Event The Fall Ball (Masquerade)

@Alina Rosier

Mask

The Fall Ball. The event that captured everyone's attention and sent a wave of anticipation through the air. Everyone had been waiting for this day... Logan wasn't one of those people.
Logan didn't know anything about wizard dances aside from what Alina taught him. He didn't want to make a fool of himself and do something stupid so he was hoping this day wouldn't come. But this was one of those inevitable things that scares you harder as you get closer to it.
Logan got up from bed, took a shower and put on the dress robe his big b had given him. Logan was tall for his age so it fit nicely.. or at least, well enough.
He put on his shoes and decided to have a go at grooming his hair. As usual, the thing just popped back so he had no choice but to got with the usual scruffy look. He found the mask that his brother owled him three days ago and put it one.
When all the dressing up was done, he strolled down to the ballroom and waited for Alina at the entrance. He had no idea what she was going to wear so he decided to keep an open mind. From time to time, he would look in the ballroom and watch what the students would do.

Action: Waiting for his date

The masked Silverwood was no stranger to a good Masquerade Ball. As was the wizard custom on Hallowe'en in his family circle. Though, this festivity usually took place on the day of All Hallow’s Eve and was routinely filled to the brim with pompous lords and arrogant heirs. Søren himself would be dressed to the nines in a classic tuxedo. Tailored to perfection and accessorized with an outstanding tie or bowtie was the way to go for the men of his family, no exceptions. It was his intention to attend every dance at Hogwarts with the same level of fashion, but the cursed Blossom Ball changed his mind.

Søren enjoyed taking a step out of his comfort zone on that night, wearing an odd suit undoubtedly snuck into his trunk by the only Silverwood daughter. Part of his summer was spent working with the family’s house elves to create more creative ensembles for the rest of his time at Hogwarts. Today, he was happy to show off one of the more muted designs. He would be proud if he actually lifted a finger to assist the house elves, but truthfully, most of his time was spent ordering them around.

As he entered the ballroom, Søren was unsurprised to find himself in awe of the student-planned event. Those that had a hand in the Blossom Ball were hard to outmatch, but the students planning for this masquerade party were definitely putting up a fight. A wave of aromatic goodness washed over him as he stepped onto the steam-filled dancefloor and searched for an interesting activity to occupy him for the night. Taking note of the wide space and upbeat music, he deduced that this floor was mainly going to be used to dancing and he wasn’t sure how much mingling and chatting would be taking place. Maybe he should have chosen to attend the costume party instead, though he felt as if that was more of a muggle tradition than a wizard one.

He stood on the outskirts of the ballroom, dateless. It was entirely his fault for throwing himself so deeply into practicing Quidditch. He found no time to make friends or find a partner for the dance. It was embarrassing, really. One of Søren’s only fortes was in his social interaction, yet he had done so little of it since coming to Hogwarts. It was just Quidditch and studies, and he was only good at one of those things… or maybe neither if he was being honest.

Shockingly, many of his peers were dating people already. It was odd to hear the word girlfriend and boyfriend passed through the chatter of the common room and Great Hall. Søren didn’t even know if he wanted a girlfriend or boyfriend. But he certainly hadn’t given much thought to the idea. If he could date a Firebolt, he would. There were many couples on the floor tonight, but, thankfully, a few singles were roaming around. Unwilling to jump the gun, he floated around the perimeter of the dancefloor and observed the scene for anyone who caught his eye.

Interaction Status: Open
Outfit | Mask

Post Tracker
1 2 3 4

Ability: Charmer | Health: 800/800
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 8 | Strength: 8 | Wisdom: 6 | ArcPower: 2 | Accuracy: 8

Open to interactions
Mentioning: @Marshal Mozor
Action: Ariving

Welp. Here she was. The ball that everyone had been talking about ever since the announcement was made exactly a month ago. Melissa actually didn't want to be there, but Marshal had asked her right there in the ballroom a few hours ago. Honestly, how could she reject him? She knew that Marshal wouldn't have a date partner for the dance, which would probably make him sad, maybe even disappointed. After she agreed, Mel dug into her trunk and found the red and orange dress her father had sent her after she told him about the ball.

At first, she felt kind of awkward in the dress since it was off-shoulder, but it was the only dress that she had that would match the theme for the ball so she just went with it. She could always just pull the straps up anyways although it wouldn't look as great. Along with the dress, she found a gold mask with a rose, which her dad also sent. Although it took a while to find everything, she ended up with everything her father sent: a dress, a mask, and a matching hairpiece. For her shoes, she just wore a pair of red chucks which she already had and also since she can't walk in heels at all. The ginger had also brought her wand as well since she heard that the last ball was absolutely disastrous. Taking a deep breath and putting her mask on, she walked into the ballroom.

Stats: Stamina: 5 | Evasion: 6 | Strength: 6 | Wisdom: 6 | Arcane Power: 5 | Accuracy: 7
Abilities: Sixth Sense

Open to Interactions

Well... at least this time they'd actually come. Mars sighed, fiddling with the they/them pin on their lapel. They were pretty sure they'd done this all wrong. Ball etiquette was no stranger to them, of course, but they'd never enjoyed adhering to such rules. They didn't particularly—enjoy social settings, the stiffness of balls was typically enough to deter them immediately. But then, everyone had been in an uproar about this ball the last few weeks and it would probably be a shame to stay curled up in their bed so... here they were. How formal could a Hogwarts ball possibly be?

It was kind of a wonder that they'd managed to scrape together a decently presentable outfit and find a mask. Mars tugged at their pant legs, smoothing the fabric down. Why was it that androgynous formal wear was so hard to find? They didn't know. The mask on their face was a cool, welcome weight on their skin. It was kind of nice to hide behind this piece of plastic—from here, it was easy to just stand and watch without people giving them weird looks.

Mars noticed absentmindedly that there were students from other schools. Ah yeah, they'd all arrived about two and a half weeks ago, huh? Watching the sea of people, they wondered if they should have brought someone along. Mars bit their smile at the thought.

They weren't averse to going to the ball with someone, but the fact of the matter was... they were just too lazy to ask. They didn't really have anyone to ask anyway, so it was fine. They'd probably find some familiar face to pester, and if not, they were perfectly content hopping onto one of the ledges with a drink and just people-watching. Was that weird? Maybe.

The sudden chord that appeared in the room startled them. Mars looked up, searching for a source before they remember that they were still, in fact, in the middle of a magical school. Speaking of which... they put a hand to the wand they'd stuffed into their jumpsuit belt, not caring much about how it looked. From the tiny glimpse they'd seem of the last ball, they weren't taking any chances.

Mars settled in, letting the sway of the music take over their motions. Their gaze drifted over to the food tables. Hmm, they could go for a drink.

Open to Interactions

Well... he was finally here. At this—school. Alexander forced his face into a smile, clasping his hands neatly together. He was sure the hundreds of thoughts running through his head weren't outwardly visible, but that didn't stop them from being about as annoying as a swarm of bees buzzing away in his head. Closing his eyes for a mere second, the boy took a deep breath and finally stepped into the Ballroom.

It was—uh—nice. If he could call it that. The decor was... appropiarte for this time of year and the ambiance wasn't terrible. There wasn't anything wrong, per se, but it seemed kind of shabby in comparison to what he was used to. Almost—student-run or something. Quelling his urge to sniff at the general state of things, Alexander let a soft smile rest gently over his features. This was his shield, his comfort. He was sure he could smile through anything by now. After all, he'd survived the last two and a half weeks in a school that fostered murders and come out fine. Mostly. His back was sore from the accommodations but again, he hadn't expected much.

The Durmstrang boy knew exactly was he was doing as he skirted to the side of the dance floor. Don't dance yet, wait until someone invites you. Straighten your collar, your mask, and be loose. Everything will work out fine.

There was one thing that worried him though. He knew they were crawling around here somewhere, pretending to be normal in this crowd of students. The masks certainly didn't help things.

Taking another breath, Alexander forced himself to relax. No sense in worrying over it. Besides, he knew he could handle them. Still, that couldn't loosen the tension in his shoulders as he stared into the sea of students. What an odd feeling, not being in control.

Leonard had given up on planning, by that point.

School dances were always scary. Even in muggle school, where there was barely any chance of getting hexed to bits if you asked someone else’s dates. The Slytherin had never been to any sort of convention like that at school, actually, but from the stories he’d heard of suspiciously coloured drinks and the absolute monsters that students could be from his parents, he’d resolved to do as he always did to get out of events: stay in bed and ignore everything and everyone. This strategy had worked before, but it was broken by his new school, as was everything else.

This was the school where portraits came to life to judge all your life decisions in the hallways. This was the school where maturity in eleven-year-olds ranged from a kindergartner’s brain to one of royalty. This was the school where fairly well-put together functions got crashed by some sort of monster near the end, and apparently, this was also the school that could get away with that sort of thing. This was the school that would shape the greatest and the brightest and the…others. This was the school that ruined just about everything organized and clean and turned the clearest of texts into scribbled messes, turned solid plans into vapourous wishes. There was no fighting against the tidal wave of weird people, weirder teachers, and weirder yet interactions with them.

And so, he’d given up on planning, just for a night of fun and possible fire. Hopefully not fire.

It was one night, he told himself. One night. What bad could possibly happen in one night? Actually, no, he did not want to ask questions. Or answer questions. Or think of even the word questions. Or think in general. There were others he’d met, one lion in particular, who didn’t seem to think at all, and he seemed happy as one could possibly be.

And so, he entered the ballroom, then wondered how he could ever think that he would want to miss this. It was majestic, and ignoring the fact that indeed, there was more fire as decoration, it looked a spectacle to behold. Music played from the orchestra and scents of autumn came, battering him with a feeling of calm and fun, something he never thought was possible when surrounded by human beings. Leonard looked around in wonder, though as always, reluctant to move from his space of observation. Most of the people were unrecognisable to him with or without their masks, which struck a tiny bit of fear in his mind.

The snake decided to wait near the seating area, adjusting his own mask, given by his mother, and his tux jacket. According to his father, it had gotten all the ladies’ attention, and while the boy didn’t fancy any girl in the crowd, friendly attention would be good. Just for the night.

ACTION: Arriving, and awkwardly waiting for someone to talk to him.
STATS: Stamina: 5 | Evasion: 6 | Strength: 4 | Wisdom: 7 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 7 | Health: 500/500
MENTIONING: @Marshal Mozor and @Tristan Theramin
STATUS: Open to Interactions

rping as iNPC Maksim Preobrazhensky [x]

interacting with Alisa Sokolova (@Edric Banes).

If dialogue is in italics, Maksim is speaking in Russian.

Had Maksim ever been this nervous for something so simple? No, he didn't think so.

It wasn't the thought of having to mingle and make nice with hundreds of other students in a language that was not his mother-tongue that made him want to bury his head in a hole. It certainly wasn't the strange thought of his brother having a girlfriend that he had met over the summer that made his stomach flip over and over itself. Was it the fact that he had an actual date to an actual dance that people actually took the people they were romantically interested in to? No, it wasn't that- Maksim didn't think he'd ever be romantically interested in Alisa Sokolova; not now, and not ever. But, he realized as he leaned against the stone wall just outside the doors to Hogwarts' ballroom, Alisa was actually the sole reason as to why his knees were metaphorically knocking.

Asking Alisa freaking Sokolova to go to a dance with him was probably one of the most nerve-wracking things he'd ever done, even if they had actually, sort of, kind of become... friends. Well, maybe "friends" was stretching it a little. Even though he referred to her as "Alisa" in his head, and despite the fact that she called him Maksim (mostly at his insistence, though), he still referred to his classmate as Sokolova out loud. Frankly, he had no idea if they were actually friends or not- she certainly wasn't like most of his other friends, who all seemed to be cut from the same cloth: loud, rowdy, outgoing, and mischievous. But Alisa... if anything, she was the exact opposite, she was stoic and solemn in nature. This was the Sokolova that Maksim recalled seeing in the corridors and in his classes during his first years at Durmstrang, but he had seen a different side of her at the Chess Combat match over the summer. There, he had chatted with a witty, biting girl whose comments never failed to make him chuckle. So, even if she wasn't like all of his other friends, Maksim certainly considered her to be a very dear friend, and surprisingly close to his heart.

Speaking of his date (was it even really a date?), Maksim had no idea where she was. Maybe he should've waited for her to finish getting ready before walking together to the dance...? Clenching his teeth as he realized his mistake, he fiddled the cross around his neck, the gold starkly different from his usual silver one. His mask remained in his hand, wanting to wait until Alisa arrived before donning the mask to enter the ball. His deep golden jacket was a little tight around his biceps, clearly indicating that Maksim had been keeping in excellent shape, but for the most part, fit him quite well, and his dark brown dress slacks certainly felt much more... Muggle-ish than his school robes. But really, he cleaned up quite nicely- Alisa had quite the handsome date.

"Good lord," Maksim muttered under his breath, his brows creasing as he watched all of the students filing into the ballroom. Why were there so many of them...? Would they really have to navigate all of these people, and make small talk (in English, no less) with their new peers? But before he could dwell too much on the subject, a flash of sparkling silver and a head of dark hair caught his eye, and Maksim grinned at the sight of Alisa.

The idea for their loosely matching outfits had been to dress up as the sun and the moon, although far more subtle. In Maksim's opinion, it was ridiculously fun to get dressed up, and having a theme just made it that much easier. However, he didn't realize just how... incredible Alisa would look in her dress. It almost made him feel bad for his simple suit jacket and slightly less simple mask... almost, but not quite.

"Er..." he managed to stutter out, standing up straight as his gaze flicked across Alisa's outfit. "Miss Sokolova," he said formally, regaining his composure as he bowed deeply. "You look beautiful. Stunning, even. It would be my honor to accompany you to this dance..." His stiff and formal etiquette relaxing slightly, he added with a smirk, "You look as radiant as the moon, Sokolova. And I really mean that."

Offering his arm to her, like the true gentleman that he was, Maksim carefully placed his mask onto his head, grinning stupidly at Sokolova. If she rejected his arm, he would simply shrug and stroll casually by her side, taking particular care that he didn't accidentally step on the hem of her dress. "You know," he commented as the pair stepped through the doors, towards the dancefloor, "My brother has a date. Actually, he has a girlfriend, which might be even weirder. Imagine that! My baby brother, having a girlfriend. But me? I could get any girl I want, but I just don't want to. Not right now, at least. Mostly because I think you may judge me, to be honest. Because you know, your opinion matters a lot to me! Because you're my friend." Clearing his throat awkwardly, he muttered under his breath, "Sorry, I'm just... nervous, I guess."

statistics stamina: 7 || evasion: 6 strength: 6 || wisdom: 11 arcane power: 5 || accuracy: 10

abilities perfectionist evasive maneuvers charmer

Reducio

the 'fit:

Open to Interactions
Outfit

It had been a month since the Save the Date invitations had mysteriously appeared. Piper and others had found them around the Great Hall, in the Slytherin common room (and presumably other common rooms), and about everywhere else one could think of. The invitations were mysterious - one had a much darker theme than the other, giving a sophisticated impression. On the other hand, the other was filled with warmer colors and pictures of food, a more childish and autumn-y theme. Both matched in saying only to Save the Date: October 16. It was soon revealed that the first event was to be a Masquerade, to take place in the ballroom, and the other was a Costume Party.

Piper was now torn in several directions. First, she wouldn't be caught dead in a ridiculous-looking costume, bobbing for apples. And nobody would ever take her seriously again if she were to dance in the ballroom (her dancing skills were zero). And then, of course, she could always simply not attend either, but the school would surely be buzzing about this event and she would seem an idiot to not know about it. It hurt her head to analyze everything thoroughly. She had no friends whatsoever here, which may or may not have been her fault, but it made things much harder. It was hard to do things alone at a game event, and even more difficult to dance without a partner.

At first glance, Piper decided she would want to attend the masquerade. It was so grown-up, so regal. But would other first-years even attend? The last thing she would want would be to stand out (especially at a masquerade). Her height was just tall enough to pass for a higher year, she supposed. She had a secret motive for wanting to attend the Masquerade as well: She could put on a mask and not worry about others for once. Anything she would do would not be the deeds of Piper Clark; they would be the deeds of a mysteriously masked stranger. She would have no name and no face. And it was perfect. She could do virtually anything, make an acquaintance or even become insufferably cheerful if she wished. Nobody would even recognize her the following day.

Now, there was the small detail of what to wear. Obviously a mask. Eventually, after much conference with her mother via owl, Piper decided on the perfect outfit to order and wear. Enough to fit in. She loved it; it reminded her of the Medieval princesses she had read about as a young girl. But what if everyone came in casual and she was far too frivolous? Or what if she dressed too casually for the elegant night? Worrying was so very tiresome.

At last, October 16 arrived. The corridor to the corridor to the ballroom was eerily quiet as Piper cautiously tip-toed towards it. Why was it so quiet? But then she heard the noise of people congregating and eagerly filing into the ballroom. Many more than she had anticipated, but most were wearing masks. Good; she'd fit right in. Adjusting her own mask, she stepped inside and glanced around. Candles lit the room and an upbeat music played. The dance floor was mainly empty. Piper regretted the lack of food (while there was a table of it, it was clearly not the focus of the night), but that would come all in good time (Halloween was bound to have endless sweets). What terrified her was that everyone who came seemed much older than her, and as if they had actually planned the night out with their companions.

Piper suddenly felt very small. But now that people had seen her, she couldn't turn back, so she put her head up and walked forwards. They don't recognize you, she reassured herself. Even if she made herself look an absolute fool, nobody knew who she was. She may end up sitting at a table for the evening, since she hadn't thought of dancing yet. Perhaps someone would approach her, and if not, hey, there was punch. And at least now she could say she had in fact attended an event, should someone ask.

Lucia had nearly been ready to just go out on the dance floor by herself, looking like an idiot, when a redheaded Gryffindor arrived to save the day. "Scarlett!" she grinned as her friend donned her mask. Lucia's own was already on her face - was she supposed to have come not wearing it?

"Yeah," the Hufflepuff agreed readily. "Briar refused to come, she's just holed up in the library, so I said I'd try steal her a pumpkin. But I don't think there's much chance of that!" With a small snort of laughter, Lucia gestured to all the members of staff.

Suddenly, the girl noticed that a few couples had took to the dance floor. "Hey..." she started, and gestured towards them, "Do you want to?"
Wait...
"Oh, Merlin, I mean as friends of course. For fun. I-"
It was obvious that the raven-haired girl was mortified and stumbled over her words as she tried to clarify what she meant.
"'Cause neither of us have a date?" she finished weakly, hoping that Scarlett knew what she meant.

"Uh..."
Change the subject, Lucia! Change it now, before she can say anything!
"So... Do you like dancing?"
You idiot, Lucia Fox.

"Oh. Uh, thank you?" Cassie said, confused, in reply to his compliment. She didn't look particularly 'beautiful', of that she was pretty sure, but she did look nicer than usual. The girl didn't often bother with appearances, but even she thought she had better 'scrub up well' for a ball. "I mean, I dunno," Cassie gave Charles a little shrug. "If you restrain me from putting whoopie cushions on the seats-" Cassie had actually brought one in her bag, just in case "-and I restrain you from flirting with everyone, that's probably pretty sensible."

"Wait..." A smirk slid onto Cassie's face. "How would you know about how many pockets dresses have?" She poked him playfully. "Now I'm just trying to imagine you in a dress - like the David Walliams book!" Cassie smirked.

So, it was only temporary. Okay. "Well, it looks nice," Cassie said with a shrug, then added with another snicker, "Still wierd though."

Well, that hadn't been the answer she had been expecting, but Cassie would have to do with it. "Good," she huffed as Charles tied on his mask (the second-year had refused to wear one herself), "'Cause I have no idea what I'm doing. How do you posh people survive doing this so often?!"
She fidgited in her dress - it was obvious that Cassie was not at ease. "What're we supposed to do? Just go out there and dance?"
Suddenly, Cassie Heather McGregor-Martin realised her best excuse yet not to go to the ball. It's like a reverse Cinderella, she thought to herself as she said, "I can't dance."