Training Day -
Beckett Longbottom - April 10, 2020
April 10th, 1890 - Padmore Park, morning
@"Helga Scamander"
Less than twenty-four hours after the roster was announced and Beck was training. He already suited up often with the team to show them a thing or two and kept in shape out of pure pride, but he knew he was going to have to really hit it hard to be in peak condition to show up and make this position count. The shoulder injury that had prevented him from trying out last time was a thing of the past and Beck swore he would make good on this go around.
He wasn't usually an early riser and it still wasn't even that early, but fuck Fitz and his recommendation to get back into better shape. Asshole cousin. What a twat. It had been a while since he'd gone for a run, but to pick up that stamina he best get back to it.
The park was the easiest choice and he'd sauntered down there as a warm up, picking up the pace as he neared the paths that would lead him down to the lake. There was no way he could go all the way around, too fucking big, but eventually. The pace was good, he could still breath, so there was that too, just a good run to get the day going before he hit the pitch.
Or so he thought.
Not even ten minutes into his run he came by a familiar face, seemingly in distrses. "Miss Scamander?" He asked, slowing down to see if everything was alright.
RE: Training Day -
Helga Crouch - April 12, 2020
There were very few things that could reasonably go wrong on a morning stroll, yet somehow Helga managed to fall victim to one every now and then. Twisted ankles seemed to be a commonality—as her mother had reasoned, Helga had never been inclined towards serious exercise—but she could hardly explain how she managed to get stuck. She was unlucky, certainly, but not clumsy! Even more embarrassingly, this was not the first time that a passing stranger had stopped to help her.
And not the first time that person had been Mr. Beckett Longbottom.
Cheeks already pink from minutes of trying to tug her ankle out of a narrow root, Helga's face looked as red as a beet when she noticed it was him—in all his handsome (and... sweating?) glory—who had asked her if she was well. Mr. Longbottom would not be daft enough to believe all was well, but he would be kind enough, she believed, not to make her feel silly. She could lie and make excuses all she wanted, but the picture was clear as day: her foot was stuck. In a root. In the ground.
"I'm afraid not," she admitted in defeat. "I have my foot in a root." She opened her mouth to poke fun at herself, to say something along the lines that she wasn't always getting into trouble and that only he happened to be there when she did so, but the words died on her tongue.
"It's either an enchanted root, or a stubborn one. The dirt collapsed while I was on my way to look at the pond," she lamented. She gave a gentle tug of her leg to demonstrate, and, like all the times before, it refused to budge. Helga looked up at him through heavy lashes and gave a small frown. "I think I might have twisted something, too."
RE: Training Day -
Beckett Longbottom - April 24, 2020
"Quite the streak of bad luck you have, my dear." Beckett chided, clearly teasing as he moved closer, bending down to examine the offending root. "Or perhaps lucky as we keep running into one another this way?" He smiled playfully at her, every the tease. If there was one thing Beckett was good at (besides quidditch) it was flirting. Plus this seemed like a chance to lighten the mood.
Edging closer, he looked around, seeing if he could find the source of the root, but perhaps she just didn't have enough leverage from her position to fix the problem. Not to mention if she felt it twisted, it was probably highly uncomfortable. "Let's see about getting you out of here then." He suggested, giving the root a tentative tug, only to find it resolutely stuck in place. "Enchanted indeed." Becks refused to believe he wasn't strong enough to move it himself if it wasn't magically enhanced. Now just what kind of tree were they dealing with here...
Moving in again, he wrapped both hands around the root on either side of her ankle, and gave a good upward yank.
RE: Training Day -
Helga Crouch - April 24, 2020
Bad luck indeed. Why was it always she who ended up in precarious situations when the most eligible of men were around? Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, though, so Helga was not about to let Mr. Longbottom's teasing put a damper on things. She still had to keep herself looking pretty and poised, of course, lest she really embarrass herself!
(Besides, she couldn't deny that she found his fliratious tone... refreshing, to say the least.)
"It must be fate," she said smugly, hiding a smile as she glanced down at the root. She watched him closely as he tried to tug at the root, her cheeks tinting pink at the sight of his muscles through his shirt. She needed to stop, and quickly. It didn't take long for him to confirm the suspicion that the root was enchanted, leaving them with two options: they could try to yank it, or they could try and magic it away.
He chose option one.
She isntinctively pushed her skirt down to cover her ankle as he grasped at the root, but she was nearly positive she only made things worse. It would not budge—in fact, it seemed to grow tighter at the first hint of force. Helga let out a whimper and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's not going to budge," she said, trying (and failing) to wiggle her ankle. It only made the pain worst, but, as she reminded herself, she had to persist.
"Do you have a wand on you?" she asked, because she did not.
RE: Training Day -
Beckett Longbottom - April 29, 2020
Well, this was certainly not going to be easy. He pulled a bit more on it, but it wouldn't budge and he had to admit it was quite the blow to his self esteem. He was training for world cup quidditch and couldn't pull a root! Clearly he needed to start lifting more weights.
Miss Scamander's completely innocent would have caused him to chuckle around his mates, but he somehow managed to keep a straight face. Leaning back, he gave her a bit of space, but shook his head. "'Fraid not, Cherie, I don't bring it with me when I go for a run." Unlike his current company, he did not often find himself in precarious positions that require magical release. "Do you?" It would be quite interesting if she didn't. He might be running for help in the near future.
RE: Training Day -
Helga Crouch - May 9, 2020
Helga was (admittedly) pleased when the root didn't budge. In a way, it meant she would have more time with Mr. Longbottom before he continued on his jog, but at the same time she was left with the possibility of being stuck here. He had no wand, she had no wand, and there was nobody within earshot. How embarrassing would it be if he had to call someone to come help her? There would be no tale of heroism, no grand thank yous—nothing!
"I do not," she said, the guilt evident in her tone. She didn't usually bring her wand unless she'd planned something inherently magical. All she had was her coin purse and her outfit.
"Wait!" she said suddenly, moving her hands to her hair where she began fishing for something. She pulled out a sharp pin a moment later that was nearly the length of a needle and at least twice as thick. It had a pointy end that she imaged could be use to cut it (if not just scare it away). "My hair pin. It's sharp," she explained, presenting it to him with an open palm. She felt the heat rise on her cheeks as a strand of hair fell away from her bun as a result. Hopefully they could get her out of this before she lost her updo completely!
RE: Training Day -
Beckett Longbottom - June 14, 2020
"What a pair we are, always in a conundrum without a way to solve it." The irony was not lost on Beckett, but he was highly amused by it nevertheless. Trying to think of another solution it seemed that Miss Scamander beat him to a possibility.
Humming out a noise of approval, Beckett carefully took the pin from her hands and inspected it carefully. It wasn't exactly a knife, but it was sharp, perhaps he could at least puncture the vine and start pulling it apart. "Very resourceful, look at you." He passed her a charming smile and a wink as he took a piece of vine between his fingers higher up from her ankle. If he could at least get it to come off, he could likely somehow unwind it from its current hold.
Between her exposed ankle and her loose hair, Beckett better get to work quickly before he was accused of something quite sinister! "I trust you'll vouch for my good intentions if we're happened upon by some unsuspecting passerby?" He was teasing- mosly.
RE: Training Day -
Helga Crouch - June 21, 2020
Merlin, he was such a flirt! She tried to give him a stern look, but she was unable to stop her lips from slipping into a shy, dimpled smile. She briefly wondered how many girls he charmed on a daily basis; surely his looks were enough on their own to earn him smiles wherever he went! After allowing him to take the pin, Helga went to work trying to keep her updo from falling apart altogether. Having a man with his hand on her leg was bad enough!
"I will protect your honor if you protect mine," she teased in return. The pin was sharp, but it would take more work than a pocketknife or letter cutter. Hopefully Mr. Longbottom was as skilled with his hands as he was with a beater's bat!
RE: Training Day -
Beckett Longbottom - June 21, 2020
"Deal," Beckett chuckled as he made some progress on the vine using the hairpin. It was quite the surprise that the things ladies used to hold up their hair was quite so sharp. It wasn't a knife and it was slow going but he would have her out after a few more moments.
"You could kill somebody with this, are there any other dangerous, hidden lady secrets I should be aware of when I'm being obnoxious at social events?" He was only half-kidding. Beckett might mind his manners a bit more if he knew the debutantes were packing such harmful items on their person! Becks continued to work on the vine, chancing a glance at Miss Scamander while he waited for her answer.
RE: Training Day -
Helga Crouch - June 21, 2020
There was no use for her hair. Just messing with it made another few strands drop, and with the extra weight came more hair falling loose from the pins. She caught Mr. Longbottom stealing a glance and pretended to try and tame her hair. She wondered if he preferred blondes or brunettes—or Merlin forbid, redheads!
“I wouldn’t mess with our shoes,” she said honestly. “The heels can be sharp if you aren’t careful.” The shoes, the hairpins, and whatever ornaments a woman wore on her dress: they could all be rather dangerous, couldn’t they? She smiled and dug her heel into the ground next to his hand.
RE: Training Day -
Beckett Longbottom - June 21, 2020
Clearly amused, Beckett was learning quite a bit this morning. "It seems I have underestimated the young ladies in my life. With a plethora of sisters, you would think I would know better, but alas they have kept me in the dark." Truthfully, being surrounded by sisters was the best excuse. He'd never wanted to be part of whatever it was they had to go through as children. He was very much at a higher level of liberty than they were and he took full advantage.
Finally Beckett felt the satisfactory snap of the vine breaking completely and he chuckled in triumph. "Well, fancy that." Carefully he wiped down the pin with his shirt and handed it back to Miss Scamander before he moved to unwrap the vine from her ankle.
RE: Training Day -
Helga Crouch - June 21, 2020
His sisters. How many of them did he have again? Helga has always tried to keep track of everyone important in society so she wouldn't forget their names and faces if she met them at a party. Mr. Longbottom had Mrs. Mulciber, Mrs. Bones, Mrs... oh, there were a few more. (She'd ask Nora about it later if she couldn't remember.)
Distracted, she hardly noticed when the vine came loose, and as Mr. Longbottom began to unwrap her ankle, she lost her balance. "Oof!" she gasped, her bottom hitting the ground before she could realize what'd happened. Her hair completely fell loose, and her eyes widened. How embarrassing!
RE: Training Day -
Beckett Longbottom - June 21, 2020
"Ah bollocks!" Miss Scamander went down just as Beckett straightened himself back up and back down he went right after her. "My apologies, I should have warned you!" He offered both of his hands to haul her up off the ground.
"Alright there? No long lasting damage? Please don't take the hairpin to me." He was teasing of course, but honestly he was a little scared of the things now. "I trust neither one of us will leave the house without a wand after this." Becks had certainly learned his lesson!
RE: Training Day -
Helga Crouch - June 21, 2020
Helga grabbed Mr. Longbottom's hands and allowed herself to be pulled up, the embarrassment being quickly replaced by satisfaction. She was no harlot, but she couldn't help but think of how the light touches might make Mr. Longbottom remember her long after they parted ways. Besides, he was her hero—or at least that's what she'd tell everyone.
"No lasting damage, Mr. Longbottom," she said warmly, giving him a sweet smile. That's how he needed to remember her... but maybe not with her hair everywhere. She did her best to fix her hair, sticking the hairpin through a makeshift bun. Fashion be damned, but propriety must remain. "No walks without wands from now on. Who would've thought something this troublesome would be lurking under our feet!"
RE: Training Day -
Beckett Longbottom - July 7, 2020
"Delighted to hear it, Miss Scamander." He was too, not that he would have shied away from continuing to play the white knight and carry her wherever she needed to go, he did not, in fact, think it was a great idea, purely for reputation's sake. Otherwise he kind of liked th enotion.
Brushing the dirt from his pants, Becks looked around quickly. "Shall I escort you back to your chaperon, so as to avoid any other mishaps?" He offered instead because it was clearly the more reasonable choice. Plus he was starting to wonder if Miss Scamander should be left to her own devices here in the park.
RE: Training Day -
Helga Crouch - July 7, 2020
As much as she wished to squeeze a few more minutes out of this very eventful interaction, Helga only knew what her mother would say if she was seen with her hair tousled, shoes dirtied, and skirt ruffled while she walked alongside Mr. Longbottom. She could only assume what everyone else would think, too, because they wouldn't know why she looked so disheveled!
She took a step forward and was dismayed—and admittedly daunted—by the stinging pain she felt in her ankle. She would have to navigate back to High Street in her heel-toed shoe without something to hold onto (and then she'd have to bear her mother's berating for the next hour). Oh well.
"I will be fine," she said, with a little more confidence than she felt. She smiled coyly at Mr. Longbottom, knowing that she'd find a time and place to see him again. Perhaps she'd talk to Nora and see what events she could get into... "I hope the next time we meet it will be under less distressing circumstances?"