Leoben knows what falling entrails sound like. (ex_notnice309) wrote in an_ill_wind, @ 2009-05-06 19:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | - 1980/05 may, leoben yaxley |
Who: Leoben Yaxley
When: Wednesday, 06 May, 1980; dusk.
Where: Muggle London, Tower Bridge.
What: Pandemonium
Rating: PG-13ish at the very most.
Status: Completed narrative!
It had not been very long since Leoben had caused destruction for the sake of destruction. In fact, it was almost common practise for him, whether it was muggle hunting for pleasure or something more like this. Destruction on behalf of the Dark Lord. It was much more fulfilling, really. There was something about rampant, purposeful carnage that got his blood pumping like nothing else. And so, it was that he chose to do this alone. Where to wreak the most havoc? He was aware that most people were working in teams. But Leoben wanted none of the mess. He wanted to do this alone. And so, as he kissed his wife goodbye, he disappeared and pulled on the familiar Death Eater garb, from black boots to the frightening mask. It was dusk when he arrived. Oh, how he loathed muggle London. But this would be perfect. The London Bridge. Already, he could feel the adrenaline pumping into his veins. Most people were on their way back to their boring, meaningless home lives. The bridge was packed, gridlocked with traffic. Leoben didn't hesitate. He cast a powerful Reducto at the base of the towers. This was going to be work, he knew. But he didn't pause. Blasting curse after blasting curse, he chipped away at the stone blowing away the very foundation of the towers holding the bridge together. Soon, he could hear the cracking of the structure, beginning to collapse on itself. And so did the muggles. Screams reached his ears from his spot on the shore, automobiles honking, cries to back up. But there was nowhere to go. It all quite loud and Leoben was grateful he wasn't actually on the bridge himself. For more than one reason. Leoben breathed deeply and summoned as much power to himself as he could, almost pulling the energy out of the air. With his next spell, he cast glowing green tendrils toward the bridge. The brick the magic touched scorched and turned to dust. They wrapped themselves around the base foundation of one of the towers. And with a grunt of effort, Leoben flicked his wand back, his entire body feeling the effort of the dark magic as the foundation crumbled and collapsed under the weight of the tower on top. The screams grew louder, joined by the splash of automobiles hitting the water, the crunch of metal being crushed by brick. Leoben gave the same treatment to the opposite tower and soon, nothing but floating rubble was left. He could see the struggling muggles in the water, desperately trying to reach the shore. Behind his mask, a vicious smile twisted his face. "Glacius," he cast smoothly. And all around the bridge, the water froze. He doubted any of them would get out of the water alive. With a self-satisfied smirk, Leoben watched the chaos for a long moment before growling "Morsmordre!" And into the air, the Dark Lord's Mark appeared, twisting into the clouds over the bridge. Let them all see that their Lord was greater than all of them. And that those that opposed Him would suffer. His work here was done. Leoben apparated home, feeling both drained and exhilarated. Muggle authorities would later find the spot on the shore that he stood, the plant life directly around the area shrivelled and dead. |