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Cleo James, Crotalus
Your powers of observation astound me
Sun Apr 2, 2017 02:02

Cleo had struggled through her first days at Sonora, feeling incredibly homesick but lessons were providing a somewhat enjoyable distraction. She had lived her life on the fringe of magic - aware of it, and its capabilities, but having only a limited access to it. She and her dad lived in a small Muggle town, as he was keen to keep one foot grounded in the world he’d grown up in. Behind closed doors, they used magic - simple things, like locking up shop or completing household chores. Nothing flash, nothing attention grabbing, and Cleo most certainly had not been permitted to try anything of it herself. It was exciting to finally have her own wand, and to be able to explore this part of herself that she had always known existed but never been able to show before. Flying was a particularly fun aspect of that. As a child, she’d learnt to ride a bike and that had been all well and good, it was fun and it was useful for things like getting to the allotment on Sundays, but she knew that there was the option to fly - that she had that power, that the technology existed in her world, and sometimes when she was hot and sweaty from pedalling up a particularly challenging hill, she couldn’t help but wish she’d been able to glide smoothly up on a broomstick instead. Sometimes she had dreams where she’d be pedalling and her bike would take off…

She stood waiting with the other first years, wearing her green school robes. Her brilliantly blonde hair was only just long enough to tie back, and made a small, stubby ponytail when she did so. She had done this, along with removing her small gold hoop earrings, before this class on the grounds that it seemed roughly equivalent to P.E. and those were the rules. She also had tied it back the previous period for Potions because that was a bit like science. In elementary school, science experiments had mostly been things like ‘what floats?’ or ‘make a model volcano!’ which had not required health and safety procedures, but she knew that as one progressed into more dangerous territory, tying one’s hair back and wearing goggles were mandatory. Sonora didn’t seem to be overly concerned with potential threats to their eyesight (perhaps they could just magic it better if they got potions exploding in their faces, although she really still thought that would hurt quite a lot and would rather not have the experience) but keeping her hair tied back had made her feel a little safer whilst peering into a bubbling cauldron of mysterious ook. Cleo wasn’t generally a timid or overly cautious person. She could be a little unthinking and impulsive at times, which was why she liked a few simple rules to help keep her from doing something stupid.

She listened carefully to the directions from their Quidditch Coach. Get a broom. Be confident. Fly. Ok… She could handle that. She went to pick a broom, trying not to elbow others out of the way but also not be elbowed herself (she probably leant slightly more towards the former fault though, if she had to be categorised) and came away with something that looked like it wasn’t about to fall apart.

“Up!” she told it. Her voice was enthusiastic and eager, as she was very keen to fly, but apparently this wasn’t quite the same as ‘authoritative’ because the broom merely twitched.

“Up!” she told it, with a hint more frustration. Whilst her dad did his best not to spoil her, and believed that a level head was a very important feature in a person, the fact remained that Cleo was an only child of a single parent. The world fairly naturally revolved around her, with limited competition for her getting exactly what she wanted most of the time. This new combination of feelings seemed closer to the mark, as the broom jumped into her hand. Excited, she swung a leg over it and… then what? She pushed gently with her toes, not wanting to shoot off like a rocket, but that didn’t really give her enough height for her toes to clear the ground, and she did a couple of awkward bunny hops along near ground level before managing to give enough of a kick to be actually up in the air, whereupon she was directly knocked into by someone flying sideways. She lost her balance, tumbling onto the ground. She wasn’t anywhere near high enough to be badly hurt, but it was her elbow that hit the ground first and it smarted.

Student flier, still learning, the other girl threw at her. Although she sounded vaguely sorry, it didn’t escape Cleo’s notice that she hadn’t actually said she was. Growing up, Cleo had had a rather short temper. It was a bad habit, which her dad had patiently corrected, but it had never really gone away, it just tended to lie dormant. Angry to Cleo meant fire - a lot of her accidental magic as a child had revolved around setting things alight when she was cross or upset - and for this reason she pictured the emotion like a dragon. It wasn’t gone, but most of the time it was sleeping. Now though, the dragon raised its head. Bumps happened, she could rationally see that, and had that been all, and had the girl apologised properly, she probably could have got the dragon to put its head back down and go back to sleep, but the fact that this girl didn’t actually seem to care that she’d just knocked Cleo over made her not want to. Why should she control her feelings for someone who didn’t care that they’d just pushed her over? Pain was also a great catalyst for temper. Although it would fade very quickly, at that moment her elbow still hurt. She rubbed it, glaring at the other girl.

“We all are,” she said tartly, standing up and brushing her robes down, “That’s why we’re in a flying class.”

  • This broomstick is not a skateboardJennifer White, Tue Mar 28 15:14
    The first flying class was something to which Jen had been looking forward, but also had been dreading in equal measures. Despite growing up with her Mom, who was a witch, Jen had never shown any... more
    • Your powers of observation astound me — Cleo James, Crotalus, Sun Apr 2 02:02
      • Sarcasm is lost on meJen, Thu Apr 6 05:04
        It was unfortunate that the other girl had fallen off her broomstick, but she didn't have to be such a sour grape about it. It wasn't as if Jen had been zipping around at high speeds with the sole... more
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