Hogwarts Summer Camp Welcome BBQ

RPing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky

Interacting with: @Hanako Tone, closed to interactions except planned ones
Mentioning: @Lucia Fox to finish the interaction and @Margo White

The girl that he had been talking to had said she'd stick with Slava. Fair enough, she reacted the same way that Margo had. Most of these people wouldn't see him again anyway, so he didn't mind them using his diminutive. He was never particularly fond of formalities anyway—calling people by their first names even when he didn't know them and generally using diminutives unless he was explicitly instructed not to. He knew Max was only telling people his name was Maksim here, but it was a lot easier for these British people to pronounce and remember a name like that rather than Vyacheslav. No matter, he just nodded with a smile as a response to Lucia.

As he was leaving, she said that she'd see him at the victory party for Hufflepuff. No, that was all wrong. As one of the Beaters for the other school, he couldn't just let it slide. “It will be Durmstrang's victory, but yes,” he corrected with a smirk and a grin, and finally departed.

When he swiped the sausage, he did indeed get a powerful reaction, with the boy starting to say some kind of insult with extreme anger. So it would be a fight over the piece of food? What came next was both shocking and exciting for the young Russian. The boy's entire demeanour changed as he calmed down, which made Slava very curious. He demanded the sausage back with a fake grin, and Slava hummed, “Nuh-uh-uh! You have to do better.” He saw the mischief in his companion's eyes and smirked. The boy's next proposition? Now that was much more interesting.

When you strike a deal with a devil, you should be careful about what you offer, because there was always the chance that he just might accept it. The boy had offered him a date—perhaps he thought that it would embarrass Slava, but it did quite the opposite. An ever-growing mischievous grin took over his face as he said triumphantly, “Deal!” Merry, innocent peals of laughter were unable to be contained at the boy striking a pose. “Here is your sausage,” he announced, scooping it onto his companion's plate. “Sooo, this date?” he began. “I am playing in the Quidditch game. Is the 6th good instead, in the park in the afternoon?” Slava smirked, eyes shining with a playful nature.

He would prefer if he wasn't knocked into a freezing body of water, but he would recover from it if he was and the culprit for such a horribly cruel act would have an irate Durmstrang Beater to deal with. “Name?” he asked suddenly. “I am Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky. Call me Slava.” After introductions were made, a particular "nemesis" of his would catch his eye and he would prepare to head off like the boy had requested.

The more the older boy spoke, Hanako could feel the playful look on his face slowly morphed into utter confusion. Did he just..accept his deal? Just to be sure, he tried to remember if there was another meaning to the word ‘ deal ‘. Did Deal meant something else in Russian? The excited look on the boy’s face said otherwise. Speaking of Russian… R u s s i a n ?!? Hanako didn’t even think about the boy’s foreign features before as he merely assumed Hanako had never seen him in Hogwarts. It takes quite a bit for someone to be remembered so it wasn’t a surprise. Hanako knew enough about the quidditch game to know Dimsum..Damstam..oh whatever they called themselves- students were going to be at the same summer camp. However, there was never even a tinge of interest when it came to getting to know students from other schools so Hanako never planned to even interact, make friends and create a memorable summer romance with one. Why the hell would he do that? The Dimsum students will leave soon anyway.

But here he was asking one on a date. Hanako was, in short words, stupified. More importantly, he was shocked at how he reacted to his deal. The point of being overconfident was to scare away those who aren’t. Being full of himself had never failed to make people roll their eyes or face-palm at his antics but why was this Russian boy different? No- it can’t be. Could it be?

Could this boy be as annoying as t h e Hanako Tone? H i m? ! ? OOC gasp

That shocking discovery was the sole reason that Hanako looks like what a computer would when facing an error. This had never happened before. How was he supposed to...out annoy someone when that someone seemed just as annoying as him? It looked like he didn’t need to worry about that with how fried his brain is at the moment. He barely could comprehend the details of the date he himself asked for and completely missed the return of his beloved sausage. Only coming back to reality when his name was asked.

“ Uhhh….Tone. Hanako Tone..what- wait. wait no! ” Realizing a bit too late on what he had agreed to- his face flushed a deep shade of red that seemed truly out of character. “ - I- you- h uh “. Despite snapping back to reality, the shock of the Dimsum’s student response mixed with his own inability to make a comeback and clearly embarrassed face, he was tongue-tied.

Hanako Tone...was tongue-tied . If historians were interested in Hanako’s life, they would’ve written this down in the history books. The boy looked completely different from a few minutes ago where ego and confidence seemed to radiate from him. To be honest, he looks like a tsundere that just admitted their love. It was both a disturbingly odd yet amusing scene to watch. It was clear that he was ultimately caught off guard.

Reducio

Was Interacting with: @Ruby Cazares

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Interacting with @Marshal Mozor
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Open to interactions!

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She smiled when listening the boy introducing himself to her. “Marshal the Wizard?” Lindsey smirked when hearing this. Sounds quite fun, yeah. At least she could never be that creative.

And there came his name. Marshal Aldous Mozor. Not bad, actually. And he lived in…London? Oh dear, why did everyone live in London but she had never met any of them before? Was Kensington such an infamous place? And no one visited there?

“And what about you? I'm going to call you Lynn, by the way.” said the boy, with full enthusiasm.

“Lynn? Alright, that’s what my friend and family call me.” she answered. “And yes, I’m going my introductions. First name Lindsey, middle name the, last name Witch.” Lindsey grinned slyly. She liked the trick, and now was going to try it out.

“Okay I would not tease about this anymore. Full name Lindsey Florence Springhall, and I’m brought up in Kensington, yeah London as well.” she grinned. “I live in a muggle district, and a scientist is our neighbor.”

She did not want to mention Mr Harriman at first. But now, she decided that maybe she’d say the whole thing if Marshal really wanted to know her. “I’m a pureblood, as you could see.” She explained. “But I’m, friendly, I guess?”

At least she thought so. Her parents never taught her things like the prejudice against the muggleborns, and she regarded them as super cool. Indeed. She really admired all the muggle culture and muggle artifacts, and she believed that she would definitely enroll in muggle studies in third grade. It’s coming soon, as she believed.

“Tell me more about the muggle world. Like, how do you use a phone?” Lindsey asked curiously. “My mom bought me one some years ago, but none of us could figure out how to…download the, um, apps right, and how to use them. I’m pretty sure you know it, though…”

Lindsey drank some lemonade. She saw Marshal taking two hot dogs, and she reached out to the chips. She always liked them, and she believed that they tasted well——just like what she had in Hogwarts.

She threw a chip into her mouth. Delicious, like always. And then she waited for Marshal’s reply.

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Interacting With: @Amara Dragamior
Mentioning: Durmstrang Gang
Hex Color: #0080BF
Closed to Interactions

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"I am Amara Dragamior by the way, a pleasure to run into you. Though I do promise, that this is not how I usually meet attractive strangers."

Attractive – a word he’d never heard uttered in his direction, let alone in description of his pale features and lanky build. Was she flattering him? Regardless of the answer, the Norwegian’s smile could only grow in vibrance, a blinding vision to all who dared turn their gaze towards his shining disposition, his own eyes flashing brightly as he took up the hand of the mysterious stranger in a firm handshake. “Attractive?” he sputtered after a moment, fumbling over his English and… well, his own tongue. When had talking to girls become so hard? “I – well, thank you?” Ouch, that wasn’t smooth at all. His face turning a darker shade of red, he made a sore attempt at a pickup line, the words slipping past his lips before he could hope to stifle them. “I would say the feeling is mutual, but I’m not sure ‘attractive’ would do your acquaintance justice.” Flirting? Yes, that was the word. Another ill-advised move – he would have to make a note to keep his shortcomings to himself, lest he find himself at the mercy of the judgments of his friend group. Rather than display his discomfort, however, he would instead opt to chuckle quietly, his eyes meeting his shoes as a wry smile washed over his features. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “That was uncalled for. I’m Hans Franssen, Quidditch Player and Captain.” He had been holding her hand too long. “Most people just call me Hanzo,” he would finish hurriedly, retracting his hand from hers and wiping the sheen of sweat onto his jeans.

He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt so anxious. Hell, he’d never been an anxious child, not even in the face of oppression, so why was this instance so nerve-wracking? She’s cute when she fiddles, he couldn’t help but inwardly lament as he watched her mess around with the strings on her dress, his lip bit in between his teeth as his shoulders grew tense, every little sound about him multiplying in volume and reverberating about the expanses of his mind. It was then, that it would occur to him – the most embarrassing, terrifying revelation he’d ever experienced in his small time on earth. No, no, no, no, no. He would do his best to force the idea from his consciousness, shove it into the deepest darkest fathoms of his mind, but to no avail – “Forgive me for guessing,” he would sputter again, attempting to resume casual conversation, “I assume by your English and accent that you’re a Hogwarts Student?” His question could do little to mask his inward horror, the red lights in his mind blaring warnings as he began to slowly drown within the disgust most boys his age felt.

So this was a crush.

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Interacting With: @Willow Anderson
Mentioning: Aurelia Notresvace
Hex Color: #800000

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STRONG LANGUAGE USAGE AHEAD

"Guess I'm in luck, then, aren't I. Already snagged a lunch date with a captain."

The very tone, mere sound of the Ilvermorny boy’s voice acted as gasoline to a fire within the Captain’s chest , once dying down at the indication that his social troubles would be brought to a close, the vocals grating upon the last ounces of patience he still had within his soul and tinting the tips of his ears bloodred. What. The fuck. Was this guy’s problem. Had he not been clear about his feelings? Did anything about his demeanor communicate willingness, or even patience regarding unwilling interaction? He would think not – with each moment that ticked by on the clock, his gaze only grew colder, mouth falling into an even deeper scowl as his white knuckles clutched his fork with a fervor very unlike a child his age. To put it simply, he was very, visually pissed. And he was glad… perhaps some feeling would show the boy in front of him that he had no intention to continue the conversation.

Of course, a few words wouldn't hurt his case, either. “O, ho-ho-ho,” he voiced aloud, shaking his head with an odd mixture of brazen anger and humor upon his face. “Did you just –“ he laughed harshly, shutting his eyes as hard as he could possibly manage, “A lunch date?” With every moment that passed, his curiosity was stirred more – was this someone’s sick attempt at a prank? Did this kid think he was funny, or something? Was he on tape? A quick glance at his surroundings confirmed a negative. Could something even be filmed in a magical stadium? It didn’t matter, not when he was being so brazenly disrespected. Regardless of his assumptions, he had to wonder aloud, “What – what is this, an intervention?” Then, nose ruby-red and eyes narrowed into an almost feral glance, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU STILL DOING IN MY FACE?” Oh, but it sure as hell didn’t stop there, didn’t it? The longer Rafael listened, the more furious he grew. “A bump? Are you,” he shook his head, cheeks turning slightly red as he tried to suppress an laugh, an odd mixture between shock, outrage, and humor, “Are you shitting me right now?” He shook his head, chuckling darkly as he thread a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.” Did he look so daft, that he could be flattered into favor? Well then, he was doing something really fucking wrong. Deciding to wrap the conversation up, he sobered himself, jutting his chin out as he put every ounce of authority into his voice. “If you’re looking for someone to flatter, you’d better keep fucking looking. I don’t even fucking know you. This conversation is finished. You want to see me really pissed? Keep. Fucking. Talking.” It was a brazen challenge.

"Between you and me, I'm sure you'd like a challenge for once."

No. No way in hell he just –

But he did. For a moment, all remnants of anger deserted the Captain’s countenance, and he couldn’t help but stare at the other boy dumbly, his mouth hanging open in the slightest as he felt a cold shiver run down his spine like liquid mercury. A challenge… what… was this really happening? Did… did it… no. It didn’t matter. It was a well-played move by the American Slytherin, an Achilles Heel so well-stricken that the Gryffindor didn’t dare decline. However, such an act of defiance would come with retribution. It would be only mere moments after the words left the lips of the Ilvermorny student, that the effects of the Captain’s outrage would soon manifest… it was born in his gaze, a subtle and uncontrollable twitching in his left eye, followed closely by the shaking of his hands in contempt – his face would soon morph into a predatory grimace. It was hard to properly describe the outrage he felt, all rational reason being chucked out the window in favor of a twelve-year-old temper tantrum. He slammed his hands down on the table, every little feature about him taut with the anger he felt. “You know what?” he snarled dangerously. “FINE. We have, what, twenty days left in this hellhole? You have nineteen – starting tomorrow. I,“ he put his hands up, laughing hysterically as he searched for the words to finish the statement, “no, I can’t do this today. You win. You fucking win.” His fingers would then clutch his plate, knuckles whiter than the South Pole, making quick work of standing up as fast as he possibly could, the picnic table jostling at the sudden movement. Should he throw food? Would that be justifiable? “Nineteen days of fucking hell on earth,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for the next two tables to hear. “I’ll be damned.” He was eating back at his tent. Dining with Aurelia was better than dealing with this shit.

Permission from Willow Anderson to curse out her NPC.

Rafael leaves the thread.

RPing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky

Interacting with: @Hanako Tone and @Margo White, closed to other interactions

The look on the boy's face was GOLDEN. Any and all energy he expended trying to mess with this kid was absolutely worth it. The playfulness that had previously been visible was replaced with utter confusion and it was glorious. Slava couldn't stop laughing. It wasn't malicious at all—he had no intention of bullying the foreign boy, just messing with him a little and getting a reaction. And it was incredibly satisfying. This boy's facial expressions were far better than the ones he typically received as a reaction.

To be fair, he had just agreed to a date. Slava was serious! He would go on that date, even if it wasn't meant to be romantic. Romance was not his thing anyway, but hanging out with someone who seemed like a fellow prankster? That was good. Hanako finally gave his name with a lot of stuttering and Slava winked in return. “I will see you on our date, Hanako Tone.” He didn't know what Hanako was normally like and that this was extremely unusual behaviour for him, but it was entertaining nevertheless. If Slava did much more, the poor boy would probably go into shock, but the little Russian couldn't resist. He blew Hanako a kiss, smirked at him, and then walked off with a little wave. “Bye bye,” he finished with a small hum of satisfaction. He turned his back to the stunned boy and wandered off, approaching the first girl from Hogwarts that he had met.

“Maaaargo,” he began casually, coming up beside her. They didn't know each other that well, but formalities were far too boring to waste time on. Informality and unpredictability were what made life interesting. If she allowed him, he would lead her over to the fire area and lean forward to whisper conspiratorally, “Pranks. What do you think?” Brown eyes sparkled with mischief as he asked for thoughts on the topic, hoping that he remembered the English word correctly. He had to make sure that he knew how to say the important stuff like this, so he had practically been interrogating some of the regulars at his family's pub who could speak English in preparation for this event.

Interacting with @Rafael D'Spacito as Hanzo Franssen

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Pay attention to the details of life - every sunrise, every sunset, and everything in between - or it will be gone before you even realize what you had

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Interacting with: @Lindsey Springhall

Open to Interaction

"Marshal the Wizard?" Lindsey smiled at his quip, which made him smile inwardly.
If there was one thing he was good at, it was making people smile, and that was a pretty cool talent to have. Despite the situation, a genuine smile never did anything but brighten somebody's day, if only a little.

“Lynn? Alright, that’s what my friend and family call me. And yes, I’m going my introductions. First name Lindsey, middle name the, last name Witch.”
Marshal chuckled at her use of his own joke.
"I guess that makes us friends then, Lindsey The Witch," he replied. "And what a coincidence that our last names are both magical. I think it must be destiny." And he really did think of her as a friend already. Of course his personality led him to feel that way about almost anyone he met, but he really was enjoying the small amount of time he had spent with Lindsey. She was kind and had a good sense of humor. She seemed like a great prospect for a close friend. Only time would tell if she felt the same way.
He didn't know much about the four houses at Hogwarts, but he found himself hoping he would get sorted into Hufflepuff; that way, he might have more opportunities to see Lindsey.

Finally, she shared her real name with him, a rather important piece of information if they truly were to become good friends.
"Lindsey Florence Springhall"
Marshal thought it was a beautiful name, and was fairly certain that he would never forget it. What's more, she had lived in London, same as him. He briefly wondered if they had ever been in the same place at any time in their lives- maybe even passed each other on the street without knowing that they would eventually end up at the same school. It was definitely possible; London was a big place, with a lot of people, residents and tourists alike.
She added that she lived in "muggle" district, next to a scientist. The blond boy pictured an eccentric old man with white hair, who kept to himself in his basement, where he conducted experiments that caused explosions in the middle of the night, for all his neighbors to hear.
He wished his neighbors had been that interesting growing up, but in contrast, he had lived next to the Abrams. The Abrams were a pair of dentists who refused to answer the door on Halloween, and instead left a bowl of toothbrushes on their front porch in hopes of offsetting the oral calamities that were sure to take place on that fateful night.

Lindsey was also a "pureblood," apparently. Putting two and two together, Marshal deduced that the word meant she had been born in a magical family. How different her childhood must have been than his own.
“But I’m, friendly, I guess?”
Marshal nodded firmly. "I'd say so."
Being oblivious to the bias and discrimination that some pureblooded families had against muggleborns, he wasn't sure why her being a pureblood had anything to do with her being friendly.

“Tell me more about the muggle world. Like, how do you use a phone?” Lindsey continued.
Marshal chuckled again. He really found it kind of adorable how she fumbled through the terms as she asked him how to use apps and such. Apparently magical folk had alternate ways of communicating that made phones unnecessary. Curious...
"Well, to download an app, you have to go to what's called the app store. It's not an actual, physical store, though. It's on the phone, usually on the home page. Um..." He struggled with ways to explain this to someone who didn't know much about smart phones. "I would show you on my phone, but I didn't bring it to camp. You could probably just Google it when you get a chance." He entirely missed the fact that she might not know what Google even was. "Phones are really useful for staying in contact with your friends and stuff. You can play games on them, too."
His parents had bought him a phone of his own a few years before, with some rules about how he used it. He had figured out how it worked pretty quickly, though he was able to ask his parents if he had any questions, whereas Lindsey apparently did not have that option.

{ Interacting with: @Howard White }

Howard's tone of voice was not quite as convincing as his words might have been but at the very least, they had Quinn on their side. It was much more pleasant than being against him, that much was for sure.

She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear as she listened to him. He was slightly more convincing this time, however. A soft smile appeared on her lips as she nodded, "Yeah, you're right. I'm sure I'm just worrying unnecessarily about it all," Serena voiced, taking her eyes off him and turning to stare into the fire as he continued to speak. Keep her head down and she would be fine. That was all she had to do. Keep her head down. It sounded so simple. A frown appeared on her face though, "I hate being protected all the time though... I kind of... just wish I was better at protecting them..." She admitted quietly. Her voice was barely above a murmur, it might have even been drown out by the sound of people around.

Saskia often did it, putting herself in danger to knock bludgers away or stop the chasers that surrounded her in the last game. She knew it was her role in the game but it still hurt to see her friends risking themselves for her. At some point, she just wished she could protect them. Not just in quidditch, but with everything. Her mind wandered back to the fire in the common room. She had managed to protect a random first year that had passed out. But ended up putting herself in a risky situation as a result. She recalled hearing her friends screaming through the floor at her, telling her to hold on and that they were coming. Even then, even when they were safe, they were risking themselves to break through the floor just to try and protect her. Quinn, Rosie, Reid, Saskia, so many of her teammates were there that day... It was kind of laughable in a way that she was worried about a game of Quidditch when they had been through so much together already - so much worse than ducking a few bludgers and avoiding a couple of blatches.

What a silly thing to worry about in hindsight. The game would be completely fine, especially compared to everything else that she had been through! Serena grinned as she nodded to his words. In truth, she had not really seen him out on the grounds much before. She was always out there and had not run into him but that was the thing about Hogwarts. It was so grand that even if she intentionally went looking for him outside, she probably wouldn't not see him. So she had no real reason to question his lie, it's not like she knew otherwise, "Ooohh, do you know what broom you're going to get?" She asked, perking up a bit more. Brooms were a point of fascination for her. It was so interesting to see all of the subtle differences in them. She had not noticed them before but after getting the Silver Arrow, she compared it to the Shooting Star that she had before and they seemed to have a different shape.

Serena had gotten through a few more bites of her burger at this point. She was also pretty sure that the arrow moved faster but that was likely her mind making it up. Laughing, she nodded in agreement. Parents, indeed, "Oh, don't worry. I am sure my mother will make me dress up and go to some incredibly dull party or bring over horribly boring guests," She added truthfully with a roll of her eyes, making it clear that she was not a fan of the 'pureblood' networking habits of her mother. She hoped not but she would be foolish to believe that her mother would leave her alone.

A worried look crossed her eyebrows, "O-oh..." Her words were barely audible as she stared at him. In all honesty, she had no idea what to say. It sounded awful. Of course, she also did not fully understand what he meant, due to the lack of information she had on the matter. They did not know each other well, so it seemed unwise to pry into his personal problems but she also felt the need to help. Hogwarts closing down for the summer and students being forced to go home... It suddenly made sense why he was angry. He did not want to go home. "I'm really sorry to hear that..." She said, her voice back to the normal volume, "Can you speak to them about it? Or is there somewhere else you could go? Like an aunt or uncle's place or a friend's or something?" Honestly, she was just saying the first questions that came to mind, even though she had no idea if any of them were a good idea. She just wanted to help.