Thomas had left Alice with his mother because he could not allow his daughter to become a distraction from his goal. His lips twisted in frustration and he knocked rapidly on the front door of Rose Knightley's house.

He had--Thomas has reasoned that he had been very good at giving her space and privacy to figure out whatever it was that she needed to figure out. He understood privacy, he lived in it. But--but she had missed the first game of the season. That was! That was serious. The whole lineup of the Catapults was in shambles, but he only gave a damn about Rose. If she was pregnant, then yes, that was understood. Wonderful, even. Thomas had found himself excited at the idea of Alice having a cousin of sorts so close in age, if Rose was indeed pregnant.

But he didn't know. Rose had always been very quick to run to him with her problems, her concerns, her secrets. It startled him that he couldn't get a straight answer out of her and he feared that his indiscretions from last year had irrevocably ruined their friendship. Was there a lack of trust? He had been so sure that they'd rectified the damage he caused, but now he didn't know. What could be serious enough that she couldn't talk to him? He felt terrible.

His mind drifted to Brookstanton; he was the change in Rose's demeanor, Thomas knew. He had kept his distance from the relationship, but if the Kestrel was doing something to her that could cause her any sort of pain, it--it would not be pretty, Thomas could assure. He made to knock again, but the door opened. Thomas pressed his lips together.

"You missed opening weekend," he stated as he looked over Rose. She didn't appear to be dying, but that didn't stop his mind from continuing to fret that might indeed be the case.

WHO: Thomas and family!
WHAT: Portkey Terminal!
WHEN: Getting ready to leave for New York!

( I'll put a picture of your adorable face on her mobile )

Who: Haterade and Honeybadger
What: Words.
When: Monday Night (its totes monday here)
Where: Thomas' House

( Kendall didn't love Rose, he couldn't. )

Who: Thomas McCormack & Rose Knightley
What: omg they can really be precious sometimes
Where: Mungo's!
When: maybe a week or so after their thread with Kendall?

( They told each other everything, so why hadn’t Thomas told her about this? )

She had to sit down upon Holly Troy's unveiling of Thomas' last twelve hours, and Rose found that she was too far stunned to do much else than continue to sit after the story was over.

Thomas had been...

But then last night when...

And now he was...

Rose looked up at Holly with desperate eyes, wishing very much that there was more for her to tell, a better ending to leave off at for this almost unbelievable tale. It felt like fiction in her ears, the entire thing, and if this morning hadn't turned so strangely so fast, Rose wouldn't have believed it. All of it, from the idea of Thomas having a secret pregnant girlfriend to being frozen in Nott Manor as an almost stranger informed her and Kendall that their best friend was now a single father to a premature child felt... it felt...

It felt like she and Kendall were on the outside looking in to this whole other world Thomas had created for himself, and it was only through a tragic string of events that they were included now.

And then, immediately, Rose felt guilty for her thoughts, for now, out of all times, was not about that. It was about helping navigate her friend, her very best friend, through something that she could quite certainly say the three of them never thought they would have to face in their lifetimes. It was about ensuring Thomas would come back from this, helping him return to as much as his former self as possible. Was that possible? She didn't... she wasn't sure about much of anything at the moment.

Holly had escorted them to Thomas' room, and it was with a wary glance at Kendall that Rose raised her hand to knock on the door.

"Thomas?"

She spoke softly, pressing closer to the door only when there was no response. Her free arm clutched her opposite elbow, her back curled in a wounded manner. "It's us," Rose continued, her brow permanently furrowed. "May we come in?" It was entirely formal, of course, because all three of them knew she and Kendall were going to barge on in regardless of Thomas' wishes, but they always played this game.

WHO: Thomas McCormack
WHAT: His past year
WHERE: Here, there, and everywhere
WHEN: Flashbacks leading up to tonight

( That's a silly question )

She was a champion.

Holly wouldn't (and couldn't, since she was sure it was well-documented) deny that she had cried. Quidditch had been her life for so long, and to have this stretch of a career without a league cup to call her own, it was hard to deal with. Seasons were long and ehxausting, they took away all your time and energy, and to not win the cup meant that you'd just wasted the year. Sure, there were the fans, there was making personal records, and even the international circuit was fun, but Holly had needed this win so badly that she still got shivers when she thought about it. She'd done it, and she'd been the best.

She sighed, taking in the surroundings. Appleby Park had been transformed into a wonderful setting for the event, the spells on the stadium keeping the guests warm and the night sky bright above them. The league cup sat on its platform in the middle of the dance floor, looking like a glorious holy grail that she'd finally wrapped her hands around. Her husband was here somewhere, but she was lost in the sea of people. Teammates, competitors, agents, and the media, it was simply a night for the game she loved, and Holly couldn't remember a moment when she'd been happier with everything in her life.

As she made her way to the bar, she spotted one of her aforementioned teammates standing off and away from the rest of the guests. Holly, not one to ignore a teammate as she'd taken on the role this past season as, well, a mother-hen (but don't tell Theo), she couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in the back of her head.

"You're missing all the fun," she said, taking their elbow. When Holly finally got a good look at their face, she frowned, "What's wrong? It looks like you've seen a ghost."

His grin couldn't be any wider.

"I'm pretty sure she's going to beat my score," Vinny said with an extreme nod to the group of onlookers that were watching his lovely and adorable girlfriend Gleny score as many goals in the miniature hoops that were set up. Vinny had quite purposely aimed a bit far to the right as to not completely run away with the game, but Gleny was putting up a rather good fight regardless.

It was a fun day, weekend, really, of games and events that he thought were going to be a bit of a chore but had ended up being remarkably entertaining. The fans that were participating were the ones who truly loved the game and were great to have conversations with. It was a very unique way to interact with them in a way Vinny had never really gotten a chance to, and he did not feel overwhelmed in the slightest. Hosting the weekend's bigger attractions had seemed daunting, but it was going swimmingly.

Mostly in part to his, once again, lovely and adorable girlfriend who had just ended the round of Quick Quaffle with a tie score!

"Great job!" Vinny said with honest excitement as he happily hugged Gleny in celebration. Merlin, quidditch and his girl, what more could a bloke ask for?




OOC: Click here for ideas of what could be going on at Falmouth Stadium! These fun days dated from the 27th - 31st! List of Teams!

Charlie was literally bouncing around like a school kid. How was he so keen on the ways of excited, shriek-filled Hogwarts students? Why, he was surrounded by a gaggle of them! Bouncing, the lot of them, and all donned in red and gold! It was a beautiful sight, really, and it made the slightly overcast day seem bright and sunny and warm. He wanted to hug each and every one of those kids, so he did and it was a good feeling to be recognized as some 'Gryffindor Hero!' A Gryffindor Hero! Legend, some were saying. Some teeny, tiny voice in the back of Charlie's head knew that legend, even hero was pushing it a bit far, but he would happily accept the compliments because they made him feel damn special.

He hadn't been much of a standout in school, popular enough not to lurk around the corridors without anyone noticing you were there, but he was no quidditch captain or head boy. He was just Charlie, and even if his quidditch fame and popularity had skyrocketed these past few years, he was still very much in awe of the fact that people could be impressed by him.

"All right, all right!" he laughed, prying off the clamped fingers of a young third year girl's off his arm. "I'll be back, I promise!"

There was a chorus of moans, but soon the group had spotted yet another player to lay their tremendous excitement and focus on, and Charlie was free. He bounded down the pavement, Gryffindor scarf proudly flapping in the wind behind him, and dropped down onto a wooden bench beside his very Hufflepuff-y girlfriend.

"The kids," he said, waving his hand out toward the crowd before dropping it down onto the back of the bench behind Penelope, "They dig me."

He blinked up at the ceiling of the hospital room, arms lifted over his head as the nurse examined his slowly healing wound. She was making some idle chatter about how good it was looking, and how he'd regained so much color back in his cheeks, and just how strong he was! Thomas rolled his eyes in plain sight of the woman, and he was glad that she'd taken slight offense to it and opted to finish tidying up his bandages and pulling his shirt back down. Thomas' crossed his arms over his chest as soon as the examination was done and rolled to his side, away from the open doorway.

As much as he was physically feeling better, he was still mentally exhausted. His parents had been hovering nonstop, his sister had managed to release a statement about how she was doing, and the long nights alone had let his thoughts wander, and wander, and wander.

A knock on the door startled him before his thoughts could trail off like they had been, and he peered over his shoulder to tell the nurse to leave him be, but was surprised to see that it wasn't the handsy nurse, or his parents. He turned over completely and gingerly pushed himself up on his elbows.

"Hey," he said, surprised.


( ...but she felt... fine. )



ooc: so apparently Thomas and Saoirse are popular people and instead of flooding the comm with a million threads, Emma came up with the idea of a 'group' post of sorts where the two can have various threads with whoever wants to visit.

Their plan to escape had been in motion since they'd been shoved into the muggle vehicle that drove them away from the scene. A big white van with no windows had stopped them from figuring out their initial surroundings, but that hadn't been a deterrent for two highly on guard, intelligent victims. Thomas had silently counted the stops they'd made, making a map of the turns in his head while Saoirse had determined the length of the car ride. They took every chance to manage a look at their surroundings and had gathered that they were near a church, from the smell of the place there was a bakery near by, and lots of muggle traffic.

These criminals had really decided on the wrong set of people to take hostage.

It had quickly been determined that they were muggles, squibs. They knew about Thomas and Saoirse's fame but they tied their hands up with muggle binds and locked their door with a key that rested on a ring with at least twenty different keys. They were being fed, but the wound from the knife on Thomas' side had been crudely sewn up with, once again, muggle tools. It had quickly become evident that the gash was infected, and on this third full day of capture, Thomas was feeling like death.

But tonight they were going to escape, so he had to deal with the pain for at least another fifteen minutes.

He shut his eyes, taking in deep breaths as the jingle of the keys came closer down the corridor from outside. He needed to look as if he was on the brink of death for this to work fully to their advantage, and it wasn't a hard thing to accomplish. Thomas laid slumped in the far corner of the room, knowing that Saoirse could handle her own while he drew the attention of their captor. They had devised enough of a plot to escape and it was all determined by if this bloke with the keys was stupid enough to turn his back to Saoirse. The door opened and a stream of light draped over his form.

"Oy, what the hell's wrong with him?"

WHO: Saoirse Mullet and Thomas McCormack
WHAT: Emma and Cristina are terrible people
WHERE: Some street. Some lonely, empty street.
WHEN: TODAY?

( We have to go with them. )

Thomas twisted the broken piece of wood between his fingers, having been unable to put it away since it had arrived in the post. He spun the familiar handle in his hand, the grooves and curves bringing back memories good and bad: the smell of Ollivander's shop and the surprise at how easily the wand had chosen him and the vague, blurry memory of the wand being snapped, the crack reverberating between his ears. Thomas had thought this wand had been lost forever, but to have it back in his possession once more was not a fortunate thing. Whoever had taken the wand in the first place was sending him a message, and he didn't like it one bit.

"What are you making?" Thomas asked without much of a question in his tone as he entered his kitchen. Kendall was preparing what he assumed was dinner, but Thomas kept his gaze down as he pulled open a clutter drawer (that wasn't particularly cluttered, as he couldn't stand a mess) and placed the wand into it. He'd held onto the wand tightly since it had arrived, but not in the presence of his friend. He still wasn't sure what to do with the entire situation; would telling people about it make it worse or would simply ignoring it cause it to go away?

He slid onto a stool at the end of the kitchen island, lifting his chin to try and get a look at what was being stirred in the saucepan. "That doesn't smell healthy."

He held the omnioculars up at a nearly ninety degree angle to get a full, vivid view of the top of the waterfall they stood at the base of. He and Rose had emerged before sunrise to walk this trail of natural wonders of Istanbul and its surrounding area, and Thomas was making sure to soak it all in. The sun was only just beginning to rise above the high trees, creating a sparkling morning mist. It should be cold, especially near the water, but the magical community had taken this area as their own; the waterfall was physically untouched, but the water was charmed to the perfect temperature for a quick swim.

Or at least, that’s what the plaque said on their last checkpoint.

“How high do you think that is?” Thomas said as he continued to look through the treetops, his glove a slight hindrance to his hold. He was dressed head to toe in warm clothes, a woolly hat snug on his head, though he was beginning to regret it as the hike was building up a slight sweat. It felt good, though, to be exerting energy into something other than quidditch and running away from crazy ex-girlfriends.

The fresh air seemed to be rejuvenating, and Thomas actually found himself smiling at the sheer beauty of nature---when was the last time he'd literally just taken a walk through the park? This was a thousand times larger and much wilder than the park by his flat, but the sentiment was there. His mind needed the time to clear itself, and he could always count on Rose for a quiet, thought-provoking time.