Lucian

Taking his arm, Dorcas tried her best to mask the small hint of a blush that pricked to her cheeks. She knew full well that if Lucian picked up on it, she would never live it down. “Thank you, so do you. But I must admit that I’m missing the shorts slightly.”

Allowing Lucian to lead her outside, Dorcas chuckled at the mention of Halloween. “Ah, I’m trying out something a bit different tonight. No tits, and no booze, so you’re without your two favourite things about me.” Bumping her shoulder against his arm, as they moved. “It’s all quite ladylike…but these shoes are a fucking pain.”

He started to move once she took his arm, continuing his journey out of the room. "Thank you," he repeated, looking down at her as she spoke. "I think Eavan would have killed me if I wore shorts. She's already not impressed, though she's been polite enough not to say it," he joked.

"You do have impressive tits," he told her seriously. Lucian glanced down at her shoes, giving a bit of a grimace. "I don't envy you," he commended. As they made it outside, he lead her to a short wall, letting go of her arm and leaning against it. "If Skeeter sees us, I'm not talking the blame for whatever she writes," he warned her.

she can't rub it in his face that she'd done the same - maybe even more - with the girl that she was sure he fancied quite a bit. well, she could, and it would give her quite the satisfaction. but she won't, not without revealing that she'd liked just the act of kissing another woman. "you're a git, flint." she sneers with a shake of her head, wishing it was his line she'd stepped on. "got nothing better to do than bother women all night long?"

Lucian was used to mean girls, his society growing up was full of them, and he considered Rita to be another one of their sort. Most of them just seemed insecure, hiding it by making others feel the same. Luckily, insecurity wasn't a feeling he knew well. "Oh you do have a flair for dramatics, don't you, Skeeter?" he laughed, unbothered. "Don't worry, I'd never expect thanks from you. I know you struggle to see situations as they truly are."

"Oi," Dorcas clarified, "Sorry, is that not posh enough for you? What would a gentleman like yourself say?" Lucian was right, the heat in the Great Hall was intense, and the perfect excuse for her to join him in getting a bit of air. At least, that was what Dorcas would tell herself. This was just an excuse to get air, there was definitely no other motive behind it. Dorcas stood up, smoothing out her dress before taking a few steps to meet Lucian near the exit. "Well, you're in luck. I don't really care anymore. Besides...it's Christmas, the holiday of forgiveness."

He glanced across the room, spotting Eavan in a huddle with some friends and then held his arm out to Dorcas. "Come on then," he said, holding it out for her to take. "You look lovely by the way," he told her as they made their way outside. "Although we both seem to have hidden the assets away," he added, referring back to Halloween.

who: open @noxstarters

she's uneasy. she's unsure why - everything seems to be going fine enough. she's keeping to herself, as per usual, and just observing - but something feels off. rita tries to shake the feeling from her shoulders and attempts to slip through the crowd ( much larger than she'd anticipated it being ), a chill running down her spine as her bare shoulders rub against the silks and satins of the everyone's evening wear. she's not paying attention, and is trying to find some air so she can just breathe - when she hears the classic sound of fabric tearing. except it's not her own, and she stops to glance down and see she's stepped on the back of somebody's clothing. there's a fresh, long rip running up their leg and it's her fault, and the blonde tries not to get too overwhelmed from it all. "fucks sake," she sighs to her self, taking her high heel off the fabric and fishing around her dress for where she's stowed her wand to fix her error. "...sorry," she apologizes, knowing this time it really is her fault and she can't just blame it on somebody else. "really," she adds with sincerity. "wasn't watching where i was going." finally she fishes her wand out and attempts to wrack her brain for a charm that would fix the situation.

Lucian downed the last dribble of his drink - some mediocre fruit punch - and placed his cup lightly back on the table. Really what he wanted was to find something to spike his next glass with so he glanced around the room, looking for a friend who was likely to do so. Instead, he spotted Rita a few paces in front of him, standing on a woman's dress and grimacing at the tear that followed. With a small smile to himself he watched as she searched for her wand, the other woman seeing less than pleased. He watched her look blankly for a moment, clearly having forgotten the spell to repair it, before he took pity on her and took his wand out. After the rather difficult time she had given him lately, and the horrible things she had called Dorcas, he enjoyed watching her struggle too much to help straight away.

Muttering a spell under his breath, Lucian gave a flick of his wand and watched as the dress appeared to seam itself back together. He smiled as the lady looked over at him, giving a (fake) modest shrug in response. "I couldn't let you go around like that," he replied, shooting her a wink before he turned his attention towards Rita as the other woman walked away. "Don't worry, no handjobs, blowjobs, or other nefarious actions were exchanged for that. Sometimes I am just that nice," he told her, holding his hands up innocently.

where: the back of great hall, near the entrance

Dorcas' eyes travelled across an evening that was in full swing, professors were stumbling across the dance-floor in each others arms and a few people had been escorted out for attempting to spike the alcohol-free mulled wine. Her feet aching from the height of her heels, Dorcas needed a few moments before she attempted a numbing spell on her feet in order to return to the dance-floor. For it being a tad later in the evening, Dorcas was surprisingly sober. Only topping up her sparkling wine when feeling brave enough to wrangle her way through the refreshment table.

About to return to the floor, Dorcas turned to glance at her wand when the figure of a familiar person seemed to be heading towards the doorway. Usually, Dorcas only had the confidence to beckon Lucian for a conversation in detention or when she had the dutch courage of firewhiskey behind her. This time though, it barely took a second thought. "Oi Lucian, where are you sneaking off to?" Dorcas called over, amused. "Surely, you aren't leaving. The Lucian Flint I sorta know would never leave a party early."

Now, done with all that, he decided to slip outside and get some fresh air for a moment. He just stepped through the doorway when he heard his name and turned around with his hands in his pockets. "Oi?" he laughed, his eyes drifting over to Dorcas as she spoke. "Shut up, I'm trying to sneak out," he joked, cocking his head to indicate that she should come closer. "I need some fresh air for five minutes, the heat in here is stifling," he explained. "I'd ask you to join me but I know you worry about how things appear to people," he said teasingly.

“Well, I’ve got the tits and you’ve got the legs. Quite the dream team this evening, aren’t we Flint?” Dorcas mused. A flicker of amusement dancing across her face, the idea that he came as a Quidditch Player was the most Lucian thing she had ever heard. Dorcas didn’t know much about Quidditch, but clearly whoever Lucian was dressed as loved to show off just as much as her Slytherin Peer. “Reckless? Do tell.”

"Oh I have to see that," he remarked, laughing at the idea of the snitch costume. Glancing in the direction of the Hogs Head, he nodded his head towards the pub. "Come on, you have to show me who I'm competing against."

"Oof!" She let out. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I -- people will talk?" Sybill was naive. She had an idea of what he was saying, but why would anyone think that about Sybill? "I don't think anyone would think that about me. You're probably safe," she smiled forcefully. She wished someone actuaily meant it but Lucian wasn't going to be one of them. He flirted with everyone he came in contact with.

Sybill hung her head slightly before lifting it to answer the question. "I'm taking a break from studying and running around the castle. Needed to get my legs moving and venturing the castle has always been a great way to accomplish it."

He raised an eyebrow at her rather unconvincing smile. "You're very pretty. People could easily believe you're up to untoward things in dark corners," he disagreed. He did flirt with everyone, yes, but that didn't negate the compliments he did give. With her big brown eyes and sweet smile, she was undeniably pretty even if she wasn't is type. "Although you'd probably be too good to get up to anything untoward with me," he added with a cheeky grin.

It was getting chilly outside but Sybill wanted to take a walk. She had been in her room studying for hours and hours and her legs needed a good stretch. Instead of facing the chill, she decided to walk the castle. It had been some time since she had done so. She used to do it quite frequently but hadn't as she got older. Her studies became more and more intense as she grew up.

Wandering the halls she watched the portraits move here and there, talking to each other, talking to her. She laughed along with them and scoffed when appropriate. Her favorite part of wandering came when the staircases moved. It was almost like she was at the fair that she had gone to with her parents. They took her somewhere new.

As the stairs moved, she reached the top and bumped into someone, laughing. "I'm so sorry. These stairs, you know?"

After searching his dorm and the common room he still hadn't found his book so he took a walk around the castle to look for it. He searched the great hall first - got distracted with people he knew - and then started to make his way to the classroom he was last in. He was waiting for the stairs to come back when someone hurried off them, knocking into him.

"We've got to stop meeting like this, people will talk," Lucian said with a wink as he held Sybill's arms to help her so she didn't fall back down the steps. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he jokingly teased, taking a step back so she had space.

"I have to give people like yourself a chance don't I?" She jested, taking another sip of her drink. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"I think I'm pulling it off pretty well," he commented, gsturing to his outfot. "An old quidditch player," he replied, guessing she wouldn't know the name. "He was known for being a bit reckless."

If all things were equal, Eavan could happily spend her life ensconced in academia with her nose buried in a never ending series of dusty texts. Unfortunately, all things were not equal, and Eavan was destined for other things; she’d always known she could not waste her years at Hogwarts by dedicating them solely to intellectual pursuits. Instead, Eavan pretended to care more about her social life than her academic achievement, and an integral part of that facade was Lucian Flint.

Lucian didn’t figure in Eavan’s long term plans, for one thing they would make an absurd couple based on height difference alone, but he was a convenient, and even willing, prop in the meantime. It was easy to flirt with him confident in the knowledge that he would never read too much into it, after all, Lucian flirted with everyone. So Eavan would seek him out from time to time, just to make a show of being silly and social and girlish. 

Tonight, Eavan approached Lucian with a textbook and parchments clutched to her chest, eyes wide and hopeful. “Can you help me with my essay on bonding charms? I just can’t seem to articulate the nuance.” She fluttered her eyelashes, making a show of pretending she needed help, even though they both knew it was just a convenient excuse.

He was still disappointed by their last quidditch performance, feeling like they had lost a match they very easily should have won. Quidditch was one of the very few things he enjoyed in the castle, and while he didn't take it as seriously as a lot of people, no one enjoyed losing. He flicked through the magazine, hoping to find something he could give to the captain to boost their morale.

Finding nothing of any use he was just about to close it when he felt someone draw near. He looked up, nodding his head at Eavan. "Alright, Burke?" he asked, laughing as she asked for his help. "Sure," he answered, gesturing to the chair opposite him for her to sit down. Eavan wasn't someone Lucian spent a lot of time with, but being in the same house and major they crossed paths often enough to develop some kind of friendship. Mostly it was just easy and flirtatious, an easy way to keep entertained.

where : outside the Hogs Head

The taste of cranberry on her lips from far too many cocktails at one of the fair stands, Dorcas made her way through the crowd. Stopping outside the Hogs Heads at the sight of a familiar face.

It has been awkward between her and Lucian Flint for a while. Ever since the kiss last year, but if Dorcas admitted it to herself, she missed chatting to him. Even if it was just a stupid conversation to pass the time in Detention. It had been a particularly dull year so far, and perhaps it was her tipsy state of mind or it was the lack of Lucian Flint in her social calendar.

Dorcas made her way over to Lucian and tapped his shoulder, “Nice legs, Flint.” A mischievous grin on her face as she spoke. Would she regret this conversation in the morning? Maybe, but right now she didn’t really care.

He had had a few drinks with Alecto, enjoying the fair and wallowing in the awful quidditch game they had just lost. He had enjoyed a couple of pints with her in the pub but he was now wandering outside, rather regretting the shorts and t-shirt as he dug his hands into his pocket. He was trying to decide whether to go back inside and join some people he knew or see what was happening elsewhere when someone tapped his shoulder.

He raised his eyebrow in surprise at Dorcas stood in front of him, a quick laugh leaving his lips at her comment. "Thanks, Meadowes. I see you've got yours hidden away."

What was an event such as this, with shops open into the late hours as well as sales all around, if not the perfect opportunity to purchase early Christmas presents of birthday gifts at that? It seemed like almost too perfect an opportunity. No other reason could ever be grasped for someone like Selma to find herself in front of the little quidditch shop within the village, very much intend on finding a gift for a few of her more quidditch affine friends. Her eyes scanned the shops window when steps near her caused her to turn, curious who else may be found near such a shop.

"Where is he," Alecto mumbled to herself, eyes narrowed, as she moved her way through the crowds of people lumbering up and down the cobblestone streets of Hogsmede. There were pixies and princesses, dragons and merfolk, but to Alecto's eye, there was no one that looked quite as perfect as she did. She loved her costume, loved the gauntness of it, and it meant she was fairly easy to find in the crowd.

She couldn't say the same for Lucian though, though perhaps she just hadn't been looking in the right places. She loathed to spend any time with those outside of her house, and Lucian, despite their closeness in age, was someone she felt she had perhaps been depriving of the glories of her presence for a little longer than was fair to the poor man. She was a gift after all, and she did feel she owed him a drink after that miserable loss to Hufflepuff in Quidditch a few weeks back.

She turned around again, prepared to give up the entire thing and go find someone that didn't apparently blend into the crowd so well when she saw what she thought was a walking watermelon. Closer inspection revealed that no, it was not a fruit, but rather an old Quidditch uniform. There were only few people Alecto could think of that would wear such a thing on a holiday like this and so, after briefly gazing to the sky in hope for aid that was unlikely to come, she walked over to Lucian.

"There you are," she called out long before she ever arrived near enough to him to be heard over the din. "I've owed you a drink ever since that loss to Hufflepuff and I think the pub a few streets up is doing eyeball shots. But, first and most important thing first, why do you look like a watermelon?"

That wasn't to say he wasn't going to dress up; he still enjoyed that side of things, he was just putting a little less effort in. He donned a striped t-shirt, shorts, and an old robe to play a part he knew no one would recognise. He hoped people might at least recognise the quidditch team, but so far no. He was dressed as "Dangerous" Dai Llewellyn, a deceased Welsh Quidditch player for the Caerphilly Catapults. He was known for dangerous - borderline stupid - moves that Lucian thought were quite inspiring.

Well, that and it was the only quidditch costume he could think of and achieve pretty easily.

Despite his plans to get drunk, he was currently very sober and searching for a friend to entertain him. Just as he hoped for a friend to come by he heard a voice he recognised calling out and turned around to see Alecto. He groaned as she brought up the previous match, shaking his head. "Oh don't remind me," he sighed, still struggling with the rubbish result. "A watermelon?" he scoffed, looking down at himself. "I'm Dai Llewellyn," he told her. "The very famous quidditch player."