#event. 02

[elvanity]

open event starter

Emma had known this would be a bad idea from the moment her father presented the tickets at the weekly family dinner. Her perfectly reasonable hesitations were forgotten in the excitement, although her mother later pulled her aside and assured her that they wouldn’t be upset if she didn’t go. Despite every instinct inside her screaming at her to take the out, she hadn’t. She gave her mom a fake smile and said she’d be fine.

It wasn’t fine. There was a brief time after their portkey had landed that she thought it would be fine. The other attendees paid her no heed and all of the players were already sequestered in their changing rooms, likely going over strategy or being briefed on some of those heightened security measures the BIQL had advertised. She knew that from experience. The journalists also hadn’t noticed but then that changed. A wizard with a camera and a sneer spotted her as she walked through an alley of vendors; he called her name, snapping a picture of her startled expression before he started to approach. She only half-heard the introduction and questions he began peppering at her, the fight or flight instincts rearing to life inside her head. She chose flight, turning tail and speed-walking away from the journalist… and right into someone else.

[rjluqin]

open event starter

Remus had regretted it the moment he applied to the opening in the paper. The Cackling Stump wasn’t serving at the national cup but plenty of other bars were and they needed extra hands. They were also willing to pay extra for those extra hands. Whenever he applied to a new job, he was always worried that his secret would be found out. Yet the vendor accepted his application, he passed their laughable security checks, and here he was -- serving drinks in whether that could almost be called hot and humid. Almost. Sighing as nothing came out of the tap, he turned to the person who’d ordered the drink with a shrug. “Sorry, we’re out. You want something else?”

[rodolphos]

private event starter for @diisgustednoiise​

Rodolphus had never understood the hype around Quidditch. Not when he was young, sitting on his father’s knee as the old man discussed the latest game with his friends. Not when he was in school when house pride was synonymous with house team pride. Not when he was older, listening to old schoolmates talk about how they’d been on the team and if only they could’ve gone professional. Not when his staff got into arguments over teams in the WWN lunch room. Yet because he such an important member of wizarding society -- their heir of a sacred family, the owner of one of the biggest media companies -- he was expected to be there. And he coped those expectations by drinking.

Maybe it wasn’t the wisest choice, pouring himself a glass a goblin-made cognac in his family’s box before the match had even started. Certainly not when there were expectations from other sources on him. But this wasn’t the Easter Festival and any plans brewing weren’t going to require the precision of sobriety on his part. He brought his glass to his lips, enjoying a guilt free sip as the door to the box opened. Considering it was the family box, it was unsurprising to see Rabastan in the door frame. 

“Want a drink?” he asked, gesturing with his glass.

[talinovs]

private event starter for @mcmincrva​

Minerva wasn’t the first co-worker he’d spotted today. The grounds were crawling with Ministry workers and more than a few Wizengamot had shown up. Most seemed to care more about appearances than the game, perhaps a consequence their advanced ages. He may have been older than all of them but his mind, along with his body, remained in far better shape. He was excited when he spotted her though -- their conversation in the Quidditch shop coming back to him. “Minerva,” he said, a welcoming grin on his face. “Fancy seeing you here. I don’t think I ever got to chance to ask what your favorite teams are. Any of them on pitch right now?”

[arabellafiqq]

private event starter for @fcnwick​

Arabella had long felt that she’d missed the hype for Quidditch. When she was a child, before the Ilvermorny letter had never come, her parents had taken her to games. The excitement her peers felt had been contagious. But after her lack of magic was confirmed, her parents stopped taking her to games. She’d never had a flying lesson or a house team to root for. It just hadn’t been a part of her life until Miriam was. Her late wife had loved the sport. They’d gone to so many games together, Arabella enjoying it because Miriam was. And then, when Miriam was gone, she stopped going. It still held little interest to her and, had it not been for Dumbledore’s request, she would be at home with her cats. Since she was here though, she wasn’t going to mope about it. There were plenty of things to enjoy besides the game -- the company chief among them.

“I hope the Prophet’s letting you enjoy this between all the pictures,” she said to Benjy, having spotted and approached the fellow Order member. “If you enjoy it, that is. Don’t you?”

[elvanity]

private event starter for @macwalden​​

She had her head down, hunched over a table someone had set up out near the food and drink booths. Emma had no desire to enter the arena -- to sit with her family and watch the game. It had been a mistake to come. When her mother had given her the out, she should’ve taken. But since she hadn’t, here she was picking at a plate of chips with a barely-touched pint beside her. With her hair covering her face, she’d hoped no one would recognize and bother her. With her unwelcoming body language, she’d hoped no one would bother her even if they didn’t recognize. Yet she felt the table jolt and her dark eyes shot up, meeting the familiar face of Walden MacNair. Merlin was it strange to see him in broad daylight and not under Merlin Rouge’s neon strobe lights. Still, she wasn’t thrilled to see him.

“Didn’t notice the table was taken?” she asked pointedly.

[rodolphos]

private event starter for @ailajohnson​

Just as he was here, so were many of his employees -- particularly the radio personalities. Perhaps some of them were here because they enjoyed the game, unlike Rodolphus; if they didn’t, then they were here because this was the only thing people would be talking about tomorrow even if everything went swimmingly. Not being a regular listener of Aila’s show, he wasn’t sure what camp she fell into but wondered when he spotted her among the crowd. He approached her, footsteps deadened by the roaring crowd as one team scored a goal. “Afternoon, Miss Johnson,” he greeted with a nod. Blue eyes glanced to side, catching one player nearly get knocked off his broom by a bludger. “Are you a fan of all of this?”

[talinovs]

private event starter for @drfawley​

The match had only just begun and it was far too early to predict which team would win, the points from the chasers being roughly equal. Of course, fans from either team would tell you that theirs would wind. They’d list the stats of the players and elaborate on the strategies behind past wins to convince you why they were right. And as soon as you were done talking to them, a person from the other side would launch into an equally convincing argument. As someone rooting for neither team -- just interested in a good match -- he took both with a grain of salt. Weaving his way through the crowds, ducking large banners, jumping spectators, and the aforementioned chatty fans, he spotted a familiar face leaning against the railing. Although not well acquainted with Daniel, he seemed as good as anyone to approach. “Fawley,” he greeted, appearing at the auror’s side with a close-lipped smile. “Are you rooting for either team?”