Winterlands Main Story December Winners PV Closed

Meenauh would walk out with a bang. Literally. While Xailah didn't know exactly what her friend was doing, she did have a fair idea- the Mancunian had been facing an untouched part of the train, and her wand movements definitely weren't for a repairing charm. Xailah would hear the first few parts of the incantation- bomb- and figured that it was time to dip. There was just enough time for her to react- to warn one- to move out of the way. She jumped. Schrödinger did too. Xailahs body extended, in preparation to brace itself for a landing. The witch and her kitty, would skid into an untainted patch of snow. Oof. It wasn't a very cushy landing... but it was better than getting hit by shrapnel. She was likely going to be badly bruised the next day- which was lucky in comparison to the life-threatening injuries that others had sustained. Slightly dazed, the lioness peered up. She would see her friend first- or rather the faint outline of her friend. Meenauh stood, a mere silhouette in the chaos. A judge, for those wading in the sweet waters of mayhem- for those that lay beyond the belly of the metal monster.

The Mancunian stepped from the newly-made mouth, to tend to a boy who had succumbed to the mayhem. That was something Xailah liked about her soul sister. Meenauhs ability to create chaos, and gift mercy was... admirable? Hm. The metamorph broke her gaze from Meenauh, to observe the rest of her surroundings. She heard a funny little sound, coming from nearby. Schrödinger had gotten himself stuck in the snow next to her. He mewled from beneath the cold blanket of white. Xailah grabbed him by his massive gut, and pulled. The snow reluctantly regurgitated the grey cat, after a few good tugs. The bit of glass that the girl had taken from the train cars interior, made itself aware in her hands- the jagged edges plucked at the fabric of her gloves. She would slide it up her shirtsleeve. Standing, she would observe a scene that was most horrible. Horrible was too mild of a word for it. The scene was horrifying. She almost wished she had stayed inside the car.

Everything was different once viewed from the outside. Train innards were strewn about the snow. People- children, her peers were dyeing the ground red with their blood. Someone- one of her prefects, she thought- cried for her. Cried for her to stop someone. Xailah couldn't- she couldn't stop them. It wasn't her place to. She turned away from the cry, peering off into the direction the Gryffindors should have been going- with the rest of the train. She inhaled sharply. Her throat clenched. Constricted. Gryffindor had been abandoned. Albeit unknowingly, but it was abandonment all the same. Xailah whimpered, and her pupils grew very large. Normally, in the instance of separation, the metamorph would just do a little searching. Xailah stood, brushing off any water crystals that stuck to her, and her cat. Schrödinger would be tucked securely under one arm.

There would be an unexpected arrival. How oddly convenient. The metamorph instinctively tried to slide out of sight. She maneuvered herself towards the massacred, Gryffindor car, to get a better look at its exterior. Much to her disappointment, it appeared to be beyond the repair of a simple swish and flick. Great. Meenauh would be spotted, Xailah began to move towards her, but stopped when she caught sight of a tall figure. One she did not recognize. She slunk away, waiting for the person to pass. Why are you here? The question rang in her head. Why? The metamorph peered behind, becoming witness to the strangest thing. Xailah had seen a lot of strange things in her fourteen years on this miserable planet, but nothing quite as strange as this. In front of her- and all of Gryffindor really- sat an airplane. Xailah had read about airplanes before. Fascinating things, truly. In the pictures she had seen, airplanes always had wings. Thats what they needed in order to fly. But this particular plane was completely free of wings. She needed to get a closer look at this. Wingless airplane? Something wasn't right.

One would have through that his entrance would be welcomed, lauded as an act of benevolence and mercy but @Jacob Harman did not. He somehow saw or heard a mysterious man who called himself Thaddeus Athanatos and decided that he had to be guilty of framing Harry Potter for the murder of Dolores Umbridge almost 4 years ago.

Wasn't he in the original compartment inside the train? Yes, he indeed was. It should have been impossible for him to hear a stated name from so far away,

Jacob attempts to leave compartment. [Presumed action because he mentions approaching]
Undefined if he goes up or down. 1 - up; 2 - down. 1
Leave attempt: 10 (+2)

Jacob would decide to climb up, through the broken window through which Jackson was expelled during the crash. His hands would meet the sharp edges of the window would cut into the palms of his hands. Perhaps it was Meenauh's spell that had rocked the train and caused him to lose his grip. Perhaps it was because he was not particularly strong, so as he tried to pull himself up either the lack of physical brawn or perhaps his slippery hands (due to the blood).

"What are you doing!?"

A Slytherin, @Starlee Kennedy would rebuke Meenauh, not Jacob just as Jacob fell... downward.

Agility saving throw -
Jacob Roll: 6 (+9)

Thankfully he would not fall through the broken door on the other side of the aisle. A twist of his body, his hands outstretched, he would feel the floor meet his... face. Yes, his face. Going on about a crime at the site of an accident, this was going to be the most clumsy escape from a train to date (one action per round man, you really should not have ever gotten to Thaddeus).

Not that Starlee saw Jacob's fall, the unseen voice would rebuke Meenauh all the same. "We don't want more people getting hurt!"

A necessary risk perhaps to Meenauh. @Scarlet Aden outside the train would also voice a complaint.

"There's already an exit door you know!"

Bits of hot metal had rained down on them as a result of the concussive event.

"Didn't need to hit us with shrapnel to get out!"

“why is everyone trying to kill everyone else now? Don’t we have enough murderers already?”

@Everly Charlton added in complaint. Surely the Dueling Captain was going to be getting a few pieces of a few minds after everything was finally said and done.

[From inside the train] While Jacob failed his rolls and should not be outside of the train, Jacob would escape the train critically failing in the process. Stumbling past @Galton Lansdale whom got knocked off the tail of the train as Jacob bum rushed past the boy. The Lumos-wielding boy would be knocked to the icy ground, the light of his wand still lighting the way for @Hugh Lowe not that the part-giant seemed to be moving. Merlin, was the boy dead or did he just forget to move? [Post dude.]

Jacob Harman left the train.
Galton was knocked off the train's edge. [-100 damage]

@Katrina Walker was too busy feeling sorry for herself to hear @Calanthe Choi's kind words or bother with Jacob Harman's antics. They were confusing as poor @Evelynn Despicio also struggled to understand actually what was happening. As if the actual disasters, unfortunate and terrible incidents were not enough, her life seemed to lack drama so she would make more for herself. The same way anyone does, with a vigorous, unhealthy imagination.

Katrina would call out from the train that they needed to get back inside.

“HEY, IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, WE SHOULD STAY IN ONE PLACE! COME TO THE TRAIN, OUT OF THE COLD! PLEASE, IT’S SO MUCH BETTER IF WE STAY TOGETHER!”

Not that many of them could return to the train. They were injured, with broken legs or spirits. Not that some would, they had found help outside of the train. The jet-limo offered safety, warmth and comfort and the older wizard implied a capacity to heal them. Not that the Hogwarts Express or another wizarding authority would not eventually arrive. A message had already been sent and received that there was an accident. An explosion with an unknown cause. A roll-out with unknown but potentially devastating consequences.

Evelynn would rush past Katrina, to @Piérre Marchonné's side. He was no longer buried beneath a mountain of luggage, his battered form apparent as he paid sprawled out on the floor.

"Walker."

Evelynn called out to Katrina but she would not stop and render aide.

"Is he alright? Is he breathing?"

She would not stay by, Pierre had help. Perhaps not the help he needed but help all the same. She would rather escape through the gaping, child-sized hole in the floor that Meenauh had created and emerge from the overturned underside of the train, pasing Katrina once more.

Evelynn would leave the train.

They would narrowly cross paths. Elena rushing into the train through the new central entryway created by Meenauh. The traffic in this central entryway was impressive. @Elena Jangleton was not heeding @Katrina Walker's call, rather she was demanding information.

Elena grabs Katrina's robes
Attack 15 (+10) (-1 charmer)
Evasion 11 (+8)

She would grip the poor girl's robes, as if she was giving the girl a shake down. "Have you seen an owl?! Brown, sort of small, yellow eyes?! Tell me!" Have you seen an owl that looks like an owl? Tell me now! An overwhelming demand made by the crazed girl.

Nevermind, she would push past Katrina. "FLUTTERS!"

Katrina would be knocked over, not that Elena was particularly strong. Her (1) strength was more akin to a newly born kitten wearing oversized mittens, but Katrina lacked for grace and had a severe case of masochism anyways.

Katrina would fall on her butt. (-20 health)

Elena would start to move past her, failing to recall the fact that there was but 1 action per round so the later would be a critical failure. A stumble through the smoking threshold, into the unstable car that she had to climb into. The hot metal would burn her hand. A sizzle could be immediately heard. The metal not yet fully chilled.

Elena's hand has a burn on it. (-100 health)

She would bellow Flutter's name again. Did Owls come to their name like a trained dog? Well, maybe, this was a trained owl afterall.

Her calls for Flutters would fall in deaf ears. Someone did in fact have her bird, scared and hooting loudly from an overhead compartment, Elena would likely be able to follow the sound. @Starlee Kennedy would endeavor on, not hearing the other bird owner's cries, her focus on saving her own bird before something else, something worse happened.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Starlee casts Wingardium Leviosa.
Roll: 1 Critical Failure

Her good luck could not last forever. With such a clean Leviosa, she would have likely wished she was a Perfectionist at this moment. Borvo would shoot upward, through the already mostly broken window like a rocket. The bird would let out a terrified scream. Do birds scream? Well, this one seemed to.

50% chance of hitting a player.
Roll: 58

Borvo has left the train.

Elena was too busy searching for Flutters. Starlee too busy launching Borvo out of the train. Pierre's dire condition overlooked by the two of them, but not Alan. Tiger vertically attached, those tiny meathooks dug into the teen's side, Tiger was forever traumatized.

"Rafa, can you get out through the window or are you coming down?"

There was no answer. There had been nothing from @Rafael D'Spacito since the accident. [Post dude!] Was he dead? Was it his ghost that had been playing Quidditch for the late season? Quite possibly by the looks of it. Even Jacob had evacuated the compartment eventually.

@Anastasia Beckett did not have much without Rafael. It was unlikely that he understood his value to her.

"Rafa?"

Still nothing. He was not answering. Hiding like a coward? Rendered unconscious or even dead?

Yes, @Alan Vanes one of the few fourth years would come to the Keeper's aide and answer the call for help. Their magic skill and potential leagues ahead of their peers. Late assistance was better than none at all. "Please, please, please..."Alan muttered out loud as the gravity of matters perhaps finally hit him. while he was searching for his kitten, his peers were actively dying.

"Reparifors," Alan incanted. A spell that would have aided the downed youth had these suitcases bludgeoning been magical in origin. It would not help him, the Keeper was broken by the mundane - injuries. Indeed, it always had to be Pierre who was knocked out -- he was a fragile youth that needed someone burlier than himself for protection. Someone like Alan, a human tank with a nerdish exterior.

“Fuck."Potty mouth young lady. "Reparifors, we tried that already … Kat did it. It was blue.” Calanthe explained to the upper classman.

Of course it did not work. it did not work when Katrina tried and it would be no different for Alan.

"Why the bloody hell would she try Reparifors? That's magical injuries, I don't think an acrobatic train qualifies."

Anastasia just had to snark. It was in her nature Ana, like how some demons had to keep the letter of their word, deception being their core the technicalities of lies and the spiritual genesis of lawyers; Ana too just had to be that mean girl. At least to a vast majority of her peers. Rafa and apparently Pierre were exceptions to his. She would kneel beside Pierre.

“Didn’t work. Do you have something else?” Something useful. She would not have a chance to suggest another spell, to make use of the fourth year's superior skill with her hopefully more logical, keen mind.

"The only other healing spell I know is Ferula, it bandages, so I imagine that'd do a bit of good. I'm nearly certain fourth years have learned more useful healing spells. We ought to get him somewhat stable before trying to move him."

Anastasia offered, an actual clinical opinion that betrayed her usual personality. Shame Pierre was not here to see how he had pulled the sinews of this girl's calloused heart even if it was not for romantic intentions. Friendship remains to date the best ship.

"Ferula!"

Ana casts Ferula.
Roll: 18

Not that he was bleeding, but conjured white, clean bandages just made things seem better. It at least hid the ugly and the battered.

"We need to get him out of here, we all need to get out of here."

“Out into the freezing cold? Is that the best idea?”

Yes, there. The safety of the Scottish tundra. There was an ongoing battle -- enter the train. Leave the train. None could decide. The chill was better or worse than the unstable, twisted train that they were housed within. Help was surely coming for them. the school had to know.



Outside the Train

@Evelynn Despicio would see the carnage that was her classmates. Some appeared to be in a better state than others. The worst among them Marshall who was unconscious in the snow, but Jackson would look almost as bad. His body bloodied and charred, the dramatic carpet of crimson behind him.

"Valentine! What are you doing?!"

Scolding the failing youth would not do much. The boy did not have many options, he needed help he never got from his peers until it was almost too late. @Elena Jangleton might have helped save his life, temporarily forgetting her rivalry with Everly. Not that such peace would last forever, or for even long. Jackson had nearly burned to death and he would break away from the bickering ladies, shambling like a zombie. He was still bleeding out and to date there has been no promises of salvation.

Distracted by a revelation that something was missing, Elena would shout out a name -- "FLUTTERS!" Her beloved bird. She had not seen them since the accident. She would not pursue Jackson, try to stop him. She did not even notice to whom he was heading towards.

Elena returns to the train.

"A-Alptraum! He's bleeding. Stop him! He's going to make it worse!"

Evelynn would shout out as Elena abandoned Jackson. What was Xailah supposed to do? Tackle him to the ground? Save him from himself by rendering him unconscious first?

The boy was beat up, rushing out of the train, summoned with great urgency to this site having somehow overheard the man's name or recognizing the politician's face from the papers. Jacob would make a leap in logic based on... politicians, like bankers are corrupt and therefore must be culpable for the most prolific murder of the decade. The law of convenience dictates that it must be Taddeus that performed or commissioned the frame-job of Potter.



What was the older wizard to do when confronted with such an accusation. Confess? Beg for forgiveness from a preteen? No, not at all. A charming laugh would erupt from Thaddeus' mouth. "Surely," he chuckled. "Where do you kids get your imagination?" His laughter continued, "I doubt I was ever young enough--" his voice would face off as he side stepped the youth and got an eyeful of the travesty that was this train-jacking. His mouth slightly agape, his eyes wider than they should be.

"I will have to play later, there are more important matters to manage," he announced as he made a dismissive gesture with his left hand.

There were matters of greater importance. Like the shambling youth that stumbled toward him, leaving a trail of crimson in his wake. Thaddeus would look past Jacob, rebuking him as his eyes laid on the bookish, broken youth. "What is wrong with you Harman," the finely dressed man would snap as he stepped around Harman. Games at a time like this!

His eyes would rest on Jackson, the unfortunate painfully plain youth turned monster. "Hygieia!" he would proclaim, invoking not Merlin but rather Hygieia, the Greek goddess of health. "Valentine needs help," he insisted as he removed the glove from his left hand. "Stop moving, you're about to bleed out," he cautioned as he moved forward with an ungloved hand.

That would be when he would feel it, accept it. Not death but life as the aged hand of the wizard was cut open by a silver ring he wore on his index finger.



A bloodied hand would reach out for Jackson, no words just motion. He gripped Jackson's forearm, his hand larger than one might have expected. These were not worker's hands, they were soft but badly scared across the fingertips and palm. He would feel a pull, and a push that came from within. A push and a pull. Like a beating heart, but not in cadence with his own. Too slow. Too strong. He could hear it in his ears, the pounding. No pain, just the pressure. An insurmountable force.

Then the pain would come. With the repair of his nerves, with the blackness turning to red, raw flesh. Jackson might see it for but a moment, Thaddeus' own would turn black as night. In the wake of this exchange, yes exchange Jackson's pain would fade. Having only lasted mere moments, flesh with shining pink scars replaced the char and the deep cuts would seal. He was still weak, a whisper away from unconsciousness but he bled no more.

Jackson is no longer bleeding.

The same boon could not be said for Marshall Mozor, the boy who had been run over by a train. A statement few would be able to proclaim because even fewer survived. Evelynn had rushed to the unconscious Gryffindor's side, @Marshall Mozor might die in this snow, mostly ignored by his peers. At least that would likely be what he remembered as he laid there suffering -- nobody came and those that did would too late, not that he knew the difference just the sense of abandonment and lonesome fear.

"Silmataurea!"

They were not on first-names?

"Meenauh! ...Help!"

@Meenauh Silmataurea would knew what to do. She was older, therefore she knew more. That was what age promised but in truth older did not mean wiser, it just meant more experienced, that they might have seen this before but how could meenauh have seen something like this? That they had more resources, that they had learned more and were therefore more capable.

Meenauh would per out through the smoking hole she had created. Was she surprised that she was the name that was called for when things went wrong, when things were bad -- real bad. The Dueling Captain was being summoned by an underclassman, a Prefect but a Prefect does not make them perfect. She was limited and finite, by her years and her experience, not that meenauh had much more but spells were in a way her thing. The more spells she knew, the greater advantage she would have in the arena. She was also a bit older, not terribly much more, but that year in a place like Hogwarts made for an incredible difference.

Shame she did not know many spells that would be useful in this cold. Not that the headmaster had anything to do with the aberrant choices of the Professors. Who knows, perhaps as Headmaster she would be able to get them to make a more unified curriculum whilst maintaining their autonomy in making lesson plans.

When Meenauh exited the train, she would see a mangled youth laying in the snow. He, like Pierre inside the train was not moving. @Piérre Marchonné was badly bruised, concussed most likely, but @Marshall Mozor was a different animal entirely. His conventionally handsome outward appearance was bloodied. The ground had met his face and form hard, and multiple times as he was flung from the rolling car. It looked like he might have even bounced a few times but it was more apparent that he had slid. Snow, ice and dirt mingled with his open wounds. Long abrasions from his evacuation. Lacerations and contusions would have made the boy nearly unrecognizable to those that even knew him but the worst was his leg. It was crushed when the train rolled over. His pantleg just had this terrible depression, impossibly thin for a leg to be there.

Injuries:
- Contusions to his back, shoulders and face.
- Lacerations to his hands (defensive wounds where he tried to save himself); long laceration to his left arm where his arm must have met a sharp stone.
- Crushing injury - fracture with accompanying hematoma to leg.
- Sprain to the wrist (or a bad hematoma)
- Head injury

Meenauh was not addressed by Scarlet, "Decipio, do you know anything we can do?" The Dueling Captain was looking him over, and the scene did not look good. @Scarlett Aden could help, do something. Now that her... rival? frenemy? Lord knows with kids these days, Elena had left Marshall and Jackson to die in the snow it was just the three girls now. "You need to calm down - Marshal - Marshal will be fine." she assured Evelynn. how did she know? She had no damn clue. "He's alive, right?" She did not even know if Marshall was alive.

Scarlett would direct Evelynn's attention to her wand. "Look, I can do something."

Hopefully, not that Marshall would be getting much comfort in this state.

Scarlett casts Ferula.
Roll: 12

Scarlett waved her wand and hurriedly said, "Ferula."

White bandages would cover the boy's numerous injuries, the ones Meenauh was studying. it was a kinder scene, even if poor Marshall resembled a mummy more than a young man. His injuries numerous, there was something about not seeing them that sometimes made them seem like... less.

“I don’t know any healing spells but.. um, I can try to stop the bleeding,”

A bid to feel useful. @Everly Charlton wanted to do something for him too. To help someone, she would tear at her shirt and cloak. Thin strips of colored cloth mingled with Scarlett's white conjured bandages. It was not much, but it was something.



@Opeila Winters would see the plane-limo land. It was intended to be a flashy entrance. An unforgettable moment. A victorious arrival. The name would be what caught the girl's attention -- Athanatos a name that she had made a connection with. In the papers Thaddeus was a well-known benefactor, patron of St. Mungos. He shared a name with the body of the boy wearing her coat.

Was he dead?

Nearly actually.

But when the familiar surname was announced, fear would grip the Slytherin. He knew. Vladimir knew. This man knew. Or so she would presume now with such prodigious timing.

Out of nowhere, a birdcage with a screaming bird would come crashing down on Vladimir. [Death saving throw 1 of 3 lost] Opeila was bandaging Vladimir, but there were so many injuries. He needed so many bandages. The blood came out thick, almost jelly-like. It felt queer in her hands, stained black and crimson as the red and black, yes both bloods intermingled.



@Xailah Alptraum was curious about the flying machine. The 'limo car' as he called it. She would find a large, well kept vehicle. A plane without wings. tires like the tones that would belong to a car. What she would see when she peered inside was excess. That was the best way to define it. Excess. Excess in wealth. In size.



There was a quill on a table that was writing by itself, but besides that there was nobody else that she could see in any case aboard.

@Xailah Alptraum 900/1200 [outside]
@Piérre Marchonné 0/300 (unconscious) (bandaged) [inside]

You have been stabilized through time and *cough* the attempts of your peers. You will have 1 health the start of the next round.

@Everly Charlton 250/600 [outside]
@Calanthe Choi 750/1000 [inside]
@Katrina Walker 606/900 (bandaged) (knocked on her bum) [inside]
@Griseldis Edelhardt 800/1000 [outside]
@Alan Vanes 1000/1100 [inside]
@Alec Mason 400/600 [inside] <Post dude>
@Opeila Winters 310/600 (bandaged) [outside]
@Vladimir Athanatos unconscious, displaced ulnar and radial fracture. (Bandaged) (Bird cage to the Face) [outside]
@Galton Lansdale 450/600 [-100] Maintaining Lumos. [outside] <Post dude>
@Hugh Lowe 695/1000 [outside] <Post dude>
@Scarlett Aden 500/700 [outside]
@Jacob Harman 280/600 [-200] (bleeding -20 health/round) [outside]
@Allister-Jameson MacAllister 0/600 mummified, unconscious [outside]
@Anastasia Beckett 400/500 [inside]
@Rafael D'Spacito 1000/1000 [inside]
@Evelynn Decipio 700/700 [outside]
@Jackson Valentine 75/500 (healed) [outside]
@Raine Sage 800/800 [outside]
@Starlee Kennedy 150/400 [inside]

• Flutters [inside]
• Borvo [outside]

@Cade Darkbound 450/500 [inside] <Post dude>
@Elena Jangleton 550/900 (bandaged) [-100] [outside]
@Akari Kato 500/500 [inside] <Post dude>
@Calanthe Choi 800/1000 [inside]
@Meenauh Silmataurea 80/400 (bandaged) [inside]
@Marshal Mozor 0/600 bleeding, broken/shattered ankle, unconscious. [outside]

Interacting to @Akari Kato Mentioning @Vladimir Athanatos @Katrina Walker

Suddenly the train car shook and out the corner of Cade's eye, he could see luggage rolling in a chaotic wave towards them. Quickly and almost in second nature, Cade grabbed his compartment mate out of harm's way along with another stranger. It was a close call but the luggage swept past them. Cade noticed there were a few students who didn't fare so well. Cade let go of the girls as soon as the last trunk passed them. "Are you okay?" The Ravenclaw boy asked absently. His mind was reeling. Just what on earth was going on?

"We have to get out of here." Cade bit his lip and looked around, he spotted students leaving the train and quickly went to follow. Cade wanted answers. He wanted to know desperately what exactly was happening to the Hogwarts Express, and what would happen next. Just who were those groups of people snatching and beating children? Cade wasn't sure how the next few hours would play out. He was sure they hadn't even reached Scottland yet. He wondered if any of the students were smart enough to send an owl ahead to the school. They definitely needed some sort of assistance.

Cade joined the other students outside glancing behind him to see if his compartment mate had followed. He noticed the condition of many students, most were injured, and a few unconscious. Whatever this was, it was not at a peaceful protest.

Valentine needs help.

Had he said anything else, literally anything else, it would not have invoked the sudden wave of suspicion that overcame the boy. Valentine? It was a name that only those who knew him on a personal basis would address him by, the likes of Bridget Collins, @Galton Lansdale and he supposed @Evelynn Decipio, now. In classes, the Professors called him Jackson. When read off of a list of students, Jackson came before Valentine. Those who happened to stalk him hard enough often concluded that he was a Jackson. Yet, @Thaddeus Athanatos possessed an uncanny awareness of his identity crisis. He was adamant that he had not seen this elderly man before, yet he knew something so personal to the boy that few others did, and with confidence enough that he could taste the name Valentine as if it were but an utterance, besmirching an untold legacy with the tip of his tongue. But to what end? To display his unexplainable knowledge of their identities? To reveal himself as a trusted figure because of the things he knew? Names were a powerful thing and Thaddeus would be wise to respect the weight of names, the implications that were carried when he so carelessly cast a word of address that meant so much more to this boy than he could imagine. A single word had told Valentine more than he needed to know about the man, much of it likely inaccurate and over-dramatized, but his suspicions had been roused, and his cautiousness piqued.

It was at this moment that he recalled a throwaway conversation with one @Kazuo Shimada.

Unless you know a legilimens?

A legilimens?

Kazuo had told him something that night, something which he didn't think would be relevant so soon. If Thaddeus Athanatos was truly a legilimens, then he too might have seen the revelation that passed over the boy in the instant. Unless. . . He was not able to read the minds of masses at a time? If his mind-reading capabilities were targeted, then Valentine would be able to pass unnoticed for now, but his awareness would soon come to light, and it threatened to endanger both himself and the people around him.

Jackson thinks that Thaddeus is a legilimens.

But though his mind had regained some of its sharpness, his body was still a marionette, and the strings holding it upright were slipping with each passing second. He almost collapsed onto Thaddeus when the older man reached out to him, the warmth of his aged palms alone filling him with heaviness. With relief came torpor. His head throbbed with a dozen sources of agony. Then, he felt the beat of the man's heart resonating across his form.

He had experienced this once before (and once later with the lovely Evelynn ) under a tangerine sunset when he had intruded upon the contemplation of @Raine Sage. For an infinitesimal moment, he had convinced himself that he loved her; a ridiculous notion for a silly boy. He saw that now, and he moved on from it with little rancor. However, for a moment, their hearts had truly beaten synchronously, a deeper connection having been reached beyond the physical, where both of them had arrived at a silent understanding of the magnificent scenery before them. He might have melted then, a part of his soul sinking into the nectarous drip afar. A part of his soul had left itself with Raine as well, a part he'd long forgotten to reacquire.

The soul here is used symbolically. Jackson Valentine does not condone the construction of Horcruxes. Play with the devil's toys at your own risk, children.

Yet, something about this felt different. The connection he shared with Raine, however fleeting, was built on a shared understanding. It was like a lock and a key, a harmonious relationship between two objects that created something functionally beautiful. There was nothing beautiful about what happened to him now. If Raine's aura was gentle, Thadddeus's aura was merciless. Valentine never had a chance to connect, to appreciate any sort of beauty, or to reach an understanding of any sort with his counterpart. The ripple of flesh and blood that overcame him was swift, efficient, and brutal. It forced its way through his veins, sealing his wounds with explosive spontaneity. This was no empathetic moment that one might find in the climax of a romance novel. This was magic. Whatever Thaddeus Athanatos had done to him had closed up all of his injuries. Earlier, he had gasped with life. Now, he choked on it. The pain almost brought him to his knees once again, but this time, he found the strength to stand.

Jackson is no longer bleeding.

He was visibly shaken, but even without the fierce bite of winter stabbing him back to his senses, he would have overcome the state of shock in time. His next words were addressed to his mysterious benefactor, a rhetorical statement more than a question.

"Thank you, Mister. . . Athanatos. You know that my name is Valentine?" his brows furrowed wearily, displaying the perpetual unease he felt that left him constantly on guard. "No one calls me that except my close friends. Have we met before?"

Katrina gave the outside one last solid look before turning back to go inside. A few people had made moves to return inside, but it seemed everyone was still too preoccupied. Why was it that when she actually had something smart to add, no one listened? Katrina took a deep breath and turned back to Piérre’s side. She wasn’t ready to abandon him yet. If she could only do one thing today, she was going to make sure that he was alright.

Katrina heard her name and turned, seeing Evelynn, whom Katrina recognized from her club. Taking a steadying deep breath, Katrina replied, “He’s fine. And breathing. I’ve already tried Reparifors, but the injuries weren’t magic-related. He’ll be okay,” The last part Katrina mainly said to herself. Reassuring. Everything had to work out okay. Evelynn, apparently satisfied with the knowledge, left the train. Katrina hoped she’d be okay out there, she hoped they all would.

Another person approached, one Katrina didn't have the time to recognize. She grabbed Katrina by the robes and shook her, demanding the location of ‘Flutters’. Katrina, alarmed and confused, stuttered out an answer, “I-I’m not sure. I think there’s some people rescuing pets from inside the cabins… but I wouldn’t recommend going in them, that’s how a lot of people have gotten hurt,” The crazed girl pushed Katrina away and Katrina reached out for the wall to brace herself. And missed. By a long shot. Instead, she fell on her bottom, the impact sending a jolt of pain up her back. The girl was gone before Katrina had gotten herself back on her feet.

A small crowd had gathered around Piérre’s body and Katrina returned, adding one more. Anastasia was among the crowd, annoying and rude as always. She went on about how stupid it was for Kat to try Reparifors. “It was worth a try. Thank you very much,” Katrina’s voice was dripping sarcasm and ice cold. Usually, there was a part of her that was scared or at least uncertain, but she didn’t have time for that now. “Yeah and bandages are going to be so much better,,” Katrina muttered to herself as Beckett cast Ferula on him.

“Outside it is cold,” Katrina, now exasperated, replied to Alan’s notion of bringing Piérre out. “So unless there’s some magical savior out there, being in here with the radiant heat from the explosions is much better. Hypothermia is the last thing we need,” The sarcasm previously used with Anastasia was gone, instead, persuasion filled its place. Now was one of the few moments she used her persuasion, she knew she had it, she just hardly used it.

Katrina suddenly felt a wave of stress overtake her. While she was being helpful and doing something, she was fine, but the instant there wasn’t something to do, her mind began to run. It started with the unconscious friend on the floor, then the fact that no one knew they were gone, then the worry that they cowboys might return, and then she spent a good deal of time worrying that someone might be unconscious in one of the cabins and no one would know, she cycled around this anxieties for a good deal of time before snapping back to attention.

Katrina thought she saw a flicker of something on Piérre’s face. Movement. A blink. Or maybe a stray shadow. She would peer closer. Could it be? Did something they manage to do wake him? If it was as she thought, she knew she would do anything to protect him. All of them really. No one was dying on her watch.

TLTR; Reassures Evelynn that Piérre’s alright. Is shaken by Elena demanding location of Flutters and is pushed and falls, hurting her back. Be sarcastic about Anastasia's comments. Have random stress attack interrupted by her thinking she's seeing Piérre’s awakening.

For Moderation:

Reducio

Action: Talk and minor interactions, do anything to protect the group around her and mainly Piérre (this includes jumping in front of any attack to take the hit) because I don't have much else to add this round

Abilities: Perfectionist [Crit-Fail Zone reduced by 1] | Healing Sage [+25% on all magical healing] | Charmer [-1 acc for all opponents]

Stats: Stamina 9 | Evasion 8 | Strength 3 | Wisdom 11 | Arcane Power 9 | Accuracy 5

Interacting With: @Piérre Marchonné @Calanthe Choi @Evelynn Decipio @Elena Jangleton @Anastasia Beckett

Mentioning: @Alan Vanes

Open to Interactions: Please feel free to do/say anything to make Kat feel more guilty (call out to her even though she can't help, you know, whatever really) I'm planning an even more epic breakdown later so anything to add to that is appreciated

Note: Edited because I thought Pierre was waking up this round. Misread.

"Billions of blue blistering barnacles... GALTON. Keep that light up! I'm here." With his long legs striding through the snow, Hugh's breath would have almost made him look like a second locomotive traversing the land. "I don't know which one of you buggers decided on this grand plan of blowing the train with US INSIDE, but you better pray I don't get my hands on-" Another explosion came from the train as his words hadn't fully been drawn from his breath yet. His eyes widened as he locked the train in sight. There were no more cowboys in sight, which made the situation only slightly more normal. If not for the giant blown-up wreck of a train wagon.

As the half-giant approached the wagon, he recognized the unmistaken shape of a friend. "There he is! The Candy King himself. Now would your excellency kindly explain to me what in the blazes is g-" Again, his voice was called to a stop abruptly by the interference of others. He saw his friend getting pushed off the wagon. As Galton's light dropped to the snow, the half-giant growled under his breath. "Hey! HEY! What do you think you're doing?" Hugh marched forward to reach his friend quickly. "What on earth is the matter with you?" He shouted after Harman as he met with the boy's back. The lad was locked in conversation with an older man, elderly even. The strange vehicle that had landed near them wasn't too far off. Hugh's eyes scanned the area and locked onto a bundle of people near him and Galton.

The Gryffindor's head titled slightly as he tried to make out who they were. "Galton, look inside the train and tell me if anyone needs to be moved out. I'll check on those kids out there for now. See you in a bit." The giant nodded as he turned his body around and started jogging towards a trio of students nearby. He knew one girl's face immediately and soon after recognized the boy lying on the ground. "Bunbun, let me through." He tapped his former teammate's shoulder as he tried to take a hold of Vladimir. His eyes locked with the other girl's briefly before offering her a more gentle smile. "He'll be alright. Just let me get him to safety." Hugh's arms wrapped themselves around Vlad's body. "C'mon, Vlad. Seems you gained some weight since last time we met. Now at least you won't refuse my help. Unlike last time..." A smirk would grow across his face after recalling their last encounter and seeing the boy knocked out. "Lets get him patched up. SIR! Hey, Mister! I need you to help us with this one!" The half-giant cried out as he carried Vlad's body towards the old man.

Interacting with @Opeila Winters @Hugh Lowe
Mentioning @Vladimir Athanatos

Not sure why but she kept having this strange feeling of anxiety. After watching her owl flew away she turned around to focus on helping the Ravenclaw boy. She noticed the poor Slytherin girl still in a panicking mode. Her face was so pale that it almost blends in with the snow. Griseldis placed a hand on Opeila and try to calm her down, "Opeila, he is just unconscious, not dead." Looking back at Vladimir who still laying here lifelessly, she saw that he was still bleeding despite Opeila's best effort of bandaging him. He had way too many injuries on his body, she knew it wouldn't be enough. So Griseldis decided to use her long Gryffindor scarf and wrapped it around other parts of the injury that was still bleeding. "This should do...", She said to herself with a small nod. Hopefully, that it would at least stop more of the bleeding before his body would become colder.

But then, something unusual happened. Griseldis almost couldn't believe her eyes when she saw a flying bullet train suddenly arrived from the sky, she saw these kinds of trains before in Japan and Hong Kong. It was floating in front of them and it seemed that it was about to land on the snowy ground. A strange middle-aged man with a hat came out of the car and asked them to get into his bullet train. Of course, it was good that there was finally someone here to help them but Griseldis felt that this coincidence was a bit odd. How did this man know they were here in the first place?

She felt a tight grip on her sleeves which made her turned to look at Opeila, she seemed so scared and tried to tell her about the man but couldn't form a decent sentence. "With them?", However, Griseldis was able to guess that Opeila must know this man and it looked like he wasn't a friendly person after all. And before she could ask the man, a familiar face walked towards them. Griseldis gasped in surprise when she saw the person's face, "Hugh!?" Before she could react, Hugh asked her to move to the side so he could carry the Ravenclaw's injured body. While watching him carrying Vladimir to the mysterious bullet train. Griseldis gently went to hold Opeila's hand implying that they should catch up with the boys, she gave her a reassuring smile and said, "Don't worry, Opeila. No matter what happens I promise to protect you."

Actions: Griseldis bandaging Vladimir with her Gryffindor scarf.

Stamina: 10 | Evasion: 8 | Strength: 8 | Wisdom: 5 | Arcane Power: 7 | Accuracy: 9
Abilities: Fearless | Martial Artist | Evasive Maneuvers

@Katrina Walker, @Ana Beckett, @Alan Vanes, @Calanthe Choi & Everyone in the Vicinity

He was aware of a number of things; that the world around him didn’t seem to have a whisper of life in it, that his senses were seemingly hardwired into hyperawareness, and that his reflection was meeting his eyes cooly with little to no variation. There was a sort of background noise though... ringing in his head. It sounded like muffled voices, echoed in the distance or perhaps silenced by some sort of barrier which separated the boy from another place.

The reflection blinked.

“Ha! I win!” He blinked back, rubbing his eyes after the contest and laughing.

“Only because you were closing one eye at a time.” The reflection grumped back with a small smile.

“Nuh-uh! You were the one doing that, don’t start with me!” He catcalled back, shaking his head and wagging a finger. “I’m lots of things, but not a cheater! You got an advantage, so I get an advantage. Fair play.”

There was a bit of a pause, and he felt a frigid phantom wind cut through the area of total silence. Movement that hadn’t been there before. Change that was blowing in his direction. He turned towards it, feeling the chill whip his bangs back and causing him to squint his eyes as he grit his teeth against the cold. There was a small path being cut before him, a trail towards a destination away from the pool.

“I can’t keep you any longer. You’re needed back. Don’t make them worry more than they already have.” The reflection finally said softly, their eyes cast down. There was a hint of mischief in the voice, a sort of verbal giggle which betrayed the presence of a secret. It looked back up at him, a sly grin curling across features beginning to shift once again. “Inspire me, just like you always have.”

He saw the face changing into something familiar but strange, and he tried to discern the traits, but as he studied them harder, they were reduced to mist; a figment of his wild imagination.

Staggering to his feet as a light exploded across from him, he covered his eyes with a hand, his body screamed in complaint as it grew brighter and brighter, the pain pulling him back to reality and away from the world of shadow and light. The light and darkness swirled together into a seemingly sketched world of black and white, the seams of two dimensional existence unraveling at the seams; inked words and parchment birthed by a pen, destroyed by erasure. The reality was fading away sketch by sketch, time moving backwards and forward again, mistakes thought of and the redacted, written and retconned time and time again. Drafts. Different approaches to the same situation, played backward and forwards again.

Backward and forward again.

Again.

Backward and forward again.

—————————————————

Piérre’s body hurt. His limbs felt like lead and his face, specifically his nose, was on fire. A ringing was in both his ears as a chill numbed his lips. He tasted iron, and he heard noises, people, things, chaos? Something moving around him.

He wouldn’t be able to tell if he didn’t look around.

First some air, a tiny inhale and then a cough as his hand inadvertently and aimlessly waved at the air in front of his face as if he could clear his throat by clearing the air he attempted to breathe. The cough turned into a tiny chuckle, and then devolved into a groan as the action of laughing hurt his sides. He smelled blood. Was it his own?

Eyes fluttered and then squinted open, watching some blurry masses seemly clustered together. A teal steak of hair. Someone familiar. Had he overslept for school or classes. His first words as he opened his mouth in a run-together drawl.

“Mihlateferskewl?” He mumbled incoherently. “Immerslepferfivmerminutessssss....” Closing his eyes again, Piérre tried to roll to his other side, being met in response by a sharp pain in his side and back, hissing in pain and the turning back again, his mind now more clear due to the white fire. He squinted his eyes shut for a moment, almost trying to curl into himself before blinking quickly and attempting to gain his bearings.

Familiar faces swam in his view for a second before clarifying; the teal hair had been Katrina’s, the platinum blonde hair was the Gryffindor Chaser Ana’s, there was a young girl with dark hair he didn’t recognize, and others. There was a kind of orangish hair person with odd green eyes flecked with something black... kind of like his own. But, the face structure. It was a face Piérre had seen before.

“Alan?” He whispered. “You get some cool new contacts or something? They look awesome...” He trailed off, trying to clear his fuzzy head. “Kat? You okay?” He lifted his head, ignoring the pain as he drug himself into a sitting position. He became aware of his bloody nose, which to everyone else would be visibly bent to the left. His green eyes became more and more aware. “Did something happen? Is it something cool?” Of course, now he was seeing more and more of the world around him.

Everything burning, the cold, his pain, the pain around him which reverberated in his core. So many were hurt, and he could feel the hurt even if they weren’t nearby. There was disaster here, misfortune. Something that the Jester couldn’t fix... only temper.

“Hey, you’re all looking like I’m hurt or something. I’m okay, see?” He said with a broad smile. It hurt, to smile with a mask that was surely broken, and he looked far from attractive now. He could taste the blood in his mouth and in his teeth. “Need-a the proof? Here, I stand up for-a you, see?” His language pattern was devolving from English to Italian, his syllables beginning to lilt as his focus on speaking the second language faded bit by bit. His legs trembling, Piérre grit his teeth and brought himself to his feet, crouched low like a wounded animal. One breath of wind and he would surely topple.

He looked around. “I’m-a fine, see? It’s... it’s just a scratch.” Quietly.

Without warning, Piérre suddenly let out a short sob and then lunged towards Kat, Ana, Alan, and the rest, throwing his arms around as many of them as he could. His whole body was shaking, and he was every sore and cold... but they were okay. Everyone here was alright. But there were others who were hurt and would need help. He was helped... now he was the least of their concerns.

“Grazi. Grazi amici... [Thank you. Thank you, friends.]” He was too hurt to care anymore. Just a shaky sigh of relief. He couldn’t say anything, all he could do was just sit there and enjoy the small group and the sheer happiness he felt in his heart that kept him warm despite the fear.

Just a small reprieve. Just the next step.

One step at a time.

“G-go. Go help the others.” He finally said, still holding on tight to the family he wanted to keep together for just a little longer. “I keep myself safe. I keep myself safe for you.”

Action: Hugging Everyone int the Vicinity,
Cracking jokes like he didn’t just have a life-threatening experience.

Stats:
Stamina 3, Strength 3, Evasion 10
Wisdom 10, Accuracy 10, ArcPower 5

Keen Eye
25% chance to notice something

Calming Presence
All the people in the Murder thread (Including Vlad)
Reactivated due to Revival

Alan soon would have to realize that his spell would do nothing to aid the unconscious boy on the ground, wondering what else could be done, as neither did Ana's spell help. [Awareness: d20:6] He wouldn't notice at first, the way Pierre's eyes twitched and then fluttered as if fighting to gain consciousness. Instead he was too deeply caughtin his own thoughts, thinking in sorrow how there had been nothing he could do to make the boy feel better. It was only when he heard the incoherent mumbling of the boy and his gaze snapped to focus on the boy as he finally noticed his struggle and it wasn't until long after when he could feel the sloppy embrace of the weakened kid. "Pierre, you are awake!" he exclaimed in shock and a wave of relief. It took him a while to register what the boy was saying about his eyes... contacts? He then remembered what they were, he knew them well as he had worn them for a while growing up until he had told his parents that he did not need them anymore, about after his first year at Hogwarts. He was still not sure how he had convinced them, because truth to be told he still had not control over his emotions or at least the impact his emotions had on his eyes. But with a bit of acceptance he had grown to no longer be bothered by those abilities. A lopsided smile would form on his face, despite all the dread that filled his heart, "Mhm~" It was easier than having to explain what was really going on, there was more important matters at hand.

"Let's get you out of here, I am not going to leave you behind," he explained, giving Pierre some time to adjust before trying to scoop him up and steady his steps by wrapping the younger boy's arm around his shoulder. "Ana, help me get him out please," he would say turning to @Anastasia Beckett, hoping she would assist him in getting @Piérre Marchonné out of this train compartment. All the way the prefect had his cat still clinging to his clothes as he wrapped his other hand around the kitten in soft support.

If Ana were to help him, they would try to leave the train through the hole that Meenauh had created / If Ana does not post or help Alan would try to help Pierre get out of the train on his own.

Action
Try to help Pierre get out of the train compartment; permission to godmod this was given by Pierre

The high-pitched yelp of pain left her lips as she glanced down at her hands which now had a sizzling burn mark on it. Clearly, in all her years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, the girl had yet to comprehend the fact that probably going back into a train car that held hordes of injured students and had just been imploded off the tracks was not such a great idea. However, common sense was not something the girl was using right now because there was only one thing in the world that mattered more than her burnt hand and that was the barn owl that had been with her over the duration of the three years she had spent at this school. The burning sensation that the contact with the metal left was ever-present as she winced in pain trying to navigate through what remained of the Hogwarts Express.

The sound of the hooting and terrifed calls of the birds seemed to be closer than ever. There was another sound that chilled her to the bone. A scream, one so high-pitched and animlastic in nature it could have not come from any of them. That was when it hit her, an animal. Animals meant pets, pets meant..the scream left her lips again for what seemed like the hundredth time since this entire ordeal had started. "FLUTTERS!" Now, she was on a mission. Her owl was hurting and she was going to find whomsoever and whomever was putting him through such torture and make sure they never laid a hand on her precious bird again. "WHERE ARE YOU?!" She could hear him, his hoots were distinguishable from the rest, Elena just knew. When you spent a certain amount of time with a pet, you developed a bond with them and over time, you learned how this could come in handy in certain situations like this one.

It was so close now, she could almost reach out and touch him. Her eyes scanned the corridors desperately going from compartment to compartment. Nothing, it was all a mess of strewn luggage and the girl honestly did not know which way was up or down given the train had been upended on it's side. Another terrified hoot sounded and the familiar rattle of a metallic cage filled her ears. Elena stared at the next compartment over knowing all too well that sound. "You're here.." She murmured to herself before bellowing once more. "HANG ON, FLUTTERS. I'M COMING!" It hurt, everything hurt. Being flung from a train car at breakneck speed, witnessing your fellow peers having a train car dropped on their leg and hot, scorching metal that burnt you on contact was not how Elena had planned to spend this train ride. Attempting to burst into the compartment or what remained of it where she had heard the hoots come from, she stared at her little bird hooting wildly clearly having registered Starlee as more of a threat than a friend given how she had managed to launch his owl friend out of a window.

Elena however assumed the source of Flutter's discomfort and near death expereince to be none other than the girl standing in front of her her. "What have you done to him?" She hissed, her voice laced with malice and loathing as eye fixated on her terrified bird which clearly was very extremely keen to get out of here. She was not thinking, all logical sense had gone out the window as her wand materialized flicking it at Starlee believing her to be the culprit. "Expelliarmus!" This way, she wouldn't be able to hurt Flutters any more. He would be alright and he could stop feeling scared and defensive. As for right now, the bird looked like he might try to severely claw anyone who got too close.

Perhaps at a later date, the Gryffindor would realize that things were not as she saw it at the present moment but right now, she was not thinking straight clearly overwhelmed by her concern for her pet who in her mind was in very real danger. "You didn't hurt him, did you?" She said in an almost accusatory tone , a sense of distrust in her expression. She clearly had, the way the owl had been hooting. Perhaps soon, Elena Jangleton would comprehend that no one had been actively trying to hurt her owl but she was much too far overwhelmed by her own emotions to think calmly.