Quidditch Hogwarts vs Durmstrang - Summer 2023

ROUND 3

A note to all players: The word count minimum is 50 words. The next deadline to post and submit strategy is 120 hours from the time this is posted. If you believe a mistake has been made in the calculations of this round, please reach out to a quidditch moderator (any of the team captains/cocaptains) ASAP so it can be addressed promptly.

Team Hogwarts Snitch Find/Catch DC: 19 / 27
Team Durmstrang Snitch Find/Catch DC: 19 / 27
Average Wisdom of Team Hogwarts (6.9) + 15: 22 (Cheating DC for Team Durmstrang)
Average Wisdom of Team Durmstrang (8.4) + 15: 23 (Cheating DC for Team Hogwarts)

Chasers:

Reducio

Durmstrang's chasers and keeper are all blatching. Annie is quaffle grabbing and scoring uncontested, so she scores 50 points for Hogwarts.

Uncontested, Annie would keep working on increasing Hufflepuff's score. Goal after goal, the points would keep going up, but it wouldn't take too long for that to change, as Durmstrang's chasers were eying up their next targets.

Beaters:

Reducio

Initiative: Johannes (92), Margarethe (71), Lysander (65), Madhup (47), Arjan (36), Alaric (17)

Johannes is blatching Daphne.
Daphne Alluring Redirect (10): [d10: 3]
CP for Johannes (10): [d10: 4]
Johannes acc: [d20: 13] + 18 = 31
Daphne eva: [d20: 7,1] + 4 = 5
Johannes blatches Daphne, Daphne is KOB!
Daphne is saved by Tesla.
Foulplay (4): [d4: 3]
Johannes gets a penalty lap!

Margarethe is blatching Annie.
CP for Margarethe (10): [d10: 9]
Margarethe acc: [d20: 20] + 23 = 43
Annie eva: [d20: 11] + 16 = 27
Margarethe blatches Annie, Annie is KOB! Due to the crit success, she will also take [4*75=300] damage.
Margarethe gets a penalty lap!

Lysander is blatching Daphne, now sharing a broom with Tesla.
Daphne Alluring Redirect (10): [d10: 1]
CP for Lysander (10): [d10: 7]
Lysander acc: [d20: 12] + 21 = 33
Daphne/Tesla eva: [d20: 19] + 5 = 24
Both Daphne and Tesla are KOB!
Lysander gets a penalty lap!

Madhup, Arjan and Alaric all had actions targeting opponents that have already been KOB.

They'd (almost) all settle for Daphne. Johannes would go first, easily knocking her from the broom as she reached for the snitch. However, Tesla would be quick to catch her, together continuing to try and catch the snitch. Margarethe, unlike the rest of her team, would blatch Annie after her scoring success, colliding with such force that she'd be sent tumbling from her broom even more violently than a standard blatch. Lysander would finish and send Tesla and Daphne together falling from their broom, leaving no Hufflepuffs left on the pitch.

"Johannes. Margarethe. Lysander. Penalty laps. Again"

Seekers:

Reducio

Catch DC is 15 + 12 = 27 for both teams.

Daphne is spiral-diving to catch the snitch.
Daphne/Tesla acc: [2d20: 5,4] + 10 = 15
Daphne does not catch the snitch!

As she was falling, Daphne would make one final, desperate grab for the snitch. However, she'd just find herself out of reach, letting it slip away as she lost consciousness.

Outcome

Annie scores 50 points for Hogwarts.
Daphne was KOB from a blatch.
Daphne was caught by Tesla.
Annie was KOB from a blatch and took 300 damage.
Tesla and Daphne both were KOB from a blatch.

Current Score
150 vs 0

Submitted Plays

Health and Post Tracker

Final Score:
Team Hogwarts: 150 pts, Team Durmstrang: 100 pts

To be eligible for rewards, you must have posted in every round you can and be on the winning team. Please link to this post in the trunk updates if you are eligible for rewards and wish to claim your +1 stat point from this game. House points will be rewarded to those eligible on the winning team when both quidditch games for this season have ended.

Eligible for Rewards:
List and tag the team members of the winning team here who are eligible for rewards eg

• @Atlas Reid
• @Annie Morgan
• @Howard White
• @Clark Baird
• @Alma Stoll
• @Roxette Hartmore
• @Quinn Healy
• @Avery McCall
• @Tesla Stone
• @Ethen Emrys
• @Daphne Sapphirus
• @Astrea Soleil Neptune as Johannes Cyprian Ambroży
• @Ruby Cazares as Vyacheslav Aleksandrovich Preobrazhensky
• @Phaedra Stavrou as Lysander-Blaine Stavrou
• @Pericles Dralt as Madhup Hexum
• @Evelynn Decipio as Margarethe Fransson
• @Alan Vanes as Nichlas Forsberg
• @Lucian Mornstern as Alaric Havertz
• @Piérre Marchonné as Romeo Marchonné
• @Serena Towers as Arjan Oberoi
• @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood as Valentin "Niffler" Schnell
• @Anastasia Varney as Astrid Théa Olsen

Ineligible for Rewards:
List the team members of the winning team here who are ineligible for rewards eg

• N/A

Valentin could only shake his head. Surely everyone knew that quidditch only ended when the snitch was caught or if both captains agreed to end a match. It had been this way for centuries, and this was why a viable strategy had always been to eliminate both the enemy seeker and the home seeker when a team was ahead in quaffle points. The Frost Captain knew very well that the referee’s decision to overturn the traditional rules of quidditch now would create a great upheaval, and he knew from history that sports matches could easily turn into violent riots. While the injustice of the decision burned in his veins, Valentin knew he owed it to Durmstrang and the rest of the global quidditch community to do something powerful before matters got out of hand. As fans began screaming and tensions skyrocketed, Valentin had to drop all interactions he would have normally had congratulating his team on their well-deserved victory. Instead, the captain shot towards the stands at top speed on his Silver Arrow until arriving at the seat of a Hufflepuff boy with golden hair and infinite green eyes: one Alexander Harland. Climbing off the broom as mayhem began to erupt all around, Valentin came to stand by the Hufflepuff’s side and reached out to take the boy’s hand to impress upon him the importance of the moment.

“Please,” began Valya, amethyst eyes gazing deep into Alexander’s. “I need you to help me prevent a war. This could not only turn into a riot, here and now, but the ramifications could detonate for years to come if we don’t do something. Both of our schools and quidditch itself needs us right now. History needs us. Please, ride with me.” Setting the Silver Arrow levitating steadily before them, Valentin’s hand waved towards the front of the broom. “I need you to fly with me, and I need us to grab the snitch together at the exact same time. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never done this before. I can get us within range, and I can control my own speed to harmonize with yours. I need you to sit in front of me because my arms are longer, and then when we find the snitch, I need you to tell me that you’re ready. Then, we’ll reach out and claim the snitch together, you for Hufflepuff, and me for Durmstrang, and united we will make this a genuine, just outcome for the world instead of a painful divide between our people.”

Godmod of Alexander Harland approved OOC in advance

Valentin’s outstretched hand offered support as Alex took position on the seeker’s lightning-scarred Silver Arrow, after which the captain sat behind him and kicked off. They could not afford a moment to spare, as the eyes of the world were upon them, and so Valentin took the lead on directing the Arrow at maximum speed up into the heavens. With Val holding the Hufflepuff boy firmly in his arms as he shifted to control the direction of the broom, Alexander would be at no risk of falling despite the steep G-forces they began pulling. Keen amaranthine eyes scanned the skies, and although the match had already been called and no change to the referee’s decision would be made, the pair was here to secure the validity of the match call for Durmstrang and Hufflepuff to tie.

Whispering into Alex’s ear beyond the reach of the media’s ability to detect, Valentin smiled, took Alexander’s hand, and traced the sky with it. Moments later, the hufflepuff boy’s fingers, under the cloak of a lithe silver-scarred hand, pointed directly towards a golden glint darting beneath a low misty nimbus. Putting their hands down and leaning forward to redistribute their weight and accelerate, Valentin sped the pair into a zig-zagging, duck-diving pursuit of the snitch that had suddenly come to mean far more than a simple quidditch victory.

With a few more words entering Alexander’s ears but lost to the rest of the world in their high velocity slipstream, Valentin's locked-on eyes never lost sight of the snitch just below them. When the Hufflepuff indicated he was ready, Valentin then pulled the other boy tighter as they stooped into a spiral dive. Val’s hand curled around the side of Alexander’s to flank it with their palms open and fingers spread, and through a rush of gravity and adrenaline, their arms extended towards the golden snitch. Closer, closer, closer they dove, and then the well-trained wizard cameras of the world would record the captain’s clearly-mouthed “NOW!”

Matching speed with the glittering gilded orb, Alexander’s and Valentin’s hands closed in synchrony around the snitch as each grasped a wing at the same time. Pulling out of the dive and into a slow and stationary rotation, Valentin held the pose with Alexander for the world to see, however breathless they might seem. Then, when sure that all who were watching had gotten a satisfying view of the scene, Valentin pulled Alexander’s arm back in close and pressed the snitch into the boy’s palm. The seeker whispered something again before wrapping his arms back around the boy and starting their descent to the bottom of the pitch. At no point would Alexander be able to fall off, but once they began touring the perimeter of the stadium, Valentin began giving out high fives to his team mates. Congratulations for the Hufflepuff team would have to wait for a later hospital visit.

Cycling through his entire team, Valentin went up to Johannes, Greta, Lysander, Madhup, Arjan, and Alaric to commend them for their valiant plays as well as introducing Alexander the Hufflepuff to them. Descending back towards the stands, Valentin then greeted the critically-wounded Amina in the audience section, saying the victory was partly in her honour as well as for dual-team unity. Then, hitting the benches, the captain went on to thank Slava, Niche, and Anastasia for waiting on stand-by. As Romeo was hospitalized at the time, his commendations would have to wait momentarily, especially until Valentin could clean up the shards of #4’s maple bat and request the return of pieces claimed by spectators below its fallout.

Valentin then went on to fly Alexander around the rim of the stands, slowing in particular when passing Hufflepuff cheering sections so that they could interact however they chose. At last, Valentin pulled away from Alexander's ear to raise his fist in the air and roar the word “DURMSTRANG!” for all to hear. Only slowly came the flight back to the isolated corner where Val had scooped Alexander up, as if Valentin didn't want the moment to end, but they ultimately arrived where Val could ease Alex into stepping off safely. Valentin also dismounted, and after some final interactions, he offered to escort the boy wherever he wanted to go. The captain wouldn’t let the boy out of sight until he knew for certain he would be safe, confirming arrangements to meet again shortly. In the last moments that people would see them, Valentin gave Alexander a long-lasting embrace, visibly mouthed thanks, and planted a kiss on the Hufflepuff boy’s forehead before rejoining the rest of Team Sárkány.

Base Stats: STA 8 - EVA 20 - STR 3 - WIS 15 [17] - ARC 1 - ACC 15
Total Stats: STA 11 - EVA 23 - STR 6 - WIS 20 - ARC 4 - ACC 18
Abilities:
Keen Eye / Charmer / Evasive Maneuvers / Fearless / Comprehend Languages: Parseltongue
Broom: Silver Arrow (+3 to each stat)
Ency/Trunk: viewtopic.php?f=314&t=17006#p269554
Action: Doing as history only deserves.

The game was finished. The whole Hufflepuff team was kicked of their brooms. In Astrid's mind, this meant that Durmstrang had won. It made sense. But then the announcement. No one won. Hearing this, the girl just laughs. Obviously Hogwarts wasn't gonna let Durmstrang win against them. Again. Of course they had to find a way to make it a tie. But in her mind, Durmstrang was and always would be the real winning team. They were the only players in the sky at the moment. And no one grabbed the snitch.
— This is bullshit! The fucking referee is from Hogwarts, of course they're gonna advantage them. I wanna see some written rules, saying that this is an existant ending.
Astrid was clearly pissed off, walking back to Durmstrang's locker room, her broom in hand. Before pushing the door, she turned her head back to the sky, only to see Val and a Hufflepuff student grab the snitch. It was a weird thing to see. But knowing Val for a few years now permitted her to have an idea of what he was doing with this move. And obviously she cheered when the captain screamed "DURMSTRANG". There she was, standing against the locker's door, seeming very unpleased with that game ending.
— At least we didn't loose i guess.

Stats: sta ● 8 (11)| eva ● 8 (11)| str ● 5 (8)| wis ● 10 (13)| arc ● 7 (10)| acc ● 8 (11)
Abilities: Fearless - Obnoxiously Strong - Keen Eye
Broom: Silver Arrow (+3 to every stat)
Action: As strategized

Hex: #465c67 | English | Russian | Swedish

Keeping the dangerous smile steady, Nichlas gave a slow shake of his head as the smaller and slightly younger Durmstrang student appeared far from pleased over their interaction. It had something downright amusing to it really, to make a sunshine look at you with murderous intent. Then again he found himself thinking that approaching this particular sunshine bore the risk of getting burned. He was speaking to someone he had no qualms labeling as brutish and still he played with fire to test its strength, boundaries and most importantly his reactions. That was what he was here for after all, to solve the enigma that had presented itself to him. On most days incredibly nice and rumored to be sunshine incarnate, but from the very first moment he had laid eyes on Nichlas he had been but a cat who's fur had been ruffled the wrong way. It was a delicate process of not pushing too many buttons at once or else he would find himself clawed. "That sounds like your interpretation of what I was saying," he corrected calmly as if he were a teacher lecturing a student about something trivial.

"It would have been one way to be known, excelling in classes would have put you closer to my domain and possibly meant we would have met sooner and on the contrary my life is quite exciting," he replied smoothly, seemingly unbothered by the jab and what could be more frustrating than that? Nichlas almost seemed to expect the reactions he would receive to his words before he had even spoken them. As if conversation and debate was but a game to be played by one participant. And for Nichlas casual conversation was more often than not just that. A game of cat and mouse and a way to gain a better understanding on his counterpart in conversation. He enjoyed causing reactions and deciphering a person and Slava seemed to be quite the riddle to solve. Nichlas understood people being on edge around him and often enough it was fun that all he needed to do was glare and people would run for the hills. But someone like Slava wasn't supposed to be this sensitive. It were the nice people that always tried to be nice despite any weirdness they sensed from Nichlas. It was unusual to cause such an opposite reaction from someone considered nice, that is unless that was not the opposite reaction. Nichlas himself thought he could never be that cheerful supportive fool who always looked out for everyone, it would be exhausting and quite the boring life to lead. He would never understand what one would gain from acting a certain way and that is what seemed the most odd about Slava. Clearly he couldn't be all that nice if all it took for him was to see Nichlas to start showing his true colors.

"Kindly," he heard the scoff and his face immediately turned smug as he regarded the messy haired boy with a smile. "Of course. Are you saying I am not?" he laid out the trap almost innocently. Either response was a win to Nichlas. If Slava were to confirm his supposed dislike against Nichlas, it was unlikely he was truly a sunshine. There was a difference between jabs and actively calling someone out, the latter required much more conviction. Of course Nichlas doubted that Slava would deny his unkindness either because that would destroy his entire point. Nichlas expected deflection, ignorance or some sort of distraction and he was curious to see it happen. But he also eased up a bit and gave a glance to the sky at the other players still in the air. Arjan was up there now and the Durmstrang team seemed to still be in the lead of things happening. The two Beaters in the sky seemed to feel especially merciless, Johannes and Lysander too quick to let things get out of hand, causing the last two students of the other school to fall off as well. This was, despite all their sorry attempts to get the game back under their control. All seemed like victory was served to them on a silver platter and they would have all the time to take this opportunity.

He glanced over to Slava once more, regarding the other student. He gave a sharp smile, showing teeth when it was confirmed to him that Slava couldn’t be further away from him, if it was allowed to him. Point was he couldn’t and distance only helped that much with general discomfort. Soon enough they would have to meet again, after all he had allowed Valentin recruit him. Their little conversation went on as his focus easily shifted between the game, almost analyzing everyone’s movements as well as Slava, who he had sufficiently messed with for the time being. It had been a good game, both in the air and on the benches and he felt rewarded by the misery in Slava as he begrudgingly accepted the offer of friendship. If this was supposed to be reality from now on, the simple admission of friendship would open him many doors of future messing around and button pushing. “Why, how glad I count myself to be your friend now, I’m sure us getting along quite so nicely will be such a relief for Valentin. The lad seems like he strives for harmony among the team, it would be quite the shame if someone were to disrupt that,” his voice was dripping insincerity like venom of a vipers fangs and this statement alone offered freedom to many interpretations and while many interpretations could be ambiguous, it for sure seemed to be a warning and a promise of sorts for what was to be left undetermined.

“Oh Slava… you’re reading too much into my words again. I’m sure you have many uses to Valentin and I am sure he had his reasons to recruit you. After all you seemed quite capable in handling the little one on the team. What’s gotten him an invite into this anyway? I am sure you won’t mind talking about Alaric, I don’t think the two of you are friends anyway,” another of his smiles as he watched for the reaction upon uttering the younger Beater’s name. “He did replace your spot on the team in a way after all, being a Beater in your stead?” it was almost as if Nichlas was trying to force a reaction and in return learn more about both the team and Slava himself. What made him tick, if it wasn’t the desire to be nice to everyone.

Nichlas however did go quiet when Slava went on a rant, defending himself and his decisions in previous games. He had been there and Nichlas therefore allowed the corrections to his own retelling. His aim, after all, was not to make accusations based on rumors or debate with flawed arguments. He valued his wits far more than to simply allow himself to double down on wrong statements. The thought that ran through his mind at the reaction he had caused was simple, ‘how peculiar’. There wasn’t much to it and Nichlas didn’t cared less about proving the other wrong and more about his boredom of being cast aside to the benches when he was quite sure his talents might outmatch those of the others in the game. “Well I guess I should be glad that your mother had you removed from the roster and that the position of Beater had been filled. Otherwise you would be missing out on all this conversation, as you would be too busy replacing Romeo in the match,” he argued, presenting the argument almost like a peace offering… like bait. "Everyone has things they hide, those that claim otherwise are idiots or liars," Nichlas decided to add in a casual afterthought, curious which one Slava would identify as. One had to wear their heart on their sleeve in order to have no secrets and to do so meant to be vulnerable, which was quite idiotic to do. But this wasn't Slava's first lie and thus Nichlas was almost confident that despite Slava would be claiming, he was a liar to some extent. Nichlas was almost never wrong in his judgement of others and he was quite sure that Slava's dual personalities were quite the oddity in itself. It made him curious enough to keep his attention on the second string keeper and wannabe beater.

Apparently Nichlas had pushed one button too many and Slava pushed off his arm angrily and Nichlas gave a sharp bark of laughter at the situation. But it felt far from honest joy and would rather serve to make someones hairs stand on end, if they were easily frightened. But perhaps there was a bit surprise in it too, who was Slava to know of Nichlas' feelings or intentions? "You seem so on guard, Slava. What has got you so worried, hm?" he asked almost teasingly, daringly as he gave him a sharp smile. It was a smile he had grown so used to now, so far away from the smile that was reserved for only his sister in this point of time.

It was then that Slava decided to take his words out of context and for a moment Nichlas froze half in motion, perplexed beofre he moved on as if nothing happened and threw Slava a gaze. "What is that supposed to mean?" he pretended to not have taken the bait, but he was quite sure it was too late for that and narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, displeased. "Did the word rainbow hit too close to home?" he would make a valid attempt to turn the focus around, twisting the investigations focus on Slava again. He hadn't expected that the other could make him be caught off guard. It wasn't even so much the question itself and more the overall situation that had made him stumble. The question he wouldn't allow himself to have any conerns over. He had long made clear that he couldn't allow any distractions on his path, least of all romantic feelings of any kind, towards anyone. Especially not if one tried to weaponize such possibilities against him, which apparently Slava had just done and that put him on somewhat thin ice. It seemed the other kid had found the courage to push one of Nichlas' buttons and it made him bristle as he regarded the other coldly.

As there was no further commentary from the other bench warmer, Nichlas turned his attention to the bickering headmasters and hummed. "I wonder what is left to discuss, we clearly won," he narrowed his eyes in thought as if that would someone make him more perceptive of what was going on. His gaze drifted to the players in the air, their first string minus Romeo still fully intact whereas the other school had nothing left ot offer and was fully out. When the announcement of the winner was made, Nichlas' eyes narrowed even further. "What? Preposterous," his Swedish came true as he followed Valentin with his gaze as the latter dove after the golden snitch, that Nichlas too was following with his gaze. He gave a shake of his head, before facing the imp to his side. "This cannot be proper, right?" Nichlas was not one to simply accept a loss like that, especially if it was based on such a ridiculous notion. They had clearly been dominating the game! Nichlas however was still rusty on proper game procedure as this was the first game he actually had to care about the rules as they affected him. But everything within him bristled at the thought of accepting this as anything but a victory for Durmstrang, no matter what was claimed by the headmasters and referees.

OOC Information
Position | Broom
Benched - Silver Arrow

Stats
Sta 8 | Eva 10 | Str 2 | Wis 16 | Arc 12 | Acc 25

Abilities
Evasive Maneuvers | Perfectionist II | Spell Spread | Terrible Presence | Fearless | Wandmaker

==

Writing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Aleksandrovich Preobrazhensky All speech is assumed to be in Russian unless otherwise stated

Slava didn’t like the way that Nichlas was looking at him. Evidently, the other found this conversation to be amusing. Maybe it was the element of control that he had over the situation that caused him to look so smug. Slava, on the other hand, was not enjoying this. "That sounds like your interpretation of what I was saying." Sure, but wasn’t the point of language to communicate and be understood? If Nichlas was communicating what he was saying so vaguely that Slava could misinterpret it so easily, wasn’t that an issue with Nichlas’s language? Slava could hardly be blamed for judging the statement based on its typical connotations. He shrugged. “Maybe so.”

"It would have been one way to be known, excelling in classes would have put you closer to my domain and possibly meant we would have met sooner and on the contrary my life is quite exciting." “I don’t concern myself with trying to be well-known.” Not to mention that he was glad to have not met Nichlas sooner. His life was perfectly good and happy without this unsettling boy in it. “Exciting how? You spend all your time studying, training your magic? How fascinating.” Perhaps it was rude to assume that that was all Nichlas did, but the Swede wasn’t being particularly nice either, and his general lack of reaction sparked something in Slava that insisted that he push slightly harder.

When Slava repeated “kindly”, Nichlas smiled again. "Of course. Are you saying I am not?" Slava made direct eye contact with him. “What do you think?” he asked dryly, rhetorically. There wasn’t any malice to it, but he certainly didn’t believe that kind was the right word to use for Nichlas and his behavior and Slava couldn’t see how there could be a universe where this was ever perceived as “kind”. Again, though, in the seconds of silence, Slava was suddenly all too aware of just how differently he was behaving to normal. While his words weren’t malicious, his tone was awfully flat and there was no sign of the bubbly, joking nature that typically characterized him, and that just made him feel all the more uneasy.

Slava had quietly admitted that he did want to be further from Nichlas, and in response, the Swede just smiled another one of those unnaturally frightening smiles, forcing Slava to look anywhere but at the other boy. Why did Nichlas seem to enjoy that so much? What was wrong with him? And more to the point, what was Slava getting himself into when he said that one word that allowed Nichlas to claim friendship? He immediately wanted to take it back after Nichlas commented, "Why, how glad I count myself to be your friend now." There was something about his tone that felt so wrong. It felt dangerous. Was everything Nichlas said like that? "The lad seems like he strives for harmony among the team, it would be quite the shame if someone were to disrupt that." “I’m sure he would manage just fine,” Slava responded, but his mouth felt dry from the slight threat he thought he could detect in Nichlas’s words. His fingers subtly drummed on the bench beside him, trying to work out the nerves.

"Oh Slava… you’re reading too much into my words again." The way Nichlas seemed to be talking down to him like a teacher chiding a schoolchild was frustrating and uncomfortable, and yet Slava couldn’t focus on that feeling, instead doubting himself again. Was he truly misinterpreting everything so badly? Was there really no deeper meaning to Nichlas’s words, no hidden desire to use this knowledge for some harmful purpose? It felt like everything Nichlas said was a thinly disguised jab at Slava, and yet there was a good chance that the Russian was indeed misinterpreting that. Feeling uncomfortable once again, Slava was almost grateful for the distraction that Nichlas’s next words brought, even if Alaric was far from what he wanted to think about.

"After all you seemed quite capable in handling the little one on the team. What’s gotten him an invite into this anyway?" “Я не знаю. I don’t know. Your guess is as good as mine. He’s too new for me to know much about him.” "He did replace your spot on the team in a way after all, being a Beater in your stead?" Yeah, not something he needed to be reminded of. Slava didn’t respond at first, a prickly sort of silence hanging in the air between them, his gaze focusing back on the game. His hand on the side farther away from Nichlas curled into a fist almost without realizing, his fingers pressing into his palm in an attempt to release some of the tension he was feeling and refocus himself. “I suppose he did,” he said neutrally. “But I was also already Keeper. You can’t have two positions.”

A moment later, Nichlas was saying he should be glad for that, given that this allowed them to talk, a statement that made Slava glance over to see the other’s expression. He wasn’t sure why he bothered. It didn’t offer him any context. The Swede’s words were hard enough to comprehend on their own, seemingly having layers of meanings although Nichlas denied it, but the fact that his behavior and the things he was saying muddled any true sentiment left Slava confused and having to just guess at everything. He was far from being able to understand why Nichlas did what he did and said things the way he said them, and so all Slava could do was approach cautiously and stick to neutrality where possible. “That is true.”

"Everyone has things they hide, those that claim otherwise are idiots or liars." Slava shook his head. “Or maybe there are those who aren’t as distrustful as you. Maybe they have no reason to hide.” He paused. “There might be some small things that everyone hides, sure, but maybe there just haven’t been chances for that to come to light. And as I said, I have nothing worth hiding.” He shrugged. Perhaps it would be wiser to hide what he could from Nichlas, but he had the feeling that that would only encourage the Swede to dig deeper. Besides, hiding just wasn’t in Slava’s nature. He believed the words he was speaking—he saw no value in being closed off to the world. He valued openness and connection, especially with friends, and deliberately hiding major things accomplished the opposite of that.

Yet Slava was quickly shown why some people preferred to hide aspects of themselves. They offered a bit of secrecy for a bit of perceived safety, wearing masks as shields… and Slava could really use any type of shield right now. The brief, ingenuine laughter Nichlas emitted sent a chill down Slava’s spine, his shoulders creeping slightly higher, feeling the tension in every part of his body. "You seem so on guard, Slava. What has got you so worried, hm?" His heart was beating fast—too fast—and he wasn’t sure he could speak even if he tried, even if he had something worth saying. There was something in Nichlas’s voice, something about his smile… Slava felt slightly dizzy, unable to focus on the game, unable to focus on anything besides the intense, terrifying presence of the boy next to him and the need to escape. As subtly as he could, he shuffled a little farther away, as if that would help. As if anything could help.

«Оставь меня в покое?» “Leave me alone?” he tried. It came out more like a question and barely more than a whisper, a fact that made him mentally kick himself. What was wrong with him? Normally, he was brave, he was confident, and yet here he was now, practically cowering. How embarrassing. But as he was mentally running through his options for what he could do, Nichlas unwittingly granted him a reprieve. "What is that supposed to mean? Did the word rainbow hit too close to home?"

It was an opportunity so inviting that Slava couldn’t possibly ignore it, even despite his fear. In fact, perhaps it was because of his fear that he clung onto it, looking for anything that could potentially lead to a weakness of Nichlas’s and provide Slava with a bit of safety. The Russian needed to get a grip. And what better way to do that than by throwing Nichlas off? Nichlas had frozen and then later shot a displeased look at Slava, indicating that this was a topic that bothered him to some extent, and so Slava took that information and ran with it. He grinned. “I don’t know. Did it?” It was clear that he wasn’t talking about himself anymore. “You didn’t answer the question,” he pointed out, laughing briefly. It was a taunt. It was unwise. But it was a way to distract from his uneasiness, and that was all he cared about.

The game would provide another, greater distraction once again—no, wait, the game couldn’t be a distraction, that was the whole reason they were here—as the last Hogwarts student fell. Prepared to cheer in celebration, the announcement of the win Slava was waiting for never came. Instead, his gaze drifted to the arguing headmasters, Nichlas echoing Slava’s thoughts as he said, "I wonder what is left to discuss, we clearly won." The conclusion of a draw was made and confusion washed over Slava’s expression. “What the hell? We won!” he yelled in English, an insignificant protest.

His eyes followed Valentin as he flew to the stands and… picked up a spectator who Slava didn’t recognize. A moment later, the two of them caught the snitch… together. He wondered if the unfamiliar boy was from Hogwarts, then. A smile crept across his face, his outrage over the situation being pushed to the background. Of course Valentin would do this—a grand, symbolic display to better keep the peace, even though the result of the game had already been called. "This cannot be proper, right?" Nichlas questioned. “Of course it isn’t.” Slava shook his head, but the smile remained, especially as Valentin cheered for Durmstrang. Regardless of what the “official” result was marked as, it was clear that their team had won in their own way, and Valentin only furthered that with his demonstration of good intent. Thank you, Valya.

Hex: #465c67 | English | Russian | Swedish

Nichlas leaned back, feeling perhaps a little too smug over such a little victory. But Slava had caved in to Nichlas' claim that this was simply a interpretation based on Slava's views on him. However he had not expected the Russian to give in so easily to his portrayal of truth, when previously he had fought tooth and nail to make anything Nichlas said or did seem like a hidden attack or threat. Not that Nichlas minded people expecting such things of him, he often relished in the fact that people took a step back due to both his reputation and personal presence. The little girl he had met that day had learned this the hard way and Nichlas felt no remorse for having taught her a lesson.

“I don’t concern myself with trying to be well-known.” Did he? Well he didn't try to be unknown or invisible. Nichlas was quite sure that either of them were personalities that lived their lives as they pleasend and simply didn't concern themselves with the impacts their presences had. Contrary to expectation of the small-minded Nichlas didn't need to be well known, he simply was due to causing impact wherever he went. He felt a similar notion could be applied to Slava, who was decently well known simply by having a big personality that was known across the school. Being part of a school's sport team wouldn't help staying unknown, as the students were quick to jump to the opportunity to celebrate those that helped along their school's reputation. “Exciting how? You spend all your time studying, training your magic? How fascinating.” Nichlas glanced over the other boy with a raised eyebrow. Interestingly enough the other was not shying away from making bold claims over things he had little knowledge about. "Who would have thought, the sunshine of our school is secretly judgemental?" he turned the question around, shining light on Slava's ridiculous claim. Nichlas after all did not owe the other one a response to the unasked question. Simply because he was quite aware that the other likely did not care how the Swede spent his free time and only wanted to find a new button to push. And Nichlas wouldn't be stupid enough to present those on a silver platter. If Slava wanted to affect him, he would have to work for it.

“What do you think?” Nichlas' eyes shone with glee at the sass as Slava despite trying to seem unaffected, clearly kept going back to simply reacting. It was fascinating to take in the reactions of this boy, it certainly had made the time pass more quickly as the game went on and slightly made up for the dreadful encounter in the morning. Not that it really mattered on a grander scale of things as this was a one time encounter that wouldn't really affect him much going forward. "Well I think I'm a great guy, actually... correction. I know that I am a great guy." Nichlas answered the question honestly, with a slight flair of smugness. His confidence was, as per usual, unwavering.

Nichlas gave Slava an eerie smile before drawing his attention once more toward the ending game as he listened to Slava during their little conversation about his current position as a second string Keeper. His gaze however had been on Alaric, wondering if the boy had sufficently learned his lesson yet. He did however seem to be quite casual and hadn't let any recent events impact his performance during the game. Not that he was on par with the other students, he simply was too young. However Nichlas also questioned Slava's opinion on matters such as secrecy and trustworthiness. "I doubt you are as transparent as you let on, but that is your claim to make and mine to doubt," he responded in a out of place casualness. He did not really care about images other people wished to portray, as long as he could demolish these perceptions brick by brick and view what was at their core. He doubted that Slava behaved as he did around Nichlas normally, even to people of similar character and sensing the fear and worry, Nichlas couldn't help but be curious as the reasons behind it. And of course the image of a good guy Slava desperately portrayed at any moment, even keeping up a conversation he simply wanted to escape from.

However as the game cut to a close Nichlas still managed to be annoyed at the referees for their ruling of the game, that simply speaking reeked of favoritism. But how could he truly be surprised after having learned of the corruption of this school's staff. It reminded him of the ill-suited Hogwarts staff he had met in the past and he could not say that he was surprised at the current display of things.

«Оставь меня в покое?» Leave me alone? "Is that a question or a demand?" the Swde asked with a tilt of his head and a slightly less sharky smile, actual amusement tinting his voice at the half demand. He hadn't expected the other boy to sound so meek. “You didn’t answer the question,” the other said to which Nichlas pointed out the very same. "Neither did you, is there a reason you are avoiding the question?" The Swede while still being obviously smug and far from kind in his persue, seemed to actually enjoy the conversation. He seemed to have found a topic that the other did not want speaking about. "So I guess you have your secretes after all," he hinted at their previous topic, now with the sharkish features back on his face. Slava simply made the button pressing too easy for him.

The only thing currently distracting him from fully leaning into the topic and digging up this secret of him, was the uncalled for end of the Quidditch game and the slowly building irritation. "This would perhaps not have happened if Valentin had kept his focus on the objective, if he had the snitch they couldn't have hidden behind some unfair ruling," he stated, somewhat bitter. Though he would not put it past these referees to still make a case for their own school because Merlin knows they needed all the media attention and couldn't bear the shame of losing to a foreign school. "This school has some nerves, first their staff targets me and now this," he tsked as he raised from the benches and smoothed out his clothes by brushing over them.

"Anyway," he gave Slava a half hearted glance as he picked up his silver arrow from leaning against the bench, "Don't be a stranger, Sunshine!" And with this false chipper and obvious annoyance at the ruling of the referee, Nichlas made his way away from the pitch. He has had his fun and it was not like he was too involved with the game for the result to truly matter or hit home. Had he been in the actual game this would have looked different. But this was Valentin's mess to worry about and sort out. Meeting Slava and having the fun of pushing his button, however, had made enduring the spectation of the sport worth it. And it was not like had to accept the ruling of referee that was clearly biased. In his mind this was a win and who's opinion mattered more than his own?

OOC Information
Position | Broom
Benched - Silver Arrow

Stats
Sta 8 | Eva 10 | Str 2 | Wis 16 | Arc 12 | Acc 25

Abilities
Evasive Maneuvers | Perfectionist II | Spell Spread | Terrible Presence | Fearless | Wandmaker

leaving unless stopped

==

Writing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Aleksandrovich Preobrazhensky All speech is assumed to be in Russian unless otherwise stated

Slava would receive a raised eyebrow in response to his questioning of Nichlas’s claim that his life was exciting. "Who would have thought, the sunshine of our school is secretly judgemental?" The Russian’s lips pressed together in a thinner line, eyes directed firmly up at the game in the skies. Maybe Nichlas was right—Slava had been unnecessarily rude, even though the Swede hadn’t really done anything to deserve it. How abnormally he was acting did continue to bother him, too. He wasn’t a judgemental person at all, really—tolerance and near-unconditional acceptance of others were highly important values to him. So why was he behaving like this? He wanted to stop, and yet he was having trouble doing so.

"Well I think I'm a great guy, actually... correction. I know that I am a great guy," Nichlas insisted. Slava rolled his eyes. “Oh, are you?” He could have tried harder to fight the statement more substantially, but it wasn’t worth it, especially given Nichlas’s arrogant smugness. Still, if the Swede was truly a “great guy” like he claimed, he wouldn’t behave the way he did or poke at Slava so intently. Even this comment was probably intended in part to bother Slava, considering the way it had been said, and so the Russian should mindfully try to just let it slide.

It seemed Nichlas refused to believe the notion that someone could truly be so open and hide almost nothing, even despite Slava agreeing that there could be some things that everyone hid—although the Russian believed that that was often unintentional and that, for some people, such a thing only ever occurred when the information in question hadn’t yet been relevant. "I doubt you are as transparent as you let on, but that is your claim to make and mine to doubt." “Whatever.” Again, it wasn’t worth it to argue further. He had nothing to prove to Nichlas, nor did he need validation. Others could think what they wanted about him or his beliefs—he knew what his truth was, and that was all that mattered.

Still, while Slava was self-confident and secure in that regard, that didn’t protect him from being hugely unsettled by Nichlas’s presence and actions. He hated the way his voice had sounded when he had spoken to try to insist that he be left alone, suddenly wishing instead that he hadn’t said anything at all. "Is that a question or a demand?" Slava ignored the question, trying to find anything else to focus on, pretending like Nichlas hadn’t even acknowledged what he had said. Maybe they could just forget any of this had happened.

Nichlas tried to turn the rainbow-related comments around to focus on Slava again, but the Russian wouldn’t have it, giving a straight answer this time. “No, the only thing that’s rainbow about me is my glitter. I’m just curious why you’re so intent on avoiding it.” Nevertheless, if he couldn’t get any more reactions from Nichlas that were more like how he had initially frozen, it wasn’t going to be very fun to continue going around in circles with this teasing. Regardless, the topic would naturally come to an end when their focus shifted to the more pressing, important matter of the disagreeable result of the Quidditch game.

As frustrated as Slava was about it at first, he wasn’t particularly one to speculate over the motives behind the decision or what else could have lead to it. The only relevant part of it in his mind was that it had happened, and they couldn’t change that. Meanwhile, it seemed Nichlas had chosen to blame Valentin, prompting Slava to shake his head vigorously. “It’s not Valya’s fault—the blame lies with the people who decided this. He’s the captain and a talented Quidditch player, if he decided blatching someone was the best move then I’m sure he had his reasons and believed it was worth the risk. That’s his choice to make, not yours from the bench after you’ve been on the team for a day,” he scolded. He wouldn’t tolerate this badmouthing of his friend when it was obvious that the responsibility should be placed on the staff who had chosen the final outcome, instead. Not that it earned him much of a response—Nichlas just gave him a look and, after a pause, said unbearably dryly, "Agree to disagree."¹ Slava shook his head again in protest but reluctantly decided to let it rest. For now.

Nichlas’s next comment, while said awfully casually, did not pass unnoticed. “Their staff… what…?” Alarm crept into his expression. Was Nichlas just exaggerating? Was it something minor like singling him out or a snide comment, or did “target” mean something deeper? The lack of clarity only added to how disturbing such an idea was, eliciting a frown. “What are you talking about?” His question would go unanswered, though, because the Swede was already in motion and didn’t seem to have any intention to linger. "Don’t be a stranger, Sunshine!" As Nichlas walked away, Slava turned to stare at him, baffled, prickling slightly at the nickname and false positivity that seemed far too out of place. Rolling his eyes, the Russian picked up his own broom and stood up. This hadn’t been an ideal way to spend the match, but he supposed it had been… interesting? It had most certainly been different to what he was used to. Shaking his head and sighing softly, Slava glanced around the pitch for a final time before he, too, left.