The Watchers Quidditch Spectator Thread

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It wasn't that Katrina hated Quidditch. In fact, she respected anyone who was brave enough to play the sport. That being said, she was not at all a fan of heights, or brooms, or anything to do with danger so far from the ground. Honestly, the only reason that the graduated second year was here now was because she had nowhere to go and no place to call home. She still tried to look excited or at least somewhat interested in the game because she was sure not looking excited would offend people. She didn't even know any of the people that would be playing.

There were so many people. The instant the quiet introverted girl had come near the stadium she already felt anxious. So many wizards, so much that could go wrong. Katrina played with the wand in her pocket, hoping having it around would help her feel more secure. As she found a seat, thankfully in a section that hadn't been filled yet, she had to not look down. This was not going to be an enjoyable game for her. She was so far from the ground and she didn't even know the first thing about Quidditch. Why am I even here?

Katrina stared at the sky. The lights for the stadium were too bright and you could only see a handful of stars. Still, looking up calmed her nerves enough that she felt better about not throwing up. The sky, the patterns and paths that she endlessly traced in her mind. Then her thoughts came roaring back to the height as someone screamed for Hufflepuff.

It was suffocating hot. There were too many people. Yelling. Cheering. It was all too much. Breathe Kat just breathe. You can do this, I can do this. Just breathe. The girl bent down so her head was resting on her legs. She steadied her breathing, sitting back up and crossing her arms and squeezing almost as if she were hugging herself. To any observer, it was obvious that she was doing something weird. To one who knew, she was on the brink of a panic attack. Stupid heights and people.

There was no one she recognized here. Shouldn't she sit with someone? Or should she leave? Could she leave, was it even allowed? She could do this, right? BREATHE. Eventually, the panic passed and she was back to just afraid. Katrina took out her journal and began writing. Pouring her thoughts and her fears and everything down. Her series of events probably looked weird to the outside viewer. But to Katrina, it was all she could do not to burst into tears and run away.

Outfit (and hair)

Interacting with @Cassandra Ironwoods
Mentioning @Mars T'ien

Interacting with @Katrina Walker

As Paisley sat watching, a wave of red hair caught her attention. She glanced over and saw a girl, perhaps a few years older than her, bent over taking deep, shaky breaths. Instantly, she knew the look.

When she’d been younger, perhaps from the time she was 5 to 9, the girl had been prone to night terrors even though her parents had never known. They weren’t the kind that would make her sit up screaming. No, true to her quiet nature she’d wake up with a start, sitting straight up like a plank with sweat dripping down her forehead. Her heart would race like the galloping of a race horse, furiously speeding down the track to a victory she didn’t know the point of. She’d shake and cry and take deep, deep breaths. Eventually, her adrenaline would come crashing down, pushing her back into the throws of sleep.

There had been many sleepless nights when it didn’t force her to close her eyes.

Wordlessly, the Bellweather girl got up and scooted down the bleacher until she was next to the girl. She probably just assumed that someone had plopped down unassumingly. Paisley reached into her small backpack and pulled out a pair of noise canceling headphones. It probably seemed like an odd thing to have on hand, but it wasn’t the first time the girl had attended one of these events. The noise didn’t push her into a panic attack, but it did annoy her a great deal.

Reaching up, the future Slytherin popped the headphones snug over the girl’s ears, who had taken to writing furiously in a journal. Once she was done, she sat down and wordlessly ate some more popcorn, watching the players fly by, soaking in the cheers.

Interacting with @Katrina Walker and @Paisley Bellweather
Open for interactions!

The big day was finally here! Durmstrang and Hogwarts were set to face off at the epic London Quidditch Stadium in the biggest match of the year and Margo felt... well actually, she felt a bit ill. However, fear of flying and nerves aside, she was practically twitching with excitement — and she hadn’t even consumed any sugar yet!

Margo pushed her way through the crowd, too accustomed to people in order to pay anyone much mind. She had to get a good seat, otherwise she might not see Slava... The Hufflepuff Team in action. But, ever the spontaneous little bird, Margo became distracted. A familiar redhead caught her eye, and she started to make her way towards Katrina Walker, a smile on her face and her Hogwarts posters clasped loosely in one hand. However, the girl didn’t look like she was in a state to greet familiar acquaintances. Margo’s frown deepened as the Gryffindor hunched forwards and a young girl rushed to her side.

She knelt on Katrina’s other side, reaching a hand out to touch the girl’s back but thinking better of it and letting it hang limply by her side. ”We’re still under the stars, Katrina.” She murmured hesitantly over the din. ”We’re still free to dream... there’s just a few more people than usual dreaming around us.”

Margo had no idea if her words would help, and luckily any future aid was rendered impossible by the headphones the young girl placed over the Gryffindor’s ears. ”You’re a genius.” Margo breathed. ”You rooting for Hogwarts in the game?”

Open to Interactions || @Paisley Bellweather and @Margo White

Katrina wrote furiously in the journal. So hard, in fact, that it tore a hole through the pages. It had only been a few hours since she wrote in it so there wasn't much to talk about. The same old topics that she mulled over and had thought about so much that they meant nothing. Fear. Lack of sleep. Confused feelings. Panic. Blossomball. Summer. The same things, handwriting so sloppy even she could hardly read it. Anything to distract the tortured girl from her fear of heights, and people, and noise, and screams.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to subside the throbbing, pounding headache. Her eyes were wet with tears she refused to let fall. Her breaths weren't doing enough. Her lungs not getting enough oxygen. Everything was going to shut down. She was going to faint. So much for Gryffindor bravery. Why was it always her?

There was a voice, but it was lost to the roaring crowd. Stars? Why was someone in the Quidditch Pitch talking about stars? The bench moved a fraction of an inch when someone sat down next to her. The movement and the mention of stars startled the progress of her unconsciousness. Then the world plunged into quiet. Her eyes were still closed. Katrina wondered if she had went into a coma. Where her mind was awake but she was unconscious. But no, then she would be able to hear. Katrina forced her eyes open, blinking rapidly as the bright light of the setting sun and the stadium lights burned her retina. It was calm and quiet. Nothing could hurt her here.

In confusion, Katrina turned to see a girl, a bit younger eating popcorn beside her. The girl's shaky hands went up to feel something covering her ears. She pulled at it and it came off the noise of everything around her coursing and causing her breath to catch in her throat. She realized that the thing in her hand was noise cancelling earphones. Katrina pushed them back over her ears, sinking back a bit in the chair. It was quiet again. She was able to look at the girl again, the quiet around her muffling everything. The loudest screams sounding as if they were far away. Katrina realized that she could actually look around some with them on. Not looking down, of coarse. But she could look around.

It was amazing. Katrina felt her breathing returning to normal. Her heart slowing to a regular pace. The headache dulled to a tolerable throb. She could even look around and take in the sheer number of people. Then she turned to see Margo. A hint of puzzlement crossed her features. When did she arrive? Her mind was fractured, disconnected segments. It took a lot of effort to piece everything together even though she had calmed a bit.

Katrina turned back to the girl who Katrina guessed had given the earphones, "Thank you," the words were probably lost to the roaring crowd since she had no gauge of how loud her voice was, but the gratitude would still reach the girl Katrina was sure. A twinge of embarrassment brought a tint of pink to her cheeks. She was a third year now, shouldn't she be able to cope with a noise and heights? The answer was no, no one could easily cope with panic attacks.

Katrina slid the notebook away, tucking in the overly large pocket in the sweatshirt hanging forgotten over her arm. She might actually be able to tolerate this event. Just breathe Katrina, just breathe.

Outfit (and hair)

@Katrina Walker @Margo White

Another person sank onto the other seat next to the panicked girl, talking to her quickly and as soothingly as she could before she realized that her friend likely couldn’t hear her. The older girl looked at Paisley, calling her a genius and she simply shrugged. “Noise is annoying,” she replied bluntly. She really did like being off on her own, doing her own thing. But her father had insisted that she needed to make new friends before the school year began, that it would help her ‘adjust better’. He said that she needed to be friendlier, that it would take a large weight off his and her mother’s shoulders, so she obviously couldn’t say no. Sure, he wasn’t around to make sure she was doing it, but a Bellweather always kept their promises.

You rooting for Hogwarts in this game? she was asked and she mulled it over for a minute. “Guess so, ought not to root for the other team. I’d be a social outcast before I even entered the school,” she replied, popping another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

Movement caught her eye and she turned her head to see the redhead, Katrina she thought the other say, looking at her. She’d visibly calmed down, like a wash of cool rain had come after a raging desert storm, and she simply nodded, knowing the other couldn’t hear her speak anyhow. Paisley looked down to her hand which was holding her bag of popcorn, taking a moment before tilting it and holding it out as an offering to both the older girls seated next to her.

The lack of substance within his life caused a day that was absolutely boring to behold, this was the sole reason for him to attend such an event, but, he'd do it in style. Sporting a black shirt that clearly stated upon its front 'Quidditch is Boring', he'd make his way through the entry gates and up into the stands where other Hogwarts students were sectioned at. As always with Zykeal, habitually, he had that ivory-colored wand shoulder high and twirling within his fingers as a drumstick would. Strolling through the crowd, he surely got some looks that questioned why he would even be at the event in the first place; it only caused a little smirk to play across his features as the Gryffindor made his way over towards the section of bright yellow that seemed to be adorned even by different houses among the students.

Making his way to a rare empty row a few rows higher than most of the other students, he sat himself down upon one of the stadiums stands and kicked his feet up upon the one in front of him to the dismay of anyone who might have been near his lax display of arrogance. Pei was randomly spotted a few rows down from him, they had some positive interactions and he appreciated her company most of the time, but, he wouldn't subject his tentmate to sitting with him while he wore the shirt that obviously caused sneers from the rest of the wizarding community that attended the match. There seemed to be a lot of gossip of the game around the stands closest to him, talk on who had the advantage in the game, and who they thought might take the win in the contest; this didn't intrigue him.

Instead of actively looking to watch the game, he had brought his spell grade 2 charms book to keep himself company. Pushing it out onto his lap as he continued to flick his wand around within his fingers with the other hand, he'd situate the book upon his forearm and raise it up, letting his elbow be placed upon his lap as a support for his make-shift reading stand. Occasional peeks from those golden irises above the contents of the book were given, staying alert, aware that his presence probably caused a little bit of grief with the fanboi's that thrived over this boring game that the wizarding community seemed to love. Personally, he thought muggle sports were more intriguing, after all, Zykeals passion of sports really was based on skateboarding and he could find no one to convince him that flying around in circles until someone caught a dumb ball could be considered a good sport.

It was a little contradicting of himself though, as one of his good friends was indeed the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, but, their friendship was built mainly on mutual respect of different qualities. Zykeal didn't see his friend as 'just' the quidditch captain as many of his peers had, but, someone who was tough and good for a brawl if it ever came down to that sort of thing. Surprisingly though, there weren't many people that he recognized in the stands just yet, he figured that his friend would be here, maybe a few others from their tent, but alas, they seemed to be running late. Stopping the movement of his wand for a quick moment, he'd reach back and pull the hood over his head from his black hoodie, then continue his previous actions as he waited for others to join and give him a hard time about the shirt he had on him.

Briefly mentions Rafael | Opeila

Role-playing as Ilvermorny iNPC Phylicia Stanwood
Interacting with @Zykeal Lane

There was only one thing in the entire world that could have Phyllis' eyes shoot open at six in the morning, as wide-awake and excited as if she'd just had several cups of coffee and a truckload of sugar. "Quidditch!" she screamed. Her hands flew to her mouth, but it was too late. Oops. Her tentmates probably wouldn't appreciate such a rude awakening.

But the redhead did not care one bit. She was ecstatic, and within minutes she was completely dressed and skipping around the tent. There was even a cartwheel in there. Now, there was just one problem. The match wasn't until this evening.

Phyllis couldn't recall ever feeling so impatient. She was used to finding things to do to entertain herself for extremely long periods of time--her parents were boring and there was never anyone to play with--but none of her usual pastimes helped. It wasn't as if anything could even compare to the amazingness that was Quidditch.

Somehow, she made it to sunset without murdering anyone from pure restlessness. At least she'd found time to make a poster since she hadn't been at the crafting thingie. Her outfit itself didn't betray the team she was rooting for, instead just thrown together to deal with the annoyingly hot, sticky day, but the poster did. So did the red face paint.

Hurrying up the stairs to where she'd be sitting in the Stands, Phyllis wore a huge, almost maniacal grin. Frankly, she was obsessed with Quidditch. First things first, time to show off the poster. It was pretty messy, since Phyllis was not a very organized girl and hadn't put in a ton of effort, but it was the thought that counted.

"Wooooo! Go Greta! Go Ella!" she yelled, although her voice would probably be lost in the crowd. Well then, hopefully her jumping up and down would make her sign stand out enough for them to see. Honestly, she didn't care too much who won--she just wanted a good game of Quidditch--but the girls she'd met at the barbeque were nice, maybe even friends, and she wanted them to take home the victory.

Her cheering and jumping was cut short by something that caught her eye. Something... wrong. "Wha-" Did that shirt say... no, that wasn't possible. Her smile replaced by a look of indignance and poster slammed down onto the nearest seat, the redhead stormed over to where the boy stood in his disgraceful tee shirt proclaiming that Quidditch was boring. "Not true!" she shouted, although with all the other noise around them it probably was about the volume you'd have to use just to be heard. "Quidditch isn't boring! And if you think that, why are you even here, you cow turd?" It was not the best insult, but cow turds were pretty disgusting, just like the boy in front of her. Quidditch was Phyllis' very favorite thing and she was not going to stand for such blatant disrespect of it. And if that meant insulting a stranger as some of her very first words spoken to them, so be it.