Ravenclaw v Gryffindor [Quidditch Spectators] Jan 2022

open to interactions. If @Simon Kincaid notices her then interacting with him too.

In spite of the cold, Nicholas McCowan’s face was undoubtedly hot. A fierce blush coloured his usually ivory skin to a shade of vibrant ruby. The expression was hidden somewhat by the equally vermillion scarf that hid the lower half of his face. Hiding from the cold was a more than adequate way to disguise that he was hiding from embarrassment. Donned in Gryffindor red, it was clear that he was present to support his house, in much the same way that so many of his housemates had turned out the week prior to support his own endeavours upon a broom. Yet, it was not this factor that turned his cheeks red. No that was solely the domain of the sign that he held in his right hand. A hand that was entirely sweaty with nerves.

It was a hastily constructed thing, nothing too fancy nor artistic. No, its quality was entirely workmanlike, the product of a boy who was more comfortable in dirt than close to anything resembling a paintbrush. Yet, it was proof enough of a series of feelings that he continued to deny no matter how much he seemed to act on them. The justification of the day was merely that he was repaying her earlier cheering. A sign for a sign, that was all. There was nothing more to it.

Besides, he was here to cheer on his own house in any event, provision of cheering for the girl was merely a convenient side-effect.

So, Nicholas entered the stands, overseeing the approach of the two teams.

He cleared his throat for a moment before cheering loudly, “C'mon, Gryffindor!” The words blending into almost a sole syllable.

With that done, he muttered something under his breath and raised the sign.

“Oi, Ranvier!” He called to the girl from her place on the bench, the sign held in a way that hopefully on she could see it. Of course, there was no way to stop anyone else near her from making out the words.

Good luck, he mouthed.

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Aurora Ranvier
Open to Interactions

Quidditch! This was Simon’s first time going to a game, well at least one that he’d remember. His parents took him to one once, when he was 4, but he didn’t remember a lot of it except when they threw up carrots all over their dad, which his dad made disappear with a wave of his wand.
Now, six years later, he was sitting in the stands of another Quidditch game. He was wearing his gold and red scarf in support of his House, though unlike the others here, he wasn't cheering for a specific person. They were holding a bag full of candies- some from the wizarding world, some were from the Muggle world that his mom had sent him that were only a few days old. He saw the players lined up on either side of the field, and he sort of wished he was there with them- riding brooms and participating with the other players.
He stuffed some M&M’s into his mouth and kept his eyes on his team. “Go Gryffindors!” he yelled with a mouthful of M&Ms, holding up his bag of candies. “Show them what you’re made of!” He plopped down and felt an M&M go down the wrong tube and began to choke.
After a few seconds, he managed to hack up the M&M, and it bounced on the ground. Embarrassed, he took a deep breath and said weakly, “Go team, go!”