My Last Breath

[Terpsichore Rosier]

It was something different. This was the notion she had clung to as she left the solitude of her brother’s study, donned an impossible dress—bodice teeming with live vines and the occasional bloom—and joined much of her family at the Jubilation gala.  Thus far, it was not living up to expectations; as far as Cora was concerned, it was a dinner party on a boat with lower standards for company.

The ship itself, she could acknowledge, was quite impressive, and the witch found herself fleeing the noisy, crowded dining room in favor of the breezy deck. To the one side—starboard, was it called?—she could see the lights of the city, to the other, the expanse of water across which lay other nations, other people. Were they as easily tired as social functions as she was, Cora wondered? The air in particular was a boon to her; with her corset so tightly laced, she was finding it difficult indeed to find her breath.

So difficult, in fact, that Terpsichore Rosier found her vision growing hazy indeed before turning entirely black as the debutante fainted and toppled right over the railing.

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   Souri Avninder

[Ophelia Dippet]

Ophelia had had enough of the fresh air on the forecastle of the ship. The wind was definitely exhilarating, but it was starting to muss with her hair in a way that Ophelia suspected might be utterly unrecoverable. She had spent so long making sure her hair was perfect--and by that she meant that she'd forced Perenia to redo it several times before she was satisfied--and now her curls were scattered about in the most alarming way. As she moved under the cover of the little walkway between the bulkheads and the lifelines, she removed her hat--the little tophat with the live octopus that she was so proud of--and reached up a hand to assess the damage.

A girl walked out in front of her, and Ophelia had to stop to envy admire her dress. Wriggling vines, why hadn't she thought of that? It wasn't exactly in keeping with the theme, but it was certainly eye-catching, and attention was the whole point of dressing up for events like this. Ophelia couldn't help but frown at her as she passed, though she was really just angry at whomever had designed the dress, and at herself for not having thought of it first--but much to her surprise, the woman only walked a few feet past her before she fainted, tumbling right over the side of the lifelines.

Ophelia screamed. With her hat still in her hands and with no regard for her poor curls, she ran to the side and leaned over, trying to see the poor girl's body in the dark waves below, and still screaming. Turning to the closest person she could, who was several feet away, she gesticulated wildly towards the water, "She, she fell! HELP!" she cried. As she waved her hand over the side of the ship, the wind swelled, catching her octopus-hat out of her hand and blowing it straight into the face of the nearest downwind passenger.

Ophelia couldn't bear to look; she just turned away from the direction that her hat had flown and screamed some more.

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   Jasper Pippin, Savino Zabini

[Jasper Pippin]

Generally, Jasper had little patience for galas, but the unique theme of this one had drawn him in. He'd never seen a cruise ship, never mind one as grand as this one was promised to be. Besides the aesthetics of the affair, Jasper was ever curious about the goings on outside of England's borders. The crewmen were likely to be amenable to entertaining questions about their voyages. If not that, then he was very secretly hoping that they'd be interested in less wholesome activities. His sudden acquisition of a daughter hadn't been particularly conducive to illicit dalliances of any kind and, well, Jasper was only a man. He had needs which required filling and he'd always been fond of sailors.

After spending a decent amount of time being appropriately awed by the ship and all its trappings, he'd started putting out feelers for a man who shared his tastes. It was a very delicate affair, especially in a venue as public as this one, but it wasn't impossible and Jasper was well practiced. After some misses, he'd found a member of the crew who said he was Argentinian and had the accent to prove it. Jasper was immediately charmed by him and the man seemed to feel the same, if his subtle flirtations were anything to go by. They were involved in a clever exchange, one laden with double meaning to hide their true motives. It would sound perfectly innocent to passersby, but both of them knew very well they weren't just talking about quidditch strategies.

They were beginning to negotiate positions when Jasper heard an ungodly shriek from a woman near him. It was clear from her words that someone had gone overboard and he couldn't very well just stand there doing nothing about it. An Auror's work was never done. With a frustrated sigh, he shrugged off his suit jacket and hustled over to the side where the woman had fallen. "Miss," he began, addressing the screamer as he undid his waistcoat and searched the water for the other woman. "I implore you to save your breath for something else. Everything will be fine." 

Down to his dress shirt and trousers, Jasper decided it was best not to waste any more time. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and dove. 

The sting of the water and the shock of the temperature change upon entry stoked his adrenaline, pushing him to swim fast and hard until the woman was in his sights. Jasper reached to wrap an arm around her waist, holding her securely and pulling her up above the waves. Swimming back to the dock weighed down by another person took significant effort, but Jasper was fit enough to manage it. He heaved the woman up onto it before pulling himself up out of the water. Merlin, he hoped she wasn't already dead. That would put a definite damper on his evening and the gala at large. 

(let me know if this is okay!)

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   Terpsichore Rosier

[Ophelia Dippet]

The man appeared as if out of thin air, though of course in reality he hadn't ever been very far away. It was just that he had been talking to someone who was definitely the crew, and Ophelia tended to glaze over people whom she assumed were servants. It was impossible to glaze over him when he started stripping right in front of her, though, and Ophelia found herself gasping in surprise--which gave the man his window to tell her, quite politely, to stop screaming.

"What are you going to--?" she began, but had no time even to finish the question before he'd gone right over the side of the ship as well. She couldn't help but scream again, in surprise--but this time only briefly, because that entire thing had seemed very intentional, and he probably wasn't going to die.

Leaning far over the side to watch him swim, Ophelia almost wished that she were the fainting type. She'd had a few instances, of course, where she'd come up short of breath and swooned, but she'd never had anything quite so dramatic happen, and she'd certainly never been rescued from the edge of death by a strapping young gentleman! Then again, he had been conversing with the servants, so he probably wasn't as much of a catch as he at first appeared.

Unsure what else to do with herself, Ophelia walked over to the person whom had just been hit in the face with her hat, and was now holding it in both hands as if it might bite them. Wordlessly, and still pale from the fright of having watched someone fall overboard, she took the octopus top hat back and placed it on her head, then went back to the rail to see what had become of the young woman and her rescuer.

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   Souri Avninder, Terpsichore Rosier

[Terpsichore Rosier]

Hitting the cold water was a shock to her system that lurched Terpsichore into consciousness long enough to realize she was in the water, the layers upon layers of fabric she wore quickly growing sodden and weighing her down until the last thing Cora experienced before blackness overcame her once again was the unpleasant sensation of choking on seawater.