RATIOS

GRYFFINDOR
20
HUFFLEPUFF
13
RAVENCLAW
18
SLYTHERIN
12
HOGWARTS
12
MINISTRY
19
MAGICAL
20
MUGGLE
1
FEMALES
51
MALES
62
NONBINARY
2
TOTAL
115

NEEDED: CANONS, PROFESSORS, HUFFLEPUFFS,
HOGSMEADEANS, AURORS, LADIES

APRIL2021

S
M
T
W
T
F
S
1
2
3
4
6
8
9
10
11
13
18
19
20
21
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
NEWS

09.09 - March OTMs are here!
09.02 - April events are here!
09.02 - April update is here!
08.26 - March OTM submissions are here!
08.05 - March update (moving forward) is here!
07.20 - HFTA Challenge number 3 winner is here!
07.14 - Plot update is here!
06.24 - February OTMs are here!
06.17 - March events are here!



APRIL 2021
The Wizarding World is once again free to move as it will, but those liberated from the barrier are not the only ones taking full advantage of their newfound liberation and mobility. Danger roams free...and hides in plain sight.
APRIL 1-30 NOW OPEN

  C L O S E DTOPIC      POLL 

» 13 March 2021 || Flight of the Bumblebee, Open!
Robin Westfall-Moore
 Posted: Jul 11 2017, 04:47 PM
QUOTE     
FIsh is Offline
33
posts
11 years old

First Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Early March was a time when Robin should have been obsessing over the start of the racing season, pouring over a dozen magazines and making bold predictions about who was going to win what. That was on top of preparing for her own racing season, helping out with her dad's cars (which mostly involved adding stickers and making the tea if she was honest) and pretending her schoolwork didn't exist. This year, however, she'd be doing precisely one of those things. With the barrier up she couldn't even have her parents send her the magazines (or anything else for that matter, she was starting to have serious irn bru withdrawal symptoms), let alone attempt to keep up with all her sports. Honestly, the one drawback about Hogwarts was the way it stopped her taking part in the one sport she figured she actually had real flair for.

Wizard sports were another matter entirely. At first she'd been annoyed by quidditch, the way a game seemed like it'd be decided before anyone stepped onto the pitch just by the quality of their equipment and that skill would play little part in it. The same could be said about a lot of motorsport of course, though Robin would argue for days on that particular subject. She was starting to come around to the game however, in part because it was the only way she could experience any kind of speed before the summer holidays rolled around. Flying lessons were getting on her nerves, she didn't feel she was allowed to actually push herself, explore the limits of the elderly equipment she'd been given to learn on, or even to find out how good she really was.

Which rather explained why she was out here this evening. The pitch was empty, the school brooms were easy to get access too now she'd mastered the alohamora charm, and she had a good few hours to kill before curfew. That should give her a chance to let her hair down and see just how badly the months of inactivity had dulled her reflexes, if she didn't just spend the whole time flying around as fast as the old broomstick would go.

Grinning, the young Slytherin stepped onto the deserted pitch and took a moment to look around the stadium. She didn't know how many rules she was breaking right now, nor did she care, she just wanted to know if she was anywhere near as good on a broom as she was in a kart. Maybe this stupid wizard sport would do as a term time distraction from the carer in racing cars she still dreamed of.

After a moment's pause, she mounted the elderly broom and kicked off from the ground the way she always did in lessons. A single lap of the stadium at a low level to get the feel of this particular broomstick, and she'd start going higher, faster (if that really applied to this old thing) and weaving in and out of the posts a bit. Maybe there was something to this flying lark after all. She just needed a much, much faster broom to actually make it as interesting as throwing her kart around at something approaching seventy MPH.

As engrossed as she was in flying around the pitch, ginger hair streaming behind her and a huge grin on her face as she finally got the chance to stretch the legs of the decrepit old broomstick, she didn't even realise she wasn't as alone out here as she thought.
MESSAGE     
^
Tristan Nott
 Posted: Jul 16 2017, 10:11 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
251
posts
16 years old

5th Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Saturdays were always full beyond for Tristan, and this one had been no exception. It felt much later than it was, despite how many hours there was before curfew. He'd already been down to Hogsmeade with Dominique, who had agreed as long as he promised they wouldn't linger past two. The village had been busier than he'd expected, having forgotten that the owner of Honeydukes was giving away sweets that day to students. Tristan had planned to purchase some anyway, and despite having never been left wanting for extra spending money, would certainly take free chocolate. After he had picked up what he'd gone for in the first place (new gloves and twig clippers for Quidditch), they'd gone back to the castle. Tristan happened to think he'd been pretty gracious not mentioning how jumpy Dominique was on the path, but he couldn't even call attention to this stellar example of friend behavior-- he had been too busy distracting her from her fear with stray elbow nudges and stealing her scarf.

Hours had passed since then and he'd already done his homework for the weekend, intending to spend Sunday on the pitch for as long as he could, but he couldn't manage to stay away until morning. Instead he had grabbed his broom and the gloves he needed to break in before this month's game, picked up his--Sawyer's--bat, and headed up to the pitch to fly. Branwen mewed her protest, but he picked up the small black fluffball with one hand and dropped her in Dominique's lap as he walked by, leaving them with a mischievous grin and little else.

When Tristan finally stepped out onto the pitch there was just one girl putting around on an old school broom; a small firstie, maybe second year at most. Unable to recognize her from afar, Tristan paid her almost no attention. He glanced long enough to note red hair, and the chances that meant Weasley of some kind were pretty good. You could not throw a rock at Hogwarts without hitting a Weasley, though Tristan imagined Dominique would probably frown at him for it, spoiling all of his chances to enjoy spontaneous rock throwing. Instead of bothering himself over who was sharing the pitch with him (yes, he had gotten there after but as soon as he arrived it became his), Tristan picked up his bat and set an old, battered quaffle on the ground, then kicked off and took to the sky.

He'd always liked American brooms. They were larger, powerful, and he was tall. They suited his stature well and flew in a way he had come to appreciate, and so Tristan had purchased the best Starsweeper he could find. After completing a quick few laps, he slowed enough to catch a glimpse of the girl struggling to make the battered old broom go just a bit faster. She wasn't a Weasley at all, but rather one of the ones who'd been sorted Slytherin at the start of this term, which meant she was appropriate for a little minion or hopeless fan, and likely little else. They did have some reserve spots on the team, now that they had to replace a few players, but the thought hadn't immediately come to mind. Fill the team with firsties? What were they, Gryffindor?

"Little ginger! Aye, you. Merlin, you're only a little dwt, you are." He shook his head at the quality of the broom, but grinned when he saw that she had been enjoying her flight. "What's your name, Westerly something? Tristan Nott." He lifted his chin, the pride he had in his name evident from the smirk that played at the corners of his lips. Tristan very much assumed she should know who he was, whether from Quidditch or their common room or his surname, he was not exactly a quiet presence at Hogwarts. Still, he offered his name for her benefit, so she could gracefully disguise her embarrassment if she hadn't a chance to learn who he was yet.

He tilted his head, his smirk broadening into a full, genuine smile. "D'you think you can fly well enough to keep a hand off that sad, abused old stick? I want practice, I've got an old quaffle, and you're not doing anything more important. Toss it at me a few times, will you, and I'll teach you some if you do well...including which of the school brooms are less tragic than the others." Less a request than a nicely-wrapped demand, Tristan took his wand from his jacket and summoned the old quaffle to them, tossing it to the girl. "I'll hit it back," he lifted his bat, "and you dodge. It's only a quaffle, but if you think I carn hurt you with a quaffle, you'd be wise reevaluate."

@Fish
MESSAGE     
^
Robin Westfall-Moore
 Posted: Jul 19 2017, 05:12 PM
QUOTE     
FIsh is Offline
33
posts
11 years old

First Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


The faster Robin tried to go on the old school broom she'd 'borrowed', the more convinced she was that flying into a headwind would send her backwards, probably faster than she was going right now. The kart she'd beenr acing when she was eight could probably outdrag it, and she'd have given pretty good odds it'd corner better too. She was having real problems working out why the school kept such worn out equipment hanging around when the place was filled to the brim with wizards, surely they could fix the things up, or replace them with something that wasn't quite so useless?

Slow as the thing was going, it took her a while to loop around the goalposts at one end of the pitch, and by the time she was facing the direction the older boy was in, he'd already taken to the air. She was fairly sure he was on the house quidditch team, but she'd also admit she'd never actually managed to pay attention for more than about half an hour of a game even when she had gone to to watch them, so it was hard to say. Still, he didn't seem to want to bother her, so she wasn't going to bother him. She half expected him to tell her to go away and leave him the pitch, so being ignored was far preferable.

His quick few circuits of the pitch easily lapped the antique broom she was still trying vainly to coax some kind of performance out of, and she couldn't help feeling irritated at that. Almost as much as she was when he started speaking to her. "A little what?" the Scot replied, manoeuvring her broom towards him so she didn't have to shout. Not that she could keep up if he didn't want her to, much to her chagrin. "Westfall-Moore." she added with a look of mild surprise that he'd actually noticed a muggleborn firstie existed, even if he didn't know her name. "Robin Westfall-Moore. You actually play this game, right?" She gestured vaguely at the goalposts and tried not to think about how much she'd heard of him was actually true, or why he might be spending what she was sure he considered valuable flying time chatting with her.

Oh. He wanted help training. That made sense, and she gave a shrug in response. "I can spit faster than this thing flies. If I couldn't stay on it one handed I'd probably die of shame." she bragged, figuring that having spent so long racing karts and developing her reflexes and skills that way meant she'd have no issue with the stick. balance wasn't really a problem either, she'd had her flying lessons the same as anyone else. "So I can do that, no problem." she added, although her catch of the quaffle was clumsy at best. She managed to hold onto the ball though, and took the old broom a short distance away from the boy before she tossed the thing at him (only slightly aiming for his head. He had made that last instruction sound like a threat after all.) Tiny as she was, she wasn't going to get a lot of force behind it, but she hoped her aim wasn't too terrible. And that she wasn't too focussed on tossing the thing to dodge the return.

Who knew, maybe if she impressed him enough, he'd put in a good word for her at next year's tryouts. No team would want a firstie on a school broom, surely.


@Cassandra

This post has been edited by Robin Westfall-Moore: Jul 19 2017, 05:12 PM
MESSAGE     
^
Tristan Nott
 Posted: Jul 22 2017, 10:29 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
251
posts
16 years old

5th Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Tristan waved his hand dismissively, deciding not to bother explaining harmless Welsh to the girl on the old school broom. Of course, she hadn't much choice--firsties weren't allowed their own brooms--but he knew the ratty old things never made for a very pleasant experience. "That's a mouthful, innit? Robin, then." he decided with a grin. Tristan had never understood why some families chose to hyphenate their names. As wrapped up in legacy and tradition as pure-blooded families were, it seemed insulting not to be able to decide which family's name to bear, or to imply that a person wouldn't record their lineage in such a way that they would remember the other. Most importantly, it was just too much effort for surnames that mattered very little to not at all in pureblood society. Would that change, when he took control of his House? He wasn't sure where he would take the Nott family now, and it was far too much thinking to be doing on the Quidditch pitch anyhow.

"Aye, I play Beater. D'you know how it all goes?" he asked, hefting his bat up to rest against his shoulder as he hovered nearby. He was going to tell her either way, of course. "I hit the iron ball that chases players around the pitch to try and break them in half. It's a swing of the bat, and either I mean to break some bones or protect one of ours. Broke a leg and some ribs over in Ravenclaw, last game." Lifting his chin, Tristan's proud smirk made it very obvious that he felt brutalizing his fellow players was an accomplishment. The Herald had mentioned particular trouble containing Nott. If there were any Beaters who didn't think such viciousness was an accomplishment so...they were probably Hufflepuffs.

The laugh that chased her brag was not meant to be a cruel one. Tristan was perfectly capable of being cruel when he wanted to be, but he appreciated firsties who had more confidence than they probably should have. He had always been stuffed full of confidence, and it hadn't gotten him anywhere but ahead. "Good. There's one with a broken off handle that the Hufflepuff Seeker always tries to steal for games. Carn imagine why she uses a school broom for matches but it's a bit less tragic than the rest. Give that one a try, next." he suggested, following her catch of the quaffle. Robin hadn't asked for tips, but Tristan had never considered himself a person who needed to precede their opinions with a request for permission. If she was on the pitch, it was only natural that she would be interested in Quidditch, which he considered to be easily the best game in the world. There was nothing more exhilarating than flight, and the feeling of his bat connecting with the bludger to send it on its murderous hunt for others who raced through the air with him. It didn't hurt that he looked amazing in his Quidditch robes, as well.

"Bring the Quaffle to your chest when you catch it," he suggested, but had little time for anything else before she'd tossed it in his direction. Her aim seemed alright--certainly enough for him to connect with the bat despite the ball sailing a little high. He grinned, wondering if she'd done so on purpose before smashing his bat into the quaffle to send it hurtling back in her direction. Then, he paused to see if she'd get out of the way in time. He hadn't swung quite as viciously as he knew he was capable of, but then, she was only small, and he wanted to get a few swings out of this mini practice.

@Fish
MESSAGE     
^
Robin Westfall-Moore
 Posted: Jul 25 2017, 05:27 PM
QUOTE     
FIsh is Offline
33
posts
11 years old

First Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Robin simply shrugged as he commented on her name. It never seemed that complicated to her, it wasn't as if she had titles or was the fourth of her name or anything like that, and it was only double barrelled. She'd been at primary school with a girl who was unfortunate enough to have a quadruple barrelled name, so maybe her perception was just warped and wizards didn't do that sort of thing. "Robin' fine, 's what everyone calls me anyway." she replied with another shrug, feeling like she was stating the obvious there. Probably not the best way to impress someone like him.

"I think so." she began in response to his question, but as he carried on speaking regardless, she gave a small frown. She listened to the explanation though, and her eyes widened a little at the mention of what the bludgers were actually made of. She'd figured they were probably rubber or leather, something that wasn't going to weigh a ton and inflict the kind of injuries he was so smug about. Playing this game might not be sugh a good idea after all, not because she was worried about getting hurt, but because someone might actually enjoy inflicting the injuries. She'd run into that kind of attitude on the racetrack once or twice, and her father had rather dismissively referred to the drivers in question as new money, bullingdon club wannabes, or when he was seriously angry, Americans. She kept her smirk to herself at that thought, though she didn't look impressed by the bragging. Saying nothing was the best option if she did actually want to give the game a try, there had to be some people on the team who weren't quite so obnoxious.

Steadying herself on the decrepit old broom, she nodded at the suggestion. Arrogant or not, he knew a lot more about the game than she did, and if she was careful to check that broom when no-one was looking it shouldn't matter too much if he was trying to trick her into making an idiot out of herself. He probably wasn't, but she was finding it never hurt to be careful around here. She didn't speak though, wanting to concentrate on what she was trying to do here, which seemed simple enough. Not getting hit, like she was back at home, playing stinger at scouts.

Except on a broomstick with someone hitting things at her, not running around the village hall while someone tossed a football.

As the quaffle came at her, faster than she'd expected it to, she tried to jerk the broomstick left and up, out of the way. She almost managed it too, the ball clipping the end of the bristles as she rose. She gave a squeak and her grip tightened on the handle, but she stayed on the broom and gave a triumphant grin to the older boy. "That wasn't so bad, maybe there is something to this game of yours." Her initial take on the boy was forgotten for now, she was just enjoying herself. "But, um, I don't know how to do a summoning charm or anything like that." she added, glancing round to see where the ball had gone, and starting to shift the old stick in it's general direction. With no idea that he was going easy on her, she was right back to trying to impress him even a little bit.


@Cassandra
MESSAGE     
^
Tristan Nott
 Posted: Jul 28 2017, 08:51 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
251
posts
16 years old

5th Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


For someone like Tristan, whose family quite literally wrote the book on blood purity in magical families, surnames had been drilled into his head as gravely important from a young age. He couldn’t resist playful teasing over her comment, stated obviously. “Sure, except your professors, anyone on a sports team if you plan on playing Quidditch, and anyone who doesn’t know you well here at school…” Reaching up to comb his hair from out of his eyes with his fingers, Tristan lifted his chin and smiled. Yes, he was quite full of self-importance and no, it didn’t bother him remotely. “Of course, I carn be simply classified along with everyone, which means you’ll need a nickname eventually.” –or she would, if he felt she was worth talking to after this evening. He wouldn’t dismiss a firstie out of hand; Lorcan had been plenty useful and Tristan appreciated having little minions running about.

A mischievous smile lit up Tristan’s face as he saw her surprise over the bludgers. “Wicked little things, they are. We’re meant to protect the rest of our team as well, but I’ve always liked a good offense for that. The badgers won’t hurt any of mine if I’ve broken them all first this game coming.” It had been the danger in Quidditch that made it so thrilling to Tristan in the first place, despite his father’s displeasure. His heir shouldn’t be flying about hitting iron back and forth, was the criticism that had come out of the mouth of a dragon handler, of course. Tristan had never listened, and had taken to the skies to chase what he loved. The only difference after his father’s death was that he felt a rare shred of guilt over endangering the legacy of the House of Nott. If the worst should happen to him, at least there was still Gwilym and Eirien, but it wouldn’t. Tristan had always acted invincible; and he wouldn’t have if he wasn’t more than halfway convinced.

A short laugh followed Robin’s squeak as the quaffle hit the old broomstick’s twigs, and Tristan swooped down to meet the girl, grinning. Invariably he enjoyed practice—in the rain, with people he didn’t know, however it came—and she was being a good sport about it. Maybe he could put her onto Quidditch early enough to get her some good practice in. “It’s only the best game in the world, and we need alternates. Try taking a shot at the hoops. I’ll set you up with a pass, and you can take a shot down there, aye?” He waved his hand dismissively to show he would retrieve the quaffle. “I’ve got it. You carn summon them anyway—they’ve got charms to protect them from tampering now.”

Without hesitation, Tristan turned his broom toward the quaffle and raced after it, scooping it up and curling it under his left arm in a proper hold, switching his bat to tuck under his right arm for now. He settled his right hand on the broom handle and pulled it up to race back toward her. Slowing his broom as he came nearer, Tristan inclined his head toward the set of hoops on the far end of the pitch. He grinned again, and hefted the quaffle once before tucking it back under his arm again and glancing toward it to demonstrate to her how it was best held. “Ready?”

@Fish
MESSAGE     
^
Robin Westfall-Moore
 Posted: Jul 30 2017, 05:14 PM
QUOTE     
FIsh is Offline
33
posts
11 years old

First Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Robin gave a dismissive wave as the boy spoke. "I meant anyone important. Besides, they kept up with my name at karting, and if quidditch people can't, then..." she trailed off and shrugged. Honestly, sometimes it was impossible for her to understand how some of the more hardcore blood purity obsessives managed to remember to breathe, let alone how they thought they were somehow better than her family. Not wanting to dwell on that thought though, she gave an exaggerated sigh as he continued. "So long as it's not Red or Ginge, I don't really care what you call me. Fed up of those two already." she grinned as she spoke, apparently unaware how cocky she sounded.

Nodding slowly as he spoke about the game again, she held her tongue. The more he spoke about the sport, the more conflicted she was starting to feel, even if she was all for dangerous sports back in the muggle world. Then again, in racing the objective was generally not to put your opponent in hospital or worse the way Tristan seemed to enjoy. Maybe he was the kind of person she'd met before, or maybe he just hadn't been hugged enough as a child and was making the game out to be worse than it actually was just to try and spook her, it was hard to tell. She'd have to keep going along with him today, and actually pay attention to the next match to get some kind of idea what she was potentially thinking about letting herself in for.

Another grin crossed her face as he spoke again, and she gave a dismissive shrug. "I don't know if I'd call it the best, but I've never played it. I've done a lot of racing though, you think you can convince me this is better?" she asked as she got herself settled on the old broom again, glancing at the tail to make sure the bristles weren't all going to fall out. She didn't have the slightest idea what that might actually mean for a broomstick, but if they weren't an important part of the design then the actually useful broom the boy and all the other actual players rode wouldn't have them.

Moving her broom up towards the hoops a bit to a distance she thought she might actually be able to hit them from, she flashed the boy another grin. Somewhat forced again, since she still wasn't completely sure about all this, but it was too late to back out now. Once she was in what she thought was a good enough spot, she pivoted her broom and gave a thumbs up. "Ready." she replied, lifting her other hand off the broom to try and make the catch properly. It'd never fly in a game, she was sure, but this wasn't a match and she wasn't entirely convinced she could catch the thing one handed. It wasn't exactly made for someone her size after all.


@Cassandra

MESSAGE     
^
Tristan Nott
 Posted: Aug 2 2017, 11:24 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
251
posts
16 years old

5th Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Tristan raised a brow, a short laugh following her dismissal of her classmates and professors as unimportant. He couldn't disagree with that; Tristan found anyone who did not currently have his attention or affection to be rather unimportant himself. "Oh are you then? I'll strike 'missing Weasley' off the list as well, I suppose. You're world-weary for eleven, aren't you?" he teased, failing to mention the fact that he had no idea at all what karting was all about. It seemed obviously a sport, something about a cart, but beyond that, Tristan was lost. Muggle sports would always be inferior to Quidditch in Tristan's heart anyway, and he dismissed it with a note to look it up later and pretend he'd known all along. He hated sounding ignorant, even if it was only over silly, mundane things.

"I'd call it the best, and I've been on a broom before your mam looked at your tad sideways, dwt. You'll have to rely on my extensive experience." he grinned again, lifting his chin. She was simply going to have to take his word for it. "Of course I could, though I hardly need to. The game should do that well enough on its own. There's racing, and then there's racing in the air, while you're trying to keep a tidy balance on everything else you've got to manage for your position. You're small-small, might be a good Seeker, if you train for it a bit. Seekers have got to be the fastest of all of us." he explained.

He hadn't intended to explain anything at all at first, mildly annoyed that she would try and put the onus on him to convince a firstie of anything at all. That brief flicker of irritation had passed as quickly as it had come, and Tristan had barely recognized it before getting caught up in his enthusiasm for the game he loved. Lifting a hand off his broom and sticking his bat under his arm, Tristan held up his fingers in a circle to demonstrate the size of the tiny snitch. "They've got to chase this tiny golden ball called the snitch--it's this big only-- opposed by the other team's Seeker. First one to catch it gets massive points, and it's a race to spot it and grab it. It's devilish fast and easy to miss. You'd have to move faster than you've ever to get ahold of it." He smiled, glancing sideways toward the young girl as if to dare her to try it. "I've got one for practice, but it's in my trunk. You'll have to come find me after, if you'd like to test it."

There were other things to test Robin on first, such as how well she could handle a quaffle, and her basic skill at flying. Tristan grinned again when she got into position by the hoops and called ready, then turned his broom to head halfway down the pitch. He was going to throw this thing at her with speed; he was certainly astute enough to pick up on her repeated mentions of how fast she wanted to go. Racing, the age of the broom she was stuck with--this tiny girl wanted to go fast. Tristan was more than happy to show her what made flying unparalleled for such an experience.

Leaning a little further over his broom, Tristan shot down the pitch as fast as it would carry him. Years at Hogwarts and practice as a Beater had shaped his frame to be much larger than most Seekers, but he'd always been able to buy the best brooms one could throw galleons at, and flying was a talent that he had thrown his entire heart into cultivating. With wildness in his eyes and a bright grin on his face, Tristan threw the Quaffle at the small girl as he might have done for any Chaser on the team. Accuracy wasn't a problem for his arm--after all, he needed to be able to place a bludger where he wanted it.

He slowed after passing to her, waiting to see if she'd catch it and how the shot she'd take would look.

@Fish
MESSAGE     
^
Robin Westfall-Moore
 Posted: Aug 5 2017, 05:56 PM
QUOTE     
FIsh is Offline
33
posts
11 years old

First Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Robin could only shrug at Tristan's teasing. "Ah'm pure Scottish" she replied as if that explained everything, in the thickest and most stereotypical accent she could muster, far different from the almost refined and posh way the girl usually spoke. Private school before Hogwarts had left it's mark on her vocabulary in more ways than one. "'sides, I can't be a Weasley, I'm muggle born." she sounded proud of the fact even if she was sure some of the other members of her house, the ones with the old wizarding families and the funny ideas about what life was like back home with her family looked down their noses at her for it. Their loss, as far as Robin was concerned.

Nodding along as the older boy spoke about his apparently extensive quidditch experience, Robin simply nodded. She'd probably have said a lot of the same things about racing if she was honest, from where she was sitting the only thing different about racing a broom over a kart was the third dimension she'd be moving in, more than countered by not having to worry about things like grip, tyres or fuel. Still, there was no denying that zipping through the air on a collection of twigs strapped to a branch was a thrill even if it wasn't a patch on the kind of racing she was sure she'd be doing in a few years time, when she was big enough to reach the pedals in an actual car. Probably best not to mention that to the boy however, he might change his mind about letting her play this game.

She kept listening as his explanation got deeper and deeper, far more than she'd gleaned from the games she hadn't really paid attention to so far this year. "I dunno....catching the golden stitch is definitely a thing, it just seems like they spend a lot of the games sort of...bobbing along and looking pretty. I'm not saying no or anything mind, just...can I try out for something else too? I mean, if you really want a firstie on your team and it's not gonna ruin your style or whatever." she replied, trying not to look too nervous, or too excited about the idea. "And I don't think any of the school brooms can go faster than I've ever been, I've been racing for years and my dad's taken me on laps in his cars too." she added, maybe bragging a little bit. Not that she expected a wizard to understand what a fast lap around a real racing circuit felt like. She could barely describe it herself.

There were bigger problems to get over before she could even begin to worry about things like that, however. first and foremost she had to impress not just Tristan, but the rest of the quidditch team, whichever professors were involved, and probably half the rest of the house before she could even think about getting onto the team.

Doing her best not to look too nervous as the older boy shot away on his far superior broom, she shifted around on her won in an attempt to get balanced properly. She took care to keep her broom head on to the direction he was coming from, figuring it'd be harder for him to knock her off the thing (accidentally or otherwise) and her eyes didn't leave the beater for the whole of his flight. She kept her seat as he sped towards her, surprised by how fast the broom went and how quickly it accelerated, but not overly afraid of the boy heading straight for her.

despite her best efforts to look grown up and unconcerned, she gave a little squeal as he hurled the quaffle at her, but she stayed on her stick even as it reached her. She didn't so much catch it as get hit in the chest by it, never having attempted to stop a ball travelling at that sort of seed before, and while it did knock the wind out of her, it didn't knock her off the broom. Just as well, since she was up at almost the height of the goal hoops. Not wanting to look too much like a winded firstie, she spun her broom around s fast as she could managed, one hand moving to grip it again as the other held the quaffle, and she hurled it at the posts, as hard as she could.

The only problem was, she missed. The quaffle flew past the goal, underneath and to the left of the middle hoop she'd been aiming for.



@Cassandra
MESSAGE     
^
Tristan Nott
 Posted: Aug 13 2017, 11:03 AM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
251
posts
16 years old

5th Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Another smirk played across Tristan's face at Robin's comment, and he nodded as if what she'd said was obvious. To him, it was. Mam's scholarly work on pureblood lineages made Tristan acutely aware of who among his schoolmates was pureblooded and who was born from muggles. He used to care a lot more than he did now, and while he couldn't say he had entirely dismissed his prejudices, at least his failed relationship with Caraway had made him more aware of why he had been taught the things he had. As convinced as his mam was that she was correct, Tristan would be the head of his House in September, when he turned seventeen, and the Nott family was going to be taken in his direction.

The girl's assessment of the Seeker position made Tristan laugh, and he nodded his agreement. "Alright, that's fair, innit? You'd be good at it, most likely, but that doesn't make it exciting.There's Chaser as well; they handle the Quaffle here and are meant to gain as many goals as they can before the Snitch is found. They work in a team of three, and they've got to be nearly jest as quick. Let's give that a try." he suggested, before flashing the girl another broad grin. "You carn ruin my style in any case, little one. It's a permanent feature. Honest, we could use some back up for our Chasers. If we hadn't had Moon last game, Ravenclaw might've lost instead of won by a single goal. Moon's about as useful as a doorstop and jest as charming however, so here we are. Anyway, I'm Co-Captain, so if I think you've done alright, Bishop will listen to me. If he doesn't, I'll twist his arm about until he remembers why it is he makes a habit of it in the first place."

Tristan gave a quick lift of his chin and another smile before heading down the pitch to start their practice shots. The squeal that escaped Robin made him grin, but he nodded when she not only caught the Quaffle, but stayed on her broom. Of course he'd been planning on scooping her up if he'd knocked her off, and considering the difference of size and strength it would have been easy enough, but that she'd stayed on was a mark in her favor.

She'd missed her goal, but the shot was a decent one, and Tristan nodded. "Good!" he shouted, swooping down to retrieve the quaffle and head back up to her. "Follow me down to the other end then, and we'll pass back and forth. You can take shots when we reach the hoops." he instructed, and gestured for her to follow. If this little one had as keen an instinct for speed and as quick judgement as she seemed to, she'd be a good player with practice. A smug smile teased at Tristan's mouth. He was taking credit for this one, certainly. When he was Captain next year, he'd already have someone who he was training from the ground up; that she seemed capable of brushing off his considerable attitude was already a good sign.

@Fish
MESSAGE     
^
Robin Westfall-Moore
 Posted: Aug 17 2017, 05:00 PM
QUOTE     
FIsh is Offline
33
posts
11 years old

First Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Hearing the older boy laugh put a grin on Robin's face, and she listened to his response with an intensity usually reserved for particularly interesting lessons. Chaser seemed like a position that would involve actually doing something useful rather than floating around the edges and making maybe one or two dives per game. Much better to be in the thick of things, and being tiny might even be an advantage if things got heated. This was supposed to be a non contact game, except for the bludgers, and she'd be a much harder target for those than the older, slower players. Plus, she'd get to feel the wind in her hair for most of the length of the match, not just those handful of moments at the end.

"That sounds a lot better than booping around looking for the stitch." she replied, and giggled as he spoke again. If he was co-captain and she could actually manage to impress him without killing herself in the process, then maybe she could sneak onto the team without needing to worry about impressing the rest of them. Assuming she decided she did like the sport after all, she didn't want to commit to anything serious when she honestly knew very little about the game. She nodded when it seemed appropriate once she'd got the brief bout of giggles under control, remembering that she was supposed to be pretending to be grown up, but didn't actually speak again just yet.

Despite the encouraging shout from the older boy, Robin still frowned as he swooped off to recover the ball. he didn't seem the sort to toss out empty platitudes, but she wasn't used to betting praise for failure. It was the first time she'd ever taken a shot like that however, which might be why he didn't seem as annoyed about her missing as she was. With some practise she'd manage it, it'd just take time. Already planning to come back out here the next time she thought no-one was around for a bit more practice on her own, she nodded at the instruction. "Okay." she replied, turning the elderly broom to follow his lead and hoping she could actually keep up on the thing. Hopefully, she'd at least come out of today knowing roughly what she needed to practice and how to go about doing it even if she didn't manage to waltz into what she'd probably consider an unearned team place. She needed a lot of training (or a catastrophe of some kind hitting the rest of the team) before she'd be willing to fly out in front of a crowd on one of these knackered school brooms.


@Cassandra
MESSAGE     
^
Tristan Nott
 Posted: Aug 24 2017, 11:28 PM
QUOTE     
Cassandra is Offline
251
posts
16 years old

5th Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


Tristan couldn't help but grin in response to Robin's assessment of the Seeker position. "I carn find it in me to disagree. Seeker's got a bit of glory I suppose, but those in the stand spend most of their time with eyes on the Chasers and Beaters. I played Chaser myself for my first three years, though it's Beater that's where I belong." As far as Tristan was concerned, there was no questioning his aptitude for the bat and bludger. He'd been a small, weedy little thing when he'd joined the team in his first year. Chaser had been good for him, improving his speed and coordination and allowing him to learn the game. Once he'd gotten big enough to play Beater, Tristan had never looked back. "It's jest that I like winning, and our Seeker's one I occasionally feel should get a good toss out the window. That's what prompted the suggestion. C'mon then, let's work on Chasing a bit."

"That's not complete shit for your first shot at the hoops, issit?" he teased, raising his brows at the young girl as if to issue her a challenge. "You aren't leaving until you get it through once on each hoop of course. Now that I've got you in a practice, I carn let you escape until you're good and ready to stand proof of my capable instruction." He grinned again, hoping to prod at her obviously competitive spirit to see what sort of control this little one had. Tristan tucked the quaffle under his arm and shot back down the pitch, gesturing for her to follow. Passing wasn't the easiest of Chaser tricks to manage, but it was essential. Tristan had always been a firm believer in practicing what was the most difficult of a position's necessary skills; that was what got you better.

Once Robin was in range, Tristan turned, hooking the quaffle toward the girl to see if she could catch it. The first pass was a test, a straightforward toss to get her used to catching the quaffle in motion. As they headed down the pitch, Tristan would increase the difficulty of each pass. He would throw harder and faster, hook to the side or toss it higher than her small frame would be comfortable reaching without effort. This little one didn't seem like the sort who wanted things handed to her easily; despite what any of the witless badgers or lions might think, one did not get sorted into Slytherin House without a keen sense of determination to supplement their ambition. "Alright, snakelet, I'll tell you what: if you can get the quaffle through that left hoop, I'll let you test this broom 'round the pitch for a few turns. See what sort of speed you can catch on a quality broom before you turn your nose up at my game." He grinned again, ready to pass her the quaffle one more time. The safety of his broom hardly worried him; once the barrier was down he'd consider buying a new one anyhow. This one had been his for nearly a year now--and that was approaching disgraceful for a Nott.

@Fish
MESSAGE     
^
Robin Westfall-Moore
 Posted: Sep 2 2017, 05:48 PM
QUOTE     
FIsh is Offline
33
posts
11 years old

First Year Student

Hogwarts
Slytherin


It hadn't taken long for Tristan to work out exactly how to get Robin going, and the frown on her face soon turned to a fierce grin. "So we'll only be out here for about ten minutes?" she replied to his challenge, her spirit provoked just as he'd intended. Even if she wasn't yet convinced about this particular sport she was going to get through a simple practice like this however long it took, and if a pureblood who'd been sitting on a broom since before they could walk could do it, Robin would have to do it quicker. It was only passing, and how hard could that really be?

Coaxing as much speed as she could out of the worn out school broom, she set off in pursuit. From the fact that she actually managed to catch up she had to assume he was going easy on her, but she could rationalise that away as being the fault of the broom and the fact this was the first time she'd done any kind of wizard sports rather than anything to do with her actual ability, and she gave another grin as she got close enough to him for the pass.

The first pass she caught with a little more confidence than her earlier effort, and it was quickly returned. As things got more difficult, she got more determined, and while she didn't catch all of them, especially the throws that sailed by just out of her reach, she made a point of diving the old broom down to retrieve them herself. First ever lesson or not, she was determined to prove herself good enough for the team. She only just caught the last pass before his offer, getting a fingertip to it at first and snatching the quaffle on the second go, but returned it as if she'd meant to do that all along. This was exactly the kind of introduction to the game she'd wanted, showing her what she'd have to practice and letting her know her shortcomings without even pretending to sugar coat any of it.

The grin that had barely left her face since they'd started with passes only intensified as he set the challenge. "That'll be easy!" she replied, brimming with confidence. If these brooms actually went faster than her kart back home, she'd probably be hooked on this sport almost as much as she was on her racing.



@Cassandra
MESSAGE     
^
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

OPTIONS C L O S E DTOPIC      POLL 


 


 

RPG-D Expecto Patronum  photo banner.gif War Is Brewing FIDELIUS

Wizarding Warfare Ilvermorny  Fidelius Relashio! Pumpkin Juice

ACTA INCREDIBLE SURFACE LIES NickPicHost

skin made by miss texas at caution, cc, & shine