Fenrir thinks you're pretty when you cry. (unmuzzled) wrote in an_ill_wind, @ 2009-07-13 01:24:00 |
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Fenrir had rather been looking forward to this night. In fact, ever since he'd been approached with this, he'd been craving this. An attack on wizards that wasn't just so he could eat. He was hungry for terror and chaos and with a pack of his own, he was indifferent to the crimes of these wizards. No one was innocent after all. They were inferior to him anyway. He was stronger and faster than all of them. And he was hungry. He would enjoy the mess. After a calculated apparation, he looked down on the mess of a house that was the Weasley residence. The unmistakable stench of human flooded his nostrils and a canine growl started low in his chest. There was magic here, he could sense it. But he doubted it would stop them. Let them know he was on his way. He hoped they put up a fight. The hunt, after all, was half the fun. He turned and looked at the handful he'd brought with him. Some were capable fighters. Others he was less sure about. But he assumed that would change at the first sniff of blood. If there was any leveler for werewolves, it was blood lust. "Aim to kill," he instructed shortly. "Selene, Henry, Malificient, come with me to the front. The rest of you take the back door. If there isn't one, break the fucking windows." Short, no room for argument. It was just simple dominance. With that, Fenrir started closer to the house, feeling wards snap and trip around him and not caring. He'd brought his wand. He hoped he didn't have to use it. He just wanted blood tonight. Henry Bacchus Lowell, homeless hippy wanderer (for the most part) one day, family murderer the next. He wasn't all quite sure what had happened. To him, or to his life. Not that it really mattered, he supposed, people were people and most of them deserved what they got. It was easy to say this when the people were strangers to him, he was fully aware, but people he knew..? There was no point dwelling on it. The Weasleys were exactly that - strangers to him. Their deaths would not bother him. All too much. Henry's first impression of the Burrow was that of anticipation and anxiety. It was a symbol of his turning into a real werewolf, his first proper battle, his own confirmation of his new life. He had killed people before, mostly while in his werewolf form, and it had not bothered him. At first, he was guilt-ridden and had nightmares but after a while, it was as if he became less humane with every human encounter. They were all the same. Judging, cowardly bastards - wizards or not. Henry's attention quickly switched back to the task at hand upon hearing his own forename called by Fenrir. He felt abashedly proud, as if being called by his first name was of the utmost importance as opposed to his surname or just a point of the finger. It was like he mattered, especially upon hearing the dismissive proceeding 'rest of you'. It never occurred to Henry that he might have been called to join the leader's party because he wasn't an adept fighter. Which was true (he had only ever achieved As and Es in Hogwarts) but still would've made him resentful knowing. One of the first in the group, Henry strode along. He was eager and he didn't even know what for. To kill? He wasn't sure. It was more likely to be to feel the adrenaline and to finally put his wand to good use with spells that were not scourgify or domestic in any way. Perhaps it was to kill, to wipe out a whole life, to devastate others with endless grief and regret. Whatever the reason, Henry was ready and raring to go. The wards were being tripped, and he had just whipped out his wand. Selene was visibly excited, both for the task at hand and for the fact that she had been placed in Fenrir's small group. She was so excited, in fact, that she didn't even think that there was a possibility that she was called to the front because she couldn't handle herself. Perhaps it was her arrogance coming through, but she held her head high as she came to the front of the group and followed Fenrir, the other wolf, and the hag. She wasn't too sure about the hag. She had never encountered someone of that kind, but at the moment she had orders to follow and her apprehensive feelings toward Malificent were largely ignored. She felt the wards as they came through them, but the overwhelming scent of children distracted her enough that she didn't give them a second thought. A smile covered her face. Sure, they had orders to kill, but maybe they could take a few with them. She had known nothing about the Weasley's except that they were Wizards and that was enough. She now knew that they had children, a lot by the smell of it, and she adored children, though not in the typical sense. Really, she wanted to turn them and her mind, that was a fate greater than death or being mauled. She had her wand on her, though she would much rather use her teeth and nails than the stick of wood that the human witches and wizards cherished so much. She ached to smell the fear in the air that would come soon, and a distinctively canine-like whine of anticipation rose in her throat as she waited for more orders or for someone to make the first move. Reyes hated Apparation. Having to hold on to someone else, someone magical, to speed up the travel. And it was disorienting. She hadn't bothered with it in a while, but if she got a chance to fight--a real fight, for the first time in a long while--it would be worth it. Reyes wasn't as fond of attacking humans as so many of the others seemed to be. Wizards, on the other hand, she didn't mind screwing with. And she brought her hunting knife along for the fun. She didn't know who these people were, and she didn't really care. She was back in a pack, and she wanted to keep it that way. She nodded at Fenrir's command, taking the lead as they circled around to the back of the house. It was run-down, but she could feel the magic. It gave her the chills. She was light on her feet. If these damn wizards had something that could inform them she was coming, Reyes would rather not give away her exact position. The banshee and the vampire were with her, but Reyes didn't pay attention to them. She crept up to the door, pressing her hands against the wood. She'd been a werewolf for five years, and she'd been burned by silver more than once. She could smell it in the door handle now. The question was, whether to just kick the door in or let one of the others open it and go for discretion. As a vampire with no actual magical aptitude, Charles had never been able to master apparation. It really did seem to be an extraordinary way to travel even if he felt as if he had been sucked into a vacuum. Standing upright in the lawn, he crossed his arms and considered the possibilities. These people must have quite a few children in the family. Their blood was practically screaming at him to be drunk. He'd have to hold off on that exhiliarating rush until he and his comrades had disposed of the older relatives. It would be quite a pity to be stabbed in the middle of the blood-drinking routine. Giving Fenrir a curt nod at his instruction to join the banshee and werewolf, Charles followed behind the wolf. Ironic really that he'd be paired with a werewolf, if only the world knew that their rivalry was really more of a competition for the most press coverage. The inherent magic in this ramshackle home seemed quite strong and Charles grinned despite himself. He had always enjoyed fighting the magical folk better than muggles anyways. Spotting the werewolf hesitate at the door, he sniffed the air. He caught a hint of silver and remembered quickly that werewolves hated silver. Apparently, the stuff left nasty burns so Charles acted the gentleman and turned the knob, which surprisingly was unlocked. No need to give their existence to the home's inhabitants just yet by kicking the thing open. For that reason, he pushed the door open quietly and stepped backwards from the entrance to let the others proceed. Banshees, like elves, had their own breed of magic, and were able to apparate on their own. The practice was not their usual method of travel, since it took quite a bit of focus and energy. But it was much preferable to apparating with the aid of a some human. So Essa arrived on the patch of lawn outside the strange looking home in front of her. With a nod to Greyback, at his orders, she accompanied the vampire and werewolf. Essa did not care about the inhabitants inside the home, she was more interested in making these wizards hurt for their crimes against banshees in the past. She paused, confused at the hesitation on the part of the werewolf, but shrugged it off when the vampire opened the door instead and made way for them to enter. She crept into the house quietly, not making a sound. She was used to stalking invaders in her woods, and could move without causing any disturbance. This house was strange, with its many floors and unnatural gadgets. Pausing, she looked back at the other two and cocked her head, the non-verbal question simple: which way? Malificient was so excited she thought she might burst from simply being here, even if she was decidedly woozy after whatever that disappearing trick had been. Appetite? Disappetite? Whatever the word was, it sounded like hungry, and Malificient was hungry. Gazing at Fenrir with something like adoration across her warped features (she hadn't bothered with a glamour tonight - oho no! Tonight they hunted, there was no mistaking what they were after) she let out a wheezy giggle as she followed the wolves, short legs moving so quickly to keep up she appeared to totter across the ground. The wooziness was rapidly disappearing as she smelled children, and she clapped her hands together quietly, stomach rumbling in appreciation. She didn't care the slightest, whether or not she was accompanying Fenrir due to her distinct lack of ability - she'd probably jump off a cliff if he instructed her to, at this point. No, no, she was far too caught up in what waited inside, the delicious aroma of multiple children making her salivate. She could vaguely feel the wards, and while magic usually made her stop and contemplate (as much as she was able to contemplate), tonight she could've walked into a swinging sledgehammer, for all she cared, and wouldn't have felt it in the slightest. Come on come on come on come on. Why did it have to be such a long walk to the house? It seemed like an age, really. Anxiety was biting at him, snapping at his heels. He wanted to get in, do the job and get out. Simple? Yes. Likely? No. Thinking angry thoughts made him speed up. Quite efficient, really. And so he did. About werewolves, about why he was here, about his family, about his life. He broke into a run soon enough to cover what little ground they had left and approached the door. His first instinct was to open it. After all, many people, he knew, tended to leave their doors open out of naivete. So he grabbed and turned and frowned. It was locked. It only took Henry a second to realize that casting a spell to open the door instead was not his top priority at the moment... "Fucking bastards!" he screamed, face contorted into something that looked very much a monster from the darkest pits of hell. His now narrowed (and quite teary) eyes glared at his own severely burnt palm and fingers, before taking their attention to the doorknob. Silver. He let out an enraged howl which felt as though it was ripping his throat to shreds, before unleashing a hell of a lot of pent up anger on their door with his feet and whenever he tried to use his hands to punch but forgot, he would use his head, which hurt very much and only made him angrier. It was a vicious circle. Fenrir listened to his pack - as they were all quickly becoming in his mind, werewolf or not - get into the house. Nearly. He was quite pleased with Henry's eagerness, but he could smell the sharpness of the silver in the air as he approached the door. The young wolf though, was ahead and Fenrir couldn't tell just what was silver until he heard Henry's howl of pain. The doorknobs. Idly, he hoped those in the back of the house would have thought not to use Reyes to open the door and instead turned his attention to the task at hand. He placed a firm hand on Henry's shoulder and pulled him a foot away from the door. Rather roughly actually. Gentle, after all, wasn't actually in Fenrir's vocabulary. "Save it for the bastards inside," he growled, not wanting to quell his anger so much as redirect it. You couldn't kill a door, after all. Though he was inwardly pleased at his efforts. With that though, he took a proper look at the door and with one heavy foot, kicked the whole thing nearly off it's hinges. Open, anyway. It was loud, but honestly if the wards hadn't alerted the inhabitants of intruders already, this was going to be child's play. An alarm shrieking in their bedroom woke Molly with a start and it took her a moment to realise what it was. When she finally did, fear shot through her. Turning, she saw Arthur was already awake too so she fumbled for her wand in the dark. "What is it?" she asked, but while the alarm was still shrieking, there was no other noise. Deep in a dream about an age long past when Arthur had gone swimming with his older brother, an alarm sent him out of bed. Arthur ripped the night cap he was wearing off his head and placed his hand where his wand should have been. Thankfully he had judged correctly and he replied to Molly after securing the wand in his right hand, "I am pretty sure that is the ward alarm that Fabian & Gideon set up. You would think that we would hear some other noise if we have intruders on the premises." "Fabian and Gideon should be here any minute then," Molly said, feeling a bit relieved at that thought. Moving over to the window, she peered out into the darkness but couldn't really make anything out. "I might check on the boys while I'm up," she said, feeling a bit uneasy but unable to find anything to attribute it to. Just then a scream was heard from the vicinity of the front of the house and Molly's eyes widened in fear. "Merlin, someone's here." "Yeah probably," Arthur agreed solemnly. Being a Sunday night, they should be at home but last night would have been more dicey. Fabian was probably off shacking up with some girl. It was different when a bloke like Gideon had a girl to keep him tied down. "Sounds like a good idea. I'll take the bedrooms on the left," Arthur declared as he moved towards the door with his wand lax at his side. At the moment he reached the door, he started at the scream, "Oh fucking brilliant, what is that?" Before dashing out into the hallway, he reassured Molly, "I love you and don't you ever forget that. Now let's go see what kind of sick bastards we have messing around outside. If we can, let's get the kids out of here and head to a rendezvous point away from the house. Do you have any ideas in mind for where we could go?" "I love you too," Molly replied fervently, gripping her wand tighter. She was afraid, yes, but she was getting angry too that someone was daring to threaten her family. "Gideon and Fabian's flat. They suggested it when they put the wards up for us." Following Arthur out into the hallway, Molly flinched when she heard the sound of their door being broken down. "Hurry!" she exclaimed, running towards the twins bedroom. [FENRIR VS ARTHUR] Fenrir stalked into the house, shoulders clearing the staircase by a mere handful of inches as he made his way upwards from the first floor. He could hear his companions all over the house, but he was single-minded now. He could smell kids all over this house. And he didn't even have to search. A red-headed boy with rather messy hair wandered out in the hall, tired looking and confused at the noise. Fenrir took several steps forward and hoisted him into his arms. Kicking and screaming. His first reaction was to just shut the little boy up, screams loud to his sensitive ears. But the kids, he wanted alive. Kind of. Some of them anyway, and this one looked to be about nine or ten, which was plenty old for turning, in Fenrir's professional opinion. Dashing out of the bedroom with his wand outstretched, Arthur had only taken two strides before noticing Fenrir holding Bill in his arms. "Put him down, you son of a bitch," Arthur declared in a commanding voice trying to mask the fear he was feeling at that moment. He was distinctly hoping that he would lower him to the floor before he cast something at the man. Arthur could not afford to miss and hit Bill with a wayward spell. Because of that, he hurriedly cast a Blasting hex at Greyback's legs and then a diffindo charm towards the same place. Fenrir looked supremely amused as the obvious father appeared in the corridor. "I think I'll take him with me actually," he half-growled, gutteral and canine as his voice was these days. In his arms, the little boy screamed louder, pounding against the solid muscle of Fenrir's chest. The werewolf could only laugh. Right up until the blasting curse collided with his legs. He very nearly fell, his hold on the child loosening in his ungraceful attempts to remain upright. Fenrir growled in pain and in a fit of rage, sank his teeth angrily into the boy's shoulder, tearing off a mouthful of skin and muscle before discarding him to the side of the hall. Enough. He barrelled down the corridor, hulking form only made slightly less intimidating by a limp after his leg being blasted. He could smell the fear coming off of this man and he had every intention of justifying any worries he was having. His lips and chin was already smeared with blood and suddenly, he was hungry for more. Arthur's heart leapt when he saw the werewolf almost fall but shrieked in anger when the man bit a large chunk out of Bill's shoulder. Yelping at Bill to return to his room and lock the fucking door, Arthur watched in frenzied astonishment as the attacker lunged down the hallway. This was going from bad to worse in a matter of moments. Arthur cast a Conjunctivitis curse towards Fenrir's face and then a defodio spell at the man's torso. Hopefully these would stop the crazy bastard from coming any nearer. Fenrir dodged the first curse, jerking his head angrily to the side. But the movement threw weight onto his wounded leg and he stumbled, all but falling into the gouging hex. It collided violently with his side, just below his rib cage and he howled in pain, hot blood pouring from the wound. Fortunately (or not, as the case might have been) pain had never been a very good deterrent for Fenrir, he dove the rest of the way, shoving the man's wand arm out of the way so he could sink his teeth into him. Anywhere and everywhere he could reach, really. He'd had enough screwing around with magic. He was an animal, spurred by blood lust and the wolfish need to bite. Eyes widening in horror and agony as Fenrir bit into the shoulder of his non-wand arm, Arthur shouted, "Fucking bastard! Get the hell off me!" Of course, that did not work and the bloody wolf moved his chomping to right above Arthur's left knee. Arthur knew that it was now or never if he wanted to live to see another day. Poking his wand into the crazy animal, he yelped painfully, "Incendio." Of course, both human and wolf possessed an awe or fear of fire and immediately, Fenrir withdrew, arm and chest burnt and blistering by the fire. He growled in pain, withdrawing and striking against the wizard's wand arm with a fist. Fucking fuckish wizards. How dare they turn a wand on him? He snarled angrily and threw a few heavy blows against towards Arthur's ribs, angry at being burnt and by the fact that he was bleeding and once more, he lashed out with teeth, instinct taking over any actual human rationality that might still be lurking in his brain. The heavy punch landing on Arthur's wand arm hurt like no punch ever had for Arthur. He had never been a fighter at school or anywhere else so this was all very new to him. Considering that fire had worked before, Arthur cast another incendio charm at the bastard's torso and then a blasting hex towards his upper body. Hopefully he could get this stupid animal away from him and spirit Bill out of here in the near future. The surrounding noise from the various rooms did not sound too good and Arthur began to wait for the perfect moment when he could bolt away, snatch Bill, and get the fuck out of the Burrow. Again, Fenrir snarled and drew himself away from the fire. It hurt and no amount of blood lust could really mask an animal's sense of self-preservation. He growled angrily, and then the blasting hex collided with his chest, throwing him against the wall of the corridor. Pain shot across his rib cage and the back of his head, and the giant of a man fell in a crumbled heap, dazed by the blow. Things seemed to be coming very slowly to him and he was panting through the pain, distracted by self-interest to be bothered with the damn wizard for the moment. Arthur looked up towards the ceiling when Fenrir finally collapsed to the ground, thanking Merlin for the save. Dashing through the corridor towards Bill's room as fast as he could on his slightly-mangled left leg, he opened the door and witnessed his oldest son on the bed holding a stuffed hippogriff to his chest. Arthur's heart melted at the touching scene but he remembered to act fast by magically sealing the door from any creatures who might wish them harm. "Come here, son," he held his arms open and a teary-eyed Bill jumped into them still holding the fluffy hippogriff. Arthur turned on his heel, wishing that Molly & all the kids would be accounted for at Fabian & Gideon's flat. Simultaneously, he apparated out for the safety of what he hoped to be an uncompromised location. [MOLLY VS ESSA/SELENE] Flinging open the door to the twins bedroom, Molly saw that her two year old boys had already clambered out of their cots. They were such little monkeys, always climbing all over the furniture. "Fred, George, come here, boys," she said, reaching for the boys who skittered away from her, each heading in a different direction and giggling. "Now is not the time!" she said in frustration, recognising this as one of their little games. It was frustrating at the best of times, but right now it was dangerous. "Fred. George. Come here this instant." Essa split off from the other two immediately as the werewolf let out a howl. She gave a low hiss, upset that all attempts at stealth had now been gone. Still able to move quietly, she moved rapidly through the house, seeking out the humans for the kill. As she skulked through the hallway, she noticed an open door down the hallway and heard movement. While she wanted to kill, she was still a bit drained from apparating. It did not come as naturally to her as it did to wizards. But no matter, she could still stun them and rip them to shreds later. Or leave them for her companions. Just as she began her approach, a small red-haired boy came darting out of the door. Essa snarled at the sight: she really hated human children, They stayed small and irritating for far too long. Before the boy could come any closer, Essa let out an ear piercing scream, gauranteeing that no one would be left asleep in the house. The scream sent a sonic blast at the young child who stopped immediately in his tracks and collapsed onto the floor, stunned. Molly managed to grab George and scooped him up into her arms just as Fred ran out the door into the hallway. The piercing scream she heard next chilled Molly and she quickly deposited George back in his crib with a stern order to "Stay put." Running out into the hallway, Molly's heart stopped to see her son lying cumpled on the floor. With no idea of if he was alive or dead, anger quickly replaced the fear and she raised her wand at the green banshee. "Petrificus Totalus." A human woman appeared from the hallway and she raised one of those unnatural sticks at her. Essa sprwaled to the floor as the witch shouted strange magical words, and the spell went over her head. Now becomming angry, the banshee raised herself into a crouching position and let out another piercing scream, directed at the witch. Remembering enough from her Defence Against the Dark Arts classes all those years ago, Molly recognised the woman as a banshee and when she opened her mouth to scream, Molly knew she had to protect herself so she could protect her boys. Ducking back into the twins room, Molly slammed the door shut, blocking the scream. She looked over at George who was gazing back at her with wide eyes. "It's alright, George," she soothed as best she was able to given the situation. "Fred's okay." When the scream ended, Molly opened the door, wand at the ready, preparing to get to Fred and take both boys to Ron's room. But when she opened the door, there wasn't just the banshee any more. There was another woman standing beside the banshee. Molly didn't normally swear, but she felt like it now. "You're not touching my boys," she spat, raising her wand at the two women. Molly was not a duellist, but she remembered enough defensive spells to get by. "Stupefy!" Selene herself had been wandering, waiting for something of interest to happen for her to take advantage of. She saw this chance when an adorable red-haired boy came out of his room. Smiling happily, Selene crouched down. "Come here sweet-" She was cut off by Essa scream, causing her to cover her ears and grimaced. Stupid banshee. Well, at least it would be easier for her to get to the child now. As she approached him, the mother reemerged and Selene narrowly escaped the curse thrown at her. Baring her teeth, Selene growled loudly and stalked toward Molly. It was then that she saw the other boy behind her, and she made the conscious descision to go after the one that wasn't stunned. That would be more fun. Sneering at the mother, she turned her gaze to the boy. "Come, come darling." she said, making her voice as bright and happy as possible. Essa was unaware that the female werewolf had joined her until she heard her becoming to the child. She did not mind fighting alongside another female, in fact, she took comfort in it. She was about to send out another scream to stun the mother, when the mother shouted and that unnatural stick she was holding released a jet of red light at her. The banshee was hit in the chest, and fell to the ground, stunned. Molly was pleased when at least the banshee was knocked out, but there was still that strange woman trying to lure George out of his bedroom. "Stay where you are, George," she said in her sternest You'll-Do-What-I-Say-Or-Face-The-Consequ Selene glanced back at the banshee as she fell, but decided against helping her for the time being. Her mind was completely and utterly focused on the children. As she saw that the conscious twin was not budging, she grew a bit impatient. "Come on sweetheart," she cooed, trying to keep her forced smile from looking more like a snarl. Red light shot toward her, and she just barely had her wand out in time to keep from getting stunned. Her shield was so weak, however, that she ended up being thrown backward by the force of it, landing on the ground, sprawled out on her back. With an angry growl, she stood once more, her steps more like stomps as she made her way back to mother and child. "You'll pay for that, missy." she said angrily, her eyes narrowed and lips drawn over her teeth. Quickly, she stepped forward and reached a hand out to snatch up the child inside the room. With luck she could get a hold of him and make off with the unconscious one as well. Fenrir would be so pleased. Molly was taken aback when the woman pulled out a wand, but hoped that her pathetic shield spell was the result of poor skills. "Stay away from my children!" Molly commanded imperiously, grabbing George's arm just as the woman managed to get ahold of him too. "Let him go!" Thinking quickly, Molly pointed her wand toward the woman's feet and cast a sticking charm, hoping that might at least slow her down a little so Molly could get a better hold of George. Selene hardly noticed the sticking charm at first, she was so focused on the fact that she had gotten ahold of the boy just as soon as his mother had taken hold of him. Rather than answer her, she growled at Molly yet again. She dug her nails into the boys arm, no longer caring if she hurt him, as long as she got him. It was only when she attempted to take a step back to pull the boy toward her that she realized that her feet were stuck to the ground and, once again, she found herself sprawled on her back. With a frown she pointed her wand at her feet, trying to remember the counter curse. It took a few moments, as magic was no longer a daily part of her life, but eventually she got it right. It took another moment for her to stand and another yet to try to get to the boy again. Molly took advantage of Selene's predicament and swung George up into her arms, holding him securely to her as he cried. Racing over to Fred's prone body, Molly's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her small son lying there. Glancing back at Selene, she noticed the woman was back on her feet and raised her wand. "Petrificus Totalus," she yelled, and as the spell burst from her wand, Molly grabbed hold of Fred and apparated them both to Gideon and Fabian's flat. Selene narrowly missed the the Body Bind, but her wand skittered away on the floor as she dodged it and landed heavily and painfully on her side. She scrambled after them, nearly grabbing a hold of Fred before the disapparated. With a snarl of frustration, she pushed herself into a sitting position, her fists pounding onto the floor. She crawled after her wand and pointed it toward the banshee laying stunned on the ground just a foot from her. "Rennervate" she spat out, reviving Essa. Slowly, she stood, her hand rubbing at her sore ribs. She would have to meet up with the rest of the pack, and figure out what to do next. [FABIAN VS CHARLES/HENRY] Fabian was really sort of disorientated upon waking up. Because honestly, it was Sunday night and he had a headache and this week had just pretty much sucked so he was rather looking forward to sleeping, please and thanks. It took him a moment to realise that the reason he was waking up was because the wards were going off like fucking crazy and it was loud. He leapt out of bed - fallen asleep still in his damn jeans and pulled a shirt on as he wrenched his door open, nearly bumping into Gideon on the way. But there was no one else around and fucking hell if their wards just went off for no fucking reason. It was only then that his sleepy brain remembered that he had set Molly's wards to go alert him if they were intruded upon. And with that thought, a rather large dose of adrenaline invaded his blood stream. "Gideon, shit, Molly and Arthur... the wards. Come on," were his quick instructions. And then he apparated, appearing outside the Burrow to doors left wide open and fucking hell what if he was too late? They were the only family he cared about. He sprinted inside, taking in the scene and fucking fuck what if it was Death Eaters and he really should alert... well someone in the Order who wasn't incapacitated or turned fucking purist. Which really sort of cut down their reliable numbers. Not that there was time anyway. It was only then that he spotted Charlie and he swore putting himself between the boy and the visible intruders, shoving him backwards and barking directions for him to hide before he turned his wand on the nearest monsters, growling "Confringo!" at the tallish man in front of him. Fucking fuck. Henry let out an anguished scream. His hand hurt - luckily, it had been his left and not his wand hand; that would've infuriated him beyond belief - and now there was some idiot with a wand standing in his way who surely couldn't have been their father. He was young, and not red-headed at all. Either way, he was here, and it was disrupting their plans - his plans. His plans to kill, to assure himself that this was his life now. He could kill and not care, not give a damn because in a way, he would be packing whoever was exterminated off to a better life than Henry himself had - they ought to be damn grateful to him. Henry watched the spell forming and travelling towards one of them and most definitely would not take any chances. Firing a Protego right back at him, Henry then barked a laugh while thinking of what spell to use. It would be amusing if somebody wasn't able to duel because they were being attacked by bats or because their legs had turned to jelly, wouldn't it? Amused with his own dysfuntional thought process, he took the chance to fire a Rictusempra as well as an old favourite of his - Impedimenta. He wasn't the best of duellers; he just wanted to be able to intentionally cast a serious spell without feeling conflicted and it was really pissing him off. Charles hated it when he got interrupted in the middle of a bloodsucking session. The adrenaline he had been riding since the moment that the kid's blood merged with his own screamed at him to continue. However, his excellent hearing probably saved his life as he suddenly leapt across the room behind a set of drawers out of immediate danger. Unfortunately, his favorite cape that he had worn tonight had been blasted apart by the man and Charles dropped what little remained at his feet. He had always wished that he could summon magic like these folks did but sometimes the magical sort over-relied on their aptitude and ignored their more human abilities. He'd been waiting for this day for quite a while. This was his first combat encounter with the magical folk since 1944. Thirty-six years was far too long in his estimation. Charles loved the battle frenzy that erupted within him every time he fought against people who could actually fight back. He'd love to see how long this bastard could hold off two ferocious creatures. Bringing all his rushing adrenaline to bear, Charles leapt at the dark-haired intruder from behind, hoping at the least to distract him from the spells that his werewolf partner had been sending. Fabian was in no mood to fuck around. This was his damn family and he was having those sort of nearly parental feelings that he would never admit to when it came to his nephews. He was their fucking Uncle Fabian and if anyone thought they were going to attack them, they were going to get the rude fucking end of his wand. Not there was a part of Fabian that wasn't innately rude or something. In any case, he dodged and deflected the spells sent his way, blood boiling with adrenaline and anger and just what the fuck did they think they were doing in his his sister's house? He irritably threw a stunning hex at the scruffy bloke with the wand just in time to feel a pair of arms from behind him. Reflexively, Fabian elbowed and shoved to get away, squirming and cutting the air with a slashing hex. His hands were cold. Deadly so. Like there was no life in him at all. It was only then that it really registered in his mind that he was fighting a vampire and a... a werewolf? Could they do magic? Fucking hell. Henry pouted. His spells had failed, well that was fucking spectacular. After emitting a loud growl of frustration, he cast another Protego (honestly, was he just going to fucking defend himself? That was not the way to win a duel--), which successfully deflected whatever spell was sent his way. The vampire chap was... he didn't even know what he was doing, but it seemed to distract the wizard, and so he sent a Petrificus Totalus straight at him before feeling the need to go hide behind something. They were duelling in a small space and while his reflexes were great, there was no chances to be taken here. Taking the chance, he dashed over to the door frame and hid behind it. As he did so, he wondered just what vampires could do and if it was okay for the man to physically attack Fabian. Shrugging inwardly, Henry's face lit up as he cast an Incendio. Fire was pretty. Charles struggled with the dark-haired bloke trying to subdue him before Fabian could properly aim a curse at him. When Charles thought that he had nearly achieved the goal, a spell cut right through his arm. Fucking bastard, that really hurt! Now Charles allowed the residual human portion of his psyche to take over and attempted to smash his fist into Fabian's ribs and side a few times. Humans had some weak spots that Charles had learned of over the years. Maybe he could paralyze him for a bit and suck the idiot's blood. Charles could only imagine how much that would piss the man off if his response time slowed to a crawl. Leaping high into the air to avoid the latest spell by Henry, Charles aimed to land on Fabian's head this time. Maybe he could time it just right and achieve the mixing of blood that always gave a vampire more energy. Just as he considered that possibility, fire erupted from Henry's wand and rushed towards the two men. "Fucking idiot," Charles screamed in agony as the fire singed his feet before he could avoid the flames. That wolf evidently had no idea what he had just done. Charles swore he'd have a conversation with Fenrir about the need for everyone to understand each other's weaknesses before something like that happened again. Shooting an evil glance at Henry that he hoped the wolf would see in the fiery room, Charles jumped at Fabian from the corner yet again. Fabian decided he really, really didn't enjoy having his attention split between two of these fuckers. He only barely got out of the way as the body bind, really by pure luck rather than any real intention. And before he could react beyond that, there were blows landing against his ribs and it felt like a bloody sucker punch for as prepared for it as Fabian was. The air rushed out of his lungs and then it was just hot. The only rush of satisfaction he felt was that the fucking vampire he was fighting seemed to be irritated at it too. The fire singed his arm and lit his shirt and it was a damn good thing Fabian knew a few things about fire and could pretty much just put himself out with a flick of his wand. That didn't do much for the burn of course, but at least he wasn't going to go up in flames. He had exactly enough time to throw a blasting hex and a stunning spell at the werewolf before that damn fucking vampire was on him again. He shoved and pushed, trying to shove him toward the fire in the room, since he obviously hadn't it liked it much before. Merlin, what a clusterfuck. And he didn't even know where Charlie had gone. Great. From behind the door frame, Henry was giggling into his burnt palm. It hurt a lot, and he'd wanted to make this stupid interfering man feel what it was like to have nasty strong burns on your body, but it seemed that he had gotten the vampire too. His head popped out from the door frame, looked at the two, before his giggles transformed into a harsh laugh. Just because he was his partner didn't mean Henry actually gave two squirts of piss about him. Being a muggle-born, he had grown up with tales of a vampire/werewolf rivalry and while it didn't seem to be in effect in Fenrir's dysfunctional pack, he put that down to the need for more man-power and putting things like this behind them for whatever they were doing. His head was very speedily brought back to the safety of the wall as he saw spells coming his way once more. With an impact that shook the wall, Henry presumed a blasting curse, and his suspicions were correct when a second later, the wall crumbled. The other hex that had been sent also hit the wall, and served as its last nail in the coffin. He tried to move out of the way of the falling bits, which he managed for the most part, but had his foot nicely squashed. Henry bit his lip and tried to remain calm as his hands scrambled to remove the debris. While in the midst of muttering various curses and "ow ow ow ow"s, he thought he'd better cast a spell before he was mince meat, and sent a Locomotor Mortis at Fabian which was followed by a bunch of ropes flying towards him. Presuming that one of them had to hit its target, the young werewolf shot Avifors at the bits of debris on him and tried to stand back up. Charles hated the fucking fire and couldn't wait to subdue Fabian so that he might take a round out of this idiotic young wolf who seemed to find his injuries hilarious. Finding himself prodded towards the heat source, he decided to throw caution to the wind and bit Fabian's neck with his fangs. Sweet Dracula! Fabian's blood fuelled him more than most blood ever had. This kid was a true fighter. The resulting adrenaline rush caused him to attack the bloke with his cold fists. Punching towards his chest and his head this time, Charles truly hoped to bring down the ultimate knockout punch on this hotheaded young man. It was truly a pity that Fabian had so much resolve in his system because Charles sensed that he would make a very powerful vampire if turned. Pity that. He turned his full attention on sucking the man's blood, rather hoping that he would not get hit by another idiotic curse by the wolf with the newly crushed foot. Charles smirked at the thought of the wolf's agony as he continued to drink the blood. Ropes wound around Fabian's legs, distracted as he was by the vampire. He would have tripped except that the vampire had a rather strong hold on him now and before he could raise his wand to rid himself of the ropes, a sharp pain drove into his neck and suddenly, Fabian couldn't breath. His very veins constricted painfully and his chest felt tight. Everything slowed down, except for his heart, which seemed to be struggling against the suction, spastic and uneven. Blows landed against him and Fabian wasn't sure he could feel them, so consumed by getting his blood sucked out of his neck that he wasn't really that interested in physical pain behind what was already occurring in his body. It was only when, out of the corner of his eye, that he saw bright red hair - Charlie - that he remembered that he couldn't just let himself lose. Because his nephew would be next. With a massive amount of effort, Fabian pushed his wand between himself and the vampire and very nearly choked the word: "Confringo." Henry pulled himself up to a standing stance and tried to shift the pressure of his body weight onto his injured foot. Apparently, this wasn't a very bright idea. He sucked his breath between his teeth while his eyes flittered to the ceiling in exasperation. Stupid low-class wizards and their stupid wards and their stupid prejudices and their stupid low quality walls. He was surprised the house didn't bloody give up what with all of these children that he imagined ran about it. He tried to imagine himself running about this house as a boy, but he couldn't. He then focused his attention on the troublesome twosome over the other side of the room. They seemed to be enjoying themselves and Henry felt like a third wheel and it really wasn't a nice feeling, he thought. He wanted to do something but the silly vampire wouldn't move out of the way, acting selfishly. Predicting his age, Henry was quite affronted that he should not choose to indulge the young ones. Henry was bored and restricted in his usage of spells - the ones he had in mind would most definitely hit the vampire who really was too pre-occupied with vile blood sucking to bother taking note of the time and place. They just had to get the kid. Why was that so hard to understand and carry through? Following the intruder's gaze, there it was. The child. Here's the thing: could he kill a child? Murder a child? It had all sounded so easy beforehand, but watching it and watching the lengths that this man would go to protect it... It saddened him, irritated him, angered him, made him envious and regretful and all of those other lovely emotions all over again. It was die and be at rest forever, having had a good life, be bitten and live for God only knew how long, or so many other alternatives that Henry didn't have time to go through thoroughly. He moved forward. Alas, the problem with putting all your attention on one thing - sucking blood - was that a single curse could jar one loose and put a bloke in a very bad spot. Fabian's confringo, which came off half-powered, exploded towards Charles and blasted him across the room. Crouching behind the bed, Charles began to massage his fangs that had been ripped out of Fabian's neck so unceremoniously. The pain in his mouth proved to be significant enough that he had ceased caring about what else was going on in the room. Fabian tripped, fell with a grunt. Blood trickled down the side of his neck, but that wasn't quite the worst of his problems right now. Legs. Right. Had to get up. He cast a slashing hex to get rid of the ropes, wincing as he misaimed and cut his leg in the process. Great. But at least he could kick the ropes off. It was only then that he saw the other piece of shit monster heading for his nephew and he - with more effort than he liked - flicked his wand at him, muttering "Impedimenta" and then a blasting hex and then he just had to get up because this fighting from the floor thing wasn't working out. Fabian pushed himself up, using dresser handles to pull himself back to his feet, shaky as they were. Charlie darted behind him and Fabian didn't wait. He just hoped to fuck he didn't splinch. With one more irritated slashing hex at the scruffy young man, Fabian clamped his hand down on Charlie's upper arm and apparated with a pop. [GIDEON VS REYES/MALIFICIENT] It was taking a supreme amount of effort not to burst into hysterical giggles as they mounted the stairs, peering eagerly around the much-taller figures around her. The smell of children was overwhelming, like stepping into some sort of sweets shop, and the urge to run helter skelter through the place was making her itchy with anticipation. She was hardly one for physical exertion, but she smelled baby! up the stairs, and she scurried as quickly as her short legs would take her, into the room that smelled like the most delectable of delicacies. There was a crib - a crib! - and a baby - a baby! - inside of it, and Malificient could no longer hold in her wheezy laugh as she scurried over towards it, clawed hands already reaching out in anticipation. Dinner! Oh, and the sweetest of kinds! She nearly knocked the crib over in her haste, and she woke up the small bundle within the crib, which opened it's eyes, blinked sleepily, took one look at what was looming over it in the darkness, and began to scream bloody murder. She was startled and clasped her hands to her ears, but then laughed in delight and plucked the thing right out of the crib, holding it up under it's chubby little arms to dangle it in front of her face. "Is fat!" she exclaimed excitedly, wobbling the tiny meal side-to-side with a gleeful laugh. Fat arms and legs and stomach and cheeks and everything! She grinned, revealing her sharp teeth, and brought the succulent baby closer for a little nibble of it's fat thigh. The baby screamed louder still, and Malificient shrieked out a laugh in delight, teeth snapping at a foot that just nearly kicked out of the way. Fun with food! Gideon had been quick on Fabian's heels, though he hadn't been fortunate enough to be wearing jeans like his brother. He stood outside his sister's home in a pair of pajama pants and a Quidditch jersey but his wand was at the ready and he gave his brother a nod that said a million things, including 'be careful' and 'I'll see you when we've kicked their asses'. The doorway was already open and the twins charged into the Burrow to save their family. Gideon wasn't even sure how he'd climbed the stairs so quickly, probably taking three at a time, but he entered the bedroom closest to where he stood and the blood drained from his face as he saw Ron screaming and dangling from the clutches of the evil looking woman. "Missed out on dinner, did ya? I bet he's tasty but I've got years on him." He held his wand out and patted his thigh with his free hand. "I bet I taste much better and I'm a bit more than a little snack, hmm?" Reyes didn't much care for going after the children. Having new additions to the pack would certainly be wonderful, but she'd much rather face off with a fully-grown wizard, never mind that she wouldn't last in a duel. She never intended to give one of them enough room to hit her with their damn curses anyhow. Her eyes followed one of the men who'd arrived rather suddenly as he bolted up the stairs. A grin crossed her face and, watching her back, she crept up the stairs behind him. "Is that an invitation?" she remarked, her Spanish accent apparent. She stood close behind him, just a short pounce away from what promised to be a tasty treat. The hag could have the baby. Reyes wanted a piece of this wizard. Malificient growled, teeth snapping at the man who dared interrupt her from her delicious snack. She was angry, yes, but he was a wizard, with a wand, and the likelihood that he could hurt he was very high. Didn't mean she was going to drop the baby and run, oh no! not when it was in her gnarled hands, ripe for the eating. "Not fat enough," she snapped, jowls quivering. Besides, the man didn't smell right, not as deliciously tempting as the fat baby dangling so enticingly so close to her face. She turned to hold the child out in front of her, using him as a shield of sorts, knowingly dimly that the man wouldn't want to hurt the baby, no no, they all wanted the baby very, very much didn't they. She went in for another bite but the panicked baby kicked her right in the eye, and she yelped a bit, nearly dropping it in her confusion, but she righted the both of them and went in for another bite. Gideon had already thought up a way to get Ron away from the hag without harming him but his plan was quickly nixed when he heard the accented voice behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the woman and he was suddenly very aware of what a terrible situation he was in. He was sandwiched between a baby eating hag and a human eating werewolf so it seemed both he and Ron were in a bad spot. His wand was gripped tightly in his hand and he spun so that he was back to Ron's closet with a creature on both his left and right. The hag was at the crib and the newcomer near the door so Gideon made a quick movement and grabbed a rubber ball from Ron's dresser. For a moment he wondered what an infant needed a rubber ball for but his mind snapped back and he chucked the ball at the hag's head and then thrust his wand towards Reyes. "Confringo! Reyes rolled to dodge the curse, hissing. Damned wizards and their magic. She didn't realize just what he'd cast until the wall behind her exploded. She swore in Spanish and drew her hunting knife from its sheath at her belt. "That wasn't very nice," she scolded, her eyes flickering briefly to the hag. Honestly, she only cared to keep the hag from injury. She was not as comfortable considering other creatures a part of the pack as Fenrir was, but they still had to look out for each other. Reyes turned her eyes back to the wizard, prepared herself, and leapt in his direction, holding the knife carefully close to her so as not to injure herself or to slice the wizard in mid-air. She preferred to use that weapon more precisely, and at a closer range. She just had to be careful to avoid that stupid wand. Malificient blinked when the ball was chucked at her head, staring at it coming towards her instead of moving. She grunted stupidly when it collided with her forehead, bouncing off across the room with the force of the collision. She was beyond confused, having expected something more like that exploding thing that the wizard had thrown at the wolf, but she wasn't about to complain. Scurrying out of the inevitable fray, she still had a grip on the baby, keeping him dangling in the air; he was screaming and squirming still, and as always she was startled by how loud it was. All the more reason to eat him and enjoy it! She snapped again, and while her teeth grazed the child's heel she had to scuttle away yet again as the wolf leapt in the air, not liking her odds in that equation. "Mine!" she declared to no one in general, not liking the idea of this not ending well in her favour. Gideon was not a fan of this whole outnumbered thing and he was having a hard time splitting his attention between the two different threats. He had no problem when it came to playing Quidditch but apparently when his own life and the life of his nephew were at stake he became a failure at focusing. It was a bit of a problem. Gideon was about to fire off another blasting hex at Reyes but was caught off-guard when she launched herself at him and he had no time to retaliate so he threw himself against the wall in hopes to avoid collision. Reyes grinned as she landed neatly, within range of the wizard. She did not intend to give him any time to send another hex at her. The best thing would be to incapacitate him as quickly as possible, and if there was time later, she could have some fun. She slashed at his wand arm first, feinted a strike at his chest, and came in low to plunge her knife into his leg. There was something very satisfying about feeling his blood pour onto her hand. She hoped to get more of it before the fight was over. There was entirely too much commotion for Malificient's liking, and she was growing agitated as the wolf and the wizard fought, especially when the smell of blood began filling the room. She had a squirming human child in her hands, the wolf and the man were busy, and she wanted her meal! Scurrying as much as she was able, she moved around the crib and into the corner, dragging the crib with her as a makeshift barricade. "Mine," she said again, rather triumphantly, and she bit into the baby's fat upper thigh, spitting out a bit of fabric before she enjoyed the taste of warm, succulent flesh in her mouth. She didn't bite too deeply, oh no, she'd learned her lesson before; biting too much in a child this small usually killed the thing, and she didn't like a cold meal, no no she did not. At her bite Ron screamed shrilly, a sound that almost made her drop him (again), and began thrashing rather admirably in her hands. Ah, a wriggly one - they were always the most satisfying. Gideon had experienced quite a bit of pain in his life, most if it coming after he joined the Order, but he had never been stabbed before. Well, there was that one time Fabian attacked him with a quill but that was more of a jab. The point was that he had a knife sticking out of his leg and that was something new he could add to his list of experiences, not that he was happy about it. He glanced down at his thigh and almost vomited at the sight. Was all of that blood his? It had to be, seeing as how she was unhurt, and suddenly his new plan was not to fight but to runaway. His only concern was Ron's safety. New plan. Stun werewolf, distract hag, grab Ron, and get the hell out. Reye's had taken a swipe at his arm but missed and he clutched his wand with determination, shoving it at the wolf. Stupefy!" Reyes had gotten a bit distracted with all the blood on her hands. She closed her hand around the hilt of the knife, not caring how she was staining it. She'd have plenty of time to wipe it clean later. She knew the wizard still held his wand, but she didn't expect him to be thinking clearly enough to send another spell at her so soon. She loosened her hold on the knife, backing away from the wand, forgetting for the moment that it was not a close range weapon. She swore, loudly, there was a flash of red light, and she was unconscious. Oh, but she was going to be pissed when she came to. Malificient ignored the fight going on around her, feeling (rather ridiculously) quite safe with the crib acting as a divider between her and the baby and the scuffle (or lack thereof, as the wolf had just... something.) She chewed the rest of her bite, torn between wanting to savour the warm flesh and blood, and wanting to gobble the rest of the still screaming (did they ever stop?) child. She lapped at the blood pouring down the child's leg to wash down the bite, and then went in for another one. One could never have too much baby! Gideon felt as if things were happening is slow motion but Reyes was down and he was one step closer to getting the hell out of there. He was still pressed against the wall, ignoring his injury, and he glanced across the room at Malificient. There was a mouth sized hole in Ron's pajama bottoms and then the hag licked blood away from the baby's leg and Gideon felt sick. He pushed himself away from the wall and put his bad leg out first, which was a bad idea. The floor was soaked with his blood and he slipped and flailed awkwardly while managing to stay on his feet. His staggering brought him closer to the crib and he held his wand at Malificient. He gripped the side of the crib with the other and leaned over the bed with a glare. "Hand the baby over or I'll kill you." He glanced at the werewolf. "That would make two in one night." Hopefully she'd buy it. Malificient growled low in her throat, but her eyes were trained on the wand; she knew full well that wands could kill - it seemed he'd killed the wolf - and while she very much wanted the baby in her arms, she did not want to die. Not now. Not ever, particularly, but certainly not now. She snapped her teeth but she never took her eyes off the wand, afraid of what it could do to her. She needed Fenrir - he always knew what to do, and he'd keep the man from hurting her. Or worse. "Mine," she whined again, but she didn't want to push it. The only idea that came to mind was to throw the child at him, to make the wizard's attention go elsewhere, so she could get out of the room, find Fenrir and get her meal back. That was brilliant. Genius! And they said she wasn't smart. With a smirk she bodily tossed the baby up in the air, then pushed herself back up and shoved at the crib, pushing it aside with her bulk. Gideon moved with the crib as it slammed into his hips but his attention was on Ron, who was falling fast and would surely hit the floor. Gideon couldn't reach across the crib to where Ron would eventually crash and he pointed his wand at the child. "Accio, Ron!" The small redhead flew into his arms and looked thrilled to be there. Gideon was wondering why he hadn't thought of that earlier. He didn't waste anymore time and with a loud crack both Gideon and Ron were gone, leaving the boy's room in a state of disarray. Well this was just fucking great. Fenrir picked himself up from the floor, hurting and angry and decidedly alone in the corridor. His leg hurt and his chest was burnt and blistering and though he'd at least stopped bleeding, being gouged still hurt. Even a wolf. He listened to the diminished noise in the rest of the house. He could smell his companions in the building. And... something else. He snapped in his head in the direction of the somewhat foreign smell and limped toward it. Up a flight of stairs... and he paused at the landing. The door here was closed and there was no sound from behind it. But this was where the smell stopped and Fenrir twisted the knob and pushed it open slowly. It appeared empty at first and if it weren't for his nose, he'd have left. But he took several steps into the room and then paused by the bed. The blankets were thrown aside, obviously slept in tonight and, as he passed a bloody hand over the sheets, were even still warm. Under the bed, something moved. Fenrir dropped to a knee and reached under the bed. His giant of a fist clamped down around a leg and he tugged. A scream issued from under the mattress and there were tiny feet kicking at his fingers. Fenrir didn't even feel them. Effortlessly, he pulled out a screaming, crying red-haired child. He held him up by his ankle, letting him thrash in the air for a moment. What would be better? Killing him here or... A smirk spread across Fenrir's lips and he righted the little boy. Percy hurriedly picked up his glasses and cowered. "Don't be afraid," Fenrir very nearly purred. "I take care of my puppies." |