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Post by Aiden Shover on Apr 3, 2012 14:59:10 GMT -5
Aiden's broom had finally gotten back from the team's specialist and it was finally a good day outside and he finally had an evening free to go to the pitch. He even had a quaffle and of the few charms he could do well, one was to make the ball fly at the goals. Come the weekend he would have his first practice with the full team and he couldn't help but feel jittery whenever he thought of it.
Rather than carrying a bare broom down to the pitch, he was walking across the swooping lawns holding a hard case in one hand, the broom strapped safely inside. Under his other arm was the old beat up quaffle his dad had given him. It wasn't an heirloom and it wasn't perfect, but it meant a lot to Aiden that his dad was getting involved.
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Post by Brindle Sterling on Apr 3, 2012 16:25:18 GMT -5
Brindle was sitting on the grass at the edge of the pitch, an old school broom laying in her lap. She had her wand out, some twig trimmers, and a couple other tools from her broom repair kit, and was working determinedly to make the thing usable. Even the best one in the shed had splinters and rough spots, but the broom itself was still intact. It wasn't cracked, wasn't badly warped from being used in foul weather, and she hoped that if she got it fixed up, she could hide it somewhere and no one would notice.
She was thrilled at the weather finally perking up after months of wind and rain, and the occasional flurry of snow, and dangit, she was taking advantage of it. She rubbed at the broomstick, nearly finished polishing it. It would never have the shine of a new broom, but at least she could tear around the pitch without getting poked in the ass.
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Post by Aiden Shover on Apr 3, 2012 16:33:45 GMT -5
"Working on a school broom?" Aiden asked. "Good luck, I don't have the patience for that." He was incredibly lucky that after his first year on the team he had had his own broom, and a darn good one at that. Now, he didn't want to show off his newly returned broom, but he was proud of the thing. He set the case down in the grass by the girl.
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Post by Brindle Sterling on Apr 3, 2012 16:46:27 GMT -5
"I don't have a choice," Brindle replied, then looked up, her gaze only making it as far as the broom case before following it down. She hadn't seen a broom worth putting in a case since Aimé Célestin had been at Hogwarts, and he'd flaunted his. "Is that yours?" she asked. For the moment, his name was secondary. Besides, he was familiar enough that maybe she'd just remember who he was.
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Post by Aiden Shover on Apr 3, 2012 16:57:02 GMT -5
"Yeah, just got it back from the team. He had to check for...what the hell did he say?" Aiden paused in lowering himself to the ground before shaking his head and shrugging. "Well, whatever he had to check for, he had my broom for two weeks," he said, sitting cross-legged in the grass. It didn't matter if it had been two weeks with weather unsuitable for flying. There had been a distinct lack of broom in his dorm room.
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Post by Brindle Sterling on Apr 3, 2012 17:03:27 GMT -5
"Team?" Brindle asked, sure it had been a slip of the tongue, that he'd meant teacher. Hogwarts had professors, but she'd heard Muggle-Borns call them teachers before, so it was pretty much the same thing. She looked up from the case now, trying to place him. She knew the hair, but didn't think she'd ever actually spoken to him, and wasn't sure they had classes together.
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Post by Aiden Shover on Apr 3, 2012 17:25:17 GMT -5
"Appleby Arrows, I'm on the reserve team this year," Aiden said. He flicked up the latches that held the case together and the lid swung open. The case lay flat on the ground. On one side lay the broom, snapped in with dragon leather straps and on the other were compartments holding various supplies. His fingers drifted over the polished wood lovingly.
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Post by Brindle Sterling on Apr 3, 2012 17:31:14 GMT -5
Brindle's eyes lit up. "You're serious?" she asked, though it wasn't much of a question. She looked at him with infinitely more interest now, her mind evaluating how she might compare in tryouts. It was what she wanted to do, and though her goal was an all-girls team, she couldn't help getting excited at the prospect of being so close to any team. "So are you a seventh year? And how'd you get in?" She bit her lip to keep from spewing out the rest of her questions all at once.
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Post by Aiden Shover on Apr 3, 2012 17:41:38 GMT -5
"I'm seventeen, still in sixth year, though. I tried out last summer and got the letter in August," Aiden explained. "You're Brindle, right? I've seen you fly, you're good." And she was quite possibly the first girl outside his house he had met that was comfortable on a broom and good in the air.
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Post by Brindle Sterling on Apr 3, 2012 18:52:57 GMT -5
"Thanks," Brindle said, grinning at the compliment. "I play beater on the school team. Or I would, if they ever had a game. My last school, Quidditch was huge." She paused a moment, looking at him. "I'm sorry, I've seen you around, but I don't know your name." And she really wanted to, especially if he was going to be an Arrow. They might not be her team, but they were good.
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Post by Aiden Shover on Apr 3, 2012 18:57:53 GMT -5
"Aiden, I'm not on my house's team anymore," Aiden said. "I'm keeper, chaser if I have to be." The battle for the position of keeper was ridiculous and half the time he ended up playing as his second choice, even if he knew he was the better player and should have gotten first pick. But at least this way he was able to show he was competent in more than one position.
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Post by Brindle Sterling on Apr 3, 2012 19:04:36 GMT -5
"I played Chaser at my old school. Girls usually don't get Beater," she added, with a roll of the eyes, "but it's not all about muscle mass. All the boys quit, or I wouldn't have stood a chance." Yes, she was skinny, and yes, she was fine-boned, as her mother put it, but she was also very in touch with her body, and she knew how to make every motion count.
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Post by Aiden Shover on Apr 3, 2012 19:22:13 GMT -5
"Girls can make good beaters," Aiden said. Well, as long as they weren't holding a grudge against anyone on the team they were good. "It's all about technique. If you're some muscle bound idiot that tips the bludger every time it's not going to do the team much good." There was a reason most of the professional beaters weren't muscle bound.
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Post by Brindle Sterling on Apr 3, 2012 19:30:05 GMT -5
"Well, I've got technique," Brindle said slyly. Since she'd started her martial arts classes, her quidditch had improved, and she was sure there was a relation. "So how did you get to try out? I hoped the coach would be able to help, since he used to play, but I think he quit." They didn't even have a coach anymore, let alone one with connections.
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Post by Aiden Shover on Apr 3, 2012 19:45:03 GMT -5
"I got damn lucky," Aiden said. "This scouting guy happened to come by the school during one of my games and saw a practice session and the game itself. He said he was impressed and got my information. A few weeks later he came and put me through some paces, then he met up with me and my dad to set up a try-out with the team." His dad hadn't really known what was going on, but had understood enough to not be completely lost.
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