| Note: Thoughts, English, Korean, Jung-Hwa Park, Russian | Mentions: Linnéa Kolbeck
| Interactions: Open |

Nabi had just arrived from Hogwarts when her mother informed her she was to attend a Christmas party with them. "Mother, I just got back not too long ago. Must we attend this...party?", she was in no mood to attend any party. All she wanted was to enjoy the silence away from Hogwarts, of course, her mother had the final say. Mrs. Park looked at Nabi and said sternly, "Yes, end of discussion. Remember Nabi, you are the future of this family. Act like it. Perhaps Boram will be in attendance as well." Nabi looked up at her mother as soon as the familiar name was mentioned, "Do you think she will go, mother? Last I heard she is to be in a packed schedule this winter break". With a hum, very similar to that of Nabi's usual monosyllabic responses, "We shall see. The party is in two days, I have picked out the dress for you...I hope you like it." Without another word, Nabi watched her mother leave her bedroom.

The day of this party arrived and Nabi stood in front of a mannequin that displayed the dress her mother had designed for her. Oh how I dislike glitter and shine... She glanced over the intricate sequins on the dress, the black jewels sewn onto the fabric so they would shine perfectly under the lights. If it were up to her, she would have chosen a dress without jewels, but of course what those of her kind dress to impress always.

She hummed to herself, a soft melancholic tune, something she is rarely seen doing, as she got ready for the party. I am not even in acquaintance with these people... She huffed and finished getting ready before meeting her parents downstairs in the lounge room. Her parents hastily made their way into their carriage; if there was one thing her mother hated more than anything in this world, it was a missing detail, unpunctuality being a crucial detail.

"Who did you say this people were, Mother?" Nabi glanced at her mother for a response, she knew that the people in attendance were people her parents seemed to know from when they used to attend Durmstrang. "You have met them before when you were younger, Nabi. All you must know for now is the Kolbeck Manor, they are the hosts of the party". Nabi hummed in response, unsurprised by her mother's bland responses, her mother has always been quite serious. It is no surprise Nabi is very similar to her, her father often jokes that Nabi is the mini version of her mother.

The carriage finally arrived at the Kolbeck Manor, The estate is beautiful, I like how it is over the lake... Her eyes looked at the red stone walls, Oh the secrets it must hold...I wonder if they also have passageways. She quietly followed her parents out of the carriage and towards the main entrance, taking in every detail she saw.

She gave the house elves her coat and thanked them in a monotone. Sure house elves were not considered equal but that does not mean she is to treat them poorly, after all, they are of use. Nabi stood beside her parents as her parents greeted a lady she assumed was the Lady of the Manor.

"Hello Mrs. Kolbeck..." Nabi gave a slight nod at her in respect. "Thank you for the invitation." After waiting for her parents to finish talking, she followed her parents inside before her mother looked at her.

"Remember you represent our family, do not bring dishonor."

"Yes mother." Nabi bowed in respect before her parents went off to mingle with friends and acquaintances of theirs. Goodness I already want to leave... Her eyes landed on the large Christmas tree standing tall at the center of the room, like a moth to a flame she fixated her gaze on the shining lights and ornaments that decorated the tree.

Post Tracker: 1 2 3
I'm not cut out for all these cynical clones...
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No wonder all the purebloods surrounding her had such slender necks. As Aly's head and the stranger's bobbed back and forth, each inclining slightly to show acceptance or humility or whatever highbrow emotions one was supposed to feel here, she couldn't help but think of how much the nodding muscles must be used by someone who spends a lot of time in such an environment. So lost in this admittedly irrelevant tangent of thought was she that Aly hardly noticed the man's dry tone or nearly raptorial gaze, but she did notice when he extended a hand to guide her onto the dance floor. Once more, her face grew warm. Oh - he meant now? Merlin, these pureblood boys don't mess around. Still, she let embarrassment control her not at all, and Aly graciously accepted the stranger's hand; how close he had stepped to her was not lost on her, and in fact sent prickles down her arms, goosebumps raising tenderly on pale skin beneath lace sleeves. Yes, there was something about this one. Something different than the game-playing youths in her year at Hogwarts. Something... polished, perhaps, or... mature, or... haunted. Again, she shivered beneath the full force of his gaze, but it was not unwelcome.

"You seem to know me better than I know myself," the Ravenclaw quipped as she followed him unto the dance floor, trying to ignore how clammy her palm was growing in his grasp. A more formal way of speech seemed to come naturally to her now, no doubt a mirrored reflection of his own pedantic form of language. "I used to quite enjoy working with earth, though I must admit my penchant for gardening has faded as of late in favour of the stars. I hope to discover all their secrets, one day. And, apparently, so would you." She had taken his commentary to mean he was a fellow lover of astronomy, rather than someone utilising her favourite subject as a means to get to her. Oh, woe upon the oblivious.

As they stepped together, growing closer, Aly reached up her hands to place them gently in the proper position for a dance: one here, one there, her arms outstretched due to the tall frame of the man who frankly towered over her. Glancing upwards at him, almost through her lashes as she tried to not coax forth a crick in her neck from the awkward angle, the teenager breathed, almost as if she dared not say the words at full volume lest fate take them as a challenge: "And as for curiosity, I shall take the risk of ruin if it means I may hold hope for revelation."

Fate may not have taken up the provocation, but would he?

The pair twirled around the dance floor, a grateful Aly letting the stranger lead, as she had danced fairly rarely during her matriculation - a bit here and there with her father in the kitchen to old Weird Sisters songs, once with an ex and once with a friend, but not much more than that. For the first time in her life, she sent a silent thank-you to her mother for forcing her through a few of the more common steps the day before upon her return home to Welwyn Garden City; she hadn't thought that she would end up dancing here, but Hesper clearly had had more foresight than she. He made another comment about her grandmother, and dumbly, she responded with her usual, awkward, "It's astronomically accurate," before promptly shutting her trap. He probably didn't care about the likes of the charmwork that had gone into the dress, unlike Rose... the thought of the Connor sister made Aly's eyes flick to where she had left Finn and his sister without a second thought at the prospect of a real live dance, and the stranger responded in kind as if he had read her mind, reassuring her that they would be fine.

Relief washed over her, mixed with confusion - how had he known of her worry? - but that all faded away when he insinuated that the Connor siblings would be better-equipped to handle the cutthroat tendencies of a pureblood ball than Aly herself. Brows furrowing with righteous indignation, Aly drew herself to her full (albeit still quite short, next to him) height and pursed her lips into a very Hesper-like frown. "I'll be just fine, thank you very much. I can handle myself-" But before she could truly work herself into a tizzy, his tone was once again reassuring, complimentary almost. Just like that, the anger was gone, and Aly smiled. Burn brightly. I like that. Looking up at him once more, she allowed herself, for the first time in their interaction, to truly offer up a part of herself, her enchanting charm, the smallest flirtation: "I hope you aren't among those looking away."

With that, the last note of the song - had it really gone away so fast? - faded into the still air, and all around them, partners Aly had not even noticed separated from each other with thanks and bows. Aly's partner stepped away from her before she could so much as react, leaving her arms floating abandoned where they had once been in place with his, and she let them drop listlessly to her sides. Had she done something wrong, said something too coquettish or bold perhaps, or was it just simply the end of their time together as regulated by pureblood tradition at these sorts of events? She almost missed when he bowed slightly to her, but training prevailed, and she dropped into a curtsy, her eyes landing on his shoes just as he spoke his name.

Athanatos.

Her eyes snapped back to his in an instant, but too late - he was already gone, this Vladimir lad, vanishing into the crowd as slyly and as serpentine as if he had grown scales and slithered away. Though it could not be said that Aly was well-acquainted with the various wizarding families of pureblood lore, nor had she been an avid reader of the Daily Prophet until about a year before when she'd first made the Hogwarts Headliner staff, she nevertheless did recognise the surname: one of the eldest, largest, and most formidable, if somewhat infamous, of the world's magical families. One of them had just made the Prophet a few days before for snogging none other than Finn himself, though based on the first name and age difference, clearly not this one. A brother, perhaps? A cousin? But another recent article was there, nagging at her brain... November, which had mentioned one Vladimir Athanatos, a man brought back from the dead. Now she remembered from whence she knew him: the masquerade ball back in the spring, at which Evelynn had warned her off from the 'dead man'. Perhaps most of the wizarding population would have steered clear of him having made the connection, but Aly could only think of one thing: He lives in Hogsmeade. Maybe, if I didn't scare him off, I'll run into him again.

Eve doesn't tell me how to live my life. I do.

A smile draped lazily across her face, she herself turned and left the dance floor, making a beeline for the snacks, which was always a safe place when it came to avoiding elbow-rubbing and scandal. Even if she did nothing else for the rest of the evening, Aly would certainly call this ball a success, after all, even if she hadn't wanted to be here as of forty minutes ago.

threading as Johannes Sauer
speaking in russian german unless specified

As a teenage delinquent and resident scourge to wizarding logic everywhere, Johannes had never truly lived up to the fine pureblood life of his peers. Rarely home to begin with, even holiday breaks saw him spending more time loitering around Frankfurt's skateparks and movie theatres with friends than mingling with high society. Visiting family in Berlin often consisted of more polished silver and dodging cigar smoke than stepping over pretty dresses. For this blueblood deficiency, despite his grandfather's enforced etiquette lessons, receiving an invitation to a Christmas-themed ball hosted by Felix's family felt exactly like getting dunked in ice water.

For one, Johannes didn't have a single light-coloured suit in his near-vicinity, let alone in the black hole of his closet. Trust him, he had checked and found only medium-hole fishnet and studded belts. Was dark blue and black appropriate for a winter theme, or was it too sombre? Could white be enough to balance it out? Thank god for the advance warning— mix and matching took a surprising amount of closet-trashing. Much less easily arranged was the issue of gift-giving etiquette. He barely knew Felix's family except by general vibe (it was an expensive, Kolbecks-as-a-unit vibe) and most generic options seemed inadequate. He was not carrying a bottle of wine around, not when the Kolbecks definitely had better ones, and chocolates were even more out of the question. If he'd only been expected to Secret Santa their oldest son, things would have been less complicated...

Fortunately for the health of his public persona, Johannes' reluctant plan of completely forgoing material gratitude had been easily foiled by his grandfather, who had seemed absolutely scandalized by his empty-handedness. Stopped at the door, the Hellhound had been sent on his way with but a shopping list-like recommendation and a shoulder pat. Truthfully more weirded out by his grandfather's unusually hands-on approach than the directness of his task, Johannes had taken the instructions as gospel in navigating pre-ball preparations. The florist, who had definitely been closed for last-minute commissions, had asked some bizarre leading questions as he'd stalled for time...

Bereft of the usual pureblood pomp and splendour of magical carriages, it was... not entirely clear how he found his way to Kolbeck manor, but at least he was here. Fashionably late, as customary for the Hellhound, but present nonetheless. It would have been more surprising for him to be early than on time, by this point. (Insomnia Roll: 4hrs)

“Thank you for the invitation, Ma’am. The estate's decorations look fantastic.” All honest charm and adjusted pleasantry, Johannes greeted Mrs Kolbeck in English with a degree of politeness typically absent from his usual interactions with adults. Alexander Manfred would have had a stroke if he knew how crude the Hellhound normally was. Yet here, representing not only his family but the quality of Felix's friends, he could take no chances. “This is for you— My grandfather sends his regards to you and your family.” He offered the bouquet* to Lin, secretly (exceedingly) glad to be free from the awkward experience of holding flowers while being escorted by a little house elf. The last time he’d visited the estate, he'd had been on his very best behaviour— that is to say, Johannes had felt so abstractly uncomfortable with the formality that he’d perfected the art of respectful avoidance. It was easier to keep up the impression of distracted politeness when surrounded by a crowd of his lamer, more parent-adept peers. This time, though there were far more people attending than he'd expected, Johannes didn't have the privilege of melting into unremarkableness. With Felix missing from his mother's side (where the hell was he, that traitor?), he could pretend to be a good influence.

If Lin wasn't totally offended by his mere existence (and if he was freed from the hell of parent conversation), he'd escape to the ballroom proper. Luckily for Johannes, there seemed to be more known faces than not, even within the obvious pureblood circles Mrs. Kolbeck frequented. Would it be strange for him to say that Durmstrang's heavy preferences toward magical lineages had its benefits? He had expected more terrible small talk, but it appeared that he'd only have to suffer through fancily dressed mingling. And third-wheeling. So many potential matches to carefully skirt around, including (expectedly) the honoured prince and princess of the ball. Felix and Greta, as they often seemed to do, looked awfully cosy whispering about something or another to each other. Unwilling to further subject himself to slow-burn spectatorship without a light at the end of a tunnel, Johannes' attention swung away from the almost-couple with a practised discomfort well-trained from years of witnessing situationships orbit about each other. They could do their thing over there and hopefully figure it out quickly enough to be properly greeted later.

In his embarrassed dramaticism, the Hellhound's wandering gaze caught sight of Valentin who, silver-clad and white-haired as always, seemed to sink into the holiday spirit of winter blues a bit too much for comfort. If someone were to throw Cupid into the snow, Johannes wasn't exactly sure if the other could be found again. Embodying less of Durmstrang's brilliant truth-comet and more of a prettily-decorated, wrung-out towel, Valentin's exhaustion seemed out of place for so early into the night. Struck with curious concern (and a fair amount of relatability), Johannes flagged down a server to fit himself with drinks before approaching deliberately. Poor man, with his head against the table like a child who'd outstayed their patience at a party. If he had free hands, he'd give his sympathies. Carefully setting a glass of water on the table in Valentin's direct eyesight, Johannes ignored the table setting to lean comfortably against a plush chairback. To himself, he kept a flute of champagne. “Rough week, Kapitän?”

*For our flower-meaning fiends, it's a bouquet of Spartacus amaryllis, pink carnation, white poinsettia, holly berries, cedar and pine sprigs!! If it's OOC a terrible looking combo... Well, I tried, blame the florist and not Johannes.

Outfit Reference

Reducio

(without cane, cross and glove)
(featuring LC + Charmer)

date: -

mentions: Reducio @Nabi Park

Outfit

@Vladimir Athanatos @Cassius Eden
Note- Opeila's hair is mostly white at this point.

It was one of those winters, or so Opeila had thought. Since her little runaway shenanigans from the summer before, the Virtanens had her return to Finland at every opportunity, and it was no different over Christmas. The last stays had been surprisingly pleasant- or maybe... not so surprising actually.

After all of Opeila's pleading and complaining had not reached her guardians, her running away actually seemed to have. They had never treated her badly, but they refrained from making big decisions over her head. They had cancelled her betrothal. They generally gave her more space and freedom than before.
And Opeila, tired of uphill battles, had quit rebelling against them. Gotten closed with Lysander again. Generally, this holiday had been quite fine so far.

The invitation, addressing Opeila had come as the biggest surprise probably. Opeila was the ward, practically the daughter of Lord and Lady Virtanen, so wherever the family was invited, Opeila was as well, but she had never received a personal invitation to an event. After all- she was not a pureblood.
Her first instinct was to just throw it to the side, let Hilja Virtanen write a response, declining the invitation. She had imagined that her guardians would feel the same way, until Hilja entered her room one evening for a chat.

With her approval, Opeila agreed to go. Why not? It would be nice to be at an event without her guardians or grandfather watching her every move. Hilja helped her to get ready, get a dress, style her now nearly completely white hair- which Opeila was still not used to- and book a room near the event, but it was still far away enough for her to not want Opeila to travel alone. Lysander and Annika agreed to accompany her, seemingly also happy to get away from Lord and Lady Virtanen for a bit. There had been a lot of wedding talk at mealtimes, despite it still being months away and Opeila was getting the impression that Annika was getting more and more apprehensive of the day.

Maybe she would also get a chance to talk to her future... step-sister in law?... on this little trip abroad. Annika never really seemed to get a lot of privacy in the Virtanen house nowadays, with either Lysander or Hilja around her almost all the time.
Opeila had also owled Cassius, assuming that he'd have received an invitation as well, asking him if he would go with her. In that way it was almost a shame that her guardians weren't coming- they'd certainly approve of Cassius.

The first thought Opeila had upon entering the Kolbecks' ball room was that they were certainly not early. It seemed that many of the guests had already arrived and the three new arrivals could blend in pretty unseen. Once more she tugged at her dress, so it would sit right, ran one hand over her braided hair and followed Lysander and Annika into the room.
Others did not remain as unseen... Opeila let go of Lysander's arm and made her way through the crowd. She had kept an eye on the young man for years, she would probably recognize him anywhere at this point.

Quickly she would catch up with him. Nervousness rose up inside her as she addressed him. "Athanatos?" He had never answered her letter. Had he even received it?

xxxxxx

Banner by Winnie Outfit/Physical Characteristics Reducio Languages German English Russian French Age 16 Mentioning/Interacting @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood as Valentin Schnell Location Kolbeck Manor IC Date Christmas xxxxxGellert had returned home to the farm with great pain and frustration, a cloud upon his head. His soul was desperate for answers to morality, whether his heart was pure or it was forever ruined. Gellert was tired of life and he felt like an olive pressed till its very last breath. This year had been tragedy after tragedy And now Gellert felt like he could shatter any moment. The explosions at Hogsmeade had shocked his world, breaking him out of his desperate attempts to find love to a goal to heal as many people as possible. During the ball, he had desperately ignored the festivities and instead sought people that were also refusing to join, people who would help him learn how to use the healing spells and to help these hurt and broken people, people just as broken as he is. He had met a young man who went by Tris by some. Tris was a healer intern at Hogwarts and he had a very unique goal: muggle and muggleborn equity. It was strange to Gellert but Tris was a very talented and dedicated individual, being both a healer intern and care of magical creatures intern. xxxxxTristan was a Pureblood with very clear vision that was entirely different from any other wizard out there, and Gellert needed that passion and determination that Tris had for his own wish and goal. So, Gellert had chosen to ask for the other teen’s help. During the ball, as well as through owl exchanges, Gellert began to listen to the advice of the other, understanding the sacrifices Tristan believed he should make to better the world. Perhaps Gellert should also lay down everything he wanted and was for the betterment of others. In this moment, Gellert was anxious, because he knew there was one secret that he had dared to protect for the sake of his own life, and he was sure that it had hurt others. He had spent the last few months of his life healing people at Durmstrang, whether by body or soul, yet the moment he came back home to this farm on the outskirts of magical Hesse, Germany, he was implicit in hurting others. He had stared into the eyes of Otto every single day for the past month and said nothing. This month of looking into this brother of his who was so similar to himself, so similar that it scared him that he would be like his brother, and do what he had done, do the unthinkable. But for now, he had a ball to attend to, a ball to see the people he loved, to lose himself in, to yearn for and to die for in the same moment. Perhaps for once, he will let himself relax and fall in love with someone new. He will love with fierce affection and forget the pains of Pyre for just one night. For just one night, Gellert would let himself do what he wanted rather than what he should. Perhaps for just one Christmas party, he could be happy. Gellert slowly got dressed in the blackest of robes, with a strange leathery look. It was to reflect his mourning, the wrestle within his soul, the back and forth he had felt since Pyre. xxxxxGellert then took inspiration from the Weird Sisters and borrowed his mother’s makeup to disguise himself in a look no one had ever seen on him before, making him look like a stranger. He wanted to both be Gellert fully for the day, but to also be someone else entirely. He put on a golden masque suitable for a masquerade ball rather than a Christmas soirée, hiding his features and changing him to a secret beauty. He quickly made his way towards the Kolbeck manor striving to make it fashionably on time. He arrived by broom as he snuck out of the farm rather than have to endure the looks of his brother and family. They were not against a male lover, only that there was a need for an heir, due to the tragic loss of life that had occurred on the noble side of the family. There were no male sons on the mother’s side, and now that Otto had lost his reputation, Gellert was the new heir of the Schmitt noble family, and there was no choice but for him to continue the line. The requirements were that the son could not be adopted and that it had to be a blood relative, so sadly a male lover would just not do. It was all a chance of fate that led this burden upon him too young. He entered the manor, where the house elves took his coat and he entered. He saw someone he knew, the few he knew at Durmstrang. It was Valentin Schnell. There was something wrong about him. Gellert could tell right away and though he could not say anything with this disguise. Gellert still cared deeply for the other. Valentin was his soulmate, whether romantic or platonic, life had not revealed yet, but they always seemed to be drawn to each other. xxxxxValentin seemed barely able to stand in his dazzling outfit. It was a glittering silver. Gellert was wearing a glittering black himself, of a similar silky material. He approached and waited for an opportunity to speak, to hopefully heal the ailments affecting Valentin. Gellert would always wish that Len would be happy and at peace, far from danger, even if it meant that he would leave and never come back. He was like his brother, Gellert was sure. Gellert would never let himself do similar things to Valentin, even if it meant he would stay far away. However, today, Gellert would just let his emotions guide him, and right now he wanted to make sure Len was alright. Gellert stayed near Len and enjoyed the music and the Christmas tree, while he waited for the right moment. It was a beautiful sight that reminded him of the beautiful moments spent in the Schmitt family manor, filled with warmth and golden beauty. The manor was likely cold and uninhabited now, with the tragedy of the entire generation of Schmitt children passing away in unfortunate circumstances. It was likely murder, but the deaths did not lead to any proof of who. There were many enemies of the Schmitt family, whether it be those who were jealous of their wealth, those angry at the family’s dark history of supporting blood purity, or perhaps even those angry with the wizarding nobility in general. Gellert would wait to speak with Len. Open to Interactions

@Vladimir Athanatos
Note- Opeila's hair is mostly white at this point.

Opeila felt her heartbeat quicken as she waited for him to acknowledge her. Watched him freeze, then turn around slowly. He didn't look pleased to see her, but he hadn't in years. Most of the times they met up had been rather unpleasant.

Vladimir didn't say something immediately, instead he watched her, probably the same way she was watching him. "I didn't expect myself to be invited either. But it is nice to see some people during the holidays." A faint smile appeared on her face, just for a second.

Vlad stepped closer and Opeila had to stop herself from copying. For a second she felt reminded of Nichlas, the older boy who had attacked and hurt her in his cabin, last year. Her fingers dug into her skirt and she straightened her back a little. Not that standing taller meant being anywhere near as tall as Vlad.

"I guess I have." Opeila looked at him, tilting her head a little curiously. "Would you rather I wasn't?" Someone certainly didn't seem to mind. Otherwise she was certain she wouldn't have received so many mysterious letters over the years.
But were they from Vlad?

"What do you want, Winters?"

His tone made her hesitate. Suddenly she wanted to swallow the words. Turn and leave. Stop pulling him into the horrors of Hogwarts. Opeila did not trust Vladimir. There were many secrets, she knew that and a couple of years ago he had dragged her down with her when he got house Slytherin attacked.
And yet... she found herself hoping that he would find some peace eventually.

"I- I never thanked you for saving me last year."

Pull yourself together.
This was his family. And if there was any indicator that Vladimir was still involved in whatever was going on- Opeila had not forgotten how he dissolved into spiders on the Quidditch Pitch a year ago.
"Did you get my owl?"

When did it become like this? So... tense? Both of them had risked their lives to save the other some years ago, there was the spider attack, the blossom ball that went all wrong, the attack she knew he believed her responsible for... Things that had happened years ago, that they never seemed to be able to leave behind.

For a moment, Opeila remembered the boy she met five years ago. The kind, humorous teenager who had helped her with her books. How did this child change so much?
Sadness clouded her gaze for a second.
Would that be Aamon in a few years? Following in his brother's footsteps, the smile wiped away by the things he'd seen at school?

Again she was overcome by the wish to take back the question. Do something unexpected. Ask him to dance maybe. Or ask what he was doing now, after graduation.
Something she feared would only meet harsh words now.

| Note: Thoughts, English, Korean, Russian | Interacting: @Ira Thornfield

Nabi had been looking at the silver ornaments and white light that adorned the tree, Silver was a good choice, the white lights give it more shine... Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a girl's voice; Nabi glanced over to the young girl and raised an eyebrow, with a curt hum and she said expressionless, "Hello Miss Ira. I am Nabi Park." Her eyes flickered down to Ira's hand before calmly shaking her hand.

Deciding to humor the girl she responded, "Yes, I do attend Hogwarts.", she did not understand the reason for her question seeing as Ira stated that she had seen her in class. What is it with people and the need for small talk?

Still, she decided not to cut the girl off just yet. She needed to socialize, Nabi knew that her parents were watching from whatever corner of the ballroom they were mingling at, after all." If I may ask, what class did you say we have together?... I do not seem to recall you Miss Ira"

She was being truthful. Frankly, she did not remember her, and Nabi was not going to give a white lie and lead her on in hopes of making Ira feel better. There was no reason or benefit for such a thing.