An Ill Wind - Mod Journal (illwindmod) wrote in an_ill_wind, @ 2009-06-07 23:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | !! group: death eaters, !! group: ootp, - 1980/06 june, alecto carrow, christian avery, dorcas meadowes, fenrir greyback, marlene mckinnon, sturgis podmore |
AOM - Part Seven!
Who: Order VERSUS the Death Eaters
What: IT'S A TRAP
When: 7 June, evening
Where: Hogsmeade
Rating: R-ish
Status: Completed log, multiple posts!
Sturgis VERSUS Christian
When Stu had received Aberforth's Patronus, he'd been at the Knight Bus garage, just finishing his shift. Glad that it had found him in the empty locker room rather than onboard the bus full of passengers, he'd frowned at the message. Not good, not good at all. Apparating home, he changed out of his uniform and grabbed the mask he'd just bought a few days ago. Barely five minutes after the first, a second Patronus arrived. Outnumbered! Trap! Hog's Head, need everyone! He fought back the shiver that ran up his spine at the words as he put the mask on and cast a spell to keep it firmly in place. He wasn't ready for this, but he'd never be, to be honest. He wasn't an Auror or a hitwizard. Yet he'd signed up with the Order, and today it meant fighting.
So fight he would.
He Apparated to Hogsmeade with a tell-tale 'pop', wand in hand, running all the defensive spells he remembered in his head. The village was a mess, houses and shops burning, Death Eaters in their robes and masks fighting with... he recognised Sirius here, Edgar there, before he snapped to attention as he noticed a Death Eater just on his left. Casting a shield on himself, he then turned his wand on the approaching enemy. "Petrificus Totalus!"
Christian had been among the last of the Death Eaters to arrive at the Hog's Head, but despite his usual indifferent disposition, he had come prepared. Dressed in his black robes and completely masked, he wandered through the crowds of screaming, frightened people, the sound of total chaos bringing a tingly feeling to his fingers and arms and the occasional shudder of sheer excitement. For the most part, he had warded off every hex, curse, and spell sent his way, but he had not yet had so much as as confrontation with any single member of the Order. He weaved through the anarchy and cast the occasional Cruciatus Curse or stunning spell at the opponents of his fellow masked colleagues. It was mid-Crucio when Christian heard a faint pop among the loud havoc and caught a glimpse of an Order member. Wand raised, he lunged forward toward the newly arrived and nearly failed to dodge the full body-bind curse thrown his way. "Stupefy!" he bellowed viciously.
Stu's shield deflected the stunning spell the Death Eater had sent his way. This first success somewhat calmed his nerves, giving him a little confidence in his rusty duelling skills. He could do this. He had to. Expelliarmus! He doubted it would work, but it was worth trying - and repeatedly so - in the hope that it would eventually get through. A disarmed Death Eater wouldn't be half as dangerous. Stu knew this wasn't enough though, and he threw a second hex almost immediately. Impedimenta! Worried that his shield might have weakened as he'd concentrated on other spells, he strengthened it, knowing that his opponent's reply would come swiftly.
As an instant reflex, Christian blocked the spell with one loud utterance of "Protego!" And though he was slightly caught off guard by the quick pace his opponent possessed, he focused on the archive of spells and dark arts stored away in his memory. He pulled the first one that came to mind and used it in an attempt to gain the upper hand in the fight, "Deprimo!" And without a moment's pause between the spells, he set forth wild flames with incendio, directing them at his enemy's feet, hoping to get the man to dance a little.
A very powerful wind hit Stu's shield, but it held, to his relief. It had weakened though, and when flames were thrown at his feet, he did jump back, heat seeping through his shoes and the hem of his robes catching fire. Aguamenti! he yelped, extinguishing the flames before it burnt his skin. Bloody hell stupid Death Eater and their damn duels, he'd show him he could duel too! He threw a conjunctivitis curse and then, as an afterthought, added a jelly-fingers jinx. Blinded and unable to hold his wand, his opponent would be at his mercy.
Now, all that Stu could do was hope that they got through the Death Eater's shield... and cast a new shield of his own. Protego!
Christian was able block the first curse, but the second came too quickly and the best of the situation that came for Christian was a weakened jelly-fingers jinx. He nearly dropped his wand, fumbling with it for a split second, and then gripped it as tight as possible with fingers that were now feeling heavy and weak. Christian gritted his teeth and took several long strides toward the other man, all while snarling, "Crucio!" He wished for the best result, that he could bend this man to his knees and blast him into the next decade, and for good measure, he threw in a freezing charm which he doubted would work at the severity he hoped for, and then he shouted once more, "Crucio!"
Stu's satisfaction at seeing one of his jinx hit was short-lived and he shivered when he heard the Death Eater cast one of the Unforgivables against him. Protego! he repeated, strengthening his shield just in time to block both cruciatus curses and the freezing charm. Protego! he repeated again, for good measure, as his shield had been greatly damaged by the attack. He was beginning to run out of offensive spells, his arsenal not that impressive to begin with, and he sent another Expelliarmus! as he racked his brain to think of curses. Finally coming up with something - it felt quite long to him, but had only taken a couple of seconds - he threw a tripping jinx, then Silencio.
"Protego," was all Christian muttered in order to block the influx of spells and curses coming his way. Dodging magic and continuously warding off whatever happened to be thrown his way was slowly but steadily wearing him down, and as he checked himself, his breath a little ragged, he could feel his fingers still tingling unpleasantly from the jelly-fingers jinx that had hit him only half-strength. Building up his defensive shield, he weighed his options. The Imperius Curse would never work in this setting, and he just wanted the job done. He dug deeper into his memory, trying to remember some of the dark arts he had taught himself in his school days. His voice was strained with frustration as he viciously cast a curse that, if it even reached his opponent, would crush the windpipe and hopefully suffocate him. It had worked in the past, but the impossibility of this duel was driving Christian mad.
It did work, sadly for Stu. His shield had weakened - he'd have to practice on holding a shield for longer - and though it absorbed some of the strength of the curse, it didn't deflect it entirely. He couldn't breath, couldn't speak to cast a spell to stop it... He was beginning to panic when he thought of wordless casting and, concentrating as best he could while he was suffocating, he cast a silent Finite Incantatem. Relief washed over him as he felt the curse lift and release his windpipe. He drew a deep breath, then attacked once more, this time throwing a Confundo!
In the very brief pause between exchange of curses and spells, Christian strengthened his shield and ran through the list of dark arts in his mind. His opponent was struggling with that last curse, and he took advantage of the tiny fraction of time; just as a spell intended to befuddle him was cast his way, he shouted out the same fire-based curse he used before, "Incendio!" This time, however, he directed it at the masked face before him, hoping that even if it was dodged, it would still catch something else - a piece of clothing, a limb, anything - and set the bastard ablaze.
Forgetting his shield, Stu ducked to his right to avoid the flames bursting his way, but not quickly enough. He was hit on the left arm, the flames soon engulfing his entire sleeve, burning through the fabric, reaching his skin. It hurt like hell and he screamed as pain got intolerable. Thankfully he was right-handed and, snapping his wand, he cast Aguamenti to extinguish the flames. It kept them from reaching further, but it was too late for his arm, deeply burnt, fabric disintegrated, flakes of it sticking on his cloaked skin. Pain wasn't as horrible now that the fire was out, but it still hurt like hell. He wished now more than ever that he knew some Healing charms.
More than anything, though, Stu was enraged. Incensed. Furious. Name all those synonyms, he was all of those things. And when he saw the Death Eater looking at him as if he was admiring his handy work... it was too much and he snapped, casting the most powerful blasting curse he'd ever cast - and probably ever would - at the wall behind the Death Eater, utterly destroying it, sending bricks flying at his opponent's head.
His arrogance got the better of him, for when Christian stopped to admire the rather beautiful fiery scene he had created before him, there was hardly a second for him to think or defend himself against his enemy's next offensive attack. He heard an explosion and loud crumbling, but without a moment to turn to see what the ruckus was, Christian was hit in the head with an airborn brick. He took another one to the back of the leg, and two more to the back. He felt something snap in his upper back and couldn't hold back the shout of pain that came after. He fell to the ground, hand gripping his wand tightly, head spinning wildly. In the back of his mind a voice screamed at him to get up, to cast a defensive shield, and he barely managed to mutter the word protego before he started to see bright spots before his eyes.
Relief washed over Stu when he saw the Death Eater crumble to the ground. He didn't know how long he could have kept fighting. Casting a shield on himself, just in case, he waited a few seconds, taking in the carnage around them as he did. When he saw Dorcas in serious trouble, barely able to move as she laid on the ground, he gave one last look at his own opponent and rushed towards her, trying to forget his toasted left arm and its intolerable pain. She needed help, and he could - and he would - give it to her.
Dorcas VERSUS Fenrir
Fenrir's senses were flooded with the scent of blood and the unmistakable smell of someone's insides. His attention had been caught earlier by the screams, but now it was impossible to stop the animal in him. He'd missed a hunt to be here now, after all and he was hungry. The large hulking form of the werewolf made a beeline straight for the fallen girl, blind to all but injured prey.
Still lying on the ground, Dorcas's head rolled to the side just in time to see the giant, seemingly feral man coming straight for her. She screamed as loudly as she could possibly manage and tried desperately to scramble somewhere. Somewhere that was not in the path of that thing but she could barely push herself into a sitting position. With one hand still clutching at her stomach, trying desperately to keep her insides inside of her, she summoned every bit of strength she possessed, fuelled by panic and sheer survival instinct as she sent a "Reducto!" flying at him.
Fenrir was transfixed at the amount of blood, overextending his senses as he made his approach. He was so distracted by the smells of fear mingled with sweat and blood that he didn't even bother to go for his wand. The spell collided with his chest, blasting away a section of muscle and flesh. Blood poured down his torso and the wolf was blown flat on his back. But now there was simply adrenaline mixed with his hunger and after a moment, Fenrir pushed himself to his feet, wavering slightly but then breaking into a flat run.
Shite, shite, shite! Any satisfaction she might have found in actually managing to hit the bastard was gone as soon as he began charging at her again. God, she just wanted to collapse. Her head was spinning and her entire body was in agony but she knew if she didn't manage to at least fend off her attacker until someone managed to come help her, she was dead. And dammit where the fuck was Edgar? He was supposed to protect her, just as he had always done. She couldn't do this on her own. "Deprimo!" she cried out desperately before falling back to the ground. Fuck. Get up, Dorcas, she told herself. Get the fuck up NOW.
Again, Fenrir couldn't control his instincts and the spell blasted through the thick meat of his thigh, sending him down in a heap. But he was close now and after a pained growl, he dragged himself across the last foot or it took to put her in arm's reach. An unnaturally strong hand gripped her ankle and Fenrir pulled her toward him like a rag doll. As soon as she was close enough, he sank his teeth into her calf, hot blood spilling over his tongue.
He bit her? He fucking bit her! If it weren't so fucking surreal (and painful!), Dorcas might have even managed to laugh at the absurdity of it all because fucking hell, who bit someone in the middle of a battle... And that was right about the point when the realisation hit her. No mask and cloak of the Death Eater, drawn to blood, unnatural strength, near-feral... oh. Fuck. And she hadn't thought it was possible for her to panic any more. Dorcas lashed out, kicking wildly with her un-mauled leg as she desperately tried to shove the werewolf away with her foot. She didn't care if he took a good chunk of her leg with him as long as she could just get the fuck away from him. But he was well over twice her size and it felt like she was kicking up against a brick wall. Well clearly that wasn't going to work. Instead, after giving one more hard-as-she-could-manage kick to the beast's shoulder, she sent a hurling hex at Fenrir's head to try and throw him off.
Fenrir was more or less unaffected by the kicking, his mind solely on his meal as he tore away a mouthful of muscle, only barely chewing before swallowing. It was delicious and his only thought was on another mouthful when the hurling hex hit him, throwing him another handful of metres away. His chest burned and Fenrir's leg was useless as he irritably made his way back across the space between them. His face and beard were covered in blood and any proper humanity in him seemed to have disappeared on the first scent of blood. He dragged himself over the gravel, unmindful of the rock and dirt collecting in his wounds. Right now nothing mattered but the next bite, and he wound his fingers around her ankle again. The thigh this time, behind the knee.
God, this was like some twisted and perverse game of fetch gone terribly wrong. She flailed desperately, trying to keep him from getting a grip on her again but he was too strong and no matter how she tried, she couldn't quite move fast enough, not when everything hurt and even summoning the strength to keep kicking at him was an effort. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, both from pain and frustration as she tried to think of something she could do. Something to get away... And for the first time since she had arrived, Dorcas tried to apparate out of there. She didn't care if she splinched herself into five different pieces as long as it meant she wasn't going to be werewolf food anymore. And then as she felt the wards all around her, keeping her from escape, all she could do was let out an angry, agonised cry. She couldn't run, she couldn't apparate and every damn time she sent the fucker flying back he just came right for her again. She couldn't even distinguish one source of pain from another and it was only a sudden, loud explosion from one of the nearby buildings - she didn't even know which one - that brought her back to some semblance of awareness. She may not have had the strength to fight back herself, but that didn't mean she was completely helpless.
Dragging her hand across the gravel, she pointed her wand at the nearest flaming building behind the werewolf and summoned a large chunk of the burning roof with a gasped, "Accio." This was probably a horrible plan. The giant sheet of fire and sharp-edged debris now hurtling towards them was likely going to be the death of her. But at this point if it took out the werewolf in the process she suddenly wasn't quite so sure she minded.
Fenrir was mid-bite again, feeling soft flesh yield and then break between his teeth when something rather large and sharp and hot collided with him. He was thrown another few feet away, not quite so hungry even as he swallowed the mouthful he'd torn away from her leg. Burning wood kept him pinned for a moment, burning his abdomen. Shrapnel was embedded into his arms and shoulders and a rather high-pitched whimper escaped his throat as he finally shoved the piece of roof off him,burning his fingers and palms in the process. It hurt and finally, his injuries seemed to catch up with him. He was losing blood rather quickly at this point and the meal suddenly didn't seem worth it.
He could only lay there for a moment, panting, the odd canine whimper leaving his lips as he realised just how bad he was hurt. He'd had enough of her. Even the intoxicating smell that emanated from inside the human body wasn't enough to make him go after her again.
Even as Fenrir took the brunt of the impact from the flaming chunk of roof, sparks and shards of burning wood still rained down on Dorcas, stinging and searing her skin. She hardly noticed. All she cared about was that the werewolf was gone and she summoned the last of her strength to twist her battered body around out of fear that she would see him charging at her yet again. But he was lying there, seemingly unmoving and at that all too relieving sight, Dorcas collapsed back on the ground with a soft, weak cry of pain. She just needed to stay awake. She just needed to try and stop some of the bleeding. But god, her head was spinning and no matter how many times she told herself that all she needed to do was lift her wand, the most she could manage was to drag her arm up to her chest, wand still firmly clenched in her hand as if her life depended on it. And then the din of noise that surrounded her seemed to suddenly grow quiet. Muted. That was rather nice, she thought idly as her eyes fluttered closed and she slipped into unconsciousness.
Marlene VERSUS Alecto
Marlene was late - late. She wasn't happy about it either. She had been lucky enough to have gotten Aberforth's Patronus while she was outside (alone) on a break smoking a cigarette, but she had a bit of a hiccup trying to get out of the hospital without finding herself jobless. It had taken all of her persuasive powers to talk one of the Healers that was getting off of their shift to stay for another three to cover her own arse. Then she needed to pop by her flat to change out of rather telling lime green robes and find her mask - and while there Edgar's patronus came.
Needless to say, Marlene was late and she was nervous as all hell when she was finally ready to Apparate into the middle of Hogsmeade. And, really, it was right for her to feel nervous. She took a quick assess of the situation, looking around to see if there was anyone anywhere that needed to be treated and taken care of. Her initial glances said no, so instead she started to run through the crowd. "Expelliarmus!"
Alecto had just lost sight of Edgar and Calypso when she saw a flash of red streak by her, barely missing her. She turned to see a woman running through the crowd towards her. Alecto slashed her wand and cast a silent "</i>impedimentia</i>" followed by a slashing hex at the woman, hoping to take her out quickly.
Marlene saw the Death Eater and was able to dodge the impedimentia, but that left her arm right in the way of the slashing hex. She cried out just slightly as she felt the cut go through her robes and just above her left wrist, but she ignored the blood for now. She could heal it in a moment. Instead, she clenched her jaw and let out a silent slashing hex right back before murmuring out, "Protego," to bring up a shield.
The slashing hex caught Alecto's wand arm, because she was in the process of sending another curse at Marlene. Deep cuts appeared, and Alecto screamed the word, "Crucio" directly at Marlene, her anger causing her to neglect to bring up her own shield charm.
Marlene heard and saw the curse coming toward her and it gave her just enough time to strengthen her shield and jump out of the way. She furrowed her brow and let out a slight grunt as she silently repeated another slashing hex, running slightly to the side in an effort to keep out of the way of any spells Alecto might throw at her again. The last thing she wanted was to be on the receiving end of an Unforgivable.
Alecto had started to follow Marlene, but was hit by the slashing hex again, stopping her in her tracks. The badly healed wounds on her chest opened up again, and Alecto swayed a bit on the spot as she started to lose blood again. The blood loss was causing her head to fog. Both angry and in pain, she flicked her wand and sent a large piece of debris flying at the young woman.
"Fuck," Marlene swore under her breath, jumping to the side but missing her step. She tripped, her left arm being hit with the debris and she left out a hiss. The fabric was ripped to the point where she could look down and see deep into her arm. She was losing blood and she was losing blood fast, but she needed to finish this first. Angrily, she decided to give Alecto a taste of her own medicine, her wand picking up a piece of debris - was it a bit of the sidewalk? Marlene didn't even know at this point - and jerked so it flew toward her opponent. Not even a full second later she followed it up with, "Impedimentia!"
Barely registering what was coming at her at, Alecto tried to dodge, but was too slow because of both blood loss and a wounded leg. The piece of sidewalk impaled itself in her left shoulder just shy of her heart, knocking her to the ground. She blinked and saw a sharp piece of concrete sticking out her shoulder. Her wand still in her hand, she sent a stunning spell in no particular direction which was intended for Marlene and promptly passed out.