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Fern-hunting parties became popular, allowing young women to get outside in a seemingly innocuous pursuit with less rigid oversight and chaperoning than they saw in parlors and drawing rooms. They may have even had the occasional romantic meetup with a similarly fern-impassioned beau. — Bree

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Bunny Devon for Anne Devon. My fair lady of the night
Separating was also not a great idea, though they weren't doing great at staying together anyway. If she were to volunteer to be the human sacrifice.. well... Hogsmeade had plenty of debutantes anyway...

Barnabas Skeeter in CYOA: Group D

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Complete threads set in ten different forum locations. Threads must have at least ten posts, and three must be your own. Character accounts cannot be combined.


Distracted Frame of Mind
May 4th, 1888 - Puddlemere United Stadium at this event

Typically Rufus did not mind fancy events, he didn’t mind chatting with fans and young ladies alike. This gala Rufus did mind. For the first reason, he was trying to focus on the first game of the season. It was difficult to do this in the first place in light of recent events with a certain young lady on his mind. But even more so when he had to attend a gala such as this one. Second, Rufus had to polish up for a fancy event only to return to is quidditch robes. He’d rather be on his broom looping around in quidditch robes than standing stiff in his muggle suit.

The gala was in full swing when Rufus arrived, greeting some gentlemen who were huge fans of the team. Yes, yes, he hoped their season was as successful as the last too, he mentally shushed them before making his way deeper into the crowd. His eyes were scanning for someone, although he did doubt she’d be here. Despite her fondness for the team, he was sure loyalty for her brother would win out. But perhaps she would be here.

Rufus was distracted enough that he bumped into someone by the food table, knocking their plate out of their hands. In a deft move, reflexes honed by years chasing quaffles, Rufus caught the plate before it could really do any harm. “Here.” He handed the plate back, adding sincerely, “I do apologize.

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BEE-utiful set!
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❧ May 4th, 1888
Puddlemere United Stadium
Leave it to Lach and Quill to drag her to such an event. Tilda had next to nothing wrong with Quidditch, but she wasn't nearly as big a fan as her brothers. Still, Tilda enjoyed being in the middle of the rowdy crowd, and she could handle herself there in the middle of a crowd. With her chaperone not far behind her, Tilda navigated the busy crowd to the food table, remembering the last time she'd gotten a decent meal was most likely yesterday - long shifts at the hospital did that to you.

Soon after the plate was full, and looking quite delicious to the witch, she moved to go back to the tables and sit down for a bite to eat. Someone bumped her though, and she let out an exclamation of surprise as her plate headed south. Before disappointment and frustration (she was hangry) could set in too much, a pair of hands caught the rather full plate before anything could slip off of it. Forever grateful, yet still rather miffed that her plate had almost ended up on the floor, Tilda looked up to see who the offender was.

She blinked in semi-shock as she recognized him as the First String Chaser for the very team whose gala she'd been dragged to. And he was quite the gentleman, apologizing to her; no wonder he caught the plate though, he was one of the team's best players. "Oh, no harm, no foul," she stated, flashing him a smile before looking down at her plate - though a MacFusty, she still was a little self conscious at really how full she'd packed her meal. "I..I haven't eaten since yesterday..." she managed to get out, before her cheeks flushed pink. Oh, Merlin now she just sounded like a woman who wanted to keep her figure. Stop talking, you dolt!

Giving her a half smile at her easy forgiveness Rufus prepared to move on, that was until she mentioned she hadn't eaten. His brow furrowed, she didn't look like she couldn't afford to eat given her dress, but he had known young ladies to not eat for reasons such as their figure too, yet they didn't pile their plate high with food after only one day. "That seems rather a shame." Rufus replied, knowing it not polite to truly inquire about it, after all they were to be on their best behavior while attending. Although his response, while half in jest, might not come off as he'd like it.

"Here," Rufus grabbed a plate from the buffet and began to fill it, "I'll join you. I haven't eaten in five hours and that seems a shame too." Then no one would really consider how full the young lady's plate was, which he had concluded was the reason for the blush on her cheeks. He gave her an easy smile as he quickly piled the food up nearly as high as her own. At least the game was three hours away, if he was going to eat now was the time. "You can just say I'm so selfish I needed two plates." He told her with a wink, hoping that he hadn't crossed a line with that last comment. He gestured toward a table near them and started that way.

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BEE-utiful set!
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Tilda tried to keep the deep flush that was slowly turning to match her hair color out of her cheeks was beginning to become a challenge. The witch did her best to brush her hair away from her face - maybe then the similarities in color wouldn't be so apparent.

Thankfully he might have been distracted as he reached to grab a plate. "Five hours?" she repeated, allowing herself to glance over his form. It wasn't really necessary, and was meant to be in jest, but she did notice that the years of Quidditch and athleticism had done nothing but help his physique. Not that she was looking. Nope.

The wink got a laugh out of her - at least he was able to treat the situation with humor rather than embarrassment, as she had done. "I appreciate you wanting to protect my pride, sir," she said, gripping her plate more firmly so as to not lose half its contents to the floor. "I'd like to believe the public would be as forgiving of a healer not having had a break in her shift as they would an athlete preparing for his game!"

Apologies for the wait!
Yep!” He confirmed cheerfully at her skepticism. He still ate much like he was a growing boy, although he supposed it had something to do with how active he was during the day. Rufus could almost never sit still for long periods of time.

She was a healer, that was interesting. A thought occurred in the back of his mind, but he wanted to get to know her first before he jumped to any conclusions. Buuut… Tommy did have a habit of getting himself into situations where a young healer may be someone worth him knowing. Rufus glanced around the room for his teammate, wondering where the man had gotten himself too.

Anyone who doesn’t think so is a fool who hold healers in very low regard.” Rufus assured her kindly as he guided them to a table and sat down.

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BEE-utiful set!
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Thomas hated public events – especially ones where he was thrust into the spotlight and expected to be prim and proper and be the face of Puddlemere United which, as circumstance would have it, is exactly what this was. The opening gala had begun and Thomas had spent the good part of an hour sitting in a room by himself adjusting his suit and going over his game plan for the match.

Him and Rufus had a solid plan in mind as to how to not only get as many hoops for the team but also how to actually distract their opponents – but it had to go off without a hitch. It had to be perfect.

Once he was satisfied, Thomas burst through the doors with some sort of semi-elegant swagger. He was immediately approached by a few people who, as luck would have it, loved the team.

“I’m not worryin’, sir. We have a good strategy and as good as Wimbourne are – they are not a good match for Puddlemere. I hope to see you in the stalls,” he smiled, shook the mans hand, and left. He didn’t want to do this. He wasn’t even hungry though the food – oh the food – it looked tempting.

He made his way over to the table and grabbed a plate of food before moving around, half-looking for someone he recognised, half hoping that he wouldn’t be recognised again which, of course, was a foolish thought. No less than thirty six seconds had he moved from the food table was he ambushed again.

Thomas made a quick exit once he saw Bixby. He sat down opposite his teammate and practically dropped his food on the table.

“Merlin on a road, Bixby. I ain’t cut out for thi-” Thomas began before he noticed the woman Rufus was sat next to, “Oh bloody ‘ell. Names’ Tilcott. Chaser. Nice to see you and hope to see your support durin’ the game an’ all that.” He said, picking up a bread roll and tearing into it.

“I just wanna play.”

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