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Gabriel Errant
Never Getting Out of Bed Again
Sat Sep 25, 2010 13:42

There wasn't a force on earth that could move him from his current position. There was no magic in the world, no spell powerful enough to tear him away. No offer tempting enough to drag him from the soft silk sheets, his head sinking into the fluffy crevices of his pillow, and the unconscious knowledge that he had all day to sleep.

It was Saturday. Glorious Saturday. A day of rest. A day where the mindless chore of going to class, walking out of class, going to another class, taking a break to write essay, handing said essay in, going to another class... that wasn't happening today. The sophomore could rest. Relax. Sleep. Smiling to himself, Gabriel snuggled up even more to his pillow. Nothing could disturb his serenity now.


Shooting out of bed, brown eyes wide and startled, Gabriel looked frantically around his dorm room until he spotted the object of his new found hate. Glancing at Vincent, unable to tell if he was disturbed or not, Gabriel rushed to the insipid clock he had charmed and turned it off. Sighing in relief that the sound had died down, he turned around and headed back for bed before he came to the sudden realization that there was a specific reason why the alarm clock had gone off.

"Noooo..." He whined as he bent down on the floor, clutching at the bed sheets in utter despair. "Stupid quidditch try outs." He growled in frustration. "It's Saturday! I wanna sleep." He began patting his sheets down, the motions becoming more and more like strokes. The bed felt so good, a few more minutes couldn't hurt could it? Tentatively, he climbed back into bed, his body sighing at the soft contact. 'Ah, yeah. This is the life. Just five more minutes... or ten... maybe twenty...'


"All right! All right!" He leaped out of bed again, slamming his fist on the stupid clock. How very clever of himself to anticipate his own sluggish behavior preventing him from going to the try outs on a Saturday morning. He stretched, his back muscles flexing, and gave a loud yawn. "Quidditch here I come." He muttered to himself.


Still rubbing some sleep from his eyes, Gabriel looked around with a blurry vision at the rest of the team's hopefuls. He was happy to see that most people he recognized. When it came his turn to introduce himself he stifled a yawn and smiled sleepily at them all. "Gabriel Errant. Chaser. Was a reserve last year. Before that I was on my school team." He paused, unable to hold back a yawn. "Sorry, I also head the Broom Racing Club."

The introductions continued but Gabriel's head was spinning. This feeling was not at all foreign and he waited patiently for the dizzy spell to pass. His head clear, he relaxed and breathed in the delicious cold air. He was more or less awake. The world wasn't tilting and he was able to stand straight.

The introductions finished, Gabriel headed with the other Chaser hopefuls to the south side of the pitch. Predictably, Mia went first. Gabriel watched her appreciatively; she may be a difficult woman, mean spirited, and quite an awful person to be around - but what did any of that matter compared to the physical beauty she possessed? She was also a kick-ass quidditch player which was thrilling to see. Gabriel sat down, stretching his legs out in front of him, leaned back on his elbows, and inclined his head, watching Mia finish her last couple of scores. Perfect, as usual.

Next up was hot shot Hector, but Gabriel felt more inclined to gaze at Mia some more, his train of thought traveling down the road of, 'Why haven't I come on to her yet?' and arriving at destination, 'Because she's a murderous psychopath, that's why.' and continuing on to the rest stop, ' So WHY haven't I come on to her yet?' It was a vicious cycle.

He looked away just in time to see Hector get in his fourth goal, descend, and wrap an arm around Mia's waist. Gabriel raised a brow but didn't let it bother him. A challenge... he pushed the plot his mind immediately began hatching to the back of his brain and stood up slowly, the last vestiges of his sluggishness finally gone. It was time to play.


Swinging his legs over his broom, Gabriel took a moment to breathe, and then closed his eyes, gathering his strength. Last year he hadn't made it on the team. He had gotten better though. He had practiced, he had trained. Now was the time to prove it. His body tensed, his feet firmly planted on the ground then -


He kicked off, soaring through the air, the leather bound quaffle tucked securely in his arm, and the goal posts were suddenly there to meet him. He pulled to a sharp stop, though his broom continued to sway because of the wind, and swallowed. Though usually the rest of the world melted away for him, this time he was very much aware of Mia and Hector watching, as well as other Chaser hopefuls. 'I've got to be good.' He hugged the quaffle tighter to himself and leaned forward on the broom. 'Forget about them, Gabriel. Just go!'


He was off. Heading towards the goal post. What was that? Out of the corner of his eye -

"Hah!" He laughed as he did a brief handstand on his broom, allowing the bludger to hit nothing but air as it whizzed between himself and wood. He settled back down on his broom and continued towards the charmed keeper. He felt his confidence already coming back after passing the first test of his skill.

The keeper was favoring its right side, Gabriel's left. He headed in that direction... raising his arm... balancing the ball in the palm of his hand... leaned forward on his broom... the keeper drifted a little more to its right...

"Sucker!" He gave a preemptive cheer before dropping suddenly and giving a forceful lunge, the quaffle shooting directly under the keeper's broom and into the goal. Confidence back and ego overblown, Gabriel looped easily around the goal post and caught the quaffle. 'One down, three more goals to go.' He made a sharp turn, another bludger whizzing past his ear, and headed back staying low so he was looking up at the keeper. 'Not yet... not yet...' He was three feet away. Two feet.

"Nngh!" Rolling sideways, his broom accompanying him, he pulled his arm back, rose up level with the middle goal hoop, turned his body slightly to partially block the keeper and tossed the quaffle in. "Yes!" Pumping his fist he sped down to grab the quaffle and prepared for the third shot.

He paused in mid air, turning his head away to sneeze. "Ah... Ah... Atchoo!" He shook his head to clear it, and ducked just in time for a bludger to skim his curls waving around wildly in the wind. He sped again towards the hoops, now from above the keeper. His eyes narrowed in concentration preparing to get in a drop shot. He stretched his arm out slightly, anticipating his third goal.


Pain. Blinding hot flashes of pain. Gabriel bit his lip, a bead of blood emerging from the bit of skin clenched tightly between his teeth. The howl of pain he had wanted to let out was quenched as the offending bludger whizzed away. Below him the quaffle was falling. He released his lip, gritted his teeth, ignored his throbbing arm, tilted his broom handle down, and sped downwards, scooping up the quaffle in his good arm before it reached the ground and shot back up into the sky.


His right arm rendered useless, he was forced to hug the broom between his chest and knees as he again tried for a drop shot. 'Come on, come on.' There didn't seem be a bludger nearby, thank heaven for small mercies. He winced as a sudden turn of his broom caused another pang in his already throbbing arm. Doing his best to ignore it, he aimed for the middle goal hoop. He threw his whole body into the throw, but at the last second put a spin on the ball so that it went slightly to the left.

Gabriel sighed in relief as again he had gotten in a goal. He let the quaffle fall to the ground, cradling his arm against his chest, and pulling out his wand from his back pocket in a rather clumsy fashion. Pointing it at his arm he hissed, "Nullus doloris."A few tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes, and he gave a loud groan that was greedily swallowed by the wind. The pain ebbed away; his arm was completely numb.

There was only one more shot left. Maybe it was because he was crazy, but as he sped back down to the ground to gather up the red leather bound ball, his mouth stretched into a genuine smile. It was odd, but the pain made it more fun. Thrill and danger went hand and hand with him. Where there was pain, at least in quidditch, there was pleasure. He grabbed the quaffle, rose from his dive, and streaked through the air, ready for his fourth and final goal. The keeper was ready... Gabriel tensed on his broom... his right arm flopping helplessly... his left arm winding back...

"UNG!" He misjudged the force of his throw. Sliding off his broom, he barely had time to register the keeper missing his well aimed quaffle by inches before both Gabriel and his quaffle were falling on opposite sides of the goal post. Giving a desperate whistle, he was pleased to see his faithful elm wood broom speed toward him, close enough for his left arm to grab. He hung there suspended in mid air, the wind knocked out of him, before heaving himself on to the wood. 'I hope actual games are as exciting as this.' He was unsure how he would categorize his performance. He did get all four goals in (he grinned proudly at himself) but his last two goals caused him an injury. He headed down to the pitch, checking on his arm, and landed as gracefully as he could. Someone else went up at the goal posts, and though Gabriel knew the wisest thing would be to go to the Health Center, he found himself instead collapsing on the ground and continuing to watch the try outs. It was bad enough he had to get out of bed, they weren't going to move him from the comfortableness of the sacred ground.

  • After a year of waiting in the sidelines for some good old fashioned Quidditch, Hector was more than ready to show everyone at SUM what he was capable off. His senior year at RMI had been... more
    • Never Getting Out of Bed Again — Gabriel Errant, Sat Sep 25 13:42
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