RP Thread - Battle at the Commune Who: Fenrir, Agnes, Marlene, Regulus, Stubby, James, Fabian When: Friday 28 March, night What: Battle of the commune PART 1 Where: Soho, London
Feel free to comment here with additional parts and I will add them in
Sorry this is split up but the post is too large, ha!
Battle Part 1
I. FENRIR LEADS ATTACK
Fenrir/Agnes/Stubby
Stubby, weed, and a good dinner were Agnes's ideal Friday night - or at least while she was still feeling the aftermath of James's birthday party. It probably ought to have occurred to her to be a bit worried at the stillness of the night in light of the uproar caused by resistance radio - but who ever said she was the most attuned to the politics of revenge? So, instead of being utterly on her fucking guard, Agnes was hanging out in the kitchen of her commune, skinning a joint and listening to her Gram yack on about this or that (to which she smiled and nodded and enjoyed the bliss of being blitzed out of her mind). The rest of the neighborhood was either hanging out in her Da's pub or doing whatever else a bunch of hippies did on a Friday night, and there wasn't even the slightest hint that something was about to go terribly, terribly wrong.
"Gram can ya pass the chips," Agnes waved over at the stove, where potatoes were bubbling nicely in a bit of oil. She was starving.
Fenrir crept around the building that housed this 'commune' Bellatrix had chosen for their retaliation for Rodolphus' arrest. Fenrir had been eager to be involved. He got along relatively well with Rodolphus and the idea of the Ministry arresting him on the say-so of some two-bit radio program annoyed him. They should have more respect and if people wanted to make accusations, they should do so to people's faces like real men, not behind their backs like cowards.
He paused in front of the back door and grinned to himself, pulling out his wand as he did so. He could smell the other Death Eaters who were also part of the attack and knew they were waiting for him to make his entrance. Bellatrix had moved up on his list of people who met with his approval by allowing him to lead this attack. At least she knew his value in this sort of undertaking and his entrance would give the others the opportunity to take advantage of the kind of chaos on he could create.
Fenrir braced himself then gave a silent count to three before kicking the door down in one sharp move. He charged through the door with a howl that nearly matched the hunting call of his werewolf form and let loose a blasting curse towards the nearest large object, not really caring what it hit, just wanting to add to the noise and chaos on his entry.
Shock splintered through Agnes as screams erupted from the commune and the door went splintering open, followed by a howling madman who seemed intent upon destruction; it crossed most peoples' minds that he was from the government, out to ruin their perfect communal life - but it didn't take Agnes that long to realize it was more than just some ministry raid to ensure they were meeting fire marshal's standards. This was worse. This was bad. This was very fucking bad.
"GET THE FUCK OUT," she screamed down through the open hole of the ceiling, abandoning her chair, and everything on it, to escape the second floor for the first one - but people were panicking, running in all directions. She ignored her grandmother's yells and her neighbors screaming, heart pounding too hard to even notice if Stubby was on her tail. Her wand was out and as she leapt from the staircase to the ground floor, ducking to avoid a hex that came sailing from one of the floors above at Fenrir (and shoving some utterly stoned idiot out of her way as she sobbed uncontrollably), she shoved her wand out in front of her and cast a stunning spell. Death Eater. It was all she could think. They'd come and they meant to destroy. FUCK.
Fenrir laughed at the screams that suddenly erupted at his entrance and that of the other Death Eaters. He could smell the sickly-sweet stench of weed in the air that only made him laugh harder at the fools who lived here and thought they were safe simply because they were peaceful. They would learn differently tonight. The drugs would make them confused and slow to react. It was just a shame he wasn't in wolf form tonight. He could make a killing here.
He ducked a sudden stunning spell and grinned at the woman who had suddenly appeared on the ground floor, revealing his sharpened teeth. It was always fun when his prey came to him. He howled again and raised his wand, casting a binding spell at the woman. He preferred his prey alert when he mauled them.
Agnes was mid-shield when the spell hit, and though she was quick, she wasn't quick enough, and it caught her at the ankle; as she tried to escape she only fell, small frame crashing into the floor with the impact of her desperation to avoid the man. He was large, and cruel, and she could see it etched into his every feature - but she wasn't going to let that scare her into inaction.
Even on her back, she at least had a clear view of him, and sent two hexes - one right after the other - at him. Drugs had mellowed her reactions, softened her skill, but she was alert enough to point, aim, and cast - and it was all she had protecting her. She could hear the sounds of spells raining down from above - red and gold and purple sparks crashing into the floor, into chairs. She prayed one would hit him.
Fenrir swore when the hexes came flying at him and he dove for the floor, turning it into a roll that took him to one side of the woman. He let the momentum of the roll take him back up onto his feet then had to throw himself to the side again when a curse came thundering down from above. He snarled a few obscenities under his breath as he whipped around to find the woman.
As soon as he saw her, he shoved his wand into his robes and launched himself at her again. He needed to close in with her and slap her wand out of her hand. Most witches and wizards had the advantage over him when it came to magic but if could disarm them and close in, the advantage swung most emphatically in his direction and right now, he wanted that advantage.
Agnes worked to tear her foot free of the bind, and she'd only just magicked the bugger off when a bloody big man was descending upon her, all muscle and hair and scowls. She wasn't stupid enough to think she could handle being barreled into by the oaf, and threw herself out of his way, a sharp gasp catching in her throat, making it impossible to cast anything of consequence (nonverbal spells just didn't seem to hit as hard when she used them). A weak sort of orange light spilled away from her and toward Fenrir, but she knew better than to hope it could help, scrambling off the floor and lurching toward a char, a stool - anything she could use to keep him away a little longer.
What she found was a glass ashtray, and she didn't think twice before lobbing it at him, but her entire body was trembling and her breath coming in pants. This is what it was like to be truly afraid - to be truly staring death in the face. It made her angry.
Fenrir growled when the woman evaded him then shrugged off the orange light that hit him. It sent an odd buzzing sensation through him but its effects were minimal and he ignored it. It occurred to him that since she was so small she was going to be more agile than him and he needed to close in fast and pin her down somehow. He doubted she could get any blows in that would actually hurt him. He'd met small women who were strong but nearly all of them had been werewolves so he didn't expect that sort of strength from this woman, especially given that he could smell the weed on her as well.
He batted away the glass ashtray that came flying at him and threw himself towards her again, lashing out with one clawed hand as soon as he got within range.
Agnes's scream erupted as the jagged nails (for a human they were strong, vicious, cruel) tore into her collar, through weak fabric and soft skin - grinding into the barely shielded bone and dizzying her with pain. Her wand became little more than a physical weapon, and she attacked him with it, fighting and kicking and stabbing, stabbing, stabbing, in any way she could. Pulling away from him only tore him deeper through her skin, though, and she screamed again through a hoarse sob, heat and nausea washing over her even as the blood welled to the surface. She wasn't dead, yet, and she didn't fucking intend to go quietly; stoned or not, the survival instinct empowered her little fists, her teeth as she bit at him, clawed - anything to put a distance between them.
The scent of blood filled the air accompanied by a scream and Fenrir howled his delight, creating an unearthly harmony. He laughed coarsely as she fought him and raised his hand to lick his claws clean. He grunted when she bit him on the arm and snarled at her, baring his sharpened teeth at her. He shoved her away and lashed out at her once again, not really angry, just annoyed at letting her do such a thing. He took a quick glance down at his am and saw that she hadn't broken the skin. He then turned back to her with a malicious smirk on his face and he lunged at her, his teeth bared and he sought flesh to bite and tear.
Time seemed to freeze a little as teeth sunk into Agnes's shoulder, and her entire body stiffened beneath it, shoulders curling in(to his teeth) and knees tightening, a womb-like defense mechanism that did utterly nothing to stop the attack. She didn't cry out this time, too dizzied by the reality of what was happening to her - too disjointed, too confused, too in-pain. "No." It was a small sound that came from the bottom of her lungs, shaped out of fear and uncertainty and disgust, and though she tried, now, to hit at him, to kick, she was numbed and still, even to the tearing of flesh. If she had been alone here, with only her nausea to comfort her, she might have died in those short, brutal moments - but Fenrir was not left at peace with his victim.
From the staircase, a figure leapt to the ground floor, anger etched into every feature and wand risen. Stubby. A spell came barreling across the room, all red magic and force - anything to drive the werewolf away from the prone girl whom he preyed upon.
Fenrir snarled when he was suddenly hit by a spell and a person. He was almost thrown away from the woman and he lashed out with fists and feet at the man who was pounding away at him, yelling angrily. He let the man get a couple of blows in as he braced himself then he lashed out and threw the man off him. He rolled away and clambered to his feet and was about to launch himself at the man or the woman or even both when he heard a shout from one of the upper levels. A moment later a curse splattered on the floor at his feet. Fenrir looked up to see one of the commune people staring down at him defiantly and he smiled nastily and took off towards the stairs. The man and woman could wait until later; he was going to teach that fool a lesson right now.
Agnes rasped for breath, trying to ignore the way the heat seemed to leak over her, burning all the way down to her stomach. She retched, but as Stubby dragged her to her feet, she shoved him toward the stairs "Don't let him get to the other levels!" And he left her, panting and bleeding. There were more people at stake right now and she could give a damn if she dropped dead: something had to be done. Pulling her wand out of her now-useless, blood-drenched hand, she concentrated long and hard. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts were not fucking cheap right now. But she clutched onto one, small thing and, empowered, managed to create an ethereal looking falcon that stretched its wings and snapped its beak. "Marlene. They're fucking on top of us. Death Eaters. GO!" And it took flight, leaving a bloodied Agnes and a battling Stubby to stop-gap this nightmare of a situation.
II. MAIN BATTLE
Fenrir/Marlene/Agnes
"DORCAS. DORCAS, SHIT, ARE YOU HOME THERE ARE DEATH EATERS ATTACKING AGNES'S," Marlene had screamed through their apartment to her roommate, having no idea if Dorcas was home or caring if people heard her bellowing through the walls. That didn't matter just then. What mattered was that her friends were in trouble and she needed to get there immediately. Not hearing any sort of response from within the flat besides the sound of her own voice echoing off the walls, Marlene was a split second from Apparating off to the commune when she noticed her journal out of the corner of her eye. "Order, right," she muttered to herself, her voice shaking as she flailed around for a quill...a pen... bloody hell, did she still have any crayons out from when Holly had come to visit a month earlier? Oh sod it. Marlene dunked her finger in the inkwell and wrote out a smeary message for the order alerting them to get their tookises to the scene of the attack, a.s.a.p. Hoping with every fiber of her being that everyone else in the Order checked their journals as frequently as she did and that the whole "calling in for reinforcements" thing actually worked in real life.
The scene was already painted with screams and violence by the time Marlene arrived. She had no idea of where to start or who to help in the chaos, and the two seconds she spent in frozen contemplation as to what move to make next nearly got her shot by a hex that missed her and went on to rip a hole through the ceiling and up into the commune's kitchen. Dodging another spell that exploded just to her left, Marlene cast an Bodybind Curse at the Death Eater nearest to her. Either by chance or ridiculous amounts of luck (and most likely both), Marlene spotted Agnes through the pathway that was momentarily cleared in the ruckus as the Death Eater crashed into the floor. "YOU," Marlene yelled to Agnes, running over to her friend and throwing up a shield charm around them. "You and Stubby, you guys need to go, okay?"
"I ain't goin' nowhere!" Agnes screamed, tears of fury rather than pain spilling over her cheeks as she wrenched out from behind Marlene to shoot a spell at some asshole pushing his way through the crowd to get to Stubby. She was furious, soaked in adrenaline and blood and rabidly willing to protect her home. At all costs. Grabbing her shoulder and clenching her fingers around the torn shrapnel of fabric and flesh, Agnes shot another spell, but her aim was weakened and she only grazed past Fenrir, who was returning to the scene of his original crime. She'd be damned if she let him in any further.
Ripping away from Marlene - from safety - she shot out across the floor, wand raised and looking almost like a child attempting to fight off a bigger, stronger adult. She was furious, however, and it helped the strength of her hexes (even if it did little for their accuracy).
Fenrir stumped down the stairs from the upper floors, occasionally ducking a flying hex. His robes were stained with blood and there was blood smeared across his face and hands from the victims he'd found upstairs. He heard a terrified scream and looked up in time to see a Death Eater slam a young woman against a wall and he grinned. The grin was wiped off his face a moment later when a hex grazed his arm. He lurched away and snarled openly as he looked around for the source of the spell.
It didn't take long to find it. The woman who he'd tangled with initially was running towards him looking like an angry terrier. He grinned maliciously and started walking towards her in return. He remembered after a moment to raise a shield around himself then he tucked his wand away. Just like upstairs, he intended to take care of things in a more... personal manner. He waited until she looked like she was about to cast a spell then he shifted, ducked then pushed off and leapt at her.
"Agnes, oh my fucking GOD what are you DOING?!" Marlene screamed after her when she'd taken off, running out of the space protected by the shield charm. She was too hung over at the moment to deal with someone who was injured already trying to be a hero when it was just going to get her hurt worse. Granted, if someone was attacking her home and hurting her family and friends, Marlene would have been reacting the exact same way, but that was not the POINT right now. The point was that Agnes needed to LEAVE, and leave NOW before she got herself killed, because clearly these guys were not just here with intentions of redecorating.
"AGNES. LEAVE. WE WILL FUCKING TAKE CARE OF THIS," she continued to yell as she chased after the hobbling, blitzed brunette with the death wish, trying desperately to ignore her pounding head to concentrate on keeping Agnes (and herself, to a lesser degree), from getting the stuffing hexed out of them. ...Which wasn't going to go so well with Agnes heading straight towards bloody Fenrir Greyback.
Marlene caught up to Agnes just as Fenrir was attempting to pounce on top of her, and made a wild grab for her arm, yanking her out of the way a split second before Fenrir's attack landed and shot a stunning spell at the werewolf...man...thing, hoping it would hit and he would be down and out of sorts long enough for Agnes and Stubby and get out. Whether or not it did hit was another question entirely, but Marlene was not going to wait around to see if her attack had landed. Where was Stubby? She'd lost track of him in the fray, and it was obvious that Agnes wasn't going to go anywhere without him.
By some slight bit of luck, Marlene spotted Stubby in the chaos, and practically threw Agnes into his arms. "Both of you, SERIOUSLY. GO, or I am apparating you out of here myself," she demanded. Frankly, that didn't sound like a half bad plan. Marlene always had had a bad issue with not taking her own advice, though, and was determined to stand her ground until they were sure that the attackers were gone.
Agnes screamed out in a frustrated anger as she was dragged away - half stoned, half unable to cope with the fact that people she loved were being slaughtered before her very eyes. If not for the blood and her size, she would have fought Marlene tooth and nail to get back into the fray, but as it stood, she had little say in the matter, and all the elbows and arguing in the world weren't going to do her any good. Struggling against Stubby's grip proved pointless as well, and though she pounded tiny fists against his chest, though she sobbed and pleaded with him to stay, he tugged her in tight against him and with a loud CRACK they had disappeared, leaving Marlene - leaving everyone - to save the lives of those who remained.
Fenrir snarled and threw himself out of the way of the stunning spell that came from a second woman. He rolled to his feet and, sensing someone nearby, he lashed out angrily. He caught a man in the chest, ripping a deep wound and garnering a sudden scream. He snarled with pleasure then yanked the man towards him and tore at his throat, ripping it out in much the same way as he had with the woman and man on the last full moon, only far, far messier. He tossed the man to one side, grinning at his faint, bubbling screams as he looked for the small woman he intended to finish off.
He growled angrily and swiped at the blood on his face when he realised that she was gone. Nor could he find the woman who had shot the stunner at him in the chaos. He swore viciously and launched himself at a woman who was running past him. She was screaming hysterically and never saw him before he ripped at her throat, his claws opening bloody wounds that spurted blood. He laughed at her sudden shock then sneered when the woman passed out. He picked her up and with a nasty laugh, he threw her at some more of the fools who lived here, revelling in their screams and shocked cries as their compatriot knocked them to the ground. Fenrir then whipped around, trying to find the woman who had tried to stun him.
There was absolutely no amount of training or preparation that could ready a person for something like the scene at the commune that night. Gryffindor or not, Marlene certainly didn't feel very brave just then. No, she felt like Apparating home and sobbing in the shower for the rest of the night. This was worse than Hogsmeade had been, and at the time, it felt like nothing could have surpassed the devastation that had happened at the little wizarding village she'd practically grown up in. This was the home of one of her best friends, ruined and bloodied and pungent with smells that Marlene had half a mind to beg her father to Obliviate her of later.
Ducking behind a couch to dodge a streak of red that blasted over her head, slamming into a shelf that exploded, ripping and splintering into angry slivers, Marlene kept her wand ready, trying to come up with something, anything that might work to get these people out of here. This was a horrible, horrible time to freeze up, but nothing seemed like it would be effective in this fight. Hiding behind the bloody (ugh, literally) couch isn't going to HELP EITHER, Marlene yelled at herself, swallowing hard and peeking over the top of the couch, hoping she'd spot Fenrir before he saw her. (Especially given that he was looking for her, too. Not a fact that would help a girl sleep well at night.)
...She would've been more okay with picking him out in the chaos without having the image of the woman getting her throat ripped out and thrown like a human bowling pin into a group of panicked civilians clearing the path, but it was definitely not the time to be picky. " Petrificus Totalus!" Marlene yelled out, jumping up from behind the couch and shooting the spell at Fenrir, praying that it would strike her target. If he would just stop moving....
It was the sound of the spell being cast that alerted Fenrir to the danger and he felt a moment of snide glee that some witches and wizards couldn't cast spells without verbalising the incantation. That he needed to do the same was irrelevant right now. He dived to the right, straight into the legs of another of the commune dwellers. Fenrir didn't hesitate, he simply raised one hand and dragged his claws down the man's belly, ripping it open. He felt the blood spatter across his face and he howled and ripped the wounds open even further until the man's intestines began to spill out. He then used the man to yank himself to his feet. He grabbed the man, who was now clutching at his intestines, staring down at them in shocked disbelief, and shoved him forcefully in the direction the spell had come from.
He followed his hapless victim, identifying the woman who had denied him his initial prey as the one who had cast this new spell at him. He would have her. He would teach her a lesson in who she should not be casting spells at.
That had not just happened. That was just a very very intensely horrific and disgusting nightmare, and Marlene pledged with every fiber of her being that if she could wake up from this, if this could somehow not be real, she would never, EVER drink again, if dreams like this were going to be the result of a night of heavy partying. The look of utter agony on the lacerated bloke's face as blood and innards toppled gruesomely from his stomach was proof enough that there was no chance that Marlene was merely asleep: there was no way that she possibly could have dreamed up something so completely vile.
And sadly, the madman's thinking had been more than correct. While usually a decent dueler and a whiz at all things Herbal, right now suppressing the urge to vomit was overpowering Marlene's ability to shoot out a hex without speaking the incantation. Especially given the intensity of the turmoil inside the house, being able to focus hard enough on casting a powerful unspoken spell seemed near impossible. It hit Marlene with terrifying immediacy that Fenrir had definitely spotted her, though, and she was well aware that staying rooted in her spot, trying not to lose her nerve would very well lose her something that was likely much more vital. "Fuuuuuck!" Marlene yelled, using the back of the couch as leverage as she took off in the other direction, quite literally running for her life. "LEAVE THESE PEOPLE THE HELL ALONE," she cried, silently adding INCLUDING ME PLEASE as she pushed through the hoards of people and flashes of spells, turning to look behind her and aimed a Bat-Bogey Hex at Fenrir, and continued running, trying to shake the unending queasiness that accompanied having to hurdle over the injured.
Fenrir saw the woman run and he grinned viciously. He always liked it when they ran, he enjoyed the hunt almost as much as the kill. He loped after her, his eyes alight with malicious glee. A spell flew down from above and he hurriedly dodged it, taking his attention off the woman for a crucial second. Once he was sure of his footing again, he turned back only to get caught by a Bat-Bogey Hex.
He reeled back and snarled and whined as he batted at the winged things attacking his face. He lashed out at them with his claws for a moment then scrabbled after his wand. He felt his back hit the wall as he finally managed to cast the Finite to get rid of the damn things. He shook his head and growled low in his chest before looking around to find the woman. She would pay for that with her blood... and perhaps her heart as well.
If Marlene had one thing to her advantage, or at least something to slightly equal out the playing field, was that she was quick on her feet. And having the Bat-Bogey Hex actually HIT had been a godsend, as she'd tripped up for a moment while pummeling through the terrified beatniks, her ankle twisting sideways as her foot hit the ground. It had gotten her a few extra seconds of space between her and the werewolf, though; a brief few seconds to come up with a curse that would prove more effective against him. Obviously the spells designed for making him stop, freezing him in his place had not worked out in Marlene's favour, either due to misfiring on her accord or annoyingly good dodging skills on his, and as Marlene wasn't a complete idiot (beyond the fact that she was engaged in a battle with someone who had just ripped out a man's intestines with his bare hands), it was clear that offensive spells were going to work out better than defensive spells.
Sprinting away from Fenrir's warpath wasn't going to work forever, though, but although Marlene's foot was aching and her head was pounding almost as hard as her heart was, she was relieved that in getting him to chase after her, she was putting more distance between him and other innocent people who he might lunge after. She only hoped that the people of the commune would appreciate the fact enough to stay AWAY, subconsciously or not. Noting that Fenrir had swatted away the bats and was on the move again, Marlene set her wand, spun around to face Fenrir front on, and without hesitating, yelled "INCENDIO!!"
And prepared to high-tail it in the other direction if the hex missed. Fenrir was angry. This stupid woman had gotten between him and his prey, had stopped him from indulging in his entertainment. And now she'd cast some stupid spell at him and run. He needed to deal with her so he could get back to what he was supposed to be doing. He knew Bellatrix was not going to be happy that the two she'd wanted the most had gotten away and now that he thought about it, this woman was responsible for that as well. Admittedly he had the scent of the other two locked in his memory and could easily hunt them down at a later time, either as human or wolf, but still... Bellatrix would not be pleased.
He lost the woman for a moment then caught sight of her again just as she cast her spell. His eyes widened as he saw the distinctive look of the Incendio spell. He threw himself to one side but not fast enough to avoid the spell entirely. Pain seared down his side, his hip and his leg and he howled in anguish. He rolled along the floor to put out the flames that had appeared on his clothes them looked down. Burns were visible through the rents in his robes and blood was already oozing out of them after their impact with the floor.
Fenrir growled audibly and tried to get up. Pain ripped through him and he swore viciously and loudly. He didn't hesitate at this point. He wasn't being paid to be some kind of ridiculous Gryffindor hero. Let's face it, he wasn't being paid at all. If Bellatrix wanted deaths at all costs, let her come and fight for once. He pulled his wand out and closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating hard on his home in the Pennines before apparating away.
Regulus/James
Surrounded once again by the chaos of a full-out duel, Regulus stood to the side, surveying the area quickly to look for an enemy with distracted attention, or perhaps a fellow Death Eater in need of back up. Perhaps even O'Hare and Boardman themselves, as that was the whole purpose of arriving on the scene in the first place. He doubted, however, that the two were not already being taken care of; even so, he wished to be absolutely aware of his surroundings at all times. He would not mess this one up. He would prove himself a competent member of their radical group, and his parents could once again remember that he did things right. That he was their success. That they had reason to be proud of him.
He would not fail.
Unable to find a particular fight in which he was needed, Regulus prepared to join in with Evan (or at least he thought it was Evan...or maybe it was Barty? Or perhaps someone else entirely, as it was rather difficult to tell); the plan was cut short, however, when his eyes fell upon one James Potter, freshly Apparated to the scene. Something boiled in his blood -- he had not yet forgiven James's crudeness, his smugness regarding Sirius's preference for him, the mocking -- everything. As was becoming more and more common, a burning that could only be cooled with revenge began building up inside of him, smothering his normally docile nature. When one was soft, one got hurt; he had always suspected as much, always tried to protect himself from the agony of failure, the pain of loss, the horror of humiliation, but it wasn't enough anymore.
The Death Eaters told him that it was through destruction that they would arise victorious.
His parents endorsed the Death Eaters.
This would need to come naturally. He needed to perfect that compartmentalization, to take it to its new level of self-preservation capabilities. He would need to learn to succeed at that which he had never considered as a child: how to directly bring harm to another person and be alright with it. He had allowed himself to be tripped up by Longbottom in Hogsmeade, he had hidden from the true horror of murder with the fire and the postman -- the man simply disappeared, vanished with the fire, far away from Regulus as he Apparated away. Torture, pain, violence -- they were not in his nature, but he would learn to channel them. He would learn to be strong. Meekness was a weakness, and he would show no such thing. Fear and uncertainty were chinks in his armor that he would not expose.
With adrenaline pumping, he made his way over to James. There was a small group of terrified looking vagrants -- two women, an older child, and a teenage boy -- standing by. Regulus steeled to begin. Knowing the self-righteous berk, the best way to throw of his footing was to go after the nearby defenseless. Unnecessary attacking innocents was not normally Regulus's style by any means, but he was taking every precaution to ensure this would go right.
Deciding to inspire a bit of panic in the bystanders, rather than outright attack them right away, Regulus shot a blasting spell behind them, destroying the crates and part of the stone wall, showering wood and bits of brick onto the group. After giving the area yet another look around -- he would not be snuck up on today -- he turned his attention back to James with a slow but pointed determination. Regulus had a lot of pent up anger he was ready to finally unleash on that crude, self-righteous family-wrecker. It was on.
When James had noticed the note from Marlene in his journal, he hadn't had any other thought than getting to the commune as quickly as possible. He raced upstairs to the bedroom and grabbed his wand from the night stand, before taking the stairs two at a time to get outside. He Apparated in, and was immediately surrounded by screams and hexes. He thought he saw Sirius off to the right, and of course that was where he would join in because they always fought together.
It was only when he heard a blast not far behind him and saw a Death Eater closing in on a group that was unprotected that he changed his course and charged in front of them. He threw up a defensive shield, and only realized when the wand jerked in his hands that he'd not paid enough attention in his great hurry to realize he'd grabbed Lily's wand. Fucking Hell.
There was nothing to be done for it now though, and he cast the spell again. He's used her wand before, mostly as a joke, but the defense seemed to be holding enough that if continued recasting it he might keep them all safe.
"Stay behind me, whatever you do, don't make a run for it yet, he'll pick you off," James called to the people as he took a few steps backward so that he'd be protecting as many of them bodily as he could.
Regulus felt a strange disappointment when James made no move to engage in a duel. He was not necessarily being ignored, but it was not as satisfying with Potter quite so concerned about the bystanders -- perhaps he should have just attacked James in the first place, but there was a strategy being implemented, and he would stick to his original train of thought. He did not run into situations blind and flailing; he planned and made preventative measures. At least James's attention was split. That was always advantageous.
Shooting a strong stinging spell at the older boy's leg, he watched closely for a reaction: would James bite the bait, or was he going to have to make this a one-sided fight? He could have easily killed James with one swift Avada Kedavra by now (and he hoped Potter realised that), but for all his fury, he did not want to kill James -- at least not at the moment. Suffering sounded nicer, or at least some form of cathartic duel.
When James saw a hex coming for his legs he reacted automatically to deflect it, but in doing so watched in horror as the tenuously placed shield seemed to fail for the rest of them. He managed to keep the hex from hitting himself but he realized then and there that either he would protect these people or he would protect himself but he wasn't sure he could manage both. His best chance was to take out the Death Eater, and he had no qualms about sending something in that direction, but with Lily's wand he wasn't sure how effective it would be, and even if it might backfire.
Giving it one shot, he aimed a knee-locking hex at the hooded figure but the wand nearly blew itself out of his hands as he cast it. So that was that... He might be facing his death for all he knew, but at least if he could keep the shield over the others he would protect them as long as he could.
"We're going to have to move," he said to the huddled figures behind him. "When we get outside, all of you run for it and I'll distract him enough that he's not going to worry about any of you," he said firmly. If he had to blow the both of them up to do it, that was just the way it was going to have to be. Slowly he started moving to the left, putting as much force into the buffer for the people behind him as he could. His first priority was to protect them, and then himself, and if he could manage to get off a shot at this son of a bitch then he would.
Reflexively Regulus had thrown up a shield charm when he realised a hex was being thrown at him, but within a passing second he learned it had not been entirely necessary. For whatever reason, James's wand seemed to be acting up, and he suspected hexes might do more damage to James than to himself.
"How unfortunate," he muttered to himself, looking around and scarcely dodging a stray hex in time. People needed to watch where they aimed.
When Regulus realised James was attempting to escape with the group of people, he crinkled his nose; he would need to get that shield down long enough to immobilize them so they wouldn't run whilst he was using them against his enemy. Then he would have to find new civilians, and that was inconveniencing. He disliked being inconvenienced.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he clucked with a calm shake of his head, motioning between James and the protected group of people. "That won't do." Checking which arm seemed to be James's wand arm, he nodded to himself and shot a slicing hex at the other -- it would be even less satisfying if James had to use a bad arm with a bad wand, after all, but he at least needed that annoying shield down.
"Fuck," James swore loudly as he felt a powerful slice rip through his left arm. It seemed that Death Eaters were everywhere and the shield had to hold in a complete circle around them. The person attacking him was well within shouting distance, and relying on the one thing he was best at, James called out to him tauntingly to draw his attention away from the group.
"You fucking pansy! You can see I can barely use this wand and you're still going after the defenseless because you're such a fucking coward you're afraid of me? What are you? The absolute worst Death Eater out of the bunch? It doesn't even surprise me," James said, wincing through the pain of the cut on his arm. "You're so tiny you're either a girl, or Regulus Black, and I'm not scared of either!"
Regulus stiffened at the words, his hand clenching more tightly around his wand. He was not a coward, and he most certainly was not afraid of James Potter with his malfunctioning wand. Objections rose like bile in his throat, but he held them down, taking a deep breath with another swift and sweeping survey of the area. Each time he spoke, he exposed his voice, and he needed to save such things for spellwork -- he could not be recognized, and he would not let James prove his suspicions correct. This would simply have to be dealt with as silently as possible.
Pointing his wand rigidly at James's leg, he murmured Incendio, watching the flames lick at the bottom of James's pants -- nothing that could not be solved with Aguamenti, but with a faulty wand, he felt satisfied that it would not be as easy as usual. The spell was cleanly followed up by a simply jelly-legs jinx to further complicate the matter. He did not like being insulted (and compared to being a girl), and he would just have to prove he was not a pansy the less pleasant way.
The fact that the Death Eater seemed to be toying with him wasn't lost on James, but this was exactly what he'd been hoping for when he'd started yelling insults. Aguamenti was an easy enough spell with any wand and the shield around him held as he put the fire out and managed to dodge the jelly-legs jinx. It was frustrating, not being able to fight back properly, and he could tell by the wet heat that pulsed through his left arm that he was losing a lot of blood. They were half way to the door now, though, and he wasn't going to give up. With a sudden flick of his wrist he sent a small piece of debris flying toward the masked face of whomever he was fighting.
If luck was on his side it would hit him in the face and knock him out, or the person would manage to reach out and grab it, much like a snitch giving James the proof he so desperately wanted. He was hoping for anything at this point.
"We need to move faster," James said, his voice sounding raspy now as the continuous effort to control magic that wasn't his own, matched with losing as much blood as he was currently losing, began to take a heavy toll. "Just to the door," he prompted. He was focused on only two things, and as long as he could keep his focus they could do this. Keep up the shield. Get to the door. Keep up the shield. Get to the door. Keep up the shield...
In the back of his mind he remembered someone telling him once that Muggles killed themselves sometimes by slicing deeply across their wrists... something about the blood being heavier there. Chancing a second of distraction to give his wound a lookover, sure enough, it went cleanly from the inside of his wrist all the way up to the inside of his elbow. But it didn't matter. It couldn't matter now. With renewed urgency he reinforced his spell yet again and a pale shimmer could be seen around the group. James was no longer included even partially in its protective layer as he did all he could to keep the people behind him safe.
Regulus's free arm jolted up to catch the debris, a reflex to seeing something flying at him, and before it could hit his mask, the debris was caught solidly in his hand; he did not know if catching it was normal or not, but the act was immediately compensated for, allowing the bit of debris to drop harmlessly to the ground, shaking his head as if it had hit him and hoping it was a smooth enough transition to be believable. Dealing with James was proving to be troublesome. They were nearing the door, but he could not allow them to escape. His epic showdown was not turning out like it was supposed to. Taking a moment to recall all the times James had mocked him, all the times James had flaunted having Sirius's preference, Regulus pointed his wand once again and shot another slicing hex at James's back. The sight of all of the blood was making his stomach turn, just as it always did, but he hardened his stance, a frozen statue of himself. The shield on the vagrants was almost down, but he wanted to make absolute certain he would not miss in that attack. What was to come, he was not certain if he could do it again if he missed.
James could see the flick of Regulus's wand but they were so close, he couldn't handle losing anyone now. No green light flared from the tip of the wand so at least it wasn't an Avada Kedavra and all James could do was shout "Run NOW!" as he took the hex full on. The pain was blinding and no amount of adrenaline could keep him on his feet. Falling to his knees he cast three hexes in a row at the masked figure, but the wand merely shook in his hand. He had made a grave error when he'd been so careless as to grab the wrong wand and now he was going to pay for it with his life. He watched helplessly as the people he had been guarding ran unprotected for the door.
Turning his eyes back to the figure ahead of him, he thought of Lily, and how he should have tried to say goodbye before he'd come charging to the rescue. It wasn't supposed to end like this, but wasn't that always how Remus's novels seemed to go? He felt as if he was near blacking out, but he steadied his breathing and tried to hold on. If he was going to die, he wasn't going to go in his sleep, he was going to face it like a Gryffindor.
"Fuck you and fuck Voldemort too!" he shouted, unfazed to use the name that so many dared not utter.
The moment the shield went down, Regulus shot the immobilizing spell at them, stopping them in their tracks. After once again making certain no one would be sneaking up on him whilst he finished this little game of sorts, he walked over to where James was sprawled on the floor next to the frozen vagrants. He heard shouts that O'Hare and Boardman were gone, and he had seen people retreating, but he wasn't done here -- they were not done here because for once, he wasn't being trampled on. For once he was causing Potter pain for all the ways he had contributed to the destruction of Regulus's entire world. James had taken what was not his, had caused a rift in everything that was important to Regulus: his family.
One of the women was looking at him, frozen by the spell, and he knew what he needed to do; he was a Death Eater now, and he needed to remember that. Something inside of him curled in on itself at the expression of fear, but it was these people who were his enemies. And he knew the one way to make sure James's suffering would last beyond the healing of those slices.
As he lifted his wand one last time, his hand shook visibly -- whether from anger at James or fear of what he was about to do, he didn't know, but as his thumb pressed firmly against the wood, he felt that almost floating feeling of separating himself, that nagging urge to vomit being pushed away as he whispered, "Avada Kedavra."
He was not certain if it had worked until the immobilizing spell lifted and she fell limply to the dusty floor. A shiver ran through him at the blank expression on her face, and he wanted to step back, but for that moment, he was frozen. He could not even look to James as the other woman screamed, the children moving toward the woman to shake her. His hand shook still as he finally managed to back away, face frozen into a mask beneath the mask.
James saw all that was happening before him almost as if it were playing on the telly or a movie screen. There was nothing he could do stop it, or change it... no magic to save them now. The woman fell, the others rushed toward her, no longer fearing for themselves, and all James could do was look up at the Death Eater who was now only a few feet away.
"She didn't even have a wand," was all he could think to whisper before dropping his head again. Blood was pooling all around him but it didn't seem to matter now.
Another shiver crept eerily up his spine, and he gripped his wand even tighter. He did not like to attack the defenseless -- it made him feel ill to think about, conflicted with part of him that was being pushed down more and more every day, but James had brought it upon himself; hurting people brings more hurt which brings more hurt, and it was a cycle, and he felt kind of queasy as the wailing of the remaining woman and the children and the blood swirled around in his mind, and he knew he needed to leave now before he ended up frozen in someone's crossfire. Giving James one last look, he Apparated away from the scene.
Fabian appeared with a grim sort of look in his eyes. He took in his surroundings very quickly, backing against a wall so that he couldn't be attacked from behind. There were no black-robed Death Eaters in sight; instead, his eyes fell upon a dark pool of blood and a familiar face. With a strangled, desperate sort of dread, he took one last look about him before he practically crashed to his knees, racing to find where the blood was coming from. He located a terrible wound on James' arm and realized quickly there was one also on his back, as his hands came back covered in blood when he made to turn him over some. He knew from the pallor of the young man that there was little time, and so he pulled James onto his lap and Disapparated.