Post by Morgan Austin on Nov 7, 2011 19:57:19 GMT -5
Flying upside down in circles around the pitch, Morgan grips onto his broom for dear life. He's sure there will be lines gauged into the thighs of his legs at the intensity he's squeezing them to make sure he doesn't go tumbling toward the ground. Laughter is pouring out of him as he lets his arms dangle under his head, with his new broom darting him around the pitch like a mobile swing.
The middlest of the Austin siblings takes his sport very seriously.
The howling of laughter only comes to a close when Morgan grips the neck of the broom and swings himself back on top of it - at that point it lessens to more of a sinister chuckle than full-blown giggles, and the fourteen year old does a few dips through the hoops of the north end of the field to further instigate his fun.
It's not hard to believe him when he says he came out of the womb flying; his mother has a hard enough time trying to keep him down and out of the air at home. Similarly, his sister has finally taken the jump and decided to join him in his feats; she's not here at the moment, but she will be, and he's already told her he's not going to take it easy on her in tournaments. He may, though - just a little. Only because she's a girl. And maybe because she's his sister...
Coming to an abrupt halt in the air, Morgan sifts his dirtyblond hair between his fingers. It's grown darker over the years, as he was blond as a button in his first, but it's nothing he particularly cares about. Being that he spends most of his time rolling in the dirt anyway, it's not like it looks much different. Cracking a toothy grin, the teenager circles his way down to the pitch and consults the Quidditch practise trunk sitting in the centre of the field. Kicking it open, the Bludgers struggle in their restraints and it only makes the young Beater grin as he tosses his bat up and down in his hand.
"Excited today, huh?" he says to them. Maybe they have personality - you never know, right? He glances at a few dummies made of magic, sticks, and cloth, and shoots them up into the air with a careful attempt at Wingardium Leviosa. Mounting his broom, he strips the Bludgers of their wraps and watches them fly angrily into the air; it's only a matter of time before the chase begins, and Morgan shoots off at speeds that would knock a poor flyer straight off their broomstick.
He catches up to one quickly enough, narrowly avoiding the other as it makes to slam into him. A corkscrew there, a loop-the-loop here; he makes a point to beat the ever-living crap right back out of them as he darts around the empty field like a crazed bird in a glass cage. He slams the bludgers into the dummies until they are all knocked to the ground individually, and comes to a spinning stop centerfield as both bludgers come zooming at him instead.
"Oh no, what ever will I - whoop!" He drops in altitude and both bludgers go flying over his head. Grinning again, he watches them circleback before spinning out of their way with another woop, laughing through his game of cat and mouse. It's catching them later that's going to be the real issue...
The middlest of the Austin siblings takes his sport very seriously.
The howling of laughter only comes to a close when Morgan grips the neck of the broom and swings himself back on top of it - at that point it lessens to more of a sinister chuckle than full-blown giggles, and the fourteen year old does a few dips through the hoops of the north end of the field to further instigate his fun.
It's not hard to believe him when he says he came out of the womb flying; his mother has a hard enough time trying to keep him down and out of the air at home. Similarly, his sister has finally taken the jump and decided to join him in his feats; she's not here at the moment, but she will be, and he's already told her he's not going to take it easy on her in tournaments. He may, though - just a little. Only because she's a girl. And maybe because she's his sister...
Coming to an abrupt halt in the air, Morgan sifts his dirtyblond hair between his fingers. It's grown darker over the years, as he was blond as a button in his first, but it's nothing he particularly cares about. Being that he spends most of his time rolling in the dirt anyway, it's not like it looks much different. Cracking a toothy grin, the teenager circles his way down to the pitch and consults the Quidditch practise trunk sitting in the centre of the field. Kicking it open, the Bludgers struggle in their restraints and it only makes the young Beater grin as he tosses his bat up and down in his hand.
"Excited today, huh?" he says to them. Maybe they have personality - you never know, right? He glances at a few dummies made of magic, sticks, and cloth, and shoots them up into the air with a careful attempt at Wingardium Leviosa. Mounting his broom, he strips the Bludgers of their wraps and watches them fly angrily into the air; it's only a matter of time before the chase begins, and Morgan shoots off at speeds that would knock a poor flyer straight off their broomstick.
He catches up to one quickly enough, narrowly avoiding the other as it makes to slam into him. A corkscrew there, a loop-the-loop here; he makes a point to beat the ever-living crap right back out of them as he darts around the empty field like a crazed bird in a glass cage. He slams the bludgers into the dummies until they are all knocked to the ground individually, and comes to a spinning stop centerfield as both bludgers come zooming at him instead.
"Oh no, what ever will I - whoop!" He drops in altitude and both bludgers go flying over his head. Grinning again, he watches them circleback before spinning out of their way with another woop, laughing through his game of cat and mouse. It's catching them later that's going to be the real issue...