trans_9 | On your broomsticks! [OPEN]

Entry tags:

On your broomsticks! [OPEN]

Following the instructions given to him by crew members here and there, Cedric stepped through a green archway tucked on a corner of the fifth floor and entered a grey void. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the sort of place that would be perfect for a day of flying. He imagined a bright grassy plain, a large lake, and a forest off to the side. Vague memories turned into vivid images surrounding him, so thoroughly convincing that he really believed he'd been taken from the ship and placed on a field back on Earth. It was quite a convincing illusion
.
All it needed now was the key piece: a group of brooms. He thought for a moment on which brooms to provide them with. Firebolts were the world standard, but he'd never known one well enough to be able to picture it accurately. The school brooms, Shooting Stars, were nice and safe for new riders but not quite reliable. In the end, he knew his own broom best: a sleek Nimbus 2001, gifted by his father. As long as he instructed the fliers to go slowly, they should be safe on those brooms.

Visitors would find Cedric side-mounted on a broom in his black and yellow Quidditch robes, gliding just slightly over the grass. As soon as he spotted them, he'd greet them enthusiastically and move to touch down. "Hi!"

((ooc: wide open for everyone to join in! We'll be doing some group exercises too, so thread around! Fly as a group when you're ready!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Some people at Hogwarts would agree that Quidditch was indeed a foolish game to get into. "I was! I spent a large amount of time in the hospital wing, but Madam Pomfrey wasn't so bad when you got used to her. And we have faster healing methods than Muggles for most injuries, from what I gather. They just tend to be more disastrous if used improperly."

Muggles who broke bones were in casts for weeks and weeks? That was so strange to him, Madam Pomfrey could heal them in a minute.

"That's because the object the Seekers caught was originally a small bird, the Golden Snidget. Wizards took more and more Snidgets as Quidditch became popular, endangering their future as a species. Eventually, the use of Snidgets in Quidditch was outlawed and we had to find a new way to play. That was when a skilled metalworker invented the Snitch. It's identical to a Snidget in every way, except of course that it's not alive."

He's read far too many books about the subject, clearly.

"You know, not all us Muggles are helpless." Howard raises an eyebrow. "One of the girls back home could heal people just by touching them, even if they had a hole in their head for hours. Sounds like that tops your magic and my medicine both."

Howard laughs a little bit at Cedric's ability to recite 'the history of the Snitch' at the drop of a hat, but it's not a mean laugh. In some ways Howard's jealous of people who have enough enthusiasm for things to just memorize everything about it because they can - then again, he sometimes forgets that he's not so different. He's acquired a vast wealth of (mostly useful) knowledge in the last few years, much of it simply because he could.

He takes a deep breath and rises another thirty feet or so in the air, so he's high up enough to be scared. "How high up do you usually play these Quidditch games?"

"I didn't mean to say that you were," Cedric frowns, though he was impressed. "It doesn't really matter who has the ability, as long as we're keeping everyone alive."

As best they can. For the most part. The new grim reality.

"Higher," Cedric answers with a little smile, waving a hand to summon one of the goalposts. It stands about fifty feet high. "But you don't have to rush. The view's just as good from here, isn't it?"

"I'm just saying. You wizards may give us a name like we're some kind of toy poodle, but just normal humans...they can be scary. I mean, we can be scary, I guess." He starts to ascend on the broom. "I generally don't think I'm all that terrifying, though."

Howard furrows his brow and decides he'll get up to the top of that goalpost, even if it terrifies him. "The view's great. Even when you know it's fake."

"Of course," Cedric agrees. "You've done things that wizards can only dream of."

He tries not to carry on the prejudice. It was hardly fair. "Yeah. I miss real views, but...at the same time I believe we're somewhat safe here. Though that could be an illusion."

It's hard to tell anymore.

"You can never overrate safety," Howard says. "But you're right, you can't trust it either. It just leaves like that when you least expect it." He snaps his fingers to illustrate, but also to try and distract from the way he quickly blinks back tears as he thinks of that. Funny, how some ideas still cut to the bone.

"Anyway. So the Quaffle goes into those hoops, and you want to score as many points as fast as possible because you don't know when the other guy might get the snitch and end the game, right? So in theory, the whole game could end in two minutes if one of the Seekers is good and lucky, right?" He chuckles a bit. "Do people ask for refunds if that happens?"

Luckily for Howard, Cedric sees nothing---or at least you wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him. They're simply discussing the winds of change, that's all.

"Yes. There's an old story going around that the Snitch was once caught in three seconds. No, we don't give refunds. It's rotten luck when it happens, but it's very rare. Most games last between 20 minutes and two hours."

Most of the games he'd played in had been around that length, thankfully. It was a good balance.

"Sounds like a decent length of time. Hard to plan a schedule around, though." He's up high enough that he's got a death grip on the handle of the broom, as if he's trying to throttle it rather than hold on, but he's up there. "So do you guys tend to go for speed or stamina? I mean, if you don't know how long the game will last."

"Yeah. We always have to call the matches off after a day or so at Hogwarts or we'd start missing classes. It's never reached that point as long as I've been there, though."

And that was a good thing. He couldn't imagine keeping alert for that long or trading with alternates, which led right into the next question.

"It depends on the position they play. The Chasers and Beaters need to be the most well-rounded to speed across the field and have the strength for their roles. Keepers need more stamina, it's not unusual to see a bulky person in that position. Seekers need to be ready to take off at a moments' notice. We're relatively slow-paced when we haven't seen the Snitch yet, but when we do... Most Seekers are light and on the small side---about your size, actually."

Was this new assessment horrifying? Probably.

"Oh, no. Heaven forbid you miss classes," Howard says with mock horror. Clearly, someone doesn't take school very seriously. He wonders if he'd have been more motivated if he'd been learning magic, but...nah, probably not. Classrooms give him hives.

He listens closely as Cedric explains, though he grimaces a little at Cedric's assertion. "Thanks, man. I need more reminders I'm short. But whatever, at least you're not trying to start up a team or anything."

Unless that's what all the brooms are for.

"I mean, even if you were, you'd play the Seeker, right?"

Howard probably won't like the way Cedric's eyes almost sparkle. "It's not a bad thing, not always. And...you know? I could. And there would have to be more than one team. Harry would be the Seeker of the second team, but if we had a third or fourth..."

Run, Howard. Run now. Or fly away, your choice.

Running would probably be a very bad idea fifty feet up in the air, it's true.

Howard looks a bit alarmed. "No way, man, no way. I so don't do sports. Especially not sports where people are trying to hit you with enchanted balls. I could ref, but you're not getting me on that field."

Cedric only looked mildly disappointed. He wouldn't try to force anyone, after all. "True, it's not for everyone. I can't imagine most medics being thrilled about all the injuries we get. Madam Pomfrey wasn't!"

He laughed to himself for a moment, thinking over Howard's other suggestion. "Right! We'd need a referee. You'd still have to do some flying, but you'd have a protective shield cast over you. Come to think of it, we'd also need a scorekeeper---maybe a commentator. Do you know anyone who might want to do those things?"

Cedric had slipped into Planning Mode.

"Protective shield sounds good. Protective shield sounds really good." Howard looks a bit concerned, though it's not at Cedric; he's just surprised by what he's even saying. He's never liked sports, never. Why would he help some guy he barely knows start a team?

And yet, he has to admit the feeling of flying is nice. And Cedric's been kind enough.

And that's probably why he doesn't recommend 'Karis' as a commentator. That could only end in disaster. "No, don't know anyone off the top of my head. Zou might be interested in scorekeeping, maybe."

"You'd be safe, don't worry. The last thing we want to do is lose our referee." Cedric wisely opted not to mention the angry Beaters that sometimes tried to hit a Bludger that way when their team had been ruled against. It was best not to scare people who were trying to help you.

"All right, then I'd have to keep looking. Scorekeeping's easy enough, I'm sure he'd be all right. You'd just have to get to know the basic fouls of Quidditch. There are supposedly seven hundred, but common sense will tell you what constitutes a foul."

Howard chews his knuckle as he thinks of that. "I'm not making any promises, since I work a lot, but we'll see. Sounds like it could be fun. And I can memorize seven hundred fouls easy."

Well. Not necessarily easily. But it would give him something to do.

"You'd only have to know a few dozen. I don't know all the fouls, no one does. The Department of Magical Games and Sports keeps most of them secret---it's for the silliest reason. They think people would be inspired to make the fouls if they knew they existed."

Cedric rolls his eyes. It's clearly poor logic. "They essentially boil down to this: no tampering with the other team's ability to fairly play and all the balls have to be handled correctly. You'd know after watching one game."

Howard gets an idea. "Could you reimagine one of the games you seen in the Sensoriums? I mean, if you got time."

"I could," Cedric thinks, a number of games running through his head. "Do you want a particularly dirty game, with plenty of fouls? Something well-played?"

"First one sounds good. Show me what fouls look like so I can recognize them and all that." And Howard actually figures that with his ability to multitask, keeping his eye on that many balls and players won't be too difficult. Tricky, but not impossible. Secretly, he does like those small challenges.

Cedric grins. Oh, he remembers a particularly foul Quidditch World Cup. He hadn't been invested in the teams that year, but he did appreciate a good game. You'd think professional players would know better!

The match unfolds before their eyes. Chasers after the Quaffle, Seekers weaving in and out in search of the Snitch, Beaters on top of Bludgers...at first it all looked fairly normal. But the fun was soon to begin, starting with a scuffle between the Chasers. One had grabbed onto the other's broom, dragging it down with her.

"That's blagging," Cedric explains, watching as they're forcibly broken up by a Bludger flying in their direction. It continues to the hoops, where the Keeper is using some...creative tactics, including sitting on a hoop and using their rear end to keep the Quaffle from entering.

"And that's the strangest instance of flacking I've ever seen," thought a bewildered Cedric. Huh. How did what they see make any sense?

"Do I have to know what they're all called or can I just point out when people are being really dumb?"

If Quidditch sounded silly, watching it is an entirely different level of ridiculous. Howard's fairly certain that at some point the players on both sides decided that they ad stopped caring about points and changed their goals to collecting as many yellow cards as they could get. Or whatever the wizarding equivalent was.

"No, you don't need to know the names. Also keep an eye out for people using their powers against each other---obviously, that's not allowed either."

Just as he says it, there's a subtle movement inside one of the Chasers' robes. In a flash, the other team's Keeper is wobbling off his broom. A subtle Jelly-Legs Jinx backfired.

"This match is unusual. I think the teams were in a dispute about ownership of some kind of kettle beforehand, and they were venting their frustration against each other."

"Might be tricky if you let any telekinetics on the team. Although the one from my world was always really obvious about it. Lots of jazz hands and booga booga fingers."

Howard looks surprised. "Over a kettle? Was there food in it?"

"True, but...maybe I misunderstood how the comm rings work, but doesn't everyone have that ability now? I'd either have to ban it or allow everyone to do it."

It might be easier to allow everyone, he thinks, though it'll definitely change the strategy of the game.

"We think it was a rare potion ingredient. Some ingredients, especially from rare magical creatures, are extremely expensive. Whatever they had was very valuable...or it could've been a potion as well. There are powerful ones, such as Felix Felicis. Whoever drinks it will be unnaturally lucky for a time. Everything happens to fall into place and their plans never go wrong."

Professor Snape had told them about it during one of their first NEWT level lessons. It was for fools, he'd said, and they needn't dawdle, but he'd always been curious.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject