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

December 16, 2011 12:16 PM
For the past three years, the Quidditch final had gone the same way. The same two teams, the same winner. It was almost getting boring. This year, Amelia was going to mix things up by putting the two against each other right off the bat. It would be an exciting start to the season, and the second game would give Teppenpaw and Pecari a chance to face each other for the first time in four years. Less than half of the current players had been around for that.

Today, though, was for the rematch between two teams who had met each other in the finals for three years running. Though it was only the first game of the season, in some ways, that made it even more critical than the finals had been. Before, winning had given the victorious team the Championship. The loser, though, had at least made it to the Finals and therefore took second place overall. Today, the loser would be tied for last place in the school, a position she was sure neither Aladren nor Crotalus had any desire to find themselves in.

The day was bright and sunny. Too sunny, in truth. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, the late autumn air was clear, and looking toward the East could blind a person this morning. Fortunately, the pitch was arranged on a North-South axis, so neither team had a severe scoring disadvantage.

With only a week until Thanksgiving, the mid-November temperature was cool compared to preceeding weeks, but it was still in the high fifties and not yet truly freezing. Still, Amelia had opted to wear one of her heavier robes and added a fashionable purple scarf for a little extra warmth around her neck.

"Welcome to the first Quidditch game of this year's season," she greeted the teams and the audience, her voice augmented by the use of a sonorus charm. She had waited unti the captains - both new to their positions - finished their pre-game speecheds, and now she called them over to her. "Representing Aladren this year is Edmond Carey. Newly leading Crotalus, we have Marissa Stephenson. Captains, please shake hands."

Once they did so, they were free to return to their teams. Amelia released the snitch, and the two bludgers, and picked up the Quaffle. Moving the point midway between the two teams, she held the red ball in one hand and her whistle in the other. Her broom waited beside her, ready for her to call it to her hand and follow the players into the air.

First though, "The game goes until a seeker catches the snitch. A goal is worth ten points, catching the snitch is worth a hundred and fifty. Keep the game clean, folks, and let's get started at my whistle. One. Two. Tweet." She tossed the Quaffle high into the air and the sharp whistle-blow split the air.

The game was on.


OOC:
Usual site rules apply. Longer, more detailed posts earn your team more points. First time players, welcome, and please read the post on the OOC board for more Quidditch specific rules. Have fun!
Subthreads:
1 <font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font> Game One: Aladren vs Crotalus 20 <font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font> 1 5


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

December 16, 2011 4:54 PM
Whomever won this game, was ensured the championship. Renée stood with her Febre broom in hand, a little quieter than usual, off to the side of her team, waiting for Marissa to speak, tell them something. For once, no thoughts were tumbling over and over in her head. Her mind was as clear and empty as the bright sky above them. Her first few days back at Sonora, she’d had her first ever headache; why hadn’t Sophia sent her a letter at all during the summer, why was David not sleeping at home anymore, why was Marianna’s lip always smeared, her lipstick brighter, heavier, slipping off her mouth, why was Gabriel always unhappy when he was once again forgiven by the woman of his dreams, and why were her abuelos so silent after once again Renée had defied them? Instead of attempting to answer, she had fallen silent too. The days passed slowly; classes, then Quidditch. Her torrents of black curls that had grown over the summer felt heavier than usual on her head, the heat pressing down hard on them. She wasn’t going to complain. She reveled in every sensation that the pitch had to offer her today. This might be her last game of the season.

She didn’t realize Coach Pierce had been talking until the sound suddenly stopped. Renée went through the motions of propping up her Febre, swinging one leg over, adjusting herself in her seat, bending her legs, feet planted firmly in the ground, and then - freedom! - she kicked off. She rose steadily through the air, earth disappearing, melding into the warmth of the hot day, the purity of the expanding blue sky. There was no end to it. More talking, this time Renée willed herself to pay attention. TWEET. The Quaffle was thrown, and suddenly Renée’s clear mind was filled with visions of red orbs. ‘Mine.’ She flattened on her broom and sped forward, her left arm extending a little bit, catching the Quaffle in the crook of her arm without pause, continuing on in her path toward Aladren goals, hugging the leather ball to her side, pressed against her rib cage.

She had been working in practice with Sam and Linus on making quicker passes. In the last years her strategy had been to confuse the opposing Chasers by doing awesome tricky passes, but she’d outgrown using those all the time. She kept them stored in her waiting muscles, her eager instincts, for a special and much needed occasion. The winning strategy was just to play quick games of Keep-Away with the ball. Grab, pass, catch, pass, pass, pass. She waited only a few seconds before her dark eyes settled on her fellow Crotalus chaser. They’d went from two girls and one boy, to one girl and two boys. It hadn’t been any more alienating than before, though, for her since she’d never enjoyed any special sense of camaraderie with her teammates anyway. Their fault, not hers. If only they were all soaring winged birds catching the Quaffle and tossing it back with their talons. Not people. She couldn’t understand people, she could barely get a grasp on her own family though she loved them. She gravitated toward those whose minds lived outside of their bodies, though hers for the moment was trapped inside. She could understand animals better. She could understand what they wanted out of life. She wanted the same things too.

Sam, or Linus. Sam, or Linus. It had been helping her play better with them by seeing them not as they truly were. Sam was a dog, a Labrador. Combed brown fur, very clean with shadows of dirt on his paws, balanced as gracefully as he could manage on the broom. Linus was a penguin, a little ball of wobbliness flattened on the broom as if he was sliding down hills of ice. Her mouth quirked in a smile, sweat slipping down the sides of her face, cooled only a little by her flight, the entirety of the two teams creating a force of wind both hot and cold. Less than a minute in possession of the Quaffle, Renée swerved to avoid an Aladren Chaser and raised her arm in the same second, pulling back and then her arm shot out, clenched fingers releasing, the Quaffle flying with barely an arch in its direct throw toward one of the other Crotalus chasers. The summer had been partially spent discovering archery; her muscles tightening with the strain of pulling the string of the bow back, releasing once she’d gotten her weapon steady, the arrow shooting out with a straight aim, an audible twat once it struck and sank into its target.

She steadied on her broom and kept flying, nearing the midpoint line of the pitch, squinting through the sun, to see where her Quaffle - she meant the Quaffle - had gotten to. Her vision of a red orb was steadily filling with more images; Marissa catching the snitch, its silver wings beating hopelessly against her enclosed fist, the new beaters Topher and Gareth hitting bludgers that struck the beating hearts of certain individual Aladrens, and a vision of Nic needlessly guarding the Crotalus goals because his chasers were successfully keeping the Quaffle on Aladren’s side of the pitch. For once she took the time to, in her own private way, wish the rest of the team well. There may not be much camaraderie, but they did share something in common with one another. They shared the team. Through the heated rays of the sun, Renée caught sight of where the Quaffle was and bent forward on her broom, flying faster, following its lead, visions dissolving until she only saw the red orb once more.
0 <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font> Quaffle, Snitch, and Game for Crotalus 0 <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font> 0 5


<font color="blue"> Kitty McLevy - Chaser</font>

December 16, 2011 6:40 PM
Anyone looking at the tiny girl bundled up in her bright blue Aladren robes, a bit bulky due to the sweater she’d put underneath, skipping down the hall ways might have smiled and thought the girl was off to watch a beloved brother play the fine sport of Quidditch. Every third or fourth step was accompanied by a small gleeful sort of sound that caused those who passed to give her odd looks. Finally! Finally she would get to truly play the game that had captured her heart and soul. Today was vital more so than her first year and protecting the goals from both Pecari in their first game and finally against Crotalus in the finals. No, this game was different, it was the defining game of the season and it would determine who got to play again. And Kitty desperately wanted to play again, to win again, to remain on the top of the heap with her team as number one.

The two slices of French toast, three strips of bacon, two sausage links, and a large glass of orange juice sat comfortably in her middle. Somehow, this time, unlike her first game she felt wonderful. Each step barely seemed to touch the floor, Kitty was sure that if her joy were any greater gravity would have failed its task completely and she would have flown free without the aid of a broom. The pitch appeared under a sunshine drenched sky, so bright that it almost didn’t feel real and only added to her euphoria. Brilliant blue, the exact shade of her eyes filled the vast expanse of the sky begging her to shake off gravity and dive into it.

No…not yet, not yet! But soon, so soon she would be able to dart into the sky and take the win that was hers (theirs). Aladren would be victorious once more, there wasn’t any doubt to be had on that account. First, the formalities, speeches given but not heard the call of the sky drowned out Edmond’s words no matter how much she tried to focus on them, and hands were shaken before finally TWEET!

Kitty shot up into the sky, almost but not quite able to reach the Quaffle first. Sky eyes narrowed as she dropped back and down. Like her name sake Kitty waited in the crimson shadow of the enemy waiting as patiently as a cat at a mouse hole. Her small lithe form, perhaps better for seeking than anything else but she would force it to bend well to the task of chasing, hid easily in the blind spot of the chaser above her. Wait…just wait, breath and watch…soon, soon….NOW!

The Quaffle had just left the crimson robe’s hand and Kitty leapt, darting out of her hidden place and pounced on the red prey. Reaching out she snatched the red ball out of the sky and tucked it neatly under her arm. For an instant all Kitty could do was revel in the red leather. I caught it! Omygod I caught it! I caught it I cau…oh Shoot! She was brought out of her happy daze by the loud crack of bat on bludger and the sight of the black ball shooting straight at her made the tiny girl squeak in fear before darting away. Before the evil ball could lock on her Kitty tried a tactic she’d been playing with during try outs. Instead of trying to out run the ball she put as many red robes between her and it as she could. Seeing that she’d gotten the thing’s attention off of her Kitty looked around and quickly passed off the Quaffle to the first blue robe she saw.
0 <font color="blue"> Kitty McLevy - Chaser</font> You’ll have to do better than that! 0 <font color="blue"> Kitty McLevy - Chaser</font> 0 5


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

December 16, 2011 6:55 PM
Russell wasn’t as optimistic as he might have been against either of the teams he wasn’t playing, but really, being put up against Crotalus first didn’t bother him. Aladren had played Crotalus when it really counted, in the Final, in both of the years he’d been at the school and on the team, and both times, Aladren had prevailed. Now, with a new captain who wasn’t a Chaser and the old one’s replacement a second year, he was expecting his part of the game to be a lot easier than usual, and Arnold’s not to be any harder, anyway, with one of the Crotalus Beaters a first year. So he was still pretty optimistic.

Optimistic, but still not totally sure about Kitty. She was energetic, and that was great, but he was kind of worried about her going off on her own instead of working as a unit with him and Arthur, the way they had with Daniel, and that might mess things up. Renée Errant was wild like that, and she got the Quaffle plenty, but because she didn’t work with her people, Aladren usually got it back fast. Russell would take someone calm and steady over a crazy one any day.

Still, she’d been practicing with them, and as weird as it was, out here, anyway, he completely trusted Arthur. He never knew quite what to think of him, despite the Chaser thing making him the Carey twin Russell spent more time with, off the Pitch, but on it, their goals and aspirations were identical, and it worked, and that was all that really mattered on game day. That, and the Beaters doing their part, but here, he trusted Preston and Edmond, too. They might not be able to get him and Arthur and Kitty and David out of every tight spot, but he was confident they’d do their best, and that if they didn’t even try, it would probably be because Arnold was also in trouble and Arnold always came first. The new guy, whose name Russell had to consciously remind himself to say in full all the time because it was just awkwardly long, was all well and good, but the Seeker who’d never lost them a match had to take priority over everyone else on the field. Russell got that.

Though, as Edmond and the coach gave their speeches, he did find himself feeling after all that it was a little more urgent than usual that this not be the first match Arnold lost. To go from the unquestioned champions of two seasons running to last place, the first team knocked out of the running, would be…bad. He’d live, there were far worse things which could happen in a day or even a whole year, but it would still be bad.

The whistle blew, and they were all up, and Renée Errant got to it first. Russell followed her, listening for the Bludgers and mostly watching her hands, though trying to remain aware of where the other Crotalus and Aladren Chasers were lurking, too, just to be safe.

He saw that she was about to pass, or he thought she was, and he went for it, speeding up to be in place to intercept – only to discover he’d moved too fast, she’d seen him, and now she was going the other way.

Russell made a face, but rose higher to see what was going on with the ball. He wasn’t Quidditch-crazy yet, which meant he could still think logically, which meant he knew there was probably – almost certainly – plenty of time left in which to get his hands on the Quaffle. If he had lost his chance to contribute to Aladren’s victory over one move immediately after the start of the game, then it was a freak chance in a million and he’d be impressed enough by that to not even mind too much even if he did get crazy by the end of it. Which was a given if this went on more than ten minutes. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know, at this point, what it was this game did to people’s heads; it just seemed like knowledge man wasn’t meant to have.

Oh, Kitty had the ball. He dropped back down to cover her, sure the Crotali weren't going to like having the new Aladren Chaser snatch something out of one of their players' hands, went forward as she went forward even as he came back down, and was in place to complete the pass she started.

He smiled as the Quaffle came into his hands, starting to feel a little more energized after the race away from the Bludger and having the ball in Aladren's possession now two plays in a row. Yeah, the game was definitely not over. Keeping his mind on the goal of Nic Sawyer, he moved on for a while, then made a short pass to another blue robe.
16 <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font> Much, much better. 183 <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color="red">Gareth Whitebriar-Beater </font>

December 16, 2011 7:55 PM
Gareth felt painfully ill. After only three small bites of his oatmeal he realized that eating was out of the question unless he wanted his breakfast to make a pitiful reappearance in the very near future. From them moment he’d seen his name not in the reserve section, but under the actual team, Gareth had felt the nervousness building in his chest. He truly hadn’t expected to be chosen for first string, and had been more than half tempted to speak to the Captain and ask to trade places with Cepheus, but pride kept him silent.

Cepheus, that was another problem Gareth wasn’t sure how to deal with. He’d known how much his roommate wanted a position on the team and how angry the other boy was after he saw Gareth had made it and he hadn’t. It almost felt like he’d stolen the potion from Cepheus, and he’d started avoiding his roommate as much as possible while still sharing the same room. He just didn’t know what to say to make the situation better so he ended up saying nothing at all.

A hard ball of ice had taken the place of his stomach and it was a heavy weight under his ribs. His nerves weren’t helped in the slightest by the thought that they wouldn’t be playing one of the two easier teams, no they’d be facing Aladren right of the bat. Light blue eyes quickly scanned the other team as he took his place among the Crotalus players. Thank Merlin they didn’t put Thad in as keeper Gareth gave a small sigh of relief, after seeing the other first years crazy antics during flying lessons he didn’t want to see what the boy would do in a real game.

It wasn’t just the flying that contributed to Gareth’s nerves, too late to do any good Gareth realized that the sight of the crowd watching their every move made him want to pass out to escape all those watching, judging eyes. Stage fright, how pitiful Gareth sneered at himself. Was it not bad enough that he was afraid of flying? Apparently not, with a shaky breath Gareth mounted and hid his fears behind a mask of Pureblooded indifference.

The ground fell away at a dizzying speed as Gareth kicked off with the rest of the team. Long years of practice kept his eyes level with the playing field and not on the ground fading down. The bludgers, that was all he had to worry about during this game, not the Quaffle, nor the Snitch, or guarding the hoops, just the bludgers. And, apparently the sun. Gareth flinched slightly as he got a face full of the blindingly bright light, ruining his vision for a handful of moments.

Still flying, Gareth blinked the sun spots out of his eyes, and just managed to catch the small blue chaser snatching the Quaffle. One of the black spots in his vision veered erratically towards him and Gareth almost had the deep embarrassment of being knocked off his broom before the game had even really gotten under way. Instinctually he swung the bat hard CRACK the ball flew towards the small blue chaser more out of luck than design, so when it failed to hit her he didn’t feel too put out by it. Not that such an itty bitty target would be easy to hit in any case, good thing she isn’t the seeker Gareth thought as he zipped forward, spying another free bludger. This time he was able to aim and with another powerful swing and CRACK the black ball shot off towards one of the blue garbed players.
0 <font color="red">Gareth Whitebriar-Beater </font> Try this on for size 0 <font color="red">Gareth Whitebriar-Beater </font> 0 5


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

December 17, 2011 8:56 PM
Edmond felt nervous about the game, but that emotion had been sternly pushed down and detached, so it felt as though he were thinking about someone else being anxious instead of being the one who was anxious. It wasn’t as though he thought he had a very good reason to be worried; it was the rest of the team, minus Preston, which didn’t have bats and would be in the way of what those bats hit for the rest of the game. He just had to keep Arnold in the air long enough to catch the Snitch and take down any Crotali who presented themselves in his spare time. There could be an art to Beating at some levels of play, but when they were against Crotalus, it was usually very straightforward, a matter of timing and force.

Though, it shouldn’t have been Crotalus yet, not when they had beaten Crotalus in the Final last year. He had thought they would be up against Teppenpaw again, back on that point of the cycle, but it seemed Coach Pierce had different ideas. He supposed she was tired of having the same thing happen year after year, so he supposed whoever won this game today would face Teppenpaw in the finals, unless something had changed for Pecari.

“Well,” he said to Kitty and the boys once it was clear that he really couldn’t put off saying something much longer, hoping fervently that everything Julia had ever taught him for hiding his slight discomfort with speaking to people was working, “Here we are. Crotalus again.

“Russell, Arthur, Kitty, we’re all familiar with Mr. Bauer and Miss Errant – particularly Miss Errant – but keep an eye on their new Chaser, don’t give them an inch or an opening you can help. You know what to do. Preston and I will have to keep an eye on their new Beater as well, but our old friend Mr. Calhoun is formidable enough that you all need to stay alert.” This with a particularly pointed look for Arnold, who smiled in what he seemed to think was a winning, ‘what, me?’ way. Edmond moved on without further comment. “Arnold, you know your business, just remember that this is Miss Stephenson’s last game if she doesn’t win, so she might be more aggressive than usual. Thaddeus, just be ready.”

He looked around at everyone individually. “If I were a betting man,” he said, “I would wager that we are going to win this game. But I’m not, and the fact that we’ve beaten them before doesn’t necessarily mean we will again. Don’t get overconfident. Just play as cleanly and well as you can and let’s keep that trophy buried under the paperwork in Professor Fawcett’s office. Good luck, everyone.”

He inclined his head and, out of reflex because he was just enough on edge to not notice himself doing that sort of thing, only just caught himself short of bowing over Marissa’s hand when she presented it to him and laughed at her comment. “Certainly,” he said, and then, once they parted, listened politely to Coach Pierce running through the rules, hearing nothing he didn’t expect. Then she blew the whistle, and there was a momentary confusion of blue robes and red robes and broom straws and air, and then the game was on.

He noticed at once that his Chasers were not suffering as badly as he had feared they might from the loss of Daniel, and almost as soon that the new Crotalus Beater wasn’t as bad at what he did as he might have hoped. Indeed, he seemed to have a knack for it, nearly hitting Kitty right away and then trying again as she moved down the Pitch with the Quaffle. Edmond didn’t have to think much, just react, which he did, flying to redirect the Bludger toward one of the Crotalus players with, he imagined, more force than it had first been sent toward an Aladren as he hoped Preston was in control of the other Bludger.

With that thought in mind, he went after the one he’d hit, hoping to make sure it didn't head back toward an Aladren as soon as the result of his first play of the game was made apparent, whether it worked, was dodged, or was deflected by one of the Crotalus Beaters. See-hit-move-hit, that was the pattern; if the game didn’t go on very long, he could keep doing that for some time, though not at full tilt the whole time. The real challenge of this was figuring out how much he could do without exceeding his endurance and being right.

On the way after the Bludger, he looked up to make sure Arnold wasn’t in too much trouble, but he seemed not to be at the moment. Merlin only knew how long that would last, but he’d take advantage of as long as he could get. Things seemed to get nasty very quickly once he found it necessary to get involved with the Seeker game.
0 <font color="blue">Captain Carey, Beater</font> I'm afraid I'd rather he didn't 0 <font color="blue">Captain Carey, Beater</font> 0 5


<font color="blue"> Kitty McLevy - Chaser</font>

December 17, 2011 11:29 PM
After passing off the Quaffle to Russell, Kitty was startled to hear yet another CRACK. Bright blue eyes widened as she saw the dark black ball zooming back towards her and Russell. Before it could reach them Edmond appeared in its path and Kitty couldn’t hold back the grin that blazed across her lips as he effortlessly deflected the murderous ball. For a second she just watched as the black ball shot away with a speed she knew would seriously hurt if it happened to actually hit someone. Kitty was glad that Edmond was on her side so that she didn’t have to worry about him ever targeting her.

Kitty never thought about actually being hit by a bludger before, and she couldn’t help feeling the tingle of excitement at the thought of being a target. It added a higher level of danger to the game that she hadn’t felt when playing Keeper. Yes, Keeper was one of the positions that beaters usually targeted but not a single bludger had come her way last term. Even if one had Kitty was sure that Edmond or Preston would have deflected it long before it reached her. But as a chaser she was far more exposed and judging by the start of the game she was most certainly a target. For other people that might have worried them, but to Kitty it just gave the game a bit more spice.

The sound of bat on bludger had caused Kitty to veer a bit off course but it only took a small shift of her weight to bring her back in line with Russell. She wanted to keep the Quaffle out of Crotalus hands and deeper into Crotalus territory. Every nerve ending was alive, all her senses focused on the red orb that her hands itched to catch again. This was amazing, so much better than she’d imagined it could be and Kitty laughed, the bell like sound was quickly lost in the rushing wind as she flew fast.

A flash of red, and Kitty reached out the hard leather smacked pleasantly into her palms giving them a slight sting. Another smile tugged her lips up as she tucked the ball into her chest and darted further down the pitch. It was tempting to close the distance between her and the goals and make a shot, but the distance was too great for a single run, she would be too exposed. After halving the length Kitty glanced around for another blue robe to pass to. Seeing one the ball flew, her aim slightly off due to the sun glare.
0 <font color="blue"> Kitty McLevy - Chaser</font> Keeping things moving our way 0 <font color="blue"> Kitty McLevy - Chaser</font> 0 5


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

December 18, 2011 4:28 PM
Sam still thought he could feel some of the strains and bruises from the last time they’d played Aladren, but he guessed that was between him and his brain and not much of a matter of concern for the Sonora Quidditch program, so he ignored that and focused on how this year, they were going to be carrying all those Aladren boys off the Pitch on stretchers at the end of the match.

This game, as far as he was concerned, was about no less than the struggle between Good and Evil. Good, obviously, was the Crotalus team – a mixture of blood types and economic statuses, with two girls, one of them the Muggleborn captain – while the Aladren team was the elitist Evil, with their token girl just a front to keep the wide world from noticing how they were, and not a very effective one at that. It was perhaps funny that Crotalus was supposed to be the House that was about proper society and part of the reason he felt weird when he noticed his badges was that the vast majority of the Crotalus leadership structure and all of its Quidditch captains for as long as he could remember had been girls, but he could casually chalk that up to a deliberate smear campaign by the Aladren menace. And ignore the presence of plenty of girls who did live up to the reputations of those girls of years past who’d made the House a byword for plotting and drama.

Well, not really. Really, he was perfectly aware that he was running an increasingly ridiculous internal narrative, building on each funny supposition, to distract himself from being anxious about their prospects or getting gloomy about the likelihood of getting hit with a Bludger again, but it was working and that was all he cared about. Going into this thinking right was as important as anything else, and if that meant thinking of Edmond Carey as Darth Vader, then he’d do that.

He wasn’t sure what Marissa was thinking, but whatever it was, she wasn’t long-winded about it, which he appreciated. Coach Pierce wasn’t quite as good about it, but then, there were Gareth and Linus to consider, as well as the new Aladren alternate, the one who – well, now that he looked at the guy, could totally pass for Coach Pierce’s son or something, though he told himself firmly that he was letting his inclination toward conspiracy theories, greatly increased by events of the past few years, get out of hand there. Then, though, there wasn’t much more time for thinking about players as individuals or alternates or relatives or anything else, because the game was on and Crotalus was in possession….

…For about fifteen seconds. Then Aladren got it and, despite a valiant effort on Gareth’s part, kept it. Sam thought he came close to having an opening to intercept, but then Edmond swept in after the second Bludger and Sam decided to lose his chance rather than risk the possibility that the big Aladren was having a bad day which would result in him losing his head instead, the way Nic nearly had two years ago. Immediately, however, he began to look for another, searching first for who had the Quaffle and then for room where he might be useful in getting it or keeping it in Crotalus possession. Crotalus was good, once they had the ball; it was just getting and keeping it that could be a problem against Aladren, which often made up for lack of skill with sheer crazy, especially early in a game.
16 <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font> ...Darn you, authorial coin-toss. 163 <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font> 0 5


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

December 18, 2011 5:14 PM
There was, as far as Arthur could see, no reason on earth why Aladren should lose this game.

It wasn’t so much that Aladren had advantages they had not before – they didn’t – as Crotalus was weaker than it had been. The captain was now the Seeker, so she wasn’t as much of a figure for them to form around as Charlotte Abbott had been. The new Chaser was a second year who hadn’t played last year and Arthur did think he’d observed last year as someone who didn’t get on very well with others; when he was sure that Samuel Bauer just didn’t impress Renee Errant to the extent that Charlotte had, he couldn’t imagine the Chasing team worked in any sort of harmony anymore. They had two reserves, which was helpful, but their new Beater was a first year, and they still had the same Keeper they’d had for the past two years at least, who’d failed to seriously impress Arthur in all that time that he could recall. Aladren, on the other hand, had only lost one player, so their team was more or less as strong as it had ever been, and if their Seeker might have lost a few more of his very few brain cells over the summer, it didn’t seem to be affecting him much. Clearly, they were in the stronger position here.

And yet, Arthur felt like they might have to work for it today. Since the only things he’d had to really work for in ages were keeping up with his notes on people and trying to teach himself Icelandic, that thought wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but he thought his face was probably still a hair too blank as he listened to Edmond’s opening remarks and then to the coach reiterating the rules for the new players. As Renee ran away with the Quaffle, he shrugged slightly before following her.

Katrina and Russell took her sides, so Arthur descended, flying lower to cut off any attempt she might make to toss the Quaffle down to another Crotalus, or take the other Crotali down away from the Aladrens with her, but this time, it didn’t happen that way, and Katrina soon had the Quaffle, and Arthur had to move as a Bludger meant for her almost hit him as he came back up. He left the second Bludger to Edmond, rejoining his fellows as Katrina passed to Russell, then he passed back to her, then –

There! Katrina's aim had been off, and for a moment he'd thought he'd miss it and it would fall, but not so again. Arthur took his hands off his broom and leaned out to snatch the Quaffle from the air, securing it against any attempts by the Crotali, and then wrapped his left arm around it to keep it safe while he used the other to make sure he didn’t do some foolish thing like fall off while flying at a high speed. He covered most of the remaining distance to Mr. Sawyer before he made what he hoped would be the final pass before the first goal, aiming for the nearest blue robe to him and slipping far enough away from the rationality he sometimes prized to wish the ball something as silly as luck – of the Aladren kind, of course; obviously the other team would have a different definition of the term – while it was in the air.

Well, he had read something last year, something French, he thought, about how everyone believed in higher powers when they needed them for something. He wouldn’t call this a ‘need,’ if Crotalus got it they would get it back quickly and that would be all, but it would be nice for them to score so neatly. Besides, much more intelligent and educated people than he had believed in luck before.
0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> Continuing on in the right way 0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> 0 5

<font color="blue">David Wilkes, Keeper</font>

December 18, 2011 8:46 PM
At his end of the Pitch, David was completely unaware of the thing that, to most people, made Keeper a less-than-desirable, or at least less desirable, position. Perched up on his broom in front of the goals, watching the action unfold at more or less eye level, he was enjoying watching the game more than he ever had before, and running his commentary with an enthusiasm to match.

“Right off, right off Crotalus has the ball…they’re heading for Wilkes,” he’d started out, using the persona of the commentator to ignore the lump of anxiety in his stomach about this fact. He wasn’t sure he was ready to be the guy Renée Errant took a shot at – or any of those guys, really. Stupid, when his team was the undisputed winner of every game it had played in recently and he’d held the goals against the boys in blue often enough, but there it was anyway. “Layne comes up, looking for the intercept while Carey covers the bottom, but Errant’s on to him – but not on to McLevy! You go, McLevy, you move it back that way, y’hear?”

Maybe just a little of David Wilkes slipped in at that part, but he ignored it, clapping loudly as the ball moved away from him again in Kitty’s capable hands. “She’s making a clever play, putting the Crotali between herself and the Bludgers – and Carey, sorry, the Captain Carey is helping in that endeavor! Great job, Edmond, great job, your snob relatives would be proud of you today.” He hadn’t been speaking loudly, but his voice dropped lower at that. He did have, after all, some sense of self-preservation. “And the ball’s to Layne…now back to McLevy, no sign of Crotalus interference, the guys and gal in red had better pick up or go home, I’m telling you, folks. Oh…there goes Assistant Captain Bauer for Crotalus, run off by a Bludger, very nice job Edmond. Ball’s to…one of the guys, not sure which, might be the first Carey I mentioned….”

He squinted, trying to see what was going on. “Meanwhile, Seeker Carey is taunting Stephenson, that seems to work for him pretty well…and the guy who might be his twin brother is making a run for the goal! …Except he’s not, he’s passing, he’s passing again, folks…Go, little blue dudes! Go little blue dudes!”

He realized he was almost cheering pretty loudly and stopped before he started attracting weird looks from the Coach and fans, if he wasn’t already. Mumbling to himself was one thing, but getting crazy about stuff happening at completely the other end of the Pitch was a little much. He would rather not earn a reputation as that kind of crazy Aladren. Well, honestly he’d rather not be known as crazy at all, but if he had to be, not like that. There was, after all, crazy, and then there was crazy. Better to be thought of as achievement-crazy than just wacko, he guessed, if one’s sanity had to be questioned.
16 <font color="blue">David Wilkes, Keeper</font> Commenting from my new position. 169 <font color="blue">David Wilkes, Keeper</font> 0 5


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

December 18, 2011 11:25 PM
When Kitty caught the pass, Russell breathed a little easier. For a second. Then it was right back into the game. They were well into Crotalus’ territory now, but there still wasn’t really time to be relieved in the game. That would get him distracted, and then he’d miss something. And while he still remembered that this would not be the end of the world, he was starting to lose that sense. A mistake didn’t seem nearly as permissible, as unimportant in the big scheme of things, as it had only moments ago.

Kitty ran with it, him and Arthur along for the ride in case she wanted to pass again, and when she did, it was to Arthur. Russell rearranged so that he’d be in place if Arthur wanted to pass one more time, but didn’t expect him to do it until he actually did, and then the ball was back in Russell’s hands without very much distance left between him and the goals.

Okay. He had to get to the goals, preferably without getting hit by any Bludgers, though he thought he was – comparatively – safe right this second. He didn’t hear anything whistling in his immediate vicinity, no cracks of bat against Bludger, nothing ominous except just the awareness that the bats and Beaters and Bludgers were out there, along with all the other bodies on the Pitch, which was good, but they could appear at any second, so he wasn’t going to waste any time in making himself less of a target as well as hopefully putting ten points on the board for his team.

Getting to the goals, he moved toward the left hoop before reversing and, praying there was no one behind him to crash into, went backward as fast as he thought he could control the broom before throwing it at an angle toward the right hoop. The gesture wasn’t as smooth as he’d hoped it would be, he had a little more trouble making his elbows go where he’d wanted them to go than he’d expected, much less wanted, to, but he thought it ended up going smoothly enough.

Now he just had to see if it, from the shot itself to his speed in moving, was good enough to get it through the hoop before Nic Sawyer could make it there to stop it from doing that or it just lost momentum and fell down. He wasn't sure which would be worse and was so hoping for neither.
16 <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font> I won the coin toss and all I got was... 183 <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">Preston S., Beater</font>

December 19, 2011 2:23 AM
It was weird for the third-year to play his first game against Crotalus. Crotalus! Since he started playing Quidditch the final had been between those two houses. It would be weird to play it again against someone else. The redhead was sure they were going to win, they always did. The Aladren team was better than Crotalus and the other two. Preston was of the idea that his house team was way better than the rest of the teams. It was obvious; they had a lot of house cups to show for that. He liked being part of the winning team; he loved being part of it. He was grateful to Daniel for introducing him to the game like he had. If it hadn’t been for his former captain, he would have stayed away from the pitch.

This was the first game with Edmond as Captain. So far the practices had been going okay and he didn’t have any comment on them and Edmond’s strategies. Not that he was in a position to give his opinion on Edmond’s captaining skills. The older boy was huge and intimidating, and Preston preferred to stay on his good graces. The loser of this match would be competing for third place, which was something Preston didn’t want to do. It was first or nothing for the redhead.

It was a good day to play Quidditch. He was ready for this; he had been ready for the last two years. This game was different, though. The two teams were not going to battle for supremacy, they were battling for the right to pass to the next round, which was somewhat insulting, really. However, he was all for equality and opportunities and all that. Not really, but it made him feel better to some level. It was just unnatural!

Preston zoomed right into the game the second the whistle blew. They were going to win this! He left the Chasers to do their work and instead of paying attention to their flying he went directly to the task at hand: make their flying environment safe. He needed to do his work. Otherwise, their plays could be thwarted by the opposing team. The third-year beater spotted one of the bludgers flying near him. He smiled to himself and smacked it towards an opposing chaser. The sound that came from the bat colliding with the ball sent a shot of adrenaline through his veins.
0 <font color="blue">Preston S., Beater</font> Poom.Poom.Poom. 0 <font color="blue">Preston S., Beater</font> 0 5

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

December 19, 2011 12:20 PM
At fifteen years old - almost sixteen - Nic Sawyer was starting to lose some of his early adolescent awkardness. He hadn't walked into a wall in months, he was starting to get a little meat on his bones, and he was starting to reach a point where his body looked proportionally normal. Tall, certainly, he now stood at six foot three; but his hands and feet no longer looked oversized compared to the rest of him and his mass was no longer solely confined to his skeleton. When he flexed, he could almost make out muscle bulges instead of just scrawny arms. His doctor said there could still be a couple inches lurking inside of him, but the vast majority of his growth spurts were over and done with. Now his body could work on filling out his height a little more.

Already, Nic had seen significant improvement from the change in how his body was developing. He wasn't as clumsy, he felt stronger, and oddly, happier. For the first time, he didn't look in a mirror and see a skinny too-tall kid, but a young man. He was even shaving now. As much as he didn't like the implications of fifth year and of growing up, he did kind of like where his looks were going now. Unless he dyed his medium brown hair, he doubted he'd ever be called dark, but he was starting to think he might almost be able to claim the final adjective in Tall Dark and Handsome before too much longer. Two out of three wasn't bad.

His improved self-confidence and his increased control over his limbs had also translated into a vast improvement in his Keeper skills. He still wasn't the best keeper the school had ever seen or even the best Keeper playing this year, but he certainly wasn't the hopeless case he'd been when Charlie had stuck a body in front of the goals and hoped it was better than not having a Keeper at all. He'd earned his spot back even with competition. In practice, these last weeks, he'd even saved a fair number of shots thrown by Renee Errant and Sam Bauer, who were two of the school's top Chasers. He didn't stop all of them, of course, but they had to work for their practice goals more than they had in years.

Still, he kind of wished he wasn't up against Aladren right off the starting blocks. He didn't think they were any better than Sam and Renee, but they weren't much worse either. Of course, they'd lost Daniel Nash, so they weren't quite as terrifying as they had been last year. It looked like they'd replaced their former captain with last year's tiny Keeper. He was kind of glad the little girl wasn't Keepering again. That had been kind of insulting. At least Wilkes' wingspan was more than half of Nic's, and the Aladren team wasn't suggesting that a kid the size of a dust mite could protect their goals as well as Nic could Crotalus's.

The whistle blew and Nic headed one direction while Renee and the Quaffle headed the other. He was glad of that reprieve, that he wouldn't have to outrun the Quaffle up to his goals, but when he reached them and turned around, he discovered that the respite had been short lived. The red ball leaped from blue robe to blue robe until it was right up in his face. He thought for a second the Carey Chaser would be taking the shot but then he threw it over to the Layne Chaser who almost went for the goal to Nic's right but then changed his mind after Nic had started moving that way. There was time, barely, to change directions as Layne backed up, and if Nic's arm been even half an inch shorter, he wouldn't have made it, but he leaned his body as far over that direction as he could, extended an arm that went on for approximately two miles, and brushed his fingertips across the ball, diverting it downwards and knocking it just enough off course that it hit the post instead of passing through the hoop five inches higher.

He whooped as the ball rebounded and he dove for it, very pleased with himself and certain that he wouldn't have made that save even a year ago. He'd needed every milimeter of height he'd grown since then, and his flying hadn't been nearly as sharp at the begining of last season. Charlie had drilled him on that, and under Marissa, he'd kept up his mastery-by-repetition drills of sudden one-eighty turns. A life-time of skateboarding hadn't been a bad background for that particular skill either, once he sorted out the different muscles needed for a sitting broom versus a standing board. That had been a lot of his early trouble with flying. He kept trying to use leg muscles to turn and those were useless on a broom. He had almost needed a couple of years to get the muscle memory ingrained enough to pull off the kind of manuevers a good Keeper needed to make the most impressive saves.

Like the one he'd just done. He was still grinning as his hands closed around the Quaffle, snagging it out of its freefall, then rose back up in front of his goals, the symbol of his trimuph still clutched in front of him. He raised it over his head, looked around for a clear shot to one of the red-clad Chasers, found one, and threw the ball.

It was still far too close to relax yet, but he had held up his end of the game, far better than he ever had before. Confidence surged in him, and he was sure this game, this goal, was a turning point for him. He wasn't just a guy Charlie had stuck in front of the goals anymore. He was a Keeper. He could do this, he would do this, and he would be good at it. Merlin knew he had the right size for it. And maybe Rachel Bauer would even be a little impressed.

Now if only the Chasers would hold up their end of the game and get the Quaffle the heck out of dodge.
1 <font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font> Chasers, you're supposed to be on the other side 165 <font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font> 0 5


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

December 19, 2011 1:28 PM
Maybe it was crazy, Topher himself didn’t know, but he was actually feeling pretty good about playing Aladren first. It was a break from the endless routine they’d been stuck in since he got to Sonora, and he couldn’t help but believe, cheerfully, that this meant it was also going to mean a break in the endless cycle of Aladren victories. This was going to be Crotalus’ game, which was going to lead to Crotalus’ year, which was…going to lead to something good, he wasn’t sure what the third element in that chain should be, or very worried about it. His job was just to help them win the game. 

He wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of going against Edmond Carey again, of course. No one sane would be, and even if he wasn’t entirely sane, Topher was still sure he wasn’t quite that far gone. But he wasn’t nearly as nervous about it as he had been in his first two years at Sonora. He and Edmond and he and Preston had all played the same Bludgers before, and while Topher had never been able to save his captain in the end, he’d given it his best shot, and gotten in a hit or two on Arnold Carey at the same time. He wasn’t as wide as Beaters tended to be, and guessed he never would be, but he thought he was definitely no longer the low man in the pack of Sonora Beaters.


That would be his trusty sidekick, Gareth. Who proceeded, as soon as the game began, to be a wild man, going everywhere after a Bludger. Topher was impressed. That was not letting being a first year get you down. 

However, Preston and Edmond were not so impressed that they felt any particular need to let Gareth hit their Chasers, and at least one Bludger was definitely in that vicinity, being aimed repeatedly at Crotali. Topher wasn’t entirely sure what was going on with the other, or for that matter where Gareth was as the game flew, with impressive speed, down through all of Crotalus’ territory toward the goals, but he knew that this was a situation that needed to be handled and, wishing Marissa well and mentally warning Arnold not to be too pleased with this reprieve if Gareth hadn’t already ended it, threw himself into it, deflecting a Bludger from Preston back toward an Aladren just as Russell tried to score.


They were old friends, he and Russell, the kind that happened when your mothers happened to be in the same hospital on the same day having kids which happened to be the two of you. Mellie Goodwin, the cousin of the best friend of Russell’s cousin, was kind of the same way – a year younger, sure, but he didn’t remember enough about being one to remember the time when she hadn’t been tagging along after them, getting into stuff with his cousin Lucy, all that, when they were at home. They were all from the same neighborhood, more or less the same social class, and since they were all also – if only technically in Mellie’s case and weirdly in his – only children, that had fallen together quite well. But when everyone was playing Quidditch, Russ and Mel were opposing Chasers, and it was his job to act explicitly counter to their health and well-being, and he cheered as Nic blocked the shot, waving his bat in brief celebration before he found the next thing to hit a Bludger at.
0 <font color="red">Topher Calhoun, Beater</font> Fly, Chasers, fly! 0 <font color="red">Topher Calhoun, Beater</font> 0 5


<font color="blue"> Kitty McLevy - Chaser</font>

December 19, 2011 3:20 PM
Things were going beautifully. No one had been taken out by a bludger, Aladren had the Quaffle, and the three chasers were moving down the field to make their first assault on the goals. It was marvelous, and Kitty hung back only slightly near the end so that the two boys could make the first goal (she was a bit worried about messing up and looking silly). It wouldn’t do for her as the new chaser to miss her very first attempt, so Kitty whooped as the more experienced team members made that first run. That whoop turned into a miffed little sound when the red Keeper who was longer than any human had a right to be, managed to knock the Quaffle away from the hoop.

Sky blue eyes narrowed as Kitty waited for the large Keeper to right himself and prepare to throw the Quaffle to one of his team mates. Her sharp gaze tracked the ones closest and when the ball flow Kitty brazenly darted between it and the would be recipient. A brilliant grin streaked across her lips as she kept the speed of the movement and twisted catlike though the air as she flew full out at the goals. Her small size was perfect for turning on a dime and she darted towards the right hoop before making a feign towards the center hoop only to throw it at the right.

Kitty had noticed during her own time as Keeper that most chasers rarely threw at the hoop they originally looked like they were going to throw at. This usual consistent behavior was something Kitty hoped to use against the red Keeper. Hopefully her tactic would work, but if not she’d just have to try something else next time. Her blue eyes tracked the ball as Kitty moved. It wouldn’t due to sit still long enough for a beater to take interest in her. “Come on, come on, come on…MAKE IT!” Kitty chanted under her breath as she tracked the path of the crimson orb.
0 <font color="blue"> Kitty McLevy - Chaser</font> Let’s just try that again 0 <font color="blue"> Kitty McLevy - Chaser</font> 0 5


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

December 19, 2011 3:56 PM
By the time, Bludger successfully avoided, Sam reoriented himself and looked around to see what was happening in the game, it was too late to stop Layne from trying to get past Nic.

In previous years, this would have been very bad, at least from a Crotalus point of view. Nic had been the Keeper for some time now just because – for lack of a better way to put it – there was no one else. But he’d been improving, and since they’d come back, Sam had noticed that his roommate had improved a lot. He could save against Sam himself, which he liked to think was not the least impressive feat known to man, and he could sometimes foil Renée, which took some doing even if she wasn’t at the top of her not-always-entirely-quite-sane game. The question now, though, was if he could beat the Aladrens, but Sam thought they had every reason to hope as he crossed his fingers and saw what happened.

For a second, he thought Layne had pulled it off, but then Nic saved it and Sam grinned for one moment in grim satisfaction before darting in to catch the ball as it came back into play –

- Only to swear horribly as he nearly lost his seat on his broom, not to mention his broom itself, because the tiny little girl they were using to prove their entire House wasn’t just an outpost of pureblood male society, no really, darted in front of him to get it and it was all he could do not to crash into her. If he’d had half the money that was on her team, or even just what was on some members of his, he would have crashed and hoped he broke a few of her ribs with the end of his broom, but he knew perfectly well that while injuring himself was acceptable since it would be put right in a matter of seconds once the game was over or he was forced to go down for help, whichever came first, injuring his broom was another matter entirely, because he couldn’t replace it. It was nothing more than sheer luck that he had it at all, and it wouldn't have been the best on the Pitch if the other side hadn't been entirely comprised of the kind of guys who fixed elections and horse races and anything else where probability or whatever it was should have been a factor.

Luckily, he saw Topher and moved helpfully a bit further back, hopefully giving the third year a chance to break someone’s head, while watching the Quaffle closely. Next time, if that happened again, he might save his broom again, but then he might just give in to his current temptation to fly up behind the girl and give her a good hard shove. Aladrens. Why couldn’t they stick to ensuring the school’s good test scores and be content with that? Instead of trying to kill everybody, as often as not including themselves.
16 <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font> Nothing personal, but I hope you get Bludgered to a pulp. 163 <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font> 0 5

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

December 19, 2011 7:31 PM
It was, Nic reluctantly decided, his own fault that Kitty had the ball. He should have looked around more before deciding that Sam was open. His only excuse for this was that she was too small to see. At least he'd had the foresight to get in front of the goals again before throwing the ball out into play again.

She was close, too close really, so she didn't bother to pass. She just faked to his left then shot at the center. No, faked to the center, then went to the left for real. Nic cursed and made another diving lunge to try to block the secondary shot.

He was just a little too far away. Even with his spectacularly long reach, he could not protect the side hoop from the middle. He managed to get a single finger on the leather casing around the Quaffle, marginally diverting the ball, but not enough. It sailed through the hoop, brushing against the inside rim, but that didn't make it score any less.

Growling under his breath, Nic fetched the ball as it fell. He returned to his spot in front of the goal, eyed Kitty in a way that was meant to be intimidating. He took a good look around, this time making sure he found all of the lurking Aladrens before throwing the ball, good and hard, toward the Crotalus Chaser furthest from any of the Aladrens.

"Get it out of here," he yelled at his teammate, not wanting to face a third attempt again so soon. Still, he kept his broom moving, not letting himself get caught flat-footed (flat-broomed?) again. He hadn't had any momentum to throw around to get at Kitty's throw and that freezing inertia would not happen twice.
1 <font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font> That's not at all nice, but I find I agree 165 <font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font> 0 5


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

December 19, 2011 7:31 PM
 
1 <font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font> Aladren scores! 10-0 (nm) 20 <font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font> 0 5