Faerietale Endings Fall Ball 2022 Locked

NOTICE: This episode does involve quite a bit of blood and maybe some ancient magic?

Not Tonight Love, I Have a Headache

XIIJ

Colin's head was throbbing and his entire body ached as the fight with the hag doll continued. He'd been battered and scraped up pretty badly as he fought with the thing that tried to kill Lily. Nevertheless, his grip on the Real Girl's neck was faltering. He knew it would fail soon if he wasn't able to shift to a better position.

A renewed barrage of attack and counter attack would send Colin sprawling! He heard his friend Tai cast yet another fire spell. He fully expected it to fail. Not that Tai sucked or anything, but so far, his magic had had almost no effect on the hag doll! Colin wondered if it were a sign of the Real Girl weakening --- for this time, Tai's incendio struck their common foe with force!

As she wrothe with the pain of Tai's strike, Colin could clearly see that her features were morphing again. Her human characteristics faded as she revealed sharp teeth, and a face less girl and more --- demonic almost. This was no true demon, Colin knew, but if magic could be used to create an arcane demon, this would be it!

The Real Girl shoved Lily's wand into Colin's chest. He knew she was going to try something! She's proven to be a powerful caster already, and now there was no way he could defend himself! Her casting backfired, however, sending her raw flipendo flying off into the sky where it almost hit one of the foreign boys up on his broom! Colin's hands were still trying to strangle the unlife out of the horrid monster, though, and he couldn't afford to pay attention to whether the other boy was hit or not. He snarled at the thing as she twisted and wriggled in his weakening grasp!

The Real Girl finally broke his grasp! She twisted and flung herself about so violently that she tore his hands from her throat! With a gleeful, hissing voice, she threw Colin to the ground! "Filthy, nasty JEALOUS child!" He face was contorted into a seething and boiling rage! She hissed and sputtered like an old tea kettle and her tongue lolled about like a huge slug! She stood over Colin, the victorious fighter, and aimed Lily's wand straight down at him. Colin snarled. How dare this monster use his cousin's wand! Clearly, Colin had hampered the Real Girl's efforts to come fully alive, and he would do anything to keep her from that goal. And now it appeared that she would try to end his life.

"The only thing jealous here is you! You're a Fake Girl! Nothing more than a dark enchantment!" Colin had gotten up onto his knees and drew his own wand. He wasn't sure if he could even defend himself against any spell she chose to cast.

"I'll teach you to keep me away from my FaMiLy!" She snarled at Colin and twisted Lily's wand about between her fingers. He got to his feet to face the Real Girl. She began to cough and Colin did as well! There was something in the air around them! It didn't seem to affect the Real Girl too badly, but Colin felt like he himself was being choked! "I DON'T NEED YOU! DIE!"

Real Girl aimed her wand at Colin's coughing and choking form. Anger roiled across her face. Her eyes blazed with it and her lips contorted into a rictus of evil. Who could create such a work of dark magic, Colin thought as he wheezed. "AVAD---!"

Real Girl's last spell was never cast. The boy who looked so much like Piérre --- Romeo was his name, Colin recalled --- descended on his broom and literally kicked the Real Girl's head straight off her shoulders! Colin's mind registered the satisfying crunch of hard bone as part of her skull caved in. The head went flying, and the twitching and blood soaked body fell limp at Colins feet.

He watched as her head soared some distance away and thudded into one of the oblivious party goer's back. How strange it was! Here he was, banded together with many valiant knights and warriors all seeking to fight and destroy a horrific work of cruel and dark magic, a hag doll that had tried to slay an innocent, and not a few yards away, other kids were chatting, dancing, enjoying the banquet, all entirely oblivious to the life and death struggle that was happening behind their backs!

Colin heard the Real Girl screeching, heard as her head thunked onto the hard stones of the courtyard. His eyes focused on the now still body of the Real Girl. It's clothing was all torn and its skin was burnt and gashed and battered. Colin reached down and picked up Lily's wand, wiping the monster's blood from its wood.

He stood up straight and shrugged. The battle was nearly over now and he turned towards the place where it would end. The screams of terrified kids washed over Colin. Their faces were fuzzy and their voices distant in his mind. As they tried to escape the plain of battle, they seemed no more than shadows at the edges of vision. Against the tide, Colin headed straight for where the Real Girl's head lay on the ground, some dark and evil magic still animating it. It rolled about on the stones, still shrieking its empty threats! "DIE!! ALL OF YOU!!"

Tai was there, holding the head in place. He seemed much calmer, more in control of his emotions than Colin had ever seen before. He said something to the Real Girl in Japanese. The cadence of the language was strange to Colin's ears, but that wasn't what gave Colin pause. It was more the look in his friend's eyes and tone of his speech. It sounded almost comforting. Compassionate.

Tai spoke again to the Real Girl. "If you want, I'll be your friend while we wait." Such compassion moved Colin's heart. Not towards the Real Girl, but towards Tai himself. He was trying, Colin felt, to calm a thing that was inconsolable, to soothe a thing that could never be at rest.

The hag doll continued to rant, for all Tai's efforts. "I want to be REAL!" The Real Girl snarled, raging at the fading of the enchantments that held her together. Its flesh, once soft and warm under Colin's strangling grip, was hardening back into the inert substance from which it had been ill and horrifically knit. "I will be REAL! I WILL BE REAL!"

Colin knelt down, facing the Real Girl. His own instinct for compassion compelled him to speak to the Real Girl. Not as a friend, but in truth. He looked into her battered face. Her red hair was tangled, her skin blood stained, her one blue eye stuck open. Colin wondered where the other eye had rolled off to. "You are not real." Colin spoke the truth plainly. He looked over towards Tai, who was still holding the thing still. "That is the truth. You are a creature of magic, nothing more. Ill conceived and ill wrought." Colin heard footsteps approaching. It was the boy, Romeo. He had a sword in his hand. "Your desire for life brings only suffering." The Real Girl snarled again. "Tai offers you compassion, and I will too, but only in truth. You are not a real girl. Lily is a real girl, and you tried to destroy her. You will be destroyed."

"I AM REAAAAAAAAL!"

WHUNK!

Romeo brought the handle of his sword down so hard that he smashed the thing's head into shards. There was no blood. No brains. Nothing truly living. All was enchantment of the darkest kind and now even that was ended.

Colin stood and shrugged again. It was over. The Battle of the Hag Doll. The forces of good had triumphed, with main force and with heart. He saw Ileen come over towards them, observing the carnage and the injuries. He lifted Lily's wand to his lips and kissed it gently. He hoped that somehow Simon was able to get her to hospital and that she was still alive.

"I need to find Clair..." Colin said simply.

Samhanach is a Scottish word for monster.

Interactions: Real Girl Hagdoll || Mentions: @Clair Fernandez | @Lily Brown | @Gemima Sable | @AngelFyre McCubbin | Valentin Schnell (@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood) | @Shiawase Mamori | @Taizu Miyashiro

Moderated Action: None. Just finishing up. @Piérre Marchonné | @Aurelia Notresvace

Inventory: Wand; miscellaneous bits of this and that in his pockets.
Stamina: 6 | Evasion: 6 | Strength: 4 | Wisdom: 7 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 6
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10 (627) | 11 (1140) | 12 (828) | 13 (1364) | 14 (1155)

| I - II - III - IV - V |
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¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide. Durmstrang Institute's

Romeo Giovanni Marchonné

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

| Faint Scar on Left Eye & Mangled Right Ear | \ Fingerless Glove on Right Hand / | Lichtenberg Figure on Right Arm and Down Back |

Valentin Schnell, @Colin McCoire & @Taizu Miyashiro
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

With a small hiss, I felt the bite wound knit over with magically-accelerated natural healing. Well, that was step one of healing it with minimal scarring, but I doubted that such a severe wound was going to remain invisible forever. Gritting my teeth as my mind hummed with thought and the need to kill the pain that I was feeling, I catch a small whisper as if it were on the wind... so quiet it almost didn't exist. It was in my native tongue; perhaps this was how I heard it so much easier... the simple words that were carried upon it.

"Forever. Forever and ever..."

Forever... ad infinitum. That elusive grandeur.

Such a beautiful dream, but what had the right to last for an eternity? What was it about eternity both beautiful and terrifying; that made it so coveted yet tabooed? Was it more of a curse than a blessing, were one to look at it the right (or wrong) way? Wasn't it better to realize that in the end there was something greater than the shell that we lived in, the fragile form that was so vulnerable to harm that held within it so many somethings that could easily outlive the heat death of the known universe? Love, ambition, hope, compassion... In the end, which was better; to have a shell that decayed and was devoid of those living traits, or to someday depart from it and become one with that soul that did live forever, no longer tied down to a pained body limited in its abilities. Perhaps it was my depth of my faith, or perhaps it was simply that I saw the world in a different way, but despite the immediate loveliness of the ideal, the tempting nature of watching the world age around you... I preferred the presence of a short mortal life in exchange for an eternal after one.

Forever.

The quick patchup was not perfect... but it would suffice for now; long enough for me to make good on eliminating this threat once and for all before retreating to the safety of a Hospital Wing or to my own devices. "Thank you, Val. Again, thank you." I managed before finally drawing away and confronting the thing that had tried to (presumably) kill me.

Even as I witnessed that thing tried its damndest to bite the boy that was crouched alongside it, I approached as quietly as my armor and heavy footsteps allowed me. That boy that had tried to rip that thing's throat out had by now also stood alongside the creature and was speaking to it as well. As much as I knew that it would not be able to perform any meaningful harm upon them... that did not mean that I was not still wary as the soft leather sheathe found itself a comfortable place in my palm. I didn't put it past anything to be as weak as it depicted itself to be; you could say that I was fond of the double-tap, the little extra reassurance that whatever it was that I had tried to kill was for certain not going to try and kill me again.

Even as the scream of that thing rang in both my ears, almost causing me to double over and cover both my ears so that I could rid myself of the unpleasant sound, I grit my teeth and glared down upon it as the sword hit finally arced through the air in pursuit of contact with the thing. The frequency in my head rises to a crescendo, higher and higher; louder and louder until its sound was indiscernible from the screaming head.

Until all was finally silent with the sound of shattering glass and a splash of warm liquid spattering across my face.

Eyes closed, all I can do is just take a moment to breathe, to hear the sounds in my head so much louder than the world around me. Feeling my hand shaking ever so slightly as I draw the sword back towards me, as my gloved hand smears brand new crimson upon the pommel of the sword; trying my best to clean it to little avail. The younger boy returned to the place where the body had fallen and picked up the cherry wand, presumably to return it to the one that it belonged to. My eyes open weakly as another young boy-- this one with two different colored eyes, one a similar shade to my own and the other a yellowish amber-- spoke to me in a foreign tongue. Shaking my head lightly and opening my mouth a bit as my brow creased, I tried to formulate some words, perhaps ask him for an English translation of what he said... but nothing really came to me.

I was tired. For tonight, I wanted the battle to be done. I wanted the events and the adrenaline to fade away for this evening. Enough had been done, enough had gone wrong and I had already had my fair share of foreign interactions. I was far from a person person, and this alone (even before this thing had attacked) had been taxing on my social battery.

Now, I just wanted to return to the Durmstrang housings and hit the sack for the night... but... like Valentin had mentioned as I felt his arm and perhaps his whole self fall about my tense shoulders, I was hypertense and bloodied with the vermillion that was both my own and another's. I closed my eyes one more time, wiping my face with my glove and only succeeding in smearing iron across my visage. "I would kill for a perfectly normal Muggle shower right now." I smiled weakly with a sigh, a slouching forward of my shoulders and then took the first of what would likely be several wobbly steps homeward bound. It was good to have the earth under my feet; I needed the presence of solid earth beneath me so that I could regain my footing. Still, that didn't prevent me from using Valentin's Silver Arrow as a light crutch.

Valentin's face buried itself into my arm, and even through the thrumming of my pulse in both ears, I cannot help but become aware of the smallest, faintest vibrations in Val's own throat, and a small shivering in his chest. Was Il Niffler crying? No, no... none of that... the night was done and there was nothing more to mourn about. Weary, exhausted, my hand trails from the Silver Arrow to Val's head, my fingers gently curling into his hair and pressing him further into my arm in the form of a comforting squeeze; that firm, gentle pressure that I had more than once given to my twin when he had decided to curl up on my side of the bed after having a nightmare... I was the protector, the chaser off of the shadows. "It'll be alright, Valetin." I promise quietly, despite my limbs and my eyelids feeling as if they were made of lead. "Everything's going to be fine. The next step and then the next. No more battles tonight; they can wait for another day."

Surely it wasn't even past ten at night, and everything that had happened here couldn't have taken place for longer than the past hour. Hogwarts sure seemed to have a flair for drama, didn't they? Much more than sturdy and stable Durmstrang... perhaps everything that Piérre had told me over the past few years had had much more merit than I had previously thought. But for tonight, as I watched him trying to wrangle a powerful jet of water that had him stuck on the ground... I decided that it would have to wait; between my exhaustion and his responsibility for this ruined celebration before I would speak to him on such matters.

They could wait for another day.

Action: Exiting Main Ball with Valentin in a bit of a daze

Reducio

Stats:

Ω Stamina 610/900 | Strength 15 | Evasion 7 Ω
Ω Wisdom 9 | Accuracy 15 (19) | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

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

Items:

Wand, "Hobby-Horse" Firebolt ("Steed"), Peacetied Italian Longsword

In the role of Beater, if an ALLY dodges a bludger during the round, there is a 20% chance that you catch that bludger with your bat and you send it at a RANDOM enemy target.

Note: For the rules lawyers out there: you are not considered your own ally.

In the role of Beater, if you critically hit with a bludger, instead of doing double-damage you do 2.5x damage. If you critically fail with your bludger attempt to hit, rather than having your bludger randomly target another user (including yourself or an ally) the bludger cannot target you on a critical fail (but it can still target your allies). On a re-target, there is a random roll for target and then a fresh accuracy roll.

None

It was such an easy spell, but it seemed that for today the boy was being plagued with ill luck that liked to make him the butt of the universal joke. Not that Piérre minded; he rather liked a good joke... it's just that when a usually calm stream of water conjured by the Aguamenti spell suddenly transformed into a Gyarados-level Hydro Pump that threw the Britalian to the ground and reduced him to a struggle of his arcane prowess verses his physical strength as the pressurized water slammed him back and forth. Figaro, who had been expecting a shower as his mage tended to be very vocal about his intentions with the feline, only watched on with flicking ears and slightly widened eyes at the new circumstance that he found his closest partner in.

Well, he was most certainly washing himself and his eyes out, that was for dang sure.

"Ach! Pffblblfflll! Don't-a worry about me, Figgy, I- Pflbflbfllllfff!" The boy's words would come between slaps of water to the face as he directed the water hose of a wand skywards to avoid splashing anyone else with little more than remnant mist from the water that dispersed into the night sky. Choking on the water still, the boy released his wand and let the arcane power leave both him and his implement simultaneously. With a sputter and a rush, the wand gradually ceased the rapid pressurized water and spun itself into a circle as the last magically-conjured water finally left it.

Now breathless, on his back, and soaking wet, Piérre sighed deeply before rubbing both his eyes and drawing up his knees into a crisscross. "Mmmmmmmmph..." He complained aloud, throwing his arms out to strike the cobble on either side. This had all been a disaster, he reflected as he listened to the crackling flames from the banquet table nearby and the screams of everyone trampling everyone else as they rushed to exit. "I don't know why I thought the result would be any different if I was in charge of running the event..." He bemoaned aloud. "It always seems to end the same, and it never ends well for me." He stretched his legs out again, barely arching his back up so that his hips slightly thrust towards the sky in a sort of reversed cat-stretch.

"Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffblblbllbllb..." Piérre complained to himself, continuing to lay down as more and more people left the festival and the music of the record detuned into melted silence. Content to watch the rest of the stars come out as he lay down flat on his back again, Piérre took note of a pair of young girls who were similarly laying [@Illusia Bobich & Amelia Miller@Lily Blaze] on the ground... though these two appeared to be fully unconscious. Ah... hm... they must have gotten a bad dose of the Sleeping Draughts that he and the rest of the committee had put into some of the apples.

After staring at the two of them for a while as he did his best impression of both of them, Piérre finally let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes as he got to his feet and brushed off the filthy and tattered black and white striped suit. With a stretch over his head and a cough as he accidentally strained his rib muscles a bit too much, the pale Piérre wiped his nose once and shook his head to clear his thoughts before reaching into his jacket and withdrawing two small phials of emerald green liquid and then crossed to either girl. With a gentle, respectful hand, the boy uncorked each and then parted soft lips with a pinkie fingertip just enough so that he could pour the liquids into their mouths. If the potions had been brewed correctly, the girls would have the most recent potion in their system nullified (likely the Sleeping Draught) and would gradually come to. They would see overhead a younger (yet pale) looking boy with dull emerald eyes and deep shadows beneath them; upon his jaw was a fair bit of acid green scruff, the same color as his hair. He was dressed in a ragged black and white striped suit and pants. If they were in any way aware of Muggle pop culture, they would realize that this was a cosplay of the character Beetlejuice.

To each of them, Piérre would gently smile and then replace the now-emptied phials into his coat again. "Hey, good morning sleeping beauties." He whispered quietly yet intensely. "The party's over... and it seems like neither of you were collected... would you allow me the pleasure of escorting you back to where you need to be?" After giving them a few seconds to get their bearings, he would offer each a hand (if they wanted it) and would let them take a look around at the ruined ball. A sigh. "Yes... people are a bit rough on the decorations, I'm afraid. I'll clean it up myself, don't worry... Let me help you back to your dorms so you can go to sleep in your own beds, okay" A silver bengal would twine around their legs in turn, meowing loudly as if desiring all the attention that they could ever lavish upon the creature.

So saying, unless either had a complaint, the proctor of the Faerietale Endings ball would finally exit the party after extinguishing the banquet table with a simply conjured Extinguo with the two formerly unconscious beauties in front of him so that they could not get lost in the castle. They would be safe enough with him, he hoped...

At the worst, perhaps there would be some explaining to do to a Professor or a Prefect that happened to be on patrol that night... but Piérre hoped that they would not only believe his story but also let him go on in peace without threat of detention.

He would not see the Real Girl's corpse, at least not during his need to worry more about the two girls he was now responsible for... but perhaps it was for the better; the boy had a nasty habit of picking up things that he probably should not pick up for his own health and safety...

Action: Struggle^tm & Clean up the Mess, Exiting when everyone else has Exited
Figaro: Sniffing Around before Exiting with Piérre

The Gryffindor's well-deserved sassy reply went unheard. Ileen was fully focused on the crowd not far from the place where the creepy creature had presumably met its end. She didn't know that the still talking head was destroyed at that very moment.
She saw only the blood, the injuries. The horror. And all she had to do was get there before anyone took permanent physical damage. After all, at least she had seen the flying knight almost mangled.

The thoughts in her head swirled wildly in circles and a dull feeling grew in her gut. That she might be too late. Once again. But she couldn't be, could she? As a healer, you were always there in time if someone was still alive, right?
She had seen it differently, too.

Although only a few feet separated her from the group, it felt as if it was unreachable. Ileen gritted her teeth, her fingers clutching her wand almost numb. It felt as if she were suddenly moving through honey, as if time were suddenly viscous and no longer simply flowing past her. Panting, she leaned forward, mustering all the strength she had to keep her legs running. Every step demanded everything of her and the feeling of desperation grew into a tamable knot that cut off her air. And suddenly everything blurred before her eyes. Was she crying?
In her slow-motion run, the girl raised her hand and wiped her eyes, but they did not focus again. Only one person stuck out. A boy who stood not far from her and looked at her (Colin). And suddenly she was no longer walking across the courtyard, but running down the wooden stairs of the fight club. Down to Victor. To Victor, who had been alive, but also not. With whom she had been too late. Who had not wanted to go, injured and barely alive, but without the will to go on.
Her eyes widened and her heart beat up to her throat. She heard the dull throbbing in her ears as she stared at the boy and redoubled her efforts to get to him. And then suddenly she was storming through the common room, past first graders and her classmates who had cross-examined Victor. The common room blurred and now it was the last ball. She saw him in front of her, no longer willing to fight, with wounds that could not be seen. She had been too late. Every time.

And then she reached the boy. Her own feet were sore and ice cold, wet with blood and dirt. Her once pristine white dress was also speckled with dirt and blood. Her curly hair fell wildly to her shoulders as she stood panting and staring at the boy. Her breathing was heavy and her dark eyes were wide open - she saw something that no one else could see.
Was he really here? Slowly, she reached out and touched Victor's (Colin's) arm. It felt real. And he was bleeding. Ileen's eyes filled with tears as she very gently tapped him with the wand to heal his wounds. The ice blue eyes rested on her as she cast the healing spell and she felt a hot, stabbing pain in her chest.
There was no condemnation in those eyes. As the wounds closed, so did one of the many wounds in her heart. A gentle smile would flit across her lips as she felt the healing and now tears ran down her cheeks. Did this mean that he would now leave?
And the brief relief turned into sheer fear. The ice-blue eyes stared at her, then they lowered their gaze and suddenly he moved away from her.

Ileen winced as everything fell back into place. The boy was no longer Victor but Colin. The gentle smart boy who had fought here even though he was so young.
Ileen blinked in confusion and hastily wiped away her tears. "Are you alright? You might want to go to the hospital wing." Her voice was soft and full of worry as she scanned him for further injuries. Trying to pick up what she had left. Her purpose.
But part of her was not here. Part of her had just disappeared, the healed part had gone with him. Into the darkness. Hesitantly, she looked into the shadows, but she could not see the blue eyes.
Gently, she squeezed Colin's arm and gave him a warm smile before turning to look for more injured people. Had she paid her debt or failed? It wasn't entirely clear.

It could have been stopped. Could have. With the right person at the right time to keep her here. Now she wanted nothing more than to melt into the shadows. Percival had been her clue. The part that wanted to stay here was firmly attached to him.

The other had made a pack. The letters were still written in blood on the floor. Part of her destiny and her soul now belonged to him. Victor.

Action | casting Reparifors on Colin

Interacting | Colin McCoire
Mentions | Valentin Schnell (@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood) |
@Victor Moore | @Piérre Marchonné & Romeo | @Percival Rainwood

Ability: Sixth Sense, Prodigal Charms Learner, Healing Sage, Perfectionist
Stats: Sta:9 | Ev:12 | Str:3 | Wis:12 | Arc:7 | Acc:12

Bubba stood there for a moment after kissing Sam on the cheek. He wasn't sure what had come over him or why he'd done that, it just felt like the right thing to do. Still, now he was concerned that he'd maybe done too much too soon or, well, something. He didn't want to ruin what, so far at least, had been a perfect evening. He quickly knew, thankfully, that Sam seemed to have rather enjoyed it rather than had a problem with it. He saw her cheeks flush and the rest of her reaction could have some straight out of a fairytale. As she looked him in the eyes he had a look halfway between a dazed stupor and a dreamy smile.

Bubba was afraid he'd been so fatootsed by the idyllic scene that he and Sam were playing out that he may have missed some of what Sam had said. He decided he should just jump straight back in at the first opportunity like nothing had happened. Ah, the now infamous doll, how could he forget that odd scene? "I dunno," he said as he considered the danger of dolls. There was always Chucky after all, "I mean it is a school for magic, I suppose if it's a magical doll it could be dangerous." He said with a shrug.

When she asked why summer camp reminded him of home he had to think for a second, they had barely been together this evening but it felt like they'd been talking for hours. After a moment, he remembered what he was referring too. "Oh, just the Ilvermorney students there," he said with a reminiscent look on his face, "Their accents are pretty similar to where I spent the first few years of my life, it's nice to hear."

After their disastrous attempt at the party game (Bubba hated every minute of it, and Sam never rescued him), Bubba and Sam found each other again and were starting to enjoy the party when he witnessed a most peculiar occurrence. A grey niffler had somehow gotten on her shoulders and stolen her necklace and earrings, "Hey!" Bubba shouted as the niffler ran off, "Get back here you little shit!"

Interacting: @Samantha Salwis Mentioning: @ N/A

She was on her knees, aware of the mayhem taking place around her in muted, somewhat disinterested observance. Everything and everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. She recognized the Courtyard, but how she had gotten there was not altogether clear to her. Why was she here? Why was a ringing hum, followed by thick, intermittent silences, the only thing she could hear?

She looked around her, confused. Was that Shiawase's wheelchair? It looked odd, but just why it did was not registering in AngelFyre's brain. It was on its side, one wheel spinning. The fact that Shiawase was not in it was simply not registering as a red alert to her in the moment.

Something was bubbling up, or trying to anyway, from the depths of her muddled thinking. She felt like there was something important she needed to do. Everything important to her usually centered on Simon, but a casual glance around her did not bring him into focus. This did not concern her. In fact, nothing much concerned her in the moment. She did not know where Simon was but more importantly, she was not bothered by not knowing. THAT should have concerned anyone who knew her.

But people were busy.

There was a battle going on almost out of her sightline. Kids were fending off dark magic and homicidal dolls. Adults were....? Well, who knew what the adults were doing? What they were not doing was helping.

As she reached up to tug at her earlobe, hoping to silence the ringing, she felt something wet and warm and slippery coat her fingers. Looking down, she could see the front of her clothing was covered in the same substance. It was not registering as blood. What she was beginning to register was a searing pain to the right side of her head and a hand that was swelling to near party balloon proportions. And nausea.

AngelFyre attempted, sort of, to get up, but dizziness and nausea stymied that effort immediately. She had tried to brace herself when making her attempt to stand, and was unaware that her hand had found a part of the rabbit statuary that had been Flipendoed minutes before at the Real Girl to slow her down. Her blood on the statuary shrapnel was the answer to the puzzle that no one was trying to piece together.

All of a sudden she was very sleepy. It looked like Colin was being his exuberant self and was participating in some wrestling or tickling match up ahead. She sighed deeply as she lay down, idly wondering if Simon was ticklish, but the thought bounced off into nothingness as unconsciousness blanketed her.

Action: Concussed and Out; was no help to @Colin McCoire (sorry bestie!)

Stats: Sta 7 || Eva 6 || Str 1 || Wis 7 || Arc 6 || Acc 8

Health: ???/700 (-40 in damage, -10 each round from spider bite; suffered hard blow to the head from concrete shrapnel)

Abilities: Seer 1 || Fearless

The Trunk :

Inventory: Wand, wand holster, claddagh ring, handkerchief, slim-line trousers beneath dress, golden cross necklace, decorative hair comb, Toothflossing Stringmints

Standing permission has been given to godmod @Simon Kincaid throughout.

Mentions @Shiawase Mamori

NOTICE: This episode does involve quite a bit of blood and maybe some ancient magic?

Not Tonight Love, I Have a Headache

XIIIJ

Colin looked around, away from the blood and the shattered, smashed doll. The crowd in the courtyard had thinned out. He looked down at himself. His black and green kilt was bloodied. He could feel the stickiness of it. His once white shirt was tattered and soaked in blood as well. Real Girl's. Lily's. His own. Three bloods, now one blood. Real Girl had bitten and rent Lily's flesh, had drunk Lily's blood, stolen her life away. Colin had bitten and torn Real Girl's flesh, had drunk her blood. And now her life was taken away.

Colin nodded slowly. Deep inside him, he knew that was right. It was just. No, not in the absolute sense of what is truly Right and Just; but in the way of the world, yes, it was right. Colin shook his head slightly, then tried to rub the blood off his hands. It wouldn't rub off. His clothes were soaked. Colin got into a kneeling position and fumbled in the pockets of his kilt. Things spilled out.

His wand. Lily's wand. A grey hagstone on a leather thong. A piece of coiled up cord. An antler tip. All tumbled rattling to the stone floor.

Tears fell from Colin's eyes. He feared that when he went into the hospital wing later, Lily would be dead. The same way Liam was dead. His fingers fumbled with the remaining buttons of his shirt. He tore that off and threw it away. He took off his kilt. It slapped wetly when he cast that aside. Colin was left wearing a pair of cut off jeans. He gathered up the hagstone and the antler tip and the cord and shoved those in his pocket. The wands clacked in his left hand as he picked those up.

Standing unsteadily, Colin looked around. He wondered where Clair was. He walked away from the scene of battle. His right arm and his chest felt warm. He looked down. He was bleeding. Pretty badly. His chest felt like he'd been sat on. He had trouble taking a deep breath. He saw a girl nearby. Not Clair, whom he sought. But the girl he needed right now. He knew who she was. His mind replayed the time, last spring, when she was the Queen of Candyland.

He stumbled towards her, blood dripping from him. As she came closer, Colin could see the look in Ileen's eyes. He --- understood. Somehow, deep in his heart, he knew that a few people had seen this look in his own eyes. Perhaps she saw someone that was both here and not here at the same time. Perhaps her feet trod both this place and a place elsewhere. He didn't know who she was seeing, and he spoke no word. A spell such as this should run its course, Colin reckoned. Had he not seen Clair, and Jarael before, in this way? Had his feet not trodden the elsewhere with them?

Ileen took his arm gently in her hands. He felt the warmth of her; heard the drops of blood plash onto the stone below. Ileen's eyes, too, were filled with tears. Colin's heart was moved by them. He felt certain that her tears were for another. The one she was seeing who was not him. Had he fought? Colin wondered. Had he bled in some dire battle? Had he died, or had she healed him?

Colin felt the magic course through his wounds as Ileen's wand touched his chest, his back, his arms, his leg, his belly. Everywhere she touched, magic drew the flesh together and healed the wounds. Colin's eyes gazed upon Ileen as she worked. She was really good at this. He became really curious to learn how to do this himself one day --- he reckoned that a werewolf who fancied a life dealing with magical creatures ought to know some healing magic!

He smirked, considered at all the cool scars he would soon have to intertwine with his wolfy scars and his racing scars! As she finished with him, he looked into her eyes, still teary. He stepped back to admire her work. He nodded in satisfaction. He looked up at Ileen again, and Colin smiled. The spell was broken and the girl before him was Ileen again. Just Ileen, standing before him. Whoever the other person was, the one she was seeing, was gone.

She wiped away her tears and asked if he was okay, saying he should go off to the hospital wing. Colin said: "Wicked! I want to learn how to do that! Thanks milady!" Colin turned as Ileen went off to check on the others. He felt tired, but no longer in much pain, and no longer bleeding! He now wanted to find Clair!

And perhaps nick one of the table cloths so he could wear it as a kilt.

Colin looked around at the devastation. There were still some kids around, he saw. Some were dancing, oblivious to the mayhem perhaps; others seemed to be off on a completely different adventure of their own; and there were still the sounds coming from the petting zoo, so people were clearly around.

He padded over towards the ruins of the snacks table. He found a juice and icing stained tablecloth crumpled on the ground. He folded it and wrapped it around his narrow waist. He wrapped it a couple more times, because it was pretty long! Satisfied with the feel of the material and the fit, Colin looked around the place again. Small motions caught his attention.

Yellow hair and a pale blue dress spilled to the floor. A piece of stone, bloodied, lay nearby. Though Colin could not see her face, he knew very well who the hair and the dress belonged to! "Fyre Angel!" Colin cried as he hurtled towards where his friend had collapsed. "FYRE ANGEL!!" She didn't hear him! He shook her. She wasn't moving! There was blood in his best friend's hair! Colin looked around them. No one was nearby. Ileen was now nowhere to be seen.

Colin tore off a long strip of relatively clean table cloth. He chided himself for not using magic, as that would have been much quicker. He knew the spell, it just didn't always come to him in the moment that he knew he could do things that way! "Well, nothing for it lad! Let's get her to hospital!" Colin carefully wrapped the cloth around AngelFyre's head. He looked around to see if she'd dropped anything.

He let out a quick puff of breath, then leaned over his friend and scooped her up into his arms. She wasn't heavy or anything. AngelFyre's head leaned against his left shoulder as he left the courtyard and the ball behind. He smirked as he headed back into the castle. "There's one thing I know lass! I'm sure going to ask Clair to the next ball a whole lot sooner!"

Colin leaves the ball with AngelFyre.

Interactions: @Ileen Knight | @AngelFyre McCubbin || Mentions: @Clair Fernandez | @Lily Brown

Moderated Action: None. @Piérre Marchonné | @Aurelia Notresvace

Inventory: Colin's Wand; Lily Brown's Wand; miscellaneous bits of this and that in his pockets, revealed to be a hag stone, some string, and an antler tip.
Stamina: 6 | Evasion: 6 | Strength: 4 | Wisdom: 7 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 6
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