A Dutiful Appearance

[D'rorah Philosophy]

D'rorah had been in the library until the last possible moment, squeezing in a few last moments of research. She had expected Dylan to come find her, thinking he would escort her to the ballroom for the Masquerade. At the first mention of a ball, she had been reticent to attend, knowing that such things simply weren't her typical element. However, knowing Dylan to be the romantic he was, she had acquiesced to attending, deciding that spending an evening dancing with him would not be so terrible after all. With this in mind, she had found the elements of her costume. The dress had been the most difficult item, considering her need to maintain full coverage of the skin of her arms, neck, legs, and such. Most of the gowns she had seen were distastefully low cut. Even without scars to hide, she was almost certain she would have felt uncomfortable bearing her flesh for the world to see in public.

In the end, she had had a special set of elegant dress robes commissioned. She had stepped away from her usual color, black, deciding that such an occasion warranted a certain amount of frivolity. She had finally decided upon a deep peacock blue to go along with a masque she had found with a peacock motif.



She walked into the hall, posture straight and formal as always enrobed in dazzling blue robes. The collar was high and flared out slightly. The sleeves flared dramatically, reaching to the knuckles at the back of her hand and then tapering down to a point. The sleeves and bodice were richly embroidered in the same shade of blue, giving the effect of an embossed pattern of feathers covering her from the torso up. The skirt of the robes flared deliciously, falling in folds around her ankles and lightly touching the floor. Starting about four inches above her hemline, there was a dusting of tiny blue crystals which sparkled like tiny stars.

Her hair had been carefully pinned up for the occasion. The waist-length tresses were allowed far more freedom than they were accustomed to. They were richly curled and pinned up in a framing halo, the remainder of her hair allowed to cascade down her back in a fall of honey gold curls.

She stood for a moment, surveying the surroundings, looking to see if perhaps Dylan had already arrived without her. She found herself slightly disappointed as she could spy him nowhere. She was completely at ease with her personage and appearance, though this wasn't the sort of function she typically enjoyed. After a moment, she moved further into the room, determined to be seen fulfilling her role as a prefect as she awaited the arrival of her date.

[Kerridon Paradox]

Kerridon made his way down the staircase at a casual pace, his mind still back in his dormitory with the dark arts book he'd been studying. Originally he had thought the whole thing a stupid idea; who wanted to prance about for the night the ancient Gaels believed the gap between living and dead was at its weakest, allowing the deceased to return to this world and wreak havoc. Hardly a time for celebration. Then he saw the sense in using it to his advantage. There was a fair bet that most if not all of the lightfighters would be there, allowing him the opportunity to make himself known to them and begin to approach making them trust him. So he had prepared himself; he was dressed all in black - a silk shirt, long cloak reaching his knees and smart trousers. His mask had taken longer to find, but was in the style of a joker, of the colours red, gold and black.



He caught a glimpse of Quin being transported back in the direction of the Slytherin common room and any ideas of using her as a human punchbag if he got bored (where the punching consists of dark curses) were put to one side for now. For a moment, he thought he heard a mental, agonising scream from somewhere above him. Someone was in pain; a lot of it. Still, not his problem. If he had mini torture sessions in the library, why couldn't anyone else also take advantage of the trusting nature of children?

Straightening his shirt, he entered the ballroom, wondering if he would see anyone else he knew. He hadn't really met any of the other students yet, and was content to see D'rorah already there in very regal-looking attire. She appeared to be waiting for someone, but he had no qualms about approaching her.

"Good evening, D'rorah. You are looking very elegant tonight. How are you?"

[D'rorah Philosophy]

D'rorah looked over at Kerridon as he spoke. She moved perhaps a fraction of a second too quickly, subtly betraying her wish to see someone. Though, of course, Kerridon was no actually that person, she said nothing, holding her facial expression in check. "Good evening Kerridon," she replied quietly. "I suppose all is well," she replied, even though she didn't particularly believe her statement. "You look rather dashing yourself. This is... an interesting occasion."

She allowed her eyes to sweep across the room. "A thought just occurred to me. I wonder what percentage of time was spent selecting attire for this evening versus time spent for studies. It only seems unfortunate that those who are truly deserving of the break this sort of event affords are the very ones who find it a rather tedious affair."

As she spoke more students began to trickle in, many of them background members of the student body who were of no particular interest to her, except for the fact that she was responsible for somehow protecting them. Her eyes passed among their ranks, hoping to catch sight of Dylan, but she did not see him and resisted the urge to sigh as she returned her eyes to Kerridon.

In the background, she could hear the beginnings of a waltz played by the small orchestra that had been assembled for the evening. "At least," she remarked with an inkling of disdain, "the staff did not allow the occasion to be taken over by what passes for music in some circles."

[Kerridon Paradox]

D'rorah did not appear too sure of her statement that all was well, and Kerridon painted a concerned look on his face.

"You do not seem as though you believe your own statement. Forgive my intrusion, but you appear to be waiting for someone. Is it safe to assume that you are worried they will not turn up?"

He gazed around the ballroom, noticing several other students, none of whom he had been introduced to. He nodded in agreement at her comment on the dance as a reward.

"I never celebrated Hallowe'en as a child, and frankly I do not understand what all the fuss is about. As for the music... I've never really had an opinion on it. It just distracted me when I tried to do my research."

[D'rorah Philosophy]

"You do not seem as though you believe your own statement. Forgive my intrusion, but you appear to be waiting for someone. Is it safe to assume that you are worried they will not turn up?"

"No, I am certain my other party will arrive," she replied confidently. "There are so many things around here which might cause one to be delayed that I suppose a failure of punctuality from time to time to not entirely unexpected." Of course, Dylan would not simply fail to show up, she reassured herself. It would be, at the very least, impolite, and he was certainly no such thing.

"I never celebrated Hallowe'en as a child, and frankly I do not understand what all the fuss is about. As for the music... I've never really had an opinion on it. It just distracted me when I tried to do my research."

D'rorah nodded her agreement, the feathers on her mask wavering slightly in the small air disturbance that such a motion caused. "I agree. The emphasis of holidays and social affairs did always seem rather odd when there were so many more important things to be considered as one went about her day." She smiled a bit. "The music, however... much like language, it does have its own cadence and flow. Some theories hold that music actually is a language..." she trailed off for a moment, listening. "This waltz, for instance, speaks of promise and longing. One can almost feel the quiet desperation of the writer as he waited for some acknowledgement from his true love."

She let out the barest laugh, merely coming through as a somewhat pronounced exhalation. "Well, I suppose that was my philosophical moment for the evening. Music was my mother's passion, and I suppose I might have inherited from small sliver of that from her. Father's of course, was study."

[darko2]

As he waltzed around the room, nodding hello's to people, he somehow found himself at the entrance of the Ballroom standing next to two people. One clad in deep blue, with a peacock mask, and the other a male, with a jester-esque mask, yet not as dark as the prior he'd seen earlier on the staircase with the fairy.

"Bonsoir mes amis..." He said bowing slightly, left hand across his waist, the right balancing the bejeweled cane between his palm and the floor.

"How is everyone this fine evening?" He asked addressing the two. He had no clue whom either of them were, but felt that it would be prudent to introduce himself to at least someone. He was having trouble recognizing the people he had met, behind their facades.

His mind wandered to the time as he glanced around the room for a clock, resting his eyes on a rather large and lavishly elegant timepiece at the far wall. It was his birthday today, at midnight, he would turn seventeen and the magical trace would be lifted off of him. He smiled to himself as he reveled in the fact that he would be able to use magic whenever and wherever he wanted.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

D'rorah looked over from her conversation with Kerridon, a polite smile rising to her features. "Bonsoir, Monsieur Bellefleur," she replied with a formal curtsy. She looked to Kerridon, uncertain if the two had met. "Ça va bien, merci. Et vous?"

She paused a moment, deciding she may as well introduce the two. After all, Dylan had not yet arrived and no one was interested in dancing with her... but then, that wasn't so surprising giving her guarded, somewhat cold manner. She briefly wondered whether she would deign to dance with any of the students here tonight were she invited, and decided there was little point in contemplating such an unlikely occurrence until it actually happened.

"Monsieur Paradox, je vous presente Sebastien Bellefleur. Monsieur Bellefleur, Kerridon Paradox." She listened as a new waltz began, her eyes briefly passing to the students taking to the floor uncertainly before returning to her current companions.

[darko2]

"Moi aussi." He replied to her politely, nodding his head and smiling valiantly.

Sebastien's visible eyebrow arched itself as she presented him to Monsieur Paradox.

"Ahh, Je crois que je l'ai déjà rencontré...." He murmured with a hint of acidity to his voice, and then he switched to English. "But all the more, it is a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance." He said in fluent English with a mild French accent, not bothering with extending a hand to shake.

"Mademoiselle Philosophy, Voudriez-vous me donner le plaisir du cette danse?" He asked, eying Kerridon with displeasure. He held his left hand out to her, palm up, to encourage her even more to accept his request for a dance.

He had a very strong urge to want to get away from Kerridon quite quickly. His first impression of Kerridon was that he was arrogant and pompous, making him feel like some ignorant thingy that couldn't speak proper English. The thought crossed his mind that he could be over reacting, but he didn't care as the boy clearly had some kind of superiority complex.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

D'rorah noted what seemed to be quite a bit of tension between Kerridon and Sebastien and wondered at it briefly. She decided there was little point in questioning it, not certain it was something she wished to delve into during the dance. Before she had even finished contemplating the exchange, she saw that Sebastien had invited her to dance and stood, his hand extended. She paused for a moment. She had intended her first dance to be saved for Dylan, but it did not seem he would show. Her deliberation lasted for a moment, finally resting upon the fact that it would be rude to decline the dance.

She extended her right hand, palm down. "Le plaisir est à moi, Monsieur Bellefleur," she replied with another polite smile as she rested her own hand lightly atop his, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. She assumed a formal waltz position, her left arm coming to rest lightly atop Sebastien's right shoulder as her right hand cuffed his left hand slightly. She made a mental note to herself to allow him to lead her. She tended to be a somewhat aggressive dance partner, so she knew she would have to pay special attention to her actions as the song progressed.

[darko2]

Delighted that she had indulged him in his request, he closed his hand around hers gently and led her out onto the dance floor, tucking his cane under his right arm. Once they were on the floor, she placed her hands in the appropriate places for the dance, and he realized he needed to discard his cane quickly. He balanced it on point, and gave it a shove, and it glided along the floor gracefully, yet quickly, and found a resting place against the wall opposite to where they had just been standing.

He returned his focus to the task at hand, the dance. He placed his right hand on her left side, just at her waist, careful to not insinuate anything inappropriate. Taking her right hand in his left, they began. He found the beat in his head in that typical 1, 2, 3, fashion and let his feet do the rest. They glided all around the ballroom, her robes fluttering eloquently as they twirled and carried on. It seemed as though she was very good at dancing, and caught a hint of her taking the lead a couple times, but noting that she conceded quickly.

"You are a very good dancer...D'rorah." As he spoke in English, the way he said her name sounded a bit off. The R's were a bit too prominent for his pronunciation and he blushed from embarrassment as he realized he sounded quite silly calling her by her first name. He chuckled a little bit and tried to recompensate. "It's a bit tricky, you're name...Do you go by anything less..." He trailed off and made a prolonged "R" sound, indicating that he had trouble with his "r"s.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

D'rorah followed along, noting that Sebastien was quite the competent dancer, moving with an elegant efficiency she rather enjoyed. It took a bit of thought to continue following.

She smiled as he seemed to fumble with your name. "You are a fine dancer yourself, sir. My name is not actually English, it is Hebrew." She spoke it again, the 'R's sounding almost identical to a French 'R'. "You see, it is actually easier for you to pronounce it correctly. I typically do not attempt to teach anyone to say it properly. Those who have particular difficulty tend to address me as Dee." At the last bit a shadow of a grimace moved across her face. She disdained the habit of her name, the name her parents had gifted her with, being reduced to a single, harsh syllable... only a letter, really.

"Sh'mee D'rorah. Kinereh yesh atah koshee ha'pakhot atah mee'saber." As she spoke, she emphasized how the Hebrew R's sounded quite similar to French when pronounced correctly. Finding an appropriate place in the music and feeling led into it, she performed a quick waltz pose before continuing on.

"How is your little sister enjoying England?" she asked, determined to keep her mind from dwelling on the fact that Dylan had still not arrived.

[Kerridon Paradox]

Kerridon's eyes darkened as D'rorah spoke of her parents, but hid his expression well beneath the mask. His own mother's passion had been fighting people such as himself and his father, and before she had been killed she had been determined to guide him on the correct path. Unfortunately, when his father took over his childhood there was no doubt that "all that nonsense" would not be permitted in Pardox Hall. Missing what she next said but knowing it to be something laong the lines of music, he just nodded as if to say he understood.

Another boy approached, and Kerridon knew exactly who it was when he spoke; the French Hufflepuff who had insulted him in the Ancient Runes class. He stayed silent and kept his face blank as he was introduced to 'Sebastien Bellefleur'. That was another name he would keep in mind if he needed a test subject for his research. He simply nodded at Sebastien's greeting, noting with derisivity that the Hufflepuff could not hide his own feelings as well.

He leant against the wall behind him with casual grace and watched as Sebastien led D'rorah away to dance. His eyes flickered around to see who else was around. A couple were standing near the entrance whom he had originally thought he did not know, but peering closer... It was the boy from Ancient Runes who had mentioned Elemental Magic, and he was accompanied by the girl who had sat next to him. What an opportunity!

((I'm moving to 'The Much Anticipated Arrival' now, so don't expect many more posts from me in this thread.))

[darko2]

Sebastien was surprised to hear that her name was of Hebrew origins. As she explained that the "R"s sounded much like French "R"s, he watched her lips as she pronounced it and then mimicked her doing the same. "Ahh, It is as you say!" He exclaimed with a an open smile. "I will call you D'rorah..." He said with better ease and comfort as he let the R's revert to his normal manner of speaking. "Dee, is...well...it doesn't do you justice." He said with a wink.

She had just spoke an entire phrase in Hebrew before posing at an appropriate moment in the Waltz. "What does that mean?" He asked curiously. He had never heard anyone speak Hebrew before.

She inquired about his sister and immediately his heart fluttered as he thought of his mother and sister.

"Ahhh, Vivi's...ehmm...she's quiet...." He said quietly himself and cast the ballroom windows a glance. He noticed that they led out to a small balcony adjacent to the ballroom. "Oh and thank you again for the sweets, she loves candies and chocolates." He said with a smile before answering her question. "She's having some difficulties with our home life. She misses France, but I think she'll like it just fine here soon enough. I...." He shook his head as he trailed off, implying to never mind that last thought and continued on with the Waltz.

[D'rorah Philosophy]

D'rorah smiled at bit at Sebastien's winking comment, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. She still had yet to lay eyes on her date, the only reason she'd really bothered to come was because he had been so insistent about wanting to dance with her at the masque.

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, it was silly, really. I simply said. 'My name is D'rorah. You have less trouble pronouncing it than you thought." She twitched her shoulders a bit, all the shrug she could manage while still maintaining her dance posture.

She noticed Sebastien seemed a bit nervous when she asked about his sister. Of course, it seemed to be hidden well enough, but the last shrugged off sentence did arouse quite a bit of curiosity. Nevertheless, he seemed to pointedly continue on with the dance, indicating that that particular branch of conversation was closed at the moment. She searched for a detour, but found none. Not being a particularly social person, she wasn't very good with small talk or polite chatting conversation in general. Deciding not to worry over it for the time being, she decided to simply let it be, she danced on.

After the waltz ended, D'rorah curtsied formally. "Merci beacoup, Monsieur Bellefluer." She offered one last polite smile before departing his company. She felt that perhaps rushing off so quickly would be seen as rude, but really wished to find Dylan. His absence was bothering her more and more. She had seen Alessandro around as she danced with Sebastien, so thought she might ask him if he had seen his dormmate. She headed off to find him again, but took a detour first, making her way slowly around the room, just in case she had simply missed catching sight of Dylan.

[Zane Lucifer Bishop]

It seemed as though Wyst had not yet arrived, and worse, no one had seemed to care much about his grand entrance. That was easily shrugged away however as jealousy was a common feeling in teenagers. He could forgive them for spitefully ignoring him due to their doubtless burning envy. Stepping into the room confidently, Zee scanned for a familiar face, soon realizing the futility of such a search at a Masquerade. He nearly ran into a young woman in a blue dress with a lovely feathered mask, his peripheral vision impaired just slightly by his own mask.

Bowing low to her apologetically, Zee recognized those grayish blue eyes he met as he rose. He was likely relatively unrecognizable excepting his height, and of course the crooked smile that tugged at one corner of his mouth. Holding out one hand to her invitingly, Zee spoke, his voice certainly giving him away if the rest hadn't already.

"You're looking quite lovely this evening Ms. Philosophy. It seems my companion for the night has not arrived, and given your lack of accompaniment I would make a similar assumption about you. Would I be asking terribly too much if I requested the pleasure of a dance?"