Closed Girls' Night! PV Circinus Girls

One moment, Dee was peacefully curled up with a blanket on one of the canvas chairs scattered around the tent, leafing through a potions book, her hand with a chocolate muffin halfway to her mouth, the next Aly was kicking the boys out of their tent and taking charge of her night.

"Uh." With Aly's finger pointed threateningly in her direction, Dee froze like a dee-r in the headlights, mouth full of muffin and suddenly very conscious of the crumbs strewn all over her blanket, hair in a messy bun. (There was chocolate smudged on her face, too.) She'd made the glow up comment at Aly's birthday months ago, more joke than serious, but she should have known that Aly wouldn't forget, and would make true on it, whether Dee wanted her to or not. Which was just as well - Aly knew things about makeup, and about hair, and Dee, who only ever wore eyeliner when someone else put it on for her, didn't know much about either. While she wanted to say that messy hair was part of her charm, her hair and face were definitely in better hands with Aly.

Thankfully, by the time her best mate had finished bullying the other girls into her plans (Dee knew Aly too well to think that this was spontaneous - she'd been planning it, clear as the night sky above them), the dark-haired Ravenclaw had managed to regain some of her composure. And was pulling up her blanket over her head to hide said messy hair in it. "Aly, the dance is tomorrow," she reminded her slightly overzealous best friend, blanket pulled tight around her face and tucked under her chin. "Are you saying you're going to need twenty-four hours to get me ready to be seen in public? Do I get to sleep tonight? Will I still recognise myself after? What in Merlin's name are you planning to do to me?" Dee was clearly enjoying herself, delivering the speech with an increasing theatricality from word to word, laughter shining from her eyes.

Sliding down farther into her seat, her gaze jumped to the other girls. "I'm scared," she whispered loudly to Rebecca. "Run while you still can. It's too late for me, but maybe you can still save yourself. Although," she wiggled a bit to get more comfortable, slouched down as she was, and winked sunnily at her best friend, "Aly does have pretty great curls, she probably knows what she's talking about. Perhaps get that hair advice, then run."

She did sit up then, the blanket slipping down and pooling around her, eyes trailing over Evelynn to Winnie, suddenly thoughtful. Maybe they did need this girly girls' night. Aly was pretty smart about these things. So she finally climbed out of her chair, and started dragging some of the mats, blankets, and pillows into a pile closer to the fire. Two chairs followed, then a bar of chocolate and a few packaged chocolate frogs from her personal collection landed somewhere in the pillow pile before Dee let herself flop down onto her blanket and pulled up the hood of her dad's old jumper. "Let's get this party started, eh?"

Charming you right back ❤︎

⋄ Banner made by Aly Salinger ⋄
⋄ August 1st, 2024; 20:00 | London Quidditch Stadium: Circinus Tent ⋄
⋄ Interactions: @Aly Salinger & @Dealla Prince | Mentions: @Pericles Dralt, @Evelynn Decipio, & @Winnie Harper ⋄

Rebecca Lark was not a girls' girl.

It wasn't so much that she was a boys' girl, but rather that most traditionally feminine activities required a lot of sitting in a circle and giggling, and Bex wanted to move. She had places to be, things to see, and innumerable objects to hit with her beater's bat so that she could feel alive. Sitting still had never been her strong suit, let alone sitting with still her thoughts. Like the very inaccurate mythos of the shark, Bex would almost certainly die if she were ever to stop moving.

Pear had let slip a few days prior that he knew how to fence, and had eagerly offered to teach the younger members of their tent the basics of the sport (it was a good thing he was so willing, too; fencing had always looked so cool in movies, and while Pear had managed to develop a hard-won immunity to the younger bird's incessant poking, Bex was nothing if not relentlessly creative. The beige-haired boy would have known no peace until Bex had gotten a foil in her hands.) In typical Pericles fashion though, he'd managed to somehow make the activity lamer than she could have ever dreamed.

"The masks are dumb." She whinged, continuing to practice the advance and retreat drills under Pear's watchful eye. "I look like a colander. And the foil isn't even sharp, how am I supposed to defeat my rivals with this?" Pericles had been adamant though that basic safety gear, especially her mask, was essential to keep the two of them from "twinning". She had to stop teaching him slang, he always somehow managed to sound like he was forty.

She would learn many lessons from her upper-year friends in her lifetime, but the specific lesson on the docket today was that fencing foils could not protect you from Aly Salinger. One moment Pericles was correcting her footwork, and then in the next Aly was herding him out the door mid-sentence, calling out a quick, "Go do boy stuff somewhere else!" to Pear, Finn, and Cassius, whom she had just banished so cruelly out into the cold. Bex could only stare at her, mouth agape, as the older girl effortlessly pruned their social circle until only the girls remained. "Aly," she complained, pulling the helmet off of her head, "You can't kick them out, at least let Pear back in." Her condolences to Finnegan and Cassius, but if you didn't know how to fence, then Bex just wasn't that interested in you right now.

Her annoyance turned to horror at Aly's assertion that they were having a girls' night. There was never any fencing at girls' night; just doing hair and nails, trying on clothes, and talking about boys. This was her nightmare. "I might actually follow the boys-" She started, inching her way towards the door, before freezing with her hands up as Aly pointed at her. Her... hair routine? When she was at home, her hairdresser mother ensured her hair was well taken care of, usually putting it up in elaborate braids and adhering to a strict regimen of curly hair products that Bex lacked any interest in learning. At school, however, her hair care routine was mostly shampoo and a ponytail.

Now, Dee? Dee was a girl she could get behind. Well, sort of. Admittedly that time that she'd bodily defended the boy who'd maimed Pericles - preventing him from receiving the mob justice that he'd so richly deserved - wasn't her favorite thing anyone had ever done, but the older girl's current state of being, i.e. covered in muffin and cosplaying as the Virgin Mary with her blanket over her head while she gave an impassioned speech about the horrors of Aly-assigned makeovers, did earn her a begrudging point or two in Bex's book. Bex was still keeping a close eye on her, obviously, but the older girl made it extremely difficult not to like her, at least a little bit.

Bex shook her head in response to the broom racer's suggestion. "I'm not stupid, there is no escaping Aly. Death is the only way out. If you kill me, I can kill you in exchange." Her dumb fencing foil certainly wouldn't be any help in that regard, though. Damn Pericles and his reasonable safety precautions. "And my hair is fine, I think. I cut most of it off, anyway."


Bex could do nothing but watch as Dee started pulling various sitting implements over to the fire, side-eyeing Evelynn and Winnie in an effort to gauge their opinions on the hostage situation at hand. Guess they were doing this, then. Cool. Great. Girls' night, hooray.

OOC: Consent to godmod Pericles given by his writer.

⋖ 01/Aug/2024 @ 8PM | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Aly Salinger @Dealla Prince | MENTIONING @Winnie Harper @Rebecca Lark
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The sharp percussion of clapping hands interrupted whatever train of thought Evelynn's mind had been following as she lounged comfortably by the fire, nose deep into Enchantment and Bewitchment: Techniques and Ethics--by Felix Fairweather. Lidded eyes, tinted orange by the reflection of the nearby flames, glanced up over the crisp pages in search of the source of the announcement. Catching sight of the retreating forms of three figures, she quirked a brow, peering after them and began to inquire, "And where are they off to at this hou--" Salinger answered her query before she could even finish voicing it. "Ah." A skeptical inflection settled into the subtle lines of the lioness's face, not immediately making any move to change her plans to read for the rest of the evening.

Her gaze followed the movements of the Ravenclaw seeker, eyes narrowed as though the very suggestion of a girl's night had been a reference to some sort of dangerous and ill-advised ritual. It was bad enough already that Evelynn seemed to have come to terms with the advantage of continued fraternization with those few who had somehow woven a social network around her. Though, whoever referred to it as a network must have enjoyed the company. Social web may have been a more apt descriptor, for despite her best attempts to keep them all at an arm's length, she could never seem to escape their influence. Her lips pulled into a subtle frown. A so-monikered girl's night was the last thing that she needed. It would only reinforce bonds of camaraderie, and while she acknowledged that the solo approach she had previously employed was not exactly effective, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to maintain social connection enough for security's sake while also keeping the risk of harm to them at bay. What she did know, however, was that she did need them.

Resolving to endure whatever it was that Salinger had in mind for the evening, Evelynn reclined more comfortably back into her canvas chair and allowed the textbook to quietly shut upon her ribbon-marked page. Although it remained resting in her lap, she laid her hands upon it, one over the other. "I fail to see how a glow up is particularly necessary..." Shifting her weight, she set an elbow to the arm of the chair. Fingers rose to rest knuckles along the underside of her jaw, head tilting slightly in the process as she continued off-handedly, "She is already beautiful, assertive and well liked. What is there to improve upon." In Evelynn's mind, the term glow-up coincided with those films that turned a bookish mouse of a girl into an unrecognizable woman of desire. Sure, there may have been crumbs on her face and a sense of liberty that bordered on carelessness as far as her general conduct was concerned, but if ever there was a girl who required the assistance of her peers to find herself, it wasn't Dealla Prince. Still, she supposed there was no harm in reviewing groom and garb for the morrow's festivities, one that even Evelynn was--allegedly, though she couldn't recall having signed up for it--attending.

When Salinger wheeled then on her, she expected some suggestion along the same lines. What more stereotypical a way for a gaggle of girls to bond than over deep discussions on how exactly to coif one's hair, or what specific shade of five options of "romantic midnight rose" to plump their lips would most bring out their eyes. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes and bury her nose right back into the pages of her book, she braced for impact. Like clockwork, that Cheshire smile landed full force. If there was one thing for which she could credit Salinger, it was her perseverance. Like Pericles, it seemed to be that when that girl set her eyes on something, she pursued it relentlessly. Evelynn was beginning to come to the conclusion that--like with Pericles--sometimes it was easier to just give in early without a fuss. But the Gryffindor would find herself surprised. A brow perked as she suggested nothing more than just chatting, at least until the nickname, which garnered a flatly delivered, "..I suppose." She couldn't deny, she had been pinned there. Ever the purveyor of information, if the others started talking, Evelynn would undoubtedly be a passive participant. May as well be an active one.

The first sign of her genuine interest, however, would arrive with the mention of Winnie's boyfriend. Mathias Pride had been on Evelynn's radar for some time. Initially, it was merely due to his proximity to the strawberry princess, well and the way he had so exuberantly introduced himself as a massive fan of Evelynn's upon first introduction. But there was something decidedly off about him. As the years passed, that uneasy feeling in her gut took steady hold, helped in no small part due to Flash's resolute dislike and mistrust of the boy. Her own interactions with Pride, given their different years and houses, were few and far between.

Still, there had been that odd confrontation with Marshal in the quidditch stands regarding Winnie that one time, where he had taken the Gryffindor into his arms as though to romantically embrace him, while simultaneously admitting to having wronged Winnie somehow. There was also that occasion when he had shouted "NOW YOU MUST DIE", before shoving Evelynn off a boat to careen into the water below. And during that same summer, how he had indulged in lascivious smooching of strangers while hypocritically denying Winnie from being able to do the same, had she so desired. Rumours of that incident had spread pretty quickly. There had been other rumours as well, of other incidents. Times where he and Winnie had had some falling out or other. Instances where his smarmy facade had faltered during interactions with others.

Despite that, he'd almost fallen off of her radar entirely after her disengagement with society, only to very firmly bounce right back to its core during the recent Spring ball. Snippets of insults slung at strangers and girlfriend had filtered through the mental haze to reach Evelynn's consciousness; but it wasn't those that had entrapped her renewed attention. Should have stayed dead dead man. He knew about Athanatos. She was sure of it. There was no proof, and any support may have been circumstantial at best, but Evelynn could not shake the feeling that he was more involved with The Trio than had initially been made apparent. Not to mention, those thoughts of his that had slipped through from time to time had given insight to his true perspectives, which were not at all as magnanimous as the face he would often put forward, though it wasn't until she'd had the opportunity to study those recollections with the help of memory potions that she was really able to pick out some of the subtler nuances.. Like forgiving Winnie for his own indiscretion, for example. In her focus on pulling Pericles back from the danger that was Jack Warren, it had been a detail she'd overlooked during the original scene.

Nevertheless, with interest piqued sufficiently enough to prevent her outright declination to join the status quo, Evelynn set aside her book for later reading, dropping it to partially obscure the constellation of Circinus decorating the jet-black cover of another that she had pulled from the inner tent, and resolved to give the others her full attention. Contrary to Salinger, Evelynn was decidedly not a girls' girl. Or, at the very least, was not one yet. Her three day retreat into the loft of her family property's barn with Salinger and Pericles had been the closest thing to a close-knit-group bonding experience she'd ever really had. She had survived. "And what, dare I even ask," she began, tilting her head towards Prince, "does getting this party started entail?" While the tone of her voice and the expression on her face suggested skepticism with a healthy dose of hesitation, she had leaned forward, body language evidencing to a more open reception of the situation.

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Interacting: @Dealla Prince | @Aly Salinger | @Rebecca Lark | @Evelynn Decipio

Outfit: ✿

Mentioning: @

English | Irish

Winnie sat cross-legged on her sleeping bag, although it had been covered by a mountain of pink blankets, quilts, various cute pillows, and stuffed animals (notably a fox and a goat). Her hair had been pushed back with the help of a fluffy pink bunny headband, and she held a pink heart shaped hand mirror and was using her well manicured fingers to carefully apply moisturizer to her face.

She glanced up from the mirror upon hearing Aly ushering the boys out of the tent, and any facial hygiene routines were quickly forgotten. Her mirror was tossed back into her trunk as she excitedly ripped the headband off.

"YES! Girls night!" OH MY GOD, IT'S HAPPENING, IT'S HAPPENING! She had never had a sleep over party before, unless you counted the time she had forced Jack to stay over as children. She still had a photo of him wearing a tiara somewhere. This was going to be like the Muggle movies where they got up to mischief while painting each others nails, right? And maybe she got to kiss Dee a little, that would be fine with her too--

Wait, the ball! Her heart started to hammer excitedly against her chest as she zoomed over to her chest and started to pull out various gowns. "I CAN HELP! OH! LET ME HELP! I HAVE STUFF!" In her excitement she would toss a green gown towards poor Bex.

She was in the middle of digging for another gown when Aly mentioned her hair. "Oooh! You can try but it might be difficult! Mum always gives up halfway through."

Winnie's entire demeanor would shift the moment she mentioned Mathias. "I... I don't want to talk about him. He hasn't even showed up to beg forgiveness so..." She nervously gnawed at her bottom lip as she pulled a floral gown out of her trunk, unfortunately it happened to be one that Mathias had given her and she shoved it back in.

The following is a memory that Evelynn Decipio picks up from Winnie via her wand:

Reducio

Midspring Celebration, 2022. A younger Winnie was in tears as she stared over at Mathias Pride.

"It was a step up from what you usually wore," The Slytherin had said, "Meant for a wizard instead of a muggle girl trying to play dress-up, dress for the life you want not the damned life that you have. If you look the role, nobody will question if you deserve it, now take it before they become wise."

She had to refocus on something else before she started to cry again, like the chocolate that Dee had brought out. Within a blink she was at the older Ravenclaw's side, like a dog waiting for its master to drop a piece of food.

Girls just wanna have fun!
✰

Much like Winnie's, Aly's mind pretty much instantly filled with IT'S HAPPENING! over and over in a repetitive scroll across her prefrontal cortex. Sure, her absolutely amazing and perfect in every way idea to have a night just for the ladies of Circinus hadn't been met with quite as much squealing and enthusiasm and dropping of everything else immediately as she had expected... between Dee telling Bex to "run while you still can", Bex very nearly looking like she was about to take that advice and go swordfighting with the tent lads, and Eve's less-than-ardent "I suppose", Aly could feel her grasp on the girls' plans for the night slipping away more and more with each passing second. Luckily, WBH (Winifred Bloody Harper!!) was around to take up the mantle of fellow enforcer, and one by one, the dissidents fell in line. Across the tent, Aly shot the coppery-haired fifth-year - who had now curled up practically at Dee's feet, begging for some of the former's chocolate bar, something Aly could very much understand - a relieved and extremely grateful smile. In literature, in the stories, girl groups like this always seemed to fall together almost accidentally, being strangers one moment and sharing their deepest fears and secrets the next. Who knew that having girlfriends would actually take work?

And yet, now here they were: three of sixteen, one of fifteen, and one of twelve gathered around the campfire like penguins huddling for warmth (as if Aly knew of the existence of a creature called a penguin). Three penguins of the five had protested, if only slightly, at the prospect of an evening full of female fellowship and fortification. What was so wrong with that? The Ravenclaw first turned to Dee, admittedly already one of the prettiest in the tent if not the most gorgeous, and Aly would fistfight anyone who said otherwise despite having never physically fought anyone before. She'd cobbed a couple times - that was the same thing, right? "Oh, come on. You're the one who asked for a makeover, even though you of all people don't really need it," she groaned in her best mate's direction, shooting her one of her Famous Aly Looks™. "It's already hard enough to make over someone so pretty without you doubting my skills, too! And see, look, I've got Winnie as well to help out, so between the two of us we have you so covered. Now." One hand on the hip, Aly cocked her head to the side. "Are you going to show me this gown you brought or not? I've been dying to see it all camp!"

Whilst she was on her tirade of shutting down the unenthused commentary her suggestion had induced from her tentmates, he elder brunette shot her younger version a stern look, in that moment looking more like her mother Hesper than she ever had in her life - though of course no mirrors were around to reflect that back at her (yet). "As for you - absolutely not on following those boys. They're probably going to go eat mud or something, whatever lads do together in their free time-" she leveled a finger at Bex- "and don't you dare say that's more fun than a night of gossiping with your favourite gals. Look, here we have chocolate." Her pointing hand drifted to Dee, whose handheld bar did indeed look good enough to go steal right now, if she hadn't a shred of decency. Luckily, Aly didn't only have some levels of honour, but she also possessed a veritable hoard of Cauldron Cakes, which she promptly snatched from her trunk and dumped into a pile near the campfire. Those who looked closely to the sweets avalanche could also notice within its chocolatey depths some marshmallow biscuits, chocoballs, ginger newts, pepper imps, licorice wands, peppermint toads, caramels, jelly slugs... if you could purchase it on the shelves of Honeydukes, it was likely there. Alyssa Salinger never went anywhere without a saccharine pick-me-up, after all. Gesturing to the miniature-sugar-shoppe now laid out by the fire, Aly cocked an eyebrow at Bex with a shit-eating sugar-eating grin. "See? Help yourself." If that wasn't, in the words of Dee and Eve, getting this party started, Aly didn't know what was.

She also couldn't help but let loose a light giggle at the sight of the soon-to-be-second-year completely drowning in sage green fabric, a gorgeous feather-light gown with a tiered skirt of ombré tulle that elicited a gasp from the elder student as soon as she realised what it was. "Oh, Winnie, are those butterflies? Ah, that's lovely!" she gushed, this time turning to the lighter redhead and pointing once again back at Bex. "I will genuinely pay you as much pocket money as I have if you'll let me borrow that for, I dunno, the spring ball next year? We're about the same height - probably the same size, too, and that's just gorgeous." She could already envision it: freckled shoulders bared against a faded emerald hue, just close enough to the colour of her eyes to make them pop. Perhaps Gladrag's down in Hogsmeade would have some sort of butterfly head accessory to go along with it? Ah, if not, Madam Puddifoot's would always have something just perfectly gaudy enough to satisfy the girliest of cravings.

Pushing aside her dreams, for she was no Seer no matter how much she wanted those visions of layered ruffles and flapping wings in her mind to be true, Aly shook her head to clear it as she headed over to plop herself down, finally, half-beside and half-behind Winnie. Earlier, upon grabbing the cavalcade of chocolates and candies from her trunk, Aly had also taken it upon herself to pocket her brush, a trusty thing that always managed to get through her curls without pulling too hard. Even when a certain someone @Pericles Dralt knotted her hair beyond belief, this brush could always seem to detangle the would-be braids without too much trouble. Reaching forward to take Winnie's waves into her hands, perhaps the longest hair Aly had ever seen in her life, Aly began to detangle it with soft, even strokes. Admittedly, she wasn't the best at brushing hair - or doing hair, really - at least on other people, since mostly she just wrangled her own messy mane and that was that. "If I'm pulling too hard, let me know," she said around the side of Winnie into her ear before leaning back and raising her voice slightly to diss on a significant other, notoriously one of her favourite pastimes. "Well, can't say I've ever met him but he sounds like a right prick! Your boyfriend, that is." Aly waved the brush around, waiting for confirmation and exclamations of support from her other tentmates. "Am I right or am I right?"

✰

@Evelynn Decipio @Winnie Harper @Dealla Prince @Rebecca Lark
Charmer ✰ Paragon of Health ✰ Lovely Creature
Foulplay ✰ Keen Eye

It seemed like the group was coming together, even if half of them were mostly bonding over teasing Aly (fondly, of course, one of Dee's dearest pastimes). "Good idea," Dee nodded along to Bex's suggestion, until she paused as if a realisation had just struck her. "Wait. Hold on." She narrowed her eyes. "If I kill you first, how are you going to kill me? Is this a trap? You're going to leave me behind to suffer alone!" She pointed at the youngest member of their group, eyes wide and finger trembling accusingly. "Betrayal! The deal is off!" Which, of course, meant they'd both be subject to Aly's whims. Oh no, the horror.

They weren't the only ones with an opinion on the necessity of makeovers, however. Dee blinked, caught off-guard Evelynn's extremely blunt and very flattering characterisation of her person. Not that she was wrong, of course. Dee had never had reason to feel insecure about her looks, what Evelynn called assertive other people might even term bossy or self-opinionated, and she'd certainly never had trouble making friends. People just usually didn't state it that matter-of-factly. But she quickly found her footing again, and shot the Gryffindor a wink and a smile. "Aw, stop it, you'll make me blush."

She might have added more, but decided to gape at Aly in mock-outrage instead. "When did I! I only wanted to know if it came with the age. You know, you go to bed as a dreary fifteen year old, then wake up sixteen and stunning... With none of the effort involved." Because while she was entirely willing to let Aly wrangle her hair and makeup into place so she'd be the belle of the ball tomorrow, it was rather unlikely that she'd make a habit of it by herself.

Despite her outward complaining, she didn't actually mind, of course, so Dee paused in her pillow pile preparations to blow her best friend a kiss. "I don't doubt your abilities. I think you're extremely capable. Scarily so. The combination with Winnie makes it more terrifying, not less." Because, as she stated so enthusiastically, Winnie had stuff, and wasn't afraid to use it, either. There was also no issue of having to convince the ginger-haired Ravenclaw to participate in this girls' night - the word had barely left Aly's lips and Winnie had lit up like a lightbulb - or a wildfire. Bex was her first victim, disappearing below a pile of tulle, and Dee giggled, then started unwrapping one of her chocolate bars. The remainder of her earlier muffin had disappeared mysteriously. "This," she replied, waving the chocolate at Evelynn. "This is the party. Also making fun of dear Aly. If you want in, come over, there's space and chocolate enough." Yes, she was not above setting a trap and using sweets as bait to help make Aly's vision come true... more or less.

Except said vision apparently included boys talk, which seemed to immediately cow Winnie's enthusiasm. "Boys suck," Dee announced matter-of-factly, wrapping an arm around Winnie's waist to pull her into the blanket pile with her and picked up a chocoball to hand to the girl. Who'd given Winnie the permission to be so cute? Ever since the first day of camp, Dee couldn't help seeing the fluffy dog even when Winnie was in human form, big puppy eyes and wagging tail. "Here. Chocolate. Better than guys ninety-seven out of a hundred times. Peri possibly excluded."

@Aly Salinger | @Rebecca Lark | @Evelynn Decipio | @Winnie Harper

⋄ Banner made by Aly Salinger ⋄
⋄ August 1st, 2024; 20:00 | London Quidditch Stadium: Circinus Tent ⋄
⋄ Interactions: @Aly Salinger, @Dealla Prince, @Evelynn Decipio & @Winnie Harper | Mentions: @Pericles Dralt & @Finnegan Connor⋄

𝓢he had to hand it to Dee; for all the girl's many faults, she was very good at spotting obvious holes in plans, a trait that would be not only but useful but fundamentally necessary should the two of them wish to escape the force of nature that was Aly Salinger unscathed. Puffing up in indignation at Dee's insinuation she was a quisling in disguise (how funny it was that she was one, perhaps, though not quite in the way that Dee was implying), Bex replied, "I wouldn't leave you behind, I honor my bargains!" Her face scrunched up in thought, the tip of her tongue poking out of her mouth as she muddled through a solution to Dee's query. "Did they teach you necromancy in 5th year? Or not until after your O.W.L.s? If you can't reanimate me, we can probably just kill each other at the same time, I've seen it happen with bludgers in Quidditch, sometimes. We just have to time it well, I think."

Bex found herself agreeing with Evelynn's assessment of the situation, re: Dee's impending Hot Girl Summer TM. Dee was already unfairly pretty, which was annoying. Bex couldn't imagine what could possibly need to be done to the racer to make her more presentable - since nature seemed to have already done all the heavy lifting for her - but if Bex was being honest with herself, she would agree to most any makeover activity Aly suggested for Dee if it kept Aly's gaze firmly on the elk-sentry and off of Bex herself. This was a wish that was looking increasingly far-fetched, especially as Aly was rapidly fortifying her offensive assault, but God if Bex wasn't earnest in her prayers for it.

"As for you - absolutely not on following those boys. They're probably going to go eat mud or something, whatever lads do together in their free time-" "That sounds fun, I like mud-" "And don't you dare say that's more fun than a night of gossiping with your favourite gals." Perhaps she wouldn't say it, but she would certainly think it, sticking her tongue out childishly at Aly and doing her best to psychically beam her complaints at the older Ravenclaw. "Look, here we have chocolate." Bex didn't even like chocolate. The indignities in this tent never cease.

(Finnegan did like sweets however, and had yet to gain back the weight he'd lost following the Ball last spring, so if over the course of the night she quietly slipped a few of each treat into her bag instead of eating them, well, that was her business.)

Winnie's Girls' Night enthusiasm was, frankly, proper terrifying. Aly was plenty scary on her own merit, she did not need in ally in her unholy ambition. Like Jochebed sending Moses down the river, Bex was forced to say a miserable, martyred goodbye to her dreams of mud and swords in the face of their combined energy. There would be no chance of freedom on this day. She had but a moment to wonder what the weird goop Winnie had been putting on her face was - in general, she had mostly positive feelings about weird goop - before she was once again cruelly subjected to the indignity of a patented Winnie Wardrobe Walloping directly to the face.

Making an unhappy pleh noise as she spit tulle and lace out of her mouth, she held up the green, butterfly patterned dress with a growing sense of horror. "Is this supposed to be for me?" She asked, terrified to hear the answer. She'd never been so grateful to Aly as when the other girl chimed in a desire for the poofy little thing, and Bex practically tripped over her own feet in her haste to hand it off to her. "You'll look so beautiful." Bex insisted, which she was sure was true even though this was more hostage negotiation than candid assessment.

Like a good, obedient little abductee, who enjoyed being alive with all her fingers firmly attached, Bex made herself comfortable in the little cluster they'd formed by the fire, warming her hands as she watched Aly perform her dark rituals on Winnie's hair. Bex made an agreeable hmm in response to Aly's assertion that Winnie's boyfriend was a prick, which sounded true, even if she hadn't met him. A firm, "Boys suck," came from Dee, followed by an assertion that chocolate was better than all boys who weren't Pear. While she agreed wholeheartedly with the assertion of Pear's general superiority, chocolate being better than boys was a much harder sell. Chocolate was gross, in general, and boys were usually alright, so long as you weren't dumb enough to date them. Her condolences to Winnie, thoughts and prayers, etc.

"If boys are so terrible, just don't date them." Bex said with the unearned confidence of a soldier who's yet to ever see the horrors of war. "That seems like a no-brainer."

⋖ 01/Aug/2024 @ 8PM | ENGLISH [#715380] | FRENCH [#b654a9] ⋗
INTERACTIONS @Rebecca Lark | MENTIONING @Winnie Harper @Aly Salinger @Dealla Prince
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Evelynn's night had so quickly devolved from a quiet pursuit of academia to a boisterous reenactment of some sort of convoluted mash-up of Shakespeare and High School Musical as Miss Lark and Miss Prince dramatized the planning of a mutual homocide while Winnie and Salinger gushed over tulle and hair. An insidious sort of dread was already collecting uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach despite having resigned herself to whatever fate the night would have in store. It was so outside of her element that the Gryffindor lingered in her designated territory even as the others started to gather, but it wasn't just because of her general hesitation for the night's events.

Images had flooded her thoughts, leaving her attention to be somewhere other, though it was possible—invested as the others were in their own interactions—it would go unnoticed. Her vision blurred. Colours swam before her not unlike they did when a particularly heavy rainfall clouded her quidditch goggles. A blob of white moved in front of her, cut through with swaths of gold and black. Every now and then, the details of the face could be made out before they smeared again. It was Pride. And by the distinct appearance of his outfit, it was the Midspring Celebration. His mouth moved, words dripping with contempt. But it wasn't haughtiness that swept through her in the moment, it was a distinct wave of hurt and confusion. Like someone had just stabbed her through the heart and sprinkled it with salt.

And then the words and the scene started to fade, movement ahead over her across the plume of flames at the center of a tent coming back into focus. A hand lifted to a trailing tickle down her cheek, pulling away with moisture on the pads of her fingers. Turning to rummage through her things to buy herself time, Evelynn hastily blinked the phantom tears away, repeating to herself the date and her current situation. Only once she was oriented again did she withdraw, turning back to the group with the hope that none would be the wiser. She wasn't entirely certain what she had missed, but the girls were not all where they had been moments before.

All four of the other girls had collected together near the fire. Winnie seemed to have the best of it, evidently being pampered with pieces of chocolate between strokes of a brush through her impossibly long copper tresses. Though Salinger seemed very relaxed with her task of taming the mane; and Dee, the beneficent dealer of cocoa-contained dopamine. Only Miss Lark seemed still a bit withdrawn, proximal to the others but without the same sort of intermingling. Evelynn swallowed any remaining hesitation and circled around the flames to join them, lowering herself a nearby bedding.

"I quite agree with you," the lioness nodded her chin to Miss Lark as she lowered herself, "though I am not certain if it is limited to boys per se. Romantic endeavours in general are a distraction. Your time would be better spent studying or pursuing your interests." Whether she was speaking specifically to their junior or to everyone could be up to interpretation. In some ways, it almost felt like she was trying to remind herself of that fact that she had lived by so easily and without qualm for the past five years. For some reason, the mention of dating bothered her, left her with a sense of restlessness that she couldn't quite settle. She averted her gaze, and only then did she really acknowledge whatever it was that she had palmed from her pack as cover for her delay—her deck of tarot cards. An idea occurred to her.

"Miss Lark," Evelynn murmured, eager to pounce upon the distraction. "If you would like, I could read a tarot spread for you."

Given that the Gryffindor had dropped out of Divination after third year in favour of Ancient Runes, this particular offer may have come as something of a surprise to those such as Salinger who were aware of her lack of enrollment in the class. But just because she had no desire to pursue the curricula did not mean she wasn't interested in the material. Or some of it, at least. Many of the teachings remained somewhat foreign to her, but tarot in particular had always held her curiosity. Held firm between thumb and forefinger, Evelynn rocked the stack of cards back and forth in a sort beckoning serpent's dance, their gold-gilded edges glinting and glistening in the reflection of the fire.

"It seems you already have a good sense of focus about you, but perhaps we can identify any other obstacles that could prove troublesome for you in this upcoming year, mn?"

The moment Miss Lark showed interest, agreeing to this alternative to being subjected to uncomfortable hair pulling or games of dress-up, Evelynn was back on her feet. The cards remained behind, but she carried herself with swift and deliberate strides to retrieve a few other oddities: a vial of whiskers, the first snitch she had caught, a piece of azurite, a few floating candles, a framed luna moth... And then she padded over to Miss Lark's sleeping area, collecting whatever palm sized items there drew her attention and exuded an aura of their master. All of these were brought back where she promptly lowered herself again and set to dutifully arranging them in a semi-circle around the area where she would lay the spread, the candles lit and left to hang suspended between them. In silence, she shuffled the deck, her eyes closed and breathing controlled, before asking Becca to cut the deck. And then she lay the spread.