Beata's Winter Formal 2016

Will smirked as she tried to dance around the word spiked. "Do I know that the punch is all liquored up? Yeah. That's the fun part of tonight," he said, finishing up his second cup. The Autumn poured a third cup and took a sip. Looking at the girl, he knew that she wouldn't drink any. But he sure as hell was going to drink. He was probably going to drink enough for the both of them combined.

---

Thomas was busy petting the bunnies and smiling like an idiot when he noticed a boy and a girl dancing awkwardly nearby. It looked as if the boy was drunk and the girl just really didn't want to be there. He watched as the boy continued to hit on her and the girl being uncomfortable. The Summer had to look away before he said something that might get him punched. He didn't like seeing anyone forced to do things against their will but he didn't like getting into fights. So he just sighed and went back to petting all the cute lil bunnies.

---

Mikaela walked around awkwardly and felt a little bare without her brother's leather jacket. She didn't know many people there and those that she did she didn't know very well. After grabbing a packet of M&Ms, she wandered for a few more minutes and then she spotted Aleta. The Summer girl didn't really know Aleta all that well, but she was Leo's little sister so Mika felt that she could at least talk with her for awhile. "Hey Aleta, mind if I hang out with you for a bit? I don't really know many people here," she admitted.

Aleta looked up from the entrance of the Grand Hall to see Mikaela greet her. She recognised the girl from not only the Thanksgivings dinner, but also the occasional times that she visited the daycare. They didn't talk much, but Aleta knew that she was close with Leo. "Hey Mikaela! I don't mind." Aleta smiled back at the older student. "I was thinking about ditching, Leo offered to put an old childhood tux of his on Shepard if I stopped by." The spring student shifted her stance, glad she did not wear actual stilettos. "Thoughts?"

---

---

Another student strolled into the Grand Hall, thumbs hooked around his pant pockets and a maroon beanie covering his black hair. He wore a black vest over a maroon dress shirt paired with matching black pants and shockingly fitting suede dress shoes. Axel paused, wide eyes taking in the mystery of the snowflakes that fell from the ceiling--but disappeared soon after. What else would someone expect from a school full of gifted people? At one side, there was bunnies and another was food. Who didn't like food?

Axel continued his stroll towards the food, wondering if his brother would have the balls to actually go to the formal. The teen puffed out his cheeks and blew out, pushing a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. With one hand he picked up a mini bite sized sandwich and tossed it in his mouth. 'Food tastes better when its free."

---

---

Blond hair bounced as he peered into the hall. It was familiar to him after a few years of being in Beata. Especially after the year prior. But he liked to keep that off of his mind. Never before did he dislike being short as much as he did then. His cheeks went red at the thought. Never again. With that in mind, Chip scooted the rest of the way in, finding himself gravitated towards the bunnies. What he didn't consider was that he looked like a small child--playing with bunnies. Which was a child like act.

What wasn't childish was the effort he had put into his appearance, a dress shirt with a blue tie and a silver watch that caught on the hairs of the boy's arm. In which he would jiggle his arm in an attempt to keep it from catching. From then on, Chip distracted himself with spending time with little creatures. Their soft fur was distracting from the embarrassing memories from the year prior.

Still standing alone, Pepper watched as the hall became busier and busier as students slowly shuffled in, some with dates and some without. I wonder where Jake is... usually the Autumn would've arrived by now but maybe he was just running a little late tonight. Or maybe he got hooked on the way over and decided to take a quick pit stop...

Wishing Louis was here for her to hang out with her so she didn't feel so lonely, Pepper let out a sigh and shifted her gaze to the food table that had some students floating around it. Might as well get something to fill the empty void in her stomach.

Making her way to the table in her somewhat small and uncomfortable flats, the Spring made sure to steer clear of the punch bowl and found herself standing beside a boy in front of the sandwiches. Well, don't want to look too antisocial, she reminded herself and took a deep breath.

"Uh, nice decorations, don't you think?" the asked, nervously messing with her ponytail before grabbing a small sandwich.

~~~

Walking into the formal, Jax had no idea what to expect. The Summer strode up to the Grand Hall doors with a not so "normal" suit, though he wasn't the type to be embarrassed over wearing it. White undershirt, pants, belt, and to top it off, a sparkly pink vest. A suit not many people were seen in or would want to be seen in, but he liked it, so what the hell did it matter what anyone else thought?

Opening the big double doors, he walked into the hall, bubbling with excitement. And boy was he about to burst.

Looking around, Jax admired the work done by who ever decorated and when he saw the bunnies, his heart melted. What dance had bunnies? None that he could have recalled. Looking for his brother, Axel, the Summer wondered if he'd come, seeming to not be the dancy sort of guy. Soon enough he spotted his brother and low and behold, some girl was with him.

Per usual, as soon as he spotted the girl standing next to his brother, he immediately jumped to conclusions. Strolling over to Axel, the silver haired student swung his arm over his brother's shoulder in a cheery sort of manor. "Looks like someone got lucky tonight," he teased, holding his brother tight between his arm. Although they were in High school, he'd always love his brother no matter how much Axel hated it and wasn't afraid to show it.

It was weird to think that this was Noah's second Winter Formal.

Last year, he'd spent most of his time by the punch bowl with a few of his Autumn acquaintances, secretly resenting them for not being able to get drunk. He hadn't had a date, and hadn't even particularly known anyone very well. Overall, it had been a pretty awkward experience. This year, though, he wouldn't have to repeat said awkward experience. He knew people now, and not to mention, he would have a dancing partner this year.

There was a little prickle of nervousness in the Autumn's stomach, though. Tonight, he planned on asking said dancing partner something he'd been meaning to bring up for a little while. Noah had gone out with plenty of girls before, but he couldn't say he'd ever met a girl that could make things disintegrate into thin air.. And not to mention, she knew a few intricate details about Noah that no one else knew, to put it lightly. They'd been friends (with benefits) for a while now, and he wanted to solidify that.

Hopefully Sophia had similar interests.

Briefly, Noah stopped before entering the Grand Hall to pat down his tux, ridding it of snowflakes, and the pushed through the doorway. It was just as elegant as it had been last year. Faux-snowflakes fluttered around in the air, and pale blue lights illuminated the decor and flooring to make it all look like ice. As he strolled around, getting a better look at the displays and lighting, he spotted a slim figure in a deep red dress standing a little ways away from him. At first, he couldn't tell who it was, but when he caught sight of the side of her face, it clicked. He slipped his hands into his pockets and strolled over to where she was, and with the cheesiest grin humanly possible, said, "Hey, can I get a picture of you so I can show Santa what I want for Christmas?"

---

Peter had never actually been to a high school dance before. His parents had always barred him from doing so. The only dances he'd ever attended - if they could be counted - were his younger sister's ballet recitals. Anything else was "an improper, immature waste of time". Now that he was away from his parents, though, he was finally able to go to one.

Everything was immaculate - the decorations, the lights, the band playing softly off to the side, and of course, everyone's outfits. People who normally dressed so plainly had gone all-out tonight. Peter himself hadn't done anything too fancy, however - he was fitted simply with a pair of black slacks, a dark blue tie, and a loose, light grey dress shirt. Tuxedo jackets didn't fit over his shoulders, what with the bulky steel and all, so he'd made due with this.

The Spring wasn't very well-acquainted with anybody just yet, so he opted rather to meander around by himself, absorbing the scenery of the room. It was like winter indoors, only without the unpleasant nip of the cold night air. The snow effects were quite fascinating - it looked so real, and yet, before it could land on anything, it dissolved into nothing. Beata staff had really outdone themselves.

Eventually, Peter wound up at the buffet table, which was littered with every type of hors d'oeuvre imaginable. Absentmindedly, as he watched the snowflakes flutter around above his head, he poured himself a cup of the punch and brought it to his lips. Immediately, as soon as it slid down his throat, he erupted into a coughing fit, repulsed by the unexpected bitterness of the drink. What in the world..?

What kind of face was that?! Color exploded across her face. "Wh-what the hell is that supposed to mean?" she spluttered. Kayla rubbed her arms, averting her gaze. Sparks crackled above her head like tiny blue roses. "Thanks. I am a fucking girl, if you hadn't noticed." They'd only lived together two or three years, shit. Her eyes wandered from him to the floor to him to the punch bowl to him again.

She let her voice drop, the worst of her anxiety evaporating away into fizzling currents down her arms seeing that familiar stupid smirk. Even if he was looking at her funny, he hadn't laughed his ass off yet. Did she look that weird? "Don't talk to me about shabby." He looked just fucking fine, like he always did, better than half the tools in rental tuxes that she'd seen so far. When had Pres ever had to worry about something like that?

---

Jane chuckled under her breath at the mock accent. He could be weird sometimes. Not in a bad way, but weird. Quirky? Was that the polite way to say it? She took his arm, the other one firmly around the head of the cane. Tap. Taptap. Tap. Taptap. It was easy enough for him to stay stoic on their walk out from the infirmary, but he had pants, socks, real shoes, a suit. The cold bit right through her on their walk there, and it'd been so long since she'd wandered anywhere. By the time they were approaching the hall, she had to hide her heavy breathing, forcing it through her nose, her face flushed. "Thank you," she answered without a beat. Heels, cane, frost, an awkward stilted walk. She made sure to hold on tight. If she was going down, he was going down with her. "Black's always been my color." She turned to him, smiling. "I was a bit of a Hot Topic child growing up, if you can imagine."

---

Poppy smoothed her dress down one last time in the mirror before she headed out. It was a light, sheer dress, black and plain and unadorned, older than sin. One of her mom's hand-me-downs, from the Stone Age or something. Check. She glazed on some little kid Hello Kitty lip gloss, in one of those tiny glittery pink bottles, and smacked her lips, running her fingers through her unbrushed hair. Finger guns, a wink at her reflection, clicking her tongue. Lookin' fly.

The last time she'd worn heels, she'd tripped off a fire escape, and she didn't own a pair anyways. That left her work boots or her old Vans, scuffed and scraped from years of chafing up griptape, and she might have been mistaken, but no one had ever worn boots with a dress in the history of man or womankind. Sneakers would do fine. No bracelets or earrings or anything, but she had a couple of rubber bands on one wrist and a broken watch on the other, just in case. No necklace either, but she did have a black ribbon for a choker. Nana always said it made her look like a dog, and then she'd swat her with a newspaper, but she didn't count on that happening at the Formal. Finishing touch, potentially lethal doses of trashy men's body spray and something like twenty eight cherry Tic-Tacs.

She was hot shit. Just admit it.

Poppy busted through the doors, whistling. Snow. Hey, but it hadn't been snowing outside. She glanced up. Down. Up again. Oh. It was snowing inside. Like, not from the sky. From  the ceiling. This was worse than when pa had locked her up in the shed with all the open paint cans and then she'd started hallucinating about the chupacabra. Poppy fixated on the flakes, shrugged, and cut toward the punch table.

Love? Love? She'd only barely met this guy, if you could even call this a proper meeting, and yet he was already so close to her, spinning her around, holding her close, entwining her fingers with hers. There was definitely something wrong here. The poor girl's face was redder than a beet, her body stiff as she tried to keep up in whatever dance he had dragged her into. What was she supposed to do? What could she say? Her power was trouble some enough as it was. One wrong twitch of her finger, and his hand would splinter in half, or if she slipped or took a bad step, the precious floor beneath their feet might even break.

'Tasukete.'

The Summer clenched her eyes shut tightly for a moment. Was she supposed to answer him and - oh God - his face was getting super closer to hers. She found herself reflexively leaning back. "Ishiko." She answered, her voice little more than a whisper. Any other words were unable to escape, silence by her rapid heart.

For a moment, she tried to decide what was worse, the run in at the clubrooms or, well, this.

---

It hadn't taken Liam long at all to finish his first glass of punch. The alcohol had been masked away far too much by the sweetness of the juice, and it made drinking it little of a chore at all. He wondered how many more glasses he could fit in before his date arrived and, only after standing up to test whatever hypothesis had come to his mind, did he finally see that familiar blonde haired siren standing not too far off. The red-head made quick to set his glass back down, his attention full on her.

Classy. That was the best way he could think to describe it. All the other girls he'd seen here were all short cuts, obnoxious colors, or - hell - he could have sworn he'd even seen a gown made entirely of feathers, of all things, but the way the warm yellow complimented her figure with soft frills, or the shawl she kept draped neat and proper over her shoulders; it reminded him of the old movies he loved so much, or of... Well...

... Hell. Whatever. She looked amazing. A-maiz-ing.

"I do," Liam answered. It was difficult to mask away his smile then. "You need to dress up more often, Blondie."

---

At least he was honest about it, she supposed. Dakota wasn't sure she could ever be quite so straight forward, and she wasn't certain she should have been surprised by him either. "I guess you won't get many more chances after this," The Spring mused. While she was somewhat uncomfortable so many people were flaunting around a few basic laws, she wasn't going to be the one to rain in on Will's parade. Instead, she offered him a small smirk, reaching up with a dainty hand straightening his tie, flattening it down with a small graze of her hand. It must have been messed up at some point without him noticing. "Make sure you can stay on your feet, at least." Kota laughed under her breath. "I might want a dance. Or two."

Soon as the words left her mouth, she froze. It felt natural to tease him, poke fun at him, just being around him in general felt easy. And yet, there was that slight guilt that haunted her all the same, creeping in the pit of her stomach that made her draw her hand back, rubbing away at her arm instead.

---

Fucking obviously, she was a girl. What he'd meant was that ... shit. Maybe he wasn't quite so sure himself. What exactly did he mean? As bright red as her face had become, his couldn't have been that far off a similar shade. The young man frowned, darting his ocean-like eyes away. "You know, you fucking look like - how girls are supposed to look...?" Oh, so un-elegantly, the words went tumbling out of his mouth. "Fuck, I mean, you looked like one already, but -" Everything was coming out all wrong. Preston took in a deep breath, forcing to swallow whatever bitter pill he'd just made on his own and pushing himself along.

"Just give me your damned arm," Pres muttered, reaching out for her hand and not waiting for much else of an answer from her. He must have been losing it or something. From the moment his skin had brushed against hers, no matter the small touch, he could feel the familiar tingle of sparks dancing across his grasp. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Ready for that drink, he forced himself to take in a deep breath of air, resting the soft bundle of flowers across the back of her wrist. The Autumn took care to move slowly then (having spent way too long having to make this stupid corsage thing), looping the delicate ribbing holding the piece together and tying it into a small, practiced bow around her. "There." Fuck. Pure white with hints of green. It sorta matched her outfit. Not really.

He arched an eyebrow at her quiet mumbling, smiling. He noticed her face growing redder and redder, and he smirked. She looked so adorable when she got red. He gave her a gentle nose flip, smiling sweetly. He hadn't ever thought he was so intimidating. "Nice name. Ishiko. Rolls on the tongue. I'm Floriano. You a loner here, too?" he grimaced. It was so annoying to be a lonely person at a formal, but hanging around with someone new was nice.


He let go of her hand, spinning on the dance floor with a childish laugh. "You saw them bunnies?" he smiled, glancing over the dance floor to the garden where there were the fluffy balls of fur.

He had heard of the formal before. There was a buzz going around campus about the winter formal and how excited everyone was. At first, Declan was not to fond of formals, but since everyone seemed to want to go (including Thomas), he figured he would give it a try. Straightening out his bow tie and making sure that his hair was in shape, he stared at the mirror to make sure that everything was perfect. As he looked himself over, he couldn't get over how perfectly tailored his tuxedo was and how he knew he would impress at least some people there if they weren't too formally dressed themselves. With a deep breath, he walked out of his room and to the grand hall. It didn't take too long, and upon entering he looked around. All of the decorations were rather stunning, his eyes fixated on the falling snow that lingered above them. That was one effect that he had never seen before and it practically blew his mind on how they managed to do that.

When he finally came back to reality, however, he finally took a chance to look at the people who had arrived. Most were dressed in regular tuxes that were obviously not fitted as well as his own and all of the girls had some kind of flashy and more prom-like dresses. It was strange. This was a formal, right? Fancy finger foods, classical music, dinner tables set up with every fork and spoon imaginable? No? Well, this was unexpected. Swallowing hard at his mistake, he glanced around for anyone he knew, preferably Thomas. If he was going to come alone, he might as well make it fun with a friend.

"There you are. What the hell are you doing with a bunch of rodents?" Declan walked over to Thomas who was cuddling the bunnies with a confused look on his already uncomfortable face. "You're going to get covered in hair and lint. If you need one of those little lint rollers, I got one. Don't want to be embarrassed by rabbit fur."

---

This was it. It hadn't been very long since he had gotten back. In fact, Richard had just gotten home only a few days ago unbeknownst to nearly everyone. He had already spoken with the headmaster about what had happened but even that was almost too difficult to get through. After spending several weeks in the hospital in Germany before returning, he had never been so happy to be back in the United States. However, it had still been a difficult transition, primarily with the large cast that was wrapped around his right arm and the bandages that were still wrapped around his head. He had been told that he didn't have to wear them but it hurt too much to keep them off for too long.

Never had he realized that trying to get dressed into something nice while wearing a cast would be so difficult. While he still have most movement of his fingers, it was frustrating trying to pull the long sleeves over the cast and make it fit properly. Once he got it though, he moved on to the jacket, easily sliding it onto his left arm but as he got to his right, the sleeve grew way too tight. With a huff of annoyance, he tried hard to pull it over but it wouldn't budge. Instead, he ended up taking it off and tossing it to the side. Who needed a jacket anyway? He already looked pretty terrible. Why finish his look?

Glancing at himself in the mirror, he slumped as he saw exactly how unkempt he looked. The white dress shirt looked nice but he couldn't straighten out his tie and his hair fell awkwardly over the bandages that garnished his forehead. Narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips, he finally just gave up. This is the best he could do. Not that it mattered, though. He was only going to be a chaperone, if that. He was barely fit to do his job in this shape but he was going to try. Besides, he was excited to see his girlfriend. His real girlfriend.

He had been thinking about Brailynn every single day since he had managed to escape the hellish prison of the labs. He had barely slept because of her, actually. Every time he closed his eyes, the only thing that he could see was the tortured look on her face from the illusions in the lab... If they were even illusions. He had been constantly told that none of it was real but for some reason, he just could not separate reality from fantasy. It had looked, sounded, and felt so real at the time. All he hoped was that when he saw her, she would be in one piece, dressed lavishly and happy as she danced carelessly around the grand hall.

A small smile peaked on the corner of his lips as he thought about it. Now all that was left was to go. Thankfully, he had been staying on campus since he had gotten back so that he could be looked after as he continued his slow recovery, primarily for his mental state more than physical. The nightmares were the worst part but as the formal grew closer, he found himself having less of them. He desperately hoped that diving back into his normal routine would help him a lot. With that thought, he finally walked out of the door and across campus to the grand hall.

It sounded like there was a big party as Richard came up to the door to the hall. Pausing for just a moment before he walked in, he took a deep breath to try to calm himself. It had been so long since he had roamed these halls and buildings and seen these people... Who knew how they would react to him being here? Trying to keep himself composed and calm the shaking of his hands, he finally pushed the door open to be blasted immediately by music and flashing lights as well as the snow that drifted from the ceiling. It was just as gorgeous as he remembered but already his eyes were focused on only finding one person: Lynn. Never had he wanted someone to show up to a formal so badly before, but nothing else mattered until he found her.

"I'm glad. You look nice too," Maisie said silently, with a small smile, the blush on her cheeks painting her a new, kinder face. She, however, seemed to sink into her elegance with the serenity of a bullshark, her eyes quickly fading into something of an annoyance, like the loud music and obnoxious party-goers were already radiating into her attitude. She bit her lip, which her mom had spent way too much time glossing, let alone doing the hair. It was so much time, so much effort in preparation, and now it was happening, and it was a fireworks show and chocolate fountain away from being worth it. "What are you drinking?" she asked, suspecting the answer to be punch but smelling something of a tang coming from him, or rather, the general air of the grand hall. Had he snuck something in?

________

"I can," Logan said with a grin, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of the grand hall entrance. He distached from the girl only to hold the door open for her, catching the heavy burden from the last guy who decided to make the gesture. "We all have our goth phases. After you." The air behind him had a taste of pungency, one he could not identify. It wasn't sweat, no, it was cleaner. Like a hospital, but higher in the air.

Perhaps it was good he was getting out of that infirmary.

"I left Madison for you," Logan said with a stiff smile, one that comforted with each step they took from the open door and the air it ushered. "If she wakes up and hurts herself, you'll have to answer to the Headmaster."

What?! "You're making fun of me, aren't you?!" she gasped, more scandalized than pissed off. Jesus, that was par for the course, she guessed, but she hadn't known what she was expecting. Some gentlemanly flourishes? Taking her hand and leading her out to the dance floor? Her eyes shot open again, a static fuzziness filling her head, and she glanced away. "You're so making fun of me!" Ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous. A loose smile played at the edges of her lips, thin as twine. She guessed she'd expected this kind of thing the whole time. He was always saying something to get under her skin, and shit, that's what made this all so much more comfortable than...

Aggghhh...

She didn't know where that thought was carrying her, but she let it break off the tracks. Something about it made her head spin.

Kayla flinched at the sudden touch. Her arm went limp as he clasped her wrist, fiddling with... something, fastening on... something. Sparks tickled between them, like they always did when they got too close, and she could feel the sparks popping around her head and scurrying down the back of her dress, her whole body feeling fluid. When he pulled his hand away, his handiwork all finished, she just stared, bringing the tiny bundle of flowers up closer to her face.

She looked it over, delicate. "Um, thanks..." she finally managed. It didn't come out half as loud as she'd wanted it to. "What is it...?" Besides some kind of joke? Like was she going to get a rash from it or something?

Pretty, she guessed...

---

She'd planned on killing herself in this dress. Before Beata. Poetic, beautiful, first-class death. They would've made movies about her. She'd had it all figured out, but she'd still slipped up. Oops. Ever since then, it'd just been sitting neglected in her closet, nothing as exciting as a suicide to warrant dragging it back out again. This year she'd been too busy with physical therapy and regaining weight to fixate on dress shopping. Winter Formal had crept up on her in a blink. There hadn't been any time.

Either Formal, or wear the same thing she'd worn the year before. She'd fallen back on this.

Did that apply to him too? Skinny jeans and guyliner? The difference, as far as she was concerned, was that she still wasn't out of that phase. She smiled at him, taking the lead and stepping through the door. "Why thank you."

Here was the Grand Hall. The couples, the snowflakes, as breathtaking as it'd always been. She barely paid attention to any of it. "Well excuse me," Jane answered with a glance over her shoulder. "If you wanted to spend Formal night with Madison instead, you should've strapped her in a chair and brought her out here. Don't let me get between you two. I could've found another date, but you broke that girl's poor heart. Now what is she going to do?"

Lay there, like she always did. That didn't mean anything.

Speaking of her other date... Her eye swept past Jake, a giant in this crowd, taking another girl's coat. The top of her head wouldn't even reach his shoulders while standing on the tips of her toes. Cute. If not him, maybe... She looked around and found Preston by the door, getting chewed out by a girl she barely recognized. From the bathroom. Her. Jane was quick to look away, just in case she was recognized.

That incident had put a strain on their working agreement, but even as friends... Could someone like that even be a real friend with a girl?

There was a hollow pang in her chest. She'd blinked and the world had rushed on ahead of her. Jane let her eye settle on Logan.

It didn't matter how many new things he learned, or how many new people he met, he would always feel like a stranger. Summer had turned to autumn, and autumn had turned to winter, and soon enough, winter would roll on by, too. Anthony had been here, in this time, for half a year, and he didn't feel any more at home than he had since he'd first arrived. 2036.. And now, in a few days, 2037. God damn.

New Year's should have marked the beginning of 1981 for him.

He could have been down at the pub playing jazzy Christmas songs for its patrons, downing shots and waving his sobriety an unapologetic goodbye. He could have spent the evening in his room, going though his vinyl collection and nodding off to the chaste singing of Lennon, a hot drink in one hand. He could have been having a rowdy evening with his buddies, marching drunkenly down the street and being branded a public nuisance. He could have been tasting the sharp bite of candy cane on Jess' lips, forgetting about his family, and the problems of the day before, and the day to come.

That was all what could have been, though, and now, Anthony found himself pushing through the doors of the Grand Hall, looking and feeling pretty.. Half-assed. Everyone - even the guys - looked as if they'd all taken two hours planning their looks out and doing up their hair properly. God, it was like a ball out of the 1800s, and he was the raggedy street hoodlum that had no business attending. He wasn't about to turn around and coop himself up in his room, though. If there really was no way for him to get back to where - or when - he'd come from, then there was no sense in wasting the rest of his life being a friendless hermit. Anthony the Lonely Bard. How quaint.

It didn't take him very long to start gravitating naturally towards the punch. It was almost as if he had a sixth sense that told him where the nearest opportunity to sate his underage alcoholism was. He was a tad surprised that someone had managed to smuggle rum in and dump it into the beverages at such a prestigious event, but hey, he wasn't complaining. Without particularly paying attention to who was sitting where, Anthony pulled back a chair across the table from Lucy and sunk into its curve. "How long d'you figure it'll be before they haul this away?" He waggled his glass.

Ishiko's eyebrows twinged. "I'm not a r- ron -" She wrinkled her nose as his finger flicked away at her nose. How much longer could she stand this? It was so over-personal and indecent and she was starting to think that there wasn't one some-what normal person at this school. "I'm not by myself so much..." The words went spilling awkwardly out. The young woman could have let out the biggest sigh of relief then and there once he'd finally let go of her hand, doing a strange twirl and catching sight of the very same bunnies she'd had her eyes on earlier.

She wiped her hand off on the side of her gown. "Yes, I saw them." Ishiko said, her voice low. They were all she'd been able to think about before he'd stolen her off her feet, to say the least. With her back still stiffened, she began a small shuffle for the rabbits, hoping maybe she could get up closer to them, finally.

---

Brailynn was already half-way through her second plate of cheese and crackers, unsure why, but it felt like she was suddenly starving, and the treats were so good. She had to make a mental note to get in a good workout later to try and make up for all the snacking, but it just completed the entire show that was, well, the formal. It was her job now to be nosy and people watch and, truthfully, it was far more entertaining than she'd originally anticipated. She'd always thought Verona weird for keeping a close eye on people around them, but she was starting to get the appeal. Everywhere, there were men swooping in with their best cheesy lines and girls twisting curls of hair around their fingers. A few of the manliest men were spending time in the bunny arena, cuddling away, and - oh - there was her star child...

Off near the front door, with a completely red face and a fresh corsage laced around her wrist. The Guardian couldn't help but gush, a stupid looking grin creeping up on her face. Absolutely adorable. Her hazel eyes narrowed in on that companion of Kayla's, thinking it difficult to try and tell apart who it was with his back turned away from her. Oh, well.

The young woman had been in the process of stuffing another cheese-towered cracker into her mouth when some jerk had to walk up and catch her off guard.

"Excuse me, Miss." Lynn caught sight of a familiar face beside her, "That food is for the students."

She sniffed in amusement. "Technically, yeah, but I doubt they'll miss it much." Her hazel eyes flickered from him to the drink in his hands. A sickly sweet red she easily recognized as the school's famous punch. The girl smiled, but she wouldn't have touched that stuff with a ten-foot pole. "You're not setting a much better example."

Jason merely laughed, stealing the seat beside her. "I don't want to be the one to break a time-honored tradition," he said, taking a long drink and wrinkling his nose.

She caught a few younger students shooting him strange looks. A teacher, of all people, if you could call him as much. Didn't he notice? Lynn could easily pass off for another student, but he didn't have the luxury of blending into the crowd this year around.

"You're not going to rat them out?"

The Guardian shook her head. "I'm only here to make sure nobody dies," she muttered, picking another cracker off her personal tray. Break up fights. Keep a watchful eye. She wasn't about to try and steal a punch bowl from a bunch of tipsy potential rioters.

She let her eyes scan the room again, sweeping over the people. "What's up, Cous'?" Brailynn leaned back into her seat, crossing her legs together. "You don't normally drop in. Are you still scared of me?"

It was hard not to laugh at his grimace. "No," he said, tapping at the rim of his glass.

"That's not what I remember."

"Lynn..."

She couldn't fight back her smile any longer. "But I don't want to play with her! She's so scaaaary!"

"That was ten years ago!" Jason snorted, turning his head away. "You broke my arm!"

"Au contraire," The former Spring smirked, pointing a finger, demanding a short silence. "The fall broke your arm. If you didn't want to get hurt, you shouldn't have played King of the Hill with me." She reached over, pinching a small block of cheese between her fingers. "A Queen must defend her crown."

He took another drink, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

Her grin had returned full force. She'd never, ever tire of teasing him, and would gladly take whatever chance she could get. "I don't see you running for that rematch," she mused, dusting off her hands and the crumbs away from her lap. "Where's your date anyways?" It wasn't like him to show up to these kinds of things alone.

He only shrugged, gazing off into the crowd. "That's a good question," Jace said. "And yours?"

In a mere heartbeat, her smile had turned sour. Ah, she'd brought that one right on herself. "Another good question," she mumbled. And suddenly, that punch didn't seem so terrible an option. Her date, it hurt to think about him, and she'd managed to survive most of the evening putting him out of her mind; focusing on primping up her dear Kayla, taking self-bets on who would be dancing with who, or how yummy these stupid crackers were - of all things. But thinking of him was unavoidable, impossible to forget.

Jason couldn't have known much about it. They liked to keep the most dangerous rumors wrapped up in the front office, but she knew all too well.

It'd been 173 days since she'd last seen him. She counted.

Maybe she was a real idiot for still holding onto that minuscule bit of hope. But hey, miracles happened all the time, her dad has always told her as much.

He seemed to pick up on her sudden change of mood and backed off, retreating to his drink, letting their little conversation drown away to the loud music around them. She couldn't help but feel somewhat ashamed. It was never good to let yourself be dragged down, or mope, not openly anyways. That's what she told herself.

Brailynn shrugged her shoulders, stretching them out. She felt stiff. "... I made it awkward, yeah?" The dirty blonde forced her smile to returned.

"Nah," His tone was light, reassuring, but even still she couldn't quite believe him. "Not at all."

She'd take it anyways, her eyes scanning the crowd once again.

"You know, I never wanted to think about it before, but there's some weird ass things around this place." Jace had no issue filling in the silence, if only to make her feel better. It was one reason to be thankful to have him stick around.

She leaned against the table, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. "You don't say?" In truth, she had already started to drown him out. "Besides the people who breathe fire and manipulate spoons?"

"Obviously," he answered with a bemused grin. "But in Sofia, they have the different dorms separated by gender. Very strict, and actual people around to monitor the halls. Not at all like here."

Weird, but what of it? They'd never had a problem from the co-ed set up. "It's always been that way," she said. "What about it?" Her hazel eyes drifted back towards the entrance, near her favorite, sparky couple in the crowd.

Jason sat forward again, seeming to get into whatever he was saying. "They separate the dorms based on personality, who is compatible living close with who, all that. They have to know about the drinks, or the parties, to some extent. It's not exactly a large town..."

Someone had stepped into the room behind Kayla and her precious not-a-date. It was hard to tell from afar, but they looked torn up, their suit a bit of a mess and wrapped in several bandages. They must've had a bad day.

"Every year, there's at least some sort of love monster running about ill-timed on Valentine's, which is ironic as fuck as it is."

Wait...

Brailynn frowned, narrowing her eyes. Clear across the room, she could make out a familiar mess of blonde hair, beneath all the roughness, and that face...

Her heart leaped up into her throat.

"They always try to encourage the students to stay in town after they graduate, get a place, kick back..."

She felt her entire body wash cold, a frenzy of lightning swirling around in her chest as she gripped at the soft cover of the table. Could it have been? It had to be.

"It sounds crazy, but do you think they might be trying to -"

Her buddy. Her best friend.
Her roommate. Her boyfriend.
Her love.

"Rich?" The name escaped her, softer than a whisper. Was Jace even talking anymore? She couldn't be sure. The young woman pulled herself up onto her feet, cold and fragile, like glass. "I'm sorry - I have to... Yeah..."

Brailynn hadn't even bothered to look back at him, taking a few shaky first steps out onto the dance floor, cutting straight through the middle and taking unsteady paces under neath the bright colored lights, her shadow flickering in differing directions. With every inch forward, it became more and more real, she wasn't dreaming. She couldn't have been dreaming.

It was really him.

She found herself frozen several yards away, warm tears already threatening to spill over. What was she supposed to do? What did she say? She was just so incredibly over whelmed that, she hadn't no idea, not a single clue, of what to do.

"Richard?" She called once more.

*ftr, i have no idea how long he was gone, that's just when his mission was made

---

He looked alright, he supposed, so long as Maisie wasn't bullshitting him then, Hell, he'd take that compliment to heart. At her question, his eyes flickered down to his glass, nothing left of it but a few empty red drops. "The drink of the evening," Liam tilted the cup around in his grasp, elegantly swirling around nothing but air. "Someone here knows how to enjoy themselves." No, it was not him, unfortunately, but he'd buy a beer for whoever graced the school's formal with their kind gift. Took a lot of booze to tank an entire punch bowl.

"Let's go get you some, Blondie." Whatever was mixed in must have been starting to his head, with a stupid, smart-ass smile, he held out one arm to her - like the true gentlemen he was stuck being for the evening; to take his lady to the delicate drinks, a whole four feet away.

---

The Autumn drew his hand back, retreating and rubbing away behind his neck instead, stalling for time or being left wishing that the right words would simply come to him. It was always so easy for him to talk to girls. He knew what they liked, what made their eyes sparkle, what they wanted to hear. And it was always easy to talking to Kayla because most of the God-damned time he didn't have to filter whatever the fuck sprang into his God-damned mind. Certainly not for the first time, he wondered what the shit was failing him now.

"It's a thing," Preston said, his voice assured but his answer undoubtedly lacking. Did she seriously not know? "You know, for the girls. Formal tradition. You get flowers and shit." And so he'd went and made it for her, obviously. To let the world know what whoever it was was taken, to match and be cute and shit. At first, he'd only started on it as a stupid joke, but somehow he'd spent all day working on it. "Just... Don't lose it."

He dropped his arm back down, shooting a quick glance around the room and giving him a steady moment to calm down; and yet once he looked down at her again, he found himself with a stupid smirk again all the same, small as it was. "Come on, let's go get a drink or something." Pres suggested, taking a step back. Knowing her, she probably couldn't wait to get her hands on that buffet.

A thing, no shit. Since when did he care about traditions? They had it all laid out. Show up together. Not together. Just at the same time. Talk, shoot the shit, demolish the snack table, whatever... Simple. Ever since it'd come up, she'd maybe, just maybe, been more and more looking forward to tonight the more she thought it out. That was then. She had no idea that Brailynn would doll her up like this, or that things would be this... Oh, fuck, she didn't know, not awkward, but... Like this. Why did it feel like she was talking to a complete stranger right now? Flowers on her wrist. Kayla stared them down, turning her wrist over, eyes curving over the thin ribbon and the neat bow. "Hm..." she voiced after a tortured silence, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "They're... nice. Pretty." The word felt foreign on her tongue.

So what, did he buy the stupid thing? She had a hard time imagining him on hands and knees picking flowers out in the grass just for... this. Why couldn't he get a date anyways?

Kayla couldn't help but sigh. Jesus, the snack table, yes. If they could get over this hump, then maybe things would start rolling a little easier, casual, comfortable, how things usually were... She nodded, letting out a stupid grin. "Yeah, shit. I'm fucking dying."

She stared out ahead of him, uncertain steps at a steady pace, still not trusting her own two feet in these heels...

---

Cup after cup after cup. She watched the punch in the bowl begin to dwindle as the table started to swarm with people, couples and loners, all types. From the sly looks and bits of whispered conversation she was able to catch, most people knew, and most people didn't care. Evelyn couldn't help but note just how easily she could've spiked the bowl with rat poison, and just how eager everyone would be to slurp it down. The Formal's famous spiked punch. To die for. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

She wasn't laughing. Evelyn knocked back another drink. A dull flicker of interest lit up in her head, glimpsing Eliza on the other side of the Grand Hall, alone. Maybe she should go up to her... It couldn't be easy navigating this chaos even with a cane. Maybe she shouldn't have been so hasty to leave, to hit the punch bowl early? Some company, any company, might be worth it, and she had to lean back, weighing the options... Was it worth bothering?

A voice. A warm, smooth voice, playful, she could hear the smile even without looking at his face. Evelyn turned to ice, her cup cradled in her hands, fixing her stare forward. He was there. Don't look. He was right there. Don't look. Right there, right next to her, and he didn't even notice, of course he didn't notice... Don't look. Who the hell was she?

Evelyn took in a deep breath. Her stomach lurched like she was staring out over a cliff. She barely heard what they were saying, but she clung onto every word. Don't look, don't look, you idiot, don't look, don't even pay attention, don't... The girl. The other girl. The other girl left, stumbling off like she was in a daze before he'd even finished what he was saying.

There wasn't anyone else now.

Don't...

She had to. She didn't care what happened, she couldn't just sit there and say nothing. Not with an opening like this. Not with a window like this. Evelyn turned to look at him, the same face she'd seen a year ago, past his messy clothes and locking onto his face, opening her mouth to speak.

"Jason," a voice laughed, light and sweet and high and perfect and fucking shit god damn it why. "This is magnifique." The tinge of an accent, golden hair that tumbled around her shoulders, a champagne dress and a porcelain face, eyes that melded from blue to green with every shift of light. Evelyn finished her drink. The woman held out her hands, perfect, delicate hands, watching the snowflakes disappear. "You have such a wonderful school, I cannot help but be envious..."

If looks could kill, she would've been splatted across the wall.

Evelyn tossed her empty cup over her shoulder and heard the clink of breaking glass against the wall. It was barely audible over the din.

Unease flickered across the woman's face like a shadow. Subtle, but Evelyn saw it, a glimpse behind that perfect mask, as the woman turned her gaze searchingly in Evelyn's direction.

She filled up another glass of punch, right to the brim, and splashed it across the front of Jace's shirt without even turning to look. Elodie's focus was shattered, and she jerked her stare back toward Jace. "Oh chérie, Monsieur...!" she gasped. "Je reviens tout de suite!" The woman turned and scampered away, looking for towels or napkins, and they were alone again, blissfully alone.

Now where had she been before?

Evelyn stole one last sip from what remained of the punch and set it down with a hard smack against the table, loud enough for him to hear. "O-oh!" she gasped. Like flipping a switch. The strain in her voice, the act, it felt far too genuine. "I-I'm so s-sorry...! I... I j-just..." She swallowed, staring down at her shoes. "Tr-tripped... It w-was an ac-acci-a-acci-... acshide..." Fuck. Deep breaths.

"That'd be some Weekend at Bernie's shit." Logan said with a laugh, pushing back a deep guilt for making jokes in his comatose patient's expense. He tugged on the tight collar of his shirt, and once again put a nose to the air. His eyes traced over to the punch bowl, and he raised his brow. Oh, was that it?

"You smell that, right...?" he turned interrogatively, only to see her focusing on him, and it seemed like she had been frozen in time. And like that, his previous assertions seemed to melt away, and he gave a sideways smile. "Had I mentioned how beautiful you looked tonight?" Perhaps it was the way she looked at him, but the assertion came back to his lips once more, and in the cacophony of music and voices and laughter all around them, her gaze made a bubble around them, and while the world rushed back around her, his stopped.

"You wanna get some punch?"

________________

"Let's," the girl said a little easier, walking forward with her hand raised towards his, ready to accept her arm in his. She placed her palm on his face instead, however, and took to walking alone with a snort of laughter and a devious sort of getaway. The fast attempt to the punchbowl became a little less flawless, though, as soon as she began to take some steps. A few wobbles and close calls later, and the girl stepped back to Liam, grabbing on to his shoulder with the same hand she had previously pushed into his nose for a Cornian gag. "These things are...hard..." she muttered through grit teeth, stamping her feet down with each further failure she made in staying level. Her blonde, curled hair bobbed and unraveled with each further exasperated movement; she was already prepared to take those shoes off and throw them at someone.

Maybe alcohol was a good idea.

_______________

Perhaps Lucy and Anthony were the same in a certain way. She too conducted herself in a distracted, uncertain way that suggested her unbelonging to the place she was in. Each button mash she made became a little more furious, like an orchestra reaching its crescendo, until a 'Game Over' screen prompted a sharp Dammit to dart from her mouth on a jagged spat. It seemed unakined to her soft voice, like a bed of spikes covered with the most cotton of blankets. The girl more threw the console down than placed it, and when she looked up, a boy was wiggling his glass at her. Any malevolence she had possessed sunk from her face like an insect darting from a flicked-on light.

"I-I'm sorry?" She giggled a breathy snort with the pallid humorlessness of anxiety. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you, I was...doing something." Something was right, she supposed. Her hand reached gingerly for the small game console, as if to surreptitiously move it from the table's surface. It seemed to be as fruitful as a soldier sneaking enemy intel from in front of their trench, however. How long had he been watching her?

Regret started to boil up, from both her coming to begin with and bringing video games. A chain of sparks started to go off in her head before he even replied. She was probably going to go to her dorm afterwards and play video games too. With her long-distance boyfriend and some Koreans she'd never met before. How lame was she? She would be a loser cat lady forever, the shut in destined to become the subject of some TLC show's episode! She always fantasized herself more the Korean drama character, but how could she be when her life was so boring!? The little handheld ruined her chances at a normal, slice-of-life prom!

This train of thought persisted, each frantic episode a catalyst for the next, until she was a twitching, panicked flower, wilting internally in front of the boy as she feigned coolness with a face redder than sin.

As he stood awkwardly in the entrance, he continued his search for the one person that mattered most. Unfortunately, it was getting harder and harder to focus as his head felt like it was going to explode even through the medication. Yet, he wanted - no, needed to stay to find that perfect blonde hair and what he could only assume would be an astoundingly gorgeous dress. As his eyes floated around the hall, though, he found himself losing hope. He was certain that he had checked every face and every corner a few times now with no luck.

A heavy sigh escaped him as his good hand ran through his hair, holding his head for a moment to try to make his headache subside. Of course, it failed to work and after his other failure of not finding his girlfriend, he figured that he would just leave and see her at some point, even though the big reveal outside of tonight would certainly make their reunion lose its luster. However, as soon as he turned to the door, something caught his attention.

"Richard?"

His name rang out clear as a bell. There was no mistaking it. As soon as it filled his ears, his heart nearly skipped a beat as goosebumps from excitement shot through his body. A grin from ear to ear spread across his face as he whirled around as quickly as he could so that he faced her. As soon as he saw her, everything about him lit up. A newfound light and joy sparkled in his eyes--something that hadn't been there in months. He immediately stood up straighter, pressed down the collar on his white dress shirt and cleared his throat to try to look a little more presentable.

"Brailynn..." he finally responded, although he found himself whispering it rather than calling for her. Right now, that didn't matter, though. Tears stung his eyes and threatened to spill over at any moment as he took in the sight of her. Everything about Lynn was more beautiful than he remembered. Her hair looked soft and delicate, as it draped down her back in a gorgeous braid over a stunning red dress that he had never seen before. He almost felt bad for how he dressed for this dance.

With a small laugh, he finally pulled himself out of his own head and tried to keep from getting lost in how amazing she looked as he strode across the room, rapidly closing the distance between them. His excitement was getting to him. As he crossed the floor, he felt like he was floating; he felt lighter than air. Before now, he had seriously underappreciated her presence but now, he was never going to let go.

"Lynn!" he almost squealed as he quickly swept her into a tight embrace when he got up to her, picking her up and spinning her around because he was smooth like that. It didn't take him long to put her back down on her own feet, though-- his arm wouldn't allow it for long. Instead, he voted to just hold her tight and not let go as happy tears finally trickled down his cheeks. It felt like ages before he felt like he could speak. "I missed you so much..." It managed to only come out as a whisper but as long as she heard him, he didn't care. "I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry..." he kept muttering.