Flying around on Quidditch Pitch

Coach Pierce

January 11, 2013 11:28 PM

Flying Lessons by Coach Pierce

Coach Amelia Pierce had given basically the same first lesson for the nine years she had been employed as Sonora's Quidditch Coach. There had been a few students who had never fully (or partially) mastered broom riding but, for the most part, the class was considered one of the easier ones taught at the school. Second years who had gotten less than an O were permitted to take it again to improve their performance, but most didn't need to. In a handful of cases, some students who had earned Os took the course again anyway, just for the extra flying time. She had no age limit for how long a student could retake their flying lessons, but she had yet to have anyone older than third year join the first years. It was, after all, a beginner class.

She saw little need to change the curriculum; flying basics were fairly, well, basic and there was not a lot of variation possible. She also saw no reason to subject students who already knew how to fly to the tedium of those basics. So today's class started very much the same as every first flying lesson had for the last nine years.

"Hello, and welcome to flying lessons. I am Coach Pierce. Flying lessons are required for all first year students, so everyone will be participating. If you already know how to fly, you do not have go through the basics with the beginners, but you do need to arrive promptly and spend the period on a broom. Every class will begin with a roll call, and then the experienced players may break off for Pitch laps or various broom games. We have Quidditch balls and other equipment for your use." Muggleborn students would recognize several varieties of other sports balls. She had a few Quods in her shed that were available upon request outside of classtime, but the explosive nature of Quodpot was not conducive for the lessons going on with the less experienced fliers. "As long as you are not disruptive to the beginner class, you may play whatever you like in the air."

"So, I will take the roll now, then we can split into those two groups. "Ambrose, Rajid," she began. None of the names were particularly notable to her, though she recognized several surnames from possible older relatives. 'Boxton-Fox-Reynolds,' she expected, was not a particularly common one and must surely be Henny's younger brother. There was a Hernandez that she tried not to pause over, though she felt sure someone would have told her if a California Pierce was starting this term, so she was probably not Jose's sister. Perhaps a cousin on his paternal side? Squib families did sometimes produce magical heirs.

"We have brooms, here," she indicated the collection of brooms she had arranged before class began. "If you already know how to use one, go ahead and take one if you don't have your own. If I have to interrupt my lesson for any reason, the responsible parties will serve detention and spend the rest of the month down here hovering. So nothing dangerous or disruptive. Otherwise, go have fun. Everyone else, line up."

Once the experience fliers had launched and moved away, she turned her attention to the remaining group. "As I said, this is a required course. You need to complete it to graduate. With any luck, you will leave it knowing how to use a broom to transport yourself. With better luck and some interest on your part, you may be able to get a spot on your House Quidditch Team. Particularly this year, I encourage anyone interested in playing Quidditch to sign up when you get back to your common rooms. Due to the challenges taking place this year, there are no formal games, so your captains will be training you in how to play for a full year before you have to go up in a real match." As she spoke, she handed out brooms, one to each student.

"We begin simply. Place the broom on the ground beside you. If you are right-handed, put it to your right. If you are left-handed, put it to your left. Hold your hand over the broom and command it, Up! Be firm and confident or it won't work. If any of you have dogs or elves, use the same tone of voice as you would use with them."

She held her hand out over her own broom and demonstrated, "Up!" The broom leapt easily into her hand. "It may take a few tries so do not get discouraged. Keep trying. Once you have your broom in the air, please try a low hover. Either put one leg over to straddle the broom, or sit side-saddle. Please let me know if you plan to side saddle your broom. I'll have to adjust the cushion charm."

"Please begin."

OOC: Welcome to Sonora and to Flying lessons. You earn house points for your character by attending classes such as this one. The better your posts are (in both quality and quantity), the more points you will earn. Please be wary of writing for other characters (god-modding) without permission. For example, if you toss another player a ball, it is up to them to decide if they caught it or not, though you can qualify that it was a good throw or entirely off-mark so they know how difficult it should be. That said, you do have my permission to have Amelia change your charm to side-saddle if you raise your hand and ask her for it. Now go forth and write long detailed creative posts and have fun with it!

Subthreads:

A pre-emptive strike by Francesca Wolseithcrafte with Malcolm Carey, Pecari, Mal Carey, Mal Carey, Pecari

Quaffle Toss Anyone? by Adam Spencer with Percival Everett Waterford II, Adam, William Casey

Flying around by Keme RunningBear, Aladren with Charlie B-F-R, Jeweliah Dyste, Keme, Omara Hernandez, Omara Hernandez, Pecari

Side-Saddle is uncomfortable. by Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus with Gemma Bennett, Teppenpaw, Ginny

Riding solo by Rajid Ambrose

I'm not really off to a stellar start. by Julian Umland, Teppenpaw with Jude Butler

I have to be confident? by Analea Thornton

0 Coach Pierce Flying Lessons 0 Coach Pierce 1 5

Francesca Wolseithcrafte

January 13, 2013 8:50 AM

A pre-emptive strike by Francesca Wolseithcrafte

School, thus far, was neither really here nor there. A Pierce had spoken to her at the feast, and had continued to speak in spite of seemingly recognising her last name. That was a more positive reaction than she had hoped for or been led to believe would happen. Her roommates though were dreadful. Neither had any heritage. She would have to be civil to them for seven years, even though every word she spoke to them was a waste of breath. That was a crushing disappointment. It also sat uneasily with her that her first lesson was to be flying. Mother had told her not to compromise her beliefs but she had also told her to try to make friends. It was easy to ignore some ranting stranger, harder to ignore someone with whom one had made a connection already. She had not had a chance to speak to anyone in her year yet who counted, or to make a positive impression – how irking that her roommates were so useless in this respect – and now she was being put in a situation where her behaviour would distance people from her. Loyalties could not be tested before they even existed.

She thought through the options available. The thought of sitting side saddle and feigning delicacy at the idea of flying made her sick to her stomach. Yet would she be immediately an outcast if she did anything else? Was there any flexibility in the way these people thought about others? She felt the weight of the moment hanging on her so heavily that she wasn’t sure she would be able to become airborne anyway. If she turned everyone against her on her first day, there would be no point to the next seven years of her life. But she had principles, and had been brought up to believe that sticking to them, even in the face of adversity, was the mark of a good character. Was it possible, she wondered, to be herself and justify it? These people were so fixed in their views – in spite of the fact that they had only been Wizarding Kind’s views for a handful of decades - that it would be difficult. She couldn’t exactly give them a full lecture and time for it to sink in.

She tried not to noticeably react to her own name being called, except to confirm her attendance. Was it paranoia, or did she feel one or two curious eyes on her back? A Wolseithcrafte. In a flying lesson. Was it true what they said about the family? Was she like the rest of them?

“Up!” she commanded of the borrowed school broom. She hoped it counted for something that she did not appear to have one of her own. However this small point was likely to be strongly counteracted, and the curious stares answered, by the ease with which the unfamiliar instrument leapt to her hand and by the fact that she threw one leg over it, sitting astride. She looked up, finding someone looking at her. She met their gaze unblinkingly and with absolute self assurance and defiance of anything they might be daring to think about her. She was a witch, from a good family that was proud of its magical history – of course she knew how to fly.

“I’ve never understood what’s supposed to be so wrong with this,” she declared, not troubling to keep her voice down so as to answer the unspoken question of anyone else around her who was staring. “I think to read something dirty into this, the person in question must have an incredibly filthy mind.” She had seen her mother use this line to good effect when receiving judgemental stares of even open criticism. It seemed to back people into something of a corner, response-wise, or simply made them too embarrassed to speak. That was not necessarily a victory as she was sure their minds weren’t changed and that it did not stop them from gossiping afterwards but it was a useful defence. She didn’t fully understand it, having always assumed that girls were supposed to sit side-saddle just because. Because society insisted that girls and boys did things differently, to mark girls out as doing things properly (or not). When she had asked her mother what was rude about sitting on a broom this way, her mother had blushed somewhat and told her she would understand it better when she was older.

13 Francesca Wolseithcrafte A pre-emptive strike 250 Francesca Wolseithcrafte 0 5

Adam Spencer

January 13, 2013 9:07 AM

Quaffle Toss Anyone? by Adam Spencer

The first few days in the States had been fascinating to Adam so far. He had been watching the American students closely, trying to pick up on their slang and manner of speech. They had accents he had heard before, but it sounded different, of course, than what he was used to. Being from London, he had, of course, come into contact with Americans before, but had never lived among them. The amount of Brits here did surprise him, however, and Adam found a bit of comfort in it.

He had written to his family just the day before letting them know how he was doing. Adam was a bit worried about his classes, but that was understandable. He had never had a real class before, though he had been taught by tutors who taught several students at once. That didn't really count, though, since it was always in the tutor's home and not in a classroom. Adam was still waiting for a reply, but he knew his owl would probably take a long time flying across the ocean, unless there was some sort of Portkey for the post. He wasn't exactly certain how that all worked.

Flying lessons was one class Adam wasn't concerned with too much. He had flown many times before, and, though he wasn't nearly as good as some of his other relatives, he was skilled enough to fly competitively. He even had his own broom, a gift from his dad before leaving England. It was sleek and new, so new Adam hadn't even tried it out yet. He would have good time to break it in now.

Adam stood with the others as Coach Pierce began roll call. He was always near the bottom and so didn't pay much attention till she reached the 'R's.' He was glad Coach Pierce was aware that there were those who knew how to fly, and so split with the others afterwards. He picked up a quaffle and looked at the others in the group.

"Anyone fancy tossing a quaffle back and forth?" he asked. He didn't think there would be enough people for a complete Quidditch match, and he didn't want to do that yet anyway. He didn't want to risk detention in case the match got out of hand, which it could easily do. Adam wondered briefly if the witches here were less likely to join in a Quidditch match. There were the pure-bloods so concerned with propriety they didn't let the girls ride a broom, but Adam had not come into contact with that sort too often. More often than not, the witches in London looked forward to learning how to ride a broom when they entered school, while he had played Quidditch with others, his sister included.

40 Adam Spencer Quaffle Toss Anyone? 257 Adam Spencer 0 5

Keme RunningBear, Aladren

January 13, 2013 1:31 PM

Flying around by Keme RunningBear, Aladren

Keme did not understand the necessity for making flying a mandatory lesson for everyone. He had been flying since a small child. Their lands back in Montana were vast and would take far too long to travel by foot. They did not like to keep their floo network open and only had it open for certain people who were important and needed to be in contact with people at all times. Adults could apparate if they wanted too, but the kids always rode brooms. To him, he didn’t see an absolute need to learn it as it was just a means for transportation. He had no plans on playing Quidditch, so flying for fun didn’t happen for him either.

Keme’s tribe still held its values and traditions from long ago. They learned to track when they were small children. Keme had been at the top of his class. His Grandfather, the Chief, believed as did their ancestors, that the only way to be true to their magic, was by learning the ways without it first. So, for years they learned to track by uses all of their senses. Once they were able to master this and they reached Of Age, they were to go on a spiritual journey and use their magical skills as well as their tracking skills for a three day span and discover themselves. Once you were able to complete this journey and find their spiritual guide, you were considered and adult and able to lead.

These were the things that Keme found important. Learning to walk with both feet and understanding the greatness of that. Not playing games and forgetting the small things. Brooms were just a necessity. People began too engrossed in the sports and competition and forgot everything else.

But, he did not have a choice in taking flying lessons. Thankfully, it seemed that anyone who knew how to fly could do so at their leisure while Coach Pierce taught everyone else. Keme called here when he heard his name and ignored any strange glances shot his way based on it. Their names held meaning. His father’s family was granted their name by the chief centuries ago (later in their tribe, the chief’s daughter married a RunningBear, which has since put Keme’s family in the lineage). They earned it when they saved the tribe from a rampaging bear. It was an honor to have the name.

When they were dismissed to go into their respective groups, Keme took a school broom and found himself easily enough into the air. He stayed away from the girl who snapped at someone because they looked at her and chose not to pass any balls around since that just wasn’t his thing. Instead, he just flew lazily around waiting for the lesson to end for the day.

0 Keme RunningBear, Aladren Flying around 0 Keme RunningBear, Aladren 0 5

Malcolm Carey, Pecari

January 14, 2013 10:27 AM

Well done! by Malcolm Carey, Pecari

Mal prided himself on being able to keep his thoughts to himself, but as he entered the Quidditch Pitch, he couldn’t help but look around the great space with some interest, since he had never seen a real one before. He had seen diagrams and pictures in books from time to time – very much from time to time, not regularly at all; Mother believed deeply that the Carey women in particular had bad blood and had tried to keep anything she thought might ever tempt his sister to go astray out of the house as much as she could – but going to games, along with learning to fly properly in the first place, was one of those things which he’d never really gotten to do.

It would, his mother had often sighed, have been different if his father had lived. If his father had not died, then the one time Mal had ever been on a broom, at the Reunion a few years ago, would not have been a three-minute stretch that ended with a nasty concussion and no real memory of the event, as it would not have involved the South Carolinians just throwing him on a broom and assuming he knew how to use it because they’d needed a seventh and they had only had six underage males actually named Carey in their branch. Father would have taught him properly, as was the usual way, and then he should have been a proper boy when he came to school. It was, Mother liked to say, very tragic, but proof of what “they” always said, about how bad people got their just reward. His father had been a bad man, a liberal man, and he had died not as a result of being involved in some complicated politics but really – deep down, Mother would stress, when it came down to the cosmic order, the real reasons why things happened – for that, and now he was dead and they were all still suffering for his sins and would continue to suffer until Mal was a man and could make up for it all.

Mal, for his part, thought it was just possible that Mother simply wanted another reason to rant about sin and terror, because he had done perfectly well without a father in every other circumstance which would normally require he had one after the family either hired him a substitute or just sent someone from another branch to do it, but he did not say so. He thought Mother got more pleasure out of working herself into a state than she did from anything else in the world, and he guessed he was already being unkind enough by refusing to make her even happier by acting like a nervous wreck, as his sister did, during her fits.

“Present,” he replied when his name was called off the roll, watching, as he had during the Sorting, the Deputy Headmistress for any signs that a demon of liberal politics and personal abandon was about to burst out of her skin and eat all their souls, but once again she disappointed him. He had, though, bigger issues to think about at the moment. As a boy, he ought to be with the group playing Quidditch, but he was faced again with the much more practical problem of not knowing how to fly without ending up unconscious, or at least with a good chance he had it. He supposed a Bludger could have contributed to what had happened the last time, but he wasn’t sure if he had dreamed that part, while he was clearer about the part where it had tried to go away with him and he’d at least started to slip.

He sighed slightly, then stayed with the beginners, refusing to count to see how many were girls. It was not his fault his father had somehow – Mal had never figured out the details – ended up with a sudden and terminal case of having more brains on his shirt than he did in his head, most people who counted would know that his father had done that, and Mal had no desire to succumb to the same malady today. Spending a day learning properly was not, he was sure, sufficient to crush his social life forever.

“Up,” he ordered his assigned broom, then frowned when it just gave a funny little jump. “Up!” he repeated sharply, and this time, it made it to his hand. He rubbed the right side of his jaw with his free hand, not comfortable with having been so loud, and then got on the broom without a catastrophe. He wondered where the stadium full of applauding admirers he should have had for the accomplishment was.

Since he had nothing better to do until they arrived, he looked around to see how his fellow beginners were doing and then continued watching one girl just because she made a point, when they happened to look at each other at the same time, of staring and he wondered what he had done to provoke that. Mal knew he could inspire feelings in people, when he wanted to, but he hadn’t been trying then.

Then she made her declaration, and he supposed he knew what this was about. Girls and brooms; he’d forgotten. His sister had been a nervous wreck when she had to take flying lessons, sure after Mother’s many speeches that she’d somehow be corrupted by twenty minutes spent sidesaddle, as though it were any different from the horseback riding she did all the time without anyone saying a word about it, but being a nervous wreck was Lucille’s default state and Mal had never found that issue very interesting anyway. “The world is full of them,” he replied pleasantly to her declaration. “Though to be fair, the world is full of dirt to make them that way, too. See?” He pointed at the ground, which was, of course, dirt under the grass covering.

0 Malcolm Carey, Pecari Well done! 0 Malcolm Carey, Pecari 0 5

Charlie B-F-R

January 14, 2013 12:47 PM

Room for company? by Charlie B-F-R

Charlie did not have particularly strong feelings about his flying lessons. Henny had passed the class with a decent-ish grade and she didn’t really like going fast. She had fully briefed him on what to expect and the fact that, as he knew how to fly, he would be able to do whatever he wanted for the lesson, within reason. Essentially, it was a free period for him, except that he had to spend it on a broom, which would probably not have been his first choice. He stayed near to the beginners when they split up, although not close enough to really be in the group, as he could ride but wasn’t exactly confident.

“Up!” he commanded. He’d brought his own broom to school although he doubted anyone would get the impression he’d be playing Quidditch. It wasn’t a particularly sporty broom, just a basic, every day kids’ one for messing about on in the yard. That was about as far as his skills extended too. He’d learnt to ride when he was little as most kids did and he occasionally played in their yard or went for rides in the park as they lived in a magical neighbourhood. He mounted his broom and hovered, pushing along the ground with his feet to make himself drift before remembering that his Dad usually told him off for being childish when he did that. Technically, he hadn’t broken the Coach’s rules; he was on a broom and not disturbing anyone but he thought she probably wouldn’t be very impressed. He picked his feet up and hovered between the groups, looking for anyone else who seemed to know how to sit on a broom but not much more.

“No thanks,” he called back to the boy organising a game of catch, seeing as he could be considered in calling distance for that. He wasn’t sure his level of comfort with the broom extended to diving around and taking his hands off the handle. There was another boy just sort of drifting around. Charlie wasn’t really sure that he wanted company but it didn’t hurt to try asking. It was sort of awkward being in the fliers group but not the “into sports” group, which was why he’d hung around in between, so maybe the other guy felt the same way and just needed someone else to make the first move and be friendly.

“Hey, do you mind if I join you?” he asked, “I’m kind of used to riding around but sports aren’t really my thing,” he added, hoping that this meant they had something in common.

13 Charlie B-F-R Room for company? 252 Charlie B-F-R 0 5

Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren

January 14, 2013 1:13 PM

Thank you? by Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren

Francesca’s lips twitched into a small smile at the boy’s comment about the ground. It was really a fairly silly joke but it was still a joke, and one in a rather unexpected situation. She schooled her face back into a serious expression again, although she didn’t look nearly so stern as before. She pondered whether to say anything more on the subject. His comment that the world was full of dirty-minded people she could certainly think of a few replies to – that it wasn’t her fault and that, by that logic, girls should aim to be actively unattractive lest they put ideas into peoples heads, and that one had to draw the line somewhere and that she drew it this side of girls being allowed to sit astride a broom. But that seemed heavy handed in comparrison with the response he had given her. He was being lighthearted about the whole issue and, whilst to her the matters at hand were deadly serious, she wasn’t supposed to be in full on fierce and fighting mode yet. She was supposed to be herself. Whatever that left, once you subtracted caring about all the political issues she’d been raised to believe in.

The boy, still standing on the ground in front of her, was an intriguing prospect. She could have sworn that he had answered to the name of Carey during the roll call and yet there were a number of things that didn’t fit with that. The first and most obvious being that he was still down on the ground and hanging about with beginners. The second was that he didn’t seem put off by her. He was joking with her about the fact that she was sitting astride a broom, for Merlin’s sake. If she had had to guess, she would have thought those things added up to indicate a Mudblood but she was convinced enough by her own observations of the roll call to not risk that assumption. That left the possibility that her behaviour was not an automatic death sentence amongst the rich and influential, which was a somewhat better outcome than she had really dared to hope for.

“All the more reason to make sure you have a nice, stable purchase on your broom,” she countered, in reference to his assertion that the ground was dirty, “I would not wish to fall from grace.” She could have gone into the statistics on how many more accidents there were in side saddle riders but it did not seem necessary. Not unless he criticised her and she needed to defend herself.

13 Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren Thank you? 250 Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren 0 5

Mal Carey

January 15, 2013 8:57 PM

You're very welcome by Mal Carey

Mal had half-expected the girl – who had an expression, he thought, not unlike his mother’s, one that took itself too seriously and was just beginning to have a pin stuck in it to deflate it a little – to blow up at having her attempt at making a grand statement basically mocked to her face, but instead, she smiled for a moment. He blinked, not sure what to make of that, but thought he kept from reacting much further than that. Now they were back where they had been, looking at each other with what he guessed were their default faces.

People could, after all, look so different depending on their expressions. Sometimes, it could be like they were completely different people altogether, almost unrecognizable, at least for him. Some people, he was sure, were better at recognizing people anyway than he was. Everyone had their talents.

The phrase fall from grace, though, reminded him of his mother. He kicked off carefully, rising a few feet in the air slowly, not wanting to zoom away and fall again, as he thoughtlessly had the last time he was on a broom. “I’m more worried about falling from the air,” he said.

He, for his part, did not have a clue who she was, since he had not paid much attention during the roll call, and he did not really care. He was going to guess by her feeling the need to make a statement about flying that she was wizard-born, because why would Muggles know anything about it, but either destined to be a scandal or at least from different circles than he was familiar with. Not that he was familiar with circles in general, since he was almost never allowed to leave the house, but he had learned the names, and had no reason to suspect the Careys sent from other branches to teach him about society were lying to him.

Well...not much of a reason, anyway. They had, after all, he thought, deliberately picked Virginia scholars for that duty, most of whom could barely care less which branch was in power as long as they could afford books and parchment and ink. Some people did say it never paid to be too sure, though.

0 Mal Carey You're very welcome 0 Mal Carey 0 5

Percival Everett Waterford II

January 15, 2013 9:22 PM

I'm in! by Percival Everett Waterford II

Percival made his way out to the Quidditch Pitch. He was carrying the broom that his parents had bought him halfway through the summer and all of the hopes and dreams that he could actually pull off a convincing show in this class. Since it was something that all proper, well-brought up young wizards learned very young his tutor insisted on teaching him how to fly as a part of his training. To that end his parents had gotten him the broom and he had spent a good amount of his afternoons sprawled out in the dirt or caught in one of the trees in the backyard. To her credit, his tutor had been very enthusiastic, positive and encouraging thus he eventually learned something that looked vaguely like proper broom flying.

Standing in line, he called out "Present!" when the Deputy Headmistress called his name. Then after listening to her and careful consideration he decided he was supposed to be one of the people already in the air playing with the balls. Plus this would also give him some extra practice before Quidditch try-outs. When one of the boys ran, grabbed a quaffle and asked if anyone else was interested, Percy responded with a resolute "Sure!"

He mounted his broom as he had done many times over the summer and took off into the air, soaring majestically. At least that had been the plan, he skimmed the ground dragging his feet before kicking off and actually gaining some altitude. His broom wavered a bit before plummeting back to the ground where he barely pulled out of the dive before impact. Finally leveling off he sailed around at a mostly constant altitude looking for the boy with the quaffle again. This was a heck of a lot easier without trees to worry about.

2 Percival Everett Waterford II I'm in! 1502 Percival Everett Waterford II 0 5

Francesca Wolseithcrafte

January 17, 2013 12:22 PM

This is going suspiciously well. by Francesca Wolseithcrafte

“Well, from this height you really won't even bruise. Nothing except your pride, of course,” Francesca quipped when the boy mentioned being worried about falling. He really was a curiosity. She wasn't sure most boys, even from non-wizarding families, usually admitted to being scared of what would, at its most serious, amount to a slight grazing of the knees. Boys were supposed to be tough and strong. But he wasn't being mean to her and was almost managing to make playful banter, even if his comments were a bit slow or obvious. She would go so far as to say that she did not actively dislike him.

“Whilst I don't suggest attempting to break any records for speed, it really is easier to keep your balance if you're moving,” she advised. She leant forward, pulling the broom handle at first away but then back around towards him so as to bring herself around in arc and pull up alongside him. “Lean about as far forward as I do, it should take us forward at a jogging speed, which is a good speed for...” she hesitated, not wanting to call him a beginner, seeing as – if he was a Carey – he logically should not be, “balancing,” she supplied, pleased with how quickly she had thought of a way out of the sentence.

“Am I correct that you answered to Malcolm Carey in the roll call?” she asked, “You will have to forgive me, my memory for branch affiliations has never been perfect...” she added apologetically. She had wanted to bring up the subject in a way that forced him to declare branch affiliation as, although most people did this without asking, some people were more casual, especially in a situation like this. There was every chance he simply coincidentally shared a last name with a prominent family and was really just a Muggleborn or halfblood – although she was sure that The Careys had a Malcolm. If it was the case that he was a Coincidental Carey, he would probably not understand her question regarding branches and thus be exposed. If he was an actual Carey, it would not explain what he was doing hovering with the beginners but at least she would know him to be acceptable company.

13 Francesca Wolseithcrafte This is going suspiciously well. 250 Francesca Wolseithcrafte 0 5

Adam

January 17, 2013 1:55 PM

That's a promising start by Adam

One reason why Adam enjoyed Quidditch so much was that you didn't have to introduce yourself before playing. Anyone was game for the game and Adam didn't like complicating it with long-winded and perhaps unnecessary introductions. Of course, it would make things a bit awkward later when they had to ask the other's name, but he wanted to toss the quaffle around right now, not later.

Adam rose up on his broom, tossing the quaffle up and down in one hand. He nearly dropped it on his ascent, but caught it quick enough, though his blood was now pumping adrenaline from the almost accidental drop. Two was a start to a good quaffle-tossing. If others wanted to join, they were more than welcome.

"Here," he called to the wizard and threw it over at him. Adam didn't have the strongest build known to any lad, but he was average and had a good arm to throw things. The other boy looked like he had been having fun on his broom before Adam threw the quaffle at him, and he did a couple loops, feeling happy that he had an entire pitch to fly around. Living in the city, there wasn't always enough room to fly around freely, not to mention the Muggles that could most likely see him in the sky if he flew too high. "Are you planning to sign up for the team?" he asked his companion once he got close enough.

0 Adam That's a promising start 0 Adam 0 5

Jeweliah Dyste

January 17, 2013 10:43 PM

Three's company by Jeweliah Dyste

Jeweliah wasn’t terribly excited about flying lessons. Having two magical parents, she knew how to fly, she just preferred not to. She wasn’t this lithe thing that sat easily astride a broomstick, in fact she felt awkward and uncomfortable flying. Even with cushioning charms, sitting on a broom didn’t feel great; nor did Jewels appreciate the fact that it mostly disappeared beneath her thighs. Even sitting sidesaddle was uncomfortable for her—she felt like she needed something with more girth to support her if she had any hope of getting off the ground.

Back on the ranch, they rode horses when they needed to round up cattle, and they seemed to work just fine. If the cows went too far out into the pastures, brooms were used, but that was a rare occasion. Horses didn’t make your thighs feel too big, and while they were fast, they never went too high. Falling off of one could still do some damage, but the prospect of falling off of a broom and plummeting to your death was even more horrifying.

Flying lessons, however, weren’t really an option. They were part of her grade, and she wasn’t about to let her classmates see her sweat at the start of their first term together. Jeweliah had given herself a lengthy pep talk before getting herself down to the pitch. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a high pony tail, and she opted for black yoga pants (as they were slimming) and a yellow t-shirt. Not exactly the most stylish apparel, but it didn’t clash terribly with her school robes and seemed appropriate for the lesson.

Jewels managed to give a bright and bubbly “Here!” when Coach Pierce called her name and was surprised by the sheer diversity of this year’s group. This was really the first time she got to see everyone since they were put into their houses, and some she wasn’t terribly surprised by. Once attendance was taken, and they were given their assignments, Jeweliah made her way to the brooms and picked the hardiest looking one she could find. Everyone seemed to pair off into groups, and she contemplated which one to join as she mounted her broom a bit shakily.

Malcom and Adam she knew from her house, if only by name and brief conversation, and they both seemed preoccupied. There was, however, a pair of boys she hadn’t met yet, so Jeweliah decided to go say hello. Flying a bit low and slow, the Pecari made her way over to them, hiding her discomfort behind a very well-rehearsed smile.

“Hey y’all!” She said cheerfully upon her arrival. “What d’ya think about this lesson? Easy as pie, huh?” Jewels commented in her slow southern drawl, and not a moment too soon. She wobbled a little on her broom and had to grab the handle with both hands as she steadied herself. She laughed nervously and cast her gaze toward the professor to see if she’d been watching. Jeweliah just had to fake through this a little longer, and mandatory flying lessons would be but a rather amusing memory.

0 Jeweliah Dyste Three's company 0 Jeweliah Dyste 0 5

Mal Carey

January 17, 2013 11:00 PM

Suspicion isn't very becoming, you know by Mal Carey

“How bad that is depends entirely on who you’re talking to,” Mal said, in the same agreeable tone. Most of his family, he knew, boys and girls alike, would much rather bruise their bodies than bruise their pride. Everything was about some kind of pride – pride in being Careys, pride in being wizards, pride in being blond-haired, for all he knew. He, personally, tried not to worry too much about it except when it was helpful. It could pay for a lot of other useful things, such as worming his way out of the worst trouble when he did get in some and keeping Mother doting on him.

She offered him pointers on how to make the broom go without it doing him an injury, and Mal classified her accordingly. Half-blood, most likely, but she had done him a favor. He could stop trying to annoy her, though he wouldn’t be surprised if he succeeded when he wasn’t trying.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” he said as he copied her gesture. He had a gift for mimicry, or he had always believed. “I’ve never jogged.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise when she knew his name, and he didn’t bother hiding it this time. “You’re quite forgiven,” he said when she apologized for not remembering where he was from as well. “As the Deputy Headmistress and I both failed to mention it. Malcolm Carey, North Carolina Careys.” He couldn’t help but watch, a thin and not entirely pleasant smile on his lips in the moment, for a reaction to that information. It was a close race, after all, between them and their more literal than usual cousins in Georgia for the most scandalous branch; at present, Mal thought Georgia was still winning, just since their old patriarch had evidently been spectacularly insane while everyone seemed to agree Father had just made it to gibbering and their heir seemed to have absolutely no interest in taking power away from his sister now that he was out of school, but it was always close. Things had a way of balancing each other out. Georgia’s patriarch, for instance, had been crazier, but before that, he’d just had a daughter run off with some Mudblood and get killed for it where Father had run off with an actual Muggle once and had lived.

Well, at least for a while. Everyone, after all, died sooner or later. Father's luck had lasted longer than most people's would have, though, so that was something the old man could feel proud of, if the dead truly did have a lingering consciousness. Mal, for his part, rather hoped that they didn't.

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, though,” he said. "I didn't pay as much attention during the roll call as you did. May I ask who you are?"

0 Mal Carey Suspicion isn't very becoming, you know 0 Mal Carey 0 5

Francesca Wolseithcrafte

January 18, 2013 12:22 PM

Oh, so you are holding things against me? by Francesca Wolseithcrafte

“True enough,” Francesca smiled, in response to his quip about pride being, potentially, of great value. He was consistent enough at responding in this way that it could not just be dumb luck, and she decided that 'mildy witty' was an appropriate accolade to award him. She wasn't going to go quite so far as to wonder why he wasn't in Aladren instead of Pecari but she would definitely acknowledge that he had a brain in his head.

“Nor have I,” she replied, when he stated that he had never jogged, her tone still light and neutral, “But I am still familiar enough with the general concept to estimate its approximate speed.” A lack of personal, direct experience implying that one would have a complete lack of knowledge on the subject... It was a fairly common mistake to make and a fallacy which came up time and time again in debating. She supposed that answered the question of his house placement.

“Ah, thank you,” she replied non-committally when he stated his branch affiliation. Had she been struck out of the blue with the information that he was a Carey, and a North Carolina one at that, she might have reacted differently, although she did tend to pride herself on her inability to be phased by things, and her ability to maintain a poker face on the rare occasions where she was. But she had known in advance which family he came from, which gave a one in five chance that he was from any particular branch of it, and a two in five chance that he was from one the insane, disreputable or whatever else you wanted to call them branches. Or made it a dead cert, if one was feeling catty and uncharitable to the Carey dynasty as a whole. From what she knew, backstabbing and insanity were the less desirable traits in the less desirable Carey branches. Whilst it would be worth keeping an eye on him for any such signs of treachery if their association continued beyond this encounter, she doubted he was about to immediately leap from his broom and inflict either of them upon her at that particular moment. “It would probably be taking formality a little far to answer the roll call in such a fashion,” she jested, smiling at his comment, “'Yes Miss, of the North Carolina branch,' is possibly overdoing things a little.”

She considered asking him how many of the different branches were represented throughout the school but she was worried that would make her seem ignorant. In society, most people judged your family's respectability by how many facts about theirs you had memorised; you were proper if you knew who else was proper. She preferred to reserve her brain for actual thinking. The Careys could, however, easily be researched further and she could answer her own question. She reasoned that the higher the number of different branches, the more diverse the views of the school Careys might be. It would be important to know, as certain links would or would not be implied by any Careys who were sympathetic to her view point.

“Francesca, of the Wolseithcrafte family.” Interesting that he had not noticed this during roll call, unless he was bluffing, presumably for politeness' sake. She supposed her name was so far beneath his, speaking strictly alphabetically, that his attention may have drifted by that point. Still, she thought her name was poisonous enough to shock most people back to their senses. If they knew it. Perhaps her name had not registered with him because his family had chosen to protect him from the knowledge that there were such dangerous, political people, who championed the right of girls to play Quidditch. She snuck a sidelong glance at him, trying to assess the effect of this announcement.

13 Francesca Wolseithcrafte Oh, so you are holding things against me? 250 Francesca Wolseithcrafte 0 5

Keme

January 18, 2013 11:43 PM

Or a crowd. by Keme

Keme had planned on spending the entire lesson flying on his own. He didn’t see anything wrong with this wish and didn’t think the Coach would mind so much just as long as he did it while on a broom. He did not find joy in this lesson like some of the other students seemed to and thus, did not see a point in interacting with them. But, he must have been alone in this thought since it wasn’t long into his solo ride when he was joined by another, presumably, first year. Keme’s dark eyes looked him over for a long moment as though deciding on whether or not to allow the other male to ride alongside him. Keme had no issue with the boy or anything, but he couldn’t figure out why he wanted to fly with him.

“I don’t mind.” Keme finally said. “I do not play Quidditch. I do not enjoy this.” He stated, indicating flying. Keme wasn’t against playing games per se. The children of his tribe often played traditional games whenever they had free time. He was one of the best archers of the tribe in his age group, although he still needed some practice with spear throwing. Him and his friends had gotten pretty good with Double ball and sticks. “We have less dramatic sports at home for us to play. Like hide and seek or ring toss.” Keme commented, looking back at the boys now playing catch.

Keme was about to introduce himself when a sudden arrival of a girl took him off guard, “Tsi ma kii to moh to toh pa!” He exclaimed mainly under his breath, slipping into his native tongue with ease. He had not been paying attention enough to notice she was coming their way. Her accent made it hard for him for a moment to figure out what she had said. “It’ll be an easy class.” Keme agreed, relaxing a little. At least they weren’t trying to make him play catch.

“I am Keme RunningBear of the Blackfoot tribe in Montana.” He introduced before looking to the two of them. He didn’t know them from the next person and really didn’t know much about his roommate. Eventually, he figured, things would be revealed to him and he would learn of his classmates, he just wished he wouldn’t have to social too much in order to get to that part.

OOC:’ Tsi ma kii to moh to toh pa’ means ‘where did you come from?’ in Blackfoot

0 Keme Or a crowd. 0 Keme 0 5

Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw

January 19, 2013 7:13 AM

Nah, that's four. We're definitely company. by Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw

“Yeah, it wouldn't be my first choice of ways to spend my time but I don't hate it either,” he explained, when the boy said he wasn't really into flying at all. Charlie wondered whether that was why he seemed so grumpy, or whether he was trying to really concentrate on what he was doing or something. Charlie had trouble understanding that being quiet and solitary was some people's default state and the way they felt most comfortable. To him, they were signs that someone was feeling blue. “Those sound like fun games. At home, we sometimes play tag.”

Charlie grinned as they were joined by a girl. He'd made the effort cos he thought this boy looked lonely but he generally found girls much easier to get along with. Plus he'd noticed she was really well dressed at the feast. She wasn't so much now so he didn't know whether she'd dressed up for the feast or dressed down for flying. Not that was crucial – he wasn't so shallow as to like someone just because of how they dressed – but it would be neat if he had someone who cared about that stuff to talk with. His companion seemed less enthusiastic, given that he was muttering under his breath (Charlie didn't catch what he said and wasn't entirely sure it had been English). For a second Charlie was worried that the guy was going to tell the girl that he didn't approve of her flying, but he seemed to get over it, so maybe she'd just made him jump.

“Yeah, not a bad way to start off the term,” he agreed with her assessment of the lesson's difficulty.

“Cool,” he grinned, when the other boy introduced himself. He had a really interesting name. “Hey, my last name has an animal in too,” he added, “I'm Charlie,” he said, not bothering to give the aforementioned last name as life was just too short to introduce himself with it. “What's your name?” he added to the girl.

13 Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw Nah, that's four. We're definitely company. 252 Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw 0 5

Omara Hernandez

January 20, 2013 1:10 PM

I hope you don't mind another joining you. by Omara Hernandez

Omara hadn't been sure whether to stay with the beginners or join the increasing numbers of students who were separating themselves from the group to fly without instruction. It wasn't that Omara couldn't fly - in fact, she adored to fly; nothing made her feel more free - but she had an inkling she would be judged about this at school.

Her father had always taken her out into a secluded spot to play and he had taught her how to fly. She'd always stayed within his boundaries but had longed to disappear up into the clouds. She would have been able to as well, because it had always come so naturally to her. Even using one of her dad's battered old brooms, she felt at one with the object and it had always seemed to obey her every whim without question.

She decided to be bold. "Up!" she commanded and the broom did shoot straight up into her hand. If she were honest with herself, she hadn't expected anything less - it was how it always had been - but was relieved, and also surprised to see several of her classmates who she assumed would excel at this lesson, struggling. She assumed everyone could do it. She assumed everyone would be better than her. She edged away from the beginner class and surveyed the situation. Her room mate, Jewels, looked perfectly steady on her broom to Omara but her face told a different story. Jewels always came across as extremely confident but to Omara it seemed, though she could be wrong, that she was way out of her comfort zone.

A dilemma presented itself before she mounted the school broom. Her father had said to her that some at school might expect her to ride sideways, legs together. On questioning him why, he had just replied that some considered it 'proper'. But the twinkle in her father's eye as he said this gave away that he didn't agree. He'd silently - and perhaps unknowingly - given Omara permission to ignore the convention and with a slightly mischievous thought, she mounted the broom and sat boldly astride it.

Omara kicked the ground firmly and took off. Her instinct was to fly up, up; people were always saying she had her head in the clouds. Without her dad here, this could be her first opportunity to see if it's true. She'd always wondered whether she'd feel at home there, up in the clouds... Reason kicked in, however. She doubted it would go down well if she were to disappear beyond sight in her first lesson, so she glided gracefully, taking a horizontal twirl with her broom; the rhythm of the air against her body flooded through her and it felt as though she and her broom were dancing...

And she landed, one foot slightly before the other, close to where Jewels was, chatting to a friendly-looking boy Omara had seen around school. "Hi Jewels, sorry, I don't really know anyone else, I hope you don't mind me joining you..." and, she swallowed her nerves to say to the boy, "Hi, my name's Omara. I've seen your face, I'm sorry to interrupt, I haven't really spoken to many people here yet...do you mind...?"

There was another boy standing in the group too but Omara had an odd feeling she shouldn't speak to him. She didn't know what it was about him and hoped it wouldn't be perceived as rude but his demeanor did not seem to invite informal introductions. So she didn't play along for the sake of propriety, just gave him a small nod of acknowledgement.

0 Omara Hernandez I hope you don't mind another joining you. 0 Omara Hernandez 0 5

Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus

January 20, 2013 4:39 PM

Side-Saddle is uncomfortable. by Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus

Thus far, Ginny had absolutely no complaints about Sonora. She didn’t know her roommates, but figured as time went on, she would, and Percival seemed like a nice enough boy. She knew her interactions at the feast probably wasn’t the most proper. After spending so much time at the community with all the other children, Ginny had sort of forgotten how to be more refined. Her mother would have a field day with her and the moment she returned home, she knew there was a possibility where she might have to endure etiquette classes again. But, since it was only with Percival and she didn’t think she acted too terribly, she felt she was safe. Still, she would have to be more careful with how she carried herself going forward.

Her first chance at this was with flying lessons. Her mother had tried to school her on paying attention to the names of her classmates, but it was hard to always remember which name was significant and which name wasn’t. She knew the name ‘Carey’ and she was pretty sure she had heard ‘Collins’ before as well. Wolseithcrafte rang a bell, but she couldn’t exactly remember why. If her mother tested her when she returned home for the holidays, Ginny would probably fail and then have to spend her entire vacation relearning all the important names. What a bore.

Standing around with the other first years, Ginny listened quietly as the Deputy Headmistress began the lesson. Ginny, being a girl, never rode a broom before. Never really cared to either. She was busy dancing, taking piano lessons, and vocal lessons. Her mother said that boys rode brooms and got dirty. Girls were meant to be pretty little flowers that you took extra care of. Not that Ginny didn’t go running around outside when her mother wasn’t paying attention, but that wasn’t something she was to talk about.

Ginny had heard about the Deputy Headmistress. She was disowned from her family or something like that. And she was unmarried and a spinster. Or so her mother says. There were other things said as well, but Ginny didn’t quite understand and therefore, allowed the information to pass through without giving it any thought. She called out ‘here’ when her name was called and then collected one of the school brooms when they were advised to.

She gave this broom a good long look as she thought about how to go about doing this. She was in a dress, so she would have to sit side-saddled. Ginny raised her hand and requested for the charms change and only began the lesson once the Coach and corrected it. Placing her hand above the broom, Ginny called ‘up’ in a delighted voice. The broom jumped, but not far up enough for her to grab it. Ginny sighed and tried again, still delighted because this was her first lesson and she was doing something her mother disproved of. Her second time managed a wobbling broom to hover to her hand. Taking it, Ginny sat side-saddled on it and then tried to attempt to hover.

This was very difficult to do as she felt off balance due to how she was sitting and nearly fell off because of it. Frowning, Ginny turned to someone beside her. “How do you do this? I’m never going to make it down the pitch without falling off.”

0 Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus Side-Saddle is uncomfortable. 0 Virginia Bellrose, Crotalus 0 5

Gemma Bennett, Teppenpaw

January 20, 2013 5:28 PM

Yes, it is. by Gemma Bennett, Teppenpaw

As she waited, feeling even smaller than usual against the vastness of the Quidditch Pitch, for flying lessons to begin, Gemma found she couldn’t stand still. Every time she caught herself rising on her toes, holding her arms a little away from her sides as though she were a bird about to take wing, and lowered herself back to the ground, she started looking around too much at the other students, and then was back up again in no time. Standing still just wasn’t working, but letting herself fidget all she wanted wasn’t an option, either. Finally, she decided on the compromise option of playing with the end of the single loose braid she had finally coaxed her curly chestnut hair into this morning, decreasing the chances of it holding together through the whole class even further.

She didn’t know what to think about these classes. On one hand, she was excited about them just because she was excited about everything at Sonora. On the other, she knew she wasn’t supposed to enjoy this because she was a lady and it was a boy thing, so she was really in a class that she was going to have to take all year and not enjoy, so that wasn’t good, either. On someone else’s hand, it was a good chance for getting to know other people in her year, she thought, where things couldn’t explode, but on their other hand, they could all fall off from a long way up….

Plus, there was Professor Coach Deputy Headmistress Pierce, who she wasn’t supposed to like at all personally. That was a problem, or would be if they ever had to interact one-on-one. A lot of the finer points of etiquette could elude her when she was trying to remember them in real life instead of acting them out with her dolls, so Gemma had latched onto the rule about being polite in general, which was only easy when everyone around her was someone she was by default allowed to talk to. School wasn’t like that. Right now, though, she wasn’t thinking much about that, just hoping for the best.

No disasters happened during the roll call or the little speech the coach gave them, though, and Gemma was relieved to hear that the total and near-total beginners like her were not going to have to get their shaky first lessons on getting off the ground while the experienced boys were whizzing around their heads at top speed, so she settled on being optimistic about this in general, at least for now. When she called her broom and it came to her without any complaints, she decided that had been a good idea.

Getting on her broom, though, proved to be a little more interesting. The first time she tried to get on it – sidesaddle, of course – she rocked back and forward for an almost terrifying moment before both her feet hit the ground again with a thump. She looked at the broom with an almost accusatory look in her blue eyes. She had good balance, she knew, from all the dance lessons and ballet lessons and posture lessons where she had to walk across a room with increasingly unsteady and fragile objects on her head, but her performance just then didn’t reflect that.

On the second try, she did get on, but still didn’t feel steady. Another girl distracted her from that by having the same problem, though. “I really don’t know,” Gemma admitted. “My sister did it in her first year, though, so I’m sure we’ll…figure it out somehow.” She had a feeling this was a weak assurance, but it was all she could come up with, and besides, it was almost surely true. "I'm Gemma," she added, realizing they didn't know each other's names, though Gemma thought this girl had answered the roll call about the same time she had. "Gemma Bennett. It's a pleasure to meet you...even under the circumstances."

0 Gemma Bennett, Teppenpaw Yes, it is. 251 Gemma Bennett, Teppenpaw 0 5

Jeweliah Dyste

January 20, 2013 5:48 PM

I don't mind at all! by Jeweliah Dyste

“Huh?” Jeweliah must have interrupted something. She’d been taught not to, but some of those finer details seemed to blur a little around kids her age. She had no idea what the Aladren boy had said, as it was clearly a different language. She’d heard a bit of Spanish; being as close to Mexico as they were, it was nearly impossible not to—but though his skin was an appropriate color, he was definitely not speaking Spanish.

She didn’t have to wonder where he was from for long as he introduced himself as being of the Blackfoot Tribe, making him a Native American. She also thought he had a fun last name. She couldn’t help but wonder what Charlie’s was, since his had an animal in it as well apparently. She couldn’t remember from the sorting.

“Oooh, I like your name.” She said, smiling at Keme. She didn’t know much about Native Americans, in general, let alone is tribe, but she assumed his name meant something more than what was on the surface. She knew Native’s had a belief that everything had a spirit, or at least that’s what she’d heard in stories. Either way, she decided to ask.

“Your last name, is there a story behind it?” She asked, before turning her attention briefly to Charlie. He was definitely shinier than Keme, but she was also under the impression that most Aladren students were kind of reserved, and maybe that was the case here.

“Which animal, Charlie?” Jewels asked, before realizing she’d been too wrapped up in her own questions to actually answer. “Oh crumb, sorry, I’m Jeweliah, Jeweliah Dyste. You can call me Jewels though.” As soon as her name left her mouth, she heard it from someone behind her, and clumsily turned to see her roommate joining them as well. She recovered, and even steadied herself well enough to wave slightly to Omara.

“No worries at all! The more the merrier.” Jewels said brightly, smiling as Omara joined them. “This is Keme, and Charlie. Omara is my roommate.”

0 Jeweliah Dyste I don't mind at all! 0 Jeweliah Dyste 0 5

Mal Carey

January 20, 2013 6:36 PM

Just making an observation by Mal Carey

“Good for you,” Mal said, also agreeably, when the girl said she knew about the approximate speed of a jog.

Beneath the tone, he was beginning to feel a little irritated – with her superior tone there, with his own deficiencies, with his mother for being the cause, he was sure, of most of them – but he had expected to end up feeling that way during flying lessons, and to have to deal with that. He had grown up surrounded by women, and Mother, the one who had the most day-to-day control over him, had not been considering his social life compared to other males when she decided he, unlike his sister, couldn’t even go outside unsupervised, much less engage in any activities she thought were dangerous. He had heard her arguing about it with his stepmother more than once, but in the end, Stepmother hadn’t been able to overrule her, Morgaine and Thomas and Anthony IV had never seemed to even notice, and so things had stayed the same.

Mal took her non-reaction to his branch and family as a reaction, but laughed at the quip about responding to the coach with his full designation. “I would guess so,” he said. “Especially since I can’t imagine she possibly cares.”

That was as close as he wished to come to acknowledging the teacher’s…social problems. Mal was not afraid of disowned people the way his sister was – logic said they were not likely to want to cause themselves more problems by attacking him in public unless they were paid an awful lot of money to do it, and he thought a teacher was probably safe enough from that kind of thing, or at least smart enough to skip the ‘in public’ part – but he recognized that a certain amount of cognitive dissonance was necessary when dealing with one who was in a position of authority over him, and didn’t want to think about it more than he had to. It was simpler that way, and while normally he enjoyed thinking on the contradictions of life, he didn’t want to put that much energy into it when he needed to be concentrating on not falling and, at the very least, making a fool of himself. Pride was expendable, but he did like to keep some in his pocket when he could.

“That’s a lovely name,” he said noncommittally when she told him who she was, even though he really thought it was much too long. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with your family, that I can remember – there are so many to learn, after all.” His mother would have added a ‘these days,’ but he thought it was more diplomatic to leave that out. “Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?” If he had heard and somehow forgotten something, putting her on a map would, he was sure, help him remember, if only because of the likely connections to other families in the same area. Most weren’t like his family, which had intermarried with most of the region at one place or another and had the impossible tangle of the Georgia and North Carolina branches to consider at at least three points, but they did tend to have some kind of relationship to surrounding families, he thought.

0 Mal Carey Just making an observation 0 Mal Carey 0 5

Rajid Ambrose

January 20, 2013 7:05 PM

Riding solo by Rajid Ambrose

Any male from a proper pureblooded family would have known how to fly by age eleven, if not well before. At least that was the Ambrose way of doing things. Rajid couldn’t help but find this class a little superfluous, but seeing as there were families at Sonora who were of mixed blood, and others who were less fortunate than himself and likely couldn’t afford their own brooms; he wasn’t entirely surprised that this was a required course. Then again, there were also the girls to take into consideration. His sisters weren’t allowed to fly at home, though he secretly believed that Lelia knew how. She didn’t like most of the rules imposed upon her, but followed them begrudgingly.

As the first years took to their brooms, he couldn’t help but notice they seemed to separate into groups. Rajid was kind of surprised that Keme had attracted quite the flock and decided to keep his distance. He didn’t feel like throwing a ball around, and he wasn’t sure he had any tips for the girls who were trying to stay on their brooms, let alone stay in the air. He made note of them, however, for if they were pure blooded, they’d likely be in contention for future betrothal. That wasn’t something he wanted to think about—he was only eleven and had years before he’d actually marry, but his father had planted the seed. His father’s plan was for his son to start impressing girls at an early age so that his name was circulated among the more influential families. Rajid hated the idea.

Instead, the Ambrose boy kicked off and decided to go for a lap around the pitch to get his mind off of his short comings.

0 Rajid Ambrose Riding solo 0 Rajid Ambrose 0 5

Keme

January 21, 2013 1:38 AM

...I apparently don't matter. by Keme

Keme nodded at Charlie’s statement but didn’t say anything to add to the conversation. They played tag sometimes too, but he was now a little too old for it. It was usually played between the younger children of the tribe.

He realized that he slipped into Blackfoot only when the girl seemed to be confused. “Pardon me, you startled me.” He said, tipping his head to her in an apology. The children grew up speaking both languages that they often slipped from one to the other without much thought. In moments where he wasn’t paying attention, Keme would likely do that. It was something he would have to work on going forward.

Keme wasn’t sure about this boy. He felt if he was going to make a connection between their names that he should at least offer to them him what animal it was in his name. The girl distracted him from this train of thought by asking about his name. Keme, who loved his tribe, perked up and even smiled. “Oh yes. My ancestors were given this name because the tribe had once been threatened by a rampaging bear. My ancestors saved the villagers by chasing it off. The chief honored them by giving them this surname.” He didn’t know if she actually cared, but since she was the first to ask about it, he wanted to tell her.

Apparently, the girl also wanted to know what sort of animal was in Charlie’s name and asked, but just as suddenly, she was introducing herself. But their small conversation was, yet again, interrupted. Keme didn’t know why this was his sudden luck.

There was suddenly yet another girl who joined them and Keme had to wonder how it was that all he wanted to do was fly alone that he ended up with three people trailing him? Plus, this newest girl didn’t even direct any of her communication his way. She was either blind or extremely rude. And, since she could see Charlie and Jeweliah just fine, he could only assume she was not blind. The fact of the matter was that Keme was the one everyone was intruding upon and he did mind, especially when they aren’t even considering his feelings. He saw Rajid flying solo and shot him a glare. While he glared after his roommate, Jeweliah introduced them to the new arrival. Keme, already feel affronted by the girl, said nothing.

He still couldn’t understand how it was that he had ended up with all these people. And they were social people. He didn’t know how to do social. This was going to be a long lesson.

0 Keme ...I apparently don't matter. 0 Keme 0 5

Charlie B-F-R

January 21, 2013 7:23 AM

Of course you do! You have a following! by Charlie B-F-R

“That's pretty, like precious Jewels,” Charlie grinned. It was a fairly obvious word association and one she'd probably heard before but he thought it suited her. She was all blonde bombshelly (albeit a bombshell currently in yoga pants) and bubbly.

“Hi,” he smiled, as they were joined by another girl, Jewels' roommate. “That's a nice name too,” he smiled, hoping she didn't think he was just saying it cos he'd said it to Jewels. Omara was a pretty name. He liked the way it rolled around inside his head.

“My surname has 'Fox' in it – it's Boxton-Fox-Reynolds,” he explained to Jewels. “But it's not got a cool reason, like Keme's – that's really neat by the way,” he added to the other boy. He'd seen that Keme had perked up a bit when talking about home. He was pleased to see the change for the better in the other boy's expression, and wondered whether he was maybe feeling a bit homesick. “I just have more than the average number of names cos I have more than the average number of parents and that part's my Dad's name.” Well, technically his Dad's name was Fox-Reynolds but the Fox part came from him and had been his name before he'd married Father, so what he said, whilst not literally true any more, was the best way of explaining things in short hand. He guessed his name did have something of a story behind it after all.

Noticing that Keme seemed to have slipped back into being sullen, Charlie wondered what he could do to cheer him back up. He had seemed to get a little bit brighter when talking about home, so perhaps – even if he was feeling homesick – he'd feel better if he got to tell them more.

“So, where are you from?” he asked the girls, “You said Montana, right?” he added to Keme, “Your tribe sounds like it has really neat traditions,” he smiled, “I guess it's pretty different from things here, huh?” he invited.

13 Charlie B-F-R Of course you do! You have a following! 252 Charlie B-F-R 0 5

Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren

January 21, 2013 8:31 AM

Are you sure you're not supposed to be in Aladren? by Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren

'Good for you.' The bitter cry of someone who knows they've nothing to come back with and is irritated by that. Whilst Francesca liked winning, especially in debates, she felt a little bit rueful that she might be annoying Malcolm. Even though he would probably be alienated once he found out about her politics, there was no sense in turning him against her before then. Especially as most of the things she thought about him so far weren't negative. She resolved to not point out his stupidity unless it was absolutely necessary, and only hoped for her own sanity that that was the only slip up he made this lesson. The prognosis on that was good. After all, he'd seemed relatively intelligent up until that point.

She smiled as he seemed to enjoy her little quip about the roll call, relieved that things had returned to jovial air that had previously been the predominant mood of their encounter. She wondered whether it was true that the coach didn't care. She was very unlikely to be able to lure Purebloods over to her side so in that sense it was probably true – but perhaps she wanted to know her enemy. If none of them cared about WAIL and being all “proper” and riding side saddle, then she could assume she'd won and pack up shop. She rather suspected the coach kept a very close eye on Purebloods during the flying lessons but Francesca kept this notion to herself.

“Thank you,” she said, trying to sound genuine and not as thoroughly suspicious as she felt at his compliment. It was relatively easy to fake as she liked her own name. She took pride in it. Even to those who had not heard of her family, she felt it struck the right note. It sounded old. If he had heard of her, he was clearly being sarcastic. Whilst making one's points with subtlety was something she admired, if it was beyond the perceptive skills of someone acute, such as herself, then it was not subtlety but failing to communicate effectively. Therefore, if he was trying to be sarcastic, he had failed. If he genuinely had not heard of her, she doubted his appreciation of her name would last once he had looked it up. “We are from Chicago,” she informed him.

“As we approach the corner, I suggest we bear right, otherwise we will be doing a very tight U-turn,” she added, as the neared the end of the side of the pitch which they had been flying along. Turning right also meant she was on the outside, which she had deliberately chosen. If Malcolm Carey under-steered, she could get out of his way easily enough. If he over-steered, he would take himself further away from her. “You want to sit back slightly to slow a little going into it, and look round at where you want to go. That will naturally cause you to bring your broom around. You can lean into bends if you wish – it helps maintain your speed and make it smooth but is not necessary to complete a corner successfully,” assuming that success meant moving oneself to face the desired new direction, rather than accomplishing the movement in the most efficient manner. As this was a beginner's lesson, she felt the former was an acceptable definition to be working under. “At this sort of speed, a twenty-two-point-five degree angle is the maximum that is safe without risking overbalancing – that is, half way to the point where you would be leaning out sideways from your broom,” she added. It was sometimes hard to envisage angles and do mathematics when concentrating on other things, and she had just given Malcolm an awful lot of information on a subject with which he was not familiar. Hopefully she had given him sufficient detail but not so much as to overwhelm him, although she prepared herself to shout 'Sit up/lean back – BRAKE!' if it looked like he was going to under-steer to such a massive degree as to take himself headlong into the stands.

OOC – and, if he does do that, feel free to mention her screaming said instructions at him.

13 Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren Are you sure you're not supposed to be in Aladren? 250 Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren 0 5

William Casey

January 21, 2013 10:05 PM

Open to another? by William Casey

Will headed down to the pitch for his mandatory flying lesson. It was a tad annoying seeing as he already knew to fly, but he was happy to just have the opportunity to fly again. He shouldered his new broom and stood in line with the rest of his classmates. His parents had bought it for him as a birthday present, and although it wasn't top of the line, it already held some sentimental value for Will.

He answered when his name was called and listened, slightly bored as the instructor went through some basic instructions. He then split away from the new flyers and took a moment to take in the pitch. 'It's a grand stadium,' he thought to himself, gazing over the perfect field. He noted the high rising stands and the towering, gleaming goalposts.

Done ogling, he mounted his broom and kicked off. The familiar sense of liberty fell upon him and he smiled as the ginger hair that had fallen out of his pony tail, flew out of his face. He took a warm-up lap before looking around at the others. They were mostly just messing around, and he started over towards a pair of boys who looked like they were having fun tossing the quaffle around. "Mind if I join?" Will asked the to other fliers," the name's Will, Will Casey."

0 William Casey Open to another? 0 William Casey 0 5

Julian Umland, Teppenpaw

January 24, 2013 2:34 PM

I'm not really off to a stellar start. by Julian Umland, Teppenpaw

At the last minute, just shy of being late, Julian hurried across the Quidditch Pitch toward her classmates, stumbling twice over small imperfections in the turf as she tried to move as fast as she could without breaking into a completely undignified, stupid-looking run. In spite of this effort, she was still breathless and flushed by the time she got to the rest of the group and tried to join the back of it as inconspicuously as possible, with bits of her dark brown hair coming out of her ponytail and a little dirt collected on the hems of her pants. She had taken a wrong turn on her way to the Pitch somewhere, she thought, around the front door, and had only just realized her mistake and figured out the right way in the nick of time, but she didn’t see how she could tell the coach that and so stood still instead, her face burning with embarrassment more than exertion as the speech began, mortified to think she had already probably made a bad impression on a teacher.

When her name was called off the roll, she replied, forcing herself to do it in a regular voice instead of a whisper. Hiding wouldn’t really help anything after her very visible entrance, and she had the rest of the year to make up for this one near-miss with the time. She would, she resolved, be early to every single one of these classes from now on, because that was really the only way she expected to ever be able to impress the flying coach. Julian enjoyed watching broom sports as much as anyone, but athleticism wasn’t one of her outstanding traits as an individual.

She listened closely, her cheeks still red, as they were given all their directions, then looked at the broom lying by her feet. The only one she had ever been on (rarely, with three wizard brothers who liked it much more than she did anyway) was the very old one at home, and this one looked a little more recent than that, but she thought it shouldn’t be too much different as long as she was sensible and didn’t decide she wanted to be the fanciest flier in first year. If she did that, she was sure she could rack up an impressive collection of broken bones even on the old broom at home, which was why she wasn’t planning to do it. Slow and steady, to quote the old Muggle saying, won the race, at least if she defined the race the way she wanted to. Mom always said the first thing to do in any situation was to define her terms….

“Up!” she exclaimed, holding her hand over the broom, and it rose almost leisurely into her hand, making Julian flush again, but this time with success. Feeling a little encouraged, she got on the broom, kicked off from the ground, and held onto it with both hands as she maintained a hover.

So far, so good, she thought. She wasn't going to win any races, but she could stay on the broom and pass the class. And she was going to arrive to every single class early, and maybe use that special room she had heard about to practice some so she could get better and not make as much of a fool of herself. It was going to be okay. She was going to get it all right.

She was still thinking about that when someone spoke near her and, between starting and turning her head at almost the same time, she almost fell off.

16 Julian Umland, Teppenpaw I'm not really off to a stellar start. 254 Julian Umland, Teppenpaw 0 5

Ginny

January 24, 2013 7:50 PM

Silly ladies being difficult. by Ginny

Ginny looked up from her broom handle to find another girl who seemed to be having the same side-saddle issue as her. Really, people had to have the best balance to be able to sit on a small stick for an entire class period all year long and not fall off while moving. She did ballet, so she knew her balance was just fine, she just needed to find her equilibrium of her butt to broom while moving. It must be possible to do. This was how the ladies were supposed to ride and she could have sworn that this was what it was like centuries ago with their poufy robes. She could totally do this.

“Hi Gemma! I’m Ginn-er-Virginia Bellrose.” Ginny corrected herself. She wasn’t supposed to be improper. She told herself that she was going to present herself accordingly beginning with the lesson and she was already goofing up. She tsked herself mentally before giving Gemma a smile, “But you may call me Ginny, if you wish.” She knew that after spending the last couple of years outside of normal etiquette lessons and being around those who her parents deemed ‘worthy’ of their time had definitely cost her any social skills. She could only hope that as the year went on, she remembered her manners and all of her lessons that she had to go through for so many years.

“I do not think sitting like this makes flying any more lady like.” Ginny commented lightly as she tried to steady herself again. “I’m going to end up on the ground completely exposed. How embarrassing would that be?” Ginny question, although she looked rather amused at the idea. Although Ginny wore dresses, did her hair all nice and neat, and was an all around girly-girl, she was not unknown to bumps and bruises. Ginny was an only child and often had to find ways to entertain herself. Usually, that meant exploring outside and getting into a mess of things. So, the idea of falling didn’t bother her. The idea of everyone laughing at her because she had fallen did.

Having nearly fallen again, Ginny stopped trying to move for the moment. “Maybe I should stick to learning one thing at a time.” She mused. “First, learn to balance yourself on the broom. Once that is mastered, then you learn to move the broom.” Ginny said, instructing herself as though she were a small child. “Once we have that, we’ll be complete pros at riding brooms, even if it’s by side-saddle.” Ginny stated to Gemma. Ginny was still sure she might have preferred the other way of riding, but didn’t think that was the most lady-like thing to say to another girl, so she kept it to herself.

0 Ginny Silly ladies being difficult. 0 Ginny 0 5

Jude Butler

January 24, 2013 10:22 PM

You're off to a better one than me! by Jude Butler

Jude saw the note about Flying Class and she swallowed her saliva. “Flying?” she said softly, gulping up her air and feeling about half an inch tall. Her cheeks reddened again as bright as flames as she walked out to the Pitch. She'd left with plenty of time to get to the class on time, and had beat most of the others there for her own slight fear of being late. Coach Pierce looked like she would start talking and another one of the first years ran up beside her. Yes, Jude had been one of the first few there, but that didn't mean that she wanted to be in the front by any means! The other girl looked as if she'd taken a few spills on her way there and Jude wanted to ask if she was okay, but Coach started talking.

She welcomed them to flying lessons and introduced herself. The way the class would work was explained and Jude listened as best as she could without understanding much of it. Are pitch laps like running laps on the track? she thought to herself and wondered if there would be someone she could ask about it when they were ready to start.

Roll call started and when Jude heard her name called, she raised her hand. “Here!” she said. The girl that had been standing next to her replied to the name Julian Umland and Jude looked at her and smiled. Maybe she could be a friend? Jude thought as Coach said they should take a broom if they didn't have one of their own. She didn't, so she took one from Coach and went back to stand next to Julian.

She followed directions and put her broom on the ground beside her, underneath her right hand. Jude listened to what they were supposed to do and watched as Coach did it in front of them. Jude watched as the broom shot up into her hand and Jude slipped over her broom handle beside her foot and landed next to it. Her face turned a brighter shade of red than Grandma Carol's house had turned and she hid her head in her hands right there on the grass. Still she listened to what she was supposed to do from down on the ground so that she knew what she was supposed to be doing even though she didn't understand it.

She heard Julian say up, and she peeked her eye through a hole between two of her fingers and saw Julian's broom rise into her hand. Jude stood up from the ground and held her hand over the broom handle that had tripped her up. “Up...” she said softly. It didn't move.

Julian got onto her broom and rose up into the air a little bit. Jude's mouth opened wide, then closed, thinking.

“Uhm... How did you get that to work?” Jude asked Julian.

0 Jude Butler You're off to a better one than me! 0 Jude Butler 0 5

Gemma

January 24, 2013 10:53 PM

We do make things harder for each other sometimes by Gemma

Gemma considered the other girl’s introduction. “Do you like to be called Ginny?” she asked, suspecting the answer was yes after Miss Bellrose had started to introduce herself that way, but feeling vaguely sure she should be sure before she took the permission she had been offered. “I think it suits you – but I’m just me.” Gemma was used to her opinions not seeming very relevant at home and didn’t expect anything to change here.

She did think Ginny went better with Bellrose than Virginia did, though. Virginia Bellrose was a name like Gemma’s own, the first name and the last name didn’t quite balance in her ears. She, though, didn’t really have a nickname she could use, at least not which would make her name balance any better. She was glad for Ginny, if she did like to be called Ginny, because her name could be reworked in a way that worked a little better than her full first and last name really did when she used them both. Virginia was a pretty name, she thought, but the V was too wide to go with her last name.

“That would be awful,” she agreed when Ginny mentioned the possibility of their clothes not doing what clothes were supposed to do if they fell. “Maybe it’s supposed to be more ladylike because you can’t move very fast even if you do figure out how to get on and not fall?”

She tried getting on herself again, holding on with both hands so her torso was twisted uncomfortably around but she wasn’t at immediate risk of falling. At least not as long as her arms and back could hold onto this position. She didn’t think that was going to be a good long-term strategy, especially not when she had to fly all the way around the Pitch later on in the class. The Pitch was…big. She wasn’t big, and as she had just mentioned to Ginny, they couldn’t move fast riding these things sidewise while wearing skirts. She didn’t even really think she would be able to go very fast without being sick if she rode the broom the other way, but if they could make it stay even and not tilt so they slid off, the boys definitely did have an advantage here.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Gemma agreed when Ginny proposed trying to balance, then trying to fly. Gemma had no objections to postponing the part where they tried moving and came off again for a little longer, since chatting was much more pleasant than falling or feeling like she was about to fall at any moment. She laughed at the idea of becoming a broom-riding pro. “Oh, that would be nice,” she said. “At least one of our classes would be easy for the rest of the year.” She was excited about learning magic, but a little nervous about that, too. That seemed to be the theme of her first year so far, she thought, but she thought it was probably the same for lots of the others, too, so she didn't feel bad about it.

0 Gemma We do make things harder for each other sometimes 0 Gemma 0 5

Mal Carey, Pecari

January 24, 2013 11:22 PM

It's certainly where I expected to be by Mal Carey, Pecari

Mal nodded when Francesca said she was from Chicago. It had, after all, been one of the three most likely places she could be from; he didn’t quite understand why Chicago and New York had both become such large magical towns when they were so far apart and California, the third, was so far from them both, but they were what they were. “Chicago,” he repeated. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of ever visiting it, but I’ve heard it’s a very interesting place.”

More interesting, anyway, than North Carolina, which he suspected would have been completely overlooked by almost everyone if his branch had not been so very scandalous there for the past two centuries. He thought the state might have had more of a variety of families anyway, though, if Virginia had not been right on top of them; they were not a very aggressive group, according to the family histories he’d had to learn, just badly behaved sometimes, but they were right next to the largest branch. It loomed over them, threatening them into staying within the lines, promising to take their children away if they ever misbehaved too much until his father had come along and left even more chaos than usual in his wake, not to mention a few dead people who’d made the Aurors stick their noses in where they had no right to be. Now, Mother assured him, they would take him away and make his life even more unpleasant than she did if any of the few of them left ever misbehaved at all. She seemed to think this would make the prospect of behaving badly less appealing instead of more.

Not that he would ever do anything, of course – well, at least not that he thought he might be caught doing – but the more she warned him away from it, the more appealing it did sound sometimes. It wasn’t smart, but feelings usually weren’t. That was why he found them more annoying than useful to have.

Francesca offered Mal a lot of information about how to manipulate a broom around the curve of the Pitch, which he listened to, then hesitated for a moment as he thought through. Then he followed her directions, minus the one about angles and degrees, and watched her closely to see exactly how she was doing it. He didn’t take the curve perfectly, since they weren’t exactly the same size and mimicry could only go so far under those conditions, but he didn’t crash into her or the stands or anything else, either, so he was prepared to call that a success for the first day of lessons.

“You do this very well,” he said, thinking it was only appropriate to acknowledge the person whose success was the reason for his. “I have to admit, I’m not sure why you’re with the beginners, Miss Wolseithcrafte.” Her name did sound familiar for some reason he couldn’t place – probably a pin on his map, he felt like her name should be linked to a shade of teal and that could have been why, but he wasn't sure – so he was going to remain properly polite until he was sure what he was dealing with, anyway.

0 Mal Carey, Pecari It's certainly where I expected to be 0 Mal Carey, Pecari 0 5

Julian U.

January 25, 2013 1:34 PM

I'm sure you'll catch me soon. by Julian U.

Julian was just about to decide she might have a steady seat on her broom when another girl spoke to her and she wobbled as she turned, not thinking of her balance, to look at her. “Oh!” she gasped, adjusting her grip to steady herself up again on the narrow length of wood.

“Sorry,” she added to the other girl, feeling mixed up and like she was somehow embarrassing herself without knowing exactly what it was she was doing for the second time in as many days. At least this time, she thought she only had an audience of one, where she had had two to deal with when she’d done it front of her roommates. “I actually have no idea what I’m doing, I’m just…sort of doing it and hoping nothing goes wrong. I’m sorry.” She felt like finishing the sentence and explaining exactly what she was sorry for, that she wasn’t able to provide better advice, but thought at the same time it would make her run out of breath, so she didn’t.

She looked back at the broom in disgust as she straightened her posture a little, so she wasn’t quite so close to being huddled over it in her five foot hover, which was making her worry about accidentally falling on the other girl’s head when she tried to move. “This is so pathetic,” she said. “My little brothers would never let me live this down if they saw me.” Even Paul might enjoy the joke at her expense, even though he didn’t really ride brooms either. Technically, Julian supposed a Squib could get on one and use the Power of Physics to make it move where he wanted it to go, but Paul still, as far as she knew, joined her in preferring bicycles.

Thinking of bicycles and brooms at home reminded her of the sharing rules, which reminded her of her manners. She smiled down at the still earthbound girl – a Pecari, she thought, by the badge, just based on colors, since Julian knew she wasn’t another first year Teppenpaw, which was the next-nearest fit. “We haven’t met before. I’m Julian,” she introduced herself. “I’m so sorry in advance if I fall off this thing and land on your head.”

That, she thought she might write home about. It was just one of those introductions she didn’t think anyone ever really expected to have to use.

16 Julian U. I'm sure you'll catch me soon. 254 Julian U. 0 5

Omara Hernandez, Pecari

January 25, 2013 1:50 PM

Regret by Omara Hernandez, Pecari

Omara immediately regretted not speaking to the quiet boy. It seemed to make him even more unapproachable - understandable really given the circumstances - but still. There was something about him that was so different, or so it seemed to her. It seemed like he was both there, and not there, at the same time.

Charlie however, seemed open and perky and Jewels of course, who Omara already knew, always seemed happy to talk. Perhaps Omara shouldn't have worried too much about going over to talk. But then, she knew she always worried too much about everything.

"Thank you," she said to Charlie when he commented on her name, "it's Cuban, but I love Jewels' name," she said to both Charlie and Jewels, kinking her head towards the latter, "it's so, so, spingly and sparkly."

Her attention again was drawn to the quiet boy. She had heard his name was Keme, which sounded to Omara so wild and free. "I'm sorry I didn't say hi, Keme, I'm just so hopeless in social situations; just ask Jewels, I'm sure she's noticed it already..."

0 Omara Hernandez, Pecari Regret 0 Omara Hernandez, Pecari 0 5

Jude

January 25, 2013 2:43 PM

I'm not so sure about that... by Jude

Jude was at a loss. She had no idea what she was supposed to be doing really. Of course, she'd listened to the directions, but it wasn't working for her and the eleven year old was starting to wonder if she really was supposed to be here after all. Yes, she'd turned brown as a Pecari would, but maybe that was all of the magic she possessed??

When the other girl gasped and apologized to her, telling her she really had no idea how she did what she did, Jude became even more scared. The other girl spoke about how pathetic this was and Jude hoped she wasn't talking about her! Jude however, felt absolutely pathetic to go along with whatever the girl was talking about.

The girl introduced herself as Julian and apologized in advance if she fell and landed on Jude. “It's okay, and I'm Jude. Jude Butler...” she said, wishing that something would work to her advantage one of these days...

Between her klutzi-ness and not knowing anything, Jude felt like she was a huge let down and had failed her parents and older siblings, but worse, she felt like she'd failed Luca. He was the last one she wanted to fail. Just as she looked up to the others, Luca looked up to her and Jude wasn't about to fail him.

I have to figure this all out, I HAVE TO! For Luca! she thought, wondering if perhaps Julian would come down and show her what she'd done. Maybe that would help Jude to get it right?

“Uhm... Julian?” she asked, “Would you mind coming back down and showing me again what you just did? Even if you don't do it the same?”

0 Jude I'm not so sure about that... 0 Jude 0 5

Analea Thornton

January 26, 2013 12:19 PM

I have to be confident? by Analea Thornton

Analea hadn't said much through classes as of yet, except to her sisters or Rory. The eleven year old was really self-conscious about her lisp and really tried to make it a point to keep quiet. She knew that she had no choice but to go to her classes, but she didn't have to say anything unless she was called upon by the teacher. Ana hoped that none of the teachers would just yet, until she was able to feel out the rest of the students thoughts on her lisp as she had Rory's from the first time they met.

Ana had flown before, she wasn't very good at it, but she'd been able to get her sister's broom to rise up into her hand and mount it to a short hover before she'd fallen down into a briar bush. She'd done a step better than Clara, but not by a whole lot. The briars had scratched her face up pretty badly when she'd first tried, and hadn't tried again since. So the fact that this day was the first flying class, she was quite nervous. At least Rory would be with her! Rory was really her first friend ever with the exception of her sisters, and she felt comfortable with her. That was saying something because the only time Ana had felt comfortable other than with her family was when she was in her own little fairy-tale land.

Analea hoped beyond a shadow of a doubt that Rory would stay her friend all through school and beyond. Standing not far from Rory, as usual (well, it was silly for them to leave their room at the same time and NOT walk together), she listened as Coach Pierce welcomed them and explained what they were to be doing. There was no way that Ana was going to be going off with the more experienced flyers. None whatsoever.

So Ana didn't pay much attention to what Coach said to the flyers, instead, she looked around at the others. She was trying to test out the waters without speaking until she heard the words roll call. She swallowed her saliva and hoped that just raising her hand would be okay, but when the others started to say things like 'here' or 'present' her eyes widened and she looked to Rory. Oh she's gonna make me say something... she thought, glancing back down at her feet as her name was called.

“Here...” she said, just above a whisper as her hands shook with fear that someone would be able to hear her lisp even though there weren't any lispy letters in that word. The roll call having finally finished, Ana looked towards the Coach as she said there were brooms for them as she sent the flyers away. Analea wasn't sure if Rory knew how to fly or not, but if she did she'd be leaving her... If not, maybe she'd still stay. Ana didn't know which it would be.

Ana's attention turned back to the Coach and she hadn't seen right away if Rory had stayed or had gone off, but the mention of Quidditch made her cringe. She wasn't good enough for that, she knew that for sure. She picked up a broom from the pile and set it under her right hand on the ground. This was the worst part, having to command the broom to do anything with her voice was something she'd feared. She had to be confident when she said the word, and she was pretty sure that couldn't and wouldn't happen...

Coach's broom lept into her hand and she told them to keep trying if it didn't work right away and that they should begin. This was the first time Analea looked back up to see who was standing next to her...

0 Analea Thornton I have to be confident? 0 Analea Thornton 0 5

Ginny

January 27, 2013 9:32 PM

We should learn not to do that. by Ginny

“Yes, I do.” Ginny commented with a smile. “And thank you. I’m only ever called Virginia around relatives or if my parents are trying to get my attention.” Ginny stated only realizing after that she probably shouldn’t make it sound as though she didn’t listen when her parents were talking. “Virginia is a pretty name, but it seems more like an older person’s name and not, you know, mine. I do like Gemma though. It seems different. Is your sister’s name equally fun?” Since Ginny didn’t have siblings, she couldn’t really offer much beyond that. The other children at the community though, some of them had fun names. She was told that most parents named their children names that represent elements. There was Fintan and Ardea, both fire names, or Talise and Dover, water names, or Keanu and Ora, both air names. Ginny loved it. But since she could not talk about the Community, she could not offer these very different and fun names to Gemma.

Ginny took some consideration into what Gemma said. From her lessons, Ginny understood that ladies were never to be on a broom unless absolutely necessary, which Ginny didn’t see when it was ever necessary. Adults apparated or used the floo and Ginny had no reason to travel on a broom by herself. And, if a lady had to sit side-saddled this way to travel, what was the point? It would take forever just to get to where they were going this way. “It’s ladylike to move slowly on a broom?” Ginny asked, making sure she understood what Gemma was saying. “I can’t imagine males finding it all that impressive. Wouldn’t that be an irritation to them? Especially if they actually have to get somewhere?” She wasn’t really asking these questions, just thinking out loud. Her parents hated it when she questioned things.

Ginny giggled, she did that when she was over excited but also when she was nervous. She liked Gemma. She didn’t seem judgmental about the little things that Ginny accidentally let slip nor did she seem too arrogant to have fun with a lesson that was otherwise not.

Having thought things out had made Ginny pay less attention to what she was doing and nearly slipped off the broom. “Whoops.” She said, blushing a bit at her misstep as she pulled herself back up again. She felt like she was trying to push herself onto a floaty in a pool. She lowered herself down to the ground (as gracefully as she could figure it out to be) and then slipped off of it to stand up. “Round two.” She commented, taking a deep breath. She turned around so that the broom was behind her and then eased herself back onto it. “You know, if the handle was just a little bit wider, this would be so much easier to ride side-saddle.”

0 Ginny We should learn not to do that. 0 Ginny 0 5

Julian U.

January 28, 2013 5:30 PM

Just try your best. by Julian U.

She immediately felt horrible for doing it, but Julian giggled when the other girl said her name was Jude. Another girl with a usually male name was not one of the things Julian had expected to encounter at school. Maybe anything really could happen at Sonora Academy.

“I’m sorry – it’s just I didn’t expect to have name company, and now I have two,” she said, having gathered there was another Julian, a boy one, in her House, too. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Julian focused on staying steady and keeping up with where other people were, so she wouldn’t fly into them. She wasn’t sure why she felt so incompetent now, since she had grown up in a magical family and could at least get the broom to go where she wanted it to, eventually, at home, but the whole situation, with all these people around, was almost overwhelming. She looked down again, though, when Jude asked her to come down and try getting up in the air again.

“All right,” she said, reminding herself that she knew how to do this. She did. Bending forward slightly, she tilted the broom toward the ground, her grip on it white-knuckled, and though she thought for a few seconds that she might slip off and fall after all, she got it back to the ground without an accident. She got off the broom and then got back on. “You…sort of pull the end up, like this, while you push off with your feet,” she said, demonstrating this for Jude and rising again into the air, holding on to her broom. “Just don’t kick hard, or you’ll go, um, sailing off through the air like a top out of a bottle,” she advised the other girl, ending the sentence in a rush and with another laugh.

16 Julian U. Just try your best. 254 Julian U. 0 5

Jeweliah Dyste

January 30, 2013 8:14 PM

Y'all need to cheer up! by Jeweliah Dyste

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, just figured I’d come say hi as I hadn’t had the chance to meet you too yet.” Jewels said with an apologetic smile when Keme revealed that she’d startled him. She was, however, glad that he decided to indulge her and explain his last name. She probably should have been able to guess what the highlight of the story was considering his last name, but it was interesting none the less.

“I get it, Runningbear, since they ran a bear off. Very cool.” There weren’t a lot of bears in Texas, and there definitely weren’t any near the ranch, but Jeweliah couldn’t imagine her dad chasing one off. In all likelihood, he’d charm it or something. Her maternal grandma, her Nana, likely would have wanted to shoot it on sight. Even though fur was a fashion staple, Jeweliah wasn’t sure she could condone the murder of animals just to look good.

“That’s a long last name…It makes you sound really fancy.” Jewels said with a grin when Charlie presented his last name to them. “Foxes are cute. Horrible about getting’ in to hen houses, but cute.” The Pecari girl thought back to the ranch for a moment and felt the first pang of homesickness. She did miss the ranch, and mama and daddy; but Sonora was a big new experience and she was meeting new people every day--people very different from herself. It was all one learning opportunity, and soon she’d be home for Christmas; she just needed to buck it up until then.
Jeweliah smiled as Omara and Charlie commented on her name. She was sure that’s what her parents had in mind with the spelling, even though the traditional ‘Julia’ wasn’t very sparkly. It helped her stand out in pageants when her name was on big signs for props and on shirts worn by her mom and Nana.

“Thanks! I like my name, I like to think it’s fittin’. I didn’t realize Omara was a Cuban name, though. Are you Cuban?” She asked her roommate. She knew a little of the girl from the feast, but they definitely had some to learn about each other. They had plenty of time for that though. She tried not to laugh when Omara apologized to Keme for not introducing herself right away. Not because she thought the act was funny, but she was amused by the second half of Omara’s statement.

“I don’t think you’re hopeless, we’re just in a new situation. Everythin’ is a little new and awkward. Some of us just adjust a little better than others, that’s all.” She shrugged, trying to cool the tensions a little bit. She didn’t think Omara meant any harm, but she could also see how Keme may have felt slighted. She was glad when Charlie asked where they were from, more than happy to change the topic to something happier.

“I’m from Texas, Lufkin Texas. We have a ranch there. What about you Charlie?”

Jewels was secretly pleased that Charlie was trying to get Keme more involved in the conversation, and looked to the Aladren for his reply, eager to learn more about his home.

0 Jeweliah Dyste Y'all need to cheer up! 0 Jeweliah Dyste 0 5

Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren

January 31, 2013 10:20 AM

I don't think you would have been entirely misplaced by Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren

“Yes, there's usually something worthwhile to see or do. It suits us very nicely,” Francesca nodded regarding Chicago. She felt the city was full of the most fascinating people. However, her family did have a tendency to seek such people out and she suspected interesting people were a feature of most major cities. However, she couldn't imagine living out in the sticks where she didn't imagine most people bothered to have opinions. Or, if they did, where they had nothing very constructive to do about them. The idea of a life in the country sounded like a painful sort of exile to her. How long could one really suspect anyone with brains to be satisfied by the fact that something was pretty?

“Thank you,” she said, not managing to keep the slight tone of hesitancy out of her voice when he told her how good she was at flying. In her book that was a compliment but, coming from a Pureblood male to a Pureblood female it could just as easily be a rebuke. It hadn't sounded too chastening but it still may have merely been an observation rather than praise. She squared her shoulders and sat up straight, or at least would have had she not been on a broom. Mentally she did so. She was from a magical family and therefore supposed to ride. She would be taking it as a compliment whether or not he had meant it that way. “You are taking to it very admirably,” she responded. She was not a naturally effusive teacher – Malcolm would not be getting constant cries of 'well done,' or 'excellent' or 'now you're getting the hang of it!' but his own praise prompted her, and he really was doing rather a good job. He had navigated the corner and was still upright, for example. Not something everyone achieved.

“We aren't really with the beginners any more,” she observed, wondering whether he had intended that as a loaded question or whether she was merely paranoid. The rest of the class were still hovering and making their way through the first few manoeuvres under the direction of Coach Pierce, whilst she had lured Malcolm away – corruptive influence that she was – and seemed to be privately tutoring him. “I chose to wait and see what the options were. Before any of the more experienced fliers began anything that particularly piqued my interest, I somehow managed to acquire you,” she explained with half a smile. She didn't go so far as to gush and say how very glad she was of that but her tone definitely implied that she was not sore about it.

13 Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren I don't think you would have been entirely misplaced 250 Francesca Wolseithcrafte, Aladren 0 5

Keme

January 31, 2013 9:49 PM

I'm content. by Keme

“Yes.” Keme said to Jeweliah. “Most surnames are based off a story of some kind or our given to the family by the chief.” Keme commented. Although, now days that tradition had sort of fallen by the way side. Keme’s name and a few others had remained because the families had remained within the tribes and continued to boar sons to carry it on. As much as the tribe tried to keep up with traditions, some lost out over others. Keme gave a slight nod to Charlie when he made a comment on the meaning behind Keme’s name. ‘Fox’ usually held positive meaning to his tribe. They were clever and intelligent, so anyone who was referenced to them, it was usually in a good way. He didn’t quite understand though, what Charlie meant when he said that he had more than the average number of parents. Were they divorced? Although divorce was rare and not something Keme had dealt with personally as his parents were still happily married, but it did happen from time to time within the tribe. But divorce wouldn’t make sense for three last names… maybe one died? That wasn’t a polite thing to ask though, so Keme remained quiet. He did agree with Jeweliah though with regards to foxes. They did like to cause trouble. People back home were always shooing them off the property and away from their fields.

Keme didn’t really see what was special about Jeweliah’s name. There were a lot of ‘Julias’ in the world for it to be unique. Not that it was a terrible name or anything. He just didn’t see what they saw. Unless they were referring to her nickname of ‘Jewels’ in which, then he could understand why they found it ‘sparkly’. He did find that Omara’s name was different though, so that was nice, even if he wasn’t so fond of her.

The girl spoke to him for the first time since she intruded only to apologize for not saying anything before and used social situations as an excuse. For someone who claimed to be hopeless, she was quick to join a group of three and had no problem greeting Charlie, with whom she had never met. She had purposefully ignored Keme, which Keme felt was discourteous. Jeweliah made her own remark though and prevented Keme from having to say anything. Probably for the best. If the girl didn’t want to talk to him for whatever reason, he wasn’t going to force it upon her simply because she felt bad.

The conversation turned on him again and Keme blinked for a moment. He wasn’t expecting to be asked about his home. “Er, yes, Montana.” He said. “We have many traditions that we try to continue through the generations. Blackfoot is our language that remains one of our more important traditions to continue, but we grow up being taught English right along with it.” Keme explained. “It is different but it’s the same too. My people work hard to maintain a steady relationship with those outside of the tribe. This year they decided to reach out to other communities and allow our knowledge to grow by having us go to schools outside of our tribe. So, I’m one of the first to leave.”

Keme was still adjusting and he knew that it would take a long time to fully feel comfortable here. It was hard for him to talk with people about things. What was normal to him probably wasn’t normal to them and so, it would be an adjustment period. To Jeweliah, he said, “Your ranch is probably similar to our lands. We have many farm lands with cattle and crops. We have horses too. Although, I don’t know if Texas has the mountains like we do.” He sure did miss his home.

“Is it a different for you?” He asked Charlie, since he asked him first, although it was a general question that anyone could answer.

0 Keme I'm content. 0 Keme 0 5

Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw

February 03, 2013 4:17 PM

Yay! I knew you'd warm to us! by Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw

Charlie grinned as Omara showed a little more enthusiasm, albeit quite quietly. Spingly was a good word and he was already a fan of anything spangly, and anyone who used such adjectives appreciatively.

He was pleased as his plan seemed to work and Keme opened up a bit, both talking about his home and trying to find some common ground with Jewels. It confirmed his theory – possibly slightly unfortunabtely for Keme - that the guy wasn't really grumpy or unsociable but just homesick, and would lighten up so long as they kept being friendly and finding things to talk about which showed him he could fit in with them. It sounded like there was quite a lot of expectation from his folks for him to do that, which Charlie guessed was kind of scary.

“Wow. That's a pretty big deal – them sending you off to do that,” he said, hoping that didn't make Keme feel under any additional pressure. He'd meant it to sound positive as, in spite of it being a big responsibility, he thought it was a good thing. “I mean, they obviously really trust you, which is nice.

“It's different cos it's school, and the lessons are different and it's weird not being around my parents all the time. But my sister's here, and she's been here the last three years and I miss her when she's away, so it's nice that I get to see her more, even though she's not in my house – she's in Aladren, a forth year,” he added, mainly to Keme seeing as he robes indicated that was also his house. “So far it's kind of what I expect school to be like though, so it doesn't seem different that way. I'm from San Francisco originally and I really like it there. I love that there's always something fun to do and I really really love being by the sea. It'll be weird not having that but my sister said there's a water room here that'll be whatever kind of water you want, and I'm sure I'll find loads of fun things to do with other people,” he grinned, never one to miss a positive way of looking at things. He'd already met two Julians and now there were his three flying companions. He couldn't imagine that he'd really be lonely or bored here.

13 Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw Yay! I knew you'd warm to us! 252 Charlie B-F-R, Teppenpaw 0 5

Jude Butler

February 05, 2013 9:05 PM

Trying... by Jude Butler

Julian giggled when Jude said her name. The eleven year old wondered what was so funny and she felt all alone. Not only did she have no idea what she was supposed to be doing with this magic thing, but she was getting laughed at for only saying her name?

But when Julian apologized for not expecting name company, Jude was confused for a moment. The muscles in her mind worked in overtime mode to try to work out this small mystery. Name company? We don't have the same name... Unless Julian meant that both our names started with a 'J' or that both of our names could be used for a boy or a girl... she thought as she looked at her again, deciding what her ending result of her small debate was inside her mind. "It's nice to meet you too." she said, as Julian came down from her hover.

Jude put her hand back over her broom, remembering what Coach told them to do. "Up." she said. The broom didn't rise up into her hand, but it did roll over this time. Jude sighed and looked up at Julian as the Teppenpaw told her what she needed to do in order to hover too.

"Sailing through the air like a top out of a bottle?" she said as she swallowed her saliva and almost didn't even want her broom to rise up into her hand to begin with. Ohmygosh... I'm so gonna die... she thought as she looked up at Julian, terrified.

0 Jude Butler Trying... 0 Jude Butler 0 5

Julian U.

February 06, 2013 2:16 PM

Keep trying. by Julian U.

Instead of laughing, Jude looked absolutely terrified after Julian offered her half-baked advice about good flying technique, and it occurred to Julian that a habit of trying to break the tension in some situations might not always be a good thing, or at least that she might really be very bad at it. At least when it came to stuff like this, where really, if she was going to be totally honest, her use of hyperbole wasn’t really that hyper. She decided, though, not to be totally honest with Jude, because she just didn’t see how that could end well.

“Um, that was sort of an exaggeration,” she said. “I don’t think we’re even strong enough to kick off that hard. But I think less can be more when it comes to brooms. But Coach Pierce would totally save us before anyone could get really hurt,” she finished quickly. “So there’s nothing really to worry about. It’s her job to make sure we’re safe.”

At least some of the other beginners, after all, if nothing else, came from big, rich families. That was all but a given. Julian hoped the coach was really a good person who would be just as slow, if she knew all their backgrounds by heart, to let a Muggleborn get hurt as someone with a bunch of rich old homicidal patriarchs in their family tree, but even her gloomier side saw the practical benefits to Coach Pierce of not letting any of them get killed, especially since Julian really doubted the staff knew who every single one of them was off the tops of their heads yet. Even if they’d spent time learning lists of pictures, she thought people were more likely than not to get a little mixed up in some cases until they had had time to attach personalities to those faces as well as names, though she guessed that she and Jude might have stood out even just on a list if it came with pictures because of their names.

“Go on, try again to get your broom up,” she encouraged Jude. “You can do it, and then you’ll be done with it and if you don’t like it you’ll be that much closer to not having to do it again, after we finish this class this year. Nearly anything’s all right for just that long.” Well, maybe not, but this was, and most encouragement was based on half-lies anyway.

16 Julian U. Keep trying. 254 Julian U. 0 5

Jude

February 12, 2013 5:49 PM

Trying again... by Jude

Jude had no idea what she was doing there. Both at Flying Class and at a Magical School to begin with... She was nothing special, nothing magical, nothing like that to anyone other than her family...

"An exaggeration?" Jude repeated, "Oh, okay." she added, sighing in relief. "I'm not too sure how I feel about flying, to be honest, even with Coach Pierce here... You see, this is all new to me and- well- its scary, you know?"

She waited for Julian's response to her and when Julian suggested she should try to get her broom up and with a sigh, Jude put her hand back over the handle and said, "Up." This time the broom actually rolled over and rose a little bit off the ground before it slammed back down onto the Pitch, right on her foot. Another sigh appeared from her mouth as she tried her hardest not to cry. She wasn't the emotional one on a normal day (in the normal world) so the way she was feeling was definitely not okay for her. I'll need to think about why this is all happening when I'm laying in bed tonight. she thought, as the thought hit her like a truck. "It's cause I don't feel like I belong here and I want to go home..." she whispered, bending her head a little bit to the left, thinking about it. "Hm..." she finished her thought and realized that Julian had probably heard what she had said.

"Sorry... That wasn't supposed to be out loud." Jude blushed, knowing that Julian now knew just how she felt about everything.

OOC: Julian, I'm sorry this reply took so long!! The internet we had has disappeared... so we'll be posting but much more sporadically, unfortunately...

0 Jude Trying again... 0 Jude 0 5