Date: 13 August, 2023
Location: Bergen, Norway

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide. Durmstrang Institute's

Romeo Giovanni Marchonné [6'7" | 199lbs]

"English." "Italiano. Italian." "Russian."

| Faint Scar on Left Eye & Mangled Right Ear | \ Fingerless Glove on Right Hand, Bite Scar on Forearm / | Lichtenberg Figure on Right Arm and Down Back |

Valentin Schnell
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

Slowly unwinding the scarf from around my head and puffing as I removed my flight goggles, I shivered as I rubbed my eyes to rid myself of the rings there that would have been present after wearing the tight-fitting eye protection for the nearly five hour flight that I had undertaken after utilizing a cupboard connection from London that had thrust me into Oslo Norway. However, as much as I had wanted to simply call that travel quits for the day, Oslo had not been my final destination. No, I had had to travel around 300km to Bergen as well. Quicker as it was than trying to take a bus or some level of cab to the location (because taking the roads no matter how fast would certainly result in some slowing of final time), it was a good deal colder thanks to windchill and the knowledge that in order to cloak my presence to Muggle eyes I had to travel at night. Nights that could drop down to 9 degrees C or lower even before factoring the windchill of a nearly 55km per hour flight on the ebony shaft of Valentin's antique Firebolt laden with myself and an expandable suitcase filled with about a few day's supply of clothes and a multi-week's worth of hygiene supply on it.

The entire flight had been a cold one, even despite the relatively 'cool' weather and with the precautions that I had taken to stave off the worst of potential hypothermia from flying high in the stratosphere and at top speed; a heavily lined black coat (my red cloak from Durmstrang, as warm as it was, would stick out against the skies), my long wool scarf that was wrapped tightly about my throat as much as it covered my mouth and nose, broom-racing goggles to block out as much wind as I could, long pants with some long underwear to offer a little more comfort and warmth, and sturdy winter boots. I carried no wand with me, indeed the only items of magic that I had on my being was the broom that I rode and the suitcase in which my clothes and personal items were being kept. In my left winter glove (my broken arm had only recently neared completion of its healing and now only had a remedial bruising to its name that would eventually fade away on its own) I had held a completely mundane compass that indicated that North was to the East of me, meaning that I was flying West, and only when I started to spot more and more of Bergen's city lights did I finally begin assessing my relative location in an attempt to locate Cielle's circus. In addition to wanting to pay her a visit before she left Durmstrang to attend her dance school, I also had some personal business to conduct thanks to a variety of context clues that I had swiftly discovered following my realization that a man by the name of Gitano Luca Vero of the Italian family Vero had a chance over that of 50% to either be someone related to me or be the one who had sired myself and my twin.

I ended up selecting a location on the outskirts of Muggle society to make my landing, a thicket of scrub-brush that would easily hide my silhouette and the preparations that I made immediately after touchdown that included but were not limited to my downgrading of the heavy winter clothing that I was wearing, retrieving a few Hot Hands hand warmers and subsequently shaking them up so that I could begin thawing out my frigid hands, trying to remember where I had put the non-perishable snack food in my trunk so that I could refuel, and then assessing where the hell I was in comparison to where I wanted to be. I had let Valentin know of my plans ahead of time via Kupalo, the faster of the twin owls. Kostroma was being cared for by Piérre in my absence and was no doubt 'enjoying' her time with his hellcat, Figaro. Summer camp and the Sárkány's quidditch performance had been a fortnight in the past against Team Hufflepuff; a thrilling matchup to be sure but one that faded when compared to the importance of why I had worried myself over travelling miles and miles to Norway to begin with. This was a sendoff to both a Horntail Horde member and a Quidditch member, after all, and Cielle (as much of a joker she was) was still a dear friend deserving of the courtesy.

Plus, this was an excuse for me to get out of the house and to try experiencing what it would be like to fend for myself and live on my own for a short period of time. It was good life experience, and it was a callback to my former experiences of time on the move. As nice as it was to have a place to go home to after everything was said and done, the smell of fresh air and the thrill of travel still appealed at least a little to me. It was good to be out in the great outdoors, especially when you were travelling with someone who was excellent company; Valentin Schnell, who had met up with me in Oslo literal moments after I had stumbled out of the cupboard there and had weathered the flight with me with his keen eyes and lightning fast maneuvering.

But alas, even though light was beginning to rise from the east, starting to shed light across the place of my landing and causing the first of a few morning birds to sing out with sleepiness as they awoke from their dark-time slumbers, it was bone-tiredness that I felt from managing that five hour flight in the darkness that would put an end to the travelling for the early morning light… light already... I had only started my flight after I was certain that the sun had set after 2300. It was likely sometime after 0300 in the morning... and that had included the fact that we had been racing top speed towards this location and not taking it slow in the slightest (thank you, Valentin...) With a nod to my comrade, I vocalized my intents. "I think that's enough travel for one 24 hour span. We should at least try to rest for a bit before the last leg."

From the trunk again I procured a heavy-duty sleeping bag, the same one that I had taken to using at Durmstrang when I started sleeping on the floor subsequent to discovering that I could no longer fit many of the beds that had been provided at the higher levels of the tower. Though it wasn't the height of luxury, it was functional and just warm enough; just the way that I liked it. Trying to take shelter by a few brushes that would protect from the worst of wind or potential precipitation, though the ground was a bit wet and cold (it had rained a bit during the flight) I really didn't care enough and in what felt to be less than five minutes I was out like a light.

The sun was a good deal brighter when I finally came to again, woken up mostly by the aforementioned light but also by the unignorable sounds of birdcall and song. My guess was that I had taken about a seven or eight hour siesta judging by how high the sun was in the skies overhead. If Valentin wasn't up by the time I got up, I would gently shake him to wake him up and then rifle around in my suitcase for some teriyaki flavored beef jerky that I knew was hiding somewhere in the bottom of the bag... oh, there it was!

After taking a handful for myself: "Hey Val! Catch!" Without waiting for him to respond the bag was already in the air and coming for him. Without paying attention to what happened afterwards [d20(20)+21 = 41 Critical], I continued to work on organizing everything and stowing my sleeping bag. "Just a little bit, Val. We still have a little way to go and please please please I don't want you to collapse on me, okay?" I requested of him gently as I stuffed the last bit of the bag back in the suitcase and then closed it up as best I could. Hopefully when we made it to the Jubilant Bazaar we would be able to fend for ourselves better, or maybe (kindness willing) maybe we could 'hitch a ride' with Cie's fam temporarily. They would be acting as our guardians for the briefness of our stay, after all.

"I'm not going to lie to you... I'm a little nervous." Who wouldn't be? After only a year and a half of tracking down clues thanks to personal research and private investigators who had had a larger reach than I could have possibly imagined, there was finally a viable lead that I could finally attempt to confirm and potentially meet. "I mean... I'm just... Imagine if everything turned out to be a disappointment now. Back to square one..." I couldn't help but envision all the bad things that could happen now that I had gotten so close. To come so far and then to potentially fall so far in such short order... it was a menacing thought. "But then again... it sure would be nice if everything I suspect is wrong. I'd like to be proven wrong about all of this, at least in the abandonment aspect." A level of positive thinking that befitted and was performed better by Piérre, there was to be no shadow of a doubt. I tried to finagle the Firebolt into the suitcase as best I could, having taken time to wrap the delicate twigs on its brush as best as possible to avoid ruining them despite their being crammed into a small space not intended for a broom. It was only temporary, after all...

And then the fact that even after everything, Valentin had still decided to tag along. Support, probably? Perhaps getting his satisfaction from all the work that he had done to help me get to this state to begin with, maybe. Well, I wasn't going to turn down the emotional support, anyways, and Cielle had just as much been a player on Valentin's team just as much as she had been on mine. We both had a level of relationship with the circus girl; only natural that we send her off together as well. "You really didn't have to come with... but even though I say that right now I'm pretty sure I would be a wreck if I tried to do this alone." Ultimately... it was good to have company, no matter the relationship.

Hell, maybe we could use this as a mini-vacation where neither of us got drugged by Amortentia by my brother. That would certainly be refreshing. Besides, this was a carnival. What kind of people would we be not to attend at least one performance of the Bazaar while we were in the area, friendships or mysteries or no? If we had worked so hard to get here and would have a similarly grueling trip back, why wouldn't we try to make the best of it while we were in transit?

Hefting the slightly-larger-than-a-briefcase suitcase, I let out a sigh. "What do you think of all of this, Valentin? Do you think something is there, or do you think maybe this has all been a wild goose chase all along?" I couldn't stop doubts from rising in my mind, but who knew (as I started to make my way out of the foliage in the hopes of sussing out the outline of the bazaar; surely it had to be somewhere nearby or perhaps we would find directions to it in the process), maybe Valentin had a better way of viewing the situation than I did...

Reducio

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 8 | Strength 17 Ω
Ω Accuracy 18 | Wisdom 10 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω
Ω Muggle Condition Ω

Amethyst eyes fluttered open, only to close again with a soft moan. Despite their night flight eating into his sleeping hours, Valya couldn’t deny the power of the sky’s light as it pulled him from the embrace of Morpheus… but it didn’t mean he had to crawl out of the warmth of his black tasseled Turkish sheet just yet. Although the coastal summer temperature was balmy compared to the winters of Durmstrang and continental Russia, the boy still felt cold. Val’s traditional enchanted travel sheet should have been warm enough by past standards, but on this Norwegian morning it felt like the earth was drawing more heat from his body than ever, leaving him cold. It was as if he was slowly becoming more serpentine and dependent on the heat from his environment with time, leaving Valentin wondering what was happening to him.

The frost captain’s hand curled around a refined lump of warm hinged gold laying over his heart. The seeker was particularly sensitive about his fingers taking on chill and losing even the finest degrees of mobility, but since the incident with the amortentia, Val had taken to enduring the caprices of the weather rather than wearing any of the countless elegant gloves and coordinated outfits Sergei pressed upon him. Instead, taking a page out of Mikael’s book, Valentin had begun wearing a simple rotation of turtlenecks and slim-fitting pants in various shades of black. Beneath Val’s downy mane of white hair was his only “pillow,” a balled-up cable-knit wool sweater. With another small, wistful sound escaping the bottom of his throat, Valentin rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with one of the sweater’s arms in a futile attempt to block out the daylight before snuggling back into his simple dark covering. The waft of ozone through the captain’s mental circuits warned of a coming rain, but based on the breathing sounds coming from Romeo’s direction, Valentin knew he still had a bit of time to cling to the coattails of his minimalist “bed.” A hot spot of chai would have been an ideal way to summon him from his tangled burrow, but the seeker opted instead to linger over daydreams of his favourite source of warmth.

By the time Romeo was up and moving about, tinges of sleep were just beginning to blur Val’s consciousness again. Yet, he was unwilling to move until lightly shaken. Certainly physical gestures were one of the best ways to coax Val into doing pretty much anything. Raising up to sitting, the seeker rubbed the sand from his eyes and blinked lazily. Only when a packet of jerky landed directly in the open hand on his lap did Valentin’s body decide it was time to really wake up.

“Oh, good aim,” Valentin murmured with a light smile. “Reminds me of that shot you made back at Hogwarts. Your accuracy has been so good lately.” Looking over the offering of muggle-style dried meat, Valentin blinked a few times trying to get himself to find it appetizing. Usually muggle offerings came with a certain exoticism Valentin found appealing, but this was still a far cry from Romeo’s home-cooked Italian dishes. It wasn’t the lack of luxury that was the problem, however. Really, all the food offered by Romeo seemed blander ever since last April, even if nothing in their preparation had changed. Still, Valentin didn’t want to disappoint his co-captain and so meekly began nibbling on the smallest piece nonetheless. By the time Romeo was done packing, Val had finished off the food and tucking his bedding back into his broom’s saddlebag. As he stood with Silver Arrow in hand, looking off into the horizon as he listened, Val’s face was as expressionless as a marble statue.

"I'm not going to lie to you... I'm a little nervous. I mean... I'm just... Imagine if everything turned out to be a disappointment now. Back to square one… But then again... it sure would be nice if everything I suspect is wrong. I'd like to be proven wrong about all of this, at least in the abandonment aspect."

“It’s going to turn out for the best, Romeva,” replied Valya, looking down at the Arrow and realizing he’d have to conceal it in order to enter an area where muggles might be present. “However this goes, finding out the truth is just better. It’s natural to be nervous about this, too. This whole thing is really important and we did a lot to make this possible. Who knows what revelations this will bring, and maybe things won’t turn out so bad. Stribog knows it’s about time you got some nice surprises in your life, but don’t fret. I’ll help you see things through no matter what happens. Even if your parents really did abandon you, I won’t. I’m just glad you still ask me for help.”

Tilting his head to the side and looking at Romeo’s suitcase, Val considered asking to put his stuff inside it too, but squinted and opted to remove his saddle bag to put the Arrow inside it instead. Romeo had enough things to deal with on such an important day.

"You really didn't have to come with... but even though I say that right now I'm pretty sure I would be a wreck if I tried to do this alone."

“You’re not alone in this. Even if you hadn’t helped me out in Germany, I would still be here now. It’s like I said, all you have to do is call on me.”

With a sigh, Romeo bore the weight of his suitcase facing the direction they would be going. "What do you think of all of this, Valentin? Do you think something is there, or do you think maybe this has all been a wild goose chase all along?" The seeker’s eyes glinted with a downward tilting grin at the – perhaps unintentional? – reference to Cielle, a.k.a. “Goose,” but then returned to their fixed gaze upon the horizon.

“I can feel it in my gut, Romeva. This is where we need to be; this is what we need to be doing right now. Anything else would only hold back the change that needs to happen. It’s okay that it’s intimidating. You didn’t go it alone and I’ll be here to carry some of the weight.” Shouldering his small leather bag, Val breathed in and released a long sigh. “I wish only to carry more of the burden than I do now. I’m really not doing enough.” After a single step forward Valentin paused, turning to Romeo to shoot him a warm smile. There was a hint of sadness to his eyes, but overall they glowed with greater peace than Romeo had seen since their first quidditch game in London.

“Come on, Romushka. It’s time to forge destiny with our own hands.” Valentin started forward to press out of the foliage towards the bazaar, keen eyes scanning the horizon for any and all possible threats or clues as to the whereabouts of their target.

Basic Stats: STA 8 - EVA 20 - STR 3 - WIS 17 - ARC 1 - ACC 15
Stats on Broom: 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
Godmods of Romeo’s and Valentin’s characters are consensual throughout this and other threads
Action: Moving forward and doing a perception check for anything Git-related

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide. Durmstrang Institute's

Romeo Giovanni Marchonné [6'7" | 199lbs]

"English." "Italiano. Italian." "Russian."

| Faint Scar on Left Eye & Mangled Right Ear | \ Fingerless Glove on Right Hand, Bite Scar on Forearm / | Lichtenberg Figure on Right Arm and Down Back |

Valentin Schnell
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

"Oh did it?" I almost asked laughingly as Valentin made a note of the little backhanded toss of the 'muggle' food. "Well I hope it isn't too familiar; I don't want to accidentally break you with a cast iron ball if I can help it." A chill ran down my spine unconsciously as I recalled the exact blow and how it had subsequently shattered my bat. I needed to invest in a more sturdy one soon. Perhaps I would be able to do that after I went back to London after this little expedition. The thought of testing out a plethora of bats of all wood types for what could be a multi-day expedition was something that made me internally groan a little... but there was always the hope that I would find a better companion than my old, wrecked friend. "I guess I haven't really noticed... I've been wood-carving more recently, though." Not that I had produced anything of interest so far other than a few very thin and easily breakable 'proto-wands' or the occasional de-barked stick, of course... but it was something that I had been doing for the past few months.

I watched as Valentin finally roused himself from looking out stone-faced into the cloudy distance, as if there was something on the horizon that was approaching at a rapid pace. Looking out at where he had gazed, I peripherally observed the Niffler stow away his broom in the saddlebag he had brought with him. "I'm just glad you're willing to stick with me." I said instinctively and without a beat. "Throughout all of this. I-I can carry that if you need." Speaking about the saddlebag, naturally. I was used to acting like a pack mule in the past; I always carried heavy things.

Ah yes... just... just call on Valentin. I always had to force myself to remember that that was indeed an option of mine, that it was something that I was being actively reminded that I could do. I supposed I simply felt that I should brave most things on my own, asking for help never seemed to fit me right. I did need to remember that; that Valentin had been the nearest and dearest friend that I had ever known... perhaps even more than a friend, at that. Even as much as I tried to pretend that it wasn't, I couldn't deny that, well...

I did cherish Valentin more than anyone else that I had known my entire life. From among those passing faces and names that I never paid attention to and those that I had known well but not well enough, Valentin was the only one that I had felt comfortable enough to not only stick around with on a daily basis, but to also actively try to stay close to the hip of if he was in the vicinity. I didn't know if I concentrated better when I studied with him or reviewed all things education in the Durmstrang curriculum, but I sure did seem to enjoy those study sessions better than if I had been with another random student in the library who needed my help with something or if I was trying to study on my own.

Valentin's gaze returned to the horizon again, and I glanced away and downwards as he shared his gut feelings. Despite myself, I only chuckled a bit at Valentin's belief that he wasn't doing enough. "Fulminetto Little Lightning Bolt, stop selling yourself short. You know me well enough to know that I do this to myself because I don't want you to worry yourself sick. You love so much, so intensely... Closing my eyes, I nodded and took in a lungful of the cooler midday air and the faint whisper of changing weather on the wind. "I'm just not used to--well, I guess--trusting myself enough to share a burden or ask for help. I need to do better about that. And I want to help you too."

'I don't want you to think I wouldn't be there in a heartbeat if you called for me either. I...'

"I'm liking your company better than my brother at this point in time." I snorted, opening my eyes as I shifted my suitcase again. "There's a reason he's not here, of course. Maddie almost had to Stupify him just to keep him from running through the cupboard with me." I had not forgotten nor forgiven his little Amortentia party trick. While we had essentially 'made up' and let 'bygones be bygones' for the time being, I considered this quite a righteous 'punishment' for even as little as having the gall to attempt the level of nonsense he had pulled on me and Valentin; something that had literally sent (at least me, if not Valentin) into a tailspin that had in my mind only seemed to be getting worse as the months wore on. "What I'm trying to say is that... you've done so much just by being here. With me."

Valentin strides into the clearing as I clear my throat as well and take one confident step forward in the pursuit of trying to locate the circus that I knew had to be somewhere in this vicinity (unless I had somehow been misinformed...) "Yes. Verso il destino. Towards destiny."

The boy with the keener mind, Valentin was well-used to spotting for the unusual and the strange. His keen eyes and his natural sense of awareness (especially when it came to recognizing something that would appear out of place to those who were not accustomed to being aware) [Wisdom Check: d20[9]+17=26, KE: 39], the boy would indeed spot a few interesting things that did seem... strangely out of place, if one would. Just a kind of strange, quirky detail that seemed unassuming at first until one took a closer look at it.

For one thing, there appeared to be something like a small pile of firewood not too far away from where the boys had set up camp for the night. It was a few meters away from the thicker brush that would have likely easily concealed it, and it appeared to be... artificially stacked as a stack of firewood should be. Coming up on its side, however, would reveal a darkened cavity inside that was a sort of 'teepee' stack. It was a little larger three fourths of a meter in diameter or so, and while the grass around the stack appeared to be completely unblemished... the interior of the pile was perfectly burnt and reduced to ash, protected from the wind by the back of the 'log cabin'. Not only this, but the difference between the interior ashes and the exterior grasses seemed divided by a crisp, perfect half circle that did not pass the threshold of the stack. It was as if a border had been placed there to prevent the fire that must have been inside from spreading... the interior of the little pile was charred as well... but neither of these observations would explain why any of the grass just outside of this pile would not also be at least a little singed as well. The border placed must have been completely impenetrable.

There was also a small, shriveled, and tightly closed rosebud, white in hue and unblemished as snow, which lay seemingly crushed into the grass a few paces away from it. Odd that detail was too, considering a flower of its pristine beauty and softness (were it not obviously parched and dead for want of water and time since being cut) was one that one would likely observe or pluck from a well-maintained garden instead of being a wild rose well-adapted to the snarls of the forests.

But while Valentin was the one who noticed the strangeness of these two grounded details, it was Romeo who would be first to notice [Wisdom Check: d20[18]+10=28] the faintest smear of an bluish outline (thanks to distance) just shorter than the horizon. It was not Bergen proper, so it must be their destination.

With a point towards the small haze that indicated what could be fires or cooking or generally notable signs of life, I called over to Valentin. "Hey, I think I found it!" I whistled a bit at the distance, but it was a reasonable amount of walking; after all, it had been safer to end up farther away from Muggles than being too close and getting too many questions asked of us. Good for the legs, right? "Iiiiit's a bit of a walk... but I don't think it's anything we can't manage. Nothing like a good old-fashioned constitutional to get the blood pumping first thing in the morning, right Val?" Still trying to ignore how my unburdened hand was shaking a bit at my side with the anxious anticipation of maybe, just maybe getting some answers, I tried to psych myself as much as I could. This was... this was potentially one of my--well, not worst--but close to worst nightmares; being in an unfamiliar place and being totally unsure how to conduct myself and how to act. Being excited to actually visit Cielle wasn't really helping in the process.

Even as I took one step forward, though, I heard a crunch beneath my foot. "Huh? What in the world was...?" Lifting my boot, I observe that where my foot had fallen there was now broken remains and powder of what could have been a small bottle or something; like a little dram. There was even a cork there, though the cork was old and rotten... or had it been corroded on the side that would have once been inside of the phial to retain whatever had been in there at some point in time? "Huh. Weird. I guess this place doesn't get cleaned up often... shame. It's a pretty area." I said this after also observing some other odd pieces of bric-a-brac both trash and vegetable matter alike sort of splayed out around the area.

Reducio

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 8 | Strength 17 Ω
Ω Accuracy 18 | Wisdom 10 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω
Ω Muggle Condition Ω

"Well I hope it isn't too familiar," said Romeo. "I don't want to accidentally break you with a cast iron ball if I can help it." Valentin’s hand rose to the back of his neck as he recalled the bludger that dealt the seeker a heavy blow of amnesia about a month ago. The hell-chaser would have preferred that Romeo never hold back anyway, even if it meant taking the kind of bludger #4 dealt during the height of their quidditch match. After all, Val found few things worse than people going easy on him or denying him the full brunt of a truth.

“It’s fiiiine…” Val sighed, unable to deny the possibility that even something as meager as a bludger could end his life in a freak accident, let alone whatever they were getting themselves into now. “…And of course I’m happy to help whenever I can prove useful, and it’s, please – let me carry this weight and more, actually, at the next opportunity… I’ve been going too easy on myself lately and I’ve got to get stronger somehow. I’m just happy to hear that you still have use for me after everything that’s happened.”

"Fulminetto Little Lightning Bolt, stop selling yourself short. You know me well enough to know that I do this to myself because I don't want you to worry yourself sick. You love so much, so intensely..." Heart twisting from the tone of Romeo’s voice, Valentin’s eyes wandered up to the apex of the sky, spotting the smallest speck of a raven through the mist. "I'm liking your company better than my brother at this point in time. There's a reason he's not here, of course. Maddie almost had to Stupify him just to keep him from running through the cupboard with me." Valentin crossed his arms with a pained expression, and shook his head. What was Romeo trying to say? If he meant to suggest Valentin had some strong significance to him, then Val couldn’t hear it any other way than if spoken by Piérre. Almost certainly, Romeo left Piérre out of this in order to punish his brother and prevent Pierluigi from having opportunities to ruin what Romeo had so painstakingly set up. Intentionally keeping Romeo's brother out of this had nothing to do with whatever Val was worth to him, and so Val concluded he was just leftovers when Piérre was no longer a suitable match. Romeo’s words seemed just the same as Piérre’s flawed logic that Romeo’s violence had anything to do with the seeker’s significance when it was really just a continuation of who Romeo was and would always be even if he’d never met Valentin. Of course he was making use of Valentin now since no one else was so persistent about getting used. Wasn’t it all just the colddrake’s hypnotism, anyway, making Romeo bend to Valentin’s will?

"What I'm trying to say is that... you've done so much just by being here. With me."

“It took much more bravery to call on me than it does for me to simply keep my promises.”

Soon the pair began advancing on the compound, and Valentin gave a nudge to Romeo before pointing at the curious burn pattern inside a firewood-type structure. Not wanting to raise his voice as they were snooping, Valentin continued to look about and saw a fallen white rosebud laying crushed in the grass. What was that doing there? Before he could come up with a theory, though, Romeo exclaimed that he’d found something. Of course Val, an enthusiastic athlete, had no problem with a little walk despite the slow speed of the undertaking – they were in a new environment and there were still plenty of details for Val’s eyes and brain to work over. Still, it was the trembling movement in Romeo’s unladen hand that drew Valya’s attention. His co-captain seemed nervous indeed, and as they walked, all Val could do was stare at that empty hand before Romeo’s surprise shook Val out of his fixation.

"Huh? What in the world was...?"

Looking at the broken glass by Romeo’s foot, Valentin squatted to consider the powder spilled from the little vial. While Val was by no means a specialist in potions, he was still a consistently top performing student at Durmstrang who made a game of acing the material presented in each of his courses. Could Valentin identify what was once in that broken bottle?

Basic Stats: STA 8 - EVA 20 - STR 3 - WIS 17 - ARC 1 - ACC 15
Stats on Broom: 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
Godmods of Romeo’s and Valentin’s characters are consensual throughout this and other threads
Action: Observation/knowledge check on the nature of the spilled substance

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide. Durmstrang Institute's

Romeo Giovanni Marchonné [6'7" | 199lbs]

"English." "Italiano. Italian." "Russian."

| Faint Scar on Left Eye & Mangled Right Ear | \ Fingerless Glove on Right Hand, Bite Scar on Forearm / | Lichtenberg Figure on Right Arm and Down Back |

Valentin Schnell
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

Snorting a bit as I got off the little broken phial, I moved aside and crossed my arms as I beheld the general disaster of the area around us. Seriously, how messy could people be... It didn't take that much energy to just pick up after yourself; just put it all in a trash bag and bring it home with you or find a public dumpster, my goodness...

But this aside, I glanced over to where Valentin had caused me to direct my attention. A pile of strangely stacked wood... [Romeo Observation (Wisdom) Check: d20(3)+10 = 13] Weird, certainly, but I didn't really think that it was too out of the ordinary. "Remains of someone's camp?" I suggested back, noticing the almost teepee-like structure to it and the burn marks that were upon it. The ring was strange to be sure, but... "Maybe whoever used it last used a ring of stones to prevent a fire from forming?" It was my best thought, anyways. Considering we were outside of a city, one of the largest in Norway at that, it wasn't unlikely that a few strange sorts would likely linger around these parts for whatever reason it was that they felt had a need to be here for.

Valentin's interest, however, remained more on the glass that I had broken when I had unconsciously stepped upon it. His interests would quickly be piqued further as he would realize and observe more than a few interesting things [Valentin Intelligence (Wisdom/ArcPower Average) Check: d20(14)+11 = 25] after appraising it as soon as a few short seconds after first glance. For one thing, the glass that had made up the bottle was as thin as sugar glass; it looked as if it would break with even so much as the lightest touch, not to mention the weight of Romeo having stepped on it. The cork, similarly corroded, was specifically more corroded on the one half that was closest to the ground. This would leave the Germanic-Turkish boy with a few considerations to keep in mind as he tried to assess what could be noted from the peculiarities of physical traits of the materials that must have once been within the container. Highly acidic was the first thing that came to mind, something acidic and unstable enough enough to eat through both the now-thin glass and cork alike. This then brought the query of: what magical creatures have a venom or an acid secretion strong enough to destroy such a glass phial in such a way?

Unless it was not of a magical nature, but instead of a more mundane one. Precious few acids could eat through glass, considering that acidic ions would have to be able to separate the chemical bonds of oxygen and silicon; hydrofluoric acid sprang to mind first, but also strong mineral acids the likes of nitric and sulfuric as well.

But... everything around the phial was also dead, and the ground was a 'bald patch' for lack of a better word. Nothing was growing here, and dead insects smattered the area with chitin dissolved and melted on their own bodies and upon the ground; husks that were too desiccated to even been collected by other ants or forager insects... if they even wanted to try to negotiate whatever potent acid had claimed the lives of the bugs to begin with. Though perhaps the specific name would not come to the mind of the high-school aged boy, he would know enough to know that it would likely behoove the both of them to stay away and give a wide berth to what would be recognized by advanced chemists and alchemists as fluoroantimonic acid. Whoever had dumped this material here either liked to toy with fate or knew what they were doing.

But of course that begged the question: What were they doing? Why was this here? How in the world had they even gotten their hands on such a potent material that was highly regulated and very, very dangerous to even store in such a reckless way?

I fixed the broken glass with another sheepish look. "Sorry about that..." I mumbled, shifting the pack on my shoulder again and fixing my sights on the circus rising up in the distance. "I guess I just forget to watch my step sometimes..." I waited a bit longer for Valentin to conclude his findings before refocusing on our destination. "I guess I should probably prepare for popcorn to stick between my treads next, huh." I asked myself. A small smile was flashed back to Valentin. "Come on, if we do a fast clip now we can easily make it there by a little after noon, I think!"

So saying, I pushed myself into a slow lope just faster than a speed walk and just short of a full fast-jog. Breathing steadily and motivated by the adrenaline of adventure and spinning thoughts that circled mostly around the thought that perhaps I would finally meet this elusive "Gitano Luca Vero" that I had done some remedial research on before heading up here to begin with. I was fairly confident that I would be able to at least recognize the man if I saw him... even if it could prove difficult to run into the ringleader one on one...

Closer and closer we would go, ready to enter the outer fringes of Cielle's circus; the Jubilant Bazaar. Enter the outer fringes... and get closer to the very center of this curious investigation that had been a little over a year in the making already.

Reducio

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 8 | Strength 17 Ω
Ω Accuracy 18 | Wisdom 10 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω
Ω Muggle Condition Ω

“We’d better be careful, Romeva. Who knows what kind of mad potioneer might take unkindly to our presence here.” Avoiding the corroded spot on the ground, Valentin squinted into the distance as they moved ahead. “I wonder if the potions are used as part of the performances, or if it’s just someone’s hobby…” Waving his hand to dismiss Romeo’s apologies, it was clear that he was forgiven before the Italian had even spoken. “Still… pop...corn? What’s… I don’t get it.”

Striding quickly alongside Romeo, Valentin thought to himself how it had become more comfortable walking at his ideal pace ever since Romeo had grown tall. Now each step from the giant of a teen went considerably farther, and Val didn’t feel he had to slow himself down as much. The seeker was used to being forward reconnaissance in general, but now was not the time to split up. Rather, Valentin hoped his own ability to see clearly from afar had improved enough through training that they no longer needed to physically separate for Val's eyes to be enough for the team now.

Keen violet gaze scanning the perimeter of the Jubilant Bazaar, Valentin searched for threats – especially any sign that the place might be trapped to alert its inhabitants to unexpected visitors.

Basic Stats: STA 8 - EVA 20 - STR 3 - WIS 17 - ARC 1 - ACC 15
Stats on Broom: 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
Godmods of Romeo’s and Valentin’s characters are consensual throughout this and other threads
Action: Observation/knowledge check for traps

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide. Durmstrang Institute's

Romeo Giovanni Marchonné [6'7" | 199lbs]

"English." "Italiano. Italian." "Russian."

| Faint Scar on Left Eye & Mangled Right Ear | \ Fingerless Glove on Right Hand, Bite Scar on Forearm / | Lichtenberg Figure on Right Arm and Down Back |

Valentin Schnell
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

Drawing closer and closer to the actual collective of the circus, light festival music began to fill the air and distinguishable tents and stands were more easily observed. Signs of life also increased the closer the pair got to the fray, such as the presence of bric-a-brac the likes of popcorn and their cardboard holders, stray bottles and cans, and here and there a few cigarette butts roughly ground out. I smiled as I sensed the smells and sounds so familiar and 'Muggle' to me compared to the wizard world. I had never been in a fairground circus quite like this one, even if the Italian wine festivals had been a close comparison to them. At those parties wine flowed freely and it was more comparable to the celebration of Mardi Gras as opposed to simply enjoying oneself at an amusement-park-like place. The salty, buttery smell of fresh-popped popcorn as well as the smell of fairy floss seemed to signify that we had indeed entered into this 'new' land.

I glanced over at Valentin. "Popcorn, yeah!" I said brightly, shrugging a bit as I kicked a few of the fallen kernels that had fallen on the ground. "Dried corn kernels that are popped with heat and then seasoned and buttered. It's just a fun food for watching movies or if you want to snack on something... Oh! Mm. That's right, that's a pretty muggle thing usually, isn't it..." I supposed that all of this was a bit strange to Valentin... Had he even ever been out on a fairground or something similar to this before? "Hey if you want to try some, I'm sure we could hassle the vendor or something. We're already here, so why not enjoy the time, right?" I could feel my eyes brightening a bit as I continued to look around at the bright colors, streamers, stands, and the large central tent that had to be the Big Top.

All around, though, there were performances of other calibers. A "Test your Strength" looking area, which appeared to be a round-robin sort of arm-wrestling contest; criers shouting in a foreign language seemed to be directing winners and losers around the circle of competing tables. The current seeming champion (for it was around his table that most of the onlookers were congregated) was a young man probably in his mid twenties with a mop of blonde hair and dark blue eyes, currently engaged in a match against another man a few years older than himself with a hearty beard and Nordic runes running up his right arm. The two of them were grin-gritting their teeth, their lips moving back and forth in a banter as their fists moved this way and that.

While their fight was admirable and neck and neck, after a short burst of movement on behalf of the champion his grip seemed to slip. The interlocked hands moved back to center, pushed to the opposite side, and now the battle was lost as strength gave out and the former champion's hand was forced to the table by the challenger. There was a collective cheer and booing from the crowd, and money started to change hands. "Hah! Round-robin arm wrestling." I observed the old champion gracefully bow out after a handshake and then a subsequent shaking of his hand to loosen the cramping there. The new champion was jostled by his surrounding friends for a few moments as he imbibed from a can of beer before he laughed in turn and then awaited his next opponent.

Beyond that there seemed to be an axe-throwing setup, with a young woman dressed like a shieldmaiden and casually wielding a throwing axe as she laughed with a young man around her age who was idly tossing and then catching his own throwing axes. A small group of people were engaging with the targets at the end of the range, some more successfully than others, but they all seemed to be having a good time just as well. Huh... that could be fun.

Valentin, more preoccupied with concerns being that this place was likely riddled with traps and dangers on all sides [KE: d100(58), Wisdom Check: d20(1) + 19 = 20 Critical Failure], would find his attentions distracted by every bell, whistle, shout, and general buzz of conversation; it was something that would ruin his concentrations every time he got close to focusing on anything that he would consider unusual in the area. Languages that were not his primary ones, tongues that the compulsive polyglot always aspired to learn; perhaps these tongues were the cause of most of his distractions, native Norwegian, Finnish, and Icelandic being uttered on all sides in their melodic and guttural tones like the ebb and flow of his beloved music. It was the perfect distraction and just right to prove insurmountable even for his keen eyes; those eyes would flick to every sound, be caught by the next brightly-colored banner, and would be unable to notice the smaller intricacies of the area around the two of them.

On the other hand, I myself was more preoccupied with noticing the most populated parts of the circus... perhaps we would be able to find Cielle and her family. I wanted to take note of the specific stands, of the attractions. Perhaps if we found the right attractions, things would unfold. After all, if an alleged 'ringmaster' was running this place, surely he would be making the rounds and ensuring that his business was business as usual and not devolving into chaos around him. At least, this was my thought. As well as the arm-wrestling and the axe throwing and the few food stands that were around alongside the tents of what I had to assume would house the moving carnival, I took notice of [Wisdom Check: d20(10) + 10 = 20] trinket and bauble shops that sold lightly metalworked items and charms, woodwork and whittling, small minerals and gemstones, and clothes as well as props. A little bit of a little of everything was around the area, each obviously overseen by the vendors that sold their wares.

There were performers scattered around too; jugglers in particular, but also a spare acrobat or two that wandered about and a crier that called out that the next performance would be starting in the big top soon. "KOM TIL DEN STORE TOPPEN! MERKELIGE SKAPNINGER, VÅGALE OG NEGLEBITENDE HANDLINGER AV DØD-TRASS! EN FORESTILLING AV ILDSPRUTENDE OG SJARMERENDE! COME TO THE BIG TOP! STRANGE CREATURES, DARING AND NAIL BITING ACTS OF DEATH-DEFIANCE! A PERFORMANCE OF FIRE-BREATHING AND CHARMING!" Came the cry accompanied by the ringing of a loud handbell as a face-painted middle-aged man made his way through the crowd. "ALLE DISSE UNDERVERKENE OG MER, PÅ BAZAAR'S BIZARRE! ALL THESE MARVELS AND MORE, AT THE BAZAAR'S BIZARRE!"

I raised my brows. I could only guess at what was being announced, but judging by how the crowd began to gravitate towards the largest tent of the area, I could only assume that it was an announcement somehow pertaining to that. "Bazaar's Bizarre, huh?" I glanced at Valentin again. "Sounds on brand, anyways."

Glancing back over the heads of most of the crowd again, I hummed lightly and bobbed my head a bit as I took in the music of the fairground in full once again. It was so busy yet I felt completely at ease here. Perhaps it was the language barrier that was doing something for my comfort... I didn't really understand a lot of the words being thrown around and could only make assumptions based on the actions and the activities going on around me. "I don't suppose there's anything in particular that you want to do, Val?" I asked, raising my voice ever so slightly so that I could hear myself a bit over the din. "Popcorn, maybe?" I grinned down at him. "You showed me your world. It's only fair that I reciprocate."

There was a sudden flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, and I glanced up just in time to watch an axe plant itself into the bull's eye of a target. The axe had been thrown by a young girl probably only a year or so younger than me and built thin as a reed. Damn. A damn fine shot.

But... I didn't think that that had been what I had...

I pinched between my brows for a moment as a flicker of a headache rushed over me for around a half second, hefting my backpack once as I felt the ringing in my ears heighten and then fade away again. A flicker of unease passed through me for only a second and something like a chill dripped down the back of my neck, as if someone had only just for a moment been close enough to breathe down my collar before it suddenly vanished. It was odd, that sensation, as if something had been caught in a place that it wasn't supposed to be; like the smear of a fingerprint on a mirror right before being wiped away. There were eyes everywhere. Of course we were being watched; we did... we did somewhat stick out, naturally.

A ripple of subsequent amusement went through me, that same trickling of a feeling, before I finally shook my head. I smiled again. "So Val, What'll it be?"

Reducio

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 8 | Strength 17 Ω
Ω Accuracy 18 | Wisdom 10 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω
Ω Muggle Condition Ω

The way the festive muggle environment was bringing out a carefree, even playful demeanor in Romeo was indeed strange for Valentin, whose eyes still darted about warily and sharp-edged as he remained hard-focused on the mission. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel like he should try to relax a little, even if Romeo’s attitude was actually a self-defense mechanism to counter the nervousness over potentially meeting his father. It’s probably me who’s being weird, to be honest… thought the seeker. I mean… it’s not like his ‘father’ is going to try to kill him like what happened to me in Germany. Normal people don’t have to worry about such things. I’m still just hurting over my mother’s murder, and my father’s… disappearance. Try to be normal just for once, Valik. Don’t ruin this for him with your paranoia...

“Sure. I don’t really know anything about this kind of stuff, so I hope you’ll introduce me.” Looking around, it seemed that there were all kinds of tests of skill, triggering a competitive tickle in the back of the captain’s mind. “I bet you could beat people at any test of strength here, or any of these accuracy trials. You’re not just an athlete, but you’re a top performer from Durmstrang. If you wanted to attract attention, well, participating could be one way to get people to start talking to us.” The swarm of languages all about Valentin pulled his attention away from being able to focus on any one person for very long, however, and so he let himself sink into the hopes that Romeo would act as a sort of muggle tour guide. Nothing terribly meaningful was coming to Val despite his best efforts at being observant [Crit Fail]. Even so, it was impossible to miss the crier’s declaration of the wonders the Bazaar’s Bizarre were said to perform.

"I don't suppose there's anything in particular that you want to do, Val? … Popcorn, maybe?"

Valentin blushed and jerked his eyes to the side. He was certainly trying to relax, but to eat a strange muggle food in public when they were on a mission and in such a disorienting atmosphere…

“Thanks, but I… I’m still full from that dried meat. What did you say that is called…? It’s a muggle dish, right? A-anyway, what if we… hey, are you alright? Is it a headache again?” Valentin watched as a chill seemed to wash over Romeo and across his blanched face. “What is it?” Val soothed through a silky low tenor. Still, Romeo shook his head and smiled again.

"So Val, What'll it be?"

Eyeing Romeo with concern, Valentin took a deep breath. Maybe even his co-captain didn’t know what that was about. Still, something stuck in the back of Valentin’s mind. If Romeo had no explanation, them maybe Val could still find one. If only he’d had that strange, sixth sense his hyperosmic friend Aida did.

"Err… why don’t you show me how rigged that ‘Test Your Strength’ challenge is?" Summoning a smile again, Valentin wanted Romeo to have a good time. Still, as they walked off together, the seeker would still be scanning for any hint of what it was that had caused such a strange reaction in the Italian.

Basic Stats: STA 8 - EVA 20 - STR 3 - WIS 15 [17] - ARC 1 - ACC 15
Stats on Broom: 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
Godmods of Romeo’s and Valentin’s characters are consensual throughout this and other threads
Action: Nonchalantly searching for what set Romeo off

¤ | Ω | ¤

Nec Temere, Nec Timide. Durmstrang Institute's

Romeo Giovanni Marchonné [6'7" | 199lbs]

"English." "Italiano. Italian." "Russian."

| Faint Scar on Left Eye & Mangled Right Ear | \ Fingerless Glove on Right Hand, Bite Scar on Forearm / | Lichtenberg Figure on Right Arm and Down Back |

Valentin Schnell
@Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood

"Mad potioneer... If that was a potion, it did look like a not-nice one..." I mused aloud, after turning the thought of using potions in performances over in my head for a while since Valentin had noticed it earlier. "If it's for performances, whomever made them must like walking the line of the law with the Statute of Secrecy and all; if it's for a hobby... it's a potent-looking one." For a brief instant the portrait of the man that we were potentially looking for flashed through my mind, of a chuckling gentleman in respectable attire calmly outpouring one phial of substance into another to produce the love-pink reaction. The way his eye had creased in amusement, the arch of his brow in a testy challenge to the onlooker, and then the confidence that had come with imbibing the mystery potion that he had created...

Vero.

'Siamo vicini a una risposta, vero? Finding ourselves close to an answer, are we?' Queried the curl.

'Avvicina sempre di piu. Getting closer and closer...' I clapped back at the sour thought.

Yes, getting closer and closer.

'Divertente. Funny'

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Just a headache and a ringing in my ears. Darn tinnitus. I'm probably dehydrated or something too. It was a cold flight here, likely took a lot out of me." I replied to the best of my ability to Val's query. Honestly, I was surprised that I didn't have more of a headache considering stress and generally just... things... going on. "I'm feeling fine, thankfully I don't think I'll pass out or anything." I joked lightly. "Probably just need to eventually replenish fluids." I glanced around again, pushing away the strange, looming sensation I felt that I could brush against with my fingertips. It was oppressive... but perhaps it was the cloud cover and the darkness that was being cast over the area because of it that was the main cause of that feeling.

Vero...

"Mhm. Oh I plan to introduce you for sure. This kind of daredevil stunting and performance seems right up your alley. Right up my own alley, perhaps, strongmen and all." I remarked brightly once again, watching more people pass around us as children rushed by with streamers trailing behind. "Well... just let me know if you get peckish, okay? We'll find somewhere quiet to go and something you want to have when you want it, mhm? I tried to encourage Valentin in that subtle and gentle way that I usually did. I knew that there was nothing to worry about, but it never hurt to always make sure. It had been a long journey, and even I was more peckish than I usually was. Flying did indeed take a lot out of one...

"The Test Your Strength?" I arced a brow at him as I considered. Well, he was certainly right that participating could draw attention. Perhaps it would be good attention... At the least it was a way to kill time. "Whaaat, are you trying to get me to show-off or something?" I jibed as I nudged him with a shoulder. I mean... it did sound fun... "What the Hell, let's try it."

While it did take a while for the small-ish wait line to pass through, the matches were usually over pretty quickly and decisively, obviously tiered in the order of increasing strength leading up to the new reigning champion who continued to strike down all who came to oppose him while the gathering crowd cheered and chanted in both foreign and familiar language. It appeared that in order to keep things moving each match was a single match to result in either a win or a loss, so as not to wear out the advancer as they moved up the rankings. In a twinkling it was time for Romeo to try his hand at the matches. As Valentin took watch, Romeo faced his first opponent; a bit of a scruffy looking boy his own age whose bicep, while defined, was certainly of no note when compared to the much taller and stronger built Romeo. Still, the kid didn't give up, even as within a few seconds Romeo forced their joined hands [O16 v R32, O11 v R23] to the kid's side of the table.

"Yeah I figured that was coming..." Remarked the kid in Russian as he shook his head and appraised Romeo a little bit closer. "You're built like a tank. Hell, I think even you could have beaten me." A nod to Valentin. "Good match. I'm calling it for the day." So saying, the boy stood up and grabbed his coat from beside him and marched off, his buddies uniting with him a few feet away and almost immediately going into jibes and teases about his 'giving up' attitude and laughing remarks on the 'tank' of a person who had just bested him. Ach well... that sort of thing was old news to me by now; I was used to being talked about and teased in that way by now.

Still, that had been a nice match. Time to move up? "Hey, you can take this seat if you like, I'll challenge the next person up." I spoke to the next person waiting, indicating to the table I was leaving with Valentin. A small smile, and my words seemed to have been understood by the next person, who gracefully took the next seat and then readied themselves for the next match.

Awkwardly shifting to the next ring with small and slightly uncertain smile to Valentin, I set up against a well-muscled woman with dark hair slightly covering her eyes who had her face set seriously and flipped her mobile phone over so that she could sigh as she looked at me the first time. "Ikke våg å gå lett på meg. Jeg vet om du prøver, og jeg vil slå deg rettferdig og firkantet. Don't you dare go easy on me. I'll know if you try, and I'll beat you fair and square." She said bluntly, nodding to our locked hands.

I nodded. "I don't know what you're saying, but I'm ready." I tightened my grip slightly and gave a slight indication of a press before returning to center for fairness' sake.

When she started putting pressure on, I returned, and our match began. Just like the first, however, it didn't last long after the initial struggle. She was a good deal stronger than the first opponent I had faced, but her strength was average at best despite the admirability of it, and I of course had a bit of a biological advantage. After a slow press halfway as the crowd cheered and hollered for both of us, the rest of her strength gave out [O28 v R36, O30 v R34], and with a tense release of breath her hand hit the table. Releasing me, she leaned back and crossed her arms with a small hiss, nodding stubbornly. "Tch. Jeg kunne ha slått deg hvis jeg hadde kritt på hendene. God match, tror jeg. Tch. I could have beaten you if I had chalk on my hands. Good match, I guess." She dismissively waved a hand, obviously indicating for me to move on.

"Good match." I replied with a respectful nod. I had at least recognized that much of the very foreign tongue.

"I'm getting farther than I thought I would..." I murmured to Valentin, massaging my right hand a bit to work out some of the tensions that were already building. "Are you spotting anything interesting? Do you want to try your hand at this?" I was getting a few claps on the back for being an up and incoming opponent on my side of the bracket. Meanwhile there was more cheering in Norwegian from the champion's table as the reigning champion claimed another win and kept his crown. "Imagine getting all the way to the top." I mused.

My next match was against one of the champion's friends as displayed by the fact that he was bent backwards so that he could carry on a conversation with the chuckling fellow. Sitting up again, he took a small drink of his beverage and then offered his hand in what was probably a shake. "Hey! Welcome, welcome! Sit right down, I'll make it quick!" He exclaimed jovially in accented English as I took the nicety and shook his hand with a smile. I did crack a bit of a laugh in response. "Ah... well, we'll let the match decide, right?"

"Right! Come on now, hands up!"

"Alright! Let's get it."

Locking hands, I full-body jerked a bit as the man tried to take advantage of me not being ready to wrestle. Gritting my teeth as I righted both of our hands, he laughed once and then we both strained; vying this way and that to take advantage of the weakness in the other's defenses. "Damn, I almost had you too!" He crowed a bit as his hand wavered towards his side before righting itself.

"Cheaters never prosper." I replied bluntly, before shifting my lower half into a stronger base as my hand started to tilt my way.

There was a single moment, a moment of hesitation by him, and I had all the opening of an opportunity that I needed to seal the match. With a sudden jerk, [O27 v R39, O31 v R38], his arm almost hit the table at high speed. He stopped himself just short with a choked cry, however, and then grinned again. "You're tough!" Came the strangled words as he made one more fierce effort to bring both of our hands to the middle again.

". . ." I didn't speak, I only pressed his hand slowly to the table and then released with a tight hiss through my teeth. "Good game." I said softly, massaging my hand and bicep again. I raised my brows. "Am I going to be facing your buddy now?"

The other man, also rolling his shoulder and working cramps out of his hand laughed again and then nodded. "Ha! I guess so. Hey Gustav! You've got a new contender!" He leaned backwards and snapped his fingers twice to catch the attention of the reigning champion. Gustav glanced up at me as another opponent moved aside.

After looking for a few moments as if to consider me, a bit of a smile split across his bearded face and a surprisingly hearty voice for such a gruff look came from him as he waved me over. "Hey you, yeah redhead! Get over here!" He slapped the table much to the laughter and the further cheering of the circle around him. As I carefully picked my way to him, I supposed that he somehow noted the visible awkwardness of the way I held myself slightly forward to mask my height. "You are a giant!" More chuckling. "Come on now, don't be shy. I've had a few and I'm feeling good. You look like you'll give me a challenge." Gustav put his elbow on the table, waiting for me to reciprocate. "You must hit the gym at least five times a week; show me what you've got!"

I only nervously smiled and chuckled a bit with a shrug before presenting my hand and locking in for competition. "Aha... Well, I'll always try my best. Let the best man win."

Gustav was much stronger than any of the opponents that I had faced thus far, and I could tell this immediately by how his eyes pierced through mine and didn't even for a moment flick to our wavering hands. Back and forth like a pendulum, it seemed like we couldn't decide which of us were favored compared to the other. I took a bit of an advantage; [O27 v R37] our hands moved his way... but with just as much force he slowly pushed us back into the middle [O34 v R24] once more.

Raising a brow, Gustav fixed me with a look. Staring right back, I forced his arm his way [O19 v R35] one more time with a strain as I felt my entire body shaking just as much as his. I kept trying to keep my breathing steady; I needed to breathe if I was going to keep exerting myself in pressing against this wall-like force. Once more, my arm was forced back, our fists closed in the center of the table [O27 v R23] for the third time.

As the muscle war between Romeo and the current arm-wrestling champion raged on, Valentin instead glanced about the area in pursuit of the thing that had seemed to cause a small, almost unnoticeable shift in Romeo's typical demeanor. By now his already quite keen senses were swiftly adapting to become used to the environment that they were surrounded within, and by now total acclimation was beginning to take effect. He would indeed at last manage to spot something, [KE(90+): d100(41), Wisdom: d20(13) + 17 = 30] even among the crowd and the movement. At this point it was natural for him to spot movement among movement; he had to, in order to find the snitch on a regular basis among the hurtling bludgers and brooms with ally and enemy mounted for and opposed to him. And movement he did spot, movement indeed those heliotrope eyes beheld; the slow, rotational motion of a pale and smoking item spinning slowly on its horizontal axis as it arced through the air and into nowhere.

The thin, used body of a cigarette ensorcelled in its own smoke being flicked away.

As fast as lightning those eyes would almost automatically follow the trajectory of the object back from whence it came, tracking the invisible arc that it must have been taken by the initial force and gravity working in tandem. The eyes would lay sight upon a hand covered by a black leather glove raising a fresh cigarette to the lips of a man in his prime who was striding out long-leggedly from behind the barrier of the axe throwing range. Sun-golden hair like a halo flowed behind him with the breeze produced by his pace, a little longer than shoulder length. Arced slightly forward on his head and tipped cockily to one side was a broad-brimmed and low-crowned cartwheel-style hat which in a belt around the crown carried a large, gorgeous orange-red feather that appeared to flicker and glow in the light refracting off its fibers. Dressed in a dark outfit that matched the style of other performers in the area with its slightly fantastical yet functional digression, a single-sided shoulder cape fluttered and flaunted a bold indigo inseam, revealing on his right hip (only visible in snatches through the small gaps in the crowd) a tightly coiled glossy black-handled and rich brown leather whip. What perhaps was the most unnerving, though, was the fact that this man was staring directly back into Valentin's eyes… with the only eye that he appeared to be in possession of.

A black patch covered his right eye, but his left a bright oceanic blue (a hue and lightness more noticeable by both dark and almost smoky decorative liner and a light shine of gold and orange dust that sparkled on cheek and brow in the imitation of tongues of flame) appraised on with a gleaming glow to it as if to make up in brightness for the lack of a twin. Emplaced in that handsome face with distinctive features eerily familiar to Valentin thanks to a close relationship with another who bore them, searing blue pierced through argent as if to plumb the depths of the boy's soul. Perhaps it would be enough to induce a chill down to the very base of the notoriously fearless seeker's spine; a gaze that cut deep as if to read, to thumb through a mind as if it were naught more than a disinteresting pamphlet.

Though, after a moment of tension held in this way, perhaps that eye was not so much attracted to the albino as much as it was focused on something behind Valentin. A small bloom of fire from a sterling lighter caused the cigarette to alight. The chilling gaze turned now away, with his stride was the calm motion of a slow drag of the cigarette as the brow darkened and the brilliant blue orb narrowed ever so slightly. Smoke curled from the corners of his mouth, winding into the air lazily before dissipating into the skies. He was not looking at the Tartar boy.

His gaze, the angle at which his head held his stare so that the one eye could look upon him in the form of the damning evil eye, was fixed unwaveringly on the titian Romeo.

Even as quickly as Valentin had laid eyes on this watcher, an accompaniment of fairgoers and a thick gout of smoke from both the man's mouth and nose obscured him from the keen amaranthine sights for the briefest fraction of a second. When the crowd opened up again, all that remained were the last curls of smoke that were quickly blown away by the rain-scented breeze. The man was gone, vanished as if he had never been walking idly by to begin with.

While the battle between the reigning champion and Romeo was fierce, the champion finally appeared to gain the upper hand, taking advantage of Romeo's relative youth and lack of consistent stamina to benefit him. With a sudden bulge of his bicep, Gustav pressed Romeo's arm to the side with sudden [O37 v R34] strength. This strength surprised Romeo so much that he lost his base, and then the match was downward from there. It wasn't a help that a sudden flicker of unease went through the Italian's mind at the same moment, a chill that caused him to shiver and cease all attention to the positioning of his hand, a hand that now struck the table [O28 v R22] in favor of Gustav.

With a shrug and a recline with the can, Gustav extended his hand towards me with a nod of respect. "A good fight. I think I was the one who got lucky here." After a handshake he nodded. "I wouldn't want to face you on the wrong side of the train tracks, that's for sure. What's your name, by the way?"

I blinked a bit, still trying to force that chill out of the base of my spine, the uncomfortable sensation of being watched, that same tingle that I had felt just minutes prior. "Uh... ah, Romeo... I'm travelling." I couldn't get over that feeling... cold and almost keening, like a predator stalking prey.

"Romeo, huh? Well, it's been nice to meet a fellow strongman, ha!" Gustav seemed oblivious to the the atmospheric feeling, whether it be the stormy weather or the sensation of being watched...

I felt a single raindrop fall on the top of my head, and my hand unconsciously trailed to it before I ruffled my hair slightly and then politely excused myself with another handshake and a thanking for the friendly competition. "Hey! If you want a rematch!" Gustav flared his hands. "I'm your man and I'll be here waiting!"

Another awkward smile and nod and then I took Valentin gently by the arm. "Something isn't right. You're right, something just doesn't feel right."

The crier came back the opposite direction, calling the same message as before, whatever it was that he was saying. I followed him the whole way, silent until I was sure he was out of earshot. "I can't stop feeling like I'm being watched. It just... am I being paranoid? Am I just..." It wouldn't be the first time that I had felt paranoid for no reason; it was something that had flourished ever since I was a child, and had blossomed grandly with the drama of the past two years.

The sky began to rumble and more people's eyes turned to the skies with points and then discussions of heading to some shelter. The forked scar hidden beneath my clothes began to tingle, as if realizing that the cause of its existence was close. "... Something isn't right."

Reducio

Stats:

Ω Stamina 9 | Evasion 8 | Strength 17 Ω
Ω Accuracy 18 | Wisdom 10 | ArcPower 0 Ω

Abilities:

Ω Obnoxiously Strong | Perfectionist I | Martial Artist | Healing Sage I Ω
Ω Muggle Condition Ω

Valentin was watching Romeo progress through his bouts, occasionally glancing around at the audience, and part of him wanted to cheer his co-captain on. Yet, another part was focused only on winning the objective for Romeo. It was the only way to make himself feel better, both by keeping his word, and by trying to do something to heal the boy after the shattering of “what could have been” between them. Once a strange, eye-patched figure shot his brilliant ocean gaze on something behind Valentin, however, the seeker knew: this was the man from the book of purebloods – this was Romeo’s father. Batting away the toxic smoke that crept in around him, Valentin still did not loose his gaze despite the chilling atmosphere. After all, Valentin had never given up on a snitch chase in his life, and he wasn’t about to let a lead so important slink back into the shadows out of shyness.

“…” Without a word, Valya stared, which was only made easier by the lack of eye contact from the man. Val wanted to take in more information, to observe, but a chill down Valentin’s spine gave him the impression that, rather, it was him being watched – by someone – somewhere.

We should talk to him. I wonder what he does here. Would he give us the time of day?… I don’t know, don’t know… Does he even want family, or are the brothers alone for a reason? I don’t know, but we have to just… say something…

Valentin opened his mouth, stepping forward only half a stride before the mysterious man slipped away into the crowd. An uncanny tingle ran through the hairs along the back of Valya’s neck, but it was not enough to make the boy afraid. Between the states of fear and nonchalance, however, the white seeker found himself longing for home. A sigh of guilt for having committed himself to so many responsibilities slipped out of Valentin, and he felt he must be failing Alexander for leaving him alone for so long now. A vision of the boy sizzled across his mind’s eye as another stab of regret crackled through his mind. He wasn’t able to take care of him well enough, just like he wasn’t able to take care of Romeo now, all because of his idiotic greed for saying yes to those he loved. How dare he love so much, so many, so strongly? All it did was overpromise so that Valya would under-deliver. The man had slipped away, even, surely because Val had let himself get distracted. If that solitary lead slipped through his fingers now, how could he ever forgive himself for failing Romeo, and Alexander at that for having abandoned his side just to fail someone else? The sting of hooks in his mind lingered, and Valya told himself to stop, but the thoughts seemed to be surging out with a will of their own now.

No, we will make this work. We’ve seen him. He isn’t far now, and my eyes will find him again… for Romeo. For Romeo, right? For Romeo.

As if possessed, Valentin did not even wave to his co-captain as he plunged himself into the crowd. He had to find that man again, no matter what, and not a second more could be spared.

Basic Stats: STA 8 - EVA 20 - STR 3 - WIS 17 - ARC 1 - ACC 15
Stats on Broom: 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
Godmods of Romeo’s and Valentin’s characters are consensual throughout this and other threads
Action: Trying to find the mysterious one-eyed man again by entering into the crowd