Georgiana strode into the tower, carrying a large box in her arms. A folder, stuffed full of pictures, clippings, and half-torn pages perched precariously atop the box, occasionally sliding one way or another in a threatening fashion. Every time it shifted, Gigi's anticipatory grin turned to a scowl as she attempted to keep it from falling and then spilling everywhere. If her brother was performing his dork routine elsewhere that night, well, she'd be quite annoyed.

Especially with how much planning she'd put into this. "Hey, priest!" Her voice was just a bit louder than it needed to be for the space. "Don't tell me you forgot about this." The box fell to the floor with a soft thunk, and the folder finally slid off from atop it. A few images of a rather short, and brilliantly red dress fell out as it crumpled against the floor.

"Tappy?" She'd softened her voice a little. A small shove of her foot moved the errant pictures mostly back into their folder. This was annoying. Almost enough to make her want to wander around calling him like a cat. Here dweeb dweeb dweeb dweeb.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The sound of someone coming up the stairs had not echoed but had still been easy enough to hear, and Tapendra hadn't made much effort to cease what he was doing - repairing a broken telescope so it actually worked was a fairly delicate task, especially when there was magic involved.

"One moment!" he called, before he registered the voice was his sister's. Well, that explained the stomping, didn't it? He put the telescope aside, rising and coming down into the classroom from the thin upper floor, where he'd been sitting.

"What's up?" He asked, hopping off the last few steps of the ladder. The papers she carried made him raise an eyebrow as he walked over, tilting his head slightly - but she picked them up from he had a chance to see what they were.

"That a project?" He asked. Despite his sister's oh-so-prickly exterior, he tended to counter it with optimism and cheerfulness.

There was nothing quite annoying like Tappy's cheerfulness. Ruined the fun of him being an easy target half the time. Gigi picked the folder at and shoved it at him. "Dresses, remember? Unless you really did want me to dress up as Shepard for the ball."

She rolled her eyes. Matriarch Benezia would be more fun. Though then her brother would probably hex her into a decorative statue or, even worse, ask her to accompany Cy and her little date throughout the entire event. "We'll need some glue. Unless you're going to terrorize me with a sticking charm."

Given that most of the so-called dresses in the pictures could more accurately be described as skirts, they would need something. The rest, well, they managed a particularly disgusting combination of colors, frills, and strangely cut-out shapes that even her brother would recognize as being inappropriate. Near anything would be considered proper in comparison.

She kicked the box lightly and waited for his reaction.

She shoved the folder at him, and he took it with what might have been a sigh had he not restrained it. He glanced up from it at her, with a muttered, "You wouldn't fit in my costume anyway," before his eyes returned to the pictures..and bugged out slightly.

His sister's taste in fashion had never quite been understandable to him. Oh, sure, he'd gone through a phase in school where dark clothing and knee-high boots had seemed a good idea, but that was what it had been - a phase. She seemed to be taking a phase and making it a lifestyle, which was increasingly alarming with every year she failed to simply grow out of it.

And the dresses in the folder were terrifying. He'd get fired for sure if she turned up in them, even if they bought 6 of them and stitched them together. His wide eyes shot to her, then the pictures, then to her.

"No," he said, snapping the folder shut, blue eyes narrowed to slits. "Georgiana, the Yule Ball is a very important event and you are not turning up looking like...like..." He waved a hand at the folder. "Like a stripper!"

Yes. Gigi pulled out an imaginary quill and pad of paper and pretended to take notes while mouthing the words to herself. "Next year's Halloween costume...." She then mimicked the motions of putting her pretense of notes away before extending her hand. "Pictures, then?"

She stomped her foot on the floor in pretended irritation. Just a little more sputtering before the big reveal. Couldn't have her brother being too articulate for that. "And what, you want me to go wearing duct tape and a bag over my head?" An impatient scowl. "No, let me guess, you want me to wear something uglier."

Another kick at the box, which wobbled but didn't fall over. Yet. "I'm not putting on a sheet and going as a ghost. All the sheets here smell like dead people." Or old people. Or mothballs. That wasn't a difference she was going to poke at.

"I want you to wear something that will make you not look like you've resorted to selling yourself," he said, rather sharply. If McGonagall saw that, she'd...well, he wasn't sure what she'd do. Probably extend the skirt on Georgiana's gown, admittedly, but then...the mere fact Gigi had walked into the ball in something like that would be sure to get him fired.

He didn't hand the pictures back, unable to keep himself from looking at them again. Tape! There was no way these things didn't ride up. If Judy had struggled with a garter belt, these things had to be...well, they didn't stay down on their own. It was that simple.

Gods, these made Spellpunk and the other clubs look conservative.

"Going as a ghost would be more dignified," he said, finally handing the pictures back and crossing his arms. "You're not going in anything that requires tape - or magic - to keep from flashing the crowd, understood?"

She snatched the pictures back when Tappy finally released them, and shoved them back into the folder. "Fine, then. Ruin my duct-tape dress plan while you're at it. What do you want, for me to spend all your money at Libertine?" A deeper scowl as some of the pictures fell out of the folder and crumpled to the floor.

These she clenched at as she shoved them back again, not even caring if they were wrinkled. "Bet I'd look better than you in a suit, though." She was comfortable wearing shoes, at least. And pants were easier to kick people in.

"But come on then, show me what sort of frumpy trash you want me to wear so I know where to start. At least once I'm done vomiting at it." The impatient clicking of her shoes against the floor resounded in the tower.

"Though if you suggest pink I'm sabotaging your mouse." Some fluffed up doll was not a look she could tolerate, even for this.

He only barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Teenagers! Smite him dead if Cyhirae had a rebellious streak like Georgiana did. Had he had something to do with this? Or had she simply inherited far more of his mother's personality than he ever had?

Probably a bit of both, he decided.

"If you want a dress from Libertine you'll have to figure that out now," he said, glumly. He knew he'd have to shell out for a suit from there anyway; it was probably his only chance to not look like a total...well, to look decent. "Otherwise he'll charge more than I will ever pay for something you'll probably never have a reason wear again."

Costly or not (horrendously costly, he suspected - did Darian even make women's clothes?) it was better than duct tape, and he suspected Georgiana knew it. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Amazingly I don't exactly have pictures of suitable dresses laying about, Georgiana," he said, with a sigh. "And no, you're not wearing a pantsuit either. Just pick a dress that can't be described as..." He rubbed his nose. "One that has more than one yard of fabric involved, okay?" He looked at her over his glasses. "You wear halfway acceptable dresses half the time anyway. Just get one of those and make it floor length."

Georgiana felt a momentary urge to pump her fist in the air and shout 'Victory', but instead settled for an expression somewhere between a resigned glare and a smirk. She wouldn't go for Libertine anyway, there were too many other exciting things to spend her money on. Things like new computer parts and large, rather than small, piles of new clothes, and collectors editions of things.

She then moved the folder of pictures off the box, lifted  it up, and then tossed it lightly at Tapendra. "Fine. Try this. Maybe it'll work."

Floor length and containing more than one yard of fabric were conditions it met. Though the pushing, well, good way to get her brother resigned to something that wouldn't make her look older than Minerva and with worse fashion taste than Tappy. At least she'd never worn socks underneath her sandals.

He stumbled backwards in surprise as a pile of blue and black silk and lace was rather abruptly tossed at him, only barely managing to catch it before it landed on the floor. Thankfully, it didn't rip. Tailoring magic was one of those precise arts the didn't really teach you at Hogwarts, was it?

He lifted the gown, eyebrow raised in unmasked skepticism. No doubt it was...

Utterly inoffensive. He was so surprised he didn't say anything for a few moments, looking the dress up and down. Looking for something - anything - that would be the give away to what her actual plan was. Maybe there was a compartment, or the skirt's bottom came off, or...

But there was nothing. He lowered it, looking at Georgiana over the top of the dress, his head tilted slightly. He was still waiting for the punchline to drop.

"This one is fine," he said carefully, holding it out for her to take.

Permission! No takebacks. "Shiny, thanks!" Her grin burst wide as she took the dress back and cautiously folded it up before placing it back in its box.  She could...well, ok, she couldn't resist.

"You should have seen your face, though. Ha!" That might have been the best part of this. Or, maybe it was the thought that relief about the dress might keep her brother off her ass about the ball. It was Cy he'd need to worry about, anyways. Gigi wasn't planning on a date.

Well, unless he was older. And really hot. But maybe she could sneak some alcohol. Not like she'd be apparating while drunk or anything. She wouldn't be drunk either. Just a little bit. She was old enough, damnit. She crossed her arms and tried to smother the grin. Which didn't exactly work. "What, you thought I wanted to get hexed?"

Georgiana's sudden bout of happiness surprised him - in a good way, which was a rather nice change from the usual form of surprise his rebellious sister foisted on him. She wasn't often cheerful (especially at him), and he appreciated the few moments of it when he got it  - which seemed rarer and rarer these days. He automatically smiled warmly, though her pleasure also made him a bit suspicious that he'd been had.

"Sometimes I have to wonder that, yes," he said, with a meaningful look at the pictures she'd come in with and a pointedly raised eyebrow. Still, he wasn't angry, and it showed in his casual tone. "You're set for the ball, then? Do you have shoes and such?"

He shifted his weight. "And by shoes I mean ones you're comfortable dancing in for several hours. If you go in 7 inch pumps you'll have no one but yourself to blame when your foot rebel."

Gigi followed her brother's gaze down to the pictures, then nodded. "Guess I don't need those anymore." There had to be somewhere to trash them nearby. She wasn't going to carry everything back down the stairs. "And well, guess there might be some hexes I'd take."

That was soon followed by a sour look down at her chest. "If you ever hear of one to grow tits, let me know." Though that would have to be tested first...nope nope nope not going there. Not with Tappy about. Nope. Not in the half-life of anything.

"And yeah, I have those...what'd you call them. TRON shoes. Blue and black ones." A shrug and she spread her hands to estimate the smaller heels on them. "Not too tall. Just enough to kill anyone who looks at Cy funny." She wasn't going to dance all night anyways. That was something dorks did. And schlawkwards.  "And hey, at least I'll be wearing shoes." Tappy got a pointed look with that. He'd earned himself the role of bad fashion example quite some time back, and there was no way she'd be letting him forget it.

"No date, though." She shrugged again, not seeming bothered by it.

"It'd be best to avoid having the Headmistress hex you, yes," he said, leaning on his desk. "Especially since some of the guests might well be your future employers. You don't really want them remembering you as a flasher, I'd hope."

He simply flushed and cleared his throat at her question, though the flush was all but invisible on his dark features. He...knew of those sorts of spells, yes (he'd hardly call them hexes, of course) but he wasn't about to tell her that...even though his expression certainly gave it away something terrible.

"Ahem. Those'd...do, I suppose," he said, trying to think of the ones in question. "May want to reinforce the heel somehow, though." He did smile slightly at her sentiment, though - looking down at his nails as he spoke. "Don't kill them. You have my blessing for a light maiming, though. You're not old enough to learn how to bury bodies."

He did look up with an eyebrow raised at her offhand remark, though. "What about that Harper fellow?" He asked.

"Not looking to work as a flasher, no." She wanted proper attention from a job, not just that kind. Plus the whole thing with the tits. Which, from Tappy's expression, he wasn't going to help her with even if he knew how. And nope, that train of thought was getting shut down again. Her brother was already awkward enough.

"What counts as light?" She stuck her tongue out and then picked up one of the pictures, which she started tearing into tiny pieces. "And how do I reinforce it? You have a 'turning high heels into weaponry' collection in your office or something?" Didn't seem like he'd have much use for it, unless...no, not going there either.

"Eh, Erin's not a date sort. More a mock whoever shows up in 7 inch pumps together type." Someone probably would, too. Just cause Gigi didn't go around screaming for a detention with her school clothes didn't prevent others from trying it. "We'd hang out, but he might want a real date."  It'd feel weird making it a date-date.  Erin was a best mate, not that.