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Post by Tonkin on Feb 5, 2007 10:11:41 GMT 10
Tonkin was stumbling as he waddled across the Quidditch Pitch carrying far too much. He was holding up his masters broom, which he had to use one whole hand for, holding it away from everything else he was carrying so as not to scratch it. In his other hand he was carrying the chest of balls, which on its own was far heavier then he was, as well as a net and a couple of beater bats. He didn’t know what the net was for but knew it was not his place to question his master and so he continued to waddle on with all of these things.
When he reached the centre of the pitch he twitched his cooked elf nose and all of the objects he was carrying went flying out of his arms and positioned themselves across a small area in a neat order. His masters Broomstick hoever three feet above the ground without moving an inch. It was being held up by Tonkin’s own magic, and not by the brooms magic at all.
“Master likes his broom well rested,” he reminded himself out loud as he watched Lucius Sinister’s Firebolt hover without moving an inch.
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Post by Lucius Sinister on Feb 5, 2007 11:46:25 GMT 10
Lucius arrived at the Quidditch pitch barely noticing the excellent job his house elf had obviously performed for him. He moved forwards wearing his House Quidditch robes and looking about the pitch judging the weather and the conditions he would be practicing in today. He did not know the student he was supposed to be trailing this morning. His grandfather had said something about it being a family member of some influential wizard somewhere in the country. Lucius, however, did not know the name Pengryffin and wondered just how influential this boy’s father actually was.
Lucius’ hair was tied back behind his hair tightly, there was no breeze so he was sure of his lengthy hair not being an issue. He did however put on a pair of quidditch goggles which magically shaded his eyes against the glare of the sun. This also helped him see the balls a lot better. He was pulling on his gloves and preparing to mount his broom when he heard footsteps coming towards him from the men’s changing rooms.
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Post by Barnak Pengryffin on Feb 12, 2007 21:28:29 GMT 10
Barnak glanced at the sky and then back at the boy in front of him, and at all the various items laid out nearby. It looked like this would be a proper trial. He was glad for it: he hated not being taken seriously.
He passed his broom between his hands, letting the empty one flex gently and curling the fingers of the other around its handle. It was a comfortable feeling, imbued with all of his best memories. The broom itself was absolutely immaculate: not a twig was out of place, and if one were to look at it closely they could probably see their face in it - that is if he were to ever let anyone else get close enough to look at it. He had even warned his assigned elf never to touch it without being directly ordered to.
Barnak stepped lightly across the lawns, head erect, face set, eyes narrowed most probably because of the sun. He stopped in front of the older boy and nodded respectfully.
"Sinister? Your note said noon. I'm a little early. I can wait, if you wish." He inclined his head toward the stands nearby but didn't show any sign that he planned to move toward them, the hand holding his broom unconsciously moving it into a ready position.
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Post by Lucius Sinister on Feb 13, 2007 20:01:28 GMT 10
“Which position do you play?” he asked the boy by way of greeting, he didn’t know him enough yet to show that he intended on using his name when addressing him. At the same time he did not show him any disrespect merely letting him know that there was a little ways to go before he would be a part of the short list of people Lucius cared to affect as names rather then just faces. That was of course, discussing only those who were in his house, the faces of others beyond were even lower being still.
Lucius let his eyes slide over the boys broomstick he didn’t spend too much time looking at it, but in the moments he did spend looking along the handles to the twigs at the end, he took in a lot more then Barnak probably realised. The boy had passed his first test, the broomstick looked to be very well cared for, though Lucius knew the real task would be when the boy was flying, would the broomstick handle as well as it should if its condition was not artificial.
As he waited for the answer Lucius walked to the side of his Firebolt and inspected it. His house elf had caused it no damage and he was quite pleased with the way his broomstick shined. He had had it serviced for the new Quidditch season and saw that he could indeed trust the old wizard that worked at the Quality Quidditch Supply store in Koaltumut.
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Post by Barnak Pengryffin on Feb 17, 2007 22:40:10 GMT 10
Barnak watched the boy walk to his broom and he admired the other's appreciation for the object. He eyed the quidditch equipment around him and breathed the clean-cut grass in deeply as he answered.
"I have played both chaser and keeper before, but only in the amateur sense. I suppose chaser would be my preference, but I'm willing to try out for either and allow you to decide my greater aptitude."
Barnak hoped that he didn't sound /too/ arrogant. He knew he could fly, and he knew that he was competent at sports, but he reminded himself that he was being given an exceptional chance here, and that he didn't need to attack fellow Ruberagons. Old habits died hard.
He attempted to look more humble and waited patiently for the older boy to begin giving instructions.
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Post by Lucius Sinister on Feb 18, 2007 7:14:52 GMT 10
Lucius listened and for a while and said nothing for a short period after he flicked his wand and the quaffle floated up off the ground a little of the way. The quaffle, as every Quidditch player knew, had no magical qualities whatsoever it did not attack you as bludgers did, and it did not try to evade you; as would be said for the Golden Snitch. Lucius was interested in just how good a chaser this boy thought he could be, Lucius had also played both Keeping and chasing positions and had found the chaser position to be a lot more involved.
“You see, in Ruberagon, we choose our chasers over their ability to keep the quaffle well away from our goal posts, and I mean well away, to the point where we really should even need a keeper,” Lucius said as he hoped this would demonstrate to the by just how important the position of chaser would be to the team.
“Very well,” he said at last wondering just how quick the boy’s reflexes were, he lifted the quaffle with his left arm, and with his wand in his right, he aimed an exceptionally powerful bombardment curse at the quaffle and it shot a hundred feet in the air and off to one direction, “Catch it before it hits the ground,”
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Post by Barnak Pengryffin on Feb 19, 2007 21:15:53 GMT 10
Barnak leapt forward into the air as his broom took off almost of its own mind in the direction of the quaffle. He landed on it and pulled himself into position midflight in the same way that BMX riders twist in the air during stunts. Hunkered down, robes flying and eyes squeezed tight against the drying rush of air, he streaked toward the growing red shape ahead. About half way he knew he had made it. He steered his broom upward, on a trajectory which would take him beneath the falling quaffle, shifted his weight slightly and reached out a hand in readiness.
Unfortunately, his finger caught one of the edges of the ball on such a bad angle that he instantly sprained it, and pulled his hand back in the unconscious movement of any injury. In front of him the quaffle kept falling, but now spinning slightly due to the sudden off-balanced contact. Cursing loudly, Barnak flattened himself against his broom and willed it faster toward the ground, managing by some miracle to again find himsefl beneath the ball. He twisted himself half around and reached out with his other hand, this time gripping it tightly and tucking it under his arm.
A tickling feeling on the back of his head distracted him suddenly, and when he realised it was grass he balked and willed his broom upward, away from the ground it was about to ram him into. He slid quickly to the side as the broom obeyed his thoughts, lurching upward and leaving him with no way to hang onto it. Hooking first knees and ankles over it he willed the broom to stop, and found himself hanging upsidedown, hovering approximately ten feet from the ground with the quaffle tucked firmly under one arm.
'Well,' he thought miserably, 'I suppose I ought to take this back, then.' Barnak willed his broom in the direction of Lucius Sinister, slowly lifting himself as he approached until he was sitting on his broom again, dropping almost vertically and sliding off onto the ground as he neared it. He didn't much care for these fancy ways of mounting and dismounting that he had recently seen older kids using. Jumping suited him just fine.
He placed the quaffle on the ground at his feet and waited to see what would come next.
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Post by Romulus Silvia on Feb 22, 2007 7:01:33 GMT 10
Romulus smiled as he watched everything unfold. Quidditch was the spot or men, not children. It also required a great deal of talent, not a wealthy parent. And it required pleasing Lucius, a downfall Romulus found with the whole game, but one he could not overcome while at Koalingo. He sneered when he witnessed the boy miss the quaffle, he hadn’t expected such a poor display of Quidditch skills, or lack thereof. The boy had been in a perfect position to begin with, and so regardless of the fact that he had made a truly spectacular save from that point forward, as far as Romulus was concerned; the trial was over.
“Marvellous,” a loud and hollow clap came from across the pitch where Romulus was leaning against one of the defending goal posts. He had seen Lucius heading down this way earlier and guessed it would be something like this. If for no other reason then curiosity Romulus had stayed back a short while and wandered down directly after he had seen the first year head this way. He didn’t know the boy, nor did he understand why Lucius was humouring him with the trial, he was quite obviously not very good at Quidditch, which was why Romulus felt some sarcasm was in order.
“Well done, first year, and I must tell you I have a family friend who performs eight out of ten months a year with the Prussian Magical Ballet,” Romulus laughed as he moved forward to where Lucius was on the pitch, “Perhaps you would like her details, she might be able to get you in as an extra,” he smiled. It was not a very polite intrusion into the Quidditch Trial and Romulus knew had it been his trial he would not be as polite to the offender, though he never really considered being polite to a first year was necessary.
“You know though, Lucius, I feel you have finally taken a step up in the world, house elf not good enough for you, lets take another wizard and teach it to play fetch,” Romulus was almost openly grinning now. He was bored, and the first year was an easy target. That coupled with the fact that Lucius was his favourite target; Romulus felt thoroughly in his mode.
“For surely you are playing fetch as that dismal display could not possibly be classified as demonstration of Ruberagon Quidditch Team skill,” Romulus didn’t care about Ruberagon, or its Quidditch team. He did care for whether he was on the team or not though, it was quite important to the grander scale of things.
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Post by Barnak Pengryffin on Feb 26, 2007 22:29:17 GMT 10
Barnak threw the boy a filthy look, then squinted in the sun and bowed his head again, lifting one arm and waving away the Ruberagon as though he were a fly.
"Why don't you give me your mom's number, too, while you're at it," he mumbled half-heartedly, putting just enough effort into moving his lungs for the boy to hear him. He flexed the sprained fingers and then swapped his broom to them, twirling it upside-down and picking a few near-invisible specks from its twigs. He didn't know if this boy was perhaps with Lucius, but he wasn't going to let him spoil this one and only chance to make the team. If he lost it, he would do so on his own demerit.
Speaking of demerits, Barnak stopped picking at his broomstick and looked back at Lucius, not even giving the other boy the satisfaction of eye contact.
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Post by Lucius Sinister on Feb 27, 2007 17:25:22 GMT 10
“But of course Romulus here would know exactly what to look for in a decent Quidditch player, as he himself has never made the team, and so certainly understands what it takes to not qualify,” Lucius said with a sneer as he flicked his wand without muttering any kind of charm. The beaters bat which lay idly on the ground by the box of balls; floated up from the ground and Lucius gripped it hard. He was now going to see how well Barnak went with keeping away from bludgers but had thought it might be prudent to be rid of Romulus… well as rid of him as the wizarding law allowed.
”You know, Barnak, I have been thinking, some take it so hard when they are rejected from the Quidditch team for the first… second, sometimes third time, they always seem so upset, and we cant have that now, at least not within our house, one must look after his fellow house mates,” Lucius said, with genuine looking, but genuinely not; concerned facial expression, “You’ve been rejected for the Ruberagon House team what… six times already? You have so much more experience at being a loser then anyone else, perhaps you could call it extra-curricular and try to make up for those graduation points you lost by failing telepathy last term,”
With that Lucius summoned the bludger up to himself and gestured for Barnak to join him in the air, “Alright, next we shall see how you are at contending with bludgers, you will not have a beater protecting you all the time, in fact I hope you can take care of yourself as our beaters are going to be completely offensive this year, no more defensive,” he said as he held the beaters bat and belted the bludger out into the air. The flaying cannon ball flew a fair way before turning and fly back at him so that he could hit it again.
“I will hit it at you at regular intervals, sometimes a little more rapid that others,” he said ignoring Romulus altogether now, “And I don’t think I need to tell you the aim here is to not get hit, fall of your broom once and you will not be considered for a team placing,” he told the boy, he didn’t care if he got hit, he just had to stay on his broom and carry on. “You will take the quaffle again and do what you were just doing, only alternate between the goal posts at either end of the field, score as many times as you can in five minutes, ready?” he barely waited for a reply, or even for Barnak to collect the Quaffle before he belted the bludger at him.
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