Secret Blossom Ball Event Finished

Mentions: @Alexander Varellion
Open to interactions.

Interactions: @Annie Morgan || @Aaron Jones
Mentions: @Dale Kurt

Saskia felt severely underdressed compared to everyone else. It was clear to her that many people put a lot of effort into what they were wearing. There were people in ball gowns, for crying out loud. She bet even the first years bothered to put more effort than she had. The only assurance she had was that she was really trying to impress her date. Nothing more, nothing less. But even she felt nervous about that. What if Annie took all the time and effort to look her best, and she would have been stuck with some girl with a blue dress, some bracelet she borrowed from her mother, and ankle boots?

No. She had to stop worrying about that. She was coming any time soon, and it was too late to regret what she could have done. She just had to make sure she looked better for the next ball if she’d still be going with a date by then.

Saskia didn’t have to wait long. Her eyes met with the girl and she could feel her face flush. She was breathtaking, to say the least. The dress definitely complimented the rest of her look, with the pale peach blending in with the spring theme. Her hair fell in smooth waves below her shoulder with ribbons and flowers fastening the braided crown on her head. She even put in the effort to wear makeup- something that Saskia had given up beforehand. She was gorgeous, and she wasn’t sure if she could measure up to someone who looked this good.

But from what Annie told her, she didn’t seem to care that she was so underwhelming compared to her. She might have lowered her standards for her sake, but it was still relieving to know that she didn’t look like a complete fashion disaster. “Thanks. I’m glad you’re here with me too.” She paused, smiling as she took in her appearance again. “You look stunning yourself.” She was at a loss for words on what to say. She could have told her she was beautiful, but was that taking things too far? What were the right words to say when she was supposed to compliment someone on how they looked anyway?

She wasn’t sure if her boots would have been good for dancing, but the idea of dancing with Annie was nevertheless an appealing one. But before she could say anything on the matter, a boy came up to them. It only took her a second to realize that it was Aaron, one of the waitlisted Quidditch players who played in the unofficial match with Gryffindor. For someone who was waitlisted, he was an eager player and someone she imagined would have performed just as well in a real Quidditch match.

She grinned at the boy, his excitement already rubbing off on her. “It really is amazing. There was a lot of thought put into everything, and they really made it seem like this was an official Blossom Ball, except even better." She couldn't really say what the other Blossom Balls were like, as she hadn't attended the previous ones, but so far, this one blew her expectations.

Aaron complimented the two on their dresses, and while she could have easily brushed it off as idle filler in a conversation, his words seemed very genuine. "Thank you. You look great too," she replied brightly, making sure her words felt just as genuine as his were.

Annie had asked some questions to Aaron, and Saskia didn't know what else she could ask to the boy, but she didn't want to have to awkwardly stand around while the two were talking. "Yeah, if you want to hang with us, you can. Although I think you have a lot of other people you have to attend to."

Annie leaned a little closer to her while she talked, and just like that, Saskia was very aware of her heart loudly beating in her chest.The other thing she noticed was that she was cold to the touch. Without another thought, the Hufflepuff wrapped her arm around her, pulling her closer to her. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, wasn’t there? She was cold, she needed to warm up, and she was here to make sure she was warm. But from the butterflies fluttering within her, she couldn’t deny what was already obvious. The warmth she was feeling herself wasn’t just from being close to Annie and she knew that.

She snapped out of her thoughts when Annie suddenly started yelling. Dale? Saskia turned to where Annie was facing, her eyes widening as she spotted the other boy. It was easy to notice him in his pink suit, which was really something she wasn't expecting anyone to wear. From what she knew about Dale already, she didn't think he would have been the type to wear that kind of suit either. She wanted to say it looked absolutely ridiculous, but she wasn't sure if he had a legitimate reason to wear it. Did he just like the colour pink? Was he being dared to wear it? Annie had already called for him to come over, and if he did, she might have gotten her answer.

Outfit: Dress | Shoes | Bracelet

Grace thought about how well the ball was going, maybe it wasn’t going to become a disaster.

Grace then heard a voice, a girl complemented her dress, Grace smiled “Aw, thanks, you too!” she took a sip of her Yoohoo.

Grace got up, the girl introduced herself as Emory “I’m Grace! So, who are you with?” Grace asked, tucking her dirty blonde hair behind her ear.

“Sorry, I’m gonna go, it was nice meeting you!” Grace waved goodbye, threw her bottle out and went to the dance floor, she danced a bit, this time, her hair and makeup got all messed up.

Grace groaned, it took so long to to this style, she looked through a book for days.

Her feet started to hurt, the heels/boots were hurting her a lot, so Grace took a deep breath, she should go to the change rooms and take a little break to fix herself up, she squeezed her hair, and got up.

Then out of the blue, her stomach grumbled again, ugh, she ran to the table, taking some food and eating it fast but not so fast that she would choke.

After Grace finished eating, she went into the change rooms.

@Evelynn Decipio, @Katrina Walker, & Anyone Else...

Hand in my hand, and we promised to never let go.
We're walking a tightrope...
High in the sky, we can see the whole world down below.
We're walking a tightrope...

Never sure, never know how far we could fall...
But it's all an adventure that comes with a breathtaking view...
Walking a tightrope...
With you.

Since hearing of the tales about the Masquerade ball that had gone up in flames, Piérre had been a little wary about attending the incoming Blossom Ball.

…

That is, he would have been if it hadn't been for the fact that this was yet another excuse to go out in public, dance, sing, and generally act the monkey. The latter part Piérre did with pride. Indeed, after all his "grooming" and "prepping" from a young age watching old movies and generally being a card as he was, Piérre was slipping out of the front gates of Hogwarts, outwardly dressed in Quidditch robes (minus the armor. That would have been a bit uncomfortable).

No, he had not brought his clothes separately, but he had trusted that between his outwardly sporty appearance and the general tendency of the lad to dress up more than dress casual, perhaps he would fly under the unperceptive eye. Even if he was spotted, Piérre would be hard to keep an eye on, for he utilized his natural speed and general dexterity to skip, hop, and even flip his way to the event. (Okay, perhaps flipping was a bit much, but there was a backflip in there near the end.)

Finally, he was before the party, glancing about at the people who were still trickling in and listening voraciously to the chatter and atmosphere that was coming from within. It was an atmosphere that Piérre planned to liven. Green eyes travelled across the ebbing party, the people already dancing, and those people on the sides. Piérre didn't notice anyone off the bat, but he soon realized that often... people were brought to him more often that he to them. It would be a matter of time before trouble found him wanted and decided to take the Britalian on a little joyride.

Before slipping inside, Piérre unceremoniously tossed his shed quidditch robes into a nearby bush, completely forgetting the tragedy of his Ravenclaw scarf from a few months back, revealing the dapper suit beneath. Whomever said that the Britalian was not in any way proper had evidently never met his wardrobe. Having agonized over what to wear, Piérre decided that green was what made him stand out best, with the twin hue of his eyes, and so decided that Slytherin should be the suit of the night. Green silk from head to toe, green paisley and a sharp tie, and jet black dress shoes that almost gleamed in the sparse light threw away all clown in the boy to the wind, leaving a gentleman in its stead. Heart beating wildly, Piérre smiled with pearly whites at the entrance, ready to make a show. His palms were slightly sweaty, but Piérre waved his hands to dry them before stepping in, dedicating himself to this night.

In his chest pocket, on the right, gleamed his white yew wand, its bonelike swirls echoing faintly the same pattern upon Piérre's Slytherin attire. Unlike last ball, where Piérre had not been studious at all and would have probably been severely harmed, now Piérre was prepared to at least fight for others if not himself. In his left pocket, a small silk kerchief, embroidered with the swirly uppercase characters 'PM'.

No sooner had he entered, Piérre glanced to either side, noting the brooms there. Yes, there were private brooms, brooms that if Piérre took would make him a thief, but there were also plain brooms, school brooms set up for the event's masquerading act. Surely taking one would be of no harm? A little areal acrobatics never killed; especially if one knew their way around a broom.

With a little clap, Piérre snatched a nearby School Broom.

Boy oh boy, he had a plan for this broom. It was not his broom, or, rather, the kinky broom that Piérre called his whenever he practiced or played for Quidditch; no, it was just a typical broom: a few wild twigs, a rough edge or two, and lovingly worn. Still, a lovely device.

After ensuring the coast was clear, Piérre tossed the broom in front of him a few feet, before flicking his hand up and commanding. "Up!"

At his beck and call, the broom levitated, and Piérre leapt onto it, coasting it into the open, sitting upon it like an Equestrian sidesaddle as he entered the party. Floating just overhead, Piérre grasped the broomshaft, rocketing into the sky as if he could play with the fireworks. Looking about, Piérre admired the dark sky sprinkled with stars, and the people dancing below, perhaps at some looking up at him. Colours swirled and played with one another, hypnotizing and elegant. If someone waved at him, the energetic boy waved back.

This truly was how to enjoy a party. Watching with an eagle's eye view.

With a sigh, Piérre threw his leg over the broom, mounting it fully before laying with his chest on the broad broomshaft. He looked downward, playing a game of Where's Waldo with his own I Spy rules thrown in. More specifically, he was looking for familiar faces. Faces that were kind of hard to see this high up in the air.

Piérre enters and takes a school broom
Location- Hovering overhead

-currently closed to other interactions-

Interacts with: @Anastasia Beckett and @Ami Procoppio

Chad Preoccupied, impressive already by the end of his name, was hilariously breathtaking. When Ami had first appeared in his field of vision, Scott's eyes had locked on her not because he recognised his friend, this in fact took a while, but because that's just the effect purple top hats usually had on him.

"You look amazing!" Was what he exclaimed, and "I mean, handsome." was how he corrected himself, when Ami first reached the two Gryffindors by the table. She'd really never be allowed to judge whatever frilly thing he wore next, that much was certain...

Looking amusedly between Anastasia and his magnificently suited up friend, Scott couldn't help but feel a little underdressed. He wasn't, of course, not for the occasion- but in direct comparison to the pink meringue on one side of him and the dapper drag king on the other, there really wasn't much competition.

Delighted, Scott stroke the top of Chad's top hat and felt the fabric when Ami asked what he thought of it all.

"I won't lie," He admitted. "You are reminding me a bit of my uncle. Albert. Always with the purple, he is... but other than that, properly a king." He even laughed, and traced his own upper lip with his finger when he spotted the moustache his friend had drawn on hers. "Nice touch."

Scott had seen Ami dressed in drag before. But neither the cheeky excitement he'd noticed then, nor the blissful awe she'd emitted during one of the shows they saw in America, could've prepared him for how all in she'd go this once.

Truly, Chad was only strengthening the ball's mystical atmosphere with his presence.

But he was also standing quite close. Looking apologetically over his friend's shoulder, Scott could see Anastasia facing the back of the velvet suit somewhat awkwardly... Ami had, as she'd walked up to the two of them, taken to stand as if completely cutting the other Gryffindor out of the conversation. Scott hoped, sincerely though with decreasing conviction, that she'd only done this by accident- because Anastasia did not look very happy. This was supported too, by the girl in the dress eventually clearing her throat at the two.

"I fear you've positioned yourself quite recklessly, Chad. Surely no gentleman would want to miss the opportunity of a view such as the one behind you."

Scott smiled at the two of them as best he could, though his face was letting him down. This again? Really? Scott tried hard to think of what could've brought these two friends of his to dislike each other so much, but couldn't put his finger on it for the life of him. He was eventually inclined to dismiss the whole mystery as due only to the fact that "girls will be girls", but felt that, judging by this particular situation, he supposed he couldn't.

That, and he knew better.

"...Turn back around." he said, a little quieter this time. Scott realised perfectly well that not everyone had grown up with the same 14 rules on how to stand properly told to them every day, like he felt he had, but that didn't mean it wasn't also obvious that Chad was being intentionally impolite to Scott's housemate. Just like Ami had been, that day in the courtyard.

He wouldn't lie and say he was a fan of that behaviour. Nor would his eyes.

Reducio

It was not long that the lioness was sitting alone at the table. @River Dewlight whom she had spotted in the crowd only moments before, approached her.

River started up a conversation with pleasantries which Katrina politely nodded and smiled to, her undertone of wariness pushed down for the moment. “Nice to see you too,” River asked if she could join Katrina and Katrina gestured to the empty table, “Be my guest,”

River was wearing a gorgeous dress and necklace. But it was the Ravenclaw’s hair that caught Katrina’s eye. With a tone of admiration, she spoke up, “I love your hair!”

It seemed like River, like herself, had come alone. Just as that thought crossed her mind, something in the air caught her eye. A flying green blob, who was none other than @Piérre Marchonné crossed overhead. It took her a moment to identify him in the dark skies. A small smirk crossed her face, he certainly knew how to make an entrance.

There was so much going on that the second year was a bit overwhelmed. She kept an eye on the crowd and found herself pressing the locket around her neck so hard that there was an imprint on her fingers. It was a wonderful night, but she couldn’t help feeling that something was going to go terribly wrong.

In order to get her worries out of her mind, Katrina turned back to River, “So, what brings you here tonight?” As soon as the words where out of her mouth she realized that she herself wasn’t very sure why she was there. Katrina wished that there was a chance that the night would just be exciting, but she knew deep down that would not be the case. If she searched inside enough, you would find that she was really there to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. That was the reason her wand was slipped in a hidden pocket on the side of her dress.

Katrina dragged herself out of her thoughts and forced her hand to her side as to prevent the indents in her fingers to not become permanent. Her pensive face turned softer and more friendly as she allowed herself to just enjoy conversation. She could allow herself to worry when something went wrong.

Open to Interactions
Mentioning: Piérre
Interacting With: River
Action: sitting at table talking