Quidditch Hogwarts vs Durmstrang - Summer 2023

Nightmare. Nightmare felt like the right word to describe this match. After one round, call after call was made. 1, 2, 3, 4 maybe players knocked from the sky and all they could do was be told to do a penalty lap. Annie's blood boiled. The brunette's grip tightened around the broom handle, the temptation to kick off the ground and knock their teeth in sounded quite tempting. Sucking in a sharp breath, she felt the bench lighten from beside her. It was all but her and another younger second string on the bench now.

"What a shit show. But we aren't out of it yet." Annie merely hissed under her breath. Win or loose, someone was going to get some sense knocked into them. And not by a bludger either. Annie could pack quite a punch behind her fist. The team was like a family to her. 5 long years, with a small gap if time between it, but they welcomed her back with loving arms. If anything happened to them, they'd face her wrath. They were not going to all end up in the hospital wing again, if she could help it.

Reducio

Position: Second String Keeper
Stats without broom:
Stamina | 15
Evasion | 13
Strength | 10
Wisdom | 7
Arcane Power | 8
Accuracy | 16
Stats with broom:
Stamina | 18
Evasion | 16
Strength | 13
Wisdom | 10
Arcane Power | 11
Accuracy | 19
Abilities: Obnoxiously Strong | Blindvision | Perfectionist | Savior
Broom: Silver Arrow [+3 all stats]
Action: Benched, As Strategized

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx	xx	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx	xx	xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Interacts. @Clark Baird ═══════════════════	xx	EN #664d00, GR, RU #A57865 29/07/2023 | In uniform [x] ═══════════════════	xx	Mentions. @Durmstrang Team ═══════════════════

Wind in his hair, Lysander recalled the strategy in his head. Of course cheating counted as such, especially when it amounted to nothing but a slap on the wrist. While his teammates all singled out a particular threat, sweet Greta most impressive of all, #13 would intercept Hufflepuff’s Hawkshead formation with an outstretched arm, his fingers itching to tug the closest and rather fun-sized opponent by the scruff of his uniform. “Sorry, kid!” he called out over the crowd’s rumble. “It’s nothing personal.” And perhaps with a more-aggressive-than-necessary push, the boy tipped over to solid ground below. In Lysander’s eyes, he was teaching him a valuable lesson; toughening a boy up, God willing.

BROOM: Oakshaft 79 | Three chosen skills under reducio STATS: STA 13; EVA 22 26; STR 14; WIS 5; ARC 0; ACC 17 21 ABILITIES: Evasive Maneuvers I, Evasive Maneuvers II, Charmer, Fearless

ACTIONS: N/A

ROUND 2

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

Lysander, Margarethe, Madhup and Johannes are all completing their penalty laps. Atlas is sharing an action with Quinn. Roxette is going for the quaffle uncontested so she scores 50 points for Hogwarts.

With all of Durmstrang's chasers and keeper making their way round the pitch on their penalty lap, it was only one of the newcomers to the pitch, Roxette for the Hogwarts team, that would go for the quaffle. She'd score goal after goal, adding a nice amount of points to Hogwarts' lead.

Beaters:

Reducio

Quinn did not post so they don't take their action. Initiative: Romeo (77), Avery (46), Valentin (21)

Romeo is bludgering Roxette.
CP for Romeo (10): [d10: 9]
Romeo acc: [d20: 20] + 25 = 45
Roxette eva: [d20: 7] + 6 = 13
Romeo hits Roxette for [75*20=1500 1500*2=3000] damage!
Roxette is KOB!

Romeo is ricocheting to Avery.
CP for Romeo (10): [d10: 7]
Romeo acc: [d20: 18] + 25 = 43
Avery eva: [d20: 12] + 12 = 24
Romeo hits Avery for [75*20=1500] damage!
Avery is KOB!

Avery is bludgering Romeo.
Avery acc: [d20: 14] + 14 = 28
Romeo eva: [d20: 10] + 8 = 18
Avery hits Romeo for [75*12=900] damage!
Romeo is KOB!

Valentin is blatching Quinn/Atlas.
CP for Valentin (10): [d10: 9]
Valentin acc: [d20: 13] + 18 = 31
Quinn/Atlas eva: [d20: 7] + 14 = 21
Quinn/Atlas is KOB!
Valentin gets a penalty lap!

But Durmstrang's violence wouldn't end any time son, it seemed. Romeo wouldn't let the new chaser be left alone, swiftly aiming his most powerful bludger yet in her direction, sending her easily tumbling from her broom. The bludger then would redirect to Avery, who'd also go down from the powerful hit. But just in time, she'd retaliate with her own bludger, sending the Durmstrang beater off his owm broom and falling to the ground. Valentin would also have abandoned his search for the snitch for a second to quickly blatch Quinn and Atlas, to success, and watch them both fall.

"Valentin! Penalty lap!" The referee would award the seeker, sending him to join his friends.

Seekers:

Reducio

Find DC is now 15+4=19 for both teams.

Daphne is searching for the snitch.
Daphne wis: [d20: 20] + 4 = 24
Daphne finds the snitch and skips the chase phase (crit success)!

However, Daphne, having newly taken the sky, would hover amongst all the action, focused on finding the gold. And her focus would seem to pay off, as she spotted the snitch with ease and began to dart towards it.

Outcome

Roxette scores 50 points for Hogwarts.
Roxette is reduced to 0HP and is KOB.
Avery is reduced to 0HP and is KOB.
Romeo is reduced to 0HP and is KOB.
Quinn and Atlas are KOB from a blatch.
Valentin must complete a penalty lap next round.
Daphne finds the snitch.

Current Score
100 vs 0

Submitted Plays

Health and Post Tracker

==

Writing as approved Durmstrang iNPC Vyacheslav Aleksandrovich Preobrazhensky Speech in italics means Slava is speaking in Russian

Slava’s focus on the game was interrupted by a voice beside him. "Do you presume they will be willing to give us a time to shine? Right now they seem to want all the glory for themselves, what with them ruling the sky with us warming these benches one could hardly call comfortable," Nichlas said. “They’re the first string for a reason. You’ve only been here for a day. Get over it.” His tone was neutral and lacking hostility despite his words as he responded without looking, his eyes following his teammates in the sky. Barely a few seconds passed before Nichlas interrupted him again—damn, he was more talkative than Slava right now—this time trying to get Slava to tell him everything about their teammates and what made them tick. He had to look at the other for that request, raising his eyebrows and fixing the boy who still made him particularly uncomfortable with a disbelieving stare. “Are you kidding? Find out for yourself. If you stick it out on the team longer than today, maybe you’ll see naturally.” He shook his head.

It barely took a second for his eyes and attention to return to the game, quickly ignoring the boy beside him as best he could. The game was more important. Watching and supporting his teammates was more important. A smile soon grew and refused to leave his face as he watched the absolute destruction—even Valentin veered further from his typical seeking as he blatched the giant boy and the girl he was riding with. The only problem was that Romeo was falling from the sky along with the Hogwarts kids, their co-captain defeated for this match. But he hadn’t gone down without a fight—sending two people to the ground just this round before he was attacked, and one before that. Three people knocked out by Romeo in such short a time span—it made sense why Hogwarts would want to take him out. Nevertheless, it was a shame to lose him.

Slava turned to Arjan. “Hey, looks like you’re up after all.” He nudged him. There was a silent “cheer up” in that—Arjan’s annoyance at being moved to second-string shouldn’t be quite as strong anymore, now that he got to play. “Go cause some chaos.” Slava grinned widely in encouragement. Whatever Arjan said about him, Slava considered him a friend and Arjan would simply have to deal with it. Luckily for the older boy, though, he was now escaping to the skies while Slava was firmly stuck here, so there would be no more risk of Slava pestering him. For now.

Alaric could only watch in horror as Romeo went plummeting to the floor. Previous excitement at the fact he had managed to knock of two filthy Hogwarts players vanished as the young German boy witnessed Romeo, an older boy he had started to awe at, fall of his broom. The bludger from the same kotzbrocken lump of puke went Romeo’s way.

"Ромео!" Romeo shouted Alaric his eyes wide. He looked at Valentin, the seeker Alaric was still defending. He was becoming a human shield at this point! Alaric didn’t really mind; it was Valentin after all and they needed their seeker! However, he was getting antsy. If this was punishment for his behaviour yesterday to that Vyacheslav then Alaric has to applaud his punishers because they did a superb job. He wanted to be in on the action! Not stuck being a baby chick following his mama. Although Alaric holds onto the fact he has, in fact, protected his captain and thus doesn’t feel totally useless.

Alaric cast a look down to where the stands are. Any second now #11 would be up here and in Ro’s place. He turned his attention back to the game and carried on following Valentin, the wind feeling nice in his face as they zwooshed about. Alaric hung back a tad when Valentin got to two of the Hogwarts players and watched as he committed a foul: blatching. "Молодец, капитан," Well done, Captain he complimented after the ref’s call of penalty lap.

Hex: #465c67 | English | Russian

Nichlas gave a small frown at the response he had gotten, before it slowly warped into a smile and not one of the nice ones, he shared those quite rarely nowadays. Well at least to those he didn't know and seemed to try to get on his nerves. "That is what I get for trying to be nice I guess, you make it seem so easy so I thought I could try the same," Nichlas responded to the jab. Truth to be told Slava, the boy he was sitting next to, had been quite the curious case. Nichlas had known of nothing but his reputation upon hearing his name a day ago, thus he had been fairly surprised at how reality defied those expectations. And so he had done what any curious person would do, a bit of research. With enough influence and wits it was easy to find out almost everything that revolved around rumors about someone with almost little effort.

"As I said, I haven't gotten around to do my homework on everyone, you however, I feel quite proud with what I achieved in such little time. Shall I give you a run down of what I came across?", he gave one of his already well known smiles, the shark kind. "Vyacheslav Aleksandrovich Preobrazhensky, better known as Slava. Impulsive, reckless and known for running your mouth. A maker of questionable decisions and either fool or carefree enough to get caught causing trouble at quite a frequent rate. A prankster of sorts, if you would call it that and the brother of Maksim Preobrazhensky who is older than you by a year." Nichlas gave a slight tilt of his head as he regarded Slava almost thoughtfully. "You see after our little get together I have done some more digging, information is easy to find for those who seek it, after all. Then again you aren’t that known for excelling in classes or I would have heard of you before. Am I forgetting something?" This was the core information probably almost anyone who had heard of Slava would already know of. But Nichlas was a fool if that was all he could offer for this little rundown of information. "I feel like it is only fair to share what little I know. After all you seemed all too eager to make me piece this puzzle together by myself and I do like a challenge. However I would have assumed you to be far more quickly to help out someone asking your assistance as kindly as I did."

"Now let’s not be rude and get back to you as a person. You, Slava, like to talk too much and are overly affectionate, yet you look like no distance between us is far enough to stop your discomfort. Let’s not forget that habit of yours to give almost everyone and I mean everyone you meet a nickname. I think I am safe from that due to your apparent dislike, but don’t you dare give me one. I don’t do nicknames. Just for reference in case, it would after all be in our best interest to get along as we are a team now after all!", Nichlas leaned in and almost nonchalantly let his arm rest on Slava's shoulder closest to him. If he truly tried to, it could be easily shrugged off. "So what do you say, friends?" He was not usually one to talk this much, that is unless he had to prove a point. He was not quite sure what exactly he tried to prove but something about this Slava kid struck him as unusual. He would blame the fact that the reputation didn't match the person, at all and so Nichlas felt justified in his endeavor to prove this point and almost dissect Slava based on the information that had been freely given or been accessible to him with other means. People did like to talk and there was never too little gossip. "Speaking of teams, let’s breach the topic of your career at Durmstrang thus far. Your connections with Valentin seemed to have gotten you a spot on the Hexwizard waitlist, though I assume your brutish nature made that decision quite easy on him. What I find quite curious is that you have been a Beater for two years, were absent for a year and then made a miraculous return as a benched Keeper. I heard rumors that perhaps that decision was not even up to you. What was it that got you removed, hm? Clearly it could not have ‘anything’ to do with your talent or capabilities. You see I’ve seen some of the Quidditch matches and your last go against this team didn’t quite go your way and you haven’t quite shown success at actually finishing off your opponents. Your second game you lost again, worse yet, you haven’t even put a dent into a single of your opponents and instead required saving. Another loss. So excuse me if I don’t trust your losing record against this school and require the additional information you might have. So where were we, you were gonna tell me about our team, right?" This was perhaps the one thing that was mostly based on gossip, but even if it was just that, gossip, Nichlas was believed that a bit of truth must have sparked such rumors and of course Nichlas had watched the games and records of games from the past were quite easy to find. He had originally done so in pursuit of understanding their opponents better, however learning more about the wondrous Slava had been like a small bonus, especially now that he could use such information as leverage. Sadly the knowledge he gained of Slava was pretty surface level and none of it was in any way worthwhile. It had been quite disappointing to hear that there was not more talk about those explosive manners and mood swings.

"You see you have made me curious. You and your sunshine and glitter reputation precedes you, yet in private you have shown quite some different colors. Now that has left quite the impression. Perhaps you are more rainbow than you would like to admit?" Nichlas ended his little list of observations and gave the other boy an almost smile. "Of course these are all rumors and likely to be just that. However, I do look forward to getting to know you better, now that we are likely to spend a lot of time together due to practice and warming benches side by side… Slava," he gave a wink and shifted his attention back to the game. Impressively he had managed to not sound rushed or strained during his monologue, it had been nicely paced enough. This was possibly the most Slava would ever hear from Nichlas said in one speech or within the duration of an entire conversation as Nichlas wasn't quite that well known for long debates and conversations. He fashioned himself an observer and too important to distract himself with a bunch of kids. He found himself able to remain calm and collected while also quite lethal and assumed no danger from anyone else, as of course he was what could be considered most dangerous. And a shark did not fear its dinner. Not wanting to get too the distracted, he did pay attention to the game more, however from the corners of his eyes he was ready to witness any sort of reaction the other kid had to offer. During his little speech it seemed the game had moved on quickly. It was quite the sad sight to see all but three of the Hogwarts student left in the air. Romeo had managed to catch a bludger involuntarily and had fond himself without anyone willing to dive after him at such a dangerous time in the game. There was a lot at stakes right now and Nichlas' lips pressed together in a tight line as he watched the game with an inner storm brewing. Arjan would have to join them in the air now and based on the boy's anger Nichlas was sure that he wouldn't make it any easier on the bee colored sports team. They better not mess this up after victory was practically theirs already.

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

Tesla's palms were slick with sweat and rain where she clenched her broom in one hand, standing on top of the bench. She was too nervous to sit anymore, not with so few team members left and only her and Annie on the bench for this round of play. Hufflepuff was ahead 100 points, but that didn't feel like a victory as Roxette was knocked from her broom after some great plays. That marked all their chasers down.

She'd heard someone yell back at her cheers for her team before and caught a glance of who she thought was the team's second beaterAlaric. Looking at the team lineup he'd been the youngest, and while she couldn't quite tell from this distance, the voice sounded younger than many of his teammates. She considered redoubling her cheers and shouting something back in his direction, but her attention was drawn back to the field.

More blatching, more cheating. Thankfully it had all been caught and penalty laps issued, but that did little to sooth Tes. She near screamed with victory as Avery scored a well-earned hit against the opponent's heavy-hitting beater, taking revenge for Roxette, but it quickly turned into a gasp when her dormmate was knocked from her own broom moments later, plummeting to the ground. Of course she cared for all her teammates, but Avery was the only one she'd really known before joining the team. The two had spent all year together in their dorm alongside Isadora, and seeing someone Tes considered a friend fall from the sky had her stomach plummeting alongside her. With Quinn and Avery down, it was just Tes left as beater.

She offered a fist bump to Annie, grinning in the older student's direction. "Let's go have some fun! Go out strong!" Tes mounted her broom, taking a moment to tighten the bright yellow bandana holding her hair back, adjusting the matching Hufflepuff black bandana on her right wrist. She was all yellow and sunshine, and even with her nerves and anger lingering as she lifted into the air, she caught sight of a distant rainbow and stopped. She turned her head towards a meager beam of sunshine poking through the clouds and washing over her. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she smiled softly. The sun, the rain, the slight breeze. All of it made for a moment of serenity and weightlessness as she breathed deeply. This was why she did it, for the love of flying and the joy of teamwork. Not to win, not to hurt people with her farm-toned strength, not even to hear the cheering from the stands. No, it was all for this moment where there was nothing but her and the sky and the sounds of life and energy around her.

Her eyes lit up with a wide grin, laughing joyfully. Her energy would seem out of place on a pitch with only three players left and the dreary weather around her, but all she could think about was finally getting to fly in her first ever Quidditch game. Turning to her opposing beater, so far the only person to not commit a foul or be knocked off their broom from the other teamAlaric, she waved happily and yelled, "I think Avery did plenty well! That was a really impressive hit from your beater too, though! Could do without all the fouls from y'all, but at least the weather is nice!" Yelling across a pitch wasn't all that conducive for conversation, and Tes still had some sense of loyalty to her team and their unfortunate injuries, so she didn't say anything else nice about the other team's members. By her friendly standards, it was practically an insult.

She wasn't afraid of the outcome of the game now she was in the air. What was the worst that could happen? Hufflepuff didn't win? Oh well, there was always next time! She got knocked off her broom? Could it really hurt that much more than falling off a horse? Probably not, and she could always just get right back on later. She was ready to go, and once again a joyful laugh echoed across the field as she caught sight of the rainbow in the distance and readied herself to play.

⭑☾☀☽⭑
Action: As strategized
Wordcount:50+ Color=#7D6608
Mentioning:@Lucian Mornstern as Alaric, @Avery McCall, @Isadora Everridge (referenced as a dormmate), @Annie Morgan, and @Roxette Hartmore
❁❀ Tesla "Tes" Stone❀❁ Hufflepuff Beater ^꧁Teamwork makes the Dream Work^꧂
Stats: Stamina: 6 | Evasion: 5 | Strength: 9 | Wisdom: 4 | ArcPower: 4 |Accuracy: 7
Broom: Nimbus 1500 | Beater: if you hit an opponent with a bludger the bludger will then ricochet off that user and target a second opponent of choice (must be declared)
Abilities: Werewolf and Broken Broomshaft
Trunk

It was all fun and games, wasn’t it? They’d all showed up for a heart-thumping quidditch match, knowingly or unknowingly endangering their very lives as an acceptable risk. Although numerous safety improvements over the course of history reduced the likelihood of dying, Valentin knew that quidditch had a bodycount. Freak accidents could kill no matter how safely anyone tried to live out their lives, but at what point was it better to accept the possibility of their own destruction if it meant probably enjoying life more? Should Val’s mother have not become a rock star when a freak attack of a fan would later end her life? How could one even draw the line about the value of one’s own life, let alone those of people under their care?

Hell-Chaser Val made a habit of taking on risks, not only on behalf of others when necessary, but also by encouraging his team mates to put themselves in harm’s way in the name of “fun” and “personal growth.” Before the match had even begun, the captain gave a speech about Amina’s unexpected devastation and how Val was entrusting his life into the hands of his team and the medics. Surely the team’s most obsessive strategists knew that at any moment, something extremely unlikely could end any or all of them. So… why did Valentin feel like death when Romeo toppled from his broom?

Everything had seemed to be going according to plan. Were it not for the adrenaline voltage making his every muscle fiber hum, the seeker would have found it quaint. Most of the team was doing their victory lap, racing each other like carefree kids, and for this brief moment, Valentin felt at peace with his life. Looking to the stands to first find two immaculate green eyes flickering, Val turned next towards the full bench holding the rest of his lively, beloved forces. It seemed like even the newest recruit, Nichlas, was integrating after only one day, finding old-guard Slava terribly interesting. Val cracked a crooked grin, thinking they looked pretty cute together – the bubbly glitter bomb and the shark with razor teeth and an even sharper mind. Their team had grown strong and capable after all their hard-won investments, even with new talent joining at the last possible second, so the likelihood of anything truly terrible happening became vanishingly small. Listening to his friends' faint banter as Madhup, Greta, and Johannes raced each other, Val’s tranquility combined with the comfort of flying alongside his team’s finest beater, his co-captain, Romeo. Even Alaric was still loyally defending Valentin, and feeling the German’s presence close by lessened the weight of previous abandonments that still clung to the seeker like tar.

In the history of all his days studying and practicing quidditch, Valentin had never heard a finer crack of a beater’s bat than Romeo’s now [Nat 20+25 = 45 ACC]. So at ease was Valentin that he decided to slow down for just a moment to watch as #4 finished the job left over from last round and bagged a new player in one, smooth stroke. The one-two-three smash of that old maple bat came sweetly in the music whirling through Val’s mind with punctuated rhythm spelling the end for Roxette and Avery. Valya knew #4’s failure to down Avery the first time came out of the greater crisis overtaking Romeo’s spirit, understanding the Italian better than anyone else from Durmstrang, and so satisfaction filled the captain now as a mind-meltingly powerful blow resolved Romeo’s previous miss [3000 damage dealt].

Happy, Valentin turned back to his own challenge. Truly it was to be a pleasant change to become the predator instead of the prey this round, coordinating attack timing with Val’s long-time sparring partner to assure defense through economical offense. Filled with relaxation at the joy of being able to play quidditch with such a fine team, earned through years of blood sweat and tears, Valentin’s focus was unmarred as he stooped into a sudden dive. The seeker’s crystal-clear vision made it simple to finally up-end Quinn and his driver, just as he’d mentally rehearsed. In a symbolic move to confront the past head-on instead of running away, the frost captain finally dismantled Quinn’s haunting memory… only to gain a new nightmare.

Falling to her doom though Avery was, she was still functional enough to loose a bludger at Romeo with just enough force to knock him unconscious. As the Italian’s body twisted in its fall through the air, russet hair glinting with a stray beam of light through the overcast sky, Valentin knew he had strayed too far to save his co-captain. Shooting a glance over at Lysander, it was clear that not even the fancy sky dancer could make it in time from his place in the penalty loop.

It was a calculated risk. Wasn’t this all just a possibility accepted well in advance? All Valentin could do was watch as Romeo tumbled to the earth with no one to save him. Of course the match healers were swarming over the fallen beater immediately, not unlike how the medics buzzed around Valentin’s mother just before they failed to save her from death. Romeo couldn’t – he wasn’t dead, right? They had both fallen countless times together. Even on the first day they met Amina, Romeo had completely knocked the girl out with one hit. Incapacitation and devastating injury were an everyday part of their sporting lives that started on day one of joining the team, if not before, and they were all as acquainted with their violent rituals as the storms of their blustery northern home. Yet, the music in Val’s mind fell silent. Without cognizant explanation, in his heart Valentin knew that in that moment, a death knell rang.

Shaking his head in desperate swings, Valentin didn’t let himself just believe it. Of course the seeker’s keen eyes could see it all clearly, including the continued rise and fall of Romeo’s chest as his life prevailed over gravity’s decimation. Valya could swear he even felt Romeo’s breath spinning the winds between them, and all the motions of the medics spoke that this was just another game with just another fallen beater. Yet, in Valentin’s heart, he knew. Romeo’s body lived, and within it somewhere so did his mind, but Valya had failed to save him. They had decided on an acceptable risk, and this was the price they’d pay for it. With a feverish rubbing at his eyes with the back of his arm, Valentin’s mouth opened. It was just another fall. It was just another fall. It was just another fall… So why didn’t it feel like it? Why was this so different from all the other times they’d meet each other in the hospital?

Looking over at Alaric, Valentin’s face was baffled. They had all talked this over as a team, and Romeo had a hand in their strategies, too. The possibility of Romeo’s fall was said to be an acceptable loss. But why? Why did it all feel so wrong now, when everything had felt so secure only moments ago? Looking over at Johannes, then back into the stands at Amina, and then Slava, then Nichlas, Valentin’s eyes begged them for the answer. The seeker’s heart thumped wilder than a caged bird in his chest, so hard it seemed to be knocking against his very ribs, and a vision flashed through Valentin’s mind of the second time he’d died.

Too slow. Romeo had been too slow, fighting the raging thunderstorm as he tried to speed the broken falcon that was Valya back to safety. Valentin’s heart gave out one dire April morning on the back of that Moontrimmer, sending him into a struggle against the Reaper with only a borrowed reason to live sharp enough to turn him back. When the lightning came the second time for Valentin, the hand of Stribog restarted his heart after it had claimed him on its first pass, for at that moment Valya wielded a lightning rod blade. It took some months for Valentin to muster the resolve to ask Romeo if he wanted the sword back – after all, he had only presumed himself welcome after the word, “never.” In just one little word, Valentin read so much into what they could become. Romeo swore to never let him go on that day, but how? Not letting Val die when there was something that could yet be done? Not letting the seeker out of his life again? The words seemed to take on special warmth once Romeo returned to the team, bathed clean by the blood ritual of eating away the beater’s pain. Since then, like a wayward kid, Valya’s spirit clung to the hope that Romeo’s “never” was more powerful than just a healer’s everyday vow.

In the end, after his confession fell flat on its face, Valentin had to return the sword he’d once used to repel the Reaper. Romeo didn’t want him. Val had interpreted the words wrong. Time and time again rebuffed, Valentin found that he had misunderstood. If ever Romeo looked at the seeker with any gleam of love, surely it was from the hypnosis of Valentin’s charming amethyst eyes, if not another simple misinterpretation. This much came clear to Valya one last time when they met again across the blunt side of a bottle earlier that month – Romeo’s heart held shame and embarrassment after what Piérre and Valentin had done to him. The unconditional love Valentin had always wanted to see in Rome’s cerulean eyes lay in tatters at the feet of intolerance. From that moment, Valentin only felt shame as well for his efforts towards his co-captain. He was no better than Piérre himself, Val thought, or actually worse because he had gone about drawing Romeo in so obliviously. Childishly. How could he, the captain, the champion, the white king immortal, stoop so low as to evoke such revilement in Romeo’s eyes, spinning his own wishful delusions into a tawdry web?

Whatever sound Romeo made when he struck the earth, Valentin didn’t hear it. At that moment, the Turk was as good as deaf. Valentin had failed him, failed Romeo. The only thing he could hope to do to keep his returned promise to Beater #4 was to try to repay him the same way Romeo had surely intended the comment – to never let go – never letting him die, either. Yet, there Romeo’s limp body lay on a stretcher, creeping away on the backs of the medics. It was not Valentin’s job to heal him now, and surely it was better for Romeo to let the professionals have their space. Still, as his co-captain disappeared from Valentin’s sight, the pall of death overtook his heart with deep mourning. His face as white as his mother’s burial kafan, the seeker stared in shock at the black hole that Romeo’s body disappeared into.

Anyone looking at the captain now on their way back from their victory lap would see it written all over Val’s face – he had pushed the limit, banking on Romeo being fast enough, and now there was simply pain. They’d had their chance to “call it good,” giving up quidditch and sparing themselves any more shattered bones and broken hearts. Riding the edge of a slow burn romance, Romeo had not only let go, but he’d let go countless times when the hopeless seeker couldn’t. Valentin endured it every time, calling himself a fool but persisting, until this moment of Romeo’s fall when he finally came to accept the signals of his long denied fear – Romeo did not truly love him.

That day in camp, everything could have changed, if only we were meant to be. We could have had a happy ending and called it quits, living out our lives quietly without taking much risk ever again… but he didn’t really want me. My mother said that to have a shooting star fulfill your wish, you must grab on with all your heart and all your might… but every time, he let me go. Now, I understand. Now, it is time for me to let go so that Romeo can be free. It was wrong for me to ever set my cursed eyes upon him. I did this to him. I made him re-join the team. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t be in a million pieces now. I took him as an acceptable risk, and now… all I’ve done is break him. I don’t deserve to be captain. I don’t deserve to be champion. My power to influence others is destructive, and I’ve become what I hate the most. The only way to make any amends… is to finally let him go. If I don’t, then one day I will accidentally kill him for good. I might kill anyone on my team, leading them into violence as I do every day. My lust for thrills is a contagion, and anyone I encourage to join me is at risk. I remember Charles’s words, even as they feel as distant as the annals of history. He said, ‘Hell, alone there's only a chance to get injured. There are multiple that would go on the thrills with you, including me so promise you won't go alone again! Frost!’ Where are you now, #3? Why didn’t I stop you then, before the darkness took you? I almost killed both you and Romeo with that stunt I pulled with the thunder cloud. Why didn’t I stop Misha, and Yefim, before they fell dark too? I never learned, never stopped being an ignorant child believing us immortal. I tried to convince Mikael but I was really still trying to convince myself, too. Valentin closed his eyes as he held himself with long, weeping willow arms, unable to bear a moment more of playing the game.

The burn scar still melts his face, Valik, why didn’t you stop then when he was helpless under your power? Every one of my people might die because of me. I’m cursed. I am a calamity, like they told me when I was still small enough that people would bravely tell me the truth. I bring ruin to the ones I wish to make dreams come true for. Dark flowstar, blackest of hearts, people should not have met me. I saw it in Romeo’s eyes. He’s breaking, in his soul, and it’s my fault. I did this to him. He was my special soldier, my legionnaire, and now he is in pieces. It’s a wonder that samurai survived me. Toy soldiers… Toy soldiers… Unforgivable. I do not deserve this power, and I don’t know if anyone does. No, I don’t know if anyone ever did. This corruption knows no bounds, like the limitlessness of my greed. My beautiful team, how I love you all, and how I have wronged you under the guise of a game. It is no one’s place to decide what makes an acceptable risk, at least, no one but themselves alone.

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
All dialogue in Russian unless specified otherwise.
Broom: Silver Arrow (+3 to each stat)
Ency/Trunk: viewtopic.php?f=314&t=17006#p269554
Action: Doing as strategized.
Godmods between Romeo’s and Valentin’s characters are consensual throughout this and other threads

==

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

In the brief second of Nichlas’s silence, Slava glanced over at him and was met with a smile, but there was something so wrong about it. Smiles weren’t meant to be malicious. His muscles tensed without him realizing, his shoulders creeping up the slightest amount as he tried his hardest to focus on the game and not on the fact that that smile made him want to run far away from here. "That is what I get for trying to be nice I guess, you make it seem so easy so I thought I could try the same." Was that true? He felt a sudden rush of self-doubt—had Nichlas been trying to be nice and Slava was just rude in return? “It sounded like you were being rude about our teammates,” he responded defensively, but the other boy’s words had stolen some of Slava’s conviction.

"As I said, I haven't gotten around to do my homework on everyone, you however, I feel quite proud with what I achieved in such little time. Shall I give you a run down of what I came across?" Slava’s gaze slowly slid back to Nichlas, a feeling of dread being elicited by those words coupled with that predatory smile. It started off alright, with a basic assessment of his general behavior and tendencies. But when Nichlas mentioned Maksim, Slava felt a brief flash of some unidentifiable emotion—whether it was anger, apprehension, or something else, he wasn’t quite sure, but it certainly didn’t feel good. Maksim was not only Slava’s brother but also a built-in best friend, and to have someone like Nichlas state Max’s name while displeased with Slava felt like some sort of threat. He wouldn’t do anything to Maksim if Slava pushed too hard, would he? Would he? The fact that he didn’t have enough knowledge of whether Nichlas was cruel enough to do that bothered him, although Max was a capable enough duellist and could surely handle himself.

"Then again you aren’t that known for excelling in classes or I would have heard of you before." Rude. “If you think excelling in classes is the only thing worth hearing about, I pity how boring your life must be.” Slava looked back up at the game. If Nichlas was just going to comment on Slava’s grades, there was nothing he could say that the Russian hadn’t heard before. None of those insults could touch him anymore. But apparently, Nichlas wouldn’t end with his question of forgetting something, which had seemed like the natural ending to the basics. Surprisingly, Nichlas wanted to continue this. He commented that he would’ve assumed Slava to readily help him since he “kindly” asked his assistance. “Kindly,” Slava repeated, scoffing. He didn’t feel the need to say anything more. That was enough.

"Now let’s not be rude and get back to you as a person." Greeeat. Just what he wanted. (Not.) Nichlas started saying that Slava talked too much—Slava snorted, Nichlas was talking way more than he was—and was overly affectionate. But “too much” and “overly” were subjective notions, and if Nichlas thought Slava was “too much” then he simply didn’t have to interact with him. Nichlas was the one choosing to do this. All because Slava didn’t want to tell him his friends’ secrets? "… yet you look like no distance between us is far enough to stop your discomfort." Pretty much. Couldn’t have said it better myself, he thought. “Because it isn’t,” he muttered very, very quietly, glancing at the ground, kicking at the grass. Shuffling to the other side of the bench seemed particularly appealing right now, but he stayed put.

"Let’s not forget that habit of yours to give almost everyone and I mean everyone you meet a nickname. I think I am safe from that due to your apparent dislike, but don’t you dare give me one. I don’t do nicknames." Now that was something he could work with. Sounds like a challenge. That’s practically an invitation. His head turned to face Nichlas, a mischievous spark in his eyes that the other boy would see if he was paying close enough attention, the closest thing to a hint of joy that he had experienced during this interaction. He didn’t say anything, not for now, but it would be a new mission for him to come up with as many nicknames for Nichlas as possible. "… it would after all be in our best interest to get along as we are a team now after all!" “Haha… yeah,” he offered weakly, stiffening slightly as Nichlas put his arm on Slava’s shoulder. For someone who loved physical affection so much, it was new to feel uncomfortable because of it.

"So what do you say, friends?" Friends? Friends?? Seriously? “Sure,” he managed, forcing as much conviction into it as he could, trying to shove away the feeling of unease. It would be fine, right? Surely Nichlas would be nicer to be around if Slava just got to know him better? He always tried to give everyone a chance, and that same courtesy should apply to Nichlas. But why did he feel like he was walking further and further into the lion’s den with every second that passed? Well, regardless, he knew for sure that it would be extremely unwise to make an enemy out of this boy, so maybe he could manage a little bit of friendliness. Maybe. Why was Nichlas so interested in him anyway? If he hadn’t heard of Slava beforehand, didn’t that make him unimportant in Nichlas’s eyes? What did a boy like him want with Slava? No, wait, hadn’t he just agreed to give Nichlas a chance? Maybe he had innocent motives and genuinely wanted a friend.

And then Nichlas reignited Slava’s wary passive-aggression with comments about his “connections with Valentin”, “brutish nature”, his temporary absence from Quidditch, and the scores of his previous games. He really wasn’t making it easy for Slava to want to try to be nice. “Firstly, Valentin’s my friend, why wouldn’t he want me there?” He chose to ignore the comment about his supposed “brutish nature”—obviously, he didn’t believe himself to be brutish, but given that he was much better at sports and anything physical over spellcasting and academics, he didn’t really have a decent rebuttal at this time. But Nichlas’s analysis of his Quidditch experience was just completely wrong, and he felt a little irritated because of it, given that Quidditch was one of the things he was most passionate about.

“My mother wanted me to focus on academics until I got my grades up, so I left, thank you very much. Beater is my preferred position, but we were left with a vacancy for benched Keeper, so I stepped up, just wanting to be on the team again when I got the chance. And you’re just completely twisting what happened in the Quidditch matches—maybe you don’t remember, but I do because they were my games. I was defending Valentin, taking several bludgers for him, because he is our seeker and the most important player. I doubt you would do such a thing.” Willingly taking the blow of those iron balls at the age of 13 required a certain steely courage, loyalty, and trust. He wondered if Nichlas knew what loyalty and trust even meant. Perhaps he was a little snippy, but it was well-deserved, in his opinion. What was Nichlas trying to do? Just provoke him? What was the point?

"So where were we, you were gonna tell me about our team, right?" Slava shoved Nichlas’s arm off of him, pointedly shuffling over, although it wasn’t enough to be out of reach, given that the taller boy’s arms were longer than his own. This again after he had just said all of that? What the hell? Dream on. Slava fixed Nichlas with the most unamused, blank stare he had ever given. “Are you actually serious? Why the hell would I trust you with the secrets and intimate knowledge of my friends and teammates after you just spent the past few minutes picking at me?” His indignant frustration bolstered him, the fear fading for this moment while he was fueled with fire. “What’s your deal, anyway? What are you hoping to gain from this? If I’m such a bad Quidditch player, what could you learn from me? I’m not going to spill secrets, I know what it means to be loyal, so if that’s all you want me for then just stop talking now. We met yesterday, why are you suddenly so interested? What’s the point in finding all that out about me? I’m not a threat to you and I have nothing to hide, so talk for as long as you’re willing to waste your time, I don’t care.”

Okay, maybe he hadn’t meant for all that to come out in an outburst, but it was deserved. This boy was creepy and arrogant and annoying, and Slava didn’t have to just silently put up with this. He would still offer Nichlas the courtesy of not ruling him out entirely as a possible friend, but damn did he make that difficult. "You see you have made me curious. You and your sunshine and glitter reputation precedes you, yet in private you have shown quite some different colors. Now that has left quite the impression." Slava’s irritation slowly melted away, leaving slight curiosity in its wake. What if he just saw where this went? Nichlas’s motives may have been unclear to him, but what did Slava have to lose? People weren’t typically curious about him—he was an open book, and either people were disdainful of what they saw or welcomed it. What was there to be curious about? So what if Nichlas wanted to poke around in his mind a little? As Slava had said, he had nothing to hide.

"Perhaps you are more rainbow than you would like to admit?" Was he implying what Slava thought he was, or was it just based on his previous statement of colors? Rainbow was certainly an awfully specific choice. He searched Nichlas’s face, and, not knowing what to do with the complete lack of information that that gave him, settled on a cheeky, slightly childish response. “What, you interested?” He raised his eyebrows. Slava was not gay, at least not from what he had experienced so far. He had only had crushes on girls, only been with girls, and that made him straight, right? Just because he was currently wearing eyeliner, regularly painted his nails, and had discovered he liked dresses didn’t mean he was gay. He just didn’t always conform to the rigid standards of masculinity that society liked to set, and thus those types of people sticking to those standards tended to assume that boys who could enjoy typically feminine things were gay. Which just wasn’t true.

"However, I do look forward to getting to know you better, now that we are likely to spend a lot of time together due to practice and warming benches side by side… Slava." There was something both terrifying and promising about those words, repulsive and attractive. Nichlas’s general presence and the way he said things like that gave him chills, and he still would probably rather run in the opposite direction, but he couldn’t help the curiosity that had been sparked. After all, he had always enjoyed a thrill and the pull of danger. And that seemed to be what Nichlas was.