Marcus Flint (flinted) wrote in occultus,
@ 2011-12-02 23:12:00

Entry tags:

char: dominic montague, char: fred weasley, char: george weasley, char: jonathon chambers, char: marcus flint, char: oliver wood, char: weasley twins

Who: Falmouth vs Puddlemere
What: Quidditch happenings
Where: Puddlmere Stadium/St. Mungo's
When: 3 December
Rating: Gen
Status: Complete

He could hear the bludger faintly over the sound of the crowd, but it seemed distant. Zigzagging just to be sure Marcus raced towards goal, passing off to Min and then racing forward to catch the pass on. It was a move they'd practiced a lot, utilizing all three Chasers in a spiraling v. It was one of the newer plays that had given them such an advantage in their previous matches; the ones he'd been Captain for anyway. He caught sight of his cousin in his peripheral vision and readied the the final pass, shifting his weight, he released the ball, lobbing it to Min just as something smashed into his side.

The pain was instant and intense enough for his vision to grey alarmingly. He tried to hang on, to keep his balance but the force of the blow already had him half off the broom and he was holding on with one arm. Two things registered in his brain. One, Dominic had a clear shot on goal and would definitely score. Two, he couldn't really breathe properly. Why couldn't he breathe? Something had snapped when the bludger had hit, he'd felt it go, a rib or two most probably. He tried to gasp down as much air as he could, whilst at the same time struggling to right himself on the broom.

He knew he was slipping and if he fell; he glanced down, well there would be a mess. Gritting his teeth, he tried one last time to haul himself back upright onto the broom, raising his right arm (the one on the injured side) to catch hold of the broom. It was too much, a searing pain burned through his chest and he blacked out completely, brain deciding that it didn't want to register anymore of that agony.

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ollypop
2011-12-03 03:03 pm UTC (link)

Oliver flew back and forth across the goals, his eyes on the game before him. The quaffle was currently down the other side of the pitch and despite him not being captain he was calling out moves to the chasers. The captain of the team seemed to have lost his voice, or at least didn't have the balls to order the team around, something that annoyed Oliver to no end. They got on well enough but Oliver would take his place in a heartbeat if he could.

Seeing the chaser's lose the quaffle to the falcons chasers Oliver swore, glad the noise of the crowd would drown it out. Oliver flew backwards a little, making him closer to the rings he was guarding, eyes on the quaffle as it was passed between chasers.

Not having seen the previous Falcons matches, Oliver was unsure of the move they were using. His eyes were briefly draw to the right as a bludger flew by. He saw one of his team mates flying after it and knew not to worry.

Turning once more Oliver watched Flint throw the quaffle to Montague just seconds before being hit by a bludger. Despite the crowd he heard the crack of something breaking. He knew George was in the crowd and would be worrying about the now injured man before him. Looking back at the chaser with the quaffle Oliver went on the deffensive until he heard gasps coming from the crowd.

Looking back over at where Flint had been, Oliver saw him falling and without thinking he leant low on his broom and shot towards the falling mass of grey. Lunging forward as they grew closer to the floor Oliver grabbed at Flint's foot, it being the closest thing to him, Jarring his shoulder at the same time, although he didn't have time to worry about that as the ground was fast approaching.

The motion he was travelling with was much to fast and the action of grabbing Flint's foot made his grip on the broom falter, that mixing with Flint's weight made Oliver slip from his broom, both players now heading for the ground. He tried to lessen Flint's impact, knowing he was already injured and couldn't help the scream as he contacted with the cold ground with one shoulder.

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gredilicious
2011-12-03 06:53 pm UTC (link)

The game was close, just as George knew it would be when Puddlemere versed the Falcons. It was close last time too. Neither team wanting to lose to the other - like most games - but this one was more intense because a sort of rivalry had been building between the teams. At least, that was the way the media had spun it.

George was a little torn between loyalties of which team to cheer for, so he opted not to wear any merchandise from either team and wear is old Gryffindor Quidditch robes (minus the padding underneath that Beaters generally wore). He was a little surprised the school robes still fit as he was sure he had put on weight since 'retiring' from the sport - but they did and it felt good to be wearing a part of his old kit again. Perhaps he and Fred should come out of retirement - maybe not to play professionally but do a one time only match or something. He didn't know - he just had the urge to jump on a broom and fly now he was wearing his uniform again.

Seeing the Falcons get the Quaffle off the Puddlemere Chasers, George let out a little bark of laughter and nudged his Twin, who was sitting beside him. He didn't bother saying anything because he knew the words would be lost in the crowd of cheers and chants for defense. He recognised the Falcons play, remembering the Slytherins adopting a similar strategy in school. He supposed, with two out of three Chasers being Slytherins a few of the old school plays were bound to creep into the Falcons' game.

Being a Beater, he knew that the best way to stop the Falcon Chasers from scoring was to knock one of them out with a Bludger. It still didn't stop his eyes from widening when one smacked into Marcus. He knew the Chaser was tough and would be able to just shake it off easily but something was not right. Marcus wasn't stable on his broom and George's hand automatically darted next to him for his Twin's when he saw the Chaser fall.

George felt helpless as he watched the scene play out before him. Squeezing Fred's hand as he saw Oliver dart out from the goal posts and try to stop Marcus from meeting a messy end as the Chaser fell. "No," his mouthed, no sound coming out. It was a part of the game George hated - the injuries - especially when it was people he cared about.

He winced when the pair of players hit the ground, all eyes in the stadium locked on the Chaser and the Keeper. emergency medical crews ran onto the pitch to treat the injured players and the game above paused. Montague still had the Quaffle and no one looked game enough to take it off the newest Falcon as he watched the crews treat his cousin. Mustering up his own Captain voice, Montague took charge of the Falcons like he took over for Marcus once his older cousin had left school. He called an official time out, otherwise game play should have continued despite the injured parties on the ground below.

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forgeous
2011-12-03 07:47 pm UTC (link)

One second Flint was heading for goal, the next he was falling. Fred's hand closed round his Twin's and he glanced at George, knowing his little Gred would be worried. Finger tightening on his made him look back towards the pitch and he frowned as he saw Oliver leaving the hoops in an attempt to save Marcus.

That was perhaps the most unexpected event of the match. Why would Oliver care what happened to Flint? They were rivals, yes, they may have called a truce in recent months. But Olly hadn't even hinted that he actually liked the Falcon. It was almost with detachment that he watched the two figures falling, certain that someone on the team benches would call out a spell to slow their descent.

It was only when they slammed into the earth that Fred reacted. Eyes widening in shock as neither Olly or Marcus moved. 'Come on.' He was on his feet, tugging gently on George's hand. 'They'll take them to Mungo's.'

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gredilicious
2011-12-03 08:48 pm UTC (link)

George's eyes didn't leave the pitch, hoping to see Marcus and Oliver move. Just some indication that they were okay. The tug at his hand pulled George out of his almost trance like state and blue eyes focused on those identical to his own. He stood and nodded, letting Fred take the lead in this situation.

"Take them to Mungo's." He murmured softly, parroting and letting the words sink in. He bit his lip and looked back out on the pitch for a moment before back to Fred. "You apparate?" He asked, moving closer to his Twin, ignoring the crowd around who were all peering at the pitch, trying to see what was going on.

He wasn't a hundred per cent sure whether they'd be let in. After all, they weren't family and surely St. Mungo's had some sort of rules in place for when famous people got hurt so crazy fans couldn't just waltz in. George drew his bottom lip between his teeth and held Fred's hand just that little bit tighter, knowing his Twin was sense his anxiety over the matter.

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forgeous
2011-12-03 09:37 pm UTC (link)

As his eyes were met by his Twin's Fred felt his anxiety spike, knowing it was Gred's feelings that were fueling his own. He nodded as his little Twin repeated his words and slipped his arms around George when he stepped closer. Pushing down his own worry, he concentrated on bringing the entrance to the hospital into sharp focus and disapparated them both.

Seconds later, they stood outside the Muggle shop facade and Forge took hold of his Twin's hand again. For once initiating the contact that he knew his Gred needed. Stepping through the glass, he glanced round at the quiet reception area. Obviously the players hadn't arrived yet. 'They'll be okay.' He said softly, his own feelings slowly breaking through the automatic barrier he'd put up as soon as he'd seen Oliver fall.

His spare hand moved to rough through his hair, uncertain of his own words and of what to do next. 'We should wait here, maybe?'

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gredilicious
2011-12-03 10:44 pm UTC (link)

As Fred slipped his arms around him, George felt a little more stable. His Twin's presence always seemed to have that affect on him. He was still worried but knowing Fred was there helped anchor him and made him more focused. He closed his eyes as they apparated, trying to push the worry aside, opening them again once they were at St. Mungo's.

George just nodded at the soft words, knowing them to be true. He didn't know the extent of the damage both players took but guessed it was pretty bad. "Wait here." He parroted a little, looking over to the welcome desk. Tig wasn't working, the old woman that sat there looked up in a bored manner at the Twins and then back down to her paperwork.

"No Tig." He murmured softly, a brief look of disappointment on his face. Tig would have been a welcoming distraction rather than the quiet cranky old woman who probably wouldn't let them in.

There was a bustling in the back signalling the players arrival through an emergency entrance that skipped past the main entrance for regular patients. One of the perks of being famous, George guessed - no waiting to get healed up. The woman behind the reception desk grabbed the new files that magically appeared on her desk - one with Marcus' name and one with Oliver's - and moved them to trays labelled with the appropriate wards for their injuries.

George nudged Fred, unsure of what to do next. He fell easily into the role of follower around his Twin - the only person he'd obey without putting up a fuss.

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forgeous
2011-12-04 12:14 pm UTC (link)

Pulling George into another hug, he stroked his Twin's hair, leaning his head against his brother's for a moment. 'No Tig, but we'll get back there. Promise.'

Hearing a commotion through the back, Fred's attention snapped to the Healers. He just caught a glimpse of bright blue robes before doors closed behind them. A little nudge caught his attention again and he nodded. 'Right.' His voice was determined and he released his hold on George to stride over to the welcome desk.

'Excuse me,' his polite voice was impeccable, as always. 'My Twin, Fred Weasley, is on Oliver Wood's next of kin list. Is there any chance he could go back and see Oliver? There was an accident at the match.' He watched as the woman checked his story and very reluctantly nodded. 'Could I go with him?' The witch scowled, but again nodded. 'Only as far as the ward door.'

Thanking her, he went and collected his Twin, 'right Fred, you're allowed up and in to see Oliver. I'll be right outside okay?'

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gredilicious
2011-12-04 06:21 pm UTC (link)

George nodded at Fred's promise, leaning his head forward against his Twin's with a tiny soft headbutt. It was moments like this George was so thankful he was a Twin. He didn't have to say anything and Fred just knew what sort of comfort he needed.

His eyes followed Fred's path to the desk but remain where he was, shuffling his feet a little. He listen to Fred quietly, a little frown marring his features which asked what was his brother playing at. George's mind was too much of a jumble to work it out.

"See Oliver." He parroted again, the pieces slowly clicking into place. His eyes met his Twin's with small glance, using their weird silent way of communicating to say thanks.

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