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Post by parisnowan on Sept 1, 2008 16:14:28 GMT -5
Paris' sly smile widened as she realized Keaira had indeed made the shot she had attempted. Gripping her broom more tightly, Paris anticipated the Ravenclaw's attempt to score on her own post. She half-heartedly hoped for another steal, but it became evident that no such thing was going to happen as the Ravenclaw Chasers made their way further down the pitch. Eyes widening, she saw out of the corner of her eye the rest of her chasers pursuing her opponents, in hopes of earning the Quaffle. But Paris knew the only way now for such thing to happen would be for to her make a good performance; to make a save.
And then, her mind went into focus, the rest of her sort of going into a trance. Any second now the shot would come; and she would have to fly forward. All that was going through her head was the thought of what she was about to do; everything else was absent. But Paris found it a little surprising, actually, as the Chaser made his throw still quite a good distance away. But that was good for Paris. It slowed the speed of the Quaffle, and gave her a small additional second to guess which direction the Quaffle would come; yes, only a mere second, but an eternity in the world of Qudditch.
Right, it was going to her right. A quick, impulsive, dive from Paris and she felt the Quaffle in her finger tips...nearly slipping out from her hands. Almost dropping the large, red ball, Paris struggled to keep it within her hands. She couldn't make a save only to drop it! However, her work paid off and she finally secured the position of the Quaffle in her hands, quickly strategically throwing to a nearby Chaser. And then, the Slytherin Chaser was off down towards the other end of the pitch. Keeping it underneath his arm, the Slytherin Chaser sped off quickly, picking up intense speed as he neared the posts.
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Post by antontarasov on Sept 1, 2008 16:27:06 GMT -5
Anton had watched the first few seconds of the game play out confidently, trailing his own Ravenclaw Chasers as they competed for possession of the Quaffle. Keeping his eyes open, the Seventh Year Ravenclaw watched for any bludgers nearing his own players, or himself. His bat firmly in hand, he confidently awaited a chance to get himself more actively engaged in the match. True enough, Slytherin had been the first to score, but there was a long way to go in the match...a simple bludger sent flying in a direction of an opposing player...and he knew what could happen....
He trailed one of his own Chasers as he made his shot at the left hand goal post, coming out unsuccessful in the end. But Anton was ready. As soon as the Slytherin Chaser had departed in possession of the Quaffle, he quickly set off behind him. It was a Beater's duty to remain close to the Quaffle and the inner workings of the game; that was where all the opportunities lied. So it was no surprise to Anton when such spoken opportunity appeared before him...
As the Slytherin Chaser made his way toward the posts, Anton slowed a little as he saw moment out of the corner of his right eye. But of course; a Bludger. Fully eager to take this opportunity, Anton turned a little to the right, tempting the blugder to come closer. It happened all right on time. Anton had come to a swift, complete stop by the time the Bludger came into contact with his bat, and with a strong curve of the arm, sent the dark ball flying in the direction of the Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle. The ball barely missed hitting the Slytherin, but it was enough. The dark red ball was then dropped, open to anyone to retrieve.
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Zane Lucifer Bishop
Slytherin
[green]6th Year Slytherin[/green] Elemental Master of Metal
You people all have to learn. This world is going to burn.
Posts: 483
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Post by Zane Lucifer Bishop on Sept 2, 2008 12:53:12 GMT -5
A bitter curse was spat under Zee's breath as he fell in behind Alessandro, the other boy much quicker on the draw than he. He didn't understand; to his thinking the Ravenclaw's broom must have been inferior to his, yet still he could only barely keep up. What was the other boy on? Most of the reviews he'd read had told him to get the Thunderbolt, yet it didn't seem to be performing any better than whatever Alessandro rode. Overtaking the younger boy seemed impossible, his skill frustrating Zee to no end. As a general rule, Zee didn't partake in activities he didn't excel at. His pride wouldn't allow it. Now though here he was, and while it may or may not have been apparent to the crowd in the stands, to Zee it was painfully obvious that he was by no means Alessandro's equal in this field. Gritting his teeth, he sped on.
From his view behind, he couldn't quite tell how close Alessandro was to the snitch, but it seemed much, much too close. While he accepted that there was a possibility of not catching the elusive ball himself, he would not allow Alessandro to capture it so early, before his chasers could even raise their score. Eyes narrowing, Zee jerked his head very slightly to the right, more a subtle sideways nod. The small metal ball heeded his call, shooting off the the right before it could be caught. Much to Zee's chagrin Alessandro continued to perform impressively, cutting a sharp turn and still following close behind. Zee turned as well, but not as fluidly, and it seemed all he had accomplished was losing ground on his opponent. Another curse flew from his tight lips.
Coming to a near halt, Zee veered off to the side, confused by the other boy's sudden aerobatics. Then of course he saw the bludger and shook his head in disbelief. He hadn't even been keeping watch for the things. If it had come his way he'd be lying on his back right then. Having lost site of the snitch himself in the sudden chaos, he was left with no good option but to ascend to Alessandro's altitude and join the search. As he did so he saw that Keaira had acquired the quaffle and was even then lobbing it toward the golden rings. A small grin spread across his face as she scored, glad that their points were rising. If he could only keep the snitch from Alessandro's grasp long enough for Keaira to accrue a high enough total, they would win regardless.
As he hovered there, high above the action with his eyes darting about, he drifted slightly closer to his opponent. Zee hated that his strategy showed quite clearly that he held more faith in Alessandro's ability to locate the snitch than his own, but that fact remained and so he kept his peripherals on the boy as he searched, ready to spring after him should he dive.
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Post by Katherine Knightswood on Sept 4, 2008 2:00:03 GMT -5
Katherine had settled into the game after the first minute or so of play. Once the action started, it was all about being a Beater, and her nerves had been traded for a pleasant rush of adrenaline that made her feel more alive than she had in weeks. Her broom was responding beautifully and she was enjoying herself to the hilt. She suppressed a guilty moment as she sent a Bludger careening toward Keaira with a swift smack of her bat. This may have been the fellow student who was helping her with her sword work, but Quidditch was Quidditch, after all. Just for today, she and the Slytherin Chaser were friendly enemies.
Katherine swore to herself, admiring Keaira’s grace at dodging the Bludger. She flew off down the field after the mixed group of Chasers and Beaters, trying to get a shot in to prevent a goal. She just wasn’t able to get a clear shot at Keaira. Slytherin scored, and then Ravenclaw took possession of the Quaffle. Katherine arrowed back down the field and aimed careful blows at the pursuing Slytherins. It was an aerial ballet, players dodging and swooping around each other in an attempt to score. The young player swore more heatedly when Paris, the Slytherin Keeper, saved against them.
“Broadmoor’s Bludger,” she muttered, as she streaked down the field in pursuit of one of the Slytherin Chasers. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Anton, her fellow Beater move up for a shot, and she put herself in a support position for him, keeping an eye out for Bludgers that were aiming for her own Chasers or him. Anton sent a Bludger right at a Quaffle-carrying Slytherin, and it was just enough to get the opposing player to drop the ball. Katherine saw the other Bludger heading her way, and readied herself to use it to hold off the Slytherin Chasers in the mad scramble for the Quaffle. Time to get down to business. Grinning like a madwoman, Katherine streaked toward the knot of contention, her bat at the ready.
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Post by parisnowan on Oct 4, 2008 17:44:24 GMT -5
Paris squinted her eyes as she attempted to make out the little details of what was happening to her team. So far, the game was doing very well for the Slytherins and she wanted to keep it that way. The narcissistic Nowan twin's confidence was at its peak. The only problem was, being the Keeper, she could do little about what was happening with the rest of her team. Her interactions were generally with the other team during the game, as the opposing team was always the ones who wanted to take the Quaffle to her end of the pitch. It was a hard balance: Paris wanted to play, but didn't want her team to get scored on, and every time an opposing Chaser took a shot at her, there was always a chance of that happening.
Paris' face slowly dropped as she recognized one of her Chasers had lost the Quaffle; definitely due to a Bludger. Her eyes quickly followed the path of such bludger which pointed to Anton Tarasov as the culprit. Making a grunting sound to express frustration, her insides continue to strain to the point that she felt that she was going to go crazy simply staying at her pitch. Keeper was by far her favorite position; in fact, it was her specialty. Yet even so, seeing her team lose possession was always a temptation to leave her post and go for the red ball. She'd never yield to such thoughts, but it still presented a sort of inward struggle.
She watched as another Slytherin Chaser quickly dove and tried to make an attempt to catch the dropped Quaffle. The one who had been hit by the bludger also seemed to recover quickly, making his way to his misplaced ball as well. This was all happening in less than seconds. The pressure squeezing her insides out, Paris quickly looked at her her beaters to observe their own actions. To her relief, they looked furious, perhaps even more so than her (but she could not make out the exact details due to the far distance.) Both moved fast, as if out to kill. A sly smile returned to Paris, realizing that if the worst were to happen in this situation, and the Ravenclaws where able to achieve the Quaffle, her Beaters would be there to do something...reasurring. And if everything went the Slytherins' way, the Bludgers would stay clear from Anton Tarasov and Katherine Knightswood and ever near to the Slytherin beaters as well.
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