Quidditch Try Outs by The Coach
“Good morning” the coach greeted, as all those who had signed up for Quidditch assembled on the pitch. It was, by most standards, a fairly decent day, though those who were used to warmer climates probably felt there was an edge to the air. The key thing though, for a day that would be spent flying, was the visibility and the wind conditions. In this, nature had favoured them; the sky was overcast, which was preferable as it reduced glare, and meant no one was blinded when looking in a particular direction, and the wind was basically at zero. That would do a lot to keep them from becoming too cold as well as not throwing off their passes or making flying more challenging than it needed to be.“Okay, welcome to try outs! I’m very excited that we’ve got more than enough people to field a full team here, and enough people who are flexible about what they want to play,” the coach smiled. Admittedly, a lot of that flexibility came from barely having ridden a broom and not being sure what they were getting themselves in for. But it was important to remain on the bright side, and also set the tone for what this team was going to be like - one that did not judge but encouraged.
“As a team, we’re strongest when we work together to make each other better. It’s not about any one player, so I want to see lots of co-operation and helping everyone find their space here. You’re not competing with each other - you are competing with other teams. So you need to lift up your teammates and make this a side full of really strong players, so we’re always fielding good options.
“As you know, we will be travelling around playing different matches with other small school teams. We also have an exciting opportunity coming up. There’s going to be a Quidditch fair down in the local town towards the end of term. The details are still being finalised, but these events typically involve demonstration matches or flying shows, which are well worth watching to get an idea of the game at a high level. There’s also sometimes workshops or coaching opportunities. Scouts for different leagues and summer camps also often attend events like this. We’ve been asked if we’d be interested in being part of some events. Possibly a small scale match or maybe offering a flying demonstration. So, whilst today will be tryouts for the team, I’ll also be looking at your skills to think about what ways we might offer to participate. That will, of course, be completely voluntary. A small school show is unlikely to draw a crowd any bigger than your games, but I do understand if people don’t want to be part of it.
“We’re going to start with a jog and a stretch to warm up. The run will include a Seeker trial. The Seeker is the player that searches for a small, golden ball. Its capture ends the match and earns one hundred and fifty points for the team,” the coach reminded them, “Anyone who is interested in Seeker, raise your hand?” The coach assigned a colour to each person who did so. “There are coloured flags placed at intervals around the pitch, anywhere between ground level and head height on the front of the stands. Whilst you do your warm up lap, you need to keep an eye out for your flag - and your flag only - and collect it as you go past.
“Once we are warmed up, anyone interested in Chaser, Keeper or Beater will be doing some ball skills on the ground,” they would run through a reminder of what each position entailed, then do some basic passes, plus aiming at a hoop some distance away, blocking the hoops for Keepers, and hitting some small balls that the coach would enchant to fly at them for the Beaters. After that, they would do some agility flying, and repeat most of the same exercises in the air, with a broader search for the Seekers. That, however, seemed like enough information to be going on with for now.
“On my whistle, get moving.”
OOC - welcome to tryouts. You may post your character attempting any of the activities listed above. You may god-mod the coach slightly if needed. Places on the team will be determined by both IC and OOC factors - the In Character team will be made up of the most experienced players, who the school would logically choose. The OOC team will reflect those who have contributed the best to try outs. In the events of matches being posted, the OOC team will be given priority (e.g. an excuse will be made that an IC first string player was sick, so that a player who is a more reliable poster can participate in the match). Ask on the OOC or in Chatzy if you have any questions. If you are signed up, it will be assumed you came to try outs whether you post or not, but your chances of being on the OOC team are increased by posting.
Subthreads: Back in the game by Eden Manger with Anya Delachene
I have learned to love the chase. by Evelyn Stones with Tatiana Vorontsova, Mara Morales
Trying my hand at something new. by Nathaniel Mordue with Hilda Hexenmeister
Giving it my all...for whatever that's worth. by Morgan Garrett with Heinrich Hexenmeister
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The Coach
Quidditch Try Outs
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The Coach
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Eden Manger
January 11, 2020 7:30 AM
Back in the game by Eden Manger
Managing to zone out enough to hush the voice in her head reminding her that Ivy probably would also need access to their bathroom, Eden spent a very long time this morning staring at her reflection. She hadn’t looked this way in a long time: the athletic wear, the high blonde ponytail, the unmade-up face. She hardly knew this girl anymore. She used to know her, but her life had gotten a little too complicated, and that complication included Quidditch.For the years she played, she received a new broom and a note signed from her father. For the longest time, she had thought it was some sort of miracle, or a sign that maybe he was still with her somehow. After Eden learned the truth about his death, her sister Sally had also told her where the brooms came from: Arnold. It was his way of compensating for the gaping hole their father’s death had left in her life; since Dad had sent Jake a broom every year, he assumed that role. It was Arnold’s ongoing apology for killing him - a crime that Eden now knew had not even fallen on him. He had known that Eden would never forgive him, but he could not give up her. She forgave him now, she thought.
She left the bathroom (shooting Ivy an apologetic look for taking so long) and grabbed Brett’s broom on her way out of the dorm. The seventh year hadn’t brought hers, not expecting to do anything with it when she was packing this summer, so her boyfriend had loaned her his. Brett was an excellent athlete, and sometimes she was still surprised that he never played for the school, but he was a bit too short-attentioned to commit to structured activities, it seemed.
Eden had a light breakfast - she didn’t want to eat, but she figured she needed something to fuel the machine before exercise - and made her way to the Pitch. Albeit she was a bit early, but she wanted to beat the others there and watch them process in. The young kids seemed so little now, what with graduation fast approaching on the horizon for her. It was strange how much had changed since she was the tiny first year fresh off of flying lessons and clutching a broom.
Her hand rose nervously when the coach asked who wanted to be Seeker, and her mind swam with the notion that maybe whatever innate talent she had discovered at eleven had died through the years of stasis. She was assigned the color purple for her flag, and her eyes focused, scanning the pitch preemptively.
Stretches were fine, but the moment it was time to jog, something inside her lit back up, and she knew her dates were not done. Eden smiled as she traveled, doing her best not to break into a dead run and look like a show off (at least, not too soon), but the adrenaline filled her breathless lungs and propelled her forward. It felt like flying - which was great, because pretty soon, she would be.
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Eden Manger
Back in the game
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Evelyn Stones
January 12, 2020 8:12 PM
I have learned to love the chase. by Evelyn Stones
Evelyn had spent her summer running. She ran everyday, building up to several miles in one go. She had always enjoyed running, but the rocky coastal town she grew up in was hardly suited to such endeavors and she'd become more adept at climbing as a result. At Ness', Evelyn could finally run. She could also train. As much as she enjoyed running just for the sake of it, and enjoyed the muscle and definition that came with that, she also knew she wanted to play Quidditch again. Flying a broom around town was impossible, but practicing throwing and kicking and dodging and shooting were all doable. She had flattened a fair number of soccer balls and basket balls with her efforts.Still, it was flying that she was best at. She could run for miles, but she could fly circles around some of her classmates. She was certainly not the best flyer, a fact which was emphasized when Eden Manager joined the group trying out for Seeker and solidified that Evelyn would not have gotten it even if she'd wanted to, but she was a good one. And for a Chaser, that would have to do.
Evelyn had participated in flying activities for the concert a few years previously and she was excited by the prospect of joining some in-town entertainment one week, as well as getting to watch some herself. But she had to get on the team for the former of those, so that's what she focused on. She'd worn her hair up in a ponytail, and had athletic leggings and a sweatshirt on. A tank top was on underneath that just in case it was warm enough or in cause she became warm enough. Her sports bra was on underneath and it still boggled her mind that she was in a part of life where she needed to think of such things.
Stretching gave her time to focus on getting her head clear, but she knew that wouldn't really happen until she began. When it was time to start running, and then to start doing drills, and then to start flying, Evelyn was ready. Sweat poured in her eyes but she kept going, and it was the best she'd performed at such activities that she could remember. It was nice to know that she wasn't so vulnerable anymore, and she felt powerful when she managed to throw a Quaffle through one of the hoops from several yards away, dodging the Keeper that was there. At some point, she realized she was grinning, and a happy laugh bubbled up between activities.
"I love this," she said, breathing hard and bouncing from one foot to the other; it was impossible to keep still at this point.
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Evelyn Stones
I have learned to love the chase.
1422
0
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Tatiana Vorontsova
January 16, 2020 10:21 AMTatiana Vorontsova
AlumnusHouse: Pecari
Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 16
Birthday: 14/27 July
I'm just trying to Keep up. by Tatiana Vorontsova
I listen too much to people.This was Tatiana's main thought as she walked down to the Quidditch Pitch. She had intended, after all, to just keep her head down for the remainder of her school career. She had known that it was socially safer to stick mostly to her friends, where she could be assured that she would be seen for herself rather than through the veil of her English, and that it would also be a better academic decision. Focusing on her academics was...well, she had no idea what she would use passing scores on the theory halves of her Advanced classes for, as she did not really want to attend university in English even if her parents would allow such a thing instead of laughing and assuming she was telling a joke, but she enjoyed achieving things. She enjoyed proving she could do it.
However, Ness had put the idea of returning to Quidditch in her head, and here she was. And, as she looked over the general pickings, she had to admit that she couldn't say that she was utterly unneeded. There were a lot of very small people here, first years, who didn't know what positions they wanted, which made her think they might well not know how to play Quidditch. She was out of practice, but she was afraid some of them might have no practice at all. She shook her head slightly, the sun reflecting off the top of her perfectly smooth, tightly fastened dark chignon. This was...potentially interesting.
Stretching was easy enough; she still remembered those maneuvers well, as she had done them for years and they were not that much different from the ones she had learned from early childhood in dance lessons. They had studied ballet before they learned formal dancing, as it was good for building posture and poise and the habits of graceful movement - useful especially for Sonia, who was the tallest of all the girls in their family. Running, however, was something she approached with a bit of trepidation. She had always run - casually, when she wanted to move fast, rather than in a systematic way - but she wasn't really supposed to do that now that she was an adult lady and she had not done so in some time.
Nevertheless, orders were orders, so she did her best, which did at least manage not to be the worst on the Pitch. Afterward, she wiped her brow with her sleeve, catching her breath without too much difficulty, and tried to figure out how on Earth she was supposed to play Keeper - the position she did, after all, know best - on the ground.In the air, after all, on a broom, she could dart about quickly enough to make up for her comparatively small stature; the two traits balanced each other out. On the ground, though....
She tried her best, watching the hands of Evelyn Stones, but some combination of arm and leg proved inadequate and the goal was accomplished. She swore in Russian, but made herself put on a smile and nod acknowledgement to Evelyn for having adapted better to the unexpected challenge. That was worthy of respect and Tatiana did not have much patience for a bad sport, at least not one whom she had no reason to personally dislike. She picked up the Quaffle and threw it back toward the would-be Chasers, resolving to do better next time.
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Tatiana Vorontsova
I'm just trying to Keep up.
1396
0
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Nathaniel Mordue
January 16, 2020 2:26 PM
Trying my hand at something new. by Nathaniel Mordue
Nathaniel felt like a giant as he looked around the group gathered to play Quidditch, and realized that he was probably not going to play Keeper this year. His brain was, perhaps, broken, but even it had enough logical capacity remaining to look around at this group, count the bodies, and begin to suspect that he was going to end up as a Beater whether he wanted to or not.At least, he thought, there was now a benefit to the stiff, closed-off posture and expression he had come in with because he was anxious about the tryout. Now, it meant that he didn't show any visible reaction to the news that it might well be his responsibility to physically keep Jeremy safe during matches as well as keeping his brother out of social trouble when they traveled.
Behind his face, however, he was panicking.
I can't do this. I can't. I still don't trust myself to take care of me in the air.
Logically, he was not breaking the promise he'd made to his mother if he sucked at Beating and the result was physical harm to his brother. Jeremy had been knocked around by plenty of Bludgers in the past, after all, and he hadn't felt the least bit responsible for that, because it was Quidditch. That wasn't what it meant, taking care of Jeremy. Jeremy could take care of himself just fine in the air. However, he knew his brother well enough to know that now, if anything did go wrong, Jeremy would use that the next time Nathaniel tried to correct him in any way, throw it back in his face that he was incompetent, or that he was a mental case who couldn't even hold himself together long enough to get through a Quidditch game, so why ought Jeremy listen to him....
It was, after all, a fair question. Nathaniel had points with which to refute it - he, at least, had not annoyed anyone so much yet that they felt the need to address his behavior with physical violence; he had not really scolded his brother about the fight, because the consensus seemed to be that Jeremy had not thrown the first punch (indeed, Nathaniel had considered hexing the other kid a little just to make the point that nobody messed with this family), but he knew Jeremy well enough to know that the violence had probably been very thoroughly provoked - but it was still a fair question, and the only real answer was that Jeremy was not smart, which Nathaniel tried to avoid actually saying. He wanted Jeremy to learn better and be better; he didn't want to have to try to keep his brother in line for the rest of his life.
Logically, it was a non-issue. Logically, if Jeremy did decide to throw it in his face - well, what of it? Jeremy was always difficult. Everything was always difficult now. Illogically, however, the thought of one more thing becoming more difficult...He had to, therefore he would. And it was disgusting, the way he was reacting to the slightest deviation from expectations, when keeping an eye on the list of candidates could have allowed him to be prepared for this possibility. So that was his fault, too. He should have been more prepared. He should have thought about it. He should have been on top of the situation, instead of just hoping for an excuse to be in a position where he wouldn't have to move, to interact, to do much more than exist.. There was no excuse for it. He'd made an error. Another one. Irritation flared, but he couldn't exactly do what he wanted to do, which was hit something...yet. Unexpected advantage. He forced himself to keep both hands on his broom instead of punching himself in the leg, focusing on the idea that an unexpected advantage to the situation was that he would get to hit something today, he assumed, at some point.
He could not focus well enough to follow long speeches, especially not pointless rambling ones about teamwork, but he was able to tell when that stuff ended and directions started. Stretching. Running. Running would be good. He was still frustrated enough wit himself that his head was relatively clear, so there was little risk of sinking into the fog while he was out here, and Dr. Greene had recommended daily outdoor exercise as part of his treatment - one of the things that he did find somewhat encouraging, even on days when he was too tired to follow the order, because that was something that suggested something more wrong with his body than his mind, something that could be corrected through improving his strength. Perhaps air and light and movement were good for circulation. That sounded logical enough.
He completed the stretches and the run, and did not pull out the worst time in the run, though he couldn't think too highly of himself for that - almost everyone else here, after all, had much shorter legs than he did. Still, he felt...good, more or less, strains at the back of his legs, air moving fast in and out of his lungs. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he could feel his pulse in his ears. He felt stronger. Alive.
Tatiana - his stomach tightened at the sight of her wiping her brow - moved toward the hoops, so Nathaniel decided to start by trying his hand with the tiny faux-Bludgers. He expected his height would make him better at the ground-Keeping than Tatiana just as he was better at Keeping on a broom than she was, but he wasn't going to bicker with her for precedence. That was the only reason.
He picked up a bat, trying to figure out how to get the most comfortable grip on it before the balls started flying at him. It felt clunky and heavy in his hand, so he tried holding it with two hands, only to find that they crowded each other out on the handle, so he switched back to one. That would work with these light balls that weren't real, but Bludgers...later, he supposed. He'd deal with things as they came to him. He swung the bat at one of the small balls as it flew at him, and managed to make contact and reverse the course of its motion. The next one got past him, forcing him to clumsily stumble out of its way, but he managed contact with a third.
"This has got to be one of the strangest things," he muttered. Who in the world would ever try to play Quidditch on the ground? To swing a bat at a ball with one's feet on the ground? He supposed it would feel strange to try to work with the Quaffle with his feet on the ground, too, when he took Tatiana's place, but surely not stranger than this.
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Nathaniel Mordue
Trying my hand at something new.
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0
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Mara Morales
January 16, 2020 4:42 PM
You're probably going to have better luck than I do there, T. by Mara Morales
Don't kick a ball or a third year, Mara reminded herself as she walked down to the Quidditch Pitch, her expression of unruffled indifference carefully crafted and deliberately put on, mask-like, to conceal any flutters of nerves about walking into try-outs for a sport she had never even heard of before a few weeks ago. Don't kick a ball or a third year. Don't kick a ball or a third year.She was not, truth to be told, quite sure which task was going to prove more challenging. On one hand, she was on something called a pitch, so it was kind of sheer habit to kick balls where she wanted them to go, not to carry them in her hands and throw them at other people while she flew around on a stick and tried not to get said stick stuck up her own butt. On the other hand, when Mara had mentioned that she had signed up for the magic sport team, her sister had immediately tried to dissuade her from going through with it, citing the Jeremy dude whose name was also on the list and explaining that he had made racist remarks right out in the open at dinner on their first night back. "I cannot stand Zara Jackson, but even she's better company than a freaking racist who isn't even smart enough to keep it to himself," Jessica had concluded.
Mara recognized him as the one Jessica had pointed out right away and made an effort to stand far away from both him and the much older guy who looked uncannily like him, whom she felt it was safe to assume was his brother. From the older guy's expression, he didn't have to worry too much about his broom going anywhere it ought not, because he looked like he already had a massive stick up his rear. His brother, on the other hand - well, maybe she was just imagining it because of what she knew about the jerk-face, but she couldn't help but think that Mini Mordue's resting expression was even more unpleasant. She really hoped they didn't have to interact much. j
The rest of the group was a mixed bag. There was a big, sturdy-looking, very fair-haired girl whom Jessica had pointed out to her as Hilda Hexenmeister, the girl Jessica had made friends with last year after Jezi had started trying to learn German. With her was Mara's feast buddy Heinrich - her brother - whom Mara gave a nod and a smile as she joined the group. She did the same to Morgan and another Aladren she had seen in the girls' corridor, one with short hair whom she had not yet put a name to. There were four other girls older than Mara; two of them managed to somehow actually be whiter than Jessica (Mara wondered if they were another pair of siblings; she didn't recall seeing any matching surnames on the list besides the two Mordues and the two Hexenmeisters, but Mara only shared a last name with one of her sisters, so it was entirely possible that other people had half-siblings too), one she had seen sitting on top of a table at one point in the Hall, and the fourth older girl had a hairstyle which suggested she might have meant to go to theater auditions for something set in the eighteen hundreds, had Sonora had a theater program. Then there was another first year girl, and then Mara.
She realized she was shuffling her weight between her feet and stopped. So it was ridiculously weird, this being on a team with people who were much older than her and three of whom were dudes. So it was a bit unnerving to not know exactly what she had gotten herself into. It was no reason to show anyone that she was nervous at all.
She trained her dark eyes on the coach as the coach said many coach-ly things - cooperation teamwork et cetera et cetera; she wondered if the coach knew about Jeremy and probably his brother, and if so, how exactly these concepts were supposed to work when they presumably deemed Mara inferior simply for the shape of her nose and the color of her hair - and she nodded to herself as they were given directions. She had read up enough on the positions to broadly understand, so just had to keep her eyes open and figure out from watching the others where she was supposed to be and what they would expect from her there.
The Beater job was, she thought, right out for her; she thought she was pretty strong for an eleven-year-old girl, but she was, well, an eleven-year-old girl. That left being an air goalie, an aerial and weirdly active player of a sort of athleticized Where's Waldo (if she could somehow out-perform two much older and presumably more experienced players), or a Chaser. Chasing had the most positions to offer, but it also sounded like the most interactive of the positions, and possibly the most difficult - it was essentially like playing basketball, but in the air. Or at the very least, if she got her head past the whole issue of flying broomsticks, like crossing basketball and polo. Mara had never played polo, or even seen much of it; she thought that might be a shade too posh even for Jessica's old school, which had had a tennis team and a lacrosse team in the upper school. So it was possible that there were hoops in polo too, but that Mara just didn't know about them, making this just polo without helmets (why) and substantially higher off the ground than most horses were wont to go. She had been horseback riding a few times, but found herself rather wishing she had done so more often, now....
One thing was for sure: whether she got a position here or not, or whatever position it happened to be, she was so not telling her parents the details. They would both freak out so fast over the 'no helmet' thing that it wouldn't even be funny. Hearing that she was almost certain to be second string, as she looked over the numbers, would not soothe them on that point. She was engaged in a sport from which she might fall from a height without any protective gear. That was pretty well exactly why Dad and Mrs. H. had rejected the idea of Jezi taking gymnastics lessons out of hand.
She wandered over to the people throwing a ball during the ground practice, for the excellent reason that throwing balls on the ground was something she had done before and the next-closest thing to that - the Beater thing - corresponded to the position she suspected she was least suited for. The moving pictures in her books were enough to convince her that however much it might look like some people were playing t-ball right now, the actual 'Bludger' things were far, far from resembling autonomous baseballs. One of the whiter-than-Jessica older girls got a goal against Miss Mellie, and Mara clapped politely as Miss Mellie said something foreign (Mara mentally, upon registering the Foreign as not sounding anything like a Romance language, associated her with the name 'Tatiana' she had noticed on the list beside a surname she had not even bothered trying to figure out how to pronounce) and tossed the ball back.
"Good job," she said when Blondie said she loved this. "I'm new to this. Mind if I give it a try?"
16
Mara Morales
You're probably going to have better luck than I do there, T.
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Morgan Garrett
January 16, 2020 7:05 PM
Giving it my all...for whatever that's worth. by Morgan Garrett
Morgan had put herself down on the list as undecided, but had done this primarily because she was a first year and knew that first years were lucky to make the teams at all. The fact that the school was reduced to having one team implied that things had gone rather wrong since Dad was a student, but the list was long enough that Morgan knew she was unlikely to be first string in anything, much less a specific position. Not only were there a good number of older people, but Morgan knew she was not the most athletic even of the first years.For now, she reminded herself. Everyone started somewhere. However, she knew that realistically, there was a difference between her physique and Mara's, and she was the one with more catching up to do.
This became even more painfully obvious to her - and, no doubt - everyone else after the opening jog; she was far from the front of the finishers, and not close to the middle of the pack. She was also red-faced and working to get her breath as she drew to a stop. As embarrassed as she was, though, she wasn't humiliated - she had kept running the whole time! Slowly, maybe, but running nevertheless. Jogging anyway.
She tried her best during the ground game, but was relieved when they finally got onto their brooms and into the air. Her broom was an old model and she wasn't the most experienced flier, but at least her height was not as much of a problem in the air. Having something other than her legs to do some of the moving for her was going to be handy, too. Deciding to be bold, she went straight for the Keeper's goals, confident that at least, no matter what was thrown at her, she couldn't do worse than she had done running back and forth during the ground game.
16
Morgan Garrett
Giving it my all...for whatever that's worth.
1470
0
5
Anya Delachene
January 17, 2020 10:17 AM
A bit too short-attentioned to excel at structured activities by Anya Delachene
Anya was totally ready for this. Admittedly, she hadn't done much to prepare for it. She'd eaten a normal breakfast of cereal and milk. She was dressed like she was normally dressed: an old comfortable t-shirt and old comfortable jeans, both of which had a few holes (through wear, not intended design). She preferred jeans with ripped knees for flying because that let her bend her knees in with less clothing resistance since the clothing there had already tried and catastrophically failed to resist the motion. She'd considered wearing shorts but decided that, with bludgers potentially flying around, having half of her leg completely unprotected would be unwise.Jasmine, she was sure, would point out that just going out on the Pitch with bludgers flying around would be unwise, but Jasmine had no sense of adventure at all, and Anya actually thought that part sounded kind of exciting.
She was only twelve still, though, and knew enough about Quidditch beaters to know she didn't have the right kind of muscle or just raw mass to really make it as a beater, so that was why she hadn't requested that position on her sign-up sheet, but it was at least better than Keeper. Keeper just sat in the same spot doing the same thing the whole game and it just looked incredibly boring and tedious to her, so that had been a big loud NO WAY on the sign-up sheet. She might be bad at Beater, but Keeper wouldn't be fun.
Chaser and Seeker, though, they both flew fast. Seeker had good reasons to go hurtling at high speeds toward the ground, though, and that was always fun, so it was her first pick.
When the coach asked for those interested in Seeker, Anya jumped up and down with her hand in the air. "Me! Me!" she called out and got assigned orange. Orange was good. Orange was bright and hard to miss.
At the whistle, she started running. She took off at a sprint, but after about 200 meters (her favorite sprinting distance because she wasn't fast enough for 100m but she could hold out long enough to keep it up for 200m but it wasn't as much like death as the 400m), she had to slow down to a much more moderate trot to catch her breath. That was good because she almost would have run right past the orange flag sitting on the ground near the stands if she'd still been running full out. She veered off to the side, stopped long enough to scoop the flag up, and then returned to trotting around the pitch. She picked up the pace when some of the other kids started passing her, trying to keep up to them, but never regained her initial speed. Even her final push at the end just didn't have the energy her initial 200 meters had.
Having completed the lap, she waved her orange flag over her head to show she'd gotten it, but as soon as the coach looked her way to note it, she dropped to the ground, rolling to lay on her back, arms and legs spread out limply in whatever direction they had fallen, and stared up at the sky as she breathed heavily. She didn't stay like that for long though. After only a few moments, she sat up and started stretching again so she didn't tense up as she cooled down.
The grounded ball exercises for Chaser weren't totally boring, but she was eager to get up in the air, so she mostly just went through the motions, eager to get that part over with so she could finally get on a broom. She wasn't bad at catching and throwing, but neither were they her best skills. What was going to set her apart was how she handled heights.
She had her own broom and while she preferred horses to it most of the time at home, brooms did have their advantages, and she liked using them for daring tricks that horses just didn't have the sheer maneuverability to pull off. Anya was quick to launch up for the agility exercises, and she laughed a little at the feel of the air pushed aside by the speed of her passage. She did a loop-de-loop just for the joy of it even before they started the agility tests. She'd gotten yelled at in Flying Lessons for pulling off that sort of thing, but this wasn't the beginners class anymore.
As it always did, being high above the ground gave Anya an airy feeling of freedom. She could breathe easier up here. The world just felt like a better place when it was farther away like this. She was home.
The agility exercises were super fun and she killed them. The throwing and catching and trying to score goals was also more fun when done up high, and she did better than she had on the ground in that part of the Chaser try-out, but it still clearly wasn't an area where she stood out from the competition, though at least that was true of negative attention as well as positive.
Her performance for the Seeking portion in the air was also middling. She did all right, but not in any manner that would particularly wow anybody. She had periods where she forgot what she was supposed to be doing and just did some flips, but then she'd remember and start looking again, and she did eventually find what she was looking for, but it wasn't going to break any speed records. Well, her dive to collect it might have been close to some kind of record, because fast dives were the best and she loved doing them, but her actual spotting-the-thingamabob part wasn't really super amazing.
1
Anya Delachene
A bit too short-attentioned to excel at structured activities
1453
0
5
Heinrich Hexenmeister
January 17, 2020 12:21 PM
Chasing after the goal by Heinrich Hexenmeister
Heinrich arrived at the Pitch and gave his little sister a sour look as she ran over to stand by his side. He had mostly forgiven her for signing him up without asking him first, but he hadn't let her know that yet, and might hold out on letting her know that for the rest of the try-out, or at least until he actually had fully forgiven her, which would probably happen somewhere around the time he actually started playing.He had played Quidditch in Germany as a kid. Then he'd taken a few years off, being more focused on learning English and trying to adapt to his new life, than trying to keep up with sports that only reminded him of better times. Then Hilda started at the school, was adamant about playing Quidditch, and needed a translator, so he'd joined two years ago. He'd been badly out of practice and hadn't made a good showing of himself. Then there had been another year off due to challenges, but Hilda hadn't let his skills go dormant, so he was not so bad off as last time, and he had newer memories to buffer the old ones. So he might actually enjoy himself. Maybe.
If Hilda didn't get too smug about it.
He smiled at Evelyn as she arrived, and nodded in greeting at Mara, who he'd met at the Opening Feast this year. He gave nods to the people he knew from previous years on the team as well, though those were as much acknowledging their return as greetings. As a prefect, he wondered if he should smile at the first years, but he worried he might look creepy if he did, being as out of practice at it as he was, so he didn't try.
His gaze lingered for a few moments on Nathaniel and he wondered briefly if he ought to make an effort to try making friends with him this year, since they were now both prefects as well as both on the Quidditch team. He had Evelyn as a friend and that was all well and good, but he'd discovered at the Bonfire last term that it probably wouldn't hurt him to make at least one friend who wasn't a girl. He'd managed to find a tent to stay in, and survived the night, but it would have been easier if he hadn't had to share a space with near-strangers.
Now was not the time, though. Now the Coach was talking and Heinrich had to translate for Hilda, so he did. His sister scoffed when he got to the part where they weren't competing with each other, but he was too busy trying to listen and talk at the same time to add commenting against her opinions to his list of current activities. She did look intrigued and interested by the idea of a Quidditch Fair in town, and as he started detailing the initial jog, she had adopted a very seriously determined look on her face.
At the whistle, Hilda took off, not so fast that she'd wear herself out quickly like that little girl with the curly hair, but faster than his own easy lope. He wasn't trying to impress anyone with his run. He was fifteen, taller than both of the Advanced girls on the team, as well as Nathaniel, so his longer legs could easily outpace most of the youngest ones without even trying. Even if Hilda hadn't taken the Coach's admonishment to be cooperative instead of competitive to heart, Heinrich was good at following directions, so all he tried to do was keep to the back half of the pack so the little folk would feel they were doing well by keeping up with such a tall guy.
He ended the lap without even being winded, though. He wasn't sure whether to hope the coach noticed and realized he could have gone faster, or hoped they didn't so they wouldn't think he'd just been being lazy.
For the ground exercises, he thought Evelyn did marginally better than he did, but he didn't embarrass himself. He clearly had some experience at this. Though the fact that he wasn't on a broom, which would help him improve his vertical angles, was throwing him off some.
Once they got up in the air, he felt even more confident, especially when the first Keeper he was up against was one of the first years. Not wanting to completely demoralize her, his first throw was a gentle one, aimed for one of the hoops she had a shot at stopping, but not one that would reflect badly on him for throwing it right to her.
1
Heinrich Hexenmeister
Chasing after the goal
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Hilda Hexenmeister
January 17, 2020 7:47 PM
Das ist nicht neue. by Hilda Hexenmeister
Hilda was so ready for this. She'd made the first-string team as Beater even as a first year. True, she hadn't played every game; she'd had to alternate with Luke, but now Luke and Simon had both graduated, making her the most experienced Beater in the school. JD and Ness had both been training for it, along with other positions, during practices but JD hadn't signed up again, and Ness was solidly in the Chaser group now according to the sign-up sheet. A few first years had signed up for 'anything' but it hadn't looked like she was going to have any serious competition in taking a permanent first string position on the team this year. Even considering the oldest students who might get drafted, Eden the Seventh Year was signed up as a Seeker, which probably meant she was a small girl. Tatiana the Sixth Year had put dibs on Keeper, but Hilda at least knew who Tatiana was because they were in the same House, and with all her sparkly bangles, Hilda didn't think she was in too much danger of being forced into Beater out of necessity. That left Heinrich and Nathaniel. Heinrich might have inches (well, one inch maybe) on Nathaniel, but Nathaniel had pounds on her skinny brother. Heinrich wasn't good Beater stock at all. Nathaniel wasn't really either, but of the four oldest students, Hilda thought he had the highest likelihood of having the Coach hand him a bat and being told to try out for Beater.She arrived on the Pitch early to do her warm-ups then ran over to her brother when he turned up, to be sure to get a translation in case the Coach should start talking. He gave her a Look. He was still mad then. She rolled her eyes. He'd get over it. This was good for him. He needed a fun outlet, and a physical outlet. Quidditch was conveniently both. She had no idea why he was so upset she'd signed him up. Probably teenage hormones. She was thirteen and hadn't really had too much of a problem with those yet, but she understood they could get ugly.
More people arrived, and she waved at the people she had drilled with before, or knew from classes. Then the coach started talking and Heinrich - thankfully not mad enough to avoid his brotherly duty - started translating. She scoffed at the idea that this wasn't a competition. It was a try-out. It was, by definition, a competition. However, she didn't really have a lot of competition for her position - not only was she the best option out here, but the team would need to field two Beaters - so she wasn't really worried.
The bigger worry was Heinrich. He had a good shot at making the first string, but his claim wasn't as solid as hers was. Chances were high that the Coach would name him, Evelyn, and Ness as first string, since they'd all been on the team last time, but Heinrich wasn't an outstanding player. He wasn't a bad player, but he wasn't great the way Hilda was. And by the look he was giving her, he wasn't going to be playing as competitively as he should be today, because Heinrich was a ninny who followed directions to the letter and the Coach had said to be a good team player. If he held back and some first or second year got his spot instead, she'd be really mad, because she needed Heinrich along to tell her what people were saying in English.
And, well, because she wanted to play with her brother. Who was fifteen and had to be a better player than most of these new kids.
Though she guessed she had knocked a seventh year from a solid position on the first string team when she was eleven, so it was possible. But that guy hadn't ever played Quidditch before, as she understood it, so that was fair. She had.
And so had Heinrich. So Heinrich should get it. But the whistle blew and Heinrich fell behind her almost immediately, even though she knew he could outrun her on the ground. The idiot.
She didn't have any flags to grab as she had zero interest in trying out for Seeker, so she wasn't distracted in her run and she passed by the girl who had taken off in a sprint as she bent over to pick up an orange flag. Anya, she thought the girl's name was. They'd been in classes together last year, and they were in the same House.
She finished well, having made good time, without completely exhausting herself. It showed good endurance and energy management and straight up physicality. The coach had to be impressed. Heinrich finished way behind where he should have and she gave him a dirty look. He pretended not to see it. Or maybe he actually didn't see it. But she was pretty sure he was pretending. The dork.
She headed over to where the Beaters were supposed to go next and was only mildly surprised to see that Nathaniel had come to the same conclusion she had and was already there without being directed by the Coach. As the person she deemed most likely to be her co-Beater, she gave him a solemn nod of respect and greeting, and stated, "Hallo. I am Hilda," in case he didn't know already.
He went first, hitting two out of the three balls sent his way. It wasn't a terrible showing for someone who hadn't even seemed sure how to hold a bat when he first picked it up. He made a comment in English when he finished that she didn't entirely catch, this time because she could hardly hear it rather than because the words were incomprehensible. But it was her turn so she didn't have time to think about it. She readied her bat, and swung at the balls as the came. It was harder than she expected it to be, because she wasn't on a broom and she couldn't raise or lower herself to get to the sweet spot as easily. She hit them all, but not as soundly as she really would have liked.
As she left to let one of the younger kids who were trying out for everything take a turn she made her way over next to Nathaniel and addressed him. "You said something. I did not hear."
1
Hilda Hexenmeister
Das ist nicht neue.
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Evelyn Stones
January 18, 2020 4:21 PM
Y'all are amazing and you got this. by Evelyn Stones
Evelyn did feel a little bad. She wasn't one to gloat and was pretty sure she hadn't done anything to necessarily make Tatiana feel worse, but also missing a goal was a good way to feel terrible, and there was no good way around that. It was one of those weird situations where they weren't actually playing against each other, but Evelyn's success and odds of getting on the team were inversely proportional to Tatiana's. It didn't really seem fair in that regard, but there wasn't much that could be done about that. Besides, it was just as important to see sportsmanship, friendliness, and fortitude. Tatiana showed that she could keep cool and keep her head in the game, and be happy for those who were happy at her expense. That made Tatiana both a good fit for the team and also a forced to be reckoned with. Evelyn hoped she wouldn't have to do the reckoning.A smallish girl asked Evelyn if she could try next, and it was one of the first times Evelyn had interacted with a first year in some time. It wasn't like she avoided them, and she had interacted with . . . well. Probably somebody. She wasn't so good at keeping track of who was in which year anyway. It was interesting to see the diversity at Sonora either way. Her home in Oregon was . . . very white. And very American. Sonora might've even had a smaller percentage of white American students than other students, or very close, and that was pretty great. It also felt hilariously ironic considering all the racist crap that Purebloods said, and the racist crap Muggles said. They would both hate each other.
She felt a little bad for thinking that though, too. She didn't want to be somebody who saw someone's skin color or languages or race first, just like she'd been trying not to see people's genders first. At the same time, those things made up a person in a lot of ways, and influenced them a lot, even if just by the ways society influenced them as a result. Evelyn wanted to be someone who celebrated diversity, and that meant being aware of it.
Evelyn was getting good at being aware of things. She'd always been one to pay attention to her surroundings because survival was great, but that was even more so the case as she'd gotten older and started to care about other people more, too. A lot of the people she cared a lot about - Ness, Heinrich, Hilda, and others - were present today and that was beautiful. She loved getting to share in this physical work with them because it was something she really enjoyed. It was also for this reason that she vaguely recognized the first year, as Heinrich had arrived and offered Evelyn a perfect warm smile and then nodded in the first year's direction. The badge on her chest confirmed that they were both Aladren, so that made sense. Also Heinrich was nicer than he gave himself credit for, and there was that too.
"Absolutely!" Evelyn said, passing her the ball. "It's great you're going out for the team in your first year. It's such a good experience. I'm Evelyn. That's Tatiana." She added the last as she suspected that Tatiana was both too far away to hear their conversation clearly, and also too focused to care for introductions. The sixth year was nothing if not intense.
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Evelyn Stones
Y'all are amazing and you got this.
1422
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