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Fandom Octowizard Tournament // Wizarding World // RP Thread

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Raphael

Beauxbatons Champion







Mood:


Pumped






Location:


Ilvermorny






Outfit:


Click me!







Interactions:


Sasha and Clara










Raphael listened to Sasha talk about the house she got sorted into and why she thought she was placed there. The conversation was good and she was a nice girl but their dance was coming to a close. It was a shame because she was nice to talk to but maybe his other partners would be as pleasant as she was. He gave her one last twirl before releasing her and bidding her farewell. "It was nice to meet you Sasha." Once she left he fished out his card from his pocket and looked at the name on it.

Clara Winter.

That had to be Cosmo's twin. He mentioned having a sister but she wasn't with them when they were all eating on the train so he was going to have to look around and find her solely on what girl was standing alone. Wait. Didn't he see her earlier when everyone was getting on the carriages to go to Ilvermorny? He sort of remembered her wearing a green and white ensemble. Yes. He remembered. She and Cosmo had worked the stage together during everyone's introductions. He spotted her dancing with the boy he met before introductions. Ricky was smiling and she was not. Raphael hoped she wouldn't extend such niceties to him.







 


  • Naomi Eun Hai (De Vries)
    Beauxbatons - Female - Muggle Born - Secondary


    As the dance began Naomi took a gentle hold of Lanre’s hand, placing her other delicately on his shoulder. With the music weaving around the room she noticed his nerves and recalled him admitting to not being a very good dancer. “Pretend we are stepping on clouds.” Her soft, airy voice sounded just loud enough for him to hear. “Step quick and light, with grace, so your foot doesn’t go through the cloud but springs off of it.” She continued and knew logically her suggestion made little sense since you couldn’t actually step on clouds but it was meant as a visual to help him if he chose to indulge her. “Once you can dance on the clouds, you can dance anywhere.” She smiled encouragingly towards the young man as they continued to move with the rhythm of the instrumental music. For a moment she tuned in solely on the piano, the sweet sound of the keys vibrating through the air and sending chills along her spine, it was a beautiful sensation that she cherished for the heartbeat it lasted.

    Returning to the question Lanre had asked her before the dancing began she glanced over at Kiara and Raph with a fond smile. “I am fortunate to have such kind and capable schoolmates. Raph always has such warmth to give towards those around him and Kiara has a presence that brings life to any situation. It makes traveling with them a delightful experience. I hope you get to know both of them, I imagine a fast friendship might form if you did.” Her words dripped with genuine admiration and fondness for her classmates as she spoke of them. Clearly, the pail-haired beauty meant every word that fell from her petal-pink lips as she spun in Lanre’s arms, allowing her body to move with the music as it spoke to her. This music was kind on her ears, kinder even on her soul, such could not be said for every song to ever be sung. Naomi was more than grateful that she was here now dancing on clouds with Lanre then back in the world where music meant pain and darkness spilled from her like sand.

    Sooner than she had hoped the music began to dwindle as it entered a limbo period so the dancers could find their next partner. Stepping back from the young Hogwarts student she lowered herself towards the ground in a curtsy and blinked up at him. “Thank you for dancing across the sky with me Lanre. You did beautifully.” She praised him as her mahogany gaze glowed with warmth towards the young man. “I’m sure you and Theo will find your way towards each other.” She added with the hope that Lanre and Theo might find true companionship with one another as the tournament marched onward. She knew she would be forever grateful to have the support of Raph and Kiara, she wanted the same support for Lanre and Theo, even if they were competition. “Have a wonderful evening.” She breathed finally and turned to find her next dance partner.

    Glancing at her dance card she found she did not recognize the second name listed but soon the memory of a half-giant being presented as one of the students from Mahoutokoro emerged from her memory. Looking around she was certain the young man would stand out in a crowd but when her gentle gaze finally fell upon him he was shorter than she remembered. It made sense to use a spell to lessen his size for this evening's activities as dancing with a partner of his natural height might prove a bit challenging. Gliding across the dance floor like a cherry blossom petal on the wind, Naomi soon stood before Odinson Locjaw. The young half-giant still towered over her but that didn’t seem to bother her as she bowed to him and glanced up, her sweet smile still present on her lips, warm and inviting like a hearth or a home. “Odinson Locjaw?” She inquired politely. “My name is Naomi Hai-De Vries, it is a pleasure to meet you.”



    Mentions: Lanre pearjuice pearjuice Odinson FROSTBITE4395 FROSTBITE4395



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Vasu Saini // “Shiva’s Heir” // Male // 5th Year // Koldovstoretz Champion // Parselmouth​

The girl named Aurelia was exceptionally tall, standing the better part of a head taller than the meek boy she was coupled with, who appeared to be scuttling to keep up with her smooth strides. Vasu watched her bid her former dance partner goodbye with a manicured politician’s smile, the warmth and light cultivated like those of the Koldovstoretz greenhouse. She moved with a certain slow, deliberate regality that Gavriel, practically bouncing up and down in excitement, sorely lacked, as if Aurelia had been born and bred for polite society. Vasu realized that she fit his preconceptions for what a champion should look like far better than either Gavy or Sasha. Perhaps Gavy had been so uninhibited because Ilvermorny was a familiar environment for her, but unlike the other girls, Aurelia exuded etiquette. She looked like a monarch.
Her gaze didn’t waver once she locked eyes with him. Seeing Vasu standing to the side, she approached him, walking like a bullet ready to tear through anything that stood in its path. She pronounced his full name formally, and Vasu noticed a neutral accent. Uagadou was located in Uganda, but it catered to all of Africa, and he was unable to discern Aurelia’s country of origin based on voice alone. And Vasu prided himself on his linguistic ear. “Miss Quansah,” he said, reciprocating the formal greeting and hoping that he was saying her name right. In hindsight, he realized that Gavriel’s question about pronunciation was a very logical one. Aurelia dipped her head in the slightest of bows, more an extended nod than anything, and Vasu wondered if it was an open acknowledgement of the fact that her family was likely of a higher station than his.
Once prestigious, the Sainis had begun to fade into the background when his parents had decided to become merchants of magic rather than players in the Indian political arena, and his father’s death had marked the spill of their finances into ruin. So far, it had been a humbling experience to come to America, where no one recognized his name, his grandmother’s lofty status as a seer blessed with visions by the gods, or their extensive investments in lumber used for wandmaking. Even at Koldovstoretz, where Slavic students predominated, a respectful berth was cleared for Vasu when he passed others in the hall, and he auditioned first for school productions so as to not be kept waiting by lesser stars who would not get the role anyway. But now that he wouldn’t be at Koldovstoretz for a year, would he find his reputation faded when he returned? Was the drab anonymity he received at Ilvermorny his future?
Aurelia commented something peculiar, suggesting that the dance cards might lie. Vasu didn’t particularly enjoy others’ company unless there was a purpose to it, but he’d suffered through enough country club dinners and holiday parties with nosy Europeans to know the socially correct response. “Well, let’s hope they don’t. It’d be a shame to miss out on a dance with one so lovely as you,” Vasu said dutifully. Gavriel’s carefree energy was infectious, and he’d liked her well enough, but aside from her shapeshifting talents, Vasu didn’t consider her much of a threat in the tournament. She lacked the discipline to advance very far. This girl, on the other hand, a well-spoken queen in the making, was someone that Vasu knew he wanted on his side in less than a minute of talking with her.
Aurelia extended a graceful hand toward him, a motion choreographed like it belonged in a ballet. As she did, a scent like the color orange wafted through the air, peaches and mangoes, bonfires and desert sands aglow with rays of dying light. Her blue dress was as stately as should be expected of one of high society, but the fact that she hadn’t worn orange was a missed opportunity. Although Vasu knew that others weren’t so attuned to scent as he and the pairing probably would have been lost on them. It was part of the package of being descended from Shiva the Destroyer, god of snakes. “We shall,” he answered. Vasu was just about to ask permission to touch her as he had with Gavy, but as soon as the words crossed his lips Aurelia grabbed him, snatching his hand in hers and putting her other one on his shoulder. Her touch was not forceful but firm. Vasu tried to stifle a smile but was not entirely successful, because Aurelia asked about the change in his expression. So eager. Not even going to buy me dinner first? he itched to respond, but he didn’t know Aurelia well enough to joke with her, and nothing about her saintly dignity had given him the impression that she had a sense of humor.
Staring at him with bright interest trained on him like searchlights, Aurelia awaited an answer. She’s not afraid of questioning other people, Vasu noted. “You saved me the trouble of asking,” he admitted, sensing that she wouldn’t buy it if he gave some bland response like he was so happy to be here with her. Among Indian men, Vasu was slightly tallish, yet standing so close to Aurelia he realized that she had an inch or so on him. At least he wasn’t dwarfed like her former partner had been, poor guy.
There was the sound of fast-moving footsteps and a brief tuning of instruments from the corner of the room. The quartet of musicians in their red velvet suits was expanding its ranks, being joined by two students carrying bass guitars, and a girl in a black cocktail dress with a microphone. An expectant hush fell over the room as the conductor raised his arms. A few students shifted nervously on the dance floor. And then there was a pop of bass and the girl with the microphone snapped her fingers along to a mid-tempo, moody beat. G-major, Vasu thought automatically as a surge went up from the audience, as if it were a popular song being played and they’d just identified it. He wasn’t overly familiar with Muggle music, so the song was lost on him, but he thought the opening verse consisting of a “diamond in the flesh” and “cut my teeth on wedding rings” made for interesting lyrics.
At various points, once they’d gotten a feel for the song, the couples on the floor lurched into motion. The fact that the first song had been a stuffy orchestral number, and now… this? An alternative pop song? Vasu was thrown for a loop, unsure how to ballroom dance to it. He’d mistakenly thought that all of the songs would be classical background drivel. He and Aurelia looked at each other for a moment, both of them silently calculating, before Vasu started with a basic hip swish. The tempo wasn’t fast enough that it demanded much movement, so he’d play it safe with slow, minimal steps until that changed. “So, Aurelia,” Vasu said tentatively, not wanting to waste his dance with a powerful potential ally in silence. “I don’t know this song, but I’m guessing from the crowd’s reaction that it’s a popular one in the Muggle world. What kind of music do you listen to, and do you play any instruments?”
 




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    I'm sorry I wasn't there when you were little. I would have iced the bruises on your back.

    - Written about Ramona​






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Lanre wasn't sure what Naomi meant by her advice, so he could really only guess what she was actually trying to say. Thankfully, she didn't just leave it at 'walk on a cloud' and went further to elaborate. After a few mishaps, he seemed to get the hang of it, and he made sure to thank her profusely for the advice and gave her a grateful smile. Dancing had never really been his thing. He could goof off and accidentally hit a move that looked cool, but it wasn't really his thing. Parties in general weren't his thing. His scene was a good board game with a few of his friends - his only friends.

The two of them went on to talk about their classmates. He had known that Naomi came from the school that had selected three students instead of two, so she had twice as much to talk about, especially since Raphael and Kiara were big personalities. He had picked up on it just from how they'd all walked the stage, with Raphael not looking quite comfortable but not caring, and Kiara working the crowd like so many other students had before and after her. Naomi had been the exception, choosing to smell a flower instead of woo the audience, but she'd pulled her own sort of crowd with it.

Lanre decided that Naomi was a fun dance partner. Something about talking to her was soothing, and she wasn't super intimidating. She was more down to earth and easy to chat with, which was a relief that she'd also been the one to give him solid dance advice. All too soon their dance was coming to an end, and he bid her farewell with a smile and a wave. "I hope to see you again soon."

Once he saw that Naomi had found her next partner, he began looking for his, a girl named Zuri. He spotted her just as she was walking away from her previous partner, and he approached her with a nervous smile. "Zuri?" He asked the dark haired girl, admiring her hair. "I'm Lanre. I think we're up next."



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    You are worth finding. Worth knowing. Worth loving. You and all your one million layers. I know you think yourself to be full of poems and rage but you are more than your anger. I miss the girl who was really happy.

    - Your big bro​






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Clara couldn't have been any more thankful that their dance was almost over. Her face felt strange - it felt tingly and warm and no matter how hard or intensely she stared at Ricky, wishing for him to burn alive where he stood, he seemed to only smile brighter and she only felt angrier. He pulled her up from the dip but she was still scrambling for something witty to say. Thankfully the music came to an end, and she all but ripped herself away from his grasp. The smooth hand that had been on her waist was swatted away, and she yanked her hand out of his. She fixed him with a glare, as dangerous as she could make it.

"As lovely as this was," She drawled, taking a step back, "I'm leaving. Do try to refrain from stabbing me in the back - whatever you do to me, I can do worse to you."

It wasn't terrible enough, but Clara's mind was spinning, and she wanted nothing more than to get away from him. Fortunately, she had taken the time to memorize the people that she would have to dance with. Save for Ricky and Vasu, she only had a few faces to remember. Her next partner, Raphael, was waiting for her across the way and Clara was quick to ditch Ricky in favor of the other boy.

She gave him a dazzling smile, her white teeth baring as she approached him. "Raphael," She purred, just incase Ricky was still watching. She gave a little curtsey to the other man, sizing him up. He was taller than her and appeared to be in good shape. He was from Beauxbaton if she had remembered it correctly, but honestly she didn't need to; most people from that school were stupid attractive, and Raphael was handsome. He appeared boyish without the messy aspect, though something about his demeanor suggested that he had no problem getting dirty when necessary. She liked that.

"I'm Clara Winter. Do you fancy a dance?" She asked, offering a hand to him.



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    I changed. It's hard for me to know who I was before all of this. I molded myself into a pretender. Now, every other version of me feels fake.

    - Written about herself​






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Amity watched the crowd, intentionally turning a blind eye as one of the teachers she met earlier poured something discreetly into the punch. She looked down at her shoes, swallowing a smile that threatened to split her face in half. She loved chaos - it was easier for her mistakes, if she made any, to go undetected. A night as publicized as the opening ceremonies for the Triwizard Tournament meant there were a lot of eyes on their school. If she was lucky, a student or two would get drunk and become the center of attention and make it easier for her to slip undetected. Plus, it was just funny to see the way teenagers could be so damn dramatic.

She hadn't been a partier as a child. She was reserved and quiet. She had a few friends, but not many, and mostly kept to the same circle during her time at school. Keaton had broadened her life for a short while before ultimately isolating her. He had dragged her to parties before abruptly telling her to stay away and out of sight of anyone that could look at her. Amity didn't like to think about most of her life because Keaton had been such a huge part of it at one point. She resented him for still being a huge part of it - if it weren't for him, she wouldn't have had to run away to America and start anew. She missed her family and the opportunity that she would have had to reconnect with them were it not for Keaton's abuse and meddling.

Students were switching dance partners. She watched as Vasu moved from Gavy to Aurelia, and Clara violently separated herself from Ricky to move towards Raphael with an entirely new personality. Amity's blue eyes glanced over at the teacher table, noticing Cha-Cha was still dealing with his.... fans. It's still better than watching him get hit on over and over again, she mused despite feeling a little bad for him. Not wanting him to feel her eyes on him, she turned to face away from the table and made herself busy getting into conversation with another Ilvermorny teacher.



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    I don't understand muggle music. The 12 days of Christmas is completely unrealistic. There is no way that you're still accepting gifts from someone after 4 days of birds. Anyways, happy holidays. Don't forget my gift.
    - Yours truly​






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Cosmo's dance with Zuri was coming to a close. They made small conversation, mostly lead by him (which he didn't mind), and eventually the music came to a slow. He gave her a wink and kissed the back of her hand before gently letting go. He gave her a bow, looking up at her and smiling. "Thank you for your time, Zuri." He said, appreciating that she hadn't been awful despite clearly not being a fan of dancing or talking. He hoped that he was the worst partner she had that night - because it would mean that everyone else was more than tolerable for her. Perhaps there was someone whose company she would actually enjoy.

Like his sister, Cosmo had been paying attention to the other competition, just not as closely. He remembered that the little shit Vasu had arrived with a girl who was one of his next dance partners, a pretty little thing with blonde hair and a colorful dress. A quick glance at the notecard confirmed that she was his next partner. He found her departing from her dance with Raphael. The brunette gave the other boy a smile and a tilt of his head before walking up to Sasha, who was rather short in comparison to him.

"You must be Sasha," He greeted, putting a hand on his chest. "I'm Cosmo Winter. May I?" He asked, the hand going from his chest out towards Sasha, to take her hand. When she took it he led her to the dance floor, noticing the music was a little more upbeat than the last song. Who was in charge of this playlist? They had no idea how actual parties worked, that was for sure.

"I couldn't help but notice that you are classmates with Vasu," Cosmo said with barely disguised distaste. He gave Sasha a smile, as if to say it had nothing to do with her. "He and I go back a little bit, actually. He and my sister were friends once upon a time. Are you and him close?" He asked, figuring that if she was shy like Zuri had been, that maybe talking about a mutual would help open her up to further conversation. It would be nice if she didn't like him either.



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secondary
location
ilvermorny
mood
fine
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click me~!
mentions
cosmo and lanre
zuri osei
Zuri was glad that Cosmo was willing to do the heavy lifting for their dance. She was sure that he was nice but she wasn't good at making any kind of talk and preferred to observe than contribute. She did her best to engage but knew that her answers were a little stiff and not well practiced unlike Aurelia who probably had an elegant answer for everything directed her way. Zuri just wasn't well spoken like that.

She said her farewells to Cosmo, feeling bad that she was the one who had to start out with someone so friendly and happy. He didn't seem affected by her but she still wished she'd been a little more likeable. Her second chance at being more pleasant came in the form of a boy with short black hair and an uneasy smile. Zuri knew right away that her second chance would likely be worse than her first dance. She didn't do well with shy or awkward people because she herself was shy and awkward.

"That's me." Zuri said, looking him up and down. "Nice suit."

Is that really my best attempt?

She grabbed his hand as if they'd known each other their whole lives and brought him out to where she had been dancing with Cosmo. She grabbed onto him similarly to how she had danced with him, only beginning to move once Lanre had moved too. After the longest twenty five seconds of her life, it became painfully obvious that neither of them were very good dancers. She smiled at it. "You're hating this as much as I am, right? Are we quite possibly the worst dancers here?" She asked, trying to poke fun at their predicament.
coded by natasha.


secondary
location
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mood
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click me~!
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raphael and cosmo
sasha golubev
Sasha's dance with Raphael was a nice one. He wasn't the best dancer, but she wasn't either and they had good conversation. They talked about the houses they got sorted into and she dumped a little bit of information on him that he soaked up eagerly. After their talk he respectfully said his goodbyes and Sasha was left to look for her next partner alone. She watched as a dark haired beauty approached him, strolling over in a light green dress and a white wrap. She looked like she was made for the spotlight and Sasha felt like she was more suited for the background. She was comfortable in her skin but she didn't like any kind of attention which was made obvious from her stage fright that Vasu had to help her through.

A handsome brunette that she later put together was the pretty girl's brother walked up to her and greeted her. "I am and you may." She said with a shy smile, accepting his offered hand. He led her back out and she noticed with dread that the music changed to what sounded suspiciously like pop music. Sasha struggled to find moves that worked but followed Cosmo's lead.

His question caught her off guard but her face lit up when his fell. "We aren't close but I wish we were closer." She admitted. "All in all he's not bad. Are he and your sister close?" She asked after recalling how loudly Clara had clapped for him even though they were technically enemies for the time being.

coded by natasha.
 







Ricardo

Castelobruxo Secondary







Mood:


Nervous






Location:


Ilvermorny






Outfit:


Click me!







Interactions:


Clara and Ramona










Ricky was careful in how he danced with Clara physically but it didn't matter based off of how aggressively she ripped away from him. As if he had burned her. He grimaced and tried to hide the heart break with a smile. Her words stung and he knew she had said them to bite him. She succeeded. He deserved it but he didn't want it. He wanted her back. He wanted things to go back to how they were before. Watching her walk away to Raphael with a big smile as if she was elated to get away from him hurt. When she was faced away from him he let his smile drop and it revealed a fraction of the agony he was in. Raphael took her hand and she smiled and it was the worst thing Ricky had seen so far.

He needed to focus on getting through the night and he wouldn't get that done by staring at Clara all night. Doing that alone anyway. He had no intention of letting her out of his sight. His next partner was an Ilvermorny student named Ramona so he set about finding her. It was easy to find her afro in the large mass of kids on the dance floor. He walked over to her at a leisurely pace and smiled. "Are you Ramona? I'm Ricardo. I'm looking for my next dance partner." He explained.




 


  • Professor Birger Einar
    Durmstrang - Male - Pureblood - History of Magic Professor


    Standing to the side as the music played Einar watched the dancers glide across the floor and chat with one another. The social aspect of this event seemed to come easier to some than others but that was to be expected. No to trees were the same, they grew and branched in different ways, some with stronger roots, others with higher branches. It was the same for these students. They all had their strengths and weaknesses, some were more carefree and clearly there to have fun, others more reserved from a need to observe or social anxiety or something else altogether. Einar wasn’t one to judge. When he was young he had easily taken over any room he entered through either his looks, charm, or the strength of his voice.

    There was only one time in his youth that he could remember entering a room and not turning heads and that was the day he met Alva. All eyes had been on her, his own included, as the raven-haired beauty pulled all the air out of the room with the fires of life that burned in her eyes. While other men might have been ogling her figure, Einar was swept away by the soul he could see within the depths of her gaze. It was a soul like a galaxy, it held secrets, adventure, mystery and he wanted to explore it all. He wanted to know her soul and become that lone adventurer who would brave the wilds of this woman's heart and mind because he knew in their depths he would find home. Oh, how the two of them had danced that night. He could still remember how perfectly she fit into his arms. How when others came to take her away she smiled, rolled her eyes, and said she needed to keep him in line which was a full-time job. They had only just met and yet it felt as though their souls had been linked for a thousand lifetimes, intertwined and with a bond that they both knew would be unbreakable. Even now he can feel that bond, years after her soul was forced from her flesh he can still feel its gentle caress against his.

    Though he did not realize it Einar was gently swaying to the music and only once it changed did he find himself stopping and blinking. For a moment he caught the phantom scent of honey and cinnamon, the scent of Alva, but as fast as it was there it vanished. The tempo of the music began to pick up to something far more modern and Einar chuckled as he watched the student's energy spark to life. This was for them after all, it only made sense that the music should reflect what their generation might listen to. He wasn’t some old geezer who hated modern music but he did have to admit he was unfamiliar with the song. A smile pulled at the corners of his lips though as he spotted Clara and Cosmo finding their next dance partners. He kept a close eye on the twins, not for fear that they might do something wrong but in the hopes of preserving this memory of them.

    As figures stepped and spun to the beat of the new song Einar noticed every student seemed to be partnered up aside from a lone figure at the edge of the crowd. "Well, that simply won't do." The old man stated to himself with his cane tapping along at his every step as he politely approached the young girl. "Pardon me, but I couldn't help noticing the dance floor was short a single star. I know I may not be what you hoped in a dance partner but would you honor me with a dance?" He asked with a warm, nurturing tone as he bowed in greeting and held his hand out. If this were his daughter or granddaughter he would never want her to stand alone while others had fun so he certainly wouldn't stand by and watch her miss out on this bit of entertainment if he could do something to prevent it.



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KIARA SINCLAIRE
BEAUXBATONS SECONDARY
Guarded and mildly overwhelmed
Ilvermorny Grand Hall - Dance Floor
Odinson and Theo
Click Me!
You know… my patronus is a Hungarian Horntail
“Mine’s a Norwegian Ridgeback!” Kiara’s sapphire eyes lit up with delight at the memory of her beloved Nemo. About six months ago, an auror from the french ministry of magic had shown up to her family’s sanctuary with a young Norwegian Ridgeback. Barely yet a month old, his mother had been slaughtered by poachers, leaving little Nemo (as Kiara had named him) orphaned. The poor beast had yet to grow into his wings and was still having quite a bit of trouble actually getting off the ground at his young age, but he had always seemed so determined to take to the sky. Kiara had fed him from a bottle until he was old enough to start devouring the raw meat customary of his diet. Just thinking about him now made her chest ache with homesickness.

But as she was about to tell Odinson about her little winged friend, the instrumental music began to fade, the musicians rising and taking their leave as more came to replace them with different instruments. The beaming smile that had graced Kiara’s lips just moments ago dimmed almost to the point of a frown. She was disappointed that her dance with Odinson had ended so soon, and resigned that she would have to find him again later so they could share more dragon stories.

I hope to see you again, madam. It was my distinct pleasure being your partner.

“The pleasure was mine” she bowed her head and curtsied softly in one fluid movement. “Good luck tonight, Odinson.” She gave him one last reassuring smile, reaching out her hand to give his a soft squeeze before turning to face her next partner, who had certainly not been shy about cutting in, waiting impatiently to her left.

“Good evening, Ms. Sinclair. My name is Th-”

“I know who you are.” Kiara said casually, surprised by her own flippancy as Theo took her hand, gently pressing his lips against the back of it. Her features had darkened ever so slightly. “You made quite the entrance back there.” Her tone carried a hint of detachment as she recounted the green explosives he had launched towards unsuspecting crowd members in a chaotic display of defiance. She had yet to form any concrete opinions on most of her competitors, but despite the fact that she had barely spoken two words to him, something about Theodore West left a sour taste in her mouth.

“Wasn’t that the point? To make an impression?” a smug grin tugged at his lips evidencing that her mild distaste for him was only fueling his fire, satiating whatever craving for attention he was harboring. Without waiting for any formal cues, Theo slipped his hand around Kiara’s waist, tugging her closer to him before clasping her left hand in his own. There was a gap of perhaps two inches between Kiara’s face and Theo’s, and for the first time she was able to really take in his facial features. He was handsome by all means, a distinctly sharp jawline and chocolatey brown eyes, thick dark hair and broad, muscular shoulders granting him all the pillars of traditional good looks. But Kiara also got the notion that he knew he was attractive, which made her resent the fact.

By the time the music began she let out a grateful exhale of breath, hoping that she wouldn’t have to entertain any further conversations with him while they focused on their choreographed steps. However, only about thirty seconds of uninterrupted dancing ensued before Theo spoke again, “I’d always heard the students at Beauxbatons were more attractive than most… but you are… impressive.” He sounded like a butcher assessing a prized cut of meat which only aggravated Kiara further as he lifted his arm to twirl her underneath.

“I take it you’re used to getting what you want, Mr. West?”

A soft laugh left Theo’s lips, “...usually.” He admitted, a shred of pride lingering in his voice as he dipped Kiara towards the ground, his lips almost brushing against the skin of her neck as he finished. “Don’t worry, Sinclaire. I can tell when my efforts are unwelcomed.”

A warm blush painted its way up to her cheeks as he lifted her back up from the dip, their eyes locking for one more moment before the music finally drew to a close. She was shocked, if not impressed, by his audacity, and decided rather quickly that she didn’t particularly want to cross paths with him again. “Thank you for the dance, Mr. West. Now if you’ll excuse me, I… need a drink.”
coded by natasha.
 
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  • lisandro valencia
    castelobruxo champion

    A
    urelia’s assessment of the competition was fair, as they had barely met many of their competitors. Though Lis was hoping for some insight from her, perhaps he could seek it out later, after they’d all had some time to mingle. It wasn’t that he necessarily trusted her or knew much of her judgment, just that she seemed smart and socially aware of things. Not that Lis hadn’t picked up on some things. He saw a bit of the tension between Clara and Ricky (though that didn’t take a genius to see), perhaps even Clara and her brother.

    The thing Lis noticed most was just how big a lot of these personalities were. It seemed like a lot of these people were really trying to one-up each other, and he didn’t know, if he was chosen, how he could possibly measure up to them. He was one of the best in the dueling club at Castelobruxo, but that didn’t mean he had the showmanship or boldness that many of his peers seemingly had. He felt like he’d be lucky if he survived.

    “Honestly, good luck to whoever the champions are,” Lis finally said. “Everyone’s a bit intimidating already.”

    As the gentle music ended and they stepped back from one another, Lis nodded towards Auri. “Good luck to you too!”

    He’d meant to leave Auri with a better closing statement, but she’d rushed off to her next dance and Lis was left to look around for his next dance. Gavriel Sylvie. He thought he remembered her – the girl with the wild colored hair, one of the Ilvermorny students. He remembered seeing her on the edge of the crowd as they were all sorted – she’d intrigued him, as any of the more alternative-looking students had. He was pulled towards them, kids he’d used to avoid due to weird notions his mother had about dyed hair and piercings. Perhaps they would get along.

    Lis thought that he’d be less anxious about his second dance, but he’d sort of known Auri. Gavy was new and it seemed like she was one of those competitors with a big personality. Would she find him bland? He knew he was pressuring himself, focusing on making things just so, but it’s what he found himself doing whenever the situation was out of his control. If he could just control himself, it would make things easier… At least, that is what he told himself. In reality, it just made him more tense, made things harder than they had to be.

    In the few moments between dances, he told himself to take some deep breaths and count to five. The bustling of people around him, plus the band on stage, was loud in his ears and he wanted to turn his hearing aids down, but it would make conversation a bit difficult and he felt like he was struggling to keep up as it was. The noise put him on edge – big noises tended to overwhelm him quickly, but he was trying to keep it together so he didn't embarrass himself. Though he knew the goal was to be memorable, he hoped it wouldn't be because he got too overstimulated during the dance, before the Goblet of Fire even announced the champions. He was just calming down when he saw a flash of colored hair and followed it to find Gavriel. In her iridescent dress and bright hair, she was radiant.

    He bowed to her respectfully. “Gavriel? I believe we are dance partners next. Lisandro, but you can call me Lis.”

    He held his hand out for her to take, feeling a bit awkward. His words felt a bit empty, a script he felt like he would follow with all of his dances. Hi, I’m Lis. Let’s dance? He felt too formal and stiff, wishing he knew a smoother, less clunky way of introducing himself. At his mother’s dances, she would often introduce him to the girls she wanted him to dance with, dragging him along and forcing him to be social. Here’s my son, Lis, please dance with him, he is hopeless.

    At this point, he was already ready for the dancing part of the evening to be over with, ready to reconvene with Ricky and maybe play some of his games, even though Lis was dreadful at them. Losing to Ricky all evening would be better than reliving his mother's dances.

    As the music swelled, he took Gavy by the hand and hesitantly touched her waist, preparing for another boring trudge through your typical classical fare. However, what played instead was an old muggle pop song, one that Lis actually recognized. Though he wasn’t well-versed in *all* muggle culture, music was one of those where a lot of the muggles were just… better. This didn’t make Lis know how to ballroom dance to it though. It was slow, but it wasn’t something he’d ever danced to formally before, so this caused him to take a long pause before following Gavy’s movements in the dance.

    He chuckled, trying to play off the awkwardness like it was nothing, but feeling a bit embarrassed by his rudimentary dance moves. His mother had made sure he knew how to ballroom dance, but any other dances felt foreign to his body, so he felt a bit like a fish flopping around trying to do anything else. He hoped it didn’t look that bad, the small sway in his hips and arms.

    “Sorry, I don’t dance very often. Do you like this song?”




    location:
    the dance floor




    interaction:
    Aurelia and Gavy Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1




    feeling:
    mildly embarassed

 


  • Gavriel Sylvie
    Ilvermorny - Female - Half-Blood - Champion


    Lis found Gavy just as she was beginning to wonder towards the edge of the crowd to see if she could score a snack or two. The evening had just begun but she was already starving and the little platters of food looked absolutely mouth-watering and she could only imagine how they smelled. Tearing her attention away from the table hidden behind the crowd she turned to the young man and smiled, a genuine chuckle laced into her voice as she spoke. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Lis! You can call me Gavy!” She beamed and glanced back at the food before shaking her head and taking his offered hand. “Two seconds later and I might have not had enough hands to dance, I mean did you see the size of some of those brownies?” She stated casually as she glided back to the dance floor with Lis at her side.

    Without making it obvious she took in the young man before her from his embroidered blue and white suit to the way he carried himself. He seemed like someone who could live within his head, good or bad, and knew how to carefully select what he wanted to say. That was only registered by how formally he spoke during their initial gathering. It was a skill Gavy didn’t really possess as she tended to say whatever came to mind first but it was something she could appreciate in another. As per usual Gavy remained true to herself and did her best to try and make the dance enjoyable for both of them. As the tune of the song changed her eyes grew bright neon with delight and she felt the lyrics shoot straight to her soul where this song lived rent-free. “You are doing great, dance how you feel you don’t need to impress me.” She purred playfully towards the young man and gave him a friendly wink. “I adore this song so much! Have you heard it before? My sister used to play it for me-” She suddenly realized how that sentence would end and instantly an invisible hand settled over her lips. That was not something to bring up, not now, not ever, and certainly not to a stranger. She didn’t know exactly how she had almost slipped but she played it off by pretending to be distracted and singing along to the lyrics. “So Lis, what music do you listen to? Anything I would know?” She inquired as she spun away then back towards him like an iridescent ballerina.

    The rest of the dance Gavy drifted from topic to topic, going with the easy flow of conversation as though she had known Lis for quite a while rather than a few minutes. “You’ve got some great moves, remind me to take you dancing sometimes.” She gently bumped his shoulder in a friendly manner as she spoke. “If you get a chance to sneak some food just remember what I said about the brownies.” She added as the duo split off once again to find their next dance partners. Before Lis could get too far she reached out and grabbed his hand, “Seriously, you are doing great and that suit looks killer on you. You really own it.” She assured him with a nod before letting go and disappearing into the crowd.

    Glancing at her dance card the smile on her glossy lips only grew as she recognized the name. Tearing her mult-shaded gaze across the room she looked for the blonde she had spent much of the train ride sharing snacks and stories with. After a heartbeat, she spotted Raph a few heads away from her and bounced forward excitedly. “Bonjour étranger! On dirait que ma prochaine danse t'appartient!” She greeted him in French, slipping into the accent as naturally as she did when it came to having an American accent while speaking English. She was about to place her hand in his when out of the corner of her eye she spotted what looked to be a professor stepping away from a student, the two having just finished a dance together. “Does she not have a partner?” Gavy found herself wondering aloud. “One second Raph, I’ll be right back!” She called over her shoulder and darted off towards the young woman. “Hey Snowbell! Come dance with us!” She smiled as she approached the young stranger and held out her hand to the girl. She had no doubt that Raph would welcome the stranger so they could all dance together, he didn’t seem like the type to care about sticking to dance cards. “I don’t bite…much.” She added with a chuckle and a playful wink.

    Translation of her sentence (I do not speak French but I did my best): Hello stranger! Looks like my next dance belongs to you!



    Mentions: Lis irregular-neptune irregular-neptune Raph captaindanger captaindanger Malaika Wolfiee Wolfiee



    TEMPLATE © BOKEH
 








Raphael

Beauxbatons Champion







Mood:


Pumped






Location:


Ilvermorny






Outfit:


Click me!







Interactions:


Clara and Gavy










Raphael smiled and took Clara's hand. They began to dance after he told her "I don't fancy anything other than good company. I'm not much of a dancer." He must have looked like a liar once the song started though because she was smiling and looking like she approved of his moves. He didn't know how to do the slower stuff but dancing freely was more his style. He did a few silly moves that made her laugh and it made his heart warm at having made her smile. They made short but polite conversation that Raphael did his best to keep up with. He knew she was smart by the way she spoke and casually used bigger words than he knew how to spell but her intelligence was far above his. She didn't look like she spoke his language but she was talking to him as if was her first language. It was jarring.

He thought their dance ended too soon, and when she left to find her next dance partner Raphael was relieved to see Gavy approaching him. He grinned cheekily at her proper French and performed a low bow. He followed where her pretty eyes had landed and saw she was looking at a girl who was standing alone. "I dunno. You should invite her over." He suggested. Raphael knew what it was like to be left out of events and he felt bad for the girl standing alone. If she danced with him and Gavy then his bad dance moves wouldn't matter. Gavy approved of the idea (or she had it herself before he said anything) and he watched as Gavy walked over and asked the girl to join them.
















Ricardo

Castelobruxo Secondary







Mood:


Nervous






Location:


Ilvermorny






Outfit:


Click me!







Interactions:


Ramona










Ricky didn't approve of the next song being a pop one. Slower music at least had rules and he wasn't sure how to move to the faster paced music. Ramona didn't look like she cared how she was perceived but her movements were made comfortably. He mimicked her motions and was appreciative of her showing him a few moves that would help him through the song and maybe a few more to follow.

"Between you and me there are a few familiar faces here that I'm happy to see." He answered as his eyes landed on Clara across the way. She was dancing with the boy he had met earlier. Both of them were smiling and laughing. If she looked his way he didn't see it but thought she wouldn't anyway. Something painful wrapped around his heart and squeezed tightly. He had no right to be jealous and hurt but he was. She looked so fucking happy and he hated that he wasn't the one to make her glow like how she was.

"I'm hoping to reconnect with them." Ricky looked back to Ramona. He smiled at her a little sadly. "Seeing the other schools will be cool too. I don't really travel. My dad does, but for work."




 
d844a7bf2f8771ddd043a4a75cae8174.jpg


Chahaya “Cha-Cha” Arif // “Magnificent Bastard” // Male // Age 32 // Castelobruxo Professor // Legilimens
​
When Cha-Cha finished, Kazimir met his gaze with sad, hooded eyes and so much sincerity he could have been a picture of a saint on a confessional wall. His former classmate’s voice dripped with so much sympathy that it sent a stab of annoyance through Cha-Cha. He didn’t want pity. He hated being looked at like a kicked puppy and wondered whether Kazimir would look at him like that if he’d seen Cha-Cha’s hands stained with the blood of one of the Wizengamot judges. If he’d sensed the pleasure he’d taken in the murder of one of the men responsible for a laboratory of child Obscurials. Cha-Cha leaned back in his seat, away from the other professor, and coolly crossed his arms. “Don’t look at me like that. I did it to myself, you know.” The look in his eyes was as cold as frost and curses, his mouth a narrow slash. Not for the first time, the conclusion that he’d rather be seen as a villain than as a victim surfaced in his head, and the wine only seemed to amplify it. That way he was at least the architect of his own demise and any misfortune he incurred was a consequence of his own free choices. Cha-Cha’s mother had adorned herself as a painted lady on a street corner, when really she’d been a slave to other people’s bad desires.
Love isn’t real, she’d once told him after a man had left the house. It’s just a fancy word for people using each other, and sometimes it ends up being to mutual gain. Endah didn’t look at him as she spoke; she stood before the long, watermarked mirror at her vanity that she still hadn’t scrounged the money to replace, removing her soulless-black eyeliner. Love yourself, Chaya. Don’t depend on others for it because you may never get it.
If Kazimir was bothered by Cha-Cha’s reprimand, he didn’t show it. His only visible response was for his mouth to sag at the corners a little, but such an expression was par for his course. The Russian man reassured him that he didn’t care what the Ilvermorny professors thought of his choice of company. Of course you don’t, Cha-Cha thought wryly, lips curling into a pirate’s smile. He briefly felt tempted to listen in—what Cha-Cha called it when he verified the congruence of an individual’s words with their thoughts, but he refrained. Perhaps Kazimir was just telling him what he wanted to hear, but so what if he was? Cha-Cha didn’t feel particularly threatened by the potential for deception from his former Quidditch rival, whom he still remembered as a gangly teen with a fondness for scratchy-looking wool sweaters. He was just idly curious as to why this ghost from his past would alienate a whole school’s faculty on one ex-con’s behalf. And amused.
“‘Hell is empty and all the devils are here,’” Cha-Cha recited mildly. “The Tempest, Act One, Scene Two. Sometimes I question Shakespearean logic—like why all the women commit suicide when their likely adulterous husbands die—but I think he was spot-on with that one.” Kazimir leaned back in his seat and regarded Cha-Cha skeptically over the rim of his rocks glass, as if he found this comment peculiar and was uncertain how to respond. It’s better than downright reproach, I guess. I’m moving up in the world, Cha-Cha thought optimistically. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Kazimir was segueing, gently accepting Cha-Cha’s offer to leave him to his brandy. “Of course,” Cha-Cha said compliantly, understanding that Kazimir wanted to be alone. Or at least rid of Cha-Cha’s company. He leaned forward in his chair, took a parting sip from his wine glass, and slowly unfurled to his feet in the unhurried manner of the comfortably tipsy. “Do sleduyash— do sleduyuch— oh, do sledu-whatever-the-fuck until next time, moy drug,” Cha-Cha said in a sloppy attempt at Russian. What a slow, cumbersome language, Russian was, where every other word was three syllables too many. God help you if you’re in a hurry.
With a move of surprising nimbleness, Cha-Cha sidestepped a passing House Elf carrying a mostly empty cocktail tray and plopped his half-full glass on it before he could rethink the decision, tempted as he was to finish it off. He scanned the dance floor where pairs of adolescents swayed with various degrees of grace, having had no clear plan of action when he left Kazimir. Behind him lurked the antagonistic group of rumormongers, so that wasn’t an option. And as Cha-Cha had informed Erin Joyce, the Hogwarts professor, he didn’t dance. Nor did he have a partner, so changing his mind wasn’t an option. He saw old man Einar lingering by the punch bowl on the fringes of the room. Not wanting to just stand in the center of the room, idle, and not seeing a better opportunity to busy himself, Cha-Cha drifted in that direction, slowly, keeping one eye out for other diversions and ready to switch on a dime if one presented itself.
He combed the assemblage of dancers for Ricky and Lisandro. The former was smiling at a tall black girl in a juniper-green suit, extending his hand for a dance. Meanwhile, a white girl with a galactic-purple gown was twirling into Lis, who appeared as though he was just holding his arm up on command while she did all the work. Cha-Cha studied his two proteges, reading the tense angle of Lis’s shoulders, how Ricky’s eyes occasionally strayed over his partner’s shoulder as if he were searching the crowd for someone else. Lis reminded him of a restless, knobbly-jointed foal being trained for the races, knocking about in the starting gate in a fit of nerves. Both of them looked young and vulnerable. Cha-Cha wondered whether he had looked as young and vulnerable at age seventeen when he’d competed at Mahoutokoro several lifetimes ago. Back when he’d had a stepfather, a unicorn hair wand, and significantly fewer scars and tattoos.
Every minute of preparation leading up to the tournament, his strategy had never been to turn Lis and Ricky into winners. Rather, he’d visualized his role more as a caregiving, protective one, to mentor and guide the boys as the tournament tested their magical abilities and mental strength. To teach them all they’d need to know to advance. And above that, selfishly, the routine sameness of teaching the same classes year after year at Castelobruxo had been beginning to grate on Cha-Cha. He’d wanted to escape it, and there wasn’t much better opportunity than a year-long, most-expenses-paid trip around the world that he got to share with his students. Since he wasn’t a champion this time around, the prospect of winning hadn’t appealed to him half as much as adventuring. There was just… so much work to be done where Lis and Ricky were concerned. He wasn’t totally convinced that either of them stood a fighting chance against the Animagi of Uagadou, the half-giant of Mahoutokoro, the Beauxbatons Quidditch Cup winner, or the Durmstrang e-girl with her obsessive collection of notes preserved like treasures dug up from the ocean floor.
But people were afraid of Cha-Cha on account of what he could do, even though his Legilimency was nowadays a little-used limb with the exception of pedagogical purposes. By extension, they would likely be afraid of his students. He could use that to his advantage. There was a lot of work to be done if he was to turn Lis and Ricky into victors, but Cha-Cha enjoyed a challenge. And he’d have his hands full with this one. He needed a strategy. A plan that would mold them into real competitors. Due to their relation to him, Lis and Ricky would very likely get plenty of secondhand bad publicity in the papers. He owed them a real shot at the tournament. He wanted to give them that. And he would. Whatever it takes, he vowed silently, we’re in it to win.
An insidious thought, a bad idea disguised as something noble, seeped through him like a sweet drink, all the alcohol smothered by the taste of sugar. Oh, yes. Cha-Cha resisted the temptation to turn and find Marcello Bellini in the crowd. He had just the perfect first test for his proteges, made even better by the fact that they’d be pawns in the score that needed settling. That’s two birds with one stone, Cha-Cha thought, feeling wonderfully vile and horribly clever. He just needed to curb his enthusiasm until almost the end of the ceremony, and then he’d deploy his troops for battle.
Seeing Kazimir standing sentry by the punch bowl and refreshments table, Cha-Cha kept his distance. He hovered beside a stained-glass window that admitted a dusky glow from outside, but a chilly draft seeped through, penetrating the warm haze of alcohol. A figure in a parchment off-white suit peeled off, revealing a woman with long anthracite hair and a loose-fitting blue-and-bronze dress standing alone. Cha-Cha recognized her as the woman with the heavy Southern accent who’d been seated across from him at the professors’ table during the student introductions. Their eyes connected for half a heartbeat before she remembered to look away, and Cha-Cha recalled how she’d avoided his gaze earlier.
He’d had just enough wine that he was feeling smart and talkative and good-looking. And the curious glance he’d caught her stealing at him only spurred his resolve. That’s right, I am that bad motherfucker you’ve heard about, he thought in response. Nowadays, Cha-Cha generally pursued men more than women, but this Southern belle was exceptionally pretty and mysterious enough to pique his interest. And every rule had an exception. Not one to sit around and wait for opportunities to fall into his lap, Cha-Cha stole along the perimeter of the room, pausing only when the dark-haired woman locked wide eyes on him and stiffened, as if her impulse was to bolt. He watched her war between desires from afar. Then, finally, her shoulders eased down from where they were scrunched around her ears, and she dipped her chin in the slightest of nods, inviting his approach. He obliged her, moving more slowly this time, as if she were a spooked horse.
Her eyes were the bottomless blue of a maelstrom. Cha-Cha did nothing but stare into them for a heartbeat before he spoke, maintaining a respectful arm’s length between this majestic creature and himself. He cleared his throat. “Solitude doesn’t become one so lovely,” he began. “Please allow me to fix that. May I have this dance, Ms…?” he trailed off with a meaningful upward inflection, politely seeking the name of his hopeful dance partner.
 




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    I'm sorry I wasn't there when you were little. I would have iced the bruises on your back.

    - Written about Ramona​






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Lanre broke into laughter at Zuri's bluntness, finding it refreshing and a relief that both of them were painfully aware at how terrible they were at dancing. And why were they dancing like this for a pop song? At least they were having fun with it; his movements became loose once she pointed it out, which in turn made their dancing look a little more natural, even if it wasn't actually appropriate for the song. "We definitely are," he replied, still smiling widely at the fair girl before him. "But hey, at least it's us together instead of us doing these movements alone. Can you imagine how much worse it would be if I was just dancing with an empty space like this?"

The rest of their dance went more comfortably. As nice as it had been to dance with Naomi, the upbeat of the song he'd been dancing with Zuri for made for more relaxed movements and he didn't have to give as much thought to what he did with his body. Zuri still looked a little uncomfortable, but he hoped that the occasional goofy move he tossed out would help make her feel better about her own. He wasn't sure where the boldness came from since he was typically a shy guy but if it made her comfortable, it was worth it. He had seen other students begin to do the same thing, and he wondered if the song served as a 'break' for the traveling students who didn't like dancing. It had sure felt like one for him.

His next partner was a girl named Sasha. Zuri had mentioned that it was someone she had noticed earlier, and she was kind enough to point her out in the crowd. When the music ended and switched to the next song, he approached the girl. Lanre felt much more nervous about her than the others - this one was pretty to a dangerous level, and she radiated kindness that he couldn't comprehend. It was intimidating, but not in a bad way. He could tell that she was friendly and a little shy like he was. "Hi, I'm Lanre." He said, attempting a smile that didn't show all of his nerves. "You look great - would you like to dance?"



/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */
© weldherwings.






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  • /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
    I changed. It's hard for me to know who I was before all of this. I molded myself into a pretender. Now, every other version of me feels fake.

    - Written about herself​






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Amity had just escaped another conversation when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Instinctively, her mental walls went up, her occulency abilities quickly flashing to guard her mind. Realizing that the person - if anyone - was trying to pry into her mind, they would have flinched physically at the intensity of her barriers, she glanced over, unfortunately meeting the gaze of none other than Cha-Cha himself. She stiffened, realizing that he was headed to her and that they hadn't simply accidentally made such strong eye contact. She couldn't quite avoid whatever was coming her way, and after a moment, she decided to play along. She gave him a warm smile, an eyebrow shooting up as he hesitated before speaking to her.

He doesn't recognize me, She realized, thankful that her new persona was crafted to be a warm and vibrant one. Her beam was real, perhaps a little too eager for someone she had avoided minutes ago to have asked her for a dance. She put her hand in his as way of answering 'yes', eyes studying him with concentrated curiousity. Would it be dangerous to tell him myself? Is it better to keep up the lie? And since when do you dance?

"Amity," She replied, no hesitation evident in her voice despite the way her mind was racing. She kept her occulency up, but at what she hoped was a more 'normal' level. She was exceptionally good at the ancient magic, but keeping it up to where she was confident that nobody could break in meant that it would raise his flags; after all, Cha-Cha was good at its challenger, legilimency magic. Even giving him a challenge was risky enough, but so was letting herself accidentally bleed on him with her memories of their past history together. "Amity Monroe. I must say, should you need protection from the delightful company that is Marcello, I promise that I have no intentions of lighting you aflame when you are already a smokeshow of your own." She teased, hoping that her guess that Cha-Cha just needed a friend or a laugh would be the right one. She had seen how the D.A.D.A professor had tried to provoke Cha-Cha earlier; and how before then, a student in a dark maroon suit had nearly broken his eardrums on stage.

As unnerving as it was to see a familiar face without having had time to beg for his alliance, seeing him was more welcome than most of the other people she'd known back when she was still Elizabeth Briar Starling. They had been quite the pair back in the days where Cha-Cha was working off his Azkaban sentence. While she had been professionally polite with him, she had taken a slow but deep liking to him. She liked that he couldn't read her mind and she liked to think that he liked that she didn't care enough to pry into his. Their trust had built slowly, though with how Ellie (now Amity) had been during the peak of her abuse from Keaton, it was highly possible that Cha-Cha thought she didn't like her at all. And perhaps for a while she hadn't. He was the reason she had to lie about her identity, the reason she'd been forced to work like a K-9 dog for her shitty ex husband. Plus, he was a criminal for very good reason. But over time her resentment for her situation transformed. She liked how blunt and honest he could be when he wanted to be, how he could craft his words so scathingly and elegantly. How he had the power to make a room more colorful or walk away from it taking all the color with him.

It was a damn shame that she would probably not be able to have a real friendship with him, especially once she figured out a way to blackmail him.

"I hope I don't look like much of a dancer, because I'm not one," She warned, the heavy bass of Lorde's song drumming in her ears. "I'm more the type to drink until I forget that I can't dance." She wondered what the consequences would be of randomly making her hand cold and brushing her hand against the back of his neck at the end of their dance, but deciding that Amity should probably secure even the smallest amount of allyship before she pranked him, she refrained despite how easily it would have been to follow up with 'you're lucky I'm used to putting out your fires'.


/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */
© weldherwings.
 
Malaika Odion
Uagadou Secondary
IIvermorny
Mix of feelings
outfit here
interactions

Einar, Gavy Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1 Raph captaindanger captaindanger

There was something magical yet sad about watching others dancing the night away. A look of longing filled soft blue eyes as she watched the dancers with their partners. The only saving grace was thankfully her face was mostly hidden by her mask so no one could fully see the disappointment of not having a single dance partner upon her face. Her long white hair had been styled lying straight down her back with two braids within the hair to give the hair a bit more of a fancy look. She was tempted to leave who would they be to stop her when they had forgotten to give her a dance partner card. Just as her feet were about to carry her away a voice kind yet sturdy like an oak spoke to her breaking into her thoughts with ease. Mal looked at first a cane then a man attached to said cane an older gentleman who looked rather dapper in his suit.

A soft warmth spread through her as she was unaccustomed to any type of fatherly or grandfatherly love. There was hesitation as a flicker of fear filled her momentarily. Was this another trick like years ago? She had trusted her father and that had led to nothing but utter pain. A shaky breath left her as she gazed into the kind eyes of Einar before smiling softly.”I would like that very much. Also I think you will be a lovely partner, don't sell yourself short.”she said kindly before taking his offered hand. She followed him out onto the dance floor allowing him to take the lead. Their hands would find the correct position before beginning to move with the music yet also dancing at their own rhythm. She would never forget this kindness nor would she forget that there were still kind men in the world. Her eyes watered for a moment as realization hit her this was technically her first father daughter dance or as close as she would ever get to one. As their dance started coming to an end her voice soft yet quavering lightly from emotion spoke once more. “Thank you very much for the dance. It..it meant a lot more to me than you’ll ever know.”she said gently to him. Then she spotted another young lady who seemed to be off to the side.”I think someone else requires you now.”she said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before moving back off to the side.

She was about to watch the dancers again before another voice cut into her thoughts. This time an eyebrow raised at being called a snowball she wasn’t sure if she should be amused or offended. She went with amused as the girl seemed to be inviting her to dance with her and as she followed the blonde's gaze at her partner. “Well if you both are sure and trust me I can bite back.”she said with her own amused laugh. Since everyone knew most students from Uagadou were animagi. Malaika followed after her so she could join both her and Raph.”I’m Malaika. Could I get the names of my kidnappers.”she teased them both listening as a new song seemed to be starting up.

coded by natasha.
 
TOM WELLING ON HIS WEDDING DAY JUL 5, 2002 #2 -CROP-1 (DAVID MAX PHOTOGRAPHER).jpeg
Odinson LocJaw
"The Young Giant"
Mood: A mix of Irritated and Excited Year: Ten Location: Ilvermorny Role: Champion Outfit: Click me!

Mind if I cut in?

The voice came from a young boy, around Odinsons age, who seemed to have no interest in Odinson at all. "That is the way the dance moves; is it not?" He questioned in response, his teeth shining in the light of the ballroom floor. In his mind Odinson was far past irritated, but he payed no mind to that, he was even more so intrigued. The young man who was standing before him heald a look in his eye thar was all too familiar. One that Odinson had seen many times before; perhaps in an old acquaintance? Maybe himself? Who knew. All that mattered to Odinson in that moment was who in the hell this boy was. Though before he could ask his thoughts were cut short by another person whom intrigued him, Kiara Sinclaire.

The pleasure was mine. Good luck tonight.

She had squeezed his hand in a reassuring way as she spoke, it must have worked because his already overflowing ale which heald his confidence began flowing like a river. "Same to you, ma'am. I wish you the best." He said with a bow, moving so that the boy could take his place as her partner. Though as soon as he turned around there was yet another girl asking his name, one with hair the color of cherry blossoms and movements likened to the same; as if she were the droplets of rain as they hit the water.

Odinson LocJaw?

"Yes. That me." He answered, still baffled by how swift yet smooth the young girls movements were. Though quickly coming to his senses as she arose from her bow.

My name is Naomi Hai-De Vries, it is a pleasure to meet you.

"And the same to you, mademoiselle." The young giant said with a smile and a look In his eyes that said he was nothing less than intrigued.

As the music started Odinson took Naomi by the waste and planted his palm in her own, curling his fingers well around her hand. "You know- In norse mythology it is often believed that the gods love to party." Odinson said, his eyes fixated at the ceiling and the walls in the ballroom as they danced "Are you as the gods, mademoiselle? Do you love to dance, and party?" He asked, looking into the girls eyes with a large smile.

Mentions:
WanderLust. WanderLust. - Kiara and Theo (briefly)
Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1 - Naomi​
 
THEODORE WEST
HOGWARTS CHAMPION
Mischevious
Ilvermorny Grand Hall - Dance Floor
Clara pearjuice pearjuice
Click Me
There was a certain satisfaction in watching the Beauxbatons girl swiftly saunter away, her face that of an unwitting accomplice who had been forced to participate in some sort of heinous crime, as if dancing with Theo had been such a laborious and unwelcome task for her. He had had no intentions of letting her off as easily as he did, but upon his better judgment had decided it was likely best to pace himself in this competition lest he start collecting enemies before he’d yet made any allies. More often than not Theodore’s interactions with others were painted in his mind as a subtle competition. Every conversation had a winner and a loser and the young Hogwarts stud was used to coming out on top. His amber eyes remained fixated on the fluttering silken fabric of Kiara’s powder blue dress as she bordered the refreshments table, counting all of the ideas in his mind to make her blush like that again. There was a certain bliss to making a woman as admirable as that one flustered, and he had every intention of doing so repeatedly.

If he remembered correctly, and he was quite sure that he did, his next victim was the Durmstrang beauty, Clara Winter. He recounted their interaction earlier that day with slight fondness, at the very least she had seemed less intimidated by him than most of the other girls he’d conversed with that night. This should be interesting, he thought with mild intrigue. Lifting his head ever so slightly, Theo began to scan the collection of paired up dancers for the sage green dress he had seen Clara in earlier, though the shifting colored lights in Ilvermorny’s grand hall made it hard to discern the exact shades of the countless gowns that were fanning out on the dance floor like parading peacocks flaunting their feathers. He spotted her towards the left side of the room, a seemingly genuine smile pulling the edges of her lips upward as she laughed with the curly haired blonde boy from Beauxbatons, though her eyes continuously flicked past the shoulder of her partner as though something just behind him was catching her attention.

Theo kept his own gaze fixed on Clara as he stalked the outer edge of the dance floor. Taking the longer route to his next partner allowed him more time to figure out what in Merlin’s name she was staring at, and he was oh so curious as to what was capturing her attention. Following the angle of her gaze his eyes landed on the lanky, curly haired contestant from Castelobruxo, though for the life of him Theodore couldn’t remember the boy’s name. He couldn’t help the single eyebrow that arched upwards in surprise as he began fixing puzzle pieces together, his imagination filling in the blanks as he finally approached Clara, a playful, challenging grin gracing his features as he silently held out his hand. No point in bothering with the formalities, they had already been acquainted with one another. Her company, while mostly pleasant, was unpredictable so he was careful to keep his guard up as he spoke.

“Hello, stranger.” If Clara was displeased to see him, it wasn’t evident on her face, which he took as an invitation to lead her out onto the dance floor, his strides effortless yet practiced. Once they had arrived in a position that allowed them ample space for their choreographed steps, Theodore placed his hand firmly on Clara’s waist, no lower or higher than was necessary and clasped her left hand in his right. He was cautious to stay on his toes with this one, the way a hungry lion would give a wounded wildebeest a wide berth lest he be stampeded before he could make the killing blow. A lion without caution was a lion that didn’t eat.

A dry laugh escaped him as he caught a wary glimpse from Cosmo over Clara’s shoulder, his eyes the very image of his sisters though perhaps containing more disdain. “I don’t think your brother likes me very much.” he observed with a chuckle, raising his arm to twirl Clara underneath as the music swelled. He had never been particularly interested in dancing, but had learned it for the sake of formalities and possessed a firm understanding of the steps, enough to show he knew what he was doing anyways. His movements remained steadily in rhythm as he led Clara through every turn and dip without hesitation, leaning in closer when she spoke so that he might hear her over the music. The dark haired girl made a comment about Cosmo catching Theo’s gaze earlier by the carriages, insinuating it was the reason for her brother's evident distaste of him, and a dark laugh rumbled in his chest.

“I’m not entirely sure you can blame me for that one. Your dress fits you like a glove.” It was a compliment veiled in sweetness and honey though the tone of his voice made much darker allegations.
coded by natasha.
 




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    You are worth finding. Worth knowing. Worth loving. You and all your one million layers. I know you think yourself to be full of poems and rage but you are more than your anger. I miss the girl who was really happy.

    - Your big bro​






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Clara's dance with Raphael was entertaining if nothing else. Somehow they had gotten into playful banter that had started with her bragging that she was more dangerous than she looked and ended with them somehow deciding that at the end of the night, they would sneak out and duel to see who was really the better fighter. Raphael had insisted that he could take her down with one hit, which she openly laughed at. It was all in good fun, though the competitive edge was certainly there in both parties. It was a good enough distraction from Ricky, and when she turned to figure out who her next partner was, she realized it was Theo when he held out a hand for her. She met his grin with one of her own, if only to further piss off Ricky - though she was happy to see Theo again.

"A boy who gets straight to it; I like that." She purred, putting her hand in his and following him out. After they had talked a little bit on the train and realized they recognized each other, the rest of their small talk had gone smoother. Clara hadn't regarded him with the same suspicion she had with Cha-Cha, and had become a little more open because she felt Theo was more predictable. The first guy she'd encountered fed her on top of all the other strange nice things he'd done, and she couldn't trust someone who was so openly nice.

She didn't flinch or shy away when the brunette's hand found the dip in her waist, and as Theo talked, she chuckled, the sound light and melodic - unlike the other laughs she'd had so far in the night, this one was a real one that hadn't been forced. Raphael had loosened her up with his banter, and while Clara still regarded everyone with a moderate amount of suspicion, she thought that maybe, just for the night, she could avoid Ricky and enjoy the good mood everyone else was in before they really learned who she was. She could pretend for one night that she wasn't wicked.

"An admirable feat of yours," Clara praised after she suggested that Theo made her brother an enemy all on his own, twirling under his arm before returning her hand to his. "That oaf loves everyone. Not that he's much of a threat. I assure you, if you get a little alcohol in him or just acknowledge him with anything less than a glare, he will forget all about it." She could tell that Theo really didn't care one way or another, which she almost liked more than the toned and muscular form - almost. Theo was rather handsome, and for once her eyes didn't stray to glare at the back, side, or right at Ricky's face.

"You look like the forbidden fruit," She pointed out, giving him a slow look over before meeting his eyes again, her smile as dangerous as the allegations of his compliment had been. She was playing with fire, perhaps, but when wasn't she? "Perhaps we'll both get on my brother's bad side and be better for it."



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© weldherwings.





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    I don't understand muggle music. The 12 days of Christmas is completely unrealistic. There is no way that you're still accepting gifts from someone after 4 days of birds. Anyways, happy holidays. Don't forget my gift.
    - Yours truly​






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Cosmo tried not to so physically flinch as his own question was turned around on him. Family was always a hard topic, but talking about Vasu and Clara together when he had such a strained relationship with both of them was worse than just admitting he had family troubles. At least some part of him loved Clara, but the same couldn't be said about Vasu. It didn't matter that they were similar and that he could see each of them in the other; he didn't like the pranks they pulled, and he didn't like that his arm had been broken by one of them on the rare occasion he tried to join in on their nonsense. And how was a sweet thing like Sasha friends with him? Either she didn't really know him or he was using her somehow, Cosmo just knew it. The thing about his sister and her old friend was that they would do just about anything to get ahead. While their cutthroat methods were admirable, the manipulative trait he thought they shared wasn't as glamorous as one would think.

"We used to be," He explained. "Not so much anymore. Even though we are from the same school, it is my belief that she will still see me as competition no matter what happens this year." He tried to leave it at that, instead choosing to mess with Vasu a little bit. Cosmo wasn't much of a liar like Clara was, but he didn't really have to make Sasha believe his words, he just had to ensure that whatever he said got back to the little gremlin.

"Your classmate used to sneak into my room at night when he had nightmares," Cosmo mentioned as they continued to dance, trying to think. Really this was his sister's specialty. She'd always been great at making something out of nothing, and now he was grasping at straws trying to come up with something embarrassing. "He and Clara would have sleepovers and sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night, snot-faced and wanting me to protect him." He smiled down at Sasha. "Did you know he sleeps naked? Imagine my surprise to wake up with him bare, in my bed, clinging to my chest. Ah, what a guy. Hopefully he's not like that anymore."

Of course, no such thing actually happened. But even so, Cosmo grinned at where he saw Vasu from across the way, not able to wipe the shit eating expression on his face as if he'd done something brilliant. Would Clara be impressed? No, she wouldn't even bat an eye at it. She'd probably have critiques. But he felt rather large and in charge because of what he thought was the most clever prank of all time.



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© weldherwings.
 
MOOD: Nervous

OUTFIT: dress(click!) mask(click!)

LOCATION: dance hall
two
INTERACTIONS: Einar

MENTIONS: n/a
two
TAGS:
Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1
two
TL;DR: Mey is taking a break from dancing, when Einar offers her a dance, she chugs her second glass of spiked punch, and takes it. She's clumsy, stomping on his feet and rambling about nonsense while the alcohol kicks in.
two
mey
Mey stood along the wall of the dance hall, avoiding the gaze of many of the other students and potential tournament champions when possible. In normal circumstances, she was a fairly friendly person who would probably be talking some poor Ilvermorny student's ear off, and when she had been dancing she found herself chattering away to fill the silence. She supposed dances were supposed to be a little bit quieter to hear the music, but she was so nervous under his careful stare that she couldn't help it. He probably thought she was an insane person now. But that was okay. He could think she was an insane person. She probably was.

One hand clutched her second plastic cup of punch, which tasted fruity and spicy, possessing some vaguely familiar notes she couldn't quite place. Cinnamon? Caramel? Nutmeg? She couldn't tell, but she felt her cheeks growing warm with each sip, and the taste lingered on her tongue longer than she would've thought. The other hand was placed carefully on the opposite side of her waist, carefully covering her exposed midriff. She was borrowing one of her cousins' wedding kaftan set for the occasion. Both the top and the skirt were heavy, beaded, and embroidered, sparkling with gold accents over the thick red fabric it sat upon. She had ditched the matching crown, the dress was over the top as it was, and the tulle wrap and beaded necklace were accessory enough. She was just grateful the skirt was long enough that she could wear flats underneath and not embarrass herself trying to walk in heels. She felt uncomfortable in the ensemble. It was dazzling and beautiful, but not something she would ever think about wearing. It just wasn't her style. She was also grateful that the dance had been dress-coded to be a masquerade, making her feel better that she didn't typically wear makeup. Mascara, a single wash of some sparkling shadow on her lids, and a pinky lipstick were simple and effective enough.

Her dark eyes watched the dancefloor, couples floating across the tile seamlessly, like they had been taking ballroom lessons their whole life. The Koldovstoretz travelers were taught by some of their own professor some simple moves to keep from embarrassing themselves, but the movements came natural to plenty of the other students due to their placement in high wizarding societies. Mey, on the other hand, was totally inept. She had proven her inability to dance when she stomped on that poor Ilvermorny boy's toes. He was probably glad the dance card forced him to trade partners, or his toes would have fallen off by the end of the night. She was envious of the girls who seemed to glide around, poised and beautiful in their own dresses and masks. Her gaze skipped from couple to couple as the music swelled and died out. She was smart to stay off the dance floor. She was out here saving lives by being a wallflower for once in her life.

And then, suddenly, she was being invited back out to put others in harms way. An older man, silver haired and bearded, approached her. "We can not have such a beautiful flower hanging along the wall. May I have this dance?" He bowed deeply, offering her an upturned hand in request for hers. "Oh!" She found herself very taken aback by the question, given the dance cards in play. She had been given a bit of a break on hers. She carefully readjusted the tulle shawl that she had draped carefully over one arm. "Um. Okay. I say yes!" She beamed excitedly, her Turkish accent influencing her words. "Um, just one moment." She raised a single finger, signaling that she would be with him in one minute. The young woman leaned over to the table to return her cup of punch. Then, she reflected for a moment, considering if it would be wise to come back to it, and pulled it back into her chest. She was being silly, she could come back to it. She leaned to place it again. Oh no! But what if someone else sipped out of it while she was gone? To return and drink it would be gross. It returned to hovering close to her body. She could just leave it and throw it out. But that would be a waste, and since when would her mother tolerate such wastefulness? It would not go to waste! Mey would not have it. She raised the plastic cup to her lips, a dull clinking sound made when it made contact with the fabric braid that lined her gold and red masquerade mask, and took three large swallows. She wiped the small drop that had escaped her lip with a hasty finger and practically slammed the cup down onto the table.

"Okay! I am ready. You may have this dance." She firmly placed her hand in the older man's, allowing him to lead her out onto the dance floor. She took quick, careful steps to keep up with his stride. When she was whirled around to face him, she hesitated for a moment, unsure of where to put her hands. She decided to rest her free hand gingerly on his shoulder and allow him to lead, offering a nervous smile. As the songs transitioned and a new one began, she tried to follow him in the correct metered steps, but could only do so when she was looking down at their feet. She glanced up to the man with the wolf mask, trying to make sure their eyes met. "I am Mey, from Koldovstoretz. You probably already know that. Unless you are not supposed to know who I am? I do not know, with these masks. Are we meant to be secret?" There it was, the nervous thread of words that she always seemed to unravel. She looked back down at their feet. Stepstepstep-stepstepstep-stepstepstep- Oops! Her small foot smashed his toes as she accidentally began to move the wrong way. Her head snapped up quickly. "Sorry!" She exclaimed sheepishly, earning a hearty chuckle from her dance partner.

"My apologize. I am not a very good dancer." She let out a nervous giggle, her eyes returning to the floor. "You are a very good dancer, I think. You must have many practice." She stepped on his foot again. "Sorry!" As the two danced, she became very flushed. Only a small part of it could be embarrassment as her face grew very warm and their less-than-graceful spinning was suddenly much harder than it had been with the Ilvermorny boy, she felt like her feet were falling out from underneath her.
well, you cured my January blues
Yeah, you made it alright
I've got a feelin' I've lit the very fuse
That you were tryin' not to light
code by valen t.
 


  • Aurelia Quansah
    Uagadou - Female - Pure Blood - Secondary


    The change in songs was unexpected but as her Grandmother always told her she needed to be ready to adapt at a moment's notice. It seemed such lessons were not lost on her partner as it only took a brief moment for Vasu to reconfigure his own dance style to better match the tempo of the song, her movements swiftly aligning with his own so the two remained seamless upon the dance floor. She took note of how quickly the young man had thought on his feet, he was fast and adapted well. It was a skill that could be suitable in many situations but especially in the tournament if her research into past games such as these were anything to go off of. A wizard or witch needed to be able to change with the circumstances of the trials, not all of which were common knowledge before they began. The competitor might believe they are going into the hippogriff's nest to fetch a relic but in truth, they must use the hippogriff to reach the relic on a mountain high above. The champion would need to change their strategy from one of avoidance to one of earning the hippogriff's trust and respect, not an easy task with such a majestic beast. Auri, however, was beginning to understand that Vasu would adapt to such a challenge well and not only that but do his best to make it seem as though it was his plan all along. Image meant something to him and she could both understand and respect that as well as be cautious of it. He might be a brilliant ally but one she would always need to keep an eye on because at the end of the day, there could only be one champion.

    “I enjoy the classics as well as traditional Mauritius Island music but I think my favorite songs of late have been within the musical theater genre. Muggle Broadway I believe is the closest to magic I have ever seen them create and the lyrics to so many of the songs just create such powerful responses from the audience.” She replied honestly. She wasn’t someone who would look at muggles and see nothing of value within their culture, in fact, she didn’t really think poorly of muggles at all. They lived within their own world and created things wizards would never think to use as they had magic to do it for them. She would never want to give up magic to be part of the muggle world but she could appreciate their ways and had no qualms with anyone of muggle origin. “And I play the flute.” She added with a kind smile and a nod to show she hadn’t forgotten the second question he had asked her as the two of them spun across the dancefloor. “What about you Vasu? Are you a man of music? What kinds would you listen to now if you had the choice?” She inquired, matching him in his curiosity and fearlessness in directing the conversation.

    The two remained in pleasant discussion for the remainder of the dance and Aurelia gave Vasu her full attention. He was careful not to allow too much slip that could give way to hidden talents just as she made certain to keep her own aces up her sleeve. Still, she found him enjoyable company and felt that perhaps the two of them could easily enjoy a thought-provoking conversation even after tonight. After all, they would have the entire year traveling the world together so better to find things to talk about than do nothing at all, though silence certainly had its valuable moments as well. When the song eventually came to an end Auri took a step back and once again bowed her head in polite thanks. “It was a true pleasure sharing this dance with you.” She informed him with no hints of dishonesty within her tone or body language. “I do hope you have an enjoyable rest of your evening and when we cross paths again I would love to further our conversations.” She added the request so he would know that his presence was welcome in her company during future meetings.

    Several heartbeats later Auri was once again striding across the dance floor with her gaze scanning the crowd like a lioness scanning the savannah. Finally, her deep espresso gaze settled upon the dark-haired young man with a last name she recognized from several events both their families had been invited to. He was finishing his own dance with a blonde she remembered to be named Sasha so Auri stood poised and patient for the two to part ways.



    Mentions: Vasu Aviator Aviator Cosmo pearjuice pearjuice



    TEMPLATE © BOKEH
 
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Vasu Saini // “Shiva’s Heir” // Male // 5th Year // Koldovstoretz Champion // Parselmouth
​
Vasu wasn’t sure which part of Aurelia’s answer surprised him more: the fact that a pureblood witch was sympathizing with Muggle arts, or that an African islander would pay much attention to commercialized American theater. Broadway was only in New York, right? If so, Aurelia would have had to travel halfway around the world to see such shows, unless she only listened to soundtracks and watched film adaptations. He wondered how many times her family had made such trips. International Portkeys and Floo, being the most convenient mode of long-distance travel, went for a premium, and flying carriages and underwater ships meant several days of travel, which racked up lodging expenses. Unless Aurelia was an appreciator of Broadway from afar, with only a secondhand understanding—which Vasu somehow doubted was the case—her family must have been wealthier beyond his wildest dreams.
Aurelia Quansah was a princess, and the effect of that revelation was first to make Vasu burn with jealousy to have a dance partner who dwarfed him in terms of status, and second to renew his resolve to secure an alliance with her. He wouldn’t have been surprised if her family had known of the upcoming tournament several years in advance and they’d afforded tutors to train her explicitly for it. Vasu had been trained, too, but by his grandmother in a series of informal trials where subpar performances carried consequences. They couldn’t afford to hire out, so his education had come from within the family. Or perhaps Aditi could afford it—the true extent of her wealth escaped Vasu and his mother and sister—but she didn’t trust tutors who had no relation to the family, or she was just unwilling to chip into her own finances when the frugal solution was to mentor Vasu herself.
There wasn’t an exact equivalent of Broadway in India. Vasu had a basic knowledge of Bollywood, as did all Indian wizards because the billboards were ubiquitous in big cities like Mumbai and Delhi, but Bollywood was cinema. There were also natyas, onstage performances in which music and dance were combined to tell a story, but traditionally there were no spoken lines or singing in natyas. When Vasu had first auditioned for the Koldovstoretz school musicals, it hadn’t been because he’d harbored such an ardent passion for the performing arts. Rather, since he’d been a small child singing at temple, he’d always known he’d possessed a gifted voice, and using it seemed like the easiest way to become popular. So he had.
Vasu felt tempted to ask what Aurelia’s family did to make them so wealthy. But before he could, she’d turned the question back around on him, inquiring whether he was a man of music with a dramatic flair that made him smile a little. “Now, as in here at the ball?” Aurelia nodded, and Vasu’s smile widened as he thought of the students dancing in slow circles to a death metal musical accompaniment, acting stiff and formal and as if everything were perfectly normal as a heavily tattooed vocalist screeched lyrics steeped in Satanism. Instead, he replied, “If dancing is mandatory, I’d choose hip-hop music. In my country rappers like Yo Yo Honey Singh and Emiway Bantai are popular, but I like American drill and trap too, like Chief Keef and Lil Darkie, if you know who they are. Something in a trippy minor key that I can get sturdy to. Ballroom dancing is too slow and stuffy for me.” Aditi would absolutely blow a gasket if she heard that Vasu had publicly “gotten sturdy” at an event with international coverage. Seeing her lose it might actually be worth the horrible death that’d await him.
Aurelia asked him what he meant by getting sturdy, and Vasu spent the rest of their dance trying to describe the kicking and hopping that characterized it with the goal of achieving an adrenaline rush. Suspecting that she came from old money, he wondered whether Aurelia thought like Aditi did, that hip-hop dance was frivolous and undignified, and maybe he’d look foolish for liking the stuff. But Aurelia just responded to his words with consistent eye contact and intermittent nodding in the nonjudgmental way that a therapist listens when a patient describes their problems, her personal thoughts on the topic unclear. Nonetheless, the fact that she’d asked a question about something he’d said made him feel flattered and interesting, two things that Vasu enjoyed feeling. Annoyingly, just as he was about to circle back to her family and their occupations, the song ended. He’d missed his chance.
“The pleasure was all mine,” Vasu intoned in a low, honeyed voice. He spoke slowly, and while he did, he clasped both of Aurelia’s hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze to prolong the moment. Vasu gazed into her eyes and smiled, holding the pose for as long as he naturally could and dearly hoping that a camera would snap them in that moment. Aurelia was like a blazing star that emitted light and warmth, and he wanted to be bathed in her glow, a glittering planet in orbit around her that flourished due to its proximity. Being seen with her would enhance his image. “I have every bit of confidence that you’ll be chosen champion, so forgive me for saying prematurely that I consider it an honor to call you my opponent.” He said the words impulsively, brazenly, without fear of backlash.
It was a bold statement, not only banking on the chance of the Goblet selecting her, but him as well. But really, who was his competition? Sasha, who was timid as a mouse? Mey, as scatterbrained and prone to whimsy as the four winds? And they were all fifth years, so it wasn’t as if any of them had an academic advantage over him. They’d all gone through the same classes, so if anyone had an edge, it was Vasu, on account of coming from a pureblood family. Magic was in his blood. Magic was all his blood. Not that that inherently made him better than those with mixed blood. But he believed his upbringing made him more competitive in a magical tournament.
With a final bow of his head, he bid Aurelia goodbye and moved off. Interestingly enough, his next dance partner was one of her Uagadou peers, a girl named Zuri. Vasu wondered whether Aurelia was a typical example of a Uagadou student, and if this next girl would be just as impressive. Or if Aurelia really was a princess, an outlier among the data, and Zuri would make that obvious in comparison. Vasu wanted to believe the second conjecture. Because Aurelia would be a formidable enough opponent on her own, never mind a whole team on her level. Conversely, Vasu’s reinforcements on the Koldovstoretz team were lackluster at best and deadweight at worst. He didn’t expect them to be much help throughout the tournament.
The girl named Zuri Osei was clad in a flowy, loose-fitting cobalt dress, something more romantic and elegant than downright sexy. The only skin it revealed was the hands and neck, and it was belted at the waist. The dress was all one color with tame, basic cuts, and on second thought, it appeared somewhat matronly. As if Zuri didn’t want her dance partners’ hands on her any more than absolutely necessary. When she spotted Vasu making his way toward her, her face didn’t change, and she didn’t make any efforts to meet him halfway. She watched him warily, like a dog with a bone. As he neared her, her perfume became more apparent. It was something that their Ilvermorny hosts would have likely called exotic, but to Vasu only smelled like home, and not his temporary residence at Koldovstoretz. Heady and flowery, like tuberose and ylang-ylang and jasmine. It was addictive, striking just the right balance between sweet and citrusy, and Vasu struggled not to blatantly inhale when he stood before her.
“How do you do, Miss Osei?” he asked without preamble, his voice brisk and businesslike despite the question. “I’m Vasu Saini of Koldovstoretz, and I just came from a dance with your teammate Aurelia. Lovely specimen, she is. Are you guys close?” The question was a rapid calculation that he had made. If he could gauge the relationship between the Uagadou competitors, that was some information he could leverage to his advantage. Were they best friends who would do anything for each other? Was there some hidden resentment boiling between them because there could only be one queen bee? Or were they complete strangers, loyal to the other only out of a mutual sense of obligation?
 
MOOD: Frustrated, angry > curious

OUTFIT: lehenga(click!) mask(click!)

LOCATION: Dancefloor > punch table > dancefloor
two
INTERACTIONS: Kazimir

MENTIONS: She's thinking about Vasu
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TAGS:
irregular-neptune irregular-neptune
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TL;DR: She ditched her idiot of a dance partner, asked Kaz to dance, and is trying to weasel information out of him about the Koldovstoretz students while they dance.
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chitrita
"No!" Chitrita snapped, storming away from the dance floor.

"Come on, I'm really sorry. Please, can we just finish the dance?" She was being chased down by one of the Hogwarts boys, his miserable voice begging her to return.

The Mahoutokoro student whipped around to face her assailant. "No! Absolutely not!" She hissed. The boy stopped in his tracks and she reapproached, closing the gap between their bodies. In heels, her height nearly matched his. She leaned in so their faces were close together. She could feel his breath tickle her face. "You are a graceless oaf. I've seen monkeys who dance better than you." She growled. They stood, staring into each others' eyes for a moment. She was breathing heavily, fueled by rage and the pain in her toes. She whipped around, flicking her silky dark hair into the boys face and escaping the dance floor once again. "What kind of an idiot wears boots to dance anyways?" The last comment was said mostly to herself, but if any eyes had caught the commotion, they would have surely heard her.

It was uncharacteristic for Chitrita to be so hotheaded, but tonight had been a night already. The Mahoutokoro professor was irritating and kept running around like a chicken with her head cut off. She would come to pester Chitrita about appearances and schedules and nonsense that didn't matter to her. Chitrita, as always, was prepared for this moment. She did not have the patience to hold anyone's hands tonight. She had trouble finding her dupatta in all the bags the Pawars' house elf had packed, her heavy earrings were giving her a headache, and her damn mask was so ornate it kept getting tangled in her hair. Things had come to a head about the fourth time that boy stepped on her feet. Her open-toed heels had left her vulnerable to physical attacks she had not known were coming. She had tried to bow out gracefully the second time he had done it, saying she wasn't really in the mood to dance, and giving him the option to save face. He rejected her offer to cease, and she allowed him two more chances to get himself together. He failed.

She took long strides to the edge of the room, searching for somewhere to sit. It was rude for her to leave in the middle of the dance, and rude of her to sit down. But it was rude of that boy to mutilate her poor foot. Ugh. The chairs were farther away than she wanted them to be and she was not chancing another faceoff with that idiot. Despite her frustration, she took a moment to compose herself. She took a deep breath, smoothed her hair, and looked for something else. The punch table. It wasn't exactly a seat, so she wouldn't sit down, but she sauntered over and leaned up against it to stabilize herself as she checked on her feet. Bending down, she inspected her poor, tortured toes, making sure she had all five on her left foot. At this rate, she'd count herself lucky to have all her toenails at the end of the night.

Straightening, an impatient sigh escaped her lips, leaving her to carefully pick one of the chains and gemstones that had ensnared itself in her hair. She watched the dancefloor for a beat, scanning for a face she had not yet seen but would certainly become acquainted with. Between her mauve and gold lehenga and all the dancing around, she was starting to get warm. She needed some water. Or maybe some punch. Her gazed traveled down the punch table, stopping short of the bowl when she saw a better prize— a man. Specifically, a man with intel. Chitrita pushed herself off her table, flipping her hair back over her shoulders, and strode over to Kazimir confidently.

She slid into place beside him, eyes on the crowd, clasping her hands behind her back. She watched wordlessly next to him for a beat or two. "This is a very lovely opening to the tournament." She sighed dreamily, finally turning her face toward him. She fluttered her thick, dark lashes, and took a small step forward. "Care to dance?" She didn't wait for Kaz's response, instead striding out to the dancefloor and expecting him to follow. Once she had reached a spot on the floor with enough room for the duo to dance, she turned to face him. As a young pureblood deeply immersed in the wizarding world's high-society, she was well rehearsed in various social dances, and had figured out how to dance to pop music just as well as she could dance to the same hoity-toity instrumental music that seemed so common at special occasions. It helped that she had a background as a trained dancer, still a ballerina despite her height(it was very controversial amongst her teachers).

Chitrita sweetly extended a hand to Kaz, her head tilted to the side, her chocolate eyes glimmering from behind her ornate mask. Once he took it, she pulled herself in close, turning her palm out towards him and allowing him to grip mostly onto the back of her wrist. Her free hand clasped firmly around his bicep. A small smile came to her lips, like she was pleasantly surprised by what she felt. Despite allowing Kazimir's other hand to find the small of her back, she found herself moving first and taking lead from the following position. She would push them into a bachata style of dance, pulling her body close to his as they stepped side to side. It was simple to move to the 4/4 time of the tune, one-two-three-touch, one-two-three-touch. As they grew more comfortable with each other's bodies and became more familiar with the movements, they began to turn and spin together. Despite the non-traditional look of the two of them, since she was taller than him in her heels, they made a handsome couple on the dancefloor.. "I don't recall your introduction. You must be a professor." She mused, carefully eyeing the man with curiosity. "What school do you have the honor of representing?"

She waited patiently for a reply, like she was making friendly conversation. In truth, she was pretty sure she knew which students she had watched him talk to just shortly before the Octowizard Tournament, she just wanted to be sure. When he answered he worked at Koldovstoretz, she felt glad that she had asked him to dance. She repressed the smirk she felt forming on her lips, but her eyes still lit up a little. "Oh?" She feigned being pleasantly surprised, raising her eyebrows as if genuinely surprised and curious. "Forgive me if I've seen you and should have known that." She blushed. "I've just been so taken with these festivities, I must have lost my mind." She tilted her head down bashfully, setting a careful trap for Kazimir. "You must be proud of your students. They've conducted themselves well." She secretly prayed that her dance partner would take her open invitation to begin to brag about his students. She was eager to know about her potential competition— and her potential husband.
I could draw you dot to dot
I know I could save you
I deserve a special spot
I could be your favorite
code by valen t.
 


  • Naomi Eun Hai (De Vries)
    Beauxbatons - Female - Muggle Born - Secondary


    The small smile upon Naomi’s lips bloomed into a lovely grin as Odinson’s words washed over her and she felt the spirit they held. While his size might be what most people see, even in his shrunken state, Naomi could almost sense that that was not the greatest thing about him. He had heart, lots of heart, and it showed in the way he spoke, moved, and even in the way he looked upon others. There was a boldness to him that reminded the pale-haired beauty of a lion ready to rise to any challenge, a wolf prepared to lead his pack, a dragon rearing to show its might. And yet, Naomi did not fear him because with this strength she could also see kindness in his smile and shining in his eyes. It might be early on and the two may have only just met but she believed this young man could very well become a dear friend if the fates were kind.

    “I am of life and all that comes with it.” She replied with a feathery laugh laced into her voice. “Love for dance, singing, and partying is like love for breathing, it is easy and natural and often forgotten until you have gone too long without it.” She stated as she spun in his arms to the rhythm of the music. “Tonight I believe we all should act as though we have been invited into the great hall of Aegir with its golden glow cast upon us as we celebrate together.” The words came easily as the two danced together, her fondness for knowledge slipping fluidly into the conversation as she recalled scripts of the great parties thrown by the ale brewer of the Norse gods.

    Pulling a light powder purple flower from those woven into her hair she raised it towards Odin’s chest and tucked it into his suit. The splayed petals seemed small against his broad chest and towering shoulders but the small lines of gold stemming from the flower core melded with his golden white mask. She looked at the tiny token of friendship she had given him before blinking and meeting his eyes again with warmth shining in her mahogany gaze. “In the language of flowers, the purple iris symbolizes strength and courage but it also shows new friendship.” She explained as she took up the dance again with ease, her hands returning to his and her steps falling back in with the beat as though they had never left. “I think it suits you Odinson LocJaw.” She smiled up at him as she spoke and twirled as he raised his arm for her to do so.

    The remainder of the dance was delightful as she and the young half-giant spoke and laughed. If Naomi were trying to play some sort of strategy it wouldn’t seem like a clear one to anyone observing. For her, this night was about the experience, about getting to be among so many she had never had the chance to know or witness before. Every person was their own living piece of art and tonight they were all on full display, perhaps the world's most beautiful exhibit of souls. She felt incredibly fortunate enough to have been chosen as a member of the team from Beauxbatons because it meant she had the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to experience nights like these and the many, surely exciting, days that would follow.

    When the song eventually came to an end Naomi curtsied to Odinson once more and waved her hand in a swift, elegant motion of farewell. “It was a true pleasure getting to be of the gods with you Odinson. Perhaps in the future, we can revisit our love of dance together?” She suggested innocently and willing to accept whatever response he felt inclined to bestow upon her. With their farewells completed Naomi turned to reenter the crowd and look upon her dance card once more. “Lisandro Valencia.” She read softly to herself and did her best to recall the young man she had seen on stage not too long ago. His beautiful suit had stood out in her mind and reminded her of one a prince from a fairy tale might wear. Casting her gaze among the crowd it took her a few heartbeats but eventually she spotted the distinct shades of blue and silvery white as well as the young man wearing them. Fluttering through the crowd like a petal on the breeze, swiftly dodging those also moving to find their partners, Naomi finally reached Lizandro’s side. “Excuse me?” She spoke softly and when he turned she curtsied to him as well. “Lisandro Valencia?” She inquired with a sweet smile pulling at her lips that soon met her eyes when he confirmed she was correct.



    Mentions: Odinson FROSTBITE4395 FROSTBITE4395 Lis irregular-neptune irregular-neptune



    TEMPLATE © BOKEH
 
3c48fc9f8a4c31d7c3cbdb0dfb62b01d.jpg


Chahaya “Cha-Cha” Arif // “Magnificent Bastard” // Male // Age 32 // Castelobruxo Professor // Legilimens​

Amity, as she introduced herself, had a very expressive face. An inquisitive twitch of the brow as he mulled over his words before speaking, an automatic ear-to-ear grin like a pretty young barmaid who makes a living by telling men what they want to hear while serving them trashy canned beers, and before that the wide-eyed alarm of a woodland animal who unexpectedly finds itself bathed in the headlights of a speeding car. Having established within several seconds that she wore her emotions on her sleeve, the remaining question was how honest her emotions were. Whether they were honest reflections of her thoughts or perfectly curated things all with goals attached to them.
Cha-Cha saw no reason to introduce himself. He assumed that most of the professors here, those who had been old enough to remember the headlines about the Crow Court’s violent crusade, already had an inkling of who he was, if not more. Saying his name would have been a waste of breath, so he wouldn’t, unless Amity asked, be it out of politeness or genuine ignorance. Still, he worried that she would read a complete lack of introduction as arrogance, so he went for a cheeky icebreaker. “Well, you probably already know the lowdown on me, huh?” Amity smiled in response but didn’t speak, as if the question were a trap and any way she answered might be misconstrued as a snide comment on Cha-Cha’s character. “No need to play polite, sweet thing,” he continued. “Your honest answers won’t break my h— Oh.”
He broke off as a sea of sensations surged through him, strengthened by the warm flush of alcohol in his cheeks. He wasn’t sure which surprised him more: the cool fingers suddenly intertwined with his own, the skin smooth in a way that suggested a decadent life, or the rustling breath of words that accompanied it, like wind sighing through trees, the edge of a melody just beyond hearing. But this wind was agitated, on the verge of becoming a gale, threatening to strip branches of their leaves. The only snatch of words that Cha-Cha caught from it was tinged dark with judgment, a suspicious Since when do you dance? The you implied familiarity, but since the woman was a stranger to him, Cha-Cha inferred that she’d read of him. Or at least recognized his face and already had expectations formed about him, much like the Durmstrang student Clara. Just hopefully less… fangirlish-ly unsettling ones. And then the wind was fading, dying into inaudibility as the shock of her cold touch diminished.
Amity had turned partway away from him to step out onto the dance floor. Cha-Cha, feeling devilish, started to follow, but a dagger smile pulled at his mouth, all sharp edges. He replied, “About thirty seconds into the future, I’d estimate.” She swiveled back toward Cha-Cha, her features rumpled with confusion at what he was talking about unprompted. He elaborated, “Just because I’ve never danced before doesn’t mean I can’t start now.” He shrugged casually.
The widening horror of Amity’s features as understanding sank in was instantaneous. Her grip on Cha-Cha’s hand had gone slack. Cha-Cha simultaneously felt guilty and amused, and then even more guilty for his mirth. “I’m sorry, that was rude,” he backtracked, but the sincerity of his apology was undercut by the fact that it was tangled with a laugh. “That was the only thing I heard, I promise. Drinking makes everything louder, and the effect is increased at the moment of contact. Really. Your secrets are safe from me.” …For now, was the villainous follow-up that Cha-Cha left unvoiced, not wanting to scare Amity further. Already she was staring at him with mingled fear and betrayal, as if a snake that she’d been told was completely docile had just sunk its fangs into her hand when she’d gone to pet it.
“Um,” Cha-Cha started, giving her cold, dead hand a squeeze and trying to ignore the awkwardness creeping through his limbs. Damn his twisted sense of humor. Cha-Cha would blame it on the wine, but he knew it was always there, just harder to repress when he was tipsy. “I understand if you don’t want to dance anymore.” He was acutely aware of the fact that the previous song had ended, and in the interim until the next one started the students were separating, mingling, parting like currents around the two stone-still statues on the edge of the dance floor, one of them recoiling, the other reaching at nothing.
Finally, recovering from her shock, Amity pushed her lips into a smile and asserted that she still wanted to dance. She didn’t say it in a meek, timid way like we can still dance, or if you want, which Cha-Cha respected, even if she’d told him a bald-faced lie instead. “Thank you for giving me another chance,” he said graciously as they walked closer to the center of the floor, meaning it. “Just don’t let go, because then I’ll hear your thoughts again, okay?” Amity looked at him in surprise, asking if that was really the case. “No,” Cha-Cha replied, smiling again. “I’m just playing with you.” Amity threw him a wild look, and Cha-Cha was unsure whether it meant that she didn’t like the way he played at all, or she was terribly fond of it. He sighed deeply, exasperatedly, reminding himself that he had students to coach and that it was way too early in the competition to start feeling things. In his experience, feelings only complicated working relationships and were best left unacted upon. Well. Except maybe for a night or two, never to be spoken of again.
Finding a suitable spot, Amity swung around to face Cha-Cha. Her eyes were like the deepest part of the sea, midnight-blue darkness disguising every feeling, every fear, forcing them all deep below the surface. She was already tall, and she was thin, almost slender, which added to the illusion of her height, so that she stood a hair taller than Cha-Cha. Her waist narrowed in an elegant divot, perhaps small enough for a man to wrap his hands around with fingers touching. While they waited for the students to finish pairing up, Amity expressed her condolences on account of Bellini’s hostility toward Cha-Cha, saying that she had no intention of joining the witch hunt. “That’s good, because I’d tell you to get at the end of the line. And trust me, it’s a long one,” he deadpanned, the joke minimal.
As they fell into a rhythmic cadence of conversation, Amity seemed to be relaxing, no longer the mess of tense angles and sharp breaths she’d been when Cha-Cha had called her out on her thoughts about him. Her voice was warm like the air before a summer thunderstorm as she apologized prematurely for her lack of dancing know-how. “That makes two of us,” Cha-Cha agreed. “Let’s learn together, then.” Despite his optimism, the truth of his former statement was made evident when he searched for the appropriate place to put his hands. Seeing his hesitation, Amity was kind enough to put him out of his misery, raising his left hand already grasped in her right to shoulder height, settling his other hand against the crook of her waist, and arranging hers on his shoulder. “I knew that,” he said with false assurance, an obvious lie. Amity cocked a questioning eyebrow, a challenge glimmering in her eyes. Cha-Cha struggled to maintain a straight face. Something kindled inside him. He ignored it.
“We can fix that, if you want,” Cha-Cha said, nodding toward the House Elf-pushed cart beside the professors’ table, laden with an assortment of dark and light liquors, everything from Casamigos to Crown to Tito’s. “There’s ample wares. I might even join you. What is alcohol, if not liquid courage?” His words were light, but he said them quite seriously, knowing that getting plastered in front of Lis and Ricky would be wildly inappropriate but considering it anyway. Cha-Cha cared more about embarrassing them than publicly making a fool of himself. When the Ilvermorny consensus of him was so low to begin with, he felt he had little to lose, personally. Castelobruxo’s reputation was another issue entirely, but that was Lorena’s problem.
Cha-Cha had warned the headmistress of the repercussions of him representing the school amid the tournament numerous times, but still here he was, her chosen knight. Not that he wanted to be. Cha-Cha was fairly certain that her feelings for him ran deeper than his for her, and this, staring into the eyes of another woman and feeling a spark, was one of those moments where he felt guilty for not having set the record straight with her. Because having Lorena on his side was very useful. Lorena kept Cha-Cha out of Azkaban, after all. If she couldn’t see that as factoring into his behavior, she was blind. Still, he liked feeling helpful and needed, if not… idolized. Similarly, Cha-Cha wondered whether the only reason that Amity Monroe was dancing with him right now was because, like Lorena, he represented something to her. Something powerful and mysterious and taboo. A symbol more than a person. But that was a thought to mull over later, if at all. Cha-Cha had a dance to survive first.
A collective hush fell over the dance floor as the lights dimmed. The musicians raised their instruments in perfect unison. Cha-Cha swallowed and shook his thoughts into order, like a deck of cards ready for dealing. And then a piano banged out three low notes like gunshots, the Great Hall snapped into brightness, and couples burst into motion. An angelic voice crooned,

Want me to love you in moderation
Do I look moderate to you?
Sip it slowly and pay attention
I just have to see it through​

Clapping accompanied the singer after the first stanza, and the tempo rapidly accelerated. A knot of pressure formed in Cha-Cha’s throat. This song was much faster than the previous Lorde one had been, and he wasn’t sure how to move to it. His eyes darted around the dance floor, sizing up other couples, noting the movements of those who looked most natural. Amity stared at him with wide, helpless eyes, as if the responsibility of leading was all Cha-Cha’s. He suddenly understood that her comment about not being a dancer hadn’t been modest, but accurate. “You should really lower your expectations,” he rasped in an undertone, beginning to mimic the jaunty, jiggy steps of the couple who appeared to be most in sync, the brown-haired boy with the pegasus mask and a dark-skinned girl with a lioness mask. At least, it felt like he was mimicking them, though Cha-Cha was certain that to an observer there were discrepancies aplenty. Amity began to follow his lead—ha, that—not so much kicking her feet as scuffing her heels against the floor. But regrettably they were moving in two different directions, and it felt like playing hopscotch on separate boards.
The wine had pumped Cha-Cha full of energy, and he tried to slow down, realizing that he was moving faster than Amity. But he’d never had a good sense of rhythm, and his steps felt off-kilter with the music. Couples were hopping and skipping past them, and most of his concentration was devoted to not colliding with them, wondering what the probability was that an accidental bump with a student would be misconstrued as attempted assault. They were moving considerably, and as his breath quickened, Cha-Cha was reminded that he needed to cut back on smoking.
The challenge was just beginning to put him in a giddy mood, when Amity’s ankle hooked around his own. She stumbled, tumbling forward into his chest when his hands failed to break her fall. “So sorry, my love, that was my bad. Are you all right?” Amity’s hands closed around his biceps, squeezing for purchase as she righted herself, and Cha-Cha laughed gently as she wobbled again. Her mask was askew on her face. He raised a hand to right it so that both Amity’s eyes were peering out of the sockets. “That’s better,” he murmured, not pulling his hand away immediately. Amity blinked at him slowly, lashes fluttering. An ethereal light cast a silvery glow like stardust over her, making her hair gleam like fresh polish. As Cha-Cha replaced his hand at her waist and they resumed moving—a little less vigorously now—he asked without context, “Are you happy, Amity?”
 
Last edited:


  • Professor Birger Einar
    Durmstrang - Male - Pureblood - History of Magic Professor


    The liquid crystal swelling along the bottom rims of Malaika’s eyes did not go unnoticed by Einar as the two danced. Though he did not comment on her hidden tears with words he did attempt to lend the young woman strength through the gentle squeeze of her hand in his. It was a sign of acknowledgment and support that almost anyone would recognize no matter where they originated from. He took great care to ensure the dance was as comfortable and beautiful as he could manage for the young woman as he spun her and turned in time to the rhythm with her. “You’re kind words are a great honor to me.” He hummed with an honest smile and warmth within his deep blue gaze. “If ever you find yourself in need of another dance or perhaps a chat, please do not hesitate to find me. My doors are open to all students, not just those I accompanied here today.” He assured Malaika as their dance came to an end and he took a polite step back to allow her to move away. It warmed his heart to see that the young woman was not made to wait uncomfortably again but was quickly scooped up by an iridescent comet of a girl who spirited her away towards a blonde young man who greeted them eagerly.

    Malaika’s last words stuck with him as she departed and the elder professor peered around the ballroom until his arctic gaze fell upon another young woman who seemed to have been left on her own. It was a shame that there seemed to be an uneven amount of partners to go around and for a moment Einar wondered if they had considered pairing females up on the dance cards. It wouldn’t be an outrageous idea in this day and age, besides it was only a dance, but still, it seemed that those in charge were more…reserved in their view of things. Shaking his head at how leaving someone partnerless was determined to be a better idea the old man approached the young brunette female with a friendly smile. “We can not have such a beautiful flower hanging along the wall. May I have this dance?” He inquired giving her a light chuckle as he held his hand out, the other held his cane which he would balance on his arm as they danced.

    As to be expected the young woman was surprised that a professor might ask her for a dance but Einar did not take offence. In his youth, the girls had flocked him for the chance to dance but now he was older and he understood that he was likely far from what any student had in mind for a decent dance partner. If she declined he would think nothing of it, take no offense, and wish her a good night. His desire to ask simply came from his want to ensure all the young students were having the magnificent night they deserved and not feeling tossed aside.

    A deep chuckle escaped his throat as he watched the young woman, he believed her remembered her name being Mey, contemplate her punch. She seemed to be enduring a grand war of sorts with herself as she shifted back and forth. For a moment it seemed she might dispose of it, then she seemed to want to hold onto it, then the former again, until after a few heartbeats she tipped the glass back against her lips. Like a shield maiden of old the young woman downed the contents of the glass in what seemed like the blink of an eye and swiftly cleared her lips with her fingers before slamming her glass down and declaring she was ready to dance. “Wonderful!” He chuckled with his normal booming voice.

    The duo danced and he was delighted to find she wished to converse with him though she seemed a bit nervous with her words. “It is a great pleasure to meet you Mey from Koldovstoretz.” He greeted her with a smile as he gently held her hand in his and spun with her on the dance floor. “If our identities are meant to remain a secret then I believe I should have drank a polyjuice potion. Looks like I am the only relic from the Stone Age within these walls.” He joked with her in an attempt to ease her worries. “For those paying attention during the presentation, they would likely remember you. Though from what I saw, not many were.” He added with a playful shake of his head. “I am Professor Birger Einar of Durmstrang, but you may call me Einar.” The silver-haired professor invited.

    Their dance was not as smooth as some of the others but each time she stepped on his toes Einar didn’t even so much as wince. “You are quite alright.” He assured her in a fatherly tone as she apologized over and over. Dancing with his daughters when they were alive had taught him how to handle a few swollen toes without so much as blinking an eye. “You are doing just fine. I assure you I have experienced far worse, you are a delight.” He promised as she apologized for her dancing and stepped on his foot again. He noticed she seemed to be swaying a bit more but this did not seem to be in attempt to keep with the music. Pausing for a moment Einar’s hands came to rest on the sides of Mey’s arms and he looked at her with worry in his brilliant blue gaze. “Are you quite alright?”



    Mentions: Mal Wolfiee Wolfiee honeycoves honeycoves Mey



    TEMPLATE © BOKEH
 







  • lisandro valencia
    castelobruxo champion

    L
    is had felt bad for interrupting Gavy’s trip to the refreshments table, but glanced over her shoulder at her mention of the brownies. They did look really good, and his stomach growled a bit. He hadn't even thought about whether he'd been hungry or thirsty until now, but as the thought occurred to him, he realized just how dry his mouth was and the ache in his stomach. He should have eaten more than a pastry in the food cart, but that had felt like so long ago now that he wasn’t sure it mattered.

    As they danced, Lis noticed Gavy’s eyes change color and was a bit shocked. Was it a transfiguration spell, a trick of the light, or was she a metamorphmagus? In any case, Lis thought she was even cooler than before. She was also good at steering the conversation, which Lis was thankful for and it put him at ease. Even though he felt awkward in his movements, he tried to accept that dancing just looked awkward and tried to follow what Gavy was doing in the dance and the conversation.

    “Well, I mostly listen to like… muggle music, I guess. Like pop and rock.” Lis struggled to describe his music tastes and even to remember an artist he listened to, mind going blank. “I really like, uh… Florence and the Machine? And there’s this band from Colombia that I like called Area 12. What do you like?”

    He listened as she answered and then swiftly changed topics, delving into their other interests and what their schools were like only a bit. He even told Gavy that he could play some instruments himself. It just felt easy to talk to her, he relaxed a bit again. If all of his dance partners were like Auri and Gavy, it would be pretty smooth sailing from here on out.

    He blushed at Gavy’s comment about him being a good dancer and waved dismissively, jokingly, “You don’t have to flatter me.”

    As they went to part ways, Lis was almost gone before Gavy grabbed his hand and assured him that he was doing good. It was actually quite a relief, though Lis really hoped he didn’t look so nervous that he needed reassurance. At least not any more. He couldn’t fool himself into thinking he never looked completely out of his element, an unconfident blob of human anxiety. “Fake it ‘till you make it” had never been his strong suit before, but he was trying to make it his motto now, as he took his place on this grand stage.

    “Thanks, good luck!” was all he'd managed before Gavy quickly skipped off.

    As they parted, he decided to take a quick visit to the refreshments table before his next dance, having finished his dance with Gavy not far from where they’d begun it. Avoiding the gaze of the professor standing watch there, he grabbed a cup of punch and glanced for something quick, only grabbing a few pieces of fruit and cheese laid out (and heavily considering the brownie) before his next dance, Naomi, graced him with her presence.

    He turned to her and bowed in response to her curtsy. “Hello! You must be Naomi?”

    He eyed the drink in his hand and quickly downed the rest of it, a mixture of sweet and…spicy? burning his throat and only making him grow thirstier. What was in American punch? It wasn’t bad, just unique. The punch at any Colombian party was typically salpicón – a drink full of frest fruit and sprite, very refreshing. It didn’t often taste like cinnamon. However, it wasn’t bad, it just hadn’t quite quenched the dryness in the back of his throat.

    He felt his cheeks grow a bit hot as he took Naomi’s hand to dance with her, trying not to overanalyze his every move. He’d done pretty good with the rest of the dances, so what was there to worry about this one?

    As the next song began, Lis was actually almost excited for it. As he’d mentioned to Gavy, Florence + the Machine was one of his favorite bands, and he’d often danced to this song at parties or, more likely, enthusiastically in his bedroom, by himself. It was a bit embarrassing on the dance floor, but only a small part of him cared. It was far more quick-paced than the previous Lorde song, so while Lis tried to talk to Naomi while they danced, he was also focused on keeping up and trying not to step on her feet. However, he felt a bit more relaxed than the previous songs, even though he wasn’t quite sure where to put his hands, or even how to dance to this song with someone else.

    Once the initial awkwardness with where to put his hands, or whether to place them anywhere at all was over, Lis almost felt in his element, in a way. He didn’t even step on Naomi’s feet or almost knock her over, which felt like an accomplishment to him.

    “How are you enjoying the evening so far, Naomi?” he asked her, kind of grasping at straws for small talk. He didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to socialize with a potential future ally or competitor, but he only knew how to have a handful of conversations. He felt himself grow more talkative, however, as Naomi’s calming presence seemed open to any conversation that he could think of. Plus, the punch didn’t hurt.

    “I think your hair is pretty cool. Have you only ever had pink hair? I’ve thought about dyeing mine if I grow it out, but I never know what color to do.”

    ((ooc: I actually had already written that Lis liked Florence + the Machine before I realized what song they were dancing to so i just kept it lmao))




    location:
    the dance floor




    interaction:
    Gavy and Naomi Sanctuaryforall1 Sanctuaryforall1




    feeling:
    a tiny bit tipsy, warm

 
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