L i t t l e S p a r k s
[Its not much at least for now! ]
Oliver :

Reducio

It was a rainy, cold night. It was late, most people were already asleep. Except for a couple of Ravenclaws, some sitting on couches while others on arm chairs. Oliver sat on the armchair closest to the fire, he needed some warmth. He was painting on his sketchpad, being very careful with the painting he was making. The perfect scene of his house and lake, his family sitting on one of the benches. He had only a few seconds to admire his work that he had made for hours on end before he knocked down the cup of water he was using all over his drawing! "God damn!-" he shouted under his voice, inaudible for the other Ravenclaws to hear. He flipped the page to see that the water had seeped through most of his art. He cursed under his breath, he had just wasted hours and hours of work on a small mistake. He got up, miserable, he turned, holding the wet art book in his hand. He wanted to sleep now, he was tired. But while walking towards his dormitory, someone slammed into him from his side, practically knocking him off course. Nearly causing him to drop his art materials. "Oi, watch where your going next time!" He said to the boy who looked older than him. It was really really late now, he should go to bed, but he didn't. He stood there, determined to get an answer from the boy.

L i t t l e S p a r k s
[Its not much at least for now! ]
Oliver :

Reducio

It was a rainy, cold night. It was late, most people were already asleep. Except for a couple of Ravenclaws, some sitting on couches while others on arm chairs. Oliver sat on the armchair closest to the fire, he needed some warmth. He was painting on his sketchpad, being very careful with the painting he was making. The perfect scene of his house and lake, his family sitting on one of the benches. He had only a few seconds to admire his work that he had made for hours on end before he knocked down the cup of water he was using all over his drawing! "God damn!-" he shouted under his voice, inaudible for the other Ravenclaws to hear. He flipped the page to see that the water had seeped through most of his art. He cursed under his breath, he had just wasted hours and hours of work on a small mistake. He got up, miserable, he turned, holding the wet art book in his hand. He wanted to sleep now, he was tired. But while walking towards his dormitory, someone slammed into him from his side, practically knocking him off course. Nearly causing him to drop his art materials. "Oi, watch where your going next time!" He said to the boy who looked older than him. It was really really late now, he should go to bed, but he didn't. He stood there, determined to get an answer from the boy.

Damion White :

Reducio

With everything going haywire with the duel he had just witnessed between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff with Kim Sato on the Gryffindor Team and Hades Schweighöfer on the Hufflepuff team. He was torn during the match with one to support. Hades is his close friend. and Kim is his boyfriend. Or well.... so he thinks. Anyways, he was upset with how the match had ended. He was pissed and was walking back to the common room in a grumpy mood. He was not seeing where he was going. He was sort of lost in his own mind.

He heard someone talking to him. "You don't want to get into that with me right now" He said. Without thinking much, which might have been the problem he took out his wand and cast a spell on the younger boy. "Flipendo" He had tears in his eyes and was seething with anger. He was not in his right mind to say the least. He was driven by anger and was not thinking straight. A part of him wished that he had not attacked the younger boy who he knew as Oliver. He had gone ice skating with the young Ravenclaw. He was not this sort of person but the duel that he had witnessed had made him very angry and emotional.

Oliver :

Reducio

In annoyance, and over all being in such a bad mood, he had spoken back at the fourth year, who he now recognized as Damion White, the boy who he had gone skating with. "You don't want to get into that right now." Damion had said to him. Before Oliver could respond however, he noticed as Damions hand reached for his wand, naturally, Oliver reached for his wand too, however he was too slow, "Flipendo!" Said who he thought was his friend. "Oh Shit!!" He screamed as he was thrown into the air by the force of the spell that the fellow Ravenclaw had casted on him. A feeling of shock hit him, the next thing he felt was a stinging pain in the back of his head and the sound of shattering glass. It turns out the force of the spell had caused his head to smash into the window. He fell to the ground with a loud Thud landing on his shoulder sideways. Little shards fell all over him, he groaned in pain as he slowly reached behind his head, pulling out his hand that was now bloodied. "Bloody hell-" he said with a pained and weak voice with a slight look at Damion. Tears were now streaming from his eyes, the pain was nothing that he had felt before. He closed his eyes as. Droplets of blood fell onto the floor and some streamed down his face.

Charlie Jacobsen :

Reducio

It was a rainy night, and I was curled up in a big blanket on one of the navy couches in the common room. I had my cat Zara in my lap, who was sleeping. Just then, I saw sparks. From behind the bookshelf. I jumped up, knocking Zara off my lap, who was scared, and ran under one of the nearby chairs. I ran over to where I saw the sparks.

Of course it wasn’t someone practicing spells. Oliver had blood on him. No. I looked at the older boy. I had no idea who he was. I stood there trying to decide who to help. I should grab the boy. I have to stop him before he hurts someone else. I thought. “HELP!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “SOME ONE HELP OLIVER!” I yelled again.

I went over to the boy, and grabbed his wand and threw it on the ground. Not too hard that it would break, but also hard enough that it was partially across the room. No more hurting anyone. “Are you out of your damn mind!” I practically yelled. “What the actual hell!” I screamed.

I grabbed the boy’s wrists. No getting anyone. I stared in his eyes. “Why why why why.”

L i t t l e S p a r k s (Contd..)

Damion White :

Reducio

What had gotten into Damion? Damion was not this type of a boy. He wouldn't hurt someone. let alone a first year student with whom he had gone ice skating not very long ago. He sighed as he watched the effects of his spell casting. Damion sighed and was about to go near Oliver to help him out but he was stopped by one of the other students.

Before Damion could do anything to help Oliver out, his hand was held by Charlie. Damion was now really really pissed off. He pushed Charlie away, hoping she wouldn't fall down and hurt herself like Oliver. But he had to get his wand back. Picking his wand up, he pointed it towards Charlie, "Back off little one. You know what I am capable of." He said threateningly. He was not sure what had gotten into him lately. But he was not this type of a person.

Still having his wand pointed at Charlie, he looked at her and then at Oliver. "I'm sorry Oliver" He thought but couldn't get himself to say these words. The anger inside him was boiling and he was not sure what he could do about it. He was not this type of boy. Damion kept looking at Charlie as he crept away from the two Ravenclaws. He didn't want to be around them anymore for many reasons. One was guilt. He was feeling extremely guilty for hurting Oliver, the younger boy. He was not this type of a person. What had gotten into him?

He didn't want to take any chances about getting grabbed again by Charlie or by someone else. "Flipendo" He said hoping that the spell would hit the younger girl. He was not concerned about anything else except wanting to get away from here. This was going to be a burden for him. The guilt of what he had done would wreck him for a while. "Stay away from me." He said before walking away from the two younger Ravenclaws.

Pandora Smith:

Reducio

There's nothing like reading in the dorm in the rainy weather, Pandora thought. She was not sleepy. She got up with a voice. Someone was shouting. She quickly took her wand. She quickly went to the common room.

Entering the common room, she heard another spell being cast. She saw Oliver and Damion standing by the window. Then his eye went to another girl. She had fallen too. Thinking that she had used the spell on her too, his blood splattered into her brain. It was clear in Damion's eyes that he didn't want to be here. did he do this. She was upset. That's why she got a little out of control. She approached Damiona and pushed his hard.

She didn't regret doing this

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? WHY DID YOU DO THIS? "

She went to the other girl. Never seen this girl. She spoke in the same worried voice."So are you okay? Do you need help? You want to go to the Hospital Wing? No broken, right?" Helped the girl get up too

Her sharp teeth were showing. She was breathing fast. She quickly walked over to Oliver.
She tried to help him stand up calmly.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you want us to go to the Hospital Wing? No broken, right? Too bad"

Finley Alekhin:

Reducio

Finley tossed and turned in her bed, unable to get to sleep that night. She had just about given up on getting any rest when she heard a scream from the common room. Not one of a fellow student having fun or being excited. One of pain. Part of her wanted to just ignore it and pretend that she hadn’t heard it. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure she had. It was very late and she was very tired and she did have a tendency towards these sorts of things. But if it was a fellow student in some sort of trouble then she wanted to help.

She reached the common room with her wand in hand just in time to see a boy she recognized as a fourth year cast a spell on a much younger student. “What on earth are you doing? You’re going to hurt them!” She yelled running towards the boy and girl on the ground. With her father being a doctor, he had always insisted that she learn basic first aid in case she ever needed it. Without really thinking of the consequences she raised her wand towards the older Ravenclaw. “Incendio!” A very stupid decision indeed but it was done and she needed to focus on making sure the younger Ravenclaw, whose name she now knew as Oliver, was okay.

Damion White:

Reducio

Damion was trying to back off from the whole situation with Charlie and Oliver. He was not this type of a boy. He would not hurt someone like this. He was a caring young man. He wanted to move ahead and help Oliver who was bleeding now. Damn! What the hell had he done? Damion could feel tears whelming in his eyes. Before he could move ahead to help him, he heard another girl's voice. This voice he recognized. He had met Pandora a while back when he was trying to avoid his class.

Damion looked at her in complete and utter shock. He was not sure what he was going to do. But before he could point his wand at her and cast a spell or well do anything of that sort, he had felt her push his hand away. He frowned as he felt her push his hand. Damion was in a trance. Like frozen. He didn't know what to do.

Well it was not long after Pandora had entered the room, that another younger Ravenclaw entered and cast Incendio on him. He was not fast enough to avoid it. Blame his mind for thinking other things. His clothing caught on fire. He quickly cast the Extinguo spell to put it out and moved to a corner away from the people that were coming in. He didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. He had done enough already. He took a seat on the corner as he felt a tear roll down his face. He swiftly wiped it away before anyone else could even notice that it was there.

Charlie Jacobsen:

Reducio

Damion was kind of scary. I had no clue what the hell had gotten in to him. I hadn’t met him before, but if he was always in this mood he would have not been sorted in to Ravenclaw, the house of the wise.

Damion shoved me back, and I stumbled back, trying not to fall on Oliver. And trying not to get the same fate as him. “HELP!!! SOMEONE GET A TEACHER OR A PREFECT!!” I yelled. Damion told me to back off, which I would have, but he had his wand. And there were other girls who did not deserve this fate. I had threw his wand on the ground. I also made sure I was far enough from the wall that I wouldn’t hit my head. I was about to run out of there and find a prefect or someone, but of course, Damion Flipendoed me.

I fell to the ground, and felt a sharp stinging pain. I was not unconscious like Oliver so when one of the girls asked if I was ok, I kind of blew up. “Are you stupid!? One of you go find a teacher or a prefect and help Oliver. Get him away from the broken window and glass. But be careful.” I whispered, because the pain was strong. “I guess I should go to the hospital wing, but you’ll need a teacher to carry us.” I said.

Bailey Glade:

Reducio

Bailey was in her bed. Wrapped in a cosy robe, a gift from one of her friends from home, she was reading in her bed with twinkle on her lap, bailey sipped her tea. She had braided her hair already, and was ready for bed. She was having a restful evening, and it was turning into night when she heard a crash. There were some screams as well, and she kinda wanted to investigate. To Twinkle she said softly “should we go look? Do you want to see what’s going on?” twinkle blinked her big blue eye at bailey, and Bailey as still deciding when she heard a yell for help, for a professor or a prefect. Standing up Bailey grabbed her wand, slipped her feet into her slippers and made her way down to the common room.
Bailey spotted several of her friends- Damion, Oli, Charlie, and Pandora among other random Ravenclaw.
Bailey went over to them, Twinkle on her heels.
“What is going on?” Bailey asked, firmly and with authority. Was she a staff member? No. Was she older than the bunch of first years? Yes. She was older than everyone but Damion, and from the looks of it, he was the instigator of the issue.

Aurora Ranvier:

Reducio

It was just another normal night in the Ravenclaw tower, and she had spent most of it in her dorm room, writing in her brand new diary with Lucifur on her side, licking his own butt. That cat seemed to have no care for the world and Aurora aspired to be like that. Dear diary, she wrote using the greatest muggle invention ever, a pen. Her writing was squiggly, slightly unreadable, but that was what made it her writing. Some people would recognise her by her terrible handwriting. Why is Nicholas so cute?. If one would find and read her diary for blackmail, they'd die in cringe because the only information they would find was all about Nicholas. That same gryffindor boy who was in love with flannel, he could marry it in the future, probably.

Then she heard it, someone yelling something about getting a teacher or a prefect. Her mind wondered who it was, and why they were calling for assistance. Her assistance. Throughout her prefect career, things moved smoothly which was good for a change. But it was way smoother than she had imagined prior to getting the role. Aurora thought it would be all chaos and awesomeness but people seemed to obey the rules. While the situation was favourable, she still yearned for something more, something to challenge her and show off her prefect badge to people. As a former agent of chaos, she secretly hoped that the call for help was a sign of something big. Like an appearance of a shadow monster or something. Not that she would be brave enough to fight it, but it'd be an exciting tale to tell. And that night was the night.

As she stepped in the common room, eyes scanned the room, no shadow monster could be seen. Disappointing. Seven people were present, with one of them visibly hurt. Had a fight taken place before she arrived? Nothing new, wasn't it? She fought with tons of people before her prefect days, mostly with that ugly duck gremlin Violet Glarrington. Honestly, it was still a mystery why they accepted her application knowing her history of being a problem. It is possible that there weren't enough applicants that day, she wouldn't know.

“What’s with the ruckus? Don’t you guys know that it’s late?" Aurora tried to look intimidating, her eyes darting around the room, her hands balled in fists, and her legs spread apart. She was ready to smack anyone who dared to challenge her. Or better yet, put them in detention. HER FIRST POSSIBLE DETENTION VICTIMS! "A prefect here-" She then showed off her shiny badge, "-care to explain?"

Eun-ji Lee Hunt:

Reducio

Eun-ji couldn’t sleep. This was happening far too often as of late but there was not much she could do about it. Her brain was preoccupied by many thoughts, none of which were good. This meant she wasn’t sleeping when the commotion in their common room started. She was actually on her way downstairs to study. When the first angry shouts reached her ears, the witch hesitated. She really didn’t want to get herself involved in other people’s drama and it sounded like there were plenty people rushing in already. Let’s just stay out of this…

“HELP!!! SOMEONE GET A TEACHER OR A PREFECT!!” Eun-ji cringed. This was a second cry for help. Was none of the students present able to do so? The loud crashes coming from behind the door did sound rather concerning though. If somebody was hurt and nobody could help, could she really just ignore it? The answer of course, was no. Being a daughter of a surgeon and a healer, the Ravenclaw never turned a blind eye to medical emergencies. Her brain was hardwired to help even if she herself was hurt when she did so. Eun-ji rubbed her temples, already feeling exhausted and then she finally opened the cursed door.

The Common room was a mess. The people in it were a mess too. Most of them looked to be first years that were trying to help but ended up too disorganized or shocked to actually do so. Among the older students, she recognized two of Kim’s friends. Bailey and Damion. However, while Bailey seemed to be part of the helpers, Damion clearly was not. If anything, he looked like he was trying to remove himself from the situation as far as possible. Eun-ji glanced his way briefly and she was reminded of herself. Except she never lost control at school or at least not in a place where this many people could witness it. On the contrary, to anybody who knew her, even in passing, she was a calmness personified. Taking of her outer satin robe, the girl threw it onto Damion’s head. Whenever she was losing control, she liked to completely block out her surroundings. It was unclear whether her fellow fourth year felt the same but he could always throw the piece of garment away.

“왜 항사 나야? /Wae hang-sa na-ya?” Why is it always me? The girl sighed before calmly approaching the broken window and the boy underneath it. “What are you doing? Put him down, don’t drag him anywhere in this state.” Her voice was calm but strict, leaving no place for argument. She was more concerned about him of course but the window was a potential danger to others as well and therefore her first spell was not a healing one  “Reparo.” She said, pointing her wand on the window only barely registering the angry scream coming from behind her. Oh…that’s right, Aurora is a prefect now, isn’t she? Eun-ji paid her no mind however. She was not her priority at the moment and to be fair, she wasn’t here when this whole mess started so she couldn’t explain anyway. Somebody else would have to do it.

Once the shards moved back to their place, Eun-ji finally turned to the injured boy. (OOC: If the girls didn’t let go of him yet, she helped them put him down again.) “Move.” She’d say to anybody in her way before kneeling next to the unconscious first year. She inspected the wound, making sure not to touch it. Head wounds were dangerous so it didn’t make sense to drag him all the way to the hospital wing before stabilizing him first. To any onlookers, it was clear this was not the first time Eun-ji worked with an injured person and she was entirely unbothered by any blood that was now staining her hands and clothes. In truth, she had seen some stuff of nightmares when hanging around her parents' hospitals. This was nothing compared to that.

Hmm... Episkey won't be enough. I should probably use ferula. Eun-ji was carefully weighing her options. As she was wiping the blood from Oliver’s face with a clean handkerchief, the witch also turned to the other first year that got injuried in the brawl. “What about you? Where are you hurt?” She asked the young girl (Charlie) while she was making sure there were no more glass shards stuck in Oliver's wound. At least this one's conscious.

Pandora Smith:

Reducio

Pandora, unable to contain her anger, cried out:

"Don't call me stupid. If something happened, it would be worse to take it away. Stupid."

She would have said more, but she had managed to control her anger. She looked at the new girl. She seemed knowledgeable about these matters.

She realized that Bailey had come and asked. Great, she said to herself, more students. While I was trying to explain, another girl came. She looked like the governor of the house. Great, he told herself. Would he be punished again? There are wounded, but there would be no punishment then, she thought.

Meanwhile, the older girl came. She was wearing a satin dressing gown. She is at least wiser than us, she said to herself. She was right too. The girl had fixed the window. She heard him speak to Oliver. She was just chuffing the ones. She turned to Oliver with the first question that came to her mind.

"Why did Damion cast a spell on you? He's not normally like that."

“You only met once,” said a voice inside him. Pandora unwittingly gave her inner voice right. But she didn't want to think the other way. I think it was connecting too fast.

Charlie Jacobsen:

Reducio

Pandora responded negatively. It was expected, because I had called her stupid. “Ok. Let’s just move on.” I said. This wasn’t a time to argue.

Others were coming. Bailey, a Prefect, and another older student. Bailey and the prefect asked what was going on. “A lot has happened. Damion must have flippendoed Oliver. I came out, only because I heard glass shattering, and got the same thing, but I didn’t hit the window like Oliver.” I explained.

One of the older girls repaired the window which was very helpful. I carefully placed my hands where there was little to no glass, and sat up, leaning on my hands. “I hit my head on the wall, so I should probably be checked out by a nurse or someone.” I responded to the korean girl who was actually helping the situation. Reaching up to touch the tender spot on the back of my head. I winced when I brushed my fingertips across my head.

Pandora asked why Damion did it. “Well Pandora, we don’t know. But what we know, is that it was not right.” I said, answering a question that I knew wasn’t for me. But I did not care. Thinking about my friend who had been shipped away to St. Mungos, I wondered if Damion would get the same fate. But probably not.

@Hanako Tone very kindly sent me Hana's reply to bailey's apology letter, after their.... i dunno what to call that.....
keep in mind this is before part II takes place
anyways,,, the letter

Reducio

-------- Original Message --------
Subject: Gross Apology Letters
Date: 25 Apr 2023, 00:16
From: Hanako Tone
To: Bailey Glade

Hanako Tone wrote:

22 . 11 . 22

English & Parseltongue
Aftermath of this thread

dear hana,

i dunno what to say.... i guess i start with the obvious. the things included in this letter are what you left from our study session yesterday.
ok - onto the harder topics. I am sorry for shoving you over, if you'd believe that. I did not know what to do, you kissing kito kim awoke a tad of a protective monster >< and i lost control. I know excuses are not becoming of anyone, but i thought i should explain just a bit.
Kim has been my best friend practically since we were paired together as qill palls in my second year and his first. I am protective of all of my friends, and especially kim. Apparently - and yes, begrudgingly i admit you did help some - i have come to the realization that i may.. i may have fallen in love with my best friend. how this happened, i do not know. and it was only because of you that i realized this fact. so i guess... thank you? and at the same time, no thanks because what am i supposed to do with this knowledge? i can't pull a hana and just kiss him, i've never kissed anyone. what do i do now?

sincerely,

Bailey Glade || third year || ravenclaw

First of all, wow. He almost wanted to hug his books and pens upon receiving them. Surprised and relieved that they didn’t come as burnt ashes. Yesterday was tough. So much so that he was rather embarrassed having a few extra eyes on him as he went along with his day. Surely, some people had heard of his little um… public display of affection yesterday. He could still vaguely remembered the crowd that hanged around them and whispers of how he was into Kim, the Gryffindor 2nd year. That’s what he got for kissing a popular guy, he assumed. It wouldn’t be the first time Hanako got himself into rumours of liking someone. With his..character, it wasn’t difficult to be entangled with someone. With a new month, it seemed like a different person. However, even he admits it had never been this public or talked about before. An update to his type: someone who isn't popular.

At least as popular as Kim.

This early morning he had received a letter along side his items, and he made a good guess as to who it was from. It wasn’t until he was in the comfort of his own room that he opened the contents and read through them. “ Hah ?” the more he read, the more he was confused. “Why would she…”.

Apologies were the least he expected. He had been ready to say goodbye to the items he left at their study spot yesterday. All those notes and whatnot was going to be a pain to revive, but considering how angry he made her, he understood. Having a friend kiss your crush right in front of you to prove a point didn’t really feel all too great. He should know.

In fact, why was she even saying sorry? Shouldn’t he be the one to do it ( he had no plans of that ). And not only that, but she even asked him for advice? Him? Hanako had never felt so much pity for someone at that moment. The fact that she thought Hanako would actually be able to advice her. Perhaps that was expected. He seemed to be far more informed about her love life than she is about his. Something he’d like to stick to, if possible.

The adventures of his love life weren’t exactly pretty. Hell, he’s still dealing with it now. But he supposed it was expected, considering the way he talked when they discussed the matters of her heart yesterday. It was easy for him to act like he had experience, despite dating no one- ever. Still his view of love was devoid of its usual sweet romance a teen would usually associate love with. Games. Deals. Pure entertainment. No strings attached. That was his view. A strikingly different one from Baileys. So why she thought he could help her was beyond him.

In fact, why wasn’t she more angry? Shouldn’t she at least take a few days plotting his murder in her head? She got over the whole thing way too quickly. Should he be impressed, or envious? Well, at least she realised her feelings. Admittedly, some of the words she used in the letter tugged his heart uncomfortably.

'I lost control'

'Kim has been my best friend'

' How this happened, i do not know.'

' What am i supposed to do with this knowledge?'

The deep frown on his face seemed to catch Cu Siths attention. “ Cute? “ Hanako looked over from his desk to the floor and picked her up gently to place her on his table. “ It’s nothing, Cu Sith. Just.. someone that reminds me of myself “ he patted her head gently with his index finger, a gesture much appreciated by the snake.

Perhaps he and Bailey had more to talk about than he thought. But Hanako had made his decision when he pushed Percival Rainwood away when he came back from Hogwarts. Up till now, he was unsure whether it was the best decision, but it was necessary. That didn’t mean it didn’t come with their own issues.. With a heavy sigh, he crumpled the paper and carelessly threw it in the nearest bin.

Seeing it makes me sick.

Just as every thought of Rainwood still does. The anger, the betrayal, and everything else mixed between them all made him sick. And reading Glade’s letter only made Hanako remember things he didn’t want to. She could handle this herself. Hanako wasn’t going to send a letter back. A little petty revenge for making him remember the brunette boy. Can’t the universe give him a break? Were the dreams not enough? Now he had to be entangled in someone else with the same situation as he was in? Gross.

Gross.

Gross.

The irritatingly prominent image of Rainwood in his head was gross.

Reducio

OOC: hihihihihih i hope you enjoyed this xD its in the slytherin common room haha so you wont be able to see it. But I hope this owl would suffice

a wrecking ball of a valentines - pv clair
ravenclaw common room
i will update as we post back and forth!

Reducio

Subject: a wrecking ball of a valenties day [PV Clair F]

Bailey Glade wrote: 3 May 2023, 16:43

Word count: 315/200
Mentions:
@Taisia Stroudefielde • @Kim Sato
Interactions:
@Clair Fernandez

Bailey was distressed, upset, everything. it was almost a relief, no it WAS a relief when Kim left, and bailey waited a very short minute before leaving herself. She left in a rush, heading maybe for the lavatory... or her dorm. yes - dorm.... common room... bailey thought, hurrying through the corridors and through the castle. Her gold and glittery heels clicked on the stone floors as she walked quickly to a private place. just get to your dorm bailey thought. get there and then you can..
Bailey didn't even try to finish that sentence, knowing that thinking of her sobbing would just start the tears now. She felt her heart crack as she thought of the fact that she felt like she had ruined her relationship with kim.
Bailey answered the riddle the door gave her as quickly as she could, and entered the common room. Bailey didn't see many people, but she was sure someone was watching her. Bailey brushed the tears that were brimming in her eyes and found a chair, still in the common room. She had to get these shoes off, she wouldn't make it up the stairs to her dorm room with them on. She struggled with the strap on her left ankle, but finally got it undone. Her fake nails that she had put on for the ball were making these mundane jobs more difficult, and bailey felt a tear slip down her face as she struggled with the other strap on her right ankle. She finally got both feet out, and ignoring the fact that she was still in the common room, bailey drew her legs up to herself, and hugged her knees, feeling the tears start to roll in earnest down her face. Bailey had one thought before she fully started crying, and it was that she was happy kim couldn't and wouldn't see her like this.

Reducio

Subject: a wrecking ball of a valenties day [PV Clair F]

Clair Fernandez wrote: 3 May 2023, 21:15

Reducio

Outfit:

Clair was enjoying her day, she had finished all her homework and was now sitting on one of the seats with Kiwi and a book. One hand was holding the book and the other was curling Kiwi's long hair around a finger. The cat was purring pleasantly and Clair was just as content feeling, if she were a cat she would certainly be purring.

She was about to turn her page when she heard someone enter the common room, out of habit she looked up to see who it was. Another Ravenclaw girl who Clair guess was either her age or a little older entered the room, she looked upset. Clair noted the girl's outfit, not something she though people wore on a daily bases, unless Clair was a few centuries behind on fashion at Hogwarts, which was completely possible.

Clair watched, the girl fight with her heels and nails and then curl up in a ball. Poor thing. Clair unspun her finger from Kiwi's fur, bookmarked her book and then walked over to Bailey. Clair allowed herself to sit about a foot away from the other girl.

"Er" maybe she should have thought of what to say first. "I saw you come in, and, um, I don't know you looked like you could use someone to talk to." Clair offered, "I can go if you want to be alone as well." she offered, "I am Clair, second year." she offered out. in hopes of starting a small conversation.
(wc 250)
@Bailey Glade

Reducio

Subject: a wrecking ball of a valenties day [PV Clair F]

Bailey Glade wrote: 11 May 2023, 01:30

Word count: 443/200
Mentions:
@Taisia Stroudefielde • @Kim Sato
Interactions:
@Clair Fernandez

Bailey’s day had not been a good day- definitely not a good day to remember. It marked the day of her first ‘fight’ with her best friend Kim, one she worried would ruin her friendship, had happened mid party. Bailey was feeling all the feelings- worry, anger, fear, concern, confusion, sadness.
Bailey fought with nails and her heels, getting the shoes off before curling into a ball. Tears leaked down her face, and she just wanted the day to be over.
Bailey looked up a minute later, as she heard someone approaching. It was Clair, the girl one of her closest friends - coco, who’s real name was Colin McCoire- the girl he howled about all around the castle.
Bailey smiled a small and honestly a weak smile at the girl, as she used one hand to wipe her face.
Extending herself slightly, she said with a rather meek and soft voice “hey…I really could use a person to talk to- to talk sense to me.”
After a pause in which Clair introduced herself, Bailey said “Hey Clair- You’re coco - sorry Colin’s Clair, right? My name is Bailey, Bailey glade. Third year”
Bailey settled into a more relaxed way onto the chair, even though she felt like doing anything but that.
Bailey decided it was better to start than to sit there in silence, and she really needed to say something.
“um…. Well I just came from the Valentine’s Ball…. Hence I’m dressed like this-“ she gestured to her dress and shoes, and hiccuped before returning to her tale. “I … met my best friend there. His name is Kim Aoki, you may have heard the rumors that were dating… we’re not, but that’s not really relevant.

Well … In our conversation i said a few things that are true, but probably came off wrong… and Kim kinda stormed off, and I think he’s mad at me and I can’t loose him, even as a friend, and even though I think I like him, he’s not in a place for a relationship and plus I don’t think he likes me like that, and that honestly doesn’t matter cause I may have ruined our friendship, even though everything is aid was true. And he probably needed to hear it, but I probably said it wrong, or I could have- baileys said that all in a rush, and suddenly stopped herself.
Bailey blushed, and another tear fell down her cheek.
She said softly “Sorry Claire… I’m just so worried about Kim, and I think he needs help but he won’t admit to me, or even to himself that something’s wrong…. And I just feel so helplesss…”

Reducio

Subject: a wrecking ball of a valenties day [PV Clair F]

Clair Fernandez wrote: 11 May 2023, 11:50
It seemed Clair had run into a trap of teenage emotions. The Ravenclaw settled herself into a better
more comfortable position seeing as Baily had not pushed her away, yet.
Colin's Clair? she had not known she was anyone's Clair, it sounded like she was a pet. A small played on her lips, "I guess you could say that" she replied, "Nice to meet you Bailey." Clair would offer her hand for a shake, but the idea that the other girl, Bailey, may have rubbed her hands on her nose was really really gross to her. So she kept her hand by her knee.

The broom racer listened as Bailey talked about just coming from the valentines day Ball, Ahh, that was the reason for her outfit then. She talked about how there were rumors that her nd Kim were dating but they really weren't. Never one for gossip, Clair had not heard that rumor, or if she had it had gone in one ear and out the other, but for the sake of Bailey she said nothing on the matter.

Clair nodded, she understood about saying things the wrong way. "no need to apologize, your worried for him, it shows you care about him." the younger Ravenclaw shifted a little, she had no idea if Bailey was saying that Kim was mentally ill, Physically ill or something else. "It can be hard to admit that you have a problem, Once you two have had a little while and this... drama has blown past maybe you can bring it up to him? I'm sure the School nurse could help somehow."
(wc 272)
@Bailey Glade

Post 1 | Xailah

Reducio

Xailah Alptraum wrote: 30 Sep 2023, 18:17

10/29/23
@Opeila Winters, @Clark Baird, @Howard White, @Rebecca Loops

Rot. It spread like infection across the earth, vining and blooming across any surface that granted it room to root. It reeked too- the smell of decay and rotting metal permeated the light breeze of mid-day, hanging, flowering, hampering the cool autumn air with the sickly-sweet stench of death.

It was a smell most could recognize; the breath of the reaper; but some were not always aware that they knew the scent. But the moment one learned, the moment one understood; the odor became ingrained. Immediately identifiable. Completely unforgettable.

Xailah knew death in all of his forms- how he felt, and the sound of his telltale whispers. Of course she knew. She had been taunting him for seventeen years and counting. Her dynamic with the Angel was, frankly, the only one that she had remained consistent with in all her time of existing on this physical plane. So naturally, she understood the fetor; it was one that would never leave her: it's mark having been seared into her mind at a tender age. She knew that beyond where she stood- planted at the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest- something dead awaited inside.

Not the dead things she knew were in there- whatever this sudden outpour of grotesque flora presupposed, went far deeper than six feet under. Deeper than even she could fathom.

The smell was worse at the forest's edge than it was on the school grounds closest to the castle, entailing that it would only grow stronger the farther one ventured past the first ward of foliage. The metamorph was not fond of the idea, considering her delicate senses; she doubted her company- a funny little ragtag group that had accumulated near the woods with her and her steadfast feline companion- was keen on the idea either. But, for the sake of investigation, such a delve was necessary.

To Xailah at least. The others could stay as far back as they so pleased. She wouldn't blame any of them for doing so.

With a spade wielded in one gloved hand, while her other covered her nose lightly in an expression of disgust, the Gryffindor turned to the nearby posse. "I say we go as deep as the woods will allow. See how bad this infestation really is." She gestured to the mouth of the woods with a slight crane of her neck, her eyes bouncing to each face as she spoke. "I will pay you for any weeds that you manage to pull up and bring to me fully intact. Roots and all." A odd proposition, but it was backed by a genuine point: an often insatiable need for discovery. Xailah wanted to learn these things. They were a far cry from what was considered "normal" flora found in the forest- Xailah knew, she frequented the place- but they were also beyond unusual in that right.

"Assuming these have a root system." She mulled, glancing down and nudging one of the plants with the edge of her boot (having noticed it's vague, mushroom-like resemblance); knocking the pustule blooming from it's erect stem over, without much effort or force. A wrinkle creased her nose as the exposed sore oozed, releasing more rot into the air.

With a chipper change in note, the party would be waved along. "Come on then, there is no time like the present- and do try to stay within eye line. This is not an area any of you want to get lost in, especially if you are unfamiliar." A narrow look was spent on Rebecca the group with that last punctuation. And with that, Xailah and Schrödinger would lead the way into the unforgiving forest. There was a lot of work to be done, and it wasn't going to do itself.

Entering the Forbidden Forest, presumably getting right to work once deep enough into the woods. It's going to be a party up in there.

Xailah's Equipment:
-Harvesters knife
-A small journal
-Hand spade
-Leather gardening gloves
-Hand rake
-Wand

Schrödinger's Equipment:
-Dashing good looks
-Tiny baby cat paws
-Teef

Post 2 | Clark

Reducio

Clark Baird wrote: 30 Sep 2023, 20:04

No, it wasn't a direct desire nor a necessity for the boy to make his own way out into the forbidden forest. He just felt like he had some sort of a perquisite to make his presence known there. It was like some sort of a subliminal calling that had a basic level of interest in his head. The leafy greens would maybe be soothing, calming, peaceful, or maybe it'll just break his soul completely and cause him to go crazy.

Whatever the forest may do to him, he didn't care at the moment. But he would only be following the group of ancient elders in front of him. At least, he would expect to be following them in good terms. He didn't have a spade or something sharp to necessarily dissect whatever he was supposed to find, if he were supposed to do such a crime to the beings of the forest.

No, instead he just had his wand, and that was probably the best thing he could possess that would be in his pockets and in addition to it, he had his fork. Who knew why he had it.

As he followed along, he decided that he would start singing a song, surely to make the time pass by faster. "BORN TO BE KINGS, PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE, FIGHTING AND FREE---" (Princes of the Universe, Queen) And he wouldn't stop singing unless confronted.

He took note of what the elder of the group had said, about being compensated for weeds, but Clark had to keep in mind the possibility of getting in trouble with his father if he accepted compensation.

Post 3

Reducio

Howard White wrote: 1 Oct 2023, 04:41

It had been quite the relief when the call went out to the student body about removing the weird weeds that were beginning to invade Hogwarts’ grounds. For a while now Howard and his sensitive nose had been catching random whiffs of a rot that seemingly had no source and a chance to be rid of them motivated the young man into action. It was quite the vendetta for one that considered himself a plant lover. His high marks in Herbology a testament to that fact, but that’s what greenhouses were for Howard muttered to himself as he marched towards the forest. He liked his plants contained, not bombarding his nostrils without permission!

Soon enough he would meet up with the group he had been invited to join. Gary the Purple Pygmy Puff could be spotted on his shoulder, but after his little nose rose into the air he would disappear into Howard’s breast pocket with a squeak of protest. Xailah and Opeila he knew well enough and he had surely heard of Clark whether he liked it or not, but Rebecca would offer a chance of meeting someone new. “Hello.” Howard greeted the others before reaching into his bag to retrieve some equipment. First would be a handkerchief tied around his face to cover his mouth and nose. Next would be some protective eye wear to guard his pretty crimson eyes and to finish the ensemble would be his trusty hide gloves. Safety First ladies and gentlemen!

“Agreed.” Howard said to Xailah when their eyes met and she suggested diving into the woods. “If we can find the origin of the infestation we’ll have better luck getting rid of it.” He was mostly sure that was sound advice, but he fully believed in the fake it till you make it mentality, so little more thought went into that. “Plan to study them?” The question came with a raised brow as she offered compensation for any whole plants returned. Howard had to admit that his disdain for the weeds dissipated a bit as his curiosity grew. What on earth were these damned things?

Reaching into his pocket, Howard would retrieve a small knife he often carried in such situations and knelt down next to one of the plants. With a small prod he too realized the bulbous weed had begun to ooze a thick red substance that only made the smell worsen. “Gross.” Stating the obvious, but the handkerchief hid the grin that had crossed his face. There was an adventure at hand and Howard just couldn’t help himself. He plunged the knife into the earth and cut a circle around the weed. With a bit of a pull the plant gave way and along with it came long and surprisingly thick roots. Question answered. “Right behind you.” Howard began to follow Xailah as she led them into the forest.

Word Count: 482

Post 4 | Opeila Winters

Reducio

Opeila Winters wrote: 4 Oct 2023, 23:32

@Xailah Alptraum @Howard White @Clark Baird @Rebecca Loops

About a month ago, Opeila, Emma and Professor Blumenthal had stumbled over a weird plant that was filled with red liquid. A month was apparently also more than enough for the odd thing to spread on the grounds and parts of the Forbidden Forest as well, so Opeila didn't hesitate to sign up when she heard that students' help was needed. Equipped with a trowel, pruning shears and gardening gloves, a bucket, needles, several glass vials and Loras, the fifth year would enter the forest- yes, she was not going to pass up a chance to walk past the treeline without getting detention.

And she was not the only one apparently. An odd little group had formed, consisting of Xailah, a fellow prefect, Howard, the dhampir whose teeth Opeila had pulled not too long ago, and two younger kids. One of them Opeila recognized from her own house, the other... not.
Xailah's comment that she would pay them for every intact root would earn her an odd look from the side. "What are you planning to do with them?" Students following own plans with odd stuff gave Opeila a bad feeling. She remembered what happened when students tampered with the blood curse on their own and while this plant did not seem dangerous so far, who knew if it could be?

She would watch her cat, who had first eyed the other feline with unmistakable distrust and now hissed at some of the weeds on their way. "Come on, silly.", she would mumble and gently nudge Loras with her foot.
Opeila would follow along, swallowing the slight discomfort she felt at going into the forest this deep. One of the kids starting to sing made her wince and she picked up a stick to throw at him. Not hard, but so she would get his attention. "Oy, stop! Listen, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but it would be cool if we could find a spot to work without being followed by all beasts in a mile radius, alright?" Sure, they weren't exactly quiet anyway, but they didn't need to start shouting lyrics now, did they?

Opeila would set down the bucket once they had found a spot to start deep in the woods, put on her garden gloves, crouched down and held a vial next to one of the weeds before puncturing one of the red blisters with a needle. Loras hissed and jumped back before turning to join one of the others, definitely hissing some more at whatever they were working on. Carefully Opeila squeezed the red liquid into the vial and repeated the process until it was full. Only then she dug up the remains and threw them into the bucket. "Definitely try and get the roots out, so we don't have to do this all again in a week..." Carefully she held the vial into the light and turned to the others again. "What do you suppose this is?", she would ask, mainly looking at Xailah and Howard.

Equipment: Wand, Gardening Gloves, Pruning Shears, Trowel

Post 5 | The Narrator

Reducio

The Narrator wrote: 8 Oct 2023, 00:39

Reducio

The Forbidden Forest was 'forbidden' for a reason. It was more than the tangled gnarled roots that seemed to try to trip and snare an unsuspecting traveler, or the long, twisted branches that resembled a witch's fingers clawing at an unforgiving sky. There was this pervasive gloom in the forest, beneath the dark canopy that sealed away the light and muffled the cries for help that might on occasion spring forth from the blackened wood. In truth, the woods were still 'wild', an untamed landscape where all sorts of magical creatures dwelled. A beast is neither bad nor good, they just simply are and they coexist within this magical ecosystem separate from the wizard whom might try to dominate them. In these untamed wilds, the wizard was on par with their environs. They risked more than their dignity by stepping forth into the woods, their blood was worth more than their favor ever could be to the denizens of the forbidden forest.

Yet, that is merely a surface level truth. The woods have a cruel history, from the malfeasance of Quirinus Quirrell who drank the blood of a unicorn to maintain his vitality through the violation of one of nature's purest of animals. He did not know it then, but there was a bane on those lands. On the sites were those majestic creatures were killed, the land was truly blighted. And it was the corruption of this blood stained earth that drew other wretched creatures -- hags, more than one coven in fact, as well as other dark creatures that have not yet revealed themselves.

The hags had assistance reaching the fringes of Hogwarts, a wicked site to settle down but also an abundant buffet within arm's reach. Why anyone would choose to collaborate with these wretched crones was a mystery for another day, an act of misguided benevolence or a cruel and selfish act perhaps. This was a mystery that would never be solved, dead women tell no tales. The hags had been destroyed, their attempt at parturition would fail as the great annelids that had taken up residence in the heads of more than one student were either evacuated and slain or in one tragic case, the neophyte hag was destroyed.

In the time since their passing, their dark magic continues to linger in these woods as does the terrible legacy of those slain unicorns that had been ravaged in the deep darkness those years ago. It has been said that the forest itself has become corrupted, that the forest seeks the blood of innocents to slake an unrelenting thirst. The dead forest that unmoves still. The dead forest that is rife with superstition and cautionary tales to keep children where they ought to be - safe in their beds.

Howard White

They had found these strange, unappetizing plants. [Keen Scent] The scent of rot permeated the air, but it was more than that as @Howard White would discover. A scent he knew well, the scent of blood, something he had come to crave since the metamorphic change that had shifted the trajectory of the half-blood's life. He had shifted from a boy that did not quite belong in either world and he had become an almost man that could not not belong in either world. He craved the vitality within the veins of their friends, of their family, he had become a predator that was forced to live amid a flock of sheep. Yet, this blood was wrong, it would turn his stomach and make him feel physically ill. As if he was hit in the gut, a sharp pain in the lower portion of his stomach and this creeping sense of nausea that seemed to creep up the back of his throat, the bitter taste of bile touching the back of his tongue.

[Blind Vision] His other senses were tingling, but not in the excited way he might feel when he was in the room with Bloom, or in a quidditch match. No, this was a tingling sense that screamed something was wrong. His other senses kept on pinging on movement below him for but a moment before blinking away. Something was screwing with his senses.

Perception Check (DC 20)
Roll: Wisdom (1) + 1d20 (8) = 9 Failed

He would not see what Opeila and Clark saw on the ground, in the ground, buried beneath the surface. He would not be able to quite place where that scent of vile blood was coming from. Just that it was there, that it was perhaps everywhere. He would also not notice that tree that attempted to skewer him from behind.

Forest Attack - target Howard
Attack: 25 + 1d20 (8) = 33 Hit
Evasion: 18 + 1d20 (7) = 25
500 damage, 700 health remaining

A spike of wood would pierce through Howard, entering his back and exiting just below his ribs. His shirt being stained a deep shade of red. It would hurt terribly and now the scent of his blood would mingle with that which was not his own.

The spike would attempt to lift the dhampir from the ground, pull him back into the woods.

Howard Strength Save (Dc 25)
Strength (15) + 1d20 (19) = 34

Howard would be able to rip himself free, but there was a clean hole in his midsection. His fellow wizards would be able to see light through his midsection. He was also still bleeding profusely (100 damage per round). The creek of the forbidden wood would herald another terror soon to come.

Opeila Winters-

She had dug up some samples. The strange, thick, deep roots would seem endless. It was like trying to break a piece of rope with her bare hands. She would recover several samples, but there was something else in the dark earth. These strange, white or ivory hued, inorganic... stones?

Opeila Perception (DC 20)
Roll: Wisdom (10) + 1d20 (14) = 24 Success

No, these were not stones, too long in some cases. Too... oddly shaped. They were bones. Not that she would have a chance to announce her disastrous finding. @Opeila Winters would be struck with a "vision" [Seer] (note to mods: they still get the other one as well) that would leave her frozen in place. His eyes glazed over, she would feel the psychic impact of something vile, something powerful and something terrible. A sudden, searing pain would be first felt in her temples would quickly move to behind her eyes would overwhelm her. This would be unlike any vision the Seer had ever experienced.

She might even scream, or at least try but no sound would come out. Just a wheeze.

Wisdom Save (DC 25):
Wisdom (10) + 1d20 (5) = 15 Failed

Blood would trickle from her eyes, like tears and her green eyes would grow an eerie pale, almost bone colored hue with just the palest sentiment of her once verdant iris'. She would be struck with a voice she knew, it was Vladimir's. "You were not supposed to be here."

This was not a vision. No, this was something else, something much worse. Drawn in by her own link to the fates, something or someone had a grip on her brain. She would feel her hands search for something but she was not moving her hands on her own. It was clumsy, fumbling and seeking her wand. Ash wood and snallygaster heartstring, held in an awkward manner and shaking slightly from an unseen exertion. "Get out of here," Opeila would announce only she did not say that. But that was her voice, it came from her own mouth, albeit halting and strained.

...Confringo. with spell spread. A blast of fire would be unleashed from her hand, her wand but she did not cast it. She did not intend to cast it. Did she? She was a spectator in her own body.

She would have hit something had she tried, she was an experienced duellist and a terror with a wand. Only, she was aiming for a tree, a large, rather unassuming tree that appeared to be dead. It would be set ablaze and as it was, the tree would change. The carpet of mushrooms closest to the tree would of course catch fire and as they did so screams that were not her own would fill the air. Numerous, small and shrill.

A red mist would settle and where there was once a simple, dead tree something else would remain in its place.

Clark Baird

@Clark Baird was the closest to the ground and while it was a good set-up for a short joke, the part-goblin also had an uncanny approximation to the roots that Opeila was uncovering. These strange, deep, fibrous things that were unlike the roots that he should find if he were to procure fresh pizza toppings. Those roots were fine and shallow. These were thick, and reminded him perhaps of ropes. The strange, speckled caps sort of like a sparse pomegranate. Little did anyone know, Clark would eventually find these plants appealing enough to place in his mouth. People put all sorts of terrible things in their mouth and this would ultimately not be an exception. Just not here, not now (probably).

He would see it also, the strange white things in the shallow pit that was dug. Amid the displaced earth from the root that was pulled. A vertebrae most certainly, and perhaps part of a broken long bone. He would also see the change in Opeila's eyes, not that he was necessarily interested in gazing into them. Just that they were different in a weird way. Maybe they were always that strange pale hue. But most importantly, he would see the ground shudder and something beneath the ground start moving. And move it did, towards Xailah.

Xailah Alptraum

She knew this was a bad idea. She knew that there was something terribly wrong with the forest. She had experienced the strange 'life' of the forest with @Rebecca Loops over the summer [Reference Thread]. The sudden surge of strange, blistered plants throughout the grounds had in fact pulled her to their source. In fact, they were the spark that finally brought this into motion.

Blood fuels this beast.

And Howard's vital fluids were watering the strange, speckled mushrooms at his feet. They seemed to almost bloom around him.

Xailah's Perception
DC 20 to notice it.
Wisdom (16) + 1d20 (6) = 22

She would see the strange bones unearthed by Opeila, the fact that they were walking on a grave was likely not a huge shock for her. She would also see the change in Opeila's eyes. She would even see the ground moving and know that something was coming for her [attack loses advantage because she noticed it.] [Blind Vision] She would notice more than Howard did, there was indeed movement below her and it was large. She she could also sense others, not quite as large as this moving about more sluggishly beneath the surface.

Earth Attacks Xailah
Attack: 25 + 1d20 (8) = 33 Missed
Evasion 17 + 1d20 (18) = 35

A hand would spring from the earth and attempt to grab @Xailah Alptraum's ankle but she would step away just in time. The hand was strange, certainly inhuman. A mixture of bone and twig, the earth around it would crumble as something emerged from the earth.



The blood curse started decades ago was finally being realized. It was good that they came during the day, that they did not arrive on the new moon. Yet, the moon and the day were not enough to hold them any longer. The creature, whatever it was would extend its arms in silent greeting and the brambles would lash out, the trees would shift, the forest was no longer willing to give any of you up.

Lair Actions

Forest Shifts (+5 to check) - need to succeed a wisdom check (15) to make your way out one time to escape the forest or use another method of escape. This check must be done on the same round as the escape.

Brambles (2 attacks)
Brambles attack Opeila
Attack: 10 + 1d20 (5) = 15 Miss
Evasion 11 + 1d20 (19) = 30
Brambles attack Xailah
Attack: 10 + 1d20 (11) = 21 Miss
Evasion 17 + 1d20 (12) = 29

Stone (2 attacks)
Stone attacks Opeila
Attack: 10 + 1d20 (19) = 29 Miss
Evasion 11 + 1d20 (19)= 30
Stone attacks Xailah
Attack: 10 + 1d20 (5) = 15 Miss
Evasion 17 + 1d20 (7) = 24

The forest floor about Opeila and Xailah would briefly look like a pin cushion. She would both jump, not that Opeila had complete control over herself when she did. She was fully aware however and she could feel her hands reaching up for the tree branch above expecting to grab it only to fall short. Damn her vertical impediment! She would return to the forest floor, unharmed. "Will you run?" The voice in her head asked.

Xailah was a bit more graceful, did she learn it from Schrödinger or should her tubby ball of love take notes as she gracefully avoided (somehow since you have control over your PC) the sharp stones that had sprung forth only to disappear as abruptly as they came.

Thorny whips would lash out at the duo. Opeila would tuck and roll, crushing some of the mushrooms as she did so. They screamed of course. "You need to escape now!" Sticks and bits of bone would find their way into her hair, her outfit forever ruined. Xailah would also (likely more cleanly) avoid the thorns.

• Something is controlling Opeila.
• Nobody but Opeila can hear the voice.
• As an action you can try to overcome the hold. You can talk to the voice for free.
• A dwelling has been revealed, it is however on fire.
• The mushrooms are screaming
• The forest is attacking (2 thorny brambles and 2 stone attacks per round)
• The trees are attacking (1 per round, very powerful however)
• Something emerged from the ground.
• The forest is shifting, each round it will become harder to escape (wisdom checks). You will need to think about some part members who wont be able to run.

Post Six | Jack W

Reducio

Jack Warren wrote: 10 Oct 2023, 13:57

Clocks might not even exist around Jack Warren, not that he would bother to look at them, to begin with, if they did. Even with his sudden shift into a terrible attitude, it did nothing to help with the boy's chronic issues with time management. Instead of an internal clock, Jack must have grown something different entirely—an urge. The urge was the reason for his boots and jeans to constantly be caked in mud and the hearty callouses that had grown even more pronounced on the tips and base of the teenager's fingers.

It was like a string was attached to the center of his solar plex, and when that itch that urge showed its ugly face, an invisible hand slowly began to tug at that string. Jack had received an invitation to pull some weeds from an elder Gryffindor, but initially, he planned to bail on that. At first, when Xailah initially brought it up, Mr. Warren was filled with an unwarranted excitement for gardening, only to be followed by utter disappointment. Yet, Jack's chest rose from the soft mattress as he lay in his dorm room, his head still lolling backward while his back arched upward. Legs were flung wildly from under his covers and off of the bed as the invisible hand forced Jack's body into an upright sitting position. The boy's head hung limply over his as his eyes fluttered open slowly. This is how it always happened. His body always knew ages before his mind could even register. Sharply inhaling, the boy would finally fully gain use of all of his faculties.

Jack had taken every opportunity to sleep as much as possible, even during broad daylight, so the boy wore his standard sleepwear, which only consisted of black athletic shorts. Yet, he knew it wouldn't take long before the urge would force him to follow the pull from his center. He was tiredly moving his sockless feet into his trainers and, with only the slightest sense of urgency, throwing on a black hoodie with some random band emblazoned on its front. Finally, the only other things the teen could think to bring were his cherry wood wand, and the small pocket knife his father gave him during his first year.

The wind was chilly against Jack's bear legs and face, but he barely had time to recognize it as he was ushered forward like a fish on a line. He knew that any attempt to deviate would only result in that gentle pull turning into an unbearable burning itch. Jack had tried to resist before, but it was an addiction. If he endeavored to defy for too long, the boy would shift into a flailing chaos of limbs as he scrambled wildly towards the location his impulse implored him to reach. Like the good boy he was, Jack learned his lesson.

Soon, it dawned on the boy where exactly he was. The soft crunch of grass underfoot would change into large roots, and the horrid canopy snuffed any sign of light. Of course, this wasn't his first foray into this forbidden forest, but a chill ran up his spine as he craned his neck back to look up towards the hooked stalks of the trees. Like the wicked, spindly fingers of wretched monsters, the branches jutted jaggedly from the trunks of the trees a lofty distance above him. Even so, he continued to trek forward... deeper.

It was drawing closer. With every step, the thrumming tingle grew more intense. Faster than Jack could process, waves of red mist rolled out of the distance, engulfing the Hufflepuff in its crimson drafts as if he was drowning in a sea of lifeblood. This is so bad was all the boy could think about, but Jack had survived so much worse, right? He only had one choice: to trudge even further forward. Raising his wand, the boy whispered only a single word, "Lumos."

Drawn closer by terrible screams and movement, Jack booked through the bramble and onto the scene. "What the actual f- was all he was able to get out as he took stock of the entity that rose from the dirt. Jack was always quick to act, though the teenager was a bit slow on the uptake, not that the moment's chaos was helping. God, Jack sure wished he had paid better attention in his classes- If only he had a spell that could resolve this issue. But of course, there wasn't just a fix-everything spell; Jack knew that much. However, he only recently provided himself with something that could come in handy. Hunching over, the boy forced his change. It took mere moments, but as he began to charge toward Opeila, his soft footfalls shifted into something heavier. The visage of a roughly six-foot-tall boy was replaced with that of a massive Elk with wicked antlers sprouting from its head, branching out of its skull like the branches from a tree. The beast raided past the Slytherin girl and towards the monstrosity of bone and timber to attempt to assault the thing with its nasty antlers. As if to notify everyone else of his presence, Jack released his bugle, though the human-like screech probably did not help the haze of the moment. At the very least, it would help distract it.

Here to make things harder for @Howard White, @Opeila Winters, @Clark Baird, & @Xailah Alptraum

Action: Charging in and attacking the bone creature with Antler attack[Animagus Claw 1 attack]

Post 7 | Xailah

Reducio

Xailah Alptraum wrote: 12 Oct 2023, 23:01

@Opeila Winters, @Clark Baird, @Howard White, @Rebecca Loops, @Jack Warren

The group was a weird choice of collected company, yes, albeit a rather charming one. Most of the people Xailah knew- be it by role association, casual encounters, or unfortunate shared circumstances; like, say, being at the wrong place at the same time. Actually, the more she looked to each face, the more she realized how much she shared with these people in terms of strange encounters, but perhaps such was expected of Hogwarts students; they all came with some sort of baggage.

Well, all except for Clark. The Baird boy was a small (no pun intended) mystery to the elder metamorph; perhaps for the best, considering his reputation as Hufflepuff's very own demolition man. She had heard things of course, but so long as he kept to himself and didn't cause an unnecessary rise, he was hardly a problem.

Yet Xailah would still express some signs of mild discomfort- not towards the Baird child, oh no, but at something much smaller and much more docile than he. For whatever reason (she had very likely repressed the fact), she had forgotten Howard had a pygmy puff; and the sudden sight of the creature was driving her to jitters. Although small, anyone weird enough to be looking at her hands would be able to see the slight tremors the purple beast instilled. She was like that for a time- stiff and unblinking- until the puffskein finally retreated into it's keepers breast pocket; how it managed to squeeze it's rotund body into a space less than half it's size was something only god knew, and frankly, god could keep that information to himself, thankyouverymuch.

Howards greeting, returned some ease. The boy had always been considered affable company, and after a shared incident in knockturn, that sentiment was cemented. He was nice to have around- even if he was a keeper of one of the most monstrous and horrid beasties known to wizardkind. Xailah met the dhampir's err to caution with gentle enthusiasm; "Ah! An excellent idea Mr. White." The darkling nodded in approval, watching as Howard produced a kerchief from a bag of equipment and tied it around his face. Patting herself down, she would mirror the action, pulling a lacy little square of fabric from a concealed pocket, and secured it over her nose and mouth. Was a spell more practical? Perhaps. Yes. But the handkerchiefs were much more stylish, and as an added bonus: they made the pair look like a band of rascally bandits. If they were to suffer the smells, then they were to suffer stylishly, at the very least. "We look rather dashing, don't we?"

Xailah nodded at Howard's conclusion, pleased that he caught on so quickly to what she had in mind. "Precisely. Mayhaps it will allow us to get to the root of the problem." She chirped, leaning expectantly to gauge the reactions of the party, before eventually beaming at her own joke. For someone trying to gain a grasp on a wider rage of joking outside of blatant sarcasm, she was rather proud of that one. "That is a good one don't you think? It just came to mind."

After offering compensation for the groups work; questions about the metamorph's intentions surfaced. They were expected, and the Gryffindor had no problem being open with the party. "Why, yes, that is the plan." She admitted. What could she do? She as a curious cat by nature. Shifting her sights to Opeila, she would make note of the side-eye the snakelet delivered. It was warranted, and it wouldn't be the first time the lioness had received such a stare. In fact, it was a given by now. "I intend to conduct a few test on them and observe how they react when exposed to different conditions. Perhaps see if they are of any use in anything." She said, plainly. Really, that was about it.

"I understand if that may be a cause for caution or... discomfort; but I assure you, despite my ravenous intrigue I am not one to completely throw sense to the wind." This came with a note of dry amusement. "I would like to think of myself as dangerously curious, not outright stupid. And believe me, there is a difference." Golds flitted to Howard, who had summoned a knife from his equipment bag, and now stooped to get a closer look at the plants in discussion. His prodding with the knife would produce similar (if cleaner) results, as Xailah's had with the tip of her boot. She'd approve his disgust with a slow nod. "Indeed."

As expected, the mushroom(?) ooze brought grimaces to the faces of the students. However, unexpectedly, it made the felines in the group react bitterly. The elder Gryffindor was keen on cats, and had been watching her's as well as Opeila's own boy, Loras. The Slytherin's little tabby looked to be a fussy little thing, judging by the way he regarded Schrödinger. The low warning rumbles, and little tail twitches implied that the two felines would not become friends anytime soon- even if the much larger and rounder cat mostly disregarded the striped tabby. Irritation was anticipated, but the aggressive hissing- not toward each other, but toward the weeds- was not. As Opeila consoled her furry friend with a gentle chide, Xailah looked to her own with a prominent crimp in her brow.

The reactions were worrisome, but the lioness would not think much of it. For now.

No, she'd have a different matter on her mind as she and her handsome little lardball led the group past the edge of the grounds, where yellowing, autumn grass merged into gnarled roots. "Has anyone seen Jack Warren perchance? I invited him to come help us with the weeding." She muttered, glancing around, as if doing so would make him spontaneously appear out of thin air. He wouldn't. There were no Jacks in sight. It was likely the boy forgot about the invitation or simply planned on being a no-show. Ah, well, his loss. It was no skin off Xailah's nose.

With every step, the castle became nothing more than a distant memory; a dark outline against the greying sky, and leafless branches that seemed to knit the horizon together. The farther the posse strayed from haven, the darker the woods became; until the only light that guided them was the sparse specklings from above, that littered the forest floor like golden confetti.

The cats hissed more. This time, Xailah would openly acknowledge it.

"The animals do not take well to the growths," she observed quietly. "That is not good..." It was the first of many signs that screamed to abandon ship. Signs that the group should have paid heed to. Xailah, perceptive as she was, would not listen to the warnings of the cats (for the first time in her life), all for the sake of delving deeper into the mushroom madness- a decision she would likely reflect on with regret, in the future.

Yet, despite this, she would maintain some sense- enough to make her listen partially to her gut, and instruct Schrödinger to go back and wait outside of the forest: a request he would put up a fight with, but later submit to with great reluctance. "Go back and wait for us. Opeila, Howard, I am not going to tell you what to do with your friends, but I think you should have them go back too. My Schrödinger will keep an eye on both of them for you."

With the order, Schrödinger grumbled. Slowly, he waddled away (perhaps with another pet in tow, your choice Pei and Howard, I promise he won't eat your Pygmy Puff), turning occasionally in hopes that he would see his lady follow in turn. She wouldn't, much to his worry and dismay.

He could only wish she would change her mind before it was too late.

⬩──────────────────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ᓚᘏᗢ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅──────────────────⬩

Xailah made sure to keep a close eye on the younger members of this traveling circus. The Baird boy especially. Not that she thought he would do anything problematic- but it was always best to keep someone like him on a loose leash just in case he... well... did an infamous Clark thing. She'd notice the glint of silver on his person, and she'd squint, her pupils dilating a bit. Did he... have a fork with him? The Gryffindor slowed her pace a bit, falling into place next to Opeila and Howard. She'd lean to them with a low whisper, pointing out the utensil discreetly: "You do not suppose he..." Plans to eat the weeds? No- no, because why would anyone on god's green earth want to put something that smelt of rot into their mouth? Maybe the boy just liked silverware. That was valid- as an avid collector and enthusiast of silverware herself, she could understand that.

Oh, oh, but then the boy started singing. Not humming. Not whispering rhymes. He was belting as loud as his pint-sized lungs would allow. Xailah jumped a little. This obviously didn't earn him any favors, but Opeila looked especially irritated by his musical outburst; going so far as to toss a stick in his direction. Xailah would chortle modestly as the fellow prefect scolded the boy. Funny as it was though, the Slytherin was right.

"Octavius' boy, correct?" The Gryffindor would muse. "Miss Winters is right. It would be in your best interest to try and remain as quiet as possible. We need to be able to listen out for things." Her cat-like eyes would slip from one edge of the forest to the next, for emphasis. She would not bother to elaborate on what those things were. "That boy is going to wake the dead." A unfortunate choice of words as she- and the rest of the group- would come to find in the distant future. Xailah shook her head lightly, glancing over at Opeila with a mild half-smile.

Eventually, the party would find a spot to settle- a rich blight littered with blooming pustules and entwined roots- and wasted no time getting to work. Well, "work". The lioness would admittedly spend more time curiously watching Opeila, at first, than digging. "Oh? And what are you planning to do with that?" Xailah ribbed, redirecting Opeila's question from before. She watched the Slytherin's needle (why the girl had it? Xailah had no right to question, she possessed far shadier instruments herself) pierce the fleshy mushroom cap with little resistance, and extract the thick ichor from inside, like a bee would nectar. The metamorph would answer the snake's question while the girl transferred the liquid into a glass vessel. "The plants or your little science project?" She prodded in light jest, eyeing the vial Opeila now held to the pinhole light peering through the forest canopy. Swatches of rotting crimson and sheer gold, pooled onto the prefects pale face, where the sunlight pierced through the center of the vial.

Xailah turned her attention down towards a weed nestled where she stooped. She'd paw at the dirt around the thing with her metal claw and shovel.

"Truthfully? I am not quite certain. At first glance I would have taken these weeds for some variant of mushroom, but..." She groaned lightly as she uprooted the weed she had been working on with a firm tug, holding the thing up by it's base so it's roots dangled free, "mushrooms do not have a root system. Not like this." The tubers were eyed with a thin squint, the Gryffindor wasn't sure what to make of them. A number of strange plants existed within the wizarding world, but magical or mundane, they all adhered to designs nature set for them. These, however, were most unnatural.

"And, there is one other matter-" lowering the unearthed weed, it would be set aside for later storage, "these were not here the last time w- I was in here." There was an incredibly brief slip of the gaze to Rebecca's direction (assuming he was still with the group). "And I frequent this place quite often for things to harvest. I know just about every plant and animal you can encounter here- except for our little mystery sprouts." Xailah explained, moving her hand spade conversationally. "As for the liquid you have so expertly harvested; that too is a mystery to me. However, I cannot help but notice it bears a striking resemblance to... congealed blood. It is quite uncanny, actually." Contemplation escaped her in the form of a soft hum. "Best hold tight to it, Winters."

It was then Xailah caught wind of something wrong. At first, she'd pay no mind to the low groans and muted sounds of something slithering across the earth. She knew what it was and what it meant but- it was impossible for that to happen, because it only happened at night. During new moons. She had been watching the forest religiously after The Incident, and like clockwork it always "woke up" after sunset when the moon was absent.

It was the middle of the day right now.

Still, Xailah shot to her feet, her senses tingling with warning when the sounds did not cease.

Her chest would clench, and her grip on her gardening tools would grow white under her gloves. There was little time for a reaction. Four words would fall from her lips, and boy were they heavy. Xailah paled, if that was even possible given her starlit complexion, and looked to her fellowship with a sober expression. "I am so sorry." An apology. Not to anyone in the group; not for bringing them this far out- as no one had openly protested (or it had been missed if they did); but an apology for what they were to experience.

Because frankly, what was to come wasn't something anyone should have to go through. But now, they had no choice. They would be blocked in, and it would be too late to make a run for it the moment one of them noticed.

The trees would claim first blood; the party forced to scatter as a scythe-like branch broke through Howard's midsection. Oh, but mutilation was just a warmup. There was much more where that came from. Opeila did not display urgency like she should have; her stillness was alarming. More so were her eyes- white and void of soul, as life force flowed from them like a river. Yet, despite her impairment, Opeila would still speak- command in a tone not of her own- summoning a fearsome blast of fire from her wand.

Before the splayed party; the silhouette of a house unfurled from the flames consuming it rapidly. Or, something adjacent to a house. Screams filled the air- disorienting wails, because as Xailah would quickly observe while she maneuvered around moving roots: the screams did not come from her group.

They came from the goddamn mushrooms.

The growths pulsated to the heat of Opeila's flame. Well that isn't good. They can feel pain, Xailah realized, almost laughing in her head in disbelief. Fog rolled over the plants, spreading to the posse. It was red. Red like the ichor in the bulbous weeds. Red like Opeila's tears. Red like the life that drained from Howard. It was an inevitably, her golden gaze would drop to find something out of place in the monochrome scene. Sprinkled among the ground where the Slytherin prefect had been digging, she would spot slivers of ivory: all misshapen and oblong, some broken and scattered.

They were bones. Definitely. Being a nursing intern, as well as a collector of the odd and macabre, and a skilled taxidermist who specialized in skeletal reconstruction; Xailah knew immediately what those bones were. They were unmistakably humanoid.

The group was fighting on a burial site.

And, no, this did not faze the lioness; but it did invoke a sense of urgency in her core. Or maybe, seeing the ground moving toward her did. She understood that she wouldn't be able to get to Howard to aid him. Unfortunately, that responsibility would have to be placed upon someone else. "Baird! Try to get to Howard if you can, he needs medical attention immediately! It is of the utmost importance that we stop the bleeding!" No. Not because his blood was fueling whatever the hell this ecosystem was- it was a connection she had yet to make- blood loss was the prime cause of death with most serious injuries involving gaping wounds. Nick the wrong vein, slice oneself open a little too deep- and a person could bleed out in the matter of seconds. Howard had been gored; this was no matter of a deep cut. Misty red firelight poured through his wound, as if it were sunlight through a ships porthole- his blood, well, it rained from his midsection, blooming wet, meaty flowers at his feet.

"Howard, if you cannot heal yourself, try your best to apply pressure to yo-" The metamorph would never finish what she was saying, but the general idea was hopefully implied. Apply a compress. Hinder the bleeding. The ground would split open, a hand rocketing from the loose soil; it sought to grab something. Fortunately, Xailah was nimble, and jumped back just in time to leave the strange appendage groping at the air.

But, where there was a hand, an arm usually followed- and a body, and so on. Sure enough, there was much more than a hand hiding in the dirt. A... Thing, some construct of bone and mother nature's flesh, pulled itself out of the damp womb it had been resting in for... lord knew how long. It towered above the Gryffindor prefect, it's birth complete.

However, Xailah did not retreat from the abomination. The Alptraum heiress was an opportunist by nature; this reflected in her behavior, her interests, the relationships she superficially forged and discarded- her often unusual way of handling things. She was always looking for an opportunity, and here, she found one. She put out her arm as a ward, to establish distance between herself and this unholy beast of bones. Her air was calm. Eerily so. Her voice, a passing wind through the leaves. Her eyes, however, were wide harvest moons; the pupils nearly hidden in the ripples of rich gold; and her demeanor spelt out caution. "Their lives are not what you want." Calm, hasty breath warned. "I do not know who you are, but you and this forest should reconsider your intentions."

It was stupid admittedly. It sounded stupid. But Hogwarts students were capable of enacting some truly horrible things upon those who had wronged them. The lioness knew first hand; beneath her gloves always worn, her hands dripped sanguine. Xailah highly doubted this thing- be it reanimated or truly alive- and the woods wished to be subjected to the full potential of the Hogwarts student body, for about the fifth time.

Nothing alive, or in a state adjacent to living, actually wanted pain. And it especially didn't want to die.

While it was a mad idea to strike up chatter with such a monster, while the student party succumbed to the will of the woods- there was method to it. It was nothing more than a distraction. A risk spent to buy time. If Xailah could get through to the abomination, hell, then great, but that was not why she spoke to it. Fleeing was expected. Fighting was expected. Fear was a given. But Xailah thought, that even if this.... creature was not capable of understanding her on a sentient level, it would at least be thrown off by her utter disregard for expected human nature, long enough to either postpone any attacks it had planned, or keep it's attention away from the rest of the group.

She'd look around hastily while she had the opening to do so; her lamplight eyes shining like flashlights in the darkened wood, seeking a space between trees- or a place where the branches didn't quite pull close fully. Having been a player in this exact hellish game some months ago, she knew it was best to find an exit as soon as possible. No sign pointing to freedom would catch her eye just yet- however, a hazy light in the distance would. And as it grew closer, and brighter, Xailah realized that light was Jack fucking Warren. How he navigated his way to this exact spot, was something only he would know.

Temporarily, the lioness's attention drifted to the mostly unanticipated new arrival. "It is awfully nice of you to finally show Jack! Your timing is truly impeccable!" Despite the horror of the situation at hand, snark still found it's way into her tone as Warren's visage emerged fully from the mist. He may have been a sight for sore eyes if his presence didn't imply he was about to do something manic. There was no grey ground with Warren. He was either radio static or some swanky tune blasting through the stereo. Normally Xailah reveled in such energy, but she wasn't sure if it was going to help here.

"He's a bit of a ninny, that one." A swift shuffle would follow the offhanded remark, as the metamorph noticed more movement from the ground. More dead things, probably. The darkling didn't intend to stand around and find out.

Stone shot from the writhing earth, around Opeila first; which allowed Xailah to anticipate where they would strike next. Part of the reason why she had never taken up magical dueling: it was a terribly predictable sport. She picked up on people quickly, as well as patterns- especially the ones used in combative scenarios. And although the stones weren't people, she knew that if they wanted to claim Opeila, then they would want to claim her too. Bounding gracefully, the she-cat would clear the incoming attack. But not before catching the glimpse of a change out of the corner of her eye.

Where Jack Warren once stood, a behemoth of an elk now leapt. So Mr. Warren fancied himself an accomplished animagus, did he now? Impressive. Xailah would have to congratulate him later on the feat. But first, there was the rather urgent matter of escape. "Showoff!"

Her ill-timed comment was drowned out by the Hufflepuff boy's (elk's?) triumphant war horn, as he lowered his head to the bone mass with the intent to charge. It was a declaration: this was no longer an ambush, this was the beginning of a war. "Jack, wait!" Could he hear her? Over the tormented screaming? And, if he did, did he even care? Jack, the impossible beast of antlers and pure muscle, would make his decision. Although, it was likely he already knew what it would be before he even broke the treeline and stumbled upon the chaotic scene. "Jack no!" Alas it was too late, warnings would fall on stubborn, flaxen-furred ears. Nothing could be done now.

Distracting the undead monster was Jack's job now. His sacrifice was one Xailah would make use of as she turned her focus onto any party members that could hear her. "The woods are not going to make our escape easy, and we cannot wait to tend to him-" Howard- Howard was the him. "-We may need to put the fire out on that structure and take him there!"

Xailah is looking for the exit, attempting to reason with the bone creature buying time, and rallying anyone available to help Howard with the implication of taking him to the house-thing if things get real bad.

Schrödinger has stayed behind (feel free to use this in the future, moderators, light godmodding is permitted, I'm taking him out of the thread for now so there is one less thing to react to because my brain is constantly doing the hokey-pokey, and if he stayed Xailah would literally let everyone die just to get him out of the woods which.... yeah).

Xailah's Equipment:
-Harvesters knife
-A small journal
-Hand spade
-Leather gardening gloves
-Hand rake
-Wand
-A few weeds, all intact

Schrödinger's Equipment:
-Dashing good looks
-Tiny baby cat paws
-Teef

Post 8 | Clark

Reducio

Clark Baird wrote: 16 Oct 2023, 14:08

Clark was so intrigued by how disgusting yet pleasing the cute little plants looked. He thought for a second, if he were to disgust people, what would be the best way to do so? Ah yes! Using the fork he brought!

The Part Goblin stabbed into the plant, splitting a chunk of it from the rest of the plant, ooze dripping onto the ground and slowly oozing off of his fork as he brought it to his mouth to eat.

"Holy crap. This thing tastes..." He didn't finish his statement as he noticed something else that was weird on the ground. "What the fuck is this?" Clark proclaimed with a tone of confusion and was stunned to see it resembled something kind of like a stick with things sticking out of it. But... white. Was that... a bone? His dumbfounded expression only grew as he looked over at Opeila and her blue'd eyes.

"Ah. Hey Ope. Ope. You okay? I-" He began to mumble to himself. What the hell kind of predicament did he get himself into? It might be safe to say that Clark was beginning to feel a tad bit scared.

He needed to let go of that fear! It doesn't make up his whole being!

Clark just crouched back down on the ground and grabbed the bone and hid it behind his back, ignoring the incoming attack on Xailah intentionally as he started to eat more of the plant. Maybe it'd help resolve the issue.

Post 9 | Howard

Reducio

Howard White wrote: 16 Oct 2023, 23:29

"Dashing indeed, Miss Alptraum." Howard said in a mock posh accent as the pair tied handkerchiefs around their faces. The part debonair, part bandit look served the two darklings well. While perhaps not the best of friends, the pair had shared quite the adventure over the summer that had left them much more than acquaintances. Such an experience had a way of forging a bond. He was glad to have her company to dig deeper into the mystery at hand. While most may look to the forest with a sense of despair, Xailah perhaps shared an attraction to the darkness that Howard had always harbored. Not to mention a sense of humor as well. He snorted under his handkerchief at her joke. "Nice one."

However, as Howard met Xailah's request for gathering the weeds for study with an increasing sense of curiosity, it would seem that Opeila was a tad more cautious. With a bit of side eye the Slytherin would question the intention. "No harm in a little observation, yeah?" He offered an opinion. Perhaps these new weeds could prove useful in a potion or maybe the ooze had some healing component yet unknown or maybe it would kill them instantly... "But let's be careful, yes." The caution did seem to spread. Opeila was more than likely the voice of reason they needed not to get too ahead of themselves.

The group would continue on a ways and with each step they took the little pet in Howard's breast pocket squirmed a bit more. "Calm down, Gary." He whispered to his faithful companion, but it would seem the other pets too were beginning to protest. As the forest began to swallow the light around them one of the felines would hiss as the weird weeds became more abundant. "Yeah, something's off." Howard agreed. "Gary is freaking out over here."
Xailah would command her cat to leave and it seemed it was time to take this all a bit more seriously. The Pygmy Puff would protest for a moment, but a one way ticket out of the forest proved too tempting to pass.

Soon enough their little posse would find themselves a spot that was littered with the growths. The stench was even beginning to permeate Howard's handkerchief. Even more so when Opeila plunged a syringe into one of the pustules in an attempt to extract more ooze. He would drop to his knees again as he examined another one of them, but as soon as he lowered his face he would catch a scent he knew all too well. The others would begin discoveries of their own, but his crimson eyes would bulge with shock as he cut into the weed. He lowered his makeshift mask and the stench caused him to dry heave, but one thing he knew for sure as he breathed in the fumes. There, under the smell of decay, was smell of blood.

It would be in that moment that the group began to realize that this was no longer an innocent delve into a seemingly safe mystery. Howard's eyes would shift from the blood filled growths to Xailah as she let her words of sorrow slip. He too was about to voice a warning, but all that would escape Howard's lips was a blood curdling scream of agony.

The branch tore through his midsection as the scene around him descended into chaos. There was shouting, fire, a burst of red mist as his vision blurred in and out of focus. The pain was so immense he could barely hold on. Panic, fear and despair filled him as he looked to his wound. Howard would surely die. He knew it as the wicked branch began to pull him away. Part of him wished to roll over and let it all go. Anything to be rid of the terrible pain that was consuming his body. He had been here before. On the verge of death as he felt his life slipping away. Though on the fateful night he would awake reborn, Howard knew this moment now would be his true death. With all of the strength he could muster, the dhampir would lash out against the branch and break free from his bind.

With a thud he would fall forward, the pain still threatening to black him out, but fight or flight was a powerful feeling and in this case, Howard would chose both! He began to crawl forward, away from whatever evil was behind him, but he would only find more. Xailah seemed to be in combat with some horrid figure that had burst forth from these wicked grounds. Opeila was a woman possessed as her eyes began to bleed and were whited out as she washed some psychic battle. And Clark...was eating the goddamned weeds! Perhaps he too had succumbed to an evil presence in his mind. Through it all, Howard would hear Xailah's instructions. Heal...run...

With shaky hand he would retrieve his wand from his pocket and attempt to cast. "Ferula." If the gods still had any love for the young man a bandage would wrap around his wounded midsection, if not he would still carry on towards the shelter before him. Sure, it was on fire, but even that seemed safer than facing the horrors around them. Not even the charging elk that somehow blasted a war horn could keep him from crawling towards death or safety. The next moment would decide which.

Action: Attempting to cast Ferula on self
Movement: Attempting to approach spooky treehouse

Post 10 | Opeila

Reducio

Opeila Winters wrote: 21 Oct 2023, 00:31

@Xailah Alptraum @Howard White @Clark Baird @Jack Warren

Opeila watched the older girl when she explained what she intended to do with the plans and gave a simple nod after she had finished and Howard also added his opinion. It wasn't like she necessarily believed that Xailah would do anything dangerous with their findings, but she would still ask questions. "That's a good idea." Another thought made her add "You think something might happen with them when you set them on fire or freeze them?"

Xailah's question about Jack Warren made Opeila turn for a moment, suddenly she felt just a tiny bit tense. "Warren? Thankfully I haven't..." Some years had passed since, but the only time she really talked to the Hufflepuff had resulted in a punch to his face and her hand breaking from the the attempt. While she didn't really know what he was like nowadays, she could think of quite a few people she'd rather hang out with.

Loras' hissing was nothing too special. The tabby was a rather mistrusting character on his best days, so his reaction to the foul smelling weeds hadn't unsettled the Slytherin much at all- that was until Xailah pointed it out and suggested that they left their furry friends behind. The Gryffindor's cat seemed like a calmer animal, but he too didn't seem to be to find of the plants around them. "...Do you think something is off?" Opeila would glance around with furrowed brows before looking down at her cat again. "Stay here, Loras. No, no- stay.", she repeated when the cat attempted to stay by her side.

The more time passed, the more Opeila was convinced that she was putting herself at risk by staying with this group. Or no, maybe not- more like the group was putting itself at risk as a whole by letting Clark stay. The child was crazy. And not crazy in a 'kids be dumb sometimes' way, but in a dangerously stupid with one brain cell kind of way. Thankfully she didn't seem to be alone with this thought as she met Xailah's gaze and returned the smile, though a little nervously.
"Don't jinx it...", was all she would comment, although her insides seemed to twist uncomfortably at Xailah's words. Opeila had seem too much death and revived dead ones to be able to laugh about it.

When the group settled, Opeila's doings didn't go unnoticed for long. The needle (a simple sewing needle, not a syringe, Opeila did not have access to this kind of tool) was enough to puncture the red blister, allowing her to drain the liquid. With a mildly amused smile she turned to Xailah upon hearing her own question being thrown back at her. "I can be dangerously curious too, you know?", she joked, but then added more seriously "I want to give some of these to Professor Regan. Maybe these are useful for potions, but I'd probably blow something up before finding out anything about it."

She only put a stopper into the third vial and started to pull up the roots- what was attached to the roots?!- when she saw Clark. What was he- "No, no, NO-!" The fifth year got to her feet, intending to run over to that absolute brainless idiot of a kid someone had allowed to enter the forest, when something hit her. Opeila froze in place, but even if she could have moved, she would probably have been too terrified to do so. Something seemed to push her away inside her own body, take over, something that Opeila didn't even begin to understand. Which meant that she could not fight it, even less when the pain struck her out of nowhere.

Had she been in control of her own body, she would have screamed. But instead she was stuck, a spectator inside her own mind, controlled by some other force. Blood ran down her face like tears, dripping onto the ground, onto the roots, no longer separable from the liquid inside them. A voice cut through the pain and Opeila reached for it, trying to hold on to the words, as she had lost everything else. Vladimir?

Could he hear her? Could she at least... communicate with the voices inside her head?
Her hands moved by themselves, her lips moved without permission, forming commands to the others. Her body, whatever force controlled it cast an explosion spell at a tree, making it burst into flames and left something... horrific. Was that a house? What lived inside it?

The forest seemed to come to life. Thorny brambles and stones lashed out at Xailah and herself, making the loss of control scarier than before. Opeila felt every move, so she would feel every attack that would hit her. Whatever controlled her, if it changed its mind and stopped protecting her, she was screwed.
Run? Run where? she would respond to Vladimir's voice. What is this?

She was thrown to the ground to evade another attack. Out of the corner of her eye she could see someone on the ground- there was no running. At least not for some of them. If you can, please help us! I will owe you! A desperate move, but one she wouldn't think about twice if that meant that no one would die here. She would stare at the monster that had crawled out of the ground, a word on her tongue that she couldn't say out loud. No activating the mark she could call help with.

And then there was help- but not even close to what she had thought of. An elk rushed past her- had Vladimir somehow managed to get the wildlife to protect them? But then Xailah shouted a name. Jack Warren was an animagus?

Equipment: Wand, Gardening Gloves, Pruning Shears, Trowel

Action: Attempts to activate her Binding Mark, asking Vlad for help

Post 11 | The Narrator

Reducio

The Narrator wrote: 22 Oct 2023, 05:42

Reducio

The Forbidden Forest was 'forbidden' for a reason. It was more than the tangled gnarled roots that seemed to try to trip and snare an unsuspecting traveler, or the long, twisted branches that resembled a witch's fingers clawing at an unforgiving sky. There was this pervasive gloom in the forest, beneath the dark canopy that sealed away the light and muffled the cries for help that might on occasion spring forth from the blackened wood. In truth, the woods were still 'wild', an untamed landscape where all sorts of magical creatures dwelled. A beast is neither bad nor good, they just simply are and they coexist within this magical ecosystem separate from the wizard whom might try to dominate them. In these untamed wilds, the wizard was on par with their environs. They risked more than their dignity by stepping forth into the woods, their blood was worth more than their favor ever could be to the denizens of the forbidden forest.

Yet, that is merely a surface level truth. The woods have a cruel history, from the malfeasance of Quirinus Quirrell who drank the blood of a unicorn to maintain his vitality through the violation of one of nature's purest of animals. He did not know it then, but there was a bane on those lands. On the sites were those majestic creatures were killed, the land was truly blighted. And it was the corruption of this blood stained earth that drew other wretched creatures -- hags, more than one coven in fact, as well as other dark creatures that have not yet revealed themselves.

The hags had assistance reaching the fringes of Hogwarts, a wicked site to settle down but also an abundant buffet within arm's reach. Why anyone would choose to collaborate with these wretched crones was a mystery for another day, an act of misguided benevolence or a cruel and selfish act perhaps. This was a mystery that would never be solved, dead women tell no tales. The hags had been destroyed, their attempt at parturition would fail as the great annelids that had taken up residence in the heads of more than one student were either evacuated and slain or in one tragic case, the neophyte hag was destroyed.

In the time since their passing, their dark magic continues to linger in these woods as does the terrible legacy of those slain unicorns that had been ravaged in the deep darkness those years ago. It has been said that the forest itself has become corrupted, that the forest seeks the blood of innocents to slake an unrelenting thirst. The dead forest that unmoved still. The dead forest that is rife with superstition and cautionary tales to keep children where they ought to be - safe in their beds.

@Jack Warren

Jack Warren was a slave, not to a master with whip and chain. Not to his own desires even. He did not know, he did not want, he simply did. Compelled by an unseen force, each night he was driven from the warmth and the safety of his bed.For reasons unknown to him, he would grip the shaft of a shovel. Where did he even find that shovel? He would then haunt the grounds, not just Hogwarts proper but also places his home. It was not every night that his blade would breech the earth, but many mornings when dawn broke another hole would be found on the grounds. He would not know, he would hardly even remember if he was ever aware that he had dug up some sort of treasure.

What he did not know. What he did not realize was that there was something calling him. Something in the earth, sins forever buried that screamed for release. It was never a pet cemetary that called him. It was bones -- long bones, little carpals, even larger and more easily recognized flat bones. He was not there to collect, just to reveal. The scavengers would collect. He was not a scavenger, he was a worker. They would be gone, but when, who and even more importantly why. He was not privy to that answer, he only knew the ache in his back, the fatigue in his arm and the lack of rest the nocturne offered.

Time did not change much for Jack Warren. He was older, taller, stronger, but he had not grown. His relationships with others were fractured. He was agitated. He was alone. His hands calloused, his arms so strong. Shame he had nothing to hold any longer.

He had been summoned by Xailah's call, not by the dark will that roused him from his bed at night. To the forest for an afternoon of gardening. Wow, he was really reduced to this. Yet a chill would course through him once he traversed the threshold of the forbidden forest. The sixth sense that screamed turn away would go ignored as he ventured further. A length of cherry wood in hand, the illuminated tip lit the way. The shadows seemed long and unnatural. Did they move of their own accord or was that a trick of the eye?

He would stumble upon this terrible scene: of a risen creature made of twisted bone and wood. The stench of old blood in the air and a forest that was lashing out at his peers. The forest was in an upheaval. A creak from behind, the great oak would bend and bow, a splintering snap of the wood and a great spike of sharpened wood, like a stake would be thrust into the back of Jack Warren.

Forest attacks Jack Warren (spike of wood)
Attack (Forest): 25 + 1d20 (9) Hit
Evasion (Jack): 18 + 1d20 (9)
500 damage -- 200 health remaining

He knew no fear (Fearless), but he knew pain. A spike of wood would emerge through the other side of his chest, puncturing a lung. He would feel more than pain, he would feel his lung start to fill with blood. It was hard to breathe, as if he was breathing through a puddle of water. The limb would rise and would attempt to take Jack with it into the depths of the forest.

Jack Strength Save (Dc 25)
Strength 12 + 1d20 (14)

With a sickening squelching noise, Jack would grip the limb and tear the massive length of wood from his own breast. Soaked in blood, he would find blood running down his torn shirt and stain the earth before him. He did not have the luxury of time, he needed to act and perhaps a primal portion of the teen would take over. His body would twist and contort in response to the horror. From his head, a massive pair of antlers, his bipedal form hunkered over as foot and hand became hoof and pressed into the ground. Pale flesh to fur. He would charge this blighted amalgamation of sticks and bones.

Jack Warren attacks the forest creature with an Antler (Claw) Attack.
Attack: 5 + 4
Evasion: 20 + 1 (critical failure)
Present health is 700 (Due to new form)

Jack's arrival was... unexpected, as was the great horns that would ram into the back of this monstrosity. This... thing the was animated by some unknown form of dark magic. His horns would rip into the strange monster, the snap of bone and wood, the scent of old, decayed meat minged with rosemary, tansy, lavender, carnation, and feverfew -- a foul miasma. There was a vaguely human expression, the features drawn into a scowl. It would attempt to backhand the teen.

The Wood and Bone creature attempts to backhand (Elk) Jack.
Attack: 25 + 1 Miss
Evasion: 13 + 16

The massive creature would rear back, and narrowly avoid the blighted hand of his would-be assailant. The hand would strike the trunk of a tree and at it did so, the bark would become black -- this was necrosis. Necrosis is death, the sapping of life from what was once living. Hunks of the blackened tree would spray, leaving a dark gash in its wake.

Jack had been the victor in this moment of melee. On a stage of flame and blood, Jack has entered the fray. The blight now suffered what would have been a mortal wound for a normal man. A gap where the heart should have been. Jack could see the flames spreading behind it.

10% chance of Jack catching flame. 98 No Flame
10% chance that the wood and bone creature catches flame. 87 No Flame

@Xailah Alptraum

For perhaps want of company but lacking standards, Xailah would find herself in the company of those she barely knew. She knew of them, she had shared space or even class with some of them. Why she had decided to ally herself with undependable semi-strangers, was a mystery not even she could answer. Equally perplexing, the menagerie they had taken with them. Domestic companions were hardly equipped for adventuring. Well, this was hardly an intended adventure, this was scientific inquiry in a place that had forbidden in a name. And yes, Grindr is a "friendship app."

There was something terrible wrong with these plants. The animals knew it. They did not devour them. In fact, they were unsettled by them. The plants that bled. The plants that screamed. Plants that smelled of rot and death. Nature or hellish demon took no lesson in subulty, these plants were obviously bad.

Note: Letting Xailah remove Schrödinger from the thread.

She would warn Baird that the cacophony that escaped his lips would merely obfuscate the sounds of what they needed to hear. That the discordance could wake the dead and how close to the mark she was.

The suspicions would stack one upon the other. The deep, thick root systems -- mushrooms do not have root systems like this. The meaty, fibrous stalk and the pomegranate-like cap. There was resistance as she pulled the tuber from the forest floor, like pulling a sapling from the ground. Had that mushroom been a little larger, perhaps she would not have been able to so casually yank that growth from the ground.

They had not been growing that long. Xailah had been in the forest proper weeks earlier, and these fungi were not here then. Nor were they here months before that. Seasons past. This was the first time these particular peculiar plants had sprouted. A fact she had confided with her party. She had been here before. That these plants were new. They had proliferated over a short span and had spread into the grounds. A fact that could have been guessed by some, but she offered casual confirmation.

That was before it happened. What was supposed to only happen in the dead of night, on the darkest night of all Bound in some sick, strange way to the lunar cycle, life had just betrayed one of the few laws it had until now always abided by. Something had changed, the light of day no longer meant that it was safe. They had fed the forest, giving them a taste and now the forest hungered for them.

She would see Howard get slashed. The spirit take Opeila. Fire shoot from her wand, the incantation in her own voice but not her tone. The power was indeed, unlike the power Opeila would be known for. Her duelling chops well-witnessed, the incendiary arcane blast would burn away at the mushrooms with crackling urgency. Revealing a glamor of sorts. An illusion, a veil now lifted. A twisted hovel in the heart of the forest, now ensconced in flame. A chorus of screams, from the inflamed forest. The radiant heat and thick smoke would make it hard to breathe.

10% chance for Xailah to catch flame. 87 No flame

She would come upon the macabre revelation at the genesis of battle -- they were fighting on a graveyard. Only a graveyard has headstones, dignified burials. Graves were a site of eternal rest. Of remembrance and of mourning. This was no grave, this was a dumping ground. Where chicken bones and garden scraps come to rest. That was it right - sloppy, disgraceful hags. That would align with all the stories that portrayed these wretches, vile, needlessly theatric maniacs' that ate children. Never depicted as a true threat despite the fact that wizards are not the top of the food chain as far as hags are concerned.

Sometimes we get things wrong.

Not a grave. Not a dumping ground. No, it was so much worse. It was a womb. As Howard bled crimson fuel, the strange bone and wood monstrosity was blooming. They did not know it, how could they. The souls, yes plural were planted. Such wretched, wicked monstrosities. Blood to birth, the twisted and terrible form Marion had been paid with to give Holmwood his freedom. Blood from two mothers, there was not one but two. A hag never does anything for free.

Jack would find the heart of the forest because all paths blazed by him or followed would lead to the same place. His transformation, if a secret before this day, would no longer go unnoticed. The elk would barrel towards the monster, fearless, reckless and of course a bit stupid.

Xailah would try to warn him. Warn them. She knew to an extent the threats that they were about to face. That the forest kept what entered and that it would not release them willingly.

Xailah looked for a way out.
Wisdom DC 15
Roll: 16 + 8 Success

Xailah can escape next post or re-roll for escape at a later time, the escape debuff will stack..

Forest Shifts (+5 to check) - need to succeed a wisdom check (20) to make your way out one time to escape the forest or use another method of escape. This check must be done on the same round as the escape.

But the forest moved of its own accord. The path that they once took was hidden behind the brambles. The trees were shifting. The roots were walking. Jack Warren had arrived from the wrong damn direction. Everything was being twisted around. Left was no longer left, but it was not right either, it was somewhere in-between. Yet Xaiah saw the way through the shifting chaos.

Brambles Attacks Xailah
Attack: 10 + 1d20 (2) Miss
Evasion 17 + 1d20 (9)

The blackened, gnarled plants would stretch out. The curled, claw like thorns would attempt to wrap around Xailah's arm but she would snap her arm away just in time. The forest appeared to have a life of its own and now that it was also aflame, it was in pain.

Stone attacks Xailah
Attack: 10 + 1d20 (8) Misses
Evasion 17 + 1d20 (17)

A stone would burst from the ground and attempt to skewer the girl but she would again move clearly out of the way. How long was she going to be able to last? Her friends were not as fortunate -- Jack had hit hard, pierced by that enraged tree limb. If he returned to his human form, he would be on the cusp of unconsciousness. Howard was treating his wounds, but he was far from safe. Now that he entered the hovel, he was out of sight.

@Clark Baird

The part goblin was absolutely oblivious. Why he had decided to bring a fork was beyond mortal logic. Yet the tines of his fork would pierce the ivory and scarlet speckled flesh, a prong piercing a blister. The foul liquid would drip from the tuber like forbidden gravy. A shriek from the living growth, the acrid morsel would enter his glutinous maw.

The flavor, like aged meat soaked in fermented, unsweetened juice on a bed of decayed brussel sprouts. His stomach would immediately revolt, his gag reflex triggered but there was no evacuation of the source of his discontent. A cramping sense, whatever he had eaten the past two days would start to crawl up the back of his throat and escape in a torrent of bitter, burning liquid. Everything he had eaten the two days prior to that would end up attempting to escape the erm... other end.

As if there was no literary cue that it would be a regrettable culinary adventure. He would experience dark-age level food poisoning.

Clark is suffering from a poisoned condition. Disadvantage on all evasion and all actions.

He would notice a bone, another shout of from the universe that this place was very bad.

As the forest came to life and started to assail his fellow adventurers he did not flee and he did not fight. Rather, he turned to the ground potentially blanketed in vomit and unrealized regret. he would crouch and resume consuming the very poisonous fungus. The vomit-laced rotten flavor would renew the internal intestinal revolt, worsening his condition severely. Painful cramping, powerful heaving, there was only stomach acid and... now blood? Yes, blood left inside. A spray of blood-streaked stomach acid would spray the forest floor in a cone before the almost teen.

Constitution Check DC 30
Stamina 7 + 1d20 (5) Poisoned
Clark is suffering from 200 HP loss (due to blood loss) per round.
500 Health Remaining

Whilst the boy gorged himself, the forest would continue to burn. The air growing black with smoke, he made no attempts to flee, to defend himself or his friends. The forest continued to blaze on, the fire spreading. The path out, unseen and unknown. The forest cloaked in myconid screams.

10% chance for Clark to catch fire. 23 No Flame

Fortune smiled on Clark inexplicably. He was able to avoid the worst of the fire thus far by seeming luck alone. Seemingly irrelevant, he sang Princes of the Universe, by Queen.

@Howard White

Howard was at one time an unremarkable boy. And while he now saw himself as something different, as something "other" he seemed to find like in Xailah. This weeding excursion had gathered a small crowd, a bemused collective that wished to learn more. Like Xailah, he had elected to bring his pet pygmy puff on this little foray into the forest.

It started as a somewhat pleasant naturalistic excursion. No threat of violence. No romantic undertones. No posturing before some bully or egotist. Just a chance to get his hands dirty and banter with acquaintances. Sure, the situation could have been better. The putrid scent released by these strange plants was unpleasant but so wasn't sunlight to a dhampir.

Something was off. Xailah had released Schrödinger from her side and Howard would do the same with Gary. The small, fluffy pygmy puff would scurry away just moments before chaos was unleashed.

Note: Letting Howard remove Gary from the thread.

What would have been a tedious, odorous chore, became his nightmare. A scream, not the cacophony of screeches from the plants but his own. The pain was all-consuming and only served as herald for what was to come. It was pure chaos - Clark had gone mad eating the weeds, Opeila was possessed by something and crying tears of blood, Xailah was somehow fine, and when did Jack get here? Not that he had any time to address the fellow Hufflepuff, he had already transformed into a elk and had charged the creature made of bone and wood.

There was not much Howard could do unless he wanted to bleed out in the Forbidden Forest right then and there. Wand in hand, pressed against his sternum he would cast Ferula. Better known as the bandaging charm, a burst of clean bandages would erupt from the tip of his wand and wrap around his midsection. Tight and clean, his would feel his breath constrict but there was comfort in the firm hold, like a powerful woman's touch.

Howard cast Ferula
Roll: 0 + 20 Critical Success

His bleeding would cease completely. The thick padding of the bandages (due to the crit success) would also confer a minor benefit -- 10% damage reduction from non-psychic damage.

He would be able to rise to his feet, but he chose to crawl. Lower to the ground perhaps. Beneath the choking smoke. He could either flee, find his way out of the engaged wood that was lashing out at him, or he could delve deeper. To seek refuge in the ominous hovel that was hidden behind a glamor.



Was this where they lived. The crones. The women who made promises but never followed through. They abandoned him, made hollow promises and threatened to do more than undermine his ego. The threat of death, curse and deformity defined his years at Hogwarts.

And so, Howard would crawl inside one of the darkest, most inhospitable places in the forbidden forest. Inside this hut, he would find a single room large enough to house three uncomfortably, but none had been there in some time. A cauldron in a cold hearth, countless jars of strange ingredients. The walls were covered in murky shadows and cobwebs hung from the ceiling. There was no light, less the crimson glow from the burning forest and the scarlet spores hung aloft in the darkness. The dim light illuminated the room, giving off an eerie glow and revealing a handful of wooden cupboards and shelves, filled with mysterious books, bottles, and other strange curiosities he would not have the time to investigate.

Outside, his friends would die. But this would serve as moment of confirmation. Indeed, there was something here. Someone was here, but they were now gone. He would be faced with another threat, there was something moving in that building. Perhaps it was not quite so abandoned after all.

A skittering noise, the sound of something scratching the floor, inside the walls. A mouse? No, too large for a mouse. No, something else. It was in the shadows, no it was the shadows. Spiders, a swarm of them inside the house. As they broke away from the darkness, it would become obvious that these were not shadows, they were actual spiders.

The swarm would lunge at Howard.

Swarm attacks Howard White.
Attack 20 + 1d20 (9) Hit
Evasion 18 + 1d20 (10)
200 damage done Poisoned: has disadvantage on all rolls for 3 rounds. 500 health remaining.

They would bite him and he would expect his arm to become black as it had with the curse perhaps, but it would not turn black but rather red and inflamed. These spiders were venomous and their bite paralytic, just they are not able to inject a sufficient quantity to leave him fully paralyzed. He would still feel a weight in his arms and his legs. A slowness in his movements. A strange stiffness that moved through his body quickly.

These spiders were not ordinary house spiders - the size of dinner plates, they were aggressive and seemed undeterred by the fact that Howard was so much larger than they were.

@Opeila Winters

There was something 'off' about these woods. The animals already knew, the unsettling nature of the forbidden wood alone was not enough to make the beast restless, but on this day, there was something different. Something wrong. Like Howard and Xailah, she left her pet behind.

Note: Letting Opeila remove Loras from the thread.

Opeila also realized, perhaps a bit too late that Clark was more a liability than a boon. That singing could wake the dead. It very well might have. The forest would spring to life, and the forest was not nurturing or kind. The forest would beat and thrash, it would reach out and attempt to snatch the, drag them away.

Something took over Opeila's body. Something powerful, potentially sinister. Something that told her to run.

Run? Run where?

"Anywhere but here!"

The voice urgent, desperate. To the castle. To Hogsmeade. To the lake. To the grounds. To someplace known, open.

What is this?

"It didn't work. They knew. We played into their hands."

The ground below her feet would split open and a snarp stone would attempt to impale Opeila's leg.

Stone attacks Opeila
Attack: 10 + 1d20 (19)
Evasion 11 + 1d20 (19)
500 damage -4 to evasion due to injury duration of thread 500 health remaining

Like a broadsword, a long, jagged spear of stone would stab through her calf. She would feel the sudden, jarring pain and see the spurt of blood escape her leg. It had hit an artery. A pool of blood prevented only by the presence of the broken stone serving as a crude cork to keep the blood inside.

"Get out of there before you all die!"

"If you can, please help us! I will owe you!"

A promise made out of desperation. But they had traveled far from the safety of the castle. Far from the open grounds. Under a canopy of trees, nobody could see this brutal melee nor could they hear their screams. At best, the smoke from the fire Vladimir had made Opeila set would send a small stream of smoke into the air.

"You're too far. I will never get there in time."

Vladimir enters 3 rounds (not that you guys would be standing)

The forest continued to burn. The heat and the smoke left the scene in a terrible haze.

10% chance for Opeila to be set on fire. 55 No Flame.

Her stubbornness on this day might get her killed.

The brambles would lash out at Opeila once again.

Brambles attack Opeila
Attack: 10 + 1d20 (11) Miss
Evasion 11 + 1d20 (15)

Had they made their mark, Opeila would have been rendered unconscious and the forest would try to take her. She would raise her arm, unable to control her own movement still and the voice inside of her head finding that his control over her form was limited by her physical ability. It would do the one logical thing it could think of --
"They are over here!"

There was no 'they' to speak of, but these teens had a death wish. Logic was about as useful as a a pair of ballet shoes for an amputee to them.

Opeila (controlled) looked for a way out.
Wisdom DC 15
Roll: 11 + 1d20 (15) 8 Success

Opeila - you would be running out of the forest, stopping at the forest edge.

Forest Shifts (+5 to check) - need to succeed a wisdom check (20) to make your way out one time to escape the forest or use another method of escape. This check must be done on the same round as the escape.

• Something is controlling Opeila. it is forcing her to run away.
• Nobody but Opeila can hear the voice.
• As an action you can try to overcome the hold. You can talk to the voice for free.
• A dwelling has been revealed, it is however on fire. (No person is on fire yet)
• The mushrooms are screaming
• The forest is attacking (2 thorny brambles and 2 stone attacks per round)
• The trees are attacking (1 per round, very powerful however)
• Something emerged from the ground (it has 1 attack per round)
• There are spiders inside the building (they attack once per round)
• The forest is shifting, each round it will become harder to escape (wisdom checks, 20 DC next round). You will need to think about some part members who wont be able to run.
• Vlad is attempting to enter the thread but that will take 3 rounds.
• If Opeila does leave the forest, it would take her 3 rounds to reach the castle proper to get help and 3 more to return with someone.

Post 12

Reducio

NOTHING