âWhat does a guy have to do to get a drink around here?â Ted questioned to no one in particular, hoping someone would point out the drink table for him. He swore he had walked in circles ten times trying to find it.Â

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âWhat does a guy have to do to get a drink around here?â Ted questioned to no one in particular, hoping someone would point out the drink table for him. He swore he had walked in circles ten times trying to find it.Â

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where: masquerade with: open
ironic, wasnât it? to see all of her classmates in masks, and yet they were behaving more honest to one another than when all the feathers and livery fell to the wayside. perhaps these physical masks replaced the ones they wore day by day. for a night, all the truths were let loose. narcissa poured herself a drink and stood in the corner of the room, observing, when she was approached by a stranger, or not a stranger, she didnât know. the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly, living in the mystery of it all. âgood evening.â
where: masquerade with: open
dorcas had been waiting all night for a good song to finally be played. she loved dancing- always had, and it was one of the few grandmother approved hobbies that she could pursue at home. she reached her hand out in invitation. âcome on, dance with me!â
okay, so maybe if she was totally chill and collected-nobody would realise that in the cup she was holding there was spiked punch. it wasnât like she couldnât drink it considering everyone else did- but, she was slightly on edge about it for no reason. when someone approached her, they didnât even to look at her or ask, she just blurted out as if sheâs been holding it for so long: â oh, i promise you this is not spiked punch- it actually taste like carrot juice. carrot juice is great. but, itâs more of a combination of carrot juice and regret. i meant apple.â
« Uh, I wouldnât drink that if I were you. I saw Sirius linger around here earlier, » Gideon raised a brow at the cup in the otherâs hands. Heâd seen the Black fumble with his flask a short while ago and he hadnât touched the table since.

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â FUCK. â sirius mumbled as his hand slipped, the contents dripping down his wrist. he switched the flask to his other hand , pouring it into the punch bowl whilst licking the liquor off the wrist of his free hand. he wiggled his hips and hummed against his wrist , surprised that the music this time wasnât half bad.Â
just the sight of a marauder within a two meter vicinity of a bowl of pumpkin juice was warning to leave well enough alone for complete plausible deniability, so when sirius heard footsteps approaching , he jumped , hastily stashing the flask back in his jacket and spilling even more on him in the process. he braced himself , expecting the worst ( mcgonagall ) but praying for the best ( anyone but mcgonagall )
â I WAS DOING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WRONG. âÂ
âIs there not- Is the bread not here? I thought I saw someone with bread over here.â
Event: masquerade ball Involved: Evan Rosier & Kingsley Shacklebolt
All evening theyâd been making eye contact from across the room. The handsome stranger in the sharp tux with the searching gaze was looking again and Evan couldnât help but stare back. Even with a room full of their classmates Evan couldnât drag his eyes away. He wondered if he was staring perhaps a little too intently, but the other guy was hardly ignoring him.Â
Every now and again, more often than he probably thought he was, Evan would turn back from his conversation to seek the other guy out from across the room. There was something about him; something... familiar, but Evan couldnât put his finger on it. Heâd met so many people at so many parties over the summer and he couldnât be expected to remember them all. Well, he did remember one. But the likelihood of it being the same guy heâd thought about for the better part of a month was slim to none.Â
Finally, he couldnât take it anymore. He sought the other guyâs gaze and motioned so subtly with a single tilt of his head for him to meet Evan outside. He made his excuses to his friends and threaded his way through the throngs of dancing people towards the exit.Â
(bataillexroyale)