Secret Blossom Ball Event Finished

(Open for all rps good or bad.)
Character Outfit:

Percival rolled his eyes at Hanako's cheeky smile, and did his best to ignore his goading dormmate. He usually didn't have this much trouble ignoring people's attempts to get on his nerves. Though Hanako seemed to have a special knack at it.

Even despite Percival's snappy attitude, the boy was still glad that he had found Hanako. The presence of his friend would make the ball a little less awkward. The boy wasn't sure if he would have even come if the other had neglected on convincing him.

The boys looked back towards the girl who still stood in front of the pair. He couldn't say that he knew the girl seeing how she did not look the least bit familiar. If he had to guess, the girl was most likely not a Slytherin seeing how she was quick to apologize.

Percival snapped his gaze back towards Hanako as the other brushed off his shoulders. He really did not know what exactly drove Hanako to act this way. Though he guessed it was probably just at the expense of this girl, and his as well.

"We aren't dating. He's just joking around." he said with a slightly exasperated tone of voice.

The boy listened to the girl as she tried to take all the blame. "Really don't worry about it. We both could have been more careful." he said with a small chuckle. He hoped that him laughing a little would lighten the mood.

"Ah no I'm not-." he started to say before he was cut off by the girl reaching into her handbag. Percival's eyes widened as the girl offered her handkerchief. Percival could not help but feel a multitude of emotions. The boy took the handkerchief for a second looking down at it. He found the situation awkward, funny, and even a little bit sweet. Though the emotion that ended up with was a mixture of all three.

Percival bit his lip as a small laugh bubbled up in his throat, and it ended up coming out as a small chortle. The boy honestly could not help his small laughter and he hoped the other wouldn't think he was being rude. Though it was hilarious how she thought that she had caused some major life-threatening injury from a bump. In reality, it probably should have been him asking if she was alright.

The boy shook his head slightly before holding the handkerchief back to the girl. "Really I promise I'm fine." he stated with an awkward smile. "Besides it looks like a pretty nice handkerchief I wouldn't want to ruin it." he chuckled. "I like your dress by the way. My name's Percival. I never caught yours?" he said with a grin.

Percival looked towards Hanako as the boy interrupted the conversation. He had almost forgotten that his dormmate had been standing there. Though before he could even speak he watched as a book hit the backside of Hanako's head.

His eyes widened as he turned to a brown-haired girl who had come up behind them. From what she said it seemed like Hanako and she knew one another. Percival nodded at Althea before holding out his hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you?" he said in a confused tone. Percival did not know many people who entered a conversation by hitting someone with a book.

Interacting with: @Hanako Tone @Ginevra Tsuchiya @Althea Valeden

Interacting with @Elsian Cox

Logan rolled her eyes a little as she glanced at the dancers, nervously tugging at her hands. "Didn't really have that much of an option whenever it came to being my friend. I kind of just brought you into it forcefully" she muttered as she glanced back over at Elsian again.

She thought about the Summer Solstice ball that her father had every year to celebrate her birthday and the beginning of summer. That was really the only time that she had ever met anyone around her own age due to having a tutor. The only other times were when she was at competitions and visiting other Pureblood families.

"I guess I just don't have any confidence when it comes to talking to people."

It was true, she couldn't talk to people that well and the fact that she had even talked to Elsian in the first place was a surprise to her. She knew that only talking about herself probably bothered Elsian, but at this point she had no idea what to talk about. She didn't want anyone pitying her, but it seemed that was the only thing she caused.

"I guess just interacting with people my own age is new and I haven't adjusted to it yet," she continued to mutter to herself as her hair fell into her face as she rested her hand on chin. "If I actually tried than I would probably be able to make more friends, but I just don't even try."

At this point Logan was lost in her thoughts as she stared at the candles floating above them. She wasn't an awful person and once she got to know someone she would talk to them more often, she just wasn't trying to talk to anyone. Spending most of her time reading and studying didn't do anything to help her case at all either.

A flash of the camera prompted an ill-tempered glare in the direction of the photographer. It only assisted in affirming the general tone his presence provided. It was not the first time he has seen this girl, their previous interaction being at the Owlery with a cagey blonde. Thomas failed to understand the intentions of the snapper. Sure, one could presume an assigned role from the group that organized this evening, but a bemusing notion. Providing visual evidence of the secret ball seemed like a contradiction. Despite his curiosity to discuss what she plans to do with these photos, Thomas opted to place it on the backburner…there were bigger fish to fry.

Thomas was relatively emotionless to the collective animosity the pair received him with. Whether the undeserved barbs towards the short fellow, or the lingering hostility that was effortlessly rekindled with Marion from their initial introduction. After implying he would toss the girl out the window, how could a different result be expected? Alas, any predetermined plan the boy arrived with this evening was quickly discarded at the first drop of the water of life. The initial calculating intentions quickly replaced with a series of rash decisions. Despite the liquid courage leading to a bolder approach, the goal in mind was not lost on the boy. He would take what he wanted by force if he must.

It was known to some the boy had a thing for the liquids(lake), but this splash of juice was far from pleasurable. If it is any consolation, pumpkin was good for the skin. Despite never laying a finger on Marion, his unsettling demeanor and diction led to a slap (last encounter), a drink to the face, and an…intended shove. Marion was accurate with her beverage, the pumpkin juice left dripping down his chin to his neck, dampening his collar. The only surprising development was the first substance to stain his clothes this evening was juice, and not blood.

The shove to follow mostly ineffective, the teletubby-esque strength of the girl led to one staggered step backwards. Thomas' lips parted in disdain, slowly dramatic hands rising to rub the remnants of juice from his eyes. Despite his want to retort, he continued to suppress his anger in effort continue playing this little game.

"F-find something else to bother!"

“So that’s a no then..?” Thomas attempted to remain stoic, utilizing whatever skills remained from those elementary school acting classes. A great outlet for an angry little boy, they would say. From his peripherals, another individual approached. It was the boy seen with Marion earlier this evening, duffel bag in hand with a somber expression. Likely due to the absence of the girl that accompanied him earlier this evening (Wren). A unique opportunity arrived, as Thomas opted to continue his rash string of decisions.

"Dude, leave Mary alone,"

Spirited opposition. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought. “I only asked for a dance…” He countered, implying the reaction to his actions was not justified. Thomas glanced over his shoulder to see the silent assassin, true to his name. He had almost forgotten the boy was present, the others didn’t seem to notice him either. Thomas gripped Selim’s forearm tightly, if the boys made eye contact Thomas narrowed his eyes in a curious glare. Play along. “You see…” He turned back to Victor. “My date…disappeared, I guess. Selim here, was helping me find…him.” Embarrassed blue eyes found the pitch before reconnecting with Victor. “Guess I’m not the only one.” He motioned to Victor, relating with his absent date. Thomas lit up as if he had a lightbulb moment. “Would you be interested in a dance?”

Fortunately for Thomas, he was given just enough time for this offer before the girl seen previously with Victor returned to the scene. From afar, the situation may have given one the impression he was the victim. A role he would willingly continue to play. Her question only assisted the development of this role to the desired party: Victor. Thomas offered no more than a humble nod towards the girl, before refocusing attention on Victor. “Your bag looks heavy; I could carry it… if you’d like.” With a half smile, Thomas offered an opened palm to Victor.

Interactions: @Marion Davenport @Victor Moore @Selim Faust @Wren Caster

Mentions: @Arlo Reynolds @Santario Martin

Interacts with: Opelia Seilun
Mentions: Marion Davenport, Thomas LeStrange, Victor Moore

Suspicions. Unconfirmed whispers of paranoia. Unsubstantiated theories. "You worry too much," Vladimir announced as she admired the gift from the box but did not touch. This contrasted with the expected human response. "If I was to give you something devious, it would have been the box. Nobody suspects the package," he lightly chuckled. Yes, it was a tease because he saw what she was doing. "Try it on," he urged. No he dared.

He knew she probably wouldn't, the gift had another intention entirely. The purpose was not to curse the girl, nor was it to track her. A gift from him, had he been the sort to give her some corrupted artifact, he would not be as obvious as to gift her with it on a dancefloor full of witnesses. He could feel the eyes on him and he did not mind one bit. What he wanted to know, she already told him. She was watching him too. What he felt now was not paranoia, it was a legitimate premonition. Paranoia represented that nagging sense that everyone experiences -- that feeling, perhaps knowlege people are not there for you. That they are watching you. That they were talking about you behind closed doors. That they were plotting against you.

Most girls accept gifts with earnest excitement and demonstrate their appreciation by using the gift, be it perfume or jewelry immediately. Even if it was a bloom that they could only sniff. She verbally acknowledged the existence of the bauble but nothing more.

Very well then, not a date.

As she had accepted his invitation to dance but not his gift, he would guide her onto the dance floor. He knew how to play the role of a pure-blood gentleman, he had spent his life cultivating his facade as one would expect. He was tall for a fifteen year old boy. Not quite as tall as some part-giants or a few string beans that had graced this school, but he was an inch shy of six feet. He was almost a head taller than his date. It would be hard for her to study his features from down there.

"If you do not know, I will lead," he announced with the same confidence he greeted her with. Socialization was hardly a concern for him. This was almost mechanical to him, the niceties of social expectations. It made multitasking easy.

He would see Marion and some deviant, possible pervert. Victor was left alone, his girlfriend had wandered off but she would be back he was certain. Romeo looked like he was trying too hard, but little did he know the adage about flies and honey was all wrong.

If she did not pull away, they would start dancing. He had drawn them into the crowd, away from a few eyes he could feel on him. "How many of your friends are watching us?" He asked. Could he dance? Not particularly, but the thing with dancing was - if it was done confidently, it was considered 'good.' Of course with dance moves like 'flossing', the concept of 'good' was relative. In comparison to modern dance crazes, he was fantastic.

He did not expect a verbal answer for his last question, her silence would prove enough even bvut so wouldn't her denial or admission. After all, he was not a hot-headed Gryffindor nor was he a loyal badger or a cunning snake, he was analytical even if on first glance he did not look like the type of boy that would have a brilliant mind. He offered to twirl her. "Where are you from?" Using this as an opportunity to know her - a passing curiosity, an idle interest, a diversion or something else entirely. "I am from Bargoed in Wales," he offered if he was asked or not.

Of course the diversionary conversation would not last long. He needed to unsettle her further. "Do you know why I asked you to the dance?"

Crystal heard about the ball through some girls in the Hufflepuff dorm, they were talking about the whole thing and asked her if she would go, and she decided it would be fun to see what it was all about. As she wasn't a girl into dresses and skirts as they severely limit her mobility, she showed up in a suit. Not the normal men's suit, but a suit jacket, dress pants, and a flowey blue undershirt that matched with her eyes. She stood taller than usual with her heeled boots, more of a wedge than a heel but it still gave her extra height. She looked around at wonder at all the decorations, the magic of the whole thing more than what she was used to. Her eyes were drawn towards the plants hanging from the hoops, she was tempted to figure out a way to get up there and get a closer look but decided she wanted to keep her head on for tonight. She looked around, and her stomach growled. Embarrassed, she realized she hasn't eaten in a while totally forgetting to grab dinner while rummaging through her stuff trying to find formal wear. She decided it would be a good idea to grab some food before her stomach collapses into a black hole.
Crystal headed over to the food tables, brushing past the chattering students to get something to eat. When she finally got to the tables, she was suddenly overwhelmed by all the options. There were so many drinks, what was what? how was she supposed to know the difference between them all! She let out an exasperated sigh and decided to pick up what she hoped was a punch. It smelled like one, so fingers crossed it was. She then looked at the lack of a proper dinner, and decided to put together a plate of a mix of things to satiate the pit in her stomach. She grabbed a tiny burger, a couple of carrots, and a cupcake for dessert. Hopefully it would be enough. She managed to balance the cup on the end of her plate and carefully walked over to a nearby empty table. Sitting down and digging in to her impromptu meal.

The Slytherin's smile, the mask she had controlled well until now, got a crack when he told her that she was worrying too much, if he wanted to harm her, he'd done it with the box, not the bracelet. Opeila could only just stop herself from tossing the box away, she felt incredibly stupid, like she just fell for the oldest trick in the book. If there was something wrong with it, it was probably too late now. Play along.

His urging her to put it on raised her suspicions again. Was that a... daring tone, she heard? Opeila had thought of an excuse already. "It doesn't really go with the one I am wearing. This one is a family heirloom, I promised my grandmother that I would wear it. I like this one a lot though, I will definitely wear it sometime." She didn't react to him telling her not to worry that much.

It wasn't surprising that he had figured, their plan was quite transparent if she thought about it. Of course he would know that she was prepared as well. Opeila now only waited for him to mention it.

Instead he guided her to the dancefloor and told her he would lead if she didn't know how to dance. Opeila smiled. "No need, thank you, I know how to." Maybe not too good, but Lady Margary had always found it important that Opeila knew how to dance. So she had practiced a lot and Opeila now was okay at it, she would barely step on her partners feet. Theoretically. If she concentrated. What she wouldn't, since she was still trying to figure out her partner's motives.

Vladimir asked her, how many of her friends were watching. There it was, the topic she had only waited for. "I don't know. Enough." The first year made sure that she didn't say a lot. She didn't want to give him additional information to the one she was reluctantly giving him already.

Sadly, she really had no idea, how many were watching. Flash for sure and she had seen Bridget earlier. So those two probably. She had no idea where Jack went though... That was slightly concerning.

Opeila would let the Ravenclaw twirl her. The Slytherin had not really noticed until now, how much taller the boy was. This made it hard to keep an eye on his face.
He asked her where she came from and then told her where he came from. This was an information she wouldn't give him. "So we're doing smalltalk now?", she asked instead, still the friendly expression on her face, but he would be able to notice her tenseness. Her grip was a little too tight, her hands cold, her movements a little stiffer than they would have normally been.

He asked her if she knew why he asked for the dance. Opeila shook her head. "Please, do tell."

Mentioning @Thomas Lestrange @Jack Burnett @Bridget Collins @Flash Holmwood
Interacting with @Vladimir Athanatos

Selim largely ignored what his partner was doing, eyes trained on the target glancing away every so once in a while to try and make it not as obvious... sadly, it probably didn't work that well, 'Vladimir' just seemed to draw his eye. It was as if he were prey watching a predator draw near without being able to run, or hide.

His focus stayed on the target, entranced, something nagging at his mind, saying that if he looked away for even a moment, he'd be in danger.

Selim wasn't sure whether or not it was just his building paranoia making his mind perceive something as more of a threat than it actually was, if it was just his tired mind, warping his perception, or if it was something that he should actually be this concerned about.

He just knew he couldn't let them out of his sight.

He watched as Vladimir seemed to move shifting with his housemate, mouth moving with words he couldn't hear. He was too far away for Selim to read his lips, even as he made more movements that seemed vaguely like dancing (It was hard to tell with the crowd milling about around them).

He faintly registered a ruckus coming from his companion and the girl he was speaking to, but didn't look away from the tall boy in leather.

He was violently snapped out of his prey-like trance when someone grabbed his arm. Flinching violently, Selim swiveled around, hand darting out of his sleeve as he almost went for his dagger, until he caught sight of who it was. His pounding heartbeat slowed, and he slid out of his incomplete fighting stance, back to his normal, regal one.

It was simply Lestrange... not an attacker.

He didn't hear the conversation beforehand, so, without context, he couldn't really understand what his companion's narrowed eyes were trying to portray... also was he covered in... pumpkin juice?

He decided not to question it.

They both turned back around, and Selim grew stiff, uneasy, you never turn your back on a possible threat, but here his partner was, making him do just that. A shiver ran up and down his spine, but he forced himself to focus on the situation at hand, the distraction from the mission Lestrange insisted on focusing on instead.

He scanned the people present, jerking a bit when he heard a distant banging sound muffled by the music and conversations around him... he tensed further, eyes darting left and right, looking for threats.

He was knocked out of his intent focus once more, by Lestrange, who spoke.

“You see… my date…disappeared, I guess. Selim here, was helping me find…him.” His companion cast his attention to another boy, dressed excessively in white, which made Selim want to cringe. That boy was basically a walking target for attackers.... he'd probably die first.

He went along easily with the story... by being completely stoic, expressing no emotion whatsoever, as per usual these days, not speaking, or even nodding in affirmation. No, he simply blinked deliberately, as if those around him were supposed to take that as confirmation.

“Guess I’m not the only one.” Lestrange motioned to the cannon fodder, “Would you be interested in a dance?” His companion then offered to carry cannon fodder's bags, and a flash of impatience burst through him

He cast a look at Lestrange, probably looking nearly as emotionless as before to everyone else, except, perhaps, his partner. His yellow eyes were narrowed ever so slightly, sharper, and perhaps a hint of disapproval glinted in them. The look basically said 'You're wasting time, we need to get moving'.

Context probably helped clarify the message, seeing as how Selim was just watching Vladimir with an intensity akin to a deer watching a dangerous predator. He was impatient, and he wanted to get out of this deathtrap as soon as possible.

Tension was lining his frame under his traditional robes, and his fingers were twitching at his side, as if trying to grab a weapon that was supposed to be there.

They had a mission to get to, there was no time for Lestrange to play with these students.

|- Mentions; @Thomas Lestrange, @Opeila Seilun, @Victor Moore, @Marion Davenport, @Vladimir Athanatos -|

Outfit:

Reducio

The mood between Vladimir and Opeila did not seem exactly cheerful. Opeila was plastered with an empty smile, while Vladimir could best be described as bemused. The two began to dance, both of them seeming to fall in line without much effort needed. Well, it seemed he was trained to dance. Flash felt the grueling weight of all the things he didn’t know.

That was the reason this was such a bad decision, why he had hated it from the start. They didn’t have even a fraction of the information they needed to make informed decisions. Partly that was what they were doing, just trying to know more. They could have laid a trap for him, ambushed him, or abducted him, but instead they just wanted answers. They just wanted to be led out of the dark.

Perhaps Dan had the right idea, maybe they should have ignored all the warning signs and just spent time with the people they love. Flash looked up long enough to see Thomas’ face get splashed by Marion’s drink and had to laugh. He returned his eyes to Ruka, who seemed more alert and attentive than he had perhaps ever seen him. No, definitely.

He really couldn’t relate to Ruka at all, the two of them had vastly different personalities. They knew so much about each other’s insecurities and motivations, yet so little actual information. Maybe they had that in common, at least. Neither of them knew how to fit in. Perhaps their gravity was just a matter of continuing to find each other on the outskirts.

”Ruka, I don’t…” Flash started, the two of them continuing to look back at each other from time to time.

Flash wanted to impart something. A compliment, something to show his gratitude, but it stuck in his throat. He didn’t know how to express it. In fact, it was pointless to draw attention to it. This might be his only chance to have fun, before something inevitably happened. Why waste it lamenting about regrets?

Instead, now that Ruka knew the steps, Flash drew him in closer. He could adapt. Flash had started to understand the feeling a bit more when Burnett had embraced him. They both just wanted to feel less alone. He wanted to give Ruka that, if possible. The feelings that he belonged somewhere. He could see it in the way Ruka interacted with people. He was detached from society. Isolated.

”I wonder if you would be interested to know more about me?” Flash’s voice was more unsure than he normally would dare to portray.

He rarely volunteered information about himself, he didn’t want to have to suffer through realizing that no one actually cared. That all anyone wanted him around for was because he made them feel better about themselves. Carried their burden, solved their problem, healed their scars, held them when they cried. Still none of his friends knew even the smallest details about his life. No one besides Burnett.

”I don’t think I actually like people much.” Flash’s expression floated somewhere around ambivalence and amusement. ”At the same time, I love them all. Each life, some kind of story to tell.”

Flash returned a more focused look on Ruka. Looking tranquil despite his panic moments before. He just genuinely wanted to know more.

”What do you think of people? Do you hate them?”

Interacting with: @Ruka Tân

Action:
Feeling hopeless, talking to Ruka

Previous posts: Pre-ball, Entrance, Recon, Asked to dance, Spots Vlad on dance floor, Dancing with Ruka

Temporarily Closed to Interaction

The boy seemed curt and distracted as he responded to her query. He didn't seem to be as excited about the ball as some of the other students rushing around in their giddiness. She found it interesting that anyone could look so grumpy at a party as this boy seemed to be.

Isadora withdrew from the table a bit, sipping on her water as she waited for her still rushing heartbeat to calm down from her dancing earlier. She obediently followed his eyes gaze as he gestured her towards the visage of a girl she hadn't met quite yet.

"Oh...um, no I don't think I've met her yet," She said following the girls movements as she wandered the room in a beautiful dark blue dress. She was quite pretty, with auburn hair and striking blue-grey eyes. She turned to the boy again and raised an eyebrow in question.

"Is she a friend of yours or??" she noticed the irritation on his face as he stared at the girl. "I'm guessing 'or'...do you want to talk about it? Or...I could wander away if you would prefer to be alone with your thoughts. We don't even know each others name so it could be like I was never here!" She tried to joke with a hesitant smile. She even took a step back to show her sincerity at leaving him to his own devices if he wished. He seemed like he had a lot of other things on his mind and Isadora did not want to intrude.

Interactions: Janet Jackson (permission to godmod)

Fred entered the pitch which was decorated beautifully with flowers and golden balls of light. But for him the star of the evening was Janet Jackson. As soon as he set eyes on her his heart started thumping wildly. She was dressed in a short mint green dress and a simple gold star necklace, her hair was styled stunningly with flowers woven into it and her makeup was done to perfection. He had been expecting her to look beautiful but this was something new. Janet always looked pretty but this time she looked pretty and elegant.
“You look beautiful,” he said blushing slightly.
He blushed still more when she hugged him. She took his hand and pulled him off to get some drinks.
“Come on!” She said smiling, “let’s go get some refreshments.”
Fred felt ridiculous now that he had been dreading the blossom ball. This was amazing! He had been simply ecstatic when Janet had said she would go to the ball with him and although that was the main reasons for his happiness the refreshments and decorations were definitely a bonus.
“Do you think we’re going to need those escape brooms,” he said suddenly glancing over at the pile at the entrance, “the previous balls haven’t ended well I’ve heard.”
“I haven’t heard much about previous balls but (and I know this makes me sound crazy) I can’t help feel a bit excited, to see how this one will end.”
Fred knew that Janet was very optimistic (a large part of the reason he liked her so much) and she probably thought everything would end well. But Fred knew that she also wasn’t stupid and if she had heard what he had about the last balls she wouldn’t feel excited. But right now nothing could ruin this night for Fred and he too pushed it from his mind.
“Well neither of us have brooms but I’m sure they will have some spare school brooms we could grab if necessary.”
“Stop worrying!” She said, “let’s just enjoy tonight!”
And as he glanced at the beautiful Gryffindor girl beside him Fred felt certain he would.