Coach Grase
July 09, 2016 2:09 AM
Quidditch Game 2: Pecari vs. Teppenpaw by Coach Grase
Midterm had been good for Juliet. To the disagreement of her siblings (and Sophie), she had gone off her pain medication the first day of break. Much to everyone’s surprise, Juliet’s shoulder remained quiet, and had regained almost full range of motion. As excited as she was, however, she listened to the advice of her slightly paranoid family and waited a week to make sure everything had healed properly before picking up a bat, or more importantly, reporting the good news back to her coach. Juliet had decided that day was as good as any to send her brown barn owl, bearing the letter of good health from her physician, soaring off into the morning sky from the window in her quarters.Juliet could hardly contain her glee as she put on her gold uniform shirt; the green dragon emblazoned upon her chest seemed to smile up at her. She grinned back at him, enjoying how well the snug razorback shirt still fit her. Not wanting to draw too much attention away from the student’s own uniforms at the game, Juliet zipped a simple black hoodie up her shoulders. She then confidently strode from her room down to the pitch, leading her own one man parade.
Being so wrapped up in her excitement, Juliet didn’t notice how cold it actually was out until she’d reached the pitch and retrieved the case the housed the game balls. The natural temperature outside had to be below freezing. Having only a vague idea of how the weather charm over the pitch functioned, Juliet opted to wing it, as every degree warmer she could get would certainly be better than nothing. After a few botched attempts, she got the temperature to rise up to what she could only assume was around forty degrees fahrenheit. The cold from the previous game paled in comparison to today’s match.
Watching the players assemble in two clumps, one brown, one yellow, Juliet felt a pang of guilt. While they it was certainly important for them to get accustomed to playing in all kinds of weather, especially if any of them wanted to go pro, she still wished she could have done more to adjust the temperature. If they all make it out of today without catching a cold, it will be some kinda miracle. Juliet pushed the cold out of her mind and channeled her excitement again, casting the sonorus charm on herself and announcing the day’s teams to what little spectators had arrived. The loudness of her voice was overshadowed by the annoyingly chipper tone it contained, surprising her. Juliet could have sworn she sounded just like her twin sister.
“Alright kids,” she said, readjusting her voice back to its regular volume. “You all know how this works. Keep it fair, be safe, and have fun.” After the players all got into position, she released the bludgers and the snitch from their bindings, and prepared to toss the quaffle up after them. Soon enough, that’ll be me, Juliet thought. She grinned widely, then blew the whistle between her teeth and chucked the quaffle into the air with significantly more oomph than she had planned.
Subthreads: Here we go! by <font color="yellow">Jake Manger, Seeker</font> with <font color="tan">Sammy Meeks, Beater</font>, <font color="yellow">Tobi Reinhardt, Beater</font>, <font color='tan'>Jamie Park, Seeker</font>
"Don't worry, I've arrived." by <font color='tan'>Joella Curtis</font> with <font color="yellow">Joseph Umland, Chaser</font>, <font color="yellow">Gabe Valenti, Chaser</font>, <font color=tan>Ben Pierce, Chaser</font>, <font color='tan'>Ingrid W, Chaser</font>
Nailed it! (Snitch capture) by Jamie Park with Coach Grase
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Coach Grase
Quidditch Game 2: Pecari vs. Teppenpaw
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Coach Grase
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<font color='tan'>Joella Curtis</font>
July 13, 2016 11:11 AM
"Don't worry, I've arrived." by <font color='tan'>Joella Curtis</font>
Joella had enjoyed (the majority of) her fourth year at Sonora but something had definitely been missing. Despite the challenges being a great deal of fun, the cancellation of Quidditch matches for that whole term had not sat well with Joella and she knew she wasn’t alone in this. Team practice had continued but now she was finally able to play under her title of Assistant Captain.So far this term, the fifteen year old had kept herself busy and was involved in a number of things that had the potential to distract her from her Quidditch but fortunately she’d managed to stay focused in spite of this. In the back of her mind, Joella was aware that she should be putting more consideration into the CATS exams that she would face at the end of the year but ultimately it was Quidditch that was most important to her and that was the route she had long dreamed of following.
Joella was evidently eager to get back into playing matches and had been working very hard this year to make sure she would perform her very best when Pecari’s first game finally arrived. Liliana had also worked hard to make sure the whole team were ready and that they were in good physical condition. This didn’t really help Joella to solve her own dilemma as she would have liked to observe which players took their own initiatives to organise themselves outside of practices. However, the strict requests were a good move on Liliana’s part to ensure that their enthusiastic team were at optimal performance level for their match.
The fifth year knew the importance of this match as they needed to win in order to get through into the final match, where they would then get the chance to play against Aladren again and get a shot at winning the Cup for the first time since before Joella had started at Sonora. Neither were something she wanted to miss out on. Winning would be great and winning against the team’s archrivals sounded even better.
Joella had thought the conditions for the Aladren-Crotalus match before the midterm break had been cold enough, what with the wind they’d endured as well, but that certainly didn’t compare to the freezing temperatures today. The Pecari always checked the weather before getting fully dressed in her Quidditch uniform so made sure to add a thin base layer under her clothes which provided extra insulation.
On arrival at the pitch, Joella warmed up with the rest of the team, making sure to put extra effort into this preparation stage because it took far longer than usual to feel properly “warm”. As she took her place alongside her teammates, broom in hand, when it was time for the game to start, and watched Liliana shake hands with Liac Reinhardt, she couldn’t help thinking about how that would be her next year. It was strange to think how far she’d come in the past four and a half years. Joella had always been talented and picked up Quidditch as a serious hobby from quite a young age, but when she’d started out in first year she’d lacked the tactical knowledge and experience of playing actual matches (Q-Ball games were definitely not the same thing) which meant she’d relied a lot on her older teammates for advice and instruction. Now here she was, one of the strongest players on the team and in a position to help others and give them direction. It was a nice feeling, like she was giving back all that she’d received.
The new Quidditch Coach said a few words and then the whistle sounded and Joella instantly pushed off from the ground, her eyes locked on the Quaffle. Years of practise meant she was very quick off the mark, but so could everyone else be so she had to fly fast to gain that initial advantage for her team. She grabbed the Quaffle first and sped off away from the rest of players who could knock it from her grip. She flew a good distance into the Teppenpaw half of the pitch to allow her fellow Chasers to get themselves some space away from the Prairie Dogs so that they could receive a pass with potential for interception reduced.
When she felt it the right time, Joella passed the Quaffle to one of her teammates who looked ready to receive. She threw hard enough that it had plenty of power to make the distance between her and the brown-clad player and was also accurate so that the recipient shouldn’t have to slow their flying a great deal in order to catch it.
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<font color='tan'>Joella Curtis</font>
"Don't worry, I've arrived."
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<font color='tan'>Joella Curtis</font>
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<font color="yellow">Joseph Umland, Chaser</font>
July 13, 2016 11:42 PM
Me, too! by <font color="yellow">Joseph Umland, Chaser</font>
Joe wanted to think he was just shivering with cold as he got up and, trying to chat normally and confidently with Gabe, got ready for the Quidditch match, but he was pretty sure that at least a few of the rattles his teeth underwent as he cleaned them and looked for an extra pair of socks and such had something to do with nerves. The hands on his watch seemed to have something wrong with them, now creeping along as though the gears had been filled with molasses and now moving much too fast. He kept kind of wanting to hit something, or dance, or yell, or just do something other than carry on as though he wasn’t nervous at all, but refrained. There was nothing wrong, the more modern books he’d read asserted, with being afraid, but even most of them didn’t go so far as to imply it was okay to act afraid.John had lent him his broom (”don’t get too used to it, though, because I’m going to be the one riding it when we play you guys in the spring”; this, Joe understood, had meant something like what most people would use phrases like ‘good luck’ or ‘I believe you can do it’ to express) a week earlier to practice and play the game on, so he was a bit better equipped for the first match than he had expected to be. John’s broom, secondhand when his brother had gotten it for his last birthday, was hardly as nice as Joe’s roommate’s broom, among others, even so, but he thought it was at least a bit faster than the school brooms and felt a bit better with it. His fingers tapped nervously against the handle even so, though, when he didn’t pay attention to them, though he hoped that looked like impatience to get to the game and get in the air to anyone who noticed it.
Calm down, he told himself as he listened to the pre-game speech. It’s not life or death. That was what his mom, who didn’t fundamentally get this kind of thing, would say. Dad and Julian would have understood, though. If they won today, the eight members of the team would be heroes, at least until the championships. If they didn’t…well, honestly, Joe didn’t think much would change, but that wasn’t as consoling as it might have been when he considered the part where they could be temporary heroes instead. He really, really wanted them to be temporary heroes, so he tried to focus on the fact that he’d never heard anyone really have a good word for the Pecari Seeker even though the Seekers weren’t really his problem.
The Chasers, on the other hand…had Joella Curtis always been that tall? He couldn’t remember.
The leaders shook hands, the brooms were mounted, and the whistle blew. Joe kicked off hard, the cold running over his legs like water from a faucet as he moved his feet from the empty air to the stirrups of the broom after takeoff. He looked for the Quaffle amid the flurry of too-quick, too-large bodies all around him and saw the dot of red (he could have lived, he thought, had it been a few shades brighter, but since they weren’t playing Crotalus, he guessed he could live with it being the more subdued shade of red it was, too) and saw it moving rapidly away from him, along with a brown robe.
It hadn’t been unbearably cold on the ground – indeed, Joe thought it had been warmer on the Pitch than it had been outside it, though he guessed that could have just been something to do with nerves, too, like how he’d felt too hot when he’d been in a church production when he was younger – but up here, the cool air stung his face as he sped after Joella. She was, he noticed with a little alarm, going pretty deep into Teppenpaw territory; he needed to watch out for Beaters if he tried anything, as she had to look like a pretty awesome target to them right about now and Joe would rather not have his first game remembered for a friendly fire incident. He dropped lower in the air, watching, trying to keep his broom going steady while figuring out everyone else’s positions even though he knew that if he could see the Beaters, she probably could, too, and that it was probably actually therefore in Teppenpaw’s best interests that he couldn’t see them right now….
He saw she was going to pass and, barely thinking, replicated what he’d done in try-outs, putting on a burst of speed and reaching out to knock the ball off its trajectory from his slightly lower position. While surreptitiously elbowing them both in the ribs very hard in such a situation might have its benefits, he would rather not get crushed between the Pecaris. As the ball fell, he dove after it, but someone else got to it first….
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<font color="yellow">Joseph Umland, Chaser</font>
Me, too!
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<font color="yellow">Joseph Umland, Chaser</font>
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<font color="yellow">Gabe Valenti, Chaser</font>
July 14, 2016 9:30 AM
The cold doesn't bother me anyway by <font color="yellow">Gabe Valenti, Chaser</font>
”Meet the Tepps, meet the Tepps, head on down and greet the Tepps.”Gabriel Valenti was filled with excitement as he woke up to Game Day, theme song of his favorite baseball team, the Mets, temporarily altered in his brain to fit the situation. Gabe loved game days, whether they were his games or the games of his older, also athletic siblings. He’d missed Mattie’s last football game, as the season had ended before Gabe got home for Christmas, as well as Emma’s soccer playoffs. So he hadn’t really had a game day for either of his siblings since Emma’s baseball tournament in the summer, and hadn’t been home the day he was going to play an organized sport in well, years. The International Statute of Secrecy had a weird rule about wizards not playing non-magical sports, which Gabe had thought was pretty lame, and had resulted in him not playing in an organized league in almost two years. But that was all about to change. It had been fun to get to see his cousin win in the last Quidditch game, but she didn’t share in the traditions of his immediate family. Finally, it was Gabe’s turn.
Too excited to rest, the twelve year-old’s body had decided to ignore the norms of sleep schedules as he darted down to the Quidditch Pitch very early in the morning. The weather was unpredictable here at Sonora, and he wanted to have a good idea of what he was getting himself into. The boy smiled as he felt the crisp air cut across his cheeks. While it was pretty cool and all how Sonora could basically ignore all the rules of weather patterns and just not have a winter if it wanted to, it would have been pretty weird if they had had a heat wave or something in the middle of winter. The weather today, however was similar to the winter weather he had always known. He was feeling nostalgic as he ran a lap around the Pitch. It was cold, almost as cold as ideal skiing weather, which would have been below freezing. He’d skied for hours in weather much colder than this, and his mind immediately swirled with the thought of being able to ski through the air. That would have been awesome.
He stopped and chatted quickly with a prairie elf before darting back up to his room. The elves seemed to be in charge of the food around here, so since year one, Gabe had made a point of befriending them. Before long, he was back in his dorm room, getting ready with his roommate for the big day.
“It’s gonna be awesome!” he exclaimed to Joe, exuding positivity as he dug for clothing from his drawer. He’d decided that his clothing strategy for Quidditch would be similar to his strategy for skiing, putting on a base layer of pants and a long sleeve shirt. Mom had gotten him a canary yellow quarter-zip fleece for Christmas, and he gladly wore it now. While his family didn’t totally understand the house system, they certainly understood team spirit. He put on a pair of maroon wool socks before pulling over a pair of gray trekking pants, careful to tuck his layers one over the other so that no cool air could make its way in. He was glad Mom wasn’t here, she would have gushed about it. Throwing his flying gloves, goggles, and other flying gear in a drawstring bag, he grabbed his racing broom and ran downstairs to Cascade Hall.
His cousin was there, of course, waiting tentatively at the Teppenpaw table when he approached. Although she preferred to do game days on her own, she had accepted his request to have breakfast with him that morning. The game was early in the day, so he didn’t eat the full traditional game day breakfast, just a bowl of oatmeal with some fruit in it, and scrambled eggs. He guzzled down water as he babbled on about Quidditch and sports to his cousin. He was so excited it was finally here!
After family breakfast, he said his goodbyes to his little cousin before heading down to the locker room, bag still on his back and broom in hand. The game was almost here! He did some stretches, chatting cheerily with his teammates and sharing words of encouragement as everyone got ready. He still had some time before the game, so he examined his racing broom, polishing any scratches and clipping away at any stray bristles. He’d flown practically every day since starting here at Sonora, but today was the day that he needed all of his equipment to be in tip-top shape.
The chubby twelve year-old put on the rest of his uniform when he thought speeches were about to be made, adjusting his fingerless gloves and double-knotting his sneakers, and pulled a black gaiter over his throat. He put his ski goggles on top of his head before throwing on his flying robes. He opted to go without any warming charms - he was used to skiing in this sort of weather, and he practiced flying every day, rain or shine or whatever freak weather event Sonora decided to throw at him. Showtime!
He practically bounced onto the Pitch, carrying his broom on his shoulders as the captains shook hands. The ground felt hard under his sneakers - good for a quick kick off. The second year couldn’t wait to just get on with it already.
Pulling his ski goggles over his eyes, it was finally time to mount his broom. His knees bent in anticipation - the whistle was taking forever - his hands gripped at the handle of broom, until finally he heard the shriek of the whistle.
He burst off the ground with all his twelve year-old might, straight into the fray of yellow and brown robes. It was the sort of situation where it almost paid off to be smaller than many of the other flyers, darting around the mix of brooms and limbs. His stomach clenched as he saw the red of the ball being carried off by a blur of brown, and he flew down and around from the pack to try and get a better look.
Joe seemed to have locked in on Joella first, and Gabe leaned over, flattening himself out as much as he could as he shimmied his broom down the Pitch, several feet below the pair of chasers. His roommate had won Best Flyer in their year last year, and Gabe was excited for the whole school to see Joe’s skills. Teppenpaw had worked really hard, and Gabe was so excited for all of Sonora to see what their young house team could do on their own.
Joe got the ball free from the Pecaris, and it was time for action. Bursting forward, he snagged the ball out of the air with his right arm. Throwing his roommate a quick grin, he got a better grip on the ball, curving his wrist and tucking his whole arm around it as he kept it close to his chest, elbow tucked into his body. Playing backyard football with his big brother and his friends had come in handy for this moment.
He figured that Chasers might have also followed the Quaffle down, and so quick as he could, he darted up, flying several feet at a steep incline. Once he felt better about his altitude, he zigged this way and that, careening forward like a madman in the hopes of evading enemy Chasers and Bludgers. The joyful laughter as the wind cut against his face probably did not help the appearance that he was insane.
But the Teppenpaw Quidditch team had seen him fly like this before, and hopefully they would know what was coming next. When he felt he’d made as much progress as he could, dark eyes locked in on a friendly-looking yellow blur below. Beginning his descent, he quickly dropped down to fly parallel and a couple of feet above them before he passed the ball down, with any luck into their waiting hands. Once the ball was out of his hands, he pulled up abruptly, hopefully becoming a roadblock to any opposing Pecaris. He didn’t see what happened to the ball as he braced himself for potential impact.
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<font color="yellow">Gabe Valenti, Chaser</font>
The cold doesn't bother me anyway
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<font color="yellow">Gabe Valenti, Chaser</font>
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<font color=tan>Ben Pierce, Chaser</font>
July 14, 2016 12:20 PM
Just let it go by <font color=tan>Ben Pierce, Chaser</font>
Ben slept well the night before his first real Quidditch game, going to bed early to make sure he was able to fall asleep by his normal time. He knew it was important to be well rested to play well, and played in enough other sporting events that he had a routine all ready to help him settle down and sleep. Of course, he still woke up earlier than normal, and excitement upon seeing that the sun was up meant there was no going back to sleep. Sunrise in January was a lot later than sunrise during normal sporting seasons anyway, so he figured he got enough sleep. Next, he ate a good breakfast - his lucky breakfast of toast with peanut butter, scrabbled eggs, a banana, and a large glass of milk - then spent the rest of his time before the game making sure his broom was in perfect condition, getting dressed in layers with his Pecari Quidditch robes on top (robes were very accommodating for that; it was way more uncomfortable trying to get a turtleneck under a baseball uniform when it was cold out), and doing some warm-up exercises.Once out on the Pitch, he didn't think it felt as cold as he'd felt this morning walking from Pecari's Commonroom to breakfast, so hopefully the sun would continue to warm things up as the morning progressed. In any event, he was from Boston and thought it was way warmer than the temperatures he'd endured over midterm, so when he asked one of the older students for a warming charm, it was only because he didn't want his unprotected fingers getting stiff and messing up his catches and throws.
He listened attentively to the captain and coach, and kicked off the ground when the whistle blew. He did not make it to the Quaffle first, but Joella did, so he wasn't too upset by that. He flew ahead, trying to put himself in a good position for a pass. Joella must have thought so too because she tossed the ball his way.
Too late, he spotted Joe Umland coming up from below, and the pass was interrupted, but not cleanly, the ball was going down, and Ben dove for it. Unfortunately, Gabe got there before he could, and Ben turned around, grimacing as Teppenpaw claimed possession of the ball and started heading away from their goals.
Ben chased after, flying above Gabe as he did all sorts of hi-jinx that probably made him a difficult target for bludgers but very easy to keep up with if one wasn't following every little turn the guy made but just marked his progress toward the Pecari side of the field. Ben might be a little easier for the beaters to pick off, but he trusted Atlas to keep him safe and his own ears to warn him of incoming danger.
Eventually, Gabe passed, and Ben dove down to intercept from above as Joe had intercepted from below. Coming down was easier for two reasons; gravity worked in your favor so you could move faster, and if you only managed to knock the Quaffle off course, like Joe had done, you were already going downward so it was easier to recover the falling ball. This was what Ben did, initially just swatting it away from its intended target then scooping it up for himself in two distinct but coordinated moves.
He turned back around and headed for Ginger Pierce once more. He knew she was a distant relation of his, but even if he actually knew and was close to her, which he wasn't, this was sports and going easy on anybody was not part of the game. Had he actually caught Joella's pass, he'd have gone for a shot at her, but Gabe had recovered too much distance for his team for Ben to risk it now.
He flew back to made up the lost ground and an extra couple of yards for good measure, flying much straighter than Gabe had done and at close to his best speed, hoping more to simply outrun any bludgers shot at him than to avoid them, so while he covered amount the same net distance, he held the ball for a shorter period of time. Satisfied by his progress, he looked for a good passing opportunity and shot the Quaffle toward his brown robed teammate.
OOC: I am assuming the restriction on wizards playing muggle sports that Gabe mentioned either doesn't apply to local summer kids leagues and/or, being Pierces, his family knows the loopholes to get around such lame regulations.
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<font color=tan>Ben Pierce, Chaser</font>
Just let it go
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<font color=tan>Ben Pierce, Chaser</font>
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<font color="yellow">Joe Umland, Chaser</font>
July 15, 2016 2:25 PM
No right, no wrong, no reasoning for us.... by <font color="yellow">Joe Umland, Chaser</font>
Joe breathed easier for a moment when the ball he had just sent flying ended up in Gabe’s hands. He returned the grin and followed, watching with some delight as Gabe took evasive measures to avoid Bludgers and Pecaris and such things. His roommate’s public demonstration of flying skill probably meant he’d lose a bit of prestige when this year’s yearbook came out, but that didn’t even occur to him as Gabe reclaimed some of the ground Joella had covered and Joe followed behind him. Instead, he just thought, with more than a little satisfaction, that anyone who had underestimated their team because all of its Chasers were on the small side was probably feeling kind of stupid right about now. Teppenpaw was a contender and that was all there was to it.Unfortunately, though, one of the Pecari Chasers had no reason to have ever looked down on or understimated Gabe and Joe and Nat, as he was someone their size, too. Ben intercepted Gabe’s attempt to pass pretty much the same way Joe had intercepted Joella’s, which Joe guessed he had to admit was fair enough. He couldn’t help but wonder, though, if the ball was just going to bounce back and forth between the six Chasers for the whole game, nobody ever getting close to a goal unless someone got desperate and tried a really long run that would inevitably end in a Bludger….
Well, if it did, that would at least still prove that the Teppenpaw Chasers were a force to be reckoned with and that Joella and Ingrid and Jack and Louis and Arianna (only the last personally known to Joe, and he actually hoped he could get to know her better in less contentious circumstances than a Quidditch match, but John rambled enough that Joe felt more familiar with the rest of the Sonora Quidditch world than he really was) should watch their backs. The strategic part of his brain kept trying to point out that this might not actually work to their advantage, that Aladren underestimating them severely might give them their best chance of winning the championship if they made it that far, but that thought kept getting shouted down by adrenalin and pride in what they’d accomplished so far. If the Beaters could just take out one Pecari Chaser, though, he thought he and his yearmates could really get some stuff done….
In the meantime, though, the action was moving back toward Ginger, and that was unacceptable. Throwing caution to the winds, he flew more aggressively toward the ball than before and intercepted Ben’s pass, his stomach feeling as though it was doing backflips as he actually got a grip on the ball for the first time in a real game and dove with it to avoid the Pecaris. It felt weird, doing things without thinking; he wasn’t sure, as he turned around again, if he liked it at all.
He didn’t hold onto the Quaffle long, passing it quickly at the first opening he saw toward one of his teammates. He hoped the opposition would expect him to go longer to reclaim more ground and thus might not be in position yet, though he had no idea if that was a realistic thing to hope for or not at the moment. Everything he had read and studied about Quidditch had flown out of his head minutes earlier and he hadn’t a clue where it had gone or when it was coming back. Hopefully, he thought dimly, 'not far' and 'soon.'
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<font color="yellow">Joe Umland, Chaser</font>
No right, no wrong, no reasoning for us....
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<font color="yellow">Joe Umland, Chaser</font>
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<font color="yellow">Gabe Valenti, Chaser</font>
July 16, 2016 9:27 PM
I'm free! by <font color="yellow">Gabe Valenti, Chaser</font>
Gabe punched the air in frustration as Ben grabbed the ball. Sure, it was fun to be playing his first official Quidditch game against one of his buddies, but it had been slightly more fun with Teppenpaw in possession of the Quaffle. He quickly spun his broom around, shaking off the bad feelings as he did so. An interception was lame, but he could hear his older sister’s voice in his head, teasing him for letting one bad play get to him. There was a lot more game to play before it was all over. Or potentially, not a lot of time at all. Quidditch was weird.He flew slightly above Ben and to his left, speeding as fast as he could while shimmying side to side, always conscious of the possibility of a Bludger strike. The second year had never actually had a bad run-in with a Bludger, but he didn’t plan to find out what that was like, either. His cousin had taken a couple of bad Bludger hits during her own team’s Quidditch practices, and those didn’t look like any fun at all. He pumped his knees, one after the other, still tucked close to the sides of his broom as he tried to keep his body loose. His body was starting to get warm between the multiple layers, physical exertion, and adrenaline pumping through his body, and a gloved hand pulled down at his gaiter as he moved forward.
And then it happened. Gabe’s seemingly calm, puzzle-loving roommate went after the ball like a linebacker ready to crush a quarterback. Amazing! Gabe whooped loudly, momentarily forgetting that he was not a spectator, but in fact, an active participant in the game. Blushing slightly, he moving forward. Right then and there, he decided that he would have to demand that his roommate practiced Quaffle interceptions with him. It appeared to be Joe’s specialty.
Inspired, he darted forward, flying closely to Joe’s left. He remembered his cousin’s observations about short-pass game, and her opinion that it basically made a group of chasers a bunch of sitting (floating?) ducks, awaiting a Bludger that was inherently inclined to go after high densities of flyers. But Gabe was confident in his speed, and besides, Joe’s enthusiasm was making the second year feel brave. The dark-haired boy whose messy curls flew out every which way as he powered forward was eager to show his teammate that he was equally as committed to the success of the team.
But quickly, before Gabe was entirely expecting it, Joe passed the ball his way. He blocked the ball with his chest, the layers of clothing between him and the ball blunting the impact slightly. He silently thanked whoever it was that had the idea for gripping charms as he fumbled a bit with the ball. That was pretty clutch. Ha, ha.
Excited, he flew straight now, though maybe that would throw off anyone used to his usual shimmy. His body was flat against the broom, and the Quaffle held below him as he went faster and faster, knowing no fear as he crossed the halfway mark and picked up speed. Going fast was his favorite part of flying, after all. It was like being on a roller coaster, only better because you got to control it, and anything could happen next.
Speaking of roller coasters, he had not been checking at all to see if Nat and Joe were keeping up with him. Whoops, that was no good at all. Gabe was fast, but he doubted he could make it down the rest of the field himself without a Bludger or Pecari catching up to him. Besides, he was no ball hog, not at all. He took a sharp incline, going higher and higher, inclining further and further until he started to make a backwards loop, although he never quite turned enough to be completely upside down. Hopefully it might throw off some Pecaris, though, as his head turned from side to side, looking up and down to see if there were any yellow blurs behind him, and -
Aha! There was actually a yellow blur above him! His teammates were so sneaky! His body and broom at about a 45-degree angle with the ground, ankles and right arm all hanging tightly onto the broom, he chucked the ball with his left arm across his body and over his right shoulder and to his teammate, before swinging himself with all his might over his broom, to be sitting atop the broom again, facing towards Ginger and the Teppenpaw hoops instead of the Pecari hoops, his original direction.
His whole body was warm with excitement and adrenaline. He had flown almost upside-down, and in a game, no less! The only thing that would make that even better was if his teammate caught the ball and scored the first Teppenpaw goal against Pecari. He was fast, but his teammates were so clever and he was sure either Nat or Joe could make the shot. Gabe would love to say that he had assisted the first goal that Teppenpaw had shot as an independent team in years.
OOC: Ben - For reference, found that rule here. Not sure how strict it is, but assuming that Gabe’s family isn’t entirely comfortable navigating the legal system of the magical world and generally prefers to follow the straight and narrow.
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<font color="yellow">Gabe Valenti, Chaser</font>
I'm free!
330
<font color="yellow">Gabe Valenti, Chaser</font>
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<font color='tan'>Ingrid W, Chaser</font>
July 17, 2016 6:57 AM
Yup, free of that pesky Quaffle (you're welcome) by <font color='tan'>Ingrid W, Chaser</font>
Ingrid was tingling with excitement for their first match, not only of this season, but for an entire year and a half. She was also on tenterhooks about showing her skills in front of Coach Grase. It was a surname she’d seen emblazoned across a pro uniform only a handful of years before. There had been magazine articles about her. And now she was here, in their very own school. Ingrid hadn’t thought it possible that there would ever be anyone in school she looked up to and wanted to impress more than Liliana, but that was now rapidly changing... Maybe the coach was even unofficially doing some scouting? Ingrid knew it was a tough go of it to become a professional Quidditch player (which was why she had the totally rational and down-to-earth back up plan of being a dragon handler - something that gave her a bit of a soft spot for Coach Grase’s former team, given their logo) but if she impressed Coach Grase, and if Francesca just got on with it and married into a family that contained a pro-Seeker, then maybe she’d have some decent connections.The morning of the Quidditch match, she bounced out of bed - an unusual occurrence reserved only for match days and Christmas morning; for all that she was a bundle of energy once she got going, Ingrid was rarely a morning person. The day was freezing but she’d survived enough Chicago winters to not truly be bothered. Her mum had packed her back off to school with several underlayers imbued with warming charms, knowing how Sonora’s weather had a strong Irish temperament, in spite of the desert setting. She slipped these on under her robes, glad she could stay warm without anything too bulky which would impede her range of movement.
She had a big plate of eggs and bacon for breakfast, choosing wholemeal toast because even though it tasted like cardboard there was something about it being better and releasing energy more slowly that meant it would keep her going for longer. After washing that all down with pumpkin juice (because sure, she could see the benefit of a hot drink on a cold day, but coffee and tea tasted really gross) she was ready to go.
As they lined up against Teppenpaw, she felt a fluttering of nerves in her stomach that maybe didn’t quite reflect the opponents they were facing. Still, even though Teppenpaw was a new and fairly young side, Ingrid had a number of reasons to feel anxious about the match, besides the fact that Coach Grase was watching. One, the biggest and most important reason: they had to win this if they were going to lock horns again with Aladren, and they had to because Theodore was graduating this year and she had never put a goal past him. Two: she liked winning. Three: although they were overall quite young, so was she. Sure, she had a year advantage on her fellow Chasers, and at the moment that put her a whole grade level above them, which made her feel pretty big, but it was her and Ben and admittedly Joella, who was ace but actually the differences between the Chasing teams weren’t huge. She knew Liliana could stop anything but she really didn’t want it to get that far, that often. She wanted to show that she could do this.
As the game kicked off, she got into a defensive position. It wasn’t her favourite place to play, as it didn’t usually see the most action - it definitely wasn’t the dynamic, out in front, give-us-your-best-moves place she’d hoped to be in front of Coach Grase - but someone had to do it. You couldn’t all just clump around the Quaffle. She cheered as Joella got it, trying not to resent her getting such a cool slice of the action (because people like that - people who put their own glory above being in a team, and weren’t able to take a needed and valued, but less glamorous, backseat were… well, basically Jamie Park. And if there was one thing that was worse than not getting her best shot at impressing Coach Grase, it was being in anyway like Jamie Park). And besides, it looked like she might be needed early on, as the Teppenpaw team managed to take possession and secure a pass. But then Ben was in there, which was, again, good, because it showed he could hold his own against the kids in his year group. Although they seemed to have the upper hand, as they took it back again, and again managed the pass that Pecari so far hadn’t been able to pull off.
She was going to be on them though. They were coming far back enough to be in her territory. She had the disadvantage that, being further up the pitch, she might have been visible to Gabriel during his run - although with all that was going on at any given moment, it was hard to tell on a Quidditch pitch - but she was pretty sure she could still get in someone’s way, even if she lost the element of surprise. She focussed her attention on one of the Teppenpaw Chasers, who was no doubt trying to line themselves up to receive from Gabe, flying very deliberately towards them, ready to mirror any shimmy they made, her eyes locking on and her body language clear: I am in your way, and I am going to stay there. Gabriel seemed to have entered into evasive manoeuvres as well, whether due to her or some other perceived threat, she wasn’t sure. She continued to make her presence known, doing her best to get between the Teppenpaw Chasers. She guessed she was still far enough back to be out of Gabriel’s peripheral vision, or he just had some kind of lapse or no other choice, because she suddenly saw the ball heading towards the Chaser she’d been marking. He had good aim, and she was still further back, but putting on a burst of speed, she was able to dart forward, brushing the other player (not hard enough to seriously knock them off balance or be considered a foul but perhaps enough to startle an unseasoned flyer) and scoop the ball out of the air. She was already facing the right way, so flattened herself out, knowing that she’d been so close that the Teppenpaw could easily get on her tail, provided they hadn’t lost control from being jostled.
As there was a decent chance that she had a close tail, she wanted to get rid of the ball quickly (or for a Bludger to come along and smack someone just behind her out of the air). She knew at least two of them were behind her, or had been when she’d started this run (and she was flying straight on a pretty decent broom), so that put the odds in favour of a long pass, which any of her tails would then have to chase hard to catch. She scouted around, hoping the unaccounted for Teppenpaw Chaser wasn’t ready to pounce, and gave her hardest throw to a Pecari player a good few metres further up the pitch.
13
<font color='tan'>Ingrid W, Chaser</font>
Yup, free of that pesky Quaffle (you're welcome)
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<font color='tan'>Ingrid W, Chaser</font>
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