Gala of Mysteries Fall Ball

Valentin entered as close to black-clad Nikolai as light moves in tandem with its shadow. Especially since the tragedy of Hogsmeade, the seeker was rarely seen without the other close by. All throughout Nikolai’s process of making his own Albanian homage outfit, Valentin stayed by his side and watched. With each stitch the pieces came together more and more until finally a unified whole could be worn. Simply watching Kol’ka’s process was a meditative act of healing. Like so many virtues, skills, and charming idiosyncrasies he had been discovering of Nikolai's over the past year, the White Niffler found himself happy after finding another aspect to treasure about the boy. Inspired by the gesture but lacking the time and craftsmanship to attempt such a work of art himself, Valentin contacted their butler Sergei to have a garment of his own purchased and delivered before the start of the ball. The seeker had a fondness for wearing historical items and so he already had the contacts to arrange for the delivery of a post-Ottoman Albanian outfit to match the time period of the event. The curved sword that hung from Val’s belt, peace-tied and sheathed, would be known already to those rarest of individuals who had visited the Crystal Tower in Kazan. However, the ‘new’ parts of his outfit consisted of a brilliant scarlet Albanian coat and white fustanella warrior clothes. Speaking with Nikolai earlier, Val mentioned that he would thus honor the blood of martyrs killed at Hogsmeade, as well as those even earlier predecessors whose spilt blood enabled the flourishing of Durmstrang as an institute across the snows which would return to pure white at the fall of each new winter.

Despite the gloom that darkened the creases of Nikolai’s features, Valentin’s eyes bore no fear – not even of losing the one he held most dear. The champion neither clung to nor hovered over his counterpart, and indeed, the aura of confidence and stability about him had never been so striking. An intense tranquility was to be found in his halcyon violet eyes that was familiar yet stunning. Since the turmoil of a slug-plagued summer tumbled into blissful release and then through the nightmare of blazing carriages in Fall, Val's assuring charm had deepened as unfathomably as an ocean trench. It was as if the catastrophe awakened a mysterious latent ability in the captain when it was needed most, but Valentin knew that such a crucible would only burn someone alive without a catalyst. No, in his heart, Valya sensed that the true source of this serenity was new liberation granted by the blood of his blood on that dark day. Just as Nikolai was changed forever, so too would his Valentin never be the same.

“Come, dear Kolen’ka Double diminutive of ‘Nikolai’ – extra sweet nickname. We owe it to Marishka to turn her martyrdom into our strength. I know it’s painful to be here. I feel it too, and it is the same as the darkness that I carried here three years ago. Hurt and self-blame and the urge to disappear into a dark corner consumed me, but for my friends’ sake I forced myself to attend. Yet, it was in resisting this impulse that I began to heal, knowing that I was not alone despite the violent murder of my mother and the equally warped loss of my father. I’m sure I was not the most cheerful company to keep at the time, but it was an act of resisting further destruction. By not letting the blight consume us, we keep the killers from depriving us of more life. Stay close to me, my little dragonheart. You don’t have to be happy. You don’t have to smile. You don’t have to talk. Just hold my hand and be with me, and this simple blessing will begin to warm our frostbitten spirit. This is all I want – to be here together with you.”

Passing a hand through Nikolai’s hair, Valentin smiled gently. They were both deep in the throes of grieving, but in the seeker’s eyes beckoned with a promise: together they could take the road towards well-being once more. Certainly the room was full of intrigue, charming decorations, and atmosphere… but Valentin only truly had eyes for Nikolai. The backdrop could not draw his keen gaze to its details for long, only pausing to mentally mark the exits, any potential hazards, and the statuses of their friends.

It had long been the captain’s habit to first scout out what environment he and his wards were in at any given time. Yet, particularly after the massacre at Hogsmeade, Valentin made himself mentally prepared to serve others in the event of an emergency… and the first requirement for this was awareness. If ever he caught Greta's eye, Valentin would half bow. On finding Felix, Val would smirk and gesture in amusement at his hat. On seeing Astrid and Hans, the captain would hold his hand over his heart in warm greeting. Quietly noting the presence of Colin (and then, with less of a pleased glance, Mathias Pride), Valentin sighed. Lastly finding and nodding at Piérre and Figaro, Valentin was about to reply to Nikolai when he caught the form of Kim Sato from a distance. Blinking twice and swallowing a knot in his throat, Val followed Nikolai’s eyes to a distant table hidden away from the main action of the Great Hall.

“It will make a fine nook, Kolen’ka, and it will please me to join you there. Wouldn’t you care for a little walk to stretch your legs first? It’s been a while since you ate something, hasn’t it?” The gloom hanging over Vol’ka was darker even than his fustanella, causing a glistening worry to shimmer across Val’s bright eyes. The formality of the event was triggering formal language in Valentin unintentionally, but all he could do was shake his head to dismiss such habits. He would have liked for Nikolai to be able to relax, after all, and dwelling on pureblood politics here was neither’s cup of tea. Flicking his gaze back up to Kim Sato, there was a question in the seeker’s eyes. It was then that Val heard the words coming to him through the musical accompaniment:

'I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope- … -for hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting.'

A strange expression passed across Valentin’s face, but his hands were faster than the languid movements of his mind. Already they took both of Nikolai’s and held them dearly. The rich blackness of the boy’s attire was quite soothing to look at, and the prickles gathered on the back of Valentin’s neck began to dissipate.

“Kolen’ka…” A twinge in Valya’s mind felt as if the other’s voice was speaking, but so quietly that no words could be heard. Leaning closer as if it would allow him to hear, the seeker pressed a kiss to the side of Nikolai’s right eye. Soon the boy followed by pressing his face into the shelter of Val’s chest. Raising his arms to pull him in tighter, Val closed his eyes and simply held him there without caring if time would bother to stop for them. Eventually feeling the shorter boy pull back, Valentin knew he would now get to hear his words – and yet … as each one dropped from Nikolai's lips, the seeker felt a rush of déjà vu overcome him, as if he had just heard them and the audible words were mere echoes of a lost voice ricocheting across the architecture of an empty opera hall.

"I love you Val but I don't know what to say. I'm not ok and yet I don't know what to say, I can't speak for how I feel, I can't possibly find the words. Maybe there aren't words. I just feel like shit and there's no way to show you but I know you want to see. I just don't know how to. And every time someone asks me how I am it's like I'm going to implode."

“Kol’ka… my very own heartblood. I love you, and I love you, and I love you, but none of those words suffice. I do want to see. I need this – need to see inside of you, but I too feel the limits of our words. Between us, however, is an infinity just waiting for us to understand how to embrace it. Follow your heart, and somehow I will find my way there with you beyond such constructed confines as language. You are tired, dearest, from fighting this long inner battle over Marishka and the others. Let me take your burdens tonight. Take some time to rest here, as part of our healing. You were brave and kind to come out with me tonight despite the reputation that Hogwarts balls have. I hardly think it has been enough time to be celebrating after such a profound loss in our community – I could even call it insensitive to host such festivities already, but I understand that some people do need to find cheer here tonight. Whatever it is that you and I need in order to move forward, in a direction that will honor the lost… let’s find that here tonight. Together, минем игезәк йолдызым. Tatar: minem igezäk joldyzym ‘my twin star.’”

Nikolai pulled back and cast his eyes to their friends around the room. As he began to fiddle with his fustanella, Vol’ka would not need to make another sound. Val felt the other’s clear impulse to flee to the sidelines. Admiring the adorable fidgeting with Nikolai’s handmade garment of honor, Valentin’s eyes smiled. They’d stood here long enough to gauge whether retreat was merely a panicked reflex or truly necessary for recovery. As Val wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulder’s, Nikolai could almost hear the gesture speaking from within himself: I love you. Let’s go.

Slowly, the pair walked over to the most dimly lit, out-of-the-way vacant table and settled in across an oakwood bench. Still, Val’s head turned to spy Hans in the distance as he heard the words echo in his head:

Out of all those stars in the sky, we only need the Sun to sustain life on this Earth.

Weaving his fingers through some pleats in the black fustanella beside him, Valentin smirked as he finally found his reply.

Even if it takes lightyears of arduous flight, I will make the brightest star my very own sun.

Basic Stats:
STA 8 - EVA 20 - STR 3 - WIS 20 [24] - ARC 1 - ACC 18
Keen Eye / Charmer / Evasive Maneuvers / Fearless / Comprehend Languages: Parseltongue & Veela
Inventory: A silver locket, a longer handmade necklace with a serpent theme, a silver earring from the Horntail Horde piercing excursion, a golden ring from Yefim, a wand, a copy of Romeo’s medical notebook, Oakshaft 79.

Godmods between Val and Nikolai are consensual across all threads. Val’s dialogue takes place in primarily Russian with scattered Tatar segments.

Action: Talking with Nikolai. Also making distant greetings, observing the scene, and making a strange face at @Kim Sato.

Movement: Entering and moving with Nikolai to a remote corner table

Appearance: Albanian post-Ottoman attire with a sheathed and peace-tied scimitar; wearing a historical white fustanella with a brilliantly blood-red overcoat

Reducio

Open to interaction with anyone. OOC I anticipate, welcome, and encourage others to interact with Val IC.

october nineteenth|outfit	english|french
interacting|@Aurélie Duval @Ophelia Northwell mentioning |	calming presence, keen eyes |260.200

A huge smile spread across Peter’s face as Aurélie jumped up high, and whipped around to meet him. The French girl’s actions made her look scary so in mock fear, Peter backed up, a fake look of horror on his face. Then he laughed with Aurélie, his sides heaving for air.

Aurélie ran to wrap her arms around him, and this time it surprised him though it probably shouldn’t have but Peter hugged her back. He smiled even larger now and he suddenly wondered, Isn’t this the time my cheeks start hurting?? But they didn’t. Smiling, he realized was no pain now, especially when he was smiling at this French girl. No other French girl. This firey, kind, sweet, funny girl with a smart mouth. Eyes alight with amazement for her, Peter hugged her tighter.

Pulling back, Aurélie had exclaimed, “You look great!”

Peter beamed again and said, “Thanks but you know who looks better? You! What a beautiful dress, and you look as pretty as always. ” He then glanced at her dress again. If Aurélie would like to, Peter would bring it up soon about, later if it was Welsh practice time. He was wanting to teach her.

No time later, Aurélie turned to sweep her gaze across the room. Peter mirrored her actions to see the whole floor. Then Aurélie asked the Welsh boy whether he wanted to meet someone or spend time with the one and only French girl. “What about spend time together? ” He asked, his bright green gaze was set upon Aurélie again.

ROLEPLAYING AS BEAUXBATONS iNPC AURÉLIE NATHALIE DUVAL

Peter Smith (@Brookline Quinn) Closed to Interactions

sta 6 | eva 9 | str 6 | wis 8 | arc 6 | acc 7 fearless, perfectionist

"french" | "english" | thoughts | "others"

action. leaving to go to the Whispers of the Night game with Peter Smith

┌─────────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────────┐

For a moment, Aurélie wondered if she'd actually convinced Peter with her angered face. Well, some of the anger was real. She did have a temper after all, but she hadn't meant to take it out on him. But when he joined in on her laugh easily, she knew that he hadn't felt offended. Good, she thought. A lot of people didn't understand her, her sense of humor and her actions, but Peter did. Quite easily honestly.

Peter's hugging ability had improved in a few days, Aurélie noted-- not that she was paying attention. She just could feel the difference pretty easily, how he squeezed just like she did. And when he complimented her back, the French girl felt her face heat, just slightly. It was definitely the temperature in the room that made her feel so, not at all having to do with the boy who stood in front of her.

"Aw, thanks!" She laughed, at his opting for spending time together. How she wanted to do that too, but she'd just remembered that they'd both signed up for one of the ball games that the committee had planned. Some sort of murder mystery. They'd obviously have to go there first, finish up the game, and then enter the ball again.

"Let's go to that murder mystery game first? Then I'll show you my dancing skills." She winked before walking off with Peter.

└─────────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────────┘

With every step, Novalie felt her confidence in the dance growing.
Occasionallly, her gaze would drift down to check her footing, but she found herself looking up at Eric more and more, listening to his words. From what he described, those formal galas didn’t sound all that exciting - more like gatherings his parents had dragged him to. She could just imagine how dull it would be, stuck making small talk and hearing adults go on about the most irrelevant things. Grown-ups were seriously so boring most of the time. Why in the world was that? The girl hoped that she'd never become like .. that.

Well, Novalie was glad that at least this gala at Hogwarts was different - full of excitement, friends and, of course, the thrill of an upcoming game! When Eric asked if she’d ever attended a gala with her family, Novalie shook her head, unfazed.
“No, I have never been to anything like that.”, she replied, her tone light, “The closest were the parties my friends and I would throw together.”
Her smile brightened as she remembered. Every time she and her friends would play outside, they’d make up the wildest adventures, imagining themselves in castles or draped in 'royal' gowns they’d crafted from bits of old fabric found in abandoned houses around their neighborhood.

As they swayed to a pause in the music, the Ravenclaw glanced around, spotting some of her friends slipping out of the hall. Her eyes widened with excitement - that meant the game was about to begin, wasn't it?!
Novalie stopped, looking up at Eric with a wide grin,
“Looks like it’s starting! No time to sign up now, so you’re just going to join my group. Don’t worry - it’ll be fine!”
Without waiting for him to respond, she grabbed his hand and began to rush toward the exit, giggling to herself as she pulled him along.

Interacting with @Aria Wright
Elvenia speaking: #025c70
Thoughts: Italics

Elvenia stepped into the grand hall of the Gala of Mysteries, a sense of awe brightening her blue eyes as she took in the transformation. She felt as if she'd entered an enchanted world from a century past, the flickering candlelight casting warm shadows, heavy with the scent of autumn leaves and faintly sweet spices. Every corner of the hall seemed alive with murmurs and laughter, with guests wrapped in beautiful dresses.

Her champagne-colored gown, a delicate blend of elegance and shimmer, fit perfectly into the evening’s rich atmosphere, catching the light with each graceful step. She’d chosen the dress carefully, knowing how it would bring out the sparkle in her eyes. It also had an ethereal quality to it. She was determined to make this night one of memories and magic.

Elvenia’s gaze drifted over the guests, searching for her friend, Aria Wright. Thoughts of the fun they'd had planning this night together brought a smile to her face. A tiny pang of worry crept in..had Aria changed her mind? But Elvenia quickly pushed it aside, reassured by the promise they'd made to make tonight special.

As she waited, she admired the lavish banquet tables, lined with savory delicacies and sweets she couldn't wait to taste. The ball felt surreal, almost dreamlike and her excitement only grew as the music began, gentle at first, then swelling into a lively melody. For a brief moment, she imagined herself dancing through the crowd, her gown swirling like starlight. All that was left was for Aria to arrive and the night would be perfect!!

262 words

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───────────────────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅─────────────────── .─ STATS Reducio Sta 6 ❅ Eva 6 ❅ Str 7 Wis 9 ❅ Arc 5 ❅ Acc 7 ABILITIES Reducio Keen Eye (In Effect) Charmer (In Effect) OUTFIT Reducio OOC NOTES Reducio . ── ───────────────────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅───────────────────

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Setting up this thing had been exhausting. Little did Eugenia know when she raced to get as many points as she could, becoming top badger for that month, to get in the Fall Ball planning committee. Yet, after all this hard work, she really did question whether she wanted to go at the ball. It was something she was considering a lot. With all the recent events and deaths at Hogsmeade, including Headmasters of Foreign Schools, and the stabbings last Fall Ball, it was all a dangerous thought. But, work that took months couldn’t be missed. And despite the possibility of danger, she really wanted to see the original and true “Hogwarts Ball Experience”.

So she went, dressed up in a blue dress, with a summery vibe, a square chest line and 1950s style. Well, this was the theme, vintage stuff. And the blue colour was for her home country, sun-kissed Greece. She’d wear the flag with pride, but in a British House, she could show much. So she had to be mindful of their clichés, and stay quiet about it. Though she loved hinting it indirectly, that is to say. Accompanying her outfit with her hair down, wavy style, a pair of pearl earrings and a matching necklace, she entered the ball.

Winking at Archer, fellow ball planner, and waving at her friends, she walked in gracefully. It was a ball, after all, she had to show her “proper manners”. The girl looked up in pride. She loved it. It was a bit darker than she’d like, but still perfect. She walked in and gazed at everything, contemplating what she should do. Πω πω… Τέλεια! Wow! Perfect!. Looking around once more, she noticed a pair of boys wearing.. What? A fustanella! Eugenia immediately recognised it, it was the similar to clothes of the Τσολιάδες, revolutionary soldiers from 1821…

Many Balkan countries had such things. Oh, the opportunity. One of the boys, the one with the black, went and sat down (presumably) and the other, with the white ones, stayed there. Perhaps some talking? She walked closer and noticed the albino boy’s skin, one that her perfect memory recognised as the one off the Durmstrang seeker at Summer Camp. Being a new Quiddich Player, she wanted to know more about the sport. And she went to the Durm vs Ilver-Beux game. Approaching him, she unwillingly switched to Greek. This was surely interesting.

Το φέσι σου λείπει. Ωραίο ρούχο. Καμία σχέση με Βαλκάνια; The fez is the only thing missing. Nice outfit. Any connection with the Balkans? She then realised she had switched in language. No, he was from Durmstrang and probably not Greece. Her mother, once a student there, taught her Russian, in case she had to go there. And she did know some things. Finally comfortable speaking, she began. Hello. I-I was walking around and noticed your outfit and I recognised you from the matches. You know, Quiddich. I play too. She smiled. Do you have any connection with the Balkans? I’m Greek and our Tsoliades wear this. I kinda recognised it. Sorry if I bothered, I’m not the most fluent Russian speaker. hah.

Eugenia smiled tentatively and looked up. Maybe he would answer or ignore her. Only time would tell.

xxx

Pings: @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood Valentin Schnell
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Sta: 8 — Eva: 7 — Str: 2 — Wis: 10 — ArcPow: 6 — Acc: 8
— Perfectionist I — Evasive Maneuvres —
Action: Entering Ball, attempting to talk to Val.
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Outfit: xxx
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Banner by Ernest Baird

Open to Interaction

"Hey, you missed a spot."

"Hm?" It took a moment for words to click, Greta initially tipping her chin to look down leading to believe maybe she'd accidentally gotten a spot on her dress. His rising hand registered a fraction before it connected to cup her cheek. The touch threw the rhythm of her heart down the stairs and sent her tumbling down with it, light-headed and weak-kneed. Chin lifting with the brush of his finger, she met his gaze, breath held. For several precious moments, all she could see was him, his heavenly visage haloed by the chandeliers behind him, swimming in and out of a blurred dreamscape. She almost wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't imagining things, but was certain she wouldn't have been able to move even if she'd tried.

Too soon, he withdrew, leaving behind a fresh wave of goosebumps and a an ache that almost felt like disappointment, though Greta couldn't imagine why. "W-well.. it's not that I don't think you want to," Greta stumbled meekly, still feeling a bit dazed and hot and cold all at the same time. "I mean you wouldn't have asked if you didn't want to.." Her fingers plucked idly at a strand of hair that had been pulled forward when Felix withdrew his hand from her cheek. "You're not the sort to let someone tell you what to do..." She was rambling, words spilling forward before she could really filter them for redundancy. "And I know how frustrating it can be to deal with certain expectations and have to fill roles you didn't choose for yourself, and I just don't want you to have to do something you don't want to do--Not that you don't want to do it!--I just don't want to be someone else's unwanted obligation again.."

Her poor attempt at a backtracking found itself challenged by the teasing smirk he rested upon her, self-awareness that he wasn't actually asking for some sort of explanation only dawning mid-way through her word vomit. The presentation of his arm deftly subdued her circling into a gradual decline of barely audible muttering, then halted it altogether. Insecurity had reared its head knowing full-well exactly how pureblood rearing could go, and how her presence through the years (mostly earlier years) had been more tolerated than welcomed. Sometimes she still couldn't help but feel the treatment she received was less about her and more about living up to societal expectation or familial obligation. Sometimes she forgot that those with whom she had since surrounded herself did not exactly play by the rules.

"You could never be anything other than perfectly you," she whispered, fully convinced that it would be impossible for him to be a shitty date even if he was trying to be. Any lingering doubt would be abolished the moment she felt herself pulled forward into a dancer's warm embrace. It was hard to feel anything but absolute elation in the glow of his easy presence. The extravagance of the Great Hall, the golden glow of a hundred candles in gleaming chandeliers, the ambiance of couples sharing a romantic night dressed in finery, serenaded by an ethereal group from beyond the veil... It swept her away into the very phantasies she'd spent so many hours and days therein wrapped. It was a dream come true. She might not have been dressed in a ballgown trimmed with lace and diamonds, but with the warmth of the gems at her throat and a handsome prince leading her step, she felt every bit a princess.

Then fog began to engulf the room, shadow casting it into darkness. It took until about half the candles had been doused before Greta realised what was happening. Delight shifted to fear in an instance, the hand upon his shoulder sliding down to grasp quite unintentionally at his shirt as her head swiveled in search of a source or explanation for the change in scenery. "What's going on?" Her voice wavered, the whisper easily heard against the absence of music. Thoughts careened back to the explosions upon their arrival, fear of the unknown and the sudden unexpected shift in environment driving her to seek assurance, and since the last time she'd been in any grave danger, it was Felix who had pulled her out of and guarded her against it, instinct sought her to seek the shield of his arms again.

Then someone started speaking loudly, perhaps making some sort of demands? "What is he saying?" she wondered, peering up at Felix in search of explanation. Many of the words had been familiar to her, but she couldn't make sense of what was being said. To exacerbate her confusion, bats fluttered chaotically above and the music restarted, louder and faster than before. "I don't understand.."

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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