#depulsoevent003

Frank had put off heading down to the party for the viable reason that he simply didn’t want too. Costumes were fun, certainly, dressing up as someone you loved or admired shed some goodness. But the weight of everything was waning on them all. Perhaps he worried too much. Perhaps fear of the unknown was a suffocating thing in itself. As a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he knew he was doing something right. But it didn’t mean there wasn’t an uneasiness settling around him from the last party--as though something said ‘stay in your bed, go to sleep, Longbottom’. Not that he hadn’t stumbled, fallen off it like his legs didn’t work and still manage to dress himself, all while being able to hide the goose egg on the back of his noggin. Now, moving into the clearing, he didn’t waste time--heading right for the refreshment stand, as he juggled the lemons in his hand. Pausing to set them down, he plucked a singular one up, a boyish grin against his face. “Lemon for your thoughts?”

“How am I not cold? Good question.” Walden’s lips tugged into a wicked grin. He’s been hoping that someone would ask anything about his costume. He didn’t want his effort to go to waste. Even with magic, it took him hours to dye and attach all those... feathers.

He had to admit his costume was a bit too flashy, even for him. But who doesn’t want to show-off once in a while? Besides, recent events have convinced him that there was a cause for celebration. Now that he stood bare-chested, wearing skinny jeans and his pair of black wings, complete with a levitating halo above his head, he wanted to flaunt. 

“See this?” Walden used his finger to wipe whatever it was that coated his torso. At first look, one would think that his chest was oiled up, giving his ivory skin a glossy look. But the thing that come off his chest and stuck to his finger was more gel-like. Already he can feel the tincture having its effect on his finger. “Made this out of Fire-Seed and Lavender.” Playfully, he seemed to offer his chest and added, “Do you want to touch it?”

It was already nearing midnight and nothing seemed to be happening yet. Instead of feeling relieved, however, Fabian’s uneasiness seemed to grow. He remembers all too well the last time he was lulled into a false sense of security. He’s sure that something malicious was afoot. But he also can’t help but feel like he wouldn’t know what it would be until morning comes. The most he can do would be to keep an eye out on his fellow students, especially on his friends, and make sure nothing bad happens to them.

Fabian kept his eyes on the crowd. Some seemed on edge - as they should be, Fabian thought - while others were much more lax, going through the motions as the party naturally runs its course. Not that there’s anything natural about this, Fabian thought. Suddenly, a bit far off the crowd, he heard some rustling behind some bushes in the forest. Determined not to have another Xenophilius in his hands, Fabian hurried towards the source of the noise. “Hey, I don’t think you should be wandering off alone tonight.” Worry was palpable in his voice.

Dirk had known that something would happen for Halloween, because it always did. He had decided on his costume days ago when looking at ancient civilisations for History of Magic and discovering that Ancient Roman wizards wore a similar toga dress to their muggle counterparts. After all, in those days the wizarding and muggle worlds were much more integrated. On seeing the invitation first thing in the morning, however, doubts suddenly plagued his mind. “Is this really a good idea?” he asked when he saw somebody else. “After the last party… and in the Forbidden Forest? I don’t…” He chewed on his lips. He didn’t want to go, was the truth, but he was terrified what would happen if he didn’t.

Florence wasn’t interested in most people within Hogwarts. With money came power, status, and an image she wanted to keep. But she wasn’t blind. Look at the sides, the battle lines were clearly drawn in the sand long before school began, even if it wasn’t nearly as clear as to who stood where. As she stepped into the clearing, eying the decoration, she couldn’t help but note—tension. It hung in the air like a noose, ready to wrap around their necks and squeeze. Lovegood’s death was still far too fresh for a party—“But I guess we’re all a little heartless.” She murmured under her breath. Refreshments near her, as she plucked a treacle tart from the platter, turning to face the person nearest her. “Bit tactless, don’t you think—having a party so soon?”

Was it necessary to have another party after the last one ended unfavorably? It was certainly against his better judgment and even worse, tempting the idea of wearing a costume but it seemed better to make an appearance than choose to ignore it. If he ignored it, would it only rise suspicion if this party would end anything like the last? Probably and the last thing he needed was suspicion surrounding him during this time. Besides, didn’t the invitations say attendance and costumes were a must? So Rod did what he needed to do, choosing a particularly ridiculous costume idea as a vampire. The look isn’t too different from his usual, nonuniformed attire and the only thing that was particularly different was transfiguring his teeth to look more like a vampire’s should.

HELL’S GATE had opened its doors to the masses, branches breaking beneath steady footfalls as they’d found their way through the tangled woods. Behind Mary there’d been a red cape billowing in the breeze, Red Riding Hood reincarnate walking amongst the woods once more. Cheeks glowing beneath the lantern light as she’d ridded her mind of any precautions if only to enjoy one evening of simple indulgence. She’d repent for her sins later, better to ask forgiveness than permission, she’d thought as she’d reached out only to be graced with a bottle of firewhiskey. The warmth causing slight sting against her throat as she’d taken a swig faster than she ought to have, allowing her surroundings to swallow her whole. There’d be no wolf tonight, no claws to dig themselves into her skin, no nightmares to keep sleep at bay. Tonight, she’d decided, was something of a celebration. Side stepping away from the crowd, music echoing in her ears as she’d drifted further from the mobs, she’d heard distinct crunch of leaves beneath her feet before steadying herself. Digits curling around bottle tighter as she’d allowed herself another gulp, only to hear a step behind her. “––Little late for a scare, don’t you think?” Her vocals ring unto the night, lingering in the chilled October air as her gaze side swipes towards her company. “Never been much of a dancer, ‘fraid I’d crush someones toes if I managed to find myself up there.” Nodding towards the now well alive horde of bodies ahead.

 The Doctor