The Masquerade Ball Event Closed

Interacting with: @Jake Morris
Mentions: @Jake Morris

She didn't have great experiences with Hogwarts dances. There really was no reason that she should attend.

Still, she wanted to see her younger sister participate in her first masquerade ball, mainly because she wanted to ensure that nothing bad would happen to her. Mari knew the horrors that were any social event at Hogwarts, and though she had many enemies at the moment, her loyalty would never waver when it came to her family.

Mari hadn't really planned to dress up, for she wasn't going for the sake of the dance; she was going for the sake of parenting her younger sister. She emerged from the Hufflepuff common room, wearing the blood-stained robes she still hadn't washed from last year, cardboard prefect's badge affixed to her chest. It was as she was about to step into the great unknown, beyond the Hufflepuff common room, that a flicker of orange caught her eye. Was that Jake, the boy she had helped not so long ago, the boy that she strove to win, in order to make him do her dirty work (though she was the dirty one)? Was he dressed as...a pumpkin? Mari had chosen not to go to theme, but this small child truly was...an idiot.

But now, Mari wondered if she could capitalize on this idiocy in order to truly win him over. She hadn't been successful, yet, but with the recent breakup of her other lover, and the fact that she had yet to see Pressy again, she was a bit desperate to acquire another minion to do her bidding. And luckily....luckily she had an old pumpkin outfit stored right in her trunk, from her childhood. How...convenient.

So she changed. She was now a pumpkin herself, designed to match the boy she wanted to win. And now, the masquerade ball had a deeper purpose, a deeper meaning than just monitoring her little sister like she was a chaperone at a Catholic middle school dance, demanding that the children "save room for Jesus."

But this was not a Catholic middle school dance, for no self-respecting religious school would allow that to be the music for a sweaty gym filled with prepubescent teens who lacked deodorant. The music did not distract her, however as she had found her target: Jake.

She salaciously sent a wink his way, licking her lips as seductively as a 12-year-old dressed in a pumpkin costume could while she did so. If she could meet his eyes, Mari knew that she would finally achieve her mission.

Interacting with @Illowy Magnard

Mentions @Kaegen Deathmote

Chris noticed her gaze fall to the side after saying he didn't go to the ball, as if in disappointment "Count yourself among the lucky." she said to him softly. The event seemed to have a rough patch on her, a mental scar which wouldn't go away. It was probably best to keep the last ball on the low for now, not until another time at least. His icy blue eyes looked at her once again, gazing at the pale stare that looked at him, that's when he realised something. He recognised that gaze... it was one that a person wouldn't forget for a while, something that would stick in your mind. It had to be her, the Slytherin girl who she met at the lake, everything from the accent matched up...

"Clever lad." she chuckled, "You found me out faster then I was able to figure it was you." in reply to his inquiry, a sigh of relief coming from the boy as he smiled gladly to her "Well then, since there's no rushing to class now, perhaps a proper introduction is in order? Especially since I have spent quite some time now trying to figure out who you even are" Chris nodded slowly and straightened himself out, before extending a hand to accept the hand shake "Christopher Madson, second year. It's a pleasure to finally introduce myself" he said with a courteous nod and smile, knowing full well that he should of done at the lake when he had the chance "I'm glad to see you again Illowy, we should get together and play some music sometime " the boy wondered, it was kinda rare to find someone who shared the same music interests as him, especially in a house such as Slythrerin.

Suddenly, something from the other end of the room caught his eye. The thing stuck out like a sore thumb, a thing that looked sinister in its own right. It certainly wasn't pumpkin boy, but a living figure that looked half dead. He wasn't wearing anything but his faded black robes, the fact that he looked on the verge of death provided the reason why he didn't need a costume. The lad appeared to be running from something, but how could a kid his size and stature cause enough trouble for someone to go after him like that "Who's that messy lad in a rush, do you know his name? he said to Illowy with a motion of his head, looking towards the kid who had almost vanished in the dense crowd.

@Jake Morris & @Mari Haynes

Americans had been milling about the school for just two weeks now, but still the whole thing had lost all the novelty it once had. George was downright sick of them. It seemed like everywhere he looked, they were there, ruining his first month in the magical world with their strange clothes and drawling accents. But they did bring something worth more than their wild west style to the table - and that was the Masquerade Ball.

It made him a bit stomach sick to think of it, really. All of the Americans were richer than him. There was no mask that could hide the difference between a pure blood wizard with a budget and a dirty low-down no-maj clad in hand-me-downs. (That's what they call muggles.) He'd just changed his mind and decided to go about two hours before the event. He'd seen his bunk buddy dressing up earlier, apparently under the impression that the dress code was closer to Halloween costume than school formal. George had encouraged the idea, of course - at the least, it meant that he'd no longer be the most embarrassed one at the event. All in all, it was a bold fashion statement as well. There was no downside to sending him off dressed that way.

But that still left George without an outfit of his own. He sought to remedy the problem without a moment of thought. No expense was spared in the selection of his ensemble. The thing about that was that he didn't have any money.

He hopped in on one clumsy foot, his high-pulled woolen socks stuffed inside the cheap leather of decades-old leather boots. Swishing among the skirts of the finely dressed young ladies of Ilvermorny was the bold red tartan of George's kilt, swaying just below his knees. It had been his brother's, and his brother had been bigger than him at this age. His mother had bought it new for him. She was Scottish, and had wanted to bring the boys into the culture. The first time she tried to make him wear it, he said that he'd be less embarrassed if she sent him out wearing a burlap sack.

George had stolen his mask from one of the kitchen elves. Frayed threads of burlap blocked his vision, the sack pulled tight over the boy's face. It still smelled like potatoes in here. He carefully pinched and pulled away those loose ends, only to find that two more sprung up with each he removed. But even between all of that, he could still see his friend - the big orange eyesore - out on the floor, and he blindly waded toward him. Despite George not being in costume, he still managed to look absolutely ghastly.

"I'm starting to think I may be making a fool of myself," he muttered, chasing after the pumpkin boy with a brisk step. He made sure to stomp his boots loud so the other boy would hear him and stop, but his whisper went unheeded. Once he pulled back the burlap hanging over his eyes, it became clear why. There was... a second pumpkin? Two unique individuals both decided, of their own accord, to dress as pumpkins. There was a strange flurry of confusion and relief as the fate conspired to ensure he would not be the laughing stock of this party. This wasn't Jake at all! This was some girl!

"Hey, what the heck? You stole Jake's costume!" George craned his neck, his head on a swivel as he hunted for the second gourd that was prancing around the ballroom. He spoke boldly for a man dressed in a kilt and burlap mask. Particularly boldly when the lack of a mouth hole was considered. He looked like leatherface going at a ceilidh. "That's not fair, how are either of you going to impress the Ilvermoney kids?"

interacts with: @Aurelia Notrésvace @Olphie Bercegeay @Piérre Marchonné
Kaegen was crazy. There was no way around it, no way to lessen the truth of that statement. He was mentally off, he had lost no less than half his marbles and the belfry he possessed was absolutely swarming with bats. But oh, what a belfry it was. The half a handful of marbles he still held on to were gleaming, perfect little spheres. Kaegen may not have had sanity, but he had a level of intelligence that had launched him clear of most situations. For example, he was prepared.

Pressure, flammable gas, a breakable container, some shards, clay and a lot of time. The little boy had started out with three explosive teapots. Now, he was down to one. But he was going to make it count. The shrapnel would rip and rend through anyone standing nearby, and then he would flee, he would run towards the door, and then launch himself over the crowd and through the agape doorway with a well angled fleependo. Easy, not a problem. It would hurt but it would work.

He stopped at the dancefloor, and turned to glare at the oncoming prefect. The little red rings around his pupils practically blazing with light. Done, he was done with the nonsense. Done with her, done with all of this. He had slipped his hand into his sleeve earlier with a purpose, after all. He was ready. Throw the pot, cast incendio, and laugh, laugh as the little, pathetic, annoyingly entitled prefect in the mask felt the cold burning grasp of exsanguination. But then things started to turn very, very south.

A giant, pink bird monster who's feet kept slapping the ground was rushing towards them, ordering them to hold on and explain what was happening. Kaegen almost threw the bomb then and there, until he fully grasped her size. That was a professor. It talked like a professor, walked like a professor, had the bizarre clothing choices of a professor. The flying one, the one with the face. The burning light in his eyes faded briefly. Would his bomb kill a professor? Was it strong enough? As the prefect closed in more, yet another face approached, this time from the side. A bizarre jester in a suit. It looked ugly and weird, but not especially different from any other of the horrible costumes at this place.

A party? Who was there to have fun, who would have fun at a place like this? Dhampirs were usually violent, often unpredictable, and always dangerous. But Kaegen's fractured mind rose above and beyond the pitiful paranoid hunger provided by the vampiric blood. No, Kaegen was a monster all unto himself, he was a monster of a human, and a monster of a vampire. The little boy had spilled more blood in the few years he had spent in Hogwarts than most grown men do in a lifetime. He was a creature, and he was cornered.

"Do not pretend that you can walk this path, prefect. There are dangerous things under the rocks you live on, things you should leave in peace. But to deny a stray dog a bone for the sake of pride is the way of dogs and men. I'm sorry you were weak, I am sorry you failed. I am sorry that you fell so soon. I am sorry you feel the need to throw a tantrum for a meaningless apology and I am sorry for hurting you that day."

She was trying to be a hero, trying to get that apology. Maybe he could defuse the situation before the professor came, maybe he could escape before anything else happened. He was so close, so close to winning, so close to leaving. If the bomb went off now, the professor would still be fine, and it would be his own head on a stake. Anger was prominent, the hunger was consuming. But his fear? His paranoia? It set him apart from the rest, his fear was ingrained into his bones, and he was afraid of the professor. If the prefect would accept his admittedly horrendous apology, maybe she would stop chasing him, and the professor would kill or eat her instead of him. His head turned slightly to the jester as he began to back away

"Not for me."

Fun could wait. He was being hunted. He was beginning to panic, or maybe he had been panicking the entire time, he couldn't tell. Shadows beneath his feet were beginning to thicken more noticeably, tendrils along the outer edge were beginning to snake out, to move. His eyes still burned like fire, and the air temperature began to steadily drop. He was sick of this, of her, of the professor coming and of people in general. He had come for food, had been confronted and had things demanded of him. It was going to end in the next five minutes, in blood or peace, he didn't care which.

He could turn and run, but he'd have to force his way through the crowd. The professor would catch up. He was trapped by a wall of people on all sides, a wall of people that would slow him to the point of destruction. The professor had him trapped, and he knew it. He had to de-escalate and find a good excuse. One clawed hand grabbed the joker's tie, tugging the boy's head just a little down, as Kaegen leaned in with eyes that positively shone with tangible light.

"help"

It was a quiet hiss, quiet enough to not be heard by anyone else. Kaegen hated asking for help, he hated having to depend on anyone else, but there was no other option. He couldn't kill a professor, there was no way in hell his bomb would do anything against a monster that big or pink. He had lost, and now had to depend on charisma, a feature he decidedly lacked. But maybe this jester, maybe his very, very last resort would somehow pull through.

A desperate gamble, a despairing clawing at a way out. A hatred burning cold as ice.

@Maggie Parker

Dale looked around him, Lark had gone away to get a drink, and he was left with someone he didn’t know and the person who had set him on fire… not his ideal night. He looked around the ballroom, trying to find an excuse to leave the awkward situation, the ballroom was really packed at this point, if any more people came in it would be way too full, some weird things were going on, now there were 2 people dressed as pumpkins, he also spotted a familiar face… Kaegen the weird guy from the bathrooms, it appeared that someone was… chasing him, whatever it was Dale did not really wanna get involved in it.

"You still up for that dance? It'll be quick- I don't want to keep my OTP apart for too long."

Maggie Parker, Dale yelled out a victory cry in his head, a reason to leave had presented its self. Dale had owled Maggie asking her to teach him to dance if he was gonna dance with Lark he wanted to make sure he didn’t accidentally crush her feet or trip over her. Although he had no idea what she meant by OTP… he assumed it was some sort slang he didn’t understand. Nevertheless, he took Maggies hand and walked her over to the dance floor.

“Thanks for saving me back there, you really looked a true angel at that moment.” Dale said jokingly, “I hope y-you know your gonna have to teach me how to dance...” “Also… uhh, what's an OTP?"

Interacting with @Santario Martin Mentions: @Catriona Staverly

Kyle let out an audible Sigh at Santario's last comment towards the smaller girl as she went to leave. After coming to the understanding that the events at the lake weren't actually caused by anyone and was mostly both of them being awful in social situations he hadn't put much thought into any negativity towards the Ravenclaw. After all, there was nothing to blame on her. He was just dumb, and that is his fault more than anyone else's. Or perhaps the bludgers were to blame? that was neither here nor there.

Then San began to move, guiding him towards the doors. Her: gently touching people and using manners to move by. Him: using his shoulder as a way to push people out of the way and offering the occasional scowl to anyone who tries to keep him from pushing his way past.

Finally there were out of the ballroom and they moved slightly down the hall away from the doors and he could breath! Sweet lord above he could breath. The calming scent of Vanilla and Almonds met his nose and he breathed a slight sigh of relief as he took another sip of the everything drink, still blown away at how this strange looking liquid that clearly wasn't carbonated tasted exactly like an Irish Rose.



Kyle cocked an eyebrow. Did he? were his eyes really That expressive? Kyle offered a slight shrug and scratched the back of his neck. He knew what the issue was but he couldn't really tell Her what it was. How do you casually mention having super human powers of smell and not expect follow up questions? "Uh, just a uh. Headache. I've been getting them sometimes...since the uh. well you know the bludger thing. to the head. head ache. Its nothing" he looked away and took another sip.

Open to Further interactions

Interations: @Christopher Madson
Meantions: @Kaegen Deathmote(and all involved), @Mari Haynes

He seemed relived when she confirmed her identity for him, which gave her hope that for once in her life she didn't leave the worst first impression on him before. Even better was his offer to get together to play violin together, and the girl felt herself light up. Of course, personally, she was very protective of her music, her family really only ever being the ones she allowed to listen to her play or watch her dance; but perhaps it was the kindred idea of playing with someone else who understood her in that sense that made it feel safe, "I'd love that." she agreed.

Her own eyes had begun to wander as his did, though her went the opposite way to Mari Haynes. By this point, she'd decided the Hufflepuff was to be her lifelong enemy, and trusted the girl about as far as she could throw her. True to form, of course the girl was dressed in a ridiculous pumpkin costume. Clearly the poor lad also clad in such a getup wasn't the only person who didn't get the memo about correct attire.

Christopher's voice brought her back though, as he asked about the strange boy. Turning away from her fellow snake, she followed his gaze, shifting a bit on her feet as she sat her drink back down on the table, "That's Keagan Deathmote. He's a third year, and he's the boy that blew up the bathroom last year." she explained, not taking her eyes off the boy. She'd been curious about him ever since that incident last year, "He's not quite the full shilling, if you get what I mean."

Certainly, she didn't trust the boy's sanity. After all, he blew up a bathroom for Merlin's sake... but that seemed to only make him more a of curiosity to her. Illowy watched the boy intently, seeing how distressed and upset he seemed to be as a Prefect and Professor approached. The boy made a sudden move to another near him, making nearly making Illowy flinch. Casually, the girl tucked a gloved hand into the folds of her dress, a pocket hidden away in the yards of fabric, and wrapping thin fingers around her wand. Ever since she first got her wand, Illowy's mother had been keen on her always having a pocket somewhere for her wand to be kept, even if that meant sewing one in herself.

The girl shifted herself again, almost as though making sure she kept herself between the scene of the distressed Ravenclaw and Christopher. Even if she had no reason beyond being housemates to justify such a loyal action, she'd protected other strangers for less, and from much more sinister creatures then a half mad student. She felt more secure, however, knowing there were more professors here then at the last party; trusting them to keep control of the situation.

However she'd be damned if she stood by and let watched this party go up in flames as well.

This is a dubble post for Elzabeth Gilian and Hunter Reys.

@Lark Flaer @James McMurtrie @Gem Stuart @Catriona Staverly

RPing as Elzabeth Gillian

Elzabeth could tell something was up with her friend, which was why when Lark had suggested getting some drinks Elzabeth didn't fuss.

Once they were far enough away from the group, Elzabeth spoke up. "Is everything alright?" Elzabeth folded her hands at her stomach, feeling more graceful in this dress than she usually did in her robes.

Elzabeth knew the answer just by the way Lark was acting. "Do we need to find a quiet space to talk?" Elzabeth was ready to go to the girl's bathroom to consol her friend if need be, the last thing she wanted was Lark to be unhappy on such a special night.

They stopped at a table full of snacks, oddly enough Elzabeth wasn't hungry even though she hadn't really had dinner but she was sure she would be gorging on some of this later.

She wanted to ask Lark more questions, but she knew she should give her time to answer the ones she had already put out there, it was best if she didn't overwhelm her friend.

Rping as Hunter Reys:

"I'm positive that I'm the lucky one tonight."

He gave her his signature smirk, running his thumb over her knuckles. Just then a slower song started to play, the classic-sounding string instruments reverberating over the ballroom.

He looked towards the dance floor, watching as some people filtered over. "Do you know how to dance?" Hunter asked, giving her a slightly nervous look. The last time he had slow danced was at a party Ilvermorny had put together, even then he wasn't that good.

If worse came to worse they could just sway to the music, it already looked like a few people had resorted to that. Hunter gave her hand a gentle tug, leading her towards the dance floor.

"You wanna give it a shot? If you don't like my amazing moves then we don't have to do it again." Hunter teased. He wasn't entirely sure if Vi liked dancing but he at least wanted one dance with her tonight.

Interacting with: @Charlotte Marie Mahr

James drew his face towards the girl, and lifted a hand to lightly tuck her short black hair behind one of her ears. He kept his fingers lightly touching the side of her face, feeling her smooth skin, and kissed her lightly on the lips. He'd never kissed anybody before and so the anxiety of the situation began to take over. He was unsure if he was supposed to close his eyes, whether or not he was using too much teeth. But her lips felt much softer than he'd expected them to, it was nothing like he'd ever experienced before. He may have been at a school for wizards but this was real magic.

"You know, you can always talk to me if you need to, Charlotte. If y'know... you're going through something and you need to vent or whatever... or even if you need to piss around and goof off, I'll be there. I've- uh really missed you over the past couple of days... I hope you're ok is all." he smiled, not the big cheeky grin he usually flashed, but a small, sad, deep smile that was filled with more sincerity.

He gently let his hands slide down her upper arms and rested them on her hips.

"Now, are you going to teach me to dance or what?"

She narrowed her eyes at him because of the way he looked away from her made her think he was being somewhat untruthful. Though she had to admit everyone overpowering cologne and perfume was a bit much especially when paired with the choice in music. She would let this slide because she couldn’t be completely certain that he was, in fact, lying to her or not. Kyle at times was not nearly as easy to read as other people were. She had to be patient with him and take her time like he was a delicate book in which she must only turn one page at a time with a gentle touch.

“Maybe you should get that checked out by the nurse tomorrow. It really isn’t normal to still be having headaches like this if everything healed correctly.” She was concerned and it showed in her eyes and her voice. She would take a step forward and place her hand on his arm. “Please tell me you will at least consider it?” It was a simple enough request and regardless she was going to owl her mother and ask her what she thought about the situation and if there was anything San could do to help her friend get rid of the headaches without using magic.

She also decided at this point it was time for a subject change because she knew if she pushed too hard on the subject, he would get touchy about it and push back. She didn’t want to ruin the night before it had even begun. She still hadn’t even given him his birthday gift, but she wasn’t sure if it would be given to him tonight or tomorrow. She had it on standby hiding in a classroom in case they decided to skip the dance at some point and if they didn’t, she would gather it back up on her way back to her common room and give it to him another time. “Isn’t this drink amazing? Normally I would not be okay with the taste of Cocoa with cinnamon and a cold temperature but something in the magic of this drink make sit ok. I really want to learn how to make this because I feel like it has to be along with the same composition of potions…” She stopped herself trying not to nerd out about potions on him, again.