Geoffrey Layne

May 04, 2009 11:56 AM
If Anne was up-to-date with events at Sonora, Geoff now had a very good reason to avoid Anne as assiduously as Anne had been avoiding him. Though he pinned the Quidditch captain's badge right next to the Head Boy's badge on his robes every morning, it took him until the third day of the semester to realize he was actually supposed to put up the tryout sheet in the common room. This, he was sure, would be grounds for attention in Anne-land, and not the good kind.

With the thought of being chased around with his own bat on his mind to encourage him, he scrawled out a tryouts notice while eating his lunch. Because he was an overachiever with the common sense of a gnat, he'd elected to continue taking Ancient Runes independently, which was even harder than the real class had been, and his schedule was already packed to the brim. A few more weeks, and he might even have to go so far as to invest in a day planner.

The notice went up after dinner. He could only hope it was not doomed to remain perpetually blank.

Aladren Quidditch


Tryouts for this year's Aladren Hawks will occur next Saturday. If you're interested in getting or taking back any position on the team, sign your name, year, and what position you want on this sheet.

Because of school rules, tryouts are only open to students in second year and above. Sorry, first years.


- Geoffrey Layne, Captain

Beneath this were a series of lines. On the first line was Geoff's sign-up:

Geoffrey Layne, Year 7, Beater
Subthreads:
16 Geoffrey Layne Aladren Quidditch Sign-Ups 72 Geoffrey Layne 1 5


Paul Tarwater

May 12, 2009 11:45 AM
After last year, Paul Tarwater highly doubted that he would be allowed to have any major seat on the team. He doubted Layne would trust him with a Beaters bat, and he really doubted that people would hold back their laughter seeing the boy that hit the stupid Quaffle instead of the stupid Bludger so stupidly. As it was, though, Paul was still a sucker for things being normal. And things were far from normal, as they had started going off track a few years ago. But he was stubborn, determined to pull himself back on track. Maybe sleep a little more, if he could manage, stop shaking so much, stop being so afraid of every shadow.

Speaking of which, what was that? His eyes flicked and his arms tensed, Lussni yowled softly in his arms as Paul pulled the odd cat's patch of fur. The old man only had one left, and Paul murmured an apology to his cat, seeing that the "feared enemy" was only some new student stumbling around. He had a lot of work to do on himself, really. Paul pushed the black from his eyes and looked at the Quidditch board. He was just fooling himself with all this, really, there was no way that this would pull him back into normality. The apocalypse was already set to happen soon, as Paul kept blaming everything on any sort of "end of the world" he had read about.

Paul Tarwater. Sixth Year. Beaterif you'll keep me.

But Aladren needed people. That was his reasoning. And if they needed people, they may need him. No, that was doubtful. He was just fooling himself here, this stupid game didn't need him at all. Normal wasn't going to happen. But as it went in the boy's mind, he was stubborn, set on not changing. And there it lay, Paul hoisted Lussni up in his arms. "You're getting fat," he told the cat, walking away from the board, pretending like he hadn't just put his name up there for the world to see.
0 Paul Tarwater Mistakes. 0 Paul Tarwater 0 5