Tent Lair of the Durmstrang Gang PV Closed

Mentioning the lovely Durmstrang gang members~ @Evelynn Decipio, @Adonis Thorn, @Lydia Cooper, @Piérre Marchonné, @Elena Jangleton & @Rafael D'Spacito

Tents. Tents everywhere. The smallish Durmstrang group made a plan to all bed together in one tent and Milo liked the idea. He wouldn't want to be stuck with other people he didn't know, much less wake anyone up with his night terrors. The boy let out a sigh as they came to a stop in front of one ordinary looking tent. He blinked, questioning if seven students were allowed, or could even fit into one of these. But then again, it's a magical tent so it was bigger on the inside.

After shaking his head and gathering his thoughts he saw Greta's little blonde head disappear into the tent. He scurried after her and his mouth hung open in awe when he walked into the tent. Sure it wasn't anything fancy but it was a lot bigger on the inside than the outside. "Woahhh this will be so fun! Can I sleep on the bed across from you near the entrance?" The dirty blonde spoke with excitement. His small Russian accent slipped through but he figured he should practice his English now since they were going to Hogwarts, or at least see it soon. He hesitated before speaking in a lower voice. "I- uh also want to sleep near then entrance because of my n-nightmares.." He bit his lip as he spoke before looking up at Greta and turning back to the bed to unpack his things.

As soon as he finished unpacking he laid down on his bed staring up at the ceiling of the tent. He thought quietly to himself for a bit before lifting his head to look for Greta. She had seemed to disappear, probably her curiosity got the best of her. He sat upright and stifled a yawn. Traveling had taken a lot out of him but it wasn't nearly time to sleep yet. Although who was he kidding, he wouldn't sleep even if he was given the chance. All this excitement, fear he thought to himself before shivering off an unsettling feeling. The boy stood up and stretched before poking his head back out. "Hey you guys come check out the tent, Greta and I already claimed spots!"

[font=century gothic]Date: July 1, 2020 | Evening[/font]

After having decided that she would wait to do anything significant with their temporary abode until the group congregated, Greta flopped down onto her bed, legs hanging off the edge hands out to either side. The canopy of the tent because the canvas in a figurative sense as her mind began to play out images of the might-happens and could-bes of the coming weeks. She'd just gotten to pondering how the game might go down and thinking she might have to do some reconnaissance work to scope out their competition when a stirring of air suggested that the pavilion entrance had been pushed aside.

[In Russian] "Occupie—" she had begun to say, pushing herself up to her elbows to place the intruder with an imploring and apologetic look. But she needn't finish that thought. "Milo~!" She chimed, face splitting into a reserved, close-lipped smile while tempering a peel of laughter through her nose. It was the expression on her friend's face. The slack-mouthed look of awe was just priceless. "It's just a tent.." She teased with a sheepish grin.

Her countenance of mirth sound transformed into one of bewilderment, however, as Milo responded. In English. Why was it that all of the boys insisted on speaking that ill-bred mutt of a language. It couldn't even cut it on its own, pilfering words from every other forseeable tongue and cutting them into bastardizations of their former selves to mash together into a cacophony of noise. How it had become the international language of choice, she would never understand. Why couldn't it at least have been one of the romantic languages? Something pleasing on the ear?

All of her mental whining wouldn't save her from the onslaught of sound that berated her then, though. She was rudely reminded that if she didn't get over her prejudice about English, the boys would quickly leave her behind. Not that they hadn't already. Somehow, they had all seemed to have practically mastered the foreign tongue. Where and how? Greta couldn't possibly begin to know. Although, she supposed they did spend a bit more time with Alec than she and could have picked it up from him. But even still, it wasn't like they spoke it at home.

[In Russian] "Milooo~…" she whined, crawling up to sit on the edge of the bed. "You know I don't understand. You're talking too fast.."

But, she'd understood one of the words: nightmare, if for no other reason than that the group asked Milo about them regularly. As the boy began to set himself up on the bed across from her, she watched in relative silence, mouth crimped with sympathetic concern. How bad was it going to be this time? With them in a whole new place, far from home and surrounded by strange buildings and stranger people, she hoped that didn't trigger anything more than usual.

When he had finished, Milo had lain down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. How reminiscent that was of what she'd been doing only moments earlier. Several moments went by. He seemed lost in his thoughts. Maybe he was dwelling on the nightmares again. For a second, she thought to try to cheer him up, offer comfort of some sort. But...she wasn't sure how that would come across. Jan and the others always seemed best suited to trying to cheer him up...

Thus, instead, Greta took her leave of the interior to stand outside. Upright, feet together, hands folded in front. She might have been the spitting image of propriety, making her mother shed a tear in pride, had it not been for the fact that she was wringing her hands and chewing on her lip while cerulean eyes wandered the field anxiously in search of Hanzo. Or any of the others for that matter. Hopefully they hadn't settled on a tent without her.. They'd said that she could stay with them, but sometimes she wondered if they just said things like that just to appease her without any intent of actually following through. It was a silly fear. She'd spent two years with them already. It was just.. sometimes Hanzo seemed so irritated with her presence and she couldn't help but wonder if the others felt the same way.

Fortunately, someone crossed into her periphery before her thoughts could descend too far. Hesitating, she lifted a hand to tuck an errand lock of wavy hair behind her ear. Rocking forward slightly on the balls of her feet, she spent a moment battling down her uncertainty before deciding to move forward. Like a timid mouse, she crept forward, layered skirts shuffling at her ankles with each step. When she was near enough, she reached out to tug lightly on their sleeve, and spoke their name, adding, [In Russian] "I.. Milo and I have a tent for us... over there.." She had raised a hand to the height of her collar, finger pointed in the direction of the pavilion.

The call from Milo half a second later hammered that point home pretty adequately. There was certainly no question about which tent they'd claimed.

[font=century gothic]INTERACTING WITH Milo @Annie Morgan and whoever it is that shows up next[/font]

- Interacting with Greta and Milo @Evelynn Decipio and @Annie Morgan and the rest of the gang once they arrive -

Date: July 1, 2020 | Evening

The moment Alec set foot inside the Durmstrang camp a sea of tents, that looked more or less all the same, greeted his sight. In what seemed to be the middle of the camp there were the communal areas, and all around the students' tents, still pretty much empty. His schoolmates were all running around, wanting to make sure they would get a tent that was in a good position, hopefully either closer to the bathrooms or the common areas. But, if Alexander was being honest, he preferred the idea of being further away from the chaos, and more towards the limits of the camp, hopefully towards the Hogwarts' one. Since he had learned about the summer camp, he had been quite curious and eager to learn more about the "competition", even if he did not play Quidditch. So of course, following his gut, he had asked around both his school and back at home, if anybody knew anything about the other school's teams, and a couple of names did stand out.

But anyway, back to choosing the right tent. Alec and his group of friends had decided to camp all together, so it was important that, whichever tent they would have chosen, it had enough beds.
After he walked around for a little bit, finding a couple of possible tents, a familiar voice and a hand tugging at his sleeve got his attention.

"Oh- hey Greta," Alec said in English as he gave the girl a small smile, his eyes following the direction she had pointed towards. A couple of seconds later, Milo's voice reached his ears and the Yorkshire boy let out a small -and quite rare- chuckle. ^{[In Russian]} "He's quite excited, isn't he?" he said to the girl as he started walking towards the tent, assuming that Greta would follow him. It wasn't that common for him to talk in Russian, back in England, but the boy knew that Greta had some problems understanding English, so he didn't want to make her feel bad by talking fast - and heavy with his Northerner accent.

^{[In Russian]}"Milo! You guys chose a really nice tent! And quite close to Hogwarts' camp as well," Alec smirked at that, figuring that Greta had chosen this tent probably for the same reason why he had been walking around the outer tents as well. He noticed how his friends already called dibs on their beds, so he immediately beelined towards the last bed, hopping on it. ^{[In Russian]}"If that's fine for you, I'll take this bed," he said, before he took off his jeans jacket and placed it at the end of the bed. That day he was dressed quite simply, with a pair of black, skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, his black vans and the already mentioned jeans jacket.

^{[In Russian]}"How are you doing? Excited for the Summer Camp?"Alec asked to Greta and Milo, and then crossed his hands behind his head and let himself relax on the mattress, his eyes scanning the rest of the tent only to rest then on the entrance, as he waited for the rest of their friends to arrive.

Mentions: @Adonis Thorn @Lydia Cooper @Annie Morgan @Evelynn Decipio @Piérre Marchonné @Elena Jangleton

[font=Goudy Old Style]The trip overseas had been a bit harrowing, admittingly – portkeys were quite brilliant artifacts, and in more ways than one, but they certainly weren’t the Captain’s favorite method of traveling. Well – to be fair, he didn’t travel all that much, so it wasn’t like he had a clear representation in his mind of how he preferred to get about the world, but there were simply symptoms of the method he’d tried in this particular instance that left him uncomfortable, unwilling to repeat the act once more. After all, the portkey he’d taken had left a bout of dizziness buzzing about within his head, a pool of dread mulling about in his stomach, the sort that made you want to hurl in the toilets. It wasn’t anything Hanzo couldn’t handle, he supposed in hindsight as his sneakers squeaked upon the dewy grass in front of the tent’s flap. He’d been dizzy before, he’d been sick before. He could handle the reactions his immune system threw at him with stark precision, the signs of bullying that were far more obvious than some would care to admit. It was okay. What didn’t kill you, he deducted, made you stronger.

It was quite nice to finally be safe and sound in the London Quidditch Stadium, however, surrounded by his good friends and family – even better that Greta had taken so quickly to locate a tent for the group. Well, Hanzo had to admit that her presence did have its perks, even if she preferred to stick to the second year like the narrator to her Charlie Puth discs. The tent in question seemed quite rustic, a bare place to sleep, the colors quite neutral and the sleeping spaces comfortable but simple – the child couldn’t help but smile at the sight, threading a hand through his sunkissed hair as his deep blue eyes rested on his mates. It was quite lovely, actually, the concept of quality time with his comrades, and even better that they could share a tent together. Luxury was for posh people – Hanzo could sleep in a barn and still wake up with a smile. The fact that he was sharing living space with his good friends? The ends certainly justified the means. “It’s a nice tent,” the child admitted to his sister – she’d done good work. “Thanks, Greta, for finding us such lovely quarters to sleep in.”

He would continue on, dropping his belongings onto the nearest bed, specifically the one closest to the doorway. The one across from Greta, anyways, on the other side of the entrance. It would make for an easier escape from his friends if needed – his contingency plan, though he wasn’t exactly plans on using it. Turning towards his mates, he allowed a smile to snake onto his face, eyes bright as he bounced cheerfully on his heels. It would be then that he would feel it – the growling of his aggravated stomach. He spoke before he could properly sort out his words – “You all hungry?” he asked aloud absently, looking out the dorway. The English felt foreign on his lips, the words disjointed and slow as he spoke them. “I’m starving...” [/font]

Mentions: @Adonis Thorn
@Lydia Cooper
@Piérre Marchonné
@Elena Jangleton
@Rafael D'Spacito
@Evelynn Decipio

Outfit: https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/ ... tfit_b.jpg

Exiting Tent Thread, Headed to BBQ

@Rafael D'Spacito, @Evelynn Decipio, @Elena Jangleton & anyone else who wants to play!

Date: July 2nd... Dusk

Silence was in the tent as I opened it. Piérre and his friends were already joined with the hundreds of tents pitched in this wide open, grassy pitch, having arrived by their Portkey yesterday. I would have to make a point of getting in touch with him, perhaps after the Quidditch game, which time until is slowly ticking away.

On the day of arrival, I had arrived with quiet hands, pushing aside the canvas of the tent, toting along with me my personal belongings and a molskine briefcase; expansion charm within, of course. Taking one of the unoccupied cots, I gently placed my briefcase down I had unlatched it with the stealth of a cat, withdrawing the books 'Moste Potente Potions' by Phineas Bourne and 'The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection'. Now I tug out a shot glass and a box of chocolate. With a sigh, I lean back, flopping on the pillow and opening both of my books to cross reference and analyze the different and similar attributes between the two.

Hanzo ask the rest of us if we were hungry. I, not especially fond of overindulging, preferring to nibble throughout the day. Thus, that was why I was indulging on mild and dark chocolate, learning and comparing the two of my new books. I peered up at them for a second, smiling at the boys before nodding quietly and silently wishing the departees well.

"I, for one, am not extremely hungry, Hanzo. However, I did bring some chocolates. They're Italian, if you want to try some." I quietly piped up for the first time, my blue eyes barely sparkling with modest cheer and amusement at my teammate. I look to Jan. "You want some too, guys? C'mon, don't be shy!"

Above all, I was bored with waiting, sensing time pass me by... Time to seal the deal. I reach into my moleskine briefcase up to my shoulder, before gently grabbing something that rattled about almost like glass. With a gentle raising, I let a sly grin cross my features, a bottle of scarlet Firewhiskey and two more shot glasses in my hands. Placing them in front of me, and popping the cork to let the scent of cinnamon fill the air, I quirk an eyebrow in a fashion that would make my twin proud. "Are any of you familiar with the game...

With a flick of my wrist, I procure a deck of Bicycle cards and throw them on the cot. "King's Cup?" I put the Firewhisky aside. "Well, if you aren't, you're gonna learn quick. Jan... could you sort out the cards for me while I explain rules?"

Taking a deep breath, I recall the rules of the game. "To loosen everyone's nerves, why don't we have a little fun, eh? Okay, so once Jan's gotten the cards out, he'll shuffle. After he shuffles, one of you guys get to go first. There are rules as to what you do with each drink, and I'll tell you what they are as we go along. After the first person goes, then the person to their left goes. The game continues until only one person is still standing and thinking straight, capiche?"

The sparkle in my eye only increasing, I grin maniacally. "Then let the games begin..."

- Interacting with @Rafael D'Spacito, @Evelynn Decipio, @Elena Jangleton & @Piérre Marchonné NPCs-

Summer Camp had been quite... uneventful so far, for Alexander's taste. Sure, he kind of liked reading his books and going on walks, but he missed the busy days he used to have back at Durmstrang. All of their different classes, the activities, even the amount of study... he just wished he wouldn't get so easily bored.

Alec had spend the majority of the day outside, taking in the sun and reading a book, but once the bright, warm star had started setting down, he had made his way inside his tent. There, Jan, Romeo and Hanzo were inside, and Alec greeted them with a wave, before he walked to his bed. He changed out of his jeans and put his pyjama trousers, before he registered what the others were saying. With a raised eyebrow, he looked towards his friends, not really sure he had understood well. Did Romeo just ask them to play a drinking game? Well, those were the kind of surprises -and challenges- Alec could not resist.

He walked towards his friends with a smirk on his face, before stopped next to Jan. The rules of the game were quite simple, not too complicated, and the boy could feel his competitive side come to the surface; he would have been the last person standing, he would have made sure of that. "I'm so up for this, guys. Who'll go first?" he asked, a challenging tone clear in his voice. He then nodded at Jan's words, looking then at Romeo. "He's right, I was just thinking the same thing. I have the feeling tonight will be fun,"

Alexander let his eyes wander around, excited to see how the night would have turned out. Who would have thought that the day would have turned out to be so interesting?

OOC: I'm so sorry it took me ages to post guys!