Selina Skies
January 23, 2020 5:41 AM
Tumbleweed Trip by Selina Skies
The trip into Tumbleweed had been announced once the Quidditch team’s commitment to taking part in the fair had been confirmed. This had been some weeks prior to the event itself, allowing time for permission slips to be owled home. A brief outline of the safety measures that would be taken were included, as well as directions for parents to correspond via owl or Floo if they had any questions. Tumbleweed, as its name suggested, blew about with the wind, never fully staying in one place, thus it was quite impossible for the students to wander beyond the bounds of the town itself. The only ways in and out were via designated travel points. Additionally, the staff would be monitoring the different areas of the town, and students would be required to check in with the staff member in that area before moving onto another part.Over breakfast on the day of the trip, Selina gave a weather report for the town (a pleasant dry day in the high sixties - she defaulted to Farenheit, not aware this wouldn’t be common to everyone) and reminded them to be assembled and ready after lunch. The team was not performing until the afternoon, and going after lunch had been deemed a good way of managing things so that students wouldn’t need to spend money on food, as that wouldn’t necessarily be within everyone’s budget.
They were travelling down in two groups. The school had borrowed a… sort of car. It was car-like on the outside, but its capacity was above average and it drove itself. They were also opening up a Floo connection with a tourist office in the town. Given that the Floo could be disorienting for first time users, they had thought it prudent to offer any Muggleborns who weren’t sure about it a more familiar option - but recognised that wizarding children who were not familiar with cars might easily be alarmed or motion sick. They would all regroup upon arrival, so that people could pair up as they liked. Students were required to spend their time at least in pairs, and the staff would be noting who was with whom. They could swap partners or groups but they would have to inform a staff member.
The very literal ghost town of Tumbleweed had seen something of a shake up for the event. The main area of the town was the most untouched. It comprised a small shopping street which mostly sold tourist tat and which had the ‘saloon’ - a little rowdier at night and in possession of an evening liquor license but mostly a snacks and soda place by day. There were regular displays re-enacting old west life by the many resident ghosts in various venues along the street. Some of it was free to view street theatre, but there were a couple of historical buildings with more elaborate performances and a small museum which charged fees.
At one end of the town, there was a disused sports pitch. On an ordinary day, this was something of a curiosity. Whilst the locals had upheld the Statute of Secrecy, the melting pot culture was evident, with several odd fusion sports having arisen as people looked for new ways to amuse themselves and took influence from the Muggles around them. The ghosts would be providing demonstrations of these throughout the day, though their stadium was barely recognisable - the small town patch of dirt with its shoddy bleachers had been expanded (if not the playing areas itself then certainly the seating around it, and the number of vendors spillng out around it). There were also a couple more smaller pitches to the side, one with a batting range and various other games, and one where visiting teams would be putting on flying demonstrations. It was this smaller arena where the Sonora students would be showing off their skills, and whilst the main arena carried a ticketing charge and the games carried fees, the smaller field was free to enter.
Additionally, the old town hall was running a pop up market to expand the town’s offering in terms of shopping. Around the arena, Quidditch merchandise ruled, but in the hall was a wider range of trinkets - magical sweet stalls, illusions and novelty items. In anticipation of the Sonora students and their upcoming ball, a few clothes vendors had even decided to set up shop.
The students on the Quidditch team had about an hour between arrival and their show, and would have more time after it was complete. The others were encouraged to support their classmates by watching, but would be free to do as they chose.
OOC - welcome to Tumbleweed. We are hosting this on the gardens as we are still working on an ‘out of school’ space. The trip takes place over several hours so your character is certainly free to explore more than one location in that time. There are limits to how badly wrong the staff would let anything go, so if you’re thinking of causing trouble or getting into any, please run it by us. Members of the Quidditch team are free to make up their own details about what the display involves, again keeping it realistic to what the coach would have asked for someone of your character’s skill level.
Subthreads:Main Street
Ice cream! by Mara Morales with Leonor De Matteo, Jessica Hayles
"It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop." [Tag Heinrich] by Evelyn Stones with Heinrich Hexenmeister
Meeting the outlaws (tag Vlad and Tatiana) by Jean-Loup Arceneaux with Tatiana Vorontsova, Vladimir Brockert, Dorian Montoir
Uncle Killian or Mr. Row? by Killian Row
A fun day out (Jasmine) by Peyton O'Malley with Jasmine Delachene
Sports Grounds
Show me your skillz! by Anya Delachene with Freddie Zauberhexen
Meeting the family, part II (tag Professor Brooding) by Jean-Loup Arceneaux with Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
I got nothing to do today but smile by Beau Tate
Town Hall
I'm a fan of your company. [Tag Zara.] by Felipe De Matteo with Zara Jackson
Pre-game with me? [Tag Ness.] by Evelyn Stones
Arrival by Heinrich Hexenmeister
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Selina Skies
Tumbleweed Trip
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1
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Jean-Loup Arceneaux
February 04, 2020 8:08 PM
Meeting the family, part II (tag Professor Brooding) by Jean-Loup Arceneaux
Dorian was a good friend. And he had friend responsibilities. Namely, watching Tatiana in her flying display. Given that this would be with an entire group of Sonorans, Jean-Loup was understandably not particularly willing to join him for this, although he did promise to watch the display from elsewhere in the stands. It was still with a painful stab of regret that they parted, especially as it wasn’t possible to accompany it with any appropriate gesture of farewell.Still, one happy coincidence awaited Dorian as he made his way into the Sonora group in the stands, in the form of the person who’d drawn that slot at supervision. He gave Professor Brooding a cheerful smile, and settled in to alternate between watching the display and watching the familiar blond head he could easily see across the small stadium.
When it was over, he managed to catch Professor Brooding.
“You want to come meet him?” he asked quietly, eyes shining with excitement. She needed to sort the remaining students, make sure they all got where they wanted to go, or at least re-paired up, but they agreed that Dorian and his boyfriend would wait somewhere around the edge of the small stadium for her to come and find them. Dorian departed, wondering whether this was a tacit permission for him not to pair up with a school friend, or whether she was just distracted, or assuming he was still technically ‘with’ one of the peers that were still milling around.
He found Jean-Loup midway round the stadium, each of them having left from their nearest exit and walked in opposite directions until they met back up.
“Salut,” Dorian grinned, still feeling slightly surreal at being able to actually see his boyfriend. Especially as a glance around revealed that no one else was really walking round this area of the stadium right now… He noticed Jean-Loup notice this too. Dorian hesitated for a moment, wondering how to ask if that meant they could be more affectionate because he was sure it was going to sound awkward however he said it. But he got an answer without having to put forth the question, in the form of Jean-Loup’s arms under his, the taller boy standing straight to pull Dorian’s toes off the floor and bring him up to kissing height.
“I missed you,” he murmured, setting Dorian down but keeping his arms around him.
“I missed you too,”, Dorian replied, deciding not to tease that they’d seen each other less than an hour ago. They hadn’t seen each other like this yet, after all. He leant up for another kiss.
“So… you want me to magic us up some privacy or..?” Jean-Loup asked, wanting very much to get lost in the act of kissing Dorian, but not convinced that was the best idea without a little help from salvio hexia.
“Ah. No. Not yet,” Dorian corrected himself, “I asked Professor Brooding to come meet you.” This had been on the cards for the day, so should not have come as a surprise, though Jean-Loup still half-relinquished his grip on Dorian, glancing around them.
“She’ll be a little while…” Dorian explained, his tone somewhat playful, sliding himself back into Jean-Loup’s arms. Jean-Loup considered this. The rapidly diminishing rational part of his brain suggested he should keep his hands and his lips to himself, until they’d safely met The Teacher. Even if she knew and approved of their relationship, he didn’t imagine that witnessing someone giving vigorous tongue to her favourite student was something she needed or wanted to see. Or that he particularly wanted to be witnessed doing. But on the other hand, his boyfriend was here, warm and real, his hips under Jean-Loup’s hands, and every second that he waited to kiss him again felt wasted. He wasn’t sure he could hold out for minutes, possibly plural. His brain supplied some fuzzy, half assurance that he’d keep an eye out, even as he closed them in order to sink back into the world that was only made up of him, and Dorian, and the sensations they created between them.
The kisses were briefer and tenser than normal. Twig snaps, distant voices, just a vague sense of unease… These brought his attention back to the world repeatedly. They did have to break off, as hurrying footsteps really did come closer and closer, someone choosing to pass by that way to get to the nearest entrance. Jean-Loup and Dorian walked too, the opposite way, in order to look like they were going somewhere, and not just hanging out in the back of a stadium, which might have looked suspect. As soon as they had fully crossed paths and were out of sight, Jean-Loup leant back against the new stretch of stadium wall, slouching a little to make it easier for their mouths to meet when he pulled Dorian back against him, although he did break off to check their continued privacy more often than the mere need for oxygen demanded. And, as he did so, there was a figure in the edge of his field of vision. Dorian noticed too, and they sprang guiltily apart, though Jean-Loup was sure the person was near enough to have seen what they were up to, even if they weren’t all that close yet. He mumbled an expletive.
“Is that your professor?” he asked, more or less hoping the answer was ‘yes’ in spite of the mild embarrassment that would lead to. He subconsciously shifted to shield Dorian, debating whether just walking very fast in the opposite direction was the best course of action if the answer was ‘no’.
“Yes,” Dorian confirmed. As she got closer, he smiled at her. “Hello Professor. This is my boyfriend,” he added, although he suspected that was rather obvious from the fact she had been told to come and meet said person, as well as what she had just witnessed. “Jean-Loup, Professor Brooding,” he introduced them. Yet again, Dorian had to be thankful for the fact that, although he certainly suspected he looked slightly embarrassed right now, he didn’t blush. A glance at Jean-Loup revealed that certainly wasn’t true for him. His cheeks were rather red as he offered a polite bow and a rather awkward “Please to meet you.”
13
Jean-Loup Arceneaux
Meeting the family, part II (tag Professor Brooding)
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Jean-Loup Arceneaux
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
February 05, 2020 12:27 PM
You and me both. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Some people were not so lucky as to have duty in Tumbleweed that allowed them to see the flying exhibition but Mary was and she was exceedingly happy about it. Watching her beautiful, lovely students perform, the glee on their faces, the cheers and whoops from the crowd urging them on . . . the whole thing was just too wonderful to miss. Of course, not everyone minded missing the show, but Mary would have been very sad about it. Her happiness was increased by Dorian approaching her as well. She was momentarily surprised to see him without The Boyfriend but probably shouldn't have been; Dorian was nothing if not thoughtful, followed by private about such things. If Boyfriend preferred some amount of discretion, Dorian would not hesitate to acquiesce. At the same time, there was a good chance Dorian was happy for some discretion as well. Mary understood that to a greater degree than she was pleased by, and didn't ask about Boyfriend's absence when Dorian approached.She agreed to his suggestion that they meet afterwards, committing the location to mind as she slipped off with an apologetic glance to remind a couple of beginner students that they should definitely not try to see how many of them could fit on a broomstick at once. When her duties - and the students - were no longer in need of her attendance, Mary made her way to the designated meeting place. She couldn't help smoothing the front of her dress - Sonora green because school spirit was important - and adjusting her matching hat, or fiddling with her hair that hung, now cropped short, from underneath it. She'd worn makeup today, more than she usually did for class because there was nothing quite so awful as a faceful of makeup dissolving off your face into your cauldron, and moved her lips around to ensure proper lipstick coverage. It was all futile; Mary looked as lively and bright and safe as ever and a wrinkle-free bodice would not impact that enough to matter. Probably.
The corridor where they were to meet was streaming with light, the sort that comes in sideways from openings in the stadium even when the sun is not yet setting, and Mary was looking around admiring it when she noticed a set of figures - one more familiar than the other - doing . . . Oh. She believed the appropriate Old People Term was tonsil Quidditch, but that was a bit crass and neither of them was exactly playing keeper.
She looked down politely, smiling to herself despite a blush that crept across her cheeks. She felt very much as though she wasn't supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to be seeing this, and also wasn't supposed to be allowing it. There was probably a school rule about making out with people, but she wasn't entirely sure. It wasn't as if the staff could stop anyone from making out with people if they really wanted to anyway, and Boyfriend wasn't even a student at Sonora. Or did that make it worse?
Mary kept her eyes politely averted until she was close enough to be noticed - only a few steps closer - and the two boys jumped away from each other. It wasn't as if Mary herself had never been caught making out with someone, although she was pretty sure she and Tabitha had mostly managed to be good about that, and she didn't really mind too much. Truth be told, there was a time and place to be caught making out. Weird as it sounded, to be caught by someone who wasn't going to make it awful sort of made the whole thing more exciting because now it was That Thing That Happened and everyone could laugh about it later. In Mary's case, it had been her and a certain veela, and several members of a local centaur herd, but she thought it probably wasn't that much different to be with a bunch of human beings either.
Sure, seeing her student - particularly Dorian - kissing someone was a bit awkward but that was fine; there wasn't anything wrong with kissing between two parties able to consent and Boyfriend was an adult, and Dorian nearly was. He was certainly capable of consenting to tonsil Quidditch if he wished to play, although she wouldn't recommend "beater" just because that felt like a good place for the metaphor to fall apart. She spent a moment wondering what role quaffles, bludgers, and snitches played before deciding firmly that it was indeed a good place for the metaphor to fall apart.
As Mary drew closer, she saw the boys shared a short exchange that Mary couldn't hear - although she suspected she wouldn't have understood it regardless - and Boyfriend looked somewhat relieved by whatever Dorian told him, though only mildly. He looked very much like he had in the picture Dorian showed her, and also very different. That was to be expected. In that moment, Jean-Loup, the poor fellow, looked like he would probably like to disapparate on the spot. Finally, she drew nearer still and stopped, smiling softly at them both, happy that her blush had resolved into a happy glow instead.
"Enchantée," Mary replied in passable French, smiling as Dorian introduced them. She had spent enough time practicing phrases from various languages that she actually sounded pretty accurate, which was exciting. Jean-Loup bowed and she wasn't exactly sure what etiquette demanded of her in that situation because she was an adult but also so was he, but also she was an authority figure, but what did that matter? So she dipped her head and slightly bent as if she knew what a curtsy was supposed to look like. "It's a pleasure to meet you, as well. Dorian's told me how wonderful you are, so I think that must mean it's true," she beamed at them both, speaking with her usual measured, easy pace and clear enunciation. It was habit at this point after having worked with so many speakers of different languages over the years. "Did you like the flying show?"
22
Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
You and me both.
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Jean-Loup Arceneaux
February 05, 2020 8:07 PM
That is how meetings tend to go by Jean-Loup Arceneaux
The teacher approached. ‘Glamorous’ was the first word that sprung to Jean-Loup’s mind. Okay, ‘glamorous’ and ‘short.’ She was definitely more finely turned out than he expected for someone who spent all day with their hands in beetle eyes and so on. Though, he supposed it was her day off. Perhaps she liked being well-dressed on those to compensate. Speaking of compensating… Even if you counted the hat, she was still several inches smaller than he was. This was a general trend with everyone Dorian knew - the room-mate was a similar height to Dorian himself, who was adorably pocket-sized, and Tatiana and the teacher were both smaller. He wondered if Dorian had gravitated towards smaller people to make himself feel bigger, or whether it had just happened by accident. Either way, hanging out with them all was starting to feel a little bit like being the only Beater on a team entirely composed of Seekers. He hoped he wasn’t looming.“Thank you,” Jean-Loup smiled, as the professor said she had heard good things about him. And also that if Dorian said it must be true. “Yes?” he added,, “He is very honest.”
“J'ai bien compris?” he checked with Dorian, who gave him an encouraging smile and a nod.
“Sorry. I just… confirm that I understand correctly,” he added to Professor Brooding, not wanting her to think they were exchanging secrets of any kind. “My English is… slow and bad,” he added, though this was offered without much embarrassment. It was just a fact. He just hoped she’d be forgiving for anything he messed up.
“It is very nice,” he nodded, when she asked his opinion of the flying display. Dorian had mentioned that the team was not particularly experienced, and he had gone more out of loyalty than expecting to be impressed. He thought it was a good job they hadn’t sought competition with his school, because he was pretty sure that even the B team at L’Institut would have flattened the Sonorans in an instant. But what was the point in saying such a thing? It was crass, and what pride was there to be derived in the fact that one could easily thrash a smaller, weaker rival? That was much more Matthieu’s style, and the kind of thing he derived a sense of importance from. “Sonora… helps new people with flying? People who didn’t fly already. That is nice. And Tatiana flies very well,” he added loyally, even though he could easily have given her half a dozen pointers. The Seekers were actually halfway decent, more than that in fact, but he wasn’t sure he could point out that they were without sounding like he was condemning the rest of them, and it was Tatiana that he was clearly supposed to pick out for praise and attention.
“You also enjoyed?” he asked politely, remembering his faux-pas with the friends, and trying to imagine this was a conversation not an interview, in spite of the differences in their status.
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Jean-Loup Arceneaux
That is how meetings tend to go
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Jean-Loup Arceneaux
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
February 07, 2020 9:25 PM
Literally, yes. But metaphorically? Also yes. by Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Mary waved a hand, dismissing Jean-Loup's comments about his English. "The language itself is slow sometimes, and I should apologize for not knowing any other," she said, smiling softly. She was not one to say that English was bad and truly hated when others did, as it was not a hard jump from passing a value judgment on English to passing a value judgment on French, or German, or Mermish. As much as she loathed merpeople, she wouldn't call their language "bad." It just was. Saying English was slow, however, was like saying German was rhythmic, or French was round. It just was.She nodded along, agreeing that Sonora let new fliers participate, and that Tatiana had done well. "I did," she confirmed, smiling. "You played Quidditch too, right? So you're either liking the small town charm, or you're surprised at the small town . . . smallness." Mary's eyes twinkled with understanding. Sonora was small - not that most wizarding schools were much bigger - and Tumbleweed was hardly a town at all. Almost literally, all things considered.
"You've met Tatiana, then?" Mary said, not sure what the best direction to turn the conversation was. She wanted to stay on topics that Jean-Loup would be comfortable with in English, that Dorian wouldn't mind, and that they could all enjoy. She also wanted to make absolutely sure that, whatever else he thought, Jean-Loup left with the firm, unshakable understanding that Mary was for Dorian. As long as Dorian was for Jean-Loup, and vice versa, so would she be. "Dorian hasn't been able to stop smiling since he knew you'd be visiting," she said, smiling at her student. "I'm sure he's been torn between showing you off and keeping you to himself."
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Mary Brooding-Hawthorne
Literally, yes. But metaphorically? Also yes.
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