I'm not a Seeker, but I'll restart the section of the thread on Quidditch Pitch

Coach Amelia Pierce

September 23, 2011 12:44 PM

Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus by Coach Amelia Pierce

It was a beautiful spring day as Amelia stepped out into the center of the Pitch, the trunk of Quidditch balls floating behind her. She let the trunk settle to the ground and smiled up into the stands. The spectators were in for a good day; Aladren and Crotalus were both excellent teams and the weather was perfect for watching Quidditch. The sun was warm, fluffy white clouds kept the Pitch partially shaded, and a light breeze kept the air light and comfortable.

She watched as the two teams gathered and the Captains gave their last pre-game speeches. Both Daniel and Charlotte would be graduating at the end of the year, and Amelia expected that could very well make this match even more exciting than it had been last year.

She gave them all the time they needed for their speeches. The weather was fine so there was no hurry to finish up and escape the outdoors this time around. Once they seemed to finish up, she called them both over and announced, with the help of a Sonorus charm, "Welcome to the final game of the year, and the final game for both of our Captains, Daniel Nash of Aladren and Charlotte Abbott of Crotalus. Captains, please shake hands."

They did so, and she sent them back to their teams. She released the snitch first, and then the two bludgers, as she continued, "The game will begin on my whistle and conclude upon the catching of the snitch by one of the seekers." She picked up the Quaffle. "Three. Two. One."

Amelia threw the ball high into the air and blew into her whistle. The game was on.

Subthreads:

Lets ROCK! by Kitty McLevy – Keeper with Arthur Carey, Chaser, Captain Nash, Chaser, Sam Bauer, Chaser, Russell Layne, Chaser, Nic Sawyer, Keeper, Coach Amelia Pierce, Renée Errant {Chaser}, Charlie, Chaser, Captain, Paul Bennett, Beater, <color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color>, Coach Pierce

Seeking all the usual things. by Marissa Stephenson,Seeker with Edmond Carey, Beater, Arnold Carey, Seeker, Topher Calhoun, Beater

Recentering by Coach Pierce with Russell Layne, Chaser, Edmond Carey, Beater

1 Coach Amelia Pierce Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus 20 Coach Amelia Pierce 1 5

Kitty McLevy – Keeper

September 23, 2011 6:40 PM

Lets ROCK! by Kitty McLevy – Keeper

This was it, the final game. Crotalus wouldn’t be nearly as easy to defeat as Pecari had been, Kitty thought as she carefully braided her hair. An unusual quietness had taken the young girl as she focused on the game ahead. The image of red robed older players, experienced players, Way more experienced than me… flitted restlessly though her mind. Shaking her head, braid whipping waspishly around her heart shaped face Kitty refused to be intimidated. Aladren is the best! There’s no way we can lose!!! Kitty chanted in her mind as she swiped a streak of brilliant blue face paint under each eye.

“We Will WIN!” Kitty said fiercely to her reflection, azure eyes alight with her competitive spirit. Her worries about the Crotalus tattering like fog in a high wind as she skipped down to the Hall for breakfast. Two eggs, wheat toast, a glass of milk, and four sausage links were quickly devoured as Kitty continued to hype herself up. All though breakfast she shifted, bounced, and fidgeted, eating so fast she hardly tasted a bite of it. Sitting still had become impossible, she needed to fly to prove that she really was worth being a part of Aladren’s team. Finally the food was gone, and in an instant she was up and running, her sneaker shod feet barley touching the ground in her rush to get to the pitch.

The day was stunning, the sky a newly minted blue with white fluffy clouds wandering like content sheep over its endless expanse. Green, green grass whispered under her shoes as she sprinted forward her eyes nearly as brilliant as the sky stretching over her head which beckoning Kitty to fling herself into its embrace. Murmurs, loud yet quiet too, was the sound of the crowd in the back ground. They waited, as she did for the game to start. Her flying feet came to a halt as she joined her team. We are the best, we are the best…Crotalus is going down! Kitty thought as she fidgeted, barely hearing Daniel’s speech as time, always fickle for her, had come to a grinding halt.

The speech may only have been minutes, but it felt like hours to the small girl as she fidgeted. Small, delicate looking hands played restlessly over her broom handle. Her run from the Hall had done nothing to blunt her energy, and had in fact only got her blood rushing wildly though her veins. Now all she wanted was to be free of the Earth, to fly and play and win. It was almost painful to stand still (relatively still…not so still) and wait, and wait, and wait.

Then the shrill sound of the whistle blew, sharp and demanding. Like a greyhound loosed on the track she flung herself up into the sky, the wind clung wildly to her, its fingers tugging pulling at her robes, her braid, almost trying to hold her back and force her to yield to gravity. Never! Free, finally free she arrowed sleekly towards her goals hers!. Aladren would win…failure was simply not an option.

0 Kitty McLevy – Keeper Lets ROCK! 0 Kitty McLevy – Keeper 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

September 23, 2011 7:38 PM

I'm more interested in winning by Arthur Carey, Chaser

Before the game started, Arthur supposed he felt anxiety, but it came less from thinking they might lose or he might embarrass himself than it was a weary certainty that in a few hours, he was going to be exhausted and possibly in pain, which would only come after he spent a lot of time being frustrated. He hated playing against Crotalus, and had been hoping they would lose in their game against Teppenpaw and spare him the trouble. They had done exactly as he’d expected them to, though, and not obliged him.

Since it wasn’t proper to say such things, though, he settled for looking carefully neutral as the team convened for the speech, a stark contrast to his twin’s obvious excitement about the game. Arthur just hoped that Arnold wasn’t going to want to draw it out; Marissa Stephenson, along with her entire team, was going to want revenge for last year, and his brother lacked proper composure. He was bound to make mistakes. Some of them might lead to game-ending head injuries.

Besides, he thought, with a faint smile, Arnold really did not need any injury that might make him even less conscious of risk. As it was, Arthur was increasingly sure that Arnie was going to break all four limbs at least twice before they graduated, and very likely a few ribs, especially once the Beaters their age grew up a little. Arnold really did not need to lose what little sense he had.

Of course, the fact Arthur was standing here didn’t speak too well of his sense, either, but he tried to ignore that part.

At least the weather was pleasant. This kind was far better than a thunderstorm for being out in.

When the whistle blew, he kicked off, noting another advantage of the weather and so the ground being this way, and, without worrying for dignity, lunged for the Quaffle. It ended up in his hands, just as planned, which meant that his task was half-done. Now he just had to arrange things so it was put through one of the goal hoops. He flew fast, thanking all goodness Aladren was the only team with all its players on decent brooms, looked for Crotali after a while, and started to feint toward one of his teammates before passing suddenly to the other and turning his broom to cut off a red robe.

They could easily make up any ground they lost this early in the game, especially since he’d gotten them well away from center and so even further from Katrina, but he saw no reason to bother with making it up if he could be avoided. Unless one of the Seekers was phenomenally lucky, this game was almost certainly going to get very dirty before it was over, and the longer it could be kept from becoming a real battle, the better, as far as Arthur was concerned. For something unlikely to affect the results, the Chasing game was very difficult.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser I'm more interested in winning 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Captain Nash, Chaser

September 24, 2011 4:42 PM

We'll win because we rock by Captain Nash, Chaser

If he didn't host regular Quidditch practices three times a week, it would have come as a surprise to Daniel that it was springtime. As it was, he had noticed the gradual change in outside temperatures from frigidly cold to almost warm. Mostly, this change filled him with dread because it meant his RATS were charging toward him at bull rush and once those hit, he'd be thrust into The Future.

In the last month or so, he'd even gradually shifted most of the planning and execution of the practices to his Assistant Captain, at least in part to spare himself the extra time that this organization would normally cost him. Mostly, though, he credited the decision to 'letting Edmond ease into the Captaincy for next year so there would be a smooth leadership transition.' That was important, too, if Aladren was going to maintain its current supremacy. Daniel had no intention of being the one at fault for losing that.

Because winning wasn't just something he wanted to do for his last and final game at Sonora Academy. It was something he needed to do. Somehow, during the last couple of years - but mostly last year - Quidditch changed from just something he did for the leadership credit on his résumé to something that actually mattered. He thoroughly enjoyed thinking of himself and his House as Quidditch Champions, and he would not let anyone down by giving any less than his all to each practice and the final game, even if it did mean putting away his RATS notebooks early last night so he could get in a solid night's sleep before the final match.

He was well rested, pumped, and nutritiously breakfasted when he arrived on the pitch with his very fine broom in near mint condition. He had dedicated most of the morning to making sure not so much as a bristle was out of line. Gathering his team together he was mostly anxious to just get started already, so his final speech of his Quidditch career was also his shortest one. After all, his team knew what it was doing already. They'd proven that by being undefeated for three years.

"We beat Crotalus last year, and we're going to do it again. We're the best team Sonora has, now let's prove it one more time. Let's go Aladren!"

He shook Charlie's hand, did not wish her luck, and smiled at her in challenge. He refrained (barely) from trash-talking her, and that only because he still wanted to be friends with her after the game.

Arthur seemed to have taken his speech to heart because he was off the ground nearly the same instant the whistle blew and grabbed the Quaffle straight off. Daniel was pleased. That boded well for Aladren next year.

He flew toward the Crotalus goals, a little ahead of Arthur, and trying to keep clear of the red-clad chasers. After a little while, Arthur faked a pass to Russell, then actually sent it Daniel's way. Daniel caught it and carried the ball closer toward Nic Sawyer. The tall kid was easily Crotalus's weakest player, so any shot that made it to the Keeper was all but a guaranteed scoring opportunity. Despite that, he thought a straight shot in was just making it too easy, even for a bad Keeper, so as he approached the goals, he stole a glance behind himself to check that he wasn't being tailed before he tried anything fancy and spotted an ally back there instead of an enemy.

Grinning, he attempted to make a discreet backward pass - not even looking to see if it was successful because that might give away what he'd done - and kept charging toward Nic, acting like he still had the ball.

0 Captain Nash, Chaser We'll win because we rock 0 Captain Nash, Chaser 0 5

Sam Bauer, Chaser

September 24, 2011 11:27 PM

Don't count your chickens before they hatch. by Sam Bauer, Chaser

As the two teams convened before the game so Charlie and Daniel could shake hands, Sam split his attention between the Aladren Keeper and the Aladren alternate. They were the source of a puzzle to him, and while he guessed he’d know the answer to it by the end of the game, he would rather somehow have it come to him in a flash of inspiration right now.

On the surface, a first year Keeper was great, especially one who didn’t look big enough to be in first year. Even assuming phenomenal talent, which usually wasn’t the case, there wasn’t enough of her for her to block anything unless she was right there; even throwing herself off her broom at the ball wouldn’t work unless she was close to it anyway. Sure, she had a fast broom courtesy of half the Aladren team having lifetime membership in the Most Ancient and Honorable Society of Rich Dudes With More Galleons Than Sense, but Crotalus could fly, too, and there was only so much a fast broom could make up for. The question was how much she had to make up for, which was why he glanced at the alternate a few times, too. Was he just really lousy at Keeper, or was the little mouse really that good?

(Under some circumstances, Sam would have considered a third possibility, which was that it was all a trick to lull Crotalus into a false sense of security and Edmond Carey was really going to “accidentally” break the poor girl’s skull for her in a few minutes so their real front man could come out, but on balance, he thought that was a little too complicated. A certain type of Crotalus might have gone in for it, but it was stupid to eliminate a resource that way, and most of that sort didn’t play Quidditch anyway. Insufficient teamwork, not to mention people generally, skills and all that. Besides, Aladren got by on sheer energy and force, not guile. Their team took a very straightforward approach to problem-solving, which was basically to identify a problem and then either outrun it or hit it with something until it ceased to be an issue.)

Either way, though, Sam wasn’t too happy about it. He had really wanted, now that Rachel had fully drawn Sam Hamilton out of the game and over to the Frilly Side, a lousy Aladren Keeper in play today.

Of course, he’d also wanted the Aladren Chasers to all forget how to tell their left and right hands apart over the summer, and that clearly hadn’t happened. As Arthur Carey ran off with the Quaffle and Sam hurried off in pursuit, the thought flashed across his mind that perhaps he should start devoutly wishing for his enemies to succeed, along with the feeling that he’d had this thought before.

He saw Arthur preparing to pass to Russell Layne, miraculously close enough that he thought he could intercept, and he pushed his broom as far as it would go and leaned forward to do so when, quite abruptly, Arthur was in his way and Daniel and Russell were both running toward the goals, the ball not with the one Sam had thought it would be. Stopping so suddenly he almost lost his seat, Sam uttered several words and phrases, some picked up from people at home and some from Charlie and one he’d made up, which his mother would have very likely jinxed him if she ever found out he’d used. About half of these were directed at Arthur without any regard whatsoever for the younger boy’s social status, and none did any more good than he had regard, because he saw the backward pass Daniel made but was completely helpless to do anything about it from his position. There was no way he could catch up in time.

Still, he had to try, if only so he could be in the general area when the ball came back into play. Diving, he headed for the goals, regaining altitude as he went in the hopes that he could avoid Bludgers by not holding to straight line. This one was theirs, crazy Aladrens and their brooms or no crazy Aladrens and their brooms.

16 Sam Bauer, Chaser Don't count your chickens before they hatch. 163 Sam Bauer, Chaser 0 5

Russell Layne, Chaser

September 24, 2011 11:40 PM

I think the shells are already cracking. by Russell Layne, Chaser

Crotalus had changed one Beater, but otherwise, Russell found the scene in front of him on the day of the last Quidditch game very familiar. The main difference wasn’t that one Beater, or even Aladren’s new Keeper, but his awareness of what Crotalus could do on the Pitch and what Aladren, likewise, could do when put under a little stress.

Crotalus played. They played hard. But at the end of the day, Aladren was more determined and less sane, and that would carry the day. Russell felt confident of that even before Daniel’s brief speech said basically the same thing. He had a great and enduring faith in Edmond Carey’s ability to fill a hospital tent with any and all unfortunate souls who came between Aladren and victory, and an equal certainty that Arnold Carey was the craziest short guy on a broom this side of the Mississippi. As long as those two things continued to be true, winning shouldn’t be a problem, and Russell had only two personal objectives for the game. The first was to not get so injured that they had to take him out of play entirely, and the very close second was to score at least once. Even if he didn't, though, he knew he could assist Daniel and Arthur well enough that the ball should never even get anywhere near Kitty.

Should never. Definitely not would never, but the first moments of the game were a step in the right direction. Russell even thought that Arthur was passing to him until the last moment, when the ball went instead to Daniel and down the Pitch from there, ever on toward the set of goal hoops, normally indistinguishable from the ones at the other end of the Pitch, Crotalus wanted to keep it far away from.

The game, it seemed, had begun right away. He gave it five minutes, tops, before they all went very prettily off the deep end, Crotali and Aladrens together.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been after a successful feint happened so early in the game, but Russell was caught a little by surprise by the sudden back-pass Daniel made to him. Luckily, though, three practices a week made some things more about reflex than any conscious thought on his part, and catching the Quaffle was one of those things. With a narrow bit of field indeed between him and the goals, Russell felt his hands close on the red ball.

Quickly, and praying that Daniel continuing his run on the Keeper proved a successful diversion, Russell threw the Quaffle toward the left goal hoop with all the force and accuracy he could muster, trusting to luck and the increases in arm strength and hand-eye coordination brought about by two years of this to put the ball where it belonged. As long as Nic Sawyer hadn’t gotten a lot more skilled or phenomenally lucky in the past year, he thought he had a decent chance of success, especially since Daniel was a much more distracting object than Russell. Much more of a threat.

Sometimes, he still felt a bit inadequate in the company of his roommates and some others in Aladren, but there were many times when being exactly the kind of mild-looking, not-notorious, shortest-Chaser-of-the-three person he was came in handy. Now he just had to hope this was one of them.

16 Russell Layne, Chaser I think the shells are already cracking. 183 Russell Layne, Chaser 0 5

Marissa Stephenson,Seeker

September 25, 2011 12:14 AM

Seeking all the usual things. by Marissa Stephenson,Seeker

She knew it was going to be a hard game, probably easily a match for last year’s match against the same team, but as she first set foot on the Quidditch Pitch, Marissa couldn’t help stopping for a moment to smile, close her eyes, and take a deep breath. They’d made it. She’d made it. She hadn’t failed to get Crotalus here, in their captain’s final year. If that wasn’t worth a moment of self-congratulation, she didn’t know what was.

Unless it was winning Head Girl. But she wasn’t going to think about that. There was nothing she could do about it, so obsessing about it was unhealthy in general and worse than usual right now. She needed to focus on Quidditch, where, this year anyway, things had been going very right, and where she had worked herself into being sure they were going to continue to go right. Better than right, even. If she was going in for optimism, Marissa thought she might as well go in all the way, without half-measures. Aladren wasn’t going to be doing anything by half-measures today, if they ever did.

That thought was enough to remind her that the day wasn’t in the bag yet, and while she smiled as she greeted Charlie, it was a smile of greeting between friends, not one of satisfaction. Satisfaction would have to wait a little longer to be publicly displayed. She did hope, though, that she was able to infuse the right level of confidence and enthusiasm unmuddled by arrogance into the smile she gave the team, and into her parting wish of “good luck!” to them as they went to meet with the Aladrens.

Still, as Charlie and Daniel shook hands, she felt a flutter of nervousness in her stomach as she looked across the way to the blue-clad players. Next year, it would be her in the center, shaking hands with Edmond. Would she do it as a champion, or as someone who’d been beaten twice by his beginner-class cousin? She bit her lip for a second, wishing with all her heart that it would be the former.

Any nervousness she felt about the fact that the generally polite, helpful Aladren prefect, or even his equally redheaded second-year sidekick, might inflict serious injury on her by the end of the hour was ignored. She had gotten used to ignoring that kind of anxiety, in large part, before she ever played a sport where there was a position exclusively meant to inflict damage on the other team’s players. Accepting that risk was just part of the game.

When the whistle blew, she went up, almost immediately abandoning her initial straight line and not paying any attention to what was going on with the Chasers until she was well over their heads. It didn’t really matter, anyway; it wasn’t likely that, with the people playing down there, the Quaffle would stay in either team’s hands for long, and Nic was being balanced against a tiny first year girl as the Keeper, so the score seemed even less likely than usual to be a real factor. It would all come down to her and Arnold, which was why she was keeping an eye on the smaller Seeker’s movements almost as assiduously as she was looking for the gleam of gold that would betray the Snitch.

Almost. That was the gamble, hoping that ‘almost’ wouldn’t turn out to be a mistake. If she was looking the wrong way at just the wrong moment…Well, she wasn’t going to. It was as simple as that. He wouldn’t beat her again.

16 Marissa Stephenson,Seeker Seeking all the usual things. 147 Marissa Stephenson,Seeker 0 5

Nic Sawyer, Keeper

September 25, 2011 12:34 PM

Well, something is cracking by Nic Sawyer, Keeper

Nic was improving. Given where he'd started from, that wasn't saying a lot, but the broom brought him where he told it to go now at about the speed he wanted it to go without too many hi-jinks along the way. This meant he was already waiting at the goal posts when the Aladrens made it there with the Quaffle. He didn't beat them by a lot, mind you, but he was in position and as ready as he was going to get.

He hadn't seen who got the ball straight off. He assumed it was an Aladren mostly because the Quaffle had come to visit him so quickly. Now, it was Daniel who had the ball. That wasn't good. Daniel was the oldest and most experienced of the Aladren Chasers.

His ability to block had been improving nearly as much as his flying skills, too. His arms were longer than they had been and he had mostly figured out where they ended now. But Charlie still got far more shots past him during a normal practice than he stopped (though he was up to a success rate of almost one in three instead of the one in seven he'd been at earlier in the year), and he didn't think Daniel was going to be any easier.

Rachel was probably watching, though, and he was going to do his very best to bring her to the ball a Champion this year. He kept his eye on Daniel, determined not to let the Head Boy score on him on this first attempt of the game. He seemed to be going for the right hoop, so Nic inched over that way, careful not to get too far away that he couldn't get back to the center one if the seventh year tried to be tricky.

He was wise to be on his guard against tricks, but he'd apparently started watching for them too late. Nic realized as Daniel got closer that he didn't actually even have the ball anymore. Feeling more than a little stymied, Nic tried to find where the Quaffle actually was. A glance at the other two Aladren Chasers showed him the little one - Layne - had the ball now and he was going for the far hoop. Nic dove for the left side, and almost, almost, made it in time. His fingers just barely brushed against the leather of the ball as it sailed passed, knocking it slightly off-course but not enough.

Cursing under his breath, Nic collected the ball after it had gone through, and then tossed it back into play, aiming for one of his own team's chasers and hoping fervently that the Crotalus trio would get it far away from his end of the pitch and keep it away hereafter. And preferably score many times on the tiny thing Aladren had put on the other set of goals as if to mock him.

1 Nic Sawyer, Keeper Well, something is cracking 165 Nic Sawyer, Keeper 0 5

Coach Amelia Pierce

September 25, 2011 12:35 PM

Aladren scores! 10-0 (nm) by Coach Amelia Pierce

1 Coach Amelia Pierce Aladren scores! 10-0 (nm) 20 Coach Amelia Pierce 0 5

Sam Bauer, Chaser

September 25, 2011 5:40 PM

Let's try this again.... by Sam Bauer, Chaser

On the bright side, Sam made it to the goal area without getting hit by a Bludger. Hopefully, this was because they were either busy holding off his team’s Beaters or just thought he was not worth killing and not because they were busy breaking every bone in Marissa’s body.

On the dim side, Aladren had scored. At least it had been a close thing. Sam thought Nic’s fingers had actually brushed the Quaffle as it went through the hoop. That boded well for the next time, if he and the girls were sloppy enough to let there be a next time. It was never really pleasant to remember that Aladren goals weren’t just about Nic and the Aladren Chasers. There was a Crotalus Chaser element in there, too, unless someone tried to run the length of the Pitch with the ball, and if that kind of move succeeded, then there was probably a Crotalus Beater problem.

But no more problems. The Quaffle was theirs again, and it was going to stay that way. When it was thrown back, Sam grabbed it, wrapped an arm around it, and started moving toward the Aladren end as fast as he could.

Knowing that either Aladren Beater could easily fly to wherever a Bludger was, catch up to him, and knock him out of the air all before he could move very far from the position the guy had first spotted him in, though, he didn’t want to carry it too far that way. It was as nerve-wracking to try to judge how far to go as anything. He was probably the Crotalus player the Aladrens were least interested in hurting, since Renée was crazy and Charlie was Charlie and the Beaters had weapons and Nic did save sometimes and Marissa was looking for the Snitch, but the guy with the Quaffle was always a target, which made it smart not to hold on for too long. On the other hand, though, Aladren would want to score again immediately, probably, and probably would if they got the Quaffle back close to the Crotalus goals. It hadn’t been too bad when Crotalus was the one sitting in front of a Pecari Keeper and shooting at their leisure for like five minutes before finally deliberately letting Pecari have the ball back for a few seconds, but it was bound to end badly if Aladren got a chance to do that with Nic.

Finally, when the prickling feeling on the back of his neck began to feel very pronounced, he looked for an opening and tried for a short pass, willing it to work in the unexpected event that he turned out to have a hitherto-unrevealed ability to make things happen with his brain. It just had to go a few feet without an Aladren materializing out of the clear blue sky (were the elements biased? That would have made cloudy weather pro-Crotalus, since it was gray, but they would have as much trouble in foul conditions as anyone else, so…) to intercept, just a few feet…

Dude, he admonished himself when he caught the edge to that thought. Relax. We’ve been playing for like two minutes, and we’re in control of the ball now. It’s all good. Besides, listening for Bludgers is more important, because we haven’t got an alternate.

They were really going to have to do something about that next year, blackmail Paul’s roommate or kidnap favored relatives of the firsties or something. No one really wanted a reserve to come in, since in theory the person already out there was the best, but Crotalus was the only team in the school that would be in deep, deep trouble if their Seeker took such a bad injury that the medic wouldn’t let her come back, if she was even conscious enough to argue with the woman about it. Something about that just seemed wrong to him, even wrong-er than the way two teams had undergone similarly massive turnovers and Aladren come out on top of everything last year while Pecari had yet to really get back on its feet. Crotalus just…didn’t come in last; as cynical as Sam sometimes was about his House, he couldn’t help but, deep down, still believe that a little.

16 Sam Bauer, Chaser Let's try this again.... 163 Sam Bauer, Chaser 0 5

Renée Errant {Chaser}

September 25, 2011 6:35 PM

Pocketful of Rain by Renée Errant {Chaser}

The championship. For the three years she'd been at Sonora, been on the team, they'd reached the championship, faced off against Aladren, and lost. Renée wasn't sure what she thought of that. She was thinking about it, but very little feeling was attached to it, good or bad. It was spring, sunny, and beautiful around her, but within her mind she was mounting in the rain. Cool droplets - drip drip drip - hitting faster and colder as she rose in the air, the whistle sounding her off. She wasn't sad or anything, just feeling a bit gray. Paste and cement and early morning dew that dampened and stained her clothes when she laid on the grass. She didn't know why, she didn't know why, she didn't know why, but she knew that the year was ending, summer was approaching, and with summer came family and with family came Soledad, and Oro, and David who was her father, who wasn't her father, and Marianna who didn't care, who went to work and made pretty dresses and traveled and Gabriel who traveled and wrote short letters that meant nothing and had children who would never know him, never know her, and Renée knew too, that it was really raining, her hair slacking, her fingers shaking, and as she reached for the red leather bound ball she knew too that someone else was going to get it.

Renée closed her eyes for a second, leaning on her broom, breathing, smelling wet dogs, and wet trash, and the steam from hot dog carts, and sweet honey pretzels that sickened the air in the muggle mall David liked to take her to. Brooklyn seemed so far away today. She wanted to dismount. She didn't want this broom, her broom, she wanted the ground, something firm and reliable and she hadn't even wanted to play this year anyway. 'Yes I did.' Yes, she did. She needed this cold, freezing air. Needed to drown in the flood sent for her, only her, from the sky. Her lungs gave way to gills and dark brown eyes opened, watching somebody dive for red, red passing back and forth, red scoring, red caught, red coming back toward her. The Quaffle. And Sam. Renée flew beside him, not altogether there, dampened from the continuosly pouring rain. She wasn't flying, she was swimming. Over the waves Sam tossed her the ball and she caught it easily, bending parallel to her Febre broom and shot off, Quaffle tucked beneath her arm. 'Go, go, go! There are sharks after you, go!' She swam faster, and at the possible intrusion of an Aladren swerved suddenly to the left, raised herself quickly on her broom, pulled back her arm and made a quick hard arched shot to her fellow Crotalus chaser.

Her body was focused, hands and feet and legs and thighs, everything melding into the broom. A broom that Marianna had got her because Marianna was good with gifts and words that inspired and actions that betrayed. Marianna was good at being loved, and good at making you feel loved until she stopped, and grew bored or forgetful, and suddenly the love was gone but the light kisses were still there and the warm hugs that smelled like cinnamon. Marianna was a pretty shell, comforting and gone. Today Renée's mind was caught by the rain, her body slashing through the sun, weaving in and out through air particles and she was ready to win, ready to fight, ready to fly and to swim. As long as she didn't have to come back down to the ground. She could stay up here forever and fight (play) and win. Her eyes briefly left her mind to see the actual game, waiting for either Crotalus to catch or Aladren to intercept. She didn't care; she just wanted to fly.

0 Renée Errant {Chaser} Pocketful of Rain 0 Renée Errant {Chaser} 0 5

Russell Layne, Chaser

September 26, 2011 1:47 AM

...Would soak through the pocket and make a mess? by Russell Layne, Chaser

It was a close miss, but there was still nothing to call Russell’s attempt at an interception but a miss. He grimaced in frustration over it. Intercepting from Sam Bauer was a lot easier than chasing down Renée Errant, whose broom was better.

It was, though, the same one she’d been flying on for at least a few years, while the one he was technically borrowing was newer and shinier. Russell found himself smiling in what he imagined was a not very nice way as he kept up, something he would have had no chance of doing last year. Maybe a bit of him, in the very back of his head, still felt like this wasn’t doing things right, somehow, but it was easy enough to ignore when he compared it to the frustration of not being quite able to keep up with the other guys.

Plus, he was a twelve-year-old boy. It was against his nature not to be pleased with the upgrade, however it had come about or however temporary it might prove.

Maybe he was feeling a little too pleased with himself and his improved chasing capabilities after his goal, though, because he didn’t react fast enough when Renée suddenly veered off-course. She was going left, he was still going straight, and by the time he turned, he was sure the ball would already be in someone else’s possession.

His hope was that the others had, knowing that she liked fancy moves the way other people liked ice cream, surrounded her and not made their moves too soon. He didn’t think it was an unreasonable thing to hope for. Daniel and Arthur were good, so he thought at least one had probably followed her. If the ball stayed in Crotalus control through this, it wouldn’t for much after it.

In the meantime, he tried to block the Chaser he’d interrupted the original pass to from going to make a new formation. Maybe limiting the passing options of the Crotali would make someone try to cover the whole Pitch, but he didn’t think so, and the Beaters would put them on the ground if they tried even if Kitty wasn’t up to saving, which practices suggested she was. He thought this was going to work out for them.

Or maybe he really was feeling too pleased about that goal. He guessed they’d find out, one way or another.

16 Russell Layne, Chaser ...Would soak through the pocket and make a mess? 183 Russell Layne, Chaser 0 5

Captain Nash, Chaser

September 26, 2011 12:01 PM

Sounds about right to me. by Captain Nash, Chaser

It wasn't hard to figure out when Nic noticed Daniel's hands were empty and the gig was up. He'd kept the Keeper's attention long enough though, if just barely. Russell scored and Daniel cheered, and the all turned around to fly back toward Kitty. Daniel had no intention of letting the Quaffle get that far though.

He hadn't been in a position to stop the pass from Sam to Renee - he'd been guarding Charlie at that point - but when Russell fell back in his pursuit, Daniel changed strategies a little bit, rising in altitude for a diving interception that the Crotali hopefully wouldn't see coming.

The opportunity presented itself not long after that, and Daniel took it, dropping into a sharp dive that took him right in the path the Quaffle was taking at just the right moment (he remembered, breifly, that one of his very first interception attempts had not been nearly so well timed, and mentally applauded himself on his improvement over the years). He snatched the red ball into Aladren possession once more and made a tight turn to bring himself back into the correct direction.

He was a little too far out now to make a run for the goals again already, so he regained the altitude he'd lost in his dive and watched for an opening to pass to one of his teammates. He made a fair run back, recovering not quite half of the ground they'd lost, when one such opening did present itself. Daniel took it and threw the ball to the other blue-clad Chaser.

0 Captain Nash, Chaser Sounds about right to me. 0 Captain Nash, Chaser 0 5

Charlie, Chaser, Captain

September 26, 2011 12:23 PM

That's mine. by Charlie, Chaser, Captain

Although she had fully expected to suffer great tremors of excitement and anticipation at this, her final Quidditch game, and yet another championship match against Aladren, Charlotte was surprised to find that her internal fireworks were really more like the snap, crackle and pop of a breakfast cereal than the life-altering spectacular of an Epcot show. For the last time, she laid out her freshly pressed Rattlesnake robes; for the last time she gave her broomstick its final check-over, scrutinizing every twig in its tail to ensure they were clipped to perfection. Despite her successful sports career at Sonora, the seventh year had no intention of continuing to play Quidditch at college. This game marked the end of an era, which was perhaps why her feelings tended as much towards a melancholy resolve as they spurred her well-honed competitive streak. So long as she gave it her all this game, she didn’t really even mind whether her team won or lost, not that she’d even consider revealing this to them. Naturally it would be wonderful to leave on a Quidditch high note (not to mention laud it over Daniel for the remaining few weeks) but with everything else that would be changing in her life, she doubted one more loss to Aladren would really make all that much difference.

“Hey everyone,” Charlie greeted the rest of the team cheerfully (she wondered whether the impending end of her captaincy was relieving the pressure it had caused her to feel in previous years, and hence her comparatively light-hearted attitude for the past term compared to the rest) in the bright morning sunshine. The few light clouds would help when they blocked the sun, but otherwise vision was going to be an issue from time to time. They’d deal with it. “Let’s try to win today, yeah?” Quite possibly the shortest speech she’d ever made, and by no means the least encouraging. She didn’t need to tell them to avoid the Beaters, or keep the Quaffle away from Nic, or to let Marissa know that the pressure was on her to not get beaten by the same kid again – it was redundant. Everyone here knew what they had to do.

As Coach Pierce called the captains forward to shake hands, Charlie couldn’t help noticing that her name and Daniel’s sounded good when called together. She was fairly certain they looked good together, too; it was a complete and total shame that Daniel didn’t see her like that. Luckily, Charlie had been fortunate enough to add James to her long list of seventh year distractions (that had also included college applications and RATS preparation as well as her usual duties of being Head Girl and Crotalus prefect and Quidditch Captain), which was why she was able to simply return Daniel’s challenging smile with their handshake with only the smallest tinge of regret. A phenomenal friendship was, in many ways, better than a potentially mediocre romantic relationship, anyway.

Pushing these pointless musings resolutely to the back of her head where they wouldn’t interfere with her game play, Charlie gave her team one last thumbs up before mounting her broom and awaiting the coach’s whistle. It came; she kicked off from the relatively soft ground, in no hurry to be first to the ball. Let Aladren take the Quaffle first if it pleased them – the first Chaser to the ball was by no means a reliable indicator of how the game itself would play out. Admittedly, she would have preferred it if the opposition hadn’t kept the Quaffle long enough to actually get to Nic and score – that was a little disappointing so early on in the game, yet Charlie still couldn’t find it in her to be altogether dismayed. A little stress was probably good for Nic. He was a great distance indeed from pulling his own weight (as his own weight was more or less equal to two female Chasers or both Crotalus Beaters combined, if his height was any indication) for the team, though, to be fair, he had been very close on making that save, and it hadn’t been an easy shot, so far as Charlie could tell from her distance around half way down the pitch. There was no point crowding the scoring area when René and Sam were already up there to get the ball; she was much better placed where she was, further down the pitch and generally out of the way, waiting for them to bring the Quaffle to her.

In due time, that is, of course, what happened. Sam caught Nic’s pass, and then he passed across to Renée, all the time moving further from Nic, and closer to the teeny little Aladren Keeper. They were like a well-oiled machine, and that certainly hadn’t changed from the last time they were up against the Hawks. Very little had changed, in fact, aside from one Beater on the Crotalus team (and Paul was already doing better than Phoenix had a year previously – she had high hopes for him), and the Keeper on the Aladren team who was.... too small to be a keeper, surely. It was like Aladren had specifically sought out the smallest person in the entire school and stuck her in goal. Charlie couldn’t fathom why, but then she’d never really understood Aladren reasoning. The whole house was certifiably insane, none more so than the Quidditch team. Keeping the Quaffle out of their possession was no doubt recipe to make them even more nuts than usual, and yet that’s precisely what Charlie intended on doing... if only Daniel would get the hell out of her way for a moment or two so she could join in the game. She would grudgingly admit that he’d somehow turned into a reasonable Chaser over the years, but right now that truth was monumentally frustrating. She tried to shake him off by swerving off her current path and turning back in towards Renée, and for a split second she thought it had worked: Charlie saw the Quaffle sailing towards her.

No! The idiot had gone in and taken the Quaffle. Her Quaffle. Charlotte was fuming; somehow the fact that it was Daniel who’d intercepted the pass mattered more than the interception itself. The indignation was sufficient to cause a fierce determination that only ever showed itself during Quidditch games, and usually not so close to the start of a game. She followed him resolutely as he turned tail, and scrupulously watched his every motion. When he moved to pass, she was there as fast as lightning, shooting out into the Quaffle’s path, and scooping it up to safety. Take that, Daniel Nash.

Victorious and satisfied, Charlie aimed to channel this emotion to the benefit of her team. She wasted no time in taking the Quaffle back to where it should have been already in her hands without that cumbersome interruption. She wasn’t really close enough just yet to score, so she expertly scanned her surroundings, and while there were more blue clad players around than she really would have liked, she saw a relatively safe opening and took it, hoping her pass would be caught by one of her teammates, and that within the next couple of minutes they would score the equalizing goal. She didn’t care how good this miniature Keeper was – this was her first championship game and her first experience of playing against Crotalus Chasers. The kid was doomed.

0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain That's mine. 0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

September 29, 2011 11:09 PM

Mine by Arthur Carey, Chaser

For a moment, Arthur was sufficiently surprised by Mr. Bauer’s diatribe that he didn’t react to it at all. He knew such language existed, he wasn’t that sheltered, but he had never expected to have it directed at him to his face. Grandfather sometimes spoke very poorly of him when he didn’t realize Arthur was eavesdropping on a conversation, but even he never vocalized even a quarter of his vitriol in a direct confrontation.

It was almost refreshing, in a way. Allowing too much repetition wouldn’t be acceptable at all, and he’d do something unpleasant to anyone who spoke to him that way off the Quidditch Pitch even once, but for a moment, it was like he was like everyone else. The experience was novel enough that he was able to shrug off the profanity for the moment, especially since it was just a result of one of his plans having worked out the way he’d wanted it to. Another time, he might have been offended no matter what the circumstances, but right now, things were going his way. Mr. Bauer was not able to get in the middle of things to prevent the shot on the Crotalus goals, which made Arthur smile fondly for a moment as, ignoring anything else Mr. Bauer had to say, he prepared for the next move of the game. He still wasn’t very likely to turn out to be the kind of useful friend that Preston was, but Russell Layne was an acceptable fellow.

Then, to Arthur’s irritation, the ball started changing hands a lot. Neither team seemed able to hold onto it for more than a few seconds. In fact, he now thought all six of them had carried it at least a little way.

Goals were good. This moving a few feet one way and then the other, neither team really getting anywhere, was not, not least because it meant they were all close enough to still for the Beaters to come into play. He would rather not have that happen, so when Miss Abbott passed, he swept in to intercept it and succeeded.

The Crotali had gotten closer to Katrina than he really liked, so he went perhaps a little further back the other way than he usually would have, trusting his roommate and his cousin to keep him reasonably safe. It worked, at least long enough for him to find another Aladren Chaser and attempt a pass. Now, he just hoped that they could hold onto it longer this time.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser Mine 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Edmond Carey, Beater

September 30, 2011 1:44 AM

Thinking about politics by Edmond Carey, Beater

He had been feeling…not nervous, that was too strong a word, better to call it uneasy…uneasy about the final Quidditch match of the year for some weeks, and though he got up and got ready for it that morning, Edmond did so with a touch of reluctance. He didn’t remember much about the last time he had played against Crotalus, but he was sure it had been one of the worst days of his life.

This time, he was sure, wouldn’t be like that, but even putting aside the memories, today was an important day. It was the last time their great winning team would play together before Daniel graduated. Next year, it would be his job to keep up the reputation Aladren had worked so hard to earn – really the whole team’s job, especially Arnold’s, but he’d be the captain, the one everyone saw. It wasn’t going to help that he was a Carey, either, succeeding a Muggleborn captain; if things were even a little of what he understood, then winning and losing would both irritate someone who was more political than he was. It wouldn’t be quite as bad as if Kitty quit and they didn’t have any girls on the team, but it would be unpleasant – and worse than that, not even so much unpleasant for him as for Morgaine, who didn’t know or care anything about Quidditch, and if her stance on Muggleborns was widely considered a little ambiguous, she certainly couldn’t object too much to the idea of girls who didn’t want to marry.

As for him…He didn’t understand why everyone couldn’t just leave each other alone, but if pushed to it, he was more inclined toward the point of view his family did not like, and he was sure it was more because of reason than because of some kind of adolescent rebellion. Since he wanted to live, though, he doubted he had the courage to come out as more than a moderate, on the issues where he even was more than moderate, or thought he might be. Half of it, he still wasn’t even really sure about, though he supposed he should work harder at sorting it out now.

Not right now, though. After the game. Right now, his only task was to hit Bludgers at people, not to philosophize. There was no room for Jane and Socrates on the Quidditch Pitch.

So despite his misgivings, he smiled first at Marissa and then at Preston in a friendly way as the captains shook hands, and added to the one who was on his side, “I’m sure you won’t need it, but good luck today.”

For a moment, once the game began, he let himself just enjoy flying. Just for a second. Then he opened his eyes, sighed, and hit a Bludger toward Marissa before she could look too much for the Snitch. There was an appealing simplicity to Quidditch. He hit her, his team benefited; hers hit Arnold, his team didn’t. No complications.

0 Edmond Carey, Beater Thinking about politics 0 Edmond Carey, Beater 0 5

Sam Bauer, Chaser

September 30, 2011 1:12 PM

Mine! by Sam Bauer, Chaser

Sam had expected the Aladrens to be kind of irritating. This was, as far as he could tell, a natural inclination of theirs – or at least, he amended, since he liked the Other Sam, of the male members of the House. The younger they were, the worse they were about it, too.

That was where the real surprise of the day was for him so far. The majority of the team had been slightly more annoying when they were first years than they were now, but considering just how annoying they had been then, that wasn’t saying much for how they were now. The worst one of all, and not just because he was the one currently in Sam’s way, was Layne. Last year, he had been Sam’s Aladren counterpart, the scrawny guy whose broom probably wouldn’t even be stocked in the same shop as his teammates’. Now, just because Layne’s teammates were able to afford nice toys for everyone, it was like that bond had never existed. Sam was frankly disgusted. He had thought they really shared something in common, like they came from the same place or something.

The rest of the world was as lacking in honor out here as he was, it seemed. Oh, well.

Not wasting time and energy on saying anything this time, he veered around the class traitor (though, come to think of it, he was pretty sure Layne was almost rich anyway, and was only really normal compared to the likes of Stratford and Daniel Nash and that homicidal outfit of Careys and Distant Cousin; he’d probably look as far down his nose at Sam as the rest of them, if not further, the bourgeoisie loser), exploiting a slightly greater skill on a broom, but it was too late to keep the ball from going back to Aladren. Then Crotalus…Then Aladren again. Curse those meddling kids.

How he was in place to intercept the next pass, he really had no idea, and was now slightly worried for his broom’s structural integrity despite the whole going-around thing making it make a modicum of sense, but he didn’t really have time to think about it. He had to make up some of that ground.

Some. Not huge amounts, because while he might have yelled at a Carey, he wasn’t completely suicidal. Paul and Topher were good meddling kids, and it was nothing against them, but he really wouldn’t wager on them against Edmond and Preston. When he saw an opening, he passed again.

16 Sam Bauer, Chaser Mine! 163 Sam Bauer, Chaser 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

September 30, 2011 6:02 PM

Mine. by Arthur Carey, Chaser

He tried to tell himself that he only minded failing if he didn’t learn something from the failure, but the truth of it was, Arthur didn’t like to see his efforts stymied by much of anything, but especially not by the sheer dumb luck of others.

For a moment, then, when his pass was intercepted by Mr. Bauer, his face went blank, as it often did under stress, and he had a brief desire to throw something at the fourth year. Then, as his expression of concentration came back, he followed, fully intending to get the Quaffle back.

That didn’t take long. When the ball moved again, so did Arthur, and though there was always the moment of stomach-clenching anxiety when he worried about crashing into the others and someone, possibly him, getting hurt or being the one the coach didn’t catch quite quickly enough, he forced that feeling down and came out of the mix with the Quaffle between his hands. Shifting it so he could get one hand back on his broom, he sped up to regain the ground back toward Mr. Sawyer.

He wished he could just dismiss the Crotali, but something in the back of his head was telling him it was a bad idea. It was a faint feeling, but it was a persistent one, one that wouldn’t quite go away. He didn’t know why, since he didn’t think they’d ever formally been introduced and he certainly hadn’t done anything to the other fellow, but he thought he’d seen that new Beater Crotalus had giving him odd looks through the year – sometimes assessing, sometimes almost angry, for some reason, and never anything friendly. He also seemed to think that Arthur didn’t notice, and that he was very stealthy about it all.

Arthur hoped he hadn’t been that stupid last year, and in fact wasn’t that stupid this year. It was always something he had to consider. Perhaps he thought he was better than he was, both on the Pitch and off it. He hoped not, though, because he had what he thought was a perfect opportunity for a pass in front of him, and as he feinted toward one teammate, then the other before passing to the original one, he thought he would be very cross if it turned out that anyone could have seen that coming at a great distance. He had never liked the idea that he had to be much older in order to be much good at anything. Perhaps the Fourth had spent most of his life being old, but most people just didn’t.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser Mine. 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Captain Nash, Chaser

October 01, 2011 10:29 AM

Now, children, let us settle this calmly. It's mine. by Captain Nash, Chaser

There was something truly irritating about Charlie stealing one of his passes. Nevermind that he had effectively just done the same thing to her, and turnabout was, by nearly all accounts, fair play, but he still didn't like it. Of course, it would have been equally if not more irritating if it had been one of her smaller teammates just because Renee was almost supernaturally annoying on the Pitch and Daniel felt he should be better than Sam if only because of age and broom cost, but Charlie had her own brand of Interception Irritation.

He got over it, though, and watched the next few passes knock back and forth like a dizzying tennis match. He was never in a good position to get his own hands on the ball though Arthur's aborted pass had been intended to be his had the Quaffle made it that far.

Arthur got it a second time (a feat which resulted in a cheer from both the Aladren stands as well as the team Captain) and Daniel flew back toward the Crotalus goals, trying to keep away from the Crotali Chasers so Arthur would have a clear pass.

The other Aladren looked like he would take Daniel up on it, and then made as if to pass to Russell instead, and then did toss to Daniel after all. It was only because he was watching that direction to make sure the pass succeeded that he even realized there had been a double fake, and he barely got his hands up in time to catch it.

He hunched over the ball, trying to hide that he had it, and charged back toward Sawyer. Before he could get close enough to really threaten the goals, though, he thought he heard a crack of a wooden bat on metal and, though the sound could as easily have been made by Preston or Edmond as the Crotali, he decided he had held onto the ball long enough and he wasn't going to go for a shot after all.

He saw an opening to pass and took it, hoping his teammate could finish the run and bring the score up to twenty-zip. Only after the red ball was out of his hands did he look around to see if there was actually a bludger on his tail.

0 Captain Nash, Chaser Now, children, let us settle this calmly. It's mine. 0 Captain Nash, Chaser 0 5

Charlie, Chaser, Captain

October 01, 2011 1:41 PM

You wish by Charlie, Chaser, Captain

There was a lot to said for being in the right place at the right time. Charlie wasn’t sure that she’d often encountered the benefits of such a luxury; she’d earned her place as Quidditch captain by being on the team since her first year and working hard alongside the previous captain (who, admittedly, was her brother, but Charlie hadn’t slacked off just the same). There were plenty of other people in her yeargroup, so she hadn’t landed prefect or Head Girl by accident or forfeit, and she had very frequently found herself to be in the wrong place, or there at the wrong time, in a variety of scenarios, from dance auditions to potential relationships that were inevitably doomed to fail. She supposed if she could have selected for herself when this phenomenon of optimum time and location would present itself to her, during the Quidditch Final might have crossed her mind as an agreeable period. The law of averages dictated that it had to have happened, sooner or later, that she was simply in the right time and the right place to steal the Quaffle mid-pass between Aladrens; between Daniel and one of his teammates, to be precise. That it happened twice in one game just demonstrated to Charlie that despite Aladren’s apparent improvement on last year’s efforts, Crotalus still had the better Chasing team... or at any rate, she was better than Daniel.

Her own pass hadn’t gone entirely as planned, given that a little Carey got in her way and tried to take the Quaffle back away. Luckily, Sam was on the ball – literally, in this case – and retrieved it back for them. Then Charlie had watched, as if in slow motion, as Arthur got in and took the ball a second time. Were there two of this kid or something? She was vaguely aware he had a twin, but the other mini Carey was supposed to be Seeker, right? Probably only one of them on the Chasing team, then, which forced the Crotalus captain to draw the frustrating conclusion that Aladren really had upped their game from last year. Considering their game then had left most of her team being treated by the medic, that didn’t bode especially well for Crotalus. On the other hand, they still had a full team, and even if Nic... Oh no, the Quaffle was heading back towards Nic. They were already ten points down. Another goal wouldn’t change the outcome of the game, but it would be humiliating. The only thing for it was to embrace the Crotalus tradition of the past few years: get down the other end of the pitch and get the Quaffle away from the Crotalus goals before it was too late. It was just as well Charlie actually liked Nic, or she very well might have killed him following one of his many previous failures. The fact that she had to beg and bribe him to rejoin the team again this year, as nobody else had signed up, was neither here nor there.

Despite him trying to hide it, Charlie had seen the Quaffle land once again in Daniel’s hands. She didn’t even have interception in mind as she flew ahead of him, simply aiming to get in the way of whoever tried to take a shot at goal – she even thought Daniel might try for goal himself, until he made an abrupt pass that enabled her, by jolting, swerving and stretching more than a Carey would believe an eighteen year old girl could do, to knock the ball off course, and then chase it with her fingertips, pulling the ball in close to her chest as her heart thumped its way out of it. She was dimly aware that a Bludger had been hit somewhere nearby, and that’s probably what had forced Daniel to pass when he could have scored, and she grinned outwardly as inwardly she blessed whichever Beater – be he Crotalus or otherwise – that had enabled her team to regain possession, however briefly.

While the knowledge of a Bludger being hit nearby, without the comfort of knowing it was towards the opposition, heightened Charlie’s anxiety, she was nevertheless keen to do all that was in her power to keep the ball away from Nic. She took a longer run than she usually would have back down the pitch, keeping her ears honed for the whistle of a Bludger that may or may not be on her tail, and only after she’d put a reasonable (but not sanity-questioning) distance between her point of interception and her current bearings. Then, when she saw a decent enough opening to one of her teammates, she took it, keeping the pass clean and simple. She didn’t think the more confusing ones were any more difficult to intercept, and she wasn’t trying to baffle the newbie Keeper just yet – just getting into the scoring zone would be an improvement on their game so far. Merlin, if Marissa could catch the Snitch right now it probably wouldn’t be too soon for their team.

0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain You wish 0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain 0 5

Renée Errant {Chaser}

October 01, 2011 3:46 PM

Okay, can we safely assume it's ours now? by Renée Errant {Chaser}

Rain splattering on red and blue robes had created a sort of water color painting, not yet dry, still dripping, that made it hard for Renée to follow. She was still flying, back and forth, circling the field, trying to get a hold of passes, make interceptions, growing increasingly startled by her failures and even more by the prickle of self disgust growing within her. 'I'm not perfect... nobody's perfect... but I'm supposed to be here!' She was supposed to be perfect in the air, and she wasn't supposed to feel bad when she wasn't in the air, and nothing was going right. It was raining (it was not), she was miserable, she felt heavy, she felt like she was sinking in the air (she wanted to sink), like the wood, sleek as it was, fast as it was, couldn't sustain her. Bludgers whizzed over her head. She longed for the excuse to leave the game. 'Take me out. Take me out. Take me out.' It didn't though, so she kept flying, arms reaching out, for the Quaffle, gaining nothing but air. 'Useless... worthless... Yo quiero ir a casa.'

In between freezing droplets, Charlie suddenly appeared and Renée realized they were heading toward Aladren goals. She blinked, arms again stretching out, hands again not expecting to feel anything. But something suddenly made contact, leather against soft skin, and darkly tanned fingers curled around it, gripping tightly. 'Oh. Oh - oh right. Okay. No big deal. I got it now.' A moment of her flying, a moment of rain, a moment of surprise... "Yes!" Tucking the Quaffle in safely in the crook of her arm, Renée leaned forward and shot off through parted sheets of rain, starting to feel the sun on her scalp, the few exposed places on her skin, brighteneing the wide smile spread on her face. She had the Quaffle, she had the Quaffle. 'I have the Quaffle. I have the Quaffle.' The Febre, a four year old model made for speed, dexterity, and longevity had grown increasingly attuned to her subtle commands on the broom. Her body pointing straight, Renée could feel the presence of an Aladren chaser, and shifted her hips left, breaking into a sudden dive, spying a nearby Crotalus chaser.

She wanted badly to continue Charlie's race toward the goals. The Aladren Chasers were a challenge, not their minuscule keeper. But that would be the sort of recklessness that wasn't at all useful, so instead Renée used the first chance she got to pass, the distance not so far but with room for interception. Within the dive she drew back her arm, tucked Quaffle rolling in a balanced descent down the length of it to land cradled in the palm of her hand. She drew her arm back, her hips shifting to the right, and threw. Red leather sped toward a Crotalus Chaser while red clothing flesh arched over it, Renée doing her best to get in the way of any following Aladrens, figuring she would be able to block at least one. 'Perfect.'

She felt re-energized, she felt good. A few strands (she'd yet to manage being able to keep them all tucked in) whipped around her face, teasing the edges of her vision, and she reveled in the wind she and the other players caused. A whirlwind of competition, winnings and losses. Teamwork and success, and frustration. It was easier, more exciting, to deal with all that here, in the air, where it didn't really matter, but it was all that mattered, the only thing that mattered because the important, annoying, hard, frustrating, terrifying, brutal, horrible, real things were stuck at the bottom. Waiting for her, but for now unable to reach. 'Marissa... don't catch the snitch. Not yet.' The game needed to go on. Forever and ever and ever.

0 Renée Errant {Chaser} Okay, can we safely assume it's ours now? 0 Renée Errant {Chaser} 0 5

Paul Bennett, Beater

October 01, 2011 4:24 PM

...Maybe? by Paul Bennett, Beater

He should, Paul felt sure, have been panicking. He was playing Quidditch for the second time with a mass audience, and he was doing it in the final, against a team full of Careys, one of whom was a very big Beater. Sane people didn’t do things with people who were genetically inclined toward liking excessive violence when the activity they were engaging in was inherently violent and the member of the violent group was in the most violent position. Yes, he had a bat to protect ~~himself~~ the members of his team with, but as he looked at Edmond Carey, who was smiling at Marissa in what Paul imagined was a very threatening way, it felt like a rotten stick that would break if he touched his broom with it.

Despite all this, though, he wasn’t panicking. He felt a little sick, and definitely felt that feeling Eliza had described where it was like something very heavy was trying to force its way up his throat and it was made of pure dread, like he knew things could fall apart at any given moment, but he wasn’t actually panicking. It was in hand. He was moving along, even smiling and nodding at people. It was as though he had gone crazy.

He decided not to mention it to anyone. There were likely worse kinds of crazy to be, and it was being useful so far. Maybe it would even get him through the whole game, and then he could go back to being his usual sane, self-preserving self without a moment’s reluctance. Next year, he would have the same problem, since they were the team without an alternate this year and he thought some of the others on the team might hurt him if he tried to quit, but that was next year.

The whistle blew, and they were up in the air. He took a few deep breaths as he started to fly, moving his shoulders a little, trying to loosen them up. To his surprise, it actually worked a little. Paul had never been the most outdoorsy type, but it was a beautiful day, the kind that even his older sister wouldn’t have minded coming out on if the bugs were repelled, and there was something about that and, as little as he liked to admit it, the competition that started to make him feel better almost at once.

He doubted it was doing much good for the Chasers, though; they were too focused on their little back and forth to notice much besides what was happening with the Quaffle. Paul found another reason, besides getting to have one of the bats in his current position, to be glad he was not one of them. All the going back and forth would drive him crazy, and plus, there was something personal about it when a Keeper saved. Bludgers were active enough that their going a little off-course could be written off, but the Quaffle wasn’t. That was just a matter of being better than the Keeper.

Or lucky. Paul was willing to admit that luck was a factor in this sometimes. But mainly it was about being better than the other guy.

Right now, it didn’t look very much like anyone was going to get to risk feeling inadequate after a confrontation with a Keeper, but the Aladrens were giving it their all. He swung at a Bludger to keep it from breaking his nose and sent it toward one of the Aladren Chasers, hoping to slow them a little and give his team a better chance.

0 Paul Bennett, Beater ...Maybe? 201 Paul Bennett, Beater 0 5

Arnold Carey, Seeker

October 01, 2011 8:36 PM

That's a dangerous thing to do by Arnold Carey, Seeker

“Come on, come on, let’s go,” Arnold kept muttering under his breath all the way through breakfast, in between shoving bites of food into his mouth until Arthur stopped glaring at him. Art didn’t seem terribly interested in his own food, but had repeated himself about it being important to eat an appropriate light meal before becoming active when Arnold just wanted to get down to the Pitch or at least the flying room in MARS until Arnold gave in and accompanied him to the Hall. When he had finally finished what was on the plate, he was off his seat so quickly that he had to actually stand for a moment to wait for Arthur to get up and then set off so quickly that Arthur had to make use of longer legs just to keep up.

Marissa Stephenson was as much older than him as she’d been last year, and Crotalus’ returning Beater had succeeded in hurting him last year, too, but he wasn’t feeling nervous about the game, or resigned to the situation, or anything like that. Those thoughts had bothered him very slightly yesterday, and occurred to him tangentially today, but the excitement of the game had been building for weeks, making the danger to his bones seem less and less important. Now, on the morning, he could barely consider that a consideration at all. He was too energetic to think too much in general.

Once he was on the Pitch, that impatience only got stronger with the slight edge of nerves about whether he’d win that intruded somehow on his optimism, and he found himself smiling broadly when it turned out that Daniel didn’t have a long speech for them. Maybe the captain felt his own impatience to play, or maybe he just didn’t have much to say, but either way, it didn’t drag the suspense out any further.

When they were finally able to kick off, he flew a few long loops just to burn off some of that energy, glancing toward Marissa often enough to make sure she wasn’t making any sudden dives for the Snitch. She wasn’t, though, and Edmond seemed interested in taking her out of the game before it even really began. Arnold was almost disappointed, since part of the fun was having someone to compete against, but he did have enough sense not to say that around anyone else on the team. They would have thought he was crazy at best. Once he felt a little calmer, he started looking for the Snitch himself, just to be sure it wasn’t where Marissa could be sensible and try to end things quickly.

0 Arnold Carey, Seeker That's a dangerous thing to do 181 Arnold Carey, Seeker 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

October 01, 2011 9:11 PM

No. by Arthur Carey, Chaser

For a moment, things went the way Arthur wanted them to, and Daniel completed the pass he had begun. Then Miss Abbott swept in and stole the Quaffle, and they were right back to the place where they had started.

This time, Arthur was irritated enough by not being in the right place at the right time that it blocked out his awareness of everything else, just for a moment. A moment too long. He did come back to full awareness of what was going on around him in time to hear a Bludger coming from somewhere, but it was too late to dodge it completely. He pulled his arm in instinctively and pulled away, catching it on his left shoulder instead of having his arm broken.

The arm would have been worse. Dimly, he was aware of that. If he had broken the arm, he would have…perhaps not step out to be fixed, to have it fixed, but it would have hurt worse than this, would have slowed him down more than this. He might have lost all use of the arm instead of just some. Probably would have. But this still hurt, enough that he found himself blinking hard and biting his bottom lip until he worried about it, too, and, after a moment, that he began to feel more than a little sick. I am not going to vomit in front of the entire school, he told himself firmly. I am not. There are standards to be maintained….

There was something odd about that thought. He couldn’t quite place it, but he was sure there was something strange about it.

The broom had sort of kept going forward without him doing more than holding on, and he found himself being blocked by Miss Errant, who’d just completed a pass. Something about that made him think again, and with a grimace of irritation, he went around her, looking for where the Quaffle had landed and willing the arm to hurt less. He had hurt worse by the end last year, and if nothing else, though he didn’t think it was that bad yet, he could get in the way of people who were threatening Daniel and Russell’s attempts to keep the Quaffle. He just had to stop thinking about it hurting and focus on something else until the game was over, then he could have it cared for.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser No. 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Topher Calhoun, Beater

October 02, 2011 2:48 AM

You're...not really one to talk. by Topher Calhoun, Beater

Here it was again. The Quidditch final. Against Aladren, just like last year. Topher couldn't wait.

Well, maybe some Topher in some other timeline couldn't wait, anyway. The one he thought was him was being sarcastic in his head to cover the thought of really not wanting to have to live up to his reputation for being the crazy guy who went toe-to-toe with a homicidal person three times his size and won, or at least lived to tell about it.

Physically, he thought the odds of that hadn't changed much. He had grown taller, but since the food he ate all seemed to go to that and made no other impression on his body past his tongue, it just meant he was almost further from the classic Beater build than he had been. Maybe the robes kept him from looking as narrow as he was to the opposition, but it didn't change his hitting ability, and most of these guys saw him in class every day anyway. Heck, one of them knew where he lived. The chances of him intimidating anyone were as low as the chances of Edmond Carey knocking someone off a broom before the game ended were high.

He guessed he'd just have to do his best. A guy in fancy robes carrying a big club was a more impressive sight than that of the same guy in normal clothes and no club, even if they did have the same unremarkable face and uninspired haircut.

Charlie, to his relief, didn't hold them long with her final pregame speech, and there wasn't any drama in the starting ritual with the captains, and soon, they were in the air. Almost immediately, Topher realized he'd somehow gotten stuck with the Seekers again, but didn't have much time to curse his luck before the first attack on Marissa came and he had to hurry over and deflect it, and hope devoutly as it sailed toward Arnold that he wasn't going to end up playing Bludger tennis with Edmond this early in the game. This could theoretically go on for hours, and he didn't think he had that kind of stamina.

0 Topher Calhoun, Beater You're...not really one to talk. 0 Topher Calhoun, Beater 0 5

Charlie, Chaser, Captain

October 02, 2011 7:01 AM

Guess again. by Charlie, Chaser, Captain

Making a successful pass without interception had never felt so sweet. They did this thing all the time during practises, and usually with greater frequency in game, too, but for some reason the Quaffle had been extra difficult to retain in one team’s possession today. So when Renée caught her pass, Charlie felt a thrill of victory almost as great as if they’d actually scored a goal. Of course, she reminded herself, they hadn’t accomplished that yet, but with the Quaffle still in Crotalus possession, and making its way rapidly towards the Aladren-kept goals, that reality could be about to change.

Regaining her focus, Charlie stayed with one eye on Renée as she continued on her own path, trying to stay more or less free of Aladren Chasers, and put herself in an optimum position to receive a return pass when her teammate felt it appropriate. She didn’t have to wait long; Charlotte saw Renée shift her weight, and so the captain took a good look round for potential interceptors, and, seeing no Aladrens in a threatening position, prepared herself to receive the pass. It was a simple over-arm, which Charlie caught without trouble. She tucked the ball in towards her, and maintained her course to the goals.

Theoretically, anything they tried on this Keeper would work, because everything would be new to her. Unless, of course, she was some Keeper prodigy who’d been moulded since she could sit straight on a broom, and that just didn’t seem likely, even on a team full of Careys. This teeny girl still wouldn’t have faced the Crotalus Chasers and, despite current evidence to the contrary, they were a damned good Chasing team. Charlie felt as though that point needed to be proved. So she flew straight and true towards the middle goalpost, and then began veering a little towards the left. She could possibly feint towards one and throw at the other, and score a goal that way. To err on the side of caution, however, Charlie feinted towards the left hoop, and then passed the ball in the opposite direction entirely, to the Crotalus Chaser she’d been watching out of the corner of her eye.

Just in case it would serve to further confuse the first year Keeper, Charlie kept on course towards the left hoop even after she’d released the Quaffle. It had served to confuse Nic, so it wasn’t impractical to assume it would work again.

0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain Guess again. 0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain 0 5

Renée Errant {Chaser}

October 02, 2011 7:28 AM

I'm guessing success! by Renée Errant {Chaser}

She managed to block Arthur Carey but he was already swerving around her and at a better angle to go after Charlie quicker. Renée, feeling a slight dizziness, went into an all-encompassing circle around the mass of gathered players following the Quaffle and Charlie, instead of a sharper turn. Blinking rapidly, clearing the slightly spotted vision, she leaned forward again and dove once more into the fray, going wide, getting clear enough for Charlie to pass to, but they were nearing the goals and she could just tell Captain Charlie was going to score. It was the last game, the last championship game, the last championship game Charlie would ever play, and Renée wanted to see Charlie score as well. ‘Go! Go! Go! Dispara!’ She flanked Charlie, rising with her in the air as they leveled with the goal hoops and Aladen’s Keeper. She felt swept up by Charlie’s power, Charlie’s silent and easily communicated insistence that she, Sam, and Renée show Aladren, and those distance spots in the faraway stands why they were the best team in the school. The most effective chasing team offered in the school.

She was a few feet away when Charlie threw to the left goal hoop... except it was nothing but an excellent feint and the Quaffle was heading toward Renée, red leather slapping with familiar greeting against her palms. She didn’t think. The energy, the vibrancy flushed her skin, urging her to continue on. Without hesitation, with power and accuracy she trained for, Renée palmed the Quaffle in her left hand, gripping her Febre with nothing but her thighs and threw hard and fast toward the right goal hoop, a grin of preemptive success brightening up her features. But the success was in the electricity humming through the air, static from a sunny storm. She felt the rain again, but it didn’t mean her mind was sad, her mind was steeped in concrete. It meant she felt fresh, she felt alive, she felt free, as that Quaffle was, speeding and spinning toward the right goal hoop.

It was in these moments, during games, when all that adrenaline coursing through her ceased for a millisecond, just enough for her to realize and assess just how much exertion she was performing, how tired she really was. A strained muscle, heart beating too fast, occasionally a bludger injury that was about to knock her out... nothing, not today. Not right now. Thin sheets of sweat, curls gone wild into her eyes and out again, hands gripping hard on the sleek wood, her thighs feeling a little less than comfortable but an adjustment and they were right back to good. Renée hovered in the air, arm following through with her throw. ‘For Crotalus. For Charlie’s last game. For...’ She grinned. ‘For me, obviously.’ In her excitement she rocked backwards a little too hard and she leaned forward again, a light giggle escaping her, steadying herself on her broom. She had to get ready for the next play. She knew that. Whether or not it was a save or a miss, she was supposed to help set it up for the next attempt of a shoot, a score. She stayed still, in place, hovering in the air, bobbing as the currents rocked her back and forth. Her eyes trained on the Quaffle, waiting for the glorified score.

0 Renée Errant {Chaser} I'm guessing success! 0 Renée Errant {Chaser} 0 5

<color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color>

October 02, 2011 11:08 AM

….Pineapple! by <color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color>

Back and forth, back and forth, the Quaffle simply refused to commit to either direction, instead going a few lengths towards the opposite goals, then a few lengths back to her goals with out ever making it all the way. Aladren had been able to get one goal in, earlier in the game, but it seemed that the bulk of the game had been a stalemate where nether team could hold on to the Quaffle long enough to score again.

Cringing as a bludger slammed into Arthur, Kitty saw that it looked like the stalemate had finally come to an end. Please be okay... Kitty thought, still more focused on Arthur than on the red chasers headed her direction. She’d never been hit by a bludger herself, but knew that the balls could do a lot of damage. It didn’t matter as much to her when it was the other team being hit, but when it was one of her own...she didn’t like it! What if he was really hurt? The Carey’s weren’t the friendliest sort, but Kitty enjoyed talking to them and would hate to see any of them get really hurt.

The boy in blue robes didn’t go flying off his broom towards the hard ground. Kitty figured that was probably a great sign that he wasn’t truly injured and forced herself to get her head back in the game. It was just so different! Practices were intense, but somehow they didn’t come close to this. Even her first game didn’t have this level of intensity. The only shot taken at her goals then had been by a girl who hadn’t even aimed. Kitty was quite sure that this shot would be nothing at all like that. Another problem was that she knew her team after so many practices, knew how they moved and how they would score. But Crotalus was not Aladren, and their movements and actions were not the same. She felt like she’d never tried to block a shot before in her life as the red robed chasers made their run.

Then, suddenly it wasn’t so different after all. Kitty had been lingering between the center and left goals watching as the red robe with the Quaffle headed straight for her. Left, center, left, center... Kitty thought as she watched. Then, in a move she’d seen a million times before in practices the red ball instead of going towards one of the goals shot over to a chaser on the other side, even though both chasers continued forward in an attempt to confuse her. After all, passing the Quaffle off when it looked like he was going to take the shot was one of Captain Danial’s favorite moves.

Completely ignoring the the chaser who passed Kitty zoomed as fast as her broom would take her towards the far right as just as the Quaffle left the other red robe’s hands. Knees gripping the broom tightly Kitty reached forward leaning her slight form further to give her extra reach. Almost...almost....GOT IT! She could feel the red leather in her finger tips, but just before she could get a full grip on it, it slid right though her hands...straight thought he hoop. For a second she couldn’t even move as she heard the crowd cheer for the goal being made. She...she MISSED!

Furious at herself for letting the team down, for getting so close only to miss it in the end Kitty dove catching the red ball before it got half way to the ground. Shooting back up to her goals Kitty threw the ball as hard as she could at one of the blue robed chasers, her heart shaped face flaming red with embarrassment of having missed the first real shot ever.

0 <color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color> ….Pineapple! 0 <color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color> 0 5

Arnold Carey, Seeker

October 02, 2011 11:44 AM

Are any of us? by Arnold Carey, Seeker

Last year, at least at first, Arnold had been close enough to awed by the reputation of Edmond's branch and the idea of someone close enough to his age to attend the same school for a few years being almost as important as the Fourth that he hadn't really noticed much else about the individual who possessed those attributes. That had changed. They weren't what he would call friends, close cousins, or anything like that, but while he could be a bit strange at times, Arnold trusted Edmond, at least out here. On the Quidditch Pitch, Arnold was now confident that Edmond would never let him get hurt if it could be avoided in the strictest sense of the term. So when he saw Edmond going after Marissa, he wasn't too pleased by the idea of having no real game, but he didn't think too much more about Crotalus-Aladren relations as they pertained to him. Was the first year really going to get involved in this?

Unfortunately for him, he had forgotten that one of Crotalus' Beaters was a second year, and that said second year was almost sheerly determined enough to be an Aladren. If the Bludger had hit him an inch lower, he was pretty sure he would have had no right elbow. Most would be surprised to hear it, but he had spent enough time with his mother and a few times Healers after picking fights with thunderstorms and crashing into trees that he had amassed a decent amount of medical knowledge, at least about the kinds of injuries he tended to end up with and if not as extensive a knowledge as his twin's.

Oh, this wasn't good. Unless Marissa had also been injured, Crotalus now had two advantages, and him being hurt was a bigger one than her having more experience. He didn't really care about experience, he'd beaten every other Seeker in the school and two of them had more experience than he did and one was Marissa herself, but he was right-handed. Mechanics might come into it now.

Still, he couldn't give up. They had an alternate, but Arnold thought he could still keep playing. He was going to have one heck of a bruise later, but if worst came to worst, he could use his left hand well enough to reach out and grab something.

0 Arnold Carey, Seeker Are any of us? 181 Arnold Carey, Seeker 0 5

Coach Pierce

October 03, 2011 11:51 AM

Crotalus scores! 10-10 (nm) by Coach Pierce

0 Coach Pierce Crotalus scores! 10-10 (nm) 0 Coach Pierce 0 5

Coach Pierce

October 03, 2011 12:13 PM

Recentering by Coach Pierce

The game starts on a beautiful spring day and both Captains keep their speeches short, trusting their competent teams to know what to do.

The Seekers:
-Marissa looks around
-Edmond hits a bludger at her
-Arnold looks around
-Topher redirects the bludger at Marissa to Arnold
-Arnold gets hit on the right arm but stays on his broom

The Chasers:
-Arthur gets it for Aladren, fakes to Russell, passes to Daniel, and gets in Sam's way
-Daniel catches and stealth-passes to Russell and pretends to make a run on goals
-Russell scores though Nic brushed his fingers against the ball; 10-0 Aladren
-Nic tosses to Sam
-Sam tosses to Renee
-Renee is confused about whether or not it's raining but it doesn't stop her from making fancy moves or a pass to Charlie
-Russell gets shaken from Renee's tail
-Daniel intercepts Renee's pass and makes a pass of his own
-Charlie intercepts back and makes a pass of her own
-Arthur intercepts and makes a pass of his own
-Sam intercepts and makes a pass of his own
-Arthur intercepts and makes a pass of his own
-Daniel actually completes the pass and makes a pass as well
-Daniel was an anomoly because Charlie intercepts and passes
-Renee repeats the anomoly and completes that pass then she passes
-Paul hits a bludger at Arthur
-Arthur is hit on the shoulder but stays on his broom
-Charlie completes Renee's pass and runs on Aldren's goal, but stealth-passes before making an attempt
-Renee makes the shot
-Kitty's there, but it slips through her fingers. Crotalus scores: 10-10.
-Ball is currently on it way from Kitty to an Aladren chaser

0 Coach Pierce Recentering 0 Coach Pierce 0 5

Russell Layne, Chaser

October 03, 2011 4:21 PM

Restarting the madness. by Russell Layne, Chaser

When he was at home, Russell had a habit of fitting in the odd adventure novel that might or might not actually make into onto one of the long lists he kept of what he’d read in a year. There were lots of them, really, things he read purely for escapist, low-thinking pleasure, but one specific one was coming to mind right now, where the Auror narrator, shortly before having to go on the run, talked about sheer reflex taking over from conscious thought after a while during a fight.

This wasn’t a fight, and he wasn’t anywhere near exhausted yet, but things had started happening rapidly enough that he wasn’t really following the particulars anymore. There were red robes, blue robes, and the red ball moving between them, and that last was the only one he was bothering to identify more specifically. All that mattered was keeping the ball in his sights and going for it when Crotali were passing if the opening looked wide enough, and compared to that, remembering the sequence of plays didn’t seem that urgent, so he didn't really do it.

Still, though, bits of detail got into his brain. The crack of bats on iron. Arthur’s injury. Being prevented from preventing another Crotalus pass, and how the Crotali then reached Kitty…who chose now, of all the possible moments, to not be on top of her game. Russell scowled, not so much at her as at the whole event. They’d just lost the edge that came from having a lead.

At least there was a nice, simple solution to having a problem like that. If they wanted the edge back, they just had to get the lead back. It would be done more easily if the Beaters could injure a Crotalus or two, but either way, they’d do it.

When Kitty threw the ball back out, Russell flew forward and snatched it out of the air, some of the energy the disappointment had drained from him coming back, and sped back down the Pitch, clearing about half of the space between the goals and the central line before finding an opening and trying for a close pass to one of his teammates. If Crotalus intercepted, he wanted time to get it back before they could try another goal.

16 Russell Layne, Chaser Restarting the madness. 183 Russell Layne, Chaser 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

October 03, 2011 10:13 PM

Madness was last year. This is just being high-strung. by Arthur Carey, Chaser

His shoulder was sore, and Arthur didn’t like that, but he had gone through enough lessons with his headaches to shove that fact aside until he had time to deal with it. He wasn’t at his best, pain did interfere with him working as well as he could without it, but once the first moment was over, he didn’t think it affected him enough to really damage his performance unless something actually broke.

That his opinion on this matter was highly subjective was, though, something that had occurred to him. He glanced up at his twin, silently willing Arnold to catch the Snitch quickly. Him not being quite as good as he thought he was right now wouldn’t be a disaster, but neither was it something he cared to have shown to him in graphic detail over a long period of time by the Crotalus Chasers, reinforced by the curses of his teammates. Though at least, in the aftermath of the failed save and Russell’s expression at seeing it, he thought some of those might be directed at Katrina as well if it came to that. He didn’t wish anything unpleasant on her for her own sake, he was actually a little fond of her in a way not too unlike the way he might be fond of a slightly unruly but affectionate puppy, but it was good, sometimes, not to be alone.

Russell got the Quaffle back, and they were off. Arthur grimaced himself, for his shoulder rather than the game, and followed…and followed. It seemed that Russell was taking out his frustration with things in a productive but slightly unsafe way, the fallibility of the Aladren Beaters having just been demonstrated by that lucky shot the small Crotalus Beater had gotten on him. When his roommate finally passed, though, Arthur was there, and though it wasn’t the most graceful reception he had ever managed, he got the Quaffle out of the air and away from the hands of any threatening Crotali.

Right. It was theirs again, and it was down to him to keep it that way. Hoping his luck was in, a tactic he usually disapproved of his brother using but abused himself as he needed to, he sped up and headed further ahead yet, approaching the center of the Pitch and the return to the proper side of it.

He was tempted, deeply tempted, to cross it in triumph, but his sore shoulder was an effective deterrent against heroism, so he checked to make sure there was no Crotalus right on his tail that moment and then passed.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser Madness was last year. This is just being high-strung. 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Captain Nash, Chaser

October 04, 2011 12:11 PM

We're just sanity challenged this year, not utterly crazy by Captain Nash, Chaser

Daniel was concerned. Charlie had intercepted both of the passes he had attempted today and her second one had resulted in a Crotalus run on the goals which had actually scored. Worse, both of his Carey twins were injured and none of the Crotali were. This did not bode well.

He still had David waiting on ground, so it wasn't as bad as it would be if he didn't have an alternate, and both injured Careys seemed willing and able to carry on in their current state, but he would have liked it better if the injuries had gone in the other direction like they had the last game. He spared a moment to frown at both Edmond and Preston to get on that, but then the ball was back in play and he didn't have time to give his beaters any verbal instructions.

He did spare one moment to yell an encouragement to Kitty since she was the new kid on the team and he didn't want her to lose confidence for the next attempt Crotalus might make. Not that Daniel had any intention of letting the red ball get anywhere near her again if he could help it.

Russell passed successfully to Arthur and Arthur got it nearly to the center line before passing to Daniel and Daniel caught it easily. The throw hadn't been one of Arthur's best of all time, of course, but it proved well enough that the second year was still able to play competently enough that substituting David wasn't yet neccessary.

Daniel hugged the Quaffle to his chest and crossed the center line back into Crotalus territory, which is where it should be. His run took them most of the third quarter of the pitch's length, and he passed one more time, expecting they were close enough now that a run on the goals wasn't just possible but obvious.

If the pass was successful, he would rush his broom forward to set himself up above and off to the side for a future play. But if Charlie got it again, he would scream.

0 Captain Nash, Chaser We're just sanity challenged this year, not utterly crazy 0 Captain Nash, Chaser 0 5

Paul Bennett, Beater

October 04, 2011 11:40 PM

Good for you. Have a Bludger! by Paul Bennett, Beater

After he hit the Bludger toward Arthur, Paul’s stomach swooped nauseatingly for a moment – I just tried to knock the head off a Carey. One of them tied my uncle in more knots than all of Gemma’s dolls’ hair ribbons put together, and I just tried to knock another one’s head off him – but then steadied. He’d done that, and the world had not ended. In fact, his team had benefited from it. That was good. That was what he was after. Maybe it had nothing to do with Crotalus managing to tie the score, but he liked to imagine it did.

Then the game was on again, moving back toward his end…and with remarkable efficiency. It would have been great if a Bludger had been where he could get a decent shot, since they were moving over long distances without passing or moving far from each other in formation and that made whichever one had the Quaffle – or even the player closest to him or furthest from a Crotalus, Paul wasn’t picky – a prime target, but by the time he got one, they had generally moved on, so it went sailing toward air – or worse, in one moment he prayed Charlie hadn’t noticed, toward one of the Aladren Beaters. If he had a greatest moment, that wasn’t it, though at least a Crotalus didn’t get hit that he saw.

He was starting to get frustrated with that when, finally, things fell together so he was able to hit a Bludger at Daniel Nash the very same moment – too late to get him as the Quaffle-bearer, but the captain was as good here – the Head Boy began to pass.

Paul didn’t hold any high hopes for the move. Arthur Carey was not so large or experienced as his captain, and Paul hadn’t been able to take him out of play, so he might not even significantly slow down the seventh year. But if he could insignificantly slow down all three of the Aladren Chasers – ambitious, maybe, but even he wasn’t completely immune to the bolstering effects of adrenaline – then surely the Crotalus Chasers could make something for themselves out of that opportunity. If not, then he would be tempted to let them have what they got without trying to help them out of sheer disgust. He wouldn’t do it, because he feared the Chasers, but he’d really want to.

0 Paul Bennett, Beater Good for you. Have a Bludger! 201 Paul Bennett, Beater 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

October 04, 2011 11:43 PM

You can keep it - we'd rather have ten more points. by Arthur Carey, Chaser

No, Arthur thought, it hadn’t been the prettiest pass he had ever made, and he did pride himself on doing whatever he did well and avoiding things he didn’t do well, but it had been effective. The relief over that was enough to dispel most of his aesthetic objections to the action. It had gotten where it needed to be, that was all that mattered. Crotalus hadn’t gotten in the way again.

It seemed that he and Russell were not completely being thirteen and stupid, though, in being a little over-vigorous in trying to prevent the Crotali from getting anywhere near Katrina again if they did manage to get in the way, because Daniel took care of most of the rest of the field. It looked like he was playing for a goal, either for himself or after one more pass. Well, that would be good; he was a bit bruised, now, so the Crotali might think they had an advantage if they didn’t take care to drive any thought of one out of their heads right away. Getting the lead back would, he thought, be a good step in that direction, along with Edmond and Preston waking up and breaking some bones that weren’t his and Arnold’s. He hadn’t been paying attention when his brother was hit, but he’d glanced that way, and he knew Arnold well enough to recognize the way he was holding himself as pained.

That bothered him more than his own injury. Arnold was the Seeker. Arnold wasn’t supposed to be allowed in that sort of position in the first place. He, Arthur, was somewhat expendable in this context; his brother was not. What was Edmond doing? Yes, Christopher was a strange person, but that was no reason to let things go this far wrong.

He had thought there might be a pass, but he wasn’t expecting it to be to him, and it came as a surprise when the ball began heading his way. Still, he grabbed it and kept flying. He’d break his other arm cheerfully and do a little dance before the Hall before he let the Crotali have it back this close to the Crotalus-guarded goals when retaining it for Aladren had been left down to him. It just wasn’t something that was going to happen today.

Now came the goal. If Mr. Sawyer had noticed Arthur getting hit by the Bludger, he would most likely not expect Arthur to be the one to take the shot. That could work for them or against them, depending on how sound Arthur’s judgment was at the moment, and he wouldn’t know that until it was all said and done. Not shrugging, since that would have hurt and wasn’t a good idea at high speeds anyway, except in his mind, he feinted back toward another Aladren player on his left before shooting, aiming for the right hoop, hard and at an angle away from what he hoped was the direction of Mr. Sawyer’s body.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser You can keep it - we'd rather have ten more points. 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Edmond Carey, Beater

October 05, 2011 1:10 AM

I'm not a Seeker, but I'll restart the section of the thread by Edmond Carey, Beater

Edmond saw there was nothing he could do to prevent Arnold from being hit a moment before it all happened, but he still winced when his cousin failed to dodge on his own. That must have hurt, and he wondered for a moment, though he knew Arnold wouldn’t have willingly gotten off the broom conscious even before that first year had played the whole game with a broken arm before Christmas, if perhaps the younger Aladren ought to see the medic.

Just a moment. It wasn’t going to happen, and while the Bludger hitting Arnold was bad for the Aladren team, it also provided a sort of opportunity. “Keep looking,” he called to Arnold in passing, following the Bludger, which had been slightly slowed by its contact with something. Catching it, he hit it as hard as he could toward Marissa. As deeply ingrained as being a gentleman was in him, it could be at least temporarily mostly suppressed to let him focus on things like how they needed to at least even the situation up, if not make it worse for Crotalus.

Besides, there was a medic on hand, and she’d not even blacked out after a direct hit or two last year. She’d missed the Snitch because of it, but that was all he could remember happening, and that was most of what a Beater was for anyway, slowing down the other Seeker just enough for his own battered Seeker to prevail in the game. He had spent most of the past year drilling himself on the finer points of what was real and what was not and how this was one of the things that was not until he thought he actually understood it again. Marissa would be fine. The worst that would happen to her was a blow to her pride when Aladren won.

Plus, the rest of his team was having trouble keeping the Quaffle around the Crotali in the main game, and if Marissa was temporarily made less of a threat, then that might give him a moment to go help with that. Just a moment, and only if Topher was also out of the way since Arnold was already injured and they couldn’t afford for him to get hurt again, but maybe he could give the Chasers a bit of an easier time if this worked out the way he hoped – well, planned, anyway – for it to.

0 Edmond Carey, Beater I'm not a Seeker, but I'll restart the section of the thread 0 Edmond Carey, Beater 0 5

Marissa Stephenson,Seeker

October 06, 2011 10:14 AM

You really didn't have to. by Marissa Stephenson,Seeker

Splitting her attention so many ways wasn’t what came naturally to Marissa – it was supposed to be the thing for her whole generation, but she wasn’t really good at multitasking in general; she guessed it was not having a cell phone nine months out of the year or something – but she had been a Seeker long enough to be used to looking for the Snitch while still being very aware of what was going on with the Beaters, especially when there was more than one Beater in the immediate vicinity. She felt more like she should be the one protecting Topher instead of the other way around, but still winced a little when she realized Arnold was hit. Bludger blows weren’t fun even if the Beater directing them wasn’t very big, particularly when the person being hit wasn’t very big, either.

Even considering that, though, she didn’t feel too bad for Arnold. The Aladren Seeker had a reputation for being a little on the insane, masochistic, or insanely masochistic side after just one year for a good reason, and she didn’t really expect one hit to stop him. If she wanted to win, she was going to have to be as on her toes as she’d ever been, especially since the Aladrens were probably going to want revenge for their boy getting a little bruised when there wasn’t even a chase for the Snitch going on.

A chase for the Snitch. She hurriedly rid herself of the very thought of that, lest it somehow make one happen. The Beaters would most likely break them both to pieces, the way they very nearly had last year, if one of those happened, trying to prevent the one they didn’t like from getting to it first. She wouldn’t mind if Arnold caught the worst of it, since he had a better broom if they did end up neck in neck, but there was no way to guarantee he would. If they were that close together, then they might get hit by their own Beaters by mistake.

Goodness, let them just not interfere if it came to that. As little as she wanted to lose, she wanted to be injured on top of losing less.

She glanced around, her eyes moving over the ground, when…there. There it was. The sparkle. She dove…

And half-gasped, half cried out as a Bludger slammed into her side. If she hadn’t been clinging tightly to it, as she still did when she first started heading downward in a way that Muggle physics would not have much liked, she thought she would have fallen off the broom, but as it was, she found herself changing directions in a way that would have been sickening even if she hadn’t been hurt.

Somehow, she got control again, and her hands went automatically to the hurt place before she forced them back to the broom. Sitting all the way up just yet wasn’t possible, but she guessed it didn’t really matter; if Arnold hadn’t caught it, then the Snitch was long gone. Curse it.

16 Marissa Stephenson,Seeker You really didn't have to. 147 Marissa Stephenson,Seeker 0 5

Nic Sawyer, Keeper

October 06, 2011 12:14 PM

Not just yet - Did you see that Rachel? by Nic Sawyer, Keeper

Nic cheered louder than he had cheered for anything in his life when the Crotalus team scored on Kitty. He hadn't been able to see many details; it happened on the far end of the pitch with a lot of other players directly in between him and the action, but the reactions from the crowds, the rest of the team, and the Coach's announcement of the change in score made it more than obvious that Nic was not the only Keeper to have let in a goal.

Unfortunately, the loss seemed to have set a fire under the Aladrens and they made a beeline back toward Nic's end of the field. Having learned from his last mistake, Nic was careful to keep his eye more on the ball than the people carrying it, so he knew that Arthur had it this time as the red ball approached scoring distance.

The kid tried to pretend to pass, but this time Nic saw that it stayed with the Carey Chaser. Unfooled, Nic moved as he needed to get in between the throw and the left hoop (his left, Carey's right). It was a tough one, that being the hoop he was farthest from, but he had arms that were approximately ten miles long now, and this time when he threw himself at the ball and his fingertips caught it, he was able to push it enough out of the way that it didn't go through the hoop.

It was a near thing, retaining his seat on his broom, and the ball fell further than it normally would have, but he eventually controlled his fall and grabbed hold of the red ball. Climbing back up in front of the goals before tossing it back into play (the last thing he wanted was for it to get intercepted and give Aladren a chance at open goals), he found an open Crotalus Chaser and threw the ball in their direction.

The Quaffle was still far too close to dare looking into the stands to check if Rachel had seen him actually succeed for once, but she was a Crotalus; she'd hear about it even if she didn't see it. He allowed himself a small self-satisfied smile. It might not have been the prettiest save in the history of Sonora Quidditch, but he'd saved.

1 Nic Sawyer, Keeper Not just yet - Did you see that Rachel? 165 Nic Sawyer, Keeper 0 5

Sam Bauer, Chaser

October 06, 2011 5:27 PM

My guess is she did. by Sam Bauer, Chaser

The triumph of Crotalus’ goal was great, but it was also short-lived. Sam’s heart had gotten that light, tingly feeling of success when Renée got the ball past Small Aladren, but it started to sink again almost immediately, and kept on going down through the point where he realized Aladren was definitely going to attempt another goal, at which point it sank again, and sank dramatically.

There was still some hope. Some slight hope of Aladren trying a last-minute pass, giving Crotalus something to work with. Sam’s unusually-active circulatory organ rose to some point just above his ankles when it looked like the injured Carey Chaser was going to pass, only to quickly sink, as though it were a heavy object in water, back to the soles of his feet and settle sadly there when the Carey didn’t. It had seemed like such a good chance, too, but there it had gone. Not happening today. That ball was going toward the Crotalus goals, and was It was –

Huh. Nic had just saved. All hope was not lost. Sam found himself grinning and laughing under his breath, and his heart hit his ankles again even as he thought of himself as stupid for not seeing that having a wounded Chaser with, at least last year, a habit of trying to out-crazy his brother in public was going to work against the Hawks. Aladren was not in the lead. In a way, since their Keeper had come through once when Aladren’s had yet to prove herself, they could even be said to be ahead. This was how he liked it.

Now, if they could just get it back to the other end of the Pitch, where it belonged, and put it through one of the hoops to just really show Aladren who was the superior team and particularly Chasing team, that would be great. Marissa catching the Snitch before Arnold did something crazy and came out with the game in his hand despite the superiority of the Crotalus Chasers would be better, but if the Seekers were going to keep shadowing each other and getting bounced between the Beaters like popcorn in a bag, then he would settle for kind of rubbing Aladren’s nose in it. Winning was a matter of luck, not skill, most of the time, and even if they technically lost – which really, they shouldn’t, since Marissa was epic amounts of more experienced than Arnold, but the second year seemed to have a certain habit of getting lucky; Sam suspected a Carey plot - it would be great to walk away with the satisfaction of knowing they were the truly better team.

When the ball came back out, he found himself with it again. Okay, not that great, but not bad, either. He flew as fast as his broom would go, but only stayed at top speed for a moment before making a quick, short pass, hoping his speed-up would confuse or fool the Aladrens for just a moment.

16 Sam Bauer, Chaser My guess is she did. 163 Sam Bauer, Chaser 0 5

Charlie, Chaser, Captain

October 07, 2011 10:08 AM

Keep it up, Nic! by Charlie, Chaser, Captain

The Quaffle went in! It went in, and Charlie took a well-earned moment to be elated before reality smacked her back in the face... luckily not literally, as there wasn’t currently a Bludger in her path, but it still hurt on some physical level – somewhere in her gut, maybe – to see the ball back in Aladren’s hands. It didn’t matter’ Crotalus had scored the equalizing goal, and unless they gave up entirely, there was still a very good chance they could beat Aladren and win this game. She believed it entirely. It was perhaps because her belief in Crotalus winning was so strong that she was so completely dumbfounded that Aladren somehow managed to carry the Quaffle, without interception or injury (though actually Arthur didn’t seem to be flying quite right, and Charlie hadn’t stopped to see whether or not Paul’s Bludger towards Daniel had successful hit its target, so perhaps there had been some blood spilt – ought she be concerned that she distinctly lacked sympathy when out on the field?) , back up to their side of the pitch. It wouldn’t have been surprising at all if the same thing had happened to her own team, in Charlie’s most humble opinion; for Crotalus to successfully carry the Quaffle from one side of the pitch to another while the opposition looked on helplessly was quite natural, in fact. When the world was reversed, and she noted that Aladren were going to try to score when only Sam was anywhere near the goals to intercept before it reached Nic, she felt almost as if she must have somehow spaced out to allow this monstrous phenomenon to occur.

It was no longer a matter of stealing the ball back and scoring another ten points for their own team; Crotalus now had to somehow stop Aladren from doing the same. Charlie hadn’t foreseen this; perhaps that made her a bad captain? She had, on occasion, warned her players not to underestimate the other teams. Is that perhaps what she’d just done, and in doing so put their current tied position in jeopardy? She grit her teeth and put on an extra burst of speed, feeling the stray wisps of her hair that inevitably came lose during a game, no matter how tight her braid, whip her cheeks and ears as she lay in hot pursuit of that Quaffle, determined that if it should go through the hoops again (though, Merlin, please don’t let that happen), it would be the very last time she ever saw another team score at Sonora.

She couldn’t get there in time; that much became quickly apparent. Sam wasn’t ideally placed to steal directly from the Chaser in possession, which meant it was up to Nic. He’d fumbled one save already this game, so perhaps it would drive him to try a bit harder and make a successful save this time? Or maybe the initial failure would be enough to throw him off his precarious game. At least they still had a Keeper this game, as Edmond hadn’t yet taken it upon him to unseat all her players. In fact, in terms of injury, Charlie thought her team were doing exceptionally well... of course, she hadn’t given much thought to Marissa’s wellbeing in a while. Could Edmond be focussing all his efforts this time round on unseating Marissa? Charlie sincerely hoped not; even if they out-scored Aladren a hundred points to ten with goals scored, it would mean nothing if the opposition then caught the Snitch. Nothing, except Crotalus being secure in the knowledge that their Chasing team was, in fact, still the best in the school, a claim they definitely wouldn’t be able to make if the Quaffle, which had just left mini-Carey’s hands, sailed through a hoop, and it was bound to do any second now.

Then it came: that mellifluous moment when the Keeper’s fingertips brushed the Quaffle off course, and prevented Aladren from making that equalizing score. Nic had redeemed himself entirely (if only until next time he failed to make a save). It was rare times like this when Charlie knew she’d been right to continue to put him in that position; he had, after all, been steadily improving, but one would have had to know him several years, and to have seen his initial lack of talent to believe this possible. Charlotte whooped! Not only had Nic saved, but he’d successfully delivered the Quaffle back into Crotalus possession. There wasn’t a moment to lose – that ball had to make its way down the other end of the pitch as swiftly as they could accomplish. As soon as she’d seen Sam successfully receive the pass, Charlie turned tail and flew with him back down towards their preferred playing area. He passed quicker that she had expected, but she didn’t mind at all. It was executed before the Aladrens were likely to have had much of idea of what was going on, and so they didn’t try to interfere. Tucking the leather ball safely under her arm, Charlie began what felt like it ought to be a victory flight, the thrills of Nic’s save still reverberating in the stands, mimicking the adrenaline coursing through Charlie’s veins.

Although her priority was to take the ball back over the halfway line, Charlie knew that simply flying quickly wouldn’t cut it. She had a decent enough broom, but it wasn’t as quick as the new models, broomsticks like the ones every player in Aladren was currently riding. Renée could move quickly for short periods, but Daniel’s brooms could outstrip even her over long distance, and Sam just wouldn’t stand a chance. Luckily, Crotalus had skill where Aladren had money. Their Captain couldn’t fly fastest, so instead she would fly erratically. They’d had enough practise at that, with the notoriously most unpredictable player as a key member of their team. Three years they’d been playing together incredibly successfully, and Charlie liked to think they could out-fly Aladren. It was time to put that theory to the test.

Swerving, swooping, diving and almost-rolling a couple of times, Charlie flew as if negotiating a laser maze in the sky. The opposing team – and perhaps the spectators, too, - might think she’d lost her mind. She didn’t care; it took skill to fly like this, and, God help her, if she didn’t have that after playing for seven years on the Crotalus team, then there was no hope for her. She couldn’t keep it up forever, though. As soon as she felt she’d cleared sufficient ground, she waited just a short moment longer until she had a good pass lined up. She flew a little higher above her teammate, making the pass from above, appreciating the acceleration of its descent. If they could pull this off it would truly make her year.

0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain Keep it up, Nic! 0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain 0 5

Captain Nash, Chaser

October 07, 2011 12:39 PM

Hang on just a minute there by Captain Nash, Chaser

Under any other circumstances, Daniel would have waited to see if Arthur completed the pass, then either chased after the interceptor if it was unsuccessful or placed himself for an intercept of the Keeper's pass if it was. Unfortunately, the current circumstances did not make that possible. One of the Crotalus Beaters (Daniel wasn't entirely sure of the kid's name, but it was the newer one) had hit a bludger at him.

It didn't have the power behind it that one of, say, Edmond's would have had, but Daniel had no intention of waiting around to find out how it did rank. Instead he dove. The bludger followed. Daniel turned back away from Nic's goals and started to climb. The bludger followed. Daniel looked around trying to find Preston but the blasted kid wasn't in view. He dove again trying again to shake his tail on his own. The bludger followed.

He heard the cheers from the Crotalus stands and the groans from the Aladren ones that told him Arthur or Russell had tried to score but failed. He rose again, keeping ahead of the bludger solely because he had one of the very fastest brooms on the market. Deciding abruptly that he would use the bludger to Aladren's advantage, Daniel looked up in time to see Sam pass the Quaffle to Charlie. Daniel flew under her and when she made a pass, he put on an extra burst of speed, coming up from below as the Quaffle came down from below. The bludger followed.

"Trade you!" he yelled to the Crotalus chaser he'd just stolen the Quaffle from. He flew close enough past them as he turned around that he hoped the bludger would change targets.

Not entirely convinced that he had been successful in doing so, he didn't have the Quaffle quite ten seconds before he found an opening to pass it onto a blue robed Chasers who definitely wasn't being tailed by a bludger. Only then did he look back to see if the bludger had followed yet again.

0 Captain Nash, Chaser Hang on just a minute there 0 Captain Nash, Chaser 0 5

Charlie, Chaser, Captain

October 07, 2011 3:06 PM

You don't get it, do you? by Charlie, Chaser, Captain

This was possibly the closest she’d ever come to hating Daniel, and that included in first year when he hadn’t wanted to see her legs, in fourth year when he’d beaten her potions score, and just last year when he very politely turned down her offer of... well, her. The Quaffle had only very recently made its way into Crotalus possession, and he came in on his stupidly fast broom and took it back again! As if that wasn’t bad enough, he’d given her a Bludger, too, which she didn’t see quite in time to avoid entirely, only managing to keep it from unseating her by having it collide swiftly and sharply with her knee. Now she didn’t have the Quaffle, and her knee hurt – the sort of numb pain like when you accidentally kicked a desk, or walked into a doorframe when watching the Aladren seventh years go past – and both instances made her mad. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the Bludger didn’t get the message that its work here was done, and made as if to come back for more. Turning tail once again, Charlie re-instigated her crazy flying from moments earlier, half trying to shake the Bludger off, and half-hoping it would stay on her tail so she could give it back to Daniel. It would be sure to ruffle his feathers, and that would please her. Almost as much as his ruffled hair, which was always beautifully windswept during Quidditch games and that... that really wasn’t the point.

Five seconds later, Charlie was working on curving her way in front of Aladren’s Captain, either just to cut him off, or maybe to despatch a Bludger his direction, or, the magic third option: to steal the Quaffle he’d just thrown mid-pass, and whip on round to the other side of the pitch, uninterested in hanging around any longer. She was eager to return her mission of getting the Quaffle down the right end of the pitch, and didn’t hang around to see what had happened to the Bludger, or to Daniel. Her eyes were searching the air for Sam or Renée, preferably in a good position to receive a pass. She wouldn’t try passing from above again – she was sure that manoeuvre generally worked, but for some reason Daniel had gotten in the way, and it had made her more cautious.

This time, when she saw a good opening, Charlie flew as close to her teammate as was possible before making what had to be the shortest pass of her Quidditch career to date. No mistakes this time. Maybe they could get another goal in before Marissa caught the Snitch, beating Aladren 170 points to ten. As she thought of Marissa, Charlie looked up just a second to catch sight of her Seeker, only long enough to see that she was still on her broom and in the air, and that had to be good news. All they needed now were a few more successful passes, a goal scored, and the Assistant Captain to catch the Snitch. Charlie held her breath.

0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain You don't get it, do you? 0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain 0 5

Arnold Carey, Seeker

October 07, 2011 5:48 PM

Sure he did by Arnold Carey, Seeker

Arnold, looking in another direction at that particular moment and a little distracted by his arm, did not see the Snitch, nor did he see Marissa starting to dive for it, but he did hear the crack of a bat on a Bludger, and turned in time to see his opponent get hit. He couldn’t be sure, but he had hit or been hit by enough things in his life to think that she had gotten hit harder than he did, too.

A second later, it dawned on him that she was lower in the air than he was. Had she just been trying to get out of the line of fire – in which case she’d failed pretty badly – or had she been going for the Snitch? He looked quickly, in case she went on for it despite her side, but he didn’t see the sparkle anywhere, unfortunately. He was sure he could outrun her now, without difficulty, and while a close run was more fun, them both being hurt now meant that it wasn’t about having fun, it was about getting out of the air and getting to the medic’s tent so they could get patched up. She had never succeeded in teaching him to just avoid danger, but Mother had drummed enough into his head over the years for him to know that he shouldn't stay hurt longer than he could help. Plus, she was a girl - Muggleborn, and a Quidditch player, but his head registered that she was a girl first. That made it particularly important that she see the medic, and would have even if he had been the one who needed to worry about ribs or kidneys.

For now, it seemed like a good idea to get out of the line of fire himself. There were too many Beaters and Bludgers here. Speeding up, he started to fly away from the area, only to look over and see the Snitch in the direction he was trying to get away from.

Well. This was perfect.

Still, he didn’t really have a choice. He had to get the Snitch, and if he left it and tried to find it later, then Marissa might have recovered and gotten there before him. He couldn’t lose, not when she was on a worse broom than him and was hurt worse than him and he had never lost a game when she had to be used to it by now. He couldn’t do that. He was going to have to go back that way, and forget the consequences other than the one where he was winning.

The Snitch darted up, and Arnold followed it, flying fast in the hopes of both catching up to it and avoiding any Bludgers Edmond couldn’t take off his tail. If he got knocked off his broom catching the Snitch, it would establish a tradition that he thought would probably not be for the best.

0 Arnold Carey, Seeker Sure he did 181 Arnold Carey, Seeker 0 5

Renée Errant {Chaser}

October 07, 2011 7:11 PM

* Becomes One With the Madness* by Renée Errant {Chaser}

For a moment there was real surprise and fear as the miniscule Aladren Keeper came speeding toward the Quaffle, her arms outstretched, and the intent of her body was insultingly clear – she meant to make the save. She meant to catch the Quaffle. A pout began to form on Renée’s lips, curving the edges of her smile as the shot passed in slow motion. Her dark brown eyes were omnioculars, and she could zoom in, pause, magnify the scene, the smallest details, rewind, playback, afraid to watch what was currently happening in reality. Her eyes saw the gloved hands of the Keeper, formed around the Quaffle. She dreaded watching more. A cheer rose from the stands, Renée blinked, at first assuming that it was for Aladren’s save, and then as she watched the little Keeper dive for the ball, that pout threatening to form diminished, overshadowed by the brilliance of her beam and laughter. ‘Goal! Goal! Goal!’ Though it only meant that Crotalus and Aladren were currently tied, it still felt great, and this score felt better and packed more meaning than how bad the loss had felt previously. Renée pumped her fist in the air, and did a quick lap around the left goal post in temporary victory, not getting in the way of the Keeper’s retrieval. She felt extremely buzzed, every inch of her body individually alive, individually uniting under their own free will out of sympathetic passion and drive. Every inch of her aching for the game to continue on. To shoot again. And again. And again! Every inch of her aching to score.

The Keeper threw, and Renée flattened on her Febre and shot off, flying parallel to the arched path but could not intercept the ball. She continued to fly straight, weaving in and out through cracks in the air that the other players did not occupy, trying to ready herself for either another pass her way, or to track one of the Aladren players making a break for Crotalus goals again. She lowered herself down a little in the air beneath most of the players and waited for just a little while for the Quaffle to commit to either Crotalus Goals or Aladren once more. An Aladren – Layne – broke through and Renée tracked him, still staying low. Another Aladren chaser was close by and she veered closer to fit in a space between them, covering one chaser while trusting that Sam or Charlie would cover the other. Nearing the central line, Renée watched Layne’s arm begin to move and shot up, not yet sure where he was passing to until the Quaffle had left his hold and he couldn’t do anything about it. It didn’t go her way though, and neither Charlie nor Sam intercepted. That was okay, though. There was still time. A smile stayed spread out and relaxed on her face, her dark eyes bright. Her mouth tasted like blood plums; teeth sinking so easily through, the rush of sweet flavor, juice dripping down her chin. She felt feral – blood dripping down her chin. Blue blood. Aladren blood.

She began to imagine herself in the jungle, her already long hair lengthening, her body stretching and growing taller, limber, swinging on the vines, body curving quickly around the large trunks of trees as she made her way through, the deadliest being in the jungle with no higher predator to fear. She didn’t need a broom. She could fly on her own. The air was hers, she’d inherited it rightfully. She was no longer in the jungle, she was back in the air, she was a bird, she was a hawk, she was a phoenix, she was fire ripping through the earth, boundless and consuming, she was lighting stripping across the sky, and it was raining again, it was pouring. The drops weren’t clear and they weren’t cold. They were blue and they flapped against her skin, stripping past her until she was blinking confused, slinking back into reality.

‘The game!’ Right. Right. The game. It was hard to distinguish from fantasy and reality. She was flying in both, the same colors in both. ‘I am… I am not a bird. I fly but have no wings. These are robes not blood. Those are robes not rain.’ She felt as if she was bobbing in and out of the sea, skimming the surface, skidding to a sudden halt against the air particles as an Aladren suddenly took a shot at Crotalus goals. She didn’t want to face the disappointment of so quickly going back to being behind in points. A parallel world opened up and she dipped into it, beginning to dive down. Stray tendrils got into her eyes, she lifted her face a little, hand raised to brush the hair away and she caught sight of the goal posts, the metal rings, Nic’s tall and skinny figure reaching for red and missing it… missing... miss…

“YEAH, NIC!” She hadn’t thought much of the older boy since she’d found out he hadn’t an ounce of giant blood in him. Those thoughts took more of a negative downturn when he proved to be the absolute worst Keeper in the entire school and probably in the entire history of Quidditch (though, truth be told, it was probably because of Nic that the Crotalus chasers were so good… they had the strongest motivation to keep the Quaffle in their possession) but at that moment, right then, seeing the Quaffle dropping down, yes, because Nic still couldn’t catch, but dropping along side the goal not through it caused those old first year feelings of awe to come blossoming up into the surface. He dove to retrieve it before any Aladrens could, and she rose in the air, away from the jungle and sea and blue rain. ‘I am not a bird, I am Renée. I fly, but do not have wings. I sit on wood, I lean across, I shoot off, I catch, I pass, I score.’ From Nic to Sam to Charlie and soon to her.

‘This is the reality, right?’ They were making their way back to Aladren goals, but Charlie’s flying swept Renée up in a frenzy, a laugh bubbling in her chest, not yet free. She streaked straight, keeping beneath her Captain and when Charlie dived she jumped up, dropping low again whenever her captain rose. So much wind, so much sunshine and warmth and frost and rain. Vines trickling down and she reached out, swinging from one to the other, caught in Charlie’s shadow that was diving toward her now. Renée rolled over, dark curls hanging, clenching the Febre tightly between her thighs, her hands slightly shaky and rising to catch the –

A storm thundered, rain drenching her skin, and Daniel Nash had stolen her ball. ‘Bludger!’ Renée veered off sharply, and there was two seconds of confusion before Charlie had it again. Renée swallowed slightly, confused and a little panicked. The trees were larger, closer together, the leaves drooping and darker, little sunlight breaking through. She flew in the darkness, unsure, uncertain – weren’t they Crotalus? Weren’t they the Chasers? Wasn’t the Quaffle theirs? ‘The Quaffle is mine. The Quaffle is mine. The Quaffle is mine!’ Charlie was flying, Charlie was passing and suddenly, yes, the Quaffle was hers. She tucked it in the crook of her arm, glimpsed reality and shot towards it.

Sunshine. That’s all there was. Sunshine glinting on metal hoops. Confused panic gave way to pure shots of adrenaline. She drank it up, soaked in it. It mingled with the still fresh taste of blood plums. A bludger shot toward her. She rose higher and shifted the weight of her hips, pulling up hard, feeling the slight graze of the aggressive ball as it came into quick contact with the wood. The vibration traveled through her and seemed to make her go faster, the energy rippling off in wave after wave after wave that carried her, swept through her and pushed and pulled. Another Crotalus chaser, Renée unfurled the Quaffle from her safe hold, lifted, pulled back, and feinted, her whole body following through until she was twisting and turning sharply, spying her other teammate. The Aladrens needed to be shaken off. They’d gotten too good at interceptions. She didn’t admit this to herself, but let her body be taken over by the instincts, let her the instincts decide what was right.

She passed and only then was there a slight tingle of indignation, truly coming back into herself. Daniel having shouted something, Charlie doing that lame short pass. Exactly what was her captain trying to say?! Did she not trust Renée to catch the damn ball? She had to practically hand it over? ‘How dare she? How could she think that I – ’ Every successful Aladren interception and failed Crotalus exchange spilled inside her mind. Renée’s fingers tightened on the handle of her broom, continuing to fly. ‘One more goal. Let’s pull ahead. Let’s show them. We were only warming up.’ She didn’t want Charlie to have any future reason to think her inept. Not on the championship, not during the last game. The Quaffle belonged to Crotalus. The snitch (Insignificant Ball # 1) had yet to be caught, and no Bludgers (Insignificant Balls #’s 2 and 3) had yet to unseat a Chaser. There could only be so much time left though. In however much she had (a day, hours, minutes, seconds…) she was focusing on that one reality. ‘I am a bird. The Quaffle is my prey. Get it. Take it. It belongs to me.’

0 Renée Errant {Chaser} * Becomes One With the Madness* 0 Renée Errant {Chaser} 0 5

Preston S., Beater

October 07, 2011 7:59 PM

AND...I make an appearence! by Preston S., Beater

Preston wasn’t the biggest or strongest player in the Aladren team; those two titles easily went to Edmond Carey. His fellow Beater was huge and fearsome (also, it was awesome to have someone like Edmond on your side). He could carry those titles. Preston was small, he was still a twelve-year old, and had a lot of time to grow up. He hoped he would start growing soon enough. It was not a very good thing to be a small-scrawny twelve-year old when you played the Beater position. No it wasn’t. However, what he was lacking in height and strength, he made up with enthusiasm. He briefly wondered if Miss Raines was among the spectators. The redhead had the need to impress her and be noticed. It was a weird thing, something he didn’t understand, but he really did like Sara, and despite his need to continue probing her, he wanted her to like him. He had asked his mother – always his mother for things like this – about it, and she had told him that it was normal human behavior. Yes, she had actually used the word human, as if Preston was something not human. She could sometimes be super confusing.

The Quidditch game was going like every Quidditch game played against Crotalus. There was something about Aladren and Crotalus that just made Quidditch deadlier. Preston didn’t really understand it, but the games were brutal. It seemed everyone was in for the kill. Edmond was stalking the Crotalus Seeker, which left Preston with the task of taking care of the other team members. That was a very big task, especially since Preston wasn’t used to be a player. He was better than last year, but he still had a long way to go to become like Edmond.

His green-eyes were scanning the pitch for a Bludger to send to the Crotalus team. Preston was proud to be part of the Aladren team, they were a pretty good team, but he was afraid that that might change when Captain Nash graduated. That awful day was nearer. Preston blinked when he saw a Bludger pass inches besides his left ear. He had been distracted thinking about the future of the Aladren team. Edmond was more than capable of continuing the winning streak, because he was sure they were going to win this game. Crotalus had nothing on Aladren. Even when they were tied right now, Preston was sure Arnold was going to catch the snitch, that kid was talented.

The second-year Beater flew in search of the Bludger that had almost knocked him down. He found it and he swung his bat against it. He heard the crack that came from the bat hitting the ball and smiled. That noise made his blood pump. The Bludger in question went towards the Crotalus Chaser that was trying to reach the Quaffle. He hoped it hit her.

0 Preston S., Beater AND...I make an appearence! 0 Preston S., Beater 0 5

Renée Errant {Chaser}

October 07, 2011 10:37 PM

Can't say I missed you. by Renée Errant {Chaser}

She waited for either Sam or Charlie to catch her pass, gripping her broom tightly, blood flow freezing up, temperature boiling in the brief tension of whether or not her pass would succeed, her hope lifted or shattered. One hand loosened its grip, the fist flattening to an open palm rubbing against the wood, curling again so that her fingers dug into the wood. ‘Catch it… catch it…’ A little whistle in the air, a humming noise, a disturbance. Renée turned, Aladren’s little beater boy just finishing his swing, the sounding CRACK reverberating through the air causing ripples. She blinked, and waited for it to come toward her. A direct hit, not terrible, and if she didn’t know how to fly only hover in place no doubt she’d be struck. Daniel Nash’s maneuvering was a move she’d seen before however, and one she’d always wanted to try out. She waited for the bludger now, quickly growing aware of the sweat on her brow, tracking down her face, her heart suffering from the aftershock of exhilaration.

‘Alright, go!’ A slightly strangled yelp, slightly nervous laugh escaped her as she bent over and shot toward the bludger, curving sharply around the ball, attracting it like a loose seriously-hell-bent-on-maiming-her magnet. Targeting one of the Aladren chasers, she put on a burst of speed to try and switch the focus from her to them. It sounded simple in theory, looked fairly simple in the times she saw it occur in games, and was something that was rather difficult to practice when it was with her own teammates. ‘Get closer… closer… closer…’ That familiar whistle in her ear and Renée winced. ‘Closer… closer… ah hell.’ She veered away from the players, the instinct to get away away away more important than trying to pawn off her bludger and accompanying potential pain. She dipped low, and then up again, eventually throwing the bludger off. It continued barreling down somewhere below, and Renée watched it go regretfully. Beaters regularly sought those evil little things, how could they stand it? She looked up, trying to figure out quickly where the Quaffle was, and then sped back towards it, following the action.

She’d be happy with just one more goal, just enough for Crotalus to pull ahead, break the tie, and then Marissa could catch the snitch, win the game, win the championship. It’d be nice to beat Aladren, and it’d be nice to just win. Her hands gripped the handle of the broom firmly, but not too tight, not as tense. One more shot, one more goal, they needed to fly fast and get there. Marissa was diving for something somewhere on the pitch. She waited impatiently to get a hold of the Quaffle once more, or at least watch Sam or Charlie throw it through one of Aladren’s hoops.

0 Renée Errant {Chaser} Can't say I missed you. 0 Renée Errant {Chaser} 0 5

Edmond Carey, Beater

October 07, 2011 10:47 PM

I felt it was the best option by Edmond Carey, Beater

So Marissa was hit. Edmond nodded to himself, though he didn’t derive any satisfaction from his accomplishment. It was just what he had to do, and it was not real. It was just a game.

That was the important part. It was a game, and she wasn’t really hurt, and it wasn’t real. In a few minutes, the game would end and tomorrow Marissa would be perfectly fine and in their Potions class, and if perhaps they weren’t on quite such amicable terms as usual for a day or two, it was nothing permanent. In a week or two, at most, the game would have faded enough out of everyone’s minds that they wouldn’t even really think about it. They would all go into seventh year, and next year they’d most likely do this again and that would be the end of it. He and Marissa would most likely never play this game again. He would never do anything like this again.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arnold start to move fast. He turned quickly in the air and saw that his cousin was going for the Snitch. It was time to leave his scruples behind again for a moment, and then let guilt be swallowed up in the celebration after they won. Moving fast, putting aside for the moment the thought of going into the main part of the game for something, he found a Bludger and hit it toward Marissa again, to prevent her from following along in Arnold’s run, or at least slowing her down.

It was almost over. He felt a wave of unexpected relief. This game hadn’t taken him badly, he had done okay, but he would be glad to see it over. Less glad if they lost, but still, even then, he didn’t think he would be completely displeased. That was not a very captainly attitude, though, so he supposed he was going to have to work on changing that a little before next year. It was still a surprise to him when he thought about it and realized that he was going to not only be captain this time next year, but also in just a few months. It seemed like it should be longer than that still, somehow.

0 Edmond Carey, Beater I felt it was the best option 0 Edmond Carey, Beater 0 5

Arthur Carey, Chaser

October 07, 2011 11:10 PM

I'm glad to see you, Preston by Arthur Carey, Chaser

Even knowing that he was not quite all together today, Arthur was surprised to see the Quaffle fail to go through the ring. He blinked, just to make sure his eyes weren’t fooling him from some moment of pain or stress or a combination of the two or something, but no, the ball was still definitely in Mr. Sawyer’s hands and heading back toward Arthur’s good friend Mr. Bauer, who was catching it and heading back toward the Aladren end.

Well, that was no fun. He was going to have to do something about that.

Daniel did that first, though. Miss Abbott got it back from him, then it went to Arthur’s other good friend Miss Errant. He made a try at an interception, but the pass between Miss Abbott and her youngest Chaser was too close; even on the best day, he would have been more likely than not to have collided with one or both, and while that would have solved the problem in its own way, the ball might have gone back to Crotalus once they were all sorted out, and besides, he didn’t know how long the game might go on, and they needed to save the alternate for if Arnold got too hurt to carry on.

So he waited, and soon enough, Miss Errant passed, and he went for it again…only to hear a bat against a Bludger. Preston was trying to take Miss Errant out. A good idea, she was a problem, but it made intercepting a little riskier right now.

There wasn’t much time to think. He decided to make the interception, and exhaled in relief for the first time in a bit longer than was comfortable when he came out unscathed, at least in part because of Miss Errant’s attempt at copying Daniel’s erratic flight plan. He wheeled around as quickly as possible and began moving back toward the Crotalus end of the Pitch, flying fast to outstrip the Crotali and the Bludgers before taking advantage of a close opening to pass once more.

0 Arthur Carey, Chaser I'm glad to see you, Preston 0 Arthur Carey, Chaser 0 5

Paul Bennett, Beater

October 07, 2011 11:32 PM

Me, too - thanks for the Bludger! by Paul Bennett, Beater

He didn’t succeed in hitting Daniel Nash, but he did make the Aladren captain run a pretty race to not be hit, so Paul was happy enough with that. He was less happy with how Daniel then tried to set the Bludger on Charlie. That wasn’t really what he’d been aiming for, pun not intended but, he thought, relevant anyway. He had been aiming for further inconveniencing the Aladren team.

Maybe he had inconvenienced them a little, because they didn’t keep the ball very long once Daniel – it was a little strange, thinking of the Head Boy by his first name when he was both older than and, at Sonora, socially superior to him, but “Mr. Nash” sounded too formal, he was not some colleague of Father’s – and Crotalus had a good run….until the smaller of the two redheaded Aladren Beaters, the one who wasn’t a Carey, provided evidence that he shouldn’t be underestimated just for being a second year Stratford.

Move! he thought frantically as Renée just kind of…sat there. This was the girl Eliza worried about as a real threat to her? His sister could be too cheerful sometimes, and went crazy about clothes and jewelry, but she had enough sense to not just sit and look at something meant to hurt her like it was shiny. She should have been able to make this girl look daft in front of the whole school in about five seconds, so even Pierce would be embarrassed to associate with her. What kind of person just sat looking at a Bludger?

“Move!” Paul yelled at her out loud, though he doubted she heard him from the distance that prevented him from doing anything more direct about the Bludger approaching her even as he did. If she did, she didn’t do it quite the way he meant for her to, going toward the Bludger, and then leading it on the same kind of chase Daniel had before at least getting out of the way of everyone else before apparently deciding she wasn’t up to it and just flying away and shaking it.

Paul, feeling slightly wrung out from the stress of trying to get there before she got her head knocked off and made his sister the happiest person this side of the Council divide and then got her investigated because she couldn’t hide how happy she was and the authorities figured she must have tampered with a Bludger to get her rival killed, shook his head and went to hit it toward a blue robe. Why were people insane? What possible purpose did it serve? He did not understand, and he really hoped that being in this House and part of this sport did not make it rub off on him. The day he started thinking that any of it was normal was, he swore, the day he was out of it, because he wanted his handful of brains functional and still residing inside of his skull.

0 Paul Bennett, Beater Me, too - thanks for the Bludger! 201 Paul Bennett, Beater 0 5

Arnold Carey, Seeker

October 09, 2011 9:51 AM

That works, too by Arnold Carey, Seeker

The Snitch was close, but then, as Snitches were prone to do, it went from only making small movements to darting away from him very quickly. Arnold didn’t yell in frustration, his attention was too fixed on his goal for that, but his mouth did twist as he pushed his broom still harder to catch up again. At least it gave him an excuse, when the Snitch went down, to dart out of his original line of flight just behind it, maybe making it harder for Topher or Paul to catch up with him. He was really hoping to finish this game without getting hurt again.

Maybe this time, it would feel right. He had caught the Snitch at the end of the championship game last year, and hadn’t really felt anything about it. None of the pride and satisfaction he had expected had been there, just a sense that something was missing beneath the aches and tired feeling. It had just been something; he’d tried for it, it had happened, and then it had been over. He’d been happy while the team celebrated, but after, it had seemed a little strange when people congratulated him on his accomplishment; he’d barely registered it. He hoped that this year would be different, that he wouldn’t be able to shrug it aside so easily.

And…there it was. Slowing down. His heart was speeding up, but the Snitch was being quiet for a moment, flittering around in a desultory manner, perfectly unaware that this was the Final, that a game wouldn’t be this important until this time next year, when hopefully he would be going for it again just as he had last year and the rest of this year. Right now, though, wasn’t the time for thinking about the future, it was for thinking about the moment.

The moment he caught the Snitch.

For a minute, as usual, he felt more surprised than anything that it had worked out for him again. Then he smiled a little and waved the Snitch around for a moment before heading to the ground, feeling a moment of triumph as he landed – that he hadn’t broken a leg, and was capable of walking around on his own.

He looked at the Snitch again and began to laugh a little. It was better than last year, anyway.

0 Arnold Carey, Seeker That works, too 181 Arnold Carey, Seeker 0 5

Coach Amelia Pierce

October 09, 2011 10:23 AM

Aladren wins! 160-10 (nm) by Coach Amelia Pierce

1 Coach Amelia Pierce Aladren wins! 160-10 (nm) 20 Coach Amelia Pierce 0 5

Charlie, Chaser, Captain

October 09, 2011 2:45 PM

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! by Charlie, Chaser, Captain

She saw the Quaffle land safely in Renée's hands, watched their youngest Chaser take off further down the picth with the ball, and Charlie felt for a brief second that things were still going their way. When she saw a Bludger heading for Renée, just after the ball had been intercepted by Aladren (Merlin alive, when exactly had they learned how to do that?), her optimism failed her slightly. She stayed as best she could on Little Aladren Chaser's tail, hoping to spy an opportunity to steal the ball back again. As it so happened, it seemed Aladren were playing it safe, too, as Arthur opted for yet another close pass.

Annoyingly, it was a good practise, because it meant Charlie couldn't intervene and steal the ball back. Unfortunately for this particular blue-clad Chaser, Charlie was going to combat his preventing her from getting the Quaffle with retalitaion; she meant to shadow him like a hawk, and since he was still a young student, she was sufficiently greater in size to pull this off, potentially even with an iota of intimidation. There was no way in hell this kid was going to touch the ball again.

As it turned out, there was no way anyone was going to touch the ball again, as the whistle blew to sognal the end of the game. Her stomach jolting, Charlie turned like a startled deer to see what had happened. She fully expected to see Marissa, flying high with her fist raised, a jubilant smile on her face. What she saw was the Aladren Seeker with his fist clenched, the Aladren supporters cheering in the crowd, and heard the whooping victory calls of the opposition around her on the pitch.

Her heart sank. this had been her last game. Her last game. They'd played so well - she'd played so well for seven years - and the outcome... this wasn't.... it didn't... whatever. "Congratulations," Charlie mumbled to the blue robes that passed her. Never mind, she tried telling herself. It was only Quidditch.

0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! 0 Charlie, Chaser, Captain 0 5

<font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font>

Quidditch Final: Aladren vs Crotalus by <font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font>

<font color=”blue”>Kitty McLevy – Keeper</font>

Lets ROCK! by <font color=”blue”>Kitty McLevy – Keeper</font>

<font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

I'm more interested in winning by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

<font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

We'll win because we rock by <font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

Don't count your chickens before they hatch. by <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

<font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

I think the shells are already cracking. by <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Marissa Stephenson,Seeker</font>

Seeking all the usual things. by <font color="red">Marissa Stephenson,Seeker</font>

<font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font>

Well, something is cracking by <font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font>

<font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font>

Aladren scores! 10-0 (nm) by <font color=silver>Coach Amelia Pierce</font>

<font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

Let's try this again.... by <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

<font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

Pocketful of Rain by <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

<font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

...Would soak through the pocket and make a mess? by <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

<font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

Sounds about right to me. by <font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Charlie, Chaser, Captain</font>

That's mine. by <font color="red">Charlie, Chaser, Captain</font>

<font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

Mine by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

<font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

Thinking about politics by <font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

<font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

Mine! by <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

<font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

<i>Mine.</i> by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

<font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

Now, children, let us settle this calmly. It's mine. by <font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Charlie, Chaser, Captain</font>

You wish by <font color="red">Charlie, Chaser, Captain</font>

<font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

Okay, can we safely assume it's ours now? by <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

<font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>

...Maybe? by <font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>

<font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font>

That's a dangerous thing to do by <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font>

<font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

<i>No.</i> by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Topher Calhoun, Beater</font>

You're...not really one to talk. by <font color="red">Topher Calhoun, Beater</font>

<font color="red">Charlie, Chaser, Captain</font>

Guess again. by <font color="red">Charlie, Chaser, Captain</font>

<font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

I'm guessing success! by <font color = red>Renée Errant {Chaser}</font>

<color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color>

….Pineapple! by <color="blue">Kitty - Keeper </color>

<font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font>

Are any of us? by <font color="blue">Arnold Carey, Seeker</font>

<font color=silver>Coach Pierce</font>

Crotalus scores! 10-10 (nm) by <font color=silver>Coach Pierce</font>

<font color=silver>Coach Pierce</font>

Recentering by <font color=silver>Coach Pierce</font>

<font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

Restarting the madness. by <font color="blue">Russell Layne, Chaser</font>

<font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

Madness was last year. This is just being high-strung. by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

<font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

We're just sanity challenged this year, not utterly crazy by <font color=blue>Captain Nash, Chaser</font>

<font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>

Good for you. Have a Bludger! by <font color="red">Paul Bennett, Beater</font>

<font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

You can keep it - we'd rather have ten more points. by <font color="blue">Arthur Carey, Chaser</font>

<font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

I'm not a Seeker, but I'll restart the section of the thread by <font color="blue">Edmond Carey, Beater</font>

<font color="red">Marissa Stephenson,Seeker</font>

You really didn't have to. by <font color="red">Marissa Stephenson,Seeker</font>

<font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font>

Not just yet - Did you see that Rachel? by <font color=red>Nic Sawyer, Keeper</font>

<font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>

My guess is she did. by <font color="red">Sam Bauer, Chaser</font>