2023/24 Stage 2 Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw: Match 3

@Evelynn Decipio & @Pericles Dralt

House Colours: Hufflepuff
"Build your opponent a golden bridge to retreat across."

~ Sun Tzu

Healing spells were salt to the wound in the boy's mind. They didn't even have the strength to do what he wanted them to do. Didn't have the guts to prove that they were worth their salt as a team for eliminating the competition. But of course they weren't. They were smart, clever. Smarter than him, more clever than him. Better in every way than Piérre was in anything.

"Flipendo!" He called in desperation as white light flashed. A sting, a strike... something. Anything to remind him that he existed and that he wasn't just a ghost or a phantom of self. That he could touch, that he could feel, that he did have a presence in the mist and the voices and the mind that tore him down and made him the idiot. Some kind of mark that was real, some kind of impact, no matter how insignificant. Yew wood shivered in his left hand, his teeth bared in a pained grimace as his cheeks were bright red--invisible to all in the fog as they flushed with shame and with heartache--as his green eyes finally allowed the first tears to drip down his cheeks. His breath caught up tight in his chest... he felt like he wanted to throw up.

Surely something mattered... something that he was existed that made him matter... a life that he loved so much, that he so desperately wanted to live out and to make worthwhile; but what was it that was his worth? What was it in the trail of destruction that laid in the wake of his light and delighted footsteps, the disasters that his mere presence wrought around him--destruction of so many, destruction of those that he held close to him as well. So far apart and so estranged becoming only more estranged as time drug on--as he poisoned the well more and more and made it not only undrinkable but lethal to those foolish enough to imbibe.

The presence behind him, of Evelynn that he had tried to protect, that he had tried to stand up for--that he had betrayed and broken when he had meant to embolden. It only proved how little he knew of Evelynn anymore. This entire duel had proven how little he had known about anyone... about even how to perform the art of dueling itself. His entire body shaking, blinking rapidly to clear his sights as one half screamed to keep trying, to keep fighting, one part severed itself from his heart and tried to fly to Evelynn, another part fled to Pericles in the hopes that perhaps in at least him it could find some respite, and another part louder than all dripped its words through his mind like water into the earth, like groundwater finding a cave that was dark and hollow and totally empty...

'Scappate. Run [away].'

The boy's feet staggered for a second, his entire body pitching back and catching himself only barely on his feet. Tears returned stronger now, a shame that ran thick and heavy through his entire form like a leaden lethargy. Sill that voice cut through all others... 'Scappate. Run [away].'

His feet stumbled back again, as curls of mist began to clear away the Gryffindor side of the stage and enabling sight onto the side that at least one of the former competitors had been standing upon. A plea, a beg now would be useless after the display he had presented. Had he not begged enough already... or had his cries simply not existed? Perhaps his words were nothing but empty breath after all, worth less than a wailing--for indeed even a wailing would turn a head, perhaps...

But that was fair, he supposed. Ultimately his pains were not worth sharing, his tale was worthless compared to the pains of so many others. Comparatively, comparatively in the long run... comparatively his silence was what would help others most. His non-existence, his silence. If he was silent enough, others would heal. If others healed, he had done his job well. They could move on, and he would be there to usher them on. To stay behind, to be the corrupted heart that they had torn out in order to truly flourish. The rot that besieged the garden cut out with a trowel that pierced the Italian arum and cut it out by not only the roots but every seed that it had dared to drop upon the fertile earth. Nothing could be left behind, lest the corruption grow back twice as strong and twice as disgusting as it had been before.

He was... truly... truly he was... only a ghost. A phantom, and a shell of what he once was. Whatever it was that he once was, that was, if he was anything at all to begin with in a life that was like that of a spirit that walked abroad with no place it came from nor knew where it was going nor why it was where it existed currently... A shallow breath, a hollow moment, and a moment that was gone as quickly as it had come--leaving nothing, not even a trace. Not a trace--if it had existed to begin with, that was. For what could exist, if none knew it was present in memory or in person? If he could not touch, could not leave a mark... then truly... he was nothing to anyone at all. Hollower than his own heart inside his own chest, that cramped and claustrophobic cage of viscera bound in by bone...

If he were a Gryffindor... he was the most awful representation of one. No honor, no dignity, no self-respect or respect at all, no chivalry, no bravery... he was... nothing...

When the fog did clear, no matter what spells were cast by the Ravenclaw team, Piérre had vanished. No word, no marker of his vanishing... simply empty air.

Running Away Before the Fog Clears [Cat's Grace]
Calming Presence Allies: Evelynn Decipio & Jay Victoria

It looked like the Ravenclaw house could win this duel. He was pretty excited as the duel was getting closer to being done. He was doing what they had strategized. He spoke the spell clearly focusing his attetnion on Pericles. "Reparifors." He grinned happily as the spell healed his teammate. He was glad that it had been cast properly.

Stats: Stamina: 14
Evasion: 9
Strength: 9
Wisdom: 8+2 (10)
Arcane Power: 9
Accuracy: 10
Abilities: Lovely Creature | Statiscally Relevant | Broken Broomshaft | Catch | Advance Casting
Action: As strategized.

Dee shrugged at Julian's reprimand, not looking particularly sorry. She wasn't. "I don't think he wants help," she replied, unrepentant. What exactly he wanted, she wasn't clear on, and she doubted Piérre knew it himself.

But fine, perhaps continuing to rile someone on the verge of a breakdown wasn't the kindest thing to do. She could relent. They had basically won this duel anyway, and everyone knew it; she could leave the Gryffindors to stumble around in the fog. So instead of attacking again, he turned her wand on Pericles, casting a simple healing spell.

She almost missed Evelynn leaving in the wake of it, the fog on the stage still obscuring her vision. A moment of hesitation, then a nod, and Dee slipped her wand back into her pocket. A duel done, a duel won. Not a particularly satisfying one, confusing and a little disturbing, and still lacking the thrill she'd once so loved about duelling. But it was over, and she could respect the decision to forfeit.

For a moment, she tried to squint through the fog, to spot Piérre - she did think he needed help, although he likely wouldn't want it from her, and she wouldn't have known what to say, either way. So she turned away instead, smiling at Peri and Damion, offering her fist for a bump. "Well done, boys," she offered. "That opening was great." She never had lost her captain instincts.

Round 7

Perhaps Julian should’ve expected the Gryffindor boy to take his offer when he spoke it, but the boy seemed far too preoccupied with his own anxieties to pay very much attention to Julian, which is why–when the fog cleared and Pierre was gone, he raised his eyebrows in shock. Of course, Pierre hadn't actually said anything, so it was entirely possible (maybe even likely, that he would've disappeared regardless of what Julian had to say about it). Dealla’s remark seemed to suggest she thought so. Evelynn stepped off too, and Julian couldn't say he blamed her but her parting words had hardly been a concession (let alone the kind of sporting concession he would've picked) and they left him standing awkwardly with the Ravenclaw team, unsure of what to say.

”I suppose… you win. Congratulations.” He grimaced, glancing around, trying to catch a glimpse of Pierre around the club. Maybe he should go look for him. It felt wrong, to leave him alone. Or at least find a professor and tell them about Pierre’s breakdown. They'd probably know what to do.

Gryffindor forfeits. Ravenclaw wins.

Eligible for Rewards:
To be eligible for rewards, your team should have won the duel and you shouldn't be disqualified.

@Damion White
@Dealla Prince
@Pericles Dralt

Please link to this post in the trunk updates if you are eligible for rewards and wish to claim your +1 stat point from this duel.