Mikey walked under the archway and into the little bar, the smell of liquor and smoke suspended in the air as if not knowing how to depart. He had no idea what it would be like, but it wasn't this. For a moment, he stood just beyond the doorway, eyes accustoming to the dulled light. The ballroom had been a spun fantasy, but this. This was a dream disguised as wit. There was an odd shiver that raised hairs at the back of his neck, not from cold, but atmosphere. As if someone had attempted to craft something plain and beautiful here. and fallen short. Or, worse still, succeeded only in as much as you can for not being real.

The bar was too tidy. Too polished. Stools were aligned as if they would be out of place if you sat down. Dark oak radiated under magical orbs, and Mikey couldn't help but think that something wasn't quite right, as if the room as a whole was holding its breath. There was a very slight lingering flavor of something bitter mixed with the normal aromas like perfume, peaches, whisky. Underneath it all, the air was charged, as though something unseemly had been said here and the walls were still trying to shake it off.

He spotted a couple of folks, actual grown-ups, already seated. A guy in black robes who looked like he was chiseled out of the same rock as the bar itself, still and ominous. Mikey's own breath caught before he realized why. That was Thaddeus Athanatos, wasn't it? The name that hung around school like a myth with too many telling. Mikey had never met the guy before, but all of his instinct screamed to not look for too long.

Sitting next to him was a teacher Mikey did recognize, Professor Lécuyer, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Having a teacher should be comforting, but it wasn't. Not here. Not now. The two men weren't speaking much, but the tension in the space between them was oppressive. As if something had just occurred. Or was going to occur. Only now did Mikey catch sight of the small wetness on the floor behind the bar. As if someone had spilled something. He swallowed.

“Well,” he murmured under his breath, just loud enough for Avery and Elizabeth to hear. “We’ve definitely made it to the ‘interesting’ part of the evening.” His voice tried for lightness but didn’t quite manage it. The grin he offered was thin, more apology than amusement. He shifted back toward the girls, attempting to anchor himself in something familiar. "Still want to duel, Elizabeth?" he asked, eyes darting from her to the unfamiliar room, then returning. "We may have to move outside if it's too full on the patio."

He looked over at Avery too, shooting her a more hesitant look. You okay? It said, wordlessly. Because something was off here. And for once, Mikey had a pretty good feeling it wasn't just in his own mind. But still. They brought him here to get something done. And he was not going to allow other people to ruin his night.



Mundane Action: Arriving at the bar with Avery and Elizabeth, observing the scene

Mentioning,

Interacting with: @Elizabeth Stonewall and @Mikey Forville Mentioning: N/A Date: 08/10/25

Word Count: 333

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Avery didn’t like this. It was too silent. Too plain. Something wasn’t right. Avery felt a feeling of dread creeping up on her. Why had she accepted the invitation to watch a duel play out between her friend and someone she had met briefly in a tower? It was almost like torture. Why had her father made her go? Why did he have to be so intent on keeping up their family pride? Didn’t her father know that the Athanatos clan would be here? He of all people would know how truly dangerous they could be. Avery had seen it tonight. She couldn’t be alone in this place if she wanted to keep her life. That was why she had followed Mikey into the bar. She couldn’t burden Dylan when she had the feeling he just wanted to spend some time with Val. A girl Avery suspected he liked as more than a friend, and that he was too afraid to admit it. Avery noticed two men sitting at one of the tables. She recognized them both. One being her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and the other? Well, Avery had only heard of him. He has been the one that had declared the boy getting married as an Athanatos instead of Pride. Avery guessed he was the head of the clan. The one to watch out for and not be left alone with. Avery shook her head when Mikey looked at her. His eyes asking the question he was too afraid to say out loud. Her hand subconsciously found his and gripped it. Worry showing briefly in her eyes before it faded behind the mask again. For some reason she didn’t let go of his hand. Something about the warmth of feeling that he was there and real beside her soothed her and made her feel more at ease. Though nothing could tame the fear and feeling that something bad was going to happen. Something that may even change her life.

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Stats:

stamina ◦ 7 | evasion ◦ 6 | strength ◦ 7 | wisdom ◦ 7 | arcane power ◦ 6 | accuracy ◦ 7

Abilities:

’s Grace, Fearless

Mundane Action: Observing the room and waiting to see if duel will happen.

Magical Action: None

Elizabeth hesitated as she saw who was in the room. Her instincts told her to leave immediately, but she didn’t. She wasn’t scared if she wasn’t going to bother the two men.

She chewed on her lip as she processed the question aimed at her. There were some things to consider, especially since she was in the same room as someone she’d been told to avoid by her parents. After a few minutes, she spoke with a firm tone.

”Well, I’m not sure that the patio is empty. It is a good place for a private conversation, and there’s always someone having one of those.” She looked at Mikey, her eyes still having a focused look in them. She hesitated as if she was choosing her words rather carefully. ”I think it’d be better if we figured out a better time for a duel since it’s more than likely others have already moved into the other rooms.”

With an annoyed sigh, she pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, sweeping the hair from out of her eyes. She pulled her hood over her head and slid her hands into her pockets. She felt glad that her mum had been in a good mood when they left, because otherwise she would never have come in a hoodie and shorts.

Quickly clearing those thoughts, she turned back to her surroundings. If anything, she didn’t want to be caught off guard or miss out on anything said that was directed towards her. She didn’t want a repeat of last time.

Mundane Action: Rethinking her thoughts about the duel
Magic Action: none

@Mikey Forville
@Avery Gray

Mikey didn’t try to sit. He couldn’t. The bar stools seemed more like stage props than actual furniture, anyways like they would crack if you attempted to rest on them too casually. Or perhaps you would. Maybe you’d be the one to crack.

His eyes wonderd as Elizabeth answered, silently absorbing the room once more, with the encroaching feeling that it was absorbing him as well. Her voice was strong, but pensive, and she was correct. Dueling out on the patio may have felt rebellious and wild in the ballroom. Here, it felt like tempting fate. He nodded, slowly, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Fair,” he whispered, scarcely a sigh. “Maybe… not at this place. Not now.” He should have been bummed. Frankly, he was relieved. The back of his shirt was already sticking to him with how tense his shoulders had become, he hadn’t realized until this moment.

The silence between the two grown men behind them was stifling. Mikey risked a glance again at the bar. Thaddeus was drinking—slowly, as if the glass in his hand were more a point of honor than a quenching drink. The other, Professor Lécuyer, sat one chair away. Intentionally separate. Mikey attempted to decode their faces, but it was like staring at pictures of statues. He leaned in a little toward the girls then, lowering his voice. Not just soft but low as well. As if the question itself could land him in hot water.

“Do the Athanatos hate people like me”

His eyes remained on the floor as he said it. On the shimmer of a spilled beer by the bar. On the faint scratch lines in the counter’s shadow. On anything but them. There was no venom in his voice. Just a boy with a question he’d never had the courage to ask before.

He didn’t explain what he meant. He didn’t say “Muggle-born” or “poor” or “different.” He wasn’t obligated to. It was all baked into the attitude. Into the way his shoulders curled in just a bit, like he already knew the answer and hated it. He was still up. Still breathing in this way-too-shiny room that had attempted to masquerade as normal. Still holding his hand in Avery’s.

“Because I don’t think I’ve ever been in the same room with one,” he continued after a pause, pushing a half-smile that failed to reach his eyes. “It’s a little like being the only moth at a butterfly ball.”

He rolled back on his heels and cleared his throat, attempting to conjure the funny once again, to propel the discussion somewhere more secure. “I suppose that’s one more thing for my summer tales. Stumbled into a bar with an Athanatos, didn’t get jinxed.” He knew he said it too loudly and knew they should keep moving. Probably as far and as fast as they could. “Where did Dylan end up?” Mikey said thinking it was a good excuse to go somewhere, anywhere else.




Mundane Action: Talking quietly. Leaving the bar wherever Avery and Elizabeth decide to go.

Interacting with: @Elizabeth Stonewall and @Mikey Forville Mentioning: N/A Date: 08/10/25

Word Count: 329

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Avery sensed that something wasn’t right in the room. There was an off putting feeling about it. There was something about how quiet it was that put Avery on edge. Like if she made one wrong move she would be killed. The only question lingering in her head being what now? Avery could feel eyes lingering on her and she knew that she was out of place. A twelve year old girl in a bar with a man she knew was dangerous. What would her father say? What would he do? He was the auror, the experienced one with dangerous people and things, not her. At least, not yet. She sucked in a breath and squeezed Mikey’s hand at his comment about the Athanatos feelings about who he was. She gave him a curt nod that he alone would notice and hopefully know what it meant. That they probably did and they weren’t to be messed with. “I’ve competed against one of them in Quidditch. I can’t remember his name, but I remember how he acted. He seemed. . . dangerous. Someone not to be messed with.” Avery whispered quietly. Knowing all too well what could happen if she was overheard. Avery tensed at his comment about not getting jinxed. The night wasn’t over, and Avery knew that things would only get worse if they didn’t get out of there. She would rather go back to the suffocating ballroom than be in the same company as a man she was afraid of. She knew exactly what he could do, and she didn’t want to stick around to find out what would happen. “Dylan? Oh. I think he was still in the ballroom waiting for Val.” Avery took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing at a whisper, “As much as I don’t want to go back there, I think we should. It’s safer there since there’s more people. More distractions so no one targets us.”

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Stats:

stamina ◦ 7 | evasion ◦ 6 | strength ◦ 7 | wisdom ◦ 7 | arcane power ◦ 6 | accuracy ◦ 7

Abilities:

’s Grace, Fearless

Mundane Action: Chatting with Mikey and Elizabeth and saying they should go to ballroom.

Magical Action: None

Elizabeth tugged off her hood, planting her feet firmly on the floor as she did so. She listened to their whispers, and when she spoke, she too lowered her voice, but not quite to a whisper. "You two can go back. I'm gonna stay and scout this room out." She glanced back towards the ballroom and then back at Mikey and Avery.

She started a slow walk around the room, starting on the far end away from the two men at the bar. Pulling out her wand, she ran it along the wall, poking it in random places for no particular reason at all. Getting lost in her thoughts as she walked, she would only jolt out of it if she ran into something or someone called her name in an attempt to get her attention.

I can't wait for school to start again. It'll be fun to see the firsties come in and get used to everything. She thought, her eyes misting over the way they usually did when she was deep in contemplation. Her head tilted slightly to the side away from the wall, and yet she continued walking slowly, her hand falling back to her side as she slipped her wand back into her pocket.

Mundane Action: Walking alongside the wall
Magic Action: none

@Mikey Forville
@Avery Gray

Orion did not speak at first, silently watching as Finnegan corrected him. Connor. Not Conner.

"... This is what I said, Mr. Conner." Orion replied at last, keeping his voice smooth as silk. He allowed the slightest hint of confusion to cross his features. Perhaps he did not know the difference. Perhaps it was the French accent. ... Perhaps he was doing it on purpose.

He knew his name, of course, he had known his name since the first piece of homework he had turned in. He'd graded many of his papers over the last three years, all as impressive as the last. Still, it was better for the Gryffindor to take insult. The quicker he left the room, the better. There were things in this room that Orion could not protect him from. If he had to insult him to send him away with his tail between his legs, he'd do it.

He didn't want to see Finnegan's parents picking out a coffin for their fourteen year old son.

Orion swirled the contents of his drink as he watched Finnegan retreat out of the bar. "You would compare my company to that of Mr. Connor? You wound me, Thaddeus."

Thaddeus' words lingered like smoke. "I do," Orion said before taking a small sip of his drink, "I understand the distinction well." A half-blood bride, a second son named as heir due to the failings of his eldest, the echo of a glance towards his own personal life. Towards Galahad. "Perhaps I have gone soft with age."

At the mention of Finnegan, his jaw tightened slightly. He paused before setting his glass gently down on the bar's surface. "He's clever," he said thoughtfully, "Too clever to be kept on a leash, but not clever enough to understand the crate door has already been locked behind him. I suspect that will be a hard taught lesson for Mr. Connor."

He took a slow sip of his drink before glancing sideways at Thaddeus. He exhaled slowly, "I'll pass the message along, but in my experience children don't warn of broken stones unless they've already been hit by one. Has the boy approached you outside of today's events?"

"Ah, I'm afraid you'll find my life terrible mundane these days." Orion chuckled to himself. He was happy with his quiet life, but he knew it would sound unappealing to Thaddeus. "Though I suspect you already know this. As for my... Side projects, the answer stays the same; it follows my rules and pays well enough."

Action:
Mundane Action: Drinking

The kids who decided to duel in the middle of a cramped bar. It was named the Small Bar after all! This alleged duel within arm’s reach of the actual Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and one of the more politically lethal men in the wizarding world. Before dozens of witnesses and a breach of the Use of Underaged Magic Law. Yet somehow they had managed to commit both the dumbest and the luckiest act of the evening. A single moment of foolish bravado wrapped in suicidal timing.

They were out of the way when the wall exploded.

Glass and splintered wood rained down in a glittering storm, baptizing the guests in chaos. From the wreckage, a mountain of a man emerged, the kind of presence that silenced entire rooms just by existing. The kind of man that made you instinctively cross the street, or the continent, if you saw him coming. A walking slab of meaty menace and muscle, barely contained in Muggle casual attire.

He didn’t bother with introductions. Most would not know him, he was not that relevant.

“Never thought I’d see the day you went in-person to a public event,” he growled, voice low and rasping, like gravel being chewed by something angrier than teeth. “Risky... At your old age.” Not a greeting. A threat.

And to the north, the air grew colder. The hearth flickered out, that sickly green now extinguished. Once cold and barren, three feminine figures stepped into the room beyond. Women, maybe. Or something like them. Assumed to be part veelas, blonde, pale, beautiful. But a shimmer of otherness clung to them like perfume.

They didn’t speak a recognizable language. Only one word was uttered between them, heavy with intent, though meaningless to anyone present in that small bar. The boy they confronted, Harlan, a teenager. He might have been startled by their sudden, apparent interest in him, but he remained apparently intact. He stood, dusted himself off, and began to move away with a loping gait.

Interacting with: @Mikey Forville Mentioning: N/A Date: 08/10/25

Word Count: 319

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The ringing in Avery’s ears was defeaning. The explosion was bad. She was lucky to be far enough away from it to not be hurt, but the after effects still hit her. Her head swam. Black spots dotting the edge of her vision as she gripped something hard. She tried to turn her head, but the ringing was too much. Avery looked up. Coughing as the dust from the explosion settled. Her eyes widened at what she saw. A man she didn’t even recognize walking out of the rubble. He was all muscle and menacing. All Avery wanted to do was run out of the room, but something was holding her back. Or maybe it was a certain someone. Mikey. Where was he? Her hand had been ripped out of Mikey’s when the explosion happened. She tried looking for him by making quick, subtle glances around the room, but her eyes were still unfocused. Her ears still ringing. Her head pounding. Avery barely even heard the others. Three women that she also didn’t recognize. Their language far beyond understandable for human ears. Her eyes widened as far as they could. She had to find Mikey and get out of there. Was Dylan okay? Was he still in the ballroom? Avery stayed there gripping the bar and waiting to see if she could find Mikey. She was afraid that she would pass out from shock at what has just happened if she didn’t take it easy and rest a moment. One goal ran through her mind. Find Mikey and get to Dylan in the ballroom. All she wanted was to see his smiling face and comforting words. She had to know that both of them were okay. If she lost either one of them that night. . . she would never be the same as she was before. Then again, she probably wouldn’t be the same after that night anyway.

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Stats:

stamina ◦ 7 | evasion ◦ 6 | strength ◦ 7 | wisdom ◦ 7 | arcane power ◦ 6 | accuracy ◦ 7

Abilities:

’s Grace, Fearless

Mundane Action: Getting reoriented after explosion and preparing to leave for the ballroom.

Magical Action: None

Elizabeth was snapped out of her thoughts by the explosion, and before she could think about what had just happened, her feet had moved her to one of the stools at the bar. She quickly sat down and took a deep but shaky breath. Her earlier idea to have a duel, which she and Mikey had agreed not to do, had put them out of range for the first attack. She almost laughed at how lucky that had been, but she didn’t.

Well, on the bright side, my summer isn’t so boring and dull anymore. She couldn’t help but think to herself. It was true that up until now, she’d had a boring summer, but now she didn’t care about that. She only cared about seeing how this ended, and, if at all possible, surviving to the end of it without losing any limbs.

She pulled out her wand again, realizing how bad of a choice it’d been for her to wear shorts today. Focusing solely on what she was about to do for a moment, she pointed her wand in the direction of the doorway and said in a clear voice, ”Fumos.” Her thoughts at this time were hoping that, if this succeeded, it would allow even a brief moment to plan her next move.

She held her wand tightly in her hand, not daring to put it away again, even for a single moment. If anything, she wanted to be prepared for when more chaos would erupt. Unlike other times throughout the spring and into summer, this was the first time where she didn’t think about what had happened during the fall of her second year. For that, Elizabeth would later on be grateful, even if everything else today went pure downhill from this moment onwards.

Mundane Action: Sitting at the bar, trying to form a plan
Magic Action: Casting Fumos