Captain Sam Bauer

August 24, 2012 9:58 AM
When Sam had posted the sign-up sheet and held the tryouts and started the practices last year, he had been sure that it was the year when they were finally going to beat Aladren. David Wilkes was too weird to lead the voices in his head on top of being too Muggleborn to have much of a chance of keeping a team full of Careys and Stratfords and stuff in line, and they had been, for the first time since their winning streak began, bereft of Edmond Carey, the Beater who’d been essential to a lot of their success. Victory had been so close that he had seen it just around the corners when he walked down the hallways, dreamed about it in his bed at night, tasted it when he ate his breakfast. It had been their year.

Until it hadn’t been, anyway. They had plowed over Teppenpaw no problem, as usual, except for the one girl he was dismissing as at least part-hallucination since no one could have actually dodged that many attempts of Topher’s to flatten her, and then Aladren had wiped the floor with them, also as was increasingly, depressingly, usual. Sam had only refrained from kicking something right there on the Pitch afterward because he was completely stunned; later, in his room, he had, and had ended up cursing from a combination of both frustration and the pretty bad pain in his toe where it had slammed into his trunk. It had been going so well, and then it had all gone wrong, and he still didn’t even know why. They had had every possible advantage – they had even had a new Seeker, one of the newest in the whole school, when everyone knew those had been winning lately – and they’d lost anyway. He was beginning to wonder if the rich purebloods had somehow fixed the games, bought off Pierce to rig the Snitch or something.

If they had, then there was very little chance that Crotalus could overcome, but he refused to accept that there was no chance. And didn’t seriously believe it anyway. If nothing else, it was the Crotalus Head of House Quidditch coach’s reputation on the line every time they lost, too. If she ever needed another job, that wouldn’t look good on her record.

After the Feast, he left the Hall as fast as his Head Boyly dignity allowed, heading for the Crotalus commons and the bulletin board within in the hopes that he would be the first captain to get a sign-up sheet on the wall. If a horde of overexcited and sleep-deprived first years signed up as a group because they didn’t think it through that well on their first night, he had no problem being the mean seventh year who held them to it later. A warm body on the bench was a warm body on the bench if things got too out of hand.

Crotalus Quidditch Team Try-Outs


Crotalus Quidditch try-outs are coming soon (date to follow) and the Rattlers need you for our best season yet. Sign up today and let’s bring that Quidditch Cup back to where it belongs.

- Sam Bauer, Captain.


He’d written out a proper sign-up for himself beneath that, to give everyone a good idea of how it was done: Sam Bauer, 7th, Chaser. After looking over it one more time to make sure there were no spelling errors or places where the ink was smudged or anything else like that, he posted it and then headed for bed, knowing he needed sleep tonight to start a long year tomorrow.
Subthreads:
16 Captain Sam Bauer Quidditch Sign-Ups! 163 Captain Sam Bauer 1 5


Cepheus Princeton

August 24, 2012 8:22 PM
Last year, Cepheus had been so disappointed when the Crotalus team hadn't won the finals. They had been so close in a sense. He had blamed everything under the sun from the Aladrens to the Snitch itself, but in the end he could only blame his broom. There was no mistake about it. If only his broom had gone faster, then he would've made it.

Father, however, had disagreed. There had been a long lecture before going to school about doing his best with what he had. And besides, his broom was one of the fastest models around. That meant little to Cepheus if it didn't get him the Snitch, but this year was going to be his year. He was not going to fail his teammates and he was not going to allow Aladren to win another year. He was going to be the bloody good Seeker Crotalus needed. With that, he signed his name on the Quidditch sign-up sheet with finesse.

Cepheus Princeton, 3rd year, Seeker

If his brother was going to join the Pecari team, Cepheus most definitely did not want Crotalus to lose. Even if Cepheus was better than his younger brother in several ways, he had to admit that Rupert was not a bad Beater and he didn't have the mercy that other younger Beaters could have. It was a bit frightening, but Cepheus was not going to let his brother stand in the way of his prize.
40 Cepheus Princeton Sign Me Up. 216 Cepheus Princeton 0 5


Henry Carey

August 25, 2012 9:05 PM
“Huh,” Henry Carey said, the sound tied up in a muffled laugh, as he read the introduction to the Quidditch sign-up list. Best season yet. Bringing the Cup back where it belonged – those were funny statements. There was only so much good which could occur in the brief seasons they had here, so it was difficult to have a best yet, and common opinion had it that the Sonora Quidditch Cup belonged with Aladren, where it had been for a long time; Arnold and Arthur thought it belonged there, and his brother, he supposed, and Tony, too. They would consider Mr. Bauer’s statement contrary to fact.

He wondered what they would consider him. The conditions of his existence – he was a Carey, he was male – implied he, like the Quidditch Cup, should be in Aladren, but in his case the conditions had not produced the expected result. Instead he was in Crotalus. There had been others like him, a few; it had not ended well. No one in the family had told him what they thought yet; they didn’t, when they thought it might make him upset now. No doubt they thought it wouldn’t end well, even though the Louisiana girl had yet to do anything too horrific at school.

Regardless of that, though, he was here, and so was the list. He had to sign up, of course. He was a Carey, and he was male. Those conditions implied it was a fact that he would play Quidditch at Sonora; Jay did, and he didn’t even like the game. Henry didn’t, either, but he was better at it than his brother was. So he would sign up, even if it was for the wrong side.

Henry L. Carey, First Year, Beater.
0 Henry Carey Here for the party 239 Henry Carey 0 5


Paul Bennett

August 25, 2012 9:06 PM
It would, Paul thought, be putting it mildly to say he was surprised to find himself as one of the first people in front of the Quidditch sign-up list. He didn’t even know how such a thing had happened; he usually didn’t notice the thing until it had been up a week, and then didn’t agree to return as an alternate until the night before the tryouts, if he didn’t just show up the next day without warning, the way he had last year. Today, he had been walking out the door with nothing on his mind but the possibility of a sandwich when for some reason – maybe he had meant to check the password? – the sheet had caught his attention.

He looked it over. As far as motivational pitches went, he thought Samuel’s was neither the best nor the worst ever coined, but that it leaned more toward the second choice than the first, especially if it was taken completely out of context and just looked at. In context, the message was a little clearer – Paul was pretty sure it ran to the tune of let’s end Aladren or something very similar – but still, it was still pretty generic. An infusion of first years who barely knew one end of a broom from another would give them more people if the opposing Beaters were especially vicious this year, sure, but numbers would just mean more cases for the already overworked Head of House medic to take care of if the new people weren’t actually more skilled than the old ones. Hence, no ‘best season ever’ would occur; if they got fifteen people’s heads cracked open in a game designed for fourteen and didn’t score once, they might even call it the worst season ever.

Paul shook his head. This was why he hated it when he was in pedantic moods. Marketing, his father would say, was marketing; some people did it better than others, but it all basically said the same thing. He should just on some level appreciate that Sam was being up-front about it, and respond by being the same way, this once. So he found something to write with and put down, feeling as if he’d been caught somehow but being a good sport about it anyway, his name and his year and his desired (non-) positions.

Paul Bennett, 4th Year, Alternate preferred, Beater if needed
0 Paul Bennett Here to watch you all, hopefully 201 Paul Bennett 0 5


Topher Calhoun

August 25, 2012 9:58 PM
The occasional glitter of his prefect’s badge in his peripheral vision kept catching Topher by surprise at random moments, but by and large, he thought he was adjusting well to his new status and not letting it blind him to the rest of reality, as he’d always assumed some newly-coined prefects did. He was still able to think about, remember, things that had nothing to do with his position, such as the Quidditch team.
 
If Topher had been asked, a few months earlier, to name one thing he wanted in his years at Sonora, he never would have thought of being prefect. He had assumed that office would go to Fae. The thing he would have named instead would have been the Quidditch captain’s badge. He had spent the past two years at least thinking in terms of the moment he hoped would come at the end of this year, the one when he got the Assistant’s badge in preparation for the day when the real thing was his. A year as Renée’s gopher before that was, in his mind, just part of the dues he’d have to pay to get what he wanted. He had no delusions about becoming a professional Beater, but by Sonora standards, he thought he did well, and he wanted to see some return for all that, to have something his mother could brag to her friends about. That he had gotten something she could do that with a year earlier than planned didn’t really affect his ambition, because he thought he’d do a lot better as a captain than he ever would as a prefect, even given the strangely small number of purebloods in the group right now.
 
When he noticed the list above the glitter of his badge, then, Topher didn’t hesitate. For the fifth time, he walked over to a list and took out a quill – when he was captain, he decided, he was going to put a self-inking one, or at least a pencil, on a string or something so that everyone wouldn’t have to dig around for writing implements, or maybe go to get a quill and then forget that they had planned to sign up while they were looking in their rooms – and put his information down, all in his best handwriting. It would look more professional if the Coach got a look at it, and it would make sure that everyone knew it was him.
 
Topher Calhoun, 5th year, Beater
 
Looking over the list, he saw ‘Beater’ for both a first year and as Paul’s backup option, but he wasn’t worried. Things hadn’t been spectacular, from a Beater’s angle, at the Teppenpaw game last year for him, but he thought his record outweighed one bad game. He hadn’t been able to stop Edmond Carey from hurting Crotalus Seekers in those days, but he had given as good to Aladren as Crotalus got, and it had always been close because of those injuries. That had to count for something.
0 Topher Calhoun Furthering my ambitious plans. 192 Topher Calhoun 0 5

Nic Sawyer

August 27, 2012 11:26 AM
Nic had always been pretty good at sports, back in muggle school. He had long legs that could eat long distances like candy. Though lacking in large weight lifting muscles, he had always been among the first students chosen for gym teams because most sports didn't care so much about strength if you could just outrun everyone else, which Nic could. Had he not come to Sonora, he thoght he might have eventually joined the varsity track team.

His first few years on Crotalus' Quidditch Team had been something of a blow to his athletic pride. He probably would have quit altogether if Charlie hadn't badgered and bribed him back after his worst ever showing in a school game.

He had bee determined not to ever let that happen again. He had trained with the team, and he had trained on his own time, and he had gotten a broom better designed for someone of his height, and it had worked. He had improved, slowly at first, then, last year, it had all fallen together. The training, his growth spurts finally leveling off enough that he knew exactly where his fingers ended
now, and just having one of the longest wingspans in the school, and even some instictive Sight predictions had all joined together so he played his best ever game against Teppenpaw last year.

There had been one that he'd been on the wrong side for, but Sam had covered him nicely, and that last throw had slipped just beyond his fingers, but Cepheus had caught the snitch just in time and it hadn't counted.

Aladren's game in the final had been relatively tamer, and the Quaffle had spent almost the entire game crossing back and forth over the center line, making it easy for both him and David on the far side to keep the game scoreless until the Snitch got caught.

So with a previous season with no goals scored against Crotalus, Nic felt no doubt about adding his name to the list hanging on the bulletin board, even if Rachel wouldn't be in the stands to watch him this year.


Nic Sawyer, Seventh, Keeper




1 Nic Sawyer One last time 165 Nic Sawyer 0 5


Linus Macaulay

August 30, 2012 2:23 AM
despite it having become part of his annual routine by now, it still surprised Linus when he returned home for the summer how sharply his own education was thrown into relief against the mundanity of his siblings' term time. Linus knew what his strengths had been as a Muggle: he'd been good at Math, and English, and he's liked geography. He'd played softball, and had been hoping one day to join the baseball team at high school. He'd been popular, and reasonably well-off. The same still held more or less true for his brothers, though Jonah favored the sciences and had started to play football, and Philip was more adept at art. However, Linus had Sonora to contend with, and things were different here. Although his personal fortunes had not changed, he was decidedly middle-of-the-road financially; a great deal of students' families seemed to have a great deal of money. It was as if all the high rollers had unanimously selected this school for their offspring. Plus there were no Math or English classes, but Linus had found he excelled at charms and defense against the dark arts. Then there was Quidditch.

In his first year, Linus had been unfamiliar with the sport. Then, encouraged by his roommate's regard for the sport, he had signed up in his second year and somehow made the team. He had been awful. In fact, he might even have termed his debut as excruciating, and he ought to have given it up there and then. Linus was not accustomed to performing at a sub-par standard in anything. Yet neither was he accustomed to giving up. Therefore he had signed up again and again, and put in a decent number of hours of practise each week, and towards the end of last year he thoguht he might actually have been improving. Not sufficiently for his House to have won the Cup, but then that wasn't really judged on the merit of just one Chaser. Regardless, Linus (along with some of the other players on last year's team) had certainly developed his talents, and he now felt worthy of a position on the Crotalus team.

When he noticed that Sam Bauer had posted the sign-up sheet, Linus didn't have to think twice before adding his details: Linus Macaulay, fourth year, Chaser. By now he thought the Chasing team really worked together as such, and the Keeper had finally improved to be thought of as an obstacle for the opposition. Briefly scanning the other names that were already on the list, Linus thought that, first year Beater potential aside, they genuinely had a good chance at winning that championship this year; Aladren's victory was not inevitable.
0 Linus Macaulay Answering your call 205 Linus Macaulay 0 5


Gareth Whitebriar

September 02, 2012 5:21 PM
There was a brief moment when Gareth thought about not signing up. Enion was here now, he loved to fly, loved to play, surely one Whitebriar playing was enough? But no, the thought was dismissed almost as quickly as it appeared. He knew that his father would be incredibly displeased if he chose not to play, and Gareth would rather deal with his fear of flight than his father in a temper. The fact that Crotalus had yet to win against Aladren was already a bone in his father’s throat. It wouldn’t help that his little brother had joined the house that hadn’t come close to winning in ages. At least Crotalus regularly made it to the finals, even if Aladren always thrashed them in the end.

This year will be different he thought half-heartedly. Maybe they’d get lucky and the whole Aladren team would come down with Dragon Pox the morning of the finals and have to forfeit. Anything was possible really. At least he was still growing, he might even end up rivaling the famed Edmond Carey when all was said and done. Maybe then Crotalus would start winning.

Shaking off his dower thoughts of another year of Quidditch, Gareth signed his name.

Gareth Whitebriar, Third year Beater
0 Gareth Whitebriar Here we go again 0 Gareth Whitebriar 0 5