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Post by tiffany on Sept 11, 2007 23:22:48 GMT -5
Tiffany spencer was laying in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, her arms stretched behind her and arms cradling her head, while her legs were straight and crossed. Olive green eyes were hid behind cream lids and plush lips curled into a faint smile. The warm sun was luxorious, seeping into her pores and heating the very marrow in her bones. It had begun to get chilly at Hogwarts and even with the sun out and the sky a brilliant blue, she was wearing a sweater. Laying there, doing absolutely nothing and below the usual breeze line, Tiffany was getting a little too warm. But she knew the moment as soon as she sat up or got on her broom, the wind would be battling the warm cotton of her sweater to bite at her skin. And yet, even with this knowledge and the warm sun soaking into her, she couldn't help but feel bored and the need to move. Forget moving, she needed to fly.
With a loud sigh, she unfolded her arms from behind her head and propped herself up on her elbows, looking around. No one in sight. Great. Slightly annoyed, she sat up straight and began to fix her obnoxiously long hair. First putting it up in a simple pony-tail, and then wrapping it around the rubberband twice, and adding another rubberband to hol that in place, and then loop it up three times, ending with a slightly funky style, but her long hair only inching past her shoulders. Usually the beach blonde mixed with light brown fell all the way to her butt, to mid-thigh when completely down. A moment of sitting and looking about herself thoughtlessly, simply taking in the grounds and the emptiness she saw. But hell, for all she knew there were several students poking around, either charmed to be non-visible, or simply not in her scanning eye-sight. A brisk breeze brought her from observation and into action.
A soft grunt and she rose to her small, bare feet, trotting over to where she had left her broom, shoes, and cloak. She flung the warm, slytherian coloured robe about her, sliding fuzzy, slothed arms into the wide sleaves, and then tying the throat closed and buttoning the middle. Without a word her broom rose to her outstretched hand in one swift motion she kicked off from the ground and mounted. Her shoes melted into the complexion of the grass as she began to fly lazilly in circles. Her added cloak kept her warm from the chill wind of her movement through the air, although her face was progressively growing colder. By the end of this boring fly, her nose and cheeks would surely be bright pink, possibly even red! Gross ... Tiffany began to do figure eights in the air, first simply keeping her pattern parallel to the ground, and then changing course so she was doing figure eights vertical, curving nearly straight up and down. Slowly she pressed on the speed and made her circles a little bigger. Plummeting toward the earth on a slight curve only to jerk upward to let her bare tose skim the grass, and then straigh up once more. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins and pretty soon a large grin tattoed her face.
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Post by brett on Sept 15, 2007 13:12:54 GMT -5
It had been far too long since Reg last visited the pitch. Last time had been the Slytherin teams first effort at a practice though because of two no shows and one still open spot things didn't get as far as he had hoped. Regulus couldn't screw this up, he was captain now and so far everyone else on the team was older than him any loss would be all to easy to blame on him. The first match was most likely against Gryffindor, if they could take out their arch rivals in the first game the team would be energized, not to mention it would give them bragging rights.
Reg shook the thoughts as he reached the front doors of the castle and mounted his broom. There would be plenty of time to worry about the season later right now it was all about the wind flowing through his dark hair, and leaving his worries on the ground. It felt good to be back in the air. It felt better than good, it felt comfortable, like coming home after a long trip. Reg had been flying almost since he could walk and always preferred it to the latter.
As Reg approached the pitch he could see a figure spiraling gracefully through the air. Even as he got closer it was hard to make out who the figure was because of the pattern of movement. Judging from the hair it was a girl, and judging from the robes she was in his house. She plummeted out of sight, so Reg increased his elevation to see the girl pull up and back into the sky. She certainly seemed to have good broom control. Regulus sped towards the pitch so he was close enough to make out the face of his fellow flyer: Tiffany Spencer. "hey there," Reg grinned.
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