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Tweak says, "COWABUNGA!!!"

Oliver Wood (olliewood_) wrote in junctusic,
@ 2018-11-05 17:01:00

Entry tags:

!thread, character: candace quaye, character: oliver wood

who ? Oliver Wood/Open
when ? 5th November, Early afternoon
where ? Godric's Hollow near the Centre
what ? Magic Marshmallows and mayhem
warnings/rating ? SFW (language)
status ? Ongoing

The fall sunshine spilled through Godric's Hollow bright and surprisingly warm for early November, punctuated by the occasional puffy cloud floating lazily in the crisp, azure sky. Oliver walked aimlessly through the bustling Hollow, his mind far away in London where he - yet again - had canceled another meeting with his divorce lawyer, his wife and her representation. If he didn't acknowledge it the awful truth was easier to rationalize away as not truly happening. Sure, Elizabet would send a howler and his lawyer would give that disapproving frown Oliver had come to know all too well.

So far removed from that source of unpleasantness, Oliver stared at the beautiful fall foliage rustling softly against their branches and migrating listlessly across the path he walked. The Hollow bustled with both children and adults taking advantage of these last beautiful warm days, complete with vendors peddling various treats. One such caught his eye with a sign promising hot chocolate with a 'ridiculously huge marshmallow'. Internally a battle raged inside Oliver: one of the disciplined Quidditch player who viewed his body as a tool and should be kept at peak operational capacity (meaning no junk food), and the lover of all things sweet, savory, sugary, and fried. Hadn't he behaved himself, though? Even during Halloween he'd resisted taking even a tiny chocolate bar. Hadn't he focused on shifting his exercise to winter in order to combat the natural seasonal slowing of the metabolism and inevitable holiday bulk? Hot coco and a marshmallow wouldn't do much damage.

The elderly woman behind the trolley smiled brightly and offered a jaunty little wave, brightening Oliver's mood even further.

"Ey up, lad!" She greeted in a strong Yorkshire accent, causing Oliver to pause for a moment to work out her words. "You need to sup up, now!" Her frail hands moved with surprising speed ladling the delicious hot chocolate into a paper cup and plopping a tiny white speck into the drink. Upon touching the drink it grew into a comically large size. Oliver marveled at the puff, paid, ("Ta, son, tarra!") and walked away. He prodded the marshmallow; it felt delightfully squishy yet firm while the heat from the drink warmed his hand. Without further thought he took a deep sip of the silky smooth, deliciously complex coco drink and a nibble of the perfectly fluffy and vanilla marshmallow.

This is how a fall day should be.

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fullvoice
2018-11-07 11:45 am UTC (link)

Being a member of the WI, and leader of the choir, Candace had obviously received advanced notice of the fireworks display being held at the Community Centre, but even so the day itself had managed to sneak up on her. This was always a confusing time of year, as in order for the choir to have enough time to practice its Christmas numbers, Candace had to start arranging them well before Halloween. Having been humming Christmas tunes for a fortnight, it was difficult to remember that the Christmas season was still a long way off, and that other celebrations naturally came first. It hadn't been until she'd looked up from her afternoon tea that Candace had noticed the hustle and bustle of vendors and visitors heading to and from the Community Centre. It was still light outside, too early for the fireworks to start, and Candace had nothing particularly pressing to do, so she decided to see if she could offer her services in any way.

Several of the vendors were people Candace recognised, either from the WI or the choir, but they all seemed to have a handle on what they were doing, without any need of extra hands. Candace walked slowly along the river, missing the days when she would've brought her children along, the days when this would've provided a welcome distraction for them, and a welcome chance to socialise for herself. On the other hand, she was grateful she no longer needed distraction, that her own life now provided more than enough excitement in the form of performances. Still, she wished she'd remembered in time to ask Alba if she'd like to come - though, presumably her daughter would be spending the evening with her friends. Lost in her own thoughts, Candace didn't notice Oliver until she was nearly on top of him, reaching out a hand to steady herself against his arm. "I'm sorry," she said, chuckling. "I should watch where I'm going, especially when there are so many people about." She tried to pull her hand back, and found that she couldn't, though there was nothing visibly stopping her. "Have you been using a sticking charm to help put up decorations?" she asked.

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olliewood_
2018-11-09 03:05 am UTC (link)

Blissfully unaware of the immediate world around him while lost in aimless thoughts of hot chocolate (how often would that lady bring her trolley? Just how many calories was this drink anyway? What happened if she added two marshmallows?) Oliver hadn't noticed he'd wandered right into Candace's path.

"Och! Sorry hen!" Moving with the lightning fast speed from a lifetime of muscle memory his hand raised to brace the woman squarely on the back. "Dinnae see you there." A flush of embarrassment warmed his cheeks; a Keeper should never be unaware of his surroundings... That is how rival Chasers manage to score. As Oliver let his hand fall he found it came to a halt at his wrist with an odd jerk: his hand remained firmly planted onto the woman's back. "Ehm, no, you didn't, I suppose?"

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fullvoice
2018-11-09 10:30 pm UTC (link)

Though he was probably two decades her junior, Oliver's secure hold made Candace feel almost like a girl again, and she had a sudden flash of insight into why Narcissa might enjoy dating a man barely older than her son. "There's no harm done," she assured him, trying to wriggle her fingers off Oliver's arm as she spoke. As long as some part of her body remained connected, she seemed to have some movement, but her hand sticking to Oliver like a magic was a surreal image, and she giggled. "Well, some mischief managed, I suppose," she amended. "Whatever is the matter?"

When Oliver's hand tried to jerk away, and failed, Candace tried adding her own weight to it with a determined effort to pull away from the offending (though not offensive) limb. It made no apparent difference. "No, I've only just come out to see what all the excitement is," Candace said. "Maybe a stray sticking charm missed something and struck one of us." It was hard to say which. "I can reach my wand with my left hand, I think. I'm not as good with it as my right, but for a simple spell it ought to pass muster."

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olliewood_
2018-11-10 07:09 pm UTC (link)

Another hopeful tug - this time curiously - and a furrowed brow turned Oliver's friendly expression into one of confusion. Candace couldn't remove her hand either.

"I'm not really sure," he answered, trying in vain to remove his hand stuck firmly on her back. Despite Candace's very sturdy body Oliver felt apprehension to use his full strength and run the risk of hurting her. "Seems we're a bit stuck, yeah? Give that spell a try." After all, his only free hand still clutched the half drunk hot coco.

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fullvoice
2018-11-12 01:26 pm UTC (link)

Candace gave a low chuckle, her earrings swaying slightly as she nodded her head. "A bit," she agreed, smiling at what seemed to be definitely an understatement of things. Reaching her wand was a little awkward, and Candace was grateful she and Oliver had at least one previous interaction under their belts. "So how have you been?" she asked, mostly to ease any tension there might be. Even if they were stuck, it didn't seem any reason to panic. "Have all your young quidditch players gone back to school?" It was on Candace's mind, because she was missing her own son, and she'd forgotten that most of Oliver's students were probably young enough not to be attending Hogwarts just yet.

Casting a 'finite incantatum', Candace tried once more to slide her hand from Oliver's arm. It didn't work, and she wrinkled her nose as she tried to recall whether there was a counter-charm for a sticking spell. "One of my friends told me she ate a halloween sweet which made her skeleton glow in the dark," she said aloud, not really connecting it to their current situation. "No matter how old one is, there's just no escape from the fact that magic sometimes acts in mysterious ways." Recalling a charm that dissolved sticking potions, Candace gave that a try, to no effect. "Well, this isn't ideal," she said, though she couldn't help but keep smiling. "Am I keeping you from being anywhere urgent?" If so, they might need to ask for help. If not, Candace was sure they could figure it out themselves, given enough time.

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olliewood_
2018-11-14 11:45 pm UTC (link)

The situation, while bizarre, wasn't worrisome. Candace seemed just as bemused as himself though her polite small talk made the situation feel less awkward; afterall he'd dealt with reporters standing much closer.

"Aye, the older barras." Oliver smiled proudly, as though they were his own children. "The wee ones are still about, so I've added an afternoon session for them. They seem to like it, and the parents too; they socialize and thank me for tiring out their bairns." The polite conversation ended with the attempt to spell themselves apart, and Oliver gave a hopeful - but unsuccessful - tug.

He hmm'd thoughtfully, and took another sip of the hot cocoa, figuring it a shame to go to waste. Another attempt, no luck. "Just a mo', hen, lemme pitch this," he indicated to the cheerfully steaming cup and drained the contents in one large gulp. Regarding the marshmallow with a sad, longing look, he decided to pass on trying to devour it swiftly for the sake of being polite in Candace's company. "Nah, was just out for a stroll. I have the day off since I was supposed to be in London," a flicker of sadness danced behind his dark blue eyes. "But I had to cancel. Heard it's raining there anyway." His head swiveled this way and that, trying to locate a trash can. "I'll bin this, yeah? We might have better luck with an extra hand."

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fullvoice
2018-11-17 08:43 am UTC (link)

"Of course," Candace said, remembering that Oliver's students had ranged in age. "It's a lovely thing you're doing, and I'm sure the parents are grateful for a chance to talk about adult things for a while. I certainly would have been, when my three were small." Candace had been lucky enough to have help parenting, if she'd wanted it, so she could've simply chosen to go out to socialise and leave her children in someone else's care, but she'd always preferred taking them with her. "Do you prefer to structure it so that the parents can't pepper you with question the entire time?" she asked. "I imagine that must be a risk, as someone famous."

Oliver having a free hand to work with would probably be helpful, so Candace nodded, though she did wince slightly, afraid he would burn himself on the hot drink. "Aren't you going to eat your marshmallow?" she asked, seeing it sitting, still plump and squishy, in the bottom of Oliver's cup. "That's always the best part of a hot chocolate, isn't it?" At least, it was to Candace's sweet tooth. "What were you supposed to be doing in London?" she asked, curious what the rain had prevented Oliver from enjoying.

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olliewood_
2018-11-19 08:59 pm UTC (link)

Oliver regarded Candace with a sort of quiet admiration for the way she spoke about the long-passed youth of her children. While he'd never met them, Oliver was sure they would have nothing but praise for her child-rearing efforts. She seemed like the type of mother who would be firm but fair and loving; perhaps not unlike his favorite professor at Hogwarts: Minerva McGonagall. "Ehm, no, I think the shock of who I am has worn off, really," Oliver confessed with a warm laugh. It had been a concern brought up multiple times by not only his manager but Puddlemere's management as well when approached with the idea for Oliver to teach these classes. Puddlemere, ever conscious of not only their image worried about fans accessing their most marketable, star player too easily. One PR intern even mused aloud that it might hurt overall revenue streams, in which Oliver loudly countered he isn't some product on a shelf and pushed for the classes to become a reality. "Though they do like to chat about Quidditch matches from time to time. I dinnae mind, it's nice to talk about it from a fan's perspective." Oliver envied those who could sit back and actually enjoy a match; he'd lost that ability long ago, if he ever had it to begin with. "The parents are pretty invested in their kid's training, though. Most are there for the right reasons."

Looking down at the marshmallow, Oliver hesitated for a moment before taking a small, yet polite, bite. Candance didn't need to witness his attempt of stuffing a ridiculously huge marshmallow in his mouth no matter how delicious. This bite also offered him time to find the right words explaining his business in London; lying seemed cheap and insulting to someone currently stuck to him. "Contracts and the like." It wasn't untrue, though the note in his voice wavered slightly while not exactly meeting Candace's eye. "Right, let's bin this. Ready? Gonna be like a three-legged race."

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fullvoice
2018-11-21 09:09 am UTC (link)

"I suppose that's very true," Candace observed. "You are just a normal person, really, and given enough time it becomes easier and easier to forget anything else." While Candace didn't think of herself as famous, because no one really knew her name, and rather they booked or remembered her as simply 'that Celestina Warbeck tribute', she could somewhat sympathise with the feeling. Someone who met her once or twice might think of her only in a professional capacity, but anyone who spent any length of time with her would come to realise she was many things beyond that. She gave a laugh, when Oliver said he didn't mind talking about quidditch. "I would think that would be a problem for your career, if you preferred not to talk about quidditch," she observed. "Do they hope for their children to play professionally, or are they just hoping to get them onto the Hogwarts teams?" Candace asked.

While Candace wouldn't have been offended by Oliver showing enthusiasm for his treat, she put his reticence down to his profession. Presumably, sweets were not something his diet contained a very great deal of. "Right," she agreed, with a laugh. It took them a few moments, pulling in the wrong directions, before they managed to get into a rhythm. It wasn't so much like a three-legged race as it was an awkward sort of shuffling dance step. They did manage to make it over to the bin, earning a few odd looks on their way. "Oh dear, I do hope this isn't going to get misinterpreted by some journalist," Candace said, foreseeing headlines splashed across the sports pages. As for Oliver's 'contracts', Candace didn't quite believe him, but it was also none of her business if her preferred not to tell her. She did wonder if perhaps he were arranging a move from Puddlemere, to some other team. "What do we do now?" she asked, feeling temporarily out of ideas.

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olliewood_
2018-11-21 06:58 pm UTC (link)

At least Candace understood that - despite his face seemingly everywhere - Oliver was nothing more than an average person. He felt a rush of wordless gratitude towards the woman, and smiled warmly.

"Och, good point hen." Oliver chuckled; no one could say he lacked in Quidditch-centric conversation. If anything he'd scaled back over the years after a reporter had written Oliver might possibly nothing more than a Quidditch advertisement charmed to life. The realization that his life literally had always been about the sport shook him more than Oliver cared to admit, and sent him on a journey to explore other aspects of himself. Only then did Oliver discover he loved to cook, surf, and going to the cinema. "A few parents want their bairn to go pro, but," A strained expression pulled at his features. "I don't make any promises. You can't teach talent." Even with a top pro teaching not everyone would make the cut for a school team, let alone professional leagues.

At first trying to walk proved awkward and a bit difficult. Candace's height worked in their favor, her own long legs filling the gap made by Oliver's wide strides. "Won't that make for a headline " Oliver mused with a fox-like grin. Puddlemere's PR department would have an absolute meltdown if such a story were to circulate, not to mention make the divorce more unpleasant. Good. A savage little voice whispered deep in the back of his mind. A bin swam into view and with the skills honed from a lifetime of tossing quaffles launched the cup into a graceful arc into the rubbish bin with a satisfying flump

What did they do now indeed? Looking at Candace's hand, Oliver shrugged. "I... I'm not really sure." It felt odd not having a solution. "Should we try a clinic?"

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fullvoice
2018-11-22 09:42 pm UTC (link)

"Did you always follow Puddlemere, or are they just who you happen to play for?" Candace asked, curious. "I can't say I know very many professional quidditch players, and the people I know who are very deeply invested in the sport tend to have supported one particular team since they were children. Surely they can't all get signed by their favourite team, though." The laws of probability made it quite unlikely. "Do you have to learn to have loyalty for the team that hire you?" It was all very interesting, and a topic which felt far removed from Candace's own experiences. At Oliver's words, Candace sighed. "Indeed you can't," she agreed. "I'm lucky, everyone I teach is an adult already, and most come in far underestimating their talent, rather than the opposite." There were some, of course, who were convinced they were god's gift, and had to be appropriately protected from reality.

She laughed, because the headline - if it came - would do her no harm. The tone of Oliver's voice rather implied he wasn't worried about it, either. "Easier to brush off than I were some lithe young thing, rather than a woman old enough to be your mother," she said. And then, thinking of Narcissa, added, "Though it does happen." Despite that, she assumed less people would believe it.

Going to St Mungo's had seemed a bit drastic, but Oliver's mention of a clinic reminded Candace that there was a healer's office in Godric's Hollow, which might not yet be closed. "Do you think we can walk all the way there?" she asked, somewhat doubtfully. "It would be easier to apparate, but if we walk, we might find other people in similar situations."

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olliewood_
2018-11-23 12:18 am UTC (link)

"My whole life!" Oliver's eyes lit up with fierce pride. Puddlemere had always been his team for as long as he could remember and having been their first pick upon graduation still seemed like a story he'd read about in one of the countless Quidditch books lining the shelves of his childhood bedroom. Despite his father having been a Beater of note for Pride of Portree and the less-than-subtle guiding of his children to root for Angus Wood's team, Oliver stood firm in his choice. "I never had to worry about learning loyalty, and Puddlemere is very slow to change out players. Our management works very hard to create a seamless cohesion with the team and any problems are ironed out. We'd rather not shift around the team too much." Oliver loved discussing the finer points of Quidditch teams and the inner workings of a successful team. Perhaps another time when they weren't awkwardly stuck together.

Of course the headlines were voracious for any headline regarding Oliver and his love life; the hopeless romantic who wanted nothing more than to have a wife and family seen with a mysterious woman - especially much older than him - would sell headlines for a man known for his wholesome image. He opened his mouth too make such a comment, but thought better of it, and instead grinned. Candace didn't have to elaborate; plenty of older women made advances at him over the years.

Nodding in agreement, Oliver inclinded his head toward the Centre. "Yeah, hen, good plan." They'd have to keep an eye open for another couple shuffling awkwardly. "Well, onwards then?"

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fullvoice
2018-11-23 09:25 pm UTC (link)

Oliver's obvious pride made Candace laugh, not because it was silly, but just because it was so genuine. "You're very lucky, then," she said. "At least, I assume you are. Is it rare for people to stay with the one team they've always followed for their whole career? Or does whoever picks players look into whatever loyalties people might have had in the past?" Candace knew, in a vague sort of way, that some people chose to play quidditch for Ireland or Scotland, despite having an equal (or better) claim to another national team, simply because Scotland and Ireland were better. Presumably, something similar was possible on a more regional scale. "And do you think that means they do better than teams that change out players more quickly?" she asked. It was clear Oliver liked talking about quidditch, and maintaining a conversation just made their whole situation less awkward.

"Onward," Candace agreed. Now that they had the rhythm of it, walking was easier, and they didn't have to cling quite so close together. "Has this put a dampner on your evening, or will you still stay out for the fireworks?" Candace asked. For herself, she intended to stay and watch them, as long as their predicament was solved by then.

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