December 23rd, 1894 — Christmas Shakespearean Medieval Masquerade Ball

Another masquerade, but August did best at the Shakespearean ones. His mask was simple, but his outfit was stylized in the manner of the Shakespearean time, complete with a ruffled neck collar — he was playing at being Falstaff, even though the character had several qualities that August found abominable.

Of course, any ball meant that he was shoved in the directions of varying women by his friends. August rolled his eyes in his brother-in-law's direction and tried for a soft smile at the woman he'd been aggressively introduced to.

"I'm afraid he lied to you," August said, with a half-smile. "I wasn't in Italy last year." He'd been to Italy, while on a brief tour before he joined the DMLE, but he certainly hadn't been as far south as Palermo. Leon knew that, of course — Leon was trying to make sure that August stayed on the flirtation-horse by any means necessary.

Sybella Capobianco Philomena Sprout

  

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set by Bree

The Dempseys were well known throughout society for their…eccentricities, but that didn’t usually stop Sybella from attending their events. Yes, perhaps the touches they lent to their events sometimes were pulled off a bit heavy handed, but why should that stop attendees from enjoying the ball? This year’s theme was quite delightful, and Sybella was entirely happy to go as Beatrice. Though who might be able to guess, it was anyone’s gamble. She dressed in a frock that erred on the side of simplicity with a few masculine details added to perhaps allude to Beatrice’s more brash nature; however aside from this she left it up to the observer to decide.

In any case, it was a fantastic ball to observe others’ efforts and to meet new people. Her friend had tugged her into a circle where she’d been introduced to a few people, chief of whom was Mr. Echelon-Arnost who had apparently been in Italy last year. Never one to tire of talking about her home country, Sybella smiled at him kindly when the group broke into smaller conversations. “Oh?” Sybella gave a soft laugh, flicking her eyes to the one who had thrown out the fact in the first place before resettling upon Mr. Echelon-Arnost. “Were you ever in Italy then?” She inquired, brows canted up to echo her doubt that even that was true.

  

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Sybella speaks with a slight Italian accent.
Her family is well known throughout the Sicilian Mafia; if your character is attuned within those circles, they might know who she is.

She did not seem to be particularly offended by Leon's lie, or she was hiding her feelings. "Briefly, when I was on tour," August answered. But he had not been on tour for very long — only while he was waiting for his N.E.W.T. scores — so had not experienced as much of Italy as other men would.

"So I was primarily in Rome. And it was a very long time ago," August said, his expression sheepish.

  

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set by Bree

“On tour, you say?” Sybella returned, her interest slightly piqued. She liberated a nearby tray of one of its champagne flutes and took a sip. “My family is primarily in Sicily,” She explained. “How long ago and what were you there for if you don’t mind me asking?” Hopefully he wouldn’t; this was a masquerade after all, was it not? And she’d just been on the receiving end of someone’s thinly veiled attempt at matchmaking. She might as well indulge while the opportunity presented itself.

  

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Sybella speaks with a slight Italian accent.
Her family is well known throughout the Sicilian Mafia; if your character is attuned within those circles, they might know who she is.

"Oh, twenty years," August said, with a light laugh. Somewhere along the line he'd gone and gotten old. He still was not sure how it had happened. Lysander would be a first year in September. "Have you heard of the Grand Tour? It's a bit of a tradition for young British gentlemen — they travel, primarily in southern Europe." He hadn't bored her yet, or at least she was making a good show of being polite and interested, so he ought to keep up the conversation.

  

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set by Bree

The phrase struck a chord of familiarity within the witch and Sybella gave a laugh. “Oohh,” Her gloved hand came up to cover her mouth as she chortled. “It was one of those tours.” Yes, being witness to many of those aforementioned British gentlemen traveling in Southern Europe had certainly helped with Sybella’s mastery of the English language, much to her mama’s chagrin.

“My brothers envied you and your contemporaries quite a lot,” She replied, remembering how Luca and Sylvano had begged their parents’ permission to do the same; while a little leeway was given to them after school to participate in the regular amounts of upper crust debauchery that their kind usually got into, after Sybella’s kidnapping and their father’s death, everything ceased. Shirtsleeves were rolled up and the family business was put at the forefront of both her brothers’ minds. “They got to travel some —” Including going to rescue her from her captors. “— but it was cut short unfortunately. I trust you had fun while you were in Italy, though?”

  

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Sybella speaks with a slight Italian accent.
Her family is well known throughout the Sicilian Mafia; if your character is attuned within those circles, they might know who she is.