22nd August, 1890 — Morocco vs. Britain World Cup Match
Howler Stadium

The Blackwood box had a buffet. And an open bar. And a number of quidditch colleagues, never mind an excellent view of the match from the top of the stadium. He’d brought his brother along on the invitation to enjoy it, and he had come along to say his hellos and thank-yous and to be polite.

But he had also spent a galleon on a seat in the public stands, always intending to slip away when everyone was too engrossed in the match and go squeeze onto the bench beside Elsie like he’d promised. He had been on his way to going already when someone else had drawn him back into conversation about the beaters on the field, and then... then MacFusty’s bludger hit went hurtling into the stands.

He rushed to the front of the box, aghast, scanning for the damage, as just about everyone else was. Someone with the binocular eye-glasses seemed certain that somebody had been hurt - badly, horrifically, perhaps mortally - though they couldn’t see who. Tyb squinted. It was the mid-tier of the stands. Oh no. Oh no.

The chances were a million to one, probably, that out of the whole stadium it might be her, but - but he couldn’t just sit around to wait and see while a bludger tore through the stands wreaking damage. What if - what if?

Shit. He dashed to the door of the box, digging out his ticket for Elsie’s section and wracking his brain to try and find a shortcut to where she was. He took off down the stairs two at a time, heart hammering as heavy as his footsteps, the cries of the commentator and the crowd echoing faintly in his ears. There were other people appearing, spilling out of where they had been sitting in horror and confusion and probably the same panic he was in, but they were a blur, and he pushed past on the shortest route to her, thankful that at least he wasn’t a stranger to this stadium.

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The following 4 users Like Tybalt Kirke's post:4 users Like Tybalt Kirke's post
   Cadawalader Selwyn, Elsie Kirke, Justice Rookwood, Sisse Thompsett

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Mercifully Tyb was not playing in this match and Elsie wasn't even sure why she was here, but Owen and Harvey had dictated her presence, since she'd gotten to go into a nice box last time, that she revisit the experience from the normal stands. It wasn't any better really, but she'd agreed to come, if only because Tyb had also purchased a ticket near to them, so they could catch a few minutes together, even if in public. He'd been in the second string box for the first part of the match, as far as he knew, but she'd see him soon. Instead she was stuck wringing Harvey's arm every time somebody was viciously hit and the injuries to the players started to accumulate.

One of the chasers was ferociously hit again and then something happened to a bludger, sending it straight into the stands and that was when the chaos erupted. Elsie felt her stomach drop as she watched the bludger smash into a mid-tier box, though she was fairly certain Tyb was up higher, she dread settled into her gut rather quickly as everyone around her started scrambling to either see what happened to leave. Harvey was required to go check in with his boss, looking white as a sheet, which left Elsie with her younger siblings and Mrs. Haynes. Everything went sideways as people pushed and shoved their way through the stands themselves and since Elsie had been on the far end of the row, she'd already been separated. She could just barely see her chaperon's blue hat at the top of the stairs with her siblings before disappearing.

On a good day, Elsie could handle a small crowd without much help- in a situation like this, she could barely breathe for the anxiety that built up in her system. Some people were moving toward the exit, many were staying put to see what happened next and Elsie was caught somewhere in between, following the small flow of people toward the stairs, but she stumbled, near the back of the stands. Trying to keep Mrs. Haynes visible was impossible and she only made it down a couple flights of stairs before her legs gave out entirely. At this point she wasn't even sure where in the stadium she was and so she promptly rooted herself to the spot trying not to lose herself in the oncoming panic attack without anyone she knew to help her.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

If he’d gotten a headstart in leaving the box, about halfway there his luck changed as the tide of the crowd turned against him, everyone heading downwards in a hurry to get out of there. Tybalt pushed through where he could, accidentally bumping shoulders as he tried to squeeze past on the stairs, wishing he had a broom on him to get there faster.

Because it was half his fault she was even here. It would have been worse if he’d been playing - Christ, he could have been in MacFusty’s place - but since he wasn’t Elsie might well have begged off from enduring another match if he hadn’t joined her brothers in pestering her to come anyway. She disliked quidditch on the best of days, and this? Merlin help her, she would never watch another match.

But that was not the worst of it, and Tyb didn’t dare think about the worst of it, about what damage the bludger might have done in this time, about why the whole stadium seemed shaken by it. It had hit someone. Please let it not be her.

He was still moving towards the place she was sitting, but realised he might have missed her already and so had to keep stopping to peer frantically through the sea of faces, lest he saw her. He thought he caught a glimpse of Owen Beauregard, and his heart thudded up into his throat as he looked at the people around him, none of whom were her. Maybe it hadn’t even been her brother.

Clinging to the railing, Tyb hauled himself a few steps further towards the benches in this box, trying not to let the panic take the reins. “Elsie?!” He couldn’t prevent himself from raising his voice though he knew it wasn’t subtle, wouldn’t look good in ordinary circumstances. But the rest of the crowd, surely, must presently be too preoccupied to care, so he would take his chances. (He said, as if he was thinking straight at all.) “ELSIE!”

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The following 1 user Likes Tybalt Kirke's post:1 user Likes Tybalt Kirke's post
   Fallon Gillespie

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Elsie had backed up away from people as far as she could, which landed her underneath the stands of the level above, a little ways back, enough room to breathe for a moment. She wanted desperately to apparate out, but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn't even fathom making the attempt without splinching herself somehow. What an utter disaster that would be. The last thing she needed was the be part of the headline for this in the newspaper.

The commotion was still going on and she couldn't find any real distance from it. She leaned against one of the support beams of the stands, the heels of her hands pressed into her eyes to stem the oncoming tears. She had to get herself together enough to get out of here, either by apparating out or manage to survive the crowd to the bottom of the stands, but neither looked likely any time soon.

Trying to control her breathing wasn't working either and the less success she had with it, the more worked up she got- that was when she heard it. The first time she though she'd been imagining it, but her attention had snapped up anyway, moving forward toward the throng of people to make sure. The second time was louder and more worried and Elsie felt the relief flood her system even as she surged forward again. "Tyb!" She managed in a loud squeak, still breathless and shaky. She pushed to her tiptoes to try and make herself more visible, but she didn't dare leave her hiding spot altogether. "Over here! She added, a bit stronger, but more forced, panicked voice cracking in the process. Oh Merlin she hoped he could hear her!

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MJ always makes her so pretty

He might have been imagining it, too. But just as he was on the verge of giving up, Tybalt’s gaze latched onto a figure only slightly in view under a beam. He lurched into movement again, making the last of the way in double-time and not stopping until he had flung his arms around her.

She looked upset - expected - and he had no idea if that was because she was hurt, because she’d seen it happen or from sheer distress in the aftermath, but the only conclusion he had was she’s still in one piece, and for a moment, that was plenty to hold onto.

“Thank Merlin,” he breathed, holding her so tightly he thought it was more for his benefit than hers. Elsie was usually the one to worry beyond all reason, but how else could he explain the fervent feeling in every nerve? He felt like he was swaying on his feet in pure relief. “Thank God.” His eyes were squeezed shut over her shoulder, though he knew he should step back and take stock. He was fairly sure she had looked on the verge of tears. “Please say you’re okay.”

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Just as she thought she'd missed him, the next thing Elsie knew, she was nearly knocked off her feet by the impact of Tyb colliding with her. More relieved than she could possibly articulate, Elsie clung to him, fingers tightly curled into the front of his shirt like a lifeline.

Nodding against his chest, Elsie tried to find words to answer his question. She was unharmed, but panicked beyond anything she had ever felt before. "Everything stopped, the match, everyone around us, then it was chaos," The words she did manage came out in choked sobs, barely distinguishable as coherent thoughts. "It sounded really bad and lots of people panicked, we started to leave but I got separated and I couldn't find anyone and I couldn't apparate," Her body still shook from both the anxiety and the tears. The bludger had gone into the boxes not too far from where they'd been sitting today and very close to where they'd been last time.

"I'm so thankful you're here and not playing." That was what it all boiled down to. Merlin she couldn't do this anymore, no more quidditch. She wrapped her arms all the way around him and held on tight. "I can't be here anymore." Everything was really hitting her hard now and she was not going to last much longer without succumbing to the panic attack entirely.

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The following 1 user Likes Elsie Kirke's post:1 user Likes Elsie Kirke's post
   Elias Grimstone

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MJ always makes her so pretty

If he were honest, the thoughts flooding through his head were no more comprehensible than Elsie’s anxious explanation. He didn’t know what had happened - didn’t want to think what could have - but some of the things people had been shrieking as he’d passed them had been...

“I know,” was all he managed at first, sincerely hoping the more tightly he held her, the sooner her shaking would stop. “Me too,” he mumbled at the question of not playing. The disaster of the match he’d played in was one thing to make him glad for his Ministry career, but this. Merlin. If he had been the one to hit the bludger - well, he wasn’t sure he would ever get on a broom again, let alone pick up a bat. He only wished he had been here, sitting in the box beside her all along. It had been stupid to even make her come.

“They’ll be fine, I think I saw your brother on the way down,” Tyb assured her, swallowing in some attempt to calm himself down, not let the anxiety take hold of them both. This was madness. “I’ll apparate us out,” he breathed, realising her family might be worried for her, but that neither of them would know where to find them, and that Elsie wasn’t nearly calm enough to apparate alone. He had to exhale again as he held onto her, trying to find a moment long enough to picture somewhere else without visions of the stands and the crowds and the bludger bursting into mind. No one needed to get splinched now.

“Ready?” Tybalt warned her, holding tight and shutting his eyes as they disapparated out. Out of the stands had been the priority: maybe he should have aimed for just beyond the stadium. He had meant to take them back to his room in Bartonburg, not far for her to get home but also just somewhere comfortable, somewhere known. Away from the the panic and the people.

When he opened his eyes and loosened his grasp around her ever so slightly, it was to the shore of the Black Lake. They had never really spent time together on this side of it - somewhere across it was the spot in the grounds of Hogwarts where they had - but it was deserted here, the air was fresh, and the water was spectacularly calm today, so maybe it had been a good instinct after all. 

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Just having him close was doing wonders to help calm her, but she knew she was nowhere near ready to apparate and so when he said he would, all she could do was nod against his shoulder and close her eyes against the upcoming discomfort.

It wasn't so bad, but perhaps she was still focused elsewhere. As the darkness swallowed them and they appeared on the other side, Elsie was relieved by the quiet around them. She peered over Tyb's shoulder to find them at the edge of the Lake, the smooth surface of the water a familiar sight by now. Misadventures in a rowboat came to mind and helped to calm her further. She took a deep breath, grateful that it seemed to be thoroughly deserted.

Knowing that they were no longer hidden in a throng of people, but still in public, Elsie took one more deep breath before disentangling herself from where she was still wrapped around Tyb, brushing stray strands of hair as she took a half a step back. It wasn't too far of a walk home from here, but she wasn't entirely ready for that either. She needed time to get herself together before she even attempted to explain to her mother what had happened and how she'd gotten separated.

Thankfully away from the chaos of the stands, she could finally feel her heartbeat start to slow. "I think that will be my last quidditch match." She sighed, a weak attempt at breaking the tension.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

He didn’t much want to let her go, but he needed to catch his breath as well, so he only gave her arm a light squeeze as she stepped back. He knew something was wrong by the difficulty in trying to answer her comment with a chuckle, or even the slightest smile, because neither came. His mouth moved slightly, but it felt more like a tremble than anything.

Maybe his body hadn’t caught up, yet, with events. The apparating; the crowd; the tearing across a quidditch stadium; the tension from seeing that bludger hit the stands and not knowing who it had hit, not knowing where Elsie was -

She was right in front of him. Tyb rubbed his face in his hands for a moment as though he’d just woken up with bleary eyes; dropping his hands to his sides, he inhaled deeply. After that, he felt more settled, and even just observing Elsie was anchoring him, and they were on solid ground and he should stop thinking about that bludger.

“You know,” he said, in visible relief, “I’ve never been so glad I wasn’t playing, either.” More than anything, he was glad it hadn’t been his bludger hit. He grimaced at her in apology, scuffing the tip of his shoe in the grass. “I’m so sorry I made you go today.”

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All Elsie could do was shake her head. She'd survived a fair few matches, professional and world cup, nobody would have been able to predict what had happened today. "Nobody's fault, no apologies." She waved off his apology easily. It as a tragedy that somebody had been injured and worse but they'd escaped unscathed and for that she was grateful. No more quidditch for her. Even Owen's future matches would be second-hand through somebody else.

"Walk me home?" They could take the long way, but Elsie rather thought she would need some tea and to lie down after everything that had happened. The fresh air and breathing room would also do her some good. She could still hear the chaos and feel the crowd around her, even now, but the space would help and the company of course.

Without thinking about it, or caring much as to who saw at this particular moment, Elsie looped her arm through Tyb's and started off along one of the lanes that kept close to the edge of the lake for a little bit. The familiar sounds of the park were doing wonders for her nerves, comforting in the serenity of the emptiness, such a stark contrast to the overcrowded stands.

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MJ always makes her so pretty