- Messages
- 3,364
- OOC First Name
- Charlie
- Blood Status
- Half Blood
- Relationship Status
- Seeing Somebody
- Sexual Orientation
- Ivy
- Wand
- Knotted 13 1/2 Inch Flexible Fir Wand With Augurey Tail Feather Core
- Age
- 3/2040 (20)
Flynn had been so sure he was never going to be able to fly or play Quidditch again. He had spent his whole winter break feeling depressed about that one thing, not even wanting to think about how his dream of playing Quidditch professionally was being flushed right down the toilet. And then he had gotten to Hogwarts, seen the Quidditch pitch, heard people talking about the upcoming try-outs and what positions they were going to be going for and his mood had gotten worse. And then, last night, in fact, he had decided he didn't want to completely give up on it all just yet. It wasn't fair. Missing a foot and a bit of his right leg shouldn't stop him from playing, he still had his prosthetic, there had to be a loophole, some way around it, some way that he could still play and not completely give up on everything.
He was careful as he moved out onto the pitch, it was early morning, an early morning mist still in the air and not another person in sight for the time being. Just the way he wanted it. Flynn was careful as he picked out one of the brooms to try, giving it a good look over, properly inspecting the bars you were supposed to rest your feet on. But now he was out here in the middle of the pitch with no one else around he was starting to get a little nervous. With one last check of his prosthetic to make sure it was going to stay in place, Flynn swung a leg over the broom and, with a loud swallow of nerves, pushed off from the ground. And already he was having problems, his left foot found it's place without even thinking about it, but it was hard to tell with his right, having to actually look back at what he was doing to properly guide the prosthetic foot to the right place. And once it was there there were just more problems, he couldn't push down too hard if it didn't want it to hurt, but without pushing, his shoe was already slipping. And he hadn't even moved yet.
Maybe this was just all completely hopeless.
He was careful as he moved out onto the pitch, it was early morning, an early morning mist still in the air and not another person in sight for the time being. Just the way he wanted it. Flynn was careful as he picked out one of the brooms to try, giving it a good look over, properly inspecting the bars you were supposed to rest your feet on. But now he was out here in the middle of the pitch with no one else around he was starting to get a little nervous. With one last check of his prosthetic to make sure it was going to stay in place, Flynn swung a leg over the broom and, with a loud swallow of nerves, pushed off from the ground. And already he was having problems, his left foot found it's place without even thinking about it, but it was hard to tell with his right, having to actually look back at what he was doing to properly guide the prosthetic foot to the right place. And once it was there there were just more problems, he couldn't push down too hard if it didn't want it to hurt, but without pushing, his shoe was already slipping. And he hadn't even moved yet.
Maybe this was just all completely hopeless.