Quidditch Game I: Aladren vs Pecari by Coach Olivers
The team rosters had been somewhat disappointing this year. Only Aladren and Pecari had been able to create full teams, with a few from Teppenpaw as reserves. At least there were enough students interested to hold a couple matches, and they deserved it after a dry season without last year. Perhaps that break from Quidditch had deterred some from returning to the pitch.The first game of the year always felt a little more exciting than those following. Florence could feel it in the air as she set up a table of water, but she had a feeling the excitement would give into fatigue sooner or later. It was going to be unbearably bright today with the last of summer’s heat already burning up the pitch. She was wearing a wide-brimmed hat and thin, white robes to try to endure the heat. It was going to be a scorching day and she hoped no one fainted or was overcome by heatstroke. The Quidditch uniforms weren’t exactly made of the most breathable material, and any overexcited fans were going to be prone to swooning.
Florence wanted both teams to hydrate themselves properly before starting the game, and she gestured for them to take water as she saw them make their way onto the pitch. When she saw the two team captains, she pulled them to the side. “Please make sure your teammates are hydrated before the game since you both know there aren’t any breaks during the match. But if any of your teammates feel a little woozy or dehydrated, don’t be afraid to ask for a reserve.” She smiled and pat both of them on the shoulder. “Good luck, boys. Go get some water.” The Teppenpaw reserves would be for both teams; with a day as hot as this, she wasn’t really sure what to expect. It would take a lot of stamina to make it through the game if the Snitch didn’t show itself quickly.
She waited a little longer than usual for the players to drink up and for the captains to make their respective speeches to their teams if they so chose. When it looked like they were about finished, she amplified her voice and stepped out to the center of the pitch. “Welcome to the first match of the year,” Florence announced. “Here we have Aladren,” she said, raising her arm to present the side, “led by James Carey, playing against Pecari,” she raised her other arm towards the other team, “led by Rupert Princeton. Captains, please shake hands.”
Once eye-contact was made and hands were shaken, Florence nodded at both of them to rejoin their teammates. She removed the Amplifying Charm before releasing the Snitch and the bludgers. Once that was done, she went to speak to the two teams. “When I blow my whistle, the game begins. The Seeker who catches the Snitch first wins. Good luck to you both.” She picked up the quaffle and readied herself to throw it into the air. “Players, please mount your brooms,” she said loudly, her years of voice projection kicking in. “The game begins in three, two, one—tweet!” She threw the Quaffle up into the air and stepped back. With that, the game had begun.
OOC: Welcome to Quidditch! As per posting rules, two paragraphs minimum are expected, but creative, detailed, and realistic posts will earn more points for your team. Please stick to the rules. In addition, no one should be falling from their broom to their deaths/injury. Florence will intervene before anyone falls to the ground. If you have any questions, tag Coach Olivers in the OOC board. Have fun with it!
Subthreads: </font>Beating with a Smile. by <font color=tan>Captain Rupert Princeton, Beater with <font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>, <font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>, <font color=tan>Adam Spencer, Chaser</font>, <font color=tan>Annette Pierce, Chaser</font>, <font color='blue'>Francesca, Chaser</font>, <font color=tan>Rupert Princeton, Beater</font>, <font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>, <font color="tan">Liliana Bannister</font>
Being protective by <font color=blue>Captain Jay Carey, Beater</font> with <font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
Must we keep on? by <font color='blue'>Theodore W, Keeper</font>
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Coach Olivers
Quidditch Game I: Aladren vs Pecari
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Coach Olivers
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<font color=tan>Captain Rupert Princeton, Beater
September 20, 2014 3:37 PM
</font>Beating with a Smile. by <font color=tan>Captain Rupert Princeton, Beater
It was an honour, being the Quidditch captain of such a fine team, and Rupert was confident in today's match. Their practises had sometimes run long, but he'd tried to encourage the team's morale by asking them all to lunch occasionally. He had also emphasised the importance of eating properly, and after waking up and grooming himself for today's match, he went down to Cascade to get a bite to eat. He thought about how worn his bat was becoming and how he ought to get a new one soon as he sipped his tea and water and ate his jam and toast. After a thought, he ate a banana as well before getting up and making his way to the pitch, broom and bat in hand.The weather, at times, could be a part of the challenge, and today it was extraordinarily hot. Rup wished he'd drunk more water at breakfast, but it seemed as though Coach Olivers had already thought of that for them. She pulled him and Jay Carey aside and told them to keep their team hydrated. Rupert nodded. "Thank you, Professor Olivers." Though Coach Olivers had been the coach now for two or three years, Rupert still had trouble calling her by her other title on the pitch. "Get hydrated before we get the match started, team," he said, taking some water himself. The water was cool and felt nice in this weather. But they'd hadn't even started playing yet.
"All right, get your last drinks and come over here," he said, motioning for his team-mates to join him closer to the centre of the pitch. Once they had gathered he smiled at them. "This is the first match of the year so let's make our house-mates proud. We've practised hard and can most certainly take the win, but don't underestimate the Aladrens. Make sure to sustain enough energy to make it through the match and know your limitations. Remember what we've practised. Atlas, for this match you will be guarding the Seeker. Make sure to aim any bludgers at the opposing Seeker if you can. If any of you feel the least bit woozy or faint, please let me know and I'll ask Professor Olivers for a reserve. I don't want any of you to be overcome by the heat, got it?"
With that, Rupert brought his team in. "Put your hands in. On three, we'll say Pecari. One, two, Pecari!" Rupert smiled widely at them and slid his Beater's glove on and flexed his hand. "We got this, Pecaris," he said to them as Coach Olivers began announcing the match. The excitement was beginning to affect Rupert, and he was dying to get up into the air. When it came time to shake hands, Rupert nodded at Jay. He wanted to say something nice, but good luck didn't seem appropriate in a match he and his team were planning to win.
Rupert made his way back to his team and mounted his broom when she said to. As soon as she threw the Quaffle up into the air, Rupert rose into the air, eyes already peeled for a bludger. An opportunity arose quickly and Rupert smacked the bludger straight for an Aladren Chaser. He hadn't protected Chasers except in practise, and there were three of his team-mates to watch for instead of just one. It was an invigorating challenge and Rup couldn't help but smile even though he could feel his blond hair already getting matted from sweat.
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<font color=tan>Captain Rupert Princeton, Beater
</font>Beating with a Smile.
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<font color=tan>Captain Rupert Princeton, Beater
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<font color=blue>Captain Jay Carey, Beater</font>
September 22, 2014 12:03 AM
Being protective by <font color=blue>Captain Jay Carey, Beater</font>
As he looked between his team and the Pitch, Jay thought that he and Anthony, at least, might have a very slight advantage over some of the others on the field: they were from a very hot, humid climate and hadn’t been back at the usually more temperate Sonora long enough to forget how to deal with that climate yet. At home, the air sometimes felt like breathing soup in the summer, but they were expected to and did go outside and do things in it anyway. Aunt Lorraine, who, as a medical professional, was more interested in their health than in their manliness and strength, made them stay indoors during the worst of it, June and July and especially August temperatures in the nineties and hundreds with more than ninety percent humidity and such, but heat did not, he was sure, fundamentally bother him and Anthony as much as it would bother some of the other people on the Pitch.Now the question was whether or not their Seeker being a completely untried second year and their half-trained new Chaser being a first year from Canada - a place Jay had the vague impression was mostly frozen, with even its livable parts still very cold and occasionally snowy even in summer – would be big enough disadvantages to completely eradicate any advantage his and Anthony’s ability to withstand heat might give Aladren. Jay would not have put his money, if he’d had any, on him and Anthony being more of a strength than the Beginners were a weakness, but was forcing himself to believe that they might surprise him on the Pitch. The alternative was worrying about them – in addition to probably being liabilities, his mixed feelings of wanting to look after them and tell them to go away at the same time made him regard them in much the way he regarded his older sister Theresa and the two or three youngest of his five other siblings, if to a much lesser extent – and he really didn’t have time for that on game day.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said to Coach Olivers’ instructions, then went back to the rest of the Aladren team.
“She wants you all to know that you should drink lots of water,” Jay told them. “I wouldn’t worry too much about needing a bathroom break, you’ll probably sweat it all out in this first.” He then remembered that Francesca was a girl and just barely kept himself from pinching the bridge of his nose as he glanced at her and then quickly away. “Ah – right. So. This is probably the worst good weather I've ever played in, so if the Snitch appears, Clark, get it as quickly as you can. We’ll – “ he gestured slightly in Mr. Bennett’s direction; he didn’t know how intense the situation around the Seekers would get, so he was planning to play it by ear and be wherever he thought he was most need during the game as it developed – “and do what we can to bash their Seeker’s head in as soon as possible.” Was that imagery too violent for his problem children? He wouldn’t have thought about it with Brandon, the brother nearest in age to Mr. Dill and Mr. Umland, but, well, Brandon was a Carey. Jay had the idea that people outside the family were often easier to shock than people in it. “Well, maim enough to make it easier for you,” he amended. “And then the medic will make sure there’s no permanent damage. Anyway. If you feel faint, head for the ground, they’ll put one of the Teppenpaws in. The same goes for everyone else. We don’t want anyone getting sick.”
He could imagine the look on his cousin Arnold’s face at the very idea that health could be more important than Quidditch. Arnold’s success as a Seeker at Sonora had rested on his willingness to keep playing through any injury that didn’t knock him unconscious, and while he had gotten more cautious as a professional, Jay thought that was more to keep the peace with his wife and extend the length of his career than because of any real concern about what he was doing to his body by playing like he was immortal. He decided it would be kinder not to tell his cousin about his concession to common morality just to see if the image he imagined was accurate the next time they were together.
“That’s about it. Good luck, everyone, here’s hoping we’re next together at the victory party,” he said with a smile, then went to listen to the directions and shake hands with Rupert Princeton, taking a moment to reflect on how fortunate it was that he wasn’t being forced to make such a friendly gesture toward another Quidditch-playing Princeton. It had been bad enough when Cepheus Princeton was just presumptive enough to put his hands on Jay’s sister, but now, after last year, even assuming that half of what Theresa had said had occurred when he jilted her was dramatically exaggerated or a flat-out lie, Jay was more inclined to punch the older Princeton in the face than to shake his hand.
In the air, he signaled to Leonidas that he was planning to follow their Seeker for now, which he then did. Maybe one of the Teppenpaws might technically, being older - he thought a couple of them were, anyway - be a better player than Dill, but Clark was theirs. A non-Aladren wasn't going to want it as much as one of their own, and might even, if there were Teppenpaws who thought that way, try to sabotage them just because Aladren had been a winning team for so long.
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<font color=blue>Captain Jay Carey, Beater</font>
Being protective
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<font color=blue>Captain Jay Carey, Beater</font>
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<font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>
September 22, 2014 12:53 AM<font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by:
Age in Post: 13
You won't be smiling long by <font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>
It was probably ironic, hypocritical, or some combination of the two, considering that he played one himself, but Leo thought that he never would understand the minds of the sports-minded. They were completely insane. With only four teams at the best of times and only two at the moment, there was no reason at all why every game which ever happened when the weather was unpleasant couldn’t be rescheduled for the following weekend, but the officials never did it. People liked Quidditch enough to put up with it, so why would they bother?Incomprehensible to him, and he wasn’t some of his siblings, who didn’t believe in enduring the slightest discomfort. Leo believed in working hard to attain his goals, which necessarily involved suffering sometimes. He didn’t, though, believe in masochism, and at Sonora, insult was just added to injury whenever they played in bad weather. The school’s weather was artificial. It only happened because of charms. It should never have been unpleasant on Quidditch weekends, and even if they couldn’t control the charms, there was still the nice indoor Pitch in MARS….
He tugged at his collar as his captain went to speak with the coach and the Pecari captain. He was, he knew, griping to no purpose, but the heat was not agreeing with him at all, and if he didn’t give himself full reign to gripe in his head, he was afraid he might start griping out loud. That would not win him the goodwill of his teammates, which was, after all, what he was here for in the first place.
Carey seemed…odd during his speech, which was why Leo restrained himself to a smirk instead of laughing at the part about only maiming the opposing Seeker a little. He watched the handshake, caught the signal to look after the Chasers, and almost immediately had to get to work when Princeton tried to take out one of Aladren’s Chasers.
“Not now, pal,” he muttered under his breath as he hit the Bludger away from his teammate and toward a brown robe. He didn’t even know if Aladren had the Quaffle yet, but that wasn’t relevant to his position. His sole job was to make sure that his roommate’s sister, the Carey heir, and the first year made it through the game intact, or at least that if they didn’t, it was because they fainted and crashed hard because of the heat, not because Princton hit them with Bludgers.
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<font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>
You won't be smiling long
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<font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>
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<font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>
September 22, 2014 1:41 AM
We'll be all smiles, though by <font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>
They had not been on the Pitch very long before Professor Olivers called his cousin over to talk about something with her and Rupert Princeton before the game, but as Jay walked away, Anthony realized he had just raised his hand to his forehead to wipe away sweat. The edges of his pale brown hair moved away from where they’d gotten stuck as he completed the gesture, shaking his head and assuming that today was not going to be fun. It could have been worse, but heat was…exhausting. Sometimes at home, it was exhausting to breathe once it got bad enough, and playing Quidditch in it was probably worse than playing Quidditch in the rain. Sufficient heat could make the one of his two older brothers who was usually very energetic become lethargic, and make the one who was usually very formal…at least occasionally, anyway, come downstairs in his rolled-up shirtsleeves and without a tie, an article of clothing Anthony imagined no one at Sonora except his roommates and close family had ever seen Arthur without in any part of the school other than this very Pitch. Heat was miserable.On the bright side, Anthony guessed it would affect the Pecaris as much as it did them, and he thought they had more good people left than Pecari did, especially since their Seeker had graduated last year. His brother had admired Jade Owen as a player, but she was gone now, and Anthony really thought Aladren had a good chance.
“I bet the Pecaris won’t even be able to keep up with us,“ he remarked to the other Chasers while they waited for Jay. “There won’t be a brown robe anywhere near the Quaffle all game.”
This was more for John’s benefit than Francesca’s. He imagined it could be a little unnerving to join in the game with the rest of them. Clark was the only one in John’s age group, and as the Seeker, Clark was off doing his own thing most of the time. The rest of the team was composed of two roommates, the sister of one of those two, and a pair of first cousins, all of whom had known each other for years, now, and gone through last year and all that. If he had been eleven, with no family in the entire House, that Anthony and Jay had been able to find out about, or even a roommate, and had walked into that situation and then heard about what the Aladren team had been in recent years and the pressure to succeed in all arenas that fell on the players, Anthony thought he would have been jittery enough to forget even the basics. He doubted he had done a very good job of boosting morale if it was that bad – he was not good at thinking of things to say on the spot, and he hadn’t thought of the need to say something before the game so he could prepare remarks – but, well, he’d tried.
“It’s a great day, everyone,” he lied to the team at large as he got a drink of water and saw his cousin turning back toward them with instructions to do just that. Jay didn’t do a very good job, in Anthony’s opinion, of backing up his optimistic statement when he started giving his speech after that, seeming – at least to Anthony, who knew him – a little stressed and uncomfortable, not like himself at all. Maybe his RATS were getting to him or Theresa had started ranting about cursing people again; Anthony made a mental note to ask how he was doing later, after they won the game.
Until then, though, he decided to assume that his cousin was on his toes enough to do his job and focused on his own instead of on Jay, flying forward as the Quaffle went up and catching it before it could drift back to the ground. As he started flying toward the Pecari goals, he heard the crack of bats, but since there were two, he didn’t worry about it too much, instead looking for and finding a good opening to pass the Quaffle toward one of his fellow blue Chasers.
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<font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>
We'll be all smiles, though
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<font color="blue">Anthony Carey, Chaser</font>
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<font color=tan>Adam Spencer, Chaser</font>
September 22, 2014 1:16 PM
Doing what we love. by <font color=tan>Adam Spencer, Chaser</font>
The heat was unbearable. Adam had only been on the pitch for a few minutes and he was already beginning to feel hot and constrained in his uniform. He'd never felt the heat this intense before and wondered why today of all days it had to be like this. At the very least, the heat affected all of the players and not just him and his team. Adam looked over at his cousin, wondering why Professor Olivers was talking to him and the other captain.Since becoming the Assistant Captain, Adam had become more aware of all the dealings the real Captain had to do. He liked observing, but when it came to be his turn, Adam was slightly less enthusiastic about it. It was a lot of work and pressure, and Adam wasn't even a real competitive spirit to begin with.
At the water table, Adam noticed Francesca and wondered briefly if Ginny was in the stands. "Don't get hurt out there," he said to her, grinning. He lifted a hand to say goodbye as his cousin called the team together and he jogged over to them. The short jog felt like an eternity with the sun beating down on him. His dark brown hair was matted on his head already with sweat and he moved his short fringe off of his forehead for a moment. Once they got up into the air he hoped it would get better. At least then there would be something to take his mind off the heat. Poor Liliana would have to suffer, sitting by the hoops as she did, but still he hoped there wouldn't be too much activity in that area to keep her on her toes. As for Annette, he certainly hoped the Snitch showed itself sooner than later.
Aladren was a good team and Adam didn't underestimate them in the slightest. He was, however, very confident in his own team. Not only were they a bunch of great players, but they knew each other relatively well. Adam admired his cousin for being so friendly and welcoming all the time. Adam liked his moments of solitude, but Rupert always seemed to have so much energy, at least when it came to Quidditch and the team. After their little pep-talk and cheer, Adam felt energised and ready to begin. As soon as Coach Olivers blew her whistle, Adam rose up into the air and followed the Quaffle immediately.
Unfortunately one of the blue-robes snatched it before he could and Adam didn't think he had to look at his team-mates before they went after it. They had a new Chaser on the team, but Adam thought the Pecari Chasers were a strong unit. He didn't doubt anyone's ability except his own at times. He wasn't particularly outstanding as a Chaser, about average, but when he was with his team he felt confident. Pecari had won the Quidditch Cup in recent years and he didn't doubt they could do it again even without Jade.
Anthony Carey had the Quaffle in hand and Adam made eye-contact with one of the other Pecari Chasers as he neared the wizard. He flew very close to Anthony, blocking his right side. He heard the whiz of a bludger, but it seemed as though one of the blue Beaters had protected both he and Carey. Sticking to Carey's side sounded like a good idea for now, at least until he dropped the Quaffle. If Adam wasn't the best Chaser, he was certainly a good flyer. "Lovely day, isn't it?" he asked conversationally, his dark eyes flickering from the ball to Anthony's face and back again. "Just a bit hot." If all went well, Anthony's pass could be intercepted by one of Adam's team-mates.
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<font color=tan>Adam Spencer, Chaser</font>
Doing what we love.
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<font color=tan>Adam Spencer, Chaser</font>
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<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
September 22, 2014 9:45 PM<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Nathan
Age in Post: 12
Birthday: Who knows? But he celebrates it in November
Being protected by <font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
It was hot. That was the first thing Clark noticed when he stepped outside on his way to the year's first Quidditch game. The second was that it was really sunny. Sunny could be good or bad. It would glint off the snitch, which would make it easier to spot, but then it would glint off everything else, too, leading to false sightings. Plus, well, the brightness was going to start straining everyone's eyes sooner rather than later. He wasn't sure if that was going to be worse than the heat itself during the game. Clark briefly considered running back inside to see if he could find his pair of sunglasses, but decided that (a) he wasn't quite sure where he'd put them and didn't have time to find them if they weren't in an obvious place, and (b) they'd probably make it harder to find the snitch anyway. He abandoned that idea and kept going to join the rest of the Aladrens on the pitch, giving them cheerful greetings that revealed only a little bit of nervousness on his part.This was, after all, his first real game ever in his life, and he was playing Seeker, which was only the most easy to blame position if they lost. He was up against a sixth year, too, though he'd heard it was Miss Pierce's first time as a Seeker, too, so that wasn't quite as scary as it might have otherwise been. Though it looked like she had her own personal broom while Clark was stuck with a school one. Still, he though he had a pretty decent shot at winning anyway. He'd been flying for as long as he could remember and his dad had been an Aladren Seeker himself, so this sort of ran in the family. Clark figured however nervous he was, his dad must have been way worse during his first game some twenty years ago or so. Dad hadn't even touched a broom until he was eleven. Well, not a flying one anyway. So however he did, he didn't think Dad would be too disappointed. That eased some of the pressure anyway, though he certainly didn't want to let down any of his teammates, especially the older ones who were used to winning most of their games.
He downed a cup of water at the Coach and captain's insistence, then another one because keeling over of dehydration had to be the worst way to lose a Quidditch match ever, and Clark didn't want to be that guy. Jay's advice to catch the snitch quickly was definitely something he would follow given half a chance.
When the whistle blew, he kicked off the ground and welcomed the wind in his face as he sped up into the air. In his earliest memories, he had lived in southern California, and more recently he called Maryland home (which, while a mid-Atlantic state, it did fall south of the Mason-Dixon line and was considered 'South' from a Civil War perspective at least), so excessive heat was not a completely foreign concept to him. Plus, Space Camp was held in Alabama, and that was definitely hot. That didn't mean he liked it. Judging by how quickly he tended to break out in sweat and heat-swollen fingers, he was pretty sure his alien forebears had not come from a particularly tropical planet.
So far, he was sweating but his fingers remained normal sized. He dearly hoped that continued because clumsy fingers were a pretty serious disadvantage for a Seeker.
He noticed that Jay was keeping close enough to keep him safe and was glad of that. He'd never tell Leonidas as much, but it did help boost his confidence knowing that he really only had to worry about the snitch and the team's most experience beater would take care of any bludgers that might come his way. Even better, he saw with a glance over toward the Chasers, Pecari had decided to set their top beater into the Quaffle game.
Reaching a good Seeking altitude, he leveled out and reduced speed slightly. It was still faster than he might have otherwise cruised about looking for the Snitch, but he wanted to be moving at a great enough speed that the flight-induced breeze kept the worst of the day's heat from stifling him. His eyes darted about the field below, looking for flashes of sunlight reflecting back at him. He didn't expect anything this early, of course, but a good pattern was essential to set early so one was ready when it did appear.
For now, he ignored the Pierce twin who was his adversary. Dad's advice had been to play the Snitch's game, not the other Seeker's. As few people were aware that Snitches were actually telepathic alien beings who found it amusing to toy with wizards in this way, Clark expected he did have the advantage in that respect.
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<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
Being protected
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<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
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<font color=tan>Annette Pierce, Chaser</font>
September 22, 2014 10:18 PM
Dodging, I think, is what I love this very moment by <font color=tan>Annette Pierce, Chaser</font>
Annette hated hot weather. Annabelle disliked it more, of course; she was the one who got all up and bothered by sweat stains, but Annette found it uncomfortable enough even without considering its affects on her hair and wardrobe. Of course, her hair was nothing to be worried about today. It was a game day, so her dark locks were pulled back into a tight french braid that would keep it out of the way for the duration of the match. She kind of wished they'd opted for a bun or something else that would have kept the hair off her neck, but those were far more likely to come undone during the rolls and sharp turns that came with playing Quidditch. As she stood about with her teammates while the Coach spoke privately to the captains, she found a random barrette in her robe pocket that she must have left there when it came loose during one of their practices. She used it to clip the bottom of her braid to the top of her head. It probably wouldn't last the whole game, but she considered losing the barrette a fair price for however much time it bought her with a bare neck. It already felt a couple degrees cooler than it had a moment ago.She drank up eagerly, already feeling thirsty from the walk out to the pitch (which was not a good sign, but as a mountain dweller from New Hampshire, she was accustomed to hiding in the basement and asking her mother for cooling charms during the handful of summer days it got this bad outside).
When the whistle blew, she kicked off and went for the Quaffle, but Anthony was there first. Adam was on him as they rose in altitude, so she flew ahead, trying to get in a position to block a pass to one of the other Aladrens. She left the new kid to Joella, choosing to put herself between Anthony and Francesca instead. That matched up the three sets of chasers to opponents of roughly the same skill level. The Chaser game did look fairly evenly matched this game, she had to admit that.
That was her plan anyway, until it met with the enemy. The enemy, in this case, being a bludger. It initially was heading toward Anthony, but then the smaller Aladren beater defended his teammate by whacking it towards her. She peeled away from Francesca, kind of hoping it would keep going and hit the other girl (but kind of not because she liked Francesca), and started a dive to try to lose it.
That didn't work quite as well as she would have hoped, so she redirected again, keeping enough speed to stay ahead of it, if only barely, and moved toward Rupert. "Present for you!" she called out to him, leading the black metal ball toward her teammate with a bat.
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<font color=tan>Annette Pierce, Chaser</font>
Dodging, I think, is what I love this very moment
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<font color=tan>Annette Pierce, Chaser</font>
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<font color='blue'>Francesca, Chaser</font>
September 23, 2014 2:42 AM
I love you dodging too by <font color='blue'>Francesca, Chaser</font>
Francesca was not overly used to heat. Sure, Chicago got pretty hot during the summer but that was why her family packed up and shipped out to a lake in Vermont for the season, where the temperatures were much more agreeable. Still, when the mercury made its way through the seventies, she still found herself running cover, either in the form of stretching out under the shade of a tree with a good book, or diving into the lake and spending the day submerged up to her neck in the cool, refreshing water. Neither of those heat survival tactics was going to work now.Before she'd seen the weather, she had thought that the team configurations were going to be the biggest of her problems. Their own Chaser mix was different, as was Pecari's. In theory, that put them on a similar footing but, whilst she couldn't claim to know quite how the twins thought, she was at least used to playing them. Their own team had practised hard and she'd done her best to work with the new boy. He was significantly younger than her and not from the same background, so she couldn't see them having much common ground beyond the game but on the pitch none of that mattered - they needed to be thick as thieves.
She listened to Jay telling them to hydrate, wondering whether she was imagining the little glance she thought he gave her. She'd been prone to reading pointed glances into people's body language when she first arrived, perhaps where none really existed and although she'd got better over the years, as she found her team-mates accepting and tolerating, any hint that she was being treated strangely for being a girl struck a nerve. Did Jay think she was more fragile than the rest of them?That didn't tie with when she thought she'd caught his look.... Did he worry that coarse talk of sweating and urinating would offend her? It wasn't like she'd never broken a sweat in training, pushing herself as hard as the rest of them, and even the most particular and prissy little Pureblood girls peed (though, she supposed, they didn't talk about it). Maybe it was just concern because she was already breaking quite the sweat just standing there. She wiped her brow trying to put the thought to the back of her mind. Getting upset that Jay might think her less than equal to the rest of them was not going to help her get into the right frame of mind for the match.
She went to help herself to water. As she was gulping some down, she heard a voice telling her not to get hurt. It was lucky that she had a mouth full of water, which in her indignation she managed to choke on, as a few choice things to say to this remark occurred to her before she realised it was Adam and that it was probably friendly banter rather than actual sexism. She'd still thrown him a fairly full glare before she'd realised.
“You either,” she nodded, raising her glass to him, and hoping this gesture and her smirk back at him outweighed her earlier frown.
When the whistle blew, she kicked off, trying to ignore the trickles of sweat that she could feel running all over her body. She smiled to herself as Anthony took possession of the Quaffle, trying to get into place to receive it. Adam and Annette were on the ball though, and were quick to mark her and her team-mate. With Adam on Anthony's right, she tried to get around to his left side and, although she managed that, Annette was making it difficult for that to be useful.
“It's so nice that you want to hang out!” she called, as her swerves failed to shake the girl, meaning she was still in the way of any attempt by Anthony to pass. It made her feel better to be up in the air, exchanging banter with her friends. That said, she wasn't sorry when the whistle of a Bludger caught them up. That was always a test.... holding your nerve to the last possible moment, seeing which of you it would go for. She swerved a little as it closed in, and Annette was forced to peel away from her as it chose its target. She tightened the gap just as Anthony passed, glad for the gripping charms that helped the Quaffle stay in her sweat-slippery hands. She also hadn't heard any screaming and splintering wood, so she trusted Annette had manoeuvred well enough to avoid the Bludger.
Tucking the Quaffle under her arm, she struck out forwards, trying to keep an eye out for her Pecari tail regaining the ground lost by the Bludger, or any of the rest of them sneaking up on her. They probably wouldn't be far behind, though she was enjoying the refreshing breeze that came with making a dash... Seeing a nearby blur of blue, and not being aware of any immediate threats, she arched her arm back, making the pass when she was close by.
13
<font color='blue'>Francesca, Chaser</font>
I love you dodging too
250
<font color='blue'>Francesca, Chaser</font>
0
5
<font color=tan>Rupert Princeton, Beater</font>
September 23, 2014 3:12 PM
Let's cut that short, shall we? by <font color=tan>Rupert Princeton, Beater</font>
The Quaffle was up and a Beater he wasn’t familiar with smacked it away towards one of his Chasers. It was disappointing whenever his well-aimed bludgers didn’t hit their target, but this was only the beginning. The bludger was momentarily lost in the fray, but Rupert saw it when it was nearing Annette, he quickly flew towards her, but then she moved. She had avoided it, good. But the bludger was following her. Just a moment closer and Rupert would be in range to smack it away, but Annette kept moving and the bludger kept following. He had half a mind to yell at her to stop dancing with it; this wasn’t a ball, this was Quidditch and he, the Beater, was close enough to hit it if she would stop moving so much. It was his job to protect her, not to bring bludgers to him.“Thanks,” said Rupert in response. At the right moment, Rupert slammed it towards one of the blue-robed Chasers. He was slightly irritated that the Aladrens still had the Quaffle and Annette had been followed by a bludger. It wasn’t her fault she had been forced to dance with it. If he’d kept a closer eye then he would have been able to deflect it sooner. Being a Beater for Chasers was a bit more difficult than he’d imagined. Amira had just made it look so easy.
Rupert kept a close eye on his team-mates. He couldn’t watch over all of them, but he could certainly could try and see whether the Chasers were getting fatigued. They were hardly into the match, but Rupert was sweating profusely. He had built up his endurance well enough, but he hoped the rest of his team would last. This had to be the strangest weather he’d played in yet, a deceivingly terrible day to play.
He watched the bludger now, waiting for a moment to spring. Rupert wanted to take down the Beaters, but that would be slightly unproductive. He remembered his cheek as a first year, thinking if he could shoot down the opposing Beater he’d have nothing to worry about. He’d improved much in his skills since then and had learnt a great deal more about strategy. It was difficult to strategise when bludgers were so unpredictable. Rup wanted to fly close to his Chasers as he’d flown close to his Seeker in years past, but there were three persons instead of one and they flew all over the place. It was a challenge, certainly, and Rupert hoped he was adequate enough to take care of it all. As long as they chased after the Quaffle, Rup thought he’d be able to block them well enough if he stayed close to the Quaffle as well.
“Let’s go, Pecari!” he shouted, cheering his team on as he kept one eye on the bludgers and the other on the Quaffle. It might be the heat, but Rup found himself more easily agitated and he didn't like it. He just wanted to hit some more bludgers.
0
<font color=tan>Rupert Princeton, Beater</font>
Let's cut that short, shall we?
0
<font color=tan>Rupert Princeton, Beater</font>
0
5
<font color=tan>Adam Spencer, Chaser</font>
September 23, 2014 3:12 PM
Sounds like a fine idea. by <font color=tan>Adam Spencer, Chaser</font>
Adam had been slightly surprised by Francesca’s cold greeting earlier. Had he done something to offend her? It had seemed forced, her smirk, but he couldn’t exactly ask her about that now. Adam tried to push it out of his mind as the match started, pressing close to Anthony. Making a few comments to his opposition helped him focus, but there was still the lingering worry. He just didn’t like it when his mates were seemingly angry at him for no reason.Carey eventually passed the Quaffle and Adam nodded. “Been a pleasure,” he said before chasing after Francesca to do the same to her. Annette had been in a good place before the bludger had come towards her, and he wondered where his cousin was. He was supposed to be protecting them, wasn’t he? Adam didn’t hear any yells of pain, so he hoped for the best and kept his eye on the Quaffle. He was close behind her, and was ready to intercept the pass when she made it. He reached out and grabbed it out of the air and tucked it under his arm. As soon as he had it, he dived and turned around.
The Quaffle felt nice under his arm; it was secure. It had to be as he and his team had lots of ground to cover. Adam liked flying lower to the ground. It was slightly cooler here, if only slightly, but he knew he had to eventually fly back up. He saw a fellow brown-robed Chaser flying above him, and he flew upwards quickly and handed it off to her. He stayed close to her for a moment before flying ahead to make himself open for a pass. He hoped not to make the first attempt at a goal, but if it came down to it he supposed he had no choice.
Playing in this heat was close to torture, he thought. He wasn’t used to being outside in such intense heat, let alone playing Quidditch in such heavy robes. There didn’t seem to be any liquid in the air to combat the sun even if the humidity would make him sweat more. It was no wonder Arizona was such a parched state. Adam had drunk enough water to keep himself hydrated, but the heat was following him whilst the water was not. Flying furiously towards the goals had helped, but trying to focus whilst sitting on his broom in the sun at this elevation was difficult. His brown hair had moved away from his face and was sticking up in strange directions from the sweat and at the speed he’d been flying at. Adam didn’t care to comb it down with his fingers.
“Come on, Adam, concentrate,” he said to himself, focusing his dark eyes on the Quaffle. Maybe getting back in the fray would help. He flew closer to the other Chasers, waiting for someone to make a pass so he could get himself back into the game.
0
<font color=tan>Adam Spencer, Chaser</font>
Sounds like a fine idea.
0
<font color=tan>Adam Spencer, Chaser</font>
0
5
<font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>
September 25, 2014 5:36 PM<font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 11
Birthday: September 23rd
I'm just trying to keep up. by <font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>
“I’m not going to die.”John had muttered those five words to himself over and over again as he’d stared at the slice of lemon bobbing in his breakfast tea. “I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die.” Then he’d noticed that his cup was cooling under his fingers, so he’d swallowed about a third of it in one, warmed his cup, eaten his toast and eggs, had his third-and-one-third cup, and then wandered out into the vestibule, where he’d looked at Professor Mims’ portrait and calmly announced, “I’m totally going to die.”
The professor had raised an eyebrow and told him not to do anything that might put Pecari ahead in points on his way out. Feeling oddly comforted, John had returned to his room before his sister could find him. He’d tried to work for a while, but had ended up just sitting on the end of his bed, practicing levitating small objects, trying to get more than one at a time in the air, and staring straight ahead at one of his clocks. He thought he puzzled over his nerves not making any sense (why did he care?) with the rest of his attention until it was time to go downstairs again, but didn’t really remember by the time he stood up to do so. It felt odd, not carrying his wand with him, but the thought of getting it snapped by a Bludger did not appeal to him. He felt like he was finally getting the hang of using it and didn’t want to start over with a new one.
Outside, he continued to stare ahead, smiling vaguely when Anthony said something. The other Chasers were not his friends, but they were not hostile and had common interests, so he thought their…teammateship (was that even a word?) was going better than he had expected.
The captain came back (John thought he remembered him leaving, now that he thought about it) and said something about water. Water absorption. Water processing. Summer, heat, it sounded accurate, dehydration was a danger in summer, sweat cooled the body but there was a risk of dehydration –
Trying to remember if he had ever read how quickly kidneys worked or how much the average person sweated under particular conditions broke through the jittery fog in his head. Unfortunately, he also realized, as he came to himself, why it was necessary for the captain to bring up hydration: it was murderously hot out here. John quickly went for the available water. If they had to stay out too long in this, he wasn’t sure he might not end up having told Professor Mims the truth after breakfast…But it wouldn’t go on that long, of course. For one thing, he did not think he had been meant to die of heatstroke here, now. For another, he was pretty sure they did something to make sure school games only went on so long – a week-long match would interfere with classes. Plus, after last year, they weren’t going to do anything that might result in student casualties – if it got too bad, they’d call the thing off. All he really had to worry about was not getting hit in the head by Bludgers – he didn’t mind other injuries so much, but John did worry a little bit about head injuries. He couldn’t figure out what he’d do with himself if he woke up one day and wasn't able to do what he did mentally now anymore –
“Huh,” he muttered, the reason for his preoccupation occurring to him. He didn’t have much time to think about this revelation, though, because the game started.
He got into the air, which he figured was a nice accomplishment to start. And – yes, there was the Quaffle! If the Crotali had been playing, he might have taken a little longer to figure it out because he thought they played in red, but he could see it here. And – why, his side had it! That was arguably, from his position, not a good thing, because that meant he might end up with it in front of all these people, which was really not as much like playing in practice or presenting things to other Scouts as he had imagined it would be, but it was a good thing in the big picture. That was what counted, that and not falling off this school-owned excuse for a thing as he followed everyone else –
One way, Quaffle moving – flash of brown. Enemies had broken the line. Could he successfully do the same thing they had just done, get in the way so the ball didn’t go where they wanted it to go? Maybe; he tried to picture it in his head, but not colliding with one of them and breaking the contact rule would be…hard. He wanted to be…finessed, he thought it might be, but his arms and legs didn’t always cooperate with him, and he was still not that used to being on a speeding broomstick. He could collide with one of them more or less on purpose and clear the way that way, but sacrificing himself (he had thought before, during practices, that this really wasn’t all that much unlike chess; Clark was the King, weak but essential, the Beaters the Queen and a Knight or Rook, defending, Theodore a Bishop, unable to leave his own end but a defender, too, and the Chasers were pawns; it didn’t work out very well with actual Quidditch strategy, especially since they were short a piece unless the idea of a siege tower was applied to the hawkshead attacking formation or something and their Rook therefore could appear and disappear at will, but it worked well enough for him, especially since he thought he could see how Chasers could be played into the part of the game that mattered, even though he had yet to read about anyone doing what he thought could be done with them) didn’t make sense, the positional advantage wouldn’t outweigh the material loss; he felt useless right now but might be useful later….
He felt sudden sympathy for Grandpa Umland’s magical talking chessmen. Trying to talk through potential moves during the game sounded appealing right now, but shouting around like that wouldn’t really work in this game. He’d have to try to figure it out and for now, just follow everyone else and look for something he thought he could do without dying while still thinking. He could do more if he could get out of his head, but right now, he was too busy trying to figure out what was going on in this sudden, surprising mass of people to get out of his head yet -
He flew after a blue robe and to its open side, figuring that was the best he could do for now. His teammates could hopefully lead him in the right direction until he adjusted to a truly new experience he wasn't sure he was up to (the unusual stimulus which he thought had made his day so strange so far; he was used to assuming that he could do everything he did without any serious trouble, mostly because he did everything either alone or with a few trusted people, not like this; this was so not as much like games on the ground at home, or even watching Quodpot games Dad commentated for once or twice a year, as he had thought it would be) and could maybe be more proactive then.
16
<font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>
I'm just trying to keep up.
285
<font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>
0
5
<font color="tan">Liliana Bannister</font>
September 27, 2014 12:51 AM<font color="tan">Liliana Bannister</font>
AlumnusHouse: Pecari
Written by: Mathilde Reinhardt
Age in Post: 13
I just can't wait for a lemonade. by <font color="tan">Liliana Bannister</font>
That morning, Liliana had woken up completely ready for the first match of the year. She had been beyond excited to get back on the Pitch and play against an opposing team-- practice just wasn’t the same to her, and in getting ready she had even attempted a hair spell her mother had learnt her over the summer break. Thankfully it had worked and her hair was tightly put back in it’s signature braid-- this time, however, it was not sloppily put up by her own hands and (she hoped) it would stay neat over the duration of the match. Liliana had even tied little gold and brown ribbons through the braid for House spirit. However, one thing she hadn’t expected when she stepped out of the Pecari common room into the Labyrinth Gardens to make her way to Cascade Hall for breakfast, was the heat that slammed her in the face. Liliana was not particularly good with the heat. It tended to make her a little…angrier than usual. This particular day was no different. Other than the Quidditch match that she was (still) expected to play, that was. But, loosing her cool during the match would not be good, so she kept her mouth shut even though Atlas’ incessant conversation during conversation was beyond irritating and bothering her to no end.By the time the two friends had reached the Quidditch Pitch, Liliana felt as though she wanted to flat out punch him in the throat if only to keep him from rambling on so but refrained herself from the action because she didn’t want to get penalized before the match even started. Rupert had ensured them to be properly hydrated by asking them to take their drinks with them for the pre-match team meeting and Liliana had finished her entire water bottle. It was during this meeting that she realized that she ought to invest in some sort of water bottle holster in order to be able to constantly have her water bottle on her. As a Keeper she didn’t really fly around too much though she did have to make sudden movements once Quaffles began to fly at her. Perhaps she would be able to tie bottles of water to the hoops, near the base of them so it wouldn’t block Quaffles from being thrown in but still high enough that she would be able to grab them while the Quaffle was at the other end of the pitch. Liliana wondered if Coach Olivers (Merlin that was weird to say) would have a problem with that.
“Put your hands in!” Cried Rupert, waking Liliana from her daydreams about water bottles. “On three, we’ll say Pecari. One, two, PECARI!” Liliana shouted their house name with all the lung she had in her and returned Rupert’s large smile.
After Olivers announced the match, Liliana gripped her broom tightly and prepared to kick off. Rupert and Jay shook hands. Olivers threw the Quaffle into the air. Liliana took off for the hoops as fast as she could in case Aladren got the Quaffle first- which she hoped her team wasn’t planning on. Lucky she had done so too as the younger Carey grabbed the Quaffle out of the air first and began to dash towards her and the hoops. Liliana licked her lips but as it turned out she would have to wait a little bit longer to defend Pecari’s honor as Adam had pulled up alongside Carey. A few Bludger dodges later and a Quaffle pass, the older Wolseithcrafte, Francesca, had the Quaffle and just as she raised her arm to pass it, Adam took it! Liliana cheered for her fellow Brit and gave Theodore Wolseithcrafte in the opposing hoops a bit of a cheeky salute. She supposed she was kind of showing off that their team had intercepted a pass but she meant it in good fun and besides Theodore was in her classes so she was sure he had realized she liked to joke around-- teasing Atlas was a favorite activity of hers after all.
While the Chasers battled over the Quaffle, nearing the Aladren end of the pitch, Liliana licked her lips again. They were beginning to get rather dry and she hoped that the Snitch would be released soon. The Aladren Seeker was only a first year and Annabelle had a lot more experience playing Sonora Quidditch. She had more experience playing against Dill’s teammates than Dill had playing with them so Liliana hoped this would give them the advantage. Besides, the sooner the Snitch was released, the sooner Annabelle or Dill would catch it, the sooner she could get out of the blasted heat and drink lemonade to her heart’s content.
*OOC: Permission to use Atlas as such granted by his author.
10
<font color="tan">Liliana Bannister</font>
I just can't wait for a lemonade.
274
<font color="tan">Liliana Bannister</font>
0
5
<font color='blue'>Theodore W, Keeper</font>
September 27, 2014 4:37 AM
Must we keep on? by <font color='blue'>Theodore W, Keeper</font>
There were many things that Theodore appreciated in life; freshly starched shirts, neatly brushed hair, the smell of old books, well played games of chess, and chicken soup were amongst them. Almost all of these were seriously incompatible with scorchingly hot days. Not that most of them went well with Quidditch playing in any conditions – the game was a suspension of normality, hence it being acceptable to do things like hit metal balls at other members of society, or work co-operatively with Muggleborns. Nonetheless, he frowned at the heat. It was going to make what was normally a pleasingly strenuous couple of hours into hell and misery.He followed Jay's advice to get hydrated before the match even though his job was one of the least physical. It was the Beaters who would suffer most. The Chasers worked hard but moved about enough to benefit from the resulting breezes. He and the Seeker could slow it down to rest or speed it up to get refreshed as they chose for the majority of the time, although he was sure it would only be minutes in before he was craving something cooling.
As the whistle blew, he sped off towards his goal, feeling the beads of sweat that had been forming displaced and brushed away by the wind that was now whipping refreshingly over him. It was a shame he had to stop; pulling up to the goal, the full force of the sun hit him anew. As he tried to monitor the progress of the game he also realised how much the bright glare of the sun was going to affect him. He pushed his goggles down his nose but they were more to keep wind and rain from blurring his vision so did little to shield from the glare, merely causing an uncomfortable line of sweat to form on the bridge of his nose where they rested. He pushed them up again.
The Quaffle was sent flying back and forth and he looped the goals in a low state of anticipation. He'd learnt not to be on edge every time an opponent intercepted. If you did that, you spent the whole match in fight or flight mode, ready to jump at something that never came to pass. It was a way to burn yourself out way too fast in a game, and with the added exhaustion that came with the heat, it was the last thing he needed today. He did, however, need to keep track of the situation. Squinting through the brightness, however, was starting to give him a headache. He liked Quidditch well enough but he didn't love it with a die hard passion that knew not the idea of surrender. He thought he would be perfectly willing to let one of the substitutes take this one whilst he relaxed in the shade with a lemonade. However, he knew that wasn't really an option... He couldn't swap out without a valid reason without causing a lot upset and resentment. There was also the very real possibility that the substitutes would be needed for situations and positions far more urgent than his... He would just have to stick it out and hope for a short match. Given that neither Seeker had played in that position before, that mostly meant hoping the Snitch had a devil-may-care streak about it and took to flaunting itself and fluttering in plain sight. He wasn't sure whether that was even possible as he was quite sure that Snitches were supposed to be more or less neutral and devoid of personality in order to keep matches fair and equal. However, he swore that some spent more time fluttering near the players than others – he caught sight of them very occasionally from his vantage point – whilst others seemed to spend several hours skulking in a little nook somewhere in the stands, not being seen until they made a final dash for it and got caught.
He ran his hand over his brow to clear the sweat and took a couple of fast paced loops to try to refresh himself, missing Liliana's victorious flourish as her team took possession of the ball again. He slowed, finding the laps had had only limited effectiveness and he still felt irritatingly muzzy-headed.
13
<font color='blue'>Theodore W, Keeper</font>
Must we keep on?
270
<font color='blue'>Theodore W, Keeper</font>
0
5
<font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>
September 29, 2014 12:13 AM<font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by:
Age in Post: 13
I just can't wait for this to be over. by <font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>
The Bludger didn’t hit the Pierce girl, but it did make her do a dance – and, more importantly, opened the field back up so Aladren could pass, Anthony to Francesca. He smiled thinly, but only for a moment; he didn’t have as much time to gloat as he might have liked because Princeton got the Bludger back, making Leo run after it to defend his Chasers while a brown blur stole the Quaffle when Francesca tried to make another pass in her turn.He hit the Bludger, but more in frustration than with good aim, and Spencer was flying lower than its trajectory. Leo struggled for breath, the air drying out his throat, as he then had to speed toward the Bludger again, nearly getting hit in the nose himself for his trouble, which he thought would just be a fantastic addition to his day….
Wearily, he swung at the Bludger again as Spencer rose toward one of the girls, not really caring which of them he hit, if he broke one of their brooms, or if he just made their maneuver a little more difficult. Hitting something just sounded appealing at the moment, even if it resulted in a time-out so a new player could be put in and Pecari was given the Quaffle afterward. Throwing them off their game would give Aladren a chance to get themselves together, figure out what they were doing wrong enough for the Pecaris to be on top of them like this. Spencer and Miss Pierce were good fliers, but so were Anthony and Francesca – they needed to regroup, get a drink, set Umland on the other first year somewhere well away from the main action just to get them both out of the way so the real players could get on with it, and then quit letting Adam Spencer get close enough to them to do stuff with the Quaffle.
Or, Leo supposed, he could take care of his own house and just split the guy's head open already, but Spencer was a better flier than he was and half the fun of being a Beater, Seeker, or Keeper was being able to criticize the play of the Chasers. If he could hit Spencer, he would, but he was amenable to the Chasers out-maneuvering him, too.
0
<font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>
I just can't wait for this to be over.
269
<font color="blue">Leonidas Bennett, Beater</font>
0
5
<font color='tan'>Atlas Primred, Beater</font>
September 30, 2014 5:28 AM
Lets see just how well protected by <font color='tan'>Atlas Primred, Beater</font>
Atlas hadn’t slept much that night, as his mind had been restless with the arrival of his first Quidditch game at Sonora. Although he had been apart of the team the past two years, now that he wasn’t a reserve it was different; there was more pressure, more excitement, and more fun to be expected. After attaching the last bits of his gear he bounded out of the room, butterflies of excitement filling his chest. Once Liliana arrived in the Commons, he smiled and greeted her, complementing her hair. He had always wondered how she managed to create hairstyles that stayed perfectly in tact no matter how long or rough the game was. Katie had been writing letters to him recently, complaining about the lack of bun style in her ballet classes, and Atlas figured that Liliana might be a good resource to tap. He had always meant to ask her about it after practice, but managed to forget each day without fail.As they exited the common room, he noticed the clear blue sky. The Pecari grinned, happy he wouldn’t be bothered by rain soaked underwear like past games. However he may have spoken too soon, for the second he left the shade of the threshold, the heat of the summer sun hit him like a bag of bricks. Within the short walk out of the gardens he had already managed to wet his clothing with sweat. It was on days like this that he wished his hair were a lighter color like his sister’s. Although his hair wasn’t black like most other Asians, its auburn hue was enough to catch the rays of the sun, making him feel warmer than usual. Atlas grimaced as he wiped some sweat from his forehead, wondering if the onset of his least favorite type of weather was a bad omen for the coming game.
Although Atlas wasn’t usually a very talkative boy, especially in hot weather, he was so excited for the game he didn’t even notice that he had been chatting non-stop on the way to the Quiddtich Pitch. “…And I really hope I get in some good shots today. I mean I don’t want to hurt anyone, but as long as someone is caught off guard I’ll feel pretty good,” he continued as the pair neared the Pitch. Liliana, who was usually the chatty one of the two, hadn’t said much, causing Atlas to reevaluate their last several minutes of dialogue. He pursed his lips as they neared the rest of the group, realizing Liliana’s curt replies may have been due to him excluding her from the conversation. “Good luck today Liliana,” Atlas whispered hoping she wasn’t too angry with him. Any other day, he would have pestered Liliana until he figured out what was wrong, but today he had bigger responsibilities to the rest of the team.
After drinking enough water to quench his thirst, but hopefully not give him any cramps, he headed over to Rupert as the Pecari captain began his speech. Even though it was a fairly generic pep talk, Atlas gave the boy his full attention in an effort to get his head in the game. He was so busy concentrating that he jumped slightly at the sound of his own name. He had been given a job, a special job (in Atlas’ mind anyways). He glanced over to the Pierce twins, one of whom he would be defending, and gave them a quick smile. He still couldn’t tell them apart very well, but it was a lot less difficult now that they played different positions. He was actually really glad that Annabelle was the seeker this year for two reasons. The first was because she already had experience evading bludgers, which helped him to feel a little more confident about guarding her on his own. The second was because he would have felt completely intimidated and nervous if he had been charged to guard Jade. Although their past captain was an incredibly talented seeker, she scared Atlas like no other. She was the type of person that he really didn’t want to piss off, which he felt would have been inevitable if he had to spend the duration the a game protecting her.
Once the team had done their cheer and mounted their broomsticks, the whistle blew and the game began. At first Atlas started to fly to Annette thinking she was Annabelle, wondering all the while why a seeker was headed for the Quaffle. Thankfully he noticed after a moment that it was the wrong Ann, and made a beeline for the one he was supposed to be protecting. He wanted to get close enough to her to protect her, but far enough away so that he had a full range of motion to hit any passing bludger.
In only a matter of minutes the game was in full swing, he heard a crack of a bat and instinctually turned towards it, in the event an opponent had aimed it at Annabelle. Luckily it was just Rupert, however not a moment later Leonidas hit it towards Annette. Atlas wanted so badly to go in and help, but he had been given direct instructions from Rupert to guard this Ann. Reluctantly, he gripped his broom helplessly watching as Annette tried to shake the nasty bludger. Thankfully Rupert was there to help, sending the thing towards an Aladren chaser. If Annabelle had the same moves as Annette, he wouldn’t have anything to worry about.
Pecari was just starting to move the Quaffle toward the opposing end of the field, when he noticed the second bludger coming his way. Looking around frantically, he noticed two Aladren players flying not too far away. He had practiced his hits a lot, but he was a little wary he could hit it that far while still maintaining accuracy. He decided to push towards the bludger to meet it in the middle, and thus reduce the distance he would need to hit it. He didn’t want to get too far away from Annabelle though, as abandoning her would endanger the team’s key player. Atlas rationalized that going a little out of his way to hit the Aladren seeker wouldn’t be too bad if he kept a fairly good eye on where the two bludgers were.
His bat hit the bludger with a loud crack as he sent it flying to the smaller of the two Aladrens. Atlas had only really talked to Clark once that he could remember, and that was the day the purple clouds had appeared. Although because of the lack of games the previous year, he wasn’t too familiar with how good the 2nd year was. Then again seeing as it was his first game too, Atlas didn’t know if he was any good either, but he hoped that by the end of this game he would find out. Using the momentum of his swing to help turn himself around, he started back to Annabelle. Even though it was his first game, it didn’t take an Aladren to tell that the only person who would be accompanying a seeker would be another beater.
OOC: Permission to use Liliana as such granted by her author.
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<font color='tan'>Atlas Primred, Beater</font>
Lets see just how well protected
276
<font color='tan'>Atlas Primred, Beater</font>
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<font color=tan>Annabelle Pierce, Seeker</font>
September 30, 2014 10:32 AM
Being Belle Pierce by <font color=tan>Annabelle Pierce, Seeker</font>
Normally, Annabelle hated hot days. Well, in truth, she still hated them, but today was her first chance to play the position she had wanted from the start of her Sonora Quidditch Career but which had been too saturated with other older candidates who actually knew what they were doing for her to have enough confidence to even try for it. Today, she was playing Seeker.Like the first Bel Pierce had before her.
It was one of the very few similarities she allowed between herself and the sister who had been disowned before she was born. Whereas Derry Four had been created as a substitute for his missing brother by a mother who had doted upon Derry Three, Annabelle had been so named by a mother who wished nothing more than to obfuscate history into thinking the first Bel Pierce had never existed and to replace the embarrassing spawn with a Belle Pierce much more to her mother's liking.
Annabelle thought it would have been a much more difficult position to grow up in if she had not been born a twin. She had grown up far more 'Ann' than 'Belle' that way. It was one of the many things she was grateful to have Annette for.
Today, though, it was the sister she'd never met rather than the one she'd been with every day since birth that sat at the forefront of her thoughts. Belinda Pierce, Seeker.
It was one of the first things she had learned about her absent sister. Everyone who had ever talked about her to the twins had mentioned that. It was apparently one of her defining features. True, Belinda and Melinda had both begun in the position because they had been the youngest of their fourteen cousins (back before WAIL had existed and it was common for girls to play) and the older ones figured putting the babies in the seeker position would mean longer games before the parents made them come inside. Belinda, though, had kept at it into her school years when it actually had some prestige attached to it, and then kept at it through WAIL's inception which had made it disgraceful.
To be perfectly honest, Annabelle wasn't truly certain why she wanted to be Seeker so badly. It was, at least in part, because she had the same small build her sisters had, which made them physically ideal for the position. She was taller than the Aladren seeker, but that was only because he was twelve and she was sixteen. She suspected they might be the same height next year if the kid had even a small growth spurt before next September. Annabelle stood only five foot two in heels. She still had weight on him, too, but again, it was an advantage he would grow out of quickly. Even as skinny as the kid was, if she just had three more years at the school instead of two, she was sure she'd have the smaller mass between them by the time she graduated. Plus, her flying style was well suited for the quick twists and dives that seekers had to do. Annette could fly faster than she could, but Annabelle could change directions on a sickle: a useful skill when chasing something as unpredictable as a snitch.
So she was good at it, and that was always a solid reason to do something, but sometimes she wondered if maybe it wasn't at least in part a small rebellion at the expectation to be so very different from Belinda. Or perhaps she was following her mother's directive after all and trying to wipe the memory of her sister's existence by taking over her position of Seeker for herself.
Or maybe she was just trying to continue her campaign to differentiate herself from Annette.
It could be any or all of them.
But in any case, she was Seeker now, and not even the heat could dampen her spirits from that.
She drank up readily at the instruction to do so, and cast a light cooling charm on herself before mounting her broom and preparing to take off. At the whistle, she had to remind herself to not go after the Quaffle, but once she was above the Chasers, she didn't feel any desire to return to her old position. She'd liked playing with Annette well enough, but that scene had always been a bit too chaotic for her to really shine. She liked having a few less variables to keep track of.
Speaking of . . . she glanced over to the Aladren kid, but he seemed to be ignoring her for the time being. He seemed a decent flyer, but his broom was an older model. She though she could probably outrun him if need be. Annabelle opted to parallel his flight pattern, keeping close enough that she stood a chance of outrunning him if he saw the snitch first, but just far enough away to give her a small head start if she did. His beater was flying nearby, too, which made it dangerous to fly too far away from the other seeker if a bludger came into their area.
Which it did right then, heading toward Dill, so Annabelle quickly reversed direction, heading away from the Aladrens and toward her own Beater, giving Atlas a small salute, glad of his presence nearby, and tried to get him between her and Aladrens he'd just sent a bludger toward.
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<font color=tan>Annabelle Pierce, Seeker</font>
Being Belle Pierce
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<font color=tan>Annabelle Pierce, Seeker</font>
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5
<font color=tan>Rupert Princeton, Beater</font>
September 30, 2014 6:03 PM
Enjoy it while it lasts. by <font color=tan>Rupert Princeton, Beater</font>
The sun was beating down fiercely and Rupert was certainly not immune to it. No matter how much he had practised, there was no way he could ever prepare fully for the weather. He simply had to adjust and learn to play his best despite the obstacles rain, snow or heat posed.Rain was Rup's favourite weather to play in. It was, in his opinion, one of the most challenging elements, the torrential downpours especially. The heat, however, posed a different challenge. Whilst Rupert could see the bludgers perfectly and his bat was less likely to slip against the iron balls, his endurance was pushed to the limit. Time seemed to be passing slowly and already Rupert felt as though he were swimming in his own sweat. He was glad for his beater's glove; his own sweaty hand would have been unsuitable in batting properly. He only had one job here and that was to take care of his Chasers and keep the rest of his team motivated.
"Let's go Pecari!" he shouted as he followed the Chasers. He needed to keep his own energy and morale up if he was going to make it through. The bludger he'd hit towards an Aladren was deflected, but his opposing Beater did not look happy. Rupert thought briefly of hitting the bludger straight at Bennett to render him useless for the rest of the match, but he fought against himself and went with his better judgement.
The bludger didn't look like it had been aimed at anyone in particular, and Adam moved out of harm's way without realising it. Rup had flew in quickly to deflect the bludger. He didn't hit it hard, but far enough that it wouldn't turn and begin chasing one of his Chasers. He was going to put some of his best work in this whilst he still had the energy for it.
Rup only had a couple of seconds before the bludger would turn on him, and he took the opportunity to choose his target. He needed to aim well in order to keep the bludger from following the wrong Chaser, but his years of practise and experience would come in handy. Rupert whacked a solid ball towards an Aladren Chaser, enough power behind it that the iron ball went flying and in a close enough proximity that Bennett would need to really leap for it even if he was close by. Rupert might not be the best Beater by professional standards, but at Sonora he thought he was getting rather good. Since he had become Assistant Captain, his studies had fallen behind a bit and Quidditch had taken the forefront. He wouldn't need his studies nearly as much as he would his body and technique if he was going to pursue Quidditch professionally.
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<font color=tan>Rupert Princeton, Beater</font>
Enjoy it while it lasts.
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<font color=tan>Rupert Princeton, Beater</font>
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<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
October 02, 2014 9:29 PM<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Nathan
Age in Post: 12
Birthday: Who knows? But he celebrates it in November
Yes, let us see! by <font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
Clark set his pattern, a sort of crosshatch across the pitch, some twenty feet above where the Chasers were messing around. He could see them when he looked down but he didn't pay them much attention except to be mildly annoyed that they were providing cover to a snitch that might potentially be below them. When he reached the edge of the pitch he metaphorically reflected off of it, like a ray of light hitting a mirror. He hadn't crossed his own path again yet when he noticed the Pierce Seeker moving toward him then moving away again before she actually made it over to him.He puzzled over that for a moment but the answer became obvious when a wooden bat loudly clashed against a metal ball and a quick glance toward Clark's Captain proved it wasn't Jay who did it.
He wasn't exactly sure where the Pecari beater was - the sound had given some indication, of course, but there wasn't time to sit there like a lump and look around for the guy. There was a bludger coming at him. Bludgers were a semi-domesticated beast genetically engineered by the snitches (they came from the same planet, of course) to be vicious, blood-thirsty monsters. Or perhaps a better analogy would be the way humans had bred and trained hunting dogs to help them track down and kill wild boars and other creatures. In any case, bludgers were bred specifically for harming Quidditch players here on Earth.
So, knowing the vague direction it was coming from and where Jay was, Clark dropped the nose of his broom, swinging it around, and dove to fly under the Aladren captain. It messed up the seeking pattern, obviously, but Clark's life and limbs were at stake here as he ran away from his first bludger attack ever, so he thought it was an acceptable sacrifice.
He just hoped nobody farther away than Jay could hear him shrieking in terror.
And it was kind of a good thing, really, that it was so hot. Everybody was going to stink so badly of sweat, a tiny little bladder leak wasn't going to be too noticeable.
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<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
Yes, let us see!
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<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
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<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
October 02, 2014 10:27 PM
I try. by <font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
That a Bludger would come their way sooner or later had, to Jay, been a given. The Pecari Beater accompanying Miss Pierce was the little one, something which confused him enough that he’d tried to figure out what sort of game Princeton might be playing for a long moment, but if he was any Beater at all, he knew to take out the opposing Seeker the first chance he got. That Clark would not be happy about that was also something Jay had anticipated. It only made sense; no one except his possibly-masochistic cousin actually seemed to like Bludgers coming at them, and Jay didn’t honestly think that even Arnold actually liked the pain, he just liked how the game became more challenging and his reputation greater when he played through it. Neither of those things surprised Jay at all.Clark shrieking like a banshee as he fled the Bludger, though, was a little unexpected. He did not know what to think about that, except to hope that no one else could hear it. If the school thought Aladren’s Seeker didn’t have the nerve for the game….
Not that it really mattered to him, of course, he reminded himself as he flew to intercept the Bludger. He was gone at the end of the year. But…well, then Anthony would have to deal with it, it was kind of the family legacy, now, almost – as much as extra sons like him and Arnold could hope for, really, so he’d really rather they….
He shook his head and then hit the Bludger away from Clark’s path, back in Miss Pierce’s general direction, then followed to whack it again to keep the Pecari Beater busy while he dove and flew as fast as he could after Clark, holding onto his broom for dear life with one hand and his bat with the other to get where he could again get between Clark and anything which threatened him before the Pecari Beaters got a chance to attack him again.
"It's all right," he called, hoping to calm the second year down. Terror didn't usually help much with spotting, chasing, and grabbing the Snitch. "Find the Snitch!"
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<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
I try.
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<font color="blue">Jay Carey, Beater</font>
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<font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>
October 03, 2014 4:27 PM<font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 11
Birthday: September 23rd
Should be over soon.... by <font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>
John realized almost at once that it had nothing to do with him – the word Pecari was a pretty good hint – but his head turned when he heard someone shouting and then looked back around to realize he had started flying off-course while looking to see who had shouted. His heart gave an extra-hard thud in alarm, even though he realized that the emotion made no sense as long as the broom wasn’t pointing toward the ground and moving faster than he could correct for, and he exhaled in frustration as he pulled it back around toward the action of the game, his fingers slipping a little along the handle of the broom. His robe felt like a damp bedspread thrown over his shoulders in a sauna, and it irritated him every time he felt the sleeves or hem brush against his arms and legs as he moved.As he tried to look less lost and frustrated than he felt, he remembered reading about how jousts had evolved from tournaments that were basically battles in miniature, a way for knights to make money when there wasn’t currently a war on. He guessed this was kind of like that: they were playing for House points and to entertain the others. The wooden stands and House banners gave the Pitch something of the right look, too, and the sudden image of Julian crowned and robed like a queen in a pavilion, watching the fireworks and listening to someone sing a song about some glorious game of yore, popped into his head, making him want to laugh and bite his lip to try to stop because laughing made it harder to hang onto the broom and gripping it more tightly messed up his steering. The biggest problem with the mental image was that he didn't have one of those clubs; he found himself wondering if, if he did this again next year, he might manage to steal the captain's.
Still, he was here in this position now either way, for better or for worse. He hoped, devoutly, that his sister and everyone else whose name he knew other than the rest of the team had decided to stay indoors, out of the sun –
He spotted the Quaffle and went toward its position again. Unfortunately, in his relief at seeing the ball, and sudden wild impulse to try to actually lay hands on it the next time it moved from one player to another, he failed to observe something else moving toward his position. The Bludger slammed into his shoulder, at just the angle to put a nasty bruise on the back of his arm as well, sending him lurching forward and then sideways, nearly falling off the broom. Only having both hands on the broom saved him, and he rolled over in the air, yelling in a none-too-dignified combination of terror and surprise before coming upright again, shaking, hurting, white-faced, and focused, enough that he was barely aware of his extraneous thoughts for once, on one thing: that not happening again.
Finding the Beater, or at least what he thought and hoped was the only Beater in the area who would aim for him on purpose, he flew away from him, looking for a place to loop around so he could put the enemy’s people between the two of them. Getting an opponent too tangled up in his own pieces to move effectively against him was as good a way to win as any.
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<font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>
Should be over soon....
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<font color="blue">John Umland, Chaser</font>
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<font color="tan">Atlas Primred, Beater</font>
October 04, 2014 1:08 AM
So do I. by <font color="tan">Atlas Primred, Beater</font>
Atlas heard what he thought was a faint shriek from behind him. However, he couldn’t be sure if the cry was real, because the wind was making a sound buffer as it whipped past his ears. He wanted so badly to look back behind himself, just one glance to see if he had actually managed to hit his target, but he couldn’t take the risk. If he turned his head, even if just a miniscule amount, there was a chance that his broom would swerve off from its straight path, for at the speed that Atlas was going a small turn could propel him in the wrong direction if he wasn’t careful.However, the feeling of vulnerability was tearing down his resolve. There was always the chance that his shot had missed the target completely and was on its way back right now to nail Atlas in the spine. He hoped that with a game like Quidditch wizard healers would have perfected all kinds of healing techniques. However, since Atlas had never gotten hurt to the point of needing Medic Eir’s care, he wasn’t sure just how advanced or primitive the healing magic was- and he didn’t want to find out today either. Luckily he had flown between Annabelle and the bludger just as the bludger met the bat of the Aladren player. This was expected, an Aladren Beater wouldn’t be so horrible as to let his Seeker get taken out so soon into the game. What he didn’t expect was the sound of a second crack coming from behind him. Had Rupert intervened before a ping-pong bludger game could start, or was it the acoustics of the Pitch mixed with the sweltering sun playing tricks on the young boy’s ears?
A shiver was sent up Atlas’ spine as he discovered that neither assumption was correct, and the bludger was flying full force at Annabelle. If Atlas didn’t move quick he wouldn’t be able to defend his Seeker. Leaning into his broom in the hopes he would go as fast as possible, he met the bludger in the middle, swinging his arm around to meet the ball with his bat. Unlike his last shot, he wasn’t able to position himself nicely before hitting the bludger. During practice, he had found that the sweet spot on his bat was the upper middle, right about the place it was the fattest. If he was stationary, and had gotten the shoulder rotation in that he had practiced, it would have headed back towards the Aladren Beater, or better yet the Aladren Seeker. However in his rush to protect Annabelle, the last thing he had been thinking about was the positioning of his bat or the accompanying rotation. Instead, he had hit it with the lower half of his bat where his fingers laid unprotected, except by his gloves, to the blunt force of the bludger. He felt a sting of pain as he swung the ball away, not caring where he aimed it so long as it was Anywhere But Here. The bludger flew off in a lonely direction away from the bustle of the game. It was a horrible shot, he should have at least tried to aim it, but as long as it wasn’t near him or his teammates it wasn’t a total failure.
Against his will, he found himself looking down to the goals at Liliana. He wasn’t sure why, he had more than enough things running though his mind at the moment such as the pounding pain coming from his fingers, but something in him needed to know what she had thought of the play-- or if she had even seen what might have been his worst blunder yet.
He needed to know. He needed to know if she had seen it because if she had then he would have to shrug it off like a war hero, tough, unaffected by such trivial things as pain. If she hadn’t seen it, and how he hoped she hadn’t seen it-- well then, he could coddle his hand for a moment or two before getting back in the game.
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<font color="tan">Atlas Primred, Beater</font>
So do I.
276
<font color="tan">Atlas Primred, Beater</font>
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5
<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
October 05, 2014 1:17 PM<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
AlumnusHouse: Aladren
Written by: Nathan
Age in Post: 12
Birthday: Who knows? But he celebrates it in November
I can try, too! by <font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
When he heard the whack of Jay's bat on the bludger, he slowed down, and when he heard the second one, he glanced back in concern, but it was just Jay again, hitting it off toward the Pecari Seeker. He stopped moving for a second, taking a deep breath to recenter himself, and felt pleased his first encounter with a bludger had gone so well.He was mildly embarrassed that he had screamed like he had, but he'd just have to show Captain Jay that he could recover quickly and grab the snitch and - whoa. There it was.
Clark was moving before it entirely registered that the golden snitch was right there, only about fifty feet away. Dad had said they usually showed up when you weren't entirely ready for them, and he wasn't quite, but he was way better off than Annabelle who was still dealing with the bludger Jay had sent at her.
Clark flew. He flew as straight and as fast as his school broom could carry him and the snitch darted, so he changed direction, and a bludger on bat sound said Atlas had gotten Annabelle safe, but there was a snitch and Clark wasn't going to be distracted from its chase. Jay had proven he could take care of Clark and he wasn't going to turn around to see if it was coming for him for sure. He could pretend it wasn't if he didn't look.
Still, fear that it might be on his tail gave his broom some extra speed as he hurtled toward the snitch. His first grab at it missed as his sweaty fingers slide over the little golden ball. His broom swung around, and he lifted both hands off of its wooden grip and closed them around the snitch. He felt the wings flutter against his palms as they captured it between them.
Only then did he glance behind him to check where the bludger was, and seeing it nowhere nearby, he allowed himself a huge grin, slowed down his broom, and closed one set of fingers around the snitch to hold it aloft to show off his victory. "I got it!" he called out, though he wasn't sure if anyone but Jay and possibly Annabelle was close enough to hear it. Those were the two who most needed to know anyway.
His other hand grabbed at his broom again, and directed it down toward the ground. This game was over and some more water, a shower, and returning to the cool inside of the school was definitely in order, as soon as possible.
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<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
I can try, too!
277
<font color=blue>Clark Dill, Seeker</font>
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5
Aladren wins! 150 - 0 (nm) by Coach Olivers
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Coach Olivers
Aladren wins! 150 - 0 (nm)
0
Coach Olivers
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5