Under the Glimmer [Open]

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Miral Valtoris
6th Year | Prefect | Seeker
6th Year | Prefect | Seeker
Player: Nova

Under the Glimmer [Open]

Post by Miral Valtoris »

The Great Hall was a vision of winter magic, a place that seemed as if it had been plucked straight from a fairytale. Miral didn’t linger on the spectacle; instead, she moved with purpose through the room, taking in the atmosphere with a practiced, discerning gaze. The hum of excited chatter surrounded her, but it was all background noise—she wasn’t here to admire the decorations.

Her simple yet striking black gown swayed lightly as she walked, the feathers at the hem catching the light just enough to give it an ethereal look. She had spent little time fussing over her appearance—everything about her was carefully considered but never overdone. Her blonde hair, styled with just a touch of elegance, framed her face naturally, and her blue eyes scanned the room with a quiet confidence that matched the situation.

There was no need to make a spectacle of herself; Miral was used to having eyes on her, whether she sought attention or not. She kept her presence calm, poised, and observant, knowing that she didn’t have to make a grand entrance to leave an impression. People would notice her regardless. The night was just another event to navigate with precision, and there was always room for a little friendly competition—or a strategic advantage. She wasn’t in the mood to engage in every conversation, but she’d be watching, taking note of who was speaking to whom and where allegiances might shift.

The dance floor was calling, but Miral wasn’t in a rush. She would take her time, not because she feared missing out on anything, but because she knew that when she chose to participate, it would be on her terms. Tonight wasn’t about trying too hard. It was about making the right moves when it mattered. She wasn't raised to be a casual partygoer, after all.

She found the table with drinks and got herself one, smiling at the people nearby and waving at a few familiar people before moving to stand on the edge of the throng, crossing her free arm across her waist as she sipped at her drink.
Strength is not measured by the power we possess but by the will to never back down from a challenge.
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