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๐ฅ๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐๐ง
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๐ฅ๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐๐ง
channing nott
ravenclaw | 7:35pm | quidditch pitch
code by pasta
vxnilla
skin of your teeth !
in tears brb
erised
๐ฅ๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐๐ง
i'm in tears bc ur in tears
vxnilla
skin of your teeth !
caine feinauer.
location. quidditch pitch
mood. deciding whether or not it's worth a detention or two to hex the living daylights out of chan
outfit. school robes
interactions/mentions. channing, marco
tags.
erised
mood. deciding whether or not it's worth a detention or two to hex the living daylights out of chan
outfit. school robes
interactions/mentions. channing, marco
tags.
erised
You'd think that adjusting to an entirely different world would be a little easier the second time, but no. It seemed that Caine had just barely grasped onto the concept of Ilvermorny houses and what they meant before he was whisked off to Hogwartsโwhich, first of all, what kind of name was Hogwarts? which old British fart had the bright idea to name his school Hogwarts?โand their completely different four houses.
He'd been in Gryffindor for a while now. He liked the color scheme for sure, and the lion was pretty badass. But the first time he turned to the wizard next to him to ask what that meant, his answer was: "Oh, you know. It means you're brave, and daring. Maybe a little reckless and short-tempered."
"So none of the people sitting on the other tables are brave, then?"
"Well, no. It's likeโyou value bravery more than they do? Or it's more defining for you?"
Which left Caine admittedly still confused, but the description was pretty accurate for him (he was a little reckless and more than a little short-tempered), so he let it be. It wasn't really his business what those other houses meant, he supposed, as long as he understood what his did.
The classes passed by without event. In Transfiguration he was the first to successfully transfigure a feather into the bird it'd come from, which, you know. Was certainly an ego-booster. It always satisfying to prove that he wasn't just a stupid American exchange student, even if by most metrics he kind of was.
Lunchtime wasn't anything remarkable either. He'd started overcoming the New Kid Syndrome and had since found a group of students to regularly sit with at lunch, which he was grateful for because standing awkwardly for a place to sit was one of his least favorite things, ever. Rose Granger-Weasley was one of the people in his group, and apparently she was something of a big deal, but againโCaine was not only a Muggleborn (No-Maj-born where he came from) but also an American, so he wasn't 100% sure why. It had something to do with her parents, he knew that much, but she seemed embarrassed whenever anyone asked, so he refrained.
Afternoon classes were similarly mundane. He did set something on fire in Potions, but that was pretty standard for him. THe professor put it out with a vaguely disapproving but overall resigned look. Caine winced, but c'mon, Potions just wasn't his thing. Slughorn knew it, and all his classmates knew it.
Boring was almost worse in his book than disastrous, so by the time the evening rolled around, Caine was more than ready to finish his dinner quickly and go out to the Quidditch pitch. Marco had invited him to practice, and he'd be an idiot to turn down a chance to do more of what he genuinely loved. It was almost supernatural in its speed, how quickly he ran up to his dorm to grab his broom and sprinted outside. There were two figures flying, which, okay, he didn't expect, butโ
He stopped dead in his tracks. No fucking way.
To be fair, he probably should have asked if Marco was bringing anyone along, but he was too excited at the prospect of Qudiditch, can you blame him? And now he was paying the price for his Gryffindor-trademarked recklessness.
It seemed he wasn't the only one unhappy with the arrangement, because Channing Fucking Nott spun his broom around to yell at him to leave. Which Caine had kind of been planning on doing, but now he had to stay purely out of spite, as a big ol' Fuck You to Channing. Serves him right.
"Clearly, I am welcome," Caine sneered, considering your brother invited me, you dick." He slanted an accusing look at Marco. "He didn't tell me we'd have company, though."
He'd been in Gryffindor for a while now. He liked the color scheme for sure, and the lion was pretty badass. But the first time he turned to the wizard next to him to ask what that meant, his answer was: "Oh, you know. It means you're brave, and daring. Maybe a little reckless and short-tempered."
"So none of the people sitting on the other tables are brave, then?"
"Well, no. It's likeโyou value bravery more than they do? Or it's more defining for you?"
Which left Caine admittedly still confused, but the description was pretty accurate for him (he was a little reckless and more than a little short-tempered), so he let it be. It wasn't really his business what those other houses meant, he supposed, as long as he understood what his did.
The classes passed by without event. In Transfiguration he was the first to successfully transfigure a feather into the bird it'd come from, which, you know. Was certainly an ego-booster. It always satisfying to prove that he wasn't just a stupid American exchange student, even if by most metrics he kind of was.
Lunchtime wasn't anything remarkable either. He'd started overcoming the New Kid Syndrome and had since found a group of students to regularly sit with at lunch, which he was grateful for because standing awkwardly for a place to sit was one of his least favorite things, ever. Rose Granger-Weasley was one of the people in his group, and apparently she was something of a big deal, but againโCaine was not only a Muggleborn (No-Maj-born where he came from) but also an American, so he wasn't 100% sure why. It had something to do with her parents, he knew that much, but she seemed embarrassed whenever anyone asked, so he refrained.
Afternoon classes were similarly mundane. He did set something on fire in Potions, but that was pretty standard for him. THe professor put it out with a vaguely disapproving but overall resigned look. Caine winced, but c'mon, Potions just wasn't his thing. Slughorn knew it, and all his classmates knew it.
Boring was almost worse in his book than disastrous, so by the time the evening rolled around, Caine was more than ready to finish his dinner quickly and go out to the Quidditch pitch. Marco had invited him to practice, and he'd be an idiot to turn down a chance to do more of what he genuinely loved. It was almost supernatural in its speed, how quickly he ran up to his dorm to grab his broom and sprinted outside. There were two figures flying, which, okay, he didn't expect, butโ
He stopped dead in his tracks. No fucking way.
To be fair, he probably should have asked if Marco was bringing anyone along, but he was too excited at the prospect of Qudiditch, can you blame him? And now he was paying the price for his Gryffindor-trademarked recklessness.
It seemed he wasn't the only one unhappy with the arrangement, because Channing Fucking Nott spun his broom around to yell at him to leave. Which Caine had kind of been planning on doing, but now he had to stay purely out of spite, as a big ol' Fuck You to Channing. Serves him right.
"Clearly, I am welcome," Caine sneered, considering your brother invited me, you dick." He slanted an accusing look at Marco. "He didn't tell me we'd have company, though."
Last edited:
vxnilla
skin of your teeth !
caine feinauer.
location. quidditch pitch
mood. dear merlin
outfit. school robes
interactions/mentions. channing, marco
tags.
erised
mood. dear merlin
outfit. school robes
interactions/mentions. channing, marco
tags.
erised
From the way Channing looked at him, Caine could hazard a guess at what was running through his mind. He looked like he wanted to lay into him with either his fists or any convenient nearby weapon, which was just fine by him because Caine could give as good as he got. God, did British people even fight? Or did they just shoot each other nasty looks and asked if the other fancied a spot of fisticuffs, perhaps?
"Well," Caine replied loudly, angling his face upwards and projecting his voice, "convenient all around that I don't give a shit about what is or isn't in your book!"
And, again, Caine totally would have left to be contrary, if it weren't rapidly obvious that he could be more contrary by staying. So he swung a leg over his broom, squinting up into the air to make out the figures of the two brothers. They were talking to each other, but they were a little too high up for him to be able to clearly make out what they were saying. But he wasn't stupid, had enough context clues to hazard a guess. It was probably about Marco playing them bothโwhich, first of all, wasn't that supposed to be a Slytherin thing? not Gryffindor? excuse him?โand not about what they had for breakfast.
Caine looked away for a second. He swore it was only for a second, but by the time his broom hovered off the ground and he made to join them, he'd clearly missed something vital, because Channing was on Marco's tail like he had murder on his mind. And he didn't seem that enraged at Marco, just irritated.
"Ladies, ladies," he shouted, "you're both pretty. Kidding, not you Channing, you're a dick, but can we get some actual Quidditch going on instead of a catfight?"
"Well," Caine replied loudly, angling his face upwards and projecting his voice, "convenient all around that I don't give a shit about what is or isn't in your book!"
And, again, Caine totally would have left to be contrary, if it weren't rapidly obvious that he could be more contrary by staying. So he swung a leg over his broom, squinting up into the air to make out the figures of the two brothers. They were talking to each other, but they were a little too high up for him to be able to clearly make out what they were saying. But he wasn't stupid, had enough context clues to hazard a guess. It was probably about Marco playing them bothโwhich, first of all, wasn't that supposed to be a Slytherin thing? not Gryffindor? excuse him?โand not about what they had for breakfast.
Caine looked away for a second. He swore it was only for a second, but by the time his broom hovered off the ground and he made to join them, he'd clearly missed something vital, because Channing was on Marco's tail like he had murder on his mind. And he didn't seem that enraged at Marco, just irritated.
"Ladies, ladies," he shouted, "you're both pretty. Kidding, not you Channing, you're a dick, but can we get some actual Quidditch going on instead of a catfight?"
vxnilla
skin of your teeth !
caine feinauer.
Caine definitely had all kind of uncharitable thoughts as he watched Channing grind his knuckles into Marco's scalpโnot least because, as the youngest brother in a family of three kids himself, Caine had always found himself on the receiving end of things like noogies. No doubt, if Caine had had the power to be an older brother, he'd have abused his position too (and not felt the least bit bad about it).
He watched with narrowed eyes as Channing yanked the bat from Marco's grip. What was the Ravenclaw planning to do? Beat Caine with it?
Caine loosened his grip on the handle of the broom, just in case he needed the use of his fists. They weren't going to be really effective at all against a Beater's bat, but hey, if Caine could get even one lucky hit in, he'd count it as a win, infirmary or no. Not that he was actually afraid of Channing. He was, like, 99% sure the Chaser didn't have the balls to actually go through with anything.
He was so certain that, even when Channing flew down to grab the Bludger, even when Channing rose back up to his height, even in the moment immediately before Channing swung the bat, Caine was willing to call it as a bluff. He was too proud to want to fly out of the way too early, which came back to bite him in the ass (or the finger, really) when the Bludger hurtled towards him and Caine just barely had enough time to swing himself out of the way.
Even so, the Bludger still smashed into his left hand, the one that he'd been readying to retaliate with had Channing swung over. Something cracked audibly. Caine bit back a curse of pain, instead cut a furious glare over at where Channing hovered on his broom, stupidly smug.
"Oh, fuck you," he seethed. He dug his good hand into his robes to pull out his wand, pointed it at the injury, and muttered, "Episkey." A rush of extreme hot, and then of extreme cold, and the bones in his damaged finger knit back together.
Caine moved to slip his wand back into his robes, but stopped. Well, he already had the wand out, and when in Rome, right? He spent a brief moment deciding between the horn-growing hex and the tickling hex, decided on the former, and pointed a wand at Channing to shout, "Anteoculatia!"
He watched with narrowed eyes as Channing yanked the bat from Marco's grip. What was the Ravenclaw planning to do? Beat Caine with it?
Caine loosened his grip on the handle of the broom, just in case he needed the use of his fists. They weren't going to be really effective at all against a Beater's bat, but hey, if Caine could get even one lucky hit in, he'd count it as a win, infirmary or no. Not that he was actually afraid of Channing. He was, like, 99% sure the Chaser didn't have the balls to actually go through with anything.
He was so certain that, even when Channing flew down to grab the Bludger, even when Channing rose back up to his height, even in the moment immediately before Channing swung the bat, Caine was willing to call it as a bluff. He was too proud to want to fly out of the way too early, which came back to bite him in the ass (or the finger, really) when the Bludger hurtled towards him and Caine just barely had enough time to swing himself out of the way.
Even so, the Bludger still smashed into his left hand, the one that he'd been readying to retaliate with had Channing swung over. Something cracked audibly. Caine bit back a curse of pain, instead cut a furious glare over at where Channing hovered on his broom, stupidly smug.
"Oh, fuck you," he seethed. He dug his good hand into his robes to pull out his wand, pointed it at the injury, and muttered, "Episkey." A rush of extreme hot, and then of extreme cold, and the bones in his damaged finger knit back together.
Caine moved to slip his wand back into his robes, but stopped. Well, he already had the wand out, and when in Rome, right? He spent a brief moment deciding between the horn-growing hex and the tickling hex, decided on the former, and pointed a wand at Channing to shout, "Anteoculatia!"
vxnilla
skin of your teeth !
caine feinauer.
location. quidditch pitch
mood. more calm
outfit. school robes
interactions/mentions. channing, marco
tags.
erised
mood. more calm
outfit. school robes
interactions/mentions. channing, marco
tags.
erised
Get in line, Caine mocked mentally. His hand was still prickling from the effects of the small healing charm, lingering in a sliver of bone and a spot of skin, and he wasn't feeling altogether too kindly towards Channingโbut when did he? It was with no small amount of satisfaction that he saw his hex hit his desired target.
Unfortunately, Marco decided to be mature, or whatever, and Caine barely got a glimpse of what Channing looked like with horns before Marco vanished them with a wave of his wand.
He was no fun at all. (And, also, his brother totally started it, so he owed Caine this.)
However, even Caine recognized when he shouldn't push his luck, and the look on Marco's faceโexasperated beyond his years, wholly fed up with no patience left to spareโmade him well aware of where he stood. Which was on the line, and he should watch his step lest he crossed it. As the youngest brother, and one with no small amount of mischief, he'd had that look leveled at him more times than he could count on one hand; it was a little jarring to see it on Marco's face, when he was also the younger sibling.
"Christ, can we act our ages for once? Or is that too much to ask? You two are acting like you're five."
Valid point, Caine demurred in his head. Counterpoint: you knew we hated each other, what else did you think was going to happen? But he had enough common sense to not voice his thoughts aloud.
At Channing's instructions, Caine rolled his eyes, but he followed them obediently with only a single "Alright, Mom" muttered in Channing's general directionโwhich was totally an improvement, come on, he could have been so much more difficult about it. With a quick yank, he flew his broomstick to hover in front of the hoops.
As practice began, Caine watched with an intent eye, half-settling into the kind of pointed composure that had won him so many games in the past. It wasn't complete without the rush of adrenaline that usually accompanied real games, but it was close enough; his head was clear and devoid of anger, and if there were any sharp undercurrents, it was nothing more than a little friendly competition.
And Caine could admit to himselfโprivatelyโthat whatever else Channing was (a dick, idiot, total jerk, etc.), he was a beautiful Chaser. His movements were quick and sure and efficient, his maneuvers tightly controlled. The skill that had netted him the captainship spot on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team came out obviously on th pitch, even if Caine would never say that out loud to Channing's face.
No, what he said instead out loud was this:
"Are you just planning to fly fancy, or were you actually going to try to score something?" He flashed a shark-like grin. "Key word being try, of course."
Unfortunately, Marco decided to be mature, or whatever, and Caine barely got a glimpse of what Channing looked like with horns before Marco vanished them with a wave of his wand.
He was no fun at all. (And, also, his brother totally started it, so he owed Caine this.)
However, even Caine recognized when he shouldn't push his luck, and the look on Marco's faceโexasperated beyond his years, wholly fed up with no patience left to spareโmade him well aware of where he stood. Which was on the line, and he should watch his step lest he crossed it. As the youngest brother, and one with no small amount of mischief, he'd had that look leveled at him more times than he could count on one hand; it was a little jarring to see it on Marco's face, when he was also the younger sibling.
"Christ, can we act our ages for once? Or is that too much to ask? You two are acting like you're five."
Valid point, Caine demurred in his head. Counterpoint: you knew we hated each other, what else did you think was going to happen? But he had enough common sense to not voice his thoughts aloud.
At Channing's instructions, Caine rolled his eyes, but he followed them obediently with only a single "Alright, Mom" muttered in Channing's general directionโwhich was totally an improvement, come on, he could have been so much more difficult about it. With a quick yank, he flew his broomstick to hover in front of the hoops.
As practice began, Caine watched with an intent eye, half-settling into the kind of pointed composure that had won him so many games in the past. It wasn't complete without the rush of adrenaline that usually accompanied real games, but it was close enough; his head was clear and devoid of anger, and if there were any sharp undercurrents, it was nothing more than a little friendly competition.
And Caine could admit to himselfโprivatelyโthat whatever else Channing was (a dick, idiot, total jerk, etc.), he was a beautiful Chaser. His movements were quick and sure and efficient, his maneuvers tightly controlled. The skill that had netted him the captainship spot on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team came out obviously on th pitch, even if Caine would never say that out loud to Channing's face.
No, what he said instead out loud was this:
"Are you just planning to fly fancy, or were you actually going to try to score something?" He flashed a shark-like grin. "Key word being try, of course."
vxnilla
skin of your teeth !
caine feinauer.
location. quidditch pitch
mood. pissy but what else is new
outfit. school robes
interactions/mentions. channing, marco
tags.
erised
mood. pissy but what else is new
outfit. school robes
interactions/mentions. channing, marco
tags.
erised
Channing was the worst.
It wasnโt a new realization, not by any means, but Caine was always surprised to find out how often the thought would reinvent itself to remind him that it existed. Like right now, for instance. Having watched Chan literally do nothing for the past God-even-knows-how-longโwhich, okay, was an exaggeration and also a lie, because he wasn't literally doing nothing, but he may as well have been for all the good it's beenโCaine can say with no small amount of confidence that, yeah, Channing Nott was really the worst.
The passing's fine, okay? Channing's good at passing, or whatever. The Gryffindor Chasers could probably learn a thing or two, as insufferable as Channing is. But he can't just. Spend all his time passing. He can do that when he's alone and not with a Beater and a Keeper, what the fuck.
So, like any good citizen and Quidditch player, Caine informed him of how useless he was being. And, like the utter asshole he was, Channing said, "I'm going to keep working on my passing. You can either hover there and do nothing, or you can go fuck yourself. Up to you."
For a second, Caine swore his vision actually whited out with how furious he was. Channing was a lucky, lucky wizard that Caine didn't hex him into oblivion right then and ther. He'd opened his mouth to curse at Channingโas creatively, colorfully, and violently as h knew howโbut paused just before the first cuss left his mouth. That'd be giving the infuriating Ravenclaw what he wanted.
Instead, he turned to Marco.
"Your brother," he informed the younger Gryffindor pleasantly, like they were talking about the weather, "is a total bag of dicks. And also has no idea that I don't need to fuck myself when I've got a shitton of people willing to do it for me. Which isn't surprising, because he's probably never been laid before."
Which, yeah. Elementary, juvenile, immature, only marginally better than cussing Channing out directly, but his options were limited here.
It wasnโt a new realization, not by any means, but Caine was always surprised to find out how often the thought would reinvent itself to remind him that it existed. Like right now, for instance. Having watched Chan literally do nothing for the past God-even-knows-how-longโwhich, okay, was an exaggeration and also a lie, because he wasn't literally doing nothing, but he may as well have been for all the good it's beenโCaine can say with no small amount of confidence that, yeah, Channing Nott was really the worst.
The passing's fine, okay? Channing's good at passing, or whatever. The Gryffindor Chasers could probably learn a thing or two, as insufferable as Channing is. But he can't just. Spend all his time passing. He can do that when he's alone and not with a Beater and a Keeper, what the fuck.
So, like any good citizen and Quidditch player, Caine informed him of how useless he was being. And, like the utter asshole he was, Channing said, "I'm going to keep working on my passing. You can either hover there and do nothing, or you can go fuck yourself. Up to you."
For a second, Caine swore his vision actually whited out with how furious he was. Channing was a lucky, lucky wizard that Caine didn't hex him into oblivion right then and ther. He'd opened his mouth to curse at Channingโas creatively, colorfully, and violently as h knew howโbut paused just before the first cuss left his mouth. That'd be giving the infuriating Ravenclaw what he wanted.
Instead, he turned to Marco.
"Your brother," he informed the younger Gryffindor pleasantly, like they were talking about the weather, "is a total bag of dicks. And also has no idea that I don't need to fuck myself when I've got a shitton of people willing to do it for me. Which isn't surprising, because he's probably never been laid before."
Which, yeah. Elementary, juvenile, immature, only marginally better than cussing Channing out directly, but his options were limited here.
vxnilla
skin of your teeth !
caine feinauer.
location. quidditch pitch
mood. still pissy but whatevs
outfit. school robes
interactions/mentions. channing, marco
tags.
erised
mood. still pissy but whatevs
outfit. school robes
interactions/mentions. channing, marco
tags.
erised
Honestly, Channing was so lucky that Caine was confident in his Keeping abilities. Sure, he was madโbordering on furious, to be totally genuineโthat Channing would even imply that Caine was anything less than an excellent Keeper, but his record spoke for itself. Some Ravenclaw asshole couldn't just turn his nose up and pretend like Caine didn't save practically very goddamn Quaffle that came near him.
"Say that again after Ravenclaw's next game with us," Caine hollered after Channing's retreating back. That's right, run away, you fucker. "We'll wipe the goddamn floor with you!" He lowered his voice, brows furrowed and mouth curled in a scowl, mimicking in a totally unflattering, inaccurate, and high-pitched voice, "'Watching your last game,' he said. What, he was just watching me like some creeper?"
He, of course, completely ignored the fact that, you know. Captains usually watched other teams, and even specific players on those teams, in order to come up with a good strategy for themselves.
Marco's reaction delighted him. Since the younger Gryffindor was often the voice of reason to Caine, and now the mediator between both Caine and his older brother, it was easy to forget that he was pretty young. An infant. Barely little more than a fetus. Was it even legal for him to be on a broom?
He was considerably less delighted to hear of Channing's exploits. His nose wrinkled as he spat, "You mean there are people desperate enough to sleep with him? Dramatically, he shuddered at the thought, as if to fully communicate the extent of his disgust. Again, Caine, as a master of ignoring everything that didn't conveniently align with what he was saying, proceeded to ignore the fact that if Channing had a complete personality implant that made him, y'know, not and irredeemable complete jerk, he'd 100% tap that.
"But fine, I'll spare your virgin ears. You'll get laid sometime, never fear," he offered magnanimously, as if Marco had ever expressed concern that he wouldn't. "We can practice, just the two of us. How do you wanna do it, though? Likeโyou just. Hit bludgers at me, or something?"
"Say that again after Ravenclaw's next game with us," Caine hollered after Channing's retreating back. That's right, run away, you fucker. "We'll wipe the goddamn floor with you!" He lowered his voice, brows furrowed and mouth curled in a scowl, mimicking in a totally unflattering, inaccurate, and high-pitched voice, "'Watching your last game,' he said. What, he was just watching me like some creeper?"
He, of course, completely ignored the fact that, you know. Captains usually watched other teams, and even specific players on those teams, in order to come up with a good strategy for themselves.
Marco's reaction delighted him. Since the younger Gryffindor was often the voice of reason to Caine, and now the mediator between both Caine and his older brother, it was easy to forget that he was pretty young. An infant. Barely little more than a fetus. Was it even legal for him to be on a broom?
He was considerably less delighted to hear of Channing's exploits. His nose wrinkled as he spat, "You mean there are people desperate enough to sleep with him? Dramatically, he shuddered at the thought, as if to fully communicate the extent of his disgust. Again, Caine, as a master of ignoring everything that didn't conveniently align with what he was saying, proceeded to ignore the fact that if Channing had a complete personality implant that made him, y'know, not and irredeemable complete jerk, he'd 100% tap that.
"But fine, I'll spare your virgin ears. You'll get laid sometime, never fear," he offered magnanimously, as if Marco had ever expressed concern that he wouldn't. "We can practice, just the two of us. How do you wanna do it, though? Likeโyou just. Hit bludgers at me, or something?"
erised
๐ฅ๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐๐ง
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[div class="title tabsContent tabsContent1"]channing[/div]
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Channing just chuckled as he flew away, Caine's words echoing in his ears. "Say that again after Ravenclaw's next game." he mocked to himself. Yeah, okay. And then he lost it at the next.
Chan turned his broom around to face Caine. "You'll wipe the floor with us?" he repeated, raising a brow. "Funny, because if I'm remembering correctly, it was us who literally wiped the floor with your seeker."
The last time the two teams played each other, a Ravenclaw beater hit a bludger at the Gryffindor seeker while they were chasing the Snitch and caused the seeker to go tumbling to the ground. Everyone was fine in the end luckily, but Channing considered that whole fiasco as 'wiping the floor with the Gryffindor seeker'.
'What, he was just watching me like some creeper?'
And then Marco just turned to stare at Caine. "You do know that most, if not all, students at Hogwarts turn up to watch every Quidditch game, right? Of course he was watching you," he shook his head. "And plus, he's the Ravenclaw captain. He needs to size up his opponent, figure out what they're up against."
When he saw Caine's nose wrinkle, Marco knew the subject wasn't going to be dropped that easily and just groaned loudly. "Yes. Yes I do mean there are people who want to sleep with him." The groan got even louder at the next sentence. "Lucky for you, not being laid isn't one of my fears. Now, can we please drop this?" He'd honestly probably start crying if this whole talk continued on.
But then he was relieved when Caine finally dropped it. "No," he shook his head at the question. "The keeper hardly ever has to deal with bludgers unless they have the quaffle. It wouldn't make sense for me to keep hitting them at you when you don't usually have to deal with them," He'd rather they do something productive. "I'll play chaser and try to score on you."
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mood: ugh
location: quidditch pitch
tags:
vxnilla
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[div class=credit]code by
erised
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Chan turned his broom around to face Caine. "You'll wipe the floor with us?" he repeated, raising a brow. "Funny, because if I'm remembering correctly, it was us who literally wiped the floor with your seeker."
The last time the two teams played each other, a Ravenclaw beater hit a bludger at the Gryffindor seeker while they were chasing the Snitch and caused the seeker to go tumbling to the ground. Everyone was fine in the end luckily, but Channing considered that whole fiasco as 'wiping the floor with the Gryffindor seeker'.
'What, he was just watching me like some creeper?'
And then Marco just turned to stare at Caine. "You do know that most, if not all, students at Hogwarts turn up to watch every Quidditch game, right? Of course he was watching you," he shook his head. "And plus, he's the Ravenclaw captain. He needs to size up his opponent, figure out what they're up against."
When he saw Caine's nose wrinkle, Marco knew the subject wasn't going to be dropped that easily and just groaned loudly. "Yes. Yes I do mean there are people who want to sleep with him." The groan got even louder at the next sentence. "Lucky for you, not being laid isn't one of my fears. Now, can we please drop this?" He'd honestly probably start crying if this whole talk continued on.
But then he was relieved when Caine finally dropped it. "No," he shook his head at the question. "The keeper hardly ever has to deal with bludgers unless they have the quaffle. It wouldn't make sense for me to keep hitting them at you when you don't usually have to deal with them," He'd rather they do something productive. "I'll play chaser and try to score on you."
____________________________________________________________
mood: ugh
location: quidditch pitch
tags:
vxnilla
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[/div][div class=credit]code by
erised
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