#not 100% happy with this but we ball o7

[isjasz]

[Day 116]

Damn why is the camel so slow guys

(The strange familiarity)

[lizablythe]

Honestly, Eliza isn’t 100% sure why she’s doing this, other than that her agent told her it was a good idea. She’s given countless interviews since the accident, and she doesn’t know what really made this one any different, except that they’re in Dublin and it’s a new season. Still, she settles into the booth across from a (thankfully) unfamiliar face, nurses a hot cup of black coffee between her palms, and offers a tired, but genuine, smile. “So,” she says, drawing out the syllable and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “What do you want to know?”

o1. Are you happy with the way the quidditch season is going so far?

She leans forward a bit, takes a sip of her coffee, and ducks her head so she doesn’t just burst out laughing. The poor kid is just doing his job. She knows that, but it’s still a funny question to ask anyone who’s played the game before. Eliza shakes her head, glancing up at the reporter from beneath her lashes. “Would you be?” It’s impolite to answer a question with a question. She knows from her rookie media training crash course, but she can’t help it. Holding out a palm, she tries again. “I mean, I miss it, you know? I miss making that big stop. I miss the roar of the crowd. I miss being on the pitch when we come up with a big win and celebrating with my teammates. It’s not like I’m not grateful to still be around the team, but it’s just...it’s different. You know?” The reporter acknowledges this and Eliza continues.

“I mean, if I can’t play, if there’s no possibility, then, yeah, I always want to see them win. I just don’t really like seeing them do it without me.” Her eyes flick up from her coffee, then, a sheepish expression making her lips downturn. “Um, but, like I said, if I can’t go, I’d want them to win. They’re still my team. Still family.”

o2. What words would you use to describe yourself?

Eliza likes this question better. Her shoulders relax and the set of her jaw is less sharp as she leans back into the cushions again. She holds up the hand not gripping her coffee cup and starts counting. “Ambitious. Stubborn. Dedicated. Athletic. Loyal.” She sets her palm flat on the tabletop, drums her fingertips against it, and smiles when the person across from her asks her to...expand, if she could. “I knew what I wanted to do from the time I was six years old and I did it. I only wanted to play for one team -the Cannons- and I did that. I’m still wearing these.” She pulls at the collar of her orange warmup sweatshirt and chuckles to herself. “I have a new goal. And that’s what I’m working on. And no, you can’t know what it is.”

o3. If you could change one aspect of your personality, what would it be?

She blinks. “I dunno. I like myself, actually.” There is one, thing, though, nagging at the back of her mind. She picks at the laminated edge of the table, just for something to do with her hands. “...maybe that loyalty. I mean, I really limited myself during the combine. I didn’t even talk to any other ownership. Not that I’d want to play anywhere else, but you always think, when you’re in situations like that, what if I hadn’t been in that game? If I was with another club, if we’d played the Wasps on a different day, maybe that Beater would’ve been in a better mood. Who knows? So, that, I guess.”

o4. Briefly talk about a defining moment in your life. What made it so important?

Eliza smirks. She points at the reporter with her index finger and shakes it at them. “Now, I know you think you know what I’m going to say, but stay on the line, here.” She pauses to drink some of her coffee while it’s still hot, and she catches the person across the table from her leaning in, interested. She’s actually good at this part -she knows that. The entire professional athlete thing came easily to her from the skillset on the pitch to this part, even if she doesn’t particularly like dealing with the media. But it’s part of the job, and she’s good at her job. “It’s the first time we lost. See, when I was at Hogwarts, my team was really pretty successful. Sure, Gryffindor had our number a few years...” She rolls her eyes at the idea and waves it off, like Gryffindor’s Cups were just some fluke. “But I was used to being successful. When I came here, when I came to the Cannons, I mean, they were in the worst losing streak the Premier League had seen in...ever. And losing? Losing teaches you how to be a better leader than winning ever does. Like, I grew up in that locker room because of my captains, and I think I was a better teammate because of it.”

o5. If you weren’t involved in the quidditch scene, what kind of job do you would have? 

“Have you ever watched football? No, not American- Like, the game with the ball on the grass? It’s pretty similar to Quidditch, actually, without the magic and the flying.” Eliza digs around in her bag to find a newspaper article and sets it between them. The photographs aren’t moving -of course they aren’t; it’s a Muggle paper- but it shows the Irish National Team’s last game-winning goal. “I’d be the one stopping those shots. Do what you know, right?”

o6. What are some similarities/differences between yourself and your teammates/coworkers?

Eliza purses her lips. “Well, they’re usually on brooms and I’m not...” She kind of wishes she had a beer in front of her instead of coffee, and Eliza’s gaze drifted idly towards the coffee bar, wondering if there was some kind of alcoholic option, before pulling herself back to the interview. “We’re all really goal-oriented. You have to be to be in this league. But there’s always different personalities in the room. And I know I’m not -I don’t play with them anymore, but the team is still who I’m closest with. I might bridge them to the management now, but you’re more likely to find me out with them celebrating a win on a Saturday than...whatever Edison gets up to.” Eliza laughs, then, and shakes her head. “So I’m really serious when it comes to Quidditch, and sometimes Greg isn’t. I’m not as dedicated as Robyn, though. And Rhys and I are exactly as charming, didn’t you know? We get on well. That’s what makes a team work, I think. And yeah, we’re different, but the same where it counts.”

o7. What kind of things do you think about when you’re alone?

“You don’t have a cat, do you?” Eliza asks, arching her eyebrows. “I just mean, I do, and so I’m never really alone, because he’s literally always in my business. But I guess I think about normal things?” She’s back to picking at the laminate again, examining the chipped polish on her nails. She’d need to redo that. “I think about paying my rent and what I’m going to have for dinner and if my ex is still a horrible person. And sometimes I think about Quidditch, but I’ve been trying not to, lately.”

o8. What are three good habits and three bad habits that you have?

Eliza wrinkles her nose. “Bad first?” She gets a nod and starts counting them off with her fingers again. “I drink way too much coffee. I buys way too many brooms. And I overanalyze and blame myself for stuff a lot.” She says this all very quickly, and is already into her good habits before the poor reporter can get a follow-up question in. “For the good ones, I’m the queen of to-do lists, I still talk to my parents every week, and I only fight with one of my siblings.” That did earn a follow-up, of course, about the brother she didn’t care for. Eliza sighs and dips her head to take another drink. “He just doesn’t think the accident was his player’s fault, and I can’t really forgive that.” 

o9. What is your personal philosophy?

This one’s easy. The words are out of her mouth before her brain even has time to catch up. “Work hard, stay humble. We’re Quidditch players, and yeah, kids want to be us when they grow up, but we’re just people. We make mistakes and we have lives outside of this game, even if mine right now is my cat and a muggle band. But if you want something, anything, you have to work for it. And once you get it? Don’t forget the little people.” She considers this before adding. “Unless they’re on the team that ended your career. Then you can forget them all.”

1o. Would you rather be liked or respected? Feared or loved?

“Are you asking the players these questions? Can I get a transcript? I think I’m going to be helping with scouting...” In Eliza’s mind, there was only one correct answer to each question, and they were...kind of contradictory. “First,” she says, holding up her right index finger. “I’d rather be respected. Because there are a lot of fans out there who don’t like me, but respect my game. And it’s really the same way from my end. I don’t have to like you to respect your game. I think Oliver Wood was one of the best Keepers to ever play the game, but I still wouldn’t have wanted to pay against him.” It was halfway through the answer that Eliza realized she was using the present tense, and she clears her throat before holding up her left index finger instead. “And second, I’d rather be loved. What does anyone get out of being feared? Like I said before, we’re all human beings as well as Quidditch players...you’re not going to get very far in life if you don’t have people to love and people who love you back. You have to have that balance.”

11. What are your thoughts on Puddlemere United?

A fond smile crosses her lips. She’s done with her coffee, so she flips the mug over upside down. “I hated playing them because they’re really annoying. They clog up the middle of the pitch so well, and it seemed like their Chasers were always coming at me.” An almost wistful sigh follows. “But I loved playing against them, too, because it was always a challenge. The rivalry is the best out there and we always showed up to those games. Even the ones we lost, they were some of the best ones to see as a fan.” She chews her bottom lip slightly. “I’m looking forward to being on the other side this time.” But she wasn’t, not really. Being a fan was awful; she coudn’t do anything to help.

12. What about The Chudley Cannons?

Her eyes lit up. “Them, I like.” Eliza laughs into her palm and watches the reporter’s quill taking notes. “It’s like when you go to school for the first time and find that group of weird people you finally fit in with. That’s what the Cannons are like. And I think our fans feel included, too, and we’re all one big group fighting for one thing, and when they won the Cup, I wasn’t there, but it’s almost like I was.” Almost isn’t the same, but her voice doesn’t waver anymore. So that’s a start.

13. If given a more lucrative position with another team, would you take it? 

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Eliza answers, leaning in close and dropping her voice an octave or two. “Chudley isn’t the only team to offer me a job. I was offered coaching, no I’m not telling you where, but it’s not about the money. It’s about having a support system, about being close to my teammates.” The reporter, who has been nothing but gracious so far, seems intrigued by this and asks the awful question. If someone else asked you to play, though...? Eliza sighs again, more loudly this time, a bit exasperated with this whole business. It’s not worth the free cup of coffee. It might not even be worth a free drink. “No one’s asked,” is all she says.

14. Would you consider yourself an optimist or a pessimist? 

She shakes her head. “I’m a realist. I don’t let myself get my hopes up too far or get too down in the dumps about anything.” Eliza points a finger towards her own chest. “The only person that has any say in what happens to me, is me.” That’s not entirely true and they both know it; her accident had been out of her control. But what happens after? That’s all on Eliza. “I’m not willing to believe some kind of statistical odds.” A smirk appears. “After all, the Cannons were 100/1 losers last year.” 

15. What’s one thing you would change about your team, if given the opportunity?

Another softball. Eliza knows what they want to hear, and she kind of consider’s not saying it, but everyone would know she was lying if she didn’t say it. She stands up from the table, then, shrugs into her coat, and as she’s pulling a knit cap over her hair, says, “I’d be playing.” Then she turns to go.