Event Blossom Ball - Spring Festival

@Ruka Burnett-Tân@Jack Burnett @Kazuo Shimada @Dealla Prince @Winnie Harper

Jake took a deep breath, as the oppressive eeriness of the Underworld gave way to Spring. The boy bent over, panting slightly, relief flooding through him as if he had just escaped the actual Underworld. To Jake, it felt like he had.

After a moment he straightened up and looked around. This looked much safer than where he'd just come from, but Jake knew that it wasn't really. You were never TOTALLY safe at a Hogwarts ball. Ruka had once told him that fear was his superpower - it was how he saw danger when it was coming. Maybe that was why he was the only one who noticed.

And what if something did happen? Something that made him have to go running back towards the castle? That would mean running back through the Underworld again - a place Jake never wanted to go back to ever - especially not alone. He imagined being chased through the darkness, pursued by whatever monstrous terror might descend upon them tonight and shook his head to shake the feeling out of his mind, holding Pegasus Freddie a little tighter.

Still, it was better than where he'd been before. Anybody could see that. There were flowers - cherry blossoms - music. He tried to remember that this was all made to look this way, like something out of the very movie he'd come dressed as - even the Underworld had been pretend. And didn't Hercules go into the underworld and make it out alive? Yes. He looked down at his stuffed dog who was now a stuffed Pegasus and took strength from his eyes. He wasn't just Jake, the little Hufflepuff boy. Today he was Hercules, the hero.

He looked around to see if he could find any familiar faces (like maybe FINALLY find out where GEORGE went), or maybe find his other Scamander dorm brother, Jack Warren. Jake liked being around his friends, and didn't even heros need friends? Every good story talked about the value of teamwork. He didn't find either of them, but he did see some other friends - mixed in amongst some strangers.

"Hi everyone," he said, giving everybody a wave. He felt a little better already - his relief at seeing familiar faces overcoming his shyness at seeing strange ones. He might have given Ruka a hug in greeting, but instead he eyed his torch a little warily, even though he knew that Ruka could control fire. Jack and Ruka had kept him company at the Halloween ball. They would know about his ball worry. That was when Ruka had made him feel almost courageous. Jake tried to remember the words the third year had said then. Then he made a muscle to show off his costume, but also to feel strong and brave.

Jack and Ruka weren't the only two here, there was Kazuo, and the girl Dealla who had been with them at the Halloween night. Jake looked around at everybody's costumes, holding his winged Pegasus dog at his chest.

"How come you're a goat?" Jake asked, squinting up at Jack and cocking his head sideways.

Interacting with Milo Durand (@Delilah Stewart)

Serena blinked as he said a 'woah' before he followed it with something that she did not quite understand. Belle was uh... a girl, right? Or uh woman? Or female, maybe? She was not entirely sure but wasn't there a phrase about belles of the ball or something that was associated with women? Though that did not help in his context. Was he saying 'woah, you're a girl'? That would be an odd thing to say to someone though... "Oh! O-oh," She responded with a bit more relief as she understood that he was not just saying she was a girl but rather, it was a compliment. Right. Belle meant 'nice', maybe? The second oh was when it dawned on her that it was a compliment.

She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear a little awkwardly, not quite expecting to receive one. She was supposed to respond in kind too, right? Her gaze fell on him. He was dressed in a suit. Definitely not on the theme at all but he looked sharp, "Thank you, so do you," She responded, slightly more quietly than previously as she felt a little embarrassed.

Luckily her awkwardness dispersed at the scene of the underworld. The dim setting distracted her. She almost jumped as she felt something touch her shoulder, relaxing when she realised it was just Milo. "Oh uh yeah," She whispered, trying to say she was fine, even though she was not fully fine. Taking his hand, she quickly dragged him towards the Spring Festival when he agreed to going wherever she wanted. The setting was much more beautiful. The area was lit up with beautiful lanterns and the scene had a lovely floral theme to it that was benefitting for the name blossom ball.

Relaxing only when they reached the safety of the spring festival, stepping into a much more lit up area and away from her brother, she released his hand. Oh. She had been holding his hand. That was... embarrassing. They were near the drinks table by this point. Serena spotted the bright colour pitchers. She owed him an explanation, right? It was likely odd for her to drag him out. At least, she felt bad for doing it. Grabbing a glass, she helped herself to one of the drinks to calm her nerves. It was the first pitcher she could reach, taking a few sips to buy herself a moment, "Sorry about pulling you like that..." She responded as turned to him, ignoring the awkwardness of the fact that she had been holding his hand, "It's just uh..." Did she really want to tell this random boy that she had met that she was a fourteen year old - fifteen in less than two weeks - who was still uneasy and slightly afraid of the dark? She had gotten a lot better in the few years but it still made her uneasy and nervous. It made her worry.

"Well, I saw my brother and uh, I didn't want you to have to meet him," Serena responded finally. This was also true. Seeing Arjan was the second reason to run away from that area. She had no idea how he would react to seeing her here with Milo and she did not want Milo to have to deal with that infuriating jerkface. Arjan was a meaniepoop, through and through, in her mind. It was not the sole reason but it was definitely better than admitting she was scared of the dark. How pathetic did that sound to someone who did not know the dark had almost killed her? It made her sound like a child, who thought there were monsters under their bed or something.

Ah! She had helped herself to a drink in her nervousness without even offering him one, "Oh! Sorry, can I get you a drink too?" She offered as she motioned towards the different brightly coloured pitchers.

ACTION: [Entered from Underworld with Milo], Getting a drink/drinking

Stamina: 10 | Evasion: 10 | Strength: 1 | Wisdom: 13 | Arcane Power: 5 | Accuracy: 10
Abilities: Part-Goblin [Gobbledegook and Wandless] and Evasive Maneuvers
Status: Nervous | Health: Full

Post Tracker: [1][2]

Outfit of the day: [1][2][3][4]

Uh Oh

Many of the Ball’s attendees had either rushed off to do the Trials right away or lingered in the Underworld, waiting for friends and dates. So the Spring Festival started slowly, a few students making their way down to the brightly lit area to partake of the food and silently judge the chaotic dance music that filled the area.

Kazuo Shimada would, of course, be present, both in his role as judge for one of the Trials and generally as one of the organizers. Possibly also as The Manager for wayward Karens to complain to.

The first two students to make their way down would be Vlad Athanatos and Santario Martin, choosing to converse quietly in the relative calm before the storm.

Following them would be Erin Ryan, bedsheet-wearing-chaos-in-motion, arriving just in time to defend the Ball from a most intimidating lantern. Despite the singular and entirely effortless attempt from Kazuo to warn Erin away from the lantern, the Slytherin would, in an impressive feat of strength, solidly murder the lantern for all to see. The lantern, artistically welded metal encasing the flame, would thankfully not light anything on fire quite yet despite Ryan’s best efforts. It would lay on its side, projecting its leafy patterns at odd angles, dented from where it hit the ground.

Matthias Pride would be the next to join the festivities, immediately seeking out Kazuo to lodge an Official Complaint. Unfortunately, he would be interrupted by a gaggle of redheads - Burnett, Burnett and Harper - and a Gryffindor (Nicholas McCowan) before he could get his complaint out. While practically sobbing in dismay at the horrible things he had to endure at the hands (lips?) of Levi Drakos, he found himself receiving a shower by way of one clumsy Ravenclaw. Did Winnie think he was too hot and needed to cool down? Or perhaps her eyes were too firmly set upon the not-quite-twins she was following around like a love-sick puppy and truly didn’t notice the hem of her dress dragging beneath her foot?

Just in time to witness this chaotic trainwreck, Dealla Prince arrived and found herself immediately set upon by Winnie, the younger Ravenclaw clinging to her unexpectedly at Erin’s rather expressive show of wrestling skills. Is it really a Greek-themed party without wrestling? Perhaps when Yefim is done screaming his way through the Trials, he will join Erin in a match and spare the lanterns.

Two more lovely girls in fancy dresses would arrive - Meenauh and Lavinia - and wisely avoid the chaos around Kazuo. Then Jake Morris would burst out of the Underworld path, appearing to have run through the darkness to find the light. The smallest Hercules and his loyal Pegasus swiftly joined those he recognized, completely unaware of the chaos he was about to walk into. Lastly, the lovely Serena Towers successfully dragged her date away from the gloom and into the light.

A quiet start but would it remain that way? Unlikely. This was, after all, a Hogwarts Ball. Nothing ever went to plan.

Interacts with: @Winnie Harper, @Kazuo Shimada, and @Jack Burnett

Mentions: trouble

Well, this was going as well as one could hope. He even got what he wanted in the end - a reaction, just from Jack's date Winnie. Well, his not-date in any case. Unimpressed with his tales of "kissing practice" and Jack's insatiable 'appetites' some people were cheaper to rile than others and this girl was not worth a pair of coppers.

The best he got from Jack was a bit of name-calling, an oaf of all things coming from the mouth of a goat. To 'shut his lying trap' to which all Jack got was a mocking smirk. Jack was irked and that was all Matt needed. "No mistake I assure you," he shrugged silently daring the boy to prove his words as lies. He had nothing to prove, the accusation would weigh on him like any other. The burden of innocence in the eyes of the public unlike the eyes of the court was truly on the accused.

"As for the 'violent girl', I think she was totally justified in what she did to you. Too bad she didn't hit you hard enough to keep your jaw from yammering still."

"Then you would not get your good-night kiss hun," Mathias prodded. Not that Jack was remotely his type, in fact there was something unappealing about goat men he just could not put his finger on what. No, that was certainly Miss Winnie's fetish.

The girl, Winnie like some cartoonish caricature in name, was sent off like an errand girl to fetch the boys a drink. Poor drab little thing.

A bit of time to complete his diversionary mission. “Had me first?”

"Indeed" lyre boy.

“File a complaint? Sumimasen , Pride, just to understand you… Are you asking for the manager?”

Yes, he was going to Karen this bitch up. He did not truly care or have any passion for this muggle jean brand boy, but it was an excuse to complain. An opportunity to confuse others, sully his reputation and most importantly garner a reaction. Not that he expected the Asian fellow here who had a date with a lyre rather than a woman to be of much entertainment, objectives are objectives and it was the organizers he had to distract.

“He dumped you? At a Ball? How awful for you, Pride. Dumped you for a girl no less. Am I to understand that it was this girl who gave you such a lovely blemish? Truly unbelievable. What can I do to remedy this? I can hardly let the reputation of my event suffer because my co-organizer decided to act like a… what’s the word? Cad?”

Pretty calm, but he did not expect Kazuo to fight his battles, just off-handedly mention his 'lie' to his organization-partner when he made himself known. To set off yet another barrage of as aptly put -- verbal diarrhea for the guests to wade through so that they would go unnoticed.

Winnie would return and with a feigned trip the contents of her cup - well just the one, were spilled on his clothes. The old, cliché 'spilled drink' at a party done by jealous women when they see a girl wearing the same outfit (in this instance that was not the case but he was certain he could pull off that gown spectacularly) or when they had become jealous of the affections they might garner from 'their' man (not that Jack was hers by his assertion). Again he could easily lure the ginger way with promises about as shallow as a puddle if he really wanted to, the Snape Boys were at heart rather similar despite their divergent packaging. Still, he had to admit the whole attempt was sad really, she was defending her territory which was not hers even in name.

She was a terrible liar, almost as bad as Mathias was but the difference between the two of them was the fact that his lies had an intended ends and hers were merely jealous posturing. At the very least he could have a bit of fun on his way to victory.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so clumsy. Perhaps you can go find a friend, if you have any, and get them to help you clean it off? I'm certain there's a spell you can use."

A bit of a jab -- 'if you have any' would not go unnoticed. Wasn't she the one glued to the ass of these two as if she had nowhere else to go? He just did not bother to honor her prod. There was only one thing a man could do in the midst of such a 'tragic' circumstance. He would find the end of the waist-tie and give the sash a tug. Where the cord cinched at his waist, the rope would come loose. He would wordlessly peel off his costume, it was 'useless' now and he would hand it over to the girl.

No worries adoring public, he was not going commando at the very least. In all his awkward teenage glory he would stand there for a moment before relinquishing his garb. "Take care of this with your next refreshment run for the boys won't you?" Yes, he was ordering her to do his laundry. next would probably be make me a sammich. She would have to do better than make him a bit soggy, at least Levi's date could back up her brawn but looking at this girl's noodle arms a slap would be an embarrassment. "Unless you want an eyeful you can't unsee, I would recommend keeping your balance for once." [PG 13 rules apply, so for the love of God]

TLDR: Mathias is in his skivvies and he expects Winnie to do his laundry.

Well, that was attention grabbing. Both of the teen's eyebrows raised as he watched his cousin peel from his pallid, awkward form his ballroom attire. A scene, they needed a scene not a family embarrassment. "Mathias!" He called out to the Slytherin, a tone of indignance. It was an exercise in futility truly, he was a being of excess. Not that it explained why he was wet in the first place, a tale for another day.

This would do, but --

He let out a sigh, he needed a sign that Hufflepuff has arrived. He would peer back towards the underworld, his target would be easy enough to find - he stood feet above his peers. He would see something, probably him he reasoned as he stomach did a backflip and his jaw tightened. Despite the internal apprehension that was swelling inside the youth, he did what he could to hide the sentiment with an expression of boredom or disinterest. He would see something move close to the ground out of the corner of his eye - his emotions were mixed overall. There was a sense of excitement and elation, relief that this long year would soon be over. There was also guilt and regret, not that either sentiment was powerful enough for him to stop would would soon come to pass. It was them or him and when given the choice he would always favor what was his.

Well, the least of evils. Destroy those that are worse than he.

There were some obvious targets, like her. Erin Ryan, resident crazy person. Not that he knew her personally despite the fact that they were distantly related like most purebloods. Her descent into madness was a rather public affair. Her claims of midget giants and death witches, she was of course onto something but that was the least of her problems. Yes, Hogwarts students were dying, dozens each year. That was what hags did, they ate children. It was natural, when there are less goats than expected look to the wolves, when the children go missing look to the hags.

Over the past few years there had been other incidents of interest -- these living dolls, actual part giants on a short-lived rampage, a dwindling population and children that slowly go mad. What was never asked was why. It was common knowledge that hags were exclusively women. The girl, yes the mad one, was undergoing the change. The change is where a human girl transforms into a hag when they turn sixteen. A fourth year like himself, her sweet sixteen was only a matter of months away. Not that she would live that long, she was inflected and the monster she would become would rip her apart from the inside. Her addled mind but the first symptom. Her exceptional beauty, rather a common occurrence here at Hogwarts with the unusually high part Veela population had faded. He had never seen the change first hand, but he had read about them. Most authors had not seen the change themselves either, it was for the most part varied speculation. This was history in the making for the young Ravenclaw, but his curiosity was overcome by a greater need.

She would not live to see her sixteenth year. Another hag would not be reborn. Besides, she had pretty blue eyes Victor would appreciate. Where was Quinn? A guarantee to set the girl off, her only partially misplaced fear of part giants gave her madness an air of predictability. She would get into a fight, lose and be escorted or carried off to the infirmary. His best opportunity, with Mathias making a scene he would be able depart after being seen. People remember what they want to, he might even be blamed for some of his cousin's shenanigans. He just needed a natural injury, some incident to predictably send her off to the medical wing.

Bits of broken lantern would litter the floor. Unmoving, victory was hers. They would never know the terrors she protected this school from. Her hands would scrape at the ground, her long yet unmanicured nails would peel away at the earth. While the girls flittered about she was playing in the dirt. She would glower as she looked down, she was well aware that she was not like the other girls. She had tried and failed miserably.

Jack looked like he was having a good time, with friends and a girl in a big puffy dress. Of course she had a big, puffy dress. They looked nice together, probably. She shook her head back and forth hard enough that it made her head hurt. She did not want to think or recall, there were some memories she would rather forfeit. The longing, the regret and the shame of it all. Even madness could not overcome a broken heart. Distract. Do something else. Think of other things. Back to the hole, the hole was important. The hole was life.

It was not much of a hole, more a shallow grave really. A ditch in the earth roughly carved with bent fingers, leaving a ridged floor. It was not much but it was something she made. It was something that was hers.

She would brush the broken bits of lamp into the shallow hole, no grave. Yes, she was giving it a funeral. Someone needed to even if they would be forgotten like the rest. "Should say a few words I guess," she muttered . Some guy had taken off his toga. Merlin, that was something she did not need to see. Look down, look away. Frankly boys (and girls) have really lost their appeal. "You were a fine lamp, you made things brighter than they otherwise would have been. Your light was put out just soon enough because you were super evil. Amen." Well, close enough. She was not the religious sort. She would push the dirt over the remains and slap it down with the palms of her hands.

Action: N/A

Mention: @Mathias Pride, @Winnie Harper & @Jack Burnett

So this was what the other side looked like. It was pretty, that was certain, but it was a place Xailah did not belong. She was better designed for the underworld- blended seamlessly with the atmosphere there. She had no intention of returning there however, unless intuition called her. She wanted to feel the warmth of the light, if only for a few fleeting minutes. The peppier area needed a little splotch of shade to balance things out anyways. Having just completed all- for virtually no reason other than curiosity- of the little games the organizers had set up, Xailah was ready to take her usual post at the ball. Unlike the past few events, where she had some sort of goal- a reason for going- this time she was here because... Well, she truthfully wasn't sure. Obligation she thought. Though maybe it had been something else. She subconsciously wanted to do something dangerous. She wanted that sweet rush of adrenaline. Why? One may ask.

The 'why' was still being figured out. Though a sufficient answer would have been addiction. A poor substitute for a quick fix. She was having trouble understanding what was wrong, and no one wanted to take the time to help her figure it out. In all fairness, she was great at hiding the wrong things. Mostly. Not really. She was just evasive. Xailahs arrival was a quiet one- hers always were. She would likely go unrecognized at first, given the unusual additions to her darkly fanciful ensemble. Flowers weren't her go-to. They weren't her thing- or so she thought- and yet she wore them in her hair, and on the bows that accessorized her person. Her wildly expressive tresses, had been tamed; pulled back into a modest and less telling updo.

It was like she was trying to be someone else, while still trying to maintain some sense of self. She was her, and yet, at the same time she wasn't. Her hands sported claws, weapons that made frequent appearances in her outfits. This time they were not hidden- less noticeable if anything. At a glance they just looked like simple accessories. Which they acted as, in a way. She was not looking to play around, or hide her intentions from others. Those sharp little bits of metal were a warning. However, the dress she wore seemed to contradict the caution reflected in the nail-pieces. The way the dark fabric constricted her figure in a sophisticated silhouette, proposed the idea of vulnerability. Do not be deceived.

The twinkling train of her dress collected the petals that had fallen from above, as she made her way across the grounds. She allowed the sheer cloth to drag along, until she came across a odd sight. There was a girl, tall, well built, blonde (hadn't it been indigo once?), quite pretty on the surface- ugly insides (...probably), but far more tolerable personality-wise than most in their year. The young lady likely had some watered down Veela heritage. The girls face was familiar. This was someone Xailah had gone to school with for four years. Someone she saw in detention on occasion. Not her detentions. She rarely handed those out. They were for the days she was feeling particularly sadistic. Erin Ryan was a face she had seen for four damn years, and yet, not once had she bothered to converse with the face. She really had no need to. The two fourth years simply coexisted. And Xailah was fine with that.

Though she couldn't help but stop, at a distance, and watch the young snake. The lass was barefoot, donning only sheet which was wrapped tightly around her middle. She seemed to be challenging one of the lights that lined the party grounds; interrogating the beams that shone through pinholes, and casted shapes on the grass. They're watching us, the girl would cry. Xailah approached the Slytherin; stopped at the blondes side. She could smell the faintest scent of butterbeer, radiating from the bottle that the snake carried. The only thing those lanterns were a danger to, were moths. And clumsy partygoers. Someone would be disturbed by Erins shouting, and would try to quiet the maddened child. Xailah would continue to observe, choosing to speak after the commotion had quieted. Erin was crazy. That was quite clear. But perhaps, there was some truth behind her ramblings. "Mayhaps you should watch for the ssshadows they cast." Xailah would murmur. Or don't cast. Maybe Erin would hear it. Maybe she wouldn't. The shadows around the school had been wrong as of late. Nothing else would be said to Erin. Xailahs wandering would be resumed, before she could witness the blondes further assault on the Deathwitch-light.

The metamorph would spy a figure, who was just strolling up the path. A floral-patterned dress hung over their form, hugged heir shoulders, and fell loose around their ankles. It took Xailah a moment to recognize the person in the dress. Actually, at a distance, she didn't fully recognize them- but she had a fairly good idea of who they were. She slid by the clique; and the (rather violent) dispute between Erin and her enemy The Lamp. Soon she was in poking distance of the flower-clad "stranger". A gloved hand went to her hip, and was left there to rest against a bed of black. "Meenauh?" Her voice rang clear, but uncertain. Is it Meenauh? Haven't seen her wear a dress like that before. She hadn't been expecting either of her friends to show, so Meenauhs entrance was indeed a surprise. Though, Xailah wasn't quite sure if she was supposed to be happy about it. Considering the how these events usually ended, she was finding herself to be very worried. Was Pericles here too?

|Interacting|
@Mathias Pride @Winnie Harper
|Mentioning|
@Erin Ryan @Jack Burnett @Nicholas McCowan @Jake Morris
|Open for Interaction|

All in all, Ruka hadn't exactly been able to complain about the way things were going. Things were being decently distracting, in an amusing sort of way. There was nothing particularly dramatic about the happenings up until the moment that Winnie decided to spill her drink on Jack's dorm mate. It had been funny for a moment, enough so that Ruka had almost carelessly taken a sip of the drink he'd gotten just moments before, though it didn't take long for the mood to shift as Pride graced everyone present with his almost bare physique by taking off his costume and handing it to Winnie as if she was some kind of maid. The action was enough even for Ruka to fail to acknowledge Jake's arrival to their little group, despite how much he would have normally wanted to compliment the young badger on his adorable costume. Jack would surely be able to take care of him for now.

So, maybe Winnie was sort of adorably psychopathic and Ruka had been ordering her around, but Pride did not seem to understand that Winnie was his adorable psychopath to order around, and nobody else's. "Thought you stuck up types all had your personal house elves to do your chores for you," he snapped in Mathias' direction, a look of disgust contorting his features. He took a step forward, creating distance between himself and Nicholas as if not necessarily wanting his fellow Gryffindor to see what was going on. "Or did you manage to revolt even them so much you have to resort to looking for human slaves?" Rolling his eyes, he turned to Winnie, eyeing the fabric in her arms. There was a wet spot where the drink had spilled, but enough dry fabric nonetheless. "Drop that, Winnie," he told the young Ravenclaw with a shake of his head. Not waiting for her to actually follow through on his request - she'd pick up on the Why soon enough - he lowered his torch to a part of dry fabric hanging down from the girl's arms. "Should take care of your own laundry if you don't want to risk it getting damaged."

Where his attention had been on Erin just a moment before, Ruka decided that this was a more prominent issue to deal with than someone burying lantern pieces in the ground, so he focused on directing his flame to Pride's costume, observing with keen interest if he could pinpoint the exact moment the fire would latch onto the fabric. If Winnie had dropped the rags by now, Ruka would lower his torch further to the ground, kicking the fabric into a good position so the flame would have a larger surface to catch onto.

If he did manage to set fire to the garb You said you can be bribed, Kaz, I'll give you anything you want Ruka would kick the withering pile of fabric in Mathias' direction with a smile before holding his drink out to the half naked Slytherin boy - dress code should really ban bare chests - as if to toast to his wellbeing. Unclothed as he was he could easily catch a cold.

|Action|
- Setting fire to Matt's clothes because how dare he try and order my stalker around
- Hopefully not burning Winnie. A lot.

|Stats and Abilities|
Stamina - 7 || Evasion - 9 || Strength - 4 || Wisdom - 12 || Arcane Power - 6 || Accuracy - 7

The Muggle Condition || Advanced Casting || Perfectionist

Lil Outfit Doodle

|Post Tracker|
1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6

Interacting| @Vladimir Athanatos |
Mentioning| @Mathias Pride | @Quin Healy | @Nico Shymane
Attire - Medusa
Action| N/A
Open to interactions

“Ah, Quinn. He is a hard one to miss; you will not need my help there. He’ll be with Nico, I am sure. She is less likely to be amicable to your presence. Quinn is a reasonable boy unless you hurt someone he cares about.” Quinn used to be more on the edge until he started getting help, something they had spoken about at length closer to the beginning of the year. In truth, Santario had been very proud of the steps he had taken to better himself. It was always good to see friends rise above and overcome.

Vladimir seemed to grow restless as he yelled at Matthias, and the truth is told, it was time for her to move on from this encounter herself, but not before some parting words. “I still plan on trying to figure out how to break these curses. Something I still think benefits you somehow. So, if you decide you remember anything that can help. I’m not hard to find.” This was hardly the place to continue the conversation, not if she didn’t want suspicious eavesdroppers and onlookers. She didn’t care if she was seen with Vladimir, but her business was her business and hardly anyone else’s.

If there was nothing further to gain from standing by his side, she would take her leave of him and start strolling about the ball on the edges. She would purposefully avoid any large groups for the time being unless someone grabbed her attention.

“Ah, Quinn. He is a hard one to miss; you will not need my help there. He’ll be with Nico, I am sure. She is less likely to be amicable to your presence. Quinn is a reasonable boy unless you hurt someone he cares about.”

"No need," he replied. "Healy is but a marker," he claimed. A rather good one honestly and while he would have loved to of had a conversation with the part giant as a relationship could have been mutually beneficial Santario's mention of a less-than-amicable date put a stopper in that. The name of course vaguely familiar, not that they had interfaced but Prefects hold a certain level of fame, not always acclaim. There was a thread of pride in the teen as he failed to admit the later - that he had intended to converse with the Hufflepuff Prefect before the casual-seeming warning. Rather he let it be said that the boy was unnecessary a truth with the unsaid erroneous conclusion that it always the plan. "Just avoid him," he warned without substantiation "for... a little while." The last part came out in a hardly audible whisper.

The part giant was a great many things others would covet - he was large and powerful, he had a position of power, authority and prestige being a Prefect and Quidditch Captain. He was the most logical target of attack.

Mathias was doing what he did best, accolades really. He had garnered the attention of several underclassmen, the ire of a few more. He was good at making himself the center of attention and he relished moments like this, they were simply feeding into him and his nascent need. An issue to deal with later frankly, there were greater quarrels to be had and fiends to vanquish. The lamp the sheet-clad girl was burying not among them.

“I still plan on trying to figure out how to break these curses. Something I still think benefits you somehow. So, if you decide you remember anything that can help. I’m not hard to find.”

"Can't break. Kill," he muttered in reply. She was leaving, she was gone. He would take one last glance around the Spring Festival and let out a sigh. He was not going to partake in the beverages that were likely laced but not for the reason of knowing that they were, but rather believing that they were - a distinction few would make. This was his best opportunity, a crime in plain sight.

"Miss..." he called out. "Miss?" He was standing over the jabbering young woman. When he garnered her attention he would get down on a single knee. It would have looked like a proposal had it not been that he was merely attempting to get down to her level. "Your... scars are showing," he claimed. "I believe I have seen you before. Class? I think you are my year in fact." A smile would eclipse only part of his face, it would never reach his eyes. They appeared sad. "Allow me to do you this one mercy -- what you seek is in the lake, not here." His words were low, not something over the din of chatter and part music could easily or rightfully overheard, this was intentional.

The Black Lake was large and in parts remote. It was an ideal location for a great many things. "I would show you where but I have done nothing to earn your trust," he lied, this was the manipulation of a trained liar. There were a number of questions to ask here but none he would be willing to answer as he attempted to stand erect once again.