Blossom Ball - Underworld
How bizarre it was, to actually be helping someone. To look at someone else, only part-human though they may be, and genuinely try to give them an edge. It had been so long that it gave Kaegen an odd sense of deja vu when he clasped tea's hands, an odd sense of having been here, of having done this. But it wasn't enough to make him let go, or stop trying to help. Why would it? If he followed every terrifying inkling that crossed his cursed mind, where would he end up? Dead, probably. Instead, he just followed most of them.
"If you sound like you were, or are crying, you could use those tears on your hands instead, and make sure they are visible. Even a lightworlder should be able to put those clues together fairly quick. Be easier, too, although the crying voice would have to be believable.
Kaegen had cried so many times. Cried in the arms of his only friend, cried by himself when he lost his scarf, cried on the roof when he felt so alone he wanted to simply turn off the being that was Kaegen Deathmote. Flip a switch, cease to exist, never open his eyes again. He didn't want to die, that was something that would go against everything he was terrified of, everything that made him who he was. But he wanted to vanish, all the same.
"Eventually, that would be good. But for right now, we should just focus on shifting once. Getting over there at least once. Anchors are good for when we're better at this, but we need to be in the right reality when people start to die.
Kaegen was both beast and human, although neither side were conventional, or okay, or anything you would feel safe around, anything you would have an easy time understanding. The beast wanted to prepare for the storm, in that selim was right. But the human wanted more than that. The human wanted to kill that storm. There were pages upon pages in Kaegen's book discussing how to kill death, time, professors, natural disasters, things that should be unkillable for a boy of his age. But he would plan, and prepare, and he would succeed eventually. He would weather the storm, and then he would kill it.
It was easier to smile with a live demonstration, easy enough that Kaegen was able to pull off a slightly worse imitation of selim's own, lifting their mask so that tea could give feedback, before momentarily slipping into what looked to be a genuine smile. It wasn't pretty, or soft, it was still cracked and harsh and cold. But for a second, it looked as though the muscles had shifted, remembering an old habit, something they used to do for someone. Memories spiked into Kaegen's mind like an unwanted nail, and their eyes widened, pupils flaring with surprise, before fading back down as Kaegen tried another smile.
This one was okay enough to not warrant a redo, so Kaegen instead turned his attention more thoroughly to those around him.
"Yes, I suppose it only makes sense that they would figure out something was off eventually. The light may blind you but your other senses should be intact. And it's not as though this is the first time something like this has happened. If we get questioned, make sure to act as though it's new information though. Maybe add some shock."
Kaegen nodded along to the names, unsure of what they would look like, but reasonably confident that his other head would give him a headsup if any of them actually caught wind of either of them. He would keep track of his demons for the both of them, and tea or mushroom would reciprocate the courtesy. It would work.
"Good idea. I have not eaten, but I will have to watch some students eating for a while before I actually trust myself to join them. Magic is sometimes odorless, and if we make a mistake here, that may as well be- you know."
Realizing what selim was saying about the greyworlders was largely true, Kaegen decided to go along with the plan, and head towards the blossomball proper at a brisk pace, quiet footsteps moving with paniced purpose.
"Good call. Yes, we will make our way there, then. Deeper in, further along, until we can touch our goal with both hands."
Surprisingly confident, although shakily so. Confident that together, maybe, they could do a little more than survive.
"If you sound like you were, or are crying, you could use those tears on your hands instead, and make sure they are visible. Even a lightworlder should be able to put those clues together fairly quick. Be easier, too, although the crying voice would have to be believable.
Kaegen had cried so many times. Cried in the arms of his only friend, cried by himself when he lost his scarf, cried on the roof when he felt so alone he wanted to simply turn off the being that was Kaegen Deathmote. Flip a switch, cease to exist, never open his eyes again. He didn't want to die, that was something that would go against everything he was terrified of, everything that made him who he was. But he wanted to vanish, all the same.
"Eventually, that would be good. But for right now, we should just focus on shifting once. Getting over there at least once. Anchors are good for when we're better at this, but we need to be in the right reality when people start to die.
Kaegen was both beast and human, although neither side were conventional, or okay, or anything you would feel safe around, anything you would have an easy time understanding. The beast wanted to prepare for the storm, in that selim was right. But the human wanted more than that. The human wanted to kill that storm. There were pages upon pages in Kaegen's book discussing how to kill death, time, professors, natural disasters, things that should be unkillable for a boy of his age. But he would plan, and prepare, and he would succeed eventually. He would weather the storm, and then he would kill it.
It was easier to smile with a live demonstration, easy enough that Kaegen was able to pull off a slightly worse imitation of selim's own, lifting their mask so that tea could give feedback, before momentarily slipping into what looked to be a genuine smile. It wasn't pretty, or soft, it was still cracked and harsh and cold. But for a second, it looked as though the muscles had shifted, remembering an old habit, something they used to do for someone. Memories spiked into Kaegen's mind like an unwanted nail, and their eyes widened, pupils flaring with surprise, before fading back down as Kaegen tried another smile.
This one was okay enough to not warrant a redo, so Kaegen instead turned his attention more thoroughly to those around him.
"Yes, I suppose it only makes sense that they would figure out something was off eventually. The light may blind you but your other senses should be intact. And it's not as though this is the first time something like this has happened. If we get questioned, make sure to act as though it's new information though. Maybe add some shock."
Kaegen nodded along to the names, unsure of what they would look like, but reasonably confident that his other head would give him a headsup if any of them actually caught wind of either of them. He would keep track of his demons for the both of them, and tea or mushroom would reciprocate the courtesy. It would work.
"Good idea. I have not eaten, but I will have to watch some students eating for a while before I actually trust myself to join them. Magic is sometimes odorless, and if we make a mistake here, that may as well be- you know."
Realizing what selim was saying about the greyworlders was largely true, Kaegen decided to go along with the plan, and head towards the blossomball proper at a brisk pace, quiet footsteps moving with paniced purpose.
"Good call. Yes, we will make our way there, then. Deeper in, further along, until we can touch our goal with both hands."
Surprisingly confident, although shakily so. Confident that together, maybe, they could do a little more than survive.
Leaving thread, going to blossomball main thread with rabbit-crafter selim
Shade-Beacon, Master of the Castle of Avarice
Blossom Ball - Underworld
"Rabbits live close to death and when death comes closer than usual, thinking about survival leaves little room for anything else." - Watership Down
▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ ||~♟~|| ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁
Selim nodded along with Kaegen's suggestion, which made much more sense than putting it on his mask or in his eyes. Muscles slowly easing, he held to the dhampir's hand loosely, looking over the crowd to make sure no one was watching them.
Se the plan was to make connections. That was something Selim knew how to do if he really wanted to, it was something he understood. Of course, they would start small though, you always start small. If it wasn't subtle enough people would notice, after all.
He watched Kaegen's attempts at a smile, these ones were definitely better, and he nodded in approval. He didn't question the jolting reaction the dhampir gave after trying the first time, there was no need to dig into something he knew was likely tied to memories unwanted (or possibly wanted but also feared).
The comment on how they should at if questioned earned another nod from Selim. He could act, it was a bit hard to focus thanks to the clamouring voices he heard admits the crowd or the sound of a great beast snarling, but he'd manage.
Upon mentioning the possible odourless and tasteless options of poisons that could infect the food, Selim hummed in agreement. Those were tricky ones, his father had been forcing him to practice Mithridatism in an attempt to help him not fall to poisons that enemies could try to use on him, but nothing was foolproof.
The dhampir agreed to his plan, Selim nodded, "Into the fray."
"... I'm sure this will go well." Aku drawled sardonically.
▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ ||~♟~|| ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁
Actions:Exits with Kaegen the Death Slayer to the Spring Festival
Free Actions: Chatting with he local Dhampir Dungeon Dweller.
Reducio
Mentions: @Kaegen Deathmmote
Mentions: @Kaegen Deathmmote
Stats & Abilities:
____ ____ ____
2nd Year
/40
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 10
Strength: 5
Wisdom: 7
ArcPower: 3
Accuracy: 10
____ ____ ____
Abilities: Martial Artist, Evasive Maneuvers
"False Face must Hide what the Heart Doth Know." -Macbeth
S.F
Blossom Ball - Underworld
Interacting with: @Elena Jangleton
Open to other interactions!Pouring herself another glass of punch Adlai nodded her head along to Elena's statement as she took a sip. "I suppose so, then again it is a rather grand event for us students. If there weren't a little drama here and there I gather it wouldn't be as popular as it is." she said as she turned her gaze to where many students were looking as a fight seemingly began to break loose. Seeing a punch being thrown Adlai averted her gaze, not wanting to be pulled into the violence but also knowing it probably wasn't her place to intervene no matter how much she may want to.
"It is very worth it, despite its few...flaws." she said as she watched Elena press her glass against her own and then followed her gaze into the crowd. "You know, sometimes I forget just how many people attend our school. If anything, I wouldn't complain if it were just you and me with out the fuss of anyone else. Though, then again I'm sure we'd grow to miss the fuss..." she stated only to be brought out of her blurring train of thought by a smirk Adlai knew all too well.
"I've fancied one or two people, but I fail to see them here." She answered sheepishly as she looked down into her glass and took another sip. The taste of the punch feeling not as familiar as others she had tasted before.
Adlai Winifred Rod
Blossom Ball - Underworld
───────────────── ♛ ─────────────────BLOSSOM BALL 2021
Mentioning: N/A
Hex Color: #800000
───────────────── • ─────────────────
Well.
It was safe to say that Rafael D’Spacito had finally gone mad.
Fist-fighting full-fledged adults? That was dumb. Burning a voodoo doll? Probably not his smartest idea. Jumping on the back of a live vampyr mosp? Pretty fucking stupid, even for him – but, in hindsight, he supposed that such behavior wasn’t exactly uncharacteristic of himself. Alas, stupidity was probably an expectation of the young Captain at this point – so, perhaps he had been mad for longer than he cared to admit. You see, Rafael couldn’t exactly say with confidence that his former ball experiences had been all that positive. Oh, no. It was no astounding revelation to anyone that misfortune was a rather avid patron to the collective miserable existences of the Hogwarts’ Student Body. Rafael, in the least, fully expected something to go horribly, irreversibly wrong, predicted it, even – and yet, the child had found that his affliction towards such adversity had diminished significantly over his last two years at Hogwarts. Perhaps it was the ideology that he was going to die at some point in his life, and judging by the rate of his last few years at the school, he’d rather just get it over with sooner and spare his parents the heart attacks.
I bet this is what it feels like to live in New York, he couldn’t help but wonder with a huff of amusement. Dying’s not even scary anymore.
Hands tucked neatly in his pockets and demeanor relaxed, the Captain allowed his eyes to wander through the entrance of the courtyard, sharp orbs drinking in the scenes about them. The Underworld – or so it was called – was, despite its foreboding title, quite the pleasant atmosphere, its walls bereft of loud offending noises and light with the sounds of old and tittering piano pieces. The current piece, one of which the Captain was well-familiar with, being quite the musician himself. The calming atmosphere called to his senses like a siren to a wayward sailor, and he allowed it to captivate his senses, drawing him into its boundaries with sure and calculated steps. An exhale escaped his lips in that moment, and oddly enough, the Captain couldn’t bring himself to care about its departure, instead focusing on the tension slowly withdrawing from his shoulders, its whereabouts courtesy of his pesky common sense. He had been ignoring its calls for the greater part of the week, and his sentiments towards it hadn’t changed in the last few minutes. Perhaps he’d enjoy the night. Perhaps he’d find a girl – or a boy, even – and enjoy himself a dance. Perhaps he wouldn’t feel the irresistible desire to break someone’s nose, or fuck up someone’s night. Perhaps he could go to sleep at peace and satisfied with his evening.
In the midst of his idle wonderings, his long, nimble fingers found purchase within the lapels of his suit – tonight’s outfit took the form of a handsome blue tuxedo, complete with a starched white button-up and red tie. His hair, oddly enough, was that of a normal nude palette, for once – this being, a deep brown with choppy streaks of harsh blonde mixed haphazardly into his fringe. A befitting look on him, his mother had told him, a sympathy he had only partially shared with her. He certainly stuck out less, yes, and yet the colors mixed wonderfully with his skin and eyes, giving him a messy and intimidating aura. Tonight, it would do well to highlight his electric-blue contacts, visibly brilliant in his eyes, as well as the golden laurel resting gently upon his head – tonight, the Captain took the form of Zeus, the temperamental and egotistical God of the Sky.
[A figure in Greek mythology that he related to more than he would care to admit.]
In a normal situation, the young man may have found himself intrigued by such an ominous yet intriguing setting. He was certainly captivated, in the least – however, on a day such as this, there were more imminent activities to be seen to. After all, the Captain wasn’t risking his life for a dance.
Titles, vocal pretenses that carried heavy meanings and commanded great power – that’s why Rafael had come tonight. Of course, he’d seen the posters. Of course, he’d heard the mutterings. And, of damn course he was here tonight, to steal away another title to fuel his ever-growing sense of self-importance. Who better for the title of King, than the Gryffindor pretty-boy himself? This was, in the least, his very well-anticipated inference, courtesy of that silky voice whispering in his ear. His monster was back – this time, in the form of reason, a logic far more reliable than common sense. It didn’t take much convincing to get the Captain to compete, anyways. He liked to win – and he didn’t need a Quaffle to do it.
“Suppose it’s time to get started,” he muttered to himself, checking his watch. Right on schedule. “Now, to the first Trial – “
_____
10
_____
4
_____
9
_____
10
_____
2
_____
8
STATS & ABILITIES
Interception
Also, if the Quaffle is dropped for any reason, you would automatically (without it taking up an action) attempt another Quafflegrab. At present there would be no mid-round way to drop a quaffle due to the order of operations, however there will be certain effects in future patches that can cause this effect.Catch
With brooms that have the feature where an additional player may be caught (such as Bluebottle) where there is a stackable chance of failure with each additional person caught, there is no stacking failure chance for players with this ability.YEAR III AB
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
Blossom Ball - Underworld
Interacting with Arjan Oberoi @Serena Towers and Rudolf Novikov @Adam Harringtom.
Wearing a deep plum chiton and cloak and grape headpiece inspired by Dionysus.
[1] [2] [3]Listening to Arjan talk of his school with such pride made her envious. He was right; Hogwarts let physicality slip by in favour of core classes. After all this time, Phaedra briefly wondered why no one had thought to require swimming as an activity. Why, there was a lake just perfect for it, and miles of flat ground for jogging if water wasn't one's fancy. Instead, she’d only touched a school broom just a handful of times, and didn’t enjoy it enough to make a hobby out of. It didn't surprise her in the slightest that Arjan had. “Breakdancing? You’ll have to show me sometime.”
There was a break in the conversation as her date tipped back his head to drink. Phaedra took this pause as an opportunity to inform him of her own escapades and happenings, which, very much like Arjan, she did not mind doing. It seemed the two were rather more alike after all in their senses of self-importance. “Well, as for myself, I’m secretary for the school newspaper. Two years now, and I love it. Duelling too, except…” She waved that notion away with a hand. Some things were just better left unsaid. “Wow—you must have been really thirsty.”
Phaedra looked dubious as Arjan downed his goblet’s contents and set it back on the table. Without an acknowledgement, almost as if he weren’t even hearing her at all, he called out to someone else in the vicinity and moved to ditch their comfortable placing near the food and drink. Novikov? Who was that? Phaedra supported the hem of her chiton with a graceful lift as she followed Arjan through the crowds, his pace brisk before finally stopping near the stranger. It reminded her of attending dinners with her parents and how they would drag her along like their shadows to show off. At least this time it was much more palatable; just three teenagers getting to know one another completely on their own accord. Mostly.
After stepping to Arjan’s side, Phaedra graced the boy called “Novikov” with her most polite smile. It was easier to conclude that he was a Durmstrang student after seeing him in the flesh. She thought he looked like one; aloof. Tall. Plus, Arjan knew him, and to Phaedra’s knowledge, his name sounded Slavic. Unconcerned that he was wearing a similar shade of purple to hers, she was about to ask which country he was from—that was always exciting—until Arjan demanded her attention again.
“Alright,” she said, adjusting her headpiece. Phaedra didn’t particularly want to participate in the Trials, but Arjan had been kind enough to consider her preferences earlier, so returning the favour was the very least that she could do for her date. Not to mention, it was an excuse to do something, rather than stick around the drinks table conversing. “Queen Phaedra, huh? I like that. Have you come armed?” She’d instructed him to in the letters between them, more than familiar on how things worked whenever there was a party at Hogwarts. More than likely he did; what pure-blooded wizard wouldn’t? It was just better to ask than not. As for herself, the walnut wand had been secured into a holster on her lower leg. Hidden, yet quickly accessible.
Her concerns went ignored. If there was one thing that irritated her, it was being half-listened to, even if his predicament was the fault of an potion-imbued mind. “… Arjan? Arjan!” Phaedra watched with tense hands as the disoriented boy wandered around, his retreating form sinking further into the masses and out of view. She gave a heavy roll of her eyes. So much for that. Finding herself alone with Novikov, she deemed it futile to call out for Arjan’s attention again. Instead, her attention fell on her new acquaintance when he shuffled closer for an introduction.
"Hello. I'm...uh...Rudolf. Rudolf Novikov."
Huh. Maybe he wasn’t so aloof after all. In fact, he seemed friendly, yet hesitant, but Phaedra chalked it up to what may have been a language barrier. Probably. She didn’t think much of it. Fairly skilled in socialising herself, she merely picked up the pace. “Charmed. I’m Phaedra Stavrou. Fourth-year Hogwarts student.”
"Did you come with him? I'm sorry."
His bluntness came unexpectedly and Phaedra realised she couldn’t hold a straight face, try as she might. “That I did,” she said with a bit of a laugh. Apparently, Arjan had quite the reputation throughout a few regions. It was reassuring in its own weird way. “Arjan and I have known each other since childhood. I’d say he’s calmed down considerably since, actually.” At this, her slender hands moved to the rose she’d stuffed in her corsage, its red petals unfitting against the gold and white and purple on her person. “Unless you know something I don’t.”
As quick as their conversation began, it came to a hurried end. Rudolf sent her a curt nod before leaving in Arjan's direction. Phaedra’s smile wavered as soon as she was left alone, and taking a long look around her, she cursed whoever’s idea it was to make the place so gloomy. Goosebumps rose on her skin, much to her irritation, without Arjan beside her to steal body heat from. Wordlessly, she took her leave from the party after the boys. She hated the dark anyway.Action: Follow Arjan and Rudolf to the Trials.
STA: 7, EVA: 8, STR: 1, WIS: 15, ARC: 10, ACC: 10
Perfectionist, Perfectionist II, Spell Spread, Advanced Casting
Reducio
Blossom Ball - Underworld
OPEN TO INTERACTIONS
Interacting with:@Violet Carrington Anastasia Prokovdine
@Aurora Ranvier Rodion Macaroni
Mentioning: Violet Carrington
Action: Going to the Trials
─────────────
Luka Volkov
Koldovstoretz 1st year
The golden wolf
Russian / English
─────────────
At night,
in any places that you are
stars up there always
complain
for not being able to
outshine the light that
radiates from within you.
-Reza Rusandi-
─────────────ReducioOutfit
Luka kneeled beside Ana as she cried, doing his best to comfort her with his presence. When she stood, grasping something to throw at them, he held up his hand and spoke to her calmly in Russian. ”Ana, it’s me, Luka. It’s okay, Ana, you’re safe. Let me help, Ana.” He didn’t know if his words were reching her but whatever had come over Ana seemed to pass, leaving his friend to slowly recover. When she rather stubbornly declared that she wanted to leave he couldn’t really blame her. ”Whatever you want to do, Ana.” He replied with a nod, standing and moving to follow her pausing only briefly to look at Rodion as the other boy spoke.
The chaos that Rodion had brought with him had not ended nearly as harmlessly. The bruise on his face from his still-angry date was swelling up. “I think you should follow her.” He spoke and Luka just shook his head in disappointment. “I’ll make sure she’s safe. You should deal with your crazy date before someone else gets hurt.” Luka glanced at Violet briefly then turned and followed Ana toward the mysterious Trials. They sounded interesting enough even though he wasn’t interested in being any sort of King. Hopefully Ana wouldn’t get herself into any trouble doing them. Whatever had come over her?
ReducioCalming Presence Allies - Koldovstoretz Students
Don't confuse my attitude with my personality. My personality is who I am; my attitude depends on who you are.
Blossom Ball - Underworld
Entering thread from the Trial of Orpheus
Interacting with @Evelynn Decipio
Mentions @Phaedra Stavrou, Rudolf Novikov (@Adam Harringtom) and @Falentra Black
It had been some time since he foolishly left his wonderful date. Arjan walked back in with determination, searching the room for her after he had completed his trials. For the life of him, he could not recall why he forgot he had a date but... he had one, right? Stavrou. Yes. They were dating.
Wait, no, that did not sound right. She was his date. For this ball. Yes. That. He had to show her his breakdancing abilities, they had made a deal! He remembered now. She asked him to show him and he smirked (of course) and said he would be happy to oblige at any time. Then she started to talk about... uh. Something she was interested in. Sports? Did she say she did some sports? He pouted for a moment, trying to recall. Duelling. That was it and something about a newspaper. Reading newspapers, most likely. Yes. That made sense. What else would she do with newspapers? Hit people on the head with them? Pffft. She was too sweet for that!
Arjan ran his hand through his hair as he continued to search the area. She was around here, right? But alas, he could not see her. Wait -
Pausing for a moment, Arjan recalled seeing Novikov too. Was he with her? Wait, wait, wait, Novikov did not go and steal his date, right? That was against the bro code! He better not have! Then again, Phaedra would come running back if the choice was Arjan or... well, anyone. Arjan was obviously the superior choice to any other candidate. As he walked around, he failed to see either of the people he was talking to. They both seemed to have disappeared. Did they leave? Perhaps they went to the other party?
Maybe he should find someone else he knew. That Falentra Black chick might be around somewhere, no? He started to think of more positive thoughts but it was too late. A thought crept into his mind. A moment of silent reflection from what he had heard in the Orpheus trial. It could not be. The truth the voices said. Perhaps... they were... lies? That was... No. No. No no no no-
Almost walking into an auburn-haired female. A girl that was shorter than him. He blinked for a moment, taken back by the sudden intrusion - even though he was the one who almost walked into her space, rather than the other way around. She seemed lost in her thoughts or... he was not entirely sure what she was up to. But she was pretty, "Oh, my fair lady," He greeted her, "May I assist you somehow? You look lost. Do you need a map or are you happy to just get lost in my eyes?" He continued without necessarily waiting for any sort of response.
His entire demeanour changed almost instantaneously. The contemplative, taken back moment completely overshadowed and long forgotten now as his stance completely changed. He oozed his usual aura of confidence, the signature smirk on his lips and the twinkle in his eye. Yes. Those words just came out of his mouth. Yes, they were bad. But hey, no one can ever fault his confidence. He smirked as he looked at her with his beautiful hazel-brown eyes that were very easy to get lost in if he did say so himself. Flexing his muscle, he ran his hand through his hair again - intentionally flexing his arm as he did so.
Oh wait, he had a date right? Eh, well she disappeared on him first! Besides, this was just harmless. He might get a good new contact out of it, that was all that was really important here.
ACTION: Entering Underworld after Trials
Stamina: 15 | Evasion: 4 | Strength: 15 | Wisdom: 3 | Arcane Power: 7 | Accuracy: 10
Abilities: Obnoxiously Strong | The Martial Artist | Spell Spread | Charmer
Charmer Allies: Phaedra Stavrou, Falentra Black, Rudolf Novikov & Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky
Status: Smug again | Health: Full
PC: Serena Towers | iNPC: Arjan Oberoi | Other: Hjørdis Jensen & Xiomara Torres
Part-Goblin | Evasive Maneuvers | Beastmaster | Paragon of Health
Sta: 10 | Eva: 17 | Str: 3 | Wis: 15 | Arc Power: 10 | Acc: 15
Part-Goblin | Evasive Maneuvers | Beastmaster | Paragon of Health
Sta: 10 | Eva: 17 | Str: 3 | Wis: 15 | Arc Power: 10 | Acc: 15
Blossom Ball - Underworld
Aly Salinger had never been to a ball before. That was not to say she hadn't danced in her thirteen years of life- though it had often been alone in her room back home, a sort of combination of strange flapping of arms and kicking of feet to the beat of oldies tunes. But Aly had never properly attended a ball, with its fancy dresses and dress robes and, she imagined, flowers everywhere. (If that were true, it would truly be a dream for her.) She wasn't quite sure if there had been a Blossom Ball the previous year or not, but if there had been, her nose had been stuck in too many books to realize. So here she was, a second-year, attending her first true formal dance.
A mythological theme and the combination of the dance's title- Blossom Ball, an irresistible moniker for a lover of all things flora- had combined to inspire her outfit, though she had not created it herself; that had been the job of the family's house-elf back home, after a letter to her parents describing the image she had in her head upon parchment. The requested dress had arrived by owl post and had come out perfectly, with its soft, flowy fabric of periwinkle blue, the thin pleats of a gauzy skirt that could have passed for oddly-shaped wrinkles if one squinted enough, and the shawl-like, one-shoulder neckline, almost reminiscent of the collection of fabric upon one shoulder that Aly was quite sure a lot of togas had sported back in Ancient Greece. Her mother, Hesper, had sent along with it a few pieces of her own jewelry, as well as a new pair of sandals to go with the dress... for if there was one thing that Hesper Livingston-Salinger allowed herself to enjoy, it was dressing up her only child as though she were a little porcelain doll. The sandals were a medium shade of blue, only a few darker than the dress itself, thin golden chains holding them in place around Aly's feet and ankles; the accessories were that same shade of shimmering gold, two small bracelets and a single armband made of a thicker cuff with dangling chains that clinked together ever-so-lightly every time the Ravenclaw second-year moved about. Becca had sewn thin embroidered loops in a matching shade along the dress's neckline, pulling it all together.
But when Aly had tried it on for the first time a few days before in the Ravenclaw Alioth dormitory, something had just simply not felt right. Perhaps it was the lack of a hair style or clip or band, or perhaps it was the fact that her curls were too wild to try to tame back with any such thing. Or- or- or... maybe the issue was simply that the dress was not "Aly" enough, and only one thing could fix it: flowers. A quick forage around the Hogwarts grounds had provided a solid armful of florals in all different shapes, sizes, and colours, and the curly-haired girl had spent hours in front of a looking glass trying to figure out which of the plants worked best with her "look". It was a Blossom Ball, after all- who would Hogwarts' resident flower girl be if she did not show up in at least a few blossoms?
In the end, though Aly definitively preferred blue, it was a white bloom that turned out to be her savior. Long black stems and leaves sprouted gorgeous pale flowerets, each with four large petals and yellowish-gold anthers protruding wispily from the center, and though she had never seen them before other than here at Hogwarts, a quick bit of research in the library told her that they were moly flowers- apparently a potions ingredient in addition to a beautiful blossom. Either way, the golden interior's matching of her jewelry sealed the deal for her, and as Aly stepped into the dark courtyard that seemed more like a funeral than a joyful ball, anyone nearby could see the thick crown of white moly blooms nestled atop her messy brown curls. The single flower on her wrist, its black stem woven into the chains of the two golden bracelets gifted to her by her mother, was a bit more difficult to spot in the doom and gloom, but Aly fiddled nervously with its petals as she cautiously entered the Underworld.
Why is it so dark in here? Isn't this supposed to be a fun experience, instead of some sort of- of- death party? she wondered internally, trying her best not to pinch the bloom on her wrist out of nerves; the last thing Aly wanted was to bruise its lovely white petals, not when she had worked so hard just earlier to weave it carefully into her bracelet without breaking the stem. The quiet, somber music sent a shiver down her spine, and she quickly hurried through the courtyard with her sandals making small tip-tap sounds upon the cobblestone. Surely there was more to explore... right? And what was this she had heard about some sort of trials rewarded with a queenship? The Ravenclaw already had a crown, her little coronet of moly, but who was she to turn down some sort of adventure?WC: 876
Action: Heading to the Trials!
Interactions: Closed (since she's Trial bound)
Mentioning: n/a
STA: 6 // EVA: 6 // STR: 4 // WIS: 10 // ARCP: 7 // ACC: 7
Abilities: Charmer, Keeper's Catch
Font Colour: 1155Cc
Underworld Post x // Trial Posts // Spring Posts
OutfitReducio
drawn by yours truly
| Aly Salinger's ency |
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STA 10 | EVA 14 | STR 5 | WIS 19 | ARC 7 | ACC 18 Charmer • Keeper’s Catch • Paragon of Health • Lovely Creature • Foulplay • Keen Eye who's afraid of little old me? |
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Blossom Ball - Underworld
Graphic by Leonard OaksworthInteracting with: Arjan Oberoi - @Serena Towers & @Evelynn DecipioMarshal watched with expectant eyes as Evelynn took a draught from her cup, awaiting her verdict on the beverage within. But a verdict never came; his question drifted, listless, to join the muted tones of the surrounding atmosphere, never satisfied with an answer.
He refrained from posing another, allowing the silence to stretch between them while he took a sip of his own drink. Narrowing his eyes, he attempted to place the taste, but came to no conclusion before Eve addressed him, using his surname, as she took so much pleasure in doing. Frankly, the practice grated on his nerves, damaging the fantasy which he held so dear, in which she actually saw him as somebody close to her. The way he viewed it, two souls who shared a close bond should refer to one another by their given names, or perhaps even nicknames.
Therefore, the call of his attention saddened him, though that heartbreak was outweighed by the confusion he felt at her words.
He cocked his head, half a grin spreading uncertainly across his lips.
"The occasion," he replied, "Is the realization of my most cherished dreams, in which you are always at my side."
Again, he awaited some sort of response, anything to show that his voice hadn't vaulted straight over her head. But again, nothing of the sort came. She wasn't looking at him anymore; her gaze canvased the entire dance floor, visibly clouded by disorientation. She looked almost panicked, a sight that evoked a wave of concern within Marshal's chest.
"Evelynn, are you oka-"
The sentence had no chance to conclude before she was gone. He reached a hand out, but her arm - his intended target - pulled away in time to elude his gentle grasp. He watched in dismay as her form mingled with those which carried no significance, like the only splash of detail in a blurred painting. The colors swayed, carrying her further from where he stood alone, eyebrows creased in hurt and thoughtful contemplation.
All of the insecurities which had plagued him on the day he'd invited her here returned. He had worried that it was a mistake, that by asking her to be his date, he might destroy what semblance of friendship the girl held in association with him. He'd wondered if it was safer simply to let things remain the way they were.
Ultimately, he'd decided that no risk worth taking was ever easy, and asked her. Much to his delight and undeniable shock, the risk had seemingly paid off when she accepted. And yet, here he stood, watching her red hair swing as she approached someone - someone who wasn't him...
But there had to be an explanation. Something was clearly off about the way she was acting. Evelynn was always so observant, so calculated in everything she did; this behavior simply didn't fit, the scene like a misshapen puzzle piece that had no place in the image which displayed his perception of her. He had to find out what was happening - if Eve was okay.
Concern prevailing over anxiety, the boy took a large gulp from the goblet to loosen his tightened throat, before setting it on the table and striding in Evelynn's direction.
She passed in and out of view as people moved between them. He maneuvered through the crowd, lightly shoving any who failed to permit him passage, hazel eyes focused on the ginger shade that betrayed his date's presence.
With distance still separating them, the way cleared for a moment - brief, but long enough for him to see a giant collide with the red-head.
His vision was obscured once more, and he quickened his pace, determined to be there should any altercation occur.
The young Gryffindor grew near in time for an aggravatingly flirtatious comment to drift past his ears. His ire was wrought both by the fact that someone else was flirting with his date, and the equally disturbing fact that the comment was rather similar to something he might say at any given moment. He wouldn't let it stand.
Pushing past one last student, Marshal finally reached his destination, where Eve was being accosted by... again, a giant. The guy was obnoxiously large - larger, in fact, than he had any right to be. He was taller than Eve, who was taller than Marshal; yet another reality that didn't sit well with the boy.
From the smooth grin on his face, to the ridiculous muscle in his arms, the guy rubbed him the wrong way. Yes, there was at least one person who was unimpressed by that casual flex, and he found himself praying that he wasn't the only one.
He took a moment to steady himself, attempting to take the rational approach. If he were being honest with himself, the guy had done nothing wrong; not yet, at least. Evelynn had been alone when they had bumped into one another, and there was no conceivable way that anyone in their right mind would pass by an opportunity to draw her storm-ridden eye. It was precisely what he would have done - had done on multiple occasions.
Doing his utmost to assume the best, Marshal interjected before the conversation could progress.
"I won't fault you for your guns, my friend, but I think you'd best find another shooting range," he said, tilting his head back (Ugh) to address the stranger.
Even he was taken aback by his own words. He hadn't meant for the comment to come out quite so... antagonistic. And yet, the burning jealousy in his breast refuted the guilt which threatened to put out his fire.
He'd intended to start this whole thing with a level-headed, diplomatic air; he truly had. But the insecurity already crawling about within had mixed with discontent, serving as an effective fuel for the flames that licked his insides. Now he could only hope that this considerably larger human being had a temper slow as a turtle. A fight likely wouldn't go Marshal's way, but of course he wouldn't be seen backing down regardless.Action: Taking a drink. Fostering insecurity. Fostering jealousy. Releasing both in the general direction of Arjan.
Last edited by Marshal Mozor on 12 Jul 2021, 07:23, edited 1 time in total.
~Sometimes you have to laugh at yourself. It helps if you give yourself plenty of reasons~
STA ✩ 10 | EVA ✩ 10 | STR ✩ 14 | WIS ✩ 7 | ARC ✩ 6 | ACC ✩ 15
STA ✩ 10 | EVA ✩ 10 | STR ✩ 14 | WIS ✩ 7 | ARC ✩ 6 | ACC ✩ 15
Blossom Ball - Underworld
[font=Tempus Sans ITC]J[/font]ack had already lost interest in the whole party. Of course, he would immediately pop back to attention with a personable interaction. Sadly, after nodding his goodbyes to Quinn and Nico and giving a slight wave to his acquaintance Ileen, Jack would just stand there gazing into the abyss that is his mind. However, he was snapped out of his fantasy world by a rather rude statement about his choice of attire. How dare this kid insult his choice to dress in only a bedsheet. Rude. Why SHEET? Because Warren has a very particular brand. That brand is purposefully lazy, and Jack would let nobody talk trash about his brand.
[font=Tempus Sans ITC]"W[/font]hat do you mean 'WHY SHEET'. Sheet 'cause it's all I'm bothered to wear. Jaysus. Why are you judgin' me? It looks like you two idiots are tryin' ta' be extra's in The Outsiders?". (#StayGolden). Spinning his cap round on his head, the Hufflepuff prefect stomped his way over to the two, trying his best to keep his crocs from smacking on the floor loudly. Jack hadn't really seen the two kids around, but he could obviously tell that the larger one wasn't completely human. It wasn't that hard to deduce what exactly he was (Aside from a numbskull). "Look, mate, you can't go raggin' on me, when ya' look like you are tryin' ta be Pony Boy's brother or somethin'."
[font=Tempus Sans ITC]H[/font]onestly, Jack could understand a harsh reaction towards his lazy attire, but the large kid made him stop for a moment, "Mate, chill out, I wasn' gonna hurt your pal." the kid squinted at the strangely acting half-giant. Raising his hands into the air, Jack just shrugged with an absolutely befuddled look on his face. "Are you two drunk, or somethin'?"
About to fight @Galton Lansdale & @Hugh Lowe
"Speak softly and carry a big stick; You will go far"
-Teddy Roosevelt
Stamina- 7| Evasion- 17| Strength- 12| Wisdom- 5| Arcane power- 7| Accuracy- 10
Abilities: Fearless & Charmer