Closed Dragon Meets Devil PV Ruby Cazares RP

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

Today was bound to be an interesting day. Margo had asked Ruby to finally meet the boy she had been talking about for the past couple of weeks. It had started off as a casual mention of the Russian that Margo had met, but then as they hung out more and more, conversation had often turned to the subject of him. Soon, Margo had realized that she had a crush on him, and before long, the pair had declared their affections. A few days later, Margo had insisted that Ruby meet her boyfriend, and now here they were.

There had been a small amount of underlying jealousy throughout all of this. She was meant to be Margo’s best friend, one of the most important people to her. After the whole issue with Ruby finding out about her brother, she had struggled more intensely with feeling neglected or pushed to the side in important relationships. She needed her friends to fully value her because she had nothing else. She didn’t want them to be like her parents and decide she wasn’t good enough for them and value others above her. She couldn’t handle Margo of all people doing that, with all her fire and snark and teasing. Their friendship was incredibly important to Ruby, but it seemed this Slava was taking over Margo’s mind.

But she saw how happy he seemed to make Margo and how she smiled whenever she talked about him, and as much as Ruby wished she could make Margo so happy, her desire to see her friend happy ultimately triumphed over her jealousy. So she would give Slava a chance and try to be nice for Margo’s sake. This wouldn’t be like the disaster that had occurred when Ana had forced Ruby and Rafael to meet. Besides, the nature of the relationships were different. Instead of competing for the position of “best friend” against Rafael, Ruby already held that with Margo. Slava wasn’t Margo’s best friend, he was her boyfriend. Therefore, he wasn’t a threat, right…?

They were now on their way to the meeting place that Margo had chosen. She hoped Slava would prove to be good enough for Margo—the other girl deserved the best and only the best. Margo gripped Ruby’s hand and she shot a warning look at her friend before her expression softened slightly. By now, Margo would be very familiar with the fact that Ruby was a little weird about physical affection. She wasn’t used to it and as a result, it felt uncomfortable. She reserved her physical displays of affection for mostly special occasions, not occurring too frequently. But when one of her friends hugged her, she was not overeager to release them.

For now, she would tolerate the handholding. It certainly wasn’t her favorite, but judging by the too strong grip, Margo needed this right now. Her friend started going through some sort of checklist aloud. “Thunderous? Margo, darling, I thought I was the epitome of joy? I am lovely though, glad you got that part.” Ruby smiled playfully at her. A picnic blanket was laid down and Ruby settled into place, straight-backed and poised as always, watching as the other Slytherin scanned the area, presumably looking for her boyfriend.

Margo made a comment about how “relaxing” this was and Ruby raised an eyebrow. “Relaxing. Suuure,” she responded sarcastically as she watched Margo’s leg bounce. “It’s going to be fine. As long as he’s not unbearably irritating and rude—and I’m sure you’d pick better than that—there shouldn’t be an issue. I promise to not destroy him, although I can’t say the same for how the Gobstones match will go…” She smirked, competitive and slightly arrogant as ever.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

==

Writing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Aleksandrovich Preobrazhensky

It was a nice day, and Slava was both very excited and slightly nervous. Max had hyped him up beforehand, so he was feeling mostly confident and capable, but this felt weirdly like meeting the family. It was a big deal, wasn’t it? Meeting your girlfriend’s best friend for the first time? He knew that her name was Ruby, but outside of that he didn’t know too much about her. What would she be like? What if she didn’t appreciate his joking attitude? No, scratch that, he was Slava, he was lovable and totally charming and he could handle anybody. Besides, any best friend of Margo’s would surely have to be able to handle sarcasm and jokes and would most likely be fun-loving and hopefully equally colorful.

So it was with the utmost confidence that he left his tent that day, having put a little extra effort into making sure his appearance was suitable. There was a slight bounce in his step, his characteristic energy showing in the way he moved. But he had extra reason to be upbeat. He was getting to see his girlfriend. Girlfriend. He still couldn’t believe it. He had to be the luckiest guy in the world to have the honor of being Margo White’s boyfriend, that was for sure. There was no one quite like her, and he had never felt so perfectly matched and understood, even with the slight language barrier. Their souls were just made of the same kind of stuff, that was the only way he could think to put it. Partners in crime, the diabolical duo, and now they were dating. It felt too good to be true.

As he made his way to the area Margo had mentioned, he caught sight of a familiar shock of blonde hair and his face lit up. There she was. He smiled fondly, excited to spend more time with her. Next to her was another girl, who he assumed was Ruby. The way she held herself made him slightly wary—the elegance and properness made him wonder if she was one of those rich purebloods, and the tilt to her chin that said she knew she was better than everyone would have intimidated him if he was anybody else. But he had managed to befriend Arjan, after all, so surely this girl would be easier to crack. He hoped she could still be fun despite that polished demeanor.

He approached the picnic blanket and grinned at the pair, plonking himself down next to Margo, leaning briefly against her in affectionate greeting. “Hey Margo! And you must be Ruby. My name is Vyacheslav Aleksandrovich, but call me Slava.” His warm, bright eyes met her cool ones. “Yes, I’m Ruby Cazares. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Slava, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her voice was smooth and neutral, but her tone wasn’t unfriendly. She stretched out a hand, which Slava promptly shook. “Hopefully good things,” he responded cheerfully. “With that out of the way, should we begin the game?” he suggested, taking the initiative to hopefully avoid awkwardness, glancing at the box near Margo. He loved to win, but he didn’t much care whether he won or lost this time. He just had to make a decent impression and not start a fight.

Ruby may have been worried that Slava was taking over Margo’s mind, but that didn’t take into account the utter ease with which this Slytherin got distracted. ”Did you see the size of that butterfly. It was green, Rubes… Ooh, maybe we’ll see a snake and it’ll be a good omen.”

Was she playing into fickle Slytherin stereotypes to appease her best friend? Yes. There was no stooping too low here. Would it actually work? Doubtful. Unfortunately, a small side of Ruby came with a whopping portion of intelligence. Luckily though, this plateful of should-be-Ravenclaw seemed to enjoy conversing with Margo. Plus, bonus! Ruby had promised, unprompted, not to destroy her first and favourite boyfriend!

Of course, Ruby had decided to bring their other best friend to the conversation - sarcasm - and Margo wasn’t about to let her get the upper hand. “Joyful? Relaxed?” Margo clamped her hands to her sides, and straightened her spine towards the sky in a poor impression of Ruby’s poise. The blond looked faintly constipated. If Merlin’s eccentric ghost really was out there, she hoped he would ensure that Slava was not yet close enough to see.

Unfortunately, said boyfriend planted himself beside her not ten seconds later. Margo froze for a second, stared, transfixed, at the settling poof of Slava’s hair, and didn’t bother to quel the unprompted grin that spread across her face. His eyes gave her a hug with their warmth and her fingers started to scuttle across the picnic blanket towards his without permission. The nerve of her hands, honestly.

She was just about to introduce Slava as a bludger-slaying fairy when he saved her the trouble with his own lovely, Russian-tinted introduction. She didn’t even have it in her to be dissappointed at the missed opportunity for humour. “Hey.” She beamed at him, instead.

Her throat gave an imvoluntary cough at the boringness of her welcome. Slightly pink cheeked, she added, “I mean, thank you fellow superior beings, for gathering with me today. I come bearing the gift of…” She started an impromptu drum-roll on the box of gobstones. Jam tarts!” She unleashed a sugary-smelling tray from her bag.

She nudged Slava, an idea forming. “I confess I am surrounded by bilinguals, those of fancy, different culture. Rubes, these may not be of the French patisserie level, sorry! But do feel free to air your expért criticism. And Slava, please do educate us on Russian sweets, I’d like to know more about your culture.”

It was like leaving bait. For Ruby: information and knowledge on what Margo really prayed was an unknown subject. And for Slava, a conversation starter to break the ice about himself. Ego-fuel. Margo hoped she was proving her prowess as a girlfriend.

Slava suggested they start the game and Margo jumped into action. ”Excellent idea!” She started setting up the pieces as rapidly as possible, leg no longer bouncing, head calm enough to start having some real fun.

“Why Rubes, youngling, as our last-born, most innocent member, would you like to have the honour of going first?” Uh oh. The dragon had officially been poked. Margo couldn’t help herself. Ruby’s ice-coloured eyes needed some fire in them. As reverse-psychology-ist as it may have seemed, Margo wanted to tease her friend in order to prove that nothing had changed between them, no matter Margo’s new romantic status. That was just how they were. Margo loved fiercely, but with this particular dark-haired Halffrenchwoman, she rarely said it outright.

Slava’s faint grass-Quidditch-spice smell that Margo was half-certain she imagined was relaxing her last tense muscles. In the presence her two favourite companions, she allowed herself to bask in her love for them (and the taste of some jam-tarts, of course - she really was a sugar fiend).

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

Before Slava had arrived, Margo had commented on a green butterfly, which Ruby’s eyes idly followed as it fluttered away. Her friend had then commented “maybe we’ll see a snake and it’ll be a good omen” and Ruby chuckled, rolling her eyes. “How are snakes and butterflies related? Just through the color green? Hey, Margo, maybe we’ll see some grass too. Besides, what would it be a good omen for? My upcoming victory in the game you brought?” She smirked. It was a bit rude for Ruby to dismiss Margo in that manner, sure, but that was just what the girls’ friendship was like. It had been built on insults, sarcasm, and competition, but it was well-established that they deeply cared about one another underneath all the surface level teasing.

Margo proceeded to attempt a very poor imitation of Ruby’s posture and she raised an eyebrow. “I can’t decide whether you look like a Muggle toy soldier or like you desperately need to pass wind,” she commented condescendingly, but there was a smile in her eyes. Not a moment later, they were joined by a newcomer. Judging by the way Margo paused to stare at him, seeming fascinated, this was Slava. Ice blue eyes lifted to scan him, noting the way that the pair’s hands seemed to find each other. Still, she gave Slava a nod of acknowledgement as he introduced himself, responding with an introduction of her own in turn and offering her hand to shake. His hand was warm and his grip was nicely firm, although he was a little on the enthusiastic side with his shake. She could allow that.

Margo beamed at Slava with a greeting of “Hey”—unusually plain for the unique, energetic firecracker that was her best friend. Had this boy completely shut down her mind? However, if Margo happened to glance at Ruby, she would see a small, knowing smile, because Ruby did enjoy seeing this. Even if she had the occasional spike of jealousy, she loved seeing Margo happy. Her friend deserved good things like this new relationship. After a small pause, Margo retracted her greeting, blushing slightly. “I mean, thank you fellow superior beings, for gathering with me today.” Ruby smiled, a forceful exhale of breath forming a quiet laugh. She enjoyed the way Margo approached conversation so jovially, joking around constantly. It was just fun to be around someone who didn’t take things quite so seriously but could engage in deep, intelligent conversation when needed.

And then Margo declared that she had brought jam tarts and Ruby’s smile widened, paying extra attention. She had a slight sweet tooth, and anything that Margo brought would surely be good. “A worthy offering,” she said, nodding solemnly. “Rubes, these may not be of the French patisserie level, sorry!” Ruby waved a hand dismissively. “No matter. I’m sure they’re great.” While her mother’s side of the family was French and she had often visited France and her family home there, she had mostly grown up in England and, as such, considered herself to be mainly English. She was experienced with French culture and food, but was more used to life in England and wouldn’t criticize a treat that Margo had had the kindness and forethought to bring.

Margo prompted Slava to give information about his culture and Ruby’s eyes flicked to him. She always enjoyed learning things, even if the information was seemingly useless. It was just nice to know things and to grow her pool of knowledge bit by bit. She was curious about what Slava’s response would be, but they were first getting out the game. “Why Rubes, youngling, as our last-born, most innocent member, would you like to have the honour of going first?” Ruby shot a look at Margo, fully glaring at her. Friendship be damned, she would not tolerate being called an innocent youngling, especially not in front of someone she was meeting for the first time. “Rephrase that right now. Try again.” The warning tone would likely be intimidating to anyone else, but Margo would know that Ruby posed no danger to her personally besides being targeted in their game. She flicked a Gobstone, taking a jam tart. She wasn’t really mad, but she didn’t appreciate the (successful) attempt to wind her up. Still, she would not offer Margo the courtesy of asking before taking the jam tart after that comment of hers.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

==

Writing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Aleksandrovich Preobrazhensky

Margo grinned at his arrival, and he smiled equally as widely back, eyes shining with joy and affection. Her fingers brushed against his and he linked their hands together, holding hers and maintaining a smile. He really did enjoy her presence and just wanted to be around her as much as possible. Even now, he would rather put an arm around her to be closer, but he didn’t want to make Ruby feel awkward, especially when they were first meeting, so he settled for subtler hand-holding.

He laughed as Margo addressed them as “fellow superior beings”, pulling out a tray of jam tarts. He looked at them eagerly. “It smells very good. It looks like korzinki, but no… mmmm… белковым кремом… cream?” (He’s talking about the Italian meringue/cream on top of the dessert korzinki/korzinochki.) Slava’s eyes were bright with excitement at the prospect of the dessert and at spending time with Margo. She nudged him and he looked at her as she spoke, explaining that both Ruby and Slava were bilingual and asking him to talk more about his culture. He nodded. “I will explain when we start.”

Once the game was set up—with Margo and Ruby bickering, Slava shooting a worried look at Margo when Ruby’s tone got cold—Slava would revert the topic back to the desserts. “Well, I said about korzinki or korzinochki, it is like this jam tart you have. There is medovik, it is a… слоеный пирог… слоеный… layered honey cake. Other cakes, like Praga, which is chocolate, or Napoleon—also layered—or pavlova, which is creamy, and sharlotka has apples… There is Ptichye Moloko—not a cake—translates as “bird’s milk”, has chocolate and made with milk. Lots of things similar to pancakes too, syrniki and olyadi and blini and others. Zefir… not sure how to explain zefir, but made with egg, sugar, and something else. There are much more, of course, but I do not want to bore.” He grinned. As much as he loved food, it was hard to explain exactly what the desserts were like in a foreign language, in a place where he couldn’t make any of them to show the girls.

Besides, this was making him hungry. Ruby took a jam tart so Slava figured he could too, selecting one and staring deep into the luscious jam with glee. He was reminded of the prank they had pulled a couple of weeks ago with Margo, when they had scooped the jam out of some donuts and replaced it with hot sauce. He took a bite of the jam tart and glanced at Margo fondly. “No poison this time,” he commented jokingly, referring to what they had very dramatically called the hot sauce before. He flicked the Gobstone, feeling content. Apart from Ruby’s sudden hostility towards Margo, she seemed like a decent person so far, too. Hopefully this would go alright.