tabitha pryce is a cougar. (savaged) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-08-16 22:18:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ! [1979-08] august, aaron pryce, alastor gumboil, amycus carrow, tabitha pryce |
Who: Tabitha Pryce, Aaron Pryce, Alastor Gumboil, & NPC!Amycus Carrow.
Where: Screechsnap Square in Hogsmeade.
What: Attacked by two werewolves, the hitwizards attempt to fight them off... and Alastor Gumboil learns just how quickly one's life can be changed.
When: 16 August 1979, late at night.
Rating: R
Status: Complete
A very long week of fights and riots behind him put Alastor's routine patrols on a bit of a back burner. Lynching. For fuck's sake. Still, it was the full moon, and if there was ever a time for him to be taking a curfew patrol, it was tonight. His experience with werewolves, while limited, were still more than most of the rest of the office had had to deal with. But he was tired, worried and vaguely sore from dealing with mad civilians for the past two days. Distracted and not quite focused, he was glad that this was just a routine curfew patrol. At least he hoped. But he was of enough mind to hear something riffling through a bin, and he immediately stopped in his tracks, turning to Amycus Carrow beside him. "Doubt it's anything to worry about. Go on then, you take care of it. Nearly done with this training business anyway. I'll be close by in case there's trouble." The younger man nodded and crept quietly and rather professionally through the shadows. Al watched from a distance, just out of sight, but positioned so he could see. Just in case. From further down the alley, there was a yelp and a startled growl, and a pale golden canine shape cringed back in the shadows as Amycus approached. Not that Aaron was really at all afraid. But they had this down to an art, him and Tabby, and he looked more like a domesticated dog than her, with his colouring. Normally, Al would have thought nothing of the growl from down the alley. But tonight was the full moon. He moved quickly and quietly back into the open, wand raised... until he saw what appeared to be a simple dog. Visibly he relaxed and lowered his wand. "I'm pretty sure it's illegal to transfigure people out after curfew, Carrow. It's only a misdemeanour," he teased, a smirk crossing his face. Tabitha had recognised the scent as soon as she and Aaron had drawn in close enough to the hitwizards; she knew, immediately, this was the same person who had killed the pup during the last full moon's attack. The thought that he was so close sent her into a rage; she wanted to kill him, just as she had desired to do so all month. She had to be patient, though; she watched silently as Aaron played the decoy while she hid in the midst of some bushes. She paid no mind to the other hitwizard with Al -- he wasn't her target tonight, so long as he stayed out of her way. When she noticed the pair of them distracted by Aaron, she made her entrance, stalking quietly out from her hiding place towards their prey. While her mate might have been able to fool them with his pelt, there was no mistaking what Tabitha was, and she broke out into a run as she got closer. She used the momentum of her speed to leap at Al's back, her jaws open eagerly to sink into his flesh. Al hadn't noticed anything horribly out of the ordinary until there was the unmistakable sound of paws pounding against the ground behind him. And by then, he had only enough time to think Shit, and make a quarter turn before the animal that was Tabitha Pryce was on his back, claws digging through the fabric of his robes and into his back. "No, you bastard..." he grunted getting a hand up to push her jaws away from him whilst still struggling to stay upright under her weight. Too close for a Blasting Curse, and he couldn't get his damn arm around to aim properly. He fired anyway, stunners over his shoulder in any attempt to get her off. They all missed their mark (unsurprisingly) and he simply had to focus on keeping her teeth off of him, which was also getting increasingly difficult as claws dug deeper into the skin, sending ripples of pain through his body. Where the hell was Amycus? Amycus, unfortunately, was not on the all-right-to-kill list; they had to take him out without killing him or wounding him too badly. Aaron gave a growl of distaste and launched himself at the pureblood, sending him back against the wall with a dull thud, the back of his head impacting with the brickwork. That should keep him down and out of the fight, so he wouldn't have to decide between keeping his cover and 'defending' his coworker, or fighting alongside the werewolves. With the complication out of the way, Aaron turned his attention to the target he was allowed to kill. He wanted blood tonight, the hot rush of blood through his senses, and he let himself give way to the wolf, instinct taking over. He was smaller, in lupine form, than Tabby, more agile; dropping low to the ground, he went for Al's legs, jaws snapping. There were all sorts of interesting tendons in the backs of the thighs and calves and ankles. Two? Oh, for fuck's sake! Al had no time to see what had happened to Amycus, all his concentration on Tabby and keeping her jaws off of him. He could only vaguely hope that the trainee was all right. But his worries turned suddenly selfish when the gold-coloured canine, so foolishly thought to be a dog, turned out to be very much not. He finally recognised Aaron for what he was and this was suddenly a very bad situation. Still staggering under the weight of Tabby, Al had no agility and Aaron was faster than him. And behind him. Al took a step forward in any attempt to get out of the way of those teeth, whipping his wand around and casting another stunner. It was at Aaron this time, his attention divided between the two of them for a moment. Tabitha tore her claws down Al's back, through fabric and flesh as blood swelled up from the wounds, soaking into her prey's robes. Her jaws snapped in the air, trying to catch his shoulder or his arm or anything she could sink her fangs into, teeth clicking together each time she missed. When Al cast another spell, the movement of his arm caught her attention enough to slash it with her claws and inadvertently bringing her muzzle closer to his shoulder. She took that opportunity to bite down hard, blood flooding into her mouth and over her tongue, the coppery taste only comparable to something euphoric. She bit down as hard as she could, shaking her head viciously in attempt to throw the man off balance. His back burned with every stab of her claws, feeling the sharp points not just tear into his skin but into the muscle itself, gouging and slashing away. And suddenly Alastor was scared. This wasn't just a patrol gone horribly wrong. It had quickly turned into a fight for his life and he realised that he needed to find a way out, or else he was going to lose. And he had to do it fast. It was just then that he felt the full force of jaws on his shoulder. It simply felt like pressure at first. Just immense pressure on his shoulder. And then all at once, pain in a torrential wave, blinding his senses. And that, coupled with the weight of the wolf on him and the the vigorous shakes, sent him crashing to the ground, screaming. He forgot about his wand, forgot about magic, and the instinct to simply survive completely took over. He reached back and latched onto whatever fur he could reach, tugging and pulling with all the strength he could muster and finally got a hold of what felt like an ear. He twisted and yanked, trying to get her to detach from him. Snarling, Aaron leapt to his mate's defense. He lunged and grasped Al's arm in his jaws, bringing them down hard and yanking to get him to let go of Tabby. Blood flooded his senses, washing away reason, and he shook his head sharply, fangs gouging along Al's arm, and then lifted his head to howl. Alastor kicked out, aiming for Aaron's head in some attempt to perhaps incapacitate at least one of them for a moment or two. He wondered absently, if that howl was going to bring more, and if there were more, how many, and if it was lots, how quick it would be. His blood soaked robes, quickly being torn to shreds, felt warm and damp against him, sticking to his skin. He'd never smelt his own blood before. Tabitha was forced to let go of Al's shoulder at the sharp pain from having her ear yanked, a high pitched yelp escaping from her as instincts kicked in and she immediately trying to get away from the painful grip. She whined pitifully as the soft skin of her ear was tugged more as she herself tried to pull away frantically, slipping out of his grip and backing up a short distance, teeth bared and growling at the fallen man. Oh, he would pay for that; she was thankful for her mate's help, but she didn't even pause to give Aaron a quick nuzzle, instead leaping upon Al once again while he was still down, sinking her teeth into his side and biting down several times, over and over again -- her goal wasn't just to try and kill him, now. If he by chance managed to escape from them, Tabitha wanted to make sure he would remember this encounter for the rest of his life -- she wanted to infect him with their curse, the wonderful gift that people so feared. Again, Al went for her ears, one hand scrambling to catch hold of them, the other bludgeoning at her head. Every new bite tore another cry from his throat as chunks of his very being were ripped mercilessly from him. The intense pain along his side was making any and all movement difficult, the muscles punctured and torn with jaws that contained incredible strength. His adrenaline had thus far kept him up, but he could almost feel his body approaching some sort of breaking point where his strength would most certainly fade. As he attempt to roll away, curl up, somehow protect himself, he wondered if, when that point was reached, if things would possibly simply go numb. If maybe the nerves screaming for relief would simply stop. Al's foot hit the side of Aaron's head, and Aaron went sprawling for a moment, yelping. Scrambling back to his feet, he shook his head to clear it and leapt again, landing on Al's legs and raking his claws down them, bending his head to join Tabby in biting as many places as he could. That sharp, stabbing pain struck again when Al tugged on Tabitha's ears, and she yelped loudly, releasing him and shaking her head to get out of his grip, backing away once more. This wouldn't do at all -- she snarled, angry that the man kept pulling on her ears when she got too close, and decided she would have to fix this little problem. When she lunged at him once again, this time she aimed for his hands. Too much. It was just too much. The sheer amount of pain and blood was blinding. He couldn't properly scream any more, and what was the point? No one could hear him. It was after curfew. Alastor's world was pain piled on top of pain, teeth and claws digging deep into his body. He wondered if the actual process of dying hurt. If the death of the body was as painful as this, or possibly more. Who was he leaving behind, who would miss him? His family. And Elle... of course Elle. No. That wasn't fair. He couldn't leave her. He'd promised he wouldn't. And with that singular thought attached to his mind, that one thing to hold onto, Al kicked up at Aaron, using every ounce of strength he could possibly find in his battered body to throw the damn monster off of him. It was a second and only a second, but it was all he needed.Wand, wand... wand...wand! His fingers closed around the piece of wood he'd dropped and he half growled "Incendio!" Flames shot out of his wand, aimed directly at the pair of werewolves. It was a last ditch effort and Al knew it. But it was the first spell to come to his head though, and he hoped to all that was good left in the world that it would save him. The flames caught Aaron's fur, and he leapt back, letting out a panicked, high-pitched yelp. Man or wolf, fire was something to be instinctively feared, and even half lost to the wolf as he was, he wasn't going to keep fighting with the threat of more fire. The stink of burnt hair hung in the air as he stayed back, panting and whining softly; the flames had seared a long swathe down his side, and while he'd heal faster than normal humans, it still hurt. Unfortunately (for Tabitha, anyway), she was not spared from the flames either, feeling the heat of it catching along the fur of one of her front legs and down her side. The blast had gone between them, getting them on either side of the searing fire. She whined loudly, quickly retreating away from the man because this was far more painful, far more dangerous than the pulls on her ears. Tabitha's ears were pressed meekly back against her head, tail tucked between her legs while she snarled in warning for the wizard not to try and get close to her. She might be done making advances on him, but she wasn't about to let her guard down quite yet, not until she was sure both she and her mate were safe. She favoured her injured paw as she quickly went to join Aaron at his side so they could retreat together. Al kept on them, not noticing how much his hand was shaking as he struggled to climb to his feet. He didn't quite make it, tripping on tattered robes and falling back down. "Incendio!" he said again, wanting to head off any attempts at them coming after him while he was still trying to get up. His aim was probably off, but at this point he just wanted them to get away. Merlin, what about Amycus? Still in the alley, assuming he hadn't been attacked. But he didn't dare look just now, not while they were still right in front of him. More flames flared up, catching in the paper rubbish between the wolves and the wizards, and Aaron whined, ears flat to his head as he took another few steps back, shying away from the fire. Once Tabby was with him, he gave her a quick nuzzle to the neck, avoiding her burns, and snarled once more at the wizard before turning to make their retreat. They were far from beaten in the long run -- burns healed, after all, and it wasn't like he'd got them with silver -- but for now, for this battle, retreat was the wiser option. Tabitha returned the nuzzle with a small lick of the fur on his shoulder, and she growled, wanting to get away from the fire as quickly as possible. They were done here, and she nudged Aaron with her nose, the pair of them fleeing from the scene. He watched them turn tail and run, panting as he dared to believe that it was over and that he was still alive. Still, Al had no intention of sticking around to see if they were coming back. He hissed in pain as he pushed himself up to his feet. No luck. He got two shaky steps, stumbled and groaned as he fell again, his feet tangling underneath him. He simply laid there for a minute, blinking as he tried to clear his vision and get a full breath again. After a moment, Al ran a shaking hand across his chest and stomach, feeling at the damage. Mostly it just felt warm and slippery with blood, fingers running over gouges and slashes from teeth and claws... at least until he got to his side. And there was an entire chunk missing from him, pouring blood down his stomach. He clenched his jaw and whimpered softly. He had to get the fuck out of here. After a moment of hesitation, he placed his hand over the gaping hole in a half-hearted attempt to stop - or at least slow - the bleeding. But fucked if he wasn't light-headed, his vision only getting less and less focused as the seconds ticked by. His body protested every movement, crying for relief, for the hurt to just stop. Walking wasn't really working out for him. So he crawled slowly, leaving a heavy blood trail behind him and whimpering pathetically whenever he had to put pressure on his mangled shoulder. It felt like miles, his strength draining out of him with every movement. In reality, he had only been twenty feet from the collapsed trainee the entire time. By the time he reached Amycus, Alastor's vision was dim and patchy and he wasn't sure what he could and couldn't feel any more. He gathered up whatever remaining strength he had, focusing every ounce of concentration he still had on St Mungo's (because what great irony it would be if he managed to splinch himself). They disappeared from the alley with a pop! and the last thing Al remembered before simply passing out was a gasp from somewhere in the room, a cry for help and the cool feel of tile floor on his face. |