Free Fall
@Stelle Mims
Speech
Flying. Such a mundane skill, one that Edwin had expected everyone to be capable of prior to starting Hogwarts, and so he had firmly believed that having compulsory flying classes was entirely pointless. It wasn't even as if Edwin was a good flier, he would, quite humbly, admit himself that he was only average. He could fly from A to B without danger, and these were skills that he'd developed as a child, flying around in fields with his father on his brothers old brooms. He'd never cared enough to ask for his own brooms, but he'd happily use his brothers, and he had assumed that every student would have had similar experiences as children.
It was shocking how wrong he had been. In the first lesson, he'd witnessed students failing to even get their brooms to raise, or slipping from their seats whilst the broom remained stationary. On the other side of the coin, there was those who dreamed of joining the quidditch or racing teams, who had quickly proven themselves capable in these classes, often going above and beyond to impress.
How had Edwin fared in these classes? He'd established himself as somewhat of a paragon for mediocracy. If he was asked to fly from A to B, he'd do exactly that at an impressively average speed, making no effort to extract any kind of pace from the aged school brooms, he'd simply follow the professors instructions to a tee. For other classes, he may have been tempted to make some effort in practical parts of the class, however even as lessons passed, he maintained that Flying was an entirely pointless class. He could accept that muggleborns maybe needed the classes, but why should purebloods have to learn? What kind of pureblood wouldn't have grown up with a broom at their disposal?
And so, lessons by passed, weeks blurring as the term progressed, Edwin continuing on and on with his mediocracy, practically existing in his own world during these classes, rarely paying attention past when when the tasks were set. That was until one particular lesson, where the professor opted for a new method.
"Today, you'll be in pairs." The professor began, beginning to list combinations of students. Edwin paid no attention to this, until he heard his own name being heard. "... Mims and Edwin Westbridge." He continued, until eventually he concluded. "Get yourselves briefly acquainted, and then I want you to go through basic drills with one another, watching each other, trying to spot mistakes. Often you'll miss mistakes when you fly by yourself, or do something careless without even noticing."
Missing the first part of someones name in a class filled with people he was already unfamiliar with was not helpful, and so he glanced about the classroom, searching for a face that looked just as lost as he was. Eventually, his gaze settled on a blond haired, and taking a guess that she would be his partner.
"Something Mims?" He asked, as he approached. "I'm Edwin, I think we're meant to be partners for this."
NOTE: godmod permission for professor has been granted
Free Fall
Flying. Such a magical ability, so impossible in the world Stelle came from. Before Hogwarts, the idea of soaring into the air on just a broomstick would have seemed absurd, something out of a fairy tale. And yet, here she was, in the middle of the flying field, her fingers trembling slightly on the wooden handle, feeling the weight of her reality shift.₊⁺⋆ Date: - | Number of words: 781 | Dialogue: #aa5713 ⋆⁺₊
She had seen other students take off naturally, some with rehearsed confidence and others with an arrogance that made her feel out of place. For many of them, this was nothing new. They talked about summers spent chasing each other on broomsticks around their backyards, about aerial duels with their siblings, about the first time their parents taught them to balance on a child’s broomstick. For Stelle, on the other hand, all of this was completely unfamiliar. The first time she tried to take off, the broom shook beneath her in such an unpromising way that she felt her stomach turn. She leaned forward, teeth clenched and expression tense, trying to imitate the fluid movements of her companions. But her hands were too stiff, her posture too awkward.
It wasn't that she was afraid, or at least that's what she wanted to say. It wasn't the fact of being in the air that worried her. It was the feeling of being behind, of being the only one who had never felt the breeze on her face from above, of not having grown up knowing that her body could defy gravity as easily as she walked. Her grandmother had never been interested in her learning about brooms, she said they were mundane and that there were much more elegant methods of getting around. And she especially hated Quidditch, she said it was too rough, for men. Her mother had told her that there was nothing wrong with such a sport, she had practiced it in secret from her grandmother and nothing had ever happened to her. But still, Stelle was hesitant and preferred to stay away from anything that could mean an ugly scar.
The weeks passed, and although she improved, she never felt completely in control. She knew enough to keep herself stable, to move from one point to another without falling, but the insecurity still throbbed in her. Every time she lifted off the ground, she wondered if flying would ever come as naturally to her as it did to everyone else. At least no one paid enough attention to her to make fun of her, so that was enough. Or at least that was what she thought before class that day. Stelle wasn't entirely sure what to think about the idea of working in pairs. She didn't dislike flying, but it wasn't something she was too excited about either. For her, it was just another skill she had to learn, and as with many other subjects, she found more pleasure in the experience itself than in the competition to excel.
When she heard his last name, she turned her head with moderate interest, wondering who she had been paired with. She didn't know everyone in the class well, and while she recognized a few names, "Westbridge" didn't sound familiar. She didn't have to look too far before she noticed a boy with a somewhat impassive expression and an air of boredom in his posture as he approached her. Stelle tilted her head curiously, analyzing him for a brief moment before answering. His tone wasn't hostile or particularly interested, just... neutral. He seemed bored, and now that she had him in front of her, she did recognize his lazy face from other things. Truthfully, she thought that if his expression wasn't so downhearted every time she saw him, he had some pretty good potential.
—Yeap, it seems like it—. she replied, her tone soft but without a trace of shyness as she offered him a soft smile. —Stelle, my name is Stelle. But you can call me Mims I suppose—.
She didn't add any more unnecessary words. In her experience, some people expected lively conversation and others just wanted to complete the task and move on. She wasn’t sure which category Edwin fell into, but he didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about the class, so there was no point in forcing a chat if it wasn’t necessary. What struck her most was his low energy level compared to other Gryffindors. Maybe he hadn’t slept well? She didn’t know, and actually she kind of liked it,sometimes it stunned her how loud they could be.
—Well—. she said, holding her broom, —I guess we should just watch each other. Do you want to start, or would you rather I do?—.
@Edwin Westbridge
You make me wanna make you fall in love───⊹ |
Stelle Mims - Huffelpuf |
Free Fall
@Stelle Mims
Speech
"Stelle, right, okay." He nodded at her introduction, the name now ringing a bell to what the professor had called out only moments prior. It really wouldn't hurt for him to stay paying a little bit more attention, at least enough to be able to place names to the faces that he would spend the next seven years around. However, whether or not he would pay attention would be a concern that he would have to address later.
Edwin was appreciative that she didn't lead off into some rambling introduction, mentioning her interests and what she thought of x,y or z. Whilst he was perhaps prone to doing just that at times, he found it tiresome when others overly complicated their first impressions, or attempted to force some burst of energy upon him. That didn't seem to be the case here, thankfully, him having been partnered with another person who shared his appreciation for a bit of quiet time.
Whilst his first impressions had began swimmingly, he did have to resist turning his nose up as his eyes were drawn to the yellow trimmings of her robes, the indicators of her being a Hufflepuff. He hadn't even any pride for his own house, but the words of his brothers, and the words of family members older families instinctively told him to hold his head high, act with a sense of pride that he at least was not a Hufflepuff. It was childish, he realised, and so after the briefest moments consideration, he eventually opted against it, deciding that perhaps he could encounter someone interesting from such an otherwise drab house.
"I can, I guess." He swung his leg over his broom, casually floating a few feet, so that the soles of his feet were perhaps just slightly above her head. "Or just go at the same time, that could work. It's not as if it's hard to fly, so we'll both be fine."
With those words, Edwin was off, darting off high above the ground with a show of speed that he typically didn't showcase during these classes. He continued to fly up, past the highest point they would typically reach in these classes. What had appeared to be a brief display of effort was instead nothing but what Edwin believed to be a clever ploy. Given he was much higher than was typical, and the speed that he'd darted off with, he hoped he'd be allowed a moments respite, no longer under the scrutinise eye of the professor. Assuming this, his posture on the broom relaxed, a practiced comfort and laziness now shown through his figure as he slowly drifted about in a wide circle.
After a moment, he thought back to his partner, wondering how she had fared in following him up to this height. "How are you doing?" He called down, not bothering to look down and check on her, assuming that she would be close enough to hear his yell.
Free Fall
Her gaze at the clothes she was wearing made her feel a little uncomfortable. What was wrong with her uniform? Was he going to keep staring at him like he was an ant? She'd think about that later. Watching him take off, she took a deep breath and raised her broom. Like in some other classes, some classmates would come up to her and ask if she needed help. She politely shook her head; she wasn't that useless. Secretly, she didn't want Edwin to see her as spoiled or, worse, useless. Stelle settled onto the broom with ease, though her posture betrayed a lack of habit rather than real nervousness. It wasn't that flying scared her,in fact, she found the idea exciting but she simply hadn't done it often. Still, when Edwin took off easily and launched himself into the air, Stelle wasn't far behind. She gripped the broom with determination and ascended quickly, feeling the wind push her hair back. She wasn't as fast or as agile as her classmate, but she didn't need to be either; Her flight was controlled and safe. As she climbed, her surroundings expanded, and the view from above took her breath away. The castle loomed in the distance, and the Hogwarts grounds seemed to stretch out endlessly beneath her feet.₊⁺⋆ Date: -| Number of words: 414| Dialogue: #aa5713 ⋆⁺₊
When she finally reached the height at which he had paused, she noticed that Edwin barely spared her a glance before blurting out his question. There was something in his tone disinterested, carefree, that made Stelle raise an eyebrow. She watched him closely, as if trying to decipher something in his relaxed expression, in the way he effortlessly drifted on the breeze.
—Good—. she replied, steadying her flight beside him; Just a little further down
Edwin didn't seem to bother answering immediately, which only reinforced her impression that he had no intention of taking the exercise seriously. Stelle shifted her gaze to the landscape below them, enjoying the sensation of height. However, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him give her another fleeting glance, as if assessing her without real interest. The idea made her a little uncomfortable (she didn't like feeling like someone was already categorizing her without exchanging more than a few words), so she held his gaze for a second longer than necessary before giving a small smile.
—So what now? Are you going to stay up there acting mysterious, or are we just going to get this done?—.
@Edwin Westbridge
You make me wanna make you fall in love───⊹ |
Stelle Mims - Huffelpuf |
Free Fall
@Stelle Mims
Speech
It was almost a shame that she had followed him without incident, whilst he had made the effort to appear concerned and ask how she had fared, every part of him had wished that she wouldn't respond, and would instead be still on her way to his height. But alas, he wouldn't quite get his break yet.
"Good to hear," He responded in a drawl as she steadied herself a little below him, though he made no effort to project his voice, so whether she would hear him was entirely uncertain.
"I was hoping to just stay here to be honest with you," He finally glanced down towards her, though as he did, he allowed himself a moment to glance over the castles grounds. From above, the castle only looked more beautiful, as did the grounds that stretched out from around the castle. Given that he had no attention to do any extra curricular flying, it wasn't like he had huge opportunities to see the castle from such a position, especially considering they never really flew quite this high. However his brief moment of reflection couldn't last, and he quickly continued. "I think this is pointles to be honest with you, I mean, who doesn't know how to fly? Just stick the muggleborns on brooms for a couple of weeks at the start of term, and that's all the flying classes anyone needs."
"I guess if you want to get on with it though," He straightened his posture with a sigh, grasping the broom tightly with both hands. Though after a moments pause, he remained rooted to the spot, confusion evident across his expression. He'd never paid enough attention to these classes to properly know what basic drills consist of, leaving him completely unsure as to what they should do.
"How about, uh.. You try and descend straight down, then pull out of that descent as late as you could?" It certainly wasn't a basic drill, nor was it something he was entirely sure he was capable of doing. However, he had once saw Quidditch players doing this drill, and it was the only thing springing to his mind.
"I'll watch from here, then follow after you and tell you how it looked, I guess. That sounds like what the Professor said to do." Whilst he spoke, he descended ever so slightly so that he was now level with her, giving himself a better view point, should she attempt the drill.
Free Fall
The breeze, which seemed to caress the height from where they stood, gave her a little relief, but it wasn't enough to quell the growing frustration within her. How could he speak in such a contemptuous manner about something so essential to the magical world? "Is he serious?" she wondered, not daring to say it out loud. Her gaze shifted toward the horizon, as if she were looking for an excuse to escape the conversation, although she knew there was no way to escape that reality.₊⁺⋆ Date: -| Number of words: 492| Dialogue: #aa5713 ⋆⁺₊
—We're not all born with the same opportunities—. she finally murmured, her voice barely rising. She didn't expect him to hear it. In fact, she didn't even want him to. But somewhere inside, she felt a little lighter for having said it, even if it was only to herself.
Did she really expect him to do that?
Stelle blinked a few times as she listened to him give instructions with a confidence that didn't match his previous demeanor. Something about the way he spoke gave her the feeling that… he had no idea what he was doing.
—Dive down and back out at the last moment?—. she repeated incredulously, not bothering to hide the eyebrow he'd just raised.
It was hard to tell if he was serious or if he just wanted to watch her crash to the ground for fun. Not that he seemed particularly malicious, but he didn't inspire confidence as an instructor either.She watched him with slightly pursed lips, trying to decide if it was worth discussing. She certainly hadn't heard the professor suggest anything like that. But here he was, swooping down a little to be level with her, giving her room to try it first.
—I see...—. she murmured, adjusting her grip on the broom.
It wasn't that he couldn't do it. He could fly well enough not to kill himself trying. But that didn't mean she was inclined to blindly follow his instructions. She lifted the broom, feeling the familiarity of his hands adjusting to the handlebars. —It's not that difficult—. she added, her voice calm, almost as if it were a way of showing him she wasn't impressed. —You just have to do it carefully—. And although she thought she could do it perfectly, she decided maybe she shouldn't assume it was that easy. She flew a little higher, alongside him, before beginning the descent, briefly enjoying the wind against her face.
As she got closer to the ground, a thought crossed her mind: what if she didn't make it? Thinking that made her feel really bad. That feeling of unease that formed a lump in her throat. Inevitably, she tightened her grip on her broom and, a few meters before the ground, lifted it, closing her eyes to stop herself. She felt her head jerk forward and opened her eyes. She took a deep breath, looked around, and with slightly trembling hands, she carefully arranged her hair.
@Edwin Westbridge
You make me wanna make you fall in love───⊹ |
Stelle Mims - Huffelpuf |
Free Fall
@Stelle Mims
Speech
Edwin hadn't heard the comment made by Stelles, instead his mind began to wander as he drifted aimlessly on his broom. As much as he disliked the subject, finding it utterly useless, he could appreciate these occasional moments. The moments where he flew freely on a broom, left completely to his own devices. Those moments were some of the most relaxing moments he would appreciate.
However, he did not allow his thoughts to drift too far, snapping himself out of the momentary daydreaming. He looked back over towards her as she spoke, offering only a small nod of acknowledgement at the question. Her tone was unsuprising, he realised as he reassesed the task in his mind, though he hadn't the chance to suggest another activity as she adjusted her grip atop the broom, appearing intent to carry out his request.
A grin tugged at the corners of the boys lips, as he drifted down closer to her, watching intently. "Very easy," He added to her monologue, his eyes fixed as she began her sudden descent. As she set into the sudden descent, thoughts played at the back of Edwin's mind, the grin immediately wiped from his face, replaced with a look of mild concern. An expression that was very atypical of him.
The move itself took skill, though Edwin assumed everyone had that level of skill, and was made easier by not having any of the mayham that came with a game of quidditch. However, school brooms were hardly famed for there consistency and the maneover may have been ambitious to ask for considering these factors. There was nothing that could be done now, though, and so Edwin watched, and watched. Waiting for her to pull out of her sharp descent.
And she did.
Edwin breathed a sigh of relief, angling his broom slightly so that he could get a view of the scene below. Now alone in the air, Edwin was left with a dilema. Did he follow in the same manner? It would only be fair of him, given he'd effectively forced that risk upon her. Though, as he pondered this, he landed on a single resounding conclusion. He could not be bothered.
With a rather dramatic sigh, he simply drifted down towards her, briefly releasing his grasp on the broom to lazily applaud her action once he had gotten within a reasonable distance of her. "Very impressive," He spoke with his usual drawl, though veiled beneath that there was some level of truth to his words, hints of admiration audible through his tone.
He spared a glance to the rest of the class around them, many continuing to fly back and forth excitedly, some making similar diving motions though not from the height the girl had just managed. "So," He began, "What now? This is awfully boring now, I can't even think of anything fun to ask you to do."
Free Fall
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╰───► ❛ Art Deco (Allure in Effect). ❜۵
₊⁺⋆ Date: ---| Number of words: 362| Dialogue: #aa5713 ⋆⁺
Stelle was brushing her hair out of her face when she heard his voice again, unable to avoid his English accent. Why did his attitude seem obvious to her now? She didn't like judging people, but his attitude was starting to get under her skin. She took a deep breath, pushing those thoughts out of her head, and carefully tied her hair, smoothing down some flattened curls. —So... you're from England, and based on your comment earlier, you're a pureblood, was that right?—. she asked, not responding to his compliment with a sweet smile.
Although he wasn't particularly pleasant, he wasn't that annoying either. She felt like there might be something good beneath all those layers of sarcasm and his mocking tone; deep down. On the other hand, her nerves had already passed. She could get used to staying on a broomstick forever, even if it wasn't the most elegant thing in the world; she could fix that. She stretched one of her arms forward while closing one eye and pretending to chase other students with her finger, who looked tiny from her position. Like many other things. Even things they experienced daily, at the end of the day, they were just small things. Although she liked small things, she had a particular eye for details, especially when it came to someone she liked.
Stelle was calm until Edwin had to ruin the moment. —You have such a big mouth—. she muttered, letting out a slight note of annoyance. —Can’t you think of anything fun to ask me to do? I’m not a toy or a dog. We’re supposed to be completing a class activity—. she added, looking at him and trying to be as calm as she could. But being treated like a buffoon? That was offensive. She looked around, wondering why, of all people in the world, she had been chosen by someone so conceited. After thinking for a few silent minutes, she looked back at him. —You’re supposed to know, aren’t you? How about you... show me a trick?—. he asked with real interest. It might be nice after all, but it wasn't just his will that made it happen.
ABILITIES: Part-Veela
INTERACTIONS + MENTIONS:@Edwin Westbridge
You make me wanna make you fall in love───⊹ |
Stelle Mims - Huffelpuf |
Free Fall
@Stelle Mims
Speech
Edwin offered a slight nod of his head to her question, "Yeah, I'm from London." Given her own accent, it did not take a genius to deduct her own origin, though he figured it would be polite to return the questioin. Before he had so the chance to ask, barley having even opened his mouth, a second question was shot his way. "What co- Yeah, I'm Pureblood." He waved off his own question, figuring the comment she referred was something linked to his expectation of others flying ability. His affirmation of his blood status was laced with that all too familiar sense of pride that so many other purebloods spoke with.
"Scottish, I'm guessing?" He eventually asked, quickly adding on. "Given you seem capable enough on a broom," Perhaps he was underselling her capabilities given the previous maneovuer. "I'd imagine your parents are magical as well?"
It seemed a reasonable assumption to make. There hadn't been anything resembling the fear or nerves that so many muggleborns displayed when flying freely for the first time, so her comfort implied at least some familiarity with flying, if only having watched others fly as a child.
The comment about his supposed big mouth caused a brow to raise from the Westbridge. He'd been called many things, he had been called numerous things, often by his elder brothers, but for someone so often reserved, being called mouthy was a new insult. There was a brief pause as he dwelled on the word, deciding whether to take insult or not. The grin that quickly returned to his expressioned betrayed that he was more amused by anything, he leant forward on his broom, listening intently to her complaint.
"We are doing a class activity," He drawled in response, many pairs darting to and fro around them. In fact, in the entire class, it seemed that they were the only pair who were floating idly, though no other pair was seeming to attempt a manoveur as the one Stelle had managed only moments prior. "I can try something, I guess." He said to her demand, his eyes flicking up and down, searching for an empty clear spot.
He had found himself in a bit of a pickle, truthfully. He could replicate the trick he had asked her to do, but that would be boring. Though, it was just about the only trick he could pull off with any confidence, as most of his time flying at home, he had been stuck as a Keeper for his brothers whilst they played quidditch, so he hardly had any fancy flying ideas. "Uh.." He muttered stupidly, his grip tightening around the brooms shaft as he began to drift higher, and higher.
As he thought, only a single idea came to mind. He'd seen his brothers do it countless time, often with ease, but he had never really been successful in his attempts, often slipping and falling to the floor.
"This?" He eventually asked, his legs hooking tightly beneath the broom whilst his grip loosened, his locked legs ensuring his balance. With that, he dropped his body left, his grip retightening almost immediately. For the briefest of moments, Edwin hung upside down on his broom, his legs wrapped so tightly around the broom that he would likely have a broom shaped indent down them. For the moment he was upside down, his hands also tightened to an incredible extent.
He was upside down for perhaps all of a second, before he exerted a herculean effort to swing himself back around, returning to a normal sitting position. "Enough flying for me," He muttered quietly, floating back down towards Stelle. Despite having been successful, his grip had not yet loosened, his knuckles white from grasping his broom so firmly. That grin that typically decorated his expression was wiped, replaced by no true expression, just about able to suppress the panic that had welled whilst he had briefly been upside down.
"Happy? I think we're meant to fly some more, but I'm bored of this."