Closed Subliminal Slugs Open to Durmstrang Only

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Before Valentin had even fully brought himself to his feet, he began to wobble. I slid off the broom even as Greta approached in her gloriously sunshining way, and she would not be alone as a collective of two other quidditch players of ours--Johannes and Astrid--approached in turn. All three seemed to have the same collective thought--what was happening to Valentin..?

And then he crumpled, rolling onto his back as his eyes stared both emptily and fully up at the skies. "I don't know, but I intend to find out...!" But before I could swoop in, Greta was first. I was finding myself wavering on my own feet myself, staggered for a second by taking hold of the Oakshaft still levitating behind me before trying to shake my head and return myself to full awareness again. Greta, sweet Greta, was trying to return Valentin to awareness as his eyes wildly looked about and searched for something that seemed beyond his ability to see.

Everything unfolded too fast for me to comprehend, as Valentin began to moan out a cry between that of a mourn and a croon along with a cryptic string of sentences and a language that sounded like nothing but sibilant song. As the first pangs of a new headache began to split through my mind accompanied by a sour twist in my abdomen, I watched numbly as Valentin took the Valkyrie by the shoulders and guided her down tenderly into a deep kiss that I couldn't help but avert my eyes to between a sudden surge of nausea and an inability to focus on the paleness of the light that reflected off of their combined pastel color palettes. My breaths were coming at half efficiency, catching in my throat and in my lungs before they could fully expand.

Valya... was... from her mouth to her neck he was...

Through a blurring of my sights a dark streak make itself known in the paleness, an undulating streak emerging from the pale rose lips of Valentin and attempting to extend and loop itself around the Valkyrie. Taking a step forward as a dry and soundless "Wait..." creaked from me, my leg went weak for a moment and I staggered back on the broom as my legs both began to shake and my body temperature felt as if it were spiking wildly. Johannes cried out, but I couldn't understand his words as the pastel Greta was ripped away from the pallid Valentin along with the black oozing noose that was her newest piece of jewelry.

Astrid's voice somehow split through the spotting black and the subsequent blurs of motion that were coming from all around, a voice that caught my ear and caused me to slowly look upon her with a mixture of confusion and awe as she was over Valentin's unmoving body--the dark thing emerging from his mouth as my head rang with a high pitched tone that didn't waver in consistency or strength. It was simply in my head... it was a... noise... a pressure behind my eyes. Yes, Valentin's chest wasn't rising and his eyes were rolled back as if preparing for a sieze... I could tell [10 Wisdom + Healing Sage I]... I could... see...

Pressing my palms into my eyes lightly to alleviate the dark spots forming, I tried to muddle through the rising pulse heightening in my ears and the awkward stutter-step in my heartbeat for just a second. Yes... I was... I was the medic here in this circumstance, wasn't... wasn't I...? I was the one who was supposed to know what I was doing here. I did know what I was supposed to be doing here, even in the ringing and the disturbing imagery that was flashing before my eyes and behind my eyelids. Valya had... kissed... Greta... and that... thing... had come out of him in...

I knew what I was doing, right? I knew?

I...

Pulling away my hands from my eyes as the dark spots only seemed to stay the same, I could only blink a few times and take a heavy breath as I saw Valentin on the ground before me still and Astrid in front of me. Johannes had yanked Greta away from Valentin and the thing and Astrid... and me.

Unprompted, my mouth began to water--it was a familiar iron tang that was metallic in the back of my throat and heavy around the tongue, a strange sensation compounded with a heat that was ripping through my core with the pain of waking from a night terror drenched in sweat. Though I wouldn't see it myself, my brow was indeed beading with sweat and I was breathing rhythmically but rapidly. I knew what was happening probably faster than others looking at me--the telltale markers just short of gags indicative of preparing to vomit.

"Astrid..." The word was dry and raw, shaking ever so slightly like my hands as my wide blue eyes stared almost wildly towards the two of them--Valentin and Astrid. It was transforming from a voice of confidence into a whisper. "Astrid..." My legs still seemed to be wobbly, but I felt a strange strength to move--to move forward. To move forward towards Astrid.

'Get away! Run away!' Something was inhibiting my thoughts, my ability to make choices that I would have typically had a greater control over. It was a need. A hunger. Starvation. A thrill to it as well, almost as if mingled with the starvation, the need, the hunger, there was a delight--the feeling of a hunter closing in on the hunted. It was as if I was the mantis, and Astrid was the fly. Slow but certain, motionless but watching for the moment. The very second in which the hunt would end. The very second that she would be mine.

Faster than I could realize it, my large hands lashed out for her, attempting to catch her by the shoulders as one of my legs moved to knock out one of her own after misaligning her balance and then taking it out from her. Valentin was almost completely forgotten in comparison to the much more tantalizing target that was Astrid Olsen. Something heavy was rising up from my core, pressing against and deforming any organ it passed as it rose up my chest--pushing lungs to either side and forcing heart to shift briefly out of place. For Astrid there would be no fanfare as there had been for Valentin to Greta, whatever was twisting the mind of Romeo had taken advantage of a primal nature in him that was not the same as the romantic tongues of Valentin. There was a savagery in the great and often gentle giant that the Durmstrang student body had come to know so well, a deep and terrible violence that had been gifted to him down to the very nucleobases that consisted half of his genetic code that just so happened to carry that magical component of his blood in turn. It was a terrible savagery, a mindless savagery.

In a terrible and unspeakable way that indeed had a very good chance of inducing trauma upon the girl had she not known the boy--or perhaps such knowledge of who Romeo was as a person would make such trauma infinitely worse--the seven foot Italian who was for all intensive purposes a pillar of muscle and quick hand-eye reflexes would attempt to struggle with the much younger and smaller girl in an attempt to force her into a submission grapple, his wildness seeming to be attempting a similar thing as Valentin. His body posture, the stance of pinioning and trying to prevent Astrid from running away from his assault, indicated that he was trying to force upon her a full-bodied kiss. A gag of his caused a splotch of black ink-like substance to splatter upon the ground... and likely much to the horror of the other unaffected and untargeted Durmstrangians another familiar and disgusting creature began to breach from their other captain's lips.

A pair of eyestalks were pulling in and out, with the head of the beast seeming to try to find cover between alternating attack and retreat behind the 'protective' teeth of the Italian. Retching all he might, the monster simply would not come up nor would it return back to the depths of the stomach to which it had been banished to for nearly a year of struggle against the stalwart boy's immune system it had been working so hard to destroy during that span. Simply put, it could not and would not go back. It had come too far and had 'shown its hand' too much to retreat so easily. Now it was a fight for survival, with the mind of this host as one of the few legs up that it had--as it had no legs itself to speak of. It was a curse, after all--a curse with a very curious and winding origin indeed considering how it had gotten into Romeo to begin with.

But this, as it would seem, would not be the top priority for the children being forced to contend with these darknesses. Indeed, the larger question loomed as to if survival was even viable in a situation such as this... Romeo was attempting to claim the lips of Astrid, and Valentin's own abomination was beginning to make its own presence well-known as well.

Action: Attempting to Attack Astrid with a Kiss [Martial Artist Grapple Attack], Slug Emerges

Inventory:
Medical Notebook, True Love's Locket, Oak Wood Beater Bat, Wand, Oakshaft 79 [+4 Acc & Wis]

𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙵𝙸𝚃: Reducio

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▪ 𝙴𝙽𝙲𝚈 ▪ ▪ FELIX ▪ KOLBECK ▪ ▪ DURMSTRANG iNPC ▪ SIXTH YEAR ▪

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𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂: Reducio @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood @Piérre Marchonné @Evelynn Decipio @Astrea Soleil Neptune

As the Swede stepped out of his tent, he adjusted his sherpa-fleece-lined leather jacket. The snug fit of a matching pair of leather gloves helped battle the cold nip in the air. Under his jacket, he was wrapped in a cozy beige sweater, black jeans, and blundstones. Is there any season better than winter for cozy fashion? Felix was in his element, despite the tinge of pink biting at his nose and the tips of his ears.

He had risen later than his other tentmates, remnants of nightmares fading in and out of his memory, like lost pieces of a puzzle that had long since been tossed. He remembered stirring and grumbling in protest when Greta had first gotten up. He had taken to sleeping nearby the small Valkyrie, finding her presence calming. He would often end up curled next to her, though she didn't seem to mind. He thought the scent of wildflowers was a result of the monstrosity of a tent they had ended up in, but it was gone the second time he had woken up, and he... missed it. Ugh, he wasn't sure why, but he was feeling a bit off with her gone.

Felix figured he'd better browse the vendor's shops, because that seemed like the most likely place to track Greta down. She was like a tiny mammal, easily excitable, seemed to like collecting things, and was far too cute for her own good. When he hadn't seen his tentmate he decided to go back, lest he run into George and his mammoth of a boyfriend while he was all alone. He did stop to purchase snow cones, having noticed Greta going through them like a muggle drinking cups of coffee (he had read about their shared addictions in some of his books). He grabbed a green apple for himself and selected blue cotton candy for the blonde, having vaguely remembered something about her and cotton candy ice cream. He didn't know she had purchased a cone likely minutes before him.

Snow cones in hand, he had made his way back towards the tent, only to find it still void of Greta and his other friends. Ugh, those adorable jerks—just who did they think they were hiding from him? Anxiety started to rise in his throat; it wasn't like he was experiencing separation anxiety like some sort of dog, but they had been apart for TOO LONG, so it was only logical that Felix go looking for the lot of them, and in no way a total overreaction.

By the time the Swede had thought of searching for the crew by the bleachers, he had finished his snow cone, a corner of his lip stained green. Greta's was starting to melt, but he was still determined to pass his gift on to her. She had put up with him the last few nights after all, and—

Thunk.

The snow cone spilled through his digits and landed on the ground below, staining the fresh snow a light blue shade. Felix might have been destressed over the loss a few seconds prior, but in the moment, his eyes were glued to Greta and Valentin.

Because they were kissing.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me. You two are sneaking out to make out?" Just why the hell was Romeo there too? And Johannes, and Astrid... Wait, were they playing spin the bottle WITHOUT HIM?? Now Valentin was eyeing Greta up like she was a delicious cupcake. Felix had never seen that look in his eyes before, and it made the pit in his stomach tighten. He took in a shaky breath as he watched his tongue slide across her next... Until it begin to grow inhumanly long—

"... WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?!" The Swede could all but scream before he was whipping his wand out of the built-in pocket in the breast of his coat. He didn't know what sort of fetish Valentin had, kissing a girl after being hit with a slug vomiting charm, but that was no ordinary slug. Slugs were small and cute; this thing was ripped straight from the mind of Lovecraft and looked more like a Gastropod and an eldritch horror had a love child.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" He didn't hesitate to cast the Impediment Jinx at the slug as soon as he had a clear shot of it, his wand cutting through the air in a horizontal straight line.

Reducio

SPELL INFO: (WDC 13, the target is hindered in movement and eventually stopped. –5 Evasion or –5 Accuracy (chosen randomly) every round until both stats become 0, effect automatically wears off the next round after both stats reach 0).

'Do something Ro, he's not breathing! You're basically the paramedic here'

His tunnel vision had him focused on Greta and her alone, but Astrid's words caused him to snap out of it. FUCK! His mind went over the list of spells he knew before practically ordering Romeo, "ROMEO! AIRWAY CLEARING SPELL, ANAPNEO. NOW—" When Felix turned to try and stare over at the older Durmstrang boy, his face paled (yes it was possible).

"What the fuck are you doing?! GET OFF OF HER!" He had to save them all before he had more trauma to fuel his nightmares. "Johannes take Greta somewhere safe and get help!"

Roleplaying as Hans, all dialogue in Russian unless otherwsie stated

Hans loved social events and as one of Durmstrang’s most popular younger students, that fact was a widely known one. But social events with slugs? Not so much. It wasn’t really his thing. He could understand all social events, how to make a crowd fall in love, how to command the attention of a whole room, yet he could not understand the damn slugs. That was only natural, right?

On the topic of not understanding- what the fuck was going on? The day had begun as quite the mundane one, it would end as quite the opposite. For as Hans exited the food tent to make his way over to his fellow Durmstrangs, his brain could not quite process the sight before him. ‘The fuck?’ Was all he could say, the German words coming hurried. Schnell’s mop of albino white hair, gleaming in the high noon sunlight, was what first caught the German’s attention. Yet instead of the previous blissful, careless days of enjoyment they had spent, his body was slack and as Hans closed his distance, he realised that his signature violet eyes had rolled up into his head, his face still as a marble carving. He was not sat, rather his body had leaned over to the side and he had fallen over- their most glorious, world-renowned White Seeker. Yet, all too quickly, his eyes took in the full calamity of the situation. And Greta-

‘Greta!’ He screamed, voice ripping through the chaotic atmosphere, for all of Durmstrang (even the younger juveniles) had grown a protective attachment of their one and only Valkyrie. Although Hans lacked proper interaction with the Fransson child, all that flashed in his mind at the dire moment was her honey gold hair, beams of sun rays in whatever summer zephyrs Durmstrang could offer, her sea-foam eyes suddenly becoming their fjordic reality as the aroma of ocean brine seemed to tickle at his nostrils, her smattering of freckles now a darkened galaxy of dying stars. ‘Greta!’ He said, calling her name once more and then to his upperclassman Johannes, who was hopefully performing some kind of operation of her, ‘What the fuck is happening to her?’ His face blanched in an incredibly out-of-character manner, eyes widening as a undulating figure of slimy tar-black encircled her neck. What is happening?’ He asked again, the question now directed towards everyone instead of just the eighth-year and regarding the whole situation.

Before he could properly register whatever answer might come his way, Hans’ chocolate eyes skipped to that of Astrid’s, another young lady and Schnell’s seeker protégée he regretted not having shared enough time with. She was barely older than Hans himself by two years, if he remembered correctly. Of diminutive height yet blessed with sun-bleached blonde shoulder-length hair and eyes of murky water, there was much more of her to be taken in than mere stature. An innocent soul, youthful as he, a Norwegian lass he imagined to be dancing through the meadows, not deserving to be on the front lines battling abominations as macabre as those that entangled Greta’s neck. ‘Olsen,’ he started, pacing towards her, voice tense, tone taut, ‘Get away-’ before realising the same predicament was landing on her as well. Freezing in his tracks, as if in sync with Felix’s sudden halt to his command of the Anapneo spell, and taking a step back, Hans stared in horror at the sight in front of him, not truly comprehending the scene. ‘Shit,’ he said, shifting to his native tongue as a cocktail of frustration, anger, bafflement, and God knows what washing over him in an instinctive response to the one emotion he detested in his system: fear. He would allow himself to experience any emotion, no matter how strong or ugly, before he could experience fear.

It was happening in front of his own damn eyes. It was happening in front of his own damn eyes. Hans had never truly understood what had happened to his mother. At that moment, he did- almost. Almost. She had never explained to her son what had happened in Durmstrang that had left her traumatised enough to never want to lay her fingers on her wand once more. If he had seen such things (which, surprise, was exactly what was happening this instance!), he surely would have given up on magic. No, fuck it! Hans, the Schafer heir would not be as weak-minded and -bodied as his meek mother. Reinstalling the philosophy of fearlessness into his mind, he took a deep breath and steadied himself. Yet Romeo convulsed in gags, as if he was about to vomit, and perhaps all would be fine (though disgusting) if he churned up his lunch. Instead, one jet Stygian thing (for lack of better word) slithered out of his gaping mouth, dripping with inky goo, its tentacles jerking in search for prey, and Romeo neared Astrid lips in what may seem like a kiss.

Hans barely heard Felix’s screams in attempt to save both Astrid and Greta when realisation smacked the German wizard hard across the face. ‘Are those slugs?’ He said. Raising his voice, he screamed (an action which, if you counted, had been happening for more times than healthy for his throat) once more when his first remark was lost amidst the chaos, ‘ Are those fucking slugs?’ Surrounding him was a battlefield of havoc. Out of the six other Durmstrangs in the stadium, only two were standing and at least physically well if not mentally traumatised, and one was an already deranged emo sixth year who probably wears so much leather that cattle lived in fear. Desperate and without any time to put his mind to any possible strategy (as if Hans did that under normal circumstances though), he hollered to first idea that came to mind, albeit a seemingly inane one that would eventually sound asinine to even his own ears, ‘Get salt, you idiots!’ At that moment, it seemed completely reasonable, for as any schoolboy knew, one excruciating way to torture and kill a slug or snail was to spray salt on its body, draining its systems of water. Callous, perhaps, but nothing compared to the damage the slugs themselves were causing.

‘Get. The. Fucking. Salt,’ He said once more, gritting his teeth as he pulled out his wand. This was no time to sit around and wait for the deus ex machina that will surely never come. They were in a foreign land, at a school some of them barely know, with no professor coming their way, but as the rag-tag group of Durmstrang students, they had themselves, and they certainly could not allow seven legends to go down in such a manner. His hands poised to cast, yet no spell came to mind. There was no way he could remove the slugs without possibly harming Astrid or aggravating the situation, and for once Hans actually stopped and listened to his mind in a dire predicament. Cursing under his breath in frustration, Hans lunged forward towards Astrid as pure instinct took over his body and all traces of fear washed away into a puddle at his feet. He had to act, and he had to act now. His hands grasped at the slugs, the slime revolting in his hands as they dripped onto his sleeve. He was Hans. He was the hero of the story. He would not let anyone die today. Not today. Summer camp (winter camp?) was supposed to be enjoyable, not a death trap. ‘Astrid, don’t move! Trust me.’

Hans was not quite sure he would have trusted himself.


@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood as Valentin Schnell, @Piérre Marchonné as Romeo Marchonné, @Evelynn Decipio as Greta Fransson, @Anastasia Varney as Astrid Olsen, @Astrea Soleil Neptune as Johannes Sauer, @Winnie Harper as Felix Kolbeck

Banner by the absolutely fantastic Winnie Harper/Felix Kolbeck

You'd have to excuse Hans' cursing in this post.

Action: trying to remove Romeo's slugs on Astrid by physical force

Stats: Sta: 8 | Eva: 10 | Str: 5 | Wis: 5 | ArcP: 2 | Acc: 10
Abilities: Fearless + Charmer (opponents defined as Romeo’s slug(s)) | Hp: 800/800
Inventory: wand

Russian‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Swedish‏ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ Norwegian‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ English

Widened eyes struck through with uncertainty continued to search Niffy's features, helpless as she knelt beside him. Fear continued to wrack his features, limbs flailing above. She had wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, to smooth the lines and pull him back from whatever brink he had found himself perched, but she didn't know how. The occasional glance cast itself in Roo's direction, knowing him to be the most educated in the field of healing, but he seemed almost as uncertain as she felt. Delicate hands took one of those waving aimlessly before her, squeezing it as though that would somehow call the seeker back from his fit. "What war..?" she whispered, moisture collecting at the corners of her eyes. "There's no war, Niff.. We're safe here. You're safe." What was he talking about? All that came to mind was their quidditch match that loomed ever nearer, and while they might refer to it as a war in jovial passing, to her it seemed like this was something other.

"Niffy?" His speech had followed that same direction, slipping into incomprehensible mutterings. Wild-eyed, she looked around again, pleading for someone to know what was going on. For someone to be able to help him, and felt at least some modicum of reassurance as Joho knelt beside her. But he didn't do anything. She couldn't do anything. They could only sit there, useless, as their captain continued to speak in tongues, hissing in some sort of effervescent melody, rising with conviction and passion with every passing breath. "What are you saying..?" Tears welled at his eyes. And so they welled at her own, too, as she reached down to brush his away, fingertips tracing gently down his cheek. She knew he wouldn't answer, that he probably couldn't comprehend what she was saying, trapped as he was in this otherworldly state.

"Val..?" Her captain's hands had reached for her, grasping at either of her shoulders, his gaze seeking hers with a deliberation that could have been mistaken for lucidity. For all its intensity, however, it was just.... too much. She felt suddenly quite small. So very, very small. His violet irises, contrasted sharply by pupils dilated far past any point of reason, kept her pinned in place, her soul sucked into the depth of their void. She couldn't look away. Every nerve in her body sparked, skin tingling across her arms and up her back. Never had anyone looked at her quite like he gazed upon her in that moment. Logic would dictate that it wasn't her that he was seeing, that he was caught in some phantasmal vision of his mind's creation, but logic was few and far between when it came to matters of the heart, and while hers had never been for him, that didn't stop the palpitations from knocking on her bosom or the flush from rising to her cheeks.

Brows rose all the more, her fragile form easily swayed towards him as he pulled her into a hug, worry contending with a newfound confusion. Only moments before, he had seemed ready to cast farewells upon the breeze, fading quickly into the veil. And now... she had no idea what was happening. Her mind was muddled. And why was it so hot? It couldn't be from Valentin. Hands that lifted to tentatively return the embrace--restrained with the thought that somehow his actions seem to be done in error and that she was taking advantage of a hallucination to enjoy an embrace from their Captain--found him almost cool to the touch. Were the enchantments cast upon the stadium failing then? She almost felt the need to pluck at her chemise to circulate the air. Her palms padded lightly on his back, hoping to pat the get-wellness back into him, uttering with renewed hope, "Are... are you feeling better?"

He had pulled back then, and she smiled at the brush of soft lips upon her jaw. Pecks weren't entirely abnormal. They weren't commonplace in most of Norway, of course, but in many of the Slavic countries, a peck or three upon a cheek was quite the norm. In fact, she had taken it as an affirmative to her question, a sign that he was indeed feeling better and perhaps this sudden collapse was just a passing ailment. A fainting spell. Relief coated the relaxed blue-lipped smile that hazarded to make an appearance, shoulders softening in his grip. She turned to peer at him, every intention to express the spreading warmth of solace at his apparent improvement in condition, but she wouldn't have the chance. An entrancing flutter of a deep gaze caught her own, fixing her once more in place as though he were a basilisk and she now turned to stone.

"WhMmnph--" Fingers curled at his shoulders, half holding him, half trying to maintain some sort of proper distance as he swiftly closed it to press his lips to hers. Eyes flashed wide, a fresh wave of confusion contorting what little of her expression may have been visible from around the halo of white locks that crowned him. She couldn't understand. Couldn't even form thoughts. In that moment, all she could concentrate on was the feel of his lips against hers, soft and tender in their touch, but with an urgency that sent her spinning. Her heart hammered in her chest, face flushing scarlet. What was even happening.. Sure, it wasn't the first time she had kissed a boy, but those times had been during silly little games and everyone else was also doing it. This.... this was NOT THAT. Had he always felt this way about her? How had she not known?! Granted, it wasn't like she hadn't seen how beautiful he was, or admired the way he had with words and how gracefully he could put each and every one of them at ease with little more than a look. But her thoughts had never fantasized what it would be like to kiss him. Okay, maybe they had, but never seriously. In fact, she could have sworn the relationship he had with Roo was something a little more than just platonic camaraderie. Had he been holding this from her this whole time??

"Wh-" She tried to pull her head back, to question his motives and where this was coming from, but found her retreat barred by a caressing pressure to the back of her head. What was more, her attempt to speak had invited an entirely unexpected twist as a slippery appendage moved forward between her lips. THIS WAS NEW TERRITORY, HELP! Rising panic made her freeze, the sheer incomprehensibility of the moment coupled with the complete shattering of the image of her first French Kiss being shared with Niche Theo that Castelobruxo boy The Wolf PRINCE CHARMING beneath a starry night sky at the cusp after a breathlessly romantic night of dancing SHATTERED. Her mouth watered, figure melting into the embrace whether she intended for it or not, and she found herself responding, lids fluttering shut.

Until... she coughed, a faint grimace flecking across her features. Descriptions of fantasy and romance always painted moments such as this in such a flowery haze, bliss blotting out everything else in the world. It never described how wormy it felt, or how grotesque the sensation of slimy prodding at the back of her mouth. She almost wanted to gag, disgust on her features suggesting as much to anyone who happened to be watching. Was it always like that? Or maybe it was just the lump that had risen earlier to her throat that made it feel like she was choking on her own saliva? She was still chewing on the filmy sort of mouthfeel and returning to the material plane as he retreated. Her head twisted to the side, shoulders shrugging up reflexively as his tongue swiped across her neck and elicited a squirming squeak.

"That tickles!" Greta was fairly well returned to her post-kiss lucid state of mind, hands reaffirming their own grip upon Valentin's shoulders in an effort to push herself away from him. Even with the seeker as slight of build and frail of illness as he was, however, it would do her no good. And suddenly, something didn't feel quite right. Even as she fidgeted and squirmed in his continued embrace, the touch of his tongue continued to undulate and move across the vulnerable flesh of her neck, chilled prickling following in its wake. But there was no way his tongue was that long. It extended around the back near the base of her skull, pushing and tugging at her hair, then coiling about the other side. "Niffy, stop. Let go of me." By this point, she'd had enough. Squirming turned to struggles, as instinct prompted a rise of adrenaline and red flags that something was not right.

"... WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?!"

Koby's voice sliced through the air towards her. Somewhere between the now and then, others had arrived. Wild eyes turned in his direction, head craning from her compromised position, eyes filled with a singular plight for rescue. Renewed concern continued to rise, this time for her own safety rather than the captain's. Her pulse quickened. Movements became more pronounced. And then all hell broke loose. In a matter of seconds, Niffy went slack against her, nearly pulling her down with him. His hands went slack at his sides, and as his head rolled back into view, she could only see the whites of his eyes. The feeling of something around her neck strengthened, completing its circle. Voices shouted around them. Hands, different hands, pulled her back. And she was vaguely aware of a spell being cast. But it was the look of their pale seeker suspended inches from the ground, limp and unresponsive with a giant tarry pulsating worm like thing extending from his mouth to tighten about her throat that tipped her over the edge.

It was all well and good to tell someone not to scream, but that only works if the target had any shred of rationality remaining. Greta did not. Panic gripped her, survival instinct kicking in against this unknown horror. A shrill scream ripped through the chill air as she redoubled her efforts to escape its hold. "GET IT OFF!" Hands scrabbled at the slick surface of the monstrosity, trying to find purchase to rip it free, or at least loosen it enough to hastily gulp down at air. "HELP ME, PLEASE!" She leaned back, legs thrashing against the ground, supplication punctuated by panicked sobs. "I DON'T WANT TO DIE. PLEASE." Tears streamed down her face, inconsolable fear riddled through her features. "KOBY!"

As the limp body of their captain dangled by the huge mass lodged in his throat, the slug’s muscular nature grew apparent from its disregard of the heavy burden while blithely continuing to encircle Greta’s neck. Others were not so calm about this turn of events, however. While the actions of Romeo, Astrid, and Hans were playing out nearby, the struggle over Greta’s neck began to unfold.

Johannes was the first to react, cursing and insisting for Greta not to scream and keep her mouth closed by – of course – opening his mouth to tell her this. This loud intervention turned the slug’s head toward him as Johannes came into range. The lovely punk pulled at Greta and tried to squeeze his hand between the Stygian horror and the girl’s throat. Short slim eyestalks undulated in Johannes’s direction, moving independently of each other and rippling with tense sinew along with the waving of its lower sensory tentacles. Yet, however fervently he tried to pull Greta out of the creature’s clutches, all Johannes managed was to cover himself in incredibly slippery ooze. d20:+2 = 22 -1 =21 ACC – MISS! The viscous flesh writhed under his attempt to grasp it, glinting like wet gunmetal as it slipped and flailed. This was certainly one way to attract its attention, and immediately the slug took a fancy to this daring newcomer. Surely he would make a fine host.

Flickering waves of the slug’s foot swept the creature up the arm wedged against Greta’s neck, leaving a pitchy trail behind that would prove difficult to remove. A strange fragrance wafted from the slug that was warming with the touch of hot human skin. This sweet, almost intoxicating fragrance resembled that of white tuberose flowers tainted with a strangely enticing burnt marshmallow aroma, altogether evoking a sort of floral crème brûlée. This deranged blob of a perfumer’s hunger-induced psychedelic fantasy prodded Johannes’s arm with its sensory tentacles, tasting for the boy’s suitability and whether he was indeed worth sinking its 27,000 microscopic teeth into from inside his gut.…. Hm, well, based on the intensifying flapping of its eyestalks the creature certainly appeared to find the proposition quite attractive. In fact, the boy was making it easy work as he opened his mouth to tell Greta to close hers.

Shooting up in a contracting jump, the slug’s foot flaps wove through the air in its slow motion leap towards Johannes’s warm wet mouth – not unlike an estranged lover running with open arms to reunite with their celluloid protaganist. However, despite its best efforts, the slug did not seem welcome as Johannes ducked out of the way and avoided having to learn the taste of magic escargot. d20:18+17 = 35 EVA – EVADES! Apparently all that training at S-M boot camp was good for something.

While Johannes was struggling with his unlikely new suitor – whose UK origins would surely have followed a trend of cursed international courtships – Greta also was struggling to accept the (probably deeply misunderstood) slug’s place in her heart. While the girl squirmed and indeed screamed as the prophecy foretold, the slug was not in a good position to politely give her a bit more space. Already entangled through newly goopy strands of hair and using her neck perch as a launching point to win over its newest beau, Greta would not be able to wriggle free from the now 3-foot slug sticking out from Valentin’s jaw. d20:6+20 =26-1=25 ACC MISS! However, with the slug preoccupied with Johannes, Greta’s cries would be well spent invoking the power of love (or at least the power of clandestinely goody-two-shoe bad-boy swagger).

Answering Greta’s terrified cries, a very upset faux leather boy ran onto the scene – apparently content to set aside (if temporarily) the indignity of walking in on her apparent make-out session with Durmstrang’s champion. Crying out with an incantation for impedimenta, was it true love powering the strength of Felix’s critically successful spell? A severe blast shot from his wand, but alas, it seemed the sharply dressed Felix’s leather gloves did more for his aesthetic than for his aim. Perhaps it was the sheer adrenaline, or maybe he was overdue for a visit to one of the quidditch team’s boot camps, but Kolbeck’s spell shot several feet from its intended target. d20:20+9 = 29 WIS; CRITICAL SUCCESS! d20:10+9=19-1 =18 ACC – MISS!

For all the wild movements of the massively thick monstrosity jutting from his throat, Valentin did not wake from being thrown around by the slug’s attacks and evasions. The crushing of his airway had suffocated him into deep black unconsciousness. Still, after being groped by multiple hands and having a spell shot at it, the saucy Sir Slugentin the Second decided it was turning out to be a wilder party than expected outside of the dark depths of Valentin’s soft squishy innards. With an indignant flick of its head, the slug began to wiggle its way off of Greta’s (now very ooey-gooey) neck and back inside of Valentin with great haste. Slippery enough to evade any attempts to stop its return, the slug vanished back into the albino’s mouth with a disturbing slurp, leaving bubbling metallic tar dripping across the now ruined portrait of Valentin’s razzberry-and-blood splattered face.

After a few moments the ravaged albino jolted and began to cough up large quantities of the fluid. Whatever people were saying around him was as unintelligible as dialogue underwater, and he began to slosh his head around in an attempt to understand where he was and what was happening. The rugged athlete had experienced his share of wake-ups from dreadful crashes and was quick to urge himself back into action, however wretched he felt and as much as his throat ached like a blown-out tire. Through fits of coughing, Valentin wobbled up into sitting and looked around at the faces looking back at him. Why was everyone staring at him? He didn’t know. Something must have been happening. Following someone’s gaze led him finally to spotting the iconic redheaded giant that was Romeo Marchonné.

His heart leapt at first with relief at seeing his co-captain, but then it seemed that something was not quite right. No, the situation was in fact terribly, terribly wrong. Romeo was attacking their second-string seeker, clearly trying to kiss her. What, was his first-string seeker not good enough after all? Although bit with an absurd sting of jealousy, Valentin decided that whatever this was all about, Romeo would later come to regret the violent angle of his attempt to overtake Astrid.

Burbling out a mucus-filled incantation for fulgari with a reflexive quick draw of a wand gesture, Valentin attempted to bind Romeo into motionlessness with conjured pearly white rope. d20:1+24 = 25 CRITICAL FAILURE! However fine his aim might have been, a strange guilt was contaminating his ability to visualize putting the restraints on his co-captain. Rather, with a shuddering shake of his wand, Valentin’s spell backfired and blew up on himself instead. Bolting like white snakes of lighting, silken cordage wrapped all across Valentin’s body and bound him with the tightly constricting fulgari. So extreme was its embrace that it not only pained the already suffering seeker, but began to damage his lungs by crushing them. -50 HP Coughing and alarmed, Valentin had no words but one anymore as he stared after his rampaging giant:

“ROMEO!!!”

Basic Stats: HP: 745/800
STA 8 - EVA 20 - STR 3 - WIS 20 [24] - ARC 1 - ACC 17
Keen Eye / Charmer / Evasive Maneuvers / Fearless / Comprehend Languages: Parseltongue & Veela
Inventory: A golden locket, a silver earring from the Horntail Horde piercing excursion, a golden ring from Yefim, "some wand," a copy of Romeo’s medical notebook, Oakshaft 79.
Broom bonus stats (when flying): +4 ACC, +4 ARC
Charmer “opponents”: literally everyone

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Romeo v Astrid: Attempts to Grapple [Martial Artist] -- Initiative 98

Romeo Accuracy [18 + 3 (MC) - 1 (Charmers) = 20] = d20(20) + 20 = 40 Critical Hit
Astrid Evasion [9] = d20(9) + 9 = 18

Romeo Strength Contest [20 + (20 x 0.15 = 3)] = d20(16, 3) + 23 = 39

Advantage due to Critical Accuracy Hit

Astrid Strength Contest [6 + (6 x 0.15 = 0.9)] = d20(2) + 7 = 9

Romeo grapples Astrid & Holds her there [Grappled]. Neither one can move.

Astrid v Romeo: Attempt to Escape -- Initiative 30, Won Tiebreaker

Astrid Strength Contest [6 + (6 x 0.15 = 0.9)] = d20(1) + 7 = 8 Critical Failure
Romeo Strength Contest [20 + (20 x 0.15 = 3)] = d20(1, 3) + 23 = 26

Advantage due to Astrid Critical Failure

Astrid is unable to escape & is still Grappled by Romeo

Hans v His Majesty Shehroze, King of the Roses: Attempt to Grab & Pull Shehroze [No Martial Artist]
Initiative 30, Lost Tiebreaker

Hans Accuracy [10 - 1 (Charmers)] = 20(8) + 9 = 17 (Miss)
Shehroze Evasion

Advantage due to almost total "cover" in Romeo's mouth

Hans is unable to Grab His Majesty Shehroze, King of the Roses

SlugeoHis Majesty Shehroze, King of the Roses v Hans: Bite Hans -- Initiative 19

Shehroze Accuracy Critical Miss

Redirects to only other target in Range: Astrid

Shehroze Critical Miss Accuracy [0] = d20(4) = 4
Astrid Evasion [9] = d20(18) + 9 = 27

His Majesty Shehroze, King of the Roses Critically Misses Hans,
desperately goes after Astrid, who Dodges

Action: See Bottom*

Inventory:
Medical Notebook, True Love's Locket, Oak Wood Beater Bat, Wand, Oakshaft 79 [+4 Acc & Wis]

norwegian ❅ russian ❅ english ❅ swedish

july 17 quidditch stadium outfit - earrings health : 1100/1100 (for now)

@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood @Piérre Marchonné @Evelynn Decipio @Astrea Soleil Neptune @Winnie Harper @Archer Duncan

don't you shy awAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

❅ ❅ ❅

Astrid was standing up, watching at Rome expectantly. What the hell was he doing? Fair, he didn't look well - he was, after all a seventh year. The girl stood up, the boy staggered on his broom. "Rome, you okay?" He pressed his hands on his eyes, like to stop a headache. She looked back towards Val, Greta and Johannes, where the situation hadn't changed. "Astrid..." The girl looked back at Rome. He looked scared, and he was sweating. Just like Val looked a few moments before. Shit. "Yeah Rome?" "Astrid..." That was bad, really bad. The older boy took a step closer towards the rest of the group, and grabbed Astrid's shoulders. She was a seeker, she was fast. But apparently not that fast because Romeo made her loose her balance. He has still holding her shoulders, tightly, and he was manhandling her, a leg between hers, bent over her. Fuck. Astrid had been in England for what? Two days. Two days that went well, she was in a beautiful tent, with a jasmine-scented pillow as her bed. It was great! And now she was here, being assaulted by one of her Quidditch team captain, someone she trusted, and his sluggish host. Nothing organized by Hogwarts went well, except for Quidditch. Astrid was here for Quidditch, and to have a good time. She had been here for two days, and she had been having a good time. The slug's eyes she could see coming out of the boy's mouth was telling her that the good time was over. "Romeo. Let me go, please." The girl was trying to get out of the boy's grip but, what was she thinking? She was short and he was tall was fuck. He was a beater. Of course his grip on her didn't change. And she was disadvantaged, her skirts were slowing her movements. She could hear Felix and Hans arriving but she couldn't see them. Her eyes were glued on that thing in Romeo's mouth. The Swede was yelling to the Italian to get off her, but he didn't seem to hear. The Norwegian was still trying to escape, hearing but not really listening to the shouting around her. "Astrid, don’t move! Trust me." Astrid stopped moving. She was breathing fast, and she was starting to really get scared for her life and Greta's. Greta who was now pleading that she didn't want to die. Astrid was not there yet. She was just disgusted by that thing getting closer and closer to her face. She really, really didn't want that thing to touch her. Then Hans came trying to rescue her, but failed. And even if the slug went back to hiding, the girl was focused. She was trembling with fear, but she was focused. Maybe she will look like shit in the year to come. As expected by the fourteen year old girl, the slug got out of Rome's mouth once again, swinging towards her. She saw it coming, and dodged by moving her head backwards. The whole situation was a shitshow. They were suppose to have a great time in this winter wonderland created by Hogwarts. Two days in, and Durmstrang were kinda fighting for their lives. Obviously, it's the two girls that were attacked first - hosts don't count because it was before. One was screaming and the other was getting very afraid for her life. Still unable to move and unwilling to speak or scream, Astrid heard some noise behind her. "ROMEO!!!" Oh, Valentin was able to speak. Did the slug got out of him? Or did it went back in? The girl shivered at that thought. If they could get the slugs out and kill them before the night, that would be really great.

❅ ❅ ❅

Inventory wand, sketchbook, aquarelle kit
Action
sta ● 11 | eva ● 9 | str ● 6 | wis ● 10 | arc ● 7 | acc ● 9
fearless - obnoxiously strong - keen eye - charmer
Post 1 - 2 - 3

𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙵𝙸𝚃: Reducio

│ │ │

▪ 𝙴𝙽𝙲𝚈 ▪ ▪ FELIX ▪ KOLBECK ▪ ▪ DURMSTRANG iNPC ▪ SIXTH YEAR ▪

│ │ │

𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂: Reducio @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood as Valentin @Piérre Marchonné as Romeo @Evelynn Decipio as Greta @Astrea Soleil Neptune as Johannes @Archer Duncan as Hans

Get salt, you idiots!

Felix vaguely heard Hans shouting at them because he had MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO DEAL WITH RIGHT NOW. The pipsqueak was squawking about the most advance spell casters in their group, leaving the situation to go get fucking salt, a noise still less irritating than the banshee-like scream that came from the King of Twerps. "ARE YOUR TWO BRAIN CELLS FIGHTING FOR THIRD PLACE RIGHT NOW? I'M NOT LEAVING TO GET FUCKING SALT, STOP SCREAMING AND GET IT YOURSELF, HALF-WIT."

He felt his heart drop when Greta started to cry. It felt like an invisible force was gripping his heart when she called out specifically for him. The Swede abandoned any efforts to save Astrid (sorry), and he regained his tunnel vision for the small valkyrie.

Except it wasn't. He watched in shock as his spell went past the sluggish cryptid. How could he have missed? HOW THE HELL DID HE MISS? He executed the spell perfectly, with a flare that impressed even himself. The accuracy had been okay, and usually a spell like that would have hit, right? Why the fuck hadn't it hit?! "Greta! Hang on!"

He readied his wand, preparing to fire another spell towards the monster, but the thing started to retreat, sliding itself back down Valentin's throat. The sight alone was enough to make Felix's stomach churn. He fought back the bile rising in his throat when he saw an opening to grab the tiny blonde. Running towards the Norwegian with a sudden burst of adrenaline, his arms scooped her up princess style and held her firmly against his chest. "I've got you, I've got you..." He wasn't certain if his mantra was to calm himself or Greta, but he wasn't planning to let her go anytime soon.

While keeping himself within a spell’s reach, he created some distance between them and Valentin. He had to clear his head. Panic would only hinder his ability to cast spells, and he still held his wand tightly in his right hand, just below Greta’s knees. He carefully lowered her legs to free his casting hand, but kept his left arm wrapped firmly around her. "Stay next to me, Pärla Pearl."

He had no idea what was happening. Valetin seemed somewhat cognitive again. "VAL, you back with us? Good. Stay with us, friend." Truthfully he was terrified for Valentin, but trying his best to swallow his fear. Where the hell was the slug? Just living inside of him? They were going to have to get that thing out again, but first, they had to focus on Romeo and Astrid.

"All of you, listen. I'm getting this thing out of his throat and as soon as I do I need you all to start blasting it and grab Astrid. Got it? Good." Because there wasn't time to hesitate, if there was one thing he'd learned during his time as a duelist, it was timing was important. "ANAPNEO!"

Permission given from Greta's writer to say Felix grabbed her.

threading as Johannes Sauer
speaking in russian unless specified

Called upon to protect Greta (he was trying, Felix!) and confirm their current enemies, Johannes couldn't help but send a wild, furious glare at their newest, most clueless arrival. What did Hans think was happening? They weren't having a goddamn garden tea party in the snow. This wasn't a horrifying wizarding version of A Bug's Life— It was a matter of life, death and avoiding collateral damage. And to think that Durmstrang was meant to be smarter than this! Either something had changed in the curriculum to stunt intellectual self-preservation or they had just gotten the baby rejects.

"Fucking salt??" Between the initial (obvious) questioning and brilliant solution of dehydrating an obviously unnatural enemy of humanity, Johannes could stand none of the idiocy. (Neither could Felix, but that was par for the course considering the two's... attitudes.) Who did this kid think he was? "These aren't your grandmother's garden slugs, moron! We're kind of BUSY right now—" If Hans opened his mouth one more time to blabber about useless things instead of providing realistic solutions to their three feet long, slime-covered aberrations, Johannes was going to turn him into a salt pillar. Maybe that would help their situation more than getting insulted immediately.

Greta's shrill panic seemed to drill directly into his skull as they both struggled to dislodge the too-slippery vermin from her neck. She was switching languages in her fearful babble. He could scarcely think between everything that was happening right now. Something exceedingly sweet perfumed the air suddenly, newly sugared amidst the taste of terror and spilt snow cone syrup. The slick, subzero slime began to climb up his outstretched arm in his distraction, serving as a perfect, unintentional launchpad for further entangling. Johannes couldn't call himself squeamish but those— those eyestalks wriggling towards him in unsettling interest?

Hell no. Neatly dodging the slug's lunge, Johannes instinctually cursed out his would-be attacker. His filthy hands slipped from Greta's constricted neck to scramble backwards out of range, very nearly the next damsel in distress in this terrible situation. A stray spell bolt struck the snow near them, beautifully useless for all of its magical talent.

As much as Valentin's disgusting possessor seemed to appreciate both lovely creatures currently tied up with exorcising it, neither of its possible victims would share the same sentiment. Seemingly fed up with its lack of success, the demonic creature withdrew completely into Valentin's open mouth as quickly as it emerged. Sore loser. Even ruder still, the temporary suspension of their most obvious slug target had seemingly revived its albino host.

Felix rushed over to retrieve the traumatised Greta, yet Johannes stayed down to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. He had no words for the newly conscious Valentin, staring openly at the other's self-bound form with all of the immediate suspicion of a chained dog. That rare critical failure was only a testament to the slug's ravagement. If even Valentin's magic had failed him, how could they stand to fix everything without professional magical intervention? Would doing so make both Valentin and Romeo worse? The slug had somehow slunk itself into esophagi, who's to say it couldn't hook its way further into their vulnerable innards? The same thick, tar-like slime decorating Greta's hair and neck dripped down their Kapitä- the captain's face like blood on a feasting predator.

The immediate danger of one slug was currently on hold, yet Astrid was still very much in the range of Romeo's stowaway. Felix's critical thinking skills would force Johannes' attention back to the larger situation, but understanding someone's plans did not mean becoming blind to its deficiencies! Their #7 was literally being grappled into submission. "Shit, grab Astrid before releasing the hell beast!?" Unfortunately, one could not expect a former duellist to wait when it came to spellwork, especially in a life-or-death situation. Felix was already levelling his wand towards the gagging redhead, leaving Johannes to swallow his bewilderment and aid his fellow caster. "Relashio!"

Action: Casting the Revulsion Jinx on Romeo.

Mod Information

Outfit==

Reducio

Statistics: Sta: 10 | Eva: 17 | Str: 10 | Wisdom: 9 | Arc: 8 | Acc: 18
Abilities: Foulplay, Charmer, Evasive Maneuvers, Rapid Reviver, Blindvision, Wandmaker*, Lovely Creature

Charmer Allies: Slava Preobrazhensky

Wandmaker Information

Reducio

Dragon Heartstring
- Dragon Like Power: +3 to arcane power when casting spells with this wand.
- Accident Prone: 5% chance that the intended spell will rebound on the caster. Non-targeted spells such as counters, healing, and some utility spells that have no target or are self-targeting cannot rebound. This is not prevented by the Perfectionist ability.

Cedar Wood: "Spells performed against this wand owner's enemies (those who have specifically crossed them) tend to be more painful."
Romanian Longhorn: "When their owner is passionate about something, the spells that successfully go off tend to be more dramatic."

Items: Vials of Revive Potion and Confusing Concoction in inner pockets. Wand in hidden sleeve holster (right hand).

As the coils of his own failed fulgari spell wrapped around him, Valentin winced and gritted his teeth. He had not only failed, but failed spectacularly to stop Romeo’s grapple attack on Astrid. With her pinned in the beater’s meaty arms, she would not be able to escape his “romantic” advances unless someone did something – fast. Fast… the way Val was supposed to be, and could have been, if he had not been bound up by his own colossal failure. In no position to cast a spell nor move anywhere while within his silky entrapment on the ground, all Valentin had left were his eyes and mouth. Stuck at an off angle behind and far below the bent-over giant’s titian head, all the seeker could see was Romeo moving in towards the captive Astrid as if he would imminently kiss her.

“ROMEO!!!” screeched Valentin like a furious veela. It was uncanny how much the sound had come to resemble a falcon, and its piercing cry could haunt anyone who knew the sound of a heart splitting open. Yet, like the many other times Val’s wish had been rebuffed by the other, it seemed Romeo was not about to spare him another severe emotional blow now. To be fair, thought the seeker, I have always asked to never be spared the full brunt of the truth, even and especially with the most painful matters…

It was his own fault for failing to let Romeo go, decided Valentin. He’d been denied by Romeo time after time after time, and it was only after Rome’s brother’s manipulative drugging that the co-captain ever showed signs of reciprocating Val’s feelings. No, Romeo’s (admittedly ill-wrought) advances towards their second-string seeker was just further confirmation. Whatever it was that the other saw in Astrid, Valentin internalized the action as his own failure. He wasn’t good enough as a seeker if someone so much less experienced was preferable. Perhaps it wasn’t even about sports performance, but Val’s inability to ever be a biological mother to another man’s child. Maybe it was that Romeo had finally figured out how much of a monster Valentin was after all, going on to learn about Val’s ancestors and true nature behind his back after the spilling of secrets from Gitano’s wicked tongue. No matter what the reason was, it was now clear that the kiss he’d received from Romeo just a year ago at that horrid bottle game was probably a product of Piérre’s meddling. Maybe the beater had been dosed again with amortentia before the event – Romeo’s littler twin had certainly attended the event and could easily have been enjoying watching the scene’s fallout unfold. Even after nearly getting beaten to death by his brother, Piérre seemed so unrepentant that he’d surely mind control his brother again in a heartbeat. Yes, that bottle game kiss was surely meaningless after all. Maybe it was all just to get a stupid prize. That was the simplest explanation. Val never could grasp why people acted such ways at spin-the-bottle. He would just have to accept that he didn’t understand why Romeo could trade Val’s heart for a single goddamned bean.

Valentin began to seethe but could not look away from the trainwreck that was Romeo’s aggressive overtaking of Astrid. No, of course Val had never deserved anything even remotely as good as what Romeo was forcing on her. Romeo probably resented him for every shortcoming that kept Durmstrang from retaining its unchallenged quidditch dominance. Especially after #4 was knocked out in the previous quidditch game, Val should have gone faster and grabbed the snitch before those Hogwarts could change the rules mid-game. It was Val’s fault that the referees made that call. It was Val’s fault that Romeo left the team in the first place all those years ago, after Val had doomed Durmstrang to failure by trusting too much that he’d be accompanied by his assigned wingman. He had been too hyperfixated then, just as he’d been too obstinate all these years in failing to respect that Romeo simply had no interest in him. I am forever blinded by wishful thinking, pretending that people can overcome limits and achieve their dreams no matter what. Like a child who never grew out of his naïveté, I keep inflicting ludicrous standards on not just my team, but especially on Romeo. With a gruff snort, Valentin’s eyes narrowed as he watched Romeo’s action play out as if in a slow-motion horror scene. When would he learn to stop imposing on Romeo’s love life with his own self-centered wish? He’d been a complete tyrant in daring to speak it that day out in the snow when Romeo found him with Gellert.

How could you, Valik? How dare you be so cruel? Throat swallowing up with disgust, Valentin clenched his fists in self hatred. You probably hurt Gellert, too, with your selfish demonstration. You were just deluding yourself to think you were doing it for selfless reasons. You’re nothing more than an arrogant deluded showman, a psychotic and unrelenting black hole. You’ve never been the same since that day at the lake. You are broken. You are insane, like Sergei has kept proving to you. Your memory doesn’t work anymore, and you’ve lost control of yourself. See how you have no idea what is happening now. It’s no wonder Romeo doesn’t want you. It’s for the best that he knows better than to mess with something as destructive as you.

“Maybe it was better that you just stayed away!” rang the words in Val's memory. He knew he hadn't meant them for Romeo at the time. Really they held the guilt he held in his own heart for not having done so for the beater's sake.

It was then that Val spotted Felix’s sharp movement. Regrettably, the words of even his dear bomber-jacketed friend had only come to Valya as a buzz. What Romeo was doing had absorbed all of the seeker’s illness-warped attention until his quidditch-trained reflexes kicked in to force him to notice a spell being thrown at #4. Yet, whatever that spell had been, Romeo danced magnificently out of the way of it [critical success] as he spun Astrid into its path as a meat shield [crit. success’s bonus]. The girl would then feel the need to cough a few times, but because nothing of significance was blocking her airway, she would simply feel like any latent phlegm was pleasantly cleared from her windpipe. She could now sing with marvelous tone, if she so chose.

The smooth movements of Romeo’s footwork matched the incredible accuracy he’d demonstrated with his earlier pin of Astrid [i.e. the previous critical success], and Valentin stared transfixed with the beater’s beautiful, well-trained movements. The slug clearly jutting from Romeo’s face was still obscured from Val since the back of Astrid’s head was now the one blocking it from view as he continued to lay flat on the ground. It must have been terrifying for Astrid, he felt, but he’d done everything he could for her and still failed… Turning his head away, Valentin tried to get his bearings. There had to be something he could do…

Glancing over at Greta, Valentin realized she looked greatly disturbed. What had happened to her? Was she afraid of Romeo, or just as horrified by what he was doing to Astrid? Felix was holding her in a comforting way, which did something to warm a tiny cockle in Val’s heart, but something felt terribly off about the whole situation. He felt like he wasn’t seeing the big picture and he’d missed a lot when passed out from being sick.

As he turned back to face Romeo’s situation again, the ache of sorrow twisted like a knife in Valentin’s chest and a bitter guilt squirmed inside. He had to see this. Only if he watched unblinkingly could he ever accept that Romeo was forever out of his reach. What else was he going to do, cry about it? Certainly he wanted to. He longed to weep his very lungs out, the way he did on that soul-crushing evening atop the ledge of his crystal tower. He would force himself to watch this just so that Romeo could finish off that stubborn weed of hope he could never seem to fully tear out. Every time it got burned or ripped up, his ridiculous feelings kept growing back from some hideous root ball. If Val just watched helplessly then maybe it would finally kill it to the core.

………But no. Valentin just couldn’t find it in himself not to help when Astrid was clearly trying to dodge Romeo’s advances. She didn’t want this, and so Val wouldn’t stand for it either. Romeo would surely come to regret it later, too. He was probably just in one of his rages again, and Val still felt the need to take care of him when all Romeo could see was red. They were his team, no matter how much he himself was hurting. He loved his team, and he would do anything for them. He was their captain and needed to protect them so that they could live out their truest dreams.

“Romeo, NO! Don’t do this. Trust me, you’ll regret it if you don’t STOP IT RIGHT NOW!”

Wriggling like an insect trapped in a spider’s silk bindings, Valentin struggled to break free.

Basic Stats: HP: 745/800
STA 8 - EVA 20 - STR 3 - WIS 20 [24] - ARC 1 - ACC 17
Keen Eye / Charmer / Evasive Maneuvers / Fearless / Comprehend Languages: Parseltongue & Veela
Inventory: A golden locket, a silver earring from the Horntail Horde piercing excursion, a golden ring from Yefim, "some wand," a copy of Romeo’s medical notebook, Oakshaft 79.
Broom bonus stats (when flying): +4 ACC, +4 ARC
Charmer “opponents”: literally everyone
Action: struggling against his self-imposed fulgari
Free actions: Looking around and verbally trying to convince Romeo to stop

As per Romeo’s earlier mod post, I am given explicit permission to control his character in this thread during the player’s absence.