v (vesta) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-03-17 13:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | evelyn mulciber, hestia jones, victoria mulciber |
WHO: Evelyn Mulciber, Vic Mulciber, Hemera Jones, Hestia Jones, and… Chad.
WHAT: The Mulcibers send a message.
WHEN: March 17th, evening.
WHERE: Hemera Jones’ home in the Borough of Waverley, Surrey.
WARNINGS: Violence and Death.
Hemera was pulling a fresh batch of hazelnut cookies out of her oven when she heard the impatient ding! sound her wards made when someone — anyone, even her own family as her mother had insisted on when installing the aforementioned wards — stepped foot on her property. She glanced at the monitor attached to the security cameras — another insistence of her mother's — and saw her beau Chad, a smile spreading across her face. They weren't officially living together (yet), but he stayed with her almost every night and she was very happy about that. She flung the door open before he could even pull out the spare key she'd made for him weeks ago, and embraced him tightly. "I made your favourite," she mumbled into his chest, and Chad kissed the top of her head before pulling back. "I know," he responded, "I could smell them before I reached the door." This drew another smile from Hemera, who took pride in her baking above anything else. She shut the door and locked it before reaching for Chad's hand, pulling him into the kitchen. "What do you want for dinner? And you can't say the cookies, because we're grown ups." One quick Floo trip away, Evelyn Mulciber received notification on her phone that a guest had arrived at the Jones girl's home. The reconnaissance she'd done was thorough, though she left everything untouched, save for the tracking. "He's there," she told her daughter. "Are you ready yet?" Vic bristled at the implication that she wasn’t ready, she who was facilitating this drop in. The demise of her mother’s business rival was one thing, but the demise of Hestia Jones? Oh Vic was ready. “I’m ready,” she said shortly, an imperious tilt to her chin. “The fireplace is on the first floor, living room.” She tightened her hold on her wand and gestured towards their own fireplace with a small smile. “After you.” Evelyn stepped through, appearing in a puff of green in the living room. She moved quietly, listening. They were in the kitchen. With her daughter by her side a moment later, Evelyn approached. Her disarming spell beat her through the kitchen doors, but only just. No sense in risking a hit with a knife or frying pan before they even got the lay of the land, after all. The disarming spell relieved Chad of his wand, and his brow furrowed as he glanced from his now empty hand to his girlfriend, whose face had paled significantly. Someone was in the house. Someone was in the house! How on Earth — no, there was no time to wonder why their wards had failed when someone was in the house. Hemera wasn’t very brave, no matter how hard her parents or her sister had tried to teach her to become like them, but her wand was inches away and there was no way she was going quietly. She snatched her wand from the counter and sent the pan of cookies, which was still blisteringly hot, careening towards the intruders. And of course, Vic took the brunt of them as she stepped in after her mother. “Ow fuck—“ in her robe the cookies did nothing, but the pan had fucking hurt. Murder in her eyes Vic fired a well aimed blasting spell that slammed the girl into the countertop behind her. "This will go easier for both of you if you don't try to fight back," Evelyn said matter-of-factly, aiming her own wand at the boyfriend with a simple Petrificus Totalus. It was always easier to work with stilled victims. Chad slammed to the floor, the petrification spell doing its work as he gazed hopelessly at Hemera’s prone figure on the floor. They locked eyes briefly, and that was all it took for the woman to shakily push herself back into a standing position. She failed to fight back tears, eyes darting between her two attackers. She pointed her wand at the one who had sent her flying, and sent a pathetically small burst of fire at her. She just wasn’t a fighter. “Why are you doing this?” Hemera asked, choking back a sob. Vic deflected the flames easily, unmoved by the tears. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re a Jones.” This may be about business to her mother, the elimination of a competitor, but for Vic this was a letter to Hestia. With a flick of her wand, two knives perched in the cutting block broke free and slammed into Hemera’s legs, forcing her to collapse onto the floor. "You, boyfriend," Evelyn said, pointing her wand at the prone figure before her. She released the spell around his head, just enough to let him speak and see. "If you've anything you need to say to her, you should get that done with now. And don't try anything stupid, or you'll lose even that chance." It took all of Chad’s strength not to waste his precious few minutes on spewing every curse word he knew at the women in front of him. He looked from their boots to Hemera, who was in the fetal position as she cried loudly and openly. “Hemera,” he said, as well as he could with his face still pressed to the ground. His girlfriend tried to get into a position where she could crawl to him, but the knives in her legs prevented any movement. “Hey,” Chad said, trying to soothe Hemera. “I love you. I have always loved you. I’m — I had a ring picked out.” At this, Hemera let out a sob that sounded more like a howl. “No, Chad, no, we’re gonna —” but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. They weren’t going to be okay. Chad gazed at Hemera for a long moment before looking up at the Mulciber women as plaintively as he could. “Please, do whatever you want to me. Kill me, just, just don’t hurt her. Please, don’t hurt her.” Vic rolled her eyes so hard it actually hurt. Honestly, were all Jones and Jones adjacents so bloody dramatic? “Oh, well now that you’ve said please.” Vic flicked her wand, hauling Hemera up from the ground, bleeding and sobbing. She grasped the girl’s arm, holding her against her. “Ready?” Evelyn didn't wait for the girl's answer. The moments they had were more than most of her colleagues would have given, and she never had much interest in dragging out the inevitable. She aimed her wand at the man on the floor. "Sorry, kid. You should have picked a different family." The room flashed green. Hemera’s mouth opened but no sound came out as she watched the love of her life die. The only thing keeping her upright was Vic’s grip on her arm, her other arm reaching towards Chad. It seemed there was no fight left in her, but after a moment she weakly tried and failed to wrench her arm away, screaming out foul language she’d never used before. When she was hoarse from shouting, her voice quieted but kept its edge. “My family is going to find you. My sister — my sister, she’ll kill you, you vile bitches.” "No, she won't," Evelyn said calmly. She gave a nod to her daughter. “It’ll be difficult if she’s already dead,” Vic agreed and the room was again bathed in green light. Hestia tried to tell herself that a Dark Mark spotting in Waverly could mean anything, but she knew better. She chewed on her lips after she apparated with a soft pop! into a field near by her older sister’s home. Their mother had filled it with Muggle repelling charms, with the idea that it would be the area the Joneses could apparate in and out from to get to Hemera’s place in a Muggle neighborhood without disturbing the residents. She deliberately had her back turned on Hemera’s house, steeling herself for what she might see. Yet nothing prepared Hestia for the knee-buckling, heart-wrenching moment when she turned around and saw the Mark directly above Hemera’s little yellow house. She allowed herself four seconds of being paralysed by sheer panic before sprinting as fast as she could in the direction of the Mark. The outside wards were still intact, though she got through them in a matter of moments before flinging open the door, immediately being greeted by the sight of her sister and her sister’s boyfriend lying lifeless on the floor in front of them. For a moment, Hestia felt very bad for all the times she had called Chad useless and boring. And then she turned her attention back to Hemera and jerked forward, stumbling to her knees by her sister’s side. She reached out and touched her sister’s cold cheek, and was surprised when no tears came. No, what she was feeling wasn’t grief. It was raw, unbridled rage. |