The LeDames Winter Ball

ROLEPLAYING AS BEAUXBATONS iNPC AURÉLIE NATHALIE DUVAL

@EmmaLee LeDames Hans Jenssen (@Archer Duncan)

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

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

action. the entire Duval family is on the dance floor

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Aurélie was pretty sure, the moment that the words came out of her mouth, that what she'd said was extremely rude. So much for being mad at him for being rude. She'd just went and pointed out very specifically that people in this room might not like Hans for something that he couldn't even control. What was she thinking? The only part of this entire thing that would even remotely make her smile was the fact that if her mother knew what she'd just done, the level of horrified that her face would express would be on another level.

Please don't get angry, I didn't really mean it in a rude way. The thought was very insistent in Aurélie's brain, yet she kept her mouth shut, somewhat intrigued by the fact that Hans hadn't immediately begun yelling at her. Perhaps he was just thinking up a proper response to her very unproper statement.

Finally, when he did speak, Hans didn't sound much bothered. In fact, he sounded quite the opposite. She raised her eyebrows at the word that came out of his mouth so carelessly, but didn't comment. She couldn't say she was used to such language, having been around only her mild-mannered grandparents and parents for most of her life, but hearing it didn't bother her as much as it very well should have. She honestly found the bit of rebellion against the elders in the room exciting, which said a lot about her, to say the least.

"I suppose it doesn't." Aurélie shrugged, her concentration split between the dance and the words being exchanged. "Well, it's good to know you don't mind any of it at all. In the words of my grandfather, that would mean you have a "mature mind."" She rolled her eyes, then tried on a tentative grin, unsure whether to go back to their friendly jesting, or to be more careful now that Hans had spilled so much about himself.

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“Oh there’s no reason for anyone to freak out over a word,” he said, tone reassuring even though Aurélie gave no comment on the profanity as he returned her exasperated eye roll. With a purposefully enigmatic face still adorned with the grin his eyes flitted downwards as their conversation approached a sharply serious turn. “People do worse things. They hate, they discriminate, they kill, they invade other countries and they enslave house elves and they call each other slurs.” Hans doubted he needed to elaborate on all the atrocities this world committed — from whatever the hell was happening politics to modern day slavery excused with the most pathetic reason of “they enjoy it”. Despite how much he tried not to bring himself to think about it the world was an absolute clusterfuck — that was obvious enough when even the man under a rock feels the earthquake. Looking into Aurélie’s eyes to make sure the message sinks in completely, “It doesn’t matter, the kindest people can curse while the cruelest ones are full of their bullshit decorum. Say fuck or shit all you want, doesn’t change the fact that most people here are probably arrogant jerks. Words don’t come with maturity, ma dame, anyone can say a word. Realising those things and knowing they are wrong do.”

Clearing his throat and smiling at whatever response he would be offered, he guided his partner and the conversation once more for a break from such bleak subjects and the dancing. “On a lighter note, are you hungry, ma dame? I’ve barely had anything to eat today.” Otto had had a wide array of suits prepared for him in advance, and when Hans had complained in an offhand comment that none matched his style. Otto had taken that as a sign Hans needed ten more, despite his insistence against the hauling. He had been told that while his innate ability at seamless adaptation was admirable, it was time to make the world adapt to him and not vice versa. They had skipped lunch shopping and walked out of the shops with brightly coloured suits of red and gold and a receipt treated as nothing by his grandfather Hans would rather not consider.

This was the Otto he knew, spoiling him beyond rotten much to the annoyance of his parents. Yet what he didn’t know, is how pigs are fattened before being slaughtered.

@Ophelia Northwell as Aurélie Duval

EmmaLee smiled brightly as Yasha carefully inserted himself into the conversation between her few friends and the, actually rather polite, German boy. She couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised at yet another familiar face and when he revealed himself as her first suitor, she could have kissed him, platonically, of course. Having just one "suitor" she didn't have to explain her current relationship to was a blessing from the white ladies themselves.

Giving the others a quick "see you later", EmmaLee placed her hand in Yasha's and let him lead her into the dance, the two hopping seamlessly into the throng with an almost practiced ease. Somehow, EmmaLee only realized now that Yasha was almost as tall as Stephen, were the two boys closer in age than she thought, or was he just really tall for his age?

The thought of Stephen made her frown. His short return to her letter had not been very reassuring, but as she had said in hers, it was understandable if he was upset. She had once again complicated their relationship somehow. Would this be their whole relationship? Herself getting them into messes and misunderstandings, and him having to put up with it and wait for an explanation? Maybe it would be better....

Yasha tapped her nose a couple of times, bringing her attention back to his pale face.

"Where did you go, SverkaniyeSparkle?" Yasha said with a chuckle, once they had fully mingled with the other dancers. It was to be expected but she couldn't help continuing to compare him to Stephen. She supposed that this was how this whole night would go. Which suitor was the most or least like Stephen? EmmaLee groaned.

"Anywhere, but 'ere, frankly." She admitted openly to her friend. Yasha had become something of an older brother friend to she and Kaya over well the summer, well, not Kaya. Kaya clearly had her own deeper feelings for the lanky Russian blooming, but that wasn't really EmmaLee's place to meddle in unless invited to. "I would much rather be celebrating Christmas and the New Year at 'ome."

"Ah. So it would seem that you are not enjoying this grand display on your behalf?" Yasha said with another chuckle, asking a question he already knew the answer to. "You very much seem to be the grand display here."

"No. Not at all." EmmaLee said as the dance bent the ladies over their partners arms. "This pomp and circumstance does not suit me well."

"Admittedly, it fits you like a glove, but it feels like putting a songbird in a gilded cage. So, is Emmiline a true name or?" Yasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No. Please do not ever call me that. Emmiline is the name my mother's family insists on calling me. They 'ate my true name because it is the one my father gave me." She said with a scowl, rubbing the space between her eyebrows with her thumb and index finger before lightly placing her hand back in Yasha's so he could twirl her as the other girls were twirled.

"It shall never exit my mouth again." Yasha said with a smirk as the song began winding down. "It is nice to see real warmth in your cheeks." He continued as he pinched them. "They have been lacking lately." The older, taller boy seemed to consider his words for a moment before speaking again. "How do you intend to handle this betrothal and your relationship with Schwartz? You are together, still, yes?"

EmmaLee's shoulders and the corners of her mouth deflated. She had a plan, a rather terrible one, but a plan nonetheless. The only wonder was if Stephen was still going to be around at the end of it. Old doubts began to fill her mind again as she looked around the room over Yasha's shoulder. She could face loss after loss on the dueling piste and get up again, one hundred percent confident that she was going to win this time. Where was that unwavering confidence now? Yasha poked her freckled nose again.

"You have flown away again, Sverkaniye." He said with a chuckle. EmmaLee shook her head.

"I'm not going through with it. I plan to explain to these suitors that I have already found my match and I am sorry they 'ave come in vain." She said. Yasha waved a no-no finger near her nose.

"That will not do well, Sverkaniye. You must not make your guests feel like they have wasted their time. Engage them, be the sparkling light that you are, enjoy this party that is meant for you. You do not owe any of them a moment of your time outside of this five or six minutes. They do not have to know that you will never be speaking to them again." He explained. It made sense. She could do a lot of damage to the LeDames reputation here, that being one of the main reasons she was even on this dance floor.

"If your family insists you pick a match, you may pick me, and we will find ourselves unsuitable for each other at a later time." Yasha finished with a wink and a smirk. Oh. That was a great idea and EmmaLee was a little floored that she hadn't thought of it before. Not that she had ever considered any of her friends were pureblood. After all these years, blood status didn't even cross her mind anymore. EmmaLee nodded at his idea.

"You're right. Thank you, Yasha." She said, genuinely, as the taller boy began to twirl her once more.

"You're welcome, Sverkaniye, and remember, Schwartz is a smart boy. He is not going to let you get away because of a silly pure-blood tradition." And with that, EmmaLee and Yasha were whisked apart by different dance partners.

Biometrics: 5'7. Medium-length black hair covers his right eye which is cloudy blue, left eye is bright green. Lean.


As EmmaLee took his offered hand and bid her circle of friends, farewell, Yasha looked around the party. There were quite a few more than expected, but not as many as hoped around their own age. He was right in thinking that EmmaLee's suitors were probably already more hm established than was probably necessary.

The Russian shook his head as he deftly maneuvered them through the crowd towards the dancefloor and into the dance with the other couples. Old, white snakes indeed. As he had looked around, he thought he caught a familiar tuft of brown hair in one corner of the room, but he dismissed the idea. How would Schwartz even get to France, much less into this party? The White Women were probably watching the guest list like hawks. Making sure every i was dotted and t was crossed properly for their little songbird's debut.

"Are you having a good time, Sverkaniye?" he asked, once they were fully in the swing of the dance and could talk. It was unsurprising that EmmaLee was as good of a dancer as he was. In another life, maybe she would have really shone in pureblood society, but as she was now, she looked miserable in her fluffy white dress and this gilded hall.

She was obviously lost in her own thoughts, though Yasha could not fathom what they could be about... well, he could fathom. He tapped her nose playfully a couple of times until she looked up at him once again.

Yasha tapped her nose a couple of times, bringing her attention back to his pale face.

"It does not do to leave a conversation with a potential suitor hanging in the clouds. Where did you go, SverkaniyeSparkle?" Yasha said with a chuckle. He could also watch as EmmaLee focused on his face, slowly coming back from whatever sad reverie she had been stuck in.

"Anywhere, but 'ere, frankly." EmmaLee said finally with a deep sigh. "I would much rather be celebrating Christmas and the New Year at 'ome." Frankly, so would he, but here they were: A porcelain doll and her friend, trying to prevent her from being sold to the highest bidder.

"Ah. So, it would seem that you are not enjoying this grand display on your behalf?" Yasha said with another chuckle. It was clear that she was not enjoying this almost at all. She seemed to enjoy the fact that her friends were here, and maybe the ball in general, but EmmaLee had never seemed the kind of person to him to enoy being the center of attention. Just from observation over the summer, she liked group activities and team challenges, where the glory was shared and she was not the only one under the spotlight. "You very much seem to be the grand display here."

"No. Not at all." EmmaLee said as the dance called for Yasha to dip the girl over his arm. "This pomp and circumstance does not suit me well."

"Admittedly, it fits you like a glove, but it feels like putting a songbird in a gilded cage. So, is Emmiline a true name or?" Yasha asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as he set her upright and continued the dance around the ballroom.

"No. Please do not ever call me that. Emmiline is the name my mother's family insists on calling me. They 'ate my true name because it is the one my father gave me." The snowy spark said with a scowl, rubbing the space between her eyebrows with her thumb and index finger. Well, that was a conversation for later.

"It shall never exit my mouth again." Yasha said with a smirk as the song began winding down. Their time for conversing was coming to an end. "It is nice to see real warmth in your cheeks. They have been lacking lately." Yasha continued, teasingly pinching one of them. The last time he had seen her, she had been even paler, thin, and grey-looking, like a ghost of her former self. It was nice to see that, well, spark back inside of her, if only a little bit. He knew that part of it was the death of her friend, but she also seemed to be just a lot less of herself this year since the summer. "How do you intend to handle this betrothal and your relationship with Schwartz? You are together, still, yes?" He asked after a moment of thought. He had come here to help her out in that way after all.

EmmaLee's shoulders and the corners of her mouth fell like ice off a cliff and she seemed to struggle for a long time with and answer for Yasha. Before she could get lost in thought again, Yasha poked the end of her nose.

"You have flown away again, Sverkaniye." He said with a chuckle, trying to draw her back to the ballroom. EmmaLee shook her head and pouted, looking unsure of her answer.

"I'm not going through with it. I plan to explain to these suitors that I have already found my match and I am sorry they 'ave come in vain." She said, finally, in a way that suggested that this was the best idea she had. Yasha waved a no-no finger near her nose. That was not a good plan at all presuming that the whole reason she was doing this was for her family and their reputation, like most pureblood children nowadays.

"That will not do well, Sverkaniye. You must not make your guests feel like they have wasted their time. Engage them, be the sparkling light that you are, enjoy this party that is meant for you. You do not owe any of them a moment of your time outside of this five or six minutes. They do not have to know that you will never be speaking to them again." He explained, gesturing with a flourish of his arm towards the dancefloor. She could enjoy the thing even if she didn't enjoy the purpose and then she could leave it all behind her. Theoretically.

"If your family insists you pick a match, you may pick me, and we will find ourselves unsuitable for each other at a later time." Yasha finished with a wink and a smirk. It would be very easy to draw out the betrothal process and let EmmaLee and Stephen do what they will, then break it off because they just aren't a good match, which they aren't. Most families didn't try a betrothal twice if there weren't any other offers. Hopefully, there wouldn't be any other offers, and his friend could ride off into the sunset with her American Beau, or however those things went.

"You're right. Thank you, Yasha." She said, nodding her head at his suggestion as if she hadn't fathomed that before. Maybe she hadn't wanted to get her friends mixed up in her mess, as her boyfriend already was.

"You're welcome, Sverkaniye, and remember, Schwartz is a smart boy. He is not going to let you get away because of a silly pure-blood tradition." He poked her nose one final time before spinning off into the arms of the next girl in line, a pretty brunette who remined him of Kaya Rose for a moment.

ROLEPLAYING AS BEAUXBATONS iNPC AURÉLIE NATHALIE DUVAL

@EmmaLee LeDames Hans Jenssen (@Archer Duncan)

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

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

action. the entire Duval family is on the dance floor, except for Aurélie

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Aurélie stared back at Hans as he began speaking. Something about his voice told her to shut up and listen, and not only that, but to listen hard as well. He spoke like he was giving a speech, and she heard every word clearly. The terrible crimes committed by this world, by humanity. She blinked. She didn't really know what was going on anymore. This conversation had just gotten a lot deeper than she'd signed up for.

"Um, right." That was definitely not the right response. At all. But Aurélie didn't really know what to say. "I'm sorry, Hans. I just... I like to joke when I don't know what to say next." Well, that was stripping bare in front of someone else, now wasn't it? She tried to whisk the thought away, focusing on the dance. The time to change partners was almost upon them.

Perhaps Hans was having the same thoughts, as he asked her whether she was hungry. "Yes, yes, let's go eat." If Hans offered his arm once more, she'd allow herself to get led off of the dance floor and towards the tables. She looked over and found her parents and grandparents still dancing, though now their partners had changed. EmmaLee was somewhere in there as well.

Maybe after spending a bit more time with Hans, she could go find her Hogwarts friend again, if she wasn't too busy with her suitors and whoever those guys were around her.

"How come you haven't had anything to eat today?"

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As expected the delivery offered exactly what he was hoping for: awestruck silence that certainly boosted a bloating ego. "No, don't apologise," he reassured, trying for humility, "I don't mean to leave you out of words. As they call it in English... I went off on a tangent." Having been raised under the wing of political influence speaking was as easy as breathing for Hans, most of the times he didn't even know how his methods worked -- they just did. He was not in the habit of attending conferences or competitions, simply held the same confidence before everyone as he would before a stage, jesting when necessary but knowing all the same when he needed to drop the bomb on them. Aurélie had offered the perfect entrance of cursing so he just took it. It was a lesson learnt simply from hearing his grandfather talk all day.

Formally and grandly offering his arm to the lady as the topic changed to much lighter tones, Hans nodded as she allowed herself to be led off the dance floor and towards the much welcomed refreshments. They were lavish food with an incredible range, not just from France as he had expected- not just Europe instead as his eyes scanned over the entirety of the table. Currywurst to curry rice, ravioli to dumplings, pasta to Zhajiangmian, the LeDames had decided to go all out with the global cuisine. "Oh," he laughed, easily falling back into the careless conversation from the serious turn the topic had just taken, "I went shopping today and missed lunch." Tugging the suit in question he said, "This thing literally just got the price tag removed."

Gesturing to Aurélie he smiled, "Lady's first. What do you want to eat? We could grab a table and sit down too."

@Ophelia Northwell as Aurélie Duval

ROLEPLAYING AS BEAUXBATONS iNPC AURÉLIE NATHALIE DUVAL

@EmmaLee LeDames Hans Jenssen (@Archer Duncan)

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

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

action. the entire Duval family is on the dance floor, except for Aurélie who is eating

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Aurélie had no idea where this conversation was going, at this point. There was her, with her usually ever-present flow of language having deserted her, and there was Hans, speaking about politics and curse words and maturity. And then there was the party around them. The dancers spinning in beautiful circles, arm in arm. The powerful matriarchs and patriarchs of families that wielded their blood status as a shield. It was all just too much, and the French girl was glad that they were going to eat and sit down now.

She laughed a little at Hans' comment about the price tag. If nothing else, her parents had certainly made sure that she didn't lack in the uncomfortable clothing required of such functions. She didn't have the most wide variety of casual clothing, but her fancy attire was an assortment like no other. Thankfully, she chose neutral colors for herself, anything that wouldn't be too catchy on the eyes, for if she didn't, her wardrobe would certainly be a rainbow of a whole other level. "Ah, well, one could never tell! You look exceptional in a suit, Hans." That was one thing Aurélie could do without fail, provide compliments where they were due.

As they neared the tables where the options for food were put out on display, Hans allowed her to choose first. She considered everything, with no regard to whether or not she'd seen the exotic dishes before or not. "I want to try everything." She declared to Hans, piling her plate high with food that she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to finish, when the time came for actually consuming it all.

Aurélie waited patiently for Hans to pick his own assortment, before gesturing to an empty table. "Let's sit?" If the boy agreed, she'd take a seat and begin her feast.

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Round and round and round they go, the dancers and the whispers. It seems there is an unwanted, but certainly invited by someone, guest in our midst. At least that is what Mylene LeDames has confirmed to her mother. How appalling! Who would have done such a thing?

Isn't it funny how you think you have all the power at your own party and then someone slips in under your notice?

It seems that the thing to do for the moment is to let the night play out, but that does not mean that this intrusion upon their plan for their offspring would go uninvestigated or unpunished. There are cracks, more like fissures, in the LeDames household, and it isn't too hard to guess who is instigating those cracks, considering the way Genvieve LeDames is glaring at the dance floor towards her uncontrollable first born.

As the dance spun on amongst the whispers of the white women, the bride to be, well hopefully not to be, whirled out of her friend's grasp and into the consecutive arms of two boys who were polite and nice, but rather arrogant and wholly uninteresting. The good thing is, they seem about as interested in this merger as EmmaLee and all agree that it is better to not.

The next arms EmmaLee finds herself in are those of Ginyami Midorimori, her Japanese business partner. The shock is short-lived as she has a similar conversation to the one with Yasha. Isn't it nice that our white lady has such considerate, caring friends?

As our bride-to-be-but-not-to-be is whirled out of the Japanese man's arms, she enters the arms of someone entirely more familiar, one dashing, but unmistakably brooding Stephen Shwartz. Will this be a happy encounter, or more drama in the air for these two?

As EmmaLee's sapphire eyes widen with shock at her boyfriend's presence in the last place she expected him to be this holiday, the dancefloor begins to empty, first of her friends, Hans and Aurelie, then of her parents, a heavily pregnant woman can only dance for so long after all, and then of quite a few other guests who have danced themselves near starving and headed for the food table.

This leaves our star-crossed lovers a little more room to dance the night away and air out anything between them that has boiled up due to another of EmmaLee's flubs in communication.

As the night rolls on, so does The Matriarch's C at on the other side of the room, the first round winding down towards an end as only about five participants left standing.

As Hans and Aurélie approach the food table and select their food, they both hear the distinct sound of giggling from under the tables and a distinct swoosh of fabric that could not be caused by the many feet that have begun to surround the table.
Hans Jenssen passing the drink table, will find his newly fancied foot colliding with a distinctly bare one and a lift of the tablecloth will reveal one of the youngest girls to be found, who will offer a handkerchief and ask to be taken to her grandmother so she may join her sisters and cousins.
As Aurélie Duval gathers her small hoard of a bit of everything to be had, her own foot will also collide with a different bare foot, one that is only slightly older than Hans' find but still significantly younger than the both of them. With two handkerchiefs now in her pocket, Aurélie is on the way to winning that wonderful cake that her friend made.

Ira Thornfield will also spy a little whisp of a girl whirling around the dancefloor, her loose, white hair and bare feet an obvious out of place character among the glittering dancers. Talk about right under your nose, it's a bit odd that no one has noticed her yet, maybe people really thought she was a ghost and have ignored her this whole time, but Ira is observant and smart and has no doubt noticed the growing group of girls in the same outfits lining up on the steps in front of the guest-of-honor's chair. When approached by the Hufflepuff, the girl will giggle, present her handkerchief, and ask to be led back to her grandmother.
 
New friendships made, old ones solidified, many a White Woman found, and feelings ablaze in many ways, the night continues round and round. Where it stops nobody knows.

ROUNDS TWO, THREE, AND FOUR

Guest List

Reducio

@Aleksandra FairBairn @Yağmur Harrow @Jack Burnett as Ginyami Midorimori @Prat Pass Artorias Pass @Archer Duncan as Hans Jenssen Otto Schafer	@Ira Thornfield Apsara Thornfield Reginald Thornfield Ivy Thornfield @Ophelia Northwell as Aurélie Nathalie Duval Anaïs Océane Duval Henri Duval Augustin Duval Élodie Duval Yasha Volkov Olexi Volkov Alyona Volkov
>>>>	>>>>
@Opeila Winters Jarno Virtanen Hilja Virtanen Lysander Virtanen Annika Wehrle Matthias Ravensburg Alexandra Ravensburg Leopold Ravensburg Genevieve Ravensburg Malyen Ravensburg Dorian Crane	@Evpraksiya M. Y. Vinogradova Morozov V. Vinogradov Ekaterina Y. S. Vinogradova née De Beauharnais Nadezhda M. L. Vinogradova Tatiana M. I. Vinogradova Konstantin V. C. Vinogradov Stanislav V. O. Vinogradov Ludovic M. D. De Beauharnais Clémentine K. De Beauharnais Marguerite V. De Beauharnais Adélaïde M. C. De Beauharnais

There will be three different moderated events for this ball.
Please put somewhere at the bottom of your post whether your guests are playing The Matriarch's C at, on the dancefloor, or wandering the ball.
YOU DO NOT HAVE TO ROLEPLAY EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR GUESTS (you can of course) BUT PLEASE TELL ME WHERE THEY ARE OR I WILL ASSUME THEY ARE ON THE DANCEFLOOR.

DANCING

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The dancefloor is not magical, you may enter or exit at your leisure, but it is a set dance.
A Le Changement De Dames (Exchange of Ladies) Waltz is a waltz where partners are changed during the song or during the transition between songs.
Description: https://www.libraryofdance.org/dances/e ... -partners/
Video Example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S02fo0PLibE

Those who are on the dance floor will be switching partners but this is not a fast dance. The point is to have time for conversation. There will be seven changes.
OOC partners will switch every Saturday.
IC partners will switch as one song turns to another.
EmmaLee and her suitors will be force paired according to her dance card, everyone else will be paired via randomization.

PAIRS

EmmaLee LeDames | Stephen Schwartz (@AngelFyre McCubbin
@Ira Thornfield | Yasha Volkov

THE MATRIARCH'S CAT

Reducio

This is an old, Victorian era parlor game.

Players go through the alphabet saying an adjective about the cat. The Matriarch's cat is Adorable, Beautiful, Callous, Daring, and so on until you reach Z and then start over.
Once everyone has gone once, the circle swaps places, and play continues with the last letter. You cannot repeat an adjective throughout the whole game.

For ease of roleplay, I will make a randomized list of player order and then also randomize who is able to come up with an adjective and who fails to think of a new one and post it with each moderation.
You may add whatever spice you like to your guest's pass or fail. (Ex: You can decide whether they can't come up with one or they repeat a previously said adjective)

No Players this round

BEWARE THE WHITE WOMEN

EVERYONE IS PLAYING THIS GAME
Whether intentionally or unintentionally.

Reducio

All of the French guests, who have been here before, have an advantage because they know that there is a secret game being played.
Anyone who is actively searching gets ANOTHER advantage.

There are SEVEN LeDames girls hiding around the ball.
Each girl has long, loose, white hair and is wearing a simple white dress and no shoes.
If you find one of the girls, they will give you a white handkerchief and you will need to bring her the Matriarchs seated at the head of the hall.
Some of the girls are actively hiding and some are right under your nose.
You may use spells (that are in your trunk) and other clever means to find them.

OOC: Each person who finds one of the girls will get a chocolate frog at the end of the ball. The person who finds the most will get two chocolate frogs for every girl they found.
IC: The person who finds the most girls when all are found will get a Black Forest Cake baked by EmmaLee. Usually, her aunt, Genvieve's Second daughter, LaLune makes the cake.

White Women Found

1. Charlotte (Soliel's Second Daughter) by Aurélie Nathalie Duval (@Ophelia Northwell)
2. Anthonia (Soliel's First Daughter) by Henri Duval (@Ophelia Northwell)
3. Justine (LaLune's Third Daughter) by Han Jenssen (@Archer Duncan)
4. Loup (Mylene's Second Daughter) by Aurélie Nathalie Duval (@Ophelia Northwell)
5. Antonette (LaLune's Second Daughter) by @Ira Thornfield

Very sorry that this got so long. My IRL life has been a lot the past couple of months. >.>
There will be one more moderation after this so that the last two girls may be found. Otherwise, enjoy the night.
Anyone on the guest list who has not jumped in yet is very welcome to jump in and enjoy the festivities and the new tension in the room. XD
EmmaLee and her mother have a lot of splainin' to do in the morning. >.>

Thanking Aurélie pleasantly for the compliment even if it was merely out of decorum or to shift the subject away, he watched as the girl piled her plate with an impossible variety of food, declaring her desire to try everything. Himself excited for the meal he too took a generous portion, making him a hypocrite for having previously wanted to criticise her for not being able to finish. Soon Hans had made his way to the drinks table, browsing the wide variety and not understanding any of the mocktails, he was surprised to find something most certainly not for consumption.

Slightly taken aback as his foot brushed against a bare one of a young girl Hans looked upwards, distracted from the drinks by a white-haired lass with a dress of the same stark colour. Giving her a curious glance as she held out a handkerchief, he glanced towards Aurélie, but she seemed to be in a similar engagement with another barefooted lady. Offering the little girl a smile he was about to ask her whether she was cold in an outfit so rustic compared to the spinning heirs and heiresses around them, she spoke up first, telling the boy to bring the handkerchief to a matriarch. Taking it gently, Hans nodded as if it was a great honour, bowed extravagantly, and thanked her. What a curious party game, he thought, cocking his head part in bewilderment and part in amusement as his eyes found the ones of the matriarch referred to.

Bringing the handkerchief back towards his dance partner as her own interaction seemed to have come to an end, he asked, with a small laugh and a gesture towards her own kerchief, “So what’s this about? We should go get this to the LeDames grandmother right? Is this like a game or something?”

@Ophelia Northwell as Aurélie Duval

ROLEPLAYING AS BEAUXBATONS iNPC AURÉLIE NATHALIE DUVAL

@EmmaLee LeDames Hans Jenssen (@Archer Duncan)

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

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

action. the Duvals are on the dance floor, except for Aurélie who is approaching the matriarchs

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Aurélie watched with amusement as Hans did exactly was she had moments prior. Instead of taking only a polite amount of food from the extravagant tables, he, too, took as much as he could carry, eager to try all the different cuisines. Perhaps, she and the boy weren't so different after all, no matter their backgrounds.

As she asked him whether they should go sit, she felt her foot, which was still in the terrible heels that Anaïs Océane had unearthed, brush something underneath the table. Not hard enough to trip her, though the feat would've been incredibly easy with her terrible balance in these shoes. But just lightly enough that she was curious as to what the thing was. Careful not to spill her platter of food on the floor, or worse, herself, Aurélie ducked down and found, amazingly, another LeDames girl. She handed the Duval girl a handkerchief and left with a smile.

When Aurélie looked back up, she saw that Hans, too, had one in his hand, along with a bewildered look about his face. He must not go to these sorts of French soirees often, then. When he asked whether they should go to visit the LeDames matriarch, Aurélie fought the instinct to shrug. She'd been planning on presenting both her handkerchiefs along with her grandfather at the end of the event, while her whole family went to say goodbye to the matriarchs, but she didn't mind going with Hans.

The girl set her plate down on one of the empty tables nearby and gestured to Hans. "Yes, yes, it's a game. The person with the most girls found get a prize." She gave him a smirk, pulling out the other handkerchief that she'd hidden away, now having one in each hand. "I don't know for sure, but I think I'm in the lead."

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