Fandom Octowizard Tournament // Wizarding World // RP Thread

[Aviator]

​

Welcome, welcome, to the first-ever (and hopefully not the last) Octowizard Tournament, the grandest show on land or by sea! Students, please proceed with caution if you dare enter your name into the Goblet of Fire, as these tasks are not for the faint of heart. For the first time in history, the eight international wizarding schools—Hogwarts (Scotland), Beauxbatons (France), Castelobruxo (Brazil), Durmstrang (Scandinavia), Ilvermorny (North America), Mahoutokoro (Japan), Uagadou (Uganda), and Koldovstoretz (Russia)—are uniting to hold a magical Olympics among their best and brightest pupils, and you’re invited! Glory and gold, pleasure and pain, magic and mayhem, dreams and danger will abound. The Octowizard is a magical spectacle the likes of which the Wizarding World has never before seen, and no one is sitting on the sidelines for it. Only one will win, and some may lose everything.

​

Unlike previous Triwizard Tournaments, in which one school would host the whole tournament and house the accumulative populations of all competing schools, only a committee of three student representatives from each school will be attending the Octowizard Tournament in person. Those three students are selected at the discretion of their individual headmasters. From among those three, the Goblet of Fire shall select one name to be the champion of his or her school. The two unchosen students shall have front-row seats to spectate the tournament, and will serve as the champion’s secondaries in the tragic (but not unlikely) event that a champion is unable to continue the tournament. And who knows, perhaps the Goblet of Fire might just call for a team challenge.

​

One other important deviation from the original Triwizard Tournaments is that there will be eight tasks altogether, and each school will play host to a different task. Each school’s crew—consisting of the three aforementioned students plus one chaperoning professor—will get an unprecedented opportunity to sight-see as they travel the world on an all-expenses-paid trip. However, it would be beneficial for competing students to keep in mind that classes will be scheduled regularly amidst the tournament, and an ample decline in one’s grades may result in removal from the tournament. Since these challenges will prove a test to a competitor’s physical, mental, and emotional maturity, the Goblet of Fire will only accept the names of fifth- through seventh-year students. Any further questions? No? Well, then. Let’s get started.

​

Rules:
- Only one champion per RPer. Including professors and secondaries, you may have up to four characters total.
- Only five characters with a special magical status (Animagus, Metamorphmagus, Veela, werewolf, etc.) will be allowed, since they are exceptionally rare.
- It’s not necessary that you’ve read or seen the entire Harry Potter series to join this RP, but it would help if you have at least a little background knowledge. Those of us who are avid fans will help you out with the rest of the universe lore, if need be.
- As aforementioned, competing students are between fifth- to seventh-year. Therefore, upon the start of the school year (and the RP), their ages must fall between fifteen and seventeen years old.
- Just for the record, Beauxbatons is not an all-girls school, and Durmstrang is not all boys, as portrayed in the movie.
- Please do not complain because “Harry” and “Dumbledore” aren’t here. In this AU universe roleplay, none of the canon characters exist. EVERYONE PLAYS OC’S.
- Reservations will be upheld for 72 hours, by which time the entire form should be complete.
- While characters are allowed to be complete asses to each other in the roleplay, OOC bullying is not tolerated. Hate the character, not the RPer.
- This is advanced, so I would like 3+ paragraphs per post with proper grammar and spelling. The occasional excuse of low muse is understandable, but this must remain occasional.
- Please post on the RP thread at least once every two weeks. Don't make me have to hunt you down for a reply.
- You must have an imagination! Create plots, play NPCs and side characters, keep the story rolling. I hate having to make everything happen on my own.
- Use faceclaims, and no anime pictures for your charries!

​

​

 

[Aviator]

Vasu Saini // "Shiva's Heir" // Male // 5th Year // Koldovstoretz Champion // Parselmouth​

As usual when Vasu Saini was drinking, he was in a good mood.
He sat alone in the last car of the train that was set to depart from Grand Central Terminal in New York City any minute now and whisk the competitors for the Octowizard Tournament to their first destination, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Two hours before, another train had left for Ilvermorny, this one containing the American school’s regular batch of students. They were getting a head start so that the first-years could be sorted into their Houses and the Headmaster could administer a Welcome Speech prior to the arrival of the foreign delegations, at which time Ilvermorny would transition into the tournament’s Opening Ceremony. Altogether, this train serviced only thirty-two passengers—three students and one professor from the eight competing schools.
Vasu contentedly basked in the velvet-upholstered silence, letting his head fall back against the seat, lazily swirling his sazerac in one hand. He had never seen a train so empty, nor one so luxurious. The only occasions he’d ever taken a train were in Mumbai or Delhi, where people were squeezed together in long benches that lined the sides of the vehicle, and others who couldn’t find a seat were forced to stand in the center, grasping latches that hung from the ceiling for balance. The trains always smelled funny, too, like cigarette smoke and cheap perfume and stale piss. But the seats on this train were cushioned and cozy and red, gilded in gold. An aroma like pumpkin pasties and shiny new things suffused the air, undercut by the bittersweet tang of rye whiskey from the cocktail that Vasu had introduced into the compartment.
His mother, grandmother, and little sister—Ekta, looking cute as a button in her tutu and pink ribbons, as always—had come to see him off at Grand Central Station, arriving with a solid hour to spare before the train departed. His family often did that for functions, as if getting there first meant more time to establish dominance. While getting up an extra hour earlier had been a pain and Vasu had wanted to leave at a normal time, knowing that the train wouldn’t be going anywhere until eleven o’clock, there was no arguing with Aditi once her mind was made. Vasu was fairly certain that her reasoning was the sooner he was gotten rid of, the better. Knowing her, the women of his family were probably already back at the hotel, so that Aditi could soak up one last morning at the sauna before their noon checkout time.
As it turned out, Vasu was happy to have arrived early. He’d been the very first student to board the train, and with no witnesses around, he’d made a pit stop at the bar car. Half-expecting to be turned away immediately by the bartender, he humored himself by asking for a vodka gimlet, and without inquiring after any verification of age, the woman had given him a brisk nod and wordlessly made the drink, depositing a glass so full of clear liquid on the bartop that Vasu had to immediately take a sip to keep himself from spilling it. He’d downed the one at the bar, asked for three more so that he wouldn’t have to return to the bar car when it was potentially more crowded, and carrying as many drinks as he could hold in two hands and under the crook of one elbow, had hastened away from the scene of the crime, grinning like a fool. Drinks were expensive in America, but goddamn, they were delicious. And effective, too.
Now, sitting alone in the train’s last, vacant car and munching from a plate of too-sweet shortbread cookies, he stared out the window at the beehive of activity that was Grand Central Station. Families hugged, people toted suitcases, ate hot dogs from red baskets as they waited for their trains. Everything in this shithole of a city was suddenly almost pretty, the lights more iridescent. He watched an altercation with amused interest as two burly men jabbed fingers in each other’s faces, their mouths moving in wide, soundless shapes and chests puffed out like roosters.
Vasu jumped in surprise as the train abruptly lurched beneath him with a metallic clang, skidding only a short distance before shuddering to another stop. The sazerac in his hand irritably lapped at the sides of the glass. Having heard of the famed American drink and knowing that he liked whiskey, he’d been looking forward to ordering one ever since this summer, when the tournament’s first stop had been announced as Ilvermorny. He’d just never imagined that it would be his first day at the school—technically, not even at the school yet—that he’d get his underaged hands on one.
The train slowly pulled forward again, rocking gently from side to side as it found its rhythm, like an uncertain dancer coming onto the floor halfway through a song. Vasu took another sip of his drink, fighting off a cringe at the overt taste of alcohol—unlike an old-fashioned, the whiskey in the sazerac was not smothered by sugar—and returned his attention to the arguing men. Navy-clad police officers were warily beginning to approach the scene, one of them reaching for a strange dark device that she talked into. When suddenly the police officer was knocked off-balance, stumbling a step and glaring over her shoulder at the offender. A monochromatic blur shot past her, running fast and low to the ground, pumping with one arm as they dragged a suitcase behind them with the other.
Vasu realized belatedly that the running figure had to have been running for this train, the Ilvermorny train, as that was the only one currently pulling out of the station. Smiling at the thought that one of his competitors might be eliminated just by missing the train, Vasu watched with interest, taking another bite of biscuit from his plate of refreshments like an entertained spectator at a movie. The train was moving slowly but steadily picking up speed. The runner was racing alongside the caboose, but the nearest door belonged to Vasu’s car. Seeming to realize that the train was about to outpace him, the man leapt, snagging the gleaming silver handle in his free hand. He pulled and pushed at the door, shoulders juddering with force, but it was locked. Then he pounded at the door, frantic bursts of sound for someone on the inside to let him in. The man smeared a hand across the glass window and peered inside the circle, spotting Vasu. Making eye contact with him and mouthing something unintelligible, the man knocked again, this time louder and faster.
Seriously debating whether to let him in—if this guy couldn’t get his ass to the station at a reasonable time, that wasn’t Vasu’s problem—Vasu finally sighed at the inconvenience of having to get up and relented. He stood, drink still in hand as he had nowhere to conveniently set it down without it possibly spilling. And immediately caught the seat in front of him, because between the stomach-lurching speed of the train and the three and a half drinks in his system, the world was spinning in a delightful way. Vasu leaned into the feeling. He’d polish off this last drink and, in a much better mood than he would be sober, maybe he’d go meet some of the other students to scope out the competition and start a card game. Best to catch a glimpse of their strengths and weaknesses before the tournament.
Vasu went to the door, which was a pull, and tugged the handle. The man and his single bag of luggage immediately spilled into the car, bowling into Vasu and catching one of his shoulders for balance. Of course as fate would have it, it was the arm that Vasu was using to hold his drink, which got between them and splashed. But it was not his immediate concern, which was not tumbling backward and cracking the back of his head. However, a strong hand tightened around his wrist, halting his out-of-control motion with a sharp tug that caused Vasu’s head to snap forward. He was disoriented, and the front of his elegant crimson Sherwani was soaked in whiskey—Aditi would kill him if she were here and then resurrect him and kill him again, once for drinking and again for staining some of his best clothes—but he was no longer in danger of falling. He glared wordlessly at the man, having no words to describe the indignation he’d suffered on this stranger’s behalf.
The man was actually closer to a boy, appearing only a few years older than Vasu. He wore a white leather jacket, thick shoulder-length hair raining around his head in a dark cloud. Breathless with exertion, he chuckled nervously and let go of Vasu’s wrist. “Sorry for the showy entrance. Thank you for letting me in.” He bent swiftly and picked up the suitcase he’d dropped, discarding it on an empty seat. Appraising Vasu with intelligent black eyes that gleamed like a raven’s, the older boy smiled and bowed slightly, an errant lock of hair falling in front of his face as he clasped his hands at chest height. It was the proper, formal greeting in Indian culture, done for Vasu’s benefit because this stranger clearly was not Indian. The gentle curve to his eyes and heavy brows made Vasu guess that he was Thai or Vietnamese, but then, he had trilled those R’s in sorry perhaps a little too much to be either.
Vasu did not return the bow, eyeing the long-haired boy scornfully. He was slightly drunk, and rude words jockeyed on his tongue, too many to decide on one line. His tense silence seemed to discomfit the older boy, whose face suddenly blanched in alarm.
“My apologies for making assumptions,” the other wizard said quickly. “Do you not speak English?”
Feeling like his intelligence was being gradually more insulted the longer this interaction went, Vasu looked at him darkly and bit out, “Doesn’t everyone? I’d be a lil’ bit up shit’s creek in America if I didn’t, haan?” Born in India and schooled in Russia, Vasu spoke English with only the smallest trace of an accent, as Aditi had ensured he’d gotten the best tutors that money could buy. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go clean the whiskey out of my clothes.” That you spilled, was the implied subtext.
The other boy’s face glowed with a smile that reminded Vasu of gentle candlelight. “Ah, no worries.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a short, dark wand with a distinct crook in it. Before Vasu could say that he didn’t need help, the stranger flicked his wrist and the spilled liquid evaporated thoroughly, to the point that there wasn’t even a stain left behind. Drunk or not, Vasu was a skilled charmcaster, and he noticed immediately that not a single utterance of a spell had crossed the other boy’s lips, which were once again curled in a smile. To another person the expression might look friendly, but to Vasu it looked smug, like a cat with a canary in its mouth. “All better now! No harm done.”
While Vasu fumbled for another excuse to extricate himself from the car, the stranger looked up, his head tilted to one side, and locked eyes with Vasu. “Was that whiskey, you said?” The words were a question, but from the amused knowing in his voice, Vasu understood it more as an observation. He inwardly cursed himself for being a fool and admitting that he’d been drinking. “Are you sure drinking is a good idea on the eve of the tournament? You look a little flushed, and I’ll bet the clothes on my back that you’re not yet a seventh-year. Maybe take it easy on the alcohol from now on and no one has to know. Well,” amended the stranger thoughtfully, “no one else.”
“No one else will find out,” Vasu growled, “or you’ll be the first one I go for in the tournament.”
“So fierce, I love it! Like a little ankle-biting chihuahua. Rest assured, I feel thoroughly threatened, and your secret’s safe with me. We all have those,” the older boy chirruped merrily. He raked his gaze over Vasu in his now-dry Sherwani again. “I love your scarf! The Red Court, right? At Koldovstoretz? You must be on their team.”
Vasu resisted the urge to paw at the red-and-gray-striped scarf around his neck, which, in his enthusiasm to acquire alcohol, he’d forgotten to take off now that he was out of the relative American cold. “Yeah. Yeah, I am,” Vasu said, hiking his chin up defiantly, doing his own appraisal of this new opponent. He had a lean and hungry look, like a slinking jungle cat licking its chops before it pounces. White leather jacket, rumpled t-shirt underneath, black leather pants, and heeled boots that leveled him eye-to-eye with Vasu. He was wearing so much leather that the effect was slick and a little wicked, making him look like the kind of boy who would cover up condemning evidence of a raging house party by burning the house down. It created a sharp incongruence with his sickeningly-sweet demeanor, like a discordant piano note. Vasu had been brought up in a household where incongruent things were unacceptable, and typically sinful in nature.
Sensing that the other wizard was gearing up for another verbal assault, Vasu beat him to the punch, firing off a question of his own like a Bat Bogey Hex. “What about you? What school are you competing for? And how’d you recognize my Red Court scarf?” That’s right, Vasu, be on the attack, said a voice in his head.
The breath went out of the other boy as he abandoned whatever he was about to say. His jaw slackened in surprise a little. “Competing for?” he repeated, clearly confused.
Normally, Vasu would have felt triumphant to finally see the older boy lose his conversational footing, but he was tipsy, and impatient that this clumsy oaf who’d almost missed the train couldn’t keep up with him. He made a show of staring, to let the other boy’s obvious stupidity sink in. “Uh, yeah,” Vasu said eventually, talking down his nose. “This is the train for the various schools’ committees. For the Octowizard Tournament.” Vasu smirked viciously. “Don’t tell me that you’re just a normal Ilvermorny student who missed the first train to the school. That one left two hours ago.” He crossed his arms, feeling victorious.
“Oh, well. Thank you for confirming that I am indeed on the right train,” the leather-clad boy said pleasantly, with apparent sincerity. At least, it didn’t sound like sarcasm to Vasu. “For your information, I’m on the Castelobruxo team, but I recognized your scarf because I have acquaintances from Koldovstoretz. Speaking of which. It’s almost time I go find one of them.”
The drinks must have finally hit Vasu, because there was a dull roaring in his ears, and it seemed like the stranger’s voice was gradually getting quieter. He leaned in a little bit to hear better, and… unexpectedly breathed in a dark, spicy aroma, like rosemary and grand, antique furniture, and was that a touch of incense too? Whatever it was smelled absolutely delightful. Intoxicating. Vasu suddenly felt very relaxed and inhaled another lungful of that fragrant smell.
A hand clapped onto his shoulder. His eyes sprang open. “Aha, don’t do that. You’re drunk as it is,” the long-haired wizard said with surprising seriousness. Vasu enjoyed his adversary’s pronunciation of the word drrrrahnk and felt an intense desire to mimic it just to see how it would feel. “Why don’t you sit down, Vasu? It’s a three-hour train ride. Try to get some sleep, because you’ll be onstage soon.” Onstage. Vasu wondered at the boy’s oddly specific word selection. He liked being onstage and performing for a crowd at the annual school musical. It was one of the things he looked forward to most at the start of each school year, though he knew with a heavy heart he’d probably have to forgo the stage this year, what with the tournament.
Without fighting, Vasu allowed the stranger to gently push him down onto the nearest seat, and he sank into the plush cushions bonelessly, in the too-relaxed way that only the very wasted do. Vasu watched with heavy eyes as the black-and-white boy neatly turned and scooped up the suitcase he’d left on another seat, and started to make for the door to the next car. “Wait!” he cried out, stretching out a hand as if to magically compel the stranger’s obedience.
The boy drew to a slow halt, as if reluctant to engage in conversation again now that an avenue of escape had presented itself. “Yes?” he asked over his shoulder, holding himself a little stiffly.
“Wait,” Vasu panted again, even though his fellow conversationalist was standing still. “You almost missed this train. What were you doing that was so important beforehand?”
A slow smile spread over the boy’s face as he turned around to face Vasu again, as if he’d thought of a supremely dirty answer to that question but was disinclined to say it aloud. Eventually, the snarky grin faded from his face, and a beat passed. Then two. Vasu got the impression that he was choosing his words very carefully. “I had an appointment,” he said at last.
Vasu resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Partially because he was sure if he rolled them right now that they would get stuck in his head. “Musta been a helluva important appointment. What, man, do you have a scorching case of herpes or something?” He snorted indelicately.
“No, chlamydia, actually.” A humorless giggle. “But yes, to answer your question, it was a very important appointment. Hopefully in the future you’ll never have to find out just how important.” His voice softened as he said that last part.
Hopelessly unsure whether they were still talking about STDs, Vasu replayed the last minute of conversation in his head. And came to a boiling-hot conclusion that almost made him jump out of his skin. “Hey. Hold up. You said my name earlier.” He dragged his gaze over to the stranger, struggling to keep his eyes open as if weights were attached to the lids. As if he were a judge announcing a convict’s sentence, he said forebodingly, accusatorily, “I never told you my name.”
The other wizard shrugged and ran a hand through his wavy dark hair as if he were preening his feathers. “Dunno what you’re talking about,” he said insincerely, not quite able to fully conceal a superior smile.
“Yes you do, dammit. Don’t lie to me,” Vasu fumed. Who the hell did this guy think he was, to go snooping around Vasu’s business and then pretend as if he hadn’t? Vasu hadn’t had the chance to get the scoop on his opponents over the summer, but not for lack of trying. When he’d reached out to Professor Vinogradov, the Koldovstoretz chaperone and mentor, he’d curtly been told that it was classified information. But clearly this Castelobruxo know-it-all played by different rules. “How’d you know my name? And what the hell else do you know.”
“Oh, what’s that?” The Castelobruxo student obnoxiously cupped a hand around his ear, as if straining to hear Vasu. “You want me to tell your professor that you got shit-faced before the train was even moving? Maybe it’ll be enough to expel you from the tournament,” the older boy mused aloud, as if he were half talking to himself.
Feeling outmatched but loath to admit it, Vasu pressed his lips together and glared at the boy in the cooler-than-you white leather jacket.
“Well, if you’ve nothing left to say, I’ll be going now. Again. Sweet dreams and farewell, temanku.”
Vasu eyed him warily, wondering if he was being mocked, but it was a feeling that he was quickly coming to associate with this rival as a general default. Finally, realizing that it might be his last chance to talk to this strange figure before the competition started, he blurted, “Who are you?”
Another oily smile. Vasu had never so badly wanted to slap the smile off of someone’s face, and perhaps it was a good thing for everyone’s sake that he was physically impaired at the moment. But the longer he stared, the more sinister this smile looked, and it took him several beats to figure out why. The four canine teeth, teeth meant to sink into flesh and cleave meat, were honed to razor-sharp fangs. Vasu’s blood ran cold and he stared with wide eyes. Going so quiet that he was uncomfortably aware of his own heartbeat.
“No one of consequence. Now—seriously—get to rest, Vasu. I have other things to do before we reach Ilvermorny besides just entertaining you.”
The shameless bastard. He did it again! “You said my name again,” Vasu insisted, his trepidation giving way to anger.
“I say a lot of things, some of them true. Like the fact that you’re embarrassing yourself right now.”
His vision beginning to flicker black and white as if he’d taken a sucker punch to the skull, Vasu ground his teeth together, trying to maintain his purchase on reality. “You think you’re soooo bloody smart, huh? Well, just wait till the real games begin. And I’ll let you prove how smart you are when I jinx you into the ground.”
The older boy—the demon boy—spun on the heels of his boots, primly straightening his jacket. “I don’t need to prove anything to a fool too drunk to stand on his own two feet.” He was all quiet, elegant contempt, as if insulting Vasu were hardly worth the breath he expended in doing so. It was the end of the discussion.
Itching with helpless rage, Vasu had half a mind to draw his wand right here, right now, and away from any professor’s watchful eyes, settle this for once and for all. Just as he used to do with Aoi when their disagreements boiled to a head, or when Vasu’s blood was singing for the thrill of a fight.
Don’t. You WILL lose and now’s not the time to play Murder on the Ilvermorny Express, hissed a voice in his mind. Perhaps it was the voice of fear. Or self-preservation. That was a better word for it. Maybe if Vasu weren’t roaringly drunk right now, he’d come out on top. But in his current state, he didn’t want to risk seriously hurting anyone, either himself or his opponent. And he’d have plenty of time to settle the score in the arena.
The other wizard’s boots clicked against the mahogany floor as he crossed the car and exited onto the caboose. “The hell does he think he’ll find out there e’cept his awful asshole self?” Vasu muttered to himself, shivering as a blast of cold air swept into the car. It abruptly cut off as the door closed with a magical slam that reverberated through the car, the boy flicking his empty hand and nothing else. Two seconds later the metal was still rattling in its frame. Showy exit too, Vasu thought, recalling his newest nemesis’s first words to him. Maybe Vasu wasn’t the only one cut out for the stage.
The Castelobruxo champion—because he had to be crowned champion tonight, this candidate, or else Vasu wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell if there was an even stronger competitor—was undoubtedly powerful, what with his wordless, wandless magic, penetrative gaze, and barbed retorts that molded Vasu like clay. But if Vasu were named champion, then losing the tournament wasn’t an option. With his father dead, he, his mother, and little sister were eating the scraps from his grandmother’s table, and sometimes she let them starve. With nothing else to turn his attention to, Vasu angrily looked down at his hands, at the three rings he bore: one being his family signet, a viper curled in the shape of an S; another being the tarnished circle of silver that Ekta had gifted him his previous birthday; and the last being the engagement ring, a hideously gaudy thing made of jade and onyx. If Vasu lost the tournament, his life was forfeit to Aditi’s tyrannical will, and she’d force him to marry Chitrita Pawar, pureblood student of Uagadou. Vasu had never met her before and didn’t care to, nothing against her personally. He certainly didn’t want to marry her.
It wouldn’t come to that. He’d make sure of it, one way or another.

 

[pearjuice]

ooc: clara is first because she's the champion + hers just makes sense to read first! used this introduction post to give a tldr on their dynamic as well. im always open to plotting with both of them!

Clara wasn't sure if she was here as some sort of punishment or because her brother simply could not stand the thought of her alone across the world, but she knew that whatever was coming was going to be long and would change her life. For now, she was mildly annoyed.

She and Cosmo had awoken from something rather loud outside of their train - but being towards the front, in the second train cart, whatever it was was muffled and distant enough that neither sibling seemed to care enough to go curiously wandering. The brunette and single minute younger sibling stretched her arms and legs, sprawling out her body as much as she could between the window to her right and her large brother on her left. With a scowl, she realized she had fallen asleep on his shoulder, evident by the wet spot on the corner of her face and the small puddle on the sleeve of Cosmo's shirt. Gosh, when was the last time they fell asleep in the same room like that, let alone touching one another? It had to have been many years, for the girl couldn't recall a single memory of it happening at all.

But it had to have occurred, at least once or twice. The two used to be inseparable, a dynamic duo that often brought a lot of laughter and craziness to the halls of Durmstrang. They had been best friends once upon a time. Still ones that butted heads, but with less tension and negative feelings towards one another. Family had a way of tearing all sorts of people apart, even siblings. Clara had never wanted to be superior to anyone, only treated as an equal to her brother. Even before their parents ruined everything, Cosmo was the favored child, the less gifted one but the more forgiven and the more well liked. When they got in trouble, it was Clara's fault, but when she did something good, the credit went to Cosmo. Now, she just wanted to be seen in any capacity. She longed for someone to see her, not only the reputation she had leaned into that was crafted of her, but she knew it to be impossible.

So instead of just closing her eyes and leaning her cheek back on her brother like the little girl inside her wanted to, she shoved her elbow into his ribs. The brunette boy sat up with a start, eyes flying open.

"Jeez, Clara,"

he gasped, a hand flying over to where her elbow had once been.

"What do you want?"

"For you to tell me why I'm here."

She snapped, using her hand to wipe the back of her mouth. Her brother gave her the same fake, surprised expression - his wide, hazel eyes meeting her narrowed, blue ones.

"We went over this! I don't know how or why we both got picked, nor do I know which of us will be champion."

Clara's gut told her he wasn't being entirely honest, but this was probably the fifth time she'd nagged him just today. They had argued over their current situation multiple times in the week or days leading up to them leaving their country to head to the train station and Salzar knows where else.

"I know you had something to do with this,"

She hissed, standing up to stretch her legs.

"I'm not allowed anywhere important, which means either you picked for me to be here or you begged to tag along."

Cosmo gave her the same stupid indignant look that made her want to slap him. His hands raised in false surrender.

"Clara, I swear, I don't know what you're-"

She groaned aloud, her hands moving to rub her eyes in frustration, stopping just before her face as she remembered the makeup she was wearing. They fell to her side, and she gave her worse half another glare.

"Fine."

She said simply.

"Don't tell me."

"Look, we're here together. Either way we will be a team. I don't think it matters much who is champion and who isn't-"

"Why? Because it is just assumed that you will be the champion? Why am I even here?"

She pointed out, looking at her brother. As expected, he looked guilty, but for a reason Clara was all too familiar with. He wasn't hiding the truth from Clara.

He assumed he would be champion, because there was no way Clara would or could be.

Her expression of mild annoyance dropped to one of hurt and anger.

"Right, forgive me, brother,"

She drawled sarcastically, averting her gaze. Out of the corner of her eye her brother stood up and set a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off, blinking hard.

"It seems I've forgotten my place. How ever could I be so silly to assume that you would ever see me-"

"Don't you dare say-"

Clara didn't want Cosmo to see any more of the emotion on her face, the words she was saying bitterly serving to show more of her emotion than she had anticipated or planned on. Instead she turned away entirely, not wanting him to see through her as well as not wanting to see the look on his face that was likely one of pity and guilt - she was too familiarized with both.

It would have been one thing for her to have been left back home while Cosmo went to compete - she would have loved a break from him. And if he had stayed home while she got to break from under his shadow and prove herself, that would have been even better. But her worse scenario was exactly where she was - in new territory with her oaf of a brother glued to her side with no explanation how or why this was happening. The most logical assumption, the one Clara had jumped to, was that Clara had been selected as the champion of their school and her parents forced Cosmo to go - or that he convinced the school to let him tag along to monitor her. Regardless of the specifics, it made the most sense that she had been selected and that one way or another, Cosmo went with her. But naturally, logic never seemed persistent in her surroundings, so likely what happened was the opposite - Cosmo was picked instead and someone was hellbent on making Clara consider being run over by the train they rode. They weren't like Yin and Yang; why was she forced to watch Cosmo shine in the sun while she was forced to stand by and watch in the darkness constantly cast on her?

Even so, it stung to hurt that even he thought so too. It served as another reminder that despite the way they grew up together, he would always be above her. She moved towards the doors, and though Cosmo began to try and say something behind her, the doors shut behind him and she took a few steps away from their section before leaning against a window, closing her head and letting out a quiet breath of air.

She knew it shouldn't matter how or why she was there since regardless she was stuck, but it still bothered her. Knowing the circumstances of her presence would help her manipulate the situation and better play whatever game she was sucked into. She was talented enough to be the champion - though she was annoyingly confident and witty, it did not come under a false delusion that she was smart. She truly was intelligent and a better magic user than her brother. She was also a better fighter, a better student, and more socially adept; all things that came from those around her, whether they be 'friend' or foe. But he had something she didn't, which was being generally liked. Where people smiled and waved at Cosmo, they turned their heads and walked faster in the vicinity of Clara. The things Cosmo said or did to bring out laughter, only brought out frowns and harsh words when done or said by Clara. It wasn't simply some messed up double standard - people simply thought Clara to be enough of a monster that her words should be taken literally and as a threat. They truly thought her to be that messed up. And she'd decided, fine, she would be. What was the point in changing the reputation that people had already decided on for her and stuck with despite the amount of things she'd tried to do to change it?

She opened her eyes.

There wasn't a point, and now instead of being excited for the opportunity to get to leave school to do anything else, she had to stand there and wonder what sort of punishment was going to be waiting for her once they returned home - and how differently it would be than the welcoming back party Cosmo was sure to receive.

Champion

Clara

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

"Don't you dare say-

As expected, the door to their compartment slid shut, leaving Cosmo alone in their little cube that was supposed to be for them and Einar. He wasn't sure where the professor went, but judging off of how often the two siblings had been bickering, it was likely to get a much needed break from the two of them. He couldn't blame Einar for needing to get away for some fresh air. Clara often had a way of snuffing out a room.

He wasn't sure if she did it on purpose, as a form of control, or if she just happened to exist to irritate everyone she came in contact with. Cosmo knew she hadn't always been like that, but things weren't the same as they had been when they were little. Long were the days of the two of them dueling and having sleepovers in each other's rooms every night. She had been his best friend and most trusted ally, and seemingly overnight he became the monster in her story. He didn't understand all of it, but enough to have a vague idea why she didn't trust him. But no matter how much or little he did to fix what was broken, she was never open to it.

Cosmo swallowed the emotion building in the back of his throat, his eyes fixed on the empty spot where she had stood a moment ago.

He had experienced loss before, but nothing hurt as much as losing his sister. She was still in there, he knew it, but days like this were especially exhausting. The only person he wanted to complain to about her was Clara herself. But it felt as if it had been years since they could have a simple conversation; a meaningful one, without any arguing, or one that she wasn't orchestrating to get something from him. She was too smart for her own good.

And Cosmo was smart too. He knew his intelligence was short of Clara's - she was the smartest person he knew despite how little she believed him when he said as much - but he was smart enough to know that her being bratty and cold was a kneejerk reaction to protect herself. But from what? He never intended to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her, even when she said terrible things to him he never lashed out. But he wasn't always careful with his words - often he would forget that things could have two meanings, and sometimes the words he chose were not as thought out as they should be in the company of a wronged girl. He hadn't even implied anything just then, yet she somehow found something between the lines that he hadn't meant at all.

Deep down, he supposed he knew the chances of Clara getting picked as champion weren't high. The school staff would have to be crazy to allow someone as unpredictable as her to represent the school - and even so, would she want to? Would she want to bring honor to the school that made her an outcast? No, but she would do it for herself. Ah, yes. Clara would do anything for attention, and it really shouldn't have been a question at all that she would change tunes simply to bring something good to her name. Even if she lost or threw the competition intentionally she would have some reason for it. Winning was more predictable, but only because the only thing she loved more than justice was herself. But if Cosmo himself was the champion of their school, he knew he would mostly be on his own. There was no way Clara would help him; it was far more likely she would sabotage than just accept being a literal second to her brother.

Cosmo wasn't sure he could blame her.

So really... why were they both there? Cosmo would help happily if Clara was to compete, but that was impossible. He wasn't even sure why she competed - perhaps out of boredom. She had to have known she wouldn't get picked, so maybe a teacher just wanted to see her fall flat on her face when she discovered she was sent to help Cosmo win? But that wasn't quite fair either. Deep down Cosmo knew Clara would be better suited for a thing like this. She strived off of good competition, and she was well versed in many things. She had even taken it upon herself to begin learning how to do wandless magic. She had always been the better fighter, better magic user, better learner, and dare he say it, better with people when she actually tried. She sure knew how to work a room and could very well flip the entire game on its head if she gave it half the effort she gave pissing off those around her. But that's the thing - she angered and hurt so many people that it simply made more sense to believe she had been sent as Cosmo's secondary.

If that were true, someone had a lot of faith in Cosmo winning this without a real secondary. And that sort of trust alone was intimidating, even for someone as self assured and confident as himself.

He turned his head to look out the window, trying to clear his mind and think of something else.

Secondary

Cosmo

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

Lanre was thrilled at the prospect of getting to travel and continue his studies abroad. He'd always wanted the opportunity to get out of Europe, and even though he was really only getting to see the other wizarding schools at each location, there weren't very many students who could say the same thing; so regardless of the fact that he wouldn't really get to explore the hearts of each place he went to, it was still a thrilling prospect that he, out of so many other students at Hogwarts, would get to step foot in all of the wizarding schools in the world.

It had also been scary; the longest he had ever been away from his family was that one time during summer that he and his two best friends went camping for three nights. By the second night, he'd already written to his little sister to remind her to brush her teeth before bed. He knew he was bound to get homesick at some point, but he would have been crazy to turn down the opportunity to do something crazy such as tag along for whatever was going to happen in this competition. At the very least, he knew he wouldn't be champion - something he only knew for a fact because he specifically asked to not be. He was a good student, but even he had his limits, and he knew he was not meant for whatever insane tasks the students would be asked to do or perform. No, he wanted to watch safely from the guidelines. He was not a leader or someone who he felt stood good on their own. He was much better suited to help on the sidelines. If this was a play, he was somewhere working backstage.

If he had to guess which of the Hogwarts students would end up being champion, his guess was the Chimre girl, a student who was a year above him with beautiful orange hair. He and her had never really interacted before from what he could remember, but she certainly looked fierce enough to go toe to toe with a bunch of strangers. She was a Slytherin student, but had the warmth and kindness of just about any other house. He appreciated a person who was strong enough to stand up to bullies, something Lanre hadn't always been able to do for himself or others. There were a few other students who had tagged along that would also make good champions, but he wouldn't be surprised if Angelique ended up being chosen. She was a force to be reckoned with.

Being towards the back of the train meant that when he heard a loud slam that felt as if it were right next to him, he jumped up, the hand holding his pen dragging against the paper that sat in his lap in surprise. He looked up, eyes wide, watching as a shadowed figure walked past his cart and down towards the front. Surely people weren't already fighting? They hadn't even gotten through the opening ceremonies yet! Lanre blinked, and looked back down to his sketchbook with a sigh, tilting the pen upside down and using the eraser on it to fix the mistake he'd made when he was startled.

After a minute or two when it sounded like whatever had happened had finally died down, he decided that he should probably check on whatever had happened. By the sounds of it, nobody else had gotten up to check and he knew that if it had been him getting picked on, it would have been nice to have someone poke their head in to say hi to him. It didn't take long for Lanre to fold his sketchbook closed, using his now capped pen as a bookmark, and stood, putting it on the shelf above the bench he sat. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then stepped out into the hallway.

Currently, not many people had dared to leave their respective cabins. There were only a few figures in the hallway, one being a girl towards the front who looked rather irritated, and closer to Lanre but still a distance away was the back of a man's head. He must have been the one that was next door when that door slammed. After a second, Lanre turned the opposite direction of the strangers and tapped lightly on the sliding door, before opening it enough and peeking his head in.

There stood a boy, with dark skin and darker hair, looking at something in his hands, but Lanre wasn't sure what. He appeared disheveled by something, and unable to see his face Lanre couldn't tell if he was simply deep in thought or angry about something. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake walking in to check on the boy.

"Hi. Uh, I heard some commotion, I just wanted to check on you and see if you're okay?"

Lanre's voice came out unsure, his head tilted as he spoke and he quickly looked over the boy, finding that while he didn't appear to be hurt, something was still odd about whatever Lanre had walked into. Maybe if he had drank or been around alcohol before he would have recognized the smell and known this stranger to be drunk, however thanks to the sheltered life he lived he was unaware of it entirely.

Secondary

Lanre

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

"Shoot."

Amity had known that cleaning bones on a moving train wouldn't have been easy work, but she had been determined to clean the entire bag that she'd brought, not just five or six of them. Sure, she had mostly gotten distracted by the many other things she brought to do as well as the things she had to do - mostly hosting and checking in on other students and staff to say hi and make them feel welcome - but giving the bones the amount of care and attention she normally gave them at home was rather difficult to do on a train, regardless of how it was a relatively smooth ride. Plus, she was feeling a little crammed into her box; she had brought in a trash can with her to discard of the wipes and another bin to separate the clean and dirty bones.

She stood up from her spot in the middle of the floor, her long brown skirt tumbling down to near her ankles as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her outfit and any dust from the bones. Thankfully, she wasn't aware of anyone nearby and so the embarrassingly loud cracks her own joints made when she stood hopefully went unnoticed by anyone else. Being a teacher she had been lucky enough to get her own cart, however she had left the door open for anyone who had wished to pop in and say hi or ask questions. A few students did, but she wasn't surprised that not many stuck around - at one point she had been burning sage and Amity knew that the dried and bloody bones that had hung in a netted bag above the window weren't exactly welcoming to a bunch of teens and tweens.

Judging by the low setting sun outside, they would be back in Missouri soon, but there was still maybe another hour or two before they would be able to get off the train. She should probably start checking on her guests again.

Amity had been given access to see the list of people coming to Ilvermorny, and even with the familiar name that threatened to out her history before she became a teacher, she couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline at knowing how exciting the next few months would be. It had already been an honor to be picked to help her own students throughout the entire ordeal, let alone work at Hogwarts during a special event. It almost would be worth being discovered and being sent to jail.

Almost.

She wondered if the man whom she'd worked with before back when she was under the crushing thumb of Keaton would even recognize her - she had been a blonde in the past, with far more tattoos than what she led others to believe she had now. She'd dyed her hair black, and though she usually was covered pretty decently as a teacher, she used a variation of makeup and magic to hide the tattoos on her arms, hands, and neck. She was clearly a girl in hiding for anyone who knew her from before. Even so, there had been something nice about working with the man. She got the feeling that maybe he had simply been misguided - Amity knew all too well what that was like. But still; she hadn't seen him yet, and either way she planned on saying hi, so it wasn't like there was any point in avoiding him. Besides, she was bound to be photographed at one point, and pictures of the competition would be in news articles all over the world. She'd just have to hope that the adjustments she made were enough to not be recognized. At worst, she'd just ask people to not give a name next to her photo.

The black haired witch exited the compartment after cleaning up her mess, shoving the bins and trash can close to the window so that anyone who wanted to sit in her room could - she'd even set up a little cart full of snacks, candies and drinks for staff with a cheery sign that said to take as many as they wanted - before making her way towards the front, giving a bright smile and wave to anyone she passed. She couldn't remember who was in what cabin, but she arrived to the first door and knocked.

ooc: anyone who wants to be in the cabin she knocks on can be there! i just picked a random spot for her to head to

Professor

Monroe

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[captaindanger]

Raphael

Beauxbatons Champion

Mood:

Pumped

Location:

Train

Outfit:

Click me!

Tags:

#No thoughts just vibes

Raphael blinked open his green eyes, becoming painfully aware of the bright sun shining down on him from the window his head lay under. With a dramatic but quiet groan he lifted his hand to block some of the light, allowing his eyes to adjust to the sight around him. When he finally had the resolve to sit up and look out the window, he realized with a pang that while he had been lucky enough to sleep a majority of the trainride to whatever state Ilvermorny was in, the school was still nowhere in sight. Which meant that there would still be a while to go before he arrived at his destination. He did not do well with long stretches of time where he could do nothing other than sit still, only to occasionally get up and stretch his legs.

He stood up, taking the time to stretch and pop any bones in his body that had suffered from trying to lay and remain on the small train benches for multiple hours. His muscles ached and cried in pain at the lack of being used, but he did his best to ignore it, knowing that there would be no immediate relief even with the stroll he planned to take. He was a guy who preferred to keep busy.

Some other students were probably dressed in their nicer clothes, but Raphael had chosen to dress comfortably instead. He donned a black sweater and gray sweatpants, paired with the only pair of shoes he owned that weren't muddy or ruined in one way or another. Only because they were relatively new. Whatever foster home he'd been at last had insisted on cleaning them for him even though he had pointed out that they would only get dirty again after he left France. Oh well. It wasn't like he cared much about his appearance, but he supposed it was nice having pristine white shoes. They weren't even nice ones, but they looked better than they did before and that was enough to satisfy Raphael. He didn't care to make himself look better for the sake of first impressions.

With his curly hair still messy with bedhead and his eyes still partially lidded from having just woken up, he decided to get out and try to bring back more feeling in his legs, not enjoying the way they had stung when he first stood up. Plus he was hungry. It was hard to be in a bad mood if he was eating, and if he ate then he might get lucky enough to get sleepy again. Falling back asleep on the train was his best case scenario. He would have time to meet everyone else later, for now he was in travel mode and that meant getting fat and getting rest.

// I had this sitting in my drafts before I left so we will blame any typos or mistakes on my tipsy state of mind or that I'm posting this from a bathroom

♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

 

[Aviator]

Vasu Saini // "Shiva's Heir" // Male // 5th Year // Koldovstoretz Champion // Parselmouth​

Vasu knew this would be his last chance to study for the tournament, because once they arrived at Ilvermorny, his world would be transformed into a swirl of resplendent ball gowns, scribbling Quick-Quotes Quills, glamor charms, and posturing with the other competitors to get an edge. Determined not to let the train ride go to waste, he rifled through his luxury-brand gold-zippered backpack for the textbook at which he’d left off, ignoring the nascent throb that was threatening his temples. He triumphantly withdrew a book called Now You See Me: Apparition for Beginners, a standard text for sixth-years at Koldovstoretz. It was the first day of Vasu’s fifth year, and he had already successfully apparated half a dozen times. However, his results were inconsistent, and he’d botched Apparition just as many times. On his very first attempt his stomach had—somewhat literally—ended up in his throat, and one time he’d screwed up so badly that he’d gotten Splinched and had to receive emergency medical care from the nurse they had on staff at home, mostly intended for his grandmother.
Technically the informal practice of Apparition by one not yet of age was against the law, but his grandmother’s instruction on the subject was one of few things Vasu had to thank the old bat for. Another thing being her reputation, which, although typically unpleasant and sinister and more trouble than it was worth, meant in this instance that people were scared of her enough to look the other way when she broke the rules to give her grandson an edge in the tournament. Vasu was a serious student, having made the Headmaster’s list every semester he’d attended Koldovstoretz thus far, possessing a Summoning Charm that their Charms professor described as “perfect,” and the ability to animate several objects in harmony so that his quarters were never dirty.
Nonetheless, despite his myriad academic achievements, he sometimes fretted that his grandmother’s influence had paid for his tournament spot, rather than his own scholarly merit. It hadn’t escaped his notice that his was one of, if not the youngest face that he’d glimpsed on the train so far. And he was ranked eighth in his class at Koldovstoretz. Eighth. Meaning that seven other fifth-years had superior grades to his. Never mind the students in years above him. The A- and B+ he’d earned in Ancient Studies and Arithmancy, respectively, two semesters ago just after his father died had tanked his GPA. Thus, he’d cling to his textbooks like a lifeline for as long as he could, because they basically were if he hoped to be deemed worthy of the title of champion.
Vasu absently munched on another too-sweet shortbread cookie he’d nicked from the refreshments car, trying not to make a face at the excess of sugar that made his tongue tingle as if a bee had stung it. Really? We’re here to fight in the legendary first-ever Octowizard Tournament, and they can’t even give us decent snacks? he grumbled internally. Propping the weighty textbook on his knees, he was just settling into the too-small black text when the door into the next car opened with a small gasp of air. The car was flooded with a smell like citrus, black pepper, and something natural and heady that Vasu—to his surprise—couldn’t quite place. Gritting his teeth at this new interruption to his reading, he stared harder at the open page before him, as if his gaze might burn a hole through it.
Vasu generally loved performing and the stage and being seen, but right now, he wanted no intrusions on his studying and prayed for invisibility. In fact, he knew a charm that would do the trick and seriously considered casting it, if not for the knowledge that the entrant must have already seen him, and turning invisible now would draw more attention, not less. The newcomer hesitated by the door. Vasu could practically feel the heat of their gaze and reread the same line in his Apparition textbook again and again, the words refusing to sink into his brain. Finally, unsurprisingly, the person at the door choked out a nervous greeting. Vasu simmered. Throwing the bookmark onto his current page, he closed the heavy text with an ominous thump just short of a crack of thunder. And threw an icy glare that his grandmother—blast her wicked soul—would approve of.
He scoffed at the apologetic way that this boy prattled on, his words coming out fast enough to nip the heels of one another. “What makes you think I speak English?” Vasu said sourly, his mind flashing back to the strange boy with overlong hair and fanged teeth—the demon boy—and how he’d questioned Vasu’s fluency in the world’s most popular language. Good riddance he’s gone, Vasu thought, the saccharine taste returning to his mouth. It reminded him of the demon’s mocking manners and too-wide smiles.
This boy, however, had cocoa skin and hair that bunched into tight curls on top and was shorn close at the sides. He spoke with the posh accent and clipped vowels that marked him as a Londoner by birth. He was slightly short and whippet-skinny, almost frail, as if a stiff breeze would knock him down. As Vasu tracked him with his eyes, he shifted from foot to foot, restless. Or perhaps uncertain.
The boy opened his mouth to respond, but Vasu beat him to it, firing off another question like a thrown knife, flipping through the air end over end. “You asked me if I was okay?” he asked a little incredulously. A little scornfully, too. The question made Vasu bristle. It opened up a black void in his mind that was better left shut. His memory snapped to an instance over the summer, when his grandmother, during her rigorous training for him to excel in the tournament, had given him yet another assignment. This time he was to brew Amortentia, a powerful love potion several difficulty levels above anything he had learned in fourth-year Potions class. But Vasu had added one too many Ashwinder eggs, and the resulting concoction had quite literally blown up in his face, making him break out in painful, oozing pustules. Aditi had chastised him for his failure, and as punishment, she had locked him in their household library until he got the recipe right, almost a full day later.
But the most painful part of the memory was when his little sister Ekta, in her pink-ribbon splendor and eyes shining, had opened the library doors from the outside. Vasu didn’t know how she’d done it. It was that intuitive method by which young magical children without wands make books fly through the air or wring notes from musical instruments without touching them. Anyway, she had entered, bearing a bowl of spiced potatoes and cauliflower, offering it to Vasu to break his forced fast. And she had asked him, in a mousy squeak of a voice, Are you okay?
With hot tears of humiliation running down his blotchy face, Vasu had broken another of Aditi’s rules when he replied, simply, No. It was the truth, and to his grandmother, it was a sin. The weak do not deserve to rule, mera ladaka, Aditi had told him long ago, when another little boy on the playground had shoved Vasu to the ground and run off with the chalk he’d been using. If your enemies spot your weakness, they will trample you, and you will be good as dead. She’d curled her lip. Perhaps you’d be better off dead, rather than dishonor your family with your failures.
Ever since, Vasu had done everything in his power to expel his mind and body of weakness, tearing it out by the root. He’d trained harder at Quidditch until a Quaffle broke his wrist mid-game, and he refused to swap out. He’d labored at that Amortentia potion for a sleepless day and night. He’d outperformed more experienced students to snag the male lead in last year’s school musical, cleanly hitting notes that were normally outside his range. Whatever the job was, Vasu got it done, even if it almost killed him. And to hear his little sister’s words echoed in the mouth of this stranger, bringing him back to some of the lowest points in his life, made him want to wage war.
“Do I not look okay?” Vasu asked, all calm condescension. The young Englishman’s shoulders tensed up around his ears a little bit. Vasu’s vision was swimming, but his eyes homed in on that one almost imperceptible motion. “Come on. You have eyes. It’s not a trick question. Look at me.” The boy remained silent, his mouth working like a beached fish as he searched for words, clearly wondering what kind of nasty trap Vasu had set for him. Vasu continued, “Perhaps you should be more concerned with your own well-being. You’re my competitor, after all, and don’t think for a second I’ll take it easy on you in the arena.” His words contained a fierce edge, but this time they weren’t altogether unkind. He was mildly concerned for this soft, meek boy, hoping for his sake that he wouldn’t be named Hogwarts champion. But then again, if he were, Vasu would be one step closer to being crowned winner, he thought with satisfaction.
While the Englishman floundered for an appropriate response, Vasu shoved the Apparition textbook into his backpack, making room on the seat next to him. He could study tonight, when he was assigned his dorm at Ilvermorny. The time for sizing up the competition had come. “Sit with me,” Vasu said in an imperious tone that brooked no argument, but he was smiling. He patted the seat next to him when the other boy didn’t immediately move. “Come on, I won’t bite. It would be unsportsmanlike to do so before the first challenge. You’re from Hogwarts, right?”
At that moment, a cream-and-coffee-colored streak darted out from a seat across the aisle. Zoya had been sleeping—well, imitating sleep—elsewhere in the car, until the disturbance had awoken her. She was Vasu’s Siamese cat with large, ghostly orbs for eyes who mewled when she wanted attention and curled up with her whippy tail over her nose when she didn’t. But she didn’t eat and she didn’t need a litter box, making her an ideal pet for an overbooked student who oftentimes didn’t return to his dorm until the wee hours of the morning. The curly-haired boy’s eyes flitted briefly to her, dismissed the motion, and then quickly jumped back, when he noticed that… something wasn’t quite right about the cat. She didn’t breathe, for starters. And her face was just a little too stony, even for a cat who disdained the company of humans.
“Ha!” Vasu crowed, amused at the other boy’s reaction. “I may not bite, but I never said Zoya wouldn’t. I take it that you’ve never seen an aakarshak gudiya? Or as you English like to call them, charm dolls?” Yes, Zoya wasn’t a real cat. She was, in essence, a stuffed animal so thoroughly enchanted with charms as to have been brought to life, but she was self-sustaining and she didn’t age. She was every bit as thin and spry as she had been four years ago, when Vasu had received her days before starting his first year at Koldovstoretz. Zoya was the one other thing that he had to thank Aditi for, the only gift that Vasu had received from her that hadn’t been prompted by a holiday, religious ceremony, or some other coming-of-age rite of passage. “Anyway though,” Vasu mused, returning a razor-sharp gaze to the slight boy, who looked as if he’d somehow shrunken further during their exchange. “Sit and enlighten me with your business here, friend. What makes you think you’ll be named champion?”

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

• Professor Einar

• 
  
  
  
  Professor Birger Einar
  Durmstrang - Male - Pureblood - History of Magic Professor
  
  
  
  The sweet smoky burn of pipe tobacco drifted soundlessly around the compartment before swirling out the cracked train window as a once handsome and now finely aged wizard sat puffing on his pipe. The instrument of his smoke intake was a sight to behold as with each puff the beautifully carved patterns along the edge moved with ripples that mimicked slumbering wolves' pelts rising and falling as smoke dragged through it. All across the pipe these enchanted carved wolves lay dozing peacefully as tobacco burned on one end while on the other Einar contentedly drew the smoke into his mouth and released it with effortless grace. The old wizard watched in silence as the world passed by outside on the other side of the glass. Towering buildings faded to suburbs then fields, mountains, and forests. The world rushed passed and Einar couldn’t help but feel at peace knowing that in his old age, he was still getting to be a part of it in his own way. Certainly, other professors had shown interest in looking after the young students who would take part in the tournament but in the end, Einar had been given the job due to his senority and previous international experience. It hadn’t made several of his colleagues happy but he had learned long ago that trying to please everyone was a task that failed before ever having been begun.
  
  Pulling his pipe away from his lips for a moment the well-robed elder reached into the folds of his upper pocket and pulled forth a silver flask. Much like the pipe this flask was intricately detailed with dire wolves as well, the animals clearly favored by the aged professor as many of his trinkets of choice bore signs of them. From his pipe to his flask, even ranging to his cane and wand, all of these items had beautiful detailings of wolves that were striking when given the proper attention but subtle enough to still be fashionable in their own way. Unscrewing the cap from the nozzle of the flask Einar tipped a splash of the contents into his mouth and savored the burn that followed. Firewhisky like this was not common to come by but being around as long as he had Einar had made friends with the right people including a humble distiller from Scottland who happened to produce one of the finest drinks in all the wizarding world. This was not a drink to be guzzled for the effects of being drunk, no, it was to be sipped and savored though Einar often told others it was merely to warm his old bones.
  
  As he returned the stopper to his flask and was once again returning his pipe to his bearded lips to take another draw the sound of a knock at the door led him to pause. Turning his gaze away from the window he swiftly waved his wand to gather the smoke in the cabin so it would not disturb his guest. “Please, come in.” He called to whoever was on the other side of the door knocking. To his surprise, it was not Clara or Cosmo, though he would not have minded if it were, but rather a young woman who looked to be one of the other professors. “My my, I do hope there hasn’t been a noise complaint about my cabin.” He joked with genuine warmth in his tone as he gave the young woman a cheerful wink. “Please, feel free to join this old man if you wish. I assure you there is plenty of room.” He invited as he plucked his cane off of the seat in front of him and sat back with one hand on his cane and the other holding his pipe which still burned though the smoke now magically wafted right out the window.
  
  
  
  Mentions: Amity pearjuice
  
  
  
  
  TEMPLATE © BOKEH
  

 

[captaindanger]

Raphael

Beauxbatons Champion

Mood:

Hungry

Location:

Train

Outfit:

Click me!

Interactions:

Cosmo

Raphael's tanned hand reached out and slid the frosted glass door open, allowing his bulky frame to squeeze through and into the hallway. He blinked multiple times to try and clear his vision, the horrible bright light coming from the clear windows in the hall of the train blinding him. He hissed quietly, then jumped as the door slammed shut behind him. His eyes glanced back over at the window, staring at his reflection for a moment.

He never had an interest in dating or went through a phase of being girl crazed. The feeling seemed to be mutual because not many girls had approached him with the intention of hooking up or being boyfriend and girlfriend. Or boys, for that matter. But if anyone had tried it went over Raphael's head. He wasn't sure what people saw when they looked at him anyways. He knew he wasn't soft like the pretty girls at his school, or smooth and put together like the boys his age were starting to become. As he got closer to adulthood Raphael began to stress about his future. He didn't have anything figured out because he had been so focused on getting through the days, and he felt as if his appearance reflected that. He didn't have stability and he didn't have a plan. Both of those things were important and he knew that. But he couldn't figure out for the life of him what he wanted to be when he grew up. Which, growing up would be the end of this year. That was both so close and so far away for him. The boy staring back at him, with a fire in his eyes, wrinkled clothes, and strands of curly hair that went wherever they wanted reflected that.

He was happy with who he was. He knew he was a good person. Everyone had their flaws but his felt so much worse than everyone else's. When would Raphael learn how to tie a tie in the fancy way the other boys at his school did? When would he figure out who he was like all the girls at his school knew themselves? He had always been comfortable with who he was and how he looked growing up, even with being homeless and having to fight tooth and nail and survive. But the older he got, the worse he began to feel about it all. That's why he kept busy. He didn't want to think about any of it. He felt his best when he was exhausting himself.

Raphael turned from his reflection and tried to follow the scent of food. If he was lucky there would be a trolley serving snacks, but he couldn't find one. 'I thought someone said there is a room set up with food for everyone.' He recalled to himself.

After a couple of minutes, Raphael decided that his nose was not leading him anywhere useful. With a sigh of defeat, he turned on his heel to begin walking back to where he had been the entire ride when a boy about his age caught his eye. He saw the boy with dark hair was sitting alone. He looked different than most of the boys Raphael had met or fought. Bulked up but still put together. Short brown hair with longer pieces on the top and pale skin that reminded him of a girl that he had seen a minute ago in the hallway. He knew that the students from his school and Durmstrang were seen as the most attractive and he could not deny that this guy lived up to the widespread rumors. Not giving himself time to back out of his mission to find food, he tugged open the door and looked inside at the boy.

"Do you have any food?" He asked plainly. "I'm starving and I can't find anything."

♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

 

[pearjuice]

Clara remained in the hallway, trying to swallow the emotion that was building in her throat. With a clenched jaw, she watched as people began moving around the train - first, an older teacher with a pretty and round face moving to one of the compartments past where Cosmo remained, her long skirt and long hair flowing behind her. Then, a blonde haired boy who loudly passed her to make his way to - to her surprise - Cosmo. She rolled her eyes and huffed quietly. Even in a foregin country, people were drawn to her brother like magnets. He must have some sort of gravitational pull that she was unaware of.

It didn't take long for her to realize that a stranger sitting with her brother meant that she could no longer return to her seat unless she wanted to deal with Cosmo and someone who was bound to hate her in the future. Internally she groaned. There weren't many things that were worse than Cosmo trying to win over a complete stranger - he was far too chipper and happy for her taste, but it was always made worse when he had a new victim to pursue. Clara's eyes darted around the hallway, hoping and failing to find a compartment that was empty. The only one she knew of was all the way in the back, but because it had food in it she was sure people would stop by it often. Besides, it appeared that the teacher she had seen earlier had come from there.

Finally, her eyes landed on a door that appeared to lead out to ..... well, she didn't know where, but the fact that it wasn't technically on the train was good enough for Clara. Even if she locked herself outside until they arrived at Ilvermorny, that meant nobody would be able to bother her. Some fresh air might do her some good. The only problem was that she was not sure if she would be cold outside; she was not wearing a jacket with her outfit.

She had gone for something more comfortable but still presentable enough - a black top with flared black and gray pants, paired with nice black boots that added to her height and a multitude of necklaces and rings. She also had a black purse, big enough to hold a few journals and her wand but not much else. Her makeup, as expected, was perfectly in place despite the way she had fallen asleep on her brother - one thing about Clara was that though she would not always be the most liked in the room, she would be one that caught the eye. Her makeup was rather tame considering the way she normally did it, yet she still sported her regular winged eyeliner and dark lipstick. Cosmo had convinced her to go with a burgundy color instead of her maroon or black, and despite the way she had said she only obliged because she wanted her brother to shut up, at least to herself she could admit that the pop of color helped complete the look.
Whatever. Clara could deal with being a little chilly.

She made her way to the door and moments later, found herself outside, the wind whipping around her thick and straightened hair. Through her dark locks she noticed with slight irritation that someone was already outside. Determined to ignore them, she approached the rail - at what was certainly too far of a distance from the other person to be considered polite and instead suggested she was already revolted by him - and leaned her hands on the edge, staring forward at the darkening sky without saying a word.

What would it be like this school year, being forced to support Cosmo in all of his never-ending glory? Probably shit. She didn't like to play supporting cast to her brother, but it happened so often that it was beginning to feel as if she had simply been born as his accessory. She had tried to find the positives in the situation earlier - that she would get to travel, that she could get ahead on her school work (more than she already was), that she would be given access to knowledge she didn't have before.

Such as the man who was really good at legilimency. She had been following his works for a while, and she was currently in the middle of translating one of his articles about the brain. It always took longer to translate those to her native language, so much so that it often made her impatient. She had been trying to learn the language, and while she had gotten good at reading most of the language, she had yet to figure out how to speak it. But no matter - she only needed it to read his work. The rest of her time was spent playing Quidditch or getting into trouble. Things such as closely studying legilimency and trying to teach herself how to use spells without her wand technically counted as 'getting into trouble', but then again Professor Einar had always said Clara was an over-achiever.

Champion

Clara

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

Cosmo looked over the lush forest outside, a frown having taken its place on his face.

Contrary to popular belief, he didn't like to fight with his twin. Clara hadn't always been this difficult, but the longer they fought the harder it was for them to pull back together. It felt as if they had never stopped fighting and he hated it. Clara may have looked forward to delivering a fatal blow and masking it with a sinister sneer, or to gaining the upper hand on people in conversation, but Cosmo was not like that at all. He liked easy relationships, where the effort went both ways and he didn't have to prove himself to anyone just because they wanted to see him jump through hoops to impress them. No, he liked real relationships. His with Clara had been real long ago, but it was becoming apparent that something had changed with the way she immediately assumed that Cosmo had said she wasn't capable of being titled a champion for their school.

He wanted to ask her why she thought he was out for her blood, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. How many times had he stuck his neck out for her to their parents? How many times had he been sent to clean up her messes? And she had the nerve to see all of that as a threat? All Cosmo wanted was for things with his sister to get back to where it had been before. He knew wishing for his family to go back to normal was impossible - even he could not deny how harsh their parents could be, especially their mother - but he didn't need much to be happy. He could even be happy without Clara, he just didn't want to try. His hands fiddled in his lap with the extra length of his black belt as he reflected on his familial relationships.

Wanting to dress casual but still appearing nice, he had chosen to wear an outfit that one of his friends back home had picked out for him - a pair of worn light blue jeans, with a yellow flannel and a white shirt underneath, paired with a watch, a light brown bracelet, and a long black belt that had so much slack left over it hung loosely when he stood. He had put on boots at first to go with it, but when Clara had seen him wearing it she insisted he switched to black and white shoes instead, which he did after his sister had pointed out that he still needed to pack the boots.

A commotion at the door of the room he sat in caused him to glance over. To his surprise, a tall and muscular boy stood in the frame, looking at him with boredom. He looked tired, and the monotone voice in which he spoke with pointed to him having just woken up.

His face lit up into a wide grin, and he excitedly waved the stranger inside.

"You kidding me? I don't get my good looks from starving myself."

Cosmo jumped to his feet, jutting his hand out for the stranger to shake. It was clear he was happy that someone had walked in on him, or perhaps just joyful in general. Cosmo was a rather social creature - he had been known to converse with wildlife or plants as if they could speak in return, something Clara teased him about any chance she got.

"I'm Cosmo Winter - student of Durmstrang. What is your name?"

He asked, his eyes leveling with Raphael's.

Secondary

Cosmo

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

ooc:this is just copy and pasted from before - i didnt change anything from my initial reply to vasu!!

Lanre didn't need to be a genius to know that whoever he had walked in on was not a fan of the company; at least not at first. A little aggressiveness was to be expected, as he had thought whatever happened in the compartment currently only occupied by one person had been because of some sort of conflict; he just hadn't thought the tone from the stranger to be this annoyed merely from him wanting to make sure the person was okay. His velvety brown eyes flinched under the hard stare Vasu fixed him with and right when he had been about to mumble out some sort of apology and a sentence along the lines of 'never mind', his once wandering eyes snapped back to the stranger's eyes as he spoke out again.

"I- I'm not-"

He began to stammer before the boy continued. The English boy was not someone who did well with conflict, especially from strangers, so even if he had wanted to mask the way he was uncomfortable, he lacked the skills necessary to do so. His weight shifted, his hands going from along the wall outside of the door to his sides. Was it better or worse if he didn't answer the boy's questions? He didn't want to argue with Vasu but it didn't seem fair that he was just assuming that Lanre was going to be a dick because of some school competition he was almost certain he himself would not be competing in. Besides, he had a feeling his answer would not be suitable for present company - because the boy did not look good. It smelled bad in that part of the train and something was off about the guy's demeanor. It was similar to how his parents were sometimes after they came back from work parties.

However, something appeared to shift in the stranger, because Lanre watched as Vasu neatly stuffed his book away in his bag - a book that he recognized as a textbook despite the fact that it was in a different language than what he spoke. Judging it by its cover, he could only assume that it had something to do with Apparition. Surely he couldn't really be trying to do homework right now? But uncertainty and not wanting to seem rude took over his desire to bolt out of there and back to his seat, and tentatively he approached the booth beside the boy.

Lanre opened his mouth to reply, when he instead got distracted by what at first he had thought to be a cat - but he did a doubletake, nearly tripping on his own two feet. His coffee colored orbs widened in shock when he realized that what he had assumed to be a cat was instead something far worse than a taxidermy pet. Again he fought his urges, which this time told him to kick that cursed thing out of the train window. His eyes flickered back up to Vasu in poorly concealed surprise, however it melted away into amusement when he realized that the .... things current appearance was not done out of cruelty. He chuckled and took a seat across from Vasu, still doing his best to avoid getting too close to the doll.

"That is a first for me,"

He admitted sheepishly, the outer edges of his cheeks faintly glowing.

"And actually, I'm fairly confident that I'm not a competitor. My name is Lanre Owusu. I don't care for formalities on my part, so just call me Lanre if you're cool with it."

He offered his hand halfway across the distance to Vasu with a smile.

"You're fierce enough to compete though. I thought you had gotten into a fight and here you are chilling with an .... aakarshak gudiya?"

He tried to enunciate the words correctly as Vasu had said it moments ago, but as carefully as he had tried, the words felt too large in his mouth and came out a little messy.

"I bet your competitor from my school is Chimere. She's like you, but a little softer on the edges."

Though the words themselves may have been a little hostile from someone else after their interaction, there was nothing combative about how Lanre said it - he was slowly relaxing now that Vasu was a little more open to conversation, and it was clear that Lanre was fond of the redhead that was currently the topic of conversation. It hadn't been said to suggest that Vasu was anything negative either.

"She's fierce from what I can tell. I have no doubt that she was crazy enough to willingly offer herself as the face of Hogwarts."

Lanre leaned back in his seat, looking at Vasu curiously.

"I just wanted to travel, get a break from my brothers and sisters. I come from a big family, and everyone else is doing really cool things with their lives. I uh, haven't gotten quite there yet."

Lanre felt a little vulnerable explaining all of this to a stranger, but the way Vasu had asked made it sound like he wanted to know; at the same time, his stare was still making the curly haired boy squirm under his hard stare. Hence, the nervous rambling. He had relaxed a touch, but not enough to completely soften his still somewhat tensed body.

"I know my strengths and weaknesses - I'm better suited for helping Angel should she be chosen as Hogwart's champion. Besides, not a lot of my family hasn't left town to do anything. Even if I'm not competing, I get to continue my studies around the world. That is enough change for me."

"What about you? How'd you end up here?"

Secondary

Lanre

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

Amity's knuckles lightly tapped on the wood of the door and after a second, long and delicate fingers pulled the door open. Inside sat a man who looked to be fond of a specific wolf species, and so well dressed that she almost asked if he had perhaps gotten onto the wrong train. However, her attention was quickly drawn to the swirl of color that only empaths like her could see levitating above the man's head - calm enough to know that while there was something lying underneath, that at least he was in a better mood than most of the people on the train were - the dark haired girl Amity had passed on the way to her cabin had nearly made her feel as if she was suffocating, so it was nice to see someone in much better spirits.

"Not at all."

She replied cheerily, giving a welcoming smile in return. At his invite, she stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind her for privacy; well, more like her habit of seeking privacy. The witch doubted anything would come up in their conversation that would make her desperate enough to not want any other strangers to eavesdrop on it.

"I'm comin' to check on everyone and familiarize myself with all of these new faces."

Amity explained. Seeing that Einar had moved his cane to allow her to sit, she gratefully took the spot on the bench across from him with a quiet thanks and clasped her hands together above her skirted legs politely. It was only when her vision returned to the face of Einar did she finally recognize him. Though he was from Russia, stories of what a powerful influence he had been during his Auror days had spread from his country to others; alongside the tragedy that was losing his wife and children. That explained the sense of faded - but still painful - loss she was feeling in the room under everything else he was feeling right then. The story of his loss was one that Keaton and Amity had spoken about together years ago, and one that still came to mind once in a blue moon.

"I'm Miss Monroe,"

The American accent that came out was far more southern than she actually was but was released with practiced ease despite the fact that she was actually born and raised in Europe. By now she didn't have to remind herself to

"You can call me Amity. I'm the teacher from Ilvermorny. You must be representin' Durmstrang. Mr. Birger Einar?"

It wasn't much of a guess because she had already clocked who he was, but for the sake of politeness she asked anyways, her smile still perfectly pained on her face but far less fake than most of the ones she had already given that day. It was a long day of traveling and making sure everyone got situated and comfortable on the train; her favorite part was the socializing.

Professor

Monroe

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

• Gavriel Sylvie

• 
  
  
  
  Gavriel Sylvie
  Ilvermorny - Female - Half-Blood - Champion
  
  
  
  Naturally mint green eyes shimmered a striking neon blue as excitement bubbled up inside Gavy. She was used to starting off her school year on a train much like this one but instead of being surrounded by her usual classmates she was among fellow competitors from all across the world and they were currently on their way to her school, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The exhilaration that rushed through her veins made itself well-known as the blonde bounced her knees up and down with endless energy as she sat looking around the window and the cart she was in. The familiar red cushioned seats and warm-toned wooden walls felt alive with new energy as she heard the muffled voices of strangers in separate cabins. It wasn’t usual for her to be alone on this ride and she certainly didn’t intend to remain separated but had decided to let the guests get a feel for the train before darting around trying to get to know them.
  
  Finally, the excitement was too much that several locks of her hair had begun to turn neon blue much like her eyes. Jumping to her feet Gavy shoved her hand into the little cubby beneath her seat and snatched out a cross-body purse that was thrown over her head in the blink of an eye. As per usual she had yet to change into her school uniform and was still adorning her cropped Grateful Dead t-shirt, ragged-looking shorts, and what were once white converses turned tan by too many days out in the rugged world. Sliding the door to her cabin open Gavy poked her head out into the hallway and looked around like a cat trying to determine the best path toward its favored prey. A little way down the aisle the partial frame of a blonde fellow was half in and half out of another cabin’s door. Without missing a beat Gavy strolled down towards the young man who had his head tucked into the cabin with the friendliest of smiles on her face. As she drew closer she could hear the sound of what seemed to be another male voice inside and was delighted to have chosen the path towards what seemed like a enjoyable company. She was a social creature, she thrived off being around others, especially those she got along with, and at this point, she was most definitely crossing her fingers that she would get along with these strangers. She knew it would be awful to instantly get off on the wrong foot with students she would be traveling the world with for the rest of the year.
  
  “Did I hear mention of food?” She began as she was rather certain she had heard the young man closest to her complain about starving as she was approaching. “Perhaps I can be of assistance? Can’t have Ilvermorny’s honored guests starving to death on my watch.” She smiled as she peeked past the boy in the doorway to see that she had been correct in hearing another boy inside. It seemed she had come upon them just as introductions were beginning and blinked warmly at both of them as she reached into her purse and began pulling out far more snacks than looked as though should fit within it. “I won’t interrupt you two any more than I already have, but you can feel free to take what you want and I’m always happy to share more.” She offered them as she held out the multiple snack options she had been holding in her purse. If they didn’t want her around she was harmlessly giving them an opportunity to hint at it, but if they didn’t mind her hanging out Gavy had a feeling they might be fun company.
  
  
  
  Mentions: Cosmo pearjuice Raph captaindanger
  
  
  
  
  TEMPLATE © BOKEH
  

 

[captaindanger]

Raphael

Beauxbatons Champion

Mood:

Hungry

Location:

Train

Outfit:

Click me!

Interactions:

Cosmo, Gavy

OOC: Mobile reply, I'm sorry for any typos or weird formatting. I'll fix any errors later today

Raphael's face split into a beam when the other man leapt out of his seat and closed much of the distance between them. With a firm grasp, Raphael stuck his hand in Cosmo's, any previous tension or awkwardness beginning to fade away. It was pretty lucky that the first guy he met was friendly enough to share his food with him. And he looked happy to do so. It wasn't every day that he met someone willing to do that. Maybe he should have warned the dude how much he ate, but his insistence that he would have enough was enough for Raphael to decide he didn't need to ruin the warm introductions.

"Raphael Badeaux." He said, giving Cosmo's hand a tight squeeze before dropping it. "I prefer Raph though. I'm from Beauxbatons."

Before he could get another word in, a small and slender figure slid into place beside him. Raphael looked over and included the girl in his smile. She was pretty, the tint of her hair matching the shades of blue in her eyes. "Aw, don't be like that! The more the merrier!" He replied, mimicking the wave that Cosmo had given him seconds before after he pulled his hand away. "Besides, you brought food. I'm not gonna argue with that."

It was exciting that as soon as he went looking for food, he didn't find only food but friendly people to eat and chat with as well. Raphael wasn't against making friends but he had a hard time with it. He wasn't gracious with his words and didn't know how to be delicate with people. The social cues that regular kids grew up with were not things Raphael was familiar with. All in all it made it difficult for him to make or keep any friends. But he was an optimistic and chose to hope that with these two the outcome would be different.

His eyes brightened like as the girl who he now thought to be an angel sent from above pulled out way more snacks than what should have fit into her bag without magic. Not only did she have snacks or a lot of them but most of them were new. Raphael liked to try new foods and he could feel his mouth watering at the sight of unfamiliar candies and chips wrapped in foreign plastics.

♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

 

[Aviator]

Chahaya “Cha-Cha” Arif // “the Friendly Demon” // Male // Age 32 // Castelobruxo Professor // Legilimens
​

It wasn’t Cha-Cha’s first time in America, and with any luck, if no incidents occurred during the month the group stayed at Ilvermorny, perhaps it wouldn’t be his last. The room for potential disasters escalated from practical to absurd in his head. Cases of suspected cheating, attempted usages of Dark magic, spells backfiring violently, accidental deaths of students, dragons swooping down from the sky and lighting the castle ablaze. And Cha-Cha knew, if shit happened, it would very likely be pinned on him, whether or not he was actually culpable this time. Photo-framed like a pureblood family’s portraits over the fireplace. Unless he was actually guilty of the impending future disaster—whatever shape it would take—which somehow would be even worse. He’d been trying so damn hard to be good these past seven years, and sometimes when a hooligan cut him off on the road or attempted to rob a gas station manned by an elderly woman, the temptation to make the offender crash into a telephone pole or turn the gun on themselves was sometimes very, very hard to resist. Cha-Cha believed in justice to a fault, and he also believed that the universe wouldn’t enforce it of its own idle accord.
He’d been not-so-subtly threatened by his probation officer to be on his best behavior during the tournament. Wanting to make the most of his first experience in New York City, he had decided to spend his last morning in the city at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, apparently the largest art museum in the Americas. Entranced in the post-impressionism section, Cha-Cha had gotten out of the museum almost half an hour later than he’d intended to, but that was okay, because he only had a backpack full of personal items that he’d finished packing the night before. When Cha-Cha had returned to his hotel for checkout, he’d been unexpectedly courted in the lobby by his probation officer. Agapito was a hardened Peruvian man with a shining bald head and a mouth perpetually set in a frown, dressed in cheap suits and with no tolerance for nonsense. He made it exceedingly clear that he had a low opinion of Cha-Cha at their every meeting.
While reposing in a white wicker chair and munching from a plate of cheese and grapes, Agapito had silently inspected Cha-Cha’s wand for the taint of Dark magic, and as if skeptical of its cleanliness, he’d inspected it again. Then he’d leveled a stony stare at Cha-Cha and told him in rapid-fire Spanish, “If you so much as fucking sneeze out of line, I will take great pleasure in escorting your shrimpy ass back to Azkaban myself. And if anything—anything—out of the ordinary happens—a drunk girl drowns in a lake or a herd of centaurs stampedes some intrepid forest adventurer—I will be there, and you will do your damnedest to convince me that you didn’t have a hand in it. ¿Entiendes?” Agapito had said this while twirling Cha-Cha’s wand in one meaty hand, as if contemplating how much force it would take to snap it. “You may have that imbécil Dantas wrapped around your finger, but you don’t fool the Ministry, Señor Arif.”
Afterward, Agapito had stretched what should have been a ten-minute interview about Cha-Cha’s activities over the past two weeks into a thirty-minute ordeal, grilling him endlessly about a visit to the horse track as if determined to catch Cha-Cha engaging in illegal betting or selling or buying horses on the black market. And when Cha-Cha had paused a few moments to find the Spanish translation for “minding my own business” Agapito had pounced on him, as if certain he’d caught Cha-Cha in a lie. Anyway, long story short, the endless interrogation had caused Cha-Cha to almost miss the train to Ilvermorny, his taxi caught up in bumper-to-bumper NYC traffic. When Cha-Cha immersed himself in the Muggle world, he liked to do so completely, traveling without the use of Floo powder or a broomstick, because pretending that he was not one of the most infamous Dark wizards of the modern era, reviled everywhere in the Wizarding World he went, was an illusion too seductive to pass up. And he couldn’t Apparate to Grand Central Station when he’d never been there. The result was that he’d had to run for the train as it was taking off, and had it not been for the drunken Koldovstoretz boy’s—minimal—help, he wouldn’t have boarded the train at all.
Still simmering from the abrasive words with which he and Vasu Saini had parted ways, Cha-Cha had stormed out onto the caboose to be alone and cool his head. The Indian prince stank of pureblood privilege, what with the way he sprawled on the seat, taking up as much space as possible, the way he tipped his head back as he spoke to you so that he was literally talking down his nose. Cha-Cha had seen the leisurely contemplation in Vasu’s eyes as he debated opening the train door, when the alternative was to let him cling to dear life to the outside of the train until he couldn’t. For the sake of the school he’d attended, Cha-Cha seriously hoped that the Goblet of Fire wouldn’t choose that drunken oaf as the final resting place of Koldovstoretz’s tournament hopes. He didn’t want even the loose affiliation with Vasu for becoming his successor as Koldovstoretz champion.
It’d amused him only slightly that the boy had mistaken him for a student. What school are you competing for? Vasu had asked him, and because Cha-Cha hadn’t particularly liked him within just the first minute of conversing with him, he hadn’t corrected the oversight. Oh honey, Cha-Cha had thought, I’ve done my competing and I won my tournament. What can you say to your empty family name? As a reformed criminal who felt the pain of his past mistakes every day, Cha-Cha tried hard not to judge others too harshly. He tried to extend empathy and kindness to even the most lost souls. But some motherfuckers tested his faith in the human species, and this little shit was one of them.
Breathing hard with pent-up fury, Cha-Cha fished his vape out of his jacket pocket and inhaled the calming effects of a sweet cloud of nicotine. Smoking was something he’d never done until prison, and there he’d done it madly. Now, he had an emergency pack of cigarettes reserved for only the most trying of times, but he hadn’t kicked the nic completely, and that’s where the vape came in. This one was a boxy little fuschia device flavored Cherry Peach Lemonade. It was the only substance he indulged in, because mind-altering drugs and Legilimency did not mix.
With the wind whipping his hair in his face, he leaned against the train and looked out over the rail, watching the late-afternoon sunlight seep through towering pines in syrupy streams of amber. It was late August, and back home at this time of year the Bidar Race was held, in which traditional wooden canoes were raced across the river in an all-day series of events. As a child, before Koldovstoretz, Cha-Cha and the other boy gangsters would use the ample distractions to weave through the crowd of rich white tourists—bule, as the natives called them—lining the riverbanks and pick their pockets. And then, with their own pockets heavy with coin for once, they would splurge it at the arcade or on fanciful delicacies like fried duck and barbecued eel. But Indonesia was no longer Cha-Cha’s home and never would be again, he reminded himself. He’d been banned from the country after an impressive demolition display in Jakarta that had resulted in the deaths of several hundred child experiments and wizard lab hands. It was mercy, Cha-Cha had told the Aurors who’d arrested him. They had disagreed.
Cha-Cha was unsure how long he spent brooding on the caboose, alone. Although he generally enjoyed the company of others, the nasty encounter with Vasu after Agapito’s surprise visit had rattled him, and he needed time and nicotine to recharge. Lost in his thoughts as he was wont to do, he jumped in surprise when the door to the train opened, almost nailing him in the forehead where he was absently leaning against the wall. The entrant was little more than a shadow, clad in head-to-toe black minus pearly-white skin, a slinky punk outfit as if she were either going out for a night of clubbing or smashing mailboxes. As she passed Cha-Cha, her attention snagging on the movement of him dodging the door, she gave him a short, dismissive glance and sauntered up to the thin metal railing. She leaned forward with her elbows braced on it, dark hair falling in front of her face. Having clearly seen him, Cha-Cha wondered whether she was deliberately striking a pose, which from his angle, was nothing short of provocative. Sialan, he swore internally. He was probably twice this girl’s age; he didn’t need or want her flirting with him, if that’s what it was. He directed his gaze elsewhere, caught somewhere between amusement and embarrassment.
Some minutes later when he dared a glance back at the grunge girl—thank god she had straightened somewhat—he noticed that she was shivering, her bare arms and midriff dotted with goosebumps. Yet she refused to go back inside the train. She white-knuckled the railing as if it were the metal bar strapping her into a roller coaster. Unwilling to turn a blind eye to her visible discomfort, Cha-Cha’s damnable good Samaritan instincts got the best of him, and he approached her. “Would you like my jacket?” he asked without preamble when he reached the railing beside her. Her wordless entrance gave him the impression that she wasn’t one for unnecessary small talk, so he got to the point. He had shucked the white leather jacket off and extended it halfway to her, offering it without pushing it on her.
The girl turned an electric-blue glare on him, as if unappreciative of this interruption to her thoughts. Her plum-colored lips parted sharply, as if to deliver a hot retort, when suddenly her pupils dilated ever so slightly. Her scrunched expression opened considerably, rendering her face wide and lineless. There was a momentary pause as if she were reassessing Cha-Cha, her eyes quickly flitting up and down his figure. Ah. You find me attractive, he noted objectively, numbing out any emotions he may have had on the topic. He watched the nervous bob of her throat, and the girl’s voice was tight like violin strings when she declined.
“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug, beginning to pull his jacket back around himself. When a hurried stammer stopped him. He glanced over at the girl again, noting her fine bone structure, dramatic makeup, and newsboy hat that swooped low over her brow. An uncertain expression formed a curious juxtaposition with the proud way she held herself. Cha-Cha got the vibe that she was a girl unused to feeling uncertain. She voiced her second thoughts about the jacket. That’s what I thought, Cha-Cha mused to himself, hiding a smile. Instead he politely said, “As you wish,” in response to her change of mind and held out the jacket to her again. This time she accepted it. He noted how she was careful not to brush his fingers in the passing.
From her musical, non-rhotic accent, Cha-Cha guessed that she was from Scandinavia or Northern Europe, probably Dutch or German or Swedish. A Durmstrang student? he guessed tentatively. Of course, he had ways of determining her nationality with certainty, but that would be bad manners. In addition to being concerned with justice to a fault, Cha-Cha was also curious to a fault, but he didn’t go poking around in other people’s minds without due reason. He’d tried that before and learned his lesson. Doing so and seeing too much also diminished his faith in humankind a little bit every time, and he preferred to let other people keep their dirty laundry to themselves.
He likened his proclivity for interpersonal insight—a mouthful, but a better connotation than saying mind-reading outright—to spotting someone else’s diary just sitting defenseless on their bed. Usually it was his choice to pick it up and leaf through the pages or not, but Cha-Cha had gotten better at resisting the temptation over time. But when individuals were as inebriated as Vasu Saini had been, they possessed less control over their thoughts, emotions, and memories. And then it was more like they were opening the diary to a random page and thrusting it at him, and it took lots of conscious effort to squeeze his eyes shut.
Cha-Cha wasn’t looking directly at the girl; rather, he stood abreast her and was still gazing over the railing, mimicking her posture from a minute ago. But he felt the warmth of her stare, and sure enough, when he turned back to her, she was watching him intently. The tension had relaxed from her shoulders, her expression was unguarded, and her body canted toward him ever so slightly, like a plant stretching toward sunlight. Cha-Cha referred to this aura of serenity he emitted as his ability to fascinate others, and it got stronger the closer they stood to him. It was a subconscious instinct to relax others, ease their anxieties, and something he did unthinkingly anymore. Like his fangs, this bewitching quality was something he suspected that he had inherited from close contact with a Veela. Not wanting to exert undue influence on the girl, Cha-Cha slid a few inches along the railing away from her. He wanted to have a conversation with her for which she was fully in her right mind.
Without his jacket, Cha-Cha wore just a rumpled black polo shirt against the cold. But what had caught the girl’s eye were the rose-gold cuffs he wore around his wrists, exquisite pieces of jewelry with celestial engravings. They were the only jewelry he wore, and they sparked like fire in the encroaching twilight. Sensing that a question or comment about them was coming, Cha-Cha spoke up first. “Would you like to help me with something?” He smiled guilelessly. “There’s something in it for you, so don’t fret. And hopefully you’ll like it.” The girl’s eyes and mouth dipped at the corners, turning wary. While she was on the fence between accepting and declining, Cha-Cha crossed to the wall where he’d been standing earlier and rummaged in his backpack. It had an Undetectable Extension Charm on it, so that the unassuming size obscured impossibly many contents. He rummaged through clothes and books and an emergency bottle of blue cheese until he came upon a baking tin, wrapped up in aluminum foil. Cha-Cha unearthed it from the backpack and returned to the Durmstrang girl, smiling with the tray in his hands.
“I baked a housewarming gift for our Ilvermorny friends, but it’s not often that I bake. I’ve also been told that I don’t have a particularly sophisticated palate,” he admitted truthfully. A childhood of malnourishment and four years in prison did that to you; Cha-Cha was too grateful for food as a whole to give a damn much about its quality, and as such his tastes were minimally discerning. A five-dollar burger tasted about as good as hangar steak to him. “That being the case, would you like to try the dish I baked? It will probably be strange to you. They’re called klepon, and they’re sweet rice cakes with a molten sugar center and coated in grated coconut. It’s a delicacy in my country.” He unveiled the aluminum foil from the tray, revealing squishy green circles sprinkled copiously with coconut shavings. “Please give me your honest opinion. I won’t take offense if you hate them, because you’ll be sparing me from presenting something abysmal at the feast.” He smiled warmly. Seeing the girl’s dour expression, dark-eyed with suspicion, he added half-jokingly, “I’ll eat one with you, if you’re concerned about me using this opportunity to poison a competitor.”

 

[irregular-neptune]

• Lis
• Ramona

• 
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  lisandro valencia

  castelobruxo champion
  
  

  A

  s the train shuddered down the tracks, Lis stared at the book laying open in his lap. If anyone were to peek into his car, they might mistake that he was reading. He had been when they had left the train station, but before they'd crossed state lines his mind had already wandered to thinking about… well, everything. Lis tended to go down doom spirals when he was left to his own devices, paralyzed by every possible choice laid out before him. If any of the other Castelobruxo students had stayed in the car, or if Cha-Cha, his wild professor, was anywhere to be seen, he would have had a distraction. But, they’d all gone to explore the train and Lis had stayed behind to “read his book.”
  
  He was nervous. He’d already been nervous about this school year all summer. The selected students had been notified before the summer break who was going to represent their school in the tournament, and as soon as Lis’ name was announced he’d begun to agonize. What if he was the champion? He was okay at dueling but past that he only knew about plants, and how would that alone help him to win? Did he even care about winning? He was at least glad that he was in Cha-Cha’s hands if he were to be the champion. The professor had done a lot to take him under his wing when he’d taken his Legilmency class the year before.
  
  Not a lot of people took the Legilmency class in their fifth year, and Lis hadn’t wanted to take it at all, but his mother, Marisol, was always pressuring him to take the more difficult classes because she wanted him to be a duelist or auror when he was older. So, to Legilmency class he went. Intimidated by Cha-Cha and the material, the first part of the class was difficult. Lis already had enough time simply reading the expressions on their faces, let alone their inner feelings. But the man had shown Lis a lot of kindness and, though he was hard on him and the class work rigorous, his class had become a little bit of a safe space for Lis. He was relieved to be here with Cha-Cha now.
  
  But, since the fight with his parents and the ensuing silent treatment that both parties were giving one another, Lis had felt lost, torn between trying his hardest to win and not wanting to do anything to bring glory to his parents. If he was champion, he wanted to win because he was actually good in his own way, not because his parents pushed him too hard.
  
  Lis blinked hard to get himself out of his spiral, realizing he was chewing his fingernails ragged, and leaned back on the train cushion. The train was elegant, with red velvet seats, and reminded him a lot of the Castelobruxo train. Except, where this train had red velvet seats and wood paneling, the Castelobruxo one had blue velvet seats and ornate silver decorations. The Castelobruxo cars were a bit smaller, however, which Lis kind of missed now as he sat alone in this seemingly huge train car with the American countryside passing him by. He ran his hand over the velvet of the seat for a few moments, pushing the material back and forth, a material he didn’t like but was at least familiar.
  
  He shook away his spiraling thoughts, shook the feeling of the velvet from his hands, and stood up. He closed his book and tucked it back into his bag in the compartment above his seat before venturing out of the train car. He wasn’t going to let his anxiety get to him this time. Maybe the amount of students on this train was a bit overwhelming, and maybe the idea of competing tied his stomach in knots, but he wasn’t going to spend the entire year by himself this time.
  
  Taking a deep breath, he slid open the frosted door with his sweaty hand and stepped out into the main body of the train. He saw a few people walking through the train and a group of a couple people entering one of the cars. While he was turning over a new leaf this year, he was going to start small. A big group was a little much, and reminded him of forced socialization and practiced smiles. He knew there would be much of that later at the opening ceremony.
  
  Lis glanced over his shoulder and decided to start walking the other way, hoping to find another car where someone looked inviting or maybe the food car. What was he even supposed to do, open someone’s door and invite himself inside? As he walked, he regretted not bringing his book or even his sketchbook. Now he was going to look awkward no matter what he did.
  
  After a bit of a walk down the train, he made it to the food car and opened the compartment to the warm smell of food. His stomach growled and suddenly he realized he was extremely hungry. He didn’t remember eating much this morning, getting ready to board the train. He’d been worried about forgetting everything and being late (he ended up being pretty early). Now, he felt like he could eat the entire food car. Lis piled up a plate of food and settled into a small booth lining the walkway by himself. He wondered how much longer it would be until they made it.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  location:

  the food car

  
  
  
  
  

  interaction:

  open!!

  
  
  
  
  

  feeling:

  alone

  
  

  sugar coded ♡
• 
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  ramona bunker

  ilvermorny secondary
  
  

  R

  amona winced and shook her wrist out as she gripped her crochet needle. They were working on crocheting an astrology block sweater. Working block by block, it was easier than crocheting the entire sweater in one go and allowed her to take breaks and come back more easily, as she could finish the blocks in one or two goes and if she got distracted she wouldn’t have to come back and start all over. She hadn’t decided who she was giving the sweater to yet, but figured maybe it could be a gift for her friend Gavy, one of the other representatives from Ilvermorny in the competition. Maybe she could even make something for all the representatives and Professor Amity.
  
  They didn’t know how likely that would be though, as they glanced down at their wrist and decided to take another break. She gripped her wrist with the brace on and wished she had an ice pack or something. Maybe it was time for her to take a break. She’d been crocheting since they’d pulled out of the station and had probably done a bit too much for her wrist as it was. Gavy had left long ago – it was hard to keep her still anyway, and with all of the new students on the train and the air of nervousness throughout the train, Ramona figured she wouldn’t see her again until the opening ceremony. It was fine, because Ramona could hold their own.
  
  In fact, Ramona figured it was time for her to go out and try to see if she could find someone to talk to. She figured, as a student from the first hosting school, she should probably go be friendly with some of the other students.
  
  They didn’t know how to open though, not wanting to startle some of the more introverted of the students. She stared out of the window for a few seconds, wondering if she should just go crochet out in the food car or something. It had been a while since they had embarked, surely there were people there? It would have been a good idea a couple of hours ago, she thought as she adjusted the brace on her wrist and dropped her project onto the seat next to her. But now it was too late for that. Digging through her bag, she pulled out her camera. Not only was it the perfect opener, but she also had been thinking about ideas for train photography for about a month. She would have preferred an old dilapidated train car, but it was always good to practice, and she’d just gotten a new polaroid camera from her Aunt Ivy over the summer.
  
  So, she set out of her car and started walking down the train. At first, she was just taking pictures of the hallway and the doors of the cars in different and interesting angle. Ramona preferred taking pictures of places in interesting ways, highlighting the places without the people in them. But that wasn’t really a good way to open a conversation to strangers. “Hey, you wanna come watch while I take photos of this boring train?”
  
  Ramona tried to glance in the cars, maybe to find someone who hadn’t yet mingled and try to help them get a little out of their shell. She didn’t want to intrude, but she wouldn’t let anybody be a lone wolf this year; she figured, with them all being away from their home schools that each other was really all they had. It would be easy for someone to fly under the radar, but what’s the fun in that? Unfortunately, she couldn’t really see inside of the doors through the frosted glass, and she noted a couple of cars that definitely had a couple people socializing in them.
  
  Tired of taking photos by herself, she finally chose a car and knocked on the door before cracking the door slightly open and peeking inside.

  “Hi! Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, but I was wondering if you could, like, pose for a picture for me? I’m just trying something out but I can’t really take a picture of myself.”

  She laughed a little and shrugged.

  “If not, that’s okay! I’m Ramona, by the way.”

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  location:

  the hallway

  
  
  
  
  

  interaction:

  someone in a car

  
  
  
  
  

  feeling:

  friendly

  
  

  sugar coded ♡
  
  

 

[pearjuice]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ tabs ------ */

• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
  

  You are worth finding. Worth knowing. Worth loving. You and all your one million layers. I know you think yourself to be full of poems and rage but you are more than your anger. I miss the girl who was really happy.
  
  

  - Your big bro​

  
  

  
  
• 
  
  /* ------ mood ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  mood | suspicious.

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ location ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  location | train to ilvermorny

  
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  /* ------ outfit ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  outfit of the day

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ tags + mentions + other ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  mentions + other

  
  
  

  fun fact! clara is able to use both hands for writing, casting spells, etc. she will default to her left hand for most things because she is left handed, but in the presence of her parents she will use her right hand. this is out of fear of being punished by her mother, who is not a fan of anything unique or special about her daughter.
  
  chatting with
  cha-cha

  
  

  
  

/* ------ right side ------ */

Truthfully, the stranger's offer to allow her to borrow his jacket startled the shit out of her.

Clara had been so lost in her thoughts that she had not noticed the man shuffling around behind her, only to be pulled back to reality when he extended his white jacket halfway towards her, crossing the distance only enough to offer her a minor act of kindness. She had been ready to retort something not entirely kind but not terribly mean either when she felt her voice catch in her throat. She paused, seemingly surprised. She wasn't sure what had stopped her either, but the overly attractive man in front of her didn't seem to mind.

She had met pretty faced people before, but this man was almost suspiciously so. It was unnerving the way that his smile looked genuine, and why in Salzar did he smell so good? Either the wind was whipping around his cologne or he smelled so strongly that she could smell it from where she stood. Being an odd girl, the fact that he looked good and was being nice to her was enough of red flags for her to not trust him. Her knuckles tightened on the railing as she gave the man a small shake of her head. "No. Thanks." She said, the words sounding a little uncertain.

Clara felt relief when the man didn't press the matter, but another gush of strong wind and the reminder of what she was wearing while possibly locked outside with a strange man was enough for her to change her mind. This time, trying to refrain from looking as sheepish as she felt but certainly failing to conceal the slight embarrassment, she turned and looked at the man again. Her feet shuffled underneath her. "Actually, I don't know why I said that. I'm cold - may I?"

When the man was kind enough to offer it back to her a second time, she cautiously took it, quickly grabbing the jacket when it was close enough to do so and doing it in a way that ensured their hands would not touch. She hoped the man didn't take too much offense to it as she put the jacket on, making sure that the slightly long fabric was closed entirely shut around her - normally she would not cover herself entirely, let alone borrow clothes from a man who was unnervingly polite to strangers, but something was off about the guy - not in a way that she felt creeped out, but her gut told her that not everything was as it seemed on the surface with him. She would have to be careful.

The way she moved around in his jacket and was unconsciously careful to make sure the pristine white was not crumpled at the sleeves or touching anything that could be dirty suggested that she came from money. It would be a true assumption - her family was rather wealthy. It didn't take longer than buttoning the front of the jacket for her to feel that the clothes he wore might have been tailored, but she said nothing about it. Instead, she stared him down with every amount of suspicion that she felt.

Finally, he looked up and noticed her, and like everything else that had happened in the time they'd spent in the same vicinity on the train, he surprised her once again. She watched with narrowed eyes as he fumbled around in his bag. By the time he was done pulling out far too many contents than what should have normally fit in there and explained that he simply wanted her to try his cooking, Clara's expression was one of both disbelief and mild hurt. While she didn't know why this person was being nice to her, she knew that it would cease entirely once he got to know her or met Cosmo. It was almost enough to go ahead and ruin whatever was happening.

Almost.

"Poisoning me for any reason would make more sense than....whatever it is you are doing." She admitted with a sigh, one hand motioning to the stranger entirely. Unlike the real way that she had unknowingly relaxed earlier by Cha-Cha, this time the pose was to portray that she was no longer tense, however that was far from the case. "I suppose that if you had, at least you have allowed me to be poisoned at a reasonable temperature." It wasn't much of an apology if he wanted to read between the lines of her joke, but if it were one, it would be the closest thing he got to it.

She watched as he took the steps to return to her. Her eyes looked over the tupperware the food was stored in, and back up at the stranger. Clara was convinced that despite his young face, he was a teacher of some sorts. It would explain why he was being nice to her, why he had nicer clothes, and did something as strange as cooking for the entire mass of students and staff on the train. But... why did he look so much younger? How old was he actually?

"Sure." Clara caved after a long couple seconds of debating. At worst, he laced it with something that would make her stomach hurt the rest of the day, and at best it was one of her favorite treats. Not that she would tell the stranger that. "I think I have napkins."

Clara bent her head down to the cross body bag she wore and unbuttoned the top of it, fishing around the items inside for napkins she knew to be at the bottom. Thin notebooks with sheets of muggle paper larger than the books themselves were shoved in between pages, as well as rolled up and tied together scrolls were pushed against each other as she finally wrapped her fingers around the brown napkins at the bottom. She pulled them out, offering a few to the stranger.

"Clara." She stated. He didn't ask, but he didn't need to. Besides, she wanted to know if he would outright say if he was a student or a professor. "Durmstrang."

At the closer proximity they shared, she felt, weird. The whiff of whatever he smelled like hit her again, and it nearly slowed the racing thoughts in her head entirely. She didn't pull her hand back away from the man, as she was still half confident that he hadn't truly put anything in the dish he was offering her, but her stare turned suspicious again. She hoped he would think it to be a suggestion that she did want him to eat a bite in front of her before offering her any.

Did he enchant himself to relax people? Where's the fun in that?

Her mind unwillingly went back to one of the first papers she had read years ago on legilimency - how that strangely genius killer had used a deadly spell to allow his patients to relax in his presence. It quickly was dismissed, though she did take a note that perhaps it wasn't ideal to be stuck outside with someone she barely knew who clearly had done something. She couldn't place her finger on it, but something had been done. Clara hadn't known he was out there so she doubted whatever interest he'd had in casting such a spell had to do with her specifically, but then again what if it had been done just to help him in general? Was he a bad conversationalist or something? Or was he simply wearing regular cologne that she was getting high off the scent and someone hadn't been honest enough about the fact that it was too strong?

Yes, it made far more sense for Clara to jump to the worst and craziest conclusions about people. She wasn't wrong very often. But she didn't expect to be right that time. It had been more of a silly thought to try and ease her own discomfort.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */
© weldherwings.

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ tabs ------ */

• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
  

  I don't understand muggle music. The 12 days of Christmas is completely unrealistic. There is no way that you're still accepting gifts from someone after 4 days of birds. Anyways, happy holidays. Don't forget my gift.
  

  - Yours truly​

  
  

  
  
• 
  
  /* ------ mood ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  mood | happy

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ location ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  location | train to ilvermorny

  
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  /* ------ outfit ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  outfit of the day

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ tags + mentions + other ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  mentions + other

  
  
  

  fun fact! cosmo is partially deaf in one of his ears because of an injury he received from his mother. while blocking an aggressive attack that was supposed to go to his little sister clara, he shoved her out of the way at the last minute and took the blow for her. the two make light of the situation but it is one of the only times that the abuse was so bad that cosmo got himself involved
  
  chatting with
  raphael, gavriel and kiara

  
  

  
  

/* ------ right side ------ */

Cosmo squeezed Raphael's hand tight in response, looking the boy deep in his eyes as he answered. Immediately he got the impression that they would be good friends - a firm handshake and a wide smile was always a good sign to the male twin. His eyes were quickly drawn to the girl who stood at the door of their compartment, and when Raphael began to wave her inside, Cosmo joined in enthusiastically. With two hands, he motioned her to join them and nodded his head towards the seat next to him for the girl to join. Raphael was a bigger dude so it made more sense for him to sit across from them.

"Wow, this is exciting!" Cosmo admitted, clapping his hands together once in glee as he looked from the girl to the boy. "I have some food my sister made, but all of them are meals and not snacks. Tell me, what is your name?" He asked, looking back to the blonde girl. He knew she had probably heard their names, but even so if she asked he would make sure to give her an answer. She had not yet had the opportunity to introduce herself.

Cosmo stood up and turned to the shelves above the bench he had been sitting on. He pulled out a large black duffle bag, struggling at first to pry it from the crammed space above. Clara had gotten mad at the last prank he pulled on her and as a result, she had cursed all of his bags to not allow for any undetectable extension spells to be used - naturally, only for the few days that he were to pack and travel with said bags. As a result, Clara had one small suitcase and Cosmo had three, with one duffle bag for his shoes and school supplies while the other, that he finally was able to get down and set on the floor with a satisfied sigh, was full of food. At least she had been kind enough to make all of his favorite meals, but he knew that would come at an eventual price too. Nothing was free with her.

"I work out, so I eat a lot." He explained, crouching down and unzipping the bag. "But I think I have enough for us to fill up. I don't know how long until we get to school, so you won't hurt my feelings if you eat two of these meals or don't touch them. I, however, am starving, so I will be indulging."

With swift and excited hands, he pulled out a large chicken salad packaged in square tupperware, plastic silverware taped to the top of it. He stood up, allowing for anyone who wanted to go through the bag to do so. It had just about anything one could want in there - Clara was a good chef and she knew that Cosmo had random cravings at times.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */
© weldherwings.

ooc:this is just copy and pasted from before - i didnt change anything from my initial reply to vasu!!

Lanre didn't need to be a genius to know that whoever he had walked in on was not a fan of the company; at least not at first. A little aggressiveness was to be expected, as he had thought whatever happened in the compartment currently only occupied by one person had been because of some sort of conflict; he just hadn't thought the tone from the stranger to be this annoyed merely from him wanting to make sure the person was okay. His velvety brown eyes flinched under the hard stare Vasu fixed him with and right when he had been about to mumble out some sort of apology and a sentence along the lines of 'never mind', his once wandering eyes snapped back to the stranger's eyes as he spoke out again.

"I- I'm not-"

He began to stammer before the boy continued. The English boy was not someone who did well with conflict, especially from strangers, so even if he had wanted to mask the way he was uncomfortable, he lacked the skills necessary to do so. His weight shifted, his hands going from along the wall outside of the door to his sides. Was it better or worse if he didn't answer the boy's questions? He didn't want to argue with Vasu but it didn't seem fair that he was just assuming that Lanre was going to be a dick because of some school competition he was almost certain he himself would not be competing in. Besides, he had a feeling his answer would not be suitable for present company - because the boy did not look good. It smelled bad in that part of the train and something was off about the guy's demeanor. It was similar to how his parents were sometimes after they came back from work parties.

However, something appeared to shift in the stranger, because Lanre watched as Vasu neatly stuffed his book away in his bag - a book that he recognized as a textbook despite the fact that it was in a different language than what he spoke. Judging it by its cover, he could only assume that it had something to do with Apparition. Surely he couldn't really be trying to do homework right now? But uncertainty and not wanting to seem rude took over his desire to bolt out of there and back to his seat, and tentatively he approached the booth beside the boy.

Lanre opened his mouth to reply, when he instead got distracted by what at first he had thought to be a cat - but he did a doubletake, nearly tripping on his own two feet. His coffee colored orbs widened in shock when he realized that what he had assumed to be a cat was instead something far worse than a taxidermy pet. Again he fought his urges, which this time told him to kick that cursed thing out of the train window. His eyes flickered back up to Vasu in poorly concealed surprise, however it melted away into amusement when he realized that the .... things current appearance was not done out of cruelty. He chuckled and took a seat across from Vasu, still doing his best to avoid getting too close to the doll.

"That is a first for me,"

He admitted sheepishly, the outer edges of his cheeks faintly glowing.

"And actually, I'm fairly confident that I'm not a competitor. My name is Lanre Owusu. I don't care for formalities on my part, so just call me Lanre if you're cool with it."

He offered his hand halfway across the distance to Vasu with a smile.

"You're fierce enough to compete though. I thought you had gotten into a fight and here you are chilling with an .... aakarshak gudiya?"

He tried to enunciate the words correctly as Vasu had said it moments ago, but as carefully as he had tried, the words felt too large in his mouth and came out a little messy.

"I bet your competitor from my school is Chimere. She's like you, but a little softer on the edges."

Though the words themselves may have been a little hostile from someone else after their interaction, there was nothing combative about how Lanre said it - he was slowly relaxing now that Vasu was a little more open to conversation, and it was clear that Lanre was fond of the redhead that was currently the topic of conversation. It hadn't been said to suggest that Vasu was anything negative either.

"She's fierce from what I can tell. I have no doubt that she was crazy enough to willingly offer herself as the face of Hogwarts."

Lanre leaned back in his seat, looking at Vasu curiously.

"I just wanted to travel, get a break from my brothers and sisters. I come from a big family, and everyone else is doing really cool things with their lives. I uh, haven't gotten quite there yet."

Lanre felt a little vulnerable explaining all of this to a stranger, but the way Vasu had asked made it sound like he wanted to know; at the same time, his stare was still making the curly haired boy squirm under his hard stare. Hence, the nervous rambling. He had relaxed a touch, but not enough to completely soften his still somewhat tensed body.

"I know my strengths and weaknesses - I'm better suited for helping Angel should she be chosen as Hogwart's champion. Besides, not a lot of my family hasn't left town to do anything. Even if I'm not competing, I get to continue my studies around the world. That is enough change for me."

"What about you? How'd you end up here?"

Secondary

Lanre

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

ooc: copy and pasted over, didnt change anything! if anyone has any fancyposts with tabs i would gladly take suggestions because i feel like my blocks of texts take up a lot of space to scroll past lol. and if nobody replies to ramona before i get up my next responses, i will have amity answer! she's currently in a stall with einar but i wanna give her the chance to answer to other students first

Amity's knuckles lightly tapped on the wood of the door and after a second, long and delicate fingers pulled the door open. Inside sat a man who looked to be fond of a specific wolf species, and so well dressed that she almost asked if he had perhaps gotten onto the wrong train. However, her attention was quickly drawn to the swirl of color that only empaths like her could see levitating above the man's head - calm enough to know that while there was something lying underneath, that at least he was in a better mood than most of the people on the train were - the dark haired girl Amity had passed on the way to her cabin had nearly made her feel as if she was suffocating, so it was nice to see someone in much better spirits.

"Not at all."

She replied cheerily, giving a welcoming smile in return. At his invite, she stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind her for privacy; well, more like her habit of seeking privacy. The witch doubted anything would come up in their conversation that would make her desperate enough to not want any other strangers to eavesdrop on it.

"I'm comin' to check on everyone and familiarize myself with all of these new faces."

Amity explained. Seeing that Einar had moved his cane to allow her to sit, she gratefully took the spot on the bench across from him with a quiet thanks and clasped her hands together above her skirted legs politely. It was only when her vision returned to the face of Einar did she finally recognize him. Though he was from Russia, stories of what a powerful influence he had been during his Auror days had spread from his country to others; alongside the tragedy that was losing his wife and children. That explained the sense of faded - but still painful - loss she was feeling in the room under everything else he was feeling right then. The story of his loss was one that Keaton and Amity had spoken about together years ago, and one that still came to mind once in a blue moon.

"I'm Miss Monroe,"

The American accent that came out was far more southern than she actually was but was released with practiced ease despite the fact that she was actually born and raised in Europe. By now she didn't have to remind herself to

"You can call me Amity. I'm the teacher from Ilvermorny. You must be representin' Durmstrang. Mr. Birger Einar?"

It wasn't much of a guess because she had already clocked who he was, but for the sake of politeness she asked anyways, her smile still perfectly pained on her face but far less fake than most of the ones she had already given that day. It was a long day of traveling and making sure everyone got situated and comfortable on the train; her favorite part was the socializing.

Professor

Monroe

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  hello

  
  
  

  goodbye

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[WanderLust.]

Kiara Ophelia Sinclaire // Female // Beauxbaton's Secondary // Pureblood
Interacting with: Raphael captaindanger Gavy Sanctuaryforall1 and Cosmo pearjuice

Kiara had enough trouble falling asleep when her bed wasn't trembling against train tracks, but the past few nights had been particularly sleepless. The brunette groaned as she rolled over on the wide, cushioned bench in her cabin which she was currently using as a makeshift bed, a cream colored blanket tangled around her long legs as she buried her face in the crook of her arm. A second groan followed, this one louder and more frustrated than the first as if to remind everyone within hearing distance that her slumber had been rudely disturbed. Eventually, she was able to drag her tired limbs towards the edge of the bench, sitting upright once more and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She stretched her arms with a big yawn, before blinking once... twice.... where was she again? It took her a moment to piece it together, the sound of the train rattling on it's tracks and the ache in her neck from sleeping in such an awkward position. Surely, they must be arriving at Ilvermony soon?

Her eyes drifted shut again and Kiara seriously debated going back to sleep, but a growl in her stomach persuaded her to get to her feet. Sliding open the door to her cabin, she peaked her head out with a sleepy glare, looking both directions before shivering a bit as the warmth of her blanket fell away. She shuffled her way down the narrow hallway of the cart in nothing but her oversized sweater, pajama shorts, and fluffy socks, trying her very hardest not to tumble into any of the cabins as her entire sense of balance shifted with the rocking of the train. "Raph...?" Her unabashedly loud voice cut through the quiet of the cart. She could vaguely hear the sound of muffled voices a bit ahead and decided to investigate further, but it wasn't long until a familiar voice lured her closer. "Raph, are you-" a sudden jerk of the train sent her tumbling into the glass pane of one of the cabins, a yelp and some profanities muttered in French followed soon after.

"I've ridden dragons with smoother gates than this damn train." She grumbled as she finally approached the small group that was forming in one of the cabins. Naturally sitting down next to Raphael, Kiara completely failed to introduce herself to the other two students in the cart, continuing as if she were already acquainted with them. "Honestly, why not just travel by port key?" She fought back another yawn, pressing the back of her hand against her lips. The brunette began making herself cozy, pulling her knees into her chest, her oversized sweater practically serving as a blanket as she reached her hand forward, snatching a pack of licorice whips from a pile of snacks and hungrily tearing it open. It wasn't until Kiara became aware of the two sets of new eyes on her that she realized her failed social graces. She stopped chewing and gave a sheepish smile as she reached her hand towards the girl who sat in front of her, "I'm Kiara... nice hair." She raised her eyebrows, genuinely admiring the other girls style.

"I tried a spell once that was supposed to turn my hair blonde but it... didn't end well." She shrugged, continuing to munch on the licorice whips before the other boy in the cart introduced himself as Cosmo, one of the students from the Durmstrang Institute. "Cosmo... cute name. Hey - do you guys know how much longer it'll be until we get to Ilvermony? I can't remember the last time I spent this long on a train." The sudden change of subject may have seemed jarring to her new friends, but Raphael, she surmised was used to it. Kiara was never able to focus on one subject for too long. "I'm bored out of my mind..." she admitted, another yawn fighting its way up as she leaned her head against the the wall and stretched her legs across Raphael's lap, her small figure almost comically taking up most of the bench on which the pair sat. ​

 

[captaindanger]

Raphael

Beauxbatons Champion

Mood:

Hungry

Location:

Train

Outfit:

Click me!

Interactions:

Cosmo, Gavy

It was no sooner than when Raphael had sat down that the familiar voice and shape of his friend Kiara arrived into the group. Though he wasn't close with many, if there was one person he would say was his closest friend, it was her. They were friendly in classes and she was one of the few who bothered to say hi to him outside of them. She didn't seem wavered by the fact that he was commonly seen as an idiot or a destructive individual. It was nice. Sometimes he felt that perhaps she was doing it to mess with him. Because why else would she be friends with him? But it was easy to dismiss when she gave him her signature smile and did things such as let her legs fall into his lap.

He was still getting used to people not flinching at his touch, and so like he always did, he tensed a little bit, quick to raise his hands up to his head as she got comfortable. But it wasn't because he was uncomfortable by her company. He just didn't want to hurt her. When she relaxed, his hands rested gently on her knees, and he pointed at a snack then looked at Cosmo, a silent plea for him to pass over one of the containers that held a chicken sandwich inside.

"I dunno." Raphael answered truthfully. Mentally he pushed away the thought that Kiara likely wasn't asking him of all people. It was easy to see that the only other person who had just woken up from a nap likely had no clue where in the United States their train was currently chugging along at. "How'd you sleep?" He asked, turning his eyes over to his friend with a smile. "Looks like you didn't sleep that good. Were you up all night or something?"

Raphael knew he was. The last foster family he was with were nicer than most of the families he got stuck with. He didn't know why he couldn't just live at school during breaks since he spent so much time there but it wasn't up to him. He much preferred being on school grounds than being thrust into households at random. He was too old to be picked intentionally, and too chaotic to be around other or younger kids. As careful as he tried to be he often found himself playing too rough and breaking or hurting others. He always felt bad when it happened. Anyway, he had been up all night wondering if by the time he came back, he would even still be in the foster system. He just turned 17, but it was usually during that year if not the 18th year that students were officially seen as adults and thus, did not need a family by federal laws. It was painful to think that out of all the homes he had been through that none of them liked him enough to keep him or help him to adulthood. But stuff like that was why he kept busy. He didn't like to think.

"And what have you guys been up to until now?" He asked, turning to look at the rest of the group. "I was sleeping."

[font=O[/bg]

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

• Gavriel Sylvie

• 
  
  
  
  Gavriel Sylvie
  Ilvermorny - Female - Half-Blood - Champion
  
  
  
  Gavy did not need to be told twice once she was invited to stay. In fact, with a cheerful bounce, she entered the cart and turned to face the two cuties who had invited her in. “I’m Gavy, well actually my name is Gavriel but I normally only hear it when I am in trouble so…fairly often depending on the day.” She half-joked. Her tendency to speak her mind and act without thinking did have a habit of getting her into trouble so she was no stranger to hearing authority figures use her full name as though it somehow held more power. Without a care, she quickly emptied more snacks into a pile between the seats so anyone could reach for whatever they liked. At the mention of actual meals, her eyes lit up a bright neon yellow as she was instantly curious as to what Cosmo was offering. A good meal sounded like a dream at the moment as she had been surviving off of snacks since leaving home early the day before. “Cosmo darling, I think you just became my knight in shining armor.” She purred playfully as she gratefully accepted one of the packed meals he offered her with an elated grin. As she cracked the meal open and looked at the beautifully prepared chicken salad inside she leaned forward and held the meal out to Raph. “Wanna split it?” While she could have easily devoured the whole container by herself Gavy wanted to make sure Raph was taken care of too.
  
  As she happily snacked on the delicious chicken salad and a few gummies she had from her snack pile another figure entered the cabin and plopped herself on the seat next to Raph. It seemed to take the girl a minute to realize Cosmo and her were even there but Gavy didn’t mind. “This is amazing. Your sister could win hearts with cooking like this.” She told Cosmo as Raph and the other girl spoke for a moment. When the new arrival began to introduce herself Gavy turned her attention to the young woman and gave her a warm and welcoming smile. “I’m Gavy, and thanks, it has a mind of its own.” She chuckled softly and glanced towards her long locks which she noticed were still tinted neon blue from all the excitement of meeting new people plus the great food. Her comment was partially true as she could control her abilities but often times her eyes, hair, or even skin might change without her knowledge to reflect her emotions. It was something she was working on but overall tended to be harmless, especially now that she was around people who were far more understanding than those of her past.
  
  “I’ll let you guys know when we are getting close…I mean we have some time left in the ride.” She mentioned as she heard Kiara and Raph asking about how soon they would be at Ilvermony. “I go to Ilvermony so I promise I am not just pulling that answer out of thin air,” Gavy added as she realized she had yet to say which school she was coming from. Her American accent was pretty solid at this point, something she had worked hard on in order to leave her time in France behind her. Of course, there were still times that her accent would slip into her speech or she might begin to speak French if overly emotional, but most of the time she had a lid on it.
  
  Sitting with her legs crossed, her foot moving back and forth as some part of her needed to be in motion, and Cosmo’s meal container balanced on her lap, Gavy already felt relaxed among this group. She knew it might be the advantage of being in a place she knew but she hoped the others were feeling at ease too, or might begin to do so. Listening to the conversation flow as she chewed a few fruit gummies Gavy liked that Raph was asking questions. She was incredibly social and it seemed most of this group was as well, perhaps that was why they were all drawn to one another. “Honestly, I was losing my mind sitting alone in the cabin down the aisle. I think I gave myself a full workout with how much I was fidgeting around but I wanted everyone to get comfy before barging in.”
  
  
  
  Mentions: Cosmo pearjuice Raph captaindanger Kiara WanderLust.
  
  
  
  
  TEMPLATE © BOKEH
  

 

[pearjuice]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ tabs ------ */

• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
  

  I don't understand muggle music. The 12 days of Christmas is completely unrealistic. There is no way that you're still accepting gifts from someone after 4 days of birds. Anyways, happy holidays. Don't forget my gift.
  

  - Your favorite sister​

  
  

  
  
• 
  
  /* ------ mood ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  mood | happy

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ location ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  location | train to ilvermorny

  
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  /* ------ outfit ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  outfit of the day

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ tags + mentions + other ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  mentions + other

  
  
  

  fun fact! cosmo has never played muggle video games before. clara is the twin who is more open to the things muggles have created or use, but he would not be able to understand the controls in enough time for him to enjoy playing games on consoles or pc. he would have to be in a state of depression to give it a real try. he prefers to watch people play and is perfectly fine enjoying how the screen looks and not understanding the objective at all.
  
  chatting with
  raphael, gavriel, kiara and ramona

  
  

  
  

/* ------ right side ------ */

ooc: i gave up on transferring all of my posts lol. i like this new template i found so we'll see if i can keep up with filling them out for every character every post lmao. if these arent mobile friendly or they are unreadable let me know! i have a LOT of backups - i got really bored and zooted and this is how i killed time. also, i added ramona to the kids because i figured it might be nice for her to interact with some other students instead of teachers if thats okay?? i thought it might be more fun to play her among her peers first but if im wrong ill change my reply! you wont hurt my feelings c:

Cosmo let out a hearty laugh at Gavy's joke, giving her a bright smile that clearly reflected the humor he found in her admitting to being a bit of a troublemaker. Already she reminded him of Clara. It sucked she was missing out on this - she had only been gone a few minutes and now their cart was nearly packed to the brim. It was funny how quickly she left and how her spot had been filled, plus a few more bodies. It was like she was his bad luck charm that sucked the fun out of everything. He didn't really think that of her, but it was still a funny thought. Just not one he would voice to his twin.

"You would not be the first maiden whose empty stomach I've rescued." He played along, giving the pretty blue haired girl a wink. He wasn't known to be as funny and dramatic as his sister, but he knew how to interact with people - something Clara lacked. He liked being amongst people, he felt happier and more comfortable when surrounded by people. There was not an ounce of him that felt nervous meeting those who he should be seeing as his competition, or that he was in a room full of strangers. He loved it - he was elated by the buzz that suddenly filled the room he had been sulking in moments ago. It felt exactly as he wanted it to. His only regret was not finding these people sooner.

His eyes sparkled as he watched the girl split her sandwich with Raphael, who had found himself sharing his seat with a girl with dirty blonde hair. Judging by how she draped herself over him, it was clear that they were at the very least friends. Cosmo would have jumped to think that they were more than that, but the way Raphael's body tensed up as she made herself comfortable, his eyebrows pushed together as if it was taking all of his strength to stay still, suggested that them being a couple could not be the case. He'd have to study them over time to see if there were any feelings between the two. Not that he cared, but he knew that as soon Clara got him alone that she would want to know everything he learned about them.

"She is not good with people, but she does have a knack for cooking." He admitted, thankful for the way that Gavy had turned to talk to Kiara about her hair. He wasn't in a big rush to dump his sibling problems onto these people - he would share if they asked because he was an open book, but it seemed like a lot in the first few minutes of meeting people. It was long forgotten by the time Gavy had finished explaining that her hair could change colors - Cosmo looked like a kid watching his favorite movie listening to her describe it.

He didn't have much time to ask his questions, but he was perfectly content with it being skipped over in favor of listening to the others talk. He dug into his salad happily, listening to the three strangers speak about being too giddy to sit still or how they slept most of the ride to Ilvermorny. By the sounds of it, it would be a while before they stopped so he was thankful that they had come in when they did - he feared they would not have spoken to him if Clara were still in a sour mood and with him. He wondered if they would even have had the chance to walk in. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered what corner of the train she would be hiding out at as she awaited for these people to leave, but deep down he hoped they didn't. Clara was a big girl - she could figure out how to distract herself if she was so hellbent on whatever it was she was upset about.

"I've just been in here with my sister." He replied around a mouthful of lettuce and chicken. Remembering his manners, he swallowed before finishing, "She got up to stretch her legs, but really I think she wanted to find somewhere to read." It was a small lie, but not entirely false. He knew that she liked to do... something, when she was angry. He didn't know what, but it probably wasn't a stretch to guess that it would have something to do with a notebook or a book of sorts. "So-"

A figure stood at the door of their compartment, and Cosmo almost jumped up again in excitement. Four people wanted to say hi? This was a great day! And here he thought his sister had ruined it!

"Ramona," His voice called out, albeit a little too loudly. He blinked, a little embarrassed, but his smile never wavered. "I don't know about these folks, but I love to get my photo taken." The sentence was dramatized for comedic effect, as if to insinuate that he was self-obsessed. He pointed a fork at Ramona. "But we are eating. Care to join us? We have plenty to go around. I, or we, if these guys would like to, will join you once I've finished my food."

Cosmo knew that he did well in photos. He was not good at posing himself, however, and hoped that this girl had some ideas in mind. He was known to make a fool of himself in front of the camera. Ideas that he thought would be flattering often turned out mortifying. One time, he had done a photoshoot for a friend that went so horribly that Clara went out of her way to turn some of them into muggle photos - completely still frames of the most disgusting and revolting faces and poses that Cosmo had been standing in. She had even gone as far as to print them onto a pair of boxers for himself for Christmas. Was it funny? Yes. Was it humbling? Also yes.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */
© weldherwings.

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

• Professor Einar

• 
  
  
  
  Professor Birger Einar
  Durmstrang - Male - Pureblood - History of Magic Professor
  
  
  
  While the young woman took a seat across from him Einar calmly put out his pipe so as to ensure the smoke did not disturb his new companion. He would hate to make the polite professor uncomfortable in any way and he knew his little delight wasn’t everyone's cup of tea. Hell, even Alva had expressed her dislike of pipe tobacco and he had often joked with her that he would quit when the sun rose but he never did and she never really wanted him to. It was simply their way of expressing love to one another without saying the words as they both used to give such small and knowing smiles. He missed those smiles and the way her dark brown eyes had been so vibrant with the flames of true passion for life. His heart ached at the thought of her but it was a pain he had grown to love over time because the grief meant he still remembered her and that their undying love still burned bright within his aging world.
  
  When his guest began to speak Einar made sure to give her his full attention. He slipped his pipe into his robes and held his cane with both hands resting on top of it. “Amity,” He spoke her name in English that was coated in a thick accent yet still able to be easily understood. “Such a pretty name. It means friendship and harmony, correct?” He inquired with bright blue eyes gazing warmly upon the young woman. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think about how if his children had lived and grown and had their own families than perhaps his grandchildren would be Amity’s age. He didn’t know how old the young woman was but he would guess she was still in her twenties, she certainly looked young. The thought sprouted a sense of fondness for the Ilvermorny professor.
  
  “Ahhh it seems my reputation follows me once more.” He chuckled, his voice like deep rolling thunder as he smiled and shook his head. “I promise I am not nearly as awful as some might say.” He winked with a playful glint in his ice-blue eyes. “Anything you might have heard about me has likely been greatly exaggerated.” The words fell humbly from his lips but in truth, he knew that likely the only reason Amity knew his name and face was because of the life he once led. Oh those stories were true, every single one of them, and he had paid a heavy price to have his name known across nations. Fame had never been his goal but in his youth, he had reveled in it and then he lost everything that mattered to him because of it. His successes that still many people today pried at him to hear about were his greatest regrets. Yes, he saved lives, but in the end, he was unable to save the lives of those he cherished most and it almost destroyed him. Had he simply left the rush of being an auror behind him then perhaps fate might have dealt him a kinder hand. But alas, now it was his punishment to live a long life forever being praised and remembered for the work that had resulted in his family's death. It was why he refused to teach any sort of combat or dueling. It was why he now hoped to educate his students through the use of history so that they could learn from those who came before and hopefully be better.
  
  “You can call me Einar. It flows off the tongue far nicer than Birger.” The old man insisted as he rolled his shoulders in a relaxed manner. “I teach the history of magic at Durmstrang.” He offered the information freely as she had already guessed his name and school. “What is it that you teach Amity? Potions? Divinations?”
  
  
  
  Mentions: Amity pearjuice
  
  
  
  
  TEMPLATE © BOKEH
  

 

[captaindanger]

Raphael

Beauxbatons Champion

Mood:

Hungry

Location:

Train

Outfit:

Click me!

Interactions:

Cosmo, Gavy, Ramona Kiara

Raphael took the other half of the sandwich the girl next to him offered with a chipper "Thanks!" and promptly shoved a bite into his mouth. There was no hesitation in the way the food went straight towards his face. That's how Raphael was. If there was food to be claimed he was eager to make it his. The food was deceivingly good for coming from a fellow student. He chewed and swallowed his food rapidly but before he remembered to ask Cosmo if his sister was secretly a chef he had put another bite into his mouth. Oh what a problem to have.

With little civility he scarfed down the rest of his sandwich and listened to the others talk to one another. He was on that train for hours and at his own school for years. But when he made the decision to leave his bubble he immediately found people. He had never felt so tranquil so speedily with strangers before. A lot of people made it a point to avoid him because of his wild nature and streak for trouble.

Raphael finished his sandwich and looked up at the figure standing in the doorway. He shook his head in agreement to what the boy - 'Crap, what is his name again?' - said. This girl wanted pictures? But why? His onyx eyes turned to the device that was held in her hands and the thin strap that bound it around her neck. That looked like..

"Is that a muggle camera?" He asked after recognizing the device. "I haven't seen one of those in so long! Do you take photos a lot?" Raphael did not think he would look good in any of her pictures but he would appease Cosmo's lightly veiled request at not leaving the girl alone if she really wanted another awkward kid to be in her pictures.

Raphael wished a lot that he was more creative. He had a unique train of thought that tended to alarm the people around him, but he was not creative in the way that made something fun or pretty. He was not a writer, a painter or an actor. He didn't know how to create anything with the hands that were better familiarized with violence. It wasn't because he didn't try. He tried. All the time. All he did was try. But he wasn't good at anything cool. In all likelihood he was going to end up being something dreadfully boring like a farmer or a factory worker. There was no spark or beautifully original ideas in his head. It was funny how fast his envy grew for the stranger with the camera.

[font=O[/bg]

 

[pearjuice]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ tabs ------ */

• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
  

  I changed. It's hard for me to know who I was before all of this. I molded myself into a pretender. Now, every other version of me feels fake.
  
  

  - Written about herself​

  
  

  
  
• 
  
  /* ------ mood ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  mood | social and content

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ location ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  location | train to ilvermorny

  
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  /* ------ outfit ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  outfit of the day

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ tags + mentions + other ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  mentions + other

  
  
  

  fun fact! amity believes in soulmates, loves, soul ties, all of those things. but she doesn't think she will find her other half in this lifetime. because of this, she refuses to read into her own future with her cards but is happy to do so for others. she will encourage everyone to hold out hope to find real love, whether it be platonic or otherwise.
  
  chatting with
  einar

  
  

  
  

/* ------ right side ------ */

Amity studied the professor with interest, making sure to give the stranger just as much respect as he had given her when it was her who had been talking. It came easily to her, the dance of being social. It wasn't something she had always been good at, as a matter of fact she had been bullied quite a lot growing up, but now with time healing those wounds and caring less and less the older she got, she did her best to treat everyone kindly. She was a favored teacher at Ilvermorny; yes, some students thought her to be weird, but overall the general consensus was that she was kind. With a nice reputation like that, she didn't feel any desire to correct those students. It wasn't like she could anyway. The point of being in hiding was to hide. And she did a splendid job of it.

Her hair had been lighter in her slightly younger years. Currently it was so dark brown that most mistook it for black, but before it had been a dirty blonde color - and most of her tattoos were concealed with magic and makeup. Her bare faced days were long behind her, as she now made it a point to wear makeup that pulled attention away from the actual features of her face. A lot of her life in America was a presentation - one that she wished she could stay in forever. Every day she didn't wake up in a jail cell or with aurors hot on her feet, prepared to bring her to Azkaban was a day she was lucky. It was alarming how easy it had been to flee the country, let alone with some of her stuff and how long she was getting away with it for. Had she ran for nothing? What if she found out there was no point to her running because nobody had even drawn the parallels between her and her now dead husband?

"I mainly teach Astronomy," Amity replied with a smile. "but for the kiddos who like it, I run a few Divination courses as well. It isn't everyone's cuppa tea, but I like to keep busy so the few who take the class are as thankful for me runnin' it as I am to them for takin' it."

The dark haired girl felt her body relax in the seat, and she studied over the older man in front of her curiously. Her eyes took in the designs that seemed to ordinate much of his belongings, the wolves striking her as a rather peculiar choice. With a pang, she realized that it was likely his patronus. She was quick to not allow herself to look at it for any longer, and she pulled her eyes away as if she had been blinding herself with the sun.

"What rascals did you bring with ya?" She asked. "I've got a few good students with me, Ramona and Gavriel. They're both sweet as tea but pack a punch. My choice for the champion was easy. Did you have a hard time picking yours?"

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */
© weldherwings.

 

[Sanctuaryforall1]

• Aurelia Quansah

• 
  
  
  
  Aurelia Quansah
  Uagadou - Female - Pure Blood - Secondary
  
  
  
  Being abroad was nothing new to Auri, she had spent quite a bit of time traveling from nation to nation with her grandmother and mother ever since she was a little girl. It was her responsibility to be seen as a public figure in the wizarding world. After all, she was Aurelia Quansah, the to-be heiress of Mauritius Islands vast magical sanctuary and all the duties that came with such status. Such things as this never went to the young woman's head in a sense that she felt better than others, but it did mean that she often felt she needed to strive to surpass her greatest obstacle…herself. There were few people in Auri’s life whom she would allow to assign her worth, those being her grandmother, her mother, her father, and herself. If she let them down, or herself down, then she would know she would be unfit to one day become guardian. Thus, the young to-be heiress did everything she could to put her best foot forward and keep herself accountable. She would not let jealous cousins or scheming aunts and uncles ruin what she knew, what her grandmother had shown her to be her destiny.
  
  As the scenery of the North American wilderness flew past the window of her cabin onyx eyes danced across the elegantly scribed words of an old book. This story detailed the exciting adventures of a witch by the name of Elanora Spruce and her time with the merfolk of the many Pacific tribes. Elanora’s writings described the unique cultures and traditions of each Merfolk tribe as well as their day-to-day life as she lived among them for a time. Currently, Auri was enthralled by a chapter about the Unali Tribe and their complicated relations with two neighboring merfolk tribes over the ever-decreasing population of whales due to reasons yet to be unveiled within the pages of the book. It was fascinating to study the politics of one of the many magical races that existed in the world yet not the world Auri herself knew. The world of the land-dwelling and the world of the ocean-dwelling were vastly different from one another and she could appreciate how descriptive Elanora was in her documentation of it all.
  
  A sudden thumping noise from outside the cabin drew Auri’s attention away from her book as she turned to see movement outside her cabin. Tucking the leather-bound story safely away in her bag the young Uagadou student rose to her feet and stretched her arms out above her head, giving a satisfied soft moan as she moved for the first time in what must have been a long while. When she was seduced by the worlds within a good book it was all too easy for the young witch to lose track of time. Pulling the golden ribbon that held her elegantly braided locks back Auri instinctually adjusted her braids over her shoulders as she no longer needed her hair out of her way to read.
  
  Several heartbeats later Auri was carefully closing the door to her cabin and looked up and down the hall. It was about time she joined in with the socialization, Elanora Spruce could wait. As she began to stroll from train car to train car the young Uagadou student was delighted when she happened upon the dining car. The aroma was immaculate and drew her in, her stomach growling as she realized it had been quite a while since she last ate. Movement out of the corner of her eye signaled that she was not alone and she turned to spot a young man sitting in one of the booths just a little ways down from the food. Grabbing a plate and serving herself a few pastries and some fruit she casually made her way toward the boy who was all by himself. “Hello, do you mind if I sit with you?” She inquired politely as she gave him a warm smile. “Or has this seat already been claimed by someone you are waiting on?” She added, allowing him a way out if he did not wish to mingle with her at this time.
  
  
  
  Mentions: Lisandro irregular-neptune
  
  
  
  
  TEMPLATE © BOKEH
  

 

[Aviator]

Vasu Saini // “Shiva’s Heir” // Male // 5th Year // Koldovstoretz Champion // Parselmouth
​

Vasu measured the Hogwarts boy carefully as he sat down in the seat across from him, watching Lanre like he was a map that Vasu might be holding upside down. To say that Vasu was sitting would have been generous; he was sprawled throughout the compartment in a tangle of gangly limbs, half-laying with one foot crossed on the opposite knee, head pillowed on his elbow, which in turn was propped leisurely against the window. To enter the compartment the other boy had to do a nimble sidestep maneuver so as to not trip over Vasu’s legs like rolling tree roots. Having survived this first test, he plunked down on the seat with a smile that was clearly forced and extended his hand to Vasu. Vasu eyed the hand for half a second before moving to accept it, during which time Lanre’s expression wavered, as if he thought his gesture might be rejected. But it wasn’t out of dismissal that Vasu was slow to move. Reclined as he was, with the train rocking on the tracks, it took a conscious effort to sit up enough that he could reach. And the drinks didn’t help; Vasu was in good shape as should be any Quidditch player worth his salt, but his abdominal muscles didn’t know that when he was drunk. They refused to contract on command, as if the nerves that connected them to his brain had been severed.
“Your name is strange,” Vasu said bluntly when their hands finally met. The boy’s surname was clearly African in origin—West African, if Vasu had to venture a guess—but Lanre was a name that he’d never heard of before. As a polyglot who prided himself on his ability to speak nine languages, Parseltongue among them, it bothered Vasu that he couldn’t even place the ethnic origin of the name. “There’s plenty of time to fight in the tournament,” Vasu said dismissively, not caring to elaborate on the mild altercation with the Castelobruxo competitor who’d had the audacity to call him a fool. Oh, there wouldn’t be enough time in the tournament to put that pompous know-it-all in his place, but Vasu would sure as hell do his best. Or worst. “No need to start here. Unless you wish to challenge me, of course, and I’ll be the judge of whether you’re a worthy competitor or not.” At that, a bright gleam leapt into his eyes, making them glow like freshly-smelt bronze. His mouth sharpened into a smile. He didn’t actually expect this mild-mannered boy to take him up on his offer of a good-natured duel, but he’d be pleasantly surprised if that were the case. It’d certainly spice up this insufferable train ride, to say the least.
Why couldn’t Ilvermorny expedite the travel time? To get to Koldovstoretz, one just waded into a black lake under the light of the full moon and thought of the castle’s twisting spires, the worn yet sturdy stone that had stood the test of centuries. Well then again, the stereotype that Americans were lazy was prevalent in India, and maybe it held a grain of truth. At least this way Vasu was given some time to size up the competition before they arrived for the Opening Ceremony, and he was determined to put it to good use. So far he was not impressed with what he’d seen.
Zoya leapt up onto the empty stretch of seat beside Lanre, nose twitching as she sniffed him experimentally. To Vasu the Hogwarts boy smelled like the outdoors, like woods and amber and natural-growing fruits. Which surprised him, as he didn’t think someone so soft would find himself at home in the wilderness. Maybe it was just a cheap cologne. Vasu made a small scoffing noise in his throat at the notion that this Chimere girl was like him. Indian wizards were inherently different from their Western counterparts. The myth went that each pureblood family had been descended from the gods of Hindu lore, and so long as they kept their bloodline clean, their offspring were also destined to be born with innate godly prowess. As such, ruling was Vasu’s birthright, being a child of Shiva. Never mind that his royal family had fallen on hard times with the death of his father, and they almost exclusively subsisted on his grandmother’s charity, which was full of catches. Just as she liked it. Aditi was the only true ruler among the Saini family. At least until Vasu won the tournament. Then no one could contest his role as patriarch of the family, and hopefully later, of the Indian Wizarding sphere as a whole.
“If this Chimere girl is such a fearsome opponent, then perhaps you’d like to introduce me,” Vasu suggested blithely, not wanting to waste time on guppies when he could face off with the big fish in the pond. Not that he disliked Lanre’s company on the whole. He seemed amiable enough, and perhaps they could go out for drinks sometime before the first challenge. Which would be an excellent opportunity to pump him for information about his more impressive teammate. But what if you’re not selected champion? whispered a doubtful voice in a dark corner of Vasu’s brain. It was very possible that Aditi’s considerable influence had seen him this far into the tournament, but the final say in champion came down to the Goblet of Fire. As formidable as she was, Vasu doubted Aditi’s ability to meddle with a magical artifact so ancient. And he didn’t think he could withstand the yearlong shame of being another competitor’s sidekick. Of being a servant to someone greater than him. It would be excruciating, and he would return home for another year with no tangible reward to show for his accomplishments. I have nothing to prove to a fool too drunk to stand on his own two feet, the annoying accented voice of the Castelobruxo bottom feeder echoed in his ears.
The recent memory filled Vasu with a fiery rage that hardened his resolve. Fine then. He didn’t want Aditi’s help to advance into the tournament, nor did he need it. He would be named champion on his merit, or not at all. Because otherwise she would hold it over his head, using the debt he owed her to exploit him for favors until the day that loathsome bat finally died. And Vasu had outgrown his grandmother and her undisguised manipulations. For half a second, he turned a wrathful gaze on Zoya, resenting himself for accepting the only gift Aditi had ever given him that was not prompted by ceremony or good publicity. The horrified look that Lanre had initially turned on her had not escaped Vasu’s notice. He should have refused the stupid charm doll and gotten himself a real pet, Aditi’s consequences be damned.
For someone born to rule, Vasu felt incongruently imprisoned in his own skin.
Zoya looked at him with her icy gaze suddenly, ears pricked as if she’d heard Vasu’s rebellious thoughts. It jarred him from his reverie, and he glared back until the Siamese cat, tail raised high, jumped down from the seat beside Lanre and scurried back to her former hiding place across the car.
Half-listening to Lanre’s musings, which sounded like he was walking himself along his thought process as much as Vasu, a stinging retort about freeloading for the tournament had prepared itself on Vasu’s tongue like a bullet in a pistol’s chamber. Instead, humbled by the reflection of his own pathetic circumstances, Vasu decided on something marginally more compassionate. “Acquiring worldly experiences is cool and all, but don’t be so determined to take a backseat for the tournament. That’s hardly a worthy story to compete with your sibs. And who’s to say this Chimere girl truly outclasses you? The Goblet hasn’t made its selections yet.”
Vasu’s lips thinned when the question was turned back around on him. Having no desire to relay the likely story of how Aditi had bribed the Headmaster to secure a fifth-year’s tournament spot who wasn’t even at the top of his class, he equivocated. “Because I have luck on my side,” Vasu declared with false bravado, like a storyteller spinning a yarn in the souk.
With a showy flourish, he produced a heavy gold coin, as if conjuring it from thin air. On one side was the profile of a bearded wizard, his hat dropping low over aged eyes. When he turned it over, there was a serpent’s sinuous tail in the shape of an S, with a triangular point at its end. “Behold, the mysticism of the bhaagyashaalee sikka. Or in English, the lucky coin. I enchanted it myself.” Vasu beamed proudly. “I can’t tell you the spell, of course—it was my own invention, and like hell I’m going to blow my advantage. But think of a yes-or-no question, flip it, and the coin indicates your luck. For instance.” Vasu pushed the coin onto his thumb, flipped it in a high arc, and deftly caught it in the other hand. Drunk or not, it was a motion he was too intimately familiar with to fumble. The coin landed on heads. The fifty-seventh in a row, Vasu noted with joy. Luck hadn’t forsaken him yet. Aditi was right; he had been born under a lucky star. The one question he refused to ask the coin was whether he would be chosen as champion; there were just some questions that were best not meddled with, at the risk of provoking fake. “We are likely to be joined by two others momentarily. And then with four players, we’ll have enough to start a proper card game,” he purred with a smirk, the thrill of competition always putting Vasu in good spirits.

 

[irregular-neptune]

• Lis
• Ramona

• 
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  lisandro valencia

  castelobruxo champion
  
  

  T

  aking a big bite of his blueberry danish, Lis sighed and let a bit of his anxiety melt away. Every time, without fail, he would forget that some of his nerves were caused by simply not taking care of himself. And every time, he’d try to remember that he was the problem most of the time. He bounced his leg as he sat in the booth by himself and just listened to the loud chugging of the train. It was soothing and he tried to just zone out and not think of anything. He was almost even a bit excited because, despite the forced socialization and the dancing, it felt like tonight was the mark of his “new life,” so to speak. One where his parents’ influence really did not matter and he could even get in trouble if he wanted to.
  
  His mind had wandered a bit too far and he bit down hard on his tongue ring, wincing and swallowing hard. Lis had gotten it pierced after the fight with his parents, which had happened in the second half of July, so he wasn’t quite used to having it yet and this happened often. He was just glad that it didn’t bleed any more when it happened. He took a big swig of his ice cold water and looked up to see a girl standing by his table and smiling at him. He was taken a bit by surprise at first, not seeing or hearing her approach. She was looking at him a bit expectantly and he realized he hadn’t heard what she’d said. He reached up and turned his hearing aids up, forgetting that he’d turned them down while boarding the train to minimize the noise pollution.
  
  "...has this seat already been claimed by someone you are waiting on?”
  
  Only picking up the end of her question, he assumed that she was asking to sit with him so he smiled back at her and motioned to the bench across from him.

  “No, of course, be my guest.”

  
  
  Lis sized up this girl quickly as she sat. She was honestly gorgeous with her long locks and perfect looking skin, a girl he could recognize the beauty of even though he wasn't attracted to it. She carried herself with a sense of importance, almost intimidatingly, and he hoped he wouldn't have to compete with her. She looked like she knew what she was doing. He allowed her to sit before holding his hand out across the table for a handshake. A bit formal, he thought, but his best guess at interaction usually leaned toward formality.

  “I’m Lisandro, but you can call me Lis. How has your trip been so far?”

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  location:

  the food car

  
  
  
  
  

  interaction:

  Aurelia Sanctuaryforall1

  
  
  
  
  

  feeling:

  nervous, excited, glad to be talking to someone

  
  

  sugar coded ♡
• 
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  ramona bunker

  ilvermorny secondary
  
  

  R

  amona hadn’t expected to open the door to reveal a party of people behind it, much less expected to disrupt their meal. She laughed nervously at the first boy who spoke up – with his tousled brown hair and charming demeanor, he made her a bit nervous. Ramona didn't know why they were shocked by this, they thought every boy with tousled hair who was nice to them was cute. Hell, if a boy so much as smiled in her direction she would probably develop a crush, she just couldn't help it. She dismissed the thought as she realized she was just looking at the boy for a bit too long.
  
  

  “I'd love to join! I'd hate to take any of your food though, it looks like you've got yourself a party going on,”

  she laughed sheepishly before stepping the rest of the way into their train car. She glanced around at the other people in the car, finally taking in the faces in the group and grinned and waved at Gavy when she saw her.
  
  ”Is that a muggle camera?” asked a blond boy with a slightly different accent. He was sat down on the bench with a girl sitting next to him sprawled on his lap, so Ramona took a step towards him and showed him her camera, attached to her neck with a little yellow strap that she crocheted herself.
  
  

  “Yeah!”

  She smiled and held the camera up so he could see it better.

  “I just got it over the summer, so I’ve been trying to actually use it finally.”

  
  
  "Do you take photos often?”
  
  

  “Well, I dabble. I really like taking photos of places,”

  Ramona let the camera dangle and held up a stack of photos they had just taken out in the hall, displaying them like they were her hand of cards in a game of poker.

  “But I want to get better at photographing people now. I usually just take pictures with my phone but this is way more fun.”

  And more expensive, she thought, collapsing the stack of cards and putting them in the front pocket of her red overalls. Then, she sat down on what was left of one of the train car benches and swung her feet back and forth.
  
  

  “How do you like our humble train?”

  she asked smiling, trying to be funny but also polite, as she was from the first host school and figured she should have some manners.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  location:

  Cosmo's train car

  
  
  
  
  

  interaction:

  Cosmo pearjuice Raph captaindanger Kiara WanderLust. Gavy Sanctuaryforall1

  
  
  
  
  

  feeling:

  friendly, excited

  
  

  sugar coded ♡
  
  

 

[pearjuice]

/* ------ left side ------ */

/* ------ tabs ------ */

• .
• .
• .

• 
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ sticky note letter ------ */
  

  I'm sorry I wasn't there when you were little. I would have iced the bruises on your back.
  
  

  - Written about Ramona​

  
  

  
  
• 
  
  /* ------ mood ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  mood | fascinated

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ location ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  location | train to ilvermorny

  
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  /* ------ outfit ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  outfit of the day

  
  

  
  
  /* ------ tags + mentions + other ------ */
  

  
  

  
  

  mentions + other

  
  
  

  fun fact! because lanre is from a huge family, he sees fighting a lot. while he tries to not get in the middle of it and usually plays peacekeeper, it does stress him out to see people arguing and yelling at each other.
  
  chatting with
  vasu

  
  

  
  

/* ------ right side ------ */

ooc: of all the characters i made i never expected for lanre to be the one i first got a lot of muse to write for - if this is too long lmk and ill shorten it

Lanre had been the one to stick out his hand for a handshake - probably something he should have not done, judging by the effort it appeared to take for Vasu to close the distance between their hands - but their hands connecting into a firm shake at all was still unexpected. Vasu was unlike anyone back home in London, and he had to keep reminding himself that it was a good thing. It was a good thing that he was being forced out of his element. Was he confident that this guy wouldn't like him the longer they spoke? Sure, but at least the Hogwarts student was trying something new.

He was not one of those kids that had a lot of friends and went out to parties a lot. His parents were strict and as easy as it sometimes was to get away with breaking the rules, Lanre didn't have a desire to. He wasn't sneaking drinks into the Ravenclaw dorms or going skinny dipping in the late hours of the night. He had his few close friends and that was enough for him. His friends were prone to doing such things though, and Lanre had never been pulled out of his shell to try any of it with them. It had always sounded intimidating, to lose his mind and self control in the company of complete strangers. He didn't want to embarrass himself or get caught. So to have approached a stranger all on his own was a big step for him - no matter the fact that he was still incredibly anxious about the whole ordeal.

Vasu didn't appear to be annoyed by him; but that was not to say that something was off about him. Lanre hoped it was as simple as he had walked in at a bad time. Perhaps if he had waited a minute or two longer before knocking on the door to his compartment, then their conversation may be going a different direction. A part of Lanre guessed that maybe he was like this all the time. He seemed comforted by the strange things about or around him - from the aakarshak gudiya to the underlying patronizing and sour way he had been talking at Lanre's arrival. It didn't take a genius to catch on to the tone of voice that had been used with him moments ago.

But he was calming down, right? Perhaps he had only been rattled. The Hogwarts student wondered if Vasu - who was so outwardly confident that he was in fact a champion - had thought that he was someone else returning to the room. It would explain why he had been on edge and was beginning to chill out and even be a little polite to the stranger that had entered the room.

"Um... Thanks?" Lanre squeaked out, meeting Vasu's eyes with confusion. What in Merlin's beard was he supposed to say to that? It sure wasn't a compliment, but he didn't want to be rude and ignore it entirely. Despite how offputting this student was, Lanre couldn't help but feel a pang of envy for how comfortable and confident the student seemed. He knew that first impressions were often wrong, but there was something about him that he admired. Maybe it was the way he hadn't adjusted to make room for Lanre when he himself would have ended up standing if the roles were reversed and it had been Lanre to come in and take up much of the space like he currently was. Maybe it was the way he didn't jump to make the other person comfortable like Lanre did so often. He wasn't outwardly rude, but not entirely nice either. Was that what confidence was? Not twisting yourself into a pretzel to make others like you more?

The thing that definitely was not a cat jumped up onto the seat beside him, and though Lanre wanted to run straight out of the room and away from it, he fought his body to remain perfectly still, not wanting to be rude and show his discomfort for the creature that Vasu liked enough to bring traveling with him. The cat moved to sniff him, but right when he got the confidence to stick his hand out to allow Zoya to better sniff him, or maybe even try to pet her, when it turned and stared at Vasu. A few seconds later, it jumped off and scurried away.

Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with me. He hoped silently, the guilt of somehow scaring the thing away still nibbling on his insides a little bit. He loved animals but had never encountered a charmed fake one before. Did it have feelings? It at the very least was able to act like it did.

"I would if I could find her." Lanre admitted. "We sort of lost each other while boarding. If I see her though I'll point her out." It was a promise, but not one that he expected Vasu to take all that seriously. It would be difficult to miss the flash of red hair that may pass their door, but Lanre didn't plan on keeping his eyes peeled for her unless they left their seats to go exploring. Deep down, he hoped they wouldn't. As much as he wanted to meet new people, it was far easier for him to handle a person being added one at a time. He doubted he would be so lucky as to get something like that if they were the ones barging into all of the areas in pursuit of Angel. Lanre intentionally left out the part where he had darted onto the train to try and find a corner of the transportation that he thought nobody would wander to. As much as he liked the other student, he had been determined to use a chunk of the time alone to study or sketch.

Lanre was surprised at the almost kind way he was assured that he shouldn't lose hope - but he wasn't saying that he wasn't champion because he was disappointed. He wanted nothing less than to be champion. Being forced to compete with a bunch of strangers sounded awful to him. He liked being behind the scenes where there was less pressure to be exceptional. He wanted to prove himself to be different than his siblings but failing publicly would do him no good. He had his strengths, and he knew himself well enough to know that being a competitor would do him no good. He would have too much stage fright to take the well publicized games seriously. He would crumble the second he looked out into the stands and saw that the entire wizarding world was watching. His few seconds of fame would be better spent taking a few minutes to do an interview with a news reporter, maybe even get his picture in the paper. That was far more his speed. He would be enough help with figuring out puzzles and helping the champion get whatever they needed.

His dark brown eyes were drawn to Vasu's hands as he brought out what Lanre noticed to be a golden coin. His eyes sparked in curiousity, never straying from the thin metal even as the other boy explained it to him. He did the spell himself? That was really cool. See? Stuff like that was why he shouldn't compete! He was creative, but only when it came to art. None of that were things he thought translated well to real life. But wait, how had he obtained the coin anyway? He hadn't gone fishing around in his pockets for it. "That's so cool!" Lanre awed in amazement, bringing his gaze back up to the other boy. A smile was on his face. This was far better than some dead cat walking around pretending to be alive, and he was thankful that one of the things Vasu brought with him was not morbid or horrifying. "Do you do that often? Come up with your own enchantments, I mean."

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */
© weldherwings.

 

[captaindanger]

Raphael

Beauxbatons Champion

Mood:

Hungry

Location:

Train

Outfit:

Click me!

Interactions:

Cosmo, Gavy, Ramona Kiara

Raphael listened to the girl as she rattled off answers to his questions that had come out too quickly, the grin on his face unwavering. He never had been good at things that required focus and skill. At least the skill he thought it took to take photos and make them look nice. He was good at fighting but was that skill or was he just good on his feet? Was it calculated or was it just habitual to know when and where to throw his punches? He didn't know.

He watched as she took one of the last seats available in the room, the fabric of her orange-red overalls rustling ever so slightly as she shifted and made herself comfortable. It was nice being surrounded by such pleasant people. As of yet nobody had been rude to him and he didn't have any urges to knock the lights out of any of them. "Huh. I would've thought people were easier to photograph instead of places." He admitted before shoving more food into his mouth.

By the time Raphael had swallowed his next bite Ramona had listed off another question. He looked up at her before realizing that she was an Ilvermorny student. He had a million questions about her school. Were Americans truly super lazy? Did the school really look like a dark cloud to muggles? Did the castle really start out as someone's house? Was there really a creepy snaketree on the school grounds? He knew he was prone to believing everything he heard, but the rumors were so often and consistent that he thought they had to be true. Instead, he played along with her joke.

"Very nice, very nice." He teased. "I think it could do with some more color. You should get someone on that."

[font=O[/bg]