[#9] Match 1 - Slytherin vs Gryffindor

Amara was relieved that her speech went over well. She hoped it motivated them, because she really wanted to win. Especially against Gryffindor. She felt a bit calmer, nodding at Victoria's words. It was the changing room and her new role as captain that made her nervous, but Quidditch itself was one of the few times Amara felt completely in control and free. She loved it, and grew her confidence knowing she was a fantastic Beater. 

So when Madam Hooch came to tell them it was time, her excitement only grew. 

'Let's go win this,' she told the team while grabbing her Beater's bat. Amara gave the room a final glance, then exhaled an anticipating breath. She marched forward, happily leading the way to their tunnel, which she'd stood in so many times over the years yet somehow this time was different. 

More was at sake. If Slytherin lost today it wouldn't just suck, it'd be partially on her. She had to lead by example, right? Well, there was only so much she could do about incompetence, but Amara really did believe in her players and their potential. They just had better not let her or Slytherin down. 

She stood at the front, broom gripped by her side so she could easily mount it when the signal came. Her bat was slung on her shoulder, itching to be used. Amara glanced behind her at the team, giving them an affirmative nod. Once it was time to fly out, they'd go in formation - like an arrow. A united fly around the pitch once before lining up as required. Slytherin always did it; she continued to keep up the tradition - and quickly reminded her team. 

A little out of breath, eventhough he had slowed his pace once the pitch had come into sight to match Ryan's, Joe came to a halt in front of the stairs.
They had quickly walked out of the Great Hall the second Breakfast food had vanished and run ever since they had left the castle.

Joe had not been entirely sure where he had left his stick yesterday but going back the path to the lake seemed like the safest bet to aquire a stick the right size.
They had walked up and down a little until they had spotted it in the grass.
After that he and Ryan had hurried towards the pitch, anxious to get good seats.

Now it was just stairs. Joe was tempted to have Ryan go first but since there were more students coming he decided to go ahead since he was a bit faster than his friend.
He started to sweat half-way up and as soon as he was in the stands he pushed past some older Ravenclaws to get to the higher seats. Joe pulled off his robe and threw it over two seats to safe before he leaned on the stick to puff.

A quick glance towards the pitch told him the match had not started yet so he let himself breath before he went and got the T-shirt out of his robe pocket.
Pulling the arm-holes over the stick and making a knot at the top he was satisfied with the result.

Now all he and Ryan had to do was wave it and get Toby's attention when he flew by.
Their best friend surely would be happy to see their banner for him!
It read "GO TOBY!" and had pretty stars drawn on it, a creative touch from Ryan.

"I can't wait! Toby'll be so excited!", he said. Looking around he wondered if Jay would join them. He had helped with the Banner after all.


[OOC: all mentions of Ryan with permission]

Pbft. Mardling would deny her outcome bet. It was no secret that his lips were permanently puckered and pasted to Amara Seabrook's posterior. But Phe didn't let that get to her. She was content leaving her bet as is. She believed in the power of good overcoming evil, with Slytherin being the evil in the equation. Maybe all of them weren't loathsome evil little things, but a majority of them were, and being led by someone like Seabrook didn't help their case.

Phe interlocked her arm with her bestie before parading out of the castle, laughing and giggling about the prospect of going topless during the Quidditch match. It was totally unfair that the Hufflepuff boys could flash their torsos freely and do whatever they wanted with their upper bodies without repercussion. But that was society for you, wasn't it? Keeping a girl down.

'We could always create some tasteful chest pasties?' Phe cackled at the idea, knowing it was highly inappropriate. 'We'd show up the boys with our Hufflepuff pride. It'd be no contest.' She wasn't serious in her suggestion, but it was a funny thought. The idea of people falling out of the sky at the sight of her and Soph in the stands was bringing her happy tears.

It wasn't long before the girls were taking a seat on the lower half of the Hufflepuff tower. There was no sign of the boys yet, leaving Phoebe to believe they were stripping and slapping paint on their bodies somewhere. She couldn't wait to see what all of them came up with.

Breakfast was over in a flash and the game was fast approaching. This left Lucky with one question to answer: would he or wouldn't he partake in switching out his sweater for chest paint? Ha, no need to ask. He was doing it. But he and Harris couldn't do it alone. It wouldn't be as effective with only two people. His only other option was Kieran Bane, who was lying cheek first on the table. Lucky wasn't even going to ask. He knew his Beater would be into it.

'C'mon, mate. We're painting our naked chests.' Lucky peeled his friend off the table and hurried to find Harris, who was found near the door. Without so much as a word, Lucky stared him dead in the eye with a grin. A sh*t-eating grin that kept his tongue in his cheek. It was an unspoken Hufflepuff language, a look like that meant things were a go and their plan was in motion. All they had to do was secure the paint -- some red and yellow paint to be exact.

After making a couple stops to find the paint, the boys lugged the two buckets off to the side of one of the towers on the pitch. Lucky couldn't wait to get started, dropping the bucket he was carrying and causing some of it to spill from the sides. He used a firm grip and tore his sweater from over his head in one fast motion, and chucked it into the nether. He didn't have a use for it anymore. The boy was ready for his expanse of skin to be lathered in sweet yellow paint.

'I'll be yellow with red lettering, Harris can be red with yellow lettering. So on, so forth, yeah? Alternating colors and all that other creative nonsense.' Lucky dipped a hand into the red bucket and began to slap his chest wildly, letting the pigment slip over his broad torso and slip into the grooves of his muscles. He was messy with it, not really caring if it looked perfect. This wasn't an art project or anything. It was a declaration of fervent support.

'Uh.. do you think I'm able to write the H on my chest? He looked down at his abs, the red paint dripping over his trousers from his abdomen. 'It might come out looking a little wonky, but who cares. This is only for fun, innit?' He bit his bottom lip, determination showing, as he carefully painted the letter over his red-painted chest. It looked wonky, but the more Lucky stared at it, he liked it. He made wonky look good -- real good in his opinion.

'Alright, lads. How's it look?' He gave his friends a playful flex, rounding his arms as if he were fifteen times his size. He was buff for his age, but he wasn't a steroid raging monster.

'I'm going to head up and secure our seats.' He motioned at the tower. 'Remember, Harris you're going to be the letter U, and Kier, you're going to be the letter G.' He flashed them a cheeky grin, before kicking up his feet and running towards the stairs. It was a long way to the top, but he had all the energy and motive in the world. Lucky wanted everyone to see what he and his boys came up with on such short notice. It was rad if you asked him.

'Who's ready to show some Gryffindor pride!?' He shouted, emerging into the stands. He shook his chest like a dancer, like someone who knew what they were doing, but he didn't, and he knew it. Lucky was self-aware and the huge grin on his face let everyone know that.

Toby could feel the pressure mounting as the time to emerge onto the pitch grew ever closer, soon he would be fighting for his life against some of the most ruthless participants the sport had ever seen. Who knew if he'd ever see his dear parents again, they would be forced to watch him fall to his death... The cause? No doubt it would be the fault of whatever dirty tactics Slytherin stooped to employ during the game.

The commentator's voice could be heard addressing the gathered crowd and Tobias swallowed back the nerves that were threatening to make him vomit all over his fresh Quidditch robes. If fate would have him die today, then at least he would go out doing what he loved... His only wish was that Amy would find it within her to avenge him, then he might rest easy.

'Today's game is Slytherin versus Gryffindor!'

That seemed to be what they'd been waiting for, because as soon as the words were said, his teammates began to mount their brooms and Toby hurried to copy their actions. Following the others out onto the pitch, Toby flew higher than his teammates- to hover above as was expected. There he waited, suddenly aware of just how many people had shown up to watch their performance, and just how many would watch him fall, if he did.

While everyone was focused on the upcoming match, Ryan had to sit heavily in the seat Joe picked out for them - fighting off a panic attack with how crowded the stands where. It was a sea of noise and people, which Ryan felt he could actually drown in. He'd never been in a crowd like this his whole life, and was panicking at getting lost in it or knocked down. 

He gulped, blearily glancing up when a magically-amplified voice welcomed them to the match and announced he teams. Ryan desperately reached for Joe, hoping his best friend could help him drag himself back onto his feet and not fall over. There was one thing more important than his anxiety today.

'GO TOBY' Ryan yelled, though his voice was higher than he'd given it credit for even if it was still lost in the sea of noise. 'Banner. Where's the banner?' He grabbed it and climbed onto his seat. If Joe still held it too, well then Joe was coming with him.

Ryan aggressively waved the banner, using all his might to focus on letting Toby know his best friends believed in him - rather than his own panicky loss of breath.