Skyborne Scuffle Kerfuffle | PV Group

Without a second's moment of delay, the game had begun. As soon as their referee had wished them to keep their lives, Archer felt as if he was losing his.

The commencement was the usual song and dance of quaffle grabs and shoots, and where Archer, being the Keeper of the team, displayed his skill or, moreover, lack thereof. Thrice did Odilon, the opponent Keeper turned impromptu Chaser he did not quite know, shoot for his three goals, and twice did he win. It was the second time that he did not, when Archer had reminded himself of lessons learnt and positioned himself just where it encouraged the boy to shoot one way, before pivoting out towards the other.

Eventually, they ended with twenty against twenty, and Archer shot Percival a flash of pride.

Then, as the age took a stark turn, Archer understood what blood, guts, and glory meant, especially the former two. Bludgers must have been for the weak, for Silas Norwood, as one could have expected from such a boy of his reputation, decided to choose a method of foul instead. Not slinging a ball over his head but lunging straight towards Archer, Silas proved that Quidditch harboured more dangers than even a sport as martial as duelling when he hurtled straight into him.

The wind was bitter today; it seemed to have a grudge on him as it whipped at his hair and down to the hems of his robes. Tears lined the bottom of his eyes, and squinting, he barely managed an evasion. Eventually, he would be facd with failure, and in response, Silas pressed against him, a boy advantaged in strength. After all, Archer had always been a thin child, and now that he had grown taller, that had never meant he had muscled out. “Norwood,” he breathed bitterly, “You cheat.”

Archer hissed as he fell, sucking the oxygen out from his fast descending air. In that moment, he seemed to know for certain: he was going to die, and it would be the most hilariously pathetic death ever. Although a ridiculous notion of sheer madness, that could have been said again to a falling Archer. Soon enough, their moderator and his mafia Godfather, Piérre Marchonné sent a slowing charm his way and he, with a hoist at the last second, touched the ground safely.

But how were his teammates going to play without a Keeper?

He had never imagined he would know what Icarus felt, yet now, dramatically lying on the wet grass of the Scottish field, he did. He had most certainly not laughed. Instead, shame rose up his cheeks to have been beaten so soon and so easily by an underclassman. He had landed in a kneel, then allowed his body to release the tension as he sprawled himself across the field, It was true: perhaps Prat Pass was a prodigy at both, but his niche laid with his half-baked duelling successes. Turning his head to the side and groaning with the same melodrama as Muggle football players, he pushed himself up and bit out a complaint, “What the actual hell is this sport?”

. . .

❦ ❦ ❦

. . .

The bludgers flung from their encasements, barrelling towards the players at blinding speeds as Pierre flung the quaffle skyward. In a split second, Odi seemed to see the pitch in slow motion as he looked across his team. Livia was still running laps after her cheating attempt- something he felt he would’ve pulled off more clandestinely.

As a matter of fact, Odi felt like he could’ve been a lot more effective as anything other than a keeper. It hadn’t been his bailiwick when he was on the Gryffindor team. Perhaps it was time to take some initiative.

The quaffle reached it’s peak and started to slow, and Odi went for it.

Weaving on his broom past the shapeless form of his fellow players, Odi’s face bloomed into a cocky grin as he met the opposing keeper, a pallid Slytherin with long flowing hair. Odi raised an eyebrow roguishly. “You wanna dance, pretty boy?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he slammed the quaffle past him and into the hoop.
“YES!” Odi let out a triumphant roar and drove his fist into the air.

The hubris that washed over him was intense, like a shot of adrenaline to his synapses. When the next round began, his choice was clear. He went straight for the quaffle once more and soared straight towards the Fair Players’ goal. In his periphery, he saw a brunette girl swim into view and snatch at the leather ball.
“Let go!” Odi hissed, wresting the ball from her grip. He held the ball against the opposite side of himself so she couldn’t reach it, only to find that such an attempt was futile. Quick as a flash, a first year on the other side of him had grabbed up the quaffle and was darting towards the other goal- The one Odi was supposed to be defending.
The victory was easy, and the cheer from the opposition was humiliating.

On the third tossup, Odi managed to score another goal for his team, but it would be folly to act like the rug-pull hadn’t rattled him.

Action: As strategised
Position: Keeper
Mentioning: @Livia Machavariani @Archer Duncan @Rosaline Everhart @Percival Rocier

Reducio

Stats: Stamina: 5 |Evasion: 6 | Strength: 8 (10) | Wisdom: 5 | ArcPower: 8 | Accuracy: 8 (10)
Part Veela | Broken Broomshaft
Cleansweep 7
Stat boosts in brackets

♕- After classes, Sept. 22nd, 2025 | Quidditch Training Pitch, Hogwarts -♕

An aerial Alphonse was an unfortunate nature to encounter—as were his best lads and the hellspawn youth that made up team Gang Gang.

The moment the pair of cast-iron balls followed by the quaffle took to the skies, the Haitian boy's interest was lured in seemingly all directions as everyone dispersed into action—everyone except for a particular Caribbean-bred teen who adopted a cool, confident poise. Leaning low and perching comfortably against the wooden handle of his beloved Silver Arrow, his decorum remained akin to a panther on the prowl, coiling to strike from above. Silent and camouflaged to the background as mayhem unleashed at Pierre's call, a fleeting amusement presented itself as his lips contorted into a devillish smile while eyeing the opposing team with a hunger.

Instinctively, the grip upon his beater bat tightened as the seconds ticked by upon the game's commencement. Alphonse's countenance reeked of boyish insouciance while making a point of not reacting too much to the pandemonium raging within the Quidditch Pitch; instead his mind hyperfocused on the team's strategy as predetermined before taking air.

A pair of oak-brown eyes scanned the mayhem before zeroing in on his prey—a girl whose name was unbeknownst to the Gryffindor, but nonetheless appeared like an easy target to pick off early on. With a prime target located, Alphonse was like a shark to blood—a single whiff up his nose, and the pubescent teen refused to lose the scent. Chasing after a bludger with newfangled speed, the boy aimed his killshot in her [Isa] direction with finesse.

Rather than make contact with his selected target, the bludger would connect with a boy instead, knocking him wayward from his broom. It wasn't the Haitian's intended target, but it was enough to satisfy to hunger in his belly.

——mentions. @prat pass, @odilon wilde, @piérre marchonné, @silas norwood, @livia machavariani, @oonagh brown, @olivia williams
——position/actions. beater; as strategized.

Broom: Silver Arrow (+3 to all stats)
Stats: Stamina 6 (9) | Evasion 10 (13) | Strength 10 (13) | Wisdom 7 (10) | Arcane Power 1 (4) | Accuracy 10 (13)
Abilities: Charmer, Evasive Maneuvars

Oonagh grinned at Silas, them both focusing on dragging Livia through the mud- "Whoa she be attacking ye? Must ha'e been unprovoked, with how ye be such an upstanding fowk yersel, whit a ####ing hag," her voice bounced between playful and mock serious, enjoying herself at the expanse of the other girl. "Whit? Thir words was meant to mean stuff?!" Her gaze narrowed in on the other girl as if she was an alien, totally convinced she had been sprouting gibberish from her mouth.

Her grin spread even more at the name of the team name and how it came to be, before she pushed herself into the sky and started off with a loop, that had her flying with her head glancing toward the ground. "Aye, braw name," she agreed, and then she was off.

As she took control of the sky, her mind momentarily blanked when Livia moved in her field of vision, and Oonagh narrowed her eyes. She was an odd one for sure. A 'robot' Silas had aptly called the girl, definitely somewhat alien. She did not behave like a person their age should. She seemed more like someone pretending to be human; and who was Oonagh to blame for developing such thoughts? After all, apparently witches and magic were real too, so who could blame the momentary thought that perhaps aliens or robots could be too?

It felt like only a moment had passed, however this short moment had been the moment her attention had been required. Instead of connecting with the bludger, her bat had frozen mid-air in thought as her brain scrambled herself on the notion of what-ifs. "Sh#t," she hissed, as she was left embarassing herself, however that just fueled her anger and it was not her fault that something about that girl seemed creepy! Oonagh swore she would not let that creepiness distract her again though, and instead vowed to be twice as efficient now.

Her grip around the bat tightened, as her gaze pierced the Quidditch field to gather herself before her next move.

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FEARLESS | LOVELY CREATURE | EVASIVE MANUEVERS

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Prat had no doubts on the roudy squad he has picked up, just by the overall jumble of different behaviours they possessed one would feel the vibe of mad dogs or rather dwelling cryptids set free into the world more than they would consider it a squad.

Oogie was a monster, her failing to hit her target was like monsoon in draught, while prat hadn't met Silas for a long time than briefly noticing the boy's presence and then some, the boy had a weird vibe to him, like that of a rat turned human who decided his end goal was bringing back everyone personal plague back to them. It wasn't even behaviour, just how he looked instigated that thought in Prat's mind.

Livia, his fellow quidditch captain was as wonderful as ever, looking like the poster child for HRs and Alphonse was the poster child for nepotism..

Prat couldn't prove it but he was sure Alphonse belonged to either sarai, oziel or that bald headed freak in comc, he just couldn't prove it and regarded sarai with enough respect to ask her outright.

Well, sadly the other person he knew was already out, olivia was a personal addition to the team that did not make it beyond Round 1, prat was quite sad about it, but you gotta break some eggs to make an omelet something something, he didn't know. He liked jam and bread.

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[ sta ] 06 09 [ eva ] 09 12 [ str ] 06 09 [ wis ] 07 10 [ arc ] 07 10 [ acc ] 10 13 | SILVER ARROW +3

@Odilon Wilde @Alphonse Toussaint @Oognah Brown @Livia Machavariani @Silas Norwood @Olivia Williams @Piérre Marchonné

Oonagh deduced that Livia had attacked Silas and he nodded solemnly. “Completely unprovoked. Can’t imagine wha’ could’ve caused ‘er ter do such a thing. I think she migh’ be a bi’ unstable, ya should watch out fer tha’ one.” "Whit? Thir words was meant to mean stuff?!" Silas shrugged. “I dunno, means nowt ter me.” It sounded like gibberish to him, too. But whatever, now was time for the game.

Silas hadn’t played Quidditch before and it was only recently that he had even learned about it. But once he had a decent enough understanding of how to fly, it didn’t seem that hard. It was more or less just like any other sport, except for the giant metal balls flying around them, but every sport had its quirks. He took a second to assess what was happening, and then decided to just go in for the kill. Why not? Unlike others, though, he didn’t have a bat, so his body would have to do. Were there rules? He supposed it didn’t matter even if there were. What was the worst they could do? Take him out of the game? It wasn’t like this was even an official match.

But who would be his victim? He glanced between his opponents and eventually settled on a familiar face. It seemed Archer was having a little too much success preventing Silas’s teammates from scoring. He saw bodies already falling to the ground around them — what was another? Mind made up, he flew at the unsuspecting boy, crashing into him. In the brief moment before Archer was forced to give in and release his broom, they exchanged a few words. “Norwood. You cheat.” Silas smirked, feeling a sense of elation. “It’s no’ personal, Archer. Jus’ doin’ what I ‘ave ter do.”

He watched the boy fall without the slightest hint of remorse. The referee — or whoever that older boy was — called Silas out for the foul and he just grinned, laughing as he began flying around the pitch as instructed. That wasn’t a particularly bad penalty, all things considered. He used the time to evaluate what the results of the first few moments of the game had been, and his gaze slid to Oonagh, who didn’t seem too happy. Come to think of it, he didn’t recall seeing her actually hit any of the balls. “I thought ya said ya were good at this,” he called tauntingly as he passed her. He was sure he would probably pay for that later, but… later wasn’t now.

Taking a slow lap in a wide berth around the area, Piérre tried to catch as much of the action as he could. There was so much going on, though, and due to the game being the way it was by nature of its play and also because he was the only person with eyes on, he was likely going to miss something or other...

DEBUFFS

Sure enough, Rosaline got a wild hair and came at Prat's side, trying to throw out an elbow to throw his balance. It was as if Prat saw it coming, though, and with a quick maneuver he was entirely free of the possibility that she would elbow him. The movement was so smooth, however, that Piérre only saw the interaction as a close ride near each other--as if Rosaline was simply trying to hinder Prat's sights for just a moment... as opposed to committing an outright foul.

It all looked legal in his eye, as far as he could tell so far.

QUAFFLE GAME

The quaffle game was still going strong for both teams, neither side seeming to be willing to allow the other to score points without significant effort on their parts! It was Percival against Odilon in this instance, but unlike last time it seemed that Odilon was more than ready to rise to the challenge, snatching from under Percival's nose the quaffle on every single occasion.

Scoring was a slightly different matter, and while his first, third, and fourth scores were a nice and simple toss-in due to Archer's absence, on his second attempt something ended up misadjusting his aim so as to result in a total whiff and on the fifth attempt--perhaps in an attempt to make up for his failure just a bit earlier--he passed the quaffle through the hoops not only once but twice. Piérre smiled slightly. "That's FIFTY points for Gangang as Odilon confidently abandons his hoops once again!"

BLUDGERS & BLATCHERS

Alphonse continued his vicious streak, sending a bludger towards Frederick even as Frederick was trying to deal with a failed swing and misplaced bludger sent by Avery that was heading his way (a series of events that alongside the sheer menace of the vicinity that was Livia had caused his own attempt to mark a bludger for Silas to terribly fail). Though he managed to evade his teammate's wild shot (albeit barely), he was not quick enough to elude Alphonse's blow and just as Leo had been before him, his lights were out almost instantly.

Piérre was quick on the draw, though: "Arresto Momentum!" Another rude 'jerk' of a deceleration spell, and Frederick would be left senseless on the ground. The bodies were really starting to pile up...

Meanwhile, Prat once again dinged another player, this time Isa, who was hovering below and just above the ground in anticipation of her teammates potentially falling. She would be left with a nasty injury from the blow, but she--like Rosaline before her--was still flying... for the time being. Rosaline couldn't say the same for herself as Oonagh sent a bludger that had Avery's name on it. After crashing into Avery, it sped towards Rosaline, clipping her neatly and sending her toppling from her seat and towards the ground.

RECOVERY

But while Livia and Silas finished off the last few meters of their penalty lap, Isa swooped beneath Rosaline and managed to save her moments before she hit the ground.

"FAIR PLAyers are down quite a few in the way of numbers! Is there any way they can turn this around on GANGGANG?" Piérre shouted. "Come on now! Show me what you can do!"

You have SEVEN DAYS from the timestamp of this post to post for the next round & send me team actions!

For continuity, all ability triggers occur on the HIGH end of the dice roll (eg; 10s, 19-20, etc.).

Team Gangang /Gang gagn / Gang Aang

Fair Players

date: 22^nd september 2025
time: —:—
location: hogwarts duelling club, scottish highlands


Her lap about the pitch gave Livia a prime vantage point with which to peruse the happenings of the game. The wind buffeting her face and bringing burning tears to her eyes distracted her from the quips of Brown and Norwood – they were hardly creative, employing insults that could only be engineered by imbeciles. That Norwood followed her on the penalty lap only irked her further, but she just flew faster, shooting the most bored of dagger-glares at anyone she flew near.

Finally, she ceased the circular motion of the penalty lap and guided her broom back to the pitch. That the bludger aimed for Norwood had wildly missed disappointed her, and it was this that finally made the corners of her lips tug downwards in an almost-frown. Watching a heavy ball of iron wham into him at full speed would have been exhilarating, and perhaps an even more grandiose occurrence would have been if it had knocked him from the sky. That it hadn't? It was simply the most sorrowful shame.

However, as she surveyed the rest of the pitch, it appeared the other team was a bit worse for numbers than her own. Even if she remained forced to deal with Norwood's and Brown's impeccably horrendous existence, she supposed victory was a decent consolation.


action: as strategised
position: chaser
stats, abilities & broom:

round 2
•—————————————•

She messed up. And badly. There was a reason my she wasn't a beater in actual Quidditch. Though she was strong, she wasn't trained in the ways of the beaters which made her dangerous. Instead of bludgering the correct person, she ended up ricocheting to her own teammate, Fred. She slapped her hand over her face for a moment in embarrassment.

She shouldn't have let her guard down. At that moment a bludger slammed into her body. Pain filled her, but she managed to stay conscious and on her broom. Her grip like iron though her body was wracked with pain.

Once she regained her bearings, she watched in horror as her team dropped like flies around her and only one was out on the other team. This was bad. Worse than she had expected. She had to get her team back together or there wouldn't be a FAIR PLAyers in the coming rounds.

She took a deep breath and refocused herself. Ignoring the stabbing pain she felt from the bludger as she prepared herself for the next round. She had to do it this time. She couldn’t mess up again. People were depending on her. Her team was depending on her.

•—————————————•
action: as strategised