...All come straggling in. on Quidditch Pitch

Coach Pierce

February 28, 2011 9:11 AM

Aftermath: The Walking Wounded by Coach Pierce

Once Arista had been dropped off with Cleo, Amelia got back up into air almost immediately. Russell had the quaffle in Aladren possession again alread and was threatening the Teppenpaw goal again. Daniel Nash was threatened by another bludger. And the Seekers had spotted the snitch. Edmond got to Nash in time to prevent another injury and/or fall, but the Snitch was caught before the results of Russell's attempt to score could matter.

Coach Amelia Pierce blew her whistle, loud and long, to signal the game's conclusion. She announced Aladren's win, and dismissed the likely grateful crowd of spectators to return to the dry interior of the school where buckets of water were not being dropped on their heads.

The players, though, she sorted through. She gave the Captains a chance to cheer or console their teams, but began picking off the wounded before the could run off to the locker rooms or back to the school.

"You need to be checked out by the nurse," she told each of Kirstenna, Russell, Arnold, and Ben in turn. Three of them had actually been hit by bludgers, and Kirstenna had both fallen from her broom and whacked her head pretty good against the Quaffle on that last save. Even if there was nothing Cleo could do for the bruises, it was best to at least make sure nothing more serious had happened.

She herded the other four down to join Arista in the medic's tent. "Cleo, we've a few more wounded," she began and introduced each of the players by name and injury. "Kirstenna fell and hit her head on a quaffle pretty hard. Russell and Ben both took bludgers to the leg. Arnold fell and was hit with another bludger on the arm or shoulder," she'd had a bad angle to see the exact point of impact, but he'd been favoring one arm. She'd already quickly explained that Arista had blacked out from her bludger hit and had consequently fallen from her broom, so she didn't mention that again.

Most would just be checked quickly and released, she suspected, but at least Arista and possibly Kirstenna who might have a minor head injury might need to go back to the Hospital Wing for further treatment. Amelia stuck around in case she was needed to help escort. Plus the medic's tent offered some shelter from the rain so she took the opportunity to dry herself with a charm and put on a very belated water repelling charm for the walk back.

Subthreads:

Aftermath: Victory!!! by Captain Daniel Nash II with Edmond Carey

...All come straggling in. by Kate Bauer with Arthur and Arnold Carey, Medic Cleo Rocamboli

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Captain Daniel Nash II

February 28, 2011 9:28 AM

Aftermath: Victory!!! by Captain Daniel Nash II

Daniel was almost certain that he would have been hit by that bludger that Edmond rescued him from. He hadn't noticed it until he heard the larger beater knocking it away. He'd been far too busy holding his breath and splitting the whole of his attention between Russell's attempt to surprise Kirstenna and Arnold's battle against Kate. Like most everyone on the field he completely forgot about Russell's action when Arnold caught hold of the snitch.

Daniel whooped and cheered and started congratulating every blue robed player he could find while wearing a grin so wide it actually hurt. He forgot about the rain, about the irritating way his hair was plastered against his head despite the water repellant charms he'd used, and every other minor annoyance that had bothered him earlier.

This was the best year ever. Prior to that spring, Daniel hadn't really had much cause to jump up and be happy, but the end of fifth year and beginning of sixth had certainly turned that around. First, they'd won the Quidditch Championship last year, and then he'd gotten Head Boy, and now Aladren won the first game he'd ever Captained, even with most of the team being first years. It was fantastic. It was better than fantastic.

"Aladren is Awesome!" he exclaimed, too pumped with their victory to keep it to himself, but not really addressing anyone in particular.

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Kate Bauer

March 02, 2011 12:50 PM

...All come straggling in. by Kate Bauer

Kate thought she realized what had happened a second before she consciously realized what had happened, but it was possible that the reason she felt a sudden wave of nausea and general Not Feeling Good was because of her shoulder instead of because of the game ending with Arnold Carey gripping the Snitch and in a fit of hysterical laughter. She was more inclined to go with her first theory, though. She’d been so close…

What-if. Seriously high on the list of Most Depressing Phrases In The English Language. What if she’d still been blocking Arnold. What if Derry or Ben had been just a little bit quicker than the Aladrens with the Bludgers. What if the Snitch had just landed on her nose two minutes into the game? Not as bad as ‘if only,’ but still seriously high up that list, and pointless. None of that had happened, and the game was over, and they’d lost. That was all there was to it.

She tried to look for the bright side. At least she hadn’t been as humiliatingly crushed by Carey as she had been by Marissa Stephenson last year. She’d put up a good fight. They all had. That long run of Tobar’s, and Ben knocking Arnold off his broom – those were the kind of big moves that hadn’t happened at all in her first year. Aladrens just got crazy about Quidditch, like Uncle Geoff’s friend – Kate had spent thirty minutes cornered at Momma and Jeremy’s Christmas party last year listening to that girl ramble about her tenure as captain of the Hawks before she’d finally escaped by pretending to need the bathroom, and Uncle Geoff had later admitted she was in therapy about that, so it had made her literally crazy, just like it seemed to have done to Arnold. Crazy people with a cause were hard to beat even when they didn’t employ crazy ninja firsties and a Beater the size of the figures on Mount Rushmore as well.

It didn’t really make her feel better, though, to go through all that, and she doubted it would make the rest of the team feel much better, either. So even though Coach Pierce didn’t pull her aside the way she did the other injured players after the game – she guessed, in the craziness of those last moments, that the hit hadn’t been noticed since she’d stayed on her broom – she flew down with Kirstenna and Ben, her face paling with the jostle of landing. Oh, yeah, definitely cracked or broken or something.

Only three Teppenpaws still intact in the aftermath. Definitely not a good day to be them. Kate wondered if they’d let her sleep in the hospital, so she wouldn’t have to paranoidly wonder if every look her roommates gave her was a death glare.

She waited for the coach to finish her spiel about everyone else’s injuries before she stepped forward with her own. “I got hit, too,” she said. “Back of my shoulder. I think some of the – what-do-you-call-‘em – pointy bones or where the joint goes in or something is messed up.” She tried to smile. "I'm Kate."

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Arthur and Arnold Carey

March 04, 2011 1:49 PM

We'd march if we were ants by Arthur and Arnold Carey

“Arnold,” Arthur said, considering whether or not to shake his twin before the rest of the team could see him up close in this state. “Arnold,” he tried again.

“We won,” Arnold informed him.

“I see that, but could you stop laughing about it? It’s disturbing.”

Arnold glared at him. “You’re just jealous,” he said.

“Of course I am,” Arthur said good-naturedly. “You should see Medic Rocamboli.”

First, though, there were congratulations to be handed out – seeing the state Captain Nash was in made Arthur wonder if his brother’s reaction to catching the Snitch would have gotten quite the unsettled response from the rest of the team that he’d expected – and then Coach Pierce came along and offered the same advice Arthur had, though to more effect. Some of the things they’d been told before coming here, things they’d never heard in relation to their tutors before Sonora, had them both a little confused about the exact status of educators and how they were supposed to relate to them, but disobeying direct orders while the orderer was looking at them and the order was reasonable clearly crossed the line. Arnold reluctantly turned away from the group, then looked surprised when Arthur did, too.

“You got hurt, too?” he demanded.

“No,” Arthur said shortly, cutting the line of thought Arnold might well start to follow off before his brother could set foot on it. Grandfather had siblings, but he was not a twin, and that was the only reason Arthur could forgive him for his odd notion that they should both regard Arnold as his older brother. Arthur had never seen it that way, but Arnold sometimes did, and Mother’s idea that he needed looking after did not help the situation. He did not think he could put up with Arnold going into one of his paternalistic moods at the same time he was full of himself for catching the Snitch. “I just love hospitals.”

People would, after all, see him as unnatural if he did not express anxiety on his brother’s behalf while he was being looked at by medical personnel. Arthur wasn’t quite sure why. Arnold was clearly as fine as anyone who’d taken a hit from a Bludger could be, and anyone with a week of mediwitch training could fix what damage he’d taken. People were irrational like that, though, and he had to live with them.

Of course, they did miss things when they were busy, and a glance around the medical tent let him know that his lack of unnecessary terror for Arnold’s life might have been overlooked. He hadn’t realized this many were injured before, so either a lot of injuries had happened after the rain began or he’d just lost track somewhere in all the confusion of the game. Or a bit of both. Arnold, meanwhile, was inexplicably grinning again.

“You certainly are,” he said when Kate Bauer introduced herself to the medic. “I’d shake your hand, if we had different injuries.”

“It’s his arm,” Arthur informed the medic, expanding on Coach Pierce’s summary, as Arnold and Miss Bauer either starting a mutual admiration society or starting a fight seemed equally pointless and time-wasting when the aftermath of this game was messy enough already. “Upper left arm, the outside of it, just below the shoulder joint. Good day, Medic Rocamboli.”

“I think it’s just a bad bruise,” Arnold added. “It doesn’t feel too broken.” Not, of course, that he would have admitted to a serious injury in front of the person responsible for it if he were in his right mind and able to help it, which he currently was – a little dazed, maybe, to speak to Miss Bauer so, but still present. He could usually predict him, but Arthur would be the first to admit to himself that he didn’t understand his brother at all.

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Medic Cleo Rocamboli

March 07, 2011 11:18 PM

Call me Florence Nightingale by Medic Cleo Rocamboli

Quidditch games for medics were like the dinner rush for waiters: impossibly busy and a little stressful. Having been a medic for so long and having seen probably every possible Quidditch injury, Cleo didn’t think they were particularly stressful anymore, but they were always busy.

Today was almost ridiculous, though. She’d never had a game where nearly half the players ended up in her medical tent.

Although the redhead knew there were injuries in the earlier stages of the game, Arista Thornton was the first who was actually taken out of play. This, Cleo thought, was the best decision anyone had made all day. A Bludger to the head was never a good thing; it could put someone unconscious for more than a day, so Cleo was anxious to start taking care of the Teppenpaw. At Quidditch matches, the medic kept all the supplies she’d need to deal with blunt force trauma (the most probable injury) on hand, so she immediately gave Arista an Anti-Inflammatory Draught to keep down the swelling in her left temple.

Cleo obviously wasn’t watching the game now as she fixed up Arista (bandages and a few protections against concussion were the extent of her abilities here), but she could hear the sympathetic hisses or triumphant cheers from the crowd that signified someone being hit by a Bludger. To be honest, the forty-one-year-old had never understood the appeal of heavy iron balls flying around with the goal of hurting people. It was probably some adrenaline-seeking notion—further proof that Quidditch had been invented by men.

It was only after the game (an Aladren victory) when the influx of match casualties arrived in the medical tent. They were escorted in by Amelia, who—Merlin bless her—explained everything that had happened. While Cleo had witnessed some of the injuries, it was hard to match accident to face when she didn’t know the students particularly well.

Conjuring some extra seating for the new arrivals, Cleo beckoned them closer and offered them a moment’s rest. There were already beds for those with leg injuries, and she added a backless seat for Arnold with his shoulder injury, and an average chair for Kirstenna with her potential concussion. So many injuries, and it was more than surprising to find out that Amelia had actually missed an injured student—good Merlin, six in one match? Cleo greeted Miss Bauer quickly and directed her to another promptly-conjured backless seat.

“Good day, Arthur,” Cleo said. Her tone was more businesslike than pleasant, but as she was working, the medic figured this was understandable. “I hope you’re doing well.” The general well-wish actually meant “I hope you haven’t been having any more headaches lately”, but Cleo didn’t want to cite this specific problem. For all she knew, the first-year didn’t want anyone to know about that, and there was no need for her to bring it up with so many others around.

Recognizing the head injury as her highest priority, Cleo asked the other students to wait for a moment while she examined Kirstenna. Getting hit in the head with the Quaffle was a minor problem, but depending on the speed and the angle, the Keeper could have a concussion, and Cleo didn’t want to release her until she was sure Kirstenna was in perfect health. A quick diagnostic spell told Cleo that besides possibly getting a bump on the head, the Teppenpaw was fine, so Cleo just offered the third-year a mild Anti-Inflammatory dose. There was no medical need to keep that swelling down, but it would probably make Kirstenna a little more comfortable. As she worked, Cleo explained to each student what she was doing and why; when she had to be a patient, the medic always insisted on knowing what Healers working on her intended to do.

The boys with the leg injuries were next, and Cleo was relieved to see that Ben’s, at least, was not broken. Badly bruised, yes, but that was something Cleo could take care of with a salve. Upon close inspection, it seemed that Russell had a mild sprain of his MCL, but that was also quickly dealt with; just a potion to repair the ligament, and a salve to prevent bruising. Besides the instruction that Russell should be gentle with his knee for the next few hours, both boys were then free to go.

Now she could turn her attention to Kate and Arnold. Kate seemed to have a more serious injury than Arnold, so Cleo focused on the Teppenpaw first. Definitely broken, a quick diagnostic spell told the medic. Fortunately, bones didn’t take six-to-eight weeks to Heal in the wizarding world; it was closer to six-to-eight seconds. Before doing the spell to fix Kate’s shoulder girdle, however, Cleo asked the Seeker if she would like her shoulder numbed while it was fixed. While this wasn’t strictly necessary, the medic had always thought it was unpleasant to feel one’s bones shifting back into place and mending.

Arnold Carey had suggested that his shoulder might only be bruised. Since she either hadn’t seen or didn’t remember the hit he took, Cleo wasn’t sure about that self-diagnosis, but she was sure that he’d be holding his arm a lot stiller if it was actually dislocated or broken. Adrenaline rush from the game or not, dislocations were characterized by intense pain. A diagnostic spell showed that Arnold’s arm was indeed not dislocated—just, as he’d assumed, quite badly hit. Thankfully, it was much easier to give him a potion to Heal this than to do the spell to relocate a shoulder, and the Aladren Seeker was quickly patched up.

Fairly satisfied that everyone in her tent was as well cared for as they could possibly be, Cleo paced back towards Arista’s bed. Hopefully, the Teppenpaw would come around shortly. “Is everyone all right now?” she asked clearly. The freckled witch thought she had gotten to everyone, but there were so many students there that a late arrival might have been missed. She also wanted to make sure that none of them were in any unreasonable amount of pain or discomfort.

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Edmond Carey

March 14, 2011 3:32 PM

Party time! by Edmond Carey

The Bludger collided with the Teppenpaw Seeker, but while she was hurt, she kept her broom and was still in the race for the Snitch. Edmond thought she might even be closer than she had been. Resisting the temptation to make yet another impolite comment, he began looking for another Bludger to hit at something, anything, when –

There was suddenly a lot of noise. Squinting, he could see it was from the bluer-looking side. And Arnold was sitting still in the air, laughing as though he’d gone mad.

“We won?” he said to no one in particular, not least because there was no one right next to him at that moment to hear him.

After a moment, he was forced to conclude that they had, in fact, won. Arthur was with his brother, Edmond supposed to check on him after that fall, Daniel had a look of pure glee on his face that was at once amusing and a little terrifying coming from someone usually so controlled, and the Teppenpaws were also moving together, presumably for comfort. Edmond felt a moment of guilt, since his sister was a Teppenpaw and would have to put up with Miss Melcher being unhappy about it, but Jane wasn’t even here today; when it came to the conflicting loyalties caused by Aladren-Teppenpaw games, she decided to quietly support both from a non-Pitch location instead of picking one.

Feeling suddenly very tired, as he supposed he had the right to, but smiling, Edmond joined the rest of the team and tried not to laugh too much at Daniel’s alliteration. “I agree,” he said. “Though I’m afraid that doesn’t alliterate as well.” He nodded to the elder of his twin cousins, who was still clutching the Snitch, and to his roommates. “Well done, Arnold, Russell,” he said, since they’d both succeeded in their tasks even if Russell’s goal had happened a second too late to matter, and added, “Fantastic catches, Arthur,” before the coach came to collect the injured.

“That was a change from the usual,” he added after that was done. “I’ve never seen so many hits in a game.” Though he had never attended a professional one. No one in his family could see the point of such a thing, and even if Robert had, it wouldn’t have been proper for Jane and Julia to attend. Edmond personally found that line of thought ridiculous, because by the logic behind it, he should have fancied Daniel instead of Cassie because he’d learned to serve tea and keep his robes neat in public right along with Jane when they were small but was relatively sure he knew which of them he liked in which way, but he didn’t think mentioning that would go over any better with his foster mother than mentioning his lack of objection to the blood status of his fellow prefects would, and he’d been keeping his thoughts on that quiet for a lot longer than he’d known anything about what W.A.I.L. was objecting to.

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