Quidditch Durmstrang vs. Ilvermorny-Beauxbatons - Summer 2024

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Date: August 3rd, 2024	Word Count: 76/50	Outfit: Reducio An Ilvermorny Quidditch robe.

I was starting to panic. So many of our players were getting knocked off their brooms, and I was going to have to step in soon, I could feel it. I did not want to play in front of a crowd. My hate of all things wizard was coming back. "Oh, no no no." I whispered, feeling queasy. Please, Kaya, stay on your broom, I thought. Or else, I might throw up. This is a disaster.

Stats: Stamina 7| Evasion 7| Strength 3| Wisdom 6| Arcane Power 5| Accuracy 7
Abilities: The Muggle Condition
Broom: Nimbus 1001

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It seemed like it was an eventful game! And not necessarily in the best of ways for the Ilvermorny team. Hopefully their luck would improve. Although Louca's seemed to be going from teammates broom to teammates broom. He was knocked from Miles broom onto Nathan's. Once he felt comfortable on the broom, he looked for Miles, spotting him down below. Wincing, he felt bad about his earlier thought. After all, he could have gone down with Miles. Setting his mouth into a determined smirk, Louca focused on the here and now, saying a quick thank you to Nathan for the save.
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Durmstrang | Year 7 | Height: 5' 2"

Russian‏‏‎ | Swedish‏‏‎ | Norwegian‏‏‎ | English

As the game progressed, the pounding thrill in Greta's chest rose to an all-time high. It was hard not to be a bit pleased with having scored so well against the opposing team, and she had every intention of continuing that streak. Unfortunately, that trend would be (temporarily) interrupted as she received the signal from her Captain for aide. Jumping to the order, Greta moved into a position so that Niffy could grab hold. Straining with all the strength of a squirrel hauling nuts for storage before the first frost, she wheeled the boy around and loosed him in the direction indicated.

Red faced and panting, she took a moment to lean forward on her broom, eyes fixed onto his departing form. With his hand outstretched, she bit her lip, caught up in the tense anticipation of what could be the final moments of the match (so soon!), then let out a cry of exasperation as his hand closed on... nothing. Kicking herself for having just sat there, she wheeled her broom around and raced back to position. Just as Amina and Madhup were finishing their laps, it seemed. Holding a fist out high, she charged between them. "LET'S END THIS!"

Action: doing as strategised

STA | 5‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ STR | 1‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ EVA | 20 (24)‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ WIS | 12‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ARC | 12‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ACC | 20 (24)

Perfectionist | Calming Presence [Allies: Durmstrang] | Lovely Creature
Spell Spread | Wandmaker [Thunderbird] | Fearless

Oakshaft 79: +4 Eva, +4 Acc, abilities in reducio

Reducio

In the role of Chaser, as a free action if the user of this broom is successful in the quafflegrab they can as a free action pass the Quaffle to another user in an attempt to score. There is a chance of the quaffle being intercepted, however due to the fact that the user is "so fast" with the quaffle this would be considered "surprising" and the attempt to score would be done at +3 accuracy by the player it was passed to in an attempt to score.
(Note: The attempt to score would be an automatic attempt by the user that catches the passed quaffle.)

In the role of Chaser, if you have a contested quaffle grab and a contested strength roll between yourself and another user is in progress, unless they have the same broom, you would be the victor of the contested quaffle grab. In addition, rounds where you are successfully carrying the quaffle in an attempt to score, you only take half-damage from bludgers and blatching attempts.

If the following isn't allowed, the third selection will just be the other Chaser ability.
In the role of Seeker, if an opponent attempts to Bludger or Blatch you, there is a 20% chance that you veer out of the way the last second and another enemy player at RANDOM is targeted instead.
(Note: The new target still gets their normal dodge attempt. This is not considered to be an auto-dodge, in fact this roll is done before any accuracy rolls are done.)

norwegian ❅ russian ❅ english ❅ swedish

august 3 quidditch durm uniform + [x][x][x]

@ Durmstrang team @Ilvermorny-Beauxbatons team

then i could help you outrun yourself - come run again

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To the girl's eyes, Quidditch was one of the most beautiful sports. Other beautiful sports were bouldering, gymnastics, and dance. In a way, Quidditch was like a dance. Teams flying together, getting into known formations, more or less gracious. The Quaffle and the Bludgers flying around. And of course, the Seekers and their task, grabbing the Golden Snitch. It was beautiful. Her gaze had followed Greta, who reached to Valentin to help him. Now focusing on the seeker, her team captain, her mentor, she could see that he was reaching for the snitch. Still standing up in front of the bench, Astrid could not stay in place. She was literally bouncing with excitement, eyes glued on the white-haired boy. He had a hand extended in front of him, clearly catching the snitch, then he didn't. The little golden ball was not in his hand anymore. The game wasn't ending now. It was fine, though. Durmstrang still had 50 points in advance, and Ilverbatons had four players unable to fly. It was all good, they could still win. After all, they were Durmstrang. They will win.

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sta ● 11(14) | eva ● 9(12) | str ● 6(9) | wis ● 10(13) | arc ● 7(10) | acc ● 9(12)
fearless - obnoxiously strong - keen eye - charmer
charmer opponents ilvermorny-beauxbatons team
action benched
broom silver arrow (+3 on each stat)
post 1 - 2 - 3

threading as Johannes Sauer
speaking in russian unless specified

With two of their own on penalty laps and Ilvermorny-Beauxbatons dropping like flies, even a limited Durmstrang could wreak havoc on the pitch. And to think they were stereotyped as brutal cheats! Every one of their available actions this round was perfectly within the rulebook, if not with a dash of dramaticism. By now, clever spectators would have been able to pick up one fact: There were no “weak links” or easy targets in Durmstrang’s ranks.

Take their lovely #19 for example. A true rose among the thorns. Greta had become the shining jewel of Durmstrang by presence alone, just as capable of surpassing expectations as swaying stubborn tempers. Lacking in size and raw strength, she made up for it with personality, technique and sheer grit alone. The sheer amount of momentum she cultivated while launching Valentin only proved that. From the perspective of save-duty’s lower fly lane, their star chaser looked closer to a stray comet in London's fair-weather skies. Icarus-like, a silver discus reaching ever closer to the sun— only to fall slightly short of false confidence.

Shit, so close. No, shut up... things were fine. They were doing wonderfully so far, it was the snitch’s fault for being so slippery. If Durmstrang couldn't end the match now, they could at least monopolize all offered advantages. The riskiest gambit of their current strategy had scraped shy of success but at least it hadn't resulted in physical injury. A low bar… but a bar nonetheless cleared. The fleeting sparks of disappointment had no place in their current school sporting atmosphere when a single well-placed move could kill even giants. Though neither admitted nor seemingly acknowledged by their hybrid opponents, the seeker’s life on the line was a saviour’s most required priority. It was only fortunate that Valentin hadn’t been immediately chased after. Johannes had been burned too badly to trust the medics on site, but he could likely trust his Kapitän when it counted. Surprise slug attack and the albino’s own issues aside, their seeker had never failed them when it truly mattered. Today would be no exception. They just needed another chance, not to be limited by the clean expectations of a two-round victory.

If anything, this minor setback only bought Durmstrang more time to decimate Ilvermorny-Beauxbaton's roster. Slava was no Romeo, but there was still a certain flourish to his violence. Even injured, their #6 wielded a beater’s bat like a weapon, fuelled with the same tenacity and raw power as a natural disaster. Mere keeperhood could have never sat as comfortably on the other— not with this privilege of destruction. Toppling head over heels after each other like dominos, their opponents never stood a chance. "Three in a row— Slava, you're killing it!” Suddenly reduced to a mere 6 players, Ilv-Beaux’s lone saviour had only managed to catch one reedy-looking teammate as the danger passed. Small fry compared to their doomed beater, but it was too late to let the kid free and try again. Johannes’ own catch had been reduced to little more than an unfortunate stowaway but goddamn, what were the Americans feeding that kid to make him so equippable?

With 50 points in the bag and an increasingly juvenile opponent team, there was nothing more inspiring than seeing their enemy's morale drop low enough to reach the strange threshold of desperation. They were so well-demonstrated that any passionate fan could practically crow from their roofs. What good was remorse in the few taunting moments before a crash landing? Possessed with a bright-eyed smugness, it was no moral dilemma for Johannes to dodge falling enemies as easily as he sought to save his own. His job here was to defend the hoops and secure Durmstrang’s safety, not to fake niceties on the public stage. Adding salt to the wound was the closest thing to outright poor sportsmanship he could engage in without sacrificing their international dignity. “Let’s take it home, team. We’ve got this!” How demoralising was it to be brutally taken down one by one, as the guilty team celebrated for the world to see? Even if Durmstrang’s victorious war cries were lost in translation, the sheer determination and certainty could not be misunderstood. Winning was not an if-then statement— It was a “when we” situation and they were speeding towards success.

Action: As Strategized.

Mod Information

Reducio

Statistics: Sta: 10 | Eva: 17 | Str: 10 | Wisdom: 9 | Arc: 8 | Acc: 18
Broom-Modified Statistics: Sta: 10 | Eva: 21 | Str: 10 | Wisdom: 9 | Arc: 8 | Acc: 22

Abilities: Foulplay, Charmer, Evasive Maneuvers, Rapid Reviver, Blindvision, Wandmaker, Lovely Creature
Charmer Opponents: Ilvermorny-Beauxbatons

Broom Information: Oakshaft 79 (+4 to Eva and Acc)

Reducio

• In the role of Keeper when you attempt to block your goal, if your opponent somehow has advantage on attempting to score a goal, that is negated (they only have their normal single roll against you).
• In the role of Keeper a critical success on an attempt to block a goal not only means that the Keeper caught the quaffle but they have also successfully passed the quaffle (without a chance of interception) to an allied target of their choice. A critical failure in this case cannot happen for a Keeper, they get to re-roll the attempt to block.
• In the role of Keeper, if the Keeper effectively blocks an attempt to score rather than obtain possession of the quaffle they can kick the quaffle at the user who attempted to score. This must be declared at the time actions are submitted. This would have damage like a bludger using an accuracy roll to hit and the user's strength score to determine the amount of damage done. If the quaffle hits or misses the target, a quafflegrab the next round would be necessary to determine which team has possession of the quaffle again.

Completely focused on his own task, the rest of the match fell away for Slava, blurring into the background. He sized up every remaining opponent, choosing his targets and taking the shots in an almost calculating manner, and then he watched with satisfaction as person after person dropped from their brooms. A certain savage pride blossomed with each of these triumphs, leaving Slava basking in the glorious chaos of his own making with a small smile on his face. Something about his environment (Calming Presence) had also been helping him significantly today, though—for whatever reason, he felt very at ease, which let him channel all of his remaining energy and attention into performing his best regardless of that hard Bludger hit he had taken. Subsequent praise coming from Amina and Johannes only served to bolster Slava further as he prepared for the next moments of action.

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	It was no secret that Madhup was a hound for the crowd's attention, though it was one particular person's regard he seemed to be after today. "Hey, Durmstrang!" His eyes had snapped in the direction of @Dealla's Prince's voice, the sight of her turning his cocky smirk into a boyish beam. "Did you not get enough kisses last night?" Mad tossed his head with a laugh, caving to the callout and cupping his mouth to carry his voice: "Never!" That stupid grin lingered on until common Quidditch violence turned it into something sharper. Penalty laps went faster with company. He shook his head as Amina (@Ileen Knight) compared the blatched boy to a quaffle, ruefully glancing to the Keeper's rings. "I miss the quaffle sometimes, but it is so funny to see their faces when they realize they are going to hit the ground." Mad mocked a falling flier's brace for impact, twisting his face in an ugly expression that looked like someone who'd sucked a lemon. Greta (@Evelynn Decipio) came billowing between them, turning the atmosphere from chummy to ferocious again as she bellowed "LET'S END THIS!" Mad's teeth flash as he swayed between his fellow Chasers, encouragingly bumping both of their shoulders, then joined Greta's voice with a rallying howl. "DURMSTRANG FÖR ALLTID!" Their Presences mingled, encouraging and energizing, radiating to their team like twin suns. Yet as the girls sped on, Madhup instead lagged behind, wasting a few seconds to show off his trick-flying abilities. When he neared the same stands he had surfed by at the start, he pulled off a ridiculously risky move: swinging down to hang from his broom by a single arm. The Durmstrang's radiant red cape billowed dramatically behind him as he coasted past, the number 9 on proud display. His free hand flashed the peace sign (as much as he was still tempted to its opposite). Romeo's (@Piérre Marchonné) voice from below forced him to get his head back in the game. "Welcome back, Madman and Mimi! We're still on and not done yet, so give them Hell!" Right- no better way to showcase his astonishing talent than to actually go play. "Ja, medkapten," he hollered back with a sigh, a slacker sent back to the grind. He stopped dangling from his broom, pretending to do a few pullups before swinging his leg back over the saddle.
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Action: As strategized. Calming Presence allies: all of Team Durmstrang

Reducio

Broom: Varápidos, Special Action: Enganação. This literally means "cheat" and is a basically the art of sleight of hand for Brazilian Quiddich players. All subsequent attempts to cheat have a 10% automatic "not noticed by the spectators" effect. (Stacks with Foulplay)

(Standard) STA: 9 | EVA: 15 | STR: 18 | WIS: 3 | ARC: 3 | ACC: 19
(Varápidos) STA: 12 | EVA: 18 | STR: 21 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 6 | ACC: 22

Foulplay: 25% chance that fouls will go unnoticed
Interception: Automatic chance to Intercept a passed quaffle
Fearless: Immunity to fear effects such as terrible presence
Calming Presence: Allies gain a 10% chance to auto-hit their chosen target
Muggle Condition: +3 accuracy roll on non-magical attacks and actions
Martial Artist: gains access to Punch, Grapple, Kick, and Chokehold

Beautiful matching team banners by Winnie/Felix and Aida/Val!

Abilities Perfectionist 1 & 2 Evasive Maneuvers Muggle Condition Sta 10 (13) °▪ Eva 13 (16) °▪ Str 8 (11)°▪︎

Action Oh, ya know -- basically dying Silver Arrow (+3 to all stats – already added below) His Ency English || Russian Wis 11 (14)°▪ Arc 5 (8)°▪ Acc 8 (14)°▪︎

Stephen was nothing if not an optimist. He was not a walking through life with blinders on while purposefully ignoring the reality of a situation kind of optimist. Nope. He was definitely more of a pragmatic one. Pessimism, no matter how dire the situation, served only to make things worse, mainly because it stifled rational thought flat out and slaughtered self-confidence. Not a winning combo.

He had competed against himself every day of his life to make himself better in the areas most important to him (and had lost more of those battles than he could count). Some days he competed against others, like he was doing today. If he was paying attention to why progress had stalled, or had not even been made, in any training or competition, and more often than not he was paying attention, he knew that ultimately things would work out as they should.

Things working out as they should was not always aligned with things working out as he wished. Today, at this moment, nothing in his thinking was different. Assessing the situation, he left the quaffle altogether and determined an attempt to stop Durmstrang's Seeker would be his best move to help his team. They were being decimated and he couldn't, no - make that wouldn't - give in to despair. There was no time for it. And embarrassment or humiliation was out of the question; they'd never get that from him. Losses only fueled his desire to be better. Right now, there was only thought to do the next thing that needed doing. A post mortem, figuratively and not literally, on how to be better next time could do laps around his brain later.

He turned his broom from centre field and began to fly towards Miles' direction. Durmstrang's Seeker had a bead on the snitch and Stephen had a bead, even if temporarily, on their Seeker. He peripherally saw Miles get struck unconscious and fall from his broom, and Louca was going down too, but Louca, thankfully, was saved. The only thought Stephen had time for before being struck unconscious himself was to be thankful that Miles would not be aware of the world of hurt he was now hurtling towards.

Mere seconds later, he'd also be knocked out cold and blissfully unaware of everything as he, too, face-planted into the ground, not too far from his buddy. Spared the awareness of the physical pain, he'd also be spared the emotional trauma from the realization that the splinters of his beloved silver arrow were now sprinkled around them both.

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Reducio

To Ilvbaton: Keep fighting the good fight and good luck. Be the David to their Goliath!!!

To Durmstrang: While too short, it was would have been fun getting to "sort of - almost - kind of" play against you. Stephen leaves unconscious, but in absolute awe of your prowess. Just wow.

@Simon Kincaid @Emma Wynn