+ Shaping Up +

[ezekiel patrick greer]

& I WAKE UP EVERY EVENING
WITH A BIG SMILE ON MY FACE
( and it never seems out of place )

Confronted with a warm breeze and a surge of happiness Ezekiel stood alone in the Quidditch Pitch, staring up at the boxes. No matter how many times he entered the Pitch he never lost his sense of wonderment. There was nothing better than the roar of the crowds and going head to head, toe to toe with another team. Gaze descending to fondly trace the lines of his broomstick he spared the box at his feet a fleeting glance before he took off from the ground. A sigh of contentment was lost to the wind as he barrel rolled, merely killing time until Deidre came to entertain him. He couldn't wait for the games to begin, his lips pulled upward as his broom ascended.

The air was thinner and the faintest whiff of ozone tickled his nostrils as he rolled and spiraled, his speed and agility displayed in such a way that a bystander could easily identify him as a 'natural.' It was true that he sometimes felt more at home in the air then on the ground but given his condition it was a dangerous past-time to partake in. Any moment he could suffer a seizure and fall to his death but did that made no never mind to the Greer boy, powerfully intelligent but highly stupid when it came to his health. He wanted nothing more than to be like everybody else but generally you never got what you wanted and very rarely what you asked for.

Slowly snapping out of his daydream he glances down toward the ground, an impatient sigh exploding from his lips, "Cor, I'm dyin' here."

[/center]

WORDS,, word count
TAGGED,, Open (Dei if she gets a chance.)
MUSIC,, Let It Rock by Kevin Rudolf ft. Little Wayne
NOTES,, Shitteh post, I sowwy.
TEMPLATE,, by PANIC! ITS LAUZ of CAUTION

[deirdre cayley ashe]

Dei, hair tied into a high pony tail, was rushing to the quidditch pitch. She hadn't expected her last bit of homework to take so bloody long! She had promised Ezekiel that she'd meet him and help him practice. So, after finally finishing that blasted paper for potions, she had gathered her quidditch stuff and

[/strike]ran[/strike] walked at a very brisk and purposeful pace to the pitch, knowing she was late. Not that they had set a specific time, but it was implied that it would be fairly soon. Which, in Dei's mind translated to immediately. And potions was not her strong point. She'd probably end up re-doing the assignment later. What a joyful thought.

Dei let out a sigh of relief when she finally got to her destination.The pitch had that effect on her, as she suspected for most quidditch players. The feeling of having a burden taken off her shoulders as the game began, when the balls were released and all you could focus on was your job, whether it be finding the snitch, catching or blocking the quaffel, or hitting the bludger away from your team members. Nothing else mattered. Quidditch had gotten her through one of the hardest times in her life, and it still pretty much owned her life. Her broom was probably her best friend. That was a inanimate object. It's handle was well-loved and well-taken care of.

She scanned the pitch for her practice buddy. She saw him in the air already and grinned. She kicked off. Time for the fun to begin. Ezekiel was one of her closest friends, as was natural after spending ridiculous amounts of time at practices together. She heard her mutter something about dying there as she approached him. "I certainly hope not. I'm rather attached to you. I'd be sad if you died."[/blockquote]

Notes: Sorry for the delay!
Words:Three hundred and fourteen
Outfit: Cliiiiick
Muse:Okay
Lyrics:Don't Stop Believing-Journey
Listening to:The Dropkick Murphys
Credits:To Star(Ex900705) at Caution 2.0[/size]