@Elsa Veronica Bennett@Dealla Prince@Leonard Oaksworth
@Robert Toukmond(Robert, you're mentioned and spoken to near the end of the post

The smug smile Dealla wore only egged him on, it was practically shouting at him in encouragements to continue, and he would. “While there is a reason I'm on fire isn't there?” He could take a few hits both spells and words. Words in this case could scarcely affect, maybe he should have let it affect him a bit more considering their history, considering his actions. It bounced off of him. He could be dumb, strangely enough he had grades that said otherwise. Although those felt like two entirely different things. “It's certainly not because I'm the sharpest tool in the shed.” He joked, playing into her words.

The kid with the American accent mentioned something about confidence in eye candy always being a winner. His words would score a fair amount of laughter out of the Gryffinder. Who he had sobered up from his laughter would grin widely and quickly shout back a “you know it,” there was a fast-paced worry in him a want to focus on the duel, not get distracted. It was far easier said then done when by this point Alec had taken off the blindfold, he was able to lock eyes with the other and slowed.

“Correction, you would know it,” his eyes gave the American kid a quick once over, “you're living proof of it.” Alec had never understood the emphasis people put on a person being good-looking when they were interested in them. Having a pretty face isn't a thing people get to pick, what does it really tell you about a person? Confidence was an attractive trait, Alec didn't mean it in a romantic sense though it could be. Confidence was an attractive trait in relationships in general. Confidence was magnetizing and confident people, their confidence could help in being a good friend.

The round went somewhat smoothly, Alec was worried about the condition he was in, he focused on dodging, he thanked Elsa as she made an effort to heal him and paid extra special attention to Dealla as the spell coming his way would be dodged. “You ought not to get too cocky Prince, vanity isn't a good look on you.” The Gryffindor was still smiling his eyes friendly, his tone playful and teasing. He would have found it ironic he he hadn't acknowledge the fact he was only saying it to gently tease her, the lighthearted kind of talking this duel needed.

“I preferred it when we were just handing out compliments, didn't you?” He asked, still teasing, a most obvious to the bright comment, in the end he didn't care if she implied anything and wanted to take the time to tease her, and perhaps his recognition of it was enough to realize his silently giving props to her. He had been quietly enjoying her brightest pun yet. “You're lucky I have always liked the story of an underdog,” it was spoken to at first reference the spell of hers that had missed him this round, though subsequently it would end up meaning more.

“The taste of victory would be sweet, not only having lost two duels to me,” Alec spoke to Dealla, he paused for a moment, a reflective look reached his face, a tight frown would suddenly be worn on his lips. For once within the duel his eyes shown of something more than his playful attitude, hints of remorse flickering through them. “As Knight pointed out,” the words came out practically spat as if speaking about Henry Knight left a bad taste in his mouth. Despite his realization long ago that part of his hate towards Knight was misdirected; a bitter envy towards what the boy had that Alec lacked. Anger towards the hand of cards life had dealt to him.

What was not misdirected was hate towards the way Knight felt the need to act as if he were better then people who did wrong even once. His did wrongs right back and let himself feel justified in it. . . Maybe he was. Alec could remember the searing pain of being punched. The embarrassment and anguish when he said he would not stand to the side if Henry dared harm him a second time, and Alec, he let it happen again. He didn't fight Henry. He didn't duel Henry. All but a sorry soul being stared at, laughed at, all as a flipendo reached him in the Great Hall.

Alec didn't dwell on it long, he didn't pause on it long, it only felt like a long period within his head though it had been only a few seconds before he spoke again. “You also had to endure my rather... egregious comments throughout one of those duels.” Why was he doing this here? He had said sorry before. Alec couldn't ever be sure if it had been resolved, or if Dealla cared at all. Alec had a touch for the dramatic didn't he? He would insist on finding a way to make duels interesting without fail every time. Not caring about about the possibility of embarrassment. With luck they would have no onlookers to witness the duel take place aside from them, he knew better than that though.

Alec knew by now not to let pride be the thing that stopped him and get into the way of him doing things. “Actions of being a certifiable arse to you that deserved more than a comment or two about not being the brightest.” There it was. He knew how awkward he was likely to be making the duel with this... Had he said everything? Well, maybe not everything.“Prince, you and Toukmond better stay around a while after the duel so I'll be able to shake both of your hands.” Good sportsmanship, nice, as if he didn't know what good sportsmanship was beforehand. Whatever, it was one of those things that made him feel better.

Out of the corner of his eyes Alec had seen where Elliot had been trying to aim his spell, ventus, and then Alec had seen where despite his best efforts, it ended up going towards Alec, who had fortunately been able to dodge the spell. “Someone seems a little distracted,” Alec called out; teasing the American kid. Alec was able to manage a small smile when he spoke to him. “You might wanna pay a just a slight bit more focus to the duel,” he spoke, implying the other's focus had been elsewhere, specifically Alec. In the end he doubted that was true, still, why would that stop Alec from taking the freedom to make assumptions? Especially when those assumptions were positive towards him. “I love the attention but I'd hate to be the reason you keep missing your target.” A simple solution to the projected problem was to make Alec his subject, Alec didn't dare mutter that out loud, it was going to be how he was to end up jinxing himself.

Within Alec being distracted a flipendo from Robert would hit him. A strong flipendo, knocking Alec off his feet. Even while it hurt Alec would break out into laughter for a third time since he'd started to count. In a dramatic display Alec fanned himself with his hand as he was on the ground and turn his gaze up towards the Ravenclaw team and to Robert. “I fear Toukmond has done a spell as absolutely breathtaking as him, and in all the senses, metaphorical and literal, has managed to sweep me off of my feet.” He wasn't sure how much longer he'd last in the duel. He was currently in a vulnerable position. “I know you're jealous of him, Toukmond. You don't have to take it out on me and literally sweep me off of my feet,” Alec joked, playfully he would dramatically speak in a 'woe-is-me' tone. 'Him' in this case meaning the kid with the American accent(Bexley).

Reducio

Manuela Macedo / @Aly Salinger | @Alec Mason

USUALLY, giving someone a taste of their own medicine entailed either matching up whatever the medicine was or managing to put a spoon into the target’s mouth, but Elliot’s handling of the English language was comparable to putting a thunderbird in the care of a newborn. Neither thunder nor lightning had been summoned by his latest failure of a foray into knocking out two wings with one stone, for it had instead become a storm whooshing right past its intended and unintentional targets. He allowed himself a half second of frustration, just a little bit of time to unfashionably whine when he was barely being affected in proper American fashion, and went back to his knockoff Peter Parker just as quickly. In scientific terms, Bad Vibes did not do winning good, and Prince was doing a good job of making Bad Vibes blow through his very quickly improvised battle plan. The sensible conclusion was that he needed to be twice as positive, a pole so charged with electrical optimism that all hexes were repelled and returned right back to their owners.

Elliot quickly came to the other sensible conclusion that Manuela must’ve cracked open a case of his socks in the presence of the wind gods, because she seemed to be attracting cyclones left and right now. Maybe the chatterbox candy’s strategy had been to wait and see which of the international students seemed most flirtable, distract them with his smoldering charms, and then impart his bad luck onto the other. It wasn’t a bad strategy per se, perhaps something Elliot would’ve done if he wasn’t picking up pretty well on the fact that everyone else was too busy cooperating and focusing to entertain a minutes-long courtship. Even so, he was able to catch a few of Mason’s other comments: mini-speeches to Prince and just about nothing that would help him.

Distracted, he was then called. There was no way he’d be admitting it in the midst of a bona fide audience, much less in the middle of an ongoing duel where nobody was down yet, but he’d long been aware of how much he was aware of things. Awareness got lost in translation at some point, wrung wrinkled and wrong through the worst dryer in the world and ending up five sizes shrunken on the other side. Keeping things even between what he should’ve been thinking about and what he was thinking about was difficult, more difficult than doing without considering the consequences. Then again, he hadn’t idolised Star Wars the moment he’d gained the gift of sight and the cheapest cable subscription available to just give up on balancing evil, good, Sith, Jedi, concentration and cockiness.

That was it, then. No more distractions. No more distracting Manuela with his well-meaning pom poms, no more terrible puns based on his terrible perception of European media. To resist the urge to get a word back, however, would be to resist the influence of sitcoms on his very wiring, and so Elliot replied to the Gryffindor’s (admirably terrible) pun about being swept off his feet.

“Oh, no, I’m down to share.” He laughed, grateful that he hadn’t shared either of the powerful jinxes aimed at. A breezy road to victory ‘twas not the tale he would be telling to any tent member that would listen, it looked like, but it was going to be an enjoyable one as long as he didn’t let his guard down.

Dee clicked her tongue in disappointment when the repeat performance of her double wind jinx did not prove as effective as the original; the cast was solid but not as perfect, and while she managed to hit the Brazilian girl with yet another gale, Alec managed to slip out of the way. Barely. Perhaps because she'd had to direct two spells, but just as likely it was due to the incessant chattering of the two boys... ignoring that she tended to talk just as much during duels. "Anything's a good look on me," she replied flippantly, never mind that she usually didn't spare more than a glance and a half for the mirror each day. Truly, she was arrogant more than vain.

The mention of their past encounters on the duelling stage earned him a slightly more tense smile, it was a sore spot despite it all. But she let the smile grow, complete with sharp teeth. "Feel free to rest on past laurels," she suggested brightly, flipping her wand around her fingers. "I've learned a trick or two since then, as you maybe noticed."

But Alec wasn't done mentioning their previous duel, and she blinked, trying to figure out if he was apologising - again. Dee had a short memory for things like this; while she was often petty, she got her revenge and then quickly forgot about past slights, with some few exceptions. The words spoken almost a year ago didn't draw her ire anymore, although this didn't mean she would cease her relentless mockery, or that she wouldn't pull them out of the metaphorical drawer to throw at him when it pleased her.

Before she had decided how to reply, however, a particularly powerful spell from Robert's wand knocked Alec to the ground, and Dee paused for a moment, then giggled down at him. "We'll stick around, assuming you're still standing at the time to shake anyone's hands."

Robert received an impressed smile and a thumbs-up. "Great comedic timing you got there."

@Alec Mason | @Robert Toukmond

"Prince, you and Toukmond better stay around a while after the duel so I'll be able to shake both of your hands."

Robert was slightly shocked to hear his name called from across the piste. He'd heard the banter between teams, but as much as he would have loved to join in, he'd never been the best at asserting himself in conversation. Normally he just hung around listening from the side, feeling lonely despite the people around him. However, the simple act of including his name when addressing his teammate changed the full dynamic for him. Suddenly he was dragged into the conversation, and he couldn't have been happier about it.

"That's a bit optimistic, you being able to shake our hands by the time the duel is finished don't you think?" Robert said with a laugh, and then immediately flushed red as he regretted it. He'd never been very good with playful banter, and always worried that he might accidentally cross a line. As the saying should have gone, "Stick and stones may break my bones, but at least magic can heal that pretty quickly. Words can cause years of therapy and depression, and only have magical remedies to hide the problem, not fix it." Crazy how you never heard anyone say that though.

With a small internal shrug and one last twinge of guilt, Robert went back to sticks and stones."Flipendo!" He pronounced, aiming his wand at the same target as his previous words. A small shiver went through his arm as the spell flew towards Alec, and a small smile of satisfaction appeared on his face as the Gryffindor was thrown back through the air. It was moments like these that made Robert love the sport, where somehow everything seems to go absolutely perfect, even if just for a moment.

At Alec's next comment, Robert fully laughed out loud. He had no idea how else to respond to something like that. “Yeah, that’s exactly what happened,” he replied, still laughing.

ROUND 5

Manuela was still fighting off the winds around her, trying as hard as she could to see oncoming attacks. Unfortunately, the wind was too overpowering as it sucked in flames from Elsa’s cast. While some of the fire stayed within the wind creating a horrifying fire cyclone around Manuela, most of the flames broke through the wind eating into her clothes like a fish finally reintroduced to water.

Alec pulled himself to his feet, but he might find himself wishing he had just tapped out instead. Elliot, Dealla, and Robert all turned on the lion. Clearly, the day was not favoring him, and they were ready to take advantage of that. The first thing to hit the Gryffindor was a silver stream from Elliot. Painful jabs into ticklish spots could incite laughter if the boy was ticklish; if not, it would just be pain. However, the Ravenclaw duo had sent their own idea of pain over. A mighty burst from Dealla’s wand joined the fire sent by Robert. Alec would try his best to get out of the way to no avail. The flames would engulf him in a terrible fury.

It would not take long for Alec to hit the ground. “HALT!” Santario commanded, rushing over to Gryffindor’s point in the triangle. Her cherrywood wand was already in hand, pointing at Alec while her free hand waved to the medics. “Extinguo!” A strong burst of mist poured over the boy, quickly putting out all the flames covering his body. “Alec Mason is out of the duel.” A cacophony of boos and cheers erupted from the crowd as the medics removed his unconscious body from the battlefield, and Santario retook her place. Once they were gone, she looked at the remaining duellists giving them a resolute nod. “You may continue.”

OOC Info

Mod Note| Everything is back to normal for me. I can now mod as soon as all posts and actions are in.
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: Tuesday, August 30th, 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

You might almost think that neither Robert nor Dealla wanted to shake Alec's hand with the way they both turned on him immediately after the request, joined even by the American despite the two incessantly flirting through the entire match. Truth was, though, that Alec was the easiest target, and none of them had any inhibition to exploit the fact.

Tiring of repeatedly conjuring wind on the stage, Dee decided to switch tactics to fire instead. Also, after all his comments, you might almost think he liked being aflame, so she was really doing him a favour, wasn't she? Once again, she could just feel this spell was going to be extraordinary as she finished the incantation, traced the flame symbol, and she almost laughed. Something was different today and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Perhaps what she'd had for breakfast?

With Alec knocked flat, his ability to dodge impaired, she supposed it shouldn't be a surprise that all three spells struck home. She felt almost bad for him... Only almost, though, he'd gotten himself into it. As Santario called for a pause in the duel, Dee stepped back, letting her wand sink. A moment of reprieve, time to roll her shoulders, tuck back a loose strand of hair.

Looking to the side, she gave Robert a critical once over. He was doing well but he'd taken a hit or two. Still, he seemed to still be in good shape. "You doing okay?" she asked, shaking out her wand hand before getting back into stance as Alec was removed from the stage. Turning back towards their remaining opponents, she gave a cheerful smile, speaking loud enough they might hear it. "One down, three to go?"

@Robert Toukmond

Robert once again targeted poor Alec, sure that the other boy wouldn't make it through the round. It may sound bad, but he really felt no remorse for subjecting the Gryffindor to more fire, even after everything else he'd gone through this match. In reality, a swift knock-out was really the nicest thing you could give in a duel.

"Incendio duo," he incanted, conjuring a strong stream of fire from his wand. As he did so, he felt a huge blast of hot air rush past his side, originating from his partner. His own spell-casting had been relatively solid, but Dee's put him to shame. "Nice one, Dee!" he exclaimed. "Gotta love the dramatic KO." Robert gave her a teasing grin.

As Alec was removed from the field, Robert took a second to relax. At Dee's question, he realized he actually hadn't checked in with his nervous system in some time. He was still a bit bruised from the Ventus at the start of the duel, but was doing pretty well otherwise. Maybe a bit out of breath, but that was to be expected. "I'm doing great! You?" he replied with a smile, settling back into his dueling stance. With a bright light in his eyes, the boy nodded. "One down, three to go."

WELL, that was one way to get rid of a distraction. It was ironic, in a way that made Elliot oddly confident in his seizing of literary devices’ definitions for half a second, that his focus came when casting directly at his publicly promulgated distraction. It was a pity, in a way that made Elliot think that he needed to be the subject of at least one Harvard psychology thesis, that his brilliantly cast pillow fight was somewhat wasted. In either case, he waved Alec a speedy goodbye with the hope that the ravens’ dual blazes hadn’t eaten away too much of the eye candy before he could.

It was likely that a Harvard psychology person would have to be called in by the time he landed back in America, for Elliot Arthur Bexley remained silent for what might’ve been the zeroeth time in his life. Librarians across the United States rejoiced. Silently.

What remained before him, after all, was three opponents, one partner on fire, and a fire of his own being oiled in his chest. The very same chest that had suffered through cosmetic products and scamming lotions, the very same chest that refused to grow any sort of visible hair no matter what, was filled with the need for a win. At the very, very, very least, a second place that would technically be a tie but technically be a second place based on a technicality. Though no unwise wisecracks left his mouth, the grin that subsisted on a diet of life’s manure and overly sour lemons endured.