camp '22 Summer Duelling Extravaganza, Match: 3

Manuela Macedo / @Aly Salinger | @Alec Mason

OKAY, stuff was happening. Because it was! Because there were three teams, and with three teams came three exponential things to multiply the chaos with. Because math worked like that. Elliot noticed the good stuff first, because if there wasn’t any good stuff, then there would basically be zero Elliot in the first place: he’d managed to disarm his target, thus securing his spot as the superior redhead of game. Of course, the wand hadn’t been thrown into the endless abyss never to cast another spell ever again, so he didn’t want to start the party too soon and waste all his hot pink glitter. Not when Manuela’s spell had been dodged despite its definite awesomeness, and not when the other girls had apparently done some Plastics-level coordination behind the scenes to blindfold her. At least she couldn’t be blindfolded twice over. Maybe. He wouldn’t put it past the population of Britain to summon the spirit of Henry VIII or something and get him to bend the rules of magic itself with his giant…guillotine. Yeah, giant guillotine.

“Dang!” He exclaimed, foregoing more vulgar language as if he hadn’t just decided that ‘rock them on their shit goods’ was their team motto less than a minute earlier. In his defense, he didn’t speak that language at all, and he had to be motivated going into a match if he didn’t want to end up as literal toast.

The boy on fire, who very upsettingly seemed ignorant to Alicia Keys’ 2012 hit and very quizzingly did not want to remake the iconic MTV remix performance in the middle of being burned, began to brag about his totally amazing state. Elliot couldn’t completely suppress his smile at the comments, if only because he knew they couldn’t be true. Believed they weren’t true, anyways, and that was enough when Elliot wasn’t the one being seared to medium rare. Possibly well done.

“How’s she gonna see how hot you are now, dude?” Anyone unlucky enough to hear the question–which would be just about everyone from the stadium to Stonehenge, with the way Elliot had taken Mrs. Jones’ admonishing in third grade of his outside voice being used inside as a personal attack–would be able to make out the truly absurd amount of heartfelt emotion in it. It was a proper shame that he didn’t get to fully figure out how hot the guy was outside of inferno-related contexts, but maybe some people could pull off the latest in steak fashion better than they tanned. Elliot wasn’t really keen on testing the theory out himself.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got this,” he said to his partner, unsure of whether or not she’d tolerate another ostentatious zinger from him in her current state. He’d do what he could to prove that theory to her.

Languages:
Portuguese (#147628)
English (#c2ffc3)

“What is mine is not to be divided, what is mine I will not share.”
—Madalena, by Elis Regina

Manu had pretty good vision, or at least she thought so. She had never needed glasses, unlike one of her younger brothers, Moisés; she could always read text from the back of a classroom and spot an unpleasant person heading her way from quite a long distance. So the fact that she was able to see for just long enough to watch the British girl in red, with long brown hair, dodge her spell with excellent nimble form brought a disappointed snarl to her face. ”Merda.” Shit.

And then the girl retaliated. Actually, so did the girl in blue. Manu watched in horror, almost uncharacteristically frozen, as time slowed; the girls waved their wands in the exact same motions, and black cloth erupted from the tips, tangling together in midair and heading straight for her face.

The girl from Brazil tried her best to jump out of the way, but she was too slow. The blindfold slammed into her face, and Manu stumbled backwards, completely blinded; her partner nowhere to be seen, the other duellists gone from her vision.


"Caralho!" Damn it! Manu cursed, her anti-wand arm flailing wildly in the air but hitting nothing. "American! We do not ‘got this’ right now!”

Action: as strategised

	@Elsa Veronica Bennett
|| Interacting with: ||	@Leonard Oaksworth (as Elliot Bexley)
	@Dealla Prince

ROUND 3

Alec and Elsa would decide to keep Alec on his feet as long as they could, which considering what would end up coming his way, might have been the best option this round. Elsa turned her wand on her partner, spraying him down with a mist and extinguishing one of the fires that ate at him. The second fire would seem to take a last bite out of him before fizzling away into harmless embers. Alec would turn his wand on himself, feeling relief wash over him with a purple glow.

Robert, frustrated at losing his wand, wasn’t about to remain unarmed for long. As he looked around, Robert would swiftly spot his wand and snatch it back off the ground.

Elliot had his sight set on the powerhouse known as Dealla Prince. She was making it very apparent that she was a force to be reckoned with, and she had no plans on losing. Even more so, while by just a hair, she would manage to get out of the way.

Dealla would turn her wand between Manuela, who had just managed to rip her blindfold off, and Alec. As Dealla called forth Ventus, it built at the tip of her wand a moment longer than usual. As the phenomenally cast spell released, it split from her wand and headed toward Manuela and Alec. However, in midflight, those wind streams would break once more. One headed toward Elliot, who dodged with his eyes already on the Ravenclaw. Alec, who had just been given a moment of respite, would find himself engulfed in a fierce gale. Manuela, on the other hand, would be slammed by not only the original stream meant for her but also the split from Alec. Thankfully, for Manuela, it would seem the force of the storm surrounding her was no different than if she had just been hit once.

OOC Info

1| You have 96 hours (4 days) from my timestamp to post a minimum of 50 words and owl me, Santario Martin, your actions. It is inadvisable to describe your actions until after the mod post.
2| Deadline Date: Monday, August 15th, 2022 EST. If you do not post or owl actions in the allotted time frame, your action is void.
3| Good luck, everyone and have fun! If you have any questions or see any mistakes, please do not hesitate to reach out via owl or discord: Santario#3981.

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@Elsa Veronica Bennett@Dealla Prince@Aly Salinger@Leonard Oaksworth

Even while still on fire, Alec couldn't help but chuckle as Dealla acclaimed to be his most ardent supporter, followed by turning the tables around, a fire pun. Prince had a sense of humor after all, perhaps he wasn't the serious studious type he mistook her for. Real revelations were for another day, not while he was in the middle of a duel. Playfully he would shake his head, “I suppose I could be my most ardent supporter, but it would be vain of me to not offer credit where it's due.” It would be a shame for him not to address the person who had at first claimed to be his most ardent supporter. “Besides, it's a nice claim, don't you think? A scintillating duellist and blazing cheerleader, I couldn't have picked a better biggest fan myself,” he spoke, gently teasing. She had made the joking claim of being his biggest fan, where's the fun in take-backs?

He heard a loud shout from the foreign team, the kid with the American accent(Elliot Bexley - aka THE BEX). Something about the girl on his team(in this case Manuela Macedo, which is where @ aly becomes relevant) not being able to see how hot he was with the blindfold. Alec was still obviously playing into an act, he could be more than over the top with his response. “Mate, I'm on fire, the hotness and heat radiates off of me,” speaking the Gryffindor chuckled, glancing down at himself and the state he was in from what best he could see. “I'm also smoking, surely the smell of a burnt duellist robe is enough to convey a point.” SUrELy it had to be. If it wasn't enough to convey a point, it wouldn't be Alec's loss merely an another being incompetent. “The blindfold is but a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things,” the Gryffindor waved a hand in dismissal of it. A problem which had not been a problem to begin with. “Even if it was I wouldn't be worried; she's not the only one who can think I'm a piece of eye candy.” Alec smirked winking at the boy and turning his attention from the social aspects of the duel to the strategy filled point.

Less fire thanks to Elsa but it was still going to be rough to get through the duel. He murmured her a quick thanks for helping put some out. Alec wasn't exactly built for dodging, of course he'd end up becoming a target. Though his playful look fell every so often, switching between whatever mask he could muster a pained expression would slip through the cracks every so often. Nothing as reactive as he'd first been, enough fire and he could be desensitized to it enough too avoid from hissing out in pain, the reminder he hadn't duelled in a while.

In his distraction a ventus would hit him, a spell from none other than Dealla. He would grin, despite his losses, the disappointment of having a spell hit him. “See my point exactly, a scintillating duellist. Perhaps It should be reversed, I ought to take the role of your number one fan.” He spoke with the same teasing playful attitude as before, though his compliments towards her seemed oddly sincere.

Reducio

Still a little miffed about having wasted her previous spell, Dee decided to follow it up with another demonstration of her newfound abilities. It felt incredibly satisfying, being able to use them in duels after all the time she'd spent training herself to split her spells, and she'd make sure that others remembered it. Just because Robert was wandless for the moment didn't mean they couldn't send two spells at the other teams anyway.

First though, Elliot was making another attempt at rocking her Downton Abbey - or so she assumed - and she just barely managed to twist out of the way, close enough that she could feel the spell rushing past her. "Almost got me!" she called over to him, cheerful, and clearly not too worried. "Maybe next time?"

Alec, meanwhile, kept leaning into the fire puns, and Dee lightly rolled her eyes, raising her wand. "Ventus," she spoke, guiding her wand in a fluid motion, and could immediately feel that she'd done something very right with this one. While her spells were usually solidly cast, the disastrous failures that had marked the early days of her duelling career now far in between, it was rare that a spell felt this natural, this perfect, magic singing through her. Thus, what she threw at her enemies weren't just two blasts of wind, no; what had meant to be one projectile for Alec and one for Manuela quickly turned into four, the additional gusts turning towards both of the visiting duellists.

It took focus, coordinating this many attacks, but Manuela was an easy target at the moment, and Alec seemed to be distracted by his ongoing stream of fire puns... or possibly the actual flames licking up his clothes, it was hard to tell. Three of the four blasts met their intended goal, only Elliot managed to dodge, almost as narrowly as Dee had just escaped his attack. Still - seventy-five percent was a decent quota, and Dee hummed in satisfaction, her wand warm between her fingers.

"Finally acknowledging my superiority?" she asked Alec, lips drawn into a smug smile. "Took you a while, but I suppose being on fire does not mean you need to be very bright."

Elliot Bexley (@Leonard Oaksworth) | @Alec Mason

Manuela Macedo / @Aly Salinger | @Alec Mason

ONE day Elliot Arthur Bexley would break. One day he would lay so horrifically hollow on a floor, making snow angels in between life-wasters strewn across linoleum to numbly succumb to his personal hell. One day he would open his mouth to find that he had been wholly emptied by one tragedy after the other, stealing away fragments and shards of his biting quips until there was nothing left to say. One day he would realise that life was not an episode of Glee inspired by a Magical Alternate Universe fanfic Ryan Murphy read in 2010 up until the point where the use for the Rachel Berry Slander tag became clear. One day he would realise that saying any of those words in any non-digital context would cause his eternal exile from society. One day he would realise that he desperately needed to get a life outside of knocking people unconscious for fun, playing the free games on, and spewing out such unbiblical words at the speed of which Brazilian Portuguese swears came out of Manuela Macedo. Today was not that day.

“Nah, man, of course we got this,” Elliot replied to the girl’s exclamation-punctuated declaration that they supposedly did not, in fact, got this with a crooked smile that spelt ‘super supportive cool dude guy who’s totally going to lead you to victory’ to him and probably would’ve spelt ‘look at all these teeth just waiting to be punched right out’ to her if she had the ability to see. Even if her blindness lasted until the very last second of their sporting duties, he figured that she had the right to punch him in the teeth as soon as the duel was over with the vague illustrations of positivity he was constantly trying to draw. Annoyance was just a side effect of being around him, and if she couldn’t get that, then they didn’t have to do anything with each other after they got their win.

Unfortunately, the only thing that Manuela got was a bunch of wind in her face. Painful wind, which was a term he could’ve been better at hiding his amusement at after witnessing the effects so closely–and just nearly avoiding experiencing them himself. A single spell cleaved into quarters, and he was wrong and right in all the ways he didn’t want to be, which was a feat he could’ve been impressed with if it hadn’t blown up all his plans. Pun intended. Was it moral to be thinking of puns right now? Was it smart to be thinking of puns right now, when Prince had escaped his dance party by nothing more than a few inches?

His attention was stolen by the incredibly eloquent response to his functional wolf-whistling. Morals and smarts could be put on hold for hot dudes. Hot dudes liked that, according to several totally accurate movies. He wasn’t going to help the hot dude get any less hot, after all, he was just appreciating the handiwork of a gene pool whipped straight out of the casting for a Pride and Prejudice adaptation as well as the contrast of jawline to a burning body when washed in purple. One of these less so than the other, though the difference was marginal at best.

“Confidence in eye candy is always a winner.” He had unkempt hair the shade of spaghetti and flame, Confident Eye Candy was an apparent magnet for fire. It was meant to be. He could picture their rousing romance in a flash. He’d make quick work of the rest of their opponents, making prolonged eye contact with Mason as he hobbled away with half his leg turned into a sea turtle. He’d approach the other after he’d recovered from his wounds and woes, making a deal to sneak out every night and get more practice in. He’d lean in accidentally on purpose while reviewing the movements for only the most intimate incantations, i.e. Slugulus Erecto. He’d swear they could make long-distance work by the end of summer, promising to send owls every day. He’d be wrong because the owls got really tired, and the little match boy would go and find some Victorian sweater vest connoisseur to rebound on. He’d cry to vocally fried independent bedroom pop sampled from the mating songs of blobfish and order a copious amount of Swiftie-adjacent merchandise from Etsy.

Elliot was supposed to be doing something else. Right, fighting for his life. He could do that, wand in hand and half-baked strategy in head. He could also do that with his wand in his hand and no strategy in his head, which was great.

Robert did the only thing he could; search for his wand. Robert had never been claustrophobic, but he this feeling was similar to how he'd heard it described. It felt like he was forced to follow a single path through a dark forest, without knowing where he's going.

When he picked up his wand, he immediately felt better. He was through the forest, he had options once again. With a relieved grin on his face, he began thinking about his next move.

ROUND 4

Elsa turned her wand at her partner, who seemed unable to catch a break in this duel. A purple light would radiate around Alec, making him feel a little bit better as he watched his opponents like a hawk through the gales surrounding him.

Elliot turned his wand at Robert; it was clear that was his intended target. However, the spell zigged when it should have zagged, heading towards the Gryffindor side instead. Luckily Alec had already decided that he would be the target of the round, whether intentional or not, and evaded the rouge winds. It was unclear if Manuela was far too distracted by the winds surrounding her or if she also intended to dodge but, either way, it didn’t help her.

The menace Dealla was still at large, her wand landing in the same air space as before. Alec and Manuela were her victims of choice. Another fierce wind shot from her wand, splitting itself before Ventus usually would have. Alec was bound and determined not to be hit this round, and he would keep that streak as he dodged out of the way. Manuela would not be so lucky; her attempt to evade was clumsy, causing her to stumble right into the immaculately aimed spell. Just as her winds started to die down, a new force would engulf her, more potent than the last.

Robert, with his wand securely back in his hand, looked over at Alec. Ready to make up for letting his wand be taken from him, the Eagle raised his wand and incanted. The bolt of blue came hard and fast, blazing brighter than average, headed straight for the lion, who was not willing to be caught by the devastating knockback jinx. Unfortunately, Alec’s luck had run out for the round as the blaze slammed into his chest. His feet would leave the ground, and momentarily Alec would find himself suspended in midair. What goes up must come down, and if Alec wasn’t already educated on the concept of gravity, he would be when his body slammed into the grass.

OOC Info

Mod Note| My dog is having stitches removed on Monday. So, if I don't have the chance to mod on Sunday it will happen on Tuesday.
1| You have 96 hours (4 days) from my timestamp to post a minimum of 50 words and owl me, Santario Martin, your actions. It is inadvisable to describe your actions until after the mod post.
2| Deadline Date: Sunday, August 21st, 2022 EST. If you do not post or owl actions in the allotted time frame, your action is void.
3| Good luck, everyone and have fun! If you have any questions or see any mistakes, please do not hesitate to reach out via owl or discord: Santario#3981.

Duelling Spells

Duelling System

Newest Patch

Spectator Thread