Welcoming Feast 2026 Official Thread

Mentions - N/A; open to interactions	|	Date - 08/01/26
Location - Campgrounds, Dinner Time	|	WC - 427/200

Outfit

Reducio

It was now evening and time for the Welcoming Feast at camp. When Rain heard about the feast he may have gone a bit overboard but his parents would be immeasurably disappointed if he wasn’t dressed appropriately for the occasion. Making his way to the feast and seeing the students who had arrived Rain knew he definitely was overdressed compared to everyone else. Gulp.

Rain took a moment to take in the area and enjoy the music playing. As he came fully into the area he saw the slips of paper. I must need to take one. Closing his eyes Rain swept his hands over the papers until he felt a small tingle in his hand making him pick a paper up. His read: Ask a member of another department what problem they think your department causes most often. Rain may not be a Seer or have Seer blood but his parents taught him to always trust his instincts and sometimes it was fun to imagine that he had that special ability. In regards to his paper, though, he wasn’t so excited. How am I meant to just find someone to speak to? This camp would be harder than I thought and I haven’t seen any of my cabin mates here yet. Not that it would help because I need to talk to someone from a different department.

After picking his prompt Rain reached his dining table. The decorations were absolutely adorable. Rain recognized a few of the magical creatures acting as candle stands but some escaped his knowledge, which was shocking to him. He’d have to write his parents or ask them once he got home about what the creatures were. Now that he was at the table he realized how hungry he was and went to find the food.

Walking around Rain finally found the buffet and looked at the menu. §Now what do I want to eat? Something with meat, maybe the venison. I also want something sweet after. The cauldron cakes will be good. And the blackberry sage cordial to drink, I think§, Rain hissed under his breath. Deciding that his initial plan for what to eat was good Rain collected what he wanted and made his way back to the table.

Rain knew that he was just finding ways to stall so he wouldn’t have to speak to anyone but he was actually hungry. After I finish eating I’ll find someone to speak to for sure. Hopefully all goes well.

Reducio

§Speaking§: Parseltongue
D&D Den, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures

"Inner stillness is the key to outer strength."

STATS
Stamina ◦ 6 | Evasion ◦ 5 | Strength ◦ 2 | Wisdom ◦ 5 | Arcane Power ◦ 7 | Accuracy ◦ 5

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| Location: Welcoming Feast | Date: August 1^st, 2026 | Word Count: 1458 | Speech #1587A4 | Thoughts #1587A4 |
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Reducio

Henry had spent a good hour... hour and a half... standing in front of a mirror in the cabin, frowning at his reflection. Early perusal of his spellbook had awarded him with spells he wasn't assigned to learn until later this year - ones that would help him less of a fool of himself tonight. It wouldn't do much for the inexpensive nature of his attire, but even with his lackluster sense of style, he realized that a good color scheme could mask a great many fashion-related sins. Not that the spells helped him determine what colors would look best in this particular instance, however he could at least make the neon yellow and white striped shirt clash a bit less horrifically with the formerly white slacks that had - in a recent, unfortunate wash with his mum's new coral hoodie - shifted decidedly towards a splotchy salmon shade of unevenly saturated bespecklement.

In the 60 to 90 minutes, the clothes for which he was the current mannikin passed through at least the same number of color changes. He had a feeling if anyone had witnessed his kaleidoscopic display of the Multicorfors spell, he never would have lived it down. The tip of his new tendrilous willow wand would scarcely leave his person, the hue still midway between one hue and the next, when he'd tap it again and murmur the incantation once again, whatever half-baked notion on what counted as stylish for a Wizarding to-do was currently flitting through a mind not particularly apt for this task.

Eventually, he settled (for the thirteenth time or so) upon a relatively tame black palette with white accents on the vertical stripes running down his shirt, the buttons, and soles, laces, tongue, and heel of his sneakers. The slacks were the same jet shade, and the watch on his wrist gleamed a gunmetal gray and bore a black face. It wasn't a flashy option. Wouldn't draw much notice at all, he was sure. But he was vaguely aware that the shade was quintessential in formal events - at least Muggle ones - hopefully the same would hold true in their magical counterparts. He wasn't exactly posh looking, but hopefully he'd at least manage not to make a fool of himself.

He briefly... VERY briefly... considered using the spell he'd learned to change his hair color as well, now that he'd mostly convinced himself he was happy with his appearance otherwise. His wand's shaft toyed with the short brown strands seated upon his head. Perhaps black as well, to match the rest of his ensemble, but... no, too much black would quite possible tilt the scales away from sophistication and more towards... well... hinting at Declan-levels of emo. A short-lived musing guided his mind towards blond or ginger, he even momentarily allowed his impulsiveness to paint the brown hairs a midnight blue, before rapidly casting an Untransfiguration, swiftly shaking his head back and forth as the filaments returned to their bark brown hue. He didn't hate it, but he decided it was too showy. FAR too showy. At least for such a slight and unassuming twelve-year-old. His wand vibrated in quiet protest, disliking his decision to let the opinions of others dampen his self-expression, but he ignored it.

A glance at the timepiece told him he was very close to being late to the feast, and when he could help it his anxiety vastly preferred if he was early rather than on time, let alone 'fashionably' tardy. He'd sooner not go at all than suffer that unwanted attention. With one final glance at the mirror, he managed to tamp down the impulse to change the color of his garments for the umpteenth time, and sheathed his wand in the holster hanging at his side, the golden glint of his wand's metal hilt would hopefully be a nice addition to the satisfactorily put together outfit. Content, he strode from the cabin and shut the door behind him.

The magnificent strains of harp and piano greeted him as he approached, the golden hour casting a soft, warm pallor upon the world around him. He snatched up one of the offered cards of prompts, twirling it betwixt his fingers in a fidgety gesture, before depositing it into his chest pocket. Less likely to get utterly destroyed between here and the table if he kept it tucked away.

The short boy wove his way through the masses toward the buffet tables. Once his blue orbs took in the actual options being offered to them, his steps faltered, because what on Earth was this? For a kid whose family occasionally had to budget and buy the cheapest possible packaged ramen at the store, seeing a spread that included truly aristocratic offerings, it was more than a little overwhelming. He craned his head back and forth, his brows bunched up at the center.

If we have to pay for all this, all I'll be able to afford are a couple burnt potatoes and particularly wilted asparagus stalks...

Thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case, judging by nobody stopping his peers from loading platters full of whatever they liked. Shyly, he did much the same, joining the queue politely. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, he stepped away with a smaller than average serving of steaming pheasant laden with red wine jus, the accompanying roast potatoes snuggling alongside two dollops of honey-glazed root vegetables, and upon seeing there were yet more of the garlic and rosemary anointed spuds, he amassed more of them into his tuberous army. Along with this, he collected a few of the salmon blinis, just to try them. Pheasant might be as alien to his tongue as penguin would have been, but at least he knew he enjoyed salmon from his family's incredibly rare splurging at the more affordable of Bristol's sushi places, so he had hope this new presentation of the fish would measure up as well. He'd been momentarily tempted by the bell peppers and considered adding one to his plate, however once he saw that they were unfortunately burdened with his mortal enemy, mushrooms, he decided against it. Much to the disdain of his stomach, it seemed as though fungus had infected a great many foods he could have chosen, but at least his distaste made the process of narrowing things down easier.

Alongside the savory gastronomic marvels that didn't threaten to upend his stomach with mycelial malice, he'd placed a ramekin of Blackberry Eton Mess, a dessert for which he was fairly excited. And just to make sure he didn't end up clumsily getting his dinner all over someone, he elected to let Wingardium Leviosa carry his mug of cinnamon cider for him this time.

Ducking and dodging past the folks who'd decided to have their conversations near the food, he "excuse me"-ed and "pardon me"-ed and "dreadfully sorry"-ed himself past the other tables and their milling occupants and over to the black and violet table bathed in candlelight, pausing briefly to gently pat his new buddy Strike on the shoulder as he passed and offered him an encouraging smile. It was nice to see him out here socializing.

Henry found it fairly easy to guess which was where he was meant to find his seat, given the theme of his cabin, just judging by the lockboxes, veils, and constellations. Definitely got across the Department of Mysteries vibe, that is... if a department whose entire deal was people not knowing a bloody thing about it could be said to have any particular vibe at all, this would probably be fairly spot on.

Once he'd settled in and rested his food and drink onto the table, he pulled out his slip of paper from earlier.

Find someone who believes Muggle inventions are useful

As a muggleborn himself, he was rather pleased with that as an option, though he didn't know how easy it might be to find others who shared his sentiment that the prompt he'd grabbed was accurate. As he started to eat, he scanned his gaze across those sharing his table, not speaking quite yet, just... appraising for now. His parents may have sent him here partially to socialize, and he didn't mind doing that - generally speaking - but... well, crowds weren't precisely his cup of tea. And looking back, especially with how his earliest interactions with some of his cabinmates had gone earlier in the day... he wasn't sure he quite had the energy to flounder his way into starting any conversations himself or butting into any that were already started - especially seeing as, one blond Greek boy aside, he'd never said a bloody word to any of the people he'd seen thus far.

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| Interaction: Open; brief interaction with @Strike Allen |
| OOC Notes: Department of Mysteries: Cabin Of Mysterious Badasses (C.O.M.B.) |

| Outfit: ❀·❀·❀| Date: 01. August 2026 | Word Count: 524 |

Lorelei was only slightly disappointed that the boy didn’t seem to fulfill her card. They seemed less like a rigid task and more like a poorly disguised attempt to get the students talking to one another. If that was the point, her card had fulfilled its purpose quite well. Plus, this was interesting information. She’d never met anyone who spoke Greek before, and this boy had really piqued her interest.

He went on to explain his cabin, and the prompt that he had received. Lorelei listened attentively, nodding along as he spoke and waiting until he’d finished before answering. When he was done, she started from his first question.

“I actually speak two languages as well! English, obviously, but also te reo Māori. You probably haven’t heard of it; a lot of people haven’t. It’s the language of Māori people. We’re indigenous to New Zealand and Australia.” This, she hoped, would make sense to the boy. Explaining her Māori heritage was difficult enough without having to explain it from more than 18,000 kilometers away from where her mother had grown up.

“I do go to Hogwarts, though, in case you were wondering. I was born in the UK, my mum’s just from Australia. That’s actually why I joined the international department,” she gestured, offhandedly, to the flags of various nations spread out on the table in front of her. “Well, not because she’s Aussie. I mean, she is Australian, but that’s not why. It’s because we’re Māori. In the non-magical world, indigenous communities are really often overlooked in international policy decisions. The magical world isn’t much better. It’s all very…” She gestured vaguely with her hands, searching for the right word. “Eurocentric. Most of the time, they don’t even acknowledge that different indigenous nations exist. We’re treated like one big group, and even then, we aren’t given much of a voice in decisions that affect us directly.”

Lorelei blushed as she realized she’d been getting louder and louder, carried away by her frustration. She immediately felt guilty about it, especially since the student she was talking to wasn’t even in the International Co-operation department. “Sorry, that was kind of a soapbox. I’m just really passionate about this stuff, is all. You had another question, right?”

She paused, tipping her head back slightly and looking upward as though searching her memory for the other question. “Oh! The magical creature. Definitely a boggart. Mostly because I have no idea what it would turn into, and I really don’t want to find out what my biggest fear is that way.”

With the questions answered, Lorelei slid her plate of food back in front of her and began to eat. With a mouth partially full of food, she asked Strike, “You said your dad picked your cabin. Why did he want you in the Department of Mysteries? Does he work for the ministry? Also, are you from a wizarding family?”

“My dad works for the ministry, but I don’t really know what he does. I also can’t imagine him picking my cabin for me. I don’t think he super cares what I do at summer camp, you know?”

Interacting with @Strike Allen, other interactions welcome as well!

An agonizingly slow smile plastered on Vale's face the more the boy spoke. She laid her head down onto the table, her braids pressing along its hard surface like dark vines capturing unsuspecting victims, purposefully lying where his eyes likely preferred to avoid her own. She stopped her nail tapping, allowing only the automated music and background voices to take place as white noise.

Instead of answering the boy's questions, she moved a black, sharp nail up, reaching just enough to point at his name tag. The nail just barely scraped it. "Robin. Lockett." She breathed out, moving her other hand out to flap, as if she was representing a bird in itself. "A bird went along and found its birdhouse." She removed her nail, moving her hand back to hide underneath her head. "But once it moved inside, it found it empty. So cold, and very lonely." Vale hummed, as if she was telling a woeful tale.

But her smile made it appear differently. She moved her hands back comfortably underneath her by then.

"Do I look like Auror material to you, Blue?" Vale let out a crackle. Her red pupils kept a harsh watch on the younger boy. A slow blink, just enough to dampen the lenses.

"You shouldn't be too scared of your own peers. You got a few more years you have to deal with them after all, especially me." Vale raised her head, leaning instead on her hand. She was silent for a moment, scanning the area around her before resting her eyes right back on the boy. "Let's make a deal, Blue." Vale began. Like rabbit hat magic, she flicked out her notecard and gently set it down in front of @Robin Lockett. "Raise hell for me during your precious time at this camp. Make things entertaining around here. And I'll give you a special gift. Birds like shiny things, yes?"

She stood up, "If you don't..." It was a long, equally agonizing stare with a straight face. As if time could be heard ticking away in the background amongst the white noise of laughter and joyous music. She soon replaced it once again with a smile. "Let's just pinky promise on it." She raised a sharp, pinky finger towards Robin, almost practically in his face. Her other hand wrapped behind her back.

OOC: Great! Also, Robin is such a cool character! Can't wait to see what you do with him for many years to come!
—
Fearless ✳ Poison Resistance ✳ Terrible Presence ✳ Prodigal Potions Learner ✳ Restricted Potions ✳ Blindvision ✳ 7th Year Ability
Note: Vale has incomplete achromatopsia, making her blind. She wears special contact lenses to help her see.

Cabin: D&D Den Camper: Elara Whitlock

Saturday, 1 August 2026 :Date Hogwarts Campgrounds :Location

The sun was already low when Elara reached the feast area. Warm light slipped between the trees and fell across the tables. The music caught her attention first. A piano and harp were playing nearby, but there was no one sitting at either instrument. She slowed down for a moment. There were more tables than she had expected. Each one looked different. Some were decorated with dark colours, others with flags, maps, trophies, or floating objects. Elara looked around until she found the table covered in forest greens and moss. Her Department.

She made her way over, though her attention soon shifted to the buffet tables set between the different Departments. There was quite a selection. Miniature savoury pumpkin tartlets, wild mushroom and truffle risotto, herb-crusted roast pheasant, and several desserts were arranged neatly across the tables. Elara picked up a miniature pumpkin tartlet first, then added a serving of wild mushroom and truffle risotto. She glanced over the desserts before choosing the blackberry Eton mess. Finally, she poured herself a cup of cinnamon cider.

With everything balanced carefully, Elara returned to her Department table. Small terrariums filled with flowers and plants had been placed along the table. Feathers rested among the decorations, while tiny magical creature figurines had been turned into candle stands. As she approached, she noticed Rain, one of her cabinmates, already sitting at the table. She decided to take the empty seat beside him and carefully set her plate down. “Hi, Rain.” Elara gave him a small smile before taking a bite of the pumpkin tartlet. “This is delicious.”

She then remembered the small folded card she had been given at the entrance. She took it from her pocket and unfolded it. Her eyes moved across the words. Ask someone what enchanted object they would most like to own. Elara read it twice. That shouldn't be too difficult. She placed the card beside her plate and picked up her fork to continue eating. She glanced at Rain. “Do you like the food?”

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Banner by Arkyn Sverre Skógrwight, Recommended Font: Georgia

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Find someone who fluently speaks two languages that you do not know.

Reducio

⟵⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⤛

Zyva Hel Fae Skógrwight

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Stamina 4 ⟡ Strength 2 ⟡ Evasion 7
Wisdom 5 ⟡ Accuracy 5 ⟡ Arcane Power 7
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Half-Veela ─ Alluring ⟡ Fluency in Veela
⤜⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⟶

𝕬 gulp announced itself in Robin's throat. He almost choked on it. The worst scenario occurred—someone he's trying to avoid eye-contact with discovered the fact and decided to not let that go at all. Usually people just got the idea that he's anxious in social situations and never acknowledged it, except for his parents who recently started to care about Robin "making himself awkward", whatever that means. This Vale Ashwood likely got the social anxiety part too, she's just crazy and sadistic. Everywhere he looked, she was there. A terrible presence seeping into every corner of his reality.

Robin involuntarily scooted away as her nails barely scraped his name tag. His name sounded like a horrible curse in her voice, and the faked confidence he mustered with his "Plan B" was slapped away just like that. Robin Arthur Lockett calm down by Merlin's beard! She technically isn't even doing anything. Just being a creepy senior like all creepy seniors do, remember that one time you were literally experimented on by being fed some sort of sedative then trapped in a bubble? That's a true creepy senior, this one's just saying shite.

Maybe comparing trauma did work, Robin almost convinced himself that there's nothing to worry about at all. Vale Ashwood was just one of those people who like to tease and scare, and aided by that terrible aura she succeeds in her intended effect every time, but no real harm ever comes out of it. Everything she says is just empty theatrics, nothing of substance—

That's what Robin thought, hoped, more like, before the girl gave a seemingly out-of-place speech about a bird finding a cold and empty birdhouse. That, ironically, calmed Robin down the most. Just a random metaphor that somehow applies to his life delivered by a random person he never met before. His breathing and heartbeat receded to a normal rate, and his eyes looked up once again. Vale Ashwood. The surname suits her.

When challenged by her rhetorical question, Robin shrugged: "I think you'll do pretty good in interrogations." It's unnerving how Robin's emotions can snap immediately into something else. When people laugh, they usually transition slowly back into a smile, then their neutral expression. If you get Robin to laugh—which is hard on it's own—he doesn't. No matter how hysterical he was, after the moment passed he'd just instantly revert the corners of his mouth into a straight line. The realization that Vale Ashwood was indeed a scary person who can see through all your masks or at least accurately guess them provided a sense of . . . certainty, maybe. He's no longer braving the unknown, he's facing something he clearly recognizes as superior. And that he can make peace with.

She's also right about the fact that Robin still has years ahead of him at Hogwarts. He tries to be normal, he might even want to be normal, so he would like it if his next six years aren't spent in absolute fear or complete alienation. The senior is right, he admitted. I cannot afford to be afraid of my peers. I can dislike them, sure, but fear is a different thing. Evading someone because of dislike, annoyance, or just a personal preference doesn't harm me. Doing that out of fear though, it can easier damage my mental stability, make me more paranoid, push me into a whirlpool of insecurities. Even if there's a cursed deer on the raft, I should still reach for it. Facing your boggart is better than drowning to death or being torn apart by the sheer force of the ocean, after all.

Robin almost wanted to thank Vale Ashwood for the things she said, partly genuine but mostly to prove her point and show that he was not scared of her anymore. Even if he still was at least a bit. That gratitude swiftly disappeared when she proposed a deal. Robin eyed the slip of paper she set down on the table, he was indeed right that she came here to fulfill her prompt. Though, "always causes chaos" was not on his mind at all. Why did she even associate a quietly alone second-year with chaos? Also "raise hell" is such a vague instruction. "Make things entertaining" a little more specific, but still not enough for the generally-considered-goody-two-shoes Robin to go off of.

"Most birds are actually afraid of shiny things, they see their reflection and think it's an enemy and panic. Even corvids, they pick up nearly anything with their beaks because they're curious, but people only remember the gold coins." Robin isn't into animals as much, but his parents both being magizoologists and his paternal grandparents both muggle vets made these types of details hard to ignore. "Likewise, I don't care about whatever it is you're offering. I'm only mildly curious of your . . . intentions." There's no harm in admitting his passive interest in human behavior, she'd probably pick that up if he hadn't said it out loud anyway. "That being said, I don't think you realize that I'm not someone who—" he looked at the slip again, "—causes chaos. Even if I agreed to your 'deal', there would be no way for me to fulfill it." As he emphasized the word "deal", he purposefully rested his arms on the table, not extending his pinky at all, despite the pressure of her sharp nail right in front of his face. A shudder ran down his spine, but he took a deep breath and gave the most obviously logical response with a hardly suppressed shaky voice: "I don't sign impossible contracts."

ooc notes
banner and code by me
thanks a lot, vale's also super cool:D i kinda just have a rough idea of what i want to do with him, but that's what's fun about community rps, you never know what dynamic will impact the character's life so much:)
context for the deer and boggart correlation: robin is afraid of deers and antlers
disclaimer: i saw once online that most birds are stressful around shiny things, but i may be wrong. if i am wrong, i head-cannon it as robin mixing things up bc he doesn't really pay attention to his parents' rants on animals anyway