Quidditch Game I: Aladren vs Crotalus by Coach Olivers
It was a new concept for Florence to put “Coach” before her stage name. She had eased into the role of “Professor” quite well since she had tutored students in Charms since she was eighteen. Lessons were easy for her to plan and charms came naturally, but she had never been in the position of coach before. When the opening arose, she could only imagine how the students would feel with Quidditch canceled. It was sad enough that Amelia was leaving, but to have the sport canceled too? As a student herself in Chicago, she had loved going to Quodpot matches particularly to watch her older brother play. She knew how hard the players worked during their practices and she saw the excitement of game day on the faces of her students in her classes. Quidditch was such a popular sport here and she didn’t want to see it canceled.It was the first Quidditch game of the year today; Aladren against Crotalus. Florence had no reason to be biased towards any particular house which made her an ideal candidate for coach, though it was unfortunate that Teppenpaw would not be able to play Quidditch this year. The weather was relatively cool for the first match, not to mention a little cloudy for autumn. The clouds didn’t allow any sun through which darkened the skies, but Florence doubted it would hinder the match much. Blue would be a little more difficult to see with the players flying around than red, but not difficult by much. The wind was scarce and for that Florence was grateful. Being in the stands or up in the air with a fierce wind always made games hard, though it did make them more interesting.
Since coaching Quidditch was so new to Florence, she did not even know how long each of the players had been on the teams. She could only hope the captains knew what they were doing. She was not so new to it that she was unaware of the fierce competition between the two houses when it came to the game. Starting the year off with these two highly competitive houses would be fun to watch.
As she had learned from watching her brother’s part-time Quodpot coaching job in Chicago, she allowed the captains to make short speeches to their respective teams before opening the game. “Welcome to the first match of the year,” Florence announced, making sure to make her voice audible to the entire pitch. “Here we have Aladren, led by Thaddeus Pierce II, playing against Crotalus, led by Linus Macaulay. Captains, please shake hands.”
Once eye contact was made and hands were shaken, Florence indicated for them to rejoin their teammates. The Snitch was released as well as the bludgers and she removed the Amplifying Charm to speak to the teams. “When I blow my whistle, the game begins. The Seeker who catches the Snitch first wins. Good luck to you both.” She picked up the quaffle and readied herself to kick it into the air. She amplified her voice once more before saying, “Players, please mount your brooms. The game begins in three, two, one—” She blew hard on her whistle and kicked the Quaffle into the air, a motion she had practiced all summer. With that, the game had begun.
OOC: Welcome to Quidditch! Remember to keep your posts clear, detailed, and realistic. Stick to the rules. If you have any questions, tag me on the OOC board. Good luck, teams!
Subthreads: Seeking a clean victory by <font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font> with <font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>, <font color=blue>Thad Pierce, Seeker</font>, <font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>, <font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>, Coach Olivers
Why am I here again? by <font color=red>Leo Princeton, Keeper</font>
Making my first appearance by Theodore Wolseithcrafte, Aladren
Here to cause some trouble. by Sasha Sinclair, Crotalus, Beater with <font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>, <font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>, <font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>, <font color="red">Isaac Douglas, Chaser</font>, <font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>, Andri Thornton, Chaser
Watching. Not crazy. by Leonidas Bennett, Aladren Reserve
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Coach Olivers
Quidditch Game I: Aladren vs Crotalus
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Coach Olivers
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
November 24, 2013 9:33 PM
Seeking a clean victory by <font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
Thaddeus Pierce was ready for this. Aladren was ready for this. Sure, Arnold and Arthur Carey had graduated. True, Kitty had not returned, thus throwing Thaddeus unexpectedly into the Captain role with no experience as an Assistant. But they were all Aladrens, and they could handle these bumps, both predictable and unforeseen, with intelligent capability and only a couple obsessive panic attacks.The latest one Thaddeus had suffered had been shortly after try-outs, when he realized that he didn't really have the time to be a Library Monitor and a Quidditch Captain and participate in a concert event and start preparing for his RATS and offer all of these various responsibilities proper justice. That had culminated in him not offering his name to the highest library honor, which had put him in low spirits for several days following because he had really liked being a Library Monitor.
Today, however, he stood out with his team on the Pitch with confident aplomb, neatly dressed with his captain's badge displayed prominently on his blue Quidditch robes, and greeted each of the Aladrens with an encouraging smile as they arrived. Once they were all present and accounted for, he began the speech he had carefully prepared at breakfast that morning. He would have done it sooner, but then he wouldn't have been able to script the weather issue appropriately. Fortunately, that hadn't changed in the meantime, else his speech may have started sounding like one of David Wilkes' once he started improvising.
Having avoided that, he kept it simple, short and sane.
"Hello, everyone," he opened with a greeting he hoped would put the team at ease. "We are up against Crotalus first." That was less easing but he had mitigating circumstances to offer. "Rumor has it they had trouble filling all their positions this year." He hadn't actually heard this - mostly he'd heard about Teppenpaw needing to bow out due to lack of players - but it could be extrapolated from the fact that Crotalus had no reserves. That was never a comfortable position for a team to be in. "Their most experienced players left are Linus and Cepheus. These are your primary targets, beaters." He'd let Lucian and Jay figure out between them who would deal with whom. Traditionally, the better beater stuck to the Seekers but Thad knew through personal experience that the Chasers were actually much harder to keep track of.
"We have great weather for the match. The sun's not going to get in anyone's eyes. It's cool enough that we don't need to worry about overheating but not so cold we're going to freeze up there. And it's not too windy or raining - or snowing." As Seeker, Thad's job would be a little harder because there wasn't as much light to reflect off the snitch, but that wasn't anything the rest of the team had to worry about. "So we're in luck there. Let's enjoy this game. I think it'll be a good one. Let's go, Aladren!" And with that final exclamation of team spirit, the speech was done.
Professor Olivers - he couldn't really think of her as the coach - soon called him and Linus over to shake hands. Thad did so cordially enough, but offered neither smile nor pithy remark to the other captain. Truthfully, he had tried to think of something in the later category but nothing had really come to him that hadn't sounded stupid when he tried it out loud.
Returning to his team after the handshake, he picked up his broom from where he'd left it and prepared to launch into the air at the inevitable whistle. The broom was a new one, picked out over the summer as a reward for earning Assistant Captain. At the time, he hadn't really expected its maiden game to be his first one as the actual captain, or as a Seeker for that matter. He hadn't known what to expect as far as position went (though he had hoped for Seeker, of course, with Arnold graduated), so he'd picked out a good all-around broom. He hoped it was a solid match for whatever Cepheus was riding.
The whistle sounded and he kicked off, moving immediately away from the Quaffle and the mess of Chasers that he had never really enjoyed working around, either as a Chaser himself or as Beater. It was just too chaotic for him to really follow or feel comfortable around. He like the Seeker arena much better. And while he wasn't tiny like the ideal seeker, he wasn't any bigger than Cepheus - he was actually an inch or two shorter since Ceph's latest growth spurt, though they probably weighed about the same - so they were fairly evenly disadvantaged there. Certainly, he wasn't built to be a beater and he was glad to be rid of the bat.
Once he was a bit away from the main group of players, he started looking around for his yearmate as he rose up toward the traditional Seeking altitude. Spotting the blonde, he angled his broom toward his friend-turned-game-rival. Arnold had always seemed to think that playing Seeker was a mind game as much as it was a physical competition, and nobody could really argue that his methods had proved effective for him. Plus, well, he'd rather make it hard for his own team's beaters to take out Cepheus than make it easy for the Crotalus beaters to take out him.
"Lovely day for Quidditch, isn't it?" he called out once he was within easy vocal range.
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
Seeking a clean victory
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
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<font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
November 27, 2013 1:51 PM
Afraid of dirt, are you? by <font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
It had been a bit of a surprise to Cepheus to find Thad in the position of Seeker this year. He had always seen Arnold Carey as his rival in Quidditch, a rival he had always lost to, and with him one he had hoped for something better this year, a new first year to pummel with his experience and the speed of his broom. So finding Thad in the position instead hadn’t only surprised him, but disappointed him. Though Cepheus had never seen his year-mate play this position, he did not dare underestimate his skill. Thad could have been practising as a Seeker all his life for all Cepheus knew. Perhaps he’d even picked up some of Carey’s skill.That thought was dismaying, but he refused to think any more on it. The diet he’d put himself on was important to begin his day with and he went for a light breakfast. He looked sharp as he did every game day and he straightened himself out in the loo before striding onto the pitch. His confidence was oozing, a tactic he had learnt to psych out his opponent. It hadn’t worked yet, unfortunately, but it made Cepheus feel good in front of the competition.
One more year and he would be entitled the Quidditch Captain of Crotalus. The thought made the air a little cleaner, the day a little brighter. Thad was his year and the captain already, but Cepheus didn’t let that discourage him. Thad was lucky – that was all.
Cepheus listened to Linus’s pre-game speech with enthusiasm, marking his words with more attention than he had to all the dull lectures of his professors. It was odd seeing Professor Olivers conduct this match instead of Coach Pierce, but so far she seemed fine. The former actress in her probably helped her seem more confident than she actually was and it made Cepheus contemplative for a moment. He did something similar in life, acting a certain way in order to hide different attributes that weren’t considered respectable or gentlemanly. Shakespeare had written a line about that idea, but Cepheus couldn’t recite it off the top of his head. He hadn’t spent much time in Muggle literature during his pre-schooling days.
He mounted his broom, ready to take off against this unfamiliar opponent when Professor Olivers blew her whistle. Cepheus kicked off once the whistle was blown and elevated himself a little higher than the mess of Chasers and Beaters. From here he could see any bludger coming his way from a distance as well as any glints of gold. The sun would have helped in picking out the Snitch, but at least the bright light wouldn’t hurt his eyes.
Thad was nearby and Cepheus turned to him briefly. “Yes, it is,” he replied audibly. “Been Seeking long, have you? With Carey gone I’m sure you all were dead-pressed to find someone to follow his legacy. I’m sure you’ll try your best.” He added the last bit sympathetically. Seeking was a mind game as well as a competition of who had the faster broom, though Cepheus had not been on the receiving end much of one of Carey’s psychological speeches. He was prepared, however, more than he had been the first year he had ever caught the Snitch in a match and his preparation over the years couldn’t go to waste now.
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<font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
Afraid of dirt, are you?
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<font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
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<font color=red>Leo Princeton, Keeper</font>
November 27, 2013 1:52 PM
Why am I here again? by <font color=red>Leo Princeton, Keeper</font>
There was no coherent explanation to why Leo was once again dressed in a red uniform with a broom in his hand. The year before he had been hit in the mouth with the Quaffle and his revenge on Carter had yet to take place. Now he was here again with absolutely no reason to be here. Leo had been tempted to skip out on the match completely, but his brother had threatened him the night before with some unpleasant things.It wasn’t fair being the youngest. He had to do all he could to pull his own weight in the world and find someone with loads of money to charm their purse off. It wasn’t fair, being bullied into these situations by a brother who was able to have everything Leo wanted. Leo hadn’t even gone to the try-outs either and if Cepheus hadn’t threatened him he would have stayed in bed.
Blooming brothers.
At least all the hard work and sweat Leo had seen particularly the Chasers experience had been bypassed with his position as Keeper. Once all the formalities were through, Leo rose up on his broom and watched the match begin from a distance. The goals were guarded as well as they could be with one unenthusiastic lad on duty. Leo kept his eyes on the Quaffle, determined to keep himself from getting hurt this time around. With the way Cepheus raved on and on about the Aladren team Leo only expected the worst.
Time was ticking, however, and Leo was beginning to feel bored up there. He wondered how professional Keepers felt when Quaffles were heading straight towards them. They ought to make face-guards for those positions. Leo rubbed his wrists then, wishing it were a bit warmer; it was a bit chilly sitting up here isolated like this at this altitude.
There was little to think about to entertain himself as well. Leo sighed loudly and wondered what would happen if he purposefully allowed Quaffles to make it into the hoops. Why had he joined Quidditch anyway? He knew Eleanor liked lads who could play – being involved in athletics was a necessity as a respectable pure-blood wizard. Whether or not they carried the sport on after school was irrelevant. With all the passion his older brother had for the sport, Leo didn’t think Cepheus would want to play afterwards. Rupert was a different story, but then Rup had always been a ‘different story.’
It was beginning to get unbearably boring thinking to himself, though Leo tended to think a lot. He enjoyed observing people without being observed himself and he couldn’t do much of it here. He tried to pick out people he knew from the stands. No one was bundled up for harsh weather yet so Leo thought he could do a decent job. He had good eye-sight as well, but it didn’t seem to be as great as he’d thought. A sound too close to him made him look up, but it wasn’t anything detrimental to his physical well-being. At least, not yet.
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<font color=red>Leo Princeton, Keeper</font>
Why am I here again?
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<font color=red>Leo Princeton, Keeper</font>
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Theodore Wolseithcrafte, Aladren
November 27, 2013 4:57 PM
Making my first appearance by Theodore Wolseithcrafte, Aladren
On the one hand, he was just a little first year, and well out of the action by the goal posts, so why would anyone be paying much attention to him? On the other hand, he was a first year who had pushed a more senior player out of their position, and he was on the highly revised Aladren team. He thought there might be a lot of focus on the team as a whole, those supporting them waiting with baited breath to see how likely they were to maintain their position at the top; those who weren't might be hoping to see the mighty fall... He comforted himself with the fact that their victory or defeat was largely not going to be upon his shoulders. He had a fifteen goal margin for error before the outcome of the match became in any way his fault. He certainly didn't want to use too much of that. He wanted to make a respectable showing, for his age and experience, and be able to walk through the halls of Sonora with his head held high. But it was a useful advantage of being Keeper, and one he used to steady his nerves.He had had a sensible breakfast of porridge with sliced banana and maple syrup, which would hopefully keep him going. He felt snug, almost overly so, in the layers he'd piled on but he knew that once he was up in the skies, and had been there for a while, that the cold would try to seep its way in and he would be grateful for the layers.
He nodded stiffly and stoically to everything Thaddeus said, feeling increasingly nervous. He awkwardly mounted his broom when everyone else did, trying to steady himself. He didn't want to shoot off like a cork out of a bottle before the Professor-Coach had blown her whistle. That would be humiliating. In his efforts not to false start, he actually stalled slightly, kicking off just after everyone else. That was ok. He didn't need to throw himself right into anything. He just needed to get to the goal posts before anyone else did. Theodore practically pasted himself to the broom handle, streaking hard and fast towards the far end of the pitch. He knew that it was probably fanciful but he felt as if someone was right behind him. He tried to glance back but it was hard to get a clear view at speed, and if he altered his position and took his time in looking, he would end up slowing himself right down. So furious was his pelt for goal that he far overshot the point where he really should have started slowing down and was thus forced to swing his posture straight through upright and slightly into backwards in order to stop in time. The broom halted abruptly, and he was glad for his gloves as he was sure his sweat-sticky hands would have slipped horribly on the handle, possibly costing him his balance.
Take. Deep. Breaths. he told himself, glancing around to check he wasn't immediately under fire. Being panicky and inconsistent was not the way to do well. He started one of his patterns. He had come up with several patterns that meant he was moving effectively around the goal hoops, covering them all fairly evenly and efficiently.
Through the centre, down and cross through, around and cross back, back past the front and loop the left... he silently recited the motions in his head as he executed them, finding it calming. After a few loops, he switched patterns. He didn't want his movements to be too predictable, as that would make it easier for his opponents to get into positions that he'd struggle to reach for shooting. He looped the outsides of the hoops for a while, varying the number of times he circled each one, always keeping an eye out for approaching trouble.
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Theodore Wolseithcrafte, Aladren
Making my first appearance
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Theodore Wolseithcrafte, Aladren
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Sasha Sinclair, Crotalus, Beater
November 27, 2013 10:29 PM
Here to cause some trouble. by Sasha Sinclair, Crotalus, Beater
This was Sasha’s first real Quidditch game. His first. He had played several ‘games’ back home with his dad and younger brother and had practiced plenty of times with his own team (he was still rather excited to have made the team and although he would confidently claim that it was due to his natural abilities that got him on the team, he knew it was due to a lack of numbers), but none of it really compared to having to play a real game in front of a real audience. Sasha could act cocky all day long. He could smugly tell off anyone who bothered him and whom he felt was less than him, but he was not sure what he would do if they lost in front of the whole school. He was one of the younger ones and so it would be natural for anyone to place blame on him, but Sasha wanted to prove that he was not one to be reckoned with. He would be the best. He had to be the best.Sasha stood with his team, trying to hide any of the nerves that he felt while listening to anything his Captain had to say about the events that were about to unfold. His blonde hair was perfectly in place as it always was and under is uniform he wore a light long sleeved tee shirt. The weather was cool and cloudy, but he was a beater and likely to get a work out. He didn’t want to overheat himself by dressing for the cooler weather. At least the air didn’t seem heavy, so there wasn’t likely to be any rain and with no wind, he was confident that his bludgers would remain on target. While he was assessing the situation, Professor (or currently Coach) Olivers began the game by introducing the teams and having the Captains shake hands. Sasha focused his gaze on his Captain to make sure he didn’t miss any queues from him.
Before they had come down to the pitch, Sasha had stretched out his arms and legs. He hadn’t wanted to do it while the school was watching him because he felt that was rather strange, but now that he was standing here waiting, he took a couple of swings of his beater arm, feeling the weight of the bat in his arm. He might not be a much to look at, but in a few years, he knew he’d be a force that would intimidate the fiercest of them all. He was Sasha Sinclair that was what he was made for.
At the ready, Sasha mounted his broom and kicked off when the whistle was blown. Since Paul had more experience at games, Sasha took to the chasers so that Paul could focus solely on keeping their Seeker in the game. Sasha might not have enough experience to keep up with the bludgers in the game, but he could at least keep up enough to keep the other team on their toes. Or, if nothing else, keep his teammates on their brooms. Either way, he wanted to prove to be essential to the win (and they would win) for his team and prove his spot to everyone.
Now in the air, Sasha looked around to see where everyone was. He spotted Cepheus up above him and his brother sat at the goals. The rest of his team where bunched together with blue players where the quaffle was released. Taking this moment to see how fast Aladrens were, Sasha found himself a free bludger and took a hard swing towards a group of blue players. The sound of the crack as the metal hit the bat was a sweet and electrifying sound that made him forget his nerves and entertain the excitement of it all.
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Sasha Sinclair, Crotalus, Beater
Here to cause some trouble.
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Sasha Sinclair, Crotalus, Beater
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<font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>
November 29, 2013 7:27 AM
So long as it's trouble for Them, not Us. by <font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>
He had always suspected that being Captain of a team contributed greatly to the sense of responsibility he held during a Quidditch game, and Linus was not surprised to discover that he had been correct in his assumptions. He also felt the load on his shoulders was probably increased by the knowledge that he’d coerced two of his players into being on the team, rather than enlisting only those who had volunteered. Unfortunately, the Crotalus team was apparently not as popular this year as it had been in previous terms, and desperate times had called for desperate measures; at least Crotalus had not had to forfeit, like Teppenpaw. Linus was at least spared that humiliation, but forming the team currently around him on the pitch had not been especially easy; while he, Paul and Cepheus each had sufficient experience to put Linus’ mind at ease, Isaac and Sasha were both first years, each playing their first genuine game. The others had been pulled in, and while Linus had to accept that Leo’s previous experiences on the pitch had not been entirely encouraging, and Viktor, though an apparently adept player, was also only in his second year, the Head Boy hadn’t had a great deal of choice; it wasn’t as though he could have recruited any of the other seventh years due to health issues, and the rest of his House seemed to be largely composed of girls with surnames like Deveraux, Raines and Arbon. Eventually he’d subscribed to the ‘better the devil you know’ school of thought, and drafted in two of the previous year’s players. He was hoping it would transpire to be a good decision.In an attempt to supress his various anxieties regarding the upcoming game, Linus had settled his stomach with a breakfast of toast and oatmeal, hoping the starchy food would give him energy rather than make him feel sluggish. He had donned his freshly pressed Quidditch robes and taken up his newly polished broomstick before heading down to the pitch only a little earlier than usual; there was no point in waiting around for ages, but he did want to be the first of his team to arrive so he could ascertain the general feelings of the group concerning the upcoming game. In Linus’ opinion, they had as much chance of winning as any of the other teams. Yes, not all of their players had strictly volunteered for their roles, but that didn’t necessarily mean they would perform any worse on the pitch than those who had elected to be there. Each team had new players, thanks to a seriously detrimental graduating year, and so it was anyone’s guess, really, as to who would win the cup. In fact, if one thought about it logically, there was actually more chance of Crotalus winning this year, seeing as they only had two other teams, rather than three, for competition (though admittedly the same could be said of both Aladren and Pecari, too).
“Okay, Rattlesnakes,” Linus called together his team for a short pre-game pep talk. “There is no reason we can’t win this game,” he began with what was, by and large, the main point of his speech. “You’ve been working hard in practices, so as long as everyone remembers to work as a team, and maintains a good level of dedication to the game, we should come out on top.” He glanced at each player in turn, briefly, and tried not to frown too heavily; he believed his own words, he hoped the rest of his team would, too. “Beaters, if you can take out the opposition then please do so, but I want your main concern to be protecting Crotalus players; it’s much harder to win with injured players. Leo,” here Linus paused just a moment, “do your best.” He didn’t want to intimidate the younger boy – they would, after all, need a Keeper for another game this year, regardless of the outcome of this match. “Chasers, follow my lead and remember to check your blind spots for opposing Chasers and for Bludgers.” Then Linus looked at Cepheus, his Assistant Captain, and uttered just three words: “Catch the Snitch.”
Then, before much more could be said, Professor Olivers called together the two Captains to shake hands. Linus did so silently, wishing imminent elimination of Thaddeus at the hands of one of his Beaters, but feeling it churlish to express the sentiment. Besides, there were not many unfamiliar with the proverb ‘pride comes before a fall’, which was a daunting prospect even when the falling could not be taken quite so literally as when a hundred feet in the air on an enchanted broomstick. Linus felt he had an awful lot to prove this game; not only was he the Captain of the team, but he also held the position of Head Boy, and felt that this rendered him at least more recognisable, if not necessarily more accountable, than others in a similar position. Plus it was his graduating year, and one traditionally hoped to finish on a high, which Linus would agree was immeasurably preferable than leading his team into a losing rank in the Quidditch championship. Then there was the additional matter of his girlfriend, sitting in the stands, watching him, which didn’t add any extra pressure in and of itself, but Linus wouldn’t want to let her down, either directly by his own failings, or as a result of other people taunting her on his account. All in all, Linus had far more to think about than offering a witty retort to Aladren’s Captain as they shook hands. Then he resumed his position, swung a leg over his broomstick, and readied himself for the sharp blast of the whistle.
On cue, Linus kicked off hard from the ground. He wasted no time in soaring past the less experienced players, reached the Quaffle first, and tucked it securely under his arm before taking off towards the Aladren-kept hoops. He knew it was foolish to hold onto the ball for too long, especially at this very early point in the game, and so he swerved towards the nearest of his fellow Chasers, and executed a comparatively short (though he maintained some distance between them; two players were an easier Bludger target than one)pass sideways, not taking his eyes off the ball for a moment, in case the pass was intercepted in the inevitable fray of the game beginning.
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<font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>
So long as it's trouble for Them, not Us.
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<font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
November 29, 2013 11:29 AM
I just don't care to wallow in it by <font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
Despite never playing Seeker in a game before, Thaddeus truthfully was not terribly worried about losing. As both the team's seeker and captain, it would be almost entirely his own fault if Aladren did lose, but he felt oddly confident about the whole thing. Perhaps it was that Aladren had only lost once since he joined the team, or maybe it was that he felt a fresh taste of freedom and competency now that he wasn't confined to a position he knew he sucked at, or perhaps it was simply that he couldn't allow himself to even conceive of losing when this game meant so much to his Quidditch reputation.He'd put in the time. His first year on the team had been as a reserve, and he'd particularly focused on the Seeker position in case anything had happened to Arnold. His summer practices had, by the simple fact that he'd had nobody to play with since Derry left the mountain, focused on Seeking. Well, this summer, he'd had the Anns, he supposed, but that had been kind of weird, and they preferred not letting the Aladren learn their Pecari secrets anyway. And, of course, he'd been practicing with the Snitch since he named himself Seeker this year.
That might not add up to the same amount of Seeking experience that Cepheus and Jade had, particularly in the competitive match realm, but he was no newbie either.
When Cepheus tried to psych him out, he actually laughed. He'd trained under Arnold, not just as an understudy but as the Seeker's guardian beater. Did Ceph really think that would rattle him?
"I'll try," he responded dryly. "I've been Arnold's understudy for five years, I think I'll be okay." If that wasn't strictly true during the last four years when he'd spent most of the practices trying (entirely too unsuccessfully for his taste) to become a competent beater, he had often requested of whoever was the captain at the time that, should Arnold not be able to play, if they could substitute the reserve to Beater and let him play Seeker. It hadn't ever come up, so he didn't know if it would have happened that way, but the request had been made. So he felt he was entitled to make the claim, especially to a rival Seeker during a game.
"You've only won how many games?" he questioned, hoping that was sore point. And that Cepheus wouldn't hold it against him outside of Quidditch.
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
I just don't care to wallow in it
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
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<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
November 30, 2013 2:36 PM<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Rhy
Age in Post: 13
It appears to be... by <font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
Quidditch was going to be brilliant this year. She knew that her friends supported her (in terms of playing, though who they were actually cheering for might well be swayed by whether she was playing them or their house) and this year she had her brother on the team. It was great training together, even if it usually meant she was trying to get shots past him. They had had breakfast together before making their way down to the pitch, which helped her to calm her nerves. After all, she was the older, more experienced one, and had to set an example. How would it prepare Teddy for his first match if she was quaking in her shoes?Lining up with her team, she took the playing conditions in. They were definitely more pleasant than the chilly match she'd played against Pecari last year, or the rain-drenched final. She surveyed the opposition. They seemed to have suffered less with the graduation of the previous class. Their most experienced Chaser was a seventh year and their Seeker was a sixth. Technically, Aladren's was too but Thad hadn't been playing that position throughout his life at Sonora, unlike Cepheus. Still, she felt that he wouldn't have put himself forward if he didn't feel that he stood some chance; he was too good a captain for that, as well as presumably not being a fan of humiliation. She had faith in him.
As the whistle blew, she kicked firmly, ready to swerve and weave amongst and around the fast moving mass of bodies. She saw the Quaffle and it being assimilated into a larger blur of red meaning that a Crotalus player had got it. She looked for a space opening up on the Aladren side of the field, where the player would no doubt be heading, and swerved into it pursuing the blur, who proved to be Linus. The time it had taken to notice that he had the Quaffle and to work herself out of the tangle had given him a precious few seconds head start. She tried not to think of the fact that he was also older and more experienced. Whilst it was true, and whilst it gave him a certain edge, she would get nowhere by giving up and assuming that it meant he would always out-manoeuvre her. She flattened herself against the handle of her broom in hot pursuit.
As she closed in, another red-clad figure hove into view. She didn't think she would be able to get in between them in time – Linus looked to be moving in for a short pass. At the same time, she heard the familiar crack of wood on metal. Turning her head, she saw a Bludger making its way towards her, courtesy of the newest Crotalus Beater. She wasn't in a great position to intercept anyway and it wasn't worth the risk to push herself closer. She swerved quickly upwards, ensuring that the Bludger was passing well below her before fixing her attentions back on the Chasers. She dipped a little, drawing even and ready to slip in between the two of them, so that she could drive the other Chaser away from the centre of the pitch and preparing to mark them like a... well, a hawk.
13
<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
It appears to be...
250
<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
0
5
<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
December 05, 2013 1:11 AM
Sending something their way by <font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
Jay tried, as a rule, to maintain a healthy pessimism about most things, but as he got ready for the game, he couldn’t help thinking that he might have an edge on at least some first-time Beaters because he wasn’t overly bothered by the thought of actually hitting anyone. He guessed he could have spun that into something to be pessimistic about, but he knew he wasn’t a sociopath or anything like that. It was just a game, and in his family, fussing about Quidditch injuries was not exactly the way to establish yourself a good reputation. Toughness was expected, even from the girls, they were just supposed to hide it. That was all.He did not know exactly how well, though, that edge would help him out in the game. Gareth Whitebriar leaving might have made things easier, and one of the new ones being a first year definitely would, but he didn’t know what was what with Paul Bennett. Everything, from his history with the Crotalus Quidditch team to the family name of his future wife, that Jay knew about him indicated he was a fat, useless idiot Macaulay had been forced to use for lack of anything better, but it was most likely smarter to assume he was better than he looked, though he guessed the real measure would be to see who followed Princeton.
Princeton. There was an issue he wished he didn’t have to deal with, especially since the family stoicism about Quidditch injuries meant that cracking his head open with one of the Bludgers would likely not count as discouraging his affair with Theresa if the family found out Jay had known about it for a while now. He tried to put it out of his mind for now. It wasn’t relevant. He would just follow the Bludgers and do what he had to do.
The players all took to the air. It was, at least, good weather – Arnold had always enjoyed playing in the rain, but then, Arnold had also had a thing for playing injured. Jay did not know, and did not want to know, if his cousin was just an adrenaline addict or if he was actually a masochist, but either way, he was sorry for Fae and Arnold was not a good source of advice about ideal Quidditch conditions. Jay liked good weather better, and was relieved to see that their new Seeker agreed. Arnold’s methods and quirks had worked for him, but Jay did not assume that meant they would work for everyone, especially since even Arnold had always assumed some of his luck was, well…just that. Just luck.
Beating was a little more precise. The first year directed a Bludger toward Francesca, and Jay swooped after it even as she avoided it. When he got there, he noted the position of his own Chasers again, picked a Crotalus player he did not see carrying a bat of his own or near one with a bat, and hit it toward that player. Then he rubbed his shoulder, though it didn't really hurt, and hoped luck would favor Thad today and finish the game quickly.
0
<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
Sending something their way
0
<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
0
5
<font color="red">Isaac Douglas, Chaser</font>
December 05, 2013 5:12 PM<font color="red">Isaac Douglas, Chaser</font>
AlumnusHouse: Crotalus
Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 11
You could have kept it, really.... by <font color="red">Isaac Douglas, Chaser</font>
As the captains shook hands, Isaac’s fascination with the grain of the wood his broom handle was made from broke abruptly, and he was, as he had been for most of the day so far, convinced he was going to be violently sick. And then dead. Because really, how else could this end? He was going to puke and then he was going to get hit in the head with one of the Bludgers, by his own disgusted teammates if the Aladrens decided he wasn’t worth killing, and then he was going to die because that was what people whose heads had, one way or another, just been removed from their shoulders did. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.He swallowed hard, touching his throat, as the captains shook hands and he glared at the Aladren stands, where Alicia no doubt was. It was not her fault he was going to die – that was their mother’s fault – but it was her fault he couldn’t help picturing his head in a lot of bright red and gray pieces (lovely coincidence, he thought, that the Crotalus colors just happened to be the same as those of blood and brains). Suggesting he wear a green belt and see if it would keep him alive, just to make him think about decapitation…and mock him for cowardice, of course. For wanting to live. Because he was not a crazy person, he was a slug in her view.
That, he thought, a little hysterically, was what men got for letting women read, the women formed opinions like that and then threw them back in the men’s faces. He’d say the older ones got what they deserved, but it certainly hadn’t been his idea to let Alicia read, so he didn’t see why he should suffer for it. He’d put Alicia in a box and dangle books just out of her reach for the rest of her natural or unnatural life, if it were up to him.
Something to do after – a word which calmed him, at least a little. After, when he wasn’t really dead, because he was taking this too seriously. He tried to think more bolstering things.
At least I can do this. She’d probably enjoy it, but Loser Boyfriend wouldn’t like her anymore if she did, so she can’t. And I can. And I don’t have any conflict of interest, but she does, and whoever wins, I can tell her I heard the friend who didn’t saying that he didn’t like her anymore for being friends with the other one after the game….
Isaac focused on these happy thoughts, and so got in the air. He nearly got run over in the next second, though, because he was too busy thinking, and so he decided he had better focus on the game, lest Alicia’s Middle English mockery become prophetic instead of just mean. He figured out where the Quaffle was, went that way, caught up….
…And almost immediately, as he looked around in all directions, saw a blue robe with a bat and dove to avoid the coming Bludger. Spotting Bludgers was something he had discovered he had a talent for, and while he didn't like the Bludgers anyway, it was, he was rapidly discovering right now, a lot worse when it was an actual enemy on the other end instead of just one of his teammates pretending. Paul and Sasha (both of whom he devoutly hoped had not seen the past minute, though honestly, shouldn't they have protected him better anyway?) did not have an actual vested interest in maiming him.
Self-preservation was not, however, a skill which would go over well with anyone on his own side in a game, so he could tell he was starting to turn red from embarrassment rather than exertion and he willed himself to do better next time...once he figured out where the Quaffle was.
16
<font color="red">Isaac Douglas, Chaser</font>
You could have kept it, really....
273
<font color="red">Isaac Douglas, Chaser</font>
0
5
<font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
December 06, 2013 1:33 PM
Wallowing is all part of the game. by <font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
Thad’s statement was more than a sore point; it was a direct hit at his incompetency as a Seeker. Cepheus was serious about Quidditch and keeping himself ahead of the game, but it had never paid off. This was what Thad really thought of him, that much was plain, and Cepheus felt himself cool considerably against this lad. Alicia could date whomever she wanted, but he didn’t think he could tolerate someone who thought so lowly of him. “Point taken,” he replied with a disdainful smile. “Goes to show ambition and hard work means nothing in the game.” The pitch was always personal when it came to comments like these between acquaintances – trash talk was not something Cepheus was well-versed in and perhaps never would be. “Now if you’ll excuse me--”He cut himself off suddenly at the appearance of a gold shimmer. His take-off was abrupt with not even a widening of his eyes to give any indication of his find. Cepheus made right after it as quickly as possible, angry at himself for allowing Thad’s comment to discompose his focus and ignite his temper. He was angrier still at Thad’s warranted opinion of him. Fortunately Ceph’s anger only encouraged him to fight back, to prove he was indeed a competent Seeker and that he could win a blooming match. He would show him; he would show all of them.
The Snitch disappeared in the midst of the Chasing chaos, but Cepheus was not discouraged. The Snitch enjoyed playing the disappearing game in the early minutes of the match. He distanced himself from the opposing Seeker, unable to speak to him after what he’d insinuated. Incompetent. Cepheus fumed and that anger channelled into energy, causing him to feel restless and itch to ride hard on his broom as he did whenever he felt frustrated at home.
On first being accepted to Sonora, Cepheus had hoped for school to be the solace away from his overwhelming duties he was expected to perform in England, but he had long since discovered that being away from his family simply meant there was more expected of him. He had big shoes to fill after his father who had been the Quidditch captain and Seeker as well back in England. His father had trophies with his name on them and Cepheus had only caught the Snitch once during his time here. It was pathetic and one of his acquaintances rubbing that in infuriated him.
The grip on his broom tightened until his knuckles turned white; he grit his teeth; he attempted to cool himself down by reminding himself of the Snitch. If he lost his cool in a match because of a petty insinuation he would never win. He had never been good at keeping his temper, but he did his best to seem unruffled by Thad’s comment. Cepheus rose up once again keeping one eye on Thad and the other out for gold. Another part of him worried slightly about the bludgers, but he knew he couldn't worry about that. That was the job of the Beaters, of Paul, to protect him. Cepheus missed Gareth now more than he had before. It was his first match without his Beater after five years partnering together. After some practise, Cepheus had learnt to trust Paul on the pitch, but he had no idea how the lad would act in an actual match.
0
<font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
Wallowing is all part of the game.
0
<font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
0
5
<font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>
December 06, 2013 2:29 PM
Jay's a really generous person by <font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>
Ever since the positions list had gone up, Anthony had felt awkward around his Quidditch captain. In the end, he had not resented Thad naming himself Seeker at all – in fact, he was relieved; not having his brother’s position meant he didn’t have to live up to his brother’s reputation, at least not yet – but he was not sure how to express that in a way which would not either seem really weird or else be construed as false, and so he was worried the captain thought Anthony resented him and was hiding that, and…well, he could go around and around in circles with it in his head for a long while, really, but it came up to the same thing, which was him being glad that they didn’t have to interact directly very often.On game day, though, he found himself less worried about that than usual. Maybe it was just too much time around Arnold, who talked about the game and the virtues of teamwork and things like that in a tone most people reserved for religious observations when he wasn’t thinking too much about his image, but Anthony didn’t think anyone was really thinking about positions or interpersonal tensions or anything except the game to come itself. Individual agendas were off the table for the moment. He hoped the effect lasted, it made being in a group a lot easier.
The speech was pretty basic, but encouraging – the weather conditions were, Anthony thought, about as good for him and Francesca and Andrina as they were going to get, and pretty good for Jay and Lucian, too, so there was one less thing to worry about. Arnold had casually mentioned, and then looked very sorry he had done so, at the end of the summer that he expected Crotalus was going to come for blood this year – another reason Anthony was secretly glad to be safe and mostly anonymous among the Chasers, where the Carey name was less likely to draw attention to him. Arthur had been a good enough Chaser, his tendency toward not knowing when to give it up became more pronounced on the Pitch than anywhere else except the pursuit of books people didn’t want to give him, but he had not been a star. Most people – he would never mention this to Arthur, it just didn’t seem wise, but he thought it anyway – probably remembered Arthur the same way, well, they thought of Anthony now, as Arnold’s brother, rather than for his own accomplishments. Anthony thought, too, that it would most likely tell anyone who wanted to know most of what they needed to know about the two of them that this bothered him almost not at all and he was almost as sure that the same could not be said for Arthur.
The whistle blew, and Crotalus got the Quaffle. Francesca was driven away by a Bludger, but Jay redirected it, the Crotalus first year cleared out, and Anthony took the chance to go for the interception, which he succeeded in, turning back toward the Crotalus goals.
They still had a Beater in the area and almost certainly a desire to put everyone on the Aladren team in an even larger amount of pain than Beaters usually wanted their adversaries to be in, though, so Anthony didn't try to keep the Quaffle long before he found one of his teammates and tried his own pass, hoping it went better than the attempt of the last person to hold the Quaffle.
0
<font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>
Jay's a really generous person
0
<font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>
0
5
<font color=blue>Thad Pierce, Seeker</font>
December 06, 2013 3:01 PM
Is that wallowing or sulking? by <font color=blue>Thad Pierce, Seeker</font>
Thad watched Cepheus fly off abruptly, trying not to feel bad that his friend no longer wanted to be near him. He told himself this meant he had certainly rattled his opponent, which was a good thing. Unfortunately, his distaste for causing harm was part of what made him such an awful Beater, and his words had apparently hit Cepheus harder than he'd meant them to.He let Ceph speed off toward the Chasers, unaware than his rival may have spotted the snitch. Rather, he assumed the other Seeker had merely chanced upon Thad's aversion to the Quaffle crowd and used it to assist in his desire to avoid Thad. Had Thaddeus been more ruthless - and less afraid of the flying chaos that surrounded the Quaffle - he would have followed doggedly after Cepheus and not given him a chance to regroup, but he didn't.
Thad hung back instead, looking around for the Snitch, and giving Ceph a chance to apply a mental bandage. He didn't spot the golden ball right away, so he began a systematic flying pattern to search the Pitch effectively and efficiently. When he caught the eye of one of his Beaters, he signalled toward his rival. If Cepheus wanted to avoid Thad, then that ought to be an invitation to the Aladren Beaters who no longer needed to be careful of their captain.
Still no Snitch, though, and he tried to reassure himself that this was not a sign that he was a lousy Seeker as well. It would show itself when it was ready, that was certain. He could only hope it would be nearer to him than Cepheus when it did. In the meantime, he just had to stay focused and ready to burst into action as soon as it was spotted.
0
<font color=blue>Thad Pierce, Seeker</font>
Is that wallowing or sulking?
0
<font color=blue>Thad Pierce, Seeker</font>
0
5
<font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>
December 06, 2013 3:09 PM
I'm not really a fan of either by <font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>
Technically speaking, Paul was not a new addition to the Crotalus starting line-up. He had played Beater in an actual game before most of the people on the Pitch had even come to Sonora. He had taken up his broom and bat as a first year and flown for the glory of the rattlesnakes, and he liked to think he had most likely even succeeded in hitting something, though he would not actually bet on it, because he didn’t remember clearly.That, of course, was because he hadn’t done it in six years. In first or second year, he didn’t even remember which of those it had been, now, but suspected it had been first because he distinctly remembered playing against Edmond Carey and that guy had been gone for ages now, he had played, and then he had retreated to his natural habitat, an observer’s position. He was taking Defense Against the Dark Arts, only a fool or an incompetent wouldn’t even if he was not marrying a Brockert, but unlike some members of the class, his instincts really were mostly defensive, and not even in the big, showy way there, too. When he did more than observe a situation, he preferred to do so quietly, and if at all possible without anyone realizing he was involved; her more proactive tendencies were why he and his older sister Eliza made a good team and had plans to handle much of their business together after school. Beater was a position better suited to his physique than his personality, and even then, he knew most people wouldn’t assume it was that well suited to his physique. He looked soft, not strong; this was mostly true, too, though he knew, too, that he was both stronger and quicker than most observers would assume, though the more observant members of the Defense class might have observed it by now.
As he listened to Linus’ opening remarks and then surveyed the Aladren team, he wondered, idly, for a moment what his teammates and opponents thought on that subject, but knew one set had at least seen him in practice and did not have long to look at the other before the game began and he had to stop wondering and get to playing. Namely, to protecting the Seeker, though Cepheus and Pierce seemed for the moment content enough to play like Arnold Carey, too close to each other for shots to make much sense and talking to each other.
He did not get close enough to hear the conversation, assuming it was either trash talk – one of those things Paul could grasp in theory but could not actually get a practical grip on; since someone who engaged in it and lost would look like even more of a fool because of how big he’d talked before, it went entirely against his nature to risk it, since he always considered failure a possibility, one of the many ways in which he was simply not sports-minded – or else, and worse, banter between friends, since they were people who interacted socially outside of the game…
…Or had been, anyway. Paul was not sports-minded and did not really grasp the purpose or usefulness of rivalries and personal feelings about it all, but others were not like him most of the time, and after a moment, Cepheus flew away. Toward the Chasers. Paul considered whether to try to find a Bludger to attack Thad or to follow his own Seeker, finally settling on the former, trusting the general chaos to protect Cepheus long enough for him to get in a hit at Thad. Flying closer to the action, he came into the path of one of the demonic entities masquerading as part of a game for children and hit it, hard, toward the Aladren Seeker.
0
<font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>
I'm not really a fan of either
201
<font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>
0
5
Leonidas Bennett, Aladren Reserve
December 06, 2013 3:24 PM
Watching. Not crazy. by Leonidas Bennett, Aladren Reserve
Leo hadn’t made the team, and he had surprised himself when he realized he was unhappy about that. He had not even really wanted to join it that much to begin with, but the idea – or something - had slowly grown on him over time, to the point where he might have suspected himself of just wanting what he could not have, if that had been anything other than a ridiculous, illogical position to take.Things like whether or not his thoughts and positions made sense were also things which had grown on him over the course of the first half of his first year. He thought he had always felt that way, that things should make at least some degree of sense, but since he had become an Aladren, he had started thinking about it consciously, in those terms, and getting more irritated with himself when he realized he was using bad thinking. In the old days, he thought he had just accepted it as something that happened so long as other people didn’t notice it more often, rather than getting upset with himself about it. Worrying about it was like caring about Quidditch, something new, something he was still not sure he liked, especially after all the jokes he’d heard about how Aladrens all became certifiably insane after any exposure to Quidditch.
That much, he was sure at least, had just been a joke, because he was not certifiably insane. Leo was completely convinced of that. He was sane, just…not the same way he had been when he came to school. He had started trying to do what he thought an Aladren should, and then noticing it more when he did, and that had made him feel good, so he had tried to do those things even more, and so on. At this point, he thought that if he could just start to think of himself as Leonidas, the name he used with everyone here, he would be exactly who he was supposed to be.
Sometimes, though, he did wonder if this was how other people were, or if he would have gone in another direction if he had been Sorted elsewhere, or if, if he had been Sorted somewhere else, he wouldn’t have had whatever motivation it was he had to be as he was. He didn’t mention those thoughts to anyone, though, because they sounded weird and he worried that people might think he was crazy, getting him back to the idea that Quidditch made Aladrens certifiably insane. He guessed one could argue he hadn’t had enough exposure yet, so he was interested to see how he and his teammates behaved now, on game day.
Thad Pierce, at least, seemed sane and calm enough as he gave them some opening remarks, and the rest seemed to just be playing normally as the game began. Leo had to admit, though, that insanity seemed like something it would take a few minutes to reach, so he kept watching, mostly ignoring the Seekers since the action seemed to be with the Chasers until he looked and saw his brother had just taken a swing at his Seeker, which made him bite his lip. It was good for Paul if he did hit Thad, but bad for the team, so which way was Leo supposed to support?
Maybe that was why the game made people crazy, he reflected. It was too complicated. It was also putting a crick in his neck, which did not improve matters much. He watched on, waiting to see what would happen up there next.
0
Leonidas Bennett, Aladren Reserve
Watching. Not crazy.
269
Leonidas Bennett, Aladren Reserve
0
5
<font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>
December 06, 2013 4:07 PM
Generosity is an admirable trait. by <font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>
There were moments, particularly when he found himself playing against the Aladren team, when Linus found himself wondering whether there could be any glory in repetitive determination, even when it ended in perpetual failure. He had been brought up to believe that as long as he was doing his best (and actually doing it, making efforts to ensure his performance could not realistically be any further improved) then that was sufficient, but he had to wonder whether there was a point at which it became redundant to try, and was more dignified to gracefully accept defeat in an area. After all, it was impossible for a person to be adept at everything.For his early life, Linus had relied upon the guidance of his father to assist in the majority of his decision making, whether his conundrums be moral or material. Yet as he’d gotten older, much of his father’s teachings became hazy, or harder to interpret, or less practical in application than Linus would have liked. He knew he had idolised his parents and, for better or worse, he continued to do so, but with a bitter nuance of realism; as an adolescent, he was beginning to understand that it was impossible for his parents to have been right about everything all of the time, and even more so for his Muggle Dad to have given advice specifically tailored to equip his son in traversing the unknown, magical world of witches and wizards.
Yet, try as he may to rationalise his inner monologues, Linus couldn’t help wishing that his father were still alive, still around to dole out advice. The relevance or successful application of the advice were not necessarily the foundations for his desire; in an amateur psycho-reduction of himself, Linus had concluded that merely having a father figure, someone to make proud, or to go to for advice, was more important than he would perhaps openly acknowledge. For example, what would his idol have to say about the seventh year participating in such a violent, unfamiliar sport in the first place, to say nothing at all of their limited success, and lack of improvement even under Linus’ Captaincy. Then, when his mind was on that track, Linus couldn’t prevent it from calling at multiple other stations of insecurity, such as what his Dad might have thought of his grades, of his girlfriend, of his intended career path. There was some things, thankfully, that didn’t cause this unnerving level of anxiety; for example, Linus’ being at Sonora in the first place was undoubtedly to be encouraged, as his father had always advocated being true to oneself, and so denying himself the opportunity to learn magic would have been in direct violation of this creed. Likewise, being nominated Head Boy was unlikely to have caused any upset, given that a position of responsibility and authority as elected by a jury of peers and superiors didn’t have much out of favour no matter which way one looked at it.
Overall, Linus liked to believe that his father would, in fact, be proud of him, at least at this general point in time (this specific point in time would depend on so many other factors that it would make Linus’ head spin to think about it, and this far up in a crowded opening of a Quidditch match, a spinning head was substantially less than desirable). This assertion was drawn from what he could remember of his relationship with his father (he hated to admit that some aspects were gradually becoming a little fuzzy with time; inevitable, perhaps, but regrettable nonetheless), his mother’s occasional sentimental comments made as much for her own benefit as for Linus’, and the Crotalus students’ own sense of his behaviour. In essence, he didn’t think it mattered very much at all what his father thought, considering the man had been dead for eight years - and while he had been brought up with a Christian education, Linus had no lingering belief in the afterlife. Initially, it had been very comforting, naturally… but as the years passed and Linus matured, he came to understand that comfort was the sole foundation in his belief. He had since given up on the idea, but had not bothered to relay this news to the rest of his family. If they still needed to believe, then he wasn’t about to deny them – but, again, logic had no place here. If Linus had no paternal driving force (real or imagined) behind his decision-making, he might have been a different person entirely. He was who he was because of his father, and that, he thought, mattered.
Generally speaking, these philosophical thoughts had no place in the head of a Chaser, but as Linus watched a fluke interception thanks to a random combination of a jumpy, first-year Chasers shying rather unnecessarily from the Quaffle due to a coincidentally well-placed Bludger, and a happily situated opposing Chaser, he heard a familiar, deep voice utter calmly, ‘Faith and hope can be used as weapons on both sides of a battle.’ Linus wasn’t sure what had spurred the memory, and neither was he about to analyse its poignancy as he rapidly turned tail and set off in pursuit of the wayward Quaffle, but he did wonder whether hope could really be employed as a weapon to secure a win for the Rattlesnakes. If nothing else, he supposed he could endeavour to have faith in himself and his team, and, as such, execute successful operation of these assets. So, surging forwards under renewed vigour, Linus explicitly told himself that his team could, in fact, win this game – and easily, for that matter – and a brief glance around the still-crowded central area of the pitch, the Chaser noticed than the opposition certainly held no real advantages. As if knowing this had made it true, Linus found himself ideally placed to just reach his hands forward and prevent the first Aladren pass from successful conclusion, instead landing the Quaffle back in Crotalus possession, and back under Linus’ arm as he dropped a little lower, circling back in the direction from whence he had recently come. The red ball was again heading back in the right direction, towards the Aladren Keeper, but still with the danger of at least one Beater and a Bludger nearby, and still with several Chasers huddled relatively close together. Still, it was an improvement on the same scenario but with a blue clad Chaser holding the ball.
Keen to maintain the minimal lead (and increase it if he could), Linus dared to hold onto the Quaffle perhaps a little longer than he ought, playing heavily on the notions of hope and faith. It was with an unuttered prayer of sorts that he passed the ball towards a teammate, wishing, rather than believing, that his gamble would pay off.
0
<font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>
Generosity is an admirable trait.
0
<font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>
0
5
<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
December 06, 2013 5:16 PM<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Rhy
Age in Post: 13
So, you'll be happy to share by <font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
Francesca was dimly aware of the continued thunking of wooden bats on metal balls but they were all behind her, and not accompanied by the tell-tale whoosh of a Bludger making its way towards her. She checked around her from time to time, as any good player did, but the majority of her focus was on the movements of the scarlet ball.She cheered in her head as she saw Anthony intercept it. She had never thought that he wouldn't sign back up but she was still grateful for that thread of continuity on the Chasing team. She didn't have much to compare it to but she thought they worked well together. Last year hadn't gone half badly, after all. She glanced down the pitch, weighing up leaving her mark in order to give Anthony someone to pass to... She would have to draw level or over take him and there were a lot of Crotali around to make that difficult for her. There was no harm in trying and she took off down the pitch towards them but Linus was, again, quicker.
Francesca turned, determined to keep on the same Crotalus Chaser as before but veering wide. She couldn't be obviously marking her mark or Linus would have no reason to pass to them. She kept level, keeping on their tail whilst trying to keep to Linus' blindspot. It was hard. He was taking his time, which increased her risk of being seen but also gave her time to refine her position. She stayed under the other Chaser, mirroring their movements as best she could, trying to predict what Linus would do... She had to wait until he had checked the space and found it empty and get in there once he had gone past the point of no return but before the pass was complete. It was tight. But she was small and had gone for agility above all else in her choice of broom.
As he sprung, so did she, driving herself forward as the ball left his arms and neatly snatching it out of the air. She continued on her trajectory, allowing the inertia to carry her forward and drawing herself upwards at the same time in an effort to escape the Crotali. She arched over where the pass had taken place, speeding back towards the other end of the pitch, away from her brother and thus doing her job in keeping him safe.
She wanted to get away from a concentration of Crotali, and also keep the ball far away from the Aladren goal. If she made a pass down at their end, and it was intercepted, the opposition had only the shortest way to go before they could make an attempt on goal. She flew hard and fast, the blur of the central line passing her before she glanced around for another ripple of blue and sent the ball flying over her shoulder and back towards it.
13
<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
So, you'll be happy to share
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<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
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5
<font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
December 06, 2013 8:02 PM
Sulking in dirt would be rather odd. by <font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
There were stages in the waiting period between the moment Cepheus lost sight of the Snitch and the moment it reappeared. The first stage Cepheus sat scanning the pitch fervently for a glint of gold. But once that stage passed, he made laps around the pitch with his eyes narrowed to focus on his target. Then he flew high above the fray to see if he could spot it from up there. But the stage after that came his idle thoughts, thoughts that helped him pass the time. They were mostly visions of him holding a trophy with his name etched on it. When he played, he played to win no matter what the game was. Quidditch itself was active and Cepheus enjoyed flying, but it wasn't a sport he would play actively after graduation. A pick-up match here and there, sure, perhaps on the summers he went to see his mates, but nothing more.Stage one had passed and Cepheus prepared to make his rounds. Paul had followed him and Ceph was glad to see that. If he'd heard right over the noises of the rushing brooms, a bludger had been knocked in his opponent's direction as well. Cepheus hoped it knocked Thad off his broom, but not in a life-threatening way. Alicia would kill him if she knew he was having such thoughts about her significant other, but she didn't have to know.
The two rounds were fruitless and the harsh flying had loosened his hair from his place. He brushed it back as he rose on his broom for the third stage. Perhaps he would be more susceptible to bludgers here, but as long as Paul proved faithful, Cepheus had nothing to worry about. Unless Paul was afraid of heights.
As he sat growing chilly up so high, Cepheus scanned the pitch, his eyes looking once at his brother to see how he was doing. As irritating as Leo was, he still cared about him to an extent. Leo had briefly spoken to him for the first time in eleven months and Cepheus had been impressed and disgusted by Leo's dedication to ignoring him for so long. Leo's annoyance had come about as a result of the Quaffle smashing into his face last year and Cepheus could hardly blame him after nearly signing his name for him on the signup sheet the year before. This year it wasn't his fault and Leo seemed to have recognised that. What a conceited little twit.
Ceph thought of who else could be in the stands. His eyes continued to scan the pitch instead of turning to the red and blue crowds. His mates had to be there if they were truly his mates. Cepheus could only imagine Alicia's torn loyalties, but that reminded him of Thad and his fingers tightened around his broom again. He took a deep breath to calm himself and thought instead of Theresa. She had to be in the stands as well and Cepheus did not want to lose in front of her again. It was embarrassing having lost once already in front of his girlfriend.
It was getting boring up here and Cepheus decided it was time for a feint. His feints had gotten better over the years and Ceph hoped this one would knock Thad for a loop. And if the Snitch decided to make itself known as he dropped, that would be the perfect time to swoop and snatch it. In an ideal world, of course.
This time, unlike the last where Thad seemed to have no idea that his opponent had caught sight of the real Snitch, Cepheus made it subtly obvious that he'd seen something. His eyes widened, his mouth opened slightly and he leant forward before diving and taking off towards the Aladren hoops. Cepheus made sure to pass Paul on his way and raised his eyebrows. Hopefully Paul would get the message and have a bludger ready in case Thad decided to follow. As he neared the hoops, Cepheus dove again, nearing the ground, then pulling up sharply and went around the pitch, this time searching for the real Snitch. Again there was no sight and Cepheus rose, eyes looking for Thad briefly to see if his strategy had had any effect on the Aladren Seeker.
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<font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
Sulking in dirt would be rather odd.
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<font color=red>Cepheus Princeton, Seeker</font>
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
December 06, 2013 9:55 PM
Yipes! by <font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
Thad realized a bit belatedly that he should have been more concerned with what Paul Bennett was doing than what his own Beaters were doing. Cepheus being open for Aladren bludgers meant Thaddeus was equally open to Crotalus ones, after all. He was not entirely oblivious, of course. He was watching the field for the Snitch, so his eyes were darting around in a comprehensive manner. However, bludgers were not shiny or golden and, in fact, were a little hard to distinguish in the cloudy weather, so it took him a moment to process what he had seen coming toward him.It was a moment he didn't really have for processing, so instinct took over, and, well, the instinct he'd honed over the last several years involving bludgers was to raise a bat he didn't have today.
His brain did notice that absence and managed to get him moving in avoidance, but not fast enough. He got his broom turned around and pushed it forward, ahead of the bludger, so that when the metal ball did hit, they were at least both moving in the same direction, at similar speeds, minimizing the force of the blow as much as possible.
It still hurt.
The bludger smashed into his left shoulder, and the whole arm started hurting. He dove, trying to put distance between himself and a potential ricochet hit. Pulling up again once he was clear sent jangles all the way down to his elbow and he grit his teeth against the pain of it. School games did not last long. The snitch could show itself at any time. He could not go down to the medic yet. Not until it was over.
Checking to make sure he was still safe from both bludgers, he tried flying one-handed to see if that was better, but his scan for bludgers showed him that Cepheus had spotted something.
Muttering a word under his breath that he would have kept to himself if there was any chance of anyone hearing him, he grabbed both hands around the broom and dove after him. His shoulder hurt like the dickens, and he couldn't see what Cepheus was after, but that might have just been because Ceph was closer.
He could not lose this game. Aladren had a reputation for winning, and he did not want to be the weak link in its history of success. He pushed his broom for more speed and blinked away the tears that forming - surely from the wind rushing into his eyes, not the shoulder throbbing - and muttered a different word of equal letter count as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, over toward the stands, the real snitch.
He fought to reverse his momentum, to go for the gold, but his shoulder protested horribly and it took too long and by the time he was facing the right way, the snitch was gone again.
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
Yipes!
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
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5
Sharing is Caring by Andri Thornton, Chaser
Andrina was not going to lie to herself. A part of her wished that she was back on the bench again. Without Kitty there, she just felt off. She'd joined the team mostly to be with her friend and even though she'd spent time on the bench, she'd finally gotten the guts to try for more than just reserve! The year before, Andri played Keeper, and knowing that she'd be needed on the team again, she tried out once more. This time though, this time she was put on the list as a Chaser. Kitty's not here and here I am replacing her? I can't replace her... She's not replaceable! she thought to herself, as she walked onto the pitch the day of the first game.There was more than that which felt wrong to the Aladren though, however. Teppenpaw, her sister and cousins team, was out of the running and Bri was besides herself knowing that the next time her house played, she'd have to Captain it, with no practice. Andri had kindly tried to explain to her that Amira had the same problem on Pecari's team, but Bri didn't want to hear it. Bri was a wreck, and Andri knew that she'd be in the stands watching her, but as weird as it sounded, it made her more sad than glad.
The new Coach called the captains to her and Andri watched them shake hands, but she really didn't see. Her mind was still on the fact that Kitty wasn't going to be there... Ever again. She'd written to her friend, but hadn't heard anything back yet, and that was very worrisome for her.
Before she knew it, the game began. The Chaser didn't see who'd gotten the Quaffle, but she saw Francesca fly off and she followed the younger girl's lead. Andri wasn't in her A game, and she knew it. She just hoped that didn't cost her team the win!
Andri shook her head to bring herself back into the reality of the game and saw a bludger going right for Francesca. Thankfully Jay was right there and Andri sighed with relief as she kept on flying on just as Francesca had.
Anthony intercepted a pass between the Crotalus Chasers and Andri's mind went into overdrive. Thoughts bounced all around in her head and she flew towards both Anthony and Francesca as she saw the other chaser intercept the Quaffle back for their team. Andri cheered inwardly for her teammate and flew faster after her, just in case she needed to pass.
Andri was very sporty, she always had, but right then she felt like a spazz on the broom, as if it didn't fit her or something of the like, and she didn't like that feeling, not one little bit. Francesca moved the ball towards Crotalus' Hoops instead of her brother, as she was supposed to and Andri followed suit.
Suddenly, the red ball was coming at her and her eyes widened like platters as she pulled both of her hands off her broomhandle to catch it, almost falling off her broom in the process. Pulling the Quaffle into her chest with her left hand and putting her right immediately back onto the broom, she righted herself and flew towards Crotalus Hoops. She felt stupid, she felt awkward, BUT she had the ball...
Andri knew that even though she was older and loved sports, she wasn't so good at Chasing, but both Anthony and Francesca were... She glanced around for them as she flew, and when she saw one of her teammates close enough for her to pass, she did so, letting go of the red ball and hoping beyond all hopes that they caught it!
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Andri Thornton, Chaser
Sharing is Caring
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Andri Thornton, Chaser
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5
<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
December 07, 2013 12:35 AM
Hang in there by <font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
Jay did, looking at his target for a second as a person with characteristics beyond a red robe, feel a little bad about hitting a Bludger toward a first year. It wasn’t at all the same thing, since Brandon was second only to Arnold for number of injuries in the family and even more likely than their cousin to just laugh them off, but he couldn’t help but think of the fact he had a brother in first year. He’d gathered from newspaper opinion columns that there was a minor controversy in Quidditch circles about whether first and second years should even be allowed to play with older kids, if at all, though at Sonora, enough of the population was inclined toward spectating that splitting them all up was not doable, making it a moot point.The first year escaped without injury, though, and the Quaffle went back into Aladren hands, at least temporarily. Anthony seemed to be handling himself well, he thought; he hadn’t really doubted that he would, but it was still a relief….
Glancing up toward the Seekers and seeing Paul Bennett closer to his, as the two split up, than he would have liked was not. Was not at all. He started toward that part of the action, but Bennett got there first, proving that Jay had been right not to assume he was a useless idiot and also that it was not always a good thing, even in his House, to be right. He didn’t get there in time to keep Thad from being hit, which meant he was scowling as he intercepted the Bludger and hit it back toward Crotalus, a rare expression for him. As the child between Theresa and Henry, both of whom, for people who really did not handle their emotions very well in general, were very good at expressing a desire to desecrate the graves of people who annoyed them with a look, he usually considered it his responsibility to be pleasant. But not right now.
He glanced at Thad, who did not look exactly on top of the world, but who was still in the air. Well, catching the Snitch was possible as long as the Seeker had one working hand; Arnold liked to relate, when Aunt Lorraine wasn’t around, the story of the time he’d caught the Snitch seconds before passing out. As long as Thad was conscious, they were basically all right, though he seemed to have enough trouble turning that Jay thought he should really do what he could to make sure the captain didn't get hit again. It seemed that, whatever Arnold was or had done, his successor did not enjoy pain and reacted to it like most of the planet.
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<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
Hang in there
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<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
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<font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>
December 07, 2013 1:06 AM
Or don't, it's up to you, really by <font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>
Pierce nearly got away, and Paul could tell before it was even done that the hit was not going to be enough to put the Aladren Seeker out of the game if he was, well, any kind of Aladren, but he succeeded in his goal of inflicting injury on the opposition and was content with that. He had, from his well-worn and much missed spot on the Crotalus bench, seen games come down to a second, or at least it had seemed that way, or seemed that way now in memory; if he succeeded in slowing down Pierce enough that Cepheus was on the right end of that second if it came, then he didn’t see how it was any less of a victory for him than if he’d done enough damage to keep him from being a contender anymore at all.Besides, the game was just plain no fun when one side just beat the other to a pulp; not as bad as when neither team could get an inch, of course, but still. A fair fight where one side came out the superior, or at least the luckier, in a reasonable amount of time made a better show. Not actually doing Pierce lasting harm was also good for Paul in other ways; Beaters who liked the job too much could get a bad reputation in the school, and Pierce was a popular guy, anyway. Whatever happened, happened, but Paul was definitely aiming to just inconvenience him, not actually kill him.
It was, he thought, ironic that he thought he might be more sports-minded than many people who actually enjoyed playing the game in this regard. If someone tried to hit Leo, Paul thought he would be indifferent to that; if his brother had played today, Paul would have tried to hit him himself, if Leo – or Leonidas, as Paul had gathered he was calling himself now; Paul considered that kind of lame, but since they had exchanged about five words since coming back to school, he had never expressed this opinion to his second-to-youngest sibling – had gotten in his way. He didn’t consider it anything personal, but knew other people might have taken it as somehow indicative of his character, which he did not think was very fair. People who rambled on about Quidditch showing who people really were and having anything to do with the real world, outside of the betting and investments, were, in his opinion, kind of delusional.
One of the Careys hit the Bludger back toward them, but Paul was more interested in finding Cepheus than in trying to injure Aladrens at the moment, so he deflected it away from the nearest Crotalus without much strategy, looking for his Seeker and trying to figure out what his strategy was so he could play along with it while still keeping the sixth year safe. That, he thought, might be the hardest part of warding the Seeker, since their plays could be complicated and fast moving and it wasn't like they could exactly have a conversation about it while the Aladrens politely refrained from either listening in, looking for the Snitch themselves, or beating Cepheus to death with Bludgers on the side which would necessarily be left open.
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<font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>
Or don't, it's up to you, really
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<font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
December 07, 2013 6:36 PM
I'll hang in for the win! by <font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
Thaddeus kept heading toward where he'd last seen the Snitch, a wary look was drawn toward Jay as he heard another bat hit a bludger, but his assistant captain was not aiming at him, so he kept going. Another look shot toward Paul moments later, drawn by the same sound, but that bludger wasn't heading toward him either. Putting the thought out of mind, Thad focused once more on finding his primary target.There!
He saw it, still in the general area he'd seen it before. He leaned forward, pushing his broom to its top speed, his shoulder all but forgotten in the thankfully numbing rush of adrenaline. This was it. He just had to reach out . . .
The fingers of his right hand stretched toward the small golden ball. He had no idea where Cepheus was. The Crotalus seeker could have been right next to him and he wouldn't have known it. He only had eyes for that tiny winged ball.
His fingers closed around it. He felt the chilly metal against his skin. He whooped and held it aloft, waving it around and showing his prize to the world.
"We won!" he shouted, uncaring that most of the team was too far away to hear. "We won!"
He directed his broom into a shallow dive, heading down to the ground. When his shoes touched grass, his legs could barely hold him up, shaking as they were with reaction to the win. His hand shook, too, as he held the snitch aloft, but he didn't care.
Aladren had won again. Aladren had won.
A medic visit was definitely in his immediate future, but this moment was for the team. As they flew down, he made sure they could all see the proof that the loss of Arnold Carey not mean that Aladren had lost its edge. In this precise moment, he was really much more aware of his face hurting from grinning so hard than he was of his shoulder anyway.
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
I'll hang in for the win!
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<font color=blue>Captain Pierce, Seeker</font>
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5
Aladren wins! 150 - 0 (nm) by Coach Olivers
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Coach Olivers
Aladren wins! 150 - 0 (nm)
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Coach Olivers
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5