April Fools' Pool Party Open Closed

Also mentioning @Jack Warren

Mentioning: @Jack Burnett, @Ruka Tân, @Willow Anderson

Eccentric people, such as the socialites that ran rampant at this event like it was a ritualistic gathering for their breed of human, were thoroughly abstruse. Their validation, it seemed to an outsider’s eye, originated in its purest from the attention of the majority, positive attention nonetheless. Jokes, splashing, this occult jump that was clearly intended to bring harm to bystanders called a cannonball. Years of thought could be devoted to attempting to solve such an intricate puzzle and nothing would turn over, a paradoxical concept that had no true beginning and ending. Persephone wasn’t opposed to being the center of attention; who would be? The difference was the motivation beneath it, the bizarreness of those who talked to people simply to speak with them, no ulterior motives floating under the surface just beyond visibility. That posed the further question: why would they speak to someone without valid rationale? And that posed the problem: there was no rhyme or reason. Conclusions would go around in circles for centuries until someone found the anomaly.

Knowing no sensible deduction would arise from the ashes, Persephone still pondered this while observing all the flies mingle about, like there were corpses nearby to feed upon. Interacting with one another, a chorus of that luring siren’s song, joy that would never spread to its killer. Chasing serotonin in a sense that didn’t involve introducing anarchy where none lived was a race unwinnable. Like pursuing the moon just to touch its surface, childish dreams that the adults knew held no meaning in the real world. Oftentimes, the blonde was sure it was only her swimming in this branch of reality, its rawest form. The only one not following after the unreachable or wishing upon an apathetic universe.

Her pale fingers waved through the pool still, comforting and reminiscent in the way everything would be in an ideal world. The entertainment quality of the water had evaporated for some, shadows of disinterest covering the light in their eyes that once shined intensely, something extremely incomparable to Persephone. The Slytherin cupped her hand, the liquid flowing in then falling out through the ruining gaps upon raising it from the surface. This moment, she knew, was the prime of life, the safe place so often referred to by those who didn’t understand. Those who saw the wheels turning but not the axle behind it. She exhaled quietly, grasping at the water that took no shape.

“There is no safe place.” She whispered, and it was a truth difficult to swallow for those pitiable optimists. ‘Safe places’ were an enigma of psychology. Such foolish mind games wouldn’t prevail when faced with Persephone, the one realist that survived today’s trying time that encouraged happiness. Happiness was the same thing as ignorance.

Aimlessly, the core of the girl’s thoughts wandered back to Burnett’s monologue, spoken so exuberantly yet delivering a message so sinister. Even if the intentions had been pure, the deliverance had been so cunning that seemingly innocent words had struck like a silver blade, thankfully missing the vital organs. Due to the assumed origin of her name, Persephone had familiarized herself with the history of the corresponding goddess, like her parentage and later husband, followed by the minor details of an insignificant mythical life. Kidnapped and forcibly married to Hades, god of the underworld.

Persephone is a living embodiment of youth, beauty, and life, drawing the attention of the king of the dead. He lures Persephone with false promises, appealing to her desires and passions. As soon as she has enough trust in him to approach his lure, he opens the chasms of the underworld and she is seemingly eternally trapped in his grasp.

Isn’t that interesting?

What was actually more riveting than that, at least at the given moment, was the personified goddess of the harvest from Burnett’s point of view. According to the mythology surrounding these gods and goddesses, Persephone’s more well-known mother was this same one, Demeter. With an intoxicating grin capable of replacing the stars in the sky, the demon had announced a certain blonde as Demeter, an unfamiliar girl whose face only was vaguely recognized as someone in passing. A Hufflepuff, based on that swimsuit that warranted no further comment.

He couldn’t have known that.

Their interactions-- witty argument, near-death-experiences, the drawings-- replayed in her head, a catchy melody to a misleadingly jubilant song, hiding ominous lyrics under bright music. Exposure was a nightmare she’d rarely had to face, walking cautiously over fragile eggshells to keep her secrets her own. Evelynn had pulled one out through an idiotic method, grabbed and ripped it away from the safety of seclusion, but that aspect of the girl’s life couldn’t have made its way to the demon. And, beyond even the simplistic parental issues it seemed everyone faced: was it only a remarkable coincidence that his selected Demeter had been a Hufflepuff? It couldn’t have been anything more, impossibility wasn’t a negotiable term.

The snake’s piercing gaze shifted to his last known location, as if she could see the answers on the surface of his appearance, but her heart skipped several beats in response to what was there. The demon, malevolent and conniving in subtle, artful ways, had cracked. Not broken or shattered, but ruptured slightly, hysterical cries and laughs escaping the bottle in which they were held for a presumably long time. What had slipped by her in the wasteful moments she spent thinking? Ruka Tân stood beside the melting boy, as did Demeter, both soft and gentle in ways that perplexed Persy. Like…

They cared.

With a sinking soul, Persephone turned around, eyes blind to the event behind her, but ears still hearing the reassurances and Jack’s dread between them. Tân spoke the most often, benign precautions taken and enviable measures accompanying such. Emerald eyes stared straight ahead, confusion washing over her like an undesirable waterfall. Uncontrollable and part of the natural-- the real-- world. Jack lived there too, maybe. More likely, he was just as delicate as the majority, ego rupturing for a probably unnecessary reason. But the sobs. She’d heard them a million times.

For a moment, she didn’t look when he maneuvered away from his supposed breakdown, throwing it away as an April Fools’ Prank. Perhaps some wouldn’t see through such a transparent fortress, or they were being severely underestimated, but Persephone recognized her own habits when they were presented among others. Suppression, an art form. There were endless reasons this wasn’t believable to Persy: Jack was, by nature, a trickster, thriving in pranks and mayhem. All this created was short-spread panic and confusion. Behind this, his crying had sounded torn, mixed with bizarre giggles. This could’ve been an uneducated assumption, but the blonde guessed he wasn’t that talented an actor.

She only glanced back when he left with Tân, a picture-perfect emotionless look across her face. As their figures grew smaller with distance, the crybaby turned and walked in the other direction.

A whisper fell from her lips as she did, so quiet and out-of-range, it’s not worth mentioning what she said.

Persephone exits the thread.

Interacting with: @Adohiro Moira
Mentions: Elisa Teagan

Serena blinked at the boy's explanation. Apparently this pool party was created using a tin can or something and he wanted to do a chicken fight in the pool. She had absolutely no idea what that was - nor why sitting in a tin can was a good idea. "Serena Towers, third year Hufflepuff," She introduced herself in return to the boy she now knew as Adohiro. Her introduction was short and sweet, spending way too many years introducing herself to people at parties. It summarised the important things that he would likely want to know - based entirely on his own choice of words towards her. Serena offered out a hand for a handshake, should the boy wish for one.

"What's a chicken fight?" She asked, still unsure of what it actually was. All she knew about it was that people had to get out of the pool for that and they could get hurt. Always a worrying sign for the third year who had had many experiences of hurting hurt herself or seeing her friends getting hurt.

The boy was approached by a young girl [ELISA] that seemed to be a little anxious. She introduced herself to him, claiming they sat next to each other in class. Serena could not help but smile to herself at the interaction, recalling how shy she was when she was their age. It was sweet and innocent.

Interacting with @Alan Vanes @George Henry and @Jake Morris

Breana lets herself submerge in the pseudo-pool, finding it slightly odd to not have the familiar feel (and taste) of chlorine as she's deep under the pool. She slowly resurfaced, taking a deep breath as she pops up from the waters. Her face was covered by her thick brown hair, her usually tightly curled locks unfurling by the weight of the water. She quickly pushed her hair back (though with her signature hair clip missing), looking over at the boys still outside the pool. "Come on in, you guys!! The water's fine! ... and I think drinkable." She laughed a bit, and then turned her attention to the red-clad guy as he mentioned that he recognized her little tap number.

"Oh! Thanks..." She chuckled softly, a bit of a tint of red forming on her cheeks from the praise, especially when it came from a third year. She never met one personally, so talking to one, and let alone getting praise from one, was a rather big boost for her. "I'm glad you enjoyed it! I had fun doing it... Oh, and I'm Breana, by-the-by." She said, waving to the guy since she's in the pool now and didn't wanna accidentally get him wet.

She raised her eyebrow for a moment as George pulled something else from the bag, but she was a bit too far now to notice what it was. Probably just a misshaped chocoball. Breana beamed in excitement and Jake changed into a more swimming-friendly attire. Unfortunately, her expression turned into an adorable little pout as Jake (At least that's what she heard mid-choking) opted to wait a bit longer before heading in the pool. "Aw, come on, you guys! I bet you can make some good dives!" She coaxed him, just hoping to have someone she knew join in on the fun.

Interacting with @Alan Vanes @Jack Warren @George Henry @Breana Oliveire

Jack Warren gave permission for godmod

Interacting with @Jake Morris
Mentioning Opeila, Jack, and Ruka