Coach Olivers
November 23, 2013 3:47 AM
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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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'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
November 30, 2013 2:36 PM
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.
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<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
It appears to be...
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<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
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<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.
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<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
Sending something their way
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<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
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<font color="red">Isaac Douglas, Chaser</font>
December 05, 2013 5:12 PM
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.
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<font color="red">Isaac Douglas, Chaser</font>
You could have kept it, really....
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<font color="red">Isaac Douglas, Chaser</font>
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<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.
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<font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>
Jay's a really generous person
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<font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>
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<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.
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<font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>
Generosity is an admirable trait.
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<font color="red">Captain Macaulay, Chaser</font>
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<font color='blue'>Francesca Wolseithcrafte</font>
December 06, 2013 5:16 PM
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.
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<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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Andri Thornton, Chaser
December 07, 2013 12:04 AM
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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