Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-08-31 17:24:00 |
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FINAL BATTLE [11/29]
THE FINAL BATTLE [01] [02] [03] [04] [05] [06] [07] [08] [09] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14]
The whomping willow
In the months since the Ministry had been taken over by the Death Eaters, Andrew had been wondering why he had bothered to stay with the Dark Army for so long when it was obvious that even under the new regime, werewolves were never going to get the sort of freedom that seemed to have been promised if they pledged their allegiance to the right side and did their dirty work for it. They had still had to stay at the camp, then got stuck with vulgar 'jobs' taking down posters, and now after a week of thankless surveillance work at all hours and rumours that the Dark Lord -- the man they were supposed to be serving in the first place, unfulfilled promises aside -- wasn't even alive anymore. The only reason he could think of for still being there was his fear of the consequences if Fenrir thought he was being a coward again, though as far as he was concerned, running away would have been the rational thing to do. So here he was after the gate had been opened (the other wise wanted them to come in?), standing near a large willow tree and noticing one of the Death Eaters a short distance away from him. Demetrius had not been doing much since he arrived, lurking around and feeling distinctly haunted by this sense of impending doom. A battle in the middle of the day held a certain amount of foreboding. But regardless, he walked across the grounds and tried to keep a good enough distance from the Whomping Willow, as to not get... whomped. Spying what looked like one of their werewolves- he was sure he recognised from from somewhere, he strode over. If they were going to have a fight he may as well have someone to fight alongside. He seemed to have misplaced Corbina and Aquila since he'd arrived, and he knew he'd trust them to fight with him more than some lone Muggle werewolf. But it would have to do. He watched from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, hidden by trees, but not out of fear -- Priam wished to wait and observe, and take in the final comforts of his home before he strayed out into the battle. He only wished that it were night so that he could look up and See the stars so that he may have a clearer Reading for what would become of this battle, but the sky had been overcast for days. He knew that much blood would be spilled before the end, much more suffering -- but he could not See who would leave this battle victorious. It was not in the nature of centaurs to involve themselves in the affairs of humans, but Priam -- much to the displeasure of the lead stallion -- had a tendency to stray from the rules of their breed. As he spotted the werewolf and the Death Eater approaching near the Whomping Willow, Priam drew an arrow from the quiver at his back, readying his longbow and aiming between the tree trunks at the nearest of the two, and once they were close enough he let his arrow fly. The first was quickly followed by another, and another, his strategy to not allow them time to recover from dodging the first and leave them vulnerable for the arrows that came after -- but he only had so many to last, and so Priam only used a few of his supply before he stopped. From his prior experience with magical battles, Andrew had been expecting to hear some sort of fake Latin being thrown around followed by bright colourful lights and therefore kept his ears and eyes open for those -- so when the first arrow whizzed by, he only narrowly side-stepped it at the last second as a reflex (along with a good deal of Who the hell uses arrows these days for this sort of this?). He didn't have any time to figure out what was going on when the volley continued and there were more arrows being fired at them, and there was only so much he could do even with his heightened speed and agility before two of the arrows pierced his leg. An obscene word or two escaped before he could help himself, and as he tried to yank them out before looking up to see who had shot them, a large tree branch suddenly whipped him across the chest and threw him back several feet on the ground he could react. Demetrius put up a shield charm as to avoid being hit with any arrows. Arrows, the Forbidden forest, and the Whomping Willow. Must be a centaur, then. What in the hell were they doing getting in on the action? This was going to make for a long day. "Incendio!" he shouted, aiming for the forest. After the burst of flames, he narrowly dodged a branch of the willow, scrambling out of limbs' reach and keeping his eyes trained on the forest so he didn't have another close encounter with an arrow. Priam reared back as the fire exploded in front of him, arm raised to protect his face as he looked on with disgust as the destructive display. He turned his body away from it, holding out one hand toward the effected trees with his palm facing out, and then he clenched his fist and twisted his hand around -- and the trees seemed to mimic the movements of his hand. The trunks slammed against each other and twisted around, smothering the fires between the two trees as they curled around each other. He galloped several feet away from the initial area, remaining behind the trees as he zeroed in on the boy who had sent the flames. Another arrow drawn back and when he released the string, it whizzed between the trees toward the wizard. Watching as the forest seemed to come alive to exhaust the flames, Demetrius was momentarily impressed by the magic, before he realised this was a foe. What really jerked him back to reality was the arrow embedding itself in his shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance and causing him to stumble back a few feet. He gritted his teeth against the pain, his breathing getting harder the longer the tip of the arrow remained embedded in his shoulder. He couldn't even articulate a spell through the pain, so instead he grabbed the arrow by the shaft and roughly jerked it out, shouting in pain as he did so. Gawain had managed to fall away from the rest of Albion and he realised that he was nowhere near a familiar face. He held his wand tightly at his side and he concentrated on holding the disillusionment charm that allowed him to creep thought the daylight undetected, or at least for the most part. There was an explosion somewhere in the distance and he jumped. It was strange that they were fighting in the middle of the day and somehow it almost seemed wrong. Gawain was in search of an ally, someone that he could rely on. Then the arrows came. He'd been preoccupied with maintaining his cover that he'd missed Andrew and Demetrius, who were standing within shouting distance. An arrow had come within feet of his own foot, causing him to drop his veil, and now that he was in the open he was left with two options. Running was not feasible or acceptable and so he chose option two. With his wand pointed toward the Death Eater and werewolf he shouted. "Confringo!" During the time the centaur had focused his attention on Demetrius instead, Andrew had stumbled back onto his feet after having been knocked over by the Whomping Willow. He really ought not to have been surprised about a magical tree that was sentient enough to attack people, especially after all of the other odd things he had witnessed in the wizarding world, but it still came as enough of a surprise that when Gawain shot a Blasting Curse at them, he only narrowed dodged being hit by it directly and was still thrown off his feet as the spell exploded against the ground. Now that the fight was underway and adrenaline was coursing through him, however, he quickly got to his feet again and started to sprint in the direction of the wizard who had just joined the fight, with the intent of tackling him to the ground. It wasn't the smartest thing to do when there was still a lot of distance to cover, but in the open space in which they were fighting, there wasn't any way he could get behind him first. As soon as Gawain's spell wore off and he was in plain sight, Priam chose that moment to burst out of the forest's protection at full speed, another arrow knocked back in his long bow as he galloped in Demetrius' direction. Another arrow was released, and as he drew closer he reached into the satchel at his waist, withdrawing a silver dagger -- but he did not stop running, nor did he make any attempt to slow down as he ran toward the Death Eater. Arrows and knives were not the only weapons available to him, and Priam had every intention to barrel Demetrius over and crush him beneath his hooves. Stumbling over the Blasting Curse unfortunately had put him even closer to the now charging centaur. "Sectumsempra!," he shouted rather impulsively, another arrow embedding itself into his other shoulder. Before he jerked it away he dove out of the way of the centaur barreling towards him, managing to fall and further embed the arrow into him. He didn't get back up for a moment, sending an "Incarcerous," towards the centaur's hooves and a "Sectumsempra," towards the other wizard on the scene. Then Demetrius worked at jerking out the now rather stuck arrow. He managed to break the shaft but the arrowhead stayed in stubbornly. Now wasn't the time, and he pushed himself to his feet. The blasts had barely left his wand but he wasn't taking any chances with a werewolf. He pointed his wand at Andrew and thrust his arm forward. "Petrificus Totalus!" Going for the wizard was definitely not working and -- was that seriously a bloody centaur that was charging at Demetrius? Not that mythological creatures being real ought to have surprised him by now, but it did -- and maybe he'd have more luck with that, assuming he couldn't use a wand either. Still feeling winded, he struggled a bit to get to his feet and tried to sneak over quietly to the centaur's side while his attention was still on the Death Eater. "Protego!" he shouted quickly, but he also casted a silent Shield Charm at the werewolf, because if he wanted any help with this he needed his new partner of sorts alive, right? He focused his might on maintaining the shield charm and then tried to shift his shoulder to work out the arrowhead. It didn't seem to be working for him too well. "Stupefy!," at the centaur, who seemed to oddly be the more formidable opponent. The time Priam had spent freeing himself from the ropes and struggling to stand back up had allowed Andrew to sneak up on him, and it was the vile stench of werewolf that alerted the centaur to his presence. He looked upon Andrew with disgust -- it was one of the few views that centaurs shared with humans. The beasts knew nothing but destruction, and death, and blood; they were abominations of nature. He reached back to remove an arrow poisoned with wolfsbane from his quiver, but there was a flash of red light in the corner of his eye and he reared back, the stunning spell hitting the ground where his front legs had once been. The layout of the scuffle had changed quickly and it was now werewolf and Death Eater against the centaur. Gawain had failed miserably when it came to anything revolving around magical creatures but the fact that the four-legged man-horse had helped him out spoke volumes and he could easily return the favour. He took a few wide strides towards Demetrius and he aimed his wand carefully on the younger man. They seemed to get younger and younger with each battle. "Expelliarmus!" If he could disarm the boy it would make things a little easier for everyone. Andrew had blinked in surprise at the shield that had shimmered into appearance as Demetrius had silently cast it in his direction -- he hadn't exactly expected that sort of help from a wizard who surely looked down on him as a werewolf and a Muggle, though he appreciated it -- and he had nearly stopped short in his run when the centaur had noticed him somehow. How could he have noticed? Not that 'What centaurs are really like should you ever happen to run into one' was ever something he had covered in his ancient Greek classes at school, but -- -- the Stunning Spell was enough of a distraction that it gave him an opening to finally throw himself onto someone and use his teeth and claws to fight. A centaur was a bit trickier than what he was used to and he wasn't sure if he could knock him to the ground, not to mention he really didn't want to get kicked anywhere, but he tried to sink his claws into his arms and rip his teeth into his shoulder. Demetrius managed to, miraculously, keep hold of his wand. He looked over as the werewolf seemed to be overtaking the centaur, but he wouldn't count himself so lucky. If he left them to it- which he would, as he now had a human opponent- the centaur would likely defeat the werewolf. It was just sensible, the wolf was only a Muggle and centaurs were inherently magic despite also being half-human. "Sectumsempra," he shot at the man, trying to brush the hair now sticking to his face away as he cast the spell. He was having a hard time seeing, and he needed that considering he liked to know when his attacks hit. It was clear that simple disarming wasn't going to work, which he figured would be the case. Gawain surrounded himself with a shield moments before Demetrius's spell would have hit him and he stared across the lawn at the Death Eater. He was so young that it was a little sad. It made him wonder about past battles and how many kids he'd duelled with. They were evil, despite their age, and Gawain would not allow that to get in the way of defending his own beliefs and way of life. He let down the shield steadied himself. "Diffindo!" Priam staggered when the werewolf's weight landed on his back, and he twisted his torso around, the skin of his shoulder caught in Andrew's teeth ripping away as he shifted. He reached behind him, grabbing at Andrew's legs to try and pull him off. "Dismount yourself, filthy beast!" His voice was a loud, angry snarl -- but still haughty and proud, self-confidence seeped into every word. He bucked his body once, rearing up onto his hind legs before he fell forward again, all four legs bending to allow himself to roll his body on the ground in an attempt to crush Andrew beneath him. Though he wasn't one of the more bloodthirsty werewolves in the pack, Andrew had still been distracted enough by the taste of blood that suddenly having his legs grabbed caught him off-guard and forced him to let go as he was dragged to the ground. This time, however, he remembered what had worked back in January during the takeover of the Ministry and kept his teeth clamped shut as he fell in order to tear out a chunk of muscle -- although that victory was short-lived as Priam then tried to crush him. He had enough experience with horses from his time before becoming a werewolf to know that such a thing would be rather unpleasant, to say the least, and so he tried to scrabble out of the way -- except he didn't move fast enough not to get his legs pinned underneath with a sickening crunch. Before he could stop himself, he cried out in pain and hoped it would catch the Death Eater's attention -- he didn't know his name -- along with praying that perhaps the ghastly magical tree would conveniently swat the centaur away. The wizard's diffindo caught Demetrius across the torso and he staggered. Shit. He heard the werewolf's shout of pain, looking over his shoulder to survey the damage being done to his ally. But he knew he couldn't get distracted, and instead of running to help (which wasn't, admittedly, his first instinct anyway) he turned his back on it. "Sectumsempra, Expulso, Incendio," he shot out in quick succession, all aimed for the older wizard before him. Gawain silently cheered as he watched his spell crash into Demetrius but his celebration was cut short upon the boy's retaliation. He shielded himself from the first two attacks but the flames grabbed hold of his sleeve and they quickly began to spread up towards his shoulder and down towards his wrist. He dropped the protection of his shield so he could put out the fire. They sizzled in protest and his arm ached slightly. He ignored it and cast a series of blasts in the Death Eaters direction. It was a simple and rather unexciting plan of attack but he wasn't looking for style points, he just wanted to incapacitate the boy so that he could move on to the next criminal. The centaur did not roll away immediately as he felt the werewolf's legs crushed under his weight; instead, he reached once again to his quiver to pull out one of the arrows poisoned with Wolfsbane, ignoring his long bow and instead wielding the arrow as if he were holding a knife, stabbing Andrew in the shoulder. Priam shifted his weight away from the werewolf then, rolling back up to his feet and backing up to avoid more attacks from him, waiting to see if the poison actually worked; the Death Eater did not seem interested in helping his comrade, so Priam was not too worried he may try to interfere. So neither the tree nor the Death Eater had come to his rescue -- at some level, Andrew knew he should have expected that when he was well-aware of the fact that Muggle werewolves were more disposable tools than people to them, and the idea of relying on vegetation to save him, magical or otherwise, was actually rather bizarre the more he thought about it. Still, he wasn't about to resign himself to the fact that the fight was probably over for him now -- but as he had tried to push himself back up with his arms so he could claw at the centaur's face, chest, or anything he could get his hands on, he was stabbed in the shoulder; almost immediately, he could feel something coursing through his veins and paralysing him, and in his bewilderment and panic as he lost the ability to move, he didn't even notice that Priam had got off him. Then again, even if he had, he was completely helpless anyway. Priam allowed himself to relax when it seemed that the poison had worked; the werewolf did not look as if he could move. However, he knew that it would not last, and he couldn't be sure when it would wear off, and so he had no time to pause before taking his next actions. The gleam of his knife caught his eye on the ground, and he held his hand out as a small section of the earth rose up to life the knife high enough so that Priam could scoop up the silver blade. The dirt crumbled back to the ground as the centaur moved back to Andrew's side, and he had to lower his body and fold his legs underneath him so that he was able to reach the paralysed werewolf. "It will be quick." His voice held no sympathy or regret; just a promise that he was no monster, that Andrew would not be tortured. He knew very well what effects silver had on werewolves, and although the creatures disgusted him and his kind, they were still noble creatures who did not give in to the savage displays Death Eaters often did to prolong the suffering of their victims. Priam placed the tip of the knife to Andrew's chest, and with a swift, forceful push downwards, the blade pushed through and into the werewolf's heart. Had Andrew been able to speak, he would have shouted something along the lines of, 'Are you mad? What the fuck do you think you're doing?' upon seeing the knife and being told that 'it' would be quick -- even in his panic, he was able to put everything together and realise what was about to happen. The last coherent thought he had was that it was horribly unfair and unsporting when he couldn't even protect himself and had never asked to be a werewolf or part of the magical world in the first place. And then everything suddenly seemed slower and more surreal as the knife stabbed his chest and the silver in his bloodstream ripped through him like liquid fire radiating from his heart as it pumped the poison to every part of his body. He must have been imagining it, but the last thing he thought he could hear was his heart's final beat before even that part of him became completely silent and still. Demetrius dodged the blasts cast at him, though a few caught him on the side and he was pushed backwards, farther away from the other wizard. A branch came down and lashed him across the back, and somewhere in the back of his mind Demetrius knew this wasn't a fight he wanted to continue. Looking over, he saw the centaur overtake the werewolf. He saw the werewolf die. That was his cue to leave. "Sectumsempra," was aimed at the centaur, though sloppily, with a "Deprimo," towards the wizard. He then fired a silent incendio towards the ground, forming a blockade of fire to keep him from being followed. And then he turned his back on the fight and left. The blast struck near Gawain's feet and he staggered backwards, nearly falling as a result. The werewolf was dead at the hand of the centaur. He was slightly upset with himself for counting the death as a good event, but he was thinking differently now that they were away from the Ministry and the rules that used to govern them. As an Auror death was not a goal that one gunned for. As a vigilante it was a different story. A werewolf was dead and would kill no one else under Fenrir's request. It was a good thing. Without warning the wall of fire sprung up from the ground and Gawain could see Demetrius retreating. The younger wizard was already gone by the time Gawain extinguished the flames but there were others. The school grounds were not lacking opponents, that was for sure. He turned his attention to the centaur and he gave him a nod of recognition. "Thank you." He turned to leave but then stopped and looked back at the creature once more. "Good luck." Gawain gave him a wave and then he took off at a run, heading for the middle of the fray in search of whatever came next. The centaur cleaned the blade of his knife off on Andrew's shirt before he was up on his feet again, Priam watched as the Death Eater made his retreat before he looked to Gawain. He responded with nothing more than a slight nod of his head at the Auror. The knife was stored away back into the satchel at his waist -- the battle was not won yet, and Priam readied his long bow with another arrow before he galloped deeper into the battle. 4) Algie & Edwina Being a member of the Dark Army was tiring business, especially when one was a vampire called to do battle when the sun was still burning high in sky, and Edwina was feeling impatient. Did no one consider her when they scheduled these soirées? Clearly, they did not and luckily she had somehow managed to find the appropriate attire for the afternoon sun. Clad in a navy jumpsuit and a sunhat she happened to have lying around for just such an occasion, she lingered in the shade at the edge of Forbidden Forest and lobbed rocks at passerbys. Hopefully she'd annoy one of them enough that they'd take her up on her invitation and join her in the dark forest. She wasn't about to do battle in the sun, after all! She had already been stung by it enough as it was. Algie had been instructed to patrol the edge of the Forbidden Forest by some Order or Albion member he didn't recognise (and he was, admittedly, rather bad with names where they didn't concern his toads, so they might have been introduced and he just... forgot) when he felt a rock hit him in the shoulder. Rather painfully. He turned his head and saw a dark, clothed figure in the woods and frowned. Well, that was very unusual, but he was quite sure that no Albiorder members would be hiding out in the forest when there were Death Eaters and Dark Creatures to fight. Frowning, he rubbed his arm for a moment before grasping his wand a little more tightly. He pointed it at the fallen rock, as well as some of the twigs that littered the ground at the edge of the forest and cast a silent oppugno towards the figure. With a huff of indignation as she was peppered with twigs and that rock, Edwina pressed a gloved hand to the top of her hat and attempted to dodge them, wishing she'd asked that Death Eater to cast some sort of spell on it before she'd left camp. "That wasn't very nice!" she shouted at the wizard, her eyes searching for a larger rock to throw at him. There was a lovely large one a short distance away from her perch in the shade, only it was bathed in sunlight and she wasn't entire certain she wanted to risk her hat falling off out there for it. She settled on a heavy one about the size of someone's head and easily tossed it at the wizard, before backing further into the shade. Algie swore loudly as the rock came at him and he had to duck to avoid being hit full in the face by it. He didn't like to think about the damage that it would do to his nose if the two had made contact. Though it was very likely a bad idea, he stepped into the growth of trees, half-curious, half wrangling for a fight with this rock-thrower. That had been a very large rock. Pointing his wand at it, he made it levitate above the ground and then sent it zooming towards his attacker. That done, he sent a Slicing Jinx at her too, just for good measure. Edwina laughed as the wizard swore, pleased that she was being such a nuisance. It made her feel much better about being dragged away from her afternoon nap. She easily side-stepped the large rock he'd sent towards her with another laugh that was quickly halted by the slicing jinx meeting its mark. She hissed and stalked towards him, snaking her fingers around the wizard's wrist and attempting to drag him even further into the dark trees. Then perhaps she could lose the annoying hat. Well, it normally wasn't Algie's habit, going off into the woods with strange women. Or anywhere with them. Especially when they were wearing this much clothing. He thought it would mean they had some kind of unsightly skin condition, not that he had ever seen such a thing, but then, he couldn't see any other reason why she would be wearing so many clothes. But Edwina was surprisingly strong, and as she tried to drag him deeper into the forest, he tripped and lost his balance and found his knees and shins dragging in the leaf-strewn grass. It was a testament to the sort of person Algie was that this predicament made him laugh more than panic. He tended, he had found out of late, to deal with adversity through glibness. And laughing at this was certainly easier than being frightened by it. He clawed at the woman's arm for a moment, trying to get him to release her. "This isn't very nice," he pointed out, despite the dragging along the ground was causing his legs quite a bit of pain. A mere shrug was all Edwina had to offer the wizard as she dragged him onwards. "I," she began significantly, "never claimed to be nice." Soon, the sunlight could no longer even think of sending its rays in her direction and she stopped, though it was still visible from where she stood. She dropped the man's arm, depositing him on the ground at her feet before crouching down to get a good look at him. "I am hungry, though. And you look like you'll do." With her declaration of consumption out of the way, she bared her fangs at the wizard and crouched even lower to meet his neck. Glibness turned to terror as Algie felt Edwina's teeth sink into his neck. Suddenly, her strange attire made sense. This woman was a vampire, and Algernon Longbottom would be damned if he became one, too. His fist made contact with the side of her head and then he remembered that he also happened to have a wand. "Relashio!" he cried, trying to get her off of him before he was a vampire or a body without any blood in it. The man's fist against the side of her head did little to shake Edwina from him, but the Revulsion Jinx did what it was meant to and forced her from him. She skirted backwards, her hat dislodging from the top of her head and falling to the side in the process. "Now that was mean," she said, pushing herself to her feet and brushing dirt from her clothes. One would think she'd be annoyed, but she enjoyed the challenge of a meal that struggled and only grinned at the wizard before she moved towards him again. Blood was trickling from the puncture wounds on Algie's neck, and he put his non-wand hand to the gashes to try and stem the bleeding. He very much did not want to die, especially not like this. What would his nephew say if he turned up in heaven after having been defeated by a vampire in a sunhat? Frank, embarrassingly enough, had always been stronger, smarter, and braver than Algie was. After all, he hadn't concerned himself too much with the war until now, with so much of his family dead. Vampires, vampires. What defeated vampires. She was wearing a great deal of clothing, that made it problematic. Also, they were in the middle of a dense forest. Well, clothes first, he supposed, and yelled, "Accio vampire's clothes!" That certainly gave Edwina pause and she halted as her clothes were quite literally ripped from her body. "Asshole!" she exclaimed with a stomp of her foot as she brought her hands up to preserve some semblance of modesty as she stood in front of the wizard. This wasn't good. What if she was stranded in the Forbidden Forest? "Fine! I'll just take yours after I kill you." With that, she began advancing on him again. She was thoroughly annoyed now and she was going to make him suffer for it. Algie was too distracted by the fact that if he didn't act quickly he might die to think much about Edwina's state of undress as he threw the clothes that came soaring into his arms over his shoulder. Had she not just bitten two holes in his neck in a thoroughly-non sexual manner, he might have uttered an apology, but as it was, he pointed his wand upwards towards the cover of trees above them. "Depulso!" he cried, and there was a crunching and shattering as branches blew apart and leaves rained down on them. Through the dense cover, a beam of sunlight slanted down, illuminating the forest. Once again, Edwina was halted in her step, but this time it was fatal mistake on her part as she came to a stop directly in the beam. She screamed when she realised what he'd done, both in frustration and pain as the light seared her flesh. "YOU ASSHOLE!" she shouted at him and those were her very last words as the sunlight made quick work of her very exposed and very sensitive skin. In a matter of minutes she was merely dust on the forest floor, a pile of ash that would eventually blow away with the wind. Whatever Algie had expected to happen when Edwina was exposed to sun, it wasn't this. Or perhaps it was, but he hadn't expected the spectacle to be so... disturbing. Watching flesh turn to ash was unsettling in a way he didn't really want to think about, even as he took a step closer to the neat pile of dust. He didn't really want to touch it, but felt Trevor XIX trembling in his pocket and took him out. "Sorry, mate," he muttered to the toad, who ribbited. "We're not going to stick around here. Might be more of them. I'll go tell the others." And with that, he turned on his heel and walked back towards the castle.
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