Teasing and Translations PV Slava (R.C) Finished

Glowing inside, Margo tried to hide her smile. In her personal experience, teenagers often had issues with love, or at least admitting to love. Some quick flirting? Oh sure. But actually caring about someone? Oh Merlin, now how on Earth would they go about admitting to that? And believe it or not, motherly love was some of the worst. Margo couldn’t count the times that her brother Toby had shrugged off their mother’s fussing in public... Well, okay, she did that too. But just because it hindered her chances at adventure! Margo wasn’t above such nonsense — she just had more sound reasoning! Slava, however, truly seemed to rise above society’s expectations. If Margo wasn’t so annoyed at having lost the moral competition, she might have even admired him.

As it was, she had to hide her smile and keep playing the game. And it was a fun game too. “Well good for her, I’ll make sure to say your beloved little Russian phrase the next time I see her.” Margo tried to sound as earnest as possible. That way, he might get confused and let down his guard.

She grinned. It was the perfect way to introduce her next attempt at public humiliation.“So, Slava the supposedly valiant, are you prepared for the bare chested initiation dance?” She paused for dramatic effect. “It’s an old British tradition. Rumour has it there’s an old law saying you can’t play if you don’t join. Nobody’s ever refused, you see, so we don’t know for sure. I guess most people don’t want to tempt fate and have to sit on the sidelines. It’s my favourite part of the match, actually, all the players hollering and spinning around like hooligans... lovely.”

RPing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky

Margo seemed awfully eager and happy when she said that she would say the Russian phrase to his mother. What? This girl was confusing. Were all British people like this? The boy who was typically so energetic that he irritated the people around him by never shutting up was at a loss for words, stunned into silence. He quickly tried to recover and ignore the fact that she had likely won that battle, focusing instead on her next comment.

With an eyebrow raised, he contemplated her words. “Girls play. They do not do that?” he said bluntly. That was a flaw in her argument, right? It was a bare-chested dance, and surely no one would ask teenage females to do that. “What… dance? I was not told of a dance.” Maybe because it isn't real, he thought. No, he didn't believe her. Quidditch players wouldn't be involved in a stupid dance, would they?

Maybe the British liked to embarrass themselves that way but he would not want to waste his energy on that. It would put him at a disadvantage if he started the game tired and out of breath. Perhaps the second string players could do it to warm up and keep active, as they generally had time to settle down and catch their breath, but it made no sense for the first string to do it.

Margo blinked. “The females keep their shirts, obviously. It’s a bit like the haka in the muggle world, d’you know it? Each team is slightly different but it’s based off of their country of origin.”

And no, Margo did not know a lot about the muggle world. She did not know what a telly-wision did or how the ant-i-net worked. But, thanks to her paternal grandfather, who loved rugby so much that he hugged a deflated rugby ball to sleep each night (hey, no family’s perfect okay), she knew all about the haka. When she was five she’d even tried to make her own and smeared mud across her cheeks to get the message across that ‘she was no’ messin ‘round’. Rugby tackling also came in handy trying to make an older brother and excitable puppy take you seriously when you have a lisp. Actions speak louder than words.

Which was why Margo let her eyes widen comically and her hand rush to cover her gaping mouth when Slava spoke. “Are you telling me that Durmstrang doesn’t have a dance?” She gasped. “Oh no, no, no. I don’t know if you’ll be allowed to play...”

Pity. Wasn’t like she was deeply rooting for Hogwarts or anything...

RPing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky

Slava frowned as he pondered how to approach the situation. Margo clearly had the upper hand at the moment in their battle to see who could fool the other person best, but he couldn't just accept defeat! However, he had no clue what she was talking about or how to convince her that Durmstrang was worthy. “Haka? I do not know it. But Durmstrang dance? Durmstrang has a dance.” He paused as if to recall it, tilting his head to one side and staring off into space as if he had just remembered it after all. Of course, there was no such thing, but it would do no harm if he played along a little bit.

What would Max do if he was in this situation and had to fully convince someone? Slava quickly brushed that thought away when he realised that the answer was "flirt". No, he could do this in Slava fashion and come out victorious on his own. He considered dancing for her—would that be convincing enough? A small smile danced on his lips as he imagined it, but he resigned himself instead to talking his way out of this, a gracious smile now on his face. “And… what is the Hogwarts dance?” he asked, accent thick as he tried to figure out what kind of thing Margo was expecting. “We… we do not practice the dance Durmstrang a lot. Not how you at Hogwarts do. I forgot we have one.” He nodded in an attempt to affirm his words. “But we do. I will play and destroy your team.”

Margo had to work hard to keep her jaw from flapping open. Such was her shock at Slava’s comeback. “You-you have a dance?” She gasped, only just holding in her laughter. “Oh Slava, my friend, our dance is spectacular. Prepare to be outshined in both dancing and Quidditch.”

Margo was having more fun with this boy than she had in weeks. She dearly hoped it would continue. But... what if the Durmstrang dance really was that intimidating? Perhaps she should go and warn the Hogwarts team. But what would would she even say? Somehow she didn’t think ’watch out! Durmstrang are planning to dance you to death.’ would be taken very seriously. Or wait! What if she was honest about the whole situation and told them: ’So I was having a flirting teasing match with this Russian dude and he jokingly told me that they might rip their shirts off on the field.’? But no... that was a bit too much information to lump onto a room full of strangers. Even if they were supposed to be kind.

Margo internally shrugged and decided that she’d just have to let it go. It would most likely be hilarious if Durmstrang managed to scratch together a dance. And hey, maybe she could even get Slava to demonstrate!

RPing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky

Margo gasped and seemed surprised at the dance, too surprised. So Hogwarts didn't have a dance, did they? The thirteen year old mentally patted himself on the back for figuring this out and confirming his suspicion. He was now convinced that he was the greatest detective, because who else would have come to a conclusion as brilliant as that? Well, maybe he wasn't the best of the best, because for a second there, he might have believed that here in Britain, the Quidditch players were stupid and wasted their energy on dancing before a game. Wasn't that what cheerleaders were supposed to do, not the actual players? Was Margo not familiar with the concept of having cheerleaders instead, or was British culture really so weird that it wasn't out of the question for people to dance before playing a sport?

It would be a mystery that would never be solved, however, because the young boy's thoughts were fleeting and he believed in enjoying the present. “Spectacular, eh? I would like to see you do it? And you should save yourself from embarrassment. No one could be better than me at Quidditch, you will see.” He smirked, sure that she would have to agree after she saw the game. He was Slava Preobrazhensky, the mighty beater! His brother was Maksim, the perfectionist who could excel in school and get all the girls and maybe even the boys too. If Slava wasn't impressive enough with his own skills as a beater, spending so much time around his brother surely meant that the other boy's talents would have rubbed off on him a bit. At the very least, he was a little more charming—or so he liked to think—than he would have been otherwise.

Margo scoffed, back-pedalling with the skill of a toddler on a tricycle. “Oh I don’t know the dance. Only the Quidditch players do - it’s practically sacred.”

Her smirk slid back into place with a reassuring click... or maybe that was just her jaw. Margo had a strangely loud jaw. It sometimes hindered her skill as an ‘eloquent’ and charismatic speaker, but then again, she liked to be unique. And whilst cracking one’s knuckles was fairly common, cracking one’s jaw was on a whole new level... not that she actually needed her joints to make strange noises in order to stand out.

Her smirk grew as she caught sight of Slava’s own triumphant smile. It wouldn’t be there for much longer if she had anything to say about it. “I’ll be watching in the stands during the match. Though I hardly need to be a Seer to know that Hogwarts will win. You might want to tell me your player number or whatever it’s called, by the way.” Oh dear, was her limited Quidditch knowledge showing again? ”That way I can keep an eye on you during the shirtless initiation dance.”

A mischievous glint crossed with something a little more sincere flickered in her eyes. “But I think I should save you from total embarrassment before the game. So c’mon, just give me a small preview?”

RPing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky

Slava laughed at Margo's attempt to backpedal, catching a flaw in her argument that he could comment on. “How can you not know it? You said it was your favourite part of the match, with the shouting and spinning, did you not?” A cheeky light shone in his eyes as he pointed out the mistake. He wasn't the smartest around, but he was decent at arguments and picked up on the inconsistency. He tended to pay attention to specific things that were said when he was interested in the person speaking, which was happening right now.

She claimed that Hogwarts would win and he had to roll his eyes and shake his head rapidly. “That is your imagination. Durmstrang could beat Hogwarts any day. And the dance is a surprise, sorry I cannot show you yet. It would be unfair to all those other lovely spectators who did not have the privilege of a preview.” He flashed her a smirk. He would claim that he would love to demonstrate it for her, but really they both knew that there was no actual dance that would take place unless they made one up on the spot. Unless she was willing to dance, that was unlikely to happen today.

Uh oh, now Margo was really grabbing at straws. It was taking all her willpower just to quell the blush on her cheeks. Damn this boy! She’d really have to drag out her acting skills now. Luckily, Slava had just given her the answer she needed. Big mistake (on his part, of course, her conversation skills were flawless!)

“But, you see, I couldn’t possibly do the dance justice.” Margo shook her head in feigned dismay. “It’s a surprise — just like you said." Her smirk was a bit too mischievous for her to be fully convincing... no matter.

"Surely you can understand that the team’s swishing robes and polished broomsticks would make it a thousand times better than I ever could. But you’re a handsome Quidditch player. You could do it justice."

Margo thought for a second. It would be too easy for him to say no, too easy to weasel out of another of her... friendly manipulations. Because, no matter what she may have told him, she did actually enjoy winding the Russian boy up. Which was exactly why she was going to continue.

"So are you reducing me to the status of a mere fan? I thought we had something special, you know, something precious... A real enmity of sorts.”

RPing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky

Slava was absolutely convinced that he had won. Surely there was no way that she could come back from that. She would be forced to admit that there was no dance after all!

Damn it. Maybe not. Somehow, she managed to wriggle out of it, saying that she couldn't do it. “Really? I did not think you were one to back out so easily, to insist that you could not do something well. And I am handsome, glad you noticed. As you can see, however, I do not have my gear. I hope you understand that I have many admirers and I would be here all day if I had to put on my gear and do special performances for all of them.”

She seemed offended—jokingly—at him grouping her with everyone else. “No, my lady, deepest apologies… you are more than just a fan. Enmity… yes, yes. Would you do me the honor of being my nemesis?” He grinned broadly at her. He liked this Margo, he liked her a lot. They may have just met, but it was easy to talk to her, to mess around with her without either of them getting angry.

No, she was definitely so much more than a mere fan.