Event The Fall Ball (Masquerade)

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Open to Interactions! Currently with Marion...
Mentioning: @Thomas Lestrange, @Marion Davenport, @Maria Dee, & the Vladimir Situation

The boy, contrary to what Marion may have thought, knew nothing of her identity. True, he knew that a girl by the name of Marion Davenport was one of the witnesses of the supposed murder that had incarcerated Piérre's somewhat hero, but thinking of the name 'Marion' to be a common and delightful one, and possibly combined with the fact that he was thinking of nothing but ways to cheer this pretty classmate up, Piérre didn't give a second thought as to what he had said or how it could have affected his dance partner until she stiffened in his gentle hold. With a start of confusion, Piérre glanced up at her, his eyes wide. Had he said something wrong? Whatever it had been, he hadn't meant it! He... he....

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you feel_" Piérre's apology was cut off by a shout from his partner, who had noticed a scuffle breaking out just across the way. A giant kid, a member of the S.W.A.G. club, Piérre remembered, and a dark-haired, yet dapperly-dressed boy were fighting alongside a few other members, including Piérre's own captain, Rafael! A part of the boy wanted to run towards the fight and try to break up the fight... but then again, what could he do to stop it? The lightest kid over there had to weigh at least fifty pounds more than himself, and could knock him down just as easily. No, he would be better off over here, still refraining from entering the struggle in the slightest.

Yet, as soon as the fight had begun, it had worn away, the struggle breaking up and each individual returning to their own agendas. Marion complained to Piérre, complaining that there was, to put it bluntly: "No rest for the wicked."

Sadly, Piérre nodded along, his eyes glued to the ground for a bit, trying to ignore the nausea that had risen from watching the fight. He still couldn't understand what inspired people to hate, let alone to fight one another; fellows and friends in this school. Rivalries, no matter how deep set, were trivial when compared to the grand scheme of things. "I know. What inspires such violence and segregation between individuals, I can't guess. I wish people would learn to get along, and then there wouldn’t be violence, right?” There was always hatred, be it in color of skin, gender, or in the purity of blood, as the case was with magical folk. Piérre had learned to never reveal his own status as an Unknown, lest more trouble arise from knowledge which could be misinterpreted. As a matter of fact, Piérre didn’t care what blood status anyone was, for the same reason why he never wore the same house colors two days in a row. It was just another fixation of a festering open wound, a way to divide families and people into boxes, neat and simple, almost like a caste system.

”Let’s not think about that now, okay? Just... listen to the music! Do you ever feel like melodies give you wings? Give you the ability to fly? I mean... music is so colorful, and it isn’t bound by any law made by any position of power. Like dancing! Whatever you feel, express it in dance and song. Whenever I feel upset or nervous, I like to hum, and make beautiful music for anyone around me to listen to!” Cheesy? Yeah. Definitely cheesy... but effective. Music had always had a place in Piérre’s heart, a special temple that he kept pure and holy, unmarried by the world that sought to destroy and corrupt. Nobody could corrupt Music, and if they tried, Piérre would fight for it, until his last breath.

Another boy approaching the two of them caused Piérre to stop in the middle of his thought, watching the almost confident strut of another couple baring close. Piérre smiled and waved, trying to be as polite as possible. Perhaps they were friends of Marion?

At the snide comment stating that Marion had found a ‘taller’ boy, Piérre’s smile faded. What was that supposed to mean? She had just come over and asked to be consoled. There wasn’t anything going on between them, it was just a friendly dance, and who was Piérre, ever a gentleman even in his youth, to deny her comfort no matter the degree? “Uhm... I’m afraid you’ve got it_” His stammer would peeter away as he realized that the new arrival was more concentrated on Marion. Looking between the two of them, Piérre felt his heart begin to beat faster. This was... not a friendly interaction, even with the bribe of pumpkin juice. The boy’s date seemed civil enough, even if she was quiet and demure. Piérre would smile and wave at her, offering a small ”Hi.” as she drew close.

The tension in the air was almost as powerful as the electric zing that Piérre could feel collecting about himself, the powerful empathy that never seemed to fade. He wasn’t scared... this was concern. As Piérre’s head snapped back and forth between the two, as Marion began to verbally defend herself... Marion... Marion was scared. She wanted out, by the way she spoke tersely, by the way she was now poised. Closed off and more distant than when she had been with Piérre... or at least more closed off.

Something about condolences. “Con-condolences?” Piérre echoed quietly. He didn’t go farther, trying his hardest to put together pieces. “Wh-what’s going on? Are you two friends or something?” Unlikely, but it was worth a chance. Perhaps Piérre was misunderstanding the situation entirely. Perhaps there was nothing actually bad going on...

Unlikely. By the verbal abuse both were doling out to one another, and the snooping that Marion claimed that Thomas, the boy evidently, was doing about her life. These were not friends. They were at odds. God, Piérre hated cloak and dagger conversations. Out with it!

“Um, pardon me. Perhaps now is not the right moment to bicker? I can tell there are deep seated tensions here...” Piérre paused, trying to think of the best way of going about this delicate matter. “How about a walk, and then each of us can cool down and come back and speak rationally and civilly!” He brightly concluded. Yes, a walk would be nice! They didn’t even have to talk about anything... ”Since I don’t know much of anything going on... I mean... Maybe we could talk one at a time and see each other’s perspective...” Nervously, Piérre’s hands began to pick at the leather strap of his broom-sling.

Marion had gone quiet. Was he nervous, angry at Thomas, or was it more deeply seated? Perhaps it was something that she could not, or dared not mention. In which case, the direct option was perhaps the best. Occam’s Razor.

Yanking the broom from his shoulder and quickly hopping on it, Piérre bit his lip. He didn’t want trouble. “I still think that walking away is the best option. Let’s take a few minutes and then reconvene here, yeah?” Piérre nodded at both Marion and Thomas, still smiling and never letting his voice waver or rise. It was even, calm, and hopeful. Perhaps there was a way to get out of this perilous situation without coming to blows. Maybe there was another way he could cheer Marion up!

”D’you like flying, Miss Marion?” His green eyes sparkled with hopeful cheer as he offered a hand to her to help her up. “We could fly around the castle a bit, let the fresh air clear our senses?” He glanced at Thomas and his date. “Fresh air can do us all good, don’t you think?”

Piérre has mounted his broom, Offering Marion a Lift, and is
prepared to defend against violence Dodging, +6 Eva?

Mod Note: Piérre has brought his Moontrimmer, Luciana
He chooses to place his +3s to Evasion (+13) and Stamina (6)
He also possesses a 10% Auto-dodge rate

Statistics and Abilities
Stamina 6 | Strength 3 | Evasion 13
Wisdom 10 | Accuracy 10 | ArcPower 5

Keen Eye: 25% Chance to Spot something Important
Calming Presence: 10% Auto-hit Rate. Allies: @Piérre Marchonné, Romeo Marchonné, Hanzo Fransson, @Rafael D'Spacito, & @Marion Davenport

I'm too lazy to actually do art in an hour's time, and I'm working on the costume still, so have this image reference of Piérre's badass Mister L cosplay...

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Primary Interactions: @Maria Dee | @Marion Davenport | @Piérre Marchonné

Akari was a little overwhelmed, as she wasn't answering with more than a nod. And she seemed surprised at the littlest things, like his hand on her waist, and how close their faces were... and his hand pulling her attention up and away from her feet ever so gently...

Merlin's beard, she was adorable.

Though she did seem to relax soon enough, answering his compliment. "Why, you're welcome," Drew smirked- he couldn't stop smiling for some reason. Maybe it was because he was dancing with this little lady in his arms.

Akari's eyes left his, looking around. There were definitely less people than there had been- how long had they been out? That really didn't matter- what did matter was they were having so much fun and they would stay out as long as they could. By then, Drew had relaxed, too, and instead of holding Akari more at a distance to respect her personal space, they had both shifted into a comfortable position, not too close if Akari wanted room, but not exactly far away either. "Thank you for coming with me," Drew said fondly. "I can't imagine going with anyone else." He was going to make a joke about being left out and awkward while Elisabeth and Greg talked in Spanish, but he didn't want a stupid joke to ruin the moment. "You're just such an amazing person."

He would wait for her reply, listening, no matter how long or short she talked.

Then, if silence overtook the conversation, Drew would raise his eyebrows and whisper, "Ready?" Then, in a particularly rushing part in the music, he would put both hands on her waist and lift her up into the air, spinning her around. His hands would keep her steady while she was up, maintaining her balance, and his eyes on her the entire time. He would put her down and they would rejoin, him holding her a little closer than before.

"And so, side's were taken, stances made known, the raven had already taken his first few steps into the abyss, and he wasn't one to do things halfway..."

Action: Cast Depulso at @Selim Faust to prevent his attack

Interacting With: @Ethen Emrys

“I also think that maybe... I should also start calling you my girlfriend... I don’t know how this works but I think it sounds much better to me,”

The words tickled Atlas' mind as she played them back the entire evening. Every time she and Ethen's eyes met a small giggle or hair tuck would take place but unlike before it was harder to look away now. They had spent the entire evening attempting to dance to every obscure song that band played and while she felt exhausted she wanted nothing more than for this night to never end.

Gently taking Ethen's hand, Atlas led him to the dessert table as she picked up two pumpkin-shaped croissants handing one to Ethen. Holding it in the air comically, Atlas began her little vow.

"Ethen you are the best friend anyone in the entire world could ask for and I still can't fully wrap my head around us dating but nevertheless I am excited. Even though we are a gooey couple now I don't want us to lose our weirdness and all the eye rolls we get from other students. So yes I will be your girlfriend as long as you promise we can be gooey and weird at the same time."

With that, the young fiery girl smashed the dessert into her mouth chomping down on it as crumbs poofed out of her mouth with each breath. Scrunching her nose, she quickly took another pumpkin croissant smushing it into her mouth until she could barely close it as she could feel herself holding back laughter in fear of spitting it all up in Ethen's face.

"Buh yuh cah buh tuh!" She mumbled feeling her cheeks straining against the added pressure. She couldn't remember where their tradition of filling their cheeks like chipmunks came from but she assumed it probably started when they first met.

Staring wide-eyed at him, Atlas waited for his attempt as he never backed down from a challenge.

ACTION: Enjoying the Evening with Ethen and being Gluttonous!

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Any godmodding has been agreed upon by both parties i.e. Atlas and Ethen

STATS:
Stamina: 8
Evasion: 8
Strength: 4
Wisdom: 7
Arc. Power: 7
Accuracy: 8

ABILITIES:
Fearless
Effect: Fear effects such as a dhmpir's aura, the ability terrible presence, a lycanothrope's intimidation or certain charms, potions and jinxes that would normally cause a fear effect do not work on you as you are immune to them.

Atlas's Dress and New Hair:

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Action: Trying to keep three full croissants in his mouth
Stats:Stamina: 7/ Evasion: 7 / Strength: 5/ Wisdom: 8 / ArcPower: 6 / Accuracy: 7
Abilities:
Keen Eye | Calming Presence

Roleplaying as Roberta Martin
Open to Interaction

Closed to Further Interactions

Hexcode= #967bb6

The ballroom was simmering down, various cliques forming as the swing of the party came crashing to its end. All of which Roberta was electing to ignore in favor of the awkward boy in tow behind her. She would not be forward enough so as to drag him along behind her, but instead she would turn every so often and dare to see if he was still charmed enough by her graces to follow. Giving him confident flashes of her brilliant grin to reassure him, she was ready for a good time so she led them towards the center of the Ballroom.

She had felt as though she wanted to dance so badly before, when her date was ignoring her, but as she walked briskly the only thing that filled her mind was the imaginary looks of jealousy her boring date's face would bear as she danced with someone more easily persuaded and hopefully more present than he had been. Why she still had a need to impress him and earn his attention was a sticking point for her, something she would have admitted to letting go of if asked about, but in actuality still stubbornly held onto despite appearances.

For Roberta, feelings were hard to beat, and these were hard feelings of a caliber she had never been measured against. Perhaps by accident, the young duelist came to the conclusion that if these feelings were an obstacle to her happiness and she couldn't manage to let them go, then they would likely become an obstacle to anyone else who tried to cheer her up and maybe that was her own fault for having high expectations. Roberta certainly didn't want Noah to be unhappy, she had only just met him, so she let the feelings go if only to be happy with him for the evening.

Picking up pace, she passed by a weird couple of kids, both of whom were speaking, laughing, and mumbling incoherently while stuffing too many croissants into their mouths. Normally Roberta would have laughed until her cheeks burned and hurt from smiling, but now she felt as if she was missing out on something far greater than the joy of laughter. Though they seemed happy and their laughter was contagious, the happiness didn't infect her like it seemed it had done to the others as she had let her boy problems escalate to an uncomfortable level and was so focused on forgetting them, she couldn't.

No, she wasn't going to be satisfied until she got what she wanted, or at least what she thought she wanted, and what she thought she wanted more than anything was to go dancing and forget the whole thing in its entirety. There was something about music and dancing that carried her away. She continued to push past them, all of them, and whether or not they got in her way Roberta would make it out to the edge of the dance floor where she her undiscovered dreams of being worthy of someone else's admiration might come true. Here is where she would face her fears, as her father said, "A smart warrior chooses their footing wisely."

With time escaping them, and the ball coming to a close, the warrior of a ballerina was admittedly more frantic than composed and slightly more anxious that the boy behind might reject her due to the blunt way she had spoken with him earlier. Turning around in a tight twist, she would spin elegantly and offer her hand to Noah, the navy blue dress bespeckled with stars would settle before she gave him an elegant curtsy and a pleading look. "Care to dance?" She would say in her gentlest voice. A voice that sounded more like a wounded apology than a request.

The invitation to dance was hopefully enticing to him, as she suspected that few would come to a ball alone and unwilling to dance with a stranger, but she still acknowledged to herself that he might reject her and leave her at the edge of glory. Would he leave her hanging in this moment of truth? She would keep her eye on the prize either way. She was eager to prove herself worthy.

Action: Asking Noah to dance with her

Mentions @Noah Page

♢Closed to Interactions♢
♢Interacting With♢
@Rafael D'Spacito

An eyebrow quirked up at Rafael's suggestion that he would expect more from Hogwarts. He did honestly have high expectations compared to Ilvermorny. Especially for a school that was taking care of one of his favorite people, of course they needed to have suitable facilities and events to keep him entertained while Rett was away. "I hope one day you can come see Ilvermorny, just so you can see how high my expectations are. I think you'd enjoy it, possibly as much as I do. But, you're right Hogwarts has continually kept the expectations high." It was amazing what the students could plan too, a lot of the things he seemed to attend had been created and curated by students while supervised by the adults. While the students were indeed a mixed bag of personalities, it seemed like the right ones tended to shine through. Like his darling Quidditch captain.

While the fights broke out and feelings were hurt, Rafael was the one to capture his attention. Rett's sweeping glance across the ballroom couldn't help but land on the boy's face next to him. He was truly one that had been sculpted by whatever God existed, everything about him was absolutely perfect in Everett's eyes. A perfection he could only hope Rafael saw in him. While Rett was overall confident in his time next to Rafael, hand in hand with him, there were times when doubt seemed to sink in. About how Rafael felt about him. About whether or not he thought about him while he was back in America. Rett would be a fool not to know there were others vying after his heart with how glorious he was. Not that Rett was exactly a hot commodity in his own school, but he did have his options on backup in case this trip was the one that broke his heart. While Rett saw Rafael's lips moving, he wasn't phased in to hear what it was exactly. It didn't seem all to important when Rafael accepted his offer to dance.

He gently pulled Rafael onto the dance floor with him, away from all of the chaos that was happening elsewhere. Nothing would interrupt this moment. With the boy's confession about not being much of a dancer, Rett easily slipped into the lead. Gently taking Rafael's hands and putting one on his shoulder while the other intertwined with his. Rett's other hand laid respectfully at his waist. He couldn't help but snort when Rafael called him mate. "Of course, friend." Was this some sort of cover up of some sort? He started them off slow, muttering directions of where Rafael's feet should go and the beat of the song before speaking up normally again. "Tell me, Rafael, do you kiss most of your mates? Or is that reserved for the extra special ones?" A playful tone with a bite behind it. If Rafael wasn't feeling the same way, Rett wasn't about to waste time with him. As much as it would hurt him to walk away, he wouldn't relive what happened to Johannes. Reaching out, with no reciprocation.