Meeting of the Hogwarts Teams (Open to all Players and Subs)

Ne'os stepped forward "i would be honored to have you as a teacher" he said then stepping back.

Abbey looked over at Ne'os, and was glad she wasn't the only one stepping forward to say something. She gave him two thumbs-up and smiled before turning back to Professor Warton.

Elv ran to the pitch and saw there are already gathered some of the team's members. She stopped next to Abbey and tried her best to talk. "I'm sorry, I'm late..." she said in a tired voice. "And hello everyone..."

Seeing Mari, she had shrunk back even more, as she was about the only person who she knew would remember her. Looking at the teacher after that, she had raised her hand when he asked if anyone had caught a snitch before. She loved the challange, therefore having tried and succeeded multiple times, even if she had never been the seeker before. Practice games didn't mean she couldn't, nor just practicing alone back at her house when she was a younger child, or teen for that matter. "You as a teacher? Sounds good." she muttered, as being the only one not too would be a little rude- not that she ever cared who thought she was rude, and who did not.

Keith made a vain grab at the snitch while it circled around his head, and then decided not to pursue it. He was a beater, not a bloody seeker.

As the new Quidditch professor talked, keith let his mind fall into his blank monologue routine. But this speech was actually interesting. After Mordecai had finished, Keith felt tempted to step forward and shout: "STUDENTS! WHAT IS YOUR PROFESSION?!" But he decided against it. Instead, he planted his beater's bat firmly into the ground and grinned.

This was going to be awesome.

What. The. Hell.

Selwyn was late to meet this new coach, because he didn't know there was a new coach. Had anyone owled him about this meeting? Well, yes, but it was Aminia, not unpronounceable-name-man and that was one strike against him.

As Selwyn got closer, he saw the guy had let the practice snitch out of the box. A seeker? Or just someone who thought the snitch was the key to the game? Or maybe it was supposed to be a lesson. Lame.

The guy had a voice on him. Selwyn could already hear him explaining who the hell he was, and how great his tiny little team back on his tiny little island was. If it had been a student, Selwyn would have been eyerolling by now.

"Yeah, but it's school quid, ain't it?" he said. "Staring death in the face sounds way cool, but we're not allowed to do it, are we? I mean, most of us are pretty good fliers. But the house cup gets won on whose parents can fork over the most for a racing broom and which house has the best strategy."

Ginevra rolled her head at this guy. Did he seriously think that brooms mattered? Personally, Ginevra did not think that the team with the members who had the best brooms would do the best, not even close. She knew for a fact that you could have a crappy broom and be one hell of a player, or you could have a very expensive broom with a player that couldn't play for his or her life. "It all just involves strategy, not who has the best broom." Ginevra spoke up, shaking her head at him.

Keith shook his head. Nobody got it. Brooms weren't important, they didn't make the player. Strategies were all nice and good in the planning room, or during practice, but during the adrenaline rush of a real game it all got blown to hell and you just have to work on getting to quaffle to your playmaker and finding the snitch.

"Wrong, both of you." He said, stepping forward. "The team that wins is the team that is able to cheat the most without getting caught."

"Well I'm glad you lot aren't throwing rubbish at me." He chuckled as a few students came forward to say a few words. He could feel their gazes as they studied him and he knew he wasn't going to win them over with a few fancy words and a faint sleight of hand. At least he hoped he wouldn't. Even though they were students each and every person in front of him was a player of some degree and Mordecai respected them for it. Many witches and wizards in the world loved the game but how many of them would actually mount a broomstick in order to participate in a serious match? How many of them were that dedicated?

"Brooms and strategies. A very important topic that I'll get to later. You," he pointed at Keith who was easy to spot being the youngest student in the group, "remind me before we leave here today. I took a bludger too many to the noggin' and I have a bad habit of forgetting things at times."

Mordecai's ears actually pricked forward under his hair when a voice in the crowd called him out.

"You there. What's your name?" He asked as he scanned the students to see who had spoken up. He had been waiting for someone to say something of the like and the lad had made a good point about the ideals of school Quidditch. "Thank you for bringing that up. I'm glad you did. Quidditch is Quidditch mate. Allowance has nothing to do with it. It doesn't matter if it's practiced in a school pitch like one or in the Grand Arena itself. The same rules apply to the game and the same accidents and blunders can happen. You don't need to be a high-velocity Seeker to break your neck."

He ran a hand through his hair, a habit that he could never seem to break, as he mulled over what he was going to say next. Should he go on about the rules of the game and how important of a role they played or should he just tell it like it is as if they weren't a bunch of students but fellow team players? Maybe their old Quid coach would do the "safety first and the history of the game" routine but Mordecai didn't buy that. They may be young but they weren't idiots. Far from it.

"Look, I know you all didn't come here to listen me rag on until the end of time about Quidditch this and rules that. Quite frankly I don't want to hear myself either. Yes I do talk a lot and but just bare with me a moment longer because this is important." Mordecai held up a hand before he folded his right leg over the handle and slid off his broomstick. What he was about to say was important and not just a load of hot air and he hoped that they would remember his words of caution in the future. It just might save their lives.

"There is one thing you must always remember about this game and even about flying in general. Every time you take to the air you are in fact taking your very lives into your own hands. It doesn't matter how good of a flier you are. Even the best of the best have ended up missing limbs or worse. A broomstick does not think for itself. You are in control and must remain in control at all times. Even a half-second slip up could make all the difference between a close call and a closed casket funeral. Accidents can and will happen. Rules are applied in order to keep you lot safe and must be obeyed but they won't stop you from plummeting like a stone if you get knocked off your broom."

Morbid? Yes. The truth? Most certainly.

"I am not here to hold your hand and tell you that everything will always be all right and that nothing bad will happen. That right there is a load of tripe and you know it. I'm here to teach you not just how to hit a bludger or the fastest ways to get the Quaffle through a hoop, but how to survive up there when you're going at a 60 miles an hour while the elements have turned themselves against you and you can't see two feet in front of you because of the all the rain. Quidditch is a lot like life folks, shit happens and we have to know how to deal with it the moment it does."

Mordecai regarded the group with a somber expression before he clapped his hands together and rubbed them expectantly.

"Now that I've managed to thoroughly depress us all, let us cut the chatter and do what we came here to do eh? Let's play some Quidditch."

Enough talk. Now it was time to see what this group was made of. He hoped he hadn't bored the lot to tears but he had to make sure that each and every one of them knew what they were getting themselves into.

"Mount your brooms and organize yourselves into groups according to the position you play! Keepers with keepers, chasers with chasers and whatnot. At this moment in time your houses do not exist and whatever rivalries, however good-natured they may be, are left in the dormitories. You are all one and the same in my eyes and I want to see what you can do up there! So let's take to the sky and see how well you can fly. HOLLUP!" He cried and his voice carried across the pitch as he motion for them all to mount their brooms with a sweep of his arms.

Now the real meeting could begin!

Ne'os mounted his thunderbolt and shot up into the air "Beaters with me i guess eh?"