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Tweak says, "Figment of whose imagination?"

Bryony Capper (goodlight) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2015-01-27 14:32:00

Entry tags:

character: bryony capper, character: orla quirke

Temptation
Who: Bryony and Orla
What: Resisting temptation - or not?
Where: Outside Sugarplum's Sweet Shop, Diagon Alley
When: Tuesday afternoon
Rating: SFW

Bryony emerged from Slug and Jiggers empty-handed - she'd been doing an inventory of everything the studio might need for various paints and potions and there'd been so much that the shop employee had assured her he could owl it straight to the studio that night. It had to be at night because the studio was in a muggle area, something Bryony was keenly aware of. She'd never actually explored muggle London, but she was starting to want to. Braith and Ophelia both did, on occasion, and came back talking about the outlandish muggle fashions. For today, though, she was dressed in dark-green robes and would have to be content with Diagon Alley. Without the potions ingredients, she had nothing much to do today and she hadn't brought her sketch book...

Her eye was caught by a display of sugar cobwebs in Sugarplum's - all different hues, with brightly-coloured spiders dangling from them. The window was almost too much, but they'd had the sense to spiral the cobwebs over a white background instead of letting customers look through them into the already-croweded shop. The impulse to go in and buy one hit Bryony hard. She hadn't had sweets since before Christmas and had skipped lunch to go shopping. Were the different colours different flavours, too? She knew she shouldn't - could practically hear her mother's voice picking out every flaw that she was supposed to be trying to get rid of. Too much belly, hips too wide, cheeks too chubby. That only made it worse. She wanted to rebel, to have something nice for herself rather than more criticism.

She was so lost in her own internal struggle that she didn't notice the crowd around her - at least, not until someone bumped into her and set her stumbling into the window. She caught herself with one arm and looked up. "I'm so sorry!"

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goodlight
2015-01-30 05:33 pm UTC (link)

Bryony glanced at the vanishing form of the tall wizard but didn't join in Orla's glaring. "I'm fine," she said quickly, even before she'd checked it was true. Fortunately as she brushed off her robes she found no sore spots and she was able to stand upright as normal. It hadn't been that hard a knock and she'd caught herself relatively well. Perhaps all her flying before Christmas was paying off by rewarding her with some co-ordination. She glanced up at the witch helping her and blushed pink. Not only did she recognise her from the one match she'd attended but from the newspapers too. "Oh! You're... Quirke." She blushed deeper. Quidditch commentators were always calling players by their surnames, but that didn't mean it was appropriate when actually meeting them. "I mean Ms Quirke, of course," Bryony quickly amended. "You play for the Magpies with my brother. I'm Bryony Capper." She offered a polite hand.

"I didn't have any shopping," she added, since Orla was scanning the ground for dropped parcels. "Or, I did, but they're owling it to us, since it was so much." She was talking far more than she usually did around strangers - a combination of embarrassment and excitement at getting to talk to a real quidditch player again. "Are you alright?" she asked, suddenly thinking that Ronan would never speak to her again if she'd been involved in injuring his team's beater before matches had even resumed.

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quirkybeater
2015-02-03 11:17 am UTC (link)

Orla smiled at the recognition, a warm, friendly smile, and took the offered hand, bringing up her other hand to hold the woman's hand in both of hers. She still found it strange to be recognised, maybe because she did spend part of her life in a world that didn't know she played a magical sport professionally. She reasoned that that kept her grounded, or at least kept her from being arrogant about some skill with a bat and a ball. Still, she didn't mind being recognised, and she shook Bryony's hand, saying, "Quirke's alright, but so's Orla." Sometimes formalities were important, but other times, Orla was fine without it. "Though if you insist on Ms Quirke, that's fine, too."

Taking her hand back, she continued to smile. "I've seen you around before, at a few Quidditch functions. It's nice to properly meet you!" she said, and meant it. Although she'd been aware of who the young witch was for quite some time now, she'd never properly met her. She may not have made it a point to befriend all of her teammates' friends and family (really, that just seemed a bit strange, didn't it?), she always tried to be friendly to them when she did.

Orla waved a hand dismissively at the question. "I'm alright. Getting knocked around is a bit of an occupational hazard, as it were, though I'm usually on a broom at the time," she joked.

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goodlight
2015-02-03 01:50 pm UTC (link)

The friendly gesture flustered her - leaving Bryony unsure what to do with either of her hands. Fortunately, Orla eventually let go and Bryony stopped internally berating herself for being social awkward - just like her mother always said - and returned her attention to the conversation. "Orla," she echoed because, as strange as it felt to call her by her first name, Bryony had learned over the last few months that most people of her generation did seem to prefer it. Even Bryony did, not wanting to be called 'Miss Capper' all the time. "It's nice to meet you too." Though she had always been fascinated by women who actually played professional quidditch, Bryony had known her mother would be scandalised if she dared actually talk to one of them. It was 'improper' as far as Iris was concerned and although she put up with them playing on the same team as her son she would never encourage her 'impressionable' daughter to associate with such people.

"I don't know how you do it," she breathed. Yearning to play quidditch and fly was one thing, but Bryony was certain she'd never be brave enough to risk getting a bludger aimed at her by someone of Marcus' built and strength. Not that Marcus would be aiming at Orla, he wasn't even a beater, but she'd known him for so long that he took the place of 'generic male quidditch player' in her mind more often than not. Thinking of Marcus, Bryony added, "You used to play for the Arrows, didn't you?"

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