Happy Birthday, Winnie Harper Filled

Interacting| @Winnie Harper | @Mathias Pride Mentioning| -

Outfit Reducio

Open to Interactions

Note: It mentions that this thread is Open. So, I'll just be a random Puff noticing the group.

The wandering of the halls was something this Hufflepuff boy seemed to love. He leaned amongst the side of the walls that surrounded the corridors. The doors open wide, He was laughing to a small pun he heard from his friends, or rather, he read it in a book that was near his friends. Of course, he grabbed out his quill and ink, and, maybe it was vandalism, but he wanted to leave it where others could could view it and laugh at their own pleasure, if they were interested. Or if they thought it was funny.

Craig: Oh, lost guardian of time, what is the second part of the Levitation Spell?
When Guardian: Leviosa.

It was simple, but yet, if you actually pronounced the words a little different than most would, you'd understand how that joke could be funny, well. It wasn't much of a joke, than a pun.

Cody nodded, proceeding to the Great Hall. Isn't there usually students lingering around the tables? The youthful boy, clearly short, walked in and there seemed to be a birthday, or an event going on. Granted, it seemed to be two 'o' clock, and a girl, who clearly seemed to be of a higher year. She seemed to be amplifying her voice quite naturally, but cake? I WANT CAKE. Cody walked in, wished the girl a happy birthday and held out a plate to whoever was cutting the cake.

He gave a warm smile to the Ravenclaw, again, wishing her a happy birthday, maybe a little exaggerated. "Happy Birthday, dear uh- I'm afraid I don't know you. I hope you don't mind if I call you Ma'am for the time being?"

He tried again, giving a crooked smirk, "Ma'am, you have an amazing birthday. I'll just take my slice of cake, and go. If you don't want to see me anyways. Oh, I forgot to ask. What's your name, and your new age? I think my family, when I gained in age each year, playfully tackled me. But, its mainly just my mom, dad, and twin brother. I doubt you have to face that. Um, I'm sorry for uh- slowing down your birthday with my chatter." With that, the boy slinked out of the Great Hall, once again, waltzing down the corridors.

OUTFIT Reducio

Interactions [font=century gothic]@Winnie Harper @Santario Martin @Mathias Pride[/font]

GIFT Reducio

To say that Evelynn had been surprised to receive the invitation would be an understatement. Although not entirely estranged—the two had formally met over summer at the campfire stories—the second year Ravenclaw, Harper, could hardly be considered more than an acquaintance. Moreover, aside from Seilun's party in first year, Evelynn really hadn't received many—or any—birthday party invitation. Nor was it something she generally thought about. While her mother always made an effort to highlight her own anniversary of birth, rarely was there a party, per se. Instead, mother and daughter would make it a day of adventures, good food, and quality time at home once evening had settled. And since coming to Hogwarts, not once had she advertised her own birthday, or even celebrated it.

That said, aside from the sheer confusion and hint of skepticism, Evelynn couldn't deny that she was somewhat flattered to have made enough of an impression that the girl had thought to invite her. Although, she supposed it could be equally the case that the girl was lonely, craved attention away from home, and hadn't any friends to call on. Yes, she decided. That seemed more reasonable an explanation to drive a young girl to invite peers she hardly knew; and seniors outside of her own House at that. It became almost a sense of responsibility, then, that Evelynn should attend to ensure the girl felt at home in the castle.

Having recently opted to take over a fashion-related column in the Headliner that would soon be seeing its debut, the decision had been made that in addition to talking the talk, she would have to walk the walk. And what better way to tease at what was to come than to make oneself a canvas. Besides, as she had also more consciously emphasized through her second article series, image—while perhaps not everything—was significant in all societies. And what could possibly be better paired than fashion and etiquette? As a result, on the afternoon of the event, Evelynn had taken great care in preparing herself and ensuring that the gift she had selected followed in a similarly suitable presentation. This was her first "event" of the year, and she intended to make a subtle impression, especially considering the host was relatively unknown, and that meant the guests were likely to be entirely blank social slates.

* * *

Hair combed and smoothed back into a sleek knot at the base of her neck, Evelynn arrived precisely on time to the party at the Great Hall. It seemed she wasn't the first. A boy she vaguely recognized as Slytherin from an excursion with Flash to the dungeons was already there. The two hadn't formally met yet, but that would soon be rectified. She recognized Martin as well which brought with it a wave of comfort. The two had been friendly—insofar as she was concerned, anyway—acquaintances for some time now, and the summer camp as well as Martin's recent appointment to prefect had only served to solidify their variable connections.

Chin parallel to the floor, the lioness made her entrance with smooth strides and a demure smile on an otherwise fairly neutral countenance. She wore what could only be described as textile art. Black, white, and nature inspired brown print were blocked in geometric patterns across a semi-form fitting asymmetric tunic dress. A white collar climbed high up her neck, balanced by the white cuffs at her wrists. On her feet, she wore her typical knee-high leather and buckled riding boots. And in one hand, she grasped the handles of a large sparkling salmon gift bag.

"Miss Harper," she smiled on approach, unable to help her growing pleasure as the display of birthday decor and figures alike made themselves more apparent. "You look positively delightful," came the compliment.

And she really did. The light pink with sheer overlay and strawberry print evoked summer afternoons with fresh fruit and the beating rays of the sun. Plus. It was perfect for what Evelynn had chosen for a gift. Perhaps too perfect, really. At the very least, if there had been any reservations about her choice, that uncertainty had been cleanly and fully blown away. Feeling slightly smug, she tidily lowered the gift bag to the table next to the others that were beginning to collect, then closed the distance to Miss Harper, and leaned in to the right to give her an air kiss, left cheek to left cheek.

"A most happy of birthdays, and may God bless you for many more," Evelynn wished her on withdrawal. Then, turning to the others in attendance.

To Santario, she offered a bow of her head and a "Good afternoon, Martin," dropping the prefix to denote some level of familiarity. "A pleasure, as always." She wanted to inquire about how the start of her school year had gone, as well as the state of the Vipers for the upcoming duelling season, but other introductions took priority.

Diverting her attention instead to the boy beside Miss Harper, offered her hand for a shake. "Is that right that you selected the flowers there?" She inquired curiously, briefly flicking her attention towards the extravagant bouquet. "I couldn't help overhear Miss Martin's comment. They really are quite lovely, and with a fall-inspired palette, no less. Well done," she agreed with a smile. "I'm Decipio. Evelynn Decipio."

☁ Interacting ☁
@Winnie Harper, @Mathias Pride, @Santario Martin, & @Evelynn Decipio

☁ Open to Interactions ☁

Willow was quite excited to attend a birthday party at the Great Hall. Somewhere more protected probably than anywhere else in the castle. There was little that could go wrong here, surely. At least in the hag department. As someone who had attended a few birthday parties at Hogwarts she knew that drama was bound to slowly work its way in through sparkly bows and happy conversations.

The young badger dressed up, of course, as much as she saw fit for a young girls birthday. Corduroy overalls over a mesh galaxy long sleeve with black boots and a gold sun belt, and magically colored changed hair to match. You really couldn't go wrong. Ever since she learned the hair coloring charm, muggle hair dye just didn't have the same appeal for her. After spending most of her time in 2nd year with pink hair she started to miss the blonde but sometimes dabbled in other others when she saw fit.

In her arms she carried a squishy object wrapped in brown paper (held together by the gluing charm) and tied up with twine. Where the twine intersected there was a simple white envelope with Willow's scrawl that had the to and for written out. Inside the envelope there was a card wishing her happy birthday where when she opened it a friendship bracelet would fall out. One that was similar in design except for swapped colors already graced Willow's right wrist that was full of them. Within the delicate wrapping was a hand knitted pillow that she furiously worked away at as soon as she heard Winnie's birthday was coming up. While it matched the girl's house colors, it also was a reminder of the way they first met and sealed their bond together. Curled up and crying within mounds of blankets and pillows.

There was a little bit of nervousness that resided in her stomach as she didn't know who was attending the party. It would be easy for the girl to make friends, she was a Hufflepuff, but that didn't mean she didn't appreciate the comfort of those that she knew. Her worries were quickly squashed though as she only saw one face that wasn't familiar at all. A sudden bounce in her step she leaped over to the group of people and took in the scene. "Winnie this looks amazing! Happy birthday!" She set the present down where it seemed appropriate and wrapped the birthday girl up in a hug if allowed before moving to give San one as well. She tensed, but she always did. Willow was determined to melt the trepidation eventually.

"Hi San~ and Evelynn~ Its been a little bit since I've seen you both." Especially Evelynn. She knew the girl from Quidditch, but not much else. Their personal interactions had been basically nonexistent. San however, she was a little closer with. She attended Willow's birthday in her first year and now they were duelling captains and prefects together. Well, not like together because they were in different houses but close enough. She turned to the unfamiliar face, having completely missed the conversation about flowers. "I'm guessing you're Winnie's boyfriend? And if not... uh... oops! But in my defense I had no idea what you were supposed to look like. Either way, I'm Willow. A third year Hufflepuff." She extended her hand for a polite handshake. If it wasn't taken she would settle it down by her side.

Eventually she settled into the spot at the table, easily sliding into a idle state of making a flower chain like Winnie was doing to settle upon her head. She was attentive to the conversation around her, and would greet anyone that approached her with a bright smile even if they were unfamiliar.

☁ Presents ☁

Reducio

The bracelet is blue with bronze flowers

☁ Outfit Reference ☁

Reducio

Hair changed using the Color Changing Charm
It is also a couple inches past her shoulders

Interacting With: @Winnie Harper and everyone else currently in the thread | Dialogue Hex: #143314

Outfit Description:

Reducio

Never quite understanding the meaning of casual, Leonard sports a notch-lapel suit in a deep maroon shade, closer to black or brown than its purple or red origins. Underneath, a black dress shirt tucked in his trousers has, undoubtedly, been ironed past the point of ever possibly being crumpled. Polished loafers are his chosen footwear, and last but not least, his Prada eyebags complete the look.

In the complete truth Leonard had wholly devoted himself to avoiding, he didn’t have many friends per se, in his slightly modified definition of the noun. He was in possession of several acquaintances, of the stray recognition for a classmate, and of many more rivals he shared a mutual hobby with in their joint efforts to chop each other’s heads off twice over, but a friend was somewhere outside of those circles. A friend, a tolerable companion with a bond of liking between them that mayhaps sometimes joined him on fun little escapades, was horribly hard to find, which was in no small part due to the fact he had spent the better portion of the last few years asserting that he wasn’t looking to find any. Of course, adolescence had not allowed for any such clarity in his outlook on the topic, and he was left wondering whether his loneliness was some reward for any undefined act of goodness he’d done at some point in time or a punishment for any of the very much defined acts of wickedness he’d done at many points in time.

Another complete truth he’d rather feigned to avoid voicing was that of his treatment towards birthdays. It wasn’t as though he held a furious grudge towards the concept of celebrating a life anniversary, and he hadn’t gone out of his way to raze villages and set various forests on fire in protest of a tradition thousands of times older than he was. Still, he didn’t see its true function other than a flimsy excuse to hold a social gathering. There was also the historical function of warding away evil spirits, but that didn’t serve him any use at this point.

There was a new truth to be discovered, however, after he’d read a note from someone he didn’t quite believe he could shove into one of his social boxes. Two new truths, actually, with the first raising questions future Leonard would be losing sleep over for the next century and the second likely making his poor father start losing the beauty sleep aforementioned father so proclaimed his love for in between a meticulous skin care routine. The first, brought about directly by the invitation and its redheaded giver, was that in spite of his heart having roughly the same size as a prematurely born flobberworm, he couldn’t refuse a request for his presence, inexplicable as it was. The second, an indirect sort of revelation, was that in spite of his pretentiously abundant financial prudence, he was soon to bankrupt his family business with how many times he’d asked for bribes in food form. Merlin, he’d better have asked for an official sponsorship by the time O.W.L.s came about.

The boy walked into the Great Hall with as fluid and relaxed motions as Madam Malkin’s modeling mannequins, his posture of a wooden plank easing the most microscopic bit when he found his poetic peer standing amongst an impressive display of baking and gardening prowess. He was a bit disappointed to find that he arrived later than four, possibly five if that blonde he’d passed on his way to the location had briefly visited the scene too, people, but hopefully he could shrug it off. It was a proper waste of hope, seeing as the only thing he could shrug off were his responsibilities. Still, his entire existence could be known as a proper waste of hope, a legacy he’d found nought to argue against when he forewent any proper reintroduction and instead confidently made his latest work of composition known to the world, and more importantly, the girl who’d sat with him at the lake to make hers known to a complete stranger.

“You know, there is a strong chance I may regret this, but, erm…”

He cleared his throat and brought out a folded piece of parchment that had conspicuously and suspiciously present blots of ink in many of the places where writing had been. His rehearsals in the reflection had better paid off, he didn’t have questionable nightmares about his thick skull being thwacked by Emily Dickinson for nothing.

“The entirely errantly enigmatic smiles of afar,
The loveliest embodiment of all things bizarre,
Approached at the lake, and left with knowledge of a new star,
Peculiar and perfect, that is what you are.”

By the time he was finished, his sheepish smile had morphed into a shaking wreck of an expression. After a short pause where he could only stare at the birthday girl with fear scrawled all over his face, he spoke again.

“Well, that was awful,” he muttered, silently lamenting his discarding of the first twenty-seven drafts. He might as well have recited the alphabet and called it a day for all the emotion invoked in his prose. What had the theme been, anyhow? He was basically saying she was weird with some duct tape in the form of pretty adjectives slapped haphazardly on it, being banished from ever writing again and exile to the farthest corners of the desert would be a generous offer with that horrid stanza.

It was with the wise words of his supposed five-year-old self that he was saved from immediate doom, gaze turning back. Cake was always the answer, after all. Even marginally melted chocolate cake with a tiny cacao heart in the middle completely depressed into the icing could be the answer, after all.

A small exclamation of ‘oh!’ could be heard as he rushed to unwrap the pink paper hiding the box within, as if he’d forgotten. Perhaps he kind of sort of maybe did forget in his petrifying panic, to an extent, but that was no matter. After a few clean slices through the folds, a proficiency brought about by his unbreakable habit of opening Christmas presents weeks away from the occasion, he unveiled the baked good. Really, it was the only thing good about his two-part gift.

“Oaksworth Bakery original, this is.” He placed the box on the table and tapped it, hoping none of the other guests present would manifest the spirit of spiteful bloggers and start insulting the cake’s craftsmanship. The smile somewhat returned, he continued. “You may claim your delightful companionship coupon to all our best pastries at any time.”

The young snake turned to face the aforementioned other guests, all looking as though they were somewhere around his year. One sat near Winnie’s position, a boy with dark auburn hair Leonard could vaguely recall as a fellow snake, perhaps even a fellow member of his dormitory. Seeing as he couldn’t recall any illegal incidents involving the other boy’s presence, though, he would put off harsh judgement for another time. Besides, someone with such assumed taste in flowers couldn’t be the worst person on the planet.

The other three were more or less strangers, and made him feel more or less a little underdressed. Perhaps if he would have more time to examine all their features he could figure out if they had participated in any of the sardonic school sports or attended the fabulously frightful festivities that had taken place in prior years, but he figured that if Winnie liked their company, they’d at least be amusing.

“I’m Leonard Oaksworth, happy to be here.” He offered a stilted wave and a quick establishment of his identity to nobody in particular, standing guard near the ocean of pink cupcakes. “Did everyone else here get an invitation, or had it been the announcement at breakfast that you were persuaded to the party?”

The fact that an ear-splitting screech barely drew a second thought from Nicholas was a surefire sign of the failing state of wizarding education in the United Kingdom, moreover, it was a much more worrying sign of how swiftly he had grown accustomed to such displays. It seemed that the pandemic of acting like banshee had spread from Ranvier to one of her housemates, a Ravenclaw in his year that Nicholas knew by sight but not by name. It also seemed that another illness, although one no less irritating had also permeated through Ravenclaw Tower, that of assuming that the student body at large cared in the slightest as to when one’s birthday was.

Nicholas’s mouth twitched with annoyance at the announcement, the taste of orange juice in his mouth suddenly made all the more bitter by the distasteful emotion. Some people had such a sick desire to be the centre of attention, didn’t they? A smattering of self-awareness threatened to rise to the forefront of his mind, his own selfish ambition to stand out briefly flirting with the idea of making itself known to his conscious mind before it retreated to the dark recesses from whence it had come. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was to attend a party with people he didn’t know, especially when such people likely spent most of their time screeching to one another about the finest types of tropical birds they could imitate. Yet, there was opportunity.

A chance to plant further seeds for the reputation he was trying so desperately to cultivate, to naught but failure thus far. Moreover, there was also a chance to eat cake.

X

Two o’clock came and so did Nicholas McCowan, having returned to the great hall, answering the siren’s call. The nervousness that threatened to tear apart his very being at what he was doing could not be allowed to show upon his face, and thus he refused to allow it to do so. It was borderline stupidity what he was doing, a pointless attempt at rebellion, creating enemies from nothing. And for what? To try to paint himself as some sort of bad guy, some sort of tough as nails character when in truth he was anything but? Why on Earth had he ever taken the advice he had received at the conclusion of his first year on board? Why had he elected to follow it so faithfully? A brief flash of fear flicked across his eyes, his tongue licked at the back of his teeth, before he steeled it. There was no turning back now, he was doing it.

Immediately, upon seeing just how underdressed he felt, fear and worry of what he was doing were replaced by another emotion, one much darker and rather toxic. He was sickened. The same pterodactyl girl from earlier had dressed up as if attempting to imitate a princess from a fairytale, all pink and saccharine tones of faux-femininity, desperate attempts to draw attention. The presents that her guests had brought were of equal opulence, a bouquet of flowers in a crystal vase, bags and boxes adorned as if appropriate for a wedding reception, and not for a haphazardly thrown together birthday party. Vivid memories of pureblood functions he had attended as a child in Belfast poured into Nicholas’s mind, one in particular sat at the forefront, in vivid colour. The forced smile of his mother as pointed barbs danced through the air around her. The pretentiousness of it all, the sheer audacity.

For his part, Nicholas was dressed in much the same way that he always was. Old jeans, a size too small so that they sat above his ankles and clung to his legs uncomfortably. A white t-shirt without any form of fanfare adorned his chest, a brown flannel overshirt that had once sat above it had been tied around his waist. Yet, it was the muddy desert boots that completed the ensemble.

Yet, it could never be easy, could it? Nicholas recognised at least a few of the overdressed ensemble. Namely, he had built a decent rapport with Leonard on the trip to the Summer Camp, and had engaged in a semi-friendly rivalry with Decipio through a number of games of truth or dare. Martin, as well, he held a degree of respect for. Not only for the fact that she had knocked him flat on his arse multiple times in his first and only duel, but in that he actually found himself quite liking her sense of fashion. Was he really about to actively try to make an absolute donkey’s behind out of himself and potentially spoil those fledgling relationships?

Yes, yes he was.

Wordlessly, he approached the Ravenclaw table, not bothering to look at the girl who had so eagerly announced the birthday as a celebration of herself. He had arrived empty handed, but he had little intention of keeping it that way. With purposeful steps, he walked directly toward the centre of the table, where the cupcakes had been placed. Keeping his face carefully neutral, breaking the facade only with a sly wink to Leonard who had perched himself by the cakes, he grabbed one of the confections and took to eating it on the spot.

With a lazy wave he marked a semi-hearted thanks to the birthday girl, before speaking between bites, “Happy birthday, Red.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before he spoke, in for a knut, in for a galleon, “You’re much better at baking than you are at public speaking, I’ll give you that. Thanks for the invite, yeah?”

The words felt unnatural coming out his mouth, but he supposed that was the way of things, was it not? Still, it was something, and it was probably all he could bring himself to do. A small victory in attempting to build his ability to prove he didn’t care, when in actuality it was very much the opposite.

Assuming all went to plan, all that was left to do was to take another cupcake, thereby double-parking himself, and to leave the hall with his spoils. A small gain for a small venture.

"Well, thanks again for the cake, sorry I didn't get the memo about it being dress-up, my dearest apologies."

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Winnie Harper & everyone else to an extent
Action: Crashing a party, being a wee bit of a prat, eating cupcakes, attempting to leave if not stopped

Her hair is lavender

Banner made by Winnie Harper

Mentioning Mathias

Interacting with @Winnie Harper, @Nicholas McCowan

Birthday. Why do people still celebrate one year closer to their death? The idea to throw a party over a day of someone’s birth was quite perplexing. And the age thing was also a mystery for the girl. Were people supposed to be nine month old already when they were born? So there should be an addition ‘and nine month’ in every candle that was being sold out there. Truthfully, Aurora did not hate anyone’s birthday party per se, it was just making her melancholy side appear out of nowhere, remembering that only one person in Hogwarts wished her a happy birthday. Nothing new, of course. Each year was always the same. It almost sounded ungrateful, but then she thought about those who have no one. One is always better than zero.

Today was her dormmate’s special day. Not just an ordinary person, she was Winnie Harper. The one who showed so much affection towards her, literally the only person who had no flaws except her taste in boys. Mathilda. Being her ‘boyfriend’ he must be invited as well. In the last couple of days, despite her gift preparation for the redhead girl, she had been meditating every morning which allegedly could control her emotion. Though it was hard when most people around are annoying as hell. Totally would not be her fault if her fist touched their jaws, or maybe some pepper sprays here and there. Winnie, on the other hand, would be heartbroken to witness such a thing. The scene on the great lake should not happen ever again, especially not in front of the hopeless romantic kid herself.

But of course, being a person full of ideas and solutions that usually won’t work but hopefully it will work this time, Aurora might know some ways to be a makeshift. A pink earmuff and her father’s hufflepuff scarf were placed around her neck, and would be useful to wear throughout the party as long as that zero pride guy is present. With a white t-shirt, green midi dress, and a white pair of shoes, she ran to the great hall as she cast the hair colour changing spell. There was no mirror, thus, her choice of colour for today was slightly unmatched with her outfit. It was lavender. But who cares?

As the face of the birthday girl entered her field of view, along with the other both familiar and unknown faces, her voice echoed through the great hall. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY WINNIEBERRY!'' Then she stopped once Winnie was in her close proximity. “These are for you!” On her hand, a slug painted canvas bag was shown in front of the strawberry girl’s face. It was not the neatest painting anyone had ever seen, but it was clear that the girl tried so hard to make it perfect. The effort was there. “I think I have to explain what I got for you right now because I might not be able to hear nor see anything after this because-“ Slowly leaning into Winnie’s ear, whispering words after words of explanation, “-If I see or hear your boy’s voice I will be very mad and I don’t want to ruin your day today.”

Bless those who are on Aurora’s nice list. Her friendship is pure, will never ask for anything in return, but in every good thing there are bad ones. And we shall not talk about that here. A genuine smile was on her face as she talked about what she had prepared for her friend. “Okay, so this is a bag, I painted it myself, but don’t wash it because I think the water will ruin the drawing.” Her hand reached out for something that looked like a necklace. It was a simple tied rope with a white flowery rectangular thing as the pendant. “Inside, I have this for you, I collected some flowers around Hogwarts, then melted some candles, and made a little necklace out of it.” She put it back inside and started to show Winnie her next gift. This time, it was definitely bigger than the previous one. A glass jar with some rainbow stars inside, and there was a label outside that said ‘Maybe I could bring back your smile?’ The first three were handmade and cost zero money, but she hoped they would have some worth in Winnie’s eyes. “Then, I have this jar, um- so- whenever you feel sad, and you don’t feel like talking to anyone, you can open one of the stars inside, and I wrote something that hopefully will make you smile.”

───────────────────────── Reducio ─────────────────────────

Who is Aurora without her pepper spray? Of course she would give the people close to her one of her weapons so they could defend themselves from the creeps. “Next, I am giving you three travel size pepper sprays, just because.” And here came the last gift. Honestly, the girl was a bit reluctant to show the redhead the glass she had with her the whole time but never used it. And after the last triple ‘date’, the text written at the bottom of the glass reminded her of that sick and twisted boyfriend of Winnie. Such a suspicious boy. “And the last one, is this uh- glass, but only use it whenever you drink something from your boy, it is a reminder from me to you.”

───────────────────────────── ─────────────────────────────

Quickly putting the bag with its content on Winnie’s lap, she flopped down on the chair, further away from the love of Winnie’s life, and- Wait a minute. Is it Nicholas or are my eyes playing tricks on me? Such a regret to not wearing her best clothes and nice hair colour, or at least to make them match and compliment each other. With her mouth opened and closed a couple times like a fish, contemplated between greeting him or just ignoring his angelic presence. So she just smiled and did a tiny awkward wave, and proceeded to do what she intended to do. “That’s it, now it is my time to use these things so I don’t fight anyone today.” The scarf was now covering her eyes, as well as the earmuff on her ear. At this point, nothing could possibly bother her.

Sta - 5 | Eva - 8 | Str - 5 Wis - 8 | Arc - 4 | Acc - 10 Terrible Presence Evasive Maneuvers

Outfit Reducio

Mentions Everyone
Interactions @Winnie Harper & @Willow Anderson, non-dialogue tagged below
shirt | gift | tl;dr below

On the morning of September 25th, the kindled sunrise called his sweetheart’s name as she called her own in a complex harmony like singing in a round, cradled by the echo of the Great Hall. Autumn kissed the air, and she kissed herself, waiting patiently on the other side of the summer’s blind barrier. It buckled, all at once, at the same time as Winnie stepped down from the grand table, dancing in the winds of attention as her lifeless, copper frame often did. August’s harsh tint was quickly subdued, drowned in the slanting light of the school year’s humble start, and the first cool breeze of this refreshing beginning would not be one Levi let her forget. She was the coming of the new season.

There was, admittedly, a silver prick when he’d realized his hand delivered invitation had changed palms, likely to that of another waxen boy that liked to play games. In that second, the brunet realized his work had truly fluttered away with the evaporating residue of green, heat, and humidity—their song could be anyone’s, the stories an untouched fairytale, the poetry was but the ramblings of a child with a dream, dazed and without sense and sensibility. Still, Winnie had lilted to the blackest crevices and valleys of the hall all about her yearning, the welts in her flesh from too many hours just shy of the spotlight, and who was Levi to stay tanning beneath its glow? His skin would eventually tire and rest, melt away, and the redheaded girl would see what it shielded, or worse, what it didn’t. Yet, someone needed to ask: who was she to lull him into the therapeutic, pellucid waters only to let shipwreck tow him under?

Morning shriveled and pooled into the afternoon, and still the universe denied his question. The hours lapsed slow, each counted tick and tock stitching another filmy layer to warm his cold-hearted assumptions. Nothing would be enough, it wasn’t the kind of fever he could sweat out, and Levi would nevertheless be bringing pure gold bullets to nickel silver’s gunfight. With the golden flakes of daylight pouring in the window, illuminating the dust that swirled in its wake, Levi stood buttoning his shirt and gliding his hands along the seams with a knowing grin creeping up his lips. It was quite the sight to see; a young boy, no taller than five feet, dressed in the debris of a sewing kit from a past life, smiling like he knew something you didn’t.

If there was a neatly tied, boldly colored bow atop his head, splitting the dark hairs from one another and forming a breeding ground for a tousled mess, well, then he’d have been a gift in himself. Winnie, he was certain, would be rapt that the boy she’d forgotten to love still pined after her on slow days, chased her down the hole as his personal white rabbit in spite of the serrated gaze from her boyfriend. She’d be flattered, in awe, perhaps tinged a deep red once she saw the lengths he went for her, the various seas he’d swim if it meant Percematt’s value depreciated. Regardless, it was in bad taste to make his inflamed ego so obvious, so he’d crated it in a light pink box wrapped in a crimson mesh ribbon. A very befitting cage for custom-made affection.

A crowd had already gathered in the Great Hall by the time Levi arrived fashionably late. Matt, of course, who was likely hauled in on his leash a yard behind Winnie herself. The Mop he’d embraced for a few heartbeats too long over the summer’s barbed edge. The Slytherin with severed tethers from the Ink Accident last year. Santario. As sublime as she’d ever been, the dark side of Winnie’s moon, a walking invitation to crawl into a corner and let the shadows carve you a feminine silhouette of entrancing loneliness. Quite a few others fraternized in celebration of his bunny: a charming red-headed girl with warped air around her, a girl with astral hair that could be bottled sunshine, and one he recognized from the ball, likely lugging pepper spray in her socks.

As expected, they matched. The pink, strawberry adorned shirt was not completely apart from his usual sense of style paired with pants of the same color, as it was a fruit-themed button up before it was a ploy to find the twinkle in her eyes. It just so happened to be Winnie’s favorite and precisely the luster scene she would launch the world into on a day which was choreographed for everything she loved. Purity and poetry had thrown up on this section of the hall, based upon the treats on the table and the bunch of wildflowers she braided into a tiara. Levi reached out, gently nudging her shoulder to steal her attention from the other guests.

“Bunny,” He whispered, having held his breath so the nickname was enamored and short-winded. “Happy birthday. I haven’t seen you in quite some time, I hope my being here doesn’t discomfort you. To be perfectly honest, I was unable to resist the chance to give this to you,” He extended the small box forward, though would be evasive if she tried to take it from him.

“Ah, never mind this wait, I can’t resist.” He pulled at the mesh ribbon himself, and it unraveled gracefully, falling over either side of his palm to allow him to lift the lid from the case, revealing a heart-shaped sapphire pendant on a silver chain. As the boy raised it from the box, the chain rose like a waking serpent, shining and reflecting the shimmer in her gaze. Upon setting the box down, Levi would gently take Winnie’s shoulders and turn her around, bringing the necklace around her and clasping it. “This has been in my mother’s family for a few generations, my great-grandmother was also born in September.” A total lie, but no one could disprove it. Or, perhaps it wasn’t, to some extent—he did not actually care enough to know when his great-grandmother’s birthday had been. Even so, his voice was soft, composed for her ears only in this exchange. “I knew it would look lovely on you.”

With this, he offered a curt nod to Percematt [@Mathias Pride] and bowed away from the birthday girl, wary of the possible outburst this would provoke. Santario’s grim eyes were a pair he would diligently avoid, as there was doubtfully much time left before she began to recall his face all too well for their benefit. The red-headed girl—recognizable as a star and prefect of Gryffindor [@Evelynn Decipio]—would get a charismatic, borderline flirtatious beam from Levi, the boy’s personalized version of a rushed introduction before he dove from the splash zone. That face, that method of carrying herself, it was something he’d be sure to remember, and this hopefully would not be the only mark of their knowing each other. He came to settle next to the interstellar ray of sunshine weaving her own crown of daisies, unconsciously rubbing his knuckles as he popped her bubble of peace. “That’s very pretty, do you make those often? It’s well-suited for you.”

Permission to lightly godmod Winnie accepting his gift/letting him put it on was granted.