Valentine's Tea Errand Finished

Actions: Look at Jack B. Ask Olphie for help.

Interacting with @Rafael D'Spacito

Mentioning @Evelynn Decipio @Jack Burnett @Victor Moore @Piérre Marchonné @Persephone Barret

[font=Monotype Corsiva]  “I suppose we are matching, though. Valentine’s colors, and all.”
"Yea, I guess we are" Wren said with a suspicious grin on her face. Pulling out the frilly headband Rafa had been forced to wear as part of their bet, Wren placed it on his head. It looked hilarious. Wren doubled over in laughter sure that the whole room could hear her laughing at this boy with the heart headband. Long story short Rafa had lost and was facing the consequences. Wren was loving this; this was not only embarrassing her friend, but she was getting a good laugh out of it. She lived for a good laugh.

Her father had always said she was a good comedian and could get a good laugh out of almost anything. She valued her father’s opinion and was extremely hurt when he disowned her after she came out, but even though she missed him, her mom was trying to bring him to her side, so all’s well that ends well right?

So, right as she opened her mouth to ask Rafa about going and getting a refreshment, she heard a scream come from the other side of the room. It came from Evelynn Decepio. The girl she absolutely despised. They had once met in a hallway where Piérre had fallen over and Wren had just tried to talk, but Evelyn had gotten all mad at her, and now Wren just didn’t like her.

She looked over at the commotion surprised to see that a girl she didn’t recognize had dropped a cup and it had shattered on the floor. Jack was over there trying to clean it up and help Evelynn out, but why? Wren had no clue. It seemed to her that Jack and Evelynn were friends, which was fine as long as Evelynn didn’t talk bad about her. Then turning back around to Rafa after watching Evelynn storm out of the room, for the second time she tried to ask the same question, Rafa walked away to talk to a Slytherin looking boy, so she followed. She gave up on trying to say anything and just introduced herself.

“Hey! I’m Wren! Who are you?” She asked with an innocent smile on her face.
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Word count: 356 (Errand Complete!! )

Bastille was starting to believe that his mum really, truly had placed a tracking spell on him of some sort. A charm, perhaps, specially designed to alert her to any and all social happenings at Hogwarts so that she could promptly owl him about events and ensure that he was going to them all in order to, quote, "make darling new friends and feel at home." There was truly no other explanation for how she had somehow heard about this Tea Party with enough advance notice to absolutely insist that he attend or else break her fragile, fragile heart. 

It was stone cold manipulation, it was. Sometimes he doubted his analysis that Maman would be a good fit for Hufflepuff and thought, rather darkly, that she was a bloody snake just like his father; like called to like, didn't it? No wonder his mum seemed to have no reluctance whatsoever to force her children into such outlandish events — not only that, but apparently no qualms about outright spying on them (not that he could prove or it even conceive of how she was getting her information). 

Which was why he was actually here, trudging towards the Small Hall in a lazy saunter that might look relaxed but was truly designed to stall as long as possible. He had little interest in the grandeur notions of love and 'affection'; he was perfectly content to have his approximately two friends and spectate the rest of the lunatics in his year in peace, thank you. Emotions and sentiment were bothersome and complicated and, though he had a nice, healthy love for his family, he wasn't so certain any form of external love was necessary for his life. Valentine's Day seemed like a downright ridiculous thing to be celebrating, then, but he had little choice in the matter. 

He wore a soft pink button down under his robes, arrived just that morning from Maman with explicit instructions that he wear it at least once, please, baby, pink is so nice with your complexion, but that was it. That was as much as he was willing to contribute to the holiday "cheer", and he had little plans on lingering for too long at this... thing, but he would wear the bloody shirt and show up and then he would leave like a good, diligent son. The perfect image of a well-behaved Gryffindor. Go lions. 

Bastille was just stepping into the god forsaken Hall — so much pink — when, like a herald of just how this event was going to go for him, an unearthly shriek rang out. For a moment he stopped short, certain that he must have somehow imagined it (for what a nice summary of how he felt about being here), but almost immediately his attention was being drawn to the source: Evelynn Decipio, covered in... tea?

He blinked, staring, and almost laughed; the sight was so absurd and unexpected that it was frankly hilarious in its shockingness, completely throwing off his expectations. But then the rest of the chaos registered — the screaming, the Slytherins, the vague air of distress and outrage clouding over the group forming around Eve — and Bast was quickly losing all sense of humor in the face of this... crisis. Of sorts. Scandal? 

The thing was that he actually liked Eve. She was sharp and a bit barbed, sly and smug in a surprising way, but he liked that. She was also a complete and utter swot, nerd extraordinaire, and more likely to accuse him of slacking on their Good Gryffindor Duties than to, say, do anything normal, but she was still his friend. Sort of. As much as he considered anyone a friend, anyway, and Bast nothing if not violently loyal to those he deemed his. He might not fill too at ease among the lions, but they were still his Housemates and Eve was still one of the few Housemates he would actually choose. 

Which, of course, meant that the first thing out of his mouth as he strode up to the cluster of students, edging his way towards Eve with a perfunctory glance at those crowding her, was a rather rude, "Hey, jog on, would you? Standing around staring isn't going to very well cure burns, is it?" He shifted towards Eve, gaze flickering briefly over the strain in her expression, but he didn't comment on it. She didn't strike him as the sort who liked to acknowledge weakness, and so he pretended it wasn't there, instead huffing, "Have you done your History of Magic homework yet? Course you have, swot. A Scourgify for this, I think, c'mon."

His attention strayed up and towards the others, flickering from the girl who seemed more or less in charge of this disaster (Opelia, or something?), before it shifted towards the absolute shitshow developing across the Hall. 

"That girl threw it on you?" he asked, incredulous, which was a bit of a moot point — the Slytherin girl was clearly the culprit, what with one of the lions already yelling at her, and Bast scowled in annoyance. Tempting as it was to go hex her shoelaces, he turned back towards Eve and forced something more teasing instead with a light, "Gee, Eve, what'd you do now? Breathe a little too loudly for the snakes?"

899 words & interacting with @Evelynn Decipio + anyone in the area.

Interacting with : @Ruthie Greer and @Dale Kurt
Mentions: The Craziness.

Starting to wonder if she should have bothered coming at all, Lark eyed one of the empty chairs and then over her shoulder. Maybe she could just go.. but a part of her wanted to stay and actually enjoy an event for once. Plus, she had really been hoping that some of her friends would show up. Speaking of- Lark's eyes lit up as she saw Dale enter the mix. "Hey!" She gave a small wave and smiled up at him as he made his way over to her.

"Yes well... I guess I haven't 'ad enough of Hogwarts events just yet." She grinned trying to make light of the Ball's outcome. "You look-" Lark's compliment was cut off by another familiar voice.

"Okay, I'm here,"

"Ru!" Lark chirped as she pulled her friend in for a hug, ignoring the terse tone. She was beyond grateful that Ruthie had still chosen to show up, despite her history of Hogwarts events. "No way you can't go!" Lark stood back and looked over to Dale who appeared to have his attention elsewhere.. A concerned look spread across her face. Was he already bored? This event was that awful that her friends couldn't bare to stay longer... Guilt swelled in her chest as she clutched her hands in front of her.

A scream from across the room snagged Lark's attention. People appeared to be gathering around one of the other girls and blocked Lark's view as she leaned to peer past Dale at the action. As she leaned back to talk to both her friends about grabbing a seat Dale simply waved at them and walked off into the fray. "I uh-" Lark swallowed the large lump in her throat. She peered to Ruthie a slender brow raised in question. Truly... she did not understand boys... Not that this was the first time she had read into anything with feelings but.. apparently crushes just were not her thing. Was it how she looked? Or maybe it was just... her.. Lark's eyes followed the boy as he went over to sit with another girl.

Turning to inquire with Ruthie if she had done something wrong, hoping Ruthie had more knowledge on boys than she did... Lark saw someone handing her tea. How charming! Lark's eyes darted back over to Dale as her smile faded. Her gaze fell to the floor, glaring down at her pink shoes, small butterflies staring back up at her... almost mockingly. Prying her eyes back up to Ruthie and Cormac, Lark figured it would be best to greet him instead of standing there like a lump. "Good ta see you again." She mustered up a smile for the Ravenclaw boy.

Open To Interactions
Interacting With: @Jack Burnett, @Quinn Healy
Mentions: @Ruka Tân

When reality took its toll, snatching Persephone out of whatever fantasy she had settled in, her teeth were grinding, jaw clenched so tightly that the definition of her collarbone was visible. In front of her stood an overly confident Jack Burnett, someone she had thought she left behind at the scene of her earlier crime. Behind him, her new victim, one light colored hair Gryffindor. She stared at the red-headed Slytherin, dumbfounded by his willingness to take a hit meant for another. For a short moment, his boldness was impressive, admirable even.

But that moment passed, and the flaming fire in her body had erupted again, as if gasoline had been spilled all around it. Since the moment she decided to pour tea on the auburn-haired girl, her white hands had failed to stop trembling, and this moment was hardly an exception. It wasn’t until he spoke that the hell in her mind broke loose.

“That’s enough!”

Before her vision went red and her body surrendered control to the monster that resided within, Persephone’s unconscious mind became aware of something, as if the anger had clouded her to the point of almost letting it slip, the meaning of it settling beneath her skin. And in that moment, although short lived, Persy was sure something in her eyes had flickered. No one would notice it, sure, but it would affect her tremendously. Just not right now.

That’s the difference.

Her eyes met Jacks, something different in them. “How would you know what anyone has done to me?” Her tone wasn’t angry, simply indifferent. Apathetic all over again.

“...you’re already in trouble as it is.”

As opposed to following her initial plan, in which Jack would undoubtedly wind up on the floor, her elbow met his abdomen with great force, pushing him away from her and into the table where the two Gryffindors sat. Immediately after, she turned to face the source of the deep voice that had warned her, spoke as if he could judge her actions.

Ah, a prefect. A peculiar one at that, who stood at least six feet tall, towering over 4’9 Persephone. This didn’t come as a surprise, as displayed by her lack of change in expression, detention was to be expected if you caused all the mayhem she had, like a God overlooking her creation. To her, this prefect was proof that what she had done was real. Here it was, the consequence. Reality was all around her, working itself out her whole life. Persy had never had the control belong to her, events be in her hands. This beautiful afternoon was different. Perhaps this prefect, giant and red-headed thought he was here by choice, but he was doing exactly what Persephone had desired.

That same malicious grin spread across her face as she looked up at the prefect.

“Lie? Why would I lie about this?” Her voice, though monotone, was obviously pleased with herself. This wasn’t something she would bother hiding.

Interacting with: @Persephone Barret & @Quinn Healy
Mentioning: @Erin Ryan, @Ruka Tân, @Opeila Seilun, & @Evelynn Decipio

"How would you know what anyone has done to me?"

"I didn't claim to know what anyone has done to you," Jack shot back. "I said Tân and Decipio! Tân wouldn't have done anything deserving of what you just tried to do to him. And you even admitted that you didn't know Decipio!"

However, the boy soon found himself distracted from the conversation. As soon as Jack's eyes locked with Erin's over the tops of his shades, he visibly paled. Well...so much for my disguise. He couldn't even convince himself that she hadn't recognized him once she went up to Professor Bercegeay to proclaim she was in love and that she needed the professor's help - help to make 'Paracephalosophus Algae Myth' notice her. That was all fine and dandy, but the real problem was that Erin thought that he was this 'Paracephalosophus Algae Myth' fellow and he couldn't very well deny the claim while Erin was around. To do so likely would have meant certain death and Jack was very much a fan of self-preservation. Therefore, he could only draw one conclusion.

He had to get out of there. And soon.

The lumbering half-giant Hufflepuff Prefect that Jack had only heard about and seen around previously - Quinn Healy - finally made himself known as he came up to them. Jack tried not to stare, making sure to keep his mouth shut and only observe Quinn out the corner of his eye. He didn't dare turn away from Persephone for an instant, either. Still, he listened attentively, drinking in every word the prefect had to say.

As he seemed to be speaking mostly to Persephone and the Slytherin girl was capable of answering more of Quinn's questions than Jack was, Jack allowed the blonde a chance to speak first. Unfortunately, his assumption that she would try to speak before attacking resulted in him dropping his guard long enough for her to get a direct hit in with her elbow. The Slytherin boy fell back against the table with a grunt of pain, bracing himself against it so as not to fall on anything or anyone behind him. There had already been enough damage done for one day at this tea party.

Glaring at Persephone, he held his tongue as they waited for her explaination, but it never seemed to come. Instead she grinned up at the prefect and asked why she would lie about the events.

By then, Jack was sick of waiting. "She's been trying to get people to acknowledge her," he told Quinn. Sure, he wasn't Persephone and he couldn't be positive about her motives, but if he was wrong about any of it, she was free to correct him. "She wants to connect to others but she doesn't want to make friends. So she's trying to make people hate her instead." He glanced at Ruka in his peripheral vision. "Being hated is easier than being ignored. At least being hated proves that you've had enough of an impact on someone else to make them feel that strongly about you."

Jack frowned at Persephone once more. "So she poured hot tea on Decipio, stomped on Seilun's foot, and tried to attack Tân." The line of his mouth twisted. "If you give her detention, it'll only validate her actions in her eyes and encourage her. She needs to know this isn't how to get attention."

He doubted the prefect would not give the girl detention - after all, what else could prefects do to punish other students but that? Even so, Jack still felt the need to warn Quinn just in case.

Open to Interactions
Interacting With: @Ethen Emrys

Interacting with @Bastille Aurelius
Metions @Persephone Barret, @Jack Burnett, @Aurelia Notrésvace, @Quinn Healy, and @Opeila Seilun

If time had slowed immediately following the scene, crawling to a complete stop as Evelynn surveyed her aggressor, it seemed to kick into high-gear as she made an attempt to disengage. All of a sudden, her worst fear was materializing. Hogwarts had been a fresh start. A new attempt. A clean name without stigma or target. She had expended a great deal of effort to overcome her fear with participating in school-sanctioned events, and had -- much to her surprise -- actually been rewarded. She'd met a lot of students, had more positive interactions with her peers than negative, had founded a club, joined a few others. She had felt welcomed. Normal.

But all of a sudden, she was the center of a cruel joke. Flashes of old memories returned in a blur, confusing the current events as they unfolded. As Evelynn turned towards the exit, she was aware of the arrival of several other students. Rather than concern and anger in their faces, however, she could only hear laughter. Not that any of the onlookers would claim to hear the same, but it was clear as day to her. High, ringing, mirthful laughter. Sadistic laughter, to accompany the jeering looks. She could see them starting already. The prying eyes and curious expressions from students all around, turning in her direction but making no move from their chairs to help. Just there. Enjoying the show.

Only vaguely aware of the hissed interrogation posited by an unfamiliar voice [@Opeila Seilun], it was the Slytherin girl's mocking reply that cut through Evelynn like an elbow to the kidney. "I tried to give her a napkin."

Even the protective kindness of the lioness, Aurelia, had failed to instill any sense of comfort. In fact, to Evelynn, the words were cutting, twisting the blade already firmly planted in her back and exacerbating the self-loathing she felt for this whole stupid affair for having interrupted her role-model's pleasant tea in the first place. Unbidden, elbows clenching ever more tightly about her face as her white-knuckled grip firmed upon her head and neck, the tears started flowing.

If Evelynn thought it couldn't get any worse, she was sorely mistaken. Just as she had committed to making a hasty retreat, she found her way impeded by a certain poncy individual. Dread washed over her, and she choked out something that was half a sob and half a laugh. Of course he would make an appearance when she was at her worst, still hiding in her arms as though trying to fend off paparazzi. She hadn't really seen much of him since the errand for Professor MacTavish back in November, and while her interactions with him weren't exactly negative, he had definitely firmly planted himself within her thoughts as one of those to whom she vehemently wished not to show weakness. There's had been something of an unspoken battle of wits in the few passing interactions since the errand, and she wasn't ready to concede any ground she may have gained.

When Bastille spoke, however, she found herself at something of a loss. She was expecting a tongue-lashing, a mocking comment at her haggard and compromised position. She was half wrong. While there was a tongue-lashing, it wasn't directed to her, but rather those that gazed on from nearby. What was more, he seemed to be one of the few that actually understood that the damage was on-going. Burns didn't stop once the initial source had been removed. The underlying tissue could continue to burn, damage, and spread until suitably cooled. And a burn to the face could be particularly unpleasant; especially for a child.

It was almost too much, really, the gush of emotion she felt at his simple chiding. Appreciation for his brash interruption, relief for his -- perhaps unintentional -- understanding of the situation, loathing to be caught by him in such a compromising position, and just a quickly mounting reality of feeling overwhelmed. She couldn't even answer his question and conclusion that Scourgify would do the trick here. Instead, she was too preoccupied biting her lip in an effort to redirect her pain, regain some control, and stop herself from sobbing altogether. But she did manage a simple, subtle nod of her head at his inquisition to confirm the identity of the one who had upended the tea over her auburn tresses.

And then it really was too much. The question that followed just happened to be that final straw. "I don't know!" She replied in hurt annoyance, not quite able to hold back the squeak in her voice.

She really didn't know. She didn't know what she had done, or why the girl had targeted her, or if she had accidentally offended her, or anything. She just didn't. And she was tired of all the questions. The pain was still pounding. The tears just. Wouldn't. Stop. She was embarrassed. She was humiliated. She just wanted out. All pretense of control all but forgotten, Evelynn pushed forward and past Bastille, picking up speed with every step. She just wanted out. Just wanted to forget that this had all happened. She wanted to go to bed, pull a blanket over her head, and wake up to find out that this had just been another bullying nightmare.

In her haste, she almost knocked into someone -- [@Jo Morgan] -- on her way out. Evelynn didn't bother uncovering her face enough to get a good look at who it had been. Some girl in a black tee and skinny jeans. Nor did she look back when she heard something thud or Healy's commanding voice demanding that "This stops now!". In fact, she barely reacted when feet scampered up behind her and someone ([@Opeila Seilun]) laid a hand on her shoulder as she cleared from the Small Hall with the intent to bee-line it for outside, snow being the only thing on her mind.

Evelynn takes a hasty, wet-faced retreat from the Small Hall.
Leaves the thread.

Interacting with: @ Grisdeldis Edelhardt | @ Alan Vanes | @ Ruka Tân

Alan, before handing over the rose to his friend Griseldis was given quite the warm welcome from his friend. The young lad couldn't help but admire Griseldis looks as although in his opinion, he had always thought she was pretty, today further bolstered that thinking. Upon seeing Gris so happy all of that built stress and anxiety from being in the crowded room seemed to have alleviated as Alan found himself chuckling along with Gris' joke. The boy listened with great interest, never looking away for a second at Gris as she talked about how her aunt made the outfit. When the subject came to his own, particularly the knitted beanie, he replied confidently maintaining eye contact with little to no stutter. "T-Thanks Gris, my mum, made this for me last Christmas and I thought this would be the right time to wear it heh."

Upon holding out the rose to Griseldis, Alan didn't know how to think as in that short span a race of thoughts showered his mind of how this gesture could go wrong. To the boy's surprise, Gris accepted his gift, Alan's heart now racing at this reaction, in his mind fireworks and backflips were buzzing in the young lads head to which he replied a little nervously, His cheek still a lighter shade of red "Y-You l-like it? Really?" At the mention of his present to be thoughtful and with Prefects gentle smile, he was put at ease letting out a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad that you do I went searching specifically for a perfect one, and I'm glad you loved it"

Suddenly as a scream, the lingering thought in Alan's mind disappearing as his attention was caught. Peering over Griseldis shoulder to see the commotion was a Gryffindor girl chased by a short girl watching them walk also led him to assume that one may have hurt themselves. Though it wasn't Alan's concern he thought, the young lad did feel somewhat bad for them as today was to be a relaxing day. Gris pointed out two boys sitting at a table further away from them obviously she knew them based on her reaction, but it left Alan nervous as some of the alleviated stress came back into his system.

Meeting new people had always been quite nerve-racking but not wanting to disappoint he followed Gris as his tone shifted a little back to his usual nervous and stressed nature "S-Sure, let's go say hi I suppose, new friends sound like a good idea." It was clear he wasn't eager, but in the back of his mind, Alan knew he needed to step up a little and keep his head high if he was to grow. The lingering thought on his mind raced back in as they approached his Nan left a small note in the letter when giving ideas for a gift today. With that thought in mind, he reached out, taking Gris hand gently walking along towards the Gryffindor boys hoping that the Prefect didn't reject his approach.

Upon meeting the two Gryffindors, Alan waved to both Alan Vanes and Ruka Tân with a nervous smile as he chimed in along with Gris "Hi, I'm Alan nice to meet you guys."

Word Count: 540 (Second Post) + 473 (First Post) = 1013/600

Errand is Completed