Post by ROUX L'AMOUR on Jun 18, 2011 13:10:26 GMT
Roux was pleased as punch. He had, for the second year running, managed to secure himself a spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team as one of their Beaters. With his trusty Firebolt under his arm - he really needed to buy a better broom - he sauntered out on to the Quiddith pitch, an eager spring in his step. He loved flying. It was such an invigorating feeling, being able to soar through the air as high as you dared, faster than the wind. It was the ultimate freedom. At least, it was for Roux.
Grinning up at the early afternoon sun, Roux paused to glance around the stands. They seemed empty, which was what he had been hoping for. He wasn't really looking for an audience today, since his intentions were to get some much needed flying practice in. He wasn't keen on the idea of people watching him making any mistakes, but then, he supposed he couldn't exactly ban other students from entering the pitch while he was there.
With a deep breath, he mounted his broom and kicked off the ground, slowly making his way around the front of the stands in a great circle, his shoes only a few feet up off the grass as he adjusted to the sensation. It was different back in France. They had had a different stadium, and different practice places, and he needed to familiarize himself with this one all over again, in order to be sure he would perform at his best for their first match.
Slowly moving higher, he picked up the pace a little, gradually building speed and height until he was level with the topmost seats in the stands, whizzing past them at breakneck speeds. There was a delighted smile on his face as he blasted his way through the air, loving every minute. Finally deciding he was ready to break his circling, he pulled to the left, hurtling down toward the ground with the effort, before pulling himself out of the fall, aiming straight for the sky. He shot past the stands, and kept on going, higher, and higher... he wondered what would happen if he never stopped... if he just kept on going. His golden eyes shone with fierce desire as they locked onto the horizon, body flat out across his broom.
Grinning up at the early afternoon sun, Roux paused to glance around the stands. They seemed empty, which was what he had been hoping for. He wasn't really looking for an audience today, since his intentions were to get some much needed flying practice in. He wasn't keen on the idea of people watching him making any mistakes, but then, he supposed he couldn't exactly ban other students from entering the pitch while he was there.
With a deep breath, he mounted his broom and kicked off the ground, slowly making his way around the front of the stands in a great circle, his shoes only a few feet up off the grass as he adjusted to the sensation. It was different back in France. They had had a different stadium, and different practice places, and he needed to familiarize himself with this one all over again, in order to be sure he would perform at his best for their first match.
Slowly moving higher, he picked up the pace a little, gradually building speed and height until he was level with the topmost seats in the stands, whizzing past them at breakneck speeds. There was a delighted smile on his face as he blasted his way through the air, loving every minute. Finally deciding he was ready to break his circling, he pulled to the left, hurtling down toward the ground with the effort, before pulling himself out of the fall, aiming straight for the sky. He shot past the stands, and kept on going, higher, and higher... he wondered what would happen if he never stopped... if he just kept on going. His golden eyes shone with fierce desire as they locked onto the horizon, body flat out across his broom.
