Gerald Avery (tenebrisme) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-03-12 16:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | dante avery, gerald avery |
WHO: Gerald Avery, Dante Avery and some hapless Muggles
WHEN: This evening
WHERE: A dock warehouse, where all the dirty deeds go down.
SUMMARY: Gerald decides to learn some tech from his son and also teach a lesson
WARNINGS: Death, grisly bs, basically stuff you'd see on a realistic Supernatural
Gerald stared balefully at the phone, the pale blue Hooter skin illuminating his craggy face with a garish light in the warehouse’s dim glow. Two victims sat placidly in their chairs, enticed not to speak by use of magic. This helped concentration. But what Gerald required was his son’s good advice. “ … so, we kill them. And then we take a picture. Or is it the other way around?” “Well.” Dante’s gaze darted between his father, the phone and the victims. It could go either way, really, he thought. This was as new to Dante as it was to his father -- not the technology part, but combining that with their Cause in a powerful way. “If they’re not dead, people would go out of their heads trying to find them.” He watched the eyes of one of the victim’s. “Which could be fun. We could kill them later. Use them as bait?” He shrugged a shoulder. “Or you kill them now, arrange them how you want, and share a photo with a message.” “I have a Renaissance-style tableau in mind for these as it were, they can be alive or dead.” Gerald paused, considering the likes of the mouthy DMLE brats who regularly accused him of senility or other such old nonsense. “We post a picture, send a bit of victim to our friends in Law Enforcement.” Dante’s grin widened. “Savage is going to love that.” And it didn’t matter whether the victim was really alive or dead; it would drive Savage and Williamson mad either way. Probably more if they thought they had a chance, only to find out later it was too late. He put an arm around his father’s shoulders in a warm half-embrace. “Follow your instincts. That’s what you’ve always told me, right? We don’t need to delay it if you don’t want to.” With a gentle tap of his wand against his pants, Gerald’s first victim began to scrabble at their throat with their hands. It wasn’t yet a desperate sort of fury and so he waited patiently, turning back to look at his son while miming the clicking of a camera. “I’m very sorry to admit that your life has amounted to my desire to make a point,” he said, full of feigned empathy. He tapped his wand again and the spell was broken, the man now taking deep draughts of air. “We’ll remove this one’s tongue and the other’s eyes. Then, a swift death with a message for Savage and Williamson to decode. Words and deeds matter. Culture is to be respected.” While the victim suffered at his father’s hands, Dante took a few shots with the camera of the process, of the wide-eyed look of fear in their victim’s eyes. Not all of the shots felt wholly necessary, but he didn’t know exactly what his father’s vision was, and he didn’t want to mess it up. Then he took a few extra just in case his father wanted to make a series of them. Or he could send different photos to different people, Dante thought. Different pieces of the puzzle. “It’s time they learned that lesson,” Dante agreed. “I’m surprised she never learned it while she was seeing Clement.” It felt, a bit, like they hadn’t done enough in that time period. Maddie wasn’t a pureblood, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have come to see the world the way they did. The packages were prepared cleanly, the contents within carefully crafted within moments. Gerald, standing in their midst, orchestrated each with his wand and placed them on a nearby table. He then pulled out his phone and signed into Hooter under the handle aestheticwarrior. “Williamson and Savage aside, this can also keep them off our bloody lawn and out of the classroom too.” “Or,” Dante grinned, “it’ll draw their interest and we’ll be able to catch the fuckers next time.” Gerald considered his son’s words, and then returned the grin. He imagined wards that stuck so they would simply wait for the doom to fall upon them. And they could take their sweet time either making an example or re-educating them. But these before them? No re-education at all. They would be fully dead soon. “Either way, what bliss.” |