Gala of Mysteries Fall Ball

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Oakleigh had already been bombarded by two people, now a third was walking over to bother her?

Great. This ball was already too much for her anxiety to handle, and now there was more to deal with. The black haired girl was clearly pompous. The way she held herself and the way she spoke. Did this girl think she was better than everyone? The way this girl spat at Oakleigh made her scared.

"Is someone upset that the Demarest boy is here with another?" The girl inquired. How did she know? Clearly someone who enjoyed spying on others. Oakleigh could feel her eyes fill with tears. She didn't want to be called out, especially in front of people who didn't know. She ran the back of her hand over her eyes. Luckily the girl didn't wear makeup, or else it would've smeared. She was so close to screaming and running away, pushing people out of her way. Why was everyone so nosey! However, the blonde girl was fine. She seemed to be the only person that was kind. This arrogant girl had no respect for others. Oakleigh fiddled with a gold necklace on her neck. It was a plain oval pendant with an engraving of a castle on it, flower engravings around the sides. Breathe, Oaks. Breathe. Her brothers voice lingered in her head. How could she breathe in a time like this? She tried to no avail. This pompous, vain, selfish, egotistical girl deserved to get put in her place. Oakleigh was not one to pray for the downfall of others, but this girl needed it. Oakleigh was not going to be the one to do it, however. Oakleigh wasn't going to stoop that low. Her actions at least. Her thoughts would go down that low. Deeper even.

"You will not last a second here if you get upset so easily." What the fuck did this girl mean? She had lasted more than a second. She had lasted since September. Hell, last September before she was pulled out of school by her father! She was older than all other first years. She wasn't going to be treated like garbage. Tears flooded down her cheeks. Anger, pain, annoyance. Everything was effecting her. She didn't want to make a scene. At this pace though, she was going to have to."Ask him for a dance if you want one. I'm sure that blonde can wait her turn."

Oakleigh wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "Just go away. Please." With a softened tone, she turned her head away. She looked at the boy she had gained a liking towards, a part of her wanting to take the lionesse's offer on asking him for a dance. She then turned her gaze towards the doors to leave. She had to leave.

Without another word, Oakleigh turned on her heels and rushed out of the Great Hall and the Gala. It would take convincing to have her go to another ball. She was done with her ball attending days.

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OAKLEIGH EXITS THE BALL

Notes: Reducio Oakleigh leaves the ball. Poor girl. STATS | stamina ◦ 6 | evasion ◦ 7 | strength ◦ 5 | wisdom ◦ 7 | arcane power ◦ 5 | accuracy ◦ 5

Date: Reducio Oct 19th, 2o24.

Mentions: Reducio @Evpraksiya Vinogradova @Aodhan Shaw @Meiyu Xiang @Sanguinius Demarest

word count: 5o7/200

Open to Interaction

It was a good thing that Greta hadn't been eating when Felix tried to explain away the confusion surrounding parental pressure. Tried being the key word given how he swiftly dug a trench suitable for the internal combat he seemed to be setting himself up for, and Greta's level of confusion combusted. The roaring inferno of spiraling thoughts presented itself as the burning blush that turned her cheeks cheery red, mouth briefly gaping. It had very nearly flown over her head, but she had definitely caught the implication preceding the why of his affection. Even then, she was certain she had to be mishearing him. Because there was no possible way that he would be confessing so casually in the midst of so many people.

In fact, there was no way that he would be confessing at all. It was Felix, after all. He didn't love anyone. He just tolerated them. Sometimes while trying not to smile, but still aloof in his own way. Besides, he was too good for her. As much as her mother was trying to push her towards him—she wasn't entirely ignorant of how her mother's approval ratings for the target of Greta's recent infatuations had pivoted seemingly overnight—she never entertained the notion that anything would come of it. Well, okay, she entertained the notions, but in the faraway fantasy land in her head and the pages of her diary.

Ah, there it is. Her lips had sealed, the small smile returned, a mantra of 'I told you so' on repeat in her head as he clarified that he loved her as a friend. That made more sense. Well, it was still Felix, so any sort of proclamation of love clashed as loudly as ruffle-neck lace blouse with a patched leather jacket. But the platonic reminder was sufficient to quiet the sudden girlish notions that had deigned to rear their squealing heads. It didn't help the twist that had developed in her gut, though, nor the quiver she'd had to pull her lips over her teeth to hide. She had merely bobbed her head along, reminding herself that she was just happy to be here, and lucky that out of all of his friends, he'd asked her to go along with him. It was still special.

And fortunately, the talk of the maze and the distraction of food had done wonders to put the angst of that moment out of mind for the time. Finger extended towards the drab looking meal (if it could be called that), she watched nervously as Felix approached the plate with a fork as though the entire thing might explode at any moment. It didn't, and she lowered her finger, leaned in for a better look, and wrinkled her nose. "I bet it is something they feed to prisoners," she agreed, nodding her head vigorously. By the time she straightened, Felix had presented her with the finest gesture a girl could ever receive from a boy. A cupcake, red as a freshly slit vein rose, extended towards her. She had no idea what Red 40 was, assuming it to be the name of the confectioner, maybe, but wasted no time in reaching to pluck the delicious mini cake from his grasp with a wistfully sweet sigh of, "Why thank you my good Sir, however may I repay your kindness," before chomping unceremoniously into the icing.

Happy hums accompanied the swift vanishing act only to be halted by a rather unexpected proposal. "Yew wanna danf?" Greta asked, expression pleasantly surprised as she hastily tried to empty her cheeks of the spongy deliciousness that had still been pocketed therein. Somehow it hadn't occurred to her that while there would likely be dancing at a gala, Felix would actually be one to want to partake. Her gluttonous pursuit suddenly left her feeling rather sheepish as she swallowed and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, clearing all but the smallest smear of red icing that still decorated her cheek.

"I'm done," she suggested almost apologetically, although her sweet teeth would have brashly disagreed had she paid them any heed. "I...didn't know you danced." In fact, in this very moment, she wasn't she if she could dance. Her knees were feeling a little bit more wobbly than was likely good for dancing, and her hands had acquired a clamminess to them that she couldn't blame on the icing. Then it struck her that of course he knew how to dance. He was a pureblood, after all. Her mother had drilled the notion into her head that as a member of society, she would be expected to learn all the dances common of their lot. She'd met his mother. No doubt he'd received the same tutelage. "W-we don't have to, if you don't want to," she murmured, thinking that maybe he'd only suggested the activity to appease her, and uncertain whether or not parental pressure had anything to do with it. But if he really did want to dance, she would be more than eager, quick to smile as he guided her to an open spot on the dance floor.

(Allowing for the change of scenery as described in the moderation post to occur in subsequent posts)

STA 5‏‏‎ |‎ EVA 20‏‏‎‏‏‎ | STR 1‏‏‎‏‏‎ |‎ WIS 12 |‏‏‎ ARC 12‏‏‎ |‏‏‎‎ ACC 20 Perfectionist, Calming Presence [Durmstrang], Lovely Creature Spell Spread, Wandmaker [Thunderbird], Fearless

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Health: 500/500

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Post Tracker: F1, G1, F2, G2, F3, G3, F4, G4, F5, A1, I1, G5

This was, frankly, boring. Everyone might be looking especially pretty, in their own interpretation of the greatest dress/outfit, but they didn't seem to be doing very much of anything. There was a lot of waiting for other people and maybe acting a little nervous around them. It was strange.

And, unfortunately, the information on the back of the space food could only occupy her mind for so long. The paragraphs were fairly short and not nearly as informative as she would have liked. After all, history had always drawn her attention—it was the only way to know what might be coming down the pipe for the world. But this really just rattled off calories and other various health information. It wasn't exciting.

And Halloween should be exciting. She'd always looked forward to going out in the neighborhood and meeting people—or strangers, or wonderful characters. Here, there was no where to go. There was just this hall. And although it was pretty—perfectly suited for the theme—it was just a room. A room filled with moonlight and illusions of bats, gaining in momentum and auspiciousness, was filled too with the poetic voice of a muggle poem. She vaguely recalled it from her time at school.

But even all this showmanship couldn't save the fact that she was alone with the back of a tin space food.

There had to be somewhere more interesting around here—she'd find out where.

Action: Leaving for the Haunted Halls.

Prat was silent as he turned around and remained silent as he met her gaze. "You good?" Alex asked tentatively as the boy continued to look at her with a soft but unreadable expression. Her voice seemed to bring him back to the moment and he complimented her. She smiled at him attempting to hide her nerves. "That's quite a big word, are you feeling alright, Prat?" she said in a teasing manner. "But thank you, you look rather handsome tonight," she muttered a bit quieter as her cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

Prat dusted his hands off, took her hand off his shoulder and held it in his own. His hands were surprisingly soft, possibly even softer than hers. Their eyes met, causing Alex's heart to skip a beat. He smiled at her, and of course, that made the butterflies in her stomach learn to do parkour or something. he felt her heartbeat quicken when he asked her to dance. "I- um, well... Yeah, like- I mean yes, of course," Alex rambled until finally managing to give him an understandable response. That was painful. I know him, why is it so hard to get a single word out around him?

Dancing. That's something she knows how to do. Alex had been receiving ballroom dancing lessons since she was nine. Formal events like this weren't much of an issue. The boy in front of her was, however. She could hardly string a sentence together when she was around him. That doesn't mean I like him though. I mean, I know Kenz said it does, but I don't. How could I? She shook her head slightly as she slowly began to pull Prat towards the middle of the great hall, "Well, c'mon then," Alex said, flashing a grin. "Let's dance."

As they moved further from the startled girl and closer to the dance floor, Eric asked what the game was about. Novalie shrugged, turning to him with a casual smile,
“Oh, I don’t know much about it either. It's about getting murdered or something like that.”

She kept walking, her vague explanation seeming enough for her. But just as she was about to answer his next question, the lights dimmed and a mysterious voice filled the hall, talking about hope, love... and other cryptic things.
Novalie tilted her head, her go-to expression of confusion, trying to make sense of it all.

“What now?”, she asked, but the voice soon faded, the music swelled and a few students started to dance.
Okay, that was weird now.
The girl glanced around the other students. It wasn’t the style of dancing the Ravenclaw girl was used to. She remembered dancing wildly and chaotically with her friends back home, often hand in hand to whatever music they could find. Here, though, everyone was paired up, moving together in sync. She tilted her head the other way now, watching curiously.
Was it really fun to dance like this? Well.. it must be or the others wouldn’t be doing it, right?
Reason enough to try it out!

Without missing a beat, Novalie grabbed Eric’s hand and led him onto the dance floor, grinning with her usual sunshine-bright enthusiasm, “Let’s dance!”
She quickly glanced around to copy the other dancers, doing her best to mimic them. What she didn’t notice, however, was that she’d unconsciously taken on the “lead” role, taking his hand and setting her own on his waist, leaving his hand to rest on her shoulder.
“So… like this, right?”, she asked, completely oblivious to her untraditional approach.
Her green eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked up at him, waiting for his answer, entirely confident in her improvisation.

She was speaking with such....ease...while saying that the game was about murdering. He didn't know whether to be worried, surprised, or just brush it off as something usual at this point. Actually...yeah brushing it off it was....if anything Eric was a fast learner...as in...learn not to question anything Novalie does because it is really better if you don't. Nonetheless it was clear the school wouldn't really allow them to...literally...kill each other, that much was certain...he hoped...but still, most likely the game had to do with finding the killer or something.

Just as she started to say something else, the music changed to a more slow paced one. He was accustomed to some extent to this sort of things, having attended quite a few parties with his parents and seeing waltz (though he was not sure this was also like this, he just supposed so because of how the movements looked) mostly be danced at such situations. It was something he found useless, in the sense that it was really just a formality of sorts. But yeah of course that wouldn't matter now as he soon found himself be lead by Novalie in the dance. I am pretty sure that's not how it works.... To be honest, whether or not Novalie even knew what she was doing was irrelevant, as really Eric's reaction was enough to make it well worth it. He looked like a confused puppy being dragged around, more like lead in the dance as he tried to get his footing right again and not stumble and possibly drag her down as well. Once that was done though he did change a bit starting to take lead a bit, mostly because at least he had some experience, and if she had to dance with him, she may as well start to learn the dance itself properly so she had something to talk about endless afterwards. "Like this..." He slowed down the movements, guiding her hands on where to hold onto him. "It is meant to be a slow dance, not used to that?" It was innocent curiosity, nothing mean meant by it, and it was quite obvious by how serene he looked not really judging her, more so finding it unusual that she either never saw this around or was never really accustomed to this. Then again, they lived very different lives.

Now that he thought about it, he didn't really know...anything about her. Well he didn't really bother to ask either, but that was because he felt like he was intruding in something that was not his business per se. What he could tell for sure is that they had very different upbringings, starting with how carefree and chaotic Novalie was, and how much the opposite Eric was. And yet somehow...some way they were getting along quite fine. Even more than fine if he dared add that. "You are quite a fast learner." he noted after a bit as they began to fall into a sort of rhythm that was more smooth and easier to follow through with.

Elizabeth Leaves

Action: Writing a note about her cat and leaving it on the table; leaving to go to Whispers Of The Dark.

“Like this…”, she heard her dance partner say as he gently guided her hands to his shoulders, slowing their pace to help her match the rhythm.
Novalie relaxed a bit, letting him lead as she tried to catch on. She glanced down at their feet, determined not to step on his toes, even if it meant missing out on looking at his face - which would actually be the correct way to do it.

She could feel herself gradually adjusting to the rhythm.
When he asked if she was not used to this type of dance, the Ravenclaw girl shook her head without a hint of embarrassment. She was hardly the type to take questions the wrong way - even if he had meant it teasingly, she wouldn’t have minded.
Smiling, she replied, “I’ve never danced like this before. Why do people even slow dance?”

Novalie thought back to her idea of dancing, which had always been fast and lively, full of spins and jumps and laughing until she couldn’t breathe. To her, dancing was freedom and fast energy - a chance to let loose, whether with friends or on her own.
But this slow, graceful sway.. had a different charm to it.
There was something calming, almost soothing, about moving with him to the gentle rhythm. She felt her usual high-energy self settle down, allowing her to take in the music and the steady movement of their steps.

When he complimented her on being a fast learner, Novalie felt a warm flush on her cheeks, a little burst of excitement at mastering something new.
She grinned and kept her gaze fixed on her feet, answering playfully, “I’d give that compliment back to you, but I still need to find something to actually teach you. It’s tricky, though - you’re way too smart!”

The girl chuckled, surprising herself with the thought of how many clever friends she’d made here at Hogwarts. It was almost overwhelming, really. They seemed to know so much about… well, everything - be it their studies, ways to talk about complex ideas, or even... dancing. Novalie realized how much she admired them all, and a small wave of doubt flickered through her. They were all so smart, whereas she-
Novalie bit her lip, quickly shaking off the thought and lifted her head to meet his gaze.
Her usual bright smile returned as she let herself focus on the moment.
“So..”, she began, “..where did you learn to dance like this? Have you been to a lot of galas or something?”

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Interacting: @Mathias Pride | @Jack Burnett | @Percival Gray | @Evelynn Decipio | @Hanako Tone

| Outfit: ✿

Mentioning:

English | Irish

Winnie's eyes flickered from her left ring finger to the fox, her hand instinctively reaching for his snout to try and retrieve the ring, but stopping short when her blue eyes locked with the fox's hazel. She had chased many fox away from the chicken coop fence back at her family's farm, but she had never quite seen one that looked like this... The patches of rich red fur and intelligent eyes... Was it possible this fox wasn't actually a wild animal but an animagus like her? Before she could demand answers from a creature that couldn't talk, she saw it dart into the crowd like a crimson phantom.

"T-That fox just stole my ring..." She told Mathias, pointing in the direction the bushy tailed fiend had disappeared. She was preparing to leap forward and chase the fox in her 'hound' form when she heard someone call her name.

Evelynn. Admittedly the Ravenclaw had been ignoring her friend group for a few weeks, and now the guilt felt like a chasm between the two. She had used her silence as a tool to shield them from harsh truths she couldn't bring herself to burden them with. They had told her they would stay by her side after she had shared her fear of abandonment with them and now, she feared a far darker outcome: that they would keep that promise, that they would fight to save her even if it meant their demise.

The redhead forcefully plastered a smile on her face, so focused on appearing to be pleased by her engagement that she hadn't realized she was clinging onto Eve's arm as if it were keeping her anchored during this emotional storm.

She was starting to fray beneath Eve's brigade of questions, although she assumed most were aimed towards Mathias. Every girl dreamed of a fairytale wedding, but somehow Winnie had doubts that Matt would want to get hitched inside of a rustic barn or surrounded by old castle ruins.

He didn't need to know her dream was so simple, however. "Y-Yes, I... I didn't think about that but I will need to plan, I doubt we'd find a castle so last minute-- Oh, we'll need time to save for the wedding so it won't be until well after we've graduated and secured jobs."

"Well, Matt hasn't actually met my family yet." Dear Merlin, at this point she was hoping it stayed that way. He had already mentioned her friends, but her mother was a muggle and so defenseless without magic... Not to mention there was no way she would allow Winnie to get engaged at 16 years old. "Is that a requirement with magical engagements? Oh..."

"T-That won't work... It'd be impossible to get my father's blessing." Surely this was divert Matt's attention towards Fionnagáin Harper if he tried to use them against her. Looks like her father was actually useful for once.

"Mathias, after all we've been through together, how could you do this to me?"

WHAT. THE. HELL. WAS HAPPENING? Her head whipped around to stare at the boy she had yelled at during a game of spin the bottle many, many years ago. Now he was apparently Matt's side boyfriend or something? Well, she doubted it was true, but she was also confused as to why the boy would want to help her. Her gaze flickered to Mathias as if he were a ticking time bomb, then back to Hanako.

Taking a shaking breath, Winnie shot him a look that mingled between irritation and concern, because either way; Matt was going to kill this guy. She had to think fast to try and pull the idiot out of the grave he had just dug himself.

"Oh...! Hahahaha! Oh Mr. Nicknames, you really are such a riot." She tried to sling an arm around his shoulder before realizing she was too short, so instead starting to pat his back, the nervousness in her voice unmistakable, "Now is not a really good time to be pulling pranks."

"What's going on here?"

"P-Percival...!" Shit, no, this wasn't good. Winnie’s heart gave a painful lurch at the sight of the Slytherin, and the concern in his eyes. She hadn't passed him a note in a while, she so supposed it was only a matter of time before he confronted her over it, but here out of all places, in front of Matt? The Slytherin was the only secret she had (presumably) kept from Mathias, and now here he was walking into the lion's den. This wasn't a bible story; Percival was no Daniel.

It took everything she had to hold herself together as she met his gaze. She had to play it cool, try and make Mathias think she and Percival still didn't get along. "If you must know I'm just a bit shaken up because Mathias proposed to me and a fox stole the ring—" When the lights suddenly went out, the Ravenclaw gasped sharply, her arm shooting out to cling onto Percival, “W-What’s happening?!”