dance with me, it won't kill ya {jessalyn}

"Jess."

A moment passed before the honey-haired Gryffindor shook her older sister's shoulder a little harder. "Jessalyn. Get up, you lazy-ass. We're going out." She hissed, minty gum she was chewing leaving a trace on her breath. She'd resort to filling a glass up with water and sloshing it in her face if necessary. Not that it would even get in her eyes -- Jess had one of those stupid sleeping masks on. She looked like an idiot. What was that muggle girl's name? London? Berlin? Paris. That was it. She looked like Paris Hilton with the beauty-sleep mask on.

"This dorm is dead," Clementine continued to explain as she gripped her sister's arm and hauled her out of her bed, trying not to laugh at the hair that was arranged in such a way it looked like a bird's nest at the back of her head. "Because all of your friends are out partying and you're in bed at .... what the hell time is it?" Clementine muttered through clenched teeth and slipped her jacket's sleeve up to check her watch. "Eleven-thirty? Seriously? You are so lame. C'mon. We're getting drunk. Cake your face, hurry up. All the good deals will be over before we get there if you dawdle." Her requirements were firm and still humorous; she was thankful she had the gift of being able to wheedle people into having some fun every once in awhile.

Her sister, though, she was a little bit tougher of a nut to crack. She'd have to lure her with something. Something that she'd really want. Gossip was one of those things. "I'll tell you about my... encounters with boys, if you come out with me. It'll be fun, I promise. We'll put you in one of those stick-on bras and you can feign some cleavage so guys will buy you drinks, hey?" The Gryffindor plopped down in a stool in front of the vanity in the dormitory and danced her eyebrows at Jessalyn, anticipating the indignance she'd be met with for suggesting such a thing. Her sister was not a tart. Not by any means. She was quite virtuous, and if one were to ask, she'd be sure to tell them just that.

"We can order cosmos?" She offered again weakly. "Just brush your hair and put on a slutty dress and some heels or boots or something. It'll be too dark for people to notice you're not wearing makeup," This comment was a little brash, maybe, but was that so out of character? Clementine was wearing makeup, but she'd had the thought to go out earlier and some of her friends had bailed on her to shack up with their boyfriends for the night. She wouldn't be telling Jessalyn that she was second choice. She was also wearing a dress like the aforementioned one she had suggested for her sister, but that was beside the point. Skanky dresses for everyone.

@Jessalyn Russell

   "Mmph."

  Jessalyn Russell did not take well to being rudely awoken from a sleep cycle so regimented that there were well-disciplined soldiers with less routine in their lives. She could smell no smoke, hear no typhoons, sense no evidence of danger or disaster justified enough for Clem's grubby little hand to be jerking her from what had quite frankly been an enjoyable dream in which she was given an unlimited gift card to the muggle shop Harrods. Jess was a witch, but she was a halfblood witch that knew fabulous craftsmanship when she saw it. A witch or wizard too stuck up for Chanel was a witch or wizard cutting off their nose to spite their decidedly unfabulous face. No matter; all the more quilted luxury for Jess. Being shaken awake by her younger sister was an unwelcome fly in the ointment of her fantasy when it snapped Jess back into consciousness with cruel abruptness. Turning to face the source of her sister's persistent wake up calls, she shoved her sleeping mask upwards and glared blearily at the little reprobate.

  To be fair to Clem, she made a compelling argument. The sisters seemed to share little in common at the best of times, but they would both be prepared to accept that they very much cared that everyone else was doing, if it was relevant to staying relevant. Popularity motivated both of the young blondes in many pursuits, and in that shared goal she could acknowledge that dragging her to this party was probably a welcome intervention of her sleeping pattern if it meant not being the only girl in the dorm not sighted at the place to be tonight. She didn't appreciate Clem calling her lame, though. Who'd be calling Jess lame when she looked half her age decades down the line thanks to rigorous adherence to plenty of sleep, water, and sun protection? Too many people their age didn't realise the effects their terrible habits would have on their skin in years to come. One of these days, she needed to catch Clem with a hex that showed her exactly what all of those cigarettes would do to her skin and teeth. Yikes. She was considering giving her sister a hard time about getting up just for the heck of it, when Clem threw her a bone in a fit of prophetic wisdom. Cosmos? Boy talk? The older girl bolted upright and swung her legs out of bed.

  "I don't own slutty clothes. Stick on bras included." Jess said with a baleful glance in her sister's direction for the cheek of that direction alone. She was also going to ignore the instruction to go without makeup, but telling Clem that prematurely wasn't going to be necessary. Padding over to her trunk, Jess had a rummage for something that would pass Clem's standards. Looking underdressed wasn't an option. With a murmured aha! she seized a red bandage dress and shimmied into it. Not wanting to incur her sister's wrath for taking much longer, Jess busied her way over to her mirror, nudging her sister off of the seat with her hip and tugging her loose bun out. Taking a beat to see what she could get on in five minutes, Jess decided to let foundation slide in favour of some concealer - her skin was in good enough condition for it, and Clem wouldn't have the patience for much more. She wiggled a mascara wand through her lashes, and grabbed a lipgloss in the same scarlet as her dress before painting her mouth with her eyes slightly crossed in concentration. Satisfied that she was somewhat presentable, she skipped back over to her trunk and sourced an adequately high pair of heels to complement the dress. After taking a moment to fiddle with the straps, she straightened up with a flourish.

  "There!" Cocktails and boy talk were going to be promises that Jess held Clem to, so relishing that thought she crossed the dorm once again to slide an arm through her sister's and let a wicked grin tug at her mouth. "Lead the way, Clemmy. I hope you're ready to dish all there is to dish."

"Right, forgot. You prefer the understated version of slutty." Clementine grinned wolfishly at her sister and clapped her hands together when she shot right up like a little prairie dog out of her covers. This meant an affirmative; this meant an agreement that she was going to come out with her and be on the happening social scene. They had some different friends, but their social circles crossed paths pretty often, what with being in the same house and on the team and all. There was a sense of security in attending a party where someone she trusted wholly and completely would be.

While Clem was certainly of the opinion that Jessalyn had a small stick shoved up her ass concerning certain things, one that weirdly only seemed to tickle certain nerves on certain occasions,she was also incredibly willing to notice that her sister was really quite fun when she wanted to be. Even more fun when she was drunk. There was a fine line, though -- one moment it would be giggling and stumbling around good-naturedly and the next it would be Clementine holding her sister's long tresses back so they didn't fall into the pot of vomit. That was alright, anyway. She didn't mind doing that. It wasn't as though Jessalyn hadn't done exactly the same thing for her too many times to count, and most of the time, unless her sister was too drunk to withhold any of her thoughts, she didn't bother her about it until the morning.

She made a disgruntled noise, scrunching her features together when Jess hip-checked her out of the chair. Only fair, though, she supposed, if they were going to be leaving the building within the year. They'd have to clip-clop down the corridors (or Jess would, anyway, Clementine had opted for a more comfortable pair of sneakers) relatively unnoticed and that could take a good chunk of time in itself. It was fine, however -- they did it all the time. Jessalyn cared much more for rules than Clementine did, but this one seemed to be one of the ones that was randomly acceptable to break on a regular basis.

The Gryffindor laid back on her sister's bed and looked at her recently black-varnished nails, resisting the overwhelming urge to pick at them in her boredom. While not the worst of her habits by any means at all, she wished she could quit doing that. Jessalyn had such beautiful nails all the time and Clementine's were..... not beautiful at all. Not to the same standard. Though she was the younger, more hip, cooler, more athletically-gifted sister, Clementine had always felt a niggling sort of insecurity about how naturally beautiful Jessalyn was, the way she was thin as a rail but still possessed a little more height and some subtle curves, the way she could wear her hair long, and how easy it seemed to be for her to accomplish whatever she set her mind to. Lately, Clementine didn't even feel like she could accomplish talking to people successfully. One person in particular came to mind. He felt awfully difficult to access, and it was wearing on her consciousness pretty heavily that she couldn't seem to do anything about that. What was she to do? Nothing made sense. Jessalyn had lists, she had to-do calendars, she used a fucking flowery planner, for Christ's sake. Everything she did was just-so, so very according to plan.

What was Clementine doing wrong? She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Couldn't quite hit the nail right on the head. Maybe it had something to do with her innate lack of self-control. It was rearing its ugly head now more than ever.

"Right on. You look smashing." Clem affirmed Jess with an encouraging nod and latched onto her arm, sneering at her for just a second. "Wish you weren't about a foot taller than me now, though. We'll have to sit down to be at eye-level at all." Clementine was also perfectly aware her sister wouldn't be taking her shoes off for comfort's sake unless she was too smashed to walk in them. Jessalyn would most definitely say that one should wear the shoes out they were planning to wear. Taking them off was tacky. If you didn't have the skill or tolerance to wear heels to a party without taking them off, Jess was of the opinion you shouldn't wear them at all. Typical.

She let out a little huff of a laugh at that last statement and led them out of the dormitories, through the common room, and through the snoring Fat Lady. "Pff. Not ready, but I figure it's about time. I might be the one needing some advice on how to be chill this time 'round."

It was going to be a long walk. "Really wishing that apparition could happen right about now. What d'you think would be the safest way to get there quickly?"