welcome to chimera!

[Rudolf Brand]

Rudolf Brand wasn't a bad date so much as he was cyclically inattentive. His genuinely friendly nature led him to be social and outgoing, but being self-absorbed meant his focus tended to go back to himself after a certain period of time. So although he had good intentions, he was not consistently conscientious about his role - sure, his breeding had ingrained social courtesy at every corner (chairs were duly pulled and doors duly held), but his mind wandered and his intent strayed. He was always finding a new acquaintance to blather to or else reciting a story about himself; it was debatable whether his otherwise chivalrous behavior compensated for these lapses.

These habits did not fail him presently at the Slug Club dinner. Having spoken to Slughorn nearly as much as he had spoken to Roberta (the professor's praise was too skilled not to elicit several stories), he had completely missed the drama ongoing at the further end of the table. Instead, he was caught rather off guard when Slughorn broke them off into groups, having noticed only the surroundings that immediately surrounded him.

"Hmm, usually we sit longer," he commented to Bobbie, as he rose to pull out her chair. "Not that I'm complaining - it's good to stretch out my legs. It's so stuffy sitting in just one place that long, isn't it?"

It was for Rudolf, in any case, and he believed whatever applied to him applied to everyone else. He caught sight of the empty goblets. "Care for a refill?" he offered pleasantly.

[Roberta Weasley]

For Slughorn’s party, Bobbie had been a little more attentive than usual: leaving her rag curls in longer (though tugging them out too roughly) and charming the wrinkles out of her old dress robes. The robes were distinctly on the shabby side, though carefully repaired by Bobbie’s patient handiwork. She didn’t look sleek, but she looked dressed up. And sleek probably wouldn’t have suited Roberta Weasley anyhow.

The party itself was progressing rather fast. While Rudolf spoke excitedly to Slughorn, Roberta’s eyes were glued on the trouble at the far end of the tables. Both Rudolf and the Professor paid her little attention, and the Ravenclaw on her other side was very busy with her own date, and so Roberta was, despite the ruckus, finding the evening a quiet one.

It was not quite what she had expected, but Bobbie had a patient streak, and she wasn’t prone to gloominess.

That said, she had no objections to the party being split up, or to her date turning back to her. She smiled brightly at Rudolf as she stood, remembering as an afterthought to grab her now-empty glass from the table. “I think there was a bit of business with those Slytherins,” she remarked, phrasing the information casually so as not to point out that he had managed to miss the most eventful part of the evening, “Yes, it’s good to be up,” she agreed, though it wasn’t exactly the thing she was grateful for.

She glanced at her cup and then nodded, “Thanks. The refreshments are brilliant here.”

[Rudolf Brand]

Rudolf had been, of course, completely oblivious to the argument on the opposite end of the table. The way he paid attention was proportional to distance - the further away from himself, the less he attempted to make it out. The seating arranged had occasioned him to sit far from the conflict; as a result, he had not an inkling that anything had happened outside of the space he occupied. Therefore, it was with some surprise that he looked over to the small group of Slytherins mentioned.

"Bit of business?" he inquired after her, somewhat curious. His general prejudice toward that house made him at least slightly interested, for he was always looking for confirmation of his beliefs. "Doesn't surprise me - they're always a troublesome group."

He accepted her goblet with a smile, adding, "I'll be right back."

With both glasses in hand, then, he proceeded toward the refreshments to refill them. He had counted on it being the work of a minute or two, and certainly was not calculating on making her wait - nonetheless, he was deterred by the chatter of acquaintances for some time, which put out of his mind his original objective. Only after the minute hand had advanced several notches did he finally return, both glasses brimming.

"Sorry, got distracted," he said, as he handed her back her glass. "What were you saying? Something about Slytherins, right?"

[Roberta Weasley]

A little thrown by his completely oblivious attitude, Roberta nodded. “Oh, an argument or something.” Roberta was not terribly easy to annoy. Rudolf’s surprise struck her as endearing rather than annoying and she almost laughed – kindly – except that she knew he wouldn’t appreciate it. Instead she shrugged. “It looks like we’re glad not to have been part of it.”

Just as she turned to return his smile, he took her cup from her and moved away into the crowd. Bobbie smiled at the back of his head instead, crossing her arms inelegantly over her chest.

And then he didn’t come back.

Roberta could see through the groups of other students now and then, Rudolf’s brown hair bobbing by the refreshment table, a whole room away. She was capable of patience, but she couldn’t help feel the minutes went rather long. Bobbie had carefully tied a purple ribbon on the side of her head, which drooped just slightly and looked a little too young for her. She fiddled with it absently, tugging the ends as she waited and twirling them so that they hung even less evenly.

When he finally returned, Roberta looked noticeably relieved, accepting the cups and thanking him, brightening, once again.. She didn’t generally let things get to her and she didn’t entirely mind waiting, but she generally preferred things a little more…fun than they were going. Still, she didn’t sound particularly accusatory when she responded: “Nothing,” she shook her head, “Who did you see over there?”

[Rudolf Brand]

Perhaps, had Rudolf been a more attentive person, he would have realized the slight he had occasioned Roberta by making her wait alone for such a time. But as always, Rudolf was Rudolf, and that meant he tended to be self-absorbed and oblivious, especially in the midst of a party - even if it was one so boring and bland as a Slug Club dinner. What mattered was that there was a crowd, and when there was a crowd, he was almost always forever finding acquaintances to talk to. Bobbie's lack of complaints, rather than endear him to her patience, instead made him ignorant that he was testing anyone's patience at all.

But he had, at least, the decency to focus on her presently. "Oh, couple of people," said Rudolf, glancing over in the same direction. "Prewett, for one. Talked about the team and everything, lineups this year and possible tactics. He's got some good ideas, you know."

It seemed inevitable that any conversation he had would eventually drift back to quidditch. The sport apparently exerted some sort of gravitational pull over everything else. "Really want to beat Slytherin this year. Did you hear - during tryouts, two of them broke another's arm? And that it was intentional? No sense of decency, the lot of them."

He didn't lower his voice as a few green and silver ties passed by, despite passing glares.

"So, you enjoying yourself?"

[Priscilla Brand]

The whole idea of an elite group of students rather appealed to one Priscilla Brand’s overdeveloped ego. Intellect, fame, and being set above others meant simply that she was better than everyone else. She already knew this to be fact about herself to be true, though an invitation to the Slug Club would mean that everyone else would know of her excellence. More flame to the fire of popularity, as it were. Therefore it had been somewhat of a surprise when Rudolf was invited to join Slughorn’s club, but not she. The young female had been expecting an invitation to the upcoming soiree, and when it hadn’t come, she grew cross. Perhaps it had merely been lost via transit? Yes. That seemed entirely to solve the problem, proven true when an invitation arrived sometime after her brother’s. Had Priscilla known it was the work of some imprudent little prankster, she likely would not have gone at all. Nevertheless, she did not know, and so Miss Brand quickly set to work making herself perfect for the event.

New dress robes had been ascertained for the event- an off white color, with hints of gold all throughout, and an expensive silk fabric. Priscilla selected a few of her inherited gold pieces of jewelry, meant moreso to show off her wealth than anything. Golden blond hair was shaped into a very American, Hollywood-esque cascading wave, looser than finger waves though of the same shape. She left her own makeup fairly light, preferring to allow her natural beauty to shine through. Perfect. Priscilla felt poised and polished, and a beautiful representation of what the Brand name stood for. While she had no date to attend with, that would not be a problem. Surely there would be plenty of dashing young men there, all eager to take the arm of Miss Priscilla Brand.

As she arrived (fashionably on time, of course), the female looked around and smiled to herself. So very many people were in attendance, though she did not see Rudolf. Curiosity and a reliance on her brother meant that Priscilla wanted to check in with him first, and so she politely mingled with others, until she actually spotted him. The young Gryffindor made her way over to her brother, tapping him lightly on the shoulder and greeting him with the sort of special grin she saved for him. ”Rudolf! My, but don’t you just look dashing. How pleasant to see you!” Priscilla’s sincerity made manifest in her upbeat, chipper tone, as she brushed a nearly invisible wrinkle from her brother’s shoulder. Brown eyes traversed across the table, and settled onto a rather dowdy looking female, prompting Priscilla to wrinkle her nose in distaste. Her curls looked too frizzy and wild to be anything truly beautiful, and the stupid little bow she wore in her hair was positively juvenile. And the dress! Ugh. Priscilla honestly felt queasy to her stomach.

”And how nice to see you, Roberta. What an …. interesting sort of look you’ve opted for tonight. Shabby err … chic, I’m guessing?” Again, Priscilla’s tone seemed light and airy, and to her, her words seemed like a genuine compliment. She curled her lips slightly into a smirk, looking directly at her brother’s date now. ”You know, if you can’t afford something next time, you’re welcome to borrow one of my dresses. I’ve got loads.”

[Roberta Weasley]

“Good you ran into him then,” Roberta liked Quidditch enough (she followed the national games with Gen and cheered loudly at the school matches), but she didn’t have a great deal to contribute to questions of team tactics. She heard about them constantly, of course, from her sister, and had grown up immersed in the sport enough to be an incontestable fan. But often she preferred to simply enjoy a game, rather than analyze it herself. Which was probably one of many reasons that she wasn’t on the team.

To his question she nodded affirmation and smiled to punctuate her positive sentiment. “Oh, definitely.” She clutched her drink in both hands, sipping in-between smiles to give herself something to do. After all, it was nice. There was nothing wrong with his company…when he had some to space, and Bobbie wasn’t one for extended self-pity. It could certainly have been worse. It just could have, she thought privately, been a bit more thrilling.

Though really, Roberta wasn’t too concerned. It was nice enough to feel dressed up and to sip nice drinks. It felt posh, even if she was not the most poshly-inclined person in the room, and she wasn’t really one to linger. None of her friends were about, but her classmates were around, smiling at her as they passed.

The next familiar face to approach them, before Bobbie could push the conversation further, was a blonde girl, dressed rather elegantly. Bobbie knew Priscilla Brand primarily from being Rudolf’s sister, and even then not well. Prissy was always perfectly put together and perpetually confident seeming. Bobbie tended to think she felt quite young.

Casually friendly as always, Roberta looked up to grin kindly at the younger student as she approached, dressed in glmaourous white. Bobbie stood at Rudolf’s side while Priscilla shared compliments with her brother and then finally turner her attention to his companion.

Roberta was not a terribly self-conscious girl. She was not usually terribly objectionable and so didn’t usually let critisim weigh on her too hard. But her family’s financial situation was a quiet embarrassment to Roberta, if only because she hated that it tended to over-shadow almost anything else that was common knowledge about the Weaslseys. Except for with Waverly, she rarely shopped with friends, and more rarely spoke about money. So Priscilla’s comment caught her entirely off guard. Roberta stared at the sleek girl and reached up without thinking to adjust the bow she’d tied in her red hair, pushing away her discomfort with a personable smile. “Hi, Prisicilla. Thanks – you look fantastic.” She meant it, of course, though she might have sounded just a touch distracted as she made to distract the conversation, as casually as she could, “That’s kind of you. I don’t think it’s a problem, but thanks. How are you?”

[Rudolf Brand]

Had Rudolf realized at all that he had been inattentive or less than thrilling of a date, he very well would have taken measures to change the situation; he thought too well of Roberta, really, to desire anything but a good time for her. But as always, he remained convinced of his own ability to do no harm in the arena of social interaction - or any arena, for that matter. Unless forcibly convinced otherwise, he always assumed he was acting perfectly.

In any case, their conversation was again postponed, this time by the arrival of his sister. He smiled automatically in recognition - sincerely and warmly - as he turned to regard her. "Thank you," said he, in the manner of someone used to receiving compliments of that nature. "You," he added in return, "look beautiful."

Priscilla often could do no wrong, as far as Rudolf was concerned, and this particular incident was no exception. So convinced was he of her goodwill and sweet disposition, he was completely oblivious to the condescension in her tone, and instead took her remark for a genuine compliment. So pleasant of her to impart praise! And her offer was a kind gesture, he thought, generosity embodied; he paid too little attention to the financial status of others to understand the topic would be sensitive to his date. Accordingly, he commented, "That's nice of you."

Turning back to Bobbie, though, he affirmed Priscilla's compliment himself, his own sentiments conspicuously honest. "She's right, you do look very lovely."

A smile punctuated this comment, before he followed the direction of the conversation. "Ah yes, I trust you're enjoying the - "

He paused. It was unmistakable. The hand before him, wielding his goblet, was turning a deep shade of gold. Eyes widening, he looked about him, discovering that others too were beginning to sport different, colorful complexions.

[Priscilla Brand]

Priscilla, while aware her words were perhaps less than nice, had grown so confident in herself and purpose within the world that she deluded herself with the idea that it was her job to spread fashion to those less fortunate than herself. She was being merciful- a missionary of Marchesa and Chanel. Poor little Roberta could have gone without the purple bows, and perhaps a smidgen more makeup to highlight her naturally pretty complexion. Even a little bit of more appropriately colored rouge- coral, or a dusty rose on the apples of her cheeks (with a smidgen brushed onto her temples) would have given a pleasant pop of color. Perhaps even if her dress was a different shade then- Oh, but the compliments, from both her brother and the girl meant that young Miss Brand was easily sidetracked. She smiled, warmly so, in gratitude for the compliments.

"Me? Oh, I'm doing marvelously, of course. But then, I always have tended to thrive in more well, posh atmospheres, like this." Priscilla smiled earnestly, merely sounding as though this were the honest truth and everyone alive knew it. Her smile quickly turned to morbid curiosity as her brother's hand turned an odd shade. Gold, was it? Eyes quickly diverted to other people, all sprouting curious shades of the rainbow. Priscilla quickly moved to examine herself- nothing. She hadn't been there long after all, and hadn't had time to partake of any beverage. ... It was the Weasley girl's fault. It had to be. "What did you do!?", Priscilla demanded, her soprano voice very nearly cracking from being so shrill. It made sense in her head- Roberta was to blame for everything gone wrong, especially with her rag curlers and frumpy dress. Ugh!