Float Like A Butterfly

[Ophelia Dippet]

If Ophelia Dippet wasn't featured in one of those Witch Weekly fashion articles soon, she might murder someone. Well, not really--she wasn't crazy--but it had become, essentially, her sole ambition in life over the past few weeks as she had grown more and more invested in her masquerade costume. She had spared no expense--much to poor Mr. Dippet's chagrin--and she'd devoted countless hours throughout the entire month to not only designing it, but actually doing much of the sewing and spellwork involved on her own, with only minimal help from the maid, Perenia (who, Ophelia was convinced, was messing things up, anyway, when she did help).

The thing she'd done the least work on, was, of course, the dress, because it would have been monstrously difficult for an amateur seamstress to have done a dress from scratch. She had taken one of her black mourning dresses, from after her father had died, and used an advanced color-changing charm on it instead, so that the smooth, elegant fabric faded like a sunset from black at her bust down to a dreamy blue at the hem. It was a long dress, with draped and open sleeves, and it served very well as the base, she'd decided, of her butterfly. The mask had been the next task; she'd found a blue mask of about the same color as the bottom of her gown, then added elaborate silver and black "wings" out on either side, created out of twisting, swirling metal and magically stiffened fabric, and reminiscent, she hoped, of butterfly wings.

Of course, her wings were the masterpiece of her night; semi-translucent and nearly glowing an eerie blue, they stretched out for nearly a foot and a half behind her shoulders, and stretched from the top of her head down to the top of her bustle. She'd worn make-up, too--though she knew generally it wasn't considered classy or ladylike, she'd always been vaguely fascinated with it, and it ever there was an occasion for such a thing, this seemed like it! Still, she'd gone rather minimalist, and what she had worn was very obviously a part of her costume; her lips were navy-blue, which accentuated the paleness of her face, and she'd used charcoal to black out the skin which was visible through her mask around her eyes, so that it looked as though the mask went right up to the edge. She also thought it made her eyes look all the more lovely, but that was just her opinion.

Of course, as much as she'd enjoyed putting the costume together, she now needed to be at the ball and be social long enough to properly show it off. That was challenging, since she'd decided she was going to end up a spinster, and therefore there wasn't any use in pining after men for her dance card all night. On the other hand--this was a masquerade! She ought to be able to dance with anyone, and have a good time--married or single, rich or poor--without consequence.

Boldly, then, she approached the first gentleman she could find with a worthy costume--she didn't just want to dance with some bloke who'd thrown on a bland mask over his normal suit and called it a day--with a fluttering step that befitted her costume. "Good evening, sir," she greeted flirtatiously.

  

[Quincey Honeyduke]

Quin sincerely wished Emery could see him now. He thought Eliza was joking when she'd suggested he go as a squirrel, but once Quin had an idea, he ran with it, tail and everything. The jacket of his coat was covered in soft fir and his mask sported ears and well, the tail of his coat was actually that- a squirrel's tail.

Who else would even do that?

Rather proud of himself, at least to the dedication to the idea, Quin had found himself a glass of punch and quickly lost it chatting with an old classmate. Conversation floated from business to family and by now Quin was an expert at dodging the marriage question. His mates would probably know better by now, but considering he hadn't seen this guy in a while, he could get away with it.

The bloke excused himself to find his wife and Quin stretched his back a little, scanning the crowd subconsciously for a familiar face- which was silly, considering most people were wearing masks that covered at least half their faces. He didn't have much time to look however as a bold, blue, butterfly approached him. "Good evening miss." He countered jovially, a grin curling his corners of his lips easily.

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   Ophelia Dippet

[Ophelia Dippet]

Well, she'd been looking for an ornate costume, and she'd certainly found it. She'd started over in his direction because she'd seen the fur-covered jacket, and without paying too close attention to the detail of the mask, she'd assumed he was a wolf or a bear, or some other kind of fierce predatory animal. That was before the tail had come into view. Big and bushy and gloriously gravity-defying, it curled out behind him just the way that a squirrel's would. Which certainly raised some interesting logistical questions--what it was made out of, how it was holding its shape, among others--but was by far less fearsome than what she'd originally pictured when she saw the fur.

"Your costume is an utter delight," she said, not insincerely, though she couldn't help the playful smile that appeared on her face. What on earth had possessed him to dress as a squirrel? Where had the idea come from? There was certainly nothing else that he could have been. Ophelia was convinced now that she'd seen the whole costume; it was undoubtedly a squirrel. "This might be presumptuous, but forgive my curiosity--is the tail an enchantment, or did someone actually make it?" she asked, taking a step closer to him--perhaps half a step closer than might normally be socially acceptable. Not that anyone would be scandalized by the sight of it, by any means, but she had, unintentionally, encroached a bit on his personal bubble.

"What is it made out of?" she asked, reaching out a hand to touch it before realizing that that would definitely be crossing a line and stopping herself, her hand hovering mid-air for a moment before she awkwardly crossed her hands in front of her, trying to downplay the instinct. "It looks... soft," she said, flushing slightly.

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   Elsie Beauregard

[Quincey Honeyduke]

Quin took the compliment on his costume at face value; he was too proud of it to really do anything but. "It's a combination of both. I believe my manager pieced together some rabbit fur and then enchanted it." Really, Eliza was the mastermind behind all of this; Quin was creative, but she was downright intuitive, not to mention ingenious. Somehow though, Quin thought she just wanted to see him make an utter fool out of himself, which was highly likely. He did that on a daily basis though, so this really would be no different.

"I don't have any control over it, though that would be hilarious," Quin mused aloud. "I think we just charmed it to twitch every now and then like a normal squirrel's would.  They really were twitchy little creatures. After coming up with the idea, Quin had spent half an afternoon watching the little buggers in the park just for inspiration. It had been a lot of fun actually.

Quin chuckled. "It is, you wouldn't be the first one to to ah, pet it? That sounds horribly improper, but like I said, it's just a prop." It wasn't like it was actually his tail. And several students had managed to get a hold of it already, so he wasn't really phased all that much.

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   Ophelia Dippet

[Ophelia Dippet]

The last comment by him was more than enough of an invitation for Ophelia. "Oh, can I? You won't mind?" she said, but the questions were clearly just for show, because she didn't wait for his response before reaching out to experimentally touch the top of the tail. It twitched away from her hand, which caused her to pull her hand back in surprise, a smile of childlike wonder spreading across her face. She reached out again, this time quicker and more purposefully, and this time she was able to get her fingers into the soft rabbit's fur. It was quite a delightful sensation, but Ophelia was very aware of what a strange picture they must have made, her standing off to the side of some strange man and petting his tail--and this thought couldn't help but make her giggle.

"It's fantastic," she said, looking back at the man himself. It seemed rude to just stare at his tail the whole time they were talking. Ophelia giggled again. It was a good thing she'd decided to be a spinster, because this entire conversation did sound rather improper, even in her head. "But you must have spent the entire night dancing. I can't imagine it's comfortable to try and sit on it," she said, from something like experience--she'd been expecting to spend her entire night dancing and so she hadn't taken into account how difficult it would be to sit with her wings spread out behind her. It was possible, she'd discovered, but a bit awkward; she had to perch on the edge of her seat and angle her wings out crookedly off to one side. Really, it was much more flattering if she just flitted around the room on her feet. Hopefully she wouldn't get too tired!

"And it would be a shame, anyway, to hide your tail at one of the tables," she pointed out with a mischievous smile.

  

[Quincey Honeyduke]

Quin chuckled when the tail acted of its own accord, though it was also partially at the wonder on the young woman's face when she finally got a hold of it. Perhaps he should wear a tail all of the time, it really was a good ice breaker for social situations. Not that Quin needed one really, he was a pretty social guy, just didn't have a ton of opportunities to be so outside of work.

"I'll pass the compliment off to my manager, she was the one to make it all happen. I feel like she just wanted to watch me make a fool of myself, but so far so good." He laughed again, voicing his previous thoughts of Eliza's motivation to help him with the costume. "Truthfully, I don't think I've actually tried. I'm not one to spend a lot of time sitting." In fact, sitting for too long made him downright antsy. Mostly he'd been mingling, catching up briefly with his friends, before taking a turn or two on the dance floor. He had by no means spent all evening out there, but he wasn't a terrible dancer.

"I can't imagine those," He gestured to her wings. "Can't make it easy either. They are spectacular though." Quin had yet to be disappointed in the costumes this evening!

  

[Ophelia Dippet]

One of the wonderful things about his costume was that no one else had come as a squirrel--at least, no one that Ophelia had seen yet--and so it had a very unique charm, a sort of unexpected delight, which was only enhanced by the marvelous craftsmanship of his tail. Her costume, by comparison, was very well executed but nowhere near as original. She'd seen one or two other butterflies at the event so far (likely, she thought, owing to the fact that it was so easy to turn a masquerade mask into a butterfly wing), though she was by far the best butterfly present, at least in her own estimation. She at least had the satisfaction of coming out on top of a group, which was really the whole point of being a debutante.

Ophelia was really good at being a debutante, she reflected--at least at doing all of the things that people associated with debutantes. Why on earth had it never landed her a man?

Well, nevermind that. She was over the lack of man in her life--particularly when she had such a delightful squirrel to converse with!

"Well, that's where you're wrong, sir," Ophelia said with a mischievous smile. "I'm as graceful as a butterfly. Everything's easy for me," she said, smiling so wide she had to close her eyes and tilting her head to one side, a perfect parody of someone trying to look adorable. She couldn't hold the facade long, though, before she dissolved into giggles instead.

"Now that I've told you an awful lie, you'll have to save me from myself by asking me to dance," she teased. "Otherwise I'll have to go find a table somewhere and you'll see me trying to arrange myself on a chair in a horribly un-butterfly-like fashion."

  

[Quincey Honeyduke]

Worrying for a quick moment that he'd somehow managed to offend the young brunette before him, Quin chuckled when she admitted that she may not have been entirely truthful. "Well if that is the only way to rectify the situation," Quin began, thoroughly amused, though he couldn't quite commit without warning her first. "I have to admit however, I am not the most graceful of creatures myself. I would hate to besmirch your record this evening."

Really, he could dance, with moderate success, but he tended to let anyone brave enough to suggest a spin on the dance floor to make a completely informed decision before taking the chance. In all honesty, he was more likely to fumble than to step on anyone, but with him, it was anyone's guess.

"I am not opposed at all, but I would like you to make an informed decision, shall we dance?" He swept into a small bow with a wide flourish and gestured toward the dance floor.

  

[Ophelia Dippet]

Ophelia was worried at first that he was going to turn her down, which would have been quite a disappointment after she'd been so confident and bold! She wouldn't have asked him to dance (or rather, told him that they would have to dance) unless she'd been fairly confident that he would have agreed, and it would be quite a blow to her ego if he didn't. Luckily, he did end up asking her--and with such a dramatic flourish that she couldn't help but giggle with delight. This was much better than her past interactions trying to get men to dance with her--now that she'd decided she didn't care, all the pressure was off and she was free to have delightfully silly moments like this.

"My dear Mr. Squirrel, I have enough grace for the both of us," she told him confidently, reaching out to take his hand and allowing him to lead her towards the dance floor. She was hoping that she could make good on her boast with a dance she was intimately familiar with (which was likely, given all the dancing lessons they'd had at the Pendergast School), but even if she did something awful like step on his foot, she knew that it wouldn't be a big deal, because tonight didn't matter the way that nights in her early season had mattered. Now she was just having fun!

It occurred to her, as 'Mr. Squirrel' led them to the dance area, that she actually didn't know his name. That was horribly uncouth, but then, so was approaching a man she'd never been introduced to before and more or less asserting that he'd have to dance with her, and he didn't seem to have minded that much. He'd mentioned a manager, she recalled, so that was a hint. What sort of people had managers? Quidditch players! Ophelia didn't know much about the world of professional Quidditch, but she assumed the teams had managers who told them what to do.

Professional Quidditch player may not have been the most respected or lucrative profession, but they did tend to be rather handsome--and from what she could see of this mystery man, he fit that description well enough. Even through the costume it was obvious he had a good build. Definitely a Quidditch player, she decided. She almost wanted to ask his name so that she could confirm her hypothesis, but she'd waited so long that she thought now it might be in poor taste. Wasn't half the fun of a masquerade that people didn't know who you were, anyway?

They reached the dance floor right as a new song was about to begin. Smiling at their excellent timing, Ophelia moved in front of him and placed a hand lightly on his shoulder, holding out her other so that he could take it and lead. "I'm going to make you look so positively dashing during this dance that you'll be able to have your pick of partners for the next one," she teasingly promised.

  

[Quincey Honeyduke]

It seemed that his new acquaintance was brave enough to attempt a dance and Quin would do his best to not make a fool out of himself. Or her. That wouldn't be very gentlemanly of him after all. As they made their way through the crowd Quin was trying to pick out the music and see if he even knew the steps, but he wasn't entirely sure that he did... To his good fortune however, their entry onto the dance floor found them at the beginning of a new dance and ah, one Quin remembered... most of the steps to. Frankly he was a terrible lead and so he hoped that the young miss was more up to date on her steps than he was.

Well here went nothing! "I shall hold you to that, though you must be a miracle worker if you can stir up that kind of interest." Not that Quin was looking or even noticed if ladies were interested, but then again, this was a masquerade, people didn't know it was him! That probably worked in his favor, now that he thought about it.

More lackadaisical in leading than he probably should have been, Quin was admittedly, at least paying attention to the beat and trying actively avoid stepping on his partner. He had a fair few missteps and smiled a bit sheepishly each time, trying not to let it throw him off. What he hadn't realized would make matters worse was the damn tail! He kept accidentally bumping into people with it, though it didn't really throw him off, he could tell it wasn't exactly doing him any favors either! "Must be why I've never seen a dancing squirrel." He chuckled a yet another couple threw him a glare.  

  

[Ophelia Dippet]

He hadn't lied about being--well, he wasn't exactly a bad dancer, but he did seem a bit out of practice. A bad dancer, in Ophelia's opinion, would be someone who didn't have enough of a sense of the rhythm in the music to even make the steps at the right intervals. Her partner was moving at the appropriate times, just not always in the right directions. She, on the other hand, knew the steps well (finishing school had to be good for something), and was even doing a pretty passable job of moving to cover his mistakes. With someone else it might have been annoying, having to put in the extra work to make it look to a casual observer as though they weren't out of step, but every time he made a mistake he gave such an endearingly self-conscious smile that Ophelia couldn't possibly be irritated.

"They're just jealous," she said, returning the glaring couples' look with one of haughty disdain--just for a brief moment before she returned her attention to Mr. Squirrel. "Because their costumes are so obviously lackluster compared to ours. Honestly, a knight and a princess--how unoriginal!" she said, in relation to the latest couples' costumes. The knight wasn't a poor idea for a costume, but the man had opted for being able to move freely over being authentic, so the only actual armor involved was on his chest and lower arms, and the rest was just a grey suit. Honestly!

"Though I suppose they make a more... traditional couple than a butterfly and a squirrel," she teased with a smile.

  

[Quincey Honeyduke]

Quin laughed in earnest at her evaluation of the other couple he'd bumped into. Surely they were miffed at being interrupted, but frankly he liked Miss Butterfly's explanation better. "Traditional is over rated in my opinion. There's something to be said about the whimsy of little woodland creatures." Quin was all about things being whimsical. One step into his shop would confirm that.

Returning his focus to the steps of the dance, Quin found himself doing a little better as the song continued, though he suspected by the time he was passable, it would be over. Perhaps all he'd needed was a little extra practice. "I daresay you're improving my ability with each step." Quin appraised- though he wouldn't go so far as to say he was dancing well he was at least not stepping on her!

"Perhaps I shall have to give this a go or two more this evening." He mused aloud, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  

[Ophelia Dippet]

"You must," she agreed with a nod. "I told you, after this dance you'd be so graceful you could have your pick of partners, didn't I? Well, you wouldn't want all my hard work to go to waste," she teased. She liked the idea that he was improving due to her involvement, though really she didn't feel as though she was doing much beyond moving to complement him, even if the steps were just slightly off. Ophelia was undoubtedly making him look a little better, as best she could, but actually improving his dancing ability? That was a stretch. That being said, he did seem to be improving, and she was more than happy to take credit for it, if he was willing to give it to her.

"You could even come find me for another dance, if you wanted," she offered coyly. "By the end of two dances I'm sure we'd have turned you into a regular ballerina," she teased. "Though I wouldn't recommend a career in the ballet. I don't think it pays well, and outside of Russia I don't think it's very prestigious." Being a Quidditch player wasn't exactly being the Minister of Magic, or anything, but at least Quidditch players were better than common entertainers in the eyes of society, like dancers and actors.

  

[Quincey Honeyduke]

"Now that would have been a costume, picture me, a ballerina." Quin laughed again. As social of a character as he could be, sometimes he forgot just how much fun these kind of events could actually be, if he allowed them to be. A dance here, some harmless chit chat, nothing too in depth, enough to keep it interesting. It wasn't so hard. "Then I would be me giving away dance lessons." Which would have proved nothing short of disastrous.

"I don't think I'll be pushing my luck however, I should probably quit while I'm ahead. What would happen when I accidentally knock over a tray of food because I've gotten cocky?" It wouldn't be the first time unfortunately, but Quin still laughed about it to this day. It happened more often than he would care to admit, it's why he'd charmed the broom of the shop to sweep for itself.  Otherwise he would spend half the day sweeping up the messes he or somebody else made in the shop.

As the song slowed and the last few bars played out, Quin had at least made it through the dance without stepping on anyone; bumping into the stuffy couple nearby did not count, frankly they were just asking for it with their lack of creativity in costume. "Well, I do suppose thanks are in order for the lovely dance," Quin gave a bow. "I do hope my rusty skills did not cause too much anxiety." He added with an impish grin.

  

[Ophelia Dippet]

Ophelia smiled brightly as the dance ended. "Not at all, Mister Squirrel," she said with a coy smile, and a slight curtsey. "If you do end up knocking over a tray later tonight, blame it on your tail and not on my dancing lesson, won't you?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

OOC: Wrapped?