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**Jesus Rodriguez** · 05-23-2017, 05:05 AM

As he trekked deeper into the forest, Jesús was plagued by several questions. How long had he been walking? Was he actually walking in a linear direction or had he been turned around at some point due to the fog? Was there even someone out there? Was it his imagination (his fear, really,) playing tricks on him? They hit him over and over until he forced himself to acknowledge that he was grasping at straws until he had a clear and concise idea of what was going on.

This, he felt, was another strike against Hawk-eyes Hawthorne. Moxley, he more or less expected the lack of assistance and information, but Hawk-eyes was clearly more level-headed and rational (which made her that much more dangerous, in his opinion.) A part of him (it was a large, nagging part,) believed that the competition was a red-herring for something deeper and more sinister at play. And at that moment, it wasn't the temperature of the forest that chilled him, but the realization that he might have actually stumbled upon something worth investigating.

However revved up he was about finding another metaphorical piece to this great puzzle, he needed to focus on the task at hand. His main priority was figuring out how to safely navigate through the forest, and to maybe, possibly (it wasn't a strong desire of his) see if the scream came from someone who was still alive, or someone who screamed their very last breath. Choices. Jesús was tired of the fog (he could only handle so many distractions at a time,) and figured if he somehow cleared a bit of it, he'd be able to see better. If he had to gauge his distance, he'd say that he was coming up on some kind of clearing; the ground didn't feel nearly as cluttered with branches, rocks, and the like as before, and the fog didn't feel as thick.

Or, and the rebuttal came to him instantaneously, he probably was just acclimating to his environment.

Still, Jesús made the decision to continue with his plan of thinning out the fog. And although he constantly struggled with focusing on mundane, everyday tasks, he found himself gathering the mental strength to keep up his focus for as long as he could. Quietly, he muttered Ventus Duo, and braced himself for the wind that came promptly. If this were another time (and the imminent fear of his possible demise wasn't causing his hands to shake, and his palms to perspire,) then he would've gladly taken on the idea of an adventure through the dark forest. At least, then, he would've been well-stocked on important items to help keep him alive, and he wouldn't have the nagging feeling that a certain Headmistress was really trying to eliminate the competitors, literally, one by one.

As the fog dissipated, Jesús looked around, saw that there was a bit of light filtering through the knotted branches along the taller, more ominous trees, and allowed himself to adjust to the change in the atmosphere. When his eyes drifted downwards, he suddenly understood that the situation was even more dire than he originally thought. The man that was shaking was the least of his concern as he was currently fixated on the creature (or, if he was completely honest, a monster,) who was bent over as if readying itself for a second-helping. Maybe it was forest, maybe it was his fears playing against his rationality, or maybe it was the actual creature in front of him, but Jesús was immobilized. Or, felt so, anyway.

Swallowing hard, he tried to calm himself, even took deep breaths, but found that as the seconds passed, an overwhelming wave of anxiety passed over him completely. It choked him, causing Jesús to take a step back, before he rooted himself firmly in his current spot. The thought that he could possibly just leave the man (he didn't know who he was or why he was there,) did cross his mind, but the better part of him felt that it would've been unnecessarily cruel. Even for him. He made several attempts to keep a solid grip on his wand, felt his fingers go slack more than a few times, but he refused to let it drop. And in a true dramatic, literary fashion, his heart beat rather loudly and he doubled-over, briefly, to catch his breath again.

There was too much riding on this for him to just give up during the first challenge, and he reminded himself that despite what he felt, the professors and other staff members from both schools would not let the competitors die, right? He hoped so. And with that in mind, he straightened himself upright and took another look at the creature. He needed a clear mind, or else he might as well offer himself off to the creature before him (which, he had a strong hunch that it was dementor, or a very impressive and realistic illusion,) and lose his life tragically without having told his story properly. He knew that it probably wouldn't amount to much, but he had to try; he also knew that he wasn't entirely sure what the creature was (he had a working hypothesis, but what good was that if it turned out to be an incorrect assumption?) Which was why he mustered up all of the remaining confidence he had within him, to focus on ensuring that he motioned his wand correctly, and pointed his wand at the hooded creature.

"Flipendo Trio," he said in a loud, albeit shaky, voice. He would rather attempt to push the thing back than foolishly cast a lackluster patronus charm (something he wasn't even entirely sure he could cast correctly,) and leave himself vulnerable to an attack. And, because his conscience would never let him live it down should the quivering man not survive, he diverted his attention to the man and shouted, "Mobilicorpus!" in the hopes that he could at least move him far enough away, so that Jesús could deal with the creature without the worry of the man's safety looming in the back of his mind.

05-23-2017, 05:05 AM	#6 (permalink)
Jesus Rodriguez Thunderbird Puffskein Join Date: May 2017 Posts: 1,079 Hogwarts RPG Name: Jesús Rodríguez Sixth Year	As he trekked deeper into the forest, Jesús was plagued by several questions. How long had he been walking? Was he actually walking in a linear direction or had he been turned around at some point due to the fog? Was there even someone out there? Was it his imagination (his fear, really,) playing tricks on him? They hit him over and over until he forced himself to acknowledge that he was grasping at straws until he had a clear and concise idea of what was going on. This, he felt, was another strike against Hawk-eyes Hawthorne. Moxley, he more or less expected the lack of assistance and information, but Hawk-eyes was clearly more level-headed and rational (which made her that much more dangerous, in his opinion.) A part of him (it was a large, nagging part,) believed that the competition was a red-herring for something deeper and more sinister at play. And at that moment, it wasn't the temperature of the forest that chilled him, but the realization that he might have actually stumbled upon something worth investigating. However revved up he was about finding another metaphorical piece to this great puzzle, he needed to focus on the task at hand. His main priority was figuring out how to safely navigate through the forest, and to maybe, possibly (it wasn't a strong desire of his) see if the scream came from someone who was still alive, or someone who screamed their very last breath. Choices. Jesús was tired of the fog (he could only handle so many distractions at a time,) and figured if he somehow cleared a bit of it, he'd be able to see better. If he had to gauge his distance, he'd say that he was coming up on some kind of clearing; the ground didn't feel nearly as cluttered with branches, rocks, and the like as before, and the fog didn't feel as thick. Or, and the rebuttal came to him instantaneously, he probably was just acclimating to his environment. Still, Jesús made the decision to continue with his plan of thinning out the fog. And although he constantly struggled with focusing on mundane, everyday tasks, he found himself gathering the mental strength to keep up his focus for as long as he could. Quietly, he muttered Ventus Duo, and braced himself for the wind that came promptly. If this were another time (and the imminent fear of his possible demise wasn't causing his hands to shake, and his palms to perspire,) then he would've gladly taken on the idea of an adventure through the dark forest. At least, then, he would've been well-stocked on important items to help keep him alive, and he wouldn't have the nagging feeling that a certain Headmistress was really trying to eliminate the competitors, literally, one by one. As the fog dissipated, Jesús looked around, saw that there was a bit of light filtering through the knotted branches along the taller, more ominous trees, and allowed himself to adjust to the change in the atmosphere. When his eyes drifted downwards, he suddenly understood that the situation was even more dire than he originally thought. The man that was shaking was the least of his concern as he was currently fixated on the creature (or, if he was completely honest, a monster,) who was bent over as if readying itself for a second-helping. Maybe it was forest, maybe it was his fears playing against his rationality, or maybe it was the actual creature in front of him, but Jesús was immobilized. Or, felt so, anyway. Swallowing hard, he tried to calm himself, even took deep breaths, but found that as the seconds passed, an overwhelming wave of anxiety passed over him completely. It choked him, causing Jesús to take a step back, before he rooted himself firmly in his current spot. The thought that he could possibly just leave the man (he didn't know who he was or why he was there,) did cross his mind, but the better part of him felt that it would've been unnecessarily cruel. Even for him. He made several attempts to keep a solid grip on his wand, felt his fingers go slack more than a few times, but he refused to let it drop. And in a true dramatic, literary fashion, his heart beat rather loudly and he doubled-over, briefly, to catch his breath again. There was too much riding on this for him to just give up during the first challenge, and he reminded himself that despite what he felt, the professors and other staff members from both schools would not let the competitors die, right? He hoped so. And with that in mind, he straightened himself upright and took another look at the creature. He needed a clear mind, or else he might as well offer himself off to the creature before him (which, he had a strong hunch that it was dementor, or a very impressive and realistic illusion,) and lose his life tragically without having told his story properly. He knew that it probably wouldn't amount to much, but he had to try; he also knew that he wasn't entirely sure what the creature was (he had a working hypothesis, but what good was that if it turned out to be an incorrect assumption?) Which was why he mustered up all of the remaining confidence he had within him, to focus on ensuring that he motioned his wand correctly, and pointed his wand at the hooded creature. "Flipendo Trio," he said in a loud, albeit shaky, voice. He would rather attempt to push the thing back than foolishly cast a lackluster patronus charm (something he wasn't even entirely sure he could cast correctly,) and leave himself vulnerable to an attack. And, because his conscience would never let him live it down should the quivering man not survive, he diverted his attention to the man and shouted, "Mobilicorpus!" in the hopes that he could at least move him far enough away, so that Jesús could deal with the creature without the worry of the man's safety looming in the back of his mind. __________________ Coming soon.