The Enchanted Maze Spring Ball '23

english | russian

Hre eyes sparkled in delight as her friend accepted her dare. It would be a lot of fun to gallop around the banquet and play knight and horse. "You’re on. And then…." She leaned in with a meaningful grin. "We switch and I’ll be your horse."

Their dynamic seemed to be on a different level of seriousness which got even more clear when they heard the calling for help. Amina giggled at Slava’s joking remark and shot him a glance full of warmth and love. He really got her and not that she was never not herself, but with him she always felt comfortable to her very soul. She playfully nudged him in the side and then approached the hedge. Questions over questions. Which magical plant could talk? She was stumped.
With a shrug, she stroked the leaves. "I don't know. But they've been talking all along" The leaves had seemed to point in one direction, whispering, ’This way’.
Somewhat disappointed, she turned to Slava, and shrugged once more. "Maybe this has been the place to go all along, and we should just follow them?" She suggested, turning to the rest of the group with a questioning look.

Inside her, she felt the joyful thrill of the adventure, just when it had started to get boring. But it was extinguished when her eyes fell on the group of what she had named in her head, the oath keepers. She had been too busy goofing around with Slava to care about what was happening right under her nose. Valentin seemed to be crying, involved in a heated discussion with the samurai and Romeo.
Her heart contracted when she saw her captain so upset and obviously hurt. She may not have been very sensitive to such things, but she cared deeply about the well-being of her friends, and in this case it didn't take a genius to see what was going on.
She had already taken a step towards the group. Unusually restrained, she watched the spectacle as if spellbound, unable to avert her eyes. It was as if the three were in another world, in their own world. Amina's medicine was always to fool around, but even she instinctively felt that this was not the right moment. The intensity of emotions that were exchanged were alien to her. None of this she had ever experienced.
Although she felt like a spy, an intruder in this intimate situation, she could not turn away or stop listening. The louder voices pounded on the girl, who suddenly felt so out of place. She would have loved to run in and hug Valentin, but she couldn't do that. This... this was none of her business. It was like a force of nature unfolding before her eyes.

Her bright green eyes followed them like a fast quaffle pass. Back and forth and back and forth. And suddenly the penny dropped for her, too. She hadn't understood some of the context, but one thing was suddenly clear. A possibility she had never considered. Her eyes grew round like galleons and her mouth opened slightly. Valentin and Romeo? For a moment, she was too confused to realize what that meant. But she got the essence. In that case her comment earlier must really have been anything but funny.
With belated embarrassment, she blushed, but her heart tightened further when she saw Romeo's reaction.
Amina had no idea what love felt like. For her, it was an abstract concept that was not yet accessible to her. At least not that kind of love. But even abstract concepts had rules that she firmly believed in.
She couldn't protect Valentin, and what she said was more of a statement than a defense. She would have said it in a normal discussion as well. Her green eyes shone brightly as she cautiously took a few steps closer. The need to help and the simultaneous powerlessness made her look as serious as her friends had probably never seen her.
She looked at Romeo. "Love is love." She said simply, tilting her head thoughtfully. "It makes no sense not to believe in something that is there. And shouldn't a God who celebrates mercy approve of love? There is no such thing as wrong love." unusual wise words for Amina. She was not referring to what was going on between Romeo and Valentine. She had no idea what was actually happening and had only understood on a meta level what the basic conflict was.
It wasn't the start of a discussion, just a statement she had learned in her very tolerant home. As long as you had something positive in you that didn't hurt anyone, you should celebrate it. No matter what it was. The tone of voice and the simplicity with which she presented her case made that quite clear.

She took another step closer, as if she was approaching a wounded animal. She wanted to do something to make him stop hurting although she didn’t know what.
Slava seemed to have a similar approach and as she casted a look at him he looked quite similar to how she felt. But he announced his arrival and wrapped his arms around the frost captain.
This had broken the spell and Amina would take a quick step to pile onto that hug, making it a hug sandwich (if the writers allow it). What was out there that a hug couldn’t fix? She quickly let go though because a small voice told her to.
As her partner in crime presented his thoughts she stood next to him and nodded along. Then, before she also turned around, she laid a hand on Val’s shoulder to support herself as she leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek (you can also dodge that). Her eyes sparkled with warmth and affection as she looked into the violet eyes and a soft smile curled the corners of her mouth. "I will always love you, Vayla. You are my best friend." She probably didn’t have the right words but she still hoped he knew what she meant.

Then she turned around as Slava approached her. Her smile deepend and relief took the load from her chest. Yes, she would love to go. This situation made her highly uncomfortable, she did everything in her power and history told her from now on she would probably make it worse. So she gave her friend a daring smile. "You are right. Let’s go and find some knights to fight. Let me say goodbye!"
Dramatically she spun around and bowed to the crowd, especially to the new faces Mayla and Ginyami. "It’s been a pleasure. I hope I will see you at the banquet!" She also looked at Romeo and bit down the words that were on her tongue. I kissed him, you don’t know what you’re missing, lad. But she respected Romeo and she knew that there would be a moment where she could bring that up where it was funny and not hurtful.

Interacting | Valentin (@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood) | Slava (@Ruby Cazares) | Romeo (@Piérre Marchonné) | Maila (@Beatrice Dupont) | Ginyami (@Jack Burnett)

open to interactions

Action | Making a hug-sandwich with Slava

Ability | Muggle Condition | Fearless | Foulplay | Lovely Creature

Allies for LC | noone ~ everyone may admire her =P You can decide from an RP perspective how much the ability affects you

Stats | Sta:9 | Ev:15 | Str:7 | Wis:7 | Arc:2 | Acc:15

¤ 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 ¤

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide. Durmstrang Institute's

Romeo Giovanni Marchonné [6'6" | 198lbs]

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

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

Valentin Schnell, Ginyami Midorimori, Maila Aurora Laine, Slava Preobrazhensky & Amina Petrovic
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood, @Jack Burnett,@Beatrice Dupont, @Ruby Cazares & @Ileen Knight

I couldn’t respond fully to Amina’s words. Of course I knew such things. I knew them well, and I had asked myself that very thing several times and agonized over it for so many nights. Surely, if there was a good and gracious and loving and understanding greatest being the likes of God, then surely love would be the most precious thing to him. Surely… surely… Such words ran through me on a daily basis, causing me to question myself over and over again; to the point that I often did not have a good enough argument or a good enough rebuttal to the question at the end of it other than its most simple fact and teachings. I knew. I so very, very much knew… and I knew the costs; I knew the trials I faced, no matter how I felt…

What I wanted, and what I could have…

Valentin's laughter rang in both my ears as I kept my grip firm, gazing at him narrowly as I refused to let him pull away or to let him twist himself out of my grasp. My face, as it usually was when concerning any member of my team that I needed to make something serious to, was furrow-browed and did not betray any emotion that I could outwardly control. He tried, he really did, he tried to pull away from me and to let the wand continue to smolder. If he continued doing this, if he didn't let some level of arcana through, the wand would likely die.

Either violently, or with a whisper from the stress; no matter how strong the core was. These were the sorts of things that I as an aspiring Wandmaker analyzed and came to terms with in the way of craftsmanship and whittling of the wand-worthy woods and the implementing of their cores. They, like people, could wither or become overly ebullient. They were capable of joy, they were capable of grief; and they were most certainly able to die, and to die violently at that when combining the will of their wielder and the raw power that the core contained beholden to itself.

As Valentin curled around the wand, almost as if he was laying his head on my breast, I gently willed myself the ability to tug the implement from his grasp; never mind the heat and the potential of the overworked wand (was that smoke exuding from the wood...?) "Thank you, Val." I murmured to him as I rolled it from hand to hand to cool it off against the air and the conductor of my skin. Never mind the soot that was rubbing off on my hands.

Well... this was not how I had wanted my night to go... at all. Things could have ended very badly. Someone could have gotten hurt.

Being in this damnable shadowy maze certainly wasn't helping any of this either. Coming here, as I was realizing very quickly, had been a mistake. Just like all the other balls in which I had been in attendance, coming here had been a quite obvious error; one that I was stupid enough to keep repeating over and over again despite knowing the consequences. I just kept coming back for more, perhaps thinking things would change if I never changed my actions in turn.

Quite the definition of insanity, of course, but what few options were left to me at this point.

All I could do was continue to look down at Valentin, gently cooling the implement as my gaze flickered around to everyone else. There was nothing much left to say here. There was only silence, and oh how eloquently Silence spoke in the languages of the continued noises of night and that of conversations throughout the maze whose specific words were inaudible. Chattering like starlings, buzzing like crickets; buzzing like the light hum in both ears.

Though neither of us were speaking, I could only assume what both of us were thinking inside;

'I believe my personal indulgence of the festivities are over.'

Action: Keeping His Mouth Shut

Reducio

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 8 | Strength 15 Ω
Ω Accuracy 15 | Wisdom 9 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

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

Inventory:

Ω Holstered [Redacted] Wand | Medicine Notebook | Enchanted Lantern Ω
Ω Peacetied Italian Longsword | Duro'd Roman Scutum Ω

Catching Ye-jun's brief look of surprise, Jack was worried for a moment he might have said something wrong until it was followed by a grateful smile. He returned it with a smile of his own that grew into a grin when the Korean boy whispered he wasn't always polite. "Then by all means, please feel free to speak your mind with this one. Merlin knows he does the same to everyone else," he said, jabbing a thumb back at Hanako.

Hanako's playful wink, intimate insinuations, and flirtatious words earned an incredulous smirk from Jack, concealing his true discomfort at the behavior. "Oh, please. You and I both know the only reason you would ever be interested in me is if someone slipped you another dose of amortentia and you just happened to look in my direction." At least with his attention on Jack, Hanako had given Ye-jun a small break from his unwanted attention.

When the Japanese boy declared he would accompany his peers either for as long as he decided they were close enough to the middle of the maze or when he started getting bored, Jack chuckled. "Suit yourself." He was fairly certain the latter would happen before the former. Maybe he and Ye-jun could even help it along. Ye-jun's comment that he could come up with at least one other purpose they could use the torch for caused the jester to laugh aloud. At least he didn't have to worry about Hanako completely ruining their night when Ye-jun was being such a good sport about it.

"Maybe you are," Jack answered when Hanako reminded him he was a very capable duelist, "But duels are regulated with rules. It's not the same as being in a real dangerous situation." He looked thoughtful at being asked if it was really surprising that he might just genuinely want to hang out with him and Ye-jun. "...Yes, actually. I don't know who fancies being an uninvited third wheel unless they absolutely have no other choice." Or, he supposed, unless they took pleasure in annoying the couple they accompanied, which he guessed could have been the case with his obnoxious dormmate. Actually, it was probably the actual reason, come to think of it.

He shook his head when Hanako stated he would give Ye-jun a break only because he was the one asking, wondering how long he was going to have to endure such teasing. It was secretly driving him crazy, but fortunately his reddened complexion was hard to make out against the red light of his fire-lit torch. Ye-jun must have had to endure such flirting all the time, he told himself. If Ye-jun had to endure it, couldn't he? Besides, he knew Hanako wasn't being serious. There was no real reason to get flustered and bashful over it. He might not have gotten into such a state, either, if Ye-jun hadn't been there to hear and witness all of it. If he asked Hanako to cut it out, though, he knew the snake would only be inclined to do it more, so he kept his mouth shut on the matter.

"Don't make me set your hair on fire," he warned when Hanako called him 'lover boy', but started on the path just the same. Of course it wasn't long before Hanako piped up with some new irksome thing to say. This time it was him asking about Jack's and Ye-jun's 'love story'. Jack almost dropped his torch.

He cast his fellow Slytherin a scathing look over his shoulder. "That's the kind of question that would cost you a token of mine to get an answer for," he told him, getting over his shock that Hanako had had the audacity to ask such a thing at all. "You want to give up that token I gave you? Be my guest." He wasn't sure Ye-jun would have wanted him divulging that information anyway, particularly to a guy like Hanako. Ye-jun hadn't seemed to find the question fit to answer himself either, after all, so why should Jack? He threw the Beauxbatons student another apologetic look.

Along their path, they eventually came to what seemed to be a flower that bloomed in the light of the torch. Jack hesitated, wary of the blossom and wondering if the ones who set up the event had purposely placed it there. As he began to remember where he had seen it before, though, and what its blooming meant, he took a step back and turned to Ye-jun who he was still arm-locked with.

"Hyung, I think we better hold our breath or we might get dizzy. I can't tell if they're pink in this light, but these look like puffapods. Do you think you might be able to blow away the spores with a wind charm or something? I'd do it myself but my other hand is holding the torch."

HP: 600/600
Stats: STA 6 / EVA 9 / STR 3 / WIS 15 / ARC 9 / ACC 9
Abilities: Prodigal Charms / Binding Mark / Perfectionist / Perfectionist II
Action: N/A
Free Action(s): Talking with Ye-Jun and Hanako while traversing the maze
Interacting with: Ye-jun Lee (@Eun-ji Lee Hunt) & @Hanako Tone

Open to Interactions

Post Tracker: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

⦾ 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 ⦾

Valentin Schnell, Ginyami Midorimori, Maila Aurora Laine, Slava Preobrazhensky & Amina Petrovic
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood, @Jack Burnett,@Beatrice Dupont, @Ruby Cazares & @Ileen Knight

's Grace in Effect

Figaro was an excellent ground guide, though admittedly he was still a cat and it was forcing Piérre to be excessively patient in a way that he didn’t always enjoy. After all, a cat could only run so fast when it was pitch dark; this was especially considering the fact that the human that he was trying to guide did not have the same level of night vision as the feline did. If Piérre had had anywhere near the same amount of nocturnal aptitude as the cat did, such a venture would have been swift and painless.

As it was, Piérre was busy tripping over roots part of the time and then calling back Figaro at other points in time so that he didn’t lose his only guide to the tumultuous maze. It was a good thing that Figaro was by nature a patient beast, any other animal probably would have tried to get away as quickly as possible from the eccentric Italian with the gossamer wings that kept catching on the thorns and were slowly being shredded into itty bitty pieces.

Turning this corner and then that as he gallivanted through the maze at top speed, blood singing in his ears and heartbeat pounding through his chest (a fine sweat on his brow and a wide grin plastered on his face) as his feet soundlessly pitter pattered through the worst of the tangles, there was the shiny colors and the metal gleam of armor, but it was one that he recognized.

Oh yeah. That was Romeo’s voice for sure. Was he... trying to talk someone down?

Rushing past the source of the noise, where he did see a collection of the same people that he had noted earlier when he had been on his way to the banquet first thing, Piérre crouched and took cover in the shadows at the edges of the maze. While he did not have eyes that were accustomed to the darkness, he did happen to have keen eyes in general, so he was able to make out the roughest outlines of what was happening.

There was a lot of movement in general; most of the crowd appeared to be boys save for a young girl and another fiery redhead that Piérre remembered kissing Valentin earlier. Speaking of Valentin… oh look how he and Romeo were so close together, seemingly huddled around something? Were they telling juicy secrets, even in the midst of their companions? Oh how interesting…

What had happened here, Piérre wondered with only the most innocent of intents in his mind? Surely nothing too spicy, he hoped. Man, it would have been such a shame that a ‘gossip’ such as him had missed out on any level of tomfoolery. Far be it from him to try and cause such tomfoolery, he was certainly innocent when it came to that sort of thing, but he was most certainly a sucker for being the wingman. Call it a nasty habit of his, but it had been a trait of his ever since he had been a young second year… and well… it had never fully worked its way out of his system entirely.

Oh but it was fun to watch this competitor–Ginyami–interfacing with the rest of the crew here, how interesting it was to observe his brother and Valentin, and how fun to watch everyone else scampering about and frolicking like a bunch of ants running away from a magnifying glass. Man… He must have really missed some fun stuff during his brief absence.

Humming lightly to himself as he tipped his head, the boy couldn’t help but feel his fingers trail to the satchel at his side as he slowly sifted past the loose cards in there and brushed up against the crystalline bottle that he had found in the banquet area. What was the thing it said again. Make someone else the fool?

Well, he wasn’t necessarily making others the fool… but if this was already a shit show, why not infuse a little more chaos into it. Nothing brought people together more than a bigger disaster, right? This would be the sort of things that they talked about at class reunions, surely… so… it was surely up to Piérre to make this thing memorable, right? Memorable for his brother, memorable for Ginyami, maybe memorable for Valentin if he was aware enough to know what was going on, and certainly memorable for himself, his cat, and the poor bystanders that he didn’t know enough about to apologize to.

But since when had Piérre ever taken it upon himself to apologize for anything that he did?

He had tried his best to identify the potion before picking it up; the sulfurous yellow in it and the fact that it had been sealed extremely tight immediately told him that it was likely some sort of gaseous potion. What it would do Piérre had no idea… but he was sure about to find out.

Why yes, just like the last ball where he had thrown a Garotting Gas potion into the fray, this time he was throwing whatever this new phial was into the fray be it for good or for ill. For good, wahoo! For ill, ha-HA!

Kissing the phial for good luck as Figaro curled about his shoulders once again, Piérre tossed the crystalline container in one hand as he tried to line up his shots in the dark. In the end, he was aiming for those most faint fragments of refracted light; particularly off the skin of Valentin himself, the gleaming Roman armor of his brother, and any Lumos that he could take in. If there was no light to be seen, he instead focused his sights on the ground, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, and then used his other senses (particularly that preternatural sensation of detecting movement) and would try to throw the phial towards the area that appeared to reveal the highest density of movement.

Bombs away! YEET!

Action: Yeet Turbo Farts Potion Towards Valentin’s Party & Trying to Get as Many in Range as Possible
Beast Master: Being a Stole

Reducio

Statistics:

Stamina 7 | Strength 5 | Evasion 15
Wisdom 10 | Accuracy 14 | ArcPower 5

Abilities:

Keen Eye | Calming Presence | Beast Master (Cat) | 's Grace

Inventory:

Holstered Yew and Snallygaster Wand | Deck of Playing Cards | Figaro | Mandolin
Locksmith's Knife | Gentleman's Slapping Gloves
1 Firebreathing Potion | 1 Turbo Farts Potion

Interacting with @Rhys Read, as Zendra Blanchet

At last-- the exit. The maze had gotten them lost on purpose, pushed them towards each other and now, now that they were together, it was letting them go free. She would say it was almost like fate, if Zendra believed in the notion. But she didn't. How could she, when time and time again, things that seemed like 'fate' failed her? How could she, with her parents divorced, her mom constantly in a state of I-love-yous or do-betters, and her dad somewhere in godforsaken Canada? For goodness sakes, she barely heard from him, except for on her birthday and at Christmas. And during those times, Zendra's mom practically despised her. Why are you choosing your father, she'd hiss, you know he's just going to stab you in the back. And no, Zendra wouldn't argue back. She’d just dip her head, accepting her lot in life as she'd always had. So, she reasoned, if fate was real, it was certainly doing a shitty job by her. But maybe, maybe this was the exception. Maybe Achille was the exception.

She could only hope.

As he pulled her along, Zendra tingled at the squeeze of his fingers. So warm, firm, kind... If she could, she would bottle the feeling and sell out overnight. No-- scratch that. She wouldn't sell her bottle; she would keep it, and share her secret with no one. Zendra wondered if the many people at going to these balls were having the same experience. Not line by line-- just the feeling. Was it as exhilarating for them? As daring? Or was it a boring, usual, regular run-of-the-mill event? She hoped it was the former. But, then again, how could it not be? A twisted maze with a weird sense of humour was the entrance after all, and who knew what lay beyond it. A banquet, it was said, but that was vague at best. However, Zendra would soon know. They were so close, and as they passed through, she let out a breath of relief.

They'd made it.

340 words. #44505f

Actions: Exiting maze with Achille

To the immense surprise of the omnipotent presence writing June, the small, angry second-year picked a flower from the bush, hurling it mercilessly to the ground. With an unwavering determination, she proceeded to forcefully grind the once-vibrant petals into the unforgiving earth beneath her shoe, all without the faintest hint of consequence.

Congratulations June, you live another day. For now.

June watched as the petals were torn asunder under at the force she was applying, watching as the colourful flower became tainted with dirt and dust. Mid-foliage destruction, movement out of the corner of June's eye prompted her to look up, meeting the eye of a tall, unfamiliar student. June froze for a moment, partially out of embarrassment and partially because she'd never seen a gaze quite like his before.

Fear was not her immediate reaction; rather, it was an insatiable curiosity that overcame her. She subjected the desecrated flower to one final, deliberate stomp while steadfastly holding the gaze of the enigmatic stranger. Only then did she gradually lift her foot, a sense of reluctance mingled with the need to explain herself. "I, um.. Sorry, it's just been a rough day."

She sighed internally as she dismissed her distress as a mere "rough day." In truth, it had been an unrelenting week, an unforgiving year. Hopefully this student wasn't going to berate June for flower murder.

Action: Stomping the flower (because apparently she could pick it without a problem)

For as long as Astrea had schooled at Hogwarts, which paled in direct comparison to the lethal history of the castle, there has been a collective sense of delusion. Deliberate selective memory was undeniable, knowingly fooling oneself into a false sense of self-directional security. It was a wonder that she, and many of her fellow upper-classmen, had remained in staunch attendance.

In the Slytherin’s extracurricular experience, only one fact remained unchanged: true safety occurred for her only in death and anonymity. The former of which was a lost cause, unfortunately tarnished in the face of magic's reanimation of souls. The latter she had achieved only in base peerage, too deeply embedded into the fabric of her family's lineage to be divorced from higher society in the same fashion she enjoyed at Hogwarts. An unconnected pureblood was little more than weighted disgrace, and, while she was not seeking to dig an early grave — not even reputationally —, Hogwarts' supplementary community could not compare to that of the larger wizarding world.

In short: No, Astrea had deigned not to attend any unnecessary school events since the fall of her relationship. Even before then, her appearances had been sporadic at best. She had once visited each ball with a vague and almost childishly foolish desire for understanding, as if repeated exposure could achieve anything but reinforce the unshakable constant. Lingering just long enough for trouble to begin brewing before slipping off, there had been a singular exception to this perpetuation of self-preservation. Even so, that retrospective instance had been borne out of unexpected ally-based obligation rather than true choice. Perhaps a lack of companionship was the culprit to her increasingly chronic absenteeism.

For this matter alone, this ball was not to be the same. Rather peculiarly, Astrea had somehow garnered the intriguing, if not a fair amount flattering, interest of a certain Ruby Cazares. In some distant manner, Astrea had always held a semblance of greatly estranged respect for the other, yet their scarcely overlapping social circles (if one could be found to begin with) had never drawn them closer until recently. Her fellow year mate held neither intimidation nor lingering apprehension — both factors that often strained direct attention and discouraged conversation like no other. Astrea could not loathe such long-pursued isolationism — quite the opposite — but this singular reputation only served to draw significance to Ruby’s seeming indifference.

Her year mate had always been an enigma, so alike in every way except where it counted. Where Astrea held her tongue in expressly disapproving glances, Ruby's waspish temper was not nearly as muted. In some sense, there could easily be further similarities drawn between such other fellow purebloods, their former captain included, but even shallow comparison failed to properly address the peculiar curiosity of their acquaintanceship. How strange it was, then, for Astrea to have enjoyed a generally amiable (granted, somewhat uncharacteristic) relationship with the other. Buoyed wholly by snippets of interaction held between the folds of daily life, there was little allowance for the veils of misunderstanding and discourtesy that often affected her scarce bouts of affiliation. It was near classical in its budding nature, culminating firstly in a straightforward invitation to the Spring Ball.

In truth, Astrea had believed the other entirely too clever to bother with such danger, especially the predictably eventful kind that accompanied any large event hosted at the Scottish school of magic. Surely, the two received their fair share of formal mingling amongst their respective pureblood circles away from Hogwarts' halls. But Ruby was evidently talented, suitably dedicated to her work and possessed a good head upon their shoulders, so it was no heavy matter to graciously accept the other's unexpected offer and meet amongst the courtyard's foliage.

With spring settling into Scotland's bones, the castle’s surroundings had been suitably decorated to reflect this change of seasons. Both the courtyard, whose semi-enclosed surroundings remained perfumed in all manner, and the grounds were of equal floral extravagance, only adding to the facade of a good night out. Ruby's comments were correct, yet even the ever-lingering grimness clinging to the very fabric of their gowns could not deter them. Ruby’s unobtrusive invitations, in their manner of softening her stoic demeanour, would remain as a constant pillar of support throughout their activities. They could only go further now, this deep into inadvisable indulgence. “Quite the attraction, indeed. It seems that even inevitable danger must be honeyed.” There would need to be little patience for hesitance’s follies in addressing what they were bound to face. Astrea trusted in their capability and strategical adaptation, considering them well-cultured in the art of civilized violence. This conviction expressed itself in but a genteel acquiescence, before the pair swept into the mouth of the lion's den.

Action: Entering Maze

Mod Information

Reducio

Free Actions: Contemplating her existence

Abilities: Terrible Presence, Lovely Creature, Spell Spread, Non-Human Enthusiast, Perfectionist I
Stats: Sta 8 | Eva 12 | Str 2 | Wis 12 | Arc 10 | Acc 15

Allies: Ruby Cazares, Viridian Vipers

Outfit Reference: TBD

The creature let out an inhuman shriek and cringed away from the light shining from Rebecca's wand. He leapt towards the fallen girl it had attached itself to and took the opening to grab her and pull her away from the foul thing. It's horrible spindly form was laid bare under the wandlight, with a twisted face and long limbs that twitched and dragged. It was horribly similar to that girl, but wrong, someone's shadow turned into a nightmare.

"Get out of here!" he advised, shoving her behind him and back towards the path he'd come from, but all the while he couldn't take his eyes off of the Shadow. It's earlier screams must have alterted someone... Unless the maze is more soundproofed than I thought, came the horrible thought, but there was no point in dwelling on it further. At the very least the girl could get away and call for help, if she had any sense.

The other boy accompanying her was frozen, presumably from fear. "Either help me or go and get someone who can!" Rebecca snapped, completely forgoing his usual friendly manner, and pushed him towards safety as well.

The momentary advantage of surprise was quickly waning, and it wouldn't be long before it would overcome its aversion to his lone wandlight. Rebecca had only seconds to consider his next move. Loathe as he was to put out his lumos, it seemed a frail barrier on par with a more offensive spell. Who knows how long it would take before an adult would reach them? But none of the spells he knew seemed as if they would do him any good in this situation. A sneezing hex??? Curse of the Bogies??? So many nose-related jinxes and Rebecca wasn't sure this thing had a nose.

He decided quickly, and pointed his wand to the starry night sky. Hogwart's Defense Against the Dark Arts class might have failed to teach him how to defeat a Living Shadow, but it had drilled into him what to do if ever faced with unreasonable danger.

"Periculum!" Rebecca shouted, hoping to send his bright red sparks high above the walls of the hedgemaze for anyone to see. Red sparks to signal danger, he grimaced. With any luck, the flash of lights would be enough to dazzle the Shadow and drive it away before it could scuttle any closer.

Reducio ACTION: cast Red Spark Charm to signal for help and blind the Shadow, trying to cover/protect Lloyd and Angelique STA | 4 | EVA | 9 | STR | 2 | WIS | 6 | ARC | 7 | ACC | 7 ability: Charmer

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