The Spring Soirée Spring Ball 2025

Interacting with: @Lyanna Oak, @Joseph Sims, @Mikey Foreville, and @Azzure Solace (please owl me for interactions!) Mentioning: N/A Date: 04/11/25

Word Count: 265

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"Of course. You just seemed like someone I can trust even though we've just met." Avery gave him a real smile. It was true. Something deep down inside of her knew that he was someone she could just. She was glad about that. Avery nodded in understanding as she listened to Mikey talk about how he didn't always fit in with everyone in his family. Avery had felt the same and still felt it whenever she was in London. In London, she had to be a completely different person. She had to be a posh pureblood daughter of a famous pureblood family. She couldn't stand it. All she wanted was to be free and roam the countryside of Wales where social status and whose daughter you were didn't matter. Avery blushed when Mikey said he was glad to be at the ball with her. She was too. She had never met anyone like him. "I'm glad too." She responded shyly as she tried to hide how much she was blushing. "I would love to be friends after the Soiree! Maybe we could hang out after Spring Break?" Avery asked. Hoping he would say yes. She really enjoyed his company and couldn't wait to get to know him. In the meantime, she had another idea. "Hey, I just had an idea! Do you want to get some snacks and drinks and meet my cousin and friends? Or, I saw that you were hanging out with another group that left for the garden. If you need to meet them, I'm good with that too." Avery smiled again.

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Date: 2025.04.11 xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Note: Thoughts, Speech, Russian, Korean, Aamon

"If any deities show up, I’ll just offer them some punch and tell them it’s too late... you already said yes." His words lingered in her mind as Nabi continued to look at him, I-, a tingling warmth ran across her face. Since when did the young Aamon become so... audacious? Her heart was beating, its rhythm like a wild horse galloping freely in the highlands. Oh Merlin...

He was affecting her more than she would ever admit.

May Aphrodite help her, for Nabi did not know how far he would affect her.

She felt the Athanatos stiffen as her hand held his arm; perhaps she was not the only one being affected. Being led toward the edge of the dancefloor, her gaze focused on the area in front of her. Other students were dancing, all in their own little worlds, when she suddenly felt a gaze on her. Nabi turned to look in the direction of the feeling, and her gray eyes landed on Matthew. Memories flooded her mind: their conversation during their journey back from Beauxbatons, the remorse for tainting her bed with ivy, and how she learned he was the reason for the unfortunate night. The silence in the carriage as she thought of what to do, what to say, how to react, while the young Matthew sat in hopes of her forgiveness.

Yet there she was, looking back at him.

Returning a small smile to him.

As if cut from the same cloth, Nabi found familiarity with the young boy. Even after the ivy, the silence, the betrayal, she had forgiven him in the carriage. Her gaze was soft while she continued to look back at Matthew, taking in his attire before raising an eyebrow as her small smile grew, oh those bloody shoes... I must take the boy clothes shopping.

Blasted cheddar cheese looking shoes.

She had begun to wonder if Matthew lied to her that the shoes were meant to look that way to avoid embarrassment for wearing broken shoes when she heard Aamon mutter. Nabi turned to look at him, watching as he looked over at something with a grin. She had not heard everything he said due to his tone sounding as if he was mildly constipated. Step on his own ego? What? As she continued to observe him, there was a fleeting moment when she could have sworn to have seen a glimpse of what lurked beneath the still water of the young Aamon, something... contradictory to his usual demeanor. Just as she was about to ask what he was grinning at, he looked back at her, and his soft demeanor returned, causing her to raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

Nabi still had much to learn about the young Aamon.

That would be evident when he seemed to have effortlessly shifted the air between them as he answered her, but her eyes narrowed slightly and it was not because of the sudden change. No.

Nabi had just witnessed a crack, a slip of the tongue. But had it been intentional?

The Athanatos had originally alleged having had dance instructors when he had asked her to be his date to the ball. The issue was that those alleged instructors he had said then were not the ones he had just told her, and his confident deceit struck her as odd. Just how much did she know him? Some children lie without thinking, often masking an insecurity. Yet Aamon's earnestness, which coated every word, did not hint at it being an insecurity.

Like honey, his words were sweet...

There was a saying her cousin once told her, but as she found herself attempting to remember, her mind drew a blank. Something about souls... shadows?.. no, "Runes." His voice brought her back from inside her mind, her gaze focusing on him as she blinked, "what?" She had forgotten her comment about the embroidery on the hem of his sleeves, her mind preoccupied with his reasons for lying to her. oh.. right.

Aamon began to ramble about the color he had originally planned on wearing, "Like the color of good decisions. Or ocean vibes. Or, like, blueberry pastries but classy." Pastries. Her eyebrow raised, Did he lie about that too? Nabi knew his story about sneaking pastries into his charms class was too good to be true.

But why did she hope he had spoken the truth?

Nabi looked at him, watching how his mind seemed to shut down momentarily, how his ears turned a shade of red, and his usual lopsided grin returned. Her eyes softened further in response and in that moment, for a short little moment, she hoped. Hoped for a reasonable explanation, but in the end they would just be...

Sweet little lies.

Nabi had not noticed a new song playing when she felt his hand hold hers, guiding her deeper into the dancefloor. A turmoil was brewing within her, hidden behind her soft eyes as she followed his lead, placing her free hand on his shoulder. The fabric of his coat was soft against her skin while his cologne engulfed her nose, reminding her of just how close she was to him. Her movements were gentle despite the tension that she felt in her arm, there was an almost delicate feeling to her as she moved. It was more than clear that Nabi knew well what she was doing while her gaze never left him. "I do not believe I have seen anyone dress with a design of runes before... I must say it is quite a choice. Did you choose the design?"

While they continued to dance, she felt her heart pound against her ribcage, and her voice came out soft "May I ask you a question, Mr. Athanatos?"

She felt her hands grow cold once again as she waited for him to answer before leaning in slightly, unsure of how to ask him. Taking a deep breath, she mentally prepared herself to ask the question that had been lingering in her mind with a pestering persistence. "Did you lie earlier?" Her voice was soft, a whisper of uncertainty in the thunderous great hall as people continued to dance, unaware of the sudden change of air between them. "Of the dance instructors you had..."

Was he really the butterfly with a broken wing she had seen him as when they first met?

Outfit

Reducio

Date: 11th April 2025

A simple, genuine smile faltered under the indifference it received in return. Aamon Athanatos' smug face returned his generosity with the level of arrogance from which he was raised, awareness was not one of his blessings and humility even less. Yet, Matthew was not above the shackles of arrogance either as he foolishly wondered for a second if the younger snake's position was taken simply as an act of revenge. Revoking the thought, begging it couldn't be true, he returned his gaze to the light smile of Ms Park. N0, Nabi was the staple of elegance and class. Revenge was incomparable to her draw, he was sure of it.

In direct comparison, meeting her eye his smile bolstered a little upon her return. Matthew had caused more damage than good and while her forgiveness supported his stance, holding him upright he knew there was still work to be done. Many, it seemed to the boy, looked at forgiveness as a one off act; an amends that could be solved by nothing more than the word sorry. Matthew knew otherwise. When something was broken you could patch it up with glue or tape but those layers eventually would weaken over time requiring more. Often times people simply replaced that which was broken seeing the damage as more effort than it was worth. Often times people replaced him knowing he was more effort than was worth.

Nabi was not one of these people. Despite his idiocy and his apparent inability to take wisdom into account of his decisions, he had chosen to forgive him and he would continue to give her reasons to. Matthew supposed that's what this act was, and even though every fibre of his being wished to tackle the daylight out of that privileged, pompous arse known as Aamon, he wouldn't. For his own feelings mattered little in relation to hers. Nabi was happy here dancing away in a pretty dress with a puzzle piece that matched. The wizarding world often felt like a puzzle to the boy and while it seemed like everyone else knew the image he was left scrambling to link pieces unaware of the overall design. Even worse, it seemed that no matter which arrangement he tried Matthew never seem to fit. Like a piece from another box mistakenly added in haste.

Surrounded by refined eloquence and students who never had to question whether they belonged flooded back in all the pain of the previous year. A pain he had hoped to have moved past. It was certainly true he had made more of himself this year, but much of that wasn't exactly held under positive light. As a student he excelled, but unfortunately that was the limit of his scope. With the handmade mushroom cap drooping ever so slightly as his shoulders sagged Matthew made for the exit. It would forever be true that he did not belong here, that he was an outsider and always would be. Thus perhaps he should simply stop trying. Those that cared about him may stick by but in the end only his academics would remain. It was all he really had.

The outfit around him was who he was and it was nothing in comparison. Matthew would never be draped in fineries, he wasn't moulded for the high life. Matthew was the earth itself not its riches. With heavy heart and head he began to take tentative steps towards the doorway settled in a new plan. Tonight would be a night for him, he would make use of the staff's busy schedule and take to the stars. Tonight he would pack his case in expectance of the one thing he could look forward to. Tonight he would prepare to go home. Tonight...

The sight of them drew every atom of oxygen straight out of his lungs collapsing his stomach inwards with sharp inhale. Losing himself in his mind he had been foolish enough to draw himself into the open. Foolish enough to step into a spotlight in which golden daggers could find him. The dark robes of blood velvet and black drew Matthew's focus and crept under his skin as if pricking the very blood within his veins. Linking the pairs outfits were golden threads signifying their wealth and status. With barely two steps between them Matthew was stuck in the crossfire of a most dangerously lethal combination. Taylor's warnings rang in his head like a skellet bell, marking him dead. Behind them was his escape all he needed was to survive. Yet the Russian could not have been more clear with him. To survive was to play, and Gideon Athanatos was not one to let a player leave the board now that he had him.

Trunk // || STA 6 | EVA 8 | STR 1 | WIS 9 | ARC 9 | ACC 9 ||
Abilities: Calming Presence, Prodigals DADA
Action: None

| Mentioning @Aamon Athanatos, @Nabi Park, @Gideon Athanatos & Taylor Athanatos |

MODERATION ROUND TWO

_{Image created using Bing AI.}

The ball continued with a bang, as one of the two lovebirds decided to let out any negative energy he was feeling and release on the remainder of the ball enjoyers. It was remarkable how well cast his metelojinx was, given how caught up he seemed to be, staring into his lovers eyes. The spell erupted from his wand, and he left behind a dark and thundering storm cloud. (@Colin McCoire)

The remaining guests would soon look up to see a stormy cloud ascending into the hall, soon dimming the fairy lights to a mere glow, and instead casting a shadow of doubt upon the entire ballroom. No lightning had descended to wreck havoc upon the students, but the looming threat was still very much there, as the entire room went from a nicely lit, decorated, and comfortable atmosphere to the unmistakable feeling of various water droplets slowly beginning to drip from the new rain cloud that hovered above the patrons, it’s twisted eyes awaiting the right moment for the arrival of it’s electric surprise.

The only other excitement happened to be yet another person chancing the drinks, deciding to snag something to relieve them of the parched mouth that seemed to be a normal occurrence. She wasn’t quite as lucky as many others, grabbing what appeared to be a spiked drink, one that would lead to tragedy. But would she notice in time to stop the occurrence? (@Xiomara Torres)

Rolls:
Owl or DM me about any mistakes you may find.

Reducio

Spring Soirée Ball Rolls, Round 2
Colin is casting metelojinx, WDC is 12 + 2(Aly’s LC) = 14
[d20 : 16] (+12) = 28, success

50% chance of Xiomara grabbing a spiked drink, (1 is spiked)
[d2 : 1] = 1, Xiomara’s drink is spiked

Xiomara’s resistance to the potion, DC 17
[d20 : 7] (+6) = 13, fail

Xiomara noticing her drink is spiked, WDC 14
[d20 : 16] (+8) = 24, success! The writer can choose to notice before or after drinking the spiked drink, and as to whether or not the resistance roll will come into effect.

10% chance for lightning(19-20)
[d20 : 6] = 6, does not proc

Reducio

_{Image generated by Bing AI.}

Upon entrance into The Spring Soirée, each player will receive a "dance card", a RP opportunity for players to engage with. Within the dance card, names of whom your character dances with must be recorded, beware of prying eyes should their names not be found within the dance card and they are dancing with your player, as this would be the most scandalous thing to do.

NOTE: The inclusion of dance cards is solely for a RP opportunity, you are not obliged to comply with this, but should you mention it, please ensure the character your character dances with, was included in the dance card.

OOC Information
Welcome to the Spring Soirée!

1. To participate, you must be indexed. If you are not indexed yet, please apply here.
2. Moderation will occur every week, or about 168 hours.
3. Your character is allowed one moderated action per round. Please specify your moderated action somewhere OOC in your post.

Reducio

Moderated actions are actions that require rolls, like casting a spell on someone, physically fighting (like punching) with someone, surprising someone, etc. Rolls are not needed for pre-decided or consented actions, like asking someone for a dance.

4. Please include your abilities and stats in each post you make.
5. There are two other threads that are part of the Spring Ball, The Garden of Eden and The Twisted Tavern. You can directly enter the other threads if you have signed up for The Twisted Tavern or wish to participate in the main event, The Spring Soirée, but if you have already posted here, please specify that you are leaving this thread for either one of the other two, as your character cannot be in two places at once.
6. Please follow all usual H.io rules.
7. Enjoy the ball!

[ april 11, 2025 ] .♥︎ .outfit

i=ii==

The boy - no, the young man - was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in dark red robes so impeccably tailored they likely cost more than one's entire potions kit. And now, thanks to her, his chest was adorned with a glittering, golden stain.

But it was his eyes that held her, the kind of gaze that stripped you bare and found you lacking. They bore into hers with an intensity that made her pulse jump.

“Well,” she drawled, inclining her head ever so slightly. “That’s one way to make an introduction.” Yet no casual remark could conceal the uncanny glint in those dusty blue pupils of hers. She could feel the air between them humming with dangerous energy, sharp and unpredictable. Isa held the stranger’s glare with unflinching defiance, even as the butterbeer continued its slow, sticky descent down the front of his robes that mirrored the tension thickening between them.

“Pity you’re below drinking age, I would have preferred if you spilt red wine instead; at least that matches the colour.”

“Red's overrated.” she said, flicking a glance at his stained robes. “Just like your sense of humor apparently.” However, despite her mocking words, Isa couldn't help but admit that this guy sure knew how to polish himself, making him looked like a somewhat narcissist. And it was quite... attractive, to say the least. If she was actually one of those girls who would swoon ridiculously over these types of men... No. Probably not the best to imagine such an image.

It was only then when she realised her neck ached - a dull throb at the base of her skull. She’d been staring up at him like some wide-eyed first-year struck dumb by a handsome face and a well-tailored robe. The thought alone was enough to make her jaw tighten. Merlin's beard. With gritted teeth, she rolled her shoulders back, tilting her chin just enough to reclaim some semblance of dignity.

[ hans ] @Archer Duncan . —— ♥︎

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They were few things that genuinely amused Viktoriya. Not that the girl was stern and unable to laugh, but her sense of humour seemed to be drastically different from her peers. A person stumbling on the ground would only earn a condescending sniffle, and she could not see the attraction for pranks and jokesters. It was perhaps due to Dmitry and his constant will to mock her, 'pranks' becoming just another word for outright humiliation, one she took sick pleasure in retaliate. No, laughter didn't came naturally to the young Petrovskaya. And yet, the sight of this toothpick sized boy dressed in a flowery gown, frowning and cursing almost got to her. Strong features, jet black hair, coffee brown eyes - all ridiculously exaggerated by his flowy wizard gown, woven with purple flowers. Viktoriya would have just go ahead and moved on if he hadn't decided to try and stand up for himself - comical, given his size. Crossing her arms, her lips curved slightly as he raised a finger. "Excuse me. Are you daft? It was you that has run into..." His tone was laced with venom, words spat out so carelessly her smile faltered, her frowned eyebrows the only thing remaining. "Daft ?" She took a step closer, glaring down. Every cell in her body yearned with release from the tension that had built over the hours (minutes) she had spent enduring this silly ball. "Wanna say that again, Дурак ?" = idiot (insult) Fight fight fight. How long was it since she threw a good punch ? And damn her forsaken father with his behave yourself, he shouldn't have sent her here in the first place. You don't teach someone how to fly and then lock them in a cage, and Viktoriya was certainly no obedient bird. Fingers already twitching with anticipation, she waited his next line, silently begging for an excuse. The way his eyes widened as they locked gaze sent a wave of disappointment in her entire body. Damn it. The subtle way his body straightened up, the sudden drop of his hand and the slight blush of his cheek would only mean one thing - he knew her name. She had often seen - and relished - this sudden switch at the galas her family held, the sudden hint of fear in the previously mocking gaze, the sudden understanding of why that girl was dressed like a knight, hand on the pommel of her sword. Yet that was in Russia, where the name Petrovskikh and its implications were well known. She genuinely hadn't expected her father's influence to stretch on the western side of Europe, let alone across the English Channel. To her disappointment, that meant she definitely couldn't act 'as carelessly as a newborn lamb' (cf. Mstislav), because a. that meant others at this ridiculous get together might know her as well, and b. he wasn't going to give her an excuse for becoming a punching ball now that he had recognised her. Not that she needed one. Mentally pinching the bridge of her nose, she glared at him with a raised eyebrow. Obviously I wasn't in the wrong, anyone who has eyes can see it. This ball was going to get longer and longer, she could only feel it. "I am," she sighed, shifting her weight on her other leg. Setting aside the innate disdain she felt for his person, she ran a quick analysis on his persona, and found nothing recognisable. Probably a pureblood nobody, as far as she was concerned. His name did nothing to help her. "Okay, and ?" She raised an eyebrow in response, barely nodding her head in response to his bow - the remains of hours of etiquette practice. Barrows, barrows, barrows... nope. Unknown. Maybe he would take a hint and move along ?

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Interacting with: @Lyanna Oak, @Joseph Sims, @Mikey Foreville, and @Azzure Solace (please owl me for interactions!) Mentioning: N/A Date: 04/11/25

Word Count: 299

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Avery nodded and smiled. It was nice to know someone that knew exactly how she was feeling. Very few people in her life had gone through what she had. She always loved it when she finally found someone else to talk to that actually understood how she felt instead of just trying to give her advice that she knew wouldn't work. Avery knew she would absolutely be talking a lot more to Mikey in the future about what was going on. Something about him really calmed her down and made her feel like she was worthy of still being alive. Avery accepted his hand with a big smile on her face. "Let's go then!" Avery said as they made their way towards the food tables. Avery stared at the food in front of her. She couldn't believe there were so many different foods and she had no idea what to get. There were many new foods that she didn't recognize from other places, but she was curious to try them all! Avery thought about what Mikey had said about being there for her. Her walls that she had kept high broke apart at that comment. She couldn't believe someone other than her family and best friend wanted to be there for her willingly. Something stirred within Avery that she didn't even recognize at this thought. "Thank you so much for being here tonight. We've only just met, but it feels like I've known you my entire life. You could have been doing anything other than hanging out with me like going with your friends, but I can't thank you enough for staying. I had no idea that I needed someone that understood what I was really going through until tonight." Avery smiled and gave Mikey's hand a light squeeze.

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