Event The Fall Ball (Masquerade)

Alexei rolled his eyes as a fight broke out. It was like nobody had any sort of upbringing anymore. His eyes scanned the room, occasionally returning to his obnoxious if stunningly beautiful date. He wondered how long he was expected to be in her company before he could say that he had satisfied his parents' wishes and get to talk to and dance with girls he found at least tolerable.

He arched a slight eyebrow at her use of Russian but didn't say anything. It wasn't all that surprising, considering that their parents had set this up, and as such, the girl had likely been encouraged to learn at least a little. "But of course," he said in reply to her comment about his own attire matching hers. Truth be told, he hadn't paid all that much mind to it. "Of course, you'd be ethereal in any color, love."

She had gone from potentially intriguing to vaguely irritating to purely insufferable, and he slightly resented the fact that he was to spend the night with her rather than a girl of his choosing. As if the universe head his complaints, a rider burst through the window. It turned out to be a ghost, and the Russian turned back to his date, who seemed to have decided to investigate whatever the mystery at hand was. He just nodded politely as she took her leave, and began to scan the room, now that he was a free man.

It seemed a significant portion of the ballgoers agreed with Silver's sentiment as the dance floor cleared slightly. What fools. There were always things going wrong in the magic world, and if one took the time to deal with every single one, they would never get any peace. He wasn't arrogant enough to think that he was the only person to solve whatever the issue was, and moreover, he doubted he was even needed. He was in Scotland to represent his school and have a good time, neither of which could be done by frolicking the castle like a lot of sheep. Still, as he scanned the room for a new partner, he looked intently for anything sinisterly.

As his search ended, his eyes landed on a lovely girl who had just arrived. She appeared to be alone for the moment, so Alexei strode confidently over. "Forgive my boldness, but I was wondering if you might do me the honor of sharing this dance with me?" he said as he reached her. She was tall, her heels making her nearly the exact same height as him. She was vaguely familiar, but to Alexei's deep sadness, he didn't know where from. Perhaps she had gone to that camp earlier in the year. "I am Alexei Petrov, of Durmstrang. What do they call you?"

Stamina: 10
Evasion: 9
Strength:13
Wisdom: 4
ArcPower: 4
Accuracy:9

Abilities: Charmer, Statistically Relevant(x2)

Action: Get ditched by his date, ask Evanore to dance, look for anything suspicious

No Interactions (For Now)

Despite her bright choice of wearing a dextrous outfit, the poor Ravenclaw lost her vision on her cape. Seriously, who in their right mind would steal a cape? Still, Breana was hardheaded on trying to find the thief as she continued to skulk about and try to catch a glimpse of her luxurious-looking cape. She created it by hand, surely she can easily find it, even with the hoards of students enjoying themselves... right?

As she was walking around, however, Breana felt something quickly grabbing her by her leg, making her scream out and try to kick the hand-- or at least she hoped it was a mere hand-- away. Was in the sweet cinnamon rolls was that? Who was dragging her, and why? More importantly, where were they dragging her to? Such heinous thoughts are better left unanswered. Did anybody see what happened at least? She looked at her surroundings, wondering if any of her peers saw it, hoping that she wasn't hallucinating. Was someone pranking her? First the cape, now this. It had the makings of a prank, and, knowing her own luck, odds are the next prank would be her covered in pig's blood. She hoped that at the very least she would get Carrie-like powers after all of that.

Unfortunately for the young girl, the scenario created a domino effect in her brain, with each domino being heavier than the last. She clutched unto the nearest wall, as flashbacks of the last time she went to a ball are slowly resurfacing. "No... Not again..." She breathed out, doubling over as she mentally battled herself against the panic that was coursing through her. Her breath started to shorten, as well as the walls feeling more compact. She knew she wasn't safe here, Breana needed an escape. Clutching unto the walls for support as if her life depended on it, she walked at a fast pace, hoping that the other ball wasn't too occupied by students and would give Breana a good space to recollect herself.

Action:
Moving from the Masquerade Ball to the Costume Ball to try and get some air, if there's no further interactions.

Stats:
Stamina 4 | Evasion 4 | Strength 3 | Wisdom 9 | Arc Power 6 | Accuracy 9
Health: 525/600

Ball Outfit:

Reducio

Milo shared a soft laugh with Angel as he continued to dance with her. "My pick of the litter? No they are many boys more handsome then I am there and the ladies there don't make me bat an eye, but you darling were my first choice, otherwise I'd have gone alone. Surely I wouldn't have had much fun by myself at a dance?" He twirled her around carefully, showing off his partner rather than himself while re-playing all the dance classes he had taken in his head. Milo shrugged nonchalantly. "Durmstrang didn't teach me how to dance, my parents made both myself and my brothers learn at a young age, and it just stuck with me I guess."

He pulled his eyes up to meet hers and smiled softly. The blonde haired boy was so happy and so oblivious to the chaos around him. The words that flowed off her lips with her cute accent made him mesmerized, and also not hear a word that she said. He snapped out of his daze when she lifted her head off his shoulder and glance around. The boy also looked around the room. Hadn't things been peaceful a moment ago? Now there was screaming, fighting and the aura as a whole in the room made his skin crawl. Something was up and he wouldn't stick around to figure it out or endanger himself or his date.

"Angel would you care to get out of here? I'd rather not stay here any longer." He whispered into the ear of his date. She seemed to nod her head and he gently took her hand and lead them out of the ball without another word or a look over their shoulders.

Action: Leaving the ball with @Santario Martin (Permission to god mod)

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Interacting With: @Piérre Marchonné as Romeo Marchonne
Mentioning: @Amara Dragamior • Marion Davenport
Hex Color: #0080BF

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"What's the matter, comrade?"

Hanzo would exhale with a gentle laugh, though the noise would seem a bit sharp, almost as if it had been forced from his throat – the Norwegian, after all, had never been a very good actor, especially in the presence of those who knew him well. It would be difficult to dismiss the caring nature of his good friend, so he wouldn’t try to, opting rather to answer Romeo with a sense of vagueness as he attempted to shake off the uneasy feeling previously captivating his consciousness. “It’s nothing,” he would respond, his eyes meeting the underclassman’s as he offered Romeo an uneasy smile, his words only partially truthful. “I suppose I find myself rather intimidated by the native students, is all. They seem so well-kempt here. Somewhat.” This statement was, of course, made in regards to the chaos that was beginning to unfurl all around them – amidst punches being thrown, and the sounds of distressed students ringing throughout the air, Hanzo sighed shortly, deciding to block out everything distracting him from the moment at hand. He only wanted a fun night with his friend. Romeo’s kindly curiosity was rather endearing, in the way that it made Hanzo feel safe, as if someone truly cared about how he felt deep in his soul. It was, in truth, a rather foreign feeling, one he rather appreciated – perhaps it was such a trait that drew Hanzo to Romeo so avidly. He would do well to honor Romeo, then, and give the taller boy his full attention. Perhaps they’d have a few laughs along the way, and Hanzo could forget all about the visage of the blonde Hogwarts student.

[He’d confided in Romeo about many things, such as his strange second personality, and the negative feelings shrouding his breakup not too long ago – the other knew full well what his feelings were regarding females and dangerous situations. So perhaps his classmate would recognize his nonverbal confession for what it was. Marion was a beautiful girl, her face doll-like, her manner clean and kempt, her aura purely angelic in the way that it melted away at all his outer walls. Her blond hair was not unlike that of Amara’s. Perhaps it was such a semblance that led Hanzo to be so subconscious about himself.]

Having made his decision, the ex-Captain would exhale shortly and audibly, both a subconscious and visible sign of dismissal – his feelings were something to address later, when he wasn’t hand-in-hand with his dance partner. A signature Hanzo smile quickly resettling upon his facial features, he would waste no time in glancing down at the feet of his classmate wryly, settling his small feet upon Romeo’s with an air of humor as he looked up, eyes squinted in mischievous elation. It would be easier this way – there was no need to give his feet any opportunity to show off. He would continue to chuckle at Romeo’s claims of ignorance, allowing a snort to further his amusement at the indication that he would never forget such a dance. “Oh, I’m scared now,” he would chuckle happily in a jesting voice, “What does the mighty Romeo have to offer?” A moment of reminiscence would lead the ex-Captain to a moment of subtle embarrassment, his cheeks tinted pink as he realized his mistake – he’d phrased his words wrong again. English was so hard. A bout of insecurity would move within his chest, his feelings kicking and screaming for purchase, for validation, and almost painfully so – a wince would punctuate such a feeling, and Hanzo would inwardly curse himself, telling his insides to quiet down, let him enjoy himself for one damned night. Oh, Romeo probably didn’t care, anyways. He never got upset over small things such as this.

Romeo wasn’t wrong about the dance. The two would begin at a slow pace, Hanzo’s hands stretching forward as they reached gently around the neck of the taller for the second time that night, though the circumstances for the first had been a bit different. Though he’d danced several times before, he had never done it with anyone other than his close family – how was this even supposed to work? Should he be looking into Romeo’s eyes? How could he do so, without erupting into laughter and making things weird? But it would be rude to look off into the crowds – after all, he was here for Romeo, not for the flamboyant and minorly dangerous scenery. You know what, screw it. Shaking his head silently, he would train his eyes on Romeo’s face, raising an eyebrow in obvious mock surprise as his smile only grew. “I’m not sure… what you say,” he said, fumbling with his English once more. “You are a, a brilliant dancer!” He would remove one of his arms as to swing outwards for emphasis, almost losing his balance at the sudden shift in weight. And his perceptions would only grow in validity – not too long after his own declaration of satisfaction, the other would soon begin to add color to his style, throwing in twists and turns every other moment. Hanzo would suddenly gasp at the shift in his equilibrium, thoroughly discombobulated by the spinning of his form via his dance partner – if Romeo would look closely enough, he might catch a flaw in the ex-Captain’s story, or more specifically, a well-practiced shuffle on the blonde’s back foot as he rounded full circle and stumbled into the hug of his friend. Well. If it hadn’t felt odd at first, he sure as hell did now – he was thankful his face was buried into Romeo’s chest, for if it had been visible to the likes of the world, his peers would have most certainly caught the vibrant cherry red tint painting his cheeks as a stunned look plastered itself upon his handsome features. He… had liked that way too much. Why the…what… okay, he was pulling himself together again. Taking a deep breath and making a sorry attempt at collecting himself, the boy would remain hugging Romeo as to salvage his visage. He didn’t need anyone getting strange thoughts about their relationship.

Hanzo would find himself minorly upset when the underclassman would suddenly pull away, his own nervousness sparking into dread as he looked upon the face of the broom racer – Romeo seemed wary, as if he had seen a ghost or unfriendly vision of some sort. What was the issue, then? The Norwegian’s eyes, once trained on his dance partner, would soon shift to the scenery of the room, the boy having completely forgotten about his quickly fading blush as he searched for the cause of Romeo’s distress. It wouldn’t be hard to find it, too – Romeo had seen an actual ghost, then? No, Hanzo bloody hated ghosts… trying to calm the alarms being set off within his brain, a deep breath would reign him back into a state of tranquility, though his wary eyes would never leave the unsettling visage of the noncorporal form. “Spøkelse,” he stated quietly to himself in his native tongue, loud enough for Romeo to hear the distress in his voice if the other was attentive enough. Hanzo would glance upwards once more, taking a moment to reevaluate the physical emotion of his classmate – how was it, that Romeo didn’t look scared? It was such a visage, Hanzo supposed, that gave him a sense of courage amidst his onset of panic. He would soon straighten up, flattening out his robes as his gaze grew harder, more determined, not unlike his second, ex-Captain personality. His demeanor still held a sense of softness, grace, his mannerisms controlled and kempt… as they would remain, unless severely shattered by the pressure of expectations. No one wanted to see that… that monster again.

Hearing Romeo’s offer, the Norwegian would nod once more, doing his best to ignore the icy dread washing about in his gut. “I’m in…” he would state cautiously, his head tilting at the sight of the noncorporeal creature as he attempted to get a better look at it. Though he didn’t feel much like confronting danger in this instance, he would be loathe to abandon Romeo in his search for adventure. He would realize, at the last second, that his friend had already taken off into the crowd – “Hey, wait up!” he would yelp, sprinting after his friend. Not once realizing that his translation, for once, had been correct. It would seem as if he would need his wits about him, and his wand out – and, preferably, shorter robes. How did Gryffindors run in these things, again?!

[font=segoe print]─────────Statistics─────────[/font]

STAM | 4 EVA | 10 STR | 3

WIS | 10 ARC | 4 ACC | 10

────────────────────────────── Nonhuman Enthusiast | +1 in all rolls against Parselmouth, Metamorphmagus, part-Veela, part-Giant, part-Goblin, Dhampir, Seer and Werewolves. This also applies to non-human event creatures/mobs. ────────────────────────────── Comprehend Languages | +10% Wisdom and you may choose one additional magical language that you learn [Parseltongue]. ──────────────────────────────

Action • Joining The Hunt with Romeo [For Papertrail Purposes]

[font=times new roman]

Interacting with @Ileen Knight
Post Tracking: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | X
Closed to Further Interactions

Through the crowd he walked, slowly, eyes gazing upon those that were dancing and it made him inwardly happy that people could just enjoy the time they spent with each other. Leaving Dealla was a hard decision that was made easy by the company she held, how annoying, he didn't enjoy the people that interrupted them and his mood clearly soured from it. Zykeal didn't know why he walked through the dance floor, it wasn't as if he was looking for anyone, in particular, he just needed a clear exit away from the situation and he felt the crowd was the best place in case his date wanted to make a scene. Thankfully, the girl he chose to go to the ball with didn't mind that he left, she didn't even offer a goodbye; not that he gave her much time to do so.

Shifting his way through the crowd, a little slimmer now that some of the students cleared out to follow the boring ghost, he couldn't help but look upwards and stare at the ceiling as he used his peripheral vision to guide him. The rotation of the wand in his hand could be halted and the hilt slapped into his palm at any time, if needed, but he wasn't ready for what was to come next. At first, he thought he had bumped into a fixture or something, it annoyed him, he nearly flicked his wand in the direction of whatever he stumbled into; a little nudge in his mind told him not to though. Those golden eyes shifted down as he saw a figure fall into him, grabbing a hold of his sleeve and causing an obvious sound to occur.

With the rip of the seems to the sleeve of his jacket, his head tilted to the side as he looked down at the figure who had caused the commotion. This girl was probably one of the only ones that could at least pulled a little smile to the side of his facial features at the time, "Ileen," he said softly. Watching her, she adjusted herself and started talking almost immediately, he wasn't prepared to have to answer these questions, but, he was as blunt as ever when he did respond, "She's off with another boy who caught her eye," he said, stopping the rotation of his wand to settle it within his hand. Raising his other arm outright, he shifted his held wand to point directly towards where the rip was made to his jacket and quietly said, "Reparo," and watched as they seem stitched itself back together.

When he had finished, he shifted his gaze back down to Ileen and dawned a fake smile, "Apparently, my companionship had a time limit and I have reached it," he continued, nodding slowly with a slightly exaggerated blink. The boy was only 12-years-old, misreading things was natural and he wasn't fully developed emotionally yet, people tended to forget such things. "What about your boyfriend?" he countered, "I honestly can't remember his name," he shrugged, slightly embarrassed as he waited for a response from the girl. When she did, he'd just give another affirmation nod and slowly settle the ivory-colored wand back into the pistol holster that was inside his jacket, against his ribs.

With his hands down to his side now, since his wand was stowed, he needed to distract himself and this caused his fingers to slowly cross over each other one at a time; pointer to the middle, middle to index, index to pink, and back again. Thankfully, so far in his stay at the school, no one had noticed the little tics that he had formed; hopefully, they'd stay that way. Those golden hues stayed staring at the girls though, always keeping eye contact now, wondering why the girl was alone now and even casting back his thoughts to just a few days prior to their last encounter. Out of nowhere, it seemed, he offered a query, "Care to dance?"

Action: Casting Reparo on his jacket. Conversation~
Stamina: 7 | Evasion: 2 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 8 | ArcPower 9 | Accuracy: 7
Prodigal Charms Learner | Advanced Casting | Trunk

Open to Interactions
Mentioning: @Richard Lavallee

As little as Haley had been concerned with the ball at first, the more she has done so in the last few days. She would never have expected that so much time could be spent on it. But even if she didn't understand the hype at first, she also found it a great pleasure to make the preparations for this one evening. They had decided to go to the masked ball and Haley took care of her outfit. It took some time, effort and different opinions as she couldn't decide, but in the end she was more than happy.

After a long back and forth she decided to wear a short green dress, which she fell in love with as soon as she saw it. In addition she wore simple black high heels in which she practiced walking every free minute and hopeing her her feet will not start to hurt after the first step. She tied her curly hair into a deep braid and let a few strands frame her face.

A quick glance at the clock told her that she now had to get going quickly. She quickly took the box she had gotten from Richard and put on the necklace and earrings that came with it. She had to smile briefly as she thought of the moment when Richard gave her this gift. She still thought that this was far too much, but she was still incredibly happy about this gesture.

Richard and she had agreed that they would meet in front of the ballroom and so she made her way to the fourth floor. Since the Gryffindors were on the fifth floor, she didn't have a long walk ahead. Just as she was about to climb the final steps, she saw Richard standing below.

She could already hear the music coming from the room and was looking forward to this evening all the more. There was a big smile on her face, "Hey, Richard!" she called out, hoping that he would hear her despite all the voices and music. She continued to walk down the stairs in quick steps so as not to make him wait any longer.

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[font=times new roman]OCTOBER 16TH
Roleplaying as Beauxbatons NPC Elise Laurent
Interacting with @Lindsey Springhall (as Maxi)
Owl for Interaction!

She should've known things never went well for her. For once in her life, she had assumed that maybe - just maybe - for one night tonight, it would all be perfect. Negativity would be shoved out of the window and left to rot. She would have an amazing time with her date, twirling around in the ballroom of Hogwarts (it still couldn't touch Beauxbatons's one however). Nothing would go wrong. Nothing.

It all appeared to be wishful thinking though, because obviously a ghostly rider just had to fake-break the ballroom window and give warning of horrors and dangers and some other stuff in English, the language that wasn't her mother tongue. She could grasp the basics but it was just so...weird. What did they mean when they didn't have masculine and feminine words? They didn't have different words for 'the'? It was all a mystery, to be honest.

She looked at Maxi, feeling the tension buzzing in the air. Slightly comforted by her words, she nodded, her mind reeling and trying to figure out what it all meant. Her date seemed to have a better understanding of English than her, from his expression. "Allex Maxi,"* said Elise, tugging his hand gently. "On devrait aller enquêter."**

Her blue eyes swept round the ballroom, looking for anything mysterious - anything...out of place.

Reducio

Translations
*Come on Maxi
**We should go investigate

Stats | Stamina | 7 | Evasion | 8 | Strength | 4 | Wisdom | 8 | Arcane Power | 6 | Accuracy | 7 |
Abilites Lovely Creature, Terrible Presence
Action Search for clues

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Outfit:

"Ravens aren't social with many other then those of their own kind. Neither was Selim."

Selim relaxed as Flash spat out some words that were rather fitting of his physical age, before walking away back into the crowd with possibly a fresh bruise on his back. Snorting in mild disdain, the raven tucked the slim needles he had brought out back into his sleeves, then turned, looking at Vlad with an unseen raised brow.

He noted the person Vladimir had been dancing with casually being approached by a half-giant he didn't know. He looked up at the tall boy dubiously, wasn't it considered rude to steal another person's date? Did the boy not realize the fight had been swiftly ended with only two people being hurt? He glanced at the tea-giver looking over his injury.

Perhaps the tallboy was just trying to give the Ravenclaw a moment to recover from the sudden punch. Then again, he didn't know much about social etiquette between children/teens.

He tried to examine Vlad's injury passively, about a foot away and slightly in front of the upperclassmen.

The raven let out a small 'tsk', "Oh my, a mess of a dance, doesn't anyone here know it's rude not to fight during an outing such as this?" He sighed, "I apologize for my dormmate's actions, Mister Athanatos, I swear none of them know how to be polite. A pity your night was interrupted, yet again, by my peers."

With that, Selim bowed shortly at the waist to the boy and his date, in apology. Then he straightened. "Would you like me to grab you something for the bruise? Perhaps some ice? If I can find any, that is."

He eyed the half-giant once more, and the girl Vladimir was dancing with quite eloquently. At least someone in this school had some proper class.

He then continued to watch Athanatos cautiously, eyeing his reaction to his sudden presence. He still had questions, but that moment would be a terrible time to ask them. He inwardly felt a tad annoyed, he never liked when answers to his curiosities were kept out of arm's reach for too long. When that happened his intrigue nagged at his brain, like mites biting away at the back of his mind. A constant distraction.

He needed to find some of that tea Vlad had given him, it would calm his painful thoughts, give him a moment of relaxation against the hidden chaos of his brain. Though, he was mildly concerned he'd become addicted to that tea.

Well, he supposed there were worse things he could become addicted to, so maybe it wouldn't be that bad...

He glanced once more at the brawl that had been taking place during the majority of his time at the masquerade, yes, the one most of the professors seemed to be ignoring the existence of.

Truly, Hogwarts was almost too troublesome to deal with... he had other things he could be worrying about. Along with that, Selim noted a familiar shock of red hair arrive at the 'party' and felt all the more drained.

Humans were exhausting, but at least his mask was taking the brunt of any scrutinization he was getting. Hopefully, that bothersome Fox wouldn't recognize him. Though that didn't mean the grief-ridden boy he had seen during the summer wouldn't search for revenge against the passive Ravenclaw.

Selim had made it a point not to mention his chat with Vladimir to Jack. Why?

Well, it was better if the possessive redhead didn't know Selim was acquainted amiably with the upperclassman. Who knew what measures the redhead would take to keep the Ravenclaw away from him.

The boy would probably think Vladimir was brainwashing him, or something equally as laughable. His Otou-sama had trained him quite sternly, making sure the 'heir' to the clan would never be easily controlled by others.

So, with an inward groan of exasperation. Selim, once again, took out his entirely not-weaponized chopsticks and kept an observant eye on his dormmate.

He hoped the boy wouldn't create yet another unsightly scene or another problem Selim had to 'fix'.

Closed to Interactions from anyone other those I'm Rping with.

Actions: Dealing with the aftermath of kicking sense into Flash..

She did not know. Know about the flowers. The marigolds were the test. "Everything ha a double meaning, the one that others give it... the one that you actually intend to deliver. The truth is usually both." Everyone knows marigolds, a bright sunny flower whose face is always towards the sun. However, few can agree on what marigolds symbolize. "The marigold is sometimes also called the “herb of the sun”, representative of passion and creativity." Did not fit him in the least. Not that he was bereft of that human spark that differentiated him from a machine, but he was analytical. "They also symbolize cruelty, grief and jealousy," Was this closer to the truth? Indeed, it was.

This was small conversation, at least to the Ravenclaw. At his heart he was an intellectual, despite the fact that this school knew him for something else. A little bit of knowledge can indeed sometimes be a dangerous thing. "Hamlet would be a good read," students were often forced to endure rather than enjoy the classics.

This was not a literature review, this was a dance. The music had a natural rhythm that did not require training to dance, merely instinct. Most lacked their better senses and for that reason training was required, the attempt to emulate what nature forgot to provide them. He appreciated the fact that she was a dancer, the creative aspect was something that faking can only take so far. "Commendable," he commented.

It was unlikely this entire evening would go so well. Not that he would do an ything to encourage the disaster, he did not need to.

How predictable, in a room full of enemies he was attacked by some random youth he did not know or care to. The girl was there as a reason, as a pretty bauble meant to be admired, perhaps even adored. She was also there to scream. @Flash Holmwood came for him, he knew someone would. Some would call him paranoid, but his fixation was not based in fear but rather elation.

The opening, a sucker punch to his chiseled jaw. The pureblood heir did not try to evade the assault, the taste of copper in his mouth. He smiled, teeth lined in red. "Get behind me!" He commanded, his left hand would attempt to push to girl away. An act of chivalry? Perhaps. That would mean that it was habit, civil obedience. Vladimir was hardly obedient...

There was a second melee that was ongoing, between some girl and a part giant. He thought that all of the part giants had vacated this school following the incident. The incident that occurred approximately one year ago in this very room. When those part giants caused a ruckus last year. He did not make it to the Fall Ball that year. No reason to look into it, he did not need to know of every impending disaster. He could stand his own.

A behemoth would amble towards the trio. He recognized the teen, @Hugh Lowe. He had attempted to accomplish a union some time ago with the boy, only to be met with indifference. No, not 'indifference'... there was a bile he could almost taste in his reaction. "Don't worry about the girl Vlad. She'll be in the back."

"Keep away from her!"

Vladimir roared.

"Vladimir can handle his own business. How about we go and dance over there for a bit? If you would allow me to guide you?"

He did not have the time to stop her if she chose to walk off with the giant while he was being assailed. His date stolen by a part giant, he was left in a fight against a random youth with a vendetta. The theatrics involved --

"I'm sorry if this is all very confusing..."

"Shouldn't be picking fights you can't win," he advised young Holmwood. His right curled into a tight fist, he had no qualms exchanging blows. He was bigger and stronger than his assailant, he could leave the youth a red puddle on the floor. He did not start the fight but he could finish it.

...

It would never go past the menace of his words as an unlikely youth interceded. @Selim Faust, the boy from their impromptu tea party. The gardner turned into a rattler. His jaw clenched and he took in a sharp breath. "It is dangerous," he warned. His eyes darting from Flash to Hugh Lowe.

He would let Flash walk away. "No ice," Vladimir replied after an unnaturally long pause. "I need to watch ," he muttered. His arms planted on his hips, he stared into the crowd. "You're less... twitchy than I recall." The first and only time they had interacted specifically, Selim was medicated and he was still a dangerous mess.

Stats:
Human
STA 10 • EVA 15 • STR 10 • WIS 5 • ARC 5 • ACC 10
Abilities: Not telling yet.

Interacting with @Elizabeth Isaacs as Emile LeDoux
Mentioning @Elisabeth Erner as Rosa Swann & @Caelan Stewart as Verena Marigold
Closed to other Interations
Bolded Text: French | Regular Text: English | Color: #BF4040
Post Tracker: X | X | X

Florian was a bit agitated from the whole ghost rider thing. He figured this was some strange way the professors at Hogwarts wanted to stir up the Halloween spirit. Well, Florian was not interested, not one bit. The balls he had been to were elegant and tasteful, not full of this ridiculous fake questing, as well as this strange music. I mean, sure it fit the Halloween theme, but was it necessary? No. At least not in Florian's eyes. He hoped Rosa was okay, but now was not the time to dwell on it. He was on a mission. Find Verena, and fast.

Of course, his hunt for Verena was cut short as he ran into someone who was the last person he wanted to see right now given all the commotion and childishness that was occurring at this ball: Emile. Emile seemed a little upset about something, not quite his usual punchable self. He apologized quite snippily at Florian, responding with a German insult. Problem is, Emile must have forgotten that Florian grew up in Strasbourg, right on the border between France and Germany, so of course Florian knew exactly what name that Emile called him. Perhaps he didn't speak fluent German, but he could understand bits and pieces due to his upbringing. And of course, what child wouldn't learn every insult they could in another language? The fool.

"What... did you just call me?" Florian said in a menacing tone, his eyes forming narrow slits that could be seen through the holes in his pirate mask. "I think you better change your tone... and quickly, my pretty little Emile." Florian knew the boy had a bit of a crush on him and he hoped that 'sweet' compliment would hurt Emile even more since they both knew it would never be... or perhaps Emile was just in denial. Either way, he hoped it would hurt.

If Emile's attitude continued on, the boy was certain to get what was comin' to him.

Action: Taunting Emile
Stats: Stamina: 5 - Evasion: 7 - Strength: 4 - Wisdom: 9 - Arcane: 4 - Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Foulplay