Last Flake Standing PV pi & xai Closed

@Astra Norrick & @Xailah Alptraum

House Colours: Hufflepuff

Calming Presence in Effect; All Participants Affected

"Such a good lil boy, yes you are!" The Britalian chirruped happily as he scratched Figaro as best he could with gloved hands. With a broad smile as his breath escaped him in frigid dragon's mist, the boy cooed and blushed over his feline fellow. Figaro himself couldn't really care less, to be honest, being all bundled up in a warm cat-jacket that doubled as the harness with which Piérre walked him. If anything, he was a little bit frustrated that it restricted his movements so much... but he still found himself humoring his eccentric brother. After all, if he was happy surely he would be getting many treats and praises for his services--just like he was getting now.

"You're so haaaaaaaaaaaandsome!" Piérre giggled slightly despite a full-body shiver. It was indeed winter by now, weather that his Mediterranean blood often struggled to cope with compared to other native northerners, but he did enjoy the winter season--how crisp it was and how beautiful the little motes of ice that fell from the skies were. Indeed, his favorite pasttime was to catch such snowflakes in his gloves and then take a close-up look at each of them to see what unique pattern they carried in them before melting them gently with his warm breath and committing each one to the beyond from whence they had come. Never again would a pattern like theirs ever come to be again, very much like humans themselves when one thought about it for too long. "No kiki is as pretty as you ever and ever. Lookit, you even camouflage! What a good boy!" Sure enough, the silver and black ringlets of the silver bengal were indeed good for camouflage, competing against the abilities of snowy owls themselves. It made for better-masked message deliveries, which the boy greatly enjoyed for the work that he did during just about every school season.

He probably should have been doing schoolwork; he probably should have been studying, heck he probably should have been trying to get in contact with Maddie and Romeo about meeting up for the winter or getting a Christmas wishlist out to them... but no. Here he was wasting time and acting a fool as he usually did, and he was more than certain that such actions would get him into notable academic trouble... but really what good were academics when he knew that his future job and the places that it would take him were far away and never to fully brush hands with the wizarding world in this extent again? And then, of course, there was also the curious fact that he had been wondering to himself about what Romeo had been able to tell him about this person that he had reason to believe was potentially their father... Gitano Luca Vero... Surely there was something he could do to make his brother's life easier, right? Something way more important than finishing his Study of Ancient Runes homework, eh?

Holding Figaro close to his chest, Piérre petted him softly, humming to himself a bit as he people-watched absentmindedly for a while with searching emerald eyes. It was strange sometimes, seeing how people rushed and moved about too quickly for their own good with himself sitting still until he was ready to move or strike; sometimes he almost seemed to fade away from the sights of others if he did such a thing for long enough, just like his feline. It let him watch as a student had a snowdrift fall on them from the overhang of Hogwarts castle, observe as a gaggle of popular girls giggled among themselves and pointed at a cluster of nerdier Ravenclaws sharing notes or practicing spells outside of class. The smell of pastries floated through the air, probably a homemade gift that someone had had delivered to them from an owl that morning.

The boy drew the fur-lined hood of his coat up to cover his slightly pointed ears, blowing in his hands and shivering one more time as he blinked owlishly. A contented smile. Yeah... this was pretty nice.

WHA-POW!

With a sudden recoil, Piérre's head snapped backwards for a moment as a hard blow struck him right in the face. "Pfflphpplll! Ack!" There came from him a sharp yelp as he dropped his cat, shaking his head with big green eyes, sputtering, and rapid glancing about to figure out what was going on. Well, obviously he knew what had happened--he had gotten nailed right in the face with a snowball--but he didn't know from whom the projectile had come from or why it had come his way. Wiping his face to rid himself of the last icy stuffs that had clung to his eyelashes, Piérre sputtered and spat one more time before grinning and slowly getting to his feet. Oh it was on. It was so on.

Another snowball went flying through the air, and keen green eyes tracked the movement back to the point of origin, a young girl who must have only been a firstie or a second year. Cracking his neck as his eyes gleamed with intent, he swooped quietly to his knees and collected snow in both hands, compacting the ball tighter and tighter so that all the frost stuck together into an easily-throwable item: the more baseball-like the better. Sniffing as he felt his face blushing red from the cold and the smackage he had just gotten from the snowball he had taken directly to his facial region, Piérre stayed low and then scurried towards the fountain, taking cover behind the ledge as he got the girl in his sights. Waiting for a few moments for an opening to develop, he lightly nudged a Slytherin with a small whisper of request. "Please shift like 3 inches to your left, perdonami forgive me?"

When the opening came, so did the pinpoint throw. The boy had always been in possession of startling accuracy [d20(14) + 16 = 30], as many of his duels in the past had proven to even the eldest among them, and now it seemed that there would be no exception. Between natural accuracy and perhaps the element of surprise, the girl would be nailed right back [d20(16) + 5 = 21] with the firmly compacted snowball of vengeance. The puck felt his smile widen to the point of causing his cheeks to ache, waiting to observe her reaction before ducking behind the safety of the fountain's ledge. Well, now that the game was on... surely he had to begin amassing his arsenal, didn't he?

He started to make more snowballs, just as compact as the first. They needed to be just as high in quality as they were in quantity... and he happened to have a lot of practice with making these suckers...

Action: Yeeting a Snowball at Astra

@Astra Norrick and @Piérre Marchonné

Snow was a magical element; flawless at a glance, yet imperfect upon closer inspection of it's purest crystalline form. Its ability to transform a landscape- cloaking it in flawless white- was something to marvel. Its true beauty, however, laid in what could hardly be seen by the naked eye: the little structures of ice that fell and piled atop the world, shaping it into the ghostly version of winter people anticipated most. Snowy days like today were best reserved for snowflake spotting. Xailah could often be found catching them on her clothes (the darkest she owned, for the snowflakes showed up the best on those) and studying the fractals and their fleeting shapes. If the day was an exceptionally cold one, sometimes the captured crystals could be preserved using a slide of thin glass and some clear glue; granted, the method only maintained their ghostly imprints. Snowflakes were not meant to be kept forever; such is the nature of most beautiful things.

Schrödinger was far less enthralled with the concept of snow. It was too cold on his paws, and it made his fur soggy if he stood in it for too long. Still, he trekked wherever his lady wished, even on snow days. Fortunately, his mistress paid mind to his comfort, often opting to carry him around and dressing him warmly during the chilly winter months- although, he could never decide which was worse: the cold, or the embarrassing sweaters she put him in.

If he had to pick his battles, he supposed the woolies weren't the absolute worst thing to face in winter. They were better than wet fur, that was for certain.

They were out today- cat and keeper- on another one of their wintertide rendezvous. Not only was the courtyard a great place for people-watching, but it also provided a superb space to engage in wintery activities. While many students could be found romping about the small snow-laden hills surrounding the school grounds, a handful opted to appreciate the gentle serenity the courtyard offered.

Alas, peace could only last so long around Hogwarts. If it wasn't a fire or the toll of Death's bell, then it was a student creating a ruckus.

Xailah was only faintly aware of the giggling nearby. The first crunch of snow- a splatter of something soft hitting a denser object- was dismissed in sacrifice for concentration. Schrödinger sat atop his lady's shoulders, watching her maneuver a flake of snow onto a glass slide with expert precision. The scent of two other felines in the vicinity would turn his attention away- just in time for him to spot a projectile heading in the direction of him and his lady. He'd slide from her shoulder and into the snow below with a dense plop!, making Xailah drop her glass lens at the jolt from his sudden departure. "Well excuse you." Shooting the feline a narrow look, she'd stoop with a sigh- narrowly avoiding a ball of slush to the face. "I was in the middle of someth-"

She wouldn't see it, but she would hear the dissipating crunch hit the wall directly behind her. She'd jump slightly at the noise, and looking over her shoulder she'd find the remnants of a failed assault. The glass was recovered quickly and stored into a coat pocket, as she turned her gaze onto the scattering of students in the courtyard, quietly seeking her attacker. No one looked to be actively engaged with the wintery world around them, save for a certain Piérre Marchonné, who was wielding a tightly packed ball of snow. Was he the culprit? It was likely.

In any case, he had already moved onto a new victim: a fiery-haired child, who was also suspiciously covered in snow. Perhaps the snowball from earlier had been a stray? Well, it didn't matter now, because Xailah was already packing a bundle of snow with Piérre's name on it between her gloves. She'd let the sphere fly once she felt it was dense enough. "Try hitting someone your own size, Marchonné!"

Reducio

Xailah's ACC: [d20: 3] + 16 = 19
Piérre's EVA: [d20: 19] + 18 = 37
Calming Presence: [d10: 7]= No auot-hit
37 > 19 --> miss

The molded snow would not meet it's target, instead flying a good ways past his head. So it begins: a battle of ice. May the best snowslinger win.

Throwing a snowball at Piérre. Schrödinger is watching the other cats.

date : dec 8, 2023 time : afternoon a fun little diversion with @Piérre Marchonné and @Xailah Alptraum

astra : #136323 thoughts : italics others : #theirhex

Success! A stand-off now started, three corners of the courtyard amassing an arsenal. Astra sputtered as snow exploded on her chest and into her face, a gift from the Phantom it seemed.

Hermes looked to his companion with a curious tilt of the head. His wide golden eyes had spotted the other two felines, noticeably intrigued, and was that a bit of excitement?

Astra, on the other hand, was occupied with stocking her munitions. The pile climbed with every small, tightly packed missile. Her murky blue eyes flitted between both elder students as if calculating: the girl thought Marchonné was to blame for it all while Marchonné certainly knew Astra had sent both first shots. It would be better to gun for him then, and he was behind the fountain-

Hermes sniffed disdainfully at the lack of attention and wandered off towards the other golden-eyed member and her fluffy friend.

Astra picked up two new snowballs and scuttled towards the fountain, beetle-like. Pausing for a moment in sanctuary before shuffling to Piérre, she chucked the two missiles at him, rapid-fire, and scampered back to pillared refuge.

Reducio

ASA ACC: [d20 : 13] + 7 = 20
PI EVA: [d20 : 16] + 18 = 34
Miss

ASA ACC: [d20 : 17] + 7 = 24
PI EVA: [d20 : 2] + 18 = 20
Hit

"Ahaha!" A triumphant laugh would escape her if the Phantom gave any indication he'd been hit. "Do listen to the lion, Marchonné. She knows what she's about!"

Meanwhile, Hermes had meandered through the fray to his destination. He purred a greeting at human and plopped down and sat beside his fellow feline.

ooc : n/a

asa's inventory Δ an ever-changing number of snowballs Δ an astonishing recklessness Δ vastly inferior stats hermes' inventory Δ curiosity Δ survival insincts Δ general cuteness

@Astra Norrick & @Xailah Alptraum

House Colours: Hufflepuff

Calming Presence in Effect; All Participants Affected

On the recoil, Piérre hear the soft puff of snow behind him, having slung itself just skimming him, and his green eyes found themselves attracted to the gothic lion prefect Xailah--attracted by the sound of his last name. A brow arched, and then shot upwards in further shock as it was insinuated that he was the one that had started this whole thing. "What?! Nonsense!" Another ball of snow puffed on his fountain cover as he stuck his head over it to speak. Pulling back for a second before resuming his stance. "You think I'd start this bitter war?! APFFLP--!" A snowball right to the face again muted him, causing him to tuck back down again and wipe snow away from his eyes and face as it began to bite his skin with chill.

"Run! Flee from the fray while you still can! AAAAAA I'VE BEEN HIT!" He overexaggerated his 'injuries' like it were some corny war movie. "I'm DYYYYING!" More snowballs were quickly made in the interim--he only had very little time to act. By now curled up on the snow and rolling around a bit, Figaro only stared at Piérre and purred heavily, well acquainted with his antics. His paws would playfully bat at the newcoming grey cat [Hermes] with a crackling meow, glancing sidelong at the other thick dark grey cat [Schrödinger] as if to query his opinion on the matter of the humans and this new cat.

Meanwhile the human was still trying to figure out what to do with his circumstance. He could probably use magic if he wanted to... but what would he do with it? Where was his opening?

He'd need a mutual distraction, and for that he'd probably need to hit both of them.

Well this wasn't much fair, was it! He hadn't even thrown the first ball and now look how people ganged up on him! Well alas, him against the world again, it would seem, but wasn't that just the best kind of match? Especially when everyone rooted against him and then he ended up being the one on top? "You're one to talk: methinks you're just a tricksy snek!" Piérre stuck his head up for just a second before diving for cover again. Scuttling along on three limbs as he abandoned his former cover in pursuit of another one that had mutual defenses against both angles of the elder prefect and the younger kid, he tried to find a better spot, his snowballs hugged to his with his remaining arm.

"Eat yellow snow!" He jibed as another ball was hurled at the younger girl that had--most likely--started the conflict first. It was a little more wobbly in flight [Accuracy: d20[5] + 16 = 21] than the first one was, but this one was intended to be more of a distraction anyways. "I hear it's good for the fangs!"

He chose a pillar on one side of the courtyard facing the outer wall, one that gave him ample view of the entire area if he stuck his head around either cover. Pressing his back to it, he selected another snowball and tried to line up his shots for the prefect. Just a good throw, even a small throw--just long enough to fumble for his wand was all he needed. "Oh that it wouldn't have to come to this! To be a renegade of all sides!" Came the dramatic quotations from him as he quickly spun out from his hiding place and unloaded an oblong snowball for Xailah. "THINK! WE COULD HAVE BEEN ALLIES!" As the powderball came for her with the might of a boy that was well-trained in the art of the card throw and stone-skipping, a beautiful extension of his ability to tap into his 'muggle' heritage [Accuracy: d20[18] + 16 = 34] and cause chaos in but one of many ways that he knew. "OH THE TRAGEDY OF WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN!"

Figaro's ears twitched slightly, and a deep purr rumbled in his throat at seeing his human so happy and carefree. Piérre himself ducked for cover, now more than ever certain that retribution would most certainly be coming swiftly for him for his impetuousness.

Action: Yeeting a Snowball at Astra