Detours PV Piérre Marchonné Closed

House Colours: Slytherin

Calming Presence in Effect: Alyssea Brown Affected

Piérre was here for an entirely different reason than others were apt to think he was here for. In fact, he was actively looking for something. Not in the way that one would think to be looking for things--searching for an item or an object or a person. No, he was looking for something larger and a bit more nebulous in nature than what could be grasped by hands alone. Something a little bigger than that which could fit in his hand like a snitch.

And he was currently running his hands on a cracking and crumbling portion of the Training Pitch's retaining wall muttering to himself about such things--his brows were furrowed and the tips of his fingers were dug in deep and tightly to the cracks and crevasses that had been slowly whittled away by both nature and human touch. Or, well, Bludger touch anyways. The words that left his lips were not fully formed, more of a half-hearted whisper as if in the process of arguing to himself about something nonsensical or other. Already he had been making a few plans, already was he trying to act upon some levels of hopes and desires that he now realized would have to be put into high gear in order to be fully realized.

He was coming to the conclusion that no longer could he be an idle witness, a watching bystander to the things that in the back of his mind, in the shadows of the subconscious, that he knew existed around here. His eyes were keen, his ears were piqued, his five senses were honed and sharper than a razor's thinnest edge freshly whetted...

But he alone was not enough.

Alone, he simply was not enough. And alone was something that he couldn't stand being--he had never been able to stand alone or be alone. Call it a deep-seated narcissism, a lust for the limelight that came at the cost of starvation for attention or a needy thirst for attraction, but Piérre needed to be paid attention to in an almost unhealthy way. He needed to know that someone knew that he existed, that he was there--there as an annoyance or as an interruption, or even as just a mere presence. He needed them to know that he was there, and he needed to know that they knew that he was there. It was a vicious and toxic cycle that consumed itself in its own putrid self-glorification that rivaled that of a god complex.

He had been released from the Dueling team. Disgraced, though, and dismissed quietly was perhaps a better way of phrasing it. A more polite for conversation way of thinking about it. Still permitted to stand as captain, the boy was still trying to teach the youngest lions among them--and he was serving as a target for them to practice their aims upon, nimble as he tended to be. It was better this way--there was something terrible about standing upon that stage, like being a gladiator with the eyes of those jeering for blood and violence. There was the pressure of eyes and the knowledge that your teammate depended upon you to succeed or they and you would suffer together and mercilessly. There was no room for error, every mistake could be fatal.

Every word could kill.

The mania that had risen in his mind considering such things, such terrible and horrific things that a creative mind was apt to do with itself, had consumed him more than once in irrevocable and damaging ways that had resulted in the concern of even proctors themselves for his own mental health--a commodity itself that had been dwindling violently over the span of a year more exponentially than ever--and had resulted in what Piérre had perceived to be the ultimate betrayal of not only friendship but his once chance at redeeming those relationships of former friendship.

He had messed up. And while he knew that he still had a purpose--those young children in the spring had taught him that much--he couldn't put aside the fact that he still felt empty. Hollow. As if something were chewing him up from the inside out.

He knew very few places that were not terribly frequently frequented. The Training Pitch was one of them, and it seemed so far to be the best place to suit his current interest: the reason he was here. The ominous hole dug by the elk-boy was so far unfilled--Piérre remembered what had been in it, what it was that he had kept after it had been thrown to him by the Dead Man. It had joined the morbid collection of things in his suitcase as he lived alone and totally isolated in the Niffler Nook. He had not had roommates for months--better to let himself drive himself mad in peace, he supposed.

A whistle in the air caused the boy to duck for cover, and the glimmer of a silvery broom caught his eyes. Watching it for a second, he shaded his eyes as he looked up towards the flying figure starting to comfortably hang about in the air upon it. Yew wand in his left, he squinted a bit more and then leaned against the wall, trying to properly identify who it was that had suddenly appeared. A slight breeze, either from the wind itself or from the force of air from the passing of the Silver Arrow, ruffled his hair ever so slightly, and the sun found itself for the moment unblemished by the speckling clouds that formed themselves into weedy cirri that had no hope of summoning rain from within their bellies.

Statistics: Stamina 7 | Strength 5 | Evasion 18 | Wisdom 12 | Accuracy 16 | ArcPower 5

Abilities:
Keen Eye | Calming Presence | Beast Master [Cat] | Cat's Grace | Animagus [Hummingbird]

Items:
Wand [Yew & Snallygaster Heartstring] | Soda | [Sharpened] Locksmith's Knife
[Red] Deck of 52 Playing Cards

april 27th 2024; a private training thread with @Piérre Marchonné

Alyssea hummed as she gave the training pitch a tentative circle. Just flying like this was nice, too. Wind in her hair, blood in her ears, clouds just within reach. She hadn't been good at Flying class back in First Year, but with her Second Year having been spent in the air like this more often than not, she grew to like it. Once the basics were done, broom maintenance learned and practiced, she could fly as she liked. She had half a mind to stay alert, pay attention to her surroundings like Professor Lin instructed in their first lesson, but otherwise she cruised like nothing really mattered.

How should she move on the Quidditch pitch when it came time to face the cobras? The unofficial game had just been a taste of Quidditch, learning the rules and figuring out where she was needed. At first, she would be at the centre of the pitch grabbing quaffles; when time arose, she would be the one boosting the Seeker to the snitch; if the chips were down, she might have the courage to cheat. Whatever her captains wanted her to do, wherever she needed to be, she'd do it.

Alyssea took one glance at the ground and then did a double take. Someone was here? Oh gods, she was probably intruding on a Quidditch player's space now. Alyssea quickly descended (not too fast that she'd lose her direction but fast enough that she wasn't dawdling) and tried to catch the person's face. It was a green Slytherin robe. My enemy, was her first thought. Then she shook it out of her head.

"Hey- sorry, did you want to take the pitch? I mean, I could practice another time-" Alyssea was just rambling excuses. Why was she nervous? She didn't have many friends in Slytherin. Yes, that must be it. When she finally hit the ground and could focus on the person, familiarity dawned on her.

"Oh, hello Piérre!" It came first as disappointment then surprise. "What are you doing out here? Aren't you a duellist? You were moderating my last duel back in February."

stats sta 6 (9) | eva 7 (10) | str 6 (9) | wis 8 (11) | arc 6 (9) | acc 8 (11)
abilities prodigal transfig. learner | evasive maneuvers
broom silver arrow (+3 to all stats)

House Colours: Slytherin

Calming Presence in Effect: Alyssea Brown Affected

He would watch the broom rider descend to the ground, blinking a few times before her voice and appearance resummoned to his mind the memory of the duellist that he had indeed--as she said--moderated a duel for just a few months back in that month. Alyssea Brown. "No, not planning on flying right now. Just... looking around, so don't let me be a distraction." He smiled lightly, leaning back against the wall that he had posed himself nearby. The mention of being a former duellist, though, still found itself slightly a sore spot for him. "Ah... it... it didn't work out for me." He said truthfully. "I'm trying my hand somewhere else instead. But hey, if you do swing by the duelling club I'll still be there as an announcer."

He eyed the silver arrow. "'s a nice broom." He nodded to it. The only broom that he'd ever owned that was close to it in its nicety was his own Moontrimmer, that poor poor dusty Moontrimmer that was around four years old and that he had not used for at least three years by now. "I notice a lot of kids fly it. You fly often, then?"

He personally liked flying, but as of late he found that he was able to do it without the help of a broom--and that method to him at least was a lot more fun than flying with something trying to support you from beneath. He blinked through the light again and then casually stretched. "It's been a while since I flew... Flying can't teach me anything anymore, not with all the boring restrictions they put on learning in the name of 'safety' and all." Of course, he was more than sure that he could learn more if he put his mind to flying, that there may be something he could learn that others had learned and would pass down to the student level, but for the most part Piérre was under the firm belief that when it came to something like the intimate ability to fly it was better to learn and to fall and to break and make mistakes all on one's own. "It's a lot more fun to figure out what you're capable of on your own and to invent ways to handle your own body weight on the broom as opposed to being instructed all the time in my opinion." Teaching something as natural as flying was like trying to teach someone how to breathe properly so as to sing. If one had the ability, they just needed to be reminded so that it was ensured they knew how to do it for certain--those who struggled or those just starting to learn were the ones that needed the more in-depth and intense study.

He hummed for a second before crossing his arms again. "Mm... so, what are you doing around here, then? Just practicing outside of class or something?

Statistics: Stamina 7 | Strength 5 | Evasion 18 | Wisdom 12 | Accuracy 16 | ArcPower 5

Abilities:
Keen Eye | Calming Presence | Beast Master [Cat] | Cat's Grace | Animagus [Hummingbird]

Items:
Wand [Yew & Snallygaster Heartstring] | Soda | [Sharpened] Locksmith's Knife
[Red] Deck of 52 Playing Cards

april 27th 2024; a private training thread with @Piérre Marchonné

Alyssea raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, alright." There were a million thoughts of what Piérre could be doing that were running through Alyssea's head; scouting out an area for an event, meeting someone for something, or maybe even just taking a walk for some fresh air. The possibilities were, as the cliché goes, endless. With his expressions and such, she couldn't tell which end of the spectrum his motives sat.

Hearing him quit duelling surprised Alyssea. It was rare for captains to quit their sport, though Alyssea and a few others were the rare exception in that they were never in the sport they captained to begin with. She frowned. "Ah, yeah, that's the case for a lot of people, lately. You trying Quidditch now or something else? Can't think of another reason you'd be down at the Quidditch pitches other than, well, Quidditch."

So many people were quitting duelling after the winter stage. Why? Alyssea's reason had been only because Clark looked like he wouldn't leave the team and she couldn't exactly pair up with him again after the conversation she had with Nurse Sabo and Zach. It hurt, sure, and she would sorely miss duelling, but she had a new place to drown in worries about. As for the others, she had no clue. Why was everyone suddenly leaving?

Alyssea glanced at her Silver Arrow and back at Piérre. Let it be known that Flying was, objectively, her worst subject and it only took a few months and a racing captaincy to convince her to do it more often. "Not really? I figured since I'm a racing vice-captain that it would be good to spend more time flying. Know the ins and tricks of racing and all that."

"Well... I stepped down from duelling, too. For Quidditch." Alyssea added, scratching the back of her neck. "I was gonna take a break from sports in general, but then Hufflepuff was missing a Chaser and I figured it wouldn't hurt to try. I've played Chaser before and wasn't that bad, but... eurgh, the game against Slytherin in a bit is making me nervous. Guess that's why I'm here."

Slytherin was a powerhouse which was unfortunate for her. How would she even contend against Chasers in a higher year level than her, let alone beaters that hit way harder than Hufflepuff's own? Alyssea was already betting that she would not survive longer than three minutes.

Then an idea clicked. Piérre just mentioned he hadn't flown in a long time. "Do you have any experience with Quidditch? I'd love some pointers in being a better player."

stats sta 6 (9) | eva 7 (10) | str 6 (9) | wis 8 (11) | arc 6 (9) | acc 8 (11)
abilities prodigal transfig. learner | evasive maneuvers
broom silver arrow (+3 to all stats)

House Colours: Slytherin

Calming Presence in Effect: Alyssea Brown Affected

Was he coming back to Quidditch? "Mmm... nah." He crossed his arms again a little sheepishly. "The team's moved on from the time I used to play. Ah... and besides a former dueling partner of mine is on the team now... and I..." He considered the best way to politely explain the fallout of the duel which had pushed his mind for some reason at that point beyond the brink of what could be considered rational sanity. "She deserves her space. From me. I just... I've not been doing too hot recently." A bitter laugh. "We all need a break."

And I need to stay away. I'm the reason they all got hurt, after all.

"Broom racing is the only thing left for me, I think. I'm not good for much else otherwise. Gryffindor has an open slot. I'm considering taking it."

Perhaps it would be better for him there: fresh air, scenery, healthy competition in team setting with just enough individuality that when he did eventually screw something up it wouldn't just be his fault hopefully... it seemed the perfect opportunity to try to raise his spirits somehow. He certainly could use a shred of good news or good tidings for once just to offset the misfortune and the trauma.

"I do." He confessed rightfully. "Used to be a Keeper. Was never very good at it though--I was usually the lifeguard for everyone else." The wan smile spread ever so slightly, keeping up appearances. "In fact, I still have my broom with me from way back then."

He quirked his brow at the mention that Alyssea was going to join the Quidditch team. "Ah. So that's why you're flying." The boy recalled the Slytherin team. Yeah... they had a pretty beastly lineup--killer beaters and an ace seeker...

"Slytherin's been beaten several times in the past." He said with the first of a smirk forming and a new mischief in his eyes. "They've never made it to finals in recent years, after all. Last year Hufflepuff beat them out, and the year before that was Ravenclaw. The year before that: Gryffindor. Before that? Hufflepuff again." He chuckled. "Slytherin is the least of your worries. Brushing up on basic Quidditch skills so the captains can trust you to do your job when they need to you is."

So saying, the white wood wand spun in his fingers for a second before the incantation and intent came to his mind. "Accio Moontrimmer Luciana." He said sternly with a flick of his yew wand. His right hand then reached to the empty air, prepared to receive the item he had summoned for himself. With a faint smile and a small hum of patience while the magic did its work, in the next ten seconds there was a rushing sound of something like wind. From the castle flew of its own accord a humble chestnut based broom with birch bristles and a little gold sphere ornament with golden moon and tiny stars alongside it hung on the shaft. Within moments it flung itself into the waiting right hand of the boy before coming to a full stop. There were a few gold detailings on the part where the bristles met the branch proper, but that was about it. It was a simple broom, a functional broom, but a respectable enough broom nevertheless for being more 'common' than a silver arrow or the esteemed Firebolt.

"Personally... I prefer actually doing some flight training rather than giving pointers." His voice never raised above the soft for some reason. For some reason he couldn't quite bring himself to dare speak any louder, even with the hope of a distraction to clear away the evil feelings and the crushing thoughts that were running more than rampant through his mind from the events having occurs a fortnight before. Was it even right to consider being distracted a 'good way' to deal with anything? Was it even within his right to dare distract himself when real prices had been paid and real damages had occurred?

What the Hell was he thinking, thinking that he could just sweep it all under the rug and act as if nothing that had occurred to him over the course of the past years had any effect on him at all?

"Would you be game? You're a chaser, I'm a keeper, it's practically a match made in heaven." He blinked once and then glanced aside, planting the end of the broom into the ground lightly and drawing an incoherent pattern into the ground idly. "If you want."

Statistics: Stamina 7 | Strength 5 | Evasion 18 | Wisdom 12 | Accuracy 16 | ArcPower 5

Abilities:
Keen Eye | Calming Presence | Beast Master [Cat] | Cat's Grace | Animagus [Hummingbird]

Items:
Wand [Yew & Snallygaster Heartstring] | Soda | [Sharpened] Locksmith's Knife
[Red] Deck of 52 Playing Cards | Moontrimmer [Luciana]

april 27th 2024; a private training thread with @Piérre Marchonné

"Mm," Alyssea hummed, "I wish someone had the same initiative. It would've let me stay in Duelling. But, well, sometimes you just gotta let go of the things you love to protect yourself in the end." And there had been an itch to make a move to a broom sport (specifically Racing) since getting her racing captaincy. In some ways, Clark had given her the push to leave, albeit not for the reasons she hoped but reasons nonetheless.

The mention of Piérre moving into Broom Racing had Alyssea's face beaming. She gasped. "Do it! Racing is really fun! And, uh- I promise I'm not biased or anything because I'm a captain," she chuckled. "It might surprise you, just how much you'll end up loving it. I know a bunch of people who felt like that after giving it a go."

"Racing is different from Quidditch, though, which isn't that surprising." Alyssea shrugged. If it was, she wouldn't be putting this extra effort into training for the sport she'd taken up a position in on impulse. It would've been easy if all she did have to do was fly and survive, but Quidditch had a lot of moving parts and she had a role she needed to prime herself for.

Alyssea watched as said Moontrimmer joined the field. Compared to her Silver Arrow, with its bright sheen like the moonlight, the broom was more on the grounded side of the colour scheme with a brown handle and golden bristles. In a way, it was gorgeous. It was a little obvious the love that had been poured into it over the years, though it was still well-maintained.

When Piérre offered to player Keeper for her, her grip on her broom tightened and she vigorously nodded. "Yes, please! I'd love to."

Mounting her broom, she kicked right back into the air and found the quaffles she'd tossed in a corner and hit them all back to the center of the field. Alyssea took one deep breath in. Now, on top of moving unpredictably and trying to aim the quaffle in the hoop, she had to figure out how to move in a way that the quaffle could pass the opponent and still into the hoop.

She took one last look between the quaffles and the hoops and sighed. "Right, here goes..."

stats sta 6 (9) | eva 7 (10) | str 6 (9) | wis 8 (11) | arc 6 (9) | acc 8 (11)
abilities prodigal transfig. learner | evasive maneuvers
broom silver arrow (+3 to all stats)