Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus on Quidditch Pitch

Coach Amelia Pierce

December 15, 2010 5:04 PM

Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus by Coach Amelia Pierce

The day of the final Quidditch match was another beautiful spring day after a string of them. Coach Amelia Pierce had worried the good weather wouldn't hold until the weekend, but the sky remained blue, the clouds white and fluffy, and the temperature comfortably warm.

She went out onto the pitch in good spirits with her whistle hanging around her neck, her broom in hand, and the box of Quidditch balls floating behind her. She dumped the box in the middle of the Pitch and flipped open its lid to reveal the Quaffle, the two restrained bludgers, and the fluttering golden snitch that tried to escape its own enclosure.

She looked over the two groups of players already gathered to hear their captains give their pre-game speeches, and then glanced up into the full stands. There were always more spectators on nice days like this than on game days cursed with miserable weather.

She straighted her own referee robes, carefully chosen to have none of the red or silver of the House she was the Head of, or any blue or black of Aladren, which, between them, disqualified the vast majority of her wardrobe. She'd eventually found a dark green set of robes that she really hoped would not get confused with a student's uniform. Lacking anything better (the ancient bronze robes that had once been her own school uniform at Salem certainly did not qualify), the dark green was what she wore now over a purple blouse and a pair of khaki pants.

She looked again at the teams, and the captains seemed to be wrapping up. "Welcome to the Quidditch Finals," she said in a magically amplified voice that carried up to the stands. "Could the captains, Thomas Fitzgerald of Aladren and Charlotte Abbott of Crotalus please shake hands." It was a request, not a question.

Once they had done so, Amelia continued, "We have a beautiful day for some Quidditch, so let's get started shall we?" She set first the snitch, then the bludgers free from the box, and then picked up the quaffle. "On my whistle the game begins. It ends with the capture of the snitch. Everyone play nice in between." She hefted the quaffle in her hand, readied her whistle, and then tossed the red ball as high into the air as she could.

Her whistle blew at the same time and the game was on.

Subthreads:

I'm not sure how nice this is, but I digress by Edmond Carey, Beater with Marissa Stephenson,Seeker

Nothing like a Championship by Charlotte Abbott, Chaser with Nic Sawyer, Keeper, Sam Bauer, Chaser

1 Coach Amelia Pierce Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus 20 Coach Amelia Pierce 1 5

Edmond Carey, Beater

December 16, 2010 12:02 AM

I'm not sure how nice this is, but I digress by Edmond Carey, Beater

For some reason, as he got ready for the Quidditch final, the primary thought on Edmond’s mind was that his sister and his foster mother were still fighting about his summer itinerary. Julia was determined to have access to him on certain occasions relating to both social events and what he was to study while he was out of Sonora, but Morgaine wanted him to spend more than two weeks in Georgia this year. At this point, neither appeared to be close to backing down.

No one, of course, had bothered to ask him his opinion on the matter. It wouldn’t be very kind, and he doubted he would do it more than once, but at least once after he took over from her, he thought he might have to make a call involving his sister without her advice. It was irritating to be fifteen, officially treated as though he were ninety, and informally moved around as though he were still six.

Why that, of all things, should be what he was thinking before the Quidditch game puzzled him, though, and he did enjoy the occasional puzzle. He couldn’t see the relationship between the topics.

He didn’t have a great deal of time to work it out, though, with all the speaking and other people moving around to interrupt his chain of thought when he couldn’t exactly shut out his environment and noise from the crowd. For the student body to be as small as it was, they could get awfully loud at these things; perhaps, though he’d never seen anyone completely unfamiliar when attending games as a spectator, members of the surrounding communities attended as well. There was a magical society in the southwest, but not a great deal for them to entertain themselves with unless they wanted to go to California for it. Even students playing brief, largely uneventful games could be a pleasant change of pace, under the right circumstances.

The weather also felt pleasant, though Edmond supposed it wouldn’t feel that way in half an hour. Things tended to feel colder, high in the air and often moving very briskly, and then when they came back down, it was like being hit with a wave of heat. Very unpleasant. Though aware of the upside – the ground would be good for kicking off of, and visibility would be decent – he hoped, as he always did, that Jera made quick work of this. The audience might not be overly entertained, but that wasn’t his concern.

The whistle was. And the people moving all around. One of the things he liked least about Beating was ascending and not running into everyone while holding on to his broom and a bat. The other two were trying to crack people’s skulls, particularly those of people he liked quite well off the Pitch, and occasionally spending much of the game without a great deal of excitement. The Chasers here were uncannily good at avoiding Bludgers, and it was always possible for a game to pass without a single assault on his Seeker.

Of course, he didn’t really expect that today. He had heard Miss Abbott had broken up with one of her Beaters – just because he seldom, if ever, had anything to contribute to that cauldron of stories did not mean Edmond was any less capable of listening to gossip than anyone else; he needed to know what, if anything, people were saying about him – so there was a chance Mr. Talsky would be out to sabotage her by missing hits, but Edmond had trouble reading him that way. Besides, this was the Championship. The bragging rights for winning this one went to entire Houses, and might well decide the points competition as well if Crotalus won. It was a greater matter than personal feelings; despite liking her quite a lot, Edmond was certainly going to take the first chance he saw to eliminate Miss Stephenson as a threat, and expected the Crotalus Beaters to be just as dedicated to taking out Aladren's Seeker. That was why Edmond had decided to make her his personal responsibility for the day; the other Beater, Devlin, was all right, but Edmond was both bigger and more experienced than he was.

A Bludger came his way very quickly, and Edmond was good enough at this now to react without an excess of thought, hitting it even more quickly away from himself – and, by extension, Jera – and toward Marissa.

0 Edmond Carey, Beater I'm not sure how nice this is, but I digress 0 Edmond Carey, Beater 0 5

Charlotte Abbott, Chaser

December 16, 2010 2:01 PM

Nothing like a Championship by Charlotte Abbott, Chaser

Well, they'd made it to the championship, she supposed that was something. Charlotte still believed they could win this game if they really put the effort in, but it was going to be a lot harder than their match against Teppenpaw. For a start, she'd drafted in some second year to play Keeper for the day as Miya had the audacity to get sick. If Nic proved to be any good, she would just have to steal him for the subsequent years, too. It wasn't like Miya had been reliable or skilled - they just hadn't had anybody else sign up. No matter; they'd been training hard. They could totally do this! Charlie continued to psych herself up as she showered, dressed into her crimson and silver Quidditch robes, and swallowed down a bacon sandwich. She took time outside the Hall to braid her hair back tightly out of the way, and to re-tie her bootlaces a little tighter before sitting side-saddle on her broom and coasting gently down to the pitch. The Crotalus captain was dismayed to find some spectators in the crowd already. Weird enthusiasts.

After some basic stretches on the ground, Charlie remounted her broom for a quick warm-up lap and her team started to arrive as she landed. They were soon followed by the opposing team and a steady stream of other students. By the time she had her whole team together Charlie could identify the pre-game butterflies fluttering somewhere in her abdomen and she couldn't keep the smile from her voice even as she tried for a very serious, no nonsense version of her pre-game speech. "The Quidditch Championship!" she said to get their attention. "The final game. This is what we've been practicing for all year, so let's not let ourselves down." Otherwise there would be hell to pay next year, but she wasn't going to voice that right now; it was hardly pep-talk material.

"This is Nic," she pointed to the kid who had height on his side and at least didn't look like a second year cornered into being emergency Keeper, "He's our Keeper today." Charlie left it at that. "The weather's great, which means there's absolutely no excuse for messing up passes. The Aladren players are old - ancient - for some of them this is their last game. They're seventh years, so they've got a lot to play for. Fitzgerald for one isn't going to give up on this one, so Beaters, I need you focused." She was fairly sure Dmitry would be able to focus on the House victory of Crotalus and not begrudge her for dumping him shortly after midterm enough to throw the game. She looked him square on to convey her point. "The Chasers are all fair game, particularly the captain and his vice-assistant, or whatever that is." Yes, she would feel a twinge of regret if one of her Beaters took Daniel out on her order, but this was Quidditch, he knew what he was in for. Same went for Jera. "The Seeker is also a viable target - she's been on the team for longer than any of us have been at this school, so she definitely knows her stuff. You want to knock her off her broom and make the game easier for Marissa, you guys just feel free."

Okay, she'd given the Beaters a talking to, one that could have been summed up with 'knock everyone off their brooms.' She hadn't mentioned the Keeper because... well, it was Grayson Wright. Though admittedly he had shown an improvement recently. "Okay, Marissa, you know what to do. Chasers, we have got to work as a team. Last game was good, this game we have to be much better! If we can swing it, I don't want that Quaffle going anywhere near our goals!" This might sound like she didn't have any faith in her own Keeper. That might be true, but hey, the kid could prove himself. Stranger things had happened.

Charlie took a peek over her shoulder and the case of balls was already out - Coach Pierce looked ready to start soon. Turning back to her team, she hurriedly added, "Guys we can win this if we want it hard enough." Then, right on cue, Coach Pierce, the Crotalus Head of House (who would be impartial no matter how much Charlie wanted her to be biased) started speaking, and called the captains over to shake hands. Charlie could resist the flirtatious wink towards the Aladren captain as she shook his hand. She definitely had a thing for Aladrens. Belatedly she realized she could have played this to her advantage with Dmitry being Beater. Never mind – it wasn’t as if she was going to stay with a boy just to win a game of Quidditch. That was ridiculous.

As Charlotte made her way back to her team, she could hear the Coach going on about the beautiful day. Yes, it was beautiful, and it could only be made all the more beautiful by a Crotalus win. Charlie was sure the Coach would agree. So, mounting her broom, she waited, tensed, for the whistle, and kicked off from the ground with a spectacular velocity as the game began. Never taking her eyes off the Quaffle – good practice for a Chaser – Charlie shot towards it, arms, outstretched, and claimed the ball for her own. She pulled the uneven red leather vessel tight in to her chest, holding on to it with her right arm as she returned her left hand to the broom to steer. Tugging gently until she was facing the goalposts where Aladren stood guard, she did travel too far before deciding to make a pass. There were too many people here and if she left it too long either Aladren would block her entirely, or they could all become Bludger targets. Charlie looked round and passed the Quaffle just a short distance to a teammate. It was both easy and hard to do when all the Chasers were right there together, when they hadn’t spread out across the sky just yet; she just hoped Sam and Renée were awake enough to keep hold of the ball until suitable to make another pass.

0 Charlotte Abbott, Chaser Nothing like a Championship 0 Charlotte Abbott, Chaser 0 5

Nic Sawyer, Keeper

December 16, 2010 4:50 PM

Why am I here again? by Nic Sawyer, Keeper

Nic took flying lessons last year. The first class hadn't been his first time on a broom, but it had been his fifth. He'd done okay. He was an athletic guy and his balance was pretty good as long as he knew where his limbs ended (this had been a problem recently after his summer growth spurt, but that had slowed since returning to Sonora and now he pretty much knew where his feet and hands were most of the time).

Still, he had felt no inclination to play Quidditch. He didn't really like being a part of a team (there fact that there was no 'i' in team was a problem, not a draw) and the only sport he followed or involved himself in at home was skateboarding. His experience on a broom was limited, his grasp of the rules was negligible, and a month ago he couldn't wall into a room without bumping into the door frame.

Not good omens for throwing him on the field with absolutely zilch practice or training.

But Miya was sick and he'd been standing in exactly the wrong spot when Charlie Abbott was told and somehow these facts didn't seem to matter. He could distinctly remember saying, "No way, absolutely not." He could clearly recall saying, "Find someone else to do it." But somehow the conversation had ended with him saying, "See you then." And somewhere in the middle of that he'd said, "Yeah, okay, fine." He still wasn't entirely sure how that happened.

He was a body - a tall body with a long reach even - and that qualified him as better than nobody at all. Plus, he'd played soccer at his last school (involuntarily, during gym, but he'd still played), so he at least knew generally what he was supposed to do as Keeper. He didn't get the scoring and what-not or what a tiny flying ball with wings had to do with the rest of it, but he didn't need to in order to stop the red ball from going through the three hoops he was supposed to be guarding.

Plus, well, there was an 'i' in 'goalie' so if any position needed emergency replacement, and he was the guy who had to fill it, he was glad it was that one. He didn't really have to work with anyone. He just had to keep an eye on where the red ball was and make sure he threw it to a person in a red robe if it came into his possession.

So here he was. The spare Crotalus uniform was too big - he might be huge for a twelve year old, but he was still, well, twelve and way skinnier than whoever wore this before - and the broom in his hand came from the school broom closet, but he almost looked like he belonged.

He waved casually, like this was no big deal, when Charlie introduced him to the rest of the team, and said, "Hey."

He listened to the rest of her speech, but didn't think it really much applied to him. He was the new guy and he hadn't being practicing and he was pretty much intended to be a five foot nine inch tall barrier with really long arms planted in front of the hoops. In short, he'd be really glad if he went the whole game without falling off his broom and if he did manage to stop a ball from going into the goal, that would just be gravy.

At the whistle, he kicked off the ground like he'd been shown last year, and took a spot at the opposite end of the pitch from where Charlie was currently taking the Quaffle.

With any luck, it would stay on that end of the field. Pitch. Whatever.

1 Nic Sawyer, Keeper Why am I here again? 165 Nic Sawyer, Keeper 0 5

Sam Bauer, Chaser

December 20, 2010 12:02 AM

Especially one we win. by Sam Bauer, Chaser

Twice, now, Sam had paused somewhere completely random, in the middle of doing something else, convinced that his mind was playing tricks on him and that Crotalus making it to the Quidditch Championship was just one of those oddly vivid, realistic dreams he sometimes had. Now, on the day of that game, he put his red robes on and collected a broomstick in the firm expectation of watching Coach Pierce turn into a dragon or something halfway through the match. Since this was a dream and all.

Still, though, most of his dreams weren’t this vivid. There had been that one, the one where he was in a store he was pretty sure only existed in fiction and had broken a $300 dollar ring by gripping it too hard when something weird happened and had to sneak the pieces out and felt the metal, where everything was unusually realistically textured, but normally, the nuances of physical sensation and visual detail were lost in whatever process his mind used to filter information and translate it into dreams. Right now, he was aware of the fit of his sneakers – not the best – and the weight of the Quidditch robes and the irregularities in the broomstick he was holding and the ground he was standing on. Little things, but they made him think that he might actually be working with the real-world situation rather than one his head found it funny to fool him with.

Of course, the moment he thought that, he got nervous. But he supposed no one could win every time. No one person, anyway; the Crotalus team could totally win every time, at least with their current lineup. To think otherwise was to not think positively, which he had a feeling the official leadership would frown on.

Or maybe not. Charlie’s pep talk impressed him as a realistic assessment of the situation. He waved casually to his roommate when Nic was introduced to the team, feeling somewhat less intimidated by said roommate than usual, and nodded acceptance of the job of keeping the Quaffle far away from the other second year. It struck him as amusing that Aladren and Crotalus were likely employing identical strategy on that end – keep the ball away from our incompetent Keeper at all costs – and he smiled for a second before Charlie’s final assurance and the progression out onto the Pitch.

Coach Pierce was more formal-seeming than usual, which he chalked up to it being, well, the Championship. It was more than just another game, and so required more from all of them. More speech, more spectacle, probably more Bludger, though he preferred to think that the Aladrens lacked the combination of bloodthirst and skill for that to work out against his side, for all that the Aladren standard temperament was more suited to war-like activity than Crotali were supposed to be.

The coach was more formal than usual, but not much more verbose; in a shockingly small amount of time, they were off, Crotalus in possession. Sam silently cheered his captain and moved in, as quickly as possible while not slamming into another player while the masses spread out, to cover her in case she wanted or needed to pass suddenly.

When the pass came, he caught it with only a slight wobble and rose in altitude to avoid what, from the corner of his eye, looked like an Aladren. The problem was the benefits of not moving in a straight line versus the disadvantages; on one hand, it would make him much harder to hit with a Bludger or steal from, but on the other, it could make it harder to rely on his own teammates. Finally, he decided to go with the advantage over the disadvantage and assume that even if Renée – who very might well be, given her record – wasn’t good enough to keep up, Charlie would be.

He was right about one of them, because when he was ready to pass, a red uniform was right in line. He didn’t bother distinguishing which dark-haired girl was wearing it before throwing the ball away from him, another relatively short, controlled arc like the one Charlotte had passed to him on. He just hoped they hadn’t been getting lucky the first time, and that this one would go as smoothly as that one had.

16 Sam Bauer, Chaser Especially one we win. 163 Sam Bauer, Chaser 0 5

Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser

December 20, 2010 12:45 AM

Don't count your chickens too soon by Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser

To his own horror and disgust, Thomas had begun feeling more and more nostalgic as the year drew closer and closer to its end. He had never felt a great deal of attachment to his school, but now that he was faced with the prospect of never coming back to it – of performing a mundane, day-to-day activity for the last time – he was finding himself terribly sentimental.

It was funny, the way things worked out. He had always planned to be Prefect and Head Boy, but had never considered the Quidditch captain position as one to pursue. It was better for establishing military leadership qualities than political ones, and while he had the scores to do it if he wanted to, he had no intentions of joining the Aurors. Here he was, though, captain, while his strange roommate – and dear Merlin, had he never thought he’d actually expect to miss Gray Wright when he met the guy – relative of a Quidditch fanatic, got the other badge. And he didn’t really mind that.

Of course, it helped that Thomas had managed to become Head Boy over him. He wasn’t sure he’d be such a good sport about it if Gray had gotten that. He might well have been the closest thing to a brother Thomas had ever known - if usually that annoying kid brother who grew up to be the black sheep of the family - but he doubted he was the only one who knew Gray and still had trouble untangling his syntax enough to figure out what the hell he was talking about half the time, and he was pretty sure the dude was going to end up going more in the F. Scott Fitzgerald direction than in the Thomas J. Fitzgerald one once they were out in the world. Him as Head Boy would have been a disaster, and not just for Thomas’ future applications.

He’d arrived early before the game, beating even the die-hard fans down to the Pitch, and smiled wryly at his fellow seventh years when they joined him. “Here goes nothing, huh?” he said in an undertone to them, ignoring the rest of the team for a moment. “Good luck today. And remember, you two have caught more stuff than Marissa and their sub have ever seen. We’ve got this.”

Just because there was no doubt that even Gray was better than a last-minute substitution didn’t mean it could hurt to point out the obvious on that front, at least for someone who had an unusual view of what was obvious. Jera, he wasn’t even worried about. Marissa Stephenson had won one game, but considering that it was against a first year Seeker, Jera’s record still made hers look like a really good joke.

“All right, everyone,” he said, pitching his voice louder once everyone was present and ready and he could tell it was nearly time. “This isn’t going to be as easy as Pecari, but I still think we’ve got a better shot than Crotalus does. Their Keeper got sick, and I don’t think the stand-in was even training with them before. All around, we’ve got better players on every position than they do today.” Beaters were always arguable, but personally, Thomas would take Edmond’s calm, objective personality over Dmitry Talsky’s appearance of excessive aggression any day. Theo Manzana had a slight age advantage over Devlin, but he seriously doubted, with Jera’s experience, that it would be enough for him to take her out and change the game. “We’ve all worked hard, and I’m proud of this team.” He had practiced his speeches often enough to not mind or seem awkward while using emotional language. “The only way we’re going to lose this one is if we get too confident or destiny says so, and I'm pretty sure the Fates have got better things to do than mess with us, don't you think?" Good to end on something of a joke; he wanted them in good spirits. “Let’s go get ‘em.”

When prompted, he shook Charlie Abbott’s hand firmly, and was surprised – and a little amused – when she winked at him like that. And glad he was enough taller than her that it was most likely that the guys on his team hadn’t noticed. While she did have a reputation, he was pretty sure that was just an attempt to mess with his head before a game.

She pushed more of his buttons by taking the Quaffle first, endangering his goals. That annoyed him. He wasn’t too pleased about it when her pass to Sam Bauer worked, either, or with how very threatened his goals were getting by the time Sam passed. This time, though, he was in a better position and though it was close – he was sure, for a split second, that his elbow was going to slam into someone else’s, which would be less than a happy experience for either of them at the speeds they were moving – he managed to swipe the ball from the air between Crotali, drop lower in the air to get clear of them, and get turned around.

He didn’t, however, hold onto it for long. The captain taking a Bludger to the head would be bad for morale, so it was best to not make himself any more of a target than he already was just by virtue of being the captain. Hoping for the best, and helping it along by checking behind him a second before throwing to another Aladren at reasonably close range, he passed the ball.

0 Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser Don't count your chickens too soon 0 Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser 0 5

Renée Errant {Chaser}

December 20, 2010 12:47 AM

That's a definite then? by Renée Errant {Chaser}

Renée's mouth stretched into a wide yawn as she made her way to the quidditch pitch, rubbing sleep from her eyes with her free hand while the other one clutched her broom. Her mother had had to do business in Portugal (apparently a huffy mother of a bride-to-be demanded new robes and dresses at once) but had had enough time to buy her daughter the Febre broom. She had gotten Gabriel a racing broom after he'd won his first game, and had apparently decided to continue the tradition. Renée was so in awe of her gift, that she had yet to actually ride it, surprising herself with her ability to resist the temptation. It was just too new for her, and shiny. She wanted to keep it that way as long as she could.

She hurried towards her team once she noticed everyone was already there. She tried not to feel embarrassed and looked down at her feet while she listened to Charlie talk; everyone was just so much older and taller than her. She couldn't help but feel out of place. 'Thank Merlin I didn't fall off my broom the last game.' It suddenly occurred to her how much smarter it would have been to actually familiarize herself with her current broom. 'Oh boy.' She clutched it tighter in her hand.

Charlie's pep talk made her feel just a little more nervous, but there was excitement in there too. She introduced Nic as their substitute keeper, and Renée smiled a little at him, but doubted he remembered her. She certainly wasn't able to forget almost meeting a giant. Charlie finished, the captains shook hands, and Coach Pierce blew the whistle. Renée swung her legs over her broom, bent her knees, and then kicked off.

"Ungh!" She gripped her broom tight as she rose through the air, much faster than she expected. It was almost uncomfortable how well the broom, smaller than all the other's, moved at her instructions. She was used to urging, but this went with her slightest touch. There was also a cushioning charm, so there wasn't the usual soreness that she felt on the wood. 'Probably should have broken this in before I played.' She returned her attention to the game and blinked in confusion, and then blushed. Charlie had already gained possession and had passed to Sam. Renée, already lagging behind, pointed herself in the direction of Aladren goals. She was going faster than intended, and despite the perfect weather she was shivering from the whiplash of wind against her.

She pulled up not too far away from Sam, and barely had time to raise her hands before the Quaffle was heading her way. She instinctively dipped her broom lower to catch the pass, and let out a breath of relief when she felt the hard leather slap onto her palms. She cradled it to her side and continued on. 'That's it, I completed a successful pass the first chance I got. This is good. It's all gonna be good.' She continued towards Aladren goals, chanting to herself, and trying to stifle the bundle of nerves growing like a knot in her chest. She could see the Aladren keeper clearly.

'Do I shoot? Do I pass? What do I do? I should make the shot - no. Charlie and Sam are much better... but I can do it. I know I can! I can make it. I can score. I can - ' She lost her nerve. Renée raised her arm as if to shoot at the left goal hoop, but at the last second turned and sent an accurate drop pass to her fellow chaser below. 'Next time.' She promised herself. 'I'll try for the shot next time.'

0 Renée Errant {Chaser} That's a definite then? 0 Renée Errant {Chaser} 0 5

Grayson Wright, Keeper

December 20, 2010 1:04 AM

Hey, that's my line. by Grayson Wright, Keeper

Am playing in Quidditch Championship on [Date]. Opponent is Crotalus. Their Keeper sucks more than I do. And I’m writing another play. I love this school.

That had been, in its entirety, the message Gray sent to his cousin when he found out when the finals were going to be and who the opponent was. In retrospect, he should have known better. Anne’s shrink had apparently forbidden her from playing Quidditch, and he honestly thought she wouldn’t enjoy it if she didn’t get to be in charge anyway, but she was still very attached to the concept of the Aladren team, and either the shrink had not told her off for talking about it or Anne had just conveniently forgotten to mention that she’d written Gray almost a full scroll of parchment of advice to pass on to Thomas, mixed in with random advice about RATS and dating they were both apparently free to enjoy.

None of the messages had been relayed. After getting a headache sometime around the fourth foot, Gray had put the letter aside for the sake of his sanity and done his best to forget about it. His cousin had many skills, but letter writing was not one of them.

Because there was no point in doing anything when he had a place to be – either he’d never get started, distracted by the Whatever, or he’d get so involved in it that he forgot to go where he needed to be – Gray arrived early to the match and was surprised to hear that Crotalus had a sub. “You mean I’m gonna be compared to someone who’s never played?” he asked. “Awesome!” He realized that was not a very Aladren-like sentiment to express: they were supposed to be about honor and ambition and excellence and overcoming challenges, not cheering because the challenge level had dropped. “I mean, uh, good luck to you, too. You, you, too, Jera.”

He listened to Thomas’ speech despite having heard it practiced before, wondering if there were any more speeches he’d end up being the test audience for before they graduated. Gray knew himself well enough to know that he’d be that guy still sending letters to people he’d known in school ten years from now just because something cool happened and it reminded him of that person, but he didn’t really expect to see a lot of people on a regular basis again, and Thomas was the future poster boy for whatever political party half-bloods and purebloods on Gray’s family’s level were backing these days. Considering that Gray’s only contact with the political world would probably be writing stuff from various points of view just to give people headaches trying to pin him down if he ever got big enough for anyone to notice…

When the game began, Gray didn’t concern himself too much with who had the Quaffle, or what was going on with the Snitch; his priority, as always, was to get in the air and over to the Aladren hoops without falling off his broom, running into anyone, or getting hit by a Bludger. He was pretty sure he’d be a low-priority target, but who knew. A potential downside of the Crotalus Keeper being New Younger Guy was that the Beaters might have orders to take him out just to make their new guy look good. If there were image issues to be had, Crotali had them.

He got, however, to the goals without damage to himself or others, or even Crotalus getting close enough to shoot. They did, however, have the ball, which he wasn’t too happy about. Crotalus with the ball meant potential work for him, and Gray hated it when that happened even when failure on his part wouldn’t mean potentially looking worse than a last-minute substitution.

16 Grayson Wright, Keeper Hey, that's my line. 113 Grayson Wright, Keeper 0 5

Charlotte Abbott, Chaser

December 20, 2010 12:43 PM

Merging some posts by Charlotte Abbott, Chaser

OOC - talk about posting at the same time! I'm going to assume each player got the quaffle in the ordet they posted - Coach if there's a problem with this let me know!

Charlie subdued the urge to rejoice externally when her pass to Sam was successful. She knew it was just a pass, and the first in the game, but every team success was worth celebrating in its own little way. Unfrotunately, if any of them stopped to cheer whenever one of them did something well, they wouldn't get very far in their game. So it was that the cpatain merely allowed herself an internal exclamation of pleasure, before continuing on up to the other end of the pitch. She passed her chaser with the quaffle, ready for him to do a leap-frog style pass back to her, when something went wrong - the Quaffle left sam's hands but seemed to find itself in possession of Thomas Fitzgerald, and going the wrong way. Huh, that wasn't such good news. She could hardly hold it against the seventh year; he had enough experience that he should be able to intercept the ball from time to time, but Charlie hated that it had to be on her watch. Reluctantly, she turned her broom, facing back the way she'd just come. She supposed this was why they were called Chasers - the central players were always chasing that Quaffle this way and that.

Not taking her eye off the Quaffle, Charlie watched as it was passed from Thomas and then - then somehow Renee had it, almost looking as if she'd caught it by accident. Or maybe instinct. Renee had been lagging behind Charlie and Sam a bit - maybe she'd just been in the right place at the right time. Whatever, Charlotte didn't care, Crotalus had the Quaffle again and it was speeding up towards Grayson, having only been diverted from this course for a brief moment. It looked to the captain like Renee might try for a goal. It seemed reasonable, the pitch that end was still fairly empty of other players and potential obstacles, and she had confidence that Renee could get a goal past Grayson. But just in case, she lowered her broom to be ready to receive a pass if it was coming.

This was why they practised so hard, Charlie thought as she caught the throw she had anticipated from her other Chaser. Renee knew she would be there, and Charlie knew to be there. Whatever the outcome of this game, or any other, for that matter, she was confident that Crotalus had the best Chasing team of any of the Sonora teams, and they had so for years. They had tactics and they worked together, not like pecaris who just yelled at each other or Tepps who seemed to just wing it. Focus, that's what Crotalus had, and that's what Grayson would need right now. Renee had feinted a shot at the left hoop, so Charlie pulled her weight to the side and aimed directly at the right hoop. It should have been enough to confuse someone with Grayson's track record, but she couldn't deny that he had been improving. She watched the Quaffle sail through the air, hoping it would score.

0 Charlotte Abbott, Chaser Merging some posts 0 Charlotte Abbott, Chaser 0 5

Jera Valson, Seeker

December 20, 2010 1:27 PM

Once more to the... pitch. by Jera Valson, Seeker

Jera supposed she should consider this her last ever Quidditch game. She couldn't conceive of a time in the future when she would be required to sign-up, unless it was for a charity or fundraiser, but even then she would demonstrate reluctance. It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed playing for Aladren - once she'd gotten over the initial shock of the first two years then the rest had been a breeze - but she wasn't passionate about the sport sufficiently to persue it once Aladren no longer had a need for her. That was the only reason she'd joined up in the first place: to make up team numbers. She hadn't regretted it in the slightest, and was proud to be in the championship in her seventh and final year. It was simply a good place to stop, and made it all the more important that she win this game so she could finish on a high note.

There were other reaons that she especially wanted to win, and they were called Thomas and Grayson. Gray's cousin had been captain when Jera'd joined the team, and now Thomas was captain, and both her friends were in their seventh years, too. She didn't think either of them would be likely to play again after this match, so they were in the same position as her. Thomas summed it with his 'this is it' and his reminder that they both had more experience than their Crotalus counterparts, which Jera felt was probably more for Gray's benefit than her own. Still, she joined the boys in wishing each other luck and then stayed quiet as she listened to Thomas' last speech. It was a good one.

Mounting her broomstick, Jera kicked off to the whistle for what might have been the last time (it wouldn't be the last time she was flying her broom because she liked her broom and if she was going to travel with Jessie at any time in the future she would take her broomstick along). It was a lovely day, and after the game Jera thought she would shower and then stretch out in the gardens, maybe she would take her shoes off and walk around feeling the blades of grass between her toes. She still had exam studying to do, but it was nice to un wind and relax fomr time to time. Maybe Thomas and Gray could be persuaded to join her. Right now, though, the seventh year had to focus on the game. The afternoon outdoors relaxation she had planned wouldn't go down half so well if they lost the game.

So, focus, right. Jera did a quick lap of the pitch, feeling the wind rush through her hair and past her robes, as she got her bearings and apparently Crotalus got the Quaffle. Ah well, not everything in life could always go smoothly. Which reminded Jera of the small, extra pressure that she felt today - her Ma had decided she was well enough to sit in the stands and watch her daughter's last game. See, that's why Aladren had to win. This wasn't just Jera's last Sonora game, it was her Ma's, too. The both of them would be leaving at the end of the year. Partly, Jera wanted her ma to see her ctahc the Snitch in her last game. But also, as her Ma had been Head of Crotalus House at one stage, it would just suck if crotalus won.

So, turning on her broom, keeping the sun behind her to reduce glare where possible, Jera set to searching for that Snitch. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Quaffle up by the Aladren goals. Well, let the Crots score their goals if they had to; so long as she caught the Snitch before Marissa it would be fine.

0 Jera Valson, Seeker Once more to the... pitch. 0 Jera Valson, Seeker 0 5

Gray Wright, Keeper

December 20, 2010 2:21 PM

Two seconds. It must be some kind of record. by Gray Wright, Keeper

Gray clapped happily when Thomas stole the Quaffle from between Crotalus Dude and Crotalus Girl, but quickly found, to his dismay, that he had celebrated too soon. Thomas managed to stall the Crotalus progression toward the Aladren goals, but not to stop it; somehow, they lost the ball to Small Crotalus, who appeared to be ready to try for a shot.

But he looked on the bright side. At least it was Small Crotalus, who presumably wasn’t as good as Larger Crotali. She was clearly going left, and –

Wait, what had just happened? Where was the ball?

He realized that he’d been fooled by a firstie a second too late; though he lunged for it, and got close enough that his fingertips brushed the Quaffle, all he accomplished was to knock it into the side of the goal hoop and therefore further away from him before it went through anyway. He ended up having to grab the hoop for a second to keep from falling off his broom until his lower half caught up with the upper – the game was actually affecting him; normally, he would never have even tried that move, because he’d have been smart enough to know it would mean potentially falling to his death – before swinging away from it to grab the slowly-falling Quaffle. Bless Daisy Pennifold.

It was a setback, not a loss. Charlie Abbott was good, but she was also a priority target, so surely Edmond or Devlin would put enough of the fear into her soon for her to not risk being the shooter as much, or just keep the Quaffle out of her hands enough for the whole thing not to be an issue. Heck, the Chasers could do that without backup from the Beaters. Deciding to worry about being disturbed at being able to think strategically later, Gray threw the ball back into the action, aiming, as intently as he’d ever aimed anything in his life, including jinxes in Defense class, for an Aladren Chaser.

16 Gray Wright, Keeper Two seconds. It must be some kind of record. 113 Gray Wright, Keeper 0 5

Marissa Stephenson,Seeker

December 20, 2010 3:18 PM

It's not very nice at all. by Marissa Stephenson,Seeker

The last thing Marissa did before joining the team for the pre-match gathering and speeches was tie her long brown hair back at the base of her neck in a ponytail holder just tight enough to hold it reliably but not so tight that it pulled at her hairline and hurt. Quidditch wasn’t nearly large enough in her life for her to consider chopping it all off, but she didn’t want it flying loose to hit her in the face during the game, and the less time it had to relax out of its tie, the better.

She had been able to believe she was winning against Teppenpaw – their Seeker was a first year, poor thing – and practice in the full expectation of making it to it, but now that they were really here, it was still somehow amazing to look around her and notice that they were at the Quidditch Championship. This was, for some people, the event of the year at Sonora, and a big one even for people who preferred the variety concert for top spot. The honor of the Houses rode on this one, as well as maybe the points competition.

Those were reasons why it was also more than a little terrifying. She was expected to beat Jera Valson, who, in addition to just being good, had been playing Quidditch longer than Marissa had been at Sonora. Longer, as Charlie pointed out, than any of them had actually been at Sonora. Aladren was the only team in the school with more than one seventh year on it, and the only other team with a seventh year on it wasn’t playing. Thomas Fitzgerald and Jera Valson were going to be positively dangerous today, and even Grayson Wright had to care about it on some level. She didn’t come up as often now, but his older sister or cousin or whatever had still been occasionally mentioned when Quidditch came up when Marissa joined the Crotalus team, two years after she left the school. That kind of thing, in her experience with Paige, was kind of infectious.

And even the younger Aladren players weren’t bad. She knew Daniel a little from classes, not enough to call them friends but enough to know he was just generally focused on whatever it was he did, and while Edmond was constantly nice and polite, even solicitous, he was a big guy. If he wanted to do some damage with that bat, damage was likely to be done. She wasn’t expecting a throwaway match.

Neither, it seemed, was Charlie. She didn’t seem too concerned about Nic being so new, and for good reason – Crotalus, it seemed, always had an advantage when it came to Chasers; Marissa could only assume it was something to do with ‘respectable member of society’ usually meaning ‘person capable of social interaction and cooperation,’ which suited them more to the cooperative positions than Aladren independence would – but she was risk-assessing pretty much the entire Aladren team, much as Marissa had done in her head. Seeing herself agreeing with the captain made her feel slightly better about the day when she’d have to be the one giving these directions and encouragements before the game.

She knew the rules by heart by now – memorizing them had been one of the first things she’d done once she realized Helena Layne was really not going to let her out of playing; she remembered how irritated she’d been by the failure of every book she read to mention the full list of fouls, even after she realized they must include things even less likely than ‘attacking another player with a battle-axe’ – so Coach Pierce’s speech was largely extraneous except for the part where Charlie shook hands with Thomas Fitzgerald. Marissa loved ceremony, and the idea of good sportsmanship was appealing to her, too.

As almost everyone else began paying attention to the battle over the Quaffle, Marissa went higher in the air, scanning for a flash of gold and taking little interest in the battle other than to hope Crotalus kept the ball and that the Chasers spread out soon so she could have at least a shot of spotting the Snitch if it was anywhere near the main action of the game. All too soon, though, her concentration was interrupted by the whistling of a Bludger.

Marissa jerked her broom up and over out of the way at the last second, so close she felt the iron ball stir her robes and – though she was less sure if it was a real effect instead of her mind playing tricks on her – graze her ankle. Either way, though, it was far too close; Bludgers were enchanted to attack whoever was nearest, which meant it might well be turning back on her at any second. Still gasping slightly from the shock, she flew away, hoping that one of her team’s Beaters would show up quickly and hit the Bludger away from her, or that an Aladren would drift into its path somehow.

16 Marissa Stephenson,Seeker It's not very nice at all. 147 Marissa Stephenson,Seeker 0 5

Coach Amelia Pierce

December 21, 2010 8:53 AM

Goal! 10 points to Crotalus! by Coach Amelia Pierce

[Also, nice merge, Charlie. Play on, guys.]

1 Coach Amelia Pierce Goal! 10 points to Crotalus! 20 Coach Amelia Pierce 0 5

Daniel Nash II, Chaser

December 21, 2010 9:19 AM

Gotta make up for that by Daniel Nash II, Chaser

Daniel was having an off day. He hadn't thought so when he woke up, of course. His hair had conformed to its styling charms without any difficulty. The Cascade Hall was serving his favorite kind of pre-game fare - toast lightly sprinkled with cinnamon, fresh apples, and apple cider. He'd managed to largely avoid James Anthony when he had need to be in their shared dorm, and his uniform and broom were all ready to go, freshly pressed (the uniform) and well-maintained (the broom).

He even made it down to the pitch with time to spare and found the weather was nigh on near to perfect for a Quidditch game. Thomas's speech was everything he would have expected of the school's Head Boy. Then the game began and the day went to pieces.

Charlie had gotten to the Quaffle first, which wasn't the worst thing that could have happened, but even with them being so tightly packed, Daniel had failed his intercept attempt when she passed to Sam Bauer. He'd then somehow let that little twerp come out from nowhere when Thomas tried to pass to him and then he hadn't even been able to get in her way to stop her from throwing it to Charlie.

As if in punishment for all these missed chances, Gray was also forced to have as bad a Quidditch day as Daniel was having, and Aladren's Keeper was unable to block Charlie's shot.

Then Gray recovered the ball and tossed it in Daniel's direction. Fortunately, the worst of their luck seemed to be over. Daniel caught it easily, and turned his broom around, back toward the Crotalus Goals.

It was redemption time.

His broom was the best money could buy and he'd been using it for just over a year now, so he milked it for all the speed it could give him. Not daring to hold on to the ball for too long though, he passed it on to another Aladren Chaser when he was almost to the middle of the pitch.

With any luck (and surely it was Aladren's turn for some luck), his teammate would catch it without any interference.

1 Daniel Nash II, Chaser Gotta make up for that 130 Daniel Nash II, Chaser 0 5

Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser

December 21, 2010 11:37 PM

Yes, we do by Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser

His pass had fallen into the hands of a Crotalus Chaser.

His pass had fallen into the hands of a Crotalus Chaser.

Thomas was not pleased.

He became even less pleased when it proved impossible to get the ball back before the Crotalus Chaser in question appeared ready to make a move on the goals. Luckily, though not entirely unexpectedly given her age, it looked like it was going to be a straightforward shot, something Gray could block without a great deal of difficulty….

And then she tricked them. If the pass to Charlotte had come a second earlier, Thomas was sure he could have reacted and stolen the ball back at the very edge of the scoring area, but the timing was perfect. And since Thomas knew he was much quicker to notice and react to a situation than Gray was, he was sure, before it even happened, that the shot was going to make it.

It did, but he was impressed with Gray’s effort. Impressed, and a little scared. He hadn’t thought Wright had it in him; if he’d been a respectable member of society, his level of caution, on most days, would have landed in him in Crotalus for sure. Where he would have been knifed in a fortnight, tops, but that was beside the point. The Quaffle was back in play, with Daniel taking lead.

Well, good. Thomas had suspected he’d be a future captain for some time, and had been trying to subtly bring him along even before Jera’s year-jump gave him an early assistant captainship. The more practice he got at leading plays, the better; between Geoff Layne having a few issues and Paul Tarwater being more or less a walking issue, Thomas had never gotten much before he became captain, and he was sure it had hindered his overall effectiveness.

Daniel was also bold; his broom was fast, which explained some of it, but most people wouldn’t try going half the pitch in one. Thomas wasn’t complaining, though; it made it that much easier for Aladren to make up ground on the Crotali. The only players who truly mattered, as he made an effort to impress on his Beaters, were the Seekers, but still, it wouldn’t do to let people think the Crotali were better than his Chasers.

His broom wasn’t quite as good as his assistant’s, but he did his best to replicate the feat, weaving back and forth and going up and down to avoid Bludgers in case his defense didn’t manage to keep them both contained. He decided – he hoped not fatally – to pass it off after covering about three quarters of the remaining distance of the new Crotalus Keeper. As much as he’d like to be noted for such a play, his broom wasn’t as good as Daniel’s, and even if they were intercepted at this point, the Crotali cooperated very well. That meant there would be at least one chance to steal back before they even got out of their own territory, and maybe more than one. He didn’t go in for anything very fancy with the pass, instead just aiming to get it to the nearest Aladren Chaser across the shortest, most Crotalus-free distance he thought he could reasonably count on.

0 Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser Yes, we do 0 Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser 0 5

Edmond Carey, Beater

December 21, 2010 11:48 PM

Doing my part to help with that by Edmond Carey, Beater

Edmond decided to take the results of his first play of the game as a draw. Marissa hadn’t been disabled, but she was on the run, which would do for the moment.

Meanwhile, Crotalus had scored a goal. He frowned, disappointed. They could easily make the points up, and even if they couldn’t, Jera could override it all in a moment, but he didn’t like it when the winning team wasn’t winning before their Seeker caught the Snitch. It made all of the real action – he supposed he was still a Chaser at heart – seem irrelevant; if it was really just a contest between Jera and Marissa, why were the Chasers and Keepers even here? Beaters would still have a function, but everyone else could be off studying for their exams.

There was, of course, the obvious reason – Quidditch was a money sport outside of schools, sometimes even in them, and watching two people look for something while two other people defended each of the first two people while trying to hurt the Seeker they didn’t support would be dull. Audiences would not pay for that, so Chasers had retained their function. Edmond hated studying economics, not because he found it difficult, or because Jane, with her penchant for numbers, was better at it than he was, but because he often found it deeply depressing. Everything was about money. There was no consideration for quality or functionality or even beauty. Just money.

He wanted to hit something, just to vent his feelings for a moment. Half-trusting Devlin to cover Jera for a moment – he would keep one eye on her himself, not so much because he doubted the younger boy’s skills as because he had taken Thomas’ instruction to them both to keep her safe as a personal charge – he appraised the situation below, flew to intercept another Bludger, and hit it as hard as he could toward the Crotalus he thought was most likely to try to sabotage either a pass or the goal clearly approaching.

0 Edmond Carey, Beater Doing my part to help with that 0 Edmond Carey, Beater 0 5

Daniel Nash II

December 22, 2010 8:29 PM

Keeping it up by Daniel Nash II

Given Thomas's erratic course as he avoided potential bludgers and opposing Chasers, Daniel's more straightforward route got him to a position near the goals ahead of the Captain. He fell back a little as Thomas got nearer, hoping to find spot where there weren't many Crotali in the way of a pass, and soon found one.

Thomas made the throw and Daniel made the catch and it was classic. A part of his mind cheered that the bad luck was over for a second before another part of his mind battered down the first part for potentially jinxing it. Most of his thoughts, however, were on moving a little closer to the goal and lining up a shot.

It was a new kid as Keeper, but he was backed up by some of the best Chasers in the school. Since it was as much the older Crotali that he'd need to get his shot past as the tall second year, Daniel decided to try a double fake out. He made it obvious he was aiming for the center goal, then made as if to change his mind and throw it toward the left, and then, just before letting go, he changed direction again, and threw it at the right-most hoop.

And then he held his breath to see if it worked.

1 Daniel Nash II Keeping it up 130 Daniel Nash II 0 5

Charlotte Abbott, Chaser

January 03, 2011 11:52 AM

Keeping it interesting by Charlotte Abbott, Chaser

The shot had made it! Charlie was ecstatic that Gray hadn't saved it, but then again, it had been a great pass-and-shoot. Even a Keeper with more skill than Grayson might have been thwarted, which just went to show what a great team Crotalus had. Of course, after the score, the Quaffle was in Aladren's hands, and Charlie hated it when that happened. Moreover, it was travelling down the pitch in the direction of Nic, their stand-in Keeper. It was never good to have the Quaffle going to wrong way, but when it was going the wrong way towards someone who had never played Keeper, even in practise, and Charlie thought her anxiety might be understandable.

Chasing that Quaffle down the pitch was no easy feat; even as she flew flat out on her broom, heading on to try and intercept while Reneé or Sam would hopefully hang back to catch a pass if Charlie did intercept, the Crotalus captain acknowledged that Daniel was going super fast. His broom was probably the best money could buy, considering his family background. Charlie's own broom was decent enough, and paid for by her Uncle Raymond, but it wasn't top of the league by any means. She was pushing it hard to get down the other end of the pitch before the Quaffle got anywhere neat those goals.

Keeping an eye on the red ball at all times, Charlie saw it passed to Thomas, and then back again. She was gaining on Daniel now, but was over to his side. He was gaining on the goals. He might make another pass, but he might try and shoot. charlie didn't know which was more likely, but coming in from the side she did her best to make sure it didn't happen. Planning on surging in from the side, swooping the Quaffle up just as it left Daniel's hands and taking it back up the pitch, Charlie didn't notice the Bludger coming in from her other side until it was close enough to mess up her plans. It was one of those moments where time seems to stand still for a short while, as if it wants to give you space to make the right decision. Already on her course to intercept, Charlie continued on, praying that metal ball wouldn't catch up with her.

Mentally crossing her fingers, Charlie watched the ball leave Daniel's hand, stretched out her own arm to curl it in, and then she found herself being flipped uncontrolably through the air as the Bludger made contact with the back of her broom. Returning her hand to the handle to cling on for dear life while she waited for her broom to stop spinning, Charlie knew she'd touched the Quaffle, that she'd hit it out of the way. She didn't hold onto it, though, and now it was probably falling towards the ground. She wasn't sure she'd done much to improve the situation, and she might have damaged her broom into the bargain. Where had her Beaters been? She was going to kill the pair of them.

0 Charlotte Abbott, Chaser Keeping it interesting 0 Charlotte Abbott, Chaser 0 5

Jera Valson, Aladren Seeker

January 03, 2011 3:35 PM

I'll meet that interest, and raise you a win. by Jera Valson, Aladren Seeker

Quidditch could be repetetive if you played it too often. look for the Snitch, catch the Snitch. Then again, look for the Snitch, catch the Snitch. Luckily, Jera enjoyed the flying, and especially on a beautiful day like this. So long as she avoided the Bludgers, all the had to do was fly around and catch the ball before Marissa. There was no better way to spend her weekend, really. As for those Bludgers, they seemed to be coming after Marissa, rather than Aladren's Seeker. Looks like her team's Beaters were pulling their strength on the pitch today. Unfortunately, the Cotalus Chasers seemed to be pulling theirs, too. Not that Jera was playing a huge amount of attention to the game (she was supposed to be looking for the Snitch, after all) but she heard the crowds and the whistle and the announcement that Crotalus had scored. Poor Gray, he tried so hard in practises, and Jera knew he'd gotten so much better recently. She knew he'd catch the next one (she was assuming there would be a next one because the Crotalus Chasers really did seem to have things sorted).

Then again, maybe there wouldn't be another one. It seemed unlikely that she'd see the Snitch on her first glimpse so early on in the game, but Jera could have sworn she'd just seen a tiny golden ball fluttering over the other side of the pitch. unfortunately, from where they were both positioned, if jera went sraight to the Snitch now, Marissa would definitely see her. Jera had to rely on her skills and experience here if she wanted to win the game; the Crotalus Seeker was good, but Jera knew she was better.

Keeping half an eye on the other Seeker, and her ears open to Bludgers, Jera kept the majority of her focus on that shimmering gold at the other side of the pitch, and she carefully made her way over to it, trying her very best to look like she was still searching so Marissa wouldn't see it. However, there was only so long she could keep this up. the Snitch might move, Marissa might see it anyway and make a dash for it - she was still closer. Choosing her moment carefully, Jera suddenly laid flat on her broom, urging it forward as fast as humanly possible. She knew it would oly be a matter of time before the other Seeker was alerted, so she really had to get to the Snitch as fast as she could. She could still see it, taunting and gold and glittery, becoming ever closer and clearer in her vision. Her heartbeat was so fast and hard it was pounding in her chest, making her feel sick with the exhileration. She reached out her arm, leant even further forward on her broom, preparing herself from the catch. She was terrified that any moment she would be ambushed by Bludgers, or Mariisa's hand would appear in her vision and squash her dream flat.

None of these things happened. Jera's fingers touched the Snitched, her hand closed over it, her fist closed round it, and she tugged her broom handle to soar right up into the sky, momentarily forgetting about the Bludgers, with her fist held high above her head as she let out a victorious whoop for the Aladren team.

0 Jera Valson, Aladren Seeker I'll meet that interest, and raise you a win. 0 Jera Valson, Aladren Seeker 0 5

Coach Amelia Pierce

January 03, 2011 4:50 PM

Aladren Wins! 150-10 (nm) by Coach Amelia Pierce

1 Coach Amelia Pierce Aladren Wins! 150-10 (nm) 20 Coach Amelia Pierce 0 5

Coach Amelia Pierce

Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus by Coach Amelia Pierce

<font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

I'm not sure how nice this is, but I digress by <font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

<font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>

Nothing like a Championship by <font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font>

Why am I here again? by <font color="red">Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font>

<font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

Especially one we win. by <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

<font color="blue">Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser</font>

Don't count your chickens too soon by <font color="blue">Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

That's a definite then? by <font color="red">Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

<font color="blue">Grayson Wright, Keeper</font>

Hey, that's my line. by <font color="blue">Grayson Wright, Keeper</font>

<font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>

Merging some posts by <font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>

<font color="blue">Jera Valson, Seeker</font>

Once more to the... pitch. by <font color="blue">Jera Valson, Seeker</font>

<font color="blue">Gray Wright, Keeper</font>

Two seconds. It must be some kind of record. by <font color="blue">Gray Wright, Keeper</font>

<font color="red">Marissa Stephenson,Seeker</font>

It's not very nice at all. by <font color="red">Marissa Stephenson,Seeker</font>

Coach Amelia Pierce

Goal! 10 points to Crotalus! by Coach Amelia Pierce

<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II, Chaser</font>

Gotta make up for that by <font color="blue">Daniel Nash II, Chaser</font>

<font color="blue">Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser</font>

Yes, we do by <font color="blue">Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser</font>

<font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

Doing my part to help with that by <font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II</font>

Keeping it up by <font color="blue">Daniel Nash II</font>

<font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>

Keeping it interesting by <font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>

Jera Valson, Aladren Seeker

I'll meet that interest, and raise you a win. by Jera Valson, Aladren Seeker

Coach Amelia Pierce

Aladren Wins! 150-10 (nm) by Coach Amelia Pierce