4 May 2018, 16:28
Huff... Puff... Wheeze...
Purpose: This thread is intended to serve as the conclusion for the Campout Adventure on the grounds. This takes place a few hours after we arrived in the Hospital Wing so everyone is conscious.
History: The Hufflepuff students were supposed to enjoy a fun camp out with their favorite Professor (me). The intention was smores and scary stories, however fate had other plans. Muggle devices were brought on the camp out and once they were used something terrible happened, the shadows came to life and they started to attack the students. Chaos ensued but the students were able to work out that light can always keep darkness at bay. They had to work together to survive and some of them fell in the process. A swarm of spiders were also discovered, agitated they attacked as well.
Ambitious, one student went too far and tried to cast a spell above his station. The Incendio spell went terribly wrong and back-fired. The forest was set on fire and some of the fallen students were imperiled. The shadows, however, were destroyed as were the spiders. The students did not hesitate to jump into the fire and seek their fallen friends. They were able to drag their friends out but they almost lost their own lives in the process.
The students have been dragged to safety and eventually the infirmary.
Roleplay: White on white, it just seemed cleaner. The infirmary was a large open space that housed several beds like a ward that rested in a neat long row against a long windowed wall. A small nightstand marked the space between each bed and there was not a bed left unfilled, some of the smaller students shared a bed.
The white was not white any longer, black footprints marked the comings and the goings of the students. The white linens now streaked with black soot and handprints marked every place the children and one Professor had touched. There was also some blood, not much considering the losses the children had suffered, after all they did not have much left.
The medic was less a doctor and more a healer. Equipped for cuts and burns suffered during failed magical experimentation, able to mix potent potions to alleviate what ails a student and of course treat minor illness' and jinxes but this was out of his hands. Yes, the medic here was utterly unprepared for the condition of the students that were rushed into the ward a little after ten in the evening.
The students would file in, injured and exhausted. Many of them carried an unconscious peer. Some were crying, others coughing, yet others held a thousand foot stare. Isaak Mikhailovich, the medic on this day, did not have time to console them. Some of the students were hanging onto life by the barest of threads.
However, their injuries were beyond his skill. It was not that he was a poor magician, nor was it because he was unwilling to try. Their injuries were many, great, dire and yes... excessive. Yet he was able to stabilize them, a miracle really. Professor Lear was shouting something, the wake students might have been able to overhear. It was unlike the often gentle Professor to be so riled but the Head of House appeared insistent. They would hear key words: floo powder... London. Those curious enough to listen would be fully aware of what the Professor was seeking, he wanted the students sent away to a muggle hospital for treatment.
Isaak Mikhailovich would have none of that. He had only serviced the Hospital Ward in Hogwarts intermittently but he was an experienced healer. He had the confidence necessary to make such a decision. Well, that and he did not care for muggles. Less he hated them and more he did not understand them, science and magic were on two different ends of a great spectrum and due to their divergent natures they should never meet in his mind. The condition of these students after the introduction of a muggle device only furthered his sentiments regarding Muggles.
The debate was still ongoing in fact, but the argument would have made it to the student's bedside. "You cannot handle this Isaak," Solomon insisted.
"You have no idea what I can handle," Isaak replied in a deeply accented voice. The tall blonde man was rather handsome when not covered in blood and soot in all likelihood. He had already recovered Serena, Sarafina and Cynthia back to consciousness, Orion was badly burned but his magic was capable enough.
"These kids might die, they cannot defend themselves," Solomon insisted through gritted teeth.
"These kids will just be spending some quality time in the infirmary," the Medic looked around. Most of the students were pretty beat-up but they would be able to be treated within a few hours. "These few," he gestured towards the recently revived Serena, Sarafina, Cynthia and Orion "might need a few day... but the rest of them just need a few minute of my time. They should be able to head back to their dorm in a few hour," Isaak's English was not quite perfect and at times hard to understand but his message was clear.
"These injuries are too complicated," Solomon insisted. He was not a Medic but he knew that the human body was a lot more complicated than mending a shattered mirror, uniting two broken halves of a favorite toy or even removing the damages done. The human body is a living, ever-changing thing. It was what made Transfiguration such an interesting school of magic, the ability to make the inert living. The ability to modify and alter at will for those that possessed the proper skill anything or anyone they desired into something different, something better, something that he wanted them to be.
Healing was different of course. Healing did not change a person, no it merely mended them, removed what did not belong but somehow understood what actually did. "They need Muggle Medicine... Antiobiotics. Bandages." His voice almost pleading.
"No, they need time and my hand," Isaak insisted. That was the end of the discussion.
"Then we are not leaving," Solomon warned the medic. Honestly, Solomon likely did not have to make the assertion, it was rather obvious. The students cared deeply for their classmates. They were friends. They were roomates, classmates, rivals and peers. "It is not the Hufflepuff way," he was not going to make them leave either. It was easier to watch them in here anyways, they were in a shared space.
The students were rather broken up. It was hard to see the physical state some of the students were in. This would have been the first time that some of them had seen this much blood, been those close to death, had nearly lost so much. Some of the students were also wrestling with a sense of guilt. Was it their fault that this happened? Could they have done more? Did they truly try their hardest? They had to contend with the fact that they were not wizards, not yet at the very least. Casting such a simple spell was Lumos had proved to be a difficult feat. They would need to get better, get stronger... if not for themselves then for their friends.
Solomon would take the foot of an occupied bed and sit on the edge. The mattress would compress but less than one would have anticipated considering his alleged size. He would let out a huff and a wheeze. He was tired. The lines of his face seemed deeper, his expression somber. Was he troubled by what had gone wrong? Perhaps. He should have felt relieved that nobody died. He was, but something else was weighing heavily on his mind as he sat there and stared at all of those filled beds.
He felt nauseated thinking about it. He was not used to feeling incapable. Feeling as if a situation was out of his control. The others had already left, there were not many Hufflepuffs left in Hogwarts, he had already seen to that. But he could not help this year escape. His soot-covered hands gripped the blanket at the foot of the bed, staining it with his calloused hands.
He had to stay strong. Put on a secure expression. He had to lie a little longer.
"A camp out still!" He declared, a fit of coughs would soon follow that he tried to veil behind a hearty laugh. "The marshmallows a victim... of victim of the fire that we shall mourn." he would try to lighten the mood with humor. "But Hufflepuffs make the best out of the hands they are given..." he claimed. There was no such mantra for their House but what was another white lie.
He would summon a House Elf, her name was Doone. He would instruct the elf to make stove top smores. They were just as good he claimed. In this he was not wrong.
This was them making the best of things it would seem.
The Medic would of course try to scoot some of the healthier students out. Solomon, and perhaps the student were not going to be having any of that. "No-no-no, loyal until the end," or something similar being said by Solomon and some of the luckier students. Solomon would announce that he would give himself as tribute if someone needed a sponge bath and there was a pretty lady nurse available. He knew there was not but there was no harm in hoping or trying.
Eventually a heaping plate of smores would be delivered on a plate, steam still coming from them as they filled the room with their sweet scent. The contents would not last long, the plate would empty within minutes. Solomon would snatch one just before they ran out but it was not for him, it was for the resident in the bed. He had chosen one of the students that was knocked unconscious. He did not want to leave them alone. He was not going to leave them alone. Call it guilt. Call it worry. He would pass the smore to Cynthia. "For you," he would announce as he relinquished the confectionery treat. "You'll be okay," he promised. He was lying, he honestly had no clue. They used to say it was wrong to lie but over time he realized that was also a lie. Lies can bring comfort to those feeling sorrow. That not all lies do harm. That sometimes a lie can be an expression of love. Did he love his Huffles? Yes, of course. That was why he lied. "You were very brave."
The house elf would return several times before everyone had a chocolate covered hand from their smores. The Hospital Wing was going to be sooty and sticky after today.
Drinks would follow. Nothing healthy of course. Various bottles of fizzy pop.
The chatter would die down but emotions were still running strong. The students were scared, who wouldn't be after everything that they went through. It would be a strange sensation, being a survivor or a victim is far from exhilarating. You feel numb and hollow. Time seems to move wrong, fast and then slow. Your brain a fog but through the obscurity it would be screaming at you -- you did something wrong! You should have done more! This was far from a happy occasion sadly and minds needed to be taken off of what had just happened.
"Does anyone know any scary stories?"
Instructions: You have walked or you have been carried here if you were a part of the camp out. By now other Hufflepuff students (as well as teachers, prefects and other students) are aware of the tragedy outside. They might come and visit as well. Wrestle with your injuries, your in character emotions, sentiments and resentments. Most of you should have a few regrets. You have been given some soda and a smore. You have been given cleanish bed but it is likely covered in soot if you were in the fire. Your injuries have been treated (feel free to godmod Isaak as long as it makes sense) but you are not entirely better -- you still hurt, suffer from smoke inhalation and those wounds will take awhile to seal up. At least you are conscious and no longer dying if you were close to death. To take everyone's minds off of what just happened Solomon asked if anyone knew a scary story. I will give mine on my next post but feel free to offer a scary story being said by your character.
History: The Hufflepuff students were supposed to enjoy a fun camp out with their favorite Professor (me). The intention was smores and scary stories, however fate had other plans. Muggle devices were brought on the camp out and once they were used something terrible happened, the shadows came to life and they started to attack the students. Chaos ensued but the students were able to work out that light can always keep darkness at bay. They had to work together to survive and some of them fell in the process. A swarm of spiders were also discovered, agitated they attacked as well.
Ambitious, one student went too far and tried to cast a spell above his station. The Incendio spell went terribly wrong and back-fired. The forest was set on fire and some of the fallen students were imperiled. The shadows, however, were destroyed as were the spiders. The students did not hesitate to jump into the fire and seek their fallen friends. They were able to drag their friends out but they almost lost their own lives in the process.
The students have been dragged to safety and eventually the infirmary.
Roleplay: White on white, it just seemed cleaner. The infirmary was a large open space that housed several beds like a ward that rested in a neat long row against a long windowed wall. A small nightstand marked the space between each bed and there was not a bed left unfilled, some of the smaller students shared a bed.
The white was not white any longer, black footprints marked the comings and the goings of the students. The white linens now streaked with black soot and handprints marked every place the children and one Professor had touched. There was also some blood, not much considering the losses the children had suffered, after all they did not have much left.
The medic was less a doctor and more a healer. Equipped for cuts and burns suffered during failed magical experimentation, able to mix potent potions to alleviate what ails a student and of course treat minor illness' and jinxes but this was out of his hands. Yes, the medic here was utterly unprepared for the condition of the students that were rushed into the ward a little after ten in the evening.
The students would file in, injured and exhausted. Many of them carried an unconscious peer. Some were crying, others coughing, yet others held a thousand foot stare. Isaak Mikhailovich, the medic on this day, did not have time to console them. Some of the students were hanging onto life by the barest of threads.
However, their injuries were beyond his skill. It was not that he was a poor magician, nor was it because he was unwilling to try. Their injuries were many, great, dire and yes... excessive. Yet he was able to stabilize them, a miracle really. Professor Lear was shouting something, the wake students might have been able to overhear. It was unlike the often gentle Professor to be so riled but the Head of House appeared insistent. They would hear key words: floo powder... London. Those curious enough to listen would be fully aware of what the Professor was seeking, he wanted the students sent away to a muggle hospital for treatment.
Isaak Mikhailovich would have none of that. He had only serviced the Hospital Ward in Hogwarts intermittently but he was an experienced healer. He had the confidence necessary to make such a decision. Well, that and he did not care for muggles. Less he hated them and more he did not understand them, science and magic were on two different ends of a great spectrum and due to their divergent natures they should never meet in his mind. The condition of these students after the introduction of a muggle device only furthered his sentiments regarding Muggles.
The debate was still ongoing in fact, but the argument would have made it to the student's bedside. "You cannot handle this Isaak," Solomon insisted.
"You have no idea what I can handle," Isaak replied in a deeply accented voice. The tall blonde man was rather handsome when not covered in blood and soot in all likelihood. He had already recovered Serena, Sarafina and Cynthia back to consciousness, Orion was badly burned but his magic was capable enough.
"These kids might die, they cannot defend themselves," Solomon insisted through gritted teeth.
"These kids will just be spending some quality time in the infirmary," the Medic looked around. Most of the students were pretty beat-up but they would be able to be treated within a few hours. "These few," he gestured towards the recently revived Serena, Sarafina, Cynthia and Orion "might need a few day... but the rest of them just need a few minute of my time. They should be able to head back to their dorm in a few hour," Isaak's English was not quite perfect and at times hard to understand but his message was clear.
"These injuries are too complicated," Solomon insisted. He was not a Medic but he knew that the human body was a lot more complicated than mending a shattered mirror, uniting two broken halves of a favorite toy or even removing the damages done. The human body is a living, ever-changing thing. It was what made Transfiguration such an interesting school of magic, the ability to make the inert living. The ability to modify and alter at will for those that possessed the proper skill anything or anyone they desired into something different, something better, something that he wanted them to be.
Healing was different of course. Healing did not change a person, no it merely mended them, removed what did not belong but somehow understood what actually did. "They need Muggle Medicine... Antiobiotics. Bandages." His voice almost pleading.
"No, they need time and my hand," Isaak insisted. That was the end of the discussion.
"Then we are not leaving," Solomon warned the medic. Honestly, Solomon likely did not have to make the assertion, it was rather obvious. The students cared deeply for their classmates. They were friends. They were roomates, classmates, rivals and peers. "It is not the Hufflepuff way," he was not going to make them leave either. It was easier to watch them in here anyways, they were in a shared space.
The students were rather broken up. It was hard to see the physical state some of the students were in. This would have been the first time that some of them had seen this much blood, been those close to death, had nearly lost so much. Some of the students were also wrestling with a sense of guilt. Was it their fault that this happened? Could they have done more? Did they truly try their hardest? They had to contend with the fact that they were not wizards, not yet at the very least. Casting such a simple spell was Lumos had proved to be a difficult feat. They would need to get better, get stronger... if not for themselves then for their friends.
Solomon would take the foot of an occupied bed and sit on the edge. The mattress would compress but less than one would have anticipated considering his alleged size. He would let out a huff and a wheeze. He was tired. The lines of his face seemed deeper, his expression somber. Was he troubled by what had gone wrong? Perhaps. He should have felt relieved that nobody died. He was, but something else was weighing heavily on his mind as he sat there and stared at all of those filled beds.
He felt nauseated thinking about it. He was not used to feeling incapable. Feeling as if a situation was out of his control. The others had already left, there were not many Hufflepuffs left in Hogwarts, he had already seen to that. But he could not help this year escape. His soot-covered hands gripped the blanket at the foot of the bed, staining it with his calloused hands.
He had to stay strong. Put on a secure expression. He had to lie a little longer.
"A camp out still!" He declared, a fit of coughs would soon follow that he tried to veil behind a hearty laugh. "The marshmallows a victim... of victim of the fire that we shall mourn." he would try to lighten the mood with humor. "But Hufflepuffs make the best out of the hands they are given..." he claimed. There was no such mantra for their House but what was another white lie.
He would summon a House Elf, her name was Doone. He would instruct the elf to make stove top smores. They were just as good he claimed. In this he was not wrong.
This was them making the best of things it would seem.
The Medic would of course try to scoot some of the healthier students out. Solomon, and perhaps the student were not going to be having any of that. "No-no-no, loyal until the end," or something similar being said by Solomon and some of the luckier students. Solomon would announce that he would give himself as tribute if someone needed a sponge bath and there was a pretty lady nurse available. He knew there was not but there was no harm in hoping or trying.
Eventually a heaping plate of smores would be delivered on a plate, steam still coming from them as they filled the room with their sweet scent. The contents would not last long, the plate would empty within minutes. Solomon would snatch one just before they ran out but it was not for him, it was for the resident in the bed. He had chosen one of the students that was knocked unconscious. He did not want to leave them alone. He was not going to leave them alone. Call it guilt. Call it worry. He would pass the smore to Cynthia. "For you," he would announce as he relinquished the confectionery treat. "You'll be okay," he promised. He was lying, he honestly had no clue. They used to say it was wrong to lie but over time he realized that was also a lie. Lies can bring comfort to those feeling sorrow. That not all lies do harm. That sometimes a lie can be an expression of love. Did he love his Huffles? Yes, of course. That was why he lied. "You were very brave."
The house elf would return several times before everyone had a chocolate covered hand from their smores. The Hospital Wing was going to be sooty and sticky after today.
Drinks would follow. Nothing healthy of course. Various bottles of fizzy pop.
The chatter would die down but emotions were still running strong. The students were scared, who wouldn't be after everything that they went through. It would be a strange sensation, being a survivor or a victim is far from exhilarating. You feel numb and hollow. Time seems to move wrong, fast and then slow. Your brain a fog but through the obscurity it would be screaming at you -- you did something wrong! You should have done more! This was far from a happy occasion sadly and minds needed to be taken off of what had just happened.
"Does anyone know any scary stories?"
Instructions: You have walked or you have been carried here if you were a part of the camp out. By now other Hufflepuff students (as well as teachers, prefects and other students) are aware of the tragedy outside. They might come and visit as well. Wrestle with your injuries, your in character emotions, sentiments and resentments. Most of you should have a few regrets. You have been given some soda and a smore. You have been given cleanish bed but it is likely covered in soot if you were in the fire. Your injuries have been treated (feel free to godmod Isaak as long as it makes sense) but you are not entirely better -- you still hurt, suffer from smoke inhalation and those wounds will take awhile to seal up. At least you are conscious and no longer dying if you were close to death. To take everyone's minds off of what just happened Solomon asked if anyone knew a scary story. I will give mine on my next post but feel free to offer a scary story being said by your character.
There is something about ambition, how it not only propels you but also defines you.
4 May 2018, 22:57
Huff... Puff... Wheeze...
Sarafina opened her eyes, gasping. They were in a room...inside the castle. The hospital wing! Of course! She felt a lot better. She overhead a couple of words in an argument between Mr. Lear and who she assumed was the healer. She was curious and listened in to their debate. She then turned as food and drinks were brought to them. She realized her friends were conscious too. Then she saw that most of them were covered in ash...including herself. What had happened? The last thing she remembered was being bit by a spider and then...nothing. She had passed out. She and Orion looked to have been hit the worst by the fire. Surely he didn’t start it.... maybe she would bring it up. Nah, she decided against it. When Mr. Lear asked if anyone knew any scary stories, she came out of her thoughts. She loved scary stories, especially telling them.
“I do,” she volunteered, hoping the others would quiet down and listen. She had never been a loud speaker, so she needed almost complete silence. She was a quiet and reserved person usually, but the things they’d been through the past day had changed that. Past day? How long was she out? Surely not that long. She glanced around. Who could’ve brought her here? Maybe one of the students had carried her... Only a few has not been unconscious with her. James? Maybe James. She turned back to the campers. She would tell a story one of her friends told her a while back, before everything happened.
“It’s called the Molly story,” she started, putting on a narrator-kind-of-tone. Dark and creepy, kind of flat at the beginning. She began the story. “Once there was a rich spoiled girl. Her name was Molly...” she looked around, a slight, creepy smile coming to her face. Her eyes narrowed slightly, evilly, adding to the effect of the story. “One day she begged her parents for a new doll. Her parents found it pointless, for she already had hundreds it seemed. Dolls everywhere, staring at whoever dared walk into her room. But then again, they thought, she was at that stage in life...” it seemed to get a bit quieter. She continued on. “They gave in to her whining, for they knew how terrible and loud her tantrums were. She was nine, but still acted like a five year old. They didn’t have the guts to tell her to be more mature. So, at last, they took her to a small store that they knew carried dolls. Upon arriving, she strode in and immediately walked over to the doll stand. He glanced around, very quickly making up her mind. There was a beautiful doll. She picked it up and brought it to the cashier saying, “I must have this doll.” The cashier shook his head. He said it was bad luck. She should not get it for bad things happened to everyone who got it. They never came back and weeks later the doll reappeared at the store. Well, Molly would have none of this. She began to cry, and her parents persisted so much that he let them get the doll. Molly ran home, skipping with joy. That night she heard singing.” She paused, adding suspense. Her story telling tone took over, causing feelings of suspense or fear over those who listened to her stories. That’s why her friends had deemed her queen storytelling. She started again, changing her voice to a high, little girlish-sounding melodic tone. “Molly...Molly...I’m on the first floor...’ Molly, sleeping on the top of a 5 story high mansion, found this disturbing. And who was that? It certainly wasn’t her family... The doll...it must be. She got up, but froze, upon hearing a cabinet slide open. The knife cabinet. It started again. “Molly...Molly...I’m in the kitchen...’ the kitchen was on the second floor...her parents were on the third... she raced down the staircase shouting, ‘Ma? Pa?’ She got no answer, and a minute later, screams filled the hallway, quickly silenced. ‘Molly....Molly...I’m on the third floor...’ she stopped at the bottom of the staircase, seeing her parents limp bodies. The doll was coming towards her. She raced upstairs and hid in her closet. Her breathing case quick and short; her heart hammered in her ears. She heard the singing again, marking its position on the fourth floor... then it stopped. She sat there, hearing only her heartbeat for several minutes. Then two red eyes appeared in front of her...” she stopped, writing to see people’s reactions. She smiled, finishing it up. “The next day, the cashier at the store walked over to the row of dolls. The doll was back again, but yet again something had changed. He recognized where he had seen that face before and shook his head. He had tried to warn Molly. A little girl came into the shop and ran over to the rack. ‘Mommy, I need this one....” she finished the story with a content gleam in her eyes. She loved story telling. It had helped distract her, and hopefully all the other campers, from the pain of their injuries.
“I do,” she volunteered, hoping the others would quiet down and listen. She had never been a loud speaker, so she needed almost complete silence. She was a quiet and reserved person usually, but the things they’d been through the past day had changed that. Past day? How long was she out? Surely not that long. She glanced around. Who could’ve brought her here? Maybe one of the students had carried her... Only a few has not been unconscious with her. James? Maybe James. She turned back to the campers. She would tell a story one of her friends told her a while back, before everything happened.
“It’s called the Molly story,” she started, putting on a narrator-kind-of-tone. Dark and creepy, kind of flat at the beginning. She began the story. “Once there was a rich spoiled girl. Her name was Molly...” she looked around, a slight, creepy smile coming to her face. Her eyes narrowed slightly, evilly, adding to the effect of the story. “One day she begged her parents for a new doll. Her parents found it pointless, for she already had hundreds it seemed. Dolls everywhere, staring at whoever dared walk into her room. But then again, they thought, she was at that stage in life...” it seemed to get a bit quieter. She continued on. “They gave in to her whining, for they knew how terrible and loud her tantrums were. She was nine, but still acted like a five year old. They didn’t have the guts to tell her to be more mature. So, at last, they took her to a small store that they knew carried dolls. Upon arriving, she strode in and immediately walked over to the doll stand. He glanced around, very quickly making up her mind. There was a beautiful doll. She picked it up and brought it to the cashier saying, “I must have this doll.” The cashier shook his head. He said it was bad luck. She should not get it for bad things happened to everyone who got it. They never came back and weeks later the doll reappeared at the store. Well, Molly would have none of this. She began to cry, and her parents persisted so much that he let them get the doll. Molly ran home, skipping with joy. That night she heard singing.” She paused, adding suspense. Her story telling tone took over, causing feelings of suspense or fear over those who listened to her stories. That’s why her friends had deemed her queen storytelling. She started again, changing her voice to a high, little girlish-sounding melodic tone. “Molly...Molly...I’m on the first floor...’ Molly, sleeping on the top of a 5 story high mansion, found this disturbing. And who was that? It certainly wasn’t her family... The doll...it must be. She got up, but froze, upon hearing a cabinet slide open. The knife cabinet. It started again. “Molly...Molly...I’m in the kitchen...’ the kitchen was on the second floor...her parents were on the third... she raced down the staircase shouting, ‘Ma? Pa?’ She got no answer, and a minute later, screams filled the hallway, quickly silenced. ‘Molly....Molly...I’m on the third floor...’ she stopped at the bottom of the staircase, seeing her parents limp bodies. The doll was coming towards her. She raced upstairs and hid in her closet. Her breathing case quick and short; her heart hammered in her ears. She heard the singing again, marking its position on the fourth floor... then it stopped. She sat there, hearing only her heartbeat for several minutes. Then two red eyes appeared in front of her...” she stopped, writing to see people’s reactions. She smiled, finishing it up. “The next day, the cashier at the store walked over to the row of dolls. The doll was back again, but yet again something had changed. He recognized where he had seen that face before and shook his head. He had tried to warn Molly. A little girl came into the shop and ran over to the rack. ‘Mommy, I need this one....” she finished the story with a content gleam in her eyes. She loved story telling. It had helped distract her, and hopefully all the other campers, from the pain of their injuries.
Fina
5 May 2018, 04:04
Huff... Puff... Wheeze...
James sat at the foot of a not-so-white hospital bed, leaned forward, staring at the ground with his elbows on his knees and his hands folded in front of him. His face was smeared and blotched with soot, making him look like a saddened scene from 101 Dalmatians. His clothes were torn and burnt, and beyond hope of restoring. Good thing he had taken clothes to the camp out that he hadn't really cared about, and was willing to let get dirty. Still, he hadn't expected for them to get this dirty.
The taste of food burnt beyond recognition was stuck in his throat, an effect of the smoke he had inhaled. His breathing was mostly back to normal, thanks to the quick, skillful healing hands of Isaak. James inhaled and exhaled slowly and steadily; he was no longer coughing and wheezing, so long as he didn't speed up his breathing or do anything more than slow solemn speech. His throat hurt when he swallowed, but thankfully, nothing more than that. James was lucky. Maybe that's all he was...
James didn't see the floor in front of him as he looked down at his feet. His eyes were clouded with the memories of the past hour. In fact, inside those memories, his eyes had often been quite clouded, but with smoke. What had happened? Why had this happened at all?
James had been getting sticks for the fire. It was dark. Well, the sticks wouldn't be needed, and the darkness wouldn't last. James had been followed by Reid, and he had informed James of a spider on his head. James had kindly and gently removed the spider, but that didn't stop the swarm of spiders devouring them from the darkness.
James had stopped to carefully set the spider on the ground. The spiders still attacked. James was bitten, and fear took control of him. He ran towards the light he saw, which was held by Orion. But where James ran, the spiders ran. So, Orion and Sarafina were overcome by all of the terrifying spiders too.
James had thought he was being brave when he ran away from the group, trying to get the spiders to follow him away from them. He didn't help the situation at all. How could he expect to? Orion did what he had to, and he set fire to the spiders. It wasn't his fault...
The spell had backfired, causing everything to go up in flames. But James had been out of the way, so he didn't get hit in the face with the fiery inferno. He tripped and fell and watched in horror. Professor Lear came out, holding another student. Cynthia was given to James for him to drag away, and he barely managed to.
Then, James had ran in blindly to try and help with the others still trapped in the fire. He emerged with a log first, and two tries later, he finally managed to come out with an almost dead Sarafina. Someone had previously called out to him to save her after she got bitten by too many spiders, but James hadn't responded quick enough.
James had gone too far to look for sticks. He had waited too long to react to what the others were telling him. James had foolishly taken compassion on a single little spider. James had run for safety, not thinking about how endangering he would be to everyone else. He had gone out of the way, letting everyone else get hurt almost killed. He had failed. Failed so badly. Nobody was actually dead, but James didn't feel worthy of attention at all. He was a selfish, foolish little boy.
Heck, the fact that he was just sitting here, thinking all about himself and pitying his own person was selfish! James blinked the angry tears out of his eyes, and inhaled sharply, sitting up and looking around.
Professor Lear, Sarafina, Orion, Serena, Cynthia, Reid, Marissa, Roma and others were all there. Professor Lear was badly burnt and smoky, especially due to his armor that he had been wearing in the fire. Sarafina was newly revived, same with Orion, Serena, and Cynthia. Sarafina was bitten all over. Orion looked like he had been stuck in a furnace forever. Serena was all bloodied up, and her hair was devastating. Cynthia seemed to be shaken up and also scorched with serious burns. Reid was looking exhausted and bloody and burnt as well. Marissa and Roma also looked dirty, and seemed to be shaken up too...
Suddenly, James came conscious of the s'mores and soda being passed around. He took a bottle, mostly to have something to hold, and passed on the chocolate and marshmallows. He didn't feel much like eating. Or doing anything, really... he was miserable. Physically, mentally and emotionally. His normal happy Hufflepuff demeanor had been dampened by fire.
He exhaled heavily, his eyes dry from tears again, but still red from them and the smoke. He regarded the bottle of soda with a look and decided to take a sip, hoping it would help him to relax or something. It hurt slightly going down, but he was okay with it. He let it hang in his fingers in between his legs, still resting his elbows on them, and resuming his previous hunched over position, gazing at the floor and his shoes.
"Does anyone know any scary stories?" Professor Lear asked. James looked up momentarily, briefly wondering how he could be so lively before inwardly nodding his head in approval of the Professor's efforts. James always strove to be like that, but he just didn't have it in him right then.
“I do...” Sarafina volunteered. “It’s called the Molly story. Once there was a rich spoiled girl. Her name was Molly..."
James also admired Sarafina's willing to be back up in happy spirits. Professor Lear and Sarafina were so much better than him, James couldn't help thinking. All of them, really. Orion had the courage to light up his wand, shouting for everyone to come to him. James was sure Orion had known some danger would be associated with that act, and he had still been brave enough to help everyone. Reid had saved Serena, and then gone back in to try and save someone else. Serena had been through so much and was still alive, so James didn't think he could even begin to compare himself to her. Cynthia had never stopped trying to help, even if it didn't quite work every time. Marissa hadn't even been involved in the disaster, but she had still arrived and helped; but James already knew Marissa was brave, so she was already amazing in his book. Same with Siege, and Ezekiel, and James didn't know who else had helped. James didn't know Roma, but he was sure she hadn't failed as bad as he did.
Yet again, the thought suddenly entered into James' head that he was being selfish, wallowing in his self-pity. He gathered up the energy to mentally kick himself, before sighing heavily again. He took another sip from the bottle and looked up again, catching the rest of Sarafina's story.
"... ‘Molly... Molly... I’m on the third floor...’ she stopped at the bottom of the staircase, seeing her parents limp bodies. The doll was coming towards her. She raced upstairs and hid in her closet. Her breathing case quick and short; her heart hammered in her ears. She heard the singing again, marking its position on the fourth floor... then it stopped. She sat there, hearing only her heartbeat for several minutes. Then two red eyes appeared in front of her...”
“The next day, the cashier at the store walked over to the row of dolls. The doll was back again, but yet again something had changed. He recognized where he had seen that face before and shook his head. He had tried to warn Molly. A little girl came into the shop and ran over to the rack. ‘Mommy, I need this one....”
From what James had heard, it was a good scary story. In fact, James would hate a life-size doll, especially one that moved, or even just stared at him. Dolls scared him, perhaps even more than spiders and fire did, even now. Dolls and needles, he just couldn't handle them.
Inevitably, James' thoughts wandered back to the events of that evening... what could have gone differently? James felt like the fact that most of them didn't do very well with their spells at all helped to make the situation worse. No matter how many times James had said it, he still hadn't been able to cast Periculum. He figured it out now that he had been saying it wrong the entire time.
Orion had cast Incendio, but it had backfired in probably the worst way possible. If this was another Muggle Dungeons and Dragons or Pathfinder role playing session, James would have assumed Orion had rolled a natural 1, which is a Critical Fail.
Many others had also tried to cast Lumos, but not many of them were successful. In fact, most of them weren't.
If only they had been better at these spells, they would have been able to do better in terms of survival... maybe...
The taste of food burnt beyond recognition was stuck in his throat, an effect of the smoke he had inhaled. His breathing was mostly back to normal, thanks to the quick, skillful healing hands of Isaak. James inhaled and exhaled slowly and steadily; he was no longer coughing and wheezing, so long as he didn't speed up his breathing or do anything more than slow solemn speech. His throat hurt when he swallowed, but thankfully, nothing more than that. James was lucky. Maybe that's all he was...
James didn't see the floor in front of him as he looked down at his feet. His eyes were clouded with the memories of the past hour. In fact, inside those memories, his eyes had often been quite clouded, but with smoke. What had happened? Why had this happened at all?
James had been getting sticks for the fire. It was dark. Well, the sticks wouldn't be needed, and the darkness wouldn't last. James had been followed by Reid, and he had informed James of a spider on his head. James had kindly and gently removed the spider, but that didn't stop the swarm of spiders devouring them from the darkness.
James had stopped to carefully set the spider on the ground. The spiders still attacked. James was bitten, and fear took control of him. He ran towards the light he saw, which was held by Orion. But where James ran, the spiders ran. So, Orion and Sarafina were overcome by all of the terrifying spiders too.
James had thought he was being brave when he ran away from the group, trying to get the spiders to follow him away from them. He didn't help the situation at all. How could he expect to? Orion did what he had to, and he set fire to the spiders. It wasn't his fault...
The spell had backfired, causing everything to go up in flames. But James had been out of the way, so he didn't get hit in the face with the fiery inferno. He tripped and fell and watched in horror. Professor Lear came out, holding another student. Cynthia was given to James for him to drag away, and he barely managed to.
Then, James had ran in blindly to try and help with the others still trapped in the fire. He emerged with a log first, and two tries later, he finally managed to come out with an almost dead Sarafina. Someone had previously called out to him to save her after she got bitten by too many spiders, but James hadn't responded quick enough.
James had gone too far to look for sticks. He had waited too long to react to what the others were telling him. James had foolishly taken compassion on a single little spider. James had run for safety, not thinking about how endangering he would be to everyone else. He had gone out of the way, letting everyone else get hurt almost killed. He had failed. Failed so badly. Nobody was actually dead, but James didn't feel worthy of attention at all. He was a selfish, foolish little boy.
Heck, the fact that he was just sitting here, thinking all about himself and pitying his own person was selfish! James blinked the angry tears out of his eyes, and inhaled sharply, sitting up and looking around.
Professor Lear, Sarafina, Orion, Serena, Cynthia, Reid, Marissa, Roma and others were all there. Professor Lear was badly burnt and smoky, especially due to his armor that he had been wearing in the fire. Sarafina was newly revived, same with Orion, Serena, and Cynthia. Sarafina was bitten all over. Orion looked like he had been stuck in a furnace forever. Serena was all bloodied up, and her hair was devastating. Cynthia seemed to be shaken up and also scorched with serious burns. Reid was looking exhausted and bloody and burnt as well. Marissa and Roma also looked dirty, and seemed to be shaken up too...
Suddenly, James came conscious of the s'mores and soda being passed around. He took a bottle, mostly to have something to hold, and passed on the chocolate and marshmallows. He didn't feel much like eating. Or doing anything, really... he was miserable. Physically, mentally and emotionally. His normal happy Hufflepuff demeanor had been dampened by fire.
He exhaled heavily, his eyes dry from tears again, but still red from them and the smoke. He regarded the bottle of soda with a look and decided to take a sip, hoping it would help him to relax or something. It hurt slightly going down, but he was okay with it. He let it hang in his fingers in between his legs, still resting his elbows on them, and resuming his previous hunched over position, gazing at the floor and his shoes.
"Does anyone know any scary stories?" Professor Lear asked. James looked up momentarily, briefly wondering how he could be so lively before inwardly nodding his head in approval of the Professor's efforts. James always strove to be like that, but he just didn't have it in him right then.
“I do...” Sarafina volunteered. “It’s called the Molly story. Once there was a rich spoiled girl. Her name was Molly..."
James also admired Sarafina's willing to be back up in happy spirits. Professor Lear and Sarafina were so much better than him, James couldn't help thinking. All of them, really. Orion had the courage to light up his wand, shouting for everyone to come to him. James was sure Orion had known some danger would be associated with that act, and he had still been brave enough to help everyone. Reid had saved Serena, and then gone back in to try and save someone else. Serena had been through so much and was still alive, so James didn't think he could even begin to compare himself to her. Cynthia had never stopped trying to help, even if it didn't quite work every time. Marissa hadn't even been involved in the disaster, but she had still arrived and helped; but James already knew Marissa was brave, so she was already amazing in his book. Same with Siege, and Ezekiel, and James didn't know who else had helped. James didn't know Roma, but he was sure she hadn't failed as bad as he did.
Yet again, the thought suddenly entered into James' head that he was being selfish, wallowing in his self-pity. He gathered up the energy to mentally kick himself, before sighing heavily again. He took another sip from the bottle and looked up again, catching the rest of Sarafina's story.
"... ‘Molly... Molly... I’m on the third floor...’ she stopped at the bottom of the staircase, seeing her parents limp bodies. The doll was coming towards her. She raced upstairs and hid in her closet. Her breathing case quick and short; her heart hammered in her ears. She heard the singing again, marking its position on the fourth floor... then it stopped. She sat there, hearing only her heartbeat for several minutes. Then two red eyes appeared in front of her...”
“The next day, the cashier at the store walked over to the row of dolls. The doll was back again, but yet again something had changed. He recognized where he had seen that face before and shook his head. He had tried to warn Molly. A little girl came into the shop and ran over to the rack. ‘Mommy, I need this one....”
From what James had heard, it was a good scary story. In fact, James would hate a life-size doll, especially one that moved, or even just stared at him. Dolls scared him, perhaps even more than spiders and fire did, even now. Dolls and needles, he just couldn't handle them.
Inevitably, James' thoughts wandered back to the events of that evening... what could have gone differently? James felt like the fact that most of them didn't do very well with their spells at all helped to make the situation worse. No matter how many times James had said it, he still hadn't been able to cast Periculum. He figured it out now that he had been saying it wrong the entire time.
Orion had cast Incendio, but it had backfired in probably the worst way possible. If this was another Muggle Dungeons and Dragons or Pathfinder role playing session, James would have assumed Orion had rolled a natural 1, which is a Critical Fail.
Many others had also tried to cast Lumos, but not many of them were successful. In fact, most of them weren't.
If only they had been better at these spells, they would have been able to do better in terms of survival... maybe...
Make a dragon in your mind and then paint it on your shoulder.
~Coming back from long absence...~
Stamina 6, Agility 6, Strength 4, Control 5, Arcane Power 4, Accuracy 5
5 May 2018, 14:20
Huff... Puff... Wheeze...
Siege's footsteps would have echoed as he paced back and forth on the Hospital Wing floor, should the room itself had been empty. Today was not the case, the room was filled with yellow, black and crimson all around. He had crimson himself, from the blood of Serena....Serena... His eyes darted from forward and where she was laying at...Her blood still lingering on his cheek and clothes, his hands covered with fresh iron. How much blood did she lose?Will...Will she come back? He wasn't sure, nor he would really like to know what god's answer to that will be. On one hand he wants her to wake up...But...She still hates him.
It wasn't fair. Neither was good for him, is that what it meant to care for someone? To love someone? Does her really have to suffer for them? He didn't want her to leave. He was just afraid that either way she'd leave him again. He was tired, but not tired at the same time. He was filled with adrenaline, like he'd just gotten into a fight, was this also caring for someone? His arms, covered with blood, felt strained, carrying the poor girl several minutes before the Hospital Wing had other Hufflepuffs in there as well.
He remembered the feeling when carrying her up...What was it? Worry? Anger? Adrenaline? A combination? It wasn't easy to explain...Especially he rarely worries for anything, or even anyone. He wasn't sure what to feel, all he knew was that he wanted her to be okay. Pulling up a chair next to her, he'd try to sit and calm down for a bit. She was just gonna be okay right? She was going to wake up right? She wasn't...No she can't, she can't leave like this. If it came to it he'd march to Heaven and Hell and raze them both just to get her back. He just didn't want her to leave, not like this...Not like this. Not ever, more specifically, although whether he wanted to admit it or not, he fears in his heart that it was beyond that now...He'll never get her back - The thoughts of never getting her back, destroyed him in the course of the month, as he would spend time outdoors by the lake. His head split in half, should he hope for her again? Should he just live on? Will he be able to live on?
He didn't know, but it seemed as if his body gave on him as he leaned by her bedside. He wanted to be her guard...To protect her from anything. But he didn't do that. He couldn't do that, it was out of his hands, she was out of his hands. He felt helpless, useless, he wasn't one to feel like this, but he did...He felt it for her. He buried his face next to her into the bed, as she was soundly sleeping. He remembered his dream...He had a dream before the flames enveloped his surroundings. Was it because of him? Was he that unstable? Did he cause it? Who caused it?...Was it his fault that she got hurt like this? He didn't want to think it, but by the looks as of right now, he might be. Her beautiful hair now cut down, if only just a bit, shorter, still made him feel like s**t. He felt like when she wakes up, not if, he won't be able to face her.
What would he do? What would he say? He was at least smart to know that he never usually thinks of his actions...would it make things worse? for the better? or just better even? He couldn't tell the future, but all he knew is that he wanted to be by her side from now on. He wanted to stay there...With her...He didn't wanna go. He wanted to stay with her, even if she wouldn't like it. He'll ignore ever hurt, wound, or anything bad from her...And stay. After all...How can he protect someone worth protecting if he's not there?
It wasn't fair. Neither was good for him, is that what it meant to care for someone? To love someone? Does her really have to suffer for them? He didn't want her to leave. He was just afraid that either way she'd leave him again. He was tired, but not tired at the same time. He was filled with adrenaline, like he'd just gotten into a fight, was this also caring for someone? His arms, covered with blood, felt strained, carrying the poor girl several minutes before the Hospital Wing had other Hufflepuffs in there as well.
He remembered the feeling when carrying her up...What was it? Worry? Anger? Adrenaline? A combination? It wasn't easy to explain...Especially he rarely worries for anything, or even anyone. He wasn't sure what to feel, all he knew was that he wanted her to be okay. Pulling up a chair next to her, he'd try to sit and calm down for a bit. She was just gonna be okay right? She was going to wake up right? She wasn't...No she can't, she can't leave like this. If it came to it he'd march to Heaven and Hell and raze them both just to get her back. He just didn't want her to leave, not like this...Not like this. Not ever, more specifically, although whether he wanted to admit it or not, he fears in his heart that it was beyond that now...He'll never get her back - The thoughts of never getting her back, destroyed him in the course of the month, as he would spend time outdoors by the lake. His head split in half, should he hope for her again? Should he just live on? Will he be able to live on?
He didn't know, but it seemed as if his body gave on him as he leaned by her bedside. He wanted to be her guard...To protect her from anything. But he didn't do that. He couldn't do that, it was out of his hands, she was out of his hands. He felt helpless, useless, he wasn't one to feel like this, but he did...He felt it for her. He buried his face next to her into the bed, as she was soundly sleeping. He remembered his dream...He had a dream before the flames enveloped his surroundings. Was it because of him? Was he that unstable? Did he cause it? Who caused it?...Was it his fault that she got hurt like this? He didn't want to think it, but by the looks as of right now, he might be. Her beautiful hair now cut down, if only just a bit, shorter, still made him feel like s**t. He felt like when she wakes up, not if, he won't be able to face her.
What would he do? What would he say? He was at least smart to know that he never usually thinks of his actions...would it make things worse? for the better? or just better even? He couldn't tell the future, but all he knew is that he wanted to be by her side from now on. He wanted to stay there...With her...He didn't wanna go. He wanted to stay with her, even if she wouldn't like it. He'll ignore ever hurt, wound, or anything bad from her...And stay. After all...How can he protect someone worth protecting if he's not there?
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Tread carefully.
5 May 2018, 18:33
Huff... Puff... Wheeze...
Amadea had been feeling very badly that she had missed out on the campout event. She had still been so new back then and hadn't felt comfortable camping with a bunch of strangers. She knew she should begin socializing and making friends, but at that time, she had figured she could just join in on the next event.
Now, as she stood at the entrance to the hospital wing, she thought to herself, I'm quite glad I didn't go on the campout. Hufflepuff students all around her were covered in dirt, soot, and other earthy materials. She could tell that they were having a rough time. Other Hufflepuffs stood over their friend's cots, talking to them. As she glanced around the room in search of someone with a familiar face, another wave of thankfulness washed over her. It wasn't that she was glad she hadn't socialized with her housemates, but rather she was glad that she wasn't in the hospital wing because of injuries from the campout. She had heard the stories: giant spiders, a fire, and some near death experiences. Amadea wasn't sure she had the guts to endure that.
She looked around the room. Some students were sitting up, looking okay, but others looked like they were barely hanging on to life. That was a terrifying predicament Amadea noted. Sitting on another bed was the head of house, Professor Solomon Lear. He looked worried, like he was barely holding himself together. She wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know how. She walked around the room, sitting down on an empty bed that was surprisingly still white and not filled with the grime many of the students had brought in.
She looked around at all of the other Hufflepuffs in the room, trying to discern who was who underneath the blood, sweat, and tears. She didn't recognize anyone she knew, not that she really knew many Hufflepuffs to begin with. This was a good enough time as any to begin getting to know people she figured. She didn't have much medical experience, but maybe she could assist in some way. Before she could get up to go ask someone, Professor Lear spoke. "Does anyone know any scary stories?" he asked.
Another girl in the room began telling a story, the Molly story. Amadea listened closely as the girl enthusiastically told the story. Amadea shivered as the girl told the story; it was definitely a good scary story. Her mind began to wander as she thought about the campout and what she must have missed, wondering again if there was some way she could help the other students.
Now, as she stood at the entrance to the hospital wing, she thought to herself, I'm quite glad I didn't go on the campout. Hufflepuff students all around her were covered in dirt, soot, and other earthy materials. She could tell that they were having a rough time. Other Hufflepuffs stood over their friend's cots, talking to them. As she glanced around the room in search of someone with a familiar face, another wave of thankfulness washed over her. It wasn't that she was glad she hadn't socialized with her housemates, but rather she was glad that she wasn't in the hospital wing because of injuries from the campout. She had heard the stories: giant spiders, a fire, and some near death experiences. Amadea wasn't sure she had the guts to endure that.
She looked around the room. Some students were sitting up, looking okay, but others looked like they were barely hanging on to life. That was a terrifying predicament Amadea noted. Sitting on another bed was the head of house, Professor Solomon Lear. He looked worried, like he was barely holding himself together. She wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know how. She walked around the room, sitting down on an empty bed that was surprisingly still white and not filled with the grime many of the students had brought in.
She looked around at all of the other Hufflepuffs in the room, trying to discern who was who underneath the blood, sweat, and tears. She didn't recognize anyone she knew, not that she really knew many Hufflepuffs to begin with. This was a good enough time as any to begin getting to know people she figured. She didn't have much medical experience, but maybe she could assist in some way. Before she could get up to go ask someone, Professor Lear spoke. "Does anyone know any scary stories?" he asked.
Another girl in the room began telling a story, the Molly story. Amadea listened closely as the girl enthusiastically told the story. Amadea shivered as the girl told the story; it was definitely a good scary story. Her mind began to wander as she thought about the campout and what she must have missed, wondering again if there was some way she could help the other students.
5 May 2018, 19:55
Huff... Puff... Wheeze...
Somehow, one way or another, they had made it. The Hufflepuffs had made it. Divided the Hufflepuffs had fallen, united they stood stronger than ever before. By working as a team, their combined strengths outweighed their individual weaknesses. Together, they had survived. And right now, in the night that was full of darkness and terrors, survival was the number one priority. Healers, professors, fellow students all ran around trying to bring the injured parties to the Hospital Wing. Anyone and everyone who was able to, pitched in their undying loyalty and support. The unconscious few were carried into the hospital, perhaps blissfully unaware of what was happening.
Serena was most definitely one of those. She had no idea what had happened or who she had to thank. Yet somehow, she was transported into the hospital, as if by magic. Or you know, by the arms and strength of many people who would quickly earn a place in her heart as her saviours. The only thought occurring in her brain was the darkness she was trapped in. She was trapped in a void, a place where no light or sound reached her. The quiet abyss hurt her more than the screams of her dying friends. The silence was more deafening... Did it mean that they were...? No, no, it couldn't. They couldn't have died. They weren't dead... Right? The silence made it harder to hope. At least with the screams, she knew they were alive. She knew she had a chance to help them... This was definitely worse. Perhaps it was too late.
Or perhaps it was a sign of her own death. Not theirs. She would give her life up for her friends, for her house, no... for her home. Perhaps, on this very night, she had done just that...
But she was thinking wasn't she? By questioning her existence, she could prove she was alive, at least to herself... I think, therefore I am... Was this heaven? Everything was black. No matter where she looked, it was dark and quiet... No, she was trapped here with her memories. In a state of pure isolation with her thoughts. This was definitely not heaven... No, this was hell. This was her punishment. This was the result of her failure...
The shadow had grasped her in its clutches. It hugged her so tightly that she felt it crush her bones. It had slashed her chest so hard that part of her rib cage was exposed. It had internally damaged her lungs and other organs causing her to struggle breathing or ended up in coughing fits that resulted in her painting the ground red. In just one move, the shadow had relentless hit her. And this was after it had already attacked her once before... The tips of her long hair, now several inches shorter than they had been, were burnt. Her clothing was drenched in the red liquid, that had been spilling out of her mouth and chest. Her wounds had reopened despite their best efforts not to. She had more scars, cuts and bruises on her skin than she had ever experienced before. She had been carried, tossed, dropped, dragged... But more importantly, she had been saved. If any of the four people who had helped her had hesitated for even a moment longer, perhaps she would not have made it here in time.
Luckily, her four saviours were brave and loyal. They risked their everything to save her. She owed them a lot, more than she knew right now. Perhaps more than she would ever know. Right now, she knew nothing. Serena Towers knew nothing.
Serena lay in one of the beds, resting. A healer by the name of Isaak something or another had thrown a couple of spells at her, sealing up the wounds. He had stopped her bleeding all over the hospital, that had already been filled with mud, dirt, soot, blood and perhaps even tears.
After a few hours of arriving in the hospital, Serena's cold lifeless body finally started to gain consciousness. The warmth started to return to her cheeks and hands. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, as she inhaled a small breath sharply. Her fingers moved a little, shaking a little from the cold. Or perhaps because her body had used most of its energy healing it that she felt colder than most people did. It had no energy to spare to heat itself up. "R-Reid? Si-" She whispered under her breath into the air before she was fully awake. Her voice was dry and weak. Probably not loud enough to hear, except to those very close by. Her throat stung, perhaps from the earlier persistent coughs. She had no idea why she said that name, it came out of her mouth without her realising it. It was as though her heart knew, even though her mind was incapable of thinking right now.
Her fingers moved a little, gently holding onto what felt like someone's hand. The warmth in his fingers moved to hers. The noise started to filter into her ears. There was a lot of it... She wasn't sure what she could hear, but she could hear something. The sound of voices... Familiar voices... What was going on?
That was when she heard it... The Hufflepuff Head of House's voice... His words hit her ears like an arrow had just pierced her heart. "These kids might die, they cannot defend themselves". It was as though the word 'die' echoed in her mind, over and over. These kids might... die... "Reid!!" Serena's dry voice suddenly called out into the silent space above her bed. Her eyes widened as she pushed herself a little to sit up, "Reid- Where are you? Are you okay-" She called out into the room, unsure of where she even was.
It suddenly hit her as she heard the Professor's voice say the word 'die'. Her friends were dying. They were in a forest. Reid was in that forest. She had rushed forward to try and save him, and anyone else who may have been there with him. All she knew was the boy she considered one of her closest friends was in danger.
"Rei-arghh-" She started again before she fell back onto the bed, her body suddenly giving up with the idea of moving so suddenly. Everything hurt. Her chest ached, her lungs were struggling to breathe and there was a pain in her arms that she had not felt before. Her dry throat was sore. The talking just resulted in a fit of coughing that took over her body, causing her body to shake violently and her lungs to sting sorely.
The pain was unimaginable to her. Until yesterday, the biggest physical pain she had ever felt was probably falling over and scraping her knee or accidentally burning herself by spilling hot tea over her chest. Since then, everything was so much worse. To this moment, she still could not describe the pain of the shadow's attack. A pain worse than being sliced by a knife and hit by a hammer at the same time.
The wound on her chest had been sealed. The bones in her arm were being healed. The damage to her lungs was fading. But everything still hurt. The adrenaline had started to leave her body by now. Everything hurt a lot more than it did earlier. Her body felt sore, heavy and weak.
Serena struggled to breathe as she coughed for a while. Someone held a glass of water to her face and gently rubbed her back as she coughed. She had no idea who it was, it may have been the healer. But she took a few small sips of the water, helping to calm her dying throat. She attempted to thank the person but she just coughed a few more times instead. But the time she managed to open her eyes up properly and look in front of her, the person had already moved the glass away.
What she did see, however, was a boy with black hair and emerald green eyes. The boy whose face was perhaps the last one she saw. Serena lay there, half sitting whilst leaning towards the side and stared at the face in front of hers. She knew it well. As though on impulse, she lunged forward and wrapped her stronger arm around his neck, pulling him into a hug. The weaker arm had attempted to do the same but it gave up half way, from too much pain. One had been hurt more than the other, it seemed. Serena hugged the boy in front of her as tightly as she could as the tears started to stream down her face.
He was okay... The fire, the darkness, the shadows hadn't hurt him...
In that moment of confusion, she couldn't recall what was real and what was not. The memories of the campout merged with her dream. At this point, everything seemed real and she didn't question how bizarre any of it was. "Siege... I- I'm so glad you're okay..." She whispered into his ear, as she had her face pressed up into the side of his, "I- Th- I thought- that everyone had-" Talking a little about the thoughts that been going over and over in her mind. "It- The fire- And then- it went dark- and-" She just kept rambling on, tears flowing down her cheeks. The entire time still talking about the dream she had, which she had started to believe was a reality. Words spilled out of her mouth quickly, her brain going into warp mode. "An- And Reid- what happened to Reid? And every- they all- did you- did you save them?" She asked him, hoping he did. He was about to save them all... Reid, Reyna, Ben, Bloom, Delilah, the Professors, everyone that was there... But then it went dark. As though she was swallowed by the shadow and she had no idea what had happened, if he managed to save them all or if he had died too...
But he was alive. He was here. So, maybe, just maybe, they were too?
There was no reason Siege would be here, if the dream wasn't real right? It was the only explanation. Wait... Where even were they?
Pulling away a little, she let her gaze fall behind him. Looking over his shoulder, she started to recognise the hospital wing. Her fellow Hufflepuffs were all around. A few were lying down on the beds, others were sitting around on them. Professors, healers, house elves... everyone was here. And everyone was covered in black soot, mud or deep crimson outfits.
Reality started to dawn on her. There wasn't a fire in Hogsmeade. There were shadows in the campout. In the cold, dark night, the screams of her fellow Hufflepuffs were heard. The creatures that attacked them all. She had passed out long before someone had brought a swarm of killer spiders towards them or the fire had burnt everything. All she remembered was trying to find Reid and instead stumbling across a dark shadow like creature. Its claws had dug into her so many times. Its darkness had engulfed her.
Serena's tears stopped flowing as the adrenaline faded away from her and reality sunk in. All of these people were in the hospital... Was it... because of her? That monster that attacked her... Did it go on to attack everyone else too? Were they all here because she had failed?
Her gaze fell onto the Head of her House. Solomon Lear's clothes were torn, the now exposed armour looked like it had taken a hit. His clothing was stained with the same red colour that was all over the floor. There was a black soot like substance on him too. She blinked. She didn't understand.
The last thing she knew was a few people were trapped in the forest with a creature. Everyone else was far away. The creature had attacked her and that was it... How did it come to this? "Wh- what happened..." She whispered, more to herself than to the boy next to her. A shiver ran down her spine. How did it come to this...?
The expressions on everyone's face was devastating. People had dirt all over on them... Blood on their clothing, burn marks on their skin. Most of the injuries had been healed up at this point. But Serena could still see the evidence all over the floors and their faces. Everyone must have gotten so badly hurt. She wasn't there to save them... She had failed. She was weak. If she had been stronger, perhaps she could have stopped this from happening.
Soft drinks and marshmallows were going around. The Professor had a smile on his face, that did not quite match up to the scenario. People were talking about something or other that sounded interesting but the words never quite reached her. She had no idea what was going on. It was as though they were telling stories.
But the mood of the room did not seem to match up to their actions. Her gaze fell onto the faces of people she knew were there. It also hit the faces of a few she had not seen at the campout. But she couldn't see him. "...W-Where's Reid?" She asked, the hesitation and fear evident in her voice. Perhaps he was behind her. Perhaps he was sitting on the other side of Siege. Her view was partially blocked by the boy she was hugging.
Wait, why was she hugging him? Why was he even here?
Suddenly pulling away from him, Serena winced as it physically hurt to move so fast but her brain seemed to panic faster than her body could react. "R-Reid?" She called out around, looking around before her eyes fell onto the boy. He did not look like he was in the best shape but he looked alive - and perhaps well, considering the situation. A sigh of relief fell over her, the first genuine smile crossing her lips, "Thank God..." She whispered, her voice full of relief. It looked like everyone had made it out. Everyone was alive.
Her eyes slowly started to doze off again, letting her head sink and her body falling slightly back towards the bed. The adrenaline that had kept her going entirely worn off by this point. She was just tired now. Her mind was a little relieved but she was just so tired. And very confused as to what had happened. Perhaps someone could fill her in... For now, she was just relieved that her friends were alive. If nothing else, they had survived. By proving their loyalty to each other, the Hufflepuffs had survived. There was no doubt that a long dark road lay ahead for some of them. But regardless of the obstacles they had to face next, at least they knew they belong here. They belong in this house. The house of the loyal.
Serena was most definitely one of those. She had no idea what had happened or who she had to thank. Yet somehow, she was transported into the hospital, as if by magic. Or you know, by the arms and strength of many people who would quickly earn a place in her heart as her saviours. The only thought occurring in her brain was the darkness she was trapped in. She was trapped in a void, a place where no light or sound reached her. The quiet abyss hurt her more than the screams of her dying friends. The silence was more deafening... Did it mean that they were...? No, no, it couldn't. They couldn't have died. They weren't dead... Right? The silence made it harder to hope. At least with the screams, she knew they were alive. She knew she had a chance to help them... This was definitely worse. Perhaps it was too late.
Or perhaps it was a sign of her own death. Not theirs. She would give her life up for her friends, for her house, no... for her home. Perhaps, on this very night, she had done just that...
But she was thinking wasn't she? By questioning her existence, she could prove she was alive, at least to herself... I think, therefore I am... Was this heaven? Everything was black. No matter where she looked, it was dark and quiet... No, she was trapped here with her memories. In a state of pure isolation with her thoughts. This was definitely not heaven... No, this was hell. This was her punishment. This was the result of her failure...
The shadow had grasped her in its clutches. It hugged her so tightly that she felt it crush her bones. It had slashed her chest so hard that part of her rib cage was exposed. It had internally damaged her lungs and other organs causing her to struggle breathing or ended up in coughing fits that resulted in her painting the ground red. In just one move, the shadow had relentless hit her. And this was after it had already attacked her once before... The tips of her long hair, now several inches shorter than they had been, were burnt. Her clothing was drenched in the red liquid, that had been spilling out of her mouth and chest. Her wounds had reopened despite their best efforts not to. She had more scars, cuts and bruises on her skin than she had ever experienced before. She had been carried, tossed, dropped, dragged... But more importantly, she had been saved. If any of the four people who had helped her had hesitated for even a moment longer, perhaps she would not have made it here in time.
Luckily, her four saviours were brave and loyal. They risked their everything to save her. She owed them a lot, more than she knew right now. Perhaps more than she would ever know. Right now, she knew nothing. Serena Towers knew nothing.
Serena lay in one of the beds, resting. A healer by the name of Isaak something or another had thrown a couple of spells at her, sealing up the wounds. He had stopped her bleeding all over the hospital, that had already been filled with mud, dirt, soot, blood and perhaps even tears.
After a few hours of arriving in the hospital, Serena's cold lifeless body finally started to gain consciousness. The warmth started to return to her cheeks and hands. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, as she inhaled a small breath sharply. Her fingers moved a little, shaking a little from the cold. Or perhaps because her body had used most of its energy healing it that she felt colder than most people did. It had no energy to spare to heat itself up. "R-Reid? Si-" She whispered under her breath into the air before she was fully awake. Her voice was dry and weak. Probably not loud enough to hear, except to those very close by. Her throat stung, perhaps from the earlier persistent coughs. She had no idea why she said that name, it came out of her mouth without her realising it. It was as though her heart knew, even though her mind was incapable of thinking right now.
Her fingers moved a little, gently holding onto what felt like someone's hand. The warmth in his fingers moved to hers. The noise started to filter into her ears. There was a lot of it... She wasn't sure what she could hear, but she could hear something. The sound of voices... Familiar voices... What was going on?
That was when she heard it... The Hufflepuff Head of House's voice... His words hit her ears like an arrow had just pierced her heart. "These kids might die, they cannot defend themselves". It was as though the word 'die' echoed in her mind, over and over. These kids might... die... "Reid!!" Serena's dry voice suddenly called out into the silent space above her bed. Her eyes widened as she pushed herself a little to sit up, "Reid- Where are you? Are you okay-" She called out into the room, unsure of where she even was.
It suddenly hit her as she heard the Professor's voice say the word 'die'. Her friends were dying. They were in a forest. Reid was in that forest. She had rushed forward to try and save him, and anyone else who may have been there with him. All she knew was the boy she considered one of her closest friends was in danger.
"Rei-arghh-" She started again before she fell back onto the bed, her body suddenly giving up with the idea of moving so suddenly. Everything hurt. Her chest ached, her lungs were struggling to breathe and there was a pain in her arms that she had not felt before. Her dry throat was sore. The talking just resulted in a fit of coughing that took over her body, causing her body to shake violently and her lungs to sting sorely.
The pain was unimaginable to her. Until yesterday, the biggest physical pain she had ever felt was probably falling over and scraping her knee or accidentally burning herself by spilling hot tea over her chest. Since then, everything was so much worse. To this moment, she still could not describe the pain of the shadow's attack. A pain worse than being sliced by a knife and hit by a hammer at the same time.
The wound on her chest had been sealed. The bones in her arm were being healed. The damage to her lungs was fading. But everything still hurt. The adrenaline had started to leave her body by now. Everything hurt a lot more than it did earlier. Her body felt sore, heavy and weak.
Serena struggled to breathe as she coughed for a while. Someone held a glass of water to her face and gently rubbed her back as she coughed. She had no idea who it was, it may have been the healer. But she took a few small sips of the water, helping to calm her dying throat. She attempted to thank the person but she just coughed a few more times instead. But the time she managed to open her eyes up properly and look in front of her, the person had already moved the glass away.
What she did see, however, was a boy with black hair and emerald green eyes. The boy whose face was perhaps the last one she saw. Serena lay there, half sitting whilst leaning towards the side and stared at the face in front of hers. She knew it well. As though on impulse, she lunged forward and wrapped her stronger arm around his neck, pulling him into a hug. The weaker arm had attempted to do the same but it gave up half way, from too much pain. One had been hurt more than the other, it seemed. Serena hugged the boy in front of her as tightly as she could as the tears started to stream down her face.
He was okay... The fire, the darkness, the shadows hadn't hurt him...
In that moment of confusion, she couldn't recall what was real and what was not. The memories of the campout merged with her dream. At this point, everything seemed real and she didn't question how bizarre any of it was. "Siege... I- I'm so glad you're okay..." She whispered into his ear, as she had her face pressed up into the side of his, "I- Th- I thought- that everyone had-" Talking a little about the thoughts that been going over and over in her mind. "It- The fire- And then- it went dark- and-" She just kept rambling on, tears flowing down her cheeks. The entire time still talking about the dream she had, which she had started to believe was a reality. Words spilled out of her mouth quickly, her brain going into warp mode. "An- And Reid- what happened to Reid? And every- they all- did you- did you save them?" She asked him, hoping he did. He was about to save them all... Reid, Reyna, Ben, Bloom, Delilah, the Professors, everyone that was there... But then it went dark. As though she was swallowed by the shadow and she had no idea what had happened, if he managed to save them all or if he had died too...
But he was alive. He was here. So, maybe, just maybe, they were too?
There was no reason Siege would be here, if the dream wasn't real right? It was the only explanation. Wait... Where even were they?
Pulling away a little, she let her gaze fall behind him. Looking over his shoulder, she started to recognise the hospital wing. Her fellow Hufflepuffs were all around. A few were lying down on the beds, others were sitting around on them. Professors, healers, house elves... everyone was here. And everyone was covered in black soot, mud or deep crimson outfits.
Reality started to dawn on her. There wasn't a fire in Hogsmeade. There were shadows in the campout. In the cold, dark night, the screams of her fellow Hufflepuffs were heard. The creatures that attacked them all. She had passed out long before someone had brought a swarm of killer spiders towards them or the fire had burnt everything. All she remembered was trying to find Reid and instead stumbling across a dark shadow like creature. Its claws had dug into her so many times. Its darkness had engulfed her.
Serena's tears stopped flowing as the adrenaline faded away from her and reality sunk in. All of these people were in the hospital... Was it... because of her? That monster that attacked her... Did it go on to attack everyone else too? Were they all here because she had failed?
Her gaze fell onto the Head of her House. Solomon Lear's clothes were torn, the now exposed armour looked like it had taken a hit. His clothing was stained with the same red colour that was all over the floor. There was a black soot like substance on him too. She blinked. She didn't understand.
The last thing she knew was a few people were trapped in the forest with a creature. Everyone else was far away. The creature had attacked her and that was it... How did it come to this? "Wh- what happened..." She whispered, more to herself than to the boy next to her. A shiver ran down her spine. How did it come to this...?
The expressions on everyone's face was devastating. People had dirt all over on them... Blood on their clothing, burn marks on their skin. Most of the injuries had been healed up at this point. But Serena could still see the evidence all over the floors and their faces. Everyone must have gotten so badly hurt. She wasn't there to save them... She had failed. She was weak. If she had been stronger, perhaps she could have stopped this from happening.
Soft drinks and marshmallows were going around. The Professor had a smile on his face, that did not quite match up to the scenario. People were talking about something or other that sounded interesting but the words never quite reached her. She had no idea what was going on. It was as though they were telling stories.
But the mood of the room did not seem to match up to their actions. Her gaze fell onto the faces of people she knew were there. It also hit the faces of a few she had not seen at the campout. But she couldn't see him. "...W-Where's Reid?" She asked, the hesitation and fear evident in her voice. Perhaps he was behind her. Perhaps he was sitting on the other side of Siege. Her view was partially blocked by the boy she was hugging.
Wait, why was she hugging him? Why was he even here?
Suddenly pulling away from him, Serena winced as it physically hurt to move so fast but her brain seemed to panic faster than her body could react. "R-Reid?" She called out around, looking around before her eyes fell onto the boy. He did not look like he was in the best shape but he looked alive - and perhaps well, considering the situation. A sigh of relief fell over her, the first genuine smile crossing her lips, "Thank God..." She whispered, her voice full of relief. It looked like everyone had made it out. Everyone was alive.
Her eyes slowly started to doze off again, letting her head sink and her body falling slightly back towards the bed. The adrenaline that had kept her going entirely worn off by this point. She was just tired now. Her mind was a little relieved but she was just so tired. And very confused as to what had happened. Perhaps someone could fill her in... For now, she was just relieved that her friends were alive. If nothing else, they had survived. By proving their loyalty to each other, the Hufflepuffs had survived. There was no doubt that a long dark road lay ahead for some of them. But regardless of the obstacles they had to face next, at least they knew they belong here. They belong in this house. The house of the loyal.
Reducio
SERENA IS GOING TO BE DRIFTING IN AND OUT OF CONSCIOUSNESS.
I'm away most of this month and unable to post properly so this seemed like a good solution. Please ignore me for all post orders and such. I am unlikely be able to post between Mid-May to End of May. I will try to make sure I reply to anyone talking to her now before then but if I don't manage it, just assume she passed out again.
If you wish to do a thread with Serena specifically then drop me an owl and I'll set one up when I can~
I'm away most of this month and unable to post properly so this seemed like a good solution. Please ignore me for all post orders and such. I am unlikely be able to post between Mid-May to End of May. I will try to make sure I reply to anyone talking to her now before then but if I don't manage it, just assume she passed out again.
If you wish to do a thread with Serena specifically then drop me an owl and I'll set one up when I can~
PC: Serena Towers | iNPC: Arjan Oberoi | Other: Hjørdis Jensen & Xiomara Torres
Part-Goblin | Evasive Maneuvers | Beastmaster | Paragon of Health
Sta: 10 | Eva: 17 | Str: 3 | Wis: 15 | Arc Power: 10 | Acc: 15
Part-Goblin | Evasive Maneuvers | Beastmaster | Paragon of Health
Sta: 10 | Eva: 17 | Str: 3 | Wis: 15 | Arc Power: 10 | Acc: 15
7 May 2018, 04:12
Huff... Puff... Wheeze...
Howie sprinted out of the Hufflepuff Common Room, racing upstairs toward the hospital wing. One of his fellow Huffles had just told him about the events of the camping trip. Howie had arrived at Hogwarts too late to attend, but he knew he just had to do something.
His heart raced as he climbed the stairs, trying to brace himself for the scene he was about to witness. The other boy had only given him brief details, something about a swarm of spiders and a forest fire. Climbing the last few steps, Howie burst through the doors of the hospital wing.
Howie gasped, backing against the door. Looking around he saw the beds full of his injured classmates. They were all covered with soot and ash, some bleeding, some not even conscious. He had never seen anything like it in his life. It looked like a scene out of the war movies he used to watch with his grandpa back home. Howie hadn’t the chance to meet any of these students, the only face he recognized was that of Professor Lear, who now sat on the end of one of the beds looking quite worried.
Howie saw a foreign looking wizard moving around from bed to bed, caring for the injured. Taking a deep breath, Howie stepped forward. He was going to offer to help in some way, knowing he hadn’t the skills or knowledge, but he couldn’t just stand there. Just as he was about to raise his voice, Professor Lear said. “A camp out still!” Going on to call for s’mores and a ghost story. One of the young witches volunteered and began. A house elf approached Howie with soda and s’mores, which he passed on, wanting to make sure there was enough for those that needed the distraction. Howie backed up against the door again, quietly listening. He would wait there patiently until someone needed something, he would stay until he knew everyone was going to be ok.
His heart raced as he climbed the stairs, trying to brace himself for the scene he was about to witness. The other boy had only given him brief details, something about a swarm of spiders and a forest fire. Climbing the last few steps, Howie burst through the doors of the hospital wing.
Howie gasped, backing against the door. Looking around he saw the beds full of his injured classmates. They were all covered with soot and ash, some bleeding, some not even conscious. He had never seen anything like it in his life. It looked like a scene out of the war movies he used to watch with his grandpa back home. Howie hadn’t the chance to meet any of these students, the only face he recognized was that of Professor Lear, who now sat on the end of one of the beds looking quite worried.
Howie saw a foreign looking wizard moving around from bed to bed, caring for the injured. Taking a deep breath, Howie stepped forward. He was going to offer to help in some way, knowing he hadn’t the skills or knowledge, but he couldn’t just stand there. Just as he was about to raise his voice, Professor Lear said. “A camp out still!” Going on to call for s’mores and a ghost story. One of the young witches volunteered and began. A house elf approached Howie with soda and s’mores, which he passed on, wanting to make sure there was enough for those that needed the distraction. Howie backed up against the door again, quietly listening. He would wait there patiently until someone needed something, he would stay until he knew everyone was going to be ok.
7 May 2018, 16:05
Huff... Puff... Wheeze...
Coughing and wheezing, she practically collapsed on the floor as soon as she entered the hospital wing. Her eyes still stung and her throat felt dry and hoarse, she was covered in dust and ash, and smelled strongly of smoke. Her eyes scanned the hospital wing desperately in search of a familiar face, but the tears in her eyes made her vision blurry. She tried to take in deep breaths, hoping to reclaim oxygen that she had lost, she slowly stood up and made her way over to a free bed.
That was when realisation struck her. She had left all of her stuff back down there. She sucked in a breath, there was nothing she could do now but hope that her belongings had not been destroyed by the raging and seemingly unrelenting fire. She was left alone with her thoughts, a sadness overtook her, how could something that was supposed to be fun, turn into something so horrible and devastating. She then began to think what would have happened if she had gotten there only a few minutes later, would she have been able to help Serena? Would she have been more seriously injured? Marissa tried to stop her self but her mind filled with what if's, they swirled around her head, almost completely consuming her mind.
That was when realisation struck her. She had left all of her stuff back down there. She sucked in a breath, there was nothing she could do now but hope that her belongings had not been destroyed by the raging and seemingly unrelenting fire. She was left alone with her thoughts, a sadness overtook her, how could something that was supposed to be fun, turn into something so horrible and devastating. She then began to think what would have happened if she had gotten there only a few minutes later, would she have been able to help Serena? Would she have been more seriously injured? Marissa tried to stop her self but her mind filled with what if's, they swirled around her head, almost completely consuming her mind.
M. North
7 May 2018, 16:32
Huff... Puff... Wheeze...
Cynthia had awoken some time later, finding herself in the Hospital Wing along with several other students from the campout and Professor Lear himself. At first, she didn’t know why they were all there until recent events suddenly came to mind. Hufflepuff students were being treated to a campout with Professor Lear, their Head of House. Everyone had been having such a wonderful time until…darkness came alive and started to attack the students. Someone had cast Incendio and that set the forest on fire. Students were caught in the fire. Some were burned and suffered smoke inhalation. She looked down at her injuries to find they have been tended to.
She looked up as Professor Lear handed her a smore. She smiled as she said, “Thank you, Professor. And…I’m sorry.” Her eyes had begun to well up with unshed tears that she tried hard to blink away and put on a brave face. “You were very brave,” Professor Lear had told her and that simple statement was enough to make her feel a little better. She really wanted Professor Lear to know how truly sorry she was about the flashlight incident. How she regretted bringing it along now and was beating herself up over it. She was glad that no one had died in the tragedy that had befallen everyone involved. She felt completely awful for everything that happened and that everyone’s lives were put into such horrible danger. She made a promise to herself from then on that she would never bring a muggle device anywhere near a magical place such as Hogwarts. For now, she wanted her parents by her side.
Looking up at Professor Lear, she asked “Are my parents coming, Professor?” Cynthia looked on the verge of crying. Her parents always made things better. She didn’t know how they would react to something like this. They had always protected her and kept her safe. What would they say when they saw her in her current condition? She listened as someone started to tell a scary story. Hadn’t they had enough scares for one night?
She looked up as Professor Lear handed her a smore. She smiled as she said, “Thank you, Professor. And…I’m sorry.” Her eyes had begun to well up with unshed tears that she tried hard to blink away and put on a brave face. “You were very brave,” Professor Lear had told her and that simple statement was enough to make her feel a little better. She really wanted Professor Lear to know how truly sorry she was about the flashlight incident. How she regretted bringing it along now and was beating herself up over it. She was glad that no one had died in the tragedy that had befallen everyone involved. She felt completely awful for everything that happened and that everyone’s lives were put into such horrible danger. She made a promise to herself from then on that she would never bring a muggle device anywhere near a magical place such as Hogwarts. For now, she wanted her parents by her side.
Looking up at Professor Lear, she asked “Are my parents coming, Professor?” Cynthia looked on the verge of crying. Her parents always made things better. She didn’t know how they would react to something like this. They had always protected her and kept her safe. What would they say when they saw her in her current condition? She listened as someone started to tell a scary story. Hadn’t they had enough scares for one night?
10 May 2018, 15:21
Huff... Puff... Wheeze...
Ezekiel had half dragged, half carried Orion into the hospital wing, placing him on the first open bed and flopping down onto the one beside him. He was exhausted, the pain was starting to reach him now that his adrenaline was fading. He looked out one of the windows towards the once burning campsite. The flames were nearing their ends, the forest was scorched for as far as Ezekiel could see as well. He huffed and laid back on the bed, the few nurses running between students, doing their best to make sure all of them were comfortable and not in immediate danger.
He coughed roughly, the smoke like a beast trying to force its way out of his chest. It had hurt to breath, and trying to carry Orion up here as well didn't make it any easier. He smiled softly at people who had walked into the room, and to the other students and nurses. He just wanted to sleep, but they kept advising against it. He had nodded off once in the time he was there, and was just as quickly shook awake. He sighed quietly, looking to Professor Lear at the head of the room. He was trying his best to keep the students excited and awake.
He coughed roughly, the smoke like a beast trying to force its way out of his chest. It had hurt to breath, and trying to carry Orion up here as well didn't make it any easier. He smiled softly at people who had walked into the room, and to the other students and nurses. He just wanted to sleep, but they kept advising against it. He had nodded off once in the time he was there, and was just as quickly shook awake. He sighed quietly, looking to Professor Lear at the head of the room. He was trying his best to keep the students excited and awake.
Name's Wasek, Ezekiel Wasek
Stamina:3 Evasion:8 Strength:2 Wisdom:8 ArcPower:8 Accuracy:6