Chapter Text
“Ugh, seriously? A prom?” Thaddea scoffed at the pale yellow invitation in her hands.
“What, you’re not excited?” Miss Cheery seemed scandalised at her lack of enthusiasm.
Unit 919, now in their third year at the Wundrous Society, were sitting in Hometrain. They were all having very different reactions to the golden envelopes that every member of the Wundrous Society, in school and out, had received that morning. Morrigan looked down at her own, which read:
Dear Miss Crow,
We are delighted to announce that the Wundrous Society’s 307th Triennial Promenade will be held this Summer’s Eve at sundown. All members have received and invite, and are expected to attend with their patron/candidate, if it applies.
Dress is formal to semi-formal, and all food and drink will be provided, along with a live band and orchestra.
We look forward to seeing you there.
Regards,
Elder G. Quinn
Proudfoot House
FS
Personally, Morrigan wasn’t a fan of social events, given her generally negative experience with them in the past. Hawthorne, on the other hand, and to no one’s surprise, felt quite the opposite.
“Food and dancing? What’s not to like?” he said excitedly.
“Everything,” Cadence muttered from Morrigan’s left. She privately agreed.
“Oh, come on, Cadence,” Miss Cheery said bracingly. “It’s sure to be heaps of fun. I’ve attended my fair share of Wunsoc proms, and I can tell you, they sure know how to throw a party.”
“Really, Miss? When was the last one?” Arch asked.
“Well, they hold one every three years,” She said, tapping her chin. “So the last one was held in Autumn of Eleven. That means this is the first one of the age! That’s pretty special.”
“So it’s like a party?” Anah said. “Like the Wundrous Welcome, during the trials?”
“Pretty much. It’ll be a lot bigger than that, though- every single member of the Wundrous Society will be there, including all the patrons and teachers.” Miss Cheery said. “I can’t wait to see you in all your fancy clothes!”
“Ooh, is there a costume competition? I bet I could win.” Hawthorne said eagerly.
“Unfortunately, no,” Miss Cheery replied, looking genuinely disappointed. “The Elders decided costumes didn’t fall under formal to semi-formal. But the food is always amazing- I mean, how can it not be with Armani Atwood catering?”
“Oh! They teach my Formal Cuisine and Meal Preparation class.” said Francis.
“Mm,” Miss Cheery sighed. “My mouth is watering just thinking about it. No one cooks better than Chef Atwood- hey, maybe you’ll be catering a Wunsoc Prom in an age or two, Francis.” She gave him a warm smile, which he returned.
Morrigan had to admit, her initial impression of the whole Prom thing had changed considerably by the time they all got off at Proudfoot Station, and she felt she wasn’t alone in her thinking.
The excitement within Wunsoc kept increasing with everyday- Morrigan had noticed the day before the Promenade that lots of important-looking people were visiting, bringing with them a variety of trays, furniture and decorations. She had spotted people heaving in huge vases of the largest, most brightly-coloured flowers she’d ever seen, large pieces of dark, wooden stage and wide platters with round metal covers (Hawthorne swore he could smell blueberry muffins; “the tanginess was undeniable!”, he had claimed).
Arch said he had seen some of the band members dropping off their instruments in the Music and Performance sector after coming back from a violin lesson, carrying their strangely-shaped black leather cases, all wildly varying in size.
The excitement of the upcoming Promenade had even spread to the Deucalion. Morrigan had asked Dame Chanda about the Prom as well, as the soprano seemed to have quite a bit of knowledge surrounding the subject.
“You’ve come to just the right person, my love,” She said, drawing herself up proudly. “I have attended almost ten of these events myself.”
“Wow,” Morrigan said. She wondered if going to a party that many times took the fun out of it, but somehow she didn’t think so, especially for someone like Dame Chanda. Morrigan was well aware of the singer’s generosity and enthusiasm towards these kinds of things, and she was only sorry she couldn’t make the most of Dame Chanda’s need to see her in every hat, scarf and piece of jewelry. Whilst shuffling through one of the Dame’s many boxes of rings and bangles, an ornate, yet dainty silver necklace caught her eye. Right in the center of the pendant, there was a small black opal that was neither dull nor shiny- in fact, it felt perfect.
“Could I wear this one?” she asked. Dame Chanda looked up.
“Oh, yes!” she said excitedly. “I was gifted that by a vampire whilst on my visit to one of the Northern Covens last spring.” Ah. That confirmed why Morrigan had liked it so much. “But… are you sure you want that one, darling? What about this gorgeous green one? It complements your skin tone perfectly!” Dame Chanda couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her voice when it came to Morrigan’s style choices.
“No, really,” Morrigan assured her. “I like this one. Thank you for letting me borrow it, Chanda.”
The Dame smiled sweetly and squeezed her shoulder. “Not a problem, my darling. Just remember, if you ever want something more- ah- tasteful to wear than anything that patron of yours has to offer, just give me the word and I will contact my seamstress. I just know you’ll look gorgeous!”
“You too. As you always do.” Morrigan gave her a smile and a wave as she closed the door.