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Day 1 [color=734e66]◈[/color] [color=7ea7d8]Time:[/color] Night [color=734e66]◈[/color] [color=7ea7d8]Weather:[/color] Moderate Rain [color=734e66]◈[/color][color=7ea7d8]Location:[/color] Main Ball Room [color=734e66]◈[/color] [color=7ea7d8]Participants:[/color] Arthur Everwood [@Jumbus] Petyr Nostrade (Mentioned) [@Aeolian][/center]
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[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2D7c8QJFpco&ab_channel=GrissiniProject]♫[/url]
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Upon entering the Ballroom, Arthur was enticed by the music immediately. He walked along the second floor in a soft waltz and took in the sight of the students in flight. Tonight, they were to dance among the stars themselves.

And to think Arthur was going to pass this up with the rest of the Willow Gang. Not that Monty made a particularly good case to avoid it anyway. When he began some pearl-clutching speech about keeping to the prestige of high-profile events, Arthur immediately made up his mind to disregard the order. 

He often found himself forgetting that much of the group had enough money to buy out his hometown if given the whim. Speeches like that brought him back to the same obvious truth. Many Willow gang members only cause trouble because they see themselves above the consequences. Wealth, power, prestige, almost all of them were born with it and use that fact to justify how they act. Although he was part of the gang, Arthur felt a wall of separation because of this fact.

It wasn’t to say he disliked the group. On the contrary, he would have never joined if there wasn't something in it for him. But he wondered if Monty had considered that Arthur wouldn't see any invite to those upper-crust dances.

Petyr Nostradé was the odd one out in this assessment. At first, Arthur had assumed he was like the others. He carried himself in a manner and discipline that radiated higher class society of some sort. On the contrary, Petyr is an orphan of common origins. One might think humble beginnings would provide some connection between the two. Yet that commonality had never formed into much. Petyr didn't wear his heart on his sleeve, and his lack of obvious motive to join made him feel like the most distant member of the group, at least to Arthur anyway.

Arthur’s train of thought was suddenly interrupted as he saw Mrs Grumble float out of her chair ahead of him. A look of concern was pretty clear on her face and she seemed to be taking caution in making her flight seem inconspicuous before she took off into the night sky. Arthur knew a quick and stealthy escape when he saw one.

[color=A6E3FF][i]She probably left the stove going.[/i][/color]

Almost instinctually, he quickly scanned the area for any other teachers and supervisors. But none could be found. It seemed the academy was putting their trust in Grumble to look after this thing, which was a humorous idea to Arthur. As much as he liked her, Grumble wouldn’t be the first person he would call if he were to supervise the ball.

As he got closer, the haphazard way she let her knitting equipment drop felt out of place. Grumble tended to be more particular about her chosen craft.

[color=A6E3FF][i]She must have really had the stove going[/i][/color] he thought dismissively.

Still, the only teacher looking after the ball had suddenly slipped into the night without a word to anyone. Certainly, this could mean trouble if the wrong kind of students were to take notice of that fact. Why, if her rocking chair of supervision were to appear empty, it would mean chaos for Minerva’s precious event. A good student couldn’t let that come to pass.

What the students needed right now was a symbol of authority and discipline to show them all that the event was under control. And it was a grand coincidence that a reputable member of the academy such as himself was here to fill those boots.

Leaning over the rails, Arthur gave a gesture resembling a music conductor toward the food table below. With a raise and flick of his hand, a group of select pastries danced to his commands. They flew up in a swirling line, tumbling ungracefully in the winding current that drew them higher and higher toward him.

Trusting in his ability to do the rest of the work, he leaned back again and fell into a lounging position on Grumble’s empty throne with his legs hanging off the side.

[color=A6E3FF]“One, two, three…”[/color] Arthur quipped to himself as the pastries fell into his lap one after the other. 

He furrowed his brow. There was supposed to be a fourth pastry just behind them. He quickly scanned to see where it ended up but got his query quickly answered as it landed squarely on his face. His abilities weren’t the well-oiled machine he liked to think they were.

Arthur chuckled as he cleaned his face and began digging into the snack. A few bites to eat and he would be in the perfect mood to dance.

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