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Interacting With: @Tyranni Whitethorn as @Espen Kvalheim, @Evelynn Decipio as @Margarethe Franssen, @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood as @Valentin “Der Niffler” Schnell, @Piérre Marchonné as @Romeo Marchonné, @Durmstrang Quidditch Team
Mentioning: @Amara Dragamior, @Griseldis Edelhardt as @Kolya Dimitriyevich Mikhailov, @Ruby Cazares as @Vyacheslav “Slava” Aleksandrovich Preobrazhensky
Hex Color: #0080BF

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Long ago were the days when Quidditch was all in good fun.

The night was young, the sounds of his fellow campers resonating about the London Quidditch Stadium as the young Captain made his way onto the field, eyes keen and mouth taut in a thin line as he walked with brisk steps. Tonight was quite the important night, after all, Durmstrang’s one chance to prove that they were the best of the best – there was little room for error, even less room for unprofessionalism. As such, Hanzo was a different creature tonight. Once a kindly, cheerful boy with a halo hovering above his head, the child was now keen-eyed, focused, his gaze steely as he surveyed the pitch for fellow team members. It was quite the turnout tonight, he absently noticed, the students of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Ilvermorny cheering their favorite teams on as the oppressively hot breeze blew about in the air, disturbing anyone who chose to spectate the game and tousling the robes of the young Quidditch Player. However, no heat would stop Durmstrang from accomplishing victory tonight. Hanzo would do whatever it took to secure a win for his team – even if it meant dishonorable methods. However, his need for victory extended far past his team members and friends. At the very indication of his crush, his blue eyes scanned the crowds, searching for his lovely new friend – Amara Dragomior, the girl he’d run into during the barbecue event. A girl he’d been developing feelings for, though he would never admit it to anyone, in the fear of being made fun of, should the feelings not be returned. If not for his team, he had to make her proud tonight, prove to her that he was the Captain he said he was. There were a lot of stakes on this particular game. One fact stayed the same – Durmstrang could not lose.

Not tonight.

Nimbus 1700 in-hand – it was all his parents could afford for him – the boy shortly boarded his broom, hauling himself into the air as his eyes shortly began surveying his surroundings. He just couldn’t help the insecurity that shrouded his thoughts, he realized with much chagrin. Their team was strong, anyone could see that much by looking at their well-built ranks, but even the best could fail in the right circumstances. It didn’t help that Durmstrang was facing Hufflepuff, the champions of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with three out of three wins to prove their mettle. Which meant the entire Russian Team was going to be in the hotseat – they were counting on Kolya and Slava to knock out the competition, Espen and Greta to score points, Romeo to defend their goals, der Niffler to catch the snitch – the pressure was real, but Durmstrang knew pressure well, if their curriculum was anything to go by. Nonetheless, it went unsaid that he had to address his team before the game.

Shortly approaching the benches with the rest of his team, the boy would nod towards the other Quidditch Players, giving them an encouraging sort of look – [In Russian] “Let’s go, Durmstrang!” he would shout above the noises of the spectators, fist raising into the air in a sign of triumph. “You all are awesome players, that’s no secret. Don’t let them get into your heads! No mercy!” It would be all that would come to his mind in that moment. Then, returning Romeo’s nod with one of his own, he would then turn to der Niffler, nodding shortly with a wry sort of smile. [In Russian] “We’ll keep you safe. Just catch that snitch, yeah?” It wasn’t an order, more of a friendly compilation of words meant to reassure the team’s seeker from any stress he may have been feeling in facing the burly beaters of Hogwarts. Though his words weren’t spoken in vain. Not in the very least.

Turning, he would fly onto the pitch, readying himself in his respective position, before nodding at his respective chasers with a nervous smile. [In Russian] “Be safe, you guys,” he would squeak, trying to keep face in the midst of his team members. [In Norwegian] "Especially you, Greta. Don’t try anything too ambitious. It would be a real shame if you got yourself hurt.” His sister was stronger than she looked, the Captain knew that, but it went unsaid that he worried about the girl. Well, he supposed it didn’t matter anymore. It was the final countdown – the boy could only pray now, hope for the best. Steeling his gaze and leaning forward, he awaited the inevitable, preparing for the agony and pain that was to come –

OOC Note: Hanzo speaks Norwegian, Russian, English, and Greek fluently. Will be specifying in my posts which he uses in his speech. Have fun, and happy RPing, everyone!

Hanzo Fransson || First-String Chaser

STAM | 4 EVA | 11 STR | 4

WIS | 9 ARC | 1 ACC | 12

────────────────────────────── Monster Hunter | You are a human unlike these.... these... monsters! This ability only works on magical creatures. +2 accuracy against anything that has non-human ancestry. ──────────────────────────────

Broom | Nimbus 1700 [Stats Added Above]

Interacting with @Marla Quinlan [Elias Oja]
Open to Interactions

Sasha was still more than a little bitter that he was benched. With all due respect, he was about to head into his 5th year, and both of the beaters placed above him were younger than him. Sasha spent months, and he means goddamn months training. It was Quidditch and hockey, they went hand-in-hand to him, and he did everything in his power to put all of his energy towards both. Only to be benched.

He wondered to himself if the two beaters above him even wanted to play professional Quidditch like he did. Still, they were his teammates and he had to respect them (to some extent), and he knew it wasn't their fault that they were picked over him. But Sasha was angry none the less. At least Elias also understood what it was like to be benched. At least he wasn't sitting here alone like a fool. Not that Sasha wasn't used to embarrassing himself like that, but in his one and only strongsuit... That wasn't easy to accept.

"Sen pitäisi olla me..." Sasha fantasized, nodding at Elias. His eyes, however, were cast at the first string players, who were getting into position. He was right, too. It should be them. But it wasn't, and now Sasha had to wait on the bench. Wait for his turn. Wait for his time to shine.

Actions: Benched
Translations: Sen pitäisi olla me... --> That should be us...
[Sasha is fluent in Finnish, English and Russian, he is conversational in Swedish but not fluent, and is learning Northern Sami and some Latvian]

Stats & Abilities
Second-String Beater (#74)
STR 9 | STA 9 | ARC 4 | ACC 10 | WIS 4 | EVA 9

a1. Evasive Maneuvers
a2. Charmer
a3. Obnoxiously Strong

Broom: Moontrimmer

Today was the day. The day she had been anticipating for weeks. Atlas could never have guessed that when she was picked to join the quidditch team that they would be playing against Durmstrang in the London Stadium in the summer. It was a huge jump and although she felt her nerves painting goosebumps over her skin, her adrenaline was keeping her motivated and amped.

Hearing the roar of the crowd as Durmstang entered the field, practically shook the foundation as she twisted her left hand around her new broom. She hadn't had much practice with it but she had confidence that under pressure she would succeed with her new friend. It could only get better for her as her old school broom would be no comparison to her Nimbus 1000.

Checking over her uniform, Atlas tightened her knee pads and arm guards, reaching down to her feet to make sure her boot strings were double knotted. That's all she would need with her clumsily luck is to have a piece of her equipment falling off in the game.

Hearing the announcer give their introduction, Atlas joined her team in kicking off the ground on her broom as she raced out onto the field doing a twirl in the air as she raced past the Hufflepuff section desperately looking for her best friend.

The stadium was enormous in size and everyone was blurred together with signs, outfits and face paint that it was almost impossible to make out any face in particular but she knew he was there. She knew he was watching and cheering her on like he always was.

With the sun making its descent the air was cooling down from the sweltering morning but it still felt unbearable if you sat still. Atlas's only solace was her constant movement keeping a breeze blowing on her face, albeit hot, but still better than static air. She hated the heat. Rain, Wind, Snow, and Cold were always where she felt more comfortable because she was always able to add layers, there was only so many she could take off.

Trying to forget about the gross temperature around her, Atlas grinned widely, waving at her fellow Puffs as she swooped down descending to the benches. Conflicted, Atlas desperately wanted to play in the game but didn't want Willow to be injured or attacked. She wanted them to win. They had to win. There was no other option.

ACTION: Benched and Loudly Cheering on her Team
For MOD - Stats:

Reducio

POSITION:
Keeper: Second String

STATISTICS:
Stamina: 6 (+1) = 7
Evasion: 7
Strength: 4 (+1) = 5
Wisdom: 7
Arc. Power: 7
Accuracy: 5 (+1) = 6

BROOM:
Nimbus 1000
Racing broom available on the market in 1967, it combines the Oakshaft 79's sturdiness with the Cleansweeps maneuverability.
Stats: +1 accuracy, +1 strength, +1 stamina [Added above for ease]

ABILITIES:
Fearless

This was it. They were going to war for the championship. Just like Winston Churchill once said, 'I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat' and that was exactly what Nikolai was going to do.

This day had been one in the making of Nikolai's head for awhile. The roar of the crowd. The thunderous applause. The blood from doing battle out on the pitch. The icky feeling of them profusely sweating. All the hard-work that they had put in the past year to get them to where they were now. The International Quidditch Tournament between Wizarding Schools. This was like the Quidditch World Cup to them almost but for schools internationally and now they were going head to head with Hogwarts in the championship game for it. Nikolai had no plans of losing in his playbook for this match. It was sunset at this point but the way they would play tonight is what they would leave behind. It call came down to right now and it was up to to them. So, what were they going to be? T-E-A-M team! High School Musical things. Durmstrang would have to be one united front against the unstoppable Hogwarts house that was Hufflepuff.

Nikolai could already hear the distant roar that came from the crowd from within their locker, it only grew louder as they came to a halt at the door in front of them that would release the team. The beater wore a serious, cold expression that was plastered across his face, as per usual. In that moment before the doors would open, the only thing Nikolai was able to hear was the rapid beat of his heart. The heart that used to beat so passionately for his father, Adelaide, and among other things. Now, it was just a distant reminder of a time in his life that he yearned for every day, but so regularly pushed away. With a huff of frustrated, hot air that Nikolai let out, he dismissed the distraction aside and focused his hardened gaze on the door in front of them once again. With that, the doors opened and the proud sons and daughters of Durmstrang were released. It was game time.

With the mounting of his broom alongside his teammates, Nikolai zoomed onto the pitch as they all flew about in one formation like an army until splitting up on their own. In that moment, Niko felt oddly excited and pumped up. Well, of course he was pumped. Who wouldn't be for a championship game as big as this? But he felt a different sense of 'pumped up', one that made him want to cheer alongside everyone else and show off a bit, which he never had the urge or enjoyment in doing. He was a reserved, serious, and dutiful boy who never showed much excitement in things. But all of this? Him being one of the many proud sons of Durmstrang that he was couldn't help but perform a Sloth Grip Roll, making himself hang upside down on his broom while holding on tightly with both his hands and feet before coming back up. As soon as he came back, he stood atop his broom mid-flight to broom surf and swiftly pass by the stands with the pump of his fist into the air, roaring enthusiastically to continue cheering on until sitting down on his broom once again. Nikolai would continuously tell himself in his head that this was just him putting up a facade and that this excitement among other feelings were all fake but deep down inside he knew they weren't.

After all of that, Nikolai eventually assumed his position besides his fellow teammates who were cheering on their team from the bench. At least he wasn't the only one who was slightly embarrassed by being on the bench, especially with a crowd of thousands like this. For now, he just reassured himself that they were mainly focused on the match in the air rather than the benched players down below. All he wanted to do was be up in the air at that very moment, fighting to win and represent his school beside his brothers and sisters. It was his way of releasing all the pain that he had pent up inside of him. The echoing crack of his beater's bat against a bludger was like music to his ears and a pleasure that he always looked forward to. All he could do for now was just support his teammates and stand there with one hand behind his back and the other holding up his broom, gazing up at the match with the cold look in his eyes. The war paint that Greta had put on him probably made him look more scarier than usual in his serious body language and overall look.

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Benched and watching his teammates

Action: Benched, cheering for team Hufflepuff

Action: Doing as strategized

Madhup was always vying for the limelight. The young Leo thrived on attention, on excitement, on being recognized for what he could accomplish. Yet even for one as attention-seeking as he, the energy in the London Stadium was almost overwhelming. Between a roaring crowd, thunderous applause, and what looked like a thousand faces all on the two teams, the scrappy Durmstrang boy felt a fluttering in the pit of his abdomen. Realizing the spectacle had caused his breath to freeze, he took a deep inhale before soaring out amidst his fellows.

Cockiness radiated from the Silver Arrow flyer. When they swept close to their school's stands, he raised a preemptively triumphant fist, eyes burning and expression exaggerated by pure elation. A rambunctious roar was followed by exhilarated laughter, swallowed up by the sound of the crowd. As their lap brought them by the Hogwarts onlookers, he sat a little straighter, head held high. One hand held fast to his broom. The other blew kisses, winks and waves sent to any witch he laid eyes on. It may have been that the boy thought them unfamiliar, exotic, interesting. It may have been that he was doing his very best to annoy any and all Hogwarts students that looked his way. Whatever the case may be, teasing ended once he was on the bench. Being a second-string player did not bother the egotistical second-year. In his self-centric mind, he was there as a "punisher": if enough players were taken out to warrant his involvement, he would be ready to make those Hufflepuffs regret it.

(Position)
Second-String Chaser.

(Action)
Posturing, hyping up Durmstrang, and going to the benches.

(Ability)
Foulplay: 25% chance that cheating will go unnoticed by referees.

(Stats)
With Silver Arrow +3 Modifiers- Stamina: 9 / Evasion: 10 / Strength: 11 / Wisdom: 6 / ArcP: 6 / Accuracy: 11
Vanilla- Stamina: 6 / Evasion: 7 / Strength: 8 / Wisdom: 3 / ArcP: 3 / Accuracy: 8

The long awaited game against Hogwarts Champion team, Hufflepuff, was alas here. Listening to his Captain address the team, adrenaline raced through Espen. Grabbing his broom, a Silver Arrow gifted to him anonymously after the continued success Durmstrang's Quidditch team had experienced this year, the boy marched out to the pitch. Mounting his broom, he looked around him awestruck. People filled the stands. Cheers erupted as his teammates and himself took to the air.

Brown locks tousled in the wind blowing past him as he raced around the pitch. Despite the untidiness of his hair, the boy still appeared with an aura unexplained, one that instantly charmed many he met. Dark eyes sparkled with the excitement he felt. He smiled, overwhelmed by the energy that emanated from those around him.

Upon seeing the first flash of yellow enter the field, the boy let out a loud shout of distaste. He found his fellow Chasers on the pitch. It was important to know where your teammates were located. As the final lap neared, Espen took a quick moment to send off a silent prayer to Thor for the strength to gain possession of the quaffle and Heimdall, for foresight to anticipate the actions of Hufflepuffs players. A quick breath, and the boy lets the sound of the bystanders disappear, focusing instead on the game. Taking his place, he waited for the game to start.

Stamina: 10 (13)	Evasion: 10 (13)	Abilities: Charmer Effect: -1 accuracy to all of your opponents (as defined at the start of the instance regardless of later betrayal)
Strength: 5 (8)	Wisdom: 0 (3)	Broom: Silver Arrow | +3 to all stats as indicated by the bold numbers in (#)
Arcane Power: 0 (3)	Accuracy: 10 (13)	Position: First-String Chaser

Action: Getting into position | Doing as strategized

Saskia had never been so nervous in her life.

There were moments where she found herself paralyzed and unsure of what to do. When she played in her first Quidditch match and acted as the captain of her team, it was both the adrenaline from being so high up in the sky and determination to prove herself that gave her strength. Without them, she would have faltered and possibly spelled doom for her team. It was easier in the next matches, but each time, new expectations rose. Would Hufflepuff keep their winning streak or would they have finally fallen? Those were the questions she constantly asked herself. Were they ready? Was she ready? She would ask herself once again as she walked into the stadium.

She recognized it as the London Quidditch Stadium. A large playing field- much larger than their school's own Quidditch pitch. It would have been a dream come true for any Quidditch fanatic to be on this field, let alone play in it. If it wasn't for the warm air permeating around her, she may as well have believed that it was a dream. How often was it that someone was able to step foot here? As much of a privilege as it was, it was just as daunting to look at the vast field. And that wasn't mentioning all the spectators who would be looking at her.

She could see her teammates already lined up in the sky and Durmstrang's team on the other side. She knew about Durmstrang's reputation, and from what she saw from their team, she knew exactly what her team would be dealing with. They wouldn't be like the other teams they faced in previous games. She may not have known these people personally, but she knew they wouldn't go easy on them. She didn't expect them too. Her team would be giving it their all too, if they wanted to win this.

She inhaled sharply, her grip on her broom tightening. She needed to stay focused. No matter what happened, she couldn't lose to her temper. She may not have been Quidditch Captain anymore, but she still had the team's, as well as the school's reputation to uphold. This wasn't just a regular game. People were counting on them to give them a show. Others expected them to win.

If they wanted a show, she would at least give them that. As for winning, she would try her hardest to help achieve that. She just had to stick to the plan.

Action: Getting into position

Stats
Stamina: 9+3 = 12
Evasion: 6+3 = 9
Strength: 7+3 = 10
Wisdom: 7+3 = 10
Arcane Power: 6+3 = 9
Accuracy: 8+3 = 11

Broom: Silver Arrow (+3 to every stat)

Abilities: Fearless