Secret Blossom Ball Event Finished

As Wyatt answered him Vincent noticed the boy apparently wasn’t one of many words, if any at all. Vincent admired that, getting straight to the point without elaborating was not something he was very good at. Wyatt apparently was. As he was good at listening as well, judging by the focused gaze he kept aimed at him when he told the story about his first experience with magic. He seemed genuinely interested in Vincent and fascinated by the story. However, Vincent noticed a change in his attitude as soon as he inquired about his dad, if he wasn’t too seriously hurt after suffering a concussion when Wyatt had his first encounter with magic. He noticed the boy was struggling to fight back what seemed to be a laugh. He almost succeeded, but not quite.

A sound, mostly resembling faint snickering, managed to find its way out into the open. Vincent was a bit taken aback by this reaction, not sure what to think of it. Was it something he said that made the boy laugh, was it the fact he had given his father a concussion? Vincent couldn’t tell. Perhaps it wasn’t a laugh at all, perhaps it was just a restrained sneeze or an itch. He decided that would probably be the best explanation as Wyatt swiftly recovered from whatever it was and showed no sign of gloating whatsoever. If anything he seemed to ponder something. Wyatt’s answer supported this theory as he said his father was fine, back at work. Yet he got the impression the boy was a bit too quick with his next question, something the boy seemed to realize himself as well.

“Where did you grow up?”

Vincent took a few seconds to decide what he was willing to share with Wyatt. He was friendly enough, sure, but they had only just met, so it wouldn’t be fair, especially considering the rather difficult start of this conversation, to throw it all out there. On the other hand, it wasn’t exactly a secret his father had died before he even consciously got to know him. Vincent decided to be honest, but superficial and as neutral as possible. No need to add an emotional charge to the story. Smiling fleetingly he started speaking to Wyatt. “I grew up in the Scottish county of Fife, in Dunfermline to be more specific. I have been living with my mother all my life. My father…” Vincent swallowed the lump he suddenly felt in his throat. “I have never known my father. He died when I was only three months old when he fell while hiking in Austria.” Vincent touched the pocket that contained his wallet in which he held the picture with him and his father in it. Apparently his emotions still got the better of him when his father came up in conversation, forcing him to struggle to hold them back. “So I have no idea what it is like to have a dad. Despite all this my life was actually not bad though, between my friends, my hobbies and my mother who I consider a true hero, I had a great time. Until, well, until the invitation to Hogwarts came along and messed up my rather uncomplicated life. I’m still struggling to comprehend all that has happened since.” A smile appeared on his face as he looked at Wyatt. “And where do you come from?”

Katrina lost herself in her thoughts while @River Dewlight talked. It was only after her new friend had stopped talking that she realized she had zoned out. Temporarily caught off guard she smiled and nodded, hoping desperately that was the right response to whatever she had said. Katrina fumbled with her necklace again, this time running her fingers over it rather than pressing it.

Her stomach twisted angerly and she realized that she hadn't even eaten dinner, or lunch for that matter. She had been doing some extra studying for the test in Potions since she would be here tonight. This choice was turning into a deep regret as she heard a muffled growl from her stomach. Katrina looked away as her face reddened in embarrassment.

Her eyes strayed over to the snack table again. She hadn't seen anyone mess with it other than to fill up a plate. The chances of them poisoning the food was incredibly slim. Katrina gritted her teeth in indecision. After much internal debate, her cramping stomach won.

"Hey River, I think I'm gonna get some food. You're welcome to join me if you'd like, I'll be right back after if you don't,"

Katrina left the table and wove through the crowd. As she walked, she tried to make a mental list of each student. The ones she didn't recognize, she attempted to put to memory, what color dress or tux, noticeable features. The students she did recognize, whom there were very few of, Katrina waved or smiled at, adding them to her mental list. A wave to @Saskia Nicholson, a nod to @Rafael D'Spacito, each person added increased the weight of her mind. She couldn't let anything happen to those who she knew.

It was a comforting sight as she recognized a few prefects in the crowd. Those would be the ones that would help everyone out of this mess if something went down. Both Gryffindor prefects had come, @Griseldis Edelhardt and @Xailah Alptraum. That alone took a lot of worry off her back, at least they were in good hands for once. Katrina had seen both on occasion taking on their role as Prefect.

Katrina finally reached the snack table and she took a plate in one shaky hand. Hopefully she wouldn't regret this. She grabbed a small bit of veggies (like anyone would tamper with those), and a mini cupcake, it had been far too long since she had indulged in muggle treats.

The lioness began returning to the table when she realized that she was all turned around. The 12-year-old had been so preoccupied in cataloging attendees that she had lost herself. Katrina scanned the crowd and pushed her way to one side. River was nowhere to be seen. She should be there, or over there.

Finally, Katrina spotted their table and sat down. She picked at her plate and went over the list in her mind. Sometimes it was super handy to have ridiculous memory. Katrina mentally sorted the list into each house and created a separate list for those who she knew. So far she had seen: Thora, Bridget, River, Saskia, Rafeal, and Pierre. Those were the names that mattered most. The rest got sorted away in case she needed them later.

The lioness grabbed a baby carrot stick and munched realizing that she had done nothing so far besides talk. No dance, no date. Well, the growing dread in her stomach certainly kept her from enjoying herself. Again, her mind reeled through the list of names and faces. Hopefully she could do something to help soon.

Open to Interactions
Mentioning: A bunch of people
Interacting With: River
Note: To everyone I mentioned, just acknowledging you, no pressure to mention me back I you don't want to
Action: grabbing snacks, returning to table, and thinking

Mentions: @Opeila Seilum, @Rafael D'Spacito, @Willow Anderson

"...to see whose eyes are still following us," Vladimir smiled. A simple enough of an assertion. He gave a smile, it almost looked real. Like he was having a good time, spending the evening with a pretty girl under the stars. Maybe he was, what was wrong with giving his stalkers a hard time?

Nothing at all.

"Although I do find myself rather curious," indeed the young man was making an inquiry. "You accepted my invitation to a ball full of witnesses. Hardly a place to get to know me, my intentions or extract anything from me." He would offer to give her a spin. "It would be utterly foolish for you to accept an invitation to wander off alone, implications of otherwise," not that he would. That is the sort of trap with an obvious bait. "There is almost nothing you can get out of me by accepting this invitation."

He was toying with her, one of the various pleasures intended for this evening.

“HEY, VLADIMIR!”

A sudden shout intended to draw the teen's attention emanated over the crowd. He recognized the caller as Rafael D'Spacito, the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain. Mister popularity himself.

Vladimir would turn and look in the boys direction, well, look over his date's head and raise a single brow.

“YEAH, YOU!”

"It seem's I have a fan," Vladimir chortled as he relinquished his dance partner. "Let's avoid needless bloodshed," if she fell over it would still be better than being the victim of a flying tackle by the Quidditch player. If she stood her ground, he would not take her from her feet but he did not try very hard to ensure her dignity.

How would the boy counter?

“THIS IS FOR POTTER!”

Mod Assistance
Tackle Attempt: Rafa's Acc v Vladimir's Evasion
To hold him down: Contested Strength Check

He would stand his ground and with a clenched fist he would attempt to punch Rafael in his handsome jaw. He did not appear surprised but he also was not aware of where or from whom the attack would originate from. He seemed overjoyed, as if the young man had given the Ravenclaw the greatest gift a man could ever get.

Mod Assistance
Punch Attempt: Vlad's Acc v Rafa's Evasion
Damage: Strength X 25 (only a recommendation)

Willow, his sneaky date would attempt to take Vladimir's bag. She would find it heavy. So very heavy. Unless her strength was over 5, she would not be able to lift the bag from the ground. She would have to drag the bag off. If stronger, more powerful she would be able to heave that bag over her shoulder with perhaps some effort.

Mod Assistance
Does Vladimir Notice? Vlad Wisdom v Willow's Wisdom

Stats:
Human 50 total stat points
STA 10 • EVA 10 • STR 10 • WIS 5 • ARC 5 • ACC 10
Abilities: Not telling yet.

Hearing Vladimir's answer, Opeila just hoped that Flash didn't behave suspicious. She was quite certain by now that Burnett had abandoned them, but Flash would still be watching. She had avoided looking at her friend for a reason.
"Why would it matter? It's not like you are planning to harm me or do anything else that required people to take you down, is it?"

Opeila was proud of the casual tone this words came out with. This did make her very nervous. So he did plan something. If it mattered to him so much, there would be a reason.

He went on asking question and making assumption about her intent. "Hm. That you'd like me to tell you, right?", she just said. She wouldn't, even if she knew what was still going on.
The first year had the very bad feeling, that the plan was off. That people left, except Flash. Most likely. And that Vladimir knew it. He seemed too confident, it made her feel like a stupid little girl, thinking that she could lure him into a trap with a simple plan like this. No way.

A loud voice made her wince. Someone yelled Vladimir's name. A familiar voice, Rafael D'Spacito. When Vladimir relinquished her, she jumped to the side, just at the right time, before the Gryffindor tackled him, yelling that it was for Potter. The Slytherin quickly drew her wand.

Opeila had heard from her housemates that Vladimir and the other two had witnessed Potter murdering Umbridge. Why would Rafael...
Then she saw Willow, the little Hufflepuff, who apparently had her own mission at this ball.
Opeila's eyes widened a little, when she saw Willow attempting to steal Vladimir's bag.

Had she first been almost angry about this, she was now hoping for Willow to succeed. This would be another useful source of information hopefully.
Still, she couldn't risk for Rafael to knock her date out, so she pointed her wand at the Gryffindor. "D'Spacito, I'd appreciate if I didn't have to force you to calm down.", she said firmly.
She remembered back in the common room, where she could only threaten to just try something out with her wand. By now that had changed. Opeila knew enough spells to make him harmless by now.

Interacting with @Vladimir Athanatos @Rafael D'Spacito
Mentioning @Jack Burnett @Flash Holmwood @Willow Anderson

Interacting with: No one
Mentions: Vladimir Athantos | Opeila Seilun | Thomas Lestrange | Marion Davenport | Rafael D'Spacito

Bridget lost sight of Vladimir and Opeila as they disappeared behind the other dancers, adding to her already acute sense of trepidation. Was it on purpose? Could Vlad possibly know they were watching him? The second year had no idea what the Ravenclaw was capable of, but between his greater experience, larger arsenal of spells, and the factor of mystery, she wasn't about to underestimate him.

Her next move was the obvious, logical one--she had to move so she could see the pair. Without a partner, Bridget wasn't about to waltz onto the dance floor. That would be much too suspicious, and if Vlad was already on edge, he would definitely notice. Luckily, Vlad wasn't hard to spot, being taller than many of the other students. It took a bit of weaving through the crowd around the dance floor, but Bridget regained sights on Opeila and her dancing partner. Meanwhile, around her things started to heat up. Out of the corner of her eye, it looked like Marion had thrown some sort of liquid on Thomas and then tried to slap him. Mind you, that was really on Thomas for approaching the girl when Marion obviously held a combination of fear and hatred for him. And then... someone was yelling. At Vladimir. Turning to the source of the noise, Bridget couldn't help but groan. It was the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain charging for the Ravenclaw. Opeila side-stepped in time, but it was really the fight between the two boys she was concerned about now. If the Quidditch game had proven anything, the Gryffindor was more than willing to take someone out, and if Vlad was as dangerous as she feared, things weren't going to go well.

Her fingers curled up, ready to pull her wand from where it was stored rather uncomfortably in her jacket's sleeve. There was no need to aim it at anyone just yet, but she wanted to be ready. With Vladimir's attention now elsewhere, Bridget decided a few steps closer to the scene couldn't hurt. And, again, here she was. Just a bystander. Sure, if things turned really ugly, she would step in, cast a few spells, but for now it was the same old thing--observation, mental preparation. Nothing more. How long until she did have to intervene, though?

Outfit | Broom: Nimbus 1700

Interacting with @Vincent d'Arque

Wyatt noticed Vincent’s hesitation when he asked the blonde Eagle where he came from. After a moment, he started speaking. “I grew up in the Scottish county of Fife, in Dunfermline to be more specific. I have been living with my mother all my life. My father…” Vincent swallowed. Wyatt looked at him with sympathy in his eyes. He assumed the worst, and hoped he wasn’t right. “I have never known my father. He died when I was only three months old when he fell while hiking in Austria. So I have no idea what it is like to have a dad.” Wyatt was, unfortunately, right. Though Wyatt couldn’t possibly feel the pain that Vincent felt, he understood completely. Wyatt’s dad was physically there until he was 10, but for all those years, he was a barbaric parasite. Wyatt never, and would never know what it would be like to actually have a father. Wyatt felt like throwing up as he relived the memories of the time before his father left. The yelling... the one-sided fighting... Vincent's voice brought him back to reality.
“Despite all this my life was actually not bad though, between my friends, my hobbies and my mother who I consider a true hero, I had a great time. Until, well, until the invitation to Hogwarts came along and messed up my rather uncomplicated life. I’m still struggling to comprehend all that has happened since.” After all that, Vincent… smiled? Wyatt stared at him in awe. Vincent was so brave, he was able to control his emotions without being wildly closed off like Wyatt had been all his life. He wanted to say something reassuring, but he was in no place to, as he’d only met the boy minutes ago.

“And where do you come from?”

“I’m from Cokeworth, England. Old factory town… not many people live there anymore… I think my mother’s a hero too. She’s sacrificed so much for me- and my father.” Wyatt didn’t want to elaborate. He felt he’d let information about his dad slip if he kept talking. Information he didn’t want to share. Wyatt felt like he owed her the world, she really had given up a lot for her son. She had a half-blood baby and gave up the financial freedom her parents used to supply her with. She had to work several jobs at a time to support the family, after that. She was even going to be a professional quidditch player before she had Wyatt.
She was truly his hero.

So far so good. The evening had actually been going rather well. Even with the twelve-year old's anxiety flickering on and off as she had waited for her date to show... was he a date? Lark quickly looked the boy up and down out of the corner of her eye as they finally reached the edge of the dance floor, trying to gauge his reaction still and waiting his reply. Wistfully the girl's eyes floated out to the crowd in front of them. Last Ball had not gone so well... at least by her expectations of balls and what she read in books. There had always been dancing and the possible chance of some drama happening. Yet, that had been far from reality she quickly learned. 'At least this time things are going better..' She thought as she noticed a handful of familiar faces in front of her. Lark's arm tightened around AJ's as she continued to watch the others laughing and twirling, only a couple appeared to be anxious.. Particularly one boy Lark had only been briefly familiar with a handful of times, Flash. Clearing her throat, the young Ravenclaw smiled back up at the kilted lad beside her.

"Can't be any worse than-" Lark's train of thought was drained at the sound of commotion. Instantly setting her on edge, another squeeze of AJ's arm. Was something going on...? Maybe it was just some arguing... some sort of pre-teen angst, thank you hormones. Craning her head to look past AJ and towards the yelling she caught sight of two, no three girls having a heated exchange. One of which she recognized, Wren. The girl who had taken James' seat in class... then proceeded to be flighty about their assignment. Lark's smile faded as her eyes lowered to a figure on the ground. Could it be? "Gem..?" Her heart hitched into her throat. Why was he on the ground? Why was the one girl holding a wand out at another? Why did this ball have to go badly, again...? Lark peeled her golden gaze from her peers and stared down at the dance floor, her boots barely touching the sides of the makeshift floor. So. Close.

At the sound of more yelling she felt drawn to help her friend. Gem had been like a brother to her and an ear for her troubles over Winter break. Quickly she looked back towards him but others were blocking her vision. A small selfish part of her wouldn't allow her muscles to move, freezing her in her position next to AJ. She wanted to enjoy this dance. The poor girl was torn. Part of her whispering to stay and enjoy herself, Gem could handle himself... The other snapping at her to run to her friend's aid. Subconsciously she pulled herself closer to AJ trying to think over what to do, somehow his presence feeling more comforting than anything else she had experienced in the past couple of months. 'Gem... I'm sorry...' Sending out a tiny prayer for her good friend she silently promised to give a good verbal lashing, if not more, to the person who had laid him out on the floor. But first! She had to do something for herself. Maybe it had been a small bead of jealousy that had been born after her baby brother's appearance into the world and how had family had cast her aside... urging her to do for herself... For once.

"Ahl'right mister MacAllister, show me your moves."

Just this once.
Or so she thought-

Actions : DANCING GOSH DARNIT ALL

༺Outfit for the Evening༻

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Interacting with @Flash Holmwood and @Rafael D'Spacito
Mentioning @Willow Anderson @Opeila Seilun and @Vladimir Athanatos

Ruka's eyes were so drained on all the people around the ball, there was one person in particular that didn't get half the attention he deserved, and that was Flash himself.

Flash, who had so openly asked for Ruka's help, had reached out for his interest, and all the Gryffindor had really been focusing on was figuring out this puzzle, this mission that was nothing but a mystery to him. A riddle to solve. He felt bad about it the second his eyes landed on his dancing partner again just to muster the vulnerable expression on his face. The happy, carefree act was cracked, easy to look through, especially for Ruka who was so close to him it was almost uncomfortable.

"If you like messy," Ruka said carefully, bestowing Flash with his whole attention at least for a moment. "You should like me a lot more than you do." He chuckled lightly, shaking his head to himself. There was no doubt in his mind that Flash thought of him as nothing but a misanthropic, stubborn brat who didn't care who he hurt with his words. It wasn't like Ruka had ever really displayed a different side of himself to the Slytherin; The few instances they had been alone together had surely resulted in at least Flash's bruised ego, and even tonight he had left the Slytherin's best friend behind for the sake of involving himself in a mystery that was nothing to do with him. What else was Flash possibly supposed to think of him?

"I don't hate you," he added to his little insight on what he thought people was like, answering Flash's question on whether he hated people or not in yet another way he assumed had been neither wanted nor needed. Ruka still felt the urge to clarify. "I wouldn't be here right now if I did." No matter how intriguing the situation may have been, there was no way Ruka would have stuck around if he even had an inkling of hatred for the other boy.

Discomfort? How could he not feel at least slightly unsettled and uncomfortable after the last time they had met?
But hatred? No, only intrigue. Pity maybe. A sense of kinship in the way they both seemed to strive for the same things through vastly different methods.

He's just lonely and scared...like the rest of us.

Jack's voice echoed through his head like a mantra as Ruka looked at Flash, looked for the loneliness in his eyes that connected them all somehow. Strange how they were all suffering together and yet couldn't shake that feeling of being so utterly alone.

Before Ruka could say anything else however, his eyes fell on two people he had completely neglected keeping an eye on, and while Rafa was no surprise, who would have really expected Willow of all people to be the Wild Card of the evening?

Ruka watched in horror as Rafa darted for Vladimir like a bull towards a red cloth, his voice roaring through the masses while Willow seemed to be trying to get a hold of Opeila's date's bag. Was this part of the plan Ruka hadn't quite figured out yet? Because if so it was dreadfully stupid, which was the first clue he took to decide that this was Rafa and Willow's doing alone. Whatever plan Flash was following, it seemed to be something worked out mostly by Slytherins, and they weren't exactly known for using such straight forward aggression to achieve their goals.

For a second, Ruka was tempted to just let it happen, to let a fight break out - Vladimir was clearly ready to counter Rafa's attack with his own - but there was one factor that he couldn't help but consider in all of this: Opeila.

The girl was right there, next to someone who was talking like he had selfish motive for inviting her to the ball that had nothing to do with romantic interest, potentially in the line of a tackle attack that could easily hurt her one way or another. He wanted to say it was genuine worry for Opeila's safety that made him draw his wand, rather than just instinct, but he wasn't sure exactly how true that was.

Pulling himself out of Flash's embrace, Ruka placed himself right in front of the Slytherin as if to keep him safe from any repercussions, which was more than ridiculous considering the fact that Ruka was almost a head shorter that the other boy, small and scrawny, but his instinct apparently also included keeping Flash safe as best as he could. "Immobulus!" he yelled, wand flicking in Rafa's direction mid tackle to try and stop the attack before it could result in physical violence.

"You brainless imbecile," he would sneer in Rafa's direction whether the spell was going to hit or not, white hot rage coursing through his body as his mind reeled with all the possible disastrous outcomes this hot tempered, impulsive, clearly not very planned out attack could have for anybody nearby. With his free hand, Ruka reached back to clasp it around Flash's wrist as if to prevent him from doing something stupid like throwing himself in the middle of the action like some kind of heroic sacrifice.

The last thing they needed was more people putting themselves in harm's way.

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Stats
Stamina: 7 ~ Evasion: 8 ~ Strength: 4 ~ Wisdom: 8 ~ Arcane Power: 6 ~ Accuracy: 7

Abilities
The Muggle Condition

Outfit Reference
Top

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Jeans

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Shoes

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|Action|
Attempting to cast Immobulus on Rafa

Interacting with @Xailah Alptraum, @Breana Oliveire
Mentioning @Rafael D'Spacito, @Vladimir Athanatos, @Ruby Cazares

Xailah's grim determination was matched by that gentle perseverance. It was perfectly possible that the boy didn't grasp the brevity of their situation, that he was in for a nasty shock, or perhaps he was painfully optimistic. Whatever the case may be, the way she approved of Peri's plan in the end was a comfort. They made to leave the dance floor with exchanged nods and linking arms. A sound caused them pause, Pericles turning towards it with wide eyes, though the look softened once he spied its source. His companion's complaint was given a mellow smirk, a goading expression which seemed to say without words, Come now. "I think it's fascinating," he murmured in passing, trying to turn the topic light. "A raw sound of happiness, like a primal jubilation, and coming from my mark no less! We oughtn't be long, but I think I'll sneak in one last dance. We'll have found you before you know it." Her tolerant shoulder pat had his nose scrunching in that boyish way, and with a wink and a nod, they were off to their individual objectives.

The only formality which the pureblood boy expressed were those he was raised with, matters of habit: straight spine, controlled gait, though the composed expression was instead replaced by beaming. Distracted from thoughts of hags and spiders by an innocent happiness, Pericles bobbed his head with an apologetic smile, saying "Sorry- didn't mean to sneak up on you." He took his time appreciating her gown, seeming all the more interested upon hearing it was a touched-up heirloom, sleepy eyes trailing over the sleeves and layers. "Mine is, well...." It was not exactly something his father had worn, but then, his family didn't keep sentimental clothing outside of old pocket watches and signet rings. Fingertips touched to the crest on his pocket, then epaulet tassels wobbled with a shrug of the shoulders. "Family formals. I don't think I'd be allowed to alter them, but I quite like the sleeves you've added to yours. It's very elegant."

Before his ancestors had time to roll over in their graves, the Dralt heir was doing the Macarena.

"I've never heard of such a dance!" Pericles exclaimed, roused from his sleepy state while methodically mimicking Breana, following step by step, grinning goofily. "Is it Spanish? It's been almost two years since last I visited Spain, but the pronunciation sounds Spanish." He stuck his hands on his hips, muttering with muted delight, "How exotic...." The lad did not take himself overly serious. There was no reason to here, among his peers, where he was finally free to be his age. His laughter came as quiet snickers that slipped out around his words. "Thank you for that... I'll have to practice so as not to forget it, but I think I'll save that for another time. Would you care to share a more common dance, Brea?" Offering out a palm, Peri would pull them into position for a slow dance, something more suited to the Arts & Orchestral Society's performance. His personality shone through steady pacing, carefully thought-out steps, and a grip soft enough to exude relaxation while still firm enough not to slip. Daydreamy, but not vacant. Planned, but not rigid. All the while he considered the curls of her hair and the flower pinned in it, quiet for a time as they started to step in swirling circles. Satisfaction smoothed his freckled face. "Did I mention I really like your hair? I might've already...." Eventually, he remembered meeting eyes was a thing, silvers sliding down with a blink. Pericles smiled and drew breath, on the brink of saying something more, when their sappy swirls were cut short by a shout. A shout of "Vladimir".

In a "normal" situation, this would be his call-to-arms as a prefect, but there was a reason Pericles had wanted the Martial Arts Club to help keep the peace tonight. Those lazily lidded eyes of his flashed to life and flicked for the shouter, none other than Rafael, a boy he believed to be in one of the higher grades. He hastily hooked the hand on Breana's waist, mumbling with a whisper just shy of tense, "I think it's time to find that 'strength in numbers' we discussed. This way." Free hand on the hilt of his wand, the boy began to steer them swiftly from the floor, gaze darting among the masses until they spied Xailah and Ruby once more. Shouting broke out behind them. He hastened, pulling his dance partner along securely, a frown marking his mouth and lining his brow with a crease of concentration.

Action: Dancing with Breana. Leaving the dance floor before the scuffle starts. Rejoining Xailah and Ruby.

OOC permission granted to move Breana

Interactions: @Xailah Alptraum, @Ruby Cazares
Meantions: the fight, @Pericles Dralt, @Breana Oliveire

Intentful eyes kept vigilance over the proceedings of the party, mindlessly picking and playing with her food, only ever once in a while popping a blueberry in her mouth or having a bite of strawberry, though she'd yet to touch her chalice of whatever it might've been in her cup. At least for now everything seemed to be going as pleasantly as it could be. Students laughed and danced and conversed; having a rare moment to just be carefree students and children, like they were always meant to be.

Her solitude was only broken when she heard her name being called. Tearing her gaze away from her view, she found Xailah calling over to her. Pale eyes flickered back to her self imposed post before she rose from her seat, abandoning her picked over snack and starting over to the pair, "Evening." she offered a small smile, more so out of politeness then anything. The young snake certainly had tried to keep her direct socializing to a minimum since the Slytherin attack, still baring the curse plainly on her skin that marbled her arms and shoulders and climbed up her neck and over her cheek like bleeding ink. All the same, she did her best to act as though she wasn't even aware of the branding as Xailah introduced her to the Prefect, "I'm familiar." she spoke as she gave the other girl a polite nod. Naturally she knew her own Prefect, though she certainly wouldn't say she knew the other girl personally.

Introductions would have to wait as her ear was caught by something more pressing to her; a fight was breaking out, "For the love of Merlin..." she muttered, her hand instinctively falling into the pocket of her dress and wrapping righting around her wand. This certainly wasn't the first time an all out brawl had broken out at a school event; by this point she was pretty sure it was a school tradition. However, she certainly wasn't about to stand by again... not like the Masquerade where she allowed herself to be overwhelmed, and not like when her house was attacked and she was down for the count in moments, unable to help anyone, not even herself.

From the trouble, she saw the familiar face of Pericles and a girl coming from the dance floor to join the little group. Standing there made Illowy antsy though as she bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, debating with herself as to whether go and try to help break up the fight, or see if the boys came to their senses and stopped of their own accord.

Action: Joins the group with Xailah and watches on at the fight, contemplating intervening