Brooms and Bruises
Ava shouldn’t have been surprised at the violent turns that the sports at Hogwarts would take, but she still couldn’t help but be shocked at one of the latest Quidditch games. She may have been a broomracer, but that didn’t mean she was numb to it all. All of the sports had their own risks associated with them, but she had never expected to see a first year beat up as badly as she had ended up being beat up during that game. The first year had endured hit after hit, managing to keep playing until the game finally came to its brutal end.
That was the type of player Ava could get behind, someone brave and tough. Not just as a player, but as a person. Ava couldn’t help but admire them, and wanted to see what the first year was all about. She figured the easiest way to do that was to visit the hospital wing, where most players were sure to be after such a game. It wasn’t as if she were only visiting for that, she was also expected to check in as a broomracer. Last week’s race had been rough, although they all were. She was still a bit ginger from it, but there wasn’t much that magic couldn’t heal. Soreness in the magical world usually meant applying some potion and fixing it magically.
Ava entered the hospital wing, quickly searching and finding the player she had admired, although she had to ignore the voice in the back of her mind warning her of the dangers of interacting with a Gryffindork. At the very least, it was a very cool, very tough Gryffindork. As she drew closer, she also had to note that it was also a very young student. First or second year, although she had a feeling it was a first year. She wasn’t sure, as it was hard to keep up with all of the students, especially the younger ones.
She approached the younger student quietly, eyes marking what seemed to be injuries, bruises and scratches, all hazards in playing Quidditch. “Woah, you did amazing out there today. That was no easy match.”
Actually, Ava wasn’t sure whether the team had won or lost that match, she had been more enthralled in the whole performance. It wasn’t as if she understood the rules of the game, but she loved anything related to flying, which is what led her to show up for the first time. Truthfully, she didn’t care who won or lost. Broom racing was much simpler, in her opinion.
“You’ve got some really good flying skills. And a great broom. If you don’t mind me asking, where’d you get it?” She fidgeted with her hair for a moment then lowered her hands again and gestured toward herself with an exaggerated expression spread on her face. “If my whole team had some of those, we would be practically unstoppable.”
@Oonagh Btown
Brooms and Bruises
Oonagh groaned as she woke up, gaining consciousness after swimming through a sea of sluggish darkness for far too long. She propped herself up into a sitting position, which she was immediately punished for by jabs of pain that cursed through her whole upper body, causing her to let out a string of cusses. Her hair swooped around her, like a giant bird nest of curls that shan't be tamed.
She was still wearing her quidditch uniform, minus the protective gear that someone must have taken off her for comfort while her mind had been swallowed by pain and darkness. Even now the pain was grand, but at least she had regained consciousness, for better or for worse. Her rib cage seemed to be voting for the latter, the pain thrumming through her with every breath she took as the inhale in her lungs forced her rib cage to expand. She was sure that bludger must have shattered quite a few bones. Upon the impact she had not felt much pain, she felt it flare up but almost within the same second her brain had shut off and she vaguely remembered slipping off her broom, unable to hold on as darkness consumed her. It had been an odd feeling for sure, one she had never before experienced to such extents. And it filled her with anger for whoever had inflicted this upon her, but also a fraction of undeniable respect for the brute strength required to knock her out with such little effort.
She had been in many fights before and while she had been concussed and battered from them, she hadn't actually passed out like she had today. What struck her as more of a catastrophe was, that some memories were coming back to her, blurry and mostly auditory. The splintering of wood beneath her fingers as the bludger brushed past her wrist before connecting full force with her torso. "Oh A will definitely kill ye, featherbained ---" she hissed with a insult attached, right as she was interrupted by a voice.
"Did we win then?" she asked, roughly, letting off some steam and if needed it would be the girl who would get the brunt of her frustration. Which was really her own fault for approaching Oonagh, so there was that. Her eyes narrowed at the questions that followed. "Thon old thin didnae e'en survive the force o ane bludger," she muttered as her fists clutched at the blanket she had been covered with. How frustrating, truly. She would have to get her revenge eventually. Maybe she should find a way to break his broom in revenge, maybe burn it beyond repair.
"A got it from someone," she shrugged, bad mistake, she hissed in pain, her breathing somewhat more labored than would be normal. Her words while not true, were technically no lie. She just left out the important detail that she had not actually asked to get it, she also left out that the person she had gotten it from did not even know they would no longer own it. But those were trivial details, weren't they?
mentions: @Jorah Moussa
| Oonagh Brown - Gryffindor - #A0522D | #5b7a56 - Semyon Reznikov - Durmstrang |
Sta: 10 | Eva: 10 | Str: 10 | Wis: 00 | Arc: 02 | Acc: 10(13) |
Sta: 10 | Eva: 10 | Str: 01 | Wis: 10 | Arc: 10 | Acc: 10 |
Brooms and Bruises
Ava grimaced at the question and weighed her head to either side slowly, trying to decide what the correct answer to that question was. The game hadn’t been close, with Ravenclaws in the late 300s while Gryffindor ended with a mere 50 points. Deciding to be truthful, Ava nodded after a long moment. “Not exactly. You sort of lost…by a lot…”
Ava pursed her lips trying to find something that would make the situation better. The younger Gryffindor was muttering angrily about the game in her thick accent, so Ava decided she was better off not stirring the pot. Ava recognized something in the lions eyes that she often saw in her own, an angry flame that could only end with vengeance. She hid her smirk as she waited for the girl to answer her question.
The answer, followed by a painful looking shrug, was vague at best. Ava wasn’t going to push it. Ava gently leaned against the bedside table, pushing her hair off her shoulder and casually scanning the room.
“It’s too bad you can’t do any spell casting in Quidditch, that would certainly make the game interesting. A few Incendios, some wind charms, now that would be something.” Her smile was deceptively casual, although the hidden meaning behind her words clearly was saying that Quidditch wasn’t already interesting. She was slightly biased to favor Broomracing, which was much more exciting in her opinion. And, though she didn’t say it outright, she thought Quidditch seemed too easy.
Throw in some spells and Quidditch would begin to compare to broomracing. “You did good,” she said, although in her mind part of her finished that statement with for a first year.
@Oonagh Brown (Btown)
Brooms and Bruises
Oonagh did not exactly take the news well, throwing herself back into the pillow that had been propped up against the headboard. Still the rough motion made her head feel like it was splitting apart. Which, well, to be fair, should have been expected after being hit by a bludger and being hit hard. Oonagh did not really mind that though, even if she winced at the pain. But said wince was more or less overshadowed by the pure annoyance and upset she felt at the fact that they had lost.
She could immediately picture Koko's spiteful laughter, which she had probably let out at the results of the game if the girl had watched the game. Oonagh let out a long sigh, grabbing at the blanket and balling her fists causing the cloth to crumple up and loose some of its soft appearance. She was truly upset now, as her head continued to thrum in pain. Her entire left side of her rib cage too was not happy with the way she had thrown herself back against the headboard, but in that moment the girl hardly cared. She wanted to smash something and her gaze drifted to the nightstand to her right, viewing what appeared to be a glass of water, which she quickly took and threw against the floor, "This sucks!" She huffed out angrily as the glass shattered across the floor, some of the water hitting the floor at such force that the droplets splashed in a big radius.
At the girl's next comment, Oogie's head snapped around. Her anger now being directed at the girl instead of the poor glass of water that had done nothing wrong but being in her reach when she was angry. "Whit are ye on aboot, ye dunderheid?! Na magic is the best part aboot the sport!" she exclaimed passionately. Why would anyone sully the game with the use of magic. "A dinna care aboot any of thir ####ing magic spells, thay suck more than losing does!" A bold statement coming from the Scottish girl, but one she absolutely stood behind. She hoped that magic would never play a part in the sport. The sport was the best part about this ####ing school. The other girl clearly had no idea what she was blabbing about. How frustrating. Even the pity compliment did nothing to return her good natured spirits now. The other girl had seemingly purchased an express ticket to fall out of Oonagh's good graces.
| Oonagh Brown - Gryffindor - #A0522D | #5b7a56 - Semyon Reznikov - Durmstrang |
Sta: 10 | Eva: 10 | Str: 10 | Wis: 00 | Arc: 02 | Acc: 10(13) |
Sta: 10 | Eva: 10 | Str: 01 | Wis: 10 | Arc: 10 | Acc: 10 |