The Mistletoe Spin Group #9 Summer Camp 2024

Felix Kolbeck (@Winnie Harper)

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	Durmstrang's Fouplay Prince was a social animal by nature. He thrived among the masses, whether raising his fist before a Quidditch audience or mingling at a dance. As soon as he spied the Spin on an itinerary, he made a point to sign up, drawn by an opportunity to flaunt and flirt. Madhup attended in an extravagant ensemble of silk and gold beneath an unbuttoned sherwani. Its design was upscale, though the cut was casual, resulting in the unorthodox style of regal bohemian. Tall brown boots and flashing gold jewelry tied the look together, complete with windswept hair and the sparse stubble he was immensely proud of these days. As insane as Hogwarts might be, the notorious English school did know how to throw a party. Everything about the camp was awe-inspiring, from the wintry theme to the enchanted tents, which he'd spent several days exploring. He had recently made a show of climbing the Ice Age mountain with a set of Arctic Expedition tools. Tonight, he tackled the radiant dancefloor. As he approached, Mad paused to trace the post of calligraphed names with a fingertip. Evidently he was satisfied by the lineup. With a catlike expression, he slinked to the sidelines, swept into a mock bow at the first dancing partner he faced (feel free to assume), and let himself go to the dancing spell's control. Faces flashed by, some he knew, others he didn't but impulsively wanted to. When the song suddenly stopped and the dance released them, he staggered, gripping his partner- Felix- and snickering lightheartedly. Once he found his own footing, Mad passed off the stumble by pretending to dust off the fellow flyer's shoulder. A quick upwards glance and his grin grew devilish. "Look, Felix. The plant means we kiss, but only if you want to." He smirked and spoke with a playfulness that made it impossible to tell whether he was teasing or genuine. "Number Fifteen and Number Nine...." He pointed between them, wagged his eyebrows horribly, and had the audacity to ask "Should we twenty-four?" Mad's sneer grew as though that was the funniest thing he'd ever said in his life.
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𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙵𝙸𝚃: Reducio

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▪ 𝙴𝙽𝙲𝚈 ▪ ▪ FELIX ▪ KOLBECK ▪ ▪ DURMSTRANG iNPC ▪ SIXTH YEAR ▪

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𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂: Reducio @Evelynn Decipio as Greta @Astrea Soleil Neptune as Johannes @Pericles Dralt as Madhup @Opeila Winters as Theo

Felix had reluctantly agreed to wear dress robes to the next formal function, but Lin had to bite her tongue when her son picked out a pair of black ones. Little did his mother know that Felix had since spent time modifying the ensemble, adding punk elements like chains, unnecessary belts, and metal studs. For tonight’s ball, he had paired the set with his leather knee-high boots, leather fingerless gloves, and a black cravat.

Before the event, the Swede had watched Greta as she primped herself and silently decided he would spend the night ensuring that any men with ill intentions stayed away from her. Perhaps bystanders would assume it was the regency theme, but in actuality, he was feeling extra protective of her since the entire slug fiasco.

When they stepped out of the tent alongside Hanya, the first thing Felix noticed was the vast amount of mistletoe and candles bobbing in the air above. Then he realized they were meant to separate as there were several different dance floors. Regardless of where he was assigned, he didn’t give a fuck because he was going to follow Greta.

His stomach sank when he noticed the dance floor resembled a massive chess board. In an instant, gone was his façade of an indifferent punk teenager. The vast board that lay before him seemed to expand and twist, “No, no, no…” He started to mumble under his breath.

As he took in another shaky breath, he realized his now clammy hand was being pulled towards the dance floor by the peppy Valkyrie. His body felt noodle limbed, so he made no effort to stop her, despite a feeling of impending doom lingering over him. Instead, he tried to focus on Greta. Her calming nature had helped him thus far. She looked pretty all dolled up in her ball clothing, though she had always been beautiful.

Her distraction was only brief, however, because the second they stepped onto the ballroom floor, the force of some demon’s magic would rip apart them. It was all Felix could do to swallow a scream. His heart hammered against his chest as he was forced to... Dance...? Each step forward felt like a descent into madness.

By the time they had stopped dancing, Felix was all but clinging to his poor Quidditch team mate. When had he gotten here? The Swede hadn't even noticed. Thankfully Madhup seemed in an annoyingly cheerful mood, and the Swede might have made a remark about it had he not been practically trembling.

He blinked in confusion when Madhup grinned at him, his eyes flickering up to the plant bobbing over them. What? Right, this was a school dance, he wasn't back at Hex trying to save the decaying forms of his friends. A dance. Mistletoe. Innocent enough, despite the annoying bloody enchantments. Felix didn't need to be charmed to dance, his mother had put him through the torment of professional dance lessons as a child.

"Right, sorry." He said, his voice hoarse. The pick up line was absolutely cringe-worthy, but there was an almost annoying charm that accompanied it, and much to Felix's horror a flush bloomed over his cheeks, "M-Merlin, just shut up and come here--"

Felix raised his hands to cup his partner's face. Perhaps it felt romantic, but his true intention was to tilt his head at an angle so he could stare at his Norwegian tentmate and the American she had been paired with. He had recalled seeing him before, one of Greta's many suitors. Felix didn't really care who or what he was, he just knew he wasn't good enough for the little Valkyrie and he wasn't about to let the cad make a move on her. He wasn't a complete ass, however, he was still into the kiss and despite distractions he'd slip in some tongue if it there were an opening to do so.

Light god modding of Johannes and Greta was approved by their writers.

Felix Kolbeck (@Winnie Harper)

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	A kiss cut off the laugh Madhup was having over his own joke. The sound was smothered into a grunt of surprise, though shock wouldn't hold him for long: the chaser was a slave to simple pleasures. His arms automatically wrapped around Felix's waist to draw them snug. Tactile fool that he was, Mad melted to the touch, gladly trading reason and morality for heady distraction. When the brazen spit-swapping contest paused for the two to come up for air, he breathed in broken English: "That was..." eyes fluttered open, nose crinkling in disappointment, "...mid." The kiss was warm, and sweet, and terribly empty. Practically passionless. Whatever this halfhearted display was, it was not living up to Mad's lofty expectations of a make-out session. Worse still, Felix was committing the cardinal sin of not giving the gilded gasbag his undivided attention. Disappointment gave way to concern as he pried, "What is the trouble for you, min arga skönhet? What sours your kiss?" Twisting to follow his gaze, realization struck on spying a head of golden hair. Sweet Greta (@Evelynn Decipio) was like the littlest sibling in a family primarily comprised of mean ass brothers. All it took was one misstep, and some poor sod would have about ten yoked Quidditch players ready to cave his face in. Madhup licked his lips before they pulled into a sneer. "Ohhh.... I see. You know, I would be angry with you for looking at another while you kiss me, if I did not see who he was holding." He patted the small of his back sympathetically as he vowed "Say the word, Felix, and we will murder on the dancefloor." If Theodore (@Opeila Winters) made the mistake of looking their way, he would catch what looked to be two players in a lover's embrace- one holding the other's waist, the other cradling his face- yet with their heads turned away from each other to relentlessly mean-mug him.
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RPING AS CASTELOBRUXO STUDENT MANU MACEDO

“What's worth having is worth waiting for.”
—Brazilian proverb

Manu Macedo had never been to a dance. Well, she'd danced, of course - from Rio, how could she not? Her childhoods had been full of Carnaval and music, and she liked to groove to a beat as much as the next person. But formal school dances were uniquely a British concept, to her knowledge, or at the very least they were not nearly so commonly done in Brazil. Not until students hit university, at least.

So to have a formal ball was very much not expected, especially at summer camp of all things. Of course, Manu now knew it to be a winter camp, but even this was colder than Rio had been when she'd left the previous month - whose idea was it to have snow in Britain in July (or, now, August)? Still, the Castelobruxo student had become more used to the chill over the last few weeks - but she was not used to the idea of fancy dress. As Manu picked her way through the snow, steps clomping heavily in solid black boots she'd borrowed from Aly (one of the very few people here she had actually known from before this summer), she cast disdainful glances at others who seemed to glide across the slippery ground in their ball gowns and suits. Had everyone at this camp gotten the memo to bring these themed dresses with puffy sleeves and layers of tulle? Who was sending out these notices, and why hadn't they heard of international owl post?

Suffice to say that, next to the girls in gowns, lads in livery, and non-binary in all their finery, Manu looked severely underdressed. The fanciest thing she had brought was a very casual little black dress with thick straps over her shoulders and pockets in the skirt, a sweetheart neckline stretching over her chest, and so that's what she wore now as she clomped through the snow. Yes, she couldn't compare to the poinsettia princess that Aly would certainly be tonight, but at least she wasn't in shorts and a baggy t-shirt like normal, so no one could get mad at her for not dressing up.

Upon arriving to the dance floor emblazoned with her name, Manu took a peek at the list of names and actually sighed aloud in relief when she didn't recognise anyone there. Sure, it would have been lovely to have the one person she could call a friend by her side for this first dance, but at least there weren't any people she hated in the group, either. She eyed the golden chessboard-esque dance floor for a long moment as folks arrived and began to dance so exceedingly perfectly that she almost turned and left - okay, Manu could dance, but that was more shimmying and stepping to a beat, not this sort of fancy-ass British dancing. Finally, though, she decided to just own her inability to partner-step and took a single footfall forwards onto the floor - only to be whisked away by the enchantment into whirls and twirls of skirts and suits. "Caralho!" Fuck! she yelped in surprise as the magic tugged her away. Well, at least that explained why everyone here seemed to know all the steps.

By the end of the song, though, Manu had managed to relax into the music a little bit. This wasn't half bad when you were switching partners so quickly you could barely see the other's face, let alone get to know them. It was more like what she was used to - not quite so fancy, but definitely fast-paced. However, as the music faded out, Manu's magic feet moved her to the left and she switched partners involuntarily one final time, into the arms of a tall, pale boy who could have only been from the UK or the US. She looked up into his eyes - Nossa, são azuis Wow, those are blue - and flashed her equally curly-haired partner a small grin. "I say that you are a good dancer," she told him, forgetting the would that was necessary to put her English into the proper tense, "but we just started to dance, isn't that true?" With Manu's thick accent, borne from a lifetime of speaking her native Portuguese and Spanish before starting English as an elder child, whether the boy would understand her or not remained to be seen...

In the meantime, Manu cast a sideways glance at two boys who seemed to be full-on seriously kissing. Tongues in mouths and everything. She could only give them a bemused and mildly shocked, but approving, smirk. Who knew that the British had it in them to go tongue kissing in public like that? Why they'd chosen here to do it, she had no idea, but they were clearly very much in love. There was no other reason for them two to be kissing in such a manner. No other reason at all. (In Brazil, the mistletoe tradition does not exist, so Manu has no idea about it.)

Action: Nothing - just talking to AJ

STA 11 | EVA 12 | STR 6 | WIS 11 | ARC 10 | ACC 13
The Muggle Condition | Fearless | Advanced Casting
Wandmaker |Perfectionist | Spell Spread

Durmstrang | Year 7 | Height: 5' 2"

Russian‏‏‎ | Swedish‏‏‎ | Norwegian‏‏‎ | English

The day of the dance was HERE! For the entirety of the day, Greta had been in an absolutely state, arranging and rearranging her clothing, second-guessing her options, and pulling out others. One might have thought she would have been well prepared for the night given how often she had spoken of its impending approach and gone through the options she had brought with her, but she always seemed to second guess herself or come up with another enticing idea that would take center stage for a time. She braided her hair and rebraided it; played with ribbons and bows, feathers and flowers; tried various accessories. Had any of her Horntail Brothers wanted to find her that day, all they would have had to do was hunt through the maelstrom that had become the Crystallofolia tent.

In the end, she had—naturally—scrapped all novel ideas and returned to her original concept: a regency-inspired gown of pastel salmon and cream and robin blue with a squared bust line hemmed with lace and subtle glass beadwork that shimmered in the flicker of a flame. Her hair had been done up for once, her wild mane of wavy ash-blonde locks tamed sufficiently off her neck. Matching beads had been worked into little twists and complex braids to offer interest and texture. Naturally, her hair had rebelled and denied full submission, wisps of curls falling to brush her shoulders or frame her face long before any of them had even left for the event. Beaded earrings and a lace and beadwork choker completed the ensemble.

All in all, Greta felt like a princess. Absolutely nothing—no Koby complaints, no absence of Roo, no subsequent Niffy sniffles—would spoil her night, or so help her! This was the sort of event that she was most looking forward to, and she intended to make the absolute most of it. Soon enough, any negative experiences would be well and truly buried under a heaping pile of fun ones.

"Ready to come dancing?" When the time came for them to make their way to the event, Greta had eagerly bounded to Felix (@Winnie Harper) where he'd been brooding all evening, took him by the elbow and flashed him an excited smile. To his credit, he hadn't resisted, and Greta spared no effort in complimenting him and the rest of the Horntails on how dapper they looked. It was a rare opportunity for her to be able to see them looking so trim, and they all just looked so handsome she wanted to weep. The mood had dimmed slightly with Roo's absence, and so she did her best to cheer up Niffy on the way, eager to describe all possible manner of beautiful decor and the fun they would have being able to bond over a night of music.

At least until it was made clear that there were a number of different dance floors, and not all of their group had been kept together. Greta pouted a bit as their Captain (@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood as Valentin) and Gellert (@Archer Duncan) went off to find theirs, but shouted after them with promises that they were bound to have a good night and they would meet up afterwards because she wanted to hear all about it! "I suppose it's just us at this one..." She mused, glancing over to Koby and Joho (@Astrea Soleil Neptune as Johannes) while reading through the names on their particular dance floor's registry, before looking back. "Although it looks like Honningbie is here!" (@Pericles Dralt as Madhup)

Her return to the quidditch team, and in particular a shared role with Madhup had seen the two develop a sibling-like bond and rivalry. He had been obnoxiously elusive during the summer, not even deigning to tent with his own peers, instead choosing to fraternize with the enemy, or wherever it was that he had ended up calling home for the month they were here. She was quite excited for the chance to actually spend some proper time with him outside of quidditch.

"And—" Eyes rose, lips parting slightly as one name in particular stood out. Theodore Duncain. (@Opeila Winters) It had been some time since she had seen him. Every visit to the UK had come with the hope to see him again. And every disappointment had painted those memories ever more distant. She chewed on her lips, falling silent as a subtle blush coloured her cheeks. Back during the Spring Ball, she'd devised the reckless plan to finally just kiss him. With the anonymity of masks that the ball had afforded, she wouldn't really have had to worry about any significant consequences. Only, she hadn't seen him. Instead, she really just remembered feeling completely abandoned—by everyone—and had taken out her frustrations on a poor boy wearing a wolf mask. (@Marshal Mozor) Which had been... surprisingly nice. Was he here? she wondered.

In her distraction with the would-be participants, Greta hadn't noticed the shift in her companion's disposition. It wasn't until she heard the muttering that she glanced back to ask Felix to repeat himself when she saw the look of consternation spread plainly across his features. Brows knitted in confusion, she tried to follow his gaze, but was only met with the dance floor in all its brilliantly decor'd glory. Wrongly assuming that he was taking issue with the existence of floating mistletoe, she let loose a guilty little giggle, and breathily said, "You'll be fiiine. It'll be fun!" Then, with a grin and taking him by the hand to pull him forward into the fray, coaxed, "Come on, let's dance! We deserve to let loose a little bit!"

Of course, she wasn't at all expecting for her head to be suddenly filled with dance steps, or for those steps to be quite as complex as they were. Giving into their pull, she gave Felix a squeeze of his hand before letting herself by whisked away into the music, face alighting with the glow of the candles above and her inner exultation. As a pureblood, her mother had instilled within her at least a respectable command of basic dances, that she might impress and spare her family any scandal of embarrassment if ever invited to a notable enough pureblood function. But this was not among that repertoire. It was fun. A trill of giggles and mirthful laughter trailed in the wake of her spinning skirts wherever she moved. Every partner was met with enthusiasm and as much grace as her smaller stature could manage.

When the music paused the first time, she was breathless and flushed, grinning widely with a light of energy and life dancing in her eyes. And it took her a second for it to sink in that she found herself face to face with and in the arms of none other than Theo. "Uh..."

Words failed her. She had imagined a moment such as this more times than she could count over the years, and every time played out in perfect harmony and grace, a picture perfect fantasy where she always had just the right thing to say. Where were those words now?! It was like that saying that someone somewhere had once said: she had spent so much time hoping and envisioning the moment that she didn't know what to do once it actually fell into place. The anticipation just wasn't quite there the way it had once been. Her gaze flicked up to check the airspace above them. A candle floated a number of feet out of reach. She wasn't sure if that helped or made it worse. At least with a sprig of mistletoe, she could just forego the talking altogether. But she had to say something.

"It is good to be seeing you.." A hand pulled back to tuck a loose strand of hair behind an ear, uncertainty clouding her features as she pulled her gaze back to the American. "It was a long time. You are having fun at camp I hope?"

Action: none yet

Moderated Action: Casting Glacius on candle

Trunk

Statistics
Stamina: 8
Evasion: 8
Strength: 9
Wisdom: 14
ArcPower: 8
Accuracy: 8

AJ had thought that with his long absence his days of being randomly signed up for things without his knowledge would've ended. He was curious whether or not the same person was guilty of this every time or if it was some secretive cabal of people who liked to embarrass him, but it was getting to be quite a lot. That said, he was never one to back down from a challenge or shy away from something that seemed a mite scary. So, albeit hesitantly, it seemed he was off to the ball.

He hadn't brought his full formalwear to camp as he had figured there was absolutely no way he was ever going to need it. However, he did have one thing. His kilt, and as much as he wanted to wear it he would feel just a tad silly. He wasn't even sure if this "mistletoe spin" was supposed to be a formal event. He deliberated on the accessory for quite a while before inevitably deciding to keep it in his suitcase. He wasn't really seeking to 'stand out.'

As he arrived to the floor he soon realised he wouldn't really have stood out at all given the array of fancy gown and suits and all other associated outfits inbetween it was unlikely anyone would've given him a second look. Dressed now in jeans, trainers a button-up shirt and a nice-ish jacket he now worried about leaving absolutely zero impression whatsoever.

He wouldn't have long to worry about it as everyone took their places around the dancefloor. He gulped, he hadn't a clue how to dance and he was a mite concerned about how his legs would hold up when he was already quite clumsy with them. He wasn't one of Hogwarts' desirable gentlemen. He wasn't suave or refined or dexterous. He was...AJ. And AJ wasn't a dancer.

The dancefloor was packed with pretty people of all persuasions. Yet before he could even consider quietly stepping away and leaving the music started up. "Oh Jings, Crivvens an' hel' ma bo-AAA..." His bemused mutterings were cut short as he stepped off his square and found his body gripped by magics most foul. He spun and twirled his way around in a blur of partners with all the grace of a professional. Even as his heart raced and his skin went even paler as usual as he couldn't shake the worry that he was about to fall over at any minute.

Thankfully he was spared such a fate and after being whipped around one more time by magic the music suddenly stopped, he whirled around to find himself face to face with an unfamiliar person that he was holding onto. Someone who was evidently so confident in their poise and demeanour that they felt no need to dress up for this ocassion. Damn, AJ wished he had that kind of swagger about him.

She said something in a languge he didn't understand, but soon pivoted into accented English. He did his utmost to focus and pay attention to her words. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have an accent so thick nobody could understand you.

"Oh, ah dansun yeh...ah cannae teek credut. Ah thenk tha flooer's pleeyin trecks." He chuckles slightly. "Ef et were me dansun et'd loo' meer leek tha bairn af ah giruffe." Overindulgent lip-smacking and tongue kissing noises distracted him for a moment as he looked over at a pair that were really enjoying the event. He then became aware of the fact that he still had his hands on this stranger. Swiftly he pulled his hands away and nervously spoke an apology. "S-sorreh, wasnae payen attenshen tae weer meh hands weer. Am nae gonnae..." His sentence trails off as he makes a subtle head gesture to the tongue wrestling pair. "Ah um...yoo have ah loveleh accen'...jus' bee tha' whee." He complements, pale cheeks flushing a slight pink as his nerves grew. He'd expected this to be more like musical chairs. Now he was forced to live with his complete lack of game while surrounded by this...lingering silence...

Actions: Coming to the realisation that he possesses negative rizz.

Greta Fransson @Evelynn Decipio

Being back to summer camp, of course Theo had immediately signed up for whatever kissing game was offered- it was tradition at this point, wasn't it? He hadn't bought any new fancy clothes beforehand, so he again wore the same shirt he had worn to the last two balls. Although... immediately when he put it on he realized that he probably wouldn't be able to pull it off again. There was no way that he wouldn't have grown out of it by the next ball.

Instead of the usual game of spin the bottle, it appeared that the organizers had come up with a game that was also a ball? Countless candles and a few mistletoes were floating in the air when he arrived, giving him the odd feeling like it was almost christmas. Though he had found the winter theme fun from the beginning, the christmas made him feel oddly confused.

Theo arrived on his own, observing the arriving students from the side, until he finally set one foot on the dance floor. Immediately he found himself dancing without control, some force guiding him across the floor, past other dancing students. After the first surprise and a short struggle for control, Theo decided not to care and stopped fighting it. For a few moments he was just dancing, until the spell let go of him and he found himself under a candle- and Greta spun into his arms.

The Thunderbird opened his mouth in surprise and felt his throat dry up. His heart stopped for a second and seemed to continue beating twice as fast. No. He had been wrong, it had never gone away, despite the long time of no contact. He had already sort of guessed that when the thing with Dee went all wrong a year ago.

"Hi, its been a long-", he started, at the same time as she started speaking. A smile crept onto his face and he nodded. "It is good to see you too." His gaze swept over her face, her outfit, that was so much fancier than his own and back to her face. "You look beautiful." He felt his face heat up a little and hoped that it wouldn't be that visible in the dim light of the candles. "I love this camp! I like the winter theme." He looked around for a few moments before letting his gaze move back to her face. "... Wie geht es dir?" (How are you?)

threading as Johannes Sauer
speaking in russian unless specified

Between the mixed bag of summer camp and Hogwarts' general shitstorm, Johannes had neither anticipated nor planned to attend any official event except for Quidditch, let alone a formal dance. Yet one should know that sustaining friendships with the international team was like willingly weaponizing your own loyalties. Becoming one of the Horntails rang closer to being dragged along into whatever catastrophe fate decided to throw at them next. In a collective, of course, because why not? They could practically be tied together with rope and still somehow get into trouble... Even so, the international schools weren't solely visiting to dance and make friendly with the locals this time. They were here to crush their competition and scare the next generation into acknowledging Durmstrang's superiority! If they looked good doing so, Johannes couldn't complain.

His evenings were meant to be spent peacefully (not) sleeping and hanging out with his friends without his handler's judgemental attention. Instead, Johannes had been very cleverly sworn into social interaction by Greta's boundless enthusiasm alone. He'd be a monster to say no to her when she had already put in effort to hook their fellow Durmstrangians into the event. Liberally decorated with all the chains, studs and leather gloves befitting of his dramatic reputation, Johannes' prochronistic outfit matched much closer with Felix's wizarding(?) Demonias than any respectable formal suit. A lot of energy had been spent making sure it was perfect, not that he'd admit to it... Judging from Valentin's rather revealing choice, themes (and buttons??) were practically optional. Greta would likely be the only Durmstrangian to look passably Regency-appropriate, between her swathes of pastel fabric and lace detailing. The accessory-laden Crystallofolia tent was certainly proof of her excitement.

In short, the Horntails looked less like side characters from Pride and Prejudice and more like they were sampling five different Prom themes at once. It was a far cry from their usually (semi)coherent ball looks, no matter how well-primped and punked they were for a night out. Fortunately for every aesthetic involved, their inconsistency issue was quickly resolved as all but three Horntails split off. Even years later, the checkerboard-like dancefloor seemed to mock them from beyond Hexwizard's grave. Knowing Felix's terrible memories of their match's end and the blond's simmering panic, it likely was. Johannes regarded their chaser with concern, yet couldn't act further as Greta finished checking the guest list and stole him off into the waiting crowd.

Stepping in to follow the two, Johannes found the dance floor enchanted not with elaborate costuming and freaky magical side-effects, but with the sudden compulsion to dance. He had intended to provide moral support but had been spun into the fold so easily─ so decisively─ that he could only resign himself to the magic's influence. He was practically an expert third-wheeler by now, but there was only so much he could control. The heart of the cards would guide his way, or something like that. Much like a magical game of musical chairs, the music paused just in time for Johannes to find himself face-to-face with an unknown brunette with bright blue eyes. If not Durmstrangian, then perhaps another international school? Did they have any Hogwarts students in the circle of older dancers? Maybe he should have read the guest list instead of blindly trusting Greta...

With no time to worry over the specifics, Johannes swapped to English out of sheer politeness. “A candle? Lucky for us, we get to ease into it.” His accent rang distinctly American in origin, just as light-hearted as anyone could be in this situation. She was no familiar face, but he hoped to ease the first-round tension with friendly conversation.

The floating candles were far from the usual suspended balls of light so favoured by other party planners, and for a good reason. Spared they were of expected kissing, but not of mild injury. “Ah, careful. Don’t get burnt.” If Dealla would allow it, Johannes would subtly shuffle them slightly off to the side of their original stopping points, just enough to avoid the candle’s dripping wax. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty dress so early into the night.” It truly was quite nice, between the intricate embroidery up the sleeves and the semi-sheer red fabric. Even the other's short jumpsuit somehow worked with the formal wear, even if it was just as un-Regency as his own outfit.

Yet despite Johannes' courteous attitude, he was distracted─ cursorily glancing around the checkered dance floor to keep track of his fellow Horntails. Every time they split the party, something bad managed to happen. It was a side effect of Hogwartian influence, he swore. From Greta's information, their dancefloor consisted of himself, Greta, Felix and Madhup. A decent Durmstrangian lineup, with an even more decent agreement of mutual defence.

By now the coolest chaser and racer on the block (in Johannes' totally unbiased opinion), it was no surprise that their #9 would be all in for something as touchy-feely as this. Hopefully, they'd be paired under a candle together, if only to gossip about their fellow dance partners. It was just the first round of pairings and already he needed some silly respite from the looming future ahead of them. If anything, Felix would be in good hands. Judging from Madhup's easy embrace, the blond was in very good hands, but Johannes wasn't going to linger in that any longer than he needed. Count on Durmstrang to leave no challenge unpursued. Never before had he been so glad to be subject to wax drippings. Skipping over the cosy couple with all the affection-skittish confidence of any real Regency-era gentleman, he shelved his concern for the two.

Greta… where was Greta? From this angle, between the other pairs packed together onto one glowing dance floor, Johannes could just barely recognise their Valkyrie's pretty striped dress and piled hair beneath a mistletoe. With an entire Quidditch team and a half at Greta's disposal, whoever she was paired with would have to be extra gentlemanly around her. Only the best for their own. Johannes couldn't properly express his disapproval without backup, but if he was mentally setting down beartraps... Well, it was all for a good cause. In his experienced opinion, the international schools were trash at keeping romance alive no matter the first impression.

Speaking of first impressions, his didn't look great so distracted. A bit guiltily, Johannes turned his attention back to his dance partner. “Sorry about that. My friends are notoriously a bit awful at picking partners. In this situation though..." He paused, staring knowingly at the floating mistletoes looming overhead some of the other couples. "I suppose I can’t blame them too much.” The faint tingle of foreign magic loomed over him, encouraging only quick interactions until the next pairing. “But enough about that. Tell me, why summer camp for you?”

Action: Making conversation :')

Mod Information

Reducio

Statistics: Sta: 10 | Eva: 17 | Str: 10 | Wisdom: 9 | Arc: 8 | Acc: 18
Abilities: Foulplay, Charmer, Evasive Maneuvers, Rapid Reviver, Blindvision, Wandmaker*, Lovely Creature

Charmer Allies: @Greta Fransson, @Felix Kolbeck, @Madhup Hexum

Wandmaker Information

Reducio

Dragon Heartstring
- Dragon Like Power: +3 to arcane power when casting spells with this wand.
- Accident Prone: 5% chance that the intended spell will rebound on the caster. Non-targeted spells such as counters, healing, and some utility spells that have no target or are self-targeting cannot rebound. This is not prevented by the Perfectionist ability.

Cedar Wood: "Spells performed against this wand owner's enemies (those who have specifically crossed them) tend to be more painful."
Romanian Longhorn: "When their owner is passionate about something, the spells that successfully go off tend to be more dramatic."

Outfit Reference

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