Santario watched the onslaught from a distance, trying to calculate exactly how she could get him to stop. Had their trust been wholly repaired? No, but she gave him her word that she would have his back even if it was saving him from himself. If there was one thing she didn’t do, it was going back on her word when she still had a reason to keep it. Erik wouldn’t stop after Tyr, he wouldn't stop after her, he wouldn’t stop until he was the only one left standing or unless Victor or someone else rendered him unconscious. One way or another, she was going to end up on the ground; she might as well go out trying, right?

With that, she moved in and fast but not at Erik. After Erik’s last swing, she went to shoulder Tyr out of the way or slide in between them anything that would get her into Erik’s line of sight and in reaching distance of his body. Her hands would reach for his face as she tried to force eye contact with the raging werewolf. “Erik, come back to me, you don’t have to do this.” She spoke only loud enough for those who were closest to hear her. San was braced though, she knew this might not work, and if it didn’t, if any part of this failed, she would be at the beast's mercy of which she was certain it had none.

Action 1| Get between Tyr and Erik one way or another.
Action 2| Try to grab Erik's face and force eye contact.
Action 3| Trying to talk him back/down

| Stats |
Stamina| 5 | Evasion| 5 | Strength| 3 | Wisdom| 8 | Arcane Power| 7 |Accuracy| 7 |
| Ability |
Healing Sage

TRIGGER WARNING: Blood (and if you are like me, Kissing is a trigger, too)
Not sure if the relatively dark theme in this post is allowed. Please owl me if I need to revise it to fit the site rating

Runes.

Of course, there had to be runes.

They were up against a greater enemy than just shady, cloaked kids, and if the eerie floating darkness that caught Dmitri's eyes were any indication, they were in greater, graver danger than he had once anticipated. It took more than a Hogwarts student to invoke the power of Ancient Runes. Ancestor to the current form of magic the present Wizarding World utilizes, runes demanded a greater power and experience a mere fourth year student simply could not have mastered.

It was the first time the self-proclaimed student-genius felt helpless in a long while.

They didn't have command over their own magic while in this place. Wands were useless. And they were taking each other out. One by one, their numbers would have dwindled, and nothing would be able to stop anyone who sought to destroy them. The sheer mass of the students' numbers would have made anyone planning any harm to second-guess their decisions, but by the harsh sound of flesh hitting flesh, there wouldn't even be enough of the Slytherins to harm.

They would have already destroyed themselves.

Dmitri watched as Erik Tharaldson almost knocked out yet another opponent, the said opposing student barely hanging on to consciousness as the werewolf boy's flurry of blows connected with their frail body.

It didn't seem that the boy was spotless either. Right at the corner of his mouth, a trickle of red flowed, indicating that though he was plowing through the competition, he was also sustaining quite a few injuries himself.

The fight was brutal all the way through.

Injuries.

Wounds.

Blood...

Blood.

Blood!

And just like that, the boy had a plan. But he was willing to admit he was crazy in ever thinking it would work.

In an instant, the boy who seemed to have been staring off into space for quite some time, moved with a determined stride right up to Erik and some other girl who had his face in her hands—probably attempting to snap the boy out of it.

But Dmitri knew it was no use. The boy was too far gone.

The best thing one could do would be to capitalize on it.

Out of nowhere, Dmitri would attempt to shoulder the girl out of her place in front of the boy and crudely imitate what she did, taking the werewolf's face in his hands. But it wasn't to snap him out.

Instead, it was for something more.

In one swift motion, Dmitri would attempt swoop in and capture the boy's mouth in a grim imitation of a kiss. Contrary to how it would appear to the audience, it wouldn't be some romantic, heroic gesture. But it was exactly what the fourth year boy would like them to think.

ACTION 1: Attempt to shoulder Santario aside to capture Erik's mouth in a kiss

Whatever would happen, whether the werewolf only becomes enraged and deck him, punching him in the face or in the stomach, or whether the boy snaps out of the bloodlust due to the uncharacteristic, sudden, startling display of "affection", Dmitri would have gotten what he wanted.

His mouth would have captured the bright red blood building up inside the boy's mouth.

Whether retaliation comes or not at all, Dmitri would back away to wipe his bloody mouth with his free hand.

ACTION 2: If his previous action succeeds, attempt to pull away (whatever happens next) and wipe his bloody mouth with his free hand.

The older Slytherin boy would not even be pretending to look startled. He would be truly shaken to his core at what he had done.

But he had a job to do.

To the audience, and to whoever was puppeteering this whole operation on the sidelines watching them, it would have only looked like a teenage-hormone-driven action. A dramatic, theatrical show of feelings and emotions. It would have rivaled Peeta and Katniss if some snot-nosed kids were any competition. The wide-eyed look on Dmitri's face would have appeared to be one worn by a lovesick, lonely, antisocial boy.

But they could never be more wrong.

Dmitri would do anything to get out of this mess. Even if it was touching his mouth onto some filthy mutt.

ACTION 3: If his previous actions succeed, attempt to leave the ring (appearing like a lovesick teenager) and dash his bloodstained hand into one of the symbols.

Because although the boy was fairly ignorant to the power runic symbols held (Hogwarts' Magnus Rosier disappeared out of mysterious circumstances before he could teach runes), he did know one thing for sure. Magic relied on structure—incantations, wand movements, intent, willpower, symbols—and if one of those things were broken down, everything else crumbles.

He just hoped his plan worked.

ALTERNATIVE ACTION 2 & 3: If his first action fails, he would only look like a crazed maniac, and so he will throw his conjured spider at the werewolf to save face. He had nothing to lose. Except maybe his dignity.

She did it. She had attacked the older werewolf boy who used to be under her supervision on the Quidditch team. She was weak. She knew this. Although she landed hits, they barely affected the boy. Enraged however, he turned towards her. This was what she wanted. Before she could speak he was attacking her, landing blow after blow to her small frame. How she was not unconscious already was a miracle.

"Do it! Hit me again! END MY MISERY!" She screamed out at the boy, arms raised to her sides in a gesture that was meant to antagonize him. She had not realized until the first hit from the boy the amount of pain she had been hiding inside. Ever since the Secret Blossom Ball and her mental breakdown where she realized her failures, she had been keeping her anger and pain locked away. Now, with pain radiating throughout her body, she let the wall shatter, emotions overflowing inside her. This was not how a 12 year old should feel.

She did not even attempt to brace for the inevitable impact that would come from the blond boy, surely knocking her out. She welcomes the sweet release that was looming over her. Mother Freya, comfort me. A small prayer went through her mind. Despite the outcomes of this encounter, she would let out a small gasp.

Actions:
Arms outstretched begging @Erik Tharaldson to finish her and end her misery

Stats:
Stamina: 9 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 2 | Wisdom: 2 | Arcane Power: 3 | Accuracy: 7
Abilities:
Seer -- 10% auto-dodge & auto-hit

Erik was smiling sadistically as his fists kept colliding with Tyranni's body. It felt so good. The werewolf imagined this was how a junkie felt when he got another fix. The poor girl in front of him wasn't even trying to dodge. That was much clear as she became another punching bag for him. Nothing much then a warm up. As Erik prepared to give her a blow that would ring her head San jumped right in front of him causing him to hold back. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! PUNCH HER IN THE FACE. SHE WAS FOOLISH TO STAND IN OUR WAY. Just like that she tried to talk him out of it. It seemed like her words left an effect as he seemed to be more aware of what he was doing. I-... S-... San...?, he spoke. As he tried to struggle with the wolf within suddenly someone else stoot in front of him and planted his lips on his which caused his eyes to go wide and anger burned every trace of resistance he was mentally forming against the wolf inside. THE MERE AUDACITY! WILL YOU LET HIM GET AWAY WITH THAT?! HOW HE MADE YOU LOOK LIKE A COMPLETE IDIOT?! As fast as he could he threw a punch at Dmitri.

Cutting through the silence was this shriek of pain and missery calling the wolf out to finish her and end her needless suffering. With another sadistic grin he immediately walked over and gave her what she was so desperately begging her. YOU HEAR THAT? THEY ARE ALREADY BEGGING YOU FOR THEIR UNEVITABLE DEMISE!

When Erik cocked his head in search of his prey he noticed the boy who had dared to kiss him earlier was making a run for it. It looked like he was leaving the ring. CATCH HIM! SHOW HIM THERE'S NO ESCAPE ONLY PAIN! With a savage and bloodthirsty roar Erik chased Dmitri and tried to knock him flat on his back.

Of what he knew of the people on the opposite team, Tyranni was the most sensible. Unfortunately, he didn't know that much regarding the team members as people, only having interacted with each once if at all. Thus, he supposed it might have been too much to think that Tyranni might have decided to back up her ideals of non-violence regarding the fight club by actually refraining from fighting. Like the bleach-haired young man, Jack guessed the other Slytherin somehow came to the conclusion that the way to stop senseless fighting with more fighting. Fight fire with fire, right? Because why would anyone think to fight fire with water?

He sighed and shook his head, but forced himself to continue watching as he remained in front of Victor. At first, he thought Santario might have had the right idea by trying to call out and talk to Erik instead of throwing a fist as Tyranni had, but then the irritable girl seemed to deem it necessary to blame aloud her failings at having reached Erik on Tyranni. Oh, and name-calling; real mature. As if that would have done any good. Jack guessed that the only effect of Santario's criticisms would be to raise the tension between the students involved.

Sure, everyone made mistakes and had their bad moments, but Jack believed it was in critical situations like this when stress and emotions were running highest that one was really able to tell the most about a person. As things were, the only relatively sensible one doing something (discounting Ruby, who seemed to opt for doing nothing at all,) seemed to Jack to be the bleach-haired upperclassman. Fortunately for him, this individual - whose name was still unknown to the redhead - was on his own team along with the now-deranged-seeming Erik.

"I don't need your help. Just get out of here!" Jack heard behind him as frosty fingers were placed upon his shoulder where he guessed they meant to pull at him. Due to their absurd lack of strength, however, they did little to actually move him. "I am fine!"

Those words, particularly the final declaration, sparked something firey behind Jack's gaze as if to combat Victor's literal and metaphorical frigidity. For a second, he simply seethed. Then he spoke in low, dangerous tones, attempting to hold Victor's strangely green eyes.

"Don't lie to me," he growled with a force of will that did not require volume to impose itself. "That in itself is worse than anything Fangs has ever done to me. If you don't understand the worth of your words, then you're better off not saying anything at all. But don't you dare lie to me. You are not fine and we both know it."

That said, Jack still reeled with rage, so much so that he had to actually look away from Victor and turn back to the fight in order to calm himself down. What was the bleach-blonde fellow doing now?

"Merlin," the redhead heard Victor murmur behind him, guessing the burned youth was referring to the onslaught regarding Erik, Tyranni, and Santario. It seemed despite all he had been through and whatever ill-will he might have harbored toward his previous housemates or schoolmates, the burned young man still seemed to feel for them to a degree.

However, Jack couldn't afford to be distracted by them. Something else was going on; something bigger, in his opinion, than two girls trying to talk or beat some sense into some half-crazed boy they may have considered their friend.

If they had really been true friends, Jack guessed that situation would have been resolved by now. Furthermore, he could only find himself irritated by what he thought of as their foolish attempts to rein in his sudden, strange blood-lust by throwing themselves in harm's way. If they'd had any sense, he thought, they would have just left Erik alone to run out of steam like any tantrum-throwing toddler would when he was no longer fueled by attention. Thus, he had no respect or sympathy for either of the girls or their actions in regard to what they were hoping to accomplish there.

At least the bleach-haired boy had stopped fighting...even if he now simply appeared to be staring off into space instead. What on Earth...? ...And then he, too, promptly lost Jack's respect right along with any assumed understanding of his intentions.

Bleach-hair strode right up to Erik, as Santario had, and shouldered her out of the way. Then he...kissed him? Ugh!

Jack winced, made a face, and looked away. So much for being sensible. They'd all gone mad. He swore quietly under his breath until his curiosity refused to be ignored any longer. At last, he peeked back towards the ring using the very edge of his peripheral vision to try to determine if the scene was safe for viewing again. Jack's only solace was that Bleach-hair himself seemed to have been taken aback by his own behavior. But then...why had he done it in the first place?! Was this all some sort of strange ploy? Or was that funny voice getting into people's heads again, trying to make or persuade them to do things they didn't really want to do?

Maybe they were trying to confuse Erik into submission. It wasn't as if Jack hadn't attempted to use such a tactic in previous unwanted fights; and successfully, too. However, soon after, Bleach-hair left the ring and...smeared the blood from his mouth on one of the basement walls. What was that for?

"If you simply wanted to paint with his blood, you could have just wiped it off his face, you pervert!" Jack called to Bleach-hair in annoyance, still suffering from the second-hand embarrassment of what he'd witnessed before having turned away and what he'd involuntarily imagined after to fill in the blanks. As unlikely as it had seemed, Santario had finally appeared to possibly have been getting through to Erik, too; at least until she'd been intercepted yet again.

As whatever comeback Erik's sanity had begun to make was destroyed, however, Jack soon realized from the older boy's actions that his teammate no longer thought of himself as on a team due to the fact that he was soon going after Bleach-hair with no restraint. This boded ill because, though Bleach-hair may or may not have proved a match for Erik, Jack was sure as spellbooks that he himself wouldn't have, much less Victor. If the tallest Slytherin there went down, he and Victor were sure to be next. That was, of course, unless Santario decided to step in a third time, but who knew if she'd be willing to or if she would actually accomplish her goals during the third hypothetical try?

Jack turned back to Victor. "If everyone from the other team is defeated, will there be a way to stop him?" he asked, nodding toward Erik. "Or will he just come after us next?" Not wanting anyone to consider him a threat, the redhead hastily stuffed his wand back into his pocket.

Action 1: Avert his eyes from Dmitri's vulgar display
Action 2: Ask Victor about the rules of the technicalities of the fight in reference to Erik being forcibly stopped
Action 3: Put his wand back in his pocket

Health: 360/500
Stats: Sta: 5 || Eva: 7 || Str: 3 || Wis: 8 || AP: 6 || Acc: 6
Ability: Prodigal Charms Learner

Interacting with: @Victor Moore, @Dmitri Jones, @Erik Tharldson, @Santario Martin, @Ruby Cazares, & @Tyranni Whitethorn

Group 7
[6] Amara Dragamior - unconscious, dragged from the ring by Santario.
[13] Santario Martin - attempting to stop Erik from fighting; kissed in the eyeball by Dmitri; 499 health remaining
[30] Calvon Faux - unconscious
[31] Tyranni Whitethorn - 12 health remaining, asked to end her misery.

Group 8
[3] Jack Burnett - mildly battered, 360 health remains; being Victor's frail body guard.
[17] Dmitri Jones - smuggling a spooder; punched. Disorient Effect: 5% chance that they will auto-miss their attacks for the next 3 rounds. Kissed San in the eye. Painted a rune with his blood and he is now in crippling pain; 148 health remaining
[21] Ruby Cazares - did nothing
[22] Erik Tharldson - kicking ass and taking names; 510 health remains

@Santario Martin thought she could reason with Erik. That there was a better way but that as not true. It was in Erik's nature to fight, he needed it. It was more than mere catharsis. It was more than pride or a demonstration of his physical prowess. It was in his nature, it came as naturally as breathing. It was instinct, it was something basic and primal.

She would try to get in Erik's way. [Attacks will be randomly rolled between the two of them now]

They were supposed to be on the same team but Santario insisted on standing in his way. The werewolf had already had his first taste of blood, he wanted more. He screamed (in all caps), whatever pull Santario had, it was limited. Blame the wolf, not the man. The beast inside of him will always be his excuse.

Three on one, Santario was standing between the wolf and the lamb. This left an opening for Dmitri, the deviant. Dmitri would steal what every straight girl, every gay boy and maybe a few that were still figuring out their identity - Erik's kiss. The "Tyranni Tactic" ((@Thomas LeStrange, I am never letting you live it down)) as some strategists might call it was an effective way to draw 'agro.'

Dmitri would attempt to shoulder Santario out of the way.
Strength Check (Dmitri) 2 + 2
Strength Check (San) 2 + 3

He was not strong enough to move Santario out of the way. He was more a lover than a fighter. That just meant he would have to confuse the audience regarding what sort of 'show' they were watching.

Dmitri attacks Erik with a kiss.
Attack 1 + 8 = 9 Critical Failure
Evasion 5 + 6 = 11

...Yet they would cheer as if Dmitri had punched the boy's lights out. Not the expected reaction. Maybe they were real accepting of Erik and Dmitri's forbidden romance. Or perhaps it was the miss. Dmitri would miss Erik's pouty lips, ruining the writer's secret ship and fanfic written in secret. He would end up kissing someone else, much to his dismay as well as his inadvertent target as Erik ducked, leaving Santario vulnerable to Dmitri's perversions. His aim, not nearly as true, nor as lust filled. He might have noticed it at the very last moment as his lips hit Santario in the eye.

San takes 1 damage, is momentarily blinded in 1 eye. Their innocence are lost.

Of course Dmitri's objective was not a crude attempt to satisfy his lust in an incredibly strange place. It was to incur the wolf's wrath. Perhaps Erik's lips were virginal (how in a school with so many girls?), but Santario's dignity had been marred and she was INJURED. You monster Dmitri!

Erik attempts to Hook Dmitri Jones
Attack 20 + 5Critical hit
Evasion 18 + 5
Damage: (20 * 8. * 2 = 352
Disorient Effect: 5% chance that they will auto-miss their attacks for the next 3 rounds.

Erik would hit Dmitri in the jaw with the full force of his strength as well as the weight of hit teenage body. Dmitri would be spun around, the locomotive force of the blow would leave him reeling. Dmitri's precious spider was safe, but not his glorious face. There would be much weeping and gnashing of teeth among both men and women this evening as a bruise slowly started to form along the profile of his chiseled jaw. The eye candy had gone bitter.

Retribution was Erik's but Dmitri looked hardly startled. If anything, just cocky as he wuped away a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with his forearm. That's it darling, get mad. Erik was spinning out, before the kiss. The thick scent of blood, sweat and testosterone had already riled him. He needed to get grounded and Dmitri was of no help.

San: Try to grab Erik's face and force eye contact.
Attack 11 + 7
Evasion 4 + 6

San would attempt to clasp his face. Her hands were of little comfort. For but a brief moment she would see his eyes, they were looking for prey, nor prayer. “Erik, come back to me, you don’t have to do this.” He was not returning to her, not until Tyranni and Dmitri were taken down. He was going to take down the other team on his own.

Hold
Strength Check (Erik) 13 + 8.8
Strength Check (San) 9 + 3

He would pull himself way from her grip. Relieve himself of her touch. Behind her was Tyranni, egging him on.

Erik performs a Cross Punch at Tyranni Whitethorn
*Attacking intended target. Rolled 2.
Attack 4 + 5
Evasion 14 + 7

He would swing at the girl wildly, avoiding his friend. His arms not long enough, the pure-blood not nearly nimble enough as he missed. Erik was ranting like a madman still. He would see Dmitri trying to leave the ring. Leave in the middle of a fight. That would not do. Erik would leave Santario and pursue Dmitri. with a bounding leap, fist first he would over-dramatically try to take the upper classman down with a single brutal blow.

Erik attempts to Superman Punch Dmitri Jones hoping that will stop him from leaving the ring.
Attack 20 - 4 + 5
Evasion 19 + 5

There would be no mercy for Dmitri, but Dmitri was nimble. Had he been a little less agile, it was likely Erik would have taken the boy down. However he did not, he would fly into the ground, fist forward like a failed superhero. Dmitri was victorious, even if he would have to rinse his face in Listerine -- both girls and boys were simply disgusting. He would saunter out of the ring, his fight not yet over and he would make his way to the wall and wipe the blood on his palm onto a rune.



What did he do? Well, whatever it was, it was not obviously apparent. Was it nothing? No, it was never nothing. Dmitri might not be as clever as he thought he was, but he was smarter than most. He had done something. Just what. He had forgotten one thing, that the broken boy turned ringmaster was familiar with blood magic. Was blood a good idea? He had nothing else on hand. Hopefully he did not place a great target on his own head.

____________________________________________

There was a change in Jack's demeanor as Victor urged jack to leave. Told him that he was fine. an obvious lie. One that Jack took personally.

"Don't lie to me."

Burnett growled.

"That in itself is worse than anything Fangs has ever done to me. If you don't understand the worth of your words, then you're better off not saying anything at all. But don't you dare lie to me. You are not fine and we both know it."

Victor would take his eyes off the fight. His jaw shook as did his words. "Will you leave if I lie?" He sought clarification. A promise nestled into a threat. I will withdraw from you if you do not do what I like. "Then I tell you, I am fine. A master of my own destiny and capable of saving myself." His eyes would meet Jack's, the first year going on second seemed taller than before. Was he just shrinking? Just confused? It was hard to say.

He was picking a fight, trying to set the intrusive red head off. If he got mad enough, he would just go away. If lies were his weak point, the thing that made him mad even when they were obvious. Then so be it. He made it easy for him then.

Jack was watching the fight, as was he. He needed to see it. Witness their end. Fully appreciate their suffering and their loss, their victory and defeat. It was both his burden and his honor. Then he would see something new. Dmitri would draw in for a kiss after he failed to shoulder Santario out of the way. He missed Erik and hit the pretty girl instead. Lucky guy. Yes, he thought the dark haired girl was pretty. A shame she had gotten herself tangled up with the sins of her house.

When Dmitri eventually left the ring to paint the rune with a great, bloody X Jack drew Victor's attention to the incident he might have otherwise overlooked.

"If you simply wanted to paint with his blood, you could have just wiped it off his face, you pervert!"

Victor's pupils dilated and he started to shake. "No no no no..." number seventeen had no idea what he had done. How could he! It was too late, too late for seventeen, not that the snake had realized.

Dmitri would feel as if he was punched in the gut. As if a fist had made impact with his solar-plexus. All of the air from his lungs withdrawn in a single gust. Dmitri would feel an icy chill come through him. It hurt. Everything hurt. Deep, on the inside.

Took 100 damage

The bloody X he drew on the wall would fade away, become clean. Victor's eyes would widen. No, not like this. Not like this... he whispered, his heart in his throat.

"If everyone from the other team is defeated, will there be a way to stop him?"

He was referring to the rampaging wolf. Erik was unrelenting and all Dmitri had achieved was to wind the boy up further. His humanity nearly forgotten, Tyranni's urging and the upper classman's kiss enough to keep the teen's blood lust at a critical point.

"Or will he just come after us next?"

Victor frowned and nodded his head. "I--" he felt warm, a radiant heat that Jack would notice even if he was not in physical contact with the buy. "Would have to put him down before Vladmir does." The boy with no might against the savage wolf. "Like I said, fine..." he muttered with a downcast gaze. "He is waiting for you upstairs, reverse walk," he recommended.

Erik was fuming at this point and all but foaming at the mouth by the bleached, skinny boy's cowardly exit. It was through sheer luck he hadn't been able to land his last punch. I. Will. Get. You., the Slytherin mumbled between gritted teeth. GET HIM! SHOW HIM HIS COWARDOUS WAYS WON'T SAVE HIM! NOT FROM US! TEAR HIM TO SHREDS! With a bloodthirsty howl the Norwegian sprinted after Dmitri and started punching him. He would not rest until he fell to the ground and stopped moving. Not before the wolf inside him was satisfied. But it seemed it wasn't as of yet.

HUNGER! WE CRAVE MORE BLOOD! FINISH THE WAILING VERMIN! GIVER HER WHAT SHE ASKS FOR! SHOW HER THE REAL MEANING OF PAIN!
Oh, I'll show her! As fast as he could he made his way towards his Quidditch co-captain and gave her a front kick to the face.

It could have worked almost started to work. Until an older boy came into her peripherals and assaulted her face. Santario had been kissed on the forehead, on the cheeks, and her papa’s favorite place the very tip of her nose. Never had anyone deigned to try and kiss her eyeball… until today. She would recoil away from both boys, a hand moving up to her eye to cover it with a verbal noise of disgust. It would not be in her nature to continue to stop Erik against Dmitri because, as far as she was concerned, he was avenging her poor eyeball.

Helplessness started to creep in again; she couldn’t stop this, and of course, she couldn’t; she was just a twelve-year-old girl, how could she stop something like this that was orchestrated by powers so much greater than all of them put together. She knew Erik wouldn’t stop until everyone in his way was down, and this wouldn’t lead to anything good… Ever. She did the only thing that she thought she could do next.

Santario turned to Victor dropping her hand to properly look at him, her eye slightly bloodshot from the unexpected assault. “Victor, Please stop him… Please. Stop him gently as you can and let me take him out of the ring until it is over. Please, he won’t stop unless someone can stop him.” Begging Victor felt like her last chance… That or try again and befallen to the beast raging beneath the boy's skin.

Action 1| Plotting against Dmi for the future silently.
Action 2| Pleading with Victor to make Erik unconciouse.

| Stats |
Stamina| 5 | Evasion| 5 | Strength| 3 | Wisdom| 8 | Arcane Power| 7 |Accuracy| 7 |
| Ability |
Healing Sage

"Will you leave if I lie?"

Jack felt himself freeze up at Victor's inquiry, ceasing the inward fires of his rage for a split second.

"Then I tell you, I am fine. A master of my own destiny and capable of saving myself."

The Welsh boy's thick brows narrowed and he grit his teeth harder than before. However, before he could unclench them to say anything in response, Bleach-hair had distracted them with his eyeball-kissing feat resulting from his failed Tyranni Tactic. And then, of course, there was the blood smearing; something that caused someone to utter a series of 'no's over and over.

When Jack looked back at Victor again, he was shaking, his pupils dialated in a way that caused the younger Slytherin to forget nearly all his previous anger with the older boy. "Victor...?" he uttered softly, taking a step toward him. "Victor, what's the matter?"

Following the green gaze back to Bleach-hair, Jack tried to make sense of what had just happened. Yes, blood had been involved. And by now, after the Blossom Ball incident, the redhead had learned quite a bit more than he'd wanted to about blood magic's existence. However, he must not have known enough, because something still didn't make sense to him.

"Victor..." he murmured, eyes unfocusing as he thought. "If Bleach Boy used Tharaldson's blood to...do whatever he needed to do with it...why is it Bleach Boy who's being affected and not Tharaldson?" Was it even blood magic that was causing this trouble in the first place, or something else? Whatever it was, it seemed way beyond his knowledge level, even with his advanced studying.

His expression darkened with intense concern when he felt the warmth at his back which seemed to radiate from the young man who had always felt cold to the touch except when he'd been on fire. Victor seemed to start to say something, then hesitated before continuing. Jack didn't like the use of the phrase, 'put him down', but he didn't much like the threat of Vlad's involvement, either.

"Nothing here is fine. I'm not leaving you down here. We're either both going or neither of us are," he told Victor firmly. Then, however, he heard another voice calling out to the burn victim.

It was Santario. She was begging Victor to stop Erik; to stop him gently. However, Jack was getting the highly-uncomfortable impression that whatever way Victor or Vlad intended to or knew how to stop Erik with, there wouldn't be anything 'gentle' about it. He didn't like the thought of the Slytherin girl putting her trust in the horribly-weakened and hurt Victor without knowing what he was and wasn't capable of, nor what he was and wasn't willing to do. Besides, there was someone he thought had a better chance of settling things peacefully than the older boy.

"If anyone's going to be able to stop him gently, it's you, Martin," Jack called to her, cupping his hands around his mouth to allow his voice to carry to her. "Aren't you his friend? You almost snapped him out of it before you were inturrupted. Third time's a charm, right?"

There were so many people Jack owed here. He owed Erik for his selfless acts previously, Victor for his same selfless assistance of Jack to the nurse's office when he was hurt, and even Bleach-hair for having kept Amara for having assulted him any more than she had prior to his getting involved for what appeared to be Jack's sake. He couldn't just let them all down.

Bleach-hair was beyond Jack's help at the moment because there was nothing he thought he could do to stop Erik from hurting him. If he ran in blindly, he would just probably fuel Erik's bloodlust more and result in getting just as beat up if not more than Bleach-hair. That would have also left Victor vulnerable and open to attack. It wouldn't have helped anyone.

However, if he could encourage San to snap Erik out of it, perhaps he could indirectly manage to save both Erik and Victor. Victor wouldn't be forced to do...whatever he thought he needed to do to put down Erik. And Erik wouldn't end up having to be...well, 'put down'.

Jack glanced back over his shoulder at Victor once again. "What, exactly, did Bleach Boy manage to do with that blood? And why are you radiating heat all of a sudden?"

Action 1: Assure Victor he's not leaving the basement without him
Action 2: Try to convince San to try to snap Erik out of it again
Action 3: Ask Victor what, exactly, had happened with the blood and why he's radiating heat

Health: 360/500
Stats: Sta: 5 || Eva: 7 || Str: 3 || Wis: 8 || AP: 6 || Acc: 6
Ability: Prodigal Charms Learner

Interacting with: @Victor Moore, @Dmitri Jones, @Erik Tharldson, & @Santario Martin

Group 7
[6] Amara Dragamior - unconscious, dragged from the ring by Santario.
[13] Santario Martin - attempting to stop Erik from fighting; kissed in the eyeball by Dmitri; 499 health remaining
[30] Calvon Faux - unconscious
[31] Tyranni Whitethorn - 12 health remaining, asked to end her misery.

Group 8
[3] Jack Burnett - mildly battered, 360 health remains; being Victor's frail body guard.
[17] Dmitri Jones - smuggling a spooder; punched. Disorient Effect: 5% chance that they will auto-miss their attacks for the next 3 rounds. Kissed San in the eye. Painted a rune with his blood and he is now in crippling pain; unconscious
[21] Ruby Cazares - did nothing
[22] Erik Tharldson - kicking ass and taking names; 510 health remains

Erik was not going to stop, not after what Dmitri tried to do. Not after what he had done. Even if there was no trespass committed, the boy had tasted blood and now he would only want more. He would not go for Santario yet, there were greater quarries perhaps.

@Erik Tharaldson attempts to use Hammer Fist on @Dmitri Jones
Attack 13 + 0 + 5
Evasion 15 + 5

The wild swing would miss the boy once again. Not that Dmitri was safe. He would feel as if his very essence was being drained from him, a sentiment that was not entirely far from the truth. @Santario Martin would give Dmitri the stink eye with her remaining baby blue. Despite the indignity of it all, the innocence of her gaze lost, he did not deserve to suffer death

Erik did not share her sentiment.

@Erik Tharaldson attempts to use Uppercut on @Dmitri Jones
Attack 16 + 0 + 5
Evasion 3 + 5
20*8.8 = 176

Dmitri would not escape Erik twice. Erik was not hindered by Santario's protests or Dmitri's apparent suffering as he brutally leveled the final 'killing' blow. His knuckles would hit the teen's chiseled jaw, forcing his head sharply back. His teeth would click together hard. He would be sent staggering back. Pale, more so than usual as the perpetual shade of sickly pallid bedsheet white was the Slytherin's norm. He would collapse, rendered unconscious by Erik's final attack, Santario would make her appeal to Victor.

Yes, the girl with the pretty eyes and long dark hair would call out to him. Victor froze when she used his name, she did not understand the power it held. How it gripped his heart to know someone as fair as her remembered it. How it broke his heart that he could not do her bidding.

He shook his head, he was going to say something when Jack interceded. He gave her a truth she did not want to hear, but one that Victor agreed with. "You have greater sway than a broken man," he did not call himself a boy "ever could." Besides, there is nothing he could do to overpower the boy that would be kind. Even if it would make a nice girl happy. The edges of his lips twitched downward as he watched the somber scene.

The heat that exuded from his body would be brief. But it would not go unnoticed. Jack felt it. That temporary heat, like a calefactory, however brief. Jack asked, he would answer. "It's the runes," Victor muttered through gritted teeth. His brow furrowed, he looked as if he was in pain as he answered Jack. He was breathing fast and heavy, as if he was counting his breaths, keeping his mine fixed on a task even if it was something as simple and routine as breathing.

Don't panic. Just breathe. It will be fine.

"It is going to consume him," Victor announced as his voice shook and his eyes wide. He was referring to the rune, the only thing that was keeping them 'safe.' Safe being a relative word of course, the only risk they had was the violence they inflicted onto another. "The- I-" he tried to muster the words as he extended his arm to push Jack away with his palm.

Victor pushes Jack Burnett away.
Attack 2
Evasion 3

His hand was not as weak, his push had power. He never answered Jack as to why, why he felt so warm. No fire, just heat. "There is only one Victor," he announced. He ripped off a piece of his shirt, a makeshift rag. His taut, pale flesh beneath a tangle of blackened lines beneath alabaster flesh. He was too thin, sickly even. The darkness was no shock, his curse was never a secret, just a subject that was never discussed.

Victor wipes up the blood next to Dmitri.

A small, blood-smeared rag processed Erik's vital life fluid. If more remained on his [Dmitri's] hand, he would take away the red paint. Erik was already off to destroy another, the semi-active girl that was barely standing. He only had two opponents standing, one appeared to want nothing less than to fight. He would shove the bloodied rag into his pocket. "Forfeit, leave him no opponent!" Victor demanded. "Forfeit and I can stop him," he repeated as his knees buckled. Had Jack followed, he would feel the wave of cold return to the boy now that the rune was clean.

The one thing the children were unwilling to do -- to admit defeat. To allow the strongest or the most willing to inflict violence to pass. They wanted to stand there, make a spectacle but do nothing, be active observers that take no action. The contradiction of their nature was laughable.

@Erik Tharaldson attempts to use Front Kick @Tyranni Whitethorn
Attack 12 + 0 + 5
Evasion 16 + 7

Erik would miss Tyranni again, the reckless assault failed to consider how agile the little girl was. How inaccurate he was. He chose attacks seemingly based on convenience rather than utility. It only takes a drop, a drop of his blackened blood to bring him to safety. A drop Victor would squeeze from his finger, into Dmitri's mouth.

Feeds Dmitri his blood.

Like Alexander, his body would then contort and twist. He would walk, like a maddened crab from the arena. It would last but seconds before he would collapse in a heap in the corner, far from the ring. "Thirty one already requested a finishing blow, you're the final opponent." Victor announced, his voice weakening from the apparent exertion.