𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚎 Spectator Thread May 2022 Ravenclaw v Hufflepuff

Mathias spilled his pumpkin juice.

Hiro couldn't help but smile. "A little jumpy, hm?" He asked with an arched brow.

It was almost as if Mathias was trying hard to not be seen supporting his girlfriend out in public. But then, why would he cheer for her so hard then? Hiro grinned as his roommate spoke about putting a bell on him. "Aw, you want me to be your little cat? That's sweet." He said, teasing Mathias. The boy's reaction to missing Winnie's greeting made Hiro's lips twitch. Mathias had it bad for her, he had known about his feelings for a long time.

Despite how Hia kept telling him that he didn't have feelings for her, Hiro had known he was just trying to deny them for some reason. The pink haired boy continued to stand behind Mathias as the latter stated that he'd missed her to him. "Of course. You're meant to be together, it's only natural for you to miss her when she's not with you." Hiro said and grinned when Mathias let it slip he was there to watch Winnie. Well, that was obvious.....

Mathias asked what 'Hia' was and Hiro smiled.

He was about to tell him when the two were interrupted by the arrival of someone new.

A red t-shirt, baggy shorts, flipflops and sunglasses met his vision. They were worn by a boy Hiro didn't recognize and he let his eyes descend onto the stranger. Since Hiro was behind Mathias at the time and up on the bleachers a little, he was elevated a bit and stood slightly above Beach Boy. As the latter moved to stand in front of Mathias, Hiro regarded him. It looked as if the boy wanted to start a fight or something. How would Mathias react to all this?

Still, Beach Boy hadn't really done or said anything to make Hiro think he'd actually DO something. Not right now at least. The pink towel still floated above Mathias's head as the two boys before Hiro stared at eachother. It reminded him a little of the beginning of a duel or street race. The towel acted almost like a flag of some sort which when dropped would signal the beginning of the 'match'. Beach Boy's next words made Hiro tilt his head. Winnie?

So he knew Winnie.

Did Mathias know him? Marshal. So that was his name.

And then Marshal directed his attention at him and Hiro let his eyes flicker over him for a moment. It was almost as if he was studying him for a brief second and then a smile came to his lips. One of his usual fake smiles. But Marshal most likely wouldn't be able to tell because Hiro's fake smiles were very realistic ones. He'd gone through a lot of effort to make them seem genuine and real and so far he'd succeeded for the most part in convincing everyone.

Convincing them that they weren't fake smiles. From his current vantage point, Hiro was too far away to accept the handshake. He'd have to come out from behind Mathias and go down the steps a bit to get close enough to reach Marshal's outstretched hand. And Hiro was quite comfortable where he was at the moment. "Hiro. Nice to meet you, Marshal." He told him and inclined his head towards the other boy. "Sorry, I'm a little busy right now."

"With this spell." Hiro said.

He gestured at the levitating pink towel, still hovering above Mathias's head.

"Or else I'd come down and shake your hand." Hiro told him and let his eyes flicker over Marshal for a few seconds. "You're a Hogwarts student, right? How do you know Winnie?" Hiro asked, curious. And also attempting to draw the conversation away from Mathias for a time. If Mathias wanted to talk to him, obviously Hiro wouldn't stop him, but if he wanted to gather his thoughts together first, now was the perfect chance to do so.

Hiro looked down at Marshal, waiting for a response.

Interactions: @Marshal Mozor, @Kim Sato as iNPC Hiro Bakugo
Mention: @Winnie Harper, @Quinn Healy, @Percival Gray, @Jack Burnett

Hiro seemed pleased with himself and his incessant meddling. That he was out in public favoring Harper, or at least her house. "He is... okay," he huffed.

A perfectly fine view of the pitch replaced by a view of a mediocre ass. A sort of middle-aged, father of three attire with mandals, no even worse flip-flops -- that sort of thing women wear when getting pedicures or when they feel that a toe thong was reasonable beach attire. A red tee and shorts. Fitting for comfort, fitting for the weather but they did the boy's figure no favors.

"I have a pretty thirsty roommate," Pride warned as the posterior view lingered as the game came to a start. Winnie was warming a bench mostly out of view, but knowing Hufflepuff she would be on the pitch within the first few minutes of the game. Quinn Healy was fun to watch, he half expected the part giant to rip the opposition off of their brooms and use an unfortunate underclassman as a bat. "You can stay there the whole match, but I cannot promise you your safety," he added in a casual tone. Was this Pride hitting on the Gryffindor? No, he had no interest in romance contrary to his choices this past year. He was prodding at the insecurities and the diversion from societal norms. Creating an era of discomfort through the use of interactions when observed, replicated or even recorded would simply suggest simple, innocent banter.

If his words were what drew him from his previous role as a fleshy wall or if the teen was simply 'lonely' it did not matter greatly. Although he would have preferred if his mannerisms, words or arrogant presence had driven away any and all interested parties. "Mathias Pride, isn't it?" he asked.

He quirked a brow at the casual announcement of his name. This meeting was hardly coincidental was it. "Sometimes," he replied. Sometimes he stole his former dormmates names -- Percival Gray, Jack Burnett, whatever name struck his fancy at a given moment.

"I recognize you from the ball the other night," had he ended here the tension would have dissipated, he was nothing more than an observer among the memory that heard a name and saw a face. Yet he reinforced the fact that this was hardly a coincidence when he added "Winnie's told me so much about you."

"Nothing good I would imagine," he replied as he fished out a handful of cashews from his satchel. "Were you another one of her suitors?" Besides he who shall not be named. He did not look like Winnie's type, this sort of beach-bum aesthetic. "Or is this some sort of misguided quest for 'justice'?" A damsel in distress in need of rescue from the guy that goes to another school that dared to not mail her back?

He was being observed. "Congrats on being named one of the school champions, although I hear you've since withdrawn? I'm Marshal, by the way."

"An error," he lied. "It is in the hands of who it is supposed to be in." Not really, but it was the expected statement at the very least. The words practiced and void of emotion or thought. "But it seems that I am at a disadvantage, you know so much about me and I know so very little about you," his eyes left the pitch, "Marshall."

Dee was just slightly late when she burst through the doors of the Ravenclaw common room and started sprinting down the spiral staircase, taking three steps at a time. She considered trying for a fourth one, but that honestly seemed like a very efficient way to break her legs, which would just end up delaying her more, so three would have to do. She wasn't late to the game - yet - but she was definitely running late for meeting up with Aaron, and her stomach reminded her quite clearly that she should probably grab something to eat before heading down to the Quidditch match.

The only reason that Dee was already awake at all and currently sporting Ravenclaw blue on several pieces of clothing - it was a weekend, and she'd usually insist on her right to sleep in and lounge in bed for as long as she liked - was Aly, who had very rapidly developed into being her best friend over the last few months. Her dorm mate was also the only reason Dee was actually going to watch a Quidditch game, something that Dee had managed to avoid for the past three years. She vaguely remembered that someone had tried to explain the rules to her during her first year here, but her aversion to brooms and any related sports had not made her a very attentive student, and she had managed to forget the few things she'd known in the time since. Except that there were hoops, and way too many balls, some of which tried to murder you.

Her detour to the great hall lasted just long enough for her to snatch a banana and a breakfast roll, before she finally looked for Aaron in the crowd. She joined him on the way to the pitch almost on time, and somewhat out of breath, her brunette hair messy and a little tangled.

The offer on a rule refresher was accepted with a nod and a mouth full of banana. Might as well know the basics if she was going to do this to herself.

Standing next to Aaron, Dee hastily swallowed her food when the Ilvermorny headmaster started announcing the players. Why was he the referee of this game? It seemed a little random, but what did she know about Quidditch customs.

"Knock them off their brooms!" she joined in Aaron's cheering when Aly flew out onto the pitch, then leaned over to her friend. "Wait, what's her job? Does she knock people off?"

It didn't seem like that particular activity was restricted to any specific position, however, since as soon as the match started, people just started flying into each other. Probably on purpose, although it was hard to tell.

Dee shot Aaron a questioning glance. "Is it supposed to be like this? Didn't you say most of the players should be focusing on the big red ball? Or are they just terrible flyers. I wouldn't judge." Much.

Aly, for one, actually did what Aaron had told her to expect, she was staying close to the Ravenclaw goal hoops. Dee squinted, trying to make out the other tiny people on brooms. There, that was Cecily, right? And Syl? She thought she could recognise most of the Ravenclaw team.

Hufflepuff sported a few familiar faces, too. Quinn was easily recognisable, of course, and Plott had yelled Howard's name not just once, but twice, so Dee recognised him as well when he immediately managed to score three times against Ravenclaw, while around him players of both teams were already dropping like flies.

"Aly, I think you're supposed to stop the ball from going through the rings!" she yelled, supportive as ever, but she was grinning. Perhaps she couldn't make sense of what was happening on that field, but she could still cheer for her friend. "Don't let Hufflepuff beat your streak, you hear me?"

@Aaron Jones | @Aly Salinger

Open to Interaction | Interacting with Marius

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Brown," Evelynn replied, brow lofted with pleasant surprise. It wasn't everyday that someone introduced themselves in mirror fashion to her own. In fact, she couldn't recall a single instance where someone had done it legitimately without an air of mockery or sarcasm. And yet she could detect neither from this particular individual. Pleasant surprise would soon turn to outright surprise, however, as the boy shifted the tone of the introductions.

"Well..." she heard herself replying, taken aback by the enthusiasm by which he claimed to know her. Honestly, Evelynn doubted she would ever claim to grow accustomed to this notion of fame. You're famous all over the school, he had said, the conviction of his tone more than enough to assure her that it had to be true. Perhaps it was.. The hairs along her spine slowly erected themselves at the thought, and what implications it might bring. She tried to laugh it off, the breathy chortle escaping briefly through her nose as she forced a placated smile into place. "..I suppose my reputation precedes me. And if you are as enthusiastic about Quidditch as you suggest, it may behove you to know that it is actually captain now." There was neither a sense of entitlement nor victory in the way she spoke the claim, but rather a dulcet correction of fact. "D'Spacito seems to have made himself scarce, necessitating my full acquisition of the team. The new co-captain is—"

Speak of the devil and may they appear... or so they say. As coincidence would have it, the new co-captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team would make an appearance in the stands in that very moment, practically bumping into poor Marius Brown.

"—right here, evidently," Evelynn finished, pasting Zhang with a contained, but somewhat bewildered expression. "Mind where you are going.." she urged coyly, corner of her mouth curling with amusement. "We would not wish to upend anyone over the lip of the stands.." Then a pause as Zhang addressed the young Master Brown. "You two know each other?" She supposed she ought not be surprised. They were both first year, after all, and likely shared a number of classes. "Then I gather I needn't offer any introduction by name. Regardless..." she continued, returning her gaze to Brown. "Zhang is the new Gryffindor Quidditch co-captain. They have been working diligently. If you happen to spectate our game this afternoon, you will have the opportunity to witness it first hand."

Movement behind Brown would briefly capture the captain's attention. The stands were filling up and familiar faces were making themselves apparent. One in particular had drawn her gaze to him. "Marshal!" she called out, lifting a hand in preparation to wave him over. "Over her—"

She cut off, lips pursing with a slight furrowing of her brow. Her plan to wave him over to sit with them would find itself cut short on two fronts. First, Zhang was already manoeuvring themselves to stake a claim on the seat that Evelynn had meant to keep open for Mozor. And second, it seemed Marshal had decided to get himself otherwise occupied anyway, foiling whatever half-baked plan she might have had. Tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth as she watched him fall into a conversation with Pride. Well, she wasn't about to go dragging him out of that considering her current position and set-up to watch the game.

"And.. no.." came the delayed response to Zhang, her chin swivelling about to her other side now as they found their seat opposite and lofted hand drifting back to her lap. "You ought not be at all surprised. I have yet to miss a match. Studying our opponents is just as important as spending time with actual practice when it comes to strategizing and gaining insight in how else we might grow as individuals and as a team." With a jut of her chin in the direction of the pitch, she added, to both of them now, "Pay close attention to Ravenclaw's 29. Moussa has incredible skill as a beater. Hufflepuff's captain Healy is a frightening presence as well, but his ability is not—unfortunately—something you can learn. His penchant to take and deliver a hit is largely a credit to his giant heritage.

"Ami, however, is another to watch.." And it would be here that Evelynn's gaze redirected themselves back towards the pitch, eager to take in the game as everyone finished getting back into position. She would not be prepared for what was to come in the first few minutes of the game.

Spectacular Banner by Leonard Oaksworth

Interactions: @Mathias Pride @Kim Sato as Hiro Bakugo

Mentions: @Winnie Harper ==================

Telltale signs of arrogance and self-importance did not escape Marshal’s notice, indicating that Pride possessed the exact kind of personality that would lead an individual to treat Winnie as less than she was, and that irked the Gryffindor as a matter of principal. This was clearly someone he wouldn’t normally deign to waste his time with, unwilling to taint his days with such a sickly influence. And yet, the interests of the girl on the bench below drove him to linger, even less willing to let her waste her own life.

The initial comments spewed from Mathias’s mouth had clashed with silence, as their intended recipient offered no indication he’d heard them before taking a seat. Nor was the ambiguous response to the question of his name given any credence. Marshal was not here to play games.
Presently, however, the other boy’s implication that Winnie would only have ill to say about him elicited a raised eyebrow, arching above the top rim of the sunglasses. But it wasn’t until after the following inquiries that the blond would expend the energy required for a response.
”Clearly you understand you’ve wronged her, or you wouldn’t think to ask me such a question.” His tone had gone cold, any pretense of a friendly interaction melting from the anger that suddenly warmed his chest. The Slytherin’s obvious lack of remorse, or even effort to deny his transgressions, had shattered his intentions at going about this subtly. The subject hadn’t even been brought up - save for a mention of Winnie’s name - and yet Mathias had chosen to address it immediately. He wasn’t ashamed of it. He was proud of it.

Jaw now set in a hard line, his eyes flitted back to the third party in this interaction, who had introduced himself, yet declined to shake Marshal’s hand. But at the very least, he’d shown some form of emotion beyond self-indulgence, and demonstrated an ability to uphold a normal introduction, rather than whatever the heck had constrained upon his companion.
Perturbed as he was by Pride’s attitude, Marshal skipped over the niceties that regularly influenced his disposition towards a new face, though he wasn’t about to ignore Hiro entirely.
”I am a Hogwarts student,” he replied, straining to keep the ice intended for Mathias from his voice. ”Are you not?” He studied Hiro for a moment, unable to recall seeing the boy at any point in the past. Perhaps he hailed from one of the other schools of magic and wizardry. It was a possibility, given the inter-school nature of the recent ball. ”Winnie is a friend of mine.” Head turning slowly back to Pride, he added pointedly, words freezing over once more, ”Which is more than you seem able to say.”
The title of ‘boyfriend’ was often held in higher regard than the word taken from its latter half. But in truth, that latter half was born prior to any addition of the former. It was necessary for it to precede the longer term, which indicated something more. Or, at least, it should have been.

The Slytherin’s answer to his query concerning the tournament was toneless and dull; lacking, at best. Like a robot speaking not its own thoughts, but a recorded phrase, originating from a human voice only to be replicated by mechanical vocal chords.
”So long as your school’s honor isn’t in hands like yours, it’s probably for the best.” One corner of his mouth quirked upward in a sardonic grin. ”And I think I’ll keep that advantage to myself for now. All you need to know is that Winnie is very important to me,” Removing the sunglasses, he leaned closer, allowing his hazel gaze to bore into its target. ”And you are not. If one half of this equation doesn’t act like it should, then I think you’ll find the result much different than what you expect.” Hot breath would brush against Pride’s features, reflecting the flames burning in the pit of his stomach.

The friendly wave from Winnie below would go unnoticed, his focus wholly on the snake before him. It was Mathias’s move, and for his own sake, he had best make the right one.

”Clearly you understand you’ve wronged her, or you wouldn’t think to ask me such a question.”

Wronged? No, pissed off? Yeah, most definitely. A thin smile had crept onto his face. "Yeah, probably," he replied without a tone of regret. She was pretty pissed off wasn't she? The lack of a handshake had told Pride all he needed to know as he looked down at his empty hand, a social faux pas to deny a civil handshake. Even the most unprivileged, unregulated of muggleborns knew how to extend their limp digits in an expression of feigned good-will. That slight smile turned into a smirk as he met the teen's eyes with his own.

Hardly a coincidence.

”Winnie is a friend of mine.” 'Friend' eh? Sure buddy. ”Which is more than you seem able to say.”

"We mostly make-out," he grinned. His studied the boy's expression. Was this another pseudo big brother with a short fuse or was this another love interest? He would go as far as to ask. It would not be much of a shock, the girl was basically cotton candy. A cavity waiting to happen and most of the boys here had one hell of a sweet tooth.

”So long as your school’s honor isn’t in hands like yours, it’s probably for the best.”

"Yeh, winning immediately really deters from the point of a contest," he claimed arrogantly. Hardly one to admit the actual reason or truth.

Who the hell are you anyways?

A query that was met with a sardonic grin. ”And I think I’ll keep that advantage to myself for now. All you need to know is that Winnie is very important to me.”

"If that was the case, why is this the first time I have ever heard your name?" At least the first time he could be bothered to remember it.

He removed his sunglasses and moved closer to the former Slytherin. He took a breath, knowing one thing for certain he was not dumb enough to strike him in this public arena and if he was he would only achieve the glowering disproval of both Winnie and whatever staff was present. So he was unflinching, this was a situation where Marshall could not do a damned thing to him. ”And you are not. If one half of this equation doesn’t act like it should, then I think you’ll find the result much different than what you expect.”

The problem with getting this close is the fact that Mathias is shameless. He would place a hand on the small of his back and another near his shoulder blades in an attempt to draw him closer. The scent of his breath and flesh, the feel of his hot air. He could have gone in for a kiss, he wanted the boy to thin he was - to assail his masculinity, to set him off-balance and to of course diminish his resolve without ever throwing a punch. But no, simply an embrace he could struggle to fight his way out of against the teen's meager brawn. His strength was not in his feeble body, perhaps that was why he had gravitated towards a brute of a young woman. No, the point was the disorientation and the struggle, the insult and disgust.

If held, just for a moment so Marshall could utter his threat, he would let his lips brush against an earlobe as he made a similarly threatening reply. "Don't play with me sunglasses, you might make Winnie cry." If Marshall struggled to escape before he said anything or never let Pride touch him in some superhuman display of insight, he would simply let out a laugh.

His roommate was gorging himself on snacks. Hopefully his mouth was too full to share any of the teen's secrets. "No, never met him before today. I think he is stalking my girlfriend tho," he admitted out loud. He did not care who heard it, he knew how to play this game. To claim that whatever he and Winnie had was primarily physical to rile Marshall but to also distort Hiro's perception of the matter. He had rightfully identified actual sentiment as awful a truth as that was, but he had also witnessed how dismissive he was. This would simply reinforce an important narrative as the meddlesome youth likely interjected the 'truth' as he saw it. "Not sure what house he is from..." he sniffed the air as if it would give him some sort of inclination. "Ravenclaw maybe?" He picked the name hardly at random, Hiro was allegedly her friend and might know her house. A stalker in her house was even a greater concern for this filth stain he would soon ruin.