The Arrival Tea Party Valentines 2025

_{Banner by Miss Haven Bohannon}

| Note: Thoughts, Speech, Matthew, Mother |

Nabi had been standing outside in the hallway, thinking of what Aamon had told her before he left without letting her correct him. Is his head so hollow he would assume that Mr. Campbell and I are an item? She did not understand where the young Aamon had thought such a thing. Nabi came back from inside her head when she heard the door to Matthew and the boy with blonde hair open, she looked up to see Matthew make his way toward her— also in thought before grabbing her arm. "Hey, you fancy heading to the afternoon tea thing I'm pretty sure I need some air." She looked at his face, her eyes narrowing in thought, as she let herself be pulled away; the evident redness from the strike the blonde boy had bestowed upon him and the dried tears from the pain. Oh goodness..., "I do not see why not... Matthew."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, part of her felt a slight anger and the other part felt...compassion? She did not understand why Matthew just accepted the hit, her lovely cousin would have lost her mind if she had been the one struck...

So why did he seem...calm? Something told her there was more to this story. His earlier screams did not hold rage or pain...

Boram had shown her an excellent example of such a thing over the years.

"Oh I'll survive, you know the Athanatos family, never a dull moment. Don't tell me you're going all soft Park" she hummed softly in response, a faint smile appearing on her face before saying calmly, "I would not even dream of such a thing."

Dreams are glimpses of one's hidden desires, compassion should not be one of them.

The sight of the garden was beautiful, pristine, and perfectly kept just like the rest of Beauxbatons. Not a single flaw in sight...good. She hummed, pleased by the careful care the school seemed to have, as her mother would say— It is all in the details.

Following Matthew, she glanced around, her eyes landing on Aamon— her heart fluttered momentarily. Have I gone mad? She shook her head gently, continuing to follow Matthew who seemed interested in the table of cakes and pastries. Nabi watched Matthew look for a sweet to enjoy, and she hummed softly— curious to see what he would choose from the variety. As the Pain au Chocolat was chosen she raised an eyebrow in thought, Pain au Chocolat, a classic.

The boy did appear to be one for emotions, and what better pastry than Pain au Chocolat to complete the "home-like" feeling?

Details could tell quite the story if one observed well enough.

Nabi glanced over the assortment of sweets, her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she thought. "I bet you know all the names to this stuff don't you. Think we can find a good place to people watch again or should we actually attempt to socialise?" she glanced over to Matthew, "And what if I told you I did not know all of the names to these sweets, Mr. Campbell?" she smiled slightly and glanced around for a place to sit, her smile faltering as she watched Aamon approach a girl. Nabi cleared her throat and looked back at the desserts, taking a strawberry macaron. "I am sure we can find a place to sit..." a small smile appeared on her face as she said in a teasing tone "attempting to socialize can be dangerous... besides I have something far more interesting to tell you. The people in attendance can wait, hm?"

Nabi looked over the selection of drinks offered, and then at Matthew, "I do not suppose you plan on passing down the pastry with nothing to drink, do you?" she began to hum softly to herself as she served herself a cup of Earl Gray tea— pouring the tea with practiced ease. She waited for Matthew to get something to drink before pulling his arm to a secluded table, and gently sitting down.

Nabi's gray eyes flickered to Aamon before looking down at her cup of tea. Her hand reached out to hold her cup and brought it to her lips to take a sip of tea. Pleased by the well-brewed tea she said in a low voice, "The young Athanatos thinks we are an item..."

Nabi chuckled softly watching his reaction to the news, she would hand him her handkerchief if the young Matthew accidentally choked on his drink or bread from the sudden revelation. The symbol of her family— neatly embroidered into the soft cotton. "I am unsure where he got such an assumption from..."

Merlin knows what goes on in that boy's head...

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Oh the beautiful land of the French. Hans was back in the Pyrenees attending another gathering.

Beautiful, he meant, as the tongue that gave him a headache, which was to say romantic with a hint of “we’re having all of these random letters just because L’Académie Française couldn’t wrap their heads around making a normal language”. But still, all of the words he had learnt and promptly forgotten could be damned because he was in Beauxbatons, for Valentine’s, awaiting the company none other than the most breathtaking girl in Scandinavia. Beautiful — Astrid was a destined target for the adjective.

God, she was so gorgeous today, as always. With the blood and fire of last year slipping away in a blissfuly respite as everything lost was steadily paved together once more, the more time Hans had to think about her to more enraptured he became in foolish, childish ways common in adolescence - and fuck, so be it. Everything was so damn perfect. The way her eyes sparkled. The flower in her hair. The smile that was prettier than any jewel could ever be. That humour. That sass. THAT DIMPLE. Oh my gosh…. He was getting carried away. Hearing Nikolai’s teasing despite his absence — authorised this time — a grin was suppressed then given in to as the tea party sprawled out in front of him, as if straight out of Alice in Wonderland. Had the Russian not been vacationing in Crete he would have loved it, not only the atmosphere but an opportunity for his relentless jabs as one hand reached upwards to shade the fresh spring sun while he rambled on eyes captivated by the blonde laughing in the distance. But Astrid wasn’t here yet, and neither was Nikolai, so Hans was braving this alone until he met Meiyu.

In the meantime, while butterflies fluttered in his stomach, the common solace of distraction was sought yet again. Eyes finally taken away from the scenery as they searched for other familiar faces in the crowd to no avail, Hans decided for a round table for two in the gardens, not so far that he would not be seen but with enough privacy amongst the statues. Grinning as he passed a myriad of people his age a first, good-natured comment accompanied with a smile but just enough polite indifference to hint at a simply friendly nature, “Oh, bonjour hello! The Hatter of this tea party, are we? The dress looks great.”

That was practice, he guessed. Except, God, how was he supposed to just compliment Astrid’s dress??

Right…. Getting carried away again. On the topic of attire, Hans was dressed in what one may call not his style. Of course, with such adaptability, that would be a foolish statement. After all, Otto had made sure the boy was well-equipped in every domain, and despite his reluctance, that included fashion. Unlike the usual hoodies and shirts he preferred (though some were brought just in case formal wear wasn't working out in his favour) for today’s special occasion was a suit. Those who have attended the previous celebration in France would recognise the colour scheme of red wool with golden lining and buttons, meant to make for attention amongst the duller counterparts of his peers, but more so because his grandfather had bought one to many during Christmas.

Sitting down at the selected table he opted out on the tea. Boba and fruit teas were fine sometimes, though he knew not to have too much of the unhealthy drink, but plain tea had always been bitter and herbal to a point of tasting more like medicine than a refreshment. Juice would have been better but he wasn’t about to start complaining about something as trivial when the excitement of the Ever since first learning the spell he had been itching to conjure flowers in one romantic gesture but that was the final trick up his sleeve for when the confession was to happen, each step planned as delicately as if he was firing missiles. For now, he simply leaned back and waited, and despite the content smile still playing at his lips for any passer-by’s, Hans, as it was in most cases, was not as relaxed as he would seem.

━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━

It was mid-February, but Saunders realised that winter was slowly fading here, and that the buds were ready to bloom, waiting to pierce the bosoms of the branches they clung to and burst out into the world. In London, he thought, the zinnias in the back garden of Napier Manor must surely still be in yellow. In the Pyrenees, however, people seemed to be gearing up to abandon all talk of winter. The horizon was high and dark, the colours so bright they were almost garish. For a moment, Saunders wondered whether the world around him was not a painted ornament glued to a piece of cardboard. He felt that if he touched this monumental spectacle with his finger, he would fall into a hole that would carry him straight into the bosom of nothingness. It was as if that nothingness would spill out of that hole like a flood and engulf his body.

France, in the imagination of those who knew of it, always conjured up sceneries of love, but of love in its most passionate, phoenix-like form that burned, scorched and eventually dissolved into ashes, of the kind of passion that was notorious for gnawing at the mind and heart, of a human touch that began gently, as if probing an ache, and quickly turned into an intimate embrace. Yet in spite of all this all-consuming passion, France was also the motherland of all glamourised images of a nobility hovering on the edge of phoniness. The young girl of the Revolution was both the honoured wife of a gentleman at the zenith of dandyism, sleeping in separate beds; and the summer lover of a charmer vagabond, whom she had not spend much time except for five or six passionate nights, consuming authenticity like a joint.

To what extent all these images were attractive to Saunders was unknown to everyone, including himself. But it was equally well known that the Napier boy's deep love of tea was completely beyond dispute. If, God forbid, the young snake land on his deathbed and someone should bring him water so that he would not appear before his god with a dry mouth, he would refuse and say, "At least let me fly to heaven with the taste of tea on my palate." The unconditional love that brought him here, however, was overshadowed by an anxious suspicion of how much the French understood about the art of brewing tea.

With a look as if pickiness had materialised and built his home in the boy's eyes, Saunders took a cup of tea generously offered by the French school of magic. With the first sip, it became clear that his deepest nightmares had not transpired, and Saunders set about enjoying his tea, which he discovered was rather drinkable. There were a few faces he recognised around. But they seemed to be engrossed in conversation with others. Saunders, to whom the idea of being a nuisance was as terrifying as a bogeyman, chose not to resort to his social skills for the time being. He retired to a corner of the large hall, cup in hand and his pinky raised, feeling perfectly at ease in his almost (nay, no need to be humble, his perfectly) princely attire.

sta • 6 | eva • 5 | str • 3 | wis • 5 | arc • 7 | acc • 9
Prodigal DADA Learner
[Special thanks to Aurelia for the beautiful banner!]
Open to interactions!

Meyra was convinced that this was one of the best days of her life. Even though she was someone who never let her emotions show, the reality was that she was very excited and happy to be there. There were countless reasons why she had decided to travel to France, from the opportunity to show her parents that she was now capable enough to be responsible, to the immense privilege of being able to visit Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

The architecture of the château was magnificent and beautiful, like something Meyra had only encountered in illustrations in novels or in photographs and magazine clippings. It was like entering one of those stories where princes and princesses are the main characters. From the artistically tended gardens, to the imposing statues, to the most romantic and hidden corners, everything her gaze landed on was elegant and almost surreal in its beauty. Without thinking twice, Meyra took the camera out of her enchanted shoulder bag and began to photograph everything she could considering that she had to keep walking and following the others to the dining chamber.

Upon arriving at the spacious and elegantly decorated room, her attention was immediately drawn to the ice heart-shaped statues and she couldn't go on without taking a picture of them. Placing the camera strap around her neck so that she could have both hands free, the young girl finally walked between the tables trying to find someone she knew, so she would decide where to sit. Unfortunately, the first person her eyes fell on was the person she least wanted to meet again. Nabi 'when-I-see-it-fit' Park. That Slytherin girl had been the most unpleasant acquaintance of her life, and that was nicest way to put it! The fact that they met while she was playing "La vie en rose" on the guitar only added to the irony.

With a sigh, Meyra put aside that vision feeling a little sorry for the boy who was sitting next to the devil and continued walking. There were already many people spread out across the various tables, most of whom she didn't know, many of whom were probably students from other schools in different parts of the world and she assumed the vast majority were Beauxbatons students. The background sound was a mix of soft music played by the orchestra and the sound of different languages ​​being spoken. Normally her heightened senses were sensitive to great commotion, but Meyra found herself enjoying that discordant melody.

Her gaze crossed the figure of a young boy @Harvey Barrows she had met a few months ago in the courtyard, if he looked at her, she would greet him with a polite nod of her head and a soft smile. But her footsteps didn't carried her towards the young Barrows, but to the red-haired boy sitting at the table behind his. "Denners!" She merrily greeted her friend who had his face buried in a croissant, "Didn't know you're coming! Mind if I sit?" She asked, as politeness required, but did not wait for an answer, as expected by etiquette, before pulling one of the chairs and sitting next to Dennis.

She took off the camera she was holding around her neck and placed it on the table as she looked at all the delicious sweets and delicacies in front of her. "This all looks delicious, how can anyone choose just one thing?" She asked before looking at Dennis' plate and giving a soft laugh, "Can you eat all of that?" She asked amusedly before serving herself with a cup of hot chamomile tea.

Stamina: 6| Evasion: 7| Strength: 7| Wisdom: 3| Arcane Power: 0| Accuracy: 7
Race: Werewolf

Date: February 12th 2025

There was a pleasant charm in the quips between them, the way that despite their differences neither took the other too seriously. Matthew was notoriously unserious but he rather felt Nabi needed that. Whatever her upbringing she clearly held a lot within, more of an observer to the world than a participator and while he was happy to share in the quiet solitude with her he took comfort in the knowledge that with him she at least had someone to voice to. Letting so much stay trapped inside was dangerous.

Mind flickering back to the confrontation in his cabin his stomach did a barrel roll flipping unsettlingly with the memory of it. There was too much confusion and mixed emotion to possibly derive meaning or sense so he would simply have to lose himself in the many gorgeous pastries of the French culture. Rolling his eyes as Nabi responded to his jest he smirked at her insolently saying, "Well Nabi if you don't stop calling me Mr Campbell I will ensure your face becomes finely acquainted with a whole array of them." For a fraction of a second the boy was convinced he had almost managed to break a laugh out of her but she remained as poised as ever offering him a gentle smile as she searched for a seat. The pink fluffy snack she picked up intrigued him and so he followed suit, perhaps he would always be a poor muggleborn but he could learn some culture while here at least.

Nabi made for an excellent distraction from his fractured mind as she revealed she had some kind of gossip to share intended for their ears only. When they settled at an out of the way table Matthew's eyes practically bulged at the sockets desperate for the reprieve of something simple and light to simmer the darkness from earlier. She had already made him wait having seemed incredulous to think he would possibly leave the refreshments without a beverage, and so with a tea in hand and the strange little pink delicacy they finally settled in for the drama. Matthew supposed he could tell her what had happened with Gideon but any of what he did understand he didn't wish to share and the rest was too much of a mind fuck to collaborate into a story. No they would instead focus on her news.

It was entirely the wrong time to have taken a unceremonious gulp of his tea for as the words settled in the air he felt the pressured burst of liquid shoot out from his mouth and nose utterly drenching the tablecloth beneath them in tea. Sputtering and near choking he coughed out the surprise throwing out some blanket apologies to anyone in the vicinity while accepting the girls gracious handkerchief "Je suis désolé", "Sorry choked." Stating the obvious given his words were still broken by the wheezing. Eyes wild with hysteria and mouth somewhere between an agape awestruck and wild grin he whispered, "What?-" giggles breaking free as he continued, "-Why the hell does he think that!"

As Nabi began to chuckle along he found his thumb rubbing at his temples with the sheer disbelief of it that mirrored in her own voice as she seemed equally unsure as to how he had possibly drawn this conclusion. Staring across the lavish setting he watched as Aamon sat with his own group and wondered if he had caught sight of the coughing fit. Turning back towards the girl beside him he couldn't help but laugh as his voice was ladened with humour, "That kid is utterly delusional." With the new information he felt his heart ever so slightly release the clamp it had placed upon itself, not everything about this day had to be serious after all. With breath managing to refill his lungs properly and his internal calm reaffirming itself he smiled genuinely at the girl, "Thanks Nabi I really needed that. I'm flattered of course too but I have no clue what has given him that idea. I'd promise you I haven't said anything to him but I think that was pretty clear from earlier."

As more people entered dressed in similarly fancy attire to Siobhan Matthew started to feel his grandpa sweater, wide leg jeans and crocs were a little casual but then he remembered a crucial component. He really couldn't care less.

Interacting with @Nabi Park
Mentioning: @Aamon Athanatos

Ability: Metamorphmagus

Interacting With: Open to Interactions!

Word Count: 228/200

OOC Notes: Reducio Speaking: b38900 Thinking: Italics

↜↝

Action/Stats: Reducio Action: Eating a macaron Stats: stamina: 6|evasion: 7|strength: 3|wisdom: 7| arcane power: 8|accuracy: 4

Interactions are open
@Della Barfield as Quentin Gagné
Interacting with @Dennis Tumberton as Maria, @Aamon Athanatos, @Harvey Barrows

sta 8☆eva 8☆str 7☆wis 9☆arc 7☆acc 8
Fearless✿Comprehend Languages (Parselmouth)✿Healing Sage

Date: February 12th 2025 Interacting: @Bubba McGarry Mentioning: @Matthew Campbell@Winnie Harper@Piérre Marchonné@Prat Pass

Speaking: #F33A6A Thoughts: #9F2B68 sta 6 | eva 8| str 7| STATS | wis 7 | arc 5 | acc 7|

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ "Love planted a rose and the world turned sweet" ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Abilities: Healing Sage & Charmer

Siobhan watched as a flow of students, staff, and international students began to enter the dining chamber. She felt her ever-present blush break out into a much deeper red as she realized she was the only one who had dressed up and she felt her confidence and enjoyment of her outfit shrinking the longer she watched everyone walk in with regular shirts, shorts or pants, and shoes. She felt like a bit of a fool as she sat there in her garden attire. She held her macron between her fingers as she looked at the treat. She'd thought she looked so proper and nice but it seemed that didn't matter.

She felt like a performing seal. Or some other fruitbat. Stupid, stupid stupid-

The honking from the daffodils of her hat began to feel as though they were laughing at her. She looked around and saw no familiar faces- hold on... She saw Matthew and perked up slightly knowing that he would talk to her and wouldn't think that she looked like a cymbal crashing monkey with her hat but watched as he ran off with someone she didn't know. She deflated slightly until the sharpness of a voice spooked her and caused her to knock her tea over. The cup fell to the floor and shattered, spilling tea across her lap and the table. Good gracious she wanted to sink into the floorboards and roll around in the dirt where she belonged for being such an embarrassment to the school.

"Oh no- I mean- Yes! Sorry- I- um- Sit if you please... I'm in such a frazzled state I'm sorry- Oh no..." She fussed to herself after she offered the seat next to her. She gathered the remains of her shattered teacup- the memories of her nana shattering with it. She pulled her wand out of her purse and gently cast a "Reparo" trying to fix it. She would be beside herself if she lost this item as it was so very precious to her.

"I apologize. I'm not normally so uncoordinated and discombobulated. I didn't spill any tea on you or your seat, did I? It would be such a waste of this delicious brew." Siobhan said as she cast a quick 'Scourgify' on both herself and the rest of the spilled tea across the table, the floor, and her purse. What an embarrassing mess. She smiled politely as she gathered her scattered mind and composed herself the way that most people normally acted when meeting someone new.

"I suppose if we're going to sit together, we should introduce ourselves. My name is Siobhan, I'm a second-year Gryffindor at Hogwarts." She said with a warm tone, her Irish accent peeling through the French air. She looked at what the boy was wearing and noticed that it was an American baseball team's logo. She was vaguely familiar with the sport as her brothers loved to play during the summer.

"Red Sox fan I suppose? My brothers were always fans of the Chicago Cubs. I don't know the difference but the sport is quite fun." She spoke as she poured herself a new cup of the jasmine-orange blend. The comforting scent sent a wonderful wave of comfort and ease into her body allowing her to relax from her earlier spaz attack. She needed to work on her easy spookability, especially if she was going to live for a week with Prat and her dueling captain, Piérre. The two of them seemed to be (in their regards) separate tornados which only looked as though they would crash into each other in their respective craziness before the week was over. She needed to prepare for the fact that she may or may not make it out of France without losing a secondary piece of her sanity.

But that was beside the point- She was out of the cabin to avoid the chaos that would be inflicted across the week. She was about to say something else when an elegant voice broke through and Siobhan saw a very beautiful upperclassman approach their table. Siobhan noticed that she was beautifully dressed in a pink summery dress that accented her red hair and pale skin. Siobhan smiled and had to stop herself from answering for her original companion even though she was hoping that this upperclassman would sit with them. Siobhan wanted to compliment her outfit and share in her excitement for garden party attire.

Action: Fixing her teacup and trying to not be an embarrassment to herself
Items:
- Teacup
- Wrist satchel
- Various rocks
- Wand

xxxxxxxx

It only took the very determined raven three minutes and twenty seconds to charm Alyss into letting her lend some clothes. "Pleasepleasepleaseplease" were the most persuasive arguments she employed in this long-winded process, along with strategically timed "COME ONN" and the occasional "pretty please?" Not to mention her secret weapon - irresistible puppy eyes paired with a sweet, hopeful smile. After a long plea, the judge gave its final verdict. Mission successful. Practically jumping in the air, Elena hugged her friend before rushing to the cabin's bedroom, her mind already plotting. Pink shades and white were an obligation, and they had to wear opposite combinations. After long minutes of searching, she finally dug out two adorable tops, a mix between pink coquette and lolita - thick knitted materials, with lace and little bows. She owned a pink and a cream one, and paired with cute skirts this might definitely be the cutest matching outfits ever ! "Do you own some kind of white skirt ?" she asked, turning towards her friend with an irrepressible childish grin. ౨ৎ ౨ৎ ౨ৎ She stepped onto the Beauxbatons grounds, her breath catching as the scenery slowly revealed itself to her marveled eyes. The air carried a scent of lavender, rose and freshly fallen snow, as the château rose before her, white walls glowing beneath the winter sunlight. Red paper hearts hung from the trees, while a Pegasus statue loomed over the entrance, wings spread as if it was about to take flight. Hedges whispered as they shifted into various shapes - flowers, animals, even silhouettes - ; a fountain trickled nearby, and a orchard of apricots and figs lay hidde within the maze of greenery. Turning to Alyss, she unconsciously grabbed her friend's arms, looping around it until their elbows met (words left me but i meant this). "It truly looks magnificient, don't you think ?" She asked, gazing around with a huge grin. Her friend looked as beautiful as the school - her brown eyes sparkling beneath the sun, its rays revealing the secret hues otherwise hidden. Her soft blonde locks gave her an even more angelic look, paired with the adorable clothes Elena forced gently suggested she wore. The two girls now looked like sister, a fact that pleased the raven very much. Elena wore a soft rose skirt, ruffled and laced, with a small bow resting on the side. She paired it with the cream-colored top she had dug out from her suitcase and matching cream-white boots. To complete the look, she added her favorite leg warmers, a delicate pink necklace, and pearl earrings. Even her bracelets followed the theme - one pink, one pearl. For the final touch, she styled her hair into a half-bun, securing it with a simple pink bow. Alyss wore the exact same outfit but with inverted colors - white skirt, pink top, white bow, and pink shoes. The snake she was currently dragging into the unknown had a unusal effect on her - she brought out the inner child long forgotten, swallowed by the sleepless nights and nightmares her childhood had witnessed. Normally calm and composed, the raven was known for her quiet, introverted nature. Others might find her peculiar or distant, yet there was always a lingering melancholy about her, something subtle but ever-present, like the soft glow of moonlight. Alyss felt like the sun's warmth on a frozen skin, a comforting feeling she could never chase away, tearing laughter from her throat and joyful tears from her eyes. Even now, she had pushed Elena to partake in a social gathering, something she would normally try her hardest to avoid. Biting her lower lip to muffle her excitement, the raven, tugged at her friend's arm, leading her inside the castle. "Come on !!"

xxxxxxxx