Mika

January 29, 2007 12:01 AM

Straight to The Top (Headmaster's Office) by Mika

Mika would seek out the headmaster, his jaw set. This was all kinds of bull crap. Even his mother, who didn't want him to play, would back him up in this. It was one thing if he tried and failed. Fine. But this was absolutely... retarded! It was retarded that's what it was! She couldn't just tell him no! She couldn't just make up all these stupid rules, just because he was in a wheelchair! It wasn't right! It wasn't fair!

After hunting for a good fifteen minutes, he finally sought out a prairie elf and flagged it down, requesting some help to find the headmaster's office. It... she, at least Mika thought it was a she, seemed particularly frightened of him, or at least unsure what to make of him. It was the wheelchair. Mika resisted the urge to bang his head against a wall. When the prairie elf showed him where to go, he thanked her politely, then took a slow deep breath. He needed to be calm. He needed to be coherent. He had to present his case as maturely and calmly as possible if he was ever going to get to play quiddich.

Mika sat in front of the headmasters door for long moments, breathing slow and deep, before he finally knocked on the door, his heart hammering in his chest, in frustration, anger, but also in fear of the authority he was about to face, and the authority he was sort of defying by coming here at all. Well, what was the worst that could happen?\n\n
0 Mika Straight to The Top (Headmaster's Office) 0 Mika 1 5


Headmaster Bulla

January 30, 2007 9:51 AM

From the top, the only way is down... by Headmaster Bulla

If it wasn't one thing, it was another. But somehow, for some blessed reason, an opportunity had arisen. The majority of the work he could do today was taken care of, most of the rest he wasn't able to do much about until later - and it was just in time for his programme. If he were very lucky, there might even be some time to devote to his current, and desperately behind schedule, textbook project. He settled down in his chair, reached for the wireless and...

...there was a knock at the door. Manfred looked at the wireless for a moment, before pushing it back aside and standing up. It clearly wasn't Kiva and he wasn't expecting any meetings with staff members. Evidently something unexpected had come up.

Giving his robes a slight straighten so that he looked properly respectable as befitted his position, Manfred walked to the door an opened it. He looked down, paused for a beat and then stepped back, holding the door open and gesturing his visitor inside the office.

"Mr Romanova," he said, waving his hand and vanishing one of the chairs opposite his desk with ease, so that the wheelchair would fit in easily, "to what do I owe this most unusual visit?"

He closed the door once the boy was through, made his way back to his seat and made a temple of his fingers, over which his stern regard was focused on his visitor.\n\n
39 Headmaster Bulla From the top, the only way is down... 2 Headmaster Bulla 0 5


Mika

January 30, 2007 10:25 AM

Yeah But What a Ride! by Mika

Mika looked up... way up. Not that any adult wasn't 'way up' for him, but given the situation, he found this particularly intimidating. He cleared his throat and wheeled into the office, parking his chair. Sitting very straight in his chair, hands folded neatly in his lap, he did his best to look as grown up as an eleven year old possibly could.

"Thank you sir," He spoke quietly, his voice squeaking only a little. Mika's anger at the situation had given way to nerves, and in some ways he was very glad he had come straight here, or he would have chickened out. "I have a bit of a problem, sir, that I think requires you to solve it. I... I want to play quiddich. I have already spoken to my Head of House, and the Aladren team captain." Mika was enunciating very very carefully. "The Professor said that they could not keep me from playing, just because I am in a wheelchair. I went to find out about using a school broom, and this..." horrible mean wretched woman had called him a liar... but Mika was pretty sure he couldn't state his case like that. "The woman in charge of such things, she said it was her quiddich pitch and that she would not allow me to fly, until I passed all kinds of special tests, which she says will take a long time and won't happen in time enough to play quiddich this year."

The injustice of the whole thing bolstered Mika's courage a bit, and after another breath, he continued with a little bit more confidence. "No other first years are required to do any such thing. Other first years are on the Aladren team, and all they had to do was sign up. I told her that my head of house already said I could... and she called me a liar!" Mika had found that particularly upsetting. He did NOT lie.

"She said we would have to meet with you, but she said she would arrange the meeting, when she could fit it in to her schedule." He was from Russia. He knew all about bull crap tactics to waste time. "With the implication that that wouldn't be happening any time in the remote future." Really, that almost angered him more. Bad enough she wanted to treat him like some kind of special case, he could at least understand that. He understood the issue of liability. He didn't like it, but he understood it. But when she had started talking about how very long all of this would take, Mika had felt like she just didn't want him to play. That it had nothing to do with his health or safety, or her liability. She just didn't want to allow him to play. Why she would feel that way, he had no idea. It was certainly the impression she had given though.

"Which is why I am here, sir. The quiddich season starts very soon. She can keep me from playing, regardless of my ability and what anyone else says on the subject, simply by delaying a conference with you." It was risky, speaking ill of a teacher, and he knew it. That bully and the headmaster could be the best of friends, and he could have just signed his own metaphorical death warrant. The injustice of the entire situation, and how very rude she had been, and her seemingly personal vested interest in keeping him from playing... well, the headmaster should know.

"Sir, I can fly at least as well as other first years. My head of house said they could not make me do anything special or different than any other first year. All I want is a chance to try. If I cannot preform adequately, then fine, I will quit the team and be towel manager. But, please, let me try."

His solemn face was earnest, the dark eyes behind his glasses bright with intelligence and frustration. He knew he wasn't normal, but why did everyone seem to feel the need to highlight that? Mika wasn't stupid. He didn't like being hurt or sick, why would he intentionally go out of his way to put himself in the kind of exceptional risk everyone seemed to feel he would be in by playing quiddich. Mika chewed his lip, watching the headmaster, praying, literally, for, if not compassion, a little justice and fair play.\n\n
0 Mika Yeah But What a Ride! 0 Mika 0 5


Owl

January 30, 2007 12:01 PM

Quick Missive to the Headmaster by Owl

Of course, it had taken a couple of minutes for Amy to round up an owl. The note had been penned quickly to the Headmaster, as she honestly didn't want to think about the situation more than she had to. A conference needed to be set up as soon as possible.

The owl swooped into the office window, landing directly in front of the headmaster. It extended it's leg, waiting for the missive to be removed. The missive read:

Bulla,

A student, who has just recently left my office, has requested permission to fly. As this student is in a special case, being in a wheel chair, I have informed him that I needed to set up a conference with you when your schedule permits. Please let me know when you have time available.

Thank you,

Fox
\n\n
0 Owl Quick Missive to the Headmaster 0 Owl 0 5


Headmaster Bulla

February 04, 2007 2:35 AM

I think we're in for a carnival ride here by Headmaster Bulla

Manfred only allowed the slightest frown to appear on his face, although it did attempt to grow as Mika continued to speak. There were a few points when he felt compelled to interrupt, but interrupting without dire need when one was having something explained by anyone - student or staff - was not something he approved of in anyone, least of all himself, so he held his peace for the minute it took for the boy to run out of words.

He continued to examine the boy for a moment after he had finished before lowering his hands to the table.

"First of all, Mr Romanova, I must request that you recall that Coach Fox is not only an adult, but a member of the school faculty. I would appreciate that you show her the respect that she thus deserves - regardless of how angry you are." He paused and was about to continue on, when an owl flew in, landing on the desk right in front of him. "Just a moment," he told the boy as he relieved the owl of its message and scanned it quickly.

Turning the parchment over, he wrote a quick reply:

Coach Fox,

It seems that Mr Romanova has preempted you. If you're free now, I suspect it would be the best time.

-Headmaster Bulla


He attached it to the owl's leg, and watched for a moment as it flew back out the window, before turning his attention back to Mika.

"I expect we're going to be joined by Coach Fox soon - that was her owl, attempting to set up a conference just then, so you know - but before she arrives there are a few other things I think we should address. Mika'el," he used the boy's given name, hoping that it would get him to relax a little more - things would not be helped if he remained so high-strung, "there is a difference between being able to fly, and being able to play a rough and oftimes dangerous sport like Quidditch. It is very impressive that you can fly, considering your situation - many with only limited use of their legs find that even that is beyond them. But Quidditch is another matter altogether. I know you're young, so perhaps the legal implications have completely gone over your head. The insurance costs alone," one of the worst things to come from the Muggle World, in Manfred's opinion, "would skyrocket if we were to allow you onto the field in the midst of a game. And that's before we even consider your ability."

Just the thought of the additional paperwork added to his in-tray gave Manfred the beginnings of a headache.

"We might - might - be able to bypass that with a waiver signed by your mother, but even then, there's the reputation of the school to consider." He resisted the urge to push his hair back with his hand, knowing that it would be a sign of stress and weakness, not something he wanted to have out on show. "And then we move onto the subject of ability." He paused again, feeling sorry for the boy, but not showing it.

"I realise that you don't wish to be treated any differently than the other students - but the fact is, that like it or not, you have been and will continue to be, because you are different. We have made changes to the school to ease your coming - including the pool in the Infirmary. None of the other students got anything like that. You might be able to fly, but that doesn't make it safe - or right - for you to be allowed to play in the school Quidditch tournament. Have you given thought to what position you'd play? How you would be able to fly without being able to hold onto the broom with your hands while avoiding others, performing your role, holding a bat or a ball? However much you wish to deny it, you are not an able-bodied student, like your fellows. This means that even if you wish to be treated the same, there are certain circumstances in which it is simply impossible.

"Certainly you may be on your house Quidditch team - that is of course, up to the discretion of your captain, Miss Wright - but I'm afraid that until we manage to work out a safe method of dealing with the legal and safety implications, and you have proven yourself capable of overcoming the handicaps that life has given you in a way that satisfies Coach Fox - who," despite her deplorable lack of manners, "is well qualified in both the positions of flying mistress and Coach - I'm afraid you will be grounded during games."

He wondered how long she would be, working out the distance between the pitch or her rooms, and his office.

"We'll discuss just what she wishes when she arrives. It shouldn't be long."\n\n
39 Headmaster Bulla I think we're in for a carnival ride here 2 Headmaster Bulla 0 5


Mika via Owl

February 04, 2007 3:54 AM

Way Bigger of a Deal Than I Ever Expected by Mika via Owl

Mika's spine grew even straighter, if that were at all humanly possible, and his jaw tightened. Behind his glasses, his eyes may have even flashed briefly with anger as the Headmaster told him he was being disrespectful. Now he was a disrespectful liar. Maybe it was an American thing, to just bandy about such serious accusations. Aside from those few minor things, none of the semi-shocked anger he felt showed on his face. There was only one thing to do, when being called disrespectful... be even more painfully respectful. He waited though, in silence, statue still, hands in his lap, as the headmaster dealt with the owl, and then told him who it was from. At that, a bit of expression broke through and his jaw dropped slightly.

It was as though she had some how known -known- that he had come straight here, and had anticipated his words. He would have sworn on the bible (not the Torah, he wasn't -that- sure) that she had no intention of dealing with this any time soon, when he walked... rolled... out of her office.

He closed his mouth quickly though, and returned to a posture and expression that would have made Mrs. Manners swoon with joy. When he spoke, his voice was calm... there was just the slightest quaver underneath it, probably only noticeable to someone who knew that children, like adults, were sometimes able to hide their true feelings.

"I am sorry, Headmaster Sir. I was unaware that I was being disrespectful." He really wanted to add something like 'I didn't realize that being a teacher made you beyond all reproach and that any suggestion that there is a possibility for petty behavior, especially considering they were talking about a woman who sat with her bare feet on her desk, as disrespectful.' He of course, said nothing of the sort. "I was actually unaware of Ms. Coach Fox's name until you informed me just now." He knew the Ms. was excessive in this situation, but he wasn't about to allow any more opportunity for his honor to be impugned.

When he addressed the next issue, he used a trick he had learned from his mother, to keep your voice from shaking or cracking when you were upset. You simple pitched it lower, both in volume and in pitch. As he spoke his voice actually grew quieter and calmer. For most children this level of self control would have been hard, if not impossible, but Mika was not most children. Also, what was considered acceptable for American children, tantrums, outburst, mouthing off, simply wasn't acceptable in his family, or in his culture.

"I am very aware of the legal issues involved, sir, if you will please forgive me for saying this, I have been disabled my entire life. One does not move to foreign countries without knowing what to expect for accessibility." He smiled slightly. "All legal implications should be taken care of by the aforementioned waiver from my mother. I admit I am unsure about the insurance. As for the reputation of your school... I think this may be a catch -22." He left it at that, not wanting to appear as though he were making any kind of threats. He wasn't. It was a simple fact, it would look just as bad if they didn't let him play as it would look if he cracked his skull and became even more of a retard than he already was. American media was great like that.

Then there was the issue of the pool. Mika's teeth almost cracked. That had been the medic's doing. All his mother had done was mention that in the past he had used swimming for exercise and therapy. The medic had run with it from there. If Mika had been a different boy, he would have asked exactly what other adaptations had been made to the school for his benefit. He had been here for a while now, and he was constantly having to deal with stairs, any time he wanted to go anywhere ever, and uneven terrain during magical creatures, he couldn't think of any other adaptation that had been made for him. What bars there were in the bathroom... which were required to be there anyway... he didn't need or use. Mika found it all kinds of unfair to have the addition of that pool all but thrown in his face. 'See kid, we've already had to spend money on you, you're in no position to ask for things' was what Mika heard as the meaning under the headmaster's words.

Stubborn pride and humiliation warred within Mika, and he had to look away, out the window, swallowing hard a couple times before he could continue. Part of him wanted to push this to the end, prove that he could fly, that he could play quiddich, and practice and practice until he was the best quiddich player on the team so he could give that horrible woman, and his team captain and the headmaster a metaphorical middle finger. Prove how wrong they had been to doubt him.

There was another half though... the half that knew he had limitations. The half that was terrified of dislocating a knee, yet again. The part that was embarrassed to be different. The fear that he really couldn't do it, and after all of this, he would prove them right, and fail, get hurt, fall off. That part of him wanted to just submit, give in, just tell the headmaster to forget he said anything. That part told him to stop trying to prove that he was able or capable, because the fact of the matter was, he was a cripple, and he would never be as good as everyone else. That he should just go back to his books, and be the good little crip that could never quite keep up, but was always good to have on your team for Trivial Pursuit, or cheat off of.

"I have thought this through," he said after a long moment of quiet, he turned his head back towards the headmaster, but his eyes stayed on his hands. His posture was still very proper, but some of the pride and defiance had gone out of it. That jab about the pool had been demoralizing. "I think I can play any of the positions, but that some are harder than others, Sir. My legs are not paralyzed. I can walk. I can not tell you, compared to other children my age, how strong or weak the muscles in my legs are. I honestly do not know. It takes much more effort for me to walk but I can walk... but that tires me out more quickly." He said candidly. "That can be solved by having more ways to use my legs though, to make them stronger. There is nothing wrong with my muscles. The reason I am in a wheelchair is because of my joints, my knees and hips. That does not effect my ability to stay on a broom. All it means is that it is easier for me to dislocate a knee." or a hip, but he wasn't going to say that. He had only done that a couple of times... "That is not a serious injury. I can even pop it back into place on my own. It's less serious than a broken bone. Which all players are at risk for."

"I can use my legs to stay on the broom with out my hands as well as any other first year. I've thought about which positions may be best for me, but I think I can play any of them... I am not saying I'll be good. Not being good is not the same as not being able."\n\n
0 Mika via Owl Way Bigger of a Deal Than I Ever Expected 0 Mika via Owl 0 5


Mika

February 04, 2007 3:56 AM

OOC: Whoops by Mika

OOC: The above post is be Mika, not Mika via Owl, the author line autofilled for me. Sorry everyone. Back to you regularly scheduled RP.\n\n
0 Mika OOC: Whoops 0 Mika 0 5


Amy Fox

February 04, 2007 12:01 PM

Arriving Via Summons by Amy Fox

All things considered, Amy had felt very proud of herself that she had taken such initiative to send the missive so quickly. Her shoes were still settled by her desk, all but forgotten. When she finally returned, she slumped once more into her chair, thoughts of the letter she had received once more coming to mind. Sighing heavily, Amy leaned back in her chair, lifting her bare, and now dirty, feet onto the desk. A scream lodged in her throat as she covered her face with her hands.

The Quidditch League refused to take her back. She was stuck at the school yet again. Breathing in deeply, Amy closed her eyes. It was all that she could do to keep from...

Something was in her office. Removing her hands, Amy opened her eyes and glanced around. Quickly spotting the owl, Amy moved to take the letter attached to its leg. Reading over the contents, Amy felt a surge of unwarranted anger. That kid had gone to the Headmaster behind her back. She had been straight forward with him, told him she would set up a meeting with the Headmaster as soon as the Headmaster's schedule would allow.

Allowing her feet to drop to the floor with a heavy thud, Amy wiped off her feet and immediately stuffed them into her boots, the magical strings quickly lacing. Stuffing her wand into her pocket, she left the room, her feet thundering as she made her way to the office.

When she entered the mansion, Amy paused momentarily to fix her hair, pulling the long strands into a semi-smooth ponytail. Breathing heavily, more out of anger than exertion, Amy made her way through the halls to the Headmaster's office. Once she was at the door, she offered a clipped knock as she waited for permission to enter.

\n\n
0 Amy Fox Arriving Via Summons 0 Amy Fox 0 5


Headmaster Bulla

February 06, 2007 7:53 PM

Things are coming to a head? by Headmaster Bulla

Precocious. It seemed the best word to describe the boy sitting across the desk from Manfred. Very sure of himself, and he acted in a way that seemed older than his years... although foreign living could do that to a child, as could living with a disability. It just wouldn't aid in him things like an indepth knowledge of political and legal issues, not that there seemed any convincing Mika'el of that.

Manfred was all too aware of how this kind of thing could blow up into something far more messy. Although Charms and, indeed education, had always been his mainstays, he had grown up in a family with links to the Council, to the Cabinet, and really to quite a wealth of information on all sorts of issues. His brothers had both gone into politics, one to each of the governing bodies, and his father... well, he seemed to be friendly with both sides, and have contacts and friends in high places, which generally meant dabbling of one sort or another. Then, add years of serving as Sonora's Deputy Headmaster, and the last few years of being Acting Headmaster and Headmaster proper, and Manfred had a fairly solid grounding in the nuances that could make life running a school - or indeed, most anything - very difficult indeed.

"Should, yes," he agreed with the boy, even though he had said as much about the waiver himself. He considered what he had heard of Mika'el's mother, but refrained from mentioning that he considered it highly unlikely that she would ever sign such a waiver. Nicolas had had quite a lot to say on the subject after their visit last year.

The slight frown that had been present on his face returned as he observed the boy's behaviour. Looking away, not keeping eye contact.

"Arguing will not change things," he eventually said, "excuses won't either. This is a situation in which I will have to consult some outside sources, and take into account the professional opinion of the school Quidditch Coach and Flying Mistress. You may think that it is as simple as whether you think you can or not, but I'm afraid it isn't."

He paused to pull open and check through a drawer for a moment. After the incident with Irene Liddowe he had pulled some of the student files and was going through them - by co-incidence he had almost been up to 'R' when he had stopped last night. Flipping quickly through the names, he pulled out the relevant file and glanced quickly at it. Half-blood, so probably a grounding in both worlds. Some details about the disability that Mika'el suffered from, which he would have to go talk to Wolfe about later, or perhaps do a little further study of his own.

"I'm sure that as an obviously avid fan of Quidditch you're aware that there are a plethora of rules which would prohibit magical aid in a great many areas. There is really no precedent that I'm aware of for disabled students being able to play - mostly, I'll admit, because it's a highly unusual situation for people in the Wizarding World. But even aside from that," and here his education in education was of some aid, that and a Muggleborn friend from his own school years who had been an avid fan of American football, "you don't see disabled students playing on the able-bodied sides of any schools - Muggle as well as Magical. Generally they have their own competitions... when there are enough of them for such a comp-"

The knock at the door interrupted him.

"One moment," he said to Mika, before climbing back to his feet and making his way to the door. He pulled it open, revealing the Coach waiting in the Hall. She seemed a bit out of breath, if her slightly heavy breathing was anything to go by, so he moved aside again quickly after an initial greeting, and gestured at one of the chairs.

"Take a seat, Coach Fox," he said, as he made his way back to his own seat. "Mika'el and I have been discussing some of the difficulties presented by his wish to play in the House Quidditch Tournament. I believe you had wanted to have a conference in regards to this?"\n\n
39 Headmaster Bulla Things are coming to a head? 2 Headmaster Bulla 0 5


Amy Fox

February 06, 2007 9:26 PM

I would hope so. by Amy Fox

Inhaling deeply, Amy yet again tried to rein in her emotions. Anger was one of her biggest faults as she quite often jumped the gun in a situation, allowing her emotions to get the better of her. She had never been the sort of person to remain calm in a situation. Although panic was one of the few emotions that she rarely felt, a vast array of others generally seemed to take over with rapid speed.

In this situation, however, Amy was bound and determined to be in control. Honestly, she wasn't a teenager anymore.

She had just begun to exhale when the door opened to reveal the Headmaster. Nodding toward him, she slowly entered the room, listening as he brought her up-to-date on the situation. She quickly learned that the kid was named Mika'el, what she assumed was some foreign version of Michael. Well, at least she now knew his name.

Taking the proffered seat, Amy braced her hands on her knees and waited until the Headmaster was seated before responding. "Yes," she said, nodding her head. "As my note stated, I wanted to set up a conference with you in order to discuss this issue. It seems, however, that I was beaten to the punch." Amy fought the urge to frown, as she was once again reminded that the student had gone behind her back.

"As I'm sure you have already been informed, Mika'el--" She motioned toward the student. "--has requested permission to not only fly, but to be a member of the Aladren Quidditch team. I informed him that I would need to first obtain your permission, as well as that of his mother. I also informed him that he would then have to go through a series of tests that would allow us to gauge the power of his legs and his ability to fly."

Taking a deep breath, Amy rubbed her palms against her robes. "While I have no problem with him possibly flying, there are so many liabilities that would be associated with a child of his situation playing Quidditch. Not only would it be a danger to himself, he could also present a potential danger to the other players on the field." At this, Amy paused, a light frown finally gracing her lips. "Again, I had wanted to discuss this with you under other circumstances, but obviously I have no choice. I was wondering what your opinion is on where we should go from here. What would be the best course of action?" \n\n
0 Amy Fox I would hope so. 0 Amy Fox 0 5


Mika

February 07, 2007 1:22 AM

One Can Hope... by Mika

Mika wasn't a lawyer of course, but precocious he certainly was. He didn't know all the details of the law, but he had the gist. Most muggle travel guides, good ones anyway, gave an overview of accessibility in a given country. Given what he'd read in his "lonely planet' book, and that America was famous... or infamous, for its spoken stance on issues of equality... well it was a short leap of logic.

As the headmaster continued to talk, Mika realized had made a tactical error, maybe two. He was pretty sure he had just been labeled a 'trouble maker'. He was causing trouble, stirring things up. If he had waited for Coach Fox to speak to the Headmaster first, and he had gone to his Head of House as he had originally planned, he may not have gotten that label. And he may have had at least one person on his side. At the moment, he had no one, and he doubted going to his Head of House now would gain him an advocate. Not once the headmaster had already weighed in. Obviously self advocacy wasn't working. On the other hand, if he had not come straight here, maybe the Coach would have taken her sweet time to owl him. It didn't matter now, he was fully committed to a course of action, there was no back peddling at this point.

The more the headmaster spoke though, the more Mika realized that he might have more success negotiating peace between Israel and Palestine than getting to fly. They way he was talking, he'd be lucky to be allowed in the stands to watch. When he got to the part about 'making excuses', Mika realized that he might as well be speaking Hebrew. If the man had heard a word he had said as anything than other than sound, he gave no indication of it. How could he make excuses, when there was nothing to be excused, nor was he asking for the headmasters to excuse him from anything, well aside from these rules that everyone seemed to be making up on the spot.

Mika finally gave up his stiff posture, sitting back in his chair, resting his hands on his wheels, he didn't have armrests. It didn't appear to matter too much, if he was polite or if he had come in throwing a tantrum, if he spoke calm and logically or if he cussed both adults out. Mika speculated he may have actually faired better if he had come in crying.

In all honesty he had expected some empathy from the headmaster, not sympathy, not pity, but at least some encouragement, even if the answer had been the same at the end of the day, but it had come with something like 'we're going to do what we can to get you in the air, kid'. Instead everyone seemed pissed that he was even trying.

The medic had clearly not had too much skill with kids, his head of house seemed nice, but reserved, rather like his mother, as though she didn't seem to know quite what to do with him. This "Coach" hardly seemed able to handle herself in polite company, let alone kids... And Mika assumed the headmaster had experience with children, you didn't fall into the job of headmaster, but he clearly had no interest in Mika as a person... only as a liability, just a hassle keeping him from whatever it was he'd rather be doing.

Mika held in a sigh, listening as the adults spoke to each other. He wondered briefly if he had gotten special treatment at his Yeshiva, not because he was a cripple, but because he was exceptionally bright. Meir Yeshiva had prized intelligence above all else. Maybe it was because it was a muggle school. His teachers had liked him there, had respected him, actually cared about him. Or at least pretended they did. His head of house had seemed at least more than indifferent, but she was the only one he could say that about. That was the adult world, he supposed. No one was going to look out for you.

It was in G-d's hands now, Mika told himself. He had made his case. He had talked to everyone he could talk to. Even if he somehow managed to out-fly the coach herself, all that would get him was the "privilege" of being allowed to mount a broom. His mother could give him permission and sign whatever legal papers they gave her. The medic could get a head injury and say he thought it was a great idea for Mika to play... but what it really came down to, was what the two people in this room said. Both of whom seemed to only grudgingly giving him a chance to prove he could get within ten feet of a broom, and were doing everything but actually saying 'quiddich isn't for crips'.

Just being as good as any other first year, not good for a first year in a wheel chair, but just as good as any first year, wasn't going to be enough. He could see that already. If that would have been enough... well really, they wouldn't be having this discussion, because all the other first years had joined the team before flying lessons had even been given, so no one knew if any of them could fly either. Hyana could be the worst flier in the world, and barely able to stay on her broom for all anyone knew, but it didn't matter because there was nothing wrong with her. She could fall off her broom every time she got on, and she could still be on the team. She could break a limb every game, and she could still be on the team. They were only barely allowing mika to even try flying. He knew he'd have to fly better than a first year. He'd have to actually fly well, period. Flying well for a first year wouldn't be enough. He'd have to fly well for anyone. And he just wasn't sure he could do that. Not yet. Not when he hadn't had a chance to practice. He had to get on a broom with just a handful of times on a broom under his belt, and no prior instruction, aside from what he had gotten from the older boys, which had mostly consisted of 'hold on', and if he wanted to play quiddich, he'd have to fly like at least a third year, he bet.

Then there was the issue of if he ever got hurt. All he'd have to do is break a finger... and they'd probably pull him off the team. As all these things ran through his brain, he almost held up a hand again to say 'forget it, forget I asked'. The idea of having to fight for this tooth and nail until the day he graduated was... nearly insurmountable. Besides, even if he flew well enough to play professionally, and his mother signed wavers, and all this liability was cleared up... they could still just tell him no, and there wouldn't be any recourse.

"Don't let anyone tell you you can't do something, baby, His mother had always told him. She may not like him doing things, like, say, playing quiddich. She may not want him to, be afraid he would get hurt, but she would never tell him he shouldn't try. He knew that if she heard what was being said to him, she would sign whatever form they wanted in an instant. She might be scared gray for him... but if he wanted to try, she'd let him. It was one thing if he just couldn't. He just couldn't run, for example. No matter how bad he wanted to or how hard he tried, he couldn't. When he had been seven, the other Healers he saw said he'd never be able to walk. So he and his mother had worked, and worked, until he could. And he was going to keep working until he could walk all day (with his crutches) and not get tired, or have his arms shake, or get knocked over.

Resolve once again firmed, he waited for them to finish talking about him. He was starting to wonder if they thought he'd explode on impact or something the way they were talking. Danger to the other players? That was nearly beyond the pale of believability. What he'd manage to fall off his broom, and somehow, because he was crippled, take everyone else down with him? Would the other players be struck so dumb with awe that he could fly that they'd collide with each other at high speeds? Even if that was true, Mika was sure they'd manage to get over it after a few minutes. That if he lost control of his broom he was was somehow signifigantly more likely to ram other students? That if he got hurt G-d would smite the other players with brimstone and lightening? The Jews may be 'G-d's chosen people', but that was a bit much.\n\n
0 Mika One Can Hope... 0 Mika 0 5


Manfred

February 23, 2007 4:24 PM

Indeed by Manfred

"Again, I had wanted to discuss this with you under other circumstances, but obviously I have no choice. I was wondering what your opinion is on where we should go from here. What would be the best course of action?"

Manfred again templed his fingers, examining the boy over them as Amelia spoke. He was definitely a troublemaker - well, there were other words for this kind of boy, but they weren't the type that Manfred was prone to use. If there was one thing Mika'el had proven today, it was that he was just as capable as any other boy of being headstrong and all too sure that his point of view was correct and that any who stood against him were wrong, however couched he had made that view. In regards to Manfred himself, at least.

He was clearly intelligent, Manfred resisted the urge to sigh. If only he could see the point of his elders here, and would concentrate on something more within his reach.

"Well," he said, allowing his attention to take in the coach again, "I believe there was talk of you putting young Mika'el though his paces on the pitch, to determine his ability and how he would cope in the midst of a game. And I have plans to contact a few people and make enquiries as to what the insurance costs would be." See just how much trouble this child could get the school into.

He was reminded, suddenly and rather vividly of Regina Pierce. Regina and Mika would probably get on like a house on fire... so long as Mika learned that when Regina said jump his answer would include a definite attempt at doing exactly as he was asked.

"What kind of tests were you thinking of?" he asked. He asked this as much for Mika's benefit as for his own. "And when do you think you might be able to schedule them in?"\n\n
39 Manfred Indeed 0 Manfred 0 5


Amy Fox

February 28, 2007 4:26 PM

Medic anyone? by Amy Fox

Listening, Amy nodded her head as the headmaster spoke. Yes, she had mentioned giving him a test of sorts to get a true estimate of his ability on a broom. She need to know whether or not he would be able to withstand the pressure of being on a broom for hours, something that even ablebodied students, at times, had problems with. People would have to be contacted, especially concerning the liability risks and costs of having a student such as Mika'el play Quidditch.

Entwining her fingers, in order to keep her from doing something stupid with them more than anything else, she paused for a moment to consider the question. What kind of tests was she thinking of?

"Well," she started off slowly, in order to get her bearings. "I believe that the medic needs to be contacted about this. He will need to give me more information about Mika'el's condition and also give me his educated opinion on whether or not he believes that Mika'el will be able to handle it.

"From there, we will need to place him on a broom in order to determine his skill. This part would be basically like the first year flying lessons where we go through the basics to make sure that he is able to fly."

Amy paused for a moment, rubbing her earlobe between her thumb and forefinger in thought. "Due to the dangerous nature of Quidditch, we'll have to put him through a simulation of sorts in order to make sure that he can withstand the pressure of being on a broom for hours. We will be unable to latch him to the broom, if that is needed, as that can prove extremely dangerous during play. Also, as the other players are unable to tie themselves, or their legs to the broom, it would not be fair if he were allowed to do so."

Breathing in deeply, Amy closed her eyes for a moment before blowing out a puff of air. "Umm...he would need to be tested on endurance and strength. I do not intend to make this test either difficult or impossible but I need to make sure that Mika'el will be fully able to function during the game."

Dropping her hand to her lap, Amy clasped her hands once more. "Do you personally have any suggestions?"\n\n
0 Amy Fox Medic anyone? 0 Amy Fox 0 5


Manfred

March 01, 2007 9:24 PM

Yeah, might be an idea for you to go consult him too by Manfred

Manfred glanced sideways at Mika, considering Amelia's words. It was strange, that one so young and clearly intelligent seemed to be so belligerant and purposely ignorant about some things - however calmly he couched his words. Admittedly, being from the magical world where few people were in muggle constructs like the wheelchair (again, the one exception he could think of was Regina Pierce) he didn't have a wealth of experience with them, but it all seemed quite straightforward. The boy could walk, but with difficulty, and would get himself around by pushing the wheels. So... upper body strength was expected, but lower body strength was not. And riding a broom was not like going around in a wheelchair. It wasn't just sitting; it was a whole body experience using muscles from the toes up the back, around the front and down to the fingers. Putting it further, and considering Mika playing in a game, having to push himself to do more, to catch and throw, or to bash a bludger with a bat... it seemed a remote and unlikely possibility that the boy would be able to manage it without killing himself.

Liability.

Responsibility.

Respectability.

All were important, as was the safety of the students and staff. Was it really so hard to understand? Except that Mika wanted to be like everyone else...

It wasn't Mika's fault. No one wanted to be different, and Manfred realised that, which is why he felt sorry for the boy. It had to be hard, not being able to join in everything like the other boys. Yes, protecting the school was important, but so was protecting Mika, even if it was from himself and his inability to see that he might have limitations. But then, children rarely were able to see those. They knew they would be young and strong and able forever. They knew they were immortal. Manfred didn't want them to learn that it wasn't true in a terribly graphic manner.

Reining in his thoughts Manfred nodded at Amy.

"That all sounds good. I'd suggest that you seek out Medic Wolfe and get him to collaborate with you on designing these tests. Tell him I'd appreciate him being there too, to help monitor them," he didn't add that he wanted the Medic there in case something went wrong, because he wanted to leave Mika with some dignity. "And I think that's all. I expect Wolfe will be in the infirmary, so easy enough for you to locate, and I shall write to Mika's mother, seeking permission for the tests to take place and advising her of Mika's interest in joining his house team. Mika," he turned back to the boy. "If you've a letter you wish sent home to your mother, I can send it along with mine. Just have it here within the hour. I imagine you're quite anxious for these tests to begin as soon as possible."

And even before the tests were done, Manfred planned to look into the other things. Insurance and liability. He didn't mention it in front of the other two - Amy might make a fuss and he wanted her focused on the tests (not on the possibility of the boy actually playing quidditch), and he didn't want to give Mika false hopes - but it was always better to be prepared.\n\n
39 Manfred Yeah, might be an idea for you to go consult him too 0 Manfred 0 5


Amy Fox

March 05, 2007 9:19 AM

Aw shucks. Me and my big mouth. by Amy Fox

Unclasping her hands, Amy rubbed her hands accross the soft material of her robes, smoothing out invisible creases. The image of the letter from the American Quidditch League was still firmly planted in her mind, the sugar-coated words causing her mood to become all the more sour as she continued to concentrate on them. Of course, it hadn't helped that the child, Mika'el, had decided to happen upon her at the precise moment she had realized she was stuck in this godforsaken institute indefinitely. Her thoughts turning toward the boy, Amy turned her head, focusing her eyes on him. There were so many things that children of his age refused to believe about themselves simple due to naivety.

She tried to remember herself at eleven. She had been in a seat opposite the headmaster's once upon a time, although for quite different circumstance. She had always been a hellion, trying to defy her families wishes even at a young age. Admittedly a tomboy, she had destroyed the ribbons and dresses her mother had constantly purchased for her, wearing the limited number of pants she owned until they were practically unwearable. Who knew that she would fall into Quidditch so easily, when almost everything else seemed to take an effort.

The boy just didn't realize his limitations, Amy reminded herself. He was still in that age where he thought that he could do and be anything no matter what anyone else told him. Another year or two and reality would finally sink in. Until then, she would have to deal with him.

The main problem was that he didn't realize how uncommon his situation was in the Wizarding World. With potions and charms, the medical community had, for the most part, kept wizards and witches in top health. Of course, there were illnesses such as dragon pox from which even the strongest of souls took a few days to recover. But with Skele-Gro, bones were easily restructured, placing few in the place where this boy now found himself.

It seemed, however, that the boy had an infuriatingly know-it-all personality that made up for his lack of mobility. He was rude and impudent and went above the heads of adults just at a whim. He took things into his own hands and completely failed to realize that he was in the wrong. If he wanted something, he had to have it then and now.

The child was spoiled beyond all belief. Amy mentally rolled her eyes.

Realizing that the headmaster had begun to respond, Amy tuned in. Amy physically had to restrain herself from groaning when he suggested that she speak to Wolfe about the test. The medic was...insufferable, at best. She couldn't stand him or his better-than-thou personality. Having to spend time with him was more than she could bear. Life was definitely handing her a bad hand of cards at the moment.

Nodding stiffly, Amy fought all urges of suggesting an alternative. She knew, beyond a doubt, that she would have to go to the infirmary following this meeting and speak to Wolfe. She would have to see him, breaking her oath of avoiding him at all costs, and waste some of her precious time speaking with him.

Moving to her feet, Amy nodded first to Mika'el, then to the headmaster. "I guess I'll be on my way. I'll stop by the Infirmary and see what Medic Wolfe and I can do about this. I'll shoot you an Owl as soon as we have made some headway on the situation. If there's nothing else you need of me, I'll be on my way."\n\n
0 Amy Fox Aw shucks. Me and my big mouth. 0 Amy Fox 0 5