Gryffindor Quidditch

m a i n   t e a m Keeper: Beater: Clementine Russell [C] Beater: Adara Perkins Chaser: Donna West [cC] Chaser: Mavis Nandamuri Chaser: Cassandra Nichols Seeker: Tomie Vos

r e s e r v e   t e a m Keeper: Beater: Beater: Chaser: Chaser: Chaser: Seeker:

Code: [Select]

[color=#960000][b]Name / Year:[/b][/color]
[color=#960000][b]1st Choice Position:[/b][/color]
[color=#960000][b]2nd Choice Position:[/b][/color]
[color=#960000][b]RP Sample:[/b][/color]

Name / Year: Donna West / 6
1st Choice Position: Chaser
2nd Choice Position: Keeper
RP Sample: She loved the little bracing impact when she caught the Quaffle; Donna had been working for ages to resist the urge to just freeze mid-air whenever it thunked into her hands, but sometimes she couldn't help spinning away with it, just a little. She had a good eye for kinematics -- had often thought that she liked tossing the ball around more than she liked flying, that adding the flying only made it more exciting by giving her another direction to throw. But that was basically blasphemy in Quidditch.

She leaned into a zoom to the left; the throw had gone wide, so Donna had to go wide, too -- it didn't help to curl her toes in her shoes, when any aerodynamical advantage it gave her was belied by the Quidditch robes billowing around her legs, but she did it anyway. The ball was moving fast, fast enough that she put both her arms out to catch it (she'd dropped a lot of Quaffles in her time and it was always embarrassing.)  The momentum spun her a few degrees off-course; she dragged the front of her broom to the left to correct herself, darted her eyes left (all clear) and right (one of the Beaters, yelling at her to duck.)

Oh, duck -- she slammed forward on the broom and dipped a few feet; while the Bludger soared straight over where she'd been a moment ago, she took advantage of the movement to swing back up toward the goalposts. As she was speeding along, she readjusted her grip on the Quaffle, took her hands off the handle, rose a little bit off the seat to throw it as forcefully as she could at the left hoop, over the Keeper's shoulder.

Still half-standing on the crossbar, she caught hold of her broom handle again and swung to watch the Quaffle's trajectory, tense and hopeful -- this was a freezing-up habit she'd never shaken, and (fortunately) one she'd never been told to stop. She had a good eye for kinematics, she had a good guess already whether she'd score or not -- but she still wanted to see it for herself, just in case.

Name / Year: Tomie / 2nd
1st Choice Position: Seeker
2nd Choice Position: Chaser
RP Sample:

Tomie moved in loose loops high above everyone else, occasionally dipping into the vertical mid-zone of the field. She did her best to keep track of the other players without really looking at them. The other seeker, all beaters, two bludgers and the snitch were the most important elements for her, specifically, but checking where everyone else was every now and again was automatic. She could never play keeper, she thought, eyes flicking to her team-side hoops as she shifted her weight on her broom. Too much time spent just sitting there, waiting for the action to come to you. What was the point of playing a sport played in the sky if you didn’t get to really fly? She was distracted for a moment, her speed dropping a touch.

A gold fleck caught her attention and she immediately scrambled to throw herself flat against her broom, diving towards it. Idiot. She had a job to do! There would be time to berate herself for getting distracted later, though; Tomie pressed her lips together, a harsh frown cutting her features as she got ready to grab it. Her heart was in her mouth as she picked up speed. Less than twenty metres away... Ten... Her hand shot out, a surge of triumph in her chest as her fingers snapped shut around… Nothing. Well, not nothing, but definitely not the body of the snitch – just the wings, before they slipped out of her fist. She threw her body weight to the left, wrenching her broom handle up with her other hand and spinning her broom around so she could shoot back the way she’d come.

Slippery little bastard, she thought, raging at both it and herself internally. Off of the pitch, she knew the snitch didn’t really have a mind of its own. It was just enchanted – not sentient. On the pitch, however, when she was playing seeker, it was just as much an enemy as every member of the other team. Moreso than most of those, even; Slytherin’s keeper, for example, wasn’t much threat to her. It was an enemy player, and thus warranted internal swears and insults.

Anyway!

She cut back up at an angle through the sky, leaning forward, her eyes trained on that glint of gold, fingers buzzing from the cold or tenseness or anticipation. This time, she didn’t miss. Tomie snatched the little golden orb out of the air and brought her closed fist close to her chest, both for balance and reassurance that she’d actually done it. Thank Merlin she’d damaged its wings on her first pass; it hadn’t quite been able to zip away. It all happened in a second: she flashed past, missed, spun around, shot back up and snatched it out of the air. The triumph she’d felt a moment ago vindicated now as she caught the damn thing. Tomie punched her snitch-holding fist above her, her expression breaking into the biggest grin she’d ever had as she tried to catch her breath. A moment later, when she realised it was all, in fact, real, she laughed.

Name / Year: Mavis Nandamuri / Fifth Year
1st Choice Position: Chaser
2nd Choice Position: Any
RP Sample:

There had been a time when Mavis honestly believed she would never fly again. The teenage witch had all but written off ever playing Quidditch for Gryffindor again, too. After a crash last term, some broken bones, and a trip to the hospital wing, she had been terrified to get back up in the air. It had taken months and some very pushy support from Jae Kim to finally get her back on a broomstick. And while the fears weren't entirely gone, Mavis was exhilarated to be wearing Red and Gold again. Her nerves kept her alert as she wove through the air, following closely behind another chaser in the formation they had practiced. If a bludger came her way, she was ready for it.  Even if she wasn't, Mavis was tucked behind Cassandra, so that was about as protected as one could be on the pitch.

Racing toward the hoops, Mavis's eyes darted from the quaffle tucked under Cass's arm to the rings they were gunning for and back. A little bit further. a little bit further, she reminded herself. The other team's chasers were bearing down on them, closer and closer, and Mavis worried they wouldn't reach the end of the pitch in time. As she followed behind Cassandra, Mavis did everything in her power to block out the memories that threatened her balance. The moments leading up to her crash last year had haunted her nightmares for months, and now that she was in the air again, they threatened to show up during the day too. She blinked fast, "You got this," She whispered against the wind, barely able to hear her voice this high up in the air. Mavis pushed the front of her broomstick toward the ground, diving underneath Cassandra as she dropped the quaffle, just as they had planned.

Self-pep talks were commonplace for Mavis, and as they neared the hoop, she doubled down. "You got this, girl!!" She shouted as the wind and crowd surged around them. Quaffle in hand, Mavis lined up her shot and gave it everything she had.

Name / Year: Adara Perkins/Fifth Year
1st Choice Position: Beater
2nd Choice Position: Any
RP Sample:

Adara knew from experience that almost nothing was comparable to the feeling she got when she was up in the air. Almost nothing because the only thing better was being in the air and with bat in hand. It was ironic, too, because she really frowned upon her teammates getting hurt (they really should take better care of themselves, reckless idiots) but she derived a certain level of personal satisfaction when she was able to knock a few teeth loose from opposing players. She'd always feel vaguely bad about it, after, but nothing fueling her fire than someone targeting her team.

It made her sort of rabid, actually, not that it took too much to get her into a mood considering how grumpy she could be, at times.

She kept a careful eye on Mavis, pleased, when her friend took the plunge and managed to look confident in the air when she'd gone so long without even flying. She gripped her bat, quicksilver eyes narrowing on the incoming bludger, before she swooped down and cracked her bat against it with considerable force. She liked to surprise people with how quick and hard she could hit mostly because you just wouldn't expect it from someone as compact as she was.

Name / Year: Cassandra Nichols, 6th yr
1st Choice Position: Chaser
2nd Choice Position: Beater
RP Sample:

She wished she had a better broom, she did.

Cassandra had borrowed a Firebolt before, just to fly a few laps around the pitch. She could still remember how the wood seemed to meld with her, like it was just Cassandra flying unsupported through the air after the ball. The school broom was good, yeah, but it wasn't a Firebolt, didn't sing under her legs as she flew.

This was coming up now, of course, because Cassandra had started to twist just a fraction of a second too late, and the Bludger clipped her shin. She had sworn, loud enough to cause some first years in the stands to drop their jaws open. They'd live, she reckoned. Cassandra gritted her teeth and flipped herself right side up again.

The game was still moving fast -- thank God, one of their other Chasers had the Quaffle and was rushing it down to the other end. Cassandra leaned forward, letting the wind ring in her ears until she had caught up to everyone. Their Keep blocked the Quaffle – shit! – and launched it down towards the bottom of the pitch. Cass was the lowest of the Gryffindor flyers. Her captains hadn't even started to yell before she was diving, straight down, her body and broom perpendicular to the ground.

What Cassandra had over the other Chasers was that she wasn't afraid of the ground. Her arm wrapped around the Quaffle and she kept flying straight down, pulling up at the last possible minute to soar past the other team.

They had the element of what the hell, Nichols on their side -- Cassandra passed the Quaffle to Donna to score, a grin already forming on her face.