The Masquerade Ball Event Closed

Open to interaction!

Interacting with @Jack Warren

Leah looked across the room to see a strange bird nearby. After a moment, it became clear that it was no bird, but a mask with a suit, which was worn by a lone student.

She supposed there would be no more animals here, but perhaps she should go over and say hi. After all, she couldn't eat the whole snack table.

With one final, longing look at the table, she drifted over to the masked stranger and looked him up and down. His costume - well, outfit - looked quite sophisticated, but something about him seemed quite familiar. Regardless, she decided to ignore that and try to interact with someone new for the... third time that evening.

"Hey," she said with a little wave. "Have you tried those tiny snacks yet?" She indicated the snack table.

She definitely had seen him before; she knew that people were often discernable by posture. But who he was still remained an interesting mystery.

"Do I know you?" she asked, her mask shifting as she raised her eyebrows. "Wait, maybe I know your date or something. Are they here?"

Real smooth. Not that she'd been trying to get herself a date - she merely didn't want to interrupt him if he was waiting for someone. That could end badly.

Interacting with @Piérre Marchonné and open to other interactions!

Duna smiled brightly as soon as the jester noticed her. Pièrre’s bright voice came out of the mask, exclaiming loudly how cute Duna looked. Duna’s shy smile grew as Pierre circled her. Eventually he stopped in front of her.

“Thank you.” Duna signed. “I kind of assumed it was you.” She continued, before remembering she had to write stuff down for him. She mentally kicked herself as she pulled out her notebook and pencil.

‘I already knew it was you.’ She wrote.

Duna looked around as Pierre talked, taking note of the many costumes, ranging from creepy, like Pièrre, to cute, like herself. There sure were a lot of people, more than she’d ever seen in one place, other than the entrance hall. But everyone was sitting in there, here people were moving around and dancing. It was all quite overwhelming, not to mention most of the people ere were taller than Duna’s small frame.

Duna nodded absentmindedly at Pièrre’s words, not even realizing what she had just agreed to. It wasn’t u up Pièrre suddenly grabbed her and and pulled her along through the crowd that Pièrre’s words finally cought up to Duna. They were going to go meet some people.

Duna was always up to making new friends!

RPING AS Maggie Parker - text color #900000

interacting with @Dale Kurt
-
mentions @Koko Riddle, @Lark Flaer, @Elzabeth Gillan, @Grayson Ackley

"the masquerade ball"
-
in which maggie parker goes on a date with grayson ackley and leaves... well, you'll see.

Maggie wasn't surprised to see that all her friends were becoming increasingly occupied with their dates- she would've been the same if she knew where her date actually was. She scanned the room, looking for the one and only Grayson Ackley, who'd asked her to the ball during dance class.

She remembered, however, how she'd promised Dale a dance, and her search was cut off as she did so. She instead looked for Dale, who she soon spotted among a crowd of familiar faces. Lark was there too, and judging by the blush Maggie was able to spot from a mile off, they'd agreed to go together. As she approached, she saw Lark and Elzabeth leave, probably to get drinks or something, and Dale adopted a lost, uncomfortable expression. He was now left with Koko Riddle, who had set him on fire once, and a stocky Illvermorny student Maggie didn't know.

Deciding to play the role of "heroic savior from awkward situations" she approached the dwindling group, smiling politely at the Illverrmorny student and Koko before looking to Dale.

"You still up for that dance? It'll be quick- I don't want to keep my OTP apart for too long." she laughed, holding a hand out as an offer to Dale.

RPING AS Owen Morrison - text color #B45F06

interacting with @Dale Kurt, @Lark Flaer, @Koko Riddle, @Elzabeth Gillan
-
mentions @Lark Flaer, @Gem Stuart, @Catriona Staverly, @Elzabeth Gillan, @Emma Hill

Owen liked this kid- even if he was a bit quiet. Maybe he was just being polite, but he seemed like a genuinely nice kid. Moments after he introduced himself as Dale, a girl Dale's age showed up. She had blue hair, and a thick accent, making it a little hard to understand what she was saying. He hung back a little as more students appeared, feeling a little awkward. He gazed across the room to his friends, who'd each coupled off into pairs- meaning that it'd probably be even more awkward if Owen went over there, because he'd have to deal with them eye-fucking the entire time.

He seemed to have spaced out, because once he was back in the real world, Dale, Lark, and Elzabeth were nowhere to be found. Okay, now it was really awkward. He glanced at the girl, Koko, he thought- who was the only other one left.

"Hey," he began, "I'm Owen. I'm- er, from Illvermorny."

Did Aurelia not understand that she had not only put herself in danger, but everyone else here too? Did Aurelia not care? Xailah shifted with the crowd, her black and white outfit becoming lost in the waves of people. She clicked her tongue, and shook her head in disappointment. Starting conflict so early too? This was unfortunate. What was even more unfortunate was the fact that some hideous pink creature had come to break it up. Seriously, no one had bothered to tell this poor woman that they looked like a marshmallow Peep that had been abandoned in the Kids Craft section of Michaels. Or a lawn ornament. Or both.

She kept her distance, but her eyes remained glued on them, as she backed further into the room, and the sea of people. And they accuse me of being absolutely mad. She would keep her word. She said she would not stop Aurelia from pursuing the sickly boy. But if the pursuit led out of the party, she would be close on both of their heels. The whole thing was silly really. This all could have been prevented. If Kaegen hadn't crawled out of whatever hole he lived in, and if Aurelia could think of people other than herself; everything probably would have been fine. But no. Nothing can just be fine can it? Xailah turned to her feline companion, the teeth on her Cheshire mask shining maliciously. "Well buddy, what do you think is going to happen?" Her voice lowered to an inaudible whisper. Schrödinger sat there with a disgruntled look plastered upon his moon-shaped face. "Waow." He gave a rusty meow, in response to her question. He didn't know what was happening entirely, but he was smart, and he knew when someone was talking to him. Ask a question, he responds, just like the humans do. That is what the humans do isn't it? Good guess friend. Good guess.

Interacting with: @Jake Morris
Mentions: @Jake Morris

She didn't have great experiences with Hogwarts dances. There really was no reason that she should attend.

Still, she wanted to see her younger sister participate in her first masquerade ball, mainly because she wanted to ensure that nothing bad would happen to her. Mari knew the horrors that were any social event at Hogwarts, and though she had many enemies at the moment, her loyalty would never waver when it came to her family.

Mari hadn't really planned to dress up, for she wasn't going for the sake of the dance; she was going for the sake of parenting her younger sister. She emerged from the Hufflepuff common room, wearing the blood-stained robes she still hadn't washed from last year, cardboard prefect's badge affixed to her chest. It was as she was about to step into the great unknown, beyond the Hufflepuff common room, that a flicker of orange caught her eye. Was that Jake, the boy she had helped not so long ago, the boy that she strove to win, in order to make him do her dirty work (though she was the dirty one)? Was he dressed as...a pumpkin? Mari had chosen not to go to theme, but this small child truly was...an idiot.

But now, Mari wondered if she could capitalize on this idiocy in order to truly win him over. She hadn't been successful, yet, but with the recent breakup of her other lover, and the fact that she had yet to see Pressy again, she was a bit desperate to acquire another minion to do her bidding. And luckily....luckily she had an old pumpkin outfit stored right in her trunk, from her childhood. How...convenient.

So she changed. She was now a pumpkin herself, designed to match the boy she wanted to win. And now, the masquerade ball had a deeper purpose, a deeper meaning than just monitoring her little sister like she was a chaperone at a Catholic middle school dance, demanding that the children "save room for Jesus."

But this was not a Catholic middle school dance, for no self-respecting religious school would allow that to be the music for a sweaty gym filled with prepubescent teens who lacked deodorant. The music did not distract her, however as she had found her target: Jake.

She salaciously sent a wink his way, licking her lips as seductively as a 12-year-old dressed in a pumpkin costume could while she did so. If she could meet his eyes, Mari knew that she would finally achieve her mission.

Interacting with @Illowy Magnard

Mentions @Kaegen Deathmote

Chris noticed her gaze fall to the side after saying he didn't go to the ball, as if in disappointment "Count yourself among the lucky." she said to him softly. The event seemed to have a rough patch on her, a mental scar which wouldn't go away. It was probably best to keep the last ball on the low for now, not until another time at least. His icy blue eyes looked at her once again, gazing at the pale stare that looked at him, that's when he realised something. He recognised that gaze... it was one that a person wouldn't forget for a while, something that would stick in your mind. It had to be her, the Slytherin girl who she met at the lake, everything from the accent matched up...

"Clever lad." she chuckled, "You found me out faster then I was able to figure it was you." in reply to his inquiry, a sigh of relief coming from the boy as he smiled gladly to her "Well then, since there's no rushing to class now, perhaps a proper introduction is in order? Especially since I have spent quite some time now trying to figure out who you even are" Chris nodded slowly and straightened himself out, before extending a hand to accept the hand shake "Christopher Madson, second year. It's a pleasure to finally introduce myself" he said with a courteous nod and smile, knowing full well that he should of done at the lake when he had the chance "I'm glad to see you again Illowy, we should get together and play some music sometime " the boy wondered, it was kinda rare to find someone who shared the same music interests as him, especially in a house such as Slythrerin.

Suddenly, something from the other end of the room caught his eye. The thing stuck out like a sore thumb, a thing that looked sinister in its own right. It certainly wasn't pumpkin boy, but a living figure that looked half dead. He wasn't wearing anything but his faded black robes, the fact that he looked on the verge of death provided the reason why he didn't need a costume. The lad appeared to be running from something, but how could a kid his size and stature cause enough trouble for someone to go after him like that "Who's that messy lad in a rush, do you know his name? he said to Illowy with a motion of his head, looking towards the kid who had almost vanished in the dense crowd.

@Jake Morris & @Mari Haynes

Americans had been milling about the school for just two weeks now, but still the whole thing had lost all the novelty it once had. George was downright sick of them. It seemed like everywhere he looked, they were there, ruining his first month in the magical world with their strange clothes and drawling accents. But they did bring something worth more than their wild west style to the table - and that was the Masquerade Ball.

It made him a bit stomach sick to think of it, really. All of the Americans were richer than him. There was no mask that could hide the difference between a pure blood wizard with a budget and a dirty low-down no-maj clad in hand-me-downs. (That's what they call muggles.) He'd just changed his mind and decided to go about two hours before the event. He'd seen his bunk buddy dressing up earlier, apparently under the impression that the dress code was closer to Halloween costume than school formal. George had encouraged the idea, of course - at the least, it meant that he'd no longer be the most embarrassed one at the event. All in all, it was a bold fashion statement as well. There was no downside to sending him off dressed that way.

But that still left George without an outfit of his own. He sought to remedy the problem without a moment of thought. No expense was spared in the selection of his ensemble. The thing about that was that he didn't have any money.

He hopped in on one clumsy foot, his high-pulled woolen socks stuffed inside the cheap leather of decades-old leather boots. Swishing among the skirts of the finely dressed young ladies of Ilvermorny was the bold red tartan of George's kilt, swaying just below his knees. It had been his brother's, and his brother had been bigger than him at this age. His mother had bought it new for him. She was Scottish, and had wanted to bring the boys into the culture. The first time she tried to make him wear it, he said that he'd be less embarrassed if she sent him out wearing a burlap sack.

George had stolen his mask from one of the kitchen elves. Frayed threads of burlap blocked his vision, the sack pulled tight over the boy's face. It still smelled like potatoes in here. He carefully pinched and pulled away those loose ends, only to find that two more sprung up with each he removed. But even between all of that, he could still see his friend - the big orange eyesore - out on the floor, and he blindly waded toward him. Despite George not being in costume, he still managed to look absolutely ghastly.

"I'm starting to think I may be making a fool of myself," he muttered, chasing after the pumpkin boy with a brisk step. He made sure to stomp his boots loud so the other boy would hear him and stop, but his whisper went unheeded. Once he pulled back the burlap hanging over his eyes, it became clear why. There was... a second pumpkin? Two unique individuals both decided, of their own accord, to dress as pumpkins. There was a strange flurry of confusion and relief as the fate conspired to ensure he would not be the laughing stock of this party. This wasn't Jake at all! This was some girl!

"Hey, what the heck? You stole Jake's costume!" George craned his neck, his head on a swivel as he hunted for the second gourd that was prancing around the ballroom. He spoke boldly for a man dressed in a kilt and burlap mask. Particularly boldly when the lack of a mouth hole was considered. He looked like leatherface going at a ceilidh. "That's not fair, how are either of you going to impress the Ilvermoney kids?"

interacts with: @Aurelia Notrésvace @Olphie Bercegeay @Piérre Marchonné
Kaegen was crazy. There was no way around it, no way to lessen the truth of that statement. He was mentally off, he had lost no less than half his marbles and the belfry he possessed was absolutely swarming with bats. But oh, what a belfry it was. The half a handful of marbles he still held on to were gleaming, perfect little spheres. Kaegen may not have had sanity, but he had a level of intelligence that had launched him clear of most situations. For example, he was prepared.

Pressure, flammable gas, a breakable container, some shards, clay and a lot of time. The little boy had started out with three explosive teapots. Now, he was down to one. But he was going to make it count. The shrapnel would rip and rend through anyone standing nearby, and then he would flee, he would run towards the door, and then launch himself over the crowd and through the agape doorway with a well angled fleependo. Easy, not a problem. It would hurt but it would work.

He stopped at the dancefloor, and turned to glare at the oncoming prefect. The little red rings around his pupils practically blazing with light. Done, he was done with the nonsense. Done with her, done with all of this. He had slipped his hand into his sleeve earlier with a purpose, after all. He was ready. Throw the pot, cast incendio, and laugh, laugh as the little, pathetic, annoyingly entitled prefect in the mask felt the cold burning grasp of exsanguination. But then things started to turn very, very south.

A giant, pink bird monster who's feet kept slapping the ground was rushing towards them, ordering them to hold on and explain what was happening. Kaegen almost threw the bomb then and there, until he fully grasped her size. That was a professor. It talked like a professor, walked like a professor, had the bizarre clothing choices of a professor. The flying one, the one with the face. The burning light in his eyes faded briefly. Would his bomb kill a professor? Was it strong enough? As the prefect closed in more, yet another face approached, this time from the side. A bizarre jester in a suit. It looked ugly and weird, but not especially different from any other of the horrible costumes at this place.

A party? Who was there to have fun, who would have fun at a place like this? Dhampirs were usually violent, often unpredictable, and always dangerous. But Kaegen's fractured mind rose above and beyond the pitiful paranoid hunger provided by the vampiric blood. No, Kaegen was a monster all unto himself, he was a monster of a human, and a monster of a vampire. The little boy had spilled more blood in the few years he had spent in Hogwarts than most grown men do in a lifetime. He was a creature, and he was cornered.

"Do not pretend that you can walk this path, prefect. There are dangerous things under the rocks you live on, things you should leave in peace. But to deny a stray dog a bone for the sake of pride is the way of dogs and men. I'm sorry you were weak, I am sorry you failed. I am sorry that you fell so soon. I am sorry you feel the need to throw a tantrum for a meaningless apology and I am sorry for hurting you that day."

She was trying to be a hero, trying to get that apology. Maybe he could defuse the situation before the professor came, maybe he could escape before anything else happened. He was so close, so close to winning, so close to leaving. If the bomb went off now, the professor would still be fine, and it would be his own head on a stake. Anger was prominent, the hunger was consuming. But his fear? His paranoia? It set him apart from the rest, his fear was ingrained into his bones, and he was afraid of the professor. If the prefect would accept his admittedly horrendous apology, maybe she would stop chasing him, and the professor would kill or eat her instead of him. His head turned slightly to the jester as he began to back away

"Not for me."

Fun could wait. He was being hunted. He was beginning to panic, or maybe he had been panicking the entire time, he couldn't tell. Shadows beneath his feet were beginning to thicken more noticeably, tendrils along the outer edge were beginning to snake out, to move. His eyes still burned like fire, and the air temperature began to steadily drop. He was sick of this, of her, of the professor coming and of people in general. He had come for food, had been confronted and had things demanded of him. It was going to end in the next five minutes, in blood or peace, he didn't care which.

He could turn and run, but he'd have to force his way through the crowd. The professor would catch up. He was trapped by a wall of people on all sides, a wall of people that would slow him to the point of destruction. The professor had him trapped, and he knew it. He had to de-escalate and find a good excuse. One clawed hand grabbed the joker's tie, tugging the boy's head just a little down, as Kaegen leaned in with eyes that positively shone with tangible light.

"help"

It was a quiet hiss, quiet enough to not be heard by anyone else. Kaegen hated asking for help, he hated having to depend on anyone else, but there was no other option. He couldn't kill a professor, there was no way in hell his bomb would do anything against a monster that big or pink. He had lost, and now had to depend on charisma, a feature he decidedly lacked. But maybe this jester, maybe his very, very last resort would somehow pull through.

A desperate gamble, a despairing clawing at a way out. A hatred burning cold as ice.

@Maggie Parker

Dale looked around him, Lark had gone away to get a drink, and he was left with someone he didn’t know and the person who had set him on fire… not his ideal night. He looked around the ballroom, trying to find an excuse to leave the awkward situation, the ballroom was really packed at this point, if any more people came in it would be way too full, some weird things were going on, now there were 2 people dressed as pumpkins, he also spotted a familiar face… Kaegen the weird guy from the bathrooms, it appeared that someone was… chasing him, whatever it was Dale did not really wanna get involved in it.

"You still up for that dance? It'll be quick- I don't want to keep my OTP apart for too long."

Maggie Parker, Dale yelled out a victory cry in his head, a reason to leave had presented its self. Dale had owled Maggie asking her to teach him to dance if he was gonna dance with Lark he wanted to make sure he didn’t accidentally crush her feet or trip over her. Although he had no idea what she meant by OTP… he assumed it was some sort slang he didn’t understand. Nevertheless, he took Maggies hand and walked her over to the dance floor.

“Thanks for saving me back there, you really looked a true angel at that moment.” Dale said jokingly, “I hope y-you know your gonna have to teach me how to dance...” “Also… uhh, what's an OTP?"