Stark Manor 2

[Tristan Drage]

"Okay, since you're all that have showed up, this is one way we can play," Tristan started. "There will be two teams, each having one chaser and one beater. Both will try to score on Lief, who will try his hardest not to let them in. He'll also be the scorekeeper, and keep track of which team has what points." He grinned broadly and stupidly, and added, "Garett will try to catch the snitch, and the team who scores with the quaffle right after the snitch is caught will recieve those points. Am I making any sense? We'll play five rounds, and the team with the most points after the fifth round wins."

 

[Sammael Stark]

Sammael began tossing the quaffle up with his left hand. "Do we have bludgers?"

 

[Gregory Goyle]

Goyle held up the black ball in his hand. "Right here," he said, tapping his beaten up bat on his leg.

 

[Sammael Stark]

"I suppose now the only question is who is going to be my beater?"

((WOW that sounds SO dirty.))

 

[Tristan Drage]

Tristan sniggered like a fourteen year old, but stopped when Sammael glared at him. "What? It sounds dirty," he explained sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. Being drunk reversed his normal way of thinking quite a lot.

 

[Sammael Stark]

Sammael sighed slightly. "Well, I suppose I can take the drunken one, unless you want him Arcturus?"

 

[Arcturus Tanner]

"No, that's fine, I'll take Goyle," Arcturus laughed. He knew that Tristan was an excellent beater, but didn't want to chance it when the man was in such a state.

 

[Tristan Drage]

Putting the half empty bottle of vodka on the ground, Tristan swung his leg over his broom, vaulting off into the air quite clumsily. "Now who's going to start it?" he asked stupidly.

 

[Lief Sigurd]

Lief took the quaffle from Sammael, and said, "I'll throw it up in the air." He jumped onto his own broom, flying alot more smoothly and fluidly than Tristan, and waited for the others to follow suit.

 

[Gregory Goyle]

Goyle flew into the air as the others did, holding the bludger, waiting for Lief to throw the quaffle into the air. Then, he would smack the bludger as hard as he could. Hopefully, he would knock the drunk off his broom. That would be cause for some humor.

 

[Sammael Stark]

Sammael admitted to himself that he was slightly tipsy, but refused to admit it to anyone else. Seeing Tristan fly so poorly sparked something inside him and he walked over to where his cousin had left the bottle of vodka,picking it up and removing the cap. "Bottoms up," he said and tilted his head back, drinking in the remains of the bottle. Bringing his head back to level, Sammael let out a nice long sigh. It had been some time since he had drank like this, and the wonderful warm feeling was present in his stomach.

"All right then," he said, smiling giddily. Sammael mounted his broom and flew up into the air, surprised at how well he handled the broom despite how he was feeling. He looked to Lief, waiting for the quaffle to be thrown.

 

[Lief Sigurd]

With a nod to both the chasers, Lief threw the Quaffle into the air, not even waiting for its descent as he vaulted off to the nearest hoop.

 

[Gregory Goyle]

Seeing that the quaffle was released, Goyle threw the bludger, whacking it as hard as he could at Tristan, and moved over to protect his own chaser.

 

[Tristan Drage]

The Quidditch game was short, and surprisingly, the two drunk men were the obvious victors. Their impairment apparently didn't count in the game, and taunted an embarressed Arcturus and Goyle long afterward.

They were dreading what was going to happen in a few nights, but at least they had had some time to kick back, which was a rare thing for a death eater.