When a hand is not just a hand [Eden] on Cascade Hall

Selina Skies

April 17, 2020 9:37 PM

The Ball by Selina Skies

The ball was always… an exciting one. Honestly, Selina had her doubts about whether upping the pressure on a bunch of hormonal teenagers was, strictly speaking, a ‘good idea.’ The weeks leading up to it certainly seemed like a storm of fuss and worry, with everyone distracted in class. She had also had a couple of students throw more than usual at her to deal with in the last couple of weeks. Mostly in a good way though. For given values of the term, where life circumstances couldn’t be said to be good but… Certainly some interesting things were set to happen this evening.

And then, when she stepped into the hall, she remembered why they did it. Besides ‘tradition.’ She looked at the set up - the flower arch at one end, with a hired photographer ready and waiting. The little tables around the edge, with their tablecloths and fancy seat covers. The buffet dinner at the back, and all of it surrounding the dance floor. And it was… special. It might have been a while since she had been sixteen - or any of the ages of the attendees - but she remembered that feeling and, at that age, how rare it had been. A lifetime of going to weddings could make you forget just how much fun it was when all this was laid out, and it was possibly the first time in your life you’d done something like it, and definitely the first it had been all about you. The students might have gone to weddings or fancy parties as guests. Perhaps a few of them had even had big celebrations for their seventeenths or other memorable occasions. But this felt different.

The main student body entered the room first, whilst the prefects, head students and their dates waited. She had checked that everyone was alright there, and that no one wanted exempting from the process.

“Welcome to the Midsummer Ball,” she announced, “We will be announcing the house cup winners part way through the night. Outside of that, you will be free to dance, to get photographs and to just generally enjoy yourselves. But first, let’s welcome your prefects and head students, along with their dates, to get the evening started,” she stated, offering a brief round of applause as the selected students took to the floor for the opening dance.

OOC - you may reply in any order and set your post at any point during the first half of the evening (i.e. you do not have to wait to see the prefects’ posts). You can god-mod stock figures like the photographer. Most of all, have fun!

Subthreads:

Shall we begin? [Zara] by Felipe De Matteo with Zara Jackson

When a hand is not just a hand [Eden] by Brett Newell with Eden Manger, Isis Carter-Xavier

I came tonight to put my work on display. by Jessica Hayles with Lyssa Fitzgerald

You're dancing. [Tabitha] by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne with Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne

At your service, Miss Brockert. (Ivy) by Nathaniel Mordue with Ivy Brockert

There'll be music, there'll be light [Tag: Gary] by Jasmine Delachene with Gary Harper

This is perfect by Dorian Montoir with Jezebel Reed-Fischer, Jean-Loup Arceneaux

Shall we...? (tag Cleo) by Parker Fitzgerald with Cleo James, Felipe De Matteo

"Running behind" [Tatiana] by Vladimir Brockert with Tatiana Vorontsova

On the wrong foot [Katerina] by Martin Crosby V with Katerina Vorontsov

Observe the Mating Dance of the Homo Sapien Magius by Lawrence Marsh with Killian Row, Grayson Wright, Theo Spurn

We look nice. [Malikhi] by Johana Leonie Zauberhexen with Malikhi Hill

I'll wear what I want. by Morgan Garrett with Leonor De Matteo

This isn't quite anything I expected. by Mara Morales with Josephine Clyde

Life is a lie, let's make a new one. [Mab] by Alexander Pierce-Beales with Mab, Theo Spurn

All the feels! by Theo Spurn with Lyssa Fitzgerald

Shall we have a ball? [tag: Evelyn] by Heinrich Hexenmeister with Evelyn Stones

We are fabulous. [Ellie] by Freddie Zauberhexen with Ellie Alperton

Well, this feels rather lonely. by Isabella Harrington with Sadie-Lake Chalmers

How utterly pointless by Topaz Brockert with Leonor De Matteo

Unfair by Sophia Priory with Jeremy Mordue

Judging your attire by Esme Brockert

I am the harbinger of queerness (tag Lyssa) by Ness McLeod with Lyssa Fitzgerald

Exactly what I feared. Exactly what I expected by Bridget Ferguson with Jezebel Reed-Fischer

Take two. Or as many as you'd like. Action! by Felipe De Matteo with Zara Jackson

Das ist nicht mein Ding by Hilda Hexenmeister with Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

Unacceptable by Caitlin Pierce with Sylvia Mordue

You can't say my posts aren't educational by Gabriel Wilson

Is this thing mandatory? by Anya Delachene with Morgan Garrett

A night to remember by Peyton O'Malley

House Cup Winners by Selina Skies with Tarquin Fox-Reynolds, Mary Brooding-Hawthorne, Dorian Montoir

Good evening? (tag Ruby) by Dorian Montoir with Ruby Brockert

I think I get it (tag Nathaniel) by Jeremy Mordue with Nathaniel Mordue

Testing the waters. by Dathan Fischer

It could be worse by Beau Tate

13 Selina Skies The Ball 26 1 5

Felipe De Matteo

April 17, 2020 10:02 PM

Shall we begin? [Zara] by Felipe De Matteo

Felipe tugged at his bowtie. He sort of hated that he'd gone with a bowtie. He sort of hated that he was going at all. But that was mostly just because he was scared he was going to mess everything up. Zara had agreed to be his date which was absolutely insane because she could clearly do much better. Whatever happened after this, tonight had to be perfect. There were a lot of things he didn't know, but he knew for sure that he really wanted to be friends with Zara, which means he needed to not screw it up.

Finally, his bowtie was straight enough. His tux was straight enough. His hair was perfectly quaffed, although his urge to run his fingers through it already promised that it probably wouldn't make it to Cascade Hall. That was just as well because it was a look that his parents would have loved, and he didn't want to dwell on that.

He took a deep breath and left Crotalus behind. Students were milling about, making their way to the Ball, making their way to meet someone, or else wandering about. The one that Felipe cared about, however, was going to meet him nearer Cascade Hall. He supposed that made sense, because he ought not to know where Crotalus commons was. He already knew about Pecari because Leonor wasn't famous for her discretion, but he didn't need to know more than that. He didn't need to that much.

Upon his arrival, Felipe began wondering if he looked silly. He wasn't sure what exactly was wrong, but he just felt ridiculous. This wasn't a feeling he'd had before, even at the few formal events he was expected to attend as the De Matteo heir. Before he realized he was doing it, he had already messed up his hair running his hand through it. Whatever. This was life now.

He arrived before Zara and did his best to not look like a lame weirdo as he stood there, waiting for his date. Date!

22 Felipe De Matteo Shall we begin? [Zara] 1434 Felipe De Matteo 0 5

Zara Jackson

April 17, 2020 11:02 PM

Who needs a tiara when you have a crown? by Zara Jackson

Zara ran her fingers through her hair one last time, carefully teasing it into place. She felt like people would say she was ‘such a girl’ if she claimed to have been getting ready for the ball ‘for days’ but that was cos they were ignorant white people who had no idea how time-consuming hair could be. She had done all the Proper Stuff. All the boring deep conditioning and made sure it was really and properly detangled not just ‘omg, it’s Monday again already?!’ levels of quick firefighting detangled. It had made sense to do that a couple of days back, to spread out the amount of time she spent on the whole process, otherwise she would just end up getting bored and taking shortcuts. After that, she had put it into a couple of quick French braids that’d last a couple of days and which would stop it getting too wrecked again in the meantime.

That didn’t mean there was nothing to do on the actual day. It still took some spritzing in water, getting it damp enough to gently untangle, and it was a good idea to give it some more moisture (counter-intuitively, water was not moisture) as she brushed and teased it up and out. No taming it back down. No pretty and orderly little ringlets. She was working out the curls to their full and natural potential. She finally finished the look with glitter spray. Less for hold, which it had by itself, but more for sparkle.

She had plenty of that. From head to toe, she was golden. She’d more than halved Eva’s make up routine but the chunky gold glitter eyeshadow had been her favourite part of that. She just hadn’t done all the boring shading with multiple layers, or skin base stuff. Shimmer eyeshadow, glistening lipgloss, and she was good to go.

The colour scheme continued through her dress too. It was a light, goldish-fabric with swirling intricate patterns on the bodice picked out in sequins. These gave way to a gauzy mid-length skirt which swished around her calves as she moved. The outfit was finished off with glittery gold ballet pumps. She had tried heels, and she could see how they might look better, but they had just made her feel like a wobbly newborn fawn. And she wanted to strut, and to own it.

She bounced up to the Cascade Hall, almost forgetting to be elegant in her eagerness to get this party started, but then she caught sight of Felipe and remembered - they were being fancy. She slowed, lifting her head and putting back her shoulders, deciding that - given that she had a crown - she should move like a queen.

“Good evening,” she grinned at him, the little gap toothed smile familiar but sitting very differently in a face that looked convinced it could rule the world or at very least the boy in front of her. He looked good. She was more than willing to tell him he looked good. But she wanted to let him go first, and to enjoy, just for a moment, the effect she had on him.

OOC: Zara's dress. Hers is possibly a less pinky base colour.

13 Zara Jackson Who needs a tiara when you have a crown? 1444 0 5

Felipe De Matteo

April 17, 2020 11:30 PM

Oh to be but a jester in your court, Milady. by Felipe De Matteo

Just before they hit the floor, Felipe remembered to catch his eyeballs after they fell out of his head and pick up his jaw. Any doubts that he had ever had as to whether Zara would have been suited to life in Ciudad de Matteo were solidified; she was much too good for a place like that. Lords of greater realms than his own home estate should bow before the goddess that was his date tonight.

She was always beautiful and Felipe had always known that, if not consciously, but her beauty was the sort of understated, easy beauty of a good heart coming out in her face and the way she carried herself. Tonight, it was more than that. The sunshine that Zara carried with her wherever she went had erupted in golden rays of light that sprang from all over, but Felipe wasn't worried about a sunburn; he was just lucky to have found his way out from behind a cloud.

Of course, she was still utterly terrifying. Whatever Felipe had managed to accumulate in terms of grace, poise, or a regal bearing, Zara put to shame. Sure, he'd been trained to run a small estate and serve over his people, but Zara didn't need training. She could walk into the government buildings of pick-a-country and they would get out of the way to let her do the job she was clearly meant to do. She was fierce and dazzling and capable of anything she wanted.

And Felipe was a potato. Well, that wasn't really fair to potatoes. He certainly felt like a sort of scuzzy ball of not-good-enough, though. How could he possibly have gotten so lucky as to have found a friend like Zara? At this point, he had to believe she was pitying him by accepting his invitation to be his date. His hair was a mess now, and he was wearing a bowtie. A bowtie. Zara was perfect and Felipe was a potato.

He was glad that it took some time for her to cross from where she entered to where he was standing because it gave him time to think of appropriate words to say what he was thinking. Whether they'd come out or not . . .

He bowed a little, as was appropriate for an escort for an occasion such as this, and then stood, not sure whether he wanted to offer one arm as her date or two arms for a hug. Or just stand back and stare. Except that was rude, so he offered a sheepish smile that would hopefully make up for the flush that insisted upon showing itself on his cheeks. He felt warm all over and was suddenly irritated about the whole bowtie thing for a number of reasons. Had it been this hot in here the whole time? Dear Lord, don't let him turn into a sweaty potato.

"You are beautiful like the sun," he murmured. That was entirely not what he meant to say. "You look incredible," he tried again, "and it's really really good to see you. And also thank you for coming with me."

22 Felipe De Matteo Oh to be but a jester in your court, Milady. 1434 0 5

Zara Jackson

April 18, 2020 12:45 AM

I think I'd allow that by Zara Jackson

Yup. There was the look. The one she’d been hoping to get. She had noticed she occasionally had the effect on Felipe of making it look like his brain had just short-circuited. She wasn’t sure whether it was wrong to enjoy it but she definitely did. He bowed to her, in a very gentlemanly manner, and seemed to have recovered the power of speech by the time he was done with that. Beautiful like the sun. Dang. That would do nicely.

“Thank you,” she smiled, her smile a little softer than usual, clearly flattered but also confident that she deserved the flattery. Happy, but not surprised. She dropped a little curtsy, or at least the best impression she could do of one, even though it probably lacked a lot of technical points.

“I’m glad to be your date,” she stated as he thanked her for coming with him, reminding him of her feelings on the matter but also taking a moment to enjoy emphasising that last word and seeing what it would do to him. “And I like your bowtie,” she added, reaching out to tweak the ends of it. This was not a lie. There was something about putting on all these beautiful clothes and being the best, silliest, showiest versions of themselves they could be…And it didn’t feel like an act. Felipe was still Felipe, and she was definitely still herself. But like… version 10.0. Even if he was giving off ‘I grew up with an estate’ vibes to the max. It was true. He had. It was part of him. And it made him able to pull off bowties and bows like nothing else. Those suited him. He had all the upper class charm and none of the stuffiness. It was a very good combination. “Shall we go be ever so fancy people?” she asked with a laugh, her hands still resting on his lapels, finding that they were more than comfortable there.

13 Zara Jackson I think I'd allow that 1444 0 5

Felipe De Matteo

April 18, 2020 1:05 AM

It's an honor. by Felipe De Matteo

Felipe's mouth twitched into a smile at Zara's curtsy. It was sweet to see her making strides into his world as much as he tried to make strides into hers. It also amused him tremendously to think of all the stuffy young ladies who would have been appalled by Zara's curtsy whilst simultaneously being put to shame by her beauty and confidence.

He blushed a little again at the emphasis on the word date, but it was more comfortable now. Now, he was with Zara. "And adventure buddy," he reminded her, thinking of the first time they'd really talked. If he'd known what that one class would do to him...

Zara got closer then and Felipe was momentarily concerned she would be able to feel his heart stopping behind that silly bowtie he was now very glad to have worn. He didn't even care that much that she liked it, although that was a perk. He just cared that it seemed to draw her in, which was not a thing he had anticipated wanting, let alone happening.

She was very very close. His head felt all full of warmth and funny urges, like how he sort of wanted to wrap his arms around her and... Do what? He didn't think he was suddenly craving a hug, but he wasn't exactly not craving a hug. It was the feeling when a lightning storm gets close and all your skin gets prickly, except seated deep inside his chest, his stomach, and... Well other things were less important to think about.

He smiled softly at his best friend in the world, and his date, and couldn't help looking at her a little too long. Her eyes were Zara's eyes, and those were his favorite. He couldn't help that his own gaze seemed to flash to her mouth, and that his heart seemed to start up again with all the force of a steam engine. It made sense now why people called others "charming," as he felt utterly under her enchantment. And she was so close. Like inches away from a thing he was pretty sure he was supposed to discuss with someone before just going for.

Not wanting to pull away though, he moved his own hands up to hers, trying not to be distracted by where his fingers brushed her arms - get it together, Felipe, you've touched arms before - and cupped them together. "Let's," he agreed, pausing for just another heartbeat with his eyes on her face before moving her hands to his arm and turning to stand by her side, the proudest, happiest, luckiest guy in the school.

22 Felipe De Matteo It's an honor. 1434 Felipe De Matteo 0 5

Brett Newell

April 18, 2020 8:00 AM

When a hand is not just a hand [Eden] by Brett Newell

“So,” asked Dustin, “Brett, have you thought about the ball yet? Do you know who you’ll be asking?”

Brett, still deep in the occasion’s meal, coughed and sputtered slightly, narrowly avoiding choking. “Well, I-I… I guess I’ve thought about it, maybe. But I don’t know.” He had been thinking about asking Eden Manger, his yearmate in Teppenpaw. He liked her long blonde hair, and she was really, really good at Quidditch...

***

Brett stared deep into the mirror, but he was hardly examining his reflection, mindless hands tying and retying his necktie without thought. He couldn’t help but look back on the previous time he had gotten all fancied up to escort Eden to a ball. They had been so young then, and his older brother had absolutely not approved. He really hadn’t known her very well, but Brett knew then how beautiful she was. So many things had changed since then that it felt like mountains had shifted, but that had never changed.

It was still so odd, being on his own this year. A part of him had never fully adjusted to being Sonora’s only Newell, without his sister. Flo had been his best friend for so long. They were so close. And of course he had Eden now, but he missed Florence terribly, and he knew things would never again be the same. She was soaking in academia, majoring in magical neuroscience, and Brett was… well, he was just Brett. His father had managed to line up an internship with a low level politician for him after graduation, but he knew he was ill-suited, and he was already climbing uphill showing up with a name like Newell in the magical political environment.

But he tried not to think about it too hard. He didn’t have time to work off the thoughts, so he just straightened his tie again, his best attempt thus far, and gave his reflection an actual inspection. The Pecari had done his best to straighten up his messy brown curls, but his hair, as ever, had a mind of its own. But his grey suit was well-tailored, and he had to admit, he liked the sky blue tie, a color Eden had charmed it to, matching a dress he had yet to see on her. Everything was going to be okay, and tonight was just the start of it all. Their Sonora days were winding down, but it was not the end.

He was a little early to arrive at their agreed upon meeting place outside the Cascade Hall, and he watched other students go by. Brett didn’t have the knowledge base to truly appreciate the fashion, but he did smile and give a few compliments. Everybody looked really nice, in his uneducated opinion.

None of them mattered or even existed, though, when Eden came into sight. God, she was a vision. A wave of blue, crashing into him all at once. His eyes flicked to the rose gold chains draping over her collar bones, the rose gold bracelets she wore on both wrists, and he wore a crooked smile, pleased and relieved. Brett shifted his posture. The box in his pocket shifted.

“Ready?” she grinned, extending a well manicured hand. He took it in his and let her lead the way.

There was no one else there. Okay, that wasn’t literally correct, because the whole school was there, but as far as Brett could tell, there was no one else there. He twirled her through the opening dance just to watch her spin, her laugh echoing through the room, both of them so fully in the moment and hardly even aware of the show they made. He didn’t care. It was perfect.

Brett technically led the dancing, but Eden led the night. Their hands together, she pulled him: here to the photographer, there to say hello to Ruby Brockert, here to get a drink, there to greet another classmate, and back out to the dance floor. Eden was not raised in pureblood circles, but she was a socialite, and she knew how to work a room. And this room, she absolutely owned.

The night was (somehow) about halfway over by now, and Brett was on a high. Everything was going so perfectly. He and Eden sat in two chairs out of the way, and he couldn’t stop looking at her. “What?” she asked, noticing his gaze, her free hand reaching up to touch her hair. “Is my hair okay?”

“Perfect,” he said, smitten. “Your hair is perfect. You are perfect. Eden, this night… everything here is just right. Don’t you feel it?” And without his brain directing him, Brett let go of her hand. He needed it to slip into his pocket and pull out a black velvet box as he slid from the chair and onto his knee. “Eden Manger, w-would you… Would you marry me?”

OOC: Godmodding of Eden approved by her author. It's me. I'm her author.

12 Brett Newell When a hand is not just a hand [Eden] 384 0 5

Jessica Hayles

April 18, 2020 8:25 AM

I came tonight to put my work on display. by Jessica Hayles

An eighth-grade formal was not, on the whole, a particularly significant event, but Jessica had nevertheless become quite excited about it. For once, at least, she would get to be in true public in something she actually looked nice in, and hold court with her friends too, with any luck at all. It was actually possible there was a school-sanctioned event she would enjoy.

As expected, her mother had already had her a dress picked out, and as usual, it had been a brilliant choice. Jessica distinctly remembered saying "oh, Mama!" in delight when it was unveiled, and rushing to try it on for the final adjustments. The body was a strapless, very light pink cocktail dress with a fit-and-flare skirt and a hem just below the knee. Over this body was a chiffon crepe in the same color, only it was streaked with subtle patches of yellow and blue embroidery, suggesting an abstract pattern of flower petals or butterflies. This overlay at the top of the dress extended up beyond the shell, creating a more modest bateau neckline and cap sleeves for the dress. Jessica had been twirling in this, enjoying watching her skirt spin, when her mother had revealed what to Rosalie was no doubt the crown jewel of the ensemble: a pair of brand new Louboutin Sandale du Desert sandals, thin strips of beige leather on stiletto heels which would have looked quite unremarkable had they not been kept on the foot by wide ribbons that tied around the ankle. The ribbons on this pair were a slightly paler pink than Jessica's dress, and tied on, they were reminiscent of the ballerina shoes she'd always secretly longed for as a child, despite having no time for ballet lessons.

Before Jessica had even had time to recover from her delight over the prettiness, or how Mommy had bought a pair of Louboutins and given them to Jessica, Mommy had presented her with the jewelry she and Daddy had picked out to go with the outfit: sapphire drop earrings, a sapphire and diamond ring, and an eighteen-karat white gold headband adorned with sapphire and diamond flowers. They had thought, Mommy had explained, that the dark color of the sapphires contrasted just so with the pink, while still maintaining a sort of theme of spring-summer colors. Jessica had gaped for a moment, then tried to hug both parents at once, to their amusement and mild discomfort.

She had spent three days sleeping with her hair in rollers and setting lotions, tolerating the slightly stuffy noses this gave her when she woke up, and as a consequence, she was at least able to wrangle her hair into a configuration which looked more formal than normal: half-up and half down, with the down parts in a mass of smooth curls to her shoulders while the up part was emphasized (and partially held up) by the gold and sapphire headband. Her parents had still vetoed full foundation, but she had made use of everything else at her disposal: the tinted moisturizer to even her skin tone, blusher and a touch of eyeliner since it was a party, mascara and shimmery eyeshadows. As an indulgence, her mother had let her wear real lipstick instead of gloss. She felt beautiful, proud, happy even, as she strolled down to the Cascade Hall on her own, relying on no escorts.

The one change she had made to the selections her parents had made concerned necklaces. Her parents hadn't included one with the outfit, so Jessica had fastened on the Edwardian lavaliere her grandparents had given her as a welcome-home gift after her first year at Sonora - a delicate chain which supported plique-a-jour enamel ivy leaves of green and light yellow, translucent in the right light, above a single dangling natural pearl. As she took a seat, carefully arranging her skirt, she realized why this might have been a bad idea. It was tempting to fiddle with it, and even had such things not been threats to both such an old necklace and to Jessica's nail polish, they would have been beneath her dignity. Fairytale princesses did not fidget.

Finally, though, things got moving, and fairytale princesses could allow themselves a slight breath of relief, through the nose only. Jessica stood, heading for the refreshments, hoping to find someone to drag back to her table. She would of course have to get a picture of herself alone for her parents, but it would be fun to do that kind of thing with girlfriends, too. As she ladled punch into a cup, she thought someone spoke to her and she turned to see, smile prepared to rise into place as soon as necessary.

OOC: Jessica's dress is based on this one , with several changes - Jessica's has a full overlay instead of partial, and a bateau neck is wider and slightly lower than the crew neck shown in the picture. The sapphire headband, of all things, also exists, as do the specific shoes described.

16 Jessica Hayles I came tonight to put my work on display. 1442 Jessica Hayles 0 5

Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

April 18, 2020 5:40 PM

You're dancing. [Tabitha] by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

This had by far been one of the hardest school years for Mary so far. At first, it had been Tabitha's distance and stress. Then, it was Dorian's plights which weighed so heavily on Mary's heart. As the year went on, it was a lot of little things that all added up to a very tired, very stressed Mary. Except, she wasn't one to hold on to such things. Instead, she curled her hair, donned a fabulous shade of lipstick that made her feel strong and powerful, and found a fancy dress. It was a saturated minty green, with black polka dots. Still, it was very much in Mary's style, with a frilly collar and sleeves, and Gothic-style clasps in the front. She actually set aside her signature pointed hat for the night, preferring not to worry about it being knocked off or falling off. The brim of her hat was typically around shoulder level for a lot of the folks at Sonora, and the risk just didn't make sense for an event like this.

Mary made extra sure to take care of Tabitha. That was her primary goal in life, and one she hadn't realized meant so much to her until recently. She'd always known she loved the woman, of course, but when she'd made the connection that Tabitha was exhausted more than anything, she realized that without a doubt, she would leave everything else behind for her. She loved her job and she loved her students, and she thought that she was probably doing the world a greater good by teaching but that wasn't the only thing she needed to think about. And Tabitha was her world anyway.

The Ball was the culmination of a lot of beautiful things and that made a big difference for Mary. Flowers and fancy spreads and fancy people; this was the sort of thing that Mary loved. She particularly loved that, at Sonora, these affairs were friendly and fun. She hadn't yet gotten to see one of their Balls, but it was already world's better than anything Tabitha's family would have hosted.

Mary arrived before the students, as the staff were finishing the final touches. Tabitha was already there, and Mary approached with a warm smile. "My beautiful wife," Mary said, finding that Tabitha was the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. She took Tabitha's wrist and tied a corsage there. Cheerful roses boasted their beauty among sprigs of mint, two of the ingredients required for a love potion, and a darned pretty smell even if Tabitha didn't recognize the combination. Mary had also added a bit of jasmine, since she was pretty sure that's what Tabitha would smell from amortentia anyway: the scent of her own wife.

"Can I have this dance?" she asked playfully. There was no music. There was no moment. And there really was no question, as Mary pulled Tabitha's hand and drew her into a dancing embrace.

22 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne You're dancing. [Tabitha] 1424 0 5

Eden Manger

April 18, 2020 6:07 PM

So why did you let go? by Eden Manger

He dropped her hand.

Eden wouldn’t have thought much of it if the lingering touch hadn’t been so wonderful. Everything thus far this evening was simply splendid. She felt beautiful and powerful, and the night felt immortal, like she could live in this moment forever. She and Brett were a unit, a painting, frozen in time forever, together just as they were. Just as they were. Just as-

But he dropped her hand and slid away from her, and as Brett positioned himself on the floor, her stomach dropped. His hand went into his pocket and came back with a box. He opened the box. There was a ring in the box.

And he was talking. He was saying silly words that he shouldn’t be saying. Marry him? Eden’s prior frozen bliss turned instantly into horrendous paralysis. She couldn’t move, stuck with fear and the screaming wish that this was all a bad dream. The evening had been going so perfectly - why did Brett have to go and ruin it like this?

The Teppenpaw had feared this moment would come, but he hadn’t actually signaled its approach, so she had somewhat convinced herself that she was being paranoid. Young marriages were not uncommon with people from families like the Newells. But Eden wasn’t like that. Eden didn’t want that. Good lord, she was barely eighteen!

Her mouth couldn’t form the answer she knew she had to give, and instead, in a panic, she said, “I, uh… I have to go to the bathroom. I’m sorry.” Eden bolted to her feet and ran, nearly tripping over Brett in the process. She did not look back, and she did not go toward the bathroom. Eden just fled the Cascade Hall in a dead sprint.

12 Eden Manger So why did you let go? 385 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 18, 2020 6:18 PM

At your service, Miss Brockert. (Ivy) by Nathaniel Mordue

It had been so long since Nathaniel had danced that for one fleeting moment, he had wondered if he would remember how. Last summer, after all, his attempts at reentering Society had just forced him into more and more contact with the medical system after he had nearly fainted in the middle of a party at which there hadn't even been dancing; his aunt and uncle had not seemed keen to drag him out to even more formal occasions after that, and he had not been keen to go, so their interests, for once, had neatly dovetailed. Uncle Alexander and Aunt Avery had doubtless been unamused by the inevitable whispers (Nathaniel had not heard them himself, but he could imagine the tone of it all - that he had inherited poor health from his mother's family, that it was such a shame for Avery and Alexander, getting shut of one semi-invalid just to acquire another, and so on), but speculative whispers were generally better than ones about things that actually happened, so...it had been a long time.

Muscle memory, however, had not abandoned him altogether, and so he thought he had managed a tolerable first dance. He had acquired a partner almost at the last minute, with both parties fully aware of the convenience factor of the arrangement, though Nathaniel had put forth the effort to try to be charming and complimentary toward the Head Girl just the same. They were, after all, on friendly terms from work on the paper over the years, aside from both being from families where it was customary to be as polite and procedural as possible with anyone who was not actually an intimate or an enemy. There was no need to acknowledge something just because it was true. Just look at his dress robes. He rather disliked them - Aunt Avery's taste was as plain to him as if the dark blue robes had had her handwriting all over them; his mother, he was irrationally sure, would have selected different dress robes, had she been allowed - but he did not need to say so, and suspected, in fact, that he was not allowed to say so.

He was grateful to stop dancing, but that was another true thing that didn't need to be acknowledged. He looked at Ivy, however, before getting his hopes too far up about things. He was, after all, her servant for the night, or at least until such time as she chose to dismiss him. "I hope I didn't step on your feet too much," he said with a self-deprecating smile. "It's been quite a while since I've danced, so thank you for putting up with me." That, he thought even as he said it, was going too far, abdicating too much of what little dignity he had. He quickly added, "Would you like to dance more, or get refreshments?"

16 Nathaniel Mordue At your service, Miss Brockert. (Ivy) 1412 0 5

Isis Carter-Xavier

April 18, 2020 6:24 PM

Just checking in by Isis Carter-Xavier

“Nathan, have you noticed any changes in my waistline?” It wasn’t meant to be a trap, but realizing immediately after it left her mouth, Isis added, “Don’t answer that.” She was getting ready for the school’s Midsummer Ball and had made a rather unhappy discovery. Rather frugal, Isis had no intentions on buying a new outfit for the occasion, so she dug out the romper she had worn to the last one. She was, however, surprised to discover that she just couldn’t quite fit into it.

That made sense, she supposed. She had, after all, carried to term and given birth to a human child in the time since then. But last time, Isis couldn’t help but note, she couldn’t recall having this issue. Of course, her first pregnancy had been during her teenage years, and perhaps she had just been more springy and resilient. That thought launched its own crisis: Am I old now?

Her thirties were a more reasonable time to be reproducing, but the thought could not quite be shaken. Was this a symptom of her old age? Of course, she didn’t feel right asking Nathan if she was old, given that she was a good number of years Nathan’s junior, but she couldn’t help but wonder how obvious the shift in her body had been. Hence the question she immediately took back. “Whatever,” she grumbled in the direction of the offending clothing item. She aimed her wand and wordlessly expanded the romper. She would deal with this crisis later.

As the ball went on, Isis felt her mood improve, and by midway through the evening, she had completely forgotten her earlier plight, at least temporarily. The event was going well, and Isis tended to consider most things that went well to be a temporary state, and as such, she kept a somewhat paranoid eye on things, vigilant in her pessimism. And lo and behold, her instincts were correct, as she saw Eden Manger literally run out of the room on the verge of tears. Her eyes tracked Eden’s exit point, and Isis saw Brett Newell kneeling, alone and bewildered.

“Why is it always ours?” she asked rhetorically as she turned to her husband. Isis, Head of Pecari, tugged gently on the sleeve belonging to the Head of Teppenpaw. “Eden just ran out of here,” she sighed. “You’d probably better go.” She glanced again at Brett, who had yet to move. “I guess I’ll check on her date. Here, I’ll take Dora.”

With her young daughter in tow (and Dora was, by the way, looking very adorable in her little dress, thank you very much), Isis crossed over. “Brett?” she said softly. “Is, ah… is everything alright?” She had a feeling she knew the answer. Isis couldn’t help noticing the box and ring in his hands, but she tried to remain neutral in her expression.

12 Isis Carter-Xavier Just checking in 31 0 5

Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne

April 18, 2020 6:26 PM

I am no longer getting a say in anything, am I? by Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne

Tabitha had never been the biggest fan of balls. Having been subjected to enough of the affairs throughout her younger years, she had grown to dislike them. The conversations were often dull, the music dreary and despite the food always being the best of the best, she had never been allowed to eat enough of it to enjoy it. They had been a pain and now, as an adult, she avoided them whenever she could.

The Sonora Ball was different, of course. This wasn't for anybody's birthday or engagement or to impress anybody. This was for the students, a chance to finally relax after a year of schooling. Tabitha wasn't even really a guest, technically. She was there as a teacher, to supervise. It was lucky, really, that she had married a teacher and they both worked at the same school. Supervising alone was boring. Supervising with Mary was sure to make the whole task much more interesting and fun.

If Tabitha was honest with herself (something that, admittedly, she hadn't been doing a whole lot of lately), it was probably a good thing that she didn't really have to partake in the festivities apart from stand in a corner somewhere and make sure nobody spiked anything. It had been a long year, an exhausting year. The last couple of months had been difficult in particular, her lack of sleep and skipping of meals making her weaker. It was only thanks to Mary intervening and forcing her to sleep (whether by confining Tabitha to their chambers or by giving her Sleeping Draught) and eat that Tabitha was in attendance at all. It was a struggle for Tabitha, to give up control, to let somebody else have complete say over everything but her wife really hadn't given her any choice at all.

In fairness to Mary, Tabitha felt a little more normal, a little more human. She looked okay, first of all, better than she had been. A little makeup under her eyes successfully hid the fading circles and Tabitha had put on some very red lipstick in an attempt to feel more like the powerful, dangerous witch she used to be. It complimented her chosen jumpsuit for the evening which was the same shade of red and a thin black belt was buckled around her waist. To keep her warm, she wore a long black coat that had gold stars enchanted to fall down the fabric. She had straightened her hair and had a golden dragon cuff pierced through her right ear. Tabitha didn't feel like herself but at least she would certainly look it.

She'd arrived before Mary and was just finishing adjusting some chairs in one section of the Hall when her wife appeared and she smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Mary's cheek. "You look far more lovelier than I," she complimented her and smiled, touched at the corsage. It was gorgeous and smelled delightful and reminded Tabitha so completely of Mary. It was just perfect.

"I didn't get you anything," Tabitha then murmured apologetically. She hadn't really had the time or the chance given that she'd been confined to her bed. "I'll get you something," she then promised, feeling guilty.

Tabitha was amused by the request for a dance but, given her recent lessons in listening to her wife, obliged and let herself be pulled into a dance to no music. As she held Mary close, she murmured, "Thank you for looking after me."

20 Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne I am no longer getting a say in anything, am I? 1417 Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne 0 5

Jasmine Delachene

April 18, 2020 7:25 PM

There'll be music, there'll be light [Tag: Gary] by Jasmine Delachene

It was finally here! The day of the ball was finally here! Jasmine had been preparing for and anticipating this for literally the whole year. She had the perfect dress - a beautiful blue Cinderella gown (not the actual one from the movie) with lots of tulle and glimmering constellations and even a few charmed images of shooting stars floating about in its depths. The bodice had come a little bland and simple, in her opinion, but she'd added a bit more shimmer to it with a pretty simple glitter charm, and it sparkled just as nicely as her skirts now. The sleeves were made of nice big ruffles that overshadowed her breast and made it much less obvious that she did not have a lot of natural curve in that area.

She was accessorized with the sapphire necklace and bracelet they had de-cursed in DADA. The two pieces were perhaps not the most fancy or expensive of jewelry on show in the Cascade Hall tonight, but she and Gary had worked together to make them safe to use so it seemed kind of rude not to wear them, so she was. Besides, they were cute and went well with the dress. She liked them.

Topping it off, she wore her hair in a lovely up-do, with her favorite tiara adding just the right princess-y touch. She'd paid a galleon to the girl doing the make-up consultation to get the best colors to go with everything else, but was confident enough in her make-up application skills that she didn't need the tutorial on how to use them.

Her shoes were heels, charmed for comfort, but giving her about two inches more height than she normally had. She'd been wearing them to her dance practices with Gary, Peyton, and Conner, both so Gary wouldn't get confused by her suddenly being taller on the day of the ball, and so she could makes sure she was going to be comfortable and graceful wearing them. They were working out great.

She came down the stairs into the hall outside the Cascade Hall, feeling like there really ought to be more cameras about, but Gary was there to see her at least, waiting just where she'd told him to be, so she smiled at him and . . . descended. She felt glorious.

He looked good, too, wearing the robes she'd picked out and owled to him over midterm. If she'd guessed his size wrong, he'd had the good sense to get them properly tailored before now.

She glided across the foyer to stand beside him. She'd instructed him in how to offer an arm, though they'd never practiced the maneuver when her skirts were quite this full before. She smiled happily at him and gave him a moment to appreciate her efforts, and yes, there, he did remember.

She accepted the offered arm graciously, the tulle accommodating the closeness without too much trouble (it was, after all, mostly all air), and she beamed at her date, having never felt so happy as this moment. "Shall we go to our ball?" she inquired.

OOC: Dress

1 Jasmine Delachene There'll be music, there'll be light [Tag: Gary] 1397 0 5

Dorian Montoir

April 18, 2020 8:31 PM

This is perfect by Dorian Montoir

Dorian tried to tune out the rest of the group of people around him. There was every possibility they were too focussed on their own issues - their own dates, their happiness, their nerves at dancing in front of the school - to care about what he was doing and who he was with. Some of them probably didn’t approve, some of them probably didn’t care. He was trying not to let it matter to him because right now, he had everything he wanted. He was, of course, confining ‘right now’ to a very small bubble of time and space. One that extended only far enough to include the person next to him in its confines (plus several people in the hall) and which extended for only the length of this evening. Tomorrow was going to be hard. On the other side of this, there were summers and families and consequences to their actions. But tonight, they had each other, and that was more than he had been able to hope for a few weeks ago.

The first moment that he had seen Jean-Loup on Sonora’s campus had been… surreal, and he hadn’t been able to have his heart leap with happiness about it because it had been so obvious that something was wrong. But that had been two weeks ago. Things had settled, slightly, and at the very least Jean-Loup’s face would be familiar enough to the students of Sonora by now that no one would be surprised to see him there, even if they had not yet fully understood who he was or how he’d got here. It had been announced, of course, at breakfast one day, that there was an intern working with the medic and working on his English during the last couple of weeks of term. Dorian wasn’t sure how many people had accepted this at face value versus gossiping wildly about it.

He shared a glance with his boyfriend, as they heard the announcement for the prefects, head students and their dates. Dorian squeezed Jean-Loup’s hand to say ‘that’s us,’ giving him a smile that was a mixture of nerves and happiness, and receiving the same in return.

And then they were on the dance floor. Dorian had not shared with Jean-Loup that he’d had several horrible dreams where everyone booed or turned their backs. It wasn’t going to happen. Tatya wouldn’t do that to him. Vlad wouldn’t do that to him. The Professors Brooding-Hawthorne and Mr. Row would not do that to them. And if anyone wanted to be petty and do that, or anything else, he was pretty sure they would be silenced or warded or whatever it took for it not to affect Dorian. And he wasn’t going to see because it wasn’t like he was looking anywhere except up at the beautiful green eyes that were looking back lovingly at him.

They had practised dancing together a few times, happily having the realisation before the ball that - although they both knew perfectly well how to dance - they both only knew how to lead. There had been a brief debate over which way that should go, given that it was Dorian who was the prefect and it was his school really but given their heights, it only really made sense for Jean-Loup to.

The music started, and they fell into step. Dorian had spent plenty of time teaching Émilie, calling her steps out loud whilst doing his own, so he was perfectly familiar with what they were. Now he just had to make his feet do what his brain was calling out, instead of their usual opposite.

It was not the smoothest or most elegant his dancing had ever been, but it was the best.

By the end of the dance everything just felt so warm, so soft and relaxed - he thought he and Jean-Loup might have both melted slightly so that they were now just stuck together. He certainly had no objection to the thought of spending the rest of the night, or the rest of his life, with their arms around each other. But the song ended, and he felt reality rushing back in, as with noise and chatter, everyone else burst into being free to do what they wanted.

Dorian dropped the dance hold, though didn’t remove his hands from Jean-Loup’s arms completely. The bustling energy of the hall reminded him that he had friends and other people he should be checking in with. He possibly would have put that off for a couple more dances, but their nerves had also made both of them thirsty, and so they headed to the refreshment table first, still hand in hand. They were juggling cups, working out how to fill two without letting go of each other, when someone else approached.

13 Dorian Montoir This is perfect 1401 0 5

Gary Harper

April 18, 2020 8:46 PM

We'll be dancing through the night. by Gary Harper

It was time. 'May the deities of the multiverse have mercy upon me.' Gary thought to himself as he stared into the mirror in his room. So much had been building up to the moment, and it had finally arrived. He was so nervous he was physically trembling. He grabbed onto the dresser and tried to force his nerves back down. "Get a grip," he muttered to himself, "You've just got a date with the best looking girl in the school, she is a princess and she deserves better than this."

His image looked uncertainly back at him from the mirror. He was wearing the robes Jasmine had picked out for him. There had been a few tweaks he had needed to make them fit right, but even so, they just didn't look... right. This was supposed to be a special night, and it had to be perfect for Jasmine. At the moment, he wasn't. She was a princess and she needed a prince. He was no prince. Why had she said yes? Did... did she see something in him that he didn't? Was that possible? Could he be a prince for her?

Maybe? He let go of the dresser and looked good and hard at the image in the mirror. He stood up a little straighter and put his shoulders back. Maybe. He picked up the comb that he had tossed aside earlier in frustration. With an extra charm or two the comb finally did it's job and tamed the wild mass of hair on his head. Just maybe. He smirked as a thought crossed his mind, why not? He may as well be a proper charming prince.

In a moment he had dug out two of his smaller notebooks, and with a few transfiguring waves of his wand, he had a golden epaulet attached to each shoulder with a gold cord draped between them across his chest. Yes, that was better. He would be a prince, for his princess. She deserved no less. He picked up the corsage he had bought for her and headed off to meet his destiny.

Good, he made it to the hall first, keeping her waiting would have been disastrous. He watched the other students coming, nodding greeting to the few he knew, always keeping a close eye out for Jasmine. Then he saw her, at the top of the stairs. She was a princess! He immediately realigned his posture again as she spotted him. Then she smiled! He couldn't do more than stare at her as she floated down the stairs as gracefully as an angel.

It was everything he could do to tear his eyes away from her, but he was afraid his appreciative observation was degrading into gawking. "You are gorgeous," he complimented as he offered his arm to her, "and I was right, the jewelry looks much better on you." he added playfully. Good thing they had practiced proper protocol. She took his arm and drew in close, her skirts flowing around them. She even smelled wonderful. How had he...? No. He was her prince. That is all that mattered.

"Yes we shall, but first..." he offered her the small arrangement of flowers. Thankfully the flower people had deduced correctly the colors the flowers should be based off of what he could tell them of the colors of his outfit and some of the jewelry he had hoped she would be wearing.

2 Gary Harper We'll be dancing through the night. 1404 0 5

Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

April 18, 2020 11:19 PM

Not tonight. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary looked Tabitha up and down slowly and deliberately, trying not to make any faces that would get her fired while also making her point very clear to the intended recipient. "I wouldn't say you didn't get me anything," she breathed through a smirk. "Besides, the night is young," she added, biting her lip.

Being close to Tabitha was lovely, and Mary was glad again that she'd chosen not to wear her hat. She would have felt a bit silly trying to lean away from just to not whack the taller of the two in the face with it. At their wedding, she'd removed her hat for their first dance and held it in her hands behind Tabitha's back. That seemed a bit too close for dancing in front of the students - or staff for that matter - and she preferred to be a little more polite than that. A friendly, open, inclusive workplace didn't mean they wanted people to do the fricklefrackles on the dance floor, whether they were a lovely pair of lesbian witches or whoever Headmaster Brockert might be inclined to dance with.

"That's what partners do," she smiled, glad to be appreciated even if she dismissed the compliment itself. "Also, I like looking after you." Looking up at Tabitha as she said it, she thought about how it was as much their stature as their personalities that had put Tabitha in the role of protector all this time. Mary was happy to take her turn, even if it looked a bit different when Mary did it. "I was going to wait, but I know how you are about surprises," she began, really desperately hoping that she wasn't about to ruin the rest of the night. "I've made all the arrangements for us to spend the summer in Greece this year. We can enjoy the beach, get some true, to-the-bone relaxation, and I'm sure Darius will challenge you to one or a dozen duels while we're there. Good mix of rest and adventure, I thought." Her expression had turned into something a little more nervous. "Does that sound alright?"

22 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne Not tonight. 1424 0 5

Jezebel Reed-Fischer

April 18, 2020 11:38 PM

This is confusing. by Jezebel Reed-Fischer

Jezebel wore something simple. It was comfortable, easy, and not that exciting. But . . . it sort of was, too. She was going to the Ball with Josie and Bridget, unless something had changed, and she was surprised to find that she really did care a lot about what they thought of her. Josie always seemed to think she was amazing, and Bridget sincerely wanted to hang out, and that was the best feeling. She just wished . . . well, she wished she had something more exciting than her off-the-shoulder blue dress. It was nice enough, and she was grateful for to her parents for buying it for her, but the Ball itself just wasn't that exciting somehow.

She arrived with little fanfare as folks around her met their dates, greeted each other with coos and giggles, and friends found places to talk - read: gossip - that weren't too close to eavesdroppers. The prefects were starting the dances, which seemed like a lot of pressure, and Jezebel wasn't particularly interested until she saw two boys dancing together. The one that was a prefect looked so perfectly happy. Like nothing else existed in the world. The other boy was the one that was going to be working as a medical intern now. She had noticed that he was young, but she hadn't noticed that he was apparently dating this prefect.

And how brave! Jezebel's stomach turned and rolled. She wanted to be that kind of brave. It wasn't that these two didn't care what others thought about them, it was that they didn't seem to even think of it. The only thing in the world to consider was the person whose eyes they were gazing into, and something that was so right for them couldn't possibly be wrong to anyone else. Right?

The dance finished and Jezebel tried to focus on socialising, and on all the pretty things, but she couldn't seem to do so. She was the studious one, the one who did things right, and the one who made connections at social events like this, but here she was, entirely preoccupied with the dance of a couple happy teenagers. They were still touching as they left the dance floor, and Jezebel wondered if it was the sheer force of electricity that held them together. That didn't seem right though. Of all the things she'd seen since coming to Sonora, this was the most magical.

And then Jezebel decided she needed punch. That was a coincidence, right? She didn't mean to . . . well, she had nothing to say, right? It was just so novel to her, so of course she'd be distracted by it. It was a lot to process. Of course, they had a pair of married professors who were both women, and that was different, too, but Jezebel didn't see them together like this. Whatever life they had together was kept behind closed doors in the way that such things were meant to be.

"Hi," she said, greeting the pair - the couple - with a smile that didn't match her wide-eyed expression. "You're . . . uh . . . you are trying learning how to be a doctor?" she asked, addressing her questions to the taller of the two boys. "And learning English . . " She remembered, wondering how much he understood already. "Your dance was nice," she added to Dorian. She couldn't help it. She didn't care a lick about medicine.

22 Jezebel Reed-Fischer This is confusing. 1454 0 5

Parker Fitzgerald

April 19, 2020 6:04 AM

Shall we...? (tag Cleo) by Parker Fitzgerald

Tap. Tap. Tap. It was still there in the inside pocket of his jacket behind the button. Parker let his hands fall down to his sides and find their way into his pants pockets as he leaned against the wall outside Cascade Hall. Though he had made slight adjustments to his green suit, he had made sure that it looked good on him but also felt good on him. What was Beau’s advice “ Look Good ?”

Well Parker felt like he’d nailed that piece of advice. Parker knew others would be wearing dress robes, but the suit felt more comfortable for him and he was especially proud of the tie he’d been able to transfigure into showing flowers that were blooming around the school grounds as they all made their way into the hall. He felt like he looked very gardeny, and thus, followed his sisters advice, Be yourself .

Beau’s other piece of advice had been alarming. It had started Parker down a road that led to the potion store in Tumbleweed that day. It was there that Parker had bought some Love Potion Antidote, now resting in his jacket pocket. Parker was sure some people were confused or curious. If asked, Parker would have answered, but Parker had found that in the Wizarding world people rarely asked, they assumed.

If they had asked, Parker would have responded that he had realized that Beau was saying his advice against potioning for a reason. People, especially teenagers, would use them, and probably did. They were an easy answer to something that was hard to figure out. He also realized that tonight, especially, and the run up to tonight, would be the time and place that someone would try to use a Love Potion. Though he was sure teachers were on the lookout for signs of one being used, Parker still wanted some to be close at hand.

Parker wanted to make sure everyone would have a good time. Nothing ruined a good time like forcing people to do something they didn’t want to. Unconsciously parker’s right hand moved from his pocket and adjusted the button on his lapel. Parker looked down at his hand. Most dates gave flowers for dances, Parker chuckled. I guess since we are always around flowers, we should have something else. He smiled at the button. It worked well, like a Prefect Badge, but more specific.

He leaned back against the wall and smiled at fellow students as they made their way into the Hall. He was certain some were trying to make out what the button said, but mostly everyone seemed to be enjoying each other's fancy company. The last ball they’d had, he’d been fairly young and Parker hadn’t quite enjoyed the grandeur of it all. He knew from movies and tv shows back home that schools had dances and proms, but he was sure many of them were not in a magical Mission esq building. He took a breath. No John Jr. No Math class. Living life in a beautiful classic Spanish Style building with beautiful gardens, and soon an amazing woman was going to come and dance with him. No, this was far nicer than what his old life would have held. He took a deep breath in calmness as he waited for Cleo. No matter what, this was nicer.

41 Parker Fitzgerald Shall we...? (tag Cleo) 1402 Parker Fitzgerald 0 5

Cleo James

April 19, 2020 7:27 AM

With permission by Cleo James

Cleo’s dress for the evening was pretty simple. She had wrestled long and hard with all her decisions about this ball… On the surface of it, her thoughts possibly seemed pretty similar to those of most of her peers. Whether to go, what to wear, who to go with… Just with such different reasons underlying them.

She was more than satisfied with the answers she had found though. She had ducked out of too much of school life over the years to be absent now. The missed feasts, the withdrawal from the Head Girl ballot… She didn’t regret that. It wouldn’t have suited her - not that she would likely have been elected anyway. But this was different. She belonged here, and she had a mission - one beyond the goal of having a good time and saying goodbye to her school, though she was glad not to be losing out on those either. However much bigger her aims were that evening, it was nice to do one small, normal teenage thing before launching herself into the adult world.

Her outfit had never been something she thought would be a priority. Her world just did not revolve around dresses or her own appearance - other than trying to not be bothered by other people’s over-interest in it. She had chosen something plain and simple. A little black dress. It was the things she had added to it that she had spent a long time debating. Although, feeling buoyed by her evening with Parker in the gardens, she had added things to represent them as well as the very bold statement that represented her. Her hair was decorated with fresh flowers, much as it had been for their first ball, and she’d been sure to include some moondew. Her ears also sported big plastic sunflowers that she was sure would appal the Pureblood girls. But that was fine, because she wasn’t dressing for them, not that she ever had. The fact that Cleo might be dressed for anyone but herself was clearly rebuffed by the beauty queen style sash which stood out starkly against her dress. The one which, once the idea had come to her, she couldn’t shake, but which she had had a whole slew of doubts over wearing. It read:

Don’t Touch Without Permission.

She took her position next to Parker, smiling at his button. She had made her plans for the ball before he’d asked for a date. She knew she was semi-obliged to do the prefect dance, but it had not been her priority, once she’d decided how she wanted to spend her evening. She had thought that the two ideas - the one on her sash and the one where she spent an evening with a boy - might clash. It might not seem to make sense together, coupling that message with something as close as dancing. She hadn’t thought her plans for the evening would be something any guy would want to be associated with. She had under-estimated him.

“I like your tie,” she whispered, as they made their way into the hall together.

The dance…. The dance was probably a mess. She had watched people glide in their elegant circles around the floor before and it hadn’t looked like there was anything complicated to it. She had been wrong, and they had stumbled their way through without any real idea how to do it.

It didn’t matter though. The point had been what she had said, not how she had danced. And she was more excited about what was coming next. It had been a crazy few weeks of frantic preparation. It had involved getting permission from Professor Skies and being on a learning curve far steeper than many of her classes. Tonight’s project was quite straightforward, she supposed, but the surface she’d scratched by doing it… There was a whole, complex world out there. One that she had set herself the task of getting to grips with.

She made her way to the back of the room, where Professor Skies had let her set up prior to the ball.

”Revelio,” she cast. The table, which had been hidden during the opening dance, shimmered into existence. The surface was covered in sashes like hers and buttons like Parker’s, along with leaflets for the two organisations who their sales would go to. One that dealt with sexual assault (though did not seem to have any specific policy on veela) and one that supported veela and half-veela (though seemed vague as to how it helped with sexual assault). That was a gap to bridge, or to fill. There were internships to apply for, policy-making to learn about… She still had no idea how she actually went about doing what it was she hoped to do. But luckily, those things didn’t move with the school term. There would be time to figure it all out. And before then, perhaps she’d take some time off to relax, and perhaps grow the world’s biggest sunflower.

And before all that, there was tonight. She turned a big beaming smile to Parker.

“Looks like we’re ready, adventure buddy,” she smiled.

13 Cleo James With permission 389 0 5

Brett Newell

April 19, 2020 7:50 AM

I might be checking out. by Brett Newell

His smile, riddled with nerves but a smile nonetheless, faded quite slowly, too shocked to fully process what had transpired all at once. Eden… Eden… “Eden?” Brett finally managed to articulate, but she was already gone. He knew he saw her run, but it felt more as if she had vanished. She was here one moment, gone the next, and his mind could not interpret the middle parts. Maybe she had been taken. Maybe she had wanted to go. He did not know the answer.

Brett didn’t dare move, afraid of many things. If she had been taken, whatever force it was might well take him too at any moment. But if she had left - he seemed to recall something about a restroom? - well, he wanted to be ready when she came back with her answer. If she needed a moment to think about it, that was okay, he supposed, although what she could possibly have to think about it was entirely beyond him. He loved her so much. And she loved him, or at least, he thought she did. They had definitely said it to each other before... hadn’t they?

“Brett?” His head snapped up eagerly to the source of the sound. He knew the voice was wrong, but he was deafened by foolish hope for a moment. No, it was not his hopefully-soon-to-be fiancee. It was Professor Carter-Xavier, his Head of House, asking if everything was okay.

“O-oh, yeah,” he fumbled. While he had wanted to remain on his knee for Eden’s return, he knew now how ridiculous that had to be while talking to the professor. After all, what if Eden saw him like that and thought he was asking her to marry him? That wouldn’t do at all. Brett hastily picked himself up, snapping the ring box closed and forcing himself into a chair. “Eden just stepped out. She’ll be right back,” he added, a hope.

12 Brett Newell I might be checking out. 384 0 5

Vladimir Brockert

April 19, 2020 8:03 AM

"Running behind" [Tatiana] by Vladimir Brockert

Vlad hated dress robes. Most of them were so dull and boring. He much preferred the flair of a colorful, well-tailored suit. The dress robes his mother sent weren’t horrible - a grey material with orange detail, and an orange tie to match - but he wanted to pick out his own fashion. He didn’t know much, but he did have some strong opinions on his self-presentation. Color was quite important to him. But he didn’t feel very colorful, and he didn’t feel like fighting.

He wore the dress robes.

Honestly, he didn’t even want to go to this stupid ball. Any other time, it was the type of event he might have been excited about: flourishing decorations, extravagant attire, and a room full of his dearest friends and favorite people. But this year, someone was here who wasn’t one of them, someone who didn’t fit in and just ruined the whole thing: Jean-Loup. He was here, living at the school, spending time with Dorian. And he was going to dance the opening prefects’ dance with Dorian, his arms around him, holding him closer, closer, and twirling effortlessly, like it didn’t matter at all, like they fit.

So he arrived late.

When he entered, he scanned the dance floor cautiously, but as it was more populated than it would have been and he noticed pairs of students where neither was a prefect, Vlad determined that he was safe. He noticed Tatiana across the way (and, merrily, not with Dorian and Jean-Loup), so he went to her. “Hi,” he said, doing his best to sound his usual cheery self, falling ever so slightly short. Maybe she wouldn’t notice. But it had been six years they had been friends now, so it was not impossible that she knew him better than that. “You look really great,” he added, because it was true.

12 Vladimir Brockert "Running behind" [Tatiana] 1400 0 5

Martin Crosby V

April 19, 2020 8:20 AM

On the wrong foot [Katerina] by Martin Crosby V

Martin realized, gazing at his own reflection as he prepared for this evening’s ball, that he had in fact made several mistakes leading him to this horrendous moment in his young life. Perhaps the biggest was his final selection of a date, or perhaps it was simply his commodifying of himself that had convinced him that he required a date to prevent wastefulness, as males in this school were less than plentiful. Perhaps the biggest mistake was just his obedience to social norms and structure, or perhaps it was his decency in asking Katerina Voronstov what color she intended to wear to the ball. Regardless of the specific misstep that had led him down this dark path, Martin stared in abject horror at the young man in the mirror, so broken, so damaged.

He had to wear pink.

It wasn’t the focal point - could you imagine? He would never - but it was present nonetheless, a sparkling, bright detail on an otherwise acceptable charcoal dress robe. He just hoped Katerina was interesting enough to make this worth his dignity and his evening. Or pretty enough, anyway.

When he met up with her, he determined that her appearance was… adequate. Actually, perhaps that was a little understated. Katerina did look quite nice. So nice that it seemed to worry him slightly, as he felt a subtle increase in his pulse. He reminded himself that it was probably just makeup altering her appearance, and not that the brighter colorations were indicative of medical emergencies or issues. Martin offered his arm.

He felt quite underwhelmed by the design of the Hall, considering how much more could have been done for the decorations. It literally had a waterfall on a daily basis - they couldn’t jazz it up a bit more for a ball? It hardly mattered to him personally, but the Crotalus did feel that presentation was important, and it always surprised him - perhaps foolishly - how little it seemed to matter to everyone else.

In any case, he said nothing of it, politely watching the prefects, head students, and their dates officially welcome the rest of the school to the event. Martin was not especially showy, but he was glad there would be another ball before his time here was up. As a seventh year by then, he would most assuredly be out there, his Head Boy badge reflecting the lights brightly.

As this year’s opening dance came to its conclusion, Martin turned to his date. “May I get you a drink?” he asked, a proper gentleman in spite of it all.

12 Martin Crosby V On the wrong foot [Katerina] 1439 0 5

Lawrence Marsh

April 19, 2020 9:16 AM

Observe the Mating Dance of the Homo Sapien Magius by Lawrence Marsh

Sticking a finger down the collar of his shirt, Lawrence pulled at it a bit. The tie felt like he was being strangled by a small monkey and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Ties were one of the multitudes of reasons he’d not gone to work for the Bureaucracy after schooling and had instead chose field work. Out in the back and beyond people didn’t care what you wore, or how scruffy your beard got, or in some cases how often you showered. Inside jobs required you to focus on all those things because people cared about them.

Lawrence let out a cough and settled back into standing and watching the students dance. Then again, Lawrence though, people actually cared here. He’d now been at the school for a bit now and had recently found that felt at home within the walls. It helped that there was lots of outdoor space and animals to care for. Though that was sometimes more than he felt he could handle himself. Especially when some are sent to the school for special reasons like Susan. Thankfully though, Susan was now with a few others of her species.

In the end, it seemed, her problem had been that she was lonely. She’d been ostracized from her flock and was alone. Having problems coping. Lawrence had begun to realize that might be the case at Sonora, but it was confirmed when he moved her to a new sanctuary in Wyoming. Upon introduction to the new flock, she’d flourished once again. He'd made a note that during the summer he'd come back to study Susan and her new flock and write about their social habits, since many believed Snallygasters to be of a non-social bent. On the journey back to Sonora, Lawrence had begun feeling more lonely than ever before, and in his reptilian brain something brewed on trying to find any of his old "cures".

That is, until he realized he had a flock. It was one he’d never thought about until he had seen Sonora on the horizon as he moved south, but it was there for him to join. The school, the students, the teachers. They’d made a place for him, and he was helping young versions of himself grow into scientists or at least introduce them to the ways. Still, this many people, this close together, made him uneasy. So on that trip back he’d decided to trick his brain.

He couldn’t take it anymore and loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. At least he could swallow properly now and picked up a drink at the drink table.

As he looked out over the ball, he turned his trick on and imagined that he was watching animals in a mating dance. Trying to figure out different aspects of the animals rituals and what they all meant. Trying to keep an eye out for troubling signs. The usual, anger, aggression, a sick or drugged animal. It was relatively easy to do since he’d done work with fairly sentient creatures in his past. He looked out over the dance floor figuring out his flock and his place within it and took a sip of the drink.

41 Lawrence Marsh Observe the Mating Dance of the Homo Sapien Magius 1462 0 5

Killian Row

April 19, 2020 10:52 AM

Ew. by Killian Row

On the whole, Killian rather liked dressing up. He liked the occasions that demanded such fineries, and he liked how he looked in a suit or dress robes. He also liked that he could wear a suit, not shave, and people still thought he looked pretty dressed up. Better, even, than if he'd been clean shaven. At least he thought so.

The only thing he didn't particularly like about such occasions was the incessant pressure to attend in pairs - or triads, he assumed, although that seemed unlikely at Sonora - and he just didn't want to. For one, it seemed like a stretch to limit his social interactions for the night to the company of one person. Even if he really liked that person, he doubted he'd want the entirety of his mingling to be in context of his couple-ness Plus, how could you just pick one person? Everyone Killian knew at Sonora was wonderful and beautiful or handsome as the case may be; without anything really to go by, Killian could hardly imagine choosing one person to be his partner.

So he went "stag" as they say. He clapped and cheered for the prefects and head students - both to celebrate their happy faces and encourage away their nervous faces - and he about had his heart explode to see Jean-Loup and Dorian dancing together. He suspected he'd really had very little to do with everything Dorian had become, or Jean-Loup for that matter, and made a mental note to thank some of the other professors on staff sometime for their part, but he couldn't help feeling a little proud. Even if he was just some moss on one of the stepping stones to get to this point, it was an absolute pleasure and honor to see it happen.

He wasn't the only one who was standing alone when all was said and done, though, and he attended the drink table for himself as well as for the company of the professor standing there. Lawrence Marsh wasn't someone Killian had talked to much - he hadn't really talked to many people much, truth be told - but he certainly was someone that Killian thought he could get on with, at least by virtue of their mutually fantastic jawlines and adorning beards. He got his own punch and then went to Lawrence's other side, out of the way of anyone else who wanted to come through.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, surveying the dance floor with Lawrence. "Humans are so funny, aren't they?"

22 Killian Row Ew. 1450 0 5

Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

April 19, 2020 11:00 AM

We look nice. [Malikhi] by Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

With the help of a very patient Mara Morales and a very smart Jessica Hayles (and vice versa), Johana Leonie actually looked kind of . . . pretty. She'd managed to de-tangle her hair (an idea she now understood in English!) and gotten it to relax into something nearly straight before clipping up the front of it. She wore the lipstick and other bits and bobs that Mara had suggested and she'd been able to afford. She wore earrings. And finally, she wore The Dress. She felt like a sugarplum fairy, although this was spring so maybe just a regular fairy. Drifts of fabric cascaded around her in rosy hues of early dawn, and the waist narrowed enough to suggest that someday she might have a figure to narrow around. She felt pretty, and she really had a lot of people to thank for that.

Including, to her surprising surprise, Friederike Albert; she really should stop being surprised by him being kind. He looked good himself, which was more reasonably surprising, and she was happy that he'd found himself a date after all. Johana Leonie suspected that it wasn't so much a date as a pretty friend to go with, but that's sort of what Johana Leonie was doing too, so it was okay. Well . . . that's basically what she was doing, right? She still wasn't sure and had decided not to think too much about it.

She arrived to Cascade Hall before Kai and greeted him before the dances had begun, just happy to see that he hadn't decided to leave her in the pumpkin patch tonight. Just once, she wanted to be a princess. And then, if it worked out, maybe not just the once.

"Hallo," she greeted him, blushing as he arrived. "You look nice." It was a phrase she'd been practicing and was pretty sure she'd gotten right.

22 Johana Leonie Zauberhexen We look nice. [Malikhi] 1432 0 5

Tatiana Vorontsova

April 19, 2020 12:08 PM

No running on the dance floor, you'll bump people. by Tatiana Vorontsova

As she sat on the sidelines of the ball's opening dance, Tatiana thought she might, for the first time in her life, really understand why the Americans thought it was good to have a false American smile on all the time. If you were just accustomed to smiling vacantly all the time for no reason, it might be easier to keep on doing it when it really was a lie.

She had thought that Dorian making up with Jean-Loup would be a good thing, in that it would make Dorian happy and make it easier for Tatiana to do things other than worry about him. It had, she had to admit, filled half that mandate. Dorian was happy. Dorian was wildly, incandescently, mindlessly happy. He was so happy, in fact, that Tatiana was still just as worried about him as she had been before, because what was he doing?

She liked Jean-Loup, but she could have killed him for this. He was the older one, the one who had sense, and was not so idealistic as her poor Dorya. He should have known better. Matthieu had attacked Dorian over a kiss. What was going to happen after - after such a public display of Dorya's difference as this? Especially if there were Matthieus hidden among their classmates. Tatiana would hex anyone who tried to hurt her frère de coeur and worry about the politics and propriety of the issue later - she had her wand up her sleeve right now just in case - but she could not be there all the time, even when they were here together, much less over the coming summer....

As the prefect dance wound down, she could see Katya staring at her, and her cheeks burned, though not for the reasons Katya probably thought, and she pretended not to notice Katya's expression. As long as Katya did not storm over to Dorian and make a scene, Tatiana was just going to pretend that Katya wasn't there, and deal with her later. For now...for now she was just going to hope the lovebirds could separate long enough to give her a few turns around the floor. This love business was all right, she supposed, if it made Dorya happy, but if it forced her to spend an entire evening sitting on the sidelines in formalwear watching other people dance but not being able to do so herself, she was going to be even crosser with Jean-Loup over it, and maybe a little with Dorya, too, even. Giving the relationship her blessing was a very different thing than giving him permission to forget that she had been here first.

Another dance began, and she remained seated alone in her blue and yellow dress robes with their floral embroidery, matching pearl-embroidered yellow povyazka tied atop her dark hair, which had been put in braids before she pinned it up. They were laced with a single blue ribbon, since technically - if not willingly - she was supposed to be in search of a husband, without an official groom selected yet, though she doubted anyone here would know that but her sister, and maybe Vladya and Ivy. Her small, pale face peered out at the room without any cosmetics, but between double-drop sapphire earrings, and she had on the pearl and diamond necklace Papa and Mama had given her for her sixteenth birthday. She twisted her rings, then smiled in genuine relief when she saw Vladya approaching her.

"Privet," she said as he sat down with her. Her smile deepened as she recognized a compliment. "Pozhaluista. You are much handsome also," she said, looking over the not entirely familiar sight of Vladya dressed up. It would not have occurred to her to wear an orange tie, but it did not look badly, so she had no complaints on that front, even in her head, which was the only place she really had much of a right to think any detailed thoughts about her friends' appearances. "You want to dance?" she asked instead of continuing to think pointless thoughts. Perhaps it was forward for a girl to offer, but it was between friends.

OOC: One may basically picture the dress and headdress from "Once Upon A December" from the animated Anastasia here, only with lots of embroidery and non-gauzy sleeves, plus the additional pretties Tatiana mentions.

16 Tatiana Vorontsova No running on the dance floor, you'll bump people. 1396 0 5

Lyssa Fitzgerald

April 19, 2020 12:39 PM

Such good work, can I interest you in some more? by Lyssa Fitzgerald

Lyssa had felt bad almost immediately after she had introduced herself to Jessica. Katya was there and her comments about last names had been unfair to Katya, who did have a last name worth repeating in the wizarding world. Katia was good people, and though she wasn’t sure about Katia, she did know that her older sister was open to Dorian and Dorian’s boyfriend (who somehow was now an intern in the hospital wing) so her comment hadn’t really been true either.

She’d been trying to figure out a way to talk to Jessica since that evening to apologize and continue their conversation on poetry and writing. Lyssa had found though that she felt a bit ashamed and non- Teppenpaw-esq, and as a consequence had steered clear of the other girl.

Still, she wanted to make amends to Jessica before the end of the school year and ask her if she’d be interested in the idea Cleo had been growing for sometime. She felt she owed the young woman something. She had opened up about poetry, which was never easy, and had seemed genuinely interested in talking more about it. Their conversation after Katia had been short, but Lyssa had found herself enjoying it until they had to leave.

Upon entering the Ball, Lyssa looked around for Jessica and saw her looking regal. She really was a sight to behold. Lyssa looked around to see if anyone else had noticed her, but for some reason, Jessica looked like she was alone. Without a date. Lyssa was momentarily baffled at the idea, until she remembered there were shockingly few boys at the school. Fewer straight boys too.

Lyssa cracked her neck to the side, straightened her shoulders and her pin that read “Don’t Touch Without Permission” and walked over to Jessica. Lyssa felt stylish in her navy blue tux, but also like she was an interloper into the regal world that Jessica was inhabiting. Lyssa walked up behind her and cleared her throat.

“Hi Jessica,” Lyssa began to Jessica’s back, “first of all I just wanted to say that you simply look… I… umm…well you, look like a queen. Or if not a queen, some form of justly vaunted nobility. I especially love the necklace. It's so," Lyssa paused looking at it again trying to find the correct words she wanted to use,"classic and elegant."

Lyssa paused a second before continuing, making sure to look the young woman in the eyes, "Secondly, I wanted to apologize. My introduction was in reaction to how others have reacted towards me for not being Pureblood. It was not fair to you and I should have I allowed that to be my reaction towards anyone, let alone you, a fellow wordsmith. If it's alright, I'd like to reintroduce myself. My name is Lyssa Fitzgerald and I would love to read your writing sometime. If you'll still allow it," she said sticking out her hand.

41 Lyssa Fitzgerald Such good work, can I interest you in some more? 1421 0 5

Katerina Vorontsov

April 19, 2020 1:16 PM

You're doing better than some. by Katerina Vorontsov

Katya thought she would have given nearly anything to have been allowed to put her hair up and her skirts to the floor, but sadly, Mama still did not allow it. As it was, she thought she was doing well to have gotten away with as much as she had with her dress - an effort which had made her cringe at the time, when Mama had raised an eyebrow, but which she now felt had been completely worth it as she twirled in front of the mirror in her room. The comparatively high-cut version of a Queen Anne neckline (necessarily high-cut for such a neckline, between the things Mama absolutely would not allow and the fact that Katya didn't have much to put in a lower one anyway) suited her, she thought, along with framing the pink diamond and gold pendant hanging from a golden chain around her neck. The layers and layers of light pink chiffon were fancy enough to quite distract from the skirt only coming to her lower calves, with some modest silk roses at the neckline and cinched waist. Katya had also charmed up some little silk roses to twine into the 'up' half of her half-up, half-down golden hair, and had shoes with heels. Her cheeks were still flushed with pleasure and anticipation as she entered the foyer and found her partner for the evening.

She smiled when she saw Martin Crosby, and did not stop when she realized he had accented his robes to match hers. Odd thing to do, she thought, especially since she had read that western boys did not like pink. It did not matter, though, and so she did not mention it as she said, "Good evening, Martin," in her accented English, taking the same liberty with his first name that he had taken with hers when he had asked her out.

Then there was the prefect dance, and Katya briefly wanted to either sink into the floor or go do something very unladylike to her sometime friend among the prefects. Once, she had rather wanted Dorian Montoir for herself, but she had resigned herself to the fact he belonged to Tatiana. The two of them were nearly inseparable at school, after all. They had visited each other at home before. Dorian had learned quite decent, for someone with only a few years experience and no formal teacher, Russian, and Tatiana had put in the effort to learn some Chinese and to improve her French. Everyone had taken it as given that they were going to get married, until quite suddenly, recently, Dorian had revealed himself to be not who they thought he was at all.

Katya hadn't heard the rumors at first. Though she understood most of the spoken English that swirled around her, she didn't go to the effort of listening in on other people's conversations as a rule, and thus missed out on a lot of gossip. She had not exactly heard it from Tatiana or Dorian, either, because...well, she supposed they were in different classes, and she was so very busy preparing for her exams and all...somehow, she guessed, she hadn't talked to either of them for a while before Sylvia Mordue had begun her insistence that there was only one acceptable candidate for Head Boy. That, at least, had confused Katya enough to interest her, because what did Sylvia care who the next Head Boy was, when it was another year before it could possibly be Sylvia's cousin? So she had listened more closely, looked around, and she had heard about what was now going on in front of her.

Looking away from the spectacle on the floor to remove at least a little of the temptation to do something proper but unladylike - her fingers actually twitched toward her wand, wanting to cast a quick charm on the floor to send them sprawling - she caught sight of her sister, which was not an improvement. Katya stared at Tatiana as her sister sat there stoically, watching the whole thing and not so much as frowning. For her own part, she felt her eyes trying to well up on Tatya's behalf. She did not know if she could have done it, had she been in Tatiana's position, and she felt a rare surge of respect for her sister, who usually seemed so foolish and childish, but who was bearing up under what had to be a horrific shock and what was now a public insult all at once.

Finally, the torture ended. She looked up at Martin as he offered her a drink. Pity, she thought, that there was absolutely no chance that meant vodka and burning the things she had just seen out of her brain. "You may, thank you," she said. "If they have melon punch, I like this better than the pumpkin."

16 Katerina Vorontsov You're doing better than some. 1418 0 5

Jessica Hayles

April 19, 2020 2:15 PM

Depends on what you mean. by Jessica Hayles

"Hi, Jessica."

For a moment, Jessica couldn't place the voice, but then she turned to see Lyssa Fitzgerald, the great leader of the Muggleborn proletariat, or whatever it was called here. Uncomfortably, she remembered Mara's recent fixation on figuring out what wizard politics were like - the details and all. Were they bound to a certain position simply by virtue of birth, she wondered?

It was irrational to feel uncomfortable with that thought. Every vote Jessica ever would have cast had been virtually decided before she was ever born at home, too, after all. Her grandfather was one of the minority party senators in Georgia, and her uncle was a representative from the same party. Her mother's family had been hosting fundraisers for liberal politicians and organizations for decades, and her father's family owed its fortune to a proto-feminist businesswoman who'd had some involvement with the suffragettes, though Ariana had been canny enough not to get arrested for anyone's revolution. Even had Jessica for some reason agreed with the Other Side, it would not have mattered at all - she doubted they would have had her even had she gone mad and decided to convert. She was a Groves, after all, even if that wasn't her last name. It felt different, though, to think of being lumped into a group because of the ways her parents were like normal people than to think of being lumped into a group because of the ways they were not.

"Um - thank you," she said, taken aback when she was compared to a queen and her necklace was complimented. "It's antique - my grandparents gave it to me."

Ivy leaves because Mommy had always said she was going to go to Princeton. Grandpa, who had gone to the University of Georgia, found her parents' old preoccupation with the Ivy League rather funny, she thought, though he did make a point whenever it came up of reminding them that they ought to send her to Duke or Georgetown, if they were going to insist on being snobby about colleges, instead of sending her up North - "people gonna go remembering your daddy was a Yankee, Arthur!" She could practically hear his voice now, though it had been years since the family had joked about such things. Now, after all, they all viewed her existence as a tragic waste of potential, so the old saws seemed inappropriate, as though they were asking for stiff drinks at a funeral.

She fidgeted with the delicate pearl as Lyssa earnestly explained what had been going through her mind the last time they'd spoken. This was not something she ever would have expected, and it was more than a little embarrassing, listening to someone apologize. At home, after all, she had always been taught that she should do so as rarely as possible - because it was showing weakness. That was why it had hurt so much when Felipe had thrown her olive branch back in her face; it had been mortifying, making that gesture, and then to have it all be for nothing....

Well, that was over, and there was no point in thinking about it any further. If he apologized to her, she would acknowledge his existence again, but it had gotten easier to pretend he didn't exist over time, and she had learned her lesson. Trusting people was like revenge: a sucker's game, not one she was going to play again.

"I've never been one to say no to an audience," she said with a smile as Lyssa completed her spiel, returning the handshake. "And don't worry about before - I've learned a little about how some people around here think of people like us myself this year. Charming, civilized people, aren't they?" she said dryly.

16 Jessica Hayles Depends on what you mean. 1442 0 5

Grayson Wright

April 19, 2020 4:30 PM

You'll hear no argument from me there. by Grayson Wright

Ah, the Ball. Pageantry, romance...floral arches which briefly gave rise to the horrified thought that some of the pureblood students might be planning to get married right there on the floor, though he realized that was stupid as quickly as he thought it. There were no unfamiliar adults around, after all, which meant no society reporters, no parents, no wizened great-great-grandfathers pulling all the strings, and what was a pureblood wedding without all that? It was just the photographer's set-up, though he did steal a moment while everyone was focused on the prefects' dance to slip a notebook out of his pocket and scribble down the idea for a mass wedding at a ball. He could slip it into the sequel he was under contract to write to Charlotte Ayleward - seemed the kind of thing that might have been plausible at a magical school in the nineteenth century, or at least plausible enough for him to get away with it in a story where the protagonist already had to solve mysteries while teaching her Potions classes.

He did not expect anyone would look toward the corner he had chosen to haunt even if some light did reflect off his glasses, but he wrote quickly just the same, in shorthand, before slipping the notebook and tiny end of pencil back into his pocket and turning his attention back to the dance floor. The odds that anything was going to go disastrously wrong at this point seemed slight, but, well...the situation with Mr. Montoir was not a mass wedding of seventh year society couples, but it was also not something he, at least, had ever seen happen before, either as a student or a professor. It was, however, something he knew a significant faction of the school would regard as seriously deviant, and...well. There had been enough unpleasantness over such things over the past decade or so to warrant an extra eye on the student population even without considering the individuals involved.

He had to admire their nerve a little, he had to admit. He didn't like to think about just how relieved he had been when he had concluded that he was not gay, all those years ago in college - that, whether it was normal or not, he was Nothing In Particular. Nothing In Particular came with its own set of problems, with people assuming he was gay and the occasional thoughts about how he was going to die alone creeping up on him and the assumption he was gay and his failure to carry on the family name adding to the list of ways in which he'd disappointed his parents and whatnot, but they were trifling compared to the sort of problems those lads might be in for. He was not entirely sure of the details, but he thought such problems were actually why Mr. Arceneaux was with them at the moment in the first place, and the notes they had gotten about Dorian being fragile at the start of term made a horrifying sort of sense in hindsight. Poor kids - they were probably overdue a nice occasion, and were more likely to have one if the staff paid more attention to the students than to ideas for their next novels. There was also the issue of not trusting the other students not to do other inappropriate things, too. So he tried to pay attention.

He had always had a peculiar relationship with lurking in corners, though - specifically, that he always thought it sounded like a good idea, but then didn't like it, and felt slightly wrong doing it. Plus, the lack of visibility made it easier for his mind to wander. Therefore, he allowed his feet to wander to the refreshments, only to realize the other partnerless staff seemed to have all had the same idea.

"Keeps things interesting at least," he said, catching Killian Row's remark, and trying not to be too wary of men with beards, despite the fact one of them was someone who made his living interacting with wild animals and therefore almost certainly could, if so minded, snap Grayson Wright in half like a twig. Irrational thought, illogical - for one thing, beards seemed to take a lot of grooming, which arguably should make them even more effeminate than staying shaven, and for another, why would any of his colleagues wish to kill him? They had compelling reason not to simply because he was Head of Aladren, he thought; his absence would put the task of dealing with all the (generally somewhat strident, one way or another, or else inattentive) personalities Aladren could draw in general, and currently, with Topaz Brockert and Ness McLeod sharing a room. His good sense outweighed his sense of melodrama just enough to keep it in proportion, but he couldn't really think he'd be completely surprised if he found himself called upon to deal with a case of attempted murder, one way or the other, after the prefect announcements next year. "And welcome back, by the way," he added to Lawrence.

16 Grayson Wright You'll hear no argument from me there. 113 Grayson Wright 0 5

Morgan Garrett

April 19, 2020 5:19 PM

I'll wear what I want. by Morgan Garrett

There had been much wailing and gnashing of teeth at Morgan's houses over the holidays, and she had returned in something of a grump with the Fates. All her life, she had wished her parents could agree on just one thing, and now they finally had. Naturally, it was that she could not have a ballgown. Or even anything remotely elegant or suitable for an evening occasion. She was too young. She would look silly. Even Dad, who had been to Sonora, had agreed with that one; he said she'd look like she was trying to be something she wasn't. He didn't seem to cotton that that was the whole point!

Instead of looking like a movie star at her premiere, then, Morgan was stuck looking like she was going on an Easter Egg hunt. She had on a plain blue midi dress, gathered slightly at the waist and with another line of sewing further down to make the part that fell down to her knees look a bit like a ruffle. Then, to add insult to injury, it was topped with a little white lace shrug, because Mom thought the sight of shoulders would send every boy in the school to Hell, and also that Morgan's arms were too pudgy for display. A blue headband pushed her hair back from her face.

The only part (well, the only parentally approved part) of her outfit she liked was her sandals. The straw platforms were not exactly glamorous, but at least they weren't ballet flats. She was almost tall this way. All of Anna's eyeliners and mascaras had dried out years ago, but Morgan had managed to do a little magic with some old eyeshadows and a Revlon Pink in the Afternoon lipstick that still smelled of nothing and therefore seemed safe enough to use. She had also painted her nails and toenails bright red, just because she knew Mom hated it. This was also why she had topped the whole ensemble off with her fake Schlumberger bracelets - three of them, the white with fake sapphires and the blue with fake diamonds on one wrist and the red one with fake diamonds on the other - and the Princess Grace broadcast necklace - all fairly big pieces Mom hated for her even to play in at home, and had made faces at even when Anna was still alive and had been the jewelry's real owner.

Thus adorned, she strolled into the ball and found a table to sit at as quickly as possible, so she wouldn't have to go through the whole awkward can-I-sit-here thing, and set to watching the prefects dance.

"They're something, huh?" she said to someone else as the couples whirled about.

OOC: The dress and shoes: here. The Princess Grace 'Broadcast necklace' can be seen: here. Last but not least, one of the replica "Jackie bracelets": here

16 Morgan Garrett I'll wear what I want. 1470 0 5

Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne

April 19, 2020 5:23 PM

Or ever again, it seems. by Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne

Tabitha tried to stop her cheeks from flushing pink as Mary made her message very clear. Her wife could be such a little vixen at times and Tabitha had to admit that she loved it when Mary let this side of herself out. These exchanges happened often in the privacy of their quarters but out in the open, it was rare for Tabitha to see Mary drop her professional and polite exterior. The Ball was obviously a very special occasion for such a thing to happen. She twirled Mary under her arm before pulling her close again.

"The night is young indeed," Tabitha murmured in agreement. "Anything can happen."

Tabitha felt relaxed dancing with Mary and she supposed it was a combination of being in the presence of her wife and also there being nothing urgent to attend to. As it was nearing the end of the school year, Tabitha had been giving out less homework which in turn meant there was less to mark and significantly freed up her time. The stacks of essays that had been haunting her for most of the year had now dwindled to next to nothing and Tabitha had finally found the wooden surface of her desk in both her classroom and her quarters.

Tabitha grew concerned when Mary started talking about surprises. The Defence professor wasn't a huge fan of them. Surprises were something you couldn't prepare for and being unprepared was something Tabitha couldn't stand. Where possible, it was always a good idea to have a plan and then, ideally, a backup plan in case of emergencies.

When Mary confessed that she had arranged to spend the whole summer in Greece, Tabitha was surprised that her wife had been in contact with Darius (and presumably Evangeline) without her knowing and that when Darius had written to her, he hadn't said a thing. The man was an open book, he had no secrets and yet he had kept shtum about this.

"The whole summer?" Tabitha asked, unsure if she wanted to do that. It was a good idea to get some relaxation in, especially after the year they had but normally, Tabitha and Mary only ever spent a couple of weeks of the holiday in Greece. Finding this out rather put an end to some ideas that Tabitha had had about places to visit. She had read a few books while on forced bed rest and had come up with things to go, places to go. "I wanted to go to the Middle East to find an Occamy Nest, perhaps even have the privilege of seeing some hatching..."

There was another reason that Tabitha didn't particularly want to spend the entire summer in Greece and it was the simple fact that she knew she wasn't completely back to normal yet. She didn't want to show up on Darius and Evangeline's doorstep in the state that she was in. That would just be humiliating and she was pretty sure that, at the moment, Darius would easily be able to best her in a duel and her pride simply would not allow that. Besting her wasn't the problem but she didn't want to make it easy for him.

However, she did want to make Mary happy though and after the year they'd had and the problems that Tabitha knew she had caused, perhaps it would be better if she just went along with it.

"Is this what you really want us to do, Mary?"

20 Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne Or ever again, it seems. 1417 0 5

Mara Morales

April 19, 2020 6:15 PM

This isn't quite anything I expected. by Mara Morales

Balls were, in Mara's world, something that happened on the sort of movies her baby sister still loved to watch over and over again, ad infinitum, ad nauseam. Sleeping Beauty and Beauty and the Beast had them at the very ends, if one didn't count the single, two-person dance number in the middle of the latter, and Cinderella had one that was actually relevant to such plot as the thing had. Mara was convinced that Lola had learned as much English from watching old movies as she ever had from their father, though she was still at the phase where she jabbered in both in such a tangle that it was hard to really judge. Mara thought the jabbering leaned far more heavily Spanish than her own had, however, and that made Mara uneasy, sometimes. Lola would go to kindergarten in the fall, and while kindergarteners were probably too young to be particularly racist....

Balls, in her mind, were primarily to do with white people. Disney princesses and very occasionally to real rich white people like Dad and Mrs. H. Museums might have a ball, or politicians. The Junior League might throw something for debutantes like Jessica - at least, she thought it was the Junior League who did that - and of course there was what happened whenever a president was elected, though Dad and Mrs. H. had never to her knowledge gone to one of those. They were not, however, something Mara went to. In Colombia, it would have been traditional for her to have something which was very very similar to the English Ball when she was a quinceañera - waltzing with one's father and wearing a tiara were both traditional - but Mara had never expected that to happen. For one thing, they were Americans, something her mother was embarrassingly, over-the-top proud of. For another, her father was hardly likely to attend, was he? There would be too many people, too many photographs.

She had always told herself that she was just as well off without such things in her life, and she had maintained this attitude through her first attempt to run her own business. She could profit off it, but that didn't mean she was really part of it. It was only on the evening of that, feeling curiously wary, she admitted to herself that she was curious about it. What was a ball, anyway? Did it really look anything like the ones in the movies? Were all the girls going to be lined up and made to bow to the Head Boy, and if so, how much trouble would Mara get in if she discreetly used this hiccuping hex she'd read about on whoever corralled her into something like that?

Spotting her sister, she was not optimistic - Jessica looked even more like a princess than usual. Not a storybook princess, but an actual princess. Of course Mrs. H. would insist Jessica wear a headband which was actually made of precious metals and real jewels. However, upon entering the room, she was surprised by how normal it looked - it could have been almost a normal prom, if one ignored the waterfalls and stuff, or assured oneself it was a normal fountain. She knew it was not, but if she squinted, it might have been.

She, for her part, did not look like a princess. Instead of a flouncy prom dress, she had chosen a wide-legged, wide-sleeved designer jumpsuit - when she was not walking, it looked like she was wearing a maxidress with kinda medieval-y sleeves instead of something with proper legs and pockets in it - in blue accented with black, as a nod to Aladren. She had black sling-backs on her feet - an uncomfortable concession to the formality of the occasion - and had put her hair in a bun, the better to show off the smallish (for the type) gold chandelier filigree earrings she had donned as her second concession to impracticality. Though she was responsible for some of the cosmetics around the room, her own face was clear except for lip gloss. She stood near the back, her arms crossed at her waist, looking around, taking in the variety of outfits entering.

Deputy Headmistress Skies sent the prefects and their dates out, and they started dancing. Nobody else did, so Mara joined her classmates in staring at the handful of important couples, no small few of whom she imagined were intensely uncomfortable in this situation. Not all, though - a couple of presumably gay guys seemed altogether delighted with each other, among others. She thought a tentative thought about the future, and whether she would ever have to do that, but then dismissed it as too far away to bother with.

When the dance ended, she snagged a seat. Other people seemed to be going to dance, but mostly in pairs, formal dancing, slow dancing kind of stuff. This was not what had happened at the fourth and fifth grade dance at her old school, or what she had been led to expect from the middle school dances. Did no-one else find it really weird to think about people any younger than the prefects having dates?

Someone else joined her table. Mara gave them a smile and a quick nod. "Hey," she said by way of acknowledgement.

OOC Note: Mara refers to "when she was a quinceañera" rather than "at her quinceañera" or similar because according to Wikipedia, at least, Spanish-speaking countries usually use the term only to refer to the honoree; it's only in English that the term has come to mean the party itself. Same source for the information about the Colombian traditions for said celebration.

16 Mara Morales This isn't quite anything I expected. 1472 0 5

Lawrence Marsh

April 19, 2020 6:21 PM

Gentlemen, I'm merely remarking on our similarities by Lawrence Marsh

Lawrence was watching a boy he couldn’t place follow around Eden, one of the seventh years in his advanced class. She had an aptitude for dealing with creatures, no offense to the young man following her around, but she was not one to apply herself in his class. Or at least not yet. Still she seemed blissfully unaware that the young man she was dragging around seemed to be nervous for some reason. Happy, but nervous. For a moment Lawrence thought the young man might be drugged, but he didn’t seem to be showing any of the normal physical affects. He was focusing on the young man while taking a sip when he heard a voice from his left side giving him a start.

Turning towards the voice he realized it was the guidance counselor and his face gave a reflexive twitch. It wasn’t this man’s fault, just a reaction from his time at the clinic. Still Killian seemed to have a calmness about him that was interesting. Not unlike a predator, but one at rest. Possibly by the watering hole, Lawrence thought as he brought his cup down from his lips.

“As much as one can I guess,” Lawrence remarked with a smile and tugging at his tie. The smile was one he’d practice, but it seemed easy enough to put on. He remembered his counselor from the clinic Just like putting on a costume. Be a slightly different you. He raised his left eyebrow at Killians next remark. Almost like he was reading Lawrences mind. He was about to respond when, the writer was next to him and made Lawrence honestly chuckle.

“That they do. That they do,” Lawrence said as he looked back over the dance floor. He’d lost sight of Eden and the young man and so turned back to his fellow teachers. Then Grayson said something marvelous that made Lawrence honestly smile. Not one he’d practice. This one felt different. Lawrence hadn’t been wrong. People did care here, and noticed when you were gone.

“Thank you Mr. Wright. It’s nice to be back,” Lawrence replied, bringing his cup back up to his mouth to try and hide whatever blush might happen.

He was also trying to buy a bit of time. He felt he should say something more, but as always was unsure about how to start. He could bring up how he’d heard some of mr. Wright’s radio shows when he was working in OZ, but that might bring up awkward conversations about why he wasn’t there anymore. Plus, he didn’t know how to do it without sounding a bit like a fan asking for approval.

Small talk. His shrink had told him that small talk was a way to grow togetherness between people. Like how some animals groom each other, humans give small talk. And Lawrence, for the first time in a while, found he wanted to grow togetherness with these people. He wanted to fit in with his flock. So how did one create small talk? What was the exercise he was always given. Find something in the room and make it slightly personal while asking a question.

That seemed like a lot of things to do as Lawrence slowly looked over the dance floor and towards the back where a table had appeared.

“These students are always full of surprise,” Lawerence said nodding towards the back table that had appeared before two of his advanced students, “though I imagine we all were full of surprises at this age. What was the most surprising thing you all did in school?”

Lawrence thought back to the time he’d hopped on the back of a Gryphon in school when he was feeding it, just to see what it felt like to lay on its back. Powerful was the answer. It felt powerful.

That would probably be his story, if they got that far.

41 Lawrence Marsh Gentlemen, I'm merely remarking on our similarities 1462 0 5

Killian Row

April 19, 2020 6:42 PM

I am not very similar to anything that does a mating dance. by Killian Row

As Grayson approached and joined the conversation, Killian grinned at him. He wasn't one to bother hiding his grins because he found that they generally set people a bit more at ease, especially if they recognized that their mere presence was enough to cause them. Also, Killian felt like he was one of the cool kids, hanging out with professors who were actually professors. Still, he drank his punch - which was delicious, holy cow - as Grayson and Lawrence exchanged greetings.

On the whole, Killian tried not to interrogate or analyse his coworkers. They rarely appreciated it or benefited from it the way that students did. But at the same time....

Grayson Wright - Aladren HoH, Charms professor, observant and community-driven.
Lawrence Marsh - Groundskeeper? COMC professor, stiff, appreciates efforts for connection.

Killian didn't have to say that stuff out loud just because he was filing it away in some mental drawer. It was helpful and Killian liked knowing stuff about people. It made them people. He wasn't talking to the professors of COMC and Charms, he was talking to Lawrence, who was a bit stiff but appreciated efforts for connection, and Grayson, who was observant and community-driven. Those were all good things to know about possible friends. And also just in case one of them wanted an intern at some point...

The conversation turned to the crazy things they'd done as students and Killian grinned after a moment. He first had to look to see that Cleo James - 17, Crotalus prefect, sad - was doing a big thing and that was exciting. He was so stinking proud of her.

"I don't know how surprising it was at the time," Killian began, lips twitching up at the memory, although it wasn't necessarily a good one. "I think it would be a bit now: I must've only been twelve or thirteen and I was convinced that I was going to be the next great young Quidditch player. I nicked a broom from the closet and snuck out one night to ride around and get some practice in, but I overshot one goal and knocked myself out on the hoop. Woke up with a pounding headache and a detention slip the next morning in the Hospital Wing."

He glanced down theatrically at his obviously softened, albeit narrow, frame and shrugged. "I don't think I have a good shot anymore," he laughed.

22 Killian Row I am not very similar to anything that does a mating dance. 1450 0 5

Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

April 19, 2020 6:59 PM

No no I was only trying to help. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary loved dancing. She was pretty good at it, too. Dancing with Tabitha was by far one of her favorite romantic things to do together, and she appreciated that Tabitha took the time for the little spins and things so they weren't just swaying in one place. She was enjoying the closeness that came with this sort of thing as she spoke, and she could feel Tabitha stiffen up. Then she pulled away sharply, looking up at Tabitha with round, surprised eyes. They continued dancing as Mary's expression grew into a wide, delighted grin.

"You should absolutely go to the Middle East," she chirped. "My love, I wasn't sure if you'd be up for these things. You've seemed . . . out of sorts. I didn't want you to feel like nothing was happening. I wasn't sure whether you'd feel up for coming up with a trip like that. Lord knows I can't." She cocked her head, trying not to be too emotional, trying not to tear up. "My Tabitha," she murmured. "It's so good to hear you say you want to do that. I'm happy to go with you, or Darius can, or whatever you want. I'm so excited." She had to suppress the urge to jump up and down, although she realized she was on her tip toes now, so she clearly wasn't doing a great job.

22 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne No no I was only trying to help. 1424 0 5

Grayson Wright

April 19, 2020 7:02 PM

I suspect 'not doing mating dances' may be what we three have in common. by Grayson Wright

Gray winced as Killian recounted his attempts to become the next great Quidditch player as a boy, and the results. He had never accomplished that, of course - at least not the unconscious and in detention bits; he probably had whacked the poles a few times - but that was only because nobody had ever been insane enough to suggest he play anything but the relatively safe role of Keeper.

"I sympathize," he said. "I believe I have the record as the worst Keeper in the history of Aladren House, though I never actually got detention for it." He pushed his glasses up his nose, clear indicators of one of the many reasons he had never been well-suited to the noble art of playing Quidditch. "My cousin was the captain. She was a little fanatical. My recruitment involved death threats," he added blandly. They hadn't been serious death threats, of course. Probably.

"I lived a quiet life at school, mostly, though. The most interesting thing I probably did in school was become a playwright - back then, the Concert worked differently than it does now," he explained, feeling rather antique, though he was reasonably sure both of the other men were about his age. "Each House had to put on an act, so I got to amuse myself making my most dignified classmates be actors in a play about actors, one time, and another..." He frowned. "I had writer's block that year. It wasn't very good, but it was fun. I think there was a cauldron involved," he said vaguely before looking back to Marsh.

"How about you?" he asked.

16 Grayson Wright I suspect 'not doing mating dances' may be what we three have in common. 113 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

April 19, 2020 7:27 PM

Wouldn't that be a dream. by Leonor De Matteo

Leonor was supposed to be finding a husband. Unfortunately, boys at Sonora mostly were terrible. Still, the show must go on. She'd managed to find a dress she didn't hate when she'd gone shopping with Bella (a trip she was glad was over for a number of reasons) and she actually felt pretty okay in it. It was an orange coral tank top dress with enough texture to be interesting without being distracting, and she'd worn a simple cross necklace with it because that was what the De Matteos did. At least, that's what they would have done had this been a Ciudad de Matteo event. Muggles.

She'd finally given in to the more bouncy tendencies of her hair and left it to curl as it pleased, so it fell to her shoulders in easy waves. It wasn't terrible actually. White sandals completed the outfit and it was great because Leonor felt like she was just as likely to wear this again to attend some boring person's birthday party as anything else, which made it a reasonable purchase. Some day, when she got to decide for herself what a reasonable purchase was, she'd dress like one of those Cenicienta girls who seemed to dominate the room with their sparkle, for better and for worse. Mostly for worse.

Leonor planned to spend the night mostly with Mab, Theo, Mara, or whoever else was mostly not terrible. Felipe was looking like a lovestruck puppy, following around his date, so the two of them were out for sure. To be fair, Felipe did look pretty okay, and he looked happy. His date was certainly not Leonor's favorite person in the world, but she looked pretty. She undoubtedly would turn a few more heads than just Leonor's brother's tonight. Whomever Leonor chose to hang out with, she would have to at least try to make her rounds to suitable young men first.

Ugh.

Luckily, the prefects danced first, and before Leonor could decide whether any of the boys who had come without a date were going to be worth her time, someone interrupted her. Morgan was Mara's roommate, plus the school was tiny, so Leonor knew who the girl was. Even if neither of those things were true, Leonor made a point of knowing everyone's name because that's what she was supposed to do now. She wasn't half so good at it as Felipe was but that was to be expected, if not accepted.

Also luckily, Morgan didn't start out with some asinine compliment directed at the group of spinning teenagers trying to hide their discomfort behind awkward smiles and ugly clothes. That made her pretty okay so far. Leonor supposed if the girl was Aladren, she was smart in theory, and if she was housed with Mara, she was already primed to not be annoying; Mara wasn't one to mince words. Plus she was one of the few people other than herself that Leonor saw wearing something that seemed reasonable for an eleven-year-old to be wearing. Just in case the universe had forgotten that they were literal children. No? Okay.

"Mostly just overhyped I think," Leonor responded with a frown in the general direction of the dance floor. She turned her gaze on Morgan again, much more interested by this person than the rest of the room at the moment. Tt was also a good chance to practice a new thing she was working on for diplomacy and mingling purposes: start with something nice. "You look good in blue," she declared matter-of-factly.

OOC: The story of Cinderella is, in Spanish, "La Cenicienta."

22 Leonor De Matteo Wouldn't that be a dream. 1471 0 5

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 19, 2020 8:46 PM

Life is a lie, let's make a new one. [Mab] by Alexander Pierce-Beales

CW: Victim blaming.

Evelyn Stones. Alexander had a sister named Evelyn Stones. They had a shared father, who had abandoned one of them (possibly unwittingly) and . . . what? Did something bad to the other one. On the whole, Alexander trusted Nathaniel's judgment, but he couldn't help wondering if maybe Evelyn wasn't as nice as Nathaniel thought. Maybe Mathias Stones was perfectly nice and Evelyn was terrible and deserved whatever happened to her. Or whatever she thought had happened to her that was actually something like decent printing. Because Mathias Stones was real and he was alive and he was Alexander's father. He hadn't meant to abandon Alexander as far as the latter could tell, so he couldn't exactly blame him for being awful yet. In fact, Alexander thought that Mathias might be the only family he had that he didn't have to blame for anything terrible yet. If that changed, if Evelyn was the nice one, then Alexander was not only abandoned, but he was abandoned by crappy parents who gave him their rotten genetics and then left him to live or not.

Barnabas was laying on Alexander's nightstand. He'd begun leaving the purple horse there, where he was both safe and could serve as a reminder. If Mathias Stones was the sort of horrible that Nathaniel seemed to think - Alexander had met enough kids in the system with that sort of background to be able to read between the lines on that one - then Alexander would need a reminder not to be like his father. It also meant that Alexander was alone, which seemed like it was long overdue. He'd always been alone; he'd just been denying it. Now, he wasn't going to do that. If he was lucky, he'd be able to start being a little less alone. As he prepared for the Ball, he thought he might be on the right path for that.

"You look lovely," Alexander said to Barnabas' reflection in the mirror as he observed himself and did his best to get his jacket to lay flat and lint-free. "You look lovely. You look lovely." This was never going to work. He still wasn't sure whether he'd get punched in the eye for trying to say something like that to Mab. At the very least, she'd probably think he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. If he was lucky, they both had.

Truth be told, Alexander was feeling reckless anyway. Maybe he wanted to tell Mab she looked beautiful, and maybe he wanted to steal bread from the kitchen, and maybe he wanted to see how long they could go without being caught, and maybe he just wanted to scream and scream and scream until his lungs came out and, hopefully, took his heart with them. It was odd to him that angry went hand-in-hand with exhausted, because he always thought that anger was powerful. But really, it was just keeping him up at night, and it was making him sour. He didn't want to be that person, and wanted to be extra careful about it if his father was that person.

Unfortunately, he'd already submitted the contact request form about Mathias Stones. He really should have waited for the letter from Nathaniel to do that, but at least now he'd get to find out in his own way whether or not this man was what Nathaniel seemed convinced he was. What Alexander desperately hoped he was not.

Because if he was, then Alexander didn't have it the worst. Sure, he had it bad. He'd been abandoned to grow up in a system that was more apt to losing him than helping him find himself. But the way Nathaniel had described Evelyn's reaction, he couldn't help wonder if she had had it worse. Would it be worse to be hurt by a parent? Or to never have a parent at all? If Evelyn was wrong, then Alexander had had it the worst, and his anger was justified. If he hadn't, if they were tied maybe, then Alexander was on the same side as someone he'd never met, and that was too risky. Too scary. Too vulnerable. And too dangerous for his future, adult self, if genetics were what they seemed to be. He didn't understand that much about them because apparently wizards didn't need science in their curriculum, but what he did know was that if it was nature versus nurture, and he hadn't had a whole lot of nurture, and nature wasn't serving him anything to work with, then he was basically doomed.

At least he'd look good doomed. He was surprised that the suit he and Mab had picked out fit as well as it did. He looked pretty okay. He was excited for Mab's dress, too. She did look lovely in it, but he still wasn't convinced he should tell her that. Instead, he was thinking of telling her about his secret. Then, maybe, they could be reckless together. They'd agreed on wanting company for this shindig, but they hadn't necessarily discussed whether they for sure had to go to this shindig. Get the fancy clothes, be the fancy people, do the fancy thing, and then see how high they could climb up in some of the trees in the Gardens before they were caught. If any two kids were going to be able to stay hidden, it would be the kids no one ever saw anyway; maybe they could hide up there all night and only come down when they wanted to. It would be nice to feel like he got to decide something for once.

He did get to decide whether he was on time for the Ball though, too, so he said farewell to Barnabas and ducked out of his room, feeling like he should be heading to Gatsby's next party instead of a wizard ball. Although Gatsby would probably have really liked the magic waterfall. Upon his arrival, Alexander decided Gatsby probably would have liked most of it. It seemed much less stuffy than the sorts of things that Gatsby threw for people he didn't even like anyway. That was relatable though; maybe that's why Alexander liked the book so much. Not that anyone would know, because he didn't smile when he walked into Cascade Hall and he didn't smile when he read the Great Gatsby. He did manage a smile when he saw Mab though. Just a little one, and a fleeting one at that, but it did happen.

"I got news," he said quietly to her as he approached. "They found my parents, and I have a sister." Man, that felt good to say out loud. It felt so so good. For a moment, his anger was replaced with adrenaline, and he thought again about what sort of shenanigans they might be able to get up to together. But then he leaned back, realizing he'd completely missed an important step. He had told himself that he'd at least consider whether or not Mab looked nice before writing it off as a lost cause. She actually really did. He adjusted his suit again, playfully this time. "Also," he smirked flatly. "We look lovely."

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales Life is a lie, let's make a new one. [Mab] 1475 0 5

Josephine Clyde

April 20, 2020 2:36 AM

This is SO not what I expected either by Josephine Clyde

Tonight was the Midsummer Ball and true to its name the event felt like it was between two seasons, though not quite summer yet. She’d honestly been a little nervous about it. After all, in her memory, a ball was like a dance and all the dances she saw on TV were romance filled nights. Thankfully Josie had gotten advice, again, and it was comforting to know that there would be no expectations of romance. Just fun! She was grateful to Bridget and Jezebel for clearing that up. Their trip to Tumbleweed had been a lot of fun and she’d learned a lot of new things thanks to them. They were probably here somewhere, but she was still a little afraid. She definitely didn’t feel brave enough to dive into a crowd of older strangers to do it, so she wandered through the beautiful decorations, admired the flowers and eventually found her way over to the buffet table.

Josie was careful not to get any stains on her new dress. The dress. She pushed anxious hands down the sides of it and tried to remember the positive feeling that had motivated her to buy it. But all she could think about now was how green it was. The color brought out her eyes, or whatever the compliment had been, and she knew it did. Anything green made her eyes that much more noticeable, but she didn’t really want to be noticed like that anymore. With her mother, it had been something praised and loved and doted on. Now, with Minnie and her father, she was more afraid of it sticking out and reminding the people she lived with that she wasn’t like them. It was still a beautiful dress, perfect for the Ball.

The entire evening was beautiful, like a dream. Minnie’s wedding to her father had been an equally spectacular event because of all the magic. Magic guests, magic vows and magic everything. It had been the most beautiful party she’d ever been to and for some reason it made her sad. Minnie was nice enough, as nice as she could be, but Josie couldn’t help but compare the shining sparkling night to the old and terrible quality of her parent’s wedding video. It was clearly not as fancy as Minnie’s wedding, but Josie felt that it was just as beautiful.

She hadn’t spent much time thinking about her mother. There was Sonora and magic and new friends and they all took up her time in the happiest ways, but sometimes, recently, she would think about her what her life could have been like if her mother had still been alive. Would she have hated sending Josie away and only getting to see her on holidays and occasionally weekends? Would she have sent cookies and brownies and little cakes back with her to give to her friends? Would she have been able to visit? Maybe not Sonora, but surely she could have at least visited Tumbleweed? Tears welled up in her eyes in a way that hadn’t happened since the funeral. She called it “the hole”. It sat in her chest and liked to remind her that it existed by poking her every so often with feelings. She’d tried covering it, filling it up and ignoring it, but always it ached in the same way. Sometimes it ached like a bruise other times it ached like her head did recently.

Rubbing her head Josie stumbled over to the dessert section of the table and blindly grabbed at anything before shuffling over to a nearby table. She’d forgotten to eat lunch. Yes. That must be the reason for the headache. She’d been so excited for the Ball that she’d forgotten to eat, but now that she was here she couldn’t remember what had made her so excited in the first place.
A greeting came over her way and she looked up at the other person. Mara. Good, beautiful, steady and stable Mara.

“Mara!” Josie though maybe enthusiasm would hide the pain that was already fading, “Hi, I love your outfit. Looks comfortable!”

44 Josephine Clyde This is SO not what I expected either 1477 0 5

Theo Spurn

April 20, 2020 4:35 AM

All the feels! by Theo Spurn

Theo twirled his way down to the ball, scarves and ribbons spinning. He was all the best textures. His mum had sent his very best Special Occasions jacket seeing as this was one, and it was his and up to him what he wore. Sometimes when they went to things where other people had made the dressing rules, he could not wear it. On those occasions, he still had silk shirts and velvet blazers and happiness but he was not as resplendently twirly and multi-textural as he was now. The long open robe was made of a lightweight velour type fabric in a brilliantly pale purple which shimmered in the light. The large bell sleeves were adorned with several handkerchiefs hanging off them like flags, and ribbons which flew out like streamers, each of them a different, wonderful, touchable texture. It had several buttons, all encased in corduroy, which were mostly for feels and fiddles as he preferred to wear the robe open and allow it to billow to full effect. Underneath, he had an orange diamond-patterned silk shirt underneath, and bright blue velvet flares. That was how you knew today was special - he was all the colours and all the textures. All the good ones anyway.

He also had surprises. He had one of his bags - a small velvet evening bag in dark purple and silver - and it was full of surprises. Sort of. Obviously it was full of soft things because a surprise that was an unpleasant texture (like… bees) was a bad surprise (no one needed bees as a surprise) and it being full of soft things wasn’t surprising because it was logical that it would be. But what soft things? That was the surprise.

He swooped along to the hall, making his adornments flutter as he went. He couldn't wait to touch what everyone else was wearing!

He entered the hall, and joined the group of people standing around the dance floor. He touched a particularly appealing looking garment on the shoulder, and its owner turned around, saying something about oh-can't-you-see? and moving obligingly out of his way.

Then the prefects came in and one of their clothings was telling Theo what to do. He blinked. Well. Okay… Yes, he supposed that was a rule normally and he’d just got excited and forgotten it. It was useful to have a reminder. Theo often had reminders about different things. His dad was good at making them and reminding Theo that he had a responsibility to look at them and try to remember them, and his mum was good at making them and reminding other people that they had a responsibility to use them with Theo, and that way it was fair and everyone was trying rather than expecting Theo to just… suddenly remember all the things because if it was as simple as just doing it all he’d be doing it already. That seemed obvious but it was amazing the number of people you had to explain it to.

After the dance, people started mozying and mingling. Some of them were with people, some of them were without. Most of them were older than him, whether by a little or a lot. None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was how everyone felt. The reminder girl swam out of memory as the time (measured in seconds rather than minutes) elapsed since he had seen her. Normally, he could remember a bit. But there were silky things and gauzy things and... not so many fuzzy or fluffy things but there was Professor Marsh’s beard and the rest of him too and just so many good, good things and Theo just wanted everyone to fall into a big squishy pile of cuddles. He swooshed along until he saw someone with a nice outfit, and he swooshed up and gently stroked them. This evening was going to be great!

OOC anyone who is soft is welcome to be a target! Velvet would be especially appealing! I didn’t specify where he is touching to accommodate different outfit types but it would be the arm if your garment has sleeves or the shoulder/back if not.

13 Theo Spurn All the feels! 1476 0 5

Jean-Loup Arceneaux

April 20, 2020 5:36 AM

Not really by Jean-Loup Arceneaux

They had successfully got punch into two cups (it wasn’t too hard really, even with fingers, let alone with a wand to help out) when someone approached.

She was not familiar to Jean-Loup, but that was not saying much. His two week stay in the school had involved pretty limited social interaction. He was being put up in the hospital wing - it had several individual rooms, in case of the need for privacy or to contain an infectious disease, and it wasn’t like it was hard to reconfigure the world a little bit with just a wave of a wand. He was not likely to need the offer of Mr. Row’s couch short of an epidemic occurring.

There wasn’t a whole lot to do in the hospital wing. His current status as semi-student-somewhat-vague meant that he wasn’t able to access the medical records. Effectively these people were his peers (ish) and also no parents had signed off an intern being present. There was not a lot of prep that was worth doing when the world was winding down. He had cups of coffee with Ms. Kapoor, which she assured him was an important part of healing, and they talked theory, which improved both his medical knowledge and his English.

He was well aware that the staff had given him a roof out of sympathy or some sense of duty, rather than because there was any real work for him to do here. At least, not right now. If they could turn it into something a bit more proper, get him signed off by parents, it could work. His natural instinct to be giving opportunities and kindness was to work hard to prove himself - he didn’t want them to think he was coasting, or being somehow slack in his duties. But he was also conscious of making work for them by asking for more things to do, and was not sure where the balance lay between those things. He joined any existing language support sessions being run by Professor Skies but did not create new ones. He had tidied the medical supplies (they didn’t really need it). He had started drafting materials for the Quidditch team about health, exercise and common injuries. This was the most interesting and time-consuming part of his work, but given that he needed help to check his translations, it was a pretty pleasant way to spend parts of his days.

That was the other part of why he had not got to know a lot of people yet… Most of his self-appointed or staff-appointed work was quite solitary, and once he felt he had fulfilled his obligations and could clock off, there was one person who it was a priority to socialise with. Admittedly, this was balanced with working out in MARS, trying to be sociable with Dorian’s friends and trying to not be in Dorian’s space every second. Dorian’s friends were great. He wasn’t sure whether he’d find the time or the words to tell them that. It was hard enough sometimes to articulate his feelings in his own language, but he was so grateful. For the fact they looked after and loved Dorian. For the fact they’d accepted him.

It wasn’t any of the regular gang who approached as they were getting their punch though. It was a new girl. She looked short enough that there was no reason she should be familiar. Or perhaps he should have said ‘young enough’ because - he had thought it before, and he could not stop thinking it - socialising with Dorian’s chosen set was like being the only Beater on a team full of Seekers. Still, in Dorian’s case, it just made him cute and protectable. Little cute pocket sized boyfriend that he could just squeeze and fit right under his chin.

Dorian was smiling at the girl, but Jean-Loup was getting pretty good at telling his real smiles from his guarded ones, and it seemed like Dorian didn’t know her either. Or at least not well enough to be sure what kind of thing she was about to say. He wondered whether this feeling was ever going to go away. This need to guard his boyfriend after being themselves in public.

She threw a few words at him. Easy ones, about why he was here, and he nodded. Although it seemed to be Dorian she was really interested in. Or at least, who she addressed next. Which was more than logical and fine by Jean-Loup. He was very happy for his boyfriend to be spokesperson for their relationship. Although he was smiling too, at what she had said about their dance.

“Thank you,” Dorian smiled at the girl. “We think so too,” he added happily.

13 Jean-Loup Arceneaux Not really 1506 Jean-Loup Arceneaux 0 5

Lyssa Fitzgerald

April 20, 2020 7:30 AM

With permission young man. by Lyssa Fitzgerald

Lyssa was watching her brother and Cleo finish dancing, when she was startled to feel a brush on her sleeve and was about to turn around and scold someone when she saw a lively little jacket attached to a hand holding onto her suede jacket. Cocking her head to the side she saw a young boy feeling the sleeve of her jacket. She felt the need to scold the boy rising, but upon reflection, and after her initial reaction to Jessica, devised a different approach to the young boy. Maybe she would give him a button. No, she didn’t think he’d enjoy a button based on his jacket. Maybe a sash? Lyssa felt in her pants pocket. She could afford a sash with what was in her pocket.

The boy let go and twirled off, Lyssa followed the jacket as it moved around the room and came up behind him. She could see that his jacket was made up of many things. It reminded Lyssa of a song her mother liked with a multicolored coat. Like the song it looked like it looked like someone had gone to a vibrant thrift store and taken pieces from different jackets, shirts, pants and sewn them together to make one new, or new to the owner, jacket. She could see that some of the ribbons were covering places where there might be rips and other pieces covering what could be stains.

“Hey buddy?” Lyssa said when she was right next to him. She crouched down. Though she wasn’t by any means tall, she found she was taller than the boy, which was an odd experience.
“Hey. My name is Lyssa, I don’t think we’ve met. That’s a lovely coat you have. May I touch it?” She put out her hand palm up.

She was hoping to start a conversation with him by showcasing the actions she wanted him to take.

41 Lyssa Fitzgerald With permission young man. 1421 Lyssa Fitzgerald 0 5

Lyssa Fitzgerald

April 20, 2020 8:07 AM

Work using your words and mind. by Lyssa Fitzgerald

Her grandparents must either be wealthy or it was an heirloom. Either way, Lyssa smiled at Jessica. There was a reason Jessica looked like royalty, and it was possibly because she was. Lyssa wasn’t sure of the full politics of the Wizarding world, but could imagine that there might be Wizarding royalty somewhere in the world. Maybe Thailand or the Middle East? She knew that wasn’t the case in the US, and Jessica sounded fairly American. Still, Lyssa could have missed something in studying Wizarding history. It wasn’t the first time she was upset there wasn’t a social studies class in the school.

A look of something akin to pity moved quickly across Jessica’s face before being hidden behind a mask once again as Lyssa apologized. Lyssa thought it was odd, but she wasn’t one to think apologies were a sign of weakness. When real and meant something, she felt apologizing was a sign of taking responsibility for your actions. You couldn’t know the outcome of every action you took, and if you felt you’d done something to the detriment of other people it was better to apologize than to let your harm continue. Plus, you never knew who you might need in the future. Better to put out the fires on bridges before they burn down.

Then Jessica said something Lyssa was not expecting. This entire time Lyssa had assumed that Jessica was from the Wizarding world. But again, she had assumed something and acted upon it before ensuring it was the truth. Lyssa smirked a bit at the last part of Jessica’s comment.

“I’m sure some of them can be. Though, I feel we can introduce them to a bit more culture,” Lyssa sucked in her lips. Maybe Jessica was someone who would join the club she was thinking of starting. She had stated that she loved an audience.

“I was actually thinking of bringing a bit of Muggle influence into the school next year by way of a club, if you are interested. A speech and debate club to be specific. If I remember correctly, there was a poetry part. Whether there is or isn’t doesn’t matter, who will know the difference right? Would you be interested?”

41 Lyssa Fitzgerald Work using your words and mind. 1421 0 5

Heinrich Hexenmeister

April 20, 2020 10:51 AM

Shall we have a ball? [tag: Evelyn] by Heinrich Hexenmeister

Heinrich's dress robes were simple and dark blue. They looked a bit nicer than the usual school robes he normally wore, and there was even a bow tie, but the overall impression he gave off was basically the same one he always had: Here comes an Aladren. His hair was the same neat blond it always was; his shaving was, as always, perfectly assiduous (not that his thin blond stubble would be at all noticeable even if he missed a day, though he never did because he was a meticulous sort of person); and even his fingernails were clean - which was not unusual either, but they were perhaps a bit more well trimmed and buffed than on an ordinary day. Really, other than the robe, the most notable difference in Heinrich as he awaited Evelyn's arrival at their designated meeting place, was that he was smiling and he looked . . . almost happy.

He was kind of surprised to find he was actually looking forward to this ball. To dancing with Evelyn. To being her date for the night.

This expression of happiness magnified as he spotted his date. Her dress was very . . . vibrant . . . but it suited her. He bowed to her as she approached, offering her a short stemmed orange lily that she could attach to her dress or insert into her hair, or do whatever she wanted to do with it. Standing up straight again, he complimented, "You look amazing, Evelyn."

He offered his arm, and then pointed in the direction he'd seen some of the other prefects going, "I think prefects and dates go there." He lead the way, feeling like the luckiest guy in the school, because Evelyn had agreed to do this with him.

All too soon, they were being called out to the first dance, and then a little flurry of nerves settled in his stomach as he stepped out in front of the whole school, but maybe they were all watching Jasmine whose dress was bigger than three of Evelyn's or Cleo who had a Don't Touch Me sash across hers. Even if eyes drifted his way, they'd probably get caught on Evelyn. Merlin knew he was having trouble not getting his eyes caught on her.

He wasn't a well practiced dancer. He'd never been properly Society, even Before, but the Hexenmeisters had floated on the fringes of that elite lot of wizards, pure enough, and useful enough, that they weren't shunned or discounted out of hand. So he knew enough not to be an embarrassment to himself or Evelyn. They got through it with no loss of toes.

As the music changed to a new song and they were permitted to go be anonymous people again, he sighed in relief. "I am glad that part is over. Do you want a water?"

1 Heinrich Hexenmeister Shall we have a ball? [tag: Evelyn] 1414 0 5

Evelyn Stones

April 20, 2020 11:48 AM

We shall! by Evelyn Stones

Evelyn had gotten ready with Ness, which was nice because it meant she could let go of the remaining nerves of this Ball. She still hadn't told Ness about her conversation with Nathaniel, but she didn't want it to ruin tonight. So far, whoever his friend was hadn't confronted her, and tonight was not the night she wanted to be thinking about her father. So she and Ness got ready together and the conversation didn't go there. When they parted, Evelyn felt like she was in on a big secret. As with most of those who had gone shopping the previous Tumbleweed trip, no one had seen hers or Ness' outfits yet. Maybe that was perfectly normal, but Evelyn still felt like she was in on a secret because she knew what Ness was wearing and Ness knew what she was wearing and that was it.

Her happiness changed dramatically when she saw Heinrich. For one, he looked incredibly handsome. He always looked good, but something was different today. Evelyn realized it was because he looked happy. Very very happy. After so many days and meet-ups wondering if she was the cause of his sad face, she was exuberant to find that she might be the cause of his happy face this time.

Evelyn felt like a blown glass figurine, drifting towards him in her shiny blue and orange dress. Her arms were bare, which had been a topic of conversation, but she ultimately decided she wanted to show off the shape she'd gotten into recently and had been hiding under her robes. If she got a little chilly, she could figure that out later. Plus, her hair was down, so that provided some warmth for her neck and shoulders if things got too cold. She doubted they would though, as she suddenly felt very warm. That feeling increased when he complimented her.

"Thank you," she said softly, looking up at him and finding herself thinking again how safe her name sounded when he said it. She curtsied a little, surprised by the show of chivalry more than she probably should have been, and accepted the flower with wide eyes. It smelled amazing and it was orange and it was so so nice. Tonight was going to be perfect. "You do too. Very handsome," she added as she pinned the flower to the front of her dress. Smiling a little wryly as she accepted his arm, she took a deep breath and there she was, standing close to her date. There was another thing she hadn't thought she'd be up for. Holding on to somebody was a funny feeling because limbs are weird, but it meant you were close enough to share warmth and nice smells and things. And everyone got to see it! She felt like the luckiest girl at the Ball that Heinrich Hexenmeister, arguably the nicest, kindest, funniest guy she'd met, wanted to go to the Ball with her.

As they joined the group of prefects and their dates, Evelyn couldn't help smiling at the faces they all wore. Everyone seemed to be ranging from terrified and ready to puke to feeling like the belle of the ball with the best date in the world. It made Evelyn happy to think that everyone was so happy. She smiled a little at Gary, recognizing him of course. He looked like a prince, exactly perfect for his princess of a date. Evelyn was glad someone had gone that extreme in preparing for this thing, because she didn't have to worry about anybody watching her try to remember how to dance.

Then she saw Cleo. Her stomach rolled with fear and anger and a whole lot of other things that weren't directed at Cleo in any way but that Cleo had brought up for her. That girl, Evelyn decided, was the bravest human she knew. She wanted to be that brave. She also wanted to scream and run away and maybe that was the only way to be brave: be terrified, and then move on. A conversation she'd been mulling over pursuing with Marijke moved itself neatly to the "to-do" column of her mind and she turned her attention back to the dance and to her date. Before tonight, Cleo's sash would have been much harder to accept. It hurt to think about. But right now, she had a very warm, very nice smelling, very handsome date to hold on to her and make everything okay. She had a wonderful best friend out there somewhere, ready to support her to the end of the world. She was going to be okay, and it was the most she'd ever been sure of that.

The dance began and any thoughts of anything but Heinrich faded from Evelyn's mind. He was quite tall which meant Evelyn couldn't see much else anyway, because he blocked her view in front and she wasn't an owl. So she unseat accepted it, and gazed up at Heinrich, often chuckling as she stumbled over herself, and always smiling as she found him there the whole way through. To her surprise, and blushing pleasure, he was gazing right back at her.

When the dance was done and they could relax without feeling like they were on stage, Evelyn was happy to find that the spell wasn't broken. Everything seemed perfect still. Everything was perfect still. And Heinrich hadn't run away at the first opportunity.

"Water sounds good," she agreed, smiling. She considered thanking him again, for this, for everything, but if he hadn't yet realized how lucky she was, she wasn't going to be the one to put the thought in his head. As they made their way to the beverage table, Evelyn's eyes drifted again to Cleo and her now fully established booth. With sashes. Those wonderful dangerous sashes. She was surprised by how badly she wanted one, while also not wanting to give Heinrich any more nerves about being close to her than he may already have. Her permission, she realized, was granite. Tonight was full of unexpected things. "You're a good dancer!" she told him as they walked, clearly surprised. "Full of hidden talents, you are."

22 Evelyn Stones We shall! 1422 0 5

Jezebel Reed-Fischer

April 20, 2020 11:58 AM

But . . . you're . . . you know. by Jezebel Reed-Fischer

Dorian used 'we' and it was so casual and so easy. He said it while holding his boyfriend's hand after dancing his his boyfriend in front of the school. He said it with a look of absolute adoration and joy on his face, directed at his boyfriend.

Jezebel wasn't sure what to say. She knew for sure some of the things she wanted to say, but she was Crotalus enough to recognize that sometimes there was a time and place for not asking the questions that her more Aladren-suited tendencies made her want to. On the receiving end of her questions was a guy living life, and that was not only important to respect, it was helpful to remember. After all, it couldn't hurt to be friends with . . . a doctor.

But she couldn't quite brush the cobwebs out of the rest of her brain in order to ask anything else. She'd never seen anybody like this before, excepting their Professors Brooding-Hawthorne and they were hardly the sort to gaze wildly into each other's eyes and hold hands around the school most of the time. Plus they were grown ups. Jezebel was surprised to find out that you didn't have to be a grown up to date another girl or another boy.

"How did you two meet?" she asked, hoping and praying (although she wasn't sure if God wanted to hear these prayers? That was another topic for consideration another day) that she'd get her answers in a roundabout way. "I'm Jezebel by the way," she added to the taller boy, realizing he probably didn't know who she was. "Second year Crotalus."

22 Jezebel Reed-Fischer But . . . you're . . . you know. 1454 0 5

Felipe De Matteo

April 20, 2020 12:38 PM

Not touching seems like a good plan. by Felipe De Matteo

The Ball was a solar system: the pinks and blues and greens were planets, orbiting around the bright shining sun that had agreed to go with Felipe. He was happy just to be the closest planet to her. Still, there were other things that drew his attention and one of those was the sash that Cleo James was wearing. Felipe remembered talking to her at some feast once - he had decided that Americans really overhyped blonde girls, although now he regretted thinking such rude things - and he was surprised to see her making such a bold statement. But he also was sort of . . . amazed.

For far too long, Felipe's world had revolved around what was proper or not, and what was suitably aligned with family ideals or not. There was not hardly enough consideration for what was actually good or right. This had been a sticking point for him and Jessica, which he could now recognize to a degree. He didn't agree with her on the whole, but he didn't agree with what he'd said at the time either. There were other ways - maybe even better ways - to do this whole life thing. With Zara, Felipe thought he had started to learn more about that.

Also with Zara, he had found that his brain really appreciated the reminder that consent was important. This was not a thing he generally forgot because he was not a monster, but it was something that his pulse sometimes forgot. The problem was that no one had ever talked about it with him. All he knew was what seemed basically right to him on a logical view - don't do things to people if they don't want you to. That seemed pretty straightforward until he had had his bowtie straightened by a pretty girl who was maybe flirting and maybe not but definitely hadn't said what she wanted and he wasn't sure and he didn't want to do anything awful because he didn't understand.

So the next step was to go understand. Armed with a cup of punch - always nice to have a distraction - Felipe approached the table. He didn't feel silly for doing so and it didn't cross his mind that he might be doing something others wouldn't be willing to do. He had a thing he didn't understand and had found a resource that seemed willing to help, so he wanted to take advantage of that. Also, he was too far away to read the buttons and he wanted to know what they said.

"Hi," he said to Cleo and Parker as he approached. Not sure he wanted to open up with 'but how do you know,' he cocked his head at the buttons instead. "What do those say?" he asked. Well aware that this was not a vendor the way the Saturday Market had been, but a person's life the way the people he grew up with her, he looked a bit more sincerely at Cleo and Parker and dipped his head. "Thank you for doing this."

22 Felipe De Matteo Not touching seems like a good plan. 1434 0 5

Freddie Zauberhexen

April 20, 2020 2:10 PM

We are fabulous. [Ellie] by Freddie Zauberhexen

Freddie had wasted no time in getting ready because there was no amount of time that could have been a waste. His purple bowtie and waistcoat were perfectly wonderful and shiny, and that was all well and good, but getting his black pants and white shirt to be flat and un-wrinkled was harder. Remembering the incident with the severing charm, he decided not to magic it, and went about tidying himself up with Muggle means: steam and patience. Luckily, he'd been excited enough that he had generally kept his Ball outfit neater than the rest of his belongings and there wasn't too much wrinkle to de-. He'd gotten his hair to look decent, which was exciting but much less important than the fun purple stuff.

The big piece of his preparations, and the part that took the most time, was the flowers. It seemed like some follow-through would go well, but he was no fool; the flowers he'd given Ellie to ask to her to the Ball were pretty disappointing on the whole. He'd had a lot more time to think about the Ball than he had to think about asking someone to it, and he suspected this mattered more to his companion. He knew that they were young, probably too young to be calling each other "dates," but that didn't mean none of this mattered. This was their time to set a precedence and he didn't want his to be chopped up flowers. He also didn't really want to murder some real flowers just to give them to Ellie though, either. The nice thing about magic was that there was an in-between option.

He'd found the spell in one of his textbooks. It was one that he'd seen his father use for his mother before and it always made his mother happy. It was also well outside of his abilities. Malikhi Hill, though, was a fourth year, who also stood to gain from this exchange. Freddie had promised to tell Hana how nice he'd been - in an only mostly joking way - if he would pretty please with a cherry on top conjure some flowers for a corsage or something. Malikhi had agreed and they'd decided on white flowers since Freddie didn't know what color Ellie's dress was.

Now, he withdrew it from its hiding place in the top of his wardrobe - the only place he knew it wouldn't get smushed since he almost never cleaned up thoroughly enough to need to use the top of his wardrobe for storage - and left his dorm, making his way to where he would meet Ellie. He passed other students as he went, and felt himself getting more and more excited. Everyone looked so beautiful and everyone looked so fancy. He and Ellie were, of course, the best looking in the bunch, and he didn't even have to see her to know that. Okay, Hana was alright looking too, but she'd done weird stuff with her hair and she didn't really look like Hana like this.

He was already grinning when he saw Ellie, but it brightened tremendously. Seriously, why were all of his friends so nice and lovely? He wondered whether Ellie would help him learn how to paint his nails or something so he could at least be a little more on par with his fancy friends. Anya wasn't the same sort of fancy, but she had great hair and Freddie couldn't compete on that level. "You are so pretty," he told Ellie as he approached, offering the corsage. "I am not murdering flower. They are magic," he promised.

OOC - Malikhi's help approved by his author.

22 Freddie Zauberhexen We are fabulous. [Ellie] 1452 0 5

Malikhi Hill

April 20, 2020 2:11 PM

You look better than nice. by Malikhi Hill

Malikhi had gotten ready for the ball by himself which had been somewhat lonely and difficult, given that he wasn't able to get a second opinion of his appearance. His mother had sent him a lengthy letter filled with instructions on what to do with his hair and remind him to have a shower and not to eat with his mouth full, make sure that he danced and was polite and that he absolutely had to get some pictures and send them to her. Along with her letter, she had also sent her son a set of dress robes and a pink lily corsage to give to Hana. It was pretty and bright and Malikhi hoped that she would like it.

He had been instructed by his mother to comb his hair and use gel to keep it in place but after having slicked it back, he thought he looked like an utter idiot and had washed it again. His hair was just going to have to remain the same. His dress robes were black and fitted him well and there was even an inside pocket for his wand which he found useful. His mother had also included a pink bowtie which she had enchanted to tie itself perfectly, knowing that her son wouldn't have the faintest idea how to do such a thing.

He didn't think he looked perfect but he didn't look like his ordinary self which he supposed was a good thing. This wasn't an ordinary night. This was the night of the Ball and his first date. Nerves tingled through his body and he tried to squash them as he picked up his mother's letter that he'd left lying on his bed and read it through again quickly to make sure he hadn't missed anything. When he reached the last line, he had to swallow a lump in his throat.

"Your father would be very, very proud of you, Malikhi."

That was something Malikhi could only hope for as he tucked the letter away in his inside pocket with his wand, wanting to keep the sentiment physically close with him for the evening. Finally ready to meet up with Hana, he picked up the corsage and made his way downstairs.

He found Hana waiting for him outside the doors to Cascade Hall and felt a little guilty that he had made her wait. Wasn't it supposed to be the other way round? His father had always been ready before his mother. He shook his head and pushed that thought aside as he approached her, a smile on his face.

She looked so pretty in her pink dress and Malikhi thought that if she had a tiara on her head, she'd be the perfect princess. Malikhi felt very lucky to be going with her tonight. Suddenly a little self-conscious standing with her, his cheeks coloured when she complimented him.

"Thank you," he said, smiling. "You look..." he paused, trying to search for an adjective good enough to describe what he though. "You look amazing," he finished, before offering her the corsage. "This is for you."

20 Malikhi Hill You look better than nice. 1423 0 5

Parker Fitzgerald

April 20, 2020 2:29 PM

Not touching is impossible. Just ask for permission first. You could be surprised. by Parker Fitzgerald

When Lyssa had originally told him Remember, consent , Parker had assumed she was referring just to making sure he, well, remembered to ask permission. Not that Parker wouldn’t necessarily. He just thought Lyssa was reminding him that after everything Cleo had gone through with people not asking permission, and with Cleo’s powers, that consent was paramount.

What Parker had not realized was that Lyssa and Cleo had been talking. Not about him, he thought, but talking and planning non the less. And what amazing plans they were. Cleo seemed to be full of energy when she explained them to him. He couldn’t help but smile at the true genius and simplicity of her plan for the Ball. He was also amazed by her bravery. He knew there would be stares and probably more than a few whispers behind her back possibly some not so whispers to her face as well. The fact she was willing to do all of that by herself, given everything that she’d already experienced, if that wasn’t bravery, Parker was sure what was. He’d said as much that night in the garden, and that he’d be honored to stand beside her if she was ok with that.

All Parker had known about the Cleo's outfit was the sash. She’d been fairly clear about that and gave little indication as into what she was wearing. Parker had gotten his matching button from his sister, who’d merely had a smirk on her face when she handed it to him before bounding away. So when Parker saw Cleo with an amazing simple dress and flowers in her hair all he could do was smile softly. This woman, Cleo James, was something else. She looked stunning to him.

“Glad it matches the flowers in your hair,” Parker responded, when Cleo mentioned the tie. He saw the moondew mixed in and gave a small laugh. You can take gardeners out of the garden, but they never truly leave it, especially when together.

To start the dance, Parker made sure to verbally ask if she would like this dance and if it was ok if he could touch her while dancing. It only seemed appropriate given her sash. Then they danced.

It was terrible. So bad that Parker kept laughing and having to cough to make sure could continue with it. If they were going to dance again in front of people, Parker vowed that he’d try to take classes first, but for now it was… well, fun. Not graceful or elegant like some of the other Prefects, but it was fun. He figured it was for the better. If two prefects were dancing poorly in front of everyone, maybe others wouldn’t feel as self conscious and get out and enjoy themselves.

After the dance he followed Cleo back to where the table stood hidden and felt a wave of pride and anticipatory happiness as she turned around. The sunflowers on her ears danced in the light shining momentarily in his eyes. He felt like he could feel how Cleo's future was unraveling and he hoped he could be a part of it. Even if that meant he was there, standing behind her, asking for the dance, no matter how bad it was.

He heard a voice behind him and turned to find the young dapperly dressed Felipe. His heart fluttered briefly, he didn't know what to expect for their first interaction. The first people to arrive at places were either excited or upset. Parker couldn't tell which Felipe was.

“Evening Felipe,” Parker said. He saw the young man looking at the buttons. Parker looked over Felipe’s head and inclined his won it towards the heir to the De Matteo family estate with eyebrows raised.

Parker didn’t want to step on Cleo’s toes with this, and they hadn’t talked about how and who exactly was talking. He could see Felipe looking at the buttons and could feel a million unasked questions swirling in the look Mr. De Matteo was giving them as he asked his actual question. Parker knew what Felipe had asked, but could imagine that wasn't the actual question, since Cleo’s sash pretty clearly said what was on the button.

Was this going to be a verbal attack? How should the two of them handle something like that? After all, Parker could imagine Felipe had grown up with some of the more conservative views. Parker smiled at Felipe.

“Cleo? Would it be ok if I hold your hand while we answer Felipe’s question?”

Parker walked over to be closer to Cleo, but didn’t hold his hand out, he held them in front of him. Asking permission, like many questions, could be done while leading the other party. Parker wanted to show how to ask to the younger man. Still, this part was a bit scary. Parker did want to hold Cleo's hand, and didn’t know if Cleo would say yes. They'd locked arms as kids, and she'd grabbed his hand before, but never with more meaning behind it. If she said no though, he guessed they could still continue their conversation, using the no as an instructive example. But deep down, he was hoping she'd say yes.

Then Parker's shoulders relaxed. Felipe had thanked them both. So this wasn’t the start of an attack after all. Their first interactions at the booth were positive. Very positive. Parker looked over at Cleo while Felipe was bowing and gave her a wink.

Cleo James was an amazing woman. Though he knew this wouldn't always be the case, she already had heirs bowing to her.

41 Parker Fitzgerald Not touching is impossible. Just ask for permission first. You could be surprised. 1402 Parker Fitzgerald 0 5

Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

April 20, 2020 2:30 PM

You're nicer than better. No wait . . . by Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

He'd worn pink! For her, he assumed. And he had a flower! And it was pink! Johana Leonie didn't want to tell Kai that he was checking a lot of her life goals boxes, but she felt elated that he was. Also, she was happy to find that he was still him. He was still the messy-haired blushing boy she spent time studying with in the library. She wouldn't have been a bit embarrassed or sad to spend time with that boy tonight, but she was also very happy that they seemed to take it equally as seriously, at least in appearance. Johana Leonie had only ever wanted to be a princess, and she sort of felt like she might get to try that tonight.

"Thank you," she replied, smiling back at him and accepting the flower. It smelled amazing and she put it on her wrist to admire it. "Es ist schön," she told him. "It is much pretty."

They made their way into Cascade Hall and Johana Leonie gasped as she took it all in. It was so beautiful. It was perfect. And to her surprise, when she looked over at her date, she found that they fit right in. Just this once, just tonight, they were beautiful and perfect, too. Not sure what came over her, Johana Leonie did something unusual and acted without thinking; she pushed herself to her tip toes and leaned up to Malikhi, placing a sweet, friendly kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you that you asked me," she said softly.

Kisses, she knew, could mean a lot of things. She wasn't quite going for the sort of thing that her papa would do when he was tucking his children into bed, but she wasn't quite going for 'let's make out' either. She wanted to be clear that tonight didn't have to go anywhere if he didn't want it to, but if he did, it didn't have to be the last time either. Woof. That was a lot to try to say with one gesture. So she took his arm and looked around the room some more, glad for fancy lighting and a pink dress to hide her rosy cheeks as her brain spun around in circles, screaming. She was supposed to be a good girl, and she had no idea what she was doing.

22 Johana Leonie Zauberhexen You're nicer than better. No wait . . . 1432 0 5

Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne

April 20, 2020 2:33 PM

I am not used to help. by Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne

Tabitha wasn't expecting Mary's delight at her suggestion and that was making for two surprises in one night which was two surprises too many. She had fully expected to run into a wall of 'no' when it came to how they were going to spend their summer, especially with how she hadn't been able to argue with her wife in regards to her recent day-to-day and travelling through the Middle East and searching for Occamies would mean a lot of hiking and camping. It wasn't exactly the easiest of tasks but then, when had Tabitha ever picked something easy to do?

Relieved that she still appeared to have some say in her life, Tabitha smiled as she twirled Mary round in circle before her smile faded when Mary mentioned possibly taking Darius.

"Mary, I wouldn't take that oaf," she told her, matter-of-factly. "He's lovely and I adore him but he'd scare the entire Occamy Nest away with his clumsy big feet. Much rather take you, you have smaller feet."

It wasn't set in stone, the trip to the Middle East and Mary did have a point that Tabitha wasn't quite herself. There was something appealing about spending the summer in Greece, bathing in hot springs, walking along the beach and then at night, looking up at the night sky and finding constellations with a bottle of wine. It was all such a lovely thought but the Defence professor did need excitement.

"And," she continued, twirling Mary out before pulling her back in close. "If we find an Occamy Nest and witness hatching, we'd be able to get you some fresh Occamy eggs to use for Felix Felicis. Better than buying from an apothecary."

20 Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne I am not used to help. 1417 0 5

Malikhi Hill

April 20, 2020 2:50 PM

I don't think we need words to describe how we feel. by Malikhi Hill

The air tonight felt magical but then, of course, they were both going to a ball in a magical school so there was probably literal magic in the air but Malikhi didn't mean in that sense. He meant the metaphorical. Everything felt like a dream. A completely lovely dream that Malikhi never wanted to wake up from. He had a wonderfully pretty girl on his arm who liked him and he liked her and it was as simple as that. They didn't even need to define it. Malikhi liked simple. Malikhi liked Hana. He liked her a lot.

They walked into Cascade Hall together and while Malikhi appreciated how amazing everything looked, his eyes were much happier looking at Hana and the cute faces she was making as she took everything in. When she looked at him, he smiled wide.

Malikhi didn't think that the night could become any better until he felt Hana's soft lips on his cheek. His eyes widened and his cheeks flushed pink and one might've thought he was embarrassed. However, the huge grin on his face said very much otherwise. It was a lovely thing to receive a kiss on the cheek, a beautiful gift and Malikhi rather hoped that she would do it again, whether that was now or in the future. Either way, he wanted to feel the warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach again.

"I wouldn't have asked anybody else," he told her honestly. Partly because he didn't know any other girl as well as Hana (apart from Evelyn but that had long since become a no-go) and also because he couldn't imagine having gone with anybody else. Hana was lovely and she was perfect and Malikhi hadn't felt this happy before.

He liked feeling her hand on his arm and he led her over to the edge of dancefloor. "Would you like to dance, Hana?"

20 Malikhi Hill I don't think we need words to describe how we feel. 1423 0 5

Isabella Harrington

April 20, 2020 3:15 PM

Well, this feels rather lonely. by Isabella Harrington

Bella felt rather self-conscious walking into Cascade Hall alone. She rather hoped that nobody noticed her slipping in. She knew that people could be judgemental and didn't want people to think badly of her because she was alone. She had never thought of herself as ugly but perhaps she wasn't to the tastes of the boys at Sonora. It was more likely that it was simply because she didn't know anybody all that well, having kept mostly to herself during her time at the school. Something now she was currently regretting.

Despite going solo, Bella had still made the effort with her appearance. She wouldn't have dreamed of doing otherwise. If somebody had asked her, she would've dressed to impress. Now, she was dressing for herself (and a bitter part of her hoped to cause a bit of jealousy too).

She was dressed in a rich purple high-neck dress. Her bodice was embroidered lace that had been heavily embellished with glittering beads. At her waist, layers of floating chiffon spilled to the floor, just hiding a pair of her low-heeled dancing shoes. She had managed to twist her long brown hair up into a low bun, securing it with glittery hair slides. She thought she looked pretty. It was just a shame that she'd only done it for herself.

She'd spotted the photographer heading in her direction and a swift glare at him informed him that she did not want her picture taking. She didn't need reminding that she had been at the ball alone. Bella made her way over to a free chair in a corner of the hall and sat down, folding her hands together and resting them in her lap. This was going to be a rather boring evening if all she did was sit. She just hoped that somebody would come and talk to her.

20 Isabella Harrington Well, this feels rather lonely. 1435 0 5

Ivy Brockert

April 20, 2020 3:34 PM

Why thank you, Mr. Mordue by Ivy Brockert

Ivy had spent the bulk of the year worried. Yes, she'd gottten Head Girl and felt extremely good about it. At least her classmates liked her even though the staff didn't. However, this was also the year of applying to college. Now, the seventh year knew that not all pureblood girls-or even boys-went to college but she wanted to. Even though she was a Teppenpaw, she had a massive Aladren streak and loved to learn too.

And as Ivy was an excellent student, she had chosen the highest institutes of magical learning to apply to, Dofmore being her top choice. After much fretting, Ivy had been accepted. Unfortunately, she was going there alone. Peyton and Vlad, obviously, would still be at Sonora and even after that, she doubted they'd try for Dormore. Peyton, admittedly, was a bit insecure and probably wouldn't consider top tier colleges. Plus, Connor was going to Pumine and Peyton probably would want to be with him.

Not only that, but it was a ball year, and as Head Girl, part of her duties included the opening dance. Earlier in the year, Ivy and Peyton had discussed what a terrible unfair tradition it was and that it should be done away with. Usually there was not a sufficient number of guys per girl and that was without taking into account the rules of pureblood society. Of course, Ivy would be fine with dancing with an "improper" guy for one dance if it came down to that or being humiliated.

Fortunately, Nathaniel Mordue had come to her rescue. They knew each other from the paper but Ivy had rather expected him to ask someone closer to his age, such as Caitlin Pierce. She smiled at him. "It's all right. You did perfectly fine. " Ivy considered his question. "I think I'd like some punch."

11 Ivy Brockert Why thank you, Mr. Mordue 394 0 5

Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

April 20, 2020 4:52 PM

Even after all this time? (If you say "always," so help me . . .) by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Mary grinned, feeling a bit like a child who had just found out they were their parent's favorite, despite years of suspecting as much. "I thought you might prefer to take me," she beamed. "But I didn't want to make you feel stuck with me. I know I'm not half as good in those situations as Darius is. Although," she glanced down at her feet, "I am quieter."

Talk of occamy eggs made her wheels turn. She hated the idea of how much murder was involved in potions making, and she was working hard to find better alternatives. But . . . there were also uses for such things and this was undoubtedly better than the sort of processed, mechanical, big name collection that she would end up purchasing from. "If we see the hatching," she pointed out wryly, "then there won't be any eggs left to collect. I would be interested in collecting unfertilised eggs if possible," she admitted, thinking again. It was one of the considerations she'd been making for more ethical practices. After all, even a vegetarian would eat eggs in most cases. "I'm excited," she smiled, feeling content. "And I'm happy that you want to go on an adventure. Adventures with you make me happy." Truth be told, adventures with Tabitha were also exhausting and dirty affairs, and not in the way Mary liked. She was a traveler at heart, but she certainly was not a camping, climbing, trailblazing sort. She appreciated Tabitha's great store of patience though, and the fact that she would want to spend so much time studying them after she got them.

"You'll have new sketches," she cooed happily. "When do they hatch? It would be nice to get in some time for a bath afterwards. Maybe Southwest Asia and then Greece?"

22 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne Even after all this time? (If you say "always," so help me . . .) 1424 0 5

Sadie-Lake Chalmers

April 20, 2020 6:42 PM

The Drawbacks of Being a Wallflower by Sadie-Lake Chalmers

#TwoPieceDress was the latest seriously stupid thing to have worked its way into Sadie’s life and vocabulary against her will. What the heck was this ridiculous trend?? A dress was one piece. That was what made it a dress. A ‘two piece dress’ was a matching skirt and top, for crying out loud - apparently, in this case, slightly cropped tops by default - and people did not wear matching skirts and tops to balls, they wore DRESSES. Whole ones.

The ‘dress’ her mom had sent her was awful in every single way. They had some kind of influencer hell wedding to go to over summer which meant that there was going to be no escaping the click of cameras, and which meant brands were perfectly keen to throw goods at Sadie again. She had made several appeals to her mother, owling her several magazine cut outs of things she would have liked to wear, but either her mom wasn’t listening or literally didn’t know how to shop something that wasn’t a clickable link, because it had been something else entirely that she had unwrapped before the ball.

Besides the fact it was a stupid separate, and would show her stomach (even just a tiny line of it but no one else was going to be doing that), it was also blue. This did not come as a surprise. When your mother unceremoniously jammed the word ‘Lake’ into your given name, people loved to send you blue stuff. This one had the added horror of ruffles, which to her read as waves. People who were on board with this #TwoPieceDress concept were calling it a #Mermaid look. Even if no one here knew to make fun of her for wearing blue or call her Splish-Splash, Sadie still didn’t want to. And nor did she want her stomach showing. It was so trashy, and it made her look like some brat off ‘Dance Moms’ because no one dressed this way outside of a salsa contest.

Luckily, the dress her mother had sent was not what Sadie was wearing right now. Or rather, it was, but it had some key differences. She honestly thought she might seriously love being a witch. A quick transfiguration had lengthened the top and joined it to the skirt. The lace of the top wasn’t too bad, once there was more of it. She wished she could have done more about the open back but she didn’t dare fiddle too much, and a pashmina could hide that just as well as magic. She had colour change charmed it all to delicate peach, and then it really did look so much better. She didn’t mind the ruffles once they were less wave-like. If it didn’t go back to how it had been, they could just claim she’d grown out of it or that it hadn’t fit right and get a new one or something. The bigger risk was it wearing off beyond the end of the evening. She was feeling some serious Cinderella nerves as she stepped out of Crotalus, but at least she didn’t look like some NSFW Elsa fan art had thrown up its outfit onto her.

She actually felt… pretty? Jessica had helped her lightly curl her hair. With a peach dress, your choice for accents and accessories was aqua blue for contrast or gold to compliment. Sadie was very much a compliment not a contrast kind of girl. Her heeled gladiator sandals matched her pashmina, both in a delicate shade of gold that was more a shimmery beige that full on bling. Her make up was pretty simple. She had followed Jessica’s cues without trying to sound like she was copying, and she seemed to be planning to go in for minimalism even for the ball, in spite of her family having a cosmetics foundation. That was a relief.

Jessica had tried to steer her towards Mara, who was offering cosmetic help, but Sadie had insisted that she wanted to support Arvale - not that they exactly needed her, but it seemed like the friendly thing to do. This had resulted in sample sized copies of nail varnish and lipgloss and a tinted moisturiser, which hadn’t been at all what she’d been angling at (in that she would have gladly paid) and which firmly assured her Jessica was just the best human being ever. She felt so confident stepping out in things Jessica had chosen. She was sure Mara was great and all, if she had the confidence to run that service, but Sadie was grateful to have the opinion of a cosmetics heiress instead.

She made her way to the hall, heels clicking as she walked. The prefect dance looked like the world’s most mortifying experience, and she was very glad to be able to stay on the sidelines. Well, sort of. Once it was over, everyone started moving about and just… clicking into place. She wasn’t sure whether by pre-arrangement or by confidence, but she had neither. Everyone else seemed to be moving in this smooth clockwork, like they knew where they were going and who they were planning to talk to, and she still had no idea how to insert herself into that, worried that she’d be a spanner in the works instead of part of the well-oiled machinery.

People were grouping, and she could see it was only going to get harder and harder to find someone to talk to. Oh well. Perhaps she’d just sit at the side unnoticed for an hour and then slink off. At least that way, it wouldn’t matter if the magic on her dress didn’t hold. Except that sounded kind of… tragic. It wasn’t like she didn’t want friends. She just… wasn’t sure how to do it.

She drifted towards the edge of the room, hugging her pashmina around her shoulders.There was another girl off to the side. Of course, she could be waiting for someone. She looked pretty and elegant and her date could be busy fetching punch for her cos that was what dates did. Or she could both be on her own. The trouble was, she had no idea which.

“Hey?” she asked, only just loud enough that it wasn’t drowned out by the music. She rested her hand on the chair two down from the girl, rather than right next to her, hedging her bets. “Is this seat taken?” she asked.

OOC - mentions of Jessica approved by her author. Original dress can be viewed here, but please imagine it joined together, in peach, and being worn by someone who desperately wants to blend into the background.

13 Sadie-Lake Chalmers The Drawbacks of Being a Wallflower 1480 0 5

Jessica Hayles

April 20, 2020 7:35 PM

To what end, though? by Jessica Hayles

Interest flickered in Jessica's dark eyes as Lyssa mentioned bringing a little bit of their culture to Sonora. This was an idea which had occurred to her before, but not recently. When it had occurred to her, she had been in her first year and had made up her mind to learn magic so she could use it against this world, to get back at it for taking away her life, and then to civilize this place whether it wanted to be civilized or not. Since she had realized that the Dark Arts were not something she wanted to touch with a ten-foot pole, though, and that she had no other realistic ways to affect change here when she was an outsider in a society where connections were everything, she had given up the idea.

She had not considered trying to simply present the outside world to these people, though, since she had discovered how very alien this world was back in her first year. What had happened at the Welcoming Feast back in September had also illuminated another problem: that this culture did not want anything to do with hers, and wasn't too shy about saying so.

"Declaiming," she said, rather than directly answering the question straightaway. "I think that was what they used to call the poetry part. Declaiming things." An odd word - it sounded more like it should mean the person doing it was repudiating something, relinquishing a claim, than like it should mean reciting poetry. As if the act of creating physics out of a poem released it from the ownership of its author. That was true of any means of sharing work, of course, to some extent, but only one put such a telling word to the act.

"It's an interesting idea," she acknowledged, getting back to the point. "What exactly are you thinking? Do you want to debate issues from their world with them, or issues from our world in front of them, or...?"

She was not sure that their world and our world were really the correct terms to use anymore, but since she couldn't think of anything better on the fly, she used them despite her uncertainty - her increasing awareness that they were neither fish nor fowl, so to speak. They were misfits, outcasts, people who belonged nowhere and were wanted by nobody, now. Perhaps that had always been true for Lyssa, but it hadn't for Jessica. She had had a place, which was one of the things which made her current lack of any place to belong so damned unsettling. She liked order, liked knowing where she belonged in a system, and she had spent a long time, now, without a place, without a purpose. She had tried to enjoy it this year, and it had its perks, but at the end of the line...writing poetry was what she loved to do, but it wasn't a purpose, something that could tell her which moves to make when. Even in her own world, it would have gotten her no further than Iowa. Here, it was nothing more than a way to pass the time. Could someone realistically spend an entire lifetime just...passing time? Did anyone ever really do anything else?

16 Jessica Hayles To what end, though? 1442 0 5

Morgan Garrett

April 20, 2020 7:58 PM

I know, right? by Morgan Garrett

Morgan blinked, surprised by a compliment from out of nowhere. She guessed it was sort of relevant to the things they had been saying? The prefects and their dates were either impressive or overhyped, but they definitely were all wearing fancy clothes. When people were dressed up fancy, they usually expected compliments. Morgan was not dressed particularly fancily, but she was at least not dressed as normal. It took a few leaps of logic to get to the point of the follow-up remark seeming logical, but...

"Thanks," she said with her habitual grin. "You look pretty in red," she added.

Part of her brain wanted to call it a shade of coral, because when she compared it in her mind to the long-memorized stickers on the bottom of Anna's old lipsticks, it was leaning a little too orangey to be a true red, but not orangey enough to be orange. Precise shade names, though, were the kind of thing Grace Wilkes - the taller, slender, older, elegant socialite-actress she sometimes considered becoming, one of several personae and stage names she might adopt someday - would know, and the Easter Egg hunt nature of her current outfit had her mired inextricably into being plain Morgan Garrett tonight. Plain Morgan Garrett wasn't really the sort to know that, somehow. Even Grace Garrett - who might contemplate, at least for a few minutes, a pixie cut, if she ever got thin enough - would do better than that.

"It's really nice to see more colors in here at all," she said with another look around the room. "I get so bored of everyone always wearing green-green-green all the time, don't you? Even black looks less boring than usual," she joked. She had never liked black, sacrilege against the wardrobe of St. La Audrey though that was. At least, she thought, Jackie - who, unlike Grace, had shared Morgan's dark hair - had not liked it either, to the point that she'd had to wear an old-old-old suit to President Kennedy's funeral because Cassini had not allowed her near anything black in years and years.

16 Morgan Garrett I know, right? 1470 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

April 20, 2020 8:12 PM

At least less is riding on your shoulders. by Leonor De Matteo

Leonor raised an eyebrow and frowned a little at Morgan. She had been doing so well until she started talking more.

"It's coral," she replied. Of course she looked great in it, that wasn't the point. Red was Crotalus' color and she would about die before walking into the Ball as a shining beacon of Felipe's stupid house.

Looking around the room, though, Leonor couldn't help agreeing with Morgan on the topic of color. She had never really understood wearing black and would prefer green to that any day, but that wasn't to say that she was thrilled about wearing green all the time either. At least she looked decent enough in it, but it would have been nice to mix it up. Or wear House colors. Something. Anything to make them different.

At the end of the day, that's all anyone really wanted, wasn't it? To be different? To stand out as the best among their peers? Leonor certainly did, although she had already achieved as much and that was plenty clear. She carried herself with ease and ignored the questions and what-ifs and buts and every other little doubt that threatened to bubble under her facade. She was perfect, and she wasn't going to let any imperfections ruin that.

"It is," she agreed out loud, having sufficiently considered Morgan's point. "Is there even a reason we have to wear the same thing as each other?" Standing out took that much more effort when clothes weren't any way to do it. Sure, some girls managed jewelry or makeup, but that wasn't Leonor's thing. Or at least, it wasn't yet. But uniforms meant the only way she was going to stand out was if she tried to, and standing out for her 'best efforts' or anything were not what she wanted to be known for. Of course, Felipe probably found her a bit trying. That was a different sort of thing. "Nice to have pockets, though," she frowned again, wondering where she would have stashed her wand had she not gotten a thigh holster for it. Such things were important for any young lady to have and her parents had made darn sure she knew it was her responsibility to be ready for anything. If she was meant to be the protector and carer of a bunch of Muggles, the least she could do was be any good at it.

22 Leonor De Matteo At least less is riding on your shoulders. 1471 0 5

Mara Morales

April 20, 2020 8:38 PM

What were you expecting? by Mara Morales

OOC: Mara's narration includes discussion of race and class here.

Josie looked as though she had a pain somewhere, but she sounded almost as enthusiastic as usual. Mara smiled at her roommate, wondering what it was like to be that animated about things. She was not, she thought, an unhappy person. She was just half-rich white people and - maybe even more crucially - half-Colombian.

One of the things that annoyed her mom most was the assumption that because she and her daughters were Latin American, they were necessarily loud and colorful and happy all the time. Colombia, according to her mother, was not like that, at least not in the llanos, the inland plains where her mother had been born. Colombia, according to her mother, could make Georgia look positively egalitarian and free from race issues - and Mama would know, as she was mestiza herself, of mixed Spanish and indigenous ancestry, and with enough of the indigenous element that it showed. Mestizos like her family were considered second highest of the castas, but to criollos - the South American-born descendants of the Spanish - second place could be a long, long way from first, which was one reason why mestizos wished so much to marry criollos, or at least have criollo godparents for their children - to tie their own families to the powerful networks of connections and influence commanded by those higher up the social ladder. The best chance of acquiring such prizes - the major legal way to change one's social station at all - came with recessive genes, but it did not hurt to dress somberly, behave somberly, and speak only pure Castilian Spanish - so those were things her mother did, and had taught Mara and Lola to do, insisting, far more than Dad, on them demonstrating the virtue of obedience.

She had met her grandparents, once, when Dad had flown them up to Atlanta for Lola's baptism, and her grandmother had nearly shocked her. Abuela was from the coast, where they were more laid back, more open - and Abuela had not seemed to speak Spanish right, at least not all the time. Both her grandfather and her mother had been embarrassed when Abuela did that, and had fussed with and at her, though her mother had stopped after Abuela had told her that she was in no position to be judged by -

Well, Mara had not actually understood the word her grandmother had used, though now, she thought she could guess what it had meant. Her mother had had children with a white man, but not in the proper way. This was not, however, something which was discussed, ever - one of the rare things where even Mara did not want to ask the questions, push the issue, find out the messy details. There were some things even she could see were better off left unsaid.

"Thanks, Josie," she said, looking down at her outfit for a moment. "It is pretty comfortable - especially by fancypants standards." Mara had been crammed into enough church dresses in her life to know this. In those things, one had to wear slips and pantyhose. Mara did not enjoy either of those things at all. "Yours looks good, too," she added, though she was a little surprised anyone would voluntarily wear green again when they didn't have to for once. "Have you ever been to anything like this before?" she asked.

16 Mara Morales What were you expecting? 1472 Mara Morales 0 5

Josephine Clyde

April 21, 2020 3:28 AM

An explosion of white...Isn't that the typical party color? by Josephine Clyde

Should she tell Mara about Minnie’s wedding? Technically, it counted as something “like this”. The Ball was a fancy social event where people were expected to dress nicely, eat food and socialize with other people who’d come to do the same thing. Minnie’s wedding had been the same way. She wasn’t sure if the wedding had had a theme, but it had definitely had a color. Everything at that wedding had been white. White roses, perfectly decorated white cake, silver utensils and clear glasses. The only splash of color had been the guests. Everyone had looked so odd, like someone had dropped a bunch of paint on a clean piece of laundry. Even her father had worn an all white tuxedo. She had been allowed to wear whatever she wanted, so she’d worn the greenest thing she could find. It had been a ridiculously vivid blouse that her mother had bought for her, but she’d never gotten to wore. Never got to show her. As a small child she had firmly believed that her mother was somewhere watching her. So, on Minnie and Owain’s new day of happiness she wore that green blouse and represented her mother.

That was why she’d gone for the green dress at the store. Some weird part of her brain had connected fancy events to the color green and it was the only thing that had really caught her eye anyhow. It wasn’t anywhere near as colorful as that wedding blouse and that was for the best. She didn’t want to stick out. This dress was silky smooth and leafy green, it stopped around her calves and it had pockets. If it weren’t for the shiny quality she would have been willing to wear it again and the fact that she was able to come to that conclusion satisfied her. On special occasions she could still wear green. It was weird. She hated their school robes with a passion, but it might have been because they were a part of the uniform. It was required, but this could be a choice and she was happy that she could choose green without feeling sad or angry or whatever that complicated thing had been at Minnie’s wedding.

“My step-mother’s wedding two-ish years ago. It was magical.”

Josie didn’t feel like saying anything else about it. Best to shift the focus away from her and onto Mara. She took a closer look at her fellow first year’s outfit: jewelry, some makeup and…heels?
“Gosh, are you wearing heels? My mother said I should wait until I’m older to wear heels because they make your feet hurt. Where did you get these? Are they comfortable? Do you like them? They don’t hurt? And are you wearing makeup? Wow! My father said I’m not allowed to wear makeup until I’m in high school.”

She pouted a little, picked up a brownie on her plate and started nibbling on it.
“Mara, you’re so cool. Like in a nice way. You’re mature! And elegant.” Josie hummed, “Must be nice. I still feel like I’m in elementary school sometimes.”
One glance at her little black flats further confirmed that feeling. Next to Mara's elegance she felt like a little ugly duckling playing dress-up.

44 Josephine Clyde An explosion of white...Isn't that the typical party color? 1477 0 5

Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

April 21, 2020 10:16 AM

Whewwww by Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

"Yes," Johana Leonie said excitedly as they neared the dance floor. "Much!"

She wasn't sure how to put into words how much she loved dancing. It was a huge part of her life at home, although that sort of dancing was a bit different than this, and she had never danced with a boy as her date before. She'd danced with her brother, her father, and boys from town, but they'd been kids then mostly. Or else, they'd grown up together. Growing up with someone tended to have the side effect of making them a billion times less attractive as a potential partner, although coming to Sonora at age eleven meant they were sort of still growing up together here.

She let Kai lead them, unsure of what they were going to do. She certainly didn't want to make him feel bad if he was not a good dancer, and most of the boys at school seemed not to be, but she also didn't want to be rude or unladylike by trying to lead herself. It was easy enough to just follow whatever Kai had in mind.

"In my home, we dance much," she told him, feeling sparkly. She wondered whether he'd seen her in the concert her first year, when she'd had a perfectly lovely dance piece with the rest of Teppenpaw House. They were in classes together then, too, although she hadn't been paying much attention. She'd been mostly by Hilda's side, or with her roommates, or otherwise just trying to figure out what the heck all those English words meant. She'd been honored to have a dance solo at the time, because it felt like maybe everyone thought she was smart and skilled, even if she couldn't express it very well. And Kir had been so kind and made sure she didn't land on the floor or anything. It was one of Johana Leonie's favorite memories, although this was coming in close too. "I like it." She beamed up at Malikhi, feeling perfectly content.

OOC - I don't remember whether you would have been around to see the posts from the concert? Kir wrote about Johana Leonie's dance, and you can see it here if you're curious.

22 Johana Leonie Zauberhexen Whewwww 1432 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 21, 2020 3:06 PM

You're quite welcome, Miss Brockert. by Nathaniel Mordue

Nathaniel generally disliked his diagnoses and all the implications that went with them, but there were times when even he had to admit that his brain was probably not behaving properly. Thinking that a reassurance he had done 'perfectly fine' - after he had been self-deprecating about his own skills or lack thereof, even - meant he had probably actually done terribly felt like one of those things he should probably tell Dr. Greene about, though he knew he would not. He tried not to volunteer any information outside of what she asked about or which he admitted when she goaded him into losing his temper, and he could not see why his tendency toward paranoia - an old friend - was something she would be able to annoy him into talking about.

He smiled at Ivy again as she requested punch rather than another turn around the floor. "Of course," he said. "I'll go get us both a cup."

It was a relief to retreat to the refreshments table, where he was semi-anonymous in the throng. He hated having people look at him in particular; he had never been fond of it, always worrying that any attention directed toward him meant the person was curious about a member of the family which had not been interesting enough to hold his father's attention, but now that his mother had also fallen from social grace, he found the experience horrific, when it didn't make him angry instead. Tonight...he had known he was one of several prefects, that all the eyes weren't even on him no matter how much it felt like they were, so it had not been as bad as it could have been, but it had still been nerve-wracking, and he was glad to have a moment to recover his composure.

Procuring punch, he waded back through the throng to find Ivy again, careful not to spill either drink. Finding her, he proffered her cup with a slight bow.

"A toast," he said, lifting his own cup slightly. "To your last full day at Sonora. Cheers. Do you have plans for the outside world?"

16 Nathaniel Mordue You're quite welcome, Miss Brockert. 1412 0 5

Morgan Garrett

April 21, 2020 3:19 PM

And I try to ignore anything that is. by Morgan Garrett

"It's coral."

Leonor sounded, she thought, more displeased than the imprecision really warranted. Perhaps she had a fixation on color - though in that case, shouldn't she have called Morgan's dress periwinkle or sky or something? In any case, though, she was displeased, and Morgan had been trained since birth to more or less defer to anyone who seemed irritated - to their faces, anyway. What she actually did afterward was her own business, but politeness demanded conciliatory behavior to people's faces.

"Sorry," she said. "There's so many different kinds of color names, aren't there?"

She nodded to the point about pockets. "Pockets are great," she agreed. "Uniforms, though - I don't know why Sonora does it, but the schools at home that have uniforms, they say it's so people can't wear anything that might distract other people, or so people can't make fun of you if you don't have the cool clothes and they do. Maybe they think the same thing here? Or it's just tradition," she acknowledged. "This school is pretty old. A lot of stuff happens just because it's always happened, I reckon." People at home could sure get bent out of shape when anyone did anything that went against How Things Had Always Happened, and everything she knew about the magical world suggested they were even worse about that than Kentuckians.

16 Morgan Garrett And I try to ignore anything that is. 1470 0 5

Mara Morales

April 21, 2020 3:43 PM

I guess if that's your thing. by Mara Morales

Everything about the two sentences Josie used to respond to Mara's question was intriguing, Mara thought. First of all, calling it her stepmother's wedding, rather than her father's wedding or her father and stepmother's wedding, seemed a bit peculiar, somehow. Was it an ex-stepmother who had married someone else? And then there was the comment about it being magical - did that mean in the oh-weddings-fancy sense, or in the literal, wizardy sense? What were wizard weddings like? It had not occurred to Mara to wonder about this before, and she cursed the limited amount of time she had left in the library for this year, as Josie promptly steered the conversation away from that.

"It's just some lip gloss," she protested when accused of wearing make-up. "At home, I think - like - everybody wears this. I got the shoes at home, too - shoes that...do this - " she flattened her hand as far as it would go into a plane, then tilted it at an angle , fingers pointing to the floor, wrist elevated - "sometimes they're more comfortable. Flat feet," she explained.

She flushed involuntarily as Josie went on, half-flattered and half-embarrassed to be called cool, mature, and elegant in the space of a few seconds. This was the kind of thing she thought people said to Jessica, not to her. Usually, when people commented on her, it was to call her a know-it-all or else - strangely - to tell her she didn't know anything about what she was talking about. Or it was Mamá calling her disrespectful for asking too many questions, or arguing with either of her parents about something.

"I'm pretty glad we're not in elementary school," she said. "The people are cooler here," she added with a smile for her roommate. She supposed that technically she was telling the truth - she had not been in a single real verbal altercation with anyone since she got here. Wizard culture, she thought, seemed even more devoted to the Cult of Polite than the South - which did, she supposed, make a kind of sense, with literally everybody walking around armed and trained in combat with their weapons, basically. You insulted somebody, you ended up with your feet on the wrong legs, or your face purple or something. She sometimes found it a tiny bit unnerving, especially since she knew that there were other things lurking just beneath the surface in some cases that could come out unpredictably, but she supposed she was getting along with other kids the best she ever had in her life. "Honestly, though, I just picked this because I hate pantyhose," she confided. "At home, you put those things on in the summer - don't matter how much they air condition the church, it's still awful. It's probably different here, but I didn't want to risk it, and Mamá would not let me wear any dress barelegged. She's pretty strict about clothes."

She picked at her own food. "Can't believe it's the end of the year already," she said. "What do you think you'll do this summer?"

16 Mara Morales I guess if that's your thing. 1472 0 5

Isabella Harrington

April 21, 2020 4:23 PM

I am normally not the wallflower... by Isabella Harrington

It seemed that rather than making anybody wish they were with her, Bella found herself envious of the couples on the dance floor. Sure, their footwork was absolutely atrocious and some of them were completely out of time with the music but all of them looked like they were having fun and a good time, two things that Bella wasn't having. She'd be having more fun reading about Charms theory which was saying something because while Bella often understand the theory, that didn't mean it was any easier to make one's way through.

It was really teaching her something, being alone at the Ball. That maybe her focus should shift a little from studying, homework and dance practices to making friends. She wouldn't need to dedicate a lot of time to such a thing but it would mean that hopefully, she wouldn't be alone in the future or in any other particular instance. It would be nice, for example, to sit in the library with someone, discussing theory or ideas with them. It would be nice not to have her own thoughts to chew on. It would be nice not to be lonely.

It was a new thing for Bella to be flying solo. There had always been somebody to talk to back home at dance competitions, whether that had been Alex (before he became a stubborn moron) or the other competitors. That never meant that she'd go easy on them because Bella always performed her best and her determination meant that she never took her eyes off the gold medal at the end but socialising and rivalry banter always made things more interesting and fun.

It was her determination now that helped her maintain a good posture and an alert face. She would absolutely not let her boredom show on her face lest she appear rude and deter people from conversing with her. There surely had to be somebody else here who was alone? There were a lot of students in this school. She doubted everybody had a date and one of those lonely other people would have to drift her way eventually. That was surely just the laws of probability.

For now, she focused her eyes on the footwork of the couples who danced by, mentally taking notes. Despite being on a whole different level to these people, it would help her training in reminding herself of all the little details that could easily be forgotten. It helped keep her mind occupied and away from the boredom. She had been so focused, she'd nearly missed somebody greeting her.

She blinked and looked to the side, her eyes landing on a girl (who, Bella privately thought, was really rather pretty and the dress she was wearing was gorgeous) who seemed to be asking if the chair was free.

"Oh, they're all free," Bella told her. "Choose whichever one you want."

It sounded a bit blunt and careless leaving it at that and perhaps it was worth trying to make conversation. Even if it was only temporary, for the moment, Bella had somebody to talk to.

"I'm Bella Harrington, by the way," she added, making sure to offer what she hoped was a kind smile.

20 Isabella Harrington I am normally not the wallflower... 1435 0 5

Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne

April 21, 2020 4:48 PM

Always... (Just kidding!) Time doesn't change everything. by Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne

Tabitha let out a light laugh, a sound that sounded a little bit foreign to her own ears. She hadn't laughed in quite a while but it felt good. It was nice to know that, in spite of everything that had happened, she could still laugh and that it wasn't something that had been lost forever. Not that, of course, one did permanently lose their laughter... It just took a special moment for it to return and being in Cascade Hall, dancing to no music with Mary in her arms and talking of the future? This definitely ranked as a special moment.

They had slowed to a sway which made it easier to talk and also think as Tabitha pondered how she could get some Occamy eggs for Mary. "I was thinking you could use the broken pieces of the eggs once the Occamies have hatched..." she murmured thoughtfully. It had been a while since Tabitha had made a potion (she didn't really have to, being married to a Potions professor after all) and she was a bit fuzzy on the making of Liquid Luck. Still, she had no reason to doubt Mary who was the expert so she just shrugged and moved on. "Unfertilised eggs... Well, that's always a possibility. Not every egg laid is fertilised and they'd be easy to spot. Occamies know, you see and they wouldn't protect the egg as fiercely because there would be no baby to protect inside..."

Tabitha realised that she had prattled on a bit and flushed a light pink, realising that she had been doing so. It wasn't hard to get Tabitha to ramble. All one had to do was ask questions about any creature and Tabitha was like an encyclopedia of knowledge. Years of expeditions and studying had caused this trait and every year, she fed her knowledge more and more.

"Sorry, Mary..." she said. "You know how I get."

Tabitha smiled when Mary declared that she liked travelling with her. That was wonderful. She knew that the trips she organised were sometimes very difficult and she was grateful that Mary put up with her.

"I will need a new journal," she told her wife thoughtfully. "My last one is almost full. Ailuros had some fun clawing out some of the pages though, mercifully, they were blank ones at the back."

She shook her head at the thought of the kneazle. Ailuros was an adorable creature but she did have a playful and mischievous streak and a lot of Tabitha's things had paid the price when the kneazle had been in that mood.

"Hatching is normally early summer," Tabitha told Mary, looking thoughtful for a moment before an excited look crossed her face. "We could find the Occamies and then I would like to take you to Szechenyi Baths in Budapest, Hungary! They are beautiful and the surrounding architecture is incredible and the atmosphere..."

She trailed off for a moment before a smirk touched her lips and she lowered her lips close to Mary's ear. "The atmosphere is incredibly romantic, especially at night."

20 Tabitha Brooding-Hawthorne Always... (Just kidding!) Time doesn't change everything. 1417 0 5

Malikhi Hill

April 21, 2020 5:09 PM

I think you mean 'woooo!' by Malikhi Hill

Malikhi had never really danced before but when he had been younger, he had seen his father dance with his mother at Christmas and on other special occasions so he felt that he at least had some idea. So, for once carrying the thought of his father in his head, he gently tugged Hana over to the dancefloor and hoped that his father would be able to help him one more time. Turning to face Hana, he slipped an arm around her wait and let his hand rest gently on her back. His other hand clasped hers and after a moment of making sure everything was okay, he started to lead her into the dance.

It wasn't a perfect dance. He was pretty sure they weren't in time to the music and he was only guessing at where to put his feet but he mercifully didn't step on her toes and none of the other stuff mattered to him anyway. Dancing with Hana was definitely being chalked up as one of the best moments of his life so far. He felt like a prince dancing with a princess at the end of a fairytale. Life really couldn't get much better than this at the moment.

He listened to her talk, a smile on his lips as they twirled together, trying to avoid any other couples. He was glad she liked dancing and was very glad he'd suggested it. He liked when she talked of home because her home sounded lovely and warm and nice and reminded him of what his home life used to be like before... everything that had happened. Hearing her talk stirred up feelings of warmth and happiness. Of course, it was then often accompanied with sadness and anger but Malikhi refused to let that happen tonight. He wasn't going to let his emotions cloud and colour what was a wonderful evening and he wasn't going to stop Hana from talking. She could talk about whatever she wanted.

"I like it too," he told her, smiling. "I like you."

Maybe he could share a little bit about himself, his family. It seemed only fair.

"My mother and father used to dance at Christmas," he told her slowly, a little hesitantly but wanting her to know this. "I would watch them from where I would sit on the sofa and my Dad he would always finish dancing right under the mistletoe and kiss my Mum. She'd laugh and..."

He trailed off, his voice a little thick and his eyes stinging. Maybe talking hadn't been the best of ideas. Malikhi sniffed and cleared his throat, forcing his emotions back down. He didn't want to ruin this. He needed a quick change of subject.

"Does Freddie like dancing too?"

20 Malikhi Hill I think you mean 'woooo!' 1423 0 5

Mab

April 21, 2020 6:42 PM

I already started working on that by Mab

The thing that Mab really remembered the most about the trip to Tumbleweed was not the ginger ale, or her dress, or the cowboy hats, or even Alexander himself. It was that it wasn't fair.

Life wasn't fair. She knew that very well. Normally she fell on the side of the have-not, but she'd managed somehow to land the lottery win when it came to foster care. Well, not somehow. She knew perfectly well how she'd managed it. She'd run away from her actual foster placement, lived on the streets for a few weeks, months, eons? Time didn't really have a meaning there so she wasn't entirely sure. But she'd been on her own, and buying her own food with money she pickpocketed using fey help (underage magic, according to the Auror report) and got herself arrested by Fey Police. And the one Fey Police Lady she met was going through some kind of family crisis and decided she needed a kid but she hated kids and here was Mab who was scrappy and independent and legally in need of a guardian and seemingly resistant to allowing Bel accidentally kill her with poor parenting skills, so it was some kind of fate. Bel pulled strings and talked to judges and then Mab was a foster kid to a rich witch.

Alexander just lived in a group home on the other side of the country. He'd had zero chance of encountering Bel.

But Bel was rich, and she knew people, and she apparently had some pull.

So Mab had broached an idea with her. And Bel was not totally convinced. Bel wasn't really experienced with parenting one kid let alone two. Bel didn't like kids. Bel especially didn't like boys. Bel wanted nothing to do with having two opposite sex teenagers living under her roof when she's at work most of the day and has to leave them unsupervised. Bel was a cranky witch who turned kids into toads. Bel wasn't some kind of bleeding heart who took in strays.

Mab had calmly refuted each of these things. Alexander had zero expectations in a parent, so as long as she didn't abandon them and kept feeding and housing them, she was already doing better than the ones they knew. Bel liked her, right? (Mab knew this was playing dirty, but she'd never had a problem with that before and she certainly didn't when her friend's future was at stake.) Bel liked her nephews, right? Derry Four was a first grade teacher so he didn't work over the summer, and Cole would love to have someone to play with. They could go visit their foster-uncle when she was at work. (Mab decided not to refute the part about being a cranky witch because Bel kind of was.) And Bel didn't need to be a bleeding heart for her home to start filling up with strays if Mab was one. Mab noted she would not have time to find any feral cats to bring home this summer if she had Alexander to keep her company.

Mab arrived at the door of the Cascade Hall feeling pretty darn smug. She had permission to ask Alexander if he would consider moving to Boston and if he wanted to met Bel as a potential placement. Timing being what it was, he'd have to go back to the Northwest first, but Bel could probably get transfer papers pushed through by early next week if he wanted them. The only real concession she'd had to make was to promise that she'd paint Bel as an imperfect guardian, and possibly only a temporary one until he could find someone better suited. Mab wasn't worried about that because it either meant Alexander would find someone even better than a rich witch to live with, or he wouldn't and he'd get to stay with Bel. Either way was a win compared to where he was at now.

She stepped into the Ball, and felt something magical happen. This place, this room with its flowing waterfalls instead of walls, this school where they taught ridiculous things like how to properly chop rat spleens, this world where nothing was like it should be, this incredibly fancy event where she was wearing a second-hand dress . . . Mab belonged here.

She was a fey as any of them. She was as unexpected as any of them. She had bargained with the fey and come out ahead. She was as powerful and scary as anyone else. She felt, oddly, safe.

She'd felt safe all year. She was only now realizing that. The surprises and horrors of daily life in the Fey Lands had mostly obscured it. But nothing here, nobody here, had made her feel unsafe. Even in DADA, which all the terrible things Professor Hawthorne-Brooding talked about, Mab was being taught how to deal with them.

This place was good. This place was hers.

And there was Alexander, making his way toward her, wearing the suit Bel paid for. Mab smiled. Then he opened with his news, and her expression was replaced by one of surprise and a bit of dismay. Had she battled the Cranky Witch for nothing? He had parents. He had a sister already. A sister who wasn't her.

"Oh," she said, trying to look excited for him instead of disappointed. Except . . . . it was news. It wasn't termed good news. Details like that were very important for Fey, because some of them couldn't lie. (Mab could, she'd double checked that pretty early on after finding out she was a changeling.) And Alexander wasn't looking joyful. Not really upset either, though, so it was hard to tell, but she would have thought good news would seem more . . . happy? He just seemed . . . she didn't even know.

But he was saying they looked lovely, and she looked down at the dress she was wearing. It was a cute dress. Silver and shimmery. Otherwise plain. Just simple spaghetti straps. A zig-zagged bottom hem that topped out around her knees and reached as far down as mid-calf. "Only worn once!" the tag had promised. She wasn't sure she believed it, but it was close enough to new for her. There were, at least, no obvious signs of stains or damage. She kind of loved this dress. Understated, but elegant. Sleek, but not so tight she couldn't run if she had to. Perfect.

Her hair was nice, too. She'd battled with that as fiercely as with Bel, but this time she had been defeated. Fortunately, Leanor was available to rescue her and had tamed it into a pretty style that was as lovely as her dress. She probably owed her roommate a serious fey debt for that.

And Alexander cleaned up nicely, too.

"We are," she agreed. Then she paused and cautiously toed back toward his opening news. "Is . . . do you want a sister?" she asked carefully. "This is . . . good?"

1 Mab I already started working on that 1473 Mab 0 5

Theo Spurn

April 21, 2020 6:53 PM

Thank you! by Theo Spurn

“Theo,” Theo corrected when he got addressed as ‘Buddy.’ He recognised this suit. It was one he’d touched near the dance floor. Apparently the person inside it was called ‘Lyssa.’ That was nice. And Lyssa liked his coat! Obviously that made sense - someone who was wearing a blue suede suit (heehee, he knew a song about not-quite-that) was going to be into the touches and it was just always fun to meet another enthusiast.

“YES!” he beamed ecstatically, “It is exactly for touching and it has so many feels,” he grinned spreading his arms out wide. Well, one arm. The other crossed and instinctively began fiddling as he showed off his wares like a proud shopkeeper. “The whole thing is a very soft, almost plushie-like kind of softness, but if you prefer smooth soft, there’s some silky bits hanging down over here, and a lot of the ribbons are like that too, except this green one here which is a velvety ribbon,” he said with a tone of reverence, running it through his fingers. “And the buttons! Look! They’re soft but they’re bumpy soft! Did you know that bumpy soft was a thing? Isn’t that funny?” he added.

“You like feels too,” he stated, because it was abundantly clear that had to be the case. “I like your suit,” he added, absently reaching out a hand to pet it again. His eyes were still on his own buttons, and hadn’t really connected with anywhere on Lyssa except the outstretched hand and its cuff.

13 Theo Spurn Thank you! 1476 0 5

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 21, 2020 6:56 PM

Oh thank goodness. by Alexander Pierce-Beales

Mab was as cautious as ever and Alexander was reminded of one of the reasons he liked hanging out with her so much. They had seen enough in this world to know that everything came with a price and every price cost more than it seemed to on first glance. Nothing was ever just good or just bad and everything that was sweet was bittersweet. Like finding a friend, finally, because you can bond over your past misfortunes.

Her question was a good one and not one that hadn't yet crossed his mind. Truth be told, he'd spent a lot of time thinking about just this subject. He couldn't say no, because he did want a sister. But it was because he wanted a family. He didn't want whatever Evelyn's father was. And if they weren't close, there was no saying whether that was any sort of family at all. Either he was getting a crappy father or a crappy sister, and there was no word on his mother or her mother or anything else. No, that wasn't a life he wanted. But . . . he didn't want to go back to Seattle either. Sonora was a fresh start for him in many ways, but it didn't yet seem to be fresh enough.

Finally, Alexander shook his head. "I don't want this one," he said, frowning a little. "I guess her dad - my dad - is really awful. It's been suggested that I don't contact him 'for safety reasons'," he said, with air quotes. "Whatever that means, that's not a family I want. I just . . . " It felt rude to talk about his sad lot when Mab had those things. Well, she had some of them. Her life was by no means perfect, and she was looking for her mother and she was alone in a lot of ways too, but she did have a life. He didn't want to bring the party down. But he'd gone past the topic and then she'd gone back, so maybe she didn't mind. Maybe he really did have a friend. "I don't want to go back to Seattle. You said . . . there are magic group homes? Or foster homes?" He hated how desperate he sounded, although anyone else probably would have read it as as neutral as ever.

It was cathartic to say it all out loud, because he hadn't yet. He'd thought about it, he'd cried about it, he'd yelled about it, and he'd talked about it a little with Nathaniel, but not like this. Not with someone who understood and not with someone who was his age and not with someone who wanted him to talk about it for the sake of talking it out. And, he realized, he really didn't want whatever family he had been meant to have there. That family was already established, and apparently a mess. He didn't want that life. He just . . . didn't want to be the weird kid who made stuff happen that didn't make any sense, either. "I'd like to learn how I could get anywhere other than where I've been, but not to where my birth certificate says I ought to be. Does that make sense?"

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales Oh thank goodness. 1475 0 5

Ellie Alperton

April 21, 2020 10:11 PM

We're out of this world by Ellie Alperton

Ellie twirled, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She tried to identify the strange sensation in her stomach and realised it was… calmness. Okay, not totally calm, there were happy little butterflies fluttering about in there, but they hadn’t been joined by their annoying little Moth of Anxiety cousins as they so often were.

She was excited. She was excited to wear her beautiful dress, and she was excited to see Jasmine looking like a princess and leading the dances with her handsome prince. Oh, and to go with Freddie. She felt a little guilty that that had come so far down her list, but their interactions in the run up to the ball hadn’t really shifted. It hadn’t become the central element of her and Freddie’s interactions, as it had with Jasmine. She and Jasmine had shopped and planned hairstyles, and Jasmine had managed to smooth out all of Ellie’s worries without even seeming like she was trying. That had been the best part about shopping together. She had been so worried about her body and about whether it was going to look right, and she was perfectly used to her body being something it was okay to talk about with her doctors or her friends at group, but she had worried she would have been super creepy for talking to other people outside of those contexts, or for asking about theirs. Jasmine had made it so normal though. Talking about dresses for girls without chest stuff going on, because that was what Ellie was, and that there were plenty of other people in that boat too.

There had been two dresses she had loved. One had been light, floaty fabric in pale pink, blue and green stripes. She had had a breath-catching moment when she saw it because it was so so almost all her colours. And a quick colour changing charm would have sorted the green out, turned it into white… It had full shoulders and had been a nice protective cocoon to wrap herself in, whilst having enough sparkle and flare, thanks to the little diamante cluster on the front, to make her feel special. But then… then there had been this dress. On paper, it should not have been ideal, with the straps and the slightly shaped neckline and the large amounts of blue. All of those should have raised red flags. But it sparkled. The blue merged into pink and the whole thing glittered. It was like those swirly pictures of galaxies you saw, where the colours seemed unreal and the whole thing was studded with stars. The colours weren’t a million miles off the mark either. Admittedly, it was bolder shades than the little friendship bracelets she wore on her wrist, and you sort of had to let the glitter count as the white… It had a nice, a-line skirt, which stopped her feeling like it was going to cling to her body in a way she didn’t like, and it did The Thing when she twirled, though not high enough to risk exposing her underwear, and it was clear Jasmine approved. She approved of both dresses, but she had really, really approved of this one.

Now she was wearing it, and it hadn’t shifted horribly in the weeks in her closet, into something that didn’t fit or that made her afraid. She worked some fancy braids around the crown of her head and curled the rest of her hair, emphasising the galaxy theme further in her choice of jewellery and hair pins, studding herself all over with little diamante stars, and feeling out of this world.

She made her way down to the hall, a little wrap dangling from her arms in case of cold breezes or attacks of self-consciousness, and found Freddie waiting.

“Thank you. You’re looking very handsome,” she replied, partly because it seemed polite to, and partly because it was true. Not in a way that made her want to go and squish up against him in an anything more-than-friends way, but his suit was nice, and the purple was bright and fun, and he was her friend and he was lovely. Really lovely. Because he’d not only brought her flowers, but he’d brought them in the one colour that had been missing from her ensemble. And had not murdered them. Ellie blinked slightly. She supposed cut flowers did die. Faster than if they’d stayed in the ground. Still, she had never thought of it as ‘flower murder.’ She had thought of it as ‘romantic’ and ‘pretty.’

“That’s good,” she smiled, because it clearly mattered to him that they were not dead or dying, and it seemed better to save the debate on the ethics of cut flowers for another time. Or possibly never. She held out her wrist so that he could tie the corsage on, feeling ever so grown up about having one. “They’re really beautiful, thank you.” She knew enough about magic now to know that flowers, as a living (ish, in this case) thing were harder to do than what they worked on in beginners class. But Freddie had an older sister. And Ellie had an older friend… One who would possibly have interest in making sure she got treated properly on her date/”date”. And who had heard her dress dilemmas. She tramped down a spike of paranoia. Jasmine could have told Freddie the colour to go for without having to tell him the significance of why. Jasmine wouldn’t do that to her.

“Did Jasmine tell you I wanted white in particular?” she asked.

OOC - Ellie's dress

13 Ellie Alperton We're out of this world 1456 Ellie Alperton 0 5

Sadie-Lake Chalmers

April 22, 2020 6:09 AM

I'm not supposed to be by Sadie-Lake Chalmers

All the seats were free. And the girl sounded kinda upset by that. Sadie took that as a pretty clear invitation to slip into the one next to her, offering a sympathetic smile as she did so. Sometimes it was hard to know where you belonged. Really, really hard. Of course, that didn’t mean they would fit together but it beat being alone all by yourself.

Also, the main thing Sadie had discovered about her own personality this year was… its basic non-existence. All her life, she had been told who she was, and had it paraded. She had been super excited at the idea that magic was real, partly because well, who wouldn’t be? (#ChildhoodDreams, #DreamsComeTrue). But besides all the Tinkerbell glamour of it all, it had been a #BreathofFreshAir to get away from her mother. From her constant pushing, and selfie-ing, and selling their #FamilyLife to the voyeurs of Instagram. The trouble was, having been clicked and captioned all her life, it was hard to know what to do without that. Or rather who she was. Her mother had provided her personality in poses, captions and hashtags - had spoonfed her who she was supposed to be for so long.

So far, the answer had been sort of blending into the background. It was a position she’d craved, and it was better than people striking her own poses back at her in the playground or quoting her mom’s hashtags at her. But she sometimes felt like all she had was a gaping void where her personality should have been. She was sure that would offend some people. They probably thought she was boring. She suspected some of her classmates forgot she was there sometimes. But maybe it would mean no one was particularly bothered by her either. Including Bella (what a pretty name – classic, elegant).

“I’m Sadie Chalmers,” she offered. As ever she dropped the stupid hyphenated part. She had seen to it on day one that no one here knew to call her that. “You’re in intermediates?” she guessed, appreciating how easy the class groups here made it to guess these things and thus make small talk. She hadn’t seen Bella in her class (and Sadie, as one of the invisible people, noticed others like her) but Bella didn’t look loads older either.

13 Sadie-Lake Chalmers I'm not supposed to be 1480 0 5

Ivy Brockert

April 22, 2020 4:54 PM

Cheers by Ivy Brockert

Ivy stood waiting for Nathaniel to come back with the punch. It wasn't as if she didn't want to dance more at all, but she was sort of thirsty. When he arrived, she took her cup and said "Thank you." to him.

The younger Teppenpaw raised his glass to her and Ivy smiled. "Thank you, again, Mr. Mordue. Cheers." In all honesty, the seventh year couldn't believe this was her last night here. It felt like only yesterday that she had left for her first year at Sonora. Now she was going off to college and her little sister Lavender would be coming to school here. Ivy hoped it was just amazing for the younger girl. Better even than it had been for the Teppenpaw.

Not that it had been bad exactly. Ivy was Head Girl, she'd done well in her studies but there were certainly parts she would have wanted to be different. The part where she hadn't gotten prefect, for starters. She also wished she'd had more friends but it couldn't have been helped the way her class was set up. Still, perhaps Ivy could have put more effort into being friends with Eden or Cleo.

She hoped that Lavender had it better. That her sister would make the super close female friend that she wanted. Lavender had basically grown up with a bunch of boys, primarily Gabriel and their cousin Ryan's twin sons Wally and Stanley and Lavender was not at all a tomboy.

Ivy also worried that her mom would be super upset about Lavender going off to school. She hoped her mom would be okay.

"I'm going off to Dofmore." Ivy told Nathaniel, certain he had heard of the elite magical college. "I plan to go into journalism, at least until I get married and have children." Her own mother had done similar. Originally, the seventh year had had no intention of working, the way most pureblood girls didn't but she had really enjoyed working on the school paper. As it was though, Ivy had yet to meet someone she truly wanted to marry so she might as well go to college and plan to work in journalism. Of course, her father had made his misgivings clear. The fact that the Teppenpaw had plans for a career wasn't an issue but he seemed to think that she was ill-suited for the one she'd chosen. His exact words were that Ivy was too ethical to be a journalist. She knew it was supposed to be a compliment, being ethical was generally a good thing but it sure didn't seem like Dad thought much of journalists in general.

Of course, it could all end up a moot point, as Ivy was probably going to at the very least find a husband before the end of college, though babies would likely wait awhile longer.

11 Ivy Brockert Cheers 394 0 5

Dorian Montoir

April 22, 2020 7:07 PM

Gay. Yes, we'd noticed. by Dorian Montoir

"Jean-Loup," the older boy replied, inclining his head politely when she introduced herself. Dorian had constantly told him that Sonora was a lot more casual about names, and he was starting to feel less strange about it, although it was still a conscious effort on his part not to include his last name. It was probably for the best though. For one thing, people here seemed to have enough trouble with his first name (worse still, if they had read it before hearing it) and also, given how things were at home, there was every possibility he would have to get used to living without his last name.

"Dorian," Dorian added his own name. Although it was a small school, he was not sure he had been aware of the girl's name. Age and house differences made a big enough gap, even here.

That dealt with, he turned to the other, much more interesting question. 'How did you meet?' It was one he had had a little practise at, with Professor Brooding and Tatiana. They had been a suitable audience for far more detail and gushing than he suspected he would give Jezebel. Still, it made him think about the story, seeing all the best parts play out in his own mind, and let him imagine how they would get to tell it together, again and again, working out the perfect way to share it out and convey all the magic, whilst keeping the private, intimate core of it as something between themselves.

"At a party," he answered Jezebel, remembering stepping out into artificially warm air on what should have been a cold December night. Remembering avoiding the crowds but finding that he wasn't alone. An amused smile crossed his face as he recalled how he'd anxiously weighed up whether or not Jean-Loup would be friendly. "We are from the same area," he clarified, though he figured their accents made that somewhat obvious, "All the families around there know each other," he added, finding that it was unavoidable to mention that connection, but glossing it over it in vague enough terms to stop it from hurting too much.

13 Dorian Montoir Gay. Yes, we'd noticed. 1401 0 5

Jezebel Reed-Fischer

April 23, 2020 8:46 AM

Bout how'd you know? by Jezebel Reed-Fischer

Jean-Loup and Dorian. Their families knew each other and they'd met at a party? There were clearly some important steps being left out of that narrative and Jezebel took it as a sign she shouldn't pry. She shouldn't have pried in the first place, although she'd tried to be subtle and polite about it. She had so many more questions and she was surprised by the urge to grab the front of their robes and shake the boys until all the answers fell out. It would be easier that way, rather than trying to get her answers and navigate social niceties. She also was realizing that her life was nothing like the lives of these boys.

Really, Jezebel's mother knew French as well. She rarely spoke it, but she knew it. Growing up in Nigeria meant that she knew several languages and dialects of those languages. But Jezebel and her siblings had never been taught, and since Jezebel never heard French at home, she still very much thought of it as the fancy snail-people language. French was for the kings and queens who wore fancy jewelry and ate fancy foods and kissed fancy people in her books. But Jezebel wasn't one of them.

"I see," she mused aloud, although not in an unfriendly way. She was pensive and trying very hard not to be, as that wasn't polite. Of course, perhaps if she continued navigating all this weirdness, then she might actually get somewhere. If Jean-Loup and Dorian were fancy snail-people, then maybe they wouldn't mind a show of etiquette and grace. Granted, Jezebel was sure to disappoint in that area; she didn't have half the upbringing she suspected these boys had.

Come to think of it, she didn't actually know that though. There were poor French people, too, and other than being perfect Adonises, neither of them screamed "wealthy." Was Adonis... into guys? In any case, it would have been helpful to know they'd met at some function specifically for folks inclined the way they were inclined or something. Otherwise, it just didn't make that much sense. But Jezebel wasn't going to pry anymore.

She smiled politely, and sincerely, looking at Jean-Loup and then Dorian. "You seem very happy together," she said.

22 Jezebel Reed-Fischer Bout how'd you know? 1454 0 5

Freddie Zauberhexen

April 23, 2020 8:56 AM

Space! The final frontier. by Freddie Zauberhexen

Ellie was very kind. Freddie was well aware that he did indeed look pretty rockin' - handsome was maybe a stretch, but he'd take it - but Ellie didn't have to go and say so. She was just nice like that, though. She even said it was good that he hadn't killed any flowers for her and she looked happy with the corsage. But she had a weird question about them.

"You want that they are white?" he confirmed, only half sure he'd understood the subtext on that one. He knew jasmine was a type of flower . . . it was also a person, right? He was pretty sure he knew there was a person who existed with that name. Plus flowers didn't usually tell people stuff and there wasn't any jasmine in the corsage Freddie gave Ellie, so she probably was talking about a person and not the flower. Unlocking context clues like a dang champion. "No one tells me," he answered her question, shaking his head.

"Hana - my sister - has boy. He is . . . one, two . . . three . . . he has four year at Sonora." Why couldn't all languages just agree on doing numbers the same way? It was really dumb having to count up to wherever he was going every time. Potions recipes just used the numeral most of the time and there wasn't a lot of other need to talk about numbers, so he was out of practice. Of course, he didn't really practice his English anyway, so much as bumble through it and hope for the best. It worked. "He make. But I ask that they are white. I know your color not." He gestured at her dress and then his face brightened. "We are same color!" he grinned. "Rot und blau machen lila." Ugh. Colors too. He pointed at the pink part of her dress with one had, then the blue part with the other hand, and then smashed his hands together and pointed at his own purple ensemble. "We are same color! I think that white will nice looking, so ask Kai that he make white."

22 Freddie Zauberhexen Space! The final frontier. 1452 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 23, 2020 12:38 PM

To your health. by Nathaniel Mordue

"Really? Congratulations," said Nathaniel upon hearing that Ivy had gotten into school. He was a bit surprised, really - he had not had the impression that many of the Brockert girls did such things. Of course, as their family was rather more expansive than his own, he supposed there would be significant variation between sets. Ivy, for instance, was neither a gemstone nor a vowel; he had no idea where this put her in relation to those parties, though he knew he ought to. History and Genealogy - in what seemed a cruel irony, given how very fractured his family had become - had never been one of the areas he had excelled in before school.

"Of course," he said politely when she said she would study journalism until she got married and had children. He was not sure what the purpose of doing anything at all if one was just going to give it up was, especially since she was unlikely to remain single for long (he thought she might have been one of those Uncle Alexander and Aunt Avery had been talking about possibly shoving Simon in the vague direction of at parties, though Nathaniel had been too quickly distracted by the subject changing to marrying off Sylvia to recall for sure, as he had been obliged to rapidly stop his accidental eavesdropping then, when it had occurred to him upon hearing Sylvia discussed like a parcel of goods that the tasks of partially avenging his mother and removing Sylvia from the marriage market, albeit by putting her in mourning for people she was naive enough to still seem to hold in some regard, could be very conveniently combined...).

Of course, perhaps Ivy merely enjoyed journalism and wanted to pass the time doing something she enjoyed. Nathaniel had been asked why he took photographs before - there were, after all, many social inferiors of his who could do that job for him, as witness the wretch near the flower arch - and his answer had boiled down to that - that he enjoyed passing the time that way. Or had. He did tend to forget about the possibility of someone just enjoying something these days; he had done that only rarely for a very long time now, even since the worst of his illness had begun to subside.

"In the meantime, however, I'm sure you'll do an excellent job," he said with another smile. "Any idea which papers you might want to work for?" He expected the reply to involve some society rag (a genre he had had a particular dislike for since Kir McLeod, of all people, had told him about the formal 'loss' of his mother), but perhaps she would surprise him, and it was a way to keep the conversation going and focused on her.

16 Nathaniel Mordue To your health. 1412 0 5

Topaz Brockert

April 23, 2020 2:03 PM

How utterly pointless by Topaz Brockert

Topaz honestly did not see the point of Sonora's ball. Pureblood balls, whether she particularly enjoyed them or not-which she didn't because most of the conversation at them was pointless and vapid-were, it seemed, about meeting people that you didn't go to school with and finding spouses and just general pureblood networking. Not that Topaz was excited to look for a spouse and she just knew that soon enough that Emerald would be married to Winston and Ruby would get engaged to Dean and the focus would be on her . Especially given that Allegra who was a few months younger than Topaz was here tonight with Julius Astley.

Now normally, the Aladren would want the focus to be on her. When one had a large number of siblings and was a middle child and not the one and only and much desired son and your parents were fairly neglectful, you did not get a lot of attention. However, being pushed to get a husband was not something Topaz found all that appealing. Having seen what an utter moron some men-Winston and Owen both sprang to mind-became when they fell in "love", made the whole prospect less appealing. Winston had been zero help regarding what he wanted at his wedding other than Emerald during the Challenges last year and Owen-who was a sappy person anyway-had barely been better though he had opinions on food. Not that that had mattered since he had not been the one on her Challenge team.

Of course, having a man completely in her thrall...someone whom thought Topaz was the most wonderful person in the world...someone who appreciated her... okay yeah, she could possibly enjoy that. However, she could not imagine having romantic feelings for a person. Worse was the whole procreating bit. The Aladren sincerely hoped that she was not going to have to be saddled with a pack of snot nosed little brats that she had no real maternal feelings for because her husband wanted an heir. In short, she didn't want to be her mother.

Anyway, Sonora's ball was for all students, not just the purebloods, therefore, Topaz was not there to look for a husband. There were rather slim pickings, just Julius and Nathaniel really, the former of whom apparently preferred her cousin-not that that would stop the Aladren, if she wanted him, he would easily be hers-and the latter who....possibly preferred his own? Topaz supposed there was also Felipe, who was tolerable enough to talk to and Jeremy who was an annoying twit.

It was just the same group of mostly idiots that she saw every day all dressed up in fancy packages. Dancing was something that Topaz could take or leave anyway, she was perfectly fine at it but there was better uses of her time. However, there were not enough boys to go around even if she was interested anyway.

She decided to walk over and get something to eat instead.

11 Topaz Brockert How utterly pointless 1427 Topaz Brockert 0 5

Sophia Priory

April 23, 2020 3:40 PM

Unfair by Sophia Priory

As far as midsummer events went, the ball was sort of meh, in Sophia's opinion. Her options for a date were limited and she'd probably just hang out with her friends so it wasn't as if she would be standing alone and bored all night. However, she really rather objected to the tradition of prefects and Head Students doing the opening dance. Sophia was happy that her brother had Peyton to dance with, but generally speaking, there was practically never enough partners to go around so someone was always getting humiliated because they had nobody to dance with.

Not to mention some people just didn't like being in front of a crowd,especially if they were not good dancers. And odds were that this was actually more unfair to Muggleborns and others who had not grown up in pureblood society such as Josie. Wealthy purebloods had dancing lessons but others might not. She knew Connor's friend Gary, for example, had needed dance lessons in preparation for the ball.

The opening dance began and Sophia's jaw dropped open as she saw Dorian Montoir spin by with his partner. It wasn't that said partner was a male that got her attention but that this boy was not a student at Sonora. Supposedly, outside dates were not allowed . While Sophia felt that they should be-or that the whole bloody tradition should be done away with-they still weren't . Even though that other guy had been seen around at Sonora, the fact remained that he wasn't a student. Period.

And if others did not get to have outside dates, Dorian shouldn't either. The same rules applied to everyone regardless of whether or not the particular rule should be in place or not. What made the Teppenpaw any more special than her brother was,the fact that he had wanted to go with Peyton who was a student here was besides the point. The point was that Dorian shouldn't be getting special treatment. Sophia was pretty sure that if it were her or her brother or Beau or one of the Headmaster's granddaughters getting special privileges, people would cry foul so why was it okay for Dorian? Because he wanted to dance with a boy? He could have danced with a boy who already went here! If none wanted to dance with another boy he could have danced with Tatiana for one dance. They didn't have to get married for crying out loud, Sophia doubted Ivy was going to marry Nathaniel Mordue.

Of course, if she complained the Nessa McLeods of the world would whine that she was being homophobic when she wasn't. Because people like that had to read prejudice into everything a pureblood did. That wasn't the case at all. The third year didn't have any opinion whatsoever about Dorian being gay but she very much had an opinion on people being treated fairly. She would feel exactly the same if he'd been dancing with a non-student female.

11 Sophia Priory Unfair 1447 0 5

Mab

April 23, 2020 6:13 PM

You want to get in on it? by Mab

Mab tilted her head in faint confusion at Alexander's answer. There was apparently something wrong with the sister that he'd acquired biologically. Oh. Oh, the problem wasn't with the sister but with the father. As he talked, she tried to look properly dismayed for him, but frankly, she was needing to work really hard to keep from grinning. He didn't want his family. He had a dumb family. This was great, but it was also terrible. It was very terrible actually. But it meant her plan could happen after all, and she was getting really excited to share that idea.

She perked up even more when he expressed his desire to not go back to Seattle. That sounded like he'd be agreeable to moving to Boston. And yeah. It definitely sounded like he'd like her plan.

But she had to play it cool. If he didn't like her plan, she didn't want to be disappointed. She'd feed it out a little at a time and see what he thought about it. She nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense," she confirmed, because it absolutely totally did. "Some dads just suck," she informed him, though he probably already knew. "Mine sucks, too," she added, so he wouldn't feel like she was insulting just his. It wasn't quite the same. She didn't think there were 'safety concerns' involved with her dad. He was just a douche who dumped his girlfriend when he found out he got her pregnant.

"I . . . don't know about magical group homes," she admitted. "There's definitely magical foster care, but I don't know if there's much of a magical foster system. I'm probably a weird edge case, but I got put with Bel through a judge instead of by a case worker or anything like that. She's got connections and stuff. And um, well, I'm connected to her now, and I was wondering, if you'd maybe want to move to Boston? I've been owling her since Tumbleweed and she's agreed she can come out to meet you, if you'd be interested. She's . . . she's not perfect, nobody is. She's a bit short tempered, but there's not really safety concerns like with your bio dad. She's much more likely to just turn you into a toad for few hours until she calms down. So if you don't want to be a toad, that's something to consider. And she dates girls, so if that bothers you, it's also not a good match. And you'd have to relocate to Boston, so that could be a deal breaker if you don't want to leave the West Coast. And she doesn't really know much about raising sons - or daughters, really, but she was at least a teenage girl once - so she's a little wary of taking you on with no male role models around, but she's totally got a," Mab stopped abruptly, frowning in obvious confusion, because she just realized she'd been told Three and Four were brothers, but Three was also Bel's brother but Four was her cousin, and how did that even work?

"Anyway, she has two Derries who are somehow related to her and each other that I'm supposed to call Uncles, but it's complicated and confusing. Anyway, there are foster-uncles who seem like good role models, and if you really want a good foster-dad instead of or in addition to a foster-mom, she can just take you in for a few months or more, until a better option comes along. Other pluses include a nice big apartment with private bedrooms; a foster mom who really seems like she's dedicated to making sure you're doing well; you'd have a couple of cousins who are the sons of the two Derries, but they're either twenty or six, so not quite our age," she paused as if that was all, and then added casually, like it was an afterthought, and not the part she was really trying her best not to get too hopeful about, "oh, and I'd be your foster sister."

She'd never had a sibling. And with Mom being, well, a single mom, particularly a single mom who worked three jobs and therefore had zero time for dating anyone, a sibling had never seemed particularly feasible. She'd still always kind of wished she'd had one.

"So would that be something she should try to set up? Or should I have her look into how to get you moved to magic foster care by more official channels?" Mab felt pretty sure that was a safe suggestion. Bel would probably be relieved enough not to have to try to juggle two new foster kids that she'd jump on that. "That might take more than a few days though."

Satisfied that she'd made a good case for her plan, she stopped talking. She didn't normally talk that much. Her throat didn't really like it. It felt kind of scratchy and dry now. "Do you mind if we swing by the drink table?"

1 Mab You want to get in on it? 1473 0 5

Lyssa Fitzgerald

April 23, 2020 7:01 PM

You are welcome. by Lyssa Fitzgerald

The younger boy seemed to get super excited. Far more excited than Lyssa was expecting from a boy of 11 or 12. Not just a young boy, but Theo.

“Nice to meet you, Theo,” Lyssa said calmly, watching as he spread his arms wide. Lyssa could see that someone had lovingly made this coat for him. She imagined a mom taking time to find different cloth and sew it together with love and sweat. It was a beautiful coat, if not a bit shabby from wear and tear. Lyssa wondered for a moment what would happen when Theo grew up.

As Lyssa listened, she thought about how to bring the conversation towards asking permission to touch, but Theo kept talking about his coat. The more she listened, the more she thought about what would cause someone to be so interested in the textures of their coat that they could talk for so long about it. She was wrapped up in her head so much that she didn’t initially notice when he’d reach out to pet her coat.

It wasn’t until his hand touched her jacket that she realized what was happening.

Ugh she thought, I’m not doing so well at this.

She gently grabbed his hand with her left as he was about to stroke her jacket.

“Theo,” she said, pointing to her button with her other hand, “As the button says, you need to ask permission to touch, ok? Most people, including me, will probably say yes, but you need to ask first, ok?”

And with that, she let go of his hand.

41 Lyssa Fitzgerald You are welcome. 1421 0 5

Lawrence Marsh

April 23, 2020 8:02 PM

We share much more in common than that, surely. by Lawrence Marsh

A deep laugh, like the soft growl of a Chimaera, escaped Lawrence’s lips. The sound was startling to him. He realized, standing with the cup in his hand how long it had been since he’d honestly laughed. Searching his memory, Lawrence couldn’t place a time, place, or the people he had been with. Though now he assumed, his memory would put Killian in that place. Lawrence had also wanted, at one point, to be a Quidditch player. He’d not gone to quite the lengths that Killian had, but in his minds eye he could see a young Killian in the hospital wing. Like a young Hippogriff after a tumble on their first flight. Slightly embarrassed, but the eyes still boring into the soul of the poor nurse trying to heal him from his fall.

Lawrence smiled at Gray’s story. If Killian was a Hippogriff, then Gray was a Golden Snidget. A truly quiet, delightful creature, that sadly was very rarely seen these days. Something that was truly meant to be free, like Modesty had shown the world so long ago. Before he could stop himself he let out: “Is that where you started your career writing fun stories?”

He momentarily felt his chest flush, but was able to control it before it rose higher than his shirt collar. Thankful for still being able to maintain control, Lawrence still felt more exposed than he had in a long time. Yet, he still felt more comfortable and, as his laugh suggested to him, content than he’d been in a long time. Was this what having a flock meant? Being exposed, but safe?

“Me?” Lawrence asked, “I am. Well I guess… The school I went to had students who would help the Care teacher feed the animals. One day, I was feeding the Griffin that our school had, Enrich. Anyways, I was by myself, and I had been wondering what it would feel like to sit on Enrich’s back. So I fed him, and while he was distracted by food I climbed on his back and lay there as he ate and breathed for a few minutes. That is until Professor Mahanand showed up and pulled me off and out of the pen Enrich was kept in. I never received a scolding like that, but now that I am in Professor Mad Man’s place, I can see why. He wasn’t angry, like I thought, he was scared. Heck, I’d be scared if Parker or...” Lawrence looked around for someone else he could imagine jumping on the back of an animal. Then he saw her. Yep, he figured she’d do it, “ Evelyn tried to jump on the back of an animal.”

Lawrence made a note to send an owl to Professor Mahanad this summer if the old man was still around. He might have some advice.

41 Lawrence Marsh We share much more in common than that, surely. 1462 0 5

Killian Row

April 23, 2020 10:17 PM

Dashing good looks and irresistible charm, too. by Killian Row

Killian grinned at Gray, appreciating a man whose craziest school experience was writing a metafiction play for his classmates. He raised an eyebrow, looking from Lawrence to Gray with growing interest when the former asked about stories the latter had written. He filed this way in his mental file cabinet and wished again that the wizarding world had figured out some equivalent to Google. Killian was particularly interested in whatever Gray might find interesting to read about that Lawrence would also find fun to read about. It was highly amusing to think about the Venn diagrams of the interests of those two men in particular.

His eyes widened and he laughed a little to imagine Lawrence as a student being basically the exact same human that stood before them now. Probably sans beard. He looked from Parker to Evelyn and added this information about them to his mind as well. He would have put Anya Delachene at the top of his own list, but he supposed that another couple Pecaris made sense to include. "So you're looking for your own teacher's assistants then, eh?" he joked, imagining the Care professor wrangling kids and creatures during class, and then creatures and kids outside of class.

"Brings us back to the crazy things these students get up to," he said with a wry smile, looking around at the group of little - and not so little - humans, for which they were all responsible in some way. "Honestly, I can't imagine being in either of your shoes," he said to Gray and Lawrence both, taking a drink. "I have a hard enough time helping these students do homework when I just need them to make a list of things they like doing. I can't imagine trying to any of the sorts of things I know you two have to do. And then grade it, too!" He mocked bowing slightly. "Hats off to you, gentlemen. For dealing with all the crazy."

22 Killian Row Dashing good looks and irresistible charm, too. 1450 0 5

Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

April 23, 2020 10:58 PM

Woooooo! by Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

Malikhi tried so hard and it was precious. As it turned out, Johana Leonie didn't care nearly so much about dancing well as just dancing at all. Dancing with a boy was nice, when that boy was Kai, and he wasn't half so terrible as she'd been hearing boys here might be. They were alone in the crowd of students on the dance floor, like the twirling couple in a music box full of jewelry and gems; each one had a story and was beautiful in its own way, but the figurines were the center of it all.

She wasn't exactly sure what he meant by liking her. She liked him too, of course; they were friends. But was that all he meant? Was that all she meant? It was so hard to say. She had always thought that romance and things were going to be easy, but they turned out to be very hard. Her tummy seemed to have all sorts of feelings and she wasn't sure whether her brain had gotten the memo yet. In any case, she wasn't sure what the words were for those feelings, so the best she could do was smile a little shyly as they spun. She was especially unsure when the conversation turned to his parents.

Christmas was a lovely, wonderful time of year - by far one of Johana Leonie's favorites - and dancing then seemed very nice. She liked to think that Kai had a strong sense of what family meant, and what romance meant. But then he was talking about kissing, right? She wasn't sure what mistletoe was, but she knew the English word for kissing. Was he trying to say they should end their dance that way, too? She wasn't sure she was ready for that and her stomach's feelings suddenly solidified into much less pleasant nerves. But the conversation turned again and Malikhi seemed to be dealing with his own set of feelings.

Johana Leonie, for her part, was quiet. That wasn't unusual since it took so much work to listen to English, and then to think in German and translate it to English and then say it in English. She was generally fairly quiet when she wasn't speaking her native language and hoped it wouldn't seem rude of her to be a little quiet now. She nodded when he asked about her brother though, amused that he always called him by his nickname.

"He dance good," she smiled. "And he like dancing." She turned her head to see if she could spot her brother and his date but wasn't afforded an angle where she could do so and looked back up at Malikhi. His hand was very warm on her back and Johana Leonie was realizing for the first time how small she was relative to the guys she knew. It was a bit intimidating and a bit nice and she wasn't sure what to do with that. "Your parents are good," she smiled, speaking quietly. "You like Christmas?"

22 Johana Leonie Zauberhexen Woooooo! 1432 0 5

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 23, 2020 11:08 PM

For real? by Alexander Pierce-Beales

Talking to Mab was always interesting for Alexander, because it felt so good when they could relate and also pretty terrible - like that they both had crappy dads - and it felt so terrible when they couldn't relate, but also pretty good - like that they had had really different experiences with foster care, the foster system, etc. It was nice to feel like his experiences were valid, even if they were different than hers. Certainly her experiences were closer than most of the people he'd met since coming to Sonora.

Mab kept talking and it wasn't about relating anymore, it was about an offer. Alexander's instincts were at war with each other, which was probably good because it gave Mab time to get out all the things she seemed to have been thinking about for a while now. Because she'd been thinking about this for a while now and she was still sure. That was. . . . no one had ever wanted him before. A big part of him was ready to pack his bags and take her up on the offer the moment it became clear that that's what it was. Other parts were less sure that it could be real, and he wanted to gauge how seriously this Bel was likely to be about it. He also wasn't sure how serious Mab was about being turned into a toad, but it wouldn't be the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Maybe he'd even enjoy being a toad.

The biggest thing that scared him was that Bel might change her mind. If this was just for a few months . . . He couldn't handle getting a family and then finding out they were awful, and then getting a new family and finding out they didn't want to keep him. So far, no one had ever wanted to keep him. At the same time, if he turned her down point blank, then he was making that decision for her and he didn't have a lot else in the works; hope was the one thing that no one could take from him, although they had tried time and time again.

But Mab would be his sister. Foster sister, half sister . . . all these qualifiers and titles. But he was beyond sure which one he'd rather have. His future was thirsty, so he nodded a little blankly at the suggestion to get something to drink. He wasn't sure he remembered how to make his throat do the swallowing thing right now, but he was going to have to. He had to say something. If he didn't, this would all go away. Whatever else happened after this, he would do his darndest to make sure he wasn't the reason he was the one left alone again.

"Yes," he said, a little too eagerly as they turned for the drink table. "Yes, I want that." Saying 'I want to be your foster brother' felt like a lot, and he wondered if it was a relation that Mab had practiced before saying it as calmly as she had. He looked at his friend - which was kind of weird actually because he was pretty sure she was his date and now they were sort of siblings but that was fine because it wasn't really a date and they weren't really siblings - and tried to really really see her. To see everything. "You think it's really possible? Bel would really do that?" He was just asking a question, but it wasn't hard to hear the fear and walls building in his voice. "If so, I'd really really like that a lot."

Trying to break the tension, he patted his obviously empty pockets and then shrugged. "Alright, I'm all packed," he joked.

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales For real? 1475 0 5

Cleo James

April 23, 2020 11:18 PM

In either a good way or a bad one by Cleo James

The first person to approach was a guy. A guy from her own house. The house of the entitled Blaze-Nortons of the world. She had reckoned on some dissent, perhaps. Her forays into the world of expressing her opinion had taught her that people were going to come and fight her for having it. She had even tried talking theory of arguments and how to improve something called 'rhetoric' with Lyssa.

Her immediate gut reaction to Felipe was for all that to fly out of the window as her defenses ramped up.

And then Parker asked about holding her hand whilst they answered. And she felt like she was supposed to say 'yes' - he clearly had a plan or a point to make, or was just more comfortable with the whole situation. She felt like she was supposed to say yes because she was still worried about not really being allowed to say 'no.' But actually, it felt weird to think about holding hands in front of Felipe. Never mind that they had just danced together in front of the whole school. There had been other people there too, and it had been the anonymity of 'everyone' watching. Now one specific person was looking at just them, and that made her uncomfortable. And it seemed silly to try to prove a point about consent by giving in to something she wasn't happy about. She was running this booth and meant to believe all the things she had learnt. She did believe them. Just, in a strange twist on the usual state of affairs, practical was harder than theory.

She shook her head slightly at Parker. Or rather in response to Parker's question, whilst staring at the table cloth in front of her.

But then... Felipe was thanking them, and dipping his head and he... he wasn't hostile. She was just as lost as to what to do with it though. She had mentally divided the world into girls who would agree with them, boys who would take issue with them, and people who would not be interested either way. She supposed Parker didn't fit in any of those categories, but he was special.

"They say 'Don't Touch Without Permission,'" she stated a little stiffly, answering the easiest question first, although that seemed sort of redundant, because surely he could already see that. Still, he had asked. "And...uh... You're welcome," she replied to his thanks. She shot Parker a look that implied that, whilst physical handholding had been ruled out, the metaphorical kind was more than welcome. He and Lyssa seemed to have been raised to know how to get their point across, and she was still struggling to know how to do that. Especially with something unexpected on her hands.

13 Cleo James In either a good way or a bad one 389 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

April 23, 2020 11:20 PM

Big mood. by Leonor De Matteo

Ah yes. The age old topic that really kept conversations going. There's so many different kinds of color names, aren't there? Brilliant observation. It was really clear why this proper Socrates was in Aladren.

Leonor was in a terrible mood. Normally she didn't care what mood she was in because she was perfectly fine on her own anyway. Tonight, though, she recognized that that wasn't the case. She was mad at everything other than Morgan and taking it out, albeit in the privacy of her own head, on a girl who actually was being pretty nice. If nothing else, she hadn't been as short as Bella had been, and Leonor had been much less blatantly rude to Bella.

"You don't have to apologise," Leonor told Morgan, sincerely if a little sharply. She pointed at Felipe, standing next to Zara like he'd just won some great prize. Funny expression for a boy who had practically been disinherited. "My brother is in Crotalus," she said. "Their House color is red." She looked down at her dress, frowning again. "I wouldn't have worn this if I'd realized it looked that much like their color."

She didn't know why she did that. Why she went from walls up, windows barred, Fort Knox, as they said, to opening up about some vulnerability or another. She felt like she owed it to the world to give some piece of herself to make up for being . . . well, being herself. But that didn't seem fair. The world certainly hadn't tried to make anything up to her yet, and there would have to be a reckoning for that; Leonor was keeping a tally and so far she was nicer to life than life was to her.

Morgan had a pretty good answer for why they might have uniforms, although makeup and jewelry were not regulated enough for it to make total sense, let alone in-born grace and high-status posture. Those weren't things she supposed they could regulate, even if they'd been able willing to try. Perhaps it wasn't so odd for Morgan to be an Aladren. The idea of tradition, however, hit particularly close to home.

"The way they've always done it," she said, almost to herself before continuing louder to Morgan. "That's crap." She raised an eyebrow at Morgan, trying to decide whether to bring this one in on her plans for world domination. If Leonor herself had had an M name, the three of them we have made a great posse. As it was, L coming first, before M, was sort of better in a way. More accurate at least. "My life's goal is to replace the status quo with one that doesn't suck so much, if you're interested in joining the team."

22 Leonor De Matteo Big mood. 1471 0 5

Felipe De Matteo

April 23, 2020 11:32 PM

At least you'll get an answer. by Felipe De Matteo

Cleo turned Parker down and the world did not end. Nothing crashed and burned. Consent in this manner wasn't a concept that Felipe especially struggled with, but he hadn't realized until that moment how closely he tied it to rejection. A person - a girl, let's be honest - not consenting to something meant she was rejecting him. That's why courtship was so important, because it set the standards and expectations from both parties, so that a marriage proposal and whatever came after wouldn't be rejected. So that he wouldn't be rejected. But actually, the world did not end because Cleo did not take Parker's hand, and Felipe doubted it meant Cleo would never want to take Parker's hand ever in her life. It just meant she didn't want to right now.

Still, Cleo looked more than a little uncomfortable and he wasn't sure what it was that he was doing that was making her uncomfortable. Or that Parker was doing? Her discomfort seemed a bit more directed at Felipe than anything. He wondered if it was a bit like how Zara said she felt sometimes when he was really polite to her and she told him he was being weird and formal.

Felipe was surprised by his sudden desire to pull out a bag of money and put it down on the table. They would do something better with it than he would, no doubt. But he didn't actually need a hundred buttons or sashes, and he didn't want to seem like he was showing off. He didn't think that waving around a bag of galleons would be the best way to impress Zara anyway. That wasn't to say he couldn't send a bag anonymously to Cleo's cause later on. To all their cause really; Felipe didn't want to be touched without permission either.

Cleo accepted his thanks in sort of a funny way, but it was a confident way, so that was nice, and Felipe smiled. "If she'll have me, I think we'll dance," Felipe said, throwing a glance Zara's way and hoping desperately not to be reje-- hoping she did whatever made her happy. "But if you're here for a while and get thirsty, flag me down. I'm happy to grab something for you since you're here and the drinks are over there." He dipped his head again, smiling at Cleo and Parker, and excused himself from the table to make room for others to approach.

22 Felipe De Matteo At least you'll get an answer. 1434 0 5

Jeremy Mordue

April 24, 2020 8:35 AM

My thoughts exactly by Jeremy Mordue

CW – homophobia, racism

Well, this was clearly going to be an evening of purest hell. Society balls were boring at the best of times. You had to be all stiff and formal and on your best behaviour all evening. This should not have been like that, because it was only a stupid school dance. But he knew that, even if they had to rub shoulders with the less desirable, those of them who were Someone had to behave properly. They’d all be watching each other. Nathaniel would certainly be watching him. So, it had all the suffocating boredom of being on his best behaviour but with… Well, he would have said ‘none of the benefits of a society ball’ but he couldn’t actually think of any.

Honestly, as he watched the riff-raff trickle in, he started to think this might be more entertaining. They were obviously going to be clueless how to behave in this situation (what the heck was the non-human wearing, and why?) and it might be funny watching them try and fail (a suspicion that was confirmed when she and her date began hoofing their way through the opening number, looking more like they were impersonating injured hippogriffs than dancing).

The real reasons why he thought this might be hell though were… well, two of them were on the edges of the dancefloor and one of them was on it. Felipe being led around like he was Jackson’s little dog on a leash was not that surprising. It wasn’t as if that counted as a date given that she was the least respectable person he could imagine, not to mention ugly as all sin. She seemed to have actively tried to make her hair look worse for the evening, and looked for all in the world like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Felipe being with her wouldn’t have been a problem, but Martin had a date too. Martin, who had all the personality of an unbuttered piece of toast, was here with a real actual human girl. He appeared to have been forced into wearing pink though, which was spectacularly humiliating. Jeremy had been sure to compliment him on his bowtie and then proceed to get out of their shared room as fast as possible before his own lack of a date could be thrown back in his face.

And that was the real problem. In spite of Jackson’s ugliness. In spite of Katerina being more pink-inflicting trouble than she could possibly be worth. It shouldn’t have mattered. They were only third years. No one had told him they were doing dates. He could have got one if he’d wanted, only he hadn’t wanted because it was all stupid, and the only way to make this evening worse was to have to hear a monologue about dresses all night or… or whatever it was girls actually talked about. But now Martin had a perfectly respectable date. And, worse than that, Dorian Montoir did not.

Honestly, it was just plain gross. It made Jeremy want to throw up or maybe punch something because it was just weird and wrong. And he didn’t want anyone saying that about him, which meant he probably ought to hang out with some girls, at least just for a bit.

Sophia Priory was by herself and she… She had never opened her mouth in a way that Jeremy found objectionable, though he couldn’t remember ever having a real conversation with her, so there was every chance that she just hadn’t had the opportunity to be annoying yet.

Well, he supposed. Time to change that...

“Good evening, Miss Priory,” he smiled, offering her a small bow. Just because he thought the whole thing was a load of tosh didn’t mean he didn’t know how to do it, regardless of whatever Nathaniel thought. He was pretty sure he was not going to get Sophia Priory to spend time with him with ‘Hey, how’s it going?’ He was pretty sure he didn’t say ‘Hey, how’s it going?’ outside of the Quiddtich Pitch. “I was wondering if you’d like to get some punch together, or something else suitably festive?” he enquired. Did not ‘ask’. Mordues did not ask. They used big, important verbs like enquire. And he could enquire like the best of them, if it meant no one thought he was gay.

13 Jeremy Mordue My thoughts exactly 1443 0 5

Grayson Wright

April 24, 2020 12:21 PM

We are all dark-haired teachers in our thirties. by Grayson Wright

"Is that where you started your career writing fun stories?"

It was not the first time someone had indicated some knowledge of Gray's former life. It wasn't even the first time it had happened at Sonora. Nevertheless, he was always slightly surprised when it happened.

"You know about that, then? But, er, no - it wasn't. I had been scribbling for...I don't even really know," he admitted, thinking back over it. Obviously, it must have been after he had learned to, well, read and write, but he didn't remember exactly when he had learned to do those things. His mother had taught him those things, he could remember doing some of the phonetic exercises and practicing his handwriting on those tablets with wide lines which had a third line between them, to guide him in shaping letters so the rises and descenders would go where they were supposed to relative to the letters which occupied only one level - but he had already clearly had a fair bit of instruction by the time he had done those things. Plus, he was sure he hadn't started trying to compose tales of any kind as soon as he started writing at all... "It was before school, though I don't think I finished anything before that." School had been an excellent place to write for him as a student; there had always been those moments of dead time where he could scribble and had few other things to distract him from scribbling.

He hoped he did not look as surprised and mildly appalled as he felt when Lawrence told his wildest student story. "If we were competing, I think you would win," he said solemnly. "I am fairly sure I'd be scared if I saw a griffin in any context at all, much less with one of the students." He did not see any reason to make much of a pretense about his own courage there; he had already confessed himself a writer with a past relationship to the theater, more or less, who had been the worst Quidditch player in the history of Aladren. The fact he would not willingly approach a griffin was probably not surprising. He did not add that he thought he might do a better job if one of the students was doing something foolish near a griffin; he had discovered over several years of teaching that he tended to go strangely calm and blank when something insane was happening here, reserving any reaction to the thing until after the crisis was over.

"Parker and Evelyn are good kids, but I wouldn't be, ehhh, entirely shocked if he did something like that, anyway," he said. "Maybe Tatiana as well - Dorian wouldn't do it on his own, I don't think, but he might follow her. Anya Delachene, though, I'm pretty sure she would." He did not say this entirely without affection; since they had negotiated compromises that didn't involve him worrying she was going to die and that her mother was going to blame him if it happened to happen in Charms, he liked Anya. He had never felt compelled to sit on his desk through class (he had much preferred keeping his feet firmly on the ground, always), not wear his uniform, or anything of that nature, but he had been one of the eccentric kids in his own day, too.

16 Grayson Wright We are all dark-haired teachers in our thirties. 113 0 5

Morgan Garrett

April 24, 2020 12:34 PM

On stage, you can be anyone you want. by Morgan Garrett

"It doesn't really look anything like the Crotalus red," said Morgan when Leonor explained why she had been so insistent about the color of her dress. "Theirs is darker - almost kinda burgundy, don'cha think? That color, your dress color, it's a lot brighter color. Looks good on you," she repeated, hoping still to cultivate amicability. "Besides, not like he's everybody in Crotalus or that Crotalus owns the color red," she added. "My favorite sunglasses are red, and nobody in my family has ever been in ten feet of Crotalus." Remembering Dad's advice, she refrained from mentioning that only one other member of her family had ever been within ten feet of Sonora Academy, period.

It sounded, however, as though Leonor might not be one of those people who was too hung up on where one's ancestors had gone to school, if her blunt assessment of tradition was anything to go by. Belatedly, Morgan also remembered that Leonor seemed like she was buddies with Morgan's nearly-as-blunt roommate Mara, who had admitted without prompting she was Muggleborn. Morgan's smile was more relaxed as Leonor made her offer.

"Sure," she said, assuming this meant an anti-uniform crusade or something, for the most part, and was mostly a joke. Surely people didn't really plan to make large-scale changes to things on their own, did they? She had the impression that these things just sort of...happened, and tended to involve lots of people in crowds in the streets. People didn't just decide to upset the status quo and then go try to make it happen. "Life's goal, huh? I'm jealous, I barely have a next week goal," she added.

OOC: Morgan's opinion about what Crotalus red is comes from my recollection of the background of the old Crotalus board...which I almost went to check for accuracy. I'm having a very smart day...

16 Morgan Garrett On stage, you can be anyone you want. 1470 0 5

Ivy Brockert

April 24, 2020 3:14 PM

And yours by Ivy Brockert

"Thank you." Ivy replied. Getting into Dofmore was no small feat and the Teppenpaw should be proud of her accomplishment. She had worked incredibly hard to get in. She had gotten pretty much near perfect grades and put a lot of effort into the paper. Plus, she was Head Girl, which didn't hurt.

However, Ivy was also not naive enough not to realize that being a Brockert was probably a part of why she'd gotten in, no matter how much she might want to believe it was completely on her own merits. Schools wanted donations from people like her family and also, didn't want to be blacklisted. Ivy doubted that they could ruin Dofmore as an institution-though if anyone could, it would be her family-but they could certainly ruin the lives of people in the admissions department who denied her.

Fortunately for both herself and said hypothetical admissions officer, that was a moot point.

"Thank you." Ivy said again. She had said that an awful lot in the last few minutes, but Nathaniel was complimenting her so what else was she going to say? Not saying thank you when you were complimented was rude and certainly, the seventh year couldn't be rude, especially not to someone who was another pureblood of a certain status and one who had done her a tremendous favor by dancing with her. Nathaniel could have just as easily decided to dance with Caitlin Pierce or picked a non-prefect like her distant cousins Topaz and Allegra. And then Ivy would have been out of luck.

Which brought her back to what she and Peyton had talked about earlier in the year, about the whole prefects and Head Students doing the opening dance thing being sort of...unfair. Yes, prefects and Head Students were entrusted with duties that others weren't, that was part of the job but this really shouldn't be one of them. Usually it was hard for everyone to have a date because most of the time there were more girls than boys. Her cousin Gabriel's class only had three boys. And sometimes, like with the fifth years and with Serena's and Chaslyn's classes, it was the other way around. And yes, there were boys like Dorian Montoir who wanted to dance with other boys but not everyone was comfortable dancing with those of the same gender. Or was interested in doing so in the first place.

"Honestly? Not really. I mean, I'd like to write for a fairly decently sized paper and do real news." Her father had said that because she was "too ethical" she was going to be writing puff pieces. "Not like, society gossip. I've never truly approved of gossip in general."

11 Ivy Brockert And yours 394 0 5

Esme Brockert

April 24, 2020 4:06 PM

Judging your attire by Esme Brockert

Esme was always happy to have a chance to dress up in a beautiful gown, but other than that she was not entirely sure what she was going to do at Sonora's midsummer ball. She liked dancing but there weren't very many boys to dance with at all, let alone proper age-appropriate ones that she wasn't related to. It very much wasn't the kind of ball Esme was looking forward to when she got older.

Honestly, she was starting to sympathize with Angelique. Although, Esme felt that she was better off than her cousin had been . Her year group might not have had anyone truly proper but herself and Gabriel, who unfortunately was a distant cousin and thus disqualified as a potential future husband, but at least they weren't a bunch of jocks. Her roommate Sadie was a perfectly pleasant girl, for example. Better than the only other pureblood besides herself and her cousin, surprisingly enough. Leonor De Matteo was from a good family, but was well, a Pecari, and just generally didn't give off the impression of what Esme considered respectable, plus she seemed to have an unreasonably unjustifiably high opinion of herself, which was-in addition to her house placement-what bothered her about the other pureblood.

On the plus side, Allegra had gotten a date for the night. The first year simply hoped Topaz wouldn't somehow ruin it for her. She was going to have to keep an eye on the Aladren.

In the meantime, Esme supposed, she could stand there and look at everyone else's dresses, boys clothing was generally too boring to comment on. She had to say, hers was one of the prettiest, though her sister and cousins and Caitlin all also looked good. Even Topaz looked sort of nice, in an evil, fairy-tale villain sort of way. Esme was pretty sure that it was not the fault of the dress either. On someone who wasn't a total psychopath, it probably would not have that effect.

Still, some people were just...well they didn't seem to get what was appropriate. Esme had even seen a girl wearing a suit . Yuck! Suits were good for men but why would a girl want to wear one? Others were just dressed in outfits that were kind of boring.

Esme decided to get herself something from the buffet. At the very least the food looked good. Really, the school itself had done well on the ball, it couldn't help who the guests were and what they wore.

Esme's gown-https://www.alinanova.com/collections/prom-dresses-2020/products/tulle-ball-gown-dresses-off-shoulder-lace-embroidery

Topaz's gown-https://www.dhgate.com/product/gothic-black-ball-gown-lace-wedding-dresses/408756240.html

11 Esme Brockert Judging your attire 1479 Esme Brockert 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

April 24, 2020 4:10 PM

You're making it so hard to be back stage. by Leonor De Matteo

OOC - I just feel like I should apologise because Leonor is terribly rude and I feel mean being so mean to your character and I love you. *sob*

IC -

Well so long as it wasn't anything like Crotalus red. It was just so nice of Morgan to explain it to her like that. She felt so much better now.

"I know it's not," she said flatly. "Because it's coral." At least she also didn't seem like a big fan of the House. Leonor almost felt a little bad because Jessica was nice enough and she was a Crotalus but she seemed to be the sort that was taught to be a Crotalus and actually would have done well in a different House, given the opportunity.

Morgan might be a similar example. Aladren just seemed less and less like a good fit for this one. Mara didn't know everything in the world but she wasn't a dolt. But then, Crotalus definitely seemed like the wrong fit if she didn't have any goals for even a week in advance. Out the corner of Leonor's eye, she caught Felipe smiling politely, shaking hands, nodding his head, and all that stuff he did so much better than she did. She sighed and smiled a little, figuring Morgan was probably aiming for humor.

"I'm set to inherit an estate," she said, again, matter-of-factly. "I have to have long-term goals, especially if I want to change the status quo at said estate." And also if she wanted to get a husband and check some boxes. That was an unfortunate side effect of the status quo but she couldn't see a way around the need to produce a new heir. Didn't mean she had to keep the husband around, or like him. She'd read about kings and queens of yore who'd had mistresses and . . . men people? They had people on the side to do stuff with. Leonor thought that would probably be better than having to stick it out with someone boring enough to want to move to Ciudad de Matteo with her. "Although next week, we'll all be on summer break," she pointed out. "So I think it's okay not to have goals for this one."

22 Leonor De Matteo You're making it so hard to be back stage. 1471 0 5

Ness McLeod

April 25, 2020 7:05 AM

I am the harbinger of queerness (tag Lyssa) by Ness McLeod

Ness and Evelyn had got ready together in MARS. There was no way Ness was going to exposed more than necessary to Topaz, and especially not in a situation like this. As well as actively avoiding Topaz, Ness actively needed Evelyn, partly for practical things (zippers in the back? What impractical hell was this? And really, how was smearing stuff on your face so freaking complicated?) and partly for moral support. Because this was, apparently, really happening.

Ness had foregone a wig, feeling it was too tacky, but the big black feathered wings had felt right.

And eventually, Ness was ready. And so not ready. What if people laughed? What if people didn’t get it? What if it made them all start putting Ness into boxes? All the things Ness normally said it was a waste of time and energy to care about were plaguing the Aladren as the two of them prepared to leave MARS. Though, past Ness was right. It was stupid to worry about stuff like that.

Also, Evelyn and The Forces That Willed stuff were on Ness’ side. This was not one of the original outfits that Evelyn had suggested, but of those, there had been one that had scored the highest charisma roll (quite, quite literally - a D20 was an absolutely essential shopping aid when you thought that you might hate everything). It had then just been a case of refining that. Ending up… here.

Once they got to the hall, Evelyn had to peel off to go find Heinrich and be paraded (yikes). Ness wished her luck, and marched off, ready to face the rest of the room, shoulders squared, head up. The thick, combat-style boots clomped against the floor as Ness went in.

Once the prefect dance was over (Ness shot Evelyn a casual thumbs up), Ness began to scan the room. Aware that eyes were probably judging what Ness was wearing it was time to do the damn same to everyone else. The first person to catch Ness’ eye was Lyssa Fitzgerald. In a suit.

Lyssa had been a source of fascination for some time. The Teppenpaw was a highly frequent library visitor, but one that Ness had tended to observe more than approach. Lyssa often raided the fiction section, amongst others. This was a good enough quality that Ness had sort of been meaning to approach Lyssa for a while. Blue suit notched that up a good few places though.

Ness didn’t get an opportunity until Lyssa was staffing the consent stand. Which, again, frigging awesome. It seemed to be more Cleo’s thing, and therefore by proxy Parker’s thing, and thus possible by proxy by proxy Lyssa’s, but the whole stand was making several people go up in Ness’ estimations. Cleo had never been on the Aladren’s radar (until she suddenly had been on everyone’s) but this suggested she was less of a little blonde pushover than the brief non-impression she’d given up until that point had suggested. Parker was always cool at DnD and this… Ness did not want to give out brownie points for things that should have been basic good humaning but the ‘should have’ was the key phrase there. The Aladren was not going to fawn over him or pat him on the back for doing this but… he was a good human. He could have good human points.

And Lyssa. Lyssa was clearly just… everything Ness wanted people to be like. Whether that meant Ness wanted to make friends, make out, or compete - or all three - was still somewhat undecided as the Aladren headed over to the booth.

“I’m glad someone went for that look,” Ness stated, nodding at Lyssa’s suit. “I considered something similar but I figured it wouldn’t really be surprising on me.” The short strappy red satin dress that Ness was currently wearing definitely met that definition. Partly just for the vivid colour, and partly because Ness had never ever worn anything like it. It was firmly counterpointed by the fishnet tights, combat boots, black feathered wings and heavy eye make-up. Ness’ eyes were a mass of black, partly to evoke the feeling of warpaint and partly because it was, apparently, difficult to be neat when you’d never done anything like it before. Ness had firmly decided that doing what other people would deem a ‘bad job’ was a good thing. It subverted the intended purpose of make-up to wear it in an aggressive fashion that made you less attractive to conventional people. Hopefully it still made you more attractive to less conventional ones… Evelyn had helped and smoothed and tamed, within the brief of ‘but still aggressive-looking.’

“I’m going for a kind of harbinger of queerness vibe,” Ness stated, because to Ness that sounded cool, and because it would have been entirely off-brand to not come out with something slightly weird, awkward and gay.

“If you’re doing this again anytime,” here Ness gestured to the booth, “let me know. We’ve got loads of consent pamphlets and stuff.”

13 Ness McLeod I am the harbinger of queerness (tag Lyssa) 1419 0 5

Isabella Harrington

April 25, 2020 7:11 AM

We could be not-wallflowers together? by Isabella Harrington

Bella would probably not have mentioned such a thing out loud but her mood lifted when Sadie (a pretty name to go with a nice face) sat next to her. Sitting on her own had made her feel like a sore thumb sticking out. It had been obvious that she was alone with no date or even a friend. She couldn't call Sadie a friend given that they'd only just met but at least sitting next to each other created what Bella thought was an acceptable image. She could now be seen to socialise and be friendly, instead of being the lonely girl with no friends. This was a big improvement on her previous circumstances.

"Yes," she confirmed for Sadie, nodding. "It's my third year."

Now that Sadie was sitting next to her, Bella felt that she could look at her properly without it being weird. She hadn't seen the girl before this year and was fairly certain that they had shared Beginners classes together. Too young to be an Advanced student, Bella was confident in assuming that Sadie was a first year which then made Bella wonder if she had become some sort of beacon for first years to gravitate to. Leonor had done it Tumbleweed and now Sadie was doing it. Odd.

"How are you liking Sonora?" Bella asked her. This was a safe question. It wasn't too prying into Sadie's background or personal life so as to make her uncomfortable or to scare her off and there was next to no risk of a personal question being turned on Bella. That was fine. Only friends got to ask personal questions.

20 Isabella Harrington We could be not-wallflowers together? 1435 0 5

Malikhi Hill

April 25, 2020 7:31 AM

I'm not sure 'wooooo' is the mood anymore. by Malikhi Hill

If there was one thing Malikhi was grateful for in this moment, it was that Hana didn't pry any further and ask any questions. He had found over the years that people tended to ask questions when they found him upset and he'd grown to dislike it. Sometimes, questions were hard to answer because feelings were difficult to explain. This had been a particular hurdle in his sessions with his therapist, following the accident. Malikhi did not have the words to describe just how badly he felt at times and yet some people pushed and pushed and pushed until he broke. Malikhi didn't know the reason why Hana didn't ask any further questions but he found that he didn't care. It just meant something that she didn't.

On the subject of Hana's younger brother, Malikhi did give a cursory glance around the room to see if he could spot the younger boy. He thought he may have caught a glimpse of blond hair across the room but given that he was leading Hana into another spin, he returned his focus to not stepping on her feet.

Focused as he was at not screwing up dancing, he nearly missed Hana's comment and question. It made him falter and he nearly tripped over his own feet. Blushing as he had to pause their dance and right himself, he took the moment to answer.

"They are good people," he murmured. It wasn't a complete lie. He thought his mother was the best woman in the world. They had had problems communicating at times in recent years but Malikhi had always been able to depend on her and as he straightened his robes, he just heard the rustle of the letter he'd tucked away, reminding him that she was even there now, if only in spirit. His father had been a good person. A strong man who supported his family and Malikhi had idolised him. However, since the accident, Malikhi had found many faults with his father and had been (and still was, some days) very angry. It was useless, Malikhi knew, to be angry at a dead man but where else could he put that emotion?

So, for one night, Malikhi was happy to pretend that both of his parents were still alive and that nothing was wrong because that soothed the anger, soothed the pain and avoided creating any awkwardness or upset. This was supposed to be a wonderful evening of dancing and eating and laughing and being dressed like a prince and a princess. He wasn't going to ruin that for either himself or Hana. For one night, Malikhi could pretend that it wasn't Christmas that had stolen his father away. He could pretend he didn't hate it.

"I like Christmas," he told her, a swell of guilt knotting his stomach but he pushed it away. He would not ruin the night. "I love all the lights and the all the red and green. Decorating a Christmas tree is one of my favourite things to do."

His trip had stopped them dancing and it felt a little awkward to continue so he offered Hana his arm instead and asked, "Shall we go get something to eat?"

20 Malikhi Hill I'm not sure 'wooooo' is the mood anymore. 1423 0 5

Bridget Ferguson

April 25, 2020 6:01 PM

Exactly what I feared. Exactly what I expected by Bridget Ferguson

Even though she had friends to hang out with, Bridget still wasn't all that excited about the ball. She was not the best dancer out there. Not that there was anyone to dance with, really. Felipe, as predicted, was going with Zara and honestly the Teppenpaw wouldn't do that to her roommate anyway. Julius had asked Allegra Brockert. Martin was her cousin.

Honestly, Bridget was pretty glad she had no shot whatsoever at prefect or Head Student. Having to do something she wasn't very good at in front of everyone, even on the off chance that she had a date four years from now, sounded quite terrible. The Challenges had been bad enough what with the physical aspects. Public humiliation was not an experience Bridget wanted to repeat.

Of course, with the Challenges, it ended up being the last one that was most embarrassing. Discussing family traditions seemed innocuous enough-when one had normal family. Which Bridget didn't. It wasn't even her parents specifically, it was....well, the whole thing. She didn't have a family that was even remotely traditional, thanks to her grandfathers. Pretty much everything from Grandmother Rosemary being crazy to her father being an alcoholic was Grandfather Ferguson's fault. Fortunately, Bridget's dad, for all his flaws, had done his very best to keep her away from Grandfather. He wouldn't let that man do to her what he'd done to Dad and Grandmother.

She watched as the prefect dance began. Bridget spotted Dorian Montoir dancing with a guy. Who wasn't a student. Sophia was probably going to be livid about the non-student bit. It seemed like just the sort of thing that the Aladren would be mad about.

The third year waited for the prefects to finish dancing and headed over to the buffet, looking around for Jezebel and Josie. Bridget spotted both of them talking to others. So much for sticking together. She thought, trying not to be hurt. Of course, the exact pact had been no dates, but that implied sticking together. And both Connor and Sophia were apparently occupied too, the former with Peyton of course, and the latter was talking to Jeremy Mordue. That didn't surprise the Teppenpaw. Sophia was beautiful and Jeremy was the sort who seemed like he felt entitled to be with the prettiest girl in the room.

As for herself, this had been exactly what Bridget had feared, herself, standing alone, looking awkward and munching on shrimp. She could not wait for this night to be over.

11 Bridget Ferguson Exactly what I feared. Exactly what I expected 1448 0 5

Jezebel Reed-Fischer

April 25, 2020 6:09 PM

I'm here! by Jezebel Reed-Fischer

"Hey!" Jezebel called out to her friend, glad for a familiar face. Glad for a simple, uncomplicated friendship. She'd taken the chance to introduce herself to Dorian and his boyfriend mostly on impulse and she wasn't exactly unhappy that sh' done it, but it was unusual of her. She didn't want to spend the whole night that way, and their conversation didn't last long. Bridget, to Jezebel's dismay, had not found anyone to occupy the first part of her night. "Sorry, I wanted to introduce myself," she said, settling on polite honesty. It was the case, she just didn't want to say why she'd wanted to introduce herself. She hadn't even been upfront with them about that, and keeping secrets was easier than admitting them. Particularly when she was feeling as distasteful about them as she was.

She drew up next to her friend - her friend! - and surveyed the room, glad once again that they hadn't brought dates. It was nice to be here with Bridget and with Josie when the latter finished her conversation. At least Jezebel assumed that would be the case. The younger girl was very bubbly and probably wanted to meet people more than Jezebel or Bridget did.

"Shrimp any good?" she asked, taking a look at what Bridget was eating and realizing that she herself was starving. She'd made her way to the drink table and then forgotten to get herself anything. "You look beautiful by the way. Like really really beautiful. I love your hair!"

22 Jezebel Reed-Fischer I'm here! 1454 0 5

Felipe De Matteo

April 25, 2020 6:22 PM

Take two. Or as many as you'd like. Action! by Felipe De Matteo

The night was going swimmingly well and Felipe was surprised to find himself feeling utterly at ease. It was the first time he could remember feeling that comfortable in a very long time. Being around Zara in the Gardens and things made him feel at ease, but he hadn't felt that way around others of his classmates ever. He did wonder at times what they saw. Did they see the way Leonor held her head up with a little more strain, the pressure of her new title pulling her down? Did they see the way Felipe was a little softer? A little more himself? Maybe they didn't know enough about him to tell the difference, but he could feel it. He could feel lots of things.

Felipe had seen Jessica, as anyone was wont to at a school this size at a function attended by most if not all of the student body. She was lovely in a sad, tragic sort of way, and it Felipe a minute to realize that she wasn't the tragic one. The fact that he looked at her like a classmate was the tragic part, and he thought that that would probably never stop hurting. He didn't know whether he wanted that friendship back, or if indeed getting it back was even possible, but he knew that he'd screwed up. Jessica had, too. That didn't seem to matter so much to Leonor or Mara, but it mattered to them and they couldn't keep going that way. It felt very much as if he'd been walking down a path that closed itself off before he could decide where he wanted to go, only to find that he'd played a role in closing it off. It hurt, but it was good. And she looked happy, which was also good.

It was surprising he'd seen much of anything beside Zara though, to be honest. Jessica had only kept his attention for a moment, as had the consent booth, which had gotten his mind turning at things he had never thought much about before with any intentionality, because most of his mind was taken up with Zara. She hadn't stopped drawing him in, although he was a bit less starstruck than he'd been at first. After the initial awe wore off, she was still just Zara, and that was nice. It had been lovely to dance with her. Really, it was nice to dance at all. Felipe missed that part of some of the functions he'd attended before Sonora, and it was nice to do something that felt like maybe he could be a proper gentleman without screwing it up by thinking too much. He could waltz in his sleep, and this hardly called for such a performance.

The greater surprise, though, was that Felipe wasn't tired at all. Normally, he would have been exhausted after even an hour at a function like this. Tonight, though, seemed like maybe it would never end, and maybe that would be perfect. He was very awake and very aware and very taken in by the comings and goings and happenings and every other little thing about the Ball. The ebb and flow of a hundred (probably less than a hundred but still) moving bodies was hypnotising.

He and Zara had found a quieter spot to chat for a moment, happy to get a breath of air that wasn't full of body heat and sweat and perfume, and it turned out to be a welcome relief from the noise of it all too. Felipe wondered whether this was how bees felt when they curled up to rest inside flowers.

"Are you having a good time?" he asked Zara, smiling and flushed. His hair was probably sticking up all sorts of weird angles and his cheeks were notably rosy, but he was happy and lighter than usual. "I'm really happy to be here with you. 'Fun,' I think you called it?" he cocked an eyebrow and smirked playfully, watching her with warm eyes.

22 Felipe De Matteo Take two. Or as many as you'd like. Action! 1434 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 26, 2020 8:58 AM

Thank you, it could do with improvement. by Nathaniel Mordue

When Ivy remarked that she wanted to do 'real news' rather than society gossip, Nathaniel's expression changed very slightly, and his next smile was fractionally warmer and more natural than the polite variety he had been mustering up over and over and over again all evening. It was a subtle change, perhaps not even noticeable, but present.

"Nor I," he said.

Then, of course, his old friend tapped on his shoulder, so to speak. Reminded him that he was being an idiot. Of course anyone reasonably polite would pretend not to be terribly interested in gossip in front of someone whose entire life had, more or less, been ruined by it. It would have been passive-aggressive at best to do otherwise, and Ivy had no real reason to be passive-aggressive toward him. He had just done her a favor (admittedly, a rather self-serving one - but the Head Girl sitting out the dance would have made rather more of an impression than one of the Teppenpaw prefects doing so, especially when one of the other Teppenpaw prefects was doing such a marvellous job of drawing negative attention to himself), after all, and they were...broadly from the same part of the country, anyway (he could never remember which Brockerts lived where, and suspected they just referred to themselves as 'western' because the majority of them couldn't remember where the others were either). He was functionally nobody now, but the little sideshow he'd put on on the wagon platform last year meant that it was generally correct to pretend that this wasn't the case. Plus, he rather suspected that Sylvia would make any girl who pointed out his...social deficits...to him wish she'd never been born, by the time Sylvia was done with her....

He could never decide if he found a level of comfort in that, or if it was just another humiliation - that he needed to be looked after by a girl. He tried not to think about it much. Besides, it wasn't just 'a girl,' it was Sylvia. That did make a difference, he told himself.

"I suppose they are related sometimes, though," he mused. "If gossip changes the disposal of a fortune, or causes someone to resign an office. I'm not sure there's any real avoiding it, though I approve of everyone trying their best."

16 Nathaniel Mordue Thank you, it could do with improvement. 1412 0 5

Morgan Garrett

April 26, 2020 9:39 AM

I suspect sarcasm. by Morgan Garrett

Morgan's cheeks turned a color in the same family as both red and coral, albeit not the purest version of either, as Leonor's response concluded. Morgan had been trying to be nice, and address Leonor's objection to her own dress. Her tone implied she was not grateful, or even possessed of the manners God gave a goat, and Morgan's first impulse was to tell her to go shove a branch of coral where the sun did not shine.

She bit back the impulse, though, because Anna had always said that no lady would ever make any reference to that particular saying. Unexpectedly, though, another memory floated up, one from after Anna's death - one from last May, actually, last Derby Day, when she and Dad and Sage had been watching the Derby on a borrowed TV.

"D---!" her father exclaimed as the horse he'd bet a whole packet of M&Ms on was overtaken by another. Immediately, another horse also overtook the favorite, and Dad had frowned. "That's not right," he said, sounding half-confused, and half-perturbed. "It didn't work."

"What didn't work?" asked Morgan.

"I always heard at home that if you say 'd--- it,' that fix everything," said Dad, though he did not quite keep a straight face as he did so. Sage looked baffled, Morgan suspected as much by his grammar as by the superstition. Morgan, however, was not surprised; Dad's long-buried accent tended to poke the crown of its head, anyway, above ground any time he quoted something from home, and she bet it didn't help that this was the one day of the year Dad drank anything (a thing Morgan still struggled to wrap her head around; she had never met another grown man without obvious health problems who didn't touch the sauce for 363 days of the year). One julep wasn't enough to make most people forget to play Yankee when they had as much practice as Dad, but most grown-up people drank more than once a year, and not only when actively choosing to remind themselves where they came from. Morgan wished she could figure out how to turn her accent off for one day a year, never mind the majority of the whole year.

"I've heard that one, too," said Morgan. "Gran-Gran says it. Anna said there wasn't no good in cussing, though."

"Sounds like something Annabeth would say," said Dad. "I don't know. I did learn at that school, though - when you want to tell somebody to shove up it they a-- " ("David!" gasped Sage, apparently scandalized by such language in the presence of a child, still clearly not able to get her head around the fact that this was just how people at home talked all the time) "that the real thing to do is try and make 'em look stupid with the trivia stuff you know."

"I don't know a lotta trivia, though," pointed out Morgan. Dad and Sage could both beat her at trivia games any time.

"S---, kid, you know more about Jackie O. than a coupla historians I met. You can think of something. Plus, if they look like they'll fall for it, just make something up."

"It's one shade-a coral," said Morgan, her smile now distinctly less friendly than usual. "Coral comes up in a lotta colors. Some of them are about Crotalus red. Some of them's white. And there's a lotta pink and orange in the middle. You can find necklaces with all of em. It ain't a very good descriptive term."

She raised her eyebrows as Leonor explained why she had long-ranging plans. Inheriting an estate? No wonder she seemed so haughty. The only times Morgan had ever heard anyone use the term estate unironically had involved estate sales and occasionally contested wills in the newspaper. She was glad when the conversation moved to something more relatable.

"Summer's a good time just to take it as it comes," she agreed. "I think I'm supposed to stay with Dad first for a while, since I was with Momma and the other family at Christmas. Unless they changed up. Guess I'll find out tomorrow," she said matter-of-factly. "Where're you and your estate from?" she asked, mainly out of pure idle curiosity.

16 Morgan Garrett I suspect sarcasm. 1470 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

April 26, 2020 10:43 AM

No really. Backstage with you is tough. by Leonor De Matteo

Morgan blushed and Leonor sat back in her chair, disappointed. Everyone here was so boring. They were blades of grass in a field: indistinct, unimportant, and only functionally useful for stepping on. Leonor almost wanted to go find Jeremy Mordue because at least she knew he'd put up a fight. Also, he'd probably enjoy pissing Felipe off and what was better for that then hanging out with his sister? The idea was tempting but it would certainly not be acceptable family behavior and Leonor would undoubtedly lose Felipe's help. Or would she? Perhaps he'd be too nice. Lord knew he'd always tried to be. Or maybe he wouldn't find out? That was lame. Jeremy would probably rub it in, right? Leonor made a note to find out whether he had a date tonight as Morgan finally responded.

Her face was emotionless, if proud, as Morgan went on her tirade and when she was done, Leonor was quiet. Her lips pressed into a wry, satisfied smile, and one eyebrow raised. It was the look of approval, although she doubted very much that Morgan would want her approval. Finally, someone was meeting her toe-to-toe and not just backing down. Perhaps this one could be a daisy instead of a blade of grass.

"You're right," Leonor conceded, any hardness gone from her voice. "But wouldn't it be funny if all the Crotali had pink everything instead of red?"

Morgan's family dynamic was completely foreign to Leonor, and she was beginning to wonder whether she was the odd one out. Mara and Jessica didn't have a "normal" family, apparently Morgan didn't either, Josie didn't . . . did anyone in this school have two happy parents and a reasonable childhood? She remembered the look on Jessica and Mara's faces when she explained that the De Matteos weren't rich, and she wondered whether it was a matter of the De Matteos being different than other families, or Leonor thinking less highly of her own family line than others might have from the outside.

"Spontaneity can be fun," Leonor commented. "So long as you like both your parents." She was a bit surprised that Morgan asked about Leonor's estate. It was not a topic she would have expected the Aladren to be interested in, all things considered. "The estate is Los Jardines de Plata, in Mexico. But my family's subjects live in the annex town of Ciudad de Matteo."

22 Leonor De Matteo No really. Backstage with you is tough. 1471 0 5

Hilda Hexenmeister

April 26, 2020 1:09 PM

Das ist nicht mein Ding by Hilda Hexenmeister

Hilda was not into Balls. She wasn't into dresses. She wasn't into make up. She brushed her hair everyday and felt this was a sufficient amount of effort to make toward her appearance on a regular basis. On special occasions - such as days where she had Quidditch or Potions - she went so far as to braid it. The Ball was not a special occasion. The Ball was a cruel joke because balls were used in sports and this had nothing to do with sports. This was dancing and looking pretty, neither of which held much interest for Hilda.

Johana Leonie seemed excited about it though, so she was happy for her friend. And Hilda had other friends, most of which didn't seem to have dates either, so it was fine. She'd have people to talk to. Nobody was going to expect her to do anything she didn't want to do. Except maybe dress up.

So here she was. Looking fancy. But not in a dress. She was still wearing robes. But they weren't green or brown. They were purple, a deep dark purple. Like Eggplants. But not the color named after eggplants. Like an actual eggplant. An eggplant that was basically black and only looked purple if you knew that's the color it was supposed to be. And they had a nice cut and felt heavy on her shoulders. She liked a pair of robes with a good weight to them.

Oh, and the robes had a bowtie. Because this was a formal event. And when Heinrich said something about dresses she had pointed out he wasn't wearing one, and he had said he was wearing dress robes with a bowtie, so Hilda took that to mean she was supposed to wear a bowtie with her dress robes, too. She'd picked one up in Tumbleweed. She'd even gotten the store person to charm it to just the right shade of black-eggplant, too, so it matched. Americans were so weird sometimes. But she kind of liked how it looked. It was fancy, but a good fancy.

She entered the Hall and saw most of the girls had gone with the dress look, but at least one other was in a bowtie, if not robes, so it was all good. She fit in well enough.

Heinrich had to do the Prefect Dance, and Hilda was glad it was not her. As that ended, she decided she was going to find something to eat. She achieved that objective but before she could go looking to find one of the German Tent girls, she heard someone say something to her.

1 Hilda Hexenmeister Das ist nicht mein Ding 1433 0 5

Lyssa Fitzgerald

April 26, 2020 1:20 PM

Queer Ness, you've peaked my inquisitiveness. by Lyssa Fitzgerald

The music flowed through the room and one set of feet couldn't help but at least sway a bit. The intoxicating feel of the rhythm with the finery of everyone made Lyssa sway back and forth behind the consent stand in the back of the room where she stood alone.

When Cleo had first approached Lyssa to help her find her voice, Lyssa had assumed they would write a few articles and piece together a few actions for other women to take. But once Cleo had thought about what she wanted to say, she essentially stepped up to a microphone, banged on it to get the attention of everyone, and then launched into a well thought out screed. Or at least, that's what it seemed like to Lyssa. Lyssa had told Cleo that she'd be happy to help her in any way that she could. So Lyssa had worked with Cleo on a slogan, made buttons and promised to staff the table before Parker had blundered into the whole situation.

She had to admit that Parker was fairly… romantically inclined, when she heard about the garden ask. Almost more so than Lyssa felt inclined. Knowing Cleo's plans, she'd tried to forewarn Parker when asked about "how to ask someone out." He hadn't been subtle or straight forward either. Lyssa had thought that Cleo might want as much support as she could get. Still, Lyssa was proud, though not really surprised, of her older brother's support for Cleo. Lyssa cared a little bit about what people thought generally, but when it came to Parker, she cared a lot. So the fact that Parker was so supportive of Cleo's initiative meant he was supportive of the new initiative that Lyssa had signed on to as well. An effort that she could sink her teeth into.

Lyssa hoped that Cleo and Parker could also find some time for fun and a drink tonight. So after some time at the booth, Lyssa had taken over. She not so secretly hoped she could test her iron against another iron, or at least raise some money for some excellent causes.

She was mid groove with her eyes partially closed when she saw black wings coming towards her. Her eyes returned to focus and found herself staring at Ness McLeod wearing… a sleek red dress?

Lyssa cocked an eyebrow up as Ness walked up. Lyssa had not spent much time talking with Ness. Even though they were in a small school and the same grade, she'd only really ever talked to Ness in classes. For bit last year, Lyssa had thought of joining the DnD campaign, hearing it when she was in the library reading Wizarding fiction or writing letters to the editor. She knew Ness was a part of that. Lyssa had figured though that was something she'd let Parker have without her. They already shared the gardening club, and now Cleo's Consent Campaign.

Lyssa made a mental note about CCC being a good NGO name (or just the Campaign name generally) as Ness made the last of her stride up to the table. Lyssa was intrigued, she couldn't put her finger on it, but Ness was suddenly someone Lyssa wanted to know more about.

Lyssa looked down at her suit as Ness mentioned it and smiled. It did look good on her, and no one else had seemed to notice it. "Thank you Ness. Who says suits are just for men or the vestments of masculinity," Lyssa pulled the lapels of the jacket a bit, "I think I pull it off quite nicely. Though, changing it to Suede took a bit more work than I anticipated. I think it would have worked just as nicely in the cotton variety. Would have been less warm too. I think your outfit allows you to be cooler."

Lyssa was feeling warm. She was sure it was because of the dancing she was doing behind the table, as well as the fact that she was in the back of the room, farthest from the doors. She could feel sweat forming on her arms and back. Lyssa started to take off her jacket. Leaving her in a buttoned down white dress shirt with ruffles down the front and a black bowtie. She let out a sigh of relief as the cool air worked it's way through the cotton and touched her arms.

"Harbinger of queerness…" Lyssa turned the phrase over in her mouth as she looked Ness up and down, pretending to judge if Ness's outfit qualified. Lyssa wasn't sure she could judge such a thing, to be honest. Lyssa had never thought much one way or another about her own sexuality. She merely knew when she liked someone and when she didn't. Though someone not liking others because of who they liked, that was something that would cause Lyssa not to like you. The bit she knew about Ness, this was not going to be a problem, her statement about her clothes solidified that it wouldn't be.

"I was going to say a Valkyrie ready to devour the souls of those you deemed unworthy and transport those who you deemed worthy to Valhala. Though," Lyssa brought a finger to her lips, pretending to be in thought for a second, "they might just be one in the same." Lyssa knew she was trying to start a bit of a sparing session with Ness. But not in the way she had with Nathaniel, but in a more friendly way. A way she found fun. She couldn't help but smile.

Ness's offer of help gave Lyssa pause. Having a McLeod help would definitely raise the profile of whatever she and Cleo were doing. Plus, consent pamphlets would be useful at all times. Maybe she could set up a flyer or pamphlet station in the library like the McLeod's had.

Lyssa had helped Cleo plan this, but Cleo was the main power, the Queen if you will. Lyssa was more the power behind the throne. As such, Lyssa felt weird about bringing others on without first talking with Cleo, but she could see how having Ness would help with some of what Cleo seemed to want to do. Plus, the McLeods had a lot more experience with this kind of thing than either Lyssa or Cleo. Not to mention, possible connections.

"That would be really helpful. Thank you for the offer Ness. Cleo and I have been trying to figure out the best ways for Cleo to use her voice, so this was all a bit under wraps before we unveiled it. Didn't want people upset before it was even a thing. I think it went fairly well, considering I've only written letters to the editor and Cleo is…" Lyssa tried to think of a term that wasn't shy, because Cleo wasn't shy, she was just not a fan of being taken advantage of, "unused to being as in the public eye. But I'm sure you would be a big help..."

Lyssa slowed down as a piece of her brain caught up with her. So many of the things that she had learned about in different myths had turned out to be real in the last few years.

"Wait, are Valkyrie real? Cause if so, I would love to join them when I get out of school."

41 Lyssa Fitzgerald Queer Ness, you've peaked my inquisitiveness. 1421 0 5

Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

April 26, 2020 1:59 PM

Shoooooot. by Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

Talk of parents and Christmas made Johana Leonie homesick. She knew that she'd be seeing her family soon - maybe too soon - and that she'd miss Sonora when she was in Germany, but she couldn't help it. Family was important to her and she felt guilty for being away from their patients still. "My Familie gives me this dress on Christmas," she said, smiling softly.

They tumbled a bit through the dance and Johana Leonie smiled encouragingly, hoping to make it clear that she didn't mind. These things happened even for experienced dancers and she suspected Kai was not one. She wasn't terribly sad about it though because dancing and being homesick were just a bit much. She wanted to enjoy this evening thinking of all the pretty lights that were here, not the ones on the Christmas tree for the holiday at home.

"Food is good," she smiled, putting one hand on her belly. She hadn't eaten for probably too long because she'd been anxious for the Ball, but now the Ball was here and her accidental fasting was catching up to her. "I want that I also Hilda find," she said, not sure where her friend had gone and spotting her when she turned around to look. "You can come, oder you can food get. Then come?" she smiled a little leaving it open before heading off to find Hilda.

22 Johana Leonie Zauberhexen Shoooooot. 1432 0 5

Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

April 26, 2020 2:05 PM

Es ist mein! by Johana Leonie Zauberhexen

Johana Leonie wound through the people milling about and found Hilda, looking fabulous. She always looked good, but eggplant was a great color on her and the bowtie worked surprisingly well too. It was an ensemble that made Johana Leonie wonder if a darker color would have been better than the light pink she'd gone with, except that she felt pretty in it and that was really the point of this whole thing.

"You look beautiful!" she cooed on approach, happy to use German again. She felt very fancy next to her fancy friend with her fancy purple robes, complementing the whole thing with her own splashes of bright colors. It was sort of lovely that all the students and staff were dressed up, looking fancy, and looking wonderful. It was the sort of affair that Johana Leonie was glad she would get to do twice. "Everyone does. What did you think of the prefect dance? Heinrich did well!"

It was nice to be friends with someone with an older brother. Although Johana Leonie had momentarily been wondering whether Heinrich might be a good possible match for her, she saw the virtue in having a surrogate older brother, and he looked happy enough with his date tonight that Johana Leonie was happy for him - and her - and didn't mind a bit. Kai was much easier to talk to than the older Hexenmeister anyway.

22 Johana Leonie Zauberhexen Es ist mein! 1432 0 5

Morgan Garrett

April 26, 2020 4:13 PM

I suspect you are not complimenting me, then. by Morgan Garrett

Morgan had no idea what this girl's problem was. One minute, she was nearly snapping Morgan's nose off over the definition of coral and the difference between red and coral - and the next, she looked almost approving, and was speaking more nicely again, and being amused at the idea of Crotali wearing pink.

Huh. Apparently Dad was right. There was more than one way to insult someone who was acting in a way often summarized with, for some reason, the technical term for a female dog. And a far more effective one, she suspected, than just asking Leonor who had peed in her cornflakes this morning.

"Matter of taste I suppose," she said, less stiffly than she had given her mini-lecture on the range of colors found in corals, but still not as warmly as she usually would, not quite willing to play along again yet. For all she knew, Leonor could promptly turn around and start taking whatever the heck her problem was out on Morgan all over again. She was still confused how this person appeared to have two humans who sometimes spoke to her voluntarily, especially one of whom Morgan knew at least well enough to know that she wasn't a total jerk to someone who'd never done anything to her. Mara was kind of reserved, but she wasn't just snappy with Morgan and Josie for no reason.

"I like my parents fine," she agreed. "And my stepmom. They're all pretty decent parents, I reckon." Her eyebrows raised yet higher as 'the estate' was discussed further. "Sub-jects," she repeated. "Ain't we fancy. I didn't know wizards had their own royalty. Especially in countries that they told us in school were supposed to be democracies." She knew, admittedly, very little about the nature of the wizarding world and its governments, but she did know that Mexico was supposed to be a presidential democracy. Corruption and stuff caused problems, so it wasn't the best example on the planet or anything, but that was their official form of government. "Are they all wizards?"

16 Morgan Garrett I suspect you are not complimenting me, then. 1470 0 5

Caitlin Pierce

April 26, 2020 4:15 PM

Unacceptable by Caitlin Pierce

Caitlin had somewhat been looking forward to the ball. Well, she'd looked forward to dressing up in her very finest at least as opposed to the shapeless plain green sacks that they were usually in. Honestly, the fact that the Crotalus had to dress the same as everyone else including Muggleborns and boys and Muggleborn boys was terrible. Caitlin very much wanted to assert that she was not like these people. Honestly, the most important lesson she'd learned over the past five years was not in Transfiguration or Charms, it was in the importance of accessories.

Anyway, for the ball, the Anns had designed her a gorgeous one of a kind custom gown. It was a strapless sea-green ballgown with gauzy layered skirts and a heavily sequined bodice. It was beautiful-and a good deal better than some people were dressed. Lyssa Fitzgerald, Katerina's weirdo roommate, was wearing men's clothing and Nessa McLeod looked like a woman of ill repute who happened to also be randomly wearing wings. Caitlin had known that this was not going to be like the society balls she was used to attending, as they had to allow the non-purebloods to attend but this was ridiculous. These people just plain did not know how to behave in public. The school should have lessons on proper etiquette for those who didn't know it. The staff and the prairie elves had tried their best to make this ball as nice as possible for what it was and these people were ruining it!

Anyway, Caitlin had spent the year assuming Nathaniel was going to go with her, if not of his own accord, at Sylvia's insistance. Then she'd found out he was doing the opening dance with Ivy Brockert instead. She had been unhappy to put it mildly. At least it was Ivy though, rather than Allegra or Topaz or Katerina, as the seventh year also had to do the opening dance whereas the fourth year girls did not. Not that she begrudged her friends dates, it was just that Caitlin was the one in need of a partner.

Fortunately, at the last minute, Beau Tate came to her rescue. He had some less than desirable traits but he was also the Brockert family patriarch's great-great-grandson and was still better than public humiliation.

She and Beau took the floor with the others and their dates-and Caitlin could not believe what was happening. Not only were there people dressed in inappropriate attire, Dorian Montoir was dancing with some guy! How was that even allowed?

Once they finished, she turned to Beau and asked. "Could you please get me some punch?"

11 Caitlin Pierce Unacceptable 1415 0 5

Gabriel Wilson

April 26, 2020 5:59 PM

You can't say my posts aren't educational by Gabriel Wilson

CW-Talks about spiders

A ball was not really something that Gabriel thought looked like a good time. There were no books there! Well, minus the one that he'd put in the pockets of his dress robes. Books were to the Aladren what lipstick was to some girls-something he did not leave home without. He felt it necessary just in case he got bored. Dancing was something he knew how to do but did not find as interesting as reading. How could waltzing around possibly compare to the fact that the scientific term for brain freeze was sphenopalatine ganglioneuralgia or that if a polar bear and grizzly bear mated their offspring would be called a pizzy bear.

He watched politely as the prefects danced, glad that Ivy had found someone to dance with. Gabriel would not want her to be embarrassed. Then he walked over to get something to eat. Not only was he hungry but food was an interesting topic in and of itself. Foreign food, in particular. Some foreign people ate things that Americans would not dream of. Like Cambodians ate spiders. This wasn't even a traditional dish. They had been forced to eat arachnids out of necessity and then developed a taste for them . Which sounded gross, to be honest.

There was a lot of good spider trivia though. Like that there were approximately 38,00 known species and it was thought that there were more to be discovered. They were found on every continent except for Antartica. It was estimated that a human was never more than ten feet away from a spider and in rare instances, some spider bites can cause blood disorders. For example, the brown recluse venom could cause red blood cells to burst. That could lead to other symptoms, such as acute kidney injury and jaundice. Jaundice was a condition that caused skin and the whites of someone's eyes to turn yellow because they had too much bilirubin, which was a yellow chemical in hemoglobin. Which was likely why a red blood cell bursting could cause jaundice.

Gabriel was happy to see that, whatever else was in the buffet, it wasn't spiders. He decided on a pasta dish and took a seat. The Aladren could feel his book burning a hole in his pocket and so he took it out and began to read, careful not to get food on it. That would be a terrible crime against nature!

Spider facts here-https://www.factretriever.com/spider-facts

11 Gabriel Wilson You can't say my posts aren't educational 1481 0 5

Anya Delachene

April 26, 2020 7:10 PM

Is this thing mandatory? by Anya Delachene

Anya did not want to do a Ball. She did not want to wear a fancy dress. She did not want to pretend she was a princess. She did not want to watch other people dance. Her mom had sent her back to Sonora with a dress that looked like it belonged in a Disney movie (and probably did). On the day of the ball, Anya stood in her room and stared at it. It was a pink monstrosity with ribbons and ruffles. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

Throughout her life, Anya had been forcibly educated in Disney Lore, so when a sudden desire to follow in the footsteps of a different Anastasia to the Dreamworks one she had been named for overcame her, Mom really only had herself to blame. Giving her the same name as an evil stepsister and then making her watch Cinderella. What did she think would happen?

"My ribbon!" Anya declared in a falsetto voice, and yanked a pink ribbon from the hideous thing hanging from a hook on her wall. It tore free. "My beads!" she exclaimed, changing her voice slightly to mimic being the other step sister. This dress didn't actually have beads on it, but she pointed her wand at the offending formalwear, muttered an incantation, and some rhinestones flew off of it. "That's my sash!" She flicked her wand again and another bit of ribbon came flying off of it.

A few minutes later, it looked about as lovely as Cinderella's had after the step-sisters were done with it, and Anya's room was a bigger and glitzier mess than it usually was.

Also like Cinderella, Anya had a ball starting in just a few minutes and no dress to wear. Unlike Cinderella, her mother wasn't going to stand for her sitting it out. So she opened her trunk to see what else she had to wear. Though, truthfully, if it wasn't pink, she'd just wear the remains of what was left of her dress. All the other offensive parts had been removed, and she sort of like the tattered look.

She pulled a few options out her trunk, discarding each one. Her normal clothes were fine for normal occasions but this was anything but normal, and Jasmine was absolutely going to tattle on her to Mom, so she had to make some kind of effort.

"A-ha!" she crowed after a few more pairs of shorts and shirts and pants were tossed aside. She held up her find in triumph. It was glittery. It was sleek. It was a nicely feminine purple with an almost floral design in sparkles. Mom had even bought it for her and indicated some measure of approval for it. And Anya loved it.

She put it on over a pair of black tights and pulled on the appropriate shoes to go with it, and headed down to the Cascade Hall.

She grinned in victory whenever eyes turned her way. This was a much better look for her. This was how she liked to do her dancing. Unfortunately, the space cleared for the prefect couples would soon be far too crowded to do any of her favorite moves there.

If she tried a backhandspring with this big of a crowd around her someone was going to get kicked in the face.

OOC: Anya's ball attire

1 Anya Delachene Is this thing mandatory? 1453 0 5

Zara Jackson

April 26, 2020 10:34 PM

I'm happy with just one by Zara Jackson

It was a ball, so dancing was somewhat mandatory. Not that Zara didn't want to - she was very much here to take all of this experience in - but she had relatively little idea how to, at least for the formal stuff they were playing in the first half of the night. Felipe knew, of course, and as he got to lead (she decided it was best to let him, on this occasion) she just had to let herself be steered and try to move her feet out of the way of his. It had been only somewhat successful, but she had had fun. She hoped they threw on some more modern records later. She couldn't wait to try to get Felipe to strut his funky stuff.

They were taking a breather now though at one of the small tables around the edge of the room. People watching, she supposed, was technically an option right now. She had enjoyed watching other people's interactions a little, although she was more interested in the person beside her right now.

"You're catching on," she smiled, when Felipe mentioned that this whole thing was called 'having fun.' She had never taken his comments on that at one hundred percent face value, in spite of what she generally said about doing so. She knew he had had a life filled with tutoring and duty, but she didn't assume that he and Leonor had never been left to run through the garden or play hide and seek. All kids played. It was in their natures. "I am. Are you managing it yourself, or just observing it in others?" she teased.

13 Zara Jackson I'm happy with just one 1444 0 5

Felipe De Matteo

April 27, 2020 12:02 AM

Is that . . . am I the one? Not THE one. But like . . . the one? by Felipe De Matteo

Felipe was definitely observing other, but not others plural. He'd spent the night observing other. The playful, the lighthearted, the confident, the fierce, the brave, the beautiful. Felipe saw it all.

"I am having fun," he grinned, happy to really be able to mean it. "I feel . . ." He gestured helplessly, not sure how to put his feelings to words and not sure how to make those words be things he wanted to say out loud even if he could figure out what they were. "Alive." He decided. "And reckless," he admitted a little more shyly.

He took a moment to look away from his date (!!) and do what Zara had asked about and observe his classmates. Until now, Felipe had never really felt like one of them. He wasn't sure whether he was one of them or whether he just didn't care anymore; he didn't need all of them when he had an adventure buddy/best friend/date to spend time with. Not that he didn't feel reckless with her, too. It was a different sort of reckless. Looking back at Zara, he realized he had learned some new words for that tonight.

"Would it be okay if . . . I held your hand?" he asked, flushing despite himself. He put his hand out on the table like he'd seen Parker do when he asked Cleo. Of course, Parker had been rejected. So Felipe could only hope his experience would be different. "Or whatever you want. I don't mind anything."

His brain was positively shouting for him to take it back, to repair it, to do anything to be less forward. But something stayed him and he suspected it was the fact that he really hoped this might work out. Also, he thought that maybe Zara wouldn't hate him afterwards if she didn't want that anyway. hopefully. So he remained quiet and waited for her response and trying to remember to breathe.

22 Felipe De Matteo Is that . . . am I the one? Not THE one. But like . . . the one? 1434 0 5

Zara Jackson

April 27, 2020 3:44 AM

Like, the chosen one? by Zara Jackson

"That's good," Zara agreed, for once more warm than sarcastic. Sure, there were a lot of zombie and inferus jokes that could be made off the back of a 'feeling alive' comment, but he wasn't always the most openly feely person, and when it did make its way to the surface, it was more often than not anxiety, rather than something positive. It felt good to hear him say that about himself.

"Reckless, hey?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and wondering what 'reckless' looked like on someone who thought that buying corn could be an epic adventure. It could either be totally tame or he really was about to spin totally off the rails. That was the trouble with having had All The Boundaries - once they got dropped, you probably lacked an appropriate scale on which to judge 'just normal' vs 'mild rebellion' vs 'complete insanity.'

At first, after he said it, he was glancing out across the floor. And she wondered whether he really was going to do something totally wild in front of the whole school. But then he turned his attention back to her.

And asked to hold her hand.

Zara suppressed a slight smirk, as he word for word repeated the dialogue from the consent booth. Not that she didn't appreciate it but...

"And hand in hand we go commit these grand acts of recklessness?" she teased, sliding her fingers in between his and squeezing his hand. It was warm and surprisingly nice for something so simple. "Cos I gotta say, you're qualifying far more for 'cute' right now," she informed him, wanting to keep the banter going but not to in any way discourage his efforts.

13 Zara Jackson Like, the chosen one? 1444 0 5

Felipe De Matteo

April 27, 2020 11:23 AM

Yeah basically. by Felipe De Matteo

Zara had a very nice little hand. He wasn't really sure whether it counted for little, but she was kind of little. Pequeño sol. Also, Felipe made a mental note to somehow someday thank Parker and Cleo for their booth. Having the right words to say something or ask something in a respectful way made life much much easier. He probably sounded like a dork, but Zara didn't seem to mind that, and he'd gotten a hand to hold, so he'd take it.

He smiled, feeling very light and tightened his fingers against her hand, holding on. With his other hand, he carefully reached over and traced small circles on the back of her hand with his fingertip, glancing up at her face for any sign that anything wasn't okay with her. He was pretty sure that he didn't have to do a verbal consent check every step of the way. Right? Maybe just for big changes? Or if she looked unsure? It was odd to think that he was consenting to himself. He didn't have to verbally confirm his own interest in doing whatever because he already knew he wanted it. With that in mind, it didn't seem so dorky to check in with the other person and make sure that they also wanted a thing. That seemed like pretty basic human decency.

Zara asked about committing acts of recklessness together and Felipe, after squashing the first few things that came to mind, couldn't help smirking a bit himself. He wondered for the first time whether she used humor to deflect or control things in different situations. Far be it from him to stop her.

His smirk turned into a smile and his cheeks reddened again at being called cute. He was pretty sure that was a good thing? Not like 'aw, you tiny lil bug' cute, right? Zara wouldn't hold a bug's hand probably.

"I think that you are also cute," he said in a small, sure voice. "You have to build up to reckless things," he added, keeping his eyes determinedly on their joined hands. His biggest worry by far was that he would sound like a jerk. The last thing he wanted was to make Zara feel like a thing. If one of them would be a thing, he'd much prefer it be himself. So he kept his voice soft and curious, never letting any hint of a convincing tone change his meaning. "Light a match before you light a fire. Hold a hand before . . . well, what sort of reckless do you want to be? " He wanted to keep his eyes down longer, but he couldn't fight the urge to see what her face was doing and how she was reacting, so he looked up softly. His question had either come out way better than he'd been afraid it would, or way way worse, and he needed to see whether he'd splinched himself on the landing.

22 Felipe De Matteo Yeah basically. 1434 0 5

Ellie Alperton

April 27, 2020 6:47 PM

Something like that by Ellie Alperton

It was just a coincidence. Ellie smiled. She supposed, as he hadn’t known her dress colours, white made sense as a safe choice.

“I’m glad they’re white,” she confirmed. “My friends back home made me these,” she added, holding her wrist out and touching the friendship bracelets gently with her other hand. “I like these colours together,” she added. It felt good. It felt like explaining but step by step. It felt like not hiding. She had never planned on hiding, and didn’t want to pretend to be something she wasn’t, but it was sort of hard to know sometimes how to raise the subject in a place where everyone had only ever known her as Ellie. To be honest and transparent whilst honouring the feeling that some things were no one else’s business but her own.

“We are,” she agreed when he commented on them being the same colour, understanding his meaning even before the words and the mime, “Except you don’t have as many sparkles,” she added, fluttering her fingers in what she hoped was a helpful way on the last word.

They made their way into the hall, finding places to watch the prefect dance. It was rather strange and formal, but it was easy for her brain to write things off as ‘well, magic school.’ Even if this was nothing particularly to do with magic, it felt natural that there were different traditions here. And Jasmine got to be up there! Even though she wasn’t a prefect (which Ellie couldn’t fathom) she was dancing with one. Sometimes Sonora was slime and guts and lizard tails, and sometimes it was fairytale. She was glad of the chance for a whole evening of the latter.

However, as the prefects took to the floor, Jasmine only held her attention for a second because there were two guys dancing together. Ellie had been on the bus rather than catching the Floo and hadn’t crossed paths with them in Tumbleweed. She was far enough distant in age, house and social class that only the vaguest background murmuring of a rumour had made it to her. She’d heard a couple of people talking about the intern boy and saying he was gay. If anyone had said it in front of her, she’d just shrugged and said ‘And?’

Okay, and then back to Jasmine - having taken in the fact that Dorian and his boyfriend existed, she did spend some time admiring everything about Jasmine’s utterly perfect dress. Gary didn’t look too bad either. His robes were even kind of princy. She watched them all, her face lit with a soft smile. They seemed so happy and so confident.

“They all looked so sweet together,” she stated, turning to Freddie as the dance ended, testing the waters cautiously.

13 Ellie Alperton Something like that 1456 0 5

Ivy Brockert

April 27, 2020 6:51 PM

I am sorry to hear that. by Ivy Brockert

Ivy could understand why Nathaniel might not be a fan of gossip. There had been rumors about his family that the older Teppenpaw had politely ignored. The fact that people got hurt was exactly why she didn't like gossip. Even if gossip turned out to be true , she still felt it was wrong.

Personally, the seventh year was quite lucky. The last time the Brockerts had anything resembling a big scandal was when Aunt Pearl and Uncle Jeffrey got divorced before Ivy was even born. Then Uncle Jeffrey married her mom's sister, Aunt Jamie, which made Jeffrey still her uncle. Of course, the very short period where he wouldn't have been was before she was born.

Anyway, the Brockerts tended to well, keep the paparazzi away with bribery and threats and near impeccable behavior. And the last scandal they'd had....well nobody blamed Uncle Jeffrey. Dad was the biggest proponent of Aunt Pearl being a terrible person but the rest of Ivy's aunts and uncles concurred.

And Ryan...Aunt Pearl's son...just plain did not like to think about her. Ivy felt so bad for him. Of course, Amity had it worse. Ryan didn't have to see his mother-he had a restraining order that he kept renewing- but Aunt Jillian was still around. It made holidays a bit tense, especially when she'd say things meant to hurt Amity and Amity's husband Phillip replied to her with open hostility. Ivy was glad she had parents who were loving and kind and did not push her too hard.

Of course, she pushed herself hard instead. Ivy had done her best to be a near perfect student and impress her teachers-though apparently she had failed at the latter since she wasn't prefect. On the other hand, at least her classmates liked her so that was something. Of course, the Teppenpaw could thank her brother for that. Hopefully, he too would get the honor along with Peyton. They would make wonderful Head Students.

She was really going to miss her brother and cousin next year. Ivy was going to be at Dofmore all by herself and would probably remain as such, Peyton would likely follow Connor to Pumine or go to culinary school if she went to college and well, schools like Dofmore wouldn't be a place Vlad would fit in. The Teppenpaw was kind of scared of the lonliness she was going to feel. Her heart ached just thinking about it.

Ivy nodded. "That's true. And it's like...I want to expose the bad people but I don't want to ruin people either. But if they're doing something bad...I mean, do they deserve it?"She sighed. "Maybe I'll report on things like magical development. Like of new charms or potions or something."

11 Ivy Brockert I am sorry to hear that. 394 0 5

Freddie Zauberhexen

April 27, 2020 7:21 PM

lightsaber sounds by Freddie Zauberhexen

Sparkles! That was a fun word, even if Freddie hadn't understood what it meant. He gaped, realizing she was right. He had some shiny elements going on but nothing sparkly. He didn't reply, figuring Ellie was probably perfectly happy to be the only sparkly one, but he wondered whether Hana had any sparkles at home that he could try out sometime. That would be lots of fun.

The prefect dance was super super awesome. There were all the different colors and then all the different emotions on all the different faces and there was all the fancy music and it was so cool! Freddie thought he'd probably like to be a prefect just so that he could do the dance in front of the whole school like that. Or he could go with a prefect. It was pretty cool that they didn't just have to dance with each other and they could dance with whoever they wanted to. Freddie wasn't sure whether he was more impressed by or jealous of the two boys dancing together because they were very graceful and clearly much more accustomed to dancing than most of the other folks. They weren't as many fancy colors though, so he mostly watched the girl in the poofy pink dress and the shiny blue and orange dress and the girl with the sash that went by too fast for him to watch but who was blonde and pale and kind of looked like she was a black and white photograph.

Ellie seemed excited too, once it was all done, and he was happy that she was happy. "Yes!" he agreed, beaming. It was nice when other people were excited about stuff he was excited about. "I want--" Ah, that wasn't right. The hypothetical was hard in his second language. "Would I have big pink dress. That's cool," he said, settling for the colloquial term since it was one he knew well. He couldn't help wondering what Ellie would think of him trying on a dress. It would be fun, and it would be fine. It didn't mean he wasn't a proper boy because that was a silly concept. But it was still a concept and Freddie wouldn't have said such a thing to most of the other people he knew at Sonora. Certainly not Hana.

22 Freddie Zauberhexen *lightsaber sounds* 1452 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

April 27, 2020 7:55 PM

Ding ding ding ding! by Leonor De Matteo

What was with this girl? She seemed boring and awful, but then she seemed alright, and then she was awful in a not boring way. Was this the sort of crap that had made Felipe not want to do this anymore? What did it matter to Morgan if the De Matteos didn't run on a democracy? They were clearly the best suited family to running anything around Ciudad de Matteo and if they weren't adored for it, then the town would have changed its name by now.

She cocked an eyebrow again and her mouth pressed into a dangerously thin line of not-so-thinly-veiled disgust. "Didn't know that much then, I take it?" she asked sharply. There were Mordues and Brockerts in the world and this girl didn't think wizards had royalty? First, the De Matteos weren't royalty in any official capacity. Second, they weren't the ones to be worried about if unofficial capacities were going to be a sticking point. "My family works very closely with Muggles actually," she added, pretty sure that just stamping off would be viewed as admitting defeat. "We're in a very rural part of Mexico and my family was chosen a few generations ago to be the ones who helped keep things operational. That's kept up since then and my family does a lot of service for the community. If they want to think that makes me a princess, then they can deal with that. It's none of my business then."

She stood up, not wanting to continue this conversation. Normally she'd say something about 'nice to meet you' but she wasn't sure that was true. "Enjoy your night," she said before turning and walking away. She hoped Morgan didn't enjoy her night at all.

22 Leonor De Matteo Ding ding ding ding! 1471 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

April 27, 2020 8:06 PM

I couldn't agree more. by Leonor De Matteo

What was with the people at this school? On the whole, Leonor tried pretty hard to be decent to people, at least until they proved themselves as utterly boring or dull as Bella and Morgan had turned out to be. And they threw it all right back in her face, picking apart her inheritance. What did it matter to them? Felipe had asked her some questions about her thoughts on literacy and such after a conversation he'd said he had with Jessica once, and he hadn't said that she'd acted this way but Leonor was starting to wonder just how much her brother was able to deal with. It explained a lot if that's what he'd done, but Leonor wasn't going to deal with anything. She didn't care a lick about what anyone thought of the De Matteo legacy and she had no plans to include them on her discussions about its future.

After leaving Morgan behind, Leonor had decided that the food table would at least give her something to occupy herself with. She knew she'd probably have to talk to more people because that's what people did at such occasions as these, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She thought that perhaps she should just go find Mara, someone that she knew was at least tolerable, and usually even likeable, but she wasn't quite ready to give up on her networking adventures just yet. Ugh.

She got to the food table at the same time as a Brockert, and she wondered what Morgan would think of this one. She looked like a proper princess if there ever was one. Maybe that was for the best. Grabbing a small handful of grapes and some crackers, Leonor turned back towards the dancefloor and pointed with her chin; if she wasn't a princess then she didn't need to worry about being so proper. She wasn't about to marry Topaz Brockert anyway, so it didn't matter. "Do you hate this whole thing, too? Tell me I'm not the only one who would rather have something more interesting to be doing."

22 Leonor De Matteo I couldn't agree more. 1471 0 5

Peyton O'Malley

April 27, 2020 9:25 PM

A night to remember by Peyton O'Malley

Peyton met Connor in the Crotalus common room. As they were in the same house, they could walk down together. Which made the sixth year feel...better. Safer. More secure. The older Crotalus was warmth and safety and comfort and she was glad to have him as her boyfriend now.

And she was really sad that he was graduating. And that Ivy was. On the other hand she was sort of glad to see the back of Eden. Of course, the seventh year would still be a...presence in Peyton's life. Unfortunately. She had always felt she was in competition with the Teppenpaw. Like Sally, Jake and Arnold were comparing the two of them and Eden always came up favorably. Worse, Peyton feared that it was also Ryan versus Asher and that they would think Asher was better than Ryan . Which was impossible because the Crotalus alum was the absolute best brother in the world. He was one of Peyton's favorite people. As for Desiree vs Carrie....yeah, okay, Desiree could have it. She'd have to do something pretty awful to not come off the better one. Like kill people or something.

Of course, Connor was starting to become Peyton's other favorite person. Her boyfriend, prior to being her boyfriend, had been the most amazing friend. She remembered how last year when she was stressed about being on a Challenge team with Eden and Evelyn and having to things with a physical component and he'd listened to her stress out and cry and comforted her. Or when they'd done the concert and his cousin Arianna had been difficult and scary, Connor had been a buffer.

On the plus side, her nephews Stanley and Wally, would be here next year and Peyton was totally looking forward to that, but she was going to miss Connor-and Ivy-so much.

"Okay, before we go down, I have a few things for you." Connor stated. "First off, is your corsage, of course. "He handed her a corsage of white flowers and she placed it on her wrist. "Then there's this." He handed her a jewelry box and she opened it to find a locket inside. Peyton was about to thank him when he said "And one more thing." He pulled out a sweatshirt with the name of his school, Pumine, emblazoned on it. "This is to um, have something of mine to um, comfort you when I'm not there, like having a little piece of me." Connor knew that his girlfriend could get stressed and insecure and relied on him to make her feel better.

Peyton teared up and gave her boyfriend a gigantic Teppenpaw level hug. "Connor, thank you so much. That's so sweet." She clutched the sweatshirt to her chest. It was warm and soft and had that unique Connor smell. "I'm going to put this upstairs in my room so I don't have to carry it around all night." She ran up to her room quick and put the sweatshirt on her bed. Then she came back down, carrying her locket. "Can you help me with the clasp?" Connor obliged and took her arm as they made their way down to the Cascade Hall.

They all lined up for the opening dance and Peyton was extremely glad to have the seventh year with her. She could dance fine, but she was a bit uncomfortable being in front of everyone. Honestly, it was a terrible tradition and she was not only relieved to have Connor but that Nathaniel Mordue had paired off with Ivy. Professor Skies announced them and they took the floor.

11 Peyton O'Malley A night to remember 1403 0 5

Selina Skies

April 28, 2020 3:10 AM

House Cup Winners by Selina Skies

Selina had waited. Most people seemed to be relatively happily occupied, or if they were not she doubted it was because they were busy tapping their watches and waiting for her announcement. But there was a degree of time-sensitivity to the thing. After all, the reward for the house cup winners were tokens, which they could feed into the magical jukebox at the back of the room, selecting the music for the rest of the night. It had a vast selection of genres and artists, both magical and muggle, classic and modern, so there would be something for everyone’s taste. However, the average length of a song, multiplied by the number of people in the winning house, added up, so they would need a fair chunk of time to execute this reward. Which meant that waiting was not really very practical. Deciding she had put it off as long as possible, she took to the stage.

“Good evening. I hope you are all having an enjoyable time,” she smiled, “We are ready to announce the house cup winners. After the winners are announced, the cup will make its way round to each member of the winning house who can take a token, allowing them to make a song selection,” she explained.

“The competition has been close-run this year, reflecting the hard work that you have all put into your classes. We are proud of all of your endeavours throughout this year. In fourth place, with ninety-two points is Pecari,” she offered a small polite round of applause, “In third, with ninety-seven is Crotalus,” she applauded and let the anticipation build, but only for a moment. She specifically did not want people focussing on the heads of the houses right now. Only three of whom were present. The previous year Pecari and Teppenpaw had tied for first place, but that was the only interruption in several years to Nathan’s house winning. People might start looking for him. And he wasn’t here. “In second place, with a clean one hundred points is… Aladren. Which means that, with one hundred and seven points, Teppenpaw are, once again, our house cup winners. Congratulations!”

With a sweep of her wand, the cup flew off the stage, heading to the nearest Teppenpaw so that they could take their token, and then continuing to make its way around the room. Originally, it had just been the tokens that were charmed to fly out, but a quick bit of charm work had fixed that, and she hoped it neatly covered things, seeing as the Head of House was not there to collect it. And nor could she have delegated the responsibility to the seventh year prefect, seeing as it was her crisis he was dealing with.

13 Selina Skies House Cup Winners 26 0 5

Dorian Montoir

April 28, 2020 3:38 AM

Good evening? (tag Ruby) by Dorian Montoir

Dorian was having an evening which was the closest thing to perfect he could imagine. People might have been forgiven for thinking that he was lost entirely in his own little bubble - or at least, that its gravity drew him back in fairly rapidly whenever he left - but he was happy with more than one of the people around him. Whilst he was predominantly intertwined with Jean-Loup, he was also spending time with his friends. It made him happy that they all got on so easily. And if they seemed slightly less happy than he was, he assumed that to be entirely natural because... well, who was? They couldn’t be as excited about his boyfriend being here as he was, but they were still excited for him. He had dutifully given Tatiana a spin or two around the dancefloor, appreciating the extent to which Jean-Loup’s presence was possible and comfortable because of the people around him. He wanted to celebrate them too. He wanted to pull them all together, and just squish them all into a big fuzzy hug and make sure they knew how they were a part of his happiness, and how much being able to gather them all and have them like each other and mesh together meant to him.

Of course, he wasn’t totally oblivious. He was pretty sure he was getting some filthy looks. But mostly from people who’d never bothered to speak to him in the first place. If they went out of their way to be nasty, he was sure they would be stopped. If they decided not to speak to him or acknowledge him well… it didn’t strike him as a big loss, seeing as he’d never interacted much with any of them anyway.

He was making his way out of the bathroom when someone exited from the girls’ one nearby at the same time, in a way where it was impossible not to acknowledge each other’s presence in the space of the entrance hall. It was Ruby.

Dorian swallowed. Ruby was one on a very small list of people; those he had never had an actual conversation with about this, but whose opinion he did actually care about. If Ruby decided he no longer existed, that would be noticeable and painful.

“Good evening,” he acknowledged her. “You look very pretty,” he added, because it was true, and because a gentleman complimented a lady when greeting her. He liked to think he still qualified, though he had to wonder whether he was going to be deemed not to have any kind of worthy opinion on the subject both because he was dating a boy and… well, because he was dating a boy. In spite of that, he could still appreciate the prettiness of a gown and the girl inside it, and all the things she had done with her hair - the way one could admire a painting. In spite of that, he still wanted to be well-regarded, and cared what she thought about him.

OOC - Dorian's friends' behaviour checked with them/heavily coloured by Dorian being obliviously happy.

13 Dorian Montoir Good evening? (tag Ruby) 1401 0 5

Sylvia Mordue

April 28, 2020 5:07 AM

We'll just have to make the best of it by Sylvia Mordue

Sylvia glided into the room, a vision of total and utter perfection. Her dress was the best. Her hair was the best. She was the best. And, all in all, this evening hadn’t worked out as dreadfully as she had thought it might.

Admittedly, she was alone for now. But that was a situation she regarded as utterly temporary. She had put the idea out amongst the Gardenia Girls that they should, insofar as it was possible, treat this evening like a ball at home. People didn’t go on arranged dates to those - the point was to circulate and to mingle. Whilst the prefects amongst them needed to line up partners for the first dance, there was no reason to spend the whole evening thus paired off. Unless of course, anyone was absolutely sweet on anyone else.

The slight fly in the ointment had been Katerina, who had had already agreed to something resembling a date by the time Sylvia moved these remarks up from the subtext level to the textual level where Katerina was capable of grasping things. However, that scarcely mattered. It wasn’t as if Martin, a third year with all the personality of a stick of chalk, was amongst Sylvia’s prospective dance partners. Better for Katerina to remove herself from the market all together. Just so long as she didn’t set off a chain reaction.

This had also resolved her of a potential dilemma. Nate had seemed interested in going with Katerina, or perhaps Allegra. He himself had acknowledged that one did not always get one’s way in such matters but she rather liked Nate to, so long as what he wanted was good for him (and it usually was, as Nate was sensible like that). However, Katerina wasn’t much of a status symbol, and did not fit into the category of doing a favour/conveying mutual benefit, which this was a prime chance for.

Caitlin did, though Nate thought she wasn’t as pretty and the Pierces often ended up embroiled in various scandals. A part of Sylvia also sort of wanted to hang her out to dry because if it was so hard to find a partner for the opening dance, well… Caitlin just shouldn’t have gone and got prefect for herself, should she?

Luckily, there were two damsels in distress. Even before The Incident. Ivy’s brother’s (presumably ex now, given the circumstances) best friend could have danced with her, but they had all been presuming he would go with Tatiana. Tatiana would not have been required to do the dance, so it might have been gracious to step aside, but it was a little odd to loan someone your practically-betrothed-level boyfriend. Except- well. That had proven inaccurate. Sylvia had not been relying on that person, luckily. And that was what had pushed her towards the idea of treating it like a ball at home - however she paired people up, the numbers just didn’t stack up. Nate had liked the idea too. That was the one part of this that had worked out well, in that he seemed to be getting the best of both worlds. He was doing a favour for Ivy, and had, in the process, regained credibility, but without commitment. She rather suspected that Nate regarded that as a greater gain than having a real date. Also, with it being merely a convenience arrangement, it freed Nate, and she supposed Ivy, to socialise with her later.

Caitlin had found a date too, in Beau. This was less welcome, as he had been one of Sylvia’s options, although she had to admit that he was scraping the barrel a bit. And again, if this was a convenience arrangement, and if they treated this like a ball at home, there was no reason why she shouldn’t get a turn with him once the prefect dance was done. Caitlin was in a fairly hideous mint-green colour which made her look far too much like an ice cream sundae and didn’t compliment her colouring at all. When she had first heard about it, Sylvia had told her it sounded lovely, and offered to lend her some of her silver and diamond jewellery, as something uncoloured would go best with the gown. Of course, Caitlin had jewellery, but - Sylvia had pointed out - it might be fun to mix and match for the ball. And friends shared.

Sylvia’s own gown was also a custom piece, by someone who didn’t run a semi-scandalous sounding boarding house. It had a gold lace top with three-quarter-length sleeves and a wide neckline, though stopped short of sitting just off the shoulder as that might have looked vulgar. This gave way to a flowing burgundy skirt. Gold for a queen, red for Crotalus. Her hair was in an elaborate up do, with just a few pieces left loose to frame her face. She felt regal. She looked regal.

When the prefect dance ended, she was pleased to see Caitlin send Beau towards the refreshment table. That left Caitlin unattached, and meant that Sylvia was not interrupting if she went over to congratulate her. So long as people kept moving, she could slide in and out of conversations without ever appearing that she was butting in, and without having to waste time looking like she was lonely. It was called ‘working a room,’ and it was a lesson she thought a few of the others must have missed as they skulked solo on the sidelines.

“You were a picture of elegance and grace,” she complimented Caitlin. It was true. Caitlin might not have been Sylvia, but she was perfectly capable of executing a decent waltz. “Thank goodness people like us are here to bring some dignity to the proceedings,” she added, directing a slight eye roll towards Cleo and Parker. That Mudbloods had all the co-ordination of someone under a twitching jinx, and all the dress sense of someone reaching blind into a sack of old cast-offs came as no surprise. It was familiar, safe ground on which to raise complaints about the standards of things. Certain other things were so distasteful as to be virtually unmentionable. Though if Sylvia found a way to pointedly Not Mention It, she most definitely would.

13 Sylvia Mordue We'll just have to make the best of it 1413 0 5

Theo Spurn

April 28, 2020 6:14 AM

I have ideas and soft things!!! by Theo Spurn

Hand! Hand was not the texture that Theo had been going for, and he was kind of surprised. But Lyssa’s hand was not rough, so it was okay.

“Oh yeah,” he stated vaguely, when she tapped her badge, thus drawing his eyes momentarily. “I don’t touch Mab,” he added. He had offered several times to hug her because he thought she looked like she needed a hug. Everyone needed hugs, but she looked extra like it. She always did not want a hug, to a degree that was quite stiff-shouldered and emphatic for all that she usually answered without words. He had been wondering what to do about that. He had considered giving her a surprise hug because maybe if she just got one she would feel better. But he normally remembered the badge rule.

Now he had surprises! He could give her one of those and perhaps that would help.

“Thanks!” he added brightly to Lyssa. He rummaged in his small bag, pulling out a pipe cleaner flower. His last care package had included soft things for crafting, and he had made as many of them into flowers as possible because at balls people tied flowers to their wrists for unknown reasons. Flowers could be slimy. Soft things were better. He had no idea whether he had enough for everyone but he had tried. Also they were perfect for everyone because there were two types of people - people’s whose outfits were soft (thus they clearly appreciated soft things) and people whose outfits were not soft (and thus they needed more softening). “Here I-” he reached to wrap it around Lyssa’s wrist because that was what people did but that involved going near the jacket’s sleeve again and going near the jacket’s sleeve again reminded him of having his hand grabbed and being reminded of having his hand grabbed reminded him about the button. “May I touch your jacket? And…. may I have touched it before?” he checked.

13 Theo Spurn I have ideas and soft things!!! 1476 0 5

Ness McLeod

April 28, 2020 6:46 AM

Excellent by Ness McLeod

“Not me,” stated Ness when Lyssa asked who said suits were just for men. “Repeatedly and emphatically.” It might have been a rhetorical question but whilst Ness enjoyed knowing what those were and being able to deploy them, there was often some dry humour to be got from answering other people’s. “You did that?” the Aladren added approvingly, when Lyssa mentioned changing the fabric of the suit. “Nice.” Sure, it was an inanimate piece of transfiguration but a pretty big one. “It can be tricky working across such a large area, getting consistency,” Ness added, because compliments backed up by facts were infinitely superior compliments.

“Thanks,” Ness added, hands clutching slightly against bare arms as Lyssa stated Ness’ outfit allowed for more coolness. Ness supposed that wasn’t technically a compliment, just an observation but it had sounded approving. And Ness’ hands had jumped up more from self-consciousness than literal physical coolness, though the gesture might have been misinterpreted. Remembering the high charisma roll the dress had scored enabled Ness to drop back into a more relaxed posture. This outfit felt good. And Ness felt strong and… and the sense of ‘cool’ that Lyssa hadn’t been going for (or had been because yay wordplay?) just sometimes when reminded that someone was directly looking, it was easy to feel a bit exposed.

“I could put a cooling charm in that, if you want,” Ness offered, when Lyssa shrugged off the jacket. “I use them a lot for sports gear,” Ness added, to both demonstrate competence and to excuse why Lyssa might not be so well versed with the charm even though they were in the same grade.

And then Lyssa described Ness as a valkyrie ready to devour souls and Ness definitely did not feel the slightest bit cold but very very warm though hopefully not blushing too much and was this flirting? Ness was pretty sure that being called a devourer of souls was the best thing anyone had ever said. If that was flirting, it was working for Ness.

“I take the souls of bitter, entitled chauvinists and grind them into coffee,” Ness confirmed, nodding seriously as Lyssa wondered whether the valkyrie angle counted the same as the harbinger one. This had to be flirting, right? How else would you attract another human to you? Ness had tried talking magical theory with Gary, and that had wound up with him here with someone with a princess complex. And Ness was aware that proper feminism was about choice and not knocking down what one woman did to build up another. But really? Did it have to include Jasmine? She was just so… pink. Even when she was wearing blue.
Lyssa also seemed interested in Ness’ offer of help. Which was awesome, because demonstrable competence was also sexy. So… here they were… just two people who were very freaking capable and who wanted to chew up and spit out the souls of entitled dudes.

“Semi,” Ness confirmed, with a playful smile when Lyssa asked if Valkyries were real. “You might want to brush up your Finnish and your Quidditch skills if you plan on joining them though. And I think they might all be disappointingly human. Though they’ve got a pretty cool track record on supporting women’s rights issues.”

13 Ness McLeod Excellent 1419 Ness McLeod 0 5

Zara Jackson

April 28, 2020 7:51 AM

You have to stand alone against the vampires, demons and forces of darkness? Dang by Zara Jackson

He brought his other hand up, tracing circles on the back of her hand, and Zara’s first instinct was to bring her own other hand up and to press it on his and to start playing that silly game where both of them tried to get their hand on top until it descended into just flailing and slapping the air in front of each other. But she refrained. She wondered if Felipe even knew that game. And the circles felt nice.

And aww. She had made him blush. That drove all thoughts of being silly out of her mind because having done it once, she really wanted to do it again. Zara wondered if it was unTeppenpaw or whatever of her that she kind of liked pushing Felipe’s buttons. However, she didn’t see it as particularly unfriendly - she came from a house that was full of love and laughter, but specifically where the latter was used as a means of expressing the former. Chaos was relaxed. It was what happened when you weren’t putting on your stiff, suitable for work/school self any more.

She also just honestly got a kick out of knowing she had that effect on another human being.

He managed to squeak out that she was cute too, and say that he wanted to build up to the reckless things. She considered this. He was clearly toeing the edge of his comfort zone but kept pushing it further. One school of thought said that meant they should go at his pace. Another said that that made Zara the Mistress of Misadventure, and it was her job to keep leading him further and further outside of his little bubble. She knew which one she leant towards. She would never have said she had initiated or incited Felipe’s rebellion but now that he had thrown off the shackles she was more than happy to help him have a good time. And then he turned control back over to her with his question, which was lucky, because she also liked having the driving seat.

“Before you… cross lines that ‘only friends’ don’t cross?” she suggested, scootching her chair a little closer. “But you came here as my date,” she reminded him, leaning in so that they were touching nose to nose. “How’s this for build up?” she teased, rubbing noses softly.

13 Zara Jackson You have to stand alone against the vampires, demons and forces of darkness? Dang 1444 0 5

Felipe De Matteo

April 28, 2020 11:30 AM

Well against the feelings, emotions, and forces of hormones at least. by Felipe De Matteo

If there had ever been any doubt in Felipe's mind that girls were literally the best form of life on the face of the planet, the way that Zara's breath tickled his face brushed it away. There was a funny feeling in the lower part of his stomach that made him sort of want to make small circles on her arms and shoulders and whatever else he could reach. He felt a little cross-eyed looking at her, but she was still so pretty. Why on earth would she come to the Ball with him? His date? Really, he'd gone as hers. And she knew it. She was so confident and warm and she smelled so nice and why was it so hard for him to just sit still for a second?

"Es perfecto para mi," he replied in a low murmur, looking from one of her eyes to the other. His skin felt warm and rushing, like all the blood in his whole body wanted the honor of being this close to her and had rushed to his head. It was odd, because that was not a thing anyone else had ever made him feel like. Of course, he'd never been this close to someone's face before, and certainly no one as resoundingly gorgeous as the girl who'd brought him as her date.

Was touching his face consent to touch her face? He was pretty sure that between what she was saying and what she was doing, there was no misunderstanding happening here, and she seemed to be working on a 'do a thing and then pause' form of communication. Whether it was to make his heart burst out of his chest on purpose or whether that was just a powerful side effect of asking for implied consent, Felipe didn't mind either way. To be fair, he probably wouldn't mind anything that she wanted to do.

He moved forward almost instinctively to the front of his seat, tipping his head down so his forehead rested against hers, and moved his hands to her back. She was really very little and his arms had gotten much longer over the past year or so. With her arms between the two of them and his around them both, he thought maybe that warm feeling in his skin was just the result of holding a whirling beam of sunshine, or embracing a supernova except not the exploding-kill-everyone kind. Just the Zara kind.

"Is this okay?" he asked, in barely a whisper. He paused just one more moment to search her face for any sign that she didn't want him to get any closer before closing his eyes. He leaned forward and pulled her towards him as much as was possible whilst remaining seated. Their lips met and Felipe had the pleasure of finding out firsthand that Zara's lips were even softer than her hands.

22 Felipe De Matteo Well against the feelings, emotions, and forces of hormones at least. 1434 Felipe De Matteo 0 5

Lyssa Fitzgerald

April 28, 2020 1:37 PM

Whatever end you want by Lyssa Fitzgerald

Lyssa had realized around year two that many in the Wizarding world were from a less up front culture. The culture seemed to be one in which there were unwritten and unspoken rules of how one must perform to be considered right or at least someone deemed worthy. With her letter writing and now with helping Cleo, Lyssa hoped that she could push the envelope a bit, push the Wizarding culture to speak its mind a bit more clearly. Or at least admit a few things that it would never say out loud otherwise.

Lyssa knew that Jessica was not from the Wizarding world originally, and remembered her to be a bit more, fearsome, on that front from their earlier years. Thus, as Lyssa began to talk with Jessica, she felt this girl sitting in front of her might want to push the envelope a little bit too. Jessica though seemed to understand the rules of the Purebloods. Hoity toity being the same on both sides of the wall Lyssa guessed. Then, somewhere in the back of her mind, Lyssa began to put some pieces together. About a Senator Groves and the Hayles family. Like that it all began to click. Jessica was actually royalty, thus why she looked it. Or as close to it as you could get in Muggle America. On this side of the wall Jessica’s family might not hold sway, but on the other side, the one where the rest of Lyssa’s family lived, they did. Quite a bit actually, if newspapers and the television were to be believed. Just as this began to click into place, Lyssa could see a wave of interest cross Jessica’s face. Lyssa was feeling her way through this. All she knew was that if she could get a few people to join, others would follow.

“Declaiming, right. Thank you,” Lyssa said with a smile. This was not a word that was used a lot. Though Lyssa supposed most speeches would be declaimed.

What exactly are you thinking? that was the key question. Lyssa wasn’t sure if Speech and Debate was something that happened on this side of the wall. As a wall jumper (a term she just made up and rather enjoyed more than Muggle or NoMaj), she knew she wanted to test herself against whatever existed on this side of the wall. She took a deep breath.

“To be honest, I want to improve my ability at using words. I feel speech and debate will help with that. As iron sharpens iron, so man sharpens woman,” she said, parroting her father’s favorite quote. “Since I am probably going to be dealing with their world and our world, I figure I should educate myself in a way that helps me in both and gives me tools in both. Tools that might help me chisel a bit of the ossification away and build something new. Or just add a part for me or you. Poetry,” Lyssa continued, focusing on Jessica’s topic “is the subtlest of ways one can work the tool of words. Words are powerful. Poetry gets to the heart of it. In our world poetry is used in music and advertisements. Even political speeches use a type of poetry. In this world, words help make magic. In our world, they help build and destroy just the same, just in different ways. Seems only right that we can make sure we build our tools if we’ll have to use them on both sides of the wall.”

41 Lyssa Fitzgerald Whatever end you want 1421 0 5

Lyssa Fitzgerald

April 28, 2020 2:12 PM

I do enjoy ideas... and soft things. Thank you. by Lyssa Fitzgerald

Mab Lyssa thought she knew who Mab was. A first year, but couldn’t fully place the name to a face. Lyssa mainly knew the first years in Teppenpaw. Alex, Alex and not Alex. She was sure she’d heard the name before. Much like Theo here. She let go of his hand. She hadn’t asked him for consent, but it was to illustrate a point… right?

Theo was someone her brother had talked about a bit. Yes, Mab had to be a Pecari. Ok. So Theo knew, more or less about not touching, cause Mab would get upset. That was important. He wasn’t starting from scratch. Though Lyssa wondered if he perhaps was more tactile in all his interactions. He seemed more than just being a regular energized boy. Then again, it could just be that Lyssa had always had older brothers and hadn’t paid much attention to younger boys until now. The momentary pause made her begin to wonder why she hadn’t. She also didn’t pay as much attention to the older boys as some of her classmates seemed to. Though, with the exception of Gary and Parker, they all seemed a bit stiff. Add to that one was her brother and the other was currently dancing with Jasmine Delachene, which seemed a bit surprising, but good for him. He deserved someone who made him smile, he had made so many people smile with his games, and brought some of the Muggle world into this one.

And then Theo made her heart melt. He pulled out a pipe cleaner flower. It looked like he had spent time making them and he had an entire bag of them. He went to put it on her wrist and then stopped and asked her if he could touch her jacket.

“Of course you can Theo. Thank you for asking, and thank you for the beautiful flower,” Lyssa said.

Even if she didn’t have a date, she was now still rocking a flower on her wrist. On the plus side, this one wouldn’t wilt and die. She also liked how it felt soft against her skin.

Yes, she thought, Theo is someone she could add into the category of her older brother and Gary.

41 Lyssa Fitzgerald I do enjoy ideas... and soft things. Thank you. 1421 0 5

Cleo James

April 28, 2020 6:28 PM

Or a headache by Cleo James

He was being… nice. To his date, and to Cleo.

“Thanks,” she said, sounding clearly surprised when he offered to get them drinks later if they needed it, trying to rule out the part of her brain that said he was going to put something in them. Maybe he was just… not horrible.

Luckily he left after that. Cleo sort of wanted to groan and smack her head against the table. The whole interaction had felt awkward and had her skin prickling all over even though there seemed like there was no real reason for that. Whilst she was pretty sure Felipe wasn’t watching any more, she was pretty sure other people were, so she refrained from banging her head against anything but did let out a frustrated ‘uggh’ under her breath.

“I suck at this,” she sighed, leaning her head on Parker’s shoulder without really thinking about it. After all, he was fine with this stuff. She was the great big mess that kept throwing roadblocks in his way. “I have no idea how to react to people even when they’re being… fine.” She lifted her head, regarding him anxiously. “And… are you… did I embarrass you?” she checked, still feeling guilty even though all the pamphlets said she wasn’t supposed to.

OOC - permission gained from Parker to skip his turn

13 Cleo James Or a headache 389 0 5

Sadie-Lake Chalmers

April 28, 2020 6:42 PM

Or be wallflowers but not lonely ones by Sadie-Lake Chalmers

“It’s my first,” Sadie replied when Bella stated her year. She suspected Bella already knew that. She wouldn’t have seen Sadie around before, and would have seen her being paraded into the hall at the start of the year to be sorted, though of course, seeing wasn’t the same as noticing.

“I think I like it?” she ventured cautiously, both because she still felt sometimes like she got surprised here or needed to make her mind up a bit more, but also because she wasn’t sure if that was the correct/cool answer. Bella seemed to be really looking at her now and Sadie was questioning the wisdom in approaching someone so much older. Though Sonora seemed to mind that sort of thing less than her old school. She’d even seen someone older than Bella hanging out in Tumbleweed with someone in second year. Though for all she knew, they were related. But then there was Jessica and Mara too - that was a better example, even if the age gap wasn’t so big.

“Most people are pretty nice,” she expanded on her answer, aware it hadn’t been very informative. “And… well, there’s magic,” she stated, aware that probably sounded kind of stupid because it was so obvious. “That’s new, but like… it’s cool,” she ventured tentatively. Honestly, it ranged from slightly baffling to jaw-droppingly amazing, pretty much on the daily, but she wasn’t sure that gushing over everything being amazing was going to look good on her. “How about you?” she checked, wanting to be sure she was getting this broadly right.

13 Sadie-Lake Chalmers Or be wallflowers but not lonely ones 1480 0 5

Jeremy Mordue

April 28, 2020 7:12 PM

I think I get it (tag Nathaniel) by Jeremy Mordue

The evening was going… fine. On the plus side, he’d got a girl to hang out with him, so no one was going to think he was like Montoir. On the downside… he’d got a girl to hang out with him. Girls were pretty and Jeremy definitely liked looking at them but barely any of them wanted to talk about sports, so honestly, it was confusing what you were meant to actually do once you’d got hold of one.

He’d resorted to dancing to fill the silence and that had been… surprisingly good. He had never really got the point of dancing, which was just going round in circles but really slowly. And the actual dancing part had still been boring, but it involved touching. Normally, you didn’t really get to put your hands on girls, but you did when you danced with them and it felt really nice.

Girls generally preferred to dance with guys who weren’t jerks. He knew that. Suddenly the whole of his world, all the small talk and the seemingly pointless politeness, was making sense. If you told girls you liked their shoes or whatever even when you really didn’t give a toss, then they’d think you were nice, then they’d agree to dance with you, and that involved touching. He had not touched any area of Sophia Priory that was not dance position, but he was seeing how that might become an option, if you did a lot of dancing… Although he wasn’t really sure how you got there. Or what you did when you ran out of parts of their outfit to say nice things about.

He’d excused himself from his date to go use the bathroom, and was just finishing up and washing his hands when the door opened. And, freaking seriously, it was Nathaniel? Did he genuinely need to piss, Jeremy, wondered, or was he checking in on him? Perhaps Nathaniel didn’t trust that Jeremy was behaving. Perhaps Nathaniel had calculated the exact perfect time limit on a respectable bathroom break and Jeremy had gone over by ten seconds. Either way, once again, here they were.

Jeremy bit back any snippy remarks as a thought occurred to him. Nathaniel was a pain, and Nathaniel lectured the crap out of him but he was still a lower risk person than most people for saying stuff to, or admitting things he didn’t know about. Maybe girls was one of those subjects dad was supposed to have told him about and obviously hadn’t. Did that mean Nathaniel was supposed to help, or that he was just as clueless? Well, win-win either way. Either Nathaniel would know and could tell him, or he wouldn’t and Jeremy could prove that he didn’t freaking know everything.

“How’s your date going?” Jeremy asked. It still sounded kind of moody and like a challenge as he said it, even though he kinda really wanted to know.

13 Jeremy Mordue I think I get it (tag Nathaniel) 1443 0 5

Tarquin Fox-Reynolds

April 28, 2020 7:26 PM

Librarians Don't Dance by Tarquin Fox-Reynolds

Tarquin stood to the side with Danny, leaving the young people to their fun. By that, he included most of his colleagues as well as his students. It didn’t necessarily matter that there was a substantial age gap. He’d been friends with Sophie, after all. He was friends with Mary. But well, she was here with her wife, he was here with his husband, and several of the other professors were… either single or all dating each other, but either way had seemed to cluster together.

Anyway, student-watching was sort of fun, especially tonight. There was more than one admirable act of bravery going on, although one of them spoke more personally to him. He wondered if it was causing any of the students to reconsider the man standing next to him. Staff had always been allowed to bring spouses to the event, and Danny had always attended, whenever Tarquin had been lirarianing. He wondered whether students had previously dismissed Danny as his ‘friend’ and were now re-evaluating that. Still, to the ones who thought it mattered, he suspected a school librarian did not have far to fall in terms of their idea of social status.

They passed a fair bit of the evening chatting with Selina, though when she broke off to do the house cup winners, that left them to each other again. They watched the jukebox tokens fly out, and he could feel Danny’s excitement notching up a gear as the evening promised a shift away from classical.

“Stop looking like you want to interfere in their selections,” he whispered, as Danny eyed the jukebox.

“I just think Dorian should be aware of his rich heritage of show tunes and anthems. What if no one’s taught him? He probably has no idea how to even Vogue. There are essentials we must pass on to the next generation,” Danny argued. “We could at the very least lead by example if they put something appropriate on?” he suggested.

“I don’t dance,” Tarquin reminded him, fairly sure that should not be necessary at this point. He was surprised however, when a voice from his other side chimed in with a response to that.

13 Tarquin Fox-Reynolds Librarians Don't Dance 1464 0 5

Ellie Alperton

April 28, 2020 7:34 PM

Watch out for UFOs by Ellie Alperton

Would that he had a big pink dress. Of all the reactions she had expected from Freddie, Ellie had definitely not considered that one. There were three possibilities… One, something was getting lost in translation there, like… he meant he wanted it but not for him. Two, Jasmine had told him or he just somehow Knew and he was… sub-option a) taking the mick (but it didn’t seem likely) or b) trying to somehow make her open up or feel comfortable but doing a really clunky job of it. Or three… he actually wanted a dress. And then there were so many possibilities as to what that meant if he did.

This all flashed through her mind more or less simultaneously. It wasn’t what she had expected at all, but it wasn’t overtly hostile (so long as she ruled out two a, and she was pretty sure she could - but maybe he just meant the whole thing as a joke and it was a mix between that and the humour being lost in translation, or there was an underlying hostility in him thinking that that, in itself, was humorous, because men in dresses, hahaha).

“Yeah?” she questioned. The thing was, she knew the right reactions. The right things to say. But normally within a little bubble where she knew other people really meant it, and where there wasn’t so much of a language barrier. “I’d support that,” she smiled, deciding that she could only do what she thought of as the right thing, and work on any misunderstanding from there. “I think people should wear what makes them feel good.”

13 Ellie Alperton Watch out for UFOs 1456 0 5

Freddie Zauberhexen

April 28, 2020 7:49 PM

Das UFO! I know that one. by Freddie Zauberhexen

Freddie nodded with a big grin on his face, excited that Ellie seemed not to mind this idea. It had been a calculated risk to say it at all, but he thought that this was the sort of setting where talking about pretty dresses and sparkly things made sense and people wouldn't react right away just because he'd brought it up. Plus, he was, he knew, fairly stereotypical in terms of being a boy. He was often dirty, he climbed, he had bad handwriting, he was messy, etc. He liked being a boy though. Plus, Hana did most of those things, too, and she still got to wear pretty things. When Hana wore pants, no one told her she was wearing boy clothes, but if he wore a dress, everyone lost their minds.

"Ja," he agreed. Then he remembered that he had an expert right there beside him. "Dresses are . . . " Shoot. Comfortable. Comfortable. He tried to focus because when he focused, like when he wrote his papers, his English wasn't so bad. It just took so much effort. Still, it would be easier for him and Ellie both if he was making sense. "They feel nice wearing? Do dresses make you feel good? There is not too much . . . uh . . . woooooooosh?" He waved his hands as if to blow a draft between his legs and up his imaginary skirt, then shivered. "Cold wind feels not nice."

He wondered idly whether he would be pretty in a dress, and decided he didn't really care too much either way. He wanted to wear a dress because they looked comfortable and because the dress was pretty, not because he'd be pretty in it. Plus, he looked rockin' in his bowtie and waistcoat, and that was good enough for him. Maybe he could start with something smaller, like a skirt. He could even hide it under his robes one day for classes and no one would be able to tell, and then he could decide if he wanted to wear one more often.

22 Freddie Zauberhexen Das UFO! I know that one. 1452 0 5

Topaz Brockert

April 28, 2020 8:01 PM

Hmm...I guess that's a good start by Topaz Brockert

Topaz raised her eyebrows when the firstie addressed her. The girl had some gall to speak to just...speak to an older student that she wasn't related to. Not that Topaz herself wouldn't if there was one she wanted to talk to, but then the Aladren was someone important. She was not sure whether or not this girl was, but even if she was, she wasn't as important as Topaz.

But then, nobody was especially meaning her brother Jasper, contrary to popular belief. Because in addition to being a Brockert-something there were admittedly alot of-the fourth year was brilliant. She was even smarter than other smart people like Emerald, Isla, Olaf and Uncle Ben. Possibly only Grandfather could be equal. And being smart was about as important as being a Brockert, in that it set Topaz apart from other Brockerts. There were non-Brockerts who were smart, of course, and Brockerts who weren't smart, like Sapphire and Uncle Eustace, so being both made the Aladren superior to all. Also, her grandfather was the Headmaster here at Sonora

Anyway, Topaz had not seen this girl around Aladren so that automatically made the fourth year assume she was not one of the smartest people here, but if she was a Teppenpaw or Crotalus, it was possibly she wasn't a total idiot, though the former would make her a sap like Ruby and Owen.

However, what this girl said...well, Topaz actually agreed with her. "You are not. This is a total waste of time." She could be somewhat honest, whomever this girl was, she didn't need to keep up appearances as much because even if this girl was a pureblood....she clearly wasn't someone on Topaz's level based on her age and the fact that nobody was on her level. "Seriously, I could be doing something to improve my intellectual capacity instead of dancing. The only worthwhile thing here is the food." Maybe she would sneak off later, after she ate, like Grandfather always did at school events. Topaz always saw him sneaking around with his flask. School events bored him to death and he always said the ball was the worst. "Besides, there are hardly any boys to dance with anyway." Most of them seemed taken - at least for the night and weren't worth taking away-or inappropriate.

And speaking of inappropriate, Topaz spotted her roommate, who looked like a prostitute. Honestly, that was not at all what the fourth year expected of Snotti-Ness. She had sort of assumed the girl would wear a suit like Lyssa Fitzgerald or come in her usual clothing to make some sort of self-righteous statement about balls being sexist or encouraging gender conformity or something ridiculous like that. (Not that Topaz was a fan either, but it was mostly that they were boring and pointless)The fact that the other Aladren was wearing a dress , was absolutely shocking as was the fact that she looked like a hooker when Topaz would have assumed Snotti-Ness was against stuff like that.

She turned back to the firstie and introduced herself, in hopes of getting her name. It was possible that Sapphire or Esme had mentioned her and the fourth year just wasn't listening. Besides,it wasn't as if she talked to either much as her close relatives, other than Grandfather, tried to avoid her."I am Topaz Brockert, of the Western Brockerts."

11 Topaz Brockert Hmm...I guess that's a good start 1427 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

April 28, 2020 8:26 PM

Start, end, what's it even matter? by Leonor De Matteo

Leonor couldn't help being a bit impressed. There weren't many people she'd met so far who were not boring and also not particularly interested in others. Mara wasn't boring, but she cared so much about other people that conversations sometimes took a turn into realms Leonor didn't want to visit. Jessica wasn't boring, but . . . well sometimes she was boring. Mostly though, she just seemed like she was from another planet more than anything else. Theo and Mab weren't boring, but it was because they were hilarious and just did their own thing. If she was lucky, maybe this girl would be like that. She was giving off the right vibes so far.

The phrase 'intellectual capacity' almost made Leonor laugh, but she decided that other people - smart people who had not been spending the past several months reading through budget reports, invoices, War and Peace, and all matter of other drivel might still have some capacity to be interested in expanding the mind, as they said.

"What's your pursuit of choice?" Leonor asked, curious despite herself. "What area of intellect would you work on expanding?"

She agreed on the assessment of the food, but that was a bittersweet discovery; the food wasn't any of the sorts of things Leonor would have preferred it to be, and it was still the best part of this whole thing. Boys were a topic they seemed to agree even less on, unless that edge in Topaz' voice was the same sort of resignation Leonor felt about the topic.

"None of them are interesting enough anyway," Leonor said, waving a hand dismissively. She could hear herself being rude and didn't particularly like it, but she couldn't seem to help it either. She was feeling tense and wound up and if she could unwind a little at someone else's expense, then so be it.

The Pureblood, high society introduction was one Leonor had picked up on early at Sonora, and she extended a hand in return. She was pretty sure there was only one set of De Matteos, but if that's how it was done then that's how she'd do it. If nothing else, it told everyone in earshot exactly who she wanted to align with. At least for the moment.

"Leonor De Matteo," she replied. "Of the Los Jardines de Plata De Matteos." Geez was that a bloody mouthful. There wasn't any better way to do this? "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Topaz."

22 Leonor De Matteo Start, end, what's it even matter? 1471 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 28, 2020 8:35 PM

That would be nice. by Nathaniel Mordue

It was, Nathaniel supposed, fitting that even going to the bathroom was impossible to do without some reminder of his responsibilities appearing. He was, after all, at a ball. That was a formal social occasion. He could never relax at such an event.

He pushed this thought away quickly. Really, Jeremy had, whenever Nathaniel had looked around to check on him, been doing very well this evening. He had talked to someone proper enough - her brother kept odd company, Nathaniel had seen him in the library with, among others, Ness McLeod and a gaggle of people Nathaniel didn't know and assumed were Muggleborns, but Sophia could hardly help that. He had danced with Miss Priory and had seemed to behave himself there, too - at the very least, Nathaniel had not noticed anyone stomping off in a rage, slapping anyone else, or otherwise acting as if something had gone terribly wrong. Plus, Jeremy was old enough now to know how important it was for them to behave properly, no matter what went on inside Jeremy's head. Maybe Nathaniel didn't have to worry about him every minute of every day. Or could at least, maybe, learn to hide it well enough that he could perhaps get Jeremy to actually let his guard down once in a while....

One of his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise at the question itself, though the tone was familiar enough. It occurred to him, fleetingly, to wonder if Jeremy also - in his own way - worried about Nathaniel doing something improper in public - something like breaking down or going catatonic in public again. They had never told Jeremy about Dr. Greene and the reasons she was supposedly necessary in so many words, but Jeremy would have to be an utter idiot not to have noticed that something was wrong last summer, and Jeremy would care about Nathaniel's behavior reflecting on him even if he didn't actually care about Nathaniel on a personal level - he had shown his capacity for that last Christmas, after all.

That, though, was a line of thought he did not want to go down. It was as much his fault that Jeremy had said that to their mother as it was Jeremy's or even Mama's, after all. He couldn't hold a grudge against Jeremy over it, he just had to try to figure out how to fix it.

"I haven't gotten slapped or engaged, so I'd say it's going pretty well," he said lightly, deciding that he didn't know at this point if Jeremy was actually challenging him or if that was just Jeremy's default tone of voice and that he should therefore just pretend there was no challenging tone to respond to. "How's yours?"

16 Nathaniel Mordue That would be nice. 1412 0 5

Ruby Brockert

April 28, 2020 11:13 PM

Good evening by Ruby Brockert

Although Ruby loved dressing up and looking beautiful, she had to admit this ball was...disappointing. It wasn't just that Dean wasn't here, it was that she really had nobody to dance with. Most of the appropriate boys were related to her. She had so far spent the evening socializing with people but she was disappointed by the lack of dancing she'd gotten to do and the fact that she had few options. Ruby hated to admit it but Topaz was sort of right.

Not that she was particularly looking for a husband, since she was probably going to be betrothed to Dean any time now, possibly shortly after Emerald's wedding. It was just that she needed something to do once she was finished eating.

On the plus side, Julius Astley had asked Allegra to the ball and Ruby was very happy for her. Her cousin deserved a lovely evening. The Teppenpaw was keeping an eye on them and Topaz to make sure that her sister didn't ruin things. And that Julius behaved like a gentleman. She was more worried about the former, having been on the receiving end of Topaz's....torture last summer.

Anyway, Ruby had consumed an awful lot of punch throughout the night just for something to do and needed to excuse herself to use the facilities. On the way out, she ran into Dorian, Dorian, who had been on her mind too. She had been...surprised about his apparent homosexuality, but she had really thought about it and.....she still liked him. He was the same guy and it was hard to just switch off the way she felt. Dorian was her friend and she cared about him. Ruby was sure she had relatives who wouldn't like who he was now but she still did. Besides, it wasn't as if she planned to marry him or anything.

"Hi." She replied. "Thank you." Ruby smiled shyly at the other Teppenpaw, wondering for a moment what she should say. She had very little experience in this area though she thought her grandfather had a cousin who was gay but she didn't know Margo that well. Maybe she should just be honest and tell him what she felt. "I, um, want you to know that I still like you and want to be friends." Ruby replied, giving him a hug. Honestly, she was more bothered by the fact that Dorian's non-student boyfriend was here and hers wasn't then the fact that he had a boy friend in the first place.

11 Ruby Brockert Good evening 1405 0 5

Dorian Montoir

April 29, 2020 5:26 AM

Yeah, it is by Dorian Montoir

Right. They weren’t tiptoeing around this then. Well… that was probably preferable. He had, after all, gone for the ripping off the band-aid approach, and had both kissed his boyfriend in public and danced with him here tonight. The time for any form of subtlety was probably well and truly over.

“Thanks,” he stated, that one word conveying the depth of emotion behind it as it shook perilously. He returned Ruby’s hug, not quite sure what he’d done to deserve so very many good people in his life. “That means a lot,” he added softly, feeling surprisingly comfortable. He was just… having a hug from his friend. And it was big and important, and it was also always the way it always had been. And he tried to focus on the latter. Not because the former was unimportant, but because he’d already done a lot of big feelings this year. It was nice to feel calm.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he added, as he pulled back. Of people he hadn’t got around to telling in person, Ruby was the one he was closest to. “It.. It just gets really tiring, after a while. Feeling like you’re...making this big declaration, and dealing with everyone’s reactions, and I was kind of… at capacity on doing that,” he tried to explain. He wasn’t sure whether she would understand how this felt, how exhausting sharing a piece of news could be. But he was pretty sure she would have seen how frayed around the edges he’d looked this year. She could understand that he’d been tired and run-down because she’d seen it. She was probably capable of guessing at why. He didn’t really want to dwell on the more negative aspects of his experience though.

“How is your evening going?” he added, wanting to move things on - wanting to show that they didn’t need to dwell on this and make a whole big deal out of it if, to Ruby, it really wasn’t.

13 Dorian Montoir Yeah, it is 1401 0 5

Lyssa Fitzgerald

April 29, 2020 9:02 AM

So tell me more about this… Ness by Lyssa Fitzgerald

A smile crept across her face, a contented smile. One that had come to visit and decided to stay for the whole conversation. Ness’ compliments were nice, and specific. Lyssa liked that and made a note to try to do incorporate that into her compliments later. She now had a lot of mental notes floating around and might need to write stuff down soon. If it was someone else, like Parker or Cleo she might do that, but right now there was a Valkyrie standing in front of her. A cool badass Valkyrie offering to make her jacket cooler.

“Umm yea. That would be cool,” Lyssa said with a sly smile. She was enjoying this conversation. And then just as suddenly, Lyssa wanted to run the booth around and wrap her jacket around Ness’ strong shoulders. In that moment Lyssa continued a thought process she’d had earlier in the evening. One that focused on why she hadn’t focused on the boys in her school. There was something about Ness that definitely made Lyssa focus.

Lyssa let out a chuckled at Ness’s comment about entitled chauvinists. “Sweeter than sugar I am sure,” she said, “I might have to try that some time if you have any I can borrow.”

Were they flirting? If they were, how did Lyssa feel about this? She searched herself and there was a bit of fear. But that fear was more that she was reading too much into this and they weren't flirting. Ness was hard to read. She found herself actively hoping they were flirting. Lyssa had friends that were girls in the past, even one that now had a girlfriend, but Lyssa had not felt drawn to one before like this. She’d felt drawn to a boy once before, but that was before she went away to Sonora and it wasn't like this.

Lyssa laughed again, “Of course it’s the name of a sports team. Too perfect not to be. Though I’ll leave you, the current Valkyrie and powerful sports star, to join them instead,” she said with a wink. Lyssa could feel warm all over and was sure that a cooling charm wasn’t going to cool that down as it was emanating from inside her chest.

“Speaking of women," Lyssa said slowly building up speed and using her left hand to help her speak, "I use she/her/hers as my pronouns." She had not done this at Sonora before. “What pronouns do you use?”

Was this too soon in the conversation to bring this up? Lyssa figured it was better to discuss this now so Lyssa didn't make Ness feel uncomfortable by using the wrong pronouns. She wanted Ness to feel as comfortable as Lyssa felt. Though for a brief moment, Lyssa worried that she'd just ruined it all. Retroactively, Lyssa felt Ness’ response could be a good barometer of possible compatibility, which she was sure was there. She liked talking with Ness and wanted to keep doing so.

41 Lyssa Fitzgerald So tell me more about this… Ness 1421 0 5

Jessica Hayles

April 29, 2020 9:31 AM

Oh, now you're tempting me. by Jessica Hayles

As iron sharpens iron, so man sharpens woman. Odd phrase, Jessica thought. It didn't quite work. Iron sharpening iron was a thing sharpening itself. Men were not women, and women were not men. If it had said something about another metal sharpening iron, or iron sharpening another metal, that would have worked, but...

...but this was not Language Arts class, and even the SAT had dropped analogies, she thought. So she let that one go for now.

"Fair point," she acknowledged at the end of Lyssa's spiel; Jessica wondered if she had rehearsed it. It sounded like a speech more than a spontaneous reaction, but it would have been a bit eerie if she had predicted Jessica would ask that... "And a very literary way of putting it - you have a way with words," she added with a smile. "It's also a fair point that this place could do with building something new," she added, and was proud of herself for not glancing around at any of the people whose foundations she'd personally like to undermine right here and now.

She considered Lyssa. Lyssa was wearing a suit and was clearly not trying to be pretty, which was one of those things that automatically made Jessica slightly suspicious - why would anyone choose to be not-pretty when being pretty was an option? Jessica pitied men, as a majority anyway, for not really being able to use jewelry and cosmetics and pretty clothes anymore; she would have hated having to wear boxy men's suits and cut all her hair off and go around bare-faced everywhere for the rest of her life - but she was floating interesting ideas, and she was someone else who was kind of pissed off at these people....

"Do you take owl letters?" she asked. "If you do, I'll figure out some way to send you some of those poems you asked about, and hash this out a little more over the summer. Or...I was about to say we could swap snail mail addresses before we leave tomorrow, but do you have email? I think I might technically still have an email," she said, perfectly aware she sounded almost embarrassingly pleased at the thought of using something which was frankly only so much less old-fashioned than snail mail.

16 Jessica Hayles Oh, now you're tempting me. 1442 0 5

Parker Fitzgerald

April 29, 2020 9:57 AM

Well that won't do. What cures headaches? by Parker Fitzgerald

Parker smiled at the young De Matteo. “Thank you Felipe, that’s very kind.” Parker thought about it. Felipe wasn’t actually that young. Only three years his junior, but that seemed like such a wide age gap for some reason. Parker waved goodbye with his free hand.

Still, Lyssa had survived their first interaction at the booth. She had responded to Felipe’s question matter of factly, possibly because she hadn’t practiced or had a script. Parker thought of Lyssa standing in her room yelling her letters out loud. He was a bit surprised Cleo and Lyssa hadn’t created a script of some kind. Maybe they were thinking of other things.

Parker couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping his lips when Cleo said she sucked at this. And then she leaned on his shoulder and the chuckle left his lips and he felt a warm glow sprout from his heart to his face. He double checked, just him not any added extra power from Cleo.

“You don’t suck Cleo. Just new. I speak my thoughts, so talking is...comfortable for me. It’s like when I started Herbology. Remember how bad I was? We just need to figure out how to make you feel comfortable.”

Parker didn’t move, he didn’t want to alert Cleo to the fact that she was, in fact, touching him. It felt nice. Then she lifted her head and looked at him, and he was momentarily worried by the look on her face. Then he was confused.

“Embarrassed? What? No.” Parker replayed the recent encounter in his head. His eyes looked around the room a bit as he was trying to think. “Why would…” then Parker looked at Cleo. "Wait. Cause you didn’t want to hold my hand?” Parker gave a small laugh. “Cleo. No. Not at all.”

“All of this,” he gave a wave of his hand around the booth and then to her lovely sash, “is about allowing choice. I don’t mind if you choose not to hold my hand. After all,” he said tilting his head slightly and smiling, “you did choose to come with me to the dance,” Parker punctuated this comment with a playful wink.

“So no. You can’t embarrass me by exercising your choice Cleo, ok?” Parker wanted to grab her hands to make her realize that he was serious but held back.

“I will add," he said, returning to a more playful tone, "that your head on my shoulder did make me forget about hand holding, you know, if you’d rather do that.” He was trying to make her feel more comfortable, cause the more comfortable she felt the better she'd do at talking, or so he thought.

41 Parker Fitzgerald Well that won't do. What cures headaches? 1402 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 29, 2020 12:16 PM

I appreciate that. by Nathaniel Mordue

Nathaniel frowned slightly, momentarily engaged by the idea she was presenting instead of merely reacting to one of his least favorite topics. Did bad people deserve to be ruined?

"I suppose it depends on exactly what they did, and maybe why," he said slowly. "And what the consequences of exposing them would be." Because there was always a price to pay for everything. Nathaniel knew this as well as he knew his own name. There was no way to punish the wicked without harming others who didn't deserve it, without setting off potentially catastrophic chains of events. That was why it was best to handle everything quietly, among themselves, at home, without paying too much attention to the niceties which mostly existed just to keep the Muggleborns in check anyway, and which allowed so much extra trouble to happen...and now he was back to his own sorry excuse for a life.

"If exposing someone for something will hurt more people than it helps, then I suppose you could ask the question," he concluded, deciding against actually mentioning the families who would suffer as a result of someone's misdeeds getting a public airing. It was true no matter what, after all - the Newells could have told her as much as that - but unless she was utterly oblivious to the world around her, which he didn't think she was, it would inevitably make her think about his family and the things his parents had done.

He smiled again, though, when she said she might just stick to reporting on magical developments. "That's definitely safer," he said. "And generally less ethically complicated, I imagine. Most of the time." He would not say all of the time, because anything could go wrong, and it was his firm belief that anything which lasted long enough eventually would go wrong. A good strategy might hide the fact it had gone wrong from the world, but even saving face wouldn't actually erase the fact that something had gone wrong. It was part of the inevitable slide they all took toward Death, he supposed. Everything started to decay even while you were still alive, at one pace or another.

16 Nathaniel Mordue I appreciate that. 1412 0 5

Mab

April 29, 2020 12:34 PM

For Real by Mab

Mab smiled when Alexander said 'Yes'. It was even an eager yes, despite the pause preceding it. That was good. It was looking very promising that her plan may actually work. Alexander was on board. She was on board. Even Bel was on board. This was going to happen.

Of course, Alexander was a little apprehensive about it all. That was fair. She was, too. But not by as much as she would have been if she hadn't just spent an entire school year sharing a room with Leonor DeMatteo. That blunted a lot of her worries about sharing spaces. If she survived living in the same room as Leonor for this long, sharing an apartment with Alexander while having her own separate room available would be a breeze. And of the two of them, it wasn't Leonor she'd have picked to live with, given a choice.

"It's possible," she answered his question with certainty. Her knowledge of Bel was not absolute. They'd only lived together for a few months before Mab had moved off to Sonora for most of the year. But one thing she did know was this. "Bel is a force of nature. Once she decides she wants something, she's getting it. She can and will do this. She said she would and she is very emphatic about keeping promises."

Mab smiled a little at Alexander's joke, but felt kind of bad about it. As little as she'd had for most of life Before Bel, she'd always at least had something. "Yeah, well, unfortunately, she can't work instant miracles, so you'll have to go back to Seattle for a couple days. But keep that pocket ready, because we're bustin' you out of that joint."

At that point, they reached the drink table and she collected a cup of water, deliberately avoiding the pumpkin juice also on option. She'd never understood the appeal of juice made out of vegetables, but the pumpkin variety seemed very big in the Fey Lands. There was maybe some fey magic involved. "Do you like pumpkin juice, or do you find it as weird as I do?" she asked, mostly to gauge his atunement to that aspect of the fey world. She'd gathered he was also a changeling, so she hoped she wasn't falling behind the curve of even those others who weren't raised in this place.

1 Mab For Real 1473 Mab 0 5

Lyssa Fitzgerald

April 29, 2020 1:26 PM

I look forward to moving beyond temptation towards action. by Lyssa Fitzgerald

Air rushed back into her lungs and Lyssa realized that part of her had been holding her breath. Then Jessica complimented her, or at least she was taking it as a compliment. And then she was agreeing with Lyssa.

Lyssa had a high view of herself. She knew she was smart and capable, and she thought, quite attractive when she tried. Before coming to Sonora she found this combination had often upset boys. The end result being that they bullied her. This in turn had led her to at times push herself to appear even smarter or more combative in her intelligence, and at other times, to actively try to not look attractive, or at least what the boys deemed attractive. Some of that had gone by the wayside, but old habits die hard. Though she did feel she’d made herself look quite attractive tonight.

Anyways, having a high opinion of yourself means nothing if it isn’t, every once in a while, validated from an external source, especially one that doesn’t have any reason to do so. Thus Jessica Hayles' statement, of the Groves and Hayles!, that she was good with her words made Lyssa’s body bubble with a low level of excitement that hadn’t been there before.

“Thank you. That is nice of you to say Jessica. That means a lot, especially coming from you.”

And then Jessica wanted to talk in the summer. Via owl, or snail mail or email. Lyssa momentarily was speechless. This had gone better than she could have hoped. What had started as an apology had ended as a possible partnership possibly friendship? No, lets stay with partnership.

“I have email,” Lyssa said, “I tend to use that when I am home. Cause our technology is a wee bit faster for things like that,” she said with a smile. “But I’ll also give snail mail in case you can’t get into your email or whatever. But I’ll do it tomorrow morning, so you don’t have to carry it around all evening.”

Lyssa stood up, not remembering having sat, but having found herself in a chair none-the-less. She didn’t want to take up any more of Jessica’s time. She was sure Jessica had other people to talk to.

“Jessica it was a delight to talk with you in all your regalness, but I’ll let you go work the room. I hope you have a lovely rest of your evening,” Lyssa said with a slight curtsey, using her jacket as the skirt.

41 Lyssa Fitzgerald I look forward to moving beyond temptation towards action. 1421 0 5

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 29, 2020 1:51 PM

Today turned out to be much better than I'd expected. by Alexander Pierce-Beales

It's possible was only mildly encouraging, as if it turned out not to work, that was going to suck. Still, Alexander was about to turn down an opportunity just in case. Who would do that? Not him. He almost laughed when Mab said he'd have to go back to Seattle for a couple days. Adoption and foster stuff could take months or years, he'd seen it happen, and the idea that it was going to happen at all was a big deal. A few days was nothing. Unless . . . well, if he went back and a few days turned into a few weeks and then a few months and then he came back to Sonora and nothing had changed, that might be too much. He began the process of bracing himself mentally for the wait he'd be enduring as he was sure it was going to be one of the longest of his life. Longer even than waiting to hear back from the hospital, or, now, Mathias Stones.

"We really made this wild west thing work out," he chuckled, appreciating the image of Mab in a showdown with whichever of the group home's staff members was on duty.

Alexander took punch when Mab got water, figuring he could have water most any time but punch was not so easily available. Of course, that might be changing too. He nodded his agreement about pumpkin juice though.

"Seattle is the Starbucks capital of the world I think," he pointed out. "I'm pretty used to being around pumpkin flavored stuff, but like . . . pumpkin pie coffee seems different than . . . what just juiced pumpkin? That sounds gross. I guess a group of people that make and consume potions - which are real nasty looking - probably are excited for the opportunity to drink a juiced squash."

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales Today turned out to be much better than I'd expected. 1475 0 5

Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

April 29, 2020 2:25 PM

You're not a librarian tonight! by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne

Having gotten the initial pre-Ball dance in with Tabitha, Mary was confident that she could enjoy the rest of the evening from the sidelines. That turned out to not be true at all because Mary simply couldn't help but wanting to dance a little when so much joy and pretty things and music was all packed into one room. But as far as she could tell, none of the professors were dancing at that particular moment, and the night was halfway through. She did a little cheer, happy to hear that her alma mater House had won the house cup, and scanned the room. Now she absolutely had to dance, and Tabitha might just lose it if she kept begging the woman for another one. She would probably acquiesce as well, but that was hardly any fun. A reluctant pity dance was not what Mary was going for.

Nearby, she noticed Tarquin and Danny chatting, and her grin grew. She always loved to see them. Although they could practically be her parents, they were the closest thing to "same" that Mary and Tabitha had here. Plus they were just super nice people. Tarquin, Mary had decided, was a bit like the corner piece of a brownie: hard, dark, and absolutely the best piece.

As she approached, she heard the two discussing music choices and dancing, and took it as an opportunity to chime in. "What if a pretty girl asked you?" she teased, smirking as Tarquin turned around. She leaned around him to smile at his husband. "Hi, Danny, it's good to see you. Am I hearing right that Mr. Fox-Reynolds isn't up for dancing with his lovely spouse? That simply won't do, my friend!"

22 Mary Brooding-Hawthorne You're not a librarian tonight! 1424 0 5

Caitlin Pierce

April 29, 2020 10:12 PM

Some people are making it difficult by Caitlin Pierce

Caitlin smiled when Sylvia approached her. " Thank you." She accepted the compliment. "That's the problem with giving those sorts of people positions like prefect." It still boggled the mind how someone not even human could get prefect over Clifford Brockert's great-great-grandson. Honestly, that might have been one of the drawbacks into not enough proper purebloods going into education as a career. Most of the staff had clear biases against people who were deserving, people like her. Caitlin had indeed gotten prefect but the other choice was also an important pureblood so they'd really had no options but to give it to someone worthy.

"Not to mention that those people clearly are not understanding what appropriate ball attire means." The Crotalus complained to her friend. " Some of these girls are completely under dressed and Katerina's roommate is wearing men's clothing!" The former of which seemed not to understand they were supposed to wear something fancy, like herself and Sylvia and the rest of her friends and latter of which was a travesty. It was puzzling to Caitlin too. Why would a girl not want to wear a gorgeous fancy gown? She supposed some people couldn't afford such things and that was why some were so plain. That could not be helped, she supposed.

Still, they were making a mockery of everything the fifth year held dear. Not just traditional pureblood values, but beauty and fashion and all things feminine. It was like they were saying suddenly, what they wanted was what was important and that people like Caitlin did not matter at all. Even if they wanted to be treated equal to purebloods like her-which they should not be as they were inferior-that meant that they should be treated the same as purebloods, not they got treated excellently and purebloods got treated poorly. Besides, for all they talked about being all inclusive, they sure forgot that the perspectives of both purebloods and girls who generally preferred more traditional femininity mattered too. Not to mention, she wanted to have as nice an evening as possible with the limited options of the student body and they were impeding that!

Speaking of which, Caitlin suddenly spotted one of the younger girls wearing something that was very much not ball attire. In fact she was wearing something down right indecent."Oh dear Merlin," The fifth year gasped. She nodded at the girl "That's downright indecent . Someone should really say something." The girl was in what looked to be a gymnastics leotard with tights. This was even less appropriate ball attire than what Nessa or Lyssa was wearing.That girl should be thrown out or at least forced to go back and put on something more suitable.

11 Caitlin Pierce Some people are making it difficult 1415 Caitlin Pierce 0 5

Ruby Brockert

April 30, 2020 12:11 AM

Depends on your perspective by Ruby Brockert

"You're welcome." Ruby nodded. She couldn't imagine what it was like for Dorian to do something, feel something, be something that society generally wasn't that accepting of. The sixth year girl was basically in a very...safe, comfortable position in life. About the only thing where she hadn't been what was wanted when her parents obviously wanted a boy and she was a second girl. Still, Ruby had never truly felt any less loved than Jasper was, their mother didn't really pay any more attention to him then the rest of them. The worst thing in her life was having a younger sister who was rather mean.

"I understand." The Teppenpaw replied. She might not have known exactly what Dorian was going through but she did understand why he might not be interested in telling someone like her, what with the kind of family she was from. It wasn't a thing that was often discussed among them. Like aside from occasional mentions of Grandfather's cousin Margo being a lesbian-and some much more negative comments from Uncle Eustace about boys who were less masculine such as Owen, who very clearly was not gay-Ruby had not heard it come up ever. And she was certain her lack of close contact with Margo was largely because of how distant the relationship was.

"It's...okay I guess." Ruby responded. "I mean, it's not bad but... my boyfriend wasn't allowed to come and there are not...a lot of options for me to dance with. Plus, a lot of people in our age group are busy spending time with their dates so that kind of limits my choices for people to talk to as well." Her sisters and Esme did not have dates but spending too much time around one's family did seem to be rather frowned upon. For one thing, it looked like nobody really liked you. Also, Ruby honestly did not want to spend time with Topaz.

Anyway, she still wasn't sure exactly why Dorian's boyfriend was here and others didn't get to have their outside dates but she didn't really want to bring that up to the other Teppenpaw lest he think she had problem with something he was doing after all. Ruby was more confused by it than anything though she would have liked to have Dean there. If she placed blame on anyone, it would have been the staff and not Dorian.

11 Ruby Brockert Depends on your perspective 1405 0 5

Zara Jackson

April 30, 2020 4:27 AM

Why fight those? by Zara Jackson

‘Perfecto’ was one of those handy words that was pretty easy to translate. There was a ‘me’ in there too but Zara was pretty sure it was her that was being called perfect. She smiled. Maybe she would get around to learning some more Spanish one day. She had tried to get the basic pleases and thank yous right on her last trip, and her food word knowledge was pretty okay… But sometimes it was nice to just hear the sounds, and not know a specific meaning beyond the fact that she’d made him let his guard down. That was more than enough.

Is this okay?

She was tempted to tell him that no, it was not - that he needed to shut up and kiss her. But then he did. Zara generally thought that Felipe should taste like pineapple, spice, and all things nice. Right now she could smell fruit punch on his breath instead. She suspected that was the same for pretty much everyone in the room. A mental image of taste testing them all flashed through her mind and she suppressed a giggle. She didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him. Nor did she particularly think he’d be amused or flattered if she explained her actual mental image.

It wasn’t like she wanted to kiss everyone else. She was more than happy with just him. Just… brains were so random sometimes.

“Mmhmm,” she answered his question softly, pressing her lips firmly against his, one arm sliding down under his so she could pull him in as closely as he was pulling her.

13 Zara Jackson Why fight those? 1444 0 5

Theo Spurn

April 30, 2020 6:12 AM

It's about to get even better!!! by Theo Spurn

Talking to Lyssa had reminded Theo about Mab. Not that he had particularly forgotten her, but he had not overly noticed her. Maybe her dress wasn’t the most touchy. Maybe she was doing That Mab Thing where she was there but wasn’t - it happened sometimes in the common room that he suddenly noticed she was there and he had no idea how long that had been the case because she didn’t move or make noise. Or maybe he had just been thinking about his own coat too much.

Anyway, Mab didn’t like touching and he worried how you gave someone hugs when they didn’t want to be touched, but luckily he had a little bag of fuzzy hug substitutes swinging happily from his wrist. He didn’t think they were really quite the same as a hug, but they were soft and comforting and it would be good for Mab to have one just in case she kept not hugging people.

“I’m not touching you,” he declared as he barrelled straight into the middle of what interaction she was having. “I know you don’t like it so I’m not doing it but I thought you might be sad without hugs so you can have this but also it’s not really like a hug but it is but soft things are for everybody,” he explained, bouncing on his toes, holding out a pipe cleaner flower for her. “There’s also badges about not touching,” he added helpfully, gesturing vaguely at the stall.

“You get one too,” he added to Alexander holding out another flower.

13 Theo Spurn It's about to get even better!!! 1476 0 5

Theo Spurn

April 30, 2020 7:21 AM

And you need soft things by Theo Spurn

This was tricky. Theo was trying very hard to think about rules, like ‘no touching.’ He had had quite a nice break where he had gone and seen some touchy people and squeezed and been petted and not had to worry but now he needed to keep spreading cheer and softness.

But it was tricky because you weren’t supposed to interrupt grown ups when they were busy grown upping. That was one rule he only sometimes needed a reminder about because grown ups took it very seriously and talked about it a lot.

Professor Marsh(mallow?) definitely needed a flower to go with his beard and with Theo’s pleased-to-see-him-ness. But he was talking to Professor Wright-This-Way and Mr Row-Upon-Row. They could have flowers too, of course. But how to do it without interrupting? He could just… go up and attach the flower. But that was touching without asking. Which rule was more important? Was there a way to not break either?

It was possible that he was allowed to touch Professor Marsh(mallow). It was very helpful how people were wearing badges if they needed asking first, so he could remember with them, and just cheerfully grab anyone else (unless they were Mab). He couldn’t see the front of Professor Marsh from here. So, he couldn’t say that he definitely wasn’t allowed to touch him… But it was hard to be sure. And Lyssa would probably not be okay with that and he liked Lyssa’s suit and didn’t want to be on the list of people who weren’t allowed near it. He suspected Lyssa had a list like that because Lyssa had a badge.

Theo fiddled with the pipe-cleaner flower, working out an idea. He very carefully made a loop in the stem of the flower, sidling up and started trying to slip it around one of the buttons on the cuff of the non-drink-holding-hand that was hanging at the Professor’s side. He was not touching. Nor was he interrupting. He just needed to do this as subtly and gently as one could… whilst wearing a bright orange shirt. And being in the eyeline of two other people. And carrying out something which involved invading personal space and probably creating a small amount of tug on someone’s sleeve.

Which was to say… ‘not very subtly at all.’

13 Theo Spurn And you need soft things 1476 Theo Spurn 0 5

Jasmine Delachene

April 30, 2020 11:36 AM

Tonight, imagine me, gown and all, fetchingly draped against the wall by Jasmine Delachene

Jasmine let out a small delighted squeal as she saw the change Gary had made to his robes. Epaulets! It was perfect! And even his normally wild hair was tidied up nicely.

She beamed at him as he complimented her, and laughed at his joke, because he was right. The necklace just wouldn't fall right with that golden cord across his chest, and his sleeves would completely cover the bracelet. Much better that she was the one wearing them.

And he brought her flowers! Wonderful! She allowed him to fasten the corsage around her wrist. She brought it up to her nose and breathed in the lovely fragrance of fresh flowers. "They're perfect! You're perfect. The whole night is going to be perfect! I'm so happy!" she bubbled.

Then he offered his arm again and they were off to stand where the prefects were waiting to be presented. She might not be a prefect herself (she gave Peyton a wave when she saw her roommate waiting with Conner) but this still felt like her moment of glory.

They were sadly not announced individually, but it was still lovely, walking out onto the dance floor on her prince's arm, feeling the eyes of the rest of the school follow her and the others. The dance lessons paid off. Gary did a reasonably good job leading for a beginner, and the width of her dress kept people at enough of a distance that there wasn't too much risk of collision.

All too soon the first song was over and some of the prefects began to disperse. "Dance again?" she asked Gary, "Or do you want to mingle first?"

1 Jasmine Delachene Tonight, imagine me, gown and all, fetchingly draped against the wall 1397 0 5

Gary Harper

April 30, 2020 1:50 PM

The picture of sophisticated grace by Gary Harper

Gary's face lit up in reaction to her response. He had done it! She was happy and excited! Somehow, against all odds, he had given Jasmine the perfect ball experience. Now he just needed to maintain perfection the whole night. Oh dear. No! He could do it, if it was the last thing he did, he could do it! Tonight he was a prince, and he was bringing his princess to a ball, and she was going to have the most wonderful, magical time he could possible make for her. That was all that mattered tonight.

He almost gave her one of his grins, but caught it just in time. Princes don't grin like that. Instead he smiled happily. "You are definitely perfect." He responded to her as he took her arm and led her out onto the dance floor with the other prefects. The whole place looked marvelous, he stood in awe a few moments while Professor Skies welcomed them.

Gary turned to Jasmine and realized he had completely forgotten everything they'd worked on in the dance classes. He panicked, and in an attempt to buy time (and mildly inspired by the sash Cleo was wearing), he bowed to his princess, "May I have this dance?" The pause allowed the panic to subside and he started at step one once she agreed. Deep breath, tale 10 and start at step one.

Step one, put hands here and there. Not other places. That point had been made clear during lessons. That he remembered, hopefully it was a sign that everything else was coming back as well. Step two, feet go these places..... and nearly everything past that was lost again in the closeness and fragrance of his princess. He moved his foot and everything and everyone began swirling around in music and colors and.. magic?

The music died off and the spinning came to a stop. What had happened? Something in his head chattered on about muscle memory and frequent repetition of patterns. The dance had concluded, he let go of Jasmine and he was pretty sure he had his stupid grin on his face. He tried to restore it to the princely smile and seemed to get it under control. Then she asked an easy question. Hold onto a beautiful girl while trying not to step on her feet, or talk to random people?

Still, there was some consideration to take here. This was Jasmine's perfect ball, what does she want to do? He almost responded with a 'Whatever you want', but that was not a perfect princely response. He had to be assertive and tell her that he wanted to do the thing that she wanted to do. So all he needed to do was to figure out what she wanted. He now suspected why someone had invented the Legilimency spell. She was a social creature, she would want to interact with the others, show off her dress and such. However, she was also a princess at a ball and to the best of his knowledge, princesses danced through the entire event.

His self-figured out and totally accurate psychology knowledge broke the tie. When someone asked what to do next and gave you multiple options, they generally lead with what they wanted to do. He just had to say it correctly. "I would be honored to have another dance with the most beautiful girl in the ballroom," he held out his hand to her, "then perhaps we can go mingle."

2 Gary Harper The picture of sophisticated grace 1404 0 5

Mab

April 30, 2020 1:55 PM

That's a bold claim by Mab

Mab tipped an imaginary cowboy hat at Alexander at his wild west comment, then nodded (without showing her relief) when he confirmed pumpkin juice just seemed gross to him, too. Though he did make a good point on the issue of potions. She had thankfully avoided needing to imbibe any of the concoctions they'd brewed up in potions, and when she'd had a cold over the winter she just hadn't gone to the nurse out of fear that something much worse than Tylenol might be given for her to take. She'd rather suffer three weeks of sneezing and coughing than drink something with chopped creature guts in it.

Before she could remark upon this insight, though, Theo registered on her radar and her eyes widened very slightly in alarm. Her stance changed to something more aggressive, not because she thought Theo might try to hurt her, but because she feared he might try to hug her.

He stopped a safe distance away though, and she was surprised when he assured her that he wouldn't touch her. She blinked. Her guard lessened marginally. Somebody must have talked to him about social norms, and it maybe even got through.

She accepted the flower that was offered to her with mute disbelief. Fey people were just weird. "I . . . thank you," she got out, and was very glad when he turned his attention over to Alexander instead. She looked over in the direction Theo had pointed and saw a booth set up, but she couldn't quite see what it was promoting from here. She made a mental not to see what he was talking about in a little while. Badges? For not touching? Some kind of contest? She thought she'd do well in a not touching contest.

1 Mab That's a bold claim 1473 0 5

Lawrence Marsh

April 30, 2020 2:06 PM

Historically, I'm not usually soft by Lawrence Marsh

Lawrence was feeling calmer. He didn't feel tense, as if he was a cheetah that had been stalking its prey for years and was now able to relax. He could feel a part of him loosen. Was that even possible? Maybe some three-headed dog inside of him had finally shaken itself out of a collar. Maybe the collar had been placed around its kneck for its protection, perhaps for tracking purposes, or maybe to protect others. Whatever way, something inside of him was now free, and he felt… at ease.

"Sorry Gray. I didn't mean to put you in the spotlight; it's just… well, one gets quite lonely in the middle of the Antipodes, especially when trying to protect Antipodean Opaleye from poachers. Radio plays reminded one of the world outside of the valleys, so I listened to a lot of them."

Lawrence briefly paused, he didn't think it was adequate to bring up that he'd heard Gray's plays after his Lethifold attack, and that they were some of the only non-narcotic things that brought him pleasure. Yes, Gray was a Golden Snidget, and one that Lawrence had found out there in the wilderness, that unknowingly helped bring him here.

Lawrence turned to Killian and measured his question. He guessed he could use the help of some students, and it would probably be useful for some of his intermediates and advanced students to have more interactions with the animals that they had around campus. He looked at Killian and wondered what the counselor was thinking. If he was trying to "help" Lawrence in some way Lawrence couldn't figure out.

"To be honest, I hadn't thought of that until now," Lawrence weighed up the options in his head, "but it would be helpful. Plus, we don't have any Griffins to my knowledge, so we don't need to worry there."

"Thank you. It is… still a learning process for me," Lawrence said as he took a sip of his drink. Just then, he felt something on his wrist. His heart started beating faster and could taste the bile in the back of his throat. His vision darkened slightly. He was far away from his newfound flock and back in his tent in the middle of Antipodes. The music disappeared as the blood thumped in his ears. His left arm stayed calm, but the rest of his body tensed as he put down his drink, ready to grab his wand. He slowly looked down to see... a pipe cleaner flower?

It took a few beats for Lawrence to realize what he was looking at. He'd half expected a dark cloak to be brushing his hand. As the sound of the hall flooded back into his ears and the lights brightened around him, the tension drained from his body. His nerves disappeared and he could feel himself laughing. Not the quick bark he had done previously, but a long low growl of a laugh. He turned to see one of his Beginners. Theo.

"Hi there Theo, you gave me quite a start," Lawrence said chuckling to himself as his laughter finally subsided. He looked down at his flower. It had been made with care. Lawrence thought of the birds he studied that would create platforms to dance on and bring shiny objects to those they were interested in. Lawrence knew this boy was not interested in him the same way the birds were, surely, but the flower did show general appreciation for both the flower and the person receiving the flower.

"Is this for me little sparrow?" he asked, bending down to be closer to Theo's height, the adrenaline all but drained from his system, "It is beautiful, and I will put it in a place of honor in my nest. Thank you."

41 Lawrence Marsh Historically, I'm not usually soft 1462 Lawrence Marsh 0 5

Alexander Pierce-Beales

April 30, 2020 4:07 PM

But an entertaining one. by Alexander Pierce-Beales

As it turned out, Alexander had been right on the money in thinking that Mab was capable of punching him in the eye should he upset her. This was evidenced in the arrival of another first year, one Alexander recognized was from Mab's own House. He watched as the Pecari moved very quickly and then offered Alexander a flower and the whole thing was just a lot.

He accepted the flower the a polite nod and then glanced over his shoulder to see what booth the boy was talking about. Alexander wasn't against people touching him, or touching people, but he also hadn't found very many good reasons to go about doing so yet. This boy seemed to have other thoughts on it. It took Alexander a moment to remember his name was Theo. "Thanks," he added for the flower.

"It's good of you not to hug people who don't want to be hugged," Alexander told him. He thought that that was probably the best sort of person to be, was one who didn't take away other folks' autonomy. He looked down at his suit, checking the velvet liner for pockets to see if he had, somehow, brought a soft thing for the boy who thought soft things were for everyone. "I didn't bring anything to give people," he said glumly. "But my jacket is soft." He pulled the side out to reveal the fuzzy black interior and held it out where the boy could see it, or touch it, or whatever he was inclined to do. Probably not lick it. Alexander would put a stop to that one.

22 Alexander Pierce-Beales But an entertaining one. 1475 0 5

Jessica Hayles

April 30, 2020 5:07 PM

You're doing well so far. by Jessica Hayles

Especially coming from her. Jessica wondered if this was overt flattery. She would have assumed, after all, that she was the sort of person Lyssa might think was one of the problems in the world - rather as Someone Else, someone whose existence Jessica did her very best to ignore, seemed to do. She warmed slightly to the besuited girl just the same, though. She had done well enough at making friends this year that she no longer worried about just being attacked by any random person she spoke to anymore, but Felipe and Zara and Jeremy made her grateful now when it didn't happen.

That Lyssa might know who she was didn't occur to her. Sadie had, after all, been an anomaly. Most people her age didn't instantly recognize her last name - even if they knew that a family called Hayles owned Arvale Cosmetics, why would they know that they had a daughter named Jessica, much less expect her to be here? - and who here followed politics at home closely enough to know about the alliance between a Georgia businessman and one of the state's surviving political dynasties? Her great-grandfather had run for president, it was true, but he hadn't won. Perhaps, she thought, she somehow sounded rich - had a voice full of money, or however it went.

"No kidding," she laughed when Lyssa acknowledged that email was faster than what wizards could imitate. "Thank you, that sounds good," she said.

She smiled again, bemused, at her regalness being discussed, but decided to just run along with it. Lyssa semi-curtsied with her suit, and so Jessica mimicked a bow, despite being the one who was properly attired for curtsying, if one was really going to do that. "You, too," she said. "Good luck with your rounds."

16 Jessica Hayles You're doing well so far. 1442 0 5

Killian Row

April 30, 2020 5:32 PM

Hard candy shell, soft and sweet inside? by Killian Row

Killian thought that he'd gotten very lucky tonight. While he generally was friendly enough with his colleagues, he didn't have many opportunities to just stand about and chat, and there was nothing quite like a hormone party to make three grown men feel uncomfortable enough to bond. It was great. Also, Killian really wanted to hear that radio show. He wasn't entirely surprised to find that Marsh had been the type to lay down in front of a bulldozer, so to speak, but he did wonder what that was like. Killian couldn't imagine being alone for so long; it wasn't in his nature.

He appreciated the insights into these students as it was a side of them he didn't get to see often. In retrospect, he should have done more to ask other staff members what they saw in these young people. It was particularly interesting that, for all either of them agreed that 'kids these days' could be crazy, they also spoke with such warm fondness that Killian couldn't help smiling. Gray had a number of students off the top of his head that he knew well enough both to know they might do something crazy and to sound concerned that they'd get hurt trying. Marsh had taken Killian's comment seriously enough to think about the opportunities he could offer students and the opportunities he might benefit from himself. Perhaps Killian was reading too much into their tones, but he thought that these must have been two of the most secretly warm-hearted people at Sonora.

"Might be good for all of you then," he told Marsh about a student helper, smiling. "You, the student, and the creature that isn't a griffin!"

He paid his compliments and gratitude and Marsh was responding when a first year ran up to him. Something changed in the professor's eyes, but Killian wasn't quite sure what it was. It looked a bit like each look he'd seen in Lorcan's eyes, but he wasn't one to make assumptions about that.

Theo Spurn - 11, Pecari, accommodations on file. Killian smirked a little at the boy who was clearly trying to do a nice thing, if perhaps a little misguided in his efforts. They did however, seem to have an effect on Marsh, who was doing nothing if not proving Killian's theory that he was a secret softy.

"I like your shirt," Killian told him, noting the bright orange as saying a lot about Theo's personality. As if the pipe cleaner flower didn't already. Killian glanced around at Gray and smiled. He thought that the Charms professor might be the type to leave himself out, whether or not he was being left out, and Killian didn't want that to happen. "We should have worn brighter colors," he told him. "Better than who knew we'd have fit in best by standing out?"

22 Killian Row Hard candy shell, soft and sweet inside? 1450 0 5

Morgan Garrett

April 30, 2020 7:25 PM

You probably aren't talented enough for the stage, anyway. by Morgan Garrett

Okay, this girl seriously needed knocking down a peg. Or six.

"Cause that's super relevant today," drawled Morgan flatly in response to the claim that Leonor's family had just been given a fiefdom a few generations ago. That was silly, of course. Morgan knew she knew very little about politics and history, but even she knew about the confusion it had caused back home - Kentucky-home, that was - when the parties had basically switched names. That had been before her dad was even born, and her grandma had been like a kid or something, but it had been upsetting enough to people that even Morgan still heard people complain about it. Plus she had learned a little in school about the civil rights and everything, people getting in a bunch of fights in Mississippi and Alabama. Just because something had always been a way wasn't a good reason for it to stay that way. "And I thought you di'n't like the status quo?"

That was probably, she thought, a bit of a low blow. Normally, she thought she would have felt bad about making it. Later, she probably would feel bad, come to that. Right now, though, she had been pushed a bit too far, and was almost enjoying the rush that came with breaking the rules, with being rude, with not being a good girl like her family wanted...

Despite this, her mouth moved automatically in response to a pleasantry. "You, too," she said in something close to the correct tone, with something close to - but very definitely not - a smile. It was, after all, possible to be just close enough to correct to get away with not being very correct at all, at least if you were talking to someone your own age. Momma would have knocked her upside the head, but Leonor was, she thought grimly, still fair game.

16 Morgan Garrett You probably aren't talented enough for the stage, anyway. 1470 0 5

Sylvia Mordue

April 30, 2020 8:01 PM

Yes, I've noticed by Sylvia Mordue

“Yes, they really should,” Sylvia agreed when Caitlin stated someone should say something about the second year in a dance leotard. “But it doesn’t have to be to her face,” she added, leaning in and whispering exactly what she thought Anya looked like in Caitlin’s ear with a giggle.

“At least it makes it easy to know who to avoid,” she stated, though her expression suggested something rather unpleasant smelling had crossed her path. “I can’t stand it when they pretend to be like us,” she added. “At least she’s sticking to her own social class for dance partners,” she added, with a nod to Jasmine Delachene, though Caitlin likely knew who she was talking about already. The fact that Jasmine was jumped up with airs and graces above her station was not a new thought. “Not that any of our gentlemen would stoop so low.

“Honestly, if Vlad Brockert doesn’t get head boy, and if she gets head girl, this school is just… over, socially,” she stated. “I look forward to graduating, when I’ll have the choice of whether or not I want to be connected with it any more,” she stated. And this time it was an ‘I.’ Often with Caitlin it was ‘we’ this and ‘we’ that because of course they thought and did much the same things. But only Sylvia was going to get to shake off the negative associations once she left the school. Its reputation was about to become a Pierce problem.

“What do we think to Vlad Brocket anyway?” she added, “Is he in or out, as far as suitable dance partners go? I mean, I can see that it’s not politic to fall out with the person you’re forced to live with but… really? Wouldn’t you at least try to establish some distance to stop it from sticking to you too? He’s been acting like nothing has changed.”

13 Sylvia Mordue Yes, I've noticed 1413 0 5

Grayson Wright

April 30, 2020 8:05 PM

I'll be an apple. I get soft spots over time. by Grayson Wright

Apparently, Marsh was serious about his magical creatures. He knew what an Opaleye was. That was a dragon, and while Care of Magical Creatures had never been Gray's strongest subject in school, he thought he remembered something about dragons being impossible to domesticate, which made him suspect that dragons were also unlikely to be much friendlier toward their protectors than they were toward poachers.

"Quite all right," he said. "I'm glad you enjoyed them." Well, at least he assumed the other man had enjoyed them - he had called them entertaining, hadn't he? No, fun, that was the word he'd used. Still, one enjoyed fun things, didn't one? He thought it was part of the definition. If it was not enjoyable, it was not fun. So there.

He noticed Theo Spurn, of course, because the boy was one of those students he'd learned to make a point of noticing when he was about - just in case, and as much for Theo's own sake as the sake of keeping a reasonable amount of order in his classroom and any corridors he was assigned to keep an eye on. Right now, he seemed to be...attempting to creep up on Lawrence? With a...pipe cleaner contraption? He was just considering saying something when Theo made himself known by beginning to attach the pipe cleaner to the Care of Magical Creatures professor.

He noticed Lawrence tense up, but didn't think much of it - it would have been his own default response to something unexpectedly touching him, too, for no particular reason. He had never much liked being taken by surprise by other people in his personal space, and had always found it a bit odd that there were people who seemingly did. Even with his family, he liked to see them coming, so to speak. Theo, however, was harmless, and Gray couldn't help a half-smile, quickly hidden behind his drink, as the other professor promised the thing - a flower, it seemed, made of pipe cleaner - a place of honor in his 'nest.'

He did chuckle a bit at Killian's statement. "You might have a paradoxical point," he agreed. "Though I'm not sure I'm allowed many colors besides blue and black - must show the old House pride. Good evening Theo," he added.

16 Grayson Wright I'll be an apple. I get soft spots over time. 113 0 5

Morgan Garrett

April 30, 2020 8:20 PM

I think so, yeah. by Morgan Garrett

After her ever-so-pleasant run-in with Leonor De Matteo, Morgan found she just wanted to get away from the whole scene of the crime. In an ideal world, she would have thrown a drink in Leonor's face and walked away dramatically, all the music stopping in acknowledgment, but there was only so much to hope for when one was wearing such very boring clothes as she was. Even her heavy bracelets and mass of fake pearls couldn't compensate enough for her dress to allow her to make a dramatic exit, so Nature allowed Leonor to walk off first.

Nevertheless, within a few minutes, Morgan did leave that table and go to look for better company, or at least an opportunity to ask Mara why she was friends with such a nasty hag. At first, the second option seemed like the more desirable idea, but as she got further from the incident in question, she started tending toward the first one instead, losing the annoyance that made speaking her mind so much easier than usual.

When she saw a girl - Anya, that was her name, she was in Morgan's classes, and was the girl who sat on her desk a lot - wearing a leotard and tights instead of a dress, though, she was surprised right out of thinking about her unfortunate run-in with the Pecari. When Anya beamed proudly at her, she was a little surprised, but then grinned back, taking this as an invitation.

"Hey. You look really cool," she said, as Anya's appearance was so distinctive that it would be kind of rude, she thought, not to comment on it. "Do you do gymnastics at home?" she asked, thinking in the back of her head that this would explain a lot of things.

16 Morgan Garrett I think so, yeah. 1470 0 5

Jeremy Mordue

April 30, 2020 9:02 PM

Ugh, why do you have to do that? by Jeremy Mordue

Nathaniel had not got slapped or engaged. Jeremy was caught off-guard by this comment, and had reacted before he had time to think about it. He laughed.

“Didn’t know you knew how to be funny,” he added, in more or less his usual tone, though perhaps with just a little less edge than usual. “Or are you deadly serious and I am not treating this situation with the gravity it deserves?” he added with a preemptive eyeroll. It was probably that. Or it had been purely by accident.

“Same, I suppose,” he shrugged, when Nathaniel asked about his date, half a smile playing on his face, though he wasn’t sure if they were allowed to laugh about this. Or whether he wanted to. Cos… well, when had he and Nathaniel ever acted like they were friends instead of just brothers, and why would they bother starting now? Nathaniel had barely ever acted like he was either anyway. He was too busy going off with Sylvia to have fun. The only thing he spared for Jeremy was constant criticism. “What do you talk to girls about anyway?” he asked, figuring that if Nathaniel was at least not in a horrible mood he may as well try to find out.

13 Jeremy Mordue Ugh, why do you have to do that? 1443 0 5

Dathan Fischer

April 30, 2020 9:06 PM

Testing the waters. by Dathan Fischer

Balls, at home, were things Dathan might hit with a bat, or might throw through a hoop, or might kick with his foot, or throw to someone else. They were not, however, big fancy dances.

He was, of course, familiar with the concept of a ball as a dance. While he lacked sisters and hadn't been all that close to his cousins growing up (would, he wondered, that have been different if they had always known he and Jezebel and apparently Jezebel's brother Augustine had magic?), but it was impossible to exist in what he still thought of as the normal world and not have some low-level awareness of the plot of Cinderella. In it, the blonde princess with the sparkly blue dress went to a ball for a while, then lost her shoe. There was magic and pumpkins, but the big thing was that the party was a dance party where everyone dressed like dolls and called it a ball. There was also the colloquial expression 'having a ball', which made little sense to Dathan if it referred to the Cinderella thing - that didn't look like much fun, but the expression definitely meant that something was supposed to be a lot of fun.

Now, he supposed, he would get to find out for himself, because one of the weird things about wizard school was, apparently, having a literal ball every few years. He had been momentarily confused by the idea of dress robes - robes were not a dress, even if they did kinda, on a bad day, look like those maxidress things - before realizing it didn't mean 'dress' in the sense of 'girls' dress', but in the sense of 'fancy occasion clothes,' like one could have dress shoes.

Dathan had dress shoes on tonight, along with sort of maroon dress robes, both because that was one of Teppenpaw's colors and because it was kind of fun to wear something even remotely close to the red family without worrying about looking like a bad Christmas advertisement. On the whole, he thought he was glad that he wouldn't have to dress like this every day - green was definitely an easier head-to-toe color to pull off than any shade in the red family, he thought - but for the special occasion, it was kind of fun. Unlike watching the prefects dance. He mostly stared at that, partially baffled by the fact that no few of them actually appeared to know the steps, and also at one point startled to see one of his House prefects waltzing with another dude.

Other than that, though, the prefect dance offered little of interest, so when it was over, Dathan went to examine the buffet.

This proved more entertaining than watching dancing, at least until Professor Skies got ready to announce who had won the House Cup. Dathan was still not sure he understood the points system exactly - one teacher might give points for something another didn't, Teppenpaw prefects seemed nice but what if one of the other Houses tried to settle personal vendettas that way? And on it went - but he knew that Teppenpaw had been doing well lately, and might win. He waited with his fingers crossed in his lap as fourth and third were covered, and then -

"Yes," he cheered quietly to himself, though he knew he personally was far from the greatest contributor to their victory.

He looked at the jukebox token, which looked more or less like what he would expect, and at the jukebox itself, which...well, it was certainly jukebox-shaped, and had what looked like bands and song titles to pick from, but nothing his eye immediately fell on in the selections looked familiar. He stepped back from the box to allow someone who looked more confident to approach and caught the eye of another student.

"Do you know any really good wizard bands?" he asked hopefully.

16 Dathan Fischer Testing the waters. 1457 0 5

Topaz Brockert

April 30, 2020 9:16 PM

My author is kind of excited about ends right now by Topaz Brockert

"Poisons." Topaz stated. She was certainly not about to open up to this girl about her experiments. Not because the Aladren cared what she thought but because, well, one did not let potential lab rats know that they were potential lab rats and she might want to experiment on the first year in the future. Plus, Topaz was sure her experiments were beyond this girl's intellectual capabilities.

Besides, telling people you were into poisons tended to creep them out and if the firstie decided to vacate the conversation, the Aladren would not be too despondent. Anyway, it sort of a test to determine what sort of person this girl was. If the first year ran away with her tail-and giving her a literal tail might be fun- between her legs, that would make her...well, cowardly maybe but that would be the sort of reaction most people would have. If she launched into some big self-righteous lecture the way Snotti-Ness surely would, well then that would make her the perfect person to test one the fourth year's concoctions, which were generally not lethal to humans,on.

Actually, come to think of it, Topaz wished she had brought something with her tonight. Spiking the punch with something that would have sent people running to the bathroom would have livened things up considerably.

She raised her eyebrows. Honestly, she couldn't argue with the first year's opinion about the boys here. "Get used to it." Topaz told her bluntly. "Because those are the options you are going to have in life. "Even outside of Sonora, she rarely met any boy she found interesting. The worst ones were the ones who were into sports because that was the most uninteresting subject on the planet, but even the ones who did not like sports were not especially compelling people.

Topaz stopped just short of saying something about the first year being Felipe's sister when Leonor introduced herself. Now, the Aladren certainly didn't care about the younger girl's feelings in general but she personally hated when someone mentioned her being so and so's sister or cousin. Topaz was superior to her siblings and cousins and hated to be merely lumped in as one of them. "Pleasure to meet you." The Aladren replied. Because it was what she'd been taught and it was habit, not because she actually meant it.

11 Topaz Brockert My author is kind of excited about ends right now 1427 0 5

Dorian Montoir

April 30, 2020 9:18 PM

Let's party! by Dorian Montoir

Dorian’s evening was getting better and better as it went on. He’d talked to Ruby, and found out he had another ally. He’d found time for a quick ‘hello’ to Professor Brooding, and he’d continued to let the rest of the world flow in and out of the happy little bubble he occupied with Jean-Loup. There was time for anyone who wanted it, but there was that untouchable world of the two of them whenever he wanted it.

They’d just finished another dance when Professor Skies took to the stage to announce the house cup winners. It did not feel particularly important, as he planned to dance with his boyfriend and his friends for the rest of the night anyway, but it was the icing on the cake to hear Teppenpaw called out.

As the cup got to him, he took out a token. Happy songs of love and positivity swirled through his mind as he made his way over to the jukebox. Jean-Loup seemed to be hanging back, letting him have his moment with his housemates, but Dorian would be sure to pull him in, and Tatya too. The friendly house celebrated with everyone. He did, however, have an idea that he needed his housemates for.

“Who wants to put our concert songs on?” he suggested, looking for four more volunteers who could help him make that happen. The things they’d performed at the previous year’s concert were all perfect, inspiring, happy songs - and a few of the assembled Teppenpaws probably had some pretty good dance moves to go with them. He had picked up a few, even from backstage. Waltzing in the arms of your boyfriend was perfect and romantic. But he thought this night might be about to get a different kind of fun.

13 Dorian Montoir Let's party! 1401 0 5

Leonor De Matteo

April 30, 2020 9:37 PM

How very meta of you. by Leonor De Matteo

Leonor raised her eyebrows, clearly interested. "Poisons, eh?" she confirmed. It wasn't an area of magic she was particularly interested in studying, but it struck her as unique enough that Topaz Brockert would at least be interesting to talk to on the whole. She wondered whether they were the sort of poisons people use to get rid of pests and unwanted plants, or unwanted people. "We don't cover many of those in potions. Independent study?" she asked, either as a euphemism or not.

She frowned at the prospect of husband finding with boys like this to choose from. Perhaps one day she'd find someone moderately interesting, but so far Felipe seemed like the least awful of the boys at school and he was her brother and also still awful. He was just so . . He tried so hard. It was like he really believed all this stuff about altruism and helping people and didn't just want to do it because it was what he was told do. Sure, Leonor thought it was good to help people too. But she was doing this thing because she wanted the power and the job and the autonomy. She hadn't realized just how much of the first and last of those things she was giving up for the middle one. Maybe the two lady professors who were together were on to something. Women had to be at least a little less insufferable, right? Maybe not if Morgan was an option.

"Where do you live when you're not at Sonora?" Leonor asked, figuring small talk with someone who wasn't boring was better than deep talk with someone who was.

22 Leonor De Matteo How very meta of you. 1471 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

April 30, 2020 9:40 PM

Sorry, bad habit. by Nathaniel Mordue

Surprise flickered in Nathaniel's green eyes for a moment when Jeremy actually laughed at the quip about how his evening was going, followed quickly by a half-smile. This was accompanied by an odd warm feeling in his chest; it took him a moment to recognize it as a kind of happiness.

He had made a joke, and his brother had laughed - properly, even, not unpleasantly. For a moment, at least, Nathaniel had forgotten that Jeremy was someone he had a duty to look after and a lot of things to worry about with, and Jeremy seemed to have forgotten to at least act as though he more or less despised Nathaniel. It wasn't the first time in their lives it had happened or anything - there had been good moments, here and there, in the past, little pauses in the inexorable process of their family's collapse - but it had been a long time...

"No," said Nathaniel when Jeremy asked if he had missed the deadly seriousness of the situation, ignoring the eye roll, as it was, he had to admit, kind of fair. "I know how to be funny. I think. It's top secret, though, I don't tell just anybody."

This was rubbish. Nathaniel highly doubted he could be funny on any kind of consistent basis. He had never exactly been renowned for his wit. Sylvia was the witty one - Nathaniel was fairly sure he was almost as dull as Simon, most of the time, when all his energies weren't focused on worrying about something instead. As far as b.s. spun by members of their family went, though, he thought he was still far from the worst, and so he indulged himself.

And - had Jeremy just asked him for advice? Of his own accord?

"I don't think you really do," he said, thinking about both Ivy and Sylvia. "They talk, you compliment them every now and then, or ask something about the last thing they said. At least, that's what I've been doing with Ivy tonight. She's planning to learn to be a journalist, then get married instead of being one," he added, still a bit bemused by that. It seemed such an awful lot of effort to no real end. "I...think I asked if she wanted a drink, and toasted to her finishing school. After that she did most of the talking, and, well, like I said. Not slapped, not married." He thought for a moment. "Miss Priory's in your year, right? I guess classes are an option for you there, then, though, er, there's less to say about them than usual at this event, I suppose," he admitted.

16 Nathaniel Mordue Sorry, bad habit. 1412 0 5

Caitlin Pierce

April 30, 2020 9:47 PM

They shouldn't be allowed by Caitlin Pierce

CW-Homophobia

Caitlin smirked at what Sylvia said about the girl though she had not meant to that she was going to say something to her face, she meant that there was a dress code for these things and while people shouldn't pretend they were on the same level as Caitlin and Sylvia, they also should follow the rules. Honestly, the Crotalus would argue that a little social pressure would put the second year in her place as clearly, she just thought that she could do whatever she wanted and get away with it. And that sort should not be allowed to get away with things, as that made it seem like their behavior was being condoned.

And if their behavior was condoned, that was saying Caitlin and others like her were wrong for wanting to be proper and pretty and just for being the way they were. That being like that girl or like Nessa or like Lyssa was how someone was supposed to be. That people like the Crotalus were to be the ones ridiculed for being feminine or not subverting the status quo. That who they were as a person was wrong.

The problem with the second year girl was that people like that also clearly didn't care what others thought so they didn't learn their lesson through social intimidation. They thought themselves to be the better ones, to be someone special, as if rules did not apply to them. That went for Dorian too. Not just dancing with a boy-though that was obviously a problem-but bringing in a boy who didn't go to school here when others were not allowed outside dates. Rules were rules and they should be applied to everyone.

Caitlin nodded as Sylvia's comments about Jasmine and Head Student elections. The problem with Head Student was that it was voted for by students so if the make up of the fifth and sixth year classes didn't favor purebloods, neither would the results. "Once we graduate, we never have to see or interact with those people again." Caitlin replied.

"I suppose he's in right now." The fifth year said. "I mean, he's been dancing with Tatiana and he's still a Brockert. Even if it seems like nothing has changed, I mean, certainly one wouldn't expect to make some big dramatic scene. That would be unseemly and one would certainly expect him to maintain decorum." As opposed to the way others were behaving.

11 Caitlin Pierce They shouldn't be allowed 1415 0 5

Beau Tate

April 30, 2020 11:28 PM

It could be worse by Beau Tate

The ball was not one of Beau's favorite Midsummer events. The presence of non-society people made it less stuffy but it was still so much less interesting than the others. Dancing and dressing up in uncomfortable clothing and making polite small talk did not sound like a good time. It wasn't at home and it wouldn't be here and the balls at home usually involved alcohol and meeting people that Beau did not see day in and day out for the majority of the year, whether the people he met at those balls were interesting or not.

He was certain that his sister's wedding this summer was going to be a nightmare of uptightness and tedium. Beau could not decide whether or not to just stay away again until the date came like he had last summer or to stay around for the inevitable meltdowns that when things inevitably did not go to Arianna's very exacting standards.

And looking around him, the Pecari could see some things being worn that his sister would certainly throw a fit over if they happened at her upcoming nuptials. Beau was aware that there was to be a very strict dress code to the point where he'd had zero say over his own attire because, while he'd never really dressed inappropriately for an occasion, his sister very obviously did not trust his opinions on anything, in particular fashion. Never mind that Beau was clearly doing better than some people.

Anyway, he had decided to ask Caitlin Pierce to the ball for the night. The Pecari might not have but he was just chivalrous enough to not want to see her humiliated. Once the dance was over, she sent him off to get punch. Beau made his way to the punch bowl. "Are you having a nice evening?" He politely asked a person who was standing nearby as he ladled some out for himself and Caitlin.

11 Beau Tate It could be worse 1416 0 5

Vladimir Brockert

May 01, 2020 3:44 PM

I might be bumping them anyway by Vladimir Brockert

Much handsome. In a better headspace, Vlad would have been tickled by the compliment. He liked the way Tatiana talked. He thought it was really cool how her often literal and not-quite-right English (hopefully not dissimilarly from his own not-quite-right Russian) still got the point across even when it fell short in style or technique. The function of language was to convey ideas, and the fact that they could all convey so differently sort of said that at the end of the day, everyone was speaking the same language, really. At least, he thought so.

Unfortunately, he was not mentally open enough to fully process the statement. He moved on to her question. Did he want to dance? Well, no, really. He didn’t want to do anything. He didn’t want to be here. But that was an unfair and dramatic answer, so he just said, “Yeah, okay,” and led her to an open place on the dancefloor.

He held her at a comfortable distance - close enough for friends, not close enough to suggest anything else - and did his best to float. However, even though he wasn’t sure he really wanted to see, Vladimir couldn’t help but try to look through the crowd for Dorian and his… Jean-Loup. It wasn’t until he felt Tatiana’s foot beneath his that he realized just how distracted he was. “Sorry,” he offered sadly. “I guess I wasn’t watching where I…” he trailed off and sighed. “Have you seen Dorian?”

12 Vladimir Brockert I might be bumping them anyway 1400 0 5

Tatiana Vorontsova

May 01, 2020 7:14 PM

You certainly just bumped my foot. by Tatiana Vorontsova

Tatiana loved dancing. That was one of the relatively few ladylike things she could do which didn't involve sitting still, and could sometimes even involve real movement, even if often enough it did not. In such cases, it was traditional to pay some attention to one's partner, and Tatiana could understand how this could be boring with many partners. She, however, was not just any old partner, and she rapidly grew indignant as Vladya proceeded to more or less dance with her while paying her no attention at all.

She was on the brink of pointing this out to him when he stepped on her foot and she swore in a hiss of Russian instead.

"Dorya?" she said when he broke off mid-apology to ask if she had seen their friend. "How I not seen Dorya? Everyone in this room seen Dorya," she added, her brow creasing with anxiety. "After so much time of 'Tatya, all must be big secret, Mama must not know,' now it is all the room sees Dorya," she muttered. "Ya ne ponimaesh'." I don't understand. "Why? You think he have trouble?" she asked sharply, the thought connecting - his brother had been violent. Perhaps he thought others would be as well. If they were, Tatiana would curse them. She resisted the impulse to reach for her wand right then and there, before she was even sure she was going to need to publically work a curse on someone.

16 Tatiana Vorontsova You certainly just bumped my foot. 1396 0 5

Vladimir Brockert

May 02, 2020 9:31 AM

Maybe we should just start over. by Vladimir Brockert

Vlad cringed. Everyone in the room had seen Dorian? So then… yes, he had really done it. Vlad couldn’t help the rush of immediate validation in his late arrival. He was so, so glad he had missed it.

Tatiana also seemed pretty annoyed about it, although the Teppenpaw could only imagine her reasons were vastly different from his own. No, she seemed more put off by the reveal of it all. That was also fair; Dorian and his… Jean Loup were originally presented as something of a secret, but now it was decidedly on display for anyone to see.

And respond to, as Tatya suggested. Did he think Dorian was in trouble? That thought had not really crossed Vladimir’s mind, although he remembered that this being gay thing was something that some people apparently didn’t like. Some of them didn’t like it a lot. When he learned about Dorian, he did his research. He read books. The histories of hate and violence, and how very recent it all still was. Vlad didn’t want that for his best friend. And since learning some things about himself as well, the world just felt a little bit colder. The sixth year had always assumed everyone was his friend. But now maybe, if people knew…. Well, maybe that wasn’t so true anymore.

Vlad gave one more glance around. He didn’t see Dorian at the moment, but he also didn’t see a giant angry crowd clumping around anybody with torches and pitchforks, so he figured it was okay for now. “No, I don’t,” he answered. “I’m really sorry. I’m just…” he took a deep breath. “I don’t feel good about the whole Jean-Loup thing. It’s all just… it’s too much, you know? But I should be happy, because Dorian’s happy, and that’s what a good friend does. But I’m really, really, really not happy. I’m sorry I’m not making for great company tonight. We can just dance and I’ll stop looking for them and be a better friend to you too.” He didn’t want to be thinking about any of this, so he would just do his best not to. Tatiana deserved a fun evening, and he knew she liked dancing, so he had to be a better friend to at least one person here tonight.

12 Vladimir Brockert Maybe we should just start over. 1400 0 5

Jeremy Mordue

May 04, 2020 4:35 AM

I guess it's okay by Jeremy Mordue

“Okay,” Jeremy said a little flatly, as Nathaniel told him his sense of humour was tip-top-special-secret, just between them. Jeremy wasn’t freaking five years old, for Merlin’s sake. Still… Nathaniel could actually be intentionally funny. Who knew? “Don’t worry, I don’t think it’ll be too obvious to most people,” he joked back. Well, sort of. He’d meant to joke. Apparently though, it was harder to shift his tone from default hostile than he realised, because he just sounded snippy again.

“If you feel you have another one in you before Christmas, don’t hold back,” he advised, trying again.

“Well, that sounds fun,” Jeremy sighed, with an eye roll regarding Ivy’s life plans, demonstrating that - when given the opportunity - it wasn’t only Nathaniel he found deserving of the gesture. “You sound like you’re not planning on either of those. If you can help it,” he added, as Nathaniel once again mentioned both the lack of physical violence or matrimonial tangles involved in his evening. “I mean, with Ivy. She’s gonna go… study journalism for no real reason, and you’re…well, here. I mean, you’re probably kind of young for her, right?” he checked. “And Simon’s older than you, so he has to do it first,” he added, weighing up all the reasons. On the one hand it sort of annoyed him that who they might be allowed to date would be whittled down by who Simon dated. In a sense, it felt like getting his cast offs. But at the same time, it meant it was a while before Nathaniel had to think about it. Which was good. Because whilst being allowed to touch girls sounded fun, having to marry one definitely didn’t. He wasn’t sure how to bring that up with Nathaniel though, who was probably the opposite. Nathaniel probably thought that getting married was the right thing to do, and that Jeremy was in the wrong, as usual.

13 Jeremy Mordue I guess it's okay 1443 0 5

Nathaniel Mordue

May 04, 2020 9:27 AM

I'll work on it. by Nathaniel Mordue

"I'll see what I can come up with," said Nathaniel, continuing to react to just what Jeremy said rather than trying to analyze how he said it. Maybe his voice was just that way or something? Or maybe if Nathaniel just pretended not to notice his brother's tone, maybe Jeremy would eventually just...be all right?

This, he knew, was the approach Dr. Greene would advise. She said that part of the reason he had gotten sick was because he tried too hard to control everything and everyone around him, and that he had just broken down when it had become impossible to do so anymore. She also said that Jeremy, at least, might like him better if he wasn't always acting as though it was his job to correct Jeremy's faults - if he presented himself more as a brother than as an inadequate father figure. The 'inadequate' bit, of course, was not something she had spelled out, but he knew it was supposed to be there. He had tried, but....

No matter; he had other issues to think of. Such as how he could go about obtaining a joke book. He had never had much of a sense of humor, that he'd noticed, so formal study would be necessary. He thought he could pull off bitter sarcasm pretty regularly on his own, if he tried, but that wasn't really what he was going for.

"Hm. Well, there is that," he agreed to Jeremy's assessments. "Not that I mind. I..." His mouth twisted slightly. "I don't much like the idea, to tell you the truth. Marriage. That's why the not getting engaged part was a good thing. I mean, if I must I must, you know that, I'll do what needs to be done, but I'm not exactly sorry that I probably won't for years, anyway." He looked at Jeremy again, almost warily. "Do you...expect anything with Miss Priory?" he asked cautiously, aware he was now wandering into strange territory. The last thing he would have imagined Jeremy doing was wanting a wife, but then, twenty minutes ago, he would have assumed that Jeremy disliked him too much to have this long of a civil, if slightly mutually awkward, conversation with him.

16 Nathaniel Mordue I'll work on it. 1412 0 5

Tatiana Vorontsova

May 04, 2020 10:03 AM

If we can. by Tatiana Vorontsova

Tatiana listened closely to all the stuff Vladya was saying. Dorian was not in trouble, as far as he could tell...but he was not happy. Because of Jean-Loup, even though Jean-Loup was a reason why Dorian was happy, if to the point of foolishness....

"I worry about Dorya too," she said. "I worry - maybe Matthieu knock something wrong in his head. He is not good all year, not since we come back from holiday - and now...." She shook her head. "I know not. But nothing is to do now," she said helplessly.

She hated that. She hated that as much as the thought of sending Dorian back to his family, knowing he was too - too - too Dorya to raise his wand even to save himself from that brute he was forced to live with, and that he might try to disown her, too, if she did it for him - though since he had eventually taken Jean-Loup back, and she had a far senior claim on his affection, she thought she might just take her chances, if she ever got a chance to hex Matthieu seven or eight times in rapid succession. It was, however, still true. What could they do right now, really? What was done was done.

“We do not have to dance, if you not want,” she said. “All is no good. Why world so stupid, Vladya? I do not like it,” she added crossly, in a tone which suggested that her displeasure alone should have been a good reason for it to change into some more pleasing shape.

16 Tatiana Vorontsova If we can. 1396 0 5

Ness McLeod

May 14, 2020 7:56 AM

Well... It's herbivorous and... um... has pockets? by Ness McLeod

Ness took the jacket, reaching into the side of the little red dress.

“It has pockets,” the fourth year informed Lyssa, doing the little hand flap required to demonstrate. Ness had not owned enough pocketless garments to really be surprised or find their presence a novelty but was aware enough of dress-wearing behaviour and of the sexist history of pockets to know that it was a rule to do this.

The pockets, in this case, were being used to hold Ness’ wand, which the Aladren now retrieved, casting a cooling charm on Lyssa’s jacket and handing it back.

Lyssa was up for grinding the souls of chauvinists into coffee too. They could have soul coffee and talk about the sexist history of the pocket, and that sounded like a basically ideal…. Situation. Date? Should Ness suggest a soul-coffee-and-pocket-sexism based date? It sounded awesome. Especially as Ness had just a compliment. Valkyrie and sports star! And a wink!

Before Ness could quite get the courage up though, Lyssa had asked something else. Something which made Ness instantly add several more points to Lyssa’s Tally of Awesomeness but also left the Aladren floundering somewhat.

“I generally use ‘I’ because I have the advantage of getting to talk about myself in the first person,” Ness answered, also chancing a wink. Because… pronoun humour. That was pretty awesome.

Outside of that, it was going to get sort of complicated. At home, there was a tendency towards default ‘they’ unless corrected, or just mixing they/assumed pronouns. That was at home home as in inside the house. Obviously as proper events they all had to be very pronoun clear and decisive. Except Ness was never the one giving a speech or having to introduce or be introduced. Stickers declaring your preferences were optional. It was easy to slide through the gaps and be… fluid. People would use ‘they’ a lot because they weren’t sure. It didn’t feel like a bold statement to just accept it. Whereas at Sonora, it would have been a statement to insist on it. Ness had been trying to play 217 during their DnD games without any use of pronouns. It was pretty challenging, but it was a fun sort of challenge. Gary tended to avoid pronouning Ness in general, even though it led to some weird sentence crashes. There were probably plenty of people who defaulted to ‘she.’ There might have been some confused Purebloods who were using ‘he.’

“I get a mixed bag,” Ness shrugged, feeling that was maybe not enough of an answer. Because Lyssa was really asking what Ness wanted, not what other people did. “I’ve never been a very decisive person, so that’s always been kind of fine with me,” the Aladren shrugged, hoping the total non-answer was okay. It wasn’t many things that Ness preferred to be fuzzy and uncertain, and so in that sense, it was deeply dissatisfying. But it was also how it was.

13 Ness McLeod Well... It's herbivorous and... um... has pockets? 1419 0 5

Lyssa Fitzgerald

May 14, 2020 8:29 PM

I'm enjoying this flirtatious Ness by Lyssa Fitzgerald

Pockets? And a good looking? That was quite the dress. Though it may have been the person in it that made it all that and a kettle of fish. Ness pulled out their wand and cast a spell on Lyssa’s jacket handing it back. It was… cooler.

“Now that is a helpful spell. Portable AC. Thank you Drinker of Chauvinists. I wore this outfit in part because of the pockets. I also really like the school robes for the same reason, though now I am going to learn that spell and cast it on em.”

Lyssa gave a little snort. “Of course you do. Clever that one,” she said as blushed slightly at Ness' wink.

Then Ness stated that they were an indecisive person and Lyssa was confused. Ness seemed like an extremely decisive person. They knew who they were more than most people at the school. They cared little for what others thought of them and seemed to hold an odd sort of power because of that. She had been decisive when she just walked up to Ness, fully starting the conversation. Still, Ness had no real answer was in Ness’s answer.

“Hrmm, is it ok if I use they/them then?” Lyssa asked. She didn’t want to, you know assume it was ok. “You know, when I’m not using “Hey You” “That One” or “Soul Drinking Valkyrie”? I’d use I, but I think others might get a wee bit confused.”

Yes. She was definitely flirting. She liked this. Why hadn’t she done it before. It was much more fun than debating or writing letters into magazines and newspapers. Actually, that was not true. It was different from those things, but also fun.

41 Lyssa Fitzgerald I'm enjoying this flirtatious Ness 1421 0 5