Quidditch Spectator Durmstrang vs Ilvermorny-Beauxbatons - Summer 2024

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speech • #427c9a thoughts • italics others • #ffffff

august 3rd, 2024 • date london quidditch stadium (summer camp) • location spectator • thread

Emily seemed genuine in her answers, and Ophelia found herself taking a liking to the girl. She was on the quieter side, like the Ravenclaw herself, but seemed okay with speaking to others. Unlike me. The thought had a bitter taste to it that she tried to wash away. Emily hadn't done a single wrong thing, she was just being herself.

As Emily explained that she'd entered the duelling team waitlist for Hufflepuff, Ophelia sensed that she seemed a little hesitant about the fact. As if she couldn't really believe she'd done it. The Ravenclaw smiled, completely understanding the feeling which she had felt as well. "Then you must be good at spells! I'm guessing first year wasn't as gruelling for you as it was for me."

Ophelia had gotten over the fact that she'd academically struggled in the beginning of first year a while ago. She'd consoled herself knowing that she was new to magic and spells and the entire idea, it was natural for her to need a bit of time adjusting.

There was a lull in the conversation as Ophelia looked back over at the game, observing as she'd meant to do. She recognised none of the players, but clapped and cheered along with the rest of the crowd.

Eventually, she turned back to Emily, a pleasant smile on her face. "So, how are you liking summer camp so far? Honestly, I like it much better than classes at Hogwarts." She laughed good-naturedly. "I'm so not excited for the start of second year."

interactions • @Emily Shephard mentions• @ stats • sta 7 | eva 7 | str 6 | wis 9 | arc 6 | acc 6

206 • word count xxx • outfit perfectionist, paragon of health • abilities

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Calming Presence in Effect: All Entrees Affected

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Round 2
Greta threw Valentin and like pellets fired from a shotgun his cloak fluttered like the spreading of shot through the air at light speed did the white and red blur that was Schnell hurl across the field almost as fast as the eye could track. Piérre still found himself puzzled over the exact location of the shiny item. It was weird, he was usually so very good at spotting the little thing--almost as good as some of the second string Quidditch players--but he couldn't for the life of him manage to pinpoint the exact location of this particular snitch. It must have been a quite lively one.

Crunches echoed around the field as Slava's bat took the consciousnesses of two more poor Ilverbatons victims. But, miraculously, that one boy that had initially been blatched was still somehow still caught! How in the world...?

Well Piérre didn't have much time to muse, really. He was paying more attention to the fact that the scarlet cloaks were coalescing again and that the two cheaters that were Busy Bee and Femme Fatale were now starting to return back into the fray. His brother was hollering after them on the ground, pumping his arm after them and seeming to almost spit with the force of his shouting. Romeo's gesticulations returned back to Valentin briefly, and there seemed to be a small--yet unheard to the stands at least in Piérre's ears--dialogue between them before the game entered its next heartbeats of movement.

Surely the game would be coming to an end soon... Durmstrang was so close, they just had to close out the last few moments and they would obtain the crown for themselves once more!

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 | Popcorn
[Red] Deck of 52 Playing Cards

3rd August 2024
Summer Camp Catch-Up with @Ophelia Northwell
Mentioning @Scout Fu-Hai and Casey Stone Wait, that's me too!
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics

"So, how are you liking summer camp so far? Honestly, I like it much better than classes at Hogwarts."

Well... There was a lot to unpackage there. The start of camp was promising but then that quickly devolved into a much more antagonistic relationship with Casey whom was also at camp. On top of that there was his fight with Scout which led to the two fighting. Then, fast forward a week or two and him and Emily are on the slow burner to building up a quiet but less antagonistic relationship with him. And in between all that was the various summer camp activities that have been both wonderful and weird...

So the only correct answer Emily could respond with was, "Pretty good...!" Well... She was always an optimistic so go figure.

"Heh... It will feel a little strange to be back at Hogwarts after so long, though I am quite eager for Second Year...!" That remark didn't need any sugar-coating at all. No longer would Emily need to practice spell movements with her pencil nor would she have to hide her books and cauldron in a tightly compacted cupboard when her "Muggle" neighbours would come over to visit. Not only that but she was anxious to get back to the abyss where the mystery of that strange figure was calling her. She had to get back quick so she could investigate that clearing in the forest. And that was on top of scouting the forest in hopes of learning to get closer to the dark creatures hiding in the forest's shadows.

But try telling all that to a classmate.

"It'll be a bit of a shame though," Emily continued. "I won't be able to spend my birthday back home. It's right at the start of the school term so I'll be spending it away at Hogwarts again this year." She laughed a little weakly. Though it couldn't be helped, Emily nevertheless felt bad for not being able to have "Auntie" with her again to celebrate her upcoming birthday. The curse of having one's birthday right at the start of the school year...

_{Word Count: 396}

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

It was the morning after the legendary Mistletoe Spin, and most of Aly's careful work had vanished without a trace. Most. The sleek curls of the night before had been replaced by messy braids, all the careful powders and blushes and eyeshadows and mysterious magical tinctures of the night before had been washed off. But... perhaps there was a touch of glossy shine on Dealla Prince's lips, maybe even some mascara lengthening her lashes? Who could really tell? (Aly could. Of course. And not just because Dee had stolen her lipgloss to use.)

Climbing up the stairs to the stands of the stadium was something Dee hadn't done very often in her life - really only for a handful of the Ravenclaw games, to cheer on Aly. She'd avoided Quidditch where she could, and hadn't even been very interested in Broom Racing before she'd joined the Ravenclaw team. And that had been more about getting away from duelling, from the feeling of being stuck, in a sport that didn't quite feel like hers anymore.

But what was she supposed to do, when she'd been invited by not one but two Durmstrang players in the same night? They were forcing her hand. So what if she barely knew the rules, or the positions? How many people were there on one team again? Five? Aly was a Seeker now, and she'd been a... Hunter before? Wait, no. A Chaser? And... something else before that. She did think that throwing the orange ball through the hoops was important, and also catching the tiny golden shimmery one. Weren't there also balls of death and violence? (Literally - iron balls trying to kill you, guys.)

She blinked as she stepped out into the light, leaning over the railing to look down at the pitch. Cheers went up when the players entered the stadium, and she squinted at the small figures, trying to recognise a few faces. Holy flobberworm, those were definitely more than ten people. Twelve... fourteen? Seven players per team? What did most of them even do?

As she watched, the players of both teams took to their brooms, pushing off the ground to zip into the air, and Dee watched with slightly more thought and less disdain than she would have a year ago. She'd... begrudgingly started to accept that flying was kind of cool once you got used to the fact that only a stick of wood and some hopes and dreams (also called magic) kept you from plummeting fifty-something metres to the ground. It was a different kind of freedom than what duelling had given her, the sense of being in control of herself and the situation, the knowledge that her skill alone determined the results of the match. Flying was more... climbing cliffs without a rope or safety net. Jumping into the ocean without knowing how deep it was, adrenaline and exhilaration. Feeling reckless. That sort of freedom.

She could see that the players loved it, though. See it in their faces and the way they moved. Would she ever look like that on a broom? Despite the effort she'd been putting into learning how to fly, she wasn't sure.

Dee had chosen the Hogwarts section of the stands, which was noticeably less populated than the Durmstrang or Ilvermorny stands, but she didn't mind. It was even more surprising then when one rather familiar looking Durmstrang player came surfing past where she stood, blowing kisses vaguely into their direction. Her eyebrows rose, and she snorted, a smile tugging on her lips. Flirt. He could blame Felix for their performance last night all he wanted; this was a guy who just liked attention. Still smiling, she stuck two fingers into her mouth and whistled after him sharply, a trick her dad had taught her years ago (much to her mother's displeasure). "Hey, Durmstrang!" she called, unsure if he'd be able to hear her with his broom headed back to center field. "Did you not get enough kisses last night?"

The match began, and it (quite literally) started raining men. Blinking, Dee watched as not one, not two, but four people got knocked off their brooms within the first few minutes. Two of them got caught, the other two were not as lucky. Apparently tackling people was frowned upon, as three of the players were called to do a penalty lap - but hitting the iron balls at other players with a bat was okay? Quidditch made no sense. At the same time, Durmstrang scored fifty points, and Dee leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. Not that she was an expert in Quidditch, but the Ilvermorny-Beauxbatons team seemed clearly outmatched. The Durmstrang players were... precise. Efficient. Brutal.

Her eyes tracked the three players - two Durmstrang, one Ilvermorny, it was hard to recognise them from the distance - around the pitch, then she watched more people falling - again from Ilvermorny-Beauxbatons. Apparently the penalty laps that were given out for fouls were not enough of a deterrent; sacrificing a bit of their time to take out opponent players seemed a valid strategy. Cheating wasn't really done in duelling, rulebreaks were countered by immediate disqualification, and in a sport where losing a player meant losing a third of your team, it hardly seemed worth whatever benefit you might gain. She wasn't fazed by the violence as much. Despite the ribbing and teasing going on between different sports, duelling was far from harmless. Years of setting people on fire, blasting them with water, wind, or pure force, and lately blowing up the ground at their feet had given her a strong stomach, and these kids would be patched up just the same as the ones she'd knocked out on the piste in the past.

Turning her face up, Dee blinked at the cloudy sky. It seemed that this game wouldn't take very long, even if it was only because one side would not have any players left. Were Quidditch games always over this quickly?

Whistling at Madhup Hexum (@Pericles Dralt)
Permission given to slightly godmod @Aly Salinger

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speech • #427c9a thoughts • italics others • #ffffff

august 3rd, 2024 • date london quidditch stadium (summer camp) • location spectator • thread

Something about Emily's answers made Ophelia feel as if there was a lot going on in the other girl's life. After a long hesitation, during which the Ravenclaw had drifted back to watching the game, the other girl answered, short and simple.

Emily seemed hesitant in her answer, though her voice was still bright. Odd. Oh well, it wasn't Ophelia's place to ask. It wasn't like they even knew each other well.

"Saying that I'm going into second year feels so weird." Ophelia admitted with another friendly chuckle. She'd spent so long introducing herself as a Ravenclaw first year that saying anything else felt odd. Perhaps at the end of this school year, she'd feel even stranger, telling people that she was moving on to third year. Hold up, Northwell, you're getting ahead of yourself again.

Ophelia cleared her mind by listening to the rest of Emily's speech while turning her head towards the game. She said something about birthdays at the beginning of the year and missing home, both of which the Ravenclaw could relate to easily.

"Yeah, I have a beginning of the year birthday too. Just eight days after the school year starts." Ophelia sighed. She'd just been settling in during her birthday in first year, so she hadn't gotten to celebrate. But this year, she wanted to do something with her friends. She offered the same idea to Emily. "Maybe you could celebrate with friends? Hogwarts is home away from home, after all."

The Ravenclaw really didn't believe the saying just yet, but she'd heard other people saying it and knew the appeal of Hogwarts and its magical life.

interactions • @Emily Shephard mentions• @ stats • sta 7 | eva 7 | str 6 | wis 9 | arc 6 | acc 6

231 • word count xxx • outfit perfectionist, paragon of health • abilities

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Nikolai's celebration had gone perfectly to plan and all around Durmstrang students roared with fiery gumption alongside him. Though through all the joyous celebration one sound pierced through and drew his eyeline off the game and down into the lower stands where he was faced with a most unsettling presence. The boy below was a tall yet thin figure with black hair that was styled seemingly to cover part of his face under which a strange eye seemed to peak out while the boy curled over in a fit of laughter. Clearly the celebration had caused him some great deal of amusement and while he was sure the aim was to demerit or embarrass the young Russian Nikolai felt nothing but joy. Elation was a sweet taste and nothing he felt could sour it while Valentin was in his glory.

As he met the stare of his one snake green eye there was a recognition somewhere deep inside like somehow despite having never met there was a knowing between them. Upon the boy's use of Russian the feeling of unease only deepened and a dark coldness ran through Nikolai's spine quelling the flames that ran up his throat. It was as if his very own father was staring back at him and yet the notion was proposterous and likely just a side effect of the delerium. Shaking off the gravely touch he took the boy in a moment more before speaking.

"Laugh all you want, if showing team spirit makes me a durak then fool I shall be, at least I will be a winning Durak! Guess you should have supported your own, comrade." he said face curled in a taunting sneer that hinted at the mischievous nature of the boy. However, there was a cruel linger to the final word born from rivalry, many Russians attended Koldovstoretz due to Stalin's restrictions but his family had been proud to step away and that had landed them firmly in Durmstrang. Knowing he didn't recognize the boy, who could barely be older than himself if even, it was clear where his families loyalties had cowered during that period. Nikolai may not support his family but their choice to never reject magic was a stance even he couldn't fault them for.

Suddenly the crowd erupted in uproar and shooting his eyeline up he saw from the screen that the white star had just missed his golden target. Eyes turning stormily dark he returned his gaze to the unsettling boy and in his mother tongue he spoke low with a chill that cooled the very air around him, не отвлекай меня больше Do not distract me again When Nikolai wanted to, he was still more than able to tap into the darkness that plagued his household and now it was all bearing down directly into his one visible eye that shimmered an emerald green he wished to snuff out. This was his first quidditch game and he was not about to let a stranger ruin it for him.

Mentioning the Durmstrang Quidditch Team
Specifically Mentioning: Yasha Volkov @EmmaLee LeDames

3rd August 2024
Birthday Revelations with @Ophelia Northwell
Mentioning @Scout Fu-Hai
Speech: #cfa120
Thoughts: Italics

With all the yapping and slightly over-explaining she feared she was doing, Emily found it strangely nice to stop and let Ophelia talk. She found herself relating to the similar sentiment she had. It felt like a bigger step than it was to transition from First Year to Second. Emily didn't feel any older or wiser, though to grow up so quickly also didn't sound so appealing to her.

As she sat and listened to her new Ravenclaw buddy - the sounds of the game now nothing but a thing of memory - she suddenly clicked with the idea she had whipped up. "Spending time with some friends would certainly make this year's birthday a bit more meaningful...!" Emily remembered spending her birthday alone last year. With only a week into a brand new school year where no one knew each other, it was hard to enjoy the day where she didn't spend it with anyone who really knew her that well. This year would be different. She now had friends to spend time with, inside and outside of class. Perhaps she could convince Scout to spend an hour or two with her if she wasn't too busy? Or maybe one of her friends from Hufflepuff...?

The thought of having much needed company when she would be away from home on her big day was already filling the returning Hufflepuff with sweet energy. It would certainly bring a bit more light to the occasion, if anything - if she could help it.

Actually, didn't Ophelia just say something similar...?

"Yeah, I have a beginning of the year birthday too. Just eight days after the school year starts."

"Pardon me... But did you say eight days?" Emily repeated. "Because if so then... me too...! My birthday is on the 8th of September too...!"

_{Word Count: 335}

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

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speech • #427c9a thoughts • italics others • #ffffff

august 3rd, 2024 • date london quidditch stadium (summer camp) • location spectator • thread

Ophelia had never been one to spend every minute of every day with people who weren't her family. The number of sleepovers she'd had were limited, and the amount of time she spent at parties were less than everyone else. But even she, the antisocial, not people loving Ravenclaw, wanted someone to spend her birthday with.

It was tradition in the Northwell family household to spend the day before the person's actual birthday together, as a family, but the birthday with friends, celebrating. At least, that was how it had been until Ophelia and Felix had started Muggle school. They'd always been at school on their birthdays and the days before. Still, they'd found a way to keep the tradition alive, in one way or another. But now? Ophelia was in Hogwarts on her birthday, away from her family. The only way she could keep the tradition alive was to spend the special day with friends, which she'd failed to do in first year.

All thoughts of the Quidditch team, and the real reason for why she was sitting in the stands watching, were out of the young Northwell's brain almost as soon as Emily told her that they had the same birth date.

"Wait. My birthday is on September 8th." Ophelia paused, then realised that she'd repeated back to Emily what she'd just said. Blinking quickly, she tried to undo her mistake. "I mean- what I meant to say was... We have the same birthday? That's amazing. Someone else to understand my pain." She laughed a little, then regretted it. Seriously, what would the Hufflepuff girl think of her?

interactions • @Emily Shephard mentions• @ stats • sta 7 | eva 7 | str 6 | wis 9 | arc 6 | acc 6

242 • word count xxx • outfit perfectionist, paragon of health • abilities

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Roleplaying as Hans Jenssen

Cheering alongside the wide-eyed and ever so zealous Nikolai for Greta as the Valkyrie scored fifty for the Institute in the mere first round of Quaffle throws, Hans could not help but appreciate the deliciously carnivalesque atmosphere of the stadium audience. Yet henceforth the attention of the Durmstrang boys were set on their glorious seeker in his pursuit of the Snitch and, bless him although it came to no surprise, Schnell had found it and had confirmed such with three delicately mouthed words in Russian, while his competitor lost miserably in comparison. Of course though, violence always turned eyes, and soon enough the Beaters would be in movement. Hans would turn his own eyes to see Slava having both hit and been hit, while a boy he was not acquainted with took the Bludger for Valentin. Moving his attention to the next dose of scheduled action as Amina and a dark-haired boy both took penalty laps, Hans refocused to Valentin once more, who, now accompanied by Greta, having left her post as Beater, failed at securing the golden target. Despite the comparably less thrilling of of round, Slava did catch Hans' attention with another well-placed Bludger, this time hitting not one but two of the opposing team mates. The match would past in a blur such as this, in which Hans would attempt to closely follow each shred of action provided to them through the screens. And of course, despite this being a Hogwarts hosted event, there will be no drama at all.

Yet his attention was once more taken away from the previous target when Nikolai (bless or damn his little dragon heart Hans could not have said), placed two draconic horns upon his head and smeared his face with red war paint, almost in mimicry of Astrid's. After all, starting from that fateful day in the Durmstrang dorms, Nikolai would forever reside in Hans' heart as the little dragon wannabe. Yet even he was taken aback when the boy drew out a pack of Pepper Imps and blew fire after having popped one in his mouth. Laughing at the sight, Hans drew closer towards his classmate to say, 'Woah, Nikolai, talk about over-the-top!' Yet it seemed as if the German was not the sole spectator laughing, for when he turned, following the Russian, his gaze landed on a boy curled over in a fit of chuckles, amusement tinging his voice as he taunted the blond's celebration. While Nikolai first retaliated with similar sass, it became evident that he would not not hesitate to follow his family into the darkness when necessary as his voice lowered into an icy Russian.

'Hey there, buddy,' Hans said after having spectated enough for the day, pushing past the Vol'ka and leaning in towards the Volkov, gaze not a bit flinching at the one piercing green eye showing under his fringe. His tone was kept at the level of perfectly amiable advice, yet the derogatory message he intended with the final word was clearly conveyed. 'Maybe, like, steer clear of trouble?' he continued, as if this proposition was aimed at a bumbling primary school student rather than the black-haired Koldovstoretz wizard sat entitled in front of him. 'It's two against one, and y'know...' he lectured in a dramatically accented Russian, before coming to a stop at a dramatic pause, accompanied by the taunting raise of a brow and his signature devilish smile, meant to left whoever was on the receiving end to wonder if his next words would be in sincerity or not. Sharing a rascally glance with Nikolai, the German said, feigned innocence made evident, 'We could come burn your house down, ссыкло¹.' The final word was emphasised with especial potency as he leaned away from his fellow spectator, for from a young man disgusted by fear, the term implied far more than just one lucklustre insult of "coward". Casually, features relaxed in a mask of fun and games, Hans reached into the bag of pepper imps Nikolai had so ebulliently used, and popping one into his mouth, blew the resulting fire onto the Russian's fair and youthful face without hesitation. As the flames passed, he inclined towards him once more, and, gently tapping him on his singed nose if he was not to flinch away, finished as his face and tone hardened, 'Seems like a totally reasonable suggestion, hm?'

Wow, he was already loving this boy. Or this little piece of Koldov shit, word choice is yours.

@Matthew Campbell as the Little Dragon Wannabe Nikolai and @EmmaLee LeDames as Yasha Volkov