Flying Lessons by Coach Olivers
In order to prepare for her role as Coach and flying lessons instructor for this year, Florence had prepared and studied just as she did for any other role. Her brother in Chicago was a part-time coach for the Quodpot team at the local magical high school and she had spent some time with him at his practices and games to familiarize herself with coaching duties. Now was the time to use all she had learned and teach the beginners. There were bound to be some students who didn’t completely master riding a broom their first year. Any second years that had received less than an O were allowed to take the class again for a better grade, but Florence didn’t expect most of them would need to. Flying was usually a pretty easy class once the students got the hang of it.Florence confidently stood in front of the younglings with her clipboard. She liked everyone to be punctual, but she told herself to be merciful on the first day with brand new students. After a couple of minutes, she started class as she would with any Charms class, though she made sure to keep her brother’s advice in mind.
“Good morning, class. Welcome to flying lessons. I am Professor Olivers, but you can call me Coach Olivers if you prefer. I am the Charms teacher here at Sonora, but I will also be the Quidditch coach for the time being.” Florence didn’t know how she had gotten herself so much work, but she did like it very much. She was a workaholic and it fed her ego and her personality to have so much to do and prepare.
“Flying lessons are required for all first years, but for those who already know how to fly there are other options. However, all students must spend their time on a broom for the entire class period. Every class period will begin with roll call and then the more experienced flyers can break off to either play informal scrimmages or fly laps around the pitch. As long as you do not disturb the lessons, you are free to do what you like within reason. We have quaffles available for use, but do not ask me to bring out a Snitch or the bludgers.” There was no way she was going to allow any students to use any Quods either. Leaving students to entertain themselves was dangerous enough without adding an explosive Quod into the mix. Sometimes Florence thought her brother was crazy for volunteering to coach such a sport. At least nothing exploded in Quidditch. “If you are already confident in your flying ability, go ahead and make your way to the opposite end of the pitch where the quaffles are.”
Florence called role then, and after she had marked off the students that were present she let the more experienced flyers go to the other end of the pitch. They were far enough that they wouldn’t disturb the beginners, but close enough that Florence could keep an eye on them. Once the group had split, Florence turned her attention to the beginners. “Alright, now we are going to learn how to fly. Everyone please take a school broom to begin with.” She waited until the students had grabbed a broom from the pile in front of her. “Put your broom on the ground beside you, hold your wand hand out—your dominant hand, that is—and say, Up!” The broom she had leaped to her hand. The trick to it is to genuinely command the broom to do as you say. Don’t be shy about it, but confident.” Confidence was the key to acting, a career Florence had pursued for a long time. She found some comfort in being able to bring what she had learned as a stage actress for twenty-three years to her new career as a professor. “Once your broom is up, it will stay up so that you can mount it, either astride or side-saddle if you wish.”
OOC:
Welcome to your first class! By posting in this class, you will earn points for your house. There is a minimum of 200 words per post or three paragraphs, but the longer and more creative a post is, the more points you will receive. Points are awarded for how well you write, not how well your character does in a lesson. Keep your posts realistic, relevant to the lesson as much as possible, creative, and at a reasonable length!
If you have any questions, tag Professor Olivers on the OOC board or check the FAQ.
Professor Olivers will be present and would stop any situation before it got out of hand. Make sure you don’t write for other characters without their permission. However, if your character wants to ride side-saddle, you can safely assume Professor Olivers adjusted their broom. Otherwise, have fun with your posts!
Subthreads: I like the name 'Applied Physics' better. by John Umland, Aladren with Clark Dill, Aladren
Not as easy as it looks! by Theo Dashland, Crotalus with Coach Olivers, Uzume Shinohara
An informal scrimmage? by Joella Curtis
Just a casual stroll through the air. by Aiden O'Neil, Teppenpaw
Think confident thoughts by Araceli Arbon, Crotalus
Retaking the course, just in case by Katherine Procter, Crotalus
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Coach Olivers
Flying Lessons
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Coach Olivers
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John Umland, Aladren
August 11, 2014 4:13 PMJohn Umland, Aladren
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 11
Birthday: September 23rd
I like the name 'Applied Physics' better. by John Umland, Aladren
John had been looking forward to classes. A lot. He had been reading his older siblings’ essays over his mother’s shoulder when Steve and Julian sent them home for her to read after the professors graded for a lot longer than he’d had any idea what those essays were saying, he had gotten in trouble more than once for playing with wands when he was younger, and he had read two of his textbooks over the summer and chapters from all of them. He had not wanted to leave his mother, leave his friends, or lose access to the technological comforts he was used to, but he had given them all up just to come here and study magic and thought it would be worth it.It was, then, with more than a trace of disgust that he noticed he was approaching one of his classes with some trepidation. Flying lessons should have been as awesome as all the others, and he knew he was not the stereotypical physically useless nerd, but as he lined up with the other first years and looked between his classmates and the lady standing at the front of the class, he found it impossible to deny that he was a little nervous.
He had flown before. His dad’s grandparents had a cabin in the mountains where they vacationed sometimes, and it was far enough away from civilization that he had gotten to try out a couple of brooms while there. He hadn’t done so recently, though, he was a city kid, and while he, as the kid of a Quodpot announcer, could tell the school brooms in a pile in front of the lady weren’t fantastic, he was pretty sure they were better than the one he’d been allowed to play with on those summer vacations, anyway. Shows of magical and athletic prowess were his best chances, as a guy and a non-pureblood, for obtaining a good position in the forming first year herd, and he was afraid that he might be down to one option if this lesson didn’t go well.
John already missed the people he knew because they were people whose company he had enjoyed, but he had not considered the possibility of just missing knowing what his place in the flock was. He was suddenly glad that there was no real chance that rejection by the other first years, people whose goodwill it had never occurred to him that he would really need, would result in being expelled from the herd and left to die in the desert. He took a notebook out of his pocket, detached a tiny, flat ink pen from the elastic holding it shut, and scribbled some notes about society kind of starting to make sense from an evolutionary standpoint before hastily shoving it all back into his pockets as the lady – Professor Olivers – started talking.
There was no way to do things but to do them, and he did better at most tasks without someone looking over his shoulder, so when the class split, John ignored his reason, grabbed a broom, and went with those who were supposed to be comfortable flying, though he didn't stand near anyone or try to get any of the toys. He had figured out how to get from the ground to a tree to the roof of his house on his own before, so he did not think listening to his nerves was logical now.
He put the broom down flat beside him and stood about halfway between its ends before he extended his wand hand over it and said, without any hesitation, “Up.” It gave a jump; another repetition brought it to his hand. He rubbed his wrist, which it had smacked along with the palm of his hand, and turned it in his hand.
It was about as tall as he was and not easy for him to handle. He got it turned around, though, and, once he found the cushioning charm, got on it in the position he thought was right, with the handle of the broom rising up in front of him on a diagonal in a way which reminded him of the knight figures he’d seen in expensive chess games in shops, ones that looked like they were on rearing horses instead of just like horses’ heads. Leveling out, he’d need to bend his knees backward, he thought, while straightening his back so he was sitting up again, all while moving forward, and he didn’t know the exact rate at which he’d be moving forward….
He shrugged and kicked off the ground.
His feet rose above it far more quickly than he’d expected, and around hanging on for dear life with both hands, he found just enough time to wonder if he could really kick that hard or if brooms had some enchantment on them that made them do that. Then, shaking in his skin, he leaned forward and thought for a second that he was going to fall as the broom leveled out and then kept going, sending him toward the ground. He had slowed a bit, though, in the second he was level, and, realizing that his momentum was almost certain to increase rapidly if he kept diving and that he would end in a crash if that law of physics was in working order and that a crash would be bad, he pulled up on the broom handle again and this time managed to stop himself in time to get in a more or less upright position while the broom moved slowly forward.
He looked at it nervously for a minute, catching his breath, then began to laugh. “And that will settle the Manicheans!” he exclaimed, and took one hand off the broom long enough to smack it, though he thought the better of the gesture when it made the broom start to go sideways. Swallowing, he tried to stop laughing, still flushed and grinning even as he realized all the movements had almost certainly been a lot less dramatic than they'd felt at the time, as only about two minutes had passed and he was no more than ten, fifteen feet off the ground and must have looked like he was just fooling around in a very strange way. He hadn't yet learned what Manicheans had thought that Aquinas had thought needed settling, or how the Doctor had settled it, but he guessed the line would do now that he'd said it, hopefully without anyone hearing, though he thought one of his classmates was looking at him. Probably because of the laughing. Stupid adrenaline.
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John Umland, Aladren
I like the name 'Applied Physics' better.
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John Umland, Aladren
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Clark Dill, Aladren
August 11, 2014 5:35 PMClark Dill, Aladren
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Nathan
Age in Post: 12
Birthday: Who knows? But he celebrates it in November
2nd Year Crashing the Class by Clark Dill, Aladren
"Take flying lessons for as long as they'll let you or until you feel you aren't getting anything out of them anymore," had been the advice his father had offered Clark on the subject of Flying Lessons as a non-first year. It was technically an optional course for second years, though almost nobody took it anymore once they got their grade at the end of first year. Clark had learned to fly on a toddler broom and while he didn't get up in the air as often as he liked - he lived in a muggle dense apartment complex in Maryland - he could fly one about as well as he could ride a bike.And given that his dad never had learned to drive a car - Why would I waste good money that can be used on better computers on an automobile, nevermind the ongoing maintenance costs for fuel and repair, and then, after all that expense, get rewarded with hours stuck in soul-sucking traffic when I can just wave a wand and teleport?" - biking was a fairly standard method of transportation for him.
Still, he'd missed half a year of flying lessons last year due to the Heads cancelling most of the dangerous things during the No-Professors time. Teaching people who had never flown before how to ride brooms apparently fell into that category. So even though he had an O on his report card last year for flying, he still showed up for it again this year, just to get some more practice in so he could do the Aladren team proud.
When Professor Olivers released the experienced fliers from the basic lessons, Clark headed over to the collection of balls and grabbed one roughly the size of a tennis ball. Ideally, he would have liked to practice with a snitch before the Aladren try-outs where he hoped to become the next Aladren Seeker, like his Dad before him, but snitches and bludgers were both banned from flying lessons. As they were both alien creatures - one highly intelligent tricksters and the other semi-feral beasts - he could understand why the professor didn't want to deal with their possible antics around eleven year olds who may or may not actually know what they were doing.
As he grabbed his broom one handed from where he'd left it on the ground and casually launched up and mounted it like he was stepping over a low fence, he saw one of said eleven year olds take off, go down, and rise again before leveling off. Seeing he was a fellow Aladren, Clark approached the younger student in time to hear him say something - the exact words weren't quite loud enough to make out at that distance - and then laugh. Clark grinned, too, pleased to see a potential teammate enjoying flying, even if he wasn't entirely steady yet on the broom.
"Hi!" he called over, flying closer to gain conversational distance, "Half-blood?" he guessed, smiling to make sure the other boy knew he was judging his flying quality not his worth as a human being. Most male purebloods were pretty proud about being able to fly, and muggleborns would be down with the professor learning how to say 'Up' With Intent. "I'm one, too, but a second year," he added, so the first year would feel he was in friendly company, but wouldn't feel entirely outclassed by Clark's flying skills. Clark had been a better flyer than that at the beginning of last year, but there was no need to rub that in. "I'm Clark."
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Clark Dill, Aladren
2nd Year Crashing the Class
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Clark Dill, Aladren
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Not as easy as it looks! by Theo Dashland, Crotalus
To say his heart hadn't been beating a thousand beats per minute would've been a lie the moment it left Theo's lips. He had been dying to begin his courses at Sonora and the whole night prior to his first day had been filled with restlessness and over thinking as he unintentionally refused sleep. Sadly, this was the one class he had nothing but anxiety for and there was good cause too. Theo's father had played quidditch all throughout schooling and two of his older brothers had carried out proficient spells as some of Sonora's best players at the time. To Theo, quidditch wasn't a sport, it was the biggest test he'd have that year.After listening thoroughly to Coach Olivers, Theo looked on dismally at the broom that lay just beside his feet. It's rigid body filled with wear and scratches of what Theo assumed was years of use. He imagined the dozens of students that must've commanded it's movement, the dozens of leasers it had already seen and submitted control to. 'Can a broom retire? or quit? What it Theo's broom didn't want to come "up"?' Theo began to sweat underneath his robes.
He looked around at some of the success already being had by the other students of his group. They made it look so simple. Theo thought about how he was most likely being paranoid and, while his brief bout of courage was swelling inside of him, he stuck his hand out stiffly and said "up!"
To say the broom didn't move would be an understatement. If negative inertia were a thing, it was happening right now, about three inches to the right of Theo's foot. He stared intently at the broom, willing it with every bit of passion and control he could muster and once more demanded, "Up!"
Once more the broom laid tauntingly in his shadow, mocking Theo from some unknown mouth. Theo glanced sheepishly at Coach Oliver, whose attention was focused elsewhere, and hoped deeply that the rest of his first day would not go so poorly.
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
Not as easy as it looks!
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
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OOC by Coach Olivers
Great to see you posting in flying, Theo! There's just a small logistical problem with the claim that Theo's dad and older brothers were the best Quidditch players during their time at Sonora.DH Skies posted a post about retconning that you might want to take a look at. You can find it here. Trying to squeeze in alumni family members into Sonora history who weren't written then complicates things for other writers with alumni. It's fine to say that Theo's dad was a great Quidditch player at Sonora back in his day as long as he attended Sonora before the site itself was active, but less realistic to say that his brothers were since their attendance at Sonora would have been during the time of other alumni. Take a look at the retconning post and let me know if you have any other questions on the OOC board!
Other than that, your post looks great. Have fun posting!
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OOC
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Coach Olivers
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John Umland
August 13, 2014 7:01 PMJohn Umland
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 11
Birthday: September 23rd
You're never too old to learn. by John Umland
John was a great believer in doing what the available data supported, and so far, the data he had collected at Sonora Academy seemed to support the hypothesis that he should not try to hypothesize about other people’s backgrounds. When another guy asked if he was a half-blood, John’s involuntary, adrenaline-inspired grin had begun to fade a little, but instead of trying to knock him off his broom, the other guy quickly clarified that he was one, too, and introduced himself, just as Taylor had made him suspicious with a remark about belonging at the Feast and then told him she was Muggleborn. He had been wrong two times in as many days, making it seem possible both that he really did – might – fit in about as well in Aladren, at least, as Julian had said he would and that he was not yet on par with Holmes in the fields of observation and deduction.He still made a mental note to try to remember to look up what percentage of the human body actually was composed of blood. If the wrong sort of person did ask, whatever their problem was, he wanted to not only make a sarcastic remark, but to make a scientifically accurate sarcastic remark. Any kind of science babble would fool most wizards (or, really, most people in general), but John didn’t like risking it. At home, someone who said something that couldn't be backed up was just asking to be mocked by those who knew the facts about the subject discussed. There was almost always at least one around.
“John,” he said, pointing to himself. “First year. And, uh, yeah, half-blood, more or less.”
He couldn't say it with absolute certainty even about himself, but John was pretty sure no one's ancestry was literally exactly fifty percent Muggle, fifty percent magical. In his history lessons, Mom had said intermarriage (and other relationships) had been a lot more common before the Early Modern period, and history was just so long that it seemed inevitable that everyone alive now, if a researcher could just go back far enough, would have either a Muggle or Squib or wizard in their family tree somewhere, from marriage or random genetic mutation or something. It was one of the many reasons that the word ‘pureblood’ annoyed him maybe even more than the words ‘Muggle’ and ‘Squib’ annoyed his mom. Not only was it offensive, but it was almost certainly inaccurate.
"I guess between us we almost make a whole wizard," he joked, thinking of what Mom said about his label. She didn't like that one, either, because it implied half-bloods were somehow incomplete, not really wizards, and it bothered her to think of Paul feeling like he was an object that couldn't fulfill its purpose or of John and Joe not feeling like they were as magical as everyone else. Luckily, John didn't think his brothers felt that way and knew that he didn't. "It's a really stupid word no matter how you look at it. But how did you know?” he asked, dragging his attention back to the important part, wondering if Clark could pass along the secret to accurate assessments before he got a chance to offend somebody with another inaccurate one. "Did I say a half-blood thing and not know it?" he hazarded a guess. His mom did well, but she was Muggleborn, and sometimes, there were common things in both worlds that she just didn't know because of that. Nothing serious, but for all he knew there were all kinds of secret half-blood code words he used all the time without knowing it.
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John Umland
You're never too old to learn.
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Clark Dill
August 13, 2014 10:02 PMClark Dill
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Nathan
Age in Post: 12
Birthday: Who knows? But he celebrates it in November
That is my philosophy as well by Clark Dill
John. It was such a common name Clark was afraid he'd forget it before the end of class, so he mentally dubbed the first year 'Little John'. Clark was tall for his age and consequently most first years seemed quite little to him, so it seemed a good way to help him remember, even if the legendary Little John was not so little.He grinned more and laughed as John humorously objected to the most common terminology (well, the only terminology Clark was familiar with) used for a person of mixed magical blood. "Hmm, I'm not sure splicing ourselves together would be a practical solution. And I'm also not sure exactly how much wizard I've got in me, either, so there's a good chance I may not contribute a whole half." He knew nothing at all about his biological mother, after all, and his biological father wasn't even human never mind a wizard. Clark supposed he could even technically be muggleborn.
He frowned slightly as he puzzled over the matter, instinctively adjusting his hold on his broom to make his flight pattern match John's. "What does a second generation muggleborn count as anyway?" He wasn't even aware that he was implying both of his parents were muggleborns. He was just curious about an interesting terminology twist and thinking aloud. "Are they still muggleborn or do their muggleborn parents count as a wizards and witches? I just say half because that's how I'm raised: half-magical since we have a potions lab in the house and mostly use magical modes of transport to get anywhere, but half-muggle because that's the kind of school I went to and the kind of neighborhood I live in. And dad's a NASA researcher with both muggle and magical degrees in Astronomy and Astrophysics."
"And I figured that was what you were, too, because you knew enough about flying to skip the lesson but not enough to be good at it." He realized belatedly that that might have come out a little bluntly, so he quickly tacked on, "No offense meant." He winced, feeling bad that he may have insulted the younger student, and shrugged apologetically before continuing, "That's kind of the half-blood domain. We know enough about magic that we're not completely out of our depth, but not enough for it to be entirely second nature."
He grinned cheerfully again, and added, "Also, another good indicator that I use a lot, but not the one I used for you, is footwear." He shook his foot out between them so John could see the beat-up old pair of Nikes he was wearing. "Whole wizards don't wear brand names and muggleborns and half-er, um, mixed bloods? blended-background? people who normally wear muggle footwear don't generally bother to get fancy new wizarding-style shoes for school since they're not part of the uniform and not as comfortable."
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Clark Dill
That is my philosophy as well
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John Umland
August 14, 2014 3:46 PMJohn Umland
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 11
Birthday: September 23rd
Philosophy can be quite consoling. by John Umland
John shook his head as Clark said he didn’t know the full details of his family tree, either. “Guess we’re out of luck, then,” he said.Absently, he wondered if it would even be possible to splice two people together magically. He couldn’t think of a good reason to do that (for a second, he considered two people who’d both lost big parts of organs or something, but about five problems with that idea occurred to him at once), but that didn’t meant it was impossible. People thought of useless things all the time.
Clark distracted him from the thought by bringing up something more interesting for him to puzzle over. “I don’t know,” he said, frowning as he thought about it. Clark’s point was a good one; he really wanted his notebook now so he could write it down. The social and word definition stuff he’d leave to Mom – he was pretty sure there was a way to twist all that around so it made the purebloods look even stupider, which was always fun – but the other part, about what the kid of two Muggleborns was, would be another thing, if he could find people like that to take DNA samples from, to test when he either had access to equipment in college or, if worst came to worst, no longer had the Trace on him and could therefore break into a lab without getting caught….
When he heard that Clark’s dad had a degree in astrophysics, he was again distracted enough that it took him a second to realize what he was supposed to be offended by. “Oh, er, none taken,” he said, waving the issue aside.
He then looked at his shoes. His mom disliked running shoes (they were, like telephones, one of those Muggle things she said she had just had an aesthetic objection to even before she found out she was a witch) but he usually ended up wearing them anyway, both because they were more durable than nicer shoes and because they were supposed to be better for a lot of things that Mom, doubting his insistence that he usually knew what he was doing, thought of as at least moderately dangerous. She had gotten him slip-ons to wear in the building, but as he was outside the building, he was also wearing worn athletic shoes now. “Huh,” he said. “That makes a lot more sense than my first theory.” Occam’s Razor was not one a piece of equipment John excelled at using. He went back to something more interesting again. “But you seriously have a potions lab in your house and your dad’s an astrophysicist? That’s cool.”
He shrugged slightly. “My mom’s Muggleborn, too, and her degree’s in English – concentrated in medieval literature. Dad’s family doesn’t really keep up with how magical everybody is, but Mom’s the first one like her in a while, I think….We live in a city, too, though. All the neighbors think my parents are insane and one of my friends thought I was going to reform school when he heard there’s no telephones or Internet here.” He chuckled and shook his head at the memory, which felt like it was from more than less than a week ago. “I’ll have to ask Mom if she knows anyone, how’d you say it, second-generation, or if there’s a word for that – she'll probably know. Sometimes she writes papers and pamphlets and stuff about how, y'know, Muggleborns and half-bloods are as good as anybody else. I'm going to collect some biology and chemistry to help her to back it up with someday.”
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John Umland
Philosophy can be quite consoling.
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John Umland
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Uzume Shinohara
August 18, 2014 2:57 PM
Not as bad as I look. by Uzume Shinohara
Since she had woken up that morning, Uzume sensed it would be an off day for her. As the coach introduced herself and started the lesson Uzume couldn’t help but think back to earlier that morning when all her troubles had begun. While getting dressed, Uzume had discovered western style attire neatly packed into her trunk. At first she wondered if it was an error, for her grandfather absolutely detested the idea of her wearing such outfits. However, Kaede who had been charged with packing her luggage, never made mistakes, it was the reason the house elf had been kept around for so long. She wasn’t sure what this meant, however, seeing as the opportunity was there, she would be a fool not to accept it. Not missing a beat Uzume picked out a pair of blue shorts, and a ruffled yellow top, not caring if it would be considered fashionable to her peers, and bounded off, wearing for the first time in her life, western clothing.So now here she was, attending a lesson dressed like an American girl. It was an oddly liberating feeling, drenched with undertones of suspicion. Just what game was her grandfather playing? The fact that she couldn’t understand the man’s thinking annoyed her greatly, so much so that she could barely focus on what the professor was saying. Although she was quite confident in her abilities, it had been a while since Uzume had ridden a broom due to a variety of reasons all caused by her grandfather. By the time the experienced flyers had been released she was still standing, completely lost in thought, looking as if she was a beginner.
Although she didn’t need the lesson, she did need a broom. Her family had given her a specialty made broom especially for side-saddle ridding, however she would rather catch herself on fire (including the broom itself) then ride something so degrading. After all, the only reason they had wanted her to ride side-saddle in the first place was due to WAIL. Uzume grimaced at the thought. The more she studied American culture the less she understood how exactly they were the “land of the free”.
Although Uzu could have simply walked out during Coach Olivers’ speech, she didn’t mind the lady. The teacher hadn’t done anything to annoy Uzu yet so she thought she may as well stick around, if only to see what type of teacher she was. In addition if Coach Olivers thought she was a beginner she may be graded more easily. It was a win, win.
When Coach Olivers released the beginning class to being flying. Uzume confidently turned to her broom. Getting the broom up would be easy, but she didn’t want to seem too good. She hoped that if she commanded the broom in English that it may not respond to her as fast, giving her the appearance of a novice. Looking down at her broom she held out her hand and confidently said, “Up”. The broom responded by jumping slightly on the ground. “Perfect” she thought to herself, pleased with the little trick she was playing.
She then noticed her neighbor who, apparently, things were not going so perfectly for. She had heard the boy utter ‘up’ twice and saw both of his failures out of the corner of her eyes. She felt a little awkward standing there, knowing full and well that with one word she could show up the boy. Despite her feelings regarding less talented students, she decided she would be kind and help the poor boy.
“You know you are supposed to try and move the broom right?” She said dryly. Uzume wasn’t very good at being nice to novices. “Do you want some help or something?” She asked genuinely offering her assistance. She felt bad for the creature, especially since he was a boy and a new flyer, how utterly embarrassing. “Or are you just pretending to be that bad?” she added, realizing that he may be trying to hustle the teacher as well.
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Uzume Shinohara
Not as bad as I look.
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Uzume Shinohara
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A Small Bluff by Theo Dashland, Crotalus
Theo was sincerely and utterly frightened when he heard the voice of the girl next to him slice sharply at his feeble attempts. He knew that telling her he actually couldn't use the broom was going to out him as a novice and make him look like a fool. Being that it was his first day, Theo decided that may not be his best first impression."Ha! You seriously think anyone is that bad? I can fly circles around this place, but that would mean more work and more effort than I'm inclined to commit to a course like this." Theo stated courageously. He knew it was a lie, and he figured it would only be so long before he had to show how false that statement was, but for now he hoped he'd saved some pride.
He stood quietly for a moment, observing the girl and waiting for a response, any sign she'd accepted his bluff. For that moment everything was slow, the kind of slow that moves backwards, that drags along the inside of your lungs, sticking to every breath you take. It seemed like much more than the few seconds it actually was.
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
A Small Bluff
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A little Advice by Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
“Oh really?” Uzu said admiring the boy’s spunk, even if saying such things out loud could easily get him into trouble. “Well if you are trying to get out of work, you better show a little more effort. Might get called in by the teacher for extra lessons if you look that bad,” she stated. Even thought she was doing the same thing, Uzu tried to show a little effort.“It’s funny though, you looked just like I did when I first tried to fly,” she said with a little giggle as she quickly became lost in her memories. “The first 3 days I couldn’t even move my broom an inch, luckily my dad gave me some advice. He said it’s like when you move your arm,” she stated as she gracefully stretched her arm out before herself, “you know its going to do what you want. It's the same with flying right? You must have confidence, in your actions.”
“Up,” she then said clearly as she placed her hand over the broom. It hesitated for a moment, and then shot up to her hand, leaving a stinging sensation in her palm. She grimaced, her English still wasn’t perfect, and worst of all was affecting her abilities. In Japanese the broom wouldn’t have hesitated as it did, nor would it have shot up with that much force. She wondered if it wasn't just the language, but perhaps her ablilities. It had been a while since she had touched a broom, perhaps she just wasn't as good as she thought? Either way, it was unacceptable in Uzu's eyes. She would have to make up for this setback later.
Realizing she was still lost in thought, she turned to the boy, trying to shake her worries. “But in the end, each person has his or her own muse when it comes to flying. I wouldn’t want to bore you with my own technique if you don’t need the help,” she said remembering how bored she felt during the opening feast when an upperclassman had lectured her on etiquette.
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Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
A little Advice
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Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
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5
Fake it Till You Make It by Theo Dashland, Crotalus
Every time Theo would try to get a word in edgewise with this girl, a new flurry of words would arise from the depths of her throat. He didn't mind, even if she hadn't believed his bluff, she was giving him almost all her pointers in one accidental story. At least Theo assumed it was accidental, there was every possibility this young power house had done a favor for Theo, giving him all he'd need without actually making it seem like she'd helped.Once the newcomer had seemed to finish, Theo finally took a chance to speak.
"Yes, really, and you can put the credit of believability to my one year at theater camp I suppose. Although you make a good point about the extra lessons, wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm anything less than what I say." Theo threw the slightest hint of a wink and smile in the direction of his new company and quickly ran over the points he'd just learned.
He looked at the broom, every nerve ending in his body thinking- no, knowing that this was no mere object, it was an extension of everything he was, just the extra length to his arm. His shoulders a little taller, his chest slightly puffed, Theo called commandingly to the broom, his arm outstretched above it's shaft. "UP!"
For the two seconds it took to move, the broom seemed stiller than anything Theo had ever witnessed. All of time slowed around it right before it leaped. The entire broom jumped willingly off the ground and flew directly in to Theo's hand. He almost dropped it from the force but he made sure his face showed no signs of pain or surprise.
Theo stepped boldly towards the girl standing beside him and, with his unoccupied hand, reached out to her, inviting a shake. "I'm Theo, critically acclaimed broom handler. And you?"
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
Fake it Till You Make It
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
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5
Joella Curtis
August 21, 2014 4:49 PM
An informal scrimmage? by Joella Curtis
It was with a great feeling of excitement (something she had frequently been feeling of late) that Joella made her way to the Quidditch Pitch. She had been eagerly anticipating this subject all day. It wasn't the idea of a lesson in flying that had excited her so but the thought of finally being able to show of her skills as well as check out any first year competition she may encounter at the Quidditch team try-outs.Joella listened carefully to Coach Olivers words whilst eyeing up the school's brooms. They were of course nothing compared to her own but Joella was in no position to complain. Where would that land her? She certainly didn't want to make an enemy of Coach Olivers. The brooms looked rideable at least and, to be honest, that was all that was required.
It was with no hesitation that Joella made her way to the other end of the pitch with the rest of the experienced flyers. She found no disappointment in hearing that the Snitch and Bludgers were unavailable for the lesson for all she cared about was the Quaffle anyway. She was slightly daunted by the amount of experienced flyers (or students who claimed to be as such) but didn't let this show as she confidently picked up a Quaffle. With the Quaffle tucked under her skinny right arm, Joella selected a broom and mounted with ease before setting off around the pitch.
She wasn't perfect but then again what kind of eleven year was? However, today seemed just as good a day as any and Joella sped along. She wasn't one to show off just for the fun of it, although as she looked around her she could see she was better than many, but in her naivety believed that showing her love for flying by being skilful in the air might gain her friends who shared that passion.
After a couple of fast yet controlled laps, Joella landed both feet back on the ground. "So, who's up for an informal scrimmage?" she grinned, quoting the suggestion Coach Olivers had given, with the intention of gaining the interest of anyone within earshot. Joella chucked the Quaffle up in the air and caught it, waiting for a response.
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Joella Curtis
An informal scrimmage?
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Joella Curtis
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5
Aiden O'Neil, Teppenpaw
August 21, 2014 9:34 PM
Just a casual stroll through the air. by Aiden O'Neil, Teppenpaw
Aiden was unbearably excited for his lessons to start. He was not a person who enjoyed learning. He did okay in his lessons during his tutoring sessions, but his parents said he could do better if he paid attention. That was always Aiden’s problem; there was always something more interesting for him to look at. He was happy about classes mostly because it meant that he was going to be able to meet new people. His parents had allowed him to join in with family gatherings, but that was about all the socializing that he had done as a kid. This was the first time where he would really be immersed around people his own age.Aiden was exactly what the definition (or, at the very least, the expectation) of what a Teppenpaw was and by his friendly smiles and open demeanor, it should not have been a surprise to anyone that he had been sorted into that particular house.
When Aiden made it down to the Quidditch pitch for the first flying lesson, with his broom in hand (his mother had made him bring his own as she was afraid the school was still using the old school brooms back when she was a student), he was slightly huffing from the walk down. His school robes were making him feel warm too, which had his pale face looking slightly flushed on his chubby cheeks. He looked forward to being in the air and allowing the wind to cool him off some.
His mother had said that Quidditch had been all the rage when she had been in Sonora as a student years ago, but Aiden had seen the Quidditch signup sheet in his common room and it seemed to suggest that it was no longer that popular. Aiden enjoyed watching the games, but he had no interest in playing (much to his mother’s relief), which was probably for the best of everyone as Aiden was not all that athletic with the extra bulk he sported and not always so present mentally. But he hoped that the sport was still popular enough for games so that Aiden could go support them.
At the pitch, Aiden listened dutifully to the Coach as he had done to all staff throughout the day (as well as portraits whom were kind enough to help him find rooms after he became lost) while she explained her expectations and what they would be doing for the day. Aiden was surprised to find that those who had experience were advised that they could go off on their own. For some reason, he had assumed they would all be working together. Because of his promise to Eva during the opening feast, Aiden didn’t move too far away from the beginners. He figured, after she made the first few steps of getting the broom to her hand and then getting into the air, he would assist her with the flying if she wanted it. He thought the coach’s instructions to the beginners had been adequate, but he was certain that having never done anything like this, it would take time to figure things out and it might become overwhelming.
On his broom, not too far from where Eva and the other beginners were but not too close to get in the way either, Aiden hovered above the ground and observed everyone around him to pass the time. Occasionally, he would fly around in cir cles so that the coach knew he was doing something, even if it was only aimless flying. He wasn’t paying much attention to anything in particular, so it came as a little surprise to him when someone was flying near him. “Hello!” Aiden called out, smiling politely to the other flyer. “I’m Aiden O’Neil or the Northeast O’Niels, how are you enjoying flying lessons?” He asked.
OOC: This post is open to anyone, but it does not exclude Eva. Eva, please feel free to join in if you would like.
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Aiden O'Neil, Teppenpaw
Just a casual stroll through the air.
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Aiden O'Neil, Teppenpaw
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5
Araceli Arbon, Crotalus
August 23, 2014 5:08 AM
Think confident thoughts by Araceli Arbon, Crotalus
Araceli could have got a decent enough education at home. Her family had traditionally home-schooled their children and would probably have been quite happy to continue that way had it not been for her. Three daughters meant finding three suitable men for them to marry. When you had a son and heir, people queued up at your door, but no one was so pressingly keen to take girls off people's hands. Effie had been sent to Sonora in the hopes of securing good connections for the family and, as it had been determined to have not had a warping effect on her values, it had been deemed that Araceli should follow in her footsteps. So, that was why she was here; to meet suitable people and eliminate the risk that she would forever be a burden on her family. That required her to talk to people, preferably in a way that didn't make them think she was ill-mannered, socially-incompetent or simply subnormal in some way. It was a task that was proving much beyond her capability. She had never been a confident person and the pressure of making a good impression hampered her still further. She wanted to speak to people, really she did, but it had to be in the right way. If all the words didn't desert at once, then her throat seemed to tighten up so that, on the rare occasion when she felt she knew what to say, she still couldn't. She was sure her year-mates had already formed the impression that she was strange and silent, or defective in some way, which just added further pressure... The first time she spoke had to dispell all the negative impressions they had already formed of her. She was sure there were no words that powerful.Miserably, she made her way to flying. Classes were proving torture, as she struggled to get any commands out. She always sat in the furthest corner, failing to get very far and having to hope that people simply wouldn't notice her. Anyone who had must think she was virtually a Squib, which would drag not only her name but her family's through the mud. She was sure they did notice though, during the conspicuous silence when her name came up in roll call. She wasn't sure how many classes she'd been marked absent from even though she had attended them all so far. Since the enforced braids of the Opening Feast, she had left her hair loose, and, with her head kept down, existed as far as possible in a private world, curtained off by the straight blonde locks.
She let her name go by in roll call, though she listened carefully to everything Coach Olivers said. She hovered at the edge of the scrum for school brooms and was left with last pick, a very tattered looking thing that she was sure her family would be ashamed to see her riding. To her it was a plus though – perhaps people would blame the broom and not her when they saw her struggling. She glanced surreptitiously around when the coach asked about side saddle. The jury was out on what was correct these days... Some girls had raised their hands. Shinohara had not... But, though the girl was her room-mate, Araceli didn't know whether she was pure, so she copied the others, though raising her hand only very minimally, and not effectively enough to be noticed. She couldn't exactly call out to Coach Olivers to come back to her though, especially when it was her own fault for not being clear enough in the first place. Even with her hands, she couldn't communicate something so simple.
When they were set to work, she leant over her broom, hoping that her hair would hide her face from those around her. Maybe that way, she could convince herself they weren't there. It hadn't worked so far, but in class people were so close to you. You could practically feel them brushing against you, so it was hard to block them out. Maybe out here.... And, if she couldn't, at least shielding her face would stop them from seeing that her lips weren't moving. Around her though, the clear and confident shouts rang out, along with occasional sounds of wood smacking against people's palms. She couldn't forget that she was surrounded by people, and that they could all manage what she could not....
'Up!' she thought at the broom, furiously but silently begging it to obey her. Magic was intention after all, the words and wands just made it easier. Maybe if she willed things hard enough, she could manage without speaking. She knew though, that that was very advanced magic and here she was, a none-too-impressive beginner. But this was something simple. This didn't even need a wand. Did that mean the words mattered all the more, or that it would be easier to do it just by thinking it?
'Up! Up! Up!' she hoped, holding her hand out and yearning for the broom to leap into it. But it stayed put. And the longer that went on for, as all her classmates became airborne, the more conspicuous she would be. She pictured her year group, hovering around her, with only her left on the ground... Coach Olivers would have to come over then, and try to help her. She'd ask Araceli to show her what she'd been doing, and then it would be clear that she wasn't doing anything, not doing what she was supposed to, and the entire class would be watching her, just waiting for her to speak....
Up! she thought, wishing with every fibre of her being to prevent the utter humiliation she had just envisaged. The broom rolled slightly. Araceli jumped. Perhaps it had just been the wind. It probably was. But if it hadn't been, then maybe there was hope yet.... She extended her hand over the broom again and was about to start thinking at it as loudly as she could, when she was interrupted...
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Araceli Arbon, Crotalus
Think confident thoughts
290
Araceli Arbon, Crotalus
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5
Agreed. by Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
"Yes, really, and you can put the credit of believability to my one year at theater camp I suppose. Although you make a good point about the extra lessons, wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm anything less than what I say,” the boy said. Then to Uzume’s surprise he winked slightly at her. She couldn’t help but smile. He seemed interesting, and the slight possibility that he may not be a complete bore intrigued her. After he managed to get his broom up he surprised her again when he stepped closer in the hopes of a hand shake."I'm Theo, critically acclaimed broom handler. And you?" the boy asked, a little too friendly for Uzume’s liking.
She had always prided herself on her wits and knowledge, yet at this moment she felt utterly confused about how to proceed. Does she stoop to his level and use such common greetings, or rise above and put the boy in his place? It’s not like she cared what he thought of her- nor did the head of her family for that matter. If her grandfather had cared what these people thought, he would have addressed her on whom she ought to befriend, clubs she should join, or even would have had the courtesy to say goodbye before she left. In the end she decided she still ought to show a little class. After staring at the hand for a moment, she finally reciprocated the gesture with a delicate hand. She preferred a bow to a handshake; however, she figured ‘when in Rome do as Romans do’.
“How do you do? I'm Shinohara Uzume. Nice to meet you,” she said clearly, deciding to stick with her usual formalities. She declined to participate in the silly American custom of stating one’s residence due to the boy not doing so either, and was really quite thankful of that- it really was a silly custom.
“So Theo,” she as she noticed a few of the girls mounting their brooms. “I do hope you don’t follow the ridiculous American ideology that female witches ought to ride side-saddle,” she asked testing the boy. In Japan, side-saddle was only really used when wearing a kimono, and as Uzume was wearing shorts today, it seemed- like several other American traditions- rather pointless. Regardless of what his reply, she hoped to find out just what type of wizard she was talking to, and if he would be interesting enough to be worth her time.
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Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
Agreed.
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Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
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5
Something Different by Theo Dashland, Crotalus
Theo knew something was different about this girl after about two seconds of holding his hand in an empty and stale greeting. He also realized that it wasn't out of spite that he had yet to receive any kind of answer to his extended palm. Theo had spent enough time doing it himself to know when he was being sized up, and this girl seemed as if she was most definitely sizing him up. He wasn't exactly sure why, but Theo liked her. She wasn't eager to please, she wasn't faking some ignorant hospitality, she was precise and strategic.Some small part of her must've held interest in Theo as well because what finally broke him from the line of thought he'd drifted to was her hand delicately reaching out to his. The grip was light, but not weak, more... exact? Theo wasn't sure but he could tell this girl thought out every move.
She surprised Theo with what she said next "So Theo,I do hope you don’t follow the ridiculous American ideology that female witches ought to ride side-saddle." It was more of a statement than a question but he knew that there was an answer expected of him. Theo also figured that this topic wasn't of severe interest to Uzume, but just a creative way to once again figure out the little details that were Theo. Theo thought for a very small moment before responding.
"Of course not! If I were to beat you I'd want to know I did it because of my outstanding prowess on a broom," Theo smiled at this blatant lie, hoping Uzume wasn't against some playful sarcasm. "Not because you had to ride around half on the broom the whole time." Before she could respond, Theo spoke once more.
"So Uzume, I do hope you don't follow the ridiculous ideology that all Americans follow the same ridiculous ideology, there are a few of us that don't totally suck you know." Theo knew this was a bold step, teasing her even though she most obviously held more power in the conversation; but if she was looking for something about Theo that stood out, he'd gladly supply it. he stood tensely for a moment, awaiting her response, knowing it would be just as calculated as everything else she'd done so far.
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
Something Different
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
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5
Different is good. by Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
Uzume was quite content with her company for the time being. He was at the very least a good conversationalist, much more so than her roommate. Uzume had yet to hear Araceli utter a single word, unless one counted her giggle during dinner the previous night- which Uzume did not. In addition, the boy was quite bold, a quality she didn’t see often enough."Of course not! If I were to beat you I'd want to know I did it because of my outstanding prowess on a broom," Theo said with a smile, "not because you had to ride around half on the broom the whole time."
The boy didn’t disappoint, although she wouldn’t have written him off right away if he had agreed with the American ideology. It was just more interesting that he didn’t. Unfortunately, due to English being her second language, sarcasm was not Uzume’s forte. Her interpretation of Theo’s speech was that he was challenging her to a fair race. In a seconds time, Uzu’s mouth formed into a huge grin, not because she was crazy about flying like some people, but because with challenges came friendly wagers. There was nothing she loved more than a gamble, especially if she was going in blind of her opponents abilities. She was about to take him up on his offer, when the boy spoke once more.
"So Uzume,” the boy boldly uttered, completely forgetting his manners, “I do hope you don't follow the ridiculous ideology that all Americans follow the same ridiculous ideology, there are a few of us that don't totally suck you know”
She instantly blushed at the sound of her given named being used so commonly. Although growing up she had male friends that she felt close enough with to entrust her given name, that was back when she was ‘Jun’ not ‘Uzume’. She hadn’t even allowed her own roommate to use her given name, and now here was this American boy being so informal with her. She had heard Americans were forward, but this was a little bit too much culture shock for her. She quickly attempted to hide her embarrassment by glaring at Theo. Unfortunately, her almond eyes made her look more like a mischievous kitten, than a threatening lady.
“Well its hard not to believe such things with Americans like you,” Uzume said trying to keep her emotions steady, “being so forward when we have only just met. Or are you saying that you think we are close enough to use my given name?” Like her roommate, the boy was so pathetic, with absolutely no common sense. She felt their ignorance could be quite exhausting. After sighing deeply she continued, this time talking more to herself than him, “Although, I suppose it was my fault for assuming you knew of any culture besides your own.” She didn't honestly mean the comment as an insult, if anything it was her pointing out her own fault. Although she wasn't going to be apologizing for anything either, it was him who had been so rude. Looking at Theo once more, she pondered if she should cast him aside, or hold onto him. He wasn't boring, that was for sure, but should she be gracious enough to overlook his mistake?
“Address me as Shinohara,” she finally said after a moments pause. “Or if you really feel the need to be so informal with me, you may call me Shino,” she added, her cheeks still rosy from earlier. She figured she should give the boy a little slack. After all, she should have been strait from the start and told him how to address her. These people were turning out to be a lot of work, she just hoped they would be worth it.
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Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
Different is good.
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Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
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5
Getting Out of a Hole by Theo Dashland, Crotalus
If Theo's cheeks turned any more red, they'd be turned permanently scarlet. He'd known he'd messed up and it seemed as if it was bigger than he'd thought. Shinohara seemed... to put it bluntly, pissed. It was only the large grin she'd displayed right before her brief anger that gave Theo hope for some kind of redemption."I'm so sorry..." Theo stated sheepishly. "I just thought- you see I-... I have a friend from Japan and he always told me that the first name comes second... I suppose he left out the part about formality and proper greetings..." Theo's mouth was more than dry, it was arid, it was parched, it was all of the things you'd expect to be when you accidentally insult someone you'd just been hitting it off with on your first day of class. It didn't help that his lame excuse had been so... well, lame.
As embarrassed as he was, Theo was certain that he couldn't let this end here. This girl was smart, and she was the first person to talk to Theo in this frighteningly new place. He wasn't going to let a slip screw it up. He took a quick, deep breath, looked his companion in the eye, and hoped he could make amends.
"I'm sorry. It was improper and informal of me to make the assumption I could use your given name." Theo, knowing it was a risk, bowed gently to the girl in front of him. "It's nice to meet you Shinohara. In the future, maybe you can help me come to a better understanding of how foolish I'm going to make myself before I actually do it, it's the kind of help I should've had about 12 years ago." Theo understood the danger in resorting to humor so quickly again, but it was what he knew, and what he was good at. He hoped this girl was forgiving enough to let a little wit go a long way. He gave Shino one of those smiles that doesn't come with teeth and anxiously waited whatever fate awaited him at the next time she spoke.
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
Getting Out of a Hole
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
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5
Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
September 02, 2014 5:40 AM
...and into the sky. by Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
The boy’s reaction, scarlet face and all, had made her feel quite pleased with her outburst. Theo had gotten a taste of his own medicine and, she hoped, felt as embarrassed as she had. She had always hoped that the first person to use her name would be someone she could call a best friend, or even a lover if she was lucky enough. She knew it was a childish illusion to think such things, but from time to time she did allow herself the pleasure of believing such whimsical nonsense."I'm so sorry..." The boy stated, "I just thought- you see I-... I have a friend from Japan and he always told me that the first name comes second... I suppose he left out the part about formality and proper greetings..."
This peaked Uzume’s interest. There were not too many schools for young wizards in Japan, so she couldn’t help but wonder if she had known Theo’s friend at some point in time. It was a thought that interested and horrified her all at the same time, so much so that her heart skipped a beat. The world really was a small place, too small in her opinion.
"I'm sorry. It was improper and informal of me to make the assumption I could use your given name," Theo said as he bowed gently in front of her. Uzume smiled lightly at his gesture, content that she had found such an interesting boy among her classmates. Not just because he was groveling before her, but because something about him made her feel at ease. Then again she was never especially good with interacting with other girls, they could be a little too petty and dramatic in her opinion.
"It's nice to meet you Shinohara. In the future, maybe you can help me come to a better understanding of how foolish I'm going to make myself before I actually do it, it's the kind of help I should've had about 12 years ago,” he smiled.
“That’s enough Theo,” she said patting him on the head as if he were a dog. “Just don’t make me admit fault again,” Uzume said, indicating she held no grudge. It happened, and now she moves on, simple as that. “And for future reference, I’m not going to enable you by indicating when you are being foolish,” Uzu stated with a hint of playfulness. Although, she hoped there would indeed be plenty more times where she could see Theo be so funny, if not slightly idiotic. “I think you figured that out for yourself pretty quickly anyways.” This time it was Uzume who gave Theo a wink, she had to add a little sweet to the sour.
Moving her attention elsewhere, she placed both hands onto her broom, positioning herself on it in preparation for her take-off. However, before kicking off she turned to Theo and gave him another smile. “So, Mr. Fast-Flyer, let’s get going,” she said hoping to reinstate the challenge from earlier. “That is, unless you are all woof and no bite.”
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Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
...and into the sky.
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Uzume Shinohara, Crotalus
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5
Could've Been Worse by Theo Dashland, Crotalus
Between Shino's slight smile at his bow and the wink she slyly sent his direction when she was done speaking, Theo felt he'd safely evaded the peril that laid before him. He was going to give a snarky remark to the pat on the head Shino so blatantly placed there. It was a sign of ownership not friendship, but Theo had already stood on thin ice once and he felt now might not be the time to go arguing her every move. Anyways, Theo liked this girl, she was witty enough to not put up with some of Theo's usual antics and she seemed genuinely interested in him. That was enough for Theo to ignore the small displeasure and embarrassment he'd suffered.He was about to retort with another playfully sarcastic remark when Shino prepared her broom and reiterated the accidental flying challenge Theo had made earlier. If Theo thought the embarrassment was anywhere close to over, Shino had taken a route that was sure to further every possible failure Theo could go through at that moment. His hands began to sweat as he contemplated her question.
In his head, Theo realized he had two options. Say something ridiculously translucent and excuse himself from flying (which would only get him a shaming from Shino) or, he could get on the broom that floated patiently by his side and rethink his stance on praying.
Theo grabbed the broom strongly with both hands. "Ladies first." Theo flashed a smile that oozed confidence and gestured invitingly into the air in front of them. Every part of his insides hoped he was randomly struck by a meteor in the next three seconds. Theo didn't have high hopes for that happening.
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
Could've Been Worse
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Theo Dashland, Crotalus
0
5
Katherine Procter, Crotalus
September 05, 2014 8:55 PM
Retaking the course, just in case by Katherine Procter, Crotalus
There was a part of Kitty that felt incredibly silly to be retaking her flying lessons during her second year (it was primarily a first year course), but her first year was far from what anyone would deem normal. As there was a lack of professors for a great deal of the beginning of the year, flying lessons were cancelled, and Kitty felt that she needed more help. Flying was not something she had known was possible outside of an airplane before she was accepted into Sonora, and she hardly had any experience with planes or airports.Grasping her school broom with both hands, she took a steadying breath, and forced herself to be as calm as possible. From what she had learned from her research in the theory of flying and her minimal classes the year before, the brooms could practically sense fear, much like a dog. Rather, as close to "sense" as a household cleaning instrument could.
Finding a spot near the back with the others who have had some experience flying, she set her broom on the ground to her right. She extended her arm and opened her hand, saying as firmly as she could manage (which even surprised herself at the level of confidence her voice conveyed), "Up!" and the broom leaped into her hand. She smiled, grateful it worked the first time around this time (embarrassment would not do her any favors when she was about to challenge the laws of gravity).
Perching herself on the broom sidesaddle, she arranged her robes around her, and pushed a lock of chocolatey-colored hair behind her ear. It is just like riding a horse, and you have plenty of experience doing that, Kitty, she thought as she slightly pulled the tip of the broom up to gain height. Pulling out her wand, she conjured some large shimmering rings (a charm she found in a book called, "I'm Flying! A Guide to Teaching Yourself to Ride a Broom") to fly through. As she went through one ring, it moved a bit to keep her challenged.
Kitty was not the best flier, but she was feeling more confident with every ring she flew through. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone else flying nearby.
"You are more than welcome to use the rings, if you like," she told them. "Be careful, though, I am still trying to master this whole flying-thing."
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Katherine Procter, Crotalus
Retaking the course, just in case
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Katherine Procter, Crotalus
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5