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Post by Daniel on Nov 18, 2007 20:00:25 GMT -5
//Yeah, I can't think of a decent thread name...//
Jake Tripp wandered out onto the London Pitch, looking around the empty stands. He was the only there, and it was kind of like a trip through memories. All of the games he had played in the last few years flashed through his mind, and he smiled slightly at some of the funnier moments. He had a broomstick with him, although it wasn't his best. That one was being repaired after the last match. He looked around once more, holding the broom in his right hand.
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Post by liv on Nov 18, 2007 20:24:32 GMT -5
All was quiet in the London pitch. The field was empty and unoccupied. You could probably hear a pin drop had it been on the opposite end of the entire stadium. Up in the highest stand of the pitch, sat Nathaniel Borden... or rather, slept Nathaniel Borden. His eyes lids closed shut, and his feet resting on the bench just in front of him, the tall, dark, young man lay sound asleep. Why in the London pitch? Well, because he had no where else to get any shut eye. Nathaniel never had a proper home, and his bed happened to be the first place he could find.
With hearing sharp as a fox he sensed the presence of someone else entering the large stadium. He awoke slowly, a light yawn escaped him. He neglected to rise from his seat, but he did sit up properly. Someone standing on the lush grass with a broom in one hand. Perhaps a quidditch player looking to find some practice? Not on Nathaniel's watch. He made a nasty habit of bothering just about anyone he encountered, and this young bloak would be no exception. He stood up slowly and made his way down the rows of seats that led to the smooth clean cut grass of the quidditch pitch. Nathaniel hopped over the railing of the front most stand while balancing one hand on the railing and landing with a small thud on the grass. ooc| Had to bring back Livvehh, she'll come in too promise, cause I know how much you love her ^_^
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Post by Daniel on Nov 18, 2007 20:34:24 GMT -5
Jake mounted his broom, but just before he took off into the air, he heard someone land on the Pitch. Turning, he saw a guy he didn't know, which wasn't surprising. He had two hopes about the person. That he wasn't a fan or player from a rival team that had a grudge against him, and that it wasn't a dedicated fan. He wasn't sure which was worse. The players from other teams could get nasty, but the fans just never left. He had spent three hours trying to get rid of a fan once, and had blown the whole time he was trying to practice.
Jake sized the person up, glancing up and down. He didn't say anything, but silently walked over to where the newcomer was. Finally, Jake spoke up. "H'lo," he said halfheartedly, staring semi-suspiciously at this person's unsmiling face.
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Post by liv on Nov 18, 2007 20:38:38 GMT -5
The young fellow who stood before him appeared nice and friendly to the core; how disgusting. Nathaniel wrinkled his nose as if he had smelled something awful. Such a friendly face, such a friendly greeting, Nathaniel mustered feelings of great dislike within mere miliseconds. Nathaniel had assumed he was a quidditch player. "I suppose you play quidditch in here?" Nathaniel asked, still with a look of discontent settled on his sharp features.
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Post by Daniel on Nov 18, 2007 20:44:10 GMT -5
//LOL!...Jake...friendly...*tries not to laugh*//
"Er...yes..." Jake said, frowning a bit. He had spoken with obvious disdain for the person standing in front of him. No, I'm here to play a friendly game of Exploding Snap, he thought, annoyed. Of course he bloody played Quidditch here. It was a Quidditch stadium, he had a broom, he was wearing Quidditch robes. Who the hell was this person? Jake didn't have time to sit around socializing while he was supposed to be practicing.
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Post by liv on Nov 18, 2007 20:57:36 GMT -5
"Well, unfortunately, I'm not here for an autograph..." he started to say retrieving his wand from the back pocket of his jeans. "Just here to kill the first quidditch moron I see..." He flipped it between his fingers in a way that was all to familiar. Almost reminisent of someone thought to be dead. Nathaniel appeared to be thinking while a small sadistic smile formed. He was clearly thinking of ways to kill this boy just for kicks... but perhaps he wouldn't get the chance. His sister Olivia was about to step on to the pitch shouting 'There you are Nate! I've been looking for you everywhere!' but she swallowed the sound of her own voice at the site of someone she hoped to never see again. Liv backed away, to hide behind one of the spectator towers. There was Jake in perfect view, she had a chance to ambush and she wasn't about to let her brother mess up her chances. She bit her bottom lip, wondering what to do next.
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Post by Daniel on Nov 18, 2007 21:02:54 GMT -5
//Your sig say 'Olvia Borden', by the way, instead of Olivia.//
"Sorry I have to wreck this for you, but I don't go down easily," Jake said without emotion. He noticed the twirling wand and blinked. "Before you attempt to murder me, could I ask you a question?" He asked, which was a question in itself, but he didn't mention that. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "Are you related to Liv? Liv Borden, I think it is..." He looked up into the person's face, searching for a sign that he had guessed correctly.
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Post by Tally-Wa [crazy admin #1] on Nov 18, 2007 21:12:18 GMT -5
"Lazy son-of-a-" Az Goodwill held a clipboard with a list of Pitch regulations and rules. She paced the sidelines and checked off each time a standard was broken. Apparently, one of the new jobs of her position was to make sure all 'Quidditch Pitches were safe'. As if she cared. She turned to the two boys. Remembering Jake as the boy who she had placed a personal hit upon, she smiled. First Fate shows up, now him. London was sure to be fun. "Excuse me." Azreal was on the other side of the Stadium, but decided to walk there slowly due to her inability to dust lately. Even if she had been able to dust herself somewhere, she could not have done it without 18 DP reporters talking about 'The Head of The Wizard Confederation having connections with the undead.' It actually sounded more like something Lockhart (Arkarian, not Gilderoy) would put in the paper. He owned it now, and it was common knowledge that they despised each other. But, Hell, Az despised a lot of people. She continued, cupping her hands. "Excuse me. The Pitch is closed today for a mandatory check-up." She looked at the new girl and glared, supposing that she was the mildly interesting man's girlfriend. Yes, she saw Liv. But only because it was hard not to when you were that observant. "Sorry to interrupt." She finally was near to the two, close enough to see that the mysterious man had that all-too-familiar look in his eyes. A look that spoke of murderous intent. "But this premises must be evacuated for the check-up." She glared deliberately at the man. She remembered the exact place of her wand, in a pocket in her long pea coat. It was a nice color, black. And loaned to her by her step-mother who was giving her tips on how to make someone scream without even lifting a finger. She hadn't spoken to her father, of course, just her soon-to-be stepmother. Diane was a brilliant woman at times. Meek mostly, but knowledgeable.
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