Grimalken swore at Ainsley and her eyes immediately went to the ref - "No call! C'mon!" she called, taking a moment to gesture indignantly.  But the quaffle was loose and falling to the ground.  Thank Merlin that beast Clayton was on it like an asteroid crashing to the earth, stoppable only by some demonstrative spellblast. 

"Go! Gogogogo!" she shouted as she swung out to try and get open, ready if Clayton needed to pass it off. 

James was not really concerned with the action down below, but he had the distinct feeling that catching the snitch would be a better idea sooner than later.  He saw a glint of gold out on the far corner of the pitch before the snitch went back into hiding.  He knew the snitch was still somewhere over there, and Irving was far closer to that point than he.  Uttering a few choice euphemisms in Russian, James played it cool.    Doubting that Irving would bite on a fake at this point in the game, James decided to slightly increase the search pattern velocity.  He knew that he would be in that corner of the field shortly.  He also kept an eye  on  Irving to ensure that she kept her search pattern.  Not that there was much he could do if she did see the snitch, but he needed to at least yell to his beaters or something if she made a move when they were that far apart.

With Forrester's insult to her face to fuel her near-manic energy, Lorraine Irving hunted for the snitch like a predator scouring the skies for its last meal. Or perhaps its first meal in months. Laney wasn't about to be taken down permanently, after all. She stared hawkishly after the other team's seeker as he disappeared into the blue, but didn't bother following him. It was too soon in the game to take up the role of stalking shadow for anyone but the unseen snitch.

So quaffles jumped from broom to broom, bludgers whistled past like lethal dungbombs, and Keepers whirled most impressively in front of their giant soap bubble wands. And Laney perched there in the sky, ever the cat, ever the hawk, ever the Magpie itching for something new to nick from under the opponent's nose.

And then she saw it: a glint of gold, exactly halfway between herself and Forrester. Not pausing once or thinking twice, she sped toward it, eyes only for the snitch[1], hand outstretched...

1.	I thought this thread could use a nice kick. Obviously, Laney has not caught the snitch, as that would not be fair. But at least spotting it will revive some of the action, yes? Forrester, your turn!

Dominik had been up all the night, celebrating his little sister's twenty-sixth year at life at the family cottage.  It may not have been her party proper, but it did involve a great deal of private conversation over mind-altering potions late into the night -- an emotional hailstorm of sorts.  That afternoon, his countenance fit very well with Forrester's, but rather than stone-cold his expression was heavy with a loaded avoidance.  Hungover, unsatisfied, and unamused, Dominik had walked onto the pitch to be blasted by the familiar but always foreign experience of a roused crowd, their roar sinking into the depth of his being.  It was grounding, but at the same time riled something within him, awakened his adrenaline and lent to him a dangerous sort of power.  He was home on this Pitch.  This was practice on acceleration potions.  And, perhaps a smidgen of Alihotsy....

He'd taken to the air in the flurry of activity, his head in a spin but his physicality growing bold.  To Dominik, the whole enterprise seemed a dream that so well reflected his internal experience that he wondered where his body began and the world ended as he interfered with the first bludger in reach early on in the game.  This early in the game, the Magpie's possession of the Quaffle did not much bother Dominik's attention.  Focused on gaining a feel for the Pitch in its current state of clashing bodies and instruments, Dominik had stayed high, circled, gone down below.  All the while he may have passed a bludger there, changed one's trajectory there, but his focus was not on where the Quaffle was or on hitting a target.  Not yet.  Foley was a beast and could, for the moment, deal with the world without Dominik Wiedman losing sight of the whole scene for an early glory. 

The Falcons were holding a strong defence against the Magpie's early offensive, but Dominik didn't underestimate what kind of damage those two furies, Grimalken and Clayton, could do.  Nonetheless as he came into himself, Dominik kept his eye predominantly on Laney Irving, Seeker of the opposing team.  She was a pleasure to watch, but also an anchor for him.  He'd been coming to know her, to know how she flew, how she sought, that he had an inclination to watch her closest, to hold back as he read the players on the Pitch.  So much rested on player dynamics, and those same dynamics had been altered drastically in one fell swoop.  Would their fast and hard trainings transfer to the game in question, or not?

Surveying the field after putting a bludger towards his fellow Beater for possession, Dominik looked out for Laney once more.  Her manner of moving had only just changed in a way that was growing familiar, the feline perk of her being as she dove for the gold glimmer and fragile wings of the Snitch.  Something large and looming drove Dominik, who then bellowed at the top of his lungs toward the other Falcon's Beater and raced on an upward trajectory, weaving through the swath of players in search of a properly pelted Bludger from his mate.

Without hesitation, once he'd come upon a moment of pure sight at the right angle, Dominik cracked his Bat on a plummeting Bludger, aiming directly for Laney Irving's delicate frame.

---

[[OOC:  Sorry for the long post and late response!  Who's up for a revival?]]

(((OOC: Sorry for being out of town.  Revival is exactly what this thread needs)))

James was already looking at the general area Irving was when she made her move.  Knowing that the snitch had been spotted, James turned on the after burners.  He was about to yell for a beater for some cover when Dominik launched a hard bludger at Irving.  Thanking the quidditch gods for the intervention, James was determined to make the most of the opportunity.  Knowing that he had at least two stones on Irving, he decided to make gravity work for him.  Though he was not aware of it, he was setting an airspeed record for  a quidditch match.  James had to keep two legs and one hand on the broom in order to control it.  Realizing that he could not compete with Irving's reach at this speed, James tried a new strategy.  Putting both hands on the broom and getting more speed, James kept his sight on the prize , hoping that this maneuver would allow him to get to the target before Irving.