The Yule Ball

Welcome to the Yule Ball! First and foremost let's begin with two basic rules:
1)The dance is formal, so dress nice and spiffy.
2)Anyone is allowed to come, so long as you are behaving slightly.

The Ball takes place in the Great Hall and is decorated to fit a Wintery theme. Let your imagination do the rest for you!

This is the main thread, however if you like you can go off and make a seperate thread in this forum for a special topic or if you want to have a brawl or something. And remember not to SPAM!

The champions are to dance first! So wait for all of them

Marki had scored the job as DJ and was thrilled. She knew a lot about gizmos from her reading and the fact that she tinkered and loved anything with music. It killed her to be apart from her music at Hogwarts so she had hunted down those in charge of the ball and secured her job as DJ. Now she adjusted her equipment, which had special spells cast on it to work around Hogwarts, and set up.

She was dressed as a star... Not a celebrity. But an actual star. More like an extra terrestrial being to be completely honest. The black dress with the realistic portrayal of nighttime was nice enough on its own. The matching blue lipstick and sneaker-heels were drastic but not completely insane. The scientific goggles perched on top of her head, however created a look that was simply off the wall.

She did not start the music yet, thinking perhaps that someone might want to create a grand enterance for the champions or something, or might want to make a speech. She prepared her first songs, getting a queue lined up and stood stock still, her hands on her equipment, wishing she had brought Jeremiah. She felt weird without her bullfrog.

James Wake gave himself a quick check in the mirror. Collar straightened out, robes very neat and orderly. He checked his fine, silk glove. Pitch black, far more dark than his usual glove. It was thinner than his natural glove, but the silk was lined with a thin cotton down on the inside, designed specifically to disguise the mechanical nature of his hand. He pulled his sleeve down. He had specifically an extra inch over his hands, a subtle attempt to hide the faux arm he had wielded since the first day he trained under Alan's cruel gaze.

James considered dropping out at the last minute. It was just a dance, after all, and he would still be there. But he was uncertain of what to do with all the attention he would receive from being Jack's date. James preferred his presence masked, disguised, out of the way. He was better as Security detail, which was his duty regardless of whether or not he was taking someone to the ball.

Normally, the idea would seem preposterous. A girl actually willing to ask the brooding character of James Wake out on a date. But, considering that Jack he was taking to the dance, all on account of a favor, he did not mind the concept of him attending the Yule Ball. In truth, he loathed parties. They were social functions that were far too important for their own good. But he knew that they were an accepted act of socialization, and James, as a member of the wizarding world, was entitled to attend the functions.

James wondered, as he straightened out his dress robes, aligning his lace under shirt, ensuring that everything was well-prepared and set. James was used to being stuck in the stuffy outfit, having attended numerous little parties in the place of his uncle. If his uncle had been royalty, then he was like the man's ambitious son... slowly waiting for the moment where the old man would finally friggin' die...

Ever thought about speeding up the process?
Out of the Question.

======================

James descended the grand staircase, surprised by the amount of people already waiting for the ball to begin. He scanned the crowd, his first sweep of the crowd before they entered the hall. Nobody suspicious thus far... at least, suspicious to pique James' sense of danger.
Finally resigning himself to the fact that tonight was a Ball, James inhaled sharply and stepped to the floor, eyes scanning for an all too familiar girl with fiery red hair.

Jack was fairly sure this was the stupidest obligation she would have as Triwizard Champion. How did a dance prove your ferocity and worthiness as a competitor? It was stupid. That was all there was to it. She had gone through the dancing lessons, through receiving a dress, getting a date, all thinking that it would be fine. It was not until the night of the dance that she realized how idiotic the concept of this stupid thing was... Stupid.

She did not know what to do with herself. She did not want to wear the dress but it was the last gift from her uncle... She had to wear it. One of her helpful dormmates had helped her with shoes- she had held up her sneakers and some combat boots and the girl had chosen the latter with a sigh- and Jack had managed to get dressed. She had fastened the chess piece she had salvaged from Loch Ness around her neck after attaching it to a chain to remind herself that good things did happen... She was not feeling so confident though.

She stomped through the dorm, through the common room, out the portrait hole, and towards the staircase, a hostile expression on her face. She was already getting stares. Possibly because this was the most skin she had ever shown. Even at the summer party, she had sported PJs underneath her dress. She did not wear dresses. She did not dress up. She did not want to go to this stupid ball.

She was halfway down the staircase when she remembered two things: one, that she was a champion, so she should not show any form of weakness, even if it was cursing everyone in sight because of the stupid ball. And that she needed to find James, because he was doing her a favor by making sure she did not look like a dateless idiot so she had at least try to be pleasant.

Frankly, she did not want to admit that she had actually dressed up. Her entire look was something new, and she already felt out of place, even though she would not be overdressed. She needed an anchor, something like James' dependable proper personality, something that would not fail her. She quickly found him amidst her peers and offered him a grimace before descending the steps and striding over to him. She sopped in front of, keeping a large smile on her face and said, still smiling, "Kill me now." She dropped the fake smile and glanced around a little self consciously, crossing her arms and saying, "This is going to be the death of me." She glanced at him and gave him a small smile. "You look spiffy. Thanks for not bailing."

"The thought NEVER crossed my mind, Ms. Dyllan," James said as Jack thanked him. Deep down inside, his heart flipped for joy- he was going to be dancing with a complete stranger! This girl did not look completely like Jack, though James could easily see the resemblance. But there was a distinct difference between this Jack and the Jack that bombarded him with annoyances. No, this one actually seemed prim and proper, capable of maintaining a good act.

An act. Right.

James forced himself to accept that Jack was still Jack. Perhaps socially awkward, an unfortunately charismatic hermit. He internally sighed, though he wore a fake smile, half-grimace as he noted Jack's reactions to her new look.
"Ok, Jack, quit crossing your arms. You need to appear to be confident and defiant, despite the extreme change in look."
James made a mental note to himself- NEVER take Jack out to another ball. Because tonight would be the lengthiest coaching session he would ever give.

Here we go again… Amelia thought to herself as she smoothed a bit of hair into place for what was probably the tenth time in the last five minutes. Her hair was hanging in loose waves around her shoulders, so it really needed no fixing, but yet Amelia had been standing in front of the mirror for the last fifteen minutes. She was stalling, and she knew it, but she was having a difficult time getting excited for yet another ball. On the whole, she found these formal events to be tedious, especially when her mother was involved, and when it came to formal events, her mother always seemed to be involved somehow.

As per usual, her mother had picked out Amelia’s dress without consulting her, but at least this time she had finally listened to Amelia’s pleas to pick something that was not slinky, provocative, or blatantly attention seeking. Her mother tended to choose flashy, expensive things that would make Amelia stand out, when all she really wanted to do was blend in. Fortunately, this year her mother had chosen a dress that was still intricately beautiful, but not glaringly so. It was a dress Amelia could blend in wearing if she wanted to.

She wouldn’t have attended these events at all if it hadn’t been for her mother forcing her into attendance. Antoinette always used the same line about it being Amelia’s duty as a daughter to attend these types of events and to put a good face forward for the family. Right. Whatever. Most people here wouldn’t even know Antoinette at all – she played classical violin. That didn’t exactly sit on the same level as the Weird Sisters or other popular music that people her age listened to. And her father was known among the political and scholastic community for his spell research, but her fellow students likely knew as much about him as they did anyone from History of Magic, which wasn’t saying much.

But still, Amelia was obligated to go, both by her mother’s decree and by her own inability to do anything that might disappoint her parents. Having run out of things to fix, change, or otherwise fidget with, Amelia left her dormitory and Ravenclaw tower, making the journey down to the Great Hall where the ball was being held.

Upon reaching the entrance, Amelia noticed a few other students that had already arrived. The younger ones were standing around looking intimidated, a few older students were meeting up with their dates, and there was a particularly giggly group of what looked like fourth year girls standing on one side of the hall, anxiously comparing dresses and getting giddy each time a new girl arrived. Turning pointedly in the opposite direction, Amelia walked slowly into the room, the long silk panels of her dress moving around her legs as she walked. She took a path that led her around the far outside of the room, her eyes flitting from the white, silver, and blue decorations that adorned the hall to the more electric blue of the DJ’s goggles.

Whatever could she need goggles for? Amelia wondered, recognizing the girl as Marki, another Ravenclaw student.

It was actually sort of reassuring to hear that he had not thought of ditching her. It had crossed her mind about a million times about just not showing up to the Ball, not because of James, but because the last dance she had gone to had ended in complete self destruction and the dismantlement of her prior happy life... But the difference then was that no one had been on her side. She thought that James might be... Maybe... She hoped.

He warned her to uncross her arms and though she would have usually snapped at him, she nodded and dropped her hands before staring awkwardly at them as they hung limply at her sides. She drew herself up and raised her chin, the usual expression on her face, but then glanced back down at her hands. She looked back at James and said, "What the hell am I supposed to do with my hands then?" This was going to be torture. She was sure James was probably thinking the same thing.

Keith was surprised to find himself actually looking forward to the Yule ball.

Well, "looking forward" might be too strong a phrase. However, the usual feelings of disgust, annoyance, and thoughts of mass murder usually so common the day of these parties were conspicuously absent. Keith felt like he was going through a milestone. His mother would be so proud.

He wore something simple - a casual black suit with a black shirt and a white tie. The tie was barely knotted around his neck, hanging loosely, and his top two buttons were free within minutes of the shirt being put on. It was fairly cold in the castle, so Keith left the jacket on. For now. A large silver watch gleamed on his left wrist, and Keith was reminded of it's presence with a headache. He could live. It looked awesome.

He had been considering wearing a baseball hat, but finally figured that would just make it look like he was trying too hard. Better to be subtle about it. No need to look like a massive tool.

The party was in "that" stage when Keith arrived - the awkward limbo between people arriving and the thing actually starting. Keith decided to try and keep out of sight before setting up shop. He glanced around the room, trying to get a feel for what was going on. He gave Amelia a polite nod, before moving his attention to a rather attractive redhead that was currently talking to James Wake. Keith would have to give the guy props for that. And then run like hell, because James didn't like him very much.

Peter edged into the Great Hall, looking rather spiffy. He had decided to go for something simple, pulling out his nicest black skinny jeans, a button up black shirt, and light blue suspenders to add a bit of fun to the ensemble. Nothing too weird but something that did mark him as something special in the sea of dark and coat jackets. Peter's hair was actually brushed out rather than mused and left to its own devices.

Basically, he had tried to look good and it paid off. His appearance was simple but fun and classy. He felt a little nervous about the whole affair, considering the fact that he had no date when others had made such a big deal about getting one. Peter figured it was better that way. Friendship was better than some silly old fling... Right?

Either way, when he set foot into the Great Hall, he was not even thinking about himself. Too many sights to see. His eyes first swept over to see the transformation of the actual Great Hall, which looked amazing in its decorations. It was better than he had ever seen it. Then he was distracted by trying to figure out what sort of creature was manning the DJ station... It was then that he noticed...

Amelia was crossing the floor and he felt his heart skip a little. He blinked, trying to squash whatever feeling that was. He had made things awkward with Amelia. She did not like him and he... Well, he did not need to let her know of his little crush... That was all that it was, he was sure... Well, he was pretty sure that was all that it was.

But she looked stunning in a dress of some sort of floral design that touched the floor. All the other girl were going to go for some short, flashy numbers but Amelia looked stunning in a floor length dress. He swallowed slightly and knew he was going to go over there before the working part of his brain could tell him not to, that he would screw up.

He crossed the dance floor and made his way towards her, terribly self conscious of how long the trip seemed to be taking. They must have expanded the Great Hall... or something! Finally he was there and he walked over to Amelia, giving a small, shy smile and rubbing the back of his neck, before quickly dropping his hand. “'Ello Amelia.” He bit his lip, trying to hold back the compliments he wanted to shower her with. But that would make things awkward...

Ball was hardly an accurate description for this event. Dance would just about cover it.

Danica hated her outfit. It was traditional, the High Master had told her, to dress in the costume of one's native land when attending this "ball". Sadly, the costume of Danica's native land made her look like a milkmaid at best, or a whore at a renaissance faire at worst.

It had everything. Puffed sleeves, lace-up vest (all the better for drawing attention to those parts that really didn't need any), a cute little apron over the skirt and embroidery on every square inch.

Then there was the headdress! Technically, Danica was supposed to wear this ridiculous scarf over her hair. Well, it wasn't ridiculous if you were actually milking cows or making cheese or something like that. It was hygienic. But Danica was at a dance. There was no way she was wearing that scarf.

And then, she turned up to the dance only to see...

Nobody else looked as much of an idiot as she did.

The Gryffindor Champion, Jack Dyllan, was wearing a perfectly serviceable little black dress. Danica was furious, and yet, she had no choice but to smile nicely and pretend to enjoy the party. ERGH.