Come Out and Play
September 3, 2025
Afternoon, after classes
Silas hated this stupid place. Granted, he had only been here for a couple of days, if that, but still. He missed home — the streets of Manchester. He missed his mates. He missed his phone with his music. He missed his instruments. He missed football. By contrast, he couldn’t name a single thing he liked about this place yet. Maybe if, next time he was home, he begged his dad not to make him come back here, he wouldn’t have to… but he doubted that would work. Would he ever get used to this place? He wasn’t sure whether it would be worse to or not. It felt like he had to hate it just on principle. Would he still be the same person if he actually adjusted to this new world…?
After class (what even were these stupid subjects? Charms? Potions? Herbology? He supposed they’d probably be better than maths, but they sounded ridiculous.) he changed into one of his football kits, grabbed his ball, and went outside. At least the grounds seemed to be quite expansive here, so that was one good thing. He jogged around a bit and stretched to warm up, then began dribbling the ball around imaginary cones. Glancing around to check that he had a good amount of space, he threw the ball up in the air and watched it carefully as it came down, catching it on the top of his foot. The next time, he controlled the ball with a touch from the inside of his foot, repeating the process several times. He then began looking for a suitable wall and used it for all sorts of drills, practising things such as his aim and control through a variety of different exercises.
Moving back to a more open space, he found some decently big sticks to serve as “goalposts”, dragging them into place. He backed up and took a shot from the side, trying to practise trickier angles of scoring. The ball bounced neatly between the “posts”. He didn’t have much of a problem with practising alone — he had done plenty of it and it was a vital way fitness and skills got improved. However, he couldn’t stop thinking of how much better this would have been with his mates, bantering and laughing as they played. He sighed. Stupid fucking magic. Why did it have to take so much away from him…? First his mother (and, honestly, basically his father, too), now all this…
But football was a good distraction from his issues. It always had been. Along with music, it was one of his lifelines — one of the things he actually, truly cared about and put effort into. And it was something he was properly good at, too. He shifted to doing keepie-uppies, easily hitting 50 and getting to 78 before he lost track, followed by the ball hitting the ground soon after. He smiled a rare, genuine smile for a moment before he booted the ball hard, idly watching it fly across the grounds. He was dimly aware that there were other people around, but he paid them little notice as he jogged towards the bright red of his Manchester United ball. Maybe one of the bystanders would join him, although he wasn’t going to ask them to.
Afternoon, after classes
Silas hated this stupid place. Granted, he had only been here for a couple of days, if that, but still. He missed home — the streets of Manchester. He missed his mates. He missed his phone with his music. He missed his instruments. He missed football. By contrast, he couldn’t name a single thing he liked about this place yet. Maybe if, next time he was home, he begged his dad not to make him come back here, he wouldn’t have to… but he doubted that would work. Would he ever get used to this place? He wasn’t sure whether it would be worse to or not. It felt like he had to hate it just on principle. Would he still be the same person if he actually adjusted to this new world…?
After class (what even were these stupid subjects? Charms? Potions? Herbology? He supposed they’d probably be better than maths, but they sounded ridiculous.) he changed into one of his football kits, grabbed his ball, and went outside. At least the grounds seemed to be quite expansive here, so that was one good thing. He jogged around a bit and stretched to warm up, then began dribbling the ball around imaginary cones. Glancing around to check that he had a good amount of space, he threw the ball up in the air and watched it carefully as it came down, catching it on the top of his foot. The next time, he controlled the ball with a touch from the inside of his foot, repeating the process several times. He then began looking for a suitable wall and used it for all sorts of drills, practising things such as his aim and control through a variety of different exercises.
Moving back to a more open space, he found some decently big sticks to serve as “goalposts”, dragging them into place. He backed up and took a shot from the side, trying to practise trickier angles of scoring. The ball bounced neatly between the “posts”. He didn’t have much of a problem with practising alone — he had done plenty of it and it was a vital way fitness and skills got improved. However, he couldn’t stop thinking of how much better this would have been with his mates, bantering and laughing as they played. He sighed. Stupid fucking magic. Why did it have to take so much away from him…? First his mother (and, honestly, basically his father, too), now all this…
But football was a good distraction from his issues. It always had been. Along with music, it was one of his lifelines — one of the things he actually, truly cared about and put effort into. And it was something he was properly good at, too. He shifted to doing keepie-uppies, easily hitting 50 and getting to 78 before he lost track, followed by the ball hitting the ground soon after. He smiled a rare, genuine smile for a moment before he booted the ball hard, idly watching it fly across the grounds. He was dimly aware that there were other people around, but he paid them little notice as he jogged towards the bright red of his Manchester United ball. Maybe one of the bystanders would join him, although he wasn’t going to ask them to.
Reducio
If you’re in another thread with me or planning to join one, please don’t join this one as well just for the sake of making sure relationship timelines aren’t messed up. Otherwise, feel free to hop in! You’re welcome to say your character kicks the ball back to him, gets hit by it, picks it up and tries to take it, etc., or just interact normally by approaching him and talking.
Second student character of Ruby Cazares | Staff account: Taros Quintero | iNPC: Valeriy Viktorovna Reznikov
Check out the Headliner!
Come Out and Play
| IC date: 3rd of September | Interactions: @Silas Norwood |
| English: #1a4174 | Thoughts: Italics |
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The grounds were always a nice place to spend time, especially in the afternoon after class. Usually Aston would be here drawing something, he already had many sketches of the lake and the forest surrounding it, more than enough. This time Aston really was just out for a walk, a breath of fresh air that he needed after today's class, it was as confusing as ever. He had hoped that it would get better this year, but Aston had no such luck, it looks like it would be another year of studying for ages at the library.
Magic was certainly convenient, but the fact that they had no real portable music player was seriously annoying. Do they really expect him to only listen to music at home? During the holidays? God he missed his records already...and this was when a bright red ball headed straight for him. Who the hell kicked that hard?? Luckily the confusion wasn't bad enough that Aston stood still, the time he spent training for quidditch didn't fail him, as Aston was able to kick the ball back towards the direction where it came from, towards a boy he didn't know. Good that I didn't get hit in the face or something. That would be genuinely embarrassing, the sports captain of Ravenclaw got hit in the face by a muggle soccer ball, it wouldn't make headlines but it would be very embarrassing. If Cass ever saw something like that it would totally spawn even more horrible nicknames, being called a stalker was enough - seriously he only fell out of a tree once and that name managed to stuck basically till Cass left, what the heck. - Hopefully they are doing well though.
"Nice kick!" Aston yelled at the boy who kicked the ball, it was a good kick, would he be interested in quidditch? Aston can't say that he was exactly familiar with soccer, he knows the basic rules and has an idea of how to play, but that's about it, he haven't really seen muggle sports since he moved over to London, and even back in America his family watched American football instead of soccer or anything other sport. Go Packers and screw the bears, or whatever his mom would say, she often got very excited over the sport. Aston himself never had the same level of investment but he did own a Packers jersey, a gift from his mother that he barely wears anymore.
Aston spoke to the boy again, this time at a more reasonable volume, "You brought that ball over with you? Cool, first time I've seen people do that to be honest, not many people are playing muggle sports around here." Sure, it hasn't been that long since he got here, but he is a third year now! He can make some judgements.
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Come Out and Play
Callum hadn’t been paying much attention when he stepped outside. He had just wanted some fresh air after Charms—something to clear his head before heading back into the castle to finish his Potions essay.
Perhaps that’s why he was completely unprepared when something hard and surprisingly fast smacked straight into his side.
“HUFF—!” he wheezed, doubling over as he clutched his side, the air knocked out of him. For a moment, he thought he had been punched by a ghost; the impact definitely felt like a fist. Turning his head to see what—or who—had hit him, he noticed a bright red ball lying in the grass beside him. As he glanced further, he saw a boy jogging over.
Callum got up, rubbing his side before picking up the ball and holding it out. “I’m guessing this is yours?” he said.
He inspected the ball a little before handing it back to the stranger. This object was unfamiliar to Callum; it definitely didn’t look or feel like a Quaffle used in Quidditch games. It was bigger, but about the same weight as a quaffle ball, and had unusual patterns and grooves on it.
“What is this thing, anyway?” he asked as he returned it to the stranger. “I’m Callum, by the way. Might as well introduce myself.”
Perhaps that’s why he was completely unprepared when something hard and surprisingly fast smacked straight into his side.
“HUFF—!” he wheezed, doubling over as he clutched his side, the air knocked out of him. For a moment, he thought he had been punched by a ghost; the impact definitely felt like a fist. Turning his head to see what—or who—had hit him, he noticed a bright red ball lying in the grass beside him. As he glanced further, he saw a boy jogging over.
Callum got up, rubbing his side before picking up the ball and holding it out. “I’m guessing this is yours?” he said.
He inspected the ball a little before handing it back to the stranger. This object was unfamiliar to Callum; it definitely didn’t look or feel like a Quaffle used in Quidditch games. It was bigger, but about the same weight as a quaffle ball, and had unusual patterns and grooves on it.
“What is this thing, anyway?” he asked as he returned it to the stranger. “I’m Callum, by the way. Might as well introduce myself.”
Last edited by Callum Alistar on 22 Jul 2025, 00:28, edited 1 time in total.
“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” ― Oscar Wilde
iNPC: Atticus Maxfield
Come Out and Play
Avis dashed out of her final class and dashed down the steps two at a time, grinning idly at the first years she passed in the hallway. There was something inherently satisfying about being a second year, something wonderful about no longer being the dirt of the school. Second years knew spells, knew the school. Her step felt more confident, her stride more assured. She didn't even need to think about where she was going; her muscle memory had clicked the moment she had stepped foot on the grounds, and she now found herself crossing the threshold onto the grounds.
Sucking in a long breath of fresh air, Avis banished from her mind the slight urge to twirl. What lunatic - what 12-year and 20-day-old lunatic - would arbitrarily twirl in the middle of the grounds? Avis was twelve now, basically ancient at this point, and old people didn't do childish things like that. 12-year-olds were mature and wise. Avis truly had what seemed like all the knowledge in the world, especially compared to those young first years. Never mind that she had grown only one inch since last year, and was still shorter than a good number of them. It wasn't height, no, it was emotional maturity, and no one was wiser than a 12-year-and-2o-day -old girl.
Mature, wise Avis strode maturely and wisely through the grounds, barely paying attention to her surroundings. At least, until she saw a red ball streaking through the air and slamming into the side of another kid, causing her to wince. Both boys she assumed were first years, based on nothing except her desire to be older and wiser than them.
She headed over to the group that had gathered just in time to hear, “What is this thing, anyway?”
Now, as a wise and mature second year, Avis was absolutely thrilled to be able to share her knowledge with these poor first years.
"A football!" She beamed. "Muggle sport." She lowered her voice jokingly. "So much better than wizard sports." Really, Hogwarts should have been taking notes. They seemed to be intent on sports where either the main goal was maiming another student or flying a broom. Both terrible options. Even rugby, an awfully violent sport, had nothing on Quidditch, much less duelling.
Sucking in a long breath of fresh air, Avis banished from her mind the slight urge to twirl. What lunatic - what 12-year and 20-day-old lunatic - would arbitrarily twirl in the middle of the grounds? Avis was twelve now, basically ancient at this point, and old people didn't do childish things like that. 12-year-olds were mature and wise. Avis truly had what seemed like all the knowledge in the world, especially compared to those young first years. Never mind that she had grown only one inch since last year, and was still shorter than a good number of them. It wasn't height, no, it was emotional maturity, and no one was wiser than a 12-year-and-2o-day -old girl.
Mature, wise Avis strode maturely and wisely through the grounds, barely paying attention to her surroundings. At least, until she saw a red ball streaking through the air and slamming into the side of another kid, causing her to wince. Both boys she assumed were first years, based on nothing except her desire to be older and wiser than them.
She headed over to the group that had gathered just in time to hear, “What is this thing, anyway?”
Now, as a wise and mature second year, Avis was absolutely thrilled to be able to share her knowledge with these poor first years.
"A football!" She beamed. "Muggle sport." She lowered her voice jokingly. "So much better than wizard sports." Really, Hogwarts should have been taking notes. They seemed to be intent on sports where either the main goal was maiming another student or flying a broom. Both terrible options. Even rugby, an awfully violent sport, had nothing on Quidditch, much less duelling.
Avis Marlong | ”She won't cry or beg for help...she'll isolate from the world and fight her own demons so that nobody can throw it in her face later.” |
"The odds of hitting your target increase dramatically when you aim at it." Benji Marecos |
Come Out and Play
The ball was sent back in Silas’s direction, shortening the distance he would have to go to retrieve it. “Nice kick!” a boy yelled. Silas grinned. “Cheers, mate.” He watched apathetically as the ball crashed into some other lad before Silas had a chance to reach it and gain control over it. Given that Silas had been playing with the ball for a while now, the kid must’ve had pretty poor spatial awareness or something. Jogging the rest of the way over, Silas was soon standing near the boy as he held out the ball. “I’m guessing this is yours?” “Yep,” he responded simply, taking the ball and tucking it under his arm.
The first boy spoke again, and Silas nodded in confirmation to the question of bringing the ball — well, evidently he had, unless Hogwarts had some available, which was apparently unlikely given what the boy was saying about it being uncommon. Even then, it would have been surprising if they had had a team-specific ball like his, so, yeah, it was obvious that he had brought it with him from home. “Firs’ time?” he repeated, eyebrows raising. “The fuck do wizards do fer fun then, and ‘ow long ‘ave ya been ‘ere fer?” It was still hard to believe that they didn’t even have fucking football here. What kind of a place was this??? He sighed dramatically. “Sad world, this, innit?”
“What is this thing, anyway?” Silas laughed, but then… “Are ya jokin’?” His eyes searched the other’s. “Tell me you’re jokin’.” But he didn’t seem to be. Silas pinched the bridge of his own nose, closing his eyes briefly. “Fuckin’ ‘ell.” A girl showed up just then to answer the boy’s question. Thankfully, she actually knew what a football was — Silas didn’t realise that was so much to ask of wizards. The boy who had asked the question introduced himself as Callum. “Silas,” he responded, then turned to the girl. “D’you play footie a’ leas’? Since ya seem ter know wha’ it is.”
The first boy spoke again, and Silas nodded in confirmation to the question of bringing the ball — well, evidently he had, unless Hogwarts had some available, which was apparently unlikely given what the boy was saying about it being uncommon. Even then, it would have been surprising if they had had a team-specific ball like his, so, yeah, it was obvious that he had brought it with him from home. “Firs’ time?” he repeated, eyebrows raising. “The fuck do wizards do fer fun then, and ‘ow long ‘ave ya been ‘ere fer?” It was still hard to believe that they didn’t even have fucking football here. What kind of a place was this??? He sighed dramatically. “Sad world, this, innit?”
“What is this thing, anyway?” Silas laughed, but then… “Are ya jokin’?” His eyes searched the other’s. “Tell me you’re jokin’.” But he didn’t seem to be. Silas pinched the bridge of his own nose, closing his eyes briefly. “Fuckin’ ‘ell.” A girl showed up just then to answer the boy’s question. Thankfully, she actually knew what a football was — Silas didn’t realise that was so much to ask of wizards. The boy who had asked the question introduced himself as Callum. “Silas,” he responded, then turned to the girl. “D’you play footie a’ leas’? Since ya seem ter know wha’ it is.”
Reducio
@Aston Beckett @Callum Alistar @Avis Marlong
Note: I said it was Aston’s kick that hit Callum because it doesn’t really make sense otherwise given what Aston had already written. The conversation kind of assumes that Aston is pretty close by, too, although I can change that if you want. Also, I’d prefer if the mention of Silas’s clothes being red was removed because I never said that they were — he could be wearing a different coloured kit. Excited to have had all of you join
Note: I said it was Aston’s kick that hit Callum because it doesn’t really make sense otherwise given what Aston had already written. The conversation kind of assumes that Aston is pretty close by, too, although I can change that if you want. Also, I’d prefer if the mention of Silas’s clothes being red was removed because I never said that they were — he could be wearing a different coloured kit. Excited to have had all of you join
Second student character of Ruby Cazares | Staff account: Taros Quintero | iNPC: Valeriy Viktorovna Reznikov
Check out the Headliner!
Come Out and Play
Walking in the afternoon sun she noticed the small group. Being half blood she knew of football and what football was but had never taken an interest in it. I wonder if they are all playing? To think football is so popular it even has a magical following. setting her books down she watched them from a distance not wanting to interrupt a game if that's what was going on. The sun felt warm as she sat in the grass she recognized Silas but had no idea who anyone else was, still it was nice to have something to do and focus on that wasn't a literal dungeon. honestly who makes the form rooms inside a dungeon? she was having a hard time adjusting to being put in Slytherin, but it ultimately probably didn't matter where she was put. She watched the ball bounce and the practiced almost dance like movements of Silas. maybe I can learn a spell to get the ball to move, or at least make a real goalpost she thought to herself. She didn't know how to play the sport but figured it could be fun to help out, especially since she wanted to make friends anyway.
Come Out and Play
| IC date: 3rd of September | Interactions: @Silas Norwood, @Callum Alistar, & @Avis Marlong |
| English: #1a4174 | Thoughts: Italics |
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Oops... Aston thought as he watched the ball crashing into some boy he didn't know. Okay so maybe he wasn't as good at kicking as he thought he was, eh he'll be fine, The Hogwarts hospital wing is a magical place, literally and figuratively. The wounds and injury Aston gets from quidditch get healed quicker than any muggle could even imagine. Aston laughed at the first boy's surprise about the fact that this is his first time seeing people play football in Hogwarts. "Haha, it's my third year now. And sports wise we either throw spells at each other to see who gets knocked out first, race on brooms and hope we don't get knocked off by people or fire-breathing chickens etc, or quidditch".
Aston paused here to think about how to explain quidditch, since he learned about it it always felt quite simple, how can he explain it? "Which I guess is like basketball maybe? If there were three hoops and they faced the pitch instead of being straight up and down. And also there are two balls flying around trying to hit people, oh and a small gold ball that is worth 150 points if you catch it, it also ends the game. Weird sport now that I think about it. My family always watched American football back in the day, probably much safer compared to the dangers of wizard sports." Was this boy a muggle-born? Or maybe a half-blood that just never lived as a wizard, still, it was surprising to see people who didn't know about quidditch here.
Aston wasn't exactly as surprised as the others to hear that boy he accidentally hit ask what soccer was. Though when he heard the way the girl that showed up talk about soccer he had to say something. "Hey, quidditch is very fun, you can never replace the feeling of being in the air. " It wasn't until the others started introducing themselves that he remembered to do the same. "Oh yeah, my name's Aston, Ravenclaw. I don't exactly play soccer but I do at least know about it, my mom is a muggle.
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Come Out and Play
Callum looked between the three of them, feeling his brain slowly short-circuit as they all started talking about football. Growing up in an all-wizard household, Callum didn’t know much about Muggle sports—or anything Muggle, really. He had learned what Quidditch was before he even knew how to speak.
The second boy tried his best to explain what Quidditch was to Silas, making a comparison to a Muggle sport called basketball. Callum tilted his head slightly, adding another term to his list of Muggle words he didn’t quite understand.
“Though, you forgot to mention the ‘fall off your broom and almost die’ part,” Callum interjected.
He listened as the girl explained what the ball was and felt a twinge of offense at her comment about it being better than Quidditch. “Yeah, Quidditch is brilliant, actually,” he chimed in after the second boy. “Way more exciting than… kicking a ball around,” he muttered under his breath.
The boy introduced himself as Aston, explaining that he knew about football from his mother but had never actually played it.
Callum shifted awkwardly on his feet, glancing at the ball stuck under Silas’s arm. “I’ve never played football either,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “My whole family is pureblood, so Quidditch was kinda… everything growing up.”
He let out a quiet laugh, though it sounded a bit nervous. “It does look kind of fun, though… even if it’s not as exciting as flying a hundred feet in the air with Bludgers trying to take your head off.”
Reducio
Interacting with: @Silas Norwood, @Aston Beckett, @Avis Marlong
“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” ― Oscar Wilde
iNPC: Atticus Maxfield
Come Out and Play
"...race on brooms and hope we don't get knocked off by people or fire-breathing chickens etc, or quidditch". Avis curtly nodded her agreement to this statement, which clearly proved just how dumb the sports here were. She had to admit, though, watching students wacking giant metal balls at each other could never be called boring. Sort of a real-life Hunger Games, except with a little Loki ball running about and causing everyone trouble. There had been games that Avis had watched where half of the players had been knocked out. Not that she would admit that she had watched them.
“Though, you forgot to mention the ‘fall off your broom and almost die’ part,” Avis shot out her hand, gesturing to this wonderful point. "Thank you, yes, seriously!"
Mature, wise Avis cringed at the responses of the owner of the football. It wasn't that she disagreed, but since when had first years gotten so...vulgar? Last year, Avis had barely known what a curse word was, much less used them every four seconds. However, mature, wise Avis was definetly used to it at this point, and certainly hadn't slightly cringed whenever the kid talked.
“D’you play footie a’ leas’? Since ya seem ter know wha’ it is.” Shrugging, Avis gave him an apologetic look, adding her name to the growing collection. "Avis. And I don't play, but I know how to." More than she could say for the rest of Hogwarts. And being that football was a team sport, Avis could understand Silas' frustration.
@Silas Norwood, @Aston Beckett, @Callum Alistar
“Though, you forgot to mention the ‘fall off your broom and almost die’ part,” Avis shot out her hand, gesturing to this wonderful point. "Thank you, yes, seriously!"
Mature, wise Avis cringed at the responses of the owner of the football. It wasn't that she disagreed, but since when had first years gotten so...vulgar? Last year, Avis had barely known what a curse word was, much less used them every four seconds. However, mature, wise Avis was definetly used to it at this point, and certainly hadn't slightly cringed whenever the kid talked.
“D’you play footie a’ leas’? Since ya seem ter know wha’ it is.” Shrugging, Avis gave him an apologetic look, adding her name to the growing collection. "Avis. And I don't play, but I know how to." More than she could say for the rest of Hogwarts. And being that football was a team sport, Avis could understand Silas' frustration.
@Silas Norwood, @Aston Beckett, @Callum Alistar
Avis Marlong | ”She won't cry or beg for help...she'll isolate from the world and fight her own demons so that nobody can throw it in her face later.” |
"The odds of hitting your target increase dramatically when you aim at it." Benji Marecos |
Come Out and Play
Interactions: @Silas Norwood | @Aston Beckett | @Callum Alistar | @Avis Marlong
Mentions: @Teagan QuinnDate: 3rd September
Location: GroundsOutfit: x
- Come Out and Play -
Tilly had seen many strange things out the window since she had come to Hogwarts. People flying, people doing magic, four cats that looked like they were having a meeting... The list was long, and it had already contributed to her almost missing class once. But somehow, what had once been normal was the strangest. Football. It had only been three days, and she missed it like a starving person in the dessert without food in sight. Needless to say, she didn't remain standing by the window for long. She ran faster than possibly she ever had in her life, saying "Excuse me" after she pushed people out of the way. Sprinting out the doors, she let out a joyous cry of "FOOTBALL!" as she headed towards the group at maximum velocity. The collection of three boys and one girl had stopped (or at least slowed down) to chat, but she certainly wouldn't be. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed another girl watching from a distance.
She wouldn't stop to dwell on that, or stop for anything short of the apocalypse. Skilfully intercepting the ball (if you could even call it intercepting- she put her full momentum behind it and roughly grabbed the thing) from under the boys arm, she dropped it and ran, kicking it along as she went. Years of cul-de-sack football games had lead up to this moment. She didn't go far from the group, tracking a rough halfcircle around them. The aim was to steal the ball of course, but without any malicious intent. She just wanted a game, and it had been a whole FIVE DAYS without a football in sight. Three with the start of school, and two with driving to London and getting her school shopping done. Far too long, if you asked her.
She laughed like a maniac as she ran, guarding the football like a dragon with it's treasure hoard. "Come get it!" she called out.
Permission given from Silas's writer to snatch the football
Apologies for the short reply, please feel free to have your character come in and steal the ball back off Tilly although she will try to keep it away from you