Where dwell the brave of heart
Who: The Gryffindor Quidditch team
When: October 19th, afternoon
Where: The Quidditch Stadium
What: Gryffindor looks like it's down and out and it's up to the Quidditch team to get it back in the running. One last practice before the game might just be the boost they need.
Alfred had been sitting in the locker-room half-an-hour before the scheduled practice. His elbows were balanced precariously on his legs, the elbow pads cushioning the narrow bones. The laces of his armguards and boot were tight, almost numbingly so but Alfred's fingers were curled up in his hair, holding his head. His crimson and gold robes lay beside him, draped over the bench next to his Skyfire 2705.
All day, the pressure had only been building and building and building on his shoulders. From Gilbert's speech, to Atthis' harsh ultimatum and the general pressure of the house to get them points, Alfred was, for the first time, nervous. This was his first game as captain... What is they didn't win? And because of him? Not enough practices, too much practice, running his team into ground, no having a sense of team unity- the list went on and on and each spark of a new way to fail, to lose only made his fingers grip tighter.
Then he felt a hand on his head, whacking the back of it lightly, followed by a small reprimand of 'stop moping Jones'. Alfred looked up to see Ludwig walking by him, pulling his robes off and starting to change. Smiling a little at the German, Alfred nodded slightly; leave it to Ludwig to still be so stern.
Still trying to swallow the feeling of dread and as he stood up, finding himself in a headlock provided by a certain tall redhead. 'Don't look so down ya little shit, we'll be fine!' And before Alfred had time to straighten his hair, Vash had appeared, shoving plays into his hand, giving a curt nod before joining the other two boys in changing into proper uniforms.
Clutching the papers to his chest, he felt something very small attatch itself to his back and look around to see Peter there, giving him potentially the most serious look the boy had ever mustered. "We can't lose this match Jones! I need to kick Arthur's ass!" This was accompanied by a very weird smile before the weight was gone and Peter and ripping off his robes and pulling on his Quidditch gear.
Alfred sorted through the plays quietly while Alicia entered, beaming and bumping her hips to the captain's winking. "C'mon Alfred, it's just a game! And we're great at winning games~" He had to smile back at this slightly before feeling a punch to his arm and hearing a laugh from Elizaveta as she glided past him. "Ali's right Al, let's just hope you're better at catching Snitches than tomatoes." The two girls changed without really being bothered by the presence of the boys. Why would they care? They were a team.
Once they were all suited up, Alfred led them out to the field and they stood there for a moment, looking at the stands and the three tall hoops stretching above them. Grass ruffling in a light breeze, lazy clouds drifted through the sky, occasionally blocking the bright sun. The American looked back at his team, giving a small smile before mounting his broom and kicking off, rocketing towards the clouds.
To his immense relief, the practice went well. The chasers were focused and every pass and movement was controlled, planned and coordinated. Only more focused than the chasers was Ludwig, saving everything except a few extra tricky ones. Alfred himself was almost completely absorbed in watching his team, not even bothering to look for the snitch and nearly receiving a buldger in the head for remaining stationary in the air, only a barrel roll saved from him form the redhead's pitch. Even from across the field, Alfred could see Connor grinning at him.
Finishing the practice and finding the snitch lurking near Alicia's foot and soaring for it, catching it easily, Alfred had the team back in the locker-room, nervously standing in front of them, carefully putting the balls away, locking the snitch in it's small compartment before turning to face them, taking a deep breath.
"I know I wasn't exactly the first choice for captain but I'm going to do my damn best to win us this game. We've been having a rough past few days and we need this game to get our house back in the running!" he smiled, "This is five years of flying with most of you and... This is some of the best practicing I've seen in a while. But Atthis is right... we can't get cocky or greedy, just look where that's gotten us this week. Gryffindor's supposed to be a noble and brave house and we're ruined that name this week. It's our job to turn that around. We are a great team and we just gotta prove it to everyone. So y'all are gonna fly your absolute best tomorrow and we'll show those Hufflepuffs what being a Gryffindor's about!"
With that, his cheeks pink, breathing a little laboured from the emotion and his little speech, Alfred turned, picking up his broom and marching out of the locker-room without another word. He still felt heavy from the pressure but there was also pride in his step, a sense that tomorrow was going to be a great game whether they won or not.
[ooc: YES IT'S CHEESY DAMMIT, BUT I LOVE ALL YOU SO MUCH AND I'M GONNA MISS GRYFFINDOR WHEN THIS WEEK IS UP. You guys can basically just post about your pre-practice concerns, the practice itself and reactions to the little silly pep-talk. Let's hope we do well at tomorrow's match!]
When: October 19th, afternoon
Where: The Quidditch Stadium
What: Gryffindor looks like it's down and out and it's up to the Quidditch team to get it back in the running. One last practice before the game might just be the boost they need.
Alfred had been sitting in the locker-room half-an-hour before the scheduled practice. His elbows were balanced precariously on his legs, the elbow pads cushioning the narrow bones. The laces of his armguards and boot were tight, almost numbingly so but Alfred's fingers were curled up in his hair, holding his head. His crimson and gold robes lay beside him, draped over the bench next to his Skyfire 2705.
All day, the pressure had only been building and building and building on his shoulders. From Gilbert's speech, to Atthis' harsh ultimatum and the general pressure of the house to get them points, Alfred was, for the first time, nervous. This was his first game as captain... What is they didn't win? And because of him? Not enough practices, too much practice, running his team into ground, no having a sense of team unity- the list went on and on and each spark of a new way to fail, to lose only made his fingers grip tighter.
Then he felt a hand on his head, whacking the back of it lightly, followed by a small reprimand of 'stop moping Jones'. Alfred looked up to see Ludwig walking by him, pulling his robes off and starting to change. Smiling a little at the German, Alfred nodded slightly; leave it to Ludwig to still be so stern.
Still trying to swallow the feeling of dread and as he stood up, finding himself in a headlock provided by a certain tall redhead. 'Don't look so down ya little shit, we'll be fine!' And before Alfred had time to straighten his hair, Vash had appeared, shoving plays into his hand, giving a curt nod before joining the other two boys in changing into proper uniforms.
Clutching the papers to his chest, he felt something very small attatch itself to his back and look around to see Peter there, giving him potentially the most serious look the boy had ever mustered. "We can't lose this match Jones! I need to kick Arthur's ass!" This was accompanied by a very weird smile before the weight was gone and Peter and ripping off his robes and pulling on his Quidditch gear.
Alfred sorted through the plays quietly while Alicia entered, beaming and bumping her hips to the captain's winking. "C'mon Alfred, it's just a game! And we're great at winning games~" He had to smile back at this slightly before feeling a punch to his arm and hearing a laugh from Elizaveta as she glided past him. "Ali's right Al, let's just hope you're better at catching Snitches than tomatoes." The two girls changed without really being bothered by the presence of the boys. Why would they care? They were a team.
Once they were all suited up, Alfred led them out to the field and they stood there for a moment, looking at the stands and the three tall hoops stretching above them. Grass ruffling in a light breeze, lazy clouds drifted through the sky, occasionally blocking the bright sun. The American looked back at his team, giving a small smile before mounting his broom and kicking off, rocketing towards the clouds.
To his immense relief, the practice went well. The chasers were focused and every pass and movement was controlled, planned and coordinated. Only more focused than the chasers was Ludwig, saving everything except a few extra tricky ones. Alfred himself was almost completely absorbed in watching his team, not even bothering to look for the snitch and nearly receiving a buldger in the head for remaining stationary in the air, only a barrel roll saved from him form the redhead's pitch. Even from across the field, Alfred could see Connor grinning at him.
Finishing the practice and finding the snitch lurking near Alicia's foot and soaring for it, catching it easily, Alfred had the team back in the locker-room, nervously standing in front of them, carefully putting the balls away, locking the snitch in it's small compartment before turning to face them, taking a deep breath.
"I know I wasn't exactly the first choice for captain but I'm going to do my damn best to win us this game. We've been having a rough past few days and we need this game to get our house back in the running!" he smiled, "This is five years of flying with most of you and... This is some of the best practicing I've seen in a while. But Atthis is right... we can't get cocky or greedy, just look where that's gotten us this week. Gryffindor's supposed to be a noble and brave house and we're ruined that name this week. It's our job to turn that around. We are a great team and we just gotta prove it to everyone. So y'all are gonna fly your absolute best tomorrow and we'll show those Hufflepuffs what being a Gryffindor's about!"
With that, his cheeks pink, breathing a little laboured from the emotion and his little speech, Alfred turned, picking up his broom and marching out of the locker-room without another word. He still felt heavy from the pressure but there was also pride in his step, a sense that tomorrow was going to be a great game whether they won or not.
[ooc: YES IT'S CHEESY DAMMIT, BUT I LOVE ALL YOU SO MUCH AND I'M GONNA MISS GRYFFINDOR WHEN THIS WEEK IS UP. You guys can basically just post about your pre-practice concerns, the practice itself and reactions to the little silly pep-talk. Let's hope we do well at tomorrow's match!]