[Hamburg] Evacuate the dance floor [Gravesend Griffins]

Cloé was a child of the warm and sunny climes, but she was thoroughly enjoying her time in Germany. The team had won a hard-fought victory, which was always cause for celebration. The score had been neck and neck until their seeker had caught the snitch, ending the game and giving the Griffins the win. Afterwards, the Italian-born Chaser had been braced for a hostile reception by the German National fans and team but she had been pleasantly surprised. In England, beating the home team was cause to immediately vacate the area for a less hostile party spot, but they had been met outside the lockers by the German team, all smiles and handshakes.

From what Cloé could gather, the team had been looking forward to this game for weeks and the Griffins did not disappoint. So despite the fact that they had lost, their gracious hosts wanted to party with them, show them the best places around the town of Hamburg, and to also sneak them out of the stadium past the press waiting to trail them around. After a quick talk with the rest of the team, Harlan as captain had accepted the offer. So after a long walk through several back alleys and side streets, the team found themselves at steps leading down into the basement of what looked like an abandoned warehouse.

Walking down the steps next to the German Chaser Igor, who had been ruthlessly flirting with her all through the walk, with César and Roxy just behind her, and Harlan and the Keeper Herman Wiel leading the way, they walked out of the quiet night and into a wall of sound. The large room practically vibrated with the music emitting from the speakers. Lights flashed through a thin layer of fog, changing colors at irregular intervals. "Oh!" Cloé practically squealed in excitement. "I was dying to come to a club like this!" A fan of any kind of party, Cloé had no problem with the heavy techno music pumping through the air. The writhing, bouncing crowd in the center of the space looked so inviting. She just waned to throw herself into it with abandon. Besides the excuse of close quarters to get more familiar with the hansom Chaser, the dance floor looked like a good time just waiting to happen.

Cloé snuck a quick look behind her to see what her companions' reactions were to their party spot. She had a feeling that Harlan and Rob, the old men of the group would be less than thrilled at the music selection, but the bar that filled an entire wall of the enormous space and the abundance of beautiful ladies in various states of intoxication and undress would probably perk them up soon enough. Of course, her main concern was her overprotective big brother. Cloé shot him a sweet pout, pleading with her eyes. Can I go out and play? she asked silently. It was unnecessary to speak; it was too loud in here to be heard by anyone more than a few inches from you and she and César didn't need to verbalize to communicate. It was what made them a force to be reckoned with on the pitch. She was sure he knew exactly what she was thinking, which was another kind of problem entirely.

This wasn’t César’s first time in Germany, and it wouldn’t be his last. The Griffins had just nabbed a spectacular victory right out from under the noses of the German National Team. It was exhilarating, and the reception from the German fans was better than he expected. All in all, it had been quite a day, and César was ready to let loose and party, as was the team’s wont after every victory. For a while, after the brawl with Archie, he had skipped the team parties in an attempt to clean up his image. He did not want to be seen by the press anywhere in the vicinity of alcohol. The following weeks had involved a lot of charity-related public appearances on behalf of the team as he attempted to atone for his earlier sins.

Tonight, though, he knew he didn’t need to worry about any of that. His reputation and relations with the rest of the team were looking up. Together, he and Cloé had scored several key goals for the team, helping the Griffins keep up with the German team until the Griffins seeker had caught the snitch and ended the game. César knew he - and they, as a team, he had to remind himself - had done well, and he was proud of his performance. When Harlan had asked if the rest of the team wanted to go to a club with the German team, César had readily agreed. He had changed back into the outfit he had worn before the game, a simple white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, black dress trousers, and black dress shoes.

Close to an hour later, he found himself walking with the rest of his teammates, led by the Germans, along the side streets of Hamburg. On the way to the club, César made small talk with the blonde-haired, blue-eyed German beater Elena Eldritch. She was beautiful, but his attention was distracted by Igor, the German chaser who was getting much too friendly with Cloé. César opened his mouth to say something to the other chaser when someone opened the door to the club. The noise hit him like a wave, initially almost indiscernible as music to his ears. As they entered the club, he could see that everything was covered in a thin layer of fog. Wonderful. His eyes watered slightly from the noise and the smoke, and it took him a moment to be able to see anything as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

His dark brown eyes flitted quickly about the place, assessing the situation. At least there appeared to be plenty of women there that evening, though how many of them would be in a fit state for companionship remained to be seen. Spotting the bar, he smiled broadly. His eyes slid over to his sister. At least she seemed excited about their outing. As their eyes met, he could see that she was silently asking for him to let her go. He glanced briefly up toward the ceiling, which he couldn’t see through the darkness and the haze of the smoke, before looking back down at her with a look as if to say, All right, if you must. Turning to the rest of his teammates, his gaze jumped from face to face as he asked, “Who wants to join me for a drink? The first round is on me.”

"Right then, get cleaned up," Harlan Bellamy spoke softly, although the authoritative tone in voice was impossible to be ignored, as evident by his team scurrying off to the lockers without hesitation. "And... kid," He addressed the youngest member of the Griffins without so much as a cursory glance, his steel colored gazed focused on the jersey he began to take off before showering. "For shit's sake, make it fast," Harlan teased so much as a smile before going his own way to get changed.

The Gravesend Grffins had won their match in the last breath of the game, their seeker catching the snitch just before the opponent could wrap his hand around it. The scores between them and the German National team had been neck and neck for majority of the game which left a very happy, and quite frankly, very rowdy crowd of Germans. The experienced beater knew from history that the team was far from hostile, but even he was surprised when they offered their opponent to a night on the town, an escape from the press included. He had no choice but to oblige, his team visibly pleased by the captain's decision to lead them on a night of letting loose.

After what felt like a lifetime of empty, dark alleyways and backroads, the two teams arrived to the back door of their destination, the music a distance thumping through the thick brick walls. It wasn't until they were led inside that they were met with the insanity within. Immediately, Harlan recognized the need for a drink. There was no way this music was going to get good on his own. Grey eyes scanning the faces of the Griffins, he noticed the German chaser Igor had taken particular interest in Cloé. Ignoring his protective instinct though, Harlan's interest was piqued at the mention of drinks.

"First rounds on you, Cardozo?" He repeated, eyeing the bar with interest. "You bet your ass it is after you nearly touched the snitch ten minutes in," Harlan mocked his captains voice, giving his teammate a reassuring clap on the back. "Gilchrest!" He shouted over the music. "Don't be distracted by the short skirts, mate, plenty to go around! Let's get a drink," He assured, leading the way.

The rest of the team seemed to be in high spirits after their win, but all Rob could think about was getting to some liquor…fast.  He didn’t think his performance on the pitch was at all up to his normal standard.  Rob scowled as he changed into a gray button-up shirt and black pants, counting the seconds until he could get out of the locker room.  He had let in eleven goals this match, a number frighteningly high.  If the game had gone on much longer, he could have very well cost his entire team the win.  It didn’t matter that the German Keeper had let in an equal number of shots, Rob was still thoroughly discouraged about the whole matter.  It had been quite some time since he had played against Germany, and they had obviously improved their line. 

Rob attempted to shrug off his feelings of inadequacy when the rival team invited them all out.  Silently still pissed off, he agreed grudgingly when it seemed as if the rest of the team wanted to go.  He didn’t particularly want to have to deal with the press by himself, or drink alone tonight.  Cloé flitted along like a hyperactive bird, and Rob stifled a chuckle at her exuberance.  Before leaving, he made sure to stop in at the med station and check on Roxy, who waved him on ahead and told him she’d catch up later.  The co-captain had taken a fairly nasty bludger close to the end of the match, but Rob was sure she’d pull through.  Roxy was tough as nails.

He frowned upon seeing their destination.  Loud music and huge crowds of people weren’t exactly his thing, but Rob had never been able to tell Cloé no since the day he met her.  Grudgingly, he stomped inside and was quickly accosted by a girl who was wearing an outfit leaving very little to the imagination.

A shout drew his attention, and also the girl’s, who huffed and stalked away irritably after hearing Harlan’s comment.  Rob smirked and elbowed his way closer to the bar, bumping into his captain an good friend purposefully.  “Bellamy!”  he bellowed, to be heard over the music, “That was a sure thing, you ass!”  He squinted and caught a glimpse of Cloé, already heading out to the dance floor, German Chaser in tow.  Rob turned and elbowed her brother.  “Might want to keep an eye on your sister, kid. Igor has a reputation.  But let’s do a few shots before we butt in, since you’re buying!” He ruffled César’s hair, knowing it would irritate the Chaser.

Cloé waited as César looked to the heavens for patience, then clapped excitedly as her brother gave his silent consent. "So which one of you fine gentlemen is going to have a drink ready for me once I'm done dancing?" she called out to the men-folk headed to the bar. Internally, she chuckled at the thinly-veiled protective looks that were shot her way. She was hardly a lightweight and was perfectly capable of handling herself but she supposed that next to Roxy, she looked like a delicate flower. She hoped the pretty bruiser was healing up quickly. She would hate to miss a chance to see her reaction to the club.

Giving Igor's hand a tug, the Chaser headed towards the thump and lights of the dance floor. On the way, she managed to grab some of the glowing bracelets and necklaces that were being passed out to the crowd. She let Igor slip the bracelets on her wrists while she tossed a necklace over his head, using it to pull him into the throng of dancers. Cloé kept to the outside of the pack as much as she could. She was decently strong, but she was also short and petite. If she got caught in the center, it would be almost impossible to extricate herself again. Other than that precaution, Cloé let herself get carried away by the pulsing beat. Giving in to the whole experience, she danced with abandon, happily tangled up with whoever happened to be closest to her. Most of the time it was Igor, but the pretty Italian had a bevy of dance partners come and go. She didn't keep track of faces, just enjoyed the sensation of bodies and heat.

After a few songs, or possibly one eight-minute song, Cloé staggered out of the crowd and towards the bar. She was flushed, her tan skin dusted with beads of sweat from the closeness and the exertion. She was glad for the light cotton material of her black halter dress just as she was glad for the low back which kept her cooler than some of her other available outfits would have. Cloé never traveled without at least three different outfits for post-game celebrations or press conferences. Unbeknownst to her teammates, she also had a small collection of outfits suited for each one of them, which she kept packed with the other vital Quidditch supplies. She was the unofficial team handler as far as the press went, and she took her not-actually-a-job very seriously. Couldn't have the Griffins walk out for pictures looking like bums.

Cloé bounded up to the bar, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright. She wriggled her way between the boys from her team still standing around and drinking. "This is amazing!" she cried, body still swaying seductively to the music. "You have to come out and dance with me!" Looking around at her team, she gave them a sweet smile. "I'm parched! Won't some kind man give me a drink?"

Germany. She was in f*cking Germany and Tara was loving it. A few days off from work, a port key to another city, watching from the owner's box as the Griffins took on Germany's National Team, the game that had her on the edge of her seat the entire time, and a victory worthy of the celebration. A celebration that Roxy, co-captain of the Griffins, and a friend of Tara's had invited her to personally. And if that wasn't enough, Tara had heard that this club was one of the best in the city so her response had been a whole lot of hell yeses.

Wearing a pair of tight leather pants, a loose white tank top with a body chain that hugged her figure, and studded heels, Tara as ready for a night of dancing and drinking. She had come with her cousin, a physical trainer for the Griffins, and a bunch of the other locker room guys, hanging around the end of the bar as the shot the breeze and talked about the game. She was expecting Roxy to show up any moment, but she hadn't spotted her friend yet. And as impatient as ever, she was already two shots in and was already itching for another one.

A pair of tall, broad shouldered men nearing the bar caught her eye over her cousin's shoulder and she watched for a moment as she recognized the rest of the Griffins, her eyes seeking out her friend. "Be right back," she told the boys as she weaved her way through the people crowding around the bar just in time to hear Cloé's request. With a grin, sidled up to Cloé's side and threw an arm around her shoulder. "I ain't a dude, but first round of shots is on me," she announced with a grin as she glanced around at the other Griffins, her gaze lingering for a moment on the captain before turning as the bartender pushed a row of shot glasses toward her.

She began doling the shot glasses to each of the Griffins, leaving Bellamy for last. She held both her shot glass and his in her hands as she turned to the group and said, "Here's to a great game and an even better victory!" Then she held out the glass for Bellamy, her green eyes on his, before changing her mind and at last second throwing back both her shot and his, scrunching her eyes for the briefest of moments as the burn of alcohol slid down her throat. When it faded, she grinned impishly at Bellamy and then turned to give her back to him as she looked to Rob, who she knew the best after Roxy. "Who's up for another? Gilchrist?"

“If you had knocked away that bludger that nearly killed me, Bellamy, that wouldn’t have happened,” César shot back in response to Harlan’s chiding. It was a close call. César had needed to make a complicated maneuver on his broom to avoid getting slammed by the bludger, which resulted in a close brush with the Snitch quite early in the game. Luckily, he hadn’t touched the Snitch, and the crisis was averted.

He scowled at Rob as the older man brought up Cloé and Igor. “Watch it, old man,” he said gruffly, digging his elbow into the Keeper’s ribs as Rob ruffled César’s hair. These little annoyances were what made him initially have a hard time fitting in with the team. Shooting his sister one last protective glance, and glaring at Igor, he turned his attention back to his remaining teammates. He fell into step with them as they moved in a group towards the bar. Cloé had disappeared with the German chaser and was nowhere to be seen in the crush of people out on the dance floor. As they pushed their way through the crowd, César caught the eye of a pretty redheaded witch throwing coy glances in their general direction. He smiled at her and winked, not caring if he was the object of her attention or not.

César was about to order the first round when Cloé reappeared, looking flushed. Almost immediately, Tara Kinglsey appeared from out of nowhere, throwing her arm around his sister and announcing she would buy a round of drinks. He took a brief moment to admire Tara from the corner of his eye, appreciating her choice of dress. He was not well-acquainted with the owner’s daughter, but from his interactions with her he generally liked her. Never one to say no to a drink when someone else was buying, he gladly accepted a shot as they were passed around.  “To the Griffins,” he added along with Tara’s toast. Raising his glass, he saluted his teammates before throwing back the shot. As he slammed the glass down on the bar, he noticed the interplay between Tara and Harlan. She had been about to offer him a shot, before seemingly changing her mind and drinking it herself.

Eyebrows edging upward, César looked at Cloé, their eyes locking in silent understanding. He quickly looked away, struggling to keep a straight face, knowing that if he kept looking at his sister, he might start laughing. This was too good. Tara had balls, he had to give that to her, and his respect for her was instantly increased by her actions. “I’ll have another,” he said, signaling to the bartender to bring out another round. Passing around the fresh shots to his teammates, including Harlan, he lifted his glass. “To beautiful women,” he said, flashing Tara a grin as their eyes met and he inclined his head toward her.

The evening had gone from great, to bad, to worse in a what felt like a matter of moments. Harlan wasn't sure if it was the shit music that had altered his sense of time but he did know that the frustration that was building in his chest that had created a solid block over his being, was only intensified by the newest guest of the group of quidditch players. Tara Kingsley.

For one, the Cardozo brother, for whatever reason, thought it would be a good idea to challenge the captain. Harlan didn't do well with defiance but he knew that handling it on the pitch was his only option, especially when booze was on the table. No doubt, the new player would be paying for it in a few hours anyway, and Harlan wasn't keen on taking matters into his own hands just yet. Something about a bar put him on edge, and he for whatever reason, found that altercations always seemed to find him.

Second, there was Cloé, who provided an entirely different sense of frustration as she approached the bar, hips swinging, with nearly five men in tow just waiting on the outskirts of the team for their chance to buy her a drink. Harlan, though, had to mask this reaction the best. Any hint of his feelings and he would be looked at in a completely different light by his team, and that couldn't happen.

And finally, there was Tara Kingsley. The very woman whose secret life he had protected when provided every opportunity and reason not to while being prodded by her family, who also happened to be the owners of the very team he was the captain of. Things had started civilized enough, and he even found his gaze lingering for a moment on her choice of street attire, which in itself was unique from the two times he had met her previously. Then, the evening took a turn.

Harlan reached up to grab the shot offered to him by the Kingsley woman, only to watch her take it and turn back around to address the team. A professional at keeping his composure, the man bit his lip in thought, not working hard to suppress the dry laughter from escaping his mouth. Jaw clenched, the wizard leant a hand on the bar and immediately got the bartenders attention for a drink, of his choice.

Matters were only made worse by Cesar practically drooling over Tara, obviously pleased by her little act of maturity. As far as Harlan was concerned the two of them deserved each other. "To beautiful women," The man couldn't help himself as nodded to Cloé. To some, it surely appeared to be the gentlemanly thing to do to address the other female in their group, but between the two of them, it was more. "And winning," He added before taking the shot. "Tara, you've met César, yeah?" The captain clapped the dark haired man on the shoulder approvingly. This could be fun, after all.

Rob had never really understood the appeal of having music blaring in your ears until you were practically deaf.  The entire group was screaming over the music to hear each other.  He rolled his eyes when Cloé bounced over, talking about them joining her on the dance floor.  For one, Rob didn’t dance, and for two, if her saw anyone lay hands on Cloé while they were out there, he’d probably go back to jail for the hexes he would send.  The outfit she had on was entirely too inappropriate for someone he considered like a niece.  Sometimes Rob forgot that Cloé was 23, she seemed like a kid in his eyes.

A grin cracked across his face as he saw Tara shouldering her way over to them.  “Now the party can really start!”  Rob threw an arm around the witch, taking the shot she offered with gusto.  Glancing over at Harlan, he was not surprised to see a disgruntled look on his friend’s face.  For some reason that neither of them had explained, the two seemed to loathe each other.  When Tara took the opportunity to show her distaste, Rob shrugged at Harlan with sympathy.  Hopefully the whole thing would blow over with time- after all, Roxy and Harlan had hated each other when they first met, too.  Sometimes the guy seemed to rub people the wrong way.

The few shots he had were mellowing Rob out a bit, and the obscene amount of noise didn’t bother him so much.  He started to relax and smirked at César, who was clearly ogling Tara.  After another round, in which Harlan took part, he nudged the chaser with his elbow.  “Hey, Cardozo.  Go show Kingsley your moves.”  He winked at Tara, fully expecting César to blow it on the dance floor.  He relaxed his hold on the woman and walked the few steps to the bar.  “Round is on me! But first…” Rob smiled wickedly, “I never… puked in public.”  He arched his eyebrow at the group, wondering if any of them would take up the game.  Of course, Rob had started with a fairly safe question, but games like these could easily turn hilarious the longer they lasted.

Once Cloé realized who had a hold of her, she turned to throw her own arms around the other woman. "Tara!" she shouted happily, giving her a squeeze. Noticing her body chain, Cloé let out a little "oooh"of appreciation as she ran a finger down the visible length of the metal. "You must tell me where you get these! I've been dying to have one!" While she and César hadn't spent a lot of time with the daughter of the owners of the team, they had met before and both siblings agreed that they liked the bold Kingsley girl.

The Chaser happily took her shoot, noticing the interplay between Tara and Harlan. Catching César's eye, she flashed him a quick smile and a wink. She was a little troublemaker at heart, and as Tara put the second shot to her lips, Cloé leaned up and whispered-yelled, so only Tara could hear her, "Do you and our bold captain need a back room?" She gave Tara a mischievous smile as she downed her own shot, before catching Harlan's eye and giving him a sly grin. She hadn't missed the fact that he chose to look her way when he toasted and she felt a little shiver go down her spine. It had been years since the two of them had been a thing, but she thought that sometimes she still caught him looking at her in a more-than-friendly way. They had agreed to try and keep their relationship professional, but a girl could always fantasize.

Hearing Rob taunting César into dancing, she moved to stand next to the older Keeper, nestling herself under his arm. Since meeting him, Cloé had treated the veteran player as a kind of stand-in uncle and she was always flattered by his seemingly instinctual protectiveness of her. "I better sit this song out then,"she quipped, smiling at her brother. "I don't think the dance floor can handle both of us." Plus, it looked like all the eager young men who had been loitering around her since she made her way to the bar had been driven off by the combined glares of César, Rob, and Harlan. She couldn't really blame them; the trio could stare down a gorgon.

Cloé caught on to Rob's game but as she had also never been sick in public, she waited until the others had taken their drinks before giving out the next challenge. "Well, I've never gone streaking," she replied with a small smile. Oh, she wanted to see which of her team-mates was guilty of this little indiscretion.

Although they had won against the German's Roxy was a bit upset that she hadn't been there to see it. Just before the game ended a bludger was fiercely sent toward the Griffin's seeker and Rox didn't have enough time to divert it. Instead of letting the wicked ball hit their seeker and end their chances of victory she did was she usually did and took the hit instead. The bludger had contacted with her body right where her batting arm and her shoulder connected and she instantly winced from the pain. She had dislocated her shoulder before and she knew what it felt like as she attempted to correct the path her broom was currently on. Despite her familiarity with pain she couldn't stop her body from doing what it was naturally going to do as the sky began to grow black. Her vision got cloudy and she barely made it to the sandy ground before she felt herself falling. She had passed out from the pain and the reflective damage to her neck and spine, it was unavoidable but she had regained consciousness just in time to hear the crowd come to life. The Griffin's seeker had caught the snitch and her team had won, she jumped up from the bed screaming with the crowd before the medi-witches forced her back into the cot.

It took them a bit to get her arm back into alignment and then they performed the spells to fix the damage. She hated lying there and not being with the team. After a game like this was one of the best parts of being on the team. They had collectively won, everyone doing their part, and things were finally starting to turn up. It had been rough the first couple of months with a new line up but Roxy had slowly grown to love every one of them, even the young ones. Winning of course made the transition that much easier. Rob had come by to see her and informed her that there was going to be an after party and Roxy was of course down for it. Her shoulder ached but she knew a few shots would relieve that quite quickly. She told him to go along without her but not before telling him to stop worrying about it, knowing he'd know what she was talking about. Sure Rob had let in a handful of goals but the German's were far better than they had been the last time the Griffins played them. The whole team had been caught off guard by their new tactics, Roxanna included. She knew they had to practice, had to learn to defend against them, but that was a challenge for tomorrow. Tonight all they had to worry about was getting drunk and celebrated their victory.

After the nurses were finished with her she quickly ran from the tent and found Tara, informing her of the after party, and then dashed off to the locker room to get changed. Roxy wasn't like Cloe or Tara, she didn't care much about flashy shoes or fashion. She threw on a pair of near black jeans, the same white tank top she had on before the game, and a jacket which took more time then she had expected to get her arm through. After she had let her hair down she didn't bother with checking the mirror instead she ducked out of the locker room, hood up, and avoided crowds that might recognize her. Once she was away from the pitch she apparated closer to where the bar was, having been there before, and then took the alleys to make the rest of the trip. Roxy had spent enough time in Germany to know her way around a bit but she hadn't really picked up the language. She entered the bar and was assaulted by the sounds, the smells, and the atmosphere. This was her kind of place, the louder the better. She moved through throngs of people and found herself at the bar, exactly where she meant to be going.  She ordered a drink and tried to look over the crowd in the dimly lit nightclub, looking for a familiar shiny bald head and when she found it she smiled brightly.

Taking her drink with her she moved through the crowd once more but this time not so effectively, a woman bumped into her hurt shoulder with some force, causing her to wince in pain once more. "Oi! The dance floor is that way." She said, head bobbing in its normal dominant way as she spoke with attitude. She was in no way deterred by the group of women following the first, never afraid to start a fight, but she did move on quickly. She had drinks to inhale and people to see. She ignored the irate calls of the women as she pushed through them and found her friends. She caught the last bit of Cloe's never have I ever prompt and quickly pushed back her shot with a loud laugh. She looked at the faces of her team members and Tara and smiled brightly at all of them. This was her family now. "Who's buying? And what'd I miss?" She spoke loudly and didn't wait for an answer before picking another shot up off the tray on the bar, giving her captain a nod before downing another shot. They had done good tonight. They were improving and she knew it was directly related to the new command structure of the team. She had worried about Bellamy at first but he had proven himself. She was full of a feeling like it was all up hill from here and that made her smile again, bright white teeth contrasting with her naturally tanned skin.