Substitute Prof. Isis Carter
January 20, 2017 4:19 PM
Championship Game: Aladren vs. Crotalus! by Substitute Prof. Isis Carter
Isis sighed. She had been so happy when the school had acquired a Quidditch coach, but the poor woman’s health was just not cooperating with the game schedule. Or just… cooperating, it seemed, as Isis was informed that Juliet Grase was now on sick leave. Hopefully she would return soon, not only for the sake of her recovery from whatever it was that plagued her, but also for the sake of Sonora’s Quidditch program.Isis was not the only option to substitute coach a Quidditch match - she hadn’t had to do either of the two previously this term - but she was a fairly logical choice for it as long as she had no major schedule conflicts. Which she usually didn’t, since she hardly ever left the school. She was leaving a little more lately, checking on her mother, but even that was quick.
She arrived on the pitch this morning to check the weather, and she sighed again at her findings. Temperature wise, it wasn’t too bad: maybe a little chillier than the finals usually were, but not too bad. But the wind was angry, and a cold rain fell hard. It was a familiar phenomenon to her, like April or May in Detroit, the gloomy springs of which she could never quite forget. The coolness would not require heating charms, but she did send notice to both captains that they were going to want drying spells.
Aladren and Crotalus had both worked very hard to get this far. While Isis was not a fan of the sport by any means, their determination was nonetheless remarkable. She called their captains forward to shake hands. “Let’s have a good, clean game, gentlemen,” she said, glancing between Clark Dill and Alistair Johnson. Then she freed the Bludgers and the Snitch and grabbed the Quaffle. Isis sent the red orb ascending as the shrill whistle bounced off all obstacles, and the game was under way, leaving her to watch carefully and pray that nobody got hurt.
OOC: Congrats on getting this far! Have a good game, guys. Just make sure you follow the rules, and please make your name the appropriate color. You have exactly two weeks. Have fun, and don’t kill each other too much!
Subthreads: Last time around by <font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font> with <font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>, <font color="blue">John Umland, Beater</font>, <font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font>
In it to win it. by <font color='red'>Daniel Fintoc, Chaser </font> with <font color="red">Arne Reinhardt, Beater</font>, <font color="blue">Amelia Layne semi-Chaser</font>
You were warned. by <font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font> with Prof. Isis Carter
12
Substitute Prof. Isis Carter
Championship Game: Aladren vs. Crotalus!
31
Substitute Prof. Isis Carter
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<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
January 24, 2017 10:12 PM
Last time around by <font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
Clark did not normally get nervous before Quidditch games these days. Even last time, coming back for potentially his final game after his first lost, and going against the same seeker who had beaten him the year before, he hadn't really been nervous. He'd felt some pressure to win, some pride to reclaim, some perfectionism raising up to fix the blemish that had appeared on his record, but he'd gone into the game with a plan and confidence, and an unspoken acceptance that if it was his final game, at least that would give him more time to study for his RATS.Today was different. Today there was no silver lining to losing. Today there was no uncertainty. This was, absolutely, his last game at Sonora, his last game representing Aladren. He thought it was very likely that he would continue the sport into college - heck, he had a pending Seeking Scholarship to the University of Toronto if he decided to go there, which he very well might, if he won this game and the scouts in the audience today decided Clark was somebody they wanted on their team (he just assumed that they'd decide against him if he lost today). Because if he got the Seeker scholarship, that would be a full ride. His financial package to CalTech was decent, but not that good.
So he was here, and the Toronto people were here, and Clark's future was literally on the line. One way or another, this game would impact it. Was he going to become a Canadian or a Californian? Was he going to have twenty five years of debt, or come out of college with a positive balance in his bank account?
He supposed he could possibly even have the opportunity to go pro if this worked out in his favor, but he wasn't sure he wanted to even consider that boat yet. Science was obviously his long term plan, but pro Quidditch wasn't a retirement career. Just look at Coach Grase. He'd just have to try to time his retirement for before he took that debilitating bludger that ended his career for him and left him with a lot of health problems. (He wasn't sure that her current sick leave was related to her Quidditch injuries, but neither was he convinced that they weren't.) The coach was still young, still had plenty of time for another career if she chose that route.
But first he had to see how this game went, what the Toronto scouts thought about him. If it went in Crotalus' favor, all of that was gone in a puff of smoke and no longer on the table. CalTech's financial package was based on his grades and his dad being an alumnus, not on Clark's sporting extracurriculars. CalTech was more into Quadpot anyway and he wasn't sure if they even had a ranked Quidditch college team.
So, yeah, Clark was a bit nervous today. This Quidditch game actually mattered in a way none of his previous games ever had.
. . . And it was pouring rain. Lovely. Poor visibility. Strong winds likely to muck up everything from Quaffle tosses to flight patterns. As he got out to the pitch proper, he was at least relieved that the gusts were not favoring either House, as they were going crosswise rather than lengthwise and nobody was going to be flying directly into the wind on their way to the goals.
He'd been pre-warned about the need for drying charms, so his were already in place as his team gathered around him, and he offered and cast them on the younger players who still needed them as they arrived. One he had his full team present, he began his speech, keeping it short and simple in the hopes that being efficient would get the game started faster and therefore the game ended faster and therefore settle all of his future's uncertainties and get everyone out of the rain sooner.
"Good luck everyone. This is my last game as your captain, so I just want to say now that it has been a pleasure working with each and everyone of you. I'm proud of you all, regardless of how this game goes. That said, I'm sure you'll all do great. We're all Aladrens so we're smart and I won't belabor all the things we've been practicing for months." He didn't bother to mention that John was going to cover him, because this was the way they trained every single practice, John worked with Clark on his new and improved pattern. Louis, having been a talented Chaser himself, worked with the Chasers, helping them learn to work around bludgers in their game. Or something like that. Clark wasn't entirely sure what they did, honestly. He just knew John said Louis said they were coming along nicely. So he trusted they did whatever they did well and it worked for the four of them in the Chaser Unit. Lena, too, had her practices with both the Aladren Chaser Unit and her new group of Keeper friends, so Clark was confident she was as ready as she'd ever be for this final.
"I will just note the wind and the rain, and remind you all to take that into account with whatever balls you might be throwing or hitting," or catching in his own case, but he didn't really need to mention that to the rest of them as it wasn't pertinent to anyone but him, "and to watch that your brooms aren't drifting too much. The wind is pushing us sideways. The rain is pushing us down. Don't let it take you by surprise, and, if you can, use it to your advantage. We're clever. Play smart. John, I'll be using the back-up pattern. Go Aladren!"
After the cheer, he went to shake Alistair's hand, glad that his nerves did not demonstrate themselves in a shaky voice or trembling hand, just as a minor unsettled feeling in his stomach. He thought there might be a witty remark about the rain and keeping things clean, but he couldn't pull it together in time, so he just shook the Crotalus captain's hand with a more generic, "Good luck," that was traditional but not heartfelt. He truthfully was kind of hoping that all of Alistair's luck this game might be bad.
It was probably good he hadn't won that potion of Felix Felicis or he might have been sorely tempted to use a drop or two of it today, even though that had been expressly forbidden. He'd just have to trust to his own natural luck, which, admittedly, was generally pretty awesome most of the time.
Maybe that was his alien power. Just a constant, low-grade Felix Felicis in effect on him, all the time. Not as flashy as Superman, obviously, but a good power to have just the same. He'd take it. Especially today.
As he readied himself for take-off, Clark took a moment to mentally thank Jake again for the gift of his broom. He'd had most of a year practice with it, so at least he had no concerns on the broom front this game.
The whistle blew and he kicked off, launching immediately into a pattern that was designed with lower visibility in mind, so it involved more altitude changes than his normal one. This was a lesser practiced pattern, the one he called his 'back-up' and not one that came out in games very often. (And even when it did, the visibility was poor, so he wasn't sure how well anyone watching from the stands could tell that it was different to his normal one.) Of course, this was rain, not fog, so visibility wasn't that reduced this time around, but he didn't really want to take chances. The snitch was hard enough to see under normal circumstances.
And today was his last game and there were people to impress and his future to win. No reason not to pull out all of the stops. Besides, it wasn't as ingrained, so he'd be watching to make sure he hit his marks rather than flying on autopilot. With this wind today, that was probably a good thing.
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<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
Last time around
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<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
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<font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>
January 29, 2017 6:57 AM
It won't be like old times. by <font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>
Winning had felt amazing.It had meant a lot to the whole team, after years (for some of the players at least) of hard work, to finally get that reward they’d been striving for. But it had also felt like a personal triumph for Alistair. He’d given his all to the Crotalus Quidditch team since his very first year at Sonora but never before had a taste of victory. And now he had that taste, he wanted more. It was human nature and he was sure he wasn’t the only one on his team who had felt so elated after the win.
Alistair had proved that he could make the switch from Chaser to Seeker so late in the day and still be the best player on the pitch. But the truth of the matter was, Jake Manger had not been much of a challenge. The shady Teppenpaw Seeker had no snitch catches to his name whatsoever. Clark Dill was a completely different ball game. He had a long history of victory after victory. It had been broken by Jamie Park last year but he’d come up trumps again this term so Alistair wasn’t lacking faith in the Aladren’s skills. He’d studied the Seekers closely in the Aladren-Pecari game before midterm and it was obvious that Dill knew what he was doing.
Not only that but the Aladren team organised their Beaters differently to how the Teppenpaw team did. Alistair suspected he would have John Umland attacking him with bludgers at every given opportunity, whereas Liac and Tobi had both been focused on the Chasers as well as him and Jake which split the attacks up somewhat. Umland and Dill seemed to be solid friends off the pitch and it was clear from watching them that the pair worked together a lot.
Alistair wished his team could be as dedicated and slick as that but he knew it was no reflection of his own coaching abilities, especially since the rest of the Aladren wasn’t quite up to par with the Umland-Dill duo. Alistair had been working a lot with Bastien in team practice since he’d decided that he’d take his chances with the younger Crotalus Beater and leave his assistant captain to take care of the young Chaser trio in matches. Alistair wasn’t lacking knowledge regarding any of the Quidditch positions, and would actually bet that he could play any of them better than most across all four teams with a bit of practice, but he had nonetheless encouraged Arne to pay particular attention to Bastien’s performance and give him additional tips and feedback.
There were still so many unknowns about his future but Alistair’s confidence about going pro was only growing. He had known the risks of changing positions but firmly believed it had actually worked out in his favour. Seeking was what he was supposed to do, not Chasing (although he was talented at that too), and it was good that he’d been given the opportunity to realise that before it was too late. It wasn’t that he had doubted his chances at becoming a professional Chaser, but it seemed that the Seeker position just suited him better and really allowed him to show his best qualities as a player, which the scouts were more likely to pick up on.
Alistair was still just a fifth year, yet to sit his CATS at the end of the year, so he wouldn’t be looking at signing with any teams for another couple of years. He was going to graduate from Sonora with his RATS under his belt, that was a definite. Nevertheless, it didn’t hurt to get recognised as early in the day as possible so that they’d remember him when the time came and he was ready to sign a contract. He was aware that he wasn’t going to instantly become the star Seeker for one of the top teams in the country upon leaving Sonora but that wasn’t what he was aiming for, at this moment in time. He just wanted to become a professional Quidditch player and, of course, once he got that far he would only go up from there.
As a child it had seemed like such a great dream, so far off, but the older he got, the closer it became. It wasn’t daunting, but motivating, and was a large part of the reason why Alistair worked so hard. He wanted to be the best he could possibly be, and he wanted that for his teammates too. Even though Quidditch wasn’t their passion like it was his, they clearly enjoyed it at least. And the better you were at something, the more enjoyable it was.
It was spring and the last game of the school year, so Alistair had hoped the weather would be warmer and drier, a nice change from the elements everyone had had to brave in previous matches. He didn’t want blinding sun of course, but he could do without heavy rain and howling wind today. At least they could all survive without warming charms today but Alistair instructed his team to use drying spells, offering his services to his youngest players.
Once satisfied that the whole team had undergone his warm up, Alistair called them to gather around for a few last minute words before the game started.
“This year has been a big step for the Crotalus team,” Alistair smiled at them all. “We had our first win in the last match and we worked really hard for that. We deserved it and I’m really proud of how you all played. But this is the finals, so we need to up our game-” He said this as much for his own benefit as the team’s. “We’ve trained a lot since the last match and you’ve all improved so I have faith that you’re going to perform even better today. We are capable of winning this.” Alistair’s firm belief in this statement came across in his voice.
He’d worked a lot at fixing the gaps he’d seen in the performance of his players in their first game so he was certain that the playing quality would only be even better today. But ultimately he knew that the outcome of the game was largely relying on his ability to perform under the pressure of going up against Clark Dill’s exceptional track record.
“Chasers,” Alistair looked at Dan, Winston and Simon in turn. “You’re doing a lot better in practice so I expect great things from you today. Remember to work together as a team. Daniel will go for the Quaffle at the start like last time, so you two need to get into good positions to help him out once he’s got it. This time, we’re having Winston play defence and Simon attacking, but don’t forget that this will change depending on who's in possession of the Quaffle.”
“Évreux, you’re with me obviously - watch out for Umland, he’s surprisingly good these days,” Alistair told his Seeker Beater before glancing at Arne and giving him a nod. “Arne, you’re on the Chasers but I’d also encourage firing at Dill if you can get a good shot.”
“And last but by no means least,” Alistair smiled encouragingly at Makenzie. “You’ve come a really long way and you’re doing a great job, so just keep up the good work. Spencer’s your main threat but the other two Chasers are a walk in the park compared to the Teppenpaws. You’ll do great.”
Alistair returned to talking to the Crotalus team as a whole. “Alright then team, remember that confidence is the key. Keep your heads in the game and give Aladren all you’ve got. Now, we’ve got a Cup to win!”
With those final words of encouragement, he strode off the meet the substitute professor and the opposing captain in the middle of the pitch.
“Seeker? Ha, good luck with that. You’ll have to go up against Clark Dill - he’s unbeatable.” Alistair knew he still had a lot to prove, but he could do this. He shook Clark’s hand firmly, not allowing himself to be put off by the Aladren Captain’s “good luck” (to which he responded with a slight nod). He wasn’t about to get friendly with this guy, whoever Clark Dill was on the Quidditch pitch.
The fifth year scanned the stands briefly as he got into position. He was a firm believer in skill over luck but it didn’t hurt to check that his “good luck charm” was watching, not that he’d allowed himself to think of her as any such thing before. He spotted a familiar blonde head but didn’t allow his gaze to linger, returning his focus to the game. Alistair was not willing to be distracted by anything, or anyone. This was serious. He’d wanted a challenge and now he was getting one.
He shot up into the air when the whistle blew, enjoying the rush of the wind through his robes and he accelerated upwards. The Crotalus Seeker’s glanced across to note Dill’s initial pattern but decided not to get too close to him straight off the mark. No doubt Umland was already trying to get his hands on a bludger to send his way. Alistair was really going to need his wits about him.
8
<font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>
It won't be like old times.
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<font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>
0
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<font color="blue">John Umland, Beater</font>
February 01, 2017 4:12 PM
All you targets look pretty much the same to me. by <font color="blue">John Umland, Beater</font>
Toronto was not, in the grand scheme of things, a place John had ever thought about much. His maternal grandparents lived there, but he rarely saw them. His mom was from there, but had completed her education in Alberta and married his father and lived in Calgary for decades now and it never really occurred to John to think of her as an Easterner. To John, the east was mostly just the place where the Prime Minister and Quebec were. Not much to do with him, as he assumed the only reason Alberta, Ontario, and Quebec were all still part of the same country was because they enjoyed talking about splitting up too much to ever actually do so.Recently, this had changed. Clark was thinking of going to school there. John still did not know exactly what his ultimate thoughts on this were, there were still several questions chasing each other around in his head on the topic (did he apply there so we could go to school together more and stay friends? Is that a thing I am allowed to ask, or would Joe disapprove? If so [on the first point], why didn’t he ask things? I live five miles from the University of Calgary and I really like Cornell’s motto, that would be weird, if he was in my country and I was in his, but those two are reasonably close together, I think….), but it had created in him a whole new awareness of the existence of the place. Toronto was now important to his everyday life, and never more than today, when people from there were watching Clark play Quidditch. This could end up deciding which side of the continent Clark went to school on, and as much as John hated to admit it (it seemed like the kind of thing which could possibly indicate John was in fact a homosexual, and if the majority of evidence ever began to support that possibility, John would have to cut off all contact with his friend forever, which he thought would make them both sad), that might very well end up influencing which side of the continent John next went to school on. Today was very important on several different levels.
This did not keep John’s mind from addressing multiple other things, off-task, as Clark gave his speech – there were the girls who seemed to want to be cheerleaders or something; did Gia know he knew her brother was a werewolf now? Was there a point at which it became acceptable to ask Jax questions after he came back from his monthly trips? Why was the weather always off when it was time to play Quidditch – but he was considerably more focused than usual as his friend shook hands with Alistair Johnson and the game got underway.
In the air, Johnson did not immediately go after Clark. This meant Johnson had probably watched the last match and knew there was a plan to prevent anyone from doing what Park had done on the Day That They Were Never Talking About Again, Ever. Johnson was not a total idiot, then, even though he had changed his position late in the game for no apparent reason – no-one on Crotalus had ever been brilliant, but John was sure the younger wizard had been a better Chaser than those skittish little sparrows he’d seen in the last match. Joe had remarked later that he had felt sorry for them, and then said something impolite – knowing, of course, that he couldn’t be punched for it because of Brotherly Prerogatives – when John had made a Remark about his Teppenpaw-ishness….
Joe: not relevant. Teppenpaw: not relevant. Little sparrows: not relevant unless one is in range and I can cause mayhem by harming him. Johnson’s intelligence: relevant. Clark’s position: relevant. Let’s see….
Clark looked safe enough right now as he began his backup pattern, so John broke ranks for a moment to see if the thing he thought he saw in the corner of his eye was a Bludger. It was, so he whacked it toward Johnson, hoping to drive him further away, before flying back toward Clark and into the backup pattern which would, hopefully, spell flawless victory.
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<font color="blue">John Umland, Beater</font>
All you targets look pretty much the same to me.
285
<font color="blue">John Umland, Beater</font>
0
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<font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font>
February 02, 2017 4:00 PM
Yeah, well your face doesn't look pretty to me by <font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font>
For the first time since Sébastien had started playing Quidditch – and apparently also longer than that – Crotalus had made it to the final. Sébastien hadn’t yet decided if this was a good thing. On the one hand, being in the final meant a chance at glory, and he’d never turned down glory yet. He liked the idea of being hailed a hero when his team won. However, being in the final also meant pressure. Most of the school would be watching, and most of the school would be judging him. Bastien was all too aware of the fact that he wasn’t the most talented beater ever, despite continually ignoring it. Sure, Alistair and Arne had helped him a lot in training. He had to admit that Alistair was a very good coach, especially as the captain had to fill a role that Bastien had originally thought would be Coach Grase’s job. It didn’t help, either, that the final was again Aladren. Aladren had a good – or bad, depending how you looked at it – reputation, and an easy win was probably not on the cards, which was a shame.Having a room to himself was once again proven to be useful, as Bastien was able to give himself a good pep talk in the mirror before leaving. He found it was always useful to remind himself exactly how great he was. Feeling more confident, he headed out of the school building. He was just walking outside when he suddenly realised it was raining and, with a slight squeal, jumped back inside. They had to play in the rain? He must have missed an owl or a notice somewhere. They couldn’t expect him to play in weather like this.
Reaching the Quidditch pitch, he realised that they did indeed expect him to play in weather like this, and his face dropped into a scowl. He reluctantly accepted Alistair’s offer of doing the drying charm for him. Normally, Sébastien preferred not to ask for help, but getting wet was something he could not cope with. Besides it wasn’t like certain people would ever know.
His mood improved slightly as Alistair heaped praise on the team. Receiving praise from a really good player like Alistair Johnson was always appreciated by his ego. He was slightly irked by the suggestion that Arne should get in on his seeker beater action, but he mental image of a surprised Dill being attacked by two bludgers brought a smirk to his lips. The Aladren seeker wasn’t going to know what had hit him – quite literally!
Up in the air, Sébastien’s first priority was to check where the bludgers were at. He’d learnt the hard way that it was always good to have a vague awareness of whether or not your teammates were at risk. Luckily for him, Arne seemed to have control of one, and the other was- oh dear. The other had just been sent in Alistair’s direction, which was far from ideal. Luckily, he was still close enough to his captain that he was able to get there in time to avoid a collision. The maiming of their captain and seeker within the first few minutes would definitely not lead to glory for Bastien.
He breathed out a sigh of relief as he sent the bludger in the direction of Dill, admittedly not with as much strength as Umland had managed. Time to get his head in the game.
9
<font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font>
Yeah, well your face doesn't look pretty to me
350
<font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font>
0
5
<font color=blue>Captain Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
February 03, 2017 1:00 PM
I'm feeling feint by <font color=blue>Captain Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
Clark saw that Alistair was keeping some distance from him for now. Good. That was the way he liked it. Granted, he had a good broom now, so it wasn't a matter of needing a head start now, though that was a nice cushion if he could get it, but he just generally enjoyed flying more if he didn't have a rival breathing down his neck and possibly making comments (as Jamie had done).He settled more comfortably into his pattern, his eyes peeled for glimmers or gold and his ears peeled for cracks of beater bats. Other than that though, especially early in a game, and without Alistair marking him too closely and posing a potential physical threat (not that ramming was legal, but it could be disguised as accidental), he was free to think a bit on the hug Lena had offered.
Unfortunately, such muses were interrupted far too quickly by a crack of a bat against a bludger. Amelia. He briefly worried for the reserve he'd had to sub in last minute that morning, but avoiding bludgers was maybe the one thing where her seeking practice carried over really well to chasing. He smiled as she got away clean and Louis got the ball off toward a Crotalus.
More cracks brought his attention back to his own game. John at Alistair, but Sabastien was able to get in there and send it back toward Clark.
John's bludger dodging practices had inured him to the terror of a bludger approach, and he found himself able to calmly assess his situation. It was a clean hit, on target. Clark had to move. He dropped into a dive, as that allowed gravity to work with him and add speed to his escape. It wasn't particularly powerful hit, however; John had sent much harder hits at him in practice. This was a double edged sword. It meant that if he moved fast enough, it might not latch onto his hear signature at all, and John could pick it up at his leisure. On the other hand, if it did recognize his presence, it did not have the momentum to overshoot his dive point and would be able to follow after him. Clark didn't think it had sufficient speed to catch him in that case, but he'd be running until John freed him from its pursuit.
He pushed his broom to its max diving speed, hoping to pull free completely from the bludger. As long as he was doing that anyway, he may as well try to give Alistair a scare, so he focused on a single point near the ground and reached a hand out like he saw something. A Wronski Feint wasn't a bad thing to pull with a Quidditch scout watching in any event.
Ignoring the bludger entirely- in part because, for the feint to work, you couldn't let on that anything else on the field mattered, and in part because this should put enough distance between him and it to lose it, and even if it didn't, he fully trusted John to handle it before he pulled out.
And pull out he did, a mere couple feet above the grass. He let his toes drag in the dirt for just a moment, not quite showing off to the scout how close he could get to the ground without crashing, then kicked up for a tiny boost in his ascent back to seeking altitude. Only then did he look around to see what had become of the bludger and Alistair, and, if he was really lucky, see if he could maybe spot the snitch from this unusual position, down below the chaser game.
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<font color=blue>Captain Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
I'm feeling feint
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<font color=blue>Captain Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
0
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<font color="blue">John Umland, Beater</font>
February 03, 2017 1:42 PM
I'm feeling slightly distracted. by <font color="blue">John Umland, Beater</font>
John supposed it meant he was getting a little cocky, but he was mildly surprised when the little Crotalus Beater, the one who was not a Reinhardt, managed to intercept the Bludger and send it back toward Clark.He did not, however, manage to send it too powerfully back toward Clark, so John wasn’t really alarmed by the change in the situation. He remembered being a second year Beater pretty well; he had been totally new to the position, and while it helped that he thought it was his natural place on a Quidditch Pitch, he had still been thirteen at the time. A strong second year was not, barring exceptional circumstances, as strong as a sixth year. He admired the kid for taking a shot, really. He’d probably be pretty good at this eventually, well after John left.
For now, Clark dove and John pursued the Bludger. He smiled as he saw Clark was going for a Wronski Feint – that was probably for the scouts, he thought fondly; it was always fun to show off a little, but ever so much more fun, not to mention potentially profitable in this case, with an appreciative audience – and knocked the Bludger away from his friend’s trajectory. He looked for Johnson as he followed it on its new path, looking to see if the younger boy took the bait or if he did something else so John could aim at him again. At the very least, he could wear the younger boy’s Beater down, and at best, he could damage the competition and maybe Toronto would think offering John large sums of money sometime was a good idea, too. He expected academic scholarships, but money was money and money was necessary for the procurement of degrees and the less of it he spent on undergraduate, the easier acquiring his advanced degrees would be.
Spotting Johnson, he struck the Bludger again, just before it would have attacked John himself – he had gotten off-task, thinking about scholarships and degrees and Toronto – and checked the other positions that were relevant to his job. He did not mind if Évreux or Johnson made contact with the Bludger, particularly, but he did not want Arne Reinhardt to get in on the fun and did want to know exactly where Clark was and what Clark was doing and when what Clark was doing involved catching the Snitch.
16
<font color="blue">John Umland, Beater</font>
I'm feeling slightly distracted.
285
<font color="blue">John Umland, Beater</font>
0
5
<font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>
February 03, 2017 2:39 PM
No, <i>this</i> is being distracted. by <font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>
The downside of being such a committed coach for the Crotalus team was that, when it came to matches, Alistair found it could be difficult to pay the right attention to the other players’ performances. It was a more noticeable question now that he was Seeker, because any sort of distraction could result in him missing the snitch. But at the same time, he could hardly give his teammates feedback if he didn't observe how they played during the game. And he was very interested in seeing how they developed as individuals, as well as looking for collective gaps that the whole team needed more work on. Alistair supposed that's why coaches and captains were two very different things in the real world of Quidditch. It was funny how much responsibility had been given to him since he was just a mere first year, but he could hardly begrudge it for the great opportunity it had provided him. He felt that he'd really developed as a coach over the years and was proud that it had really paid off this time. No one could pretend otherwise, now that Crotalus were actually in the finals.Alistair didn't doubt himself, as a general rule. Anybody could see that without even needing to know him. But as he had matured over the years, he’d attained a lot more self-awareness and knew that not everyone held the appropriate amount of respect or admiration for him. He assumed that he wasn't overly popular with some of the Quidditch fanatics in the other houses but that made sense to some degree. To them he was a threat, because he was so good. But sometimes he felt as though members of his own team had been indifferent towards him. Perhaps it was just because they couldn't handle the hard work and effort he asked of them. Fortunately the Crotalus team had evolved and the newer players were much easier to coach. As much of an issue it could have presented, Alistair had secretly been glad to see the back of Uzume Shinohara. For some reason she'd always seemed more in league with the Reinhardts, even when they'd no longer been on the same team. Alistair supposed they was probably the reason that Arne was the way he was. But now that he no longer was forced to work alongside Liac Reinhardt and his weird silent henchman, Alistair really couldn't give them the time of day and he wasn't surprised that Arne wasn't going to let it go too. He was a Crotalus and if he was going to be captain of the team one day (which was a horrible thought, not because it was Arne, but because this was the team that Alistair had built all by himself and passing it over to anyone's hands meant he could no longer guide them to success and his work could be undone) then he needed to know where his loyalty lay. Admittedly the younger Crotalus had showed more enthusiasm towards the team this year than he had previously but he was a fool not to make the most out of being Alistair Johnson’s second in command.
One day that name would really mean something and then perhaps that would put the youngest Reinhardt in his place, not that it would even matter by then.
Alistair at least got to see Daniel snag he Quaffle before he found himself under attack. He knew that John Umland wouldn't be taking it easy under any circumstances but he hadn't overlooked the fact that this was the legendary Clark Dill’s last match either. No doubt he'd want to go out with a bang and reclaim his Seeking legacy so they'd be playing harder than ever to make this happen. But that didn't mean they wanted this win anymore that Alistair did. He needed this and he was going to give his all and more. Hopefully the rest of his team were also set out to give one hundred and ten percent. He expected nothing less from them. House pride existed in everyone, he was sure, whether they were interested in Quidditch or not. And Alistair was sure that his team were determined not to look like idiots in front of the entire school, which wasn't the reason he would've liked to be behind their effort but if it got the results he couldn't complain. He also believed that they would want to do him proud, and they quite rightly should.
Alistair knew that his team weren't the bunch of talented athletes he wished they were and no matter how hard he worked, the fifth year couldn't work miracles. So long as they did their best today, he would be happy with them. But he wouldn't be happy with himself if they didn't win. Alistair was so certain that he had it in him. He could beat Clark Dill, and he just needed to prove that now - to the crowd and to himself. If he was going to be a professional athlete one day, he needed to be able to rise to challenges like this and come out on top.
Évreux sent Umland’s bludger flying back towards Dill. From what he could tell, it wasn't the most powerful hit but it was a hit and it was in the right direction so it was a good start. Alistair would have been concerned if Sébastien had failed to defend him so early in the game but he shot him a “well done Évreux” nonetheless because he had come to understand the effect of positivity in more recent years. If his Seeker Beater was thinking positively, he would play positively. Alistair trusted that his and Arne’s work with the second year had paid off and, although he was of course still a long way off from Umland’s standards, the Crotalus captain had enough trust in his abilities to keep him in such a key position for what might well be their toughest match yet.
Dill dodged the bludger but then Alistair heart sped up because the Aladren Seeker did more than just dodge. He was diving down, and fast, and then he outstretched his arm... Alistair was straight off after him before he had even fully processed the other captain’s manoeuvres. There was a high chance that Dill was tricking him, especially since the snitch didn’t usually appear this early in the school games, but Alistair couldn’t risk overestimating the opposition’s tactics. That would be really foolish.
But as he dove down past the Chaser play, the Crotalus captain was distracted by one of his first years crying out upon taking a bludger to the shoulder. It was déjà vu.
Shock shot through Alistair’s body, the off-centre impact sending him back around to face the Teppalus hoops and throwing him forwards onto his broomstick, his face smashing into the broom handle and the Quaffle obviously relinquishing itself from his hold. The young Crotalus was momentarily lost for breath, the pain so agonizing where the bludger had struck his deltoid.
His worst nightmare might just have happened. Injuries were a part of playing the game but this hadn’t just been any old injury for him and the last thing Alistair wanted was for any one of his players to experience the same thing. On reflection, he’d played his own part in inflicting the pain when he’d been too impatient with the recovery process, but even so it had all been most excruciating even before that.
But then the bludger-ed first year regained possession of the Quaffle and passed it, which put Alistair a bit more at ease - although he too had played on back in his first year so that didn’t necessarily mean that all was okay. He noted that the unlucky kid was Simon Mordue and he was proud of him for continuing. That was the kind of spirit and perseverance he wanted to see more of from his team.
Alistair returned his attention to his own task and swore. He’d slowed down to watch the spectacle. How stupid could he get?! He knew it would have been a completely different story if it had been one of the older players getting hit, but a first year taking a blow to the shoulder was just history repeating itself. He wanted to forget it but perhaps there was something in the back of his mind insisting that he still wasn’t one hundred percent physically healed and he just refused to admit it.
The fifth year accelerated after Clark but, even with speed being one of his greatest strengths (and his broom being a top of the range racing broom), there was no way he was going to get there in time. But maybe it was just as well because Clark suddenly turned sharply, leaving it so late that he was pushing off the ground. He was clearly pulling out the stops and Alistair couldn’t help wondering if he had scouts he was trying to impress. He’d hadn’t considered it before, because Clark was clearly a nerd who would be interested in doing nerdy things with his future, but now that he did, it didn’t really sound that crazy. Clark Dill definitely had the talent.
The distance between Alistair and the opposing Seeker actually worked out in his favour, because it gave him time to respond to Clark’s sudden change in direction and save himself the risk of crashing into the ground. Alistair didn’t think he would have, but he had to hand it to Dill - the guy sure could pull of a Wronski Feint.
There was no let up from Umland and as he tried to regain some altitude, Alistair spotted another bludger coming his way. At this rate he’d be searching the skies for bludgers, rather than the snitch. He veered to one side and continued to climb, avoiding the aggressive bludger whilst trying to return to his Seeking pattern so that Évreux would be able to keep tabs on him more easily again.
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<font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>
No, <i>this</i> is being distracted.
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<font color='red'>Capt. Ali Johnson, Seeker</font>
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<font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font>
February 03, 2017 4:15 PM
And this is, hopefully, being distracting by <font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font>
Sébastien was disappointed when Clark dived, missing his carefully aimed bludger. Having moving targets really didn’t making beating easier! Still, at least it meant Dill had needed to change direction. Bastien was definitely counting the feint as an avoidance technique rather than skilled playing on Dill’s behalf, and Johnson’s congratulations only supported his theory. It was nice to be appreciated.Then Umland was going for the bludger. Remembering his captain’s earlier comment about surprisingly good, Sébastien watched him closely for an indication of what his next move would be. Despite enjoying a nice bit of ego-boosting, he wasn’t stupid enough as to entirely underestimate a fellow player, especially one such as Umland, who had the advantage of both age and experience. Not for the first time, Bastien found himself wishing that he was bigger and stronger.
Umland looked over at Alistair, and Sébastien grinned to himself, congratulating himself on his ability to judge what was happening next. He immediately directed his flight over in Johnson’s direction, planning to be ready and waiting for the bludger that would doubtless come their way. This wasn’t helped by the fact that Alistair had high-tailed after Dill- wait a moment! Had Dill seen the snitch? It was very early on in the game, but he wouldn’t put it past the annoyingly lucky Aladren seeker. Then Dill pulled up, and it became obvious that he’d just been trying to be annoyingly tricky. Alistair had paused, for some reason, and this gave Sébastien more of a chance to get protectively near his captain, ready for Umland’s bludger.
However, the Aladren beater simply knocked the bludger off its path, leaving a rather confused Sébastien. What was Umland playing at? He was obviously planning something – these sneaky Aladrens couldn’t be trusted. Sébastien had just started to move away from Alistair’s general vicinity when Umland hit the bludger once more, directly at Bastien’s captain. Mildly panicking, he whirled around to regain his earlier position, but was unfortunately too late to get there in time. He was just glad that Alistair had been able to dodge the bludger.
Luckily, Sébastien hadn’t had the time to get particularly far away from Alistair, so it wasn’t a difficult job to reach the bludger before it joined the chaser part of the game. He didn’t want Valois getting his hands on his bludger. Umland was looking around at the game, hopefully distracted, and Bastien used this to his disadvantage, sending the bludger once more towards Dill. Hopefully it would hit the Aladren seeker this time, or at least distract him from the all-important snitch hunt.
Bastien let out a breath of relief as bludger possession was once more in Umland’s court. It could get tiring, this beating lark, both physically and mentally. Sébastien hadn’t had to think so tactically before in his life, and he was convinced that another couple of eyes and perhaps another arm would come in handy. He felt like he had to be looking everywhere at once, without any respite.
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<font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font>
And this is, hopefully, being distracting
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<font color='red'>Sébastien Évreux, Beater</font>
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Clark Dill
February 03, 2017 4:32 PM
Out of time but posting anyway by Clark Dill
Upon looking around, Clark smiled at what he found - Alistair was below the altitude of the Chasers which meant he had followed, at least for a little while, and the bludger was heading his way. Excellent. All his goals had been achieved then. Alistair had followed, and John had returned the bludger to him.Clark continued to climb higher, keeping tabs on Sebastien as the most likely culprit to send a bludger back Clark's way, but mostly looking for the snitch. It was probably still too early for an appearance, but it had been known to happen before and, frankly, in this rain? Clark would not mind it being over sooner rather than later. Even some Crotali might thank him for getting them inside faster.
He was less certain what Snitches thought of the rain. They were encased in metal, so they probably didn't care one way or another. He supposed it would depend on the individual snitch, whether they enjoyed reading thoughts of discomfort and wet misery or if they liked cheers and jubilation. As alien creatures who fed off the thoughts of Quidditch audiences, it could really go either way.
And, yes, there was Sebastien, right on cue, smacking the bludger Clark's way again. He pushed for more speed and changed direction to fly directly toward John, making it easier for his protector to handle the metal beast following in his wake.
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Clark Dill
Out of time but posting anyway
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Clark Dill
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