Fox
September 04, 2009 2:27 AM
Quidditch Match: Aladren vs. Crotalus by Fox
Amy drew in a breath as she silently surveyed the pitch. She had arrived early that morning, searching for some much needed solitude. The pitch had been quiet, the spectators and players still at breakfast. Gazing below her, Amy noted the Quidditch chest. The latch was still closed, the balls secured inside. As she zipped through the air, Amy ran through her options yet again.Upon returning to the world of professional Quidditch, Amy had realized that she would have difficulties dividing her time between Sonora and her team. She had attempted to do so, however, and had managed to fulfill her duties for the most part.
Things had become complicated over the holidays, however. Her relationship with Brent had moved on to the next level. Gazing at the ring that glittered on her finger, Amy sighed. The relationship had been a quiet one thus far. Although rumors had hit the newspapers, Amy and Brent had effectively kept the press at bay as they dated. When he had proposed rather unexpectedly one night, Amy had been unable to say no.
An invitation had also arrived a few days ago inviting Amy to join the American team. If she accepted, she would be required to spend nearly every waking moment preparing for the World Cup. It was an offer that was too good to turn down and she knew, as she looked out over the pitch, that her time at Sonora was coming to an end.
As the pitch began to fill, Amy flew to the ground and waited for the teams. The pitch was sprayed with the colors of the houses of Aladren and Crotalus. It took little time for the teams to prepare themselves and soon they had joined her in the center of the field. The weather was decent, if cool.
After calling the captains forward to shake hands, Amy crossed her arms as she faced the teams. "Alright folks, the same rules apply as always. The first team to catch the Snitch wins. No dirty plays and no leaving the pitch. If you are injured, the medic's tent is located on the corner of the pitch."
Moving toward the Quidditch chest, Amy opened the latch and soon released the Snitch and Bludgers into the air. Clasping the Quaffle in her hands, Amy returned to facing the teams. "At the sound of the whistle, the Quaffle will be released and the game will begin." Throwing her wand in the air, a loud wail shrilled through the pitch and she lobbed the Quaffle into the air. The game had begun.
OOC: Same rules as always. Be creative and have fun.
Subthreads: My Quidditch debut by <font color="blue">Daniel Nash II</font> with <font color="blue">Paul Tarwater, Beater</font>, <font color="blue">Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser</font>, <font color="red">Helena Layne, Chaser</font>, <font color="red">Oliver Abbott, Chaser</font>, <font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>, <font color="blue"> Grayson Wright, Keeper</font>
I wish I could fly, right up to the sky by <font color="blue"> Jera Valson, Seeker </font> with Fox
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Fox
Quidditch Match: Aladren vs. Crotalus
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Fox
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<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II</font>
September 04, 2009 11:16 AM
My Quidditch debut by <font color="blue">Daniel Nash II</font>
Daniel was oddly nervous. He'd slept fitfully the night before and he had moved more of his breakfast around his plate than he'd eaten. It wasn't stage fright. Street Beat was shown on national television, and he'd even performed live for the play last year. But acting wasn't the same as playing a sport. There was no script here, no predetermined plot twists and conclusion that Danny knew about ahead of time. He had no better idea of what was about to happen than the people in the audience.It was disconcerting. He could handle losing if he knew about it ahead of time. Nate hadn't always (or even often) come out ahead of things on the show. It was the unpredictability that was turning his stomach in knots. Daniel didn't like unpredictable.
The first bit was reliable enough. He got to the field, checked over his new broom that he'd bought over midterm, listened to Geoff and to the Coach (he was a little relieved by her over-simplification of the rules that took all pressure of the Chasers and laid the full responsibility for the game's outcome on the seekers - not that he'd ever heard of a school game having a high enough score differential that the 150 points for the snitch didn't make the decision anyway), and then the whistle blew.
Nerves and the startling sound launched Daniel up into the air faster than he thought he would have able to do if it had been on purpose. Already in the air, Daniel was surprised to find the quaffle right in front of him, but trained instinct from half a year of practice had him grabbing hold of it.
Good Lord. He, the youngest player on the nerdy team, had possession of the Quaffle right from the get-go. Talk about unpredictability.
Rising up to the normal playing altitude at an angle that also brought him toward the Crotalus goals, Daniel looked around trying to spot his teammates and opposing chasers, and then estimated trajectories and probabilities for optimal Aladren success. He reached the conclusion that his best option was to pass.
He threw the Quaffle toward the blue clad chaser that Daniel thought most able to catch it at their current velocities and relative positions.
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<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II</font>
My Quidditch debut
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<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II</font>
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<font color="blue">Paul Tarwater, Beater</font>
September 05, 2009 11:11 PM
My flight of shame by <font color="blue">Paul Tarwater, Beater</font>
Quidditch. Paul wasn’t that happy to be there.But, as he proved time and time again, he disliked change so much that he stuck with it. Hands in the pockets of his robes, face down on the ground, he didn’t want to look at anyone on his team. What could they think if he caught an eye? Oh, that Paul Tarwater who hit the Quaffle instead of the Bludger last year. Oh, that idiot. He had been pleasantly surprised to get away from Anne last year without much explosion, but he still did not want to go through that again. Oh Paul Tarwater, you idiot would be the thought if he messed up again.
He resented being called an idiot though, even if it was from an imaginary group of people. All he had to do was keep his head up and his eyes clear. Bludger, not Quaffle, Bludger. He was fairly descent as a Beater if he did everything right. Of course, Paul failed number one by not really listening if Layne was saying anything before game. He also still refused to look at anyone still. The only thing jarring him from his complete fascination with the ground was the whistle starting the game.
He mounted. He took off. Holding the splintery Beater’s bat so tightly that he felt the slivers of wood start embedding themselves in his hand. Bludger, not Quaffle, Bludger. And there was one. A Bludger, not a Quaffle. Quaffles belonged to Chasers and Keepers. This was a Bludger, heavy metal black ball that he was supposed to hit at the people in red.
Things were so much simpler if your broke them down into the most basic of terms.
Flying, black, metal ball plus thick, splintery, wooden stick plus red equaled Paul Tarwater being right. And Paul Tarwater liked being right. Breaking it down, right equaled good. Wrong equaled idiot. Idiot equaled very, very bad. Basic terms down, Paul Tarwater hit this Bludger, looking for the red blur to hit it at. Red Chaser, red Seeker, they were all the same right now. Paul just hit this Bludger, hoping for a hit. Or a crack, red plus Bludger plus cracking also equaled good.
Paul was getting a little happier about being there.
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<font color="blue">Paul Tarwater, Beater</font>
My flight of shame
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<font color="blue">Paul Tarwater, Beater</font>
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<font color="blue">Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser</font>
September 07, 2009 12:05 AM
Another debut by <font color="blue">Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser</font>
Rationality, to Thomas, was a high virtue. It was much more likely to yield an accurate result to a problem it was applied to than emotions were, and accuracy was important.Like everything else, though, it had a downside. The issue with being strictly rational was that an objective analysis of the facts seldom, if ever, yielded encouraging results. This failure of the system felt very apparent as Thomas took stock of the Quidditch team he’d joined, took stock of the team they were playing against, and came to the one logical conclusion he could see: they were going to lose.
Aladren had nothing going for it. They were going in with a first-time captain, three new Chasers, and a new Keeper who was half-blind and as likely as not to fall off his broom or miss easy goals because he paid less attention to the Quaffle than he did his thoughts on physics. The Crotali also had a new captain, but since he figured it would only put her team in an even more murderous frame of mind if Geoff succeeded in cracking his sister’s skull, Thomas couldn’t really count Helena as an exploitable weakness.
Jera, who’d lost and somehow lived to tell about it last year, was the team’s only chance. If she could catch the Snitch quickly, then they’d be saved from looking like complete idiots in public. After that awful incident with a Beater hitting the Quaffle last year, the Hawks were a team in need of some serious image reformation. Jera could help there.
As all the customary pre-game speeches were given, he wondered if she was feeling the pressure of that. There was a reason he’d never had a flicker of interest in playing Seeker; the job was just too stressful to be even mildly enjoyable for him, and he felt a lot of respect for anyone with the nerve to try it.
Upon liftoff, Daniel managed to get the Quaffle. Thomas flew to cover him, which worked out well when the younger boy passed the Quaffle in his direction. Catching it, he rose higher to avoid a Crotalus chaser and headed for the Crotalus goals.
Since it wasn’t wise to hang onto the Quaffle for any extended length of time – it made him a better target for Bludgers, and while he knew losing Geoffrey Spindler had weakened the Crotalus Chasing squad, two of its three members were still more experienced than all three Hawks put together – he himself was soon looking for an opportunity to pass the ball off to one of his teammates. Spotting such an opportunity in a reasonably timely manner, he took aim and threw the red ball toward the nearest blue Chaser he could see.
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<font color="blue">Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser</font>
Another debut
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<font color="blue">Thomas Fitzgerald,Chaser</font>
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<font color="red">Helena Layne, Chaser</font>
September 07, 2009 10:37 PM
My moderately glorious return. by <font color="red">Helena Layne, Chaser</font>
In some quarters of Sonora, it was considered blasphemous to see Quidditch as less than a matter of life and death. If that was so, Helena supposed she'd already picked up a one-way ticket to hell a long time ago, because her grade in Transfiguration was a lot more central to her personal happiness than Alexis' ability to catch the Snitch. She'd always enjoyed the game, and she didn't regret playing it for the past six years, but - it was a game. There would be life after it, win or lose.With the exception of her very first game at Sonora, where she'd been suffering more from stage fright than anything, this philosophy had let her keep a level head about things while going into games. If she occasionally suspected that it played a role in her not being quite as good at Chasing as Oliver and Geoffrey had been, well, at least she wasn't sitting around borderline-catatonic after she lost the way Anne used to. Now that she'd become a captain, though, she suddenly found that winning mattered more than it ever had before, and she didn't like it.
For that reason (well, among others), she would have given anything she owned for Geoffrey to come back at the moment she was put on the spot for a speech. He was good at this, and the rival captain wasn't his over-competitive brother. Since he showed no signs of obliging her, though, she made up her mind to do the best she could. There didn't seem to be any alternative.
"All right," she said briskly, clasping her hands together in front of her and almost immediately loosening them. "We all know what we're doing by now, so I'm not going to talk forever and bore you all. Just remember about blocking the Seeker and listening for Bludgers, and we should be fine." This felt like a drastic over-simplification, but that was the gist of it. "Aladren's weak right now, so don't let my brother intimidate you with his badges. I know that we can do this." She had wondered if she should tell them, ahead of time, that it would be okay if they lost, but had finally decided it would be bad for morale. "So, good luck to everyone and let's go!"
Leading a team out was a bit uncomfortable, but not nearly as dramatic as she'd feared and half-expected. It was just a walk across the Pitch for the most part, with just a bit of a complication existing in the urge to look around over her shoulder because she felt like she was being watched - which she was. She wasn't sure if that fact made it better or worse. Another oddity was the traditional handshake the captains engaged in; she'd never shaken her brother's hand in her life, and it was a bit surreal to do so now.
"You're going to lose," he informed her pleasantly. She did not miss his failure to try to break her hand, which Helena had assumed was part of the ritual. Idiot.
She smiled just as pleasantly. "We'll see," she said, and laughed at his sudden look of irritation.
Thankfully, Coach Fox kept her speech brief. Nerves were on the point of setting in for real, making Helena a little on the jumpy side. It was easier to keep a grip in the air, in which she had more to do and less time to think about it.
Aladren took the Quaffle, but Helena saw no reason to feel discouraged by that. Aladren often took the Quaffle first, but Crotalus tended to take it away from them very quickly and then not to give it back. A Bludger prevented her from taking the Quaffle when the first Chaser passed it, but it was in motion again soon and the second Aladren Chaser was less lucky; when he passed it, she managed to intercept it en route to its intended target.
She turned in a wide arc to avoid one of the Aladrens and began to speed back down the Pitch, trusting the training of her teammates to bring them into formation. Seeing one of the other red uniforms to her left, she quickly passed the Quaffle off. While she didn't have the best record on that front, it was unavoidable - anyone who tried to hold onto the Quaffle all the way down the Pitch would have an experienced pair of Beaters reducing him or her to mush - and she'd gotten them far enough down the field for there to be a good chance of reclaiming the Quaffle pre-goal if Aladren did manage to intercept it.
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<font color="red">Helena Layne, Chaser</font>
My moderately glorious return.
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<font color="red">Helena Layne, Chaser</font>
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<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II, Chaser</font>
September 08, 2009 2:44 PM
My less than stellar interception by <font color="blue">Daniel Nash II, Chaser</font>
Thomas caught his pass. Daniel was a little impressed by the Aladren team. So far, so good. He hadn't really expected them to be so clean. The Chasers, at least, were largely all beginners. Thomas passed as well, but this time Crotalus stepped in. Daniel muttered under his breath, grabbed hold of his broom's handle and yanked it around in as tight a turn as he could pull off.Racing back toward the Aladren side, he leaned forward to get as little air resistance as possible and tried to close in on Helena Layne and her teammates. He saw her make her own pass.
Daniel managed to get himself in between the two chasers, but his timing was off. When he reached for the Quaffle, it wasn't quite there yet. He sailed between the Crotali, but his fingers only barely brushed against the ball he'd meant to claim possession of. At the last moment of contact, he gave it a bit of a push, hopefully knocking it off target and making the Crotalus Chasers at least work for it if they kept control of the Quaffle.
With even more luck, he might have bumped enough out of the way that another Aladren could pick it up.
In the mean time, he was going to have make another turn before he could figure out what was going on behind him. He yanked his broom handle up and to the right and went about doing just that.
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<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II, Chaser</font>
My less than stellar interception
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<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II, Chaser</font>
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<font color="red">Oliver Abbott, Chaser</font>
September 11, 2009 7:36 AM
Thanks for that by <font color="red">Oliver Abbott, Chaser</font>
Quidditch could do strange things to a person. The pre-game butterflies were expected and accepatble, but Oliver was feeling oddly protective over his younger sister, an emotion that didn't raise its head very often and so was surprising when it did. At least on this occasion Oliver could identify the logical cause for his older brother instincts: Charlotte was playing with him today, on the Crotalus team. Helena, on the other hand, was playing against her brother, Captain against Captain. That really took sibling rivalry way too far. On the other hand, it might work in their favor - Helena might really want to beat Geoff. As Oliver headed down to the pitch, it occurred to him this game had a strong family feel to it; not only were the Laynes going head to head, and the Abbotts playing together for the first time, but they had the Warrens on the Crotalus side, too, beating together like pros. They had a strong team - especially compared to the mis-match of Aladrens, a side that looked as though its Chasers, Keeper and Seeker had simply picked the short straw (or lost an academic competition? - it was Aladren, after all) and just happened to end up on the team. Layne - Geoffrey - was going to be hanging his head by the end of the day.The only shot the Aladren team had was their Seeker. Oliver thought the Warrens were sporting enough to try and take out the Headmistress' daughter, but Geoff Layne might try even harder to protect her - as a Beater it was his job, and as the Head Boy he might feel an extra obligation. Alexis... well, if she wasn't a team member Oliver might be forced to try and take the girl out himself. She wasn't quite as weird as many of the other fourth year girls, but she was of the same type. She had caught the Snitch before, and nobody else had wanted the spot - Oliver hoped she'd been practising. Even if the Crotalus Chasers scored fourteen goals, which hadn't happened in Sonora history, it wouldn't stop them from losing if Aladren got the Snitch.
Coach Fox kept the speech short. Within no time, Oliver had mounted his broom, glanced briefly at his sister, and kicked off into the air. That Aladren kid his sister was crushing on somehow managed to get the ball first, but that didn't matter - if he and Helena couldn't steal the ball back from a group of newbie Chasers then they desereved to lose. Sure enough, Helena had the quaffle within moments. About to head on over, Oliver had to dodge a speeding bludger coming his way. By the time he'd turned his attention back to the game, Helena was passing across to Charlie - except they hadn't noticed that Aladren kid was going to get in their way. Dropping below the other players, Oliver sped forwards to block the kid in and steal the quaffle back, when he noticed the ball wasn't in possession at all. Ha! Reaching up, Oliver took the Quaffle under his arm and returned to playing height, with one red chaser on either side. Continuing towards the goal guarded by some relative or other of Anne Wright, Oliver knew by now not to hang onto the quaffle for too long. Glancing over each shoulder, he decided to pass to his sister. She'd impressed him so far in practises - he only hoped her skills stayed in tact during game play.
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<font color="red">Oliver Abbott, Chaser</font>
Thanks for that
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<font color="red">Oliver Abbott, Chaser</font>
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<font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>
September 11, 2009 7:49 AM
This is called working as a team by <font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>
The morning of her first Quidditch game, Charlotte spent a really long time looking at herself in the mirror. Her Quidditch robes were a little big, and red with silver was not a color scheme she would have chosen for herself. She didn't look too bad - she looked like part of the team. She'd braided her hair back so it stayed out of her face, and she'd put on the tiniest touch of mascara - people would be watching her, and she might get really close to those Aladren Chasers. It wouldn't do to look a mess. All in all, Charlie was content with the image starting back at her. It wasn't the ballet tights and pink tutu that she ultimately preferred, but her dancing background helped her keep balance on the broom, and playing Quidditch had strengthened her arm and abdominal muscles. The two pastimes had so far complimented each other... Charlotte just prayed a speeding bludger wouldn't put an end to that. What if she broke a toe? Or worse - it hit her face? She'd have to give up dancing for good. It was almost enough to make her quit the team right there and then. The fact that Oliver would kill her was enough to push that thought right from her mind.Psyching herself up, Charlotte collected one of the better school brooms (she was going to buy one with her Christmas money but got pointe shoes instead) and met the rest of the team on the pitch. It was nice, Charlie thought, doing something recreational with her brother. True, she and Oliver had played video games together all midterm, but this was different - they were o the same team. It rocked.
While the Coach was talking, Charlotte looked over at the Aladren team. She wasn't scared by them - mostly they were hot. She'd kissed one of them - no, must focus on Quidditch. The siren sounded, the quaffle went up and Charlie wasn't surprised that she didn't get to it first. She stayed focussed though, and was ready to receive the quaffle when Helena passed. Shoot! Daniel had gone and - oh, it was okay. Oliver had the ball. Torn between grinning because Crotalus still had the ball and being annoyed at herself for allowing the pass to be intercepted, Charlie followed her brother up the pitch. This time, she was ready when he passed to her. She caught the quaffle, wobbled a bit on her broom as she tucked it under her elbow, and sped onwards towards those hoops. She wasn't going to try to score - not only because she lacked that sort of confidence in herself, but also because she might be just too far away. The Crotalus Chasers had a clear policy: don't carry the Quaffle too long. It was best not to draw the attention of the opposing Beaters. So when she felt steady, Charlie passed back to a teammate.
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<font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>
This is called working as a team
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<font color="red">Charlotte Abbott, Chaser</font>
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<font color="red">Oliver Abbott, Chaser</font>
September 11, 2009 8:09 AM
And this is called scoring (fingers crossed) by <font color="red">Oliver Abbott, Chaser</font>
Credit where it was due: Charlotte wasn't half bad at Quidditch. It wasn't her first love, Oliver knew. Not like him, who could live and breathe Quidditch if he had to and be quite happy about that, Charlie was mostly into her dancing. Oliver had been dragged to recitals every year of his life that he could remember. This - this was much better. If she proved to be a good Chaser this year, the two of them could play on the team together for the next two years, until Oliver left Sonora. After that, as much as he would hold a fondness for Crotalus forever, he secretly didn't care what Charlie decided to do - she could go back to being a ballerina, just as long as Oliver didn't have to see another show as long as he lived. For now, though, they were playing Quidditch together, and playing it well. Charlie passed the quaffle right back to him, and Oliver caught it with little trouble - the shot was only a tiny bit off target. Oliver caught the ball with out-stretched arms, and brought it back closer to his body as he considered his next move.The hoops were right there - Grayson Wright was all that was between Oliver and scoring Crotalus' first goal of the game (first of many, if he got his way). Sure, the Keeper might look like a geeky kid, but Oliver had looked along those lines himself not all that long ago. His first Quidditch game he'd been as daunting as a puffskein, he was sure. They could be more than meets the eye. Plus this kid was a relative of Anne Wright, unrivalled Quidditch maniac. Then there was the fact that these Aladrens were smart - they might even be calculating velocity and resistance when they passed the Quaffle for all Oliver knew. Lot of good it did them, though - their opposing team was so about to score.
With a strong fake towards the right-most hoop, Oliver took up the Quaffle with both hands and threw from his chest towards the middle hoop. Feinting was as likely as not in Quidditch, but it was a tried and practised method: it tended to have a fairly high success rate. As the ball sailed through the air, Oliver hoped Wright Miniature was going to let it stay on course. Let it go in Oliver thought. Charlie would only rib him about it later if his shot was caught by a fourth year Aladren.
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<font color="red">Oliver Abbott, Chaser</font>
And this is called scoring (fingers crossed)
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<font color="red">Oliver Abbott, Chaser</font>
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<font color="blue"> Jera Valson, Seeker </font>
September 20, 2009 6:36 AM
I wish I could fly, right up to the sky by <font color="blue"> Jera Valson, Seeker </font>
Had she ever really imagined herself as the sporty type? No, not really. Jera loved to go on walks and explore, and she could never feel at home anywhere except for those beautiful Rockies, yet she still thought of herself as more of an indoor sort of girl: the quiet, bookish type, taking things apart just to see how they worked. So why was she still on the Quidditch team? One reason was House pride; the feeling of belonging could be quite overpowering in the right circumstances, and there was no way Jera - or any other Aladren, she was sure - would be happy for their Quidditch team to be a player down. Another reason was to try her hand at everything. Jera's parents had always encouraged her to be well-rounded, insisting she didn't knock anything until she'd tried it. Having tried Quidditch, Jera found it wasn't all that bad. Therefore, there was now a third reason: she might actually be getting good at this. Weekly practises and occasional games over two years now, Jera wasn't a genius on a broom by any means, but she had the odd trick or two up her sleeve. Nothing fancy - she was as calm a flier as an individual - but enough that she thought she stood a chance of beating the Crotalus Seeker to the Snitch. That was an improvement, for sure.So as Jera waited with her teammates, with whom she could confess to sharing peaceful, contented acquaintancy, if not yet friendship, she wasn't as nervous as she had been in similar situations previously. Grasping her broom handle tightly, Jera let the gentle breeze soothe residual butterflies as Coach Fox delivered her pre-game talk. Then, within no time at all, everyone was up in the air. Whoosh! Jera took to the sky like a bird that had been caged too long. She rose high up above the other players, and did a large, looping cirlce of the pitch, getting a feel for the game. From thereon in her job was simple: find the Snitch, don't get hit by bludgers. Easy.
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<font color="blue"> Jera Valson, Seeker </font>
I wish I could fly, right up to the sky
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<font color="blue"> Jera Valson, Seeker </font>
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<font color="blue"> Grayson Wright, Keeper</font>
September 20, 2009 10:08 PM
You have an unfortunate grasp of terminology. by <font color="blue"> Grayson Wright, Keeper</font>
He was insane. That was all there was to it. Forget therapy; he needed to be committed to the nearest asylum before he did irreparable damage to himself or others. There was no other explanation for his behavior.Normally, Gray would have reasoned that thinking this way – that he was insane – meant he was actually still in his right mind, but his attention span was too short to accommodate logic at the moment. It was a lapse he felt he could be forgiven for, since he was probably only a short distance away from finding out all the details of what went on after death.
It didn’t make it better that Anne had sent him a good-luck card. That might have had something to do with the fact that he’d read what she’d written inside as a veiled threat against his life if Aladren lost. To think he’d been under the impression she was getting better just a few months ago. That should teach him about trusting his perceptions.
He didn’t eat much at breakfast, talk much to anyone, or pay a lot of attention to anything Layne said. Coach Fox didn’t get as much of his regard as she normally would have, either, because Gray was putting a huge majority of his brain to the task of ignoring the Crotalus team. He’d never really followed Quidditch, but he knew from Anne that they were supposed to be good. That wasn’t something he wanted to think of right now.
Gray’s spirits lifted very slightly when his team got the Quaffle. He still didn’t grasp some of the finer points of the game, but he knew, as a matter of necessity, that people in blue having the red ball was a good thing. It meant the ball was heading toward the other Keeper – not him. Unfortunately, the Crotali quickly showed off that talked-of skill of theirs and took it away, and despite Daniel’s best effort to reverse things, the Crotali kept the ball all the way down the Pitch.
He’d always figured he would die young.
The Chaser with the Quaffle seemed to be going for the right, so Gray did, too. He realized what was really going on a little late and made a last-ditch, ill-advised effort at kicking the Quaffle away from the center hoop, but only succeeded in almost unseating himself. Once the issue there was corrected, he had no desire whatsoever to take a hand off the broom, but there was no time to think about it, the game went too quickly; he just had to swoop around the goals, grab the Quaffle, and throw it back toward Aladren as if nothing had happened.
Of course, something had happened, and it wasn’t good. If Layne and the Crotali didn’t kill him, Anne would. To him, Aladren was just his dormitory. To her, it was religion – or worse. At times, a careful listener could almost think she thought of her House as her family. And everyone knew what Easterners did to people they felt dishonored their families….
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<font color="blue"> Grayson Wright, Keeper</font>
You have an unfortunate grasp of terminology.
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<font color="blue"> Grayson Wright, Keeper</font>
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<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II, Chaser</font>
September 21, 2009 8:55 AM
The Show Must Go On by <font color="blue">Daniel Nash II, Chaser</font>
By the time Daniel figured out that his botched attempt at an interception did not managed to deprive Crotalus of the Quaffle, it was too late to make another try before the ball was flying toward, and then past, Grayson Wright and scoring the first points of the game for Crotalus. It wasn't totally unexpected. The Crots did have experience on the Aladrens in both Chasing and Keeping. He still wasn't real happy about this turn of events.Grayson threw the Quaffle back out into play and Daniel caught it again. Not sparing a thought to how it kept ending up in his possession, he turned about and started flying as fast as his brand new broom could take him away from the dangerous Aladren goals while still avoiding getting too close to the red clad Chasers of the other team.
Once he was a fair way across the Pitch, just barely past the midpoint into Crotalus territory, he decided the Quaffle was getting too hot to keep handling himself. He caught the eye of the nearest blue Chaser, nodded confirmation that he was indeed about to pass, and then did so. He threw the Quaffle to his teammate with all the skill of a mediocre basketball player. He'd never been bad at sports back at his muggle school, but he was under no illusions that he'd ever been really good either. He seemed to be carrying on at the same level of skill here.
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<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II, Chaser</font>
The Show Must Go On
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<font color="blue">Daniel Nash II, Chaser</font>
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<font color="blue"> Jera Valson, Seeker </font>
September 27, 2009 9:52 AM
And Catch the Snitch - Yessss! by <font color="blue"> Jera Valson, Seeker </font>
As Jera whiled away the minutes searching for the Snitch, she became aware of the lack of bludgers so far into the game. Either the Crotalus beaters were cutting her some slack (which didn't seem likely - the Warrens were not noted for their compassion on the pitch) or Geoff and Paul were doing a good job of keeping them away. Perhaps that was it, because it wasn't long at all into the game before crotalus scored already. Jera heard half the crowd cheer and she pursed her lips as she flew over the game. She supposed it was only to be expected; Crotalus did have the more experienced team.With a new burst of determination, Jera kept looking for the Snitch with one eye, but turned her attention a little to find the Crotalus Seeker, at the other end of the pitch. It was about equally as usual to see Seekers so far apart as close together. Jera considered it was up to chance whether the Snitch made itself known closest to you or to your opponent. Yet if she were vigilant, perhaps she would see it first, anyway?
Tilting her broom up higher, Jera did another circle of the pitch, and a double-take as she saw a golden glint next to the near-side middle goal hoop. Surely that couldn't... But maybe? the Quaffle was heading back down the pitch, so Jera took her chances and swooped down closer to the hoop. Yes! It was the Snitch, and the other Seeker was miles away. Barely believeing her luck, Jera flew right through the centre hoop, probably giving Gray a real start, and caught the tiny golden ball in her hand on the way. "Yes!" With a high-pitched and excited sqeak, Jera held the tiny ball abover her head and did a quick victory lap. They may have been a mis-match team, but the game was quick, and Aladren had won!
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<font color="blue"> Jera Valson, Seeker </font>
And Catch the Snitch - Yessss!
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<font color="blue"> Jera Valson, Seeker </font>
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