Event The Fall Ball (Masquerade)

Innocently and utterly oblivious to the chaos around her, Lucia's only thoughts were about how boring this ball was. Maybe next time she should ask someone to go with her - maybe Alexa would have liked to, if Lucia'd only asked. Alina was with her boyfriend somewhere, but Lucia hadn't seen either of her friends all night.

Spinning around by herself soon got embarrassing, though no-one was actually looking at her. And Lucia didn't have the nerve to ask someone if they wanted to dance with her, though that was probably the best option. What was the point of being able to dance if there wasn't anyone to do it with? Collapsing into a chair at the side of the room, Lucia took off her mask and breathed heavily - though it was night, she was still rather hot and wished she had some sort of drink to cool down with. Hadn't there been tables somewhere? Standing up, the part-Veela glided over to the table and took a glass of water. She sipped it slowly, but when she had finished she still didn't have anything to do.

A yawn confirmed Lucia's suspicions. There was nothing else for it - it was time to leave. If only the ball had been as nice as it had sounded - though she suspected that was partly due to her own nature. If she had asked someone to go with her (as friends, of course), or not chickened out from following that ghostly cat, or had the courage to ask someone to dance, maybe it would have been a better evening.

With a rather let-down sigh, Lucia left the ballroom.

Mentions : @Erin Ryan, @Ruby Cazares, @Kyle DeRook, @Selim Faust,
Interactions : @Meenauh Silmataurea and @Xailah Alptraum

The snake frozen where she stood as Verdimillious lit up the space in a shine of green in the direction her cousin had disappeared to. Mentally she kicked herself, finding Ruby would have to wait just one more moment.

She shouldered her way through the crowd of people towards the trouble. Everything was going so quickly, the girl could hardly keep up as the moment she broke through the crowd, everything went to Hell in a handbasket.

Fire.

Of course fire. It wasn't a school function without fire right? That was the least of her worried. In the mass of brawling, Illowy caught a glimpse of her cousin and his dreadful "date" as they were slipping out of the chaos... and it was a glimpse too much to bring the girl any comfort. Something about Ryan wasnt right. While she didn't fear the girl in the slightest, the way she looked, briefly illuminated in the green light made her nervous, "Ky!" she called, seeing him look back into the crowd. He looked serious in a way she hadn't seen in a long time, almost nervous; and that only worsened her own anxieties. Yet, he didn't seem to see her as he slipped away into the night and beyond her ability to help.

Despite wanting to go after them, she found herself now in quite the sensory overload. Looking around herself, everything was going insane. A boy she recognized from her house, the one who'd lit the ball aflame, was in some kind of tri-face-off with Xailah and Meenauh; well... he was anyway before Erin and Ky had gotten to him. Her eyes widened when she realized why.

The thing clutched in the Gryffindor Prefect's hand brought a sudden wave of memories. How did she find that thing?? Where did she find it?? And what the hell was it doing here??? While she wasn't terribly close to the older girl, she did trust her to a degree. Enough to instantly side with her if it meant learning more about what what going on. Whether that was wise or not was yet to be seen as she hurried towards the pair of lions, stripping her mask away once more.

"You have one of those things??" she begged to know, serious as the plague as her eyes flickering between Xailah and Meenauh, "Since bloody when? And what is it doing here?"

For Moderation :
Actions: trying to get her bearings and inserting herself into the doll altercation
Abilities: Lovely Creature
Stats: Stamina: 7 | Evasion: 8 | Strength: 5 | Wisdom: 9 | ArcPower: 7 | Accuracy: 9|

Roleplaying as Roberta Martin
Open to Interaction

Interacting with:

Hexcode= #967bb6

Noah's answer, while polite and well meaning, would be cause enough for Roberta to close her eyes and draw her lips taught to keep from laughing at his awkwardness again. Though she did not know or understand what fear drove him to question her judgement, it was at the least a gesture of respect and her last date had failed to show her even that much. Soon enough the laughter came through her mask anyways, though it was cut short briefly after it began, only to be halted by an apologetic look. It worried her to think he thought she was laughing at him. It was a defense mechanism of course. A subconscious way of keeping herself from becoming an anxious mess, which manifested as laughing at the feelings she had quietly started questioning. Second-hand embarrassment mostly, but also something different. Had he made her feel something new?

Was it desire? Was it love? Whatever the feeling was, it felt wonderful to be wanted as a partner. That they barely knew each other hardly mattered to her. This moment was their own.

"It would be my honor," she said gently without waiting too much longer lest her newly acquired date find himself with cold feet before coming to the conclusion that the punch line looked more his speed. That he sounded eager to dance, but unwitting in his approach was reassuring and helped her know what to do next. A fleeting thought, followed by fleeting foot steps led them further out onto the dance floor, and would have the pair isolated amongst their peers. She would turn to him once more, the fire of conquest in her eyes. That glimmering passion looked beyond his mask, accompanied by a confident and wry grin as she leaned forward to whisper into his ear.

"Allow me to take the lead then?" Her voice was subtle but she was making an effort to tease him. As she pulled back and looked up, she thought she was looking for confirmation. She was really looking for understanding. Not only was she trying to get a reaction out of him, but it was an effort to help him to lighten up a little bit. He was starting to look stiff as a board, and she wasn't exactly the type of person others learned to relax themselves around until they had gotten into a good fight once or twice.

She had phrased the teasing more like a question as she didn't want to emasculate him in front of his friends by taking the lead without his consent, but she was definitely taking the lead if there was even the slightest chance that he would fumble over his feet like he did his words. She had never wanted to suffer through the night with an oafish dance partner, but a respectful one who knew how to follow her lead would be a more than adequate prince charming. Taking his hand into hers, Roberta spun herself around gracefully, her bright smile returning to illuminate the mask she had carefully chosen to represent triumph.

She was slaying it, and now all Roberta wanted was to help Noah find his smile.

Mentions @Noah Page

Stamina: 8 Evasion: 10 Strength: 5 Wisdom: 8 ArcPower: 7 Accuracy: 7

I'm sorry. Is what she had said to the doll. But that sorry wasn't for the doll. She wasn't sorry for what she was going to do next. She was sorry, that her friends had gotten involved in a mess that she had started. A mess that she could have prevented. I'm sorry Meenauh. Ruby. Schrödinger. Not one of them deserved the wrath of the burlap. But that was just the thing that they would get if Xailah continued to grant it life- wrath from a rag for reasons that only the rag was aware of. That thing wasn't supposed to be in lov- obsessed. It wasn't supposed to be obsessed in the way that it was. It wasn't supposed to lust. The books on hags never covered that. Where had Xailah gone wrong? What had she done, to make the thing think that it was so horribly infatuated?

Xailah shimmied to one side, evading the spray of flames that had erupted from the wand of the short, bird-masked fellow. The deadly, orange hands clasped onto the curtains that stood behind the dispute. And Maya- poor Maya, her attempt to stop the flames before they reached the curtains, failed. Too many things seemed to happen once the flames took to the fabric of the drapes. That blonde from before, was still going at the small boy who had started the fire- only this time the blonde had a friend with her. Someone sent some green sparks into the air, painting that one spot of chaos, a sickly shade of green. Meenauh would once again cast another spell- it would miss. Then there was this scream- this horrible, bloodcurdling scream. Xailah winced, and instinctively moved her hands upwards as if to cover her ears.

It wouldn't take long to trace the source of the cry. Up above, a little angel had flung herself from the skies. Why? That was something only the girl would know. Maybe she felt that she was undeserving of wings. It was a shame that no one would be there to catch Marion when she fell. Well, actually, Meenauh would be there to catch- wait what? Oh no. That girl was free-falling towards Meenauh. She was falling on Meenauh. She was on Meenauh. Meenauh? Expecting to hear the crunch of both of their bones, Xailah looked away for a moment. But the sickly crunch would never come. Someone- the who, would remain a mystery for that moment- had cleverly Spongified the ground. Meenuah would be alright- the other girl... well, nothing looked broken.

There was something wrong with the girl that had fallen- and not just her, Vladimir too. Not that it was anything new. People knew that there were things wrong with Vladimir- just not this particular thing. The skins of both children appeared black underneath the nasty, green light. Thin veins traced across their visible limbs. They were cursed too. Xailah wouldn't have too much time to think about it, and try to wedge puzzle pieces together. There was a problem at hand- in her hand. The doll. She squeezed the doll gently, rolling its little limbs around her gloved fingers. It was getting soft. The Immobulus was wearing off. If the charm wore off completely, the doll might take the chance to escape the grasp of its captor.

The boy- the one who had set the place ablaze, and was now sopping wet- advised her to destroy the doll. Because she was a prefect. And she was supposed to protect the students. She was already a step ahead of him. It was bold of him to think that she played the role of a good prefect- that she actually cared for the title. It was bold of him to think that she gave a rats ass about everyone else in the room. Where had they been when she needed them? Calling her crazy. Cowering before her because she was a freak. Holding themselves at arms distance because she was just a little different. Thats where they had been. She wasn't destroying the doll because she was a good prefect, she wasn't doing it for everyone else. She was doing it because it had to be done.

An arm draped in black lace, reeled backwards, but came to a pause mid-swing. A few people had fled the scene- the blonde, and her boy- a few were trying to flee the scene- Vladimir and... Mary. Marion. Marion was the girl that fell. Now if Xailah knew a little bit more about Marion, if she knew that the snake was just another object to Vladimir, she might have made an effort to stop him from taking the girl and leaving. But she didn't know- even though all the signs were there- her brain didn't have enough time to process everything. So she didn't bother with him. While a few left, a few more came to take their place. One notable person approached the eldest Gryffindor prefect, calling her out.

Illowy. Of course it was Illowy. It was only a matter of time until they ran into each other here. Xailah whipped around, her golden hues landed on the blue-clad snake. "We really need to stop meeting like this." They always, always seemed to run into each other when things were on fire, or when something was going wrong. Without fail. It was almost funny in a twisted sort of way. The snake pressed, wanting to know about the thing, that the Gryffindor still had. Now wasn't really the time for chit-chat, Xailah only had a small window of time to cast the doll into the fire, before someone put it out. "I was going to tell you about it when we went to visit Griffith-" The Gryffindor quickly, but quietly interjected- only loud enough for Illowy to hear. She didn't want to get into the specifics- not here- but that would give Illowy an idea of how long she had the damn thing.

"I don't know why it is here, but it wants to kill her." The chin of her mask jutted towards her friend, who had been the unfortunate victim of several attacks. And not just by the poppet. An alarm went off in her head, and the metamorph brought up her free hand in a: stop there; sort of motion. She didn't want Illowy getting too close. The doll had attacked enough people for one night. "I can explain later." She assured the Slytherin. "You might want to step back-" A warning. The metamorphs arm went back, and then forwards once again- only this time she let go of the doll.

Closed to further interactions

Ileen frowned at the small furious boy, his ‘paper bag chan’ in her hand. Casually ignoring his insults, she tilted her head and gave him a half smile. Not a warm and nice one but neither a mocking one – it was more amusement about the current situation mixed with a little pity maybe. A soft chuckle escaped her and she covered her mouth, open in exaggerated surprise, with her hand. “What? It really is YOU?! I—” With a sigh and a shake of her head, she threw up her arms and then let them fall beside her body. “Yeah, very happy. Best wizard cracker so far.”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward – not that she was trying to pick up a fight on her own party. Ileen didn’t know Hanako very well and she didn’t have anything against him in particular, but it was fun to tease him with his exaggerated and rude behavior. “Tell me Hanako, who are you hiding from exactly? And why do you need a date so badly?” The smile still on her lips she looked around and shrugged. “I bet there are many, hopeless romantic girls just waiting for a gentleman to ask them to dance.” She stopped and tapped her chin in an obviously faked thinking manner. “Huh. Wonder why that didn’t work out for you. Can you find the error?”

Hehe. Well, that was actually lighting her dark mood and she didn’t even feel bad about being rude to Hanako. He had started it and deserved it. With that he certainly did cheer her up and she was calm enough to acknowledge that.
She shook her head and stuffed the paper bag in her purse. “You don’t need this. Your current mask is much more suitable. And I can't offer a coat to hide, but…” With a grin the young girl took her silver jacket off, weighted it in her right hand for a moment and then aimed for the boy’s head. “You can hide under that. What about that?”

Interacting with | @Hanako Tone
Post Tracker | x | x | x | x | x

Action: Trying to throw her jacket on Hana’s head

Ability: Sixth Sense
Stats: Sta:5 | Ev:8 | Str:3 | Wis:9 | Arc:6 | Acc:9

After a snark from @Vladimir Athanatos, who didn't plan to apologise at all and went somewhere else, she had just a few seconds before the misfortune struck again. She had just got up from her knees to find herself fully standing as something heavy fell down from above. The fall made her collapse to the ground and there she imagined a hard cold ballroom ground being her end. But a shout from the side saved her life most probably. The face in something spongy, a not-so-heavy something or someone on her — that was confusing but at least she was alive. She'd free herself from the burden right on time as the green light lit the scene.

Before, a long time ago, when she heard the names of the Three, she would give a lot to collect them in a single room. If she'd know who was the person that fell on her, she'd think of that before Vladimir announced her name out loud. What a coincidence. Especially, knowing that only two of them left.

The light reveals the darkness. Exposes — what it always does. Without light, darkness doesn't exist as you have no understanding of how dark it is around you.

She rubbed her head, as apparently, the fragile girl fell on top of her from the broom that was floating above. She stopped recognising the voice, though she was pretty familiar with the voice of the boy on the broom. Or at least she thought. Little mattered at that point.

The darkness could consume light if applied for a long time. Event the brightest light could be somehow affected by the pitch-black darkness. But only to fail in the end.

She might have had a concussion as she felt dizzy. @Xailah Alptraum was speaking to someone and she heard her tender metamorpmagus voice. Sitting on the ground didn't help to get a situation under control. If the chaos could be controlled at all. It seemed she didn't care for the doll anymore. She was sure Xailah could take care of it. Her Immobulus was the last touch.

Sometimes darkness acquires children. It sounds awful and is believed to be rare. But it happens and that child is hurt by it. The child will never be the same. But the child is still a victim, a target. A child cannot be dark by definition.

She slowly looked around. The figures were moving slowly as her brain seemed to be processing everything in slow-motion (it means catching faster than it was actually happening, but how?) Why there was so much fighting at Hogwarts? Why wizards were also using their bare hands instead of their bare wands? The truest mystery. At least to Meenauh. And there was Vladimir again — black as a dead swamp tree, picking @Marion Davenport — same black — two apples of the same tree.

But light can shine. Light always shines while you're looking at it. It can cleanse the deepest darkness. It can revive the true self in anybody if the heart is still beating. Children could be saved. Children can be saved.

No sounds were coming from anywhere. She stared eyes wide open into the face of darkness itself, just at the distance of a stretched arm. The darkness that had to be cleansed. They were controlled. They looked acted and felt like darkness. The shadows replaced beings. The light destroyed the shadows. She closed her eyes and strong light was coming from her heart and filling the ballroom as she thought of it. The tears were going down her cheeks in a realisation that everyone could be saved. Marion was a poor child. Vladimir was a poor child. They were pure and had to stay pure.

"Save the children," the new voice suddenly spoke in her head. The one she was expecting subconsciously. The most kind of all. She drew the wand and opened her eyes. And in the deafening silence in her head she shout out: "Lumos Maxima!"

Action: Cast Lumos Maxima. Dark to Light.

"Bleeding out isn't really fun."

Speaking to: @Aaron Jones(As Madeleine Nakamura)

Selim was wholly prepared to listen to the professor's words and to stay put. It was odd though, despite her being very obviously annoyed with him, she still cared enough to tell him to stay put, she even screamed at the retreating back of Erin Ryan (not that it did much good).

Sadly though, it seemed fate didn't want him to catch a break. Selim supposed that it would've probably been a bad idea anyway with how chaotic and dangerous everything was.

Faintly hearing the words of the Professor he had retreated to shouting out another spell to extinguish the flames he himself had started, Selim warily brought his hand to his face, feeling exactly how many pieces of fake bone were taking up residence in his cheek and jaw.

Hearing a shouted spell ('Lumos Maxima') and acting on instinct, Selim clenched his eyes shut, waiting it out. The last thing he needed was to be blinded.

(When that finished, he went back to assessing his wounds.)

There were Six pieces of porcelain-mimicry in his face, three of them being rather small, perhaps the size of the last knuckle on an adult's thumb. Two were the length of his own pointer finger, and the last was the size of his hand's length excluding his fingers. The last one was digging deep into his cheek, scraping against his jaw bone. Selim could feel it in his mouth.

Hacking up more blood Selim's foggy attention was pulled away by the desperate shouts coming from Athanatos' mouth.



The boy in question jerked, lowering his hand and looking to where the call had come from. There, was Vlad, kneeling beside the girl who had fallen, looking genuinely upset. The Raven's odd eye glinted with vague curiosity that was quickly swept away by the sharp pain that radiated through his face as he turned his head.



It took a moment for his sluggish brain to process what exactly he meant. Finally, he fished up the memory of the Ravenclaw's date he had spoken to a mere moments before he had jumped into the fray.

Merlin, where the hell was she anyway...? He could barely see, much less easily search for a face among the crowd.



With those words came an odd feeling of finality, almost like an acceptance of a fact. Perhaps that was just Selim's murky mind making up random emotions to tie to sentences spoken from likely the number one most hated boy in Hogwarts, but he didn't care at that moment.

They made his brow furrow (more pain brought on by the slight movement, it made him hiss). Why search for him?

He mentally shook the thought away, he was wasting time questioning nuances that may not even exist.

Swallowing dryly as he watched Athanatos try and carry that blight-touched girl, he tried to think through his muddled brain. Everything he did seemed like he was trying to force himself through a bog, but he didn't stop trying. He hated being vulnerable.

Finally, he came up with a half-baked plan that would be very painful and may not even work.

He was interrupted by another wet-sounding coughing fit. Red specks with blobs of rusty brown sprinkled the floor. The raven tilted his head down, letting the blood reside in something other than his throat and stomach. Swallowing pained him now, the scarlet irritating his esophagus.

Swearing once more under his breath, he took off the remaining half of his mask, revealing more of his bloodied face.

Laying the porcelain-mimick accessory on the ground, he slowly reached up and took off his overcoat, grabbing one sleeve of the dress shirt underneath and forcing his muscles to work and tear it off. It and the opposite sleeve came off with the sound of wet fabric tearing.

Blinking rapidly to clear the red fluid dripping into his eye, he took the time to tear the freed sleeves into long strips of fabric, not really caring that the old, gnarled scars curling down his arms were free to be seen by everyone around him.

Upon finishing, he laid the makeshift cloth bandages a ways to his side. He swallowed in harsh reluctance for the next step he needed to complete.

In the future he noted to himself, once again, to bring first aid kits to literally any event tied to this cursed school.

Hands trembling slightly, he grasped the first sliver of his mask embedded in his face, grit his teeth, and yanked it out. His free hand clawed at the ground below him as the expected pain came with the action.

Harshly, he threw the piece away with an arc of red trailing after it.

One down, five to go.

Of course, he started with the smaller slivers first, each of them exiting his pale skin with vermillion blood accompanying each.

By the time only the large shard in his cheek remained his vision was blurring in and out of focus and his face was considerably splashed with crimson, a gruesome scene. He took a few moments to breathe, watching the red dribble to the floor in a small puddle. Swallowing the taste of copper down, he wasted no more time getting everything over with.

Gripping the largest piece of porcelain-mimicry in his face, he yanked it out excruciatingly carefully. He closed his eyes to avoid the scarlet and likely gut-churning, new addition to the (questionable) puddle of water below.

The ensuing flash of pain made him actually whimper. It was rather shameful, seeing as how he had survived worse.

Knowing that his blood loss had likely accelerated, he opened his blue eye (The other long-since useless as it was blinded), and grabbed two of the damp 'bandages' he had made, using them to try and clean his wounds as best as he could (though he wouldn't be surprised if he was actually just infecting them more). Tying the other strips of bandages together as smoothly as he could, he wrapped the mutilated half of his face. He knew he wasn't following the correct pattern needed to treat wounds like this, but he was also on the verge of collapsing into unconsciousness, so he cut himself some slack.

After he was finished, only his left eye and ear, along with portions of his nose and mouth, were visible. His hair was a mess, being displaced by the makeshift bandages, but who cared at this point.

Sticking the remaining half of his mask on, He took a few deep breaths to check his breathing.

Slightly hindered,

No matter.

He waited for his vision to clear before standing, the action making him dizzy and stumble. He caught himself though, swaying in place, before raising his face to scan the chaotic crowd. He looked for the girl that had been Athanatos' date before everything went to hell in a handbasket.

There.

With a silent apology sent in the way of the professor that was trying to clean up this mess, Selim wordlessly stumbled away to the girl, focus blurring in and out and making him all the more disoriented, and nauseous.

[If Maya doesn't react]:

He practically careened himself through the crowd, every bump with another person pushing him closer to just falling on the ground and vomiting up his insides. Periodically, he had to hack up the blood that was trickling down his throat, knowing that if he just swallowed it, it would simply upset his stomach more.

His headache flared with each step until flashes of white were dancing across his vision, his broken (or cracked) jaw protesting against every shockwave sent by each step he took. He barely noticed what he was doing when he reached out and grabbed Miss Nakamura's sleeve (or tried to).

For a moment he didn't know why exactly he was there, grabbing a stranger's sleeve, but eventually, his spotty memory produced the pieces he needed to actually talk.

"Miss Nakamura-".... wait that was Japanese. He blinked rapidly and tried again, "Miss... Nakamura-" Just a Japanese accent, bit better, but he was finding it hard to piece together the English he needed to, ya know, communicate.

He paused, feeling a familiar trickle down his throat, making it sting. He had half the mind to turn away from the girl when his bandaged visage shifted and he forced himself to cough up the blood that was getting increasingly irritating.

Ignoring the pain that flared, he tried his best to continue.

"We... need to... go. Mr. Athanatos is leaving the ball... it's too dangerous... injured friend." His jaw ache stabbed him again and he clutched the bandaged half of his face, swearing under his breath and ignoring the instinctive pinprick of tears brought on by pain. Coughing, he continued, "I was asked... to escort you out... don't want you... getting injured..." His disorientation came back, and he stumbled a bit to the side, feeling his world tilt and sway like a note getting tossed in a storm. He pressed a hand to his mouth at the bile responding to the action. For a moment he closed his single eye hidden in his half-of-a-mask, trying to reorient himself. He felt like he was floating. "So... can we leave..." For a moment he slipped into Japanese again, making his vague irritation flare.

Troublesome...

"Need- Damnint..." He forced his mind to produce English after another uttered profanity slipped out of his mouth. He spat out a bit more blood to the side, eye flashing with growing irateness, "I need to apply... prop-er... first aid... to my-self." His world tilted once more, and he braced himself with a shift of his leg, waiting it out, "Vladimir... will wait- no... meet up with us... as soon as he can... I think he said?" Oh, there was a bit of a slur there.

The raven grit his teeth, one hand back to clutching his hotly-pulsing wounds under his black bandages.

This was going to be a long night.

♢Closed to Interactions♢
♢Interacting With♢
@Rafael D'Spacito
♢Mentioning♢
@Lydia Cooper, @Jackson Valentine

Rafael was not one that hid the emotions on his face well, everything he felt flashed across his face. Though Everett was not the greatest at reading furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. It could mean a myriad of things and he would much rather people speak their feelings than leave him to deduce them. Something that was comforting, was the way Rafael communicated comfort through touch. A gentle squeeze of the hand, a tighter grip on his waist, it made him feel taken care of. He could handle that form of communication, honestly he couldn't get enough of being in Rafa's presence, wanting to sink into his arms and disappear away from the ball just to be with him and only him.

A teasing gesture was returned with a serious tone of endearment. Rett's eyes softened as the Gryffindor boy assured him of his mutual enjoyment to be around him. For a moment, Rett gently leaned down to hide his slight blush in his shoulder. He wasn't a fan of people seeing him flustered, he did the same thing with Johannes after they had kissed over the summer. If they never see you stumble, then it never happened at all right? Rett quietly muttered into the boys shoulder, "I was kidding, I promise. I'm just happy to be here with you." Rett was much more flattering, flourishing compliments with words intertwined with rose petals. But in person, something about Rafa made him fluster. Made his heart flutter and his brain suddenly unable to come up with the words he would think adequate.

Then a discussion proposed on the dance floor. An eyebrow quirked up, curious and slightly worried. Despite the kind words was that Rafa's easy way to prepare him to be let down easily? The kiss in the hallway just a farce to hold off the confrontation? He didn't think the captain would have an issue speaking his mind if he wished to cut things off, but maybe he had misjudged him. "Should we... step off the dance floor?" He wanted to give the boy all the attention he needed, and being off the dance floor would assist in that.

But things changed, he seemed upset. Whether with himself or Rett, the pit of despair in Rett's stomach only grew larger. Concerned for him. He communicated his own comfort, gently squeezing the hand that was in him. His face painted with concern and a pained smile of trying to get him back to Earth, back to the ball from him. "Rafa, is everything alright?" He knew it wasn't. He couldn't meet his eyes, he was looking at anyone but him. This was it wasn't it? A pitiful end, a sparing of the heart after leading it on. His smile fell, the concern for himself and his own emotions rather for Rafa.

He was released from Rafael's grip, as he simply walked away. Stranded in the middle of the dance floor, tears began to prick his eyes. He watched as he approached two people, possibly from Hogwarts, he wasn't sure. Probably to tell them how silly the Ilvermorny boy was that thought he could woo a captain of the quidditch team. Ridiculous to fall for someone that lived so far away. "Damn you, Rafael." Before Rafa could reach the two, embarrass him in front of his face, he fled the ball.

♢Action♢
Fleeing the ball like Cinderella

-Interacting with @Jackson Valentine & @Rafael D'Spacito -
- Mentioning Everett Brooks ( @Willow Anderson )-

Hearing Valentine laugh made the young part-veela start chuckling as well; she didn't know why exactly, maybe it was the whole atmosphere of the dance, or maybe the fact that she was having fun. Still, she wasn't able to hold back the genuine laugh that escaped from her lips.

If only she knew that soon that peace that she was so happily enjoining would have been disrupted by the one boy she was trying so hard not to think about for the whole night. Maybe if she would have met his gaze while dancing, if their eyes would have met, even briefly, she might have been able to prevent what was about to happen.

That, of course, did not happen, but maybe it wasn't that bad, since if she would have seen him dancing with another boy, she might have reacted quite differently.

When Valentine's face showed signs of confusion, she turned towards where he was looking as she stepped back on the floor; her heart did a backflip in the air as she recognized the face behind the black mask. There weren't a lot of boys with blue hair in Hogwarts, especially that tall and with the typical body language of Rafael.

She smiled, unable to stop herself; Every time she saw those familiar, chocolate brown eyes she felt as if her heart decided to fly out of her chest and directly into the boy's hands. However, soon the smile faded away the closer the boy got. His whole body posture didn't seem too friendly, and Lydia knew too well that whenever Rafael was upset, things tended to escalate quickly. As the Gryffindor Captain got closer, Lydia could admire his outfit for the night, almost immediately recognising him as Sherlock Holmes from the TV series; he was definitely pulling the outfit off, the whole costume working quite well.

When Valentine then placed himself almost as if to be between Lydia and Rafael, the young Hufflepuff suddenly realised that he might have thought that Rafael was storming over there for her; she knew, of course, that he would never hurt her, so the thought of how the whole situation might have looked from the outside never crossed her mind. "Rafael what are you-" she started saying but never managed to finish that the taller boy had gripped Valentine's collar and got ready to punch him.

Everything happened so fast that she didn't even have the time to try and stop Rafael; one second the Quidditch Captain was getting ready to punch Valentine, the next one the younger Gryffindor was trying to move her behind him in order to protect her, managing to also avoid what would have been an extremely painful punch.

As the realisation of what happened downed on her, Lydia frowned as her eyes looked for Rafael's ones. "Rafael, what- why did you do that?" she asked him as she gently squeezed Valentine's hands as if to tell him that she was alright, before she moved her forearm away and moved to she could totally see Rafael. Her arms were now crossed over her chest, as some frustration rose up inside of her. She didn't know he was at the ball in the first place, and in a little corner of her head, when she had seen him approaching them, she had thought that he might have asked her to dance. She almost laughed at herself, he didn't think about her like that anymore -or at least that's what she believed- so he would have never asked her to dance.

Lydia sighed and took off her mask, the rabbit disguise feeling too tight on her face all of a sudden. She would then try to look for and meet the Quidditch Captain's eyes, as the frustration started to slowly fade away and was replaced by worry. Rafael had told her that during the summer he had worked on his anger issues, that things were getting better; his behaviour now surprised her, she did not expect him to react like that, not after all the work he had done. "We were just dancing Rafa, there's- there was no need for this to happen," she then said, her voice soft ad if she was trying to calm him down.
*

*Alluring and Lovely Creature are in effect.
For the mods
Action: Talking with Rafael and trying to reassure Valentine that she's alright.
Abilities: Alluring (part-veela) || Lovely Creature
Stats: Stamina: 5|| Evasion: 5 || Strength: 5 || Wisdom: 10 || Arcane Power: 5 || Accuracy: 5