Christopher Barros

(USED 16)

Christopher was forced to have mandatory fun unlike Emma, who was forced to take finals #crieverytime

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Alejandra Verle

"I can't do this, I can't do this," I repeated over and over with my voice wavering, "I. Cannot. Do. This,"

The ground below me was swaying before my eyes as I trembled on my broomstick. I could just imagine it coming closer and closer as I fell until my body crashed onto the hard Earth. My knuckles were white as my skin dug into the splintered wood of my broomstick. The captain, a French girl, had nominated that myself and a girl called Vendetta be the Keepers of the team. I didn't want to disappoint her and say no, so I went along with her choice without saying anything but I had a feeling that the whole team would hate me when I messed up.

"You seem to be a bit shaky there," Vendetta smirked as she spun on her broomstick with ease, "It's a lot easier if you just go with the broom, you know,"

It's also a lot easier to do it without thinking you're going to fall ten metres, I replied in my mind but there was another reason why I couldn't quite focus.

"Mmmhhhmmm," I replied distractedly as I wobbled. My heart lurched into my throat and I squeezed my eyes shut quickly but it made me feeling as though I was spiralling towards the ground. I opened them I stared down into the jungle below me feeling as though I could still hear Ahri's screams.

Last night, Ahri and Ailenia had saved me from the trickster spirit and then I let Ahri down by letting her go. We were running after Cerise when it happened. She disappeared between some bushes and when Ailenia and I followed her, she was gone. It wasn't long before we heard her screams. I'd never heard something so loud. It pierced my ears like a wail of a mermaid out of water or like a screeching cry of fear – blocking my ears didn't drown out her screams, it only made it louder. Her voice was everywhere but nowhere at the same time and it made it so frustrating to try and find her in the shadows of the jungle.

I could still feel the goose bumps on my arm from her shrieks and now I could only hope that they found her. I wasn't sure whether I'd rather her leave wordlessly like Chenzira or whether I'd live with her screams haunting me in my sleep. Both made me feel equally as guilty. Ailenia and I hadn't talked since. It was as though the creepy encounter had separated us. They had saved me and then I had failed to save one of them.

I hadn't slept at all last night and now I was balancing precariously on my broomstick in a game that I hadn't played in three years. I felt utterly alone when the leaders announced we would be playing Quidditch. I used to be quite good at it but then I became focused on forming relationships to keep my reputation alive. I was the social butterfly of Castelobruxo and it felt odd that I struggled to form friendships when I wasn't pretending to be so shallow – I had to let all my walls down on purpose to make everything work. When I needed her most, Ailenia has blocked me off as soon as we ran out of the jungle without Ahri.

I thought I felt terrible when Chenzira left but there was a worse feeling. I couldn't name it; sadness, regret or guilt. They all consumed me so much so that my body felt sluggish and weary. As if riding a broomstick was heard enough, I had to do it with the weight of Ahri on my shoulders.

"Tsk! Excuses, excuses," Gracie's arrogant voice tutted in my mind.

I shook her from my mind causing the whole broomstick to shake under my body. The leaders would find Ahri, just like Faraji had announced this morning. I set my shoulders straight and took a deep breath feeling the broom stabilise.

"That looks much better," Vendetta commented but I couldn't reply. I was focused on watching the Quaffle that was released from the green grass and up into the blue sky signalling that the game had begun. My eyes searched for the other team as I watched a boy catch a bludger and zoom through my team mates. I could only recall the basics about Quidditch, but as the Keeper I knew that I only had to stop the balls from going through the hoops and everyone else would take care of the rest.

Vendetta sped off beside me, heading straight for the boy but he quickly bypassed her and I felt a knot of nervousness form in my stomach. I had to save this for my team. I watched his path as he zigzagged towards me and anticipated the ball as his arm moved to throw it. I flew to the left to kick the ball away and felt it hit my foot before it went through the goal.

Pain erupted up my leg and I mumbled a curse word as I clutched my foot. I received a bunch of dirty glares from my teammates. I wiped my eyes, feeling warm tears rub off on my hand, and took a shuddering breath. Pins and needles buzzed in my foot making my foot feel just as big as the Quaffle.

Useless! I shouted in my mind.

When we had walked to the clearing this morning, I had walked alone. Wandering through the jungle in the daylight had been refreshing but as soon as I came to the clearing I realised that I couldn't do this. I couldn't play and be forced to let down people again. I had stared from the sideline clutching my broomstick in my hand. I could hear their laughs from my spot, just like I had when I was watching the little girl, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt to watch on. It hurt to see everyone get along so easily while I stood outside of the field and outside of their world.

I remember Faraji walking up beside me and asking what was wrong. I remember replying that I'd already disappointed so many people that I didn't want to do it again in a game that I couldn't play.

"Couldn't or can't?" he had joked.

"Both," I muttered with all seriousness.

"I think you will find that it is much easier to learn something when you have friends to do it with, even if you did only just meet them," Faraji had winked at me before walking away to the group.

Sitting back up in my positioning as Keeper, I struggled to understand this concept. Vendetta reappeared beside me but the dirty look she had given me earlier had disappeared.

"Don't tell the broom what you want to do," she said suddenly, "It works better when you feel it,"

I nodded in reply and prepared for the next competitor to rise. This time, I spotted the ball flying towards the goal and, without thinking about the broom, I leant forward and sped forward. I took the ball in my right arm, feeling it hit my ribs with impact, but the smile on my face took away the pain. I quickly passed the ball to the French girl, who was the captain, who quickly sped on.

I cheered as a boy scored a goal for our team. I followed Vendetta as we rushed forward in celebration and we high-five in a chorus of cheers. I'd almost forgotten that I was on a broom.

"Let's do it again!" one of them shouted and I joined the roar as we headed back to our positions. With my nerves seemingly evaporating the game became far easier and I finally understood what Faraji had said. It was easier to do something in company than it was to do it alone. But I still felt some part of disappointment which the ache in my foot constantly reminded me.

Vendetta and I made a good team as Keepers. She would chase and I would block. I learnt that using my broom to deflect the ball was much easier on my body than catching it but it also didn't go towards my team mates – but I was just happy because I had only let three goals through.

"Adra!" Vendetta cried and I followed her finger to the bludger coming straight for me. I barely had time to scream let alone put my hand up in defence. I dropped my body causing my broomstick to flip up and I felt the splinters dig into my hand as I dangled metres above the ground. My heart was thudding in my chest and a refrained myself from screaming as my feet flailed about in the air.

I didn't rely on anyone to help me – I knew better than that – so I began to swing my body back and forth allowing my hands to bring the broom in a horizontal position. I heard something behind me and my feet touched a small platform. I could only assume that it was part of a broomstick.

"Jump," a voice ordered, it sounded vaguely familiar.

I jumped up feeling the stability of the stick drop away as I pushed off and I managed to straddle my stick and crawl back up into a sitting position. My heart was still pounding as my rib cage and I lifted my hand slightly to find that I was shaking. I looked downwards as I noticed a movement to my left and realised that the owner of the voice was Ailenia.

She balanced on her broom without a care in the world and I smiled at her as she broke into a grin. All of a sudden, I felt as though we were back together. I wasn't sure if that's how friends worked. Did they come back just as quickly as they had left?

"Thanks," I smiled softly at her.

"That's what friends are for," she shrugged simply, just like she had when she saved me from the trickster, "I'll see you back at camp."

I'll see you back in camp.

The grin spread on my face like a Cheshire cat. I had no idea what had just happened, all I could do was watch as she zoomed away back to her team with her hair trailing behind her.

Friends.

I shouldn't have accepted the silent treatment, I should've stepped up to be there for her because I knew I couldn't face both Ahri's and Chenizra's departure alone. I waved at her across the field and looped back around to my position in front of the ring. I was still learning with friends, but Faraji was right when he said riding is easier to learn with friends.

"You should fall more often if you can come back riding like that," Vendetta chuckled.

"I think I've done enough falling for one day," I laughed watching Ailenia move effortlessly across the pitch.

Now I'm climbing back up. But I wasn't quite sure from where.

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Ailenia Cirirano

Ailenia had always been a hopeless dreamer. It was the way she thought and acted that pushed her to reach for the impossible, despite the lack of reward in return. It was evidently clear from the way she gazed towards the quidditch pitch that being athletic could be the biggest dream she could muster. Her heart was the first thing to race out of sync with her body, her thoughts not far behind in a mix of fear and angst. Her eyes spot the gawky expeditioners that huddled on the trimmed pitch. Each of their afraid faces peer through the murky air; an eerie reminder that she was no different than them.

She had forgotten that she was still the same pathetically toned, scrawny girl that was as awkward as she was shy. Her eyes let the tears stream down her face as she hesitantly grabs her broom by its smoothed tip. Her shaky broomstick swivels towards the northern corner to find coverage. However, as the bludger curves around Elspeth's lanky body, she finds herself unable to escape the ball of death flying straight for her.

The flying orb cuts viciously through the air as it weaves through the tree than like pitch. Its rounded edges look seemingly harmless at first but as Ailenia watch it build in speed, her thought immediately turned to running . The padding that puckers from underneath the leather binding pokes through the cracks in the stitching. Her mind begs for her paralytic limbs to move yet as she stares down the approaching ball, her hands refuse to let up their white-knuckled grip. As quickly as her voices cracks into the air, her arm falls dead under the thrashing blow. Her fingers shifting in and out of feeling as her body moves sluggishly towards her team's side of the pitch.

Her only working arm tries to balance the weight yet as she dips every so slightly to the ground, her broom spins dramatically from underneath her gawky body. Her mind compels her to pull up as she spitballs towards the ground. In a whirlwind of crushed hope and unachieved success, Ailenia's disorientated eyes focus on Elspeth's body floating heavenly above. Her hair basking in the light that trails through the cloudy painted sky with her wicked smile and horror that bursts from behind her eyes.

It was a fact that Elspeth reveled in the attention that she managed to draw from others. Yet, as Ailenia's body propels through the air in a blur of radiant brown, her body leans back in astonishment. Her broom whizzes back towards the hoops that lie in the west of the pitch, muttering all sorts of curse words that only the British would fully understand. With the center pitch scarce of people, the bludger finds itself a new victim as it sieves through the long streaks of grass risen from the ground. It catches a glimpse of hair and as it soars through the sky, Marielle's daring moves are eventually outmatched by the wavering ball. The courageousness that she once wore proudly across her gleaming face, drained away with her rosy complexion.

"That oughta sting," Alejandra's voice carries through the air as her body leans in and presses against Ailenia's hunched back.

Ailenia tries to focus her eyes on Marielle's pained body lying sprawled across the green grass when a scream ruptures the air. Her head turns in angst, her thoughts instantly turning to Alejandra. Yet, as it looms closer to her ears, anger seemingly replaces the initially mournfulness the voice once possessed. Ailenia cocks her head across her shoulder, grasping tightly at her broomstick as she watches a domestic break out between Tamara and Aimèe breaks out across the field.

Her broomstick, presumably oak from its faded colour, scrapes across the side as Aimèe's deadly gaze shatters Tamara's concentration. Aimèe's baby blue eyes flicker with coldness as whatever mental shield that Tamara had onced built up comes crashing down around her. The fabric that lines the stalls breaks away from it's holster, landing in Tamara's petite hands. The temptation breaks from her glassy eyes and as Marketa's scrawny body whizzes past, Tamara's fragile body yanks the cloth in Aimèe's direction. With her eyesight compromised, Aimèe's body reluctantly pulls away from the chase, with only the rage that follows serving as a reminder to never cross a pissed off Bellemont women.

Aimèe's eyes track down Tamara's oddly coloured robes as the perfectly timed bludger ricochets of her baton, leaving a hollow knock to burst into the air. Ailenia's quick to flee, her heels locked into one another as her torso folds closer to the broom's main body. Panic rattles Ailenia's body sending her body into a frantic flutter around the pitch. Visions that once haunted Ailenia burst to life as the cries that shriek into the air a cruel reminder of the beatings she once took.

"You can't escape now Tamara, you're mine now!" Aimèe's banshee like voice cuts harshly through the air.

Ailenia's head jerks from a blank stare as her eyes fixate on Adrienne's brute like body closing in on Tamara.

Her skin crawls with jealousy, her eyes lit with the cruel ideas she had planned and as her breath caresses the back of Tamara's neck, a wicked smile creeps onto her lips. Tamara's body collapses under Adrienne's presence, barely able to whizz away seconds away from been thrown off her broomstick. Ailenia wasn't far off her trail, with the prowling eyes of the maniac sisters soon to follow

Her posture had since improved since the start of the games, her mind more focused on the game at hand. Her body naturally curves through the thin foliage that backs onto the course. Under the protection from the saplings, Ailenia's eyes peer through the thin slits through the wall of branches. Horrified at the sight of Adrienne's hand battering the bludger in Tamara's direction.

By now the game had reared its ugly head, with the obnoxiousness chanting of the winning time floating through the air. As Ailenia's body breaks out from the flimsy wall of shrubbery, her body is thrashed by Elspeth's lanky arm. She breaks away from the tree line, her breathing thrown into short spurts of uncontrollable wheezing. Aimèe's body floats past, with each swirling movement, the shadows would mirror beautifully below.

"Give it up Cirirano, you're just as bad as the others."

Her words echo through Ailenia's body, shaking her body to the core. The plastic wrapping of her coat parts from her chest, falling in a ruffled fashion to her wrists. She lets the air flow through her body, as if the vast openness would inevitably mask the her doomed fate. For the seconds that Aimee's words penetrate the murky air, Ailenia's mind can't help but fixate on the gawkiness that she once loathed. The moments that brought her to knees, picking up the pieces of shattered dignity bursts from her thoughts. The feeling of disappointment sweeping across her body, causes her hands to locked tightly onto the wooden pole. With her eyebrows furrowed together, Ailenia's shoulders bash into Aimèe's. Her eyes flicker with angst, yet as Aimèe's body teeters off balance it breaks from it's perfect stature.

"Don't test me."

Ailenia's voice had never seemed so cold. Yet as her voice slithers through the air, the adrenaline that courses through her veins stops her from feeling guilty. Tears begin to drip down Aimèe's chiselled jawline as the tender parts of her inflamed arms burst with ravishing reds and painful pinks. Ailenia's eyes flicker with the hatred that she had onced stared into as a child.

Her body breaks from it's slumped position as Ailenia sweeps past the wounded girl. Her fake tears sweep to the side of her puffy cheeks, her childish eyes searching for her sister. In seconds, Aimèe zooms towards her sister; proof that Aimèe couldn't fight her own battles. Within seconds, both Bellomont girls race towards Ailenia's body.

"You can't attack a player, FOUL," Adrienne's voice batters through the air.

"She messed with the system!" Aimèe's pathetic attempt at a sturn voices cuts through her sister's words.

In the moment the sisters catch Ailenia's tail, her mind breaks away from haunting childhood memories. Her heart refused to stop thriving under pressure. Her eyes constantly flicker behind her in fear. The girls begin gaining until the rattling off their broomsticks against Ailenia's sends her into a complete state of panicking hysteria. Her body cowers in the face of overwhelming power as an idea appears quickly in her head. Without thinking or rationalising, Ailenia's body loops through the air, leaving the girls astonished as their bodies pass by below.

Her legs bare the pain of maintaining her posture upside down, her hands shaking as their grasp loosens against the wood. Her lips perched into a smirk as she blows a simple kiss to the girls that fly underneath. With both kisses caressing two very pissed off faces. Aimèe's words break through the air in an uncontrollable rant. For once she wasn't the rebellious star with nothing to lose.

Without realising it, Ailenia had broken away from the child she once was. The gawkiness had shed away with only the beaming confidence left in it's place. Perhaps she wasn't the awkward girl that she had accepted to be a long time ago. Everything and anything runs freely through her mind, only to be interrupted by a horn blasting from center pitch.

A gold orb explodes from the man's hand, it's wings flurrying through the air and around the riders that stare in astonishment. Ailenia sets her eyes on the shimmering trail that flows heavenly behind the snitch and with it, the determined Markèta that races after it. She brushes Markèta off as her body finds it impossible to find its own balance. Ailenia veers through the maze of competitors carefully to take the most impressive and angelic path possible around the dumbfounded Bellmount sisters. Her hands near the edge of the glistening ball of hope, yet as she slips her hand around the metallic edge, she finds herself knocked over balance.

"You can't cheat the system!!," Aimèe's voice shatters Ailenia's hearing.

Ailenia's body dives towards the ground, taking momentum from the air that sends the surrounding banners into a flapping frenzy. Her hands reach for the shimmering ball once more, with it's wings collapsing into itself. Her lips pinch themselves into a smile as Ailenia's body surpasses Aimèe's. Her angered voice breaks into the sky, but as the others began to regroup after hopping off their broomsticks, Ailenia's mouth opened.

"F*** the system."

Her voice had never been so powerful. So powerful to make the biggest competitor crumble in rage leaving behind the confidence for Ailenia to mop up. It was true that Ailenia wasn't a true warrior. It was true she was the brains rather than the brute. Her body soars through the sky, her hands knowing what it's like to waver through the folding waves of air that swerve around her broomstick. There was nothing that could break her from the success that coursed through her veins. Her body takes it's final lap before landing near the chest that harbored the bludger. Its mirrored top was something that compelled Ailenia to pay attention. That, and the success bursting from her eyes that stared humbly back.

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Kamaria Sehene

Kamaria had never been one for Quidditch.

Watching it was fun enough, she'd grant it that. She'd had an enjoyable enough time watching games from the stands at school. But watching it from a seat was a far cry from playing it.

She didn't even like flying on brooms that much, unless it was to capture an otherwise unreachable shot. That was the only benefit that could possibly outweigh the sheer discomfort that came from being seated on a broom.

But Farajii had said, with no lack of firmness, that this Quidditch tournament was mandatory. It had to be, to get Kamaria on a broom. She wouldn't do so otherwise. Even after only three minutes of riding on this thing, she already felt a wedgie building up.

"Tommi you're the first Beater," ordered the Hogwarts girl who'd been assigned to be captain of Kamaria's team. "Verle, you're the second, and Sehene, you'll be the last."

Automatically Kamaria's nose wrinkled up. Of all positions in Quidditch, being a Beater had to be the least desirable. It was so blunt and brutal. Important, undoubtedly, and crucial to the success of the team for sure, but violent. It was Fana's favorite position, of course.

There was nothing wrong with being a Beater, she supposed, if that was one's passion or skill set. But the types of people that tended to be Beaters also tended to be thugs. Kamaria was no thug.

But it wasn't as if there were any real reason for Kamaria to put up a fuss about the assignment. She wouldn't be much happier if she were given any other position in the game. She also wouldn't be any better. What difference did a position make, if it was only for one game, which she didn't want to play anyway? No difference.

"All right," Kamaria mumbled.

She flew through the air to join the other Beaters. Mildly she wondered if they could see how uneasy she was on a broom. In the same thought, she acknowledged that she didn't care.

"Head to left field," boomed one of the Beaters. She couldn't remember if this one was Tommi or Verle, but obeyed the command.

At least left field felt less windy. Less chance of her falling off of her broom. That had to be a plus.

Then again, maybe if she fell off her broom, the game would have to end. She might be tempted to contemplate the thought further if not for the likelihood that such an exit from the game might also be an exit from the mission.

Who would have thought that the most painful part of this expedition would be a game of Quidditch? Not her.

"What are you doing?" One of the Beaters on her team shouted at her. "Broom pointed toward the other end of the field for start off. Everyone knows that!"

Obviously not everyone.

Kamaria spun her broom around in a circle until at last she slowed it to a stop pointed in the proper direction. Cerise blew a whistle. Kamaria tensed, but all the players around her flew into action.

Where were the balls? There were like twenty balls in Quidditch, right? Where were they all?

A whooshing sound warned. Kamaria ducked her broom down. A heavy ball rushed past over her head.

She grinned. That was a pretty good dodge, if she did say so herself.

"What are you doing?" The witch that had assigned positions flew in front of Kamaria.

"I avoided the ball," she mumbled.

"You're not supposed to avoid the Bludger! You're supposed to hit the Bludger! You know, beat it? Hence the name Beater?"

"Er, yeah."

She rolled her eyes. "Haven't you ever played Quidditch before?"

"No, actually."

"That explains a lot."

The witch flew away and Kamaria had to press her lips together to suppress the temptation to stick her tongue out. That would be childish. Instead she satisfied herself with imagining she had stuck her tongue out.

A light tinkling brought her attention back up towards the game. A golden ball fluttered in her line of sight for an instant, and flew away. Kamaria didn't have to be a Quidditch player to know what it was. The golden snitch.

She glanced around at the players floating around her. Where was the Seeker? They could grab the Snitch and free the rest of them, namely Kamaria, from having to go through this pain any longer.

There. The dark haired Durmstrang flying casually near the ground. That was the Seeker of Kamaria's team.

Kamaria flew down to her level. "Look by the stands," she warned under her breath. She could see it whizzing there now.

The Durmstrang didn't spare a glance for her or the stands. "What are you talking about?"

"The Snitch," she hissed. "It's in the-don't look now, it's moved to the trees!"

"You should move to the trees!"

The breath moved out of Kamaria in a huff. She soared upward. The wind blew her hair around like she was a wild animal. Another reason to hate this game. Well if the Seeker wouldn't end this game, she would.

The Snitch was flying over the field now. Kamaria flew for where she knew it was going to be. Exhilaration rushed through her veins, bubbling her blood. Her hand reached out perilously across the distance. Her heart dropped to her stomach at the imbalance.

Her hand closed around the smooth golden ball. She dipped low and shoved the Snitch into the hand of the Seeker.

Cerise's whistle blew. As Kamaria came to a landing, the captain of the other team stormed over.

"You can't do that!" He protested like a baby. "You're not the Seeker."

"But the Seeker touched the ball," Kamaria retorted. "There's no rule saying I couldn't touch it first."

"Just because it's no official rule-"

"Enough!" Farajii stepped between them. "This is unorthodox, yes, boy there is technically no rule against it. The win is valid."

Kamaria smirked. Maybe she could play Quidditch after all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kazuhiko Tommi

(USED 16)

"A few minutes later, the toast came flying out his mouth and landed on my plate, covered in blood, as the handle from the toaster had split Bob's throat. I then pulled out the toaster, and threw the re-frozen slices of bread at the heads of Sayber and Shase, as the bread hits their temple with such force that it kills them on the spot. Never underestimate the fox." ~ C. A. Kersey, the 4th Writer Games

Honestly what the fuck Carl *drags self for a 16*