Montrose Magpies vs. Falmouth Falcons

K: Ian Cuddyer B: William Pennyapple C: Juno Grimalken C: Wallis Clayton S: Laney Irving K: Adric Foley B: Dominik Wiedman C: Athena Ainsley C: Marmaduke Amherst S: James Forrester

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As the two teams enter onto the pitch, the cheers from the capacity crowd soar. Even though Montrose is the visiting team, there are plenty of supporters in the stands to balance out, especially when the starting lineups are introduced. Clearly the match has garnered a lot of attention from fans all over and had stoked their enthusiasm.

Following the introductions, A voice booms over the open expanse and provides the added commentary. "Good afternoon, Ladies and Gents! Boys and Girls! Fans of Quidditch All! This is your pal, Maximus Bolide, along with my cohort, Hunter Radley, and we're coming to you live from the home pitch of the Falmouth Falcons for their match against the league leaders, the Montrose Magpies. It seems like just yesterday that our season began but already it's closer to being over. And this match is one that has a lot riding on the outcome. These are your top two teams in the standings,  with Montrose holding the edge. And it could be an insurmountable if they win tonight. But the Falcons will do their best to keep that from happening as well as keep the points close in the process." There was a pause. "There are other reasons for the added interest in this match, including the recent three team trade that sent two Tornados players to each of these squads. Since the trade, the Magpies have already seen their acquisitions working well with two wins to show for it. Tonight will be Falmouth's first shot at seeing how their new line up fares."

Bolide's voice pauses again as the players position themselves for the start of the match and without much further delay, the referee blew his whistle, released the snitch, bludgers and quaffle in what seemed like one fluid movement.

Bolide roared, "And away we go, folks! This match is on!"

Juno, with her shock-white blond hair cresting above her brow like a rooster's plume, stradled her broom with both hands in the air and shrieked out a battle cry as the announcers heralded her team's entrance.  Cuddyer was keeping again tonight and had already started earning his Canadian stripes.   She was just damn glad to have that insane barracuda Clayton chasing with her.

There went the snitch, there went the bludgers, there went the quaffle and then the whistle!

Juno streaked off, straight for the Quaffle, hoping to get there before it apexed and began to fall.  Nothing more complex strategically than Get. It. First.  They'd sort the rest out later once Montrose had possession.

"Cover me!" she bellowed at her Beaters.

She snatched the quaffle without losing any forward momentum and pelted off towards the Falmouth goals.

James came to the locker room with a grim look upon his face.  He had a job to do today, and he was going to do it.  Or at the very least, bust a couple of heads doing it.  Unaware of how much his attitude reflected the team's motto, it was a stony faced Forrester who finally came upon the pitch.  Kicking up into the air, the warmup drills made him a little bit relaxed, and more or less went through the introductions on autopilot. 

The referee blew his whistle, and James saw Grimalken snatch the quaffle before either of his teammates did.  Figuring that he should focus on his job for now, he immediately began a simple searching pattern to seek out the snitch.  Figuring that he needed to encourage his teammate a little, he just gave some fairly obvious advice.

"Look alive !" he shouted, not really bothering to survey that action too much.  He had his own task to tend to.

(((OOC: Are we doing this free-form or with the professional rules?)))

New team, new game, new...well. The game itself wasn't new; the rush of the wind, the feeling of freedom, the roar of her blood in her ears was the same. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Wallis hadn't totally gotten over being sold like a cow (as she thought of it) but, well, so far her new teammates weren't so bad. At least some of them could hold their liquor, which earned them a gold star in Wallis's book - and they could stand back up from a punch, which got 'em another.

Wallis let out a roar of approval as Juno grabbed the quaffle. She followed, rocketing off after her younger teammate, making sure to use her bulk to her advantage - cutting off some of the Falmouth's chasers with a quick feint, grinning as they desperately swerved to avoid her.

"Good on yer, Juno!" she called, swerving around one of the opposing team's beaters as she followed the younger woman.

"J'adore bagarrer," muttered Athena Ainsley under her breath. The French sentiment essentially expressed how much she loved a good fight.

The statuesque witch sat stoic and unmoving on her broom before the start of the match. At first glance, she looked too meek and out of place on a team with the likes of brutish Wiedman and burley Foley. But as soon as the whistle blew, she sprang to life, her athletic frame crouched over her broom and her long, platinum blonde hair streaming behind her as she shouted quite loudly, "Allez! Allez!"

It was frantic urging for both herself and her teammates. Athena had been anticipating this match for weeks and already wanted to know how her team's new chemistry would play out.

She took off in the direction of the opposing team's tandem of chasers, who had already closed in on the quaffle. Even if they had the sphere first, she could keep on them and prevent them from converging on Foley, or at least too much.

Out of her peripheral, she sought her own partner-in-crime and hoped that Amherst was closing in to help provide backup.

Laney had done her best to vex Cuddyer in the short while he'd been playing with their team. Her tokens of chummy love had included whipping him with a sweaty towel whenever she caught him coming in or out of a locker room, looming around his goal posts to attract bludgers him during practices, and asking whether his mother wept whenever he cut his curls. The hazing process seemed ceaseless, but Laney had come to understand that he was annoyingly good keeper. There was a grudging respect there somewhere under the stubborn marking of one's territory. And he was sort of fun to poke into the spotlight when cameras came around. Especially if they'd all been drinking.

Now abroom and ready to choke Forrester with the dust from her boots, Laney Irving considered Ian Cuddyer nothing short of a brother. It was mandatory if they were going to win. She even threw him a nod, silently pow-wowing with the others before staking her spot in the sky. Her gloves tightened on her long, skinny fingers as Laney flexed her claws around her broom's handle.

When the game officially began, Quidditch's childbride had eyes only for gold. She trusted Grimalken and Clayton with the quaffle as she might trust them with her own child (nasty things as they were, children), and left Cuddyer to do what he did so splendidly with those three jutting hoops. The beaters could try her might, but Laney had the jackpot build for a seeker: lithe and wispy and slippery as a water snake.

Besides, Pennyapple might have a rock for a brain, but he was as fine a beater as he was a playboy.

Her brown eyes flashed malice when they landed on Forrester. It was the first time she had faced him on a pitch while he was seeking and not chasing. She couldn't help, like a magnet she found herself swooping toward him. Hovering some five meters nearby, she called out: "This is one brilliantly ugly stadium you have, Forrester. Congratulations." And then she flew off again, smirking to herself as she continued to scout for that loveliest glint.

It was the first game for the Falcons with their new chaser and Seeker, results could vary. As the hulking Adric hovered against the Quidditch goals, helmet and goggles secured, he expected the worst, and hoped for the best. So far things seemed to be going towards the worst.

Two of the most savage chasers were drilling for the Falcon's goals, and, so far, there wasn't anyone going to the defense besides a dependable Ainsley. He bellowed towards his teammates, "Break 'em up!" which meant a lot of things coming from Adric: Get back on defense, guard a chaser, mess up a tactic, bat a bludger at someone--whatever worked.

 It was better to just adapt one's self a catch all during the fast-paced sport. Less time to focus on word choice and more time to keep Adric's eyes on the approaching chasers and quaffle and his ears open for a soaring bludger.

"Looks like Grimalken of the Magpies is the first to snatch the quaffle," Hunter commented, keeping his eye closely on the game. "That can't sit well with the Falcons." Wouldn't sit well with Hunter if he was on that team. but he would never play with the Falcons, anyway. Hunter was Puddlemere all the way.

Other than the Falcons trying to close in on the Magpie chasers, the game wasn't off to a very exciting start. "Looks like all the Falcon focus is on getting that quaffle back, Boldie."

But there was more to talk about than just the game action. "What do you think of the new lineup for the teams?" Hunter asked. "Is it going to make a difference during this match?"

As Irving flew up and insulted him, James quickly replied.

"It beats seeing your face in the morning" James replied to his rival, his quidditch diplomacy shining through.  James then proceeded to ignore Irving, and focused on finding the illusive snitch.  Staying high above the rest of the action, James searched for his target.  He knew it was hiding somewhere, but searching for the snitch was left to professionals for a reason.  Knowing he had a job to do, James set about in a determined fashion.  James had not yet caught site of the snitch, and he was fairly confident Irving had yet either.  He was debating whether or not he should make a feint, but decided against it. 

Deciding to have some fun as long as he was up here, James slightly increased his velocity.  He was not going full throttle since he was doing a simple search pattern, but James was starting to have a bit more fun on his broom.  Relaxing and smiling, the grim look finally left his face for the first time this match.  He knew he needed to catch that fast and fluttery ball, but with the breeze in his face he forgot about office politics and remembered why he got into quidditch in the first place.

It was probably safe to say that Ian Cuddyer had been a wreck on the inside since the moment news of his trade had dropped. Of course, what he showed to the public was an entirely different story. There were so many emotions that he had been battling since that time or perhaps even before then and he was doing his best not to let them get the better of him when others were around.

He mourned the loss of his previous team. Someone as loyal as Ian had begun to establish roots with the Tornados and though they had been struggling, part of him had hoped he would spend as much time or even longer with them as he did with the Stormers. Unfortunately that was not in the cards. And now here he was with an entirely different team.

The upside was that Montrose was leading the league and was destined to be in the race for the title as the season neared its end. But Ian knew that even with their two wins earlier in the week that winning the whole shebang was not a done deal. Especially since they had to slog their way past the team they were playing that night.

As Cuddyer took his place in front of the goals, he grimaced. Scanning the Falcon's players, his eyes fell on the figure of Dominik Wiedman, who over the course of the season had become the closest thing Ian had to a loathed enemy in life. He wished he could be the bigger person and set aside his personal feelings towards the beater, but that was easier said than done.

If Wiedman had plans of sending wayward bludgers in his direction again, Ian planned to be prepared with some form of retaliation. The exact nature of it he had yet to determine, but his blue eyes narrowed as a few ideas crossed his thoughts.

Even as the whistle blew and Ian watched his team's chasers snatch up the quaffle, he was still ruminating about it. And still wondering if his foe would test his resolve once again.

The wind and surprise was on her side, and Juno streaked apparently uncontested at Foley's hoops.   She looked over to see Wallis at her flank, and no bludgers in sight. 

"No time like the present!" she thought, pleased with her good fortune of an early fast break.

She rocketed in straight at Foley and the center hoop, quaffle tight under her arm.  At the last second, she jerked to the left and sent the quaffle sailing at the far left hoop.[1]

1.	So the hoop on Foley's right.

Long arms and legs did wonders for reaching and adding a dive into it just made things easier.

Even though Grimalken had a nice trick up her sleeve, Adric wasn't going to let the game off to such an easy start. He dove in the direction she jerked and leaned his long limbs and large body out in front of the quaffle's path.

The ball skidded off his fingers and rainbowed off to the side of the goal. Adric caught his broom back beneath him as he watched the surrounding players react and bellowed, "No such luck!"

He wasn't a rookie, and going head to head with a chaser, regardless of skill, wasn't a new concept or experience for him. Things would have to get a lot more hectic for Adric to let something like that get past him.

Bollocks! It would have been intensely game-making to open with a score, but Foley was an early-riser it seemed.  Juno Grimalken breezed in towards the goals, keeping on her current path and clipped Foley as she passed. It wasn't a full check, but it was no snuggle either.

"My hoops, Foley!" she called.  "I'm just warming up!"

With the beaters caught up in battling for bludgers, there seemed to be little in the way of the chasers  maneuvering the quaffle around except for each other. The Magpies had gotten to the ball first and had ran it up the pitch for a shot on goal. Athena was hardly happy about this development and she sped after the duo of chasers to hopefully have a shot at a rebound.

Seeing Grimalken make contact with her Keeper made Athena's blood boil. She zipped towards her opponent and when she was close enough to ride up alongside, she leaned in with her shoulder and bumped the Magpie quite hard, unconcerned for how damaging the contact might  be for either of them. "Wrong, Grimy Grimalken! This is Falcon's territory...."

After the bump, Athena went off in search of the errant quaffle, hoping to keep it from falling into the hands of her foes again.

Wallis cursed as Juno's shot at the goals missed; the quaffle bouncing off the hoop and arcing away before it began to fall. "Bad timin', Grimalken!" she shouted, throwing her weight into a sharp turn that sent her stomach to her feet. The turn swiftly turned into a dive, her hand outstretched towards the ball, heart racing -

Ainsley was coming in towards her; she saw the movement of the younger, smaller woman from the corner of her eye. With a growl, Wallis threw her weight again, abruptly diving between Ainsley and the quaffle, in the hopes of diving the younger woman to fly defensively and thus give Wallis a shot at the ball.