Hexwizard Spectators Thread

Acknowledging with a smile sent her way accompanied by a wave, Aurelia assumed that her message was successfully relayed as Maxi fixated his attention back on the match. Of course, the girl caught her dashing boy Lysander staring, if only just recovering from a hit of a spell to the face whilst appearing unaffected at all. Wow. "No, he's not in a gown and tiara." The queen that Winnie had been heckling was not Lysander.

After all she revealed in summer camp, things between them had been a huge question mark. Nor did it help that this moment was the first time Lysander had noticed her in months. And when he turned his gaze to the match without so much as acknowledging her, it felt like a slap that stung her cheeks red. Despite trying to convince herself that Lysander was just focusing on the game as he should, it stirred an unpleasant mix of sentiments in her chest. If giving him space meant she had to feel this way, then so be it written.

She needed a distraction as Lysander had his own, taking a brutal clash towards the Beauxbaton's dark queen. Aurelia hadn't noticed the extent of damage her recent impact on Alec made until George pointed it out, offering to heal the poor boy. "Oh, I am so sorry. I really need to be more careful with those claws," She apologised, feeling fairly guilty that her mishap had caused her friend some pain. Then she would do the unexpected, leaning in, pressing a kiss to Alec's cheek, "Consider this an apology if you may." Aurelia wasn't one for subtleties. Her eyes were not on the Durmstrang match, the girl would purposely avoid looking in that direction yet her intentions were all the more apparent.

"Haven't you read headliner's T.ruth? I still have quite a vendetta against Hogwarts' champion." Aurelia admitted at George's reprimand for not supporting her own school. Of course, rumours had it that she baited the dhampir, but she wasn't quite sure where those rumours had settled after those months. Aurelia and Howard knew their own truth, she couldn't care less what others thought happened. In fact, it would be very soon that Aurelia would set to remove the only evidence that it ever happened: that unsightly scar on her neck.

The rather enthusiastic scarlet raven left Thomas to ponder on the girl’s evolution a tad longer. Not mistaking her tumultuous roars for Hogwarts pride, as she seemed rather focused on a few individuals. Such as the Durmstrang queen, or a boy by the name of Matthias Pride. Her bias for those she favored expounded her passionate nature as an individual. A passion Thomas would exploit given the chance.

Simply for the money? The enigmatic Lestrange moving past his broody daddy issues to prioritize coin? No, Thomas was the living, breathing embodiment of humility for all of Hogwarts. A dose much needed, a role he gave himself, born from a short sighted repression of his status at Hogwarts. The minuscule purpose of sports betting was merely a bargaining chip for future dates.

Having fallen two years behind his original classmates, his act grew dull. Others bored with the coming and going of Lestrange, a story told time and time again, desperate for a fresh breath. Today would begin his reemergence into the relevant social circles of the school, benefiting from the designs of Howard and Hogwarts team immensely in this process. The truth was Thomas had likened the spotlight his association with crones had provided, chased and sought after by countless students. A helpless band of fools they were to think they stood a chance against the forces that surrounded the castle.

With typical still features, Thomas nodded in modest gratitude for the return of his ring. ”Oh, I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” It’s true, his wand was around there somewhere. Eyes flickering to the ring upon his reception, his ear twitching in slight annoyance from the girl's comment. Placing the ring back within the confines of his pockets before his gaze slowly traveled back into a link with her eyes. ”The importance of these things is arguable.” Despite the gruff tone, the dulled expression morphed into a pleasant smile towards the end of his statement.

”Tell me, Winnie…fred. Was it Winnie, or Freddie, Winniefreddie, yes?” Thomas recalled her name, only toying with the girl to see how little it took to rattle her. ”No matter. Tell me…” He continued with his original inquisition. ”This Matthias as you call him, what’s the appeal? A giraffe animagus, perhaps?” The delivery of Thomas’ tone was pleasant, yet an undertone of conceit was easy to spy for those that knew him.

Enter Hollywood Holms as Thomas internally dubbed the former socialite of Slytherin. Now more of a despondent insecure mess of a boy, Thomas having appreciation for the latter version. Though make no mistake, Flash was one of the few students Thomas would contain any remote strings of fondness for. As Flash took his seat beside Lestrange, he swiftly buried a natural smile that attempted to form. ”Whichever you fancy.” Thomas bit his tongue having a slight concept of Flash’s sports knowledge as demonstrated by his impressive play by play analysis years ago. To put it simply, Flash was far too knowledgeable to be among his targets of exploits.

The boy held his tongue from further engagement as Winnie and Flash appeared to have familiarity with each other. Thomas straightened his back in a retreat to provide the pair with better vision in their introductions, adding a few comments in jest amidst their conversation. ”His eye indeed.” and ”Never too early for a scotch.” As Flash passed along an amber vial which even a fool may suspect was some form of potion, but we all know Thomas lied on his own tier of idiocy.

As the pair caught up, Thomas would continue surveillance of the audience. Finding among them another series of familiar faces. Having history with the Aurelia’s, Pierre’s, Shrodinger’s… Thomas scrunching his nose in animosity toward the feline in Xailah’s lap, easily among the most condescending characters in the room. Though one party in particular left his lips parting, narrow blue eyes honed on the entrance of Falentra Black. He’d stare in her direction for a while to see if it drew any reaction, though if not, returning his attention to the relevant conversation at hand. And more importantly, his mission for the evening.

Primary: @Flash Holmwood | @Winnie Harper

Dialogue: X | Thoughts: X

Outfit:

Reducio

The Ballroom was full with noises! People were talking, others screaming, a lot were cheering for their friends and school... There was also the sound of stone sliding on stone and metal hitting and breaking things! The short-haired girl smiled back at her and leaned a little more towards her so they could hear better at each other. She laughed at Irina's previous answer and declared her lack of desire to try on playing wizzard's chess herself. "Oh but is so fun! A properly sized one wouldn't hurt you!" Irina assured her. As soon as those words left her mouth, someone got hit pretty hard and Irina cringed with a grimace at seeing the poor soul manage through that blow, "Uuff...Merlin that must have hurt!" her new acquaintance seemed to also share her feelings "Looks painful." she admitted.

Irina introduced herself and the girl was about to do the same when someone else had approach them. She felt him slid on the seat and came near her, she quickly turned her gaze from the girl and looked at the opposite direction to see who had arrived. It was the dark-haired boy Slytherin with whom she had spoken once or twice. Lucian, if her memory wasn't failing her. “Fancy se-seeing you here,” He greeted her, while running his hand through his hair. The gesture made her think that the boy must be a little conceited about it, and she laughed a little at the realization. “Who’s your- your friend?” He asked mentioning the girl on her other side, “Frat- fraternizing with ano- another house, eh?” he said smirking at her. She gave a small giggle before answering him, "She was about to introduce herself to me when you interrupted us Lucian!" She informed him, "And I have no problems in making friends despite their houses!"

He directed his attention to the girl with bright blue eyes, that now appeared to be a little bit nervous, “Well? What are you?” he asked, and Irina looked at him with a reproachful stare and muttered just for him to hear, "Don't be rude!"

"Oh!" the red-haired girl said when realizing he was talking to her. Smiling she was finally able to say her name to them, "Uh, Avery McCall, first year Hufflepuff. Good to meet you both. Fraternizing with other houses not something you do a lot?" She finished asking.

"Nice to meet you Avery!" Irina said with a kind smile, "I have a good friend in your house actually she's Rita Su! Do you know her? She's a sweet!" It was true, she always had fun with her friend and her beautiful cat Peanut! "Don't mind him! He's not always like that!" She finished smiling at Avery but her elbow found Lucian's ribs with a warning for him to behave.

Werewolf Stats:

Stamina: 4 | Evasion: 5 | Strength: 4 | Wisdom: 5 | ArcPower: 6| Accuracy: 6

Inventory:
- Wand
- her purse with her sketchbook and drawing supplies.

Open to Interactions

Word count: 344/200
Mentions:
@Kim Sato || @Colin McCloire || @Clair Fernandez

Bailey liked to think she knew her best friend Kim pretty well. I mean, aren’t best friends supposed to know each other really well?
After she mentioned Kim having lots of other people she could have gone with, Kim spoke, and what he said shed some light on his thoughts.
“That does make sense- though there are only a few people that I’d go out of my way to avoid spending time with.”
After a moments thought, she continued “and if I’m ever invading your space, or your life too much just tell me and I can back off. I do know how to respect people’s space, however much it doesn’t seem like it.”
Kim smirked and then mentioned how people probably didn’t want him to interrupt their lives, and she was about to argue when he continued.
Kim used their friend @Colin McCoire as an example.
It was a valid argument, and Bailey spoke up saying “First up, I doubt anyone would turn down spending time with you, especially with your cute face. Second, coco does seem to get hyper focused on his loves, but hopefully him and Clair get more stable and we will be able to spend more time with him. Third, I’m glad you agreed to come with me, because you’re one of the only people that I can show my true self, all the emotions, both negative and positive, too. Most of the time I only show the positive emotions, and that can get exhausting.”
Kim took a bite of his hamburger, and Bailey did the same. The food was really good, and it made her miss the fish and chips from the local shop near her house.
As she ate and drew, Kim noticed her notebook. He leaned over, and commented on her work. Bailey smiled, and blushed. Kim was one of the only people who could get her to blush nowadays, even with the smallest comment.
“Sure” bailey said, handing him the notebook. “They’re of food, cake and pastry designs. It’s something I do to occupy myself.”

Conversation was alive around him, and while he recognized many of the people talking, he would not insert himself into their bickering. In his younger years, he felt a compulsion to mediate, but his time spent exhausted had worn his patience for squabbles thin. That, and the slow peeling away at the perfection he once found in his family, which had revealed the ugliness beneath the veneer of helpfulness. Now he stuck to what he valued-- genuine connection with people of superior interest to him, and not much else.

He would listen to the back-and-forth anyway, though the match itself would hold enough interest to keep his eyes. He would nod and smile to Miss Winnie's thanks, though he had not expected it to effect her so profoundly. Then again, he knew her to be dramatic ignore the hypocrisy. He could recall the screaming and throwing of objects involved in the tea time detention he had been a guest of. Even still, she didn't deserve to be taken advantage of by Pride. Flash didn't know the extent to which he may or may not have taken advantage of her, but he did know that before this loss of memory, she had loathed the boy. If she regained her memory and still loved him, so be it, her taste in men wasn't any of his business. Thomas seemed interested in their relationship though, for some reason. Curious.

When he responded about the bet, Flash would avert his gaze back to him from the match, surprised at the lack of snark. Certainly after leaving and returning so often, there would be inevitable changes in their relationship, and Flash was the type to study and analyze such things. Toothless indeed, since there was no offering of raised stakes, but rather an acquiesence. Feeling there was some pondering to be done, he wouldn't answer right away. "Hmm..."

The trial itself would be fast-paced, with Hogwarts having struggles, but looking like they would have no problem ending the match on top. After all, Howard was in the back and looking to be in no danger. Betting on Hogwarts at this point seemed compeltely pointless. In fact, the victor of most of the matches already looked apparant. "The whole thing, then."

Figuring he only had a portion of Thomas' attention, he wouldn't dally on a back-and-forth. He'd assert his own bet, and simply see whether it was agreed upon. He would grimace at Thomas' mention of scotch, something a bit too close to home for him. He had tried drinking while at his father's stable to force himself into unconsciousness as a way of alleviating the inability to sleep. However, it had only made him horribly ill. Given his unfortunate history with older boys offering him alcohol, he would realize that the Thomas and Howard had themselves been the two who encouraged his drinking.

"Instead of money, I would prefer to bet something more interesting." Flash would start, momentarily flinching when he saw Percival Gray taken out in the Hogwarts match. Leave it to the Snape dorm to be the weakest link. "A favor you can't refuse, perhaps. Would you bet that against Hogwarts winning the Hexwizard tournament?"

Once everyone had seated themselves again, AngelFyre made her way to where Simon was seated. The space between rows was verrrrrrrry tight, so she was having to smile apologetically, a lot, as her trajectory to get to him involved a seemingly never-ending litany of "Pardon me," and "Please excuse me," and "Please forgive the disturbance." When she got to him, she happily plopped down beside him and wrapped both her arms around his shoulders and gave him a decently long kiss on his cheek. "Hiya, you handsome Hufflepuff hunk ! How is Hogwarts doing?"

Apparently, AngelFyre was in an alliterative mood. She just smiled at him and turned her attention to the matches. Her smile grew even wider as it looked like Hogwarts was doing quite well against Koldovstoretz. A glance at the other two boards was illuminating. One board, off to the right, was simply covered in blood and only three white pieces remained on the board.

There is no way that is going to end well for them, she thought. Too bad. She knew absolutely no one from any of the foreign schools..... something she thought she should like to change this year..... but what she could tell already from her vantage point was that the black team, it appeared to be the Mahoutokoro team, was annoying as all get out. Sportsmanship in the world of magic seemed to be practically non-existent. It was one of the things she could truly say she felt the world of Muggles did better.

She scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces and waved at many of them. A huge smile broke out when she caught sight of Colin sitting with Clair. She leaned over to Simon and nodded in their direction. "I think it may not be long before we hear some kind of official announcement from them. How do you opine on the subject?" and then a wonderful thought crossed her mind. "And think about it - we will have another couple to go on double dates with! How fun would that be?"

And as she finished speaking, more moves were made on the Hogwarts board and she and Simon both leaped to their feet, cheering on their home team at the top of their lungs. One boy sitting near them seemed to be bothered by the volume of their cheering, in particular, and she looked over to him and mouthed,"I am sorry." She did not know him personally, but had seen him with Colin quite a bit and knew his name was Pi. At least that is what Colin called him. Then she leaned back around Simon and said to the boy, "I will try to control my volume, but this one here," and she pointed to Simon with a proud grin, "is all about cheering on Hogwarts and the Pride of Hufflepuff, so I can make no promises on his account." And she smiled at him.

"I am AngelFyre McCubbin by the way. And this one here, with his focus on the board, is Simon Kincaid. I think you are friends with my pal, Colin, if I am not mistaken. Pleasure to meet you."

Interacts: @Simon Kincaid @ Piérre Marchonné
Mentions: @Colin McCoire @Clair Fernandez

The game was secondary to the personal dramas afflicting many of the students chronicled here. The advent of the first team winning -- Durmstrang and their victory over Beauxbatons. The game would end with the fall of their champion Cassanora in the wake of an aggressive barrage of spells that that crippled their defenses and ultimately brought the girl to the ground.

There was something queer about the events that unfolded, the premature cheers that came from the Slavic contingent of the audience as Mikael was resurrected. Yet the adulation and excited frenzy of the audience would fall to a hush as the crowd would come to the horrified revelation that the teen was back but he came back 'wrong.' his carriage unnaturally twisted, not slouched but rather kyphotic. His flesh had this dire pallor -- sallow and like ash. Yet the most strike, nay most remarkable for the youth was the dark eyes, like a pair of unlit coals that blinkingly came back into the world. With a stagger and a wheeze he would return to 'life' if that was what one called it.

His first acts was the wild, reckless way he swung into Andre with vicious, precise brutality, bringing the boy to the ground. Murmured concerns were uttered, a hesitant applause from some. The game was still on, nothing had ceased, nothing had paused. If anything this was--

Nobody had time to rationalize anything as Amaury was brought back by Andre. The french girl was for all intents and purposes 'fine.' Whatever darkness clutc

Writing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Preobrazhensky

The game started out with much excitement, the raucous supporters in the stands making noise that surely had to be bothering some of the contestants. Would Slava be mindful of that and avoid contributing further to the impending headache many would have? Absolutely not! “GO DURMSTRANG!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, first in Russian, then in English, just to reach a wider audience. His hands were cupped around his mouth until he withdrew them, reaching into his pocket to fling a few handfuls of glitter up in the air. The colors? Red and black, to show his support for Durmstrang. Just in case anyone was unclear about who he supported.

When the vendors passed him, Slava would buy a noisemaker, whistle—well, not like he needed them in order to make noise, but why not?—a snack, and, of course, his very own Yefim-face t-shirt. Slava immediately pulled it over his shirt, the wrinkles from hastily pulling it on and not adjusting it contorting Yefim’s face and the “Durmstrang Pride” lettering on the back. The game was now in full swing and Slava would intermittently cheer and make use of his purchases at appropriate times, mouth sometimes too full with popcorn for the words to be made out, but he had the spirit and he was so focused on the match that he forgot to pay attention to his manners and clear his mouth first. During periods where there wasn’t the excitement of opponents falling, he would occupy himself by rattling on in English about how great the Durmstrang team was to anyone around him (faceless NPCs), regardless of whether they were listening or not. This was a thrilling thing to witness, after all. History was being made with the first Hexwizard tournament to ever exist, and Slava was certain his schoolmates were going to win.

The game got progressively more heated, and more and more people were falling. Eventually, one of those was the champion of Beauxbatons, meaning the victory went to Durmstrang! How could it not, really. It was guaranteed from the start. Slava filled his hands with glitter again, ready to throw it in celebration, beginning to join the cheers. But while Slava was far from the most observant of people, it would’ve been hard even for him to not notice that something was wrong. The crowd hushed, and so did he, the cheering dying on his lips and the glitter slipping through his fingers to fall back into the bags. «Что блять?!» “What the fuck?!” He would stare in shock at Mikael—someone from his school, someone in the year below him—who had clearly just had something terrible happen to him, even if it wasn’t yet understood. How… how was this allowed to happen? What had happened? Why was he so… wrong now?

Separated from the Durmstrang team by the distance to the stands, he would be unable to see the details of Mikael’s affliction, such as the unnaturally dark eyes and ashen skin tone. He would, however, be able to see the twisted posture and the viciousness with which the Durmstrang student attacked one of the Beauxbatons competitors, even after the game had been won. The whole ordeal would stun Slava into silence, something that was incredibly unusual for the loud, outgoing fifteen year old. He would just stare and stare, not knowing what to do or how to react, the last of his popcorn left neglected beside him, hands still hovering above the bags of glitter in his pockets. «Что блять…» he repeated softly, the energy gone, replaced with a shocked numbness.