♫
Where this Lekëon tale begins, or rather, continues, few inhabitants of this realm would be able to identify this place. There is a heavy stench of burning from just beyond what appears to be a small village. It is a familiar smell, though it probably shouldn't be. From within the glades of the surrounding forest, tall trees adorned with leaves the shape of stars, a woman of graymalkin skin and two-toned hair slowly approaches the village. She looks around for a moment, strange tattoos embedded in the wrinkles of her skin just above and below eyes dyed with the ink of sea foam. Unassuming passerbys pay her no mind as she moves through, the burning smell that filled her senses fading the deeper she moves into the village core.

At last, the woman reaches the ancient structure that casts a shadow over the rest of the village. It looks crafted by the hands of something primordial and natural, the testament of a place left untouched by the mires of Royal and Parliament commonwealth. There is only one way in and one way out, it would seem. She enters cooly. No one makes a fuss at her presence; they know who she is. She passes through a room of stonewall, room after room she continues. Discussions can be heard from one, something more disturbing from another; perhaps it was the faintest of whimpers that drifted from under a locked door.

Far within, the woman goes until she reaches steps and descends a spiraling staircase, windowless and awashed in nothing but flickering candlelight. Her eyes glimmer as she passes each hanging fire. At the very end of what seems like an endless, bottomless pit, an unusual door sits queerly against a wall of weathered stone seen from above. The door is ornate and of lilac, the handle unnaturally gilded. This door, it does not seem to belong here. It doesn't fit, somehow. And yet here it stands, a juxtaposition against cracked stonework that would bewilder most others.

The woman can tell the door is locked. It's always locked, and there is no key. But that's okay, for very few things remain closed to her. In one breathless, barely audible motion, she leans forward and whispers to the door, "Open," and it obeys her command without hesitation. As she enters the room, the door closes behind her, and she is standing squarely in a room crafted for a child. A bedroom. It is just as queer as the door through which she entered. It is ornate and grand, royally Edwardian, like a prince's room from a palace or fairytale. No one else seems to know that this room exists and looks as it does. It does not fit the village that it hides beneath. There is a bed, and the room is filled with that unmistakable lilac. Windows exist here too, but they're engulfed in a film of glowing white. There is nothing to see, no world beyond to gaze upon longingly.

And at the small of the room, tucked away in a tiny alcove, is a young boy sitting in front of an easel, his nightgown covered in paint and his hair matted as though he had not awoken long before she arrived. "How is the painting coming along, Sparrow?" she whispered from behind him. Sparrow turned, and when his eyes met with hers, they beamed. "You've come back to visit me again," he says cheerfully, resting his paintbrush on the table beside him.

"Yes, Sparrow, I have." She gives the boy a look that's more expecting than the delighted expression he was hoping to see from her. The boy stutters, turning back around to look at his incomplete painting, and his lips subtly dip, "Ummm, it's not done yet. But I promise it will be soon, mam."

The woman cooes, "Oooh?"

Sparrow nods, thrilled that she returned his smile. "Yes yes!" he said, more excited now than before, "It's coming along quite nicely, I think." The woman comes closer and rests her hand on his shoulder, feeling his warmth. They share a gaze, and then both turn to look at the painting together. There are vestiges, specks, the starting of what looks like white tiny strokes cascading upon one another. The woman grins knowingly, her seafoam eyes filled with anticipation and witchlight.

"Wonderful."

NPCs [+]

???


Sparrow

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Day 1 ◈ Time: Evening ◈ Weather: Light Rain ◈Location: Skyship [Lower Deck Passanger Compartment] ◈ Participants: Petyr@Aeolian, Tessa@Mirandae

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♫
The world of Lekë, or at least in this hemisphere, had settled into a warm, temperate evening as the goldmoon (sun) began its somber descent behind the watery horizon of the Endless Ocean Below. This, of course, was no typical sunset; it heralded a night of festivities, costumes, dancing, and glamour. The topic of discussion for everyone at Harold's Academy was tonight's quarterly Moonlight Masquerade Ball, which, to be honest, Petyr was not keen on attending.

At present, he was lounging on a bench within a long-distance passenger skyship. This vessel was large and capable of seating hundreds of people. Petyr, naturally, looked for a room that was the least occupied, being sure to avoid one room in particular that housed a woman and her crying infant. His legs were crossed at the ankles and his head rested against the back-wall. Down below in this part of the skyship, there were no windows to admire the sunfall, much to his chagrin.

But he wasn't alone. Tessa was there too. In fact, she was the only reason he was even attending this quarter's Moonlight Masquerade Ball. He had skipped them year after year, but with Tessa's return to the Academy as the Mentor of Homeroom Class 20, well, she was a girl who knew how to be persuasive when she wanted to be. Now, they were in this skyship returning back to the Academy from the capital city (Great Locswald Rose, The Rose City) for a very specific purpose, a task assigned to Tessa by Headmistress Minerva, which then, Tessa cleverly dragged him along with her to help in the effort.

Petyr, was unimpressed, as he was with most things, despite the successful outcome of their, well, Tessa's assignment. He was just an unwilling accomplice.

"Yeah, remind me to, NEVER again, throw myself at a salacious 50-year-old opera singer well past her musical prime. Thank you for that experience, Tessa." Petyr began, his eyes closed firmly and his hands clasped behind his head in a nonchalant, but also weary kind of manner.

"Salacious? Oh, it wasn't that bad,"Tessa began with a shimmering smile after having taken in her student's words with wide eyes. "Penelope is kind of a big deal, you know. She is really going to give the Academy's image a nice bump, and you helped with that, so you should feel good about yourself--" Tessa's endless type of blabbering fired up. "--And she's not past her musical prime, silly, what are you on about?" She giggled, gently tapping Petyr's side with her hand.

"Penelope Upperton is an iconic figure not only for her ability to sing really well, but also for LITERALLY, SINGLE-HANDEDLY influencing Elara Lyra's Winter Collection this year. And, my cait is named Lyra -- are you saying that you don't like my cait, HMM?!" Tessa leaned closer to Petyr with a devious grin on her lips, clearly being sarcastic.

Unfamiliar with the latest fashion brands, Petyr opened one eye to see Tessa brimming with glee, warranting a disapproving headshake. "All that sounds like to me is just another one of your obsessions." He paused for a moment, grinning, "What was that other one called again? Aery Asma, or...something like that."

In the middle of the aisle, an old man sniveling and carrying a handkerchief, blew his nose with the violent intensity of a small bomb. This man was obviously sick, garnering a look of distaste from Petyr, who side-eyed him all the way down the open corridor. Petyr saw little sparks fly from the man's mouth and nose every time he sneezed, so he squinted as the old sickly passenger disappeared from sight into the next room. He turned back to Tessa, that mild look of disgust still plastered on his countenance.

"Anyways...she's no Percival Strange, so my interest for--" he briefly adorned a jokingly snooty tone of voice "Lady Penelope Upperton--" his voice went back to normal, "--runs VERY thin. Cute cait though."

"Obsessions?! Me? Never." Tessa leaned back into her proper sitting, folding her arms. She tried to suppress the little smirk on her lips, relishing teasing her students, but hiding it never worked well for her. "Yes, Airwave Asthma, that's the one." One of many of Tessa's little things was to distort names even further when someone got it wrong in the first place. The name of the fashion brand Petyr referred to was Aurum Astra, but it was all the same to most people. Tessa suddenly jumped in her seat at the sick fellow blowing his nose with the noise of a literal cannon. A silent "Oh my God..." escaped Tessa's breath as she stared at the man, returning to her banter with Petyr once the sick fellow was gone.

"Yes, caits are cuuuute." Tessa curled both her hands at her jawline for her signature pose at the thought of the fluffy little things, the corner of her eyes wrinkling in a smile, especially at her very own -- Lyra. "Well, you've got to admit that Penelope is at least talented even if, maybe, she isn't THE best--" Tessa continued off of her high thinking about caits, but she interrupted herself mid-sentence. "--It looked like that guy that just walked past us was sneezing fireballs, did you see that or am I going crazy?"

Half listening, Petyr nodded carelessly as Tessa went on and on, even giving her an amused grin when she did her 'I'm obsessed with this' pose. But, she was right, he admitted internally. Penelope was one of the greatest singers of the modern era AND it was a big deal that the Academy booked her for tonight's Masquerade Ball. According to Tessa, however, this booking invitation went out to Lady Upperton months in advance, and they were only now able to confirm her attendance. The singer was a notoriously famous diva with a penchant for cute men, which was why Tessa dragged him along in the first place, ostensibly. The kiss on his cheek, though, now THAT shook him to his core. He spent hours in the lavatory trying to wipe off her lipstick print on his cheek. After the deed was done, Lady Upperton casually admitted to him that she forgot to switch from the lipstick she wears when kissing autographs because she was so, as she put it, "--very enchanted" by his odd-colored eyes. Just his luck.

It was only when Tessa mentioned the sick passenger did Petyr finally respond, shaken from his brief revelry about Lady Upperton, "No, I saw it too. He must be a Mystic, like us."

Petyr turned back to the threshold where the sick man had disappeared through earlier before, staring with a reinvigorated and, admittedly, concerned curiosity.

---

Day 1 ◈ Time: Evening ◈ Weather: Light Rain ◈Location: Harold's Academy [Headmistress's Office] ◈ Participants: Headmistress Minerva@Aeolian, Professor Magus Babalu @Aeolian, Kaspaan Mustaven (Mentioned) @Deja

---

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♫
At Harold's Academy, the light rainfall patterned against Minerva's stained glass windows. Most classes would have already ended at this point, so the Headmistress understood that she would need to check on things regarding the upcoming Masquerade Ball tonight.

The drapes in front of her desk were pulled back from the morning, which Minerva had spent the better part of 10 hours, as a matter of fact, looking over scroll after scroll -- for what, though, that was to the disclosed. Before she began whatever she had set out to do in her office, she'd explicitly warned everyone not to disrupt her focus unless someone died or fell through a portal. With a pair of monocles nearly hanging off her nose, Minerva began the long, arduous task, even skipping breakfast and lunch, waving away an Academy handmaiden on both occasions when they tried to bring her something to eat directly from the kitchen.

It was only now that she heard the etching of ink upon her Ollivander Parchment III laid at the corner of her desk. It was the third model, which guaranteed a faster transfer of messages. This was the work of someone on the other end with their own Ollivander Parchment, writing to her. A person would use their vitesse as ink and then write using a quill directly onto the parchment. After writing the recipient's name at the bottom of the parchment, it would appear on the recipient's parchment, no matter where they were. As it worked, words were magically appearing on Minerva's parchment as though the object were writing a letter to itself. This quiet reading went on for some time, a look of urgency growing on her face, brows furrowed, and eyes maddening. It seemed as though she'd just become privy to some really serious information, though not wholly clear.

Minerva started when she heard a soft knocking on her door. There was an ambiance to her room thanks to the fireplace and candlelight; it saturated the room with a warm glow. But she felt cold inside from what she had just read on the parchment. She tucked it out of sight before walking up to her door and flinging it open.

She was on edge, not giving her guest a moment to speak, "I've already told Mr. Grisvögel to handle the arrangements for Lady Upperton at the Guest House. My time today is very preci--"

Minvera was interrupted by the deep, male voice that escaped from the lips of the figure that stood before her. The person standing in the threshold was none other than Professor Magnus Babalu, one of her closet confidants and the professor of the Gifts class. His face was equally as stern as hers, but he always had a resting bitch face, so this was just another day for him. Magnus stepped into her room, shutting the door behind himself. "It's not that," he said calmly.

Minerva had returned to her desk as the bald man with the perpetually severe expression sat in an empty chair adjacent to her. He crossed his leg, one over the other, and clasped his hands together on his knee, waiting patiently. "Well, don't just sit there silent, Magnus. You've already disturbed me, so what is it? Has Mr. Mustaven been caught joy flying again? I swear to the heavens, I don't want to hear another complaint about that boy." Minerva always addressed her students as Mr. and Miss., plus their last names, regardless of their age.

Magnus cleared his throat, stirring in his seat feebly, "Err, no, it's not that either, Madam." Minerva kept silent, just giving him a look implying that she wanted him to spit it out already. Professor Babalu continued, "I imagine it probably has to do with that Ollivander parchment you were reading."

Minerva looked at him coldly, "Don't play with me, Magnus," she said.

He responded in jest, "When do I ever, Madam?"

She took a moment to think, "Make sure there's no one around that can hear us."

Magnus nodded, understanding what Minerva wanted him to do. He closed his eyes, and after a moment of silence and stillness, a third eye, identical to his original two, fluttered open on his forehead. It magically grew right out of his skin. It was not an appealing sight to behold. Magnus's third eye was looking around the room, but was seeing far beyond that limited space. Through this third eye, he could see, in his mind, the other side of Minvera's office, down the hallways, through the corridors, and even much farther beyond that. But he didn't need to check that far. He scanned the surrounding areas that were relevant to where they were, and when he finished, he opened up his normal eyes, causing his third eye to close, disappearing back into the flesh of his forehead skin, not a trace that it was ever there at all. He nodded reassuringly that all was clear.

Minerva nodded, understanding the urgency, "Now, tell me what you know."

---

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The note hung forlornly on the desk next to Kaspaan's bed, crumbled and tattered from past ravages. Cigar wasn't to blame, no not ever, he hung on his customary perch like a beacon of wisdom for Kaspaan in such times. Yeah, the boy glanced over at the note, then his familiar, and back. Their glance were an unspoken conversation, of how his temper was to get the best of him and how the raptor disapproved. He stuck his frosty tongue out at his feathered friend, readjusting his new outfit as he did so.

He might not like the current relationship he had with his mother, but she did have nice taste considering her current whereabouts. True, a bit old fashioned but Kasp felt he could make it work as he shifted from shoulder to shoulder in the mirror that hung by his desk. Of course House attire must be present also, so he donned the fuchsia fixture on his next donating he was of Ivar and proud. It shone brightly on the dapper linen that was tonight's attire. The colors contrasted, but it did not both the rascal too much. What he really needed was a mask, and he knew just where to find one.

---

Day 1 ◈ Time: Dusk/Evening ◈ Weather: Light Rain ◈Location: Harold's Academy, Main Ballroom◈ Participants: Kaspaan Mustaven @Deja

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Why did he listen to Tess? This wasn't a great idea, but hey, free food right? Kasp shrugged, joining the more noble of class in the formative line that had assembled at the entrance to the ballroom. Perhaps he'd come across a familar face but he doubted it, most of his friends were fast asleep or doing something disciplinary/troublesome. He sighed with a snowflake whisp in the air, causing a student next to him to giggle. A small girl of stature by the look of it. She smiled and waved eyeing Kasp down, who mustered a grin and a stratch of his head before returning his gaze back to the entrance of the ball. Who'd all made it here? Kaspaan 's emerald eyes started searching rabidly, he'd catch someone's gaze soon perhaps. In the meanwhile he thought, he'd need a disguise per custom. So he willed up a hefty few breaths, cupping his hands across his face as he did so. It looked rather melodramatic but the after effect was a thing icy mask across his eyes.

"That should work, I wonder if I can cut ahead.." as he spoke he looked cautiously around for a familiar face.

---

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Behind the queue of students, a girl crept up through the hallway, hovering a few inches off of the ground so that nobody would hear her approach. A pair of slit-pupilled eyes, peering out from a black and gold cait mask, scanned the line. The corners of her lips twitched into a mischievous smile.

Given the choice, Sylvia wouldn't be here. Exploring the grounds would have been much more appealing, save for two things. One, knowing Tessa, she'd make sure as many people as possible had to attend. Two, the weather would put a literal damper on roaming around. Rain drummed on the windows, droplets trickling down. So, here she was, adjusting the sash of the only formal dress she owned, thankful it was at least relatively easy to move around in. Oh well, she supposed party food would make it all worthwhile, as would getting to pull a few pranks.

Her gaze settled upon a familiar head of messy blond hair. Kaspaan Mustaven, her 'partner in crime', as she called him. As he busied himself materialising a mask of ice, Sylvia took advantage of his distraction. She snuck to the side, planted her feet lightly on the ground, and once he'd finished making his mask, leapt out at him. "Mrooooowww!"

Chuckling, she pushed her mask up. "Hey Kasp! Good to see ya here." She glanced around, and lowered her voice. "Well... Not so good that it's pretty much mandatory to be here, but you know what I mean. At least there'll be food."

The underside of her nose tingled, turning dark like that of a cait, and she sniffed the air. A myriad of delectable scents wafted from the ballroom - pastries, various cheeses, sausages, smoked salmon. "Pretty great food at that, by the smell of it."

Day 1 ◈ Time: Dusk/Evening ◈ Weather: Light Rain ◈Location: Harold's Academy, Main Ballroom◈ Participants: Taegan Granlock @Crimson Flame Kaspaan Mustaven @Deja Sylvia Copeland @LuckyBlackCat Fasha Sumbul (Mentioned) @jasbraq

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Taegan dedicated considerable effort to prepare for the ball, an annual event they eagerly anticipated. With an undeniable fondness for such occasions, they relished the chance to showcase their opulence and noble stature.

Taegan made their entrance adorned in an exquisite gold gown, which they would promptly correct you not to mistake for yellow. Enhancing their attire were intricately crafted gold jewelry pieces, harmoniously complementing the regal aura they exuded. Adorning their head was a resplendent gold tiara, an unmistakable symbol of their esteemed status. While they had lost the Illuminaire title this year, Taegan’s genuine nobility resonated throughout the school, and they ensured that no one would dare overlook it. Since this was a masquerade, they also wore a golden mask. Even though they preferred not to conceal their features.

Taegan arrived to find a queue of students waiting outside the ballroom. Good, they would have time to make a showstopping entrance along with his date. They had asked Fasha to accompany them to this ball. It was clear to them that she was using them for their wealth. So Taegan figured it must have been ok to use her for Illuminaire status, if they couldn’t be Illuminaire themselves. It was a mutually beneficial relationship, no?

While he waited for his date to arrive, Taegan decided to have a chat with another familiar face who had made it their. “Kaspaan, wonderful to see you here.” They patted the younger student on the head. “I adore your ensemble!”

It was then that he noticed that Kaspaan had someone with him. A girl who appeared close to him in age, and had a black and gold Cait mask on. “Ah, I see you bought a date as well.” Taegan noted, looking at her up and down, not sure what to make of her. “My date is on her way, I’m sure.”

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Nooo~! I don't wanna gooo~! Raffaella had pleaded—somewhat fussily and with mist in her eyes—to her lifeline, Tessa. Raffaella had scarcely begun to settle into her new life and get her feet wet at the academy yet. She knew pretty much nobody, yet was already being tasked with dressing up and going to a social event; it was sure to be hard on her. Tessa knew how to keep her shy little wall flower motivated, though. With the promise of a "sweet reward," she'd been gently persuaded to go. Of course, she loved her sugary treats, but she loved a mystery even more—a little fact that Tessa had subtly picked up on in the few short months they'd spent writing back and forth leading up to Raffaella's orientation, and in the days since. Still, there had been some haggling involved. She didn't need to talk to anyone if she didn't want to; Tessa just wanted her to be there. With that settled, Ra'fel agreed to give the preparations her all.

The dress was, as suited her, predominantly pink, with white accent, and very frilly. White and wine-colored rose patterns decorated it. It came with a matching shawl that covered her arms and upper body like a blanket. A medium-sized red ribbon in front, and a large one in the back completed the set. Stepping into her rose-colored heels, she gazed into the mirror, blinking. She was almost standing at a somewhat normal five feet tall, now—what a weird feeling! Finally, she put on her mask—a gift from her father—a blush pink colored one to match her look, with little diamonds carefully placed to accent the corners of her eyes. She also wore, on her head, a small, wine-colored thing that her mother called a "cocktail hat." It was covered in feathers and reminded her of a dreamcatcher. She was wearing a dreamcatcher on her head. "I look silly," she remarked quietly to herself, pouting in the mirror in disbelief. Still, she'd promised Tessa she would go, and that was that. "Time to go, Pooka," she whispered sullenly, gathering up the ball of white mossy fur in her arms.

Despite her eye-catching appearance, her walk down to the ballroom was uneventful. Nobody looked at her, yet they cleanly avoided her without thinking, like one with cortical blindness avoids obstacles while walking without being able to actually see them. For Ra'fel, this was normal life. Unless she did something crazy, she wouldn't be noticed—but, that was fine with her. She was shy and didn't want to be noticed, especially not in this ostentatious getup. So she walked, her rare albino gupoo with pink daisies as her sole traveling companion. As she did, the ephemeral threads she called "heartstrings" tickled her body uncomfortably as they phased through her, giving a sensation not unlike walking through cobwebs. This was yet another reason why she disliked crowded places. Inevitably, people who were connected on a spiritual level but physically apart would create heartstrings in her path that she'd just have to walk through. As long as she didn't touch them with her hands, they'd remain mostly incorporeal, thankfully. It's for this reason that she kept her hands to herself at all times.

At last, she made it to the ball, or at least, the ballroom. It seemed as if nothing had actually started yet, except for the food on offer. The smell made her hungry, but she didn't want to get in trouble for eating before everyone else. Thankfully, she hoarded sweets on her person for just such occasions. Holding Pooka under one arm, she retrieved a little paper bag from inside her shawl and opened it up. She stuffed the strawberry shortcake swiss roll into her mouth, her cheeks tingling with delight. "Mm~!" As she enjoyed her little snack, she looked around the room at the unfamiliar faces. There was one absolutely, terrifyingly tall man—lady—person? —that she was glad she wouldn't have to talk to. There was also the energetic cait girl that Ra'fel was tempted to talk to, but couldn't get past her shyness. Then, there was...

"...Boss Kass?! Is that you?! No way!" she blurted out in shock.

With a sound like a prolonged, forlorn sigh, the spot in which she stood became hazy, shimmering like the illusion of an oasis in the desert. Gradually, Raffaella became visible, standing there in her ballroom dress and cocktail hat, wide-eyed with shock as she stared at Kaspaan, remnants of the icing from her pastry gracing her pale cheeks. Suddenly, everyone remembered that there was a new addition to the House of Ivar, a petite and cute but desperately shy girl named Raffaella. She stood there, frozen, her face pale as death, bordering on translucent. A younger student body could have been convinced that they'd seen a ghost. However, as the reality of her outburst gradually seemed to sink in, the life inside of her became apparent as her cheeks flushed pink. Terrified by the new sets of eyes on her, she suddenly squeezed her pet gupoo, causing the poor creature's eyes to bulge slightly, and its body to shiver, creating a small cloud of pollen.

"Hwa... ababa..." she stammered, trying not to sneeze. _{"Het—chieuw!"} she squeaked into her hapless pet.

"...S-Sorry," she apologized to no one in particular. Trembling with fright, she hid her face behind the fuzzy puff ball in her arms.

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"Mrooooowww!" came out of nowhere for Kasp, who'd closed his eyes in his haste to make a 'disguise'. Seeing as how Sylvia had spotted him, there was no such luck for the troublemaker.

"Hey Kasp! Good to see ya here." He jerked them back open through a frozen façade making a tiny crackle of fractures. Furrowed brows gave way to a soft chuckle as the identity was revealed however. One of these days I'll be the sneaky one! he thought of, that and how much younger he was than his accomplice's grace at the moment. Blushing with the rain drumming along he nodded. The glass panes around them reflected shades of every hue of the night as Sylvia lamented, the patter hiding prying ears. She was right after all, food was pretty essential in getting the little noble to do anything around here.

"Pretty great food at that, by the smell of it." declared his catty co-pilot, to which sparked a grumble from his stomach. He opened his mouth and rose to balls of his feet to announce back but was interrupted by a soft familiar voice.

“Kaspaan, wonderful to see you here.” The older student gave a friendly gesture to which made Kaspaan hide a smirk under his mask. Tae? thought the boy as he rapidly flew up on his toes to spin and catch the friendly remark, crimson coattails flowing behind.

“I adore your ensemble!”, and so the smirk became a full gleaming smile as he looked up with exuberance at the compliment. "Oh it's just something my family wants me to wear, it's got nothing on yours! Stunning!" And it was, the glow that Kaspaan flew in made him almost weak. oh man I need to eat His stomach growled again as he looked over at Sylvia with a compliment, "She just jumps out at ya, right?" he paused as Tae looked her over, mouthing silently to the nose the knew across from him where is the food?

“My date is on her way, I’m sure.” made Kasp cock his head quizzically. He hadn't exactly been keeping up with his nobility these days, but surely it was someone of status. That was his expectation that lead him to ask, "And whom would tha...?" Before he could receive his answer however, his past came back as did his attention to the little girl that had suddenly appeared.

"...Boss Kass?! Is that you?! No way!" his scraggly bangs flew across the chilled mask as he searched, then downward, towards the large hat apparition before him. Do I know of this girl, my age...yes! Confusion became shock which in turn became bemusement and cheer unmissable as he crouched a bit and exclaimed.

"Raff! Oh my Waaga miss, you've got into the sweets again! It's been ages, how have ya been? Oh by the way this is Taegan, and Sylvia! Harold n Ivar elders of course..." he said trailing off as he motioned with a thumb at the blemish on her rosey cheek, attention to food right back in his focus. Her escape and apology into her rare gupoo made the noble boy smile as her shyness really got to his funny bone. Best not to laugh at her, but it did make him chuckle.

"They sent you here too? No way! And and of House Ivar too wait.. nevermind" a flash of concern flew into his eyes over seeing the Ivar medallion being worn. He brushed aside the thought of privacy mostly after a third triumphant gurgle of his core rang out embarrassingly.

"He he, welcome!, This is Ra'fel, and I, need to eat." he announced as he turned back toward his two elder classmates.

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"Roooight, where'd I leave it?

Walter dug through the chest containing his belongings along with other stuff he held onto. Old pipes, nails, sand, all sorts of things were in this disheveled grab-bag of a chest. "Aha!" He exclaimed, producing one of his school books which was a compendium of chemical formulas. Being new to this place he needed to make the most of his time if he was going to get any good deals struck. With the power to turn any liquid into any other liquid he's seen before it made sense to try and find every liquid that's been made. Like a magnetism manipulator carrying metal things it just made plain sense to do.

Top it off with other classes demanding his time and attention as well as his many side projects and this kid was spread thinner than a somatic that can turn into paper. Shuffling the books into his capacious backpack he hooked a spray bottle on his belt and went up to a dorm mirror that was laying around. They were told to dress up for the occasion but truth be told outside of his school uniform his good clothes were but one of the few sets of clothes he actually had. Anytime he wasn't in his school regalia he was in what was ostensibly his finest garments. As such it was hardly surprising that this set was a bit worn. He'd even had to reinforce a seam one month back.

_
"Hmm, let's see: books? Check. Spray bottle? Check. Ink Pen? Check. Spare cups? Check. Folding table? Check. Tips jar? Check. Water refills..." He looked over to a couple large sealed jugs of water, tethered together with fabric that's been fashioned with a makeshift handle as they sat next to his feet. "Check. What else I'm I missing? Hmm." He pondered before remembering a specific quality of this particular ball.

"Right! A mask. Probably ought to get m'self one lest I fail to meet the dress code 'gain." He snapped his fingers in a eureka moment of realization before looking once more through his box of stuff. He had some old rags he could fashion into something. Taking one just long enough to wrap around his head he cut out a couple holes using the sharp edge of his metal ink pen before dipping the cloth into a cup of water he had sat upon a nightstand. Changing the water into ink he dyed the cloth black. All that was left was to let it dry a bit before he threw it on, checking out his handiwork in the mirror.

"Hm, rather roguish, Heheheh." He chuckled, looking out at the manic-haired young gremlin staring back at him with those dark greyish blue eyes of his. The look reminded him more of a raccoon's color patterning than that of a rogue's mask. Perhaps there was some room for overlap in that field but given his overall apparel his look was more the former than the latter.

"Eh, people ain't gonna be shopping for my looks. Drinks sell, don't matter how upscale the venue. I'll just end up selling more champaign and less whiskey is all."

_
With enough self monologuing he picked up his spare jugs of water and set forth, floating out from the windows despite warnings from the staff not to do it. He knew he wasn't supposed to but any rule without a sufficiently discouraging punishment was essentially a suggestion and when it came to suggestions like those Walter would kindly suggest that folks not stick their noses too far in each other's business. Money waited for no-one, especially not busy-bodies.

As he left the dorms he checked out the gutters he had rigged to send the rain water down into his rain barrels he had set up. From the looks of the weather it was going to be a fairly hearty crop. The way he saw it it was like free money raining from the clouds above. Everybody would just let it go to waste on the floor but himself? All that sweet sweet water was all there for the taking. He checked the setup, giving the rain barrel a hearty pat on the wooden rim before continuing on his busy way.

Of course he walked most of the way, flying was just about as sluggish given his equipment weight and took perhaps even more effort than it took to just walk. Using vitesse was exhausting, at least for most things non-liquid related. It was funny, he could change an entire swimming pool into mustard and it'd be not only easier but way faster than moving a barrel of water twenty feet off the ground using his flight.

'Course it seemed everybody and anybody was already there ahead of him, or so it seemed.

"Hello 'erybody! Special occasion so for this evening only drinks are free!" He announced with chipper charm as he squirreled past the many students standing around chatting so he could find a corner of the ballroom to set up in, at least when they were allowed to enter that is.

"I'm happy to take special requests and if you got a sample of a drink you want I can certainly duplicate it for 'ya. Don't forget to tip your friendly serving staff and yours truly."

For others? A time to enjoy the luxuries. For Walter? The grind never quits.

---

Day 1 ◈ Time: Dusk/Evening ◈ Weather: Light Rain ◈Location: Lisa’s Bedroom, entrance to Eusebia Commons, then Main Ballroom ◈ Participants: Lisa Goldheart @Frettzo

---

---

Lisa furrowed her brow. She was having trouble breathing, and it felt like a mountain itself had landed on her shoulders. It wasn’t a physical effort that she was exerting at the moment, no – It was a mental one. She huffed and wiped a few beads of sweat from her temples. For heavens’ sake, she thought, why did her parents have to make it so difficult for her to choose what to wear? Was this yet another test of her nobility? A way to see if she’d ‘learned’ her place as a noblewoman yet? She nearly gagged at the thought, and instead settled for making a face in the mirror and running her hands through her wavy black hair.

With a sigh, Lisa turned towards the several outfits laid out on her bed and gently ran her hands over the only one her parents would realistically approve of while still managing to be airy enough to not die of heatstroke, a simple yet elegant gown made out of a custom blend of cotton, linen and silk… Overall, a safe choice in terms of material and style, although she’d have to rely on the materials and haute couture to show how expensive the dress actually was to fellow nobles.

Nearly half an hour later Lisa stood in front of her full body mirror and nodded in satisfaction. Skirts really weren’t her style, but if she did not wear a proper gown to the Academy Ball she would hear about it for years on end from her parents and older brothers.



“W-Who are you and what have you done with Liz?!”

Lisa rolled her eyes and lightly slapped Li on the arm. He winced and rubbed the spot, “Was a joke, a joke!”

Lisa looked away and rubbed her neck awkwardly, “Y’say the same thing before every Ball. I know I look ridiculous but-”

“Wrong! You look amazing, Lisa. Different than usual, but amazing nonetheless.” Li declared and after taking in Lisa’s growing blush and scowl with a smirk, bowed slightly and motioned to the path towards the Ballroom. “So, shall we go now, my definitely-not-pretend-beautiful-sexy-girlfriend?”

“Y-Yeah.” Lisa pinched herself and took a deep breath. “Let’s go, Li. Try and keep the randos off of me this time, please?”

“Oh you know me, if I see a pretty girl inviting me over with her eyes, I can’t stop myself from sharing my attention with her!” Li chuckled and started walking down the hallways towards the Ballroom, with Lisa hooking her arm around his. “Or are you saying you want me to look at you and only you, Liz?”

“U-Uh… No?” Lisa’s voice cracked and there was a short silence, until they both chuckled.



As soon as the pair arrived at the Ballroom, Lisa went straight for the table where the food was laid out and made herself a plate. She was hungry after all, and dancing with an empty stomach while dressed and made up like a clown would probably be worse than getting stabbed. So, as she bit into a piece of bread with cream cheese and salmon on top, she turned around and saw that Li had disappeared into the crowd, likely to chase some random girl.

Lisa swallowed, grunted and set down her plate, her hunger gone and replaced by a complex mix of emotions deep in her stomach that she had no time or desire to unravel.

“That idiot…” She muttered and crossed her arms, her musculature barely noticeable under her dress.. As if on cue, a second year walked up to her.

“I’m really thirsty, can you help me out? I think you have a six-pac-”

“No.” Lisa growled at the guy, who immediately ran away and back to his little gang of dorky friends. “Here we go…” She sighed as she saw yet another member of that group approach her. Situations like that were why she never wore makeup or fancy clothes if she could help it.

---

---

---

Fasha, even if she would hide her status in ornate dresses and jewelry she was still a low-born at the end of the day to much of her annoyance, although making sure it isn’t shown on her face. Uuugh, at least with them I might be able to make Ana jealous…

Fasha, wearing a soft smile on her expression, made her entrance. Adorned in an ornate blue dress ornamented with gold and gemstones. An Illuminaire has to show off at least a little. A feathered mask to cover her features, not that her features were that easily concealable.

The Illuminaire of Ivar’s approached the group with a small wave. ”Good evening.” She bowed towards her date before putting her gaze at her underclassmen. ”Sylvia, Kaspaan.” Her eyes scanned their attire before smirking. ”You both look great together!” The temptation to pat their heads was something almost irresistible.

Then another face was present, a girl… wearing a Ivar medallion ”Kaspaan, do you know her?” A confused expression was plastered on her face. A soft sigh escaped her, trying to get to a face to face level with the girl with a warm smile.. ”May you be one of the newer students? My name’s Fasha, mind if I ask for yours?”

---

---

---

"I'm sorry Nana."

Arthur looked in the mirror contemplatively and sizing up the suit he would wear for the night. It was a gift from his grandmother and one of the few things he had received from her since being at the Academy. She purchased a suit and shipped it over in the thought that he would be going to so many 'big-city events'. And of course, he wrote all about them in the letters he sent back. But he had lied to his grandma in those letters.

The truth was, due to all the trouble he caused in his first years, Arthur found himself banned from most of the grand social events. He could understand the Academy's decision considering there was a good chance he could ruin it. But it still hurt having to lie about that to the folks back home. While he wrote back about everything going swell, the suit just hung in his closet for the better part of a year.

When they lifted the ban so suddenly, Arthur was taken off guard. He was hardly some good little reformed student. But he could guess that his trouble-making tendencies had eased up enough to where they didn't see a need in keeping it up. Or maybe the headmistress secretly wanted him to shake up the whole ball. He chuckled to himself about the absurdity of the idea.

Either way, it was no secret that the young man had mellowed out somewhat from his start at the Academy. That could be a concerning sign that he was growing duller in his convictions. But Arthur knew that wasn't the case. If anything, there was only room to calm down from the firebrand he was only a year ago. The change was an improvement. Despite his current flaws, he might even impress a teacher or two now...

He shuddered at the thought. Maybe not that far.

Still, the Moonlight Marsequrade his chance to prove to the Academy that he could be somewhat trusted. If he were to screw it up, that's probably him banned from events for another year. So he had to be on his best behaviour.

On the way out he snatched up a hip flask of some whiskey he bought from Walter a few days back and slipped it into his coat pocket. Even on his best behaviour, a few rules needed to be broken.

---

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---

Some light rain was a non-issue for one of Arthur's mystic talents. He could sit outside as long as he wanted and remain completely dry. And tonight he was making use of such a talent sitting on a rooftop watching the lamplit street below. A gradual wind current churned above him to redirect the raindrops further down on the roof's decline.

His dorm was far too empty with everyone heading off for the ball and it was far too early to be considered fashionably late. So Arthur opted to spectate the other students filtering into the Ballroom's entrance from a distance. It was a passably entertaining sight, certainly helped along by the occasional swig of his flask. With any luck, he would be buzzed by the time he actually arrives.

---

---

Day 1 ◈ Time: Evening ◈ Weather: Light Rain ◈Location: Main Ballroom ◈ Participants: Lisa Goldheart @Frettzo, Lhoren Ashdale @Silver Carrot

---

---

Lisas’s eyes, glazed over, half-lidded purely out of the sinking feeling in her gut and chest, suddenly brightened up. She blinked and rubbed her eyes before looking back at the guy in front of her. He was wearing a hand-me-down suit, probably his grandfather’s considering the length of the coat. What had caught her attention so suddenly though, was that he was no longer blabbering about six-packs or crushed watermelons, and had finally shut his mouth.

The pale, skinny, freckled guy smiled nervously at her, perhaps feeling a sudden wave of confidence at what to him no doubt looked like Lisa’s approval of his barely-rehearsed pick-up lines.

That smile vanished nearly as quickly as it appeared.

“Got it out of your system? Good.” Lisa said and pointed at his group of friends with her eyes.

“S-So… Wanna hang out with me sometime?”

Lisa raised an eyebrow and leaned as close as she could towards the guy’s face before he started to inch away. “And do what?”

The guy stuttered, face flushed, and he quickly began to nervously twiddle his thumbs, “... Homework?” He asked hopefully.

“No.” Lisa rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and leaned back. “I don’t get it. You saw the other six guys get shot down. You can see I’m pissed off. I even told you to go away with my eyes. Why would you still approach me with a ridiculous pick-up line involving my thighs and a watermelon farmer’s nightmare? Go back to your boyfriends, don’t talk to me unless you got something real to say.”

The guy practically shook in his badly-maintained leather shoes, ran his hands through his hair, and then quickly walked out of the ballroom. Lisa cringed and rubbed her temples. She’d snapped a bit, she realised, but could she really be blamed? Before she could finish her thought however, yet another guy began to approach her.

Is this hell? She thought to herself, was she being punished for something she did in a past life? As the guy walked closer and closer, she realised with dread that this one hadn’t even had a shower in probably the last five days. Why did she have to go through this kinda crap? Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, talking to friends and getting ready for a long night of partying, everyone but her, because her best friend had ditched her to go hook up with some random girl.

”Hey, Lisa! Been looking for you!” Lhoren cheerfully exclaimed, seemingly having come out from nowhere but now suddenly by Lisa’s side. While she was talking, she sent a secondary message telepathically. ”You look like you needed a save.”

Lhoren had been mingling so far and had been heading for the catering table when she had read the thoughts of embarrassment and resentment from all the boys Lisa shot down, and her own weariness at having to deal with them. The moment she picked up there was another one who seemed convinced he was going to have better luck, Lhoren had decided to step in before she even knew which direction the boy was in.

Lhoren was currently wearing a white ballgown and violet butterfly mask, and had preemptively shot down several attempts at lame pick up lines herself before a single word had even managed to have been uttered. The moment she heard them think the line as they approached her, she transmitted her own…constructive feedback into their heads before they had finished their approach. Most of them had taken the chance to play it off and pretend that they weren’t trying to approach Lhoren at all.

”Hey, there’s something over here you’ve got to see!” Lhoren added, gesturing discreetly with a head tilt to the other end of the food table and away from the thirsty pack of boys. Lhoren’s face never betrayed a thing.

“Oh! I see it, c’mon let’s go!” Lisa grabbed a hold of Lhoren’s hand and guided her as far away from the crowd as she could, not even trying to hide the relief on her face. When the two had finally escaped from the second circle of hell, Lisa turned around and gave Lhoren a quick hug. “Lhoren! Thank you so much, you have no idea how long I would’ve been standing there if not for you. You’re more reliable than some other people I know, for sure.”

Lhoren paused, then returned the hug. It took her by surprise that she could feel Lisa’s muscles through her dress, and she let go before Lisa did. Lhoren had purely platonic feelings for Lisa now, after getting to know her the past year. However, Lisa in gym wear played no small part in Lhoren realising she wasn’t entirely straight, back before they knew each other properly.

Lisa took a deep breath and released all the tension in her body when she exhaled, then disengaged the hug and rested her hands on Lhoren’s shoulders. “You really saved me there. I might’ve actually had to hide somewhere at the rate things were going. So, how have you been? Overheard anything interesting since we last talked? You look great in that gown and mask, by the way, are you trying to impress someone?”

”Why, thank you! But I can throw that back at you,” Lhoren replied, smirking as she opened her eyes which had a cheeky glint in them. ”I don’t think you were trying to get people to think you look pretty in your dress either. As for overhearing anything interesting, you know I have. But I don’t tell other people’s secrets. Ashdale policy.”

“Fair enough about the secrets. And yeah, I only dress like this ‘cause my parents hate it when I wear trousers to formal events. Say, d’you want to go for some fresh air? Being stuck inside with all these mouldy, damp thoughts must be stifling.” Lisa offered, finally stepping back from Lhoren’s space and clasping her hands in front of her abdomen in what could only be a half-assed attempt at looking like a Lady. “I know a nice place with a ledge, and if we bring something to eat we can probably skip all the small talk bound to happen in events such as these.”

Lhoren paused, looking deep in thought as she considered it, before she smiled again and shook her head. ”Sorry, the night’s still young and I’m still in the mood to socialise. I might take you up on that offer later though, so look out for me!”

Lisa chuckled, “Of course! I’ll be outside for a while, but you can come to me if you need help with anything.” Lisa gave Lhoren a thumbs up and started to make her way towards a side exit before abruptly stopping, loading up a plate with several pieces of food, and continuing walking away while waving at Lhoren. “Thank you again for the save, by the way. I owe you one for sure.”

Lhoren waved back until Lisa was out of sight, then started to walk away before remembering why she had come to the food table in the first place, rolling her eyes at herself, and returning to fill up her own plate.

Anastasia found herself perched precariously on a rickety step-ladder in the grand ballroom. With determination, she continued the delicate task of draping the bunting across the expanse of the room, ensuring each flag fluttered proudly to represent the various islands within the realm.

As she meticulously adorned the hall, memories of past balls flooded her mind, recalling the enchanting evenings that had unfolded within these very walls. The polished floors gleamed under her feet, reflecting the vibrant hues of the upcoming festivities. The transformation of the ballroom from a simple space to a magical haven was the result of the tireless efforts of the Student Council.

However, a slight annoyance lingered as some members of the council conveniently neglected their responsibility to assist with the preparations. Their absence was keenly felt, but Anastasia found solace in the reliability and dependability of her fellow Illuminaire, Myrion.

Ana's focus remained unwavering as she descended from the precarious ladder, surveying the ballroom with a critical eye. The elegant decorations adorned the walls, exuding a timeless charm. Delicate lace dollies graced the tables, complemented by opulent floral arrangements that filled the air with their sweet fragrance.

Though the ballroom stood empty, it seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of the transformation that awaited. Anastasia's heart swelled with pride as she gazed upon their collective efforts, knowing that the forgetfulness of some council members would not diminish the magic of the evening. The dedication and hard work of those who rallied had turned the ballroom into a resplendent haven, ready to enchant all who stepped foot inside.

---

Ana searched for her date, knocking on the door, but there was no answer. She wandered through the halls until she reached the gymnasium, where she found Leah engrossed in her workout. The blue haired girl practically lived there, so it wasn’t too difficult to find her. Even on a day like today, when the gymnasium was devoid of all life, as students prepared for the Moonlight Ball.

Leah, for her part, had conveniently forgotten that the ball was today- all the preparation and strict bookkeeping in the world was ineffectual if one didn’t actually read what they wrote down in their planners after all. So lost in her own world, Leah didn’t even notice that the gymnasium was empty until she heard the echoing footsteps of her fiery haired date.

Entering the room, Ana approached Leah, observing her with a gentle smile. She couldn't help but question Leah's chosen look for the evening. "Are you certain that's the look you want for the ball tonight?" she asked, her tone laced with amusement.

”What’s wrong with how I look- wait, w-what? Shock crossed Leah’s face, a remarkably crisp planner flying across the room to park itself in front of her face, pages rapidly turning to the present day. Circled multiple times in multiple colors, and even labelled ‘do not forget!’ was the Moonlight Masquerade Ball.

Moving closer, Ana placed her hands on Leah's muscular form, using her healing gift to massage the tense muscles and alleviate any build-up of lactic acid. Her fingertips glowed with a gentle warmth as she worked, kneading away stress. "We can't have you cramping during our dance tonight," Ana remarked softly.

”Ooh… right… that was today…” Leah managed to get out, her voice instantly rendered low and relaxed as she felt the gift working its literal magic. Letting out a soft sigh, Leah’s face grew nearly as red as Ana’s hair, ”You know I don’t like- I’m not good at… dancing…”

---

The two girls retired to the room as they prepared for the evening, supporting each other with their elegant and exquisite dresses, Ana’s a fiery red and extravagant, Leah’s a soft blue, flowing like ocean waves. Annoying, hard to reach zippers and clasps were easily manipulated, and jewellery was easily donned, thanks in part to the Psyciccher’s telekinesis.

”Wow, this looks amazing!” Leah remarked happily, offering Ana a sheepish grin, ”Thank you for finding something for me so fast! I meant to- I just, well, I forgot.”

Ana smiled warmly and said, "I had a feeling that blue might be your colour." She gave a knowing wink as she straightened her up, transforming her into a true heir of Eusebia. The joke elicited a scoff and a pair of rolled eyes, but Ana wasn't wrong. Surprised with how well she cleaned up, Leah made a few half turns, absent-mindedly lifting and moving a full sized mirror around herself so she could check her angles. "There will be many important people attending tonight. Is there anyone in particular who has caught your eye?"

”N-no!” Leah replied before quickly recovering herself, ”I mean, not really. I never really had time to think about dating or anything last year.” or the years before that, for that matter, but Leah didn't vocalize it. She didn't want to seem ungrateful for her opportunities- or possibly give Ana second thoughts about the amount of work she was about to receive.

Ana finished adorning herself with her own adornments and gave a little twirl before Leah, proudly displaying her appearance as the blue haired girl clapped excitedly, moving the mirror in turn around Ana, so she too could make sure everything fit right. "This will be my first year attending as an Illuminaire. You never warned me about the amount of work involved," she said coyly, aware of Leah's frequent complaints about the workload. "Some of the new students seem fun. It's hard to believe it wasn't long ago when we enrolled here ourselves. Even Tessa has made a grand return."

”A handful is what they seem like," Leah retorted, for once seemingly relieved that the responsibility was no longer on her shoulders. ”One of the 1st Years is a Psychiccer though! Oughta keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't get herself into trouble."

”Also, I still know where the grotto is.” Leah, reminded her with a light chuckle. ”If the Illuminaire workload ever gets too much for you… you can pay me in massages."

Ana's smile widened at the offer. "Don't tell me you're becoming addicted to my healing," she playfully teased, wagging her finger in a mock scolding gesture. "I might have to ration it for you. We wouldn't want you getting too reckless now, would we?" Her tone carried a cheerful chiding, as she maintained a light-hearted demeanour. "But I appreciate the heads-up. It seems like there's quite a bit of work ahead of me."

Finally, setting the mirror down in front of the two of them, Leah grinned and nudged Ana with her elbow. ”You know, I think red might be your color after all.” the taller girl teased.

---

”I’m just saying, if you needed help, you could’ve just asked.” Leah remarked as the two strode into the ballroom, arms casually linked. The edges of Leah’s dress seemed to ebb and flow gently against the shined floors, an easy enough effect to create with her gift. ”You know, move stuff with my mind- wait, you weren’t using those crappy stepladders, were you?”

Ana's smile remained as she responded to the comment, "Well, at least we're improving our balance skills while we're at it," she said playfully, giving a slight wiggle of her hips to emphasize her point.

”I-I have balance!” Leah protested indignantly, her lips pushing out as she pouted a bit, ”Usually…”

Despite how early it was, people were already beginning to filter into the ballroom, a decent crowd for the time. Small clumps of students began to grow into larger crowds, the general din growing into something of a dull roar as more and more students filtered in. Scanning the crowd, Leah very quickly picked up a pair of familiar figures. Lisa, despite her dress, was easy to pick out, as was the pale head of hair that was Lhoren’s. Conversely, it wasn’t difficult to spot more than a few sets of eyes on the two of them as they stood by the entrance.

”I think I see some familiar faces over there,” Leah grinned, ”Maybe we find some safety in numbers before our fans start crowding us.”

---

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Oh no. I've been seen! That wasn't supposed to happen! Raffaella panicked. Deep breaths. Dee~p breaths. Breathe. She peeked over her gupoo, intent on focusing solely on Kaspaan. She was going to talk to him, and anyone else watching could just—get bored and go away? Except, that 'plan' didn't entirely work out. Because the face she found looking back at her was Fasha, not Kaspaan. What?! Don't just leave me here! she thought frantically, looking past Fasha at Kaspaan as he retreated toward the generous table of food.

She looked around nervously at the assembly of students in front of her: the tall, distinctly and intimidatingly noble one, the feisty cait girl who'd tried to get her scare on with Kass, the walking drink bar with an eye for trouble—and then there was Fasha. She seemed a bit different. She... could talk to her. Yes. "H—Hello. Um! M-My name, is! Raffaella!" she blurted out desperately. "—b-but my friends call me Ra'fel, and! Um! ...Ineedtocatchupwithmyfriend! Bye!" ...and with that, she took off. Yes, maybe she could talk to one person, if it was someone like Fasha—but with all those extra eyes on her... it was impossible. Nope, nope, nope! ...Oh well, at least she'd be able to tell Tessa that she managed to introduce herself to someone. Though she didn't really give Fasha her name, more like... bludgeoned her with it. ...Details!

—and come on, Miss Illuminaire! Can't you just know my name already so I can catch a break?! she thought, fussily and anxiously as she approached the table in a hurry, placing herself between Kaspaan and another girl. Another from House Ivar, a Psychiccer named Lhoren. They hadn't struck up a conversation yet, so it was fine, right? It was fine, right! Though she'd only run about thirty feet, she stopped to catch her breath. Sure, physical activity wasn't really her forte, but it was more about the whole 'forgot to breathe' thing. Eventually, she'd turn to look at Kaspaan. "Hey, so... This is where you've been! I thought you were mad that I missed your birthday, ahaha..! Um, you're not mad, right? ...B-By the way, I'm a Psychiccer, but I'm not a mind reader!" she assured him. I'm not lying! I'm not a mind reader! I'm not, she told herself firmly. I just have, um... a lady's intuition! Yeah! She then realized that she should probably tell Kass what her actual gift is. "Oh! Um, like you saw, I can turn invisible, but like... super! Super invisible!" she tried to explain, struggling a bit to remember the unfamiliar words Tessa used to describe it to her. "Uh, Tessa would know how to explain it better."

---

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---

Planning a big event was an art and a science, you had to account for several things such as the number of people that would assist, the location, the 'theme' of the event, and a myriad of other factors that would influence it, everything had to be accounted for so there were no errors at execution, thankfully the full might of Harold Academy Student Council was more than match enough to make sure that such endeavor was met with a resounding success.

At least in theory.

In reality certain someone decided that they had helped enough and left some of the work unfinished forcing the rest to pick up the slack, earlier he had seen poor Anastasia hanging from the ceiling trying to decorate the room at the best of her capacities. Still, he much preferred his own duties over decorating, no matter how stressful they could be.

"...the Cheeses go to Table 5 and the crab puffs to Table 7 please!"

The catering service was slightly delayed but thankfully they had finally arrived, he had been worried that he would have needed to ask what Kitchen staff there was currently at the school to prepare some snacks but with this, the last of his duties was officially over, the band designed to play had arrived a few hours earlier and were prepared to start playing once the signal was given, the fireworks team had left everything prepared the day before and the tailoring expert was discreetly hanging on an out-of-the-way corner attending to someone who had a wardrobe malfunction. All in all, he felt confident saying that the event was running without a hitch and that barring a serious emergency nothing too catastrophic was going to happen (His mind tried to suppress the unlikely scenarios that kept popping on his mind).

Which left him with a dilemma.

He... had nothing left to do, he didn't even have a date as he had forgone asking someone to accompany seeing how he had assumed he would have to keep busy for the entire night, looking around he spotted some familiar faces but restrained himself from approaching, he was not shy by any measure but something was holding him back from joining those he recognized (With the exception of Taegan's group as he doubted either of them wanted to enter an argument this night in particular) he felt slightly out of place, it wasn't his clothes, his mother had handcrafted those and he knew they were beautiful, perhaps it was just how plain his mask was in comparision-

"Hello 'erybody! Special occasion so for this evening only drinks are free!"

"I'm happy to take special requests and if you got a sample of a drink you want I can certainly duplicate it for 'ya. Don't forget to tip your friendly serving staff and yours truly."

A commotion brought him out of his reverie, a drink-based stand? He felt his eyebrows narrow, that was not part of the catering service he had contracted, making his way past some gawkers he came across said to stand and the one responsible for making it, by the looks of it a first-year -A Mr. Ozwyrd if he was not mistaken- had decided to profit from the event using his gift. A part of him wanted to ask him politely to pick up his things but he stopped, had the boy tried to claim payment for his service there would have been a problem but the way he was going at it he was essentially giving a free service.

That didn't mean he wouldn't impose some rules.

He pushed past some other students and fixed one with a glare when they tried to complain, a few seconds later he was in front of the busy entrepreneur with his arms crossed and a stern gaze "Mr. Ozwyrd, I was unaware you had asked the Student Council if you could set your own stand" he raised a single eyebrow to empathize "Well? I am listening"

Racks of tools, assorted schemata, works in progress arrayed on tables at the many workstations and the slightly acrid smell of burning material that never quite dissipated no matter how clean the students kept the building. Just like any other day where she found herself a fair bit of free time, this was where Corrine Marchesi had sequestered herself away for the night. It was deeper into the strangely tortoise-shaped building that her own station was, having taken the course several times now and working her way through advanced artificery to show for it. While most of the other students seemed to have an eye for keeping after themselves and cleaning their workspaces, Corrine's was perpetually in a state of chaos from her constant tinkering and theory-crafting. Sheafs of parchment were stuck to each of the three walls of her station displaying an eclectic array of assorted schematics and assemblies blown up across disconnected papers. It was how her mind worked, shifting from project to project as she came up with new ideas, new thoughts on old concepts, new concepts entirely, and old concepts worked into new designs. Sometimes, like tonight in particular, she obsessed over particular things. An obsession spanning from a few days to weeks until the idea came to fruition or a rapid unscheduled disassembly.

This time was an older idea of hers, a hand on the table matching her skintone having been replaced by the one she was currently using as the right hand. Instead of the normal four fingers and a thumb there were an array of telescoping digits with clamps and vices to allow more fine and stable manipulation of her work. Distantly she thought she heard the door open, a sudden chilly draft easing through the building made all the more obvious by the lack of forges working. With the swish of her left hand the work-glasses came up and set into her loose black hair as she turned to regard her visitor. It took a long moment to recognize the ever-shifting and ever changing girl, especially as she seemed to have a knack for not looking her age, but the moment she opened her mouth to speak she knew it to be Manny. Like her, she was someone from outside the more 'normal' society of those more intrinsically tied to the parliament. She had often enough gone on about the Free Peoples of Marthial to Manny, though knew better to ask too much about the Yharta, having glanced through a cursory bit of their history. Two quite different peoples, though proudly independent. In a way she felt like Manny was a bit of a little sister to her, with her own gift bringing her a share of problems like hers. Though she had to admit the lack of a pulse sometimes took her by surprise personally, and it certainly was an amusing time explaining to the healer from House Harold.

"Guoooooo....." The sound of Mr Puff broke the initial silence between Manny greeting her and her own response, looking over to find the turquoise ball of fluff lurking underneath a stack of loose papers, smears of ink causing them to stick. "Oh no." Perhaps it really wasn't ideal to bring the gupoo along with her on one of her light night benders in the shop, but she felt like he would get lonely otherwise. So she reached down to free the adorable little puffball from his prison of paper and set him up on a nearby stool before directing her attention fully to Manny. "Was the ball tonight? I thought it wasn't until next week... Ah, but your mask does look rather nice. I had planned on making one but-" As if on cue she caught the glint of metal off to the side and reached over to clear up a bit of space, a featureless mask laying there propped up against one wall of the workstation. "Oh, nevermind. I guess I already made it. Though I still need to go change if I'm going to actually attend, there was this thing I was working on here. That rotary mechanism I talked with you about a couple weeks ago? Had some more thoughts on scaling and material composition... Ah, right you're probably looking for the metal wire. Uhm... I think the professor recently restocked, so it should be with the rest of the supplies. I could probably work it for you if you need though, so let me know, yeah?"

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Kaspaan made his turn and Raffaelle stammered, he used the small reprieve of Fasha's attention to scamper away hungrily. He was sure Sylvia would follow suit once she saw his hungry intention. Frankly Fahsa intimidated him and not just because of her rank in their House. Something about her made him feel like a marionette being flung around by her words. Broadcasting his fear of manipulation wasn't going to make him any friends here so he tried to shake the thought that maybe his old friend would get into his mind, literally as ice shook off his mask. He'd have to make sure to grad Tae a plate too if he were to dare venture near their date again.

Considerations on his privacy were shoved aside when he came up to the table. The little lady between him and salmon was passingly familiar with each other, not that Kasp's Psychiccer distrust wasnt well known. He himself was solely focused on the food so much so that he failed to notice Lhoren's identity even. Chatty couples and flustered staff broke up the staring Kasp was doing standing at the catered table dumbstruck at the mind reader's attire as he waited for his turn to serve himself.

Wooow, she's gorgeous... everyone here's dressed to impress! Wait is that... The girl that had been serving her plate turned, butterfly mask jeweled wing twinkling on his frozen counterpart. Yup, that was Lhor, Tess must have convinced the whole Homeroom to show up it seemed. Kasp rolled his eyes quickly, he wanted to eat not have his fortune read! He radiated hungry vibrations as filets of fish were stacked onto his plate. The little scampering foot falls of his old friend Raff were all that gave him warning as she approached.

He stammered, bemused and slightly amused as well,"Mad? I'm only mad you missed seeing my gift!...mind reader? I mean if you are that's one way to end up here... " he gave a chuckle and snapped his fingers in a small puff of snowflakes and frost. "Oh you're not aye? Lhoren here will let us know!", casually mentioning her classmate beside her. When she let him know her true gift was when his attention shifted from playful to curious.

"SUPER invisible? I mean you did give me quite the scare! They say I'm an Elementalist, and you are like a lot of Ivar's, a Psychiccer. She did mention a new group of faces soon, I'd have never thought I'd meet you here though! This place can be pretty fun if you know what's up." A wink snuck under his mask causing it to drop slightly. Kasp readjusted it and grumbled mostly to himself "if you can stay outta trouble that is.." She rambled off and Kasp stuck a big bite of food in his gullet, nodding along with Raf'el.

"Yeah Tessa gift is like people I think, but she tells me to pay attention more around here. Kinda hard!" the rasacal jerked his head around looking over the big hat Raffaella was wearing to see if he could spot any more homeroomers, and sure enough Leah & Ana were incoming. He shoveled food in in face, wondering dully who else was out in the crowd. Plenty of the best dressed competition, he thought cocking a brow forgetting his place in his salmon serenity for a moment before leaning back down to Raf'el "Pssst... just stick close to me you'll be fine, they blame me for everything around here and you can hide away with your super gift! Laughy Raffy n Boss Kasp are gonna knick all the sweets again"

Manny took a peek at the project held in Reiny's artificial hand (that kind of reminded her of a bird's foot) and saw what looked like two oddly-shaped cylinders stuck together. She'd heard enough from the student engineer to know that "rotary mechanisms" made things turn, and that sticking them to other bits would let machines move in all sorts of different, non-turning ways. She, however, couldn't quite remember what Reiny had said "a couple weeks ago" about them. Was it that materials with more friction let the mechanism be smaller and still turn bigger things? No wait, wasn't friction bad?

The younger girl decided to keep quiet about having forgotten and instead focused back onto her own project. Her friend had offered to help, which was very nice and Manny was sure Reiny could make something really amazing, but it wouldn't be the same as doing it herself and so she turned it down.
"Keip doin' wut yer doin', Ah goddit!" Manny waved and scampered off to retrieve the wire. The artificer girl's designated workstation was close to the back of the building, where the extra tools and material stocks were stored, so it was easy enough to still carry the conversation while she looked around. They just needed to speak louder, which Manny had no qualms about.

"Ah ferst thoaght ta' make mah maisk lak a Skagait Keiper's, but Ah coodn't fahnd any waht feathers," Manny called back as her eyes travelled up and down the metal shelves holding a variety of tools and supplies, "Aind ther's no way Ah cen get sheills for an Oceangait's. But Ah saw these pointy leives end thei're great! They don' look lak ainy of th' stoery daincers' maisks, but Ah lak 'em. Oh... Ah geiss ya don' hav stoery daincers if ya don' celebrate the Dawckin' Feistival..."

When the girl found what she was looking for, a shelf covered in spools of wiring of many different materials and thicknesses, her voice trailed off. There were definitely more to choose from than she had been anticipating and she needed a moment to think. Eventually, she selected the thick copper wire, as the orange-y color looked to go well with the green leaves of her mask. She returned to Reiny, spool in hand, and nabbed a pair of wire cutters. Everything ready, Manny gripped the end of the wire between her teeth and rotated the spool with her hands to unravel it. While she did so, she examined the mask Reiny had leaning against the wall. It was a simple shape of polished metal, merely molded to fit over Reiny's eyes if Manny were to guess.
"Eit's beiry shah-y, but et's a wieddew blain, ai' it?" she attempted, the wire between her teeth making her words even more incomprehensible than usual.

After freeing a good length for a couple antennae, Manny carefully cut twice to get two wires of equivalent size. She then held the segments up to her forehead to feel how they would look when attached to the mask. They were a bit long, but if she did any reshaping then they would shorten anyway. Manny then turned to Reiny.
"Wha' d'ya thenk fer th' tops? Cur'ly? Squieggly? Put sum'in on 'em?" she asked, wiggling them for emphasis.

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