- Messages
- 2,353
- OOC First Name
- Jesse
- Blood Status
- Pure Blood
- Relationship Status
- Single
- Sexual Orientation
- Bisexual
- Wand
- Straight 11 ½ Inch Sturdy Maple Wand with Ashwinder Dust Core
- Age
- June 20 2038 (24)
Lysander pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long-held, exasperated breath. Quidditch had been a disaster. He'd known it would be tough to beat Slytherin, but he'd still expected more from himself than he'd given. He hadn't been able to defend Flynn, or hinder Blake, and to make matters worse, Emma had broken the rules and gotten into trouble. He couldn't blame her for hitting a bludger after the match had been ended. The frustration of watching Blake easily dodge them left, right and center all match, seeing him catch the snitch yet again, and knowing how much he generally peacocked around with his victory, it was a lot. She'd only done what he'd imagined doing himself. He got it, but the rules had still been broken. She'd put both herself, and the whole team at risk.
Having asked Emma to stay behind after the match under the pretense of helping him to clear up their gear, Lysander seated himself on one of the changeroom benches, still dressed in his Quidditch robes. He felt deflated. He'd had low expectations coming into the game, tried not to get his hopes too high, and somehow, it had gone worse than he'd expected. "I...I don't know where to begin. That sucked." He said, said, after a few moments of silence. He leaned forward, dropping his head into his hands. The year had only just begun, and it was already off to such a miserable start. He peered at his best friend through the gaps of his fingers. "I can't believe you did that. Why did you do that?" He asked, more disbelieving than disappointed. Urgh. He didn't want to have to deal with this. They should have been back at the common room, trying to forget about their loss. Captaining was so much harder than it looked. This would've been easier to deal with if Sierra had still been around, or if it had been anyone but Emma. Why did it have to be Emma?
Having asked Emma to stay behind after the match under the pretense of helping him to clear up their gear, Lysander seated himself on one of the changeroom benches, still dressed in his Quidditch robes. He felt deflated. He'd had low expectations coming into the game, tried not to get his hopes too high, and somehow, it had gone worse than he'd expected. "I...I don't know where to begin. That sucked." He said, said, after a few moments of silence. He leaned forward, dropping his head into his hands. The year had only just begun, and it was already off to such a miserable start. He peered at his best friend through the gaps of his fingers. "I can't believe you did that. Why did you do that?" He asked, more disbelieving than disappointed. Urgh. He didn't want to have to deal with this. They should have been back at the common room, trying to forget about their loss. Captaining was so much harder than it looked. This would've been easier to deal with if Sierra had still been around, or if it had been anyone but Emma. Why did it have to be Emma?