Dreadlords Dance for all that we've been through

[Caeso Diemut]

Caeso and Alice stood by the wine table, sipping their wines and gazing over the other occupants of the Hall. Alice, having been brought to a steady calm, had her curiosity now able to peek out like a cautious mouse scouting about some unknown corner. Her eyes were cast back toward the larger group at the Hall's entrance.

"Might you tell me something of your comrades?"

Caeso was a touch wary about the question. The list of fellow Initiates he would actually feel comfortable leaving Alice around without his direct supervision was vanishingly small. Fortunately, many of the most outwardly violent and deranged Initiates, those defective weapons that they were, had apparently not been allowed to attend the Dance. Good riddance.

"Who, in particular?" he asked, taking another sip.

"Hmmm...the tall man? The one with the blonde hair? Why, he remains me of a—"

"Urahil?"

"Yes!"

Caeso offered a small smile. "That's because he is. Leander Urahil. Quite the rising star within the House of Urahil, and for good reason; among our class he has perhaps the most formidable magic against other Dreadlords, and this is to say nothing of his physicality and size. Believe it or not, he is not the sole Urahil here in the Academy either...though I would say he is certainly the stronger of the two."

"A noble, how thrilling," said Alice. "To be honest, I thought...well, never mind it. What about the girl who has Leander's arm?" And the arm of one Rowley Stone, as it happened as well.

"Livia Quinnick. Something of a recluse, keeping to herself rather often. I confess that I do not know—"

"Quinnick!" Alice said, once more excited. "Why, I remember some years ago a wonderful party in which Crentors and Quinnicks did sup together. My memory can be a touch...hazy at times, and this is especially so with this party being perhaps a decade in the past, but...my, would it not be strange and fortuitous indeed to meet an acquaintance again after so long? The name Livia does ring with a familiar tone...ah! But I cannot recall with clarity!"

"Well," said Caeso, "blink twice, and you may find that Livia has disappeared from these environs."

"A second noble, though. What queer fortune!" Alice considered the others among the entrance group, and then asked, "What of the dark-skinned girl? Do you know her?"

Caeso's lips pursed briefly, and he took another—bigger—sip of wine. The infamous rivalry of House Virak's came to prominence. "That...is Houri Luana. Only in recent times returned to the Academy from some forsaken circumstance."

Alice, though, seemed rather unaware of, or simply disregarded, the longstanding bitterness between Virak and Luana. "Oh my, a Luana too! It was not so long ago that their Head of House...Jiya, I believe?...hosted the Anirian Rose Masquerade. I would have loved to attend...yet misfortune struck again." Eyes downcast and her excitement slightly dimmed, she said no more of it.

Caeso, in an attempt to cheer her up, leaned toward her and said, "Three for three in your guessing." He smiled slyly, teasing, "Surely you knew all their faces."

It worked, and Alice perked up again. "Oh no, I can assure you that I did not know them! Yet even so, counting yourself, the three of them, whomever may still be within this Hall that I have not even brought attention to, it is far more nobles set on becoming Dreadlords than I would have thought."

Caeso took another big sip of his wine, finishing the glass and setting it down on the table. "You know, a certain special name has come to be attributed to us."

"What is it?"

"The Gilded Class."

Alice, with wide wondrous eyes, considered it. Then with a small sip on her own wine she said, "There are many things here which I find novel and surprising." And this latter part was spoken with a quick and shy glance up toward Caeso, and then squarely back to her wine glass as she sipped.

 

[Silas Artesto]

Silas could only raise an eyebrow as Leander squared up to him with all the pomp of a goddamn Archon. The Urahil boy was big, tough, and full oh himself, but every time Artesto had the displeasure of talking to him, he was increasingly certain that he was also as dumb as a bag of rocks. Not only did he think the insult was directed towards his sister, but he also thought he could frighten him.

Silas wasn't sure which one it was that made him smirk as Livia led Leander and Rowley away, notably not returning Silas's greeting. The blonde shrugged his shoulders. No accounting for taste, he supposed. It was hard for him to miss her when Houri called his name from where she was speaking with Zaire. Turning his head to face the two of them, Silas strode over with a small smile. Houri looked good, very good. If her and Glaive weren't about the most obvious pair in Vel Anir's history, he'd probably have tried to ingratiate himself to her a little more by now.

Hell, he still might, if Zaire didn't make his damned move soon.

"What's up, Houri? You look nice tonight." He let his eyes travel over her briefly, though not long enough to seem inconsiderate before shifting his focus down to Zai-- "Good lord man..." Silas felt his hand raise up to pinch the bridge of his nose in sheer disbelief. He knew the guy was a fan of... 'recreation', but this was pretty much his biggest chance to snug up to Houri of the whole year, and he'd shown up absolutely blitzed. And of course, he was looking for a bailout.

"The medic bay? Huh, well..." Silas leaned forwads towards Zaire, looking deeply into his eyes. To Houri, it probably seemed as though he was trying to decide on whether or not to haul his out, but the cold smugness in Artesto's eyes was a wordless message to Zaire and Zaire alone: You owe me big time, dumbass.

"Nah, looks like he just got some smoke in his eyes or something. It should go away in a while." Silas finally announced, leaning back again and holding back the snicker that threatened to give him away. It wasn't a lie, after all. Looking back towards Houri, the corner of his lips pulled up into a smile. "Couldn't hurt for you to keep an eye on him for a little while though."

Turning to look back out to the rest of the crowd, Artesto ran his hands anxiously through the mop of hair on his head. Last time there'd been an event like this, he'd gone through the trouble to style it, but whatever he'd used had been hellish to wash out. More were filing in quickly. Caeso, with a date already on his arm. Lumen was just ducking out by the time he'd turned to greet her, and there were... an awful lot of Proctors.

Were they here to try and keep pants on, or heads on, he wondered?

Another girl was just emerging, that shy posture of hers a dead giveaway. The only giveaway, really; Zinnia was dressed immaculately, a far cry from the usual ultra-conservative Initiate he'd honestly expected to skip out on this whole thing. Instead, she was wearing a fine dress, one that did work to show the woman that hid so often underneath those cloaks and robes she draped herself in so often. Not that he was displeased with her attendance. On the contrary, actually...

Silas believed they could help each other out a little.

"You wanna dance later Houri, give me a shout. I'm down." He waved a finger to the pair of them as he sauntered to meet the approaching Zinnia halfway, even as she called the names of all three of them. "Zin, look at you! I always knew you were hiding a pretty face under that hood!" He grinned, tilting his head to get a better look at her, his arms crossing over his chest, before flicking his gaze back to hers. "You don't have anything to be shy about, I'll tell you that. I'm glad you came, really hoped you'd find your way out here."

Silas seemed to narrow his eyes, and then asked her suddenly...

"You ever dance before, Zinnia?"

 

[Kor]

All Dreadlord Initiates of the current class had been invited to the bizarre tradition of a communal dance, one that to Kor's understanding the Academy was trying to implement successfully for a second year in a row. Needless to say, just because all were invited did not mean that all could participate. For one without the gift of sight such as Kor, dancing was out of the question. Without the help of his birds, he lacked the coordination to cooperate with another in such a way.

Not that the pale-skinned boy had any intention of attending anyways. Dances of this nature, traditionally, were meant to forge close-knit bonds. The sort of bonds that blossomed into interpersonal relationships emotionally carried and co-dependent. Kor held scarcely any sort of relationship with the other classmates, save an unusual kinship he'd found with Soleil Verdane. Still, it was far from anything bordering on romantic.

Even still, despite all these factors...

Kor found himself curious. Perhaps his own attendance was out of the question, but some part of him did wish to witness the interactions of the others. The thought of absconding the dance entirely had, annoyingly, presented him with an odd hollow sensation. It was unpleasant, and he did not understand it.

So his birds had been fed, and their orders delivered. They would cross over the grounds, along with Kor himself, and report any strange behaviors to their Master. Kor himself would linger in a dark corner of the hall observing the proceedings through Repent, the poor wounded Raven restricted to his shoulder.

So far, it had been dreadfully boring. Bickering and chatter from both Proctor and Initiate alike. Caeso had brought a companion, but she was woefully ordinary. Quinnick seemed to have procured two. An interesting tactic, and one that made sense from certain power-politic stand points. Well, it would have, but even Kor could tell that she didn't really seem to like one of them.

Gods, this is dull. The rumors about the previous dance made it seem as though there would be something remotely interesting happening...

 

[Salak]

"i could not agree more Miss D'amour."
Salak had used his unusual attire to get close without drawing attention. The grey blended well with the walls and a mask was a mask, even a silver one.
"Miss Umbra, Miss Ebersol." He nodded gently to each in turn then turned towards the throng.
"Things seem to be going well. Here's to many more like it."
He shifted his weight on his leg. The "tea" he had helped himself to on Chasmine Grey's behest was very helpful for long nights such as this where he would no doubt be on his feet late into the morning.
"Pray tell, the guards, they have been sent on patrol about the grounds I trust. We shouldn't have all our eyes on one place surely."
His own eyes of green never left the crowd. He noted clothing, pairings and faces. He did not yet have all the names but they would come given time.

Trix Everleigh Ebersol Evangeline

 

[Zinnia]

Yup, seemed Zaire was up to his usual shenanigans. Eyes redder than the Kaliti sun and still coughing for Kress' sake. How on Arethil did he have fun in this state?
"I...d-don't think she's gonna buy that one, Zaire..." she tried to let him down easy, in a hushed tone so that Houri wouldn't overhear. Houri was a smart cookie, and well...in truth, she didn't think anyone was going to buy that line. Especially since there were no cats around the Academy...

Silas greeted Zinnia next, and not nearly in the manner she had been expecting. Despite herself, she was blushing in an instant at the compliments he'd payed her. Quite quickly her eyes were darting towards the floor as if searching for a dropped piece of jewelry, her hands fidgeting together in front of her.
"Oh! I, um, ahaha...th-thank you...I'm...g-glad to be here..." she stammered out. She didn't think she could blush any harder until the follow-up question came.

"You ever dance before, Zinnia?"

Oh dear. She wished she had a hood to retreat into, but Lumen had insisted that it was for the best that she didn't. Zinnia glanced upwards at Silas, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face with a shy smile.

"N-not, um...not r-really, no..."

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Not one, but two. Two formal Dances during her time at the Academy. Perhaps in this year such a thing was unprecedented among Initiates, but in all the years to come, after the Republic and the Guard worked to instill positive reformations? Perhaps not an unprecedented thing at all.

Admittedly, Kristen quite feared that a second Dance would outright be cancelled, given the proximity to the (candidly speaking) disastrous first attempt at such. Kristen feared further that Proctor Magomo, with his mind keen on seeing her as fit as possible for Graduation this year, would deny her this night in favor of a mission or additional training—the tempo of both certainly increasing and keeping her well beyond busy. And a third fear was that she might not be allowed to invite the man with whom she truly wished to attend this Dance.

Miraculously, her prayers to Aionus were all in this instance answered, her fears each and every one allayed.

Tonight she wore a dress that her father Neil had delivered for her from her wardrobe (bless him, able to act on such short notice!). An inversion of sorts from the one she wore to yesteryear's Ball: where then her dress had been large like a blooming petal, expansive and grand, now it was smaller and more reserved, guarded one might say; of House Pirian's colors, now Kristen was adorned in mostly red over white. Perhaps on some unconscious level, her choice in dress this year versus that of the previous reflected all the change—harsh, painful, and necessary change—she'd endured in the intervening time, yet such thoughts of grim and solemn character were as far as could be from the light of her waking mind.

Kristen and Alistair were among the later arrivals into the Hall. Kristen stopped only a few steps within, gazing with glittering and awestruck eyes up at vast array of floating candles above.

"Would you ever have thought such a sight as this even possible?" Kristen asked of Alistair.

Far more than she could ever know, he had endured the Academy and all of its old torments. Yet here he was, having braved it all, and having come out of it as something Kristen had come to find herself admiring of and enamored by:

A good man.

Alistair Krixus

 

[Alistair Krixus]

"No, no I can not."

Alistair looked at the decorations of the hall with an increasingly raised eyebrow. The entire pageantry of the event was strange to him. There was one from last year, but Alistair skipped that event. At the time, he had been engrossed in one of his projects that required his attention.

Oh, and the added reason that he hated dances. Socializing was not the problem, but Alistair hated dancing, or to put it another way. He was terrible at it. His swordsmanship teachers had always told him that a duel was like a dance, which was ironic because Alistair was known for incredible footwork in battle. However, without the weight of a blade and the killing intent of his enemy, this was nothing like a duel.

He would have never chosen to come to something like this on his own, but when Kristen had invited him to the event he could not bring himself to tell her no.

Hence, he was now here dressed in a freshly tailored suit featuring the dark blue and purple of House Krixus, while Alistair did his best not to look miserable.

It also felt strange that this was the class below him, meaning most of these individuals were people he either trained, led on missions, or brutally punished during his younger years. None of his so-called 'friends', which was to be expected since most of them were traitors. However, he did look a bit surprised as he noticed a few that must be chaperoned or working the dance.

"The Academy is doing its best to chance."

Kristen Pirian

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh let the comment about Chasmine drop. She had never liked speaking poorly of the dead, but after knowing that Chasmine was walking around the Academy as… whatever she was, Everleigh had felt a certain secret had been shared between them. Chasmine saw a regretful Everleigh and Everleigh had seen a dead Chasmine.

Her eyes flicked down to the punch bowl. There were so many things she wanted to say, all bubbling up but it was far more easier to shove them down. She wanted to tell them to stop calling her Miss Ebersol. She wanted to drop the topic of last year’s ball. More importantly, she wanted them all to leave her alone and let her sulk by herself by the punch bowl.

“There’s no need to worry about pregnancies, tomorrow the water is gonna be…” Everleigh made a gesture with her hand and mouth, clearly indicating that it was going to be poisoned with something that would keep any unwanted pregnancies at bay. “The Headmistress said so.” She added quickly, glancing at Salak. She didn’t need him lecturing again.

But the three around her brought up a great point. This was going to be a boring dance. And if they were serving wine….

A initiate came up for punch and Everleigh served her. With careful and precise movements, Everleigh was able to use the slight sheen of sweat of her fingers to dip a thumb into the punch, eyes glowing for only a half second that she hid behind the curtain of her violet hair. She handed the cup over to the initiate, blinking three times in succession.

Initiate Lorelai had often came to the secret gambling meetings held by her last year, she’d understand the three blinks.

“I’m on punch duty, I can’t leave even if I wanted to.” She pointed at Trix. “She’ll probably spike it if I do. She’s always been the trouble making sort.”

Trix Evangeline Salak

 

[Leander Urahil]

They had all been pulled off to the side and despite the discussion of dancing together, it seemed no initiate was dancing. Leander only had to leaned a little to the left to confirm that the dance floor was indeed empty. He was ignoring Rowley and Livia as much as someone of his status could; which was to say, a lot.

“Who’re you calling an idiot?” He scowled down at Livia and was jerking his arm away from her but she had already let go. He made a show of cleaning off his suit sleeve from where Livia had held it, as if patting and flicking lint off of the fine fabric was getting rid of her minor noble germs. The youngest Urahil shoved his large hands deep into his tailored pockets.

“Plenty of women like a man with my height.” He added, giving a look towards Rowley’s direction. “Don’t you agree with me? Tell Livia she’s just ignoring her womanly instincts for not throwing herself at us.” He hadn’t realized that Rowley had said he’d end up dancing with Odessa, which would have been preposterous. Odessa only deserved to dance with the best, and it would most definitely end up being one of his rivals. Maseno or Caeso, surely, the other top students in his class with not only the grades but power to match.

Speaking of Odessa, where on Arethil was his sister? If she ditched this dance while he had to attend… well, he’d make her pay somehow. Maybe not letting her heal after a sparring lesson? Or he could just tie her long white hair to the spokes that were the headboard for her bed, that was always a classic.

Rowley Stone Livia Quinnick

 

[Rowley Stone]

Rowley laughed at his two grumpy acquaintances. His eyes followed to girls as they walked past giggling before turning back to Livia with a grin. "You know, that's what a lot of girls say to me...at the beginning of the night." He added with a wink.

"Of course, I always win them over. Unfortunately, our lighthouse of a friend here is right. Girls do like 'em tall. However, he forgets that it helps when the lighthouse doesn't look at them like he thinks they smell like shit...Then again, some girls might like that too."

The last part seemed to make Rowley laugh again as he moved a little closer to the dance floor and started dancing by himself. The large man was surprisingly nimble on his feet and seemed to have some experience dancing.

"If it makes you two feel better. I'll dance with both of ya. No reason to be stingy with all of this." He exclaimed as he motioned to himself.

 

[Ivan Skender]

Ivan moved through the empty hallways of the Academy with a care-free stride to his pace. He was late, everyone ought to be there already, but that didn’t really bother him all that much.

Exams were over after all, and that meant no more books, no more days stuck inside pretending to study, and above all, no more naggy proctors chiding him on his “lax studying habits”, or on how his lack of effort was resulting in his “wasted academic potential”. Kress, what did these people even want from him? He knew full well he’d get solid - even if not stellar - results on the written exams, even with as little effort as he’d put in. Plus, he was a Dreadlord initiate, what use could he even get from knowing who the first King of Vel Anir was? It was not as though that guy would rise from the grave and give him a hand in slaying elves.

In any case, tonight was not the night to worry about that. This night was prom. That one final evening where he could indulge himself before graduation rolled over and he was stuck in the boring, everyday dullness of adult life. Needless to say, he had somewhat been looking forward to the event, and - rather predictably - had put in a greater amount of effort than he had preparing for the exams.

Indeed, for what he judged it to be the first time in a formal event, he had even gotten an outfit that matched the colours of House Skender. Usually, due as much to the fact his entire family was dead, as to his lack of financial means, he had always attended these formal events wearing whatever he could loot off the Academy’s lost and found. This time… well, it hadn’t been any different, however, while on his scavenging, he had found a nice outfit that very closely matched the colours of his House: black, and a peculiar, purplish shade of indigo that he had only seen before in old Skender heraldry.

It was so that he moved through the hallways wearing an indigo vest over a black shirt, with skin-tight black pants, and low boots. It was not all that fancy, but at least he looked good in it, not least of all, because it had been handpicked so as to bring out his muscled, athletic physique.

He inched closer to the prom. At the end of the hallway, he could already hear the celebratory cheers and care-free socialising of the other initiates already at the party. His attention though, did not focus on them, nor on the decorations that had suddenly sprung up on the walls, but rather on his date for the night.

Odessa Urahil seemed to be already expecting him before the entrance to the prom room.

- “Sorry I’m late.” - He said as he approached, scratching the back of his head in what seemed like an apologetic gesture. He looked at her, letting a smile appear on his features. - “You look lovely though.” -​

 

[Livia Quinnick]

They were right, but Livia was never going to tell them that... entirely in it's truth. She crossed her arms, the beads and embroidery brushing her bare forearms as she leaned in closer to murmur towards Urahil so only he could hear. "Now Rowley Stone... that is definitely a guy worthy of attention, do you not think? Just..." She sighed softly, definitely selling the shy pining as she watched the other start off the dancing for the night on his lonesome. Livia then grinned at Rowley, carrying on as if she had not spoken to Leander.

"One dance with you, and then I can call it a night. I think I can confidently say I can only handle a dance with you Rowley Stone, and nothing more. Would hate to have my poor heart broken when your eyes inevitably wander." The youngest Quinnick winked at him. Livia had goals, not only to throw it into her mother's face that she could thrive in an environment meant to create weapons when Livia was most definitely not to begin with, but to finally carve her own path through this world and take that chance of freedom away from the noble day to days. She was no longer going to be pawned off to another House as a dutiful and educated wife, Livia Quinnick was going to be everything her father promised she could be.

It may of been an awful mindset, but Livia had to keep to herself. If not to focus on her own goals and maintain her excellent grades, it was to keep her fellow Initiates safe from her inevitable loss of control that came with corrupted magic. It was why she tolerated Leander Urahil at best knowing he could handle her corruption if need be. Her hair was worn in loose curls, and she was able to spy the colourless ends clutching to the beadwork of her pale gold and silver dress, a daily reminder of her magic corrupting slowly over time. Tonight was an indication that she was not here to represent the Quinnicks in their cornflower blue and pearl, but herself.

She glances up at Leander, narrowing her eyes a little. "Is there not anyone else you should go and bother? I bet Silas Artesto would still have that lively conversation with you." She did indeed note his presence earlier, but her thoughts kept straying to something, as if searching and searching for that missing something. Livia did not want to deal with that nagging at her conscience all night if she were to cross paths with him again.

 

[Odessa Urahil]

He was late.

The annoyed tapping of her shoes could be heard over those inside the hall as she waited for her ‘date’ outside. She’d never actually had any intention of attending the dance. Leander hounded her for days. Something about representing their family colors. She couldn’t remember. She stopped listening after his fourth attempt to convince her it would be fun. She wasn’t interested.

That was until she received a peculiar slip of paper under her door one night with only a location for them to meet. Like the prom, she had no intention of going to the location, but although he forgot to add his name, she recognized the handwriting as Ivan’s from the few missions they had gone on together.

It was sort of…cute…the way he almost seemed nervous to ask her to the dance. Perhaps he knew that Leander would kill one of them- Ivan if he made one wrong move, and Odessa for having the audacity to taint the Urahil blood with someone below her. Either way, it was charming and she finally agreed to attend.

She’d spent the better half of the day preparing herself. Her pin straight hair styled into an updo that complimented the shoulders left bare by the navy blue evening gown adorned with hundreds of crystals that seemed to weigh as much as her. And still, after all the time she took, she still managed to show up before her date.

Whatever, the sound of his voice as she strolled closer brought her tapping to a halt and she pushed herself from the wall she’d been leaning against. The sour look on her face softened into a smile. “I was beginning to think I had been stood up. Is everything alright?” She chuckled, taking a step forward and pulling him close to place a kiss on his cheek.

She held out a hand for him to hold, allowing him to lead the pair into the hall. “Shall we?”

Ivan Skender

 

[Leander Urahil]

His arms were crossed over his broad chest now, regarding Rowley with cool defiance. His eyes that were far too pale centered on the man who was far too jovial for his liking. Plus the way he danced was weird: who on Arethil danced solo? Leander would never do something as embarrassing as that.

“Then go dance with him, Quinnick.” Leander said, not even bothering to look down at Livia. Why strain his neck now when the night was still young. It was then that he caught sight of Odessa, spotting the hair that was even fairer than his, if only because she saw daylight far less than he did.

He was about to take Livia’s advice and go to where he was wanted, or at least force himself to be wanted, when he saw Ivan Skender stride right up to her and…

“That gutter rat,” Leander narrowed his eyes, watching the scene unfold. That barbarian of a man dared to walk up to his sister without bowing down to her? She may not have been as awesome and praiseworthy as Leander was, but that hardly meant he could— DiD sHe KiSs HiS pOoR bOy ChEeK?! He could feel his blood pressure rising, his ears feeling hot as if they were sunburnt.

He left Livia behind with Rowley, heading straight towards Ivan and Odessa, taking the shortest path which had him pushing and shoving plenty of initiates out of his way.

“What do you think you’re doing with him?”

Ivan Skender Odessa Urahil

 

[Rowley Stone]

Rowley just grinned back at Livia as he continued his performance. He got the sense that she could certainly handle more than one dance, unfortunately, she did not want to. Rowley's smile and persona made most others assume he wasn't as bright, but he could see the whisper. He could tell when he was being used, and...he did not really care. That sounded like fun, at least for a time until he grew bored with it all.

"What foolish eyes I would have if they were to stray from you."

He proclaimed before he stopped his dance midstep as he watched Leander storm away, leaving Livia there. Rowley walked back over to her but kept his eyes on Leander's raging path. Even so, his grin never dropped as he looked at Livia with a side-eye.

"Oh, this is going to be good."

He had originally planned to playfully flirt with Odessa when she arrived, so as to prod at her brother further, but this...was way better. There was no better form of entertainment than dinner and a show.

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

Livia only graced the departure of Leander with a winning grin, triumphant that he indeed gave her reprieve of being in the shadow of his towering height. "This is perfect. I doubt anything will deter me from staying now than seeing these two present in the same room." Had someone been looking for entertainment to spice up the evening, because they did not need Livia to find it for them. She linked her arm with Rowley's once again, pulling him to follow her towards the refreshments.

"At least he is distracted and none of us are subjected to dancing with him. Shall we chance the punch?"

Rowley Stone

 

[Ivan Skender]

- "All good." - He replied to Odessa, his tone still somewhat apologetic. - "And I'd never stand you up." -

He felt his heart race slightly faster at the response, as if his reply was somehow not good enough; as though he should have said more. Or maybe less? Or maybe he'd said the right amount of things, but only with the wrong wor-- "Fuck this"

He tried to put a confident smile on, but that gesture of courage was soon thwarted when she kissed his cheek.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck, not now!" - Was the only thought running through his mind, as he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks in what he thought would be a perceptible blush.

And that was when Leander Urahil showed up.

In quite literally any other circumstance, Ivan would have been happy to see the elder of the Urahil twins. They got along fairly well, and usually teamed up in many of the Academy's... initiatives; Like bullying that Lothar loser.

The rather awkward timing was not the only thing peculiar about Leander's arrival though.

“What do you think you’re doing with him?”

- "Uh, attending prom?" - His brow shot up, as an amused expression took over his features. - "I told you this, Leander." -

Kress, had he actually? He remembered he had wanted to tell Leander, but now, of all sudden, he couldn't recall if he actually had. This was mostly because, in the end, whatever the other initiate had said wouldn't have made a difference. Leander was his friend, his brother-in-arms, and a comrade in whatever shenanigans the two of them got themselves into from time to time, but he was not - in Ivan's mind - his superior.

He was not going to ask permission - like some dorks did - to ask Odessa Urahil out from Leander or their father, either of which - once again, in Ivan's mind - were probably as broke post-Revolution as he was.

He shook his head, and took Odessa's hand softly.

- "Let's go." - He said to her with a smile, leading her past Leander. As the two of them did so though, Ivan wrapped his free arm around his friend, dragging him along. - "Let's go get something to drink." -

Letting his arm free of Leander, he looked at the other initiate. - "Didn't you have a date of your own?" -

Yeah, that what's-her-face chick with the unfortunate piss-yellow dress that made her look like a cheese wheel. What had happened to her?​

 

[Houri]

Houri's concern seemed to abate a little when Silas reassured her the cause was smoke. Had Zaire been this bothered by their campfires on their last mission? Was that why he had not wanted to stay up late and talk with her? Crushing guilt slammed through her - first she had not fed him and then had not thought to think of his allergies!

"Why don't I go try and find some eye dr--"

"Initiates! If I could have your attention please for a moment."
​

Houri turned towards the stage where the band were sat as did most of those gathered. Houri realised, with a start, there were many there not just from their year group. There were clusters from the years both below and - shockingly - before them. The class she should have been a part of. She took a breath and attempted to smother that stabbing sense of loss as Proctor Choal continued from on stage.

"Who's excited for this dance then, initiates?!" The Proctor grinned but it faltered when silence shouted back at him. He quickly recovered though. "I know it can be a little daunting when at these things so to get this dance moving I've made a little game for us all for the first dance!" That earnt a little bit of muttering from the crowd. "When I call out your names please join your partner on the dance floor for our first cotillion."

Houri caught a few initiates trying to slip for the door but they slammed shut around the room. Proctor Choal was still smiling as though he hadn't noticed people trying to escape his enforced fun.

"Bets on him exploding within the next few minutes," Houri whispered to Zaire.

"Zaire and... Zinnia!" The Proctor declared and searched the hall. Houri gently nudged her friend forward.

"That's you," she whispered encouragingly and then waited eagerly for her own name to be called. Unlike most others she did not need convincing to dance. The names came on in a long list; Leander and Livia; Kristen and Rowley; Ivan and Odessa; Caseo and Trix, who had to stand in for poor Lumen; and Alistair and Evie, who had to stand in for the missing Meiri. Other names she did not recognise until finally.

"Houri... and Silas!"

A thrill went through her spine excited at last to be chosen, relieved she would not be excluded, and swept forward to find her friend. She flashed him a brilliant smile as they took their places in the long line.

"I hope you don't mind me getting my dance in early?"

 

[Kristen Pirian]

The muttering, the attempts to quietly slip away during Proctor Choal's announcement, were amusing. It reminded Kristen mightily of the stark division during the Ball, wherein all of the boys gathered on one side of the hall and all of the girls gathered on the other and a similar intervention like Proctor Choal's was needed to bring them together.

"Some things are...slow to change, are they not?" she said to Alistair. Initiates being suspicious of having anything remotely resembling fun, even for the Gilded Class which enjoyed more time under the Republic's changes than their predecessors, was likely going to be a staple sight until the very newest Initiates, those who knew only the post-Revolution Academy, came of age.

Kristen lightly touched Alistair's arm, smiled, and then said, "We shall again convene after this first dance. Till then, my heart longs."

This wasn't anything new for her, dancing with a variety of partners at a single gala, and such was all a part of social convention, great for meeting new people, and quite fun. But what was new was the strong attachment she held to one man in particular during a gala, the fact that if the open choice was available to her she would dance with him and only him until the night expired.

She left Alistair to go and meet with his partner—Everleigh, as it were, how surprising and by what astounding chance had it happened!—and Kristen in her turn went to Rowley Stone. Who, as it was, happened not to be so very far from the Hall's entrance.

Kristen curtsied to him. "Rowley Stone, a pleasure to properly meet you." Before now, no occasion had surfaced for them to make much of any acquaintance.

Then to Livia she said, "May I have this dance?"

Alistair Krixus Livia Quinnick

 

[Caeso Diemut]

Unsurprisingly, a Proctor had to step in to corral the vast majority of the Initiates toward the idea of a dance, and the first dance of the night became an affair determined by chance and aimed toward melting some of that frigidity. It was strange. Walk back time to yesteryear, and Caeso would have been staunchly against anything like what was happening here in the Hall tonight (and, not to mention, his guard would be raised to the highest capacity). But tonight he had no issue with it. Tonight, he daresay, he was even enjoying himself.

His name was called out and matched with Beatrix Umbra. Alice's name was even called out, Proctor Choal having somehow gotten wind of her presence, and matched with Carter Kline—the dim big boy with the hunchback who was part of Flavien's little group.

Alice couldn't know who that was, yet even so she looked mildly frightened. More so it was likely that she was afraid of leaving Caeso's presence and having to deal with a Dreadlord she did not know, given her justified reservations generated by her past. "Caeso, I...I don't know if I want to do this..."

"It is nothing over which to worry; it will only be for a single dance," he said. Then he pointed out Carter's bulky shape amongst the crowd of other Initiates. "That is him. Casually mention my name, if you can, and he will behave. Yet if he still in any way makes you uncomfortable, call to me, and I will come and rectify his mistake. Is that alright, Alice?"

After a moment, she nodded gingerly. "V-Very well." She looked up to him with large, almost pleading eyes, and said, "Shall I see you soon?"

"One song, and then we will be rejoined."

He kissed the back of her hand, more so as a manner of encouragement than all else, and then prompted for her to go to Carter. She did, slowly, her dress hardly swaying at all from her timid and reluctant steps.

Then Caeso turned and looked toward the table with the punch bowl, the last place he had seen his partner. Beatrix Umbra, of the minor House Umbra under House Luana as the whimsy of chance would have it. Yet despite the centuries old enmity between their patron Houses, Caeso was of no mood to add kindling to a fire which needed none—not tonight. He endeavored to reciprocate the level of civility he would receive, and to start out himself on a cordial footing.

He flung his half-cape back over his shoulder, and then crossed the Hall floor to approach Trix. Yes, Trix, he knew not all that much of her personally but that, her preference to be called by the shortened version of her name, he did at least know.

"Trix Umbra," he said, standing before her and delivering a nobleman's bow. Then he held out his hand. "Would you grace me tonight with your hand, that we may dance?"

Trix

 

[Trix]

To D'Amour's rebuff the Dreadlord said nothing only deepened her smile; at least she hadn't insisted on Proctor. What a worthless title that was. They were soon joined by Salak to whom Trix only inclined her head; he was not one she knew much about other than their magics overlapped. Curious, that there would be three of them lurking around the punch bowl no less. Most initiates were steering well clear of their little stand now which made a smile dance across her lips in amusement; spiking a punch bowl might have been the type of trick Evie pulled, but she preferred far more sophisticated methods.

"Pretty lipstick," she murmured to one young girl as she took her cup.

“I’m on punch duty, I can’t leave even if I wanted to.” She pointed at Trix. “She’ll probably spike it if I do. She’s always been the trouble making sort.”

Trix raised both brows and put a hand over her heart as though gravely wounded by the attack.

"Lilianna would prefer the term fun making sort," she purred before her attention was stolen by the Proctor up on stage. He wore a garish green ensemble that frankly hurt the eyes offset by accents of putrid purple. She couldn't help but wonder as the names were drawn what her own class would have thought of such a thing. There were a few of them here as guests that she could spot but she couldn't read their expressions as initiates reluctantly paired up and dragged themselves to the dance floor. Her eyes snagged on her cousin and she couldn't help the warmer smile she gave to see Houri happy. When Jiya had told the Family what had happened to her...

"Caseo and Lumen! Ah, right... Lumen is on a mission - err, Miss Umbra? Would you be so kind?"

Trix's gaze snapped up to the Proctor. Her? With an initiate? Dance duty certainly hadn't been on the work assignment.

"Which one is that?" she glanced to the assembled group of Proctors with a sigh then scanned the crowd whilst trying to recall the name. Diemut, wasn't it? A figure detached itself from the group and strode in their direction which made him either her partner, or Evie's who had also been pulled somehow into the dancing duties. When he stopped in front of her her head listed slightly to one side.

Oh, wasn't he a little gentleman?

Her lips kicked up at the corners at the bow. When was the last time someone had done that to her not out of fear for her rank? Gathering the soft fabric the skirts of her dress she curtseyed back, charmed into slipping into her ancestral role for this one dance.

"The pleasure would be mine," she murmured and slipped her hand into his, throwing Evie a backwards wink over her shoulder as they walked towards the dance floor.

 

[Caeso Diemut]

As the other pairings were assembling, mingling, so it was that the most unlikely of them all set foot upon the dance floor first.

Caeso had some time to reflect on things during the short walk. His general view of Initiates, of Dreadlords, was that they were weapons—the traditional view of it. His own father Sabian reinforced this view through a particular correspondence, writing to Caeso when he approached the age of thirteen: There are no Ladies within the Academy. Yet even with his own traditional worldview, even with his father's words in mind, Caeso could not help but to frequently treat his fellow Initiates as if they were more than weapons (perhaps, deep down, the unrealized truth: that he wanted this for himself as well).

Taking in all those around him on the way to the dance floor, yes, this helped dispel that traditional view, if only for one night. The notion that Initiates, Dreadlords, could be more than their utility to the state, that they were as much human as any other Anirian and deserved all the appropriate dignity thereof, seemed plausible. Tangible enough to reach out and touch.

There on the dance floor, Caeso faced Trix.

"I must apologize upfront for my lack of skill," Caeso said. "The Academy has not seen fit to officially train me in the art of dance."

Mostly due to his magic being far more suited to an outright battlefield rather than anything even resembling covert. To his chagrin, this left him lacking while other noblemen his age outside the Academy would have far more experience.

"Despite this, I have managed some practice."

Trix

 

[Livia Quinnick]

Was this some cruel joke? Leander Urahil? To even hear her name be tossed in with his caused her face to drop, shocked and horrified at the prospect. The doors closed, the dreaded sound reaching her ears, and Livia abandoned the wine offered to her by the attendant and instead instinctively held onto the arm of Rowley Stone once more. If Quinnick was going to dance at all this night, it was to be in the arms of anyone else.

The madman had just yelled at two people in the space of ten minutes! She would not subject her ears to his screeching again.

Livia pouted, seeing no way out of this. Cutting through the Initiates all moving across the hall to find their designated dance partners, Kristen Pirian made way to where they stood. It was with a pained smile, a grimace of all grimaces, that Livia reluctantly released Rowley. "You are quite lucky to be paired with someone decent." A sentiment she would share with everyone... anyone. "You better save me a dance Stone so I have something positive to remember tonight."

And she would wait there, refusing to walk over to the taller Urahil and ask for this dance. Surely they would not make her participate?

 

[Rowley Stone]

Rowley could only burst into laughter as the names were announced. Not for himself, he was sure this Kristen girl was lovely, but poor Livia had to get stuck with Leander while he was undoubtedly in a sour mood.

"Oh, show some optimism. Liv, look at it this way. He is going to be annoyed with other people, so not you...Anyways, have fun."

He added the last part as he watched a girl approach him that he could assume was Kristen. He believed he had seen her from a distance running with that Proctor, but that was none of his business. Rowley lightly patted Livia on the arm one last time in reassurance before focusing on Kristen.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine. It seems I really do have the luck of the draw." He took her hand and lightly kissed it with a smile on his face.

"Let us make the whole hall jealous. Show we?"

Rowley offered his arm to her.

Kristen Pirian Livia Quinnick

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Damn, he knew he should have avoided all of this, now he had to dance. To make it worse, it wasn't even with Kristen. He watched her go with a slight smile on his face from her poetic words, although it did drop when he saw the individual she was walking towards.

No, he did not get jealous.

Alistair forced himself to turn away as his eyes searched for someone he actually knew...and there she was. He quickly crossed the dance floor to greet his old friend.

"It has been a while Evie. May I have this dance?"

He offered his hand to her trying to ignore several things. One, the last time he had spoken to Evie they were fighting a cult goddess. Second, if Evie was in a bad mood then he would be poisoned by various things. Third, he could not dance.

Everleigh Ebersol