14 Sep 2020, 00:44
What is the First Rule...
Mentions: Selim Faust, Jack Burnett, and Dan Palmer
Interacting with: @Opeila Winters and Victor Moore
Pushing the trap door open was at least worth a shot. She joined Dan directly underneath it, bracing to push as hard as she possibly could. Maybe her Beater training would pay off. Maybe this would work. Besides, Victor had said something about 'it is coming'. She had no idea what the 'it' was, but he sounded scared. That meant it was probably bad, which at this point was nothing new. They were going to need a way out of this place.
"Okay. Three, two, one..." She counted them down, and on one she pushed up with as much force as she could muster. Maybe it was her determination to succeed, or perhaps the advantage the two of them had against one person, but the trap door was forced open. She peeked up into the tent, assessing the situation. Why had 'Fangs' been holding the trapdoor closed? And was Opeila okay? Those were some nasty scratches...
And then she saw it. The shadow. Her eyes widened; shadows, she'd learned, especially moving ones, were bad news. This one was shaped like a human, so not the spiders they'd dealt with before. But that didn't mean it couldn't hurt them. She wasn't sure if it was the same sort of creature and if it could curse them, but she was hardly going to wait around to find out. Besides, the scratch marks on the floor were proof it could do corporeal damage.
"Opeila, behind you," she warned. Bridget couldn't tell if the younger girl was already aware of the shadow's presence, but if she wasn't already, she needed to be. It occurred to her that this was probably why the boy hadn't been letting them in, and while the thought to close the trapdoor again, to cut the rest of them off from the shadow briefly crossed her mind, she ultimately decided against it. She wasn't leaving two younger students up here to fend for themselves.
"Victor, what is that thing?" Maybe he knew, maybe he didn't. At this point she wanted any information she could get, or perhaps any assurance that this wasn't the sort of shadow creature that could curse them. Either way, she climbed up through the trapdoor, reaching for her wand. Her memories from the night of the spider attack were a jumbled mess after she'd been bitten, all pain and screaming and tears, but she did recall one thing. A cry of Lumos right before the spiders disappeared. If she was right, and this shadow was at least similar to the shadow spiders, then maybe light would help.
But there was a problem. Victor had said magic wouldn't work 'down there', but she had no way of knowing if spells not working extended to up here as well. She needed a way to know for sure, a spell that would be harmless or nearly so if it failed. How about... the Umbrella Spell? That couldn't go horribly wrong, could it? "Pluvia Velo," she incanted, pointing her wand up.
If the spell works...
A see-through umbrella sprouted from the tip of her wand, meaning magic worked. She tipped her wand down to cancel out the spell's effect, before pointing it at the shadow. Hopefully this worked. Because if it didn't... well, it was probably best to do what she could now and deal with the result of things going wrong once they went wrong.
"Lumos!"
If the spell fails...
Nothing happened. Well, this was bad. Without magic at her disposal, she was pretty much defenseless. Should she try to throw something at the shadow? No, that sounded like a bad idea. A last resort, maybe, but first she needed to see if there was a way to even the playing field. There had to be something keeping them from doing magic, right? So all she had to do was find it and figure out a way to destroy it.
~ Actions ~
1. Climb up through the trapdoor
2. Cast the Umbrella Spell (Pluvia Velo) to see if spells can be cast in the tent
3. If Action #2 works, cast Lumos at the shadow
If Action #2 fails, observation check for what's preventing them from casting spells
Not sure what ones we're using anymore...
2nd Year Stats (3rd Year changes colored):
5 (6) Stamina | 9 Evasion | 3 (7) Strength | 9 Wisdom | 7 Arcane Power | 8 Accuracy
Race/Abilities:
Full Human | Sixth Sense | Evasive Maneuvers | Prodigal DADA Learner
Last edited by Bridget Collins on 20 Sep 2020, 21:20, edited 1 time in total.
Phylicia Stanwood (iNPC) • Aislin Darragh (2nd gen) • Alejandros Espinosa (2nd gen iNPC)
19 Sep 2020, 02:15
What is the First Rule...
The door gave way, and Dan quickly ran up inside.
He did of course notice that Jack had brought Victor along... That was not in the plan at all, but getting him away from Vlad was probably a smart idea. Vlad brought nothing but misery to everyone around him, and Victor had been put through enough.
Dan made a mental note to throttle Vlad later. Then thought better of it, as he would likely be overpowered, and decided he would need to think of something smarter. And then decided he will think on it later, as this was not the time.
Upon entering the room, Dan was confused. Weirdly, there seemed to be the aroma of tea everywhere. Was Selim having a damn TEA PARTY on the trap door?
This upset the little Irish boy. He was having a tea party NOW? When the whole of Slytherin was in crisis again?
And if there was a tea party going on, why hadn't HE been invited?! The Irish loved their tea as much as they loved their whiskey and Guinness. Not inviting an Irishman to a tea party was absolutely unacceptable. Selim deserved the whalloping of a lifetime for this transgression.
In his haste to escape, and his irritation of not being invited to Selim's tea party, Dan completely forgot that Victor said magic wouldn't work, and whipped his wand out. With his Seeker trained eyes, he detected motion in the dim darkness, and upon looking, saw some weird shadow moving about. Mistaking it for Selim, he pointed his wand in front of him.
"Lumos."
Dan was going to illuminate that little rat, and show him what happens when you exclude Irish boys from tea events.
He did of course notice that Jack had brought Victor along... That was not in the plan at all, but getting him away from Vlad was probably a smart idea. Vlad brought nothing but misery to everyone around him, and Victor had been put through enough.
Dan made a mental note to throttle Vlad later. Then thought better of it, as he would likely be overpowered, and decided he would need to think of something smarter. And then decided he will think on it later, as this was not the time.
Upon entering the room, Dan was confused. Weirdly, there seemed to be the aroma of tea everywhere. Was Selim having a damn TEA PARTY on the trap door?
This upset the little Irish boy. He was having a tea party NOW? When the whole of Slytherin was in crisis again?
And if there was a tea party going on, why hadn't HE been invited?! The Irish loved their tea as much as they loved their whiskey and Guinness. Not inviting an Irishman to a tea party was absolutely unacceptable. Selim deserved the whalloping of a lifetime for this transgression.
In his haste to escape, and his irritation of not being invited to Selim's tea party, Dan completely forgot that Victor said magic wouldn't work, and whipped his wand out. With his Seeker trained eyes, he detected motion in the dim darkness, and upon looking, saw some weird shadow moving about. Mistaking it for Selim, he pointed his wand in front of him.
"Lumos."
Dan was going to illuminate that little rat, and show him what happens when you exclude Irish boys from tea events.
Actions:
Planning on what to do to Vlad. (free)
Wondering what Victor is doing here. (free)
Being hurt at not being invited to the Mad Tea Party. (free)
Casting Lumos, aimed at the shadow.
19 Sep 2020, 11:32
What is the First Rule...
Opeila was terrified. She lifted a shaking hand up to her face, to the burning pain coming from the scratch. When she looked at it again, her fingers were covered in blood. Opeila swallowed and wiped the blood off on the ground. She was back up. Out of the ring, away from... that madness, that didn't seem to be a thing only Victor was capable off.
Safety. Was she safe? There was Selim, trying to keep the trapdoor shut. Why? Why was he trying to keep anyone down there? "Selim...?" Her voice was shaking, the word barely more than a wisper. Except... If they were safer down there than up here...
Goosebumps spread over her body, when that thought appeared in her head, just in the moment, Bridget and Dan pushed the trapdoor open.
Opeila's eyes met Bridget's, which widened. Her scream made Opeila freeze, something seemed to tighten around her heard. "Opeila, behind you!"
With a terrified gasp Opeila jerked around. The darkness slashed at her, causing her to stumble backwards, trip over her own feet, and land on her back. Maybe it was her own clumsiness that just saved her, the darkness missed her. The floor curled into three ribbons where the darkness scratched it. The floor she had only stood on a moment before. That could have been her...
Her right hand reached for her wand. She raised it, pointed it at the darkness and she shouted the first spell she could think of. The one she had used against the spiders as well.
"Periculum!"
Safety. Was she safe? There was Selim, trying to keep the trapdoor shut. Why? Why was he trying to keep anyone down there? "Selim...?" Her voice was shaking, the word barely more than a wisper. Except... If they were safer down there than up here...
Goosebumps spread over her body, when that thought appeared in her head, just in the moment, Bridget and Dan pushed the trapdoor open.
Opeila's eyes met Bridget's, which widened. Her scream made Opeila freeze, something seemed to tighten around her heard. "Opeila, behind you!"
With a terrified gasp Opeila jerked around. The darkness slashed at her, causing her to stumble backwards, trip over her own feet, and land on her back. Maybe it was her own clumsiness that just saved her, the darkness missed her. The floor curled into three ribbons where the darkness scratched it. The floor she had only stood on a moment before. That could have been her...
Her right hand reached for her wand. She raised it, pointed it at the darkness and she shouted the first spell she could think of. The one she had used against the spiders as well.
"Periculum!"
Actions: Falling over, casting Periculum at the darkness.Talent: Seer
Ability: Binding Mark
Stats: Stamina 5 (6)|Evasion 4 (6)|Strength 4|Wisdom 7|Arcane Power 5|Accuracy 5 (7)
19 Sep 2020, 22:51
What is the First Rule...
@Bridget Collins and @Dan Palmer breeched the upper level. @Selim Faust was blocking their egress from the basement, not out of cruelty but rather necessity. There was a nice, quiet meeting between the snake and the raven involving tea. Not that they were physically present in the same place. He was making progress, or at least it would be nice to think.
There was a monster, a monster that only Selim would know but the others would see. Everything that a child would fear, featureless and dark. The unknown. Taller, with long spindly arms that had claws and reach. Bigger, stronger, and more dangerous. A nightmare to a child that has lived an actual nightmare. Fear of not what can be specifically defined. What can be given a narrow definition, be given weaknesses and failings was for the illogical. Nightmares' are for the things we cannot define, have no hope of defeating -- a different league of power.
"Opeila, behind you."
A warning. Opeila would see it, dark elongated claws and a great yet terrible featureless figure.
"Victor, what is that thing?"
Victor was still in the basement being carried by Jack. "What's what?" He looked up at the portal and then back to the arena. "I dunno," he announced as he attempted to slide over Jack's shoulder. "Stay down here, let the game finish. Always play the game." Strange word choices, but they would hopefully catch on. It was hard for the boy to explain. Harder for him to muster the courage to even try.
Bridget's feet would plant themselves firmly on the floor. she would try something oincredibly useless while her housemate was being assailed by Selim's monster. "Pluvia Velo," she incanted.
Did magic work? Did it fail? What really happened? The test was ultimately inconclusive, that is perhaps what would have happened (it was) in the basement had they tried something similar. Not everyone would prove to be so cautious. What could Opeila do besides run. try to outrun the nightmarish darkness? She could fight back. She could try to survive, either way she would die. Blood streaked the floorboards of the tent as she scrambled away from the terrible creature as it rose its claws once more.
There was more than just Opeila. They were coming, like a trickling stream of destruction and malice.
"God dammit," Victor would exhale. A half laugh, his features hard to discern but they were filled with suffering and pain. "I just got released..." A mouth-full of blood would reach his lips and spill out over the side, the same tar-like color. "I guess, someone else will be the victor after all." Ill-timed humor or a serious statement? Hard to say, the boy was ice cold in Jack's arms. He would fall limp.
Danger still abounded. The darkness still stood over the girls, it had made short work of Victor. How much longer would they last? They had to fight!
"Periculum!"
@Opeila Winters shouted with her wand drawn.
"Lumos"
Dan spoke a word of power as he emerged after Bridget emerged from the basement ahead of him.
There was a monster, a monster that only Selim would know but the others would see. Everything that a child would fear, featureless and dark. The unknown. Taller, with long spindly arms that had claws and reach. Bigger, stronger, and more dangerous. A nightmare to a child that has lived an actual nightmare. Fear of not what can be specifically defined. What can be given a narrow definition, be given weaknesses and failings was for the illogical. Nightmares' are for the things we cannot define, have no hope of defeating -- a different league of power.
"Opeila, behind you."
A warning. Opeila would see it, dark elongated claws and a great yet terrible featureless figure.
"Victor, what is that thing?"
Victor was still in the basement being carried by Jack. "What's what?" He looked up at the portal and then back to the arena. "I dunno," he announced as he attempted to slide over Jack's shoulder. "Stay down here, let the game finish. Always play the game." Strange word choices, but they would hopefully catch on. It was hard for the boy to explain. Harder for him to muster the courage to even try.
Victor could not leave, not as long as there were matches. There were rules that he had to abide, otherwise they would suffer disaster. But Victor was too weak to break away, he would heave himself feebly over Burnett's shoulder and try to slither off. The few feet descent would only leave him with a few broken bones. Better than the alternative he reasoned. Nobody needed to die.Victor sliding to freedom.
Evasion (Victor) 9
Accuracy (Jack) 10
Bridget's feet would plant themselves firmly on the floor. she would try something oincredibly useless while her housemate was being assailed by Selim's monster. "Pluvia Velo," she incanted.
Things just did not work out for her as the clever little girl tried to test the possibilities. Could she cast a spell outside of the basement? Did the nullification extend past the stone walls? Something would happen, just not what she wanted or expected. A little zap from the tip of her wand, like a snake made of pure electricity a jolt would be felt by...Bridget cast Pluvia Velo.
Wisdom Roll: 1
Poor Jack would be struck by what felt like an electrical current. His body would suddenly tense, every muscle including many he knew nothing of would tense in pain. His hands would involuntarily grip poor, frail Victor even tighter causing the teen to yelp to pain. "What's happening up there! Stop going this way, it is bad!" He insisted as he tried to push at Jack's shoulder's as if he was steering the stubborn youth in the 'correct' direction.Random target: 1 - Opeila, 2 - Jack, 3 - Victor, 4 - Dan, 5 - Bridget, 6 - Selim
Roll: 2
Damage: 25 * 7 = 175
360 - 175 = 185 health remains
Did magic work? Did it fail? What really happened? The test was ultimately inconclusive, that is perhaps what would have happened (it was) in the basement had they tried something similar. Not everyone would prove to be so cautious. What could Opeila do besides run. try to outrun the nightmarish darkness? She could fight back. She could try to survive, either way she would die. Blood streaked the floorboards of the tent as she scrambled away from the terrible creature as it rose its claws once more.
There was more than just Opeila. They were coming, like a trickling stream of destruction and malice.
The darkness would reach down into the hole. Into the basement where spells could not be cast, but certainly could be maintained (as evidenced by Dmitri's conjured spider). A single finger, more like a longblade than a digit would poke in a downward motion. Would cut cleanly through Victor. The darkness would enter his stomach and come out through the other side. Cradled still in Jack's arms, he would feel it, the boy who weighed absolutely nothing. A knife so sharp he could hardly feel any pressure. The look of surprise, rather than pain on Victor's face, it was too fast for the pain to even register. He would not feel it until the darkness had withdrawn. He would start to bleed out in Jack's arms, Victor's hands covering the wound, an inky blackness would escape from between his fingers.Shadow - Random target: 1 - Opeila, 2 - Jack, 3 - Victor, 4 - Dan, 5 - Bridget, 6 - Selim
Roll: 3
"God dammit," Victor would exhale. A half laugh, his features hard to discern but they were filled with suffering and pain. "I just got released..." A mouth-full of blood would reach his lips and spill out over the side, the same tar-like color. "I guess, someone else will be the victor after all." Ill-timed humor or a serious statement? Hard to say, the boy was ice cold in Jack's arms. He would fall limp.
Danger still abounded. The darkness still stood over the girls, it had made short work of Victor. How much longer would they last? They had to fight!
"Periculum!"
@Opeila Winters shouted with her wand drawn.
No sparks would shower the darkness as the girl fell backwards onto the floor. The lumbering darkness would tower over the little girl. The intruder. The breaker of Selim's solace and peace. It was dangerous, this little girl and her magical stick. It did not belong.Opeila casts Periculum.
Wisdom DC 12
Roll: 3
"Lumos"
Dan spoke a word of power as he emerged after Bridget emerged from the basement ahead of him.
A blinding white light would erupt from his wand, it was more powerful, glorious and bright than anything these students had ever seen besides perhaps Dan's snow white chest bared on a sunny day. The blinding refraction the the sun's light eye-searing, much like the tip of Dan's wand. The shadowy figure, a manifestation made tangible of a boy's paranoia and fear in this terrible place, was gone in the blink of an eye.Dan cast Lumos.
Wisdom DC 12
Roll: 20 Critical success
21 Sep 2020, 02:08
What is the First Rule...
"Most may fear the darkness around them, but I fear the darkness within myself."
▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ ||~♟~|| ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁
Despite his efforts, his foolish classmates burst through the trap door. The force of it opening knocking him off his chair, causing him to land painfully on his tailbone. As quickly as it came, those few moments of internal calm were disturbed.
He was snapped out of the haze, adrenaline bursting through it with all the effort of breaking through paper.
He heard the yelling of his idiotic peers, but he was focused on only one thing.
That shadow.
His eyes were locked onto it, and, as if in a spell, it seemed to draw him in. He could... see things in its dark depths, feel things in it, things that echoed back at him, a distorted reflection of his dark truth. Pain, throbbing, seemed to rise in his chest, bashing against the confines of his ribs, like a terrible beast trying to break through a cage. Perhaps it was real pain, or a trick of the mind, but either or, he couldn't react to it.
He pushed himself across the floor, pressing up against the side of the tent as best as he could. His eyes were still locked on that shadow, amber orbs wide, frozen, as he watched it attack the other children.
He didn't pay attention to anything else but the shadow.
Something in his mind was triggered by the dark being, and he could swear he saw dozens of eyes staring back at him from the reflection of his nightmares, embedded its spindly arms, like boils, all of them, just... staring at him.
He felt his chest heave, his breathing became short, quick, shallow, casing that unknown pain to most certainly become real. Terror reared up inside him, as Selim gazed at the walking abyss, as that abyss gazed back at him.
White spots danced across his vision as the panic attack came full force, uncontrolled, like a wild beast. He wanted to move, but he couldn't, not even when Jack was struck by a spell not meant for him, not when the monstrous clone of himself attacked Opeilia.
He hadn't moved in time to close the trap door, no, because he had been trapped by the thing across from him, by the madness that had manifested.
The darkness was engulfing his senses, was it real? A side effect of his uncontrolled breathing? Was it fake, just another hallucination brought on by primal fear? it didn't matter, that never-ending insanity was breaking through the cage he had made for it. The voices, they screamed at him, some to run away from that distorted reflection of himself, some to run towards it, embrace it--
He did neither, paralyzed by the sudden cacophony of noises, a majority of them that only he could hear.
He didn't blink as those eyes stared at him, twitching as if individual beings, parasites that resided on the shadow. He couldn't tell if this had all just become a dream as his vision seemed to warp.
His head was pounding, it wouldn't stop, was he floating? It felt like it.
How do you breathe again?
The brief fight seemed to stretch endlessly for Selim, as if it were going to just be endless torment from here on out, alone, with the manifestation of his greatest fear.
The fear of himself.
That twisted thing, the embodiment of his mind, of his fraying sanity, it stabbed someone, the Scarecrow? Was he dead? Had Selim killed him?
That shadow was him, a darker version, but definitely him. Its lanky arms reminded him of the hallucinations that liked to follow him sometimes. So Selim had stabbed Victor, maybe Vlad would be happy about that.
His tea partner had just killed his so-called 'friend'.
Ironic.
Another life snuffed out by his own, warped, stained hands.
'Was he alive? Was he alive? What had he done?'
Then, a flash of light, the spell was gone, the insanity snuffed out, his peers saved.
But that darkness wasn't gone, it still lived on, inside Selim, his festering nightmare that never wanted to let him go.
'No, no, no, it wasn't a bad thing, it wasn't bad, it protected him, it kept him alive-'
He curled into himself, trembling, the voices had been re-awoken, echoing in his skull like pestering wraiths. Why had his peers done this? He had been calm for once, he had been relaxed, and they ended it.
He wanted to go back, to go back to sipping that tea that quieted his mind, go back to talking civilly to someone without fear of them attacking him.
But he could never go back.
The dream had ended.
He was back in his living nightmare.
▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ ||~♟~|| ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁
Reducio
Mentions: @Jack Burnett
Mentions: @Jack Burnett
Stats & Abilities:Reducio
____ ____ ____
1st Year
/35
Stamina: 4
Evasion: 9
Strength: 3
Wisdom: 7
ArcPower: 3
Accuracy: 9
____ ____ ____
2nd Year
/40
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 10
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 7
ArcPower: 3
Accuracy: 10
____ ____ ____
Ability: Martial Artist, Evasive Maneuvers (2nd year)
"False Face must Hide what the Heart Doth Know." -Macbeth
S.F
21 Sep 2020, 08:03
What is the First Rule...
Was it the panic that made her spell fail? Her shaking hand? Was there a spell on the tent that made her unable to do magic inside of it? Was it that she had just seen Victor die? When she saw the darkness stab Victor, she froze in terror. And she knew that she would be next.
The shadow towered over her. Dangerous.
Opeila's breath left her mouth in high, terrified gasps, her wand was still pointed at the shadow. But her head was empty, as if she had forgotten every spell she learned.
The little girl was so scared, she could hardly even breathe. Fear seemed to close around her heart like a cold hand. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to die...
Dan's Lumos illuminated the tent, Opeila instinctively shielded her eyes with her hands, pressed them shut....
When she turned her head again, the shadow was gone. The darkness, that she had been sure off that it would kill her in the next second, had just... disappeared.
She turned to face her housemates, the green eyes widened, her face pale. "T...Thank you...", she wanted to tell Dan, but she could barely manage more than a whisper.
She lifted her hands a little to look at them. Trembling, she was only just able to not drop her wand.
The twelve year old had never been to a first aid course, but her father had once pulled her aside and told her some basics. For a second what he told her about people going into shock crossed her mind. Was that what was happening to her right now? She felt quite calm, but her trembling hands spoke an entirely different language.
Her gaze found Selim, next to the tent wall, curled up, trembling. She had never seen her seemingly careless housemate like that.
But then, how silly was it to think that he didn't have shadows? He, who seemed to carry so many of those inside?
She crawled over to her housemate. "Selim... It is gone. It is over. We are..." She couldn't end that sentence. Were they save? Opeila didn't know. "...okay.", she said instead. But that was a lie as well. Nothing was okay. A boy just died. Victor. In Jack's arms.
"Selim, you are okay.", she repeated. Her voice was still not quite steady, but did it matter? She carefully placed one hand on his shoulder. "We are all still here." A lie. Victor was gone. He was not coming back... "You are not alone, you hear me?" Did he hear her? A sob was stuck in her throat. Victor was gone, and he would not come back.
She turned her head to Jack, to Victor's dead body. Panic, she felt the panic grow deep inside her, threatening to break out.
The shadow towered over her. Dangerous.
Opeila's breath left her mouth in high, terrified gasps, her wand was still pointed at the shadow. But her head was empty, as if she had forgotten every spell she learned.
The little girl was so scared, she could hardly even breathe. Fear seemed to close around her heart like a cold hand. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to die...
Dan's Lumos illuminated the tent, Opeila instinctively shielded her eyes with her hands, pressed them shut....
When she turned her head again, the shadow was gone. The darkness, that she had been sure off that it would kill her in the next second, had just... disappeared.
She turned to face her housemates, the green eyes widened, her face pale. "T...Thank you...", she wanted to tell Dan, but she could barely manage more than a whisper.
She lifted her hands a little to look at them. Trembling, she was only just able to not drop her wand.
The twelve year old had never been to a first aid course, but her father had once pulled her aside and told her some basics. For a second what he told her about people going into shock crossed her mind. Was that what was happening to her right now? She felt quite calm, but her trembling hands spoke an entirely different language.
Her gaze found Selim, next to the tent wall, curled up, trembling. She had never seen her seemingly careless housemate like that.
But then, how silly was it to think that he didn't have shadows? He, who seemed to carry so many of those inside?
She crawled over to her housemate. "Selim... It is gone. It is over. We are..." She couldn't end that sentence. Were they save? Opeila didn't know. "...okay.", she said instead. But that was a lie as well. Nothing was okay. A boy just died. Victor. In Jack's arms.
"Selim, you are okay.", she repeated. Her voice was still not quite steady, but did it matter? She carefully placed one hand on his shoulder. "We are all still here." A lie. Victor was gone. He was not coming back... "You are not alone, you hear me?" Did he hear her? A sob was stuck in her throat. Victor was gone, and he would not come back.
She turned her head to Jack, to Victor's dead body. Panic, she felt the panic grow deep inside her, threatening to break out.
Mentioning @Jack Burnett @Victor Moore
Interacting with @Selim Faust @Dan Palmer
Last edited by Opeila Winters on 25 Jan 2021, 23:01, edited 1 time in total.
21 Sep 2020, 22:46
What is the First Rule...
Mentions: Selim Faust, Opeila Seilun, Dan Palmer, and Victor Moore
Interacting with: @Jack Burnett
It was just an incantation. Just a spell that was supposed to be harmless, practically useless unless you were stuck in a downpour. She'd thought it would just be a simple test of if magic worked in the tent, a binary yes or no. Either the spell worked or nothing happened. But she was wrong. Instead of a transparent umbrella, a bolt of electricity shot out of her wand. Her wand was pointed up, but the spell went down, through the trapdoor. Straight into Jack.
Perhaps she would have checked to see if he was alright, but there wasn't time. He was still standing, anyway, and they had much bigger problems. How were they supposed to fight a shadow if they didn't have magic? She doubted swinging at it would do anything, although it could certainly do some very tangible damage to them. The one boy [Selim] was curled up in the corner, seemingly frozen in shock. Opeila tried Periculum, but of course it didn't work. What had started as just a fight club, bad and painful but not deadly, had become nearly as dangerous as the spider attack.
And then it happened. The darkness did not attack Opeila again. It didn't attack her. Instead, it reached a long, bladelike arm down the trapdoor. And through Victor. She couldn't do anything but watch as the arm retreated and the black blood started pooling out, the hand he held to the wound ineffective in stopping the flow.
This was it. They were all going to die. All she could hope was everyone downstairs would be safe, that maybe they could close the trapdoor in time. But she couldn't move to even do that, couldn't take her eyes of Victor. Victor was dying.
It would be Dan Palmer who saved the day. With a cry of Lumos, the room turned blindingly white. She squeezed her eyes shut instinctively, hand raised to shield from the brilliant burst of light. So magic did work, which was somehow worse. It meant she couldn't trust her own magical abilities. It meant that she could have cast Lumos in time. The light faded and she was slow to reopen her eyes, not wanting to face reality. The shadow was gone, but Victor hung limp in Jack's arms.
This was not happening. It couldn't be happening. Who cared if Victor was in league with Vladimir and was here at the fight club? He was still a kid, a kid who'd already suffered more than he deserved to. He couldn't just be gone. Bridget didn't know what to do. She needed something, anything she could fix, but she wasn't sure such a thing existed. She could hardly think straight. She was useless.
The brunette dropped to her knees over the trapdoor, peering down at Jack. At Victor. She couldn't look away. Breathing was hard; it felt like her lungs were constricting. "Is he..." No, she couldn't finish that sentence, because somehow saying it out loud would make it real. Bridget, for once, was at a complete loss for what to do.
Action: Too shocked to do anything.
2nd Year Stats (3rd Year changes colored):
5 (6) Stamina | 9 Evasion | 3 (7) Strength | 9 Wisdom | 7 Arcane Power | 8 Accuracy
Race/Abilities:
Full Human | Sixth Sense | Evasive Maneuvers | Prodigal DADA Learner
Phylicia Stanwood (iNPC) • Aislin Darragh (2nd gen) • Alejandros Espinosa (2nd gen iNPC)
2 Oct 2020, 05:00
What is the First Rule...
When Bridget had suggested that they could 'all' try pushing the trap door open, Jack would have liked to ask her to wait. He would have preferred to hear from Selim first, but if - as he'd feared - Selim had been unable to answer for whatever reason, at least he could have asked her to wait so he could have time to put Victor down and help her and Dan with the door.
However, there was no time. It turned out the two older students didn't need his help anyway as they managed their objective just fine with their combined efforts. Bridget came out first, followed shortly after by Dan, but there was a great deal of panicked cries and Jack thought heard Bridget say Opeila's name. Opeila was up there, too...?
Taking a step forward to go through the trapdoor after his upperclassmen or at least peek through into the tent beyond, Jack soon found himself distracted and impeded by Victor's frantic words and ceaseless struggling. The Welsh boy soon found his attention split between the dark-haired young man in his arms and the hullabaloo of activity going on in the tent above them. Victor was saying something about needing to stay, asking to be allowed to go back, and that 'it' was coming, but would not describe what. After all that the other boy had refused to explain - or perhaps couldn't - Jack thought he knew better than to ask. Besides, there wasn't enough time even if he'd wanted to. Too many things were happening too fast.
From the brief glimpses he'd caught of the view above the door, the ones who had made it up top - Opeila, Bridgit, Dan, and...that was Selim, right? - were being attacked by something. Was that...a shadow? Opeila looked like she was bleeding, and though Jack wasn't sure whether that had been due to the shadow or not, he was far more concerned by the look of horror that appeared to have consumed Selim. Opeila and the others might not have seen the Japanese boy in such a state before, but Jack had. Sometimes it had caused Selim to lash out unpredictably as a result of panic attacks and other times he simply retreated into himself or into some dark, distant memory at the back of his mind. By the looks of things, it appeared to be the latter this time. And while that was good for the others, it caused Jack's chest to tighten; to want to go to his dorm mate and coax him back into his present self rather than to leave him alone with the monsters of his mind.
Speaking of monsters of the mind...was that shadow...connected to him somehow? It was the shadow that appeared to have inspired such fear in him in the first place, and while the others seemed frightened of it, Selim looked downright terrified. The noiret wasn't one to scare too easily, either; at least not from usual threats. He was much more likely to try to fight or flee. What was this, then, to paralyze him with fear and force him huddled into a corner? Could it, perhaps, have had to do with the 'thing' he said he sometimes hallucinated when sleep threatened him at night? The main abomination of his imagination that came with sleep paralysis and inspired Selim to close his eyes only when he absolutely had to?
The humanoid shadow's resemblance to the shadowy spiders from the night in the Slytherin Common Room did not go unnoticed, but the redhead was reminded of more than just them. Stories like the sentient shadow that had tried to escape Peter Pan came to mind. Then, with it, more sinister tales followed, unbidden. There was that of a boy named Link with a Shadow made from his inner nightmares. And then, of course, there were the Shadows from the story about Kingdom Hearts; creatures made from hearts consumed by darkness, and a shadow version of a character named Sora who was dubbed Shadow Sora. Was this shadowy being in the tent somehow connected to Selim in a similar manner; perhaps born from him?
Stories like that always warned against simply attacking what seemed to be 'evil' outright without first trying to understand what it was or what its existence meant. Jack recalled the movie he'd watched called Brave Story and then another called Black Swan, both of which had had protagonists who had faced shadow or dark doppelganger versions of themselves. Both had tried to stab their other self. One had succeeded, only to find out she had stabbed her own self. The other boy managed to discover in time what the protagonist from the former story had not - that their shadow self was still themselves; and that harming who they perceived was an enemy was actually harming themselves.
He wished they wouldn't have tried to fight it outright so as not to risk provoking it, especially because they didn't know exactly what it was or how it worked. Couldn't they have at least tried talking to it first? Or, perhaps, talking to Selim? It was for this reason Jack would have liked to stop everyone; to keep them from trying to harm the shadow even as it appeared to be trying to harm them. However, with his hands full both physically and metaphorically, this proved to be impossible.
He couldn't have pulled out his wand to try to stop anyone because he was still trying to keep Victor from slipping from his grasp. Light though he was, he was still longer-limbed and older than Jack who was weak enough for a boy his own age. His enigmatic words were only causing the Welsh kid to get more and more unnerved.
"Stay down here, let the game finish. Always play the game." His determination to get back down the stairs seemed stronger than any inclination to see what was above them. Jack was starting to get the impression Victor thought everything might have been fine if only he was returned to where he'd been abducted from.
"Victor, stop struggling," the redhead pleaded, doing his best to keep his grip without harming his captive any worse than he'd already been harmed. "You're going to fall and get hurt! Just wait a second!"
In that time, though, something from the tent room beyond made it through the open trap door and shot through Jack like a spear of agony. He cried out involuntarily, accidentally tightening his hold on Victor until he, too, yelped in response to the transferred pain.
"What's happening up there?! Stop going this way, it is bad!"
"...Alright...alright, I'm going," Jack answered through gritted teeth, trying to clear his head from the literal and mental shock of having been zapped. By who and what, he wasn't sure, but this was no time to find out. Maybe he could improve everyone's situation if only he -
It all happened before Jack's spasmed muscles had a chance to recover from having seized up. A tendril of shadow came down from above like divine intervention, only there was nothing divine about it. Nothing but for the notion that maybe it thought it could choose whose life to take and whose to spare.
Why it had reached down to stab Victor, of all people, was beyond Jack. But he couldn't help recalling that, at the beginning of this whole mess, he had tried to divert Selim away from what seemed like an intention to stab Victor with one of his knives. Could that have had something to do with it...? Could it have been Selim's doing? Vlad's? Or was this something entirely different? Jack didn't know. All he could do was stare, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, in horrified disbelief at the young man in his arms.
"God dammit," the green-eyed boy cursed before a half-laugh escaped him that seemed to stab Jack through the chest as Victor had been. "I just got released..."
"...What?" Jack asked dumbly. He could hardly get his tongue moving since it felt like lead; could hardly push the words out of his mouth."What do you mean, you - "
"I guess someone else will be the victor after all."
And then he went limp.
No, thought Jack. No, no, no, nononono...
He could hardly think as a blur of more events passed over him and the unmoving body in his grasp. There was a bright light following a brilliant cast of the wand-lighting spell from what sounded like Dan, but Jack didn't even glance up at it. He was still staring down at Victor's face.
A few moments later, voices came drifting through his consciousness. Opeila's was attempting to speak soft, soothing words to Selim, it seemed; words Jack was not able to tell his contractual partner himself this time. Good; he didn't think he could face the other boy just then. Perhaps whatever they'd done to the shadow had also negatively affected Selim, but at least he was alive. Opeila could tend to him. Bridget, nearer, sounded as though she was focused on the same thing Jack was.
"Is he..." she began quietly, her voice drifting off.
Jack took a shallow, hot breath. "No," he answered sharply. Then again with more force. "NO! I won't let him!"
Without looking back up at his fellow housemates, Jack turned back down the stairs, descending the steps with the practiced ease of someone who was used to going down them in a hurry; two at a time until he was almost flowing down them like water. He was careful to hold Victor aloft high enough not to risk tripping over his tangle of long limbs, his face set with determination. His features were rigid as carved stone, eyes narrowed and body tense as if that tension alone would have been enough to keep Victor's soul within his badly-treated body.
All the while, the same steady stream of thoughts spilled across his mind, wiping out and submerging any others like a flood. Nononononono... The voice in his head was starting to verge on the hysterical. He gritted his teeth to keep it from spilling out from his lips. It wasn't the truth, yet. There was no proof. He could still be alive. He had survived ridiculous odds before.
The basement might have had some magic that was tied to whatever game Victor had been talking about. If Jack could just get Victor back down to where they'd been before, maybe he would recover. Maybe.
"Victor? H-hey, Victor, we're going back down. I'll finish the game. I'll do whatever it takes," he assured his companion, willing his voice not to tremble. "J-just wake up, okay? Please?" His vision began to blur with moisture, but it didn't matter. He was almost there. "W-who's going to tell us how to play if not you...?"
Dropping to his knees beside the ring, he gently lay down his burden as if laying down his own heavy heart. He wasn't going to cry. Nothing was certain yet. Moving to hold the back of his hand just in front of Victor's nose and mouth, he tried to check for breath. Once, briefly, he glanced back up at the stairs from which he'd come from, wondering if anyone else was watching or following.
No one else understood. Not one of them there seemed to know what kind of person Victor was; what Jack owed him. They stared with the dull-eyed dumbfoundedness of people who had seen someone die, but not someone close to them. How could they? None of them knew him. Not like Jack felt he did, which wasn't even all that much. But it was still enough to make him wish he could cut himself off from all emotions for the rest of his life.
Only Dan and Opeila had an inkling of who Victor truly was by having witnessed how he'd been ready to take a beating in order to protect his friends' secrets. Dan and Opeila had noticed how the skinny kid with his then-blue eyes had pointed out Jack's peculiar behavior while they'd all been crowded in the abandoned toilets.
But none of them knew how, those many months ago, Victor had stubbornly insisted on helping the injured redhead all the way to the Hospital Wing despite Jack's protests and the older boy's own, ridiculous weakness. They didn't know how he had argued so strongly against Jack's condoning of Selim's treatment of him. Nor did they know how Victor unintentionally made the younger Slytherin cry at the mere idea of what he claimed was his inevitable death. They didn't know just how absurdly selfless Victor was, ready to sacrifice himself time and time again for the sake of his friends.
Jack had been deathly afraid of losing him to his black blood curse. Then he'd almost lost him to the magical fire tied to his blood magic. He wasn't going to lose him again - not to the stabbing shadow, Vladimir, or anyone else; not if he could help it. He wasn't going to because he didn't know if he would have been able to handle it if he did. He didn't even want to think about it.
Still on his knees before Victor's prone body, Jack threw back his head and defiantly called out in a manner very unlike his usual self. "ATHANATOS!" He bellowed loud enough to try to reach the tent room beyond the trap door if possible, not caring who else heard. Victor had told Jack prior that Vlad had been waiting upstairs for him, but who knew where he was now?
"YOUR FRIEND IS ON DEATH'S DOOR IF NOT DEAD ALREADY!" he proclaimed. "THE ONE YOU SUPPOSEDLY DID SO MUCH TO KEEP ALIVE THESE PAST THREE YEARS!"
No one else will be the victor. There is only one Victor here, he thought, mentally responding to what he remembered Victor had said earlier.
Then, slowly, he let his head fall forward again, bowing it to settle his gaze on his upperclassman. The Cursed, Jack thought he was, alongside his friends The Spider and The Eye. A few more words escaped him, though these seemed to be spoken more to himself than anyone else, quiet as they were in comparison to his previous ones.
"...Will you save him?"
Action 1: Take Victor back down the stairs to set him down near the ring where he'd been before.
Action 2: Check to see if Victor is breathing.
Action 3: Call out to Vladimir.
Health: 185/500
Stats: Sta: 5 || Eva: 7 || Str: 3 || Wis: 8 || AP: 6 || Acc: 6
Ability: Prodigal Charms Learner
Interacting with and mentioning: @Victor Moore, @Bridget Collins, @Opeila Winters, @Selim Faust, @Dan Palmer
PC: Jack Burnett | iNPC: Ginyami Midorimori
2 Oct 2020, 11:36
What is the First Rule...
It took but an instant. Dan's overwhelming power utterly destroyed the swirling shadow nightmare that had taken up residence in the room.
This, undoubtedly, called for a Jojo pose. And pose he did.
It became apparent to Dan that this was yet another shadow monster, like the spiders.
Dan smirked.
"Think I oughta be a Keyblade Master, how I beat back shadow monsters'n shite. Keyblade Master Dan. I like it."
It was at this moment that Dan noticed that, while most of them were safe from attack, Victor had not been. Somehow, despite being carried by Jack, Victor had been impaled by the monster. And Jack had suffered no injuries from it, somehow. That... made no sense to Dan, but he didn't see what had happened, so he just accepted it as fact.
While Dan was more than a little distraught by Victor's now critical condition, it was Jack who had an utter meltdown. He took Victor BACK into the basement with all the shirtless and barefooted teenage boys were being kept, along with teenage girls, and expected him to be healed. Then again, Victor DID mention that he needed to stay,so maybe it would work. But then, he heard Jack call out to Vlad. Vlad, the Deceiver. The Heretic. The right pompous little asshole who's teeth Dan desired for a necklace, and he was not particular as to how brutal the methodology of their extraction.
Dan shook the ADHD tangent from his mind. Jack was asking VLAD for help. Dan meanwhile, had another idea. He knew that, even when impaled that badly, death was not immediate. So, there was still a chance.
He raised his wand to the ceiling of the tent. And with the proper motions, he spoke,
"Diffindo!"
He then moved his wand, first horizontally, then vertically across the top, slashing a large X in the top of the tent, to expose it to the outside. Caving Vlad's head in may have to wait.
This, undoubtedly, called for a Jojo pose. And pose he did.
It became apparent to Dan that this was yet another shadow monster, like the spiders.
Dan smirked.
"Think I oughta be a Keyblade Master, how I beat back shadow monsters'n shite. Keyblade Master Dan. I like it."
It was at this moment that Dan noticed that, while most of them were safe from attack, Victor had not been. Somehow, despite being carried by Jack, Victor had been impaled by the monster. And Jack had suffered no injuries from it, somehow. That... made no sense to Dan, but he didn't see what had happened, so he just accepted it as fact.
While Dan was more than a little distraught by Victor's now critical condition, it was Jack who had an utter meltdown. He took Victor BACK into the basement with all the shirtless and barefooted teenage boys were being kept, along with teenage girls, and expected him to be healed. Then again, Victor DID mention that he needed to stay,so maybe it would work. But then, he heard Jack call out to Vlad. Vlad, the Deceiver. The Heretic. The right pompous little asshole who's teeth Dan desired for a necklace, and he was not particular as to how brutal the methodology of their extraction.
Dan shook the ADHD tangent from his mind. Jack was asking VLAD for help. Dan meanwhile, had another idea. He knew that, even when impaled that badly, death was not immediate. So, there was still a chance.
He raised his wand to the ceiling of the tent. And with the proper motions, he spoke,
"Diffindo!"
He then moved his wand, first horizontally, then vertically across the top, slashing a large X in the top of the tent, to expose it to the outside. Caving Vlad's head in may have to wait.
Actions
1: Jojo posing like an anime badass. (free action)
2: Actually genuinely worrying about Victor. (free action)
3: Still not putting a shirt on. (free action)
4: Casting Diffindo on the ceiling of the tent, to tear it wide open.
Abilities: Keen Eye. Evasive Maneuvers.
Stats: STAMINA: 8 EVASION: 9 STRENGTH: 2 WISDOM: 8 ARCANE POWER: 6 ACCURACY: 8
15 Oct 2020, 10:57
What is the First Rule...
What had Selim done? Victor lay limp, bleeding in Jack's arms. His sallow complexion
Fear was Selim's vice. Fear of others. Memories he could hardly bear. His fear was his burden. what kept him sleepless at night. what caused him to keep other's at arm's length. Left him delusional and alone. Everyone had a motive, most of all him.
What was Opeila if not an intruder. A liability. There was value in those behind her, at least in Jack Burnnett. That ridiculous young man who lack the strength to save others yet insisted on doing so, even when it was a risk to himself. They had an arrangement that was mutually beneficial, that was what they had told themselves but it was a lie. It was what made their daresay 'friendship' tolerable. Victor, the showman. The threat. He looked fragile in constitution but it was a lie. Nobody could survive being immolated from the inside. Nobody could walk with such a contorted and terrible form.
Indeed, Victor was a greater threat than Vladimir. The puppet master perhaps, but bringer of tea. Now there was Dan Plamer, the loud ignorant Irishman. Opeila, the obstinate stranger. Bridget the quiet watcher.
Dan's wand illuminated the tent. The great weapon, destroyer of the darkness. It had worked so many times. So many... many times before. Yet what they failed to consider is the fact that shadows require the light. Still, the shadow was gone, without a trace. As if it was never there.
Selim no longer had a shadow.
The living darkness was gone. Dan Palmer had saved Opeila Winer's life. A debt she would verbally acknowledge. "T...Thank you..."
The victory would go straight to Dan's head. A dramatic pose. A reference even most muggles would fail to understand. "Think I oughta be a Keyblade Master, how I beat back shadow monsters'n shite. Keyblade Master Dan. I like it." He was the only one excited, the same could not be said for the others. The traumatized and the angry, the fearful and the weak. They were not celebrating this moment because it had come at a terrible price.
Selim had recoiled. He did not lash out, not when against insurmountable odds. Not when he was truly threatened. Truly powerless. No, he curled up. Went inside himself. It was the only way to survive. He did not survive his childhood by fighting, but rather enduring. Avoiding pain, mitigating damage where he could. That involving lying. The unending farce. To pretend to be brave, to puff out his chest and to brandish a blade. To claim he could handle himself, to deter with bravado those whose egos did not match their brawn.
Opeila crawled over to her housemate. "Selim... It is gone. It is over. We are..."
Her voice trailed off. The darkness was gone, but was it truly a threat to Selim or was it his great protector? The darkness never came for him.
"...okay."
Opeila lied.
"Selim, you are okay."
Her voice was wavering. Did Selim flinch, back away? Lash out... as Opeila reached out for his shoulder. Dared to touch him in this cornered, vulnerable and fearful state. The worst time to touch an animal is when it is cornered. Yet she would thoughtlessly try anyways.
"We are all still here."
She lied again. Victor was bleeding out. He was not likely leaving this tent.
"You are not alone, you hear me?"
She lied a third time. Selim was alone. So very alone. There was nobody that he could trust. Not truly. Even if he could, even if they were worth trusting why would he want to trust them. To know the ache of their loss, of their senseless death. Good things do not happen to good people. Bad things do not happen to them either. The world was truly chaotic.
Bridget Collins just stood there. Her senses overwhelmed. The scent of blood, stomach churning. It was a smell that was new to her, not that slightly astringent scent from a bumped nose. No, this was the scent of old blood. It poured from Victor in great bubbling gulps.
The girl looked down at Jack who was holding Victor. The darkness had moved right past her. A fact she might shamefully be relieved for. Guilt and fear. Had justice been served? The fiend vanquished by his own blade. A master of the darkness. Dabbler of blood magic. Twisted monstrosity.
She did not muster a battle cry. A declaration to flee. All she could muster was a wary partial inquiry. "Is he..." Her voice trailed off. What was the diagnosis? What was his prognosis?
Dan was not going to return to the basement. To their cage. To the place where there were bare feet besides his own. No, he was going to escape. He was going to find a way out. His ego, swollen from his recent victory. He would leave the healing to the women and Jack.
"Diffindo!"
Below, in the basement filled with loud noises and thick air Jack was holding Victor. It did not feel like he was holding a person, something so cold and limp. It felt like he was carrying a bundle of clothes in his arms that were left out overnight in the cold. When people... go, their eyes do not always close. Their gaze however is absent. Like glass marbles that have lost their luster. The skin, already broken and scarred gains this sallow, ashen hue. It is nearly instantaneous this transformation from vitality to death.
Who would have thought that the boy who looked like a shambling corpse could look 'dead.' Death is distinctive, unmistakable. The face of death however is far from a universal truth, merely biology. The end of a journey.
"No," a terse reply from the snake. No, what? No he was dead. No, if was just fine? Peachy-keen in fact. "NO! I won't let him!" That was his declaration, his war cry. That he would not let him. He would not allow nature to take its course.
Jack would rush back down the stairs. The answer was not above, it was below. The basement, their prison, had just become his sanctuary. In denial, Jack would insist that the boy must live. That he must be alive. His battered body had survived worse before. That the boy was vital. That he was strong. No... not true at all. Even at his best, at least the best Jack had ever seen of the youth, he was never well. He was always frail, he had this quality that suggested he would fall apart if he was touched with too much vigor. A quality that he had on more than one occasion demonstrated. Yet despite his fragility, he was alive. Against impossible odds, he was alive.
And Jack, the troublesome fool that he was... was right on so many levels. The darkness targeted Victor because Selim had. The greatest threat. The shadow was a part of Selim, vanquished for now. These ends might have been avoided if they had not rushed, barged into the sacred space of a terrified youth and the darkness inside of him.
Now Jack had another hypothesis, that the basement might have had some magic that was tied to whatever game Victor had been talking about. That if Jack could just get Victor back down to where they'd been before, maybe he would recover.
"Victor? H-hey, Victor, we're going back down. I'll finish the game. I'll do whatever it takes." Jack promised. Then he begged. "J-just wake up, okay? Please?"
Some things were beyond even his power.
"W-who's going to tell us how to play if not you...?"
Not him, that was for sure.
Jack would drop to his knees, the strain of Victor's weight bearable. Victor was laid on the floor. The crowd, they did not seem to react. Chattering and cheering, their eyes on the arena. Was the boy truly so irrelevant, invisible seeming. No, eyes should have been on the stair. On the chaos. Not one of them glanced their way.
Jack would hold out his hand in hopes of feeling something. A breeze be it hot or cold. He would feel nothing except moisture on his inky black hands. Not moisture. Not ink, although that would have been a preferred lie. A bottle of ink had fallen over and darkened his hands. A blink of the eye and he might even see that preferable delusion. Victor was not there, just some precious papers. Just a few notes. A lie. A better reality.
But Jack had been warned. Victor was soon to die. Perhaps he was already dead, working on borrowed time. This was an eventuality that he should have been prepared for. Time was a commodity Victor had run out of a long time ago. The Black Blood Curse had nearly reached his heart. He saw the blackened vessels, how they branched like a nightmarish tree to a singular goal. The boy's life was already lived. Some stories were meant to be shorter than others, but that made them no less a worthy read.
Victor was a fool. A dangerous one that was unwilling to compromise himself for petty boons. He would rather die than hurt a friend. With terrible potential, he would send a girl useless but pretty flowers.
"ATHANATOS!"
The name of the Ravenclaw came out like a roar. The boy who was synonymous with the boogie man in these parts, rather than a peer or even a scholar. No, he was the fiend. The monster of this tale. At least that was what Jack believed.
"YOUR FRIEND IS ON DEATH'S DOOR IF NOT DEAD ALREADY!"
The crowd flickered. Their cheers were nothing but white noise but now there was no sound. An uncanny stillness. A harsh sense of sterility. The crowd was still their, their mouths moved but there were no words. No sound.
The jeering crowd was but a lie. A convenience for the sake of ambiance.
"THE ONE YOU SUPPOSEDLY DID SO MUCH TO KEEP ALIVE THESE PAST THREE YEARS!"
Cursed, the Spider and the Eye.
"...Will you save him?"
Fear was Selim's vice. Fear of others. Memories he could hardly bear. His fear was his burden. what kept him sleepless at night. what caused him to keep other's at arm's length. Left him delusional and alone. Everyone had a motive, most of all him.
What was Opeila if not an intruder. A liability. There was value in those behind her, at least in Jack Burnnett. That ridiculous young man who lack the strength to save others yet insisted on doing so, even when it was a risk to himself. They had an arrangement that was mutually beneficial, that was what they had told themselves but it was a lie. It was what made their daresay 'friendship' tolerable. Victor, the showman. The threat. He looked fragile in constitution but it was a lie. Nobody could survive being immolated from the inside. Nobody could walk with such a contorted and terrible form.
Indeed, Victor was a greater threat than Vladimir. The puppet master perhaps, but bringer of tea. Now there was Dan Plamer, the loud ignorant Irishman. Opeila, the obstinate stranger. Bridget the quiet watcher.
Dan's wand illuminated the tent. The great weapon, destroyer of the darkness. It had worked so many times. So many... many times before. Yet what they failed to consider is the fact that shadows require the light. Still, the shadow was gone, without a trace. As if it was never there.
Selim no longer had a shadow.
The living darkness was gone. Dan Palmer had saved Opeila Winer's life. A debt she would verbally acknowledge. "T...Thank you..."
The victory would go straight to Dan's head. A dramatic pose. A reference even most muggles would fail to understand. "Think I oughta be a Keyblade Master, how I beat back shadow monsters'n shite. Keyblade Master Dan. I like it." He was the only one excited, the same could not be said for the others. The traumatized and the angry, the fearful and the weak. They were not celebrating this moment because it had come at a terrible price.
Selim had recoiled. He did not lash out, not when against insurmountable odds. Not when he was truly threatened. Truly powerless. No, he curled up. Went inside himself. It was the only way to survive. He did not survive his childhood by fighting, but rather enduring. Avoiding pain, mitigating damage where he could. That involving lying. The unending farce. To pretend to be brave, to puff out his chest and to brandish a blade. To claim he could handle himself, to deter with bravado those whose egos did not match their brawn.
Opeila crawled over to her housemate. "Selim... It is gone. It is over. We are..."
Her voice trailed off. The darkness was gone, but was it truly a threat to Selim or was it his great protector? The darkness never came for him.
"...okay."
Opeila lied.
"Selim, you are okay."
Her voice was wavering. Did Selim flinch, back away? Lash out... as Opeila reached out for his shoulder. Dared to touch him in this cornered, vulnerable and fearful state. The worst time to touch an animal is when it is cornered. Yet she would thoughtlessly try anyways.
"We are all still here."
She lied again. Victor was bleeding out. He was not likely leaving this tent.
"You are not alone, you hear me?"
She lied a third time. Selim was alone. So very alone. There was nobody that he could trust. Not truly. Even if he could, even if they were worth trusting why would he want to trust them. To know the ache of their loss, of their senseless death. Good things do not happen to good people. Bad things do not happen to them either. The world was truly chaotic.
Bridget Collins just stood there. Her senses overwhelmed. The scent of blood, stomach churning. It was a smell that was new to her, not that slightly astringent scent from a bumped nose. No, this was the scent of old blood. It poured from Victor in great bubbling gulps.
The girl looked down at Jack who was holding Victor. The darkness had moved right past her. A fact she might shamefully be relieved for. Guilt and fear. Had justice been served? The fiend vanquished by his own blade. A master of the darkness. Dabbler of blood magic. Twisted monstrosity.
She did not muster a battle cry. A declaration to flee. All she could muster was a wary partial inquiry. "Is he..." Her voice trailed off. What was the diagnosis? What was his prognosis?
Dan was not going to return to the basement. To their cage. To the place where there were bare feet besides his own. No, he was going to escape. He was going to find a way out. His ego, swollen from his recent victory. He would leave the healing to the women and Jack.
"Diffindo!"
Dan would cry. His wand would slash vertically once. Then twice. A great X over his head. The canvas would flap in the presence of a violent gale. He would see the sky on the other side, the heavens were dark and the celestial spaces were filled with stars. So many stars. Would would have thought in London they would see so many...Dan casts Diffindo.
Roll: 16
Below, in the basement filled with loud noises and thick air Jack was holding Victor. It did not feel like he was holding a person, something so cold and limp. It felt like he was carrying a bundle of clothes in his arms that were left out overnight in the cold. When people... go, their eyes do not always close. Their gaze however is absent. Like glass marbles that have lost their luster. The skin, already broken and scarred gains this sallow, ashen hue. It is nearly instantaneous this transformation from vitality to death.
Who would have thought that the boy who looked like a shambling corpse could look 'dead.' Death is distinctive, unmistakable. The face of death however is far from a universal truth, merely biology. The end of a journey.
"No," a terse reply from the snake. No, what? No he was dead. No, if was just fine? Peachy-keen in fact. "NO! I won't let him!" That was his declaration, his war cry. That he would not let him. He would not allow nature to take its course.
Jack would rush back down the stairs. The answer was not above, it was below. The basement, their prison, had just become his sanctuary. In denial, Jack would insist that the boy must live. That he must be alive. His battered body had survived worse before. That the boy was vital. That he was strong. No... not true at all. Even at his best, at least the best Jack had ever seen of the youth, he was never well. He was always frail, he had this quality that suggested he would fall apart if he was touched with too much vigor. A quality that he had on more than one occasion demonstrated. Yet despite his fragility, he was alive. Against impossible odds, he was alive.
And Jack, the troublesome fool that he was... was right on so many levels. The darkness targeted Victor because Selim had. The greatest threat. The shadow was a part of Selim, vanquished for now. These ends might have been avoided if they had not rushed, barged into the sacred space of a terrified youth and the darkness inside of him.
Now Jack had another hypothesis, that the basement might have had some magic that was tied to whatever game Victor had been talking about. That if Jack could just get Victor back down to where they'd been before, maybe he would recover.
"Victor? H-hey, Victor, we're going back down. I'll finish the game. I'll do whatever it takes." Jack promised. Then he begged. "J-just wake up, okay? Please?"
Some things were beyond even his power.
"W-who's going to tell us how to play if not you...?"
Not him, that was for sure.
Jack would drop to his knees, the strain of Victor's weight bearable. Victor was laid on the floor. The crowd, they did not seem to react. Chattering and cheering, their eyes on the arena. Was the boy truly so irrelevant, invisible seeming. No, eyes should have been on the stair. On the chaos. Not one of them glanced their way.
Jack would hold out his hand in hopes of feeling something. A breeze be it hot or cold. He would feel nothing except moisture on his inky black hands. Not moisture. Not ink, although that would have been a preferred lie. A bottle of ink had fallen over and darkened his hands. A blink of the eye and he might even see that preferable delusion. Victor was not there, just some precious papers. Just a few notes. A lie. A better reality.
But Jack had been warned. Victor was soon to die. Perhaps he was already dead, working on borrowed time. This was an eventuality that he should have been prepared for. Time was a commodity Victor had run out of a long time ago. The Black Blood Curse had nearly reached his heart. He saw the blackened vessels, how they branched like a nightmarish tree to a singular goal. The boy's life was already lived. Some stories were meant to be shorter than others, but that made them no less a worthy read.
Victor was a fool. A dangerous one that was unwilling to compromise himself for petty boons. He would rather die than hurt a friend. With terrible potential, he would send a girl useless but pretty flowers.
"ATHANATOS!"
The name of the Ravenclaw came out like a roar. The boy who was synonymous with the boogie man in these parts, rather than a peer or even a scholar. No, he was the fiend. The monster of this tale. At least that was what Jack believed.
"YOUR FRIEND IS ON DEATH'S DOOR IF NOT DEAD ALREADY!"
The crowd flickered. Their cheers were nothing but white noise but now there was no sound. An uncanny stillness. A harsh sense of sterility. The crowd was still their, their mouths moved but there were no words. No sound.
The jeering crowd was but a lie. A convenience for the sake of ambiance.
"THE ONE YOU SUPPOSEDLY DID SO MUCH TO KEEP ALIVE THESE PAST THREE YEARS!"
Cursed, the Spider and the Eye.
"...Will you save him?"
OC: This is in full view of the rest of the fight groups. Feel free to enter if you can stay active. Please do us the courtesy of remaining semi active at the very least if you choose to interface. This took place after your fight. If KO'd, you would be waking around now. If you are unaware of your status, perhaps you should actually finish posting in your fight thread.Jack ...
Dan cast Diffindo on the roof successfully.
Bridget is staring down at a dying boy.
Opeila is comforting Selim
Selim is suffering from PTSD in the very place he will develop his newest PTSD memory.