Blurred Lines Mods (blurred_mods) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-06-07 17:02:00 |
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Group Log
Who: Marius, Severus, Lucius, Regulus, Georgina, Graley, Edgar, Rufus, Amelia, Elle, Mafalda, Marlene, Andromeda & Dora, npc!Lena & Children, npc!Ichabod
Where: Edgar's house
When: 7 June 1979
What: Tragedy strikes at a Bones birthday party
Rating: R
Status: Complete
PART ONE: http://asylums.insanejournal.com/blurre
The Incendio flew over his head, colliding with one of the oak trees and sending it up in flames. The Bowtruckles within began their high, reedy screeches -- somehow, that sound pierced the haze clouding Edgar's mind, and focused his determination once more. His wand spun in his hand, firing two or three Stunning spells almost simultaneously towards the two Death Eaters that, for whatever reason (as though he didn't know why they were coming for him) were headed straight for him.
Edgar looked straight ahead, already hearing the screams and the green flashes around him: if he didn't look for them, didn't search for his family, he couldn't be distracted.
A swift "Protego" was enough to deflect the stunning spell headed for his chest, and Lucius carried on advancing. He thought back to Narcissa's scream of anguish when she had heard the news of her father, and rage boiled anew within him. He would have vengeance - for Narcissa, for Cygnus, for everyone else affected by the tragedy. Raising his wand again, he shot forward a series of quick spells. Impedimenta. Deprimo. Stupefy. He cast the spells non-verbally, yelling each incantation with fury inside his head, determined not to give the Auror the satisfaction of knowing what was coming his way.
Without taking his attention away from Edgar, Lucius cast a few Incendios to either side, setting the garden furniture alight. The more chaotic, the better for the Death Eaters. This would all be over more quickly if the Auror was not allowed time to find his footing and get back into the swing of things. But Lucius would not be casting the killing curse yet, oh no, he wanted his victim to feel pain before he died.
Scooting to move behind Edgar, Regulus shot a Furnunculus curse at the back of the older man's shoulder. They had him surrounded, at least from the front and the back, and Regulus did not feel that "fairness" was particularly necessary in this case. Edgar has not treated him fairly when he had attacked a wandless Regulus with a series of curses. Edgar had not treated him fairly when he murdered Regulus's uncle, positively distressing his cousins and his aunt and even upsetting his mother -- there was no excuse for doing that to them, and any calmness he had mustered had wholly and entirely disappeared once again. He wasn't distressed -- he was furious, vengeful, and this was going to be a lesson.
The Impedimenta hit Edgar directly in the face, sending him roughly towards the ground with a horribly loud crunch. That kind of thing could do a great deal of damage to a body, but Edgar's had the foresight to twist as he fell: it was unwieldy, and it was hardly the ideal situation but -with a quick swish of his wand- Edgar transfigured the ground below him to resemble a material almost exactly like rubber. He hit the ground, the other spells sailing over his head by a matter of millimeters...and sprang back up to his feet, facing in the direction of Regulus now. If he wasn't quite so worried for his continued breathing, then he might have been rather impressed with that little manoeuvre.
"Almost good enough, but not quite!" Edgar's voice carried easily over the action, with a note of laughter to it that owed a great deal more to nervous terror than actual humour in the situation. He fired another Stunning spell, followed bya Blasting Jinx towards Regulus, before twisting on the spot to Disapparate -- one of Edgar Bones' most famous moves. He appeared around six feet behind Lucius, his heels balancing precariously on the edge of the ornamental pond. One of the Plimpys mewled at him and splashed off towards the other side of the water, but Edgar's attention was focused at the Death Eater's back -- there were too many witnesses for another Unforgivable just yet...but then, who would notice one more? His nerve still holding, Edgar shot a Blasting Jinx at Lucius' feet, following by a Disarming charm a few inches higher. Hopefully, dodging one of them would cause him to hit the other.
Spurred on by the taunts, Lucius fired more hexes, each one with even more nasty effects, and each one missing its mark. As Edgar twisted into nothingness, Lucius frugally cast an anti-disapparition spell, fully knowing that it was too late. He cursed himself for not casting it sooner - Bones was gone and he had failed his mission. But the sense of disappointment did not last long, as he heard rather than saw the Blasting Jinx coming towards him. He leapt to the side, casting a shield charm in the process, but as the Jinx blew a hole in the grass just inches away from Lucius's feet, sending clods of earth flying, he was unable to anticipate the Disarming charm. His wand now several feet away, Lucius leapt for it, losing valuable seconds in the process.
While Edgar was distracted with Lucius, Regulus shot a swift and whispered Incarcerous spell followed by a jelly-fingers curse (in hopes of making the older man's wand more difficult to hold onto, even if the first hex did not work). It seemed that the wand would be back in its owner's hands any moment now, but any second unarmed was a dangerous one, and any occupation with another Death Eater was a chance for Regulus to shoot for a chink in the armour.
"Tarantallegra - Deprimo - Impedimenta - Incendio!" When a spell came to his mind, he cast it as quickly and accurately as possibly -- though the concentration allotted to each spell was lessened from his first two he had shot at the Auror, and they hardly carried through with the power and accuracy he would have liked. It was only just as he was finishing the fourth of the string that it occurred to him that he ought to slow down his mind again and focus on those few certain spells. The flurry would be a distraction, even if they might not be fully successful, but success was the goal -- not further distraction so that Lucius could distract, so that Regulus could distract once again. They were here to annihilate Bones, and once again his mind had sharpened and focused in on the situation at hand.
The ropes bound his legs, and Edgar lost his footing -- his wild swings managing to let him dodge most of the other hexes (which would in itself have been an hilarious sight, had the stakes not been quite so high), Edgar's unfortunate predicament meant that he took the Incendio directly to the stomach. His robes burst into flames, but -the force of the hex having sent himself entirely off-balance now- his bound legs sent him flying backwards, landing directly in the pond. The water doused the flames, and the simple shock of it cleared his head a little, but the fact of the matter was that the man was somewhat drunk -and why should he not have been, tonight of all nights?- and not fighting to his usual standard.
He split his robes, leaving them behind in the duckweed-bedecked pond, and jumped out in his undergarments -- which, for a man of Edgar's status, consisted of a shirt, tie, waistcoat and trousers. His sleeves were rolled up, and as he strode back out of the water, he seemed for all the world like the epitome of a gentleman. However, with a Shield Charm cast to cover his exit, Edgar had the first chance to survey the scene...and the dead. The grand double doors that provided entrance to the back of their home were hanging open, as though even the house had given in to their invaders. They provided a horrible frame to the scene within. His wife's body, that awful friend of hers of whom he could never remember the name. There was an oddly gratuitous amount of blood and body parts that he couldn't immediately trace...
...His children. Even remaining composed after seeing Lena's corpse (there would be time enough for mourning once their intruders were punished), the sight of his daughters' bodies was enough to tear a strangled, grief-racked cry from his chest. It was barely a human sound, more in common with an animal's noises of distress, and it echoed across the gardens. The sight of his son -his heir, no matter how often they said traditions like those never mattered- had, however perversely- the opposite effect: galvanised into action, and with a roar of almost bestial rage, Edgar exited the pond like some kind of vengeful water spirit. His wand held like a dagger, he was firing curses indiscriminately: advancing on the Death Eaters without much thought to personal safety, all that mattered was hurting them.
"Avada Kedevra!" he screamed, the bile rising in his throat even as he cast it. The rest of the Killing Curses that he fired at them (and there were many, hot on the heels of that first) were silent, but Edgar's unintellible cries of rage and loss might as well have been a spoken desire to murder the people who had come into his home, and done this to his family.
Fortunately for Lucius he was reunited with his wand, and immediately he rolled over and leapt back to his feet, cursing his own stupidity for not anticipating the spell. He could not afford to go around getting disarmed like that - it could result in capture or worse, death. And he was not the one who was supposed to be dying here tonight. He held the wand out in front of him again, ready to continue the duel. But it was then that Edgar's cry reached his ears, and he couldn't help but smirk under his mask. So Bones now knew what it was like to lose someone he loved. His face once again set with determination, he readied himself.
Shield charms would not protect against the Killing Curse, and Lucius relied on his reflexes and a combination of Edgar's inebriation and grief to avoid them - surely even an auror as great as Edgar Bones could not aim straight under such circumstances? A jet of green light avoided his shoulder by inches and he laughed, mirthlessly. "Using the Killing Curse again, Bones? Do you never learn?" He took care to disguise his voice somewhat, speaking in a deeper and more gravelly tone than he usually used. While Bones would hopefully not be alive to identify him in the aftermath, some other survivor may. "Here, let me teach you. Crucio." Lucius's wand was pointed directly at Edgar's chest, and there was plenty of rage behind the incantation.
Regulus felt his heart jolt and quicken. Having the Killing Curse thrown at him was not by any means a common practice, and seeing those flashes of green coming at him was a far more jarring experience than he had ever bothered to consider or think about. He had to think quick, however – or rather, without thinking much at all, Regulus dodged the haphazardly thrown curses in a somewhat continuous motion.
The utterance of this string of killing curses uttered by Edgar sparked a similar wave of renewed anger in Regulus, however, as a further reminder of all of the hypocrisy and the price his innocent (genuinely innocent) uncle had paid and all of the pain his family had suffered as a result. With the threat itself out of the way, that clutching feeling could be replaced once more by a cold anger.
As Edgar's scream ripped through the air once again, the thought crossed Regulus's mind as to whether it had been more pained at the sight of his dead wife and children, or now, under the curse that is said to cause the most excruciating agony imaginable. It floated in his mind for only a fraction of a second before he snapped back to attention, supposing this was an ample opportunity to, in someway, repay for Edgar torturing him wandless. Silently, Regulus cast an Expelliarmus whilst the Auror was at the mercy of Lucius's Cruciatus Curse. Calmly, he walked over and picked it up, glancing around to make sure no stray curses were coming their way. There would be no interruptions.
He was defenceless. At such close range, and with so many conflicting emotions coursing through him, there had been little chance of Edgar deflecting the Cruciatus. He even had experience with throwing it off, and had done so in the past...but right now, with the force of Lucius Malfoy's misguided fury behind it, Edgar might as well have elected to ignore the laws of gravity.
With Edgar at the mercy of his curse, Lucius felt powerful. This was well deserved justice, an eye for an eye, blood for blood. After a while he raised his wand, surveying his target on the ground. "How does it feel, Bones?" he mocked. "How does it feel knowing you're going to die? At least you'll be joining that pretty wife of yours soon." He wasn't quite ready for another Unforgiveable quite yet, though. While Lucius had been thoroughly trained in their use, he still had difficulty holding the state of mind to cast needed to cast several in quick succession. A Sectumsempra was next, and Lucius felt a great sense of satisfaction as blood blossomed out of the Auror's chest and onto the grass. The dirty blood of a Blood Traitor.
Generally, Lucius would cast a Silencio on his torture victims, as he hated unnecessary noise. But not this time. He wanted Bones to die begging for mercy. Again, Lucius raised his wand, the cold fury of vengeance once again building within him. "Crucio." After the curse had taken it's course, he looked over at Regulus and nodded, as if signalling for him to take over.
Slowly the fire within him chilled to a determined, detached state. With the rather significant and telling look from Lucius, the chaos and screams around him seemed to fall away and fade into a murmur, and Regulus gripped his wand more tightly. Lucius was allowing him the honour of finishing the job, and he was not going to fail – his family wouldn't go unavenged. Despite his constant claims about Edgar Bones needing to die, and as much as he wished for it to happen, a familiar nervousness tingled in his stomach.
But this was something to be proud of, more proud of than insignificant Muggles. His family would be proud. Maybe they would hurt a little less. His loyalty would be more cemented than ever. He would silence one of the most condescending of the blood traitors, the one who had murdered his uncle. Bones deserved it. Attacking the Blacks was like begging for death. Slowly the nervousness was numbed again, and he lifted his wand to point squarely at Edgar. Two words, and it was all over.
"Avada Kedavra," Regulus said in a quiet, even voice.
Even now, blood pouring from the gaping slashes of his wounds and his very nerve endings on fire with the agony of the Cruciatus (was this truly as bad as how Roman Selwyn had felt, in that dank cell?) curse, Edgar struggled to return to his feet. His hoarse, racking cries had subsided now -- as though even sound was an effort that was now beyond him. He was wandless, almost bloodless and yet he had managed to return to his feet. His eyes darted wildly, searching around for his wand -good gracious, any wand would serve him better right at this moment, but nothing came to hand. He slipped on a sodden patch of ground, dark with what quickly revealed itself as his own blood (surely there was none left within him to bleed, at the rate his heart was pounding?), and -as his chin connected heavily with the ground- he couldn't help but see his finest partner floating serenely atop the pond: his finest silk top hat, a present from Lena on their last anniversary.
There it was, the flash of green light that seemed so horribly familiar in his line of work - not an old friend, far from it indeed, but perhaps a comfortable nemesis. A foe that he had come to underestimate, which had been so detached from his routine and had made him feel (at times) untouchable, was now close enough to embrace. He heard the rush of air as though from a great distance, and Edgar Bones' eyes closed. If his murderers had been able to bear looking at him as they did it, they might have seen the ghost of a smile -- he hadn't, at least, been separated from his family for long.
A euphoric sense of success filled Lucius as he watched Edgar Bones take his final breaths. He had done it. He had exacted justice. Mentally he made a note to tell Narcissa about Regulus's part in the events of the evening, before looking around him, taking in the carnage. The whole mission had been a success, and Lucius was sure the Dark Lord would be pleased. Slowly he lowered his wand, then raised it again as he realised there were still survivors that may take him on in their grief. But no-one came. Surely they would once they noticed Bones was dead though - time to make his departure. Nodding once more to Regulus in gratitude, he turned on the spot, disapparating away home.
And then Regulus found himself rather more alone than he had been previously -- most people had cleared out out of the area, leaving only the dead and a few stragglers behind. Apparently the house had been set on fire at some point, though he could not for the life of him say when that had happened. He knew it was time to leave now; his task was complete, and it was a shining success.
"Morsmorde." From his wand sprung the twisting serpent and the large skull, curling in on each other and forming the familiar (and often terror-inducing) symbol of the Dark Lord and his followers. An eerie, sickly green glow emanated from the Dark Mark as it settled over the Bones household, and Regulus forced his eyes away so as to keep from making himself any more of a target. There was no need to linger.
And without so much as a look around at the destruction they had caused, Regulus disappeared with a 'pop.'
The effect of their sudden appearance at the gathering was instantaneous. It was surprising how a relatively small number of people could make so much noise, Georgina mused as she looked around the chaos forming before her. People were reaching for wands concealed beneath robes, rushing forward to put children behind their backs and sounding incredibly, annoyingly frenzied. She had always disliked it when women began shrieking their heads off, it was too shrill and far too irritating to allow to continue. Georgina watched as the others began to spread out to their respective targets, billowing out across the area, forming a sort of perimetre around the guests. The corners of her mouth twitched as she glimpsed a witch shielding a little boy. The others seemed to pay less attention to them so she decided that she had better take care of those two; she had a task and she will complete it.
Perhaps it was a side-effect of her encounter last Tuesday that triggered the dormant emotion--pity. It felt a something akin to pity. Georgina had felt how it was to be on the defensive, to feel that dreadful sense of helplessness. She tilted her head to survey the woman. She'll treat her with some form of dignity at least, and the child even more so. Georgina wondered whether the Killing Curse hurt, whether it caused pain when it drove out a person's life. She stepped towards the woman, the now familiar sense of calm obedience stealing over her. This had to be done. She had orders.
"Confringo!" Georgina half-shouted as she began her onslaught, and immediately casting a Shield Charm in front of her. She advanced.
Wand drawn, Amelia made a quick move to avoid the spell coming toward her and nearly stumbled over the little boy she'd been shielding in the process. She hardly acknowledged the sound of an explosion behind her and used her wandless hand to push the boy back behind her. She then stood up straight to face the advancing witch, boasting more confidence in her stance than she actually possessed. If the chaos and flying spells around the room weren't disarming enough, her creeping self-doubt and rusty wand skills were sure to tilt the odds in Georgina's favor. Additionally, it was all that she could do to maintain any focus on the boy, the witch or her own safety when her family members and friends were as in harm's way as she.
It was the child at her knee who brought the situation into focus when he huddled closer to her. Amelia took a breath and switched her wand at the witch, saying "Impedimenta!" and hoping for the best.
From nearby came the sharp crack of glass as Rufus dropped his glass of scotch. At the very first apparitory pop, his innards had gone cold, and it seemed to take him hours to rise from sitting and drag out his wand. Hours during which the cold spread up into his gut and washed down his stomach. If anything was sobering, it was the sight of black hooded figures descending upon people he cared about, of which there were many at this party. His first thought was to Edgar, who was directly in his path and being descended upon by two death eaters.
But in his periphery was also Amelia, and in half a second (hours, hours) he made a decision - one he'd never forget. Shoving away from the table and angrily gripping his wand, Rufus launched himself toward Georgina, normally handsome features twisting into something darker, bestial. His time on the battlefield, fighting unknown agents and protecting strangers was little preparation for this: genuine and consuming anger that tore at him. Not her. Not here. These were his people, and he'd be damned if this bastard laid so much as a finger on Amelia.
"Expulso!" He roared, fury writhing through every syllable as he thrust himself between the death eater and his prey.
She had veered sideways when Amelia sent the curse flying towards her, hoping that it would fail to hit her. Unfortunately, the jinx just brushed past Georgina's arm, making it stiff and immovable, holding her there for a moment. Jerking it towards her roughly, she muttered, "Finite," and felt the stiffness ebb away. Once again, Georgina turned to the witch, flicking her wand before her as if prepared to swat away any curse or hex thrown at her. She considered throwing a Severing Charm at the witch but thought better. This had to be clean and done quickly, there was no time to play like the last instance she was sent on a similar mission.
"Stupefy!" she yelled instead, diving sideways and looking back in time to see the spot where she stood explode in a shower of dirt and uprooted grass. Georgina glanced up and saw that a man had joined the witch. She couldn't help but roll her eyes. Oh, yes protect the woman, surely she needed someone else to defend her, she thought angrily. Hastily picking herself up, Georgina placed another Shield Charm in front of her before slipping behind an upturned table. It was not exactly the best place to seek shelter but it had to do. Peeking behind her place, Georgina quietly said, "Diffindo," aiming her wand at the man.
Under less dire circumstances, Amelia might have refused to let Rufus aid her in any way. But with the child at her side and the fear of death instilled in her, arguing with him over who would keep who alive didn't even cross her mind, particularly not as a beam of red flew past her cheek, causing her to go rigid with panic. As the other witch moved for cover and began her attack on Rufus, her mind went numb with anger and unbridled hatred for the cloaked figures scattered throughout her brother's home.
"Protego!" she said, aiming her wand over Rufus's shoulder. She knew full well that she couldn't stop more severe hexes with a Shield Charm; however, at a loss for alternatives and not willing to stand and do nothing while the rest risked their lives, she had to contribute somehow.
Rufus didn't really give a damn about women's rights and angry feminism at the moment, as he was preoccupied with protecting someone he cared about, gender not withstanding. He backed up toward Amelia and the child, one hand out to keep Amelia from doing anything stupid like barrelling him over so that she could take on their attacker (because he didn't put it past her, really). He was the auror, dammit, this was his job. Chivalry wasn't exactly good for his defences, however, because it limited where he could move - and whether he could duck.
As red magic spat toward them and dissipated beneath Amelia's shield, Rufus took the time he would have ordinarily spent with a shield charm and cast out both an attack and a pre-emptive manoeuvre: with the first, he levelled a nonverbal incarcerous right at Georgina's chest and with the second (Piertotum Locomotor), Rufus raised a statuesque figure from the corner of the garden and sent it stromping toward the death eater.
Georgina watched as her spells were once more deflected. Well, she should have expected that. One nineteen-year-old witch against two far more experienced wizards? Of course it would be difficult. She sighed in exasperation and had began to cast another Blasting Hex when Rufus' first spell hit her. Thick black ropes bound her arms tightly to her sides, rendering her partially immobile (and not to mention vulnerable) before she cut them away. Georgina was fast becoming irritated by the whole thing and it didn't help when the statue began lumbering her way. "Reducto!" The statue's head was blasted off in a shower of crumbling plaster and dust.
She turned back to her quarry with a snarl. Enough. She wasn't some child they could easily fob off with their defensive spells, Georgina could hold her own. With a yell of "Incendio", she set the grass at Rufus' feet on fire, throwing her momentarily into shadow.
When the grass caught flame, the little boy began screaming and hugging Amelia's leg in fright. This only added to Amelia's anxiety and mounting feeling that she was doing more harm than good by remaining and inadvertently putting Rufus in harm's way. Even if she were more confident, the child prevented her from defending herself to the best of her abilities. As he began crying, Amelia knew she would have to make a difficult decision -- take the boy to safety and eliminate Rufus's need to protect her or stay and try to help as best she could.
With one final look about at those who remained from her nephew's party, she made a decision that she had an immediate feeling she would regret. Squeezing the boy's shoulder, she Apparated with a loud crack! to safety.
And with that crack, half of the weight resting on Rufus's chest was gone - and his mobility regained. Georgina might have blasted the head off of the mobilised statue, but it wouldn't stop him from using to against her. Dodging swiftly away from the Incendio (with no one behind him to protect), he cut some of the distance between them. "Oppugno!" The statue wobbled unsteadily into the air, then launched itself toward his opponent. Failing that, he chose a direction and "Confringo!"ed toward it, hoping that the death eater would dodge right into it.
"Avada Kedavra!" Georgina shouted, directing the curse at the woman. Unfortunately, she was a split-second too late and she heard the distinct pop as the woman, who was still clutching the boy the last time she glimpsed them, had gone. Cursing under her breath, Georgina turned back to the wizard. "Cru--," the incantation broke off when the statue slammed right into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. A few metres away, a Blasting Curse hit the ground, showering her with dirt and grass. "Bastard," Georgina hissed as she struggled to hold off the still-attacking statue. When she had pushed the thing back enough, Georgina summoned all her concentration and blasted the dratted statue into chunks of deformed plaster. Her breathing had become erratic and more frenzied, yet she wanted to do a small bit of damage before she Disapparated. Squinting, Georgina saw her target and felt the calm steal through her again, the man destroyed her plans and he would pay for his interruption. She was being petty, of course, but her anger had gotten the better of her. "Crucio!"
Rufus didn't bloody think so. Throwing himself behind a balustrade, he narrowly missed the vicious red of her crucio - but the anger at being targeted with that spell was nothing compared to that which seared through his stomach at the killing curse right before. This wasn't just some attack, they were here to murder. The fury bubbling within him made it difficult for Rufus not to tear out a crucio of his own, but some saving grace - some scrap of common sense kept him from bellowing it out over his short barrier. He had to be better. He had to be more human than the monster he was fighting. Arming himself with a protego horribilus - which took longer to cast than he liked for a battle spell - he twisted over the edge of his marble enclave and sent another incarcerous toward Georgina. If he could just capture her... maybe some good could come of this horrific mess.
Georgina's eyebrow twitched upward as she saw Rufus run behind the protection of a marble enclave. He was cornered somewhat so there was something to the rather brash and haphazard way she had attacked. She was inching closer and closer towards the place, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Confringo!" Georgina shouted, aiming her wand at the archway just above the entrance of the enclave. But just as she was doing this, she immediately noticed her mistake. A spell hit her feet, making thick black ropes encircle and twine themselves around her ankles. Georgina's eyes widened, partly in shock and partly in annoyance, as she lurched forward, losing her balance. Well, fuck.
Without bothering to counteract her spell, Rufus leapt from his place behind the balustrade and through the shower of rubble that rained down upon them. His wand was at hand, and his opponent, it seemed, had made the mistake of underestimating him. Though not a genius tactician by any means, Rufus had enough experience - enough wear and tear and scars - to know when to trust his gut, and his gut said move, fire, duck. As he landed upon his feet, he was only seconds away from his soon-to-be captive, and he aimed his wand, resisting a violent impulse to blast him (or her, he would later realise upon reflection) out of the grass.
"Don't move," he growled out. "It's over." But he could hear all around him the screams and sobbing that made it all the more obvious that it wasn't over. He had to catch this one. He had to make it worthwhile. Killing her wouldn't bring anyone back.
It was done. But was it really? A spark of stubborn pride made Georgina glare at the man through her mask. Who was he to tell her it was over? Who was he to tell her that she had nothing else left to do but give up and come quietly. Anger that had been simmering since her encounter with the impostor a couple of days ago boiled over suddenly. Georgina's eyes darted to the man's wand, which was firmly pointed at her. One move. It could go either way and she would rather she wasn't captured and bandied around, passed from Auror to Auror for questioning. And if she cracked and said anything... Selwyn came to mind and Georgina's resolve hardened. Faster than she would have moved in other situations, she flicked her wand directly at the man's chest and shouted, "Stupefy!"
Too close, and Rufus gave a lionesque snarl as he tore himself out of the way - but not enough. Red light ripped into his arm, knocking him backwards and around as he struggled to hang onto his wand. Foolish move. It had been a foolish move and he cursed himself for trying to play a fair game against an immoral opponent. No more. Dizzied by the stunning spell but still clinging to his wits, Rufus thrust out his right arm (ignoring the pained, useless left). CONFRINGO. With all the power of his fury, a violent blasting curse exploded from his wand.
For a moment, Georgina thought she could have Stunned him but the man, who was obviously more skilled and more experienced than her, dodged sideways. She saw her spell graze her opponent's arm and she quickly took that as a signal to untie her feet hastily. Georgina found she was a little shaky when she stood up, wincing in pain as she felt her ankle buckle beneath her. She would have to leave there and immediately. The man had thrust up an arm and was pointing his wand at her. Turning on the spot, and injuring her ankle even more, Georgina Disapparated with a loud pop. She thought she could hear the vague sound of more explosions and crumbling rock as the tight, suffocating darkness engulfed her.
Graley was amused at how much noise had already filled the air just moments after their arrival and it filled him with a sick sense of glee. He had been getting bored, doing his job day in and day out and he supposed that killing a few filthy blood traitors would be better than losing yet another trainee to some sort of explosion. Because really, who could trace it back to him, especially if he misinterpreted it, it was never an exact science and the ancient cultures liked to add in little booby traps that they added in all over the place. Whoops.
He had his assignment, he knew what they looked like, and so he moved quickly, coming up behind the couple who had their wands out. He raised his wand and pointed it at the woman’s back. He made a small noise and waited until she had turned and recognition crossed his face before he waved his wand. “Confringo!” he said loudly so she could hear, watching as after a brief moment she exploded, flesh, blood and bone scattering around them and he figured it wasn’t the cleanest way for it to happen, but it was more fun.
Suddenly pain bloomed along his left shoulder and his eyes rose as he felt blood begin to seep, out seeing the other man standing there – the remains of his wife scattered along his face and clothes, eyes blazing. Graley growled as he ducked away from yet another spell followed by another, which he was sure had been green. He growled low in his throat and shot a spell at the other man, watching in satisfaction as the corner of his shirt caught on fire. Only problem as that he felt fire lick at the corners of his shirt and he shook his head, annoyed as he quickly cast an Aguamenti and the fire was out.
Another spell and he ducked it, heading towards the side before casting yet another Incendio towards the other man as his other sleeve caught on fire. He nodded his head in contentment he while the other man was busy and quickly cast a Deprimo watching as a large hole came from the other man’s leg, half of it gone in a circular shape. He felt fire on his sleeve again. “Fuck!” he said casting another Aguamenti and looked at the man. He cast the spell twice more in quick succession, one of them catching his arm and removing it, elbow down before the second one caught the other man mid-chest.
He watched in approval as the other man fell down, to his side, eyes open and staring at him and he nodded his head, resisting the urge to cast an Incendio over the body, as he turned, beginning to look for his next target. Three was always a good number.
The chaos around her was really the last thing Mafalda had been expecting when she decided to go to the party. Sure, it had been a while since she'd been to a party of any sort, so she wasn't sure what she was expecting, but this...wasn't it. She had no honest idea what to do or where to go, and ultimately found herself turning on the spot, wand drawn, to see...
...bloody hell, did he just blow those people up? Mal barely had a chance to register that she was shocked at what she'd seen. The chaos, the man who had just caused an innocent woman to explode, was turning in her direction with a hungry look in his eyes. A glance about her told Mal that, out of all the people in the general vicinity that he could reach, she would be the easiest to get to, and she threw up a shield charm as his eyes slid in her direction.
Graley spotted his target and that was all he needed to zero in on the other woman and begin to move towards her, a grin hidden by his mask. Usually his sense of right and wrong was stronger, more pronounced if not odd in certain ways. Usually he would want to know their blood status before he did anything like kill them, because a Pureblood was a Pureblood and their minds could always be changed with certain spells and potions, so he didn't see the point in killing them. But now, now he want to hurt maim and kill, perhaps even blow something else up. Bits of the woman had splattered across his robes, and mask shining dark red as the lights hit him in certain ways. He raised his wand, moving closer towards her as he watched for a brief moment before attacking. "Deprimo!" he said loudly, wasting no time. There was no time to do anything aside from what he needed to do.
Shit, was the first thought that went through Mal's head, followed by a near instinctual shield charm that went up just barely in time. The man's curse was still strong enough that Mal felt herself stumbling as the force of it hit her shield. Merlin, she wished she was an auror right now. in no way did she want to die today, and had no plans of doing so, but Mal's training was in magical law, not in dueling and defensive magic. Her mind raced, trying to think of something appropriate to throw back at him, something that would incapacitate him enough to allow her to get away, but all she could think of was the Jelly-Legs Jinx (which seemed, ultimately, rather juvenile).
Luckily for her, juvnile was something that Graley wasn't expecting and so he felt it hit as he went down for a moment growling as he struggled to get control of himself. He managed, and raised his wand, pointing it at her quickly even though he didn't stand up from the ground. He threw an Incendio at her before moving quickly, throwing one more, this time aimed at her legs hoping that she wouldn't be able to block both of them. As soon as he did that he cast a Finte on his legs and moved, almost as if he was going to stand up, but not quite, watching her, ready to block anything else that came his way.
That it had worked absolutely threw Mal for a loop, and she was stunned enough that her shield charm came almost too late. As it was, the man's Incendio still managed to graze her wand arm, and Mal winced as an angry burn appeared. "Not on," she muttered to herself, but it had given her time to think, and her wand slashed through the air quickly, sending an Impediment Jinx at him. Though she was entirely certain that he would kill her, if he had the chance, Mal simply couldn't see herself doing the same to him. If I can just incapacitate him long enough...he's just one man, they can take him in easily, she reasoned with herself, though the reasoning seemed less and less sound by the moment.
Graley rolled when the curse came at him and stood up quickly, he wand coming up as he threw the same spell back at her silently before moving to the side, moving closer as he raised his want again. He was excited, this was fun. There was pain in his arm but he could ingnore it in favour of raising his wand again. “Confringo!” he said loudly wanting her to hear it and wanting her to know what was about to happen if she let this one through.
Thank everything he'd spoken aloud, as it gave Mal just enough time to dodge the spell, barely jumping to the side in time as the man's spell hit something behind her. The blast was enough to knock her down, however, and Mal didn't like the sound her wrist made when she landed. That's going to leave a mark. It hurt enough that every jinx, curse or hex that she knew seemed a distant memory, as did any charms for healing broken bones, and it was all muddled up with the realization that he wasn't leaving, that he wouldn't give her mercy, and that there was nothing she could do. Mal swallowed hard, trying to at least pull herself into a sitting position before facing him again.
With Georgina out of the way, however, Rufus's sights were set upon another close-by figure, and as Graley knocked Mafalda to the ground, Rufus leapt over the shrapnel left by the blast, aimed an angry "depulso!" at Graley, and dragged Mafalda by the shirt several paces away from her attacker. The effort left him open for a few unfortunate seconds, and as he worked to erect a protego horribilus around them (which would hold off a blast or two), hexes flew by, and a lucky hit caught him square in the gut. "Can you apparate?" He asked between ground teeth (no time for pain), and keeping his eyes and wand trained on the bastard death eater in front of them. Rufus was not pleased, but he could either get Mafalda out of here or kill Graley at the sacrifice of one more life.... he had to choose the former.
Graley let out a small yell of annoyance as his prey was dragged away and hidden behind a shield and he threw a blasting curse at it, only to no avail and he could see people apparating out around him. He wanted to stay, to make them hurt but then common sense took over and with a growl he threw one more blasting curse for good measure, mentally remembering both of their faces. He had been so close, so close to getting his third victim of the night and he had wanted to kill her, but then he had come along and ruined his fun. He raised his wand before he apparated out, leaving them to their wounded and dead.
It was as if she'd just run a marathon, only with more painful results to her arms. Mal had no chance to respond to Rufus before the man apparated, but now she nodded and managed to stand, pain shooting through her wrist as she did so. She couldn't have looked good, but it was pretty obvious that there were folks about who looked much worse. Mal grimaced at Rufus when she finally was in a standing position. "I...it'll take a lot out of me, but yeah," she finally answered and added, "Thank you," before turning on the spot and apparating close enough to St. Mungo's to drag herself inside. All Mal could think, as she was admitted, was how poor a showing she'd made and how, in the end, she'd been utterly ineffective...and that hurt even more than her fractured wrist.
And then Rufus was alone, with the sobbing, bleeding remnants of what had been so joyous an occasion. The euphoria of the afternoon seemed washed out now, a vague memory stained at the edges with pain and fear and utter grief. The death eaters had disappeared, no need to prove themselves beyond cowardice with that simple mission complete, and though Rufus felt some relief at his core that Amelia and Mafalda had escaped, what contest did that pitiable emotion hold against the shards of revulsion, misery, and exhausted anger working themselves upward into his throat and lungs? He burned cold from the inside out, and as he stood shivering in the mud, nauseated by the hot blood blossoming over his chilled hip, he could do nothing but stare. There lay Edgar, a bloody, twisted mockery of a man - his wife lay curled before the door of a burning building, above which curled the snake and skull. It was not meant to be like this.
It was never meant to be like this.
PART ONE: http://asylums.insanejournal.com/blurre