Pip Parkinson is the real Captain Canuck (majormoose) wrote in neeps, @ 2017-12-28 15:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log, pip parkinson, sara scrimgeour |
WHO: Sara Scrimgeour, Pip Parkinson
WHAT: scrimmy and Pip have an encounter in the locker room
BINGO: Write with a Chaser, Set In Portree
WHEN: Thursday, 21 December 1999
WHERE: Porter Locker Room
WARNING: Meek Meeses
RATING|STATUS: Low, Complete
Having finally gotten ahold of the statistics for the season so far, Pip was not particularly pleased with his performance. This was his first season with the BIL and there was a different style (and level) of play in the British Isles over the North American Continent. He wasn't even playing a full season.
Even with those reasons, which sounded more like excuses in his own mind, Pip found his performance unsatisfactory. He was a World Cup level Seeker and wanted to prove that the sport of Quidditch was just as high level at home then in Europe. However, he couldn't do that if he couldn't catch the damn snitch. So extra practices were on the docket until he could turn those numbers around.
From behind the giant, a miniature chaser spoke up, her voice far bigger than her size. “OI! Are ye going to stand around and block the door all day?!” Hands on her hips, Scrimmy glared up at Pip, ready for when he finally turned around. She did not come for extra practice just to have a giant moose stop her at the locker room door!
"Oh, I'm sorry." Pip looked over his shoulder to see Scrimmy standing there, looking a bit more than terrifying, if he wanted to be honest. "I didn't," he broke off. See you there would probably throw her into some sort of offensive tailspin that he didn't mean. "I didn't mean to block your way. Lost in thought, I guess."
Moving over to his locker, he began to divest himself of his cloak and other civilian clothes for a spare kit that would not impede his movements as he sprinted and spun across the pitch.
Scrimmy glared daggers at him. Say it, I dare you. As someone who had been short all her life, she knew when people were stumbling past a commonly used short joke. Intentional or not!
But when he didn’t stumble into that mistake Scrimmy crossed her and nodded as if to say Yeah, you knew better than that! At least the giant moose was out of the doorway so she could change. And maybe he’d be gone by then. Or maybe he’d be taking up space at the pitch. He was so big there’d be barely any room for her! Maybe North American quid pitches were huge to accommodate their meese.
Once she finished changing she realized that maybe they should hash out who was going to use what parts of the pitch. Clearly he got ‘lost in thought’ a lot and didn’t heed tiny people who needed to use the space too!
“Oi! Moose giant Pip! What part of the pitch are ye taking up? No blocking my hoops! I need those!”
After affixing the last of his padding, Pip straightened, only looking over at Scrimmy when she called over to him. "I can take whichever side you don't favor. I'm not picky." He wasn't sure if that was the right answer or not or even if there was a right answer, but since it did not matter to him he had to at least try.
Until Scrimmy responded, Pip busied himself by checking his broom over and charming his padding to be weighted. If he got used to flying heavier than he actually was, it would help with his endurance and speed when it actually mattered.
“Do ye need a whole side?! Aren’t ye the seeker? Can’t ye take the top or some shite? Whatcha need the hoops for?” Hands on her hips Scrimmy glared him down for a moment before throwing her hands up in the air and giving a dramatic sigh before he could even respond. Some meese! Hogging all the air space!
"And the snitch can be unpredictable. It can go from high to low at a whim," he replied placidly, though a bit unsure as to why he had to explain basic game mechanics to a starting player. Or a player at all in the League. "I certainly do not want to interfere with your own practice, which is why I asked."
He leaned on his broom and waited for her to respond, hoping that she wouldn't find some hidden insult when all he wanted to do was to make sure they would not get into one another's way. If that happened, even on accident, he did not see it ending well.
She sighed again, with more exasperation, and rolled her eyes at him. “And it can go from side to side on a whim if yer using a real snitch then ye bumlat!” Even more irritated that he seemed to be talking down to her. He was tall enough already, he didn’t need to talk down on top of all that! “So yer picking a side was pointless too!”
Ugh this moose! If she hadn’t been so determined to keep her good match streak going she might’ve just left, but no way she was going to let some giant moose push her out! No way, not him or all the other damn meese off way over on the other side of the pond. “Well try tae stay outta my way then. Hmph!”
Pip told himself that he should let it go, but there was a certain point where even he could admit that if things were going to continue as they were, he could not see himself at Portree for more than this season. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" He asked the chaser, point blank. "Because I would appreciate it if you just told me rather than be rude and passive-agressive about how I may have offended you. That way I can avoid doing it again in the future."
Scrimmy stopped her march to the door and spun around to face him with a glare that was even more intense than the previous ones. “Passive-aggressive? Are ye deaf?! I’m not being passive, I’m just being aggressive!” How he could mistake those two things was beyond her.
“Well alright ye thick-headed bumlat. It’s because yer so merlin fucking TALL and think ye can just waltz in here with yer giantness and take all the little spots because oh the last seeker messed up in two fucking matches after a giant break and a war and ye come in from helga damned middle of nowhere where they don’t even like quid as much and yer supposed tae be some saviour for the team? What’s next? We’re all gonna be replaced by ye giant meese because we all need to be giants now and what we’re doing isn’t good enough fer ye fancy arse American quid?”
“And all ye do is talk down tae me or maybe ye just can’t hear what I say because yer ears are all the way up there and I’m not yelling in yer face! And don’t ye pretend that whole ‘oh I dinnae know’ shite. Just because I can’t see yer expressions doesn’t mean I hafta put up with them!” In her anger Scrimmy mounted her broom in the locker room and flew up to him, hovering just above his height so they could at least see eye to eye for once. “Well I’ll show ye. I can be just as good as ye, I don’t care that yer giant or a fancy import or supposed tae be some bigshot moose, yer gonna see.”
Pip opened his mouth and then closed it. Honestly, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the furious onslaught. Was she the only one who felt this way? Or were there others on the team? He had not come to Portree to cause problems, but to challenge himself with a whole new style of playing. Yet clearly his mere presence was causing some sort of issue.
If this were any other situation he would have tried to reason with his teammate, to find some sort of middle ground that would make them both happy. Or he would simply point out how many of her concerns were unfounded. It was clear, however that nothing he could say would resolve her issues with him. “I see,” Pip said slowly, his voice soft, a sharp contrast to the chaser’s heated tones. “I’m sorry that I’ve been causing so many problems.”
He ducked around her hovering form and headed back to his locker. “I won’t stand in your way. Enjoy your time on the pitch.”
Scrimmy let out an even more frustrated sigh and threw her hands up. “And that sort of shite! What’s wrong with ye?! If yer being challenged, rise up to it! Don’t shrink back and crawl into whatever corner. Is this how ye play? When someone gives ye a hard time ye run? That just makes all of that worse!” Somehow the way he just took things and gave no push back enraged her all the more. How were ye supposed to respect someone who wasn’t going to stand up fer himself? He was giant!
“At least if I knew ye could take a hard time I could respect it. But if yer going to come crashing in here as the first of the big meese takeover, at least stand up fer yerself! Yer tall enough!”
Pip's eyes hardened, minutely, but he tried not to frown. Confrontation had never been his strong suit, even more so in recent years, but there was no way he was going to be able to avoid it now. Slowly, he turned to face the younger player, keeping his back flush up against the lockers. It wasn't so he let himself be backed into a literal corner, but to force him to stand still. "Yes, thank you, for once again bringing my height and size to the forefront of a matter that they really have nothing to with." He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before squaring his shoulders.
"I am not going to get into an argument with you as you have already made it clear that nothing I can, do, or say will change your mind. I like to avoid arguments, especially with teammates." That was all he was going to say on the matter. If Sara Scrimgeour didn't like it, and she probably wouldn't, there wasn't anything he could do about it. It was never Pip's intentions to cause tensions or rifts within the team. If his presence was really that disturbing he would certainly step back to allow the team to flourish.
As far as she was concerned, his size had plenty to do with it. But that hardened look in his eyes was at least a little better, apparently he had some little spine buried under there, so she let that point go for now. Still, Scrimmy rolled her eyes at him. “I’ve got a list of things ye can do that’d make ye more tolerable, but ye’d just back off and shrink away. So whatever ye lug.”
“If you have concerns or suggestions on how I could better perform as a player, I welcome your input or feel free to tell our coach, otherwise,” Pip reached blindly back to grab his wand and scarf, “I don’t think we have anything else to discuss.”
With his items in hand, he skirted around her and out the door. The sooner he got out of the Porter facilities, the better. He could figure out everything else after the fact.