Practice makes perfect: Route One

[trace12]

A few days ago, Trace received the quidditch position of beater for his house during try outs. His goal was not set for that position, he had no intention of even apply for beater, but it didn't stop him. He finally had succeeded and was on a real quidditch team. House wise. Of course he was mighty happy. He was so happy that he finally came to the point where he had the guts to owl his parents of his success when they would have returned, and probably asked them for a broom too, a Nimbus 2001 was on his mind. He didn't want a super fast broom because it would have only disturbed his route. As he had thought about before, a route had to be planned at the begining of a match to analyze the field and find possible openings. These routes were created by his Grandmother during her quidditch time as a professional and a minor. She called them the Badger's Route. Pretty self-explanatory since she was in the Hufflepuff House. The Badger's Route consists of a swift swim throughout the field at a certain amount of speed and acceleration that could follow his maneuvers. These routes were supposed to be for the Chaser position, which he had not obtained. Yet, during his success he also failed, but he didn't want to tell himself that. The envious person that seemed to always hide inside him would burst with anger and guilt.

Trace was taking his steps throughout the field. This was actually the first time he was able to catch a clear image of the field. Without the clouds and roaring thunder, and the ever so hazardous rain, he felt this warming feeling of content and happiness. The clear sky gave him hope and joy. The sun beamed it's ray towards him, as it began to ascend above him, slowly, while observing the sky. He was feeling okay today. No classes right now, so it was a perfect time to practice his beater route that he was coming up with at the time. A beater route...it should consist of more attack, rather than defensive dodge maneuvers...all attack now. If I'm right, I also have to get a good picture of the field and it's surroundings, my aim has to be exact, followed by my strength...which is not very good at my age. He thought. Finally, ascending his feet to take his step, charging toward the midpoint of the field as he hoped on the broom while struggling for control, and once again he flew off with the burst of speed. At the moment, he didn't have his bat with him, or any bludgers moving around the field. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to get the equipments or even where it was, so he decided to work only on his route for the start. Taking a few laps around the field again.

[elizabeth]

With a smirk, Elizabeth read the letter she had recieved from her captain saying she made Chaser. Never had a doubt about it. She thought to herself with a smirk. She was slightly happier than she let on. When she told people she would act as if it were nothing, as if it weren't the first time. but inside Elizabeth was jumping for joy. She couldn't wait to tell Jhon. He would be so proud of her. If only he could be at the school. But she didn't let that get her down. She grabbed her firebolt and flew out through her bedroom window. She let her hair out of its ponytail and let it fly all around her face, just enjoying the wind, and the cold night air.

As she continued her path to the Quiditch pitch, she saw somebody already there. She groaned, having wished to be alone with her joy. but then, maybe she would be able to brag to this person. Maybe it would be fun having another on the pitch with her. Elizabeth's smirk widened as she saw who it was. Trace Stone. Nice. Told yah you didn't stand a chance. She smirked and flew up to where he was and watched him speed around the pitch. She raised her hands to her face and pretended to be awfully interested in her nails, just waiting for him to notice he was no longer alone. Waiting for her chance to rub it in.

[trace12]

He had it all planned out, but it seemed like everything had shattered from the beginning. He didn't want to continue to think about the matter, but it always came up to him no matter how much he tried to get away from it. The rising anger seemed to keep on boiling after it's cool. His envious being wanted a chance to react, being the dormant made things worse. Everything inside would only build up for the worst. His mind was being clouded, he basically forgot everything he had to do at the moment, he was so blinded sided that he didn't even know what he was doing at the moment.

Trace had this stern face, a mix of anger and confusion, that signed that he was always thinking, or battling inside with his thoughts. Another part of time where he would completely change in a dramatic sense. During his flight he seemed to have lost the meanings of emotion, his posture was the same, and he only followed the wind as it pushed his weight and shifted his movement. He had to stop it, he had to control that success achieving maniac self. His high honor was only a blind fold that kept him from knowing the truth. He still didn't want to admit it, so he kept silent. The time was now to return to reality, he had been stuck in thoughts for a very long time, escaping the outside world. His route, the swim, or perhaps it could be changed into the Snake's Route, it all seemed to build up now, he was catching up. He soon began to notice someone else here in the field, not knowing how long this person has been here, but guessing while he at least made two to three laps. It's her again...what does she want...didn't she already get - arrghh.....! Trace ascended a little bit more to come to equal length. He glared at her for a minute, then he relaxed his face before speaking, he hid away the jealous temptation of an assault. "Hadn't you had enough of pride. One can only take in it's limitations." said Trace, trailed by a whisper of mind, although I possess no limitations....