(no subject)

[compromisedarrow]

Who: Clint Barton
Where: Great Hall, Hogwarts
When: Janurary 2013.
Format: Either.
Open/Closed: Open.

[A notice will be posted on all Common Room noticeboards, as well as the main castle board in the Entrance Hall. It reads as such:]

WIZARD DUEL CLUB

For those who wish to learn the art of wizard duelling, the Duel club will be every Monday, Tuesday, Friday at 19:00 and every Sunday at 11:00 with Mr. Barton in the Great Hall.

Only Second-year students and above can participate, but anyone can watch and participate.

WANTED

Any staff/higher level students for demonstration purposes/tutoring.

((OOC: The first lesson thread will be going up in here. :3 Feel free to pick an opponent and duke it out! Or just hang around and watch.))

Comments

[compromisedarrow]

[Clint manages to duck the disarming charm, but the banishing charm hits him square in the chest. He quickly points his wand at himself.]

Impedimenta!!

[And he stops... Right before he hits the wall. He's still grinning as he casts the next spells, aiming to bring himself back onto the stage.]

Relashio! Snufflifors!

[The purple revulsion jinx, aiming to disarm von Karma and the pink Mouse Transfiguration spell blast forth.]

[perfectlaw]

Refl-- Ghh!

[His incantation is slightly too slow, and his wand flies out of his hand into the air. He manages to just barely move out of the way of the mouse spell, though, reaching into the air and shouting-]

Accio wand!

[Wandless magic is difficult, of course, but for someone as skilled as von Karma- and a spell so easy- it's trivial, and the wand returns to his hand before even hitting the ground. He pants a bit, having to catch his breath from his momentary physical activity, and grins slightly]

Not as bad as I presumed. But let's get started for real, now, shall we? Avis Maxima.

[A harmless little Transfiguration, conjuring birds from thin air. Why would he be making a flock of colorful birds? Even if it's about ten birds? Because of this-]

Oppugno!

[His wand pointed at Clint, a flash of gray bursts from said wand, the birds flocking around it before flying in a rush towards his opponent, each and every one of them dedicated to attacking him]

[compromisedarrow]

I was about to say the same thing.

[Clint touches down, eyes widening as the birds suddenly rush towards him. He brings his wand up, suffering a fair few pecks, grunting as the birds attack.]

Impedimenta!

[Same as before, only this time the birds stop. There's some vicious-looking cuts on his hands and neck. Playing rough, eh? Two can do that.]

Tentaclifors! Titillando! Periculum!!

[Red and purple blasts for the Tickling Hex and the Red Firework spell, a shockwave for Tentaclifors.

And, in the confusion, can't forget Manfred's feathered friends.]

Reducto!

[inseine]

[At about this time, a tall, imposing fellow appeared at the side of the main stage, allowing the dueling pair a wide enough berth to safely cast their spells. He stands to the side like a silent statue, back militantly straight, and gazes at the exchange without... seeing.

In fact, he wears an incredibly unimpressed and distant expression on his face, his stare focused with some semblance of attention stubbornly into the middle distance. He wears a haughty curl on his lip, halfway between a grimace and a knowing smirk.

Carry on, you two. Don't mind your observer.]

/spawns a new thread.

[deltacain]

[And David's going to walk up and stand beside you. He's interested, okay.]

This looks interesting.

[inseine]

It's a cockfight.

[Javert's pupils shrink and contract to a less-than-saucer size and shape, and he rewards David with the glance of a man who has just awoken for the day. He tilts his head skeptically.]

I suppose it is a diversion. A lengthy one.

[deltacain]

I thought Mr. Barton was likened to a hawk?

[He folds his arms, looking back to the stage.]

What's the story behind that, anyway?

[inseine]

Students and their nicknames! [Vague gesture.] Hawkeye, so I have heard. For his sharp-shooting. Fitting nickname, whoever-came-up-with-it.

[Hell, who knows? Maybe he was one to apply the name to Clint first. Javert is quite fond of referring to people with improper names.

Javert pauses and calmly steps aside. A spell whizzes past him moments later. He palms his chin pensively and regards the resulting puff of smoke blandly.]

There have been whispers of sight enhancements. Or enchantments. I don't buy them, but he is skilled in his area. Consistent shot, and he casts long.

[deltacain]

I can see why he'd get that nickname.

[Webb glances back to Javert.]

If you were a betting man, professor... [He trails off, smiling lightly. Does it need to be said.]

[inseine]

Really. I, betting man?

[That is just too much, Webb. Javert snaps an incredulous gaze to the man beside him, scrutinizing him closely and judging. Is this meant to be an off-color joke?

Slowly his lips part. He flashes his canines in a predatory grin. There is the wolf showing his teeth.]

Here is a thought. Say I call a winner. Would you trust my answer? Or am I the Devil's advocate?

[deltacain]

[And Javert simply gets a bland half-smile from the American. His expression is hard to read, even his eyes...]

Calling a winner. Sounds interesting. Sure, why not?

[inseine]

[Have it your way, Webb.]

Very well. I want very much to call in favor of Barton. He's got the distance advantage. Yet there is the matter of von Karma's pesky perfect record...

[deltacain]

Yes, I've heard of Professor von Karma's perfect record. Think Barton's good enough to end it?

gotta interject. sorry. ignore him.

[enrampagement]

[Archer chokes on his scotch.]

Phrasing.

Never.

[inseine]

Oh, don't have a fit, Archer. I intend what I say.

[enrampagement]

[Yeah, he wasn't expecting that response. Usually people just ignore him when he calls them on their innuendos.]

Well...good, [he bluffs.] 'Cause wands. They're pretty...phallic or whatever.

[inseine]

Too far, too far.

[Now his lip screws up in a deep grimace, eyes rolling toward the ceiling. He folds his arms.]

Subtlety could do you wonders. Give it a thought.

[If he is even capable of it.]

[enrampagement]

[Your scorn is not fazing him, Javert.]

Yeah, that's...that's not really my thing.

[Lest ye forget, this is the guy who tells every harlot from here to Hanoi that he's a secret agent and it's only the fact that he's been smacked over the head with the International Statute of Secrecy like three times that he's dropped the "and wizard" from that.]

[inseine]

Evidently.

[Javert is abundantly aware of Archer's ludicrous antics. Abundantly.

They may share a House, but he doesn't have to be fond of this man.]

[enrampagement]

[Yeah, they are the most opposite types of Gryffindor. Given that Archer fits the "stupidly brave and cocky" archetype.

Aaannnddd he has absolutely no response to that.

Pff whatever, it's not like he needs your approval. It's not like you're his father or anythi--

Nope. Javert's too young. Definitely no chance of that. Unless Malory was a cougar...nooooope noooope get out of there get out. He swigs the rest of his scotch in a desperate attempt to bleach his brain and walks away. Like he totally meant to do that. As he walks off:]

God damn it, Woodhouse, can I get a freaking refresher on this?

[An ancient house-elf appears with a crack!, carrying a bottle of scotch almost as big as he is, squeaking his apologies.]

[inseine]

[Well, if Javert can spend his nights holed up in his office, smoking away his frequent migraines, who is he to judge Archer for drinking?

Oh, who are we kidding, of course he's silently criticizing Archer. Javert and Archer may see eye to eye with the 'brave' and 'hideously reckless' personality traits, but the similarities end there. Javert is far too principled and honorable to fall to such depravity in public. At least smoking is a dignified habit. Inebriation is never correct.

... Though Javert admits he prefers Archer's company to von Karma's. Barely.

His lip curls at the house-elf's entrance.]

Your excess does not fail to amaze me. [And to the elf he issues an abrupt command,] A tonic and lime. This will take a while.

[Javert redirects his attentions back to the dueling match, the grimace still palpable on his face.]

[enrampagement]

Excess?

[Wow, just hear the disbelief in Archer's voice. No really, listen to it.]

This is only my third drink today. [He has long since learned that it is useless to lie to Javert. Still, for Archer, that's pretty good.] Well, it'll be my fourth, if Woodhouse gets his shit in gear...

[Woodhouse quickly runs to refill Archer's glass, and nods at Javert's drink order. Soon he reappears with a tonic and lime and holds it out to the Divination professor.]

[inseine]

Fourth. Not as excessive, then. [Javert accepts the drink and sips like the daintiest of dandies. It is very out-of-place against his wolfish face.] All in the last hour? Or did you drink up your first at breakfast?

[perfectlaw]

[But Manfred isn't where he was standing before, and the spells whiz through open air. The birds shrink away, to reveal that von Karma is simply standing about ten feet to the left of where he was before, his wand pointing right at Barton, and-]

Petrificus Totalus! Ventus! Flipendo!

[Three spells of his own are fired off in quick succession- a paralysis spell, of course, followed by a huge gust of wind and a bolt of the Knockback Jinx]

[compromisedarrow]

Protego!!

[The spells harmlessly crash against Barton's shield spell, the Knockback jinx still shoving him back slightly, as it hits as the spell fades...

...Either way, he raises his wand to his cheek, almost as if it was the haft of an arrow and aims...

An arrow bursts from the tip of his wand, followed by a succession of others. The Arrow-Conjouring spell, banned from official Quidditch matches because of the threat of injury.

The arrows are aiming to disorient von Karma, not hit him, aimed to be close enough to rip clothing, but not skin.]