S.N.O.G copied thread

Both Zeno and Archer are open to interactions and while the latter may not appreciate it IC I would encourage it!

Gracing the fairly horrendous idea of a celebration would be an unexpected face. True, Archer had become withdrawn since December, and with such a disoriented mind he was fairly certain the only person he had truly spoken to was his past enemy, but plagued with sleeplessness and the amount of sheer noise outside his dormitory, as well as Zeno’s restless nagging he opened the door for the cat to at least get some fresh air. But he could only jest, for it was more than generous to even pretend that such a gracious thing existed down in the Slytherin dungeons.

Since first meeting the past stray Archer had been entranced by the silent - wrong, he would find out, the cat loved vocalisation - prowess. Admiring Zeno’s prideful vigour as the cat held his head high, eyes almost vigilant with intent watched as his tale disappeared down the corridor towards the commotion in the neighbouring dormitory. Distantly he could hear shouts and laughing, to his ears a jarring cacophony but he supposed it was merely because he knew he would never be integrated into their easy merriment, even if sorrow had not taken over his life. Then he was immensely grateful he had not chosen Regulus to be his lodgings, otherwise this night would be even longer than was necessary.

Salazar had its perks until your little kitty comes back practically threatening to drag you into a party you never had any interest in attending. Sometimes Archer reckoned Zeno knew when he was ridden with melancholia, and his defiant soul could not give a damn if he didn’t want to come. Although these only ever led to half-hearted library trips today the little troublemaker seemed to have other thoughts in mind as he meowed and whined for the sullen boy to come outside with him.

Having bid adieu to the comfort of solitude now bonsoir social anxiety! Reluctantly Archer followed the orange furball into the brightly illuminated gathering, squinting against the starkly contrasting light from his dim bed chambers. He was able to make out several figures from where he stood, as removed from the actions as he could manage without Zeno coming to him and urging him along. Barely any of them mattered; Prat Pass, his duelling captain, was one of the only figures he recognised, his usual confident swagger replaced by behaviour that almost seemed cockeyed and Draven Mirador, a fellow duellist to whom brooding seemed to be the natural state from what little Archer had gleaned. Though it was debatable that he was any better. Yet the one that had caught his eye was the boy at the centre of everyone’s attention but that was not the reason for his importance. Archer was fairly sure Matthew was the sole reason he had managed to get up tonight and watch the damned gathering, but he knew despite his mind’s denial that it was better than whiling time away in sorrow in his dorm room. While he could hardly pretend joyfulness it was a respite welcomed nevertheless.

Archer had only just picked up the tabby when disregarding the protective hand kept over his nimble body Zeno leapt from Archer’s lap and trotted to Matthew’s side, nuzzling his calf part in affection and part blatantly asking for treats from the host. If Matthew would be nudged to look in his direction the fellow snake would offer a small tip of the head in greeting, silently wishing him to have fun even if he wasn’t quite in the mood. Zeno seemed to be enjoying himself at least; he could hate it for himself all he wanted but it was worthwhile enough.

@Matthew Campbell

Elisa sighed as she continued to take a couple of sips out of the flask. Something of it warmed her up, but so was it striking her with an effect as her memories that were previously haunting her began to become hazy, her eyes slowly started to look around the room, there were way more people than she had noticed, of course, there were familiar faces, but Elisa just was too lazy to interact.

Her chugging down the flask slowed as she heard McCoire mention the nasty word 'muggle poo' for the trillionth time, either this guy's head was built with no brain, or he was just pretending to be dumb, it was just shampoo, something she had seen billions of times in muggle shops.

As she took another huge sip of the bitter liquid before looking around the room, there was a drunk first year causing a melee among the girls, more than chaos; it looked rather interesting, the realization that they'd have the next day of their actions would be bomb, just then Elisa heard a loud bang as a blue smoke spread, it was the infamous Ava Winchect, while Elisa saw her very less, she had heard a lot about the knife incident,

Before much time passed, Elisa heard Colin screaming about how the game was beginning. While she initially had no plan of joining the game, Elisa made her way towards the crowd of people and squeezed inside the rush for a better view. Finally, she took a place next to a girl @Nabi Park as the game began.

Date: 2025.02.01 | Note: Thoughts, Speech, Aamon, Claire, Saunders |

It appeared her presence had caught the attention of the same giggly boy from earlier, raising her eyebrow slightly she watched him wag his finger at her. "I must say, dude... you have quite a peculiar style...", excuse me? dude? her gray eyes narrowed slightly at him, what does dude even mean? "Anyone would think you’re a girl... You almost had me fooled, too! I may have had a bit of cider, yeah, but I still remember it's a boys' event." The boy's oblivious rambling on her appearance caused the corners of her mouth to faintly turn into a smile.

Goodness, you have no idea...

As the boy gave a wobbly spin, Nabi tilted her head, he reminded her of the way a winded ballerina in a music box moved. She raised an eyebrow as he whispered to her, a warning. Dangerous, you say? Frankly, she did not see much of a threat. Aamon was rather...timid and the boy without a shirt was odd, yes, but not someone she considered a threat. Nabi did not know much about Prat, she occasionally crossed paths with him and had no issues with him. She could consider him a useful acquaintance. Nabi never saw others as friends, having been taught emotions were a liability; trust was not an option. With a soft hum in response, unbothered by his warning, she watched him walk away.

"Sorry, didn't mean to intrude."

Nabi glanced over to the side of the room where the door was, a girl in what she could only describe as a peculiar nightwear with ducky prints, hesitantly entered. What an odd design... She observed silently as the girl approached the shirtless boy, assuming the young girl knew him. Soon after the smell of smoke, followed by the sigh of blue-colored smoke caught her attention; an older student waltzed into the room. Announcing herself, she made her way over to the same lanky boy of white hair. He seems quite popular with the girls...

She hummed in thought, the scheme she had overheard from the older boys echoed as she ate her licorice stick. Staring off to the side, this could go south fast... She had begun to debate whether she should tell someone who was still in their right mind. Mr. Prat is a no-go, he is preoccupied with the idea of snogging... Biting her licorice stick her train of thought was abruptly interrupted.

"Ladies!"

Her sight refocused as she looked over to see a drunk and confident Aamon stumble his way to the girls nearby. Clearly, the young Aamon had no idea he was not as tacticful as he thought, though the sight was still amusing nonetheless. Nabi tilted her head slightly as he presented the bottle of cider as if it were some invaluable thing— perhaps even worth a king’s ransom. She could not stop the slight smile that appeared as she watched him act in such a way and to a surprise she played along.

"Why thank you, Mr. Athanatos..." she bit her lip to stop herself from letting out a small chuckle, "How very kind of you..."

She gently took the bottle from him, their usual awkward interactions replaced by this light-hearted moment and without thinking for the first time, she took a sip of the cider. The flavor of the cider was strong, the sweetness from the black licorice she had been enjoying acted like a chaser to the burning sensation. hm... it is tolerable..., she looked at the bottle momentarily before handing it back to him.

She looked at him and said with a slight tease, "I see you are enjoying the drunken feeling..."

Saturday was for sports. When Astra wasn't actively participating, she was listening to the matches and races on the radio she'd been gifted for Christmas this year, instead of Roderick's old one that could hardly tune in to anything except old stations hardly used. Sometimes she'd listen to the news, especially if she knew when Jesse was to be broadcasting, but mostly it was sports, and this day was no different. Hermes sat up on the back of her chair as she sat, quill frozen and dripping dark ink onto her parchment, fixed on the radio. "C'mon, Falcons..." she whispered, fingers clenching around her quill. Based on the announcer's excitement, the dopplebeat defense was about to hit Ballycastle's seeker and knock them out of the game. The Irish team hadn't been doing so hot in scores, but there was only a couple goal's difference between the two teams, and Astra and Roderick had a little bet going so this really had to work if Astra had any hope of getting a Silver Arrow by the time she got her Christmas money.

"It's you!" Astra's concentration was momentarily broken by the joyful and familiar voice, just in time to hear Ballycastle's seeker had dodged the lethal attack! Astra groaned despite herself, quill dropping to the table. Her voice held the grimace that the people at her back couldn't see yet as a strained, "It's me," passed her lips. Hermes meowed, a toothy cat smile seemingly on his face as he blinked up at the people, tail twitching, ears pricked forward curiously. Astra turned around, turning the radio down slightly. The short one was familiar, prefect @Cass Ito and fellow rock-Quidditch game player. The other was not. "Nice to meet you, Nabi." A fellow racer, though perhaps not in official capacity such as the redheaded snakelet. She'd have to check the waitlist. [MORE TO BE ADDED ONCE CASS EDITS] Astra found herself confused, being dragged along by the small prefect, Hermes bounding into the boys dorms far ahead and entering the wide open door before the enthusiastic Cass with their reluctant cargo.

Cass was right, what an awful sign. SNOG. Astra's nose wrinkled at the very sight of the word. Gentlemen only, huh? That's a funny notion in a house so full of nosy busybodies hungering for some form of debauchery, and with a name like SNOG that's exactly what was promised. Astra couldn't lie that she was just a little interested about the evening's potential proceedings.

As they skirted the pillows on the floor to the very aptly named window of judgement, Astra noted that the sign had not come off of the small prefect's arm. "Oh God, is it stuck?" She didn't touch the poster, the entire back looked like some sort of glue trap, but she did take her wand out of her pocket and twirl it a bit as she sat up on the sill. "Could probably use scourgify to get it loose."

But Cass and Nabi both abandoned Astra to the windowsill in search of snacks, which she was fine with. Snacks were not of interest to her, especially not in an event orchestrated by @Colin McCoire. His trickster reputation was one of absolute truth, and as much as she trusted him on the track she one hundred percent did not trust the refreshments to be safe. Motive for sticking to the window also included: not being caught up in whatever was going on on the floor, remaining unnoticed, and spotting her cat, who was definitely up to no good.

SNOG, and event about snogging. Astra hardly clamped her jaw down on the curse that threatened to escape. What was it with Hogwarts students and kissing? She didn't respond when Colin pointed her, Cass, and Park (which Astra could only assume meant Nabi) out and praised the prefect's choice to drag along what Astra could now see were sacrifices for the devilish ritual of Spin the Bottle, instead opting to pretend she didn't exist and could not be perceived for the rest of the night and possibly forever.

She heard a familiar voice over the din, one she could recognize in an instant given the nigh-on traumatic memories associated with it, though instead of platinum blonde the girl's hair was brown. Quite like her late father's. Astra's efforts to remain invisible redoubled as @Elisa Shakestra established herself as another non-gentleman guest of the gentlemen's gathering.

Perhaps she should just find Hermes and get out of here. Hopefully the Quidditch game wasn't over yet, or at the very least she could catch the post-match interviews. But nooo not even a tuft of his gray fur was visible to her! Damn him. And the game was beginning, too! If she moved she'd certainly be caught. So she relegated herself to watching what would inevitably be a trainwreck event, and not the fun kind.

Saturday
February 1st, 2025
Afternoon

Outfit: (but darker green!)

Reducio

The loudest explosion Claire had ever had the chance to hear shot through the room, but looking for the source was initially pointless because of the large plume of blue smoke filling the air. Claire coughed a little and waved some of the smoke that was in her face away, just enough to be able to see.

Oh. It was another girl. They were quickly turning the boys' dorm gender neutral, and as worried as Claire was about being caught and turned into a toad or whatever happened to young witches who got in trouble in school, she had to admit it was somewhat thrilling, being where she wasn't meant to be.

@Ava Winchect's suggestion of Spin the Bottle caused Claire's eyes to dart to the bottle Colin had been holding, and suddenly things made sense. Suddenly she felt even more like an intruder.

As if the blue-smoke-filled room wasn't already strange enough with its assortment of boys, girls, booze and snacks, one of the older boys cast a spell to conjure snowflakes, creating an odd atmosphere that set her muggleborn senses ablaze with discomfort. But despite the strangeness of the situation, Claire had to admit that @Matthew Campbell's snowflakes were quite lovely as they drifted down from the ceiling.

Sidestepping the three particularly intoxicated boys, Matthew, @Prat Pass, and @Aamon Athanatos, Claire crossed her legs and sat beside Colin, his familiarity - and peculiarity - comforting in the chaos.

"How much have they had to drink?" she asked Colin, her voice a nervous whisper. Her eyes darted from the drunk boys to the girls who seemed to, unsurprisingly, be holding their alcohol a bit better. On the surface, at least.

It probably would have been quite a bit safer for her to just leave, especially with all the noise they were making and the likelihood of a professor learning of their gathering, but when Colin gave the bottle a spin, her curiosity and the thrill of breaking school rules won out.

ACTION: nervously watching the drinking and sitting beside Colin for comfort

@Colin McCoire

Aamon was still riding the high of his earlier terrible decision. His act of trust had left him with this warmth in his stomach that seemed to blend with the ever-growing hum of chaos around the room. Not that he minded in the least, this was one of those rare diversions that left his thoughts empty. Aamon had managed to avoid the horror of snogging discourse by sheer force of will (or maybe distraction, hard to tell at this point), and now found himself loitering near Nabi, relieved to be engaging in 'normal' conversation.

At least, as normal as this night could be.

“I think we are getting used to the, um.” He gestured vaguely, trying to find the right word. “The… French?" He nodded to himself, as if that made sense. It did not make sense. There were several gaps in the conversation spoken versus the one in his head “It’s not like I don't know, just… refreshing is weird. I mean good!” He turned to Nabi, brows furrowed slightly. “Do you have this? Or is this just that kind of sham poo?”

He did not sound convincing.

Honestly, he was not making any sense but in his head he had just told her that he was happy that she was here and that they were preparing for their trip to Beauxbatons. Some of the students were concerned about particular social conventions. He left out kissing both in his head as well as his spoken word but he did claim he was an 'expert' unnecessarily. Shame she got this rambling dialogue instead.

Nabi, who had taken the cider with the practiced ease of someone not actively spiraling did not seem particular impressed or interested. “I see you are enjoying the drunken feeling…” she mused.

Aamon sputtered.

“Drunken?!” His voice cracked slightly, and he quickly lowered it, glancing around like someone might call him out on it. “I’m not—I mean—I’m just a little warm, that’s all.” He tugged at his collar as if that might prove his point. “This is just cider, right?”

He did not wait for an answer before his attention violently shifted elsewhere.

Because there was a cat.

Aamon’s entire train of thought derailed as his eyes landed on a small, orange feline weaving its way through the crowd. His gaze lit up, the sheer speed at which his priorities changed astonishing.

“Nabi,” he whispered urgently, grabbing her sleeve like he had discovered something monumental. “There is a cat.” He pointed at the wandering feline.

The weight of this revelation could not be overstated.

His brain, already loose from the cider’s influence, latched onto this new mission immediately. His previous thoughts about blood status debates, snogging, and scumble vanished into the ether. Well, he was going to take Nabi along, she liked cats he decided. She reminded him of one of those grumpy ones that swat him if he tied to pet them.

Should he try to pat Nabi's head?

He pushed away the intrusive thought. He did have some survival instinct. Rather he tried to grab her arm, she could at lest assist in the hunt.

“I need to—” He paused, blinking rapidly. “I need to give it a head kiss.”

Without any hesitation, Aamon took a step forward—then another—intent on reaching his newfound life goal.

But then, he head a voice again. His father's voice in his head.

"You’re making a scene, Aamon."

Aamon froze mid-motion. His stomach flipped.

Wait.

No, that wasn’t—that couldn’t be real.

"Look at yourself. Sloppy. Undisciplined. You're embarrassing us."

Aamon's breath hitched. His fingers curled slightly, if he had grabbed hold of Nabi, he relinquished his grip. His father wasn’t here. His father was at home, probably in his office, probably not thinking about him at all. This was just—what? A trick of his mind? The cider?

His ears burned.

"Athanatos men do not make fools of themselves. They do not stumble around like drunkards."

He wasn't stumbling. Was he? No, no, he was fine. He was fine. He was just—just warm and a little distracted and—

His father’s voice was quiet now, nearly a whisper.

"You think they respect you? Look at them. Laughing at you."

They were laughing weren't they.

Aamon did not look. He refused to look.

Instead, he latched onto his last thought with everything he had.

The cat.

No, screw the cat.

Colin had started spinning the bottle. Too many things, a burst of light. Was that a fire? No, another hallucination. He was seeing fire, hearing his dad. The cat was escaping without head kisses. There was muggle poo. A Nabi. Where was Matt again?

Cross-eyed Aamon’s head snapped toward Archer.

“You too,” he demanded the wallflower to participate.

He was not going to let Archer (not that he knew the guy's name) just lurk at the edges of this disaster. No. He was going to force him into this madness.

“Come on,” he waved him over urgently. “You have to look at Nabi with me. Oh-oh! And also this bottle, it rotates...”

Aamon did not elaborate.

He thought he already had.

"MRRRR!?"

Colin twisted himself around to check on Greebo. His black cat was up and stretching. Colin watched as the cat slunk around, finding first Hermes and then Zeno, Archer's talkative orange tabby. He reckoned they'd be chasing each other around the dorm soon enough!

The first year girl, Claire, decided to sit next to him. Colin wondered why. She seemed a little dazed with the spectacle of Ava's arrival. He reckoned that she still might not be used to such displays of magic! He wiggled the flask of scumble towards her. "Want a swig! It's good! It's made of apples! Well, mainly apples...!" He decided that what the evening needed was some more magic! He leaned forward and reached over with his long arm and gave the bottle another spin!

Aamon was watching the bottle spin around. Colin smiled.

Snow began to fall!

Colin laughed merrily!

Slipping his own wand from its sheath, he jabbed it in random directions: "Verdimillious! --- Bullarum Immortalem --- Violaceous! --- Verdimillious!" Green and purple sparks showered out over everyone gathered in the dorm! The conjured bubbles floated about in the air! Some drifted into all corners of the room; some might even become cat toys, Colin thought! Time for some more colours! "Caerulimillious!! --- And how about flowers! Orchideous!! Orchideous!!" Flowers spewed out towards Aamon and Matthew! Flowers landed in Elisa's hair! Flowers landed on Claire! Colin turned towards Ava: "Orchideous!"

Colin laughed again!

He looked into Ava's eyes. He smiled at Ava. His heart began thumping. And it wasn't the cidre! A sudden thought came to his mind. No not that thought! He did want to snog with Ava of course! But Ava knew his --- secret! He wondered if she would dare...?

@Ava Winchect | @Claire Lewis || Hermes and Zeno: @Astra Norrick | @Archer Duncan: please feel free to notice Greebo, Colin's black cat, playing with your kitties!

Date: 2025.02.01 | Note: Thoughts, Speech, Aamon |

"I think we are getting used to the, um.", she looked at him as he gestured vaguely, Chaos? Nabi thought he had been talking about the snog event. "The… French?"

We are getting used to the french? Nabi hummed and nodded softly, listening to a rambling Aamon talk. She did not understand what he was saying but decided to play along.Sham poo? does he mean a sham? Nabi had never heard of a sham poo and before she could answer he finally registered what she had previously said. His reaction to her observation fueled her amusement as she subconsciously leaned forward slightly, a playful glint shined in her eyes.

Before she could tease him on his denial of being drunk, she felt him tug her sleeve. His sudden whisper about his discovery took her off guard as a soft chuckle finally escaped her. Lowering her voice to match his whisper, "Why yes... there is a cat", her gaze followed the orange-coated feline stealthfully cut through the other students' legs. He is quite adorable...

The cat or Aamon? That was the question...

A lazy but genuine smile formed across her mouth as Aamon declared he had to give the cat a head kiss. His soft demeanor had smoothed the rough etches to her usual stoic expression as she followed him.

Until he paused.

Nabi glanced at him, confused by his abrupt halt to the mission he had been on. Taking note of his sudden change in breathing, her eyes narrowed slightly when his fingers began to curl slightly after letting go of her sleeve. Is he feeling sick? She tilted her head and before she could ask him anything, he refocused. As quickly as he had paused, he snapped back out, pointing at an older boy standing offside.

Nabi followed Aamon's gaze onto the boy, He does not seem familiar... Nabi gave a slight nod in greeting to the boy, "Come on, You have to look at Nabi with me. Oh-oh! And also this bottle, it rotates..."

A small giggle left Nabi, quite the odd feeling it was to giggle. What? do I have something on my face? She touched her face confused. "Someone spun the bottle, Mr. Athanatos..." She glanced over to him, a small smile still on her face.

Her guard around him was slipping, but that was a problem for another day. For now, she decided to let things play out. The night was still young, much like everyone in attendance— they had time.

Right?

Nabi focused on the spinning bottle and began to wonder why it was spinning. Other students were already huddled around, some giggling and whispering. The same girl she had seen take two vials of cider appeared beside her as well.

Credits to the maker

Many stumbled over at the suggestion of the game, none more excited than @Colin McCoire. That honestly wasn’t shocking.

@Prat Pass stumbled over to her, more carefree than she had ever seen him. He was clearly under the influence of alcohol, presumably from whatever was in the cup in his hand. He was enthusiastic as he shoved the flask he had been clutching into her hand and started chanting.

"Bottoms up," she announced, false bravado laced through her words as she closed her eyes and tipped the flask back. It seemed to just be cider…woah. Her body grew warm as confidence spread through her and she realized why Prat was so enthusiastic.

This stuff was good! "Whew!"

She noticed Colin had his own flask nearby, but wisely left it alone. "Ava! You're looking super cute tonight!

"Not too bad yourself," she told Colin. He had grabbed hold of a bottle and spun it, and she couldn’t help but hope it would end up pointed at her.

Although, with a twinge of jealousy she noticed some first year (@Claire Lewis) whispering something to Colin. It wasn’t like they were a thing but still. Even worse he offered her some of his drink. She didn’t allow the scowl on her face to take hold.

Clearly his drink had just as much alcohol as the little she had consumed. He began randomly enunciating spells, sparks and flowers bursting from his wand.

Then he turned to face her, and everything seemed to slow down. Oh, jeez. For a long moments, they just stared at each other. No, not state. Dare she say, they looked into each other’s eyes? No.

She blushed. Were they about to snog? Kiss? What was he thinking right now? She wanted to kiss him…did he want to kiss her?

There was no better time like the present. Not to mention that she was feeling confident after whatever had been in that drink. But it wasn’t the drink that made her want to kiss him.

She closed her eyes and closed the gap between them.

Summary: talking, being jealous, kissing Colin!
Action: Drinking whatever Prat offered and snogging kissing Colin!

And she looked into his eyes! Ava.

His mind raced.

Broom racer.

Knife wielder.

Enemy.

Friend.

Colin's heart raced.

They just stared into each other's eyes. Her eyes were brown, as was her hair. He knew the smell of it. Even when her face --- wasn't quite her own --- he knew it was her. She'd said he was looking cute too. Colin smirked. He blushed slightly. The rosy tint crept up from his chest to his cheeks. The sounds in the room faded. No longer were individual voices distinctly audible, not even to Colin's keen hearing. The already dim lighting faded, like looking through an extremely narrow passageway on the race course.

Ava.

Colin's heart thumped. Surely she could see it beating against his ribs!

He straightened up, pond scum green eyes fixated on hers. The wolf and the huntress. Time slowed. Ava blushed in response to his own. Or had he blushed in response to her? It didn't matter. Colin's heart raced, and his mind lost track of --- whatever it was going on in this place. He knew what was going to happen next!

Colin wondered what was going through her mind. They'd kissed before. When they turned themselves from being enemies to being --- something else. Ava stepped closer. Her steps were confident. Colin watched. She crouched down and sat in front of him. She closed her eyes. Colin leaned in towards Ava. The last thing Colin heard was a faint sound.



The spinning bottle

slowly

came to a stop.

The world outside disappeared. Colin didn't care. His hands raised up to cup Ava's cheeks. When her lips touched his, he made a small sound. They kissed.

Action: Kissing AVA!! You lot carry on! Class dismissed!

@Ava Winchect