Secret Blossom Ball Event Finished

The mosp drew closer and closer to the boy as he stood there for the picking, unable to properly defend himself against its power. Percy slowly gazed behind it and saw a boy, who was not too far away throw a table leg through the fog, hoping to distract the mosp for his escape. However, the bloated fly had other ideas. It quickly managed to strafe to the right and keep its focus on Percy, who almost looked up to it in certain defeat now "Shite..." he grunted out while bracing for a imminent attack. And sure enough, the mosp struck with all its might.

Percy gasped out from the impact of the stingers going deep into his chest, injecting more of the dangerous poison into his already weakened body. He looked down to see the twin stingers removed, forcing him to take a few steps forwards, before suddenly falling back into the table with a lost look in his eyes. His body slowly fell down to a sitting position, limbs limp from the amount of poison that had entered his system. Stupidity was reason he was in this situation, and now karma had come to claim his debt. Big red patches of blood were covering his right arm and chest, and the pain was getting to a point of unbearable proportions, all he could do was sit there and look up to the animal with a far away look in his eyes

His plan had been a failure, everything he did had been for nothing, and now he was at the mercy of an overweight fly looking for vengeance over the theft of his beautiful flowers. The fact that his breathing was laboured and his face was turning pale was also beginning to make him sick, sick to the fact that his last memory would be a mosp stabbing him to death. All things considered, it wasn't the worst possible way to go....

Action: Percy sits immobilised against a table and cant defend himself if another attack comes from mosp #21.

Interacting with: @May Moonstar @Janet Jackson

Ariana watched, helpless as May shouted out comments to people around her. Really, everything was going crazy. @Aaron Jones Aaron's legs had been forced into a jig, keeping him firmly planted in that spot without control.

Her cousin @Rafael D'Spacito was being incredibly stupid in her opinion, and she yearned to go slap some sense into Rafael's thick head. First leaving his date to go off and form a stupid plan and then throwing god knows what into the raging fire. Honestly. It was only until her green orbs found witness on him being sent rocketing onto the dance floor, that she temporarily forgot about her anger at him, a gasp escaping her lips as she clasped her palms to her mouth, sick with worry and shock.

At the moment though this was one of her lesser problems. She was distracted again by Janet, who needed water. A worried look etched upon her features, she took hold of her best friend's hand, and walked over to the tables, grabbing another glass desperately and pouring water into it, her hands shaking as she did so.

She turned back around, her eyes glued on the scene around her. It was terrifying, yet she couldn't look away. Her eyes landed upon her nearest companions again and she instinctively rushed forward, the pain in her ankle forgotten as she marched towards May, in an attempt to warn her.

The hufflepuff had turned, in preparation to cast the Verdimillious spell and Ariana shouted out at her, attempting to grasp the girls arm as the May aimed to shoot “May!” She yelled shrilly, her voice higher pitched than usual, “That is not an attacking spell!” She sounded panicky, only because she couldn't stand anyone else getting hurt further than they were. “Don't!” whether it was too late or not, she took her chance, grasping hold of the material, she yanked the arm that held Mays wand, away, in the opposite direction.

Action: Stupidly attempting to pull May away from the direction she was aiming in.
Stats || Stamina: 5 / Evasion: 5 / Strength: 8 / Wisdom: 2 / ArcPower: 2 / Accuracy: 9

Janet succeeded in getting @Ariana Walker Ariana’s attention and they ran over to the tables. Ariana arrived first and poured Janet a glass of water. She accepted it gratefully and was about to hand Ariana one as well (in case she had also been affected by the smoke) when she ran after @May Moonstar May to stop her from casting some spell or something.

“May! That is not an attacking spell!” Ariana shrieked.

The chaotic scene was beyond control now, people were screaming and throwing things and some seemed to have completely lost their sense. Janet gulped down her water and then choked down her discomfort wanting to do something to help. She didn’t seem to be in the best position to do anything useful however, so she gazed around the pitch helplessly.

She glanced over in the direction of Ariana and May, Ariana seemed to be dragging May’s arm away from whatever direction she was pointing her wand at. “Oh dear,” Janet thought; “that can’t end well...”

Her attention was caught by a boy @Percival Gray nearby leaning against a table, obviously immobilesed and unable to defend himself as a mosp flew towards him. Caught in the rush of the moment Janet didn’t have time for critical thinking, she picked up a chair running towards the tables and hurled it with all her strength (which, surprisingly, was quite a lot) at the mosp attacking him. She probably looked stupid chucking chairs around but now really wasn’t the time for thinking about that.

Action: Throwing a chair at mosp #21 to either direct it’s attention away from Percival or to weaken it

Stamina: 6
Evasion: 5
Strength: 10
Wisdom: 2
Arcane Power: 3
Accuracy:9

The second they took off, Vincent realized this would be a bumpy ride at best. He knew he wasn’t the best broom pilot to begin with, but the combination of smoke, smells, screams and flashing lights polluting the atmosphere surrounding them made this a mammoth task. He still felt he had no choice, though. Action had to be taken. Fast. If they would make it out unscathed – perhaps not harmed any further would be a better and more realistic target – it would be nothing short of a miracle. And even if they managed to beat the odds and make it out safely, the severity of Santario’s injuries could still prove to be… No, he wouldn’t allow himself to go down that path. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself. He could only hope she wasn’t so severely injured she wouldn’t fully recover… or even worse.

The sobering realization Santario might actually not recover at all sent shivers down Vincent’s spine. It couldn’t be – people couldn’t really die here, could they? Deep down though, Vincent knew they could. Really, all he had to do was look down at the pitch to disprove that idea. Of course people could actually die right here, right now. In fact, judging by the pandemonium down there it was quite likely some already had. He looked at Santario and what he observed caused his heart to skip a beat. Had she… had she turned even more pale? Was she even still breathing? Panic shortly overwhelmed Vincent, blurring his vision and – perhaps – his judgement. For a moment he was convinced his rescue mission had proven to be too little too late. Until he saw her breathe. Waves of reassurance engulfed Vincent seeing she was still alive. If anything they still had a fighting chance to make it out alive.

His high set hopes were destroyed in an instant as the broom suddenly and, for as far as Vincent could determine, for no apparent reason started to tilt. Not just a little, no, an extremely worrying lot. The angle grew so steep, Santario, who was obviously too weak to be able to grab hold of the broomstick with enough force to remain in place, started to slide off. Vincent, recognizing the danger, tried to stop her, but the harsh laws of physics were unforgiving, gravity simply was way too strong for the young lad. Slowly at first, inch by inch, Santario slid further, with Vincent, who was still tied to her with the strap of the camera bag, fighting in an ultimate attempt to try and keep her, and himself as well for that matter, from actually falling off the broom. As Santario’s body gained momentum the slow slide rapidly turned into a freefall, and Vincent knew he was fighting a lost battle. There was no way he could have kept himself in position on a broom tilted in this angle, let alone the two of them. Once the full force of that realization had hit him, he resignedly surrendered to the inevitable fall. He released the broomstick and wrapped both his arms around Santario in an effort to protect the already gravely injured girl from the impact as he reconciled himself with his fate and allowed himself to silently drop to the ground beneath. He knew he had failed. Himself, but above all Santario. Miserably. With gritted teeth he awaited the end of his fall.

They say when you’re in mortal danger, time seems to slow down and you see all noteworthy events of your life pass by. Vincent now firsthand found out that wasn’t true. Time didn’t slow down and the fall didn’t take long at all, in fact it seemed innocent and insignificant enough. The impact of his body hitting the ground however, was massive and as was the pain accompanying it. Though the unmistakable sickening thud of a limp body heavily colliding with the earth below was hardly audible in the cacophony of noise that filled the terror-stricken stadium, if at all even, that in no way mitigated its effects on Vincent – and Santino alike he assumed – making it perhaps even all the more dramatic. For a few seconds Vincent, who had landed flat out on the grass, a blow that had violently knocked the wind out of him, wasn’t able to move or feel a thing. Until the moment he took a breath to replenish the air in his lungs wiped away that relative state of peaceful ignorance.

As he took his first breath after the fall had so abruptly ended, he felt his body explode in blinding pain as the shock that caused his body to temporarily shut down subsided and his brain restarted. It’s first cruel action was to immediately consciously register the physical effect of the involuntary introduction to the trampled, rather sandy lawn of the Quidditch pitch that, despite looking it, wasn’t soft at all. On the contrary even. Vincent felt every inch of his body hurt furiously, a feeling that seemed to intensify tenfold with each second passing. Nevertheless the worst was yet to come, as the next thing his brain registered was the reason he had fallen in the first place. Santario!

Vincent grunted at the burning pain as he tried to turn his head towards where he assumed Santario had landed. Even this slight movement sent electric shocks down his spine and caused flashes of light to blur his vision. It took almost ten seconds for the pain and the flashes to subside enough for him to be able to focus clearly. He discerned a body right next to him and before he could make out any details, he knew instinctively that it could be none other than Santario lying there. With an extreme effort Vincent straightened up on one arm, trying to ignore the excruciating pain this shot through his entire body. He couldn’t. He couldn’t keep himself from groaning loudly as he tried to check up on Santario, who had her eyes open, but seemed to stare into oblivion and otherwise showed worryingly little signs of life. Vincent feared the worst – again – but was reassured – again – as he saw her chest expand ever so slightly. At least she was breathing.

As he tried to get upright, Vincent scolded himself for being so reckless, which helped him ignore part of the pain and endure the rest of it. He considered the pain a well-deserved punishment. What was he thinking trying to fly off with a semi-conscious girl and a camera bag on a broom, knowing he wasn’t even sufficiently experienced in flying solo? Though he wasn’t sure what exactly had caused the broom to turn turtle, he was the one flying it, so he was responsible. Regardless the cause. He was responsible for Santario falling and ending up in this serious condition. That compelled him to try and make things right. If he could. If it wasn’t too late. However, having learned from his mistakes, he knew there wasn’t much he could do at the moment. With his body aching as if it had been crushed between concrete slabs and Santario clearly not capable of moving there was no way he could get her out of here.

Vincent quickly scanned the surroundings, immediately paying the painful price for not doing so slowly, to assess the situation. What he saw filled him with desperation and disbelief. The pitch had turned into an inferno and a battlefield in one. Thick smoke filled the stadium, obscuring the view of various fires that either had broken out spontaneously or had been started by young wizards casting spells. He saw people, peers, housemates, all running around in a blind panic, frantically trying to evade the still roaming creatures and the fires at the same time, while desperately seeking a way out of this hell. There was little hope on help it seemed.

Despite the pain, that had only slightly subsided, he took of his jacket, that was still in surprisingly good condition given the circumstances, rolled it into a bundle and turned to Santario. He carefully lifted her head a little and slid the jacket under her head by means of a pillow. He then sat down next to her. Noticing the wound on her chest was still bleeding and Santario was clearly not able to do so herself, he put his hand on the wound and applied just enough pressure to reduce the bleeding profusely flowing to a trickle. He then called out for help, not knowing if anyone could hear them or, perhaps even more important, be able to help them. He could very well imagine people had more than enough to attend to themselves as it seemed everyone atill here was in some sort of trouble. As he awaited any reaction, he briefly looked at Santario before getting back to scan the surroundings to anticipate any hostile movement, or any friendly movement for that matter. She looked so fragile right now. Guilt fought with fear and shame over domination of his mind as he started talking to the unlucky girl. “Santario, I don’t know if you can hear me, but… I… wow... I don’t know what to say… I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. Honestly” Vincent swallowed loudly, knowing nothing he would say made this any easier for her. “I know I cannot make this right, but… but… I’ll stay with you.” His voice almost broke. “No matter what… I’ll stay with you.”

Interacting with: @Jack Burnett, @Vincent d'Arque, and @Santario Martin
Mentions: Kateri Karr, Cypresse Lian, Vladimir Athanatos, Marion Davenport, Victor Moore, Rafael D'Spacito, Arlo Reynolds, Flash Holmwood, Opeila Seilun, Thomas Lestrange, Thora Larkston, and Tyranni Whitethorn

Success. Thanks to Jack splashing water on the surrounding flames and her levitation charm, the bag was saved from incineration. The rest of the flames were soon put out by several casters, one of which was... a Professor? Thank goodness. There--the new Flying Professor. She'd cast Extinguo. And their Transfiguration Professor had transmuted the remaining flames into a rather large, somewhat terrifying snake. Why was it that creatures and bugs people were naturally wary of always had to come extra-large at Hogwarts? Well, best to just skirt around the slithering creature. It would probably leave her alone, but Bridget would rather not risk anything.

Now that she'd saved the bag, what would she do with it? As curious as she was to the contents, this was Victor's bag. Not Vladimir's. Sure, Marion and Victor were somehow connected to all of this, but they seemed more like unwitting pawns. It was Vladimir she thought was dangerous, involved. And with all the chaos, could she take the time needed to rummage through it? Would having it in her possession make her a target? In comparison to everything else going on and the plethora of injuries with varying degrees of severity, it seemed like her curiosity would have to wait.

She couldn't just leave the bag where it was, though, could she? Someone would come and take it and then she'd never know what was inside. Or, alternatively, some idiot would get it into their head to finish what the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain had started and destroy it. But if Jack Burnett was the one to look through it, she might get filled in on what it held later. They were working together, were they not? Still, he had been doing mostly his own thing so far. Could she trust him to share? Who else could she even give it to? Bridget had seen how heavy the bag was--Marion and Arlo's combined efforts could only drag it and she wasn't much stronger. Flash was too far away, not that she could necessarily count on him either, Opeila was busy with Vladimir, Thomas was absolutely not trustworthy, and Tyranni... Tyranni was kissing Thomas. What the heck? No time for puzzling over why she was doing that. Maybe she could get Thora's attention, but chances were her friend would be too busy helping out with everything else...

Jack Burnett it was. "If you're going to look through it," she addressed the redhead, "you tell me what you find. Later, obviously. If you don't, I don't care how good your Immobulus Charm is," it was pretty effective, she'd seen it in action, "you will regret not telling me." Maybe threatening him wasn't the best way to go, but right now it was all she had. She didn't even know if Jack would stick around to dig through the bag, but she wasn't going to waste her time checking. After gently easing off her levitation of the bag so it landed safely on the ground, she walked away.

So, where was her help needed now? There was a lot going on, but one thing in particular caught her eye. Two people tumbling off a broom and to the ground. It wasn't the worst thing that could happen to you--people fell from much higher in Quidditch all the time--but it wasn't good either. Plus, one of the people who'd fallen hadn't moved and the other was calling for help...

In an instant, Bridget was running towards the fallen pair. Upon arrival, she identified the girl, the one who hadn't moved, as Santario. She didn't know the boy; he was probably a first year. Thankfully, Santario's chest was rising and falling and her eyes were open. Great, she wasn't dead. That didn't mean she wasn't in a bad shape. As if falling off a broom wasn't bad enough, the girl had been skewered through the chest by one of the over-sized bees. What had she predicted earlier? If someone was going to be impaled this time around, it would be by half-foot stingers... The boy seemed to be trying to put pressure on the wound, stop her from bleeding out, but Santario needed the Hospital Wing.

Walking wasn't an option. Santario looked rather dazed, and that fall must have hurt. Nearby lay the camera she'd been using to snap pictures of the students and their outfits before everything went downhill. "Reparo," she muttered. Fixing broken objects was far from her priority at the moment, but it didn't look like Santario had noticed her ruined camera yet. The poor girl didn't need to deal with a broken possession on top of everything else. Now, though, she needed to get her out of there. Bridget wasn't ready to leave. There was still too much going on. Still, no one else was coming over to help. The boy with her clearly couldn't fly Santario out, not safely anyways. But she could. Bridget was a Quidditch player. Her flying skills were on-point and she'd had experience with carrying barely conscious people before after they'd been knocked off their brooms. She could do this. And despite not wanting to leave, Santario had once been her teammate and even now she was one of her younger housemates. That left her with some amount of responsibility to make sure she didn't die, right?

Bridget fixed her eyes on the boy, all seriousness. "I can get her out of here." She straddled her Nimbus 1700, feet still firmly on the ground. Apparently carrying it around all night was worth the effort. "Look, I just need you to help her on. I can fly us both back to the castle. I won't drop her, I've got plenty of flying experience. I get if this is your friend you might not want to risk it, but you can trust me. Please." The truth was, she needed this boy's help. She couldn't mount her broom and pull Santario on with her.

Assuming he helped, Bridget would give him a grim smile. "Take her camera and get yourself out of here. If you can, help one of the other injured students out. Don't get stung." Bridget now gave all her focus to flying. She wasn't going to rush this and perform two actions in one round, so for now she just needed to keep Santario on her broom, make sure she wouldn't fall off once they took off, and check that their path out of the Pitch was clear. "Hold on, Santario. I'm going to get you to the Hospital Wing. Just... try not to fall off."

Free Actions | Gently setting Victor's bag down (ending levitation), mounting broom
Action | Casting Reparo on Santario's camera bag
Note: By mounting a broom, I mean Bridget is sitting on it, preparing to fly, but still on the ground
Stamina: 5 | Evasion: 9 | Strength: 3 | Wisdom: 9 | Arcane Power: 7 | Accuracy: 8
Sixth Sense | Evasive Maneuvers
Outfit | Broom: Nimbus 1700

Vladimir seemed unfussed by his dancing feet. Certainly it was an annoyance but it did not deter him from his task. In fact, it just made the spectacle more apparent. A victim also. Out-numbered, endangered. He was not the sort to back-down, both due to hubris as well as the fact that he did not have to. He could handle a few reckless underclassmen and their ill-considered means of attack. Their betrayal and their violence ultimately a boon. When the Professors arrive and they complain that he bullied so many -- yes, the single boy targeted all these teens. They rightfully stole his property. Let Victor burn. He wondered if Marion would be conscious by the end of this ordeal. Probably not, she was a fragile little thing. Score.

He would try to 'save' Marion all the same. Launch Anastasia off of her only to hit some girl he never met (@Astrea Soleil Neptune). The notion of using a silver platter to... protect? Reflect... spells? Did she think that this was the story of Perseus? Had magic been something that could be something that could be reflected or blocked by something shiny, wizarding attire would be very different than it presently was. "Rob me and my friends and still depend on pawns to protect you from the consequences," he announced. Did the girl even care about his target? Who knew. Perhaps she sought to be relevant. At this point one would be a sadist or a fool to think that he was the fiend in this scenario, yet here they were. She would be knocked backwards and hit the ground. Perhaps she would have the good sense to stay there.

Marion would avoid Anastasia's assault only to have her flanked by his date. Of course he was well-aware that she was a traitorous, treacherous witch. that was the whole point, to play on her insecurities and her need to... well, let's just call it a want that became a need as well as a fatal flaw he could easily play again and again.

@Ivy Bellamy, a random irrelevant had decided that the guy being assailed on all sides, getting his property stolen would be a target of her ire. A goblet to the head, she would have been a dead woman had he valued her defeat or intervention. Sadly, he did not care about either, but he did care about the Slytherin that came to his side. @Thomas Lestrange wrangled the goblets from her hands, but the momentum was there and Ivy ended up slapping Vlad instead, dealing 75 damage. He would feel the sting, but his eyes were not on her. On the girl that would more likely injure herself thinking or sneezing. No, on the white knight that was harassing his girl and dancing with his guy. Yeah, he saw him but he had also seen him before. Not that Thomas would know that he has had his eye on Aunt Petunia's favorite. He had been wanting to meet the boy for some time. "My hero," he quipped as he looked over at Victor. It looked as if some of his peers finally got their shit together and were going to try and not kill him. No promises of course, one of them tried to perform CPR on the krispy boy.

"Finish her before she turns on you," he warned. Unless the Slytherin was squeamish putting a little girl in her place. He was going to finish Ana off, their action economy was at this point both comical and embarrassing.

Vladimir attempts to blast Anastasia Beckett with the knockback charm.

Stats:
Human 50 total stat points
STA 10 • EVA 10 • STR 10 • WIS 5 • ARC 5 • ACC 10
Abilities: Not telling yet.

#Worst first date ever.

Somehow he had not yet died. He was breathing, the CPR did not save him but perhaps the girl that finally decided to try had decided as his life was about to live to start living hers. To stop being a witness, someone standing on the sidelines. For the better or the worst, being an active participant in her life. To make a difference. Mistakes happen sure, but people, places and things are grossly relevant. They are worth it.

They say that your sense of hearing is the last thing to go. It is a partial truth, despite the darkness he could hear the noise. The screaming and the running. The chaos he could only imagine there in the void. He was not worried despite all of the noise, he did not think anyone was there to save him and oddly enough he did not care. There was this strange numbness that permeated his nature. This indifference. He wondered if this was nature's kindness, at the end not being scared or in pain. A part of him even saying 'this might not be so bad.' But he was going to miss them, well not most of them. People were mean and scary. They took and used their power to force their will. He did not like that in people and he saw it in a lot of people. Might makes right, but it does not mean that they are not wrong.

Actions: Nothing

Victor was dying. It felt like a quarter of her school had converged on Vladimir but he was somehow holding his own. She was scared for them, for a moment she forgot that she was scared also for herself. They were not going to stop, perhaps until they were severely injured or perhaps even dead. Why? Because they knew something, made a bunch of presumptions and decided that their secrets were now theirs to know. She had no right. Nothing was hers.

She had been warned but she was selfish. She wanted everything. She wanted to be free. To have a normal experience. This, all of this, was proof positive that she was never going to be happy or normal. That it was just going to hurt. That they don't care, they will just take until she has nothing left.

She saw @Thomas Lestrange approach Vladimir. She would call out to him, "get away from him. That Slytherin is crazy!" She was referring to Thomas, the guy who threatened to push her from the Owlery for the sake of 'science.' Thomas had dragged Victor off for a dance after he harassed her and Arlo earlier this evening. He had an uncanny interest in the three of them. he made her skin crawl and more specifically she was terrified of him. She felt, and she was not entirely wrong, that he was dangerous. That he meant his threat even if he had not intended to push her that day, that he would have if he could and if it would have served ultimately as a boon.

@Tyranni Whitethorn would plant a kiss of Thomas. She had no idea that they were a thing, made sense not that her thoughts lingered on their romance. It merely reinforced her notion that they should not be trusted. She would have tried to knock her or Thomas away from Vladimir, save him from whatever terrible things they planned to do but would would be knocked back. She would land on the hard ground, hitting her back. Like an electric shock of pain, she would linger on the ground. Mildly disoriented, her fragile frame swayed as she rose to her her feet and she pointed her wand at the girl who knocked her down. @Opeila Seilun, Vladimir's date. Not that he ever mentioned her before. Not that she expected him to. Not that it was any of her business. She was getting into her own head. The girl meant him and her harm, something she proved when she rose her wand against Vladimir and tried to strike him just before. No, she did not trust her. She had every reason not to.

One wrong deed deserves another.

Actions: Cast Flipendo at Opeila, aiming her towards Tyrrani if possible.

Race: Human
Abilities: A secret
Stats: STAMINA: 2 EVASION: 8 STRENGTH: 0 WISDOM: 10 ARCANE POWER: 10
ACCURACY: 15

There wasn't much Vincent could do now but wait, comfort Santario and take in the gruesome scenery surrounding them. Once the true extent of the chaos had reached his consciousness once again, the disbelief and horror that had been pushed to the back of his mind for a while, came back with a vengeance. There was something going on just about everywhere and the involvement of the creatures didn't seem to be the only cause for this. Vincent shrugged. There was no point in trying to analyze, let alone fully fathom the entire situation, that would undoubtedly be a task that fell to the professors, inevitably leading to punishments being handed out. Vincent shrugged once more. That was not exactly his priority right now. Full well knowing he wasn't armed and unable to walk away he realized only safety was. He silently made a wish to remain save from the foul creatures. At whom his unspoken plea was aimed he didn't even know, but that wasn't relevant anyway. All he now wanted was to simply avoid getting into more trouble - he had enough trouble as it was - and, hopefully, get help for Santario.

Noticing the initial flaming pain had subsided and now turned into a continuous throbbing that was best classified as annoying rather than painful, he carefully flexed his arms and legs. The movement didn't inflict more pain, it seemed the excruciating pain caused by the impact itself had been merely temporarily. Vincent didn't complain. At least now he could move again, with relative ease and pretty much free from any incapacitating pain. He would still be pretty sore tomorrow, but from the looks of it he got lucky.

Now that his physical condition was no longer a problem, Vincent could focus on another, equally pressing matter, which was getting to safety with Santino. Vincent considered his options and concluded, given the fact he had no one near to lend a helping hand at the moment, there were shockingly little. In fact, without any help there was no way he could get the both of them into safety. If it would have been just himself he perhaps could have found a way, but it wasn't and leaving Santario behind didn't even come close to being an option. Not just because he got her into this mess to begin with, despite the fact he still had no idea what it exactly was that had caused the broom to tilt so suddenly and violently, but, perhaps even more so, because he wasn't the type to bail out when there was trouble, let alone leave anyone behind. Especially when that anyone was defenseless.

So just sitting there, waiting for any and all help seemed to be Vincent's mandatory motto for now. That plus trying to provide Santario with all she might need. So that's what he did, deviding his attention between Santario and their surroundings. Until, not for long, he saw a human silhouette emerge from the thick, almost suffocating smoke. Someone was there, definitely heading towards them. Judging by the size it wasn't one of the professors, so it could only be a fellow student. Help seemed to be near.

As the yet unknown savior came closer, Vincent could make out more detail with every step. He saw the outline of a broom, the sight of which gave him mixed feelings of both fear and relief. Then he saw the person approaching was a girl. She was not too tall, slim build, with dark brown hair. The smoke prohibited him from making out more detail, but Vincent was convinced he didn't know her, although she seemed vaguely familiar. Her overall appearance didn't ring any bells of recognition though, so he had probably only seen her somewhere before, perhaps even tonight. Either way, she was definitely one he had not gotten the opportunity to get acquinted with yet.

Upon arrival the girl seemed to assess the situation quickly, first and foremost aiming her attention at Santario. Next she shifted her focus to the camera bag, casting a reparo spell at its contents. Apparently the camera had been damaged in the fall. Vincent had completely ignored the camera bag, as he felt their safety and wellbeing was more important at the time, but now he recalled the almost obsessive focus Santario had displayed as she had kept emphasizing she wasn't going anywhere without it. Vincent thought all this attention for a camera, as much as he understood how important it could be to someone, to be rather odd, raising his suspicion there was more to it, but he decided now was not the time to pursue this. Perhaps not at all even, after all it was none of his business.

And then, finally, the girl addressed him, telling him she could get Santario out of here. His hesitation was apparently clearly visible as the girl went on assuring him that, if he could help her get Santario on the broom, she was to be trusted to get her to safety. Despite the hesitation he still felt, knowing remaining here would put Santario in a more precarious and hazardous situation, so he reluctantly decided to agree. "Yeah, I can do that." he said to the girl, at which she gave him a grim smile in reply.

"Take her camera and get yourself out of here. If you can, help one of the other injured students out. Don't get stung."

Vincent heard the girl speak the instructions as he carefully lifted Santario's limp body securely on the broom so she could be safely flown out. Not feeling the need to discuss this any further he limited himself to a simple nod.

Katrina was beginning to feel overwhelmed. The adrenaline was running off, and her senses where getting less and less acute. She couldn’t live on the moment anymore, she needed to plan and prepare and regroup, but there wasn’t time for that anymore. Katrina pushed down tears that filled her eyes, as the immense pain flooded every nerve in her body.

The mosp, instead of following the flowers she threw, turned it’s horrible penetrating eyes to her. The one thing Katrina wished was different, would be that it made a screech or a war cry or something, instead of simply turning it’s head with fury and zooming towards her. She was trapped, the fear from last time overcoming her need to defend herself. The stingers were off, and Katrina survived without a scratch.

The boy @Dale Kurt had done nothing. Katrina wanted to shove him out of the way or at least drag him under a table, but there wasn’t much time. The second year gritted her teeth, suddenly realizing that her left ear wasn’t hearing anything. Her hand went up to touch it a third time, and blood still coated her hand. Why wasn’t it done bleeding yet? Was there poison in the sting? It was certainly swelling.

Her mind was starting to fog, making decisions slow and not clear. Katrina grabbed a chair, mimicking another few people she saw when she turned. Katrina set it down, indecision clouding her idea. Should she attack the bug? She knew that it wasn’t going to leave her alone, but she still wanted to protect the boy who was the whole reason she had put herself in mortal danger.

“Get under the table, idiot,” Katrina growled, shoving the boy in the space between where the chair had been if he didn’t go himself. The Gryffindor, once he was under, shoved the chair back in, keeping him in a somewhat safe spot. Once the mosp was killed, she would probably get him back out. The mosp! She had completely forgot!

Katrina turned back to the mosp, fear in her eyes. She had been so ready to Flipendo it before, but now, doubt was distracting her. What if she missed and it hit a student? Her hand was shaking so bad that she wouldn’t trust a wand in it.

Fear. Such a peculiar thing. Katrina felt fear, and a whole host of other crippling emotions at the moment. Her ear continued to throb, and it was all she wanted to curl up into a ball and clean it out. Her back was also throbbing from when she fell right after she’d been stung. Her pricked finger from the flaming roses, still throbbed the tiniest bit. Her head hadn’t stopped spinning and her hand was shaking. The smoke was clinging to her every breath and it was all she could do not to cough.

Katrina took a moment to take everything in. The technique was one she used to ward off panic attacks, but this time, it was only overwhelming her more. She could see the mosp, and the tables around her, the lights were back on, there were a few dead mosps, there were flowers along the edge of the pitch and a few students facing their own battles. Katrina could hear a ringing in her left ear, the screams and sobs of tortured students, the angry buzzing of the mosps, her shaky breaths in her clogged ear and the sound of brooms behind her. Katrina could feel overwhelming pain, her heartbeat in each part of her that was hurting, her shakiness, the ground under her feet and the wind from the bug’s wings. Katrina could smell burning students, smoke, smoke, and nothing else. The only thing she could taste was blood, the tang and iron taste of her own blood. Why could she taste that? There was no time to focus on anything else.

There was a mosp to kill.

Open to Interactions
Action: Shoving Dale under table
Passive Action: Taking in everything and feeling overwhelmed
Abilities: Healing Sage, Perfectionist
Stats: Sta, 6 Evas, 8 Str, 3 Wis, 9 ArcP, 9 Acc, 5
Interacting With: Dale