Expédition d'Irland PV Closed

Scott did suppose he should've expected that the two of them couldn't stay in the blessed ballroom for very long, now that he and Ami were properly on better terms than ever. That she would've put an end to it, somehow both instinctively and subconsciously refusing to play if it wasn't on her kind of stage... Though it was completely without any hostility, and in fact with a patient smile, that he thought of this: because no matter how impossibly distracted his friend could be, the very fact that he could call her his friend again made up for it. So. She'd pulled him by the sleeve to venture the cold, undecorated corridors, after what felt like mere seconds since they'd just arrived? So be it. The two were past "Simon Says", and past "Cat and Mouse". Where Ami went, he could go too. Or, he could leave immediately and grin at her as he did so. That's what was better now, than it had ever been then.

Rolling his eyes and laughing at her as the hurried pace came to a sudden stop, just behind a group of other students having done the same, Scott took a few paces back and leaned against the opposite wall. There wasn't a shadow of doubt in his mind that whatever was to transpire in this corridor would be just as intriguing and horrible as his dear friend was hoping, but it had never been his cup of tea. No, his cup of tea could be heard in the music playing from around the corner... and he wasn't about to let it get cold.

"You two alright solving a mystery without me?" He mused, watching as Ami and the boy they'd just introduced themselves to start poking at a painting. He wasn't really expecting them to hear him, and was in fact rather pleased with watching Ami sink more and more into what she was doing. He didn't feel like dragging her back like this. Didn't feel like dragging her at all. "Because I think I'll head back." No reaction. "To the ball." None. "Now." Adventurers...

Smiling to himself, Scott tapped his heels to the floor and set back towards the oaken doors to the ballroom again. There were only a few twists and turns between him and the environment he'd so missed. And all things considered, why had that been? As far as Hogwarts balls went, Scott didn't have the best track record... Perhaps it was he felt going there without Ami, however excited he'd been to bring her before, felt like he was somehow walking there un-jinxed. There'd be no fire, no mosps, and no fighting this way. Only food, music, and the possibility of meeting brand new-

Scott stopped hard in his tracks after taking the last turn, so that his heels would've surely squeaked against any other flooring. One of the "brand new people" he'd just been about to mention to himself, appeared to have spilled out into the corridor. This, in itself, felt like an ambush on his unprepared manners... But that was not what had made Scott stop.

Oh.

Feeling as though his shoes were suddenly glued stuck to the stone floor, Scott began involuntarily to tug at his golden cuff links. Both of them. Multitasking. Because down the hall stood a girl. She was turned away from Scott and hadn't noticed him yet (at least he prayed that she hadn't), and so all he could really see from where he was standing was the royally red dress and the shimmer of something bejewelled in her long hair. But that was enough for Scott's current tunnel vision of a mind (which it should be said had been notably terrible at recognising people by their appearance up until this very moment) to make the connection.

But he did not know why. Perhaps his subconscious was sensing something very off and terrible about her? And that his best option at the moment was to run and yell in the opposite direction before she turned into a horrible fanged beast and ate him. But though the thought of slinking back around the corner was appealing enough to touch upon convincing, Scott just couldn't bring himself to retreat.

Couldn't bring himself to walk any farther, either, for that matter. Fanged beasts can have that effect sometimes. But she wasn't really fanged, was she? Because she turned around now. To both his horror and joy.

And that's when history decided (against the persistent advice of all experts in the field) to repeat itself. Scott watched her fall.

Oh you have got to be joking.

Scott wasn't sure at all to whom he was complaining. The only sure thing was that the display had managed to wedge his feet out of their traps.

This cannot be something that girls just, do...

He would have been ashamed to suggest so himself, but given his experience so far it wasn't an outrageous query at all... Though the large difference this time, was that Scott had no way of catching up to this one before she hit the floor. Well, that is her fault, Scott thought, because if she hadn't kept me glued to the spot like that then I could've definitely helped. But right after thinking this, the boy found himself forgiving her ten times over with every step closer he took. And by the time he stopped right by the edge of the girl's skirt, he was blaming himself for the second world war.

"Are you alright?"

Absolutely horrified] with his own autopilot (someone's getting fired), Scott watched as his knees bent lightly and his green-clad arm stretched itself out, his charms and cuff links shimmering along with the pin in her hair in the mild torch light.

"I saw you fall, is what I mean. You didn't hit anything, did you?" You just watched her fall onto cold, stone floor. Say anything else. "Don't let it bother you though, even if you did. I'm sure if I wore a skirt that size I'd fall flat on my face more times than I could count." Not that.

"I mean-" Scott swallowed and shuffled his feet a bit so not to even touch the fabric on the floor. "No, I didn't mean anything. Sorry. Hello."

Reducio

Scott's outfit, because Charlie is amazing.
+ a venician mask of a woman's face that he's 100% forgotten he's wearing at this point.

𝓢ylie lay on the cold stone floor for a moment, stunned. It was almost laughable; she could practically imagine the disdain that would have surely radiated from her mother. For her entire life, Sylvie had been prepped: she was to act like a lady, hold herself with dignity and grace. Taking tumbles way in no way portraying the image she had been taught to uphold for her entire life. How had she strayed so far away from it all? It was this ludicrous castle, Sylvie told herself. Since the moment she arrived, something had felt off. She was no longer on her home turf, the environment she had spent her entire life becoming accustomed to and learning its insides and outs. It felt as if her powers were draining from her.

The last thought that had passed through her brain came back in the few seconds she lay immobile on the ground; if there was anyone around she hoped they were far away enough that they didn't decide to come over and investigate. Of course, seeing a girl lying on the floor was certainly a sight that would cause intrigue, and the fact that she was not moving added to the likeliness that someone would inevitably come to investigate.

She scrambled around on the floor, moving the layers of her dress to find her footing again. As she went to push herself back up off of the ground, a voice spoke, almost startling her back to the floor. Good grief, Sylvie thought to herself. Apparently, she couldn't even have a moment to herself in the most secluded part of this godforsaken castle; she had to have made a fool of herself in front of...

She finally took the time to look up at the stranger who had approached, who was now offering a hand to help her up. Defiantly, she pushed herself up to full height. Sylvie did not need any help standing up; she was perfectly capable of maneuvering her limbs. The boy standing in front of her was barely taller than her, and with her heels, she matched his height which made it easy to directly make eye contact. As she studied him, she had to admit he looked quite dashing in his green suit. Perhaps he was a...what was the House? Slytherin? Sylvie couldn't keep track of all of the different Houses at all of the schools. She opened her mouth to speak, as he had asked if she was okay and it was certainly rude to not respond at all, despite how mortifying it was that he had seen her fall. However, he kept on rambling and Sylvie tilted her head as she waited for him to finish.

"Oui, oui, je vais bien, I am okay" she said. It occurred to her that he most likely did not know French and was glad she had thought quickly enough to add on the English at the end. As she studied him further, Sylvie made a quick decision. Despite her fall, she could still turn this situation around. After all, she had been looking for someone to charm, a good distraction from the fact that she was here all alone. She smoothed down her hair and her dress before presenting a bright smile. "Hello, I am Sylviane," she introduced, offering up a hand to shake. Yes, she thought to herself. This would be a perfect distraction.

Reducio

Sylvie's Lovely Creature and Charmer are now activated

And so it was to the backdrop of all his British and Prussian ancestors sighing in unison from beyond the veil, that Scott realised, like so many of them in their own day, that he had not been prepared for the French. And just like it was for them, he was convinced it would prove to be the end of him. Here and now.

Oui, oui, je vais bien, I am okay.

Scott snapped his arms back sharply to his sides when she got up on her own, and began instead to fidget obsessively with the ends of both his sleeves. Unfortunately, this usually so discrete mannerism couldn't be executed as neatly as it usually was, since the multitudes of charms hanging off his cuffs betrayed his nerves with a mocking jingle. Immediately upon hearing the noise, Scott winced and pressed his palms flat to his sides- regretfully imagining a clandestine cartoon character stepping in a rogue bucket.

And still, even if Scott had somehow dared to move a finger, despite the jingle, he wouldn't have been able put it on whatever was making him act this way.

That is, of course, until she faced him. Because she did so with a smile.

Though a large part of the girl's face was still covered in an intricate golden mask (something between a Lace and a Colombina, encrusted with royally purple gems), it did nothing to truly hide her. And Scott felt infinitely grateful for that. Instinctively, he reached his hand up to his own face, feeling for his own mask in a worry. But it wasn't there. Noticing it where it lay resting between his arm and torso on the other side of him, Scott panicked in an unfamiliar feeling of exposure. Most likely he'd taken it off automatically as he'd run over, in an attempt to be as polite as possible, but now he wished for nothing more than to hide behind at least that... Because she was very beautiful, this girl, and for some reason still insisted on becoming only more so with every second that passed. Never before had he felt as petrifyingly disadvantaged. Or as happily so.

Hello, I am Sylvaine.

Scott, whose eyes had not left the girl's face in time, did not notice the movement her hand made at first. She stretched it out for him to shake, but at this point he'd already replied with "Yes... of course! Scott Alexander! I- Oh!" before snapping his head down, and carefully receiving the gesture. (As a testimony to the Lord's mercy, this was executed with zero jingle).

Letting go of her hand, somehow both regretfully and like you would a hotplate, Scott assumed a position that he greatly hoped looked more relaxed than the borderline militarian stature he'd fallen into before. And from there, he began his thorough analysis of how normal people breathe.

"I apologise. It seems tonight like some of my manners are nowhere to be found. It's a worry, really, and horribly poor timing as it seems..." He gave her a smile, then shot his head back down a bit. He wasn't avoiding eye contact with her, but the wish for concealment hadn't yet gone completely away... If his hair were longer, Scott would most likely be trying to keep the strands of it between them, like a barrier. But in lack of it, he found himself ultimately wishing he had a fan.

Then he realised how stupid he would look and was glad he didn't.

"However, I'm glad you're okay! Would be a real shame too many of our guests meet with the harder ends of the castle. I say it's difficult enough not to get lost or knocked off your feet in here even after years of familiarity..." In a frightful second, Scott tried to do a once-over of the girl's features again to make sure she truly was a guest, and that he wasn't just being painfully rude to another Hogwarts student. "But should its denizens fail to be polite enough, I would've hoped there be an air of hospitality to be found in at least the castle itself. Alas.

Unless it truly was their homely spirit that brought you from the ballroom and to the corridors in the first place. I say ballroom because, while I could just be incredibly ignorant, and please forgive me if I am, I hesitate to believe this is your school uniform..."

Scott made a gesture towards her skirt, then pulled his hand back immediately with a shy laugh.

"However incredible it would be.

No. Surely you're on your way back. Please, I don't want to stall you on a night like this one. It would fel too much like a crime!"

Bold = English, Italics = French | @Scott Alexander

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𝓐s he grasped her hand, then dropped it as though she had shocked him, Sylvie's eyes narrowed ever so slightly while she studied the boy in front of her. Something about this masquerade themed ball was making everything that much more mysterious, and therefore, that much more intriguing to her. He was dressed in a dashing emerald green suit, adorned with golden cuff links and accessories. Mask strewn on the ground a few feet away from them, Sylvie was able to get a full look at his face. His golden locks draped around his face...his surprisingly stunning face, Sylvie realized. Of course Sylvie would never waste her time with someone not up to standards, but she was shocked to see how well he fit hers. Scott.

Her eyes locked on the movement of his hands, fingers brushing over his cuff links and rattling the charms attached to them. Sylvie was used to seeing these kinds of mannerisms, being the experienced host she was. Somewhere deep in her heart, she did feel for Scott. As a much younger girl, Sylvie herself had garnered some of her own nervous habits; of course her mother quickly stomped them out, likening her constant tucking of her hair behind her ears to that of a desperate call-girl looking for clients.

It was best to focus elsewhere, as bringing up the nerves might only make the situation more awkward. Scott now was rambling on about his own manners, or rather, the absence of them in this current situation. Sylvie now understood he must have been referring to the incident...her fall. While she knew the rules of etiquette, she had to admit that she was very glad Scott's manners had taken the night off in this particular circumstance. It would have been infinitely more humiliating to accept a hand up from a stranger who had just seen her make an absolute fool of herself.

Fighting the heat she felt rising in her cheeks, she plastered on a smile and shook her head. "Not at all, Scott," she reassured. "Your concern is appreciated." From the way he spoke, it seemed as though he had his own history of fighting with the architecture of this school. In Sylvie's brief time at Hogwarts so far, she had found the campus to be exceedingly charming. Of course, the caliber could hardly compare to her own academy, a breathtaking chateau situated in the middle of the most majestic garden Sylvie had ever seen. But Scotland's rolling hills had their own beauty to them.

"I have found your castle to be quite charming, though of course, there truly is no place like home," she noted, referring to the people and structure of Hogwarts alike. Of course, there was no need to mention how most of the students here seemed highly barbarous and Sylvie occasionally felt as though she had stepped into some scene out of William Golding's Lord of the Flies.

At his next remark, Sylvie could not help but let out an amused laugh at the thought of her gown being her school uniform. As much as she loved dressing up and impressing the world around her, she could not imagine having to do so every day for school. No, her silk uniform was much more appropriate. Though, with the colder Scotland weather, perhaps not so appropriate for this setting. "No, no, I was in attendance at the Masquerade Ball," Sylvie explained, though it seemed as though Scott himself had come from the same place; if it was not obvious from his own attire, then Sylvie felt confident in the assumption based on the mask that had been stashed between his arm and side.

"I cannot help but to notice that this is not your school uniform either. Have you come from the same event?" she asked. From his words, it sounded like he was not planning on going back into the ballroom. She supposed her plans could be altered, but at the same time, the thought of prancing back into the ballroom with a handsome boy attached to her hip seemed like a perfect solution to the lack of attention she was receiving. "Perhaps you might accompany me back?" she proposed. "Should I find myself in another...compromising situation, a helping hand could only be of assistance. Unless, of course, you are heading out?"