Eternal glory awaits the winner of the Triwizard tournament, however before achieving it, each of the six champions must go through three tasks. Three dangerous, life-threatening tasks. Do you dare put your name in?
Andrew meets the age requirement to apply, but he hasn't sat his OWLs yet so of course he can't throw his name in. Lame. All he wanted was to go out in a blaze of glory. A bit irked that he can't put his name in, he sits by with a fair amount of students, waiting for someone to get the balls to throw their name into the Goblet.
- "The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff." Message Me - 18:26, July 30, 2018 (UTC)
Having shown up just to watch all the brave idiots who are risking their lives for this stupid tournament, you can imagine Donnie's face when he watched Xavier walk up. He'd yell if he weren't in such awe.
Victoria came along to watch because it actually seemed fun. She' like many others, had heard about the famous 1994 tournament, and wondered, however unlikely, if this years one would be just as dramatic.
Poppy didn't really come here to participate, she just wanted to be somewhere new - somewhere with a new student body she can conquer. On that note, she's currently watching the people putting in their names for the Tournament, silently judging them from her seat on the bleachers. When she sees Amber Wilson from Ilvermorny step up into the Goblet of Fire, she couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Wow, Wilson, feeling ballsy, aren't we?" She calls out, a playful smirk on her face.
"Clearly they have, but there are still diamonds in the rough," she says, slightly adjusting her posture into a more regal manner to make it clear that she's referring to herself. "I'm Poppy, by the way. Poppy Blaisdel. But most of the American idiots who came with me to this place refer to me as 'Queen'," she proclaims, a cocky smirk on her face.
This girl stinks of privilege and power, and Whitney's kinda living for it. "Whitney du Mont. And let me be the first to say, looking at you is like looking into a caucasian mirror." She smirks, "Welcome to Hogwarts."
Amused with Whitney's last statement, Poppy lets out a laugh before extending her hand for a handshake. She rarely ever does this, but she thinks Whitney is worthy. "I think you and I are going to get along really well."
Duke is staring on at the Goblet of Fire, looking lost in his own thoughts. The hall is empty as everyone is currently headed down to the lake to watch the first task, but honestly? He can't bring himself to go down there yet.
He's patrolling the halls when he says a shadow cast in the great hall - one which resembles a very familiar first year. He steps into the great hall, hands in pockets, and stands next to the student. "Sickle for your thoughts?"
Duke tenses out of instinct. He's so used to getting caught mid-rule breaking that he's already thinking of ways to get out of detention; until he remembers he isn't skipping, isn't doing anything else wrong. "I'll take a galleon," he says, grinning cheekily, not really interested in talking much.
"Ahh, ha! I get it," he grins, lifting his pointer and aiming at Sev. "Smart, professor, smart," There's a brief pause as he recollects his thoughts. "I don't know. The tournament, I guess. My brothers. Yearmates," he shrugs. "Everything. Nothing."
"Are you sure you wanna listen to a random first year just blab and whine? The first task is about to start," he points out, voice teasing. He knows it's in vain; Professor Evreux doesn't know when, where or how to stop. He kinda appreciates it, though; rarely does anyone actually listen to him instead of just write him off like a loser.
"Cheesy. I like it," Duke wiggles his eyebrows, a playful grin on his face. "Dunno. I just - I wish I could put my name in the goblet. Prove myself to everyone, you know? I feel like I'm so... underestimated. Dom didn't wanna believe I was a Ravenclaw like him, and I can see why, but... I dunno, man. I thought my own brother would support me more."
He folds his arm. "Well. I certainly see why you'd want to put your name in. You're not half bad, at least in my subject, which is obviously the most important one." He says with a half smile, and a friendly nudge. "But putting your name into a competition that could almost kill you is no way of proving to your brother that you're worthy." He explains, "You can show him in other ways."
He scoffs. "All Dom cares is about looking good in front of others. Me showing him up? He'd hate it. Me being dumb? He'd hate it. It's like - I should've just been able to put my name in. At least I'd earn the school's respect like that," he shrugs. He's quiet for a few long moments, still gathering his thoughts. "I wanna do something good."
He considers this for a moment, and then it’s hits him. He pulls out a photo from his back pocket and hands it to Duke. The photo is a group photo, definitely old - black and white, very nineties. It’s got some familiar faces that Duke would recognise - Harry Potter, Hermione Granger - and underneath the group is a typewritten caption; Dumbledore’s Army - 1995. “You’ve got skill, some of which your brother doesn’t have. Use it to help others. Let that be your legacy, not throwing your name into some silly competition. And you’ll be surprised how much he’s gonna support you.”
When Severin extends him the picture, he's initially confused. He takes it and studies it for what seems like an eternity but is truly just a couple minutes. When he sees the faces, recognizes them, and actually processes what Sev is hinting at, Duke looks up at him, genuinely surprised. "Dumbledore's Army? But - but I don't have the skills for that," He's both touched and surprised anyone believes in him enough to imply he could do something like start the DA up again.
He gives him a gentle nudge. "Come on now. You've mastered every spell we've covered, and you clearly understand what we're doing. With some extra leg-work on your part, you'd be fine skills-wise." He says, "Plus, you're a natural leader. It's the perfect thing for you to channel your energy into." He explains.
Duke is clearly contemplating it. Not even ten seconds later, and he's nodding, resolute. "I need a moderator, sign-up sheets, an area to host meetings in, and... someone else to train me too," he says decidedly. "If I'm gonna teach, I wanna be taught everything ahead of time."
Amongst the whispering crowd, the third contender weaved to the front with a shock of distinguishable red curls bouncing behind her. She held a piece of parchment paper between her index and middle finger and disc-threw it into the fire. In turn, the blue flames hungrily devored the paper and wavered with gratitude. She turned, flashed the crowd a smile before disappearing back into the growing populace.
With her usual strut, she walks towards the goblet, crossing the age line gracefully and with a flourish. She reveals an origami bird, with her name in cursive written along it's body. Using her wand, she directs the bird elegantly (with a few loop-de-loops) into the flames. "Alea iacta est." She whispers, The die is cast, before making her way back to the crowd of bystanders, flipping her hair as she crosses the age line back to her peers.
Her head was high as she walked to the goblet, barely taking any notice to the people around her, though she assumed all the attention was on her, per usual. She tossed her parchment, her name neatly scrolled onto it, into the flames. The movement was delicate and purposeful and she paused for a moment to watch the flames devour it. After it was done, she disappeared back into the crowd.
- "I came. I saw. I turned right back around and walked the f*** out."
Message Me - 13:29, July 30, 2018 (UTC)
Let's get one thing straight: the only reason Hephaestus was approaching the goblet in the first place was because of his family name. His pride wouldn't allow him to stand to the side as all these other lesser students participated in the brave act. Seeing his sister go put her name in was enough to send him sashaying towards the fire, his nose turned up the way it always seemed to be. He didn't really want to be chosen. But he sure as hell didn't let anyone know that as he wore a cocky smirk. Folding up his small piece of parchment, his name written as a celebrity's signature on the inside, Festus flicked his name into the flames. He watched it settle into the heat, knowing he'd done the Black family name proud. On his way back to the crowd, he sneered at a couple of younger students before finding a place beside some fellow Slytherins.
She'd nervously move to the goblet and gently drop in the piece of parchment with her name on it. She knew she would make a poor champion and that any of the other girls would probably be picked over her...but that was ok. She still felt like she should put her name in and she knew she'd be fine even if she wasn't picked. She'd have more than enough to do as Head Girl this year.
To be completely fair, Xavi was half asleep as he nonchalantly walked up to the Goblet of Fire. If he was completely awake, maybe he'd be thinking through the consequences of putting his name in the Goblet of Fire but really, he couldn't care less either way. The likelihood of him being picked over anyone else was as good as zero and it'd be fun just to toss it in there. He smirked, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket with his name scribbled neatly in cursive on the inside, and dropped it into the goblet before walking away, ignoring everyone around him. Felicity was going to kill him, oh well.
Was his family going to kill him? Probably, was Andy going to beat the crap out of him? Of course. But Freddie wasn’t thinking about all of that as he walked up to the goblet and swallowed hard, he pulled out his piece of paper and hesitantly dropped it into the goblet. His heart was pounding as he turned around and left, glancing over to see Andy and quickly looking away.
Striding past the gathered crowds, head held high, he crossed the line easily, paper with his name in two fingers. If he didn't get chosen, then oh well. This seemed like fun. As he headed up to the Goblet, he knew his stride would gather attention as he lazily flicked the paper into the flames, turning to leave the Great Hall with no one being the wiser.
-Elle a besoin de sa bête pour la protéger de tout sauf de lui. Message Me – 01:36, August 6, 2018 (UTC)
She wanted to put her name in first-- Before Jamil and the others. So, this was the first stop she made once she was free. She wrote her name on a blank piece of paper, and tossed it into the fire, staring as it ate it up. Once she as content with the result, she stepped back, smirking.
He's written his name in the French alphabet, but also in Arabic, underneath, to stay true to his roots. Under his breath, he whispers "Bismillah", a common Muslim term which means 'I begin in the name of Allah', and kisses the parchment, before throwing it in, and watching wide-eyed as it is consumed by flame. He then backs away slowly, into the crowd.
Moira had ditched the Beauxbatons uniform in favor of a stunning purple dress with hand-stitched flowers that flowed around her whenever she moved, each of her blonde ringlets curled more meticulously than the last. The crowd parted with ease to reveal her small frame before she stepped forward without hesitation and strode toward the goblet. Pulling out a pink notebook, she wrote her name in delicate cursive before tearing the piece off and dropping it into the blue flames. Spinning on the balls of her feet, Moira did an adorable little curtsy to the next Beauxbatons student and vanished back into the crowd.
-“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” ~Sarah Williams Message Me – 00:05, August 6, 2018 (UTC)
She put a lot of thought into what sort of paper to write her name on and ultimately went for a pink notecard, folded in half once. She strolls over the age line and tosses her notecard gently into the goblet, then turns and heads back to hang with the other bystanders. It'd be great to be picked, but even if she isn't she still gets to watch, and she's sure it'll be quite the event either way.
She's gonna go for it. It's a big deal, to prove it to herself, to her peers and to everyone who's been a naysayer. Throwing her name in, she watches as the parchment is consumed by the flames. What have I just done?
Jacob LawsonThunderbird Sixth Year -Torn between two worlds – 00:49, August 10, 2018 (UTC)
He confidently strode towards the Cup. He stepped over the age line without much thought-- he knew he was old enough. He tossed in a small piece of parchment bearing his name in the neatest handwriting he could manage. He watched for a moment as the flames engulfed it before glancing around to see who else was entering, before heading out.