No seat belts? on Quidditch Pitch

Coach Juliet Grase

May 20, 2016 2:50 PM

Flying Lesson! by Coach Juliet Grase

“Finally,” Juliet thought impatiently as she sat cross-legged on the grass at the edge of the Quidditch pitch, awaiting the crop of first years that she could see heading her way. Teaching flying lessons might not be the same as a game, but it was definitely an improvement over the lack of air time she’d been getting at this job so far. With the previous school year’s season being nonexistent, the closest thing Juliet had gotten to Quidditch was the physical therapy for her shoulder, or an occasional leisurely flight with Sophie. The progress dealing with her injury had been frustratingly slow, as Juliet was not a patient person and had pushed herself hard enough to do more harm than good on more than one occasion.

Today though, the pain was less enough that she had skipped on the sling and pain meds. Juliet was determined to prove herself a tough instructor, and eventually a referee that shouldn’t be messed with. She figured the tightly wrapped bandage that peaked out from under her tshirt at the collar and on her bicep would solidify her athletic reputation without attracting too much pity. She’d had enough of that from her diminutive cousin.

Levering herself off the ground with her good arm, Juliet greeted the cluster of kids that had formed around her with an enthusiastic smile. “Good morning, and welcome to flying lessons. I’m Coach Grase, but I’ll answer to Miss if you’re feeling especially respectful, or just Coach if you’re feeling casual. Before we get started, I have to do roll call, so if you hear your name say ‘here’ or wave so I can mark you down.”

Juliet made her way through the list of names, doing her best to connect each to a corresponding student. While usually being good at remembering faces, names were a different story. With the exception of her captain, it had taken Juliet half of her first season with the Great Lakes Dragons to learn the names of her teammates. She felt a pang of loneliness remembering them as she finished the list, but shrugged it off to get her students ready for today’s lesson.

“Alright now that that’s out of the way, any of you who have flown previously, get up in the air and do laps, or set up teams for a scrimmage. If anyone needs a quaffle for a game, I’ll issue one for you, but we’re not using bludgers or a snitch, no matter how nicely you ask me. Today is for basic coordination on a broom, and I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Juliet played up a flinch in her shoulder to reinforce the point and chuckled. She then turned to the students who hadn’t flown before.

“Now for the newbies! Okay, everyone grab a broom and set it on the ground under your dominant hand.” While her students collected their brooms, Juliet grabbed her own from behind the pile. Her 52 Comet model may not have been the top of the line, but it was sturdy and decently quick, and most importantly it was Juliet’s.

“Alright if we’re all settled now, place your hand out over the broom and say ‘Up!’” Juliet’s broom jumped up into her hand almost before she could get the command out of her mouth. She smiled down at it like an old friend, before looking up to watch her students all attempt this themselves. When all, or most, of them were holding their brooms, she continued. “Good! Now, mount and gently kick off the ground, hover for a few seconds, and then touch down. When you’re comfortable, go ahead and try a bit higher. There’s no shame in taking time to get the hang of this. Let me know if there’s any problems or if someone needs more help.”

OOC: Hey guys, welcome to flying lessons! Y’all should know how this works as well as I do, but just as a refresher; minimal 200 words, don’t godmod, more creative posts get more points, etc. If you need me for anything, just tag me and I’ll do what I can. Mostly just have fun!

Subthreads:

No seat belts? by Killian Everett - Pecari with Georgia Kirkly

Think happy thoughts by Arianna Valenti [Aladren]

0 Coach Juliet Grase Flying Lesson! 0 Coach Juliet Grase 1 5

Killian Everett - Pecari

May 21, 2016 11:05 AM

No seat belts? by Killian Everett - Pecari

Excitement and terror wove down Killian’s spine in an ever tightening braid as the minutes crawled by with all the speed of an anemic snail attempting to transverse a salt lick. He’d woken up hours ago, and couldn’t fall back to sleep, not when he knew what the morning would bring.

The First Flight.

Shouldn’t they have to read a manual first? Maybe take a written test. Have their eyes examined? Something?? It was more than a little insane that the school would hand out what amounted to flying motorcycles to a bunch of armatures and let them have at it. He’d made it a point to venture down to the pitch a few times after he’d signed up for Quidditch and watched as a few students practiced on their brooms. (Brooms! Honest to goodness Brooms, what would his mom say if she found out?). They were fast, way faster than anything he might have done on a bike if his mom ever let him have a one. Anyway, much faster than even the bike tricks on ramps he’d seen on TV and always wished he could try.

Now, his wish was coming true, and Killian didn’t know if he should shout for joy, or crawl under his bed and pretend he wasn’t a first year. He wanted to jump to his feet, run down to the pitch, and leap on to the first broom he saw. Go rocketing off into the sky, do loop-de-loops, fly as fast as he could at the ground and pull up at the last possible second, he wanted all of that. And yet . . . and yet, in the back of his mind, he could hear his mother’s whisperings. Don’t run so fast, you might trip and break your neck. Don’t climb on that! You’re going to break a leg. For the love of all things holy, Killian, are you trying to kill yourself? Don’t you know how badly you could get hurt? You aren’t as strong as other children. You have to be careful. You need to take care. Do you want to go to the hospital?

The endless litany played out in his mind as he made his way down to the pitch, and he didn’t even need her here with him to tell him how many creative and horrible ways he might die on this flying piece of wood with a bundle of twigs attached to one end. He’d probably end up with a broken neck for sure. Then he’d be paralyzed from the neck down and have to spend the rest of his life having his mother take care of him. She would lecture him every day about how he brought it all on himself, and if he’d just listened to her, he wouldn’t be a talking head she had to tend to.

Killian’s stomach tried its best to make like a pretzel and tie itself into a single huge knot as he took his place in the line of first years. “Here,” he managed to choke out when she got to his name. Then, to his secret horror, she didn’t even go over safety rules before instructing them.

Swallowing back his mounting terror, the first year held his hand out over the broom and snapped, “Up!” To his shock and surprised delight, the broom leapt into his hand like an excited puppy jumping up to lick his face. In spite of his fear, Killian grinned and mounted the broom. Maybe he wouldn’t end up maiming himself horribly today.

A tiny prayer slipped past his lips as he gave a small hop. Instead of coming back down, the way he had when he’d been given a stick horse for his fifth birthday, the wood of the broom held him aloft about two feet off the ground. Not for the first time since arriving at Sonora, awe-filled Killian. How did it work? Were brooms aerodynamic? What kept it up in the air? Well, duh, magic of course, but how?

Utterly fascinated by the stick of wood holding him aloft, Killian leaned over the side, wanting to get a look at the bottom, wanting to see the empty space beneath him the way a crowd at a magic show wants to see the magician wave his hand beneath the girl hovering in the air above the stage. In his zeal to get a better look, Killian overbalanced. With a startled yelp, he slid off the broom, lost his grip, and fell flat on his back. Air exploded out of his chest in a pained woof, and he coughed, trying to catch his breath.

At least I was pretty close to the ground, he thought as he glared up at the broom floating innocently in the air above his face. Then he noticed it was drifting upwards without him. Dang it all! “Ha,” he started, only to cough again. Once he’d caught his breath, the broom was about six feet above him. “Hey,” he said to the person next to him. “Can you grab that?”

0 Killian Everett - Pecari No seat belts? 354 Killian Everett - Pecari 0 5

Georgia Kirkly

May 22, 2016 4:42 AM

Not getting far enough to need one by Georgia Kirkly

Georgia wasn’t good at sports. At least, she believed herself not to be. In truth, her aim wasn’t much worse than anyone else’s, and she could kick and hit decently hard. But fat people weren’t good at sports. That had been made abundantly clear to her again and again by the way Libby and her gang giggled at her every time they had to get ready for gym class, or always picked her last for teams, and it was true that she wasn’t a super fast runner, and that was the easiest way to judge because - unlike hitting a ball - there was a clear first, second and third, and a last, when you ran a race. She would much rather have curled up with a movie than go out for a bicycle ride or a pick-up game with some friends, so all in all, she classed herself as “not particularly sporty.”

That shouldn’t have necessarily put her off flying class. After all, it was as much a means of transportation as it was a vehicle for sports, but given that you didn’t get driver’s ed at eleven, it was much easier to equate this as being the magical equivalent of gym class rather than life skills 101, an impression not helped by it being taken by the Quidditch coach. Georgia still hadn’t fully worked out what Quidditch was, other than that everyone was obsessed with it and it was in no way going to involve her.

She made her way to the pitch, already feeling self-conscious due to the association with years of ridicule in gym class. She answered the roll call and listened to the coach’s instructions. It didn’t sound awful…. Like, what she asked sounded kind of simple. They just had to learn the basics, “in their own time” - which meant as fast as everyone else thought you ought to be able to, in order not to get laughed at. It still had the potential to be embarrassing but at least they weren’t being pit against each other in games or races yet.

She took a broom, tentatively, wondering what would happen if it just did nothing, like had happened when she’d first tried Transfiguration. And she couldn’t help but think how small and skinny the broom looked. She remembered when they’d gone horse riding with school and Libby had said she felt sorry for whichever horse had to have a big lump like Georgia sit on its back all day. What if the broom couldn’t lift her off the ground, or she snapped it in half or something? Sometimes, when Georgia looked in the mirror, or looked at other people around her, she thought she really was… ok. She wasn’t skinny, and probably never would be but she was ok. Around average. A bit plump. But remembering all the snarky things Libby had said about her, it was hard not to feel like an absolute whale that was just going to crush anything she sat on.

“Up?” she tried, the word coming out more like a question. The broom did nothing, and Georgia felt her face go red, especially as around her brooms started jumping to hands, or at least twitching and trying.

“Up? Come on… up… please?” she tried. But nothing happened. The boy next to her was already kicking off, and she paused to watch as he took to the sky, and the promptly fell out of it.

“A-are you ok?” she asked, as he coughed and struggled to get his breath back. He seemed to recover though, and seemed more concerned about his broom drifting off.

“Um, I don’t know,” she admitted awkwardly, a blush colouring her cheeks. He was going to think she was so useless. “I don’t think my broom really likes me,” was that a dumb thing to say? That was probably dumb. The brooms didn’t think. Or did they? They did things when people asked. Or at least, some of them did, and it was starting to feel decidedly personal when hers didn’t Maybe it had an opinion on her. Maybe it didn’t want to be ridden. Maybe it thought she was too fat. “I mean, I can’t get it to do the ‘up’ thing. How did you do it?” she asked.

13 Georgia Kirkly Not getting far enough to need one 346 Georgia Kirkly 0 5

Arianna Valenti [Aladren]

May 26, 2016 5:45 PM

Think happy thoughts by Arianna Valenti [Aladren]

Flying was supposed to be about the sky, obviously. Therefore, Arianna was surprised to see the teacher sitting on the ground. She hoped this didn't mean that this was going to be a lecture lesson. Gabe had worked really hard with her this summer to get over her fear of heights (which somehow excluded the high-rise she grew up in) and get down the basics of flying. The Aladren first year was really looking forward to finally getting to show her new skills off. Her long dark hair was in a French braid today, and she was wearing a maroon varsity-striped hoodie with black athletic leggings and the white adidas with the black stripes she had saved all summer to purchase. She was feeling very flight worthy.

But perhaps the instructor was not, she thought, eyeing the bandage that peaked from her shirt warily. The injury certainly did not inspire confidence. How could Arianna expect this teacher to keep her safe, when she couldn't even protect herself? Perhaps she could convince the Headmaster to allow her to continue private instruction with her cousin. Gabe had a way of making everything seem pleasant and making Arianna feel safe as she could be on broom.

She waited through the roll call, until finally her name came, second to last, exclaiming, "Here!" Years of roll call in normal school had given her the uncanny ability to know just when she needed to tune back into the list, and it served her well here.

Finally, Coach announced the plan for today, and Arianna smiled. She was glad to be in the category of students who had flown before, despite that only first having been over the summer. It was still a better situation than having to struggle in front of her entire year. She was also glad to get away from the Coach and her injury, which served as a reminder of the dangers Arianna would soon face.

Picking out a broom with neat bristles, she set the broom on the ground, and raised her right hand, commanding, "Up!" The broom seemed to activate immediately, promptly jumping into Arianna's grasp. Taking an authoritative tone had never been a challenge for the first year, and this was perhaps her favorite part of using a broom.

The next part though, not so much. She pursed her lips - which tasted like cherry chapstick, to protect them from wind - together and tossed her braid over her shoulder. With a deep breath, Arianna threw her left leg over the broom. Commanding the broom was simple enough, and actually being in the air was fine, but there was something about kick off that always freaked her out. It was so goofy! Kicking off from the ground and expecting to just float up, and stay there, felt like a child's game. Of everything she had studied at Sonora so far, this reminded her most of her little sister's bedtime stories. How could fairytales successfully keep her suspended in the air?

But freezing up now was not an option. The longer she waited, the more awkward it became if she did not take off. With one more inhale, she braced her knees, struggled not to close her eyes, and pushed off.

She was gaining height, a little faster than she was used to under Gabe's supervision. Her heart started to pound against her chest, as if ready to abandon ship, but she remembered what her cousin had said. Flying was all about balance, about shifting weight. Leaning forward slightly, she leveled off about ten feet off the ground, and continued into a lap around the Pitch. Her flight was steady and even, if a bit slow, but she was proud to see her turns were smooth.

Yes, she was actively choosing to fly at a leisurely pace.

Of course she was not afraid to accelerate.

Or look down.

She tossed her braid behind her - she was getting in her own head again, something Gabe had explicitly taught her not to do. Arianna Valenti was in need of a distraction.

"Hi," she called out to the person nearest her, "want to fly together?" Maybe they could even race. A little competition always helped her focus on being her best.

0 Arianna Valenti [Aladren] Think happy thoughts 343 Arianna Valenti [Aladren] 0 5

Killian

May 30, 2016 2:44 PM

You aren't missing much by Killian

Killian gave one last glare at his rebellious broom, still drifting over his head at a height he knew was just out of jumping reach, before he turned to regard the girl next to him who seemed to be having her own issues.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, still feeling a little breathless, but putting it aside in favor of the new puzzle.

When they’d been told what to do, Killian hadn’t even considered the brooms might not respond, no more than he’d think a microwave wouldn’t cook his Pizza Rolls when he pressed start. In his mind, he thought the word up was the equivalent of an on button, instead of a command. But now he could see other students having similar troubles with disobedient brooms. Forgetting all about the floating menace above their heads, Killian knelt next to her broom and gave it a sharp poke. Maybe it was broken?

He considered her words. “Well, maybe? I thought brooms might be like bikes, you know? But maybe they’re more like horses.” It was strange to think of a piece of wood as having feelings, then again, they were dealing with magic, so who knew? A grin split his lips and a forelock of brown curly hair fell into his equally brown eyes. With a small huff, he brushed it aside. “After all, if a potion can judge us and put us into different houses, why can’t a broom have feelings?”

“Scoot over a sec, let me give it a try,” without thinking much about it, he nudged her gently out of the way and held his hand up over the broom. “Up,” he commanded, and like his broom, it leapt to his hand. “Hmm,” nodding he dropped it and moved out of the way before waving her back into place. Still not bothering or even thinking about asking for permission, he reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it out over the broom. “Let’s try together,” he said, keeping his hand over hers. “On three, one, two, three.”

“UP!”

0 Killian You aren't missing much 354 Killian 0 5

Georgia

June 19, 2016 6:32 AM

Let's find out by Georgia

The boy was neither hurt, nor was he laughing at her for what she’d said about the broom. It was hard regarding something that looked like a piece of wood as being animal-like, but she liked horses ok, so it wasn’t super intimidating, just a bit weird… She just sorted of nodded to his question about if Potions could judge them, why couldn’t brooms have feelings. She thought it might be one of those questions that the person didn’t really want to be answered, which she always forgot the word for, like ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

“There’s definitely some odd things here,” she added, feeling confident that given this boy’s apparent lack of knowledge on how things worked, he definitely wasn’t one of Those Sorts of Purebloods.

He had no problem getting the broom to him, and Georgia tried to work out what he’d done differently. But before she could give it too much thought, he was trying a new strategy, grabbing her hand. Boys and girls had tended to form opposite tribes at her elementary school, and there was definitely talk that the other side had cooties (although this had been giving way recently to which boys were cute). However, she didn’t think much of this boy grabbing her hand, because the problem in the past was always everyone else’s reaction to such events, rather than the act itself. And, this time, when he called the broom - her words stumbling along beside his - it worked. She had the feeling it had more to do with him than her, but as she held the broom, it still seemed happy to hover for her.

“Thanks,” she smiled at him. Although now she was faced with actually trying to fly the thing, which was mildly terrifying. She looked at his broom which was just out of jumping height. Awkwardly, she jumped with the broom, reaching for his. At first, it was just like when you normally jumped. You felt yourself springing upwards. Only then you just, kept going. There wasn’t a down. Georgia had been reaching for the broom as she took off, and managing to wrap her hand clumsily around that held her attention first. It was only once it was done that she was able to notice the lack of the fall back to Earth. It had been convenient for getting the broom, but now she wanted to go back down. She tried to angle herself towards the ground, although got the direction a little on the steep side and, unused to the sudden movement of the broom, ended up losing her balance and falling over as she landed. But she was down, and with both brooms and all limbs still intact.

“Here,” she said, holding his out. “What now?” It had been a curious feeling, and she couldn’t say she was totally against giving it another go...

13 Georgia Let's find out 346 Georgia 0 5

Killian

June 22, 2016 9:49 AM

I suppose by Killian

A grin pulled Killian’s lips back when the broom leapt obediently into her hand. He loved it when a plan worked the first time. Though he still didn’t know why it hadn’t worked for her, or if it would work for her without his help, for now, he was happy with the fact that she’d be able to rescue his own stubborn piece of flying wood.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, returning her smile with another beaming grin. Standing back, he watched her give the same awkward little hop he’d done before his sudden reintroduction to the ground. A cheer broke from his throat when she captured his wayward broom before he realized flying might be trickier than they’d been led to believe as the girl almost crash landed while returning to the ground.

Killian accepted the broom and held out his other hand to help her back to her feet. “Wow, that was amazing, great job,” he said, glad that she’d been able to retrieve it without doing too much damage to herself. All around them, other kids were getting up off the ground, flying, laughing, chasing each other.

“Now?” Another dazzling grin threatened to split his cheeks. “Now we fly!”

A bold statement, he knew, but he wasn’t about to let one little false start put him off, not when the whole sky was open for their exploration. “This time, let’s try not to fall off,” he said as he mounted for the second time. Closing his fingers tight around the handle, Killian took off, still hopping like an overweight goose with diaper rash, it wasn’t the most elegant of takeoffs, but he successfully made it into the air.

“Coming?” He asked as he looked down at the girl. “I’m Killian by the way,” he offered, belatedly remembering that he hadn’t told her his name.

0 Killian I suppose 354 Killian 0 5