<div class="floatleft">(https://daman.co.id/daman.co.id/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/Spread_Daniel-Sharman_FPS_5-790x1024.jpg?x43054)</div><strong>Character Name:</strong>Devon MacMichaels (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=339010.msg16079521#msg16079521)<br/><strong>Date | Time:</strong>8/18/22 - 9:00 PM<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Quidditch World Cups Stands - Moderately OK Seats<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>A Welsh Dragons Quidditcch Jersey, Jeans, Trainers and Welsh Facepaint (https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/flag-wales-painted-face-young-man-36533584.jpg), holding a huge tub of popcorn and Welsh Team Flag<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Watching the game, making terrible small talk<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Corinne Bailey (Mellific)<br/><hr/><br/>Having asked the question out of some foolish ingrained since of politeness, especially since she had essentially given him a free VIP seat, Devon didn’t realize he was being misogynistic at all, and furthermore as Corinne replied that it was nothing she could not handle, he was more than willing to give it a mental shrug and leave it at that.  After all, it was kind of uncomfortable enough as it was sitting next to some hot girl he barely knew (despite sharing two classes for the last five years), but for the sake of the much better view of the game, he would make a LOT of sacrifices.<br/><br/>Shifting in his seat, he was ready to ignore everything except the play in front of him when Corinne asked a question, making him wince inwardly.  He was terrible at small talk, if that was what this was, and the venomous undertones in her voice surely didn’t make this sound like a conversation she wanted to have, but nevertheless it would be a small price to pay for these seats.<br/><br/>“Uh, yeah I did.”  Devon replied.  “My hands are definitely not steady enough to do this level of precision.”  He went on, holding up his hands, which were pretty large considering his frame and a little beat up from his summer of magical plant wrangling.  At her comment about his choice of teams, considering his clothing and face paint, Devon gave his first smile since arriving in her booth.   “Yeah.  What gave it away?”<br/><br/>In an effort to be accommodating, Devon felt like he should at least try to talk as well.  Glancing over at Corinne, he noted she was dressed nicely, but clearly with no team affiliation.  To be fair that was the case with most of the VIP people, since people who loved Quidditch probably couldn’t afford to be up here.  Reaching he was kind of staring at what was a rather sparse top, Devon quickly averted his eyes back to the game.<br/><br/>“Er…what about you? Not cheering for anyone in particular?”  He asked,  Luckily a waiter appeared a moment later, and after giving Devon a bit of a look, asked if he wanted anything to drink.  “Er…just a butterbeer, thanks.”<br/>