Secret Blossom Ball Event Finished

It turned out that trying to do one spell was much easier than trying to do two -- who would've guessed? Adam felt a mix of gratification and mild disgust as his spell sliced through the creature's eye and set the thing into a blind whirl. It buzzed dangerously close to him and lashed out with its stinger again; due to either its visual impairment or Adam's clumsy dodge, however, the worst of the damage was spared. Adam felt the stinger tear through his other pant leg and scrape his skin. His pants were cut in matching places now, almost like a fashion statement. If this kept up, he was going to be wearing shorts by the time the fight was over.

Still, he felt a lot better than the creature looked, which was a good sign. While Adam's fight might have started as a valiant attempt to protect his peers, it had turned into something else after a few hits. The only thing that he wanted to do now was kill this monster. He glared up at it and brought his wand around for another tried-and-true attack with the Severing Charm. If there was one good thing about this turn of events at the Blossom Ball, it was that he was realizing how few offensive spells were in his arsenal. He would've loved to blow the bug-creature straight to Hell with some sort of explosion, but that was currently beyond his abilities, so Adam would make do with some more slicing and dicing.

The third-year eyed the creature warily, searching for a spot that would maximize the spell's damage. He was definitely not an expert on this type of beast (he didn't even know its name), but he could tell which parts looked promising. It wouldn't be smart to go for the darker-colored head, which almost looked armored. In comparison, the lighter, fleshier-seeming area on the bug's stomach was a prime target. The only issue was how to get to it...

As Adam hovered just out of striking distance, he was reminded suddenly of the superhero movies that he and Eris had used to love. An idea -- a totally unrealistic, probably impossible idea -- came to mind. The Avengers were always doing crazy stunts to win their battles, and while most of them were too complicated to track, some of them were simple enough. It wouldn't be very hard to slide under the creature, as long as he could avoid the stingers, and then he'd be able to slice at the thing's stomach from close range. If it was like most other animals, its underbelly would be a vulnerable spot. It was worth a try, at least; there weren't many other options left.

He took a few deep breaths, bent his knees, and then ran before he could doubt himself. He could feel the wind breezing through the tears in his pants and messing with his hair. Once he got close enough to the flying bug, he dropped into a slide and tugged his wand straight up over his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, mustered as much focus as he could, and shouted out the now-familiar incantation. "Diffindo!"

If this worked, it was going to be very impressive. If not, he doubted that his luck was going to save him a third time from a bad sting.

ACTION: Slide under Mosp 13 to cast Diffindo at its stomach

STA: 12 | EVA: 4 | STR: 6 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 9 | ACC: 8
Calming Presence ~ Spell Spread ~ Prodigal Charms Learner

Outfit:

Reducio

Well, Flash had got in the way, which really, was good enough. Sent plummeting to the ground in a powerful roundhouse kick to the face, Flash’s head was filled first with only blinding pain, then a complete loss of his sense of space. All of it came together nicely with the thud of his butt on the dance floor, followed by his back and the back of his head as he skidded what distance his momentum demanded. He couldn’t move, the initial shock needed time to wear off before he could start to feel the immense, concentrated pain wash over him like the front of his skull was exploding. What, did he have cement in his boots? Flash saw nothing but the starry landscape of the back of his eyelids, barely able to grasp what was up and what was down.

Feeling for the ground, Flash lurched over to his side, trying to gain a sense of space and regain his breath. Then… another swift kick to the face, knocking him back to the desolate earth. This was not the same heavy boot his face so kindly made acquaintance with earlier, but more like a cute, soft girl’s sandal. It reignited the pain right from its origin, Flash was now conscious enough to grab at the swelling, as if he could do anything at all to lessen the damage. It gave him more information, at least. He was bleeding a good amount from his nose. Too much, really, though it wasn’t a complete shock. Having played football in school, he had plenty of bloody noses. It was… broken, for sure. It wasn’t anything magic couldn’t fix perfectly well, but he was also coincidentally surrounded by blood sucking mosps, so the condition was hardly welcome.

Flash knew first aid, at least. He knew he had to lean forward and breathe through his mouth so the blood wouldn’t drain into his throat. Lord, why the taste of blood... He needed ice… well, all in all, he needed to leave the ball and seek help. His pathway to healing was interrupted when Willow started talking, and cursing, swiftly asking for Flash’s bow tie. Willow is hurt?! She looked alright, but the same kind of alright she was when she pricked her finger on an unknown magic thorn, or put her hand into a fire to grab a piece of food. The belligerent Willow had arrived, and all sense of self preservation had left. He had to protect her.

Handing over his bow tie swiftly, yet hiding his nose with one hand, he watched her continue to fight the mosps with her powerful fire magic. Flash took a second to look around him. The pitch lit up, he could see the chaos unfolding. The pain still welling between his eyes, the details were fuzzy, but there was definitely a bunch of fire. Even egged on by the motivation to make sure Opeila and Willow were safe, another part of him just wanted to lie down and look at the stars. He honestly never got a chance to anymore, and he really did have to keep his head up and tilted back.

Alas, waiting in silence for the flames to consume him was but a flight of fancy. He shakily tried to get back on his feet, having trouble at first, but able to get his bearings eventually. Right next to him, Vladimir was finally going to confront Selim, seeming to be satisfied with leaving Flash, Opeila, and Willow to the mosps that were clearly targeting them. Flash couldn’t help him any more than he could help himself. Willow needed him more, and he was willing to be just as belligerent as she was.

Right, by trying to tackle the mosp that was attacking her.

Action:
Free action: Having a broken nose
Action: Tackling Mosp #11
Stats:
Sta: 7 ★ Eva: 5 ★ Str: 6 ★ Wis: 8 ★ AP: 3 ★ Acc: 6
Ability:
Calming Presence

Interacting with: @Willow Anderson
Mentioning: @Opeila Seilun @Selim Faust

Previous posts: Pre-ball, Entrance, Recon, Asked to dance, Spots Vlad on dance floor, Dancing with Ruka, Talking to Ruka, Lamenting, Executing plan, Running to Willow, Talking to Vlad, Hugging Willow

Closed to Interaction
Owl me if you have an idea

Opeila missed.
Or- No, she didn't. Actually it hit right in the face. Just not the person she had targeted. Willow's doubts should have been cleared at Opeila's horryfied expression when her kick hit Flash right in the face. She had almost lost her balance, when she first realized that she would miss Vlad, but hitting Flash...
Burning hot fear, pain and guilt ran through Opeila. She hadhurt her friend. Possibly the only real friend she had here. Only because of her stupid plan and... Rafa's and Willow's interference, that had caused this fight to start at the beginning. Still terrified she kneeled down next to Flash, exaining his face in the light of her wand. "Oh damn, Flash, I am so sorry...", she wispered.
Willow's words distracted her from Flash.

Opeila thought for a moment that she had misunderstood her. Had she just asked for the fight to stop? Seriously? What an absolut hypocrite. As much as she had gotten to like Willow, this was just ridiculous. "Are you kidding me? You kick a fight loose and then think you can just command people to stop, acting like the adult among the kids?! That's not how things wor-" Again she got distracted, by Vladimir this time, who ran towards Selim, her experiment partner. "Oh, you will not... Tarantallegra!" Opeila pointed her wand towards Vladimir. She needed answers from him and she needed Selim, she would not allow any of them to injure the other, if she had the power to stop them from doing so.

And then the mosp stung Willow, forcing Opeila's attention back to it. That was when she realized her mistake. She had sacrificed her wandlight.
"Fl- Flash, don't!", she shouted horrified, when her best friend got back to his feet... and tackled the mosp.

Action: Casting Tarantallegra at Vladimir.

Mentioning: @Flash Holmwood @Selim Faust @Vladimir Athanatos @Willow Anderson @Rafael D'Spacito

Interacting with @Marion Davenport and @Anastasia Beckett
Mentions @Lark Flaer, @Allister-Jameson MacAllister, @Amara Dragamior @Victor Moore, @Jack Burnett and @May Moonstar

Every single person here was an idiot.

Well, maybe that was a little too harsh. Everyone except for Ivy was an idiot.

The white-haired girl (Lark) who had a panic attack earlier on was kissing someone (AJ), for God's sake. Not only was that absolutely disgusting, Ana was practically dying - was this really the best time to profess their love for each other? Everyone had gone absolutely crazy. Ivy's childhood friend, May, although initially terrified by the mosps, had caught onto the idea and thrown a goblet of water in Ana's direction. Ok, maybe May wasn't a complete idiot, but Ivy was now firmly convinced that the other girl who had picked up goblets (Amara) was absolutely psychotic. First of all, she had dropped the goblets onto her own feet, and now she was... dancing?! Ivy gaped at her, her expression a mixture of shock and disgust, before turning back to her doppelganger with a shake of her head. You can settle this with her later. Just focus on getting Ana out alive.

For a moment, the spells and water appeared to have extinguished the flames. Ivy would sag in relief, the goblets she had picked up dropping to the grass beside her, and approach her doppelganger with the intention of helping her up and dragging her to the hospital wing. There was no doubt that the burns would be extremely severe and needed medical treatment from the nurses. But as she approached, Ana burst into flames again. Ivy jumped backwards, staring at her doppelganger's body in horror. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out a solution, when she noticed that a couple of people (Marion, Jack and Victor) were surrounding a vase of flowers... the flowers that Ana had set fire to. As Ivy watched them attempt to extinguish the flowers, she finally caught onto what was going on. It was the flowers. They were cursed, no doubt, but Ivy had no idea how Ana had gotten herself into that situation. One of the boys near the flowers (Victor) was also on fire - honestly, what was it with Hogwarts students and fires?

Why, oh why, did I not bring my wand?! This would be so much easier if she had. Running back over to the tables, she would pick up as many goblets as she could and run to where the group stood near the flowers. The girl (Marion) was in hysterics, something that Ivy found very irritating. It wasn't her who was on fire, for God's sake. Her thoughts of the blonde would be somewhat similar to her Ana's thoughts of Lark's panic attack earlier, only she would vocalise them spitefully as she tossed water over the flaming flowers. "Stop crying!" she would demand the older girl, clearly pissed off. "Focus on putting the fire out!" Perhaps it was a little insensitive, but Ivy was never the kind of person to dwell on this sort of thing. She could be strong in situations like this - there was plenty of time to fall apart later.

IF THE FLOWERS AND ANA AND VICTOR ARE NOT PUT OUT

Ivy clenched her teeth in frustration and tossed the empty water goblets to the ground. Damnit. The Gryffindor would run back to the table again, take more goblets and water the roses. This was getting rather annoying, but Ivy was also panicking, because there was a very real, and very scary possibility of people dying now.

IF THE FLOWERS ARE PUT OUT BUT ANA AND VICTOR ARE NOT

Well, that was one problem solved, but now both the boy (Victor) and Ana were still on fire. Maybe the fires between the roses and the two students were unrelated? If so, Ivy had literally just wasted her energy trying to put the flowers out.

Ugh, whatever. Now was not the time to be thinking that. Ivy ran back to the table for more water goblets and throw the water at the boy, seeing as Ana had plenty of people to help her. I'm sorry, Ana, she thought grimly. No one was helping this boy for some reason, and if he died... no. He wasn't going to die, no one was. Not if Ivy could help it.

IF THE FLOWERS AND ANA AND VICTOR ARE PUT OUT

Ivy would not make the mistake of drawing conclusions too quickly again. She would watch both the flowers and her peers carefully, making sure that they would not burst into flames again - and when they didn't, she sighed with relief, goblets falling to the ground. Finally. Ivy began to talk to the boy. "You should go to the h-"

But before she could finish her sentence, a yell nearby caught her attention. It was Ana. For a moment, Ivy thought she had caught fire again, but it was actually her calling 'Rafa' an ass. Interesting choice of words - wait. The Gryffindor turned around just in time to see her idiotic doppelganger launch into the air on a broomstick. "What the-?"

Everyone had gone absolutely mental. Ivy would run towards the rack of broomsticks and mount one of them, hands shaking slightly. What was Ana doing? She was hurt, she needed medical help, why was she trying to get herself killed? Mental note: get Ana to a psychologist. Launching into the air, she would try and find her doppelganger in the darkness. "Ana, you idiot! Get down!"

Stamina: 6│Evasion: 6│Strength: 5│Wisdom 7│Arcane Power 5│Accuracy 6

Ability: Evasive Maneuvers

ACTION
Throwing water on the roses
OR
Throwing water on Victor
OR
Flying on a broom and trying to find Ana

Adaptation. We, as humans, are forced to adapt to achieve the ends we seek. Things rarely go according to plan. What separates a success from a failure, is preparation to deviate from this predestined course of action. To consider the improbabilities, planned reaction to friction, actively surveying one’s surroundings for the implausible prospects, such as the anthomaniac overgrown fluttering insects drawn here this evening by instinctual passion. In addition, the wild cards, the many students with their own agenda, or groups with a collective goal. Thomas was no exception, his purpose at the ball tonight goes far beyond the traditional expectations: a drink, a dance, a kiss. But unlike others, Thomas was prepared…for the friction, the improbabilities, the wild cards. It was an expectation.

A recap if you will. Thomas dressed for the occasion, yes. Death did not fall under the list of implausibility this evening. Not for the death of another, but himself. Not literally dying. The official death of his innocence, and any sense of morality he clung to. Not that the viewpoint amongst peers viewed the damaged boy to be innocent. On the contrary, he has established himself as an eerie presence to those that know him. The repercussions of his actions tonight would set into motion a path he would not veer from, one he could not redeem.

The puppet becomes the puppet master. A willing participant in a scheme he did not fully understand. Like a chess piece, Thomas placed Selim Faust in a position to achieve the mission. A position of betrayal. The target of the evening. I’m hoping to make…a good impression. The signs were there from the beginning, the smug comment that left his lips earlier this evening may have masked this essential fact: He was not lying. The target, yes, but not in the way Selim may have thought.

The approach to Marion and Victor merely a failed ploy to gain the attention of this target. Thomas did not waver or panic, abandoning the initial plan the moment he knew it was lost. Becoming the silent observer, with the façade of his interaction with the photographer. In the midst of reworking this plan…adapting, a pleasant surprised arrived from the interaction. Santario Martin, a name he would not forget. Not some schoolboy crush, no, relatability. Not hesitant to speak her mind, no intimidated by his cold demeanor. She matched him with little effort, possibly clever enough to see past the front, the fact he was not any more dangerous than he was lost.

Then came the friction in the form of an obnoxiously strong third year, armed with her ex-boyfriend, looking to confront Thomas...like an episode of cheaters. Which leads us to the present moment. Erin would scoff when the boy attempted to create a firewall, high visual encouragement and made possible by his Firefox. The fire was underwhelming. Perhaps the boy has seen too many movies, the expectation the firewhiskey would create a six-foot high wall between his opponent did not arrive. Through the smoke and flame, a flash of light shot from Erin’s wand. Thomas was not prepared, reacting far too late. Given the arsenal of spells the part-veela likely had, he was expecting to be petrified, flying through the air, or dropped like a frozen brick. Instead, his legs jolted in various directions to preform an eccentric Irish dance. Tap, tap, tap. His feet moved uncontrollably despite his efforts to repress. Some students were terrified in the face of mosp stingers, others literally burning alive, but Thomas? Thomas was dancing.

Say what you will about the disappointing fire. Albeit dancing, the boy still achieved the desired result of this act. Erin Ryan turned away with her lackey intending to leave the boy with the dance of death. Thomas would happily let her go, but not without a final comment. “Sure, you don’t want to stick around?” Heavy breaths from the excessive movement intertwined his last attempt at a cheeky remark. “May be your last chance for a dance!” The boy looked like a bloody fool as he hopped around. Erin may have won this round, but there were many more to come.

More delays. Persephone Barret approached Thomas, but the expected hostility was replaced with smug passivity. A closing remark for their brief interaction. Her lively green eyes implied and intended agenda that she would presently forgo. Ironic, the blonde’s inclination to chaos would have the boy assume this environment well suited for a follow up attack. "Alright, Lestrange. It’s been exceptionally fun…But I’m afraid our business will have to wait. Believe me, I’ll be seeing you.” Business? Whatever malevolence remained within the blonde was certainly outweighed by Thomas’ insistence to get even. Narrow icy blue hues found her, a cold stare to express future intentions. “Believe me, you will.”

Just like that, these improbabilities, the implausible prospects have left the scene. Allowing
Thomas to refocus his goals. Objective A: stop this fire dance. As visually pleasing as it may have been for the fire fox by his side, Thomas expressed his discontent in a weary stare at Tan. A name he now knows after overhearing bits and pieces of his interaction with the other fox. “Tan…” His expression said it all, no more words were necessary. Please make it stop.

Thomas’ sights relocated the Ravenclaw boy at the center of attacks, the bane of the ball. Vladimir was under duress; several students attacked the boy over the last half an hour. None of the attacks were provoked on this evening, seemingly a carryover from past events and respective beliefs of the assailants. The bag a hot commodity, drawing the attention of many students. Personally, Thomas did not care of Vlad’s innocence regarding alleged crimes. The information provided by his blonde counterpart supplied the belief he had information pertaining to a personal matter. Revealing the mission Thomas had this evening, a step towards gaining his favor. A selfish boy indeed.

Assuming the fire torch on the pitch was not fully submerged in flames by now, Thomas would retrieve the torch, wielding it to ward Tan and himself from any encroaching mosps. An explanation would be in order for the fire fox, one Thomas would provide as he beckoned the boy by his side, approaching Vladimir. “All night, this boy has been under fire...Vladimir” Thomas realized he should clarify the idiom referred to Vlad, and not the several people literally on fire. “And for what? There’s no proof to support their accusations…what has he done? He is outnumbered. He needs our help.” Thomas spoke with stern conviction. Tan may have known better, but from the outside looking in, Vlad appeared to be a victim. An image Thomas would manipulatively attempt to paint to further the assistance of his new companion.

If Tan was successful in casting finite, Thomas would urge the boy to come along with him in his approach to the group surrounding Vlad. The moment was right, it was time to show his hand.

TL;DR ~ Recap the evening, revealing Thomas' plan, dancing.

Action: Helplessly dancing ~ Warning, some viewers may find the image below disturbing

Mentions: @Santario Martin @Selim Faust @Vladimir Athanatos

Interactions: @Ruka Tân @Erin Ryan @Persephone Barret

Outfit:

Reducio

Percival could not tell whether or not his pick up line had worked. He stood there for a second wondering exactly what the boy thought of it.

Though from the boy's rather unfazed response, he could guess that it had failed. Percival had trouble on deciphering the boy's response. Such an emotionless response had to mean failure.

He felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment as he debated on just turning around and leaving.

To add salt to the injury he watched as the boy practically tackled the troublemaker he had been trying to protect. His plan to distract the older student had failed spectacularly.

The sudden spring to rage caught Percival off guard, and he could do nothing but watch dumbly.

Percival honestly wondered how the boy could go from a blank slate to boiling mad in less than two seconds.

Percival decided that this boy seemed to be a little stranger than just his sense of fashion.

Even though Percival wanted to leave, he found himself unable to leave. Sadly, Selim was apart of his dorm, and he couldn't just leave a dormmate to fend for themselves.

[If Selim is able to escape]

Percival quickly stepped in and grabbed onto Selim's arm. Specifically, the one that held the dagger.

He didn't want Selim to get all stab happy. Especially when that was not the only problem they had at this moment.

"Selim we need to leave." he said with a frown.

If he could convince the other to leave then hopefully they would both leave today unscathed.

Percival just hoped that the boy had whatever he had been trying to find.

He would pull a little harder on the other's sleeve in hopes of encouraging the other to make a break for the exit with him.


[If Selim is unable to escape]

Percival decided at that moment that he had to do something and step in.

He could not just sit by and watch his dormmate get obliterated to tiny pieces by this Durmstrang looking dude.

"Really? Cause I was thinking we could talk now!" he snapped before quickly making his way towards the other boy.

Since Vladamir was currently pinning the other boy down onto the ground, Percival stood taller then the other boy for the moment.

Percival came up behind the other and grabbed the other boy by his neck in a resemblance to a headlock. Helped by the fact that Vladamir's hands were slightly preoccupied at the moment.

He would then pull back as hard as he physically could in hopes of making the boy let go of the other.

"Get off of him!" he said as he tried to pull the boy off the other.

Action: If Selim is able to escape Vladamir, Percival will try to escape with him. If Selim is unable to escape Vladamir, Percival will try to drag Vladamir off of Selim through the method of a headlock.

Sta 6 | Eva 5 | Str 7 | Wis 4 | Arc 8 | Acc 5 |

Abilities: Foulplay

Interacting with: @Vladimir Athanatos @Selim Faust

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Leaving to gather possessions in changing room.

Casually, Zykeal watched on as the others around the pitch were fending off the hordes of mosps or other students. The ball had turned into chaos, which seemed typical for this school. It annoyed him to even being a student in the midst of such events that couldn't be handled properly. Ivy was off doing her own thing, his resentment was overwhelming towards her now, his face showed clearly his distaste for her lack of caring on his wellbeing anymore when he showed nothing but care for her own. Quite simply, it was of his newest opinion that he needed to keep his priorities and focus upon things that were clearly not human.

As he tapped the blunt wooden table leg that he had fetched before against the back wall of the quidditch pitch, his golden hues scanned the surroundings once more before his hues decided to roll. A slightly audible sigh escaped him as he then flipped the leg of the table onto the ground, there was no more point of him being here any longer. No one here interested him, none of them seemed to be working together to repel the greater threat and it seemed that the teachers would be here sooner rather than later with the noise levels carrying towards the castle itself.

Reaching for his ivory-colored aspen wood wand then, he once again did his habitual tendency and started to spin the wand between his fingers like a drumstick. For a moment, he thought about casting a spell aimed towards one of the students just to test his charms work that he'd been tiringly striving to perfect, but, he felt that keeping himself out of the situation would probably be best. There was the 'Cappy' there after all, but that kid seemed to be having a rough go of the situation regardless, so Zyk would let that one be for now.

A nod was given to himself then and he stepped forward and turned away, heading towards the changing room to fetch his belongings and bugger off.

Action: Leaving to the changing rooms.
Stamina: 6 | Evasion: 2 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 7 | ArcPower: 8 | Accuracy: 5

[/font]

Interacting with @Thomas Lestrange
Mentioning @Erin Ryan @Jack Burnett @Oliver Hart @Persephone Barret @Vladimir Athanatos @Selim Faust @Flash Holmwood @Willow Anderson

Standing behind a tiny wall of fire that filled him with a sense of disappointment, Ruka could feel every fibre of his body longing to just get out of there. Reasonably, there was nothing left for him here; He had made sure to do everything he could for Jack's safety, didn't have any binding ties to anybody else at this ball, had no real agenda of his own, and the exit was so close.

However, he had gotten himself into this mess now, had agreed to help out Funeral Boy with whatever his plans were, and he wasn't going to back out of that responsibility at the first sign of complications. In this case the complication came in the form of a flash of light from Erin's wand hitting Tommy through the mediocre flames, and the effects of the spell were immediate; Ruka had to sidestep the first wild flail of the other boy's legs as he started his camp fire dance as to not be kicked accidentally.

With his wand in hand, Ruka knew exactly what needed to be done to get themselves out of that situation, but just out of precaution he first cast one more glance at Erin and her companion, the boy who had deflected Ruka's first immobilising spell, but it seemed like they were getting ready to leave rather than pursuing more confrontation. It made Ruka roll his eyes; How childish to need to get the last word in before simply taking off rather than waiting for the potential backlash. If they were going to leave anyway couldn't Erin have refrained from getting a shot at Funeral Boy when he was clearly moving on from the situation already anyway?

Persephone, at least, seemed to have found her presence at the scene to not be of use to her own agenda anymore, because once her attack on Erin passed without any seeming damage done, she concluded her interaction with their group with some more parting words for Lestrange, apparently. Something about having to delay the business between them. Ruka was momentarily surprised that she hadn't taken the chance to take Funeral Boy for a Dance herself while he was already in the right state for it, but found himself simultaneously glad to not be having to deal with even more distractions that he couldn't even start to understand.

His attention refocused on the task at hand as Lestrange addressed him directly and by name this time, making him aware of the fact that he must have listened to at least part of his short conversation with Jack. Observant, then, that was an attribute he needed to remember about this boy. Observant and impulsive, judging by the physical fight he had gotten involved in as well as the way he had thrown that torch into a puddle of alcohol mere seconds ago. Maybe the impulsiveness was a side effect of being at least slightly intoxicated if not actually drunk, but Ruka would remember it anyway.

At least Tommy seemed to know the value of a strategic retreat and that was something Ruka could appreciate and was willing to help out with.

Getting as close to the other boy as possible without risking getting kicked somehow, Ruka pointed his wand at him and flicked his wrist in the proper movement. "Finite Incantatem," he murmured, before letting his gaze wander across the pitch regardless of whether the spell was successful or not. With the lights on it was easier to make out what was happening exactly, though Ruka had not much interest in most of the events.

Overgrown insects buzzing through the air and attacking students left and right was a horrible turn of the night, but Ruka couldn't bring up much concern for his peers; It wasn't his responsibility to make sure they didn't get themselves killed just because they didn't know how to handle themselves around a few giant bees.
A much more concerning thing was the fact that there seemed to be actual people on fire, which had been betrayed by the fact that there was a distinctly sweet smell of burning flesh wafting through the air like a barbecue in the making. While there had been candles all around the place, Ruka believed that the smell had started while the lights had been off already, and since his own torches had definitely not been the cause of all that pain and suffering, he couldn't help but wonder how such a thing could have possibly happened.

Having been exposed to fire his whole life long, Ruka was well aware of how quickly something or even someone could be set aflame without much effort at all, but for two people to be victim to the burning flames seemed almost ridiculously unlucky. Was it that someone had used an Incendio and failed miserably enough to end up potentially killing their fellow students or had it been a vicious attack?

As his eyes still searched the pitch for anything useful, Ruka listened to his new companion's words to defend the one person Flash had made out to be the night's big offender; Vladimir. Once again Ruka cursed his previous dance partner for not elaborating on everything that was going on. Less than an hour ago he was still under the impression that Vladimir was up to no good, would have bet anything that any turbulences of the night would have been caused by that boy himself, but what Lestrange was saying made sense to an almost painful degree; There seemed to be countless people targeting Vladimir and nobody who was bravely throwing themselves in the middle of whatever was going on over there to help him out.

Was it deserved?

A doubtful expression crossed Ruka's face as his eyes frantically searched for the one person who'd make him feel more at ease in the situation, and he momentarily felt glad that he had given him a torch to make him stick out of the crowd. Jack would have told him what was going on at length, in possibly far more detail than strictly necessary. He would have given him names and intentions and made sure he was prepared with enough background knowledge to make informed decisions when put in a situation like this.

If only they had been talking in the days leading up to the ball.

What had he gotten so far instead? Multiple names thrown at him that he had no idea what to do with, an espionage dance that led to virtually no information and a practical stranger as a new companion who was doing his best to destroy all the insight Ruka had managed to gain so far with just a few to the point words.

In a matter of seconds Ruka could see the night's events flash in front of him, remembered the way all those Slytherins had lingered around the pitch with purpose, could hear Vladimir asking Opeila how many of her friends were watching them, could see that girl spilling her drink all over Funeral Boy's Funeral Suit, could hear Willow crying out Flash's name as the pitch was drowned in darkness.

Observant, impulsive and strategic were the things Ruka had learned to associate with his new companion in the short time he had known him, and if he knew one thing it was that they could make a potentially dangerous person. Had it not been for Jack telling him to be a good influence on this boy who seemingly desperately needed one, Ruka would have turned his back on him immediately, would have gone after Jack instead to make sure he wasn't going to get himself killed, would have maybe even sought out Selim, who-

Selim, who was currently over there, rummaging through what seemed to be Vladimir's bag. Selim, who had seemingly stuck with Lestrange all night, who had not shown any signs of distrusting him at all, had followed him up until that physical altercation with Erin. If Selim was acting in accordance to what Lestrange wanted of him by going through Vladimir's stuff, but Lestrange was now insisting on Vladimir being the victim of the night...

Mind games were a skill everyone Ruka had been surrounding himself with for the past few months possessed to an almost absurd level, so he was no stranger to the methods used. The problem in this case was that he had no starting point from which to make his connections, didn't know anybody's intentions, had no clue what anybody's endgame was in the whole scenario. None of these people, aside from Jack, were people he really trusted, and Jack seemed to be busy... having some water, maybe? Uncapping a bottle filled with clear liquid, he seemed to be ready to pour it on anything that could possibly benefit from it.

So that was useless to Ruka's internal crisis.

Swallowing heavily, the Gryffindor turned back to his - potentially still dancing - partner and nodded with new-found conviction on his face. "You're right," he said confidently, readjusting the grip on his wand as he faced the direction Lestrange wanted to head towards. The target was Vladimir, one way or another, the potential casualties Ruka could make out and recognised; Selim, Flash and Willow.

He couldn't say there was much tying him to either of these people. He and Flash had a complicated relationship with each other, but certainly no genuine care. Willow, while nice and trying so hard, had impressed Ruka probably about as little as he had impressed her, and Selim...
Out of the three of them, Selim's health was the one Ruka was most interested in keeping in tact, but there were various ways to insure that, even if the Gryffindor hadn't been absolutely convinced that Selim was clad in armour and weapons galore.

"He does need help."

Should Tommy have ceased his camp fire dance, Ruka would quickly follow him towards the group he had just been observing, ready to be of assistance whichever way needed.

|Action|
Casting Finite Incantatem on Thomas
Observing people around the pitch

Reducio

Stats
Stamina: 7 ~ Evasion: 8 ~ Strength: 4 ~ Wisdom: 8 ~ Arcane Power: 6 ~ Accuracy: 7

Abilities
The Muggle Condition
Advanced Casting

Outfit Reference
Top

Reducio

Jeans

Reducio

Shoes

Reducio

Clenching her teeth in between her unheard cries for help, Maria quickly realized that she would have to save herself this time. Her unburnt hand blindly grasped around for her wand,quickly grabbing it when it felt the chestnut wood in her hand. With grit teeth she forced herself to stand and she took in the things going on around her.

Seriously, who’s bright idea was it to have a school full of 12-14 year olds without parental supervision?

Several fights were still going on, with kicking and hexing and jinxing each other. A couple of mosps had attacked students and a few students were nto fighting back. Two people were…kissing? Some students were attempting to capture an agitated mosp. There was now fire in several places, and there was also someone on fire. Several people were trying to put that person out. Smoke wafted into the hair and reached her nose.

Her mind was reeling at all the things her peers were doing, briefly wondering if their response to panic made them brave or just proved that many people in this school had no sense of self preservation.

But being the scared twelve year old child that she was her first response was quite different.

She quickly turned around and heaved onto the ground behind her, the Yoohoo she had previously consumed deciding to come up for Act 2. This stress response was quickly getting old, Maria decided. From her bag she took out a handkerchief and wiped her mouth with it, the sour taste still lingering. Heavy breathing followed, and as soon as she had barely composed herself she ran out of the Pitch. She needed to find somewhere safe and here wasn’t it. She would deal with her arm later, she concluded. Maybe the nice mediwitch would buy her story of spell practice gone wrong. Gathering her skirts, she headed for the entrance and took off.

Action: Attempting to leave the ball and head to the castle

Open to Interaction

He succeeded. Evelynn gaped. Woodward, the imbecile, had bloody well succeeded in his hair-brained scheme to entrap the dangerous creature. Yes, dangerous. With its massive size, lengthy proboscis and double stingers that looked more like jagged scimitars, there was a definite emphasis on its ability — and likelihood, given the way she could see from the corner of her eye it started to angrily buzz and thrash about in panic — to cause harm.

Eyes widened, sclera soon fully framing iris, as she stared forward in mixed disbelief and growing concern for her own safety. One mishap, a single ill-placed hand or loosening of grip, and that thing would tear straight through its meager encasing, sheathe one or both of its razor blades into the flesh of her chaperone, and then only God knows what would happen. The broom could lose control. Perhaps he'd fall. Maybe she'd be thrown off herself. Or worse, the creature would spark its appetite on her chaser's blood, only to turn to her to sate its wetted hunger.

"Why..." It was barely more than a whisper. An exhaled whine. A plea for some sort of rational explanation to something that seemed like such a foolishly impulsive action when the situation was already precarious enough as it was without inciting any further chaos. Fingers gripped tighter about the shaft of the broom, as though it alone could provide her with some sense of comfort. At the very least, she was still astride it. For now.

The movement of her temporary partner looking back at her broke her attempt to avoid looking forward. Slate met hazel as she and Woodward made eye contact. The dusky flush of his features was more than apparent by the flickering candlelight that had returned to hovering all about the pair, and it only served to give credence to that which she had sorely wished to ignore. Honestly. He looked ridiculous. Half-naked, awkwardly gripping a broom, and with a giant perturbed bug imprisoned in his arms.

"Well, it did," she retorted the obvious, fighting the creep of a blush across her own face now. "What are you thinking?!" She continued, brows pinching and speech returning to her as the immediate shock began to wane and the precariousness of the situation instilled within her a renewed abrasiveness courage. "Do you really think you're going to... what? Keep that...thing? Couldn't you have just left it alone?!" The hint of a whine had returned to her voice again as she spouted off a few more of her thoughts regarding this inane idea.

"Wait, what?" she blinked, the boy's words which had been uttered during her venting just now sinking in. "No!" she protested, leaning back a touch and taking a glance towards the activity still carrying on below. The sight of two flaming pillars made her stomach plummet. "We can't!" She insisted, eyes wide with plight. "Who cares about some aftermath?! Or that stupid bug! Can't you see someone's on fire?" A redundant question, really. If the sickening aroma of burning flesh and hair wafting up to them on the air currents rising with the heat of the candles weren't already enough of an indication to support the fact, the persistent shrieks of pain surely should have been. "We can't just leave them! Turn around! We have to help them!"

As the broom picked up speed, Evelynn's sense of guilt turned to something near panic. They were leaving. They were taking their escape with a stupid giant bug and literally leaving people to burn alive. Her breath hitched in her chest, breaths coming ragged. A hand pulled at the broom as though in an attempt to counter Woodward's steering, to turn them back about. They couldn't just abandon them. What would her mother think. Where were the professors?! Hadn't they seen the flares? There had been so many. Who cared about any aftermath at this point. This was an emergency. Consequences could come after. After people were safely tended to so that they could even receive the consequences in the first place.

But was there anything she could even do? Would staying help in any way or only add another body to the mess? Another student that could potentially require saving if things went awry? Was there not a small part in Evelynn's mind that noted that the flames had gone out — for that one brief moment — before bursting back into life anew? She hadn't saved Flash from the mosp attacking him. She hadn't put out the fire. She likely hadn't even gathered any useful information. Her presence at the ball had amounted to nothing. Hot tears stung her eyes as the reality sank in, as a sense of helplessness washed over her, as the pitch began to speed by.

Even still...
If at first you don't succeed, try, try again...
She had to try...

"Extinguo," she sobbed in resignation, casting at the direction of the one she hadn't attempted to douse previously.

STA 5(8) | EVA 8(11) | STR 2(5) | WIS 10(13) | ARC 2(5) | ACC 9(12) |
Keen Eye —There is a 25% chance of automatically finding something
Charming (Charlie's ability may apply) — -1 accuracy to enemies
Broom: Silver Arrow — +3 to all stats

Action: Protesting Charlie's actions (free speech), trapped to go where the Silver Arrow goes (movement), casts the Extinguishing Spell at Victor Moore (action)