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Jesse Keller
Okay I like games
Fri Nov 30, 2018 15:34
82.38.4.236

Jesse had never expected to make the Draco Quidditch team. This was mostly because he never expected to get anything out of life, really, but that especially applied to sports. In his experience, there weren’t any sports Jesse was particularly good at. Before attending RMI, in any organized physical activity he usually ended up playing keeper or goalie or whatever placed him least in the main action of the game. He wasn’t very good at judging what other players might be thinking, or what they might do next, but if a projectile was traveling towards him he could just about curb his basic instinct to get out of its way and place his broad-shouldered self in its way, instead. That didn’t make him good at the sport, but it made it harder for people to tell how bad he was at sports in general. It wasn’t that he was unco-ordinated, either; he’d tried unicycle at camp once, and he’d been really good at that. He could juggle, too, which he’d taught himself aged around eight or nine years old, to complement his range of Muggle magical tricks that he’d mostly given up on because nobody had ever wanted to watch his demonstrations or take part in his card tricks (that didn’t matter because he could do real magic now, not that anyone was interested in seeing that, either, but sometimes his professors had to see him do something to give him a grade, so that counted). The second year could run okay, not very fast or for very long, but no worse than average. His ineptitude at sports was therefore, almost certainly, due to the involvement of other people. Or, more accurately, Jesse’s inability to tap into that hive mentality that he believed made sports teams successful. He understood plenty about many subjects, but other people had confused him for as long as he could remember.

However, when he had arrived at Rocky Mountain International as a first year, both Jesse and his roommate, Keith, had signed up to play Keeper. Despite his this being his usual safety position, Jesse did not believe in his aptitude to compete directly with someone who could easily be much more proficient, nor did he want to immediately create reason for animosity between himself and the person with whom he might be living for the next seven years of his life. Therefore he had signed up for the Beater position, and in tryouts had managed to whack the Bludger well enough to get that spot. So suddenly Jesse was not only part of the Draco team - again, against his expectations - but also part of a Beating team with the Draco Captain, no less, comprising its other half. Only there had been some confusion just recently about whether or not Bryn was actually going to keep playing on the team, or captaining the team, or both, or neither, because he had some medical condition that affected his hearing, and that was a thing he couldn’t do any more. That was a real shame for the older student. Sometimes Jesse thought it might be nice not to be able to hear, to block out sounds of chatter when he was trying to concentrate (although his Mom said he had exceptional skill at selective hearing when he was reading and she was asking him to do some chore or other), or to have his thoughts to himself when he was in the Finer Diner at mealtimes, and not need to be in an echo-y room with shrieks and laughter and shoes scuffing and coughing and sneezing and chairs squealing against the floor and forks scraping against plates. Sometimes it might be nice to shut all that out. But then he would not be able to hear conversation at all, or the professors giving their class lectures, or his dog Bruno at home barking in the garden to be played with, or that phenomenal swish of turning a page in a book. He would miss all those things, he supposed, and losing a sense you had grown up depending on must make life harder.

Regardless, Jesse had a place on the team, and he was determined not to let the training he had received from Bryn go to waste, so he had decided to take himself out to the pitch for some extra practicing. He had heard the older players - and even some of the younger players, too - who were serious about Quidditch practiced more often than the arranged team meetings, so Jesse could maybe try doing that, too. His dark brown, almost black, really, hair was growing out a little from its midterm cut, beginning to kick out a little from his head in patches where it had grown long enough to allow its natural wave to be identifiable. Jesse only remembered to comb it some days, and today was not one of those days, so it didn’t look its neatest contrasted against his pale skin, but the Draco neither knew nor cared. Similarly his too-big blue hooded sweatshirt had ink stains on his right cuff that caused him no concern, and the pre-owned, ripped from wear and not because it was a fashion statement, light denim jeans had been pulled on that morning without a thought. He did consider that maybe looser pants might be better for Quidditch, but he did not have that idea until he was almost down at the pitch, worn sneakers barely sinking at all into the relatively dry ground.

Jesse rummaged in the shed for a decent broomstick. Some of the school supplies were ancient and unreliable, but some were new and okay quality, so Jesse found one that belonged to the second category. He stepped out of the supply shed, considering that he would warm up and decided whether he chosen attire was completely impractical for Beating after all, and so he would need to abandon this venture for today and remember to wear something that enabled more movement next time, or if he could fly well enough in jeans that were not new by any definition and so had a considerable degree of flexibility in the fabric to begin with, and looked up as one of his classmates approached, waving and smiling. Jesse only knew her name was Embers because the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had the same name, and liked to bestow more physical affection on this particular first year girl than on any other student, but nothing else against the girl besides her being in first year and in a House other than Draco. He did not know whether she was smiling and waving because she was just that sort of a friendly person or if she thought he was somebody else (which seemed unlikely considering the short distance they were from each other at the time of her executing those actions, yet she did not know Jesse well enough to bestow that sort of greeting upon him particularly; he was forced to conclude his earliest assumption was the most plausible).

“Hello,” Jesse responded in kind. “I was also going to fly some laps. Too,” he added the superfluous qualifier for reasons unknown to him or anyone else, as he had already included ‘also’ to imply the relatedness of their aims. “Then maybe try Beating practice, but I hadn’t decided yet.” Because of his jeans, but he did not need to tell her that, unless she asked.

  • Let's make up a game! - Sadie Embers, Fri Nov 30 12:19
    Whoever pulled that prank in the Finer Diner was a legend. Memories were gone, and people were freaking out. Sadie spent her time trying out different foods, since it felt like the first time she’d... more
    • Okay I like games - Jesse Keller, Fri Nov 30 15:34
      • What should our first rule be? - Sadie, Mon Dec 10 15:31
        “Okay,” Sadie nodded at the boy’s perfectly acceptable answer. Being on the Pitch to do Quidditch stuff was a very predictable thing to do, though, and she realized she’d fallen into that same trap.... more
        • No sore losers - Jesse, Sun Dec 16 15:31
          The girl said ‘Okay’ which Jesse understood as an acknowledgment in this instance, rather than a quantifier or descriptor. In another context, for example, it was plausible for someone to say ‘Okay’... more
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