Mod Journal for Throwing Stones RPG (throwing_mods) wrote in throwingstones, @ 2010-04-17 18:30:00 |
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Who: Evan Rosier, Rabastan Lestrange, Silas Selwyn, Roderick Gamp, Severus Snape, Aston Mulciber, Felix Greengrass, Walden Macnair, Constantine Travers, Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black, Edgar Bones, Ted Tonks, James Potter, Lily Potter, Remus Lupin, Gideon Prewett, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Valere Lestrange, Augustus Rookwood, Jack Nott, Sabriel Mulciber, Solomon Rosier, Frank Longbottom, Alice Longbottom, Euan MacDougal, Albus Dumbledore.
When: Saturday, 17 April, 1979; early evening.
Where: Hogsmeade, Scotland.
What: Bad things.
Rating: R.
Status: Completed log, part 5 of 7.
Rabastan & Walden vs Dorcas A scream that Dorcas would swear sounded familiar caught her attention and had her running down the street, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure there weren't any stray spells flying in her direction and shooting stunning spells back behind her in the hopes of taking one of the fuckers out. Which was how she ended up colliding right into the back of a very large, very solid cloaked and masked figure. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. She stumbled, reeling back a few steps and struggling to keep her balance but she also knew she needed to attack. She needed to fight and not give up the opportunity for the first strike. As the Death Eater was turning around, she sent a blasting curse flying at him at close range and then cast a shield charm and took a few more steps back to put more distance between herself and the Death Eater. Rabastan was through with the little bitch that had used that wretched spell, whatever it was, on him, and he was about to go looking for someone to torture rather violently when someone collided with him. He staggered forward just a bit, not really one to ever be knocked down very easily, and he turned quickly, though he unfortunately took a blasting hex to the chest as a result. That did knock him to the ground, and for several seconds he found it quite impossible to breathe, and he pressed a hand to his ribcage, wincing at the additional sharp pain the action caused. Only when he managed to gulp in some of the chilly spring air did he look up at his attacker. Well. Someone had certainly answered his wish for a victim to torture as it was none other than Dorcas Meadowes that had hexed him. Grinning, he pulled himself to his feet as quickly as he was able, and he pointed his wand at her and advanced forward a few steps. "It seems you still have not learned your lesson about dueling Death Eaters yet. Ah well, more fun for us, I suppose." Rabastan gave little thought to the fact that his voice might give him away. It hardly mattered. He had no intention of leaving Meadowes alive after all of the damage her accusation against Ben had done. Fighting the urge to approach her and attempt to do her real physical harm which would be so much more satisfying, Rabastan flung several slashing hexes at her with the intention of breaking down her Shield Charm so that he could move on to much more entertaining curses. Walden had found himself in a rather unfortunate situation with the girl he'd first encountered, but he wasn't ready to run for the hills just yet. He had failed at Bellatrix's game but he planned on proving his worth on the battlefield. Though he was feeling slightly defeated, Walden crossed through the village and away from the place he'd just spent so much time. He was still looking for Dearborn, really either Auror would do, but he was coming up empty handed. He was very nearly pouting but then he stumbled upon what he considered to be the next best thing. Dorcas Meadowes. Dorcas Meadowes and another Death Eater. He was considering stepping in and staking claim on the girl, but then he heard the other man's voice and he grinned behind his mask and he stepped up beside Rabastan with a jovial wave to the younger girl. "Afternoon. Lovely day for a battle, don't you think? Oh, hello there, Meadowes! I didn't see you. Enjoying your trip to Hogsmeade?" Rabastan's voice was familiar, one she remembered quite well from school and Dorcas's eyes narrowed as she took another two steps back, still holding her shield charm, if only barely by the end of the Death Eater's assault. Of all the Death Eaters she could be coming face to face with today, Rabastan Lestrange was very nearly at the top of the list. Followed shortly by Walden Macnair. And there he was. Another recognised voice from behind a mask and for a moment, her eyes darted back and forth between the two men. She should have run for it. She may have been able to hold her own against the one Death Eater earlier but two, and two who bore very personal grudges against her really should have been enough to have her turning and running for the hills. At least that would have been the sensible thing to do. Certainly more sensible than baiting the two by snapping back, "Just trying to find a belated 'I'm not sorry I got your murdering prick of a husband killed' gift for Evangeline." Yes, just about anything would have been more sensible than that, but well, Dorcas couldn't help the shaking anger that overwhelmed her at being in the presence of these two and she really wasn't thinking at all so much as just snapping the first words that came to mind - ill-advised or not - as she shot a series of incendios at the pair. Rabastan's amusement at Walden's appearance faded away very rapidly when Meadowes decided to run her mouth at the pair. He was rather lucky he didn't snap his wand considering how tightly he found himself clenching it in his hand after she spoke, and he wished he could wrap his hands around her neck and snap that instead. She deserved it for such a comment, but first she needed to suffer. "Crucio," he snarled, not even bothering to toss up a Shield Charm to protect himself from the onslaught of fire. Instead he just attempted to step out of the way of the spells, and he was mildly successful in the effort. One of the blasts of fire did catch him in the arm, however, but he didn't stop in his efforts to hit Meadowes' with the Unforgivable until he felt the flames begin to sear his skin. Annoyed, he ceased his attack and cast a jet of water over his arm, hissing at the pain that was finally breaking through the raw rage he had felt seconds earlier. He had to focus and remember to defend himself no matter how furious he was. He couldn't let her make him drop his guard. Walden's amusement also disappeared in a second as Dorcas opened her mouth to speak. He really couldn't understand why she was being so rude, especially since he'd been so nice in his greeting, going as far as to ask how she was enjoying her day. So he took a moment to remind Rabastan what kind of girl they were dealing with, or at least he would have liked to. He would come back to that when there weren't balls of fire being thrown at them. Walden managed to avoid the attack and the ball of fire instead collided with the building that was rather close on his left side. There was a charred mark on the stone and the flames had collapsed on themselves, leaving just the heat as a reminder that they'd been there. Rabastan had not been as lucky, but Walden didn't rush to his aid. He was already working to put the fire out and Walden didn't want Dorcas to feel neglected. "Any pain inflicted upon you by my brother-in-law was no one's fault but your own," Walden shouted, and with a quick swish of his arm he let a slashing hex fly from his wand, followed by an incendio of his own. Dorcas had been more focused on her desire to set these two on fire herself than her own defences and Rabastan's crucio slammed right into her chest, throwing her back and leaving her with nothing to do but scream and writhe on the ground, her fingers clutching at the dirt in a desperate effort to find something to hold on to. The curse was mercifully short-lived, however, and even if that was one of those things you could never actually tell when you were suffering under unbearable agony, she knew it as soon as she moved to try and push herself up. Which may have been a sign that she'd been crucioed one too many times in her lifetime, but it didn't take as long for her to pull herself back together this time. She was still weakened and moving sluggishly as the last remnants of the curse faded away and she wasn't quite quick enough to move out of the path of Walden's slashing hex which tore open her shoulder but she at least had the good sense to roll out of the way of his next attack, the incendio instead slamming into the ground and charring where her head had been only a few moments previously. From the ground, she sent a quiet expulso flying straight for Walden's knees to try and explode his kneecaps (or some other part of his legs, she wasn't really that picky) and then a kick to the balls hex aimed right for Rabastan's groin. That was payback for the fucking cruciatus. And only then did she slowly push herself back to her feet and start casting another shield charm. Despite the fire, Rabastan very briefly delighted in Meadowes' screaming. Sadly it stopped when he put out the fire, and while he took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down so he stopped fighting under the influence of completely irrational anger, he watched as Walden returned Meadowes' firestorm. It reminded him of the Ministry duel all over again, and he had to grin. Fire just suited Meadowes. Maybe they ought to burn her alive. "I suppose you setting me on fire just now is only fair considering the fact that I had the chance to set you ablaze at the Ministry." Rabastan, still not defending himself while he was gloating, didn't managed to get out of the way of Meadowes' spell fast enough, and for the second time that day he found himself on his knees in agonising pain. Whoever had taught these girls this spell was going to die a horrible, excruciatingly painful and very slow death at his hand. Eyes watering behind his mask and teeth clenched, he ground out a bone shattering curse and aimed it at Meadowes, wanting her to share in the pain. Walden had never stopped to consider what an exploding kneecap would feel like, mostly because it was one of those things that sounded too painful to really think about. Also, Walden never thought anyone would ever think to go after such a bone. To be fair, he'd once targeted a kneecap but that was with a hammer and he was a Death Eater. All of that aside, Walden quickly learned that it hurt. Pain shot through his entire leg and up into his abdomen and he stumbled into the wall that had been assaulted by fire just moments earlier. He refused to fall to the ground but the pain was so bad that he couldn't even begin to think about standing without assistance. With his left side pressed against the wall he could still use his right and he used the few healing spells he knew, not to fix his knee but to at least alleviate the pain so he could focus. Normally Walden was all for torture and drawn out punishment, but after one fight and now a blasted kneecap he was ready to be done. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could have a drink. A strong drink. He'd break into Jack's cabinet if he had to. With another flick of his wand he sent a killing curse in her direction, careful to keep it away from Rabastan. There was a brief wave of satisfaction that Dorcas felt at having not one, but both of her spells connect with the two Death Eaters, at having them both in obvious pain (and oh, that felt better than it should have but she wanted to see them suffer so very much). But it was very quickly done away with by the sight of the sinister green light flying towards her. She knew her shield charm wouldn't do a damn thing to protect her. And there was nothing she could immediately see that made her think to throw it in front of herself to block the spell so she did the only other thing she knew to avoid that curse and she leapt out of its path with a high pitched shriek of fear. Pain shot through her body when she hit the ground, radiating out from her shoulder in waves and at first she thought it was just from the force that she'd hit the ground with for the who even knew how many-eth time that day but it was too strong, too much for that. She tried to push herself up and a fresh wave of pain tore through her shoulder and she screamed, falling back to the ground. She hadn't even seen Rabastan's bone shattering curse as it'd crashed into her shoulder when she dove, she'd been too focused on avoiding the killing curse and her shield charm had faltered in her panic. She had, at least, fallen behind some small pile of rubble that didn't hide her completely from view but provided some small measure of cover as she cradled her arm to her chest and forced herself onto her knees with her wand arm before blindly shooting blasting curse after blasting curse over the top of her little mini-barricade and then diving back down behind it. Right. She was so fucked. Eventually Rabastan found himself recovered enough to stagger to his feet, but he quickly realised that Walden was rather injured, and he frowned, not liking that in the least. Meadowes should not have been the one causing bodily harm. That should have been reserved strictly for himself and Walden in this battle. Of course, he had not missed their opponent's scream, and he hoped he had hit something rather vital, like her ribcage. He was disappointed when she started tossing blasting curses every which way and he had to fight to avoid them. Rabastan was unfortunately not quick enough on his feet, and one of the curses hit him in the side, knocking him down again. Did he really need more broken ribs? No, he most certainly did not. Meadowes needed something broken, though. Throwing up a shield once he was on his feet again, Rabastan marched toward her little shelter and hurled a Reductor Curse at the pile of rubble behind which she had fallen, blowing it to pieces. One could say Rabastan's choice of spells was always predictable, but as far as he was concerned, they were more fun than anything. They always resulted in a lot of screaming. Once the debris was gone, he tossed a few incendios at Meadowes, planning on repaying her for setting fire to his robes and burning his arm earlier. Walden watched the events unfolding from his place against the wall. While Rabastan distracted her, Walden was attempting to stand and walk. Neither seemed to be working for him, especially not without the help of the wall, so Walden dragged his shoulder along the structure and half limped and half walked as he moved towards the spot that Rabastan was advancing on. A blasting curse came very close to hitting him a second time and he pressed himself against the wall to avoid it. There was a second that also narrowly missed him and he decided that she really needed to stop that. Really, she just needed to die and get it over with. As Rabastan pressed on with his incendios, Walden smiled. He was close enough to the pair that he thought he might be able to help them on and with a quick dig through his random knowledge he remembered that he and his uncle had used tar to burn things, so with concentration he pointed his wand and transfigured Rabastan's rubble into pools of tar. With her shoulder and the fact that her entire body hurt, Dorcas really was counting on that little bit of shelter she had found behind the pile of debris to give her some reprieve from the onslaught of curses flying her way. And then it exploded and shards of metal and wood were flying towards her and she didn't have any hope of trying to avoid them at such a close range, not when her first instinct was to try and scramble out of the way on her hands and knees and the first hint of pressure on her injured arm had a choked scream tearing from her throat. She pulled her head down, shielding her face with her arm for a moment as the debris pelted into her, bruising and tearing skin. Which also meant she had taken her eyes from the battle for a moment. One poorly chosen moment that ended with searing heat radiating through her side as one of Rabastan's incendios connected with her hip. She screamed and dropped to the ground to try and extinguish the flames the hard way. Using her wand would have had the same result anyway since it was that arm that had been keeping her up. Except she might have been at least a little less likely to roll right into one of Walden's flaming pools of tar, the thick black goo spreading down her hip and taking the flames with it. Furious aguamentis were cast one after another to try and put out the flames and finally they had stopped, but still her eyes were watering from just how agonising it was. she had no idea how long she had been on the ground, only that it was far too long and she was going to be killed here if she didn't get herself up. Didn't manage to fight back. Didn't manage to do something. And so the first spell that came to mind was a scindo and she just blindly cast it over and over again, hoping to god that it might be enough to buy her the time to get back on her feet. Somehow. But god it hurt so much. Most of Meadowes' spells bounced off of the shield Rabastan had cast for once, a miraculous feat for him in any battle simply because he usually failed to care about himself more than he cared about causing severe harm to his opponents. He most certainly wanted Meadowes to be in pain and eventually end up dead, but she was already in a great deal of agony judging by her screams. Not that he did not wish to make it worse, but he could take the time out to defend himself proper and protect himself from getting additional broken bones and other injuries for once. He threw down his shield charm with the intent to attack her just a moment too soon, and one of the cutting spells hit him, cutting his cheek and then digging into his shoulder. Snarling and reaching up to see how much damage had been done to his face of all places, he pulled his hand away bloody. That was definitely that. He was going to kill the bitch for hitting him in the face with the spell. Quite focused now, Rabastan aimed several slashing hexes at Dorcas, targeting her throat much as he had done when he and Aston had gone to kill Paul Stanley. Walden happily watched as Dorcas rolled around on the ground. He particularly enjoyed the bit where she was on fire. He couldn't feel his leg beyond the tingling that washed out the pain, but that good. He didn't want to feel anything. He remained pressed against his wall and he felt oddly protected with Rabastan between him and Dorcas. Walden could attack from behind the other man and then he was protected from whatever Dorcas tried to attack them with. It was an ideal situation. Ideal until Dorcas's attacks were not blocked and the spells that didn't hit Rabastan hit him in turn. He failed at producing a shield and he couldn't exactly move quickly, so he felt at least two of the slashing hexes bite through his skin. One across his abdomen, deeper than he wanted to think about and the second at his shoulder. A third hit, the same leg that Dorcas had managed to shatter, but he didn't feel it through the tingling numbness. He stopped to concentrate again and he lifted the heaviest bit of rubble he could find, hung it over the spot where Dorcas was, and dropped it in hopes that it would break her back or at least squash some organs. Dorcas had somehow, somehow managed to pull herself to her knees even if the effort alone was enough to make her scream again as pain shot through her shoulder and hip and... everywhere. It didn't seem to be coming from any singular defined point anymore but was just an all-consuming, whole body pain that made her want to do nothing more than crawl into bed and sleep and oh... that may have been from being hit in the head earlier. Either way, there wasn't time, not with the Death Eaters still standing and casting spells and... One of Rabastan's slashing hexes tore through her skin at the base of her neck, across her shoulder, narrowly missing the artery in her neck but still deep enough that she could feel the warm blood pouring out across her shirt, down her chest and she crumpled back to the ground with a pained cry. She tried to catch herself on her hands, to at least keep herself on her hands and knees but another slashing hex tore through her wand arm, the arm that hadn't been injured before and she was on the ground again. She'd lost track of how many times she'd fallen to the ground that afternoon. Another fresh wave of pain tore through her body as the rubble Walden threw at her landed on her leg, crushing the bone with its weight and Dorcas screamed yet again, tears streaming down her cheeks from just how much it hurt. How much everything hurt. On her side and on the ground, all she could think was that she needed to get out of there. She needed to find a way or they were going to kill her. This would be it. She couldn't apparate. There was no way. And she couldn't walk and... the portkey. The portkey that she carried with her at all times ever since the attack in Al's flat. She just needed to buy herself a minute. A minute of distraction when she could barely move, couldn't lift her wand from where it was on the ground, still clenched tightly in her hand. Blasting curse after blasting curse were all she could think to cast, the spells going straight into the ground and sending up a furious cloud of dust and rubble to try and shield her from view. With any luck some bit of it might hit the Death Eaters but really, Dorcas had long since given up on luck. She tried to reach around to dig the portkey from her pocket but her ruined shoulder wouldn't cooperate and there was another anguished cry from her throat. No. She couldn't reach it. She couldn't... In a last act of desperation she relinquished her grip on her wand because there wasn't any other choice and it was either her wand or her life and she pushed herself onto her back, feeling something in her leg twist how it wasn't supposed to be twisted but it didn't matter anymore because her hand was in her pocket, fingers closing around the small metal disc and there was the familiar pull in her stomach and she was gone. Dorcas Meadowes was doomed. There was no way she could apparate in the state that she was in, and she had not injured him nearly enough to get him to step away from this fight. In fact, he was fairly certain no amount of injury could make him walk away and leave her nearly dead on the ground. He and Walden were meant to exact revenge for all of the trouble she had caused, and it would all be finished in a matter of moments. Still, she had cut Walden rather deep, and it was very likely that he needed medical attention quite soon. He couldn't imagine that Walden would stop him from finishing this, however, and so he took a few steps forward and pointed his wand at Meadowes, intending to end her life with a Killing Curse. She managed to toss up a cloud of dust just as he reached her, and when it cleared, she was gone, and only her wand remained. Shouting a string of curses, he kicked the nearest piece of rubble out of the way, and then reached down and picked up the wand. She was definitely never getting it back. Never. After he was done with his little tantrum, Rabastan walked over to Walden and offered him his right shoulder to lean on. He would apparate them to where Evangeline was staying so that she could keep an eye on her brother. "I am going to kill that bitch when I get my hands on her. I swear it." Walden was only vaguely aware of what was going on around him and he wasn't really sure how he was still in an upright position. Every now and then he would float out of consciousness, hoping that Rabastan could make sure no more spells got past him. He wasn't sure how much blood he'd lost, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He just wanted a healer and a drink. Perhaps the drink first. He noticed that Dorcas was gone and he witnessed Rabastan's temper fit, but he didn't seem to mind so much. He would mind tomorrow, of that he was sure, but right now he could care less. When Rabastan spoke, Walden nodded slowly and gave him an almost smile. "Good plan. Right now though? I need a drink. Also, not dying would be wonderful." Once he'd said his piece he allowed most of his weight to fall onto Rabastan's shoulder and he felt the familiar sensation of side-along apparition, and he was very glad to be away from Hogsmeade. Very, very glad. Saul & Evan vs Sirius Evan was shaken from his previous encounter but still largely unharmed. When he spotted his almost cousin Sirius Black that seemed like a good direction to go. The fighting was getting almost out of hand for a person trying to dodge random spells and move but then the sounds of multiple apparations seemed to come from every corner and Evan knew what that meant. The Inner Circle had arrived. He managed to make it close enough to claim Sirius as a duelling partner and decided to get his attention with the leg paralysis spell that Bones seemed to fancy so much. If nothing else it would keep Black in place while he attacked him. "Sirius Black, fancy seeing you here?" Evan called. He hadn't spoken to Sirius in years so he wasn't overly concerned his voice would be recognized. Saul probably should have been grumpy about the fact that the Inner Circle was called in, but he wasn't. Not really. It wasn't like he had anything else to be doing. There was only so much overseeing he could actually do, so an afternoon battle was actually fairly exciting in the scheme of things. He apparated to Hogsmeade with a bounce in his step and he had to force himself to not hum as he scanned the crowd for someone who might need his help. It was then that he heard the familiar voice of his son and he beamed from behind his mask. It was a battle, a potential learning experience, and a family outing. Truly he couldn't ask for a better day. "Fancy indeed," he said to Evan, stepping up next to him. With a casual flick of his wand he thought aduram virga and a fiery whip extended from the tip and towards the leg that Evan hadn't targeted. "Are we having fun?" If Sirius was hearing his name, he wanted to be hearing it from James or Remus or Pete, not a cloaked figure who seemed delighted to see him. He had already faced enough of that in dueling Snape and his masked friend, and he was already in more than enough pain. He should have gone home, and when feeling in his left leg disappeared and he could no longer move it, he definitely should have apparated away, but he was really sick of these bloody Death Eaters being able to get away with everything without repercussions, and damn it, he wasn't going anywhere, not until he had at least done one of them some injury. Unfortunately, this battle was apparently not to go at all how Sirius wanted it to, because when the next Death Eater joined, he cast some fiery whip toward Sirius, and it wrapped around his right leg. The pain was excruciating, and Sirius found himself on the ground, unable to support himself with one paralysed leg and one that was having the flesh seared off and the muscle cut into by the fiery magical rope. Panic broke through his haze of pain, however. He wasn't going to be taken down by these two. He had to fight back if he was going to live, and so he cast the Eye Burning Hex and the Air Loss Hex at the first Death Eater, and at the second who was clearly being more vicious, he threw a number of gouging and slashing hexes. Sirius had made an unfortunate error in his choosing of who to throw which spells at. While he was able to block and deflect healing spells (and both the eye burning and the air loss hex were modifications of healing spells) he would have had far more difficulty with the gouging and slashing hexes. He was grateful but showed it with the same surgical slicing spell he'd cast at Lupin, this time to Sirius's wand arm, just above the wrist. It would start a slow bleed, but one that would lead to death if it weren't treated in the next twenty minutes or so. "Good to see you've arrived, sir," he said quietly to his father. He wasn't unhappy to see him but he wasn't thrilled either. Things were clearly going his way now so he didn't like the feeling that he was going to have to show off. Not while his shoulder was still aching. Saul watched with interest as Sirius toppled over in pain. The whip evaporated from his leg and Saul tilted his head as he observed what he and his son had just done. He deflected all but one of the spells Sirius threw at them, grimacing slightly behind his mask as one of the gouging hexes scraped over the side of his thigh. He could feel the blood slowly running down his leg and very likely into his shoe, which grossed him out slightly. He mused for a moment about that being the reason you didn't wear expensive shoes to battles and that he was rather glad he'd switched to an older pair before leaving the house, and then he brought himself back to the duel and watched his son with mild interest. "Didn't you learn something new recently? I'd be interested in seeing it." He looked at Evan for a moment before glancing back to Sirius on the ground. Sirius tried to put up a shield, but the pain in his leg was beyond excruciating, and his ability to focus was really not there. The spell failed, and the first Death Eater's spell hit him exactly where intended. He dropped his wand in surprise, but he wasn't stupid enough not to grab it back up with his other hand. Taking a look at the cut, he tried to remember the spells that Eddie had taught them only a week or two ago, and he tried them, but between the fact that he was using his non dominant hand and all of the pain he was in, he couldn't manage them. It looked a bit deep anyway, and he wasn't sure that Edgar's spells would work. He was leaving himself undefended, however, and he tried another shield charm, though he doubted it would be very effective. Still, Sirius was nothing if not stubborn, and rather than fish the portkey he had out of his pocket as he should have done, he made another feeble attempt at hexing the two Death Eaters, though the slashing hexes he cast didn't seem to travel very far before vanishing into nothingness. Maybe it was time to look for that portkey after all. Evan had already attempted the spell once this afternoon but he'd taken it off himself before he'd had a chance to see if it would work. It was one thing with Bella next to him, and they'd had two lessons now but it was still slightly above his skill. Still, he'd managed it successfully more than half the time and he leveled his wand at Sirius. "Ebullisangius!" The blood boiling curse. It took all of his concentration but if flew from his wand and appeared to hit Sirius. He focused on all of the things Bellatrix had told him. He needed to do this. He needed to impress his father. Saul watched in fascination as the incision appeared on Sirius's wrist. He'd never really thought of healing spells as weapons until rather recently. It was certainly an angle he never would have thought of approaching, so it interested him to watch and learn. The spell that Bellatrix had taught Evan was not so new to him, because he'd seen it used before. He'd never himself used it on anyone, nor did he really have any desire to do so, but he did like watching. Nearby someone was advancing, some shopping civilian who thought they might have a hand in stopping the Death Eaters, and Saul lifted his wand and very casually killed the man before he could even attempt to raise his wand against Evan. So at the moment he was playing the act of security guard while he watched to see if Evan's curse actually worked. He was perfectly happy with his role and he tucked his hands behind his back as he leaned forward slightly to get a better view. The Cruciatus Curse was pure excruciating pain, but Sirius wasn't quite sure how to describe whatever it was that the first Death Eater cast on him. It was quite possible that it was worse. His entire body felt like it was on fire, and he screamed, writhing on the ground and clawing at his chest which seemed to hurt worse than everything else. He was hot too, unbearably hot, and he wanted more than anything to plunge himself into a pool of icy water to alleviate the ever-increasing heat. It only got worse as he remained under the influence of the spell, and eventually, Sirius coughed and a trickle of blood begin to run from his nose. He could taste it in his mouth too, hot and coppery, and he groaned, no longer able to scream because his throat was so raw. He could feel the blood flowing out of the wound on his wrist, hotter than it should have been and getting worse at the time passed. If he didn't move he was going to bleed to death, and soon. Still, he couldn't find the strength to move, and as the pain grew impossibly worse, he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. It didn't look like much was happening, but Saul was patient. Then Sirius started coughing up his own blood and that was exciting, and he placed a hand on Evan's shoulder approvingly. There was something about watching a boy die at the hands of his son that filled him with pride. But that was quickly cut short when Dumbledore's voice sounded and he immediately lost all the joy from his battling experience. He could see some Death Eaters moving towards the older wizard and he turned to Evan. "Leave this one to die. Go see to the others. I will contact you later." And then he turned his back on his son and the bleeding Gryffindor, both lost from his thoughts as he moved onto more important things. Evan cut off the spell abruptly. More would have killed Black, and he'd been practicing this curse a lot so he didn't think as much as he'd done would finish the job, but he didn't continue. That he'd used the spell on the traitor at all would please Bella. That he may live through this to be killed another day would please her too. People were disappearing now but there were several black figures left behind on the ground and Evan cast a shield charm over himself before taking off away from the bleeding boy on the ground to find another bleeding boy on the ground-- this time one of his own. Aston & Roderick vs Ted Ted apparated away from his conflict with the first Death Eater, but he didn't go far. The screams from the townspeople were still in his ears, the smoke of burning buildings filling his nose and stinging his eyes, already watering with the pain from his broken wrist. He needed to fix that. Ideally, he would get Edgar to take care of it, but who on earth knew where he'd be, in the middle of this chaos. So for now, Ted held his wand clumsily in his left hand, practising the movement for the spell he knew he needed a few times before adding the incantation. "Ferula." His wrist now wrapped and held stiff with bandages, he could hold his wand loosely in his hand, but Ted knew he likely wouldn't be winning any duels like this. Frustrated, he shoved his hair out of his eyes and looked around. When the Death Eaters seemed to be eager to engage the Order in duels, he may only end up getting more injured or killed if he hung around. Well, today was shaping up to be interesting, no? And it only seemed to be getting more interesting. It hadn't been surprising to come across Black, and now here was another that obviously saw to make a stand by the way he was currently splinting his hand. Aston didn't know Ted Tonks personally - thank Salazar - but had indeed been in school when the first part of the Great Disappointment of the Black Family was perpetrated by Bellatrix's sister. How quaint. First help sully a longstanding family name, then try to actually fight against what that family and so many others stood for? Oh. Oh that was cute. Aston noted how he held his wand at an odd angle from that bandaged hand, and perhaps that is what gave him the extra boost of confidence to toy with the Hufflepuff instead of outright attacking him. With his wand trained directly on Ted's chest, he made a slow advance towards him- partially because of the limp caused by that prior gouging hex that ripped across his calf, missing only a beat in this happy little moment of his only to toss up a shield spell. Not that he would be bested by a mudblood, but it was safe to take precautionary measures. "Quaint, really. With what I have seen I suppose one can only guess that your blood traitor is here, as well? Maybe I am simply jumping to conclusions, but it does appear to be a little family effort going forth here today, no? The little Black and the mudblood, oh the other cannot be too far behind, now can she? I wonder if all of you will share the same fate this day, though that may be a question that has already answered itself." Only a few metres separated them as a smirk slid onto Aston's face behind that mask. Ted was considering the merits of just leaving Hogsmeade altogether when a Death Eater found him. He froze, blinking at the wand trained on him as the hooded figure slowly approached him. Inwardly, he cursed himself. He should've at the very least cast himself a glamour; people were recognising him left and right, here. Ted supposed he shouldn't have been so surprised, but the whole sensation he and Andromeda had caused had been eight years ago, and the people they associated with nowadays had long gotten over it. He supposed this was a lesson that Bellatrix wasn't the only person they had to look over their shoulders for. Again, he was incredibly glad that Andromeda and Nymphadora were far, far away. "Ummm," Ted began, watching the Death Eater warily. He didn't recognise the voice. "Sorry. Don't think I know you?" Aston rolled his eyes. Okay, so obviously this one was not only unworthy to wield a wand, but a moron to boot. Not entirely surprising. "That would be the point of all of this pomp and circumstance, mudblood." Did this one seriously think he was going to walk up without something to protect his identity? For all that Aston didn't know that his identity had already been discovered by the Order, he had no intentions of having himself become revealed this go around. Taunting only seemed to work when you had someone with enough mental abilities to actually understand what you were going for, and Aston was quickly growing bored seeing as this was not in the other's possession. Perhaps an attack would garner some response? He knew of Bellatrix's little stake over the lives of her sister and cousin, and could imagine the same held true for this one right here. She was crazy on a good day, but he didn't want to piss her off after she'd been locked in under house arrest for however long. Something less lethal, but still with the potential to cause damage was what he went with without a second thought. "Incendio!" Ted ducked out of the way of the fire the Death Eater shot toward him, frowning. So he still didn't know who this was that had recognised him, or the other one from earlier, but popularity apparently had its drawbacks, and it looked like talking time was over. Well, okay. But his wrist still hurt, and he was kind of getting pissed off. So, Ted did the first thing that came to mind. With a quick move toward the Death Eater, he closed the space between them and snatched away the wand the kid had pointed at him, tossing it dismissively to his side. Then, he swung at him. He might not be so hot with a wand in his non-dominant hand, but Ted could throw a left hook. Okay. Aston had not been expecting that, that was for sure. Apparently the mudblood hadn't realised that this was after all the Wizarding world and the significance of a duel was that you used wands. You know the thing that separated those worthy of using magic from the rest of the swine that populated the Earth? Then again, it wasn't entirely surprising, considering that this thing was what he was. Unfit for this world, that was for sure, but it didn't change the fact that he'd just punched him. Without his wand, Aston was definitely without any upper hand he may have had; whether or not he was imagining before was up for debate. He'd had to take hand-to-hand to enter into the Hitwizard programme, but it was not at all his strong suit. Not in the least. He felt Ted's fist connect with the side of his face, crashing his mask into tissue and cartilage with a coarse yell. Though he might have thought it beneath him, he couldn't just not react, in turn trying to shake off the throbbing from the left side of his face while throwing his own punch - lefty as per his dominant hand - that was really laughable at best. Undignified heathen that caused him to stoop to such a level... "Are you wizards or Muggles?" After his duel with the irritating blonde wench, Roderick had retreated into a back alley to lick his wounds - or rather, to pick out the large splinters of wood that had been embedded into his arm. He saw nothing wrong with retreating from the battle for a considerable amount of time; his arm was hurting and his thigh had an unsightly bruise and, well. He wasn't good with pain. But with the splintered shop sign removed from his arm, he returned to the fray only to see that Muggle duelling was now taking place. Salazar have mercy, could no one function properly without his presence? Flicking his wand at them to blast them both apart (he knew that whoever it was behind the mask could not be someone worth his respect if they had resorted to brawling) he rolled his eyes behind his mask. Pathetic idiots. Ted blocked Aston's weak punch without any trouble. He'd been fighting hand-to-hand a lot longer than he'd been fighting with a wand, even if he'd never gotten any training for it, and knew how to win a fistfight. There were no particular moral dilemmas there - no questionable maneuvers, no line to cross between light and Dark. It was Ted's sort of fighting. The arrival of the second Death Eater found Ted separated from his opponent, though, blown backward to hit the other wall of the alley painfully. He groaned, but jabbed his wand toward the one he'd just hit. "Confringo!" Aston recognized that voice without even having to see the face behind the mask. Of course Roderick had to come upon this, now didn't he? There wasn't time for any sort of taunting as the other Death Eater split he and the mudblood apart. Oh, it was a blessing. One that wasn't even in disguise. His shoulder took the force of the impact, but he didn't consider himself down for the count. In fact, there was his wand! This was not lost in the least-- Being distracted for that moment was all it took to take him to take that blasting curse straight to the shoulder. The heat from it practically melting his robes and shirt underneath to his skin, not to mention superheating that mask enough to surely leave a mark. Aston wasn't given time to react from being hit nearly point blank with that spell, it knocking him back so quickly that his head slammed so hard against the brick wall he saw white. His vision came too far into focus as he opened his eyes for a moment, the scene in front of him then turning into a blurry, muddled mess as he slumped to the ground in the alley. Not dead, but most definitely knocked out for the count. The grazing gouging hex hadn't done him in, nor the superficial marks from those slashing hexes, and not even that hard punch, but the concussion he just sustained had. Roderick looked in complete astonishment as the Death Eater managed to knock himself out - yes, knock himself out. Salazar, who the hell was that anyway? As useless as Crabbe, that was for certain, but far too scrawny to be him. Ignoring the unconscious clod, he rounded on the blonde wizard who was partly responsible for making a Death Eater look so pathetic with such a basic a spell. "Ignis inflatus!" Now that was how to fight with fire. Ted never got a particular satisfaction from winning fights and duels and what have you. He was relieved that the Death Eater was out of commission, of course, but he wasn't exactly proud of himself, and anyway, there was another one just over there watching that he should probably start paying attention to. He began to get to his feet - too slowly, he thought with a wince - and looked up at the Death Eater just in time to catch sight of the fireball being hurled at him. Ted was promptly thrown off of his feet again, back into the brick wall, knocking his head. But that wasn't the biggest of his worries because dammit - his robes were on fire! An alarmed yelp left his throat as reflex and panic took over, the heat scalding his skin as the fire ate away at his clothing. As the wizard was thrown backwards, Roderick reached into his pocket, drawing out a slightly battered cigar. "I needed a light," he informed, his voice slightly manic, as he walked over and leaned down to place the cigar tip near the wizard's burning self. "Much obliged." What the fuck. What the fuck. Ted was on fire and this guy had just whipped out a stogie. Acting on sheer instinct, he reached a hand back to brace himself against the wall, swiveling his lower body around and kicking the Death Eater's legs out from underneath him, as hard as he could. Then, he turned the wand he held loosely in the hand that was still missing a wristbone toward the flames. "Aguamenti! Aguamenti!" Ted pled with his wand, shooting jets of water over the fire and cooling the pain as they were extinguished. Slamming down onto the ground, Roderick lay flat on his back for a moment, completely winded. As he recovered himself, he realised that he had dropped his cigar - and it was now sodden from the halfwit's attempts to douse himself, rendering it completely useless. That had been his last smoke. Roderick didn't think; if he did, he might have attempted something a little more refined. As it was, he threw himself at Tonks, his left hand smothering his face, jabbing his wand erratically at his ribs. Ted was beginning to get the impression that this guy was seriously, seriously unstable, especially as he lunged at him and...was he trying to stab him with his wand? If he didn't also seem to be trying to mash his face into his skull, Ted might have even chuckled. As it was, he needed to get Mr. Nutters here off of him. Wrestling Roderick away with his good hand and the help of his knees, Ted rolled to the side so at least he wasn't at the disadvantage of being on his back, and did him the same favour he did his little friend over there, clocking him in the face with his left fist. Scrabbling at the wizard still, attempting to claw at his face, Roderick reeled back as his vision blurred into a mess of black and green spots. Oof. His eye squinting up from the pain, he could feel it beginning to water. Oh, no; not again. He was not crying. Kicking out wildly to knock Tonks away, he pulled himself up to his knees and pointed his wand down at him, his breathing erratic as he planned out what he was going to do. The wizard was saturated - and what went nicely with water? "Candidus ignis," he recited, his voice surprisingly level considering how unstable he acting. Ted was also breathing heavily from the exertion, and the pain from his wrist and throbbing head and burns and what were probably scratches all over his face (what the fuck). He was getting tired, but as long as this stayed a fistfight, Ted did feel like he had the upper hand. These Death Eaters didn't seem to be big on getting their hands dirty. So of course Crazy had to whip out his wand, and Ted's eyes widened as the Death Eater uttered the incantation. There were puddles-- Ted had never been struck by lightning before, but today was just full of fun, eye-opening experiences. With the water he'd used to put out the fire acting as conductor, electricity shot throughout Ted's body, and he fell back again, burned and shaking and on the very edge of consciousness. Roderick had no time to enjoy his victory; kneeling in the puddles his robes already sodden, the discharge from his own spell jumped the gap and surged through his body. It was like being set on fire from the core outwards, an unbelievable heat overwhelming him, his knees collapsing underneath him. Lying flat on his back, drenched, burnt and twitching spasmodically, his eyes rolled back into his head as he struggled with the white-out of pain. Every muscle shaking uncontrollably, he jerked and twitched in the puddles, whimpering hoarsely. And oh no. Not him. But as thoroughly wrung out and miserable as he was feeling, he couldn't ignore the shouts heralding the arrival of Albus bloody Dumbledore. Driven purely by the desire to never see the inside of Azkaban, he hauled himself onto his hands and knees and crawled away from the limp (and with any luck, soon to be lifeless) body of the annoying blonde wizard. Reaching the wall that his comrade had knocked himself out on, he scrabbling at the bricks with his nails, dragging himself to his feet, his ankles behaving like rubber as the bended and swayed under the weight of his-- oof. Back pressed against the wall, he pulled himself back to his feet again, his head lolling and his left arm swingingly uselessly. His toes were nudging the unconscious form of the Death Eater, and if he had a conscience, he might have felt guilty for his condition. As it was, Roderick dragged the unconscious body up the rough brick wall not out of concern, but for insurance; whoever it was underneath the mask would owe their life to Roderick, and he intended to exploit that to its full potential - as soon as his muscles stopped twitching like eager rabbits. Gripping the back of his comrade's robes, pressing him face first into the wall to hold him up, he steeled himself and stepped back to quickly, and shakily, turn on the spot with a rather sluggish po-..hop. |