gooseberryhigh | QUIDDITCH: May 6, Match #11

EBONHIDE

RIBBONFIN

Conditions: Sunny, clear skies throughout the entire game. As with last year, there are a few well-dressed adults in the stands with Mrs. Bloom, presumably scouts for North American teams. Both cheer squads present their showstopper routines, but it's Captain Ives's squad that wins the most shouting and banner-waving from the audience. Team Ribbonfin might be in last place, but their fans have arrived in full-force to cheer them on.

0:00:00–0:30:00 — Quayle grabs the Quaffle; Ebonhide knocks out a quick series of goals with him on point. Bagman steals from Decourt and leads a few plays, but Wilde shrugs off everything that comes at him. Davenport soon rallies, blocks a shot from Decourt and hits it into Rush's hands, who scores the first goal for Ribbonfin. Score is 40–10 for Ebonhide.

0:30:00–1:00:00 — Davenport is focused now, blocking every shot that comes at her except for one sneaky throw by Quayle. Ribbonfin rallies. Just as they tie again, Ryder dodges a Bludger from Kim and crashes into Webb; Webb stays on his broom but Ryder falls off, hitting the ground. Pitchford is subbed in as Chaser. Score is 50–50.

1:00:00–1:30:00 — Ebonhide presses their advantage. They hammer Davenport, who can only block half the goals. Decourt, Quayle and Webb are a well-oiled machine, weaving and dodging, passing and scoring, almost untouchable. Popplestone sees the Snitch but holds back, knowing that Ribbonfin needs way more points to even have a shot at the Cup. She tries to chase the Snitch off, but North follows; Delgado and Evercreech get their bats on the Bludgers and hit both at North, who just manages to dodge by flipping under her broom. The Snitch disappears. Score is 100–70 for Ebonhide.

1:30:00–2:00:00 — Ebonhide stays strong, as the Ribbonfin Chasers start struggling as their Beaters switch their attention to the Ebonhide Beaters instead. They aim for Bailey, who has a harder time to keeping surprise Bludgers off her. Kim moves in to protect her, and gets a Bludger to the face by Evercreech. He's out cold. Chan subs in as Beater. This seems to shake Ebonhide; their Chasers struggle without Bailey and Kim backing them up. Ribbonfin ties again. Score is 110–110. It's anyone's game.

2:00:00–2:29:52 — Ribbonfin edges forward, with Bagman leading in scoring. Rush and Pitchford make solid backup, with all three players putting in goals past Wilde. 120, 130, 140... This is the best they've ever played. Popplestone spots the Snitch a second time; she considers holding out again, but North is too quick, and starts chasing the Snitch as she's thinking. Popplestone struggles to catch up, leaning low on her broom. She can't let her team down. Chan hits a Bludger at her but Popplestone dodges, barely slowing down. Everyone in the audience stands, screaming for their favorite team. The sound is deafening, but for North and Popplestone, the only thing they hear is their breath, the wind, and the fluttering of metal wings. They're shoulder-to-shoulder now, arms outstretched, fingers straining. Only one Seeker can be the best...

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RIBBONFIN WINS
190–120

Whether you're a player, cheerleader or spectator, post below with your character's reactions! If you wish to post separately about the game, please use lj-cuts and mark for spoilers for the first 24 hours, so no one sees the result before reading the official match description.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ending up in the infirmary is becoming too regular an occurrence for the Ebonhide team, even for Clem. Since February:

She's been bashed in the head by a bludger.

She got hit by a bird and broke her ankle.

Quayle's been bashed in the head by a bludger.

She took another bludger to her arm.

Tuesday broke her leg.

Wilde got bashed in the head by a goalpost.

Casper has had his face newly rearranged by a bludger.

Even before Casper's injury today, the team has been worse for wear - and this is Tuesday and Wilde's third game in as many weeks. Their training schedule has been lax for awhile. Probably as lax as it's been since Clem's been on the team. So it's a little hard to not feel like the fact that they didn't play their best today isn't her fault. But she also knows that there's another timeline where she and Quayle ran the team harder and they had even more injuries today. They're 120 up from Azurcrest, and even though it'd take a pretty massive fuck-up of judgement on Jaime and Sy's parts to put them in first place at this point, it's a respectable showing. They've done well.

Still, she spends a little longer in the showers than she strictly needs to. Her bad shoulder is bothering her - she's not sure if she's actually pulled something, or she's just imagining things. Sympathy pains? Self-pitying pains? Something like that. Anyway, she's in there for a solid twenty minutes, long enough that the water has gone tepid. So she shouldn't be surprised that she isn't the first one to Casper's side in the infirmary after the game.

"Hey," she says, plopping down on the foot of Casper's bed, which she knows he's not going to like. She's not in a standing-on-her-own-two-feet kind of mood right now, though. "Good season, kids."

Clem's right that Casper doesn't want her perched on the end of his bed but that's mostly because he'd prefer to be alone. Because, despite all of his proclaimed disinterest and his dismissive attitude toward Quidditch, coming to in the infirmary instead of finishing the last game on the pitch leaves everything feeling somehow...incomplete. The knowledge that they'd lost doesn't help. The fact that his face still aches and his head still throbs doesn't either. Healer Mufferaw had taken care of the worst of the damage, a badly broken nose (that had bled everywhere) and a fractured cheek bone and a no small amount of bruising, but he'll still need some time to fully recover from taking a metal ball to the face.

Still. He knows why they're here and so pulls in a breath, silently resolving to act as fine as he can. He doesn't even complain about his captain's (former captian's?) chosen spot. Instead, he gives a small nod, "...We lost. But at least we made them fucking work for it."

Edited (Downplaying serious injuries whatev whatev. MAGIC. ) 2018-05-07 04:39 (UTC)

"Hey," she says, holding a finger up to stop everyone else from talking while she gets an extra word in. "Second place is still not out of the question for us."

Second place is basically losing in Clem's opinion and everyone here knows that, because she says so all the time, but... still. It's not like they completely beefed it.

Tuesday is perched a little far from the bed, still there, because she feels like she should, but near enough to Casper's privacy curtains to draw them around herself and hide if she wants to. She doesn't do that quite yet. "I'm still reallysorry." She squeaks out, for maybe the millionth time.

Ulysses is sitting in a chair at Casper's right-hand side — has been pretty much since the game let out. Unlike Clem, he hasn't showered, so hopefully Mufferaw will kick them all out of there before he starts to get stale.

Although, he may get a fight. Ulysses knows Mufferaw will keep Casper safe, he does, but after all the times Casper'd put himself on the line for them, leaving him here alone feels awfully like a betrayal. Besides, the cabin always feels strange without Casper; turns out, rowdiness is less fun without someone there to temper it, and Ulysses is likely to lapse into a quiet mood real fast if he's shooed away. Not good for a day like today, when all of them had sad little thoughts rolling around in their heads. Threatening to snowball into something morose.

But still, just because they're feeling sorry for themselves doesn't mean he likes to hear stuff like that. Not from Tuesday, who has played so well and given so much to this team. "What're you sorry for, huh?" He says, reaching out as if to smack the sorry out of her. His arms don't quite reach. "You did incredible."

"You killed it," Wilde confirms.

He feels bad about his own performance. Worms in his stomach. But Tuesday is a fucking winner.

It's hard to believe that this is where it ends, but that's a reality.

"Gwen got lucky."

Liberty stands near Tuesday, unsure of whether Casper really wants his space or if his face just always looks like that. The scowl, not the bruising.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Tuesday," Liberty says, patting the other girl stiffly on the shoulder, half from awkwardness, half from muscle fatigue in her arms. She knows she doesn't have half of Casper's skill as a beater, but she had done her best to make up the difference.

"We practiced as hard as we could, and we played as well as we could. We should all be very proud."

Ulysses flashes Liberty the watery smile of someone who is trying their very, very hardest to project contented confidence and not that their insides are coated with a thick, black sludge. Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly right.

QUIDDITCH: May 6, Match #11

Meanwhile, on the Island of Broken Toys (Ebonquid)

Meanwhile, on the Island of Broken Toys (Ebonquid)

Meanwhile, on the Island of Broken Toys (Ebonquid)

Meanwhile, on the Island of Broken Toys (Ebonquid)

Meanwhile, on the Island of Broken Toys (Ebonquid)

Meanwhile, on the Island of Broken Toys (Ebonquid)

Meanwhile, on the Island of Broken Toys (Ebonquid)

Meanwhile, on the Island of Broken Toys (Ebonquid)