Amos Diggory (vilomah) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-02-25 08:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | amos diggory |
WHO: Amos Diggory and Humberto Pyrites
WHAT: A fight
WHEN: Late morning, February 25
WHERE: A field
WARNINGS: Amos isn't fucking around
Once he'd scouted a location, Amos sent an owl to the fraud of a magician for their duel and set up camp. No Death Eater would have the advantage of getting there before him, setting a trap or hiding compatriots around. And if the man wasn't too chickenshit, he would arrive in an hour or so. Amos brought a folding chair and a book and waited. Humberto, as sore as he still was, wasn’t going to back down this fight that he’d publicly picked while high. Sure, that was a bit embarrassing, but he couldn’t back out now or he’d lose even more face, and his reputation was already suffering this month both inside the Death Eaters and outside in society. So, here he was, wearing the Death Eater regalia sans mask as he popped a little away from the location indicated in the owl, and walked in wary discomfort towards where the man was reading. As the Death Eater walked closer, Amos glanced up from his book. He made a show of dog-earing the page, closing the book, and putting it down on the seat beside him. Then, without introduction or warning, he fired a conjunctivitis curse at the approaching man. The stolen muggleborn wand had already been in the Death Eater’s hand when the curse came, a scowl spreading upon his features at Diggory. The man wasn’t taking him seriously, no one was taking him seriously these days. A shield sprung forth and caught the man’s curse, and then he was flinging magical knives right back with Lamina. Just as quickly, the chair turned into a shield and caught the knives, which pierced partway through or clattered off harmlessly as Amos pushed forward with it. Soon he was running, just fast enough to use the knived chair and take a giant swing at the illusionist. “Cru—” the Death Eater began, but Diggory was faster than he anticipated, and with the extra reach of the weapon his swing connected. The chair smacked Humberto upside the head, spinning him around and sending him sprawling to the ground where he groaned into the ground from his chest for a second before trying to push himself desperately to his feet against his aching, still bruised ribs. Amos kicked him in the midsection for good measure. There was a strangled gasp from the Death Eater at the kick cracking one of his ribs, and then he collapsed onto the ground once more. Despite the shooting pain, Humberto shot a foot out at his assailant’s ankle, and then propped himself up enough to send a blasting curse in Diggory’s general direction. It connected, or close enough to push Amos back far enough that he couldn't continue the attack. It hurt, but with a Death Eater this close and nearly at his mercy, he wasn't about to lose his chance. He threw an Expelliarmus and, as the wand flew out of the Death Eater's hand, he charged back in. With the wand flying out of his grasp, Humberto was suddenly in an even worse position given he was still mostly prone on the ground. He scrambled, searching the pockets of his robes in a panic for his usual arsenal — playing cards, knives, hats, doves, anything. What came out was an empty water pistol instead. Amos actually stopped in his tracks, staring at the toy. "Is that a joke, Death Eater?" he asked. Then, because he and everyone else who wore that mask and that tattoo deserved it, he fired off and held a suffocation curse. “It’s —” no joke Humberto meant to claim, but suddenly his throat was closing off as if someone were pouring water down it. He coughed, sputtered, and gasped. All of which didn’t make his re-fractured ribs feel any better. But suddenly the Death Eater spiralled out of existence, the water pistol portkey in his hand taking him far, far away. Amos yelled in frustration as the Death Eater disappeared on him. "You fucking coward!" But there was nothing left to do. The man was gone. He would just have to find another Death Eater. |