Aladren Quidditch Team on Aladren Commons

Anne Wright

April 09, 2006 3:14 PM

Aladren Quidditch Team by Anne Wright

Anne had divided her two weeks at Magnolia Grove three ways: suffering through social and family gatherings, going over her first-semester notes and worrying about things she thought she'd done wrong on her midterms, and working on things related to the Quidditch team. One of the ones that had taken up the most of that third of her time was the list of prospective players, two names longer than the previous year's and taken off the announcement board by her the day before the term ended. Aunt Sarah, of course, had been absolutely horrified that she hadn't taken everything those W.A.I.L. people said straight to heart, but keeping Sarah St.Martin happy was as far down her list of priorities as it had ever been. Besides, she wasn't especially fond of guys or girls and still failed to see what playing a game had to do with it anyway.

Finally, though, it had been the thought that she might get fired that galvanized her into making up her mind. She was, at the end of the day, the captain. Quidditch wasn't about making friends for anyone, but especially not the captain. The whole point of the thing was to win and, if she discovered she'd botched it, to revamp as quickly as possible and then go win something else. She'd done the best she could do, realistically, when the time frame she had to work with and the number of people signed up were taken into consideration. If people didn't like that, well, they just didn't like it and that was that. They could suck it up or get off her team.

The notice was posted exactly where the sign-up sheet had been, leaving the way open for confusion, but she hadn't been able to think of anywhere else to put it. Hopefully the players would notice that the entire thing was now in one handwriting and pay more attention to stuff on the noticeboard than just paper placement.

Attention, Aladren Quidditch Prospects,

This year's team is as follows:

Anne Wright: Chaser/Captain
Zoey Welsh: Chaser
Ben Stafford: Chaser
Zack Dill: Seeker
Bella Santoro: Beater
Geoffrey Layne: Beater
Chris Dupree: Keeper

Devian Dupree: Reserve player

This list is based on last year's sign-ups, the order of this year's sign-ups, and my knowledge of prior flying/playing experience of the applicants. If there is any question about this or your position, you can send it in writing to the second year's girl's dormitories, or you can just come see me. There may be some room for compromise on some positions.

Regards,

Anne \n\n

16 Anne Wright Aladren Quidditch Team 59 Anne Wright 1 5

Zack Dill

April 13, 2006 5:54 PM

pre-game jitters without the pre-game by Zack Dill

Zack had been keeping an eye on the message board (this had more to do with the fact that he had two notices offering tutoring and homework assistance than because he was compulsively waiting for word on Quidditch, but he did watch that list, too). He'd been aware there were no other people signed up for Seeker this year, but when Anne's Roster came out, he was still shocked to see his name following that highly important position.

"Force," he swore, half in awe, half in terror (he was in Alderaan, it was only appropriate to curse in Star Wars slang). Somehow, even with the lack of other Seekers, he had still expected to be cut. There were eight people signed up, and Ben had tried for Seeker last year, before the aliens invaded.

But there it was in black and white. Zack Dill: Seeker

He wasn't supposed to make the team. He was the wimpy geek kid who got used as the ball, not the one placed in the most critical position on a Quidditch team. Catching the snitch was worth 150 points and ended the game. It was increadibly rare, especially at school level games, for that not to be completely decisive in the favor of the team with the snitch-catching Seeker.

"Oh, Go- Great Maker," he swore again, terror taking over much of the awe and cold sweat breaking out all over him. "I can't do this. I can't - I'm gonna die, I'm gonna lose, I'm gonna - I'm gonna hurl."

But he didn't run to the nearest toilet. His body had other plans. Fortunately, it was currently against expelling the contents of his stomach. Instead, his panic eclipsed his consciousness, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he folded down onto the floor in front of the bulletin board in a dead faint.

He regained consciousness moments later, having blacked out just long enough not to feel the sharp pain of landing, but there was residual fading soreness on his elbow and another pain on the back of his head, which he guessed were the points of impact. He sat up, a little groggy, and rubbed at the latter injury. Opening his eyes, he found himself looking into an obviously concerned face.

"I'm fine," he promised, not sure if he was telling the truth or not. He didn't think he had a concussion, anyway.

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1 Zack Dill pre-game jitters without the pre-game 40 Zack Dill 0 5

Sally Porter

April 16, 2006 11:25 AM

At least you're getting them over with by Sally Porter

There were many things that could disturb the silence that usually descended upon the Aladren common room. Arguments about charms theory, for example, or exuberant discussions about the latest video game craze (there were reasons they were thought of as the nerdiest house in Sonora). One soon learned to tune those out. However, the sound of someone hitting the floor was not one that was familiar to most members of the house.

For Sally Porter, the sound could not have come at a more inopportune moment. She had been lazing in one of the armchairs scattered around the room, reading a mystery/thriller novel one of her sisters had sent, and just as she had reached the climax of the book, a crash happened, and she jumped about five feet in the air. However, after a few seconds of heavy breathing, she realized that it hadn’t come from some homicidal psychopath, and looked around to see just who had caused it.

To her surprise, Zack Dill was lying on the floor, looking like he had fainted, or something along those lines. Sally immediately dropped the book and hurried over towards the bulletin board. Kneeling down beside him, she hesitated, not entirely sure what you were supposed to do with someone who fainted. Was it elevate the legs, or create a tourniquet…

Luckily, Zack regained consciousness around that time, saving her from having to make any decisions. First aid had never been her strong point, but she was the only one in here, and she figured she was probably better than nothing. “Are you sure?” she asked as soon as he attempted to reassure her that he was okay. “You still look pretty pale, and you sounded like you hit the ground pretty hard. How many fingers am I holding up?” she finished, holding up her thumb and her index finger.
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0 Sally Porter At least you're getting them over with 0 Sally Porter 0 5

Zack

April 20, 2006 9:16 AM

You're assuming this will only happen once. by Zack

Zack blinked and focused on the face. Ah. Sally. He knew Sally. Sally was in his year. Sally, um, something that started with a P and was a profession. Potter? Painter? Porter? Yes. Porter. That was it. Sally Porter. He knew Sally. Sally was in his year.

"Are you sure?" Sally asked. Zack blinked owlishly at her. Sure about what? She didn't seem sure about whatever it was. "You still look pretty pale, and you sounded like you hit the ground pretty hard."

Oh. Yeah. His head hurt. He rubbed at it. He'd probably said he was fine but he couldn't for the life of him remember doing so. That was probably bad.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Sally asked. His vision swam a little disturbingly when he turned to look at her hand.

He blinked until the image in front of him solidified, then he frowned. "That is a trick question," he informed her. "You are holding up one finger and one thumb." He rubbed at his head again. It hurt, probably not bad enough to be a concussion, but pretty sore.

There was a hand in front of him, holding up one finger and one thumb. He'd probably been asked how many fingers were being held up. The person doing so was trying to trick him, though. But he was cleverer than that. "One finger and one thumb," he told the person. "I'm not falling for that trick question."

He looked up at the person's face, and his vision went a little blurry. When it stopped swimming, he recognized Sally. He knew Sally. Sally was in his year. Sally, um, something that started with a P and was a profession. Potter? Painter? Porter? Yes. Porter. That was it. "I'm fine," he said. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt the need to say that. He . . . his head hurt. He rubbed at it.

He was sitting on the floor. That was weird. He didn't remember sitting on the floor. And that was Sally next to him. He knew Sally. Sally was in his year. Sally, um, something that started with a P and was a profession.

Something about that train of thought seemed very familiar.

"I think maybe I should go to the infirmary."

\n\n

0 Zack You're assuming this will only happen once. 0 Zack 0 5

Sally

April 25, 2006 5:02 PM

Hmm...good point by Sally

When Zach initially responded to her question, she figured he was probably alright. After all, most people wouldn't bother to say that it was a trick question. She probably wouldn't have either. The fact that he remembered to be that detail-specific was a good sign.

Of course, she was proven wrong a few seconds later, when he repeated himself. She might know next-to-nothing about medical stuff, but even she knew it was a really bad sign when one didn't remember what one had said a few minutes before.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," she replied to his final statement, casting another look around the common room. While Zack was probably scrawny enough not to require more than one person to help him get to the infirmary, she still would have prefered to have one more person, in case he blacked out again. But there was no one else there, so she turned back to the boy.

"I can help you get there, if you want. Actually, it would probably be a bad idea even if you don't want me to help you to let you go off by yourself, so I guess you're kinda stuck with me." She shrugged, and then got up off the floor, holding out a hand to help Zack to his feet, if he could manage that much. \n\n

0 Sally Hmm...good point 0 Sally 0 5

Zack Dill

June 08, 2006 7:18 PM

I always make good points by Zack Dill

Zack gratefully let Sally help him to his feet. His vision completely fuzzed away like a staticy TV screen, and while he was pretty sure he could fix the TV, his head was a little beyond even his capabilities. He was willing to admit that, now, because getting so dizzy you couldn't even see was definitely bad. Not to mention, he had about 90% percent of his weight leaning on Sally. No, he was still mostly upright, so it was probably closer to 45%. Which meant it was approximately 40 pounds of force he was putting on her. Which meant . . . he couldn't remember what he was trying to prove.

But hey! He could see again. And that was Sally he was leaning pretty heavily on. Sally P-Something that was a profession. Potter, Painter, Porter, yes, Porter. Sally Porter. She was in his year and she could support forty pounds of, um, wait, there was something he was supposed to be remembering. His head hurt. He rubbed at it, but that didn't make his thoughts swim around any less.

Something wasn't right. His head hurt, he couldn't think straight, he was leaning really heavily on Sally, and there was something he needed to remember. "I think maybe I should go to the infirmary," he told her. He tried to take a step away from her but his vision when staticky and he had to grip her tightly to keep from falling. "Think maybe you should come along, too."

OOC: Want to meet me there?\n\n

1 Zack Dill I always make good points 40 Zack Dill 0 5