For Better and For Worse PV Closed

For worse.

Marion confirmed her status as a member of his hag coven when fleeing to the forest, and not the dungeons. Another stone unturned, hidden from his sight. The coerced boy has undergone layers of manipulation, even to this moment. Yet a reckless pursuit began, driven by an emotional teenager that thought there was nothing left he had to lose. Endangering those that chose to follow. Most notably Bridget and Santario, who came into vision in pursuit shortly after his departure.

His fitness was at its peak, made so by the rigorous ice hockey training through the summer. Evidenced by his nimble efforts in escaping Davenport’s reach, and furthered from the all black athletic jumpsuit he wisely donned. He may have caught Marion, if not for taking some time to inform his friends of a dire choice. A choice that came with an apology, indicating his repudiation for any trailing footsteps. Knowing full well if there was a trip back to the castle, blood and tears may share every step.

The running pace of Lestrange quickened, breaths growing shorter. From the rear, it may only appear he desired to catch Marion before she could reach the forest. Partly his intention, the other half to lose Bridget, Santario…and whoever else opted to chase the reaper. Exacting revenge is a motive, sure, paired with an absence of self-regard. It was another moment in a line of many that ascended his status to fearless.(Third Year Ability when I get around to writing it).

The boy turned his head back one too many times, the toe of his black sneaker catching a rock elevated over the grass surface. Initiating a wobbly series of stumbles before planting himself on his knees for a brief moment. Marion remained in his sights as he found her reaching the woodline, holding to encourage the boy’s witless pursuit. Two years older and none the wiser, then following out of helpless curiosity, remaining obtuse now on his reprisal track.

Pleasant scents invaded the nostrils of Lestrange, well aware of the ways a hag can manipulate what meets the common senses. Temporarily closing his eyes with a deep breath to recall the visual of this section of the woods, unable to find the memory of a clear path as was to be seen behind Marion. No trees left to linger before the facade of a inimical structure. As if the result of a kindergartner’s self-made gingerbread home, consuming parts upon its creation.

Rising to his feet, Thomas came to the conclusion the structure itself was no illusion. The illusion being a line of trees that previously obstructed the view. Stepping foot past the woodline would be an entry into a domain he was familiar with, yet only furthering the mismatch. If he was to defeat Davenport, the fight would need to be on his terms, with help from others.

Shattered glasses urged his attention on the ground between Davenport and Lestrange. Then vials of black liquid would morph into a developing black cloud, a series of shapes to follow until settling on a jet black septet of overgrown spiders, because why not. The famed spiders that invaded house Slytherin and cursed students that

A materialization of the living darkness. Which has shown itself to remain passive in Lestrange’s presence, yet subject to the command of the one who cultivates. In this case, Davenport, the keys of their intent seemingly in her grasp. She would sick the spiders on Lestrange and whatever friends chose to follow, trailing back to the structure with an ever-ominous smile.

”I was never disloyal. I did as I thought you intended.” Until now, obviously. Though Thomas would hint at the past between him and his coven. He certainly was a good boy until their end of the bargain underwent doubt. ”I brought you Ryan.” He would continue to remind Davenport about the evidence of his loyalty. ”I wrote the article.” Perhaps an askew offering, though Thomas subconsciously doing the bidding of the twisted sisters when he failed to place the sights on the school’s officials. "Joined the officials." Taking a position of power, swaying opinions and neglecting known truths amongst peers.

Ice blue eyes would flicker around the spiders in brewing anxiety. A hopelessness overwhelmed the senses, silent tears rolling down the boy’s cheeks. ”You abandoned me.” Implying the contract was first broken by the master. The boy brandished his wand, the useless piece of mayhaw wood that has yet to obey his command. Pulling it from his pocket, a slow draw with another hand to grip the cuff of his sleeve, wiping the tears away.

A glimpse of a thought left the most unlikely pairing of words on the tip of his tongue, eyes soft and defeated. Take me back.

Not much is happening over here.
Thomas is still being an idiot.
No actions taken.

Interactions: @Evelynn Decipio
Mentions: Santario Martin, Thomas Lestrange, Marion Davenport

The initial drizzle, only intermittent fat drops, soon gave way to a true storm, heavy rain and howling winds and the threatening crackle of lightning in the distance. This was not weather to be outside in, much less running in, the ground starting to become slick underfoot and water blowing into her eyes. But slowing was not an option because Thomas certainly wasn't, and with the hour and the cloud cover, it was concerningly dark. For one, she was scared she'd lose sight of him, and his completely black outfit really wasn't helping with that. That was why she hadn't gone for an adult when it occurred to her to: how much help would they be if they couldn't find them, the grounds vast and visibility low? For another, all sorts of things could be lurking in the dark, and as if this wasn't already a terrible idea, rushing in blind was another danger. If she could sprint and cast, or thought she wouldn't have fallen too far behind in slowing, she would have cast Lumos for the slight reassurance it would bring.

As much as she dreaded what might await them, she was mostly preoccupied with maintaining her footing and speed. For a single stretch, the only obstacle was the weather. Then she realized where they were going. That was the woodline they were approaching, the Forbidden Forest. The off-limits nature of it, coupled with proof in stories from friends, primarily hearing what had happened to Ravenclaw as well as Thomas' report of the hags dwelling within, had been enough to keep her well away from it. The mass of trees in front of them had overwhelmed an entire House, the three of them--no, four, the masked figure had followed, too--were no match for it. Speaking of, she risked a quick glance back to find the mask had come off, revealing a familiar auburn-haired individual. Evelynn. It was a briefly hopeful discovery, but quickly overwhelmed by the sense that despite the Gryffindor's proved competence, it was still unlikely to be enough.

Stopping was a relief, both as a chance to catch her breath after that prolonged sprint and because it meant they weren't plunging straight into the forest. Lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the downpour, she noted the unnatural split of the forest, leading to some sort of cottage. Marion within the treeline, them just beyond it, Thomas at least possessing enough brain cells for that.

All things considered, she wasn't thrown into immediate panic. Another second and she would have turned to Evelynn and Santario to work out a quick plan, or even tried to convince Thomas this wasn't worth it, but Marion shattering glass was attention-grabbingly loud and created a whole new set of problems. Inky black, eight-legged problems. Like they were crawling straight out of her nightmares, shadow spiders formed. And they were huge. She'd thought the arachnids of the attack over a year ago were big, but if not for the unmistakable shape of them, these would hardly qualify as spiders. Judging size was imperfect from this distance, her best guess that they were bigger than their faces. If shadow spiders did that sort of thing, they looked like they could eat her pet rat.

The shiver that came over her was definitely just from the soaking rain. Yep. Arachnophobia was only the half of it; she could have probably retained her composure had they been ordinary spiders, even oversized ones. But all evidence pointed towards these being the horrible things that had inflicted a curse on students, herself included, the effects still highly visible in her arm. Forget Marion, they were outnumbered by just the spiders, and frankly she was more scared of them. Whether that was rational was another question entirely.

Thomas was saying things, words thrown after Marion where he physically wouldn't follow. Normally she would have been intrigued by them, especially when her understanding had been that Thomas walked away from the hags, not that they'd abandoned him. She was, however, a little preoccupied with her brain providing an unhelpful review of what exactly had happened last time she faced these things, eyes too fixed on each and every hair-raising movement from the spiders to see him swipe at tears.

Last time had been horrible in many ways, and this was maybe the worst possible place for a repeat. Not to mention she was the only one already cursed, and though she'd noticed the recent development of Illowy's black veins going away, it was still unclear if they had a proper cure. Besides, being this far from the castle was a concern; what would happen if someone was bit and they couldn't get them to Thick Golden Potion quickly? Nothing good had been implied in regards to what might happen if the curse was allowed to run its course long enough. Walking with the excruciating pain would be a struggle, and what about succumbing to unconsciousness? And as if that wasn't enough, they could very well still have spiders coming at them, perhaps Marion herself closing in once they were vulnerable. No, this was bad.

Her eyes darted around, trying to size up the situation, to see if maybe there was a better spot from which to defend themselves. Wait... Evelynn's broom. "If anyone gets bit, you need to fly them back to the castle." She didn't know how familiar Evelynn was with the curse, but her tone and expression should convey the importance. It wasn't a full solution, but it was something. And then what? An escape plan was one thing, but she didn't want any of them getting cursed if she could help it. She was fairly sure don't let them bite you went without saying. There was, for once, an answer. That night in her second year, the spiders had disappeared when the room was bathed in light. She could replicate that, right? Create a lighted area, stop them before they could reach their position. Bridget certainly hoped so. Swallowing, she raised her hand to incant. "Lumos Maxima!"

Action: Casting Lumos Maxima
Stats: STA: 9 | EVA: 10 | STR: 7 | WIS: 11 | ARC: 8 | ACC: 10
Abilities: Sixth Sense | Evasive Maneuvers | Prodigal DADA Learner | Perfectionist
Outfit: Plaid-patterened dress
Inventory: Wand

T'was the storm that drove them to seek shelter. To hide from the winds and the rain. T'was not the quarry, the dangerous and deceptive dame that had been for the past several years playing the most dangerous game. Twas all lies, in truth it was a desperate act by a youth who lacked the witts, the will or the way to otherwise gain the power he so desperately coveted. A familiar scene truly, this was how they all ended in tears and in blood.

Marion ran for the treeline, knowing full well that the closer she came to the forest the closer she was to her kin. The coven of hags that she was born into. Yes, Marion was a hag. Formerly a witch. Nobody ever asked the right question when it came to her. There was a Marion Davenport, they looked nothing alike and she tasted like pork. A bit too fatty for her tastes but with enough wine she could choke just about anything down, even a taste of LeStrange.

How did that happen? A different place and a different time. It was not as if Hogwarts was the only place that dared have children. She had a wish like any other, to be loved and to be lovely, to be strong and to be clever. To be 'enough' but in truth there was never such a thing as 'enough.' T'was sin and vice, the failings of her nature that left an opening for the hags. Vainglorious and terrible, her sin was pride. She had forfeited all she was out of selfish ambition years ago. The things she had done to have a lovely face.

Hags were known to be crooked and hideous creatures with twisted hook-like noses and gnarled fingers, crooked and yellow teeth and a festering sores. That was how they were often described, in possession of rudimentary magic and a pervasive madness. Yet wizards failed to realize that these descriptions were written through the lens of a wizard observer. Prone to their arrogance, their biases and their narrative. There was some truth of course, hags being beings with sentience and a moral compass that they rarely employed. Hags did prefer to festoon themselves in the grotesque, they had a warped sense of beauty. That did not mean that they could not abide by the human convention of beauty if through deceptive illusion or the preening behaviors of an adolescent.

Hags were human once one must never forget.

The spiders, the cursed darkness spawned from Vladimir's blood would be given the run of the field. Last year Vladimir was robbed, drained of his blood and one would have to wonder how Marion came to be in possession of the Ravenclaw's blood. That was simple, she stole it. Vladimir was growing problematic in their relationship. For months he had been blood-letting and he was storing his blood in the crates in the owlery, crate left undisturbed as many erroneously concluded that the creates were filled with feed. The eagle was trying to find a cure for himself, for his friends that he thought were ailing. To make-up for the sins of a reckless past. To atone for sins he would never be forgiven for. While he languished and died in St. Mungos, they had what they required of him. His blood, his broken-hearted father and his fractured family of prophets and psychics.

Vladimir was a damned fool and she loathed playing the empty-headed side-kick. The dedicated friend. Boring herself day after day, toying with the allegedly clever youth and his adorably useless rival. Yet again, nobody ever asked why. Why had she concentrated her efforts on the two of them? A rich, spoiled brat and some working class bully. Nobody even cared to wonder how Vladimir came across those crones in the first place.

The truth was they did not stumble upon Hogwarts, it was quite the contrary in fact. They had been sent here, even hags were not immune to politics. Even hags had something to gain from a distressed public, from a broken philanthropist with political ambitions. Victor's involvement was more coincidental. A part of growing pains is the bullying Vladimir endured during his first year at the hands of Victor Moore. A working class youth who in truth just wanted to "stick it to them rich folk." Vladimir being the living definition of privilege, their rivalry was already going strong before she intervened and gave that final push to make Vladimir snap - to go from victim to perpetrator.

The hags made him an offer he could not refuse -- a swarm, a pestilence, a black curse that would consume his enemies. They never lied, they just told him they would give him the very thing he wanted in anger. The problem with humans is the fact that they say and do a lot of things that they do not necessarily mean, things they come to regret. Things that they try their very best to undo out of guilt and shame. Oh the sweet lengths men will go not for revenge but for salvation...

Who sent them? None other than the man who would ultimately suffer the most, Thaddeus Athanatos. The lesson to be learned here was never make a deal with a hag. They are playing their own dangerous game. The plan was noless kind on Thaddeus' part, the proximal habitation of non-wizards and wizards was intended to go poorly.The members of his family were given a single order in regards to them -- keep the hell away. That lasted but a few months at best. There were variables that the patriarch could not foresee - the meddling of the houseleves to make everyone forget their trauma. Vladimir's desperation and stubborn reliance on the fiendish creatures.

”I was never disloyal. I did as I thought you intended.”

Thomas claimed. A bullshitter until the end. She quirked an arched brow. She did not have to say it, it was like Dan Palmer claiming that he did not want a piece of Thomas' washboard flat ass or a fat kid claiming that they did not want desert.

”I brought you Ryan.” He made his first point. The then indigo-haired problem-child that somehow piqued the interest of a rival coven. She was nothing special, not really. She was just an idle spare. Like a second-born royal, useless unless the present and the heir apparent both die. She devolved over the course of years rather obviously, she often wondered what drew the hags to such a smelly, strange little girl. Not enough to actually look into it of course.

The reasoning was simple, the rival covens were on the same side had they stopped burying their head long enough to realize. A second coven was of sorts an insurance plan, if they were not driven out by the Hogwarts staff, they would destroy one another. Erin was merely their means of betraying the man that had sent them in the first place. Had anyone paid attention, they would notice the lack of women in that family tree. A delightfully devilish option some might suggest, turn their own into one of them. Not nearly as skilled or as important, the cruel methods by which they implemented this change was less for the sake of prestige and more for the cruel sake of being able to do so.

LeStrange would continue on, not that she asked him to. He would prattle on, ”I wrote the article.” Not that they asked him to do so. He was the special needs best friend her coven never asked for but still got. Fatally prideful, she had missed Petunia's point in making Thomas their playmate. The fact that she was wrong and that there was a reason some were sisters, some were Aunts and still others were grandmothers. "Joined the officials." That being the Prefects. "Not that you lasted," she reminded him. He could have devastated the school, the student body.

"And besides why would I want any of that?" The pitiful act was not working on her, but she was also not the hag Thomas had made a deal with. She had no damned idea what Auntie saw in this one. So needy. "When I look at you all I see is someone desperate to be interesting because you are so bland you would be lost in a crowd of two. You needed, no wanted an excuse."

She might have said what she did but the spiders would skitter on past LeStrange. Perhaps his mewling had merit, perhaps he had pretty eyes... Perhaps she was more fearful of Auntie than she was prideful.

”You abandoned me.”

Tears streamed down his cheeks. Abandonment issues abound. "And now it is crying," she complained. Her eyes rolled as if she was taking a look to see if she could read her own thoughts. The darkness would fan out and begin its assault on Thomas' groupies. Yes, those girls who for whatever reason felt compelled to follow the twit to the ends of the earth.

Seven arachnids and one unfortunate girl -- @Bridget Collins. Chances are she would not survive, she should not have run off ahead. It as dangerous to follow Thomas alone.

The spiders attack Bridget.
Attack: 9 (+10) Miss
Evasion: 10 (+10)
10% chance to auto-evade (Evasive Maneuvers): 89 No Effect
Attack: 8 (+10) Hit
Evasion: 2 (+10)
10% chance to auto-evade (Evasive Maneuvers): 44 No Effect
Attack: 13 (+10) Hit
Evasion: 8 (+10)
10% chance to auto-evade (Evasive Maneuvers): 23No Effect
Attack: 19 (+10) Hit
Evasion: 17 (+10)
10% chance to auto-evade (Evasive Maneuvers): 17 No Effect
Attack: 12 (+10) Hit
Evasion: 6 (+10)
10% chance to auto-evade (Evasive Maneuvers): 49 No Effect
Attack: 4 (+10) Miss
Evasion: 15 (+10)
10% chance to auto-evade (Evasive Maneuvers): 61 No Effect
Attack: 13 (+10) Hit
Evasion: 12 (+10)
10% chance to auto-evade (Evasive Maneuvers): 22 No Effect

The arachnids would swarm Bridget. She would pull her wand laurel wood and unicorn hair. "Lumos Maxima," the girl proclaimed. It was one of the few spells that she was confident could be used to repel the darkness.

Bridget cast Lumos Maxima
Wisdom: 16
Number 4 in the order

She would call out her word of power, but not before a trio of spiders attacked. Creatures of intense, tangible darkness would plunge their fungs into the girl's exposed flesh. In their wake, a searing pain and a spreading darkness. The first would miss and the later two leave their unfortunate cursed mark. None of the three would survive Bridget's infernal light. They would break away. The darkness always fled from the light but it did not die. Over the years the darkness was getting stronger, more powerful. The spiders that had latched onto the girl would start to fade but would not dissipate, they would simply unclench their jaws and back away, just beyond the penumbra of light.

The others, those that came after still attacked. Another would miss, already faded by the bright light at the tip of her wand. Yet the rest of the swarm would attempt to overwhelm her. Weakened but not destroyed, she would feel the weight as they pounced. The side of housecats, there were so many of them. Yet they would not stay, not in the light. They wold sprint away into the dark outskirts. A storm had rolled in, devastating the ball and also setting the stage for this final showdown.

There were two dramatic moments. One where Bridget would likely die. Another where Thomas was having an emotional moment. A dismissive motion with her left hand, she would mutter "let's go Thomas." It was not a request, she was ceding nothing... at least she would never admit a damned thing. "They are going to want whatever the hell you are..."

Interacting| @Thomas Lestrange | @Bridget Collins Mentioning| @Evelynn Decipio | @Marion Davenport

Outfit Reducio

Why had Santario been severely delayed to the party despite being the first to follow? Who could say, perhaps she had been tripped up by the beautiful dress she donned, or maybe it was a painful tummy ache that had stopped the girl in her tracks? The reason didn’t matter, but the delay did seem to cost her dearly. However, she was a lady of her word; regardless of whatever falling out she and Thomas were going through, she had made a promise to him. It didn’t matter if he hated her or if she hated him if that were to be the case. She promised him.

A quick observation told her two things. Bridget would die if she was not helped immediately, and Thomas was only in peril of his own stupidity. She also knew at one point Evelynn Decipio was on her heels, but she wasn’t sure if she had continued to follow. Santario pointed her wand at the spiders around Bridget “Lumos Solem!” The brightest light, being sunlight itself, that she could currently conjure should hurt them worse than the Lumos maxima. She hoped. She heard about the Ravenclaws over the summer, but she could not guarantee that the rumors of the story had been confirmed. Did the blue flames really do all that damage to the forest? She couldn’t risk Bridget’s life on that, not when she owed Bridget so much for saving her own.

Regardless of whether her spell worked, Santario remained running to Bridget’s side, but her words would be directed at Thomas. “REAPER! Do not dare abandon us again! After everything we have been through, do not choose them over us. Remember what I told you in the darkroom that day. Your life is worth more than what they can give you. Do not die on us, Reaper. Do not die on me.” A heartfelt plea with the only ounce of herself that she still had left. She couldn’t lose him not to that raggedy forest bitch.

Action| Casting Lumos Solem at the spiders around Bridget.
Stats| STA | 9 | EVA | 7 | STR | 3 | WIS | 9 | ARC | 10 | ACC | 12 |
Abilities| Healing Sage | +30% healing done with potions and spells.
Prodi Charms Learner
Impartial | Immune to Lovely Creature & Veela Alluring

OPEN TO INTERACTION

───Interactions─── Reducio [font=century gothic]@Bridget Collins @Santario Martin[/font]

OUTFIT Reducio Inspired by Mari Lwyd Tattered Lace Dress White Velvet Cloak Horse Skull Mask Up-do Hairstyle Leather Satchel

────Mentions──── Reducio [font=century gothic]@Thomas Lestrange @Marion Davenport[/font]

Feet hammered dully against the ground, gown flagging out behind her as Evelynn took her hasty leave of the ball, tugging at her hood until it fell to her shoulders. Her mask had long-since been discarded to the ground, its bulk and vision impairment an easy sell for removal. Screams, shouts of spells and flashed of lights continued in their back and forth rallies behind her, but she couldn't pay them any mind. To the fore, to the back... danger lurked to every side, some more obvious than others. On this day, however, her loyalty had been cast with specific individuals and she couldn't leave them now. Not when they were rushing headlong into what could only be a trap. Although, could it really be a trap when the doom was only too apparent, the folly of their course as obvious as... the splitting of the forest ahead of them...

Eyes widened. Always one to give the Forest the respect it was due, a wide berth provided whenever possible, the sight of those trees standing to the side like sentinels giving way to a royal procession, a shiver of dread trickled up the length of Evelynn's spine. Heat had risen with the chase, colouring her cheeks and dilating her veins, but the chill had descended upon her rose the hairs along her arms nonetheless. For a brief moment, she spotted Davenport at its edge pause, beckoning them forward. And Lestrange followed

No..

How could he be so daft. How could they all pursue so blindly. Three professors had faced a hag in these woods—these same woods—and had managed to hold onto their lives, but had not emerged the victors. The whole of Ravenclaw house had met with a similar difficulty. And here they were.. four inexperienced students.. harckening after the siren's call with some sort of misguided tie to keep each other's backs. And yet, her own steps continued forward, her body conveniently ignoring the plea for caution and accusation of idiocy spouted by its intellectual counterpart.

God help us...

First Lestrange... then Martin... then Collins.... One by one, her peers disappeared into the unwelcoming hallway that ushered them ever deeper into the woods. For a while, Evelynn would lose sight of them, her pursuit slowed by the tangling of her skirt about her legs. A guttural cry of frustration ripped itself through clenched teeth as she trotted to a stop. Heart quickening, she let her broom fall to the earth at her feet, hands scrabbling for her dress. Shaking, thoughts wheeling and harassing her to work faster, every second wasted another second where someone might be felled, she struggled to tie her gown in a way—through her legs and around her waist—that would give her freedom of movement.

Then she was once again back in hot pursuit, dipping to snatch up her broom and swinging her leg over it mid stride to kick off. This far from the ball, she wouldn't have to navigate decorations in her flight; nor attract the attention (hopefully) of errant eyes whose presence on investigation might put them all at an even greater risk. And thanks to the parting of the floran sea, neither would she have branches barring her way. For now, at least.

It wouldn't take her long to catch up to the rest, and no searching would be necessary. A burst of light erupted, casting the immediate area of the woods in stark relief at the foothills of a briefly illuminated and peculiar house. But never-mind the home. "Collins!" Evelynn heard herself shouting, the desperation of helplessness rearing its ugly head. She was too far out of reach. The Gryffindor could only watch in horror, speeding herself forward all the faster as she watched too many shadows descend upon her upperclassman, images of the dungeons and flocking to mind. At the light, the arachnoid shadows scattered, taking harbour at a distance, but not before the damage had been done.

"Are you alright?" Evelynn asked in earnest as she pulled up.

Collins was still standing, but for how long? A nearby shout announced Martin's presence as well, wand in hand and casting at the shadows as she strove to make her way to Collins' side. Evelynn would follow suit. She'd never fought against the spiders. The darkness. Deep within the dungeons, her own quarry had been the dolls. Flash had faced them, however. He and Riddle. Light had helped her then, and light seemed to be the default choice of these two, both excellent witches and quick on their feet. But the shadows hadn't faded. Only fled. Perhaps they'd have to cut off their retreat. But to do so would mean they'd have to break up the party and hope for a successful enclosure. An impossibility, really.

"Lumos solem," came her own incantation, echoing that of Martin's. She hadn't any experience facing these—had only a rudimentary idea of how to handle them. Until they could regroup and come up with a plan, this would have to do. Successful or not, she would make her way to hover near the other two, wand focused out towards their flanks even as she directed her inquiry to the pair. "What are we to do? We have come this far. We can't leave him to them. But how are we to vanquish these.. creatures?"

───────────────────────────

───────────────────────────

[font=century gothic]ACTION — Entering the foray astride her broom, casting the Sun-Light Charm[/font]

Stats & Abilities Reducio [font=century gothic]STA | 10 (13)‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎STR | 2 (5)‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ EVA | 12 (15) WIS | 14 (17)‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ARC | 2 (5)‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ACC | 10 (13) KEEN EYE — There is a 25% chance of automatically finding something. FEARLESS — Immunity to fear effects. IMPARTIAL — Immune to beauty-related effects.[/font]

───Health─── [font=century gothic]1000 / 1000[/font]

Items & Inventory Reducio [font=century gothic]— Silver Arrow (as Mari Lwyd) — Locksmith's Knife — Wizard's Tight — Magical Candles (10) — Lighter — Pepper Spray (1) — Empty Bottles — Dungbombs (5) [/font]

Interactions: @Evelynn Decipio and @Santario Martin
Mentions: Thomas Lestrange and Marion Davenport

Bridget was not a fool. She and her peers had found themselves in peril time and time again, and Slytherin's venture into the dungeons last year had hammered in the point lives were at stake, in case anyone hadn't already realized that, Santario's very literally resting in her hands. She understood, in theory, that the same could happen to her, had heard the distant footsteps of death in the burn of the curse and each painful breath of gas. But there remained a disconnect--teenage sense of invincibility, denial. She had never really thought she would face death, not anytime soon.

The spiders, both by her knowledge of them and her fear, had been identified as a threat. Still, she underestimated them. Underestimated their speed, underestimated how completely the skittering legs and sizable inky forms caused her to freeze. This had happened before, spiders storming their Common Room. The one that had found her had dropped from levitated clothes, and maybe that was better, not having to watch their approach. A shriek tore its way from her throat. Did it have to be spiders? If she hadn't had the idea beforehand, would Lumos Maxima have come to her lips? It was a miracle she managed to cast at all; even the high speed of duelling was incomparable to this sheer panic. There was no processing, no time to think of an optimized move, just an instinctual twist away from the leading arachnid, then the horrible feeling of them crawling on her, and then everything was white and blinding.

The moments immediately following went unregistered, too jumbled and just too much all at once. She swayed and caught herself. And maybe the world was better in that moment of blur, because she blinked away bright spots and edging curtains for the pain to register and the sight of perfectly-intact spiders. That didn't make sense. The light was supposed to kill them. They had been mere inches from her wand! What was she going to do? Whenever she'd thought about the spider attack and the way she'd sort of just curled up into a ball, it seemed pretty pathetic. But now, even if it wouldn't make the the curse in her veins go away, she would happily copy her younger self. She'd felt fractions of the original pain sometimes when the weekly dose was wearing off, really just a dull ache. She could take a Flipendo with little more than a grunt. Yet this was something else, impossible to brace for and with no promise of fading on its own. Just standing was taxing. Survival instinct dictated she not curl up to die, though.

And as dire as this was, the only thing she could manage hanging onto the light that kept the spiders at bay--if it didn't kill them, would they even stay outside of its ring?--calls of Lumos Solem and two approaching figures, Santario running and Evelynn on broom, made it a little less overwhelming. She was not alone. At least for them, she had to grit her teeth, keep her light up, try not to be too much of a burden. She limped toward them to lessen the gap, to bring her light closer, as approaching her meant approaching the spiders and she would not have them bitten too if she could help it.

Her heartbeat seemed louder than anything else, but she could see Evelynn's lips moving, and the audio, though like she was hearing it underwater, pieced itself together. Was she alright? She glanced down at what she knew was there--how could she not, the curse such a memorable sensation, like her insides were on fire--but hadn't looked at yet: the swirling black, creeping its way through her veins, now far from contained to a single limb. It was dizzying, another bout of fear. That was... a lot of bites. Illowy had pulled through after eight, but they were so far from the castle, and the spiders were not gone. "Not really," she admitted, voice choked by the leaking tears. What would be the point of saying otherwise?

Santario called after Thomas, and Bridget could only hope she reached him. If he followed Marion, Bridget had lost their chance of providing backup. Please listen to her. She could not provide any further plea, though even in her best of states she likely would have left it at the words of his best friend, far too engrossed in keeping herself and her magic up. From Evelynn came talk of strategy. What to do? She was right, they couldn't just leave Thomas behind. Surviving the hags once did not mean he would again. And what of the spiders? "Light should have worked," the statement quiet, flat. Maybe it still would, maybe they just needed more or the type mattered; Solem was more natural than the blinding light of a Maxima. If not? She didn't know. Non-wand arm braced against her chest for whatever inkling of comfort it might bring, it supported the elbow of her of her wand arm, helping keep her wand held high. She tried to summon the mind of a duelling captain, of careful strategizing to best account for your strengths and weaknesses and the opposition's moves. It wasn't coming, spiders dancing threateningly just a ring of light away. Not like earlier, where decisions had come quickly; maybe too quickly, if she was here.

Action: Maintain Lumos Maxima
Stats: STA: 9 | EVA: 10 | STR: 7 | WIS: 11 | ARC: 8 | ACC: 10
Abilities: Sixth Sense | Evasive Maneuvers | Prodigal DADA Learner | Perfectionist
Outfit: Plaid-patterened dress
Inventory: Wand

Conclusion as agreed upon by participants: MJ will flee into the woods after setting a group of spiders to attack the students. The group would regather and flee after rescuing Bridget, then taking her to the hospital wing to assess and repair the damages. Just a week later, Thomas would withdraw from Hogwarts once more at his mother's request after the news reaches her. Not to return until September of 2022, fall semester.

Note: For those of you I tag, I will take silence as your full understanding. If you have any questions or notice something I forget, please let me know. Thank you

@Santario Martin | @MJ Davenport | @Bridget Collins | @Evelynn Decipio