12th April, 1890 — Hogsmeade Ballroom, A Wild Evening
@"Eavan Mackay"/@"Elsie Beauregard" & Amelia Evans

“Oh, spare me,” Porphyria deadpanned, as the wayward diricawl puffed into existence again right beside her. It was something she wouldn’t mind so much if the other bird weren’t a giant beside her, but she was unfortunately still a wren, and thus no bigger than most people’s palms. Though the other bird was a friendly giant, she should say. Perhaps too friendly.

The magical bird also didn’t seem deterred that she spoke in a human voice, either, so Porphyria pointedly hopped away from him, and then - when the diricawl followed - fluttered up to one of the redheads’ shoulders. She was glad they were here for company, at least (that they could be at a society event at all, being from the zoo in spite of being the class they were) and Porphyria wasn’t sure she would have attended otherwise.

But she had received a compliment or two on her attire tonight from people who evidently supposed this was just a particularly overboard costume. Porphyria liked to go overboard, but honestly! If she’d had her way she’d have come in a cloud of black feathers and a raven’s beak, probably, not this fuzzy little brown thing the size of a chick, and with a pert little tail!

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The following 2 users Like Porphyria Dempsey's post:2 users Like Porphyria Dempsey's post
   Amelia Evans, Melody Crouch

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a sublime set by Lady! <3

Well this party was certainly interesting.

In the couple of hours that she'd been here, she'd made fun of people with her da, had way too much champagne, watched Amelia flirt with a very handsome man from a safe distance, was alerted to Bastien's presence somewhere in this throng of people and now she was sporting Amelia's friend-turned-wren on her shoulder.

What a night.

The fact that she hadn't even flinched when Porphyria had settled herself on Eva's shoulder said a lot about how often that happened in her life. Luckily for both Phyri and Eva, diricawls were flightless birds and so Bastien had to settle at Eva's feet, looking up at his newfound love quite longingly. At least she knew where the little beast was now. "You can stop now, she's not interested." Eva chuckled, sipping at her glass of champagne, thoroughly amused at what was happening right now. Truthfully she'd been of the mind that tonight was going to be dreadful, but it was anything but so far! What a pleasant surprise!

"He won't though, I'm afraid," She told Phyri with another laugh. "Stubborn is his middle name."

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Amelia peered down through her mask at Bastien, laughing freely at his apparent infatuation with her friend. How odd yet entirely convenient that this curse had left her with the ability to speak. Amelia for her part had been gobsmacked when she found out what had happened to Phyri, and couldn't help but worry that she might be stuck like this forever. She knew that worry wasn't something she wanted to voice aloud; as much as Phyri liked the dark and gloomy, this wasn't a fate she could see the raven-haired poet accepting freely.

"I can confirm that," she added dryly, looking at Phyri perched on Eavan's shoulder. "Having had to put up with his refusing a wash when Eva was gone!" She would also not willingly admit that this situation had thoroughly amused her. Not one to be a very good liar, despite her attempts to conceal her thoughts, her lips tugged upward in an amused smirk.

  

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They were both enjoying this a little too much, Porphyria noted, as she glanced at them and peered down at the bird. The stubborn bird. Who probably smelled as well.

“I would kick you if I could,” Phryi threatened, shooting a warning look down at the diricawl although she imagined it would make no difference. She didn’t think actual birds understood her, whatever she did. She might’ve asked one of the girls to do the kicking on her behalf, but she didn’t think asking a pair of magizoologists to abuse their animals would help a great deal.

“You two needn’t sound so pleased, either,” she rebuked, digging her pathetic little wren-feet a little more securely into Eavan’s shoulder. “It didn’t look like I was the only one with a hanger-on tonight,” she declared, cocking her head darkly at Amelia and offhandedly plotting her escape from this blasted Bastien as she did.

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a sublime set by Lady! <3

"He'd poof, he's too quick for his own good." Eva chortled. She'd aimed to nudge him with her foot several times a day, but he always managed to avoid it. Little cretin. "He's not so bad, I've lived with him for almost two decades." Eva chuckled. Well, he hadn't been allowed to go to Ilvermorny with her, but her mum had cared for him then.

Draining her glass, Eva knew she should wait a while before she had another, if at all, but the pleasant buzz humming through her veins was at peak amusement- and it made her oblivious to any little talons digging into her shoulder. Not that it would have bothered her sober either.

She was distracted from her thoughts of champagne by the mention of Amelia's Mr. Fisk- whom Eva had yet to meet and now she was thoroughly intrigued. "Oh oh, Am is he here?" She wanted to get a good look at him.

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Eavan may have had enough of the beverages provided to them at this event, however the new subject matter saw Amelia seize a glass off an almost-too-far-away tray and immediately start nursing it as she averted her eyes. The flush in her cheeks was the betrayer, and her multicolored eyes flickered back to her friends.

They would not stop until they had the satisfaction of her answer...at least Evan wouldn't stop – Porphyria might out of sheer boredom. Merlin even in tiny animal form, her judgemental expression was palpable!

"Er-yes, he is..." Amelia glanced up from her glass to see his figure in the crowd. "I've just finished talking to him..." A smile tugged at her lips as she quickly turned her attention back to her friends. But not before taking off a morsel from a passing tray and holding it out to the little bird that was their friend. "Porphyria, have you tried the lemon tarts? They're delicious." She added, in a wildly transparent attempt to change the subject to something more neutral.

  

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He's not so bad, I've lived with him for almost two decades. That was not the most cheering angle from this point of view. Maybe she’d like him in two decades, then, if she were still a bloody wren.

But Amelia’s life was a blessed distraction from Porphyria’s problems, even just for a moment - and even her love life, which was going markedly well if her friend’s terrible evasion tactics were any sign to go by. “Can’t,” Phryi said - half mournful, half triumphant - at the proferred lemon tart, “it’ll get stuck in my beak.” It’d only get lodged up in the roof of it and then she’d be a wren who’d choked to death on a lemon tart, which was not exactly the legendary way she’d planned to go out. “Tell me who he is or I know just whose shoulder I’ll have to go perch on next,” she threatened, in her chirpiest tone.

Eavan seemed to already have a clue, it looked like, which gave Amelia no good excuse not to say. In truth, if Phyri wanted to do some digging her current form was not a bad one for a little sneaky reconnaissance. Amelia’s apparent new beau wouldn’t have the faintest clue.

Now that her terms had been laid out, she edged along Eavan’s shoulder to take a tiny nibble of the tart’s crust, prepared to tempt fate just a little.

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a sublime set by Lady! <3

"Ohhh yes do tell!" Between the champagne and being egged on by the fact that Phyri could certainly go find a new perch other than her own shoulder. "I think Porphyria is serious. I wouldn't try us- I've had just enough champagne to dull my shame senses." That was also true.

Eavan quirked another eyebrow at Amelia with the tarte thing and her expression clearly read really? "Come now, I want to hear all about this encounter with Mr. Fisk." Eva knew the basics, had pried them out of Amelia upon her return from Arizona, but she had yet to meet the infamous Mr. Fisk. Perhaps tonight would be the night that changed. "I'm perfectly capable of introducing myself after all."

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Her already pathetic attempt at distracting her friends had gone absolutely sideways. Even before Eva's response, Amelia wilted a bit, casting a glance at her friends that was both amused and suspicious. She wouldn't put it past Phryi to actually follow through with the threat. Her eyes widened a bit at Eva's thinly veiled threat too; she found herself slightly shocked, seeing as of the two of them, she figured Eva might attempt to defend her from Phyri.Obviously that wasn't the case, and Amelia was thoroughly outnumbered in this chat. Her eyes narrowed slightly and her lips pursed at the betrayal.

She had half a mind to transform and fly away (but not before at least taking Phyri with her so the bird/witch wouldn't be able to follow through).

Amelia took a breath and sighed heavily, giving in. She still couldn't help but let a small smile drift onto her face as she talked about him. "The tall one in blue and green waistcoat with the Venetian mask," she said under her breath, praying they wouldn't be too overheard (though that would be just her friends' plan, wouldn't it?). "His name is Konstantin Fisk, he's the assistant head of the DMLE....and the former Senior Undersecretary to Minister Urquart." she added on as an afterthought. She hoped this might be enough to placate both women, as she might just sink into the floor if they marched over and introduced themselves to him.

  

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If she could have grinned, she would have at Eavan’s remark about her shame senses. But together they had bullied Amelia into some answers, so Phyri tapped one of her wren-feet triumphantly and eyed the man in question.

Colours were a little tricky, from a bird’s eye view. Everything was dazzlingly bright: an entirely different spectrum. But never mind - Phyri knew which she meant - and she tilted her head to survey him more intently. A Fisk! Not her favourite Fisk by any rate (if she had been any sort of matchmaker, she might have tried to throw Amelia together with Arven, perhaps) but this Fisk seemed in amiable enough conversation with another of the guests right now, so he could be worse. Law Enforcement, though - sounded dull. Then again, given her past flame, that did seem Amelia’s type.

“Mmm,” she hummed in a low tone, intrigued by this Mr. Fisk but not yet wholly convinced. Teasing, or at least mostly teasing, Phyri added: “And how pompous is he, on a scale from one to Barnabas Skeeter?”

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The following 2 users Like Porphyria Dempsey's post:2 users Like Porphyria Dempsey's post
   Amelia Evans, Elsie Kirke

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a sublime set by Lady! <3

"Oh my, Amelia, what an upgrade!" Eva had tried to like Skeeter, but he'd been a most disagreeable person and certainly Mr. Fisk was much better than that! Even right down to his professional history was more impressive than Mr. Skeeter's had been.

She and Phyri must have been on the same page, because the bird's next comment had Eva laughing aloud. "No two people can be that pompous." The incredulity to her tone was something she used to hide, but it was in the past now and though she knew Amelia had genuinely had feelings for Mr. Skeeter, she didn't have to hide the distaste as much any longer.

"I should very much like to meet him some day- when I'm sober so I don't embarrass you."

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