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 Liberating (open)
Julia Song
Posted: Mar 26 2012, 12:06 AM


Member


Group: Inactive
Posts: 1
Member No.: 160
Joined: 29-February 12



It didn't matter where she was, the crisp scent of morning air on the quidditch pitch was the same everywhere. The desert settings of the southern Deseret, the pitch located deep within the forests of Roanoke, and even the field in the Siberia that her old team went for winter training had the exact same scent. In all probability it was the smell of the grass still wet from the morning dew (or, in Deseret's case, irrigation), and objectively it wasn't a pleasant smell.

Julia still loved it. She loved everything related to it, actually. The way she felt as she did her stretches and warm-ups, the way the sun was only coloring the sky enough for it to be a twilight, the way the bludgers shook ominously in their cases...

This was routine, once. Morning training was something that she never skimped on, at least until she got to this damned country. Her thoughts wandered into the territory where the end result usually was her breaking everything that's even remotely related to quidditch in her reach, and Julia quickly calmed herself down. She was here, after all, to feel more normal. And not at all angry or feeling sorry for herself.

She got on her Valkyrie, a 25-year old model that she used only for practices. Older models didn't have the speed that Julia was used to during official games, but this model was as sensitive as her top-of-the-line Twister 36 Classic. It was a good way to train elusiveness without relying on speed.

On the four sides of the pitch, Julia put down two boxes of quidditch sets each. The bludgers, being pretty predictable and not autonomous, weren't very good representatives of themselves in the game when there were no beaters to practice with. The only way to simulate two professional, extremely talented beaters (the pair on the Bulgarian National Team who almost broke her nose, for example) hellbent on knocking Julia off her broom was to... add more bludgers.

16, to be exact.

Flying towards the center, Julia took a deep breath, then waved with her wands to open the boxes and release the bludgers. As if on cue, all sixteen bludgers launched straight towards Julia at the same time with exactly the same speed. Rolling her eyes, she dodged all of them by dropping her altitude as they all collided with one another in midair where she used to be. The real practice would begin when the bludgers started to move in a more unpredictable pattern than straight 16 lines meeting in the center.

Now the bludgers were being more challenging. Outstripping her ancient Valkyrie, the bludgers swooshed by as Julia went through the basic evasion techniques. Basics were important; any athlete worth her salt knew that.

After doing the basic techniques for 30 minutes, Julia moved onto her own styles of movements. The one that she was dying to practice again was what she called the "Sonoran Dust Devil", and she began to fly in a very tight spiral pattern that became tighter and tighter. Predictably, the bludgers all began to fly in a spiral pattern behind her. As her spirals became tighter and tighter while her angular velocity increased, the bludgers ended up colliding with one another and scattering in all directions. 2 bludgers doing that was pretty good to watch, but 16 was always a treat.

"Yeah!" Julia exclaimed triumphantly as she turned around to look, only to see that there was someone near the pitch - too dark to see who or even what. But what she did see clearly was one of the bludgers, still carrying the force of the impact caused by her maneuver, flying straight towards whoever (or whatever) was standing there. Flying as fast as she could, Julia took out her wand and exclaimed "Reducto!". The spell, luckily, managed to hit the bludger and not, say, the ground near the stranger. As the bludger shattered, Julia landed in front of the stranger and exclaimed, "Holy crap! That was close, huh? Sorry about that."

... while not really appreciating the fact that she had just put someone in a grave danger.
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