Professor Skies
May 25, 2013 3:07 PM
First Year Flying Lesson by Professor Skies
Amelia had contracted some kind of vile 'flu bug and needed cover for the first flying class of the year. And thus, before she had met them yet in her proper capacity as their Transfiguration Professor, Selina was heading out to supervise the new first years on the pitch. She'd gone over with Amelia what she usually did; let the capable ones do their own thing, let the prim ones ride side saddle if they had to and don't let anyone die. It seemed straight-forward. On paper. Now as she stood on the pitch, she was starting to feel a little less comfortable. She was a competent flyer, having played Quidditch throughout her school years, and occasionally during her teaching career in staff-student matches, or else at family events. She was also, she hoped, rather more than a competent teacher. She could only hope, therefore, that teaching flying was not a task much more complicated than the sum of its parts, in which case she would be alright. Teaching things, however, usually was harder than doing them but as she was just guiding the students in a hover, she thought it would be manageable.“Good morning,” she called, once everyone seemed to have assembled. She had allowed a few minutes for stragglers, seeing as they were still bound to be finding their way, but started once she felt she had the majority there. “I am Professor Skies, and you will more usually find me in your Transfiguration classes. However, as Coach Pierce is sick today, I have offered to cover this class for her.” The first order of business was to take the register. She made her way from Bennett to Yesir, ticking them off as they answered.
“Right, those of you who are experienced flyers will have the opportunity to move away from the learners in a minute,” she phrased it carefully to prevent any of them haring off before she had finished giving them their instructions. “There is a basket of sports balls, including Quaffles, at the other side of the pitch. You may fly around or play however you wish within reason. Be aware of the beginners and be sensible. Misbehaving is not only discourteous to your colleagues who are trying to learn but, as with many situations you will encounter at a magical school, can be downright dangerous. If anyone misbehaves, they will spend the rest of the session on the bench, and suffer any other sanctions I deem necessary,” she informed them, her face serious. Although she liked to be upbeat and friendly there were certain things it just did not do to joke about, and safety warnings were one of them. “If you wish to spend the lesson in the non-learner group, you may make your way towards the other side of the pitch now.” The balls were placed near enough that she would be able to keep a reasonable eye on the group.
“Ok, beginners,” she said, turning to the remaining first years. “Before we start out, I would like to remind everyone that this is a flying lesson. It is not a Quidditch lesson and thus I cannot foresee it causing any problems,” she said, speaking at least as firmly as she had done when warning the other group not to mess around. “It is a compulsory part of your education and everyone is expected to put in their full effort. Everyone take a school broom. If you wish to have your seat adjusted to fly side-saddle, please raise your hand,” she moved through the crowd, making adjustments where requested.
“Now, place your broom beside you, hold your wand hand out above it and give the command Up!” she intoned, her own broom jumping to her hand as she demonstrated. “You will need to be clear and commanding, and feel a genuine intent to make the broom obey you. Once you have succeeded in this, your broom will stay in a hover and you can mount, either astride or side-saddle.”
OOC
Welcome to your first class! The structure of this will be the same as the feast, i.e. small threads starting out from this one. By posting in class, you will earn points for your house as posts are graded 1-5. The usual site rules of a minimum 200 words apply. However, if you write an average post, you will get an average mark. If you write a good post, you will get a good mark. The marking is based on how well you write, not how well your character does at the lesson. Relevance, believability, length and creativity are the key to a good mark.
If you are unsure what is expected of you please:
- Check the FAQ
- Check the 'dos and don'ts for class threads' post
- Ask on the OOC board
Remember that a teacher is present and would stop any situation before it got out of hand, so end posts at a point that gives me a chance to react if your character is getting into difficulty or misbehaving. If you wish to have your broom adjusted to side-saddle, you may assume that Professor Skies did this. Otherwise, as per usual, there is no writing for other characters.
Subthreads: Soaring through the air! by Chloe Jareau with Viktor Volkov, Crotalus, Chloe
Happy clouds floating by Ji-Eun Park, Pecari with Eleanor Vandenberg - Crotalus, Nellie Vandenberg
Fancy a race? by Leo Princeton, Crotalus with Dimitri Porter, Teppenpaw, Leo Princeton
Can I do something else now? by Emery Kijewski-Jareau
This situation is precarious at best. by Thaddeus Luther Leebridge III with Ava Fletcher, T.L. Leebridge
The moment I've been waiting for. by Tristan Spaulding, Crotalus
Wanna play catch? by Darina Porter
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Professor Skies
First Year Flying Lesson
26
Professor Skies
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Thaddeus Luther Leebridge III
May 28, 2013 11:05 PM
This situation is precarious at best. by Thaddeus Luther Leebridge III
Thaddeus may have loved to learn new things, but upon arriving at his very first class at Sonora, he was more than disappointed. Academic work he could handle, and handle deftly, but never before had he ventured near a broomstick. Joining in his younger brother's hazardous airborne games of keep-away and Hippogriff-in-the-middle had been out of the question from the beginning, forbidden by a set of parents who feared that their firstborn might unexpectedly snap in half if hit by a strong gust of wind. It was generally acknowledged in family circles that Edwin was the athlete and Thaddeus the scholar. Sports didn't much interest the elder Leebridge, and he'd had no reason to go against the wishes of his parents.Now, as he stood surrounded by the grassy emptiness which was the Quidditch Pitch, facing a long row of broomsticks, Thaddeus felt like he might vomit. The substitute flying instructor concluded her spiel, and with difficulty Thaddeus swallowed as he watched some of the more experienced First Years zoom skyward. They soared as casually as eagles, dancing above the young Aladren's head. A passel of mischievous Pixies seemed to have taken up residence in his belly.
Thaddeus crept forward, installing himself to the left of the nearest available broom. As per Professor Skies' instructions, he raised his right hand over the shaft, standing ramrod straight in an entirely unconvincing attempt to look confident, and mumbled "Up." The broomstick remained firmly on the ground. Thaddeus wished he could do the same. He delivered another "Up," this one with slightly more conviction, but to no avail. Some of the beginners had already mounted, and others had at least convinced their brooms to roll about on the grass. His was, by all appearances, completely inanimate. Thaddeus thought of his brother's easy confidence, and wondered idly how fast Edwin would have been able to convince the stubborn thing to rise. Thaddeus felt his face redden, and he took a deep breath.
"You know what," he whispered fiercely to his unresponsive broomstick, "Obviously you don't like me much, but it may be a shocker that I've little enough fondness for you in return." He paused for a moment, suddenly very aware that he was having a conversation with a stick tied to some twigs. After establishing that no one was paying attention to his little diatribe, Thaddeus continued, doing his best to sound threatening. "See, it's my brother who enjoys this sort of thing. I'd be just as happy to burn you for firewood and roast some marshmallows over the fire, get me? Now I would appreciate it if you'd keep me from sticking out like a sore thumb and just come up already!"
The broom rose with a smack into his waiting palm. Thaddeus allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. He'd swung a leg over the handle and begun his ascent before he realized the danger of combining a hostile broomstick with the rapidly widening gap between him and the ground.
As if in response to this very thought, Thaddeus' broomstick veered violently left. Clinging tightly to the shaft as the broom accelerated, Thaddeus failed to notice the mounted student he was plunging towards until it was too late. He collided with the green-robed flyer in a tangle of twigs and limbs and chaos.
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Thaddeus Luther Leebridge III
This situation is precarious at best.
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Thaddeus Luther Leebridge III
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Ava Fletcher
May 30, 2013 4:46 PM
It's okay, it's only payback.. by Ava Fletcher
Ava had been really nervous to start her first ever flying lesson. While it was something that she had only ever wished she could do- be like one of the fairies in the books she so loved to read, she was still scared as ever to try it. Flying sounded fun and adventurous but also like something that could end quite badly. She was carefully appraising her broom trying to figure out the best way to approach this task when she was suddenly pushed over by a body.As she fell she realized just how hard doing this would be as falling was something she'd never enjoy doing though it was a prerequisite to climbing up high things as a small child so it was also something she was quite used to. This time, however, she had been quite unprepared for the incident and muttered to herself about the scrapes that were sure to be on her hands and knees after this. She lept to her feet, hands on her hips ready to snap at whoever it was, braid swinging over her shoulder when she realized she recognized him. She stuck out a hand, offering to help the poor boy to his feet.
"Hey, T.L., funny how we keep meeting." She laughed a little bit to herself at how at their last encounter it was she who had tried to manhandle him . She was happy that the person was at least someone she knew, someone who, like her, enjoyed reading. It was also somewhat comforting that he was the one who had done the crashing as now she didn't feel as bad for trying to push him over the first night. And in addition, now she didn't feel as self-conscious about her own flying and she told him so too. "At least now I won't be the only flyer out here who doesn't know what they're doing," she joked.
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Ava Fletcher
It's okay, it's only payback..
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Ava Fletcher
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T.L. Leebridge
May 30, 2013 8:46 PM
And now we're even. by T.L. Leebridge
Thaddeus scrambled to his feet with Ava's help, and ran a hand through mussed dark hair, slightly grassy from his recent acrobatics. His wicked broom lay inert a few yards away, and he shot it a dirty look as if to prevent any further funny business. He pat himself down for injuries as Ava greeted him for the second time, finding nothing but a small tear in the khakis he wore under his robe. Relieved, Thaddeus turned to the girl to make sure she was alright was well. She seemed in a fairly good humor for someone who'd just been knocked over with a broom, not that he had any points of comparison, not being the sort of boy who went around and crashed into people on a regular basis. She'd looked mad when she first stood up, but in no time at all her indignation had been replaced with a laugh and a joke.Looking down at the sorry state of his robes, Thaddeus began to laugh as well. His mirth began as nothing more than a giggle provoked by the absurdity of at all, but it progressed quickly into the sort of rib-shaking guffaw which belongs exclusively to pun-telling fathers and people who stay up past three in the morning (at which point things began to register as significantly funnier than they really are). As Ava had said, he really didn't know what he was doing. Thaddeus' eyes watered and his sides hurt with adrenaline-fueled laughter. He'd just threatened a broomstick, for goodness sake, and look where it'd gotten him! With substantial effort, he pulled himself together, and still chuckling weakly, returned Ava's greeting.
"Funny, um, running into you here." Hearing the inadvertent pun only sent Thaddeus into gales of laughter once again. "But really--" he gasped between chortles, "It's nice to see you again. I swear I'm not laughing at you," he added hurriedly, "If you were, um, if you were thinking anything like that."
When he'd calmed down a tad, T.L. turned back to the girl he was rapidly beginning to consider a friend. "Obviously you know that I'm, well, I'm not the smoothest of broom riders. But you said you didn't know what you were doing either." In his case, inexperience on a broomstick was self-imposed due mainly to timidness, but he couldn't imagine a confident type like Ava growing up without playing in a few impromptu Quidditch matches. "Are you... from somewhere that people don't ride much?"
He looked up at the taller girl, grey eyes wide, awaiting a response.
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T.L. Leebridge
And now we're even.
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T.L. Leebridge
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Ava Fletcher
May 31, 2013 4:38 AM
Sounds good to me! by Ava Fletcher
As she hoisted T.L. up Ava knew that as soon as she had time she was writing a letter to her grandfather about him. She knew he'd like to hear about this boy who was similar to her in regards to balance and book loving. In addition he seemed nice enough and kind of clueless about the whole going off on his own sort of thing- just like her. She checked her palms for scrapes and then her knees and when she only found a slight cut on her left knee she nodded happily. At least it was just a small cut, something that would stop bleeding soon enough and quite repairable with a Band-Aid. She lifted up her robes and reached into a pocket of her corduroy skirt to put a crumpled Band-Aid on her knee. There, no biggie, all fixed up. She was lucky that her grandfather had snuck a few Band-Aids into all of her pockets and an extra box into her trunk.As T.L. started laughing, Ava found herself laughing even more. He had one of those laughs that just sent her into even more fits of giggles and she knew that if they continued to have this much fun together then he would make a really fantastic friend. She loved people who could make her laugh. "I wasn't thinking at all," Ava was starting to think that T.L. had some confidence issues, but wasn't side-tracked at all. If they became friends- as it looked like they were, then she hoped he wouldn't be one of those people who cared about blood-type. While helping her pack-up, Ava's mother had warned her about some of the pure-blood families who might not like having their kids be friends with a half-blood.
"Are you... from somewhere that people don't ride much?" T.L. looked up at her with his eyes wide and Ava noticed that they were a lovely shade of grey- like the color of her beloved cat back home, Seal, after the cat in another book that she loved so much, Sarah, Plain and Tall . She had wanted to bring Seal to Sonora with her but hadn't known if pets were allowed.
Ava shook her head, bits of hair knocked loose from the fall falling into her face. While she hadn't wanted to talk about background just in case T.L. came from a family like that- though she wasn't sure, for all she knew he could have been Muggle born, she figured it was better to find out now than to become friends and then have to stop later on. "I live with my grandfather. He's a Muggle. My mom is a witch but she's a Healer and she travels a lot for her job so I'm not really around her much and then her parents who are magical too are usually too busy to have me over so it's just me and Papa." Ava bit her lip hoping T.L. didn't notice the missing part of the equation. Obviously if she had a mother, she had a father too. Otherwise she wouldn't be standing here covered in grass. "But I don't mind it. He's really sweet and he cares a lot about me. He really loves books too."
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Ava Fletcher
Sounds good to me!
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Ava Fletcher
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T.L. Leebridge
May 31, 2013 7:34 PM
Two is my favorite even number. by T.L. Leebridge
Thaddeus couldn't recall ever having met someone magical who had a Muggle for a grandfather. His parents had always been diligent in keeping such riffraff -- halfbloods, Squibs and the like -- off their polished hardwood floors. Although he'd spent his childhood only an hour's drive away from the Muggle metropolis known as Boston, he'd never had an opportunity to venture into the city. Such things just weren't done in the Leebridge household; T.L. had never paused to wonder why. His tutors and parents had always described Muggles in terms of their inferiority; they were at best a satisfying topic of study and at worst a menace to their magical counterparts. He'd read the greats, of course, Mr. Twain and Tolstoy and Emily Dickinson and the rest, and viewed the whole group with a kind of offhand interest. Without magic, they'd developed a fairly impressive set of cultural identities, and their history revealed an intellectual capacity which seemed on par with that of the wizards he knew.So when Ava admitted that she actually lived with one of them, a real live Muggle, Thaddeus' immediate reaction was shock, followed by the curiosity of a scientist examining a new sort of moth he'd just found on an expedition. He would have liked to pelt the girl with questions about what her Papa looked like and how he took his coffee and if he was left- or right-handed, but out of respect for the man as an elder, he held his tongue. In his excitement, Thaddeus failed to notice that the girl hadn't mentioned her father at all.
T.L. had not had a happy childhood, and although he'd twice met his grandfather and namesake, the wrinkled old man had left an impression primarily of staleness. Thaddeus II had once possessed the powerful build of an athlete, long since warped by multiple strokes and the disintegration of aging. When he visited his son's family, he'd commandeered the comfiest armchair for her personal use and shouted indistinct abuse at any house elf who dared come near. Ava's Papa sounded softer than Grandfather Leebridge, an entirely different flavor of ancestor.
Thaddeus wondered for the first time if his family might have been better off as Muggles themselves. His mother and father wouldn't have to worry about their reputations so much if there was no clear line between themselves and the others around them, and Edwin would find a way to enjoy himself, magic or no magic. All T.L. really needed was his books, and there were plenty of non-magical ones out there. He sighed, knowing that such a thought was as unattainable as it was attractive. In his case, family instability seemed to be the price paid for the privilege of wizardry.
"I don't know my grandfather too well," Thaddeus told the grass-stained girl beside him. "But I wish he was as nice as yours sounds. Uh, I've always lived with my parents instead. And my little brother, Edwin." Not knowing if it was rude to mention the partly-magical status of Ava's family, Thaddeus quietly added: "I've never actually someone with Muggle blood before." He smiled nervously. "I guess I thought you might have orange skin, or a tail or something."
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T.L. Leebridge
Two is my favorite even number.
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T.L. Leebridge
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Ava Fletcher
May 31, 2013 8:43 PM
Mine is twelve. by Ava Fletcher
As Ava waited for T.L.'s response, she twisted her fingers worried that he might respond negatively which would really have been a shame seeing as they'd gotten along quite well in their two meetings so far. When T.L. did respond, it startled her. Well the bit about his family didn't so much, she knew of girls in her school who didn't know their grandparents at all, and it was normal to live with one's parents and siblings- if one had any. But the part about being orange or having a tail? That was kind of bizarre. It made Ava wonder if T.L. was from one of those families seeing as he had never been around anyone with Muggle blood before. Not that it mattered to Ava, it didn't, she was just shocked, she'd figured that everyone at some point in their lives came across a Muggle or two after all the majority of the world was populated with them- according to her social studies teacher who'd said there were 6 billion people on the planet."O-orange skin?" Ava's eyes grew wide. "No, only fake-tanners have that and it's really nasty. As for a tail while that would be awesome, but I'm no mermaid no matter what Papa calls me. How is it that you've never met anyone with Muggle blood, aren't they everywhere?"
It was odd to her that someone had never met anyone with Muggle blood, having grown up surrounded by Muggles. She wondered what it was like to grow up in a wizarding family and knew that once T.L. had finished answering her question she would immediately start asking about what life was like surrounded by magic. It was fascinating, did that mean his parents prepare him better than her mom and Papa had? Did they have house elves like she'd seen at her grandparents the few times she'd been over? Did T.L.'s parents want to know about Muggles or had they grown up completely oblivious to them? And, most importantly of all, how did they feel about the Salem Witch Trials or any of the other witch hunts that were happening all over the world?
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Ava Fletcher
Mine is twelve.
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Ava Fletcher
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T.L. Leebridge
June 02, 2013 12:42 AM
I've always had a problem with twelve. by T.L. Leebridge
T.L. regretted mentioning orange skin and tails as soon as he heard the incredulous note in Ava's voice. He wasn't entirely sure if he'd meant the comment literally. But having really never in his life actually looked at a Muggle, how was he to know what they looked like? When speaking of the non-magical businessmen he was forced to interact with on his trips into Boston, the boy's father could be viciously derogatory. Often T.L.'s mother would hustle her boys from their spot by the ornate marble fireplace up into their bedrooms when he started using words generally avoided in polite company. Rudolph Leebridge was not a shouter, no, his abuse was targeted and cold, the calmly prejudiced rhetoric of a fundamentalist Pureblood. There was ice in his voice and metal in his stare, put there by his own parents and reinforced by a skewed vision of the world which he expected his sons to adopt.Edwin had picked up this hereditary bias with the casual ease of a boy who knows his importance in the world. Thaddeus, less proud but just as impressionable, had at first been eager to accept the teachings of his father.
It was a particularly passionate Muggle Studies tutor who'd finally brought the boy around to a more reasonable mode of thinking with the introduction of Muggle literature into his curriculum. Thaddeus found their interpretation of the little magic which had managed to trickle its way into their public consciousness fascinating. He was particularly fond of Austen's satirical take on the aristocracy. Funny how the Muggle rich of the past weren't so very different from his own family.
Still, Thaddeus' interest in the Muggle world had been built on the foundation of misinformation and prejudice. He didn't know how to explain this to Ava. Shifting uncomfortably, Thaddeus cleared his throat before answering.
"Well," he admitted, "I was... I was really sick as a kid. Really fragile, so, erm, I didn't get out of the house much. And, and we weren't in a big city or anything. I guess I just never, uh, never met one." Thaddeus bit his lip, feeling guilty about lying by omission. Although it was dishonest to conceal the truth from her, he was sure Ava would hate him if she knew anything more about his family history.
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T.L. Leebridge
I've always had a problem with twelve.
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T.L. Leebridge
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Ava Fletcher
June 04, 2013 2:53 AM
That's like me and six. by Ava Fletcher
"Well, I was... I was really sick as a kid. Really fragile, so, erm, I didn't get out of the house much. And, and we weren't in a big city or anything. I guess I just never, uh, never met one.""Oh." After T.L. said he was sick as a child, Ava immediately felt bad about assuming he was an elitist. It wasn't as if her family was that way and they were purebloods. At least, on her mother's side. Ava shook her head. That stuff didn't matter anyway because T.L. was going to be her friend and he didn't sound like he carried about her heritage which is all that mattered to her. As long as the new friend that she had made stayed her friend Ava didn't exactly mind. Besides, there were more important matters at hand, like what life as a pureblood was like. Growing up with a Muggle grandfather was great and all, but it wasn't actually that exciting. There was no magic. Well, Papa always tried to spice things up, but for some reason though the things he did for her made her happy, they never had the same bit of spark as the things her mother did. It was probably because she rarely saw her mother so her mother's acts were therefore special, but Ava liked to think it was because of the magic. The real, live magic like from one of her Papa's many books.
"Actually," Ava played with the tip of her braid, a habit that she'd had ever since her hair was long enough to braid and pursed her lips in thought as she tried to figure out the right way to ask the impending question- well questions, without sounding rude. "Were you- I mean, did your parents, well..." She trailed off and her forehead creased in thought. "I suppose I'll just say it because I can't figure out how to ask it in a polite way but I don't mean to suggest you were tutored on the sly, but did your parents prepare you for school, like academically wise? I mean, did they teach you spells and potions? I was just wondering because I don't really have much background, my mom's always away for work so I don't really know how it's supposed to be done."
Ava smiled at T.L. again, hoping she wasn't coming across as being rude or too curious about his home life. She decided to put her other questions on hold but they just burst out of her mouth before she could stop them. "And do you have actual house elves? Only, my mother's parents have them even though I've only been over there once or twice and they have to do like everything you ask them to, right? And did your parents know about Muggles when they were little? Like, in the magic world is it the same where Muggles aren't talked about like how wizards aren't talked about in the Muggle world? Which reminds me, what is your family's opinion on the Salem Witch Trials?" Ava took a deep breath and slapped her hand over her mouth in shock. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't really mean to pry, it's just, I have all these questions about what it's like to grow up in a magical household and I just couldn't help myself!" The smile Ava offered at the end of her statement this time wasn't necessarily because she was happy but because she was nervous and worried about making the right impression with her new friend.
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Ava Fletcher
That's like me and six.
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Ava Fletcher
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T.L. Leebridge
June 04, 2013 7:37 PM
And don't even get me started on the odds. by T.L. Leebridge
T.L. knew his answer had been vague, and he felt his muscles tense in anticipation of Ava's follow up questions. Just as he had feared, they came hard and fast, a million different points of scrutiny on the bits of his life he'd really rather not inform her about. There was so much he imagined they could discuss at length, but he'd rather the conversation didn't begin with an examination of the differences between them. T.L. already felt isolated from much of the student body, and couldn't stand the thought of alienating Ava with the story of his high-minded, Pureblooded upbringing.He returned her smile uncertainly, and began: "Yeah, I had some tutoring. God, yeah, I mean there were lots of tutors. No actual magic, since that's not done, but theory and stuff, sure. Music and dancing too, so I supposed you could say I'm well-rounded." He ran a twitchy hand through his hair. "House elves, just a couple. My mother didn't believe in... too many cooks mess up the kitchen or something, I guess."
It was simple enough to just look Ava in the eye and tell her inconsequential things about his education and his servants, but T.L. knew, as soon as the topic switched to his parents' experiences with Muggles, there wouldn't be a way to avoid offending the girl. Avoidance, cowardly as it seemed, was his best option. So, steeling his shoulders and recovering his errant broomstick, Thaddeus avoided. "Um, we've been standing around and talking for a while, and I think the coach is looking over here. I'm going to do my best to mount this sucker," he declared, gesturing to the askew twigs of his broom, "and try hovering again. Considering our little collision, I'd... well, I'd advise you stay as far away as possible, if you value keeping your limbs intact and whatnot."
Perhaps the broom sensed some of T.L.'s inner turmoil, as it barely fought his efforts to climb aboard and make his airborne way back to the crowd of inexperienced flyers. He stayed low enough to the ground to drag his toes on the manicured grass, and resisted the urge to look back at Ava as he left her behind.
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T.L. Leebridge
And don't even get me started on the odds.
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T.L. Leebridge
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5