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sweetpinkpixie · 05-12-2026, 05:03 AM

Calliope’s patience was a medical condition, actually, and potentially fatal to anyone particularly irritating. Too bad the object of her irritation was already currently deceased. Still, the praise threaded beneath Cloggs' observation settled somewhere warm beneath her ribs even as she resisted the urge to immediately ruin it by climbing thirty feet straight upward out of spite.

Her broom skimmed low enough that the grass whispered beneath the tips of her trainers while she guided herself through another turn, fingers flexing against polished wood as she mapped the distortions above. The moment Cloggs released them into full laps, Calliope rose smoothly into the air and hovered for a brief moment above the pitch rather than charging headfirst into the nearest distortion like several others already were. Her eyes tracked the drifting shimmer zones as they shifted lazily across the airspace — silver dragging slow as syrup, gold practically humming with temptation, bronze reminding her of the third place finish from summer (again!).

Speed she understood. Loved, even. And inversion? Disorienting for a second perhaps, but adaptable. But the Slow Zone… that was where the real irritation lived and all the things Cloggs had already annoyingly clocked about her within the first hour of tryouts.

Rude, honestly.

The second Calliope crossed into the silver shimmer, it felt like flying through water. Her broom resisted every adjustment half a beat too late, momentum dragging stubbornly behind her instincts in a way that immediately set her teeth on edge. She hated it. Quidditch was not meant to be played through molasses, so she would be avoiding silver patches of the pitch at all costs. The fifth year eventually loosened her grip and tried to relax her shoulders. Irritating as it was, she could already feel the difference between resisting the zone… and learning how to work with it. Or at least pretending to work with it.

By the time they were called them back, Calliope was flushed with adrenaline courtesy of a golden zone, and visibly more alive for it. She peeked Zephyr then and tossed a little wink his direction.

"Teal team. Chaser," she declared once instructed. The bib across her chest transformed accordingly and the brunette wasted no time launching back into the air, circling upward with her dark braid streaming behind her. Predatory focus settled instantly across her features the second the quaffle burst free from the crate.

Mine.

She accelerated toward it without hesitation, snatching the red leather cleanly out of the air and tucking it tightly beneath one arm before banking toward the hoops. Wind whipped past her ears as she zipped forward —and then directly into a patch of silver sheen. The Slow Zone swallowed her so abruptly it genuinely felt like flying face-first into invisible syrup. Her broom dragged beneath her, every movement suddenly lagging frustratingly behind.

Oh, come on.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeee," Calliope called out in immediate disgust, internally cringing at the horrifying stretched out distortion of her own voice.

Her arm snapped — or attempted to snap — forward through the resistance, and after one painfully delayed heartbeat the quaffle finally tore free from her grip in a clean pass toward a teal teammate outside the silver shimmer’s trap.

●—————◦◉◦—————●

The moment Cloggs finished speaking, CJ looked like someone had personally handed him the keys to happiness. Zones? Weird magic air? Flying challenges? Oh ho ho HO was he about to have the TIME of his LIFE.

The third year shot forward low over the pitch with a grin stretched ear to ear, one hand briefly skimming through the air as he leaned dangerously sideways on his broom just because he could. The gold shimmer zones immediately caught his attention like a kneazle chasing the light from a laser pen. He might not be very good at speaking British yet ― and especially not British girl ― but speed, now THAT was a language he was fluent in.

Or at least semi-fluent in.

CJ angled toward the nearest one without a shred of hesitation and immediately whooped as acceleration seized the broom beneath him. "YOOOOOO—" Wind tore the rest away as the broom lurched forward hard enough to make his stomach flip with delight instead of fear, like the first plummet on a rollercoaster.

This. THIS was flying.

Flying was supposed to feel like your soul temporarily disconnected from your body.

He shot out of the gold zone in a blur, laughing breathlessly before banking sharply around one of the hoops — only to immediately spot another familiar flyer ahead.

Blonde hair and flying like she had a personal against the world.

Oh no. Or maybe oh YES?

CJ leaned low over the broom handle and punched forward into the same gold shimmer ~~Marinara~~ his housemate had entered moments earlier, acceleration slamming into him again as he rapidly closed the distance between them.

"Thought I might find you at tryouts!" he called over the wind with entirely too much delight for someone whose nose she had nearly rearranged not all that long ago. "You've got a WHOLE arm on you — seriously, that goblet had crazy velocityyyyyyyyyyyyyyy—"

And then — because his brain often left the controls unattended mid-conversation — he hit the edge of the gold zone at an angle and abruptly dropped into a steep dive straight on through a bronze zone that put him in a full on tailspin.

"WHOA—OH—OH—OOOOH"

The broom plunged sharply through normal airspace and CJ corrected instinctively, flattening out mere feet above the pitch in one smooth sweep before laughing again like nearly eating dirt had been part of the plan the whole time.

By the time Edgar’s whistle shrieked across the field, CJ let out a loud groan that they had to stop at all. He circled back low, dragging the tips of his sneakers through the grass with shoulders dejectedly slouched, cheeks flushed, hair windswept, and visibly buzzing with energy.

Divide into teams and pick a position? Say no more!

"Orange team! Seeker!" he announced immediately, no thought had. Orange flickered across his bib, snitch detailing emerged, and CJ pointed at it excitedly like this was the greatest magical advancement of modern wizarding society.

"Oh, that is SICK."

When the signal was given, CJ launched into the air at a vicious vertical angle, robes snapping behind him as he climbed fast enough to make his stomach drop out beneath him. The gold shimmer zones still drifted lazily across portions of the pitch and CJ immediately angled toward one to try and catch up with what he thought was the snitch.

Spoiler: it was just more gold shimmer.

05-12-2026, 05:03 AM	#15 (permalink)
sweetpinkpixie SSRPG Admin Gladrags Mod Quibbler Mod Minister for Magic Alley Proprietor Sea Serpent Join Date: Aug 2010 Location: The Paths Posts: 41,466 Hogwarts RPG Name: Professor Cox Ravenclaw Graduated Hogwarts RPG Name: CJ Miller Gryffindor Third Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden Hufflepuff Sixth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden Ravenclaw Sixth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Calliope Barrington Slytherin Fifth Year Ministry Department Head: Charles Hollingberry Minister's Office Ministry Department Head: Airey Flamsteed Mysteries Diagon Alley Proprietor: Victor García Massey Ollivanders x12 x12	CJ [orange]; Calliope [teal] astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK \| & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf Calliope’s patience was a medical condition, actually, and potentially fatal to anyone particularly irritating. Too bad the object of her irritation was already currently deceased. Still, the praise threaded beneath Cloggs' observation settled somewhere warm beneath her ribs even as she resisted the urge to immediately ruin it by climbing thirty feet straight upward out of spite. Her broom skimmed low enough that the grass whispered beneath the tips of her trainers while she guided herself through another turn, fingers flexing against polished wood as she mapped the distortions above. The moment Cloggs released them into full laps, Calliope rose smoothly into the air and hovered for a brief moment above the pitch rather than charging headfirst into the nearest distortion like several others already were. Her eyes tracked the drifting shimmer zones as they shifted lazily across the airspace — silver dragging slow as syrup, gold practically humming with temptation, bronze reminding her of the third place finish from summer (again!). Speed she understood. Loved, even. And inversion? Disorienting for a second perhaps, but adaptable. But the Slow Zone… that was where the real irritation lived and all the things Cloggs had already annoyingly clocked about her within the first hour of tryouts. Rude, honestly. The second Calliope crossed into the silver shimmer, it felt like flying through water. Her broom resisted every adjustment half a beat too late, momentum dragging stubbornly behind her instincts in a way that immediately set her teeth on edge. She hated it. Quidditch was not meant to be played through molasses, so she would be avoiding silver patches of the pitch at all costs. The fifth year eventually loosened her grip and tried to relax her shoulders. Irritating as it was, she could already feel the difference between resisting the zone… and learning how to work with it. Or at least pretending to work with it. By the time they were called them back, Calliope was flushed with adrenaline courtesy of a golden zone, and visibly more alive for it. She peeked Zephyr then and tossed a little wink his direction. "Teal team. Chaser," she declared once instructed. The bib across her chest transformed accordingly and the brunette wasted no time launching back into the air, circling upward with her dark braid streaming behind her. Predatory focus settled instantly across her features the second the quaffle burst free from the crate. Mine. She accelerated toward it without hesitation, snatching the red leather cleanly out of the air and tucking it tightly beneath one arm before banking toward the hoops. Wind whipped past her ears as she zipped forward —and then directly into a patch of silver sheen. The Slow Zone swallowed her so abruptly it genuinely felt like flying face-first into invisible syrup. Her broom dragged beneath her, every movement suddenly lagging frustratingly behind. Oh, come on. "Heeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeee," Calliope called out in immediate disgust, internally cringing at the horrifying stretched out distortion of her own voice. Her arm snapped — or attempted to snap — forward through the resistance, and after one painfully delayed heartbeat the quaffle finally tore free from her grip in a clean pass toward a teal teammate outside the silver shimmer’s trap. ●—————◦◉◦—————● The moment Cloggs finished speaking, CJ looked like someone had personally handed him the keys to happiness. Zones? Weird magic air? Flying challenges? Oh ho ho HO was he about to have the TIME of his LIFE. The third year shot forward low over the pitch with a grin stretched ear to ear, one hand briefly skimming through the air as he leaned dangerously sideways on his broom just because he could. The gold shimmer zones immediately caught his attention like a kneazle chasing the light from a laser pen. He might not be very good at speaking British yet ― and especially not British girl ― but speed, now THAT was a language he was fluent in. Or at least semi-fluent in. CJ angled toward the nearest one without a shred of hesitation and immediately whooped as acceleration seized the broom beneath him. "YOOOOOO—" Wind tore the rest away as the broom lurched forward hard enough to make his stomach flip with delight instead of fear, like the first plummet on a rollercoaster. This. THIS was flying. Flying was supposed to feel like your soul temporarily disconnected from your body. He shot out of the gold zone in a blur, laughing breathlessly before banking sharply around one of the hoops — only to immediately spot another familiar flyer ahead. Blonde hair and flying like she had a personal against the world. Oh no. Or maybe oh YES? CJ leaned low over the broom handle and punched forward into the same gold shimmer ~~Marinara~~ his housemate had entered moments earlier, acceleration slamming into him again as he rapidly closed the distance between them. "Thought I might find you at tryouts!" he called over the wind with entirely too much delight for someone whose nose she had nearly rearranged not all that long ago. "You've got a WHOLE arm on you — seriously, that goblet had crazy velocityyyyyyyyyyyyyyy—" And then — because his brain often left the controls unattended mid-conversation — he hit the edge of the gold zone at an angle and abruptly dropped into a steep dive straight on through a bronze zone that put him in a full on tailspin. "WHOA—OH—OH—OOOOH" The broom plunged sharply through normal airspace and CJ corrected instinctively, flattening out mere feet above the pitch in one smooth sweep before laughing again like nearly eating dirt had been part of the plan the whole time. By the time Edgar’s whistle shrieked across the field, CJ let out a loud groan that they had to stop at all. He circled back low, dragging the tips of his sneakers through the grass with shoulders dejectedly slouched, cheeks flushed, hair windswept, and visibly buzzing with energy. Divide into teams and pick a position? Say no more! "Orange team! Seeker!" he announced immediately, no thought had. Orange flickered across his bib, snitch detailing emerged, and CJ pointed at it excitedly like this was the greatest magical advancement of modern wizarding society. "Oh, that is SICK." When the signal was given, CJ launched into the air at a vicious vertical angle, robes snapping behind him as he climbed fast enough to make his stomach drop out beneath him. The gold shimmer zones still drifted lazily across portions of the pitch and CJ immediately angled toward one to try and catch up with what he thought was the snitch. Spoiler: it was just more gold shimmer. __________________ We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back......................................... But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass..................................... The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like