Cerisier vs Montagnard: Round II

The second game almlst always brought cold weather, this year was no different. Though it was not snowing, it felt as though there were a blizzard happening at that very moment. Bundling up was much needed and she expected everyone to dress for the weather. She hoped that the weather wouldn't get in the game, she was sure it wouldn't. But she hoped that everyone would perform their best despite the cold weather.

As the teams entered the pitch, the professor smiled brightly at them. "Try to stay warm," she said. "Don't let the weather keep you from performing your best." She fixed her scarf so it wouldn't fall off as she talked. "Shake hands and let's get this show on the road." She released the balls and blew her whistle.

Fiona grinned at the coldness of the day. "Mabel I think I'll be stuck to my broom so no worries about falling off this time." She hadn't fallen off the last game either so she wasn't worried at all. She could do this. Maybe not score a goal but at least catch the quaffle. That would have to satisfy Mabel for now.

She pushed off without her eyes closed. That was getting easier to do and perhaps by the final game she will have perfected the art of getting off the ground in style. "Got it," she called as she flew in after the quaffle only to have it bounce off her head. "Haven't got it," she corrected herself. "Someone else get that quaffle. Montagnard I mean."

Montagnard: 0
Cerisier: 0

Fane was not, by any means, a Quidditch buff. He was actually surprised he had passed his announcer's audition years ago when he thought it would be a brilliant idea to become an announcer in order to get with some of the players on the quidditch team. Though he still agreed that the quidditch teams harbored some of the school's most attractive individuals, Fane still found himself bored most times at games, and when the cold weather settled in for the winter game of the year, Fane regretted his decision even more.

"Thank your lucky stars for clear weather today," Fane started. He was used to announcing during near flurries of snow. This was a nice break, though it appeared there might be a storm coming. "However, it still managed to be one of the most brisk days of the year. Imagine that. If you people in the stands think you've got it bad, imagine how those on broomsticks are going to fair." Fane continued, rather bored. One could tell it was a slow game when all Fane Blevins had to talk about was the weather. However, it was incredibly hard to tell who was looking good or not when all players were as bundled up as they were.

Montagnard: 0
Cerisier: 0

Trent hummed as he walked out towards the pitch, enjoying the soft kiss of winter's air. He sucked in a deep breath. "What a marvelous day for quidditch." He hopped on his broom and smiled looking down at the initials at the end: GAA. Guenevere. Aerona. Ainsworth. His girlfriend. His motivation. Trent lightly kicked off the ground and soared through the air to the starting position. It was nice to be truly excited for a game.

Once the whistle was blown and the quaffle ended up his way. He kicked it off his instep into his hand and zig zagged towards the Montagnard's goal posts. He grinned and bared down on the keeper going as fast as he could. As expected he seemed not to intimidate the keeper which was very much to his advantage as he casually underhanded the quaffle into the right goal post.

Cerisier: 10
Montagnard: 0

Milan was still dissatisfied with the outcome of the last game. Sure it hadn't been her fault, but she wasn't going to let Trent steal her thunder now. Of course, winning came first, her other personal goals were secondary. This time was also much colder, but she didn't want to rely on anybody to stay warm.

"Come on guys," she said, gritting her teeth and flying in the direction the Quaffle was headed, blocking a Montagnard player. She almost fumbled it but held on and kicked off to the goal posts. For some reason the dire weather boosted her confidence, especially when she saw the cold Keeper who didn't have anyone to huddle by. With a smirk on her face, she threw the Quaffle in a nice high overhand arch and watched it sail towards the post.

Cerisier: 20
Montagnard: 0

It was the second game of the season and Mabel had no doubt in her mind that her team would perform their best. They had been training and training for this. "Remember to stay on your brooms and keep warm," she told her team. "Its freezing out there and I don't want anyone worrying about that. Just stay warm and do your jobs." She gave her team a once over before leading them out of the locker room and onto the quidditch pitch.

She shook hands with the other captain and hopped onto her broom. As soon as the whistle blew, she kicked off the ground and zoomed after a bludger. She was disappointed that the first goal didn't go to her team. "Come on guys, don't let the cold westher get to you!"

Cerisier: 20
Montagnard: 10

Philip was rocking on his heals trying to keep warm while waiting for the game to start. After the last match, Mabel put him through more practices and training. He was determined this game to prove that he wasn’t the worst player on the team. And he wanted to impress Charlie, like really impress her. Which meant, he actually needed to score this time around.

The game began and the teams kicked off the ground. Crap. Cerisier was already in the lead. Ugh. Mabel was going to yell at them for that one. But that only gave him more motivation. He watched the Cerisier chasers, the girl threw the quaffle to one of them and it had a more downward arch. Philip zig zagged forward to intercept the throw. He was a bit excited when the quaffle landed in his hands. Now was he chance. He zoomed towards the Cerisier posts and once he was closer, Philip threw the quaffle which arched towards the posts. He’ll admit he closed his eyes, but quickly opened them when he heard the ding. He actually scored.

Montagnard: 20
Cerisier: 20

After the last game Stephanie wasn't feeling very confident about her leadership abilities. Her team had lost again. This time under her captaincy. Not anyone else. "Just do your best," she advised her team before leading them out to the pitch. What more could she say? Nothing.

She pushed off the ground and took her place above the pitch. It was a waiting game and Stephanie hoped that this time she would catch the snitch. There had been too many misses over the past few years and she would dearly love to go back to the snitch catching dynamo she'd been back when she first made the team.

The scores so far were going Cerisier's way. The chasers weren't the reason for the loses. She could blame the beaters. Christine, for example, had only just learnt how to hit a bludger without dropping the bat. But Stephanie lay the blame squarely on her own shoulders. Her job was to catch the snitch and she'd failed every single time. It was obvious her first year on the team had been a fluke with all the snitch catching she did back then.

Cerisier: 30
Montagnard: 20

"You must keep away from there," Christine called out to one of the Montagnard chasers and hit the bludger their way. "Stephanie I am becoming very talented at this." In her talk about her much improved skills she failed to notice a bludger coming right at her and had to duck to avoid getting hit. "I seem to have..." She abruptly shut her mouth and flew her broom at a bludger. Again she managed to hit it toward one of the Montagnard players. It may be colder than last game but Christine was really enjoying herself now. Never again would she be afraid that hitting a bludger at players was unladylike.

Cerisier: 30
Montagnard: 30

The weather was starting to take a turn for the worst. Gusts of wind were blowing over and her aim with the Quaffle was getting less accurate. It was a tie so far, she couldn't stand ties, there was no such thing as people having the exact same level of skill with each other. She gritted her teeth when she saw Montagnard score because of her mistake, how much longer was she going to be a mediocre player? Aw well, now it was payback. She lurched forward and intercepted a throw from one of the Montagnard Chasers, she didn't know who, they were all enemies to her. Milan grabbed her broom forward and threw the Quaffle, making sure it had  a high arch, and watched it sail into the goal posts.

Cerisier: 40
Montagnard: 30

Rene couldn't believe this was his second to last time ever announcing a Montagnard quidditch game. And it was bloody fucking freezing. "And because the staff of Beauxbatons doesn't have enough ice in its collective soul we are here as Montagnard trails Cerisier forty to thirty as the cold air continues to bear down on players and announcers alike." Rene had been truly cold before. When he was about five until he was about ten his apartment hadn't had a heater of any kind. Well, it technically had one, but the landlord couldn't afford to fix it and neither could his family. So, often they'd take old clothes (that could no longer pass as hand-me-downs and knit them into quite possibly the most amazing makeshift quilts to ever exist. They were always warm. Especially with several people curled up under one, but Rene didn't have that life anymore. He hadn't since he'd begun attending Beauxbatons.

Rene kind of broke out of his reverie without realizing he was even in a reverie to begin with.  "So...uh...Motagnard trails, but I can't help but wonder for how long. They have annihilated Cerisier for years now and thankfully new captains don't change much.

Cerisier: 40
Montagnard: 30

The chasers were doing well, Stephanie noted as she shivered above the other players. Of course it was the seeker which decided the match and Stephanie could feel the pressure tightening like a noose around her neck. She needed to catch that snitch. Cerisier had too many losses over the past two years. She needed to redeem herself.

She continued to watch both pitch and scoreboard tensing as Montagnard passed Cerisier by one goal. Now. She needed to catch that snitch now. Then she saw it but so had the Montagnard seeker. Stephie gritted her teeth as she lowered her body against the broom whilst headed for the snitch. A bludger came her way and Stephanie had to move or be hit. "Damn," she muttered angrily to herself as the snitch was caught by the Montagnard player.

Stephanie felt like she'd failed even more this year than last year. Last year she'd just been the seeker. This year she was also the captain. A captain who'd led her team into defeat. "Sorry everyone," she muttered once the team were all back on the ground. "Montagnard may have won the cup this year but we have at least one game where we have a chance to break their winning streak." One more chance this year. If they won it would be a hollow victory but if they lost again Stephanie would feel compelled to hand in her captain badge and make way for a new seeker on the team.

Cerisier: 40
Montagnard: 200