Closed Tapping On The Glass

TW: Graphic.

Abilities: Keen Eye, Evasive Maneuvers, Charmer
Stats: STA 8 ★ EVA 10 ★ STR 2 ★ WIS 15 ★ ARC 1 ★ ACC 11
320/800 HP; Valya's Ency
@Piérre Marchonné, @Henry Knight, @Astrea Soleil Neptune

CW: Violence, Injuries

threading as johannes cyprian sauer
group thread with @Henry Knight as charles alluring, etc
speaking in russian, unless specified otherwise

Violence for Violence:

Suddenly addressed by the guy who made Cielle's shoulder a dart team's goalie, Johannes looked up from Mr Incredible's prone form to glare suspiciously up at the Italian. (Red Flag: He took his eyes off the most immediate and unpredictable threat. Why would you do that, Johannes? Fuck!!) A sarcastic answer on his tongue, he could not respond before there was a hand latched onto his sleeve and he was pulled harshly to the ground by what had previously seemed to be the human equivalent of a wet dish sponge turned rogue.

There was no time to further gather his wits before he was forced onto his back with Charles looming over him, the rubber soles of his shoes scrabbling for purchase against the blonde's leverage in a useless endeavour to gain a more advantageous position. "Cic! Little help here!?" His shoulders screamed at him at the pressure he was putting on them by trying (and failing) to throw Mr Incredible's inconveniently hulking weight off, a struggle made more apparent by the fact that one of his arms was trapped behind the other's bracing arm. "Heavy-ass bastard... Off'a me!" Had it all been a farce? A decoy to take advantage of the good consciences of all involved and lure them all into a false sense of security? The shock of cold seeping through his shirt from the hard stone floor sent a tight chill down his spine at the thought as some of his faith in humanity- in his fellow student- was lost. That was the confirmation: He could only trust Cicero. Had he not been the poor fool getting the rug pulled from under him and a spectator instead, he could have called it a brilliantly traitorous trick.

No amount of bracing could prepare him for the first taste of pain, his temporarily claustrophobia-induced twisting and turning only providing an opening for the blonde to take advantage of. A blow to the ear, so close yet so far from a properly incapacitating temple shot, left Johannes reeling from the whiplash. Though his vision rapidly refocused onto the pretentiously tall ceilings, any reaction from crowd or companion alike was drowned out by the repercussions of such a directed strike. A strangled curse escaped him as a sharp burst of agony joined the overwhelmingly present ringing that had taken over half of his hearing, melding into one singular injury with a few more unknown variables than he could take stock of at the moment.

But there was no time to recover and Johannes was not going to go down so easily, especially not in such a vulnerable position. Desperate times call for desperate measures and so, running more on spite and adrenaline than any other cohesive plan, Johannes lunged for the retreating fist and bit down hard into the meat of Charles' lower forearm.

The cotton fabric was tasteless and mouth-drying as his teeth sank into shielded flesh with enough fervour that it didn't matter if he couldn't do nearly as much damage as he would like. Anything. Anything would be better than simply letting himself get hit. Even an only partly-delivered bite, its force dislodged quickly with the drawback momentum of another attack was better than nothing. Dirty tricks had helped him time and time again and, considering his opponent was going for the head first, it might just help him again. Cottontop was trying their best to insert themselves into the fray, thoughtlessly elbowed away at near every turn, but he couldn't wait to be saved by another. If Johannes wasn’t literally in a state of crisis, he could have recognised that the white-haired defender's current help was doing about as much to snap Ken doll out of his trance as a cup of water in a forest fire.

A blow to the nose (though not nearly as strong of a punch as the first) rendered him temporarily dazed with shock and pain, vision blurring with the sudden onslaught of tears he would never let drop. It was as if he had held up a lit sparkler to his face and kept it there, his senses firing off wildly all at once and overwhelming each other. His stunned brain seemed to catch up to his body in half-time, a deep throbbing pain radiating throughout the upper portion of his face with every heartbeat. "Bastar-" Choking harshly on the blood pooling in the back of his throat and clawing at Charles' collar in feral desperation to escape with the scraps of his dignity and reputation intact, it was all instinct's seizure of his body that allowed him to evade the last attack.

He still had his wand- It was his exit ticket, his saving grace, to safety. With magic building behind his fingertips and muscle memory kicking in for the relatively simple wand motion, he threw his head to the side to peer at his wand, as if confirming his plan with the jolt of pressure put on his ear against the floor. "Relashio!" A flurry of movement sounded above him- another body's impact with the ground and the cries of horror forgotten to him in the quest for freedom. No sooner than he had been released from his human restraint did he allow himself to flip over, coughing and gasping at the overwhelming taste of copper filling his mouth. Forgive him for being able to acknowledge the fiasco of a friendly fire occurring less than a foot away, but he was too busy trying not to hack his lungs out between the vertigo of sudden movement.

Between the injuries sustained by Cottontop and him, there was enough gore on them and the floor that he felt like the aftermath of a B-list horror movie that never made it to the box office. He pushed himself up on unsteady feet with the single-minded intent to put further distance between Charles (his one true enemy here, without a discernable justification for 90% of the previous events) and all of the unknown variables that came with the other, groping blindly at his ear to take stock of his injuries.

A horrified outcry caught between his teeth as he realised, devastation soaking into his morale at the same rate as the slippery flow of hot blood spilling down his neck into his collar, that his earring had been torn out completely. It hadn't even been a hanging piece- just a small silver loop- but the sheer brash force and uncoordinated aggression had left him with nothing more than a forcibly split earlobe on that side. The unshakable one-sided banshee screaming resonating through his brain from deeper within was a disorienting bitch to deal with on its own... but to also temporarily lose something else because of this bastard? Even after magical healing, there were little hopes for the piercing than to get it redone later, and that poor silver piece was lost to the dogs anyway. No matter how he looked at it, it was a lose-lose situation.

His earring gone, his unimpressive stature insulted- he could never get a break...What did his height have to do with Charles' inaccurate attacks when they were all on the floor? The nerve of this bastard! Straightening up with all the defiant rage of someone who had not given up on the fight, it was clear that things had not calmed down even with outside intervention. "Don't blame it on me?! It was your own shitty aim at fault, fuckwad!" A simple revulsion jinx shouldn't have thrown the blonde that off his game, even with Cottontop trying his best to get in the way. If they had thrown it down properly in an emptier location and maybe, just maybe (he wasn't hoping for much) some warning or mutual understanding of motivation beforehand, this mess would have never involved so many people. There was less of a chance of collateral damage when there weren't many innocents to damage.

But... With more people gathered, came more attention. Johannes had always been a bit more dramatic for his own good (Cielle could attest to this) and half the action of fighting was the buildup. The trash-talking was the most interesting part to look back upon. The uncomfortably addictive heat of violence was to be the death of him, that much was sure. It was an endless pit of adrenaline and regret he dug into every time and he would always sleep within that grave. His expression split into a manic grin a few degrees too sharp and goading, eyes wild and bluffing. Yes, he was up to something and it was no good at all-- All fucks were off the table now.

When he next spoke over the calm of Niffler's private invitation, his words were spun like artificial sugar and false sympathy, wand tip held threateningly out towards Charles. "What, didya flunk out of Little League 'cause Daddy couldn't practice with you enough?" Intellectually he knew better than to taunt his aggressor after seeing what that too-strong Ken doll could do firsthand, but one could never say that Johannes took an insult lying face down. Indeed, he was invoking the age-old 'talk shit, get hit", just not exactly in that order.

It's the Rule of Beasts.

appearance here
text colour #4d5c7f

Rolls:

Reducio

Charles Attacks: Left Ear
punch 1 = (15+18)*.2 x 20 = 132 + 50 (earring) = 182 damage
acc: [1d20: 7] + 13 = 20
eva: [d20 : 7] + 11 = 18
evasive manuvers: [d10 : 8] = No.
pacing modifier: [d20 : 2] = 0.2

piercing snag = 50 damage
[1d20 : 20] = Yes. Ripped out.
damage: 50 damage

johannes attacks: right-hand bite
bite = 55 damage
acc: [d20 : 9] + 11 = 20
eva: [d20 : 10] + 10 = 20
damage: 1 + 10 [Strength modifier] x 5 = 55

Impaired hit. It does not break the skin.

Charles Attacks: Nose
punch 2 = (7+13) x 20 = 400 damage
acc: [d20 : 15] + 13 = 28
eva: [d20 : 1] + 11 = 12
evasive manuvers: [d10 : 3] = No.
pacing modifer: [d10 : 10] = 1.0

Charles Attacks: Left Hand.
punch 3 = Evaded.
accuracy: [d20 : 4] + 13 = 17
evasion: [d20 : 18] + 11 = 29

TOTAL:
Johannes is at 41.8% HP.
1000 - 582 = 418/1000

Durmstrang Institute's

¤ | Ω | ¤ Romeo Giovanni Marchonné

"English." "Italiano. Italian." "Russian."

| Faint scar on left eye | | Mangled right ear |

Valetin Schnell, Charles Alluring & Johannes Sauer
@Aida Mórsgor-Ama Ellwood, @Henry Knight, & @Astrea Soleil Neptune

Just as I thought that things were winding down, of course thing immediately took a turn for the worst. This came in the form of Charles rapidly performing a series of maneuvers that would firstly pull my Keeper to the ground, and then promptly wreak havoc on him with fists and kicks.

Reflexively drawing back from the scuffle as a new singing reignites itself in both of my ears, I watch the tussle of blonde and brown, and the almost animalistic combat that is now unfolding before me. Tightening my jaw, I try to distinguish one from the other through the squealing that heightens in my head, but to no avail. I pick nothing apart in the red mist that is settling over my gaze at watching tensions string higher and higher, tightening my chest and letting my mind play through countless possibilities.

And then Charlie's fist connects with Valetin's face, causing my captain to reel backwards briefly from the strike.

3 Kick attacks (Axe kick [Miss due to Eva Maneuvers], Upward Kick [Critical Hit], Axe Kick [Hit])
Pacing Modifier: 0.4

Even as self-sacrificing Val encourages Charlie to take another swing, however, the heel of my left foot is arcing downward at the writhing mess of limbs and body. My eye is set on on the broad body of Charles, the target of my axe kick. With a sudden jerk, I accelerate the kick along with gravity, intending to bring down my foot with the full force of my body behind it.

Just before my black bootheel connects with skin, however, Charlie slips out of the way, causing my foot to crack against the ground and produce a small spiderweb of broken stone on impact.

His movement, however, left him open to a small sway as I bring the tip of my right boot directly into his stomach, intending to both pierce and bruise his innards. Though my attack was strong, it was not strong enough to knock the breath out of him.

Without letting him catch his breath, I swing my right foot out and up, balancing on the ball of my left foot before bringing my right heel down in a devastating axe kick once more, this time squarely striking him on his ribcage before dragging my shoe over his body and back to an elevated, athletic position on the balls of my feet. My eyes spark with blue fury the longer I glare down at him, the blood that he has shed on all sides. Johan's ear bleeding from a torn ear piercing.

Screaming, shouting, disorder. Electricity racing in my mind... They have separated, turning to trivial insults, but I am not quite finished yet.

Unacceptable. Totally unacceptable.

'Quindi Finiscila. Then end it.'

Grapple attack (Marital Artist, Improvised Wall Slam Attack [Hit])

My broad, fingerlessly gloved right hand locks around Charlie's neck in a choke, and as both of us struggle in a brief tug of war, I suddenly push into his momentum, slamming him into the wall with a CRACK!

I hold him there for a second before slowly dragging him up the wall so that his feet dangled 6 inches off the ground, my left hand clenched at my side as my teeth grit with determination to put this troublemaker in his place for daring to touch Valetin. If not just for being his and my captain, then for being stupid to a dangerous extent and daring to test my ire.

Reducio

No, I am not sorry.

"Touch Valetin again, and you won't have hands to touch him with." I growl in a base that rumbles in my throat and chest. My hand squeezes. "You've gone too far. I don't care what is going on with you right now. You have no excuse for these actions."

I indicate to bleeding Johan and nose-bleeding Valetin with my free hand. "Fuck up like this again, and I personally kick you off the team." I glare at him unblinkingly. A beat, and my hand suddenly releases him, letting him fall to the ground unceremoniously. I pull the cuff of my glove to ensure that it stays on, before whispering my assertion of the threat. "Consider this your warning. If you have issues, talk to me or Valetin, but I will continue to shut down any issues we have by whatever means necessary."

I'm breathing heavier than normal.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Tl;Dr.
Romeo attacks Charlie 3 times; A missed Axe kick (due to evasive Maneuvers), a contacting Upwards Kick (crit), and a contacting Axe Kick.
He then performs a successful grapple check and drags/slams Charlie into a wall for improvised damage.
After threatening him, he drops him to the ground.

With a pacing modifier of 0.4, Charlie takes a total of 494 damage over the span of this post.

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 7 | Strength 15 Ω
Ω Accuracy 14 | Wisdom 9 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω

rping as cielle johansen.
interacting with charles alluring, johannes sauer, valentin schnell, romeo marchonné, & greta fransson.
@henry knight @astrea soleil neptune @aida mòrsgor-ama ellwood @piérre marchonné @evelynn decipio

The sudden interference of a dark haired boy and his fist was met with a very, very loud "FUCK!" from Cielle as pain bloomed in her shoulder. Sadly, she did not have time to inspect the damage that had been done or respond to the asshole's apology (although she had many things to say to him, all of them containing some kind of angry expletive), because his punch had redirected her own to swing towards... Johannes, the very person she was trying to protect. Oh, for the love of God, did everything in her life have to turn into a practical joke? Her best friend thankfully managed to dodge her accidental almost-punch, but his next words caused Cielle's brows to furrow crossly before she could even finish sighing with relief. He was always so quick to yell. Immediately she started to defend herself, trying very hard not to pout like a sulky kid. "Look, it was an accident, get over yourse-"

Before she could finish her sentence, one of the kids near her yelled an incantation, which was followed by the feeling of a spell hitting her right in the back... and her arms started to move of their own accord. And her legs. Until she was doing the maca-freaking-rena in the middle of the hallway.

Once again, reverting back to the point of everything in her life being a damn joke. Cielle lamented this tragic fact while she angrily danced the macarena, cheeks red with embarrassment. Of all spells...! She glared at the boy who'd cast it, remembering his face so she could hit him as soon as someone put her out of her misery.

Unfortunately for her, her saviour (Johannes) had pushed her behind him aas soon as he freed her from the spell. "Ow," she complained loudly. He was literally pulling her back like a fucking kitten. This was the problem with having friends who were older than you, they treated you like a baby all the time. God, the unfairness of the world. Cielle gritted her teeth at his next words, annoyed at being pushed away to the sidelines to nurse her injured pride, and once again tried not to pout. Sure, she probably (definitely) deserved it, having proved herself pretty much incapable of de-escalating the situation, but that knowledge didn't make it any less frustrating.

To make things even more complicated, the boy who'd started it all had fallen over (almost taking Johannes with him) and was now lying in a miserable heap on the ground. ...Was he unconscious? Dead? Cielle stared at him, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening, before meeting Johannes' panicked look with a helpless shrug. She approached him sullenly, still a little bit salty about being told to "stand the hell down", but before she could say anything, Johannes - and the dude who had hexed her - was pulled downwards by the same guy who had been lying facedown literally five seconds ago. Cielle took a step back, eyebrows shooting upwards in shock. Had he been playing dead to trap them in this attack? For some reason, she found herself thinking about opossums (maybe that punch from earlier had somehow fucked up her brain as well as her shoulder). They played dead when threatened, didn't they...?

The calling of her name from Johannes snapped her back into reality. She stared at the kerfuffle on the floor in front of her, unsure how exactly he expected her to help him in this situation. "What do you want me to do?" Cielle awkwardly ran around the trio to get a better perspective on what was happening - and also because she had no idea what else she could do other than run around screaming her head off. "Oi, leave him the fuck alone!" she shouted at the big bulky guy punching up her friend, and looked around for a weapon... anything, really. She noticed a worried-looking blonde standing near the edge clutching books to her chest and yelling for them to stop fighting (fat load of good that was), and briefly contemplated grabbing one to throw at them (the books, not blondes). Maybe that would make Mr Anger Issues back off... there had to be a few textbooks that were heavy enough.

Before she had the chance to weaponize her classmate's books, though, a loud smack as Anger Issues punched... himself??? drew her attention away from the girl with the books. Now Cielle was just confused, really. What the hell was happening? She glanced over at Johannes, cringing backwards slightly at his bleeding ear. Ew, that was gross. Cielle's hand instinctively brushed against her own ear, checking to make sure her own ear was still in one piece before running over to him and the boy with white hair. She might have snapped at Johannes to stop running his mouth at a clearly dangerous person if she wasn't so focused on getting revenge for being hexed.

Cielle pulled the pale boy's arm back roughly to make him face her. Damn, he got beaten up really badly. Somewhere deep inside, she felt kind of bad for what she was about to do next, considering his current state, but she lacked the self-control to stop herself. "Don't hold back, yeah?" she hissed, eyes narrowed. "Well take this, asshole. I'd hex you back, only I don't have my fucking wand." (Also because she sucked at wandwork but he didn't need to know that.) With that, Cielle swung her hand back and bitchslapped the poor boy across the face.

Reducio

niff - evasive maneuvers: dice 1d20 = 2 ---> does not dodge
niff - evasion: dice 1d20 + 10 = 11 | cielle - accuracy: dice 1d20 + 11 - 1 = 13
---> cielle hits niff.
damage: 20*20*0.8 = 320
---> niff is knocked unconscious by cielle's slap.

Cielle didn't know her own strength. She hadn't really intended for it to cause too much damage, but the boy literally collapsed. The shock froze her anger over, and she glanced over at Johannes for help, unsure what to do now. "Ummm. What the fuck." She rubbed her stinging palm on the side of her leg awkwardly, looking up at Anger Issues again. The voice of reason in the back of her head told her that she ought to run before he started punching her as well. It was probably good advice that she should definitely follow ASAP, but she was still trying to understand what had just happened, so her body wasn't in sync with her mind just yet.

The sudden kick from the dark-haired punchy boy (Romeo) towards Anger Issues startled Cielle back into the present. He'd missed, but he tried again, and this time he was successful. His next movements happened so quickly that she could hardly process them, and by the time her brain caught up, Anger Issues was against the wall while the other boy threatened him. Cielle took a step back, then another. If he liked the boy she'd just knocked out as much as he appeared to, then she was really, truly fucked.

Abilities: Keen Eye, Evasive Maneuvers, Charmer
Stats: STA 8 ★ EVA 10 ★ STR 2 ★ WIS 15 ★ ARC 1 ★ ACC 11
0/800 HP; Valya's Ency
@Piérre Marchonné, @Henry Knight, @Astrea Soleil Neptune, @Ivy Bellamy

CW: Violence, Injuries

threading as johannes cyprian sauer
group thread with @Henry Knight as charles alluring, etc
speaking in russian, unless specified otherwise

Violence for Violence:

Not a single decent reaction, not even from Cielle (ever the useful one [/j]), at his taunt! Cie, the one person he was 100% certain knew of muggle things, was more concerned about getting her own confusion settled between the chaos surrounding them., which was absolutely great. Blondie didn't count, by virtue of the frankly insulting idea of Johannes being the same height as an 11-year-old. He wasn't some British garden gnome, okay? Sheltered purebloods and their complete inability to get muggle concepts... It was a wonder why he even tried. "It's called baseball, you uncultured Sasquatch. Pick up a book sometime, if you can even read. Or maybe basketball's more up your alley with those wannabe giant genetics!"

Unbeknownst to Charles, Johannes was in full view of the murderous Iron Curtain coming up from behind, loaded with threats and an undeniably impressive amount of arm strength to hoist the blonde so far up in the air. Why was it that he was getting harassed by Quidditch players, who regularly dealt with balls with a power that would make any pro pitcher proud? Now the English- The English surprised him, but even such an intimidating warning and show of strength apparently couldn't fix the shithole of a situation they'd been forced into.

Johannes had a distinct feeling that the fight wasn't over as Mr Incredible turned back towards him. Even limping, the blonde was just intimidatingly fast enough to grab the struggling Johannes by the shoulders and practically manhandle him into a wall. The sound of flesh against stone cracked directly next to his uninjured ear and the German couldn't help but wince at the impact. Was Blondie trying to cause hearing damage? All the better to tune him out with or something, but he would much rather like his eardrums intact. "You just don't know when to quit..." Unsurprisingly (and this time quite deservingly), mouthing off an already proven dangerous mofo in such close proximity after narrowly avoiding getting his brains smashed in only resulted in pain.

The arm pinning him against the wall was forced to take the brunt of his weight as all the breath in Johannes's body seemed to disappear, unable to double over at the sheer force as his lungs refused to draw in new air. His wand, previously so confidently (perhaps even too confidently) wielded, clattered to the floor at his feet with a carelessness that would make any good wandmaker wince. This, he was sure, was not the end of this round- Charles liked his combos. Yet the next blow did not come, hovering just shy of its target. Instead, a sharp smack and the bewildered voice of Cie marked his unexpected break from the violence and Johannes found himself on his unsteady feet once more.

So abruptly released, he slid heavily to the ground with a new appreciation for the ability to breathe that was not constantly hindered by a knockoff Sherkverse Prince Charming. Scratch his earlier questioning- Maybe it wasn't hearing damage but oxygen deprivation that was the goal. Johannes, who had narrowly recovered from being at risk of both in the span of a few minutes, couldn't put it past Charles to kill two birds with one stone.

Slowly pushing past the exertion of a no-longer spasming diaphragm and uselessly wiping at his nose with a sleeve, he moved his attention over to check in on his ally and took a double-take at the unconscious figure of the Niffler. And, as if to add salt to the wound, Cicero was floundering as if there wasn't someone at her feet and she didn't just escalate the situation in the span of a single move. "How- How the fuck did you knock him out?!" Johannes had been at the wrong end of some of Cielle's (admittedly extremely friendly in comparison) attacks many times in the past, but he was sure it wasn't enough to down someone completely, even if they were already banged up... right?

He hadn't really seen or heard what had happened, not in its specifics, but he could gather enough context clues to know that they were fucked. The intentions didn't matter as much as the aftermath with Cicero standing there like an idiot in front of a collapsed kid after clearly hearing how protective Hercules was of said guy.

Shiiit, wasn't she supposed to be his Plan B? Why was he becoming her backup instead? Ah, to hell with it, it would do no good if both of them were in danger. Briefly sending an unimpressed look at his pseudo-sister as Charles slid back into Romeo's viewpoint, he made a lunge for his forgotten wand and finally fulfilled his long-held magical threats. "Vermillious!" From where he leant against the wall, he sent a burst of sparks between the two brutes, aiming to temporarily blind his perpetual attacker from causing any further damage. Hercules, he hoped, could be reasoned with but Therapy Ken Doll had proved to be extremely uncooperative.

They couldn't afford to have someone stuck in the Hospital Wing, not with how public their scene was, but it was only a matter of time before someone else inevitably joined Jack Frost on the floor. Hopefully, with all his efforts, Cielle wouldn't be the unlucky next victim... Ah hell, even an uninterested passerby could tell she was too close to the crime scene not to be.

The white-haired boy looked properly down for the count but Johannes needed to cover all of his bases, especially after being so thoroughly duped. "Cottontop, you better not be faking that, cause if you are..." If this was another trick, it wouldn't matter if his magic liked to appeal to pacifism. He had the fists and very little patience to make up for it. Maybe it was overkill and maybe it would only result in greater punishment on his behalf, but he'd send everyone six ways to Sunday just for messing with his already damaged trust in humanity.

"I ain't waiting for your guard dogs to start foaming at the mouth, so get the hell up.. Hear me?" Using Rapid Reviver. If y'all also K.O. in this thread... Well. RIP. Hell, it wasn't that he wouldn't wait, it was that no one could.

It's the Rule of Beasts.

appearance here
text colour #4d5c7f

Johannes is at 19.9% HP.
418 - 219 = 199/1000