Carlisle Moonlight
Well-Known Member
- Messages
- 782
- OOC First Name
- Michael
- Wand
- Elder 16 1/2" Essence Of Crystallized Dragon Fire
Carlisle walked out slowly onto the pitch, Custom carved Firebolt in hand. He lay it out on the grass before him. A warm breeze passed through the pitch, gentle blowing his hair. The sun was out and the skies were blue. It was also the birthday of someone very special. Carlisle's mother.. Who happened to have died in a flying accident. Carlisle himself had been there. Both her and her loved to fly, one of their favorite things to do in the world in fact. That was until the accident. And that was when Carlisle had told himself he would never fly again. The reason why Carlisle had a broom then.. Was.. well.. As a sort of tradition. His farther would buy the next new broom that came out in honor of her.. However pointless that may seem. And so it sat before him.. How should would have loved to have flown it. But she could never fly again.
A hand reaching out.. "Up.." The murmur escaped his lips and the Firebolt flew to attention, Jumping up to his hand. As his hand ran along the handle he remembered just how brilliant the feeling was. A smile touching his lips. Then as he gripped it, A flash of the accident, His had retracted. Why was he doing this? Well... Because he believed now was the time to heal from the past.. So that he may fully live his future.
Once more his and came down on the broom, once more he gripped it. Slowly he mounted it before... He was gone, barely a streak in as he flew through the air. Once around the pitch, Twice. A laugh escaped his lips. How could he have forgotten the feeling? To be so free up here. Finally he remembered. In and out the hoops he weaved, all throughout the stands. He tilted up and shot high into the air before coming back down in a barrel roll, spiraling to the earth and near unthinkable speeds. He pulled up at the last moment, the tail of his broom just touching the fine grass below. He remembered something his mother used to do. He laid back, looking up to the skies on his broom. his hand flying past the grass below. Then he rolled and just caught onto the broom before crashing into the ground, He was never really very good at that. And so this continued with back flips and spins and dives, in and out the goal posts, Anything you could imagine. If only his mother could see him.
A hand reaching out.. "Up.." The murmur escaped his lips and the Firebolt flew to attention, Jumping up to his hand. As his hand ran along the handle he remembered just how brilliant the feeling was. A smile touching his lips. Then as he gripped it, A flash of the accident, His had retracted. Why was he doing this? Well... Because he believed now was the time to heal from the past.. So that he may fully live his future.
Once more his and came down on the broom, once more he gripped it. Slowly he mounted it before... He was gone, barely a streak in as he flew through the air. Once around the pitch, Twice. A laugh escaped his lips. How could he have forgotten the feeling? To be so free up here. Finally he remembered. In and out the hoops he weaved, all throughout the stands. He tilted up and shot high into the air before coming back down in a barrel roll, spiraling to the earth and near unthinkable speeds. He pulled up at the last moment, the tail of his broom just touching the fine grass below. He remembered something his mother used to do. He laid back, looking up to the skies on his broom. his hand flying past the grass below. Then he rolled and just caught onto the broom before crashing into the ground, He was never really very good at that. And so this continued with back flips and spins and dives, in and out the goal posts, Anything you could imagine. If only his mother could see him.