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Masha Babicheva

Sorry (for party rocking)

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Masha Babicheva

It was no surprise that Team Durmstrang had demolished the Second Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It was even less of a surprise, especially to the classmates that had put up with her for the better part of seven years, that Masha still hadn't let up on the celebration, even with the final task looming as it was on the horizon.

 

Her enthusiasm started small: congratulations shouted to her teammates across broad expanses of lawn and students and anything that stood in the way, bundles of flowers conjured and bestowed upon any person who spoke well of the school itself, an unwavering grin that only seemed to grow as the days went on. It built and swelled—announcements made to regale passerby of the events they'd all watched, banners strewn about Hogwarts castle with the Champions' faces plastered on them, endless nights throwing stones at windows to reanalyze strangers' thoughts on the outcome of the task—until it seemed Masha had burned herself out from the sheer effort it took to stay that sunny alone.

 

There was one final spark left that she kept and cultivated, though, grew until it burned hot enough to release with confidence. It ended, finally, on a mostly frozen night, with a party.

 

A party fit for kings, in Masha's opinion. Streamers, balloons, Hit Jams for all the party people; food from every country that was represented by the Durmstrang students (some more tempting than others, but none would go without the comforts of home), drinks that reflected the same. Multi-colored bubbles strayed through the air around the picnic blankets she'd painstakingly arranged in front of the Durmstrang ship for her guests' comfort. Games, both Muggle and magical, lined the water's edge, if for nothing else than to give the stragglers something to bond over. (Masha wasn't going to toot her own horn, but it was certainly the most appealing party she'd ever set up.)

 

Help yourselves to anything you'd like!” she announced at the first guests who arrived, then the second, then the tenth and thirtieth and fiftieth; a hostess through and through, she'd let no one be left out of the festivities.

 

---

A true celebration has begun! ICly, someone would have invited you to this party, but anyone wandering in on it wouldn't be turned away. There are games, there's food, there's drinks—it wouldn't be beyond the realm of possibility that some of these things are charmed to have various effects that they should not have and anything you'd like to rp as happening at this party is completely valid. You can absolutely GM Masha handing your character a sketchy drink/weird-smelling food or forcing them into interaction with someone if you'd like.

 

Though parading as a celebration for Durmstrang's past (and hopefully, future) success, this is really just an excuse to get as many people, foreign and otherwise, as possible together to interact and have some fun before the end of the year!

Edited by Masha Babicheva

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Isla Reimann

Since she hadn't been selected as a Champion and she hadn't been allowed go home, Isla had dedicated herself to the life of a recluse. She missed her brother and her few friends back at home. It hadn't been easy to make any here either. A few conversations had been had here and there. A few flirty smiles at some boys. Never much in the way of a follow up. Hiding herself away in the powder puff caravan had become her life. She sat alone at meals and when she wasn't in her pastel bedroom, she was in the library educating herself and at least doing something useful with her time. 

 

But now she had heard there was a party happening, hosted by other delegates. And she could never say no to a social event. Tonight she broke her hermit status and headed out. Toppling along in heels no girl that tall should probably wear. But she defied social convention and wore them anyway.

It just made her stand out more.  Her legs look longer. Luckily she had worked out a charm to stop the narrow heels sinking into the grass. Those Witch Weekly magazines seemed to be just the thing. 

 

As she arrived a the party she quickly had a crystal glass of something shoved into her hand by a passing Masha. But before Isla could react and try and interact, Masha had bounded on by. Never mind then. Her grasp on the glass stayed as she made her way further into party, wondering if there was anyone she knew floating about. 
 

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Elio Nygaard

Elio hadn't exactly been on his best behaviour at Hogwarts...

 

Between tossing curfew out the window, trespassing into the Forbidden Forest and countless other transgressions, if he would have been a Hogwarts student he probably would have been expelled by now. Thankfully, everybody was way more preoccupied with the happenings of the Triwizard Tournaments and its Champions to pay any attention to the Swede. If it hadn't been for Masha's efforts on the lakefront, he probably wouldn't have noticed that they had won the Second Task. He chupsed, crossing his arms atop the rail of the ship and looking down at what seemed the beginning of a promising celebration, feeling guilty for having neglected his schoolmates and his lack of school spirit. 

 

The thought of lingering around and sampling a few of Masha's concoctions sounded like just the thing to show his support and catch up with a few of his friends. He glanced around the deck and wondered if he should drag @Linnéa Nordström down with him, she spotted her with her sketchbook on hand... he grinned, he couldn't think of a time where he hadn't seen her dragging her sketches around--inspiration could strike her at any moment. 

 

"LINNNYYY." He called out in a singsong voice as he pushed off from the railing and sauntered over to his friend, "You. Me. Party!" he explained his reasoning for the interruption, using finger guns and hand motion and lastly resorting to grabbing her wrist and literally dragging her down to meet their hostess. 

 

"Which of these drinks will guarantee a good time @Masha Babicheva?" he inquired, a devilish grin stretching across his face.

 

 

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Damaris Denton

The last time that she had found herself at a party thrown by Durmstrang students, she had accidentally consumed poison and been caught in the middle of a veritable duel as she was tied up, silenced, and then untied and unsilenced more times than she could count. Now that the year was drawing to a close, she felt like she had to do something. She hadn't had contact with Asen since that night, and she wanted to make sure she apologized. She even wanted to offer to stay in touch, though she had no idea if he would ever agree to such a thing. He hadn't gotten in trouble because of Addison and Kat, had he? She really hoped not.

 

There were older students at the party so far, and she was beginning to feel as out of place as she had the first time when she had accidentally gotten her hands on an invitation. Hopefully this party wasn't going to end being broken up by prefects all over again. 

 

She cleared her throat as she approached. "Hi, um....has anyone seen Asen Everard? I have a letter that I want to give him." She held the letter up and waved it a little to corroborate her story. 

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Masha Babicheva

So far, so good. People were mulling and mingling and that was good

 

"A good time?" If Masha weren't so used to that grin of Elio's, she might be concerned. As it stood, she saw it as simply a declaration of dedication to a fun party. "Give these a whirl, yeah? Don't drink too much." She handed @Elio Nygaard and @Linnéa Nordström two glasses, an innocuous enough hot-chocolate based drink with a touch or two of some laugh-inducing ingredients to liven things up. 

 

A small Slytherin girl was attempting to find someone—quite a task for a party full of loud teenagers—but Masha stood beside @Damaris Denton to add some more volume for her, near screaming, "ASEN. ASEN TO THE FRONT, PLEASE. ASEN, YOU HAVE AN ADMIRER," and she wasn't sure if it would help, but it was the thought that counted. She gave the girl a friendly pat on the head, turned her towards the snack while she waited, then dived back into the throngs.

 

"Isla!" Masha knew she'd spotted the girl, however briefly, had given her a drink and whisked away to keep mingling, but she wasn't going to abandon the Beauxbatons girl for the entire party. " @Isla Reimann, is your drink okay? Have you had food? Haaaave you met my friend," her arm shot out and snagged a random passerby, "my good, good friend? You two need to talk. You'll love each other."

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Felicia Fletwock

In the act of approaching @Masha Babicheva, Fe was snagged.

 

(It was, overall, an accurate summation of the year. Fe's adoration had been immediate, electric, and everlasting. She felt constantly on the verge of embarrassing  herself – a feeling that occurred NEVER in a Fletwock – but had thus far dodged bludger after proverbial bludger when they hung out.)

 

She almost lost her footing, long legs splaying foal-like from slippery grass and naked-soled shoes. Masha's hand – M A S H A ' S   H A N D – was on her forearm; Fe hoped the older girl would not detect the goosebumps, the frizz of hair on her arms rising, pleasure, and sheepishness she tried to shear when she met Masha's eyes and grinned superbroad.

 

"Go on, talk some more about how good I am." Boasting came easy – as easy as red-rush cheeks and the buzz in her abdomen.

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