Lets ROCK! on Quidditch Pitch

Coach Amelia Pierce

September 23, 2011 12:44 PM

Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus by Coach Amelia Pierce

It was a beautiful spring day as Amelia stepped out into the center of the Pitch, the trunk of Quidditch balls floating behind her. She let the trunk settle to the ground and smiled up into the stands. The spectators were in for a good day; Aladren and Crotalus were both excellent teams and the weather was perfect for watching Quidditch. The sun was warm, fluffy white clouds kept the Pitch partially shaded, and a light breeze kept the air light and comfortable.

She watched as the two teams gathered and the Captains gave their last pre-game speeches. Both Daniel and Charlotte would be graduating at the end of the year, and Amelia expected that could very well make this match even more exciting than it had been last year.

She gave them all the time they needed for their speeches. The weather was fine so there was no hurry to finish up and escape the outdoors this time around. Once they seemed to finish up, she called them both over and announced, with the help of a Sonorus charm, "Welcome to the final game of the year, and the final game for both of our Captains, Daniel Nash of Aladren and Charlotte Abbott of Crotalus. Captains, please shake hands."

They did so, and she sent them back to their teams. She released the snitch first, and then the two bludgers, as she continued, "The game will begin on my whistle and conclude upon the catching of the snitch by one of the seekers." She picked up the Quaffle. "Three. Two. One."

Amelia threw the ball high into the air and blew into her whistle. The game was on.

Subthreads:

Lets ROCK! by Kitty McLevy – Keeper with Arthur Carey, Chaser, Captain Nash, Chaser, Sam Bauer, Chaser, Russell Layne, Chaser, Nic Sawyer, Keeper, Coach Amelia Pierce, Renée Errant {Chaser}, Charlie, Chaser, Captain, Paul Bennett, Beater, <color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color>, Coach Pierce

Seeking all the usual things. by Marissa Stephenson,Seeker with Edmond Carey, Beater, Arnold Carey, Seeker, Topher Calhoun, Beater

Recentering by Coach Pierce with Russell Layne, Chaser, Edmond Carey, Beater

1 Coach Amelia Pierce Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus 20 Coach Amelia Pierce 1 5

Kitty McLevy – Keeper

September 23, 2011 6:40 PM

Lets ROCK! by Kitty McLevy – Keeper

This was it, the final game. Crotalus wouldn’t be nearly as easy to defeat as Pecari had been, Kitty thought as she carefully braided her hair. An unusual quietness had taken the young girl as she focused on the game ahead. The image of red robed older players, experienced players, Way more experienced than me… flitted restlessly though her mind. Shaking her head, braid whipping waspishly around her heart shaped face Kitty refused to be intimidated. Aladren is the best! There’s no way we can lose!!! Kitty chanted in her mind as she swiped a streak of brilliant blue face paint under each eye.

“We Will WIN!” Kitty said fiercely to her reflection, azure eyes alight with her competitive spirit. Her worries about the Crotalus tattering like fog in a high wind as she skipped down to the Hall for breakfast. Two eggs, wheat toast, a glass of milk, and four sausage links were quickly devoured as Kitty continued to hype herself up. All though breakfast she shifted, bounced, and fidgeted, eating so fast she hardly tasted a bite of it. Sitting still had become impossible, she needed to fly to prove that she really was worth being a part of Aladren’s team. Finally the food was gone, and in an instant she was up and running, her sneaker shod feet barley touching the ground in her rush to get to the pitch.

The day was stunning, the sky a newly minted blue with white fluffy clouds wandering like content sheep over its endless expanse. Green, green grass whispered under her shoes as she sprinted forward her eyes nearly as brilliant as the sky stretching over her head which beckoning Kitty to fling herself into its embrace. Murmurs, loud yet quiet too, was the sound of the crowd in the back ground. They waited, as she did for the game to start. Her flying feet came to a halt as she joined her team. We are the best, we are the best…Crotalus is going down! Kitty thought as she fidgeted, barely hearing Daniel’s speech as time, always fickle for her, had come to a grinding halt.

The speech may only have been minutes, but it felt like hours to the small girl as she fidgeted. Small, delicate looking hands played restlessly over her broom handle. Her run from the Hall had done nothing to blunt her energy, and had in fact only got her blood rushing wildly though her veins. Now all she wanted was to be free of the Earth, to fly and play and win. It was almost painful to stand still (relatively still…not so still) and wait, and wait, and wait.

Then the shrill sound of the whistle blew, sharp and demanding. Like a greyhound loosed on the track she flung herself up into the sky, the wind clung wildly to her, its fingers tugging pulling at her robes, her braid, almost trying to hold her back and force her to yield to gravity. Never! Free, finally free she arrowed sleekly towards her goals hers!. Aladren would win…failure was simply not an option.

0 Kitty McLevy – Keeper Lets ROCK! 0 Kitty McLevy – Keeper 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

September 23, 2011 7:38 PM

I'm more interested in winning by Arthur Carey, Chaser

Before the game started, Arthur supposed he felt anxiety, but it came less from thinking they might lose or he might embarrass himself than it was a weary certainty that in a few hours, he was going to be exhausted and possibly in pain, which would only come after he spent a lot of time being frustrated. He hated playing against Crotalus, and had been hoping they would lose in their game against Teppenpaw and spare him the trouble. They had done exactly as he’d expected them to, though, and not obliged him.

Since it wasn’t proper to say such things, though, he settled for looking carefully neutral as the team convened for the speech, a stark contrast to his twin’s obvious excitement about the game. Arthur just hoped that Arnold wasn’t going to want to draw it out; Marissa Stephenson, along with her entire team, was going to want revenge for last year, and his brother lacked proper composure. He was bound to make mistakes. Some of them might lead to game-ending head injuries.

Besides, he thought, with a faint smile, Arnold really did not need any injury that might make him even less conscious of risk. As it was, Arthur was increasingly sure that Arnie was going to break all four limbs at least twice before they graduated, and very likely a few ribs, especially once the Beaters their age grew up a little. Arnold really did not need to lose what little sense he had.

Of course, the fact Arthur was standing here didn’t speak too well of his sense, either, but he tried to ignore that part.

At least the weather was pleasant. This kind was far better than a thunderstorm for being out in.

When the whistle blew, he kicked off, noting another advantage of the weather and so the ground being this way, and, without worrying for dignity, lunged for the Quaffle. It ended up in his hands, just as planned, which meant that his task was half-done. Now he just had to arrange things so it was put through one of the goal hoops. He flew fast, thanking all goodness Aladren was the only team with all its players on decent brooms, looked for Crotali after a while, and started to feint toward one of his teammates before passing suddenly to the other and turning his broom to cut off a red robe.

They could easily make up any ground they lost this early in the game, especially since he’d gotten them well away from center and so even further from Katrina, but he saw no reason to bother with making it up if he could be avoided. Unless one of the Seekers was phenomenally lucky, this game was almost certainly going to get very dirty before it was over, and the longer it could be kept from becoming a real battle, the better, as far as Arthur was concerned. For something unlikely to affect the results, the Chasing game was very difficult.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser I'm more interested in winning 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Captain Nash, Chaser

September 24, 2011 4:42 PM

We'll win because we rock by Captain Nash, Chaser

If he didn't host regular Quidditch practices three times a week, it would have come as a surprise to Daniel that it was springtime. As it was, he had noticed the gradual change in outside temperatures from frigidly cold to almost warm. Mostly, this change filled him with dread because it meant his RATS were charging toward him at bull rush and once those hit, he'd be thrust into The Future.

In the last month or so, he'd even gradually shifted most of the planning and execution of the practices to his Assistant Captain, at least in part to spare himself the extra time that this organization would normally cost him. Mostly, though, he credited the decision to 'letting Edmond ease into the Captaincy for next year so there would be a smooth leadership transition.' That was important, too, if Aladren was going to maintain its current supremacy. Daniel had no intention of being the one at fault for losing that.

Because winning wasn't just something he wanted to do for his last and final game at Sonora Academy. It was something he needed to do. Somehow, during the last couple of years - but mostly last year - Quidditch changed from just something he did for the leadership credit on his résumé to something that actually mattered. He thoroughly enjoyed thinking of himself and his House as Quidditch Champions, and he would not let anyone down by giving any less than his all to each practice and the final game, even if it did mean putting away his RATS notebooks early last night so he could get in a solid night's sleep before the final match.

He was well rested, pumped, and nutritiously breakfasted when he arrived on the pitch with his very fine broom in near mint condition. He had dedicated most of the morning to making sure not so much as a bristle was out of line. Gathering his team together he was mostly anxious to just get started already, so his final speech of his Quidditch career was also his shortest one. After all, his team knew what it was doing already. They'd proven that by being undefeated for three years.

"We beat Crotalus last year, and we're going to do it again. We're the best team Sonora has, now let's prove it one more time. Let's go Aladren!"

He shook Charlie's hand, did not wish her luck, and smiled at her in challenge. He refrained (barely) from trash-talking her, and that only because he still wanted to be friends with her after the game.

Arthur seemed to have taken his speech to heart because he was off the ground nearly the same instant the whistle blew and grabbed the Quaffle straight off. Daniel was pleased. That boded well for Aladren next year.

He flew toward the Crotalus goals, a little ahead of Arthur, and trying to keep clear of the red-clad chasers. After a little while, Arthur faked a pass to Russell, then actually sent it Daniel's way. Daniel caught it and carried the ball closer toward Nic Sawyer. The tall kid was easily Crotalus's weakest player, so any shot that made it to the Keeper was all but a guaranteed scoring opportunity. Despite that, he thought a straight shot in was just making it too easy, even for a bad Keeper, so as he approached the goals, he stole a glance behind himself to check that he wasn't being tailed before he tried anything fancy and spotted an ally back there instead of an enemy.

Grinning, he attempted to make a discreet backward pass - not even looking to see if it was successful because that might give away what he'd done - and kept charging toward Nic, acting like he still had the ball.

0 Captain Nash, Chaser We'll win because we rock 0 Captain Nash, Chaser 0 5

Sam Bauer, Chaser

September 24, 2011 11:27 PM

Don't count your chickens before they hatch. by Sam Bauer, Chaser

As the two teams convened before the game so Charlie and Daniel could shake hands, Sam split his attention between the Aladren Keeper and the Aladren alternate. They were the source of a puzzle to him, and while he guessed he’d know the answer to it by the end of the game, he would rather somehow have it come to him in a flash of inspiration right now.

On the surface, a first year Keeper was great, especially one who didn’t look big enough to be in first year. Even assuming phenomenal talent, which usually wasn’t the case, there wasn’t enough of her for her to block anything unless she was right there; even throwing herself off her broom at the ball wouldn’t work unless she was close to it anyway. Sure, she had a fast broom courtesy of half the Aladren team having lifetime membership in the Most Ancient and Honorable Society of Rich Dudes With More Galleons Than Sense, but Crotalus could fly, too, and there was only so much a fast broom could make up for. The question was how much she had to make up for, which was why he glanced at the alternate a few times, too. Was he just really lousy at Keeper, or was the little mouse really that good?

(Under some circumstances, Sam would have considered a third possibility, which was that it was all a trick to lull Crotalus into a false sense of security and Edmond Carey was really going to “accidentally” break the poor girl’s skull for her in a few minutes so their real front man could come out, but on balance, he thought that was a little too complicated. A certain type of Crotalus might have gone in for it, but it was stupid to eliminate a resource that way, and most of that sort didn’t play Quidditch anyway. Insufficient teamwork, not to mention people generally, skills and all that. Besides, Aladren got by on sheer energy and force, not guile. Their team took a very straightforward approach to problem-solving, which was basically to identify a problem and then either outrun it or hit it with something until it ceased to be an issue.)

Either way, though, Sam wasn’t too happy about it. He had really wanted, now that Rachel had fully drawn Sam Hamilton out of the game and over to the Frilly Side, a lousy Aladren Keeper in play today.

Of course, he’d also wanted the Aladren Chasers to all forget how to tell their left and right hands apart over the summer, and that clearly hadn’t happened. As Arthur Carey ran off with the Quaffle and Sam hurried off in pursuit, the thought flashed across his mind that perhaps he should start devoutly wishing for his enemies to succeed, along with the feeling that he’d had this thought before.

He saw Arthur preparing to pass to Russell Layne, miraculously close enough that he thought he could intercept, and he pushed his broom as far as it would go and leaned forward to do so when, quite abruptly, Arthur was in his way and Daniel and Russell were both running toward the goals, the ball not with the one Sam had thought it would be. Stopping so suddenly he almost lost his seat, Sam uttered several words and phrases, some picked up from people at home and some from Charlie and one he’d made up, which his mother would have very likely jinxed him if she ever found out he’d used. About half of these were directed at Arthur without any regard whatsoever for the younger boy’s social status, and none did any more good than he had regard, because he saw the backward pass Daniel made but was completely helpless to do anything about it from his position. There was no way he could catch up in time.

Still, he had to try, if only so he could be in the general area when the ball came back into play. Diving, he headed for the goals, regaining altitude as he went in the hopes that he could avoid Bludgers by not holding to straight line. This one was theirs, crazy Aladrens and their brooms or no crazy Aladrens and their brooms.

16 Sam Bauer, Chaser Don't count your chickens before they hatch. 163 Sam Bauer, Chaser 0 5

Russell Layne, Chaser

September 24, 2011 11:40 PM

I think the shells are already cracking. by Russell Layne, Chaser

Crotalus had changed one Beater, but otherwise, Russell found the scene in front of him on the day of the last Quidditch game very familiar. The main difference wasn’t that one Beater, or even Aladren’s new Keeper, but his awareness of what Crotalus could do on the Pitch and what Aladren, likewise, could do when put under a little stress.

Crotalus played. They played hard. But at the end of the day, Aladren was more determined and less sane, and that would carry the day. Russell felt confident of that even before Daniel’s brief speech said basically the same thing. He had a great and enduring faith in Edmond Carey’s ability to fill a hospital tent with any and all unfortunate souls who came between Aladren and victory, and an equal certainty that Arnold Carey was the craziest short guy on a broom this side of the Mississippi. As long as those two things continued to be true, winning shouldn’t be a problem, and Russell had only two personal objectives for the game. The first was to not get so injured that they had to take him out of play entirely, and the very close second was to score at least once. Even if he didn't, though, he knew he could assist Daniel and Arthur well enough that the ball should never even get anywhere near Kitty.

Should never. Definitely not would never, but the first moments of the game were a step in the right direction. Russell even thought that Arthur was passing to him until the last moment, when the ball went instead to Daniel and down the Pitch from there, ever on toward the set of goal hoops, normally indistinguishable from the ones at the other end of the Pitch, Crotalus wanted to keep it far away from.

The game, it seemed, had begun right away. He gave it five minutes, tops, before they all went very prettily off the deep end, Crotali and Aladrens together.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been after a successful feint happened so early in the game, but Russell was caught a little by surprise by the sudden back-pass Daniel made to him. Luckily, though, three practices a week made some things more about reflex than any conscious thought on his part, and catching the Quaffle was one of those things. With a narrow bit of field indeed between him and the goals, Russell felt his hands close on the red ball.

Quickly, and praying that Daniel continuing his run on the Keeper proved a successful diversion, Russell threw the Quaffle toward the left goal hoop with all the force and accuracy he could muster, trusting to luck and the increases in arm strength and hand-eye coordination brought about by two years of this to put the ball where it belonged. As long as Nic Sawyer hadn’t gotten a lot more skilled or phenomenally lucky in the past year, he thought he had a decent chance of success, especially since Daniel was a much more distracting object than Russell. Much more of a threat.

Sometimes, he still felt a bit inadequate in the company of his roommates and some others in Aladren, but there were many times when being exactly the kind of mild-looking, not-notorious, shortest-Chaser-of-the-three person he was came in handy. Now he just had to hope this was one of them.

16 Russell Layne, Chaser I think the shells are already cracking. 183 Russell Layne, Chaser 0 5

Nic Sawyer, Keeper

September 25, 2011 12:34 PM

Well, something is cracking by Nic Sawyer, Keeper

Nic was improving. Given where he'd started from, that wasn't saying a lot, but the broom brought him where he told it to go now at about the speed he wanted it to go without too many hi-jinks along the way. This meant he was already waiting at the goal posts when the Aladrens made it there with the Quaffle. He didn't beat them by a lot, mind you, but he was in position and as ready as he was going to get.

He hadn't seen who got the ball straight off. He assumed it was an Aladren mostly because the Quaffle had come to visit him so quickly. Now, it was Daniel who had the ball. That wasn't good. Daniel was the oldest and most experienced of the Aladren Chasers.

His ability to block had been improving nearly as much as his flying skills, too. His arms were longer than they had been and he had mostly figured out where they ended now. But Charlie still got far more shots past him during a normal practice than he stopped (though he was up to a success rate of almost one in three instead of the one in seven he'd been at earlier in the year), and he didn't think Daniel was going to be any easier.

Rachel was probably watching, though, and he was going to do his very best to bring her to the ball a Champion this year. He kept his eye on Daniel, determined not to let the Head Boy score on him on this first attempt of the game. He seemed to be going for the right hoop, so Nic inched over that way, careful not to get too far away that he couldn't get back to the center one if the seventh year tried to be tricky.

He was wise to be on his guard against tricks, but he'd apparently started watching for them too late. Nic realized as Daniel got closer that he didn't actually even have the ball anymore. Feeling more than a little stymied, Nic tried to find where the Quaffle actually was. A glance at the other two Aladren Chasers showed him the little one - Layne - had the ball now and he was going for the far hoop. Nic dove for the left side, and almost, almost, made it in time. His fingers just barely brushed against the leather of the ball as it sailed passed, knocking it slightly off-course but not enough.

Cursing under his breath, Nic collected the ball after it had gone through, and then tossed it back into play, aiming for one of his own team's chasers and hoping fervently that the Crotalus trio would get it far away from his end of the pitch and keep it away hereafter. And preferably score many times on the tiny thing Aladren had put on the other set of goals as if to mock him.

1 Nic Sawyer, Keeper Well, something is cracking 165 Nic Sawyer, Keeper 0 5

Coach Amelia Pierce

September 25, 2011 12:35 PM

Aladren scores! 10-0 (nm) by Coach Amelia Pierce

1 Coach Amelia Pierce Aladren scores! 10-0 (nm) 20 Coach Amelia Pierce 0 5

Sam Bauer, Chaser

September 25, 2011 5:40 PM

Let's try this again.... by Sam Bauer, Chaser

On the bright side, Sam made it to the goal area without getting hit by a Bludger. Hopefully, this was because they were either busy holding off his team’s Beaters or just thought he was not worth killing and not because they were busy breaking every bone in Marissa’s body.

On the dim side, Aladren had scored. At least it had been a close thing. Sam thought Nic’s fingers had actually brushed the Quaffle as it went through the hoop. That boded well for the next time, if he and the girls were sloppy enough to let there be a next time. It was never really pleasant to remember that Aladren goals weren’t just about Nic and the Aladren Chasers. There was a Crotalus Chaser element in there, too, unless someone tried to run the length of the Pitch with the ball, and if that kind of move succeeded, then there was probably a Crotalus Beater problem.

But no more problems. The Quaffle was theirs again, and it was going to stay that way. When it was thrown back, Sam grabbed it, wrapped an arm around it, and started moving toward the Aladren end as fast as he could.

Knowing that either Aladren Beater could easily fly to wherever a Bludger was, catch up to him, and knock him out of the air all before he could move very far from the position the guy had first spotted him in, though, he didn’t want to carry it too far that way. It was as nerve-wracking to try to judge how far to go as anything. He was probably the Crotalus player the Aladrens were least interested in hurting, since Renée was crazy and Charlie was Charlie and the Beaters had weapons and Nic did save sometimes and Marissa was looking for the Snitch, but the guy with the Quaffle was always a target, which made it smart not to hold on for too long. On the other hand, though, Aladren would want to score again immediately, probably, and probably would if they got the Quaffle back close to the Crotalus goals. It hadn’t been too bad when Crotalus was the one sitting in front of a Pecari Keeper and shooting at their leisure for like five minutes before finally deliberately letting Pecari have the ball back for a few seconds, but it was bound to end badly if Aladren got a chance to do that with Nic.

Finally, when the prickling feeling on the back of his neck began to feel very pronounced, he looked for an opening and tried for a short pass, willing it to work in the unexpected event that he turned out to have a hitherto-unrevealed ability to make things happen with his brain. It just had to go a few feet without an Aladren materializing out of the clear blue sky (were the elements biased? That would have made cloudy weather pro-Crotalus, since it was gray, but they would have as much trouble in foul conditions as anyone else, so…) to intercept, just a few feet…

Dude, he admonished himself when he caught the edge to that thought. Relax. We’ve been playing for like two minutes, and we’re in control of the ball now. It’s all good. Besides, listening for Bludgers is more important, because we haven’t got an alternate.

They were really going to have to do something about that next year, blackmail Paul’s roommate or kidnap favored relatives of the firsties or something. No one really wanted a reserve to come in, since in theory the person already out there was the best, but Crotalus was the only team in the school that would be in deep, deep trouble if their Seeker took such a bad injury that the medic wouldn’t let her come back, if she was even conscious enough to argue with the woman about it. Something about that just seemed wrong to him, even wrong-er than the way two teams had undergone similarly massive turnovers and Aladren come out on top of everything last year while Pecari had yet to really get back on its feet. Crotalus just…didn’t come in last; as cynical as Sam sometimes was about his House, he couldn’t help but, deep down, still believe that a little.

16 Sam Bauer, Chaser Let's try this again.... 163 Sam Bauer, Chaser 0 5

Renée Errant {Chaser}

September 25, 2011 6:35 PM

Pocketful of Rain by Renée Errant {Chaser}

The championship. For the three years she'd been at Sonora, been on the team, they'd reached the championship, faced off against Aladren, and lost. Renée wasn't sure what she thought of that. She was thinking about it, but very little feeling was attached to it, good or bad. It was spring, sunny, and beautiful around her, but within her mind she was mounting in the rain. Cool droplets - drip drip drip - hitting faster and colder as she rose in the air, the whistle sounding her off. She wasn't sad or anything, just feeling a bit gray. Paste and cement and early morning dew that dampened and stained her clothes when she laid on the grass. She didn't know why, she didn't know why, she didn't know why, but she knew that the year was ending, summer was approaching, and with summer came family and with family came Soledad, and Oro, and David who was her father, who wasn't her father, and Marianna who didn't care, who went to work and made pretty dresses and traveled and Gabriel who traveled and wrote short letters that meant nothing and had children who would never know him, never know her, and Renée knew too, that it was really raining, her hair slacking, her fingers shaking, and as she reached for the red leather bound ball she knew too that someone else was going to get it.

Renée closed her eyes for a second, leaning on her broom, breathing, smelling wet dogs, and wet trash, and the steam from hot dog carts, and sweet honey pretzels that sickened the air in the muggle mall David liked to take her to. Brooklyn seemed so far away today. She wanted to dismount. She didn't want this broom, her broom, she wanted the ground, something firm and reliable and she hadn't even wanted to play this year anyway. 'Yes I did.' Yes, she did. She needed this cold, freezing air. Needed to drown in the flood sent for her, only her, from the sky. Her lungs gave way to gills and dark brown eyes opened, watching somebody dive for red, red passing back and forth, red scoring, red caught, red coming back toward her. The Quaffle. And Sam. Renée flew beside him, not altogether there, dampened from the continuosly pouring rain. She wasn't flying, she was swimming. Over the waves Sam tossed her the ball and she caught it easily, bending parallel to her Febre broom and shot off, Quaffle tucked beneath her arm. 'Go, go, go! There are sharks after you, go!' She swam faster, and at the possible intrusion of an Aladren swerved suddenly to the left, raised herself quickly on her broom, pulled back her arm and made a quick hard arched shot to her fellow Crotalus chaser.

Her body was focused, hands and feet and legs and thighs, everything melding into the broom. A broom that Marianna had got her because Marianna was good with gifts and words that inspired and actions that betrayed. Marianna was good at being loved, and good at making you feel loved until she stopped, and grew bored or forgetful, and suddenly the love was gone but the light kisses were still there and the warm hugs that smelled like cinnamon. Marianna was a pretty shell, comforting and gone. Today Renée's mind was caught by the rain, her body slashing through the sun, weaving in and out through air particles and she was ready to win, ready to fight, ready to fly and to swim. As long as she didn't have to come back down to the ground. She could stay up here forever and fight (play) and win. Her eyes briefly left her mind to see the actual game, waiting for either Crotalus to catch or Aladren to intercept. She didn't care; she just wanted to fly.

0 Renée Errant {Chaser} Pocketful of Rain 0 Renée Errant {Chaser} 0 5

Russell Layne, Chaser

September 26, 2011 1:47 AM

...Would soak through the pocket and make a mess? by Russell Layne, Chaser

It was a close miss, but there was still nothing to call Russell’s attempt at an interception but a miss. He grimaced in frustration over it. Intercepting from Sam Bauer was a lot easier than chasing down Renée Errant, whose broom was better.

It was, though, the same one she’d been flying on for at least a few years, while the one he was technically borrowing was newer and shinier. Russell found himself smiling in what he imagined was a not very nice way as he kept up, something he would have had no chance of doing last year. Maybe a bit of him, in the very back of his head, still felt like this wasn’t doing things right, somehow, but it was easy enough to ignore when he compared it to the frustration of not being quite able to keep up with the other guys.

Plus, he was a twelve-year-old boy. It was against his nature not to be pleased with the upgrade, however it had come about or however temporary it might prove.

Maybe he was feeling a little too pleased with himself and his improved chasing capabilities after his goal, though, because he didn’t react fast enough when Renée suddenly veered off-course. She was going left, he was still going straight, and by the time he turned, he was sure the ball would already be in someone else’s possession.

His hope was that the others had, knowing that she liked fancy moves the way other people liked ice cream, surrounded her and not made their moves too soon. He didn’t think it was an unreasonable thing to hope for. Daniel and Arthur were good, so he thought at least one had probably followed her. If the ball stayed in Crotalus control through this, it wouldn’t for much after it.

In the meantime, he tried to block the Chaser he’d interrupted the original pass to from going to make a new formation. Maybe limiting the passing options of the Crotali would make someone try to cover the whole Pitch, but he didn’t think so, and the Beaters would put them on the ground if they tried even if Kitty wasn’t up to saving, which practices suggested she was. He thought this was going to work out for them.

Or maybe he really was feeling too pleased about that goal. He guessed they’d find out, one way or another.

16 Russell Layne, Chaser ...Would soak through the pocket and make a mess? 183 Russell Layne, Chaser 0 5

Captain Nash, Chaser

September 26, 2011 12:01 PM

Sounds about right to me. by Captain Nash, Chaser

It wasn't hard to figure out when Nic noticed Daniel's hands were empty and the gig was up. He'd kept the Keeper's attention long enough though, if just barely. Russell scored and Daniel cheered, and the all turned around to fly back toward Kitty. Daniel had no intention of letting the Quaffle get that far though.

He hadn't been in a position to stop the pass from Sam to Renee - he'd been guarding Charlie at that point - but when Russell fell back in his pursuit, Daniel changed strategies a little bit, rising in altitude for a diving interception that the Crotali hopefully wouldn't see coming.

The opportunity presented itself not long after that, and Daniel took it, dropping into a sharp dive that took him right in the path the Quaffle was taking at just the right moment (he remembered, breifly, that one of his very first interception attempts had not been nearly so well timed, and mentally applauded himself on his improvement over the years). He snatched the red ball into Aladren possession once more and made a tight turn to bring himself back into the correct direction.

He was a little too far out now to make a run for the goals again already, so he regained the altitude he'd lost in his dive and watched for an opening to pass to one of his teammates. He made a fair run back, recovering not quite half of the ground they'd lost, when one such opening did present itself. Daniel took it and threw the ball to the other blue-clad Chaser.

0 Captain Nash, Chaser Sounds about right to me. 0 Captain Nash, Chaser 0 5

Charlie, Chaser, Captain

September 26, 2011 12:23 PM

That's mine. by Charlie, Chaser, Captain

Although she had fully expected to suffer great tremors of excitement and anticipation at this, her final Quidditch game, and yet another championship match against Aladren, Charlotte was surprised to find that her internal fireworks were really more like the snap, crackle and pop of a breakfast cereal than the life-altering spectacular of an Epcot show. For the last time, she laid out her freshly pressed Rattlesnake robes; for the last time she gave her broomstick its final check-over, scrutinizing every twig in its tail to ensure they were clipped to perfection. Despite her successful sports career at Sonora, the seventh year had no intention of continuing to play Quidditch at college. This game marked the end of an era, which was perhaps why her feelings tended as much towards a melancholy resolve as they spurred her well-honed competitive streak. So long as she gave it her all this game, she didn’t really even mind whether her team won or lost, not that she’d even consider revealing this to them. Naturally it would be wonderful to leave on a Quidditch high note (not to mention laud it over Daniel for the remaining few weeks) but with everything else that would be changing in her life, she doubted one more loss to Aladren would really make all that much difference.

“Hey everyone,” Charlie greeted the rest of the team cheerfully (she wondered whether the impending end of her captaincy was relieving the pressure it had caused her to feel in previous years, and hence her comparatively light-hearted attitude for the past term compared to the rest) in the bright morning sunshine. The few light clouds would help when they blocked the sun, but otherwise vision was going to be an issue from time to time. They’d deal with it. “Let’s try to win today, yeah?” Quite possibly the shortest speech she’d ever made, and by no means the least encouraging. She didn’t need to tell them to avoid the Beaters, or keep the Quaffle away from Nic, or to let Marissa know that the pressure was on her to not get beaten by the same kid again – it was redundant. Everyone here knew what they had to do.

As Coach Pierce called the captains forward to shake hands, Charlie couldn’t help noticing that her name and Daniel’s sounded good when called together. She was fairly certain they looked good together, too; it was a complete and total shame that Daniel didn’t see her like that. Luckily, Charlie had been fortunate enough to add James to her long list of seventh year distractions (that had also included college applications and RATS preparation as well as her usual duties of being Head Girl and Crotalus prefect and Quidditch Captain), which was why she was able to simply return Daniel’s challenging smile with their handshake with only the smallest tinge of regret. A phenomenal friendship was, in many ways, better than a potentially mediocre romantic relationship, anyway.

Pushing these pointless musings resolutely to the back of her head where they wouldn’t interfere with her game play, Charlie gave her team one last thumbs up before mounting her broom and awaiting the coach’s whistle. It came; she kicked off from the relatively soft ground, in no hurry to be first to the ball. Let Aladren take the Quaffle first if it pleased them – the first Chaser to the ball was by no means a reliable indicator of how the game itself would play out. Admittedly, she would have preferred it if the opposition hadn’t kept the Quaffle long enough to actually get to Nic and score – that was a little disappointing so early on in the game, yet Charlie still couldn’t find it in her to be altogether dismayed. A little stress was probably good for Nic. He was a great distance indeed from pulling his own weight (as his own weight was more or less equal to two female Chasers or both Crotalus Beaters combined, if his height was any indication) for the team, though, to be fair, he had been very close on making that save, and it hadn’t been an easy shot, so far as Charlie could tell from her distance around half way down the pitch. There was no point crowding the scoring area when René and Sam were already up there to get the ball; she was much better placed where she was, further down the pitch and generally out of the way, waiting for them to bring the Quaffle to her.

In due time, that is, of course, what happened. Sam caught Nic’s pass, and then he passed across to Renée, all the time moving further from Nic, and closer to the teeny little Aladren Keeper. They were like a well-oiled machine, and that certainly hadn’t changed from the last time they were up against the Hawks. Very little had changed, in fact, aside from one Beater on the Crotalus team (and Paul was already doing better than Phoenix had a year previously – she had high hopes for him), and the Keeper on the Aladren team who was.... too small to be a keeper, surely. It was like Aladren had specifically sought out the smallest person in the entire school and stuck her in goal. Charlie couldn’t fathom why, but then she’d never really understood Aladren reasoning. The whole house was certifiably insane, none more so than the Quidditch team. Keeping the Quaffle out of their possession was no doubt recipe to make them even more nuts than usual, and yet that’s precisely what Charlie intended on doing... if only Daniel would get the hell out of her way for a moment or two so she could join in the game. She would grudgingly admit that he’d somehow turned into a reasonable Chaser over the years, but right now that truth was monumentally frustrating. She tried to shake him off by swerving off her current path and turning back in towards Renée, and for a split second she thought it had worked: Charlie saw the Quaffle sailing towards her.

No! The idiot had gone in and taken the Quaffle. Her Quaffle. Charlotte was fuming; somehow the fact that it was Daniel who’d intercepted the pass mattered more than the interception itself. The indignation was sufficient to cause a fierce determination that only ever showed itself during Quidditch games, and usually not so close to the start of a game. She followed him resolutely as he turned tail, and scrupulously watched his every motion. When he moved to pass, she was there as fast as lightning, shooting out into the Quaffle’s path, and scooping it up to safety. Take that, Daniel Nash.

Victorious and satisfied, Charlie aimed to channel this emotion to the benefit of her team. She wasted no time in taking the Quaffle back to where it should have been already in her hands without that cumbersome interruption. She wasn’t really close enough just yet to score, so she expertly scanned her surroundings, and while there were more blue clad players around than she really would have liked, she saw a relatively safe opening and took it, hoping her pass would be caught by one of her teammates, and that within the next couple of minutes they would score the equalizing goal. She didn’t care how good this miniature Keeper was – this was her first championship game and her first experience of playing against Crotalus Chasers. The kid was doomed.

0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain That's mine. 0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

September 29, 2011 11:09 PM

Mine by Arthur Carey, Chaser

For a moment, Arthur was sufficiently surprised by Mr. Bauer’s diatribe that he didn’t react to it at all. He knew such language existed, he wasn’t that sheltered, but he had never expected to have it directed at him to his face. Grandfather sometimes spoke very poorly of him when he didn’t realize Arthur was eavesdropping on a conversation, but even he never vocalized even a quarter of his vitriol in a direct confrontation.

It was almost refreshing, in a way. Allowing too much repetition wouldn’t be acceptable at all, and he’d do something unpleasant to anyone who spoke to him that way off the Quidditch Pitch even once, but for a moment, it was like he was like everyone else. The experience was novel enough that he was able to shrug off the profanity for the moment, especially since it was just a result of one of his plans having worked out the way he’d wanted it to. Another time, he might have been offended no matter what the circumstances, but right now, things were going his way. Mr. Bauer was not able to get in the middle of things to prevent the shot on the Crotalus goals, which made Arthur smile fondly for a moment as, ignoring anything else Mr. Bauer had to say, he prepared for the next move of the game. He still wasn’t very likely to turn out to be the kind of useful friend that Preston was, but Russell Layne was an acceptable fellow.

Then, to Arthur’s irritation, the ball started changing hands a lot. Neither team seemed able to hold onto it for more than a few seconds. In fact, he now thought all six of them had carried it at least a little way.

Goals were good. This moving a few feet one way and then the other, neither team really getting anywhere, was not, not least because it meant they were all close enough to still for the Beaters to come into play. He would rather not have that happen, so when Miss Abbott passed, he swept in to intercept it and succeeded.

The Crotali had gotten closer to Katrina than he really liked, so he went perhaps a little further back the other way than he usually would have, trusting his roommate and his cousin to keep him reasonably safe. It worked, at least long enough for him to find another Aladren Chaser and attempt a pass. Now, he just hoped that they could hold onto it longer this time.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser Mine 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Sam Bauer, Chaser

September 30, 2011 1:12 PM

Mine! by Sam Bauer, Chaser

Sam had expected the Aladrens to be kind of irritating. This was, as far as he could tell, a natural inclination of theirs – or at least, he amended, since he liked the Other Sam, of the male members of the House. The younger they were, the worse they were about it, too.

That was where the real surprise of the day was for him so far. The majority of the team had been slightly more annoying when they were first years than they were now, but considering just how annoying they had been then, that wasn’t saying much for how they were now. The worst one of all, and not just because he was the one currently in Sam’s way, was Layne. Last year, he had been Sam’s Aladren counterpart, the scrawny guy whose broom probably wouldn’t even be stocked in the same shop as his teammates’. Now, just because Layne’s teammates were able to afford nice toys for everyone, it was like that bond had never existed. Sam was frankly disgusted. He had thought they really shared something in common, like they came from the same place or something.

The rest of the world was as lacking in honor out here as he was, it seemed. Oh, well.

Not wasting time and energy on saying anything this time, he veered around the class traitor (though, come to think of it, he was pretty sure Layne was almost rich anyway, and was only really normal compared to the likes of Stratford and Daniel Nash and that homicidal outfit of Careys and Distant Cousin; he’d probably look as far down his nose at Sam as the rest of them, if not further, the bourgeoisie loser), exploiting a slightly greater skill on a broom, but it was too late to keep the ball from going back to Aladren. Then Crotalus…Then Aladren again. Curse those meddling kids.

How he was in place to intercept the next pass, he really had no idea, and was now slightly worried for his broom’s structural integrity despite the whole going-around thing making it make a modicum of sense, but he didn’t really have time to think about it. He had to make up some of that ground.

Some. Not huge amounts, because while he might have yelled at a Carey, he wasn’t completely suicidal. Paul and Topher were good meddling kids, and it was nothing against them, but he really wouldn’t wager on them against Edmond and Preston. When he saw an opening, he passed again.

16 Sam Bauer, Chaser Mine! 163 Sam Bauer, Chaser 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

September 30, 2011 6:02 PM

Mine. by Arthur Carey, Chaser

He tried to tell himself that he only minded failing if he didn’t learn something from the failure, but the truth of it was, Arthur didn’t like to see his efforts stymied by much of anything, but especially not by the sheer dumb luck of others.

For a moment, then, when his pass was intercepted by Mr. Bauer, his face went blank, as it often did under stress, and he had a brief desire to throw something at the fourth year. Then, as his expression of concentration came back, he followed, fully intending to get the Quaffle back.

That didn’t take long. When the ball moved again, so did Arthur, and though there was always the moment of stomach-clenching anxiety when he worried about crashing into the others and someone, possibly him, getting hurt or being the one the coach didn’t catch quite quickly enough, he forced that feeling down and came out of the mix with the Quaffle between his hands. Shifting it so he could get one hand back on his broom, he sped up to regain the ground back toward Mr. Sawyer.

He wished he could just dismiss the Crotali, but something in the back of his head was telling him it was a bad idea. It was a faint feeling, but it was a persistent one, one that wouldn’t quite go away. He didn’t know why, since he didn’t think they’d ever formally been introduced and he certainly hadn’t done anything to the other fellow, but he thought he’d seen that new Beater Crotalus had giving him odd looks through the year – sometimes assessing, sometimes almost angry, for some reason, and never anything friendly. He also seemed to think that Arthur didn’t notice, and that he was very stealthy about it all.

Arthur hoped he hadn’t been that stupid last year, and in fact wasn’t that stupid this year. It was always something he had to consider. Perhaps he thought he was better than he was, both on the Pitch and off it. He hoped not, though, because he had what he thought was a perfect opportunity for a pass in front of him, and as he feinted toward one teammate, then the other before passing to the original one, he thought he would be very cross if it turned out that anyone could have seen that coming at a great distance. He had never liked the idea that he had to be much older in order to be much good at anything. Perhaps the Fourth had spent most of his life being old, but most people just didn’t.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser Mine. 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Captain Nash, Chaser

October 01, 2011 10:29 AM

Now, children, let us settle this calmly. It's mine. by Captain Nash, Chaser

There was something truly irritating about Charlie stealing one of his passes. Nevermind that he had effectively just done the same thing to her, and turnabout was, by nearly all accounts, fair play, but he still didn't like it. Of course, it would have been equally if not more irritating if it had been one of her smaller teammates just because Renee was almost supernaturally annoying on the Pitch and Daniel felt he should be better than Sam if only because of age and broom cost, but Charlie had her own brand of Interception Irritation.

He got over it, though, and watched the next few passes knock back and forth like a dizzying tennis match. He was never in a good position to get his own hands on the ball though Arthur's aborted pass had been intended to be his had the Quaffle made it that far.

Arthur got it a second time (a feat which resulted in a cheer from both the Aladren stands as well as the team Captain) and Daniel flew back toward the Crotalus goals, trying to keep away from the Crotali Chasers so Arthur would have a clear pass.

The other Aladren looked like he would take Daniel up on it, and then made as if to pass to Russell instead, and then did toss to Daniel after all. It was only because he was watching that direction to make sure the pass succeeded that he even realized there had been a double fake, and he barely got his hands up in time to catch it.

He hunched over the ball, trying to hide that he had it, and charged back toward Sawyer. Before he could get close enough to really threaten the goals, though, he thought he heard a crack of a wooden bat on metal and, though the sound could as easily have been made by Preston or Edmond as the Crotali, he decided he had held onto the ball long enough and he wasn't going to go for a shot after all.

He saw an opening to pass and took it, hoping his teammate could finish the run and bring the score up to twenty-zip. Only after the red ball was out of his hands did he look around to see if there was actually a bludger on his tail.

0 Captain Nash, Chaser Now, children, let us settle this calmly. It's mine. 0 Captain Nash, Chaser 0 5

Charlie, Chaser, Captain

October 01, 2011 1:41 PM

You wish by Charlie, Chaser, Captain

There was a lot to said for being in the right place at the right time. Charlie wasn’t sure that she’d often encountered the benefits of such a luxury; she’d earned her place as Quidditch captain by being on the team since her first year and working hard alongside the previous captain (who, admittedly, was her brother, but Charlie hadn’t slacked off just the same). There were plenty of other people in her yeargroup, so she hadn’t landed prefect or Head Girl by accident or forfeit, and she had very frequently found herself to be in the wrong place, or there at the wrong time, in a variety of scenarios, from dance auditions to potential relationships that were inevitably doomed to fail. She supposed if she could have selected for herself when this phenomenon of optimum time and location would present itself to her, during the Quidditch Final might have crossed her mind as an agreeable period. The law of averages dictated that it had to have happened, sooner or later, that she was simply in the right time and the right place to steal the Quaffle mid-pass between Aladrens; between Daniel and one of his teammates, to be precise. That it happened twice in one game just demonstrated to Charlie that despite Aladren’s apparent improvement on last year’s efforts, Crotalus still had the better Chasing team... or at any rate, she was better than Daniel.

Her own pass hadn’t gone entirely as planned, given that a little Carey got in her way and tried to take the Quaffle back away. Luckily, Sam was on the ball – literally, in this case – and retrieved it back for them. Then Charlie had watched, as if in slow motion, as Arthur got in and took the ball a second time. Were there two of this kid or something? She was vaguely aware he had a twin, but the other mini Carey was supposed to be Seeker, right? Probably only one of them on the Chasing team, then, which forced the Crotalus captain to draw the frustrating conclusion that Aladren really had upped their game from last year. Considering their game then had left most of her team being treated by the medic, that didn’t bode especially well for Crotalus. On the other hand, they still had a full team, and even if Nic... Oh no, the Quaffle was heading back towards Nic. They were already ten points down. Another goal wouldn’t change the outcome of the game, but it would be humiliating. The only thing for it was to embrace the Crotalus tradition of the past few years: get down the other end of the pitch and get the Quaffle away from the Crotalus goals before it was too late. It was just as well Charlie actually liked Nic, or she very well might have killed him following one of his many previous failures. The fact that she had to beg and bribe him to rejoin the team again this year, as nobody else had signed up, was neither here nor there.

Despite him trying to hide it, Charlie had seen the Quaffle land once again in Daniel’s hands. She didn’t even have interception in mind as she flew ahead of him, simply aiming to get in the way of whoever tried to take a shot at goal – she even thought Daniel might try for goal himself, until he made an abrupt pass that enabled her, by jolting, swerving and stretching more than a Carey would believe an eighteen year old girl could do, to knock the ball off course, and then chase it with her fingertips, pulling the ball in close to her chest as her heart thumped its way out of it. She was dimly aware that a Bludger had been hit somewhere nearby, and that’s probably what had forced Daniel to pass when he could have scored, and she grinned outwardly as inwardly she blessed whichever Beater – be he Crotalus or otherwise – that had enabled her team to regain possession, however briefly.

While the knowledge of a Bludger being hit nearby, without the comfort of knowing it was towards the opposition, heightened Charlie’s anxiety, she was nevertheless keen to do all that was in her power to keep the ball away from Nic. She took a longer run than she usually would have back down the pitch, keeping her ears honed for the whistle of a Bludger that may or may not be on her tail, and only after she’d put a reasonable (but not sanity-questioning) distance between her point of interception and her current bearings. Then, when she saw a decent enough opening to one of her teammates, she took it, keeping the pass clean and simple. She didn’t think the more confusing ones were any more difficult to intercept, and she wasn’t trying to baffle the newbie Keeper just yet – just getting into the scoring zone would be an improvement on their game so far. Merlin, if Marissa could catch the Snitch right now it probably wouldn’t be too soon for their team.

0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain You wish 0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain 0 5

Renée Errant {Chaser}

October 01, 2011 3:46 PM

Okay, can we safely assume it's ours now? by Renée Errant {Chaser}

Rain splattering on red and blue robes had created a sort of water color painting, not yet dry, still dripping, that made it hard for Renée to follow. She was still flying, back and forth, circling the field, trying to get a hold of passes, make interceptions, growing increasingly startled by her failures and even more by the prickle of self disgust growing within her. 'I'm not perfect... nobody's perfect... but I'm supposed to be here!' She was supposed to be perfect in the air, and she wasn't supposed to feel bad when she wasn't in the air, and nothing was going right. It was raining (it was not), she was miserable, she felt heavy, she felt like she was sinking in the air (she wanted to sink), like the wood, sleek as it was, fast as it was, couldn't sustain her. Bludgers whizzed over her head. She longed for the excuse to leave the game. 'Take me out. Take me out. Take me out.' It didn't though, so she kept flying, arms reaching out, for the Quaffle, gaining nothing but air. 'Useless... worthless... Yo quiero ir a casa.'

In between freezing droplets, Charlie suddenly appeared and Renée realized they were heading toward Aladren goals. She blinked, arms again stretching out, hands again not expecting to feel anything. But something suddenly made contact, leather against soft skin, and darkly tanned fingers curled around it, gripping tightly. 'Oh. Oh - oh right. Okay. No big deal. I got it now.' A moment of her flying, a moment of rain, a moment of surprise... "Yes!" Tucking the Quaffle in safely in the crook of her arm, Renée leaned forward and shot off through parted sheets of rain, starting to feel the sun on her scalp, the few exposed places on her skin, brighteneing the wide smile spread on her face. She had the Quaffle, she had the Quaffle. 'I have the Quaffle. I have the Quaffle.' The Febre, a four year old model made for speed, dexterity, and longevity had grown increasingly attuned to her subtle commands on the broom. Her body pointing straight, Renée could feel the presence of an Aladren chaser, and shifted her hips left, breaking into a sudden dive, spying a nearby Crotalus chaser.

She wanted badly to continue Charlie's race toward the goals. The Aladren Chasers were a challenge, not their minuscule keeper. But that would be the sort of recklessness that wasn't at all useful, so instead Renée used the first chance she got to pass, the distance not so far but with room for interception. Within the dive she drew back her arm, tucked Quaffle rolling in a balanced descent down the length of it to land cradled in the palm of her hand. She drew her arm back, her hips shifting to the right, and threw. Red leather sped toward a Crotalus Chaser while red clothing flesh arched over it, Renée doing her best to get in the way of any following Aladrens, figuring she would be able to block at least one. 'Perfect.'

She felt re-energized, she felt good. A few strands (she'd yet to manage being able to keep them all tucked in) whipped around her face, teasing the edges of her vision, and she reveled in the wind she and the other players caused. A whirlwind of competition, winnings and losses. Teamwork and success, and frustration. It was easier, more exciting, to deal with all that here, in the air, where it didn't really matter, but it was all that mattered, the only thing that mattered because the important, annoying, hard, frustrating, terrifying, brutal, horrible, real things were stuck at the bottom. Waiting for her, but for now unable to reach. 'Marissa... don't catch the snitch. Not yet.' The game needed to go on. Forever and ever and ever.

0 Renée Errant {Chaser} Okay, can we safely assume it's ours now? 0 Renée Errant {Chaser} 0 5

Paul Bennett, Beater

October 01, 2011 4:24 PM

...Maybe? by Paul Bennett, Beater

He should, Paul felt sure, have been panicking. He was playing Quidditch for the second time with a mass audience, and he was doing it in the final, against a team full of Careys, one of whom was a very big Beater. Sane people didn’t do things with people who were genetically inclined toward liking excessive violence when the activity they were engaging in was inherently violent and the member of the violent group was in the most violent position. Yes, he had a bat to protect ~~himself~~ the members of his team with, but as he looked at Edmond Carey, who was smiling at Marissa in what Paul imagined was a very threatening way, it felt like a rotten stick that would break if he touched his broom with it.

Despite all this, though, he wasn’t panicking. He felt a little sick, and definitely felt that feeling Eliza had described where it was like something very heavy was trying to force its way up his throat and it was made of pure dread, like he knew things could fall apart at any given moment, but he wasn’t actually panicking. It was in hand. He was moving along, even smiling and nodding at people. It was as though he had gone crazy.

He decided not to mention it to anyone. There were likely worse kinds of crazy to be, and it was being useful so far. Maybe it would even get him through the whole game, and then he could go back to being his usual sane, self-preserving self without a moment’s reluctance. Next year, he would have the same problem, since they were the team without an alternate this year and he thought some of the others on the team might hurt him if he tried to quit, but that was next year.

The whistle blew, and they were up in the air. He took a few deep breaths as he started to fly, moving his shoulders a little, trying to loosen them up. To his surprise, it actually worked a little. Paul had never been the most outdoorsy type, but it was a beautiful day, the kind that even his older sister wouldn’t have minded coming out on if the bugs were repelled, and there was something about that and, as little as he liked to admit it, the competition that started to make him feel better almost at once.

He doubted it was doing much good for the Chasers, though; they were too focused on their little back and forth to notice much besides what was happening with the Quaffle. Paul found another reason, besides getting to have one of the bats in his current position, to be glad he was not one of them. All the going back and forth would drive him crazy, and plus, there was something personal about it when a Keeper saved. Bludgers were active enough that their going a little off-course could be written off, but the Quaffle wasn’t. That was just a matter of being better than the Keeper.

Or lucky. Paul was willing to admit that luck was a factor in this sometimes. But mainly it was about being better than the other guy.

Right now, it didn’t look very much like anyone was going to get to risk feeling inadequate after a confrontation with a Keeper, but the Aladrens were giving it their all. He swung at a Bludger to keep it from breaking his nose and sent it toward one of the Aladren Chasers, hoping to slow them a little and give his team a better chance.

0 Paul Bennett, Beater ...Maybe? 201 Paul Bennett, Beater 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

October 01, 2011 9:11 PM

No. by Arthur Carey, Chaser

For a moment, things went the way Arthur wanted them to, and Daniel completed the pass he had begun. Then Miss Abbott swept in and stole the Quaffle, and they were right back to the place where they had started.

This time, Arthur was irritated enough by not being in the right place at the right time that it blocked out his awareness of everything else, just for a moment. A moment too long. He did come back to full awareness of what was going on around him in time to hear a Bludger coming from somewhere, but it was too late to dodge it completely. He pulled his arm in instinctively and pulled away, catching it on his left shoulder instead of having his arm broken.

The arm would have been worse. Dimly, he was aware of that. If he had broken the arm, he would have…perhaps not step out to be fixed, to have it fixed, but it would have hurt worse than this, would have slowed him down more than this. He might have lost all use of the arm instead of just some. Probably would have. But this still hurt, enough that he found himself blinking hard and biting his bottom lip until he worried about it, too, and, after a moment, that he began to feel more than a little sick. I am not going to vomit in front of the entire school, he told himself firmly. I am not. There are standards to be maintained….

There was something odd about that thought. He couldn’t quite place it, but he was sure there was something strange about it.

The broom had sort of kept going forward without him doing more than holding on, and he found himself being blocked by Miss Errant, who’d just completed a pass. Something about that made him think again, and with a grimace of irritation, he went around her, looking for where the Quaffle had landed and willing the arm to hurt less. He had hurt worse by the end last year, and if nothing else, though he didn’t think it was that bad yet, he could get in the way of people who were threatening Daniel and Russell’s attempts to keep the Quaffle. He just had to stop thinking about it hurting and focus on something else until the game was over, then he could have it cared for.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser No. 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Charlie, Chaser, Captain

October 02, 2011 7:01 AM

Guess again. by Charlie, Chaser, Captain

Making a successful pass without interception had never felt so sweet. They did this thing all the time during practises, and usually with greater frequency in game, too, but for some reason the Quaffle had been extra difficult to retain in one team’s possession today. So when Renée caught her pass, Charlie felt a thrill of victory almost as great as if they’d actually scored a goal. Of course, she reminded herself, they hadn’t accomplished that yet, but with the Quaffle still in Crotalus possession, and making its way rapidly towards the Aladren-kept goals, that reality could be about to change.

Regaining her focus, Charlie stayed with one eye on Renée as she continued on her own path, trying to stay more or less free of Aladren Chasers, and put herself in an optimum position to receive a return pass when her teammate felt it appropriate. She didn’t have to wait long; Charlotte saw Renée shift her weight, and so the captain took a good look round for potential interceptors, and, seeing no Aladrens in a threatening position, prepared herself to receive the pass. It was a simple over-arm, which Charlie caught without trouble. She tucked the ball in towards her, and maintained her course to the goals.

Theoretically, anything they tried on this Keeper would work, because everything would be new to her. Unless, of course, she was some Keeper prodigy who’d been moulded since she could sit straight on a broom, and that just didn’t seem likely, even on a team full of Careys. This teeny girl still wouldn’t have faced the Crotalus Chasers and, despite current evidence to the contrary, they were a damned good Chasing team. Charlie felt as though that point needed to be proved. So she flew straight and true towards the middle goalpost, and then began veering a little towards the left. She could possibly feint towards one and throw at the other, and score a goal that way. To err on the side of caution, however, Charlie feinted towards the left hoop, and then passed the ball in the opposite direction entirely, to the Crotalus Chaser she’d been watching out of the corner of her eye.

Just in case it would serve to further confuse the first year Keeper, Charlie kept on course towards the left hoop even after she’d released the Quaffle. It had served to confuse Nic, so it wasn’t impractical to assume it would work again.

0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain Guess again. 0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain 0 5

Renée Errant {Chaser}

October 02, 2011 7:28 AM

I'm guessing success! by Renée Errant {Chaser}

She managed to block Arthur Carey but he was already swerving around her and at a better angle to go after Charlie quicker. Renée, feeling a slight dizziness, went into an all-encompassing circle around the mass of gathered players following the Quaffle and Charlie, instead of a sharper turn. Blinking rapidly, clearing the slightly spotted vision, she leaned forward again and dove once more into the fray, going wide, getting clear enough for Charlie to pass to, but they were nearing the goals and she could just tell Captain Charlie was going to score. It was the last game, the last championship game, the last championship game Charlie would ever play, and Renée wanted to see Charlie score as well. ‘Go! Go! Go! Dispara!’ She flanked Charlie, rising with her in the air as they leveled with the goal hoops and Aladen’s Keeper. She felt swept up by Charlie’s power, Charlie’s silent and easily communicated insistence that she, Sam, and Renée show Aladren, and those distance spots in the faraway stands why they were the best team in the school. The most effective chasing team offered in the school.

She was a few feet away when Charlie threw to the left goal hoop... except it was nothing but an excellent feint and the Quaffle was heading toward Renée, red leather slapping with familiar greeting against her palms. She didn’t think. The energy, the vibrancy flushed her skin, urging her to continue on. Without hesitation, with power and accuracy she trained for, Renée palmed the Quaffle in her left hand, gripping her Febre with nothing but her thighs and threw hard and fast toward the right goal hoop, a grin of preemptive success brightening up her features. But the success was in the electricity humming through the air, static from a sunny storm. She felt the rain again, but it didn’t mean her mind was sad, her mind was steeped in concrete. It meant she felt fresh, she felt alive, she felt free, as that Quaffle was, speeding and spinning toward the right goal hoop.

It was in these moments, during games, when all that adrenaline coursing through her ceased for a millisecond, just enough for her to realize and assess just how much exertion she was performing, how tired she really was. A strained muscle, heart beating too fast, occasionally a bludger injury that was about to knock her out... nothing, not today. Not right now. Thin sheets of sweat, curls gone wild into her eyes and out again, hands gripping hard on the sleek wood, her thighs feeling a little less than comfortable but an adjustment and they were right back to good. Renée hovered in the air, arm following through with her throw. ‘For Crotalus. For Charlie’s last game. For...’ She grinned. ‘For me, obviously.’ In her excitement she rocked backwards a little too hard and she leaned forward again, a light giggle escaping her, steadying herself on her broom. She had to get ready for the next play. She knew that. Whether or not it was a save or a miss, she was supposed to help set it up for the next attempt of a shoot, a score. She stayed still, in place, hovering in the air, bobbing as the currents rocked her back and forth. Her eyes trained on the Quaffle, waiting for the glorified score.

0 Renée Errant {Chaser} I'm guessing success! 0 Renée Errant {Chaser} 0 5

<color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color>

October 02, 2011 11:08 AM

….Pineapple! by <color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color>

Back and forth, back and forth, the Quaffle simply refused to commit to either direction, instead going a few lengths towards the opposite goals, then a few lengths back to her goals with out ever making it all the way. Aladren had been able to get one goal in, earlier in the game, but it seemed that the bulk of the game had been a stalemate where nether team could hold on to the Quaffle long enough to score again.

Cringing as a bludger slammed into Arthur, Kitty saw that it looked like the stalemate had finally come to an end. Please be okay... Kitty thought, still more focused on Arthur than on the red chasers headed her direction. She’d never been hit by a bludger herself, but knew that the balls could do a lot of damage. It didn’t matter as much to her when it was the other team being hit, but when it was one of her own...she didn’t like it! What if he was really hurt? The Carey’s weren’t the friendliest sort, but Kitty enjoyed talking to them and would hate to see any of them get really hurt.

The boy in blue robes didn’t go flying off his broom towards the hard ground. Kitty figured that was probably a great sign that he wasn’t truly injured and forced herself to get her head back in the game. It was just so different! Practices were intense, but somehow they didn’t come close to this. Even her first game didn’t have this level of intensity. The only shot taken at her goals then had been by a girl who hadn’t even aimed. Kitty was quite sure that this shot would be nothing at all like that. Another problem was that she knew her team after so many practices, knew how they moved and how they would score. But Crotalus was not Aladren, and their movements and actions were not the same. She felt like she’d never tried to block a shot before in her life as the red robed chasers made their run.

Then, suddenly it wasn’t so different after all. Kitty had been lingering between the center and left goals watching as the red robe with the Quaffle headed straight for her. Left, center, left, center... Kitty thought as she watched. Then, in a move she’d seen a million times before in practices the red ball instead of going towards one of the goals shot over to a chaser on the other side, even though both chasers continued forward in an attempt to confuse her. After all, passing the Quaffle off when it looked like he was going to take the shot was one of Captain Danial’s favorite moves.

Completely ignoring the the chaser who passed Kitty zoomed as fast as her broom would take her towards the far right as just as the Quaffle left the other red robe’s hands. Knees gripping the broom tightly Kitty reached forward leaning her slight form further to give her extra reach. Almost...almost....GOT IT! She could feel the red leather in her finger tips, but just before she could get a full grip on it, it slid right though her hands...straight thought he hoop. For a second she couldn’t even move as she heard the crowd cheer for the goal being made. She...she MISSED!

Furious at herself for letting the team down, for getting so close only to miss it in the end Kitty dove catching the red ball before it got half way to the ground. Shooting back up to her goals Kitty threw the ball as hard as she could at one of the blue robed chasers, her heart shaped face flaming red with embarrassment of having missed the first real shot ever.

0 <color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color> ….Pineapple! 0 <color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color> 0 5

Coach Pierce

October 03, 2011 11:51 AM

Crotalus scores! 10-10 (nm) by Coach Pierce

0 Coach Pierce Crotalus scores! 10-10 (nm) 0 Coach Pierce 0 5

<font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font>

Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus by <font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font>

<font color=”blue”>Kitty McLevy – Keeper</font>

Lets ROCK! by <font color=”blue”>Kitty McLevy – Keeper</font>

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

I'm more interested in winning by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

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

We'll win because we rock by <font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

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

Don't count your chickens before they hatch. by <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

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

I think the shells are already cracking. by <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Marissa Stephenson,Seeker</font>

Seeking all the usual things. by <font color="red">Marissa Stephenson,Seeker</font>

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

Well, something is cracking by <font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font>

<font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font>

Aladren scores! 10-0 (nm) by <font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font>

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

Let's try this again.... by <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

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

Pocketful of Rain by <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

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

...Would soak through the pocket and make a mess? by <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

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

Sounds about right to me. by <font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

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

That's mine. by <font color="red">Charlie, Chaser, Captain</font>

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

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

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

Thinking about politics by <font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

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

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

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

<i>Mine.</i> by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

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

Now, children, let us settle this calmly. It's mine. by <font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

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

You wish by <font color="red">Charlie, Chaser, Captain</font>

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

Okay, can we safely assume it's ours now? by <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

<font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>

...Maybe? by <font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>

<font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font>

That's a dangerous thing to do by <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font>

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

<i>No.</i> by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Topher Calhoun, Beater</font>

You're...not really one to talk. by <font color="red">Topher Calhoun, Beater</font>

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

Guess again. by <font color="red">Charlie, Chaser, Captain</font>

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

I'm guessing success! by <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

<color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color>

….Pineapple! by <color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color>

<font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font>

Are any of us? by <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font>

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

Crotalus scores! 10-10 (nm) by <font color=silver>Coach Pierce</font>

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

Recentering by <font color=silver>Coach Pierce</font>

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

Restarting the madness. by <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

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

Madness was last year. This is just being high-strung. by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

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

We're just sanity challenged this year, not utterly crazy by <font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>

Good for you. Have a Bludger! by <font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>

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

You can keep it - we'd rather have ten more points. by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

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

I'm not a Seeker, but I'll restart the section of the thread by <font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

<font color="red">Marissa Stephenson,Seeker</font>

You really didn't have to. by <font color="red">Marissa Stephenson,Seeker</font>

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

Not just yet - Did you see that Rachel? by <font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font>

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

My guess is she did. by <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>