There better be a good reason for the hold-up... on Quidditch Pitch

Tristan Volkmann

June 12, 2010 5:37 PM

There better be a good reason for the hold-up... by Tristan Volkmann

It occurred to Tristan, as he was zooming over the stands at breakneck speed, how much he had missed this particular Quidditch Pitch. The one he had at home as well as the one his grandparents, the Georgia Volkmanns, had made to accommodate his favorite hobby were much smaller even though he still practiced at either location everyday during break. Their smaller scale was probably because of the higher risk of muggles noticing the strange activity. A stadium, no matter the size or location, generally got some muggle foot traffic for reasons ranging from being lost to be foolishly curious. But even the carefully hidden pitch he practiced at when he was in a private league for kids before attending Sonora didn’t catch much of his attention. What then, he wondered, made this particular pitch so special?

Wanting to figure it out, the Quidditch enthusiast slowed down to a stop, hovering in the air as he stared off at the goals in a trance. In his home in New York he had worn long sleeves with sweater vests and scarves during the holidays, but here he was quick to embrace the less stifling clothing. He felt more comfortable flying in his short sleeved electric blue shirt and long khaki jean shorts with his slightly worn gray sneakers then he had in his winter coats.

His dark skin had missed the feel of a hot sun in warm weather, severe enough to keep the temperature up but not quite enough to draw out any sweat. Maybe that’s why he liked this pitch more – he always agreed with the weather, even when it was stormy.

He gave a crooked smile and flexed a hand over his short hair, glad he had answered his own question. Really, he was such a genius sometimes. If only his professors knew just how brilliant he was, maybe they wouldn’t give him such low marks. He was certain they just didn’t realize he was a prodigy is all. They had no clue he was above and beyond his years, more prepared to tackle Quidditch, which was a much more immediate concern of his. It should be everyone’s, but they’d come to realize that on their own, he was certain of it.

Feeling he was ready to move on from warming up, Tristan soared to the ground and got a Quaffle out of the bag he had in the middle of the field. It had been one of his Christmas presents from Tyrone since his others were worn down, and it even had his name engraved on it in a thin gold font. It was pretty girly with all the loops in the letters, but it was still cool to look at. He tapped his wand against it so that it may fly on its own accord, making it something like a slower Snitch, and he let go. He held his hand out for his broom to meet his waiting palm and turned around to take off after the ball.

What he had expected to see was his Quaffle zipping around the air. What he hadn’t expected to see was someone holding it between their hands and keeping it from flying away. What were they doing holding onto it like that? Did they want it or something? “Uh, can I help you?” he asked, giving them a suspicious once-over. If they were thinking about stealing his new Quaffle, they better think again.

0 Tristan Volkmann There better be a good reason for the hold-up... 0 Tristan Volkmann 1 5

Demelza Eagle

June 16, 2010 9:42 PM

What hold-up? by Demelza Eagle

Demelza was excited for the last Quidditch Game of the year (which Pecari would be in, again!), but she also realized that she needed to practice. Actually, all of the Pecari team needed to practice more, but Demelza thought that she'd actually enjoy the extra practice. So, one morning right after the second half of term started and everyone came back from their breaks, Demelza skipped down to the pitch in her tight green tee-shirt and skinny jeans. Her mom had given them to her for Christmas, and she rather liked the design. Of course, she liked her dad's present of a new broom stick even more.

The Cleansweep 20 might not have been the best broomstick brand, but a new broom stick was way better than her old Nibus 2000! That thing was as old as dirt! It also happened to be her brother Joel's old broomstick, so her Cleensweep 20 was her first broomstick she owned that wasn't second-hand! She was still breaking it in, however, so she had been practicing much more than often. It wasn't unusual that she entered the pitch this morning.

She smiled as she notice Tristan, a first year on Pecari's Quidditch team, practicing Quidditch. He was a very good player, yes, but he had a bit too much of an ego for Demelza's taste. A little bit of humility doesn't hurt anyone, especially Tristan! His ego could be quiet annoying at times, but Demelza also could be annoying too, so she would get over Tristan. She kicked off the ground right as the Quaffle that Tristan just threw came over her head. She easily caught it and smirked at the first year. She was surprised when she saw how nice it was: definitely not one of the school's quaffles.

"So, you're practicing, I see? Awesome, I've been getting extra practice in too," Demelza chatted with Tristan. She tossed the ball back-hard-to Tristan. She figured that she could take a beak off beater practice today and have a go at chaser. It wouldn't hurt for one day, plus it would help her accuracy. It was natural for her to throw that ball harder than most chasers would because she was used to whacking bludgers as hard as she could. For a thirteen year old girl, she was very strong. It was probably due to her older brother's influence on her.

"Do you mind if I bud into your practice and pass the quaffle around with you?" She asked, a small smile worn on her face. She ran a hand through her extremely choppy, long chocolate brown hair, waiting for an answer.

0 Demelza Eagle What hold-up? 157 Demelza Eagle 0 5

Tristan

June 19, 2010 1:43 AM

Huh, you know, I can't remember what it was now... by Tristan

Names had never been something Tristan was good at recalling, so when the girl he recognized solely as his vice captain on the Quidditch team was the person who caught his Quaffle, he blanked. Admittedly he felt a bit more confident with the names of people on his Quidditch team because he paid more attention to them than to anyone else in the school, but it was still a struggle to remind himself what she was called. Worried he was looking too spaced out, he shrugged it off and decided he’d come back to that issue later. It’s not like she’d quiz him for her name, so he should be in the clear for now.

When she asked him about practicing he gave her a curt nod. Duh, he only practices every chance he gets. If she saw his awful grades she’d know how much that was true, but Tristan wasn’t about to show those off. He knew she practiced a lot too and that was enough for her to have his respect even though he didn’t know her well.

She threw his ball back at him with a lot more force than he’d been bracing himself for. His body bent forward a bit as he trapped the ball against his stomach and tried not to wince. Good thing she was a Beater for them, he didn’t want to think about what that arm would be like when it was out to get him.

When she asked to join, his face broke into an excited smile he didn’t even bother to tone down. “I’d mind if you didn’t practice with me. I had to practice by myself all during midterm, and that gets old fast.” He tossed the Quaffle back to her and got on his broom. “But I’m not about to go easy on you just because you’re second in command,” he promised, taking off high into the air and waiting for her to come up and toss it to him. Or at least wait for her to do whatever it was she’d do with it. From what he could tell, that girl wasn’t exactly predictable.

0 Tristan Huh, you know, I can't remember what it was now... 0 Tristan 0 5

Demelza

June 19, 2010 12:44 PM

Aren't I such a great distraction? by Demelza

Demelza was pleased when Tristan said that he actually wanted her practice with him. Most people might suggest that Tristan was nuts for saying that he would mind if she didn't play with him. Yeah, Demelza was a pretty good Quidditch player, and she wasn't mean, but a lot of people did't like her. But, if Tristan could deal with a loud, obnoxious second year, then him and Demelza would get along just fine.

"I had to practice alone too during midterm because it seemed I was one of only a few people that stayed," she explained to Tristan. She rolled her green/brown eyes when he said that he wouldn't go easy on her. Once again, with the ego. "Boy, who's the beater?" She asked, smirking. She knew that she could hurt Tristan very easily; just give her a club, bludger, and attitude, a BAM, you're out.

Tristan passed the ball back to Demelza and flew up high. Demelza, yearning to fly on her new, fast broom, decided that she would go for a little trip around the itch really fast before passing the quaffle back to the first year. She grinned as wind sept into her face, causing her hair to fly in all directions. Being awfully daring, she continued to move around the pitch without any hands on her broom, a trick her brothers taught her. Her brothers weren't the most mature adults/teens. She changed the direction she was fling quickly, now flying strait up. she flew above tristan, and then dropped the ball over his head. She smiled at him, and then apologized. "Sorry that I took your ball on a joy ride. I just got a new Cleansweep 20 for Christmas, you see, and I'm trying to break it in."

She really did love her new broom. She made a mental note to herself to hug her dad when she came back for summer. She had an awesome dad! He even told her that if she got all O's in her classes, then he would die her hair neon green! too bad she wasn't a smart Aldren. Her lucky little sister probably would get all O's at her school, and then her dad would die her hair blonde for her. It was his specialty. That, and making wands, obviously, for he was in that business. He made her wand for her. There were so many reasons why Demelza loved her daddy.

"So, what broom do you have there?" she asked, interested to see if her broom was better than his. She doubted it (he had his own quaffles! he must have been rich!), but you never know. He seemed to be very well off, and maybe a bit posh. Demelza wasn't posh at all. Probably the only disadvantage to a big family. But Demelza would never trade her family for the world!

0 Demelza Aren't I such a great distraction? 0 Demelza 0 5

Tristan

June 27, 2010 2:03 AM

I don’t think any distraction is great by Tristan

Tristan had been worried he would be the only person working on his game during Midterm. But if she had practiced too, then that was already one more person practicing over the holidays then he thought would. He just really wanted to remember her name! Demellon? Demelzer? He needed a lot more time and interaction with people for anything to stick, and he was still not totally sure about his roommates names. He really needed to start cluing in at practices to what everyone called each other.

He was excited to start practice until he realized it wasn’t going to be that simple. The girl didn’t seem up to jump right into things and instead flew around. He snorted and frowned, not wanting to waste any time he could be practicing spent watching her speed around. But… he did that when he got here first, so maybe she was like him. His head was only clear when it was up in the clouds, so maybe that’s how hers was to. So he didn’t complain like he had wanted to and he just watched her.

She seemed faster than she had before now that he thought about it. He looked to see if she was seated differently and noticed she was riding a fresh looking broom. He looked up as she dropped the ball to him and he caught it easy enough, listening as she spoke. She apologized for hijacking his ball before she got to the good stuff. ”I just got a new Cleansweep 20 for Christmas, you see, and I'm trying to break it in."

He was upset he hadn’t guessed that right away, but he was still shaky on broom types. His cousin was way better at telling them apart than he was. Broom types and company’s weren’t something he cared much about, since he didn’t think it mattered much if the person on it was a bad player. It’s probably why his coach had to come with him to pick out the broom to match his flying style, which he was assured was top-of-the-line. “This is a Swiftstick 45,” he told her, not knowing much else about it besides it was supposed to be good since it was expensive and all the other pureblood kids he knew back home had one. But he couldn’t tell the difference between this one and his one before it.

He darted down in the air and tossed the Quaffle back at her, hoping to make her spin fast to get used to quick turns on her broom. “So, you stayed here for Midterm?” he asked, thinking about what she said earlier. “Why would you do that? Didn’t you want to go home?”

0 Tristan I don’t think any distraction is great 0 Tristan 0 5