closed Atlantis Valentine's Day Cabin

It was more than a little cliche, spending Valentines day in France of all places. But it looked good. The journey, be it by rail or cabinet or even a procession of brooms (also keeping the mode of transportation vague), was a series of opportunities to be seen. He took these moments in stride, a wide smile, a photo-ready suit consisting of a pair of pleated slacks and a button down shirt. He knew how to look 'unprepared' for photographers while being absolutely ready.

The further they had gotten from Hogwarts, the better he felt. By the time he was in France, he was at ease. The air in France was different. Softer, lighter, free of the weight that constantly pressed down on Mathias’ shoulders back at Hogwarts. It lacked the shadows that curled at the edges of his vision, the whispers that clawed at the corners of his mind. But most importantly, it was far, far away from him.

He was not running from his younger brother, he was preparing his vengeance from a distance. Gideon was a dangerous player in this lethal game. Giddy was a sociopath, he did not need a reason to cause pain, he simply enjoyed it. He had underestimated Gideon, while he knew the childish exterior was a lie, he had no idea how terrifying the monster behind the mask truly was until after Winnie was thrown from the Owlery. Until he finally met his younger brother in St. Mungos.

The final miles by carriage were smooth, almost dreamlike, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside his chest. The second their feet touched Beauxbatons’ pristine grounds, the tension in his muscles loosened—just slightly. Winnie was beside him, her fingers lingering near his own, her eyes sweeping over the elegant marble halls that gleamed under enchanted chandeliers.

He took his cane from the floor of the carriage. “Want to move out here?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was something dark under it—something raw. It was the sort of castle that a princess would live in, she would eat it up, but she would miss her friends and family. Well, what family she had left. Winnie's father had been killed, a wand for hire had ended his life. His father had ordered the kill, he needed to clean up Pride's mess. Not that Mathias felt guilty about it, Winnie would miss the man she barely knew, who had abandoned her briefly and he would shower her with pretty pink things until she was distracted. She would not be sad for long.

It was for the best.

Pride knew best.

They were the first to arrive in the shared quarters, a grand space bathed in cool candlelight reflecting off the clue waters. The tanks were agow with color, pale pinks and vibrant blues and reds. At least the room was not all pink, he silently reasoned.

Mathias dropped his bag near the edge of one of the lavish couches, exhaling as he ran a hand through his hair. “Fancy,” he muttered, glancing around before flicking his gaze toward Winnie. “Not bad for a class trip.”

He watched her take it all in, knowing she was still thinking of the recent traumas she had experienced. Likely remembering in flashes bits and pieces of a past he hoped she would never fully weave together. They did not need to worry about those terrible moments she might suddenly recall, of the fight they had left behind and Hogwarts and the war he had convinced her to postpone. He took a step closer, his fingers ghosting over the back of her hand before catching it in his grasp.

“Just for this week…” His voice was quieter now, more like a promise than a request. “Forget about everything else. No battles. No nightmares. Just us.”

A beat passed. He lifted her hand, pressing his lips against her knuckles, slow and deliberate.

“Can you do that for me, chérie?”

As if the moderation gods themselves thought it best to ruin their joy, Mathias' excitement would fade away when he saw who walked around the corner...

Aamon’s heart was doing something deeply inconvenient.

It had been pounding ever since he stepped off the carriage, loud and relentless like it was trying to remind him of something important.

Excitement, probably. Terror, definitely.

Valentine’s Day was looming, and with it came all the expectations that Aamon did not want to think about. He wasn’t clueless—not entirely—but the idea of romance was still a bit like trying to hold a particularly slippery fish. Everyone else seemed to understand what needed to be done, but Aamon was left standing there, hands wet, smelling a bit funny and looking like an idiot.

The S.N.O.G. event was intended to 'prepare' him for this adventure, but he felt completely unprepared. Like he was given an impossible directive. Like he was supposed to grab random women and lick their faces. He did not want to lick strangers. @Colin McCoire seemed more than happy to do his share of mouth stuff with the girls, Aamon was happy to give Colin part all of his quota also. The first year Slytherin felt crippled under the weight of expectation. When he looked up at the dreamy castle, he let out a hesitant sigh. (Keeping the grounds described as vague because the info is not highly detailed regarding the setting.) The place was real pretty, it reminded him of Hogwarts if Hogwarts was a fairy tale rather than a cautionary tale.

There was a thread of potential excitement as he pondered the topic of this holiday of romance. He knew he liked girls. He would love to know more about them. Well, some girls at least. Most girls were downright terrifying, but he felt he could like them if he survived them, but survival was questionable. Any warm feelings he might have had were quickly drowned the moment he entered the shared space and saw him.

His brother, Mathias Pride, he was standing there with his unfortunate girlfriend 'the pink lady.' Her real name was Winnie Harper, she was some muggle girl, muggle-born, something not very wizardry, that Mathias had decided to latch onto at the end of his first year to garner his father's appreciation. It was strange that a pureblood would seek a girl with a weaker bloodline for the sake of their parents but they had a unique family. The Athanatos family was known publicly for their 'open mindedness' which was of course a lie. A pureblood family does not stay 'pure' for long if they willingly branch out. There was a status that came from having a pureblood family. There was a strength in knowing that probability is on their side when it came to bearing not only wizards but also Seers. They had refined their bloodline for centuries. The point was getting other people to branch out. The weaker their bloodline, the stronger theirs was comparatively.

When Aamon saw Winnie his gut twisted in regret when he saw the unfortunate creature trapped alongside his older brother Mathias. Aamon had known they’d be here—had to be here—but seeing them in the flesh, together, in the same room, made his stomach twist violently.

He wasn't stupid. He knew that things in the family had been cracking ever since the new year, but this was the first time all three of them were in the same place since everything had gone bad. He found it odd that his father would send him on an errand: to watch his brothers. To play the role of spy. It was not like he could do more than observe the two of them, especially if they resumed the battle they had in London.

It was complicated. Aamon had thought he had nearly killed Winnie. That the dolls had thrust her from the window that frigid December day. Giddy had claimed that Winnie had jumped. But neither were true...

And Mathias knew.

And Gideon knew that Mathias knew.

As for Aamon?

Aamon knew everything.

His skin felt too tight, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he took in the tension already thick in the room.

Their father, Thaddeus, had been furious with Mathias—furious at the shame, at the disobedience, at the fact that Mathias had dared to be proud instead of afraid. But Aamon knew the truth, knew what Mathias had done, what both of them had done to Winnie.

It was a ticking bomb just waiting to go off.

And now, here they all were.

Shoved together in this too-perfect little picture of brotherly unity.

Aamon swallowed hard, forcing himself to move, tossing his bag onto the nearest empty space. His breath came sharp through his nose. He had one goal here—enjoy himself, avoid disaster, and somehow, somehow, make it through this trip without letting the entire world fall apart.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath, flopping down on the couch with an exaggerated sigh. “This is gonna go so well.”

The halls and grounds of Beauxbatons were pristine (and not highly described), draped in a soft, ethereal glow that only seemed to intensify the event’s romantic pretense. The scent of roses and enchanted chocolates hung in the air, and delicate warm candlelight cast a dreamlike shimmer over everything. It was beautiful, in an obnoxiously perfect sort of way. The setting screamed 'overcompensation' and expectation and the thought made the Hufflepuff chuckle.

Gideon loved Valentines Day. It was a day of promise and obligation. One of those days were egos were bolstered by confessions, hopes and dreams made or dashed in those same moments. In the teen's mind, love equated to weakness, and if one was not careful obsession.

Romance was a tool to either suit one's obsession or to tether another's obsession to one's own ambition. He saw how desperate girls were for a partner, unable to find value in themselves on their own. It was undeniably sad and it also offered a boy such as Giddy such opportunity.

Romance was a weapon wrapped in satin ribbons, dipped in perfume, laced with whispered promises and saccharine lies of forever and fidelity. Books and shows, and those things muggles call 'movies' display an impossible, unfathomable love. They end with the implication of a 'happily ever after' but Giddy knew that those stories likely did not end there. Stories rarely have a happy ending. The romantic protagonist is either a soft-lived fool or a master manipulator and the author sensible enough as to end the adventure before his true colors shone through.

Gideon had never looked at romance as something genuine, because nothing genuine ever held power. Romantic settings were a game, a stage set for manipulation, where people let down their guard, where their emotions made them weak and pliable.

@Finnegan Connor had made this truth self-evident.

A candlelit dinner? The perfect place for a slow unraveling—where tension could be strung just right, where a well-timed comment could shatter or solidify a person's trust in an instant.

A moonlit stroll? An ideal setting to corner someone in their own mind, to plant a seed of doubt that would grow like ivy long after the night was over. Or to simply bash their head.

A ballroom? Oh, that was Gideon’s favorite. People dancing, moving in careful steps, thinking themselves graceful when in reality, they were just waiting for someone to step on their toes. A ballroom was a battleground of hidden rivalries, secret confessions, and cruel little accidents waiting to happen.

He adored watching people fumble in romantic settings, the way they trusted too easily, the way they exposed their vulnerabilities because the lighting was soft and the music was sweet. It made them stupid.

It made them prey.

Because romance was never about love.

It was about power.

And Gideon knew how to take it.

His only regret on this day was that his alleged paramour Finn was ghosting him. And here he thought they had something 'special.'

Gideon Athanatos had never been to Beauxbatons before, but his cousin Hess had been sent here for a year when Vladimir took ill. He had heard stories about this place and he had to admit that the stories had done this setting justice. Beauxbatons was exactly as he imagined—soft, delicate, curated like a painting behind a glass frame. Pretty, poised, flimsy. He would have much preferred the dark corridors of Durmstrang, where menace was expected, or the creeping gothic charm of Hogwarts. But no, here he was, confined to a gilded palace of hearts and lace.

That was fine. More than fine.

Because if there was one thing Gideon Athanatos knew how to do, it was use appearances to his advantage.

And Beauxbatons had presented him with an opportunity too perfect to ignore.

His family had, of course, been assigned a cabin together, because the universe (or perhaps his ever-watchful father) had a twisted sense of humor.

Mathias. Brooding, infuriating, constantly in his way. The new golden boy who was trying to replace Vladimir. Gideon would eventually snuff his light out. He was here, predictably with the red headed strumpet, keeping up appearances. Pathetic.

Aamon. His poor little brother, naive as ever, always so ready to be deceived. He wondered how long it would be before Aamon’s attention had latched onto some girl—a likely fleeting interest, one that would crumble under the weight of reality. How sweet. How predictable he would likely be. He wondered if Aamon was sent here to observe the chaos or if he was here of his own want. Aamon was scared of his own shadow, it was unlikely he would have the gumption for such a journey on his own.

He was not worried by this assortment—Mathias was a threat because he held too much power, Aamon was an obstacle because he was too easy to manipulate. But neither could really stand toe to toe with them. They had boundaries, limits, fears and rules. He was not limited by such things. He was something else entirely. Unpredictable. A wild card in a family full of carefully laid schemes.

Gideon liked to control things.

Right now, he had an introduction to make.

Gideon approached casually, his movements slow, deliberate. He didn’t shrink himself, didn’t hide—not here. Not in a place where no one knew better. Instead, he let his presence slip into something softer, unassuming. He wore charm like a second skin, the careful kind that made people relax, that made them lower their guard.

His smile was warm, his blue eyes glinting like sunlight on glass.

"Aamon, dear brother," he greeted, voice smooth, just a little too amused. His gaze flicked to Winnie and his bother Mathias, head tilting slightly as if studying Winnie. "I am relieved you have made such a swift recovery."

His words were dipped in sugar, but his mind was already turning, already working.

They did not get to have things.

Not unless Gideon allowed it.

By the end of this trip, Beauxbatons would not be quite as perfect as it had been when he arrived.

CABIN MEMBERS:

@Winnie Harper | @Mathias Pride | @Bubba McGarry | @Aamon Athanatos @Nabi Park | @Avis Marlong | @Matthew Campbell | @Gideon Athanatos

Avis hadn't packed a trunk, she hadn't found a need to. Her satchel, after all, fit as much as a trunk. All she needed to do was empty out her books, pack leggings, tunics, toiletries, and her school robes, and she was done packing with space left. By then, she had simply thrown in some miscellaneous knick-knacks and a pack of cards, before heading off to Beauxbâtons, her satchel over her shoulder and clarinet case in hand - it was small, and she wasn't about to miss out on six days worth of practice.

The ride itself had been rather uneventful for Avis, though the scenery had been interesting. She had played Lengen the majority of the way there and was now bored of the game, regretting her choice to not bring any books.

Distracted in her thoughts, Avis slipped into her assigned cabin and stopped short, her lips parting in a silent gasp. It was incredible, to say the least, the kaleidoscope of turquoise waters flowing with tropical fish. Crossing towards the nearest window, she paused in front of it, taking in the scene that seemed to stretch miles beyond the window, a sight which Avis knew couldn't possibly be real, and yet could be. The Wizarding World never ceased to amaze her. Having soaked in the view, she finally turned to the room, breaking into a grin. 'Aamon!"

The source of her pleasant surprise was slumped on the couch, dejected. Frowning, she followed his gaze across the room, landing on the vaguely recognized Mathias. Thinking back to the things she had been told, (arrogant, abrasive, sleazy), she understood his disappointment. Not that the source of those things was completely reliable. She pulled her gaze back to Aamon. She hadn't seen him, since taking him to Lécuyer. She bit her lip a moment, hoping he had forgiven her. It had helped, she thought, he had those trinket things now, as far as she knew, and that had to be a good thing.

Next to Aamon, now, was his brother. Vladimir or Gideon or maybe another brother that hadn't been mentioned. Unconsciously, she slowly traced the palm of her hand where she had decided it would be a good idea to stab herself with a thorn. Not necessarily the best of her ideas, she would readily admit. She crossed the room to Aamon, leaving as wide a berth as she could around his brother, before setting her clarinet down and pulling her satchel over her head. "Are you...How are you?" Besides the fact that his older brother/cousin was inconveniently staying in the exact same cabin, which she assuming did not add to his enthusiasm for the trip.

At least, she reasoned, the pink lady was there as well, who was exploding in pink. If she had been wearing pink the last time Avis had seen her, she was painted in it now. Pink hearts were everywhere. She looked sweet, she looked innocent, a stark contrast to her boyfriend's intensity. She had to tame him somewhat, didn't she? She offered the pink lady a grateful smile.

Casting another glance around the room, Avis realized she was now going 4/4 in knowing the people of her cabin, which wasn't really a good thing, considering three of the four were related to Aamon, whose family situations seemed stressed at best, and the fourth who would soon be added to the list.

Leaving her interactions with Gideon rather vague, considering her past interaction isn't really resolved yet.

Aamon had been deeply entrenched in his own personal nightmare—aka, his brothers existing within a five-foot radius of him—when a familiar voice cut through the noise.

"Aamon!"

His head snapped up, startled, before his mind caught up with reality, and—oh. Oh.

Avis.

For a brief, shining moment, the pressure in his chest lessened.

It wasn’t that he felt safe around her, not after the nightmare that was Finnegan Connor and whatever vendetta the Gryffindor had against him and his family. But she was still an anchor in a setting of fiends and victims (pink lady). Between the sheer terror of Gideon and Mathias breathing the same air as him, and the general implications of Valentine’s Day looming overhead, he had not been prepared for anyone normal to appear in his line of sight.

Not that Avis was exactly normal, but—still. She was close enough.

He blinked as she made a very obvious effort to keep her distance from his brother—his brothers, plural, and yeah, he really couldn’t blame her for that. How did she know Giddy? Did she know him? Probably not, he was just being paranoid.

She set down her things, pulling the strap of her satchel over her head, and then—"Are you… How are you?"

Aamon opened his mouth.

Shut it again.

Then, after a long pause, he slumped dramatically onto the back of the couch with a suffering sigh.

“Avis,” he whispered, as if he were a tragic prisoner of fate, “It’s so much worse than I imagined.” No reference to the dangerous dolls, mostly because the author does not know if they had been managed.

He gestured, vaguely, toward his brothers, before waving a hand wildly at the cabin in general.

“Look at this place! Trapped underwater!” His voice pitched higher, like he was describing a crime scene. “The school is buzzing about valentines day, the Slytherin boys were practicing their snogging. I am drowning in romance. I was not built for this!”

He threw a glance toward Gideon and Mathias, his body going rigid again as reality crashed down on him like a pile of bricks.

His voice dropped lower, suddenly more serious.

“And they’re here. Both of them.” He ran a hand through his already-messy hair. He had a third brother who was even more dangerous than the first two. I have to be vague about that because that is also not resolved. “It’s like I was lured into a false sense of security, only to be ambushed at the last second.”

Aamon had been hoping for a calm trip. Maybe some fun. Maybe some figuring things out about—well, things. But no. Instead, this. He knew they would be here. His father made him come, made him observe but a part of him childishly thought 'maybe they would not be here.' Reality had hit him now and his anxiety was coming to a simmering boil.

Finally, after a moment, his expression twisted into something between genuine curiosity and abject dread as his eyes flickered back to her.

“…Why are you here, actually?” he asked. “Should I be worried?”

_{Banner by miss Haven Bohannon}

| Note: Thoughts, Speech|

Nabi had noted his attire for the trip and raised an eyebrow slightly, What in Merlin's beard is he wearing? she hummed softly, gently shaking her head, Mother and Father would faint if they saw you wearing that... Nabi sighed softly as she held her sleek black trunk with silver fastings, she had packed precisely what she needed and a bit more, making sure she was well prepared in case of an emergency. Wearing a simple black dress of soft silk material, she may have stuck out a bit in the light-colored environment.

Even more so when Valentine's Day came with colors of pink, white, and blood red.

Nabi glanced around the entrance hall of the flawless Beauxbatons grounds, waiting for Matthew to retrieve his... things from the carriage they had shared. Having officially met the young boy sometime between the S.N.O.G. event and earlier today, (thread date TBD, I will edit as soon as I know) she found his presence tolerable enough to let him tag along; not that she would admit it another soul— she considered him something akin to a friend.

She had not planned on attending this school trip; Nabi had never been one for... love. Mother always told her that love was the ace to anyone's deck of emotional cards, that only a fool wore their heart on their sleeves.

If only she knew her ace had been slightly dented.

Nabi walked with Matthew toward their assigned cabin. "I still do not understand why you packed so...light, Mr. Campbell.", you look like you are swimming in your clothes. Shaking her head gently, the sound of her bar shoes clunking on the ground softly. I should take him shopping for proper clothes one day. Her eyes flicked over to his rather small bookbag, Did he even bring clothes?

She would not be surprised if he did not.

Nabi gazed down to see a rather peculiar choice of footwear.

Why do those weird shoes have so many holes? Are they broken? The door to their cabin was merely a few steps ahead, oblivious of the people inside and the tension between them all.

Date: February 12th 2025

In the aftermath of S.N.O.G Matthew had been unsure how to feel and found himself drifting rather aimlessly around the halls of Hogwarts. Untethered to reality and unsure how he stood with the rest of the snakes it had helped immensely to grow closer to the girl who shared his tendency to spectate those around her watching as the world passed them by. So when she spared him the gruelling task of attending this French excursion alone by signing up for the same cabin, his heart couldn't help but grow to accommodate her even more. Matthew had barely left the country let alone crossed the sea and he wasn't about to do that journey alone.

To utterly no one's surprise but his own Matthew was made to look like a complete and utter idiot as he had urgently owled home demanding his passport only to find the necessity completely irrelevant. Of course wizards didn't care about travel restrictions and documentation, when did they ever think twice about well anything. Stood waiting out in the courtyard of Hogwarts with his little backpack filled with clothes (mostly jackets) and rocking a double denim vibe his father would have been proud of. Completing the look and complementing his soul were his sage green crocs decorated with mushroom and frog jibbitz.

The foul stench of distaste dominated the air around them emanating from the young Park as she took in the sight of him, noticing the hand stitched repairs that etched scars into the vintage denim jacket. Lovely as Matthew was his taste did him no favours but he dressed like he wore his heart on his sleeve a mixture of hand me downs and charity scores leaving him overflowing with excess fabric. Money couldn't buy the kind of happiness he had, for material wealth had nothing on the love stitched into each item he owned.

Having had to deal with an entire psychological evaluation of his poor dress sense and terrible packing coordination on the carriages over Matthew couldn't help but howl at her estimation of him. The boy was decidedly everything she was not but unlike most she didn't make him feel badly for it simply expressed the deep discomfort it left her in which was somewhat better, he supposed?! With her sleek black trunk that was almost the size of the girl herself he wondered how deeply she was going to oppose when she discovered he had brought more jackets than t-shirts.

Finally reaching to the school Matthew's breath was utterly struck taking in the view of the pristine châteaux adorned with ornately carved baroque style Rotunda's and towers of marble in a dazzling white that glittered in the sunlight nestled against the backdrop of the snow capped Pyrenes. With lavish gardens greeting them and huge winged horses with pristine fur as stark white as the castle walls he was utterly enchanted. Every step towards their cabin caused him to stop and admire the scenery much to his companions annoyance but while she may be used to such luxuries this was the fanciest place he had ever seen except Hogwarts and he was going to relish every second.

After the marvels of the sights paled into the background and the cabins were mere feet away he turned to Nabi and noticed her gaze was admiring her crocs. Truthfully her face was one of continued disgust but it was obvious she was just confused to the incredible ingenuity of the shoes and he would prove it, "Don't you love them, they're my crocs. Wait til you see this"- flipping then on and off with practiced ease he adjusted the foot hold then slipped back in -"BAM! Sportsmode!" Seemingly unaffected by his performance his grin turned mischievous as he shot off into a run backwards throwing himself through the door of their cabin assuming no one would yet be there.

Laughing at the state of Nabi's face while he ran from her, a mixture of disappointment and sheer disbelief the joy broke as he felt himself bump into something behind him and almost toppled over. Turning to face what he assumed would be a solid object he found a boy that unsurprising in light of recent event towered over him at 5 foot, I mean why was everyone so tall in comparison to him. The somewhat older looking boy had a similar mess of hair to Matthew's own only blonde rather than brunette and piercing blue eyes you could easily lose yourself in. The boy vaguely reminded him of Aamon but it was his clothes that brought the smile back to his face, at least he wouldn't be the only oversized king present.

Stumbling out a quick apology "Sorry" his breath was once again snatched by the wall behind him dazzled with an aquatic display of coral and fish of vibrant colours that drew him in. He had never seen waters so blue and clear in all his life, "Beautiful-" The word slipped past his tongue before he realising he had lost himself in his thoughts and to the rest of the world he was still staring at the form of this slender yet sturdy slumped boy in front of him. "Sorry I didn't mean you, I meant the view. Not that you're not I just em yeah hi I'm Matthew master of awkward introductions." Desperately hoping for a rescue attempt he turned back towards the door hoping to find Nabi but eyes stopped dead as he instead found Aamon and another girl sat together.

Well if his first introduction had been a sign of what was to come, his secondary could only make it worse. Would Aamon be angry at him for the events of S.N.O.G or still regard him as a friend like they had become. Matthew couldn't be sure but with a bright smile he hoped for the best and shyly waving said, "Hi Aamon." Making his survey of the rest of the room didn't help alleviate his anxiety, there seemed to be a palpable tension you could cut with a knife and each pair was now stood in a weird couple formation the final pairing older than the rest. Seemingly from the way they were holding each other they were the only true couple of the room but Matthew's face couldn't help but warm slightly in happiness at the red headed girls bright decorum in the sea of drab that was the rest of their outfits. Head light he chuckled under his breath knowing just how much Nabi was going to hate the radiant dress.

Interacting with @Nabi Park, @Gideon Athanatos & @Aamon Athanatos
Mentioning @Winnie Harper

"Am I in fucking France?" Bubba asked himself as he awoke in his carriage. A couple of the first years he'd wound up sharing the carriage with looked up at the sudden outburst of foul language, one, in particular, looking scandalized, not that the child's scandalized look even remotely phased Bubba. He was confused and not happy. He'd received an owl earlier in the week telling him there would be a carriage waiting to take him and some others to a cabin for a fun weekend. He just assumed he'd travel for an hour or two but now... it sure looked like they were in France. Then he started to recognize the grounds and buildings from pictures he'd seen in various books of Beauxbatons. Why was he here?

The carriage rumbled on for a bit longer before they happened upon an area with a few cabins spread around. The carriage stopped and his carriage-mates disembarked. He assumed they had arrived - for what purpose he could not say - and slowly claimed out of the carriage. The look on his face was not pleasant. He just didn't understand why he was here. Was this someone's idea of a joke? He would've been perfectly happy to stay at Hogwarts and keep working on all the catchup work he'd been given since coming back, but here we were.

He followed the crowd of meandering students until he found the cabin assignments. He went over to his and stopped at the door, taking a deep breath and fixing his hair before walking in to see what awaited him. He also gave his clothes a quick once over to make sure they were straight and clean. He was wearing a Spiderman hoodie, blue jeans, his Boston Red Sox hat, and bright red and white Nike trainers. He opened the door and was taken aback as soon as he walked in. The cabin was like entering another world. He was under da sea and he loved it. He turned and looked out the window, but it wasn't a window to the grounds, it was a window to the sea - a place that fascinated him but he could not experience. There was a coral reef in the distance and for a moment he just stood there and took it in.

He then turned back around and surveyed his cabin mates for, well, whatever the hell this was. There were a few boys there that he didn't know but looked to be brothers - unpleasant ones at that, a few other kids he didn't know, and Winnie. At least there was someone he knew. He smiled at her and took his rucksack off his back, placing it on the floor. While the cabin itself was spectacular the vibes were... not great, at the very least odd. He wasn't sure how to break the ice so he asked the only question he could think of, "So... I got an owl saying a carriage would be waiting for me and I dozed off on the way and woke up in France, that's normal, right? Anyone want to tell me what I'm doing here?"

Interacting: @Winnie Harper | @Mathias Pride | @Aamon Athanatos | @Nabi Park | @Avis Marlong | @Matthew Campbell | @Gideon Athanatos
Mentioning: @N/A

Interacting: @Aamo Athanatos, @Matthew Campbell

Avis had to bite her lip in order to keep a snicker from escaping. Aamon was just being so dramatic. He had slumped against the back of the couch, and in a pained whisper, muttered about how much he hated Valentine's Day. He was here, with his brothers, of whom Avis could clearly grasp the tension, even though she didn't know about the newest source of tension, and he was whining about about Valentine's Day. An awfully first-world problem for the kid with much bigger problems to be worried about.

He had been like this before, just about every time she had interacted with him, and usually for good reason. But this hatred of Valentines Day? Not necessarily a worthy cause for alarm. She spoke, lightly teasing him, but carefully. He was still fragile. "Well then...ignore it. I'm here for a feast and to check out another wizarding school, not for Valentine's Day. If you don't like the romance - Ignore it." That was certainly what she planned to do.

But then he grew suddenly much more serious, and much more like the Aamon she usually knew, and Avis sombered quickly.

“And they’re here. Both of them.” He was trapped in a majestic underwater dungeon with two of the people he hated the most.

Avis' gaze bounced from Mathias to Gideon and quickly back to Aamon. Aamon was speaking softly, sure, but they were still all in the same room, not necessarily the best spot to complain about one's siblings. So she just shrugged helplessly, a relatively lame response, but she didn't know what to say. Any advice she was to give him would also be heard by his brothers, which sort of defeated the purpose of giving the advice.

“It’s like I was lured into a false sense of security, only to be ambushed at the last second.” Avis nodded slightly. Aamon was Prince Prospero, trying to hide in his abbey, and yet his ebony clock kept ringing the hour, ringing the impending doom. But that would make - her eyes widened slightly - Pride or Gideon the masked man. She shivered slightly...that analogy was not one that she had wanted to connect...

“Should I be worried?” Avis cast another glance at the four members of the cabin who knew each other too well to be flicked off as a coincidence. The moderator gods had never been kind to Aamon now, and chances are they wouldn't start now. "I...I don't know." She massaged the back of her neck with her hand, "I hope not.

Her uncertainty was momentarily broken as a person shot through the door - backwards - ramming himself into Gideon, and stumbling over an introduction, a chaotic tornado of an entrance breaking the heavy disappointment in the room. It was sort of a relief, Avis had been half expecting another Athanatos or two. Going off the non-formal clothing, the chaotic entrance, and the presence of Crocs, he seemed safely non-Athanatos. Which was a pleasant break. But also, "Sports mode? Do you really walk around all day in sports mode?" I mean, to each his own, but there were limits. At that point, they were just sneakers with holes.