Day of Rain Spectator Thread Closed

Interacting with @Starlee Kennedy

Open to other Interactions

Much to Piper's chagrin, Florian was not at all irritated, simply apologizing with that French accent Piper was beginning to despise. "Pardon Mademoiselle, I certainly did not mean to startle you." Mademoiselle. "Merci Piper, I was hoping to find good company to watch the match. I'm sure a lovely miss like yourself wouldn't want to continue sitting here alone." It was so odd to hear a first-year boy say the words lovely miss. Horror dawned in on her brain and she suddenly seemed to wake up. Red alerts went off in her head. No! they screamed. Leave me alone forever and ever; I like it this way!

Pretty boy plopped down next to her, far closer than Piper was comfortable with. She scooted a few centimetres to the right, as far as she could without bumping into the person (fully engaged in conversation) next to her. More embarrassingly, a few students even looked at them. It's his stupid ruby raincoat. "Are you a student here at Hogwarts? I am from Beauxbaton. A first-year. Did you watch the broom race? I was a competitor." This was a hundred times worse. He was now trying to make conversation. And Piper could tell this was going to go on for awhile if she didn't stop it fast. She hunched so far back into her hood that she was sure she was invisible. At least, she wished she was. Anger boiled inside her. Why was he talking when the rain made it hard enough to hear the commentation on its own?

Piper couldn't hold back her snarky reply. "No, I just happen to be a Durmstrang student with a British accent and Slytherin robes. What could ever make you think I'm a Hogwarts student?" He just couldn't take a hint. Piper kept her voice down so as to not attract others' unwanted attention, but Monsieur Florian was ruining a perfectly good and informative Quidditch match. "And no, I didn't see the broom race." she added curtly. "I'm sure your tales of broom races are truly magnificent, but if you don't mind, I'm here to watch the match. Imagine that."

Now that she thought about it, Piper felt a little guilty. He probably hadn't anticipated running across her type, but there were a hundred other "lovely" students to pester about broom racing and schools. She had no idea why she had been the lucky girl - hopefully it wasn't because she was conspicuous - but she did hope that now he would take the obvious sign that she wanted him to relocate (or at the very least be quiet for five seconds).

Not long after he sat down, he was joined by the soft white glow of a familiar face. Not that they had been apart much during their trip, in fact, one would think it was obvious that Niffler would show up to this game too. Yefim had been too quick to even ask his friends. Of course, that was part of why he liked the two of them so much, they kept up with him regardless of that. It was admirable, something like blind devotion.

[”I borrowed it from a Hog shrimp.”] Yefim smiled, glad to be speaking Russian after so much time spent squeezing out labored English phrases. [”Otherwise I woulda gotten one that had ‘Niffler, over here!’ on it. Good thing it worked anyway.”]

The peanut gallery was bickering about something in the stands, a bunch of people including some Durmstrang kids were going back and forth, sometimes raising their voices. Niffler asked Yefim a question, sounding like a set-up for a punchline, but the noise was frustratingly dividing Yefim’s attention.

”QUIET DOWN YOU FART BRAINS!” Yefim briefly turned around to admonish the entirety of the stands with a booming command from above, but then turned back to his companion, the angry expression whipped clean off. [”When?”]

Suddenly, the announcer’s voice picked up, saying some stupid crap about Hufflepuff demolishing Durmstrang. Yefim’s fists clenched and his face seethed. If Niffler had gotten even one more turn on the field, he probably would have ended the game. Had it been a bad idea to go straight for attack and leave no one to save? Well, it wasn’t like Hanzo was the Captain anymore, the Durmstrang team looked completely different now.

In fact, the Puffball team looked really different too. Not that he knew any of them well, or could even see their faces at all, but the Seeker was the obvious one. She was gone. Had Yefim's words of wisdom brought her down the true path? Did she turn herself in and beg for forgiveness for the false win? Perhaps if he had been paying any attention at all, he would have noticed she was one of the loud people in the stands.

All that mattered to Yefim anyway was Quinn. He wasn't even doing anything. Maybe he was petrified in fear, knowing how wrong it was for him to be there. Either way, he was being super boring. Instead, everyone's attention was drawn by the other Beater, a guy Yefim vaguely remembered being the one telling Niffler off at the hospital, as well as one of the gnats insistently grabbing the falling, seeking pipsqueak as Durmstrang continually tried to mash her down. His Bludger onto another player totally obliterated them, one would think they would be sent into the stands with the power of it. What was up with that?!

[”These Puffs give me a headache. I wish that was you and me out there.”] Yefim waxed on, as though what he was saying was sentimental.

Interacting with: @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood (as Valentin "Der Niffler" Schnell), as well as screaming at everyone present
Mentioning: @Quinn Healy Reid Kovacs

Dialogue in brackets is in Russian
Wearing

Mentioning: @Flash Holmwood as Yefim Rumyantsev
Open to interactions

Charotte arrived late, no doubt. The Quidditch stands were practically filled to the brim, causing her to squeeze by several students to obtain her own seat. She'd arrived alone, and alone she sat. It was true the small Hufflepuff had no friends, though she figured what better chance to make some here at the game. The chances were slim, actually. Maybe it was the rain that seemed to make the Quidditch pitch gloomier than usual, or it could have been the awkwardness around the foreign students that seemed to be present as well.

She glanced at the players, her eyes fixated intently on the Hufflepuff team. The crowd beside her seemed excited, ready for the first match of the season. Charlotte grinned as she watched her own house zip quickly around the pitch, a cheer erupting from her.

A gasp then escaped her lips, a hand raised to her mouth as she watched the Ravenclaw seeker plummet into a downwards spiral. She cringed, tearing her eyes away to spare seeing the pain. Though instead of a loud crash, there seemed to be no noise at all. Well, except for the cheering of other students. It seemed Neculai had.. hitched a ride with Miranda? She wondered how the game would progress, seeing Ravenclaw's own seeker didn't have his broom anymore. Oh well, it was all in the fun of the game.

Her concentration was then interrupted by a yell, not seemingly targeted towards her but certainly loud enough to hear. It seemed to come from a foreign student, their accent thick and apparent. She glanced to the side, a look of confusion worn across her face as she looked at the bickering students.

”QUIET DOWN YOU FART BRAINS!” yelled Yefim.

“EHHH! QUIET YOU!” joined Niffler, trying to help quiet the audience (naturally) by shouting even more loudly over the crowd and the patter of rain. Then, Valentin leaned in closer so that Yefim could hear better regardless.

«Барсук мычит при изучении другого языка». (A badger goes 'moo' when learning another language.) Valentin then ran his fingers through the strands of his silvery white hair in order to divert some dripping from his eyes. Then, in a flash he pulled out a tented box and shoved it precisely into Yefim's lap, giving the other boy a chocolate frog as fast as possible to keep it out of the rain. The pale boy had to get rid of it somehow, having received about 30 in the last week from adoring fans. With his quidditch-driven eating disorder there was no way he would afford himself sweets, meanwhile the next best thing was to have something to give to his friends.

«Ваша,» (Yours,) said Valentin with his usual silky voice. He had inherited a naturally pleasant set of vocal chords from his mother (a professional singer), so Valentin was usually quite pleasant to listen to as far as voices went.

Then, scanning the crowd, just like Niffler was always scanning everything around him, the boy froze when he saw a familiar blonde girl. The one who had tried to push Yefim into the lake. Cocking his head to the side, Valentin smiled.

Interaction: @Flash Holmwood Mention: @Erin Ryan

Interacting with @Piper Clark
Open to other Interactions
Bolded Text: French | Regular Text: English | Color: #BF4040

"No, I just happen to be a Durmstrang student with a British accent and Slytherin robes. What could ever make you think I'm a Hogwarts student?" Florian was a little taken aback by the girls' remarks. I mean, had she not seen the rain they were in? Her letterman-style Slytherin jacket was so soaked to the point where it was hard to tell the green from the black on the arms, and he didn't dare peek from under his hood to get a look at the large 'S' on the front. It was absolutely pouring outside and she expected him to get his hair wet!?! And not just that... but this was Hogwarts. The lesser of the schools. Who cared about the houses? It's not like he knew them anyway. 'Hmpf. Hogwarts isn't nearly as good as Beauxbaton and neither are the people it seems.' He had also asked her about the broom race, to which of course a girl like her would never attend. Why was she at this match in the first place? She had said she was "here to watch the match. Imagine that."

Well then. That little remark changed things. His face was visibly astonished, but under that big hood, very few could see it. While he was certainly a flirt, he was also quite a bully... and quite stubborn. And if this girl wanted to act like that, well, he would have to change that around right quick.

"Ah, Mademoiselle, but of course you know that Hogwarts cannot compare at all to Beauxbaton. I dare you to find someone from another school that knows the Hogwarts houses." He scoffed, figuring that not many people really would know the Hogwarts houses. Who cared when Beauxbaton was the best? Plus, none of his friends back in France knew them. He would bet she didn't know the Beauxbaton houses either. "I am sure you know the Beauxbaton houses then? Since you are so all-knowing?" He purposefully said the last sentence in French, curious if she would ask him about it.

It was around that moment that the Hufflepuff's managed to score a goal, and the crowd around them erupted in cheers. 'Well, that was certainly something. Maybe they can pull off a win...' His interest in the Hufflepuff team now renewed, he turned back to Piper and said "Well then, Piper Clark, since you would like to watch the match, you could enlighten me on the Hufflepuff team. Seems they went undefeated last year, even against Durmstrang. How Impressive." His face was truly impressed, but again, his hood was pulled so far over his head, not many would see it.

Piper Clark described her clothing to me as such.

Interacting with @Starlee Kennedy as Florian
Open to other Interaction

Piper determinedly watched the players, focusing on anything but Florian. The players on the field continued to dart about, tossing the ball back and forth. Florian seemed very ruffled by her remark. Was he seriously still going to stick around? "Ah, Mademoiselle, but of course you know that Hogwarts cannot compare at all to Beauxbaton. I dare you to find someone from another school that knows the Hogwarts houses." It was so on. How dare he? Hogwarts was renowned for a reason. She was about to literally stand up and find a player from another school to prove her point. Plus, nobody had ever made an actual retort to her, so this was new. Before she could do this, however, Florian continued speaking. Piper looked straight ahead, pretending not to hear him.

"I am sure you know the Beauxbaton houses then? Since you are so all-knowing?" The latter part of the question was clearly French. It was probably an insult, but Piper wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of saying she didn't know. She was exceptionally grateful for the fact that she had read about both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang just recently. The only issue was that she didn't remember the Houses at all. "I don't remember, but if I were you I would definitely notice a different British accent and a jacket with an unrecognized House." she snapped, giving him a scathing look. This was becoming exhausting. Why couldn't he take. A. Hint.

Suddenly, a Hufflepuff Chaser scored on the Ravenclaw Keeper. Piper groaned inwardly. The point where Florian had arrived had been the point where things went downhill. She remained stony as the crowd cheered for Hufflepuff, though she let slip a giggle. The commentator had thought the female Hufflepuff Keeper was a boy! Piper was annoyingly torn from focus by Florian's insufferable yakking again. Between him, the crowd, the rain, and the commentator's shouting, she was feeling a migraine coming on.

"Well then, Piper Clark, since you would like to watch the match, you could enlighten me on the Hufflepuff team. Seems they went undefeated last year, even against Durmstrang. How Impressive." Piper cocked her head. How would she know who the team was? She was in first year and hardly knew anyone. Wait, had Hufflepuff really won against Durmstrang? Undefeated? She set her jaw. Ravenclaw had to win. Not only to beat Hufflepuff, but to also prove a point to Florian. Also. "I'm supporting Ravenclaw." she said, voice filled with frost. Out on the field, the Beaters were savage. Piper let a gasp and a cringe out as two Ravenclaw players were brutally knocked off their brooms. Great timing. And what in the ever-loving heavens was this game!? She felt sick to her stomach as the players fell through the rain. Would there be replacements? How many people had died playing Quidditch?

Snapping back to Florian's question, Piper vaguely remembered the names of a few of the Hufflepuff players, so she named the ones she could remember. "I don't usually bother with the names that don't concern me, but the ones I can remember are Atlas, Reid, and uhhh, Quinn." She watched her breath in the air as she spoke. Piper may have felt a bit guilty before, but now that the Beauxbatons kid had gone on the defensive, she didn't any longer.

After Niff had joined him in shutting up the stupid crowd, he got to finish his joke. Yefim laughed loudly, slapping his knees with enthusiasm. He didn’t get it, but ‘badger goes moo’ was funny in and of itself. Especially when Niffy said it, with his little smile and bright eyes. He reminded Yefim of one of those fish that always swim up really close to sharks and cuddle up close while they devour other fish. Not that he ever seemed to have any specific motive for sticking by him, in fact, if Yefim gave it more than a single minute of thought he might have wondered what Niffo got out of the relationship at all. He was probably just drawn to Yefim’s natural radiating magnificence.

Even more, he brought out a little candy to share. He was always skinny as a bone, so he wondered how anyone thought the gift of candy was going to satisfy him. Maybe they thought it would help add some insulating fat to his visible skeleton, but it was a wasted effort. All the kid knew was flying and snatching, it was a drive so singular as to be obsessive. Yefim liked people who knew what he wanted, and getting free candy was an added bonus.

[”YES!”] Triumphantly, Yefim plucked the frog out of his hands before it could jump away. [”Awesome!”]

To be completely honest, the Puffs were doing too well. It was putting Yefim in a souring mood, he didn’t want to go back to Durmstrang having seen the dumb wet badgers winning another dumb game. The giant wasn’t eeeevveeeennnn doooiiinngggg aannnnyyttthiiiinnnnggggg!!!!

”HUFFYPUFF SUCKS! BOOOOOOO!” Yefim screamed at the top of his lungs, following it up by biting off the frog’s head.

"I want to see Howard kick ass or be kicked!" She shouted at the pitch. The dhampir remained benched much to her chagrin. She did not care if he won or loss, the victories of the badgers was irrelevant to the girl. She wanted to see that the fellow fourth year friend or rival, the distinction was minimal truly, could really do. She was denied this idle interest. Howard remained benched, a terrible bore while Reid had taken down part of Ravenclaw's ranks. She glowered over his successes. "Damn death witch..." She griped, her hands gripping the cold rail.

The only thing she gets out of these games is watching the boys fall. What a wonderful vision, their flailing bodies and the collective holding of the spectator's breath. The gasp as the fall comes to a sudden, unforgiving halt.

Fall.

«Эй, я могу иметь эту коробку?» ("Hey, can I have that box?") asked Valentin of Yefim in Russian, indicating the now empty chocolate frog box. Always in need of keeping his attention occupied and his hand-eye coordination sharp, Niffler had just found something for himself to do in between quidditch rounds. Eyeing the blonde he had punched (to little effect) days before, Valentin received the old box from Yefim [with OOC permission] and crumpled it up into as tight of a ball as Valentin's thin fingers could muster. «Смотри!» ("Watch this!") he said with a smirk to Yefim.

[d20 : 5] + 10 ACC

The crumpled candy box didn’t have a tight enough form to fly very well but, sitting higher in the stands than Erin, Valentin had gravity on his side and the paper ball still managed to lightly nip Erin in the shoulder before rolling under her seat. Pleased with himself in his ability to make the shot in front of Yefim, Valentin grinned with mischief in his eye.

"Stronk girl, hallo!" said Niffler with a silly smile and an elegant wave of his long, spindly arm. The weather did not seem to be bothering him one bit, and simply being in a quidditch-related environment made the obessive seeker glow.

Interactions: @Flash Holmwood @Erin Ryan

The mention of being watched elevated the boy’s anxiety, leading his pair of ice blue eyes to intently scan the surrounding areas of the stands. Coming from Erin, this declaration channeled his fear. Old warty ladies infiltrated his mind, dictating his decisions subconsciously. With his intended distancing came heightened wariness that they linger in the shadows. Waiting to take him away and answer for his negligence.

Her mention of a scorned interest helped resume his breathing. At least he could hope Erin would not refer to auntie this way. Knowing she mirrored his fear of them, her nonchalance indicated it was just another girl in the stands. Thomas remained silent for the moment, opting not to engage the part-veela in the midst of analyzing the individual play. With an athletic background, focusing his writing on a sport was a plausible pursuit.

It appears the Badgers have not missed a beat after losing Towers. Atlas dominated the hoops effortlessly. Ethen picked up speed in intensive pursuit, possibly catching sight of a glint of gold. Neculai(To Thomas’ disappointment) was banged up from a bludger well struck, though still in the game on a teammate’s broom. The odds favored Hufflepuff, but a change of wind and a friendly bounce was all the Ravens needed to square the odds.

A harsh mutter broke the boy’s focus once more, she did not receive the hint he was here to focus on the action--but what better time than now to slice the tension. Thomas had amends to make, especially after Erin assisted in his escape from a deathly threat. She was not the monster he wanted her to be. “The vendetta lives.” Thomas muttered during the blonde’s impassioned shouts.

Giants, death witches, Erin had it out for them. She explained it to him once, amidst his soggy return where he sulked near the common room fire. His memory could not place the full picture, unable to make sense of her intentions. Perhaps their crimes were a false seed, planted by those that granted the girl a heart. Her job to spread awareness, fueling others to join in their extermination. Perhaps Erin herself was a spawn of these creatures, falsely beautiful until her eighteenth name day. No no, that is too harsh. Erin isn’t as ugly on the inside as she may seem. She is just trying so hard to be.

Through the crowd, someone unbeknownst to Thomas pegged Erin with balled up parchment before offering a greeting. Thomas would not acknowledge the boy with the simple smile and foreign accent directly. “Been making friends, I see.” If Erin chose to approach the boy, Thomas would say no more--allowing her leave. However, if she remained within earshot, the boy would transition to a delicate topic. “I meant to tell you, you know.” Thomas closed his journal, placing it in his pocket along with the quill. If she still requested his attention, she now had it.