#nox.event042

there's a pause after the words finally register on viktor's mind, it's comical, the way he slowly glances up at her: puppy eyed, almost silently begging her to say she's kidding; and then just BLINKS for a moment. taking it all in at the same time he hopes and prays she's only messing with him. "is that an actual prediction or just, you know, a general warning?" if it's the latter he can deal with it, he thinks. one can never be TOO careful with that part of themselves. if it's a prophetic claim then... he doesn't know what to think. this wasn't even a possibility on his mind when he decided to support damaris.

“ it's not that cold. ”     tempest glances over their shoulder at justin, voice husky and goosepimples climbing up their arms showing off the blatant lie. it was only a matter of time before they bumped into each other, given how small the wixen world seemed to be, but their teeth grit at being seen as vulnerable. again. at the very least, they look devastatingly gorgeous – small mercies. they look away again, gaze drifting, an empty glass of champagne on the table next to them. they're desperate to put on a facade, but they can't make a choice on which mask to wear quickly enough, and they all seem wrong in one way or another. it would be easiest to just get angry, get defensive, and shroud themselves behind that kind of wall – but, equally, that feels like it reveals as much as it hides.    “ i've been colder. ”

they should definitely know better, and maybe they would, in another universe. in this one, unfortunately, tempest has snuck up on seamus. she'd spotted him at work almost straight away, beeline made, though she had stopped to play quite a few rounds of the horseshoe game. it wasn't much to brag about, but they were decidedly very fucking good at it, and it was very funny to see how much the barstaff hated the performance they'd been forced to do. they were unsure if seamus had been at all aware of their presence, had forgotten to keep one eye on him whilst playing & had forgotten to try and show themself and their outfit off in the heat of their competitiveness. hands clamp over seamus's eyes after their ( assumedly ) successful sneak, the entirety of their front pressed up against his back, and it was likely someone was going to get injured as a result of this – but that would also be incredibly funny, so they were happy to live with those consequences.   “ guess who. ”   tempest whispers in his ear, teeth grazing lightly against the skin there.

“ it's grace, right? ”   they're sat near each other at the benches near the bar, and dudley's been trying to work out from a distance how he knows her for the past half-an-hour, trying his hardest to be subtle with it and likely failing. he's scooted along the bench to sit opposite her, tilting his pint glass in an attempt to cheers with her. he's sure he's right, that he's remembered the right person, but at this point he's also well aware he could just be confidently wrong. there were a lot of employees at the ministry, and a lot of people that he could mix up for each other ( and has done, in the past ).    “ sorry to be a nuisance, but it's gonna bother me if i can't figure out why i recognise you. ”

despite doing her very best to avoid the healer's hut to start, to avoid locking eyes with anyone who might recognise her, clementine had slowly been drifting towards it throughout the duration of her free evening. there was a little spark, a little hope, with a lad with a head injury just outside earlier in the night, but the healer she'd stumbled into had not been one that she had known. there was something cathartic that she was seeking – a familiar face, and maybe not necessarily a friendly one. she'd bumped into gwendolyn earlier in the week, so she wasn't the most ideal candidate, but she'd have to do.    “ you on shift today? ”    clementine asks, though the answer is obvious from the mediwitch robes she's sporting, and her presence at the hut itself.     “ had many patients? ”

"⸻ oop, sorry about that," the quick apology comes out immediately, followed by a soft giggle characteristic of an amara that had ONE TOO MANY drinks already. in her defense she did try her best not to bump into him ( blame poor alcohol fueled coordination and the guy that got in her way ) plus she had at least managed NOT to spill a single drop of the drink in hand on them, so... isn't that a win? "almost didn't see you there with that cloak covering that pretty face."

"⸻ i don't really know how they even chose the burning witch. i'm certain you had the most votes..." the comment is made almost absentmindedly, results had come and gone; thinking too much about it didn't really change anything. and truth be told, they weren't really sure if kaela actually cared about the title, or if their nonchalance was an attempt at quiet manifesting; most campaigning was done on her behalf after all. "...i guess you'll remain the burning witch we deserved but THEY weren't ready for, at least until next year."

"⸻ i fucking love your outfit..." appreciation must be given when it's due and amara CAN recognize good taste when she sees it. admittedly, the compliment does come out a lot easier when a certain amount of alcohol has been consumed and clearly amara is WAY past that threshold. plus a restroom tends to be the place where unlikely, drunk friendships are born anyways... it's only fitting. "...i hope someone told you before i did, because it'd be downright criminal otherwise."