Speed Racer Spectator

INTERACTIONS n/a | MENTIONING @Theodore Duncain, @Nichlas Forsberg
SWEDISH | NORWEGIAN | ENGLISH

Broom racing! With the chess combat and the quidditch game out of the way, the last of the sports was upon them. And what a fine day it was. Although it was overcast, the summer warmth was still enough to stave off any chill, buffered to a pleasantly cool temperature by the southern wind. No sun would shine into the eyes of spectators or interfere with the racers in their efforts to best their competition. It was perfect weather, really.

Greta was bubbling with excitement. Finally, she'd be able to bear witness to some of her favourites among the competitors. Ever since last summer, many of her former teammates had likewise departed from the Durmstrang Quidditch team. Greta had drifted after Hanzo towards duelling, but many familiar faces had found their way onto the racing team. Romeo, Cielle, and Alexei among them. Above all of them, however, was Nichlas. Finding a seat in the benches, Greta beamed at the idea of being able to see him perform. He was the sort to excel at whatever it was that he did and he was sure to demonstrate that again today.

Honey tresses blew freely in the wind as she peered expectantly towards the competitors as they took to their starting positions, one hand raising to keep them from blowing into the face of whatever unfortunate soul had chosen to sit next to her. Waves crimped her hair, the ends already almost completely unravelled from their previously double-plaited styling. For quite some time, Greta had wanted to give Niche a token of her support (as a friend of course, she'd told Ella). She'd kicked herself once that time had arrived, however, for not having come more prepared with the idea. Despite having so many weeks and months to come up with an idea, nothing had seemed to be good enough. Nevertheless, she had made due, pulling one of the ribbons binding her hair and offering it to him as a charm of good luck.

Beaming as she departed, she couldn't help thinking about how akin it had been to a princess imparting upon her chosen knight a favour for him to wear in a joust. Would he wear it though? Would she see a golden sheen of the silk shimmering around the handle of his broom, perhaps? Or better yet, around his arm?

He hadn't been the only one onto whom she'd offered a token, however. On her exit, she'd spotted Theo. It had caught her a bit off guard to see him preparing for the race. Through all of their previous correspondence, she couldn't recall him having made mention of being on the racing team. Granted... she'd been trying to forget the letters. It was less lonely that way. Her steps had slowed and paused altogether as she regarded him. He was quite princely, she reflected, brunet hair tousling playfully in the breeze. She ought to have just left him there. Ignored his presence and submitted all of her good luck and finger crossing for Niche's victory. But she didn't. Something came over her, then. Perhaps a desire to lash out against the injustices of parental limitations. It just wasn't fair that they couldn't be friends...

With a quick glance around to make sure nobody (especially Hanzo) was looking, Greta had swiftly loosed the other ribbon in her hair holding together the second braid. Hastily running forward, she'd thrust the silk forward with a closed fist, refusing to meet his gaze, with a mumbled, "Good luck", before dropping the ribbon (in his hands, to his feet, wherever it happened to go) and racing off before she could change her mind. Whether he wore it or not, however, wasn't as important. At least she felt somewhat less guilty. She hadn't forgotten him, or their friendship; but neither was she really in a position to be able to do anything about it.

Still, that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the show that was about to break loose.

taking a seat to watch — Open to interaction

August 21th, 2021

Broom Racing, one of Irina’s favorite things in the world to do. Yet this time she was on the sidelines watching rather than playing herself. She couldn’t play, mentally and physically. For one, she had already participated in a sport this summer camp and was not allowed to do two. The other reason was a little more sentimental, all of her other teammates had been killed by an explosion on a trip to Hogsmeade. They were gone, reduced to ash and Irina couldn’t help them. How could she go out there and play the team sport she loved playing with her friends when none of them were even alive anymore.

She couldn’t do it by herself and partnering with people from the other schools just didn’t seem right. Irina would have wanted to win together but there was no together anymore, it was just her. She was the last remaining Koldovstoretz broom racer that had come to summer camp and it didn’t feel right to play when they had died so recently. Maybe it was a way to honor their memories by sitting the game out. Either way, she couldn’t represent a team when there wasn’t one and if she didn’t feel 100% mentally than she should not be dodging trees while racing with her broom.

She still wanted to watch though, maybe scope out the possible competition for next time and pick up on tactics. Irina could always learn and watching others was a great way to do that. Arriving at the tower with her binoculars in hand, Irina took a seat and got ready for a race. With no one to cheer for and no team to call her own, all she could do was watch and take mental notes.

Mentioning: @Jack Warren | @Serena Towers | @Levi Drakos

Date: August 21st, 2021 Outfit: Sweater | Shorts | Shoes

───When Winnie had first learned that Jack planned to take part in broom racing she had been rather worried. It wasn't that she thought her friend wouldn't be able to do it, because she knew he could do anything he set his mind to. It was more so... Well, wasn't that kind of sport dangerous? She trusted him, but she didn't trust the other plays. What if someone pushed him off of his broom? Or the tree, what if tried to take him down? She already very much disliked trees after the entire incident with the forest... Still, she wanted to be supportive of her childhood friend. So, she had swallowed her anxiety and dressed to support Jack's team. Technically he was with Ilvermorny, but so were the rest of the Hufflepuff racers, so she had pulled on Hufflepuff sweater she had 'borrowed' from Jack that was entirely too large for her, yellow converse, and a pair of white lace shorts. and had shown up to the grassy area next to the astronomy tower to watch the race. She would weave between the crowded area, stepping over blankets and other setups until she reached the edge of the lookout.

There were several students she recognized but couldn't seem to recall their names, some were from her year and some older. She spotted Jack talking to an older, very pretty, Hufflepuff girl. They were both wearing padding of sorts! What a great idea. Winnie took in a deep breath and cupped her hands around her mouth. She would use all her ‘pterodactyl volume’ to shout, “Jackie! Good luck! You can do it!” She bounced up, throwing a fist into the air as a show of her friend's obvious future triumph. Hopefully, the boy would hear her and know she was watching.

It was then she saw Levi Drakos. He was with another team, of course, but the sight of him caused Winnie to pause. How did she currently feel about the boy? Well, it was currently the twenty-first of August so... Who knew. She did, however, hope he would be safe from harm. "Good luck, Levi!" She would shout out to him.

I have OC permission to steal Jack's sweater.

Open to interactions!

Serena was looking forward to tonight. She had missed the last broom race that had taken place at Hogwarts this past autumn, so she definitely didn’t want to miss watching the one that was taking place this summer at the camp. While Serena did enjoy flying around on a broom, playing Quidditch was more her speed, so she hadn’t signed up to join the Hogwarts racing team, opting to instead stay on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

But Serena still wanted to watch the race. Plus, some of her former Quidditch teammates would be racing, and she wanted to support them as well. So Serena made her way to the Astronomy tower and sat down on one of the several blankets spread out on the ground, waiting for the race to start. She took out the monoculars that she had brought from home and made sure that it was still in good working order for viewing the action; it had been a while since she’d gone to a race or other event that required it, and it would be very disappointing if it didn’t work. Thankfully, it was still working, so Serena set it down in her lap, waiting for the flare to go off that would signal the beginning of the race.

Interacting| Mentioning| Angél (My iNPC) | @Serena Towers | @Jack Warren | @Hugh Lowe | @Xailah Alptraum | @Simon Kincaid | @Levi Drakos | Princess (@Willow Anderson) | Solomon Lear

Outfit Reducio

Open to Interactions

INTERACTIONS n/a | MENTIONING @Theodore Duncain, @Nichlas Forsberg, @Ella Forsberg
SWEDISH | NORWEGIAN | ENGLISH

As the players got into position, Greta leaned forward—for all the good that would do—to get a better look at the players. There were two in particular for whom she searched. The first was easy to spot. Niche always held himself in such regal fashion. By his stance alone, she could likely pick him out from a crowd at a hundred meters. Today was no different. He stood among the rest, tall and proud, his bleach blonde hair like a beacon of knightly heraldry. And what a knight he was. Her heart picked up in tempo when she spotted him, lips pulling in on themselves over her teeth as she pressed them together to subdue the stupid grin that always threatened to overcome her whenever she was free to gaze upon him from a distance. When his proximity didn't turn her into a stammering fool; and the presence of his sister didn't beget a false front of emotional denial.

No, he was free for her to take him in and her heart soared to the heights to which he'd soon be taking as she recalled just how chivalrous he'd been in accepting her token. Not only had he accepted it, in fact, he'd held it to his heart. What if he liked her too?! What other reason could he possibly have had for such a gesture? It was almost enough to make her swoon on the spot, a ripe chime of giggles rippling in her throat at the thought that maybe her affections weren't entirely one-sided.

Nearby, Theo took his position, preparing for the flight. It was hard to tell for certain at this distance, but it almost looked like something was troubling him. That served to quell some of Greta's mirth. Lips released into the shadow of a pout as lines etched themselves faintly upon her brow. Perhaps nerves were getting to him. It was a big race, and there were a lot of large players. Quite literally so, she noted of one boy (Hugh) in particular who seemed to dwarf the rest. She might have thought him an adult if it weren't for the fact that he had mingled himself among the rest of the players and she was pretty certain this was for students only.

Then it began and Greta held her breath. The start always seemed the most chaotic as students attempted to gain the advantage of the upperhand and cast aside their competition early if possible. This round was no different. Practically from the get go, she saw Niche pull his wand and take aim. Whoever was at the tail end of that would feel pain, she knew. He'd been a member on the duelling team for very good reason, and his reputation as an adept spellcaster preceded him, striking fear into the hearts of any who might dare to cross him. It was a privelege to be able to bear witness to such expert casting.

Theo slipped. "NEI!" Greta jumped to her feet, wide-eyed as the realization set in. He wasn't the first or only to go down, but the coincidence was too much. Niche had drawn, Theo and another had gone down with a timing that was too perfect to be coincidental. Hands that had slapped over her mouth in the initial shock shifted to frame her face, cheeks pressed in on either side as she grounded herself. This is to be expected, she reminded herself. They're both in the game. Nobody is free of potential attack. Just like quidditch. Just like duelling. Easing herself back to her seat with some difficulty, she watched on. She could barely stand to keep looking as Theo fell from his broom. But neither could she look away.

"Stå opp... Stå opp..." she murmured, pleading for Theo to "stand up". To get back to his broom and recover himself. Hopefully he hadn't been seriously injured...

Open to interaction

| @Xailah Alptraum |

It was evident Pericles was searching for something, and not simply awaiting the start of the race. His elbows were propped to a sill, omnioculars in his hands, its many lenses clicking and whirring as he zoomed in and around the starting line. It was no wonder he missed sight of his friend swooping up so closely; he'd made the mistake of assuming she would be where everyone else was. He set the tool aside, expression brightening, tone more "awake" than usual.
"There you are."
"Pericles. I can't be long- I just wanted to drop by and say 'hallo'. So, hallo."
"Hullo, Xai."
"I've brought Schrödinger, to keep an eye on you."
"Ah- how considerate of you!"
It was apparent the cat currently inhabited the basket at the end of her broom, so Pericles was prompt in accepting it, quickly dragging it away from the precarious ledge and into his custody. The squishy lump of companion was drawn from within to be cradled like a baby, welcomed with the verbal comportment of one academic colleague greeting another.

"I get to test out the goggles you got for me. How do I look? Fast?"
"Like a proper valkyrie," he answered with absolute satisfaction, snorting softly at her catty pose, though a twinge of nervousness crossed his freckled features as Peri added, "I hope your spear-arm is ready." There was a vast difference, in his opinion, between watching Meenauh duel, and watching Xailah race. In dueling, one was on a stage with structure, rules, and expectations. Although they were directly bombarded with spells, it was all part of an organized dance. Racing was different. One had to battle the elements, and competitors, running the constant risk of being bludgeoned by trees or falling from perilous heights. It was scarier than dueling, scarier than Quidditch. The bird speculated this dangerous and unpredictable climate was the more suitable (amusing) option for their wild catling, and he would support her from the sidelines. Though that didn't mean he had to like it. "Wish me luck." she had prompted, and at the unexpected addition of a perfectly polite "Please", Peri did his best to sound sure as he gripped her outstretched hand, thoughtfully ambling, "I think I'll wish you speed, strength, and evasiveness. Those ought to be a great deal more effective."

"You wont be there to catch me, if I fall this time."
Surprise dispelled his smile and arched his eyebrows, though just as quickly as it had shown itself, it was gone, replaced by sad eyes and a bittersweet grin. He mirrored her quiet volume, sounding somber. "We both know that's a luxury...." An odd, obscure, vaguely dramatic line spoken with the certainty she would understand it all the same. Being near enough to protect one's friends was never a given. It was something they sought, the tight-knit nature of the Goth Kid Trio brought on by their desire to protect one another, to not lose the sense of home-away-from-home their company wrought. They couldn't always be around to hold doom at bay. But the gentle crease of concern on his forehead disappeared, sudden confidence lining Peri's mellow voice as he insisted, "...one you'll do just fine without." This line rang more like a compliment. Xailah was no damsel, she was a lioness by design, and she would not need Pericles to catch her. "We'll be here, cheering you on all the same." Schrödinger was hoisted a little higher, enlisted into a two-man (rather one boy, one cat) spirit squad, encouraged with a fond sing-song "Won't we? Of course! Such a proper gentleman." But when the witch left, so too would his smile for the duration of the race, all mild murmurs, amused lines, and reassuring comments replaced by a grim silence with an inexpressive line for lips. His eyes were bright and fixed on the racer, only absentmindedly stroking Schrö's fur from time to time, trying to soothe them both.

Interacting| - Mentioning| -

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