Closed A Lucky Star and the Competition at Skylar Tent

interacting with Hans Jenssen (@Archer Duncan)

Semyon would have been content with remaining in the company of only himself. Upon feeling a tickle near his ankle, he managed to pick up a tiny spider that had gotten lost. A friend, he wondered, deeming this a good sign as he allowed the little buddy to climb over his fingers. A harmless little newborn on it's way to conquer the world and if it survived into adulthood an agent of fear and terror for the squeamish. He let the little spiderling crawl over his fingers for a moment, it occupying him being rather welcome within a busy tent, before allowing it to climb on as he sat it on the tent wall.

He very much assumed the spider had sought shelter against the unnatural cold that disturbed the natural course of the ecosystem outdoors. There was a feeling that these camp people had not asked nature's permission to do such things and would eventually get their payback, if their ignorance had angered her. People were good at being ignorant, as good as he was at being silent. The world around him quiet and loud at the same time, each whisper a thousand yards away and yet so loud and clear he wouldn't have minded things to be more quiet. But the butterfly had led him here and surely that had meaning, or at the very least Semyon would not stand in the way of nature and fate spinning the web that would cushion his unplanned steps ahead and guard him from such dangers.

Even with the spider gone, his solitude was no longer his as the next individual thought to approach and Semyon stared at him unblinkingly, with a gaze that carried a void of emotion so vast it was perhaps unsettling to behold. A language, spoken to him, he recognized it as Russian which suited him well as he would not be going into this blind. However the boy lead with a question, an inquiry perhaps. Why? For what reason would he show such curiosity for the ghost of a boy. People tended to just overlook him, which Semyon welcomed just fine, though he was not one to ignore the call of fate spinning two lives together, regardless of whether or not it was a comfortable net or one that was fragile and would not last.

He gave a smile to the boy, one that did not feel or seem particularly warm and more like an attempt to appear friendly, which, if Semyon thought about, was the actual reason people smiled. However his did not look quite right, not that he was aware or cared about as he reached out to grab Hans' hand at the wrist and lightly pulled it closer.

if you allow it
Semyon would use his right hand to hold the wrist of Hans, while opening up the palm with his left to give himself space. Unconventional but harmless (so far) as he began to draw over the palm with his pointer finger. Uncaring and perhaps a little unaware of the invasion of privacy and space he had just committed. It was perhaps eerie as he began to draw letters. 'W' he begun and continued 'A' for as long 'T' as Hans would allow it. 'C' would join the other letters, 'H' clearly he was writing something 'I', a message of sorts perhaps 'N' but that would only be the case for as long as the boy took 'G' before he pulled away, if he did at all. If anything Semyon would have attempted to keep hold of the hand until he was done and then pluck something from his pocket to place within the opened palm, before closing it for the other boy; the yellow flower of a forsythia, if he had a knowledge of flowers or were to look it up later.

if you pull away
Semyon would have tried to keep the hand there, if only for a moment, before allowing Hans without complaints to pull his hand away. However there was no remorse or regret or even a bit of feeling sorry that could be caught with the odd boy. There was no reaction really, that was until the curly haired boy pulled something from his pocket, reached out once more against better judgement and pushed two flowers into his hand, knowingly invading the other boy's space and not seeming to care. Two flowers, both unlike each other as the Russian stared at the other unblinking; a purple hyacinth and a forsythia. There was however a lack of answer to the question, as Semyon remained silent before pulling back his hand and returning to his people watching.

Felix Kolbeck @Winnie Harper, Greta Fransson @Evelynn Decipio @Dealla Prince

Theo was thrilled to be back in the UK, in England instead of Scotland this time. Hopefully being away from Hogwarts meant the camp would be a little more peaceful than events on the Hogwarts grounds tended to be. So far he was delighted by the atmosphere. The winter theme felt a little odd, but he didn't mind it at all, especially his ginger bread house tent had made him immediately love it.

It was the smell of food that drew him to the vendor's tent now. Theo had spent most of the day training with his new broom- yes, he had saved until he could upgrade from Firebolt to Oakshaft- and not eaten much yet. Well yes, and the Quidditch decorations made him feel extra invited. While he had missed broom racing a little at first after he switched sports, he now found that he had found his place as a beater, so much that he was seriously considering trying to go on with it outside of school.

More of the delicious smells hit him as he entered the tent that was already full of other students. He observed for a few seconds, watched the others- maybe there were some fun people he could chat with once he had picked something to eat- before starting to look at what the vendor had to offer. Theo just opened his mouth to order some of that delicious looking honeycomb ice cream, when a female voice caught his attention. And there she was, rushing across the tent to hug another boy.

The words he was about to say were suddenly stuck in his throat as he watched, the vendor eventually turned to serve other students when she realized that there wouldn't be an order from the young man just yet. Theo wasn't sure what he waited for. Would she notice him? If she did, would she acknowledge him in front of her friend? And who even was that friend? Like... a friend or a friend? His stomach seemed to twist in slight discomfort at the thought.

It only recently occurred to Theo that this would be one of his last summer camps. After his sixth year he would be going one final time and that was it. In all the past years, Theo hadn't gotten many chances to talk to Greta and when he befriended Dee, he had seriously thought that maybe he could let her go now. That was until it was her on his mind when Dee attempted to kiss him, which he felt terrible about until this day.
There wouldn't be many more chances now.

Theo shook his head in an attempt to clear his head and finally ordered that ice cream he had his eye on, still glancing Greta's way every few seconds. Should she notice him, he would offer her a wink and his signature grin.

magnificent banner by Valentin Schnell

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

What a curious little creature he was.

And how did this curious little creature, scraggly, petite, and pale, find a place in the Quidditch team as keeper? A boy who exhibited no emotion as he regarded Hans with those dully piercing mud brown eyes, unblinking, completely stoic. Titling his head slightly, seemingly to indicate, 'Are you quite alright, bud?' he then shook his head and was about to leave as the child did not seem interested in any interaction at all. Well, excuse him. Just as he was about to turn away from the odd little thing, Hans was greeted with a smile, yet unlike the charming although evidently feigned smile of polite pure-bloods, his was a twisted, crude imitation. Yet what caused Hans to stay longer than he had anticipated or hoped was a matter of force rather than choice, for the scrawny second year tugged at his wrist, pulling it close and causing the German to take a reluctant step forward.

Opening up Hans' palm in a blatant and seemingly completely unapologetic invasion of the third year's personal space, Hans decided to allow it, if only out of curiosity. Still remaining casual about the situation, although unconventional and peculiar, his eyes lightly downcast to follow the younger student's forefinger he read: "C" the boy begun in the Russian alphabet, followed by "M" and then a stretched out "O". Before he could bring down his finger to write one more letter, Hans raised his free hand and pushed down the one of the younger student, eyes turning up to fix themselves on the unsettling ones of his. Pulling away swiftly, he said, 'I think that's enough for tonight.' Preparing to straighten himself and continue on his way to enjoy his cooling food, which he was more than ready to get back to. Without the slightest sign of disappointment, the curly-haired boy pushed two flowers into the hand of the German, one a curl of purple spiralling upwards and the other a petite pinprick of pastel yellow, neither of which he recognised. Pocketing them although he was positive the juvenile would not have cared what he did, Hans would later put the flowers atop a random table for a stranger either to pick them up or for them to be discarded at the end of the day, return to his seat, and think of what had just happened as part of some uncanny act, before digging into his pie.

@Oonagh Brown as Senya

July 18th 2024

More Snooping with @Piérre Marchonné and the gang.
Open to Interactions
Speech: cfa120
Thoughts: Italics

Steering away from the punch bowl until as such time she could deem herself confident to taste a drop, Emily instead turned her attention to the rest of the mass delicacies lined along the tables. While she no doubt held her scepticism for the "spiked" drinks - no matter how true the statement was - the food looked a lot safer for edibility's sake. Going by past experiences that is.

It all looked spectacular, she had to admit. Pastries glazed in sugar and sauce, treats stacked high with a promise of sweet goodness, all of which blended together in heavenly smells of fresh snacks and bakes. She was so spoilt for choice she didn't know where to start. It felt like she would be betraying one end of the stockpile if she started at the other end and vice versa.

Her eye suddenly caught a glimpse of a row of traybakes at the very far end. Upon closer inspection she identified them as some form of brookies brownie cookies. She picked one up, intrigued by the slightly spongy top compared to the firmer bottom. She caught the scent of peanut butter from inside, feeling little tinges of it as she held it in her fingers, along with the remnants of chocolate sauce that seemed to have been injected in there. Chocolate and peanut butter? Well Emily definitely had to try it now...

She took a nibble. Sweet. Jeezums.

The brookie in her hand was gone in sixty seconds. It was heckin' good. She took another... few.

If she was expected to try a few snackies, then these would suffice for the time being. And the best part? No side effects to declare.

_{Word Count: 319}

Stats: Stamina: 7|Evasion: 6|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 8|Arcane Power: 7|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace

LUCKY STAR MODERATION POST

Valentin’s violet eyes peered out from behind a display of Durmstrang quidditch flags, but why was he hiding? Could it be that fearless “Hell-Chaser Val” was embarrassed by the extremely poofy and intricately embellished costume that Piérre had goaded him into wearing on a dare? With sky blue interweaving with white jester-style checkerboard and crosshatching patterns and boasting a large gold sun on one shoulder, “Skylar’s” outfit was certainly the kind of eye-catching display suited for an entertainer. Val had complained about feeling like a fluffy cloud with its impractically gigantic sleeves, and from the wide sash at his waist trailed long chiffon trails cut in a dagger-pointed handkerchief hem in grey-blue resembling curtains of rainfall. “Purely decorative” oriental sheathed daggers curled out from either hip in a fine dual-wielder’s display, while dangling bits of silver and gold jewelry hung from the boy’s neck, ears, and brow. With his snowy white hair grown out specifically for the occasion, the boy’s pale features only further accentuated the whites that anchored his garments' color scheme. It was all a bit much… but this… this was in the name of love. For love Valentin could allow such extravagance. It was what his butler Sergei had always told him, anyway – dressing up was a gift and a key part of any performer’s affection for their audience.

This was also the reason Valentin choked down donning a new “performance name” of Skylar Breezeborne as chosen by – you guessed it – the joker Piérre. Despite complaining that the whole thing was a bit on-the-nose, especially considering the sky-embodying outfit, Val was assured that this was all part of the charm. Durmstrang’s seeker had accumulated many names given to him by people near and far, and he treasured each one… but never had he pretended to be someone or something he was not. It was uncomfortable, even more than the sleeves he was afraid to get caught on something, but for Greta, for Felix, for Piérre and their audience, Valentin would do it. Justifying the name “Skylar Breezeborne” as just another nickname given by a friend, Val gave himself to their performance. The moment was now, as a certain Scandinavian beauty was just entering the tent.

“Welcome, and CONGRATULATIONS to our very special 10,000th customer at the grand opening of Skylar Breezeborne’s Enchanting Delicacies! You are today’s LUCKY STAR.” Popping out suddenly and grabbing Greta Fransson by the shoulder, “Skylar’s” 6’1” stature towered in a familiar way over the 5’2” girl. To be fair, other than looking dramatically over the top and having his hair incredibly long by his usual standards, Greta’s quidditch captain might have been easily recognizable from his narrow and wiry athletic frame alone, if not for his telltale purple eyes.

“This evening we have a very special performance to accompany your drinking and dining – a competition for glory, prizes, and to honor the majesty of our queen-for-a-day. Miss, would you please tell the audience your name? You are to be the judge for proceedings today and will be lavishly rewarded for your service to these people of your domain.” Valentin shot his co-conspirator Piérre “the look” that said it was time to drag Greta up onto the stage and begin plying her with any kind of convincing she might need if the raw adventure itself proved insufficient. As he passed the baton of the queen’s transport to the suspicious trenchcoat-clad jester, Valentin’s eyes shot to an unsuspecting faux-leather-armored blonde trying to escape with his (properly purchased) spinach pie to-go.

“You, sir! You look like a chap in excellent, no, peak physical condition and with a courageous spirit. Her majesty would surely appreciate your participation in today’s festivities, competing in HER HONOR and perchance winning the ultimate boon of her esteem…? Join us now as a knight valiant for daring, impressive challenges... and if that were not already enough, today’s victor will get to share in the spoils together with her highness, Queen Lucky Star. Madam Rosetta, if you please!”

Snatching Felix Kolbeck by the hem of his jacket and pulling him towards the stage as well, if the bleached blonde recognized Valentin he would know that look in the Frost Captain’s eyes that said “you will do this for your own good and you can thank me later.”

Approaching the stage, Valentin Skylar Breezeborne swept with his off arm to indicate to the madam in the low-cut dress to help unveil the prizes previously concealed under luxurious cloth. With a bright flash of scarlet, Breezeborne’s assistant revealed a spacious enclosure in which romped five small crup puppies of assorted breeds. The tiny magical dogs, sensing human attention was now upon them, began to yip and moan and bark as each one reacted in its own way.

A classic Jack Russell terrier breed crup gaped openly at Felix, who was the nearest one to the display, and its ecstatic puppy face communicated only the pure joyous love of instant bonding. Its two tails wagged simply from the pleasure of any eye contact Felix showed it. Other crup puppies were more curious about their newly revealed environment, and a pure white German shepherd-type crup bounded quickly up to the edge of the enclosure and stared into the crowd as if it wanted to lick every single member of the audience. Still lying in a demure position in the background, a St.-Bernard-style crup was the heftiest of the bunch and even at this young age its muscular build was beginning to show. To its left a baby borzoi crup peered out with longing, scanning the audience from a distance from behind its long nose. Its bright silver eyes lit on Greta, and as it stared standing as still as an ice sculpture, the pup was clearly immediately as loyal to her as Bedivere to King Arthur. The last of the five crup puppies was the shyest of the group and laid in a melty puddle of basset hound wrinkles in the back. Clearly the runt of its litter, it was not eager to attract attention to itself, but as it lifted its head and opened its eyes, this pup seemed the most in need of love. One of its two brilliant golden eyes was lazy, sinking halfway below the horizon of its eyelid, while the other eye inquired with pleading if anyone should bother to consider it.

“Today’s first of three prizes, to be awarded to the house of our winning knight, is the adoption of these five crup puppies. The sheer amount of love, spunk, and adventure held together by these unique sweethearts is sure to fill your home with antics and adoration for years to come. Each of these pups is an orphan and in desperate need of tender loving care after having lived their earliest days abandoned on the streets.” Nodding to Madam Rosetta, Valentin walked towards the rest of the prize display. She pulled back another curtain to reveal a gleaming golden card and a dark-tinted bottle on ice.

“…. And here are the other two of our main rewards. To be given to her majesty and to be shared with her choice of knight from today’s competition, a free all-inclusive ticket for two to the Fantastic Beasts Zoo. If it pleases her majesty for use on date night, we also offer her this fine vintage of Italian red wine as the final prize in thanks for her service of judging the competitors this evening.” Jumping down from the stage and beginning to walk out among those in attendance tonight, Skylar looked each person in the eye, daring them each to take on the challenge.

“Of course, the most important prize tonight will be to sparkle in the eyes of her highness. After each of three trials she will be asked to evaluate who was the most impressive. Then, at the end, she will be asked to pass Final Judgment on which knight would join her royal court. Now, may I ask for volunteers for today’s competition? Please line up here on the stage to undergo the first task…” It wouldn’t matter if most people were dressed in street clothes today, for as soon as anyone dared to climb up onto the stage, Madam Rosetta would magically wand them over into a new Renaissance-themed outfit [according to your in-post description].

“Now your majesty, if you would follow my friend here, he will guide you to your seat…” A buried chuckle could almost be heard beyond Skylar’s grinning suggestion, but he made no eye contact as he let Piérre escort her to a “special location.” He would pass further speech-making onto him then as well. Shifting instead slowly through the crowd, Skylar began inspecting each person with a beguiling glint to his light purple eyes.

The tall host's gaze first lighted on a curly-haired brown-eyed boy who was already near and dear to the concealed captain’s heart. He had seen the exchange with Hans, and disappointed in Icarus’s rejection of Semyon’s precious floral gesture, Valentin’s eyes sought contact with Senya’s. The seeker’s protégé would be well accustomed to reading the other’s gaze, and if the smaller boy recognized him, he would know that Valentin appreciated what Semyon had done even if Hans couldn’t. Picking up the discarded flowers from where Hans had abandoned them, Valentin smiled back at Semyon. The captain’s eyes were soft and inviting, but not urgent. Their message was clear: join the competition if it suits you, or just learn what you can from watching. Either way, Valentin was clearly happier to have the boy close by, as if it made the tent feel more like home. Without any word of greeting or parting, Valentin turned away to proceed to the next person in range.

Madam Rosetta would not protest if any of the attendees had not offered to pay for their food and drink today, but she would smile with gratitude and accept payments as (not always clearly) labelled. This was not her decision, but the directions given by Skylar in advance. No one would go hungry tonight. None would thirst without finding something satisfying to slake their respective needs. Those who could pay would ensure that everything worked out for those who couldn’t.

Passing by Emily, a Hufflepuff Skylar was not familiar with, the white-haired host would smile mysteriously. To forgo the punchbowl could have been an act of wise judgment or an act of cowardice depending on how one looked at it. For Skylar this line was always a fine one to walk. His eyes peered into hers, searching for what she was feeling. Would she volunteer to participate, simply stay to enjoy the show, or would she high-tail it out of here after Skylar’s associate had said such spooky things to her?

Moving on to a young Slytherin he was similarly not acquainted with, Skylar’s eyes seemed to poke and prod. The tall host would not remark upon Pyxis understandably mistaking his assistant Madam Rosetta as Skylar, for the captain knew he would realize this for himself after his self-introduction on stage. “Ah, brave soul who dares to lick the flames of our dragonfire churros… Does your soul also hunger for glory today?” Without lingering, Skylar would not press the Slytherin too hard. He had quite a bit of food there and it would be a shame for it to get cold, but the host was sure to remember whatever decision Pyxis made.

Passing alongside a young redhead interacting with Pyxis, Skylar’s eyes gleamed with a strange pleasure once entering range of the girl’s terrible presence. This type of person was one of his top favorites, and it showed in Skylar’s fearless smile. Madam Rosetta had replied that the macarons would be two galleons for a dozen – a fair price despite the grand and high-class decorations of the surrounding establishment. Rosetta would bow politely and express sincere gratitude at the girl’s purchase, including two bonus “surprise” macarons that were not labelled. The girl would discover on her own what flavors these were if she dared to bite into their mystery.

“Welcome, miss. I see you have an appreciation for the quidditch memorabilia, which are on loan from the Schnell Quidditch Museum. As a partner with that organization, I would like to offer you free admission any time you might like to visit… regardless of if you choose to participate in today’s competition.” With a curious wink, Skylar then turned away in a gust of moving air.

It seemed that Hans had not yet left the tent, and while he was still digging into his pie he would meet the questioning eyes of Skylar Breezeborne. Would he recognize the other for who he was, or was the food so delicious as to prove overly distracting? Either way, Skylar’s placid expression seemed to be examining Hans a bit more intensively than the others. It was as if he was trying to further an unspoken assessment despite not saying a word. If this related to a certain mutual “brother” of theirs was anyone’s guess. Skylar would not provoke Hans any further, leaving it up to him if he felt like joining as a knight in the competition.

Last but not least, Skylar approached Theodore Duncan. This one Valentin knew. He was not expecting him to enter today, but this was perfectly opportune. Sidling up beside the Thunderbird, Valentin’s eyes narrowed with a sultry smile.

“I would love it if you would join the competition today, Theodore.” It didn’t matter if the beater recognized Valentin, the first-string seeker, quidditch captain, and champion of Durmstrang. Valentin knew Theo from years of particularly close inspection after overhearing Greta’s chatter about him. He’d always been watching. “Then again, I wouldn’t blame you for being afraid of such a daunting series of trials. You have enough to worry about with your upcoming match, don’t you?”

Chuckling over his shoulder, Valentin walked away towards the stage once more in order to rejoin his co-conspirator in running the show. Still, even with his back turned, Theo might get the strange feeling that “Skylar” was still watching him.

“All knights-to-be, please make your way onto the stage!"

* * *

Playing as Durmstrang iNPC Valentin Schnell disguised as Skylar Breezeborne
Interacting with: @Emily Shephard, Hans Jenssen (@Archer Duncan), Theodore Duncain (@Opeila Winters), Semyon Reznikov (@Oonagh Brown), @Astra Norrick, @Pyxis Hellebore, @Piérre Marchonné, Felix Kolbeck (@Winnie Harper), and Greta Fransson (@Evelynn Decipio)

To participate in the competition, please have your character come onto the main stage in your next post. Otherwise, feel free to spectate from anywhere else in the tent and continue enjoying the abundant food and drink. After three moderated challenges, Her Majesty Queen Lucky Star (Greta) will declare the final winner in the Final Judgment phase.

All prizes are IC only. The use of crups in this thread was officially approved by the COMC professor (Sabine). The winning knight gets to in-character adopt all five crup puppies, but this is not to be seen in the same capacity as pet adoption through the official site pet system. Rather, in future threads they may not be utilized the way an official pet would be, but instead simply referred to through brief mentions instead of elaborate interactions. Your character may further redistribute the puppies at will but any recipients will still need to follow the rule set by the COMC prof that they will not be used in the same capacity as a full official site pet.

Queen Greta will, if she accepts participation and passes judgment on challengers in this thread, receive at the end:
- 1 ticket for two to the Fantastical Beasts Zoo
- 1 bottle of Italian red wine (spiked with Amortentia); this means you will gain access to our Amortentia potion for use in a date night thread (if you wish)

Please continue posting your stats, abilities, main and free action summaries, and inventory in your posts if you are participating in the competition. Thanks, and sorry for the long wait! Please post at will and Piérre will pick up later with the next moderation post.

A gregarious--and familiar--voice rose above the din, immediately drawing Greta's attention away from her conversation with Felix (@Winnie Harper). Her gaze panned over, briefly doubling back with surprised recognition and a spattering of pink rising to her cheeks when it passed over Theo (@Opeila Winters) among the crowd. Fingers rose to recognize him with a small wave, but she ultimately peeled her focus from him to give to--

"EEP~!" The sudden appearance of the boisterous and colourfully clad ringmaster (for what else could she call the flamboyant individual who appeared better suited in the role of a bard or court jester than the host of an eatery) (@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood as Valentin) had made her jump, the sudden hitch in her breath accompanied by an embarrassed chuckle and flush of rouge to her cheeks. Hands clasped together upon her chest, eyes flicking around to see how many had seen that little lapse, but returned with awe and curiosity at the mention of being the 10,000th customer.

She pointed to herself, "..me?" Then looked around as though the hand upon her shoulder meant nothing and there existed the possibility that the speaker was actually referring to someone else. "What is Lucky S--" Her gaze had swept back to the pale-haired showman, only to falter. Recognition dawned, bemusement colouring her features as she inquired in what was basically a hurried stage whisper, "... Niffywhatareyoudoing," while glancing furiously around and trying to shrink even further, the depth of her embarrassment deepening all the more.

What in the world was going on.

Her gaping continued, clearly taken in entirely by the live performance playing out right in front of her and completely taken aback about being its focus. The tent had increased at least several degrees, and if she blushed any more than she was already, she was likely to turn spontaneously into a tomato on the spot. Maybe that would have been easier. Wide eyes followed Valentin's Skylar's as they directed an exuberant actually jester-like looking youth to usher her off. She was too dumbstruck to protest, frequently glancing back over her shoulder towards the continued performance and frequently stumbling her steps as a result. Eventually, though, she would make it to the stage, looking very deer-in-torchlight and mouthing in the general direction of Felix and Theo, HELP ME.

Of course, the moment the cage of cruppies was revealed, all reticence was tossed to the wind. Greta positively squealed in delight, jumping to race towards the cage and falling to her knees at its base. Smiling widely, she spared no dignity while she pressed against the enclosure and reached as far as her limbs could go to beckon the little fluffy delights nearer.

"REALLY?!" Nearly disbelieving awe breathed towards Valentin Skylar when he revealed that they would be the first prize, anything within her reach receiving ample and generous scritches. "No, wait..." Realization dawned just a bit later. "Wait, no, can I have one? Oh, please." Eyes widened as large as saucers, brows pleading as they turned immediately then upon Felix, or Theo, or whoever else looked pliable enough among the crowd. "Oh, you play, yes?" she begged whoever met her eyes, lip jutting out with a small pout. Whether her parents would allow her to actually keep said cruppie was an entirely other matter. But that was a problem for future Greta. "You win crups, and I have one? Oh please."

She still had no idea what was going on, especially given the directions were being given in English and quite a bit of it was going over her head (eyes filled with confusion darting frequently to Felix as evidence of this), but perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. If it meant being able to play with cruppies. She didn't know zoo was, and the mention of wine went unappreciated, but this was starting to sound more entertaining than daunting. An impish little grin started to take over her features and she was steered more leniently towards wherever it was that they wanted her to be seated, leaning forward and glancing around expectantly to see who would join the fun, and clapping for those brave souls who dared to step forward and onto the stage with her.

July 18th 2024

Taking the Plunge of Courage with @Piérre Marchonné and @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood
Open to Interactions
Speech: cfa120
Thoughts: Italics

As if the events so far weren't weird enough, it sure enough got even weirder. An outstanding figure made themselves known as they made their way to the front of the tent with unmatched enthusiasm. The "Ringmaster" of the tent - may that be the overzealous wild card or the one that's orchestrated this little gathering - pranced about the environment in the same fervour Emily observed from earlier, still with a half-eaten brookie in her mouth.

In another twist, a girl among the guests was quickly ushered onto a large stage in front of them all, led by the peculiar "Skylar Breezeborne.". She could see the fear etched onto her face. Bless her. If it were Emily in her shoes she'd probably be no less terrified than she was, more to do with the fact that she couldn't keep up with such boisterous energy if her life depended on it.

Emily was trying to rationalise what was happening, swallowing the last of her brookie as everything was happening in front of her. Before she knew it again, the party organisers unveiled a cage of exceptionally fluffy animals - crup puppies as Emily had come to recognise them as.

Oh... My... Lord.

They were adorable beyond belief. That was when Emily's attention was glued in place as Miss Skylar explained everything. They'd be the first of three prizes in this sudden contest, she understood. She stood there slightly reserved as Miss Skylar raked eyes over each guest, including Emily. When Skylar's eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff, Emily's gaze darted behind her in hopes that she was looking at someone else. Nope. No doubt this whole affair was a challenge to her too.

Once she was given her space again, Emily looked between the crup puppies and the stage. They were unquestionably cute and a great excuse for Emily to reconnect with some animal friends since her first day of camp. Was it all worth it though? To go through a contest and possibly endure the disappointment and dissatisfaction of losing anyway?

Yes. Yes it was. At the end of the day it was harmless fun. Probably. Hopefully a better walk in the park than the promise of death the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts offered her if anything.

Calling out the organisers' bluff, she softly made her way to the stage. With a deep breath she felt ready. Or as ready as she could be. If living through these "trials" would end up crushing her in some way then what chance did she have at gaining strength at all?

_{Word Count: 475}

Action: Stepping onto the Main Stage

Stats: Stamina: 7|Evasion: 6|Strength: 6|Wisdom: 8|Arcane Power: 7|Accuracy: 6
Abilities: Non-Human Enthusiast |Cat's Grace

𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙵𝙸𝚃: Reducio

│ │ │

▪ 𝙴𝙽𝙲𝚈 ▪ ▪ FELIX ▪ KOLBECK ▪ ▪ DURMSTRANG iNPC ▪ SIXTH YEAR ▪

│ │ │

𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂: Reducio @Evelynn Decipio as Greta @Archer Duncan as Hans @Opeila Winters as Theo @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood as Val

What did an introvert dislike the most? Loud noises and too many people, and this fucking tent was getting far too crowded for Felix's liking, and now some loud mouth with a haircut was trying to usher more people into the tent. With a scoff Felix turned on his heel, ready to escape the hell tent until--

"Fuck! You scared the shit out of me, Greta. What're you doing here?" Despite his accusatory question, the Swede’s face would darken to a deep pink when the tiny Valkyrie threw her arms around him. She was so tiny he could have placed his chin on the top of her head.

"Oh, just a pie... I didn't know there was going to be a show." His head tilted towards the loud performer. "Are you--" He stopped, getting distracted by the adorable noises the girl was making. Felix had to bite down on his lower lip to keep himself from laughing. She reminded him of a cute little squirrel munching on her food like that.

He quickly took a breath through his teeth in response to her pleas for him to stay. "Yeah... I would rather polish the entire team's brooms and deal with the splinters than stay here and..." He paused when he felt a weird nagging feeling, as if someone very annoying were nearby, or a certain little twerp that Felix was still learning to tolerate.

"Ah, look, there's my second reason to go," he joked with Greta before switching over to Russian, "Careful with that drink, Hans, I heard people talking about spiking the food and drinks." He hadn't really, but he couldn't resist messing with him. It was his right as his elder, obviously.

It was really unfortunate for Lover Boy (Theo) that Greta was not the only one to notice his presence. When Felix turned to try to leave the tent, he caught the American drooling over at the Norwegian like she was some kind of damn pot roast. He was about to comment on the stalker's presence when a boisterous voice caused him to flinch.

Instinctively, Felix's arm shot out to grab Greta and pull her towards him to try to shield her. His grip on her shoulder would only loosen when he saw the face of their captain. "What the fuck?" Valya started to ramble on about how she was the Queen for a day, meant to judge some bullshit, and how there would be prizes.

Was Valentin having some sort of identity crisis? Why the fuck was he dressed like the main character of some muggle fantasy game or book? (Final Fantasy but Felix is too pureblood to know what that is) Was this some kind of weird team workshop where they would learn to grow past their differences and blah blah blah--

"You, sir! You look like a chap in excellent, no, peak physical condition and with a courageous spirit--"

Dear Merlin, JestVal was looking at him. Felix raised his hands as if his captain had pointed a wand towards him. "What? Me? No, I'm in terrible shape--" He tried to worm his way out of it, wanting no one's attention on him. They could stare at Greta instead; she was pretty enough for the both of them.

SCREEEEEE. HIS JACKET, THEY WERE TUGGING ON HIS JACKET. The second he stepped on the stage, his outfit was transforming into something new. He suddenly had flashbacks to the Hex Wizard game and the terrible fucking dress they had made him wear. Thank Merlin he seemed to have pants this time. He wore an ornate suit of armor made of glinting black metal with intricate silver and bronze filigree designs from head to toe. Peeking out beneath the armor was a chest piece made of blue tinted leather material.

Valentin might have been giving him a stern look, but Felix gave him one right back that said he was going to kill Valentin after this.

"Listen, you've got this all wrong--" Felix quickly said, still trying to back out of whatever this was and run for the hills. That was his plan until...

Oh. MY. GOD.

His jaw dropped when some busty chick tugged a cloth to reveal the most adorable thing Felix had seen since Greta eating snacks. He fell to his knees in front of the enclosure, his eyes practically sparkling in awe as he watched each of the crups. The Jack Russell wasn't the only one immediately smitten, because Felix had decided then and there he was going to take that dog home, and he was going to name it Pearl because it reminded him of Greta. Orphans, abandoned on the street, each piece of information plucked at his heartstrings, and it was then that he suddenly realized Valentin was intentionally baiting him into this.

Fantastic Beasts Zoo as the grand prize. That damn mastermind jerk. He was trying to set Felix and Greta up on a date or some shit. Why he had no idea, Valentin should know the Swede didn't deserve her. Neither did stalker boy, so WHY THE HELL was his captain approaching him to try to pull him on stage? Felix balled his fingers into a fist and looked away, trying to distract himself with the cruppies.

He was about to suggest to Greta that they ditch the tent and run away when he saw her large doe eyes begging. Dammit, he had a weak spot for sad eyes. His younger sisters used to use them against him all the time as kids. To add on to all of this, she was using her adorable broken English to beg stalker boy for more. Sigh, she was going to make him turn into a lame softie at this rate. With a grunt, Felix pushed himself up off of the floor and walked over to the tiny blonde. He draped an arm around her shoulder, careful not to whack her with his new armor, to pull her away from Theo and start talking in his native tongue, "I'll get you the crups, Pärla (Pearl) don't worry. B-But um... I want... This guy." Felix pressed a finger against the enclosure to gesture towards Pearl.

He wanted to flat out tell the Norwegian to vote for him without disclosing any more information to her, but that did not sit well with him. "I don't know what's gotten into Val but basically... Uh... They're making us compete for... Well, a date with you, and you get to decide who wins in the end... Vote for me and we'll both walk away with an arm full of crups, then we can just hang out all day, sound good?" Easy peasy, right?

magnificent banner by Valentin Schnell

Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Curiouser and curiouser, as the books say.

Whatever part of Hans had thought a tent affiliated with nothing less than the Hogwarts would have straightforward and completely standard intentions, he did not know, but in all honesty, the German shouldn't have been surprised when a shouting voice revealed itself from behind, announcing the events of the night and interrupting the very productive conversation about spiked drinks he was attempting to have with Felix. After an explanation of an event seemingly without the thrills Hans was so accustomed to, he was disinterested by the competition itself. Perhaps he would have left the tent were it not have been for the food... and were it not have been for the revelation of Skylar's true identity. The eyes had been the telltale giveaway. Few had Valentin's beacon of snow-white hair but no one had Valentin's eyes. They were a constant electrical storm, brewing darkness behind his childlike play. One could not except Hans to notice, especially as the Durmstrang Champion rested those eyes on him longer than the other students he had passed so carelessly. Raising one cautious brow at Valentin which seemed to say, "bear with my right here my dear sir", Hans turned his attention towards the two figures on stage he knew, as their eyes sparkled puppy-dog-like over the assembled cruppies. As the dots connected in his mind, the boy swiftly decided that oldies drama, no matter how glorified with festivities, would be more entertaining to watch rather than participate in, and frankly Hans had no idea where the brain of the young girl who would step onto the stage went.

Therefore Hans would not satisfy the fleeting heart of Valentin's fanciful whimsical desires. Not today, not even with the cruppies, which to him was no sort of bride at this period of his lfie. So perhaps the romantic would leave disappointed after no desired response was provided after his scrutinising gaze shimmering with intensity. Just like their first interaction, the German would not walk so easily into the seeker's definition for "fun". Tapping his fingers on the table in a lighthearted caper, he flashed his signature grin up at the white-haired "ringmaster" and winked roguishly, coffee eyes connecting once more with his violet storm. Finally, bringing up his butterbear in the feigning of a clink, he seemed to have said, "I know exactly what you're up to, Niffler, but I'm not that sure about joining today. Have fun with your victims and cheers!" Yet all he vocalised was, in accented English, despite having known perfectly well that they shared not one but two common languages, 'The food tastes amazing, thank you Skylar.' Before Valentin would move on, Hans continued in obvious sarcasm, 'You know, you remind me of someone from back home...' Laughing at his own "ridiculous" suggestion, he would return to his food and leave the Hell-Chaser to his visionary business, prepared to sit back and relax whenever the competition started, and prepared to place all his bets on the one and only Felix Kolbeck.

@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood as Valentin Schnell

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Calming Presence in Effect: All Entrees Affected

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A Stranger with a Familiar Face...
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As the little girl's eyes widened in surprise and seeming shock at the ringmaster's words, Pierluigi only found himself grinning even wider as he quickly spun on a heel and continued to go about his business. "Only a little... and with nothing too unmanageable..." The trill came from his tongue with ease, curling off into a conceited closing consonant.

More younger students came in, and eventually there was the one that the ringmaster fully recognized [Astra]. A lopsided grin would come her way in response to her nod, a tipping of the brim of his hat in recognition before the gaze fluttered away once more to behold the rest of the audience. Snacks and refreshments were good to have, they were good to keep the crowd, they were good to serve as a draw--even though the draw would only be increased as the events truly began.

Ah and there was the little Valkyrie now. Greta Fransson, whose name the young man knew by merit of the quidditch pitch and her reputation as the fearsome chaser that she was. Capable of toppling literal giants from their seats, the blonde "menace" entered with all the mirth of a ray of sunlight in the winter chill.

Without a doubt, now they had the components that they needed to make their little ploy get off the ground. Moving in tandem with Breezeborne, Pierluigi also swooped like a dark-winged jackdaw alongside the (small even compared to himself) girl, standing alongside but smiling appreciatively at his compatriot for taking the lead. He would substantiate the claims with his own: "A thousand, ten times indeed!" He remarked on his own aside. "Yes, yes! Come along! We have games to play, performances to have! Entertainment by both observer and performer!" He would encourage the Nordic girl to follow after him with a casual sweeping gesture, running through the tables before leaping up on the stage and offering a deep bow. "And with prizes thrown in the mix, who wouldn't want to try their hand?!"

He would offer a hand down towards Greta to help her on stage if she had needed it, leading her to one side of the stage to make room for her 'suitors' to step up and make themselves known to the rest of the audience. "You have the easy job--the judge. Or, perhaps... the hardest. It depends on how you would look at it, I suppose." Green eyes gleamed with intrigue.

As Skylar selected each new person, Pierluigi would add his remarks.

For the white-haired spiky-persona, the jester would cross his arms. "Spunky AND salty!" Light laughter peppered the air as he lightly threw his chin back to laugh. "But perhaps a soft spot beneath! Certainly holds himself like nobility--so let's see if his performance confirms or denies any of the bluster he puts out for all the world to see!"

The young girl that had been frightened off a bit by his claims that the punch was spiked (which remained to be seen...) was next up, and caused an arch in the young man's brows for a moment before he nodded approvingly. "The allure of treasure and of winning draws in all types! Another fair maiden throws her lovely scarf into the ring!" His voice was slightly lowered for dramatic effect, but he smiled and clapped nonetheless. It was a competition, after all. A competition was something that could light the torch beneath anyone regardless of their internal mantras or feelings.

As the cruppies were revealed, Pierluigi strode over with long legs and selected his personal favorite one--the basset hound--which huffed as he gently took up under the belly and supported its rear with an arm, his other arms being used to support its front paws gently. "Perhaps we should introduce our little friends as well." He said with another smile as he rocked the cruppy gently. "Our littlest friend here is named Moody. Don't let that wavering eye fool you, that golden glitter means he's always on the watch and ready to bay out when danger approaches!"

The critter would inhale shakily and then huff out exhaustedly at the fact that it was being lifted up for the amusement of the strange human touting it around for seemingly no good reason. After a moment or two more of lavishing affection on the droopy critter, Pierluigi gently placed the wrinkly mess down on the ground and gave the white borzoi puppy a few solid but gentle pats as twin tails spun around each other with delight. "Delightful Simo can chase down any rabbit with deadly accuracy--swifter than lightning or a coursing winter river thawing out in the spring, you'll be overwhelmed both by his prowess and by his sweetness! Won't they, Simo?" The ringmaster 'baby-spoke' to the white crup before a loud bark from the St. Bernard splattered a bit of slobber across the ground.

"Oh Bernice! Jealous as always!" Another deep-throated bark would emit from the large-pawed pup as Pierluigi rubbed her head to satiate her neediness. "Not always the most active are we. But always ready for a nice, solid cuddle. You might have a hard time parting with her if she gets to have her way." A chuckle at the dog's expense before he moved on once more.

The other white creature--the pink-eyed albino German shepherd--raised its head hopefully as the other cruppies were praised, opening its mouth and beginning to pant lightly with anticipation of the same before rushing over to the border of its enclosure and standing on hind legs just to get closer to Pierluigi's attention. "And let's not forget clever Einstein! Such high training potential to be found, and such a pristine white coat to boot!" Like the others, Einstein would receive a small dose of affection from the dark-clad ringmaster, and then Pierluigi would pick up the classic terrier cruppy. "And this one... she needs a name. Don't you, lil sweeeeetie...?" He rubbed noses with the tiny pup before returning her to her place.

With a return of the broad smile that spread from ear to ear, Pierluigi hummed once again as his compatriot went about to search for other takers. He himself would stand, rocking slightly back and forth on his heels with his arms behind his back, green eyes continuing to scan and observe like an all-seeing watcher. Never once did the smile fade, nor did he really permit anything to escape his eerie sights. Anything that moved was subject to his gaze.

Statistics: Stamina 7 | Strength 7 | Evasion 18 | Wisdom 12 | Accuracy 16 | ArcPower 8

Abilities:
Keen Eye • Calming Presence • Beast Master [Cat] • Cat's Grace • Animagus • Muggle Condition

Items:
Wand [Yew & Snallygaster Heartstring] | Soda | [Sharpened] Locksmith's Knife | Amortentia
[Red] Deck of 52 Playing Cards | Trenchcoat of Sneak | Much Mustachio Ring | Ringmaster's Hat
Bottle of Fina Perricone Wine