Exploring New Waters
04/10/25 | autumn ball, Great Lake
The world was empty without Nikolai. Light was of no use without a receptor, and as his sunshine spilt across the world, it only hit empty corners and deserted walls, leaving shadows where he never wished to be any. They found every crevice and slipped into it, but with any brightness came a darkness untold, and a boy could be wreathed in a lot more than just smiles.
Hans had always had a calling towards the water. It had begun with a childhood in the swim team and ended with the endless, freeing waters of the lakes of Durmstrang just after a thick layer of stubborn ice melted, so blisteringly cold it shocked up his very veins. Today, it was the ocean, so vast words could never encompass its beauty and its danger. He had never seen the raging waves of a true sea storm, but having been embraced by its gentle laps he could imagine the opposite of that love incarnate.
From the moonlit grass of the Hogwarts night he stepped onto the passerelle, gentling tracing his fingers along the railing as he followed the crowd onto the main deck. They were an odd collection of people, all in their costumes and their makeup, but rarely did the students receive a chance to escape their stark realities, and in the form of a ball… today it was not inconsiderate for him to attend with pride. It was impossible to harbour bad blood forever.
He was dressed humbly, without any of the ostentatious flash’s he found a distaste to in fashion. No doubt an immature Hans would have played into the theme with a particularly acute gusto and an eyepatch. When matters of fashion arose Hans claimed he had little flair, yet he had never quite settled for the black-tie attire of pureblood high society either. They were not timeless nor versatile; they were dull. Instead, he wore a suit of Aegean blue in Rococo inspired style over a white shirt with bell sleeves. Adorned with his signature of gold, buttons in the colour lined its sides, finishing with a cloak boasting ruffles in the same colour. Two double-clasp lapel chains hung in front of his chest, and the outfit was centred by a star-buckled belt.
His light may spill unquestioned across this land, but he was disallowing any drink from tainting his clothes this ball.
The first direction Hans looked was up, and there he saw the signature of Hogwarts: a scattering of candles floating in the darkness of the chilled night air. Bluebell flames too lit the scene, and each of the round tables, which seemed to be able to host anywhere from two to six, boasted a chandelier.
And then, there it was, the centrepiece of the scene, the shipwreck that they had all been awaiting. Eyes drawn in its by the suggestive lights, Hans found himself face to face with a painting showing a gigantic sea monster. Others followed in a similar style, from a pirate to the openness of the waters’ depths. Fishnets lined the walls, broken railings decorated the halls.
All sound was distant. The entire room seemed to be devoid of noise except for his own self-assured breaths.
It was an unspoken rule that tables were always chosen away from the action, in the depths of the ocean where questionable music tastes were a background noise instead of a pulsating beat. He chose a chair where blue blurred into black, and as he had seen on all the other tables, their laid a note for his reading. He delicately picked up the card on his table, all messy handwriting and intentional disarray, and smirked. Placing the card back down again with a gentle plop, there was not much to do other than watch as he came not with his usual group of laughing, boisterous friends.
In some odd sentiment only Hogwarts could conjure, Hans felt it was all so ridiculously surreal he might as well laugh.
Leaning on the edge of the table with casual command, as dark chocolate eyes scanned the motley collection of shapes and colours, he suddenly understood the meaning of attire. The flows of each gown were meant to accentuate, the ridges of each suit were meant to sculpt; not to bound or corset into a perfect Victorian figure, but to project what was mortal into demigod. It was a game of light shadow play, not all too different from him after all.
There was a reason why Hans fit into the song and dance of pureblood society, and however he would deny, fitting in had never been an attempt. It was what he was destined for, and whether that would be star-cross’d or accepted with open arms was a choice all too fearfully up to his fickle whims. He slipped into their ranks like honey — was there truly anything different in his broad grins and their thin smiles if the point attained was the same? Watching it all he realised, he was a part of them, and they, in return, were a part of him.
Hans did not sit, not out of alertness, nor fear, nor a need for authority, but out of sheer spite. Instead, he stood, and he waited. Not for Astrid, not for Nikolai, not for anyone from Durmstrang. If caught up in the usual wind of his tedious socialisation, he should have pushed himself away from his perch, spread his wings to dance and mingle, and show off those precious peacock feathers. But for once, he ought to let someone else approach him. Perhaps he would never know, in that moment, that someone else entirely would recognise him.
@Reyna Evergreen
banner by Oonagh Brown
banner by Oonagh Brown
Reducio
you will burn and you will burn out; you will be healed and come back again. and i will wait for you.
Archer Duncan | Anthonie Engelbrecht
Archer Duncan | Anthonie Engelbrecht
Exploring New Waters
Oct 4th, 2025
Mentions: @Hans Jenssen-Schäfer
Outfit:
Reducio
Reyna wanted nothing more than to hole up in her room right now. However, her friends and even her family had forced her to come to this ball, even buying her this very expensive, very itchy, very fancy dress. It wasn't like she had anyone to meet anyway. Linda was likely off with her boyfriend, and Reyna hadn't even bothered asking any of her other friends whether they were going.
She remembered last year's Autumn Ball where Maisie had made her the black dress with gold sequins that she still kept in the back of her closet. She would have worn it again had her parents not bought her this bright red dress. She hadn't felt like wearing red, it was too bright for her taste. Old Reyna would have happily pranced around in this dress, delighted that someone bought it for her. Except she was no longer old Reyna and she accepted that.
Reyna had paired her bright red corset dress with a pair of red heels she found in her closet from an earlier ball, and the least extravagant pearl jewelry she could find in her closet.
As Reyna walked, she looked around, looking for anyone familiar. Soft music rang in her ears as she scanned the crowds, attempting to find someone, anyone, she knew. She hadn’t even reached the ball yet and there were already so many crowds.
Every thread of her red dress itched at her skin and she shuddered. What was she doing here? All she could think about was her Grandpa. How he had died. It wasn't fair, no, it wasn't fair. She didn't feel like celebrating, when she was still mourning. She clamped her hands together to keep her from shaking, and the tears from coming. She had to get these thoughts out of her head.
She thought about her parents’ words, her friends’ teasing, the polite insistence that “it’ll be fun, you’ll see”. It'll be fun, right? She tried to convince herself of this, by plastering on a fake smile and attempting to be happy.
She took a few steps towards the people but stopped. The chatter and laughter was overwhelming and her ears were ringing. She kept her chin up anyway, forcing herself to look like she belonged, even if every instinct screamed for her to turn around and run back to her dorm. Step one. Step two. Step three. Once she had built a rhythm of steps, she let herself relax. The clicking of her heels calmed her down just enough, to finally make it to the ball.
She stopped for a moment to admire the beauty. The Great Lake had been transformed into a ship on the water. With its tall masts reaching into the sky, the magnificent ship that was half legend and half ghost was bathing in the moon's still glow. Gleaming in the moonlight, the ship looked regal as it rose from the dark waters of the Hogwarts Great Lake. The ball planners had really outdone themself this year.
She made her way through the crowd, weaving her way through until she finally reached the entrance. She was intrigued, she had to say, what the boat would like on it. She really should have brought her camera.
Reyna took a deep breath and entered the ball. As she reached the deck, her breath caught once again. Maybe it had been worth it come here, just to see this sight.
Floating candles sparkled in the air, casting a golden glow on the dark water reflecting below. In glass jars, flames that looked of bluebells flickered, illuminating every nook and cranny of the ship, casting white and sapphire shadows. A rusty chandelier hung lopsided over each table, casting shadows across faces and dresses. Broken railings, knots of fishnets, pieces of hull, plating and ropes formed an area that could resemble treasure, giving the impression that of a wrecked ship that had suddenly come back to life and appeared around her.
The leaned walls revealed images of a kraken watchfully eyeing fire, sailors appearing to be sucked underneath the waves, and a one-eyed captain sailing through, carefully overseeing a storm. Reyna shivered. The art looked beautiful, no doubt, but it felt alive to her like the waves could come shooting out of the paint at any moment.
Somewhere in the distance, an antique record player sputtered and then jumped into life which began playing a waltzing tune that was too slow to be pleasant and too sweet to be sad. The air hummed. Again and again, in between the notes of music, she almost heard the sound of waves lapping up against the hull. The lake was still though.
The tables were already set and the silver cutlery gleamed beside the vintage plates, and pearl beads rolled across the floor. The smell of sea salt with the faint aroma of oysters and caviar filled her nose.
As she stepped into the ship she took the card from the sailor.
The paper smelled faintly of lemons and old parchment, and the handwriting scrawled across it was jagged, wild.Some of the words had faded entirely, as if they’d been dipped in saltwater and left to dry. It made her smile. A real genuine smile. As she soaked up the beauty she looked around, at the people laughing, cheering and dancing and she bit her lip wistfully.“Aye, fine souls! It be me greatest honor to welcome ye aboard the one and only Lost Pearl! Feared by many, cursed by more, I ruled these uncharted seas with an iron hook… But even kings of the tides meet their doom. Avast, matey, for the sea hides more than she shows. Fair wind!”
And then she saw him.
Hans.
He was standing near a table away from the crowd, almost as if he was looking for someone, or something. She hadn’t forgotten about their encounter at the funeral. He had helped her. He had been the friend she never knew that she needed.
And suddenly she felt as if maybe today wasn’t going to be so bad. She wanted to talk to him, but she wasn’t sure what to say. Was a hey sufficient?
She found herself wandering towards his table. When she reached the table, she placed both her palms on it, tilted her head and said, “Looking for someone?”
Exploring New Waters
04/10/25 | autumn ball, Great Lake
“Looking for someone?” Came a voice, not quite familiar, not quite foreign.
“Hm?” Hans hummed in an instinctive reply. He had been caught off guard, thinking of people very close to his heart, yet very far in vicinity.
He shifted his body slowly, purposefully, to find a figure in burgundy. She was crowned in silver tiara that failed to eclipse the dark golden locks of her hair, with a matching necklace at her collarbones and earrings on her lobes that failed to outshine her hazel eyes. If anyone else was approached by an objectively attractive girl, they would fawn over her. Not Hans; he would not give such a power to someone else. She looked like yet another pearl in an ocean of clams, so dazzling under the lights that she didn’t even stand out anymore, just a flick of brightness in the rays of the sun. He did not know her, he did not care to know her, she was no different from the abundance of attendees he could charm.
His days of casual interactions were gone, replaced by a company far more selected. When before he would seemingly scan across a room until he landed on someone with absolute arbitrariness, the epitome of amiability to its maximum, where socialisation was as easy — and as quintessential — as breath; today he was not so haphazard in his choices, and rather than pure entertainment, he chose each acquaintance with a dainty attitude, a network of the people who could most benefit him, whether if they brought him great joy, or steps forward in society. He could no longer be so indifferent towards the type of people he surrounded himself with. A girl who looked as if she was about to flirt with him was not one of the people on that list.
The assumption of her foreignness dropped as his eyes narrowed softly and recognition clicked. Her palms on the table, head tilted, their eyes met and all of the sudden, Hans placed where he had seen her. A funeral. Over the summer. More specifically, the funeral of John Kim, a man he did not know. It had never been about the man though, but his granddaughter, the same granddaughter who had delivered the eulogy that had seemed so striking only months before. The same granddaughter that had made him realise he could lose Otto just as easily as she did John. The same granddaughter he had comforted when she was at the troughs of her being. He had almost forgotten. How could he?
Reyna Evergreen. That was her name. And here was she, standing directly before him.
Slowly, a smile graced Hans’ lips. One that was perfectly kind, perfectly expectant, with a slight touch of surprise. His eyes sparkled in the light, chocolate reflecting like diamonds into Reyna’s flecks of gold. Leaning against the table he studied her for a few moments, hands absentmindedly tracing shapes on the wood behind him. Finally, he smirked, shook his head lightly, and uttered a sole word, “Maybe.”
@Reyna Evergreen
banner by Oonagh Brown
banner by Oonagh Brown
Reducio
you will burn and you will burn out; you will be healed and come back again. and i will wait for you.
Archer Duncan | Anthonie Engelbrecht
Archer Duncan | Anthonie Engelbrecht
Exploring New Waters
Oct 4th, 2025
Mentions: @Hans Jenssen-Schäfer
Outfit:
Reducio
Somehow in this ball full of strangers, Reyna felt good, for the first time. The air was heavy with a strange mix of sea salt, and decaying wood. Reyna stood before Hans, finally relaxed now that she wasn’t surrounded in crowds of people. The bright red corset dress, still itched against her skin, but the deep discomfort she felt while here, while she was still mourning for her grandpa, had dropped just a little bit.
Hans had offered only a single, whispered word, “Maybe,” and then retreated into silence. Reyna did not ask him to say more. Instead she felt a small, knowing smile tug at the corners of her lips. She didn't mind the mystery. In fact, she found herself actually liking it. The moment felt like a weirdly mirrored version of their first meeting back in July. At the funeral, she had been the one with the short replies, the one a bit shocked that Hans had come up to her, unable to find the right words while the world moved on around her. And now she was the one approaching Hans, something he clearly had not expected. The roles were reversed.
“Hmmm,” she said in response, her voice sounding a little shaky even to her own ears. She hoped the soft background music of the record player would mask that sound. She didn’t want anyone to know she was nervous. She pushed off the table slightly to straighten her posture, attempting to make herself feel confident, despite the red heels that while it made her tall, made her feel a bit like she was walking on stilts.
She wanted to bridge the gap between the funeral and this party, but without all the sadness and tears. More… fun. Except she wasn’t sure she could call it fun, quite yet, because she had not had any fun.
She fixed the simple pearl necklace around her neck as she looked at him. “I think I owe you a ‘thank you’ that wasn’t coated in tears and snot,” she said softly.
It was a small attempt at a joke. She needed him to see that she wasn't the broken girl he had comforted, even though she still felt that way. However she longed to be the girl who could wear a bright red dress and attempt to belong in a room full of laughter, rhe type of girls she was constantly surrounded be now.
Finally she let her gaze wander over the incredible decorations that the ball planners had clearly spent weeks perfecting. Floating candles that sparkled in the air and in glass jars, flames that looked like bluebells that illuminating every corner of the ship. She couldn’t get over how magical it felt. Breathtaking.
“This ball is incredible, isn’t it?” she said. For a moment, the quiet space around her made the overwhelming noise of the crowd outside disappear, and the ringing in her ears finally started to fade.
She felt a sudden, rising excitement that was entirely unfamiliar. It wasn't the fear she had felt earlier, but a focus. It was the first relief she had found ever since she had stepped into the ball, the most calm she had ever felt. She felt free.
It was strange. Why did it happen here of all places? There was something about Hans. He wasn't like her friends or her parents; he didn't pity her. He just saw her. Maybe that’s what caused her to feel free.
“So, you’re here alone?” she asked, gesturing towards the other people in the room, dancing and talking. Reyna stopped herself. She wasn’t even sure what she was saying anymore. She just prayed for that feeling, the freeing feeling again.
So she rubbed her head, and simply waited. The conversation was no longer hers to carry. She had walked across the deck, survived the sensory overload of the party, and stood her ground in a dress she hated just to find this moment, this beautiful freeing moment. Some might call her insane, but that was what happened when you couldn’t quite recover from mourning. Her whole life had been turned upside down and she had almost been waiting for the one moment when she could maybe finally start seeing her path to recovery. And Reyna might have found it. She was ready to play this game. She was ready to love her grandpa, miss her grandpa, while still being okay. And now the game had officially started. It was time for her to play.
Exploring New Waters
Gregariousness was out, elusiveness was in. The sunshine personality skunk back into the shadows as a veil of dusk fluttered to the surface. His smile exiled the boisterous grins and in return took on an edge of perfect mystery, the one hang fire case every infatuated detective would have killed for to get her hands on. He turned a step away from her, eyes scanning the room as then came a unconcerned wave of the hand at Reyna’s own lack of words. As a shadow passed over his face, each feature composed to the last detail, his eyes seemed to sparkle ever so brightly in defiant contrast, as if they were the only thing holding him together.
He was playing hard to get, but it would only be a matter of time before he caved.
Reyna’s voice still carried an edge of shakiness, as if she had not quite gotten over the events of the funeral.
Of course she had not, Hans chided himself. The word funeral should have been enough of a signal.
He paused, hand held delicately as his fingers curled in gentle interest. The beats of the gramophone were not quite enough to mask her soft hum’s ill ease, yet with it they seemed to have carried a different melody. Not a broken one — no, the record it played was just right — but a human one. With its imperfections, and with its pains. Nerves were only to be expected at a ball, suffering was only inevitable after the passing of a loved one. Reyna was the Atlas holding a world under cracking shoulders.
And still.
She managed to look regal.
Hans may not have reciprocated her emotions… not yet… but admiration crept up into his words with every second of her company. Admiration was enough, admiration would fuel stronger sentiments, and admiration would turn this night into something he had not quite expected.
Hans saw qualities like glimmering gold among dust. Reyna was the mistress of a beauty that extended beyond her appearance. He would have been a liar to say conventional attractiveness did not sway a teenage boy’s heart, yet her locks of cascading golden and shining hazel eyes were only the tip of an iceberg that burned through with inner fire.
“I think I owe you a ‘thank you’ that wasn’t coated in tears and snot,” she said softly.
Hans only nodded, not quite uttering any words in response. The nod might have been just enough. The attempt at a joke was an admittedly feeble one, yet there was strength in summoning one at all. He did not laugh, only allowed the side of his lips to tip up ever so slightly.
He had never seen her as just grieving girl, but every step of the way, she was proving to her that she was far from it. She was also a girl who wore bright red dresses and high heels with immaculate make up. She straightened. Hans found no need to do the same, only the slight rise of a brow. Not a presentation of challenge, but interest, curiosity. There was always a next step coming, and he had to make suer he was leading the dance.
The dance.
Holy hell. The thought struck him like lightning.
Pushing himself off the table side he said with a knowing grin, “You don’t owe me anything… except for maybe a dance, Reyna.” He winked at her playfully. He knew her game, and he was playing right into it. If feelings sprung up, he would give her what she wanted.
Hans’ emotions were muddled. This was different from what he felt for Astrid, maybe because, for once, he was in control. Women were such fickle creatures, but… just perhaps, he was beginning to understand them.
Hans took a few steps forward so that they were but a hand’s reach away, and extending his arm, unfurled his fingers. Holding his other arm to his chest, hand to his heart, he bowed with ostentatious extravagance as a small smile graced his lips. If Reyna were to accept by delicately placing her hand in his, Hans’ fingers would slowly, gently, curl around hers and pull her just a step closer to him. Offering her a rascal’s grin as if he knew a secret she could not quite crack, he would lead her to the edge of the dance floor, where they bled seamlessly into the whirls and twirls of the couples around them. Gesturing at the open canvas of possibility in front of them Hans indicated for Reyna to step on before him.
“Are you acquainted with the most delicate art form of the waltz?”
@Reyna Evergreen | Banner by Oonagh Brown
you will burn and you will burn out; you will be healed and come back again. and i will wait for you.
Archer Duncan | Anthonie Engelbrecht
Archer Duncan | Anthonie Engelbrecht
Exploring New Waters
Oct 4th, 2025Mentions: @Hans Jenssen-Schäfer
Outfit:Reducio
Hans caught her by surprise, something she hadn’t thought to be possible. It took a moment for his words, for his actions to settle in. He had asked her to dance. Well in his words, she owed him a dance. Those words, that thought was not something she ever nor even thought for a second. Hans winked and something in her stomach fluttered. It was strange, utterly abnormal, and threw her way off guard. But she pushed it away. Whatever this was, whatever she was feeling, she hadn’t felt it since the beginning of her second year with Botan. Botan who no longer existed in her life anymore. Whatever this was, it had to go.
Her heart rate was quickening and so she took a deep breath to steady it. Hans had presented her with an invitation to dance, but to her it looked more like a challenge. And Reyna was not one to back down from challenge. She might not have considered dancing at tonight’s ball, but she surely would not refuse an offer. Hans was playing into her game, except he had just turned the tables. Reyna needed to find her footing to make her next move.
“Are you acquainted with the most delicate art form of the waltz?” Hans said.
The absolutely and incredibly showy bow that preceded the question forced a laugh out of her. It wasn’t the fake laugh, that she gave to some of her other friends when they told a joke, or a forced one to show that she was fine. It was a real, genuine laugh. She hadn’t laughed like that in months. The entire situation felt utterly and completely unreal. She felt changed. She felt good. She felt free. And it was all because of Hans.
There was something about him, this same recurring feeling of comfort, like he understood in his own messed up way who Reyna was.
She was mourning. But that wasn’t all. No. There was something much more to her, and he saw that, he understood that. Never before did she feel that seen. Reyna was not pitied, she was recognized.
She gave him a small knowing smile and before that feeling went away, she placed her hand in his and his fingers curled around hers. He led her towards the others twirling and dancing around in their fashionable suits and gowns.
And there Reyna found her footing, she found her words.
"I suppose if I owe you a dance, then a dance you shall get," she whispered, her voice regaining her composure and losing its nervousness. As they reached the edge of the dance floor, she turned to face him fully, her hazel eyes locking onto his with a flash fire. "But be careful. If you’re going to lead, you’ll have to keep up with me." After all, she was a good dancer, a very good dancer in fact. Her mother had made sure of that from a young age, that any ball or gala that she went too, she would never fall behind.
Still, she let him take the first move, let him lead her into the dance. But she was ready, and while her heart was still fluttering, she let herself relax. Reyna was here to have fun, to let go of all of her worries, but also to play the game. And that meant accepting Hans’ challenge, but then also initiating her own.
A smile formed on her face. Maybe, possibly there was a way to pull herself out of the deep end. Not to stop mourning, but to stop letting it affect her every moment of her life. And that required exploring new waters.