Two Flags S.W.A.G Club Concluded

Interactions: @Ruthie Greer

It was to Thora's great relief that her blonde friend finally stood up. Pushing off muddy hands, the snek did as well, making sure to keep by Ruthie. If she only had one friend on her team, they'd might as well stick together. Even if all else failed, at least Thora wasn't standing alone and helpless. 

Finally, back to the game. Green eyes narrowed again at the delicate Asian girl standing far on the other side of the field with the other team. Something about her looked familiar, and Thora wondered for a moment whether she'd seen the other girl before. Maybe she was in her house, maybe they were in the same year, but anyhow, Thora knew in an instant it would be hard to forget her. There was simply a strangely unsettling feel to her that wouldn't waver. 

While she looked innocent, she could very well be the Blue Team's best player. Thora cringed as their crimson flag flared bright, hit by none other than scary girl. The snek wasn't even too close to the banner she was supposed to be defending or something, but still, the crackling of flames eating up fabric like it consumed oxygen was somewhat unnerving.

"Flipendo!" Thora almost stamped the ground in frustration as a light flickered pathetically, and then went out. She was part of a team. She was supposed to be working with her team. And what had she done? Absolutely nothing. At least her spell didn't backfire again—she'd have looked useless if it did. But then, having hit herself in the last round, Thora probably didn't appear as a help in the first place.

At least they were getting somewhere with the bright blue flag clear at the other end of the field, behind where the other team stood as dots against an almost-dark sky. Ruthie's Incendio had worked flawlessly twice in a row, and Thora couldn't help but be jealous. Just a bit. "Good job," she muttered to her friend.

But a question arose. A question about the idiot running towards the other team. "I have no idea," she answered before raising her voice, "St-" It seemed that Evelynn beat her to it, though, running after the boy, yelling through the sneezes that were getting more and more persistent. In the chaos and dark, Thora wasn't sure which disillusioned student was actually dim enough to cross into the other team's territory and thereby get disqualified, but he certainly wasn't in the team spirit. 

Thanks. A lot. If Thora was stronger, braver, more impulsive, she might have beaten the boy to the boundary. But alas, he was too far gone now. The Red Team would certainly feel the loss, with this sort of game, but however stupid it was, it was his choice to make. Thora had hers to make, as did the rest of the team. And, aspen wand in hand, she knew without a doubt that she would choose her team.

Action | Doing as strategized

[font="Monotype Corsiva"]

Well somehow Quinn had managed to shield his ally Erik from harm. At least as far as he could tell and now he could see again. His vision was still a tad blurry but he fixed the grip on his wound. Reaffirming his convictions in getting the job done. He really wanted to win the game this time. He wanted to do it for himself and his team.

If he had to get a bit reckless to do so then so be it. It would be worth it in the end. He knew if he put his mind to it he could accomplish whatever goal he set for himself. So he quickly glanced around the field and then his eyes settled on the enemy flag. They needed to take it down still and hopefully they could get more shots on the flag. Destroying it before theirs was destroyed first.

Wiping his eyes again, his vision fully returned and he straightened his posture. A grin fell upon his face, he wasn't angry or sad. He was simply excited about the challenge this whole game presented. He was going to prove everyone wrong about his nature, and prove himself right about being a great wizard. Blood and stigmas be damned.

[/font]

[font="Monotype Corsiva"]Action: Doing as strategized.[/font]

The third year was certainly in the middle of the game, focused on winning or getting the other team at a disadvantage. However he appeared to be deciding his actions on a whim, not really sure how he could be of help for the team. At least he was trying and when the Ravenclaw boy, who seemed fierce with his decision to shield their flag, said that he was fine, Alan just nodded and looked up to their flag. While the boy was doing a great job, Alan was sure that it could not hurt helping keep their flag safe as well.

Too late did he hear the scream of a voice he was all too familiar with and wondered what had happened. But he needed to focus here now, if he wanted his spell to succeed. A glance back to the other field and he saw Erik running over to their side and it made Alan wonder, whether he would be caught, because that was against the rules... clearly. What should he do now? Alan was way too far away to actually do something or step in, but he really hoped whoever Erik was running at was prepared for it.

doing as strategized

Doing as strategised!

Katrina's rage fizzled down as she cast another fire charm. It, again, misfired. At that moment, she didn't know why she even bothered trying. The flame charm alighted a nearby patch of grass. She didn’t know what she was doing wrong anymore.

Through the tangle of emotions Katrina realized the game was continuing without her. She slowly untangled the mess and refocused. This was not the time to be emotional. The Gryffindor shoved aside the anger, resentment, and embarrassment. Quickly, she blinked back the tears that had almost fallen. It was a bit embarrassing to cry over a little mistake. It didn't matter anymore, she needed to win this game.

Katrina watched carefully as each student cast their own spells. She watched as each flag was torn and repaired slowly but surely. A grateful though flitted through her mind as many other spells misfired. At least she wasn't the only one! She quickly sized up the other team and her flag. Her options flew through her mind and she slowly sifted through the most effective.

Her option solidified in the 12-year-old's mind. The girl took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves. Absentmindedly, she tucked her teal streak of hair behind her ear. Deliberately, she raised her wand and confidently cast her spell. It was sure to work this time.

If her spell failed again. She was going to keep trying. Sometimes you have to fail again and again to appreciate the successes.

Action: Doing as Strategized

───────────────
S.W.A.G Moderation
3rd round
───────────────

Team
BLUE

☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ ☰☰☲☲ HEALTH 1447 ☲☲☰☰ ☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ FLAG 439 - 50 - 50 - 99 - 108 + 155 = 287 1160 POLE Reducio *will put red flag image here soon*	Flag Damage Reducio BANNER Ruthie's Incendio1 -50 hp Ruthie's Incendio2 -50 hp Ruthie's Incendio3 (50 + 10 × 6) × 0.9 = -99 hp Quinn's Incendio Duo (100 + 10 × 2) × 0.9 = -108 hp Alan's Reparo 65 + 10 × 9 = +155 hp POLE NONE Spell Effects Reducio BANNER Ruthie's Incendio2 -50 hp for 1 round Ruthie's incendio3 -50 hp for 1 round Quinn's Incendio Duo -50 hp for 2 rounds
══	════════════════════════════════

Team
RED

Flag Damage Reducio BANNER Astrea's Incendio -50 hp Katrina's Incendio (50 + 10 × 9) × 0.9 = -126 hp Bridget's Incendio Duo (100 + 10 × 7) × 0.9 = -153 hp Pierre's Reparo 65 + 10 × 5 = +115 hp Spell Effects Reducio BANNER Astrea's Incendio -50hp for 2 rounds Katrina's Incendio -50hp for 2 rounds Bridgets's Incendio Duo -50hp for 4 rounds	☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ ☰☰☲☲ HEALTH 1443 ☲☲☰☰ ☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲☲ FLAG 407 - 50 - 126 - 153 +115 = 193 1250 POLE Reducio *will put red flag image here soon*
════════════════════════════════	══

Player Statistics

Team
BLUE

Reducio

────────────────────────────	────────────────────────────
	─────────────── Alan ─────────────── Status In game Health 1100 - 117 = 983 Effects None
─────────────── Katrina ─────────────── Status In game Health Full (600) Effects None
	─────────────── Bridget ─────────────── Status In game Health 500 - 72 = 428 Effects None
─────────────── Astrea ─────────────── Status In game Health 455 Effects None
	─────────────── River ─────────────── Status In game Health 700 - 126 = 574 Effects
─────────────── Rafael ─────────────── Status In game Health 1000 - 190 - 144 = 666 Effects None
	─────────────── Jorah ─────────────── Status In game Health 928 Effects None

Team
RED

Reducio

────────────────────────────	────────────────────────────
	─────────────── Quinn ─────────────── Status In game Health Full (1200) Effects None
─────────────── Erik ─────────────── Status Disqualified Health 410 Effects Paralysed (Full Body-Bind Curse)
	─────────────── Neculai ─────────────── Status In game Health Full (900) Effects None
─────────────── Thora ─────────────── Status In game Health 538 Effects None
	─────────────── Pierre ─────────────── Status In game Health Full (300) Effects
─────────────── Ruthie ─────────────── Status In game Health Full (600) Effects None
	─────────────── Evelynn ─────────────── Status In game Health Full (500) Effects None

@Erik Tharaldson

Revenge. It was the only thing upon the young wolf's mind as he raced across the pitch, nearing, and then crossing, the border of his team's boundary. Neither the shouts of dismay from the opposing team, nor even those of his own, would deter him. He was unstoppable. Until he wasn't. Unfortunately, the image he held so dearly in his mind to lay waste to the girl that had attacked him would never be fulfilled. No sooner would he have crossed the boundary than a shout of "Tharaldson! Stop right—" have cut through the din from the lips of Aurelia, although she would have quickly cut herself off in lieu of the unfolding event. "Petrificus Totalus!" came her next shout. But not quite quick enough. Erik had already been mid-swing. Rather than Astrea's face, however, his fist would meet that of another — Rafael's — at the last second. The force would still be enough to bruise muscle, split skin, and draw blood. Whatever sense of victory (or defeat given the connection with the wrong target) he might have had, however, would be short-lived as Aurelia's cast connected with him, causing his joints to stiffen and pin together and his form to topple forward with his momentum.

@Ruthie Greer

With Thora's intervention, the little birb seemed to get a grip on herself — enough to actually be able to carry on with the game, at least. She was developing a pattern of attack. One successfully cast incendio at the banner. Two successfully cast incendios at the banner. Dare it be said…three successfully cast incendios at the banner! Once again, flame erupted from the tip of Ruthie's wand, shooting forward to set the scene about her into stark relief as it streaked across the pitch to engulf, yet again, the enemy flag. Blue was quickly fading into little more than soot and ash and a steadily growing inferno of dancing orange light. One thing was certain: not one player would question the pivotal role Ruthie had played for the success of her team.

@Piérre Marchonné

Things had not gone quite so well for Pierre, unfortunately. His last spell had been something of a disaster. Despite having cast the spell itself correctly, it seemed to have completely missed its mark. So much so that he had set his own scarf ablaze! A mad dash, a quietly uttered Mending Charm, and he was back in the game, however. Evidently, his mind remained in the same train of thought as he took aim at the red flag with a second Mending Charm, no doubt hoping to undo some of the damage it had incurred by enemy fire. Much like it had with his scarf, the scorch marks and frayed and melted threads of the flag's banner seemed to knit themselves partially back together. Unfortunately, as it was still receiving an nearly endless volley of flame, the effect was limited.

@Bridget Collins

If fire worked once, why not twice, indeed! Well, perhaps her wand had just needed a little respite that second time. Or maybe she just hadn't been quite as focused. Whatever the reason for the previously failed spell, it seemed as though the barreling wolf-boy was enough to fuel her motivation and determination on this attempt. Following the footsteps of her first cast, bright flame spewed from the end of Bridget's wand, roaring towards the enemy flag with spits and crackles. The instant it caught hold, it spread seemingly across the entirety of the freshly mended flag, turning it to a blazing inferno. But it seemed fire for fire was on the agenda. No sooner had she struck one off than a flaming ball promising scalding misery came streaking right at her from across the other side. It struck her, scorching, but went out almost immediately.

@Astrea Soleil Neptune

If antagonising the wolf had been her goal, she had surely succeeded. He raced at her with an intent so vicious that any on the pitch could deduce it. The battle now was entirely a different one. The brawn to the belle. His might against her magic. Instinct versus intellect. He had left himself vulnerable to her attack in the time it would take him to approach, yet if he closed the distance and landed a blow, the damage would have been significant. But as a figure moved between to protect the porcelain pureblood, neither would know how that pairing would end. Instead, the spell that spilled so effortlessly from Astrea's lips struck forward to land squarely against the very same target that had absorbed Erik's blow in her place. Before her eyes, she would see Rafael thrown away from her at the hands of her Knockback Jinx.

@Evelynn Decipio

Shout as much as she would, Evelynn's words of warning would yield no results. She would have to watch in helpless frustration as Erik continued forward and over the boundary. To add insult to injury, her efforts to double-down and make up for the loss that the red team would incur with his disqualification would prove fruitless. Despite a successful (at least she had that consistently going for her) cast of the Fire-Making Spell, the distraction of Erik's raging coupled with the incessant sneezing were enough to impair her concentration. Once again, her aim proved off, the ball of flame shooting off into the nothingness of the darkening sky.

@River Dewlight

It really did seem as though perhaps today wasn't River's day. Or perhaps she'd used up all of her luck during the last S.W.A.G Game and the powers to be had decided that her win from the last round was enough for her. Whatever it was, whether she'd gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, or somehow ticked off Jack-Be-Lucky, or those crimson tresses were finally living up to the dark rumors of their ill nature….The trend of casting did not improve. In fact, it only went downhill from there. To this point, River's spells had only missed, or just failed to function at all. This time, it was utter failure; the spell back-fired entirely. Instead of Pierre, her intended target, it was River who found herself blown backwards as though taking a breath-taking shove to the chest. And as if things couldn't get worse, there was now the smell of blood on the air. Should she search to identify the source, she'd find freshly split skin on Rafael's face as a result of the connection between it and the knuckles of Erik's fist.

@Rafael D'Spacito

Perhaps it may have been Rafael's intention to serve his team proud with a moment of support and to repair some of the damage that had been done to their flag, but that plan would change in a split second decision. No sooner had he started casting than had the barreling wolf-boy caught his attention. Rather than go for the flag, Rafael donned the white cloak. What a nice guy. In a race against the blond Slytherin, he barely managed to get himself between Erik and Astrea, and what followed next would be nothing shy of a bad day. A punch from the front resulted in bruises, split skin and the draw of blood. And just as the blow staggered him, a force would erupt against his back as Astrea's mis-targeted Knockback Jinx hit him squarely between the shoulders. The next question might be if he would even register the shout of, "D'Spacito, leave him be! I do not want to have to deal with you, too!" that sounded across the pitch from their referee, Aurelia.

@Jorah Moussa

While chaos continued to unfold, spells slinging, voices ringing, and blond boys springing… Jorah…tapped into an inner calm of sorts. Or so it seemed. He had taken up a post at the base of the blue team's flag. He went neither for his wand, nor to intercept the attack on Astrea, but rather…stood there. Perhaps he was biding his time. Perhaps he was taking a calculating moment to survey the board before moving his piece for the check. Perhaps he was identifying the chinks in the enemy armor. Maybe he was looking at the grass. Or thinking about a certain blonde girl. The truth will never be known.

@Thora Larkston

Thora had the right idea. Even if she couldn't go chasing after the recklessly shouting, instinct-driven boy, she could at least attempt to support the team and make up the impending loss they would incur as a result of his approaching disqualification. Taking aim, Thora's spell went off with practically practiced perfection. A spark blossomed into flame and then into a billowing streak of a spitting inferno ball as it plummeted forward towards — and then past! — the enemy flag. Whether her aim had been off, the wind had changed the direction of the banner's flapping, or something else had interfered with her accuracy, she did not strike her intended target. Instead, her little fire child struck Alan, singing him, but fortunately not setting him ablaze.

@Quinn Healy

Vision fully returned. Posture straight. Mind cleared. Determination set. Target in sight. There was — apparently — nothing that would stop him in this moment of clarity. If anyone, ever, thought a half-giant to be somehow less adept in their casting, they would be hard-pressed not to eat their words in this moment. Formidable appearance and mental fortitude aside, the flame conjured by the third-year practically exploded from the tip of his wand. The performance was with such perfection and clarify that one might have been temporarily awed by the skill with which it had been cast. Nevermind spat. The fire roared across the pitch, casting everything beyond its sphere of influence into temporary total darkness, and everything within into brief light blindness should anyone make the mistake to look its way. And at the cusp of its trail, it almost seemed to explode into the blue banner with an outward rush of scalding wind, setting ablaze any part of the linen that had yet been untouched.

@Alan Vanes

It seemed the impact of Erik's charge had evidently impacted everyone. At least Alan had maintained a sense of awareness of the general situation and the need to keep the flag of his own team alive long enough so that they could bring down the red one. While Rafael and the others dealt with the blond rager, Alan took aim, casting the well-practiced spell to knit the damaged fibers of the blue banner back together, scorch marks fading somewhat. Unfortunately, with his attention direction back towards his own team's flag, he failed to notice the incoming ball of flame that had veered off its intended course and instead impacted with the ginger third-year. Fortunately, albeit singed and scorched, the fire did not catch upon his clothing.

@Neculai Lazar

Neculai's words would reach deafened ears; his friend simply wouldn't heed the calls of warning and opposition to the reckless charge, and would continue to charge on rather than stop and turn about as the birb might have been hoping. Instead, with his wand hand raised and having taken aim, he'd be rewarded accordingly. A spark of light would be the first hint of a successfully conjured flame, the spark quickly erupting into a ball of hissing fire that would streak out in the wake of so many others towards the blue team's flag. Only, it would never reach its intended target. It seemed the red team was cursed with bad luck; or perhaps the lot of them simply needed some target practice. It wouldn't be entirely for naught, though. Rather than the banner, it would be Bridget's form that crossed its path. Fortunately for her, the flame would only singe and scorch, and would not catch her robes on fire. Whether he would even notice that would be another thing altogether. Aside from the scent of the burning linens of the flags, another smell may be noticeable to the boy if conditions aligned. In the process of blocking Erik's fist with his face, Rafael had sustained bruising, and more importantly, a split of skin. He was bleeding.

@Katrina Walker

Although she had been met with a brief setback and the emotional letdown that had come with it, Katrina did well to collect herself and set her thoughts straight. She certainly wasn't the only one. Everyone was novice, after all. In a way, these games served to provide the students the opportunity for practical experience in a higher stress and chaotic environment in order to practice spells. It was unreasonable to think that one would be able to cast as effectively and as efficiently as one would be able to in the quieter, more demure environment of a classroom. In this instance, however, her determination paid off. Fire erupted from her wand-tip to streak across the pitch, setting fire to the opposing banner.

The billow of flame, of light and heat and color and power, made last round's failure worth it. Bridget watched, hazel eyes quite wide, practically in awe at the magic coming out of her wand. The second the fire caught the fabric of the red flag, their was no doubt in the Slytherin's mind that the blaze would last, that no cold weather or wind was going to blow it out. It was hard to explain how she knew, but the rush she'd felt during the cast, as if her determination had flowed through her to her wand, fueling the jet of fire, sent liquid pride coursing through her veins and made her sure the fire would last.

Even better was that she wasn't the only one to set the other team's banner aflame. Although her attention was diverted from the scene the boy from the other team was causing, more concentrated on her own cast, she did notice Katrina's own Incendio hit its mark. It might have not been the more powerful version of the spell, as evidenced by the lack of green light, but it was still impressive. "Nice job," she complimented her teammate with a thumbs-up.

And then it hit her. Searing pain. The small girl gave a little shriek, whipping her head away from the lion and onto her clothes. Panic began to settle in--she was surely on fire... but she wasn't. Much to her relief, the flames had only left a sooty spot on her hoodie... or had it? Upon closer inspection, a hole had been burned through the fabric and the skin underneath was raw, stinging. Biting her lip to distract herself from the pain in her burned arm, she looked up, hazel eyes full of fire. She scanned the ranks of the other team, searching for who'd hit her. Her gaze landed on a Ravenclaw boy. Neculai. If you could mentally spit a word, then that's what happened when she thought his name. It must've been him. Maybe he looked apologetic, but all Bridget could see was the unhinged expression he'd had last game, right before he'd knocked her off her room. Perhaps it was entirely imagined, perhaps it was real. The brunette didn't even have solid proof it was him. That was the thing about her, though--she held grudges. Even if it was something stupid, if someone hurt her, embarrassed her, made her mad, she didn't forget it.

Action | Doing as Strategized

@Aurelia Notrésvace, @Meenauh Silmataurea, & @Evelynn Decipio
aka; The EPIC SUB-MODERATORS!

"REPARO!"

The spell hit its mark flawlessly, and the flag healed up in the same way Piérre's scarf had. It was beautiful to see the reversal of such magic that had already taken place. When the spell had finished its work, Piérre lowered his wand, taking a deep breath as he kept moving, making himself a harder tartget to hit. By this point, most of his facial expressions had faded into nothing, a blank stare of someone who is occupied or focused on something.

Madness was something Piérre give much thought to. Truth be told, madness, in the boy's mind, could be found most anywhere, found in anyone or anything. It only depended on what opposite personas believed in. He himself could be considered mad by many, and he considered many courses of actions illogical or funny, but there was a sort of difference between what most people interpreted as madness and what Piérre himself interpreted as madness.

The spells flying every which way, the screams of aggravation and irritation, of pain and excitement all mixed together in the Gryffindor's ears, but he hardly heard any of it. He was far too concerned about what he was going to do to assist his team in this upcoming round. Sure, he felt compassion and fear for his teammates, and even the opponents on the other team. He was far from being a sadist, and it hurt him to see so many young children in pain, but in this moment, all he could feel was numbness, a sort of runner's high. He was in the zone, and his name be damned if he wasn't doing to keep fighting like an Italian mandator, or even the bull being hunted.

He could only see one way to win, though both sides seemed to be equally matched. One side was going to fall soon, and with one of their members petrified and laying prone on the opposite side of the field, every player on their team would have to do their best to win the game for everyone.

With a deep breath as his eyes set with determination, Piérre focused his inner power, his uncontrollable magic as he dedicated himself. He was going to win this, he was going to win for himself and for his team. Even if he were it with a spell, he wasn't sure that he would feel anything. That was the magic of adrenaline; once it had its prey, it never let go.

The best part was that Piérre was ready to let it go down.

Doing as Strategized