alicia (spinnets) wrote in disorderic, @ 2017-12-22 19:53:00 |
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With a precise, measured swish of Layla’s wand the small bar lifted off from the rooftop of her Wimbourne apartment building. She let it raise a good ten feet, and then another spell sent robes spiral upwards through hoop she’d installed on one end. She repeated the process on the other side, and then tethered them down to the roof itself. “The question is, do we make all the food and seating aerial as well, or force them to live on their brooms? Other than I guess the area on the roof if people get bored. And aren’t part avian.” Which didn’t include her, or Alicia Spinnet either. “Raise it up!” Alicia declared with a decisive nod as she jerked her thumb up in the direction of the bar. “If I can’t get broomside service for all my party needs, then what kind of a quidditch party is this?” “Your wish is my command, Al,” Layla replied with a sweeping half-bow before directing her wand like an orchestra conductor to raise the snack table along with several chairs and a small table. “We don’t have enough seating, I guess people will just have to fly. Shame.” She flashed a mischievous smirk as she got to work tethering the latest parts of their floating masterpiece. By the time she finished, Alicia had summoned her broom and taken to flight, climbing between the floating arrangement to get a better look. Sitting back, she lifted a hand to scratch her chin. “It’s missing something,” she said, producing her wand and sweeping it over the ropes. Soon they were covered in twinkling lights, and a few floating lanterns had joined the mix. Layla clapped her hands once as if to signal her acceptance of the way things looked. Then, she reached for her broom — a Lightingbolt that was two years old. “I’ve spent too much time standing with two feet on the ground as it is.” She paused, looking around at everything. “Oh, and the net, safety officer. On that note I think we should take a bet on who is going to drunkenly fall off their broom first.” “I bet it’ll be George. He’ll say it’s on account of his being off balance,” Alicia said with a laugh, flying closer to her friend. It didn’t take much more spellwork to put the net in place, securing it to the hoops Layla had already put in place. “But no one breaks their neck on my watch!” Layla couldn’t help but laugh at that thought. “That’s definitely something George would say,” she agreed, and then reached behind her, balancing expertly on the broom, to snag a bottle from the floating bar. “Let’s have a pre-game toast. You know, in honour of your success as a safety officer.” “In honor of your party-throwing abilities, you mean,” Alicia said, slanting a grin at her before swooping toward the table to retrieve a set of glasses. “We do owe it to ourselves to test this all out first. Preparation is key to safety!” Breaking the seal on the bottle, Layla poured a shot’s worth of whiskey into each of the glasses in Alicia’s hands. “And to the fact that no matter how fucked up the world may be, we always have this stability to look forward to.” “I’ll drink to that,” Alicia said, pressing the glass into Layla’s hand before she held her own up for a toast. “To being blessed with the best friends a girl could have.” Layla raised her glass to match, and for that very moment she could ignore the terrible weight brand on her forearm and blissfully believe nothing could change. “C’mon, Spinnet! What’s the matter?” Layla yelled over her shoulder over the howling sound of wind given the speed she was traveling at. Her blonde hair, stupidly not tied back, flapped wildly behind her as she focused her attention forward. “Shit!” she exclaimed, yanking the handle of the broom to the side and pulling a high velocity turn to avoid a wall that had materialized out of nowhere or so she’d claim. Despite the near miss she threw back her head and laughed. There was no greater thrill than the freedom of high-speed flying — especially when it came with beating one of your friends in a race through Wimbourne at night. Alicia grinned at the sound of her friend’s laughter and leaned into her broom to give herself the extra bit of speed she needed to take the lead. “Get your head in the game, Fairbourne,” she teased as she flew past, leading the way over several rooftops before she made an abrupt dive down into an alley. “Get back here!” Layla retorted instinctively, but the words had no hope if catching someone ahead. The only way to taunt Alicia back was to catch her, and that was the plan. Hunkering down properly, Layla accelerated after her opponent, mimicking her movements through the air to make up every inch of ground via drafting in Alicia’s wake. Following Alicia through the dive is when Layla spotted the opening. Using the extra momentum and speed built up by the swoop, Layla pulled up mere inches from the ground and tried to sling herself past and get entry into the narrow alley first. But Alicia kept up the pace, speeding alongside her at full speed with the back of the alley — an imposing brick wall — rushing to meet them. She glanced at Layla from the corner of her eye, daring her to pull up first. Layla tossed a look to her side, gauging how far Alicia was willing to go with this. The wall loomed ever closer, but still Layla didn’t make the slightest twitch of movement that would help her avert disaster. Suddenly, this had become a different kind of contest, and even more of a rush. It wasn’t until their brooms were mere inches from colliding with the wall that they both sat back on their heels and yanked the end of their sticks up. Alicia’s toes dragged across the wall as she shot straight up into the air. She let out a loud whoop of delight as her broom arced over the brick building like a porpoising dolphin. Then she let gravity take over, pulling her into another dive down the other side and into another alley. Having sworn she left skid marks on the wall, Layla’s upward velocity ended with a flourishing back flip before shooting downwards into the next alley. The move had cost her, and she grit her teeth while trying to coax more speed from her broom. The finish line was in sight, too: the road at the end of the alley that her apartment building was one. Dodging upwards over a balcony and knocking over a potted plant that had been set on it with her foot, Layla drew up most of the distance. “Nope, not today,” she taunted despite the fact she was in second place by mere inches. The grin on Alicia’s face grew wider as she ducked between laundry lines and swerved around fire escapes, narrowly holding her lead into the straightaway. If she’d been a seeker, the race might’ve been hers, but she could feel the other chaser nosing ahead. Crouching over her broom, she kept up the pace and by the time they made it to the finish line, she had no idea who won. As far as she was concerned, they both had. With a happy ‘whoop’ escaping her lips, Layla de-accelerated once they’d passed the finish line. Pulling up into a stop altogether near Alicia, she hovered in place with a grin plastered on her face. It didn’t matter she had no idea who won or that her hair must have been a frightening mess. “Who said drinking and flying didn’t go well together?” she gushed. Alicia let out an exhilarated laugh as she let the speed leave her broom. “Some spoilsport, probably,” she said, catching her breath. “I really thought you were going to eat it back there.” A half-laugh half-snort escaped Layla’s lips. “There was loads of room, and I blame it on having to look over my shoulder to check how far back you were, anyway.” “Too bad,” Alicia teased. “If you weren’t so busy with that and your fancy backflips, you might’ve won.” “I was winning on style as well as time,” Layla bantered as she ran a hand through her hair in a poor attempt to tame it. “Anyway, we should probably get back before Patty thinks we’re smears on pavement.” “She should give us more credit,” Alicia said. But even laughing, she angled her broom back in the direction of Layla’s flat. She was already picking up speed when she called out, “Last one back makes the next round!” Layla blinked. Had she heard that correctly? Turning to Alicia, it took her a second to find her words. “They did just announce Robards won, right? I’m not hearing things?” A grin spread across Alicia’s mouth and she turned to Layla, grabbing her arm in disbelief. “He won! He actually won!” The older woman was still in a bit of shock as her mind scrambled to process precisely what this news meant. Truth be told, Layla didn’t care whether Robards beat Nott and how that looked for the Death Eaters. What Layla cared about is what came next and how it would affect those she cared about that lived in Tinworth. “I can’t even,” Layla said, shaking her head in disbelief to clear it as she remembered how to speak. “Holy shit.” Alicia was too excited to consider how the rest of this would play out. In a daring show of resistance, her town had just thrown its head back and roared. Her chest didn’t feel big enough to hold the swell of jubilation that rose within her, and she had no choice but to do the same, letting out a shout. “Yes! That’s what happens when you fuck with Tinworth!” To cover her mixed reaction, Layla downed the rest of the liquor in her glass in what she hoped looked like celebration. She sputtered after the fact owing to the rampant burning in her throat and the sudden surge of alcohol in her stomach, but then raised a fist in the air that became a middle finger in the direction of London. Damn the Man it was, then. “Fuck you, Ministry of Magic!” “In your face, Death Eaters!” Alicia called, casting another grin at Layla before she let her go and grabbed her broom instead. Sweeping up over the roof of her friend’s flat, she thrust her wand into the air, throwing a beam of explosive magic into the air. There’d be fireworks over Wimbourne tonight. |