I'll do my bit on Quidditch Pitch

Paul Tarwater

November 18, 2009 12:37 PM

Aladren Quidditch Try-Outs : Walk-ons needed by Paul Tarwater

Paul hadn’t gotten many people to sign up for Aladren, and he felt the frustration from this. That oh the pressure! Make it stop! feeling that he often felt when… well always actually. He disliked being put into such positions of leadership, such as Captian and Prefect, he was a surefire screwup, proof given time and time again. And yet, they still gave him these positions. It made Paul wish that there were more Aladrens, more to choose for such “important academic” positions. And also more people to sign up, so he stopped feeling like such a failure.

Awkwardly, the dark haired boy stood on the pitch, at the time Coach Pierce had allotted for him. Three people he was sure he had, Thomas Fitzgerald, an assistant captain who he didn’t know well enough to picture, Jera Valson, their previous Seeker, and Daniel Nash… All returning players. Paul didn’t want to say it, but they’d been hurt when the previous years left.

They’d been hurt when they chose him to be captain. He coughed, clearing his throat, fingers playing across the splintered wood of his old broom and bat. The boy looked down at the carrier he‘d brought out, holding the needed balls for the game. It was open and moving at his feet, the Bludgers ready to bludgeon and the Snitch ready to be sought. “Hey, hello everyone.” He could only hope enough people showed, thank Merlin for walk-ons, and cringing internally he also thought, and I suppose I’ll have to thank him for the bulk of first years too? But no, he shouldn’t be going quite that far yet. “Hi. I’m Paul Tarwater, your… your captain this year.”

How obvious was it by the tone of his voice that he still couldn’t connect himself with captain. Be thankful, Aladren, that he had some sort of motivation here. The motivation to not embarrass himself in front of the school again. “If you didn’t sign up,” he held up the sheet, “That’s okay.” His voice dull, making it hard to decide whether it was really okay or not. “Just come to me and I’ll place you. Or… if you want to change, or something,” again, this was hard for him. Paul Tarwater and public speaking, ahah hah hah. “But for now, I’m beater, Jera’s back as Seeker, and Thomas and Daniel are Chasers. Keeper, we really need a Keeper, and another Beater and Chaser.” But Keeper, you couldn’t play without the Keeper, that just wasn’t fair.

He coughed, cursing the fact that he rarely used his voice. “We’ll… we’ll warm up for now,” does that sound okay? The question begged. “Thomas and Danny, if you could switch off Keeper for now until I find one, and try to make and block each other?” He held out the Quaffle motioned to the hoops. “And… Jera,” he pointed to the snitch, “Whenever you’re ready, release it and… well you know.” He wasn’t a seeker for a reason.

He also didn’t make speeches for a reason. And… well, you know.

“I’ll be sorting things out, answering questions,” as if he was an authority, “But I’ll hop up in a few… in a few minutes with a Bludger and… try to make more of a challenge.” Simple enough, right? He hoped so, coughing as he reached for the water he’d brought out as well. Paul grimaced, he had motivation. But that was nothing without a team. He couldn’t help but think he would fail, and, oh dear find himself in the public eye again.

He did not want that to happen. Not again.

Subthreads:

Reporting for Duty, Sir! by Daniel Nash II

I'll do my bit by Jera Valson

0 Paul Tarwater Aladren Quidditch Try-Outs : Walk-ons needed 0 Paul Tarwater 1 5

Daniel Nash II

November 19, 2009 9:18 AM

Reporting for Duty, Sir! by Daniel Nash II

Daniel arrived for the practice (he wasn't really sure it could rightly be called a try-out when the number of people signed up meant everyone who showed up would make it) wearing Aladren colors. His pants were black and his shirt was deep blue that was only one or two shades shy of being navy. He'd debated wearing sneakers, but decided that broom made his choice of footwear immaterial, so he was wearing his usual fine shoes. The pants and shirt, though casual for Daniel, were a bit more formal than most people would wear to play sports.

He had brought his own broom, which gleamed like the expensive and well tended piece of equipment it was. Daniel might not be the most Quidditch obsessed person in the school, or even the House, but he was meticulous and he could certainly afford all the best things. The broom was still less than a year old, having been bought over midterm last winter, though Daniel had been a little disappointed to find it had already lost its new-broom smell.

He listened to Paul talk about what they were doing for the day and only flinched a little when he was called 'Danny'. At least it wasn't Dan. If he'd been called Dan he would have had to say something, but he allowed 'Danny' to pass unchallenged. Despite extensive efforts to the contrary, that was what everyone at home still called him.

After Paul finished talking, Daniel kicked off the ground and brought his broom to a hover not too far away from Thomas. "I'll start as Keeper?" he offered.

1 Daniel Nash II Reporting for Duty, Sir! 130 Daniel Nash II 0 5

Jera Valson

November 22, 2009 2:03 PM

I'll do my bit by Jera Valson

As far as Jera could tell, she was already on the Aladren team. Again. She understood how difficult it was for what was stereotypically the bookish House to gather together a sports team, but surely it shouldn't be this hard every year. Paul was captain now, and although he didn't have the apparent easy authority that Geoffrey'd had, he was a prefect, and he's been on the team since his first year. Jera was sure he'd do a good job. He did seem a bit nervous when he introduced the new players and asked them to do basic drills, but it was his first practise: it was normal for him to be a bit nervous.

It turned out that, as she suspected, Jera didn't even need to try out for her position on the team. Nobody else had signed up for Seeker, and Jera was happy to return to the job. So when Paul basically told her she should just get on with it, Jera happily obliged. She released the practise Snitch - far more likely to be found in a short time period than the game ball - and mounted her broom. the ground was a touch too soft for a real fast kick-off, but Jera still made good time into the air. Avoiding the other players, Jera spent a few minutes warming up, doing turns and dives to get herself used to flying again after a summer on the ground.

As she soared through the air, Jera remembered a conversation she'd had with her Pa over the summer. She was going to be fifteen by the end of this year; some girls in the year above had been real young ladies by that age. They wore nice clothes and campaigned against girls playing Quidditch and would probably be in arranged marriages with pureblood socialites. To Jera, all that sounded truly horrifying. Still, she wasn't ignorant. The Powells were a decent pureblood family in America - the Valsons even more so in Europe. Though neither family was prone to disownment (the branches weren't large enough to be stripped of even the most rambunctious soundrels), certain expectations were held. But marriage? Jera still felt very much like a child. She wasn't ready for such grown-up words.

So, like she and her father had discussed, she wasn't going to think about growing up until she was good and ready. She had the rest of her life to be an adult; she was in no hurry. Her own mother didn't get married until she was in her late thirties, anyway. Jera had quite enjoyed playing on the Aladren team last year. Especially when they'd won against Crotalus. So she would keep playing Quidditch until she decided not to. Which may be never.

0 Jera Valson I'll do my bit 112 Jera Valson 0 5