Changing Rooms || Secret Blossom Ball Event Fin

@Alan Vanes @George Henry @Jack Warren @Vladimir Athanatos @Solomon Lear

Jake nodded his head as George spoke the answer he should have always known he would hear. Maybe he did always know. But when he was scared, it was like he never knew even the things he knew. They were always replaced by the thought of the bad things that might happen instead. He still felt a little better hearing him say it. He would try not to ask again, but he probably would later. He felt the sudden urge to hug his dorm-mate but did his best to resist, knowing that George didn't really like when he did that when others were watching. Resisting had been really hard lately.

Alan's arrival was right on time. Jake looked up and saw the older boy dressed in a dazzling red. The color may have been different, but everything else was very familiar, and upon recognizing it Jake beamed. "Hey Alan!" the younger boy chirped, approaching the older boy and looking up at him proudly. They were a perfect match except for the different colors, and that Jake's own tie had been made into a bowtie. A mini-me of Alan, and he wanted to show it off. He stood up tall so Alan could take in his outfit. It was the last bit of happiness he'd have for a while.

A stranger approached then. An older boy that Jake had never seen before, with his eyes directly on Jake. Jake felt his pride die away quickly, and his stance shifted to wary...bringing Freddie to his chest. He eyed the gloved hand that extended toward him. His eyes shifted to the side but George had walked to Alan. Jake looked down, his cheeks a little red. Talking to strangers was really hard lately. He really wanted George to swoop in and do the talking. The stranger asked if Jake minded coming with him, and Jake tried hard to not show the small swell of fear that he felt when he did. Nothing on Earth could take Jake away from his friends tonight.

"Um, I don't know..." Jake said shyly, looking up at the boy...when suddenly he felt a clap on his back and let out a startled yelp. His eyes flickered up to see the grinning face of one of his best friends, Jack. Normally the sight of the boy in his splendid pink suit would have had Jake in a fit of giggles, but today he saw his face not his suit. He drew closer to his friend until their sides touched. George and Jack and he were together now, and Alan as well, and he didn't want that to change for the rest of the night.

As George began to approach to ask Jake if he knew the strange new fellow, the littlest Scamander boy heard a voice that he hadn't heard in a long time.

"Jake..."

"JAKE!"

"No..." he uttered. George would likely think he was answering his question, but Jake was speaking to someone else.

"Jake, run!"

It was a command, not a suggestion. Jake's eyes flickered instantly to the doorway.

"Run! Not to the fields! Not to the pitch!"

Then where! His face turned in panicked confusion.

"Run Jake! Open them and run!"

Open what! Jake felt his eyes filling with tears.

"The bludgers boy. The bludgers! Do it now boy! Release them and then-- to the pitch. To the stands. Get away! IT. IS. Coming!"

A whimper escaped Jake's lips as he brought Freddie to his face. The command was urgent - more than he had ever heard it before. It yelled with a ferociousness that dwarfed him. His heart was pounding. He couldn't ignore it if he tried - it pierced through his consciousness and made his head rattle and ache. His ears strained waiting for the sounds of what he didn't even know - footsteps, roars, a crackle of fire. His eyes flickered to every corner and doorway. He felt trapped.

He couldn't take anymore.

He took another step backwards.

"Something bad is gonna happen," he uttered in a hushed tone, not knowing what he spoke of, but his voice a certainty. His eyes were up to George and Jack. Pleading eyes. Desperate eyes. The yelling in his head was getting louder. It was going to break his brain. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Stop it, stop it, make it STOP!" he pleaded, tears rolling down his cheeks. If it didn't he was gonna go insane. He couldn't take it anymore. "Pleaaaaase stop it," he begged - to the air, to George, to Jack, to Alan, to anyone. He was still leaning on Jack. He was frail...frailer then he'd been before. The past few weeks had not been kind to him.

He could tell them. He could tell them everything. The thought made the words want to pour out of him. It had been so long since he'd been free. He wanted to grab George and Jack and pour his heart out. To give in to the tears and to his friends and take the burden off of his shoulders and let them carry it. He needed to tell them. He couldn't deal with it alone anymore. There would be consequences, they would be hard, but the problem had only gotten bigger and he didn't know what to do. They would hate him for not telling. They might not want to talk to him.

But maybe it would stop.

The voice cut in and its fear was his fear. He needed to run. He needed to run as fast as he could. They all did.

Bludgers, bludgers, Quidditch balls, the brown ones. He learned it for mascotting from Ruthie. They were somewhere. Where? But they were on the Quidditch pitch. They were inside so...here? His eyes darted around the room.

"Bludgers," he muttered, his eyes worn down and distant. He turned and tried to run.

[font="Monotype Corsiva"]Interacting with @Jake Morris and @Jack Warren[/font]

[font="Monotype Corsiva"]"I know I know I know. But not this time Irene. Please not this time. I promise you next time I go out you can come." Quinn had everything ready he just needed to get going now. He could do his hair in the changing rooms. But what was holding him back was the protesting and whining feline goddess that was Irene. She hated being separated from him and like always it was a chore to get her to comply, but this time he had a plan. A good plan. "Tell ye what Irene." He leaned in close to her hair and whispered something.

Whatever it was got her all excited and jumpy. With a large smile on his face he spent another 2 minutes petting and scratching her in her favorite spots before kissing her forehead and bidding her farewell. "I'll tell Nico you said hi." The most notable thing as he walked out with attire in hand, and bag in the other. Was that he appeared to be talking in near perfect english with his accent barely filtering through. It was a bit astonishing considering most times he didn't bother hiding it.

After a bit of a walk, passing many students who gawked at his immense height. He located the quidditch pitch and carefully navigated his way into the boy's section of the changing room which admittedly was a bit cramped. He was after all 7'8" and continuing to grow, quickly at that. Unzipping his suit bag, he got undressed and slipped into his form fitting suit. The white, dress shirt with the goldenrod solid colored tie a great contrast to the dark, rich navy blue of his suit. He had a fine, simple dressy watch of similar color scheme from versace on his wrist. A gift from his late-mentor Brannigan. Lastly he put on his new maronne colored, cap toe shoes from Paul Cagney.

Looking in the mirror he straigtened his tie, smoothed out any wrinkles and lastly combed his hair. Glad that he managed to find someone in hogsmeade willing to trim up his hair nicely. Like a proper gentleman he sprayed a bit of cologne and packed up his things putting them neatly in a nearby corner that was available. "Just don't mess up. You're gonna have fun this time." He told himself in the mirror emerald-blue eyes alight with glee and joy.

The massive Hufflepuff stepped out of the dressing rooms. He thought about grabbing his broom but with its large size and cumbersome nature he thought against it. Instead he opted to leave his wand in the hidden inner pocket of his jacket. Out of sight and seamless. He was determined to make this ball one of joy and fond memories.

At least he was until he was snapped out of his concentration and thought by suddenly yelling. Quickly scanning the room he soon pinpointed the source and walked over to it his brows furrowing into one of concern. "Jake? What's wrong with him? Is he okay?" He looked down at the scared baby badger right as he made an attempt to run, which so happened to be in the direction that Quinn was unintentionally blocking.[/font]

ACTION: entering the changing rooms ATTIRE: click!

Icarus often questioned the positions he let himself get into, even after almost a full year at Hogwarts. Here he was, a boy of five foot, five inches, crouching painfully low to the ground to avoid being seen as he crept out of the Slytherin common room and out the castle doors. It was rather silly to see the posh lad scurrying across the Hogwarts grounds like a rat in the sewer. With every footstep he took, a squelch followed as the mud clung to his once-pristine ebony oxford shoes, giving away his position to keen ears that might be listening. As far as Icarus could tell, he was alone as he stalked across the ground, his shadow behind him the only companion until he reached the Quidditch pitch. The discomfort was secondary, of course. His curiosity drove him forward, to what extent was unknown. The only sensation he gave a thought to was a small case of brilliant eyeshadow as he slipped it into the breast pocket of his sweater vest. The faint light illuminating the Quidditch pitch was a welcome sight, as Icarus' vision had been bathed in darkness for several minutes as he blindly stumbled across mud and wet grass. Had the blossom ball not been cloaked in secrecy, his poor shoes wouldn't have been a casualty to the onslaught of mud and scuff marks from rocks he occasionally brushed against.

...perhaps his shoes wouldn't be the only casualty of the night. He wasn't a superstitious boy, but he couldn't deny the chill that ran up his spine and exited out his fingers as he curled and uncurled them to shake the feeling away. There was a reason why students were bound to their rooms during the night and it lingered around the ancient castle like a heavy, dense fog. The secrets and rumors that were whispered in the halls began to intrude his mind and for the first time since he stepped outside the supposedly safe walls of Hogwarts, Icarus felt doubt and perhaps a hint of fear souring his mood. Just as he did when he was merely the age of six, the Slytherin first year thumbed the hem of his robe nervously and bit into his mauve lips until the bitter tang of blood mixed in with the mint from his toothpaste.

If the Quidditch pitch was to be his grave, dug deeper and deeper by curiosity, he wouldn't be caught dead in these mud-splattered shoes, that's for sure. Pushing away the creeping fear from his mind, Icarus adjusted the bag that hung from his shoulder and slipped into the changing rooms to exchange the once-ebony shoes for a hazy green pair. The Slytherin shouldered off his school robes, revealing the intricate three piece suit that had been obscured to prevent rising suspicions from those who would snitch for a sickle. It was an iridescent green and if under the right lighting, perhaps a hint of purple could be found woven in as well. Grabbing the knot of his tie, Icarus switched from the familiar Slytherin colors to a slightly more adventurous green and gold paisley tie. When the boy looked in the mirror, a scowl furrowed his brows together as he tried to adjust his outfit which was rather snug, having grown an inch or two since he first stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express. Thankfully, it didn't look as awkward as Icarus had thought, but that certainly didn't stop him from fussing about every little detail. After adjusting his tie for what seemed like the fiftieth time in the span of the few minutes he spent in front of the mirror, the boy was finally satisfied with his appearance. From the neck down, that is.

His hair, now slightly curled the longer it escaped being cut by shears, was tousled in a way that softened the Slytherin's scowl into a boyish pout. Had his mother seen what had become of his military-esque haircut she sent him on the train with, she'd surely faint into the arms of his nagging father. Of course, the hair would be the least shocking to his dear parents when they find out their son had accentuated his hazel eyes with a brilliant sapphire that rivaled the peacock feather tucked in his lapel. Sure, his mother had used powder to cover up the occasional splotch on his face, but never ventured further than that. But Icarus was never one to simply walk into a room. No, he had to make an entrance and nab the spotlight, willing to fight whoever tried to hang onto it. The sapphire eyeshadow stretched from inner corners of his eyelid to his high cheek bones, making the boy look more like a bird of paradise than the scowley Slytherin behind the glitter and a smirk that curled his lips upward to reveal his teeth. Despite the lack of tools, Icarus was an innovator and the end result didn't look too gaudy. After doing one last check in the mirror, the boy ventured out of the boy's changing rooms to make his way towards the main area of the quidditch pitch.

ACTION: leaving for main area

- Interacting with @Aurelia Notrésvace-

Lydia couldn't wrap her head around how easily she blushed every single time that Aurelia would call her pretty, or beautiful; she couldn't help it, the other girl's blue-grey eyes locked with her green ones in the mirror, and as she spoke, Lydia could see her cheeks becoming red once again.
The fire on her skin grew even bigger when Aurelia asked her who her date was; it wasn't a secret that she had gone there with Rafael, but the idea of saying it out loud, to someone she barely knew, made her feel kind of exposed, vulnerable.

"Oh it's okay! He is a Gryffindor boy, the Captain of the Quidditch team, Rafael D'Spacito? I don't know if you know him," Lydia answered, as a soft smile spread over her lips, her mid wondering where the boy was in that moment. Was he looking for her? Or maybe he hadn't arrived yet at the Ball?

The moment that Aurelia casted the spell, the red headed girl observed how her hair twirled in the air, creating an incredibly pretty braid around her head, where she knew that some flowers would have just looked perfect. They looked incredible, even better than before, her hair falling lightly over her shoulders in small waves.

Then, the colour started changing.

For a brief second, the Hufflepuff girl wanted to scream. Her beautiful strawberry blonde hair started turning blue, darker at the root and lighter at the tips; she was pretty sure that was not supposed to happen, since she doubted that the Gryffindor girl had decided on purpose to change her hair colour.

"What the..." Lydia started saying, as she turned her head left and right to observe her new hair colour. She needed to remain calm and not freak out, after all Aurelia said there was a counter spell. But the more she looked at her reflection in the mirror, the more those lovely blue shades started to look good; blue had always been a colour that had looked amazing with her skin tone and her hair, and she had several pieces of clothing in that colour.

"I...I think I like them this way," she told Aurelia as she examined them some more, their blue shades going perfectly with her dress. "Maybe I could keep them like this for the night? And tomorrow you could change them back to normal, if you're okay with that?" Lydia asked Aurelia as she turned towards her. She gave her a smile, trying to reassure her that she was not upset. "Could you also help me with putting some flowers on them? I think they would look so good with them!"

Lydia's new hair style

Reducio

A bit of a distant look in his eyes, Vladimir was always good at multitasking. "We should spend some quality time together. Be friends." His voice and face cordial seeming, there was a sixth sense perhaps in the boy that screaming something else.

The boy was in a panic, but Vladimir had done nothing to the boy yet. He just stood there, laughed a little at the absurdity as a very ugly little girl (George Henry) came to Jake's side. That was about the caliber their kind would normally attract, how he landed a girl like her was beyond him but that girl was not too bright.

"Jake, is this your friend?"

"Wait, what?" Vladimir uttered, his eyes widened a bit with surprise. "No. No I am not. I uh--" he eyed the midget. "Guess I got the wrong goblin," he coughed into the side of his hand. "My apologies ma'am," she sounded like a little boy and kinda looked like one too. Vladimir backed away from Jake. "I am looking for a new friend I was hoping to meat," he let out a little laugh at his own joke.

"In any case, have a good time all of you," he would give them a gracious bow. "But you're not the ones I want and I am certainly not the one any of you need."

He would eye the door. He had left his date waiting. Little bookish snake girl if he recalled correctly. The one that had let him into their dorms, well his works into the dorms at the very least. She had a role to play this evening, one that she like any snake she would try to control. They all did, he counted on that. He was well aware of Slytherin's growing interest in his comrades -- Marion and Victor. He was well aware of the Gryffindor clubs. All these pieces put into perfect place, all they had to do not was act on it.

Leaving for the dancefloor.

The booming voice inside his mind. The voice that none but the Hufflepuff boy could hear. It did not stop calling out to him. It urged him still to unleash the chaos. To ride the anarchy that would follow. To understand and follow the first and only principle he should follow - survival. Something that the boy seemed to naturally lack. He seemed to have no instinct. No drive. No power. No want. He merely existed, dependent and small. Satisfied to be these things.

If he did not change, he would soon be dead.



The voice urged.



Through him, but he was so big.



He could not stop him with those large, grasping hands. That clumsy, massive form belonged to none other than Quinn Healy. Part-giant, wall of flesh and bone. Of muscle and power. But not necessarily brain, rather brawn. But would he stop Jake? Could he? Even if he could, would he be willing to hurt him. It was easy to harm an enemy. To act out in rage. There was no rage here.



The voice continued to urge him, like the beat of a drum only he could hear. Like a song only he knew the words of. It could not control his movements. It could not give him the sense of urgency but it was carried in the tone. The need. The fear.

Entering from the Quidditch Stands.

Wearing:

Reducio

When Jack arrived back at the changing rooms, he hurried towards the lockers only to find a familiarly large young man somewhat blocking their path. Was that...Quinn? The Slytherin glanced back nervously over his shoulder to see how close Erin was to him. He hoped she wouldn't try to pick a fight with the prefect. Especially not now when they were on a mission. Maybe they could...squeeze through behind him?

""Erin, would you maybe lead the way from here? I can't navigate the locker rooms like you can. And, even if I could, I still wouldn't know where it is you keep the bludgers."

Time was of the essence. Jack still hadn't seen Opeila or Vladimir whom he had told the others at Opeila's meeting prior that he would keep an eye on. His hope was that, perhaps by releasing the kraken bludgers, the rampant, dangerous, monster balls would scare ball attendees into evacuating the pitch. After all, Jack still remembered the first time he had encountered one of the things while a Gryffindor beater had been practicing with it. If Kyle DeRook hadn't tackled him to the ground at the last second, it could have very well brained Jack.

Jack still had no idea how the ridiculous things had become part of what might have otherwise seemed to be a regular sport (minus the flying broomsticks, of course), but perhaps his actions would give wizardkind a reason to reassess their inclusion in the game. Regardless, if his plan did work, Jack was certain many of his fellow students would be incredibly upset and angry. If Erin or anyone else mentioned that it had been Jack who released the bludgers, the could have even been angry at him.

Unlike Opeila, however, Jack didn't really care too much about the impact that other students' loathing of him might have had on the future of his student career at Hogwarts. In fact, he might have embraced it with as much as he preferred people to loathe or keep away from him. Sure, there was also the fact that there were lives at stake that he might have been saving in the process, but...it wasn't as though Jack was attempting to ruin the party just for their sake. He was far too selfish for that, but...if they just happened to benefit...what was the harm?

"Uh...Quinn?" Jack called with an apologetic smile, trying to catch the prefect's attention before Erin could. "Would you maybe mind moving a bit to the side, please? Just trying to get through, here."

Interacting with: @Erin Ryan & @Quinn Healy
Proximity to: @Jake Morris

She was following Jack to the lockers. For whatever reason he wanted bludgers. If that was what he wanted, that was what he was going to get. She had a basic idea where they were. She was a bit tipsy but far from drunk, just a bit giddy. Her hand rested on the frame of the locker room door but stopped at the threshold.

"Erin, would you maybe lead the way from here? I can't navigate the locker rooms like you can. And, even if I could, I still wouldn't know where it is you keep the bludgers."

He called back to her. Did he just ask her to go into the boy's locker room with him? She gave him a wide-eyed look. "Is this some sort of trap?" She verbalized her thoughts. One wrong look at a shirtless guy and they might have a spat rather than a perfect evening. She recalled his jealousy when she saw Thomas in the Common Room a few months back. An endearing quality that he suddenly seemed to care, but it also brought to surface fear. Fear that she would ruin their night just as it was getting started.

She was also not going to say no.

She stepped in, an infiltrator and she scanned the room. The back corner was likely where they kept them, she never had a use for them outside of a game. Only problem, there was some twitchy kid flanked by a boy in a skirt or a real homely little girl and Jack Warren. Jack Warren, the boy that had an uncanny resemblance at one time to her boyfriend.

"Merlin, it is that freak Jack," Erin announced as she called out Jack Warren. "He was the guy that posed as you at the Masquerade," she explained as she pointed her finger at him. She stared daggers at the freak of a first year. Bygones were most certainly not bygones. She would never get the taste of muggle out of her mouth.

"Got a lot of balls showing up here Jack," Erin's voice lowered as she made her way deeper into the room. The fire whisky was not helping her inhibitions, not that she had many to start with.

Speaking of balls, she needed to get those for her boyfriend.

Only problem, Quinn Healy was in the way. The boy who broke her hand at the very same event she was referring to. Apparently they were friendly. Of course they were.

"Uh...Quinn?"

Jack spoke up before Erin could say anything. Apparently they knew each other. Erin glowered.
"...Careful," she cautioned her boyfriend of the Prefect. She took a step towards him, her massive nemesis. She wanted to start a fight. It was a compulsion. The only problem, her witness. Not that witnesses were a problem generally, just she was trying to hide that part of herself from the boy.

"Would you maybe mind moving a bit to the side, please? Just trying to get through, here."

She took a deep breath, she lacked the sense to back down. Even if she knew she was going to regret it later. She would move in front on Parce (Jack B.) and approach Quinn. She would try to bypass the human barrier. No force. She was going to behave. For now. If he moved or did not prevent her from passing she would worm her way past him.

Attempting to grab the box unless stopped by Jack B. or W., Quinn, Jake, or George.

~ * ~

Interacting with: @Margo White
Mentions: @Illowy Magnard

When Ruby had heard rumours of a student-run Blossom Ball, she had never intended to attend. The professors had cancelled the official ball for a reason. There was a lot of danger in the school right now; it was simply too unsafe for huge gatherings such as balls. All the other ones in recent years had ended in disaster, so why would that change now? It wouldn't, especially not with recent attacks such as the spiders in Slytherin. Students continued to have more reasons to be traumatised, yet they couldn't seem to accept something that was for their own safety. The cancellation was meant to help prevent attacks and danger…

She was in half a mind to alert a professor about it, but she wouldn't. If anyone found out it was her, she would be hit with severe backlash. Besides, perhaps they'd learn a lesson if they didn't get a professor's help and had to deal with whatever went wrong by themselves. She had received a letter from her parents that said… to go? Her insufferable brother must have mentioned the event and the opportunities it presented—probably some nonsense about mingling with purebloods and upholding the honour of the family name. She wanted nothing to do with it.

She would have disobeyed them and stayed in her dormitory all night if it weren't for her close friend insisting that she go. Margo was stubborn and she wouldn't listen to Ruby's repeated statements about the lack of safety. The prefect had tried desperately to convince her, but when it had failed, she had resigned herself to joining her at the ball. Margo was clearly going to go anyway, so Ruby would do what she could to try to protect her. She had had dinner and then got changed, pulling her robes over her outfit before lingering in the common room. Was this really the best idea?

Margo entered the room and apparently she was hearing none of it, dragging Ruby out of the chair. She groaned in protest but didn't put up any resistance, allowing her friend to drag her down to the Quidditch Pitch. She had been here many a time as a member of her house's Quidditch team, but never to dance. Trying not to think about it too much, she followed Margo to the dressing rooms. The other Slytherin greeted one of their housemates, Illowy, and Ruby offered a smile and a polite, friendly nod.

She had her outfit on underneath, so she just took off her robe, waiting while Margo got ready. “You look brilliant,” she said with a fond grin when the girl emerged. Margo was certainly one for uniqueness, seeming to personalise everything she got her hands on. The confidence and happiness with which her friend wore the outfit made Ruby forget about the possible dangers for a moment. Maybe this time would be different… maybe things would be okay and everyone could just have a good time. I doubt it, she thought, but smiled at her friend anyway as they exited together. “Have fun. I'll see you later.” Stay safe.

Ruby leaves the changing rooms to go to the main area/Quidditch Pitch

~ * ~

Credit to the lovely Lark Flaer for the graphic.

Serena silently slipped into the girls’ changing room, wearing a blue hoodie with the hood up and some jeans. She set down her bag and carefully slipped the hood off to reveal her long blonde curly hair. Heading towards a mirror, the first-year made sure that each of the sliver stars was still in their correct spots. Satisfied, she walked back over to her bag and opened it. She gently pulled out a beautiful purple ballgown.

Even though Serena told her mother she had no interest in attending any more balls, Sarah Bowen still snuck a dress into her trunk. When Serena first found it in there, she was upset that her mother didn’t listen to her and simply shoved it down to the bottom with a huff. But then word of a Secret Blossom Ball started spreading around. Serena then pulled out the gown and saw that a note was attached.

My darling daughter,
I know that you are afraid of what happened the last time you attended a ball, and I understand. But my dear, you can’t let that stop you from living your life. Be brave, and don’t let fear dictate your life.

I look forward to hearing about your escapades (the good kind),
Mum

Serena had clutched the piece of parchment to her chest and vowed to follow her mother’s advice. And so she decided to attend the ball. But this time Serena wasn’t alone because her friend Damion agreed to go with her. Speaking of which, she needed to go and meet him.

So, her reminiscing done, Serena quickly changed into the dress and put on her sparkly silver heels. Looking in the mirror once more, she smoothed down her dress. Serena looked down and noticed that her hands were shaking. She let out a shaky breath. She was going to be fine. There would be no fires and no half-giants (well, at least no non-student ones). ‘Be brave…’ She thought to herself.

Stepping away from the mirror, Serena shoved her hoodie and jeans back into the bag. Taking a deep breath, she exited the changing room and went to go find Damion.

Changed in Changing Rooms

Entering Main Area of Ball from the Changing Rooms

Leaving This Thread