Emma nodded, unsure why anyone would find that at all appealing. Of course, she had yet to find anyone she was even remotely attracted to. Buffoons, the lot of them. She might not be society but her manners were impeccable and she'd been raised to know how to behave in public. Apparently, a few of these men had missed out on etiquette lessons or the Bludgers to the head had completely destroyed what little sense they'd been born with. She almost felt sorry for them. Crossing her arms over her chest, she eyed the apartment, once more taken in by the open, airiness the flat embodied.
"How... lovely for them," she said, toneless. She wasn't the most expressive, preferring to keep everything tightly contained and coiled. Emma preferred control and did not like to hand the reigns over, so to speak. "So most of the people here are Quidditch players," she stated, not really expecting an answer. It was quite easy to pick them out. There was a very tall blond bloke, another one with fancy hair but an extremely athletic build. Those two seemed less impressed with the women. Perhaps they were the famous ones. The reservists seemed to be openly gawking.
"Do you expect it will be long before the game starts?" she asked, curiously. Part of her wish she had the nerve to play. Still, she didn't think she'd ever be able to afford whatever stakes they were playing at.