The Mistletoe Spin Group #9 Summer Camp 2024

Moderated Action: Casting Glacius on candle

Trunk

Statistics
Stamina: 8
Evasion: 8
Strength: 9
Wisdom: 14
ArcPower: 8
Accuracy: 8

RPING AS CASTELOBRUXO STUDENT MANU MACEDO

“What's worth having is worth waiting for.”
—Brazilian proverb

Manu wasn't one to get embarrassed easily. Annoyed, sure, and angry, of course, but embarrassment was a different beast altogether, and not one with which she was wholly familiar. There had been times in her life where that red flush had spread across her face and she'd wanted to melt into a puddle or run and hide, but she usually confronted that emotion head-on, and often solved the issue with her wand or her fists. Neither of those were proper weapons to use when one of the two boys who'd been sucking face in the middle of the dance floor caught her gaze in his (Madhup, though of course she didn't know his name) and wiggled his fingers at her from across the distance. Was Manu embarrassed to have been caught staring, at all, then? Well... perhaps not, for amorous and extravagant displays of affection weren't entirely uncommon at her school or in her home life in Rio, but it was certainly interesting to see people her age doing so at such a formal event. Maybe it was just that she didn't know the rules of the dance yet. But Manu was adaptable, and she would learn.

She huffed a chuckle at the flirty kisser before returning her attention to the admittedly rugged, though whether he was handsome was yet to be determined, boy in front of her. Manu was quite sure she had spoken in English to him, and yes, fine, her accent wasn't the thinnest, but English was her third language and she could hardly have been blamed for such a minor transgression. And yet the boy spoke back to her in - well, something. Whatever language that was, it certainly wasn't English.

Que porra? What the fuck?

But it was, as she realised, being able to pick up a word or two - giraffe, hands, and... was it tricks, or trucks? The boy seemed embarrassed, pulling his hands from Manu's, and he flushed pink, apparently being less talented at chasing awkwardness away with a sharp stick and bruised knuckles. She debated asking him to repeat himself for the briefest of moments, trying desperately in her mind to piece through the words before she heard the music start up again - and knew it was too late. Not wanting to be swept away from the first person who had actually tried to start up a conversation with her at this event before she could even get a word out, the sentence spilled from her lips, bubbling over before she could so much as filter it: "I do not know what the fuck you have just said," and then, as she felt the curse of the dance floor begin to take over, she clasped a hand to her chest in introduction and (even as she began to dance away, uncontrollably) called out to him, "Manu!"

Whether he understood that it was her name, or whether he even really did speak English, Manu had no idea. But it didn't matter now. He was sweet, as Manu hadn't met many boys who embarrassed easily, and perhaps she would go find him for a proper introduction later. For now, however, she was dancing away with unpracticed practiced steps, bopping to the beat just like everyone else, little control coursing through her limbs.

Partners came and went over the course of the song, and by its end, Manu once again found herself in the arms of an unfamiliar man. A few faces flashed through her mind, friends of hers back home and even here at the camp who perhaps would have enjoyed this situation a bit more than the Brazilian girl herself. At least it wasn't one of the boyfriends, those two who'd been all over each other at the end of the previous song. Her hazel eyes, tinged with green, raked up and down the boy in his black outfit, similarly coloured to hers but much better accessorised - dripping with chains and ruffles and flowers, and he even appeared to have painted his nails an equally night-sky shade to match, something that egged out of Manu a dubious raise of an eyebrow. Even Manu had not painted her nails for the event, though, granted, that was not a common trait of hers anyway. Clearly, unlike the Castelobruxo student and her heavily-accented former dance partner, some of the people here had gotten the memo about dressing up and were leaning into that with full advantage.

And yet, they were both in black, so the left corner of Manu's mouth quirked up in an almost-smirk. "Our clothes... they are combined," she said, immediately realising it was the wrong word as soon as it left her mouth. She corrected herself. "No. Matched. They are matched." Again, she cast his outfit a somewhat hesitant look, wondering how in the world people had known to dress up for this event - or why they even cared. It wasn't a president's ball, after all, but stupid teenagers at a summer camp. "Your clothings are so... elegant. You always bring, er, ruffles and florals for the camp of summers, or you adapted this yourself after you arrived?" Her last dance partner seemed to have understood her, at least, so that worry of hers was out of the way. Now she was more worried about the others' accents impeding her own understanding, instead.

Before her partner could respond, Manu's eyes had darted away from him to view the others on the floor. Another pair seemed to have broken out into an argument, but even as the curious girl's eyes watched a pretty blonde storm away from her equally pretty and equally blond dance partner - oh, one of the boyfriends - her mouth opened in shock. The boy had grabbed the girl and proceeded to lay one on her, as esurient and fierce as the one he had given to another boy earlier. "Que porra?" What the fuck? she said in dumbfounded stupor, unable to keep the cursing internal this time around. She whirled, tearing out of her partner's arms, to find the dark-haired boy she had assumed to be the blond's boyfriend earlier due to their absolutely ridiculous (and, yet, quite normal) actions on the dance floor, only to find his golden suit held over a dark-haired girl Manu actually recognised. Oh, Dealla was here, but Manu had no time to think of her duelling-rival-turned-sort-of-idol at the moment. Just moments before, those boys had been wildly in love, and now here one was, snogging another behind his boyfriend's back.

There was only one conclusion to reach.

"This place is cursed," Manu declared, plainly, as she turned back to her partner and squinted confused eyes at him. Pointing back behind her, she continued in clipped, pointed words, "That one there is kissing all the world, is he? I would see this in Rio, but not here. It should be a curse, like the floor. And what do you know of this?" Perhaps he knew nothing, but one could never trust people when curses were about.

Action: Being generally stupefied at why people are kissing (unmoderated action)

STA 11 | EVA 12 | STR 6 | WIS 11 | ARC 10 | ACC 13
The Muggle Condition | Fearless | Advanced Casting
Wandmaker |Perfectionist | Spell Spread

Greta Fransson @Evelynn Decipio, Felix Kolbeck @Winnie Harper, @Dealla Prince, Everett Brooks @Dorion Anderson

Time really was just slipping away in this game. Theo and Greta weren't given the chance for a lengthier conversation, he only managed to answer a quick "Yes, see you tomorrow, maybe!", before they were torn apart again. And maybe that was a good thing. The two of them hadn't really had the chance to spend much time, which was probably mainly the fault of her classmates- he hadn't missed them watching him like hawks- but there was a reason that he hadn't let go. Surely he wasn't imagining this... spark?

Speaking of sparks- with the same pang of guilt he always felt, he had noticed Dee in the crowd, looking stunning in a red dress, and suddenly he was wondering. They had known each other for a lot shorter than Greta at him, but did seeing Greta and him feel anything like seeing Greta and this other boy felt to him?

Before he could follow this line of thought further, he suddenly found himself in front of another very familiar face. Theo grinned and already opened his mouth to comment, when he realized that it was not a candle they stopped under. "Oh awesome, I was already worried this might get boring." He didn't for a second believe they would actually kiss. Not until Rett leaned forward, but then turned away last second and only kissed his cheek. "Coward!", he teased, but he was a little relieved. As much as he liked Rett, his friend would not be his first kiss.

"Interested? Ha, I-" Automatically his gaze scanned the floor for Greta, but when he found her, he suddenly forgot what he had been about to say. The boy he had seen her with before pulled her back when she was about to walk away, upset, judging by the look on her face and kissed her. "Cover me for a sec.", Theo would say to Rett, already grabbing his arm and pulling him half in front of him, as he drew his wand and pointed it at Felix. No matter who this guy was to Greta, she had clearly tried to walk away and he had pulled her back.

Not under Theo's watch. "Relashio."

Action: Stealthily casting Relashio at Felix

Eh?" AJ was taken aback from a moment at the girl's sudden confused outburst. Not because he was offended or anything silly like that, but simply because he had not been expecting that from her at all. He wasn't a complete idiot, he knew sometimes people could have problems understanding him, though he'd thought he'd adapted enough to be clear to most. Perhaps the long while spent at home had fortified his accent.

He also came to the realisation that this girl wasn't from here, and thus it was reasonable to assume English wasn't her first language. He mentally facepalmed at his own lack of awareness. He supposed in his nervousness his words had been more accented and more mumbled than he had intended.

He opened his mouth to apologise as he suddenly felt the music swell and his body start shifting to the rhythm once again, and he could tell the same was happening to her. She sent one final word his way, a word that he could only assume was Portugese for "dumbass."

Part of him hoped he would spin to her again and have a chance to apologise, but another part of him hoped to be spared the potential embarrassment of a second meeting.

He would have to push those thoughts aside as he twirled and danced in a dizzying display only to wind up face to face with a new figure. AJ opened his mouth to speak only to feel something heavy drop onto his hair. At first he feared it might be bird poo, but as his partner deftly avoided another sky projectile he soon realised that it was in fact wax from on high that was assaulting them. For all the genius of the wizarding world, had they really not figured out candles that didn't drip wax? Heck even Muggles had worked out a solution, it was called a tiny little dish underneath the candle...It probably had a proper name but AJ certainly couldn't think of it at a time like this.

"Ugh...Neetmeer..." "Ugh, Nightmare..." He muttered as he felt the wax solidify, sticking some of his curly locks together. He drew his wand and readied to rectify the candle, but it seemed the other boy had the same idea and faster too.

"Neece t'meet ya. Am Eejay..." "Nice to meet you. I'm AJ." He returns the boy's friendly introduction. "Aye, ye'd thenk theed've cunsuddered th' cundles." "Yeah you think they would've considered the candles."

In the following awkward silence AJ motions to Tristan's wand. "Tha' em...chustnut? Et's neece." "Is that...um...chestnut? It's nice."

Actions:Having hair ruined by big splotch of wax.

threading as Johannes Sauer
speaking in english(!!) unless specified

It was a little funny to be paired with someone who somehow knew everyone, even vaguely. If Johannes had been asked to judge everyone’s worth, he’d be infinitely less worldly and would likely do it based on appearances alone. Dealla, on the other hand, had a far more discerning eye for dull personalities and duelling grudges. It was easy to follow along as she pointed out possible suitors, allowing Johannes to cast a broad eye towards the rest of the unknown crowd for the first time tonight. “Princess” (as Dee indirectly introduced) was far more familiar than he would be comfortable with.

A voice like honey, like the summer sunshine that had blessed London four years ago. It had been the first time Johannes had left Durmstrang's snow-bound halls to visit another school. A lone Hound he had been, long before he had met any of his current friends except for Cielle. On this very turf, his first (and only) kiss had been given to some pretty green-eyed American. Dealla didn't remember his name, but Johannes certainly did. Everett (then known to him as Rett or, most crazily, as Babe) had set off a disastrous string of situationships that would follow Johannes’ concept of lovability for years. Retrospectively speaking, their little encounter had been a fever dream of flirtation. They had meant to keep in touch but had exchanged neither address nor further information until it was too late. By the time the school year had rolled around, Johannes had resigned himself to the impossible silence as another sought his favour. Not that it had led anywhere well... 2020 had been a year haunted by social frustration, not only by being ghosted twice (literally, during the fall ball) but also by acting as a witness to Everett's intense PDA with someone else. No deep conversation (yuck) about his (#)issues with Valentin could ever make him admit his own embarrassingly smitten behaviour.

Yet despite everything, the American looked good. It was almost annoying. The years had treated Everett well— just as aloofly handsome and preppily dressed as Johannes remembered. Blond now, tossing the other into the pool of subculture clash far deeper than it had once been. For Rett to be in the same group, fate certainly hated Johannes… Not that he had ever doubted that.

Now that he had staked out the two worst people to be matchmade with amongst their circle, every other pairing seemed less terrible. He'd just have to hope that whatever magic compelling them to dance would be more merciful than his own prankster wand. After all, blindly accepting Greta’s invitation had coincidentally gotten this group together, it could coincidentally bring them apart! As the dancing started up once more, Johannes bade Dee good luck and promised to reach out later for post-game celebrations. It was not an 'if' they won, but a 'when'. Durmstrang was good enough to be perpetually two-string strong as the other international schools combined forces! Of course, they'd have an inherent advantage, if not in numbers then in spirit.

For all of his terrible luck, something had to be on his side to avoid confronting serious drama. Johannes, finding his balance in new freedom and politely letting go of his new partner, found himself matched underneath a (thankfully not dripping) candle with someone in a little black dress. From first impressions alone, she wasn’t a native English speaker and just as dress code non-compliant as he currently was. Pretty sick. That's right, they did match, however unintentional it had been. Then again, it was quite difficult not to when dressing in the most superior colour a wardrobe could have. Johannes was just about to compliment her shoes and protest the presence of ruffles (okay fine, his shirt collar was rather frilly) when a familiar-sounding commotion broke out.

Unfortunately for the Hellhound, it was not the physical kind. It would have been so much easier had an actual scuffle broke out, but alas— Felix was going to get it now. He'd have to pray extra hard for emotional intervention because Johannes was not getting in between that situation. If it had been some random other suitor trying their hand at romantic arguments, maybe he could have done something but this was different. Pissing Greta off the night before a big game was just asking for trouble, not only for the almost-couple but for the health of the entire team. The only thing worse than making their Valkyrie angry pout was disappointing Valentin.

This is what Johannes got for supporting (read: third-wheeling) such troublesome almost-relationships! What was communication and chivalry when you could quietly pine after and passionately profess your love to each other in a different language that your supporters couldn't understand? Make a scene, why don't you? Under candlelight of all things!? No matter how much drama it was worth, Johannes wasn't learning Swedish this late into his academic career... There was no Google Translate for the heart and his poor eyes couldn't take such a sight. He could sweet-talk his way into a boy's arms and inbox but even he knew his limits.

Grimacing lightly to himself, Johannes addressed a confused Manu— already much too over everything to pretend like he didn't know his own friends. "Yeah, Felix is a bit..." How could he say this nicely? If his partner had been Madhup or some other Horntail, he could get away with the truth: For all of the Swede's bluster, he had bigger guts than the rest of them to act as kiss-happy as a sorority girl wasted on vodka shots. If anything was spiked, it would be Felix's own spit for swapping it so brazenly. Unfortunately for them all, Manu was not someone he trusted enough to lightheartedly ruin reputations with. “Passionate when you get to know him." He had to be owed a drink or something because Johannes felt extraordinarily lame softening his words to cover for his friend. Could-not-believe-himself lame. '4/10 experience, would not recommend' lame. This wasn't some old ladies' brunch where being a 'career lady' was the most scandalous idea shared around the table. God forbid someone brings up affairs... Passionate was the most obvious description he could provide without being a total ass.

"With those two, I feel like the mistletoe is there for decoration." You know, you don't have to bully your way into a kiss, Felix. Social expectations weren't that rigid of a teacher… Considering Nubuck's penchant for punkish patches and other accessories, one would think that his friend knew that already. Entirely unimpressed with Durmstrang‘s hot-cold attitudes towards each other, Manu's incredulous assumptions were a welcome contrast. ”Nothing's cursed, they've just been dancing around each other for too long. Way too long, believe me." They should have gotten together ages ago and saved him the trouble of third-wheeling... If anything, Johannes could only hope that such a shoujo-style confession actually developed into a proper relationship sometime. They all deserved some good things after these past few years.

Action: Talking— everyone should just get themselves together.

Mod Information

Reducio

Statistics: Sta: 10 | Eva: 17 | Str: 10 | Wisdom: 9 | Arc: 8 | Acc: 18
Abilities: Foulplay, Charmer, Evasive Maneuvers, Rapid Reviver, Blindvision, Wandmaker*, Lovely Creature

Charmer Allies: @Greta Fransson, @Felix Kolbeck, @Madhup Hexum

Wandmaker Information

Reducio

Dragon Heartstring
- Dragon Like Power: +3 to arcane power when casting spells with this wand.
- Accident Prone: 5% chance that the intended spell will rebound on the caster. Non-targeted spells such as counters, healing, and some utility spells that have no target or are self-targeting cannot rebound. This is not prevented by the Perfectionist ability.

Cedar Wood: "Spells performed against this wand owner's enemies (those who have specifically crossed them) tend to be more painful."
Romanian Longhorn: "When their owner is passionate about something, the spells that successfully go off tend to be more dramatic."

Outfit Reference

Reducio

Rather than being offended or responding with sarcasm the way Dee might have, Mr Mirrorball seemed genuinely pleased at being called shiny, and Dee blinked, trying hard to keep a straight face and failing rather spectacularly. He had an accent which she couldn't quite place, eastern European? It would make sense, at least. "Don't worry," she assured, eyes bright with laughter as they followed his gesture for a full-body scan. "I doubt you could hide if you wanted to." He wasn't particularly tall, in fact, her heels made them close to even, but she didn't mind that. Some of the giants running around her school gave her the urge to kick their kneecaps and watch them fall. And what was height in the face of confidence? He had plenty of that, clearly.

So they weren't hiding, but rather, he was protecting them from another drippy candle. Less sophisticated than her and Johannes' solutions, but she supposed it did the trick. She'd really have to talk to Aly about her choice of decorations, though. "Why thank you, my hair is nice," she agreed with the flash of a grin, then leaned in as if to share a secret. "I like yours, too."

Thankfully, he didn't call her shiny in return, but rather commented on the fiery nature of her outfit. Her smile turning a trace smug, Dee slipped out from under their little tent - away from the candle, of course - to do a quick twirl for him, then ducked back in because hey, apparently they were committed to this. And, because she couldn't help it, "Are you not the type to play with fire, then?"

The obvious relief at her confirmation of being not Quidditch earned another raised eyebrow, but apparently identifying herself as a broomracer had been the correct answer, for whatever purpose. Perhaps naming herself the star of a sport she'd never actually played was a touch hasty, but Dee had never been one to play it safe, so she just shrugged, standing by her claim. "What's the point of playing if you're not going to aim to be the best?"

It appeared that her partner, despite being a Quidditch player himself, might actually have more practical racing experience than Dee did. "Oh?" Dee perked up. She was still learning the racing ropes - the flying ropes, really, considering she'd spent four and a half years at Hogwarts actively avoiding brooms. And while she'd spent years on learning and coming up with duelling strategies, racing was, as Durmstrang put it, a different animal. "I'm sure I could offer some thoughts."

But instead of talking racing strategy, Dee got to watch Madhup get very distracted by something across the dance floor - something being one of the other pairs fighting rather publicly. The girl Johannes had been watching earlier, to be precise, and the other Durmstrang guy, the duellist. Really, all of these Durmstrang kids seemed incredibly invested in each other's relationships. Her eyebrows rose when the fighting turned to kissing, this time no mistletoe involved, and she turned back to her partner with a quizzical look at his apology. Hadn't he been kissing that guy rather passionately a couple minutes ago? Why would he do that if he was rooting for those two to get together? She blinked, her eyebrow twitching. And what did he mean I'm in this?

"You all seem, um, very close," she remarked, not quite sure what to make of the situation. "So when you say you're 'in this'", she gestured at Felix and Greta, "you mean..." Dealla trailed off, raising her eyebrows meaningfully at Madhup. If it worked for them?

Action | Just enjoying the company~

Madhup Hexum (@Pericles Dralt)
Mentions | The Durmstrang Drama

Stats | Sta 7 | Eva 16 | Str 3 | Wis 15 | Arc 8 | Acc 20
Evasive Maneuvers | Charmer | Perfectionist II | Spell Spread | Restricted Potions
Charmer affects everyone present.

Group 9

MODERATION POST

Finally, this group is showing everyone else how the Mistletoe Spin should really be played! Kissing, spellcasting, new romances blossoming - what's not to like? Felix Kolbeck and Greta Fransson flip the bird to the fact that they're not under a candle and go for it anyway in a hungry display of affection that's sure to make mothers everywhere cover their children's eyes. Unhappy by this progression of events, Theodore Duncain shoots a wonderfully cast Relashio at Felix, but the blonde Durmstrang boy smoothly dips Greta (flavour requested) out of the way of the spell without even breaking the seal of their lips. Seriously, someone check that they're able to breathe, please.

More love can be found blossoming between the newly met Madhup Hexum and Dealla Prince, as the Prince and her Durmstrang princess have a lovely conversation under a golden-suit canopy to protect them gallantly from the falling wax above. That sounds like something this author will have to remember for their wedding in the future, though luckily Madhup seems to have that all planned out already. Another sweet, albeit non-romantic, scene comes from Everett Brooks, who kisses Theodore kindly on the cheek. Best mates for life.

AJ MacAllister is protected by his dance partner, Tristan Theramin, who casts what is probably the strongest Glacius anyone here has ever seen on the frustratingly dripping candle above them. Sealed in a miniature iceberg, that candle won't be dripping anything but water when it eventually starts to melt. And last but not least, we have an interesting conversation between a very confused Manu Macedo and a very knowledgeable Johannes Sauer.

The music starts back up again, and the spell whisks everyone away to find a new partner... and by the time the violins fade out once more, each skilled dancer is paired with someone very new, in a situation that is either also new or vaguely familiar...

THE DANCE FLOOR HAS SPOKEN:
Rett Brooks (@Dorion Anderson) and Felix Kolbeck (@Winnie Harper) end up under the mistletoe!
Manu Macedo (@Aly Salinger) and @Dealla Prince end up under the mistletoe!
Madhup Hexum (@Pericles Dralt) and @Allister-Jameson MacAllister end up under the mistletoe!
Johannes Sauer (@Astrea Soleil Neptune) and @Tristan Theramin end up under the mistletoe!
Greta Fransson (@Evelynn Decipio) and Theodore Duncain (@Opeila Winters) end up under a candle... that is dripping wax on them!

For any questions or concerns, please owl the moderator of this event, @Aly Salinger.

Also and very importantly, please make sure your action is clearly visible and separated from the rest of your post. Preferably put it in a quote at the bottom but as long as it's separate that's fine. I would also appreciate an inclusion of any stats and abilities you may have in your posts. Makes it much easier to mod!

A final note: due to this group's size, there may be repeats in the pairings. I apologise, but also, I don't. Y'all love the drama.

Durmstrang | Year 7 | Height: 5' 2"

Russian‏‏‎ | Swedish‏‏‎ | Norwegian‏‏‎ | English

"I just care about you, I don't want you to get hurt--" The "explanation" for Felix's decree that Greta withhold from kissing anyone was met with an exasperated huff and roll of her eyes. That wasn't an answer to her questions at all!

"You don't want me to get hurt..." she muttered, lips pressing together into a thin line, brows knitting further together. "Don't go out alone, Greta. Make sure you stick with us, Greta. Stick to the plan and don't let yourself get targeted by bludgers, Greta. You're not allowed to speak to muggles, Greta. Don't associate with other schools, Greta! No body is good enough for you, Greta! DIE ALONE, GRETA!"

This time, she went off on her little tirade in Russian, her annoyance no longer limited just to Felix (@Winnie Harper), but all the Horntail as a collective. She loved her brothers and sisters. She did. But there were times when they could be suffocating, where their mean-wells kept her caged. Safe, sure. But lonely, and barred from living. The volume of her voice had gradually escalated, culminating in a pivot to leave. She was starting to see red, her face inflamed to match. She wouldn't get far, though, fingers grasping around her wrist just as she made a move to take her leave, to go... anywhere but here.

"Don't leave," Felix pleaded.

Petite as she was and not at all expecting the intervention, she was caught off guard, steps faltering, figure spun on the spot and pulled off balance back the way she'd come. Practically colliding, hands shot up to catch herself, fists grabbing at the fabric of Felix's chest. "Why not? Am I not allowed to leave, either, now? Why am I the child in need of protecting? Do you tell Astrid she can't kiss boys? Or Mimi?" Felix's hand reached up to cup her face and she moved to grab at his wrist with every intention to petulantly toss it away. "Why is it always me that's not allowed to have a--"

Before she knew what was happening, her string of complaints was cut off, stymied by the lips that now pressed against her own. Brows shot up, eyes flying wide. Goosebumps erupted en masse all across her body even as a spark instigated an inferno that immediately raged through her. Her knees weakened, leaving her feeling like someone had just cast some sort of grease spell beneath her feet. Sure that she was about to lose her footing, the hand that had reached for his wrist clasped tightly around it now to keep her from melting to the floor like one of the hundreds of candles above them. Whatever thoughts had been storming around her mind like a building cyclone were swept away, the room around them fading out of consciousness.

Greta's world narrowed, becoming singularly focused upon the hungry passion being instilled upon her in that moment. Something small ting'ed delicately against the tile. The beaded pendant of her chocker necklace rolled away from the pair, carelessly snagged and accidentally broken as Felix's fingers lost themselves within her--once--pinned tresses. She didn't notice. She didn't notice much at all, in fact, instead growing increasingly dizzy as the intimate embrace continued, and caught in a complete state of bliss as she quickly came to learn that not all kisses were slimy and gag-worthy.

By the time she was righted again, the music starting up, Greta looked as though she was living in a waking dream. Her lips were slightly parted, her expression somewhat vacant, eyes staring forward like a living doll as she moved from person to person at the mercy of the steps of the dance compelling her obedience. Unfortunately for her momentary partners, they would be afforded with no recognition, entirely caught within her own mind as Greta was. Had... had that really just happened? She hadn't just dreamed that, right? Felix had... he had... had he just kissed her? Kissed her? Had she misheard? She must have misheard. He had said-- she had thought he'd said there was only a candle. But. But surely he had said that it wasn't a candle. Was there a mistletoe? There must have been a mistletoe. Right? Yes. There had to have been. Otherwise he wouldn't have kissed her. Koby had kissed her.

She could faint.

She almost did, coordination leaving her as the melodic notes died down and and the grace of the enchantment left her stumbling the last few steps into another's arms. It took her a moment to reorient herself to the present, large seafoam eyes blinking away the shock as she looked up to see, "..Theo?" (@Opeila Winters)

She blinked again, blushing furiously at the thought that if she hadn't just imagined it (...which...why would she imagine kissing Fe--er..Felix kissing her.... no no no, that definitely is not something that would ever have occurred to her, they were friends, only friends, friends that shared a sleeping area sometimes and cuddled for warmth and shared food at times, but that was just her being cheeky obviously, and definitely friends, JUST FRIENDS), then that meant that it had actually happened, meaning everyone would have been able to see it.

That realization crashed violently against her, leaving her stammering, "Y-you have-- are having a good dance? It is a very good dance, yes? Very pretty. F- flying candles are petty-- PRETTY. The girls look very nice in the pretty dresses. And-- and the boys! Yes! They-- You look pretty. Handsone I-- I am to say handsone." She giggled nervously, entirely flustered. "The music is sounds good. I am... ehm... I... Ich wundere mich I wonder what... uh... who... writed the music. You think the instrumente make music?" She started looking around. "There are drinks here? I am drink---hungry! For drink! You are too hungry?" She would continue on like this if not interrupted, entirely oblivious to the fact that Theo had recently tried interrupting her kiss with Felix via spell, and the revenge that was likely to come.

Action: error 404 not found

𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙵𝙸𝚃: Reducio

│ │ │

▪ 𝙴𝙽𝙲𝚈 ▪ ▪ FELIX ▪ KOLBECK ▪ ▪ DURMSTRANG iNPC ▪ SIXTH YEAR ▪

│ │ │

𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂: Reducio @Evelynn Decipio as Greta @Opeila Winters as Theo @Dorion Anderson as Everett

In that moment, everything seemed to fade away. There was only Greta, the scent of wildflowers and the brush of their lips meeting. She tasted like cotton candy, a lingering sweetness from the snow cone he had bought her only an hour prior. His fingers tangled into her silken hair, ignoring the pins that scattered below them like fallen stars. When he pulled back momentarily to refill his lungs before kissing her again, his finger caught on her choker, the swift movement to tug it free causing her pendent to fall, discarded alongside the pins like a glittering fragment of stardust.

Greta seemed to be losing her footing, so he would swoop her downwards to try and reposition his arm around her waist, anchoring her against him so she wouldn't fall. He almost didn't notice the spell that whizzed by them. Almost. One eye opened, scanning the crowd. He hadn't seen who cast it, but he had a pretty damn good idea.

Pulling back from their kiss, his fingers still tangled in her now wild tresses, he pressed their foreheads together, blue eyes locking onto her sea green gaze. "They aren't you, Greta." They didn't view the world with the rose-tinted innocence that Greta did. Felix also didn't live in constant fear of Amina or Astrid crumbling into dust and fading away, like the Valkyrie often did in his reoccurring nightmares.

"Nobody is." His voice was barely a whisper, tinged with desperation and affection. His fingers brushed a stray curl from her face before the music tore them apart.

What had he done? He became the very thing he was trying to protect Greta from; some idiot who didn't deserve her. He had acted on impulse and had allowed his emotions to take control. Furthermore, after he had started it he couldn't managed to pull himself away, finding her lips far too intoxicating.

Fuck, he was such an idiot. Why had she kissed him back? Likely because that was the game. Kissing, or... Fuck. She did it to appease him? She must have thought he was some kind of knuckle dragging caveman who couldn't control himself.

Worse than that, what if Greta had feelings for him? How could he begin to tell someone as doe-eyed and sweet as their Valkyrie that they couldn't be together because he was too fucked in the head? If his mother found out and pursued her arranged marriage threats... Well, he would end up damning the both of them. She would be condemned to a life with someone incapable of giving her the happiness she deserved, trapped in the hell of his making.

The cruel irony was not lost on him, how he had tried so hard to shelter Greta from lurking darkness only to be the one to drag her into the shadows. He was a damn monster masquerading as a hero.

Felix's spiral of self despair came to an abrupt halt when the music once again ended. Rett. Not his ex-girlfriend, thank Merlin, he hoped he never had the displeasure of seeing that traitor again, but the Rett who had pretended to be his ex-girlfriend in order to trick him. Is that why he was here? To trick Felix? There was nothing he could say to the Swede that could sway him from the anger bubbling within him. It was with narrowed eyes and a growl he would leer at the shorter, "You."

Felix had grown since their last meeting, standing at 6'3" he towered over the Southern Belle. "Here to try and trick more boys, Peach Boy?" They had to kiss, right? That was the game, and Felix might have been a piece of shit, but he wasn't a loser. If this was the type of asshole he was becoming, well... Best to embrace it.

"This time your 'twin' isn't here to step in--" Felix paused when he saw Theo had his grimy fucking hands all over Greta again. He still was positive that he was the asshole who had tossed that spell at them. He raised a pointer finger to indicate Rett to wait, "Hold on--"

His spare hand slid his wand out of his coat's pocket and aimed it towards Theo, "Petri--." He paused midspell, did he really want to do this? It seemed excessively selfish after what he had just done. Despite the fact that the tight shirt was a damn idiot, he hadn't done anything to Greta. Tossing a jinx at him was also risky; what if it backfired or hit Greta instead? He'd never forgive himself.

Tight shirt man did not deserve Greta. 'But he'll give her more than you ever could.' The voice inside his head reminded him.

"... Never mind." He grumbled, shoving the wand back into the specially made pocket. "We kissing or what?" He was such a romantic, try not to swoon too hard, Rett. "Or are you going to run away again?"

RPING AS CASTELOBRUXO STUDENT MANU MACEDO

“What's worth having is worth waiting for.”
—Brazilian proverb

So the blond boy's name was Felix. Manu rolled the familiar name around on her tongue a moment, far more used to the Portuguese or Spanish pronunciations, Félix. This long eeee sound was not quite so known to her, at least when it wasn't spelt with an i, but for the moment she was just relieved to learn a name she actually sort of knew. So many people at this camp had odd monikers Manu could barely hope to learn, all sorts of consonant clusters and diphthong vowels and - yeah, no, she'd take Felix any day.

"The passion is not a thing that is bad," she assured her partner, albeit with a still semi-confused look still at the kissmonger. She herself was being reassured that nothing was cursed, and that those two - the ones with matching silvery-yellow hair, as if they almost could have been siblings, perhaps - had been dancing for too long. But they have only begun to dance just now, Manu argued in her head, staring as they dipped out of the way of a spell. Who had cast that? Her head whipped around, looking for the source, but she'd spotted it too late. Still, she removed one hand from her partner with a gracious grimace and gripped the handle of her wand, tucked snugly into one of the pockets of her LBD. One could never be too prepared with not-cursed cursed kisses and wild spells being thrown about.

But there was another thing her partner had said; the mistletoe being there for decoration. Now that entirely was a new word for Manu; miss-ul-toe. What about her toes? For one horrified moment, the Castelobruxo student feared that somehow her toes had become visible - she'd worn a hole through Aly's boots or something, and now her feet were on full display. She would have to mend them and apologise to Aly, and worse, she'd have to trek back to the tent through the cold snow if she couldn't find a second to fix them here and now. And then Manu's hazel eyes dropped to look at her feet, and there were no toes in sight, the boots still as shiny and dark and unripped as they had been when Aly had lent them to her earlier that day. Oh. So this missed toe thing was something else entirely, then, a different beast.

She opened her mouth to ask her partner, but then the music decided to up and whisk her away again, her boots stomping and clomping to the rhythm on the ground as she was pulled in a different direction. Luckily, Manu just barely managed to keep a grip on the handle of her wand - cypress hard in her careful grasp, yet also calming, a reminder that all her power was just there at her fingertips should she come to need it in this dance-turned-duelling-ground - as she danced, controlled and uncontrolled, off to a different pair of arms.

The arms in question, when the music ended, turned out to be all too familiar, though shrouded in vaguely unfamiliar and yet no less lovely fire-themed sleeves. Manu followed the flickering flame design with her gaze up the forearms and biceps, over the mesh-covered shoulders and slender neck, all the way to a face she knew too damn well.

"Caralho," Fuck, she said, less of an exclamation and more of a defeated grumble this time around.

Dealla, the girl Manu now held in her arms and yet also at arm's length, had bested Manu two times round - two camps in a row, really - in duels. Why the two girls kept getting paired together, Manu did not know, but she did know two things: that Dealla had some impressive spellcasting chops (hell, Manu had learned to cast spells at two targets at once thanks to watching the Hogwarts girl do it a few times in a row), and that Manu sure as hell respected her, but that didn't mean she had to like her one bit. Maybe she'd defrost a little if she ever managed to beat this girl in a duel.

Still, Manu did respect her, so she turned to her for the answers to her many, many questions, albeit narrowing her eyes somewhat as she did so. "I remember of you. Dealla, no?" she half-queried, half-accused, cocking her head slightly to one side. "Perhaps you know the answer, but it is not of a duel, so perhaps you do not know. The what is miss-ul-toe?" She again glanced down to her boots, just reassuring herself once more that she hadn't ripped Aly's precious shoes and that was why her previous partner had talked about toes. "My friend planned this and told me to sign and even gave to me this shoes, but did not say nothing about the toes." In a flash, she remembered that Dealla actually knew Aly: her Ravenclaw pen pal had mentioned being friendly with the duelling girl, and Manu twisted her lips into a confused frown. Maybe Dealla knew more, after all. "Aly told you of the toes?"

Action: Still being very confused (unmoderated)

STA 11 | EVA 12 | STR 6 | WIS 11 | ARC 10 | ACC 13
The Muggle Condition | Fearless | Advanced Casting
Wandmaker |Perfectionist | Spell Spread