Reserving an opinion on Quidditch Pitch

Edmond Carey, Captain

November 26, 2011 7:52 PM

Aladren Quidditch Try-Outs by Edmond Carey, Captain

Well, Edmond thought, looking around at his team from behind a firmly pleasant smile, the empty social expression he had learned as well as any of his sisters had since his third year, here it is, then.

Aloud, he said, “Good afternoon, everyone. I am Edmond Carey, the – Quidditch captain for Aladren.” There. “Which I suppose you’re all here to join. This is my Assistant Captain, Mr. Wilkes.” He pointed out David, not even noticing that he’d used the formal ‘Mr.,’ both in an information situation and to refer to a Muggleborn, though he did notice that Arthur gave him a very brief sharp look for some reason. Arthur was always looking strangely at something, though, so he didn’t consider it very important or think of it for more than a second.

He looked around the rest of the group, basically the team which had won so well for the past few years but for the loss of Daniel and prospect of a new alternate. The twins, as unalike as any two people in Aladren but still capable of lapsing into the incomprehensible private language of very close siblings when they wanted to. Preston, who so wanted to be a good Beater and sometimes seemed a little more enthusiastic about it than Edmond thought was healthy. Kitty McLevy, who often seemed a little more enthusiastic about everything than Edmond thought was really healthy. Russell Layne, quieter than his roommates but as aggressive as anyone else on the Pitch. And now David, who’d tried for Keeper but had never held a position and seemed to have no thoughts on the matter now, and Thaddeus Pierce, the first year – but a Pierce, and worse still, the Coach’s birth brother. He couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of kinship in that, both of them with sisters who were bywords for what would happen to girls who stepped out of their places, though at least he didn’t have Gwenhwyfar here to cause him problems. Merlin, he had no love for politics, but it seemed there was no escaping them.

Still, they'd win. He was sure of that. It was just doing again what they'd been doing, that shouldn't be any great trouble to them. He had confidence in them.

“There’s Arnold, our Seeker, our Chasers Arthur and Russell, our other Beater, Preston, and Miss Kitty, who was our Keeper last year,” he finished the introductions. “All of you, our new player, Mr. Thaddeus Pierce.

“Since Captain Nash has graduated, what we need to work out is our new Keeper and Chaser,” he continued to the group. “We’ll do what we did last year, more or less. David, Kitty, you’ll take turns guarding the goals. The one who isn’t in will join Arthur and Russell as a Chaser and take about five shots at the one who is. That’ll constitute the tryout for that. Preston, get those practice Bludgers we used before, the ones that come back toward you, to warm up. Arnold, Seek things.”

He looked again at Mr. Pierce. “As alternate, you’ll have to know…all of this, really,” he said, gesturing toward the Pitch in general. “Particularly Seeker, since Arnold likes to try to get himself killed, but then Chaser and Keeper after that. You can practice Beater a little, it won’t do any harm, but most of the time will be Seeker, Chaser, and Keeper.” Arnold had never yet been removed from a game, but he had gotten badly enough hurt that he would have had to have been if it had gone any longer than it had before, so Seeker and Chaser would be about equal, with Keeper after that as a precaution. “You can work with Arnold or Preston right now, unless you’d rather try for Keeper or Chaser. We’ll just add another round to that.” Ten shots to a Keeper, five with each of the two formations which didn’t include the Keeper-candidate as a Chaser, and three rounds instead of two. That would take a while, but they had plenty of time.

Once that was settled, he sent the Seeking-Beating group off and told one of the Keepers to go first, feeling odd at the prospect of just sitting around and watching but knowing it was part of the job, and that the job was his now and so he’d just have to make the best of it, he guessed. He couldn’t exactly give it back, the family would throw a fit, and it would be unbearably awkward for the team anyway, having the former captain around while the second choice was actually running things. It just wasn’t something which was likely to work well.

Subthreads:

Chasing a Dream by Kitty McLevy with David Wilkes, Kitty, Russell Layne, Arthur Carey

Securing my spot by Preston Stratford

Reserving an opinion by Thad Pierce with Arnold Carey

0 Edmond Carey, Captain Aladren Quidditch Try-Outs 0 Edmond Carey, Captain 1 5

Kitty McLevy

November 27, 2011 5:31 PM

Chasing a Dream by Kitty McLevy

YES! Classes, magic, wands, and creatures were one thing, but Quidditch, Quidditch was what made Sonora the magnificent vortex of amazingness that it was. Kitty stood on the field that had become her most favorite place in the world, her broom (the one Daniel had given her last term) was held lovingly in her small hands. Not flying over the summer had been heartbreaking and Kitty could barely stand still long enough to listen to her new Captain give them the tryout instructions. All she wanted was to throw herself back into the sky where she belonged.

A tiny giggle escaped the bouncing girl at being referred to as Miss Kitty, but she watched Edmond with bright sky blue eyes filled with respect. She didn’t doubt for a second that Edmond wouldn’t be a wonderful captain. Even though they didn’t have Daniel as captain any more, Kitty knew that Aladren was bound to win again. This time, I’m going to help! Kitty thought happily. She hadn’t managed to save all the attempts last term and this term she hoped to be the one making the throws instead of trying to block them.

Being the Keeper last year was okay, she at least got to play. But Kitty was the sort of person who loved to be in the thick of things, and Chaser was her dream position. Turning large blue eyes on David, Kitty bounced. “Can I try Chaser first? Please, please, please?” Kitty all but begged, hoping he would agree. Even if I’m only Keeper again, at least I’ll still get to play…and I’ll still get to fly Kitty thought. Flying was…it was everything. Nothing in her life could ever compare to the amazing freedom of flying on a broom and Kitty fidgeted as she waited for David’s answer, desperate to fling herself in to the vault of the sky for the first time after what felt like ages.

0 Kitty McLevy Chasing a Dream 0 Kitty McLevy 0 5

Preston Stratford

November 27, 2011 6:13 PM

Securing my spot by Preston Stratford

He was ready, more than ready to get back into the swing of competitive Quidditch at Sonora. The now third-year had more muscular definition thanks to practicing during the summer with his older brother, which incidentally also played Beater. Quidditch was the only thing that brought the two siblings together, other than that, they had nothing in common. Victor was the typical popular jock back at his now former school. He was now attending Wesley University of Magic to major in Business Management. Well, other thing that they would have in common once Preston graduated Sonora. The Aladren was planning to attend the same university but to major in Magical Anthropology. The university was pretty elitist and difficult to get in, that was why Preston wanted to start building his curriculum. Most universities accepted students with a diverse curriculum. Quidditch was part of his scheme to rule over Sonora and have a bright future. Being the second son was difficult. However, he actually had come to like the sport, and even if he didn’t say it loud, he liked spending time with Victor.

Clad in his Quidditch gear, Preston ran all the way towards the Quidditch Pitch. He was smug about his enhanced physical endurance. He had been working out. His need to become a better Quidditch player was obsessive. Preston had a plan and he was going to see it through, no matter what. He was going to show his family that just because he was the second son, he could do better than the heir. Plus, he felt great doing everything for himself. He was sure Victor had been accepted at Wesley because their great-great grandfather Ignatious had made a generous donation. Preston didn’t think the world of him.

The redhead entered the Pitch and walked towards where Edmond was waiting for the rest of the team. It was still strange to refer to Edmond as the Captain, but the redhead was getting used to it. Someday he would be referred as Captain Stratford.

Preston listened to Edmond talk and watched him introduce the new players. The redhead nodded to Thaddeus Pierce and then to his captain. It was beating time. Preston went to look for the practice bludgers and smiled to himself after he let them lose. His hands were securely holding his beater bat. Once he heard the first one come after him, he moved quickly and beated it away. Just in time for the second one to attack the redhead. This second time, his aim was better and the force behind the swing made the bludger go very far away. It was an awesome feeling; Preston Stratford was a better Beater than he had been last year.

0 Preston Stratford Securing my spot 0 Preston Stratford 0 5

Thad Pierce

November 27, 2011 8:50 PM

Reserving an opinion by Thad Pierce

After the first flying lesson of his Sonora career, Thad was both somewhat terrified of the Keeper position and drawn to it as his calling. Both were caused by the madness that had spawned within him when it had looked like Cepheus or Gareth would score on him. They had taken two shots at him before Coach Pierce had grounded him. He had saved both of them. He felt a certainty, almost like what he imagined Aunt Berta must feel, that he would have continued doing so had his sister not intervened. He was nearly as certain he would have killed himself doing it, which meant, in some way, she had quite possibly saved his life by giving him detention and making him practice his hover.

Obviously WAIL was onto something about Quidditch and its effects on the mind, but he felt they were somewhat not giving it the credit and blame it was due by focusing on lesbianism. Clearly, its consequences were much more far-reaching than that and it was not only girls who were vulnerable. The whole sport should be banned entirely for the sanity of the entire magical society.

Unfortunately, he seemed to be in the minority with that opinion, and as long as the sport was played at Sonora, the factors that had made him sign up for the Aladren team in the first place were still valid. He hoped that by being a mere alternate for (at least) a year, he might develop more of a tolerance and gain willpower against the madness that suggested things like jumping off your broom was a good idea.

So despite the part of him that wanted to jump up at Captain Carey's suggestion that he try out for Keeper for real, he just shook his head and said, "Alternate is fine." There was, in truth, something to be said about learning all of the positions. That went far deeper than his relatively recent bout of Quidditch madness. It appealed, instead, to his unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

Perhaps he'd even find a position he was equally good at but which did not pose quite so much danger of self-destruction. It was unlikely, of course, since Keeper was largely regarded as one of the safer positions, but anything was possible.

In the meantime, he'd go with Arnold Carey as the Seeker Reserve, since that was the position Captain Carey suggested he focus on the most. He'd practiced Beating a little with Derry over the past couple of summers already, anyway, so given how low Captain Carey had prioritized Beater, he was probably already good enough there, at least as it compared to his experience at the other positions.

Besides which, it was important to catch up to the Careys as quickly as possible. A Pierce could do anything a Carey could.

"So," Thad began, as they flew away from the main try-out group of Chasers and Keepers, "how does this work? I haven't tried Seeking before. I mean, obviously, you look for the golden snitch and try to catch it, but is there a strategy to it, or is it all trial and error?"

1 Thad Pierce Reserving an opinion 213 Thad Pierce 0 5

David Wilkes

November 27, 2011 11:10 PM

Living in a bad movie. by David Wilkes

As he set foot on the Quidditch Pitch, there were two main thoughts on David’s mind: that he was an idiot to have put on decent shoes as though this were some kind of business thing, and that someone, surely, was going to jump out and yell “Gotcha!” the moment any reference to him actually being Assistant Captain was made. He just didn’t see how it could happen any other way – that this could be anything other than a joke.

Somehow, the way Edmond referred to him as “Mr. Wilkes” only increased that impression – the idea that this was all a joke. It was like something out of a bad mobster flick, or an equally bad Wall Street flick, or a Washington one. Here he was, Mr. Smith gone to Washington, the naïve everyman elevated because they thought he’d be a placeholder or, better yet, malleable, none of them knowing he was the guy who was going to stumble on to and do something about the secret of the dark corruption at the very heart of the Aladren Quidditch team because of the evil plans being run by the Carey Boys. That sounded like a good name for ‘em, at least by the standards of the average cop show. He wasn’t sure he was up to the twenty-four hour filibuster, though. Sounded difficult. Plus, he somehow didn’t see that working in real life very often, even for the Mr. Smiths of the world.

But yet…”Mr. Wilkes” aside, the thing went on, and no one jumped out and yelled “Gotcha.” There was no laughing admission that the whole thing had been someone’s idea of a joke and of course he could go back to the bench while Edmond pinned the badge on the real Assistant Captain. Instead…well, he was trying out for a position, not least because he was probably the only Assistant Captain in the history of ever to come straight from the bench to walking the path of daggers, but there was no suggestion that he should hand over the badge and get back in his place. Everything was going on as though this was just how it was.

He half-smiled, not sure if he should be amused or a little scared, as Kitty began to beg to get to be Chaser first. Since he’d infinitely rather be Keeper than Chaser, David knew she was overdoing it a little, but he guessed she didn’t. “Sure,” he said, as though he were a gracious monarch – well, good chancellor, he guessed; Big Ed was the monarch around here – granting her a favor rather than having things work out the way he’d actually wanted them to. He noticed the new guy heading for Arnold. “Er – do you just want to be Chaser, or are you wanting to get that over with so you can get back to being Keeper?” If he and Kitty could work this out between themselves, then he guessed that would work just as well as finishing the try-out.

16 David Wilkes Living in a bad movie. 169 David Wilkes 0 5

Arnold Carey

November 28, 2011 8:00 PM

As long as you don't finally decide to want my spot by Arnold Carey

Arnold was in a good mood as he less than half paid attention to Edmond’s introductory speech, spending most of his time looking around at the other players and their brooms and his broom, wondering how things were going to be in the rest of the team this year. He knew his part by now, but to listen to Arthur mutter, losing one of their Chasers was something that might throw off the balance of the rest of the team, since they’d have to adjust to a new person and what that person did and so forth.

Arnold had pointed out, very sensibly he thought, that Captain Daniel had needed to adjust to two new Chasers in their first year and that had been a very successful year, but Arthur, after pausing, had then pointed out that it had also been a very violent year. Arnold had countered that the violence could be attributed to all the crazy Beaters that year, but hadn’t been able to come up with another argument when Arthur had pointed out how ridiculous the number of turnovers had been in that Championship game. That had, with the Beaters doing everything in their power to put too many people on the ground for much passing to occur, been the Chasers through and through, he guessed, though he still didn’t see that it had been a bad thing. Aladren’s had won in the end, so maybe the change-up had been for the best anyway.

He only noticed the speech again when it began to involve him – more specifically, the prospect of him working with someone else. As Edmond spoke with the new guy, who he was pretty sure was a cousin of Derry’s based on what bits and pieces he’d picked up of the dull lectures Grandfather, Grandmother, and Arthur had all given on the subject of what important people were starting school with Terry, Arnold found himself tilting his head as he regarded the new idea.

When it became apparent that the new guy – was this the same Pierce Terry had mentioned getting in trouble during flying lessons? Arthur had nearly choked on his tea, muttering something about how he’d only thought about it before – was going to work with him, though, Arnold shrugged. New Pierce might be crazy, but he was Aladren’s Seeker. He hadn’t really thought of him as such, but David had really been his alternate as much as everyone else’s for the past two years, and David had never threatened his position. It was just that this one was a first year, like he’d been when he started his winning streak, and maybe that he was a Pierce that had made him think of it at all.

“Mostly trial and error,” he said when Thaddeus, as he’d decided he must be, asked about how Seeking worked. “You try to go over, you know, as much of the Pitch as you can as fast as you can while you’re still paying attention to everything. Lots of times, the other Seeker will try to stick to you. I yell at them a lot.” He grinned. “They can’t pay attention to the Snitch if all they can think about is how much they want to beat me up,” he explained. “I thought the Pecari Seeker was going to try to kill me last year. You can’t take it all that personally, you know?” He’d never lost, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t take it that personally. He already genuinely admired his opponents, usually. “At least, if you want to win. She was yelling at me, too, but I didn’t care. Oh, and you’ve got to pay attention, learn to tell shiny stuff in the crowd from the real thing, and – “ his tone shifted slightly, someone clearly imitating a lecture he’d heard many times – “listen for the Bludgers.”

He shrugged off the iron menaces. “It’s not that bad, getting hit – I do a lot. I got knocked out right after I caught the Snitch one time, it was in a Final. But Mother and Arthur always talk about arthritis and brain damage. Mother’s not here, so even I won’t have to listen to her until this winter, but Arthur is, and it’s even more boring when he tells it.”

0 Arnold Carey As long as you don't finally decide to want my spot 181 Arnold Carey 0 5

Kitty

November 30, 2011 12:20 AM

Let’s see if it has a happy ending by Kitty

Large crystal blue eyes widened even further, if that was humanly possible. “Really??” Kitty whispered in stunned joy. From the tone of her voice one might assume that David had offered her the crown jewels, not a specific position on a team. In an instant Kitty went from standing still to hugging David. “Yes! YESYESYES! Please? Yes I want to be chaser! Thank you, thank you, thankyou!” The tiny girl babbled, elation overflowing the words.

Chaser! It was the position she’d wanted from the start, from the moment she lay in the commons room and read her first book on Quidditch. It wasn’t the glory position of Seeker, who’s only goal was to find the Snitch. While many people wanted that shining moment, Kitty didn’t. No, she wanted the whole game, not a single moment of it. She wanted to score the points, and she wanted to make brilliant plays with her team. Really, Kitty just wanted to be a part of the action. To always be moving and to fly fast as the wind to defeat the other teams Chasers, Keeper, and Beaters. Kitty wanted to be part of the action. Not floating over head watching, and waiting for that one winning or losing moment.

Well, the same could be said for Keeper, the position permitted her to at least be part of the game but had been stifling in its lack of action. Too much of the games had been spent just waiting Waiting for the other team to make it all the way to her side. And with some teams, like Teppenpaw, that only happened once, and the shot had been so pitiful that she could have been asleep and it wouldn’t have made it through the hoop. Beater was a position that Kitty found fascinating, but trying it out during practice showed the tiny girl that she just didn’t have the proper upper body strength to be a good beater.

As quick as the hug began Kitty released David and snatched up her broom in one hand and the Quaffle in the other. Instantly the tiny girl was mounted and hovering just long enough to call with a brilliant laugh “Come on!” She practically vibrated with excitement, before shooting up into the sky unable to wait any longer.

0 Kitty Let’s see if it has a happy ending 0 Kitty 0 5

David Wilkes

December 01, 2011 2:34 PM

Where neither of us gets pulverized. by David Wilkes

First, David wasn’t sure what Kitty was saying “really” to unless it was just the prospect of getting a position – well, figuring out which position she was going to get, as the case seemed to be – without the stress of the try-out process. Then he promptly forgot that concern, as he had bigger things to worry about, like her getting all…grabby. He didn’t know what he had done, exactly, but he was pretty sure it had not been a hugging-in-front-of-all-the-guys-level offense.

In the midst of the praises of his magnanimity, he put together that she wanted to play Chaser, not Keeper. She wanted to play Chaser and not Keeper really, really bad. David considered that a sure-fire sign of a death wish, even more than just being out here on the Aladren team was, but to each his own. Or her own. He wasn’t too bothered by it, anyway, it meant he didn’t have to play the game’s second-most suicidal position.

“Great,” he started to say, meaning to follow that up with a comment about how now they could tell Edmond, the captain of the team, the guy whose word was therefore necessary for anything to go forward on the team, about their little arrangement, but before he could get that far, she was off into the air. David looked up after her for a moment, and then he just shook his head. Somebody needed to start spiking that girl’s cornflakes with calming draughts except on game week or something. “Guess you guys heard the lady,” he remarked to the remaining Chasers, then flew off toward the goals. They could deal with the technicalities later; right now, he just had to worry about not dying or utterly embarrassing himself in the face of the collective might of the now near-infamously persistent Aladren Chasers. Losing Daniel might put them off their stride for a minute or two, but he reckoned they’d be back in killing shape soon enough, and today he was basically here to get them that way.

After all, he might not really be something to write to the NQL about, but he wasn't Nic Sawyer, either. He and Kitty had done equally well last year. That should mean, barring the Quidditch equivalent of those crazy sport camps seen in the Muggle world, he would be able to block some of the shots.

He started out near the center, then went to the left hoop, then changed his mind again and headed for the right, then ended up back in center, then finally just resigned himself to moving back and forth, the flying equivalent of pacing the floor, both so he’d be more comfortable on the broom and in the hopes he’d be in just the right place at the right time, or maybe even make the Chasers bet on the wrong strategy because they wouldn’t know where he was going to be when they got there.

16 David Wilkes Where neither of us gets pulverized. 169 David Wilkes 0 5

Russell Layne

December 01, 2011 3:44 PM

I'd rather not, either. by Russell Layne

Standing quietly by, his broom in his hand, Russell was smiling faintly as he waited with the rest for practice to start. He was glad to see Quidditch starting up again, the regular, predictable routine of the practices and the games and all that. After two full years, he still didn’t know why he liked Quidditch, even when he wasn’t in the madness of the games and in fact more than when he was in the madness of the games, but he liked it just the same. It was one of the things, in fact, that he liked best at Sonora.

Of course, it was going to change this year, at least a little. No more Captain Nash; now it was Captain Carey. Russell had said nothing to anyone about it, but he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. He had no personal problem with Edmond, nor with the twins, he liked them all well enough as individuals, but as a unit…there was something about that, he didn’t know. He just wasn’t sure what to think about it.

It didn’t seem like it was going to affect him very much right now, though, whatever it was, though, because he was reinstated as a Chaser. The new first year only wanted to be an alternate, so it was just between Kitty and David who’d be Chaser and who’d be Keeper, and they seemed to be having an easy enough time sorting that out without any help from him. He laughed, too, at Kitty’s enthusiasm and shrugged to Arthur.

“Guess we did,” he said. “She’s going to be something to work with, isn’t she?” He thought games might actually manage to get crazier, at least some. He wasn’t sure what he thought of that, either, but oh, well. It would play out how it would play out.

16 Russell Layne I'd rather not, either. 183 Russell Layne 0 5

Arthur Carey

December 03, 2011 2:13 AM

Someone probably will be, eventually, though by Arthur Carey

If he were really a Virginia Carey, Arthur thought as he looked around at his team and stopped on his captain, or maybe even South Carolina, this would really be a lot like the family.

Technically, he supposed, there were still five branches of his family, but North Carolina and Georgia were so meshed up now that there might as well have only been four, which corresponded neatly to the four Quidditch teams. Each was answerable to something higher – Thomas, Coach Pierce – but had its own leader, who had his or her own heir waiting in the wings, slowly learning to be the leader before the old one was, one way or another, removed. They all watched each other, trying to figure out what the others’ strategies were and how best to counter them, and they competed viciously to be the one which was publicly acknowledged as ‘best,’ all while the younger generations – here, the alternates – lurked even behind the heirs and acknowledged players, sorting themselves out while everyone tried to figure out which of them would eventually be somebodies and which would stay on the bench forever, or just leave the team altogether. And then, in time, one way or another that would work out, and things would take on all sorts of strange new shapes that no one could have foreseen.

Sometimes, strange things could happen. Look at David Wilkes. He was like Edmond’s sister Morgaine, the one who should have been a nobody and yet found himself, abruptly, due to circumstances, in some glorious new condition, which he had not earned but had been shoved into by the plans of others. And if he actually played, the Bludgers would complete the analogy very neatly by filling in for the attempted assassinations.

Of course, the whole thing fell apart when it occurred to him that if the four teams were the family, then Edmond was the next thing to Thomas. Yes, he had the strongest team, the one which had been winning the games for years, where Crotalus was a bit like South Carolina, with its old claim to glory through being Crotalus as they had through having the Anthonies, and by the end of the year they’d know which of Pecari and Teppenpaw corresponded to ambitious Louisiana and which represented the weak, crumbling Georgia-North Carolina hybrid, but Edmond…Edmond was not Thomas.

Which wasn’t to say he wouldn’t do. Great-Great-Grandfather was not Thomas, either, however close he came to being. In any case, he would still be a good Beater, and between them, he and Arnold were going to win the Quidditch cup again, and that would be good for Aladren and Arnold’s chances for captain. Arthur wasn’t sure yet what he was going to do to make sure that Theresa was prefect for Pecari, but he had more time to worry about that.

Not that, without any means he could think of for blackmailing David Wilkes into quitting school, he needed to worry too much about his brother for a while, either. That irritated him. He was revising Arnold's work and pretending to like people so that they could...hold onto something for all of a year, before they were out in the world and at the bottom of the heap again. It was like the coach had no regards for his idea to have most of the important positions at Sonora full of Careys – or like she was actively working to foil it. But he didn’t think that was the case; he was just supposed to be one of the Carey boys, no one very important, certainly no one who’d decide to try to take over the school just to see if he could and use it as practice to try….

…Well, he didn’t know what he wanted to try yet. But something, and school was a good place to practice. Better than home, anyway; people here weren’t too likely to kill him if he made a misstep, where Father seemed to think they might really if he did it at home. Merlin knew it didn't matter much on its own; even if he bothered to take the time to try to make this person or that one turn out Head Boy or Head Girl, well, that wasn't much of a prize. The Heads were, as far as he could see, glorified errand boys for the staff. Their only real power was to take points, he supposed, but the Head Boy was bound to be an Aladren, so if it was, say, Preston, he would gain nothing by taking points from Arthur whatever Arthur did. Though that was a good reason to keep Russell from getting it, even if he had to let Preston have it to do so; Russell was common, he might turn ethical sometime....

Come to that, he'd probably better not let Arnold have it, either. He might do the same thing, or at least feel bad about not doing it. So, him or Preston, for whatever it was worth.

He nodded politely to Thaddeus Pierce when he was introduced, remembering in time to include a small smile. That year seemed interesting; it was another where there were a lot of Aladrens, though mostly girls this time. No one terribly important – a new Bauer girl, another Thornton girl, some other girl with too many surnames who he still hadn't heard anything about. The boys had gotten the surnames again, Pierce and Brockert, this time. He hadn’t yet decided what he thought of them all, though, because Terry going into Pecari had surprised him.

There was a moment of confusion as the Keeper and Chaser thing was settled, but Arthur was largely indifferent to it, and once it was settled, he mounted his broom without further delay. Better to get this over with. "Indeed so," he replied to Russell, then joined in the mimicry of a game.

0 Arthur Carey Someone probably will be, eventually, though 182 Arthur Carey 0 5

Kitty

December 03, 2011 4:29 PM

Of course…someone on the other team! by Kitty

She flew straight up into the endless blue, before spiraling down towards the sea of green that was the pitch. Then up Up UP again before flying straight as fast as she could. She darted to the left, right, up down. STOP. Kitty couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as she turned her broom to see if the boys were following or not. The Quaffle was cradled securely in her left arm as she waited for them to catch up, feeling much better for having worked out a bit of her need for flight. It was like those first few minutes riding a bike after winter has passed and they had been taken out of storage, that rusty feeling of having not ridden in a while that needed to be worked out.

Now Kitty was ready to shine, and show David he’d made the right choice, as well as prove to Edmond that she’d be the best to fill the open chaser position. Replacing Daniel was rather out of the question seems he’d been a seventh year and the captain, but Kitty knew that with practice, and time she would be an amazing chaser. Edmond will never regret it if he chooses me! Kitty silently promised as she watched the other three get closer.

Tryouts were as important this year as they had been last. Just as last year there was one extra person, someone would have to be the alternate. It would be easy for her to assume that it wouldn’t be her just because she played last term, but such thinking would be a mistake. David was a year older than her and while he hadn’t played last term he had practiced with the team, yet she got the position over him. If she didn’t do her very best and prove herself, then the same thing could happen to her. No way! I’m so close to having my dream position there’s no way I’ll lose it now! Bright blue eyes flashed with determination as she watched David get into position.

While it was almost painfully tempting to make a run for the goals now against David and prove her worth as a chaser, Kitty knew that this position wasn’t about who could score the most goals. It was how well one could work as a unit with the other two chasers. Keeping the Quaffle for a long run down the pitch was simply asking for a bludger to the head, so it was necessary to be able to pass, to catch, and most of all to dodge, move, and steal the Quaffle from the other team.

With that thought in mind Kitty passed the Quaffle to the boy who reached her position first and grinned. The pass flew smoothly, showing her prior experience in sports like basketball where passing was a regular thing.

0 Kitty Of course…someone on the other team! 0 Kitty 0 5

Thad Pierce

December 05, 2011 12:17 PM

Not while you're still here anyway by Thad Pierce

Thad nodded as Arnold explained some of the intricacies of Seeking. Most of what he seemed to make sense, at least up until he dismissed getting hit by bludgers at 'not that bad' at which point he put Arnold Carey in a mental room with his Aunt Berta where he kept the people who said things that could be accurate most of the time but who sometimes said something utterly crazy and therefore any statements made by sources in this room should be verified independently.

It would have been one thing if his actions suggested madness - clearly, Thad's own flying lesson experience proved situations could overrun the brains' cautions - but to verbally dismiss the threat of bludgers meant even his brain didn't even register the madness even when he raised the issue of brain damage in the same sentence. Perhaps Arnold had already been adversely affected.

He didn't remember much about his own first broom fall. He'd been only about three years old at the time. He had difficulty distinguishing true memory from the story that got repeated over and over again in the years since. His part in the story had always been marginalized, despite that it had been his life on the line.

Mostly, it was Derry's story, since that was the most impressive incident of accidental magic his cousin - or, in fact, any of their generation - had ever pulled off. Even among their family, it was rare for a five-year-old to have enough magical strength to temporarily transform a large patch of solid earth into a giant mattress competently enough to save the life of another child who was falling from over thirty feet above it, all by himself.

Still, fuzzy memory or not, Thad was still willing to call that incident the single most traumatizing and terrifying few seconds of his life, and he hadn't even been hurt. Arnold claimed to have lost consciousness.

It was, of course, a possibly that the inability to actually remember the fall may possibly be a cause for that, so he asked, "Have you ever been knocked off your broom while you were conscious?" Then a more important question occured to him and he asked, "And how often do players fall, in general?"

1 Thad Pierce Not while you're still here anyway 213 Thad Pierce 0 5

Arnold Carey

December 06, 2011 12:57 AM

That's all right, then by Arnold Carey

Arnold was used to finding himself confronted with questions he didn’t know how to answer, but this one was actually something he felt comfortable speculating about. “Depends on the game, really,” he said. “Edmond’s mother died in my first year, so…er, we were all really glad we were on his side and not any of theirs that year." He glanced back toward the captain. "I mean, we always are, but that year...Half the Pitch ended up in the tent in one game.” That had been before midterm, before Edmond’s adoptive mother had died, but Arnold’s memories of that year had blurred and fuzzed a little. People had attributed the violence of a game to Edmond losing his mother, and in one game, there had been lots of violence.

“I was there,” he added, including the first question as well now. “Even though Edmond was on our side. Derry Pierce knocked me off my broom.” He grimaced. “It was stupid, I was over there – “ he waved vaguely – “and I was like this - “ he held his arm at an angle – “I’d just thought I had the Snitch, but then I didn’t, and I turned the wrong way when I heard the Bludger, and it was like that.” He smacked his own shoulder. “Then I lost my balance and – “ he tipped over sideways, stumbling dramatically. “Except I didn’t hit the ground that time,” he amended, getting up again and brushing his hair and the shoulder of his robes to make sure there wasn’t grass on them. “Coach Pierce catches you if you fall and gets you back your broom, if you can go back, and that was the time I was awake.” He paused, thinking, and added, “well, I think it’s the only time. I think there were two others when I wasn’t, but at least one of those, I just blacked out for a second, just long enough to fall. Then I woke up again.” He made another face. “Two to the arm,” he explained. “One right after the other, and I think the same guy had hit my leg earlier. It hurt like heck.”

At least, that was how he remembered it. He was pretty sure it had happened, anyway, if not exactly in the same time and place in which he remembered it. Games were games; he went out and flew, he annoyed the other Seeker and maybe annoyed some other Chasers if he got bored, he got hit by a few Bludgers, and then he won. There had been that one game where he wasn’t hurt at all, but he was dismissing that as an anomaly, though he did add, “But there was one game where the girl Seeker – all the other teams have girl Seekers – got hurt and I didn’t. I still don’t know how that happened. Luck, I guess.”

He was reminded again of that story and decided he did really need to know. “Is it true you jumped off your broom during flying lessons?” he asked.

0 Arnold Carey That's all right, then 181 Arnold Carey 0 5

Thad Pierce

December 06, 2011 12:25 PM

I'm in no hurry by Thad Pierce

Thad winced a little in sympathy at the news that their captain's mother had passed away only a few years ago. With both of his parents over seventy, their deaths were a more immediate concern than most eleven year olds were aware of. Still, he was hopeful that normal magical longevity and their lack of interest in politics might help them survive well into their hundreds, at least until Derry got disowned and suddenly Father and Thad became the New Hampshire heirs.

As Arnold went on, he felt a little weird as the elder Aladren spoke of Derry in a context that was very adverserial. He wasn't used to thinking of Derry like that, and it seemed to be against everything Thad knew about his cousin that he might actually hurt somebody, beater or not. In his mind, Derry had always been the defensive kind of beater, who protected his teammates more than he went after the other team. If Derry wasn't as friendly on the pitch as he was everywhere else, Thad was even more glad he had opted for the reserve position, at least until he got used to thinking of Derry as a potential threat instead of just a nice naive guy who was stuck on a path that would eventually lose him his inheritance and pass it on to Thad instead.

Or so Aunt Berta insisted, and Thad couldn't dispute her logic.

He wasn't sure if the odd perspective on Derry was better or worse than the one Arnold had on Amelia. His family didn't talk about her much, but when they did, it was generally negative. And she'd given him a detention already (he'd be serving that tonight) and sidestepped a question after dangling the answer in front of him, so his personal opinion of her was not particularly high just now either. Plus there was the unresolved issue of whether or not she held it against him that he had taken her place in the New Hampshire heirarchy. He wasn't remotely comfortable trusting his life to her hands.

All in all, Arnold's report did not fill him with great confidence or inclination to get out on the field any time soon. Bludgers hurt, people fell, and the school's beaters were good enough to hit people in the spot more than once a game. The bench was looking better and better.

Then Arnold asked a question back, and Thad felt his face heat up. His skin was light enough that the change was chromatically obvious. The embarassment was deep enough that the red flush extended from the tips of his ears to the collar of his robes. He bit his lip, looked away, and shuffled his feet. He didn't even have to open his mouth to confirm he was guilty as charged. His body language shouted it loudly enough for him.

In a low mumble, he answered anyway, albeit quiet and run-together enough to make it hard to understand. "I-got-carried-away-in-the-moment-and-I-didn't-want-him-to-make-the-goal."

Then he took a deep breath and asked a question (still to the ground near his toes rather than looking up to meet Arnold's eyes) that he hoped would change the subject entirely, "So how do we practice seeking?"

1 Thad Pierce I'm in no hurry 213 Thad Pierce 0 5