The Mischievists Closed

Maybe Slytherin did cheat in Quidditch. Maybe Alexx played a part in the cheating (the primary part, honestly). Maybe Alexx spent more time taking penalty laps than she did scoring actual goals for her team. But really, who's to say? No one was really keeping score, and goals were hard enough to acquire, so honestly, it didn't matter. It didn't matter until someone, someone nosey and impolite, called them out on it, and then it just got uncomfortable for everyone involved.

Alexx scrunched her nose at the vandalism. "Jesus..." She muttered, eyebrows cinching above her. If she were still a prefect, she'd hunt down whoever was responsible for this and making them do work detail as a punishment. Alas, however, Alexx was no longer in that position. The thought made a lump catch in her throat, and she shifted uncomfortably, not really sure how to proceed with this knowledge. Should she mark a "no" and actively lie, knowing that she was the one really doing the cheating? Or should she proudly own up to it and all of the people who she had blatched out of a game this season?

Her eyes narrowed. "Childish." She sneered, shaking her head. Childish to vandalize the school for the sake of starting trouble. Surely, it wasn't worth all of this? The person could have just come to Alexx, asked for an expose to be recorded in the Headliner, and even as a Slytherin Quidditch player herself, Alexx would have obliged, always being in the mood for chaos. The French girl would never say no to such antics, even if it targeted her own house; her own team.

Poking her tongue out from the side of her mouth, she decided to mark a firm "no" on the wall. No, Slytherin doesn't cheat. It's survival of the fittest; they're in it to win, and it isn't Alexx's fault that the people she blatches aren't strong enough to muscle through it. It isn't Alexx's fault that some people are just too weak, too slow, too little. It isn't Alexx's fault that she's good at what she does. That's not cheating, it's surviving. Those who complained would never get far in life, and then they'd be Hogwarts-has-beens. Popular in school now, working a boring office job later. And where would Alexx be? Somewhere on top, looking down on the people around her, living a glorious life because she was the one brave enough to sacrifice her dignity to get there. Pride cometh before the fall, Gryffindor.

Turning to the girl nearest, Alexx held her head high and looked at her firmly. "Are you responsible for this?" She asked with a cautious tone, accent thick beneath it. Alexx was almost sure that she was, but the girl could easily lie either way and Alexx would have virtually no way of knowing for sure if the girl was telling the truth, so the question became more rhetoric the more that she thought about it. Still, maybe the girl would answer honestly, and then there would be the debate of the century about how to define "cheating".

"Are you responsible for this?"

One girl spoke loudly enough for Buffy to hear. Seems there was trouble brewing already. Getting others to start fights over issues you didn't care was, interesting? Kind of fun. In a slimy way. Not her typical style, but it did tickle her. Buffy had just discovered why trolls troll.

Gingerly putting her book and lunch aside, Buffy slowly walked over. Not knowing who the other girl was, Buffy looked her over as she approached. Slytherin uniform. Looking very prim and proper. Maybe at the age she was starting to try impressing boys, or at least keeping up with her friends that did. Gross. Buffy had promised herself to not start doing that. And by the way she adorned and carried herself, she may also have been from money. That accent, transfer students tended to have money. By the way she spoke and carried herself, maybe she had clout too.

Mostly circumstantial bits of evidence all absorbed in a moment and outputted by her mind into a singular opinion. A flash judgement. Buffy knew little about the other girl, but she didn't like her much.

"You all love winning."

Buffy said, standing next to the sign, loud enough to make sure everyone in earshot heard. She picked up a piece of charcoal. Buffy looked in the other girl's eyes before smiling widely. She lazily tossed the charcoal in the air once and caught it. She continued,

"Vote honestly."

She telegraphed she was making an underhanded pass, before actually tossing the charcoal at the girl. It was a slow pass. With the intention clear, it would be easy to catch, dodge, or even smack away. If nothing was done, it would probably bounce harmlessly off the other girl's midsection.

[quote]Scrunching her nose up, Alexx sent a slight glare at the girl. "Everyone loves winning," She retorted. "The answer is 'no', Slytherin doesn't cheat. We can't help that we're superior." Second to Hufflepuff, she thought to herself, recalling how Reid practically decimated their entire team. Oh well, Alexx was still arguably the most feared Chaser in all of Hogwarts. They had a right to be mad; she had a gift, a true knack for injuring those around her in order to get what she wanted. Especially those clad in red and gold. With the exception being Max, of course, who she would not hurt for the life of her. He was a good prospect for an ally, someone who she wanted to keep close if she could help it. After all, he was responsible for this haircut.

No was her final answer, and that wasn't changing. "So, what, is this like a free speech movement or something? Is it meant to invoke conversations and a new train of thought, or is it just meant to provoke Slytherin students?" Not that Alexx cared, either way, everyone was entitled to their own opinion, and sure, the Headliner had some yellow journalism to show for it, but she didn't like that the rumor more or less targeted her. They could at least say it to her face.

"Well, the survival of the fittest." She concluded as she stared at the sign with intent, as if she had discovered a deeper meaning. Alexx knew that she didn't need to justify herself or anything like that, but it felt a little bit better if she didn't leave the question open-ended. Besides, not all Gryffindor students thought this way. Max and Eris would probably agree with her, to an extent.

Smiling, she fixed her posture and decided to move on. "Alexx Séverin, Editor-in-Chief of the Hogwarts Headliner, chaser for Team Slytherin, and former prefect, among many things. As you might suspect, it's my job to gather the public's opinion on school matters. That's what I do, I write opinion pieces. Some love it, some hate it, but it's honest work. And, you are?" Any chance she had to flaunt the Hogwarts Headliner, Alexx told herself. applications, when a spot did open, were space. She needed new faces, new people, new talent. The French girl felt as though it was her responsibility to train rising stars, to turn them into the next big-shot reporter for the Daily Prophet. All it took was a little luck, maybe some respect too if she could help it. Journalism, truthfully, was nasty work. Practically sinful. That's what Alexx loved most about it.

Not that she thought that this kid would give two shits about it anyway, but it was nice to get the word out. Journalism was a real thing, it was alive and well here at Hogwarts. And the Headliner was about to enter a new era, too: an era of news. There were things going on in this castle, things that these kids might not realize yet, and the Headliner had to be front and center to tell the tale. Alexx wasn't afraid of any danger, anyway. What better way than to throw herself into a fire (literally, she had done so at least twice now) if it meant getting a good story out the next day? Absolutely worth it.

Interacting with @Buffy Pfalzgraf and @Alexx Séverin

Ivy could not help but smile, amused by the carelessly scrawled sign written in charcoal on the stone wall. Whoever wrote this had guts. Perhaps she would have voted had there not been anyone else in the courtyard. While Ivy did not care how other students perceived her, she certainly cared how the professors did, and being caught in the act of what would look like vandalism did not seem like it would help her grades.

"The answer is 'no', Slytherin doesn't cheat. We can't help that we're superior."

Ivy's head snapped up, looking for the source of the noise. It was a blonde Slytherin, defending the snake house, talking to a girl with pink hair. Ivy recognized the pink-haired girl - Buffy. The two had never spoken, but it was hard to miss the mischievous girl and her vibrant locks. Ivy had noted that whenever she saw Buffy, the girl was always up to mischief. She did not usually care for troublemakers, but Buffy reminded Ivy of her younger sister, Alison, who also possessed a tendency to stir up trouble everywhere she went.

Ivy eavesdropped observed the conversation a little longer. The Slytherin girl introduced herself as Alexx Séverin before rattling off a long list of achievements and titles. Chaser for the Slytherin team, former prefect and Editor-in-Chief of the Hogwarts Headliner, huh? Impressive, Ivy had to admit, but why Buffy would want to know this, she didn't know.

It was here that Ivy decided to make her entrance. "Are you the one who wrote that?" Ivy waved a hand at the wall, a grin spreading across her face. "You've got guts. Buffy, right? I'm Ivy. And," she directed the next part partially at Alexx, "the Slytherin do cheat."

Ivy's father had played for the Slytherin team during his time at Hogwarts, and had gleefully recounted the times they'd won by cheating, much to his daughters' disgust. He would be furious to know that the Slytherin team had cheated, and still lost to Hufflepuff, the house he looked down on most.

The soft grass cushioned Dmitri's footfalls as he crested the small, grassy hill between the Care of Magical Creatures Area and the castle courtyard. He was, in fact, just leaving the said class on his way to the Great Hall for lunch. By this time, he could confidently say that he wasn't really that endeared to the idea of Care of Magical Creatures--aside from getting quite disheveled from all the dirt and grime it entailed, it was menial, physical labor--something the Slytherin wasn't really used to if his scrawny little arms and lithe build was any indication. (He was still doing exceptionally well at written homework for the class but that's beside the point)

It was on this trek back towards the castle that he saw a small group of people huddled around a portion of the castle walls. Hungry enough to hesitate, but curious enough to investigate, Dmitri changed directions and approached what seemed to be a heated stand-off between two younger Gryffindors, and one student from his house--who was vaguely familiar, even with their back to him.

The two strangers sounded quite defensive--and if you asked Dmitri for his honest opinion, shaken--while the Slytherin girl seemed to be barely restraining the urge to give the other two a vicious tongue-lashing. Reading the writing on the wall, Dmitri finally understood why.

slytherin cheat at quidditch

true / false

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vote now

Expression hardening, he strode more determinedly to the group. Arriving just a little bit to the left of and behind the Slytherin girl, Dmitri crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Now, what do we have here?" He said, announcing his presence to the group. He wasn't really backing up his housemate--on the contrary, she seemed to be able to handle herself just fine (they were just two children, Gryffindor children, at that. Easy)--so much as he was showing his denouncement of this slander to Slytherin.

Without a moment's notice, he would start to walk directly towards the two girls--stance threatening, eyebrows raised--only to, at the last second, walk past them to the writing on the wall. He'd enjoy it if he saw the girls flinch at his feint.

Bending, he picked up the single piece of charcoal on the ground and stared directly at the Gryffindor girls as he straightened. "Now here's what I think of this... accusation towards our house." Dmitri would press the black piece of burnt wood to the wall and drag it downwards, adding a mark to the "false" portion of the writing.

"One, whoever wrote this must be brave. Did I say brave?" He would raise an eyebrow. "I meant stupid." Inside, Dmitri was fuming, but he tried not to show it--on the outside, he was cool as a cucumber--cold even. 

"It's the Quidditch season, stakes are high, emotions are high, rivalries are at their peak--whoever was clever enough to write this must have readied themselves for the retaliation and overall chaos that I'm sure would come from feeding this fire. Not just Slytherin, mind you."

"Two," the raven-haired boy added another black stroke to the wall, "I'm sure the caretaker wouldn't be pleased to know the castle's seven-centuries old limestone walls have been vandalized by someone instigating a reaction from its residents; unfortunate, as I'm sure whoever wrote this must be doing quite excellent in their schoolwork--seeing as they had so much time to waste writing on the castle walls. Wouldn't want them to be suspended, because that'd be just sad." Dmitri mockingly wiped a tear from his eye before pressing the charcoal to the wall once more.

"And three, if you think Slytherin was cheating, guess again." His hand moved diagonally, black pigment staining the wall in a line. "Blatching is a foul. It is as much a part of a game as Beating a Bludger to break an opponent's flimsy little broom--as much a part of the game as a Bludger to the skull." Dmitri punctuated his words with a particularly hard press of the charcoal.

"And do you think whoever committed such fouls haven't had enough to deal with already after doing their penalty laps punctuated by the boos of a crowd of close to a thousand students? Because I tell you, I'm not a fan, but I'm sure not only is it a massive blow to the ego but an embarrassment as well." He'd look at his housemate from the corner of his eye, having remembered where he saw her. She was a Quidditch player, one of the memorable ones, at least. "I implore you to keep reminding them of the error of their actions. I'm sure they would appreciate you emphasizing it again and again." He clenched his teeth.

"Trust me, if Slytherin really intended to cheat, no one would know. No one would know until they feel our fangs right in their jugular." Behind him, a rough, thick line of black would span the rest of the drawing on the wall, Dmitri effectively crossing out most of it with the piece of charcoal he held.

Crushing the rest of the pigment in his fingers and blowing on it, he said, "We're too smart for that."

"The answer is 'no', Slytherin doesn't cheat. We can't help that we're superior."

"Wow." Buffy said softly upon hearing the end and gave a surprised look. More to the others than Alexx. To Buffy of course, this was not a mere conversation between the two, but also a performance. To allow those gathered to feel part of the conversation too. Even if they weren't taking part in it. To feel as if they were on her side of it, of course. That meant speaking, but there was more she tried to convey without words.

"So, what, is this like a free speech movement or something? Is it meant to invoke conversations and a new train of thought, or is it just meant to provoke Slytherin students?"

Cogs in Buffy's mind, honed into a machine of tormenting others, turned furiously as Alexx spoke. There were many ways of telling when you've struck a nerve. With Alexx there weren't many, but Buffy noted the sheer amount of words extracted. It of course wasn't Buffy's initial plan to start an argument, but, being ever flexible on plans she decided this would do. This might have been better anyways. It was less 'plotty' and more "mayhem". The payout was certainly immediate.

"Alexx Séverin, Editor-in-Chief of the Hogwarts Headliner, chaser for Team Slytherin, and former prefect, among many things. As you might suspect, it's my job to gather the public's opinion on school matters. That's what I do, I write opinion pieces. Some love it, some hate it, but it's honest work. And, you are?"

"Yeah, you seem like a great listener." Buffy said. Alexx's comments had explained it though. Buffy hadn't merely struck a mere nerve with the sign, but more. This may have been personal, and that was important to Buffy.

Having fun bothering them, Buffy had found there were two types of power. Or potentates, really. Those that were confident in their power, and those that weren't. The first used their power as a means to an end, and did so only when necessary. The second used power to prove to others and themselves, that they had power in the first place; in a sort of constant self justifying exercise. It was harder trying to tweak and annoy the first, but the second could be sent into all sorts of fits with the slightest of provocations. Alexx's reaction seemed to fall into the second type.

"Are you the one who wrote that?" Ivy waved a hand at the wall, a grin spreading across her face. "You've got guts. Buffy, right? I'm Ivy. And," she directed the next part partially at Alexx, "the Slytherin do cheat."

Having been introduced, Buffy bowed at her esteemed Slytherin colleague. Efforts were made to make it a gesture worthy of her counterpart. She ignored the question about responsibility of the sign for the moment. As she got back up a boy rushed between the two. By his walk, he might have been miffed as well. He was another Slytherin after all. And he may have been performing a bit himself, but with a speech. A long one. It had construction and logic to it, delivered as easily as some recite from poetry from memory. That's so Slytherin, Buffy thought to herself. Despite using and preferring terse speech, she was somewhat impressed, and somewhat bemused.

"That was great there lad. Liked the scary bit." Buffy said and gave a few weak claps. She wondered how others would take it, before continuing, "But, I know who did this." Buffy pointed at the poll and then turned to Alexx, "Should we get a prefect?" One eyebrow edged its way up, as if upping the ante. To Alexx, and anyone else for that matter. She would give them a culprit.

Interacting with @Buffy Pfalzgraf, @Alexx Séverin and @Dmitri Jones

Despite the older boy's apparent fury over the writing on the wall, he drew a long harsh line along it as he launched at the two Gryffindors, earning him an inquisitive raise of Ivy's eyebrows and a questioning, pointed look at the line.

Buffy was a lot more verbal in her skepticism, clapping weakly and telling him she "liked the scary part". Ivy had to hide a grin - Buffy really was like her sister, rebellious and rather uncaring of what her superiors thought of her.

Her brow furrowed when Buffy told the Slytherins that she knew who had vandalized the wall and asked if they wanted to get a prefect. Ivy knew it had been Buffy - the handwriting, for one, and for the other, she knew no one else who would dare to write something like this on the wall.

"But-" And then Ivy caught on. She remembered how many times she'd aided Alison in getting out of trouble and in a split second, she knew she had to help Buffy. Turning to Alexx, she arranged her facial expression into one of innocence - she had mastered this look many years ago, and there was nothing about her that would give away the truth. "I suppose Buffy's right. We really ought to report it."

Ivy didn't dare smile at Buffy when she turned to look back at her, instead conveying her excitement with a daring flash of her grey-blue eyes. "So, who was it?"