Hogwarts' Got Talent! Spectators

Interacting: @Breana Oliveire
Mentioning: @Allister-Jameson MacAllister, @Lavinia Cloven,
@Lark Flaer, @Serena Bowen, @Elena Jangleton

As Allister announced that Muggle Magic was next in line, Pericles resumed his still, studious posture. The young pureblood could hardly fathom what this would entail. Lavinia requested a volunteer, and in that moment, he struggled with the desire to raise his hand out of sheer intrigue. Yet if he was up on stage, would his later recount still be considered ultimately unbiased...? Reluctantly, the writer's hands remained down on book and quill. He watched with absolute intrigue as Lark joined Lavinia. Her wand as relinquished, something that struck him as especially bold, a true show of genuineness. Could it have been a prop? Perhaps, but there was no chance Lavinia could perform non-verbal magic at their age. The rest of the act was absorbed in tense silence. Come the reveal, shock and wonder whirled across the boy's freckled face. He was left crunching numbers in his head, boggled by the unlikelihood of it all, coming up short on the "how" behind her performance. He applauded ardently, though the intensity of his claps dwindled down- abashed- when the performer herself accused the audience of thinking muggle magic wasn't "as cool". Pericles didn't want to seem overly amazed, though he jotted a reminder in the margins of his notebook to search the library for more on "Muggle Magic".

The next performance concerned something closer to home, albeit no less legitimate. Though his parents had introduced him to the basics of piano playing, Peri had learned just enough to read sheet music. His heart wasn't in it. That wasn't to say the lad lacked an appreciation for the instrument, yet at the end of the day, he would much rather listen to it. Even though the Dralts had not attended a muggle movie theater in nearly a year, he knew enough about music to appreciate what was unfolding. Music was meant to tell a story, or to carry like a conversation: a melody was a tone, and this one was a serene amalgamation of hope, wonder, longing, and resolution. It was passionately executed and well-deserving a resounding round of cheer. The Ravenclaw in the front row clapped come the close, and should he catch Serena's eye as she joined the audience, he would offer an approving nod to mutely congratulate her performance.

Although Elena was not recognized from her earlier place in the crowd, Pericles was quick to recognize her violin. It was a gorgeous piece, unique as it was intricate, perhaps an heirloom. Surely along with other onlookers, the boy was misled by the calm introduction. Yet soon the player's fingers danced a wild jig, darting over strings, bow flitting forward and back with staggering precision. The sheer coordination called for was outright baffling. Where former performance had been sweet and joyous, this one was bold, intricate in its intensity, a tune best played along with adventure. It was a song suitable for any lionhearted Gryffindor. At its end, Peri clapped long and loud, eyes wide with the ghost of a grin hinted at either corner of his mouth.

In spite of all the excitement, the Ravenclaw wasn't about to overlook the fleeing figure of Breana. They were eagles, after all, and there was no avoiding those eagle eyes of his. Well... so long as he was wearing his glasses. Blissfully ignorant towards her covert attempt at avoiding him, when Pericles spied his fellow first-year inching out from the stage area, he raised an arm to wave her way. Amusement was exchanged for delight at the sight of a familiar face. Should he manage to catch her eye, the young wizard would hold two thumbs up- people beyond the magic world still did that, yes?- and mouth Well done! while nodding in emphasis of his enjoyment. He wasn't about to get between a weary performer and the snack table, so he simply smiled from his seat.

Location: Backstage
Interacting with: @Rafael D'Spacito
Mentioning & Proximity: @Flash Holmwood & @Ruka Tân

Though Jack had thought he had finished with Rafa and Flash, apparently Rafa had decided he wasn't done with Jack. The tall Gryffindor pulled that weird half-hearted act he liked to do with the redheaded Slytherin where he put on a pretty little smile and batted his eyelashes like a smitten boy (or, debatably, girl) turning on the charm. Unfortunately for Rafael, the effect didn't work too well when his apparent behavior mismatched so badly with his threatening words.

With a small smile, a sigh, and a shake of his head, Jack scolded, "Tsk, tsk…is that all you've got, Thunder Butt? No more patience and no new tricks up your sleeves? I hardly even said much this time." He avoided the Quidditch player's gaze and ran a hand through his hair in a somewhat agitated fashion as if he were embarrassed for Rafa's attempt to appeal to him with that smile. "You've already used that look on me twice. You really thought it was going to work again? Especially while you're threatening me to the moon and back?"

It was true that Jack had somewhat been banking on Flash's presence to curb Rafa's more violent tendencies since he'd hoped Rafa would want to be on his best behavior in front of the other Slytherin. However, it seemed the lion's crazy temper was much harder to tame than Jack had guessed it to be.

Still, Jack thought, it wasn't anything he wasn't used to or didn't think he could handle. His mouth twisted and his eyes became half-lidded as he cast the stronger boy a look of unimpressed incredulity. "Really?" he asked again. "You're going to go there? So full of disappointments today. I thought you might have at least learned a thing or two from our previous interactions, but it doesn't seem like it. Haven't you realized how useless it is to threaten me - especially with violence?"

The boy huffed. "Also…it's one thing to browbeat me, D'Spacito…but watch who else you talk about going after to my face." His lips split into a sneer. "Not that I'd be worried for Tân's sake if you decided to go ahead and sneak into his room." He gave Rafa a sideways look as if sizing him up. "Before Hogwarts, life on the streets was all Tân ever knew. I'm sure he's learned a thing or two about how to defend himself thanks to becoming accustomed to that way of life as a homeless street performer.

"But go ahead!" Jack urged. "You're stubborn and hard-headed enough. Go ahead and try 'paying him a visit' if you think you can take him. I'm sure he's had to deal with loads of creeps like you trying to slit his throat in his sleep. As for you? A guy who's barely his age if even that? You think your size and brawn has anything on his experience and brain?" The Slytherin produced a derisive laugh. "Good luck. And don't say I didn't warn you as you find yourself being burned alive."

Any trace of amusement abruptly disappeared from the redhead's face. "By the way, you pervert, he's practically my brother already, so where do you get off calling him my boyfriend?" Hazel eyes darted to Flash. "I'm not like you. I don't go throwing around the word 'boyfriend' willy-nilly while drooling over four other guys and girls. His gaze cut back to Rafa and his tone suddenly dropped to dangerous levels.

"Speaking of…" Thick brows narrowed as he locked eyes with the Gryffindor. "If you dare try playing Flash like you played Stuart, I'll make certain you regret it. No matter what you've done to me so far, I've let it slide. But this is between you and me alone. Leave others out of it or you might get your chance to actually see what I can do when I'm angry." The hardened features of his face softened somewhat. "I hear I can tend to be a pretty vindictive guy when given a reason. And believe me…I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

With little to no warning, Rafa grabbed Jack by the front of his shirt and shoved him against a wall, nearly knocking the wind from Jack's lungs. The Slytherin raised his chin to coldly look down his nose at the slightly paler complexion of his captor as the other boy spoke trembling, emotion-empowered words. Only when he seemed finished did Jack bother attempting to answer.

"Hey…as long as you keep your focus on your hatred of me, it's pretty easy to ignore your anxiety, isn't it?" The shorter boy cast the lion a small, knowing smile. "If anyone has a need for attention or a therapist or real friends, it's you. Look at you; you're lashing out at the smallest provocation because you're a bundle of nerves. Physical displays of violence do little to hide your insecurities from those who are familiar enough with them to know how to recognize your behavior for what it is. You don't think I know exactly what I'm doing? Or what you're trying to do?"

Jack closed his eyes, took a deep breath through his nose, and then exhaled the same way. "Seems like you're up next. You should thank me for giving you something else to direct all those pent-up emotions on; an outlet for your nerves. But don't end up falling apart now." He regarded Rafa, tugging his casual clothes into place here and there to make him more presentable.

"Now's your chance to show them what you're made of. A single show of vulnerability can be leagues more powerful a display than any Quidditch triumph or schoolyard brawl. The fact that this is harder for you than either of those things just goes to prove my point." With a crooked sort of grin, he gave the Gryffindor a light punch to the shoulder. "So don't blow it. What good are those acting skills and looks if you can't use them to show a more sensitive side from time to time, huh?"

It was then that the Welsh boy's sight shifted to look over Rafa's shoulder in order to focus on Flash. He wondered what the other Slytherin would make of his and Rafa's little standoff. Had the blue-eyed brunet seen the glimpse of the Gryffindor's acting abilities? Perhaps he would be more on-guard against them in the future and realize he wasn't the only one who knew how to wear masks in order to win the favor of others.

But...that wasn't always necessarily a bad thing. Especially if one had a performance to put on.

"Knock 'em dead, songbirds."

Flash having steeled himself to help support his partner, he found Rafael to be in a state of still needing reassurance and care. Flash’s heart was also still beating wildly out of control, but he cared much more about banishing the terrible uneasiness on Rafael’s face. It didn’t suit him to be unsure, and Flash knew he had nothing to be afraid of. The thought even occurred to him that Rafael might even feel the same way about him, which only made his conviction to help him grow.

Almost right as he opened his mouth to soothe Rafael with his words of encouragement, they were replaced by the sound of Burnett’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, making light of their practice and their closeness. Flash refused to turn around and look at him, not feeling at all enticed to give him the reaction he was looking for. He had hoped Burnett had already had his fun, so why did he keep going? Weren’t things going according to his plan already? He was prodding too far, annoyingly pestering further to no apparent end.

Whether intended or not, he got a reaction. Namely, Rafael was already teetering on the edge of losing his composure, and was handed the opportunity to drop right off the edge. Not looking at Burnett at all, Flash watched Rafael’s face turn from a soft, mixed up discomfort into something hard and seething. His whole body tightened, like a foxhound who just caught the scent of his prey, already anticipating the taste of the fox’s throat in its jaws. Then just as quickly as it happened, it changed again into a smile. A cover. No, don’t take the bait...

It was too late, Rafael’s words in reply were lilting and depraved, promising harm to Burnett and Ruka both as a means to get him to go away. It was never going to work, it would only make Burnett want to push even further. He thrived on conflict, and Rafael seemed more than willing to give it to him. Flash wanted to draw his attention away, explain the folly of his approach, but it was over as soon as it began. A hound on the hunt didn’t have an off switch, it had instincts.

Burnett voiced his inexorable disappointment in Rafael’s reaction, using key phrases meant to dig under his skin where the armor was at its weakest. Burnett… damn it... Flash was trapped between them, their words and emotions heating up quickly and fiercely. Burnett sprinkled his dialogue with information about Rafael, and even Ruka. Flash tried to look through Rafael’s features to see the thoughts inside, but it was almost as if he had lost him, like he was gone completely.

Burnett had clearly been messing with Rafael for a while. The way he spoke to him alluded to so many things that Flash had no idea about. He didn’t know Rafael’s teammates, or anything about boyfriends and previous threats of violence. He finally turned to look at the monologuer, no end to his rush of provoking talk. He was looking at Flash. Was this supposed to be for him to hear? Was he trying to warn him about Rafael? Wasn’t he just unhappy that he and Rafael got along so well? Then… what, a threat? It was perhaps the most alarming side of Burnett Flash had yet to see, he didn’t know what he was trying to pull. It seemed… serious. Messing with me would… give him a reason to be vindictive? Is that what he’s saying? Why…

Flash didn’t have time to question Burnett’s use of language, because Rafael had been unleashed. Moving out of the corner of his eye, Flash couldn’t do anything to stop the charging bull, who lifted Burnett up and shoved him against the wall. Panic coursed through Flash’s veins like ice as he watched the situation slip out of control. Rafael’s words were cutting, personal, and vindictive. Either Burnett had said the exact right things to set him off, or he was at the end of his tether already. Flash shouldn’t have waited, he should have seen that the fuse was lit and tried to put it out. I’m such an idiot!

Burnett said as much, calling out Rafael’s quick temper in the most condescending way possible, while also making a point about the strength of vulnerability. He had to know it sounded like an insult somehow, coming out of his mouth. It was enough, anyway. Even though he didn’t want to do anything to play into Burnett’s hands, Flash wasn’t going to be a bystander now that the situation had become too heightened. He was supposed to be Rafael’s partner in this, and he just let him get harassed by Burnett all on his own.

Carefully, Flash walked up to Rafael’s side, close, making eye contact.

”He’s right about one thing Rafael, we’re next.” Flash's voice was even, unaffected by the ups and downs of the day so far. His face was calm, understanding. ”Please, don’t let Burnett take your attention away from me. I’m the one who needs you right now.”

The situation diffused, though the root of the argument hadn’t been touched. It was more than Flash could realistically deconstruct at the moment. For one, he would need to get to know Rafael better, learn about the sides of him he didn’t show him. Bitterness, vitriol. No one was one note, everyone was an ongoing piece with themes and movements. Flash wasn’t afraid of dynamic changes, surprises intrigued him. After dropping Burnett, Rafael breathed in deeply and dropped the anger like it didn’t belong to him. Flash watched him change again, putting on an act as Burnett put it. It was something important, something he needed to take note of.

”Thank you.” Flash smiled, a concerned look kitting itself into his brow. ”Remember to breathe. Just look at me, don’t worry about anything else.”

Just as Flash had expected, the time until they needed to go on stage has vanished as if it had only been seconds. It was only a matter of time before their names would be called. He didn’t just want Rafael to barely keep it together, he wanted him to enjoy himself.

”I could never do this without you. Remember the reason you agreed to this to begin with. It’s not like you’re going to be alone out there. I’ll… I’ll be singing for you, so please listen.”

Towards the end of what he was saying, Flash started to feel bashful again. It always happened when he talked to Rafael, he always ended up saying things that were embarrassing. Perhaps it was because he knew Rafael liked it.

Interacting with: @Rafael D'Spacito @Jack Burnett

Interacting with @Pericles Dralt
Mentioning @Allister-Jameson MacAllister and @Elena Jangleton

Despite her best efforts to be a sneak, she forgot to factor in Pericles's sharp eyesight thanks to his glasses. She almost jumped as she saw his arm wave at her. "Ssssugar." Breana thought. So much for her covert little plan to leave. Still, for some reason, her heart fluttered like a snitch on haywire as she saw him giving her two thumbs up and mouthing something... positive?

Then a dangerous thought came to her mind-- well, dangerous for her at least. Should she dare walk up to him, all sweaty and gross? Breana has a feeling that she even has pit stains, and Merlin knows she would rather get expelled than to have Pericles notice that. However, a part of her would want to hang out with him more... plus, she wanted to watch the rest of the show, and what better way to watch it than with someone she knows? Maybe her sweat would probably not be smelly, and her pits aren't stained on her shirt.

So, she swallowed any doubt in her mind (and probably any dignity) as she walked up to him, taking up an empty seat next to him. "Hey, Peri!" Breana said, her voice low enough for him to be the only one to hear her. "You were mouthing something? I don't really read lips that well-- I mean, I'm sure your lips are well shaped to be readable-- er..." She rambled. If it weren't for the show lights being overly bright, one can notice her face turning into a deep shade of red.

Thankfully, she was saved by the bell-- or rather, the emcee. She noticed the young lad head back to the stage, making Breana turn her head to him, hoping that Pericles would follow suit. He was introducing another musician, Elena, to the stage. A part of her wondered if she should've chosen a more solemn route and picked spoken word for her talent. But that part of her is too raw, too vulnerable for her to open up to the public just yet. The tap-dancing was a safe and funny bet, so she was content with her choice.

Breana's eyes looked over at Pericles, wondering why was he here, of all places? It's not that she couldn't see him in an event, but more on her wondering is he loved the arts that much to attend. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to ask him. She doesn't know why, but she wanted to know more, and talk more to Pericles. She also doesn't know that she kept staring at Pericles throughout the violin girl's performance.

Interacting with @Breana Oliveire
Mentioning @Rafael D'Spacito and @Jack Burnett

Fortuitously for Breana, if Pericles took appearances into any consideration, he did a flawless job at hiding it. His smile was sincere as ever when the sweaty dancer joined him, nose crinkling with a withheld laugh at her odd comment. "That's alright- my lips are quite thin," the boy commented casually, "so I suppose they could be difficult to read at a distance. I was saying well done! Your performance was creative: using your spells to loop a chair into a musical number was positively brilliant." He gave a light chummy nudge of the elbow, adding with a vague drawl of sly amusement, "Very Ravenclaw of you. Where did you learn to dance?"

As the violinist took the stage, Peri's focus shifted, glued to the performance. Enjoyment turned to excitement while the wild tune played on. At the end, setting his writing utensils in his lap, he had applauded enthusiastically with the rest of them before turning back to Breana. "What I'd give to play like that!" His voice was just loud enough to carry over the crowd, leaning in slightly to be heard above the din.

Pericles picked the seat at the very front, on the very edge, for a number of reasons which the average (normal) mind may not have bothered considering. He was happy for the company, but this way, he only had one person to talk with while still diligently taking notes. The side seat meant he had a quick access to the open area against the wall if- for any reason- he needed an exit. Lastly, it allowed him to glean the slightest peek into the backstage. He did nothing to indicate what he witnessed: a spat, one rather tall and identifiable student holding another against a wall. Yet his eyes remained fixed on them as opposed to the emcee, lidded like one on the verge of daydream. Airily he added, squeezing in another query before the next act could begin, "D'you know how to play any instruments, or is dancing more your forte?" No need to cause alarm. He would wait and see if the situation escalated before deciding whether or not to act.

╔══════════════☩══♛══☩══════════════╗

Interacting With: @Jack Burnett @Flash Holmwood
Mentioning: Evelynn Decipio

╚═══════════════☩══✦══☩══════════════╝

[font=Segoe Print]Rafael had felt death before. It coursed through his veins every time he grew angry, livid, furious, the manifestation of a monster within the recesses of his being rising to the surface, clawing, knawing at his insides, fighting for a say in all his actions and decisions. There were days that the boy could control it, satiate his impulses through sheer willpower, withhold the animal from wreaking its fiery vengeance on all those who dared crossed him. However, more often than not, he found himself powerless in controlling it – he was the victim of an infection, a sickness of the limbs, a ghost in the machine, if he’d ever seen one.

The monster was beckoning, its symptoms evident in the way the boy’s fists clenched and unclenched, his face growing red, muscles tense, breath quick. His heart rate, once slow and composed, was now beating at the rate of a snare drum, throbbing in his ears as time seemed to slow down around him, the only thing he could clearly focus on being Jack Burnett and the need for him to be gone from the face of the earth. There was no other option for his anger to be relieved, no other outlet, way for his livid rage to be satiated –

The snake was dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

It all happened too fast. Rafael could barely register his fist extending out before him, shoving acutely into the skin of the snake’s face as he roared, other hand making quick work to shove the cursed child to the ground. Without waiting for him to writhe upon the floors like the snake he was, the child’s foot extended, a perfect, rib-cracking kick landing in the side of the Slytherin boy. The kicks didn’t stop – the boy’s anger was only continually executed without mercy upon the perpetrator in question, his rage only growing as each blow landed. “Feel that?” he yelled. “Do you goddam feel th-“

Except that never happened.

No, the boy could only stare at the snake as he fumed, the anger rolling off of his being in thick waves, his impulses scraping for a hold on his actions. What was he to do? His mind was racing at a dizzying speed, whole being shaking in rage. No, he couldn’t beat Burnett up here. Not now. Not with everyone watching, waiting for something eventful to happen. Not with Evelynn watching. No, that would be stupid tactless – he was trying to get better, yeah? Jack thought he knew what he was dealing with. It was better to confuse, disarm, make the snake tear himself inside out all by his own, what from guilt, shame, embarrassment. Empty words and fists could only go so far – the best warfare was all psychological. Thankfully for Rafael, he knew a thing or two about such a war.

”He’s right about one thing Rafael, we’re next. Please, don’t let Burnett take your attention away from me. I’m the one who needs you right now.”

“Yeah,” the boy muttered back at his fellow performer, his eyes never leaving the Demon Brat in question. Well, Jack was right about one thing – Rafael had issues. However, they weren’t nearly what could be seen at face value. The two were at war now, and little did Jack know, he’d fucked with the wrong Gryffindor. Because the young Captain didn’t like to lose. He could only smile at the boy across from him, voice sweet, as he uttered the ominous words. “You’re going to pay for that one, Burnett. You’re going to fucking pay.” That was all that needed to be said – leave it to the child’s active imagination to find out what such a statement could mean.

It was then he turned back to Flash, a sigh escaping his lips as his gaze softened in the slightest. “I will, yeah?” he responded. “Listen, that is. I, um – “ he exhaled quickly, looking down for a moment as he scrambled for the right words. “For what it’s worth, I have faith in you. You’re a great singer, mate – there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll do well. Don’t be afraid, okay? I’ll be there for you every step of the way.” Sure, he couldn’t be sure of how much the other boy truly cared, but that didn’t matter. What mattered, was that he was there for the other boy just as much as the Slytherin was there for him. They were in this together, fail or success. “Have some fun out there, will you? Break a leg?” A smile played on his lips just then, a simple prod. “You ready?” [/font]

[font=Segoe Print]

– Closed to further interactions –

[/font]

Interacting with @Jack Burnett
Mentioning @Flash Holmwood and @Rafael D'Spacito

For a second that seemed to last ages, Ruka thought his hug might have put Jack off, had made him feel uncomfortable somehow, but just a moment later the other boy reciprocated with an arm around the smaller one, making Ruka's smile widen so much his cheeks hurt with it.
To see Jack's own merry expression made a calm settle in his stomach that soothed his restless limbs and made him experience nothing but unadulterated enthusiasm.

"Hey," he said uselessly, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a few seconds as he listened to the other boy's words, his curiosity rising as he mentioned his mom sending some last minute things. He tilted his head to the side, following Jack to the partitioned area he had been talking about, tapping the torches in his right hand against his thigh occasionally as he walked.

He was just about to say something about how grateful he was for Jack to be doing this with him when the other boy stopped to excuse himself, heading towards the girl with the dancing chair coming from the stage. "O-Okay," he managed to say with a small laugh as he watched Jack hurry off. Deciding that there was no need to just follow the Slytherin's every move, Ruka decided to just find a spot to lean against a wall, propping the torches against it next to him. One of them tumbled to the side and rolled a little further away across from him almost immediately, but Ruka decided just to leave it before any more movement would just cause the rest of the torches to fall over as well.

For a couple of minutes he just closed his eyes, trying to get his excitement under control by focusing on his breathing for a while. "One, two, three," he found himself counting out loud before his eyes snapped open in something like shocked surprise. He was working so hard on keeping the Counting under control, but he didn't seem to be able to shake it completely. Each and every time his mind became more turbulent he seemed to revert back to counting to feel more in control.

Feeling some anger at himself for having to use obsessive methods like that to keep his own brain in check, he bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to wince in pain.

This wasn't helping, he decided, pushing himself away from the wall to pace the area restlessly, four steps to the left, three steps to the right, two steps forward, three steps back. Twelve steps in total. He counted every single one.

Being by himself just seemed to make the need to count worse, so instead he decided to let his attention drift to the other people around the backstage area. It was crowded so he felt fortunate to be occupying an area people only seemed to walk in and out of to grab costumes or some random props. Letting his gaze drift over to the stage, he felt a twinge of regret at the fact that he hadn't really paid much attention to any of the other acts; there had to have been some pretty talented people on that stage, but he had been far too busy with his own excitement to really focus properly.

As he searched the group of people backstage, he found a familiar face not too far away, standing awkwardly by himself, staring at something Ruka couldn't see properly due to his position. Moving a little to the side, Ruka followed Flash's gaze, eyebrows shooting up in surprised terror.

Five minutes; It couldn't have been any more than that. He'd taken his eyes off Jack for five minutes and the Slytherin had found himself pinned against a wall by the freakishly tall, stupidly aggressive Gryffindor Quidditch captain who looked about ready to smash his fist into Jack's face again. A part of Ruka wanted to head over to get Rafa off Jack any way he possibly could - He had to know a useful spell for this type of situation, maybe the Freezing Charm, maybe the Knockback Jinx - while the other part wanted to yell at Flash for just standing there and watching like an idiot.

Can you not keep your pet under control, he wanted to shout in frustration, but just as he was about to make his way over to the scene, Rafa let go of Jack, prompting Ruka to take a step back as to not be seen watching.

As he moved backwards, his foot caught on the torch that had failed and rolled across the floor earlier on, causing him to trip and hit the floor painfully with his back, his shoulders tensing as he tried to steady his fall with his elbows. Blinking a few tears away, he quickly scrambled back on his feet, picking up the torch and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Ouch," he mumbled to himself, just as he spotted Jack approaching him again. With a concerned look he mustered the other boy, but there didn't seem to be a scratch on him, and he still seemed quite excited about the prospect of getting on stage soon enough, so Ruka decided not to address what he'd witnessed just yet. This wasn't the time to talk about this.

Instead, he followed Jack to the clothing rack, watching curiously as the Slytherin pulled out four coat hangers, presenting two different outfits in two different sizes. With glazed over eyes, Ruka reached for the smaller one of the outfit with the fire foxes dancing across it, carefully taking it from Jack's hands to smooth a hand across the light, comfortable material. "I love these," he said genuinely, eyes following the flames stretching across the black background. "I think they're perfect." If he was being honest, he barely cared about whether the outfits might be too flashy for a performance; all he really wanted to do was run to his dorm to formulate a letter of gratitude to Jack's mom for her thoughtful gift.

With a wide smile that quivered slightly under an onslaught of emotion, Ruka clutched the outfit against his chest as if he feared someone was going to come and tear it out of his grip at any moment. "Would you... Would you mind wearing these?" He didn't really take Jack for someone who would be embarrassed to stand out, but he still felt the need to check for his agreement. After all, they were partners in this performance, and decisions were supposed to be made together.

With a noise of excitement escaping his throat, Ruka quickly made his way over to the table Jack indicated, eyes widening at the prospect of getting their faces painted. "I've never done any face painting," he admitted sheepishly, unsure if it was something kids his age were usually more familiar with. Either way, he thought the idea itself was not only thoughtful in terms of performance impact, but also fun and creative, and all he wanted to do was try and see what the soot would look like spread around their eyes. "Not sure I'd be able to make it look cool if I tried to put any of that on either of us, but..." He chuckled sheepishly, lifting a hand to run it through his hair, making a few strands of too long hair fall into his eyes. "I think it'd be awesome. Even professional, like..."

Like less of a homeless person doing a street performance, was what he wanted to say, but he stopped himself before he could go there. There was no space for the deprecation of his own upbringing and the life style he grew up in, no point in letting himself feel sorry about the things he'd never been able to do or see or have. Instead he smiled brightly at Jack, deciding to simply be grateful to have an opportunity to experience all these things now rather than never.

Reaching for the pot of ink, he offered it to Jack excitedly. "Here, just don't get any in my eyes, please," he said with a little laugh. "I'm good, but not good enough to perform blindly."

Location: backstage > partition before the backstage entrance > performance on stage
Interacting with: @Ruka Tân
Mentioning & Proximity: @Flash Holmwood, @Rafael D'Spacito, @Opeila Seilun, & @Allister-Jameson MacAllister

Once Flash seemed to get Rafael to focus on him instead of Jack and the Slytherin-Gryffindor pair concentrated on supporting each other as they moved to go onstage, Jack walked back to check on his own lion counterpart. He listened to them a little as he went, but knew he couldn't linger or dawdle. Opeila was after Flash and Rafael, but right after her violin solo was his and Ruka's performance. There was almost no time left. So much for maybe being able to practice.

As he was heading back, however, he saw Ruka on the floor having muttered 'ouch' and saw a stray, unlit torch rolling about near his feet. Guessing what must have happened, he quickly increased his speed to go help the second year up.
"Oof, ouch," Jack said sympathetically, wincing. "That looked like it hurt. Careful there, Tân. Think you'll still be able to perform?" He looked the other boy over as they walked to the clothing, eyeing him worriedly. He knew even if Ruka didn't think the damage was so bad just then, there was always the possibility it was worse than it seemed and it would only be more noticeable later. If he performed in that condition, Jack figured he could unwittingly make the injury even worse. Still, though...the Gryffindor was stubborn, and if he wanted to perform, the Slytherin doubted he could stop him.

Hazel eyes brightened when Ruka seemed to delight in the new garments Jack showed him. He smiled at his upperclassman's obvious joy and shook his head once when he was asked if he would mind wearing the more 'flashy' set of performance clothing.

"Wouldn't mind at all. Especially if that's what you prefer," he told Ruka gladly. "Mom will probably be extra happy since she tried to get these to us as fast as she could in time for the talent show. Not to mention...I don't know when else I'll ever have a chance to show this off in a performance. I don't have the guts or skill to just go out and perform in public in front of a whole bunch of strangers like you do."

Returning the plain black sets to the clothing rack, Jack quickly tugged off his clothes aside from his underwear and switched them for the ones on the hangers, making sure to straighten his school uniform as he set it aside. While waiting for Ruka to do the same, he hurriedly got out the charcoal and opened the bottle of ink, thinking for a moment before delicately dipping a few of his fingers in.

"Heh...glad you approve," he chuckled, pleased that Ruka seemed as excited if not more so than he was. He was fairly certain he was more nervous, but as Ruka had the harder part of the act and he trusted the Gryffindor with his life, Jack managed to calm the worst of his own anxiety.

"I won't," he assured the older boy when he was warned not to get any in his eyes. "But I bet you're better than you think you are. You might be surprised how much muscle memory can do. Your body can probably determine how far or close a torch is by the heat of the flame, too." Jack laughed. "Maybe your next trick can be to try to learn how to do it blindfolded after all. I can watch you and help to make sure you don't hurt yourself during practice. Put them out or move you before something bad actually happens."

Reaching for the other boy's face with his clean hand, he tried to gently but firmly hold him by his jawline so he could smear the ink and some of the charcoal - rubbing the ashy-soot-like substance off of it using the moisture of the ink - onto Ruka's face with careful fingers. Then, holding up a mirror, he showed him his work while quickly attempting to mimic the same work on his own face.

"There we go," he sighed, relieved. But his breath caught in his throat when he thought he heard AJ's voice speaking yet again - this time with heavily-accented versions of Ruka's and his own full names.

"Alright, we got this!" Jack told his companion, making sure he had everything he needed before heading out. Then he smiled back at Ruka, white teeth extra bright against all the black he wore. "Thanks for letting me perform with you, Tân. I'll do my best to make sure you don't regret it and that I won't let you down."

With a wink and a quick, "Break a leg!" he split off from the other fire dancer to enter from his side of the stage, making sure to blow out all the main lights and start the music on the record player that he had set up before going to fetch his partner.