Hexwizard Task 1: Beauxbatons v Durmstrang

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Bolded Text: French | Regular Text: English | Color: #BF4040

This was it, the day Florian had been planning for since the summer. He had been doing his best to train after his failures there, attempting to at least compensate somewhat for what he couldn't understand. He shouldn't have failed so badly during the Triathlon, it was really something he couldn't seem to fathom. He would ignore his masterful snitch catch, along with his Capture the Jolly Rodger win, those just seemed like luck to him now after such a horrid attempt at swimming. Swimming. Of all the things to be terrible at. At least this didn't involve swimming of any kind. At least he figured it didn't.

Either way, he felt prepared for his position, and he nodded along with Maximillien. “For Beauxbatons.” he would repeat after him in french.

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Interacts. - ═══════════════════	xx	EN #664d00, GR, RU #A57865 23/10/2022 | In casual wear [x] ═══════════════════	xx	Mentions. Yefim ═══════════════════

It wasn’t Hogwarts the Horde was set to campaign against today, but it would be fun annihilating them all the same. Positioning himself along Durmstrang’s designated side of the board, Lysander soaked in the crowd’s mixed reactions, stretching his neck and shoulders with an effortless roll of the joints. He strained to fully translate Yefim’s more passionate Russian jargon, though the past months within his close vicinity indicated that just about everything that came out of his mouth was borderline insane. The corners of Lysander’s lips could not help but quiver amusedly at the boy’s seriousness, but he would not allow for any distractions. There was a victory to secure.

STATS: STA 12; EVA 20; STR 13; WIS 5; ARC 0; ACC 15 ABILITIES: Evasive Maneuvers I, Evasive Maneuvers II, Charmer, Fearless

ACTIONS: N/A

The school champions: Yefim Rumyantsev (@Flash Holmwood) for Durmstrang and of Beauxbatons

Horntail Horde -- a self-imposed name for this merry band of miscreants would follow in a march behind their Champion, tolerating the sour lass the teen had chosen as his 'special person.' Special person, Erin Ryan was holding hands, substantiating the rumor that there was some sort of relationship between the two of them. She was pretty but her face possessed this sour expression that undid the Veela magic that entranced so many. In her case, it was obvious, beauty was only skin deep. "Why is she angry already?" Felix Kolbeck (@Winnie Harper), resembling a tough Q-tip would inquire. Perhaps it was an attempt to distract himself from the noise of the crowd and the knowledge that everything he did was being watched. "It's not the chicks you should be jealous of, Goldie." A comment that would not escape the part-Veela's ears or the named champion of Durmstrang. Mikael Halldorson (@Percival Rainwood) and Valentin Schnell (@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood) would be in range to hear the comment also. Mikael would look back, not more than a glance towards Valentin, famed Durmstrang Seeker. The boy looked sickly, no, ghostly. He always did. Was he troubled by the cheers and the noise or had he grown accustomed. Perhaps some of Valentin's courage could be shared in that momentary glance

A grip that would be relinquished as Erin was shuffled off towards the bench. She would have a front row seat to the potential carnage and possible victory of Durmstrang. The crowds loved Yefrim and his boisterous poses. There were some expected hecklers amongst the spectators, 'Team Dumpster' and 'Dumb Strangers' being the monikers assigned to the school by their rivals. Yet in spite of the teen's efforts, the deafening roar that came with the spectators that cheered Durmstrang on would outweigh the derisive comments and banners of (a possibly rightfully obtained) ill sentiment.

The crowd did not seem to bother the Niffler in the least. His rivalry with Yefim's special person grounded in jealousy or something else would emerge as the boy lobbed a chocolate frog in the direction of the part Veela.

Accuracy: 15 + 10
Evasion: 15 + 5

The fearless^TM Seeker would not be effected by the waves of dark potential that wafted off of some of these students. The frog would have made it down her collar if it was not for the fact that one of the boys saw this act of deviance and felt compelled (alluring) to 'defend' the girl from this saccharine assault. It would be none other than Lysander Stavrou (Phaedra Stavrou), a boy of few words that would snatch or knock the frog from its intended path. [This is basically a "how do you want to do it scenario." You can make a dramatic mess of things or quietly divert the attack.]

Скоро мы будем пить ихор победы. Пусть ваш голод питает вашу ярость. Мы — орда драконов, обрушившихся на нашу добычу, мы не пожалеем их и не проявим пощады.

Soon, we will be supping the ichor of victory. Let your hunger fuel your ferocity. We are a horde of dragons descending on our prey, we shall not pity them nor shall we show any mercy.

Final words of encouragement by the Durmstrang leader. Amina Petrovic (@Ileen Knight) proudly taking her seat on the benches, the too would have a front row seat to Durmstrang's victory. She lacked the fear and uncertainty that filled the hearts of her classmates, perhaps that was because nobody was depending on her to succeed.

Little Greta Fransson (@Evelynn Decipio) shadowed by Durmstrang student before and after her would betray little of her sentiments as she made her way to the board in an orderly march. She looked even smaller between the beanpole that was the Niffler and the broader teen Romeo Giovanni Marchonné (@Piérre Marchonné) behind her. He was not playing, so he would part company from the rest of the Institute and make his way towards the bench.

Johannes Sauer (@Astrea Soleil Neptune) was immediately behind Romeo. This truly being the culmination of all of their efforts these past several months. He would wonder why they were at Hogwarts yet again for another international event. A question on not only his mind but also the minds of the members of so many other schools -- why did the world seem to revolve around Hogwarts? How was that even fair? What sort of dominance did the school have over other schools? It was a source of angst and anger because they were favored. There were obvious issues, such as the fact that some schools simply lacked the resources. But that was not the case for every school.

Yefim would finish his rousing speech. Cielle Johansen being among the last of them to reach the board. Uansett hva som skjer der borte, er det rart. Whatever is going on over there, it's weird. The crowds would seem to energize Cielle and Yefim antics caused the youth to snort out loud and look at the benched grouping. The last among the Durmstrang students to enter the ballroom and approach their battleground would be Lysander Stavrou (@Phaedra Stavrou), more subdued than his allies. he would find his place along the perimeter of the chessboard.

Они банкет, на котором мы пируем!

They are a banquet, upon which we feast!



Yefim would declare as he stepped onto the checkered board. There should have been an expectation that 'something' would transpire, this was a game that was for the crowds as much as it was for the schools. A demonstration of valor and power. When the boy stepped onto the checkered board, a shimmering light would start to envelope the boy. His clothes would transform and he would don the regalia of a white knight. Gleaming white armor, a lance in hand and even a great white steed that stomped impatiently as it awaited the rest of the Horntail Horde to step onto the chessboard.

Felix would be next. The queen. Perhaps his statement that it was not just the chicks that Erin should be jealous of had another meaning. A large, billowing, white dress that grazed the floor. A fur-trimmed cape would swift side to side as the boy's magical girl transformation took place. A brilliant, crystal crown would adorn his snowy head and a silver scepter would emerge in his hand.

Mikael would amble forth and when the soles of his shoes met the checkered board he too would transform. The rook is symbolic of the 'chariot' and while a rook may look like a castle tower, it was anything but a stationary piece. The word rook comes from the Persian word 'rukh' meaning chariot. Persian War Chariots were heavily armoured, carrying a driver and at least one ranged-weapon bearer, such as an archer. The sides of the chariot were built to resemble fortified stone work, giving the impression of small, mobile buildings, causing terror on the battlefield. And as such, young Mikael would find himself standing in a one-man chariot driven by a single large stallion. The walls of his grand chariot would resemble white marble castle walls, battlement and all.

Before Valentin would step onto the board, Romeo would call out to his friend. "Valetin... Finally the big day, huh? You'll do great."

“Ti meriti di essere quassù, Romeo.” You deserve to be up here, Romeo. Not in English or Russian, but rather Italian. An exchange that their teammates would not likely understand. Was there some hidden animosity regarding who was chosen to represent Durmstrang and who was left on the sidelines.

Hardly a time for small talk, Romeo would hardly notice. "Hey! That's pretty good! There were a couple of wrong inflections (and I know I do them when I speak Russian too...), but that was... shockingly coherent!" ...Ottimo lavoro!" Good work!

The crowd would be watching the whole time while Romeo continued to prattle on. "Now I want to see you use that dedication on the chess field, alright? Focus on the game. It's just like Quidditch except with a little bit of spellwork... And I know you are more than capable of casting spells."

The whole dialogue was clogging up the game. "Rain Hell, Capitano Brina. Captain Frost/Hoarfrost. I'll be here, watching and cheering." Thank Merlin that it was over and Niffler would have his moment. Quite possibly his crowning moment -- he became the white king. His pale features would almost disappear as the shimmering lights ensconced him, when the lights faded the tall, thin boy would find a great, white crown upon his brow and a tunic of white silk and satin embossed with silvery imagery of dragons in combat. His healing hands in jeweled gloves and a grand scepter of silver and crystal would manifest itself in his hand.

Greta, the only one that would fit the conventional trope for team Durmstrang would step onto the chessboard and transform. Priestly vestments would replace her likely adorable attire. The little firecracker would filled with tall, broad athletes, a sickly albino and an adorable little girl? It was a strange combination.

Johannes would serve as the second bishop for team Durmstrang. A tall white hat and a white. His linen-white cassock beneath crisp white liturgical garments made of a silk-like cloth. The large, pearl-like buttons were closed and he and Greta both would find a massive book in hand. No, it was not the 'bible' this game is non-denominational. Just a really large book that was good for bludgeoning.

Ceille would step onto the board and be transformed into a white knight. Shining white plate armor that is even heavier than she would have fathomed. A massive lance magically placed in her hand and an impatient horse beneath the saddle. Did she know how to ride horses? Well, it did not matter because she was already riding one.

Lysander was the rook, or as non-chess players would call them, the castle. A single driver chariot driven by a gallant white horse, donning pristine white leather armor. The last among them to change, he would be able to look to either side and see his classmates in a new light (or at least attire).

The magical boy/girl transformation having taken place, Amina full of team spirit would cry out: "Не смей проигрывать! Ты легко выиграешь!” Don't you dare lose! You'll win this easily!

_______________________

It was hard being first. First at anything. If someone else led the way, all you had to do was follow the path that someone else blazed. It was easy to follow and it was hard to lead. There was a sense of creeping dis-ease that was rightfully felt - people were wondering 'why.' She was the only daughter of a former Hogwarts Head of House, Caradoc Browne. Before he decided to leave his role in academia to pursue his true love, postal service? Well, he was a strange sort of man. He was also hiding a suspected madman so little could be said in favor of his choices. Being in the public eye like this was ore dangerous than even the former Hufflepuff could have realized. But she was not alone.

Madeleine Nakamura (@Aaron Jones) was not only Cassie's special person but also Angel's. A strange dynamic nobody had ever attempted to delve into. Was there some sort of friendship or relationship between them or was she just the person people were supposed to point to and claim 'she is my special person!' It led to a lot of confusion as a last minute swap from Angélique "Angel" de Clairmont (@Santario Martin) to Cassanora Browne (@Hugh Lowe). The dynamic becomes more muddled if Angel were to realize who was in those stands watching this game. Madeleine's life possibly saved by this last minute change and the shared friendship between her and Cassanora. Little did any of them know, the very people that had killed Angel's parents were in those stands watching the game.

The energetic buzz of the crowd was overwhelming. The petite girl would see reporters, members of the Ministry of Magic and yes, members from even her own French Ministry even if she did not know them by name were among the onlookers. The wizarding radio networks were broadcasting the game live. "Bonne chance Cass. Vous et l'équipe serez incroyables" Good luck, Cass. You and the team will be amazing.

After Cassanora's special person came Cassie Heather McGregor-Martin (@Lucia Fox) would be filled with a nervous energy as she entered the ballroom. "Gagnons ça!" Let's win this! Milo Durand (@Delilah Stewart) would declare. Words of encouragement, of their impending victory over a seemingly confident opposition. Maximilien "Maxi" de Fostoncy (@Lindsey Springhall) would follow the duo out to the board.

Roberta Martin (@Sylvain Wyllt) had earned herself some attention from Durmstrang, initially from only Felix but likely later from others -- possibly Yefim or Erin. Either that or she was real popular among the boys and the envy of more than a few girls in this ballroom event. A wink to Felix, a nod to Greta and a blown kiss and flirty eyebrow wiggle to Yefim. She knew how to play the mind games that should come from such competitions.

"Nerveux, roi?" Nervous, King? Cassanora was a bit ahead of Roberta in the marching order but she could hear the girl call out.

"Ils vont nous donner un bon match, et nous allons leur apprendre le sens du triomphe glorieux, mais ne les sous-estimons pas." They are going to give us a good match, and we are going to teach them the meaning of glorious triumph, but let's not underestimate them. It was true, even if they were even in terms of skill, the both of them had likely spent weeks preparing for this task. Their honor and dignity on the line as they made a public display of their worth and potential.

"Et vous, ma Reine. Pas de fraternisation avec les ennemis." And you, my Queen. No fraternizing with the enemies. Amaury Favreau (@Cecily Quinn) was a fair distance behind Roberta. She would have to call past @André Alarie to made the comment to the French Casanova.

"J'oserais pas," he would comment in reply with a slight smile.

"Salut toi," Hey you André would call ahead to Maximilien. Was this an attempt to alleviate his own anxiety or his friends? "C'est maintenant ou jamais" It's now or never. Durmstrang was one of those schools that was rather known and in many cases reviled. At least they were going toe to toe with them early on. That was a good thing right? No, Durmstrang should be relieved that they are getting to deal with Beauxbatons now rather than later! A shoulder squeeze and departing comment, "Bonne chance." Good luck. The two of them would find their places along the periphery of the chessboard.

Florian Yres LeRoy (@Starlee Kennedy) would be the last pair to enter the ballroom for team Beauxbatons. Their presence met with cheers and excitement. Subdued like their peers, they would enter without incident or drama.



Cassanora was the first to step on the checkered board. She would find herself covered in a shimmer that would obfuscate the transformation from the smart blue uniform she had donned walking into this ballroom. She was no longer just Caradoc Browne's little girl, she was the black king. Traditional gender rules be damned, she was the king. A shining black crown on her brow and a black tunic of satin and silk. A heavy, fur-trimmed cloak would shift behind her and a black scepter with a massive mystic topaz on its head.

Hell, they looked bad-ass. Milo would step onto the chessboard and Milo would start to change. He was one of the rooks. The Persian 'rokh' became the Italian word 'rocca,' when the game was imported to Italy meaning 'fortress.' Possibly a mistranslation among muggles that does not persist among wizards. The teen would find himself in black leather armor in a single-person chariot driven by a singular massive horse that looked more like a demon than a stallion.

Maxililien's right hand over his heart he would announce simply "For Beauxbatons.” The change he would undergo would not hurt as he found himself seated on the saddle of a large, black horse donning gleaming black armor with a lance in hand.

Roberta, hardly seeming like the religious type would step onto the board and at least stay true to the otherwise mostly inverted magical girls trope as she transformed into a Bishop. Indeed, she wore the priestly vestments of a holy (wo)man. From the stiff biretta to the long, silken black robes she now donned as their dark bishop.

André would also become a holy man. Wearing the same large hat that gave him even greater height. His black beneath his dark liturgical garments was made of a silk-like cloth. The large, obsidian-like buttons were closed and he and Roberta both would find a massive book in hand. No, it was not the 'bible' this game is non-denominational. Just a really large book that was good for bludgeoning.

Roberta's queen indeed, Amaury would step onto the checkered board and would somehow due to glamorous black ballgown that was encrusted with dark jewels and a cloak lined with soft black fur. A crown that could remind some of brambles and thorns but far too intricate. Admittedly, the dress was a 'bit much' for Amaury but he looked great all the same. Amaury was the black queen, one of the most powerful pieces on the chessboard.

Florian was the last among the Beauxbaton students to step onto the board. The change was abrupt and more dramatic than the boy was possibly prepared for. A shimmering gleaming transformation from a simply attired student to... the driver of a chariot with walls reminiscent of battlements.

Once the entire team had been lined up in the regalia of a dark royal war party, Cassanora would have a belated speech of her own.



"Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day’s rising
We'll come singing in the sun, swords unsheathing.
To hope’s end we'll ride, and to heart’s breaking:
Now for wrath, now for ruin and the red knight's fall!"

The first round of actions comes this next week. Talk about your transformation or the dynamics of your friends. This will be your first actions. Remember the word count is reduced to 50 words as a minimum. You have until the end of next Friday.

Q&A: Yes, magical girl sequence transformation. Have fun with it.

Yefim was proud of his gaggle, taking a short moment to look at them each before heading to the spot he belonged. Cici's laugh would make him laugh, along with a sense that she would have his back if he needed it. Mik on the other hand did not look altogether there, but that was a never ending problem for the lost boy. While Yefim was devoted to lifting Mik up, giving him a golden ring as a reminder that he was always there beside him, it would not be enough to 'fix' him. Going out and having fun, making a whole bunch of new friends, and showing their superiority on the grand stage were all things that made Yefim feel special, happy, and excited for life. How was it that Mik's eyes still looked deep into the void?

It was Valya and Rome who garnered the most attention, and how they stayed beside one another like it was painful to be separate. Yefim knew that they were Quidditch captains together, but he had not returned to Quidditch as many of the Horntails did. He did not get to see their relationship grow and change, he still remembered Romeo as the person trying to stop him from getting revenge for the injustice against Niffler in their first international game. Then again, they arguably got better revenge by winning this last summer, but Yefim was proud of the broken leg he earned defending Valya's honor. He had only allowed Romeo on the team at his insistence, and was indeed impressed with his strength and skill. Still, were his intentions really good enough for Valya, did he even understand how special the white immortal was? Well, Valya had a ring of his as well, though its purchase on his finger was more tenuous than Yefim could have expected.

The opposing team would mostly speak only French, but it was not like he cared much what they were saying. He recognized a few of them-- one of them was the annoying pest who attacked him during the summer broom race, one of them was the girl he harassed in the courtyard just a few days ago, and the other was Roberta, the only one he knew the name of for sure. She blew a kiss, which would make him smile and wave like someone seeing an old friend. She had been his Queen the last time he dueled on a chessboard, and they won too. He interpreted the action as a wish of luck-- as some kind of sign that she knew Yefim was the one who deserved the win for his superior training and tactics. He was a bad interpreter. It was too bad she was not on his side, they had similar feelings on winning, and he liked having that kind of devotion working for him. Instead, she would be another victim of the horde.

As Yefim took his spot, the only champion to choose the knight position, he would find the space beneath him alight with a bright glow that turned into a horse. He got to watch the others change as well, laughing heartily when it became Felix's turn. Everyone looked amazing, gleaming in beautiful shining white to blind the enemy. No doubt many in the crowd imagined Yefim in dark armor, not realizing he was the one fighting on the side of the good and the just. Just because the world was not ready to forego their creature comforts for the harsh reality of truth and justice, did not mean he would ease his lance. He gave the magically conjured beast a pat on the side of the neck, a great fondness for the tall and powerful creature.

Mik was right next to him, on his left, also with a mighty white horse that was instead pulling him along with a chariot. Yefim would smile at him, hoping he would see the love in his eyes. Yes, an avatar of chaos could love, and he loved Misha. They were hardly good for one another-- a friendship built on loss, delusion, and violence-- but it was certainly better than being all alone in the world, wasn't it? Yefim did not know what would happen to him or Misha when he ascended, but Yefim was certain it would be the end of their suffering. At that time, he could destroy the structures of society that let Mik's house fall to madness and decay, he would abolish the system that put Valya's father in prison for righteous revenge. Everything would be anarchy and love. They would all see.

[”Erase the image of the crowd in your mind, they are a distraction.”] Yefim would do his version of a pep talk, one that manipulated Mikael into monomania at his service. When one believed what the two of them believed, it could be mistaken for caring loyalty. [”All that exists is our forces, and the enemy. Protect our forces, destroy the enemy. You are my providence.”]

Yefim would pull on the reigns of his own steed, hoping to get it to rear and whinny and get the attention of his opponents. Their own champion had chosen king, one that looked insecure and no doubt would choose to hide behind her ranks like a coward. The illusion of safety would be crushed as his well-organized team swept through them with their claws and fangs. He would then level his lance in her direction, with the demonic glee of a child picking out the candy they wanted from the store.

[”Dethrone the pretender.”] He would speak in Russian again. There was no need for these teams to communicate. They were both at the top of their game, and they both wanted to prove their superiority to Hogwarts. Unfortunately for Beauxbatons, they were fated to fail.

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide. Durmstrang Institute's

Romeo Giovanni Marchonné

"English." "Italiano. Italian." "Russian."

| Faint Scar on Left Eye & Mangled Right Ear | \ Fingerless Glove on Right Hand / | Lichtenberg Figure on Right Arm and Down Back |

Valetin Schnell
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

The light emanating from the board(s) as each player underwent their transformations forced me to shield my eyes a bit and blink rapidly to rid myself of those nasty black spots in my vision. When the worst of it had finally faded away, I beheld our new and decked out team in whitest white, poised up against their black piece foes.

The shiny silver and white silk befitted our team much better than the black did, if you asked me, especially Valetin, the king over the rest of them. Captain in Quidditch, the heart of the chess board, it was a perfect role for him. Of course I was a tad envious. I wanted to be on that board as well, as a white knight... or as any other piece that I was needed for. Though, as I beheld dazzling Feliciano [Felix] with a bemused smirk and mild humor, I found myself a bit grateful that I wasn't going to be playing the role of the Queen. It looked... a little uncomfortable.

I leaned back again and crossed my arms with a small hum, watching the game unfold. My eyes narrow. I was going to be watching for all the fatal flaws; both on our side and on theirs.

"Pioggia Inferno Rain Hell, Horntail Horde..."

Action: Benched but Ready to Heal

Reducio

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 7 | Strength 15 Ω
Ω Accuracy 15 | Wisdom 9 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω

Beautiful banner by syl | -stats have been updated since, if you're looking for them, check Dré's trunk
Roleplaying as André Alarie from Beauxbatons - peek at his ency here!
short post because I've been busy this week
Language | French | English in italics | Russian is Underlined

André has been learning phrases from the languages of participating schools in the hexwizard tournament done for the specific intent of talking smack(trash talk). Even poor Maxi wasn't let in on his plan because André was aware he wouldn't get away with it otherwise

Stepping onto the board and taking his place, Andre smirked to himself amidst the transformation moment. Once finished he would give himself a moment to take in the costume and his state of dress. The hat his dark liturgical garments, the nice buttons, the book he now held in hand. He hummed he himself quietly inspecting and appreciating it all. What better way to put them into character and objectify them as chess pieces? Andre could think of none. In the midst the it all he would would move to smooth out any wrinkles, and when he felt satisfied, would turn his head in order to glance over and get a good look at Maxi. Not bad. Not bad at all.

rping as cielle johansen.
mentions horntail horde.

Cielle watched the space around her transform into very heavy armour, brown eyes wide with wonder. The horse materialising beneath her startled her slightly, and to her horror, she almost dropped the lance when trying to get a hold of the reins. Fucking hell, she really needed to focus if she wanted to help Durmstrang win this thing. Her brows furrowed as a sudden wave of doubt washed over her, wondering if perhaps Yefim had chosen wrong in letting her join the team. Gripping the reins in her hand, Cielle swallowed, trying not to let it show on her face, and the crowd that had energized her moments earlier suddenly seemed overwhelming and frightening. All these people here to watch her let her team down...

She heard Yefim laughing from his place on the board, and turned her head to see Felix in a billowing dress and cape with a fur trim. His laughter brought out her broad smile once again, instantly making her feel reassured. Cielle loosened her grip on the reins, patting the neck of the horse to calm it (him? her?) down, and readjusted the lance in her hand. There was an uncharacteristic solemnity in her gaze as she looked across the board at the opposition. [IN RUSSIAN] "Bring it on."

Action: as strategized
Paragon of health allies: Yefim and Mikael
Lovely creature opponents: Beauxbatons team

sta 11 | str 15 | eva 9 | wis 3 | arc 3 | acc 12
lovely creature, statistically relevant (eva), fearless, paragon of health

edit 5 nov: added lovely creature opponents

𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙵𝙸𝚃: Reducio

│ │ │

▪ 𝙴𝙽𝙲𝚈 ▪ ▪ FELIX ▪ KOLBECK ▪ ▪ DURMSTRANG iNPC ▪ FOURTH YEAR ▪

│ │ │

𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂: Reducio @Flash Holmwood as Yef @Ileen Knight as Mimi

WHAT. THE. FUCK? He had felt the weight of the gown before he had even glanced downwards, his face paling when the realization hit him. Wait-- he hadn't signed up for this. It was bad enough he didn't get to wear what he wanted, but now he didn't get to wear PANTS? He had to wear a fucking skirt in front of Amina, Romeo... The entire wizarding community. He had to bite his inner lip to keep from screaming at whoever the hell was behind this. It was with a scowl he would collect the layers of the gown and hike it upwards so he could make his way towards his position on the board.

He couldn't let people see it bothered him. He just had to play it cool and--... Then Yef laughed and he felt his face starting to burn. The pink of his cheeks was probably quite obvious given the sheer amount of white he was wearing paired with his snowy tresses and naturally pale complexion. "I'm going to kill whoever was in charge of these fucking outfits." He grumbled in Russian at his friend. "Let's win this thing." The sooner the better.

Action: As strategized.

Song Inspiraton

The taste of cotton filled his mouth as Valentin boldly smiled at him. In the past, the shining light of the lighthouse would have been enough to cast away the dark overhang of the clouds. Yet, now.... Mikael's frown deepened as he looked forward unsure what to make of the white-haired boy. Something had been bothering him since the moment they had met under the decaying tree. Something between them was whimpering. As if calling out for help, and yet he felt nothing. It was a feeling he was accustomed too, but this felt different. Should he not be worried for the light?

Mikael was not too sure why Yefim had not been more worried about the boy's betrayal. It had itched away at the top layers of his skin. Pulling him inward as he desperately lashed out. To betray Yefim was to betray something far above them, and it was unacceptable. Mikael's brows furrowed in concentration. Even if the other could not see it. He was the protector of Yefim, and he would not allow that boy to betray Yefim. Lest he failed his mission. Mikael tightened his hands together in fists as he walked up onto the platform.

His gaze drifted towards Yefim slightly before snapping back to his feet. As a chariot appeared beneath his feet. Mikael felt a nervous frown cross his features before grabbing at the reigns that draped over the front of the chariot. His eyes caught the form of the horse in front of him. Though, his mind was quickly swept away by the call of Yefim. Mikael turned his gaze towards the boy as familiar words reached his ears. Something that he had grown accustomed to. Something that he had been born to do, and he would continue to do until the end of time. Mikael closed his eyes briefly tipping his upward. The sound of lapping water drowned out the noise of the crowd. The outreach of an ethereal hand flickered through his mind. Mikael's eyes snapped open and a faint smile crossed his face before turning to look back at the game. He wasn't alone.

| Stamina 10 | Evasion 8 | Strength 12 | Wisdom 6 | Arcane Power 6 | Accuracy 10 |

Lovely Creature - Terrible Presense - Perfectionist - Fearless

@Flash Holmwood, @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

wonderful banner made by Sylvain Wyllt!

If you had asked Cassie this morning what would calm her nerves before beginning the first task, she definitely wouldn't have said Milo Durand. The two had a strange relationship in that neither particularly liked the other - a rivaly sparked by mutual protectiveness of Milo's younger sister - but they set that aside for sports, including the hexiwizard. And now it was Milo who looked over at Cassie, and Cassie knew that it was all okay. It was pointless being worried, because Beauxbatons was going to smash these Durmstrang cheats to the ground.

Reducio

Stamina | 10
Evasion | 11
Strength | 10
Wisdom | 7
Arcane Power | 4
Accuracy | 11

Sixth sense
Fearless
Muggle condition
Impartial

Allies are all Beauxbatons teammates