Penwick

Traditionally, Penwick classes weren't quite so… Socratic in nature. It wasn't quite a revolt that had broken out in the classroom, not by even the most liberal of margins, but the little volley of quips currently being flung about, not unlike toes dipped at the edge of water to test the temperature, would likely never have occurred in the class of a more tenured professor. She wondered if her classmates were similarly sizing up their new Professor for their own purposes, or if this year's batch of transfers had been a delivery of kerosene to their kindling.

Enid blinked placidly at Kasimir, though the slight downward tilt at the corner of her mouth betrayed her irritation. "Kasimir, while I do so appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule of grumbling and sulking to join me in class today, if childish name-calling is all you have to contribute to our discussion, then perhaps you're best off ditching this one, too."

June, it seemed, had her own Greek chorus, which was cute. Enid wondered how much those went for these days. The mess of curls and too much makeup at her roommate's side was weighed and found wanting, and would not have been spared a second glance at all, had she not sent a crude gesture Enid's direction, provoking her into an affronted scowl. How charming. It seemed that Ms Selwyn only surrounded herself with the best and brightest of their generation. Enid made a note of how… intimately close the two of them leaned to whisper amongst themselves. Santiago placed a steadying hand on her leg, and she looped their pinkies together before turning back to their Professor.

If the elder Corvesso brother was phased by tensions flaring in the first five minutes of his class, he didn't show it. "Penwick is somewhat of the family business, I suppose. I have something of a vested interest." Weal and woe, somewhat, that June had clearly missed the game being played, but had been commended for it all the same. Kasimir getting points though, was, frankly, hilarious.

The snake-mimic rippled like water on stone, and Enid's eyes narrowed in concentration, trying to discern what it was, exactly, underneath the coiling scales. She doubted Professor Corvesso himself was responsible for the illusion, as the visible gaps in the magic would imply a shoddy level of spell work that would, quite frankly, be embarrassing for a man tasked with teaching the next generation. That meant that either it was powered by some sort of magical device, or whatever was hiding here had performed the illusion itself. Based on what class they were in, it was almost assuredly the latter.

What creatures were capable of this level of illusion? As the snake delicately swayed back and forth, she heard a soft clinking noise not traditionally associated with snakes, and her eyes narrowed. A Somulent snake, from the Sahara. The desert; it pricked a memory in the back of her brain. With the anticipated fervor of prepping for the back-to-school issue of the paper, she'd expected to be lacking in free time after classes this week, and had done something that Professor Corvesso would be smart not to get too used to: she'd read ahead.

Magical creatures weren't something Enid was especially knowledgeable on; the odds that this was one of the thousands of creatures she didn't know, rather than one of the small handfuls she did, were almost comically high. But Enid was petty, and she was certain of this being an illusion, if nothing else. She'd take half credit, if it let her show up June, a little bit.

Decision made, she waited a moment before raising her hand at Professor Corvesso's request, making a show of waiting patiently to be called on. "It's an illusion of a Somulent snake, certainly. Is it a Memisi?"

Enid had little interest in the practical portions of the lesson, and as the psychological warfare component of the class seemed to be winding down, she resigned herself to having to actually engage with their lesson, a prospect made harder by June's pet dog being assigned to her and Santiago's group. She could only sigh as her boyfriend immediately betrayed her, happy to set up a space for the interloper to join them. Enid notably did not introduce herself, instead giving the brunette a lazy once-over before gesturing towards their Memisi helper as it took on the appearance of a Somulent snake. "Any volunteers? Perhaps our new friend would grace us with a demonstration of that Hogwarts education."

Regardless of what order they eventually settled on, when Enid would eventually step up to take her turn, her form would be deceptively languid and lazy, though her pronunciation was immaculate. "Strolla."

The Memisi's attempts to addle her senses with its hypnotic dance were easily rebuffed, her mind as stinging as the rest of her. Her spell hit its mark, and the ward slotted into place neatly, like a protective tortoise shell over her thoughts. The snake's subsequent attempts to penetrate her mental defenses bounced off harmlessly, and Enid gave a sharp grin of triumph, only to huff out a frustrated "cachu hwch" as she glanced over to her roommate to gloat, and realized that the other blonde girl had found the same success.

Tagging @Santiago Corvesso, @Rafael Corvesso, @June Selwyn, @Maggie Hawkins, and @Kasimir Damon-Cowles.

Memisi Knowledge Proof: 20 + 10 = 30. Mural granted me permission to roll awareness as a reaction to Santi sharing info, and for Enid to solve it in exchange for the nat 20. This forced me to figure out how the fuck Enid knows literally anything.

Spell Casting Proofs: 18 + 8 = 26 for resisting snake's charm, 15 + 8 = 23 for casting the spell, 19 + 6 = 25 for aiming, and 12 + 8 = 20 for impact.

"Up yours," Kas would grumble in response to Enid's false calm, though he did revel in the slight sneer which had taken hold of her face.

Corvesso's tolerance - nay, reward - of Kasimir's behavior had the boy reeling in a literal sense. A step back towards the wall, disgust curling his lip and confusion muddying his eyes.

He didn't listen to the rest of the lecture. Out of spite. And to question the angle this professor was trying to come at him from. Or, alternatively, whether or not the man was sane.

Mr. Cowles. "Damon-Cowles," Kasimir corrected quickly, and loudly. Disruptively. Maybe he'll give me some more points, he thought in that bitter, mocking, nasally sarcastic tone. Blonde girl and brunette girl that he thought was in his group? Maybe?

Kasimir didn't know their names. He didn't want to. He doesn't intend to. He didn't watch as the blonde girl artfully disarms the illusion, didn't listen to her sound advice. Kasimir did not intend to try.

He was not prepared for the utter terror of having your thoughts seized.

Selwyn was right, predictability is a trap. Kas let his gaze meet the shimmering serpent's for a singular moment, and it's like the stupid hound every morning and evening but infinitely worse. There is no voice, no question, just the sensation of fangs sinking into your consciousness with intent to paralyze you. Defiant flames flared around his cranium, a firewall protecting that already corrupted hardware of gray matter, but it's no use.

The snake saw. It saw so much. It saw too much. It saw the crumbling of Kasimir Damon-Cowles, it saw the anger and the sadness and the lostness and the fear permeating his soul.

To observers, the hungry gleam in Kasimir's hazel eyes dulled to a blank stare, a teary sheen over the entire ocular surface. Wand. Wand, get it- there. There, it was in his hand, now what was he supposed to do with it? What could a stick do against the rending of his mind and spirit? Nothing. It can do nothing. I cannot fight- Spell. A spell. Stroller? No.

He needed it out, he needed it out. The ophidian would no longer be granted this breach to rifle through his personhood. The spell hit him like a smack to the face and his wand arm snapped up to point the pathetic weapon at the enemy dressed in shiny midnight scales. "Strolla!"

The presence in his mind examined one last memory - the first time he laid hands on anyone at school, of course, and his father's rage when Kas was suspended which had been seared into the boy's mind like nothing else - before retreating with a hiss. His chest heaved, his mouth was dry. He clamped his jaw shut and swallowed down the lingering adrenaline and stepped back once, twice, thrive. Still gripping his wand so tight his knuckles were white, arm still raised just so. Just in case. "Don't let it catch your thoughts," he offered to the brunette in a subdued tone, eyes tracking imperfections in the stone wall.

Roll 1 : [1d20: 3] + 6 + 1 (Resolute) = 10, -2 to all rolls (proof)
Roll 2 : [1d20: 17] + 6 + 1 (Resolute) - 2 = 22, spell cast successfully (proof)
Roll 3 : [1d20: 16] + 10 - 2 = 24, spell hits (proof)
Roll 4 : [1d20: 8] + 4 - 2 =10, spell is adequate (proof)