Coach Amelia Pierce

April 29, 2011 10:29 AM
Spring was just beginning. It was still cool out, but compared to the cold it had been during the past months of practice, the Pitch must feel beautifully warm today. It certainly did to Amelia. While she was tempted to go with short sleeved robes, she decided to stick with the longer sleeves if only because it was a bit windy today. Cool air was one thing, cool gusts quite another.

She also tied her hair back in a tight french braid so it wouldn't get in her eyes and block her sight of the game at an inopportune time. Given how Aladren had gone after Teppenpaw during the first game of the season, she dared not risk anything impairing her ability to intervene in a timely fashion when they were up against Crotalus in the Final.

She allowed the captains as much time as they wished to use for their pre-game speeches then called them over when both looked to be finishing up. She realized as they approached that this was a battle of Heads - the Head Girl lead one team while the Head Boy lead the other. As if this match needed another reason to get messy.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Final match of the year," Amelia said, her voice assisted by a sonorus charm. "We have Aladren, lead by Captain Daniel Nash, up against Crotalus, lead by Captain Charlotte Abbott. You all know the rules; please keep to them so we can have a nice clean game today." Though, to be fair, neither Aladren nor Teppenpaw had actually broken any rules in their game and that one certainly hadn't been clean. "Would the captains please shake hands."

They did so, and she sent them back to their teams as she released first the snitch, and then the bludgers from the chest of balls beside her. Once they flew away, she picked up the Quaffle, and began the game with a countdown, "Game begins on my whistle. Three. Two. One." She threw the Quaffle into the air as high as she could, and blew into her whistle, the shrill sound piercing through the air.

She mounted her own broom, triple checked that her wand was ready for emergencies, and followed the Quaffle and the players into the air.


OOC: It's the final, so you've all done this before, but if you have any questions put them on the OOC board. Long detailed posts, and have fun!
Subthreads:
1 Coach Amelia Pierce Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus 20 Coach Amelia Pierce 1 5


<font color=white>Coach Pierce</font>

May 01, 2011 11:35 PM
It wasn't as bad as the Teppenpaw game. Amelia Pierce had repeated this to herself several times already. The reason she believed herself was that she hadn't yet had to use her wand. She'd thought, for a little while, that she'd have to for Nic when he tried his second save, but he recovered. A few other times, she'd begun to reach for it after a bludger impact, but everyone stayed in the air, and none of the injuries so far seemed serious.

And then Renee Errant turned her broom and Arthur Carey crashed into her. Amelia's coach whistle was in her mouth and blowing shrilly through the air before she even consciously thought to grab it. She was also moving her broom in their direction and her wand was in hand.

Arthur managed to stay on his broom, if only barely. Renee seemed a bit battered from the collision, but also did not loose hold over her broom. She even started to go after the Quaffle again. That was dedication to the sport.

Even as she processed these facts, she was also reviewing the chain of events. No foul, she decided after a moment. Arthur rammed into Renee, but he hadn't really been given a lot of option given her manuever. But neither had Renee intentially touched Arthur. If he hadn't been so close behind or moving so fast, he should have been at least able to avoid hitting her. Amelia had serious doubts it had been Renee's intention to get run over.

So, no fault, no foul.

She indicated that the player holding the Quaffle should give it to her, and once the red ball was in hand, she said in a charm amplified voice, "We'll be moving play back to the center of the Pitch and throwing off again. No foul."

Once everyone had reconvened in the middle of the Pitch - it didn't take long, since they weren't far from it anyway - she dropped the sonorus charm to remind the players that the medic was on hand if they needed her services, but doing so was entirely voluntary and play would not wait for them. Then she held the Quaffle aloft and recast the charm, and summarized the current status of the game for the crowd.

"We're at a score of 20 points for Aladren, 10 points for Crotalus. The snitch has not been caught. Play resumes in three, two, one." She blew into her whistle again, threw the Quaffle into the air, and dove down out of the way.
0 <font color=white>Coach Pierce</font> And we're recentering again! 0 <font color=white>Coach Pierce</font> 0 5


<font color = red>Renée Errant</font>

May 01, 2011 11:54 PM
She didn't focus on what was being said, simply breathed and watched as the Quaffle was given to Coach Pierce. Her side was hurting (burning, stinging, splintering) and she couldn't push the pain to the back of her mind. Pain was the reality here, and Renée's mind was much too focused to ignore it. Her ears were buzzing in an oddly silenced sound, bright dark brown eyes suddenly realizing that there was an audience for the game and that she was on display. Her eyes stared at the audience in the stands, gradually becoming aware of the dark curls slackened across her forehead, pinned by the beads of sweat, and her hunched over form, entire body dependent on hovering wood.

TWEEET

The whistle blew, the Quaffle was thrown, and the audience disappeared, Renée's world and reality confined to the air and the pitch. She jumped in height, hitting the ball with her hand out of the reach of an Aladren chaser, and pushed forward again to grab it as it fell. 'Es hora de ganar. Ignorar el dolor!' She pushed her broom faster, weaving in and out of players, her ears alert for any loud CRACK's in the air, and squinted through the wind as the Aladren hoops again loomed near.

A flash of red across her vision, and she rose just a little more in the air, leaning over and lunging a direct drop pass at them, watching it begin to fall within their close and able reach. A soft groan escaped from her lips as she continued on towards Aladren's goals, passing the mid point line and not checking to see yet if her pass had made it; the strain of the pass lesser than if she had lunged a throw instead of dropping it. Still, it hurt, but the pain already was beginning to ebb away... coming back in great bursts whenever a sudden movement was made. 'Focus... focus on the reality. We're still going to win... and it's still just fun to play. Focus.'
0 <font color = red>Renée Errant</font> No pain, no gain... so I guess Crotalus will be gaining alot 0 <font color = red>Renée Errant</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

May 02, 2011 8:31 AM
Well, thought Arthur, trying not to fume too much, it could have been worse.

The coach could, after all, have been nepotistic enough to favor her own House and say he had been the one in the wrong, with Miss Errant had clearly turned right in front of him, intending to stop him from making things right at any cost. And while she didn’t seem to have been seriously injured, he, too, was intact, which he might not have been if things had gone just a little differently. So it definitely could have been worse.

But it definitely could have been better, too. He gave the Crotalus girl a look that he intended to strike deep fear in her heart about what was going to happen once the game resumed, but which instead looked more like an angry glower from a twelve-year-old who hadn’t gotten his way after becoming very accustomed to doing so.

Deep down, he felt perhaps the tiniest grain of respect starting to form, but to acknowledge such a grain during the game was, his subconscious informed him, unseemly at best, traitorous at worst. So he joined the rest of his team in a fine temper.

“Won’t you get her already?” he snapped at Edmond as the teams reconvened, but his cousin was pale, looked like he was about to be sick, and didn’t seem to hear him. He turned on his roommate instead. “Preston, would you mind hurting Miss Errant for me?”

Then the Quaffle was back in the air, and Arthur wasted no time. He was still aching from his collision with Miss Errant, becoming tired from the constant back and forth and strategizing, but he looked at Miss Errant and drew determination to fly forward and fly fast and get that ball before she could touch it again.

He missed, but that didn’t deter him in the slightest. When she passed, he was ready for it, and occupied the space between her and the other Crotalus in a flash that made the entire side that had endured a collision protest, coming out with the Quaffle, which he looped around to start moving down his side.

The distance looked longer, somehow, this time, but he pushed on until he only just heard the whine of a Bludger in time to pull away from it, and it brushed his sleeve instead of breaking his arm. He put on a little more speed to pass it so it would attack anyone behind him instead – if the Crotalus Beaters wanted to get involved now, it was their own fault if it went against them – and, finding himself about five feet from one of his teammates, passed, already mentally preparing to turn around again if one of the Crotali somehow got petulant again.
0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> I think in Quidditch, it's inflicting pain that means gain 0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

May 02, 2011 8:37 AM
The game, to Russell's eyes, had descended into chaos. Pure, unrelieved, vivid black chaos. The Quaffle was changing hands almost as much as it had in the last Chimeras game he'd seen, and Edmond was playing the part of the angrily efficient Beater very well, but somehow, it all just seemed disordered and near-impossible to follow.

He guessed that had set in right after the goal, somewhere between diving for the falling Quaffle and being beaten to it by Renee and being ready to catch a pass from Arthur when it was suddenly intercepted by Crotalus' captain and then somehow finding himself at the wrong end of the Pitch watching Samantha save. He was sure logical decisions based on the circumstances had put him there, but everything had just happened so fast that he'd barely been able to take a breath between moves, never mind keep track of what he was doing. He wasn't happy to see Arthur collide with Renee, but he was undeniably, at least to himself, relieved when the game was restarted. 

Renee beat them all to it again - stupid model broom was his guess - but Arthur seemed to be either taking something personally or much more dedicated to the sport than Russell would have given him credit for, and the ball was quickly back in Aladren's possession. Russell put his broom to its best to cover in case his roommate needed or wanted to pass.

Which Arthur soon did. His failure to repeat his earlier move wasn't entirely expected, but as he caught Art's pass, Russell did feel a little relieved about it. It was evidence of Arthur still being reasonably sane when Russell had been afraid that he, Russ Layne, was slowly morphing into the token sane man, which was only bad because of how unlikely he knew it was for anyone to believe someone who was the token sane man of three groups was actually, well, sane.

He didn't have the imagination to think of anything too flashy, but did try to look as though he were going to make a drop pass right outside the scoring area before sweeping his arms back up to shoot at the left hoop, his fingers crossing as soon as the Quaffle was clear of them so his toes could take a break if they wanted.

They, as it turned out, didn't.  
16 <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font> ...I really am the token sane man, aren't I? 183 <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font> 0 5

<font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font>

May 02, 2011 9:30 AM
He'd missed again. If Charlie didn't murder him, it was possible Renee might spark off the Eliza War by coming after him for an entirely different and possibly well-founded (depending on how crazy Crotalus Quidditch made the judge) reason than what Eliza may avenge him for. And if that didn't, Nic slept in the same room as Sam, and if Sam didn't do it, there was a whole stand full of Crotalus fans who might come after him for missing not one, but two attempts on the goal.

Never mind that his life had been on the line the first time, and the Aladrens had tricked him the second time, and at the beginning of the year he couldn't quite fly in a straight line. He wanted to see any one else miss a Quaffle going through the left hoop by inches when they'd started the play most of the way over to the right one. He'd tried. Maybe if he'd fully leapt off his broom and fallen to his death instead of only half-doing so, he might have managed those last inches, but he wasn't crazy like Renee and most of the Aladren team seemed to be.

He had this thing called a self-preservation instinct and he was pretty sure most of living creatures on Earth had it too, including humanity, which made him normal and them weird.

That was just the way the it was and if you had to be completely mad to play Quidditch well, then maybe Charlie would ask him not to sign up next year and everyone would be much happier all around. It wasn't like he actually enjoyed doing something he so obviously sucked at in front of the entire school. Including Rachel Bauer.

As if too prove how unqualified he was, a loud whistle interrupted his thoughts so badly he nearly startled off his broom. He'd been idly watching the crowd of Chaser, making sure they weren't dangerously close to him, but they'd been on the Aladren side and no threat when the whistle blew and it took him entirely off guard.

He honestly had no idea why play was recentering in the middle, just that there was 'no foul' but Crotalus apparently lost ground for it anyway. Sometimes - not often, but sometimes - he thought he should maybe have someone go over some of the finer rules of the game beyond 'Keeper stops the ball from going through the three hoops on his side' and 'Game ends when the snitch is caught by a Seeker.' Those two were usually enough for him, and he seemed to be having enough trouble with the first one without adding more.

Then play resumed, and this time the whistle didn't make him jump out of his skin, so he counted that as improvement. The ball went away for a little while, but then it started coming back with a vengence and Nic groaned and readied himself to try another block.

Fortunately, aside from a feinted pass, they didn't to anything really complicated this time, and his brief reaction to that was not quite long or substantial enough to make Nic's very tall frame unable to get in its way once he did realize what was really happening.

True, he was only able to bat it away, not catch it entirely and throw to the player of his choice, but he stopped a goal attempt.

He stopped a goal. By himself. Maybe, maybe his death by Crotalus Quidditch Fans was not a given anymore. A success rate of one in three was infinitely better than a success rate of oh in two.

And maybe Rachel Bauer was a tiny bit impressed.
1 <font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font> And to my roommate, Sam Bauer, I bequeath... 165 <font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font> 0 5


<font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

May 02, 2011 10:14 AM
Sam was short and skinny, with one good arm and a lower-end-of-mediocre broom he'd inherited from his cousin many years ago. Edmond was tall and large, with one arm occupied with a weapon and, it seemed safe to assume, a much better broom than what his uncle could produce. Therefore, when Edmond, having failed to possibly literally take someone's head off with a Bludger, charged the Crotalus Chasers, Sam saw only one logical solution: he did what the fireman said and ran like hell.

It was official. That guy was crazy. With everyone scrambling for the Quaffle, he could have hit his own people as easily as anyone else. He hadn't, worse luck for Crotalus, or even earned Crotalus a free shot on his goals, but still. Sam shook his head as he steadied himself on his broom and looked for where the action was. People were crazy.

Evidence suggested Renee wasn't doing much better in the sanity department, but her crazy made him smile grimly. Making the interception under these conditions was as indicative of destructive tendencies as Edmond's rampage, but hers were at least keeping Crotalus in the running....

Or at least kept them from being completely humiliated by a bunch of nerds, two-thirds of which were first years. Daniel Nash had just intercepted, and with everyone still scattered from Edmond's one-man cavalry manouver, it was then successfully passed to the bigger firstie, who proceeded to join in the going-crazy fun and make a long run before - 

Sam blinked as the goal was made with the Quaffle nowhere in sight. He worked his aching shoulder again, to make sure that was what had been hit and not his head. The heck had just happened?

And, more importantly in the big picture, where the heck was the Quaffle?

Oh. Renee had it again. They could move on.

Between the arm and either the worst or second-worst ride on the Pitch, he wasn't much use in the increasingly sharp-edged game, but he did succeed in catching a pass from Renee just in time to have the whistle blow, forcing him to surrender it. Then, after the restart, he missed another pass, and Aladren got to the goals, again. This was just fantastic. 

At least Nic finally saved. If the score had gone 30-10 with no save between some of Aladren's goals, Sam thought Charlie might well have killed them all when it finally ended.

He didn't think he'd have much luck in the war that was about to erupt for the Quaffle, though, not at the rates Carey and Renee had been moving with it and it hadn't come in his direction anyhow, so he made his contribution to Crotalus' renaissance by trying to block one of the Aladrens. Breaking up the unit had gone pretty well for Aladren, and Sam was perfectly fine with derivative tactics. He just hoped he had better luck than Renee had, or else he was probably going to have to take Pierce up on that offer of a medic.     
16 <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font> Do I want to know the end of that sentence? 163 <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

May 02, 2011 10:25 AM
This game was completely mad. Daniel felt he had some authority on the subject of madness, and he was quite sure this game qualified. The seekers were diving at hallucinations (so far as he could tell, but he didn't have the trained eyesight of a Seeker). His beaters were obsessive (not that he was complaining). And the Chasers were . . . well the Chaser were erratic, paranoid (justly so, to be fair), and now, apparently violent.

Daniel winced as Arthur and Renee collided. Then he winced again from the sound of the Coach's whistle. She was a Crotalus, and it had technically been Arthur who slammed into Renee, even though it was obviously Renee's fault. Fortunately, a foul was not called on Aladren. Less fortunately, it was not call on Crotalus, either. But Aladren did regain some of the territory Renee reclaimed in her run for the Aladren side, so Daniel was taking that as a win. Especially since Renee now seemed to be having trouble with her ribs.

Despite her injury, Renee was somehow the fastest off the mark, but Arthur, despite his injury (if he had one; Daniel couldn't really tell), got in there and made another run for Crotalus's side. After the game, Daniel was definitely going to have to do something amazing for his team since they were doing such an increadible job today. Not that he would have expected anything less. Not after the Teppenpaw game.

Pecari, Daniel thought, could no longer lay claim to the school's most obsessive Quidditch players. Sure Aladren had previously had the Legend of Anne Wright, but this year, he felt, he may very well have a whole team of Anne Wrights. It was fantastic.

Arthur passed to Russell and Russell brought it the rest of the way to Nic Sawyer. He faked a pass to Daniel, but then took a shot, and Nic . . . Nic swatted it away. Daniel tried to go after it, but unfortunately, so did Sam Bauer. Daniel honestly wasn't sure if Sam was getting in Daniel's way to get in Daniel's way, or if he was trying to get at the ball, too, but it definitely seemed like the first. The kid managed to be sufficiently annoying that someone else got to the ball before Daniel could.
0 <font color="blue">Captain Nash, Chaser</font> Well, <i>I</i> can't claim that title, Russell 0 <font color="blue">Captain Nash, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

May 02, 2011 10:44 AM
He'd missed. Russell - caught up again, he guessed, in Quidditch madness - wanted to hit something. He had to be the one person who couldn't beat the Keeper?

Well, that wasn't fair. Arthur had likely only done it because Edmond had nearly killed the Keeper at the same time Arthur tried to beat him. But still. Was there some Carey rule saying that they could only help each other out? He'd gotten the impression, watching the twins, that their family was kind of weird, but still....

It wasn't over yet, though. The ball wasn't even going straight for a Crotalus. His good sense told him it was a bad idea, considering some of the people involved, but he told it to shut up and dove for the Quaffle. 

Coming up, somehow, with it, he didn't so much hesitate for a split second as think of doing so before - Daniel being held up by the Bludgered Crotalus - passing to Arthur, hoping the sudden shift, combined with Aladren regaining the ball, would throw the Keeper off.  
16 <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font> *Claims title*....Wait, what did I just.... 183 <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

May 02, 2011 10:53 AM
It took an effort, but Arthur managed not to glare at Russell in the second he realized that Mr. Sawyer was finally going to do what he was theoretically supposed to and keep the goals. It had been inevitable that someone would miss at some point, and that had not, as far as it went, been a bad attempt. He had to remember that, because he had to live with Russell for the next six years, and shouting at him about incompetence here would not be a step toward making that work. Plus, seeing division among the Aladrens might encourage the Crotali, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Still. A little imagination. Was it so much to ask for?

He forgave him a good deal, though, when he successfully retrieved the ball for Aladren. That, with the way Miss Errant had been flying around on that thing of hers, had taken some bravery. Was he a good enough flier that he’d avoided getting smashed to pieces between people, or was Miss Errant slowing down? Oh, Arthur hoped it was the second, hoped it so much even he realized it wasn’t proper. He’d hit her more with his shoulder than anything, but he’d grown up with Arnold and Jay, both of whom had seemed to find it fun to collide with anything that could be collided with up to the time Arnold collided with the window during a party last July. He had skills.

Then Russell passed to him, and Arthur didn’t waste any time throwing it toward the right hoop, knowing that he had seconds, if that, before the Keeper realized what had just happened and reacted to it. Thirty-ten sounded like a very nice score.
0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> I am perfectly sane, thank you very much 0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

May 02, 2011 11:17 AM
Forced to acknowlege that the eternal struggle for keeping possession of the ball wasn’t over, Renée took a moment to close her eyes, feeling where the pain was and trying to judge how bad it really was. ‘I could remove myself from the game for just a little while to get better… leave Crotalus with just two chasers.’ She couldn’t do that to her team. ‘Alright, just push past it. Do it until you black out.’ She could feel it happening. The injury hadn’t initially been bad, but the repetitive strain she was putting on it wasn’t helping. Her eyes opened and the focus she now gave, and renewed dedication helped her breathe easier, flatten herself on the broom, and take off, recovering ground as fast as her broom would allow.

Aladrens were passing in succession; she saw nothing but streaks of red bouncing off blue to blue to blue. She kept up her speed, until she saw a shot fired at the Crotalus goals and gave a groan in premptive disapointment as well as genuine physical pain. ‘No, ignore the pain. Ignore it.’ Her ribs burned and Nic had let in another –

Wait!’ The Quaffle was deflected and Renée dove beneath Sam and Daniel but saw another Aladren chaser grab the ball. She pulled just as suddenly away and sped towards the space a few feet below Arthur, trusting that Sam could block Daniel if the Aladren threw it his way. He didn’t, and Renée jumped up in height and twisted to get the pass, but she hadn’t been going fast enough and the Quaffle sailed past her. She just knew Arthur was going to make the shot. She couldn’t let him.

The Quaffle sailed to the right goal hoop and Renée sped around Nic and the middle goal hoop to slap it away, diving after it fell and grabbed it again. She let her broom go into a sort of free fall before she directed it up and sped forward, continuously going back in height until she hadn’t quite reached the midpoint line when she dove once more and passed underneath an Aladren chaser towards a Crotalus. It would be nice if a pass was completed this time.
0 <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font> Sanity has no place in Quidditch 0 <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

May 02, 2011 11:55 AM
When the whistle blew, there was one second when Edmond felt relief. Even something like happiness. It was over. One of the Seekers had caught the Snitch, and this nightmare of a game was over. They could go home.

Then Edmond heard the Coach’s voice, and felt the disappointment almost like someone had just hit a Bludger into his abdomen. Damn it, why couldn’t Arnold or Marissa catch the Snitch? He didn’t even care which one of them did at this point, didn’t care if his team won or lost, didn’t care – so long as it was over and he wasn’t – wasn’t – wasn’t being asked to start again. He could not start again.

But he had to. He stood with the other Aladrens back in the center, feeling shaky, as though he were going to fall asleep while he was ill. His arms and back hurt. He couldn’t even hear what Coach Pierce was saying. But he had to start again. He was the Assistant Captain. He had to finish the game.

The Chasers went back to fighting for the Quaffle, while he and the other Beaters tried to figure out what had happened to their Bludgers. That bothered him. He had spent so much energy keeping in control of that one Bludger, and now it was just gone. And he couldn’t tell the stupid things apart, so even when he got another one, he wouldn’t know if it was his. And he really was coming unglued if he was worrying about that at the moment his team failed to score twice in a row.

He looked at the back of Miss Errant. She was injured now. She’d hit Arthur, and had come off, it seemed, the worse of it. He could see she was in pain. It would take next to nothing to break her, throw her out of the game for a time. Nothing would work so well as cracking her skull, she’d likely be out for an hour or two and still not be allowed back in the game even if she regained consciousness, but just taking her out for a few minutes would be a huge benefit to Aladren. They could make a goal without their Chasers either having to risk a foul by ramming her or him being in exactly the right place to fire on her and Mr. Sawyer alike, as he hadn't been just now. They were better; she was just desperate and acting erratically because of it.

And men who hit women were scum. How, exactly, had he thought things had been in the shape they were when he arrived? That his sisters had done that to themselves?

It was a perfect moment for Beating, with the wind picking up again to cover the whistle of the Bludger, and a perfect target, already injured and in pain and not able to concentrate as well as she might have. This was his moment, and it was perfect, and there had never really been any other choice. He took the shot at Miss Errant, thoroughly hoping, in that moment, that he broke her to pieces.
0 <font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font> I suppose I fit in with it perfectly, then? 0 <font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font> 0 5


<font color="red">Charlie Abbott, Chaser</font>

May 02, 2011 12:06 PM
The second she realized her shot wasn't even going to make it to thi hoop because a first year opposition Chaser had planted himself in her way, Charlie felt initially surprised, followed immediately by anger, humiliation, and then that ever-present determination again. This wasn't supposed to happen - Crotalus were supposed to be pushing on the Aladren Keeper, not failing to keep a hold of the damned Quaffle. She reluctantly had to admit that the Aladren team were pulling their weight. She started attempts at sending telepathic vibes to Topher and Phoenix: forget the Seeker, take out the Chasers and Keeper!. Honestly, the Chasers right now seemed to be presenting the bigger threat. Marissa could cope catching the Snitch with luck on her side, whereas the Aladren Beaters was ensuring the Crotalus Chasers were being well and truly slaughtered. Then, just when the ball was on its way back and charlie dared to be hopeful once more, the Coach blew the cursed whistle.

Seriously? She had to wait until Crotalus were in possession of the Quaffle on the right end of the pitch to stop the game? If this was a ruse to prove her allegiances didn't necessarily lie with the Crotalus team just because she was their assigned faculty, then the Coach was seriously going to lose favor. Nevertheless, Charlotte took advantage of the brief pause on the game to assess the damage caused to her left hand. Her first and middle finger did seem to be broken, which was just spectacular, she thought dryly. Withdrawing her wand from its holster on her thigh - the place she was least likely to sustain Bludger damage - Charlie cast a binding charm on the fingers to at least hold them in place before she could get them fixed properly after the game. She didn't want to try mending them herself at this stage - she suspected she'd do more harm than good.

Replacing her wand, the Crotalus Captain joined the other Chasers in the centre of the pitch. It was a sorry sight - Daniel and his two first year flaggers looked a little windswept, but otherwise heatlhy. Renée was sitting straight and Sam looked pale to Charlie's eyes as he nursed his shoulder, and she was effectively playing one-handed. If they came through this game with any dignity in tact Charlie would be surprised. Yet, despite this, as the whistle blew once more, it was Crotalus who were first to the Quaffle. Renée made a valiant effort, but inevitably the ball progressed once more to the goalds nic was doing an exceptionally poor job of guarding. Deciding that her usual method of hanging back and waiting for the Quaffle to come to her was a lost job this game, Charlie joined Sam and Renée in breaking up the throng of Aladren Chasers.

Somehow, it seemed to have worked. Nic actually saved the goal (and potentially himself), and between them, the Crotalus Chasers succeeded in blocking their opposition, stealing the ball back, and beginning to break away once more. Charlie wasn't hugely optimistic about them managing to keep the Quaffle their end, but keeping the ball away from Nic was usually a good starting point. Plus Aladren were still ten points up, and maybe Crotalus' bad luck couldn't endure the entire match.

Making herself available, Charlie caught the pass from Renée and continued with the trek to get the leather ball back away from her team's Keeper. She passed the Quaffle iunder her left arm, being able to steer on her broomstick better with her right hand. When she saw what she believed to be a decent opening, she made a terrible job of passing the ball back across her body to her right arm, but she'd already committed to the pass, and she made it, hoping for the best.
0 <font color="red">Charlie Abbott, Chaser</font> Most of us live up to that expectation. 0 <font color="red">Charlie Abbott, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

May 02, 2011 1:08 PM
Charlie caught her pass and Renée continued on, her whole body straining with the effort, and perspiration was no longer confined to her temple; her whole body felt drenched with salt, wind, and the blood that pounded within her. So loudly she was sure everyone around her could hear it, the deafening orchestra that wouldn’t stop playing throughout her body. The wind continued to pick up and it hurt even more to keep her Febre on a straight course, to keep up the speed. But through the din of sound and pain she actually came out smiling because she felt something picking up.

Aladren goals had gotten nearer and Renée readied herself for another pass from Charlie, shifting on the wood and found a position more comfortable and straightened up a little as she flew, body still focused on the goals ahead, and her ribs’ pain actually lessoned a bit. ‘Nothing has changed. We’re still the best. We can do this. We can beat this. We will.’ Charlie passed and Renée caught, rising higher in the air and throwing the last ounces of her force into the shot she gave to the left goal hoop. She watched with bated breath as it streaked through the air. Going in… going in… SLAM.

She didn’t scream, didn’t make a sound, just fell. Her body rolled over with the force of the bludger that had chosen to slam into the very side that had been causing her all that pain. There was a crack that made its way into her consciousness, her basest instincts allowing her to grip the broom with her thighs but she was still falling… At first it felt almost like the bludger had been her cure, had healed the pain with a force greater than any other she had experienced. But then the splintering feeling had magnified by a thousand and her mouth gasped open to suck in air she couldn’t actually register and she continued to fall. ‘That… damn… shot… had… better…’ She couldn’t finish the thought, darkness rushing up to greet her.
0 <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font> This shot had better been worth it. 0 <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font> 0 5


<font color=white>Coach Pierce</font>

May 02, 2011 2:04 PM
And there it was. Amelia had known it was only a matter of time before someone lost their broom this game. She did not blow a whistle because (a) it was a straight up bludger hit so no foul, and (b) Crotalus was attempting to score, which really shouldn't make a difference, but sort of did. She tried very hard to remain an impartial referee, but she was Head of Crotalus and she did have a tiny bias on who she would like to see win this game. It was a tiny bias she was usually able to ignore, and a player losing consciousness was - somewhat cruelly, she'd realized later in life - not a play stopping event.

Her levitation spell caught the falling Chaser, and a summoning spell brought Renee's Febre broom to them as Amelia lowered them down toward the medic's tent. She did keep one eye on the Quaffle to see if the score tied up, so she could make sure Cleo could tell Renee if her goal scored when the girl woke up. It would undoubtably be her first question once she returned to consciousness.
0 <font color=white>Coach Pierce</font> Escorting the wounded from the battlefield 0 <font color=white>Coach Pierce</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">Samantha Hamilton Keeper</font>

May 02, 2011 3:54 PM
There was a lot about Quidditch that Samantha did enjoy. She liked the excitement of a game, she liked the fact that it was played on broomsticks, and she loved playing team sports above anything else. However, there was plenty she didn’t enjoy, and it all came under the main canopy title of Injury and Potential Death. Every time a Bludger hit someone she winced herself as if she’d been hit, and every time someone fell off their broomstick the third year felt dizzy and nauseated. Consequently, by the time the Coach blew the whistle Samantha was already feeling unsettled, and she was disappointed to discover that the whistle didn’t signal the end of the game – she could see the Seekers from her vantage point, and neither of them looked victorious in Snitch-catching. Apparently the collision of two Chasers had been enough to pause the game for a moment, and Samantha was relieved when the Quaffle, once back in the game, didn’t head directly back towards the goalposts she was guarding.

Inevitably, however, it did come back, and sooner than Samantha really would have liked. Two Crotalus Chasers were passing the ball between them, both looking as if they’d seen better playing days, and perhaps it was desperation to make that equalizing goal that prompted the younger of the two to make an attempt at goal that was direct, rather than encumbered with fancy trickery, and from a distance enough away that with just a little skill any keeper could have caught it. Well, maybe not Crotalus’ own Keeper, but this shot was well within Samantha’s capabilities. She lunged over to the left hoop, and with a stretch she was able to knock the ball off course. Again, she didn’t catch it – she was still improving in her first year playing this position – but she had prevented a goal.

This news was probably the last thing Crotalus wanted to hear, especially as Samantha looked up directly after knocking the ball away, hoping to spy some Aladrens in the vicinity, to see the Chaser who’d taken the shot be taken out by a Bludger. It made the Keeper feel sick, and she shuddered from head to toe as she watched the other player slip on her broom and apparently sink out of consciousness. That was exactly why she shouldn’t be up here, playing Quidditch. Now the Crotalus players were really going to get desperate – Samantha only hoped this didn’t translate into the red-clad Beaters ganging up on her for making their Chaser’s efforts futile.

She also paused a moment to consider that while Quidditch games could go on a long time, she was glad they had no set interval or half-time – in this game, if she touched ground for even a moment, there was no way Samantha would be able to convince herself to get back on a broom and get back up in the air where there was a serious risk of Injury and Potential Death. She currently placed a high value on her life and limbs.
0 <font color="blue">Samantha Hamilton Keeper</font> Battlefield is Right 0 <font color="blue">Samantha Hamilton Keeper</font> 0 5


<font color="red">Charlie Abbott, Chaser</font>

May 02, 2011 3:55 PM
“No!” Charlie shouted as Renée made to shoot for the goals. They weren’t close enough, the Keeper would get to the ball, some Aladren would intervene and it would be the same play all over again, and Charlie was bored of it. Alas, her Chaser either didn’t hear her or didn’t care, because a split-second later and the Quaffle was soaring directly towards the left hoop, and the Keeper was on target to stop it. All Charlie could think was that she didn’t want the Quaffle to go into Aladren hands again, so she kept on her way towards the hoops, with the plan that the very least she could do was intercept a pass from the keeper to one of her own, and so keep the Quaffle in the right area and with the right team. Yet what she found was one stage better: the Keeper didn’t catch the ball. She saved the goal, yes – Crotalus players would be hanging their heads in shame for a year after this – but she hadn’t caught the ball. The Quaffle was deflected back into play, and her hurry to be in the right place at the right time meant that Charlie was, in fact, in the right place at the right time. As before, she swept the Quaffle up in her good arm (swaying ever so slightly as she did so, lacking the usual balance of her left hand gripping the broom) and continued on her path forwards.

Charlie dared a precautionary glance at the keeper, who seemed to be watching something different in the field, and seemed to be distracted, in Charlie’s opinion. She didn’t want to draw her attention before she could secure ten more points for Crotalus, though, so she threw the ball as quickly as she could, getting only as close as was reasonable, and begged all known and unknown deities that her shot would make it this time. The moment the Quaffle left her hands Charlie had to return them to her broom to steady herself. Meanwhile the noise of the crowds alerted her to something going on in the game she hadn’t seen. While she was focussing on making the goal she was able to block out the noise of the spectators, but now the matter was out of her hands (literally) she was able to hear that something was happening, and it didn’t sound good.

Chancing yet another swift glance, this time over her shoulder behind her, Charlie saw the horrifying sight of Renée and her broom being lowered back down to the ground. The captain felt momentarily like she might vomit. One player down, and it was crazy, daredevil Renée, who’d stolen them the Quaffle more times than am and Charlie put together. Good Merlin this game couldn’t get any worse, could it? With that thought now plaguing her mind, Charlie snapped her attention back to the goal, where only half a second ago she’d thrown a Quaffle. Please let this game get better.
0 <font color="red">Charlie Abbott, Chaser</font> Who's winning the Battle? 0 <font color="red">Charlie Abbott, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">Samantha Hamilton Keeper</font>

May 02, 2011 3:56 PM
Watching the other girl fall from her broom was not something Samantha would easily forget. Yes, in her last game lots of people had been knocked from their brooms, but for this version Samantha practically had front row seats. She seemed to even hear the collision, though she knew that with the wind and the distance it wasn’t really true. She felt awful, and was so very much distracted by the occurrence that she barely registered the Crotalus Chaser catching the Quaffle and bringing it back her way. ’No,’ Samantha thought, ’I’ve only just gotten rid of that!’ Jumping into action, she gave her best efforts to stop the goal, but the Quaffle was already through the hoop before Samantha could do anything about it. Instead she went behind the hoop and dropped her broom, managing to scoop up the Quaffle.

It was okay, she tried to console herself for the second time that game. The scores were just equal now, Crotalus wasn’t winning. Besides, they were now a Chaser down, which made it 33% easier from Aladren, and especially for Samantha, who only had two players to watch now, instead of three. She didn’t like it when she found all the Chasers gathered round her, but two would definitely be more manageable than three. Plus trying to get a Quaffle to her own players would be easier with fewer people to intercept her pass.

With this buoying thought in mind, Samantha flew back up in front of her hoops with the red leather ball in her hands. She looked to identify the best Aladren player to receive her throw, and she passed the ball with strength that one wouldn’t expect a girl her age to have – least of all a girl her age in Aladren. Those people wouldn’t know she had been playing sports with her two brothers since as long as she could remember, and she’d had to be especially good to match their skills. It was handy to be deceptively strong from time to time, and this might prove to be one of those times.
0 <font color="blue">Samantha Hamilton Keeper</font> We are. 0 <font color="blue">Samantha Hamilton Keeper</font> 0 5


<font color=white>Coach Pierce</font>

May 02, 2011 4:30 PM
 
0 <font color=white>Coach Pierce</font> Crotalus scores! 20-20 (nm) 0 <font color=white>Coach Pierce</font> 0 5