(no subject)
Week Name/Date/Time: Promises and Plans/Monday, October 10th, 2005/9:55am
Location:Grounds
Open To: Any! (Enemies maybe? :D)
Currently Involving: Grady Bucher and Tyra Jaregski
Despite the cold weather Grady was in shorts. However, they brushed the top of his knees, and his socks flirted with his shins. His shirt had long sleeves, and his feet appropriately donned cleats. There was large net of magical robes across from him, waiting for the ball to be shot into them. Grady seemed preoccupied with quick foot movements. He bounced around, the ball swerving between his feet, and finally rolling out of his immediate reach. He grunted a sort of exasperated cuss word and chased after it. With all the energy he had left, Grady heaved one good kicked and the ball flew into the nets which quickly enveloped it.
Collapsing to the ground, Grady pushed the very sweaty pieces of hair from his face and sighed. His muggle friends would not be impressed if he returned from Hogwarts and his skills were not up to snuff. Just because he had no one to practice with did not mean he could not improve. Magic was very helpful, and from it he created a suitable net. Waving his wand at the make shift net, the robes sizzled into nothingness; the ball dropped to the ground and rolled over, stopping in his lap. He wasn't sure which sounded better: Grady Bucher the Auror, or Grady Bucher the Professional Football Player. He knew one thing though, Bucher was an ugly last name, that was for sure. He was also certain that no girl would ever care to marry him either, not with the obligation to take his hideous name. Unless her name was say, Amelia. Amelia Bucher actually sounded pretty.
He watched as quite a few sixth years rushed across the grounds, practically running to get to their classes on time. He smiled and stretched his arms toward the sky. He had no classes today. A study hall or two, but he didn't honestly believe that anyone would give him a detention if he missed his next one. Some students always hated Mondays, but Grady had always loved them. When everyone else was dreary, he was bright and sunny. You had to get into school mode eventually, why not the very first day? But this year, with no classes, he enjoyed his Monday's much more thoroughly. For the first few weeks (before he was stung) they consisted of several trips to the kitchens, many many sweets, and a good practice of either quidditch or football. There was plenty of times to hit up the kitchens, so Grady decided he might insert a nap time into his schedule. Unfortunately, he could not get a wink of sleep and had to settle for resting his eyes.
Location:Grounds
Open To: Any! (Enemies maybe? :D)
Currently Involving: Grady Bucher and Tyra Jaregski
Despite the cold weather Grady was in shorts. However, they brushed the top of his knees, and his socks flirted with his shins. His shirt had long sleeves, and his feet appropriately donned cleats. There was large net of magical robes across from him, waiting for the ball to be shot into them. Grady seemed preoccupied with quick foot movements. He bounced around, the ball swerving between his feet, and finally rolling out of his immediate reach. He grunted a sort of exasperated cuss word and chased after it. With all the energy he had left, Grady heaved one good kicked and the ball flew into the nets which quickly enveloped it.
Collapsing to the ground, Grady pushed the very sweaty pieces of hair from his face and sighed. His muggle friends would not be impressed if he returned from Hogwarts and his skills were not up to snuff. Just because he had no one to practice with did not mean he could not improve. Magic was very helpful, and from it he created a suitable net. Waving his wand at the make shift net, the robes sizzled into nothingness; the ball dropped to the ground and rolled over, stopping in his lap. He wasn't sure which sounded better: Grady Bucher the Auror, or Grady Bucher the Professional Football Player. He knew one thing though, Bucher was an ugly last name, that was for sure. He was also certain that no girl would ever care to marry him either, not with the obligation to take his hideous name. Unless her name was say, Amelia. Amelia Bucher actually sounded pretty.
He watched as quite a few sixth years rushed across the grounds, practically running to get to their classes on time. He smiled and stretched his arms toward the sky. He had no classes today. A study hall or two, but he didn't honestly believe that anyone would give him a detention if he missed his next one. Some students always hated Mondays, but Grady had always loved them. When everyone else was dreary, he was bright and sunny. You had to get into school mode eventually, why not the very first day? But this year, with no classes, he enjoyed his Monday's much more thoroughly. For the first few weeks (before he was stung) they consisted of several trips to the kitchens, many many sweets, and a good practice of either quidditch or football. There was plenty of times to hit up the kitchens, so Grady decided he might insert a nap time into his schedule. Unfortunately, he could not get a wink of sleep and had to settle for resting his eyes.