Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-01-02 20:20:00 |
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Who: A fuckload of people
Where: The Ministry of Magic
When: 5:15-6:00 pm, 2 January 1980
What: TAKEOVER
Rating: R
Status: complete
PART 3 OF 7
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]
(LEVEL 3)
Bellatrix narrative -- Level 3 (Magical Accidents and Catastrophes)
Bellatrix felt the feral animal rising in her, ready to wreak vengance on those who dared deny her happiness. Those who killed her father, incarcerated her husband, who dared to stand and mock the Dark Lord. She had spared a moment for one but her mercy, typically so easily exhausted, had hardened into bloodlust. Desire crept into her veins as she stepped out and the feminine, disembodied voice announced:
"Level Three: Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."
With her face still streaked with the blood of Dorcas Meadowes, she crowed with laughter. Yes, indeed, there would be a catastrophe. Though, accident? No, not at all. With intention, she strode through the office, seeking out every face before she reached the other side.
There was wailing, begging, pleading, cowering. When faced with demise, the human behaved as any animal: snapping, growling, doing anything to survive. One man - tall and burly - began a headlong descent toward her, his wand outstretched like a battleax. He was cut in two pieces at the waist by a simple "Reducto!" and there was screaming as the blood spurted.
She smiled, her teeth ghastly white against her reddened cheeks as she gathered her strength, honing her concentration upon the group of employees now pressed into a corner of the office. The fear, the fear was seductive. Moaning with a profane pleasure, she stepped forward and filled every pair of eyes with luminous, phosperescent green.
All dead around her, she merely shook out her hair and waved her wand again. A quick Evanesco and they were all gone. Merely vanished, the office looked peaceful, neat and quiet.
Magical Accidents and Catastrophes would not pose a problem.
She moved along, further up and further in.
4. 5.35pm The Death Eaters Arrive at the DMLE
(Level 2)
The day had finally come: the ministry was under attack; at first Rufus had thought they could batten down the hatches, and -- after working with a few other aurors to disable the lift and make the ascent more difficult for their assailants -- sent off a couple scouts to find out what was going on in the lower floors, hoping that they'd return to report that it was nothing more than a few raging death eaters who could be taken down with a bit of brute force.
When they never came back, he realised the problem was likely more dire than any of them had expected -- and, gritting his teeth, made a decision that would have brought him a perverse pleasure had the situation been a more lighthearted one. "Robins, Cadwallader," he barked over the low rumble of panic that was slowly building in people who could do nothing but wait for orders over the din of destruction occurring beneath them. "Get these desks out and block the lift." He rolled up his sleeves, looking around -- Merlin, he'd forgotten Longbottom was pregnant. Goddamned office duty was meant to protect her. "Alice get into the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office and start testing the wards. If we can't shove our way out we're going to need an alternative."
"You," he pointed randomly, "go see if the Minister is still in her office. You and you! Go help Crouch with whatever he needs. You! See that the secretaries are out of harms way. Gina, Amelia --" and this was where things got fun and/or complicated "we need to sort paperwork. Quickly. Everything valuable hand off to Gladys, throw everything else into my office." Despite the undercurrent of stress, Rufus was efficient, quick, and relatively calm as he barked out orders. "Get to work people! We have a fight coming this way!"
Gina's face visibly paled, which was quite a feat in itself, given how ghostly her complexion normally was. There was no time to contemplate the finer details of how the woman was in desperate need of a tan, though. The warning alarms announcing that the Ministry was being attack continued to blast, secretaries were running panicked through the office like chickens that had lost their heads, and the orders that Rufus barked out were barely audible underneath all of the chaos.
Of course, the bit that was the hardest to hear was likely the most important thing for them all to listen to, and Gina nodded in response to Rufus's requests (he was giving orders, she could take orders, she knew how to follow orders), going to work straight away. Important files went to Gladys, while everything else tossed in a heap into Rufus's office, a cascade of papers and forms bouncing off the hammock.
Lainey usually did good under pressure, but this circumstance was a rather different one from one she usually had to deal with. The ministry was under attack and everything was a complete mess. But, she had to be one of the calm ones and just get through this day in one piece and hopefully do her best to protect the Ministry she loved and worked for for these past few years. Lainey was slightly in a panic, but was trying not to show it. She didn't know how good of a job she was going at the moment.
She heard Rufus yell out her name and didn't even wait for Sebastian as she rushed over to the desks and grabbed one end of it as she waited for Sebastian to get the other end, so they could move it. She could just do it by magic, but this was quicker and she liked to use a little physical force every once in a while.
Under her breath, Alice cursed the timing of her pregnancy, not bothering ask for more instructions as she moved towards the Misues of Muggle Artifacts Office. She had never felt more useless -- she wasn't even in her second trimester. She could be fighting, but this needed to be done, and she didn't want to be the idiot to put her child in danger because she wanted in on the action. Arthur Weasley had already left for the afternoon, so she pushed everything off of his desk and drew her wand out of her pocket. She didn't even know where to begin.
Sighing, she sat down at the desk, listening to the toll of the bell and trying to drown it out so that she could focus. She wished that Frank was there, but he had other things to do, more important things. He mostly dealt with the wards at their house, and while Alice had basic training... She focused, honing in on what needed to be done. This would take a lot longer than Rufus probably hoped.
Rufus watched the scatter of aurors and quickly moved to Gina's side to get to work. It was a bit insane, really, how much damned stuff was actually in the office, and as he tore through the filing cabinets in the back of the room, the ability to decide what would go and what would stay became easier and easier. Huge red confidential files were perused and then discarded, and Rufus occasionally poked his head out of the office to keep his eye on the lift, knowing they only had minutes to get their shit together.
He then moved out to his desk, yanking drawers open as parchment flew to the floor around them, stuffing papers into Gladys's hands and pausing only a moment to stare in surprise at a sandwich that must have been buried in these papers for the better part of a decade. How awkward. It, too, went into the office pile, and he thought with a grim sense of amusement that it might aid in the flames.
Alana scrambled up the stairs. She gripped Ted's arm, partly to be aware and comforted that he was still there, and partly to help hold herself up as she limped painfully down the stairs. She was covered in dust and debris and small wounds had blood trickling down her face. Her wide brown eyes surveyed the office, full of hurrying Aurors and secretaries burning piles and piles of parchment. Faced with the dizzying chaos, she couldn't do much but stand and hope someone told her what to do. For someone of stubborn independence, this was terrifying.
Ted was out of breath by the time they got up to the DMLE; he was trying to help Alana up the stairs and make sure that he didn't trip and nobody else was in the staircase. They made it up, and he turned to make sure Alana was okay before looking for somebody- anybody to speak to. He didn't see Frank- the first person in this department that he'd usually turn to, and he kept his wand at hand as he made his way amidst the desks, looking for somebody who might be even somewhat in charge. He thought he saw Rufus- he was pretty high up, wasn't he?- and began to move toward him, trying to gain his attention.
And he caught it -- Rufus, arms full of paper and lord knew what else that had been trapped in his desk for the latter half of the century, turned, wand out (beneath the chaos), at the entrance of unexpected newcomers. "You!" Yes, he wished he could remember either Alana or Ted's names, but that wasn't exactly at the top of his priority list right now. "What's going on downstairs? Is there a path out?" He didn't exactly harbour any optimism but it didn't hurt to ask.
Alana shook her head, swallowing hard as panic rose up in her throat. "They're all down there, sir, the Death Eaters, and even if we could get past them, they tried to blast us on the way down, there was stuff flying everywhere, it's probably blocked." She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. At least, she thought, Mr. Scrimgeour seemed like he had some idea of what he was doing.
"Ministry takeover, sir, from the sound of it. It sounds like they're going through each level and asking us all to surrender," Ted added, a hand coming up to his sore shoulder. "The doorway to the staircase from our level's caved in, I think- I doubt there's any getting through it there." His gaze moved about the room, taking in the general chaos of it all. "They said something about the Dark Lord. Rising, trying to take over- it didn't sound good."
Damn. It wasn't like he'd really expected another answer, but the unfortunate reality was that the stairs had been the only other hope besides the wards -- which were now looking more and more necessary. "Robins, Sebastian, go help Alice!" He hoped that they'd be able to get the hell out of there via the muggle office but honestly? He didn't know if the department could hold off against the death eaters long enough -- especially if they'd already trashed the lower floors. Well too damned bad. They'd just have to.
"Well, it'd be best for you to get out of harm's way," he said brusquely, handing Alana a box of papers. "Have Gladys," and he pointed to one of the secretaries, "help you with this. You, lad," and he gestured at Ted, "help build up the defences against the lift." And, orders given, Rufus returned to feeding the office fire.
Lainey had just finished helping Sebastian block the lift. She knew it would probably be a temporary fix, but she hoped it would give them some time. That was all she could hope for right now. She then looked over at Rufus as he shouted out his next set of instructions to the both of them. She did not reply to him, only nodded and glanced over at Sebastian before quickly making her way to Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. She had no idea if they would be able to hack the wards enough to get out, but she was never one to give up, no matter how uphill the battle was.
Shitshitshitshitshit. The heavy sound of the alarm was working its way into Pepper's bones, deep and worrying and making the short trip downstairs insufferably long even as he tried to secure the papers he'd been going over in his pockets. There was no way he was going to leave them on his desk, in the open, when something was going on, but nor was he ready to destroy them completely.
He entered the DMLE floor a step behind Millicent, and though he didn't see anyone who oughtn't be there (excepting Alana and Ted, both worryingly injured already) the scene was more hectic than he liked. Rather by far. He caught the smell of smoke - apparently Rufus hadn't had the same compunctions as him about burning files - and spotted Alice moving through the office towards the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts closet; she was saying something about wards, and with a grim nod to Millicent he headed after her. Wards he could do. And if the situation was that dire, he was sure he and Alice could put aside any differences that might be troubling them.
"Pepper!" A growl that surely belonged to Rufus sounded out after him, and before he had disappeared into the Muggle Artifacts office, Rufus had shoved a stack of papers into his (not quite) outstretched arms. "Keep these safe!" He barked in the politest way one could order a friend to do something.
Almost anyone's instinctual reaction when something was shoved at them was to take it, and Pepper was no different. More files, Rufus' files, and at any other time he'd be practically giddy over being just handed something like that, files so obviously important that they had to be saved, but now-- snakes. There were things more important than his incessant curiosity. "Got it." No time for lengthy conversation. Instead he just thanked whoever was out there that he was wearing proper robes, the wonderfully practical ones he loved because they weren't a ridiculous design with tiny pockets that were no good at all, or none at all. It might still be a stretch to get piles of parchment secured away, but he didn't need to get past a frisking. He just had to keep hold of it.
WAVE 1
Dorian, Aaron vs Jo, Frank, Elle (Frank joins the warders after this)
So they were completely fucked. After Ted and Alana had arrived with more reports on what was going on, the words "hack" and "wards" had been used in the same sentence, followed by more instructions from Rufus, which Frank was only too happy to follow. Alice -- he'd seen her depart for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office as other Aurors sprang into the action commanded of them, and while it brought him some ease of mind to know that she and their baby weren't directly in the line of fire, her absence by his side as the battle finally spilled into the department was one he felt keenly.
But bemoaning the fact that the person he trusted the most in combat situations wasn't here wouldn't help him now. He'd helped haul desks -- now his wand slid comfortably into his hand when the blockade that'd been erected proved useless in preventing the appearance of the first attackers in DMLE.
Light. There was too much bloody light in this place. Dorian had been invited along- at least, he preferred to think of it as invited along, rather than ordered- to help with this. Tonight, the Dark Army would get their leader back, and Dorian would be able to- well, he wasn't entirely sure what. As it were, he had a mission. And he was going to complete it, or- well, he couldn't really die trying. He was already dead.
He wasn't very familiar with the building, and it was bright enough inside that he had a pair of very dark sunglasses over his eyes, his long trousers and hooded top covering most of his skin. He'd been moving in with some of the Death Eaters- sticking to the shadows. And then it was time for the attack, and Dorian entered the floor, ready to face whoever dared stand up to him first.
So much for the security of desks. Against those who were determined to break into the DMLE, they proved to be a paltry barrier, and their crashing away from the lift was a staccato counter-harmony to the deep ringing of the Ministry-wide alarm. Frank spared one sliver of a moment to glance at Elle -- and as she moved to deal with one of the intruders, he turned his attention to the second, wand raised and at the ready. There was no doubt that the perpetrators had planned this attack to a T, which meant that this was merely the first of Merlin knew how many waves of attackers. Disabling these two would stall whatever their goal was and buy the other members of the DMLE time as both paperwork and wards were ransacked.
Dorian paid little attention to the werewolf he had been partnered with. His focus was on the task at hand; he wanted to take out as many as he could here before moving on. He watched as the man turned to him, that wand held up, and Dorian moved quickly, a faintly amused smile on his lips. "Hello there," he greeted the man, before moving quickly in an attempt to disarm him.
He was being circled; Frank fell into counter-step, the greeting going ignored as he eyed his opponent. There was no wand in his hands, which meant that either this man was some prodigy at wandless magic (unlikely), or he was a Muggle with a vested interest in participating in a full-blown attack on the Ministry of Magic. A Dark Creature, then -- a vampire, most likely, judging by the layers of clothes and the pallor of what could be seen of his skin.
Instantly, Frank knew what approach to take in getting rid of this man. As he jerked his arm away from the vampire's reach, he uttered the beginning of a Lumos -- the best spell to stun a vampire.
His hood fell back as Dorian moved to tackle the man at the first sign of a spell. He couldn't let him do any of his silly magic- no, Dorian couldn't afford to be at any more of a disadvantage. It was bad enough dealing with the light as it were, and there was no need to subject himself to any more-- or any of what those magic people might try to do to him.
And what a tackle Dorian threw himself into. The Lumos was interrupted halfway and reconfigured to a low wheeze of a grunt as the momentum behind the physical attack knocked not only Frank's wand from his hand, but the air from his lungs as well. The magical instrument that every Auror depended on fell to the floor as Frank grasped the vampire's arms in attempt to break his hold on him so that he could drop down and retrieve his wand.
Oh thank God- or whatever the hell was out there. Dorian heard the clatter of the wand as it hit the floor and he made to kick it aside for the time being. He felt Frank's hands on his arms and he moved to kick the other man's feet out from under him, not caring if it brought him to the ground as well.
A frustrated, panting "No" escaped Frank as his wand disappeared from his peripheral vision. This was now entirely physical -- and while this was the furthest thing from unusual in his line of work, the fact that his opponent was a vampire, and that others -- more vampires, dark creatures, Death Eaters -- might join him at any moment made Frank very uneasy. The Ministry was being overtaken by the enemy: he needed --
His wand, but it was the floor that greeted him first as Dorian's kick knocked his feet out from under him. Caught between the ground and the deceptively light vampire, Frank drew up one knee, then thrust it forcefully up against his assailant.
It had been a while since Dorian had been in a fight like this, and a part of him thought that it was going to be fun. He couldn't let himself be too distracted, and he pulled an arm back to punch the man when he caught the knee in his middle. It pushed him back with a slight sound- more of surprise than any real grunt. His hand moved up to shove his glasses back on his face as he moved back toward the man, swinging his fists.
The first punch landed squarely on his upper cheek, the force behind it driving Frank's head to the side. In a movement born of reflex, Frank struck out with his knee again, while his arm, bent and shielding his face, was brought rapidly up. He was breathing rapidly with exertion, and exhaled as Dorian's second fist collided with his arm, old wounds making the pain somewhat sharper than it normally would have been.
Dorian probably would have been sweating by this point if he was able to; as it were, he wasn't quite able to pull back in time to miss the knee- again- and it knocked him back, off the man and onto the floor with a noise of surprise. He rolled over onto his hands and knees, quickly assessing the situation and just what he'd be able to do next, finally deciding to fly back in his direction again, ready to scratch and tear at the other man.
Finally, the second he needed to get out of this helpless position. A split-second, no doubt, but the brief reprieve was all Frank needed to shove himself onto his knees. There was a throbbing tightness around the eye Dorian's fist had come into contact with -- Frank knew he'd be lucky if a shiner was all that he'd walk out of here with -- but his gaze was leveled steadily on Dorian as he quickly assessed what in the hell his next move should be.
Dorian gave him his answer. There was no way he'd reach his wand unless the vampire was somehow disabled enough to give him the time to retrieve it from where it'd been kicked; weakening him sufficiently, then, was what he'd have to do now. Dorian lunged, frightening in his speed, and as Frank allowed him to topple him back down, he struck out with his hand, thwacking those glasses from vampire's eyes, curling his fingers around it, and smashing them against his face.
Swept up in the hurricane-force chaos, Jo had seen very little of the actual fight and had instead worked to destroy whatever she could before they were overrun by the invading force. She had just swept clear of her desk when she caught a glimpse of Frank's altercation with the pale man in glasses - Vampire.
... coming up behind them, made three very swift moves: breaking a chair leg (they'd need a stake, wouldn't they?), she used her wand to conjure a shield charm around Frank and bellowed, "LUMOS MAXIMA!"
..He broke his glasses! Dorian was shocked as he heard the glasses snap at his face, and he brought a hand up to swipe away the pieces. As the light spell reared up, Dorian moved away on instinct with a loud hiss, sounding more like a wild mountain cat and less like- well, a human. Shadows. Darkness. He needed to find them, or he needed to get away, and he'd be damned if he went running back with his tail between his legs like one of those bloody werewolves. His hand came up to draw his hood back up and his attention turned to the new woman for a moment, eyes flicking back and forth between the two as he hesitated for a moment, trying to decide just what to do.
Jo's sense of timing was impeccable. The flare of light would be temporarily blinding to someone whose eyes were dilated and naturally attuned to shadows and darkness, and the combination of destroying those glasses and Lumos-ing the hell out of the vampire gave Frank the opportunity to roll away from the creature as it reared up. He'd thank Jo later -- now he was throwing himself at his wand, snatching it up from where Dorian had kicked it beside an overturned desk.
Holding the broken chair leg like a javelin, Jo circled Dorian, feinting every few seconds as if to taunt him into pouncing. She wanted to give Frank a moment to gather himself (for a moment was all they could spare) so he could finish the Dark Creature. It was only fair.
Dorian kept an eye on the man, though most of his attention remained on the woman. He did his best not to turn his back to either of them, and his mind was constantly trying to find a way to get back, to find the blessed relief of darkness. He rather thought that once this was over, he didn't want to venture out for the next month. Complete darkness for him. Crouching, he swept up another piece of wood, prepared to use it to defend himself if needed (hey, he was ready to use whatever he could to beat these two). Finally realizing that he needed to do something if he was going to get out of there, he circled once more and turned to swing at the man as he got close.
This time, Frank was ready for the strike. One swiftly taken step and a sidewards parry with his arm, and he was breaking Dorian's attack mid-swing even as he brought up his wand, the speed behind the movement causing him to shove the tip into a cord of muscle in the vampire's neck.
-- and then, after a yelled, "CONFRINGO," whipped it away again, casting shield charms around himself and Jo as he lunged back.
Moving with Frank, she passed off her stake to him and doubled the shield charm around them, giving him a crooked wink and a smile as they went.
Dorian had zero time to react as the wand caught him in the throat. There was no time to think as everything went black and his dead body exploded into many tiny pieces (rather a bit more dead, one would think), bits landing all over the nearby desks and floor, some even making it into the HR-required greenery.
A tight smile and a, "Thanks," was all they had time for. Chaos had long since erupted in the DMLE, and the smell of smoke as paperwork was incinerated could only be indicative of last-resort measures to safeguard information that could never be allowed to fall into the hands of the Death Eaters -- which meant that his colleagues and friends would be staying here until the last possible moment, until every document that needed to be destroyed went up in smoke.
Which meant they needed a way to get out fast.
The decision snapped into place. "Going to help with the wards," he said, and then made his way to the office of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts at a dead run.
Elle/Aaron fight in the locker rooms:
When the alarms had started going off Elle, first and foremost, had evanescoed all the paperwork dealing with the Werewolf Taskforce. It wasn't even something she wanted to risk getting into the wrong hands. As capable as Gladys was, the Taskforce wasn't her jurisdiction, and Elle wasn't going to risk the lives of any of the Force on the off chance that something could go wrong. The papers would be safe where she sent them. At least, safe enough for now.
She then moved to help Frank with the desks, though she hadn't been ordered to. She naturally gravitated toward one of her mentors (as the other one had been sent away) and aiding him came first and foremost to her mind. Her wand, already in hand, turned and pointed as the first wave came in. Her eyes settled on Aaron and they narrowed. That bastard. She flicked her wand and red light went flying toward the werewolf as she attempted to stun him. The man obviously recognized her; they had fought before in Hogsmeade when Hogwarts was attacked. He and his wife, his horrendous wife, had taken her down before she could be of any real assistance to the fight. She had let her anger at Al's situation fuel her, but now this was different. She'd long left her anger aside at Al's situation. Now it was her duty as Head of the Werewolf Taskforce, her duty to her job and her colleagues, that drove her. He dodged the spell and lunged at her, and she countered, shooting another stunner, followed by incarcerous. She wanted to keep him away from her as much as possible. Even though she was an accomplished hand-to-hand fighter, even she knew her limits. Werewolves were stronger, lither, and more dangerous. She was better equipped to fight him, successfully, with a wand. He managed to dodge the second stunner, but the ropes caught him around the wrist and threw him off balance. She glanced around her and realized, very quickly, that things could very easily get out of hand.
One hand slapped against the ground as Aaron reacted to the ropes, and he twisted, lunging, and forced himself toward the girl's legs. At his lips was a leering snarl, and he tore at one ankle with a dirty, clawlike hand, ripping it out from under her; but she wasn't going down without a fight, and he could feel her struggle against him. Like any predator, he didn't want to risk too much harm to himself just for a kill -- particularly when they had all the time in the world -- and so he backed off a few paces, free from range of kicks and jabs (curse those bloody wands).
Elle flew backwards, twisting ever slightly to cast a cushioning charm - she didn't need to have the wind knocked out of her - but his grip was tighter on her ankle than she anticipated. Fuck. She felt the twist and the shooting pain as she hit the ground lightly, thanks to the cushioning charm. He let her go and she immediately rolled and cast a freezing spell. Her adreneline pumping, she scrambled backwards from him to deny him access to lunge at her and cast a jelly legs jinx soon after. She didn't want him getting near her, but given the fact she was suddenly less mobile than before, she wasn't sure how long it was going to last.
A snarl echoed out of him as his legs collapsed beneath him, anger twisting and tainting his expression into one of unhindered malice. Fuck his legs, Aaron had arms and by damn he'd use them to end this bitch. With inhuman strength, he rolled toward a near desk and, using only his arms, dragged himself upwards, upwards, and then, with the wood as leverage, threw himself at the woman, claws out and scratching, grasping, ripping. Saliva sprayed across her as he roared in visceral pleasure, and he threw a punch. If he couldn't walk, then he'd make it so she couldn't breathe.
Fuck! She dodged the punch, but was unable to avoid the claws as they raked down her arms. Her own balance compromised, she stumbled backwards with his claws digging into her arms, and fell backwards into the locker room. She narrowly avoided one of the benches, but she didn't have the help of a cushioning charm, and the air left her lungs.
She still had her wand, though, and silently cast deprimo to get him off her, and shoved herself to her feet as soon as she could.
The problem with being a muggle fighting a wizard, beside the obvious, was the perpetual forgetting that wizards could not only cast magic but cast it silently. Caught completely off guard, Aaron flew backward, hip ripping open to nearly the bone. He howled in anger, one hand smearing across the blood and gristle. He had control of his legs again (albeit tenuously), and he forced them into a crouch... but even as he thought to tend to his blood, something made him stop -- a smell. Her smell.
Fire lit in his eyes as he realised where that smell had come from. The traitor wolf. The one who'd gotten Tabitha thrown in prison. Her smell had been all over him.
Rage like nothing he'd ever felt blew all intelligence from Aaron's mind, and, bleeding harder and faster with the strain, he launched himself back at the girl, all fists and teeth and knees. He wanted to taste her blood, to feel her bones break beneath his; the smell was driving him insane, and all he was aware of was the softness of her flesh as he tore into it, the fragility of female bones as he ground himself across them. She'd pay. She'd pay for the sins of the other wolf.
Something changed. Not that he hadn't been a formidable foe before, but now the fire in his eyes, the strength of his attack... this was not good. Elle tumbled backwards once more, blocking and returning punches as she could. Her wand flew from her hands with the force of his attack and she heard it clatter to the floor. There was a sickening crack as they hit the floor and his weight all came down on his knee... which came down on her ribs. She was blind for a moment with the sharp flash of pain, and she was worried she would black out right there.
However, her will and adreneline were on her side, and her sight returned to her just in time. She blocked a punch with her left arm despite the way her ribs protested and then reached down and did something unspeakable, even to herself. She latched her fingers into the wound at his hip and pulled, hard, upwards. She felt the blood ooze over her hand, but tried to keep her grip tight. When her life was on the line, she was not about to play fair.
The noise that erupted from Aaron's lungs was not a natural one -- nor was it one of pain or grief. He seemed, he felt incapable of any emotion or sensation but pure, unadulterated rage, and the howl of utter contempt that drew blood and sweat down upon her echoed across the padded training room walls, punctuated by the sharp, painfully loud pants that sucked dirty air into tired lungs. He wanted to end her, more than anything, he wanted to avenge his wife's suffering, to tear her apart, to exact his loss with a pound of flesh. He hungered for her screams, nearly delirious with her smell and his own pain.
Wound together as they were (an almost erotic sort of intimacy), Aaron had very little natural leverage. So what? He'd fucking make his own; one hand stretched forward for her hair, her neck -- textures felt and enjoyed in the sharp span of less than a second, and he dragged himself into her shoulder, her throat a mere handhold for now, and sunk his teeth as hard and as far into the joint as he could drive himself. A sickening pop lurched against his teeth as he twisted her arm at angles that were entirely wrong -- as the socket and joint divorced themselves. He didn't give a fuck about her head anymore, and threw it away from him and toward the adjoining wall with an indifference that he would surely pay for.
Well, he got part of what he asked for. His teeth dug into her skin and while she held it for a moment... the dull pop and the excruciating pain elicited a scream of pain and frustration. He threw the upper half of her body away with extraordinary strength, and her head cracked the edge of the bench with a sickening crunch. Darkness clawed at the edges of her vision and she nearly gave into it.
No. NO! She would not end here. Not like this. She wrenched her eyes open and the world spun around her... and she was suddenly able to focus on one thing. That thin, long, delicate piece of wood that would be her salvation. With a last bout of adreneline, she writhed herself from from his grasp, feeling his claws dig into her flesh, and she kicked him hard with her good leg. She had to get him off. She had to get away.
She scrambled, barely able to move with the injuries that plagued her, but her fingers of her wand hand (if there was any gods above, they had spared her injury to that arm) and rolled onto her back, her wand aimed directly at Aaron. In a strange moment of sick pleasure, she waited until he came at her again and then screamed the one thing that could save her life.
"Avada Kedavra!"
It was almost funny to feel the look of surprise mingle with what must have been a look of murderous fury, but laughter wasn't a reaction that came easily in times like this -- and the best emotion Aaron could come up with before he simply dropped dead (hands still tangled around her belly, breasts, and hips and flesh still dangling from his teeth), was a sad, sudden, fear. The AK gave very little time for self-pity, but even an animal knew when its time was at an end, and he stared into the split-second of green with a sense of loss; no more Tabitha, no more fresh, wild smells; no more blood.
And then it was over, and Elle was left with a heavy, bleeding corpse across her lower half.
The flash of green glowed sickly on the walls, and Elle cried out - though whether it was pain, triumph, anger, or sorrow... she couldn't really tell. Aaron's body collapsed onto her own broken one and she tried, for a moment, to fight the blackness that called to her until her strength waned and she collapsed back onto the floor, unconscious.
WAVE 2
Gaius, Demetrius, Aquila Vs Ted, Dedalus, Rufus
Despite the soreness in his muscles and the burning in his arm, which was currently being cradled against his chest despite how counterproductive of a position it was, he couldn't help but feel...elated. The fight with Meadowes had ended well (even if he hadn't ended it) and coming up from the Department of Mysteries into the actual fight was a good enough reward.
Gripping his wand, he looked around. Shooting a few slicing spells and stunners around him, not really caring who he hit, he walked into the thick of the fighting, ready to be challenged.
Ted was, all in all, doing pretty well so far. He had a few scrapes and bruises from the run-in back in his department, and he'd nearly tripped over his own two feet getting up the stairs. His wand was held tightly in his hand, and his shoulder was a little sore, but he supposed it could be worse. He was on his way to cross the room when he felt a slicing spell fly just past him and he wheeled around, casting a freezing charm (honestly, it was the first thing to come out of his mouth and his wand) in the direction that it came from.
Throwing up a hasty Shield Charm, Demetrius looked around for the source of the spell and scowled. The spell had ruined his shield, but luckily it hadn't hit him. He took a few more steps forward, towards who he assumed was his target. Thinking quickly, he cast a silent Diffindo at him and then waited, wary. He was already hurt, anymore injuries and he would be utterly useless for the rest of the night... he had to be more careful than he was downstairs.
His wand came up to cast a shield charm just half a second too late; the spell sliced through his right arm (Ted was suddenly thankful that his parents had never given him grief about being left-handed). He cried out in pain, but didn't have time to think much more about it as he cast an Impedimenta just before another shield charm and looked about, trying to figure out just which wizard (or witch) had cast the spell.
Frozen in mid-motion as he was raising his wand for a shield charm, he rolled his eyes internally. Great, he was frozen. Thinking as many horrible spells as he possibly could, he considered which one to use once he had his full range of motion back. After a minute or so, he felt his limbs freeing up and he was able to move again. Casting a wild and silent Sectumsempra, he took a breath and hoped for the best.
Ted could almost feel his shield charm go down and he was just casting another when he felt the slashing at his arm. He nearly dropped his wand, stumbling back a few feet before he regained his balance. Breathe,Tonks, he reminded himself, reaching up to brush his hair back from his eyes with shaky fingers. If he could just get out of this alive, then he could get home to his girls and everything would be fine. His wand came up and he cast a blasting curse at a nearby desk- hoping it would provide at least a little distraction as he cast a Furnunculus quickly followed by a jelly-legs jinx.
The exploding desk behind him caused Demetrius to jump a bit and turn, splinters and hunks of wood flying at them, but he was lucky enough to duck the desk and also duck the spells, though the second came a bit too close for comfort. Once he stood again, dusting a few splinters off his robe (a few embedding themselves into his burnt hand much to his chagrin and pain), and formulating a plan. He sent a blasting curse into the nearest wall, and then shot a silent Incendio, though the flames that shot out of his wand were disappointingly smaller than he would have been able to cast if he could actually verbalize spells.
"Avi-aguamenti!" Ted started, and a few soggy birds flew out of the end of his wand before he turned the water toward the flame as he dove out of the way, catching a piece of splintered wood in the shoulder. He rolled back up to his feet, sending another blasting curse in the direction of the other person. What else, what else, what else could he do? Another shield charm, and possibly a repello for whatever came at him next? He tried it, not sure how much good either would do.
The ridiculous soggy birds caught him off guard, and one of them made it close enough to claw at his mask. Swatting it away, he rolled his eyes exasperatedly. Soggy birds, really? Now that was just stupid. But people panicked, it was natural. Sighing, he flicked his wand upward and thought Levicorpus sharply, taking a few steps forward as he did so.
Ted gasped as he found himself upside down in the air; a part of him couldn't quite help but be glad for the Muggle clothes he wore under his robes. He didn't have time to dwell on that for long as he lost his grip on his wand and it dropped to the floor, just out of his reach. He stretched a hand out toward it, trying to silently summon it before the Death Eater tried to hurt him any worse.
Taking a few more steps forward towards the only person in the room hanging by their ankle, Demetrius silently summoned his own flock of (not soggy!) birds, sending them flying at the dangling man silently, hoping their pecking and clawing would be effective enough to let him stop and catch his breath.
Giving up on his wand for the moment, Ted brought his hands up to shield his face as the birds came flying at him. He could feel scratches and bites, and he swatted away at a few, which only seemed to anger them. Wandless magic. Ted wondered if he could get it to work. He took a careful breath, wincing as he felt more scrapes along his cut arm and abdomen. Repello, he tried (concentrating as hard as he could, given the flock of birds around him), knowing it wouldn't be enough for the Death Eater, but perhaps it would be enough to ward the birds off for at least a little bit.
Liberacorpus, he thought with a wave of his wand. With another wave, the birds had disappeared, having been effective enough for his satisfaction. Throwing a Stupefy in his direction, Demetrius was getting a bit more at ease, and moving with less caution. His muscles were screaming and he felt like he seriously needed a rest, more than anything. But he knew he had to keep fighting. He readied himself, another spell on the tip of his tongue (figuratively more so than literally, as he couldn't really talk), anticipating retaliation.
Ted was on the ground before he really knew what was happening; he landed somewhere between his head and his shoulder- he heard a rather loud snap and his right arm fell limp to the ground. He was in pain- his breathing was heavy and he was ready to just curl up and pass out right there, but he scrambled for his wand. He fumbled a bit before finally getting a decent grasp on it and he pointed it to a desk just behind the Death Eater. He managed to get it in the air (though it was wobbly; Ted could feel the every muscle of his shaking) and released it with a flick of the wrist, sending it in the direction of the other wizard.
The desk hit Demetrius full force, knocking him to the floor, there was a painful-sounding crunch and he let out an involuntary shout of pain. Gasping for breath, he laid totally still for a moment, his anger building up. He'd have to get Barty to fix his ribs later, too. After a moment to catch his breath, he felt around and grabbed his wand, using it to overturn the desk so he could finally pull himself to his feet. His legs were shaking, he had to hunch over- standing up straight seemed like the most painful thing he could even consider. He couldn't go on like this much longer, really. He just fired spells in a rather desperate, rapid succession; Confringo, diffindo, sectumsempra, deprimo, and hoped at least one of them hit as his legs buckled momentarily, and he was on the floor gasping for breath.
He could barely move, though Ted tried his hardest to get out of the way of the spells. A nearby desk exploded beside him and he brought an arm up to cover his face just in time. Another spell hit him and he cried out as he felt the slashing pain in his middle before it overtook him and everything faded to black.
Seeing his opponent finally fall unconscious, Demetrius carefully pushed himself up to a standing position and looked around for his fellows, ready to rejoin the fighting...somewhat. The stiffness in his body was overtaking him and he paid no mind to his former opponent as he shot spells into the fighting randomly, hoping sincerely no more harm would befall him.
Rufus's attentions had been elsewhere as the second wave of death eaters flooded in, and he was still frantically shoving papers beneath his robes and through the office door (which sweltered and buckled against the heat of flame and ashed parchment) when one of Mulciber's spells caught him across the arm. The stack of notes and folders went flying, and he turned at once, though the culprit was lost in the fray; no matter, there were several other figures he could fixate on, and it was toward one that he sent an angry blasting hex, attentions half-heartedly turned upon throwing papers into the office even as he erected a shield spell to stave off any distractions.
"What are you still doing here, Rufus?" Dedalus looked frightened, but had a shield spell up as well, approaching Rufus carefully. This was the very last thing Dedalus expected to happen, and he felt foolish for believing 1980 couldn't get worse than 1979. What would happen now that Death Eaters were running rampant through their Ministry? Aside from the obvious, of course.
Gaius was among the Death Eaters infiltrating the DMLE with the second wave. As he tried to scope out the room and make a mental tally of those present, a blasting hex whizzed by his head. He jumped to the side, his useless left arm bumping painfully against his side. He wasn't about to let this be a repeat of what had happened earlier - and these were Aurors; he'd have to be much better focused. After briefly gathering himself, he fired a Stunning Spell in the direction of the first target that registered in his line of vision.
Aquila trailed after Gaius, on guard but almost nonchalant. There was a certain, strange sort of glee in his eyes as he regarded the once triumphant DMLE, soon to be fallen. Unlike some of his compatriots, he had no one person he held a particular grudge against. Instead, the entire DMLE under the grasp of the Dark Lord would sate his vengeance for his family's dishonour. As such, he sought only to help where he could and destroy what he could. He had noticed Gaius' arm and so followed him, not wishing the impairment to cause his downfall.
He caught sight of a wide-eyed and rather pathetic-looking blond wizard who hovered behind a shield rather than fighting. Easy target, he thought, and sent a whizzing firecracker of a spell toward him, hoping to dispel his shield, followed by a Stunning Spell. He would start small, and measure him up. After all, he reminded himself, looks could be deceiving.
"Where else would I go, Diggle?" Rufus asked with an almost bland sort of confusion, and it was a pity that he had to jump to avoid the stunning spell, because had he remained near Dedalus, he might have actually been able to help the poor fellow against Aquila's attack. As it was, his attentions turned instead upon Gaius, scorn narrowing his attentions into something like tunnel vision. Anger spilled across his insides, a sharp, careful sort of emotion that piqued his efficiency rather than tainting it. "Stupefy!" He growled, throwing out a nonverbal Reducto right after it.
Dedalus' attentions were also interrupted by the spells sent in their direction. The first one hit his shield, and though it flickered momentarily, Dedalus willed it not to fail on him. Not now. There was obviously no time for small talk, so with his wand pointed at Aquila, he sent a stunning spell in his direction in retaliation. Unlike them, he wasn't there to kill.
Across the room, Gaius side-stepped the first curse aimed at him; however, that left him to walk directly into the line of the second. He felt himself instantly airborne and in the few seconds he had before he crash-landed into a very hard desk, he aimed his wand as steadily as he could at Rufus and shouted "Sectumsempra!"
Holy shit; Rufus thanked his lucky stars -- or whatever they were, he'd always been bollocks at divination -- that Gaius hadn't had the forethought to make that spell silent. Rufus unabashedly threw himself to the floor, fear of getting caught in that spell making his ego less important for the moment. He didn't think anyone around had the ability to heal him quickly enough, and Lach had vanished elsewhere the last he'd checked.
Feeling himself to be sure there were no unhealthy cuts anywhere, Rufus rolled out of the way of a damned stupefy that came behind the desk from Merlin knew where. He didn't have time for this.
The desk made for an ample shield, and he waited behind it, hoping the death eater was dumb enough to take that as a hint that he'd been hit. Sliding to the rightmost edge, he finally shoved himself out from behind it, two rather unorthodox curses flying toward Gaius
While Gaius was occupied with the ginger-haired Auror, Aquila focused on quickly dodging the spell Dedalus sent toward him. He twirled his wand once, planted his feet, and copied Gaius' last spell - one of his favourites, the Sectumsempra. Severus had always had a brilliant knack for Dark invention, and Aquila had always found blood strangely alluring. He fired several at his blond opponent, taking his time to aim. It would be over quickly, he thought. He never enjoyed playing around so much, though he did enjoy the sight of so much red. It was his favourite colour.
Not being a Death Eater, Dedalus wasn't well-versed in dark magic, and no matter what, he'd refuse to use it. The spells that hit him tore through his body, but miraculously, the pain wasn't nearly as bad as he anticipated it to be. Before the very last could connect with his body, he flicked his wrist and silently created another shield of protection. Slipping into unconsciousness, his eyes drifted over to the fight between Gaius and Rufus.
To Part 4