Despite having been anxious the days leading up to the start of the IMPS competition, Jesús felt remotely calm. Even as he stood in front of the forest (which, oddly enough, seemed terrifyingly inviting,) the sixth year found himself to be irrevocably clear-headed. This wasn't to say that he was overwhelmingly overconfident in how the challenge would play out, but he figured that even if he were to be eliminated, he'd at least have a great story to tell afterwards.

So, it was for the sake of his desire to deliver a well-thought out performance (of the grandstanding sort) with enough detail that people would feel like they were there. Every good story deserved to be told colorfully. Jesús, however, wasn't stupid, and knew better than to walk in without some form of a light source to guide him. Pulling out his wand, he quietly whispered Lumos and walked further into the forest.

Living in the concrete jungle had prepared him for cold temperatures, but only when the weather had gradually changed. At that, Jesús found himself a little chilled, and squinted as he tried to see through the fog. He realized just how absurd that was, considering the thickness of it, but pressed on. The silence unnerved him (he was a talker, he liked noise, silence was not an option,) but Jesús was going to do the best he could to walks silently while simultaneously hoping (desperately, at that) not to collide with anything.

The thickness of the fog will prohibit you from seeing clearly. It was a good idea to use that nifty little charm that created light. So focused you are on your sense of sight. What about what you can hear? Was that a soft, menacing growl? Then, with absoloute certainty, there was a shadow cast from the light. Whose or what did the shadow belong to? Was it a human’s or was it a creature’s?

Wait.

Did you hear that?

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!! AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!’’

That scream was enough to send chills down your spine. Where was it coming from?

Surely further in the Forest...

Something did not feel right, and by something, Jesús meant everything. He wasn't entirely afraid, but he knew that having a little bit of fear would probably help him out in the long run. As he continued his walk (which he found upsetting as he felt that walks were meant to be had at a leisurely pace,) the sixth year looked around trying to see or hear anything. Unfortunately, his tunnel vision was his achillies heel, as he kept walking (blindly, more or less, was the light necessary at this point?) until he'd heard something to his left.

Now, he if could confer with the women in his family, he was sure they would all tell him to get out of there, that the forest was possessed, and that he should just transfer schools. Luckily, he wasn't surrounded by them, and instead could rely on his own wit and judgment. Although his gut was telling him to keep moving, to ignore the sound, to do anything but investigate, his curiosity forced him to pause, for a brief moment, and look in the direction of the...growl? So very, very strange.

Almost simultaneously (and he wondered if the forest was more sentient than he'd originally given it credit for) he caught sight of something in front of him. Except, he didn't actually see it. With his left hand, he rubbed his eye, hoping it was allergies (he didn't have any) that were getting the best of him. It wouldn't be entirely unusual for a creature or two to be lurking around (this was their home, after all,) which was why Jesús paused (again, it was ridiculous at this point) and cast the disillusionment charm on himself. He figured it wouldn't hurt to conceal himself a little bit, and continued forward. His determination to get a move on was primarily due to the suddenly growing fear that something bigger would come creeping out. And unannounced, at that.

The scream had certainly given him pause, again, this time Jesús found himself turning around quickly, before straining to see. A shiver crept through him, and although he told himself that it was mostly due to the drop in temperature, he knew better. The only thing he knew for certain was that he had to keep moving, faster. No use sitting around like a lame duck, ready and open for anything to come and snatch him. He picked up his pace, moving towards the direction of the scream (it was the most viable sense of life that he could trust at that moment) hoping that it wasn't his imagination overworking and making him hallucinate.

Good on you for not letting the screaming make a chicken out of you. You push on and soon you stumble upon a queer sight. In a heap, lying curled up in a ball, was a middle aged man. He made no sounds but his body was shaking. Was it caused by fear? Cold? A combination of both?

Maybe it was due to that figure that caught your eye.

It was lowering its hood as it bent towards the man. Its rotting flesh of a hand may want to make you gag.

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.

The first charm made the creature stagger backwards a few paces but that was it. The second spell? That was a complete bust though it did life the gentleman off the ground and into the direction you were aiming for about five seconds. Dementors had magic of their own. It was impossible for just any old spell to work on them. The man fell back to the ground.

It debated whether to come charging at you but the weak, pathetic man on the ground was far more appealing. It lowered its face once more to the man.

Here was another soul for it to claim.

Could you live with the thought that you could not help the poor man? You needed to act quickly if you wanted to save him!

The bit of confidence and tranquility that Jesús had mustered up within him dissipated immediately as he watched the creature move backwards. His plan was supposed to go as follows: the creature was supposed to have been pushed back far enough for Jesús to move the man away from danger, then he was supposed to figure out what the creature was so he could find a way to handle it safely, and, finally, he was supposed to leave the area with the man (somehow, he hadn't thought that part through,) and get as far away from the forest as possible. All of this should have happened. And yet, the sixth year found himself, in the same predicament as before, nothing had changed, and he was slowly beginning to think that he would be responsible should the creature attack the man any further.

He needed to calm down and think. But even that was working against him; he was over-thinking, over-analyzing, and panic slowly sifted through him again.

His plan, that he thought was more or less well-thought out (given the extremity of the situation,) had fallen apart. Jesús felt his fingers start to buzz again, felt his anxiety travel through his palms, and he had to ball his free hand into a fist in order to distract himself. His mind was always working overtime to casually remind him that his earlier suspicions were probably 78% true. Jesús also had the terrifying thought that maybe the staff wouldn't intervene. This meant that whatever Professor Williams had told him previously was all a lie, and he really could not believe he fell for it. It was unfortunate; he didn't want to have to categorize Professor Williams that way, but, unfortunately, the History of Magic professor left him no choice. He had also hoped that, at the very least, the man was far enough away, because that would have been one less thing to worry about. As fate would have it, the spell hadn't worked that well at all. Although the man had lifted briefly, before plopping back onto the ground. He was in the exact same spot that Jesús found him in and, again, Jesús found himself tangling with despair.

How could he get the creature (which, now that he'd had time to process the facts, he could now, definitively say that it was, in fact, a dementor) to leave the man and come towards him instead? If Jesús could be completely honest with himself, he would have preferred the dementor to have already finished the job before Jesús arrived. The logical part of himself warned him against over-thinking, but the illogical side (the one that was currently taking hold of his decisions) felt otherwise. He needed to think even more, and figure it out before it was too late. Recalling the bit of information that he'd retained on said dark creature, he knew that dementors were able to sense the mental and physical state of those around them. They also were able to sense emotions, and Jesús berated himself for not figuring it out sooner. So preoccupied was he with everything around him (he was concerned about the growl he'd heard earlier, as he'd never read anything that pointed to a dementor having a distinct cry or call,) he'd neglected to take in the facts.

Fact: the creature was hooded, and what little bit of its body that Jesús did see hadn't registered as any sort of creature he expected to encounter in the forest. Fact: the creature was incredibly large (another reason why he had been temporarily paralyzed earlier,) and didn't appear to have any sort of legs or, rather, its legs were hidden. Fact: it was hunched over, and had been insistent on diminishing what little spirit or life the man had left. Despite all his panicking earlier, he was honestly surprised the dementor hadn't come after him. This would work in his favor, he supposed, and it was in that moment that Jesús had made a decision.

Taking all of those facts in mind, Jesús had found a bit more nerve and started to shift his thoughts away from what was happening before him and to start focusing intensely on the things that made him feel incredibly capable. His tunnel vision (which, unfortunately, was his uncontrollable tendency to hyperfocus on whatever interested him at the time,) was both a blessing and a curse. His current obsession was on animals and magical creatures. Primarily because he always wondered if animals were more sentient than humans gave them credit for, or if their sentience caused them to function differently that lead to the formation of their own, unique societies and social norms. He thought about all of this in order to ward off all his negative thoughts. He also hoped that his thoughts on the topic would successfully combat any desire the dementor might have had previously in regards to attacking him.

This enabled him to feel calmer, he was able to grip his wand better, and he managed to take several steps forward. Having proximity, he felt, would either work in his favor or would be his undoing. Casting a patronus charm, it seemed, was his best course of action; there weren't any other options spell-wise (nothing that he knew or could do as he was still in his sixth year,) that he could try out. And despite not having had the sort of practice to produce a corporeal patronus (he would have never imagined that he would actually come into contact with a dementor while he was still a student,) he would still try. He had to. It was an incredibly advanced charm that he'd taken the time last year to research (to be constantly vigilant was important to him, especially considering the sort of dark creatures that roamed around the wizarding world,) but he'd never actually cast it successfully. Still, Jesús knew deep down that this was the only way for him to get the dementor away from the man (who he still didn't know if he was real or if he was another creature that had been transfigured to look like a man.) And if he didn't act quickly, everything he went through and had done previously would have been for nothing.

He raised his wand and pointed it at the dementor. Happy memories for Jesús were few and far between. However, the boy managed to extract what he felt was his happiest memory from his life: his ninth birthday party. His tías and abuela had worked tirelessly to decorate their apartment to create a happy, festive environment. It was an explosion of reds and yellows with teal and shades of pink. There was candy, good music, family and friends, enough food to feed a small sports team, and most importantly: his parents. The peak of this memory was when they decided on taking an impromtu family photo, with all of them smiling and laughing. Jesús had clung to this memory and only brought it out when he needed a reminder of what he valued the most. While channeling this, he enunciated as best as he could, and shouted "Expecto Patronum!" What came from his wand was something indistinguishable, and he wasn't entirely sure if it was solid or not. It was more or less a wispy stream of smoke, but he figured anything was better than nothing.

It was definitely time for a new plan especially since the creature was willing to go back to its task of causing harm to the man. So intense was it focusing on the face just a few inches from it, it failed to notice the wand raising.

Not until it was too late.

The smoke was enough. The memory you thought of was a happy-filled one and was enough to drive the dementor away. Your attention is drawn to the man. He has gone completely still now but if you move closer, you’ll see that his eyes are wide open with pure terror.

You should do something to help him feel better… what comforts one after that kind of attack?

Jesús released the breath that he'd been desperately holding onto. He was in shock, to say the least, and would've dropped his wand had he not been clutching it so tightly. Blinking quickly, Jesús scanned the area to make sure that the creature had really gone away (his anxiety was slowly trying to settle back in to make him believe otherwise) before making his way over to the man. He briefly wondered about whether or not something else was going to charge into the forest, but quickly shoved the thought away. Whether he liked it or not (and he didn't,) Jesús had more pressing matters to attend to. Not knowing if the man was no-maj or just a dopey wizard who'd gotten caught up somehow in the dark forest, Jesús tucked his wand away; no need to frighten the man any more than he already was. As he moved closer towards, Jesús hoped (really, really hoped) that the man was still alive.

If he wasn't...then Jesús was in an even bigger predicament than he thought.

He'd never imagined that the competition would start out in a dark, twisted forest with a dementor prowling around (and the possibility of other creatures lurking as well.) It was the worst kind of joke that anyone could think of; no sane person would have put the students through this. And yet, here he was, stranded in the forest, directionless, with another person who refused to move. Right. This was, of course, another strike against Hawk-eyes Hawthorne; the sixth year knew, had felt it deep down, that this running list would be incredibly long by the end of the competition. Jesús had never felt comfortable at school (this included all the no-maj schools he attended, and Ilvermorny as well,) but he never once thought that there could be anything that would deter him from graduating. Not a single thing, that is, until the competition and first challenge started. Now, he was 88% certain that his graduation would not actually happen, and that he was probably better off doing something completely unrelated.

And while all of those things might be true, he still had a job to do (something akin to an ethical and moral obligation to help the man out) before he could move on.

Crouching next to the man, Jesús waved a hand in front of his eyes to see if he was still awake or if he'd passed out in shock and forgot to close his eyes. What was the right course of action after having your life on the line for so long? He didn't actually know how to help someone after they'd encountered a dementor because (and he mentally reviewed the facts over and over again,) he'd not been educated on the matter (simply because the likelihood anyone coming into contact with a dementor was slim to none, unless they intentionally sought the dark creatures out.) After weighing his options (he wished he could've brought with him something sweet and filling, like a piece of chocolate, to help at bring some life back into the man,) the sixth year opted to splash a little water in his face, and then would proceed with another charm to pick his mood up.

As Jesús stood up, he quickly pulled out his wand and took several steps to the side. If his earlier assumptions were true (which, he firmly believed they were,) then it would be in both of their interests that he hid his wand as best as he could. He wondered if the distance he'd given the man (he backed up a little and off to the side so, at the very least, he could be out of his line of vision) was far enough away that he didn't come off as suspicious, but close enough that he could conjure some water carefully. "Aqua Eructo," Jesús said as quietly as he could. He maneuvered a small, steady stream of water over to the man and splashed his face a little. He would have stopped there but he was in a moral dilemma over whether or not it was actually his place to help him out. But, since he had already decided he would, he couldn't really back out. Moving closer again, he figured the only other charm that would help shake the man out of his mental and physical distress, was the Cheering Charm.

Determined to see this entire ordeal through, Jesús motioned his wand in the direction of the man and quietly said the incantation. He was fairly optimistic (it wasn't a complicated charm,) but he had no idea how long the dementor had been attacking the man. And if that didn't work, he would have to think up a different sort of plan, and would most likely attempt to just move the man somehow.

The splashing of the water on his face brings the man back to the present. He had never been more terrified in his life and he stares around at you (after looking to the side where you were standing) with astonished eyes. “You… you saved me. Thank you, dear boy.’’ He sits up. “That was horrible.’’ Fear and dejection cross his face as he wiped it to get rid of some of the water.

“How did you save me? I remember seeing this brilliant flash of lightning that chased… whatever it was away from me. And you were pointing something… something that made the bright light appear. You said funny words too. What was that thing tha-’’

The man was full of questions but suddenly a wave of happiness washed over him. He felt… happier than he had been in days! He started to smile.

Uh oh. The man still observed what you had done for him despite your attempts to prevent that from happening.

You’d better do something!

To his surprise, the man came to and, unfortunately, Jesús felt conflicted. It would've been much easier if the man had simply passed out from physical and mental exhaustion (because lugging a still body was easier than trying to explain an unfortunate magical encounter.) Almost immediately, relief flooded his negative thoughts; the man seemed to be able to articulate words and was thanking him unnecessarily. Without thinking, Jesús sighed loudly, feeling suddenly drained from the whole ordeal. If this was the first challenge, he shuddered to think about what other things they had in store for them. Jesús didn't actually know if the dementor was part of the challenge (and if it wasn't then this made things more complicated than he needed them to be.) And if it was, well, Jesús would have even more words for Hawthorne and Moxley.

What Jesús wanted to do, was move further away so he could process what had just happened. He'd already felt the beginnings of an anxiety attack, but he closed his eyes tightly, counted to ten, and reopened them. The bile that tried to creep up his throat earlier, dissipated quickly, and he continued to regulate his breathing as best as he could. A calmness settled over him, and he made up his mind to fake some well-needed positivity so that he would be able to control the narrative of their situation.

After clearing his throat, he shot a sympathetic smile at the man. That he survived the dementor's relentless attacks was a testament to his vitality and Jesús actually admired that. Or, his brain had been working overtime the moment he'd stepped foot into the forest, maybe it was due to Jesús' timeliness and planning. He wouldn't give himself that sort of credit, though, because he recalled walking carefully and without urgency even after he heard the scream. Not that the man needed to know that; he would keep that to himself, mostly because he wouldn't have been able to explain his apprehension, nor would he be able to fake a positive demeanor throughout that sort of conversation.

As Jesús looked at the man, he weighed his words carefully. Frightening a stranger, who seemingly had no idea what was happening, would be counterproductive. And if there was one thing Jesús did not tolerate, it was having his plans fall through. "No need to thank me," he said pleasantly, trying to keep calm in order to completely eradicate all feelings of anxiety within him. He let the man's second comment hang in the air and chose to ignore it. Again, Jesús needed to keep a relaxed, positive demeanor so he could accurately think things through. This was particularly important as they still needed to find a way out of the dark forest. And alive, at that. The onslaught of questions was actually expected; Jesús didn't think he would have been able to get away from actually talking about what happened, but he really didn't know how to go about explaining things either.

This brought about his previous theory; was the man even no-maj, or was this some hallucination that was induced by the fog in the forest? And if the man was real, and an actual no-maj, then how did he see the dementor? He mulled over this, weighed the words that were spoken to him, and then considered the possibility that the man actually did not see the dementor and had assumed something was attacking him. The assumption that he was attacked, however, was 100% correct. The problem lay with the uncertainty over the validity of the two theories that Jesús had previously constructed. The latter seemed to be the most plausible. Despite their inability to see a dark creature like that, a no-maj could certainly feel the effects of a dementor when it was in close proximity. And Jesús knew for certain that the man had been attacked more than once (at least, from his perspective anyway.)

The Cheering Charm couldn't have kicked in sooner; Jesús was grateful that the man had stopped babbling long enough for the him to deliver a response. "Now, that is a very, very long story, that I will be happy to explain later, even though it would probably put you to sleep." He refused to miss an opportunity to craft a story, even if the man was a no-maj, of fear and tragedy (bar the terrifying encounter with the dementor) and hope. This would be an intricate story that Jesús needed time to prepare. He smiled again, and continued. "What I can tell you, though, is that you hit your head pretty hard," the lie fell out of his mouth with ease. It wasn't that Jesús made a habit out of lying (he would much rather tell the truth in the most blunt and honest way possible,) but as he wasn't certain about the man before him, he needed to manipulate the situation to work in his favor. "We should leave, before...," he paused, took a deep breath and exhaled deeply before continuing, "anyway, we need to move. No use staying around here." He desperately wanted to get out as quickly as possible.

And, as he was just so charitable that day, he extended a hand to the man so he could take it. He assumed that the man, despite his newfound feelings of (artificial) happiness, would've found it difficult to stand. And if this meant giving him a bit of assistance, Jesús would gladly do it.

The revelation left the man stunned. He hadn’t realised he had hit his head. “I must have missed that.’’ He felt no pain hence the second thoughts. “Will I remember this? That feeling was more than horrible. The entire experience was.’’ He takes your offered hand to get unsteadily to his feet.

The newfound happiness helped to keep him balanced even if he wobbled here and there. "Let’s get going then!!’’

Do you think you could do something about the issue of the question the No- Maj asked you?

The man was proving to be more quick-witted than Jesús originally thought. He had fully expected the man to be more disoriented, extremely confused, and terrified (which were all perfectly understandable reactions.) That he was able to coherently articulate his doubts about Jesús' statement was astounding. And quite dangerous. His brows furrowed very slightly, and his mind began to work out something to tell the man. If he didn't tread carefully, he would do more harm than good and end up with a hysterical no-maj on his hand. They needed to both keep their focus and move away from the area. The nagging feeling that something bigger would come their way continued to insist itself in his mind, creating an opportunity for doubt to settle in. The sixth year did not need this sort of internal conflict, nor did he want it. Should they make it out of the forest alive, Jesús would gladly ditch the man in search of the people responsible for all of this.

Within a few seconds, Jesús found himself annoyed all over again. Any sort of explanation given by Hawk-eyes and Moxley would be met with resistance and harsh words. He refused to let them get away unscathed.

Unfortunately, working himself up would not help him either, so Jesús counted slowly counted to ten, and felt himself at ease again. "That's understandable," he said, nodding his head right after. "You're probably just in shock. It's the body's natural defense mechanism to pain when in the face of fear or trauma." He didn't actually know if that was true or not but it felt true to Jesús, so he stuck with it. On the subject of memories, Jesús had an answer for that as well. "Memories are tricky," he started, building himself up to give a lengthy, detailed, philosophical-like retort, "no one ever remembers anything exactly how it happened. Even now, you're most likely misremembering how things happened." Again, he would play on the whole 'shocked' angle. "If we take a careful look at the atmosphere and environment around us, it's only natural that, as humans, our fear of the unknown has manipulated our rationality and made things seem worse than they actually were."

It wouldn't do for the man to try and find any fault with his argument, so Jesús continued. "So, once we get out of here, we can sit, process, and reevaluate what happened in the hopes of coming to a resolution." And with that, Jesús smiled at the man, hoping to quell any and all doubts. And if he still had questions, Jesús would gladly answer them. He helped to steady the man, not wanting him to fall and actually hit his head (although, considering that it might make things easier, Jesús probably wouldn't lunge to catch him.) "Yeah, so, let's move quickly," he said, his anxiety settling in again. The realization that there might be more things out there made him uneasy. He walked, wanting to get as far away from the clearing as possible, and glanced over at the man to make sure he was alright to move around without assistance. The Cheering Charm seemed to have given him a boost in energy and, not for the first time, Jesús marveled at how useful magic was. However, should the man continue to pry and pester the sixth year, he had several ideas about how best to keep him quiet, and wouldn't feel any remorse about the sort of methods he would use.

The man had doubts. You saw it in his eyes. On one hand, what you were telling him is true about trauma but he was so certain of what he saw and what he heard. A frown crossed his face. He was trying to replay everything.

“No,’’ he stated suddenly. “I knew what I saw. I was scared, yes but I trust my eyes and my ears. I’ve thought over it over.’’ He stops walking. “I never want to experience what I just did again. I never want to remember it. Not now, not ever for as long as I live. I want this over with now.’’

He was a tricky customer, wasn’t he?

Can you hear the firmness of his voice. He was refusing to go anywhere until he got what he wanted.

Jesús supposed that with the fog out of the way, their trek through the forest would be a lot smoother. Over and over, he hoped that they would make it outside without any difficulties. A part of him wondered if all of this was part of the challenge; and if that part was right (he hoped, desperately, that it wasn't,) then that would mean they willingly sent a dementor after them. And for what. Trauma? Entertainment? All for a scholarship? He fought back the urge to spit, and continued to keep his cool as they walked. Even if he didn't make it to the end of the competition, he was determined to cause enough chaos to make everyone's heads spin. This was his silent promise to Hawk-eyes and Moxley.

He did not imagine the possibility of the man slowing his gait in order stop walking entirely; this gave the boy pause, which, in turn made him feel anxious all over again. With a raised brow, Jesús spun to face the man, and feigned a confusion. "No?" He repeated it, rhetorically, so the man would hear how absurd he sounded. Jesús would attempt to remain in control, though, he would not let a no-maj try and flip the situation in his favor. As the man babbled (because that's what it was to him, babbling,) Jesús tried his best to follow the logic behind his rambling. For someone who'd been attacked by a dementor, he was surprisingly clear-headed, even through all of his whining.

All pretenses aside, Jesús had found yet another irritation to add to his already terrible day. The man was pushing it; and even though Jesús wanted to appear caring and understanding and sympathetic, he was anything but at the moment. At the end of the man's spiel, Jesús sported a blasé expression on his face. He closed his eyes briefly, used his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose, and thought about whether or not he should tackle the issue rationally or irrationally. He was in quite the dilemma. If he took the rational route, he would make another attempt at convincing the (now supposed) no-maj that he was unnecessarily stressing and that things would be alright as soon as they made it out. The irrational route, however, was dangerously appealing and involved an attempt at tampering with the man's memory. It was something that he shouldn't know how to do, and he technically didn't really know how. But, he'd been very interested in researching the human mind and had delved a bit into memory over the summer. The incantation was simple; it was the execution that had him a bit worried.

It wasn't that Jesús was looking forward to possibly ruining what little brain the man before him had, but if this was the fastest route to getting them both out, then he would take it.

Not that he would ever openly admit it, but Jesús had no issue putting his own needs first (even at the expense of his own moral compass.) At the moment, the man (along with all of his doubts,) currently posed a threat. But Jesús wouldn't panic just yet, he had to remain calm. "So, let me get this straight. Just moments ago, you were cowering in fear, and, please correct me if I'm wrong, but now you're telling me that you suddenly have a very clear recollection of what happened to you. Right?" It was the sort of absurdity that Jesús did not appreciate. He spoke with a calm, even voice in order to bury his irritation. And although his face had relaxed quite a bit, he began to regard the man carefully. "And now you don't want to remember it." It wasn't a question; he was repeating the man's statement so that he could hear his own ridiculousness out loud.

Jesús sighed (loudly, dramatically, and almost laughed.) There was nothing more frustrating than having a stranger color his story with doubt. He considered stunning him, considered whether or not binding him was the safer option, and also considered simply leaving him and walking away. There was no real reason for Jesús to stay and entertain the man's shenanigans; if he knew what was best for him, he'd leave the forest too. But, and it bothered Jesús that he still cared about seeing this through, he finally came to the conclusion that making an attempt at the Memory Charm was his best option. Jesús pulled out his wand and sighed again. "I don't really care about explaining the details right now," he pointed the tip of his wand in the direction of the man's face, "but since you are insistent, I will gladly give you what you want." He was tired of talking (which was shocking considering just how much he loved to talk,) and needed this whole ordeal to be over. His concern over whether or not he could actually perform the spell had long passed, as he focused on enunciating the incantation properly. "Obliviate."

The man knew it. This boy was feeding him an utter and ridiculous story to cover up something. He had tried to confuse the boy into spilling the details but that did not work. “I do not like your tone, young man. I’m not the one covering something up. The experience happened just moments ago. Of course it’s fresh in my mind. Why do you think police wants to speak to victims and witnesses of crimes the moment something happens? Because they can recall things clearly.’’

Yes, that’s what he said. He wanted not to remember this again.

A glimmer of fear passed the man’s when when the wand is raised. When the word is uttered, he felt no different. He certainly remembered his experience. “Unfortunately, I can still remember being attacked by an invisible thing.’’

You ought to try your spell work again.

Again, Jesús had to remind himself to stay calm. The inclination to walk away was strong, but he wasn't entirely sure that the man wasn't part of the challenge. This uncertainty slowly heightened his anxiety. He also had to remind himself that things were going to work out; he was determined to not let his anxiousness put him on edge. Jesús figured that the best way to firmly keep control of the situation, was to relax and think things through. He thought about how relieved he would be to finally exit the forest (and if he could leave the man behind, all the better); thought about how he really wanted to eat something fried and greasy; and thought about how he wanted to sleep for at least twelve hours straight when everything was over.

Reminding himself of these things helped to soothe his irritation, and with that he was able to breathe a little easier.

While his attempt to remain at ease did not go in vain, his blasé demeanor refused to change. And although the man raised valid points (all of which Jesús would agree with, had the situation not been so messy,) the boy still would not allow him to steamroll his way through the conversation and push Jesús into a confession that he did not and would not give. He ignored the bit about the no-maj not liking his tone (and he wanted to say that this wasn't the first time he'd been told that, but kept the comment to himself.) "Unfortunately," he drawled, keeping his voice as even and as non-threatening as he could, "neither one of us are in the presence of a police officer and, therefore, do not need to investigate any closer than we already are." Not that he really needed to continue reasoning with the man; the whole argument was going around in circles and Jesús did not have that kind of time or patience.

Jesús didn't actually think that the spell would be entirely successful, but he'd hoped that something would've happened. This placed him in another situation that he didn't want to deal with, but knew he had to. Sighing (again, he was getting so tired of this,) Jesús stared at the man, and folded his arms across his chest. His eyebrow twitched as he thought about his next course of action. Clearly any attempts to further convince the no-maj that he was making the events out to be a bigger deal than they actually were was pointless. He brought an arm up, just slightly, and tapped his wand against his cheek. It wouldn't do to leave the job half-finished, especially when the man continued to insist that he wanted to forget. Briefly, he considered hexing him or physically knocking him out with something nearby, but he wasn't entirely sure that that would go right, either.

Confundus Charm, Jelly-Brain Jinx, Memory Charm. He mulled over which one to choose. It wasn't a hard decision, but it wasn't exactly easy either. Again, he considered his choices. Confundus Charm, Jelly-Brain Jinx, Memory Charm. If he didn't pick something quickly, everything would fall apart. Confundus Charm or Jelly-Brain Jinx or Memory Charm... If he was going to help the man out (which, really, this was all being done to help Jesús out,) then he'd have to stick with the spell he'd attempted previously.

As it wasn't his own brain, Jesús figured there was no harm in trying the spell again. He felt a surge of confidence (that was fueled by his desire to be rid of the man and his determination to get the spell right out of spite,) and stopped tapping his wand to point it at the man again. He concentrated solely on removing this unfortunate and unnecessary experience from the no-maj's mind. "Obliviate," he said firmly, ensuring that his enunciation was as clear as possible.

The man did not have time for this. He was not going to argue with someone so arrogant. Instead, he stood there. He waited for his request to be granted. When you raise your, his expression does not change. He just wanted to be rid of the memories.

A blank expression crossed his face when you say the incantation. After a moment, it cleared and the man looked around at the Forest, a frown gracing his face. “What are we doing here?’’ He looks at you with a confused expression.

A sudden snap of twigs jolts you to attention.

You might want to make your exit quickly or risk some first hand experience with the creatures that lurked in the Forest.

An eerie silence crept over him. He'd been holding his breath for what felt like an eternity. And in that moment (that very, very brief moment,) everything was still. The man, in all his dopey glory, had insisted and insisted and insisted. Jesús didn't have a moment to notice, but a little more light had filtered in through the trees; it illuminated the area (he was pretty sure they were at the edge of a clearing of some sort) just slightly. It was enough to catch his attention; his eyes darted around quickly and he realized just how secluded the area was.

As he looked deeper into the forest around them (what he could see, anyway; the darkness of the forest could be attributed to the thickness of trees and, subsequently, their branches,) he felt a chill run down his spine. And, not for the first time, he felt a wave of goosebumps travel all along his arms. The danger of the forest became more apparent with each second they spent standing there. This brought his attention back to the man, and he watched, in earnest, as the man's expression shifted. This shift caused Jesús' own expression to change as well; no longer did he have a blasé demeanor (there was no need for such a neutral, uninterested expression.) Quickly, Jesús tucked away his wand (no need to have a repeat of the previous events,) and waited for the no-maj to say something. He found himself sporting a more pleased expression; it was so pleasant that when the man came to, Jesús met him with a genuine smile.

When it came to lying, Jesús considered himself a bit of a connoisseur. He didn't like to lie (not really,) but in certain cases he found it absolutely necessary. In order to convince himself, he always thought about lying as an attempt to construct an elaborate story. If he wanted to tell a good lie, he'd have to stick closely to the truth. "We took a wrong turn and ended up here, but it doesn't matter," he paused, hearing noise (twigs, it sounded like twigs snapping,) in the distance. With furrowed brows, Jesús glanced back at the man, trying his best to not appear uneasy. "I'd rather not stick around to find out what is," he said quietly. "Let's go. Quickly." He hoped that the man understood the urgency in his voice, and that he would keep his comments and opinions to a bare minimum.

Again, Jesús turned in the direction of the noise, and told himself to relax and think clearly. He gently placed his hand on the man's shoulder and nudged him along. "No time to enjoy the scenery," he said, keeping his tone light and even. His comment was absurd, as he didn't think anyone would ever travel to the dark forest for sight seeing and the like, but he really didn't have time to think about the logic behind his words. Jesús started to walk, fast, with a hand holding onto the man's arm to guide him along as he walked out of the clearing. They needed to put as much distance as possible between them and whatever else was lurking around the area. The hope that they'd reach the edge of the forest burned strongly within him, prompting him to move a little faster. He only slowed his gait to make sure that the man was following along, but kept the walk at a brisk pace.

A wrong turn. The man nodded. He bought your explanation and heard the urgency in your voice. “Yes, let’s.’’ He began following you, trusting you to know the way out. He appreciated the comforting hand on his shoulder. “I agree. I don’t want to spend another second in here.’’

The exit, which is directly ahead of you now, is waiting for you.

The forest seemed to be thinning out, that is, the trees didn't seem as mangled or close together, and more light was visible from the outside. While Jesús did appreciate nature and hiking and exploring unknown territory, he only did so on his own terms. Being thrown into a wild (because this forest was far from tame) forest with no idea where to go or what to do didn't bother him. Having to navigate through a thick, ominous fog? Creepy, but not entirely undoable. Being subjected to the anxiety-inducing task of saving a helpless no-maj (who was undeniably suspicious and incredibly annoying)? Now that...that made his blood boil.

Grateful for the cooperation of the newly-reformed no-maj, Jesús maneuvered them around the large, stray branches, oddly shaped rocks, and suspicious looking flora (that he was pretty sure shouldn't be able to grow in a forest, at all.) While he really wanted to purge the entire ordeal out of his mind forever, he also knew that there were things he needed to review carefully once they got out. He'd momentarily stopped obsessively replaying the last thirty minutes in his head, and drew in a breath when he saw that they'd reached the edge of the forest.

Giving the man a light tap on his shoulder, Jesús sighed contentedly. As he exited the forest (his relief was immediate, and he wanted to move as far away from the forest as possible, however,) a few pertinent things bounced around his mind: who could he call over to help him with the man? He gave the man a reassuring smile and said: "Let me look for someone who can help us," (translation: let him find all the parties responsible for stressing him out unnecessarily) before walking further ahead. He kept his eyes peeled for anyone who looked important and capable.

The moment you step out of the Forest with the man, he turns into a dummy. That’s right. He was nothing but a dummy all along. You hear footsteps behind you and turn to see a young blond woman walking towards you. She’s a Ministry official and was Disillusioned the entire time while following your progress throughout the challenge.

She smiled at you then she directed her wand to the dummy. “Congratulations on completing the first task, Mr Rodriguez.'' She held out a battered cellular phone case. “This will take you back to the Stands.’’

When you touch the case, it will take you away.

OOC: You are now free to read the Viewing Area and the other competitors’ threads.

It was strange; he figured that there would've been people waiting outside of the forest to greet him, or them, actually. Jesús had started to look around when he detected movement right near him. Still on edge from dealing with the dark forest and the ridiculous no-maj, he expected to come face-to-face with a creature who might've escaped undetected by him or the man (which would've been entirely plausible, as Jesús was so focused on getting out and had tuned out the random, ominous sounds emanating from the forest.) He did not, however, expect to see a Ministry Official (his eyes narrowed at the sight of her; ) nor did he expect to see the no-maj go rigid until he finally revealed himself to be a dummy.

A dummy.

Blinking several times, Jesús tried to piece together what just happened. She was talking; she was congratulating him; and she was handing him a...cellphone case? The sixth year had so many questions, but she clearly had other plans for him. Instinctively, he reached out of the cellphone case and was transported to the stands. A little disoriented, Jesús took a minute to get his bearings before glancing around him and finally taking in all the people and the noise that accompanied them.