Sam tapped the end of a pen against his now clipboard-mounted sign-up list as he read over it again, grimacing slightly as the count came up the same as it had been the time before. They had seven people, that was good, it could have been a lot worse, but he would have liked more backup. He hoped he could go grab some more people, or that some would come to them unannounced, or something, to be their alternates, and that Cepheus was secretly a genius in the rough or else the luckiest foreign kid ever to walk through the doors of Sonora Academy.
Crotalus had, he was firmly convinced, a good team. They always held their own. It had just, for a few years now, in his analysis been coming down to the team of Arnold and Edmond Carey – a team which had slipped up in front of Pecari last year, and which was broken up now anyway. Preston Stratford was still there, he was a good Beater, but so was Topher, so if Crotalus got a good Seeker, then they’d have, he thought, a very strong chance of winning this year. But that was the big ‘if,’ and the thing that was probably worrying him even more about this than not having a solid team of alternates, though really the two concerns were closely related. They needed the whole team on point, but they especially needed a good Seeker, and right now, they only had one option for that.
“Okay,” he said when everyone was gathered together. “I’m glad to see everybody back again.”
Now he had to make a speech. That, Sam very much suspected, wasn’t something he was a natural specialist in, but that was why he’d read a few very dull books of speeches during the summer and hashed it out with his half-brother, who was better than he was at this kind of thing, and he thought what he’d come up with something which would…do, anyway. “We’ve got a great team here,” he said, beginning on a positive note since this was at least partially an inspirational speech. “If you can…persuade any of your friends into being alternates for us, that’s great, we’ll be happy to take them on, but this is a great team. We can win this year. We’ve just got to work hard and train and not ever, under any circumstances whatsoever spy on the other teams….” It was probably a weak attempt at humor, but if they came to him with information about the other teams, he’d use it. Sam did not see this as particularly amoral behavior.
“Right now, if you’re here without a position, come tell me what you want to try for. Otherwise, let’s get started. Renée, you and Linus pass, fly for the goals, and I’ll try to intercept you; we’ll switch out every now and then about who’s doing what.” This was also why they really needed an alternate. It would make Chaser practice work better. “Nic, you’re back in the goal, stop anything I don’t. Cepheus, you’re going to chase the Snitch. Gareth, you protect Cepheus, and Topher, you try to stop him from getting to the Snitch…Preferably without actually knocking him off the broom today.” Some practices, unless the Coach was willing to help out, he guessed he’d have to sit out so the Beaters could knock people off their brooms without those people going splat on the ground. He saw benefits to being a Seeker-captain, which he was not. “I’ll call for you two to switch positions when we rotate interceptors with the Chasers.”
It wasn’t perfect, but then, what was? They’d do the best they could with what they had. He reviewed it all in his head to make sure he hadn’t left out something he meant to say, but he couldn’t think of anything. Maybe he had, but he couldn’t think of it if he had, so he’d add it then if he did. “Okay, let’s go.”
OOC: Welcome to Crotalus try-outs. Have fun, give me good, detailed, creative posts following all the rules, site and Quidditch, here – good practice for that game! I want to see at least one post from everyone, and good luck to all.
Subthreads:
Seeing the Glory. by Cepheus Princeton with Gareth Whitebriar, Topher Calhoun
Keeping Cool by Nic Sawyer with Linus Macaulay
Sneaking in by Paul Bennett
16Captain Sam BauerCrotalus Quidditch Try-Outs163Captain Sam Bauer15
Cepheus was glad for the Quidditch try-outs. To say he had a bit of a bounce in his step was probably a little much, but not absurd in the least. He knew he was a very capable Seeker for his age. He'd been bred as a Seeker for as long as he could remember, anyway. Father had had specific roles for him and his brothers concerning Quidditch. Cepheus was the Seeker, Rup was the Chaser, and Leo the Beater. Of course, it helped that Cepheus had a very thin, small, skinny frame. He was smaller than most of the boys in his year, but he used it to his advantage in Quidditch. He was light and fast; a Seeker in the making.
He grabbed his broom, a present from his father. His father had told him that perhaps he hadn't gotten the position because of his broom and had purchased him a new one for the new year. Cepheus was very glad that his father knew brooms well and was enthusiastic about Quidditch himself.
Cepheus felt confident when he stepped onto the pitch and joined his housemates. He stood next to his roommate and looked around at the other familiar faces. He had confidence in this lot, mostly because he'd be the Seeker. They'd be a good, strong team, he could tell. He smirked to himself before paying attention to Sam, their new captain.
Speech, speech, speech. Finally Sam got to the things they'd be doing, and he glanced at Gareth and Topher, two blokes he was familiar with. He remembered wanting to be a Beater last year. How silly of him. Seeking was definitely his calling.
He turned to Gareth and smirked. "Don't let Topher knock me down now, eh?" He clapped his roommate's shoulder and mounted his broom. The snitch was released and Cepheus immediately rose into the air, his blue eyes searching relentlessly. Once, as a child, he had thrown a tantrum after spending hours searching for the snitch and never finding it. His father had told him exactly how sharply one had to look and how important it was to concentrate. That's what Cepheus did now, not focusing on one spot after another, but allowing himself to relax and let his eyes wander aimlessly, focusing on any glint of gold.
Before he knew it, he saw it and his broom sped off in that direction. This new broom was much quicker than his last and it still took some getting used to. Cepheus adapted quickly, however, and slowed his broom down a bit in order to keep his eyes on the snitch and not to worry about crashing into the stands. He kept one eye out for bludgers, hoping that Gareth was doing his job well so Ceph wouldn't have to worry. A little smirk came to the second year's face. He was feeling very confident, almost arrogant, right at that moment as the speed caused his short hair to come out of place. His eyes were drying, but not moving from the glint of gold that was the same colour as his hair.
40Cepheus PrincetonSeeing the Glory.216Cepheus Princeton05
Nic came down to the Pitch with Sam. It wasn't so much that he wanted to be there early or that he thought the new Captain might need help or anything, but they shared a room, and he'd been ready to go when Sam was and it just seemed pointless to wait another couple of minutes in the room doing nothing - with Sam knowing he was doing nothing and ready now - rather than head out together.
Just so he wouldn't be the first non-Captain player out to the Pitch, he peeled off where the route from Crotalus split depending on if you wanted to go to the Cascade Hall or outside. "I'll get us water," he offered. Practices, especially practices this early in the year with the Arizona sun still feeling like high summer pounding down and beating into you, were draining and having plenty of liquids would help keep everyone in top form.
So he detoured to the kitchens, wrangled a big cooler full of cold water and encased in cooling charms out of the elves, plus enough cups for everyone on the team and a few extras in case they got walk-ins, headed out to the pitch, the cooler bobbing behind him on levitation charms.
He set that down next to the reserves bench, which would sit empty this year if they didn't get anyone else. "Water," he announced shortly, proving again why Sam was Captain and he was not. Fortunately, the acquisition of the water had taken long enough that Nic didn't have to wait long before Sam started his own, much longer, speech.
When asked to try to recruit additional players, Nic considered his options but wasn't sure there was anyone he could ask. At best, he could get Eliza to poke at her brother, but Paul Bennett was really the only person he was even distantly connected to who might even consider it. He certainly couldn't imagine Eliza herself or Rachel Bauer playing Quidditch.
Crotalus had gone without reserves before though. That was how Nic got onto the team in the first place. They had needed a keeper at short notice for the Final game a few years ago and he'd been standing in the wrong place. It seemed to have worked out, though he thought they may have done better if he'd had at least some prior practice.
The rest of the speech went pretty much how anyone would expect it to go. Unsurprising, he would be in the Keeper goals, blocking attempts by Linus and Renee to score on him. He mounted his broom - still new as far as he was concerned, being only a year old - and headed up to his place. He was taller than he'd been a year ago, but Dad had bought it with the expectation he'd gain another couple of inches. It was better suited now to him than it had been when it was brand new. Plus, now he'd been using it long enough that it was familiar and comfortable.
He was totally going to rock these goals this year.
With heavy steps Gareth made his way down to the Pitch. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other without tripping, something that had become a bit of a challenge of late seems he’d sprung up another three inches in the latter part of summer which completely threw off his coordination. It was aggravating, but Gareth found that it didn’t impact his flying as much as his walking, which was a small plus. He now stood at a lofty 5 ft 2 inches.
Gareth’s father had been pleased with him making the team last term, and had given him a long talk about strategy in the hopes of helping bring Crotalus to the finals and the full win this term. With years of practice he pushed down the ill feeling he got when he thought of flying. As always, he avoided breakfast when he knew he was going to be flying to avoid any unfortunate incidents. He would never love flying, but he would do his duty and manage his fear well enough that he could go another year without it being obvious for his team.
At least this year Cepheus would be playing too, that would help reduce his own anxiety because while his old Captain had been important to the team and all, Cepheus was his friend and protecting him would be more entertaining. Hopefully Crotalus’s newest Seeker would be able to help distract him from his fear of heights, at least until his competitive streak kicked in. That was something he’d learned of last year, unlike family games which were nothing by torture as he tried to hide his fear until the wretched game was done, there was a competitiveness to the school games that family games just lacked. When Gareth first started playing for the team he learned that he actually did have a competitive streak when it came to winning for his house and he used that feeling to focus solely on the game and not on his terror.
Unfortunately, that was only for the games. For tryouts, and practices it was still a bitter struggle not to want to be sick at the mere thought of mounting a broom. Taking a deep breath, Gareth squared his large shoulders and mounted his broom while ignoring the cold sweat on his palms that threatened to make his strong grip on his bat slip.
“He won’t get near you.” Gareth assured as he gave Topher a competitive smirk. Without looking down he flew, taking a position near enough to Cepheus that he could easily intercept anything, but not so close that he would risk getting in the Seekers way if he saw the snitch.
0Gareth WhitebriarBeating my Fears0Gareth Whitebriar05
Despite the fact that he hadn't played Quidditch in his first year, owing largely to the fact that he hadn't ever heard of the sport, as a third year, Linus felt almost as if he'd earned his place on the team by now. He only had one year of experience under his belt, and it hadn't been an exceptionally good year at that, but he'd proven he could fly, pass, and catch, and he'd more or less stood up to the pressure exerted on their team by the Aladrens. Therefore it was with a satisfied sense of justification that he found himself automatically drafted back onto the team with the rest of the players without having to actually try out. The fact that this was simply because there were no other hopefuls was irrelevant.
When the new captain for the year, Sam Bauer, began talking, Linus paid rapt attention. He had already picked out a school broom for the tryout, and he'd clocked in a few hours flying practise over the preceeding week, too, to make sure he was at his best after the long summer break. It had been helpful to rebuild his confidence on a broomstick without anyone else around to watch, and Linus was beginning to come to the conclusion that if he was going to be serious about being on the Quidditch team each year, and serious about actually winning some games, he was going to need a broomstick of his own. He hadn't the slightest clue how much a good model cost, but there were always sufficient Quidditch supplies magazines lying around the commonroom that he could easily do some research. In fact, that's what he planned to do as soon as tryouts were over and he'd made himself once more presentable. His family still had a reasonable amount of money, even with all their college funds continuously being topped up, and Linus thought a decent piece of sporting equipment might be afforded him if he kept his grades high.
With the matter of his own improved performance already considered, Linus turned his thoughts to improving the team. Sam mentioned they should try to invest others to the team, but Linus didn't know that many other Crotali he thought would play. His roomate, Paul, had signed up and played during their first year at Sonora, but he hadn't been back again, leading Linus to suspect he had given up on the sport. Still, maybe it was worth asking him, just in case. The two second years Linus knew were already on the team, and the remainder of his own yeargroup were all girls. Valerie was always sick, and Attoria seemed far too, well, girly, to want to play, but maybe some of the others could be encouraged. He'd keep it in mind next time he saw any of them.
For now, his task was simple: pass the ball to and from Renée, stop Sam from intercepting, and try to score against Nic. It was a fairly standard practise, so Linus collected the Quaffle, slung his leg over his borrowed broomstick and kicked off from the ground. He was a great deal more steady than when he'd been practising on his own, proving again that the extra effort had been worth it. Once he reached a reasonable height, Linus passed the broom in a simple over-arm shot to his female teammate. He still had a good throw - that much had always been in his favour - he just needed to work on the rest of his game.
As he warmed up for the Quidditch tryouts, Topher looked around at the other players, wondering how the changes were going to affect their chances for the Cup for maybe the thousandth time. He knew, really, that it was a trivial issue on one hand and not something he could actually do anything about on the other, but it was something that kept him entertained, something to think about when his mind wanted to wander and he decided that, with everything on a good set of scales, he’d prefer not to let it do that.
He was choosing to think it could be for the best. A Seeker with no experience seemed like a pretty bad thing on the surface, but Cepheus was smaller than Marissa had been, so maybe that could work to their advantage if he had any skill at all. Plus, there was apparently something in the Sonora air which favored younger underdogs; Arnold Carey had begun his streak as a first year, and then last year, once he got into the intermediate classes, he’d lost to one. Topher was aware that this was a crazy and stupid superstition, but if it worked again, and the new guy won, then Topher would start believing.
If. The big If. They had to win somehow or another, though; Topher had interpreted their Head of House putting them up against Aladren first last year as her being sick of them always coming in second place, and it had kind of, from the Crotalus point of view, backfired; if they did it again this year, he was pretty sure there was a good chance Coach Pierce was going to get annoyed with them. He was sure he could speak for all of them, except maybe Renée who needed her head examined and possibly shocked a few times anyway, if he said he didn’t want that to happen.
He listened to the assignments, smiling slightly at the note about not really knocking Cepheus off the broom if he could help it, and then laughed when Gareth promised Cepheus that Topher wouldn’t get anywhere near him. “Are you here to talk or here to watch while I pulverize your roommate?” he asked, mounting his own broom and tossing his bat from one hand to the other for a bit of show. Then he got in the air and began looking for an opening in Gareth’s guarding of the new Seeker. Now that he’d joined in the game of trash talking, he had to put his money where his mouth was; that was just the rule.
He had to maneuver the ball a little to do it, but he finally got to where he thought he’d have a clear shot. Frowning slightly in concentration, trying to use a bit of his mind at the same time to start thinking of what to do if it didn’t work, he pulled the bat back again and gave it a shot.
Gareth gave a good natured laugh at Topher’s comment. “As if you could keep up with us!” He taunted back, a grin broad on his lips at the challenge. It gave him something else to focus on instead of the way his stomach was attempting the unhappy feat of trying to physically tie itself in a knot around his spine. The wind danced though his short blond hair, and Gareth kept his crystal blue gaze half on Cepheus so that he could shadow the smaller boy, and half on the threat that Topher represented.
Unlike in a real game, where he had to keep track of not one but two enemy beaters, as well as remain focused on both trying to take down members of the opposite team while protecting his own, watching out for just Cepheus against Topher wasn’t particularly difficult. It allowed him to observe the upper classman’s every move and not permit the older Crotalus to get away with anything tricky. He kept his guard up and simply waited for Topher to make his move.
It didn’t take too long for his fellow Beater to maneuver the deadly bludger into a good enough position to make an attempt on their Seeker. Gareth tracked the dark menacing ball as it shot though the empty blue of the sky, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop down like his prized Peregrine falcon and bat it away. Close…closer…now! He shifted his bulk on the broom, tilting it nose down to place his large but youthful frame between the bludger and Cepheus.
Crack! The sound reverberated around the pitch, its vibrations tingled though his palm and up into his forearm as the black ball shot away. In a game like this it would be pointless to send the projectile back in Topher’s direction thus giving his fellow Beater more ammunition, instead Gareth angled his bat in such away that the dark ball shot away from the for now enemy beater, as well as away from where the chasers were playing out their own game. This way the elder Crotalus would be forced to waist time tracking down another bludger to make his second strike.
Paul had considered sitting Quidditch out this year, but had finally shrugged and accepted that he was no good at stepping out of something he had, for whatever reason, stepped into, and that he was doing well to step down to being an alternate. He would have felt somewhat more confident if the team had one more alternate, since he would be alone on the bench this year unless something changed, and that meant he would be both a little bored during games and have to run the risk of having to be the Seeker, but never getting called upon to play last year and the then-other guy not having to play, either, gave him some confidence.
Still, he decided not to be too enthusiastic. Who knew, maybe Sam Bauer would decide an older person should play Seeker or something, or take back his old position from Gareth, or – who knew, who knew. That was the problem with a new captain, he could do anything. One day, Paul guessed, he would know how to handle just about anything, the way his father did now, but for now, there were a lot of times he preferred to just walk around an issue instead of confronting it, and the less comparatively important the issue was, the more likely he was to do that. So he let the time come and go, and then came in after everyone else was in the air.
Overall, he thought they looked like they were doing pretty well. It was hard to know how well Cepheus would do against Arnold Carey, but Gareth seemed to have his end of things down pretty well, and Aladren had lost their main Beater – not that Preston Stratford was inconsiderable, and of course Pecari still had their main girl, but Edmond Carey had been the major problem, so if Topher could be even rougher with Arnold than he’d been when Edmond was around to look after his cousin and Gareth could keep anything else away from Cepheus, Crotalus might have a fighting chance this year. That sounded pretty good to Paul; the game wasn’t the highlight of his life, but he preferred to be affiliated with winners instead of losers.
When everyone came down, he greeted them, then approached Sam. “I’ll play alternate again, if you like,” he said without more preamble than a ‘hello, Sam.’ Sam Bauer was the captain and a prefect, but he didn’t particularly intimidate Paul, and Paul didn’t feel the need to be particularly deferential to him – which was probably, he thought, why team sports didn’t appeal to him very much anyway. He did not think it had anything to do with notions of inferiority or superiority, but more with a matter of energy; it took too much of it for him to find a reason to go along with that kind of thing without either genuine feelings of deference, which were rare, or a pressing reason an awful lot stronger than ‘he’s the Quidditch captain.’