|empty journal (fameandglory) wrote in wished,|
@ 2010-08-21 12:57:00
|Entry tags:||!2003:08, !incomplete, luna lovegood, marcus flint|
Who: Marcus Flint and Luna Lovegood
When: Saturday Day
Where: Peasegoode Quidditch and Wizarding Park
What: While Marcus goes through his usual training regiment before the season starts he runs into someone acting.. a bit strange.
Rating: PG-13 maybe, depending on his use of bad language.
Open/Closed: Open to Luna Lovegood for now
He was always weary of practicing in public just before the start of a season but everyone was so obsessed with the practices of the international teams that he didn't think there would be a soul at Peasegoode Wizarding Park. When he apparated within the magical grounds he was pleased to know his prediction was pretty spot on. A quaffle under one arm and a broom in hand he sighed heavily, squinted at the small pitch that kids used from time to time to pretend they were Quidditch stars under the supervision of their parents. The goals were slightly blurry but if he narrowed his eyes they came into focus better.
He needed to get another round of charms done on his eyes before the season started. Marcus strode up to the pitch and chucked his broom outward. The broom snapped into place, hovered in mid-air and the silver tipped twigs gleamed in the light of the bright sun. Marcus shifted onto the thing and lifted off with one strong push off the ground. The quaffle was thrown the moment he was high enough and the thing, enchanted to whiz around the pitch, allowed him chance to practice his techniques in capturing.
But everytime he got close to the damned thing his swipes missed four times out of five. It was like his depth perception was completely off and it got to the point that after ten goes he got extremely frustrated and flew harder into the damn thing then he intended. He didn't catch the quaffle now, but rather his broom shoved it hard off course and the enchantment must've gone wonky because the way it moved after that was more like a bludger.
"God.. dammit.." he flew after it and only when he was an arms length away did he notice it was hurling toward somebody who was walking about the park near the pitch.
"OY! WATCH OUT!" Marcus sped up and managed to jump off his broom and tackle the Quaffle to the ground. His whole body slammed into the ground and the weight of his body on the Quaffle seemed to be enough to keep it from getting out of his grip. Marcus groaned, shifted over to lay on his back so he could fish his wand out of his robe's inner pocket and take the charm off. Then he spread his arms and let the quaffle roll off of his chest and onto the grass. He glanced over to his right and saw his broom hovering in place, waiting for him to mount again. He had grass stains on his robes and his body ached.
"Son of a bitch..."