of heatstrokes and heartthrobs
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—date. [ 01/03/26 ]——————word count. [ 401 ]—————— @Harlan Montgomery— Warm air curled around Romélie as she sank, without much grace, into one of the lounge chairs overlooking the central stage of Tenusa's opening ceremony. She wasn't exactly sure what she was thinking when signing up for something like this. The tropical climate the Isle of Divination offered, was NOT what she was used to—frolicking around colder European cities was more her style—and now...the mane she carried so proudly was a wild mess, her skin felt tacky from all the sunscreen that had already melted off her and the scents of ocean salt and unfamiliar foreign foods were making her feel borderline dizzy. Though Romélie was not the type to worry about her appearance—for she was certain she looked like a model 24/7—she was deeply aware how incovenienced she felt. Spotting the space in front of her blissfully empty, she shifted in her seat and kicked her legs up onto the chair that just seemed to be positioned at the perfect angle for her to do so. Slouching deeper into the cushion, she briefly wondered if someone else had sat like this before she gracefully claimed their spot. Oh well—it was hers now. The booming voice of Tenusa's headmaster made her lazilly look up to the stage for the first time since arriving. "Dearest friends," his voice rang out, "we welcome you humbly and gratefully…" Yapa yapa yapa. Romélie was already bored. The speech could've been replaced with a simple wave of his wand and she would've gotten the same vibe. The young girl didn't even try looking interested, instead, she pulled her sunglasses down a little more, just enough to cover the top of her nose, and laid her head back. However, she couldn't help but take notice of the fact, as the headmaster went on, the crowd was clinging to his every word. Pff suckers. He seemed aware of the effect he had on people, which led to Romélie letting out an amused sigh. The guy had potential. She found herself mentally comparing him to some of the famous dictators from history. But the delivery of Mr. Lawrence was a bit too polished for her taste. She liked her dictators more…rough around the edges. With another bored sigh, she turned her attention to one of her seating partners, a smirk already latched onto her face before her eyes even met theirs. "Would you like to see a magic trick?" ——— [ notes ] 1 step closer to feeling the void of the teeth socket ( codes by uly. )— | ———— |
Last edited by Romélie de Brissac on 25 Mar 2026, 20:36, edited 2 times in total.
of heatstrokes and heartthrobs
| —— | 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂 push, press, more, less here together, what's your pleasure? ━━ —summary, this thread is happening on JAN. 3RD, 2026, in the AFTERNOON with @Romélie de Brissac / wc: 433. Tenūsa was certainly different from every wizarding school that Harlan had read up or could've imagined. The swamps, the stench, and the magic here had felt far more primal and freeing than he was accustomed to. If Hogwarts was sterilized, precise, and surgical in its studies, this place had been tapped into the core of nature magic itself and the pulse thrummed wildly and vividly for anyone keen enough to pick up on it. What would his own growth been like if he had been introduced to a relationship with magic that wasn't so extractive? It felt like it was in symbiosis, a harmonious chord of people, place, and magic in tandem thriving with what they had and nothing more. With enough time to day dream and let his mind wander, the Gryffindor hadn't noticed that Headmaster Lawrence Mayard of Tenūsa had been welcoming the students, staff, and other guests to the wilds of Omah Geni. There was a mixed response to those who paid attention eagerly and those like Harlan who drifted in and out of the conversation while exploring whatever his gaze could focus on and taking it all in. After a crazy Winter Break, it'd be nice to ease his way back into school with this event and then the Olympic at Koldovstoretz. " Would you like to see a magic trick ?" The words pulled him back into reality as his gaze spotted a witch who looked like the humidity of the tropics was absolutely not doing her any favors whatsoever. She might've still looked fine in theory but Harlan had a sneaking suspicion that she was the type of girl who wanted hours to enchant her makeup and self to not deal with the rest that being particular about looks entailed. " I guess it depends if you're going to pull a rabbit out of a hat or something. " A single eyebrow cocked upward as she piqued his interest, Harlan lapped in the stranger's disregard of societal norms of respect during a welcoming speech. " But let's see what you got, can't be any less interesting than this man's speech. " Jabbing back lightly, Harlan leaned himself forward onto the seat as he allowed his gaze to meet Ms. de Brissac's as he offered a hand curiously to see what she'd do with the gesture. " Harlan Montgomery. Hogwarts. You? " The words flittered in the air through the dead space of the introduction with a flashy smile and a look of dare and danger for a girl who might've met her match both in audacity and a willingness to provide commotion for the sake of progress. |
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of heatstrokes and heartthrobs
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—date. [ 01/03/26 ]——————word count. [ 411 ]—————— @Harlan Montgomery— Turns out her seatmate was an annoyingly attractive boy looking to be around her age. One with sandy curls, high cheekbones, striking blue eyes and, as a cherry on top, a growing smirk that rivaled even hers. Shiny boy toy, thought Rome to herself, her face splitting into a devious, cheshire-like grin. He introduced himself as Harlan Montgomery, a name that made delightful goosebumps rise up her skin. He sounded RICH! Shiny boy toy with shiny possessions! Rome was elevated. She lightly dropped her legs from off the seat in front of her and leaned closer towards him, accepting the handshake. "Romélie de Brissac. Beauxbatons. You can call me Rome," she introduced herself. At the same time, Rome's left hand deliberately moved into the boy's jacket pocket. Keeping her gaze locked on his eyes and her smile unwavering, she counted the seconds by the pulse in her fingertips. Rule number 1 in blind thievery: don't get picky. Her fingers skimmed through the smooth lining searching. It felt empty at first, so she pushed deeper, hoping she hadn't miscalculated. Finally, her nails brushed against an object of some kind. Small, solid, round and cold to the touch. Bingo! Rome had a sneaking suspicion it might be a coin. Of course, what less could be expected from a rich English boy like him? She didn't hesitate and curled her fingers around it, feeling the faint ridges of the engraving as she withdrew back casually, her arm falling down to the side—the movement hidden behind a shift in the seat and the lazy recross of her legs. For a beat, she did nothing. Then the brunette lifted her hand between them and slowly unfurled her fingers, revealing the coin resting in her palm. "Careful Harlan," she uttered, her voice laced with amusement and a silent promise of trouble. "You might want to keep better track of your pockets." Her eyes briefly flickered to the coin before returning to his face, grin sharpening as she rolled it across her knuckles. "Your precious little English treasure," she said softly before leaning slightly closer, her voice dropping. "I could keep it forever, you know. Or…maybe I'll return it. If you're very, very persuasive." With that her smirk widened , eyes glinting in the soft glow of the lanterns falling from the trees above them. Every second she held the coin between them, every playful pause seemed to be another spark of trouble she was planting between them. ——— [ notes ] ur welcome! ( codes by uly. )— | ———— |
Last edited by Romélie de Brissac on 25 Mar 2026, 20:37, edited 1 time in total.
of heatstrokes and heartthrobs
| —— | 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂 push, press, more, less here together, what's your pleasure? ━━ —summary, this thread is happening on JAN. 3RD, 2026, in the AFTERNOON with @Romélie de Brissac / wc: 422. What is a boy to do when he is asked a question and answered it genuinely? The boring doldrums of this man’s speech droned on in a way that Harlan had wondered why he had decided to come to Tenusa in the first place. At least this girl had been here to waste his time, something that she seemed to have no problem to do. With the casual greeting of two wixen in introduction, his mind paused for a spell at the thought of her last name. de Brissac. There was something about the name that felt familiar in a way that he should’ve recognized. He’d have to poke around later to glean more information about the Beaubaxtons witch. A furrowed brow and a strange look towards the girl had Harlan unsure what exactly she had been doing as he would attempt his own reach into her pocket and his fingers would snag against the hem of her bottoms and the Gryffindor would simply laugh it off and eject from his little ambitious mission to show her that he could be just as crafty — seems like that was simply not the case. A moment later and Romélie’s hands appeared with her sleight of hand tricks showcasing the galleon that he had kept in his pocket, in case he had to show off. He hadn’t much money to his name and that would really put him behind in saving for his Varapidos, but the teenager knew how to read a moment and decided to double down with a sly look over to the French witch. “ I don’t just let everyone have a peek at the Montgomery treasures. ” Innuendo stacked purposefully to see if he could cause a flush on the girl’s cheeks or if she had been more cunning than she had initially let on. Listening to her flitter between playful taunts and gentle jabs to aid her persuasiveness, Harlan would appease her desire and appetite. “ You know what, you keep it as a souvenir. ” A hand upturned as though to offer it to Rome properly. “ I’m a pretty generous guy and I can tell you really need the Galleon. ” She probably wouldn’t like that but he knew how to meet her flames with his own jests. Harlan could tell that the other had been enjoying herself immensely, but he wanted this little game of cat and mouse to play out for just a liiiiitle longer. “ It’ll help you keep England on your mind. ” |
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of heatstrokes and heartthrobs
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—date. [ 01/03/26 ]——————word count. [ 437 ]——————@Harlan Montgomery— Perhaps there was more to Harlan Montgomery than just his riches. For the more his silver tongue spoke and the wider his smirk grew, the more interesting Harlan truly became. He was charming, she'll give him that—though not more than her, no one could rival her allure. Still, his innuendo caught her off guard and as a result, her composure faltered for a second, eyes widening at his boldness. It didn't last long before she joined in though, her sly smirk mirroring his. He definitely had her attention now. "Are you always this bold around pretty girls Mr. Montgomery? Or is it just me you're trying to impress?" Rome teased cheekily, tossing her mane of hair over her shoulder for the extra effect—or at least, she tried to. The humid Tenusa air was not the cooperative kind as it made some of the ringlets stubbornly stick to her face and neck, making the gesture come out softer than intended. However, Romélie being Romélie, it did not make her confidence falter. "You know what, you keep it as a souvenir." That sentence that slipped out of Rome's newest toy made one of her eyebrows shoot up in a quiet question. Barely a second passed before she rolled her eyes (while still sporting a smirk, mind you) to his jab about how he could tell she needed a Galleon. Her? In needing a Galleon? As if! The absurdity made her almost snort out a giggle. "It'll help you keep England on your mind." Cheeky fucker this Harlan Montgomery. She knew damn well he didn't mean England at all. Still, the used metaphor made the grin on her lips widen in a slow and knowing manner. "Very well then. I'd offer you a souvenir too. You know, something to remind you of France," she said, casting him a side glance, "But I don't think you'll have much trouble remembering France, Harlan..will you?" Not waiting for a response, she rose to her feet, smoothing herself over as she turned. The heat had begun to have a bigger impact on the young dhampir than she had originally thought. Curse these humid, exotic places! With the pain in her temples growing, it urged her to the long table filled with delicacies—and more importantly, a cold glass of water. Though, as she moved, she found herself questioning who truly was to blame for her upcoming "heatstroke"—was it the unforgiving climate or him? Surely not him. Right? She spared one glance over her shoulder, shooting the him in question a wink. "See you around England." And with that, she disappeared into the sea of people. ——— [ notes ] meow  ( codes by uly. )— | ———— |