Fandom Octowizard Tournament // wizarding world // RP thread

[irregular-neptune]

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  hopeful, excited

  
  
  
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  the dance floor, by Jae-Hui

  
  
  

At Rotimi’s question, Dakota hesitated, unsure how to answer (she’d never been confused as an American before and, although she wasn’t offended, didn’t want to embarrass the boy with her correction). She’d like to think that if she were to try she could do a convincing American accent, but she also didn’t want to leave him uncorrected only for him to later be even further embarrassed when he found out that she wasn’t (not that she thought it was a big deal, but embarrassment is a curse that she’s lived with most of her life and she understood its oppressive and all consuming nature). So, she chuckled. “Actually, I’m from England, but I have visited America a few times and I’d like to think I could pick up the accent.”


As he struggled over his words, she almost didn’t even notice as, though her dancing wasn’t perfect, the two of them did a fairly good job of keeping up with each other and, having never really gone to a big ball (the Yule ball didn’t count, and besides she almost never danced at it), she was most captivated by the large floor and the giant band. It was, however, unnerving that they were really the only ones dancing. It felt almost like being a fish in an aquarium, especially with all of their bright colored clothing and the best dancers gliding across the floor as if through water as the audience peered over at them from the tiered floor above.


“Honestly, it’s all been a little overwhelming, but I’m having fun!” she said as their dance ended, and they began to part. She waved at him, smiling as they went off to find their next dance partners, hoping they’d have time to talk again some other time (she wanted to know all about the potential competition, yes, but she was also fascinated by other wizarding cultures and where better to learn than from the source directly?)


She glanced down at her dance card. Jae-Hui. She remembered seeing him enter and looked around the dance floor, teetering on her heels to look over a couple of the taller boys until she saw him finishing up his dance with Vikae, one of the other Hogwarts potential champions. She offered her a smile and a wave as they finished their parting remarks and approached the Korean boy. “How are you? Jae-Hui, right?" she said, the name sounding foreign on her tongue as she hoped she pronounced it correctly. "I’m Dakota, it looks like I’m your next dancing partner.” She offered him her hand as the music began, almost surprised at her unusual social prowess. It was surely short-lived, but as long as she could get through the night pretending to be a social master, she would feel accomplished.

dakota

secondary

Jae-Hui

Jannah

♡coded by uxie♡

Spoiler: dakota mobile friendly

dakota

mood: hopeful, excited | location: the dance floor, by Jae-Hui | outfit: 1 2 3 | mentions: Jannah

At Rotimi’s question, Dakota hesitated, unsure how to answer (she’d never been confused as an American before and, although she wasn’t offended, didn’t want to embarrass the boy with her correction). She’d like to think that if she were to try she could do a convincing American accent, but she also didn’t want to leave him uncorrected only for him to later be even further embarrassed when he found out that she wasn’t (not that she thought it was a big deal, but embarrassment is a curse that she’s lived with most of her life and she understood its oppressive and all consuming nature). So, she chuckled. “Actually, I’m from England, but I have visited America a few times and I’d like to think I could pick up the accent.”



As he struggled over his words, she almost didn’t even notice as, though her dancing wasn’t perfect, the two of them did a fairly good job of keeping up with each other and, having never really gone to a big ball (the Yule ball didn’t count, and besides she almost never danced at it), she was most captivated by the large floor and the giant band. It was, however, unnerving that they were really the only ones dancing. It felt almost like being a fish in an aquarium, especially with all of their bright colored clothing and the best dancers gliding across the floor as if through water as the audience peered over at them from the tiered floor above.



“Honestly, it’s all been a little overwhelming, but I’m having fun!” she said as their dance ended, and they began to part. She waved at him, smiling as they went off to find their next dance partners, hoping they’d have time to talk again some other time (she wanted to know all about the potential competition, yes, but she was also fascinated by other wizarding cultures and where better to learn than from the source directly?)



She glanced down at her dance card. Jae-Hui. She remembered seeing him enter and looked around the dance floor, teetering on her heels to look over a couple of the taller boys until she saw him finishing up his dance with Vikae, one of the other Hogwarts potential champions. She offered her a smile and a wave as they finished their parting remarks and approached the Korean boy. “How are you? Jae-Hui, right?" she said, the name sounding foreign on her tongue as she hoped she pronounced it correctly. "I’m Dakota, it looks like I’m your next dancing partner.” She offered him her hand as the music began, almost surprised at her unusual social prowess. It was surely short-lived, but as long as she could get through the night pretending to be a social master, she would feel accomplished.

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  curious, nervous

  
  
  
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  by Vikae/on the dance floor

  
  
  

“Right, Zeena,” he said. “I like that.”


He allowed her to usher him to the dance floor as they began the first dance of the night, a fact which seemed to distract Lis from talking as he was focusing on the dance itself and not stepping on his partner’s toes. He wasn’t a stranger to all this formality, but he had never quite gotten graceful with his dancing. Passable at best, maybe, but often the dance floor was a cacophony of sensory experiences that were too much for him, something he tended to avoid.

Somehow, he kept finding himself in these situations, where he knew his boundaries but still had to allow them to be crossed in order to please his parents. A dance floor was just a dance floor and shouldn’t be a big deal, but the high-pitched stringed instruments were grating on his ears and his nerves. He was grateful that the Storhall was lit only by candlelight, the relative dim and dull castle walls a welcome change from his parents’ usual bright white ball rooms with searing lights that allowed each and every detail to brand his vision, often leaving him with headaches after such affairs.


Realizing his silence, he cleared his throat. “How was your trip here? Uneventful, I hope?”


He hoped he didn’t bore her and vowed to multi-task better with his next dancing partner. After all, he was sure that this… dance card thing was for socialization and the ability to size up the future competition, and he wasn’t eager to seem like an underdog before the competition even began (though he silently prayed that would be a non-issue and one of his fellow students would be the champion instead, but a one in three chance wasn’t enough for him to ignore the possibility).


As the song ended, he offered Zeena a smile and bowed to her again. “Enjoy the rest of the ball.”


Then he parted ways with her, glancing at his dance card for a few moments before being approached by who he could only assume was Esfir Nikolaeva, his next dance partner. She was taller than his previous dance partner and her eyes were striking. Trying to not be intimidated (height was usually not an intimidation to him, he was used to looking at the world from the perspective of an ant, but certain people carried their height and truly, themselves, in such a way that it became intimidating), he nodded at her question. “Yes, that is me. Esfir, I presume?”


He once again bowed and offered his hand to her. As they begun their dance, he wracked his brain for some small talk, a skill he once had down at least somewhat but had grown rusty over the last year as he pulled away from his parents. He knew he would need to pull it out again, as being at least surface level tolerant of the competition was necessary to stay afloat. After all, competitions like this were both a matter of popularity and skill, he was certain.

“You are from Koldovstoretz, correct? That’s not too far away from here, is it? Is it very different here?”


He knew most schools were about the same, ultimately, but Durmstrang was quite different from his own school and he was curious whether the Russian school was as drab and cold as this one or if it was different in its own way.

lisandro

champion

Vikae

Jannah

♡coded by uxie♡

Spoiler: lis mobile friendly

lis

mood: curious, nervous | location: by Vikae | outfit: 1 2 | mentions: Jannah

“Right, Zeena,” he said. “I like that.”



He allowed her to usher him to the dance floor as they began the first dance of the night, a fact which seemed to distract Lis from talking as he was focusing on the dance itself and not stepping on his partner’s toes. He wasn’t a stranger to all this formality, but he had never quite gotten graceful with his dancing. Passable at best, maybe, but often the dance floor was a cacophony of sensory experiences that were too much for him, something he tended to avoid.



Somehow, he kept finding himself in these situations, where he knew his boundaries but still had to allow them to be crossed in order to please his parents. A dance floor was just a dance floor and shouldn’t be a big deal, but the high-pitched stringed instruments were grating on his ears and his nerves. He was grateful that the Storhall was lit only by candlelight, the relative dim and dull castle walls a welcome change from his parents’ usual bright white ball rooms with searing lights that allowed each and every detail to brand his vision, often leaving him with headaches after such affairs.



Realizing his silence, he cleared his throat. “How was your trip here? Uneventful, I hope?”



He hoped he didn’t bore her and vowed to multi-task better with his next dancing partner. After all, he was sure that this… dance card thing was for socialization and the ability to size up the future competition, and he wasn’t eager to seem like an underdog before the competition even began (though he silently prayed that would be a non-issue and one of his fellow students would be the champion instead, but a one in three chance wasn’t enough for him to ignore the possibility).



As the song ended, he offered Zeena a smile and bowed to her again. “Enjoy the rest of the ball.”



Then he parted ways with her, glancing at his dance card for a few moments before being approached by who he could only assume was Esfir Nikolaeva, his next dance partner. She was taller than his previous dance partner and her eyes were striking. Trying to not be intimidated (height was usually not an intimidation to him, he was used to looking at the world from the perspective of an ant, but certain people carried their height and truly, themselves, in such a way that it became intimidating), he nodded at her question. “Yes, that is me. Esfir, I presume?”



He once again bowed and offered his hand to her. As they begun their dance, he wracked his brain for some small talk, a skill he once had down at least somewhat but had grown rusty over the last year as he pulled away from his parents. He knew he would need to pull it out again, as being at least surface level tolerant of the competition was necessary to stay afloat. After all, competitions like this were both a matter of popularity and skill, he was certain.

“You are from Koldovstoretz, correct? That’s not too far away from here, is it? Is it very different here?”


He knew most schools were about the same, ultimately, but Durmstrang was quite different from his own school and he was curious whether the Russian school was as drab and cold as this one or if it was different in its own way.

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  observant

  
  
  
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  by the refreshments table

  
  
  

Kaz had been a little out of practice, as his ball dancing days had been long ago, but he managed to not step on the young girl’s feet, which was a godsend because he distinctly remembered many a time where he’d probably bruised his dancing partner with his lack of grace. The years must have been courteous to him, he thought as he maneuvered them somewhat gracefully around the other students.


He nodded at her question. “Yes, I teach. Transfiguration,” he laughed a little at the irony, as he could tell this student was seemingly well versed in it (likely a metamorphmagus, at the way she had so quickly changed her appearance earlier, and how her hair had changed in a moment of stress, likely with her emotions). “I am from Koldovstoretz. Professor Vinogradov.”



“You are from America, yes?” he inquired as they continued their dance, making his best judgement from her accent (though the British and American dialects were so similar to him, it was sometimes hard to tell). He had never travelled very far out of Russia, much less to England or even America, so he didn’t hear the accent very often, but he had encountered a few English speakers in his days. Enough to pick it up some, though perhaps his English wasn’t fluent, he could definitely keep up. He was just always hyper aware of his thick accent when he spoke it.


As the music slowed, their dance ended and Kaz gave Gavy a bow, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, and good luck!”


He turned away from her and the dance floor as he went to maintain his post outside of it, keeping a watchful eye over the students and interacting some with the other professors (though tactfully avoiding the rather loud American professor). During the second and third dances, he hovered by the refreshment table, observing the lurkers who had no dance or were taking their time between dances, nodding at his students as he saw them and giving them an encouraging smile. The students he brought could hold their own, he knew, but he couldn’t help but worry about them sometimes, they always seemed caught up in troubles of their own and he just hoped that it wouldn’t affect their abilities in the competition… and that he himself could provide them the support they needed in order for their optimal success.

kaz

professor

Gavy

Sanctuaryforall1

♡coded by uxie♡

Spoiler: kaz mobile friendly

kaz

mood: observant | location: by the refreshments table| outfit: 1| mentions: @sanctuaryforall

Kaz had been a little out of practice, as his ball dancing days had been long ago, but he managed to not step on the young girl’s feet, which was a godsend because he distinctly remembered many a time where he’d probably bruised his dancing partner with his lack of grace. The years must have been courteous to him, he thought as he maneuvered them somewhat gracefully around the other students.



He nodded at her question. “Yes, I teach. Transfiguration,” he laughed a little at the irony, as he could tell this student was seemingly well versed in it (likely a metamorphmagus, at the way she had so quickly changed her appearance earlier, and how her hair had changed in a moment of stress, likely with her emotions). “I am from Koldovstoretz. Professor Vinogradov.”



“You are from America, yes?” he inquired as they continued their dance, making his best judgement from her accent (though the British and American dialects were so similar to him, it was sometimes hard to tell). He had never travelled very far out of Russia, much less to England or even America, so he didn’t hear the accent very often, but he had encountered a few English speakers in his days. Enough to pick it up some, though perhaps his English wasn’t fluent, he could definitely keep up. He was just always hyper aware of his thick accent when he spoke it.



As the music slowed, their dance ended and Kaz gave Gavy a bow, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, and good luck!”



He turned away from her and the dance floor as he went to maintain his post outside of it, keeping a watchful eye over the students and interacting some with the other professors (though tactfully avoiding the rather loud American professor). During the second and third dances, he hovered by the refreshment table, observing the lurkers who had no dance or were taking their time between dances, nodding at his students as he saw them and giving them an encouraging smile. The students he brought could hold their own, he knew, but he couldn’t help but worry about them sometimes, they always seemed caught up in troubles of their own and he just hoped that it wouldn’t affect their abilities in the competition… and that he himself could provide them the support they needed in order for their optimal success.

 

[mysteryxio]

"I believe I'm starting to get the hang of this." The moves were easy enough to remember and Freyja was very helpful in guiding him. He'd focused so much on the moves that he nearly missed the conversation. "Oh a-yes, I am. And you're from Iceland?" He spoke in a semi nervous tone, trying his hardest to stop himself from looking at his feet and meet Freyja's eyes. He thought a moment about the girl she mentioned, the other Illvermorney student. The two never really interacted with each other before the tournament. "Honestly I've only seen a small portion of it but the places I have been to are rather nice. As for the school...well there's no other word for it other than magical, though I guess that's all the schools. I'd say that I've found every secret the school has but I seem to keep discovering more." Caelum seemed to at least be able to speak in a normal tone as the conversation went on.

"The idea of fighting dragons is appealing but I'd also settle for just getting to explore a little." When Freyja mentioned being chosen, he was glad she didn't ask if he was hoping to be chosen as well. "From the sidelines or the battlefield, I believe that we should always give it our all. Sorry it's something that a friend of mine at school says. Hey what if when we're at each other's schools we meet up and show the other around and if we also make friends we can add them too." Caelum had hopes that this idea might let him see more of the schools than what the teachers showed. As the music started to slow, Caelum stepped back from Freyja. "I appreciate you teaching me how to dance...and thank you for the lovely time." He bowed again, his voice somehow back to it's nervous state. He turned and read who his next dance partner was...Gavy. He raised an eyebrow in surprise over the information.


AJ took the flask from Einbar, letting the man finish his introduction. "Well it's nice to meet a History of Magic teacher who isn't a ghost or dull enough to put people to sleep." AJ smiled at the thought of Pr. Binns. He hated going to his classes since he had trouble staying awake all the time. That was one aspect of being a student he didn't miss. He lifted the flask up to make a toast. "To youth and new bonds that will be forged here." He took a sip of the liquid and coughed as he swallowed reacting to the flavor. "That's uh...that's got a kick to it." He coughed again but was able to get control of his breathe then cleared his throat. He had to admit that he did feel warmer from the drink which he was thankful for. He handed the flask to Einbar.

"Happy to share them. I've been all over, studying creatures of all kinds but I have no idea where I could start." AJ had seen so many wonderous things in his travels, the type of events that couldn't be captured in books no matter how well the account is written or how detailed the picture. "Truth is not every place I've seen has the same adventure. Each place I go to sometimes the hardest thing to do is to just adapt to the new climate then forage for food, since you're pretty much out of rations." There was more to the story but he didn't really feel as if he should go into too much detail with what happened next. "What about you, someone who'd lived here for so long must have epic stories to tell." He tried to coax the Pr. into telling some story.

While they were talking he noticed that a teacher seemed to be dancing with one of the Champions. "Einbar, does that usually happen here?" He pointed to the people on the dance floor, the Pr. who was sharing a moment with one of the champions as he turned away.

 

[Jannah]

It was time to make friends or, at the very least, acquaintances. As Vikae accepted his offer to dance, Jae-Hui smiled. That had been easy enough, although it wasn't like she had had an actual choice in the matter. Neither of them did. They were to represent their schools in a warm and professional manner and it wasn't like the Korean had needed any lessons in that at all. He knew what was expected of him and it took him back to images of his over-bearing father outright demanding that he take his place in the tournament. Sitting it out and, ultimately failure, was simply not an option. The mere thought easily had him squirming.

Tonight, though, his father was distant as was his homeland. Tonight, he immediately focused on the young woman in front of him. She was beautiful; easy on the eyes, even. He had no doubts that there were certainly worse options for women to be paired with. It allowed him some ease in speaking to her as they approached the dance floor.

Like a perfectly rehearsed formula, he took her hand in his and made his way to the heart of the Storhall where each of the dances was just beginning. He nodded as the young woman spoke. "I have some familiarity with these dances. Attending social events like these is kind of obligatory back home." He had no idea of the young woman's blood status, but he assumed that if she was from a pureblood or upper class halfblood family then she would understand. Social events, balls, and all manner of events were practically ingrained into them from birth. It stood as especially true in families so desperate to retain their reputation of old.

As the dance began Jae-Hui began to move in tune with the music and the footsteps of his partner. Much to his relief she was confident and well-grounded, seemingly not missing a step at all. Fortunately, it was to spare them both potential embarrassment. It also allowed for relative ease of conversation, which the young woman attempted. "I am, yes. I grew up in Suwon, a city known for mixing the modern with the traditional. "This country, though, is...different. Much colder than I am accustomed to, admittedly." He responded, "I suppose it is safe to assume you are from Britain and I do hope it is warmer than here."

 

[Jannah]

Lisandro. He attempted to be friendly, but Zeena quickly began to pick up a hint of awkwardness from him as the exchange continued. It was a quirk, possibly irrelevant, that the young woman filed in the back of her mind for later. She knew that if she was to stand any chance in this tournament then she would have to study her competition carefully. This poor boy, though, was possibly out of his element entirely. He did not even seem particularly confident with his dance steps either, although the Ethiopian thought little of it. There was simply no way that the competition itself would simply rely on who was the most graceful on the dance floor. No, they were to be challenged both mentally and physically. That was a point each of the professors had been certain to emphasize to all seeking to sign up. Zeena, of course, being who she was had still basked in the opportunity.

As the first of the dances wrapped up Zeena smiled towards her partner. "Thank you for your time." She said upon offering a graceful curtsy. With that she took off into the crowds in search of her next partner. She glanced at the small card she had picked up on the way in, carefully reading the names upon it. One was familiar, Rotimi of Uagadou. "Oh hey, it's time to meet a complete stranger." She uttered with a chuckle as she search for his distinctive dark complexion among the crowds.

Rotimi was present, not difficult to miss at all among the more fairer skinned attendees. "Nice seeing you again." Zeena proceeded to greet him with the same manner of curtsy she had just offered Lisandro moments previous. "Are you nervous?" She teased, knowing that only one of them could ultimately gain the privilege of representing their school in the tournament. There was simply no Zeena and Rotimi, but rather only Zeena or Rotimi. Either way, the crowds would only be cheering on one of them over the course of the tournament. The young woman, naturally, wanted for it to be her.

 

[jrink]

It was a little embarrassing, just a little, when the other girl - Dakota - couldn't confirm Rotimi's assertion. Instead Dakota paused, looking a little hesitant and maybe even embarrassed for his sake as she corrected his error. Rotimi took it in stride as best he could with a chuckle and a murmured "and here I thought I was a man of culture". Though on the surface he hoped he appeared unbothered about the mistake, Rotimi could still feel burn of his ears, quick and fleeting as it was. From there, the conversation organically came to an end as the two of them said their good-byes and departed for their next partners. Rotimi let his feet carry him to the edge of floor, towards the refreshments. Selecting a cup of some unfamiliar, sweet-smelling substance from the table and taking a long sip of it - it was pleasing to the taste, though it had nothing on his preferred home-town drink, adoyo - Rotimi let his thoughts turn elsewhere, to that mistake earlier.

He hadn't exactly set foot in Britain since his childhood but he'd still thought distinguishing between a British and American accent would be an easy task. Would his next error be mixing up an Australian and British accent? In spite of himself, Rotimi felt his lips quirk up ever so slightly at the thought. Letting his eyes trace over his dance card as he pushed those thoughts away (it wouldn't do him any good to obsess after all), Rotimi took in the name of his next partner, an Anastasia. To his ears, the name was European - maybe an Eastern-European one? - though he couldn't quite match the exact school without further thought on his part. For now, Rotimi busied himself with trying to locate the girl. Had the name been announced closer to the end?

Letting his dark eyes trace over the floor in search of someone, anyone, who resembled the name and was by themselves, Rotimi's eyes paused on a platinum blonde (no, a much whiter then platinum) haired girl nearer to the floor's edge whose head appeared to be still buried deep within her card. That had to be this Anastasia, Rotimi resolutely decided from the dress alone - a light blue speckled with almost metallic silver hearts he faintly remembered seeing near the end. Making his way over to her side, Rotimi dipped his head a little bit in acknowledgment.

"Is your name Anastasia? If so, I believe I am your second - or first - partner, Rotimi."

 

[Viserion]

Vikae Akiza // 7th year // Hogwarts Champion // Pure-Blood // Animagus

Vikae smiled warmly at Jae-Hui, she felt for him in a way. He had traveled far across the world just to be in this tournament that his parents forced on him as well. When he spoke about his home she reminisced about her own. Not the one back in England. But her home in Sicily. She hadn’t lived there since she was a child but her family made frequent trips. Vikae then realized quite suddenly that she looked like she was daydreaming. (Which she was) She shook her head and laughed at Jae-Hui’s statement about the cold. “No Hogwarts is not as brutally cold as this, we get relatively pleasant summers and normally dry cold winters.” As the music began to slow signaling that their dance was over she removed her hands from her partner and stepped back. Her own sliding over her silver dress, smoothing any imperfections. “It was nice speaking with you Jae-Hui, I hope to see more of you”. With their parting, Vikae pulled her dance card from a concealed pocket within the folds of her gown. She scanned over the small square and read the name “Kasper.” She recognized him as he was the one called by the wrong name during the ceremony. Her gaze lifted from her card as her eyes flitted across the large room, looking for him. She did not need to look far as he appeared to be standing and waiting for her to be finished. Vikae tucked her card away and collected herself before walking over. A small polite smile was on her face as she nodded towards him. “Vikae Akiza, though you can call me V.” Vikae didn’t necessarily have an accent per se, but speaking her name or when her emotions ran high you could pick out the Sicilian accent. She held out a cold hand to shake, not entirely sure of what topic to speak of. Jae-Hui was easy enough, different than most. So she asked the first thing that popped into her mind, “Is it always this damn cold?”​

 

[Aviator]

Kasper Edelberg // Male // 7th Year // Durmstrang Champion // Half-Blood​

As she parted ways with her former dance partner, Vikae ran both slender hands down the liquid metal folds of her dress, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in a sleek material that looked as though it had been specifically designed never to wrinkle. Kasper’s gaze locked on the futile gesture. Could it be possible that some of the well-to-do kids who should have felt at home at such an extravagant ball were just as nervous as he? That was a strange thought. Durmstrang might have officially been his turf, but bedecked in opulence as it was for the evening—rainbow flames furling in each hearth, the dining tables vacated to make way for a dance floor—he barely recognized it. Combined with the easy sweep of entitlement with which most of the visiting students examined their surroundings, Kasper felt uncannily like a stranger in his own school. Like he had opened a book at random, or walked into a scene in the middle of a play without knowing what had happened before. Which, in a way he didn’t, since he had been invited to participate in the tournament a mere two days ago, when all of the other competitors had had a whole summer to prepare. And he still had no clue why Carina Eklund, the previous Durmstrang representative whose name had been erroneously called as his own, had suddenly withdrawn.
Moving with elegant, mincing steps, each punctuated by a sharp clack! of heel on tile, Vikae Akiza danced up to him. She was a pretty girl, with cascades of buttery blond hair that caught and reflected the flickering fuschia flame to her right. Her body was lean and lanky, the kind that Kasper would have expected to see on a long-distance runner, and in her shoes she was an inch or two taller than him. Why is it that the tallest girls always gravitate to the most ridiculously tall heels? he wondered, flummoxed. The logic there seemed counterintuitive to him, but whenever Kasper wanted something, he rarely let logic contort his feelings. Maybe the tall girls with even taller heels felt the same way.
Vikae spoke in a way that was like a rifle firing: sharp and clipped and dazzlingly quick, as if she fully intended to seize the moment and didn’t have time for anything that might hold her back. In a flurry of movement, she was standing before Kasper with her hand extended to shake, having already introduced herself almost too fast for him to keep up. He cocked a wary brow. Greeting with a handshake wasn’t uncommon in Norway, but in Kasper’s experience, the women who initiated them tended to be assertive and dominant. Not that there was anything wrong with assertive and dominant women, specifically. But people of that temperament regardless of gender tended to drain him quickly. Quelling the voice inside him that wanted to find something to suddenly occupy his hands with as to avoid the handshake, Kasper uncrossed his arms and reluctantly accepted Vikae’s hand with his gloved one. “Kasper Edelberg,” he intoned in a voice that sounded decidedly lame and washed out compared to Vikae’s more enthusiastic introduction.
He wasn’t sure whether to be slightly offended that she had assumed he spoke English, or thankful that he had been spared the awkward conversation of trying to find a compatible language, if there was one to be had. A twinge of fear shot through Kasper at the possibility that he might have to endure an entire dance in the uneasy silence enforced by a complete communication barrier. He pushed the thought aside. He would cross that bridge when he got there, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. It was true that Sweden and other components of Scandinavia had some of the most impressive rates of non-native English speakers, but still. Kasper wasn’t sure whether he liked the notion that a foreign guest expected him to know her language. Not that he could really hold it against her; except for his impromptu greeting of Genevieve in French, Kasper himself had been speaking English the entire evening.
Vikae’s forest-lake blue aura rippled around her, the same vivid hue as her eyes. She blinked at him mutely, and it dawned on Kasper that she had asked him a question. “Vad? Oh,” he stammered, as her words from moments ago finally registered in his mind. Stop being an idiot, Kasper. He swallowed against the flush of embarrassment threatening to creep up his neck. He had just parted his lips to answer when the conductor raised her arms over her head, brandishing her baton like a weapon, and the orchestra burst into sound. Colorful skirts and dark jackets spun around Kasper and his motionless partner. “Sorry!” he yelped before lunging forward and latching onto Vikae, his hands automatically coming to rest against her waist and palm. The two of them scrambled into the first steps of the dance. Kasper’s heart had skipped a beat, and it wasn’t until he recovered his bearings that he realized he had completed the whole opening sequence with minimal deliberation. Relief swelled inside him. He’d had a rough start to the night, true, but perhaps he wasn’t as hopeless a case as he thought at dancing. What with his natural aptitudes for Quidditch and ice hockey, he had always been quick to adapt to new physical challenges.
Aware of Vikae’s expectant gaze, Kasper remembered that he had a question still to answer. “Not to condescend, Miss V,” he began, trying to inject as much warmth as possible into his voice, “but as September progresses into the fall and winter months, Tromsøya Island is prone to much harsher weather. Actually, despite being inside the Arctic Circle, the island is considerably warmer than Canadian locations of the same latitude as well as Siberia—that’s slightly south of here. This is due to effects of the North Atlantic Drift, which pushes a lot of warm water our way and allows for fairly warm summers and tree growth. Those normally wouldn’t be possible for somewhere this far north.” He concluded with an awkward clearing of his throat, not having meant to lecture Vikae.
After all this time, the geography lessons he had learned in Muggle school were still deeply entrenched in him. World geography was something that had only ever been fleetingly glossed over at Durmstrang, and it amazed Kasper that he was knowledgeable in quite a few subjects that his more confident and magically-inclined peers were not. Not that any of those mundane subjects would help him much in a magical tournament, or could be practically applied to a future in the Wizarding World whatsoever.
A century ago, Durmstrang had enrolled strictly pureblood students, but as pureblood numbers were declining, they’d first been forced to open their doors to half-bloods, and then finally to Muggle-borns, but that development was not more than twenty years old. Still, from having had exposure to the magical world since birth and their high likelihood of coming from an old-money family rife with connections, Kasper felt that pureblood students had an advantage in every way over those with less impressive pedigrees. Even though international law said that all witches and wizards were supposedly equal. Equal, his ass. At Durmstrang, pureblood students tended to flock together, and when an outsider stepped onto their turf, they let him know in no uncertain terms. Naturally, the pureblood families in power had designed a legislative system that allowed them to flourish.
Rage that had nothing to do with Vikae blazed through Kasper like a flame along a fuse. It made him reckless, and on a whim he arced up an arm for Vikae to twirl beneath, then snapped her close to his chest. Kasper felt the warm pressure of his partner’s gaze lingering on him long afterward, as if shocked that he had exceeded her initial measurements. Whatever. He didn’t care what his fellow competitors or his audience thought of him. It wasn’t like dancing was a practical skill, even. The upcoming challenges of the tournament would separate the boys from the men. Suitable time had lapsed since Vikae had first inquired about the Tromsø climate, but for some reason, Kasper still found himself thinking about it. He knew it was wrong to make assumptions about strangers, and he knew she hadn’t intended to sound ungrateful, but some bitter, jealous part of him was simmering.
Except for his necessary residence in Norway for school—yet travel among the various Scandinavian countries was so commonplace that he wasn’t sure it counted—Kasper had never been abroad. Here Vikae was, receiving an all-expenses-paid trip to a popular tourist destination, and she didn’t even appreciate it. All throughout his childhood, Kasper and his father had been eating canned soup and frozen dinners. They would have killed for a vacation getaway, regardless of where. That being said, Kasper tried to keep an open mind. If Vikae preferred the idea of a tropical paradise, then who was he to tell her that she was wrong, especially when he’d never been to one? He acknowledged that Tromsø’s climate didn’t bother him mostly because he’d lived all his life in a similar one. Just as he acknowledged that only a matter of chance had kept him from having been born into Vikae’s kind of money and grown up with all her privileges. Perhaps Kasper would have turned out equally as insufferable as all the elitist snobs he resented, if the tables had been turned.
“While I understand that the boreal forest may not be to everyone’s liking,” he said gently, trying to rephrase his thoughts in a more optimistic light, “visitors often find that glimpses of the Northern Lights are worth it. Between November and January, Tromsø offers an optimal view. Personally, I’ve never been too into photography or art, but just from observing the winter Aurora, I can totally see how some people are. It really makes you realize how small you are, witnessing something so grand and beautiful on a universal scale.” While he’d been talking, gravity seemed to have tilted, and suddenly Kasper found Vikae and himself thrust into nearly the center of the ballroom. He glanced over at the couple on his left and recognized Esfir Nikolaeva. Kasper shot her a small, sheepish smile, dearly hoping that his deplorable dancing at the start of the evening wasn’t the subject of her current conversation.
He turned back to Vikae and her swimming aura of cobalt, her almond-shaped eyes and upturned nose. She was pretty. Really pretty. Kasper wouldn’t mind keeping her company in the future. “What with the sun being well above the horizon still, September isn’t an ideal month to view the Aurora, but the tournament isn’t supposed to shift to the next school until mid-October. By then the nights will be getting longer and it should be just starting to become visible. If you want, I could maybe, ohm, take you a short distance up one of the nearby mountains, where the view is, you know… really good.” Kasper stopped talking, unable to believe that he had just asked out a total stranger. What the hell was he thinking? His shabby clothes were evidence of his financial impediments, and Vikae would probably want nothing to do with pond scum like him. Before she could answer, he hastily changed the topic. “Soooo… do you do a lot of traveling? What other countries have you been to?”

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

Gavriel (Gavy)

Mood: Excited

Location: Durmstrang

Interactions: Professor Vinogradov irregular-neptune Caelum mysteryxio

Gavy was honestly in awe with how easily the professor she was dancing with was able to glide across the ballroom floor. Her fears of falling for real vanished almost instantly with each step they took. She was more than happy to let him lead as he seemed to have far more experience navigating a dance floor than she did. She never would have guessed how little practice the older gentleman truly had in the art of ballroom dancing, but then again, so long as they weren’t stepping on each other or hitting the ground it was a masterpiece in her eyes.

“I love Transfiguration!” She admitted with a bright smile painted upon her lips. “I…am sort of a natural with it.” She added, a hint of playfulness laced into her tone as she figured he probably saw her fall earlier and had likely figured out she was in fact a metamorphmagus. It wouldn’t be surprising if he had because while they are incredibly rare, a metamorphmagus who changes in front of an entire hall full of people is likely to be noticed and figured out.

Listening to Professor Vinogradov introduce himself and announce where he was from was interesting as Gavy wondered if she would ever be capable of pronouncing his last name. “Uhhhh, would Professor V be an okay thing to call you?” She asked looking slightly embarrassed, her eyes turning a soft pink color as she looked ashamed for asking the question. “I just don’t want to be rude and say your last name wrong. Like…I don’t want it to come across as me trying to make fun of your culture or anything like that.” She admitted after a minute. She had a habit of being truly open and honest with people no matter their rank or status so she figured it wouldn’t hurt to be honest with him as well.

“Yeah, I’m from North Carolina to be exact. I spend half my time in the states and half my time in France though.” The young platinum blonde explained as they continued to dance. Honestly, Gavy and her sister Anna went wherever their dad was. If he had work in America then they stayed at the home he had purchased there after rescuing them several years ago. But if his work took him back to his home country of France you had better bet that he was going to be taking his girls with him. He had lost them once and regretted it every day, especially after all Gavy was forced to endure when in the care of their maternal grandparents, there was no way in hell he would leave them behind ever again. Because of her father Gavy had been able to see far more of the world than she ever thought she would back when she was a small child locked away in a basement. Now she was bilingual, she had a family that was happy, she had been to several new countries, and her gifts were embraced and celebrated by the people she loved. It was amazing how life could change so drastically.

The rest of the dance passed with simple small talk and surprising grace and as the music began to slow Gavy pulled away from the Koldovstoretz professor and gave a playful curtsy. “Thank you for the dance Professor V.” She thanked him with a wave as she began to depart to find her first real matchup of the night. Looking at her dance card Gavy recognized the name scribbled upon it and smiled to herself. She was able to spot her dance partner with ease through the crowd and did her best to reach him would knocking anyone over as she slipped between people and dodged those who were not paying attention to where they were moving.

“Caelum!” Gavy greeted her schoolmate as she finally reached him across the dance floor. “Looks like you and I have the next dance together.” She informed him and held out her dance card, her eyes bright and friendly. “Promise to do our best not to step on each other’s toes?” She asked with a smirk pulling at her pink rose colored lips.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Einar

Mood: Gleeful

Location: Durmstrang

Interactions: Professor Campbell mysteryxio

Einar listened with rapt attention as the younger professor spoke of the struggles that he faced with each adventure he embarked on. The old man nodded as he hung onto each of his words, a skill that Einar was well known for and often made those around him feel like the words they spoke were some of the most important words ever voiced. Einar liked to give people that sense of confidence and make it clear that he was actually very interested in the conversation he held with them. No matter the subject or passion the old man would make you feel as though it were a subject he was eager to hear about. He found that it often helped his students feel more open to talking with him which he enjoyed most of all.

When the question was turned on him Einar let out a warm chuckle and shook his head. “I’m afraid not. The most I could tell you about would be how I few rather drunk and confused trolls ended up with my prized pumpkins stuck on their head.”

While the story had happened and was rather amusing Einar felt a pit in his stomach as he knew he had lied about that being his most interesting story. Honestly, the old man had many stories to tell but each one brought a certain ounce of pain to his heart as they all ended up resulting in the greatest tragedy of his life. This was why the old man never admitted to any of the stories from his days as one of the best aurors on the face of the earth, because all the stories ever did was bring heartbreak with them. With each decision, he made in each of the stories he had he can see how his “heroic” deeds had resulted in the brutal loss of his entire family. His stories and excitement died the day they did and nothing would ever change that.

As they spoke Einar followed the young professor’s gaze until it fell upon the subject of Professor Campbell’s next question. Shaking his head, the old man never lost his smile as he watched the dark-haired Russian professor glide across the dance floor with a petite blonde student as his partner. Looking back at the man he had spent the last several minutes taking to he laughed, “No, but I do not blame the man for being a gentleman.” The bearded man praised and lifted his cane up and slammed it down with enthusiasm as he spoke. “If only I were able to do the same. Oh, how these students would envy the man I was in my youth if he were on the ballroom floor tonight.” Einar laughed as he attempted to calm Professor Campbell’s worries.

code by Stardust Galaxy

Esfir (Essie)

Mood: Curious

Location: Durmstrang

Interactions: Lisandro irregular-neptune

“Indeed.” Essie confirmed her identity to Lisandro as he had just done for her. He was much shorter than she had realized, not that that really meant anything since people could surprise you no matter their size. The dark-haired Russian beauty returned his bow with a slight nod of her head accompanied by her own mastered form of a curtsy that was graceful and respectful but still held an air of power to it. She then stepped forward and gently placed her hand upon his shoulder as he placed his at her waist. Once again, the dread set in as she began to worry about all the things that could go wrong and set Baba Yaga off on this seemingly sweet young man. She wondered what it would be like to live a life where she didn’t have to fear her devilish ancestor prying power away from herself in her own body at every moment of every day over every single little thing. She assumed it must be nice to dance and have your greatest fear be that you miss a step or something like that. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a day where that was her only worry.

As the two spun around the dance floor like dancers in a music box Essie tried to take a moment to truly look at the young man in front of her. He looked well put together when compared to many of the other male students currently in attendance. His ears were pierced, a look that Essie could admit was quite flattering for the young man. His eyes looked as though they were well versed in picking up every single detail they could about everything they saw. Currently, she could see the gears turning within his mind as he struggled to figure out a way to begin small talk between the two of them. Finally, Lisandro seemed to settle upon a topic of choice as the questions began to fall from his pierced tongue.

Listening to the questions as they danced Essie made sure to keep in rhythm to the music as the words spun in her mind. “Yes.” She answered rather simply to the first question. “It is much closer than one would expect and the weather is very similar. From my knowledge, it would seem that the two schools have operated very differently from one another but there are some similarities that do exist as would be expected.” She answered as she thought about the similarities and differences between the two schools that existed. Some of their ideals were the same but while Durmstrang had houses and the like, Koldovstoretz did not. “We do fly trees rather than broomsticks at Koldovstoretz.” She informed him wondering if he would think she was joking or not, though her face remained unchanged for the most part. She was an expert at wearing a mask to hide the majority of her emotions.

“And what of your school? Castelobruxo? What is it like there?” She inquired. Having never been to Brazil and only ever read about it she had some idea of what to expect but at the same time no idea at all. As much as she hated to admit it books could only get a person so far and there was nothing like seeing the real place or thing.

code by Stardust Galaxy

 

[mysteryxio]

"I'll try but as this is only my second dance, I can't really promise anything." He laughed awkwardly then took her hand. He did better this time, only slipping the occasional glance at his feet as they moved. He moved hesitantly, unsure of his actions. "I'm happy to see you've recovered from your fall" Caelum said as he attempted to stay in sync with the music. "Have to say you are much better at this than I am." As their dance went on, he had a much easier time moving, his moves more relaxed. He thought of what he'd heard about the girl he was dancing with. All the things that their classmates said about the Metamorphmagus. How everyone seemed to love her. He thought about he she didn't really seem to show fear, at least from what he seen of her. He'd never admit this right away but he was jealous of her and how she carried herself.

"Have you learned anything interesting about the other champions? Seen any potential romances perhaps?" While he'd never considered himself as someone to be desired, there was a part of him that loved helping others find love, so if anyone around needed help perhaps he'd move things along if only a little. He scanned the room remembering that there were dozens...hundreds of others looking at him. "I hope I didn't offend you or make you think I'm trying to stir up trouble or anything it's just I tend to be nervous when I know that there are people staring at me, so talking helps with that but I sometimes say something that makes others have the wrong idea about me...uh...please say something so I don't feel like I'm freaking you out too much." His word were faster than normal but could still be understood and he felt his face redden over the words that came pouring out of him. He tried to keep his mind focused on the moment, the music the dancing and who he was with.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AJ listened to the Professor's words. He seemed honest enough but knew he had to be lying. There were not many wizards of his age, especially ones who could live in such a place with such a carefree attitude without being strong, clever, and filled with tales of wonder and excitement, not in their world. He chose not to push the subject further. He had his secrets and would respect the right not to share them. He himself had done things that he'd never tell a soul of. At least not someone he'd only just met. The hogwarts professor was concerned but since Einbar seemed to have no issues with the student and professor dancing he let his concerns rest.

"Oh come now, surely you've still the skill to dance the night away." He laughed a little. "You definitely dance better than me. Seriously, I have next to no talent when dancing is involved." He was underplaying his skill slightly. In his days as a student he loved to move and dance to the music, he was often one of the first ones on the dance floor. However after one particular adventure with a unicorn he was no longer able to dance properly after his wounds had healed. He had no clue as to why just that his movements were not how they used to be. That was a hard sixth year for him.

He was tempted to join in, to ask Einbar or a professor or student to join him but decided against that. There were plenty of dancers on the floor already. The students should enjoy themselves. Last thing they needed was someone, a guest too, interrupt their time. The only reason he didn't try to meet with the professor who just danced was that Einbar seemed to trust him and that he didn't want to make a scene where they were, last thing he wanted to do was cause some scandal. "The whole situation's a bit odd to me. The fact that we force these kids to dress up like this and dance in a way they might not know. I am however somewhat jealous of them, they are competing in the most exciting competition ever as children, I'd have loved the chance to take part in that when I was in school."

 

[Viserion]

Vikae Akiza // 7th year // Hogwarts Champion // Pure-Blood // Animagus

Vikae realized quickly that her introduction must have been far too quick for her Norwegian partner. For the look on his face became tight and surprised. Heat began to bloom in her face. She wasn't a people person in the slightest, and being a scholar surrounded by people gave her high levels of anxiety. The balls she had attended at Hogwarts were merely for show, people either found her too intimidating to talk to or didn’t pay her any mind. Which she preferred but where she excelled in school she lacked in social interactions. Not that she couldn’t or wouldn’t talk to people, she could easily it was just that she preferred not to. Her gaze flicked back up to him and she noticed he had given her a look over, his look lingering on her long legs. Her demeanor changed slightly as she shifted from foot to foot, the attention on her body making her antsy. Before she could allow herself to become more uncomfortable everyone around her began to dance in a whirlwind, prompting Kasper to nearly leap for her hand. She had to take a step back to accommodate his sudden movement as they began to dance. Then he began to speak in a heavily accented voice, she had forgotten she had asked him a question about the weather. Which he decided to practically lecture her on. She mentally scolded herself, she knew why the weather was the way it was. She studied it, but apparently that hadn’t stopped her mouth before her brain could catch up. Instead of choosing to respond, she nodded as if she was learning something new. He was a competitor, after all, may as well let him think she was naive than the latter. Despite this, she was annoyed that he would think she wouldn’t know, but again she made it seem as if she didn’t. So she simply let his condescending tone roll off of her like water on a ducks back. He brought her back out of her mind when he piqued her interest in the northern lights. Her grandfather had read about them in her library back at home. Told her all about them and his travels. Once again her demeanor shifted, almost like the ocean ever-changing. The thought of being able to view them on a cold snowy night was something she’d longed to do. To be able to shift into her wolf counterpart and walk the snowy earth let alone atop of a mountain sounded like a dream. Despite this, she wasn’t entirely sure if he was asking her out or not but she didn’t let the thought linger long. And when it came to her animagus form.... well she’d cross that bridge when she got there. It was likely he’d forget anyway and she could just do it on her own. “I’d love to, my Nonno read about them to me as a small child. He’d said it was an emotional experience. But he’s an emotional person....” Her voice trailed off slightly, luckily the conversation had seemed to drift to another. Kasper looking rather uncomfortable at his proposition. “Yes actually I have, I was born in Sicily Italy. In a small town, Palermo” her accent began to slip ever so slightly. She had worked on it throughout her life. Growing up with an Italian family and being born in Italy made it hard for her to drop it. “It’s the capital of Sicily, I moved to England when I was twelve. But my family and I go back to visit often. It’s very beautiful with a rich culture. Many people go there to view the Palazzo dei Normanni, a palace that was built in the 9th century. But my favorite part was the night markets. The roads would be lined by small stands where people would serve authentic foods or trinkets sometimes even cheaply made American items...” She drew in a breath and let her mind settle on the memory of her holding her Nonno’s hand to hold her back from running to any stand within her reach. He had taken her to a lesser-known market to buy Tiramisu. One of her fondest memories. A small smile began to set on her face before she looked up and realized she’d been rambling and daydreaming. “Ah sorry, I tend to ramble about my home. England isn’t much of a place to behold. It’s nice but it doesn’t have my culture. And I don’t get to talk about home often.” The blond nodded softly as if remembering the conversation. “My parents sell relics and artifacts so we’ve traveled a lot of the world. But none of them have made me love them the way Italy has. Have you ever left here? I heard you have the most beautiful lush forests. When we came in we passed a large meadow it looked like. I’m sure it’s absolutely stunning in the spring.”​

 

[artfvlly]

genevieve chapelle.

From the pause to think Kasper took, Genevieve wondered if she had overwhelmed him with her questions. It was probably a bad habit of hers, a nervous habit at that. She liked to know things and have a grasp on what was happening around her. She was always comfortable back in France. She knew how to do things and not make a fool of herself. The unknown managed to frighten and excite her at the same time.

Although, the overwhelmed look Kasper had on his face was enough to make her want to shrink back in horror. But she didn't, she held her composure like she always did. Genevieve even dared to tilt her head to one side as he spoke, visually processing the information as they stepped to the rhythm. An unrequited love, bokmål and nynorsk and a note to not forget to try the kanelbullar. Her red-painted lips spread into a smile, mouth opening to respond but the music had stopped.

Genevieve offered Kasper a small curtsey, not failing to notice how quickly he sprang away from here. Noted. Another smile danced across her lips as she took those few awkward moments to reply to him.
"It does. Answer my questions, that is. Thank you." She spoke in English before quickly switching back to French, "Bonne chance à toi aussi, mon ami." Without a second glance, Genevieve turned and walked back to the spot she had been in beforehand. She had another break before her next dance, this time with the one named Caelum. If she remembered correctly, he was American. The same sounded like it too.

She had been the America a handful of times with her parents. She found it rather overwhelming, dirty but exciting. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to live there. She much preferred the culture in France... the wine, the food. With that thought, her eyes flickered to the food table. With a small smile she located the dessert Kasper had been talking about. Kanelbullar. She knew she probably shouldn't be eating that much sugar, but it was a special occasion. Smiling to herself she tried a bite, savouring the sweetness on her tongue as she turned to watch the dance once again. Get to know the enemy... and the enemy liked cinnamon rolls.

coded by incandescent

​

freyja hartvigsen.

"I am from Ísland, that is well spotted," Freyja laughed, still half-leading Caelum with the steps. "I expected most people to just assume I was Sænska... or Norska because of my ættarnafn. We have similar cultures of course, but the countries are different. My family.... generations ago they used to live in Noregur and Svíþjóð. People in Ísland don't have last names unless they are a ættarnafn from generations ago. It's a complicated thing to explain... I don't know how to explain it in detail in English." Freyja paused her rambling to listen to Caelum speak of Ilvermony and dragons.

"Já, I think it is important to support each other. Even if we are from different school, I will still cheer for you." Freyja beamed at Caelum. She began to recognise the music was reaching the end. She was just thankful she had kept her toes untrodden in the process of the dance.
"I think I will take you up on that offer. Come to me any time, and I will take you on a tour! Then you will have to show me every secret that Ilvermony has!" She giggled, hearing the music finally finish.

Stepping away from Caelum, she gave him a small nod of her head.
"Not a problem, friend. Hopefully you can pass my dancing wisdom along to someone else one day. I hope we can speak again sometime!" With a small curtsey to return the favour of his bow, Freyja checked her dance card. She had a free space, then her next dance would be with Lisandro. The name sounded exotic and exciting. She couldn't place where he might be from, the ceremony had been a blur.

Reaching the outskirts of the dance, she finally felt her heartbeat calm. Adjusting the furs that sat across her shoulders her expression fell into a frown. She liked meeting new people, dancing, feeling free, it took her mind off things. Now with downtime she felt some of the anxious weight come back to her chest. The chill of Storhall creeping up under her thin dress. She silently wished she had brought her flask of fire whiskey along.

She could feel her hip beginning to ache, probably due to her no longer being distracted and the fire whiskey shots she had, had earlier wearing off. She had messed it up a few years back while skating. Nothing to serious, just meant she couldn't skate professionally anymore. It hadn't been her plan for her future.... but gods was she unsure of what her future would be now.

coded by incandescent

​

Spoiler: genevieve mobile friendly

From the pause to think Kasper took, Genevieve wondered if she had overwhelmed him with her questions. It was probably a bad habit of hers, a nervous habit at that. She liked to know things and have a grasp on what was happening around her. She was always comfortable back in France. She knew how to do things and not make a fool of herself. The unknown managed to frighten and excite her at the same time.

Although, the overwhelmed look Kasper had on his face was enough to make her want to shrink back in horror. But she didn't, she held her composure like she always did. Genevieve even dared to tilt her head to one side as he spoke, visually processing the information as they stepped to the rhythm. An unrequited love, bokmål and nynorsk and a note to not forget to try the kanelbullar. Her red-painted lips spread into a smile, mouth opening to respond but the music had stopped.

Genevieve offered Kasper a small curtsey, not failing to notice how quickly he sprang away from here. Noted. Another smile danced across her lips as she took those few awkward moments to reply to him.
"It does. Answer my questions, that is. Thank you." She spoke in English before quickly switching back to French, "Bonne chance à toi aussi, mon ami." Without a second glance, Genevieve turned and walked back to the spot she had been in beforehand. She had another break before her next dance, this time with the one named Caelum. If she remembered correctly, he was American. The same sounded like it too.

She had been the America a handful of times with her parents. She found it rather overwhelming, dirty but exciting. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to live there. She much preferred the culture in France... the wine, the food. With that thought, her eyes flickered to the food table. With a small smile she located the dessert Kasper had been talking about. Kanelbullar. She knew she probably shouldn't be eating that much sugar, but it was a special occasion. Smiling to herself she tried a bite, savouring the sweetness on her tongue as she turned to watch the dance once again. Get to know the enemy... and the enemy liked cinnamon rolls.

​

​

Spoiler: freyja mobile friendly

"I am from Ísland, that is well spotted," Freyja laughed, still half-leading Caelum with the steps. "I expected most people to just assume I was Sænska... or Norska because of my ættarnafn. We have similar cultures of course, but the countries are different. My family.... generations ago they used to live in Noregur and Svíþjóð. People in Ísland don't have last names unless they are a ættarnafn from generations ago. It's a complicated thing to explain... I don't know how to explain it in detail in English." Freyja paused her rambling to listen to Caelum speak of Ilvermony and dragons.

"Já, I think it is important to support each other. Even if we are from different school, I will still cheer for you." Freyja beamed at Caelum. She began to recognise the music was reaching the end. She was just thankful she had kept her toes untrodden in the process of the dance.
"I think I will take you up on that offer. Come to me any time, and I will take you on a tour! Then you will have to show me every secret that Ilvermony has!" She giggled, hearing the music finally finish.

Stepping away from Caelum, she gave him a small nod of her head.
"Not a problem, friend. Hopefully you can pass my dancing wisdom along to someone else one day. I hope we can speak again sometime!" With a small curtsey to return the favour of his bow, Freyja checked her dance card. She had a free space, then her next dance would be with Lisandro. The name sounded exotic and exciting. She couldn't place where he might be from, the ceremony had been a blur.

Reaching the outskirts of the dance, she finally felt her heartbeat calm. Adjusting the furs that sat across her shoulders her expression fell into a frown. She liked meeting new people, dancing, feeling free, it took her mind off things. Now with downtime she felt some of the anxious weight come back to her chest. The chill of Storhall creeping up under her thin dress. She silently wished she had brought her flask of fire whiskey along.

She could feel her hip beginning to ache, probably due to her no longer being distracted and the fire whiskey shots she had, had earlier wearing off. She had messed it up a few years back while skating. Nothing to serious, just meant she couldn't skate professionally anymore. It hadn't been her plan for her future.... but gods was she unsure of what her future would be now.

​

​

 

[Aviator]

Kasper Edelberg // Male // 7th Year // Durmstrang Champion // Half-Blood
​

To his surprise, Kasper’s proposal to view the Northern Lights—norrskenet, in his native language—with Vikae was met with an emphatic nod. Vikae’s gaze was so rapt on him that for some reason he found himself reddening. If she found it at all bizarre that an almost complete stranger had essentially asked her out on a date, she didn’t show it. A dark coil of suspicion knotted in his stomach. Could it be that Vikae was trying to lull him into a false sense of security, pretending to be his friend so that she could stab him in the back later? They were competitors, after all, and being on familiar terms with someone from the hosting school would probably be a huge advantage. Or was Kasper arrogant to assume that her decision had anything to do with himself when all she wanted was to see the Aurora? His mind was spinning. Whatever Vikae’s reason, Kasper decided that he had been incalculably stupid to ask a question with so many potentially upsetting alternate answers.
He turned his focus to the steps of the dance to distract himself, repressing a sigh of relief when Vikae finally directed the conversation elsewhere. She was a competent dancer, just as much as either of his previous partners, and even though Kasper felt for the first time that he could mostly keep up with the steps, he was finding no shortage of other topics to feel insecure about. Vikae was painted in brilliant strokes of amber as they glided past a relatively normal-colored fire along the perimeter of the room. Kasper forced a small smile that was equal parts friendly and melancholic. He found curious the scornful way in which she said emotional, as if emotions were secondary to cold, hard logic. “I find that we all tend to be emotional people, Miss V, as much as some of us may try to hide it. There is nothing wrong with the expression of emotion, for it is from our hearts that we fight, not our minds.”
Vikae gave him a quizzical look and parted her lips as if to respond but then seemingly thought better of it and glanced away. A moment later, she started in on Kasper’s question about her travels prior to the tournament. As she talked, she gradually grew more and more animated, as if her youth in Sicily were a subject she greatly enjoyed. Kasper felt a wash of secondhand delight to have selected a question that resonated so deeply with her, but that feeling warred with a twinge of jealousy. In all his life, he had never once left Scandinavia. Hell, for the past two years he hadn’t even left Norway, because he was too much a coward to pay his father a visit at the institution when Kasper had indirectly been the one to land him there. Nonetheless, there was no dramatic difference in climate between the Norway of Durmstrang and Kasper’s Swedish homeland. All he knew was cold.
“No, please, I don’t mind at all,” he reassured, waving off Vikae’s apology for rambling. “It is nice to hear a perspective so different from my own.” Vikae countered with a question aimed at Kasper, and he broke off, dumbfounded by how close an echo it was to his previous thoughts. Yet he ironically paused to hunt for an answer. Kasper hated being disingenuous, but there were some subjects too touchy for polite conversation, and this was one of them. “No, I’m afraid I don’t get out much,” he said slowly. “The curriculum here at Durmstrang is rigorous, so I don’t, ohm, have much time for leisure, I guess.” Which was technically impossible for Kasper to know when he had no experience with the curriculums of other schools to compare Durmstrang to. Plus, even if Durmstrang’s curriculum was rigorous, Kasper skipped class as often as he attended, and studying stressed him out. He was always finding one excuse or another to avoid doing schoolwork, mostly because he didn’t see the point in anything so—
Just then a wide-hipped girl in a yellow dress bumped into Vikae, sending her weight careening into Kasper’s chest. The breath rushed from him in surprise as much as a result of the impact. Vikae was tall enough that her huff of frustration brushed his ear in a warm cloud. Her hands slid up Kasper’s arms to clench around his shoulders, bracing herself as she tried to maneuver her heeled feet beneath her. Kasper’s heart set to galloping, but not from pleasure at the unexpected contact. “Hej, ohm, could you not—?” He let the question hang, unsure how to finish it in a way that wouldn’t sound rude. Fear had choked his voice to a thin whisper. He was acutely aware of the leathery material of the gloves on his hands, which he clenched into anxious fists. Where they pinched his shoulders, Vikae’s hands were unsettlingly close to his neck, where Kasper’s skin was exposed. Vulnerable. He shifted uncomfortably beneath her, praying Vikae would hurry up and withdraw to a safe distance.
The touch cut through him like a blade. A wall of darkness collapsed down on him, and Kasper became hyperaware of the sound of his own breath shuddering through his lungs. The darkness, accompanied by a blast of burning cold, lasted only a moment before transforming, but it was in these moments that Kasper felt the coldest and most alone in his life. Light burst through the darkness, almost blinding him as a new scene unfolded around him.
Suddenly Kasper was standing in a dimly-lit room with lavish furnishings: a four-poster bed with a long curtain of gauze hanging from the canopy, a mahogany desk shoved into one corner so that it was bathed in the starlight from a nearby window. Slumped at the desk was an adolescent girl’s defeated form, her pale hair rendered ethereal in the faint glow. Kasper shuffled forward—he could always move freely about, but his actions were intangible, unable to change the course of others’ memories—to catch a glimpse of the girl, but he already knew who it was. Vikae Akiza hunched in her chair, her spine compressed into what looked like a painful angle. A small sniffle came from the desk, just as something sparked in the light before splatting onto its lacquered surface. She was crying, Kasper realized with a jolt. Before he could think too much of it, however, the memory morphed.
Now the light—a lot more of it—came from a crystal chandelier dangling proudly in the middle of a spacious living room. It was the kind of place Kasper had seen on television shows but never actually set foot in, with marble sculptures arcing up from the gold-veined floor and surfaces so pristine that he would have been wary of breathing on them wrong. It looked more like a museum than where someone would live; everything was cold and priceless and beautiful. Standing near a spiraling metal staircase was another depiction of Vikae, though here she looked several years younger, and her hair was cut in a sleek bob. A dark-haired woman with narrow, birdlike features towered over her, her eyes ablaze. “...useless, you know that? I can’t figure out for my life why I still pay to feed and clothe such an incompetent child who doesn’t appreciate the sacrifices her parents make for her. Any other mother would have dropped you off on the doorstep of a goddamn orphanage long ago!” The woman’s face was contorted into rigid, harsh lines. As Kasper watched, she lifted a vindictive arm and slapped the girl smartly across the face.
The room spun, as if Kasper himself had been snapped around from the force of the slap. Then the walls and ceiling faded and vanished and suddenly he was standing outside. The sun was a drying pool of blood on the horizon, illuminating the radiant colors of what looked like a vineyard. Tall and leafy sprouts of vegetation shot up from soot-black earth like platoons of soldiers assembled in ruthless formation. Kasper’s brow knit in confusion, and he whirled. There was no Vikae in sight, but as he watched, a massive dark-furred dog came barreling down a dirt path, kicking up clumps of earth in its wake. Kasper instinctively glanced up the path ahead of the dog, but it appeared to be chasing nothing, least of all Vikae. What the hell…? As the dog raced along the path, Kasper backed to its edge, and the canine knifed past him with a powerful swoosh of air that should have belonged to something twice its size. It wasn’t until that split second when he’d been staring into its burnt-clay eyes that he realized it was not a dog, but a wolf.
Darkness spun him like a wave, hugging his senses, then spit him back into his body like a doll thrown against a wall. The roar of the orchestra seemed overly loud in his ears, his vision swimming. He knew from prior experience that the photo album of memories had taken a second to flip through, maybe two, but Kasper felt like a sailor who steps onto land for the first time after months at sea: disoriented, his stomach in knots, legs ready to cave beneath him. His eyes darted to Vikae. She stood dazed and almost motionless, if not for the shallow rise and fall of her chest, her expression as frozen as if her brain activity had briefly cut out. It was no surprise that Kasper had recovered first; God knew this wasn’t his first time being pulled into a vortex of memory, even if his last incident had been over a month ago. The gloves helped to keep the occurrence to a minimum, but obviously they hadn’t been enough tonight.
Kasper’s heart pounded, willing Vikae to snap out of her stupor. They were standing completely still on the dance floor, and already heads were turning. Finally, she stirred faintly, blinking her eyes rapidly and murmuring to herself in a silken language that Kasper guessed was Italian. She lifted one hand from his shoulder to support her forehead on, as if she’d had one too many drinks and they had caught up with her all at once. Mercifully, the orchestra lapsed into a closing refrain. Before the last note died out, Kasper detached himself from Vikae. Not only did she look too dazed to perceive anything he would have said, but Kasper had no clue what to say to someone whose soul had just been laid bare before him, whose innermost thoughts he had violated. Shame scorched through him until he was consumed, and he left Vikae standing there, head cradled in her hands, without so much as a goodbye.
Distantly, Kasper knew just how shaken the encounter had left him when the next name on his dance card failed to faze him: Freyja Hartvigsen. The girl whose trust he had broken, and who had shattered his heart in return. It wasn’t like Kasper had meant to repeatedly invade her thoughts, but even as he thought it, it sounded like a feeble excuse. The fact that his affliction had caused even Freyja to turn her back on him convinced Kasper that it indeed made him a monster. He hadn’t always been this way, Kasper thought as he picked out Freyja’s seduction-red dress by the refreshments table, storming into others’ minds unbidden whenever physical contact was made. It had only really become a problem over the past six months or so, as if his affliction had a mind of its own and demanded to be noticed. Most victims of Kasper’s curse were none the wiser after having had their minds trespassed upon, but he supposed he’d done it one too many times to Freyja, until she started snapping puzzle pieces together. And the picture they had formed was one of loneliness and endless guilt for Kasper. He had not spoken to Freyja once all summer, not since their breakup. Seeing the wolf pelt draped around her shoulders sent a chill through him as his mind flashed back to Vikae’s memories.
He slouched up to the refreshments table, morosely tipping a sugary-looking drink into a styrofoam cup. Kasper took a sip and felt a buzz of energy crackle through him. Sugary indeed. He drank heartily, crushed the cup, and tossed it into a trash can. Then he eyed some of the kanelbulle he had advocated to Genevieve Chapelle. But with the nerves thrashing through him, he knew if he had one right now, he’d most likely throw it up. Making a silent promise to return to the cinnamon buns and other delicacies before the night was over, Kasper wandered closer to the brunette with her back turned to him as she stared out over the crowded dance floor—presumably for Kasper. Freyja idly massaged her hip with the hand that wasn’t holding a drink, and Kasper wondered if it was the first time she had ever searched a crowd for him after their breakup. “You know if you ask Einar nicely, he’ll probably give you some fire whiskey after this shitshow is over,” Kasper said in Norwegian when he was standing only a few feet away.
Freyja jumped slightly and spun. When she saw who was addressing her, her wide eyes narrowed to distrustful slits. Clearly Kasper had done too good a job of guessing her thoughts, in that natural way he could only do with her, when his affliction wasn’t taking over. “Sorry. But it was an honest guess—obviously a lucky one, too,” he said, trying for a nonchalant shrug. “You always crave fire whiskey when your hip is aching. Used to always,” he corrected hastily, since it wasn’t like they had spoken at all recently. Freyja just kept staring at him, saying nothing to break the silence, as if she wanted Kasper to choke on it. Or maybe she’s actually considering you, he thought hopefully. Yeah, right. Kasper mentally told his inner voice to keep dreaming. A flutter of nerves kicked up in his chest. “So, ohm, there’s the dance floor,” Kasper said, pointing helplessly, lost for words, feeling like an idiot for stating the obvious. But Freyja didn’t seem intent on going anywhere with him, mandatory dance or not. “Look, Freyja, please. I feel worse than you could ever imagine for what happened to us—every day—but can we please talk about this another time when hundreds of people aren’t watching?”

 

[jrink]

A familiar voice touched Rotimi's ears, the dark-skinned boy feeling a smile crease up his lips ever so slightly as he took a final sip of the drink he'd been cradling. Lowering the drink to the table beside him as he answered Zeena's curtsy with a dip of his head (it wasn't exactly a culturally expected gesture, but it felt like a necessary answer), he was struck for a moment by just how comforting it was to see someone from his own school, someone.. familiar in all this unfamiliar.

"Nice seeing you too, again," he intoned lightly, extending a hand in the Ethiopian girl's direction and waiting a couple of beats for her to take it before he begin to lead them out to the floor. Her second question Rotimi intentionally waited a couple of beats to answer, telling himself his purpose for doing so was to make the other girl sweat (though it was doubtful that it would have that effect). In truth, Rotimi wasn't quite sure how to answer it without coming off as... too arrogant. Something about the chain of events that had led to his name being plucked as a potential candidate had seemed predestined to him, not to mention a good confidence boost in all of the bad of the past year. So even though it was extremely arrogant to say (so naturally, Rotimi had no intentions of directly saying so), the Nigerian felt... quite assured in the knowledge that he'd be picked. Nervousness was the farthest thing from his mind, to be frank.

"I think there's nothing to be nervous about," he settled for saying just a little bit coyly as they begin to spin about the floor. Amusement tugged his lips into an involuntary smile as he continued. "are you nervous though? You can admit it, I'd never judge you the way these others might."

Awaiting a response as they spun across the floor, Rotimi had to hurriedly pull himself and Zeena to the side to avoid a collision as the couple closest to them on their right slowed to an abrupt stop. Shooting the couple an annoyed glance and taking in the red-haired guy from the earlier commotion and a blonde girl - though the expression on the girl’s face was troubling, she looked almost vacant..? No, just confused, dazed. As she reached up to cradle her head between her hands and the red-head hurried away with an embarrassed, (maybe guilty, Rotimi noted) expression, Rotimi glanced at Zeena before tilting his head in the direction of the girl.

"Sorry, I didn't want to break off our dance this early. But she doesn't look so good. I think we should get her off the floor before someone else crashes into her?"

From what he remembered of Zeena in their past friendship, Rotimi thought she'd probably be okay with that. She was nice, nicer then some of the other friends he'd had back at school. So that in mind, Rotimi headed over to the confused looking girl, making his tone friendly if a bit coaxing. "Are you okay, you don't look so good. Can we get you a drink?" Hopefully she spoke English well enough to get what he was saying. But if she didn't, he hoped his tone was friendly enough to be interpreted as such as he he subtly herded the girl off the dance floor with each word, away from the thickest parts of the room and towards the more sparsely populated refreshments table.

 

[irregular-neptune]

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  distressed, embarrassed

  
  
  
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  the refreshments table

  
  
  

Dakota was just excited to be meeting all of the new people, she didn’t wait for much of a response from Jae-Hui before the next song began and she placed her hands on him as the song began. A few moments of silence as she thought nervously of what to say (Jae-Hui didn’t seem like much of the talkative type, though he seemed like he would be nice enough). “How are you enjoying the ball? I’m not so used to things like this, but I’ve been enjoying meeting everyone.”

This was the truth, though her social skills perhaps weren’t the best, at least the dance card nature of the ball kept their interactions to a few minute minimum and she couldn’t ramble on as she was known to do and irritate her potential future competitors before they’d really gotten to know each other. Plus, she was glad for the required movement and the closeness of everybody for once in her life, as the Storhall had been colder than she’d expected upon their arrival, so the energy being produced by everyone’s body heat was almost welcome (though soon she’d expect a necessary break and newfound appreciation for the slight chill).

She had perhaps gotten a little too careless with her spatial awareness across the dance floor, as she mis stepped and smacked straight into Vikae, slamming her into her current partner, a red headed boy who took the full force of Vikae’s weight as she lost her balance and the boy half scolded her before the pair stood for a few moments that felt like forever. Dakota had continued with Jae-Hui for a few feet, but as she watched them pause, she also froze, embarrassed both that she had run into Vikae and had apparently caused some of a scene, with the boy leaving Vikae alone on the dance floor, having said nothing.

Her face burning as some people continued dancing around the scene, she looked at Jae-Hui and excused herself, glad that she had a break for the next dance, and went to stand by the refreshments table far away from where the red headed boy had gone to talk to another girl. She almost ran into a blonde eating something that resembled a cinnamon roll and apologized profusely before looking for somewhere she could hide or at least stand out of sight while she tried to get over her embarrassment. Could she not have made it through an evening without being totally clumsy and making a scene for once?

dakota

secondary

Jae-Hui, Genevieve

Jannah

♡coded by uxie♡

Spoiler: dakota mobile friendly

dakota

mood: distressed, embarassed | location: the refreshment's table | outfit: 1 2 3 | mentions: Jannah artfvlly

Dakota was just excited to be meeting all of the new people, she didn’t wait for much of a response from Jae-Hui before the next song began and she placed her hands on him as the song began. A few moments of silence as she thought nervously of what to say (Jae-Hui didn’t seem like much of the talkative type, though he seemed like he would be nice enough). “How are you enjoying the ball? I’m not so used to things like this, but I’ve been enjoying meeting everyone.”

This was the truth, though her social skills perhaps weren’t the best, at least the dance card nature of the ball kept their interactions to a few minute minimum and she couldn’t ramble on as she was known to do and irritate her potential future competitors before they’d really gotten to know each other. Plus, she was glad for the required movement and the closeness of everybody for once in her life, as the Storhall had been colder than she’d expected upon their arrival, so the energy being produced by everyone’s body heat was almost welcome (though soon she’d expect a necessary break and newfound appreciation for the slight chill).

She had perhaps gotten a little too careless with her spatial awareness across the dance floor, as she mis stepped and smacked straight into Vikae, slamming her into her current partner, a red headed boy who took the full force of Vikae’s weight as she lost her balance and the boy half scolded her before the pair stood for a few moments that felt like forever. Dakota had continued with Jae-Hui for a few feet, but as she watched them pause, she also froze, embarrassed both that she had run into Vikae and had apparently caused some of a scene, with the boy leaving Vikae alone on the dance floor, having said nothing.

Her face burning as some people continued dancing around the scene, she looked at Jae-Hui and excused herself, glad that she had a break for the next dance, and went to stand by the refreshments table far away from where the red headed boy had gone to talk to another girl. She almost ran into a blonde eating something that resembled a cinnamon roll and apologized profusely before looking for somewhere she could hide or at least stand out of sight while she tried to get over her embarrassment. Could she not have made it through an evening without being totally clumsy and making a scene for once?

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  dancing with Essie

  
  
  

Lisandro politely listened as she responded, focusing on their dancing, but his eyes widened when she said they rode whole trees as opposed to the simple broom sticks most wizarding communities rode (of course, there were varieties, and some cultures had other creatures they rode in place of brooms, but it was all the same concept). Still, he had never hard of anyone riding a tree. “A whole tree? How does that work? Is it a small tree or have you perfected quite different methods of riding?” He wasn’t one for picking up on a joke, so if she was joking he couldn’t have guessed, he just assumed she was telling the truth because her face didn’t show the usual tells of one telling a joke and Lisandro wasn’t good at reading faces anyways.

Thinking she had brushed over her comment about riding trees altogether too quickly (he was very curious about the logistics of riding trees – were Russians pulling up whole forests for games of Quidditch?), he thought for a moment about her question. “Well, Castelobruxo is a bit, ah…” He thought for a moment about how to explain it in English. “Grander?” he offered sheepishly. “It’s quite a bit brighter, almost golden, and in the middle of the rainforest. It’s quite a bit warmer, too.”

He hesitated for a few moments, then offered. “Not that I don’t think it’s grand here, they are just different.” He knew she wasn’t from Durmstrang, but he didn’t want to offend anyone potentially listening and she had said her school wasn’t much different. Not that he particularly liked Durmstrang, but he knew it would be rude to speak down on their current hosts’ school and didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

He cleared his throat, “I know it will not be for a while yet, but when we go to my school, I can show you around if you like.”

lisandro

champion

Essie

Jannah

♡coded by uxie♡

Spoiler: lis mobile friendly

lis

mood: nervous| location: dancing with Essie | outfit: 1 2 | mentions: Jannah

Lisandro politely listened as she responded, focusing on their dancing, but his eyes widened when she said they rode whole trees as opposed to the simple broom sticks most wizarding communities rode (of course, there were varieties, and some cultures had other creatures they rode in place of brooms, but it was all the same concept). Still, he had never hard of anyone riding a tree. “A whole tree? How does that work? Is it a small tree or have you perfected quite different methods of riding?” He wasn’t one for picking up on a joke, so if she was joking he couldn’t have guessed, he just assumed she was telling the truth because her face didn’t show the usual tells of one telling a joke and Lisandro wasn’t good at reading faces anyways.



Thinking she had brushed over her comment about riding trees altogether too quickly (he was very curious about the logistics of riding trees – were Russians pulling up whole forests for games of Quidditch?), he thought for a moment about her question. “Well, Castelobruxo is a bit, ah…” He thought for a moment about how to explain it in English.

“Grander?” he offered sheepishly. “It’s quite a bit brighter, almost golden, and in the middle of the rainforest. It’s quite a bit warmer, too.”



He hesitated for a few moments, then offered. “Not that I don’t think it’s grand here, they are just different.”



He knew she wasn’t from Durmstrang, but he didn’t want to offend anyone potentially listening and she had said her school wasn’t much different. Not that he particularly liked Durmstrang, but he knew it would be rude to speak down on their current hosts’ school and didn’t want to seem ungrateful.



He cleared his throat, “I know it will not be for a while yet, but when we go to my school, I can show you around if you like.”

• .
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  by the refreshments table

  
  
  

Kaz had been patrolling the outskirts of the dance floor and the refreshments table slowly for a couple of songs, stopping here and there to just watch or lean up against something, occasionally talking to a couple of the other professors who were assigned to the dance floor (there weren’t many of them, most of the professors were up above, looking down and watching the festivities from a more detached spot, but Kaz didn’t mind being in the middle of the action, only worried if something were to go wrong). For the most part, the students were very self-organized and found their dance partners easily, and little more than occasional dancing hiccups happened.



Until he saw someone bump into another student mid dance, causing two pairs of partners to be thrown out of sync of the rest, and one of each of the pairs rushed to the refreshments table, quickly followed by a third pair escorting another student grabbing her head. Kaz approached concernedly, “What happened? Is she okay?” he asked the couple who had brought her over as he motioned to an empty table with a chair in case she needed to sit down before addressing her. “Can I get you anything?”



She didn’t seem to have anything physically wrong with herself, which led him to be concerned that someone had possibly cast a spell on her or something. He couldn’t imagine there would be an attack quite like that already, the competition had barely begun, and nobody even knew who their true competitors were yet. But he couldn’t rule that out, he supposed, looking at the girl with concern.

kaz

professor

Rotimi, Zeena, Vikae

Sanctuaryforall1

♡coded by uxie♡

Spoiler: kaz mobile friendly

kaz

mood: concerned | location: by the refreshments table| outfit: 1| mentions: jrink Jannah Viserion

Kaz had been patrolling the outskirts of the dance floor and the refreshments table slowly for a couple of songs, stopping here and there to just watch or lean up against something, occasionally talking to a couple of the other professors who were assigned to the dance floor (there weren’t many of them, most of the professors were up above, looking down and watching the festivities from a more detached spot, but Kaz didn’t mind being in the middle of the action, only worried if something were to go wrong). For the most part, the students were very self-organized and found their dance partners easily, and little more than occasional dancing hiccups happened.


Until he saw someone bump into another student mid dance, causing two pairs of partners to be thrown out of sync of the rest, and one of each of the pairs rushed to the refreshments table, quickly followed by a third pair escorting another student grabbing her head. Kaz approached concernedly, “What happened? Is she okay?” he asked the couple who had brought her over as he motioned to an empty table with a chair in case she needed to sit down before addressing her. “Can I get you anything?”


She didn’t seem to have anything physically wrong with herself, which led him to be concerned that someone had possibly cast a spell on her or something. He couldn’t imagine there would be an attack quite like that already, the competition had barely begun, and nobody even knew who their true competitors were yet. But he couldn’t rule that out, he supposed, looking at the girl with concern.