Coach Amelia Pierce

June 08, 2012 8:10 PM
Amelia's midterm had been quite enjoyable but very cold. Returning to Arizona from Boston, Massachusetts had made the school pitch seem downright balmy by comparison, even in January. The fact that it was still below freezing, however, was made clearly evident by the light flakes falling from the overcast skies above them on the morning of the academic year's second Quidditch match.

The competing teams represent Pecari and Aladren, last year's finalists. Pecari had come out on top that game, but Aladren had claimed the Quidditch cup for each of the previous three years before that while Pecari hadn't even made it to the finals. This would be a good match-up, and Amelia expected the Aladrens were especially looking forward to trying to prove that last year had been nothing more than a fluke for Pecari. She was also sure that Demelza Eagle and her team would be equally eager to prove it wasn't.

Both teams were flying under new management this year, too, so Amelia was curious to see how that might shake things up.

She brushed a snowflake off her eyelashes - it was only a light snowfall, not nearly enough to for her northeastern sensibilities to even grace the poor attempt with the description of a 'flurry' but there were definitely white flakes in the air - and checked the progress of the captains' pre-game speeches. The wrapped up shortly thereafter and she called the new team leaders to her.

"Today," she announced loudly with the help of a sonorus charm, for the benefit of the spectators, "we have Pecari, lead by Captain Demelza Eagle and the returning Quidditch Cup Champions, up against Aladren, led by Captain David Wilkes and the previous Quidditch Cup Champions eager to reclaim their title. It should be an exciting match, so let's get to it. Captains, please shake hands."

After they had done so, she sent them back to their teams. She released the snitch first. It flitted around for a moment, then shot away, disappearing from sight. Next, she let out the bludgers. The charmed iron balls flew away, gaining altitude before seeking blood. Finally, she lifted out the Quaffle.

"Game begins on my whistle and ends when a seeker catches the snitch. Whistle on three. One, two, tweet!" Amelia let the whistle override the final count, but she mentally completed the final three as she threw the Quaffle high into the air to begin play.

She grabbed her own broom and followed the players into the sky.


OOC: Quidditch rules are available here, but the big ones are follow site rules, no god-modding, and write long clear detailed posts. Any questions, don't hesitate to put post on the OOC board. Enjoy!
Subthreads:
1 Coach Amelia Pierce Game Two: Pecari vs Aladren 20 Coach Amelia Pierce 1 5


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

June 08, 2012 11:00 PM
As he stepped outside for the first time of the day, Arthur was startled to feel something cold against the bridge of his nose, then to look up and see snow drifting down from the sky. For a moment, he just stood and looked up at it, white flakes briefly touching his black hair or blue robe before they melted, his expression incredulous. Snow. It was going to snow. He did not think they could have much worse luck than they would if the snow began to come down harder. No matter how often he saw it here – which was not really that often, since he did not stay at school for holidays, it was just more often than he did at home – he had never gotten used to snow, and he did not imagine Arnold had, either.

Once he was quite sure the snow was not going to stop for his wish, anyway, though, he began to walk again, his jaw setting with grim determination. They had won in storms, they had won in sun, they had won in pain and through injuries; they could win in snow, too.

He smiled thinly at his teammates as they gathered for the captain’s speech, which he listened to impassively, still seeing Mr. Wilkes more as a barrier to somehow try to remove than as a leader to respect, and then again when he heard what the coach had to say to the crowd before the games began. He had sort of suspected before that Amelia Pierce was not averse to a little bloodshed when Crotalus’ victories were not on the line, and that speech, in his mind, all but confirmed it; if, somehow, anyone had forgotten about last year’s match, she had just reminded them, brought it all screaming back, so that they were all going to be doing their very best to rip each other to shreds from the moment the whistle blew until a few moments after one of the Seekers laid hands on the Snitch.

He flexed his left hand, turned its almost-even fingers. He felt calm today, sharp – a mood he thought fit with the weather, or at least what it would make every breath he took feel like in his lungs soon enough. If it was a bloodbath she wanted, Arthur thought he was more than up to putting in his part of the show.

It was a pity, he thought absently as he mounted his broom, that they could not simply put the Quidditch players on the ground and give everyone a bat and call that a Concert act. There would be at least twenty-four people accounted for, more if the alternates were entered as well, and as the popularity of these games indicated, mock battles were far more entertaining than listening to a dozen queasy renditions of the same set of second-rate songs. Then the whistle blew, though, and Arthur no longer thought of much at all.

He shot up and forward, the air cold against his face, running cold through his hair, and reached out to snatch the Quaffle from the air. It fell neatly into his hands, and he got a more secure grip on it as he turned in the air, rising as he did, and began his run toward the enemy Keeper.

The snow was still drifting down, making the world before him look a bit fuzzy and keeping him from settling completely, but that was, he thought after last year’s disaster, perhaps not the worst thing in the world; anything that kept them from getting complacent could, as long as it did not become overwhelming, be turned into an advantage. He just wished that his exertions would hurry up and warm him, because he disliked the cold. Taking the Quaffle in one hand, he dashed the other across his eyes to have a moment of greatest possible clarity as he looked for an opening to another blue robe and, finding one, took it, passing the Quaffle in a short, clean arc toward his teammate.
0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> And now we begin back toward our rightful place 0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color=blue>Thaddeus Pierce, Beater</font>

June 09, 2012 12:18 PM
Thaddeus didn't find the Arizona winter to be too cold after spending most of his midterm in the mountains of New Hampshire. They had fireplaces in all of the rooms of the house, of course, but even with those going, the sub-zero temperatures had made the midterm rather chilly, especially when he went outside to practice his beating. Aladren's first game would be not too long after their return, and he hadn't wanted to lose any of the skills he had painstakingly gained over the first half of the year. This game would be Thad's Quidditch premiere and he wanted no part in helping Pecari win against his House again.

He still wore beater gloves, as much for the protection against wind and snow as for the palm traction to help hold his bat, and a winter hat (blue, of course), and a sweater underneath his Quidditch robes, so he didn't anticipated getting too cold out here today, even with the flakes drifting down from the clouds. He stood in the huddle as David gave his speech, and wished a little bit that he wasn't the shortest guy on the first-string team. That wasn't an impressive statistic for any beater, never mind the one that was supposed to replace Edmond Carey.

It was, however, somewhat unavoidable when all the other first-string males were in their fifth or fourth year while Thad was only twelve. He didn't turn thirteen until March, and the end of March at that. He thought he was probably taller than Kitty, but the fact that he wasn't sure did not speak highly of his vertical reach at all.

He readied himself on his broom as his sister began counting, and pushed off the ground at her whistle. Though he was certain Coach Pierce would conduct the match in unquestionable fairness, and he wouldn't want her to do it any other way, just the fact that the referee was more closely related to him than to anyone else in the pitch, made him feel Aladren had a very slight advantage if it ever came down to an uncertain call that involved him.

He'd also heard enough stories from Duesius and Wesley about the old Pierce games, back before WAIL discovered the negative impact of Quidditch on females and when the Pierce cousins had numbered exactly fourteen, that he felt pretty sure a foul would have to be pretty bad before she would call one. He wasn't sure that this game was the time to take advantage of that knowledge, but it was an ace in the hole he could hold on to until he thought they needed it.

He eyed Jade Owen, reconfigured his mental file about her to replace the words 'second year girl' with the words 'public enemy number one' and braced himself against showing her, or any of the other Pecari players, any mercy. He was a beater and this was Quidditch. Mercy had no place here.

Thad had been watching where the bludgers had gone since Amelia - er, Coach Pierce - released them and he sped toward the nearest of them. He had a brand new top of the line broom, that he had unwrapped less than a month ago, on Christmas morning. That was the other reason he'd been out in the freezing cold winter this midterm: to get used to the new broom and its new quirks. The broom got him to the bludger faster than any other beater reached it, and he batted over toward where he saw Miss Owen - er, the Evil Jade Monster.

The Jade Monster had attacked the heroic Aladrens a year ago and she it could not be permitted to continue running rampant around this Pitch. Thad drew back his bat, holding it in both hands for greater power, and hit his bludger at her the monster as hard as his twelve-year old frame could make it go. He grunted as his bat made impact with metal ball, his hands tingled, and shock waves passed through not only his arms but also his spine. He had to tuck the bat under one arm and grab his broom with both hands until the vibrations stopped and his steadied. Only then did he feel he was secure enough himself to look to see what had become of the Jade Monster.
0 <font color=blue>Thaddeus Pierce, Beater</font> And now I am here to help 0 <font color=blue>Thaddeus Pierce, Beater</font> 0 5


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

June 09, 2012 12:58 PM
As he stood with the rest of the team, trying hard to resist the urge to fidget and otherwise show un-Assistant-Captain, un-winner-like signs of nervousness, Arnold’s main thought wasn’t about the coming game, or what the team would do to him if he lost it for them again, or Demelza Eagle, or even the snow coming down, which was sure to impair visibility and meant there was little sunlight to help him locate the Snitch more easily. Instead, the main thought on his mind was, I wish Edmond was still here.

His cousin, he knew, had not ranked among the great captains, but he thought that Edmond would be placed, in later years, into the ranks of the great Beaters. In terms of sanity, he had been about what Arnold believed to be average for an Aladren captain, falling neither into the territory of the bizarre nor into the even more unusual land of the completely sane, and he had not held the job long enough to be deemed a winner or a loser if non-Seeking captains really still were thought of that way, but he had been a damn good Beater. He had not managed to keep Arnold from getting hurt at all very often, but he had kept Arnold from getting killed, and had done enough return damage to the opposing Seekers and other players that, as pleasant as he generally was off the Pitch, just having him stand with them during all the pleasantries that happened before a game had seemed to be a little bit intimidating to the opposing teams. And now he was gone.

It didn’t matter, of course – Preston was more than capable of standing up to Demelza Eagle, whose size Arthur had contemptuously assured him he did not believe was backed up by any brains, and Thad had been training, too – but it would have made him feel better, facing the girl who was now the school’s biggest Beater, to have the former toughest Beater around still looking out for him. He liked all of the team, of course, but they had stuck together so much as he Sought and Edmond tried to keep someone else from effectively Seeking at the same time that they had almost felt like a team within a team to Arnold. He was going to miss that.

As the speeches went on, though, and the starting whistle drew nearer, the snow began to make him start thinking more about other things he was going to have to deal with today. He had, to his mother’s annoyance, slipped out into the rain several times over midterm to practice, but practicing in snow had never occurred to him, and he’d never had a chance, anyway, since the only snow he ever remembered seeing in South Carolina was the fake kind at his great-great-grandfather’s that he definitely wasn’t allowed to practice in. It wasn’t very bad, but it might still, all things taken into account, be as bad as rain; he wasn’t sure yet.

At least, he thought as he gave her a friendly wave from across the center, if it was, it would be a problem for Jade, too. He was okay with the thought of an honest competition – even sort of, at this point, relieved. There was more pressure on him to win than ever, but not the same expectation, that he’d held for himself after a while even if no one else had, that he had to win every game, always, no matter what. He’d lost, the world hadn’t ended, and now he could concentrate on playing the game again as long as he practiced more than ever. He never would have chosen to lose, he thought, even if something like the idea had flittered through his head a few times, but since it had happened, he was choosing to look at the part of it that was almost a relief.

The balls were released, and Arnold looked up after the Snitch, trying to follow it with his eyes as he always did, but he wasn’t surprised when it got away from him. It did that even in good weather, and he once again nodded slightly, familiarly, to it, acknowledging that it had won again and they’d try it again at the Championship match. Then it was time for the kickoff, and his first priority became getting high enough to have some flying room and see where Jade had gone at the same time. He needed a minute to assess how the snow was going to affect visibility, but if Jade was better at following the Snitch from the ground than he was, then he needed to be able to jump that way very quickly, too. While keeping an eye out for the Beaters; he knew that if it came to a flat race, he would almost always win if the Beaters didn’t succeed in knocking him off-course.

After a quick loop to clear his head out, he spotted Jade, and then he spotted Thaddeus, who seemed to have decided to jump into the first string with both feet with a Bludger for the opposing Seeker. “Nice one!” Arnold called as he passed the younger Aladren, both because he thought it was an Assistant Captain thing to encourage the other players and because another important thing was, after all, to know who he needed to look to for protection now that his default guardian was no longer here. All in all, he thought Thad might not make a bad replacement; he’d concluded, between one thing and another, that the guy might be almost as crazy as he was, so they’d either work well together or it would be a complete, but possibly very entertaining for the crowds, disaster.

He looked for the Snitch, but continued to see nothing but colored robes and drifting snowflakes and…the other Bludger, heading his way. He couldn’t tell if it had been hit that way or was just still flying at random, but he dodged it quickly, leaving it to Thad to deal with that one, too, or else for it to redirect down to the more crowded part of the Pitch; he thought, at that angle, that either could happen, and didn’t really mind which as long as it didn’t hit him right now. Injuries to the Seeker were, of course, another thing that really entertained the crowds, and entertainment for others was one of the three reasons they were all out here, but he thought a dodge would amuse them enough for now, not yet even five minutes into the game.
0 <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font> And now I am here to win 181 <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font> 0 5


<font color="blue">James Carey, Alternate</font>

June 09, 2012 9:26 PM
Jay wasn’t sure, as he found his way to the alternates’ bench on the Aladren side, if he wished he was one of the people playing today or not. On one hand, he had heard enough about the Aladren games to know that they were very violent and was already shaking in his boots from the cold without adding any fear to it, but for the other, he had yet to work out if moving would help with the cold or not. Usually it would, and if it did then he’d wish to play, but high in the air, on speeding brooms, it might just make their noses come off from frostbite or something, one of those other things he’d run across mentions of in books but had never been in the climate to experience before.

As one of Aladren’s group of alternates, Jay thought that he was going to know all about barely super-arctic climates by the end of the game. He had on, beneath his blue robes, a thick sweater over a heavy shirt, which made his movements feel as restricted as did his thick gloves and the blue-and-black scarf wrapped around his neck and lower face, and two pairs of socks were on beneath his shoes, so he was not freezing, but he was still aware of the cold, shivering reflexively, and gloomily sure it was only going to get worse with time.

The twins, he noticed, did not seem as bothered, but they had a dragon for a mother and had been subjected to this kind of weather for three whole years longer than he had been. Instead of resenting them that, he just decided to be glad he had been born in the south, and that his great-great-grandfather had been unable to insist that he go to Salem. If charms meant to simulate a good climate could still allow for actual snow to fall, Jay was sure he never would have survived winters in the northeast.

At least it was very pretty. He tried to derive comfort from that. His sense of aesthetics flourished better when he was seated comfortably in a window, but there was still that. The white flakes, tumbling carelessly down from a pale gray sky to swirl around them, gave everything a strangely soft look, all out of keeping with the viciousness of the sport that they were all here to watch or play.

If he was forced somehow to be very honest, Jay would have had to admit that he didn’t really like Quidditch that much, but though he thought he was more honest than most of the people he knew, he still wasn’t that inclined to telling the truth, at least in part because he thought that nobody would believe him. He did, after all, when he played, play with as much psychotic abandon as his cousins were capable of, throwing himself into it as wholeheartedly, if not with as much skill, as they did. It was just afterward, when he thought about it, that he found the whole thing a little distasteful. Surely they all had better things to do with their time, anything better to do with their time, than rocket around in the air trying to knock each other’s heads off? Wasn’t that something to do with being more civilized than the cave men?

Then, though, he would think of the trouble his cousins and brothers would get into without that diversion, and it would seem a little less stupid. Not on its own merits, from that perspective it was what it always was, but those still outranked what, say, Brandon, or even Arnold, would come up with to do with the time on their own.

Glancing up toward the blue dot that was his cousin through the veil of the snow, Jay bit his lip as a Bludger sailed in that direction, then exhaled slightly in relief as Arnold maneuvered away from it. So far, the game seemed to be favoring Aladren, but that was proof of how quickly that could change. One Bludger just the wrong way to the back of Arnold’s head, and then….

Jay glanced at his fellow alternates – two of them, both girls, both older than him, though one only by a year and the other, as he understood it, the only one who’d been on the team before. He was struck with the thought that, since the Sonora games didn’t seem to have an official commentator, they looked like the chorus in a tragedy, seated here in their dark robes. One Bludger the wrong way to the back of anyone’s head, or the side of it, or anything else like that, and it would be one of them out there. If something went wrong - Merlin forbid, but if it did - which one would be selected first? Which one of them would it be?
0 <font color="blue">James Carey, Alternate</font> And now I am here to freeze 0 <font color="blue">James Carey, Alternate</font> 0 5


<font color="brown">Mellie Goodwin, Chaser</font>

June 10, 2012 12:36 PM
Snow wasn't exactly an ideal thing to see on a Quidditch morning, but as she stood, feeling somehow as though she were right on the border of invisibility and yet stuck out like a sore thumb at the same time, among the other Pecari players and listened to the speeches from her captain and from the Quidditch coach, Mellie's optimistic smile didn't waver as she thought about the game ahead. Snow was  a little inconvenient, but she was from Illinois, where this would hardly count as a lot of it. She didn't see it as something that was going to really affect their play.

Aladren was, she had discovered privately, still sort of terrifying, but not nearly as much as it had been last year. For one thing, she knew for a fact that they could be beaten, because it had happened in last year's final, and for another, their scariest player had moved on to the next phase in his life, which didn't seem to allow for coming back to  his old school to wreak havoc among the ranks of the Pecari Quidditch team. The Beaters had been developing more and more of a habit of being a major determining factor in the games, and today, with Demelza, Pecari was the one with the biggest - no dreadful pun intended - advantage in that way. 

She had dressed warmly, but not bundled up, since she wanted to be able to move freely in the air, and rubbed her hands together once more before mounting her broom. Here they were. Here it was. The game was about to begin. There was a knot of anticipation in her stomach, building toward anxiety, but Mellie found that her head was curiously empty, strangely distant from everything going on around her and which she knew to be in the near future.

And then the whistle blew.

The world blurred as she shot into the air, but she saw the moment when a blue shape ended up with the single splotch of red on the Pitch today, and as soon as she had her broom under control and her head cleared the tiny amount it needed to for organized action, she followed, neither registering nor caring, at first, which Aladren she was pursuing. Drawing closer, she realized, by size, that it had to be Arthur, but that caused no physical hesitation and only a moment of mental: they can lose, she reminded herself, and pushed ahead, going for what she hoped would be the game's first interception.

She didn't make it, but her fingertips did brush the Quaffle for one second, sending it drifting - it was drifting, more than falling, really, because of the Pennifold charms - off-course. She tried to take advantage of that, too, but had stretched so far to do what she had that her balance was off, and she had to fall back to get it back and stay on her broom, just hoping that she had puzzled the Aladrens enough that one of the other Pecari Chasers would have a moment to work with.
16 <font color="brown">Mellie Goodwin, Chaser</font> Er, no. 206 <font color="brown">Mellie Goodwin, Chaser</font> 0 5

<font color =brown>Jhonice Trevear, Chaser</font>

June 10, 2012 8:34 PM
Jhonice was ready for her first quidditch game of the year. She was bundled up and ready to fly. First though, she needed to get her broom. It was essential to a Percari victory, if she didn't have her broom, they had no chance at beating these crazy Aladrens. Arriving early at the pitch she started digging through the school brooms to find hers. Without success. That couldn't be right, it had to be here, it just had to be! She started tossing brooms left and right but came up empty. Curses! The game was going to be starting soon, what was she going to do!?

She had little choice, grabbing the nearest cursed broom she raced out to her gathered team on the field just in time to listen to the opening speeches. When the whistle blew, she took off with the rest of the players. Or at least that was the plan... her cursed broom just hovered there for a moment while she struggled with it. Finally it moved and she was right behind her teammate Mellie. Her cursed broom was acting stupid, swinging all over the place. All by itself it started veering off track from her teammate and the quaffle.

Mellie must have seen what she was doing, and when Arthur moved to pass the ball Mellie expertly knocked the ball straight to her. She caught it, spun her broom around and shot toward the Aladren goal. Or, once again, that was the plan. The first part went off fine, she caught the ball. The second part, took a little work but she got her broom pointed the right direction. The third part was a complete failure, again her broom did not want to move. Desperately she looked around for a teammate and threw the ball to the closest one.
2 <font color =brown>Jhonice Trevear, Chaser</font> Onward Team! 209 <font color =brown>Jhonice Trevear, Chaser</font> 0 5


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

June 10, 2012 9:20 PM
Last year they had lost due to Pecari’s luck. Yes, there was no other way to explain how or why they had won over the more experienced Aladren team. Preston saw Pecari’s win as an insult to his teammates and him. Pecari’s win as going to be a one-time thing, because they were going to regain their rightful place on top of the Sonora Quidditch Hierarchy, and no one was going to stop them. The redhead knew that was wishful thinking, because Pecari could have gotten better since the last time they played against each other, but he preferred to squash that small rational part of him. No, Aladren was going to win. They deserved it. They were better. They had a better team.

The day of their game against Pecari, the weather was less than favorable for anyone. It was snowing. It was a light snowfall, but it was not favorable Quidditch playing conditions. However, the Vermont native was more than used to extreme cold and this was nothing. Preston just hoped his team mates were able to handle it.

The redhead entered the pitch a few minutes before the game started. He was obsessed with punctuality, and he preferred to be there first, even when he got annoyed when people made him wait for too long. It was a vicious cycle, really.

Preston was slowly getting ready while he waited for people to arrive. By the time everyone was ready to start the game, he was already fully clad in hi Beater garments. Every piece of clothing he was wearing was charmed to keep him warm in this climate. It was a way to keep him focused on his task instead of what his body could feel. The only part of his whole body that would be in direct contact with the cold would be his face.

The Aladren blinked as an evil snowflake landed on his eye. The uncomfortable feeling was there for a few seconds and thankfully it was time to start the game. Captain Wilkes’ speech was over and Coach Pierce was ready to start this. Preston smiled as he mounted his broom and began swinging his bat to warm up.

The adrenaline took over his body as soon as he heard the whistle. It was game time. It was time to show Pecari that they were nothing more than lucky players.

Preston instantly flew up looking for one of the bludgers. He swung his bat at the one he was chasing and sent it towards the Pecari Chaser that was currently in possession of the quaffle. However, Preston was a little too slow and sent the bludger when she had passed the ball.
0 <font color="blue"> Preston. Beater </font> Yeah.Yeah. 0 <font color="blue"> Preston. Beater </font> 0 5


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

June 10, 2012 11:00 PM
A hand appeared in the air between Arthur and the teammate he had meant to pass to, a hand where no hand should have been, and it did not take him long to notice the brown robe on the arm attached to it. He spared Melanie Goodwin one slightly irritated look before swinging in to try to collect the ball again…only to discover that he’d apparently taken one second too long, because, with a flash of her typically wildly erratic-seeming luck, Jhonice Trevear had gotten there ahead of him.

Turning quickly, he flew after her, and saw Preston heading back, too. This was either going to go very well or go very poorly, and he had only a fine margin to work with, he suspected, to make it go very well for him; either way, Arthur supposed the audience on both sides would get some thrills from it. He wasn’t as interested in them as his brother sometimes seemed to be, but had to admit that winning in an exciting way could be better than just winning, if they could manage to be exciting without being injured too much.

He’d seen that Jhonice was having difficulties with her broom, so he had been careful in following her, but even so, the abrupt stop caught him off guard, and he fumbled the Quaffle as he cut in from below to keep it from falling into the hands of another Pecari Chaser. He frowned at the lack of style, but recognized, as he used his right elbow hard enough to hurt a bit even through the robes to knock the ball out ahead of him and then followed to get a proper grip on it, that he didn’t have time to worry about something like that, not when the Bludger was coming, heading for the girl he’d just stolen the Quaffle from.

Getting the ball back, the first thing he did was tilt his broom downward, heading into a not very steep dive before turning around and, fairly sure that he’d gotten the timing of that right and not drawn the Bludger to him, began heading back toward the goals, this time moving further and further right, off the exact line of flight he had used before.

His face was still cold, but he was beginning to feel warm through the shoulders, and noticed, from what felt like a distance, that he was humming tunelessly in the back of his throat from the tension of the not entirely successful, if still very much not failed, stunt. Doing things like that made him more nervous than it seemed to make Arnold, at least early in the game, before he lost all semblance of concern for the preservation of himself or any others who were not his brother – he had never yet, he thought, gotten so into the game that he did not mind if Arnold were injured, but he supposed it was hypothetically possible….But the nerves were what made it entertaining, of course. Being in control was its own sort of fun, but so was playing the odds.

Now, though, he could afford to be safe – needed to be, really, since theatrics in a recovery were really just a cover for the failure of the previous pass. Overly dramatic passes were just, in Arthur’s mind, unnecessarily risky if there were other options. He was aware of running a little too hot on confidence backed by the surety of needing to win, dimly, and knew he needed to get it in check, or he was going to wear out long before this game was over, because even if the Snitch was obliging, he didn’t see the Pecaris letting Arnold get to it quickly unless luck truly was on their side to a freakish degree today. There was, though, always the question of what was overly dramatic and what was just guarding against interception.

Taking a deep breath, he kept moving forward and right a little further, then pulled left hard and fast enough to feel a somewhat painful jolt from it while passing that way with one hand. The other hand, though it made him wobble on his broom for an alarming second, he sent out to the right, hoping it might confuse any overly-excited Pecari he hadn't noticed on his tail into going that way if they weren't thinking clearly enough.
0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> Now, let's get back to what I was saying before.... 0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color=brown>Captain Demelza Eagle</font>

June 11, 2012 10:40 AM
Today's game was part of the handful of games Demelza had played in her six-year career as a beater where she actually had nerves. Mel, who was generally a glass-half-full kind of optimistic, couldn't help but be slightly distracted the morning of the game by the kinks that could effect the outcome of this game. First off, it was only the first game of the season, so it made little sense to face the top two teams against each other. Because, honestly, once Pecari beat Aladren, the next game would probably be a breeze. Hopefully. Stupid Teppenpaw and their inability to win even one game. Still, Mel had confidence that her team could beat both Aladren and Crotalus.

Second, the weather totally sucked. Mel hated the cold, so she'd be sure to cast a heating charm on herself and whoever needed it. As Mel ate a giant breakfast filled with lots of protein, she began thinking like her usual self and focused on the positives of this game. Pecari was way better than Aladren. Her team had one of the best Keepers in the school and the best seeker and beater, no doubt about it. Now that Edmund Carey was gone, Mel was quite sure it was safe to say that she was the best. After all, she didn't know of anyone else who played at a national level for their region. Even her chasers were a pretty great team together, growing stronger every day at practice with her guidance. If things worked out like they should, Pecari had the championship title secured.

After breakfast, Mel went back to her dorm to stretch her arms and grab all the supplies she needed, including her broom, wooden bat, leather gloves, goggles, robes, and sneakers. Then, she went down to the locker room to change. She braided her long, chocolate brown hair back into a single ponytail. Her teammates from the North Eastern Regional team taught her how to braid her hair, and ever since she always preferred to play with it tightly packed in a neat braid. Some people thought it was impractical to play Quidditch with long hair, but it was really no problem for Mel once she learned how to properly pull it back.

Soon the rest of her team piled into the locker room. Mel, feeling so pumped to play some Quidditch, patted everyone on the back and spoke words of encouragement. She would get to deliver her first speech as Captain soon, which was also very exciting. The minutes ticked by, and finally it was time to go onto the pitch. Captain Demelza led her team out to cheers from fellow Pecaris. She called her team in for a huddle.

"Alright guys, we have not worked our asses this hard to leave this game not feeling proud of what we've done. Everyone better go out there, beat up some people (cleanly), and prove to everyone that last year wasn't just a fluke. We're a really good team, and if we lose today no one is going to know what we're capable of. And if we're capable of it, why not strive our best to show everyone? Screw the weather, screw everyone who doesn't have faith in us. You know what you're capable of.

"Mellie, Jhonice, and Amira--be rough. Don't be afraid to give someone a nudge as you fly past them. Just don't foul or kill anyone,” Mel said with the faintest trace of a grin. It wasn’t a technique used in many schools, mainly because it wasn’t taught until you played in higher leagues, but if Mel had the knowledge, why wouldn’t she pass it on?

“Sophie, you’re fine. Jade—I’ll be there to guard you. We both know that games often surmount to a war amongst beaters in the seeker domain, so I’ll definitely be there. Elijah—that means you’ve got the chasers. I’ll be depending on you,” she added very seriously. There were two bludgers out there, and sadly Mel could not control them all. Still, she had confidence in Elijah.

“Okay guys, Aladren has good chaser and seeker strength, but we’ve shown that we can beat them. So, just go out there and play the best game you’ve got. Hands in,” Mel said, a rush of emotions coursing through her. She’d been waiting for this moment since she was about five years old and saw her older brother Jamie lead his Quidditch team. She had loved the sport her entire life and always known that one day, she would lead her own team. Her amnesia had not erased those life-long ambitions of hers. This was that moment. This moment finally had come after 18 years of preparing. And Mel was going to do whatever it took to lead her team to victory.

“One, two, three—PECARI!” She shouted, throwing her hand up. She walked toward the middle of the pitch to crush shake David Wilkes’ hand. After that, the whistle was blown, and Mel felt a rush of adrenaline hit her as she rose up high into the air. Curse it, the bludgers were much closer to Aladren’s side than her own. She would have to defend.

Mel flew over closer to Jade, not trying to make it look as though she was defending her. This proved to be a good idea, because in a matter of what felt like seconds a bludger came her way. Mel flew to the bludger and shot it in the direction of Aladren’s seeker with all the power she could muster behind her shot, her green eyes in total concentration. A bludger was already heading his way, so everything was starting to look promising. Arnold got out of the way of the first bludger that Mel had not sent easily, but she wasn’t sure if he could get out of her bludger’s way quite was easily. Mel watched the other bludger, however, which was hit by Aladren’s other chaser, Preston. The bludger was heading towards Jhonice who…who….

“What the hell?” Mel muttered, panic rising in her. Oh, she was going to kill Jhon. “Elijah!” She shouted at him, not quite sure if he was able to make it in time. Mel couldn’t leave him out there alone, there were too many people to protect. However, she couldn’t leave Jade here by herself with Aladren’s other beater possibly ready to redirect the bludger Mel sent back at Jade. Still, that was only a maybe possibility. Jhonice needed help now.

Mel flew over as fast as she could, prepared to call a time-out after something was done about this bludger. She could easily have given Jhonice one of her old but still good brooms up in her dorm—why had the idiot girl not told her that her broom was wonky? Mel was much too far away, though, to reach the bludger. She realized that at the last minute and started flying back towards Jade, hoping to Merlin that Elijah would be there to save Jhon, and then Mel could call a time-out. Right now, a wonky broom was the last thing Pecari needed.
0 <font color=brown>Captain Demelza Eagle</font> Fine. I'll play this game. But remember: You started it 0 <font color=brown>Captain Demelza Eagle</font> 0 5


<font color=blue>Thad Pierce, Beater</font>

June 11, 2012 1:19 PM
His stability restored, Thad resumed his observations of the nearest players. Arnold was nearby and congradulating his attempt. A rogue bludger made a half-hearted attempt at knicking Arnold, but the Seeker avoided it and Preston claimed it for his attack on the Chasers before Thad could figure out if he should just knock it away or send it after Jade, too.

It was just as well that Preston was there to deal with that one before it could bother Arnold again because his analysis had concluded that q more pressing issue was the first bludger he had sent toward Jade and which Demelza - aka the school's biggest meanest beater - had redirected back at Arnold.

Thaddeus was a proper young man with excellent manners and his age was a still tender twelve years. He didn't know many curse words yet - just the one he had once caught his father use and had been told never to repeat or tell his mother about - but he felt the circumstances required that he disobey the first part of that paternal order right now.

After all, he had not only just given Demelza Eagle ammunition to use against Arnold, but Thad was about to get in her bludger's way. This, he was sure was going to hurt much worse that the book Father had dropped on his toe when the elder Pierce had cursed.

He pushed his broom to position himself between the bludger and his Seeker. He had his bat in both hands again, but this time with them positioned to push and deflect rather than swing. He had seen Derry do this in the last match Teppenpaw placed against Pecari. It truthfully had not turned out entirely well for his cousin or his bat, but Thad was smarter than Derry was and thought he could improve upon the move.

Derry had taken the bludger head on. Thad came at it using a more oblique angle. Derry had taken the brunt of the impact in the center of the bat, Thad took it at the thicker, heavier end of the bat which was designed to withstand impacts with bludgers.

It was trickier, and required good timing so fingers did not get crushed into paste suitable for using in potions, but Thad took the hit with another grunt. He was flung backwards, his arms ached and trembled, and there was a sharp pain in his wrist that he was definitely going to have Mr. Bailey look at after the game.

But the bludger wasn't on a collision course for Arnold anymore. Instead it was hanging there in the space where Thaddeus had previously been, seemingly confused as to what it should do next.

Thad decided he should help it along and - after conving his broom to fly forwards instead of backwards again - he took another swing that was both less powerful and more painful than his first swing. It still flew off, heading away from Arnold and Jade and Demelza and himself. It wasn't really heading toward the Chasers, either, but if they kept moving around like they usually did, either Preston could pick it up for another shot or it might find the Chasers on its own, hopefully a Pecari one.


0 <font color=blue>Thad Pierce, Beater</font> Noted: This is all my fault. 0 <font color=blue>Thad Pierce, Beater</font> 0 5

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

June 11, 2012 5:22 PM
When, in tedious little elementary-school social studies lessons, he had been asked questions about his neighborhood or his hometown, David’s response had always mostly been to shrug, unable to come up with a decent answer. None of his people lived in towns; his parents’ neighbors were all their relatives, and while his maternal grandmother did have neighbors, she maintained that they were all drug dealers polluting the loop of road which had been left over after the new highway went toward the city and they did not have anything to do with them. Her country, where David had spent much of midterm, consisted mostly of flat expanses of highway, surrounded by high, grassy banks created by the DOT when it built the highway and littered on either side with junk car lots and empty stretches of grass still marked by rusting signs announcing the names of former sellers of mobile homes and peeling billboards with nothing on them. The city, twenty miles away, had stores in it, and the town ten minutes from them had a pretty main street of third stories and Corinthian columns and gleaming shop windows, but where he could actually say he was from, there was, when school was out in the winter and there were no clubs or camps or enrichment programs, nothing to do and no pressing reason to do it unless one happened to be an adult, driving to either the town or the city every day for work and then home to complain about how miserable everything was; it was increasingly popular, he had noticed over the past few years, to do this over fast food one had driven fifteen more miles to the jumble of chain and franchise restaurants and neon-sign motels and factory outlets – all presided over by the brooding bulk of a Wal-Mart Supercenter – which sat, for no particular reason anyone could discern as far as David knew, on what was otherwise just another anonymous stretch of highway just over the county line.

Where he actually lived, about forty miles from Grandma’s and two counties over, there was more of interest, at least if one could follow all the intricacies of the feuds between and within the various families, all of whom were so intermarried as to make everyone involved practically second cousins anyway, and even a sort of beauty, there in the hills as they really began to rise and suggest that they might in a hundred miles become mountains and half the land was still woods, but there still wasn’t much to do. The young people were generally either leaving or in dazes, while their fathers and grandfathers ran for sheriff – so many, in fact, that last summer, they had been forced to rerun the race twice, because there had been too many candidates to get a clear winner the first time around. Houses were scattered there in little clumps, mainly of close relatives; David lived directly across the road from his uncle, who lived on the property right next to his grandparents, while his grandfather’s brother had the next house down from them and David’s aunt was across the road from them and his first cousins, his uncle’s two eldest kids, bracketed either side of this arrangement like lookouts.

That was not much company, the houses spaced out over a few miles because of how much land everyone seemed to own in what his sister Annabeth, who seemed happy as a clam in her new internship, insisted was purely God’s country for anyone with more of a brain than Grams, but since they had never told the family exactly why he went away to school every year, it was still enough for practicing Quidditch to be almost as risky there as it was at his other grandmother’s. He did not, after all, want the entire county to find out and then possibly be just bored enough, now that the sheriff had finally been determined to still be the same guy it had been for the past twenty years, to decide to start up a special local version of The Crucible or something. Unable to get the coming game off of his mind, though, he had instead spent most of midterm reading.

His parents had thought he had gone nuts, raiding the bookstore, the library, his aunt’s meager supply of things that nominally qualified as books, even, for volumes about sports; since he had never bothered to tell them that he was on a team, much less the captain of one, they saw this interest as something sudden and bizarre, as though he had announced that he was going to carry a piece of bread on his shoulder for the rest of his life and name it Bob. He had even watched a few movies with a sports theme, his eyes glazing over almost as often as they had during the really technical moments about state university football in the books, all for the inspirational speeches by the coaches. He had topped it all off by reading the first few hundred pages of his mother's battered copy of The Prince of Tides three times and had, by the time he finally got back to the aesthetically pleasing and often entertaining grounds of Sonora, a pretty good idea of what to say to the Aladren Quidditch team before they went back up against Pecari.

The key, he knew, was to show them no fear. If they knew he was nearly sick with nerves over all this, they would rip him to shreds and then not have any homicidal energy left over for Pecari. He had to convince them that now, in the pinch, he was as fond of balancing on the fine line between sociopathy and psychosis as they were.

“We,” he announced boldly, far more boldly than he really felt, “are going to win this game.”

After he announced this, he looked around at them all. “It's cold. It's overcast. But it's Pecari. That should be enough to make everyone want to beat them more than anything, much less something like getting out of a few snowflakes. You all remember last year.” He happened to look at that moment at Jay, who didn’t, but he didn’t correct himself. For one thing, he would lose all his momentum if he did that, and for another, he was pretty sure the guy had heard about it, anyway. “You know they beat us then. You know what that felt like.” He put his hand over his heart at the memory for a moment, feeling like an utter fool but hoping that his flush passed for excitement and cold. “Are any of you planning to let that happen again? Didn’t think so,” he continued, without pausing for breath to allow any of them to actually answer that. “You lot are the toughest Quidditch players in this school, bar none, and you are going to obliterate that team over there.” One of the fun things about being an Aladren was that he could use big words in a sports speech. “I don’t want to see a Pecari walk off the Pitch – I want them all in the medic’s tent at the end while we do the Tennessee Waltz. You all know what you’re supposed to do. Let’s go dismember people!”

Having hit the high point of his speech, David bit the inside of his mouth hard to keep from completely shattering the mood by adding an order to pray, though he did so himself, briefly, in his head. Either way, it wasn’t going to hurt anything, because if the Pecaris didn’t need it by the end, then he would even more than he already did just on account of nerves, and either way, the souls of the rest of the team would probably need all the intercession they could get by tomorrow. As they headed for the center of the Pitch, he wished, for the thousandth time, that he had figured out a spell to play music, as that was something to do instead of really listening to what the coach was saying, lest it make him throw up on her shoes. That wouldn’t go a long way toward getting things to go his way in the event of a dubious call. He forced himself to smile through the handshake with Demelza Eagle, he thought he sort of blanked out for a moment after that, and then they were all in the air.

He headed for the Aladren goals, blinking snow out of his eyes and shivering for the first time as he made the turn so he could hover in front of the goals while facing the action, causing some cold wind to go up his sleeves. He looked out, with the best seat in the house, over the Chasers, who quickly managed the first back-and-forth, and up to the Seekers, who seemed to have the Bludgers flying already – why was Thad with the Seekers, again? He was too little, he and Arnold were both going to have pureblood parents coming after David when they were scraped off the Pitch in sections, Demelza was there, and while she hadn’t looked that tough when they had Edmond playing on their side, now that they didn’t she looked pretty damn big and bad after all – and crossed his fingers as best he could while continuing to wear his gloves that things were going to keep going Aladren’s way, as far as they had been so far. He did not think, somehow, that if they lost, they were going to blame Arnold, not when half the team was either related to or rooming with him and they had this handy-dandy Muggleborn scapegoat on hand to use while they gave the old boy one last chance in the name of the club.
16 <font color="blue">Captain Wilkes, Keeper</font> Dropping in with your captain's speech, Aladren. 169 <font color="blue">Captain Wilkes, Keeper</font> 0 5


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

June 12, 2012 9:21 PM
The snow falling over the Quidditch Pitch wasn’t, in Russell’s estimation, very much of a snowfall, but it was enough to make him need to blink and refocus his eyes every now and then. He had always found snow a little disorienting to look through, and though a level of prior experience, in the park, made him think that maybe it wouldn’t be quite as bad playing Quidditch, adrenaline and all, he didn’t think, either, that he was going to be on top form today. It wouldn’t have a good thing any day, of course, but he thought it did make it rather worse that not only did he have to worry about Arthur and Preston if he screwed up, but also, by the sounds of it, about David, who had apparently decided that today was the day to come out and admit he was a complete and utter fanatic.

As his eyes came down from another glance at the sky, taken in the hopes that the clouds would look like they might go away soon, he gave the captain another look, too, as he shook hands with Demelza Eagle. Of all the people he might have thought would turn out to be crazy and unbalanced, David Wilkes was…well, okay, he could have bought the guy being crazy, but not crazy like that. Dismembering people, really? That was going a little far even for Preston, at least while they were still on the ground.

Then, though, it was time for the kickoff, and he didn’t think about it anymore. Whatever anyone did, they would certainly (well, almost certainly, anyway) do it after the game, and if the game went well, then he wouldn’t have to worry about being murdered in his bed at all.

Once in the air, he felt lost for a second in the madness of the first moments, but then squinted and realized that Arthur had the Quaffle and all he had to do was fly forward and be ready for a pass. Which, in the end, he wasn’t, or at least wasn’t well enough, because as he saw the ball coming his way, there was Mellie, of all people except maybe her roommate with the broom problems, and the Quaffle was moving toward David, the newly-revealed-as-a-possible-Quidditch-serial-killer captain of Russell’s team.

That wasn’t going to work. Apparently, Arthur didn’t think so, either, because he got the ball back on its way between Mel and Jhonice, ignoring the risks of the move the way he did it, without crashing into either of them or running into a Bludger, and the game was moving back toward Sophie Jamison. He wondered for a split second, as he flew that way, too, if it was at all weird for Preston to play against his girlfriend’s roommate, or if Sara was in the crowd and, if she was, which side she was supporting today, anyway, but the thought was sort of distant, as though girls and dating them and the complications that came with that came from another world.

Air rushed by, and the snow seemed sort of distant, too. He thought Arthur was going to try to pass to Kitty, rather than him, which he supposed made sense after he hadn’t been on the ball last time, but then his roommate changed directions rather abruptly and Russell found himself in possession of the Quaffle. That must have twinged a bit, but it had worked, which was the important thing. Russell covered more ground, then attempted a less elaborate pass, hoping that the next carry would take them all the way down the remaining Pitch to Sophie, and then that she would miss and Aladren would emerge from this sequence of plays with their first goal of the game.

First, not last. They had, as David had pointed out, lost to Pecari last year, which really had been kind of pathetic. To get back to the level of respect they’d had before, especially now that they no longer had Edmond looming in the nightmares of rival Seekers, he thought they were going to have to utterly crush Pecari today, in both the Seeker and Chaser games. But it was better, he thought, to take it one goal at a time.
16 <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font> Now back to our regularly scheduled programming. 183 <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font> 0 5


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

June 13, 2012 7:36 PM
Arnold turned just in time to see Demelza Eagle pulling her bat back to swing. He was, he knew, in range, if he blocked out the fact she was a girl – that, he thought, was what had gotten him in the last game against Pecari; it was one thing to see a female Seeker as real competitor, smaller stature was a help in this part of it sometimes, but though intellectually Arnold knew Demelza could probably break his neck with her bare hands if she wanted to, years of home training still made it hard to view a girl as a physical threat if she didn’t have weapons that relied less on arm strength than a bat did in her hands – and guessed at her strength from her size and past experience. Once he did that, he recognized that he was in imminent danger of being hit.

He darted up in the air, smiling slightly. Now, he guessed, the game had begun.

He winced, though, when Thad got in the way and deflected the Bludger. That had never looked completely effortless even when Edmond did it, but watching a second year do it was sort of painful. He wondered if they should switch Thad with Samantha – not Beater-trained, but at least bigger than any of the other options – or Preston with Thad, or possibly risk letting Arthur have a bat or – something. Thad was trying his best, that was obvious, but he was up against the toughest Beater on the Pitch. Arnold might be able to make it through more of the game without getting hurt, but that wouldn’t last long if his Beater took all the damage in his place.

He felt a moment of hope when he processed that Demelza had started to abandon this part of the game before coming back, though, as though she couldn’t decide what to do. That was good. If it came down to it, he might be able to get her turned around and keep her that way, so she wasn’t her most effective. He wouldn’t do that, though, unless he needed to; in first year, it would have just been fun, but he couldn’t risk anything that might make them lose. He could have fun next year, maybe, when the stakes weren’t so high.

If the stakes ever went down again. Sometimes he wondered if they would. When he had been winning, it had just felt like he had to keep winning, and make each win more impressive than the last, or so he thought it had felt as he looked back on it now; now, after he’d lost, there was pressure to make it up, to prove it had been a fluke, that he hadn’t lost his edge, but had just had some bad luck one day and was back on form now. Beat Pecari now, beat Crotalus in the finals…He thought it would be good again after that, things would go back to normal. Crotalus and Pecari would be in the opener next year, and then they would play Teppenpaw in the winter, and Crotalus again in the spring, right back on pattern.

Then, as he tried to think of his next move, looking around for Jade, he saw it. Flash of gold. It was early in the game still, too early, but the snow seemed to have turned the game into something slower than he would have expected anyway, and he expected the people gathered to watch the match probably just wanted to go in, too. If he could catch the Snitch now, it would do, anyway, until they could put on a better show against Crotalus, when it really was all back on the line. He flew after the ball, blinked against the snow once, and found he had apparently overshot it, going past his goal.

That was not what he had intended. He turned again, but this time he did it a little too quickly, making himself slightly dizzy as he tried to find Jade and figure out if she’d seen it, or if he’d just lead her to it. If so, it was time to race, but otherwise to just keep looking.
0 <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font> You say that like it's a bad thing 181 <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font> 0 5


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

June 13, 2012 7:45 PM
His balance caught, Arthur felt a momentary, weakening sensation of relief as he realized that his pass to Russell had been successful. It had been, he thought in retrospect, a moment after it was too late to do anything about it, too elaborate, too messy, but it had worked, and now they were moving on, on further down the Pitch, without another complication. At least not in that one moment where the Quaffle had been in the air, up for grabs and all but completely impossible to fully defend against the Pecaris without risking a foul.

It didn’t really matter, of course – nothing did, except whether or not Arnold could both survive Demelza Eagle and outwit and outspeed Jade Owen – but it felt as though it did. The group nature of hysteria, a dim corner of his mind chimed in; that was all he could think of that could account for it, when he tried to analyze why it was that he felt it necessary to continue to fly back and forth over the Pitch, catching and throwing a ball, becoming angry when other people took it when he didn’t intend for them to have it, feeling relief when he got it where he wanted it to go and away from what he wanted it away from – this was all illogical, and by rights he should have announced so a long time ago, but instead, he voluntarily began to do it at all and then quickly worked his way over to thinking of how to be more impressive about how he did it. That he was in a group which was moving very fast and imagined it had something worth mentioning on the line had to be the key to it, because he surely never would behave so if he were on his own, or even in Arnold’s position, up against only two other people.

Arthur was not sure if the idea that his brother simply enjoyed getting hit by Bludgers more than he saw a point to Seeking made him feel better or worse about it all, but he was confident that it was better not to think about the matter too much.

The pass which came back to him lacked theatrics, but it got the job done, and Arthur felt his hands close around the Quaffle again for a moment before he tucked it under one arm and used the other to ensure that he remained steady on his broom as long as possible. Falling was one of those things it was hard to think properly about; it didn’t matter, the coach was unlikely to let a Carey, or anyone, for that matter, die simply because she wanted Crotalus to have a better chance of winning the Cup, but it was something he imagined would be enormously jarring and unsettling, and might lose them the Quaffle besides, and at the speed he was moving now, he imagined it would be all too easy to do.

On, on. And there were the goals. He was going to be the first one this time to attempt a goal. It was ridiculous to feel nervous, but he almost did – only almost, of course. It was just a matter of speed and aim. Two goals were lower than the third, but she had the lead of seeing him coming – he was the largest of the Chasers, which was of course something that slowed him down, but he could move fast, particularly in a dive. He came toward the scoring area slightly higher, as though aiming for the center hoop, and then angled down sharply, as fast as he dared, extending both arms to give the Quaffle as little space to cover as it was within his ability and the rules to do.

Later, he knew, he would think of a million ways he could have done it better, and berate himself for not thinking of them, but that was the thing about Quidditch. After just a few minutes of moving, a back and forth or two, it got hard to think clearly over the noise of his pulse in his ears, not to mention the other noise on and around the Pitch. In that state, when it came, it was just a matter of doing the best he could, especially now that there was the added complication of his face feeling like it was going to freeze off at any moment above the heat in isolated patches of it.
0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> Which will soon involve a goal 0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color="brown">Jade Owen, Seeker</font>

June 15, 2012 12:11 PM
It seemed unfair in some ways that Pecari had to play Aladren again so soon – neither of them had even had the opportunity to play one of the other teams in the interim, but Josephine had explained that it was probably to stop the two finalists competing against each other for the cup two years running – and so it was eventually and begrudgingly that Jade accepted that she would simply have to best Arnold Carey twice in quick succession, and that was that. She would also have to do it, apparently, in the freezing cold.

She was more or less used to cold winters; Western New York had real seasons, and she’d already spent her midterm bundled up against the chill outdoors. Not that she minded, as she liked snow, and she’d had a pretty good midterm, anyway. She’d taken much delight in teasing James and Josephine about going to some stuck up pureblood party, while she herself had cuddled the cats, sipped endless hot chocolates and spent the evenings completing jigsaw puzzles with her mother. She had, naturally, dedicated the daylight hours to practising Quidditch (though with the ancient brooms possessed by her family it was more a trial of forcing unco-operative broomsticks to bend to her will, but it helped her balance nevertheless), which she hoped would help her to beat Aladren for the second time.

Having looked out the window in the Pecari commons and seen a portion of the garden decorated with a soft coating of snow, the second year had known to make adequate preparations for the game. She pulled on some old, black knee-length socks which had been darned more than once to prolong their lifespan, and a faded green vest before adding sweatpants, a second pair of socks, a long-sleeved t-shirt, a cotton tee with a picture of a pug puppy on the front, then a lumpy knitted sweater, a pair of fingerless gloves, and then her school-provided Quidditch robes, by far the most attractive garment in her ensemble. She half-heartedly braided back her dark brown curls, and grabbed a second-hand knitted brown hat – selected for its warmth, not its aesthetic qualities – for later before shoving her feet into over-sized sneakers and heading down to breakfast.

As a growing girl with a healthy appetite anyway, Jade knew the importance of a good breakfast. Moreover, a decent and nutritious breakfast before a Quidditch game could give her the energy she required to win, and a hot meal couldn’t hurt to boost her comfort levels out on the pitch. Therefore she selected outmeal, drowned in a sizeable helping of syrup, a coffee with sufficient sugar to hide its bitter taste, and two rounds of buttered toast. Then she accosted her sister to insist upon a warming charm being cast to see her through the match before Jade headed to the supply shed and picked out her broom – identifiable by the star and initials carved into the handle right near the tail end.

Preparations finally complete, the Pecari was ready to join her captain and teammates on the pitch. She fully approved of Mel’s speech: it just about relayed Jade’s own thoughts about the upcoming game. They could take Aladren down – they’d proved that much already – so it would simply be embarrassing to lose today. Jade wasn’t prepared to let that happen. She nodded Demelza’s way when her captain related her plans to protect the Seeker. Jade appreciated it; she was obviously the most important player in the game, and while she wouldn’t be Edmond Carey’s target practise this game, she’d prefer not to get Beaten to a bloody pulp by anyone if she could avoid it. Admittedly, she didn’t think it would stop her from putting everything she had into trying to catch that Snitch, but if broken bones could be avoided then that surely would be preferable. Excitement pulsing, Jade put her hand in with the others, being careful to avoid standing too close to Amira in case bitchy insanity was contagious, and hollered'PECARI' along with her housemates. It was times like that when she could understand the thrill of being in a team.

When Mel went off to shake the hand of the opposing captain, Jade jammed her hat on over her head, making sure that it and her hair remained out of her eyes, and then she swung her leg over her broom and took a couple of deep, steadying breaths. Then the whistle blew, and Jade shot up into the air to the clamouring of the crowds… in her mind, at any rate. With the wind rushing past her ears then she couldn’t actually make out for sure whether the spectators were cheering or not, but why wouldn’t they be? The clash of the Titans, Pecari against Aladren, was about to begin. Bring it on.

Unable to maintain her view of the Snitch for very long – that ball had a serious skill in escaping undetected when it wanted to – Jade set about searching for it, and avoiding the Bludgers. That secondary aim moved to the forefront almost immediately as one of the Aladren beaters didn’t hesitate to bring it, and slammed the ball right in the brown clad Seeker’s direction. Luckily, true to her word, Mel was there to deflect the Bludger, and the direction in which she sent it was the cue that drew Jade’s attention over to Arnold. She had to keep half an eye on him during the game, as any good Seeker knew was tantamount to success, which was undoubtedly going to be tricky in this visibility-reducing weather. Not that Jade had any intention of letting something as inconsequential as the climate push her around. Besides, Arnold seemed to be darting about like a mad thing without agenda, and with no sign of the Snitch and no Bludgers on course for her at that precise second in time, Jade took the opportunity to spread her metaphorical wings and began on a cursory lap of the pitch. If that little golden ball was anywhere to be found, she would find it. Pecari’s success was counting on it, and Jade would hate to be the bearer of disappointment.
0 <font color="brown">Jade Owen, Seeker</font> You're a Bad Thing 0 <font color="brown">Jade Owen, Seeker</font> 0 5


<font color=blue>Thaddeus Pierce, Beater</font>

June 15, 2012 7:12 PM
As the bludger sailed away, safely away from both Seekers, and the pain in his wrist dwindled, Thaddeus took a moment to reassess his current situation. Arnold was darting about, possibly in response to the snitch - Thad thought he may have seen something glimmer for a moment but it could have just as easily been a larger than average snowflake. Jade was keeping an eye on everything. Demelza was being highly intimidating just by existing in close proximity to Arnold.

His own usefulness at the moment was questionable. Sadly, wishing to be about a foot taller didn't make it so and he therefore didn't strike nearly enough fear into Jade and Demelza's hearts himself, especially without a bludger to back him up. Having thrown away the one that they had volleyed around earlier, he was pretty much just here to make sure no rogue bludgers wandered near enough to get to Arnold or Demelza.

Another idea did occur to him, though, which he wasn't quite sure what to do with. Last year, when he'd been the alternate, he had worked with Arnold pretty frequently, since the Seeker was generally one of the prime targets in a game, and he'd offered the advice that irritating the other Seeker was part of the game. So far as he could recall, there were no rules forbidding beaters from baiting opposing Seekers alone or in tandem with their friendly Seeker.

There had been enough times when his cousins had told him to get lost, to be quiet, or to bother someone else, often in a raised voice, and sometimes with the outright declaration that he was annoying, that he felt he would excel in this area of Seeker Baiting.

The problem was that the two seekers were just a little too far away from each other right now for Thad to feel comfortable leaving his seeker alone in favor of joining Jade for a conversation, especially with Demelza hovering about. If last year's games were anything to judge by though, there may be an opportunity to try it out later.

In the meantime, he supposed he would just continue to follow Arnold and make sure no bludgers got close.
0 <font color=blue>Thaddeus Pierce, Beater</font> Who? Arnold or me? 0 <font color=blue>Thaddeus Pierce, Beater</font> 0 5


<font color=brown>Amira Thornton, Chaser</font>

June 15, 2012 7:21 PM
Amira was still very sore at Mel for making her Chaser instead of Seeker, giving her coveted position to the rotten second year who’d stolen it the year before. Even after her hard work over summer and winter breaks. Snow didn’t scare the Oregonian. Neither did the wrath of her Captain. She wanted to win, sure. But there was a person inside her who wanted Aladren to win also. Not even because of her sister being a reserve. Her desire for Aladren to at least get the Snitch was purely for her need for Jade to lose. But, as a Chaser, she had the chance of getting enough points to win even when that Carey Seeker caught the Snitch.

Jade was going down, but that didn’t mean Pecari would too.

Amira’s short red hair was pulled into a tight ponytail and a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt were on under her robes, ready for the game. She was to play Chaser and she was not happy with that, but she would do it thanks to her desire to win. She wouldn’t let not getting her spot back ruin her chance to win, regardless. She wanted Pecari to win, but she wouldn’t say no if someone bet on the fact that Carey would catch the Snitch. There was something about that kid that irritated her. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d just stolen her spot, AGAIN? Or maybe because the younger Pecari just gave her such an attitude that the third year couldn’t take? Whichever the reason was, Amira just couldn’t decide. Oh well. she thought. Doesn’t matter anyway.

She walked onto the Pitch and over towards the other brown clad players. She looked around at her teammates, conveniently skipping over Jade altogether. If I don’t look at her, maybe she’s not really there? she thought as she glared at Mel quickly (hopefully before Mel saw the glare) before turning her gaze on Mellie, Jhon and Sophie. Mel started her Captain’s speech and told the lot of them that they worked hard this year and that she, Mellie and Jhon were to be rough and not afraid to give someone a nudge. Be rough, don’t be afraid to give someone a nudge… a large grin escaped her mouth. She didn’t say don’t be afraid to give your own teammate a nudge… Amira thought as Mel finished her thought by telling them not to foul or kill anyone.

“Aw man, why not?” she asked under her breath. She wasn’t sure if anyone heard her, and she didn’t care. Mel put her hand in and then up as she shouted Go Pecari! Amira didn’t join in the hand thing, and Mel went to shake hands with David. Once the Captains shook hands, the game balls were released and players were up in the air. Almost at once there was a Bludger headed to Jade and Mir couldn‘t help but stifle a giggle. Mel hit it out of the way, right towards Arnold Carey who dodged it. And the second one (when she spotted it) was heading right towards her roommate! “JHON!” she screeched. What the heck is the matter with her broom?! she thought as she flew fast towards her. Hopefully I can beat that bludger… I haven’t got a bat, but I have my broomstick handle… she thought, searching her mind for something that could save her roommate if she couldn’t get there in time!

Automatically, (and somehow) she lost her knowledgebase on what she was supposed to be doing in the hopes of saving her roommate. She forgot she was supposed to be a Chaser and trying to get the Quaffle down the OTHER side of the Pitch instead of their own. Her goal of the game was to get the Quaffle through to DAVID’s side of the Pitch and through his hoops, not towards Sophie at the Pecari ones. But her need to save her roommate changed that altogether. She got to Jhon (thankfully) before the Bludger did and pushed her away from it causing the black ball to catch on to her. That’s fine, let it try me… she thought as she flew fast and far away from Jhon and towards the Aladren Chasers by Sophie, dodging the Bludger at every chance. The look on Arthur’s face told her everything she needed to know. He was going to shoot at Sophie’s hoop. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Sophie, in fact she trusted Sophie and her Keeper talents almost more than anyone else on her team, but she wasn’t going to let Aladren ruin her chances.

“Oh no you don’t…” she said, feeling her anger boil up inside her and she shot down faster and faster, knocking the Quaffle away from the hoops and dove after it, catching the red ball in her arms. Mir wasn’t above doing anything crazy to get what she wanted, she never had been before and wouldn’t start now.

Amira flew back the opposite way, back towards Aladren’s hoops and looked for Mellie or Jhon to pass. Seeing one of the brown clad Chasers, she sent the ball at them fast and with not a sign of dramatic flair. The faster Pecari got points the better.
0 <font color=brown>Amira Thornton, Chaser</font> No it won't... 0 <font color=brown>Amira Thornton, Chaser</font> 0 5


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

June 16, 2012 1:43 PM
To say he was pleased to see the new girl - Thornton; he found her family mildly interesting, as they had chosen precisely the opposite tactic to deal with really being closer than siblings generally were from the one he and Arnold tried to use, but he did not think the group would ever be particularly useful to him off the Pitch, where he had noticed that they were emotional enough during Quidditch games that he was sure he could use their tempers against them if he ever needed to - sweep in and intercept his shot would be to lie, but Arthur chose to look on the bright side, where at least things became more interesting for a moment. He did not, personally, enjoy it when games got too interesting, he tended to get more bloody-minded than he felt was healthy when they did, but it was good for Arnold.

He had not, of course, told Arnold, but Arthur had begun to make plans for his twin after Arnie became Assistant Captain. He had examined the records of students who had made it to the NQL in comparatively recent history, and so far, he thought his brother, even with his one loss, was the equal of any of them; a few more wins, and he would be one of the best. As far as Arthur was concerned, there was no reason why Arnold should not someday Seek for America, perhaps even win and end their half-lingering reputation as a second-rate Quidditch nation, particularly if the loophole in a certain rule worked the way he thought it would. 

For the ball to begin to roll, though, Arnold had to play exciting games, preferably ones more exciting than ever and less injurious to him than ever at the same time, and he had to win them. Winning was, of course, all in Arnold and today Thaddeus' hands, but the rest of them could certainly help make his brother's games exciting. And so they could both make a killing without the family needing to make work for them and Arnold would even be a valued member of it, someone who had helped them with the...image problems...he had heard the adults discuss how the whole family was to work on getting rid of, giving speeches to youth leagues and other such nonsense they would have to find a good manager to deal with.  That could work, of course, if Arnold merely won a lot on the national level, but Arthur saw no reason his brother shouldn't be pointed toward the heights.

The one trouble might be women. He did not think Arnold might have the problem he might have in that position, one which resulted in such odd thoughts as how fetching Miss Parker would look in her friend Derwent's hat when he didn't think he even favored dark hair, but of course Arnold would marry in the normal way, and from what he had found out about it, Coach Pierce's organization might object to that as much as they would to a Carey who hadn't been disowned giving the diabetes-inducing speeches to young people. Publicity was publicity, of course, but he could see, all too clearly, it bothering Arnold, who would then say something disastrous. There was also the problem of how he thought of his brother and Fae Sinclair as all but a done deal and of her as too sweet for that sort of thing - almost too much to even marry a Carey who was no Grandfather, so to speak. But that was even farther in the future and out of his control than the need for exciting winning games was, so he didn't think of it often.

He followed the Quaffle, as always, and was newly appreciative of the things that came as a result of an abundance of softly clinking money as he considered what Miss Thornton's options were. They tried hard, and Arthur did have a certain respect for that, but he could outfly Miss Goodwin or Miss Trevear, he very much suspected, with at least one of his mid-level headaches, and Miss Thornton, like her flock of sisters, was, as he'd suspected before, too emotional; that little stunt with Miss Trevear and the Bludger proved that. He thought it was a pity she hadn't broken her broom or at least her arm, but it was enough to prove to him that though she might have the technical skill to get in the way every now and then, she was not a serious problem. 

Sure enough, she passed and he intercepted this one from above, turning his left shoulder at a slightly uncomfortable angle to come out of the move - one tricky enough for him, anyway, to pull off without kicking someone in the head and it being an actual accident that his accustomed blank expression had vanished, his face bending itself into a look of concentration; he should, he knew, have switched positions with Thaddeus, since he was getting too heavy for this one to be as easy as it once has and Thaddeus was too small for his, but Mother had been absolutely against it, both because of the stress on his bad arm and because of that time he'd gotten carried away and hit George III in the head more than strictly necessary with a bat; he didn't know why Mother was still upset when Georgie himself had shaken it off, but there it was - with the Quaffle on the tips of his long fingers, hanging there vulnerable for a long moment before he cleared the two Pecari Chasers and pulled it up into a more secure position. Then he turned back toward the Pecari Keeper.

Air rushing by him, tugging at his robes and hitting his face uncomfortably, making his eyes narrow, as he flew fast to outdistance the Pecaris. His arm bent up in angles around the Quaffle. His shoulders curved defensively inward. The process of covering distance was, without a doubt, Arthur's least favorite part of Quidditch. It passed quickly, though, and soon the goals loomed before him once more. 

At the last moment, he made as though to pass to the right, then instead put on an extra burst of speed and lunged for the left hoop, throwing the Quaffle as hard and fast as he could and whirling in the air to head off any interference, on what he viewed as a slim chance indeed that any of the Pecari girls had been able to catch up with him. If anyone got in his way this time, he planned for it to be the Pecari Keeper.
0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> Yes it will 0 <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font> 0 5


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

June 16, 2012 10:28 PM
Jade began to make a loop, rather than moving quickly and with purpose, and Arnold nodded to himself and decided it was okay to take a second or two to get his balance completely back after that fast turn. He didn’t know what she thought he had been doing, but whatever it was, she clearly didn’t think it involved the Snitch.

That, he thought, was probably one of the benefits of having a reputation for deliberately going out of his way to do things just to confuse or irritate his competition. Last year, he had decided not to try it out against Jade, and he had lost, which he took as evidence that he’d had a good idea in the one he’d almost accidentally stumbled onto in his match against Kate Bauer – or at least, that was how he remembered it now. He thought he might have given a lot of that game more significance in memory, and maybe more drama, too, than it had really had or seemed to have at the time, though he was confident that it really had been his favorite game that he’d ever played. That one had been fun, unlike a lot of the games he’d played at Sonora, which had either been dull or quickly disintegrated into brutal, bloody, desperate wars to the finish between his team and those who sought to shove them out of the position of top team. Those games, he had enjoyed even less than the dull ones since he figured out what they were.

So far, he was having trouble deciding which kind of game they were playing here today. It seemed slow, there had been no moments of high drama yet, but yet…they were playing Pecari. Pecari had, by the skin of its teeth, beaten them last year in the Championship game, where only one of them could go this year. He had been expecting this game, snow or no snow, to be a bloodbath, and not a little of the blood on the ground at the end to be his. Had they become insanely overconfident in the past year because of that one win, or was something else going on? He didn’t see how they could be luring him and the rest of the Aladren team into a trap, but….

He had completely lost the Snitch, anyway, and Jade didn’t seem to be making a move for it, so he went back to looking. Keeping a careful eye on Demelza’s position – there was no reason to get hurt before he had to, or to make it necessary for Thad to use his bat again before he had to, to not give the guy a minute to recover from the past few minutes; he thought there was probably something off about a Seeker trying to look after one of the Beaters, but that was how it seemed to be falling out – he flew so that he met up with Jade’s lap around the Pitch and waved at her.

“How’s it going with you?” he called, then flew around her for a moment to give the Aladren crowd something while actually looking all around, cursing the snow silently behind a smile, to be sure that she wasn’t about to fly right on top of the Snitch without either of them even knowing it until it was too late for him to catch up.

So far, it didn’t seem that she was. He began to weigh the benefits and disadvantages of staying close to her versus going to search out in the center of the Pitch.
0 <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font> Either way, it wasn't a very nice thing to say 181 <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font> 0 5


<font color=blue>Thaddeus Pierce, Beater</font>

June 17, 2012 12:24 PM
Arnold seemed to calm down after another moment, either loosing sight of the snitch, or loosing interest in his aerobatics. The seeker looked around and then began a partial circuit around the pitch and then met up with Jade. Thad followed behind, far enough back to keep an eye out for bludgers approaching from either direction. He apparently hadn't needed to wait long at all for the two seekers to get close enough to implement the annoyance plan.

As Arnold pulled up beside Jade, Thad closed in, flying up along Jade's other side, so she have to turn her head to see both of them. He caught the tail end of Arnold's comment, but not enough to get the whole gist of the question. Thad decided it probably wasn't important. It would probably confound Jade more if they seemed not to be acknowledging what the other said.

"Hello, Jade," he greeted, seeing little reason to be impolite even if she was a monster that had to be destroyed. "Your hair looks nice today, did you do something different with it? Or is it just the snow and wind? Where does your family come from? Do you get snow there much? Or is this something you don't experience much?"

He looked around again, to check for bludgers and Demelza. He didn't think she would send any this way with them so close to Jade, but there might be rogue ones, or she might take exception to him being near enough to talk to her seeker and be heading in to join the party as well.
0 <font color=blue>Thaddeus Pierce, Beater</font> Quite rude, really. 0 <font color=blue>Thaddeus Pierce, Beater</font> 0 5


<font color="brown">Jade Owen, Seeker</font>

June 17, 2012 3:54 PM
She was vaguely wondering how devastating to the game it would be for her to land, roll and pack up a few snowballs, and then retake to the skies to pummel her opposition, when the character who’d featured in her thoughts pulled up alongside her. Jade cast Arnold a fleeting glance, but afforded him no other privileges or acknowledgments. She was going to ignore him, even when he asked how she was doing. Firstly, she was not going to let someone else dictate her position on the pitch; Jade was going to fly exactly where and when she wanted to fly, regardless of whatever scheme the Aladrens were executing. Secondly, any opportunity to be overtly rude to a Carey was not one to be missed.

However, when the Aladren Beater who took the form of Thaddeus Pierce arrived on her other side, Jade frowned in disgruntlement. Ignoring two morons was going to be harder than just ignoring one of them, and searching for the Snitch with blinkers on either side was going to be practically impossible, unless the animate object decided to present itself clearly in her direct vision and path (in which case, Arnold would see it, too, and his broomstick was faster than hers, and Thad was definitely close enough to witness any attempts she might make to ram her opponent off his broom). Gritting her teeth, the Pecari filling in an Aladren sandwich lowered her head a little to better tunnel through the falling snow, determined to pay no attention to her blue-clad flying companions.

Unfortunately, Thad’s comment about her hair drifted from his mouth to her ears without her permission, and she could stand it no longer. Mock her on her sub-standard broomstick quality, hand-me-down robes, or even attack her Quidditch skills and Jade could tolerate the baiting, but Thad was drawing on the fact that she was a girl. Jade couldn’t help that, and she’d certainly never drawn attention to it, let alone made any conscious efforts to do anything with her hair other than prevent it from getting in her face. Damn it all, she was going to chop the whole lot off straight after the game.

Resolve to make no response broken, Jade muttered, “Bite me,” just loud enough to be heard before halting her broom and allowing gravity to assist her in dropping several feet suddenly, with the accompanying sensation that she’d left her stomach and all its contents behind. Blithely unaware that one of Aladren’s Beaters was still directing questions at her, Jade pulled a hard right on her broom, and began to make progress again in the opposite direction. Cursed Aladrens and their ability to frustrate her even when she was doing her best to… Oh yes, to look out for the Snitch. Eyes on the prize; that was the plan. Taking a deep breath, the second year unclenched her knuckles and relaxed her misshapen eyebrows from the furrowed line they’d formed across her forehead, and raised her blue eyes to scan the skies. She couldn’t see the Snitch, and neither was she as high as she liked to be in the games – dropping to avoid her enemies (they’d made the progression from mere opponents by successfully provoking her into distraction) had been counter-productive in that respect. Hence she made to rise again gradually, casting a furtive look over her shoulders every few second to ascertain that she was being gained upon by neither Bludger nor player, and silently making pleads that Demelza take out first Arnold, and then Thad – okay, he had a bat, but he was about half Mel’s size; Jade had faith in her Captain.
0 <font color="brown">Jade Owen, Seeker</font> Your keen powers of observation astonish me. 0 <font color="brown">Jade Owen, Seeker</font> 0 5

<font color=brown>Sophie Jamison, Keeper</font>

June 18, 2012 4:59 PM
As soon as Sophie became aware of the weather, her first instinct was to go back to bed. She was used to cold, but that didn’t mean she was a fan of it. Still, the excitement of having a Quidditch match was enough to keep her from resuming sleeping, even if she hadn’t gotten as much rest as she might have liked.

For this particular match, the fifth year was both excited and utterly nervous. Quidditch always an exhilarating game, the adrenaline rush most enjoyable, but at the same time, there was a lot riding on ta victory. If Pecari didn’t win, then it would be the last game she spent as Assistant Captain.

Being Captain, while a huge responsibility, was something Sophie had dreamed of since she first learned the rules of the game at a young age. She loved playing, plus she felt she had the potential to be a great leader. The thing was, she didn’t want to hold that title just yet. The blonde wanted to go to the finals, and she wanted to win. Captain Mel deserved to go out on a high note.

Pecari was totally ready for this. Some of their practices—to some of the players—might have seemed a bit extreme and tough, but Mel Eagle knew what she was doing. All of it would pay off in this game and then in the finals, Sophie was sure. She planned to continue the “harsh” practices next year.

With a bit of sadness at such a great leader having to graduate, the sixteen year old yelled, “Pecari!” with her team and took the field. In no time at all, she was floating in front of the goals, ready for anything, her blue eyes set diligently on the Quaffle. This was going to be a Pecari victory.

The ball traveled and soared through the air, back and forth amongst players. The Aladren Chasers kept creeping closer, and Sophie tightened her grip in her broom. Arthur Carey moved like he was taking a shot at the center, and she positioned herself there. Then he dove off to the side, and she tried to follow but probably wouldn’t have been able to stop the Quaffle if Amira knocked it out of the way.

It was literally no time at all, however, until Arthur was at it again. He was quick, but Sophie just made it to the hoop at which he aimed. The Quaffle bounced against her fingertips, and for a moment she juggled with it a bit before finally gaining real possession. A self-satisfied smirk warped into her lips, and she tossed the red ball to the nearest Pecari Chaser. “Take it the other way now, okay?” she called.
12 <font color=brown>Sophie Jamison, Keeper</font> Not so much 34 <font color=brown>Sophie Jamison, Keeper</font> 0 5


<font color="brown">Captain Mel, Beater</font>

June 20, 2012 6:28 PM
Okay, things had gone too far with the seekers now. Mel never did like it when the seekers decided it'd be a good idea to get all chatty with each other. That wasn't Quidditch. Quidditch was smacking bludgers at people and knocking their brains out. Mel liked quiet games.

Nevertheless, this was taking place, and because of that Mel decided she'd just hover around for a while. The bludgers were pretty calm, but since both seekers were so close, there wasn't much Mel could do. She hovered close by, but not close enough to hear anything. However, when one of the worst beaters in the school (okay, maybe that wasn't true, but Mel couldn't help but despise him for defending Arnold) tried to get in on the chit-chatting, rage started bubbling in Mel. She'd seen this so many times in games over the summer against co-ed teams. Admittedly, they were much tougher games, but that was because the co-ed teams were formed of the top people in the nation. The men on the team always tried to pick on her team's seeker, who was excellent at her job but very small and weak. Mel, being the tallest girl on her team at 6 feet tall, always came over to rescue her and try to scare the crap out of the men.

However, with Jade, Mel didn't think she would have to do that. She smiled proudly as she saw how easily she could walk it off--those stupid boys were no match for her. That meant that Mel's training had been working, surely--the Pecari Quidditch team was a strong group of fine young men and women. Mel flew in a circle around the beater and seeker, who seemed to be working as a pair, and shouted fiercely to them, "Get the hell away from her or I'll beat your brains out!" She raised her bat threateningly and then flew the opposite way, grinning to herself. Okay, so maybe this part of Quidditch was pretty fun too. The Pecari Captain then proceeded to search for a bludger to send at the Aladren duo, no matter that one of them had a bat; they were just plain annoying.

Mel finally found that bludger, although it was quite far away. That was not a problem, however--Mel practiced hitting bludgers across the pitch all the time. Making sure that she wouldn't accidentally hit a chaser on the way, Mel swung her bat back and brought it forward toward the Aladren seeker with much force, all of her anger at the way he and his accomplice/beater protector treated Jade behind her shot. Hmphf. That ought to teach them not to mess with an angry Pecari beater.
0 <font color="brown">Captain Mel, Beater</font> Bug off, you vermon 0 <font color="brown">Captain Mel, Beater</font> 0 5


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

June 20, 2012 7:07 PM
When he spotted Thad again, Arnold was briefly concerned – his first thought whenever he spotted a Beater was always centered on Bludgers, but thought he didn’t see or hear a Bludger, that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t one, and in quarters as close as this, he could probably jump out of the way, but there was a chance that Jade would crash into him and maybe even succeed in pulling them both down – but then he put together what was going on and laughed a little in the back of his throat, even though the wind chose just then to blow what felt like a whole column of snow into his face, leaving him blinking rapidly to try to clear his vision. He had known he liked Thad. Arnold had never heard of the Beaters annoying the other Seeker, but it did make sense, probably more sense than him provoking the others directly did, as Thad had a bat to defend himself with if anyone ever went crazy and decided to attack him. No one had ever done that before, of course, but he thought Jade’s predecessor might have come pretty close in the one game they played against each other.

He glanced toward the Seekers, where she was today. Arthur had stolen the ball from her. He hoped that remained as civil, anyway, as their game had been. He’d hate for Arthur to get in trouble over something as unimportant as a game – or over anything, really, but especially over something that was supposed to be….

Well, not just fun, winning the game and then the Championship could change the results of the House points competition, and he remembered vaguely hearing somewhere that some people relied on sports scholarships to go to school, but anyway, it wasn’t worth getting yelled at by Coach Pierce and probably Mother, too, over. Mother was remarkably indifferent to their injuries in Quidditch – he guessed she had to be, after a point, just as they had gotten used to seeing each other take hits – but she had her ideas, and she wouldn’t, he was sure, like it if Arthur got in trouble for breaking the rules of the game or hitting a girl, much less doing both at once.

“How do you feel about the weather?” he asked at random. “It’s been a bit warm for my taste.” Maybe if he lied about it, it would be easier to pretend it wasn’t cold. He did not like the cold. His hands felt a little numb even now.

Then another voice chimed in, and for a moment, he thought with delight that Jade was answering them, but then he realized her mouth wasn't moving. "Good luck with that!" he hollered back at Demelza, despite the whispery little voice in the back of his head which now, as it sometimes, rarely, did, piped up to tell him something was a bad idea. Making an armed Amazon angry at him, especially after she had made him lose a game before, was the kind of thing that could bring this idea of self-preservation to mind for him, but he had already gotten caught up in the moment. Besides, she was nowhere near a Bludger.

The fun ended, though, as Jade dove to avoid them. Arnold chose to go look around the center of the Pitch instead of completing his sweep of the periphery, since he was pretty sure he wasn’t there and the players were all in the area of the Pecari end, anyway. That gave him…maybe a minute, two if he was lucky to only a reasonable extent instead of an unnatural one, before he’d have to go up or down or all around to avoid getting trampled as the players tried to run back toward that area. The center was usually a hot spot in games, with Aladren never letting anyone get too close to their goals but the others doing well enough to at least push them to the starting line; Arthur told him it was the dullest part of the game, just rushing back and forth over the same few yards of the Pitch over and over again, neither team able to hold the Quaffle very long.

Arthur was probably happy enough right now, then, since Aladren had not experienced very many upsets yet as far as Arnold could tell. He wondered where all of Pecari’s fight was, anyway. Last year, he thought the two teams had been close to warfare by this point in the game, but now they were dominating things easily – The Chasers were keeping all the heat on Sophie and off David, he and Thad were able to push Jade wherever they wanted, really, he was avoiding Demelza, their other Beater hadn’t even gotten near a Bludger that he had seen. Very strange.

He swept over, keeping a close eye on Jade and her movements while scanning the ground just as intently, looking anywhere for the Snitch. He thought of that as a useful skill of his.

Seeing the Bludger, though, was pure luck, since he had only a few glances to spare for Demelza. He turned quickly, but it still nearly caught in his robes, and he executed a sort of awkward flip in midair to avoid geting his ankle smashed. That, he knew, would be bad; joints were messier than long bones. The worst thing would be a hit to the hand, which would break small bones and also leave the thing he was supposed to catch the Snitch with useless for the duration, but an ankle or a knee or an elbow being reduced to a pulp would be pretty bad, too.

Righting himself, dizzy, he did the only sensible thing he could think of to do: without waiting to see if Thad had gotten it or not, he flew, as fast as his broom would go, straight toward Jade, knowing that if the Bludger followed, she couldn't outrun it as quickly as he could, so it would more than likely fixate on her instead of continuing on after him.
0 <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font> Now Mel, that's not a nice thing to call your own Seeker 181 <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font> 0 5


<font color=brown>Amira Thornton, Chaser</font>

June 22, 2012 12:15 AM
Amira had flown towards Aladren territory with the Quaffle and she watched Arthur Carey turn his left shoulder at an odd angle to come out of the move and almost laughed at him.

Almost.

Until she realized that he’d stolen the ball back from her.

The third Thornton had decided not to waste any extra time. She still wanted Pecari to win, though she wanted Arnold Carey to catch the Snitch. It would be hard to do, but there was something about the possibility of Jade catching the golden ball that she didn’t want to happen. I’ve gotta get it back. she thought. It hung there vulnerable, but she couldn’t reach it. DAMNIT! she thought as he pulled the Quaffle back towards Sophie again. The space between the two Chasers got larger for only a moment before she was flying fast and hard after him. You will not do this to me. she thought as the air rushed into her face. Her eyes squinted through the cold air and the snowflakes and locked onto the red ball she was supposed to be paying attention to. She was right next to Arthur now and she saw his arms bend around the Quaffle and his shoulders curved inward. It’s not going to work. I WILL get it back. she thought as they reached the goals once more. The red-head was right next to him and she wasn’t going to let him get the goal. She’d be there to help Sophie keep the Quaffle out of Pecari goals. Aladren wouldn’t get any points other than the Snitch if it were up to her.

He made to pass to the right, but then put on an extra burst of speed and lunged for the left hoop. It had come as a complete surprise to the third year Chaser and she froze in midair. Come on Sophie… I have faith in you! she thought as Sophie made it to the left hoop and the Quaffle bounced against her fingers. “YES!” she called out in a cheer to her teams’ Keeper. “ATTA GIRL SOPHIE!” she called to the blonde haired Assistant Captain as she saw a smirk sneak onto her lips.

Sophie tossed her the ball and told her to take it the other way. “You got it Sophie!” she called and turned fast in the opposite direction with a happy little flip to hopefully confuse Arthur and the other Aladren Chasers.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want her sister to win, it was more along the lines of the fact that SHE wanted to win, but not for her team’s seeker to get the golden ball. Either way, she zig-zagged part of the Pitch and glanced around for other brown robed Chasers to throw the ball to. She didn’t want to think that she could go the whole distance without Mellie or Jhon, but she wasn’t sure where either of her roommates were.

Thankfully, one of them pulled out from the pack and she smiled at the Chaser with a wink of her eye and mouthed, ‘you can do this!’ to whichever of her roommates it happened to have been. She practically handed the ball off to her friend and roommate and flew beside them to get a pass back if they needed it.
0 <font color=brown>Amira Thornton, Chaser</font> How's this? 0 <font color=brown>Amira Thornton, Chaser</font> 0 5


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

June 23, 2012 9:26 PM
Arnold shot past Jade without a clear destination in mind, his main thought being to get away from the Bludger he had drawn down on his head and stay away from it. He didn’t hold to a straight line once he left the other Seeker behind, only briefly glancing back before he jumped higher in the air, then dove for a moment, flew to the side before rising again – actions which looked, he knew, pretty crazy, and were the circumstances where he was most likely to crash into some of the Chasers if he didn’t pay attention to what he was doing, but as seconds passed without a Bludger hitting him, he focused enough again to think he’d eliminated that as a major problem.

After a minute or two of rapid, sometimes gut-wrenching when he was engaging in especially abrupt evasive measures, he slowed down once he was pretty sure the Bludger was no longer directly on his tail and rose in the air in a more controlled manner, looking around to assess what the situation was. He had heard no whistles, nor a great roar of the crowds, so he knew that no one had scored or caught the Snitch, but other than that, anything could have happened while he was on the run.

As he looked, he couldn’t find Jade, so he didn’t know if she had been hit or had also evaded the Bludger by running in the other direction just now. Amira Thornton had the Quaffle and was running it back toward David; if nothing else interesting happened in the next minute, he’d sweep in front of her when she got to him just to be annoying and possibly startle her into passing if she felt inclined to take a page from Teppenpaw’s weird book and try to make a long run down the Pit –

Something glimmered in his peripheral vision, and the thought stopped as abruptly as he had been rising and falling in the air as Arnold turned rapidly to see what it was. Where had it been, where was it –

There. He had it. A slight sparkle, dimmer in this snowy weather than it would have been in the sun, but still visible, and even moving, he thought, almost lazily right now. Just begging him to reach out and catch it….

…Or trying to lure him, because the minute Arnold started toward it, it darted away. Determined to end this before taunting Demelza Eagle ended in her ending him, Arnold flew after it, screwing his eyes up in a desperate attempt not to blink.

He followed it across what felt like half the Pitch before he did, and when his eyes opened again, he could no longer see it. Cursing mentally, he looked around again, knowing it couldn’t have gotten far, and saw it hovering three feet away from him, idle again and this time, apparently content to stay that way. He was all but able to put his hand out and take it from the air.

He was still a little sure this was one of the only slightly strange Quidditch dreams he had sometimes when Arthur materialized. He shook his head as he looked at his brother, then back at the Snitch in his hand. So last year had been a fluke after all; he felt almost sorry for Pecari. It would be awful, to lose year after year, then think that it was over, that the big two teams had been toppled or at least one of them had and the other could be, and then…. “Well, we won,” he said.
0 <font color="blue">Arnold Carey , Seeker</font> Neither is 'loser,' but that would be more accurate, anyway 181 <font color="blue">Arnold Carey , Seeker</font> 0 5


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

June 23, 2012 9:32 PM
 
1 <font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font> Aladren wins! 150-0 (nm) 20 <font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font> 0 5