The Spring Soirée Spring Ball 2025

banner by Prat Pass || interacting as Hans Jenssen

Hans found the entire predicament to be positively frivolous, especially as a way to meet someone, what would have usually been a quick “sorry” and a reassurance that he was fine stretched out into purposeful tension. She showed a certain pugnacity, and if not with her fists at least in the form of words. The Hogwarts girl proved to be almost fiercely adorable in her comebacks, quite like Oonagh if the feisty Scot had payed more attention to her hair or learnt a some eloquence.

“Well, that’s one way to make an introduction.”

“Yes,” Hans conceded, followed by a short, measured laugh, “But not exactly the best way,” He had a few words on what sort of impression Isabella was leaving on him.

He snorted at the remark that accompanied, certain that there was nothing close to an apology coming anytime soon, not that he would have minded. “Wow,” Hans exclaimed sarcastically, feigning hurt at the mockery but his lips tugged upwards in enjoyment at her sass. If not anything else it was certainly a breath of fresh air amongst the many prim and proper heirs of Durmstrang, a haughtiness that meant something else other than their standards of familial perfection. Glancing at his watch then scanning the room for where Nik might have been sat after their parting, he pushed away from the table of refreshments and bid the unnamed girl a goodbye. “Well it was nice meeting you; perhaps our paths would cross again but for now I have someone waiting on me.”

Smoothing down his shirt, now spotless from the successful cast of scourgify, soon Hans would have left the girl unless she made any sudden movements to restrict him, to which he would probably start harbouring second thoughts about a nature previously described as sardonically charming. He doubted fate would be so intended on having the two complete strangers meet once more and with that the incident of spilt butter beer would be left behind with all of the foods and drinks he dared not touch.

As he had expected Nikolai was sat to the edge of the celebration, the ebbing and flowing crowds in all different colours and costumes untouching him at his solitary table. Perhaps it was no wise move attempting to sneak up on a boy who had spent most of his lifetime observing on the sidelines and still chose to do so today once more with a frown lined into his forehead in the first place, but Hans was nothing if not reckless. Approaching from behind him and wrapped his arms over Nikolai’s shoulders Hans caught him in an unexpected embrace. With a devious smile he shouted, “Boo!”

Yes, you totally knew it was me and not an axe murderer.

As he let go and pulled out the chair beside Nikolai so he could sit down himself Hans felt inexplicable guilt strike him. The hallmark shine of saltwater reflecting under the Great Halls many chandeliers could have compared the tears to any grander the room could conjure yet none could hide the pain behind them. He was managing a smile but at the sight of it Hans’ own threatened to drop. To think that he was dealing with an asinine butter beer spill and a girl who fit into the adjective even better while Nikolai was alone save for this tears made Hans want to ask him just to be more clingy next time. Brows furrowing at the mess of emotions in his heart eventually he found little words. “Sorry,” Hans said, without evasion as he directed the straightforward statement towards glistening blue eyes, “I got a bit caught up. How are you feeling?”

Edging his chair closer to him as he draped his arm over Nik’s neck he leaned into the boy and gestured with his free hand at the extravaganza Hogwarts had churned up, with lips spread lightly as he tried to channel some positivity, “Tolerating all this, at least?”

MODERATION ROUND FIVE

_{Image created using Bing AI.}

Perhaps the ball was dying down, and the patrons were beginning to lose interest in the festivities around them. Nothing much seemed to occur, other than a few new faces gracing the hall and looking upon the ballroom, all the hard work the ball planners put in displayed front and center, no matter where you looked. The architecture of the Great Hall was already grand, something that didn’t need to be modified at all to accommodate the grand venue that was expected of a Hogwarts Gala.

Although the grand event had been a hit, with plenty of students taking part, filled with dancing, laughter, and even some pranks, that had been before the rain. This was rain that had the potential to ruin clothing and strike down using lightning to destroy many things that were dear to the school, including the students. Luckily, it was quickly dealt with, and now the ballroom remained suited for the grandiose event, simply a tad… wet.

Two students visiting from afar had a much delayed arrival, and ended up very quickly making beelines for the drinks. One of the two had nothing to worry about— he could sip away at the drink in hand, with nothing to worry about. The other? Well, his absence from the very beginning was biting him, with his ignorance of the grand spiking very clear upon his ingestion of the liquid. He would soon discover that it was poised against him, set to reveal any hatred he felt to the entire ballroom. The trap was set, and the only question was: Would he discover the flaw hiding in the froth before it was too late? (@Ariam Vargas/@Aston Beckett) & (@Melor Baskakova/@Cirrus Nam)

Rolls:
Owl or DM me about any mistakes you may find.

Reducio

Spring Soirée Ball Rolls, Round 5

50% chance of Ariam having a spiked drink, procs on 1
[d2 : 1] = 1 —> Ariam’s drink is spiked

Ariam’s resistance, DC 17
[d20 : 4] + 3 = 7 —> no, Ariam is not resistant to the hate potion.

Ariam realizing the drink is spiked, WDC 14
[d20 : 8] + 8 = 16 —> success, he knows his drink is spiked. It is up to the writer if Ariam discovers this before or after drinking it.

50% chance Melor’s drink is spiked, procs on 1
[d2 : 2] = 2 —> Melor’s drink is not spiked.

Reducio

_{Image generated by Bing AI.}

Upon entrance into The Spring Soirée, each player will receive a "dance card", a RP opportunity for players to engage with. Within the dance card, names of whom your character dances with must be recorded, beware of prying eyes should their names not be found within the dance card and they are dancing with your player, as this would be the most scandalous thing to do.

NOTE: The inclusion of dance cards is solely for a RP opportunity, you are not obliged to comply with this, but should you mention it, please ensure the character your character dances with, was included in the dance card.

OOC Information
Welcome to the Spring Soirée!

1. To participate, you must be indexed. If you are not indexed yet, please apply here.
2. Moderation will occur every week, or about 168 hours.
3. Your character is allowed one moderated action per round. Please specify your moderated action somewhere OOC in your post.

Reducio

Moderated actions are actions that require rolls, like casting a spell on someone, physically fighting (like punching) with someone, surprising someone, etc. Rolls are not needed for pre-decided or consented actions, like asking someone for a dance.

4. Please include your abilities and stats in each post you make.
5. There are two other threads that are part of the Spring Ball, The Garden of Eden and The Twisted Tavern. You can directly enter the other threads if you have signed up for The Twisted Tavern or wish to participate in the main event, The Spring Soirée, but if you have already posted here, please specify that you are leaving this thread for either one of the other two, as your character cannot be in two places at once.
6. Please follow all usual H.io rules.
7. Enjoy the ball!

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Bored wasn't sufficient. Fatigue, tedium, lethargy, ennui, and other countless words weren't big enough to match the dreadful feeling Viktoriya was currently experiencing, stuck with a foot-sized purple wallflower, that was barely restraining himself from drooling all over her house name. Pathetic, should anyone care enough to ask for her opinion. Yet she had bigger issues here, in the form of the damn ticking clock that categorically refuse to move faster, keeping her permanently glued here, watching the boy's ego growing bigger every second. The only satisfaction she found was to watch his smug expression drop six feet deep with only one of her 'talk to me and your head will be rolling on the floor soon enough' glare. Which still wasn't enough to discourage him, apparently, as a self-confident smirk drew itself on his lips. The half cocky, half deferent attitude of the Barrows boy was unsettling, as Viktoriya was used to be either treated like the eight wonder of the world or something rising barely above a persistent fly in an expensive plate. Both she hated, and both she fought by behaving like the other - provoking sword fights in expensive dresses and acting like royalty before condescending looks were, at least to her, the secret to that sweet release of dopamin. Yet here, this situation was a mix of both, one she didn't quite enjoyed and felt very eager to be freed from. No one to disappoint nor impress, no one to provoke nor degrade. Boring. The sparkle of excitement that lit up in the boy's eyes when her name was confirmed caused her to frown further, going from annoyed to suspicious. Almost jumping in the air like a straight up child, smiling from one ear to the other - a very confusing behavior, one his next question did nothing to explain. "Yes," she replied, eyes narrowing. "That is no secret, and even rather common knowledge." Was he one of those conservative / vampire hunter ideologists ? She knew her kind were not accepted or even recognised as anything other than beasts and monsters in all areas of the planet, yet she never took Hogwarts for the home of such vile thoughts. An ideology she would have the pleasure to fight with the sharp blade of her sword - had she not left it in Russia - or the sting of her canines. Surely Mstislav wouldn't mind a fight if it meant protecting their beliefs. "Why ?" She spat, taking a step closer, hand brushing the hilt of her sadly fake sword. Wood could still hurt, if wielded with the right force. "Does the Barrows have a problem with this fact ?" She spoke his name like a slur, a delighted expression on her face as the familiar rush of adrenaline rose in her system. Yet again, he disappointed her by robbing her of a good fight. "Hmm." She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his statement. And why should I care ? Half goblin, at least that explained his ridiculous height. His poor attempt at sharing some good old race pride was met with a disdainful sniff. See, the thing about Viktoriya wasn't that she believed purebloods, or halfbreeds above the rest of the wizarding society. She simply believed her owns, the Petrovskikh were above it. If her father had often went in full rants about the abomination of magic raised in all-muggle households, or werewolves mating with humans, herself was much more interested in her own history, and how her house had risen despite the heinous comments about their red eyes and blood-drawn tendencies, despite the adversities and treason. If one name were to stand above all, it should be theirs. And not some misplaced race ideology about being born better than others, for you can't take credit for what you didn't bleed for. Rolling her eyes away from him, she frowned as a storm cloud raised above the room. "Now we have a shared opinion," she nodded as she reluctantly followed him to a zone outside of the ambiant chaos. "So," she said, leaning on a nearby wall with crossed arms. "Was there an idea behind this conversation or are you simply here to bore me to death ?"

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It was all awfully fantastical, this dance under fairy-light. Rafal followed Stelle's directions with single-minded concentration, and there was something touching about the steady one-two patterns she made for him to follow, like this was nothing more than a practice lesson and her, the most patient instructor.

They swayed gently to the music, and Rafal did not step on Stelle's toes. Not even once. He could not stop a bashful smile from slowly growing on his face. "You know, you’re really quite good at this whole teaching thing." he whispered softly. "Maybe you should start a club, turn Hogwarts into waltzing grounds. Everyone would want to sign up."

"Veela?" He repeated distractedly. The question had seemingly no basis to it, and he surmized that it must be somewhat of an arbitrary curiosity. Rafal stored this particular query away in the back of his mind, just in case. Pondering how best to answer for a moment, the Slytherin made a mental note to look more into Veela later. Trips to the library were always exciting.

"They are… All right, I suppose." He peered down at Stelle curiously. "In what aspect do you want to know about, exactly?"

Veela… Rafal couldn’t help but feel as if there was something very big there that he ought to be able to figure out, but right now, simply could not piece it all together. Perhaps it was the tranquility of the setting, or the gorgeous girl so close to him Rafal could hardly think straight.

"Oh, I definitely didn’t expect this either." Grinning crookedly, he continued, "My fellow snakes would have me tried if they knew I was entertaining a badger, of all things." He leaned closer to Stelle, tone teasing. "How scandalous of us."

Rafal sighed, feeling almost deliriously happy. This was perfect. Abruptly, he stopped. "Hey, we should get something to drink! I’ll get you something from the table!" Gently extracting himself from Stelle, he ran off to the drinks table at the side of the hall, and quickly poured two cups of punch. Careful not to spill anything, he made his way back to where Stelle stood. He had to weave through a rather considerably lesser number of patrons, and upon looking around, it seemed as if many had emptied out already. Taking a drink from his cup, the first year noted how the general atmosphere was presently far more slow-moving, and nothing much seemed to occur.

Maybe it was time for Rafal to go too. But - his gaze flickered over to the girl next to him. He so wanted to stay with Stelle! "Uh - listen, do you wanna go somewhere else?" He offered hesitantly. "Like… I heard there's a Garden of Eden! We could go there, if you want?"

Action: Taking a drink and inviting Stelle to accompany him elsewhere!

Interacting with @Stelle Mims

Dhampir I
STA: 5 | EVA: 5 | STR: 2 | WIS: 7 | ARC: 3 | ACC: 8

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banner by Prat Pass

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__◇ IC Date: 11 April, 2025

Speech: #1d5758 ◇ __

__◇ Thoughts: Italic	Mentions: @Nyx Blackheart ◇__
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Elisa had to admit, perhaps she had accidentally lost herself in her book for a little too long.

Well, at least now she was all ready and was only a few minutes late to the ball - which didn't even really count as late, right? Changing for the ball had been way quicker than the last - this year, Elisa had opted for a simple, knee length black lace dress, white tights, and those same shiny black shoes she wore to every formal occasion. Her hair, carefully braided into a half up half down style, completed her look for the ball.

Meet by the oak doors... Elisa scanned the thickening crowd of students for her... what did you call that? Date? She grimaced at the word. It sounded bizarre alright, not unlike her encounter with her so-called date.

The Slytherin remembered every second of it clearly, but everything had seemed like a blur back then. A mysterious owl, a suspicious girl, an awkward conversation... And then all that resulted in the two girls agreeing to go to the ball together.

Elisa let out a nervous laugh - if the situation was totally weird, she was also strangely excited and was fidgeting with her hands when she caught sight of that long black hair.

Nyx. She held her breath as her eyes followed the newcomer. Had Nyx seen Elisa?

I stared at the doors before I walked in, feeling both excitement and dread creep into me like my cat does when she is hunting for a mouse. I felt like that mouse right now.
I looked around. There were student milling here and there, some in packs while others were solitary.I snorted. I thought of them like I would think of wild animals. I looked around to see if my date was around. I scrunched up my nose at the word. Date. Ugh. It just sounded so.... Mundane. Where could she be? I glared at anyone else that was around me. Where is a good scare crow when you need it? I snorted again. Why was I thinking such things? I looked around again, impatient. Then I got the feeling that I was being watched, or at least looked at. I turned around, and caught a flash of brown hair. Elisa. I started to go around the students, pushing and occasionally elbowing someone in the ribs. I grinned when I heard a yelp, meaning that my elbow found its target. I pushed again against the throng of student in my way until I found the person that called herself my date."Hello Elisa." I said, smiling when she jumped. I had caught her unawares. I looked at her, at her dress, so similar to my own.

Interacting ! N/A Word Count ! 476 Dialogue ! #0a2457

N/A ! Date TBA ! Outfit Melor Baskakova @Cirrus Nam Ivan Baskakova @Meiyu Xiang! Mentioning

Stamina: 7 ☆ Evasion: 6 ☆ Strength: 3 ☆ Wisdom: 7 ☆ ArcPower: 4 ☆ Accuracy: 8

Action: Lurking in shadows before walking to refreshments table

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╰───► ❛ Art Deco (Allure in Effect). ❜۵
₊⁺⋆ Date: February 12th, 2025| Number of words: 479| Dialogue: #aa5713 ⋆⁺
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She immediately noticed he was a quick learner, and if it really was his first time, he wasn't doing too badly. Dancing together had become much more relaxing than she'd ever thought, and she didn't feel it had to be perfect because it just worked. She allowed herself a moment to simply look at Rafal, her cheeks still slightly flushed from the dancing and the words he'd just said to her.

—You're a fast learner. You're not as bad as I thought—. she joked with a soft smile, which seconds later turned into a laugh. That laugh he spread to her for no reason, even if he wasn't laughing. —Waltz club? That would be strange; I don't trust your vision that much. Remind me not to sit with you when we have divination—.

She remained silent as she listened to his answer, and it seemed just like him. Innocent and sweet. She lowered her gaze slightly, adjusting her words, formulating what exactly she would say. She had to be discreet, but still let Rafal glimpse a bit of the truth. —Well, many are against half-breeds. And I’ve heard all kinds of things about them, I mean, the half-Veela. Some admire them, others detest them, my grandmother says it’s jealousy. That’s why I wanted to know what… what you thought—.

She smiled again at his comment about her home before answering him. —Entertaining me? I thought we were both having fun—. she replied, her tone half joking and half curious. —At least I’m not a lion; I think that would be a problem for you—. And if it makes you feel any better, not enough people know me to know my house.”

Stelle didn’t respond immediately. She continued to sway gently to the music, as if she didn’t want to break the fragile spell of that scene. The fairy light slid down her shoulders and the pale fabric of her dress, giving her an almost unreal air. She barely looked up from the glass in her hand when Rafal returned, with his characteristic overflowing enthusiasm. She watched him, amused, as he tried not to spill the punch on the crowd.

—Thank you—. she said, taking a sip from her glass to avoid any accidents. She looked up curiously at his reply, and the mention of the Garden of Eden quickly reminded her of her friends, who had departed there. She hoped to see them, or at least wave at them from afar. But before accepting his proposal, she decided to play a little joke: —Are you asking me out, just you and me?—. she said in a mock-judgmental tone, with a suspicious look, imitating His grandmother's judging gaze. This only lasted a few seconds, though, before she puffed out her cheeks with a stifled laugh and exploded seconds later. —Okay, let's go—. she finally replied, reaching for him to leave.

ABILITIES: Part-Veela
VISUAL: [url=https:https://i.pinimg.com/736x/e7/9c/ba/e79cba77bf9ecc651042f48dfc4d2cf4.jpg]Here![/url]
ACTIONS: Accept the invitation to go somewhere else.
INTERACTIONS + MENTIONS: @Rafal Devereux + @Ruth Fairchild @Pamela Graham