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 Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 3:00 pm
Flying Lessons
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – This one moment was something that Cecilia had dreamed of ever since she learned of Mount Olympus--a refuge in the sky, home of all the Greek Gods. She knew nothing that could even compare to it. Being underwater was something completely else, Cecilia always felt the gravity, the weight of the water pressing on her body as she dived under... But flying, it was as if the atmosphere had no weight. And, she could only imagine... that the air would get thinner, thinner, and thinner as she flew up, higher and higher. Was it infinite up there? The thought caused her to shake her head--of course not... The "sky's the limit" was to be taken literally--up at high altitudes, it was oxygen depleted. Pushing higher and higher into the atmosphere would cause no good to her but... it was something worth longing for.
With wistful eyes, Cecilia stared up at the sky--letting the hum of the flying instructor's voice travel around her. This was the closest she's ever been to a broomstick... and in mere seconds, the wood would plant itself in her palm and she would elevate higher than she's ever before.
And things all started with one simple word, said the instructor. "Up." She spoke, her voice dry and tone raspy with longing.
Unlike many of the others, Cecilia's broom flew obediently to her fingers. The wood felt smooth against her skin--and there was a pulse. Hers' or the brooms'--it didn't much matter. Everything felt alive her. This is magic, she thought, grinning, clamping her loving grip firmer on the broom.
But in reality--this task was excessively frustrating for most. Completely self-absorbed, Cecilia hardly even noticed the panic and frustration of her classmates. These were all in the back of her ears; she barely registered them.
She stood with the broom in hand for what felt like several minutes, absolutely mesmerized. By now, the professor had allowed kids to mount their brooms--and Cecilia followed their example, feeling whimsical. Soon enough--the Professor went to help a select challenged few, leaving the rest of the class hovering feet above the ground.
And this is when Cecilia blinked. Coming out of her trance--and a large grin immediately flew to her face. This is flying, she felt as groundless as she imagined it being.
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 3:57 pm
Lysander had been looking forward to flying lessons, however, he had also been looking forward to every one of his other classes too, in typical Ravenclaw fashion. A new skill to add to his repertoire, a new hobby to collect, a new thing he was good at. And wouldn't it be a fine thing, he thought, flying above the quidditch pitch as seeker of the team. He could see it now, and it was indeed a fine, fine thing.
Swoosh. His broom called to him, arriving and settling at proper height the moment he wished to ride it. Settling into position and kicking off, the wind whipping through his hair- oh, he'd have to tie it back. Don't want it getting in his way- and goggles- those always seemed to look nice, dark, perhaps tinted blue, for his house. With bronze colored padding, or the strap, or perhaps both- and his hawk-eyed skill at spotting even the smallest insect on the pitch. Flying this way, and that, perhaps a loop for the crowd- ah yes. It would be fine.
But what, now, is this? Lysander blinked and looked around. Up, everyone was chanting. He looked down at the broom to his right. 'Alright,' he thought, 'time to get to work.' He stretched his right hand over the broom that lay at his feet. "Up." But the broom did not budge. He took in a breath, had he really thought it was going to be that easy? How many times had he tried something new, only to fail in the beginning. That is what happened when you were a beginner. When you know nothing, it is easy to fail, but because you are not expected to know what you do not, there is no foul.
"Up." He says again, voice still as smooth as it ever was. Still, the broom did not move. 'Is there some sort of trick to it, do you think? Perhaps actually wanting it to move, instead of expecting it to.' Lysander, having grown up in the magical world, was not unfamiliar with magical items, and knew that many seemed to poses a mind of their own. Figuring that the broom, like so many other magical items he knew of, "had feelings" he tried again, thinking of how it would feel were he to demand it something.
"Up." He said once more, speaking to the broom gently, as though it were a person, or like he would ask his wand if it was being uncooperative, which his mother told him they sometimes do. The broom responded this time, but it seemed a coy thing, only raising half way before dropping again. Lysander looked down at it with a raised brow, before repeating himself again. This time, however, it complied.
Lysander looked around at the class, some who were already up in the air, dancing about a few feet off the ground, as instructed. The professor, who had been heading in Lysander's direction before the broom obliged, stopped short and told him to get on and push off, like the others were doing, before he moved on to another student expressing difficulties.
He watched as the other students tossed their legs up and over the broom, straddling it like some uncivilized brute. He supposed, however, that that was how it was done, seeing everyone in such a state. The Quidditch players he had seen all looked a lot better seated atop their mounts, the less burly ones even managing to look elegant, refined, or confidant. Confidence... and profession brooms, Lysander was sure now. Even graceful students would appear gangly and pathetic on one of these. Perhaps with practice one would obtain a sense of belonging astride one of these brooms, but definitely not on their first run.
Lysander lowered the broom and tossed a leg over. He felt rather foolish, as though he were playing with one of those sticks with a stuffed horse's head attached. He frowned and looked ever forward, trying to ignore the laughing of the other students that, while he knew were shrieks of joy, seemed to be jeering at him for staying on the ground for so long.
He pushed off with his legs, expecting to be a few feet in the air by the end of his jump, but he only floated back down slowly. He could feel his cheeks begin to burn. Never. Looking around quickly, he noted a few other students failing their first attempts at getting in the air. Quicker still, his head stared forward ridged once more. Another jump, and he'd be in the air, surely... Or perhaps the third time was the charm?
His head darted around again. There were only a few students left on the ground, one who's broom still lay on the ground. Please, he begged the broom. He refused to be the last one grounded. Sucking up a good bit of air, he tried a fourth time to become airborne. He let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't very high in the air, perhaps only a few feet, but it was better than nothing, and Lysander was prepared to accept that.
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 6:41 pm
Cecilia barely had enough time to enjoy any of weightlessness before something knocked into the tip of her broom. "Eep!" she exclaimed, trying to maintain balance on her broom, but her plight was futile. Releasing the handle, Cecilia let herself drop the ground, crouching her knees and landing, surprisingly, on her feet. "Those dance classes may help after all," She mused quietly to herself. Her legs tingled all over, and as much as she tried to ignore it, it was a wee bit painful. Humans weren't meant to drop from such a height. Speaking of which... Her blue eyes wandered back toward the hair and she immediately saw who had hit her off. There was an out of control girl flinging around the grounds. "Professor!" Cecilia trotted over to the professor, pointing at the girl.
With a wave of her wand, the girl was brought back down on her broom. "Are you alright?" Cecilia inquired, noticing that the girl was crying. "Oh--it's alright now, Stephanie, you're okay now." Cecilia cooed, wrapping her arms quietly around the distraught girl. She was also a Hufflepuff.
It took a few seconds for Stephanie to calm back down enough to try out her broom again, but when she did, Cecilia was free to go back to her broom. "Ahhh..." She sighed, glancing up at the sky. Walking over towards the closest person to her, a Ravenclaw boy with an eyepatch, she began, "Excuse me, could you please retrieve my broom?" She indicated to the rider-less broom in the sky. What a glitchy thing, Cecilia thought, her eyes narrowing away because of the son. "I am afraid that it is not being very cooperative with me," she admitted to the boy, "And I do apologize for the troubles, I would not ask if I did not think it was important." She admitted earnestly. Normally, Cecilia would've just inquired about this to the professor, however, they seemed rather preoccupied with the many other students to worry about her at the moment.
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Posted: Wed Nov 16, 2011 5:36 pm
And accept that he had to do, for his broom refused to go any higher than the height it was currently at, which was only a few feet off the ground. His broomstick was probably level with the teacher's face. Such shame. Lysander looked up at the other students flying merrily about, and he was confused as to why he could not get his to cooperate. He couldn't even get it to move forward.
You know, it would be absolutely wonderful if you'd go. Forward, upward... Why is it you refuse to listen to me? Did he have a temperamental broom, or was he really this bad at flying? He had hoped to be at least a little better than this on his first trip into the sky. At least, he'd planned on having control.
Lysander looked down a bit when a girl came to a stop next to him, requesting something of him. He followed her gaze to the broom in the sky and had to squint. She had lost her broom somewhere up there, and with the sun shining in his eye he couldn't find it. Oh, wait. There it is. Right. "I'll be right back with it." He'd say, and fly up to the thing with ease. The moment his hand touched the smooth wood of the broom, it lost it's flight and rested calmly in his hand while he brought it back down to the girl. "Here you are, no problem."
Only there was a problem. His broom would not listen to him, and would not budge. Even after she had finished with her explanation, he was left in the same spot, not even a hair had moved. He frowned down at his broom, then looked down to her.
"No." He said, looking at her. "I don't think I shall." It wasn't as if he could get down and let her use his own broom to retrieve the one in the sky, even though that would have made a lot more sense, because he could not get down from his perch. Well, he could, he supposed, but he really did not wish to land face down on the grass below. He really did not have the hand of this broomstick flying thing at all. The only time he ever jumped down from high places on purpose was if he could land on his feet, and as uncoordinated as he was on this broom, he would have no such luck, and did not wish to risk breaking any limbs. Or looking stupid.
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Posted: Sun Jul 15, 2012 3:23 pm
Cecilia blinked. Simply, she was shocked. "A-ah." She started, a bit bewildered. She hadn't expected someone to be so rude! "I'm sorry I bothered you, then." That... was unexpected! Throughout her classes, Lysander always seemed like a nice boy--did he hate her for some reason? The thought made her sad--but mother always told her she couldn't be liked by everyone... I dislike it when mother's right! Cecilia thought to herself sadly, looking up at her broom once again. How am I going to get that broom down... She glanced towards the professor--Professor Drake was unfortunately preoccupied. F-from the looks of it, she was chasing... something? Cecilia watched, horrifed, as a boy smacked painfully loud into the castle wall. "Oh my!" She exclaimed, eyes wide. "U-um! Professor..." The Professor looked at her and Cecilia couldn't help but feel overwhelming pity for the woman. "Nevermind." She quickly said--the Professor had worse things to deal with!
As the Professor trotted over to the other boy, Cecilia pulled out her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" She flicked her wand and then stared up at the broom. It didn't look like it was moving. "Darn..." She muttered, swishing her wand wildly from side to side to make sure the spell wasn't actually working.
As soon as she did, however, she saw something else moving in the corner of her eye. "Oh!" She exclaimed, almost dropping her wand when she realized that she had bewitched Lysander's broom, not her own! And there it was--swishing!
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Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2012 7:52 pm
Lysander blinked once at the girl, confused for a moment. She hadn't bothered him, not really. "What? You didn't bother..." He trailed off as she turned away. He was just stuck right here, in the same place he'd been since his broom managed to lift him off the ground. He had figured it was quite obvious.
Turning back to his own problem, he tried to jerk the broom upwards, but it didn't do much but settle itself back. He frowned at it, pushing a stray curl behind his ear. If only the broom would just move, then he'd be having the time of his life. After all, flying was an amazing thing, and he would be excellent, eventually, at anything so fun. It wasn't as though he wouldn't try until he got it! But it seemed like he wasn't able to get much of anything.
"At least before I could try again. Now I'm just stuck." He muttered to himself, glaring down at the rounded handle of the broom as though it was the cause of his problems. Or maybe the tail? He turned and glared at the twigs and bristles of the broom. He would glare at every single part of the broom till it worked, if that's what it was going to take. "Why won't you just move?" He asked it, before it did just that.
"Oh! He exclaimed in surprise and the broom began swishing itself from side to side. He clenched his legs tighter around the handle so as to not fall off, and re-gripped the broom. Well, this didn't seem to be doing anything productive. At least it was moving..? With every swish, the movement of the broom got a bit stronger, and he was getting jerked about. "Would you just start listening to me, please!?" He shouted at it after a particularly violent swish, knuckles starting to turn white.
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