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Post by sasha nicole clearwater on Dec 12, 2011 21:09:54 GMT -5
Sasha Clearwater has spent the day alone planning her trip back to Russia for the winter. Going to Russia during the winter? One who didn't know her would think she was completely insane, off her rocker. Isn't it cold enough in England? Yes, but the cold weather didn't bother the werewolf, in fact, she enjoyed it. She could honestly live in the wilderness alone by herself forever, though Sash was pretty popular in the pack that she ran with. The men obviously wanted to get with her, but seriously, every rose has it's thorns. Most of them weren't going to get there way. There was only one or two of them that met the girl's standards. Being out in the wilderness meant that she couldn't hurt any humans, well, except for the occasional poacher, but they should have seen it coming. After all, they were hunting in territory clearly marked by wolves. Even when the occasional innocent bystander disappeared there wasn't too much of an uprising in the nearby town. Sasha was aware when things like that happened, when she committed such crimes, but when she is in her wolf skin all of her human judgement seemed to vanish into thin air. When she's wake up, she would be sore as hell, her energy was drained and she was all scratched up as if she had just gotten into the most intense bar fight of her twenty-two year old life. It was as if whatever happened was a dream, like a figment of her own imagination or a bad high. She would just wake up and continue her life as if nothing had ever happened.
Sasha walked along the streets of the wizarding world with a cigarette dangling from her full, pink lips; her high heels clicked along the sidewalk. The atmosphere around her was dark, but lively, the time of gray area between day life and the emerging night life. Lights from neon signs flashed all around her, illuminating her skin in various shades and colors. The girl was going out for a drink, or a few. There was no full moon and nothing to hold her back. She was going to dance with strangers until her legs felt weak or drink until those dancers were strangers. Entering the club without a problem, she ordered a fruity, vodka-filled drink and then walked out onto the dance floor alone. Well, she would be alone until someone gathered up the courage to dance with a pro quidditch player. Hell, you didn't even have to talk to her, just latch on and their motions would do the talking for them.
outfit: clicky?
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Post by salvatore on Dec 29, 2011 17:20:47 GMT -5
Salvatore didn't go out all too often, but there were nights when his buddies were able to convince him that it would be a good idea to go out on the town for awhile. Admittedly, he rather liked the club scene some nights. He wasn't there to hook up with anyone, he wasn't there to get drunk, he was just there to goof around with his mates and have a good time dancing around with whoever he stumbled into. As a professional Quidditch player, he frequently found people that knew him and wanted to talk or dance or whatever, so he rarely had a hard time when he went out. There was always someone that would give him a dance or two while he was there and he loved the attention. He also loved that he didn't have to wait in very many lines at the clubs, since he was popular enough that most of the bouncers knew to just let him in and not worry about any identification or what have you.
Walking down the street towards Club Envy with some of his boys from back in school, the group of them were laughing and joking around with each other. Nearing the opening to the place, Sal took the lead and waved his hand towards the bouncer, who happily let the group in without much trouble at all. Bouncing into the club with an eager grin, Sal was already excited about the night. Following his mates up towards the bar, Sal simply ordered himself a soda. He wasn't really a drinker, only having a glass of wine with dinner now and again, so he didn't want to get too wasted or anything like that and end up making a fool of himself. So, Sal left his mates to the bar to get liquored up and headed over to the dance floor to get his night started. Perhaps it made him slightly lame, but Sal didn't really care. He was out to have a good time his way and if his friends wanted to poke fun that he wasn't interested in drinking, that was their deal.
Weaving his way amongst the people, Sal found his way down to the dance floor with an excited jig. He looked like a goofus, but that was fine by him. Looking around at the different people dancing, Sal's eyes lit up a bit when he saw a familiar face a few people away. Though he didn't know Sasha all too well, they were only a year apart and both played Quidditch. True, she had been a Slytherin, while he was a Ravenclaw, but that had never really made a difference to Sal. Swerving over to where Sasha was dancing, he fell into rhythm with her with a quick wink. "Well, hello there Sasha. Haven't seen you in awhile," he commented as he twisted around with the music. A bit of innocent dancing with a fellow Quidditch player certainly wasn't a bad way to spend at least part of his evening, so perhaps it wasn't too bad that he'd agreed to go out with his friends.
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Post by sasha nicole clearwater on Dec 30, 2011 21:01:42 GMT -5
Sasha Clearwater danced, drink balanced in hand. Fans approached her and she spoke with them briefly. She was the kind of player that would chill outback with some of them. The girl was pretty nice, maybe a bit bitchy at times, but hey, who could really blame her? She was constantly being followed around, people snooped around in her business. On the pitch, she was the first one to get a card from the referee because she shoved you off your broom. It was how her dad taught her to play. Despite his reputation, the Greyback hung around her and her mother for a while, at least long enough to produce a second child and send her mother to St. Mungo’s Psych Ward. Whatever. He was long gone by now and far away from her mother and little brother.
Over the years, Sasha had mastered the skill of being able to dance and drink at the same time. No matter how fast or how rough she danced, not one drop of her alcohol would hit the floor. It was pretty impressive. The girl’s blue eyes wandered the room, lights flashing, hands waving, heads bopping around. It was just like being at a quidditch match. A familiar face appeared in front of her and spoke. Sash smiled, “Oh hey, Salvatore,” she hoped he could hear her voice over the music. The two of them weren’t too close, in fact, she was surprised that she even remembered his name after all those years. The guy was dancing sort of weird, she furrowed her eyebrows slightly. Why wasn’t he dancing on her yet? That was a bit awkward. “How’ve you been?” she spoke, hoping he would catch on soon.
outfit: clicky?
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Post by salvatore on Dec 31, 2011 19:33:53 GMT -5
The fact that Sasha both remembered him and didn't seem to mind his being there made Salvatore feel quite a bit more comfortable. He knew that she was a former Slytherin and he also knew how they could be sometimes. The last thing he wanted was to overstep his welcome there and piss her off. If he wasn't mistaken, she was also a werewolf and they had a tendency to get angry if someone pushed their buttons. It was pretty difficult to hear her in the club, so he moved in closer, sliding an arm around her waist and falling into rhythm with her. He didn't often dance with a multitude of women, but he didn't think there was really any problem with it. Technically, he was single, so it wasn't like he was doing anything wrong just by dancing with her. He hoped. It wasn't like he intended to let it go anywhere other than just dancing and conversation, so there was nothing wrong with that.
Sometimes it was necessary for Salvatore to continuously remind himself that he was, in fact, single and not actually dating Cherry. Nor was he engaged to her. Yet. Hell, he didn't even know if he actually would be. At the very least, he knew his mother would have a field day if she caught wind that he was out at a club and dancing quite closely with another woman. It was a good thing he hadn't yet seen any press there to cover the evening. "I've been well, thanks," he nodded, giving her another smile as they continued to dance along to the beat of the music. The song had changed to one with a lot more bass, making it easier to sink into a normal rhythm with Sasha. "How about you? You had a good match the other day," he commented, referring to the Harpies last game against the Arrows.
Even though they didn't play for the same team, Salvatore had never really been the kind of guy to hold team rivalries against anyone. In the end, they were all just a bunch of Quidditch players and it didn't matter which team they played for. They all loved what they did and you had to respect the others for their game, even if you lost sometimes. The Harpies and the Tornadoes hadn't yet played that season, which probably made it a lot easier for the two of them to have a casual conversation, but they'd played in the past against each other. Both teams had their share of wins and losses against each other, Salvatore was pretty certain. There were a lot of good teams in the league, which made it all the more exciting to be a part of it.
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Post by sasha nicole clearwater on Jan 2, 2012 16:42:06 GMT -5
Ah, good. This boy was quick to catch on to what she wanted. His hand slithered around her waist and soon enough they were dancing for real. In an attempt to make small talk, she asked him how he was doing. In this situation things could get awkward very quickly. They were both quidditch players that played professionally for different teams. In the past they played quite a few games against them. The Tornadoes were equal competition, a good challenge for the Harpies. But Sasha wasn’t a very good loser. She has always been easily angered after games that they had lost, even just looking at her the wrong way would send her off on a violent rampage. She had a pretty bad reputation when it came to that. It was because she was hard on herself. If people said that was the best game that she had ever played, she would ask herself how she could have possibly done better. If they lost, it was all her fault. No one else had anything to do with it, just her. As a keeper she is the last line of defense. Nothing should have gone past her. There was always something she could have done better to get to the quaffle. Always.
“That’s good to hear,” Sasha said with a nod, letting her arms drape over her shoulders, drink still not going anywhere like it was glued to her hand. “I’ve been good,” she spoke, hopefully loud enough for him to hear. Then Sal took the conversation the wrong way, bringing up the last game that she had played against the Arrows. It had gone far from smooth, from the point of view of a player. The score was close, neck to neck practically the whole time, but the Arrows had managed to pull through at the very end, sneaking a quaffle through a hoop. The locker room after that game was far from pleasant for the Harpies. Sash had gone off on one of her rages, blaming herself for the score of the game, walking around ranting about how she should have been there, she should have stopped it, she should have dove off her broom or scared them, or something. She rested her chin on his shoulder. “Are you trying to piss me off here in front of all these people?” she purred into his ear, practically growling.
outfit: clicky?
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Post by salvatore on Jan 3, 2012 22:18:29 GMT -5
If he were being entirely honest, Sal would have to admit that it was a bit intimidating dancing with Sasha. She was a bit older and certainly quite the Quidditch player, so he felt almost as if he were on a lesser level than she was. That was utterly ridiculous, of course, but he couldn't help but feel that way. Not to mention, the fact that he had to watch what he said at every moment was a bit of a scary thing, especially since he was the sort of guy that just said things. Thinking things over before he said them would be vital to surviving the conversation with Sasha right now. Though, perhaps his charming, cute little attitude would win her over enough that she would be less inclined to go off on him for saying anything less than acceptable. If he was lucky, of course.
The conversation was more of a sidebar to their dancing, since it wasn't exactly easy to hear each other over the pounding of the music. However, perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing, since it would leave less time for Salvatore to screw things up. Giving her a quick smile and a nod when she said that she had been doing okay, Sal was pleased to hear it. He knew that there was always a lot going on in the lives of most of his fellow Quidditch players, between work, personal lives and everything else that went on and sometimes a lot of people got pretty stressed out. Though, he didn't quite see Sasha as being much of the stressed out type. He had a feeling that anything that bothered her would be raged at and then moved on from, but he didn't know her well enough to make such snap judgments.
Salvatore was slightly confused when the woman leaned in closer to rest her head on his shoulder, but his confusion was quickly cleared up when she snarled in his ear. That certainly hadn't been his intention, since he really did think that she'd played a good game. The whole team did, really, it was just a last minute score right before Felicity had caught the snitch that pulled the Arrows ahead. "Of course not, of course not. That would be really stupid," he replied, a rather innocent smile on his face. Obviously she wasn't quite over the loss yet and that had been a terrible subject to broach. "Sorry I brought it up... Ah, how's the rest of the team doing? Are you all going to that charity event next weekend?"' he asked, switching over to something that seemed to be a lot more neutral grounds for speaking.
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Post by sasha nicole clearwater on Jan 25, 2012 23:15:14 GMT -5
Bringing up a past loss to Sasha was probably the worst thing you could to yourself besides punching her in the face. It meant you were just looking for it, begging for her to rip you to shreds like a hungry wild dog. Her teammates were always telling her to calm down after matches like their last one against the Arrows, reminding her that it was the past and that there was nothing she could do about it now. But the more she thought about the game, the more she came up with ways to stop the other team’s score from rising and the angrier she got. “I didn’t think so,” her growl softened to a purr. Whenever someone mentioned any mistakes that she had made, the girl always felt like they were targeting her, trying to bash her to the floor with it. Though the goofy looking smile on his face did seem to support the fact that he wasn’t trying to rub the loss in her face.
“The team is doing fine. We’re all training our asses off as usual and Felicity is doing a marvelous job as captain still. What about the Tornadoes?” Sasha asked, only to come off as polite in some way. She had manners and she used them, it was just the anger management problems that usually stepped in the way. In all honesty, she didn’t care how his team was doing unless he was about to spill the weaknesses to their new set pieces, then it didn’t matter. Charity event, what? Sasha didn’t remember hearing about anything like that, or wait. Bentley might have snuck something in the locker room before a game about it. “I’m not entirely sure about everyone else, but I, unfortunately, can’t make it. Just finished packing for Russia before I cam here. Leaving tomorrow actually.”
outfit: clicky?
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Post by salvatore on Jan 30, 2012 21:53:13 GMT -5
It was, admittedly, a bit intimidating being around Sasha. Not so much because she was a famous player, but really just because of her demeanor. She seemed to be constantly ready to pounce at something at a moment's notice if anything at all didn't go her way. Apparently talking about the last game, though she had played pretty well, was not an accepted topic. Sal, being the kind of guy that said whatever came to mind, wasn't exactly suited to a conversation with someone that could easily take things the wrong way if he wasn't careful about what he said and what the inflection of his words were. Though, in a way it was kind of exciting. At any moment she could go off on him and he had to watch what he said and keep on his toes. It was almost like playing mind games or some form of word play, which Salvatore found to be quite intriguing, even if he could find himself in a terrible predicament because of it.
Though some people mind find the fact that their rival teams were doing well to be a bad thing, Salvatore was genuinely glad to hear that the Harpies were on their game and getting things done. He wasn't too fond of a wimpy competition and having other sincerely good teams to play against was the best part of what he did. "That's good. I'm not sure I could handle that woman as a Captain, myself. She's a bit scary, you know," he commented with a chuckle and a shake of his head. The few times he'd met Felicity, he'd found her to be a rather intimidating figure. "We're doing well, though. Practice has been good and I think we're ready to go for our next game," he nodded, grinning a bit as he spoke. He was really excited for his team and more than ready to get the next game started. They had been practicing tirelessly with a new move set, so he hoped that things would get to be quite exciting.
Charity events were one of Sal's favorite things to attend, since it brought everyone together for a good cause and generally made for a pretty fun time. It was hard not to have a blast when surrounded by a ton of people that had the same interests as yourself. "Russia? What's in Russia?" he asked, with a genuine note of interest to his voice. He didn't know Sasha enough to have any idea what she might be doing off in Russia, so that would be something far more interesting to talk about and likely a lot safer than the subject of Quidditch. "Too bad you won't be there. It's going to be a pretty stellar event, I'm told," he added with a soft shrug. He didn't entirely remember what it was for, but he was glad to be going and he was sure it was for something noteworthy. Probably.
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