Calming Presence in Effect; All Participants Affected

Piérre flinched as he heard the sound of Romeo's fist crossing Kim's face. He knew the power of the strikes of his brother firsthand: had felt those bone-crushing blows that could break collarbones, that could shatter a nose, that could snap a collarbone. And yet, something about this seemed restricted, seemed pulled aside. Green eyes glimmered in wonder as he realized that his brother was not trying to hurt the boy... at least, he wasn't trying hurt him anywhere near as much as he was capable of hurting him. Romeo was--despite the circumstance--still bringing himself to pull his punches.

Fingers curled around the table that hid him mostly from sight, Piérre's brows creased in wonder as he watched the legs of the party shuffle themselves about in their acts of passion. His brother was acting oddly, too aggressively than what could be considered normal for him. Yes, Romeo had his moments of passion, as many young men around their ages were apt to do when they felt they had been slighted or had had something to prove, but this was a sort of sudden action that Piérre was not used to seeing in the usually level-headed and often times gentle Romeo that he had come to know so well as a young boy. There was a tenseness in his sibling's stance, a viciousness that wasn't in his nature, an aggressiveness that looked almost as if he were not so much trying to rebuff a threat as much as trying to defend something that he considered his--like he thought that Kim was somehow a threat to some kind of object or possession of Romeo's.

Still, he did not want to move, did not want to risk getting in Romeo's way. If things escalated, perhaps he could go in and try to help reduce or alleviate his brother's wrath, but he did not want to risk getting in Romeo's way right now. If worst came to worst, he could grab Kim and make a quick escape, to take away the seeming 'issue' and then try to figure out what had happened on his own. Curling his knees beneath him and planting his feet, Piérre's form transformed into that of a runner's very quickly--ready to leap, ready to move. His actions would have to be fast if they happened at all, but he was still here to observe, to watch even as Romeo demanded explanation again and Valentin clung to Piérre's twin like he was the only lifeline that he had.

Unconsciously his fingers trailed to his lips, rubbing them softly as his brows creased in concern. His eyes flicked to the sides, glancing about nervously for a moment as he breathlessly waited in baited silence.

Statistics: Stamina 7 | Strength 5 | Evasion 18 | Wisdom 12 | Accuracy 16 | ArcPower 5

Abilities:
Keen Eye | Calming Presence | Beast Master [Cat] | 's Grace | Animagus [Hummingbird]

Items:
[Sharpened] Locksmith's Knife | [Red] Deck of 52 Playing Cards | Soda

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide. Durmstrang Institute's

Romeo Giovanni Marchonné [7'0" | 222lbs]

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

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

Valentin Schnell, Piérre Marchonné & @Kim Sato
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

The followthrough of my strike was a glancing blow, but it still had enough respectable power to knock him back as I took a step forward. There was a look in this punk's eyes, a certain lack of light that one might correlate with the sensation of looking upon one that was soulless: one that did not have a spark of life in them to consider worthwhile enough to preserve. My own eyes narrowed, my gaze did not waver, and as he retorted in an unconvincing tongue that seemed to anticipate for me to take the bait I only felt the coil of rage in me flicker as it continued to smolder deep inside. Whatever he wanted from me, he had not earned it yet; had not earned the right of satisfaction in whatever further outrage he wanted from me. He would have to do better than that, poor showing that such a performance was so far.

"Because I have eyes, jackass." I spat in return, taking another step forward and putting a hand behind me as if to protect Valentin from a sudden advance from this kid. My voice was not raising past a low, calm tone. Perhaps the calmness of it was somehow more terrifying than the words themselves. It was a rational calm, a simmering calm that illustrated a temper actively being controlled. "I'm still waiting for an explanation as to what you thought you were doing... and now on top of that, I want to know why." My hand was still curled at my side, but it was only slightly curled in the form of the bear's paw. There was still a red miasma that lingered in the corner of my sights, streaked with strings of darkness that writhed about like many nightcrawlers fleeing from the light. In a mind that was spinning, that was turning over and over itself like a staggering engine, there was a series of strange sensations that were familiar and yet unwanted as they provoked themselves without my permissions.

Urges to defend, to lash out, to strike and to knock aside anyone that was in my way, and yet these were not for the noble and for the just reasons that I usually believed that they presented themselves for. This was something that was not hate, but something that was not acts of protection. This was... possession. Possessiveness. I detected a threat to myself in the threat that I perceived as being present to Valentin. A threat to Valentin was a threat to me. A threat to the one that I coveted, that I wanted--no, needed--to keep at my side, was one that threatened the core of my self, that dared to assault the very base of all that I held dear.

And as I tipped my head, still waiting for a good reason, for a good explanation, the presence of Valentin became known to me from behind even through the smoking fogs that curled and twisted in night-black nightcrawlers and silvery strands. Valentin's hand wrapping about my trunk cut through the mists like a clear light, like a blade of sun slicing through the fog like a lighthouse or as a sword wielded by Solars of yore.

"I didn't touch him other to get him off of you." I defended myself gruffly, the timbre of Valentin's light and brokenly feeble voice causing further shocks of lighting in the form of light rage to spark through my nerves. What had this kid done? "Don't worry, I'll take care of it. You sit down. You're shaking." I still said firmly yet authoritatively, my eyes having never departed from the younger boy. Heat began to sear through my stomach, electrifying the tightness in my arms as if straining them taut to the point of snapping.

"You two were... kissing. I broke it up." For the first time I felt a cold pulse of worry and second-guessing shudder through me for a moment before it melted again by the same blazing sensation of heat once more. "I was hoping he would explain... if you could explain." My tone upslurred at the end of my last sentence into a query.

It hadn't seemed... normal, at least for what I knew of Valentin even despite his romantic heart and glorious verbalisms.

"So, I say again." A nod to the boy, "Start talking."

Reducio

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 9 | Strength 17 Ω
Ω Accuracy 18 | Wisdom 10 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

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