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` valesco { a post first war rpg } - February 25th, 2012
25 February 1983 @ 07:19 pm
for rose knightley!
25 February 1983 @ 08:42 pm
The Cup!
Well, it had definitely been a good one.
Finn pushed through the crowd, exhausted, drenched with sweat and rain. The weather had been brutal, making it absolutely impossible to see the snitch, let alone any other ball being thrown around on the pitch; even the players had been hard to make out, and he had cursed the rain and the lightening and thunder. Those zooming on the broomsticks had collided more than once, and he was sure that some of his players and the Kestrels were flying with broken bones. But, no one on either team was willing to sit out the match.
It was the biggest game of their lives, for most of them. He had some champions on his team, hell even Jenkins had a cup under his belt. Some had never been in this spotlight, and some survived on it. Finn was one of those blokes, and in the back of his head he knew that if he didn't catch the snitch tonight that this could quite possibly be his last game. The United's management was notorious when it came to using up a player's skills until they weren't winning anymore. Captains didn't last very long in Puddlemere, and as Finn's feet touched the grass of the pitch, he decided he was going to be much classier than any of the upper management in the United offices could ever be.
He pushed through the crowd, wincing at the fireworks until he spotted the green robes of the person he'd locked his gaze on. No, he wasn't going toward Brookstanton (Finn wasn't that classy), but to the other seeker. He pulled on Broadmoor's arm, knowing the young seeker also had a lot of pride riding on his shoulders because of this match. When he turned him around, Finn's eyes couldn't help but duck down to the wings of the snitch that were poking out the side of Broadmoor's fist, the one-hundred and fifty points that had won the Kestrels the cup. Finn stuck out his hand.
"Nice catch," he said with a firm nod.
ooc: This thread is for anything related to the cup: instant celebrations, deep dark depressions, watching from the crowd---if it relates to the cup, then you can thread it here :)
Finn pushed through the crowd, exhausted, drenched with sweat and rain. The weather had been brutal, making it absolutely impossible to see the snitch, let alone any other ball being thrown around on the pitch; even the players had been hard to make out, and he had cursed the rain and the lightening and thunder. Those zooming on the broomsticks had collided more than once, and he was sure that some of his players and the Kestrels were flying with broken bones. But, no one on either team was willing to sit out the match.
It was the biggest game of their lives, for most of them. He had some champions on his team, hell even Jenkins had a cup under his belt. Some had never been in this spotlight, and some survived on it. Finn was one of those blokes, and in the back of his head he knew that if he didn't catch the snitch tonight that this could quite possibly be his last game. The United's management was notorious when it came to using up a player's skills until they weren't winning anymore. Captains didn't last very long in Puddlemere, and as Finn's feet touched the grass of the pitch, he decided he was going to be much classier than any of the upper management in the United offices could ever be.
He pushed through the crowd, wincing at the fireworks until he spotted the green robes of the person he'd locked his gaze on. No, he wasn't going toward Brookstanton (Finn wasn't that classy), but to the other seeker. He pulled on Broadmoor's arm, knowing the young seeker also had a lot of pride riding on his shoulders because of this match. When he turned him around, Finn's eyes couldn't help but duck down to the wings of the snitch that were poking out the side of Broadmoor's fist, the one-hundred and fifty points that had won the Kestrels the cup. Finn stuck out his hand.
"Nice catch," he said with a firm nod.
ooc: This thread is for anything related to the cup: instant celebrations, deep dark depressions, watching from the crowd---if it relates to the cup, then you can thread it here :)