23 April 1891 — Minister's Masquerade; French Garden Party

As she walked into the ballroom, Ro fidgeted absently with one of the rosettes on her dress. The broach that had been pinned to her dress felt an odd weight on her chest in addition to the mask that had affixed itself to her face. As she walked through into the ballroom, she couldn’t help but be rather self conscious of the fact that the brilliant silver that her sister had accidentally turned her hair had not faded back to its normal jet black color. Ro briefly wondered exactly how long it would take her co workers to notice her.

The theme of everyone’s arrival saw a warm summer breeze flutter through the air and Ro paused to lift her chin to the air and inhale. It smelled like the fresh summer grass and rippling clear water. She swore she could even hear birds chirping in the distance accompanied by some lovely trilling music.

Though the presentation was rather splendid, it all still felt foreign to her; being present at a ball. She seldom attended any and when she did, she always felt rather out of place. But this was luckily a Ministry affair; there was the added bonus of being able to ease her unfamiliarity of the environment with the company of her colleagues.

Speaking of whom, out of the corner of her eye, she caught the familiar figure of one of those colleagues; at least she thought it was. The way he walked certainly could be him, though there was only one way to find out. She approached him and gave him a quick tap on the shoulder. "Cartwright, is that you?" she whispered as if there was any reason to amongst the lively buzzing chatter that echoed throughout the room. "It's Rowan." As he turned, she braced herself for his reaction on the state of her bright silver hair.

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— Holden Cartwright / @"Elsie Beauregard" —
mask: 2nd row, far RH | dress

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   Elsie Kirke

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This was quite the to-do and Holden was already sort of over it. Sure, he liked a good social event here and there, but they were starting to pile up between Noble making sure he was at his sister's debut, and then of course Henri's debut and now his presence was more or less dictated for this evening at the Minister's shindig, he was going to need a break soon enough. This season was going to be a nightmare. Would it be so bad to get a case that put him undercover and he had to sit out for a little while? Work would be the most reasonable excuse.

It was still a little early in the evening for him to want to truly escape just yet. He'd taken a couple of turns on the dance floor before heading up the staircase for some refreshment. That hadn't lasted long either, as he knew the top of the hour was due to change the theme and he wasn't entirely sure what was going to happen next so he'd turned to head back down, when the tap came on his shoulder.

"Yaxley?" He looked the lady up and down, but never in a million years would have guessed that was who stood before him.

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She winced as his voice told her his reaction — while appropriate since her hair was normally the exact opposite — warranted an explanation. Ro wondered how often she would have to repeat this tonight. "Yes, yes," she said in an attempt to keep the impatience from her voice. Earlier in the evening, Rowan had refused to chide Maisie because of her mistake, however, now that she realized she might go hoarse by the night was over in attempts to explain her appearance, Rowan was reevaluating her decision.

"My sister had a mishap with a hair spell and now I'm not entirely sure when it'll go back to normal." Rowan pursed her lips, glancing quickly at him then averting her gaze back to the ballroom and hoping the spectacle wouldn't last too long. "Please don't tell me it looks bad." The request came out slightly strained; though she didn't like to think herself vain, she figured she harbored as many insecurities as the next young woman her age.

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Holden had too many sisters to know better than to say anything about a woman's appearance that could be anything but positive. "Nah, not bad. Just different, I didn't really recognize you." He wouldn't have guessed it was her if he had to. "The masks don't help either." He added for good measure.

"I'll never understand the things you ladies do to get ready for these events. Need a drink?" If he had to primp and dress up the way the women did, he'd need one. "You could be anyone tonight, make some bad decisions and don't have to deal with the consequences." Very little stopped him from becoming a bad influence.

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Currently goes by Hudson Atwater, yay amnesia caused by obliviation!

I'm in love with this set by MJ

Rowan sighed. Well, at least if she did something comically embarrassing tonight, no one would attribute it to her unless they knew she was a silver-haired figure in the crowd. Her expression twitched in annoyance at his comment. ”This wasn’t my doing, it was my sister,” she said, as if that would offer her any sort of reprieve from his jab. But fact of the matter was that she did need a drink and it appeared he was a way she would get one.

She heaved a sigh and headed towards the beverage counter anyways. ”Either way, the risk of being caught is winning out.” she replied dryly. ”I couldn’t afford to handle the consequences.” Neither could her reputation if she wanted to be in good standing with the Ministry.

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Holden had been joking... mostly. He knew how seriously the ladies took their reputations, especially those with a history to theirs already. "Ah, well, in another life." He agreed with a chuckle. Plus their jobs did dictate a level of propriety.

"What was the original goal?" He was curious about the hair, it was quite spectacular, even if it was unexpected. Holden had always found Yaxley to be rather pretty in an unconventional way, and had said as much in the past, thanks to his lack of a filter, but still, the things women did for beauty.

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Currently goes by Hudson Atwater, yay amnesia caused by obliviation!

I'm in love with this set by MJ

As they reached the counter, Rowan's hand came up and reflexively touched the silver curls. With another sigh, she cast Cartwright a pained look . "My sister, Maisie. She wanted to cast a simple spell to make my hair a bit shinier, and instead of that, I ended up looking like someone spilled a tub of silver ink on it." While it wasn't the most horrid thing in the world that Maisie had accidentally done, she wasn't enthusiastic about keeping it. Her sister had done far worse with far less to go off of, and Rowan liked to at least include Maisie in things to lift her spirits. Balls like this weren't quite possible for her to attend. Any sign of the sickness she had, and she would have to be sent home with no indication of how long it would take her to recover.

"Honestly, I think she would make a good hairdresser if all of her feats weren't by accident." Rowan added in defense of Maisie. "It's not as if she's made me sprout antlers."

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"Antlers would certainly be worse and I could think of worse nights than a masquerade for it to happen, at least?" It wasn't her debut, or anyone else's for that matter, and it was hard to wonder what kind of commotion it would cause tonight. "For the record, it still sort of suits you." It was sort ethereal with the mask and the setting.

"Hair changes aside, been enjoying yourself?" The anonymity of the evening was sort of fun, but Holden tended to grow tired of these sorts of things after an hour or so and therefore needed something else to occupy his time. Fortunately a familiar face would do the trick to help pass the time.

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Currently goes by Hudson Atwater, yay amnesia caused by obliviation!

I'm in love with this set by MJ

Rowan let out a scoff. Antlers, large buck teeth, gills for breathing or any other malformation of any sort would have been worse. And after a while, Maisie had declared it fine for her to attend the ball without worry none of the above would suddenly sprout on her person. But even so, Rowan couldn't help but absentmindedly brushing a finger through her hair where antlers would likely sprout should they decide to; just in case.

Rowan smiled gratefully, thankful once again to be having this conversation with a co-worker as opposed to someone else. With the alterations to her dress, she was more unaccustomed to being pinned up in a tight-laced corset. Wincing, she glanced toward the beverages. "I suppose so, though I'm not really used to this sort of scene." she replied, glancing down at the broach pinned to her dress. "Odd little trinkets, aren't they?"

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"You're not really missing much," Holden assured her with a shrug. He was, most unfortunately quite used to them and therefore a little too cavalier about the whole thing. Or maybe it was jaded, as he was supposed to be the one who was able to enjoy them without having to worry. Supposed to. Not anymore, not as the heir he never wanted to be.

Looking down at the pin on his lapel, Holden wasn't sure what it was for either, but he assumed it would have some kind of purpose. "Who knows what the next hour will bring," He was pretty sure the theme was supposed to change at the top of the hour and therefore it would likely be useful later. "And it's been alright, at least it's not a straightforward regular kind of fete, those can get tedious after a while." At least this one had some flair to it and would be interesting as the night progressed.

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Currently goes by Hudson Atwater, yay amnesia caused by obliviation!

I'm in love with this set by MJ

His reply made her deflate somewhat in disappointment. Perhaps she'd been hoping that each and every ball in Society was decked to the ceiling with glittering opulence. At least that would explain the amount of fun that people seemed to have when she walked past one at the end of the night on her way home.

Perhaps that was a comfort as opposed to a disappointment. If he was right that she wasn't missing much, then perhaps her co-workers exaggerated when they said they'd had so much fun at so-and-so's ball the night before. "What a relief," She laughed, her response in direct contrast to her inner thoughts. "Should I take that to mean you don't plan on being surprised when fireworks start exploding inside and turn into turtledoves, or when the water fountain turns into a shower of champagne?" Really either of those options would be a sight to behold.

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"I feel like not much surprises me these days." Henri was his sister after all. Odd magical occurrences had followed her for most of her life. Not to mention he regularly saw some weird things on the job. Real weird. "Would be different though." That was the crutch of it really, at least it was interesting.

"Guess we'll just have to stick around long enough to find out. What shall we do with our time then?" He quirked an eyebrow at her. If she wasn't used to these kinds of things, certainly she would stay a while to see. Holden certainly didn't mind her company. It wasn't as if he was here for any seriousness anyway. This was just fun for a few more years until he was old enough to think about actually getting married. If he bothered. Though he supposed he would have to. His mother would likely pester him to death if he didn't.

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Currently goes by Hudson Atwater, yay amnesia caused by obliviation!

I'm in love with this set by MJ

No indeed, he wouldn't be surprised. But then again he was also an Auror - they were made of firmer stuff than most, Rowan had to figure. Given what they went through and how often Rowan had heard of escapades of Aurors, perhaps an explosion of champagne fountains wouldn't really surprise them, even at first sight. She gave a contented sigh, looking around.

The whirling of people dancing caught her eye and she found herself mesmerized by the pattern the couples traced along the floor. The swirl of the womens' dresses swirled in time with the music and a grin twitched at Rowan's lips. She glanced at Cartwright. "Let's dance." Her gaze flicked back to the couples again.

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