Blossom Ball Dancefloor Event Closed

@Morfran Griffith | @Elizabeth Linscott

"Professor Griffit-" the boy exclaimed as he ran back onto the scene, eyes widened in shock. How in the world did the welshman move so quickly over tough terrain and leave him behind? It seemed that the professor had already done most of the work in putting the fire out, using an impressive water spell that even left him gaping. The arc of clear liquid soared over the heads of panicked students and the girls hauling pitchers, rushing onto the roaring flames and extinguishing them with a massive hiss. The smoke slowly subsided, clearing the air, and gratefully Isaac took a deep breath. Thinking hard, he made sure to keep the spell in mind for future disasters: Aguamenti. Who knew if a fire could rage again in the future?

As he gazed around at the students, Isaac felt ease wash over him. They're safe, he thought wearily, rubbing the ash from his cheek, they're all safe now and no one has to worry. Scanning the campgrounds, he saw the distinctive dark long hair of a Slytherin first-year, the one who suggested throwing dirt in the first place. Illowy! Isaac remembered suddenly the second he saw her face. He felt especially happy to see Illowy alive, considering the kind of predicament he had left the rest of the students in, with a burning blaze.

The first-year was about to turn to Griffith, giving him a word of heartfelt thanks, when he suddenly spotted a familiar figure near the fountain. Running on sore feet towards them, with a jolt he recognized Elizabeth. She's alive! But, but...

She appeared so weak and smokestained. Guilt burned in his throat. Even if she was making charges at a burning table when he had seen her before, she was just trying to help.

He gave Professor Griffith a glance full of worry. He didn't know how far the professor's good will extended, but Elizabeth needed help. Gazing up at the welshman with a piercing gaze, he asked, "Is there any way you could heal her? Like a spell? Or does she have to go to the infirmary?"

Interactions- Ruby Cazares 

With the scrubby, Scottish grass under the soles of her shoes, Cleo Cabello made her way by the Great Lake and towards the gathering of people that was the Blossom Ball. The first, pink streaks of sunset spread across the sky like fire catching, and the glow of many candles was gradually beginning to show in the dying daylight. Technically, the ball had already commenced, but Cleo knew that she would be able to slip into the crowd of people quite easily, knowledge gained from many previous encounters with tardiness.

Before taking in any of the noise and people, Cleo instead focused on the environment. It was not a chilly evening, instead a crisp dusk that promised the imminent arrival of Springtime. The trees held an acceptable amount of green leaves on their limbs, and though the air was damp, Cleo could still feel the warmth of the ending, sunny day. The birds in the trees tweeted their sorrow about the beginning of another frosty night, but Cleo could not share their sadness. As she approached the warm glow of social interactions that wasn’t quite visible over the hill, she couldn’t hold in the bubble of excitement that curved her lips into a smile.

Young wizards and witches milled around on the grass, each unique now that most were not clothed in the black school cloaks that were obligatory to wear during lesson hours. The piece of fabric Cleo was currently wearing closely resembled a sack with head and arm holes, but luckily Cleo had had enough sense to tie a white belt around her waist to stop said sack from drooping off of her slight frame. To add to her already unique outfit, Cleo had draped a flowing lavender scarf over her shoulders and put white and red tennis shoes on her feet. This wasn’t like previous times when she hadn’t given any thought to her clothing, now, she wanted to make a statement. She didn’t want to make a fashion statement,  more a statement about her beliefs in individuality. Cleo believed that everybody should be able to look and do what they liked without being judged for it. She realised that the world could never fully be like this, but it never hurt to dream.

Looking up ahead, Cleo saw a girl she thought was Ruby. Her face morphed into perculiar expression when she saw the Slytherin girl. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Ruby, she just looked different to normal. She stood, looking beautiful in a blue dress that outshined Cleo’s, but Cleo couldn’t help but think that there was a hint of wariness in her stance or that she was just a bit more uptight than usual.  She started to aproach her, but a scent on the breeze caused her to turn rapidly. It was the smell of burning. The Ball was now visible to her eyes, but she had not anticipated the chaos that surrounded it. Acrid smoke rose from a tablecloth on the refreshments table, flames flickering through the smog. The din of student’s voices rose with the flames, and several daring people were trying to put them out. Only a few were successful, but it looked like Cleo had arrived after the peak of the drama. Older students were taking charge, but some people had still gotten hurt. Cleo turned and surveyed the surrounding landscape for Ruby. She couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather be with at that point, and she really wanted to make sure the other girl was okay. Cleo craved Ruby’s intelligence and cool in that moment. The truth was, fire scared her, because, in her mind, it wasn’t natural. It wasn’t a force of nature that could not be avoided or destroyed, because it was the destroyer, the opposite of life.

“Ruby?” Cleo shouted into the night. She wasn’t known for being a sociable person, but lately Cleo had been interacting and thinking about Ruby Cazares more often, and considered them friends after the serious topics they had previously discussed. 

~ * ~

The fire was growing, building, climbing towards the sky. It posed a huge possible danger to the students, but Ruby could only think about its beauty. The way the flames flickered and danced, the colors… she had always been fascinated by fire. She even found the smell of the smoke quite appealing too. To her, it was reminiscent of summer bonfires, winter log fires, and generally times of happiness, laughter, peace, or comfort. She had never really been endangered by it. Perhaps that was why her reactions to the fire were so different. She wanted to be closer to the fire, not necessarily to end it.

She took a step forwards, and eventually that turned into a slow walk. However, it was not really like a moth being drawn to a flame. She was looking around – still watching, listening, and observing. She didn't feel inclined to help with the fire. There were enough people trying to deal with it already, surely they would be able to scrape together some intelligence… as long as it was sufficient to figure out how to put the flames out, it didn't really matter. Perhaps someone would even have the sense to go get a more knowledgeable person, like a professor. Was that too much to expect from them?

Her apparent lack of faith in her fellow students might be appalling to some, but she didn't really care. They'd figure something out. Part of her carefree attitude towards it came from the fact that a lot of this could easily be repaired with magic. If anyone got burned, that could be healed. Many things could be put back together – and if not, they didn't seem too expensive, anyway. Besides, this was Hogwarts. Did they really expect an entire night involving a gathering of most of the student body to go smoothly? The only real thing that would matter would be traumatization – mental things could not be cured. What was there that could really cause a problem? The fire didn't seem to be spreading, and none of the students really seemed to be hurt. The only mental or emotional problems would happen to people who had already been dealt damage. Whether it was last year's events or something from their childhood, those things had already happened, and they couldn't be undone without literally going back to meddle with the past.

So, despite the chaos that seemed to be around her, Ruby remained still inside. However, as she was passing a group, something interested her. They were talking about how suspicious the night's events were, and that something seemed wrong. Oh, how right they were, or seemed to be… Although Ruby had only been here for a short amount of time, she had been slipping around unnoticed, listening to conversations and piecing things together. She had also been lurking around the outside before entering, and so she could offer that new knowledge and the intelligence that she already had to the group. There was definitely something wrong. On her way over here, she had even heard people… voices, at least. They were ones she didn't recognize, but that could really be voices of most people in the older years. Nevertheless, they had been very… careful about how loud their voices were, and they had seemed suspicious. They had headed off in directions away from the ball, but not towards the castle either. They had also had a strange sense of purpose… This wasn't even including some of the strange conversations she had heard – with older students seeming to target people. Maybe they were just being creeps, but that, too, was worth punishing, even if it wasn't as sinister as some of the things that seemed to be going on here.

She was preparing herself to speak to them when two things happened: a professor arrived who began successfully putting out the flames (how nice, some student actually realized that young children with barely any spell knowledge couldn't do this themselves), and she heard a shout of her name. Why was her name being shouted? Who on earth would need her, and what did she have to do with this? She then realized that the voice had been Cleo. The question still stood: why was she calling for her? Now, the young Slytherin was torn between going to find the Gryffindor, or talking to the group and possibly helping them solve some of the mysteries that seemed to shroud the event. She was forced to make a choice. Sorry, Cleo, but if something's happening here, then it needs to be revealed, she thought. Nevertheless, she glanced around and eventually located her. Since she was still a decent way away from the group she planned on talking to, she waved at Cleo and then gave a thumbs up, clearly seeming to say "hey, I'm here, I'm okay." If Cleo wanted to, she could come join Ruby – but that was up to her, and Ruby didn't mind either way.

With that out of the way, she approached the group. Some of the things she had overheard in different conversations had already been mentioned. For example, she had managed to catch most of Rosie and Edwin's conversation, as well as the words of the older students near the punch. She had also seen Xailah's dramatics (although Ruby didn't know the name of this girl) and heard some of what had happened. What could she offer…? If it would be more convenient for her to join the group's dancing, or if one of them pulled her into it, she would join them.

“Hello. I hope you don't mind me inserting myself here, but I heard you lot talking about some of the things going on here, and I agree. Things have been very suspicious. I was late to arrive here, but on my way, I passed some older guys talking. I don't know if they were students or not, and I couldn't hear what they were saying because I had to hide to stay out of sight. However, they weren't heading in the direction of this ball or back to the castle. I'm not sure what that was about or if they're even involved in this, but it might be something. I think some of these students might be involved in something bigger… either that, or they're just up to no good. No matter what, they should be stopped.” She debated apologizing again – she really didn't like bursting into conversations like this when she could easily be found annoying, and now was not the time to get people irritated with her. She hoped it was alright, though, and that she hadn't entirely been repeating what they already knew.

~ * ~

Elizabeth barely even registered the professor’s appearance, and continued trying to drag the tablecloth to the fountain. Just as she was about to dip a part of it into the amber liquid, she heard a hissing sound and turned to see a giant spray of water hit the fire. Someone found water? Where? she wondered as she followed the stream of water to...a professor! “Oh, thank goodness” she whispered hoarsely, dropping the tablecloth. Relief flooded over her. It was over. They were safe.

She still heard lots of talking, but couldn’t distinguish who was saying what. Her thoughts were mainly just getting away from the fire. She quickly moved farther away from the table and commotion, to assess the damage to herself. The girl felt weak, and still winded. She took another deep breath, but like earlier, simply coughed before getting a full breath. She dropped to the ground beside a tree, utterly exhausted, but began examining herself. Her dress had scorch marks all over it, and there were small holes where the fire had touched the dress. Her shoulders burned, too, but she was relieved to find only redness, like she had been sitting in the sun too long. Her palms were a different story, with large blisters covering them, and there were varying degrees of burns all over her arms. She touched her face and winced as she felt a searing pain. Now that the adrenaline from the craziness of the fire was dissipating, the pain was beginning to feel more intense. Should she go the hospital wing? How long would it take to heal? Would there be permanent scars? Those were questions that popped up in her mind.

She imagined her parents’ angry looks if there were scars. Of course they’d want to know what happened. And when she told them, the would never hear the end of it. “What were you thinking, throwing yourself at a flaming table?!” they would yell. Why, indeed.

Interacting with @Elizabeth Linscott

A small smile twitched on her face when a familiar silhouette appeared by the professor. Issac. Perhaps he had been running less like a scared bunny and more like a swift fox, retrieving help after all. She would have to remember to thank him once the chaos was finally over and mentally, she apologized for ever doubting the lad.

She turned again to have another reassuring glance that everything was alright when she caught sight of her friend, sitting against a tree and assessing her own damage. Leaving behind the group of girls she'd been with, she hurried over to her friend to make sure she was alright. In retrospect, wasn't her best idea, her chest and lungs still burning and aching. Even in to her own ears she could hear how her breaths wheezed and labored, but she refused to show weakness or pain until she was sure the danger was gone.

Part of her was still angry that the girl had been so careless, failing to think through her own plan. Once she reached her friend, she put her hands on her hips, "You stupid, silly girl." she spoke firmly, "Throwing yourself in that like some sort of Kamikaze! Honestly, are you completely mental?" Normally cold, blue eyes looked her friend up and down for a moment before softening as she slowly knelt down and sat at Elizabeth's side, gingerly wrapping her own blistering arms around the other girl, careful not only for the sake of her own pain, but for the Elizabeth's as well, "You silly Hufflepuff," she spoke gently, suppressing a coughing fit, "I'm glad you're okay." perhaps this may have been the first time she'd shown any kind of gentility since arriving; but she was genuinely glad the other was okay.

"You know," she began as she pulled away slightly to get a better look at the blonde's ash stained face, "We're going to be washing the smoke smell out of our hair for the next week." Illowy offered a small, finally genuine, smile.

Interacting with @Illowy Magnard

"You stupid, silly girl. Throwing yourself in that like some sort of Kamikaze! Honestly, are you completely mental?"

Elizabeth had closed her eyes, and was busy wishing for the pain to go away, when she was startled by fear friend’s familiar voice. She almost protested at the Slytherin’s remarks, but decided against it. She was too exhausted to argue, and besides, her friend did have a point.

“I know,” she mumbled as Illowy sat beside her. She felt Illowy’s arm go around her. She winced ever so slightly. She knew Illowy was trying to be gentle, but it still hurt a little. Nevertheless, the young Hufflepuff pushed away concern for herself and focused on her friend, who had blisters on her own arm, but was mostly unhurt. Still, she was concerned. Hopefully the fire would be out soon.

She smiled slightly at the girl’s joke. “Perhaps,” she replied, hoarsely. “But at least we will never be able to say that parties at Hogwarts are boring.”

She leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes again, directing her attention to other things. It was getting cooler, and sometimes a wind would blow, making her face and palms hurt a little less. “Illowy?” she said after a minute. “If you hold your arm out like this,” Elizabeth demonstrated, “it might make your arm hurt less...at least until we can talk to the professor.”

"Wouldn't that be the bloody truth. My mum told my plenty of stories about going to school here, and there was lots of insane things that went on while she was in school, but the parties were always tame, according to" she shrugged, releasing her friend to lean against the tree with her. Resting her head back, she allowed herself to enjoy the cool evening breeze on her face. Her whole body was sore and hot it seemed, and at this point, all she wanted was to get back to her dorm and go to bed.

One eye opened when Elizabeth spoke. With a tired smile and a lazy shrug, the girl shook her head, "Don't worry about me. I've got a high pain tolerance." fake it 'til you make it, right? Of course the girl hurt and stung, but she wasn't about to make a big deal of it right this moment. Right now, as she waited for the chaos to die down, she wanted to focus on keep her breathing sufficient and steady, fighting every urge to cough; even as breath caught and shuttered painfully in her chest.

For a moment though, she faltered in her fight, taking too deep of a breath that pained her lungs, choking her for a moment before it devolved into a fit of coughing and wheezing. She turned away from the blonde for a moment until she could catch her wind once more, giving a sheepish look, "m good." she assured, offering the O.K. sign with her fingers and leaning back into the tree once more, keeping in mind to try to keep her breaths shallow for a time being.

The screaming, and shouting died down, as did the fire. She had not noticed the professor coming into the area, to extinguish the growing flames. But she did take notice of a girl heading in the direction of the group. She turned for a second as if to walk away, but then the girl spoke.

“Hello. I hope you don't mind me inserting myself here, but I heard you lot talking about some of the things going on here, and I agree. Things have been very suspicious. I was late to arrive here, but on my way, I passed some older guys talking. I don't know if they were students or not, and I couldn't hear what they were saying because I had to hide to stay out of sight. However, they weren't heading in the direction of this ball or back to the castle. I'm not sure what that was about or if they're even involved in this, but it might be something. I think some of these students might be involved in something bigger… either that, or they're just up to no good. No matter what, they should be stopped.”

Xailah stopped, and turned to the younger girl. She stood in silence for a brief second, before replying. "They ssshould be ssstopped, and they will be ssstopped. I-" The sound of a dying fire made her pause " -That would be time for me to leave; don't mean to be rude, but I'm late for a very important date." People were staring to turn their attention away from the fire. Thats a sign. I must go. "If you want to accompany me, then do so, but don't follow too clossssely, or immediately. People might take notice then. If you choose to sssstay here, please try to ssstay in a group, especially if you drank the punch." She would not wait for an answer from the group. She pushed through the crowd of onlookers.

The woods were significantly cooler, and quieter than the party. Every so often Xailah would stop and listen for the crunching of leaves, to tell if someone was following her. It was hard to tell, considering that the party was still fairly close, and people could be heard conversing. She found the location that she had dropped earlier. There wasn't really a nice spot to wait for anyone except for maybe the trees. Yes. They would keep her safe and out of sight for the time being. Her skirt made it hard to climb, but she was able to get to a few sturdy limbs, and plant herself among them.

She was aware of the fact that there was a big possibility that she was meeting up with no one. That would be quite disappointing. Her eyes became two large golden rings, as her senses heightened. Cradled between limbs, she tried to make herself as small as possible; as if she were some nocturnal animal. Out of sight out of mind? Right? She scanned the ground below her looking for any kind of movement. She held her umbrella tightly to her chest.

@Andrew Vance & @Elijah Huang

Erin was if nothing else curious. There was a certain order of operations, first she approached the boy, the girl, the painting, the animate object or the creature. They either responded to her with indifference or avoidance. Second, she would force them into a situation that they would rather avoid. They would bare their souls without ever realizing. Finally, she would glean something from them or borrow something else. Andrew Vance represented an easy, quick, good time. Well, a good time for her. Elijah represented an unknown, not that he looked like much of a scrapper, but she knew better than to base everything on a peripheral first impression.

She entered the dancefloor with him and she would start digging…

"Dance is perhaps the one thing I can consistently do reliably,"

Interesting, a charming response even. Confidence laced with a bit of humility. He was likely used to a very different reaction from people. People were probably drawn to him. Polite young men that say nice things draw others in. Erin was not like others. She found his charisma to be a distraction, one she could liken to a tapestry hung on a wall to hide a gaping hole. Unfussed she prodded a second time.

"I can lead quite well, thanks."

How kind of him to assuage her. What would she have done if he had two left feet or could not lead! Well, she would have done what she was most used to doing, take control. She might have been disappointed but she went with it. Her hand in his, her other hand on his shoulder. For the external viewer, one that did not know her, they might have almost seemed normal. Elijah could in fact dance, a skill they both shared. Purebloods learned a great many things besides magic and lore, dance among them. Erin continued dig, getting only a slight reaction when she asked about his attire. She could feel him tense, but his words were calm enough.

"Neither, surprisingly."

She was spun around. If he was paying attention he would possibly notice something unusual. Her long indigo hair mostly hid it, the silver marks on her back and the bruise at the base of her neck. If he looked closer he might then notice, the make-up that usually ended at her jaw extended further. Had he been aware of her shenanigans he might already know that there had to be marks. Erin seemed to seek trouble as often as she started it. A few weeks ago, her leg was broken, she had only recently lost the limp. She was not even favoring her ‘better’ leg any longer. She would end the spin drawing herself closer than the regulated nine inches once she faced him again. She was not shy, nor was she afraid of boys. “Oh really?”

"I came down for food, maybe to mess with someone, and instead found a poor boy in desperate need of a Prince Charming to save him. So, here I am... dancing with the devil herself, apparently."

Calling her the Devil. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she replied. Was that the answer he was looking for? The first year had balls. “I suppose you are supposed to be the hero of this story then?” She liked things that were black and white, yet so very often others liked things grey. She looked back towards Andrew, Elijah was right the boy was in desperate need of saving. She would have eaten him alive. It would have been fun. She would look back at Elijah, the heels making her tall enough that she had to glance down. “I suppose you know that you are in mortal peril…”

A disagreement had sprung up, some big guy and some weird pseudo-goth girl. The guy was bleeding and having a fit about it. His rage came out in a wave, pushing the weird girl back into a table. The candles would rock and then spill over, wax would spill. The cloth tablecloth would combust into flames and chaos would ensue. It was this intense sense of fear, panic and rage mixed with confusion. It was utter bliss, she would blink longer than she should have as she savored this splash of color in this dark, empty abyss. Yet Erin would not pause in her steps, a dance was rarely an act of passion, it was a measured series of movements. When she opened her eyes she could see the reflection of the fire in his eyes, she was not missing a thing.

"Do you feel like playing heroine tonight, Miss?"

She shook her head. No, not really.

"Or perhaps instigator?"

“The devil is no hero,” she confirmed. ”It would seem that this is more a job for you…” she would have used his name but just then she realized she had no damn idea who she was dancing with. “It is going to be harder for you… to play the role of a white knight when in reality there is nothing you can do but watch it burn.” For some reason the Professors thought it was suitable to teach the children how to start fires but not how to extinguish them. “Little cups of punch and palms full of water can only get you so far. But you can always pretend.” She was still measuring him still, fully expecting him to break from the dance and make a show of gallantry. The effort futile, but the show mattered to the showman.

Griffith had finished soaking the area, finishing off whatever was left of fire with a simple fire extinguishing charm, he turned to stare at the small group of smoke-covered students that had luckily not all fled at the first sign of a professor. It was possible, he supposed, that it wasn't their fault. But that seemed incredibly unlikely. The professor's current theory was that some student had misfired their incendio and was left at a loss for what to do, letting the fire get worse and worse.

"Alright, I would like to hear from all of you exactly what happened."

It could have been an honest mistake, a misfired spell of some variety or another. But it could have also been done on purpose by one of the many students who consistently got trolls in their "Socially Adjusted" pop quizzes. Maybe magic messed with your brain somehow, maybe Wizards were just naturally crazy but it bothered him how many students here were broken, or closed off. Just... not right.

One of them looked so bad off the professor had mistaken the boy for an inferi as he was trying to break in to the stables. There was one ravenclaw girl he had heard of that had heterochromia, and had tried to climb down Ravenclaw tower with a pair of knives. He had heard rumors about a hufflepuff that sparkled in the sunlight and had an inclination for violence, and so many more students that needed psychiatric help on so many levels.

But he was not going to render judgement until the stories had been told. His hands slunk back into the cavernous recesses of his pockets, as the tall man squared his shoulders unconsciously, wondering if Fuzz bean was hungry yet. He looked up suddenly when a flare burned bright across the sky, coming from the cabins. Who had sent that up?

"And while you're at it, what's going on over there?"

One of his hands came out of the pocket just long enough to point towards the faint glow in the sky before it vanished once again.