The Arrival Tea Party Valentines 2025

Aamon was watching his brothers Mathias and Gideon, half-expecting something to catch flame. That was really how most events went. But Mathias was with Winnie and Gideon was with his cousin Taylor, meaning something would certainly explode in the near-future. He was going to keep as far as possible from that.

An idle rapping noise emanated from Aamon's fingers as he tapped his digits idly against the side of his teacup. He was not drinking the hot leaf water, he did not trust it and what little faith he had in strangers was dissolved with Matthew Campbell's betrayal. Matt was here with a date also, Nabi Park. Pretty girl, he knew her from a few chance encounters in the dorms. A bit up-tight, she would probably be Harvey's best friend. The Athanatos could feel the warmth of the tea through the porcelain seep into his skin as Harvey spoke. Aamon listened—kind of—but his mind was already spinning with something fun to do. The tea party was basically a ball with hot beverages and less music. The young snake needed something to cut through the stiffness at the table. Everyone was talking—asking deep questions, learning about cultures and international wizarding connections, which, sure, was fine—but where was the excitement? Did everyone at this table come out of the womb with a mortgage and a bad back?

At this senior citizens’ social hour, Aamon could appreciate Harvey’s carefully curated words, but Merlin’s beard, did the guy have to sound like he was running for office at all times? Even the half-breed's correction—tasked—goal—it was like the part goblin was writing a speech in real-time.

At Harvey’s response about not being here for pretty girls or the buffet, Aamon could not help but feel sorry for the part goblin that went immediately from teething to taxes. “Not here for the pretty girls or the buffet?” the Slytherin repeated. “Harvey, mate, what are you here for then? Knowledge? Connections? Pfft.” Aamon waved his left hand dramatically, as if he could wipe away the thould bubble of crosswords and lukewarm tea from Harvey's metaphorical thoughts. “Boring,” Aamon declared with as much authority as a Slytherin first year could muster.

Aamon’s grin stretched as Harvey flipped the question back on him. Was he just here to chase after the girls?

Well.

He wouldn’t say it outright, but… kind of?

“I’m here for…” Aamon's voice trailed off, he tilted his head, pretending to think deeply. “The experience.” he concluded. Yes, that sounded noble enough. “You know, make some memories, learn a little, maybe have a little fun.” Pretty general, generic even.

“See, while you’re out here making connections and learning about… adolescent politics or whatever, I’ve got a mission of my own,” Aamon gave Harvey a cheeky smile. The girls were leaving them one by one, bored to tears by their own discourse, it just meant guy-time with Linda maybe, honorary guy.

“I’m going to prank my roommates.”

It was not aspirational. It was juvenile. Of course Aamon's idea of a prank was ‘switch their shampoo with hair-growing potion’ nonsense. Much like Aamoon's artistic talent, he was not going to make an independent masterpiece, it was more like stick figure art with disaster.

"I'm sure you have some roommates that could get caught up in a wave of disaster," Aamon continued. “Or you could keep networking and miss out on history in the making. Up to you.”

The moment Winnie dropped Mathias' hand, Pride felt it like a knife sliding between his ribs. Sharp, possibly letal, but the keenness of the blade allowed the cold metal to slide in clean. It was easy going in, it was the removal in his experience that was tricky.

Ah.

So that had stung.

Good.

He needed the occasional reminder that he loved her. That he did not simply want her, wish to own her. There was a sick obsession that lingered without comprehension. And pain was a marvelous way of reminding the masochist of the tethers that bound his heart to her.

Winnie hid it well enough for strangers. For casual observers. But not enough for him. Mathias knew what Winnie was. The Slytherin knew the Ravenclaw better than she knew herself. The Seer had seen all of Winnie's faces and he knew that she hated how Gideon reminded her of what she was. Fragile. Fractured. A girl held together by nothing but desperate will and the hands of a man she could not trust who had been piecing her back together in the form he most coveted.

He was molding her, creating her, and killing her all at once. Ironically, his want to keep her would likely destroy her.

Mathias' body flexed, feeling the ghost of Winnie's warmth still lingering on his skin as he gave her space. He resisted the urge to reach for her again, to reclaim what had so thoughtlessly been cast aside. No, let her sit with that discomfort as he stubbornly sat in his. Let her feel the weight of her own reality pressing down on her like a cage. She could fight it all she wanted, but in the end, she’d return to him. She always did.

And when she did, when she sought him out with those wide, panicked eyes, searching for something steady, something real—then he would remind her who she truly belonged to. She would hold him tighter. Hesitate to let him go. She would be as obsessed with him as he was obsessed with her. He had spent years manipulating Winnie. Dosing her with forgetfulness potion. Maintaining the vision of a happy committed couple, acts of thoughtlessness were painted over. He shamelessly gaslight her, giving her a false story and memory of their shared reality.

Pride was selfishness incarnate.

Matt's lips twitched upward, amusement flickering through his cold, calculated stare as he watched Winnie retreat behind a smile, fumbling for conversation like a woman drowning in her own mind. Scatterbrained. That was a cute little way to put it. Like calling a shattered mirror cracked, as if the pieces weren’t already slipping through trembling fingers, as if the reflection staring back wasn’t already unrecognizable.

While she was resistant to the forgetfulness potion, the lingering effects of the years before lingered, leaving holes in her mind. It was like trying to drink a glass of water from a colander. She was never a scholar, in spite of the sorting hat's declaration that she belonged in the house of scholars. Yet one could never be certain considering the number of times he overdosed the girl on strawberry juice, her favored drink. It was hard to dose when he never knew how much she would drink.

Then came the real test.

Gideon Athanatos.

Gideon, his younger brother was a true monster. He was a monster by nature, not nurture or ambition. He was dangerous in his sadistic cruelty. He had no plan, no purpose besides hedonistic pleasure.

Mathias had already felt Gideon before he saw his younger sibling, the shift in the air, the way Winnie’s entire body tensed like prey catching the scent of a predator. Yes, Winnie knew—even if she pretended not to. That fear, that creeping, clawing dread, was woven so deep into her bones that even now, even with the weight of his presence at her side, she nearly folded under it.

In her defense, he felt it too. This desperate weight that caused his back to bow.

Why didn't they drown Giddy after birth?

Gideon had attacked Winnie weeks earlier, tossing Winnie from the owlery. Mathias did not understand Giddy's reasoning, but something had recently awoken in him. Gideon was never a good or even a kind man, but there was a time where he was simply unsettling but inert. That had ended. Gideon claimed Winnie had jumped and that was good enough for the world. Winnie was sent to St. Mungos to recover both physically and mentally adding insult to injury.

And then there was Taylor.

Taylor, his younger still cousin. She lived in Russia and her life had been pockmarked with tragedy. There were numerous rumors regarding her true nature, even her lineage. Her father had died under mysterious circumstances and he wondered if she was somehow at fault. Having Taylor here in Beauxbatons was an interesting little development. There was a reason she was left to the frigid north. Mathias did not even know she was supposed to be in attendance. Not that they were close, but that was because the girl was unhinged like many Athanatos women. Mathias’ sharp eyes followed the blonde's movements, watched the easy, casual way Taylor walked beside Gideon, like she enjoyed being at his side.

And Winnie was spiraling.

Mathias could see it. Feel it. The tension in Winnie's fingers, the quick flick of her eyes, the way her pulse thrummed beneath her skin. She was slipping fast, and if he let her go too far, if she made a mistake—if she cracked in front of them—this entire game would go on but Matt did not need Winnie to be sent back to the mad house. Winnie had already made a strong case for mental fragility, so Mathias knew where to send the psychologically unsound girl if she ever got out of hand until she was willing to play by HIS rules again.

Mathias did not want her sent away. He quite liked the prospect of spending the week together. He did not want it cut short by psychological drama even if the week was likely to be rife with familial drama.

So Mathias acted.

Without a word, without warning, his hand shot out and reclaimed hers. He did not wait for her to take his as his selfish mind had narrated she would. No, he took hers and it was not a gentle touch, not a request. A command.

Mine.

Mathias' fingers curled around her own, his grip firm, unrelenting, his thumb pressing slow, hypnotic circles against the back of her hand. He leaned in, just enough that his breath skimmed the shell of her ear, his voice low, smooth, dangerous.

"Steady."

One word. A warning. A reminder.

Like he was telling a mare to hold.

Winnie's heart was likely racing, pounding against her ribs like a caged wild animal, and he relished it. Because fear had a way of clarifying things.

"You’re thinking too much," he murmured, voice a silky, intoxicating whisper only his lovely pink fiance could hear. "He’s watching. They’re all watching." Mathias reminded her.

A soft chuckle, dark and knowing.

"That’s not like you, chérie."

There was a time where the hall would shudder in response to her pterodactyl like scream, reverberating through the corridors like a war cry. Walls had seemed to bow in uneasy deference, chandeliers quivering as if bracing for the storm that was her. She had been a force of nature, wild and unrestrained, her presence an unshakable tempest that left laughter and chaos in its wake. But that time had passed. Now, the halls stood silent, indifferent to her presence, as if they, too, had learned to forget.

Mathias pulled back just slightly, just enough to let her breathe—but not enough to let her forget his presence, his control. His eyes, sharp and cutting, flickered to Gideon, then back to her, his smirk widening ever so slightly.

"Smile for me," he commanded smoothly, voice laced with quiet amusement. "Unless, of course, you want to let him see just how deep he’s already gotten under your skin." We will kill him later.

February 12th 2025
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics
Mentioning: @Scout Fu-Hai - @Gideon Athanatos - @Colin McCoire - @Ava Winchect
Open to Interactions!

Emily sat patiently at the table while she observed Casey and his eagle eyes at the confectionery. She could tell by his posture and his facial expressions that he was taking this seriously, wanting to be the good friend and pick out things that would make her happy. Maybe a little too seriously though. She was only after a bun and maybe a glass or two of apple juice. Still, she applauded Casey for wanting to be more than just "nice". He had really blossomed from "Doing X, Y and Z Because I 'Owe' Someone" to "I'm Actually Going To Be Good Friend Guy" in the months they had known each other. Badgering him to smile more seemed to have a knock-on effect with that. Him patching things up with Scout played a hand in his transformation by the looks of it too. And the cherry on top was that he was working through coping his independence while they worked together in finding Nick.

Whether Casey could see it or not, he was actually full of life right now. And that made Emily smile brightly.

As Emily sat and took in the intricate décor of the Beauxbatons dining room, her eyes fell on an individual that sent a frightful chill throughout her body. Her blood ran cold and she gasped.

It was him. It. Was. Him. Gideon.

Emily instinctively covered her hand where she had pricked it from way back when. Back when Gideon goaded her and others to satisfy his sick, twisted tree. Thinking back to it made her weak in the stomach. She had dreamt of that night so many times now. Thanks to him she had been feeling all kinds of despair the last several weeks. She knew it happened. The mark was still there for Heaven's sake, albeit healing slowly.

She wanted to disappear through the wall, melt through the floor. Anything if it meant she wasn't in the same room as him. She slunk in her chair, praying he didn't see her. She hoped Casey would come back over soon. She couldn't risk going to him herself in case she ran into Gideon.

If only Scout were here. Or Colin. Or Ava. All of a sudden she wanted to leave but she knew she couldn't.

She tapped her foot in rhythmic anxiety, silently begging for Casey to hurry up and come back to her. She supposed she could hide under the table and risk looking like a clown until he did.

She couldn't let Gideon see her like this, all suddenly vulnerable and insecure.

"Oh Casey, please hurry up and pick something..." she said under her breath.

_{Word Count: 476}

Stats: Stamina: 7| Evasion: 6| Strength: 6| Wisdom: 8| Arcane Power: 7| Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace

Tone was ecstatic upon being able to see and interact with various people in Beauxbatons. It was definitely a change from what he was used to. The first table he'd come upon was filled with a variety of different types of people. Also, the best part was he didn't recognize anyone! This in turn meant he'd be able to make friends with a new group of witches and wizards! How awesome would that be?! Glancing around, Tone noticed a familiar face a short distance away, Mateo from his own school. Mateo looked like he was interacting with some others too. Tone was happy for him. Yet another familiar face, Maria was nearby them as well. He'd gotten to know her a little better recently at Mahoutokoro and knew she loved tea from that particular time.

Therefore, this tea party was perfect for someone like her and Tone hoped she was enjoying herself at this gathering amongst various different kinds of students. Dennis's reaction to him made Tone grin and his face broke out into a wide smile. He took a seat as Dennis told him to and looked over at him with interest. "I always love seeing people enjoy food but you're one of the best ones! You look like you're having so much fun sampling them!" Tone exclaimed with a shake of his head. "What do you like the best so far?" He asked, curious. "That cookie looks delicious going from the crumbs!" The blond added with a smile, letting his eyes flicker over the particles strewn all over. Crumbs were so delicious.
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Tone smiled as Meyra confirmed she was the owner of said camera. He nodded enthusiastically and devoted all of his attention onto her as she spoke to him. Meyra's words about how she didn't think she'd get tired of taking pictures of the place here was something Tone agreed with 100%. "There's so much beauty here that you can only see if you're here. I can't wait to explore a little bit more." He said, his eyes sparkling with excitement about the mere thought of being able to check out the surrounding areas. "They seem to have set up a lot of things for the event too. Maybe we can go exploring together sometime while we're here!" Tone suggested with another smile. Yes, he wanted to spend time with her!

Meyra. The cool one. Minnie. The sweet one. Tracey. Who had no fun description attached to her name! ...and then there was Dennis. The foodie. Tone smiled at each and every person whose name was mentioned and nodded to each of them. "Really nice to meet all of you! I hope we can all be friends from now on! We couldn't have picked a better day to do something like this, right? I mean, it's France! Paris is the city of love! It's quite romantic by nature. But love doesn't always have to revolve around romance, there are lots of many different types of love. Like friendship love! Family love! But I do understand the allure of romantic love too." Tone chattered on to everyone gathered.

Tracey smiled at him in return and munched on her eclair and Tone grinned back at her. "Ooo, you're trying the eclairs? I haven't actually tried them straight from France. I've heard that even if a French chef makes them in another country, they just don't come out tasting exactly the same as they do when you have them from the place they originated from. Is this true? Does it taste differently from what you're used to?" Tone asked Tracey, curious. The boy wasn't sure if Tracey was actually from France or not but figured she wasn't since the beater didn't hear any trace of an accent from her. It was around this time that someone nudged his arm and he glanced over to see a familiar face there.
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"Ah! Maria! You came!" Tone exclaimed with a warm smile and he turned around to wrap his arms around her, briefly giving her a hug and then released her again. As she introduced herself to the others, Tone nodded. "You sample any teas yet? Like any of them?" He asked, curious. France was known for its bread, pastries and cheese. But he wasn't entirely certain whether they had any good teas. Minnie greeted Maria and smiled at him but didn't really say much otherwise. But that was fine. Tone knew everyone was different and he could pretty much get along with absolutely everyone. Things seemed to be going pretty well at the table and Tone hoped it would continue like this for a long time. It was a nice atmosphere right now.

Belatedly, Tone realized although everyone else had given their names or had their names given, the beater was the only one who hadn't done so yet! "Ah, sorry for the delay, I'm Tone!" He said with a sheepish smile, reaching up to rub the side of his head. "One of Mahoutokoro's unstoppable beaters!" Tone said with a grin, taking pride in the fact that their school's beaters were awesome! He wondered if anyone here had heard of him before. After all, people had heard of the Niffler. Although, Tone wasn't as famous as the Niffler, he definitely was someone a lot of people talked about when it came to quidditch. But of course, there were a lot who didn't watch quidditch too. Tone's attention was drawn to Meyra when she spoke again.

Apparently, Meyra needed to go meet someone. Perhaps she'd been waiting for someone earlier and had tried to waste some time while she waited but now was getting impatient? It was understandable.

..

──────────────────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅─────────────────── .─ STATS Reducio Sta 9 ❀ Eva 13 Acc 17 ❀ Arc 4 Wis 7 ❀ Str 8 ABILITIES Reducio Broken Broomshaft Fearless Evasive Maneuvers Statistically Relevant (ACC+2) TAGS Reducio @Dennis Tumberton, @Meyra Lancaster, @Minnie Duke, @Tracey Bailey, @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood TRACKER Reducio I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X ACTION Reducio --- . ── ──────────────────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅───────────────────

.

Date: February 12th 2025 Interacting: @Bubba McGarry @Winnie Harper Mentioning: @Astra Norrick @Mathias Pride

Speaking: #F33A6A Thoughts: #9F2B68 sta 6 | eva 8| str 7| STATS | wis 7 | arc 5 | acc 7|

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ "Love planted a rose and the world turned sweet" ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Abilities: Healing Sage & Charmer

And yet a thirdsurprise caused her to knock her teacup over AGAIN. Astra seemed to have decided to join her if only to "save her life" with the arrival of Siobhan's EpiPen. It took Siobhan quite a few minutes to gather herself as she picked the EpiPen up off of the plate that Astra had slammed it against and turned away to jam it into her thigh. Almost immediately she felt the cooling yet jittery relief that epinephrine offered and she felt her throat and tongue return to normal. Thankfully her allergy did not cause a swelling situation in her face and simply caused an itchy throat and watery eyes. Of course, if it had gone on longer she would slowly start to grow restless in her stomach and would have spent the rest of the day curled over a basin as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Thankfully the EpiPen did its job and she could feel the symptoms subsiding.

She registered that Winnie had asked her something, and the appearance of a new person, one whom she did not recognize. As she picked up her teacup again (thankfully it was empty), she smiled politely and spoke with a quiet voice.

"I have a moderate allergy to Peanuts... It came on early this year so I haven't mentioned it to the faculty quite yet. I apologize for the abrupt arrival of my friend here, it seems I neglected to check for my medicine." Siobhan said peacefully as she turned to Astra with a grateful thank you painted across her face. Her eyes smiled happily when she saw that Astra had fastened the honking daffodil she had left for her in her hair. It was striking against the gingery red that Astra sported and Siobhan thought it made her look great. She knew her friend had a preference for loungewear and comfortable clothes but she enjoyed it when they both took the time to enjoy each other's company.

She still felt quite embarrassed by the ordeal. Dropping her teacup for a third time, reacting to the peanuts, and making a fool of herself among the upperclassmen. She was surprised that they hadn't up and left already. She would have been perfectly okay if the dirt had swallowed her up returning her flowers to the Earth where they belonged. Astra had sat down next to her, Bubba hadn't said anything since Winnie and her weirdly pale partner had shown up and there was still the new person that she hadn't met yet.

Of course, she enjoyed the company! She would like to get to know some of the upperclassmen around the school- connections and all that. And Winnie seemed to genuinely like talking to her and Siobhan had seen her around the school before and greatly admired her fashion choices and the way she held herself. And the new girl- Haven, she had finally processed- had already threatened to kick someone's butt via the threat of chicken transfiguration to whoever had made her cry.

"Well I suppose if you can- She had to interrupt herself to cough a residual tickle in her throat "-if you can transform Mr. Peanut into a chicken I would be happy to watch." She tried to laugh at her little joke. But of course it would only work if one was a muggle. Mr. Peanut and his dapperness only existed in the Muggle world. She thought it was funny and hopefully the others who were muggle born would as well... If there were any.

She turned to Winnie to comment on her farm life. "You grew up on a farm? I live on one, on the outskirts of Killarney Ireland. My family farms an orchard, wool, and strawberry field. Where is your family from?" She asked as the epinephrine did its job and brought her back to her nearly normal state. She steered away from the treat that had caused her allergy and instead switched to just water to quench her thirst. She conitnued to periodically cough as the medicine did it's work and brought her away from her allergy attack. Her eyes were still watery, but she tried to wipe them as best she could with her napkin. Like a proper lady would.

"Your flower question? How did I preserve them? To tell you the truth I... I haven't the strangest idea. Plants just... Do what I ask of them as long as I care for them." She murmured sweetly as she took her hat off to gently pet the daffodils that had decided to honk in rhythmic fashion with the darkest yellow one honking in low notes and the lightest yellow honking in high notes. They were such funny little plants and if she wasn't afraid of coughing anymore than she was, she would laugh.

She noticed that Winnie had quite the troubled look on her face and that her partner, Mathias, seemed to have caused it. She didn't say anything but continued to observe the pair with wary eyes yet a poker face. No need to reveal thoughts that weren't asked for nor welcome. Besides, she wanted to continue her talks with everyone even if it meant more listening than talking. She smiled at the company she had managed to aqcuire simply through her unusual hat.

However, her eyes never left the couple. She could feel it in her bones that something was off and dangerous about the boy sitting next to Winnie and it made her wish that her allergy had taken her away.

Action: Administering her EpiPen
Items:
- Teacup
- Wrist satchel
- Various rocks
- Wand

Siobhan's Hat:

The pale stone walls seemed to glow with a soft pink glow, and the floating chandeliers were adorned with tiny flowers that fell like delicate rain. The enchanted ceiling showed a sunset sky, with peach and lavender hues mingling together, reflecting the romantic theme of Valentine’s Day. The tables were dressed with lace tablecloths and fine china tableware. Silver teapots released soft plumes of scented steam, and tea fountains spilled rivulets of pastel hues. Stelle sat at a table by an arched window, away from the main bustle. Her golden curls were held back with an ivory ribbon, and her dress, a pale pink hue, fell in soft layers of tulle. The fabric moved with each small change of posture, as if clouds had decided to settle upon her. She had put on a small pearl bracelet, a gift from her mother, and a delicate wing-shaped brooch adorned her hair.

All around her, the students laughed and chatted. Some were exchanging small scented cards, others were nibbling on macarons or sipping rosehip tea. Stelle brought a cup to her lips, enjoying the fruity and comforting taste, but she didn't join in the lively chatter. She watched with a slight smile as a group of girls tried to divine a classmate's love future with tea leaves. The atmosphere was festive, but inside, Stelle felt a little disconnected. Valentine's Day wasn't sad for her; in fact, it was one of the dates she enjoyed the most. Every space was filled with love and decorating the environment with flowers and hearts. As she took another soft sip of tea, she thought about giving her friends something. But she didn't expect to receive anything. Not because she wasn't loved, but because something inside her told her that wouldn't be the case. She remembered her father, he always showered her mother with gifts on those dates and never forgot her. He used to bring her a small bouquet that she would later hang upside down to dry or decorate her room. She sighed softly, her breath fogging the porcelain cup. She set the cup aside and pulled out a small notebook. Among its pages were drawings of flowers, loose notes, and fragments of thoughts. Stelle picked up a pen and began to write, letting the words flow without a specific purpose:

"Love is in the air, but also in the stillness. In the cups of tea shared with myself, in the whisper of the wind against the windows. I need nothing more than this moment, this peace, to remember that love is not always a fuss. Sometimes, it is a murmur."

Stelle stood up, took her cup, and walked through the well-decorated grounds of the place. She did not need a companion or a card full of promises. She had herself, and that, at that moment, was enough. An unexpected warmth filled her chest. Maybe that was what Valentine's Day was about at her young age, learning to enjoy herself and love herself as no one else would love her.

Reducio

Action: Drink a cup of tea.
Open to any interaction

The Beauxbaton welcome tea party was exactly what Gideon expected it to be—frivolous, flowery, and utterly beneath him. The romantic, commercialized overtones of the week could be considered a bot mature for school-aged children. But the students, children really, were play-acting at adulthood, trying so hard to look refined, to make connections. This was what they saw their parents do. This is what they saw the people their parents aspired to be would do. These kids were eleven going on forty, the lot of them. Gideon had arrived late, but the Hufflepuff had not missed anything at all.

And yet, in spite of a lack of interest, here Giddy Athanatos was at a tea party dressed in ridiculous pureblooded finery. He had no use for hot leaf water and he loathed honey dipped carbohydrates. Giddy was there because Taylor, his favorite cousin was here, and she had a talent for making even the dullest of things worth enduring.

If his cousin Taylor was not in France Gideon would have likely found this welcoming tea as an opportunity. The tea party was not the opportunity he found worth attending, but rather the absence the tea party created on the remainder of the grounds. Empty cabins, unattended trunks and unguarded secrets all left vulnerable to Gideon's curiosity.

Taylor was one of many Athanatos cousins. Taylor was his favorite because he found her the most malleable. The one the most capable of finding joy in the sadism. He saw a terrible future in her and he wanted to be a part of it.

Gideon was grooming a partner in crime, carefully over the past few years. It was easy to condition the Russian girl. Taylor had a preference for sweets, she really did not need much more to summon her compliance than the saccharine pull of french confectionaries. He wondered if Koldovstoretz ony fed their students different shades of gruel and that was why she had such a voracious hunger whenever she came to their estate.

Gideon saw a few familiar faces among the students fathered in the great space. His cabinmates had scattered. He did not directly approach them, he would see them all later. Winnie Harper, his brother Mathias Pride's fiance has recovered from her near-death experience. An event caused by him. She was play-acting a lack of memory, something he could not be certain of because of his brother's careless poisoning habit. He gave Winnie, his former victim, a small, almost shy wave accompanied by a smile that just did not sit right on his cherubic face. It was meant to unsettle her, to make her feel exposed.

Another notable student, Emily Shephard had also made a subtle entrance that Giddy would not miss. She had made a blood tithe to the twisted wood. If the girl was foolish enough as to acknowledge him, to made eye contact with him, Gideon would hold her gaze for a few moments before blinking the connection away. She would fixate on a little dark mark wouldn't she?

He would catch the gaze of others. Those that knew Gideon, but he did not know them in turn. Those that Gideon should have known but they were not important enough or relevant enough for him to commit their existence to memory. He did not mind if eyes were on him. On them.

Because people always watched the Athanatos family.

Gideon made sure to keep Taylor close, leaning in with murmured remarks that only she could hear, offering his arm when it suited him, feigning interest in the delicate nonsense of Beauxbatons decorum. They seemed to be more than friends, but exactly what was hard to define.

This tea party was not fun, but it was tolerable he could suppose.

But then, something shifted.

It was small, a barely perceptible thing—something in the way his cousin moved, something in the way the Seer's laughter didn’t ring quite right.

Gideon had spent years memorizing his cousin Taylor, mapping her mannerisms like a cartographer plotting the only land worth knowing.

And this?

This was wrong.

Gideon's smile remained, unchanged, unshaken, because it was never a true smile. The smile was practiced, from his juvenile demeanor he maintained far too long. Seer's mind sharpened, his body shifting imperceptibly closer, as if the act of proximity alone would reveal whatever had just slipped between them, or perhaps beneath his notice.

No.

No, he didn’t like this.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t Taylor being difficult—Gideon knew that brand of mischief intimately. This was something else.

There was something off.

So, without ceremony, without warning, Gideon snatched Taylor's wrist in a manner that didn’t invite protest, guiding her—no, pulling her—toward the edges of the gathering, where the noise of the party dulled against the stone walls.

"I am bored with this." Gideon's voice was light, playful, but beneath it was something heavier, a secret curling at the edges of his words like smoke.

They moved swiftly, Gideon leading, weaving through the crowd. The same smile painted on his youthful visage. His usual charm, his usual effortless grace.

Nothing was wrong.

Everything was fine.

And yet, Gideon didn’t stop until they were somewhere quieter, somewhere where the laughter and the music had dimmed to a distant hum, where the scent of over-sweetened tea no longer clung to the air like a perfumed noose. The din of students, a distant memory.

Then, only then, did he turn to face her fully, eyes sharp and searching, his grip on her wrist loose but unyielding.

"What was that?"

Taylor liked the concept of a tea party. She liked the idea of spending a week in France. Anything was better than the cold, icy expanse that was Koldovstoretz. There were not many people her age in the school. Something adults told her was 'for the best' but she was not so sure about that. She did not want to concentrate on her studies, she wanted to spend time laughing with her girlfriends, going out on dates, playing jokes on her rivals. In Koldov, she had to pick which criteria someone got to fill.

So the party was not the issue. The issue was Gideon. The Seer was enduring her cousin's relentless restlessness with the patience of a saint—well, with the patience of someone who knew pastries were involved. Gideon was a bit overbearing, possessive even. It made him her favorite, her other cousins had the social intelligence of cat, just a lot less cute. The problem was, it was smothering. She wanted to meet new people, to make new friends now that there was a chance to do so, but that was impossible with Giddy welded to her side.

However, Taylor had accepted her fate with grace, sitting elegantly beside Gideon, sipping at tea that tasted like nothing and nibbling on delicate French pastries that, while pretty, were far too small. Seriously, were they feeding birds? Where was the real food? She wandered about the space with Gideon when he became bored with his original vantage point. But he seemed to be more a restrained beast than a restless gentleman.

Taylor had been half-listening to Gideon’s murmured commentary—some combination of mockery, strategic gossip, and subtle manipulation that was very Giddy—when something… shifted. She did not have a warning aura, like one might have for an impending seizure. It just happened.

And it started subtly. Barely noticeable, really.

The sugar cube in her tea dissolved too fast.

Not in the normal way, not in the way a cube of sugar should dissolve, slowly sweetening the liquid. No—one moment, the lone cube was there, bobbing delicately on the surface, and the next, the sugar cube was gone. No ripple. No trace. It was as if someone had performed a disappearance transfiguration on the crystalline cube.

Taylor’s fingers tensed around the porcelain handle of her teacup but she muted her expression. she was an Athanatos, she knew better than to react. This could be as simple as a prank. Next thing she would know, her purse would be full of sugar cubes and she would find one of her cousins doubling over in laughter. Magic was mundane in their world, a missing sugar cube was nothing.

She reached for another cube with a pair of tongs and as she did so she glanced suspiciously about her. She saw some eyes on them, well more so on Giddy. He could have riled someone she reasoned. She looked around and saw no pay-off. This was no prank, was it?

Them just for a second, the edges of her vision blurred, as if the room itself was shifting, twisting, folding in on itself like crumpled paper. Beyond the edges was only blackness. The voices of the other students turned distant, muffled, as though someone had stuffed cotton in her ears or someone had plunged her head into a tub of water. Her breath hitched, her heart hastened with a swelling panic. What was happening. what was happening to her!

And then—

Nothing.

Everything snapped back into place, like a rubber band that had reached its furthest point and came flying back with a stinging crack. The edges unfolded seamlessly, not a wrinkle left.

The tea party continued. The room was the same. The people, the pastries, the ridiculous little plates. Nobody else saw that did they?

Except—Gideon was staring at her. Did he see it too?

He was looking at her.

Too closely.

Too sharply.

Taylor blinked, her own vision feeling too slow, too delayed. The blurriness had left her, but her mind suffered from a temporary fog. Had she imagined that? Surely she had imagined that. But then, why was Gideon still watching her? "Gid—" sounding more like 'geed' with hr heavy accent before she was cut off.

Before Taylor could react, before she could form a sentence, Gideon grabbed the girl by the arm.

Taylor let out an undignified squawk as Gideon seized her wrist, his fingers cool and unyielding. “Oi!” she hissed, nearly spilling what remained of her tea before she gracelessly chugged the contents and roughly placed the empty cup on a vacant corner of a table potentially occupied. She reached for, but missed a berry danish that caught her eye. “Giddy, what is this? Kidnapping? You could at least warn first!”

But Gideon was already pulling Taylor through the crowd, all effortless charm and velvet-clad arrogance, weaving them away from the polite chatter and insipid laughter. Taylor didn’t resist—what was the point? These shoes were not made for running. Something weird had just happened that she could not define, but she lacked the paranoia and fear of her contemporaries.

By the time they stopped in a quieter alcove, the sound of the tea party dulled behind them, she yanked her wrist back with exaggerated offense. “Bozhe moi (O God, my God), Giddy, do you always manhandle your favorite cousin like this?" yes, Taylor knew she was the favorite. "At least let me grab another pastry first.”

Then Taylor saw Giddy's face.

Gideon's usual smirk was there, but the sharpness in his eyes was unmistakable. His grip hadn’t been tight, but it had been deliberate. Purposeful. Was she in trouble? What did she do wrong? Was Uncle Thaddeus going to also be mad? She internally shivered at that possibility.

And now, she was watching him. She did not generally fear him, but she felt something shrink inside her.

"What was that?"

Gideon was demanding an answer to something that Taylor had not even fully comprehended.

Taylor pursed her lips, tilting her head at Gideon like he was a puzzle she hadn’t quite solved. she would never solve. “What was what?” she echoed, blinking up at him with deliberately wide-eyed innocence.

But Taylor knew Gideon too well. And he knew her too well.

So Taylor sighed, folding her arms as she leaned casually against the cool stone wall. “Let me guess. You think I did something.” She arched a brow. “I always do something, Giddy. That is not new.”

Her tone was teasing, but she wasn’t stupid. Something was wrong and she was nervous, but she was also confidently posturing.

“You are many things, cousin. Charming, dangerous, dramatic—” Taylor waved her small hand vaguely, “—but paranoid is new.”

Date: 12th Feb, 2025

Location: Beauxbatons

Mentions: @Ruth Fairchild

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Speech -- Thoughts

Pam smiled, startled by the unexpected comment about her name. Her compliment accepting abilities had not yet improved much,and so she stumbled over her words, flushed a bright red and totally embarrassed herself before managing to thank the boy.

However, before she could dwell on feeling tiny, another girl approached Mateo and Pam turned towards her as she introduced herself as Sabrina Lyons. In a rather excited tone. And a very. Big. Smile.

Pam accepted the handshake, "Nice to meet you, I'm Pamela Graham." She gave the girl a swift once-over, but before she could say anything else, another girl rambled over to them, sinking into a seat beside Sabrina and complaining about her roommates. Pam found herself quirking up an eyebrow in interest at the two girls. Huh. Is this a personification of opposites attract? She heard Mateo reply to her, before putting in her own answer, "One of our roommates put us all together pretty much by herself. Can't say I'm really sure how it works."

Pam admitted she was proud of her best friend. Ruth Fairchild had single handedly arranged all of them together. Not to mention the amount of effort the girl had put into persuading her to camp with her. She was glad now that she had gone along with her though.

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Action: Interacting with @Avery Gray@Tracey Bailey @ Sabrina Lyons @Avis Marlong
Sta:5 | Eva: 6 | Str:4 | Wis:7 | Arc: 7 | Acc:6
Special Abilities: Calming Presence
Outfit:

Reducio

Pulling the plate of star shaped chocolates closer to herself, Sabrina nodded as the girls introduced themselves, repeating the names in her mind to better remember them.
"I've been great! So many things happened over the time we haven't seen each other - we should definitely catch up later. In the meantime, have you found your victim?" she replied to Mateo's question, refering to their last conversation, popping another star into her mouth.

Just then, someone collapsed into the chair beside her, their voice one Sabrina knew well. "Avis!" she greeted the other raven brightly, although visibly startled . Bumping their shoulders together, she swung her arm around the taller girl's shoulders, pulling her into a sort of sideways hug. If Avis didn't pull away or shake her off, Sabrina would leave her arm there.

Even though the question wasn't directed at them, Sabrina was glad for both Mateo's and Pamela's inputs, as it gave her more time to think. You see, Avis just complained. Didn't greet her or anything, just plopped down and went for it. It was a friends thing, yeah, but it hardly was an Avis thing. "No idea, but by the sounds of it, their anonymity won't save them from your wrath" she offered with a smile.

For some reason, this casual interaction seemed to matter in a way Sabrina couldn't quite place. Her eyes were set on her friend, almost as if searching for something. Am I overthinking this?

"How badly do you want to take revenge on them?" She settled on, nudging the plate of stollen chocolates towards the other Ravenclaw. How serious is this 'suffering'?

OPEN FOR INTERACTIONS!

Stamina: 7 | Evasion: 4 | Strength: 5 | Wisdom: 9 | ArcPower: 6 | Accuracy: 4

WC: 264| Interacting with: @Tracey Bailey as Mateo Yamamoto, @Avery Gray and @Pamela Graham

Speech | Thoughts | Emphasis