First Year Entrance
Rascal's grin only widened as Kahira lectured them on manners. "So if ya were a bloke I could tell ya that you look a mess? Seems unfair. And I wouldn't've had to tread on ya if you'd moved when I asked, not my fault." They merely shrug with a smirk.
Rascal had noticed Zayn hadn't answered the very generous invitation to their entourage, presumably the boy was just thinking it over.
The latest entrant was intriguing. Pretty, and seemingly irritating to Kahira, which Rascal was quickly finding to be one of their new hobbies.
Their attention returned to Kahira when she began waffling on about how she was going to be on the Slytherin Quidditch team and beat everyone else. Rascal scoffs. "So you're tellin' me you're that annoyed by a bit o' dirt on your robes but not only do you wanna play Quidditch ya also wanna live in a musty ol' dungeon?" They laugh heartily. "Ya know what? I respect it, that's commitment to having a miserable time. As for me I don't really care which house I wind up in, they'll be pretty damn lucky to have me."
As Kahira began talking to Zayn about their family homes Rascal caught a glimpse of something, a shadowy shape drifting beneath their boat. "Hey guys, check it out." No response from the others. "Oi! Something's underneath us." Rascal would attempt again. If they were being ignored they would keep pestering until ignoring them became impossible, though if that didn't work, then the voice of the Caretaker would likely snap them to attention.
@Kahira Valerian
@Zayn Al-Ashmuni
@Zyva Hel Fae Skógrwight
Rascal had noticed Zayn hadn't answered the very generous invitation to their entourage, presumably the boy was just thinking it over.
The latest entrant was intriguing. Pretty, and seemingly irritating to Kahira, which Rascal was quickly finding to be one of their new hobbies.
Their attention returned to Kahira when she began waffling on about how she was going to be on the Slytherin Quidditch team and beat everyone else. Rascal scoffs. "So you're tellin' me you're that annoyed by a bit o' dirt on your robes but not only do you wanna play Quidditch ya also wanna live in a musty ol' dungeon?" They laugh heartily. "Ya know what? I respect it, that's commitment to having a miserable time. As for me I don't really care which house I wind up in, they'll be pretty damn lucky to have me."
As Kahira began talking to Zayn about their family homes Rascal caught a glimpse of something, a shadowy shape drifting beneath their boat. "Hey guys, check it out." No response from the others. "Oi! Something's underneath us." Rascal would attempt again. If they were being ignored they would keep pestering until ignoring them became impossible, though if that didn't work, then the voice of the Caretaker would likely snap them to attention.
@Kahira Valerian
@Zayn Al-Ashmuni
@Zyva Hel Fae Skógrwight
STA: 5 | EVA: 10 | STR: 10 | WIS: 0 | ARC: 0 | ACC: 10
Prodigal Flying |
Prodigal Flying |
First Year Entrance
@Elara Whitlock: "I just meant that it appeared really quickly. The lake was clear when we started moving. Then there was that light under the boats, and the fog came after."
Alfie frowned. He hadn’t seen the light under the boats. He looked over the edge of the boat now, but all he saw was black.
Elara Whitlock: "Do you think something in the lake could have caused it?"
Alfie wanted to say no, but now that he knew magic was real he couldn’t dismiss the môrforwyn1 stories he had grown up with. Their appearances were often preceded by an unnatural fog, because of their ability to control the weather. Some people said that if you saw môr-forynion through a heavy fog, that it was an omen of death or disaster. In other tales, they were benevolent, and even warned people if a storm was coming. Those were the exceptions though. Usually the môr-forynion were pissed about something.
“I’m not sure.” He didn’t like broadcasting his ignorance, but he was beginning to think that now was a time to make an exception. He wanted to ask what the others knew about magical creatures, the real stuff, not the muggle legends. Before he could form the question though his thoughts were interrupted by the caretaker’s voice. It was directed not toward the children, but to the man in the sky but in the still air the sound carried.
Mahdi Hassan: “Watch the far side of the fog. If anything comes close, tell me.”
Okay, that didn’t sound comforting. He’d said “any-thing” not any one. He wouldn’t have said it that way if he meant people in rescue boats. “Any-thing” sounded singular not plural, but Alfie wasn’t comforted by that either. Now he was imagining one really big thing.
Mahdi Hassan: “The boats are stable. You are not going to fall in. Not unless you decide to make my evening worse.”
Now, that had been addressed to the children. Alfie sighed. It was typical of an adult to give a lecture rather than explain what was happening. He turned his attention back to the black water of the lake.
That was when a pale light flared at the bow of the boat, illuminating the water. Alfie tensed and at almost the same time he heard it. A voice.
“Tell me I’m not the only one hearing that.”
There were no words. Only humming. Alfie looked ahead and behind, but the voice was not coming from either of the nearest boats. If anything, it sounded much too close. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?
All Alfie could think of was the stories of môr-forynion, luring sailors to their doom. No one ever said they hummed. Alfie edged toward the side of the boat closest to the light. He stared into the water. He knew he should be frightened, but he’d always wanted to see a môrforwyn.
By now, he could vaguely hear voices in the other boats raised as if something had caused their passengers to stir. But Alfie was focused on the humming and didn't want to look away from the water.
Alfie frowned. He hadn’t seen the light under the boats. He looked over the edge of the boat now, but all he saw was black.
Elara Whitlock: "Do you think something in the lake could have caused it?"
Alfie wanted to say no, but now that he knew magic was real he couldn’t dismiss the môrforwyn1 stories he had grown up with. Their appearances were often preceded by an unnatural fog, because of their ability to control the weather. Some people said that if you saw môr-forynion through a heavy fog, that it was an omen of death or disaster. In other tales, they were benevolent, and even warned people if a storm was coming. Those were the exceptions though. Usually the môr-forynion were pissed about something.
“I’m not sure.” He didn’t like broadcasting his ignorance, but he was beginning to think that now was a time to make an exception. He wanted to ask what the others knew about magical creatures, the real stuff, not the muggle legends. Before he could form the question though his thoughts were interrupted by the caretaker’s voice. It was directed not toward the children, but to the man in the sky but in the still air the sound carried.
Mahdi Hassan: “Watch the far side of the fog. If anything comes close, tell me.”
Okay, that didn’t sound comforting. He’d said “any-thing” not any one. He wouldn’t have said it that way if he meant people in rescue boats. “Any-thing” sounded singular not plural, but Alfie wasn’t comforted by that either. Now he was imagining one really big thing.
Mahdi Hassan: “The boats are stable. You are not going to fall in. Not unless you decide to make my evening worse.”
Now, that had been addressed to the children. Alfie sighed. It was typical of an adult to give a lecture rather than explain what was happening. He turned his attention back to the black water of the lake.
That was when a pale light flared at the bow of the boat, illuminating the water. Alfie tensed and at almost the same time he heard it. A voice.
“Tell me I’m not the only one hearing that.”
There were no words. Only humming. Alfie looked ahead and behind, but the voice was not coming from either of the nearest boats. If anything, it sounded much too close. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?
All Alfie could think of was the stories of môr-forynion, luring sailors to their doom. No one ever said they hummed. Alfie edged toward the side of the boat closest to the light. He stared into the water. He knew he should be frightened, but he’d always wanted to see a môrforwyn.
By now, he could vaguely hear voices in the other boats raised as if something had caused their passengers to stir. But Alfie was focused on the humming and didn't want to look away from the water.
--------------------------------Boat 3
Staring into the water near the bow where the runes flared and listening to the humming.
Plans change. See this post.
Welsh Vocabulary and English colloquialisms used in Wales:
Reducio
1môrforwyn Welsh, n.f.(mor-VOHR-win) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Sea maiden. Usually translated in English as mermaid.
From Welsh môr 'sea' and morwyn 'maiden/virgin'.
In Welsh folklore, môrforwyn are shape-shifters capable of taking a human or aquatic form.
The plural of môrforwyn is môr-forynion.
Last edited by Alfie Owen on 1 Oct 2026, 22:05, edited 2 times in total.
| x x x |
Stamina - 6 | Evasion - 6 | Strength - 2 | Wisdom - 7 | Arcane Power - 4| Accuracy - 5 |
x x x |
First Year Entrance
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Date: 1 September 2026
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Boat 3 |
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Action listening to the humming |
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First Year Entrance
Boat 1
Jeremy's explanation that grindylows weren't terribly scary would've been reassuring if Jo wasn't becoming increasingly certain that grindylows were not what the caretaker was worried about. Not just because he'd been so quick to reassure Jeremy, but because he seemed principally concerned with the fog, even calling out to the man in the fog (apparently a professor) to keep an eye out for something in it. Jo's hand tightened on her wand. Her chest was suddenly feeling very tight with an emotion that sat somewhere between anticipation and apprehension, and she felt the urge to start bouncing her leg up and down in a way not dissimilar from Strike.
Surely nothing too bad could be in the lake. The lake that sat mere feet away from actual children for the better part of the year.
Unless something bad had moved in during the summer, when the school was emptier than usual. The thought prompted Jo to cast an annoyed glance at Mr. Hassan. Wasn't it the caretaker's job to notice if something like that had happened? Jo's annoyance was further compounded when the man did nothing to acknowledge Jo's question or Jeremy's response. Jo rather felt they were entitled to some answers here.
Especially when the knocking came.
To Jo's eternal shame, she flinched a little, startled as she was by the sharp sounds among the tense atmosphere and the lapping of the waves. The realisation made her scowl, a scowl that she immediately turned on Mr. Hassan.
"That sounded like knocking. That sounded intentional," she said, her tone accusatory. How many water creatures were smart enough to do something like that? Best case scenario, something was swimming right below the boat and accidentally bumping up against it in what seemed like a regular pattern, and that was an unnerving thought in itself. "What are you doing?" she asked Mr. Hassan quietly as the man took out his wand and started tapping. "Did whatever make the noise do something to the boats?"
Jo couldn't help herself. Despite the warning against moving, she craned her neck to stare down the side of the boat, where mist pooled against its base, and stared as hard as she could, to see if she could catch sight of the culprit.
(Actions: Jo tries to catch a glimpse of whatever knocked on their boat.
Mentions: @Mahdi Hassan, @Jeremy Slater, @Strike Allen, @Ruckus Weems)
Mentions: @Mahdi Hassan, @Jeremy Slater, @Strike Allen, @Ruckus Weems)
First Year Entrance
Strike's restlessness - or was it anxiety? Perhaps a combination of both - began to grow as the peculiar, sudden fog rolled in. The disembodied voice from somewhere above them did not help. Nor did the slowing of the boat.
Jeremy was asking if the caretaker knew the Sorting Hat. Jo asked what a grindylow was and who was addressing the caretaker and what was wrong with the fog. Strike carefully absorbed all he could from his surroundings, trying to remain as aware of everything as possible.
Jeremy's explanation of what a grindylow was wasn't exactly comforting, especially because none of them except the one adult (or two, now...?) with them really knew how to use magic yet, so it didn't seem like much of an assurance that the water demons could be driven off easily with it. Still, Strike was also able to glean, from what Jeremy said to Mr. Hassan, at least some of what a caretaker's job entailed at Hogwarts. That was a welcome bit of knowledge he was able to distract himself with - for about two seconds.
There were so few people who knew magic compared to how many of them were on boats in the water. If a hoard of grindylows suddenly decided to attack all the boats at once, they would be done for. Mr. Hassan had asked Strike to take a breath and count all the other kids on all the boats for him to make sure no one had fallen in, but Strike wasn't sure how many kids there were even supposed to be in the first place. Not to mention the fog was making everyone and everything increasingly harder to see. Perhaps if he told the caretaker how many students he counted, Mr. Hassan would know if that was the correct number that there should have been or not.
Professor Weems? The voice carrying to them was a professor? If a professor seemed worried and the caretaker seemed equally tense, something was definitely wrong.
A hand on his knee - not unlike the hands of his parents when they tried to still his ceaselessly-moving body - caused Strike to jerk his head over, only to see that the hand belonged to neither of his parents or a grindylow, but to Jeremy. "Sorry," he said automatically, forcing his knee to stop bouncing immediately. His peer seemed to try to make him feel better by assuring him that he was excited, too, but Strike's answering uneasy smile belied the slowly-creeping realization that had begun to overtake the blond.
Evidently, he was finding out very quickly that he did not do well in small, cramped spaces. Not that the boat was particularly small or cramped...but with no leeway to move around or practically move at all, Strike felt so stifled that he may as well have been tied down. He couldn't fly, couldn't swim, couldn't pace, couldn't rock...and now that the boat had slowed, the hopes of reaching the castle (and its steps to race up) quickly began to dwindle and die. For a boy used to being active nearly any chance he could, the anticipation was torture. Tense, restless energy began to coil up in Strike the more he tried to suppress it, like a loaded spring. He had to do something.
Leaning over the side of the boat to try to get a better look at the occupants of the others on the water, Strike took his orders from Mr. Hassan seriously and obediently began to count what students he could see. One, two, three...was that Alfie in the other boat? He knew they were supposed to be quiet, but maybe Strike could wave to Alfie and get him to see them!
The blond moved to lean further over the boat edge, trying his best to get Alfie's attention with an enthusiastic wave. They had been assured by the caretaker that the boats were steady and would not overturn, so the Greek boy didn't worry about that. Unfortunately, he failed to realize that that safeguard did not mean the boats' occupants were kept from tipping over into the lake themselves.
Strike's tense body was so startled by the abrupt knocking on the underside of the hull that he pitched forward. Had the boat been less steady, it might have swayed to re-establish the balance against his sudden movement. As it was, however, solid and firm from the runes carved into it, the kid was not drawn back by what might have normally been the swaying boat's momentum. He was too shocked to even make a noise as he slipped over the enchanted vessel's edge.
In Boat 1 with:
@Jeremy Slater, @Josephine Byrne, @Ruckus Weems, @Mahdi Hassan, & @Alfie Owen
Action: Falling...into...the lake...? 8D;
2nd Gen PC: Strike Allen
1st Gen PC: Jack Burnett | iNPC: Ginyami Midorimori | Former staff account: Kit Paine
First Year Entrance
Jeremy usually had pretty good faith when grown-ups said they had things under control. This was Hogwarts, and while a lot of bad things happened there, he'd heard they usually eventually got things under control.
As the boat began to shake, Jeremy was a little less sure of himself.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Mr. Hassan (who, frustratingly, had ignored all of his most important questions), told them not to move, which Jeremy thought was a ridiculous thing to say.
“Move? Where are we supposed to go?!” Jeremy squeaked back, his voice quivering a bit with equal parts nerves and frustration. Move? They were surrounded by water! They were staying here one way or the other, it wasn’t like there was any other choice. His tone was one that his mum would have been appalled at him for 'sassing an adult' but Jeremy didn't see how it should count as 'sassing' if he was just pointing things out that were obvious or true.
The man bent down, tapping his hand to the boat. Jeremy had just enough time to notice the runes and wonder which ones they were, and what they did, when the silver faded. Jeremy didn't know what that meant, but he didn't like it.
Come to think of it, @Strike Allen had looked a little jumpy before. Jeremy turned to his kinda-friend to assure him (and himself) that everything was probably gonna be ok. "It's alright, it---" he started, only to see Strike was gone. Eyes widening, Jeremy darted to the edge.
"Strike!" Jer shouted, peering at his kinda-friend who had fallen into the lake with the whatever-it-was. He didn't know what to do, and he didn't really think about what it was that he was doing. "Hold on to this!" he shouted, yanking out his wand and thrusting it towards the deep, to try to give some anchor to the boy who had been kind to him and shared his spana...spana-whatever-it-was.
“DO YOU STILL HAVE THIS UNDER CONTROL?” Jeremy shouted up at Mr. Hassan, his too-small arm straining over the boat's edge in vain, leaning as far as he could, but still unable to reach the flailing/drifting boy even with the extra reach of his wand.
@Mahdi HassanAction: Jeremy holds a wand in vain out to Strike, and judges Mahdi Hassan
First Year Entrance
Plans change.
There was no movement in the water closest to Alfie's boat, but there was movement at the periphery of his vision. Alfie glanced up and forward, in the direction of the lead boat where something had caught his attention.
He knew immediately who it was. It would have been clear to him even if @Strike Allen hadn't had such a distinctive nimbus of golden hair. Hadn't, just minutes before, Alfie seen his housemates Strike Allen, @Josephine Byrne, and @Jeremy Slater file into the first boat with the caretaker, leaving Alfie no room to join them, forcing Alfie to take potluck with strangers in one of the other boats? (Not that he was bitter or anything.) It was only worth noting to explain that Alfie knew exactly who he was looking at when Strike Allen raised his hand and waved.
Confused, Alfie forced a weak smile. He lifted his hand to return the wave. That was when Strike Allen tumbled over the side of his boat and into the water.
Later, when asked, Alfie would say that he acted on instinct rather than reason. He would say that all thought other than Strike’s safety had left his mind.
This, of course, would be a lie.
The chief thing Alfie thought of was Strike Allen’s broom. What had he called it? A firebolt? Whatever. It was a nice broom. Really nice. The sort of parents who could afford to buy their darling little progeny an expensive broom like that were exactly the sort of parents who could afford to be generous to the boy who saved the life of their only son and heir. And even if Strike's parents didn’t cough up, (Alfie reasoned) Strike was exactly the sort of boy that you want to have indebted to you. Alfie had sized that up the moment he met him: A nice boy. A wealthy boy. An extremely useful boy.
Alfie was neither nice nor wealthy, but growing up in Holyhead had made him an excellent swimmer. He stood and, without hesitation, he dove into the waters of the dark lake.
There was no movement in the water closest to Alfie's boat, but there was movement at the periphery of his vision. Alfie glanced up and forward, in the direction of the lead boat where something had caught his attention.
He knew immediately who it was. It would have been clear to him even if @Strike Allen hadn't had such a distinctive nimbus of golden hair. Hadn't, just minutes before, Alfie seen his housemates Strike Allen, @Josephine Byrne, and @Jeremy Slater file into the first boat with the caretaker, leaving Alfie no room to join them, forcing Alfie to take potluck with strangers in one of the other boats? (Not that he was bitter or anything.) It was only worth noting to explain that Alfie knew exactly who he was looking at when Strike Allen raised his hand and waved.
Confused, Alfie forced a weak smile. He lifted his hand to return the wave. That was when Strike Allen tumbled over the side of his boat and into the water.
Later, when asked, Alfie would say that he acted on instinct rather than reason. He would say that all thought other than Strike’s safety had left his mind.
This, of course, would be a lie.
The chief thing Alfie thought of was Strike Allen’s broom. What had he called it? A firebolt? Whatever. It was a nice broom. Really nice. The sort of parents who could afford to buy their darling little progeny an expensive broom like that were exactly the sort of parents who could afford to be generous to the boy who saved the life of their only son and heir. And even if Strike's parents didn’t cough up, (Alfie reasoned) Strike was exactly the sort of boy that you want to have indebted to you. Alfie had sized that up the moment he met him: A nice boy. A wealthy boy. An extremely useful boy.
Alfie was neither nice nor wealthy, but growing up in Holyhead had made him an excellent swimmer. He stood and, without hesitation, he dove into the waters of the dark lake.
Action: Alfie dives off the bow of boat 3. If nothing prevents it, he will swim in the direction of Strike Allen. (With every intention of being a big damn hero.)
| x x x |
Stamina - 6 | Evasion - 6 | Strength - 2 | Wisdom - 7 | Arcane Power - 4| Accuracy - 5 |
x x x |
First Year Entrance
saturnalia sutton-smith
Saturnalia's chest grew tighter as more time passed on, the unusual happenings not ceasing. The adult in charge didn't do much to help that either- in fact, he probably stressed her out more. Shouldn't they be doing something?
Her hands, clutched tight, no longer had a gentle spray of water upon them- they weren't moving forward any longer. It was odd, because she still felt like they were moving. Not like, she was still moving forward, but there was this strange sensation, this low hum that traveled from her feet through her bones and settled in her jaw. She couldn't hear anything from it, but she knew it was there, a low frequency that shook her to her core in more ways than one.
"Is it... supposed to... do that?" she asked the other girl (@Jen Noor) in her boat, hoping she might know something that she didn't. Maybe she knew what was happening.
“The boats are stable. You are not going to fall in. Not unless you decide to make my evening worse.”
Maybe someone should tell him about the strange vibrations from the boat... but it certainly wasn't going to be her.
She thought she'd heard a story like this before, in primary school. There was this boat, the Titanic, and everyone thought it was unsinkable. Then it hit an iceberg, and everyone thought it was fine, but then it was sinking and there weren't enough lifeboats or lifevests and it was terrible.
Just then, a horrible thought fell into Saturnalia's head.
Did they hit an iceberg?
Where were the lifejackets? They were already on little boats... did they have lifeboats on these boats?
Nothing she was doing or thinking was doing much to help her nerves. The hot tears that had stung her eyes had made their way down her cheeks, her hands still frozen against the boat. How embarrassing. She hated it, she hated it, she hated how open and vulnerable she was here, and everyone would surely see her crying, before classes had even started. And surely they were judging her, and staring at her, and whispering all sorts of things. She wished she could just turn it off. She hated feeling like this.
But no matter what she did, still, that same clench in her stomach, the same lump in her throat, the same tightness in her chest, they all came back, persistent, never leaving her. Her breathing had slowed its pace a little, but still remained erratic as she tried to steady it, shaking her head to try and get her to focus.
In... out. Remember. In... out.
She tried to focus on the feeling of the wood beneath her fingertips, something tangible to hold on to. Instead, she found herself thinking of how her hands were starting to hurt, to grow sore from the way she clenched them so tightly, but no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't let go of the boat- it was her safety, even if it was no longer safe.
action: deathgripping the side of the boat
sic itur ad aspera
First Year Entrance
Mentions @Alfie Owen @Elara WhitlockMaya was in deep thought. Something was going seriously wrong and she started to think the adults here weren’t really doing anything to help with the process.
Then she heard the caretaker’s voice again. He was telling them that the boats were stable so they would not fall in. That was good, Maya supposed. She wasn’t planning to dive deep into the water and ruin her day, or face something dangerous.
Then suddenly Maya heard something. It was like a sound of humming and sounded so close, very close in fact that she glanced at the other boats but the sound sounded like it was coming just from their own boat. She suddenly felt very unlucky. She never had expected to face an issue like that, before even arriving at Hogwarts! That made her feel kinda bitter, she tightened her grip on the boat and leaned in to hear the humming voice better. Maybe she could’ve figured it out..she just wanted to know the source of the voice. Was it a creature under the sea? Some spell someone casted? Maya was very confused, it was supposed to be safe after all here.
Alfie and Elara seemed to hear the voice too. They were all paying attention to it. When Elara went back to her seat, Maya and Alfie were still looking, listening. In the back of her mind, Maya thought she should sit down too, but before she could really consider that she heard a sudden voice of a splash of water. She immediately turned towards where the voice was coming from.
Someone had fell down. Maya’s eyes got widened as a response. The caretaker had said the boats were stable, the boat she saw was looking stable indeed, but someone still managed to fall somehow. Maya honestly couldn’t believe it.
What surprised her more was something else though, for some reason Alfie dove into the lake, to save the boy who fell down. Maya shouted his name in shock but it was no use at all.
First Year Entrance
───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Nature's first green is gold, / Her hardest hue to hold.
So dawn goes down to day. / Nothing gold can stay.
───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Alluring in Effect
Aura of "Charm" Present ─ Beauty so indescribable, a maddening need to prevent its destruction arose...
Nature's first green is gold, / Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower; / But only so an hour. |  | Then leaf subsides to leaf. / So Eden sank to grief, |
───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Alluring in Effect
Aura of "Charm" Present ─ Beauty so indescribable, a maddening need to prevent its destruction arose...
|| | She smiled demurely back at the boy who nodded respectfully to her before she took in the beautiful sights of the broad and glassy black lake more fully. There was something entrancing about the thought of the fathomless, about the idea of the cold world beneath placid water not terribly unlike the world of land beneath the night skies and the world above the skies as well. The composed girl seemed not to take kindly to her. That was fine. She was more than willing to accept the sizing-up and distaste so long as there was an unspoken understanding between them to keep the primal peace. The boats finally left the water's edge, cutting through the blackness and creating wakes that left smooth and small Vs on either side of the bow. The wind was calm, for now. Zyva quite enjoyed the feel of the cool breeze through her hair that tickled her neck and filled her senses with the taste and smell of the night and of the water tinged with algae and freshwater fish. Creatures to hunt and catch... Her eyes had been closed when the mist began to creep over the lake, and the air began to sing with collective agitation that caused the Veela to open her eyes at last with a calm regard. Fear tasted like iron and smelled of hot breath and sweat. It meant blood was nearby... or that it was concealing a true object of terror as the lights beneath the boats flickered and struggled to hold its weave together. "Don't move." The invocation of those hopeless words caused a tiny lift of amusement in her lips and a dark twinkle in her eye. The starts of panic. A delectable word. And the invocation, an order to refuse her madness, would inevitably result in distress claiming her rightful place in minds and hearts. What a foolish thing to do. "Unless it knows." She mused aloud, almost to herself, her syllables slow and precise and tinged with a strong Norwegian cadence. The smile increased slightly as she peered over the edge with a minute turn of her head to watch the shadow beneath; the elusive, large, dark animal that could very well be that of the World Serpent itself. "Then still make you easy prey." The noisy one called attention to it as well, and she nodded to the affirmative. A splash caused her ears to perk, and ripples on the surface and the immediate scream of another child made it obvious what had happened. "Ah. Sacrifice. Perhaps it work. Perhaps not." Her voice was calm, quiet, and she was indeed holding perfectly still despite her every muscle being prepared for instant reaction. She was not prey. Not here. Not now. Another followed the first in. A heroic attempt, to be sure, but foolhardy while the creature lurked nearby. There were larger things to concern oneself with at the moment. Once was misfortune, two was folly─three was simply the late stage of hysteria, like lemmings off the side of the bluff. | || |
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Action: Zyva observes the dark shadow (Perception Check?)
1 / 2
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── Reducio
⟵⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⤛
──────────────────────────────────────
Stamina 4 ⟡ Strength 2 ⟡ Evasion 7
Wisdom 5 ⟡ Accuracy 5 ⟡ Arcane Power 7
──────────────────────────────────────
Half-Veela ─ Alluring ⟡ Fluency in Veela
⤜⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⟶
 | Zyva Hel Fae Skógrwight |
Stamina 4 ⟡ Strength 2 ⟡ Evasion 7
Wisdom 5 ⟡ Accuracy 5 ⟡ Arcane Power 7
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Half-Veela ─ Alluring ⟡ Fluency in Veela
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@Kahira Valerian, @Rascal Ragg & @Zayn Al-Ashmuni
We are such stuff / As dreams are made of, and our little life / Is rounded with a sleep.𓅀
I am the sister account to Piérre Marchonné & Romeo Marchonné