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The Practice Pitch
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This was it. The practice pitch. Noelle happily made her way down to the pitch, rather excited. She had a surprise for Noah.... Well actually two surprises. The first, that Noelle had been practicing with Remy and Sha. Quidditch that was. Remy was more than helpful and very patient with her. Which was a relief because Noelle was NOT good at Quidditch. But she'd improved a lot since Noah and her had practiced. Noelle wanted to make Noah proud, and they could do something together. The second surprise, being the new keeper gear. Her mum had been generous and given her a little extra to buy him a present. Now.... Where was Noah? |
Noah was late, as seemingly usual these days. Given, it was normally for a valid reason, like how he had taken a detour on the way to meet Noelle at the pitch, to pick her a flower (not from a greenhouse, he knew better). Dressed casually in his actual team jersey, Noah appeared on the field and started her way, rushing up to hug her tight. "Hey, Princess." GRIN. |
Noelle twirled her broom while she waited. She probably needed to be stretching or something but ehh. She would take her chances. Then there were footsteps. Noelle looked and saw Noah coming her way. Rushing actually. She grinned and dropped her broom. Jumping into his arms, she hugged him tight. Welcomes were always like this. Too happy to see each other. Just the way Noelle liked it. "NoahBear. " She said simply before jumping down from him. "I have a surprise for you." Shows the new Keeper gear. A smile spread on her face. |
COME PLAY WITH US plz Genny was simply giddy. She dragged her broomstick on the green pitch on this fine morning on a weekend for a long fly around the The third-year stood where the entrance was and looked up, shielding her face with her hand against the sun. "Let's go, Genny." She said loud enough for her to hear and mounted her broom. |
Even though he was capable of flying around whenever he wanted thanks to his Animagus form, Frankie still found joy in flying on a broom. While in the form of a crow, he had to do all of the tiresome work -- the wing-flapping, fighting against the occasional wind, and so long. On a broom, flight was effortless. All he needed to do was lean one way and he was good to go. Today the Head Boy was in the mood to do a few laps around the pitch, maybe even toss a Quaffle or smack some Bludgers around if anyone else was there. Already soaring through the air after grabbing his broom from the shed, he made his way up over the stands and onto the pitch. Lo and behold, there was a young Geneva Tate over on the other side mounting her broom. "Hellooooooooo, Genny!" the blond called down to her, now flying above her. "Wonderful day for flying." |
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Without waiting any longer, she gave the ground a small kick and let the broom take her up high. For someone her age, she flew it quite well. Her Quidditch training in summer definitely paid off as she shot upwards toward the Head Boy, instinctively wanting to catch up to the older boy who was basically on top of the popularity ladder in school. Not that she cared about popularity (she was sure she wasn't, what with her anger episodes and whatnot) but she sure liked to prove she was Quidditch-worthy! ... how high exactly was Frankie up? It didn't look that high from where she saw him down there. |
It took every fibre of his being not to laugh at the sight of Genny looking around after he had called out to her. In his mind, looking up to the skies would have been the most logical place to look for someone who was calling out their name. They were out on the pitch after all. Frankie flashed her a smile when she finally looked up at him. He gave her a little wave as he watched her gave the ground a small kick and let the broom do all of the work. The Head Boy hovered in the air, waiting for her to catch up to him. It would've been flat out mean of him to shout out to her and then zoom off on his speedy broom. Plus he knew better than to be rude to a beater. "Giving the sheep a break today?" the blond asked with a grin. He remembered her pro sheep-riding skills from last term clear as day. Not that he was the cause of that occurrence or anything, ahem... |
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Her broom continued ascending steadily although it glitched unnecessary from time to time. Must be in need of charm maintenance, or just getting too old. "Heh. No more sheep for me. I got too big for me!" It may have escaped the Head Boy that she grew a whole two centimeters this summer! While it was hard to notice for those without a measuring tape, she liked to point it out (and exaggerate it) to anyone who'd listen. "What are you doing here? Do you just fly on your own?" Was he a fast flyer? Like, you could say, was he faster than her? |
He watched as she steadily flew closer to him, though he couldn't help but notice her broom act a little odd at times. Was that broom of hers old or was it due for some maintenance? He opened his mouth to mention something about it, but he was sure that she was well aware of the glitching her broom was doing. "Bummer," the blond responded when she stated that there was no more sheep-riding for her because she was too big. Frankie wasn't sure where the 'too big' part came from. As far as he could tell, she hadn't grown any over the summer. Then again, she was younger than him. All of those that weren't upperclassman seemed small to him. The Head Boy shrugged at her question about what he was doing here. "Just flying around since we don't have official matches here. Otherwise I'm sure I'd be on the team as a chaser. Usually the position I take whenever my mates and I play a game with each other." He was fast, though not necessarily fast enough for seeking. "You?" |
For Zeke! The Slytherin felt it was time to practice on the Qudditch pitch. He was itching to go on his broom for a while. He would have gone sooner if he wasn't so caught up in lessons and doing homework. Well maybe slacking a little bit on homework let's be real here. As he made his way to the pitch with his firebolt over his shoulder, he smelt the fresh air. Aahhh just the way he liked it, the smell of fresh grass. He missed it while he was at home. He never had the pleasure of being in open fields with goal posts so he can practice his chaser skills. He even had some seeker skills come to think of it. He walked to the center of the field and just looked around and had a huge grin on his face. He beamed and thought this was him home. He walked over to the stands and decided to get his broom prepared for his little training. |
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Zeke stretched his neck one way and then the next in an attempt to loosen up his cramped muscles. Studying was officially the worst. It was a disease. And NO, he was not exaggerating. The N.E.W.T.S would be the death of him. Was there a cure? He doubted it, but a bit of flying seemed an easy enough solution in the short-term. As it was it hadn't taken much convincing for him to grab his broom and make his way down to the practice pitch. With a sharp inhale of crisp cool air, Zeke peered around, his gaze landing on a familiar Slytherin. "Colt! Sup man?" he asked, elongating his stride a little to catch up. |
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"It's weird," he observed, shrugging slightly. Then again, with the school not condoning quidditch it wasn't often the pitch was fully utilised anyway. Shame. Zeke's attention was quickly drawn back to Colt at his proposition. "I'm always up for a game, but I'm keeper," he declared, already eyeing off a pair of gloves. |
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He beamed when Zeke said he was up for a game of quidditch. "Excellent. Alright keeper you are. I prefer chaser myself actually." he grinned and got his broom all fixed up. "I have been dying to try out my firebolt lately..." He never got a chance to when he was home because his father felt the brooms were unsafe and not normal. He got his quaffle from the trunk and flew up carrying it. "Come on man get to your post.." he smirked and decided to do some air tricks he learned from his cousin. Mann this was liberating. He could feel the wind in his air and all his problems were down there. Nothing could distract him besides scoring of course. "How long have you been a keeper man?" He must have played on a team before. |
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Zeke couldn't help but chuckle though, cause he was sure every other wizarding school had an ace Quidditch program except for them. It was so dumb, so dumb. "No kidding," he mused to Colt. "Before I was a student here mum used to bring me to watch some of the matches, I still can't get over that it hasn't run in... forever." Like, a VERY long time. He was in his seventh year, that was saying something. And just like that it was a done deal. Sly grin in place, Zeke nod his head in acknowledgement of Colt preferring Chaser anyway. Hah! Slipping on a pair of Keeper's gloves, Zeke mounted his broom and shot off to the hoops. "It's the only position I've ever really liked, since I was nine." Granted, without a school team his experiences were fairly limited, but he had natural athleticism which he liked to think gave him an edge. "How 'bout you?" he asked in return, wondering what he was up against. |
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Now onto the task at hand, trying to score past Zeke. Oh? So he liked keeper since he was nine? Man that was dedication. After he let Zeke finish, he replied with "Well I played since I was 10 when my cousins and such needed an extra player. They wanted me to be chaser since they preferred to be keeper. You don't have to run around much and plus goal keeping wasn't my thing. I like to be in the action of scoring..." he grinned. He threw the ball at him for Zeke to catch. He hoped he wasn't paying attention because he didn't give much warning. |
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Like this one. Colt could tell him his whole family history if he wanted to, it wouldn't keep him from making saves, so when the Slytherin shot for a goal during his speech - and after a pause too, which was also signposted by LIKING to score well.. it was too easy. With a slight lean into his broom Zeke swiftly spun it, using the tail end to knock back the quaffle to his friendly opponent, away from the golden hoops. As if he'd be caught off-guard so soon. "Nice try, bud." |
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He tried to gain a little momentum. He began to fly towards the other end of the pitch and then began to feel the breeze in his hair, he felt the pure adrenaline rush and felt the impulse to score. He grinned and was coming closer to Zeke's goal post and he tried to muster much force into the bottom left goal post. ARRGHH!!! Was his famous grunt. Just like muggle tennis players had their famous grunts. |
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