"Coach" Skies

December 24, 2016 1:09 PM
It was seeming to be a regular feature of the year so far that Juliet was sick on match days. It couldn’t be helped, and Selina certainly didn’t feel that she wasn’t fit enough to do her job, just rather unlucky. Or, perhaps given the day’s weather, the opposite… For all that Sonora was in the desert, the founders had longed for the climate of their Irish home. It was a taste that Selina often questioned on days like this. The ground was hard with frost and a light to medium snow was flurrying through the air. She had sent each captain a note that morning. Teams to be dressed appropriately. Warming charms mandatory. Perhaps it was overly interfering. Most matches they managed fine with the weather, taking sensible precautions without her interference, but she felt obliged to check, and would be stopping in the changing rooms in case anyone had trouble with their wand work.

Once everyone was suitably dressed, charmed and assembled, she called the captains forward to shake hands, reminding them of the need for a good clean game. She had played Chaser in her day, and done some occasional refereeing throughout her teaching career, but it felt like a long time. From amongst the staff with the skills to oversee the match, she had chosen drawing lots as the fairest way, and she herself had had the short straw. Her staff were generally kind, she probably could have found a volunteer, but this way seemed fairer, especially given the weather, and she didn’t want anyone to burn out on helpfulness and start to feel they were taken advantage of. That meant leaving it up to fate, and pitching in just as much as anyone else.

She released the Snitch and the Bludgers, and launched off. Wiith a sharp blow on the whistle, the Quaffle was thrown, and the game began…

OOC - Please put your house colour in your title. How to do this, along with other Quidditch rules, can be found here. The match will stay open for exactly two weeks from the day and time of posting.
Subthreads:
13 "Coach" Skies Teppenpaw vs Crotalus 26 "Coach" Skies 1 5


<font color=yellow>Nat Varth</font>

December 26, 2016 2:15 PM
Going home for the holidays had put an already cheerful Teppenpaw that much more full of cheer. Nat was positively radiating from all the good vibes when she got back to Sonora. Seeing her family was great and seeing them all in person to catch up with them had been just the thing. As much as she didn't want the trip to end, coming back to the school she loved was worth it. More so when her team was slotted to play Crotalus in Quidditch. Quidditch trumped nearly everything.

When game day came around she got ready extra early and headed down to the pitch. Wearing her sentimental and lucky apparel, she wrapped her lower face in the scarf of Teppenpaw colors and cast a warming charm over it. When that proved to be insufficient she set to charming all her clothes before taking to the air, warm and hopefully soon limber.

When others started arriving she flew down to greet them, having gotten some of the excess energy that always came on game days out. When it was time to start the match, Liac shook Alistair's hand and the match began.

The quaffle her only concern she raced toward it, ignoring her fellow chasers for the moment in a hurry to get possession. It paid off as she felt the 'ball' in her arms as she reached out for it while it was still in it's upward arc. Clutching it to her chest she took off for the Crotalus hoops, hoping Joe and Gabe would have seen the catch as imminent and have proceeded forward.

OOC: I am so sorry if there are any typos, I'm writing on a German keyboard and I swear the 'z' being in the 'y' spot and having to press shift for an apostrophe is so confusing. I tried my best so hopefully there aren't but if in my next few posts those mistakes are made that's why
7 <font color=yellow>Nat Varth</font> Back in the Saddle Again 331 <font color=yellow>Nat Varth</font> 0 5


<font color='yellow'>Capt. Reinhardt,Beater</font>

December 27, 2016 2:43 PM
Liac arrived on the pitch, early on account of the frost, egger to stretch his muscles and quell his nerves. Despite being captain, he sometimes got a numb body before a game. Although if anyone asked he would undoubtedly say his stiff movements were a result of the frosty air nipping at his limbs. In his head he knew there shouldn't be any reason to have nerves, especially since a few of the games he played over break were accompanied by snow, but for some reason he couldn't help but feel a little... apprehensive.

No, apprehensive isn't right, the sixteen year old thought to himself as he touched his toes, making sure to show the stands of classmates his good side. Not excited, not fearful but something else, he continued, his mind buzzing with words he couldn't even being to spell. However looking around the pitch he felt the Crotali red flags had something to do with it. Alas as his teammates began to assemble, he decided to put the thought to the back of his mind. After all he had a team to lead.

"Okay everyone!" Liac stated, the cold air stinging his lungs as he began to speak in his authoritative voice. "Even though we are the most charming team", Liac began smiling proudly at his own joke, "Prof..er.. Coach Skies wants us to make sure we are dressed and charmed appropriately. So if you haven't already cast your warming spells, please do so now, and that includes the reserves." No use having a frozen popsicle for a reserve. "So today we go against our friends in Crotalus, it should be an interesting game to say the least. Remember although winning would be awesome, at the end of the day we are here to do our best, to improve as a team, and as individual players. In keeping those goals in mind, I want us to go out there and do the best we can for our house, and if nothing else have fun." It was a similar speech as usual, but it was the crux of what it meant to be on the Tepp team. “Anything to add assistant captain?” he asked, looking to Ginger. She would be leading the team soon, and he wanted her input too.

After the team huddle, Liac gave Alister a firm handshake. Although Liac was pretty much over the squabbles of his younger years, he didn't mind the idea of crushing the Crotalus team. Mounting his broom, he prepped for the whistle. Holding his bat, his hand tightened around it at the call of the whistle. The first few minutes of a game were pretty much junk if you were a Beater, since most of Liac’s attention was focused on finding the nearest bludger anyways. He basically had his system down pat by now, since there were only so many places a bludger could fly to from a box on the pitch. Finally he spotted one as it was coming in from an upward angle, not ideal, but still doable. Moving his head toward the action for a moment to make a mental player map, he noticed Nat had the quaffle. Sweet! Shifting his positing he lined up his right arm in a good position and *WHACK* redirected the bludger to the closest Crotali Chaser- hoping to give his Chaser a little breathing room.

It wasn’t a bad shot. In fact it was a pretty good shot, but it wasn’t his personal best either. His arm still felt a little numb from the nerves, apprehension, or whatever other name for the unsettling feeling that had decided to take up residency in his muscles. Shaking it off, he sped forward to follow the action. Who cares about words anyways, he thought to himself as he clenched his bat, eager to make his next shot even better than the last.
10 <font color='yellow'>Capt. Reinhardt,Beater</font> Actions speak louder than words 289 <font color='yellow'>Capt. Reinhardt,Beater</font> 0 5

<font color="red">Simon Mordue, Chaser</font>

December 29, 2016 3:53 PM
I am not going to run away. I am not going to run away. I am not going to run away.

Simon thought this to himself over and over again, chanting it silently in his head like a mantra. Underneath it, though, was a second thought: I want to run away. I want to run away. I want to run away. And also curse Winston for dragging me into this as soon as I learn how.

This last thought was so patently ridiculous that it almost cheered him up. Almost.

The sight of snow falling and an order from the Deputy Headmistress about mandatory warming charms did not help him toward confidence. At least, he tried to reason, the ground was very firm, so he didn’t have to worry about slipping while he was trying to kick off and making a fool of himself falling face-forward into the mud while his broom went away without him. Well, not as much as he would have in mud, anyway. Slipping on ice was a real possibility, but the frost looked more manageable than thick mud. Thick mud sounded like one of those things that could thoroughly destroy his dignified heir act in front of the whole school.

Teppenpaws were supposed to be soft. Their primary trait was supposed to be kindness. Simon did not, however, draw any comfort from that, both because he didn’t think he had any traits that would allow him to readily take advantage of kind people and because the Teppenpaw team just looked very big compared to him and Winston and Sebastien. Their captain practically looked like an adult, and might in fact technically be one. He was also carrying a Beater’s bat rather prominently….

The captains shook hands and Simon mounted his broom and kicked off without any major incidents. A good start, but it could have been better – he or Winston or Daniel could have gotten the Quaffle. Instead, the Teppenpaw girl had it. Simon followed her, flying along one side of her in the hopes that she would only be able to pass the other way and would so have to give one of his teammates an opportunity to intercept. He was pretty sure he himself was not yet ready to try an interception and hoping one of his teammates would prove bolder, or that she would simply prove unfortunate while Simon was getting his head in the game and his everything accustomed to the cold, snowy air.

This did not happen, at least not in a timely manner, or at least not by Simon’s definition of a timely manner. For him to feel that Crotalus had gained an advantage in a timely manner, his team would have had to do so before Simon heard the whistling of a Bludger and realized that it was aimed for him. He decided discretion was the better part of valor and dove to avoid it, hoping it would continue on and hit the girl instead. Not a very gentlemanly sentiment, he knew, but well, the normal rules about how to treat a lady went out the window when that lady was on a Quidditch Pitch.
16 <font color="red">Simon Mordue, Chaser</font> You demonstrate that admirably. 369 <font color="red">Simon Mordue, Chaser</font> 0 5

<font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>

December 29, 2016 4:24 PM
Sometimes you win, sometimes you learn.

Alistair understood that now. He’d done a lot of latter so it was high time he got to do the former. There was no more need for optimism or pessimism, just realism. Because it could happen this time and if his team had the same confidence in their collective ability as he did, then Crotalus had more than just a chance.

Sonora Academy had taught Alistair a whole lot more than the magical academics that it was primarily designed for. It had provided life lessons of many kinds and, as mawkish as it might sound, had been key in the journey to finding himself. Throughout his school years Alistair had been given the invaluable opportunity to open his mind and make his own views and decisions.

There were ups and downs to everything and despite their constant losses, he believed that being captain of the Crotalus Quidditch team (and Teppalus too) was the best thing that had ever happened to him, even if it didn’t always feel that way. Alistair took pride in all he had done for Quidditch at the school. He was in his fifth year as captain and had done well to handle the responsibility from such a young age without any real guidance. Captains were supposed to do many things but their most important duty was to coach the team, to give them direction, and he felt that his fulfilment of such a role gave the team the best opportunity for success. The rest was up to them, and their dedication and effort. It was very easy to see who was committed and who wasn’t as it reflected in their progress. Daniel wasn’t a natural when it came to the sport and had worked hard reach the level he was now at. Shinohara, on the other hand, had always seemed indifferent and had decided to ditch the team this term.

With great talent and devotion so evident, even those who didn’t know Alistair personally were most most likely aware that he was going to go pro when he graduated. Technically it wasn’t a sure thing but the fifth year couldn’t see anything good coming from doubting oneself. Ambition was important, but without the persistence that Alistair had shown time and time again, he would get nowhere. For all his defects, the sixteen-year-old was diligent and knew that reaching such high aspirations was no easy task. Talent alone would never suffice.

Alistair’s favour for the Chaser or Seeker positions had vacillated over the years. In his first year he’d more-or-less opted for the former, on the basis of the excitement and attention that it had to offer. And then he’d stuck with it ever since, for a number of reasons. As part of Teppalus he’d noted the popularity and exclusivity that the one-man position possessed and thus left it be. With the dissolution of said team, he could have made his move but the frustration and envy that he’d felt with Uzume Shinohara in the position was preferable to the greater frustration and envy he would have felt if Crotalus just hadn’t made the numbers.

For the last four years Alistair had been the leading Chaser, as part of the Teppalus team and then for Crotalus. He’d developed well in that position and quite literally given blood, sweat and tears to it. It might have seemed late in the day to be changing positions but the fifth year had in the past been professionally advised that he was more suited to the Seeker position and perhaps he needed to step out of his comfort zone and put that to the test. It was a new challenge and it was exciting.

Alistair hadn’t expected to feel so but the previous night he had felt… nervous. Try as he might, he just couldn’t find another way to describe it. He’d taken a trip out to the Quidditch pitch in the evening, before he turned in early for the night, wrapped up in thick layers against the frosty weather. Just standing there on the pitch, a solitary figure silhouetted in the gloaming, he’d allowed himself to think about everything he’d been trying to ignore of late. And once he’d let himself feel, then he could truly refocus his mind.

Alistair knew that under any circumstances it would have been most unlikely for him to be friends with Liac and Tobi Reinhardt but most of the animosity he felt towards them had dissipated following the Great Teppalus Divide, when he was no longer forced to cooperate with them. Thanks to the silent pejorative of his assistant captain Arne Reinhardt, the Crotalus couldn’t completely avoid having some residual resentment for the Reinhardt family who, it appeared, were inescapable. But this was insignificant in the grand scheme of things and thus his desire to bury the Teppenpaw team was not personal.

Alistair had realised from mulling over the line-ups of the two opposing teams that there were actually very few of the old Teppalus players remaining on both sides. But it had been three years now so there wouldn’t be inside knowledge about training techniques and playing styles. Then again, apparently even when Teppalus had existed, he had come to learn that the belief that he’d ever possessed such knowledge of the former was fallacious.

Ginger Pierce had broken his heart. There was some undeniable accuracy to the statement but it was superficial. Alistair had created his own heartbreak through conjectural expectation. It also appeared that nothing had come of it and it was true that Ginger had never known of his affection - he’d missed and subsequently lost all opportunity now. But however futile and nonsensical his feelings had been, it had all played a part in the shaping of Alistair into the person he’d become. He could regret it for all the trouble it had caused him but it wasn’t worth it. He had of course been so greatly disappointed in how things had turned out, but it occurred to him that it didn’t really matter whether he had misjudged character or grown out of it. Either way he needed to be glad that he’d made the realisation whilst he still had the time to move on and get back on track.

But this was Quidditch and it meant more to him than any girl. He was catching the snitch for himself and for his team, who he wanted to leave the pitch at the end of the match with big grins upon their faces. The fact that it was Jake Manger who was going to lose to him was just a plus.

Alistair was used to early starts but he always made sure to be up promptly on match days. He wanted to completely prepare himself before he was required to prepare his team. He checked the weather first thing and wasn’t altogether surprised the sight that met him. Sonora weather was diverse and not what you’d expect in the desert, and it appeared to like being a nuisance on game days. Alistair received the note about appropriate clothing and charms. He had already considered these things so he thought it a sensible demand. The cold they had to deal with but he hoped the snow flurry would abate before the match actually began, so it wouldn’t obstruct potential views of the snitch.

The fifth year’s mother still kept him stocked up on a special cream that she’d found for his shoulder and Alistair would tell her that she worried too much but he found himself taking the time to apply it as he got dressed in the morning. It didn’t hurt to take extra precautions - even though he was fairly sure that the cream didn’t actually do anything, it could function as a placebo effect at least. It was at this cold time of year that he was more prone to feelings of stiffness around his left shoulder. He was used to passing this off as lingering paranoia, but after his deep reflections the previous night Alistair was keen not to do that old ignore-it-and-it-will-go-away trick that so often came back to bite him.

Making his way the pitch, the Crotalus captain could feel the cold air percolating through his layers and biting his extremities. The first thing he did when his teammates arrived was to inform them of the appropriate clothing and warming charm requirements for the match, uncertain at what point Professor Skies (the stand-in referee) would be coming over to check.

“Winston, Simon, I’ll cast your warming charms,” Alistair told them, not knowing the spellcasting ability of the two first years and not wanting to leave anything up to chance. “Anyone else need a hand?” he offered, just to be sure. He proceeded to set the Crotalus team to their warm up, really emphasizing the importance of it in such temperatures.

Alistair called the team around him, once he felt satisfied with their warm up, for their last-minute peptalk. The captain had made sure to run through his final position plans with the team in their last practice before the match but he wanted to briefly reiterate it now to be sure that everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing. Given the weather, he wanted to keep it as short as possible so they wouldn’t be standing around for too long.

“Évreux, you’re with me today and I’m having Arne with the Chasers,” Alistair informed the French boy. This was switched from the set up he’d chosen for previous matches but a lot had changed about the team this term. During training he didn’t apply such specific positions for his Beaters but given that it was the common style amongst the rest of the houses, it made sense to conform for matches so that the opposing Beaters were marked and players were not left as open targets. He had made sure to tell Arne of his tactical plans before announcing them to the whole team. Arne was the assistant captain after all and seemed to be taking such an interest nowadays that Alistair realised he might actually make it the whole way through the next few years to becoming captain. “We’ve got a new Chaser trio so I think it’s best that we have our more experienced Beater covering them,” he explained. He wasn’t trying to belittle Sébastien’s abilities, but facts were facts and he didn’t have the time of day for anyone who couldn’t handle them.

Alistair turned to his Chasers now. “Even though you have Arne marking you, don’t forget that there will be bludgers flying about and I don’t want any injuries.” He smiled encouragingly, trying to lighten the mood. Although he was serious about this, he was looking at two tiny first years about to play their first match and he wanted them to enjoy it. “Don’t worry about going for the Quaffle at the start, Daniel’s got that covered,” Alistair reminded them. He had more faith in Daniel getting the Quaffle first than either of the first years, although he would have felt far more confident about his Chaser trio if he was still leading it. Daniel worked hard and Alistair was really glad to have such a dedicated player, who had also become an unexpected friend over the years, but he lacked the passion and natural talent that the Teppenpaw Chasers seemed to possess. He knew after watching them play last year that they should not be underestimated.

“So avoid that initial scrimmage and just find yourselves space to receive Dan’s pass. He’s going to give you two direction,” Alistair gave Dan a quick nod. They had eaten breakfast together that morning and he’d given the new lead Chaser a full peptalk then, because he knew that would instill Dan with more confidence than a few rushed words now. “Winston, remember that you’re backing him up so keep ahead, ready for a forward pass. Simon, you're going to play defense so get ready to intercept if the Teppenpaws come our way. If Dan gets the Quaffle, you want to push up with him too though. The Tepp Chasers play well together so you guys just need to get in between them as much as you can.”

Alistair looked specifically at Winston and Simon. “Boys, this is your first match. I’m already proud of you for making it through training - I know I’ve pushed you hard but you’ll see it’s all worth it,” Alistair told them. “Give Dan or Arne a shout if you don’t know where to be, or can’t see where to throw to. Remember, no panic passes. But most importantly, don’t forget to have fun up there. I’m not going to kill you if the Tepps score a goal.” Ideally he wanted them to score loads of goals and run circles around the Teppenpaws, but that was unrealistic and the last thing the Crotalus captain wanted to do was have his two newest players disappointed by the match. Quidditch was such an enjoyable game and he hoped they would love it just as much as he did (ignoring the whole Rupert Princeton Incident in his first match).

“Same goes for you, Makenzie,” Alistair turned to her with a smile, still trying to keep things light. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to her since she now had her own support group and all he could give her was further support at this point. She knew what to do. “You’ve got this. It’s absolutely freezing today so the most important thing is to stay warm. Cold hands aren’t going to function well, you know that.”

“Alright team,” Alistair concluded. “Let’s get up there and show Teppenpaw what we’re made of.”

As the team dispersed to get in position, Alistair quickly reminded Arne to look out for Winston and Simon, not only in regard to bludgers but also for tactical advice if they didn’t seem to know where they should be.

It hadn’t escaped his notice that Winston in particular was looking nervous and, in case his peptalk had had no effect in smoothing such apprehension, he put a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder before he had to go and shake hands. “It’s normal to be nervous,” he assured the first year. “Just don’t overthink things and do the best you can - you’ll be great.”

There was nothing more he could say to his teammates now as he walked over to Professor Skies and shook hands with Liac. It was strange, given how they’d been co-captains in the past, and he couldn’t help but remember the old rivalry between them. And then it was time for Alistair to mount his broom and for him to prove himself to any doubters out there.

Despite his team’s record, Alistair Johnson was a winner and it was with that assertion that he rose into the air. There was no Quaffle to chase this time around but he shot up into the sky regardless, wanting to gain some altitude and get above the Chaser scrap for a better view.


OOC: Mentions of Winston Pierce as stated by his author.
8 <font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font> I can back it up. 306 <font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font> 0 5

<font color="yellow">Joseph Umland, Chaser</font>

December 29, 2016 6:56 PM
Teppenpaw was somehow, due to the peculiarities of magical and, Joe supposed, mansion architecture, far from any natural windows, but somehow, Joe had known it was going to be cold outside from the moment he’d woken up. He even shivered a few times after he reluctantly pushed away his blankets and started fumbling his way into his clothes, thanking the heavens that he had laid his clothes out the night before. He didn’t always remember to do so, but had done so the night before the Crotalus game and it paid off as he yanked a sweater over his head and was instantly relieved by the warmth of it. He didn’t know if he would wear the sweater to the game underneath his Quidditch robes, that depended on how thorough a job his morning tea did of warming him up, but right now, he could not face the thought of going downstairs without it.

John was one of the very few other people already in the Cascade Hall when Joe entered it, clearly suffering, as Joe did, from the effects of having spent far too many mornings of his life walking with his mother and three or four siblings to church at this hour. Since Sonora was not a religious school, though, and going to church at all for the major occasions was a massive headache to arrange and happened seldom, they just frequently had tea and toast together before most of the school arrived and Joe departed to have a proper breakfast with his House, which usually gave far better conversation in the morning. John was capable of coherent verbalizations after two cups, but resented any efforts anyone made to make him demonstrate this capability before he finished the pot, so these first breakfasts were usually quiet. This morning, though, John actually looked up when Joe joined him at the Aladren table.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

“Ready for th’game?”

“I reckon,” said Joe.

“You should be okay. Their Chasers….” John held his hand up about an inch from the top of the table. Joe nodded, refraining from pointing out that last year, one of those Chasers, along with one of the Crotalus Beaters, had been his own classmates. “And your Seeker, a lot older than theirs. Good guy.”

Joe thought about it and decided this last judgment must refer to Jake. John had abruptly commented one other morning that Jake was “smarter than I thought”, plus Jake had generously lent Clark a broom before midterm, something John presumably approved of. “Yeah,” he said.

He joined the rest of the team at the Teppenpaw table after he finished his tea and more of them arrived, now more in the mood for a protein-rich breakfast that would help him outfly the Crotalus Chasers. By the time he had ingested a substantial amount of it, he was feeling almost cheerful, if still kind of wishing he was bundled up beneath blankets instead of preparing to go out in the snow. It was lighter snow than plenty he had walked through in his life, for sure, and high heat was worse, as cold did at least sometimes allow for fun snowball fights and pouring syrup on the snow to make candy, but Joe just did not particularly enjoy the cold and Sonora’s tendency toward more temperate weather had done nothing to help correct this preference. Contrary to what John had been known to suggest Americans John didn’t happen to like believed, Canadians were not Father Christmas’ elves and so did not routinely happily frolic around at the North Pole in nothing but flannel shorts.

Professor Skies said nothing to explicitly confirm agreement with his belief that they should get this over with as quickly as possible, but she didn’t drag out the formalities, either. It was only a minute of testing the frost under his feet to make sure he didn’t slip before Joe was able to kick off and join in the scramble for the Quaffle. Nat got to it first, which meant Joe just had to play defense for now, sticking to her so she could pass and the Crotali could not crowd her or cut her off, as one of them seemed inclined to at least try to do. Liac drove him off, though, as Nat flew on, and so all Joe had to do was speed up to make sure the now-stray Bludger didn’t hit him before it was once again brought under the control of a Beater, hopefully one in a yellow robe.
16 <font color="yellow">Joseph Umland, Chaser</font> Liac is good like that. 329 <font color="yellow">Joseph Umland, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color='yellow'>Tobi Reinhardt, Beater</font>

December 29, 2016 9:56 PM
Tobi had never been one for competition. He thought it had it’s place in life—after all, things had to compete to survive and if nothing competed then the delicate balance of the ecosystem would be upset and then where would they all be? But he personally never found much joy in beating others. Perhaps that was why he had only joined Quidditch in order to support his cousin, Liac, who had wanted to play. He had been a beater for the Teppalus team, something he would always be grateful for since he had liked the inter-house support it created and he was now a beater for Teppenpaw. He was still proud to wear Teppenpaw yellow—after all, what better traits were there than cooperation and kindness?, but it didn’t mean the same thing.

As he walked up to the Pitch with Liac, he smiled to himself, thinking about past matches against the Crotalus team shortly after splitting. It was no secret that he and Liac did not get along well with the Crotalus Captain, and although Arne cooperated with Alistair Johnson because of House and team loyalty, Tobi knew his younger brother found the other boy to be full of himself. But he had been close with other members of the team—working with Crotalus on that team together at the beginning had drawn him close to Uzume Shinohara, someone who he didn’t think he’d normally have gotten along with, them being just so different from each other. But through her pranks and sarcastic attitude he could see she did have a heart and for that he liked her. He could still remember when he had to face off her that first time, back in the days when her presence had made his stomach flip.

This crush had faded into friendship, and he had a new source of butterflies—funnily enough in yet another female, Crotalus player. Yet Makenzie Newell and Shino could not be farther apart. Shino had this brash, tough way about her. Tobi never had to worry about her, he just did because they were friends, but he knew she could take care of herself. Makenzie, he felt, tried to portray the same image but for some reason with her, he just didn’t buy it. They were both from the society pureblood cloth—one from Michigan and the other Japan, but they were not the same at all. If Shino was a brightly colored silk, woven from strong silkworms, Makenzie was cashmere, soft and unassuming. The differences between the two were astounding but he couldn’t help it if Makenzie with her bright red hair was now the one to make his tanned cheeks flush.

He looked across the way at her, getting ready with Crotalus team, and thought about winter break. They had really only just solidified their friendship that fall, but she had already spent the winter holidays in their tiny family cabin, magically enlarged at this point to a teetering four story wood house on the edge of their small town, a house which only Laila Kennedy had ever visited before. It was weird having her there, he had moved back in with Arne for the break, letting Makenzie have the alcove he’d taken over as his own after the expansion. But everyone seemed to like her—even Matti who Tobi knew could be difficult hadn’t had anything horrible to say to Tobi when they’d said their last goodbyes and he grinned to himself, glad that they had all gotten along.

Lost in thought, he nearly missed the start of Liac’s captain speech, but he tuned back in time to catch it. What kind of best friend and number one fan would he have been if he didn’t pay attention to Liac when he was talking? A rotten one, that’s who. He had always liked listening to Liac’s speeches over Alistairs when they were Teppalus. Alistair had always just kind of assumed authority and Liac was too nice to butt heads over it, but Tobi found Alistair’s approach to the game rather off-putting. Liac was there to have fun, Alistair was there to win. Tobi was there because he loved Liac.

After Professor Skies blew the whistle, Tobi scanned the air for bludgers, making sure to keep an eye out for his younger teammates. He and Liac worked so seamlessly together there had never been any need to assign each other specific roles. When Alistair had done it neither had really listened, they had just worked together, using their cousinly telepathy to be there when the other one couldn’t, to do double-plays and to support each other. Their telepathy still worked, and Tobi hung back so that Liac could aim a bludger towards a Crotalus Chaser, waiting to make sure Liac could catch the rebound if a Crotalus Beater got there in time.

A whizzing by his ear caught his attention, and he turned his gaze away to see the other Bludger, he rather thought if he sped up just right he might be able to angle it away from the players in yellow and hopefully towards and unsuspecting Crotalus. He moved towards it, preparing himself for the swing, lining up so that the Bludger would fly into his bat and he could use the Bludger’s own force to redirect towards the opposing team. It was something he had worked on for awhile, something he needed to hit just right or he would throw out his entire arm. He winced even before he made contact with the Bludger. A split second too late. He would probably be fine—it wasn’t anything too serious to worry about just yet, but he hadn’t hit the Bludger with his bat’s sweet spot and he had thrown himself just a little too much into that hit.

The bludger sped towards a second Crotalus Chaser, and Tobi congratulated himself for at least having gotten the direction right. Now, he’d just have to massage his shoulder for a few seconds and hope a Crotalus Beater didn’t intervene in the time it got him to feeling like everything was in it’s proper socket.
10 <font color='yellow'>Tobi Reinhardt, Beater</font> Liac for president. 289 <font color='yellow'>Tobi Reinhardt, Beater</font> 0 5

<font color=red>Winston Pierce, Chaser</font>

December 30, 2016 10:06 AM
Winston was oddly nervous. He knew Teppenpaw was the least frightening of the teams they might have had to go up against for his first match but that almost made it worse. What if they lost to Teppenpaw? What would that mean for Crotalus?

Jake Manger had been doing his Seeking thing longer than Alistair had, by what Winston could gather. Winston, of course, had utmost faith in his own captain, though, so that was Alistair's worry not his. But even assuming the snitch went their way, Teppenpaw's chasers were all third years, while only one of Crotalus' was; Winston and Simon were both only first years. Two years wasn't a huge difference in the grand scheme of things, but they were pretty critical when it was the difference between two years experience and none.

All of a sudden, half a year of practices and some Quaffle tossing with Uncle Duesius no longer felt like sufficient prerequisites for what he was about to embark upon. Unfortunately, Crotalus had no reserves so even though he genuinely felt ill, sitting the match out was not an option. He might do horribly as a Chaser out there in a real match, but not playing meant his House would need to forfeit and then it really would be his fault they lost. That was not happening.

So he put on his bravest face and went out to the pitch, his new top-of-the-line broomstick, barely broken in after receiving it as a gift for Christmas, perched jauntily over his shoulder to show just how not nervous he was. It only teetered a little bit as his hands shook, but he was counting on that being mistaken for cold. It was definitely chilly, possibly even approaching cold, even to a New Hampshire mountain dweller, but it had to hit negative double digits Fahrenheit before he considered it frigid enough to excuse visible shaking while wearing heavy winter clothing beneath his Quidditch robes as well as a sensible hat and gloves (the kind with treads so he could actually grip the Quaffle while wearing them).

Unfortunately, the shaking didn't lessen much even after Captain Johnson gave him a warming charm, so there went that excuse. He tried to steady himself and look determined rather than terrified, but it probably didn't work given that Alistair seemed to feel the need to assign the stronger beater to them, advise against panic passes, and clarify that he wouldn't kill them if Teppenpaw scored. It was less than reassuring.

Obviously, he wouldn't kill them. If he killed them he wouldn't have enough players for the next game. There were worse things than death. It was those that Winston feared if Teppenpaw completely dominated the Quaffle as he was fearing they might. And he noted there had been no assurances about what wouldn't happen if Crotalus didn't score at all.

He shifted from foot to foot, hoping that moving on purpose would reduce the amount of involuntary motion his excess of adrenaline was causing. It did seem to help a little, but it apparently also drew attention because Captain Johnson seemed to think it necessary to tell it was okay to be nervous.

Well, that was good at least, since Johnson had clearly sniffed out the weakness he'd been working so hard to hide from him. Winston nodded, deciding further prevarication was counterproductive, and just hoped his voice didn't squeak as his said, "I'll try my best, captain." It did squeak, but only a little, and maybe he'd just think Winston was starting to have his voice mature?

Not entirely consoled, but determined to prove himself anyway, and glad of clear instructions for what to do immediately following the whistle, Winston mounted his broom and was ready to go as Skies started them off.

He launched into the air flawlessly, as flying was the one Quidditch skill he was confident about. Plus, the first shrill note of the whistle was like a release, allowed him to finally give in to his need for fight or flight. Flight was the obvious literal choice today, and he moved out toward Ginger Pierce, getting ready for a pass from Daniel. He looked back to try to judge where Crotalus' lead chaser might need him to be.

No such luck. Teppenpaw had the ball.

He turned around and started back, eyes widening as he saw Simon already evading a bludger. He directed his broom in his roommate's direction, harboring some vague idea of helping or maybe covering his position while Simon was distracted.

Before he got there though, the non-captain Teppenpaw Reinhardt was whacking the bludger that just missed Simon at him!

Winston let out a manly yelp and turned his broom around again, bravely running away from this new threat and hoping his own Reinhardt did something about his relatives soon.

And maybe, with a bit a luck, he and Simon would have kept the bludgers busy enough that Daniel could get in and snatch the Quaffle undisturbed once Natalie passes it.
1 <font color=red>Winston Pierce, Chaser</font> Picking on the little guys. Not very Teppish of you. 370 <font color=red>Winston Pierce, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color= 'yellow'>Nat Varth, Chaser </font>

December 30, 2016 11:53 AM
As Nat heard a crack and the familiar whir of a bludger getting too close to comfort the quaffle seemed heavier in her hands. She needed to pass, just as soon as she got a little farther. Another crack of a beater’s bat and she looked around for her fellow chasers. There was Joe, ready and waiting and perfectly lined up at her side. The chaser that had been crowding her, who she couldn’t tell as she had only seen red, was gone. Passing the quaffle now would be easy.

With a practiced pass, Nat was able to send the ball towards Joe. Although it wasn’t time to get a good look at the field, she took account of one of the bludgers position. Deeming she and Joe were in no immediate danger, she focused once again on him, and the quaffle. The Crotalus hoops were far away though they were getting closer with every second. Her pass to Joe was just about to meet with him. If nothing untowards happened, she and Joe should be able to get the quaffle farther into Crotalus territory. Despite her wind stung cheeks, her scarf concealed a grin. She could feel the adrenaline rush warming her alongside the warming charms. Keeping close to Joe, the game charged on.
7 <font color= 'yellow'>Nat Varth, Chaser </font> Beaters do have the toughest job 331 <font color= 'yellow'>Nat Varth, Chaser </font> 0 5

<font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font>

December 30, 2016 1:22 PM
Yet again, Sébastien Évreux had made the potential mistake of signing up to play Quidditch. However, his initial concerns of being passed over had proved unfounded, and once again he could say he was crucial to the success of the Crotalus Quidditch team. It was, after all, true, even if not quite in the way one might assume.

Sébastien Évreux was talented at some things. He could charm with the best of them, he could lie, he’d been reliably informed he had a very good poker face, and he could be rather tactical when he actually applied thought to a situation. But he wasn’t very good at Quidditch. Oh, he would never admit it - surely his position on a Quidditch team was proof to the contrary? - and it wasn’t as if he was absolutely terrible. His hand-eye coordination wasn’t the most impressive, though, and if he was being quite honest (not a preferred pastime) it was only his years of experience with flying that kept him from looking like a complete nincompoop.

Still, Alistair Johnson was a good captain, and the hours of skilled training meant that Bastien could perform with reasonable adequacy. He hit the Bludger more times than not, and was even vaguely muscular due to the older boy’s insane ideas of practice. It was awful. If it wasn’t for his pride, he’d have quit the team long before now. He hadn’t intended to sign up for a training regime, especially one that involved tests. Why did he need to do tests for Quidditch? He had enough of that in class! If it wasn’t for his fear of being looked down as not man enough to cope, he’d have fled at the first mention of tests.

This year, Sébastien had been ‘promoted’ to the rank of Seeker Beater. Johnson might say that his decision was due to Reinhardt’s greater experience, but Sébastien still took it as a vote of confidence. To put it bluntly, the seeker was the most important player (or so Sébastien perceived it), and their seeker was also their captain. Johnson couldn’t think too badly of him if the captain was happy to be protected by Sébastien.

The weather was not fair for their match, which did not help put Sébastien in a good mood. He much preferred light exercise and glory to what promised to be a potentially tough match in grim conditions. Why couldn’t Quidditch be an indoor sport? He ignored Alistair’s option of help with the warming charm, confident in his own abilities to cast it himself. He wasn’t an incompetent first year. Talking of which, it was quite nice to no longer be the new kid to the team. Hopefully the two younger boys would look up to him as a decent, experienced player. He quite liked that idea, and made sure to send them a reassuring smile before the match, with the intention of further cementing his position as some sort of role model or mentor. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t actually given them help in training; they should still recognise his superiority and be suitably awe-stricken. After all, he would be captain before them.

Pushing up off the ground a beat after Alistair Johnson, Sébastien followed his captain into the air and above the melee that was the chaser pit. Casting an eye around for the bludgers, he was rather affronted to see that both were involved in chaser hunting. What was the point of being a seeker beater if the Teppenpaws didn’t acknowledge his position? He always knew that house was fundamentally flawed.

Flying down low, Sébastien left Alistair's side to get himself some bludger action. One of the Reinhardts (it was too much unnecessary effort to tell them apart) had just aimed one at a Crotalus chaser, and that was not on. Glad that he had been used to flying since a young age, Bastien swooped in just after Winston’s squeak (which gave him some mid-game entertainment) and redirected it with a reasonably strong hit towards the Teppenpaw seeker. Take that, Teppenpaws! They’d soon learn not to leave their seeker unprotected when Sébastien Évreux was on the prowl!
9 <font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font> Who wants to be Teppish, anyway? (Watch out, seeker!) 350 <font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font> 0 5

<font color="red">Makenzie Newell, Keeper</font>

January 02, 2017 6:55 PM
It was odd to wake up for a Quidditch match and not have silky black hair presented to her for braiding. Shino’s decision not to play Quidditch this year had thrown Makenzie for a loop - admittedly, she was a bit disappointed by it. She had always been closer to Araceli, her very best friend, but it was nice having something to share with their other roommate. Plus her quitting left Makenzie as the only girl on the team, which was more than a little bit intimidating.

So she got up, got dressed, and had only her own hair to braid, condensing waves of fire into a single whip. Makenzie glanced at her reflection, always a bit startled by how she looked with her hair up and in her uniform, like a Real Athlete, and paused there for a moment. She had friends on the other side now, with Tobi and Ginger competing for Teppenpaw, and although she was grateful they were not positions that would directly interact with her, it felt odd to route for different outcomes.

She allowed herself a substantial breakfast before heading to the Pitch, pleased with herself for the rare decision of coffee that now kept her insides a little bit warmer against today’s harsh cold. Warming charms helped, as did their warm-up exercises, but the sixth year still expected to be cold as she sat mostly idle in front of the hoops. Alistair reiterated the fact, reminding her to keep her hands warm. His apparent confidence in her went a long way to helping her try to find confidence in herself: maybe she did have this.

For the sake of competition, she didn’t dare wave to her Teppenpaw friends, although she couldn’t suppress a genuine smile in Tobi’s direction. She let it spread to Ginger, too. But Professor Skies was serious about getting down to business, and immediately they were in the air.

The Teppenpaws got the Quaffle first. Their girl Chaser was charging hard down in Makenzie’s direction, holding onto the ball way longer than she expected. Bludgers whizzed by, aimed mostly at Crotalus players, and she wondered where Arne was and if he’d get there soon. But, she supposed, that wasn’t her duty or her problem. Makenzie for now just looped between the rings, trying to keep herself warm as she alternated which hand held onto the broom so the other could hide in her robes. The girl Chaser passed, and Makenzie held her breath, grey eyes glued to the Quaffle.
12 <font color="red">Makenzie Newell, Keeper</font> I'd say we're all working pretty hard. 291 <font color="red">Makenzie Newell, Keeper</font> 0 5

<font color="yellow">Joe Umland, Chaser</font>

January 03, 2017 4:55 PM
There had been a small Crotalus (Joe didn’t know which was which) doing something that looked like trying to interfere with Nat’s ability to pass, but then there was the crack of a bat and the Crotalus disappeared. Joe doubted he had been hit – there would have probably been more noise if that had happened – but he was out of the way. Smart of him; there were times when getting hurt was worth it, but the first five minutes of the game was never one of them.

Joe tried to remind himself not to count Crotalus out as casually as his brother had seemed inclined to at breakfast. He and Gabe and Nat hadn’t done a fantastic job their first game, but nor had they completely and utterly failed at everything they tried. There was also an alarming number of Bludgers in the vicinity – both of them, if Joe was not mistaken. He did not want to get hit, crash into one of his team’s own Beaters, or anything like that. However, the Crotalus Beater (maybe worried about the same thing) whacked one of them off toward the Seekers, and Joe was able to line up with Nat and give her an option for passing. Just because the Crotali had been driven off didn’t mean they were going to stay away, and he did not want to lose the ball in a pass to a first year. That was irrational of him – first years’ smaller size could be a benefit for that kind of thing, especially if the firstie in question was a pureblood who’d been plopped on a broom as soon as he could walk and so had some skills – but, well, there were presumably reasons he wasn’t in Aladren, even if he did often think himself far more logical than John….

Nat passed the Quaffle and Joe, to his relief, just barely felt the Quaffle smack into his hands through his gloves. That was another disadvantage to playing in cold weather – his hands weren’t nearly as mobile as usual, but if he’d left them uncovered, he would have probably quickly lost all feeling in them and been even worse off after the first few minutes. Getting a better grip on the ball, he dove down and then rose again quickly in the hopes of avoiding any more moves any of the Crotali might have in mind for the awkward moment right after a pass and flew on further into Crotalus territory.

He began considering how to pass. He didn’t want to make any downward passes because those seemed the kind the Crotali were most likely to be able to intercept. Finally, he feinted to the left, leaning away from one teammate and toward the other, before turning quickly and passing back toward the right-hand teammate. Hopefully, the newbies, at least, would be so busy looking for the ball that they wouldn’t see what had happened until the Quaffle was already secure, though Joe was already looking for them because of the chance they had seen through the maneuver. It was not the world’s most complex maneuver and he was determined not to completely underestimate them. It would be nine different kinds of humiliating to get trounced by a first year simply out of arrogance.
16 <font color="yellow">Joe Umland, Chaser</font> I will agree with you on that. 329 <font color="yellow">Joe Umland, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color=yellow>Ginger Pierce</font>

January 04, 2017 1:49 PM
Ginger was glad the worst of the fallout over her Keeper get togethers had largely passed. She suspected Alistair still wasn't entirely pleased about it, but they had largely made up after the initial incident. He did still seemed a bit more standoffish than he had before, and she feared that damage may not be fixable. She had grown to enjoy playing Quidditch, but she would never hold it as a passion as he did, and now that he was no longer under the illusion that she did, their amount of common ground had shrunken considerably.

On the plus side, she had made friends with Lena and Makenzie, as she had hoped, which was quite nice even if she had figured out they could never replace Liliana. Still, she valued the time the three of them spend together, just them girls, as none of her other female friends had much interest in talking about Quidditch and she normally had more interesting things to discuss and do with Jake.

So on this bitter cold January, the California Girl's greatest concern was how she was going to make it through the match without turning into a Popsicle, even with the help of warming charms and her heaviest clothing. She had bundled up in so many layers of thermals, underclothes, normal clothes, outer clothes, a jacket, and finally her Quidditch robes that she was having trouble letting her arms fall against her sides and she had a slight waddle to her walk.

"I'm from Southern California," she explained defensively whenever she felt someone was looking at her oddly as she walked through the halls on her way outside. She had been wearing shorts over midterm, one mile north of the Mexican border. This was horrendous weather to come back to, and worse to play in.

At least there was snow. That rare treat was its only redeeming feature. It looked so pretty, it was a shame it always had to be accompanied by deadly cold.

She cast her warming charms on herself and headed out to meet the rest of her team on the pitch. She bounced in place trying not to be to noticeable about it and draw attention away from Liac, but when he opened the floor to her she just nodded and said, "Good luck everybody. Just try to stay warm by exerting yourself and ideally keep that Quaffle away from me, because I'm wearing a bajillion layers and can't move," she smiled at the Chasers to show she was (mostly) joking, and concluded with a cheer, and a motivational jumping jack (partly to warm herself up and partly to prove she could actually move in her current attire if she had to), "Go Teppenpaw!"

She smiled at Alistair and Makenzie on the other team, silently wishing them personal luck if not game winning or Jake-hitting luck, then got her broom (which she mostly thought of as hers and not Jake's old one now) ready for takeoff. The whistle blew and she kicked off, heading over to her goals. Glancing behind her, she saw Nat had the ball and was taking it the other way, she she didn't rush the flight, as going too fast made her face burn from cold.

When she did reach her position and check progress again, it looked like Joe was taking the ball closer still to Makenzie. Knowing nobody could hear her did not stop Ginger from cheering on her teammates with both encouraging shouts and some broom riding dance moves that she hoped would keep her blood pumping enough that it wouldn't freeze solid.
1 <font color=yellow>Ginger Pierce</font> I'm not doing much yet, honestly. 302 <font color=yellow>Ginger Pierce</font> 0 5

<font color="yellow">Jake Manger, Seeker</font>

January 06, 2017 12:29 AM
“Welp, this is it,” Jake told his reflection in his bathroom mirror. “Your last game Maybe. Probably.” He gave a noncommittal squint and shrug to the idea. “It doesn’t have to be. Now, you’ve never caught the Snitch in a game before - like, literally ever - but I’m sure Ginger and the rest of your team would really like it if you did because then you get to go play in the Finals. So that’s what you’re gonna do today. Yeah.” His mouth crooked sideways, unconvinced by his own words, which was a little bit frustrating. He popped his toothbrush in and swirled it around.

After finishing at the sink - dental hygiene, very important - he pulled on his Quidditch robes and headed down for breakfast. Nothing too fancy, and opting for a little less syrup than usual, not wanting to get his uniform all sticky and gross before the big game. That just simply wouldn’t do.

From the Cascade Hall, his next destination was the Quidditch Pitch itself. The cold shot through him immediately, so he turned his wand on himself and cast a warming charm. It didn’t completely save him from the cold, but it definitely helped. And of course, for a combinations of reasons that included being the oldest on the team, being nice, and being Head Boy, Jake was certain to check on all his younger teammates and make sure they all got their warming spells done and done right. No use getting sick and being miserable over a game.

The pregame stuff tended to blur together, so really, the next thing Jake knew, he was launching himself into the air. Last time, his strategy had basically been to hang out with the other team’s Seeker and go from there, but that hadn’t worked out, because Jamie had still got the Snitch anyway (and had also said some not nice things to him). So this time, Jake was playing lone wolf, heading in the opposite direction down the Pitch as Alistair Johnson.

But all alone in the skies, he had the chance to do a lot of thinking, and for a solid amount of time, he found himself not even really looking for a small golden object. He glanced over to the Teppenpaw rings a lot, to Ginger. Something about their conversation at the returning feast hadn’t sat well. He had learned that he probably couldn’t marry her based on what his family would want, and that was frustrating, but he had also learned that even if he had asked, she would have probably said no because her family was matriarchal and she had to stay a Pierce forever. Jake didn’t like that. He still felt like such a kid, way too young to think about getting married anytime soon, but he didn’t like that he and his girlfriend apparently had an expiration date. Ten years. That was the maximum they could foresee. The best case scenario.

A particularly cold wind nibbled at his fingertips, and the sting brought him back to reality. Mope and stress later. Play Quidditch now. Jake accelerated on his broom (another new one, this year’s latest model, sent by his father) in the direction his heart told him to go.

The fact that it was toward the Teppenpaw rings escaped his conscious notice.

As he turned to check his blind spot, he noticed a ball coming his direction, but it wasn’t the small, nice one that he wanted. It was the big, mean, angry, painful one that he didn’t like. “Agh!” he cried involuntarily, pulling up hard on his broom to avoid it. He managed not to get hit, but he did look around to find his Seekers. Who was supposed to be protecting him, again? Meh. Whatever. He just had to resume his Snitch hunt.
12 <font color="yellow">Jake Manger, Seeker</font> Watching out! 280 <font color="yellow">Jake Manger, Seeker</font> 0 5

<font color=yellow>Jozua Sparks, Chaser</font>

January 06, 2017 3:03 PM
It had happened again. Fortunately, this time, Liac was perfectly healthy and Jozua would not be required to handle a bat in the Captain's place, but he was taking over for one of the chasers who were all so closely knit it was kind of intimidating to be placed suddenly in their midst. Gabe was badly ill and with him being as keen on Quidditch as he was, Jozua assumed he was either on death's door or he had an elf sitting on him to keep him from spreading germs to the rest of the school.

As the second year stepped outside, a third possibility occurred to him: Gabe was smarter than previously assumed and was faking it to get out of going outside in this weather. Jozua very nearly turned around to go back inside and declare he caught whatever it was Gabe had, but there were no more reserves after him and the Head of House himself had been the one to tell him Gabe was - quite understandably given how brutal it was right now - beaten down and crushed under this weather. It was his job to tell Captain Liac.

He was shivering by the time he reached the rest of the team and he hadn't even managed a few chattered syllables before Jake was casting a warming charm on him. It helped, a lot, but Jozua was still fondly thinking of the hot chocolate he was going to go looking for as soon as this game was over with. Trying again, without the chattering teeth this time, he successfully informed Liac that Gabe was down for the count and then Jozua was stuck, standing with Joe and Nat, and being told to do his best and improve as a team, and ideally not make Ginger move in her mountain of clothing. Jozua kind of wished he'd been as smart as her in his dressing choices, but he guessed free range of motion was more important in a chaser. Jake's charm was a good one anyway, and while he was definitely still chilly, his face no longer seemed interested in becoming an ice sculpture.

The whistle blew and the game began. Jozua was a little slow off the ground but not embarrassingly so. Nat had the ball anyway, so Teppenpaw was in a good position. The beaters were giving Crotalus trouble and the pass cleared to Joe.

Jozua tried to get in a good passing location, but Nat was too and he was sure Joe would go for the teammate he knew best whenever possible so when it looked like the pass would go her way, he started to maneuver again, but then the Quaffle was coming right at him!

Letting out a startled explicative that was just shy of an actual curse word, Jozua got his hands up in time to fumble with his catch. It was not clean or pretty and he lost a lot of speed as he concentrated less on flying and more on getting hold of the stupid ball, but in the end, Jozua had control of the Quaffle.

He picked up speed again and header for the Crotalus keeper whose name was something like McKinley Newell. Right this moment, he was pretty sure McKinley was one of those criminals Hank Niagara was tasked with apprehending: she was looking awfully big and intimidating to Jozua as he flew into scoring range.

Deciding the first scoring attempt was better left to an actual chaser rather than the reserve, Jozua spotted a yellow robed associate and tossed the Quaffle in that direction.

It even almost went to where it was supposed to go.
1 <font color=yellow>Jozua Sparks, Chaser</font> Can I do nothing please? 348 <font color=yellow>Jozua Sparks, Chaser</font> 0 5

<font color='red'>Daniel Fintoc, Chaser</font>

January 06, 2017 7:27 PM
Quidditch provided a pedestal which made Daniel known in the school and he liked that about it. He liked the idea of people knowing his name and furthermore, these people (especially girls) admiring him from the stands. Attention was always something he’d sought out and he’d never been one to shy away from the spotlight. The third year had never expected to become part of the Quidditch team when he started Sonora, seeing as he had been far more familiar with Quodpot at the time and had professed no special interest in either anyway, although he had participated in the latter quite regularly for fun.

Over the years, however, he had developed a devotion of sorts to the sport and even moreso to the team. He was proud to be part of the Crotalus Quidditch team, even if they had yet to secure a win to their name. Daniel had a tendency for taking things seriously and applied his diligent work ethic to Quidditch too. It had all worked in his favour and he was pleased with the way that he’d developed as a player. The social element was one of the benefits of being on the team too, even if he hadn’t always had the most sociable teammates, and he’d found a friend in Alistair Johnson. Contrary to the negative comments that Chuck would make regarding the Crotalus captain, Daniel had come to see Alistair as most commendable and had a lot to be thankful of him for.

When he looked outside on the morning of the Quidditch match, the view he saw did not help in squashing any nerves. He dressed warmly as instructed and joined Alistair for breakfast, putting on his bravest face because it wouldn’t help the first years if they caught their leading Chaser lacking confidence. He felt the pressure more than ever, it being his first match without Alistair’s lead, or even Isaac Douglas to rely on for that matter. The team’s latest additions would be looking to him for guidance out there on the pitch so he needed to step up to the plate and handle the new responsibility. He felt proud of himself for having gained such authority and responsibility and knew that it was his chance to show that all the hard work, on both his part and the captain’s, had not been for nothing.

Once on the pitch and ready, Alistair gave him little guidance but instead focused on Winston and Simon. He’d already given Daniel a tonne of last minute instruction over breakfast that had left the third year feeling far more prepared than he had when he’d woken up and it had helped to quell his nerves. The confidence in him that Alistair seemed to have was still reassuring, however, and Daniel knew that he should embrace the new challenge.

At the sound of the whistle, the Crotalus kicked off from the ground and rose up, speeding to reach the Quaffle first. This had always been Alistair’s job but the captain had worked on reaction time and speed with his players so that they should all be in with a chance in such a situation. Nevertheless, Dan wasn’t altogether surprised when one of the Teppenpaw Chasers got there first, although when he realised it was Natalie Varth he couldn’t help feeling miffed that it had to be the one girl who beat him to it. He knew better than to let one unfavourable occurence get to him though. Although giving a good starting advantage, getting one’s hands on the Quaffle first was not the be all and end all. The match could very quickly turn around if Dan got his act together.

Thus the third year tore off up the pitch after his classmate, watching the movements of the two other Teppenpaw Chasers in the hope that he could predict Natalie’s pass. He tried to watch out for the his fellow Crotali Chasers at the same time. It was their first game and it was his responsibility to make sure they didn’t run into any problems. Alistair seemed surprisingly protective of those two, but Daniel knew better than to think it was sentimentality and the captain obviously had a vested interest.

Both red-robed boys seemed distracted by bludgers already which wasn’t a good start, but there was nothing Daniel could do about that now. Until the first years sorted themselves out, the game was resting on his shoulders alone. What kind of Teppenpaws picked on the little kids anyway? Dan knew a thing or two about Alistair’s opinion of the house but he couldn’t bring himself to agree. If one read enough books, they would know what it took to be a Teppenpaw and books didn’t lie.

The Teppenpaws made a neat pass, having seized an open opportunity that Daniel had no way of intercepting. He continued forward, closer to Joseph Umland so that he was essentially tailing him. He was aware of the ground that the enemy were covering and felt a great need to intercept this next pass. The yellow-robed boy outsmarted him, feinting left so that Dan darted forward in that direction to intercept the presumed pass to Natalie whilst instead the Quaffle was actually soaring the other way.

Teppenpaw’s reserve player was on the pitch today, Daniel had noted keenly as it probably gave the Crotalus Chasers a better chance. Not only was Jozua Sparks younger than Gabriel Valenti, the player who was usually in the position, but he presumably didn’t have the close relationship with the other two Teppenpaw Chasers which seemed to work out so well for them in games.

When the youngest Teppenpaw player passed, Daniel seized the window of opportunity. He’d been so close to the scoring area but fortunately Jozua had relieved himself of the Quaffle and Daniel quickly swooped in and snatched it up. It hadn’t been the most accurately aimed pass but that had actually worked in Dan’s favour.

The third year hardly had time to nod at Makenzie before he turned sharply and sped back up the pitch, trying to cover as much distance before he felt pressured to open the doors to his young teammates and give either one their first touch of the Quaffle. With the Teppenpaws no doubt hot on his heels, Daniel opted for a forward pass to a red-robed player, hoping that they were ready for it and not worrying about coming under fire from any more bludgers.
8 <font color='red'>Daniel Fintoc, Chaser</font> That suits me. 333 <font color='red'>Daniel Fintoc, Chaser</font> 0 5

<font color="red">Simon Mordue, Chaser</font>

January 07, 2017 11:46 AM
Time did not seem to run normally on the Quidditch Pitch. To Simon, it had seemed to go very fast as he fled the Bludger, but then it had slowed to a crawl as he gathered himself, swallowing repeatedly and wondering if his heart really was pounding hard enough to damage itself. It seemed to him that hours passed, but the positions of the other players on the field made him think it had only really been a few seconds since he was chased away from the Teppenpaw Chaser he had tried to block.

Those few seconds, though, had allowed another Teppenpaw Chaser to catch the Quaffle and the game was still moving toward Makenzie. Simon looked around for his fellow Crotalus Chasers. He found them, but just as he thought Daniel might succeed in finally getting the ball for Crotalus, the Teppenpaw Chaser in question tricked him and passed it to yet another, or so Simon assumed since things kept. Moving. That. Way….

Captain Johnson had promised he would not kill them. Simon focused on that fact as he flew after the ball again, trying to focus on it instead of on looking for and listening for the Bludgers so he could be somewhere that said Bludgers and their users happened to be. He thought they were perfect illustrations of the fact that keeping the wrong company could lead to horrible consequences. Breaking half of his bones wouldn’t, he supposed, be as bad as being rejected by his family or society at large, but it still wasn’t something he wanted to have happen to him.

To his relief, the Teppenpaw Chaser with the Quaffle passed again instead of trying to score and Daniel intercepted it. Daniel was, Simon thought giddily, going to be a House hero later, snatching the Quaffle from the very shadow of the hoops. Simon turned around and followed his team leader, so pleased that he didn’t immediately notice how he was flying until he passed Daniel and realized he was going too fast. He slowed down, and Daniel seemed to take this as a sign to pass the ball forward to Simon. Simon’s mind was in a bit of a panic, but his hands, to his amazement, did what they were supposed to do and actually caught the ball.

He had caught the ball before, of course. He was not going to win any World Cups any time soon, but he had practiced often enough and diligently enough that he had caught passes before. It was different in a real game, though, with all the extra people around and crowds cheering or booing – his heart hit his throat again, as it had when he thought he was going to be hit by a Bludger, and it was only, again, because of training that he didn’t stop and just stare at it in his hands. He kept going forward, remembered the Bludgers, sped up, and started looking for somewhere to pass. They needed to cover ground and everyone knew that, so if he passed quickly, the Teppenpaws might not be expecting it and might therefore let the pass complete….

When he could quite literally feel the blood pounding in his head did not seem like a good time to make decisions, but his logic seemed sound enough to him, so he looked for a colleague and mimicked Daniel’s forward pass, hoping too that the Teppenpaws wouldn’t expect the same move twice and that none of them, anticipating that he would pass later, were on their way to the air ahead of him at that exact moment.
16 <font color="red">Simon Mordue, Chaser</font> Can I join him? 369 <font color="red">Simon Mordue, Chaser</font> 0 5


<font color="yellow">Tobi Reinhardt, Beater</font>

January 08, 2017 3:48 PM
The moment he had miscalculated the time it would take to swing and hit that bludger, Tobi had known it would come back to haunt him. Luckily Jake was aware enough to pull up from where the young Crotalus Beater had aimed the bludger. Tobi chastised himself for having been too ambitious--ambitiousness was not a Teppenpaw trait for a reason, but less because Crotalus had gotten a leg up and more because he had put one of his teammates in danger. He let his arm rest a moment before catching Jake's eye, hoisting his bat again and flying after the bludger.

He wasn't going to give Crotalus another opportunity to maim his teammates.

It was probably an odd choice, playing Beater when Tobi was such a gentle soul, but it made sense. Firstly, Beater was the position Liac had chosen for himself and so naturally Tobi felt it right to play Beater as well. Secondly, and perhaps most important, Tobi didn't view Beating as an offensive tactic. Sure he had made the first move today (and had done so on several other occasions as well) but he was protecting his teammates from malicious metal balls. Beating was defensive and perhaps that was why Tobi was finding that he enjoyed it. He liked helping people, he liked protecting people. The moment Liac left the team, Tobi would too, but it was the defensive aspect to his role in the sport that made it enjoyable in the meanwhile.

The bludger was fast, and now that it had missed Jake once it seemed to have latched on to maiming the next closest player which, since Tobi was planning on intercepting it's next hit, turned out to be Tobi himself and he hit at the ball with all his strength, tipping a bit off balance as he did so since the bludger had slammed into his bat with full force. The years of training had helped to keep him on his broom but the mishap from earlier had left him a little weaker than he usually was and even though the bludger went off in the direction he'd wanted he was upset with himself for not having been more precise with his aiming.

What was wrong with him today? He couldn't quite place his finger on it but there was something off with the way he was playing. He'd have to talk about it with Liac later, check in with Arne. Something was weird in the air, and Tobi didn't know how he felt about it. Maybe it was bad karma or something from targeting younger players. It's what I'm supposed to do, he told the universe silently as he began to circle his teammates once more, looking out for the next bludger aimed at them.

OOC: Bludger clarification, after Jake dodged the bludger, Tobi went to go hit it which went kind of wobbly off towards a Crotalus player.
10 <font color="yellow">Tobi Reinhardt, Beater</font> Got your back! 289 <font color="yellow">Tobi Reinhardt, Beater</font> 0 5


<font color="red">Arne Reinhardt, Beater</font>

January 08, 2017 4:35 PM
The showdown between Teppenpaw and Crotalus had been something Arne'd been waiting for since, well since he let Alistair Johnson of the Arizona Johnsons sign him up for Quidditch back in his first year. It was a weird feeling, he thought to himself as he dressed for the match that morning and headed to breakfast with Laila Kennedy in her ridiculous Spirit Club outfit, to have what you wanted put in front of you only to realize that it wasn't what you wanted at all.

The same eerie feeling stayed with Arne as Professor Skies started the match and Arne watched as his cousin and brother got to both Bludgers before he or Sébastien Évreux could. But the rage and the feeling of not being good enough that he expected to rise up didn't. And instead concern flickered through Arne as he noticed that both his relatives were off their game. There was something weird going on that day, that was for sure. He let Sébastien get in the first hit, bouncing Tobi's bludger towards the Teppenpaw Seeker and worried over his brother's shoulder as Tobi went to hit it back as though playing a game of tennis since he'd seen Tobi rubbing it earlier.

As the Bludgers whizzed around, however, Arne knew that he couldn't afford to spend so much time deliberating over the state of his brother's arm. There would be more time to worry about that later. Tobi was sensible enough and if he needed an out, he would ask for one. Teppenpaw had a reserve, after all. And besides, worrying was neither a Crotalus nor an Arne trait and keeping himself distracted wouldn't allow for full concentration on the match at hand and that was what was important.

Quidditch was something that Arne really cared about. In general his rather aloof attitude towards classes, friends, and pretty much everything else that went on at Sonora probably meant that many people didn't think there was anything that could make Arne Reinhardt care, but that's where they would be wrong. In reality there were three things that he cared about: metal charming, Quidditch, and his family. Even when they got on his nerves by being better than him at everything like Tobi was often wont to do. But, since there was long lived animosity between the Crotalus Captain and the family of Reinharts, and Alistair had recently seemed to take Daniel Fintoc under his wing, Arne knew he would have to match his words to his actions.

He had long been a devoted member of the Crotalus team. Maybe he never voiced his passion for the game to anyone, even to himself, but his actions had always reflected someone who cared deeply whether they won or lost. Part of this had been fueled by a desire to prove that for once he was as good or even better than Tobi at something, but over the years he had found that it was really his passion. It had been difficult to show at first back when he played as a reserve on Teppalus but after having split apart into two teams he felt like he'd really shown his drive.

His sharp eyes caught the metal bludger that one of the new Crotalus chasers had dodged and he swung his arm back, giving a decent SMACK! towards the Teppenpaw yellow robes which were tailing Daniel and Simon, the two Crotali players who had intercepted the Quaffle and were now flying towards Teppenpaw territory with probably hopes to score.

OOC: Bludger clarification, Arne hit the bludger Liac had aimed towards the Crotalus Chasers towards the Teppenpaw Chasers.
10 <font color="red">Arne Reinhardt, Beater</font> You should watch yours... 319 <font color="red">Arne Reinhardt, Beater</font> 0 5

<font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>

January 13, 2017 1:34 PM
Alistair needed to catch the snitch today, for his team and for himself. He was so focused, but as captain and former Chaser he didn’t ignore the game below him either. It seemed that the Teppenpaws had really brought it and were making good progress towards the Crotalus hoops, but then Daniel managed to get a hold of the Quaffle just in time. Alistair smiled proudly, returning his mind to searching the skies intently for signs of the snitch.

He noticed that Jake had decided to start out further away from him but Alistair liked to cover plenty of space with his pattern, keeping himself warm and leaving no area unlooked. He wasn’t bothered by what the Teppenpaw Seeker was doing but knew to keep an eye on him in case he spotted the golden ball first. In that case, he would have to race for it but he liked the idea of putting his skills to the test and coming out the hero of the match even with all odds stacked against him.

That would be impressive but catching the snitch in any way was his goal and he was certain it would bring him the glory he deserved. Crotalus, or rather Alistair, had worked so hard at just maintaining enough players to have a team, and then enough skill to not be slaughtered by the older and more experienced teams, but now it was time for them to really strive for a win. The playing fields were evening out across the houses and now was their chance to make it into the finals.

Alistair’s interest in the Chaser game worked out in his favour as he looked down to see a slight glimmer of gold flying alongside one of his teammates. They hadn’t seemed to have noticed yet. He glanced across at Jake but didn’t hang around, accelerating down towards the pool of players and bludgers with his eyes locked on the snitch. He was going so fast but he could see now that Winston Pierce was the lucky player whom he was racing towards.

Had he not been so focused on just wrapping his hand around the snitch, he might have considered that charging towards one of your first years probably wasn’t going to make them feel at ease but that wasn’t important right now.

And then he was there, reaching out his arm to swipe the snitch from its place by Winston’s head, his red robes probably flicking the first year but no part of his body actually touching the boy. Alistair had been careful to avoid crashing into the kid, only having hoped that Winston would see him coming and not make any unexpected maneuvers that would result in a crash.

“Yeah!” Alistair grinned, pumping the air with his fist, snitch secured tightly inside it.

He’d done it! He’d caught the snitch and won the match! Crotalus had won!

Alistair felt elated, and somewhat relieved, and he made a sharp turn as he slowed down so that he could fly up alongside Winston Pierce and give him a hearty slap on the back, as something of an apology for having to tear towards him in the way that he had.

This was the moment he’d always dreamt of. It was his moment of glory and he felt he deserved it.
8 <font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font> Watch out Dill, I'm coming for you. 306 <font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font> 0 5

Winston

January 20, 2017 5:08 PM
Winston was not doing so hot (pun not intended) during this cold January game. The warming charms were doing their job but he wasn't. He'd been charged with playing offense, but Crotalus honestly seen a lot of offense going on and what they had done was almost all Daniel.

Winston's claims to fame this game were Not Getting Taken Out By a Bludger and Getting In The Way - fortunately the later was mostly in regards to the Teppenpaw players, making it harder for them to complete passes and perform exciting combos, but occasionally he had messed up his own people by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Once and only once he had done everything just right and managed an assist in helping Daniel score a goal, but mostly he had just felt useless.

At this precise moment of the game, Daniel and Simon were trying to wrest control back from Teppenpaw again while Winston sat by, waiting to be needed for another offensive push. He watched Daniel try to set up for an intercept, trying to figure out how the older boy did it.

For some reason, chance or luck or latent divination talent, Winston looked up in time to see Alistair Johnson charging down at him.

"Eep!" Winston squeaked, his mind immediately throwing up the pointless protest that he promised not to kill me! Obviously that was no longer the case. Winston was sitting here observing techniques instead of actually helping and clearly this was the wrong thing to be doing!

He flew instinctively to the side to defend himself from the assault and, to his surprise, Alistair kept going right past him, the wind of his rushing passage adding further chill to the already cold air. Winston grabbed his broom with both hands to steady himself from the turbulence and harsh slap of trailing robe tails against his side.

A moment later, clarity blossomed as Captain Alistair Johnson of Crotalus held the snitch aloft.

Right. Of course. Of course it was the snitch. Captain Johnson needed Winston on the team for numbers if not for his skill. And even if he did decide to murder Winston, he wouldn't do it out here in front of the whole school. Alistair was smarter than that.

Then the greater realization dawned and Winston laughed and whooped and pumped his fists in the air in victory, because this game was over and Crotalus had won!

Crotalus was going to the finals!

Alistair came up beside him and clapped him on the back and Winston's flying skill was good enough that it didn't unbalance him (he was kind of proud of that) and he swung his own hand around in a gesture somewhere between a high five and a handshake and crowed, "You did it! Whoo! We won!"
1 Winston Dill?? Watch out me! 370 Winston 0 5