𝓙arden.

That was his name. Jarden. One eye glowing, glasses Jarden. From Tenūsa? He wasn’t from Hogwarts, then. It would make sense as to why Ruth had never noticed him around. She would have, had he attended otherwise. It was hard to miss someone with eyes like his. Ruth couldn’t pinpoint why it was the case. Was it the lighting? It was darker than the Hufflepuff would have preferred, too dark to make out the details.

He seemed more curt than Ruth had assumed he’d be, and looked to have missed her hand reaching for a handshake, which was slightly disappointing. She dropped her hand as soon as his eyes weren't on hers, pretending she never held it up at all. He was straightforward, as though he had come with a purpose, contradicting Ruth’s entire presence in front of him. She felt a twinge of guilt. Perhaps she wasn’t what he had been looking forward to. After all, stumbling in unprepared felt unbearable, knowing (or, really, assuming) that the person before you was hoping for a proper meet-and-greet.

Rambling in her head? Just great. As if chattering aloud wasn’t enough. She had to overthink it, too. Calm down, she chided to herself. The whole situation felt iffy. His mouth was moving. Let’s hop to it then– Ruth glanced towards the gondola. Her eyes raked up the flat-bottomed boat, drifting down to the contents within. What seemed to be a comfortable-looking loveseat was fitted around its sides, the backrest flush against the portside, with a violin that had begun to play a sorrowful tune. Or perhaps it was meant to be slow and meandering, romantic. That was it. That was what was so…so iffy about this ride. It was romantic.

Oh, bloody hell! She shouldn’t be here. The pink potion that glinted across Jarden’s glasses was emitting smoke rings in the shape of hearts that smelled like the pumpkin spice her mother used to make with her, though there was a hint of chocolate, a whiff of that one chocolate frog, the first one she had ever gotten a chance to eat. But wait, there was something else beneath it. The subtle scent of pine and fresh old books — it was a calming smell, and it drew her instinctively closer to the boat and the boy before her. It was an incentive that erased all doubt.

“Sure,” she replied, an easy smile slipping onto her lips as she watched him step into the boat, wobbling slightly before he steadied and turned towards her just as she was about to follow suit. Eyebrows raised in surprise, Ruth slipped her hand into his. It’d be rude to refuse.

His hands were callused, rough against hers. A stark contrast to most of the hands she had held before–Hikari’s, Janosch’s, Pamela and Aurelia's. It intrigued her. Ruth settled down onto the plush cushion, the loveseat sagging slightly under her weight as she glanced around mildly. It was quite beautiful and serene to be drifting along a body of water, surrounded by faint-smelling lily pads that pale in comparison to the hovering fireflies that lit up the place. “Whoa,” she breathed. It was so much prettier on the water. Craning her neck, it took a moment to notice that they were heading straight towards scarlet curtains, the scene beyond ambiguous.

CAT'S GRACE EVASIVE MANEUVERS

| |

𝐒𝐭𝐚: 𝟔 |𝐄𝐯𝐚: 𝟏𝟎 | 𝐒𝐭𝐫: 𝟒 | 𝐖𝐢𝐬: 𝟗 | 𝐀𝐫𝐜: 𝟒 | 𝐀𝐜𝐜: 𝟖

Action: Accepting @Jarden Ardelis's hand and moving into the first room. | Mentioning: @Janosch Dehoff, @Hikari Fujimoto, @Pamela Graham, @Aurelia Valentine

Interacting with: @Valentin DeAngelo Mentioning: N/A Date: 08/11/25

Word Count: 236

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

The amortunnel. Something Dylan hadn't exactly been excited about when he had first heard about it. He was more of a person that enjoyed staying out of drama and romantic stuff in an attempt to protect himself. He was worried that if he ever fell for someone that everything would end up messy. Then he met Valentin. Though he still wasn't sure where they stood, he did like her. She was different than most other girls. She was definitely headstrong, but she had another side to her. A softer side. A side that she rarely showed. Dylan didn't know why, but for some reason he always got butterflies when he was around her. Maybe that's why he had signed up. To make her happy and prove to her that he could be romantic even if he chose not to. It wasn't that Dylan was opposed to romance. No. He greatly enjoyed watching his cousin's relationship grow with Mikey. They were always so sweet to watch though neither of them had admitted their feelings to each other. That was obvious enough. Watching his cousin's relationship grow had only made him stop and think of his own. He had never been in love before, not even now, but he had the feeling that a crush was beginning to form. One that may go somewhere, or maybe go nowhere at all. He would just have to wait and see.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

\

OOC Note: Sorry this is so late! I completely forgot to write as Dyl until now!

Mikey's fingers tightened for an instant on the rim as Avery's answer fell. He turned, not around only sufficiently to glimpse the edge of her profile in the lantern light. The way she swallowed the words, so valiantly, caused something within his chest to hurt, like the boat had hit a wall. "I'm… I'm sorry," he said, barely louder than the thrum of the violin. "That's a lot." He didn't try to say that he knew. He didn't. He just left the words there between them as you might hold something fragile. He continued after a moment more strongly, "If you ever want to tell me about her… or not to tell me. I'll listen either way."

He looked at the ceiling to figure out his own reply. The ceiling's painted swimmers swept past like sluggish stars. "Favorite place outside my hometown?" He rubbed the fold of the card against his thumb, weighing it. "There is this breakwater in New Brighton on the water opposite Liverpool. It's close, but it is elsewhere." His mouth curled, almost to a smile. “If you are there in the evening, you can watch the boats sailing into the Mersey and there is a lighthouse that flashes kind of lazy, like it's exhaling or something. My dad took me there once when things were…not going the way we hoped. We didn't say much. Just threw rocks into the water and measured how many times the light burst before the tide reached our toes." He exhaled a soft laugh. "We lost count."

The gondola glided through the next curtains and the heat lurched warmer to cooler, the world's color shifting with it. Candles bobbed in little glass cups beside the water and pumpkins grinned at them from the beach. Mikey read one that read Truth, then one that read Confess and pretended his ears didn't turn red. He tried to act like he didn’t notice, failed, then grinned at his own failure.

"Alright, that's cheesily bold," he groaned, half to Avery, half to the jack-o-lanterns. He flipped the deck again, as though the cards might offer something less embarrassing than the command from the pumpkins. "Let's see what the ride has to say." He picked another off the top and glared at gilt print. "'My perfect day.'" He rapped the card against his knee, muttering to himself. "I guess… it starts with a sky that didn't rain. A late breakfast with too much jam." He shifted his shoulder against hers, just enough to indicate I'm here as the boat rocked. "Then… flight.". Not to be the fastest, just the part where your stomach drops and the wind feels like it’s shouting your name. After that, I’d want the kind of afternoon where your friends are all hanging out and laughing in ridiculous places, like on the football pitch or playing quidditch” His smile came in properly now. "And at night? Somewhere around the water.”

His eyes moved to hers to check if it came out as meant. The violin swelled into a gentler strand. In the distance, some mechanical owl hooted like a stagehand who's lost the cue. He glanced back at the pumpkins and then Avery. "We can skip with those," he proposed, gesturing toward KISS CHECKPOINT. "Or replace them with something else." He placed the card face down on the miniature tray, then pulled out two more and spread them like he'd been taught by a child with a deck always jammed in his back pocket. "Pick one? Or, uh. I had mine. He dug into his jacket and produced a worn, frayed piece of paper, folded lengthwise in half. He unfolded it, looking embarrassed but resolved. On his chicken scratch script, it read. What do you miss that you didn't expect to miss?

He prodded it in her direction with one finger, lowering and then lifting his eyes. "We can do yours instead if that's rubbish," he said quickly. "I just… sometimes the questions in my head aren't on the cards." The boat moved under another paper lantern branch, oranges and ambers piling up over their hands. A breeze slipped through the tunnel and snatched a candle flame, then another took its place as if it had been waiting all this time to be breathed in. Mikey let go of the silence and spoke, softly taking her hand in his.

"For what it's worth," he said, "I'm glad you signed up." He meant the ride, yes, and this entire, improbable night of willow drapes and horrid pumpkins and good company. And he let it show in not looking away this time. "Your turn," he said, bashfully. "Perfect day, or… the one you miss."

Ripley looked at her quizzically, draped in his shimmering robe, comfortable in this wintry scene. Yet, Summer seemed to be arguing with herself. Why? He had lent her his garment because she was cold as he would have to his sister or a friend. Of course, this was the Amoretunnel and they were on a "blind date," so his gesture could have been perceived as a romantic advance. And who knows? She was friendly and nice-looking and the future was far and wide. At this moment, though, among the fragrant pines, the two young people were barely acquainted and it was a simple as that.

"Don't worry," Ripley said with some assurance, "it's just a robe, and the cold never bothered me anyway."

With that, he let it go, moving on to the next topic as the boat began to push gingerly forward, taking them lazily past the frozen castle with two tiny figures standing hand in hand in one of the little balconies. Their adventure was drawing to a close and yet, Ripley felt like they had only just begun to actually connect. He wished they could go around again, and maybe again after that. These gondolas were in reality a nice semi-private place to get to know someone, despite the annoying whine of the miniature fiddle.

"That's a great answer!" Ripley agreed, "Hot cocoa is so cozy. Especially with some heavy cream or marshmallows. But what would be number one for me..." He paused for a second to mull it over, "...I think the feeling of getting a hug while wearing one of those thick wool sweaters. It's warm and comforting! One of my favorite things about winter!"

As he was finishing his answer, the boat thunked against the wooden dock that ended the ride. How can something feel so long and short at the same time, Ripley thought as he helped Summer out of his robe. Draping it over his forearm, he got himself out of the vessel and held his hand out for Summer. She took it and stepped out of the boat onto the red carpet. In front of them was a wedding chapel, a huge EXIT sign, and two live peacocks! They made their way towards the gaudy spectacle. Before reaching the exit, Ripley paused and turned to Summer.

Looking around at the giant heart-shaped frame and everything else, he said "Holy moly, this is a lot. But I guess the whole thing was supposed to be a bit extra. Still, I had a really nice time getting to know you a little. Will you come visit Hogwarts some time? It'd be lovely to have a proper conversation without a tiny violin buzzing all around." He laughed, giving Summer an earnest look.


OOC Note: Pardon the slight god-modding, getting Summer out of the boat. I wanted to make it easy for your next one to close us out here. This has been fun! Maybe Ripley and Summer will run into each other again?

Interacting with: @Mikey Forville Mentioning: N/A Date: 08/26/25

Word Count: 389

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

Avery nodded her head. Grateful he didn't push her. Didn't say everything was okay. He just said he would listen if she ever wanted to talk about her. Something within Avery's heart fluttered. No one had ever said something like that about her friend before. Avery closed her eyes and tried to imagine what Mikey was explaining. The night sounded peaceful. Perfect. Something that Avery would probably read out of a storybook. Something her dad used to do with her. When Avery was younger, her dad used to take her on camping trips, go fishing, and just be there with her. Until he got busy at work. "That sounds amazing." Avery said as she looked into his eyes. Avery laughed nervously at the confession card. Happy to skip it. She wasn't ready to admit anything to him about her feelings. Not yet, anyway. Avery listened as Mikey explained his perfect day. It sounded peaceful yet again. Something Avery had rarely experienced with her family. If they weren't at a pure blood event, they were usually always busy doing something. Avery didn't know why, but an easy day sounded better than anything. Maybe that was why she was enjoying summer camp so much. "That sounds like a good idea." Avery laughed nervously again as a blush crept up her cheeks at the sight of the sign. She had never kissed anyone before, and she wasn't sure if she was ready for it yet anyway since she was still only twelve. Not even a teenager. Yet. Avery thought for a moment about Mikey's questions. Unsure of which to answer until a memory came upon her. Then she knew exactly which question she was going to answer. "Well, I guess I'll answer your question. I think the day I miss the most was when I was about seven years old my grandfather took Dylan and I to this lake. I can't even remember where it was, but I remember the day. We had gotten up early. Way before the sun had even risen just to see the sunrise over the lake. That sunrise was probably my favorite. The golden light from the sun reflecting off the water made everything seem like it was in a photograph instead of real life." Avery sighed. She would never forget that day. Not now, not ever.

✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

date 26/08/25

word count 1157

outfit ⁺₊ ☀︎ ⁺₊

speech #8C2626

mentions @Livia Machavariani

notes xxx

As she spoke, she would feel Livia's eyes on her, boring into her. Had it been someone else, little specks of discomfort might have crept into her mind, but, having spoken to Livia, Lucille figured it was mere observation. And so, when Livia observed her as she looked around the tunnel, she brushed it off, not giving it a second thought. When she giggled, a small smile played upon Lucille's lips. It seemed Livia's serious exterior was breaking down, little by little. Lucille nodded in agreement when she said it seemed a bit soon for romance, as if to say likewise. Personally, Lucille hardly knew what it felt like to have a crush, let alone romance. The idea seemed... strange. Meeting someone and becoming inexplicably attached to them, all because you found their presence or their appearance or, really, all of them, so intriguing and captivating that you couldn't let them go. Lucille couldn't imagine feeling that way, certainly couldn't understand what 'butterflies in your stomach' meant, but, all in good time, she supposed.

Livia's response to her rambling was more insightful than she expected. Lucille didn't respond, nodding as she thought over Livia's words. Cordiality? Or just normal human behavior? Lucille couldn't imagine being rude for no reason at all; in fact, she could scarcely imagine being rude for a reason. Lucille tended to be more avoidant, if anything, when it came to conflict.

When she handed Livia the petals, the girl's enthusiastic response, although lined with humor, caused Lucille to break into a wide grin. She observed Livia closely, her gaze softer than Livia's had been only a little while ago, as if she was looking past her instead of at her. She wasn't sure, but she wondered if Livia's skin had turned a bit pink. Or was that her imagination? Or perhaps the light? Either way, Livia's laugh seemed to fill the space, and a bubble of happiness welled up inside Lucille, excited at bringing about this reaction. Of course, Livia's serious demeanor took over quite swiftly, but Lucille counted this as a win. Livia's eyes scanned the walls, and Lucille's eyes scanned her, watching her eyes widen as she marveled at their surroundings.

The weeping willows passed, and Lucille felt a shift in the air. Warmer now and, she inhaled, yes, the smell of saltwater. Summer, undoubtedly. Lucille turned to look in front of them again, her movements more hesitant than before. She disliked beaches, and she knew the scent of saltwater well, purely because of her distaste for the sea, and even this much more pleasant, inviting version of it elicited the same reaction. She glanced at Livia, who was eagerly looking ahead, clearly more interested in the summery scenery to come than Lucille was. Lucille's gaze dropped to the space between them, where a white petal nestled on the seat. Livia had picked it off her face earlier, and Lucille had watched it fall, identifying it among the scattering of petals that had fallen from the ceiling. She picked it up, turning it over, observing it as if it held a secret.

Suddenly, Livia's excited exclaiming drew her attention. She closed her fist around the petal, nestling it securely in her hand, and looked up, more at Livia than her surroundings. Livia's attention was drawn first by something in the water. Peering over her shoulder, Lucille could see jellyfish moving lazily in the water. Before she could take them in fully, Livia was gesturing to the sky, her excitement evident. Lucille looked up, following her hand, and saw... light creatures? It took a second for her to identify them as Patroni; Livia showed no such hesitation. The quick identification made Lucille assume that Livia was wizard born, or at least grew up surrounded by wizard culture, having a better grasp on these things than Lucille did. It seemed Livia would take on the enthusiastic role in this section of the ride. "It certainly seems so," she agreed, an amused tone in her voice, full of warmth.

The girl's joy was contagious, and Lucille found herself more intrigued by the scenery around them. The water seemed to shine, with the lights from the Patroni creatures reflected in it, accompanied by the bioluminescence of the jellyfish. It almost felt like the boat was floating upon the Aurora Borealis. Even the salty scent in the air, formerly filling her with dread, was feeling inviting and comforting. She felt that the sea would now remind her of this moment, when the tunnel brought forth all its beautiful qualities she had overlooked, and Livia's excited words guided her through it all. She closed her eyes, allowing the scent to fill her nostrils, more pleasant now than she had initially thought, and listening to the calls of gulls, and other noises that just seemed to belong in the sea, but Lucille would never be able to identify them.

Livia began to speak, her voice soft, reminiscent of the way Lucille had been rambling earlier. Lucille opened her eyes, resting her hand on the side of the gondola and turning towards Livia, her other hand opening and beginning to toy with the soft petal from before, an idle fidget. The lights from the Patroni above cast everchanging patterns upon Livia's face, giving her an ethereal glow, and accentuating her sharp features. Lucille listened to her words, intently watching the shifting of the lights. As she spoke, an image began to materialize in Lucille's mind, of peaceful treks through the mountains, the sun shining pleasantly, being seated in the grass and enjoying the calls of birds.

Her question caught Lucille off guard, even though it was a perfectly normal thing to say. She simply hadn't expected a direct question to accompany Livia's words. And, when she opened her mouth, words came out, but they didn't necessarily answer the question. "You look so magical in this light. Beautiful, I would say." It was simply a statement, not accompanied by any embarrassment or clear reaction; she had simply said what was on her mind. Her gaze did not shift, as she gathered her thoughts, and then continued.

"I've been to the beach enough to know I dislike it. It's not really... like this, exactly," Lucille said, facing forward and gesturing to their surroundings. "The saltwater stings your eyes, the sand gets everywhere, but I suppose it is pretty to look at from a distance. I prefer your description of summer," she said, her voice softening as she recalled everything Livia had said. "I love mountains, and forests, and nature as long as there's no sand. I take it the beach is heaven for you?" She looked back at Livia expectantly. Ordinarily, Lucille would have launched into a longer talk of how she disliked it, but, with the way Livia spoke, Lucille was beginning to see the appeal of summer, and she certainly didn't want to insult something Livia seemed to like.

Mikey held the quiet for a bit after she'd spoken, not out of not knowing what to say, but so he could give the memory the room to stretch. He gazed at her, his features relaxing as her words regarding her grandfather created a picture he could almost see on the rippling water. A sunrise, a lake, the color of gold that stayed with you years afterward. He breathed gently, the candlelit pumpkins that surrounded them throwing their shadows on the curve of her face.

"That sounds. lovely," he breathed at last, his voice was as if her words were something he should not have heard. His hand moved against hers but he did not let go. "The way you talked about it, I can almost see it in my head."

The gondola drifted on, and with a subtle change of course, the world outside them changed. The fourth and last room opened onto a dazzling winter nightscape. Synthetic pine trees along the banks, their needles white with covering. Moonlight dripped under mystic branches above, snowing gently, a perpetual curtain from illusory sky above. That shock of cold air clung to Mikey's skin, sufficient for him to lean forward another fraction more, their shoulders touching as though the ride itself was urging them not to sit apart.

Silver and gold ornaments glinted amidst the black trees, catching pale moonlight in tiny sparks. Elsewhere the festive craziness of pumpkins, the firework loveliness of lanterns, but here it was difficult to see anything to draw one's gaze. The room itself was designed to muffle all other sound into nothingness, so that only the sound was of water on the gondola and the far off muffled crunch of ghostly snow could be heard.

“I think this part’s my favorite,” Mikey admitted quietly, eyes lifting to the snow before finding hers again. “It feels like it’s telling us to… hold on to this moment. The whole thing.” He laughed softly, breath fogging in the cold. “Guess they figured we’d need a moment to remember what an ‘unforgettable ride’ we’ve been on.” He was talking about the Amortunnel but realized there was a deeper meaning to his words. He and Avery had been through so much in such a short time. The spring ball, the wedding attack, Summer camp, and finding her gasping for air that one morning on the school grounds. He felt connected to her in a way that he couldn’t understand. At least not yet.

Valentin DeAngelo wrote: 7 Jul 2025, 18:17

Speach: English, Spanish
thougths

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

”Ah.. The Amortunnel.” Val muttered to herself. When she came to Hogwarts, she knew she wouldn’t make any friends, let alone start having a crush on someone she had only encountered a few times. Until she met Dylan, she didn’t know why, but every time she is around him, she feels mushy, and I act all soft around him. She didn’t know why, but every time she's near him, I feel like I might throw up. She never thought she’d feel this way, considering every time her parents kissed or acted lovey-dovey, she'd internally cringe. She obviously never said it out loud, respecting her parents' choices in their relationship, like who was she to judge? They are married after all. Despite everything said, Val was happy she met Dylan. He made her feel emotions she hadn't felt for anyone else. Hell, she only felt those emotions towards her parents and grandparents. She really hoped this was gonna be the start of something new between them. Either blossoming like a rose or withering...

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

________________________

@Dylan Astor
________________________
213 words