Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-05-01 02:21:00 |
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BASH 6/13 c. Severus(7) vs Caradoc(8) The mark burning on his arm was not a surprise for Severus Snape. He'd found himself sitting restlessly in his sitting room wondering what would happen at the castle. Thus, when he'd been summoned, he'd carefully stood up, put away the book he had not been reading - although it had been open on his lap - donned his cloak and mask, and he Apparated to Hogwarts. The wards were down - something he'd expected - and he could see and hear the sounds of battle all around him. He instantly cast a shield charm and none too quickly as a curse from somewhere bounced off of the nearby greenhouses and ricocheted towards him. Reflexes and instinct set in and he cast a second shield charm as he quickly moved towards another Death Eater who was battling a man Severus didn't recognise. This was the part of what he did that he truly hated. It was the dirty painful and frequently deadly element, that he could not risk taking lightly - and yet the last time he had been in a battle on these grounds, it had been Agnes who had ended up on the other end of his wand and their relationship had never had a chance to recover fully. Severus did not have time or even inclination to worry about whom the other Death Eater might be, his intention was to get through this battle - to hopefully not kill anyone on the other side, and to hopefully not die himself. Although technically, not dying himself was more important than not killing someone on the other side. Snape shot a tripping jinx at the other man - Severus could only assume he was a member of the Order although he supposed that he could also be former Ministry - and followed it by a silent expelliarmus. This battle was growing more ridiculous by the moment; these black-cloaked figures were like swarming rats. Angrily, Caradoc struck down Severus's jinxes with slashes from his wand and strode to stand opposite the newly arrived Death Eater. He was going to have to go for a far more creative arsenal than that. With the forest at his back, he drew a line of fire in the air (giving his lessons with Marlene and her proclivity toward fire-magic) and snapped his wrist, feeling it snake from the end of his wand like a whip. He snapped the fiery weapon as a test, to make sure it held, before angling it toward the Death Eater, wanting to burn that mask away. Fire? was about all that Severus had time to think before the flames were rushing towards his face and he sidestepped, rapidly, but not quite quickly enough that the flames did not catch his arm and shoulder. He cast a quick shield charm, followed by aguamenti at his the sleeve of his robes. The water put out the fire and rather cooled the wounds, but Severus didn't have time to think about the fact that he'd been burned almost at the moment he'd jumped into battle, he clearly needed to think. This man, whomever he was, was not going to play nice. Severus snapped his wand back at Caradoc, quickly muttering "Confingo." Had he had time to debate it to himself, the blasting curse might have seemed like over-kill, but he'd realised very quickly that this man was not going to play about with him, and if were self-defense, Severus would rather live. The downfall about the fire-whip was, of course, that one's wand was preoccupied and as Severus uttered the Blasting curse, Caradoc had little time to shield himself. He was blown from his feet into the underbrush below a yew tree. Scratches and bruises were of no consequence to him. "You're going to have to do better than that, Death Eater," he said. Taunting had never particularly set well with Severus. As a boy it had nearly always been Potter or Black doing the taunting, and it had nearly always been followed by some sort of unfair (or at least unfair in Snape's opinion) attack against him. So, when Caradoc taunted him, Severus's jaw set. He didn't give the man a chance to move back or recover from the blast into the tree, but rather immediately stepped forward, his wand still in front of him. "Sectumsempra," he cast the hex without hesitation, although he did aim more for the man's arms than his chest which might have killed him. As it was, the spell should do nothing more than scar him, and remind him that he really shouldn't taunt Death Eaters some of whom would not have been nearly as considerate as Severus had just been - and damn his arm hurt from the burns. The curse cut deep into his (thankfully) non-wand arm, eliciting a hiss of pain from him as he regarded his opponent with a greater measure of respect and wariness. He had already cast an Unforgivable tonight and the thought of doing so again didn't bother him but not yet. "Relashio!" he growled, sending a jet of crimson sparks into the Death Eater's face as he went barrelling toward the tall, slight man at full speed. The pain in his shoulder was more distracting than Severus would have liked for it to have been, but there was nothing to be done about it. His eyes closed instinctively at the crimson sparks being shot into his face, and he quickly waved his wand at them, whisking them away. But the instant it had taken to do that was an instant too long - Caradoc was rushing at him. Severus took a step backwards waving his wand and crying, "Impedimenta", but he was afraid that it might have been too little too late. ... and it was, for Caradoc was upon him, pinning his limbs and ripping that gruesome mask off his face to reveal little more than a child. It still shocked him - though it shouldn't, as he thought of Marlene's age - to think that they were using such young soliders in this war. Nevertheless, his youth did not save him for he began to savagely (and repeatedly) punch him in the face. Shit, no fuck, really - because although he knew most of the other side recognised him as a Death Eater, he still did not think it was going to be acceptable that he allowed his mask to be ripped off of him in the middle of battle. But that thought was cut short as Caradoc's fists met his nose and his face, and however frequently he had laughed with Abe about his nose attracting people's fists, Severus was not happy about that happening now and if he'd had time to think about the fact that he was supposed to be getting married tomorrow, he'd have been even less thrilled about it. Angrily, Severus rammed the elbow of his non-wand hand into the other man's rib cage as hard as he could, considering the awkward position he now found himself in. At the same time, he used his wand to cast aguamenti as close to the other man's eyes as he could. Sputtering, the jet of water was more successful in dislodging him from Severus than the elbow to the ribs and as he clambered to his feet, he pushed the damp locks of hair from his forehead. He wished he had a knife or a gun, fucking fuck, anything to stick the man with. He settled, instead, for a twig that he enlarged to the size of a javelin with the help of engorgio before sending it hurtling at Severus's midsection. Severus' eyes widened at the site of the twig hurtling towards him. He'd barely had time to think about getting to his feet before the man had both charmed the thing larger and thrown it and now he rolled over and hopefully out of the way of the thing. But he wasn't quite quick enough, and the javelin pierced through his right side. The pain from it made Severus draw in a quick breath, and a momentary panic as he looked down at the blood rapidly pooling outwards from the wound. "Sectumsempra," he slashed at the man again, this time not bothering to be nice as he aimed straight at Caradoc's chest. Severus could feel his concentration slipping in and out with the pain and if he couldn't stop it he was very aware of the fact that this man would kill him without any regret. He cast a shield charm, the strongest he could manage to hopefully beat off anything else that the man might cast at him while he pulled the twig - if it could even be called that anymore - from his side. He hissed, Suo Derma at the wound, not even certain if the spell he'd learned from Dolohov would work. He knew that it would hold it, but probably not for long, and certainly not with the amount of movement necessary while duelling this man. He turned his attention back to his opponent to see if his spell had hit. Caradoc had deflected the curse with a slash of his wand and smirked, categorising it as his favourite. He'd be prepared if the Death Eater decided to throw it again. As he stitched himself up beneath the shield, Caradoc narrowed his eyes in further consideration of his opponent and wished he had a gun. He loved guns. With a shrug, however, he took two steps toward his opponent and then Disapparated, only to re-materialize further into the woods. He wanted to distract him from the Order's less able members and if he could lead him in the woods to leave him for the creatures, so much the better. Hide and seek was it then? Severus could have almost sighed with frustration. He ached everywhere and he was afraid Apparation would retear out the possibly poorly cast stitches. Gritting his teeth, he firmly put the pain as far back to the back of his mind as he could and he Apparated after the other man, his mind already on his next spell. As quickly as his feet cleared the ground, Severus pointed his wand at a nearby tree sending a fury of angry leaves, twigs, and anything else easily shaken from the tree towards Caradoc. That distraction - or at least he hoped it was a distraction was followed by a surprisingly well-focused "Crucio" that he held - let the other man feel pain for a while. A strong "Depulso!" to rid himself of the leafy mess unfortunately did not depulse the Cruciatus curse and he fell hard, twisting upon his back as if stuck on the head of a pin. He was used to pain, he could stand it, but this kept coming and as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly to take his mind away, he conjured Meaghan's face, even going so far as to gasp out her name. She could keep this fire in his nerves at bay. Severus held the Cruciatus perhaps longer than necessary, but he was furious. Furious with himself for having allowed himself to be so injured and furious with this man whom - through no fault of his own it had to be acknowledged - was trying to kill someone who was not technically the enemy. The instant he dropped the unforgivable from Caradoc, Severus moved his wand towards a nearby stone, dislodging it, and moving it straight towards Caradoc's head, followed by a silent incarcerous. It was as he cast the final spell, that the screams from the man finally filtered into his head causing him to pause rather dangerously and give the man a sharp look. Meaghan? There were any number of women in the United Kingdom named Meaghan, certainly, but the odds against someone else from the Order or from the former Ministry crying out that name when being tortured seemed rather astronomical, and for not the first time since joining the battle, Severus felt as if he had no idea what to do. The man would kill him - Severus was certain of it. Caradoc had no idea who Severus was and no reason not to do so. But now Severus had even less desire to kill him now than he'd had before, despite the pain he was trying to compartmentalize away. It was by little less than luck that Caradoc, upon feeling the cessation of the unforgivable in conjunction with the stone that bludgeoned his temple, was able to escape the magical ropes. He rose, reeling a little drunken as he leaned against the tree and took a long moment to consider his opponent. They were ever younger and he was getting too old, too tired, too fucking sad ... He did not want this. He wanted her soft arms curling around his waist, her hair spilling over his breast. Not this. Severus eyed Dearborn almost warily. The name was floating back to him and to have his opponent have a name somehow made everything worse. They were separated from the battle now by trees and brush, and Severus could not help but think although it was but the briefest flash of a thought how much he hated this. The last time he had been on the Hogwart's grounds it had been Agnes he'd hurt so deeply. He couldn't hesitate. Abe had told him this again and again, and despite the fact that he now knew the man's identity, it was still true. Dearborn didn't know his, and he could still die tonight if he hesitated. And Severus truly did not want to die. With a crisp decision he cast a conjunctivitus curse at Dearborn. It would be painful and it might slow him down, but it probably wouldn't kill him. Half-aware, he struck down the curse and stared out at Severus. Stared him fucking down. "I see you clearly now," he said slowly, "as I did on the battlefield. You and I are not so different, I am willing to go to extremes to do what I must to protect what I love. I understand." Pause. He was now more clear-headed, if still slowed down, and wiped the blood trickling from his head with the back of his hand. "But I hope, when you think about all the lives you've held in your hands, that your heart is wrung dry. If I don't kill you tonight, biterness will catch up to you when you're old as me. And she's a cruel mistress, make no mistake." But he was done soliloquizing. With a flourish of his wand, he aimed a bone twisting curse (with a nice shattering element, just for effect) along Severus's right side. Unforgivables were one thing; psychological torture was another; but Caradoc was the sort who preferred to wreak physical havoc on his opponent. If only Dearborn knew, Severus thought briefly, annoyed that the curse hadn't hit - pain in the eyes followed by an incarcerous or something similar would have made this much simpler. The man was clearly capable and was making Severus aware of how much he still needed to learn when it came to duelling. His eyes were cold as he stared at Dearborn, showing nothing of the reality he held deep inside his heart. "Deprimo," the blasting curse hurled towards Dearborn at approximately the same time the bone twisting curse came flying towards Severus' side. Snape moved, thinking too late that he should have simply blocked, but the curse hit - albeit along the edges of his ribcage and Severus couldn't help but cry out with the pain. It threaded through his body sharp and deep making him feel almost as if he would throw up with the unbearability of it. He staggered, hitting a tree trunk behind him and crying out again as the jar reinvented the pain all over again. For a moment Severus was certain he was going to die. For a moment, he was certain he would prefer death. But he couldn't die, he wouldn't. "Furnunculus," he added, growling the curse out between his teeth, and wondering if he'd have the concentration to even make it stick. The blasting curse, its teeth sharp and jagged, bit into his side and took away a good portion of it as he staggered back, his fist pushed into himself to hold up what he did not want to know. His drunken path made him miss the other curse and he was only half-aware of an oak sprouting a mass of knobbly boils before he sank to one knee and aimed a shaky wand at Severus. Gathering his strength, he bellowed "REDUCTO!" and fell upon his side. There was no way Severus could move quickly enough to escape Dearborn's curse, and it was lucky, perhaps, that the man's wand had been so shaky as he cast it. The shield charm Severus cast was strong enough to deflect it (mostly) so that it only grazed Severus' hand, cleanly removing two fingers before blasting a hole in the centre of a tree behind him. The pain in his side was so great that Severus was would have been unaware of the loss of his fingers were it not for the blood soaking his robes. He felt light-headed, and was thankful for the tree against his back as he was certain by himself he would have fallen over. He had no way of knowing if Dearborn was done, or still able to cast spells, and so he gritted his teeth against the pain and the darkness that kept threatening to close in around his vision and pointed his wand at the other man mirroring the reducto back at the other man. His opponent's blasting curse (though weakened) hit him where he lay among the spongy moss, lifting him from the ground to be thrown further into the woods, amongst the trees as his flickering gaze met the canopy above. The great, twisting boughs seemed as arms reaching toward him, the leaves merely the palms of those benevolent hands beckoning him ... He didn't know how much longer he had or how long he could last. Meaghan's sweet face, not as last he saw her, but upon that night that she declared her love to him and destroyed all his well constructed defences, was foremost in their mind. After that their child, who he could imagine with little difficulty. With them stood Marlene, who was what he wished his daughter could have been and Remus, who took such good care of her even beyond his own reaching. Beyond, somewhere in the dark forest shadows, Marion and Fiona stood. Though he could not see them, their presence was palpable. They had been waiting patiently. All these were the people he loved. This was his family. "It's ok," he told himself, his voice only a shade of what it was. "It's ok -- " and his head turned to rest upon the soft pine-needles blanketing the forest floor. He needed to rest. With eyes closing, with breath growing shallow ... They'll come. They'll find me ... There was no answering curse. The tree and sheer determination were possibly the only thing holding him upright, and Severus turned his head away from the Order member, trying not to think about what the fact that there was no answering curse meant. In truth, the pain that accompanied this movement, and the reality of a new wave of nausea, swept the thought cleanly from his mind for the time being. He turned his head back out to the castle just wanting to be out of the Forest, wanting - Lily and yet hoping at the same time that she hadn't been here. He pushed himself away from the tree, moving with determined steps back towards the clearing - it sounded as if the noise from the Castle grounds had changed, but Severus couldn't see what might have caused that, and he very nearly didn't care. If he stayed in the woods he would die and he couldn't die: He wouldn't die. He was supposed to get married tomorrow. But he was weak, and the loss of blood had worsened now, compounded no doubt by the broken bones that felt as if they were scraping his insides with every movement. He sunk to his knees on the edge of the forest, the darkness kept pulling at the sides of his vision and he felt like he needed to rest and he was too weak to consider doing otherwise. His hand buried in his robes in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding he pointed his wand hand upward, casting shaky sparks into the air to hopefully gather someone's attention before giving into the darkness. d. Aeneas(3), Bella(7) vs Pepper(7), Rufus(4) There were more people here now than when he had first arrived, Aeneas Nott noticed, the grass - a mixture of the fresh and the dead - crunching under his feet as he moved further and futher away from the burning hut behind him. They had called for back-up after finding more opposition than they had anticipated, but it seemed that the strength of the opposition was increasing as well. None of this concerned Aeneas, though, as the chilly night air blew about him, biting his fingertips. Aside from his hands he barely noticed the chill, his mask protecting his face and his robes cloaking the rest of his body. There were more than enough competent Death Eaters in the Dark Lord's service, and few wizards in the nation could rival the Inner Circle in magic. There was little to worry about; instead, there was only anticipation of the next fight. Like Aeneas, Bellatrix was assured of their victory. These rebels had disturbed them for far too long and she was anxious to show them the power of the Dark Lord's might. Though she yet wore her mask and robes (who knew how long those would remain in place, however), her hair flew in inky curls from her back. The frosty air exhilarated her. She was ready. She was long-ready. Rufus popped into existence somewhere near the castle proper, looking grim. He waited a few seconds for the familiar sound of Pepper appearing close by and then set off to find the nearest group of vagrants. He'd had enough to worry about these last couple weeks and wasn't really looking forward to a battle on schoolgrounds, though at least the school hadn't seen any children for quite some time. It was impossible not to notice the regal form of Bellatrix Lestrange before them; her bearing, her hair, and her gender, especially, made her exceptionally visible on the battlefield, and Rufus felt a surge of anger. It was her bastardly family that had taken Jo and so many others away from them. Jogging forward across the grounds, Rufus levelled his wand at her. But he couldn't hit a woman in the back. He doubted Pepper had any such compunction. Pepper did not. At least, not with this particular woman; he was far too aware of what Bellatrix Lestrange was capable of, what her husband was capable of, the pair of them representing everything they were fighting against, and he sincerely doubted that either of them would hesitate to attack from behind. His only pause was in deciding what spell to use, settling on the conjunctivitis curse though his fingers itched to open with something that would make her scream. Tactically, her eyes were probably a better target. Her reaction times would be far slower if she had difficulty seeing them, and they would need that time to keep their defenses up. Figures appeared in the dark in front of him, and, stepping quietly, Aeneas recognised a tawny-haired man standing with some other man. Rufus Scrimgeour. Aeneas had not had the pleasure of seeing him face-to-face since he was being carted off to Azkaban, and Rufus had never answered the Minister's inquiry about his leg. Aeneas would relish the chance to face Rufus once again, perhaps even to take him out. Of course, he was not so focused on the idea of besting Rufus Scrimgeour that he did not notice what else was going on. The two men had their wands pointed straight at Bellatrix Lestrange, who had her back toward them. Protego, he casted silently, putting up a shield in front of Bellatrix. Hopefully he would still have the element of surprise on them, but he needed a spell that could easily hit both men at the same time. "INCENDIO!" he shouted, casting flames at the two of them, alerting Bellatrix of their presence at the same time. ... and alert Bellatrix Aeneas did. She spun upon her heel, taking notice of the direction in which Aeneas sent his spell. She smiled wide, her teeth bared and shining in the moonlight as she flourished her wand at the darker haired opponent. Who needed stealth when Bellatrix's curses were nigh unstoppable? "Crucio!" Right at his heart. Shields that were already being raised were battered by the first spell, and at the second flickered, weakened and fell. Some of the shock, yes, was absorbed by them, but still Pepper felt his veins sear with pain, and stumbled backwards, teeth clenched tightly as he forced himself to fight it, get another shield up. Both their opponents were skilled, but strangely he didn't feel much fear or trepidation at the idea. Better they pin them down here, keep them busy, and leave the others for the others. This wide open area, though, did more to unnerve him. Better to draw the Death Eaters somewhere a little more confined. As flames burst around his shield, Rufus growled at Bellatrix's go-to choice of spells, and, in a fit of pettiness, sent a stunner at her, followed by a tripping jinx. Probably not the most dastardly of curses on his part, but there was some petty, angry part of him that wanted to see a Lestrange facedown in the mud, for what they'd done to the government, to him, to Jo. There was something familiar, however, about that incendio, and Rufus felt a black brand of anger spill over him. Oh, was that their beloved minister attacking them? A sympathetic shot of pain ached in his leg, and he was brandishing his wand towards the fellow. Oh yes, he'd stoop to this today. Crucio! This time Aeneas was not quick enough with his Shield Charm - pain like a hot knife enveloped his body and somewhere in the back of his mind, the part where rational thought still existed, he wondered how it could be he was hit by the Cruciatus twice in one night when he was on the side of the Dark Lord. His knees began to buckle and he collapsed, twitching a bit, his wand rolling out of his hand and into the damp grass below him. He needed it to stop, the pain cutting through him, and he would make Scrimgeour pay. Though Bellatrix's Shield charm deflected the Stunner, she was brought down hard on her backside by the Tripping jinx and swore most floridly at the tawny man who apparently thought that these childish curses were enough to fight with. She would teach him, as ever she found was her lot. The Whomping Willow, which they seemed to draw ever near to, had begun to shake itself out of stupor. She watched its branches whir toward them and as it drew near the dark-haired man, cast "Reducto!" at the branch and a Sticking Charm to his feet. Well that was just petty - though more imaginative than a crucio, Pepper would at least grant. With one eye on the timing, he ducked the branch... mostly, winning himself a sharp blow to the shoulder that would have knocked him to the ground if not for the sticking charm and his centre of gravity being so low, but still he had to balance himself on his off-hand, a small disconnected part of his brain noting how cold the ground was. "Finite incantatem!" he muttered at his feet, releasing them before shaking his wand arm in an attempt to loosen the muscles. It was only partly successful. "Glisseo!" he shot back at the two Death Eaters, fighting fire with water. Instead of sticking them in one place, he'd make their footing treacherous and slippery. He glanced quickly at Rufus then. "We need to get away from the tree. It's too open." "Aye!" Rufus called back; "too open and too bloody faughnmph." What else it was too-- would be lost for the ages, for Rufus got a mouth full of whipping willowbranch and was thrown back a pace or two. It put a bit of a wrench in his get-Nott's-wand-and-mock-him-with-it plan, but Rufus realised that being petty and vindictive wasn't the way to win this battle. Not right now. He needed to focus and he needed to think about anyone but Josephine stupid bloody Savage. Grabbing the willow by the tendril, he slashed a severing hex through it, forcing the branch to reel back in pain, giving Rufus enough time to dodge, roll, and assess the situation a bit better. He'd lost his opportunity to accio Nott's wand, but he wasn't out of ideas just yet. "Depulso!" He growled out, hoping to shove Nott closer and closer to the tree while Rufus and Pepper gave themselves a bit more distance. The distraction from the Whomping Willow had given Aeneas enough time to get his bearings and, as Scrimgeour was being tossed around by the tree, find his wand. Barely a moment after his fingers closed around the long piece of wood did he find himself sliding closer toward the nearly-sentient tree, though he kept his cool. At least, if anything else, he was still on the ground and hopefully in a better position to avoid being whomped. Well, misery always loved company, so he raised his wand at Rufus and cast a silent Accio, eager for the man to join him under the deadly branches. These fellows had something about making her fall; the ice, thanks to Pepper, did its work and she slipped, falling hard upon her backside before taking the time (as Aeneas was distracting them) to melt it with a blast from a Heating charm. She was done playing. "CRUCIO!" was shrilled out for the dark haired man and for Aeneas's opponent, who was being drug beneath the willow, she kicked a stinging hex beneath those branches to make them whirl all the faster. Goddamn. Pepper gritted his teeth against the pain, a pained cry bubbling somewhere in the back of his throat (with the sounds of fighting everywhere and the swish of the tree branches he wasn't sure if it carried, but it might have, and he found he didn't particularly care one way or the other) as his blood burned in his veins. Or at least, that was what it felt like. Fucking-- fuck. That was just rude, really. He was glad when it let up, probably not more than a few seconds later, and shot back a strong "Diffindo!", hoping to slice open something important and painful before accioing Rufus away from the bloody tree and ducking out of the way. He did not particularly wish to be slammed into by a flying body. Rufus felt another slap upside the head from the whomping willow, and was growling out a particularly nasty curse (the entrail-expelling one, to be exact, as they were no longer on the clock and he felt no particular obligation to play nice), when he felt himself flying across the grounds; he sailed over Pepper's head with a noise of startled effort, and then fell into the earth beside him, muffling out a 'thanks' into the grass. Bugger and blast. Pulling himself to his feet, Rufus fell back to a good old stupefy aimed at Nott. "Just our luck to get these bloody two," he grunted at Pepper, and shot an expelliarmus for luck. Perhaps luckily for Aeneas, the tree decided upon that very moment to whomp him. It was a particularly large whomp, at least as far as this whomping willow went, but any whomp would have seemed large to Aeneas considering this was his first experience up close and personal to the Whomping Willow. He was thrown a few feet up into the air by the tree, and landed on his rear, which hurt but was not nearly as bad as it would have been had Scrimgeour's other two spells landed. He took half a second to get his bearings, then found Scrimgeour a bit to his left. "Ossisverso!" he shouted, throwing himself flat against the ground once again avoid the willow. A raven curl fell from Bellatrix's head (Oh, Pepper was close) as she dove out of the way of the curse and in a rage, rose to throw off her mask. "YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO DO BETTER THAN THAT!" she shrilled, giving into Aeneas's favourite, the entrail-expelling curse with a strong flourish of her wand. Now, it seemed, Pepper was just to have bad luck. He recognised the other Death Eater's spell as something extremely bad that really ought not hit Rufus, and, still close by him from the summoning, stepped forward to cast a shielding charm, something that he was extremely good at, thank you very much. Of course, normally he was not casting them while fighting two highly ranked Death Eaters. As it turned out, the first spell was quite bad, and though most of it was absorbed by the shield he felt a hundred tiny wrenches as bones twisted through his body. Distracted by the pain, he was a somewhat easy target for Bellatrix's spell as well. The air was knocked out of him as he hit the ground, hands going instinctively to his abdomen where blood was leaking quite heavily from the wound, hot against the chill air. He felt something thick and ropy and dimly hoped he was pushing it back into the right place or his insides were going to be all messed up and in the wrong order. Though, he decided wrily, at least his bones weren't bothering him anymore, the pain from his stomach far more pressing just at the moment. Shit. Rufus was too startled by Pepper's appearance in front of him to object, and at the first break in the other man's shield, he knew they were bollocksed. Dragging him down to the ground and casting the strongest dark magic shield he knew how, Rufus shoved Pepper onto his back and straddled him, trying to ignore any sharp screams of protest from his extremely heterosexual brain, before ripping away what was left of his shirt. Field-medicine was something he was decent enough at, but he knew he couldn't heal this well enough to keep Pepper on his feet. Shit. Shit shit. "Idiot!" He hissed, smacked the other man in the jaw to keep him conscious. Pushing intestines back where they belonged was not the highlight of his night, and Rufus stifled a strong swell of angry nausea as his hands slid across textures he tried not to process. Once things were inside (not necessarily in the right place or order), he strengthened his shield as quickly as he could, then pressed Pepper's stomach, pinioning his thighs so he couldn't struggle in the pain, and closed the wound. That was the best he could do, and Rufus's primary goal had to be to get him into the castle. And soon. "Don't smack me," Pepper protested, a bit of a slur in his words as he winced and flinched away from what Rufus was doing to his stomach. Oh, that was going to scar. But first it was going to be incredibly painful for quite some time, and why did this stuff always happen to him? (He tried not to let himself actually answer that, as he was sure he wouldn't appreciate the answer.) "Leave me alone, go... Agh! --hex them." Right, not to be twisting that way then. That was okay with him, actually, because his vision was kind of fogging up a bit and part of him thought it might actually be kind of nice to just lie here for a while, even as another part was railing at him to get up and keep fighting. The brief period of time that Scrimgeour spent on top of the other man was enough for Aeneas to crawl away from the dangerous branches of the Whomping Willow, and soon enough he was nearly cackling with glee over the sight of the man whose entrails had been expelled. Bellatrix had used his favourite curse, he noted, and now Scrimgeour was no longer paying attention to anything else. A smirk on his face underneath his mask, Aeneas decided to try out one of the newer spells he had learned. Wand pointed carefully at Scrimgeour, he shot out a thin stream of orange light, targeting internal organs in order to cut them up slowly from the inside. He held the curse, laughing quietly to himself - they would both be dead soon enough. Unlikely as it was that Bellatrix would take on a supporting role in any duel, she did realise that their current situation required it. Aeneas needed adequate cover to continue his giggling curses - but she would be sure to remind him, later, that she thought she heard a giggle - and so she bowed her head to draw strength from her core. About them a thick and bubbly shield sprang, her lip curled as she all but dared either man to attempt to breach it. Rufus let out a bellow of pain and rolled sideways to avoid collapsing forward on Pepper. He could feel his insides turning to mincemeat, and it hurt like very little he'd felt before. It was only after he'd been on the ground a few seconds that he realised moving had just opened up Pepper to the attack, and in a sudden shock of fear, he threw up the hardest shield he could. It wasn't enough, and in a fit of anger, he sent out blasting curse after blasting curse; even if he couldn't penetrate that shield, he could at least knock them back enough to stop Nott's bloody curse. Gasping for air, Rufus conjured up a bandage and another shield, this one only long enough for him to wind the cloth tight around his middle and hold together whatever the fuck was falling apart in there. If things weren't bad enough -- and they bad, by Merlin -- Rufus turned to see what looked like his worst nightmare heading through the gates. "Fuck me," he whispered, more to himself than anything. Forget Bellatrix and Nott -- he wasn't going to be standing here with a man down when You Know Who himself was traipsing across the grounds. He reached down, wand still pointed at the two death eaters. How the hell was he going to get away. "Pepper!" He barked, "can you grab my arm?" Pepper suspected, vaguely, that Rufus would not react well if he gave him (an attempt at) a withering look and told him to just leave him there. Fuck. He made a half-hearted stab or two at getting his wand in his pocket (funny how you always thought of your wand, no matter how dire the situation, but then he hadn't been away from it for more than twenty minutes at a time since he was eleven) before just holding onto it, propping himself up on elbows before reaching out for Rufus and making what was probably a sort of pathetic attempt to get his feet under him. Though, shockingly, it did work, even if he was half climbing the older man and his body was screaming in pain and he really had not done nearly as much damage as he would have liked before ending up embarrassingly half-dead, again. As Voldemort entered the field, Bellatrix found her concentration on the two men before her to be woefully lacking. After Rufus's curses had been obliterated against her shield, she let it fall, glancing at Aeneas with only passing interest as her shining eyes turned to Voldemort. He would take this castle; he would win for them. Let their opponents taste His fury. Scrimgeour and the other man would likely die, Aeneas told himself, but it was no longer the time to worry about them. They were no longer a threat and if they did not die now, Aeneas would simply be able to have the pleasure of killing them again. Now, however, his Master was here, and things would finally end, once and for all.
WHO: Order, Gairloch, DEs, DA, Voldie, Dumbles
WHERE: Hogwarts
WHAT: A big fucking battle
WHEN: 11pm 30 April
RATING: R, violence & death
STATUS: Complete
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3. Reinforcements arrive; BASH! (cont)
+ whomping willow (attacks indiscriminately)
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