Secret Blossom Ball Event Finished

Interacting with: @Aaron Jones & @Saskia Nicholson

Mentions: @Dale Kurt

Outfit: Dress | Shoes | Makeup
Hair

Blake's Blossom Ball Attire:

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Interacting with @May Moonstar

Outfit:

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Interacting with: @Evelynn Decipio @Ruka Tân
Mentioning: @Jack Burnett

Action:
Keeping Evelynn informed and accepting Ruka's invitation to dance

Previous posts: Pre-ball, Entrance, Recon

Closed to Interaction
Unless you’re Burnett, Evelynn, or Rafael

@Serena Bowen

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Damion's Ball outfit^


Matching corsage [for Serena] and Boutonniere

Words: 322 Words

Interacting with @Willow Anderson
Mentions @Pericles Dralt and @Xailah Alptraum

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Breana clutched unto the skirt of her gown tightly, thankful that it's not too heavy. She went into the main area of the ball, alone with no one to join the tan child. She had Pericles as a date, but they both agreed to attend the ball separately for caution against the person that sent some personal and suspicious letters. It was the best for her, or at least she thought so since she was mildly flustered with her current ensemble.

She rarely wore makeup, but her mother insisted that she would wear at least a dash of it to make her look polished and stunning. With an owl filled with makeup and a list of instructions, Breana made it through with easy applique. It was odd for her, having a bit of weight on her face because of the makeup, but she figured that such a thought would disappear as soon as she set her sights on the ball. Her hair was propped up neatly into a Cinderella-esque bun, most of it covered by the pin filled with dark pink ranunculus and soft pink astilbe. She wasn't sure what's the significance of having such flowers on her, but her mother thought it would be perfect for her to wear. She made a mental note to look it up after the ball. As for the gown itself, it was initially just an off shouldered dress. The lacy extra sleeves, however, was a delicate addition that she handsewn herself. Such an addition was to give a small nod to her Portuguese roots, giving the dress an entirely new silhouette that resembles the traditional dress of her father's home country. And lastly, her wand was safely tucked under a small slit of a pocket hidden under the large ranunculus flower on the side of her waist.

She looked around, scanning the sea of faces for a familiar one that she can talk to. Finally, her eyes fell unto Pericles. Since the last time they've been together, she barely had time to talk to him. It made sense, considering their little incident with letters, and that he was one of the clever students that wrangled up this whole soiree. Her heart almost skipped a beat as she saw how polished and formal he looked. It was as if he stepped out of a fairytale book after he has slain a dragon. Breana was about to walk up to him when she saw that he was already preoccupied with talking to someone else. The child would be lying if she told someone that she didn't feel sad that she couldn't be the first to talk to him, but who was she to interrupt? After all, she knew that he'd be stacked with work maintaining the ball and being on high alert. He did say so himself that she should enjoy herself and not worry about having to be with him 24/7. Still, a small part of her hoped she would get that overtly whimsical and somewhat cheesy dance with him...

Slightly broken, she turned her heel in a different direction, hoping to find a good friend here to erase the bothersome emotion that has currently plagued her. Thankfully, fate laid out a lucky hand to the Ravenclaw, spotting a familiar blonde sitting at a table. It was Willow, the strong competition in that chicken fight back when there was an impromptu pool party. Her energy quickly jumped back to her usual self, almost gliding towards the Hufflepuff girl. "Willow!" She exclaimed, raising her hand to a light wave. She was alone as far as Breana could tell, which was great for her so she had someone to talk to. "You too, huh?" She joked, letting out a small chuckle. "Uh, mind if I join ya? I'm not interrupting you with your... fries?" She asked. If one would notice her speech carefully, one could tell that she was masking a bit of her pain with comedy, a trait that would be too early for a child to learn (She should have it later as an adult, but hey, she's probably an early bloomer to such dry humor.)

dress: Reducio

shoes: Reducio hehe none

interacting with: @Adam Harringtom @Alexx Séverin @Rosie Parker @Reid Kovacs

Cecily's fingers played with the skirt of her dress as she quietly made her way to the Quidditch pitch, broom in hand. It wasn't that she was upset-- she just was not particularly excited to be here. Quite frankly, she had been forced to make an appearance, regardless of the excessive proportion of cons to pros she had listed to Adam. Dressing up, small talk, large talk, overeating-- these were all things she would rather avoid. And even if she did feel the want to overeat, well, she could do that from the comfort of her dorm room. She didn't need a big, frilly social event as an excuse to eat cupcakes, and she had told Adam as much. Ultimately, however, he had pulled the friend card and she couldn't refuse, as much as she wanted to. And so she did the absolute bare minimum in response: no makeup, minimal hair styling, a simple dress, and no shoes whatsoever. She didn't want to be rebellious, per se, but also...she kind of did. If she was going to be dragged to this ball that was bound to end in disaster, she might as well not put effort into it.

A vaguely annoyed expression could be found on Cecily's face as she strolled up the candle-lit path towards the pitch, although it would be replaced by a kind smile if she caught eyes with another student. The sun was moving towards the horizon, and with each step, the flames seemed to glow brighter inside their small bubbles. So the planning committee had taken precautions against fires-- that was comforting, as her main con against this whole event was based on the fact that every. single. ball before this had gone down in flames or worse. Particularly with no professors around this time to help them out, Cecily was more than a little wary as to the lives that may potentially be lost during this event as she approached the opening into the pitch. She rested her broom on the rack next to the others, and selected a dark blue ribbon from the bowl that nearly matched with her dress. She debated for a moment of where to attach the strip of material before settling on her wrist, tying it tight with her right hand and using her teeth to tighten it.

Entering the arena, Cecily paused in the opening to take it in. For having been designed and executed by students-- mostly younger ones, from what she'd heard, although she wasn't sure exactly who was involved-- it was remarkably beautiful. The floating candles were a nice touch, she thought, as she made her way to the snack table. It was her first destination at any party, usually, but the candles had particularly reminded her of the Great Hall and, more specifically, the fact that she had skipped dinner. She knew she would have to have maximum energy to make it through the night, meaning she needed some quality alone time before this to charge her social battery. Thus, instead of dinner, she had spent the early evening on her bed, reading a book and working her way through a puzzle book her mother had sent her last week. Just before she had to start making her way down to the pitch, she had thrown on her dress and run a brush through her hair, which still featured splotches of grey from Ami throwing her damn cat at Cecily's face.

A soft breeze blew across the pitch, floating Cecily's hair in front of her face. Looking in the mirror before she left the castle, Cecily had made the quick decision to sport streaks of dark blue in her locks to cover up the mess. Perks of metamorphmagus talent, she supposed-- it was easy to cover up ink stains from her friend throwing an ink-covered animal at her. Speaking of, she wondered if Ami was here yet. Cecily imagined she was-- after all, Cecily was by far not the first person to arrive. The refreshments table was already crowded as she closed the distance between her and the food, snaking through the crowd to snatch a good-sized cupcake with pink frosting off of the table before retreating to a less crowded corner of the pitch. She took a bite of her cupcake-- strawberry flavoured, if she wasn't wrong, and a pleasantly unprocessed one at that-- as she scanned the crowd for a tall, blonde head belonging to Adam. Licking the frosting off of her lips, she lazily made her way around the edges of the pitch, away from the throngs.

She was so focused on searching the crowds, where she was sure the outgoing Ravenclaw would be hanging out, that she nearly missed him standing off to the side with a small group of other students. Cecily ducked through the frills and bodies to insert herself into their small circle. "Hey, Adam!" she said with a wave of her free hand, greeting her friend. She gave a slightly more awkward wave to the other three-- Reid, Rosie, and Alexx-- in greeting, momentarily forgetting the half-eaten cupcake still in hand.

cecily did not stop at the changing rooms.

Entering from changing rooms

Mentions: @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

Open to Interaction
Enters thread from Changing Room

Like Holmwood, Evelynn took care not to make her peering as specific individuals of interest too conspicuous. At the descriptions given, Evelynn would refrain from glancing immediately, casting a furtive glance only when a natural opportunity - such as the passing by of somebody in close proximity to draw attention - provided itself to her. Vladimir she knew hadn't yet arrived. Of the three "witnesses" to the Umbridge murder, he was the one she knew. Well... not knew, but at least knew by site. Davenport, however, that one was interesting.

For some reason, she was expecting someone quite a bit more homely than the girl in pink. Pink. She was suddenly reminded of the woman in pink depicted in the enchanted tapestries. Of course...Umbridge was well known to suit herself in that particular hue; that was no secret. It was just a coincidence, this. It had to be. Evelynn pushed the brief notion beneath the tide of thought, instead committing the girl's face to memory. She had class. The Gryffindor couldn't deny that she actually quite liked the way Davenport had dressed. That aside, the mark had been placed, and she would keep the corner of her eye out for the girl and those with whom she interacted for the remainder of the night. Perhaps she might even venture over to give her own greetings should the chance arise...

"And of Thomas?" Evelynn inquired, returning her attention back to Flash to remind him of the other question he had not answered. Before he could reply, however, once again, her own name rang out. And once again, from the lips of someone with whom she had interacted very little.

"Good evening, Tân," she cordially replied, once again, her tone flecked with pleasant surprise at having been directly addressed so warmly.

A faint blush colouring the edges of her ears at his compliment. That was something she wasn't at all used to hearing. Being called lovely. Admittedly, she didn't doubt it in that moment. Whether Flash had somehow found out from Lee (who had arranged the gown she was to wear), or had simply fluked out with his choice of style, she was acutely aware that the two of them struck an impressive image. Reserved elegance in timeless navy. With the sun setting and the starry night overhead beyond the orange glow of floating candlelight, the two were cut for this particular scene.

"You look rather sharp, yourself," she noted, gray eyes having flickered briefly from his face to note his own garb. True, he wasn't dressed to the nines like so many others had done, but had Evelynn had her way, neither would she have. HHAWT demanded that their hosts and hostesses sufficiently represent even while not actively conducting HHAWT business, however, and she had had her requests for designs kiboshed. "I will admit, though," she went one, inclining her chin just slightly as though admiring a painting, "I'm surprised you didn't finish the ensemble with a certain fedora. Have you done away with that particular article?"

Whatever his reply, however, the conversation was one that was evidently not meant to be had with her. Although initially surprised by his proposition of a dance, having not expected anyone to ask her, really, let alone someone so disparate in social circles, it became clear soon enough that the question had not been directed at her. Brow lofting with mild amusement, her own gaze panned long with Ruka's to rest on Flash, reading his reaction. And what an interesting little tale it had to tell as the Gryffindor boy continued. She'd thought this to perhaps have been a ruse. A prank of sorts, perhaps. By the way Flash had frozen, however -- something Evelynn felt more than saw -- and the concern reflected in his expression, it was clear there was something going on. Some sort of history to which she was not privy.

Evelynn, of course, would offer no objection. He wasn't hers, so to speak. Nor would she consider herself to be positioned to impose. He was free to make his own decisions. Even still, she expected him to brush it off. To politely (for had she seen Holmwood act anything but with the highest level of propriety) decline in favour of his task. Or perhaps even to continue to hold up their charade and suggest he didn't dare deny his date the honour of his first dance of the night. To her surprise, he did none of those; he accepted. She could only watch on in reserved silence, then, the hint of a curious smile playing at the corner of her lips to counter the slightest arch of her brows as the two departed and left her to her own musings.

Musings that would remain partially focused on the pair, curious to note whether the dance was more than just a dance. But her eyes would not remained fixed solely upon the fire dance and the snake. As she had before, she allowed them to wander once again, only this time, she took a little promenade of her own. The soft earth muffled her steps, not that there would have been much sound to squash. Feeling particularly dignified in her flowing gown and foxfur stole, she carried herself with a grace befitting her ensemble. She kept her chin aloft, her posture erect, and her strides as graceful as though she, too, graced the dance floor. It would not be for its spotlight that she ventured, however. If Flash could socialize, so could she. He could come find her when he had finished.

Thus, it was for a familiar face she had earlier glimpsed that she went in idle searching. Jo Morgan' garb had been one of those that had caught the red head's attention nearly as quickly as Moore's white tux. Black was not a customary colour one would see at any social gathering beyond a funeral, yet that had been the girl's sole palette. Despite how unusual Evelynn had found that, she'd thought the dress to be stunning. Victorian in style, timelessly classy, and with a silhouette that was very flattering, Morgan had certainly come to make an impression whether she'd intended to or not. As Evelynn continued to wander around the grounds of the pitch, however, it was as though Morgan had vanished. Surely, she'd have found her with ease. Against all the bright and pastel colours, black should have easily stuck out in contrast. Yet...she was nowhere to be found.

Then from the corner of her eye, Evelynn saw exactly what she sought. Black that seemed to absorb any and all candlelight in its immediate proximity. She'd only seen it for a second, however, a group of students cutting across her view to block the brief glimpse from sight. Hope renewed, Evelynn meandered in the direction from where she had seen it, coaxing herself through a small crowd until she emerged to find a table lined with various refreshments. But not Morgan. The black that she had seen belonged to someone that was decidedly not her Gryffindor dorm mate. In fact, the silhouette belonged to an individual with whom she had no desire at all to interact. In the same movement with which she had emerged, she veered away, continuing her path in a wide arc to continue surveying those gathered. She pushed Gray from her mind. Particularly the annoying little thought that had had the audacity to try to suggest that he looked rather dapper, standing there in his understated yet bold suit, casually sipping water. He and his cronies could mind their own on that side of the pitch. As far as she was concerned, so long as he left defenseless birds alone, their business was done.

She would take herself elsewhere, thank you very much. And with that, she went in search of someone more palatable to share a conversation.

While Flash is off dancing with another, Evelynn has been temporarily left to her own devices and is wandering the pitch in search of familiar (or unfamiliar) faces who might wish to mingle! (Definitions of mingle may vary from person to person)

Interactions:
Mentions: @Marion Davenport, @Victor Moore, @Xailah Alptraum, @Pericles Dralt
Open to interaction

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