ready, aim, f i r e↓
teamstonem
This could all go one way or another, depending on Owen’s mood. The bulging muscles in his arms flexed at the anticipation of an oncoming bludger and his eyes glared down at the grassy pitch. It all was riding on his mood and how he had taken to the Stonem male, whether he wanted to help him or make him look like a total idiot. While the latter seemed fifty shades of entertaining, he was going to do something so out of his own character that he had to raise his eyebrows at himself; he was going to help him. He was going to make sure he did well in front of the IQA, he was going to befriend him, and then he’d have a full pass to all the fun extra-curricular activities the team got up to. There were perks to having a friend on the national Quidditch team.
The bat spun in his hand and his lips pouted out as he whistled lowly, seeming all-too-comfortable with the entire situation. No nerves came to Owen because it wasn’t his career on the line -- it wasn’t him being watched like a hawk by the people below. Though, he did have an idea that his actions were being monitored; anyone who knew anything about Quidditch was well-aware of Owen’s volatile reputation, they didn’t want their new star-player to be damaged because Owen got a little bludger-happy. There was a crack like thunder and Owen’s engraved bat made contact with his first bludger, the iron-clad ball shooting directly for Jay and shockingly enough, not for any serious body parts. He had a habit of aiming for the head or the gut. If there was one thing about the Page boy and Quidditch it was this; he never missed.
Owen could have just as well have been a seeker for how quick he moved through the air, even with a build as large and as heavy as his. He was weightless, lithe, and darted after the other bludger that had glided behind the targets. The second bludger was slammed to Jason’s direction almost as soon as the first one had.
