Closed From a Tender Age I Was Cursed With Rage

Celia Vuong

these violent delights have violent ends
 
Messages
2,363
OOC First Name
Ana
Blood Status
Half Blood
Relationship Status
Single
Wand
Curly 11.5'' Sturdy Elm Wand with Meteorite Dust Core
Age
19
Later in the day, once the stands had emptied, the rain had stopped, and the victory party had reached full swing, Celia returned to the Quidditch pitch. The place was deserted, as bleak as the gray skies overhead, and this suited her well. Here, away from prying eyes, she no longer had to pretend she was happy with the outcome of the match. Celia had only been at the victory party for a few minutes, but even that had been excruciating. If she saw one more person congratulate Ivelisse for her lucky — and quite possibly fraudulent — snitch catch, she would scream.

Unlike most of her teammates, Celia hadn't joined the Quidditch team out of any love for the sport. All she'd wanted was something to pad her resume and maybe boost her popularity. Technically she didn't need to play well in order to achieve those things. The colleges she applied to wouldn't know anything about her school athletics involvement beyond the fact that she'd played on a varsity team. But after the last three matches had been cut short, Celia had realized that she genuinely enjoyed Quidditch. She loved racing down the pitch at top speed and calculating angles as she lined up shots. She loved the cracking sound her bat made against bludgers and the half-roar, half-groan that came from the crowd whenever one of her hits landed. She even loved the unsteady exhaustion that always followed a particularly hard-fought game.

Ivelisse had robbed her of all of that. Since she couldn't exactly launch a bludger at her roommate's face in the common room, Celia had come to the pitch instead. There was no one to hit out here, but maybe just knocking bludgers around would help quell the rage that had been simmering inside her since the end of the match. Celia kicked open the Quidditch trunk and released one of the bludgers before hopping on her broom to chase it down. She struck the ball as hard as she could and watched it soar through one of the hoops. That was nice. But it wasn't enough. Celia set off, ready to do it all over again.
 
[million apologies for leaving this so lonnnggg]

Objectively, René knew building up this year's Quidditch season as his chance to give Tilly one last hurrah had been a gamble at best, but he still couldn't help the vision he'd had of getting to show Tilly (and maybe the rest of the team) what a strong player he was. That he could take care of the team and they could win the cup for her final year as a proper send off. And now that'd all ended in a matter of minutes.

Maybe if he'd flown faster, he could have hit Ivelesse before she saw the snitch, or done literally anything before the match had ended. Had he spent too long adjusting his bat as he kicked into the air? Should he practice playing in the rain more often so the visibility wasn't so distracting? It was useless to keep dwelling on it but René couldn't help but try to re-imagine how the game could have ended today. How it should have ended so he would have gotten a proper chance to show everyone what he'd spent the whole semester thinking about.

In the spirit of dwelling, René had taken his time in the locker room, waving off a few offers to follow the rest of the team back to the castle in favour of fussing with his gear longer and longer until the room had cleared out. He needed to clear his head, and maybe prove to himself that he still knew how to hit a bludger or two, heading back onto the pitch once the coast was clear and coming to a stop when he realized someone else had already beaten him to it, watching the familiar figure above him knock a bludger through one of the hoops with a frown.

It was tempting to leave, Celia tended to bring out that instinct in him, especially after such a crushing defeat from Slytherin today, but René was turning over a new leaf this year. He needed to prove that he could handle stuff like this, at least on the pitch. He could deal with sharing space with Celia. At least for a minute. Maybe. Shaking his head, René kicked into the air, feeling a wavering moment of courage as he got moving and caught up to one of the bludgers Celia had released, knocking it towards her like an opening volly.
 
As Celia flew after the bludger, she noticed movement down on the pitch. She instinctively slowed as she tried to get a better look, allowing the ball to shoot out of range. It was René. Irritation flashed through her. Why couldn't she just have one freaking hour to herself? Was that really too much to ask for? She glanced around for the bludger, only to remember that she'd let it get away.

René seemed to notice her, and Celia stared at him stonily. She had half a mind to yell at him to get off the pitch. His penchant for showing up at the most inopportune times was seriously getting on her nerves. And yet something stopped her. Maybe it was reluctant sympathy. Celia didn't need to ask to know that René was likely here for the same reasons as her. After all, she doubted that anyone except Ivelisse had walked off that pitch satisfied. Or maybe she just wanted a more interesting target than a Quidditch hoop to aim for.

Celia watched as he sent a bludger towards her, and she brought up her bat to bunt the ball, grimacing a little at the force of the impact. She raised her eyebrows in challenge before chasing the bludger down and slamming it back towards him. She wasn't really trying to knock René off his broom at this point. But if he so much as uttered the word "boggart," she was ready to fly after him and smack him upside the head with her bat.

((this is not good but I promise the next reply will be better))
 
Rene knew he should have expected Celia to hit the bludger back to him so really had no reason for his belated reaction time as it shot towards him, raising his bat in time to deflect it awkwardly away before watching quietly as the bludger skidded off closer to the stands.

Without something easy (if a little violent) to break the tension, Rene hovered silently for a moment, eyes shifting between Celia and the bludgers about the pitch for a moment before trying to reign in that aforementioned courage and flying closer. "So uh. How about that game?" He offered lamely, giving his bat a half-hearted test swing. There was no hiding he was disappointed about the game's outcome himself, but it was no secret Celia wasn't Iveliesse's biggest fan and he had to wonder if Celia enjoyed winning when she didn't actually get to play or not. "I mean, congratulations, I guess. Champions. Don't you guys ever get tired of winning on the time, aye?" Rene shrugged before hurriedly ducking as one of the bludgers shot past, missing by a margin and causing him to sheepishly rise back to be level with Celia.
 
Celia raised her bat, ready to hit the bludger back when it came her way, but René fumbled his shot, sending the ball towards the stands. She sighed rather dramatically and gave him an irritated look. Seriously? If he was going to bother her, then he could at least make himself useful and actually send the bludger towards her. But somehow, he'd managed to screw up that simple task.

She was about to chase after the bludger when René spoke. Celia sighed again. She'd never met anyone so anxious to fill up silence with pointless chattering as him. "What game?" she asked flatly. "I don't think that match counts as an actual 'game.'" "Fluke" was more appropriate. Or maybe "waste of time." Why bother forcing everyone to suit up and head to the pitch if the snitch was going to be caught in a matter of seconds? "No, it's a thrill every time," she answered sarcastically. While winning was infinitely preferable to losing, Celia struggled to remember the last time she'd been completely satisfied with one of their victories. The past few games had just been a string of disappointments.

René was forced to suddenly duck a bludger, causing Celia to smirk a little. Another one followed suit, and she smacked it away before returning her gaze to René. "Besides, it's not like the other teams give us much of a choice," she said, giving him a pointed look. Celia knew she should probably be a little nicer to René, but at least she hadn't insulted him outright. Plus, she'd aimed the bludger towards the hoops instead of hitting him point blank. That counted as a nice deed, right?
 

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