The timeout gave Sasha just enough time to coast in a small, lazy circle and roll his shoulder.  There would, undoubtedly, be a mark tomorrow but his shoulder was intact.  He'd certainly survived worse.  He could worry about that once the game was over. 

A sharp blast cut through the cold rain and Sasha flattened against his broom.  Leaving LeJean to whatever had caught her attention, the Ravenclaw sped down towards the far end of the field. 

He was halfway down the field when he spotted a flash of gold.  Sasha flattened himself against his broom and urged it after the target.  As much as he wanted to glance around to see where LeJean was and if she'd noticed, he knew better than to try.  It was easy enough to lose the Snitch in good weather - in this rain, even blinking your eyes risked losing the spry winged ball. 

Squinting against the cold rain, Sasha ignored the sharp ache in his shoulder as he took up the pursuit.

Alvis winced at the shouting, giving...whoever the bloody upper-year Hufflepuff was...a nasty look. No matter how they tried, there was no way to make 'Badgers' into a threatening war-cry. And it didn't exactly bode well for a team if they could only make a goal when the opposing keeper was too blind to see the ball.

"Thank you," he muttered to Chole, taking the glasses back when they were pressed into his heavily-guarded hands. Alvis didn't make a habit of carrying his wand onto the pitch, in part because he'd witnessed the trouble it'd caused in other matches and wanted no part in the nonsense. He held the corrective lenses to the sunlight and frowned at their state. "Ugh. They're all covered in slime."

With the quaffle in Ravenclaw's possession he was free to hold the lenses up to the rain and clean the worst of it off with his robes. He settled the spectacles back in place in time to see one of the Ravenclaw chasers pull off an impressive barrel roll to dodge their 'Puff-y opposite number, then pass the quaffle to another blue-robed teammate as the closed in on the goal. Meanwhile, Sasha seemed to have his eye on the snitch -- he was bearing down on something like a hunting dog.

Alvis crossed his fingers against the wood of his broom. A goal or a snitch-catch. Either would be golden for Ravenclaw.

Angie allowed herself the luxury of a big smile when her team scored. They were on the board. They had actual points when the other team didn’t. She wasn’t sure exactly how in the world that had even happened, but she knew that it had to be remnants of what they had drilled during practice. She hovered in front of her goal posts as the play was reset, but then took on a look of confusion as Chloe called a time-out. Who called time-outs during Quidditch? What, did little miss I’m-better-than-you-because-I’m-older need a time-out? To catch a breath or something?

“Hey! Fig! Watch your mouth!” She called from where she was perched on her broom, defensively guarding her hoops. She wasn’t a huge fan of trash-talking the opponent, well, not out loud anyways. She gripped the handle of her broom tightly as play resumed, and the frigid rain kept falling in droves. It would let up every few seconds, only to send another torrent of rain their way. In other words, it was a beautiful day to play Quidditch.

She hunched down as the Ravenclaw chaser got closer and closer to her hoops. They launched the Quaffle towards the goals as Angie reached out. Her fingertips glanced off the side and redirected the momentum just enough that it bounced off the goal post. It wasn’t the best block, but it prevented points from being earned and she was alright with that. The second attempt on the hoops was sloppier and she sent the Quaffle sailing with a well-aimed kick, straight to one of her Hufflepuff teammates.

It was amusing to be scolded by their fourth-year Captain, but Figaro knew better than to defy her on the pitch.  Instead he gave her a big, insincere thumb's up.  But the game was on and he was ready with his bat.

As Ravenclaw made their way towards Angie and the hoops, Figaro flew with purpose to track down a bludger.  However, they were both out of his reach and Ravenclaw was able to take two solid shots on Angie. 

The whole crowd exclaimed when Ravenclaw nearly scored twice, once off the hoop itself!

And suddenly, Figaro had the Quaffle.  It had come right to him, and hit him square in the chest.  He caught it and held it.  The stands shouted in protest at the clear violation of the rules.  He seemed about as startled as everyone else, and quickly just dropped the thing, holding up his hands in a gesture of total innocence.

Rayven flew under her teammate to get the quaffle and start heading back to the Ravenclaw goals. With Alvis having his glasses back, she knew this attempt couldn't have any flaws and would have to be timed perfectly and there would have to be real effort put into it. Not only that, after Ravenclaw almost getting two goals, it was time to really get into the game. She flew up to the goals again. She had used her fake the last time she shot. He would probably be expeciting it again. This time, she aimed straight for the goal in the hopes of making another goal.

"Sellaphix!"  Hooch's own cry of protest at Figaro's glaring bobble was cut short when the lad promptly dropped the ball.  The gaffe seemed genuine and so Hooch allowed the game to continue unprotested.  She knew she'd hear about it from some Ravenclaw's later, but sometimes it was better to let the game go on than to stop it up for a technicality.

But now, the Hufflepuff Chaser Rayven Sorin, who didn't hesitate was taking full advantage and had taken a shot on Ravenclaw's hoops.  You'd better have your specs on straight, Mr. Norling!

"Oh, come on Hooch!"

Alvis blew up his bangs in annoyance, letting the blue-robed Ravenclaw crowds give his complaint the voice he didn't have time for. Seconds after the beater dropped the ball, Sorin was on him. Unfortunately for her, Alvis hadn't seen the last fake-out -- the previous goal had, from his perspective, been little more than colored splotches coming at him all at once. Her straight run at the goal made things doubly easy. He didn't even have to run the angles.

He cut straight across the goals, deflecting Rayven's shot with an upwards swing that sent the ball flying. A fifth-year chaser swooped in to catch the pop fly, but barely got twenty feet before a Hufflepuff cut them off and snatched the quaffle back.

"Give me a break!" Alvis groaned, pushing his broom towards the furthest goal. Granddad had modded the Cleansweep for stability, not speed. As the Hufflepuff chaser darted in for his shot, Alvis pushed off from the kickstands with both legs, lunging past the front of his broom. His fingers caught the very edge of the quaffle, batting it down.

Alvis got a fast glimpse of the red ball spinning towards the sandpit below before gravity caught up with him. He pitched forward, one hand scrambling around the vicinity of his knees for a new grasp on the handle as the other kept his glasses pinned to his nose. He barely managed to stay on his broom, knees and fingers hooked around the polished wood, but he was dangling from the front of the handle, not in the rear like a proper ride. Already, the broom was starting to tip down as he scrambled to get back in place. All this while the quaffle was still in play.

"This is just not my day..."

Figaro was still scrambling to find a Bludger to send at Ravenclaws to give his chasers some cover, but they were all otherwise occupied. Funny how you never had a bludger hurtling at you when you needed one.

And holy crap! Norling was nearly off his broom.

"Open hoops! OPEN BLOODY HOOPS!" he shouted with a sense of urgent panic and investment not often seen in the ne'er-try-too-hard Hufflepuff.  Merlin's PANTS, why wasn't he a Chaser?!

Chloe swooped down, grabbing at the red ball And sighing at Alvis. "RIGHT YOUR BROOM, NORLING!" she yelled. No, it wasn't helpful. Sure, it was stating the obvious. But she wasn't pitying Alvis anymore. She wasn't going to lose this game to Hufflepuffs. Hufflepuffs! Who barely could pull themselves together a team! She had pride, and she wasn't going to lose it.

Chloe jetted off towards the Hufflepuff goals, ready to face off against Angie. She kept one eye on Sasha, hoping he'd find that snitch. She wasn't happy with how this going. They needed that snitch.

After the pair of glasses Helio had caught flew out of her hand again, she continued the search for the Gold Snidge. She didn't really know how she had just aided the Ravenclaw keeper from continuing the game sans glasses, only that it wasn't the Snidge.

After cycling the the stadium with no results she got in league behind the other team's Seeker. The ball would have to be found at some time.

Angie cringed as she watched the Quaffle sailed to Fig, but it was alright. His head was in the game and he quickly realized his mistake as he dropped the red ball. There was a minor shout from Hooch, but other than that, the game was continuing on, thankfully. And, and, they were in the lead with 10 points.

Angie felt her stomach lurch as she watched Alvis struggle on the other side of the field. But what made his day terrible was making her day a little bit better. She knew the points had given her team a pick-me-up to continue playing, and the Ravenclaw’s weaknesses were being semi-exploited. Not that she felt bad, well she did. She did feel bad that they were playing on the other teams off day… Angie preferred playing when both teams were at their best to get a sense of where they were standing in the season and how they would continue to play against the other teams. (But then again, the feeling of potentially winning gave her a great buzz.)

She huddled down against her polished broom, glaring at the Ravenclaw chasing down the field towards her. For a Hufflepuff, Angie had a lot of pent-up aggression directed at her fellow captain. Her mouth set into a grim line and she swerved in front of the middle hoop, glancing quickly at her seeker to see if they were making any progress. With Helio on their heels, she figured they must be on the right path to potentially finding it. Hopefully.

The two Seekers were now in line and the crowd was getting restless.  Hufflepuff's record this year was crap and everyone knew it.  With fouls, missteps, and low scoring matches.  Seeker LeJean had yet to achieve a proper capture - but neither had Schlagenwiet.  The outcome of this match could tip the scales for which of the teams had a shadow of a chance at the cup.

Then there it was! A roar of excitement from the crowd and a frantic acceleration from the Seekers was proof enough! The snitch had been spotted!  Hooch's attention, and indeed all the attention on the pitch turned to the battle.  Now that the snitch was in play, it hardly seemed worth it to keep up with the Quaffle.  Or perhaps it was just the sheer excitement of the match being decided after a long match of missed shots and effective defense on both sides. 

The two seekers were hot on the tail of the snitch who was giving them the chase of their lives.  And then the moment happened.  The snitch juked and it was sheer dumb luck, but LeJean chose correctly.  She dove up while Schlagenwiet dove down and just like that, the snitch was caught by Hufflepuff!

Yellow scarves and bumblebee striped fans in the stands went bonkers, and the fans in blue clapped limply and began to clear out.  The announcer seemed as surprised as anyone - Hufflepuff wins!


With a resonant ding and an almost surprised hurrah from Hufflepuff, the score was tallied and the crowd responded! 

It had just happened.

Which was not surprising at all to Heliotrope. Surprise was a landdweller concept anyways or at least not used as a term by Merpeople that lived in a mostly isolated loch. Heliotrope did things instinctively so whether something occurred or not was based on whether she had succeeded or events transpired in such a way that she couldn't. The schwilll of the currents, a mermish phrase for when things flowed unexpectedly. It wasn't a surprise, it just sometimes happened.

All she had done was spot another possible flash of the gold snidge, visible to her because of how far back she had been from Sasha's flight path. Heliotrope had adjusted her flight accordingly and reached out at hand after some swerving to keep sight of the little ball...

Then something was tickling the inside of her hands, in the extra skin between her fingers. The silver wings lulling from their frantic buzz.

An event Heliotrope was recounting now detached by several moments. Apart from the sudden rally cries from her house, back slaps and cheers from her teammates. A sea of jubilation and lifted spirits as the game tapered to its end.

All for a caught ball, the first time Heliotrope had managed to catch one without invoking a foul. And she felt...







There was a foggy sensation in the back of her mind, like in the depths of a lakebed under muted light, where the fuzzy slime on a stone turns back and forth. And the merperson would ask the significance of such an event.

Heliotrope may have finally succeeded as a Seeker but there was still something she didn't get.