17 Jan 2020, 04:34
Show Me the Ropes
Arlo had sat alone in his dorm room last Saturday wondering where everyone was at. Normally, all his housemates were either sleeping in or lounging around the Common Room, but that day they had simply just...poofed. As his curiosity peaked, the young boy couldn’t help but investigate. He roamed the halls, usually bustling with activity, the voices of many a students reverberating off the stones. Not this day. Only the low murmurs of a few portraits and the occasional squeak from the suits or arms met his ears. Even as he entered the Great Hall there wasn’t a soul in sight, but that’s when he would hear it. A roar of applause erupted from the grounds.
As Arlo pushed open the large oak doors that guarded the entrance to the castle, he would see them from afar. Surrounded by large grandstands, mad men and women soared through the air with nothing but a handle of a broom to keep them afloat. Their movement made no sense to the boy as they just seemed to swish this way and that. Some threw balls to each other, while a few others swung bats around. There was even a couple that just seemed to fly around, apparently lost as they searched the air for some unknown reason.
Arlo wasn’t completely ignorant...close, but not completely. The young part Goblin obviously knew of the sport called Quidditch. It would be almost impossible to come up in the magical world without seeing the banners or posters and the highlights in the papers, but in the Reynolds home, it meant nothing. They didn’t even own a broom. No, the family much preferred to spend their free time out in the garden or reading a good book in the den. However, once the young boy saw it in action, he couldn’t get it out of his mind.
This would be what brought Arlo to the Quidditch training pitch today. After pestering his dorm mates with question after question, one of them “kindly suggested” that he just go down to the pitch and figure it out for himself. So, he did. There he stood, large golden eyes searching the field and sky for answers. It wasn’t the most thought out plan. No one was there, he had no broom, and the gods only know where those crazy balls come from.
As Arlo pushed open the large oak doors that guarded the entrance to the castle, he would see them from afar. Surrounded by large grandstands, mad men and women soared through the air with nothing but a handle of a broom to keep them afloat. Their movement made no sense to the boy as they just seemed to swish this way and that. Some threw balls to each other, while a few others swung bats around. There was even a couple that just seemed to fly around, apparently lost as they searched the air for some unknown reason.
Arlo wasn’t completely ignorant...close, but not completely. The young part Goblin obviously knew of the sport called Quidditch. It would be almost impossible to come up in the magical world without seeing the banners or posters and the highlights in the papers, but in the Reynolds home, it meant nothing. They didn’t even own a broom. No, the family much preferred to spend their free time out in the garden or reading a good book in the den. However, once the young boy saw it in action, he couldn’t get it out of his mind.
This would be what brought Arlo to the Quidditch training pitch today. After pestering his dorm mates with question after question, one of them “kindly suggested” that he just go down to the pitch and figure it out for himself. So, he did. There he stood, large golden eyes searching the field and sky for answers. It wasn’t the most thought out plan. No one was there, he had no broom, and the gods only know where those crazy balls come from.
20 Jan 2020, 20:17
Show Me the Ropes
@Arlo Reynolds
[font=Segoe Print] While Rafael wasn’t the most comfortable with his broom yet, he found the object to be of his favorite things in the wizarding world.
It was rather strange because, while the broom was one of the more complicated wizarding inventions, the young Gryffindor was rather simple – brash, impulsive, and straight-forward. To put it simply, it was often easy to tell what he was thinking. [Granted, he could hide his emotions rather well when trying, but he only did that around his enemies, when it really mattered.] And, it wasn’t a secret that the young wizard wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed academically. Which was fine, because there were several people who went plenty far without a great knowledge – while it would have been a nice trait to have, he’d never been ashamed of his lack of smarts. He was perfectly fine with who he was, and whoever disagreed, he’d happily punch in the face.
However, this simplicity had never deterred him on the broom. On the contrary, he found that the complex instrument was rather simple when in his capable hands. Perhaps it was his tendency towards action that made him feel this way, or perhaps it was just his general love for sports. He’d always been an active fellow, getting himself into too many jams to count. Though, he found that flying on the broom satisfied his need for action better than any other sport or endeavor he had tried thus far. It simply brought him a sort of peace that filled his entire being with a warm, fuzzy feeling, the same type you received after drinking a nice cup of hot cocoa. Whatever magic was present in his skyward endeavors, he wouldn’t read too much into it.
Though, his Quidditch playing, it pained him to say, needed a bit of work. He might have made a score in the last Quidditch Game, but that weren’t to say that he hadn’t missed several others. That was what had brought him to the pitch today – that, and it was a rather nice day out, what with the sun over his head and the breeze gentler than the usual, chilly breeze of a January day. It also seemed as if the field was rather empty today, as no teams had scheduled any practices. A small blessing, because the young Gryffindor had been planning to get some goal practice in.
His mind had been elsewhere as he entered the field, his attention anywhere but his surroundings. It seemed as if lately the teachers had been stacking up the homework even higher than normal – double the Charms, double the Potions. Double the Transfigurations. Rafa visibly shuddered at the thought of such a vile subject. He had been a bit stressed lately, often coming off as rather aloof to his acquaintances. It rather embarrassed him, but as much as he hated it, his emotions weren’t something he could switch off. He had long since come to terms with his mood swings, but he supposed they were always going to be a learning curve. It was okay, though, because if there was one thing Rafa absolutely loved, it was a challenge to focus on.
Though, it seemed his learning curve was getting the best of him today. He was immediately and abruptly shocked out of his thoughts by a sudden jolt of reflex – in the midst of his thoughts, it seemed as if he had run into someone. He nearly fell down, but quickly caught himself, dropping his broom in the effort to regain his balance. It must have been a rather hilarious sight, he realized, him flailing around for a short moment like an octopus of some sort. Having regained his composure, his cheeks heated up in the slightest, his face somehow managing to look calm and collected. “You mind?” he asked irritably, the words coming out faster than he could filter them.
He realized how rude they had come out, however. It wasn’t as if he were angry or anything – on the contrary, his mouth was running on the sudden surprise that had so abruptly come to him. Part of him felt a jolt of remorse towards these harsh words – he had no intention to attack his fellow schoolmate. Actually, the misdemeanor had been more of his fault than anything. He felt a slight blush come to his cheeks, and though his face remained a neutral state, his remorse was evident to the other boy. He was gearing up to apologize, or something along those lines, when the victim of his ignorance finally caught his eyes.
The guy had shaggy brown hair, paired with golden-brown eyes and pale skin. A fine look about him, to any stranger or onlooker. But this isn’t what made him stand out among his peers. “You’re… short..” Rafael stammered out, the height of the boy outright shocking him. People weren’t supposed to be that small – most short people were at least over 4’6. Or 4’0, for that matter. Now, towering over the other boy, he felt his jaw dropping, completely portraying his state of shock. The young Gryffindor himself stood at about 5’4 at the ripe age of eleven, towering over most of the boys his age anyways. But, this…
It occurred to him that, once again, his words had been quite provocative. His face only grew redder, his lip tucked in between his teeth. “Yeah, um,” he mumbled. “Excuse me.” He rubbed his neck, trying to focus on anything other than the boy’s height. He wasn’t an apologetic guy or anything, but the feeling in his gut only grew worse and worse as the moments passed. “I’m, eh, sorry about that. I didn’t see you there.” He paused for a moment, the words leaving a bit of a sour taste in his mouth. After a moment, he spoke again. “I’m Rafael.” He stuck his hands out for the other guy to shake, his face a mess of emotions – shock, embarrassment, and guilt.
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[font=Segoe Print] While Rafael wasn’t the most comfortable with his broom yet, he found the object to be of his favorite things in the wizarding world.
It was rather strange because, while the broom was one of the more complicated wizarding inventions, the young Gryffindor was rather simple – brash, impulsive, and straight-forward. To put it simply, it was often easy to tell what he was thinking. [Granted, he could hide his emotions rather well when trying, but he only did that around his enemies, when it really mattered.] And, it wasn’t a secret that the young wizard wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed academically. Which was fine, because there were several people who went plenty far without a great knowledge – while it would have been a nice trait to have, he’d never been ashamed of his lack of smarts. He was perfectly fine with who he was, and whoever disagreed, he’d happily punch in the face.
However, this simplicity had never deterred him on the broom. On the contrary, he found that the complex instrument was rather simple when in his capable hands. Perhaps it was his tendency towards action that made him feel this way, or perhaps it was just his general love for sports. He’d always been an active fellow, getting himself into too many jams to count. Though, he found that flying on the broom satisfied his need for action better than any other sport or endeavor he had tried thus far. It simply brought him a sort of peace that filled his entire being with a warm, fuzzy feeling, the same type you received after drinking a nice cup of hot cocoa. Whatever magic was present in his skyward endeavors, he wouldn’t read too much into it.
Though, his Quidditch playing, it pained him to say, needed a bit of work. He might have made a score in the last Quidditch Game, but that weren’t to say that he hadn’t missed several others. That was what had brought him to the pitch today – that, and it was a rather nice day out, what with the sun over his head and the breeze gentler than the usual, chilly breeze of a January day. It also seemed as if the field was rather empty today, as no teams had scheduled any practices. A small blessing, because the young Gryffindor had been planning to get some goal practice in.
His mind had been elsewhere as he entered the field, his attention anywhere but his surroundings. It seemed as if lately the teachers had been stacking up the homework even higher than normal – double the Charms, double the Potions. Double the Transfigurations. Rafa visibly shuddered at the thought of such a vile subject. He had been a bit stressed lately, often coming off as rather aloof to his acquaintances. It rather embarrassed him, but as much as he hated it, his emotions weren’t something he could switch off. He had long since come to terms with his mood swings, but he supposed they were always going to be a learning curve. It was okay, though, because if there was one thing Rafa absolutely loved, it was a challenge to focus on.
Though, it seemed his learning curve was getting the best of him today. He was immediately and abruptly shocked out of his thoughts by a sudden jolt of reflex – in the midst of his thoughts, it seemed as if he had run into someone. He nearly fell down, but quickly caught himself, dropping his broom in the effort to regain his balance. It must have been a rather hilarious sight, he realized, him flailing around for a short moment like an octopus of some sort. Having regained his composure, his cheeks heated up in the slightest, his face somehow managing to look calm and collected. “You mind?” he asked irritably, the words coming out faster than he could filter them.
He realized how rude they had come out, however. It wasn’t as if he were angry or anything – on the contrary, his mouth was running on the sudden surprise that had so abruptly come to him. Part of him felt a jolt of remorse towards these harsh words – he had no intention to attack his fellow schoolmate. Actually, the misdemeanor had been more of his fault than anything. He felt a slight blush come to his cheeks, and though his face remained a neutral state, his remorse was evident to the other boy. He was gearing up to apologize, or something along those lines, when the victim of his ignorance finally caught his eyes.
The guy had shaggy brown hair, paired with golden-brown eyes and pale skin. A fine look about him, to any stranger or onlooker. But this isn’t what made him stand out among his peers. “You’re… short..” Rafael stammered out, the height of the boy outright shocking him. People weren’t supposed to be that small – most short people were at least over 4’6. Or 4’0, for that matter. Now, towering over the other boy, he felt his jaw dropping, completely portraying his state of shock. The young Gryffindor himself stood at about 5’4 at the ripe age of eleven, towering over most of the boys his age anyways. But, this…
It occurred to him that, once again, his words had been quite provocative. His face only grew redder, his lip tucked in between his teeth. “Yeah, um,” he mumbled. “Excuse me.” He rubbed his neck, trying to focus on anything other than the boy’s height. He wasn’t an apologetic guy or anything, but the feeling in his gut only grew worse and worse as the moments passed. “I’m, eh, sorry about that. I didn’t see you there.” He paused for a moment, the words leaving a bit of a sour taste in his mouth. After a moment, he spoke again. “I’m Rafael.” He stuck his hands out for the other guy to shake, his face a mess of emotions – shock, embarrassment, and guilt.
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I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
22 Jan 2020, 04:21
Show Me the Ropes
As Arlo stood there looking out at the empty pitch, the memory of his first flying lesson came to mind. He couldn’t help but giggle out loud at the thought as it was quite funny to look back on. However, at the time, it had been a little terrifying. Some mad women had plopped him down on a broom and away he went. Full speed in fact. Arlo had pulled straight up on the handle causing him to do a loop the loop straight back into the ground. There he was, a crumpled mass on the field as the broom was left sticking straight up out of the ground.
“Ow!” The young boy yelped as his thoughts were interrupted by a swift force to his backside. After the temporary shock of hurtling forward into the ground wore off a rush of excitement coursed through his tiny body. Arlo quickly jumped off the ground, picking bits of dirt and grass out of his bangs before brushing them aside. Large, golden eyes shone bright with glee as they searched his surroundings. “Miks roqa baam uma uk sruka crozae brocd borrk! (Must have been one of those crazy black balls!)” He shouted into the air. Arlo had seen them chasing after students at last weeks match. Odd little things they were. Hell bent on trying to murder students. It was fascinating!
“You mind?” A voice called out from behind him.
Arlo spun around with a little hop. The excited shine in his eyes dulled as he stared up at the dark haired boy that towered over him. Any sign of remorse on his face would have been lost to Arlo, as well as any offense that many might have taken from his words. Normal social cues weren’t the boy’s strong suit. “Do I mind?” Arlo asked as a confused expression washed over his face. “Mind what?” His voice might have been surprisingly gruff for someone of his size and stature. “Never mind your silly question. Have you seen the ball that attacked me? I’ve come here to study them.”
“You’re...short..” The other boy blurted out as he looked down upon Arlo.
“Yes, I am. Well, my grandfather...” He paused as his eyes scrunched in concentration, his long index finger tapping his chin as he thought. “Sruird I sarr rek? (Should I tell him?)”Arlo said in a whisper. His family had warned him about being forward about what he was. They said that some witches and wizards might look at him poorly for it. They also said you weren’t supposed to tell lies. It was all a bit confusing. He spoke up again, “You could say that it runs in the family.”
“Yeah, um, excuse me. I’m, eh, sorry about that. I didn’t see you there. I’m Rafael.” The other boy continued as he held his hand out in greeting.
Arlo reached out and grasped his hands with both of his as he shook it. He might be short, but Rafael might notice that his hands were most likely larger than his own. “Hello Rafael! My name’s Arlo.” The boy greeted him back enthusiastically. It was always nice to meet new people and again, Arlo would be oblivious to his discomfort. It would be in that moment that he would eye the broom that Rafael had with him. “My goodness! Is that yours?!”
“Ow!” The young boy yelped as his thoughts were interrupted by a swift force to his backside. After the temporary shock of hurtling forward into the ground wore off a rush of excitement coursed through his tiny body. Arlo quickly jumped off the ground, picking bits of dirt and grass out of his bangs before brushing them aside. Large, golden eyes shone bright with glee as they searched his surroundings. “Miks roqa baam uma uk sruka crozae brocd borrk! (Must have been one of those crazy black balls!)” He shouted into the air. Arlo had seen them chasing after students at last weeks match. Odd little things they were. Hell bent on trying to murder students. It was fascinating!
“You mind?” A voice called out from behind him.
Arlo spun around with a little hop. The excited shine in his eyes dulled as he stared up at the dark haired boy that towered over him. Any sign of remorse on his face would have been lost to Arlo, as well as any offense that many might have taken from his words. Normal social cues weren’t the boy’s strong suit. “Do I mind?” Arlo asked as a confused expression washed over his face. “Mind what?” His voice might have been surprisingly gruff for someone of his size and stature. “Never mind your silly question. Have you seen the ball that attacked me? I’ve come here to study them.”
“You’re...short..” The other boy blurted out as he looked down upon Arlo.
“Yes, I am. Well, my grandfather...” He paused as his eyes scrunched in concentration, his long index finger tapping his chin as he thought. “Sruird I sarr rek? (Should I tell him?)”Arlo said in a whisper. His family had warned him about being forward about what he was. They said that some witches and wizards might look at him poorly for it. They also said you weren’t supposed to tell lies. It was all a bit confusing. He spoke up again, “You could say that it runs in the family.”
“Yeah, um, excuse me. I’m, eh, sorry about that. I didn’t see you there. I’m Rafael.” The other boy continued as he held his hand out in greeting.
Arlo reached out and grasped his hands with both of his as he shook it. He might be short, but Rafael might notice that his hands were most likely larger than his own. “Hello Rafael! My name’s Arlo.” The boy greeted him back enthusiastically. It was always nice to meet new people and again, Arlo would be oblivious to his discomfort. It would be in that moment that he would eye the broom that Rafael had with him. “My goodness! Is that yours?!”
28 Jan 2020, 21:37
Show Me the Ropes
@Arlo Reynolds
[font=Segoe Print]“Have you seen the ball that attacked me?”
The boy's voice slightly surprised Rafael, in the way that it was much deeper than it should have been for such a… small person. The signs of his shock were subtle but ever-evident in his demeanor – his eyes slightly widening, his lips parting in his astonishment, a confused but almost amused air to him. Only one with an attentive eye would notice, however, as the boy somewhat maintained his level-headed look. He found that the boy’s question rather confused him, though, as his impassiveness gave way to an even heavier sort of confusion. He soon found his brow furrowed, gripping his broom with two hands and swinging it dully at his waist, a puzzled look on his features. "Ball?" he asked, an air of uncertainty to his voice. "I don't…..That wasn't….."
It took a moment for the Gryffindor to realize that the other boy had mistaken his inattentiveness for a rogue bludger. It had never occurred to him that, perhaps the boy didn’t know all that much about Quidditch. After all, when he first came, he hadn’t known a lick of information regarding the wizarding sport. A small, amused look flashed across his features for a moment, as he let himself enjoy the boy’s naivety, before settling himself back into a more apologetic look. "Yeah, I’m… sorry… about that…,” he repeated wryly, taking one hand off his broom to rub his neck. “That wasn't a ball – it was my not paying attention. There aren’t any balls on the field right now, anyhow. Trust me," he added, flashing the boy – Arlo – a weak smile, "If you were hit with a bludger, you wouldn't be standing right now."
It seemed as if the boy had been taking the situation rather well so far, though, as he hadn’t seemed to show any anger or annoyance about his rude outbreak. In fact, he had even gone out of his way to address Rafa’s positively embarrassing height-related outburst. He’d made some sort of comment about his grandfather, and…. Shortness running in the family? By the way the boy spoke, he decided not to dig into it too much, as the fact would have been advertised if it were any of his business. But before Rafa could even think to make a comment acknowledging this, the boy had moved on again – this time, regarding his broom. “My goodness! Is that yours?!”
Rafael had been around his school broom long enough to be familiar with it by now – every knob, every uncomfortable prick, every tarnish in the metal. He should have acknowledged the facts, but they had utterly slipped his mind, his mouth moving before he could process his words. "Yeah,” he answered with a breath, before biting his lip. “Erm, no.” He grabbed the broom with both hands again, swinging it in front of him to relieve any anxiousness he was getting from this boy’s quick-mouthed antics. “It's a school broom." He let out a longing sigh, a sparkle appearing in his eye. "I wish, though. S'pose that would be rather nice."
In the midst of his daydreaming, a thought had suddenly occurred to the young Gryffindor – his mind instantly flew back to some of Arlo’s words, significant but overlooked in the moment. "Wait…. Did you say you were studying bludgers?" He raised an eyebrow, a good-natured smirk coming to rest on his features. "Extracurriculars, or something? Last time I checked, they don't have a class regarding Quidditch balls." It was an innocent prod, a ply to get the boy to open up more. Given that Rafael knew quite a bit about the Quidditch world, perhaps he could be a help to the other boy. “Y’know, if you’d want, I could show you some of the balls. Might help you out.”
[font=Segoe Print]“Have you seen the ball that attacked me?”
The boy's voice slightly surprised Rafael, in the way that it was much deeper than it should have been for such a… small person. The signs of his shock were subtle but ever-evident in his demeanor – his eyes slightly widening, his lips parting in his astonishment, a confused but almost amused air to him. Only one with an attentive eye would notice, however, as the boy somewhat maintained his level-headed look. He found that the boy’s question rather confused him, though, as his impassiveness gave way to an even heavier sort of confusion. He soon found his brow furrowed, gripping his broom with two hands and swinging it dully at his waist, a puzzled look on his features. "Ball?" he asked, an air of uncertainty to his voice. "I don't…..That wasn't….."
It took a moment for the Gryffindor to realize that the other boy had mistaken his inattentiveness for a rogue bludger. It had never occurred to him that, perhaps the boy didn’t know all that much about Quidditch. After all, when he first came, he hadn’t known a lick of information regarding the wizarding sport. A small, amused look flashed across his features for a moment, as he let himself enjoy the boy’s naivety, before settling himself back into a more apologetic look. "Yeah, I’m… sorry… about that…,” he repeated wryly, taking one hand off his broom to rub his neck. “That wasn't a ball – it was my not paying attention. There aren’t any balls on the field right now, anyhow. Trust me," he added, flashing the boy – Arlo – a weak smile, "If you were hit with a bludger, you wouldn't be standing right now."
It seemed as if the boy had been taking the situation rather well so far, though, as he hadn’t seemed to show any anger or annoyance about his rude outbreak. In fact, he had even gone out of his way to address Rafa’s positively embarrassing height-related outburst. He’d made some sort of comment about his grandfather, and…. Shortness running in the family? By the way the boy spoke, he decided not to dig into it too much, as the fact would have been advertised if it were any of his business. But before Rafa could even think to make a comment acknowledging this, the boy had moved on again – this time, regarding his broom. “My goodness! Is that yours?!”
Rafael had been around his school broom long enough to be familiar with it by now – every knob, every uncomfortable prick, every tarnish in the metal. He should have acknowledged the facts, but they had utterly slipped his mind, his mouth moving before he could process his words. "Yeah,” he answered with a breath, before biting his lip. “Erm, no.” He grabbed the broom with both hands again, swinging it in front of him to relieve any anxiousness he was getting from this boy’s quick-mouthed antics. “It's a school broom." He let out a longing sigh, a sparkle appearing in his eye. "I wish, though. S'pose that would be rather nice."
In the midst of his daydreaming, a thought had suddenly occurred to the young Gryffindor – his mind instantly flew back to some of Arlo’s words, significant but overlooked in the moment. "Wait…. Did you say you were studying bludgers?" He raised an eyebrow, a good-natured smirk coming to rest on his features. "Extracurriculars, or something? Last time I checked, they don't have a class regarding Quidditch balls." It was an innocent prod, a ply to get the boy to open up more. Given that Rafael knew quite a bit about the Quidditch world, perhaps he could be a help to the other boy. “Y’know, if you’d want, I could show you some of the balls. Might help you out.”
Reducio
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OOC: I apologize for the wait - I went on hiatus for a few days and forgot to inform you. Hope this clears things up!
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
30 Jan 2020, 03:56
Show Me the Ropes
@Rafael D'Spacito
A bit of the wind under Arlo’s wings let out as Rafael gave him the bad news. His shoulders slumped, the corners of his mouth curled downward as the disappointment splashed across his face. There would be no killer balls this day. No chance to see what on Earth made them so angry. It was just the other boy that had knocked him over. Not that this came as too much of a surprise. Arlo had become used to living below other people’s line of site.
However, Rafael’s next statement would lift his spirits back up as he gave the crazed balls a name. “A Bludger?!” Arlo asked with an excited tone. A flash of exhilaration tore through his belly as he suspicions became truth. “So they really are trying to kill us! I knew it!”
Arlo almost doubled over with joy as Rafael stated that the broom was his, but also not his. “A school broom? That’s marvelous. Can anyone get one? Where do they keep them?” The questions would pour from his mouth in rapid order. The young part Goblin scurried forward to stand just before Rafael. Personal space was another concept that eluded the poor boy. If Rafael did not immediately step back or pull the broom away, Arlo’s long fingers would make contact with the broom of the handle. His eyes grew wide with awe as he looked it over. “It’s beautiful.”
Rafael’s next question would snap him out of it as he took a step back. His brow scrunched as his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Extra...what?! Of course there isn’t a class on Quidditch balls. Have you not read your syllabuses? Tsk tsk.” Arlo protested as gave a quick wag of his index finger. “You’re talking silly again, ya know. But never mind that. I am indeed here to study these so called Bludgers. I saw the match last week. Murderous little buggers aren’t they? So, I tried asking my dorm mates about them and they told me that they’d be out here somewhere. Seems they were mistaken though as you’ve said there aren’t any ball out here.”
What Rafael said next would bring the chatty little boy to an uncharacteristic pause. His large golden eyes looked up to the other boy’s as they shone bright with joy. “You can show me them! Ah ha! Why didn’t you say so in the first place. Please Rafael, I must see them.” Arlo begged as he bobbed up and down with excitement.
A bit of the wind under Arlo’s wings let out as Rafael gave him the bad news. His shoulders slumped, the corners of his mouth curled downward as the disappointment splashed across his face. There would be no killer balls this day. No chance to see what on Earth made them so angry. It was just the other boy that had knocked him over. Not that this came as too much of a surprise. Arlo had become used to living below other people’s line of site.
However, Rafael’s next statement would lift his spirits back up as he gave the crazed balls a name. “A Bludger?!” Arlo asked with an excited tone. A flash of exhilaration tore through his belly as he suspicions became truth. “So they really are trying to kill us! I knew it!”
Arlo almost doubled over with joy as Rafael stated that the broom was his, but also not his. “A school broom? That’s marvelous. Can anyone get one? Where do they keep them?” The questions would pour from his mouth in rapid order. The young part Goblin scurried forward to stand just before Rafael. Personal space was another concept that eluded the poor boy. If Rafael did not immediately step back or pull the broom away, Arlo’s long fingers would make contact with the broom of the handle. His eyes grew wide with awe as he looked it over. “It’s beautiful.”
Rafael’s next question would snap him out of it as he took a step back. His brow scrunched as his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Extra...what?! Of course there isn’t a class on Quidditch balls. Have you not read your syllabuses? Tsk tsk.” Arlo protested as gave a quick wag of his index finger. “You’re talking silly again, ya know. But never mind that. I am indeed here to study these so called Bludgers. I saw the match last week. Murderous little buggers aren’t they? So, I tried asking my dorm mates about them and they told me that they’d be out here somewhere. Seems they were mistaken though as you’ve said there aren’t any ball out here.”
What Rafael said next would bring the chatty little boy to an uncharacteristic pause. His large golden eyes looked up to the other boy’s as they shone bright with joy. “You can show me them! Ah ha! Why didn’t you say so in the first place. Please Rafael, I must see them.” Arlo begged as he bobbed up and down with excitement.
OOC: No worries about the delay. I’m never in any rush. Thanks for clarifying though.