layla 'double betrayla' fairbourne (boundless) wrote in disorderic, @ 2017-10-05 18:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | layla fairbourne, victoria mulciber |
WHO: Layla Fairbourne and Vic Mulciber.
WHAT: A chat about politics during Operation Annoy the DMLE.
WHERE: Dublin and then Camden.
WHEN: 5 October, evening.
“Reducto!” The spell, lazily cast as it was, blew the door to the furniture store inwards and allowed the two robed and masked individuals entrance to the muggle book store. A little mayhem to add to the chaos on a full moon to tax the DMLE was the game in question. Unperturbed by the ruined door she was stepping over, the individual with the winged mask -- Layla -- turned to her cohort and smiled unseen. “So,” she began, voiced muffled some, with every sense of this being a leading intro to something she wanted to discuss. Or gloat about, given the tinge of smugness there. “I think I’ve really gotten under the Malfoys’ skin without even trying.” From behind her mask, Vic’s eyebrow rose in interest. “Don’t tell me you insulted Lucius’ hair,” she said in amusement, nearly colliding with a life size cut out of what could have easily been some muggle Lockhart wannabe. Impatiently she set fire to the display and didn't bother to watch the flames devour the cutout’s idiotic expression or books. Flicking her own wand and launching flames across the counter and till area of the shop, Layla watched them curl and crackle as the muggle store lit up. “Merlin, no, but I should. He was clearly throwing a hissy fit the other day and tried to invite me over… to weed his garden.” Her nose wrinkled under her mask as she slowly retreated to the entrance as the flames took hold. “And then Narcissa included me on a ward with all her family and me asking what use I was, and then threw a hissy fit when everyone said I had one.” “Oh for Merlin’s sake,” Vic rolled her eyes, stepping over the threshold of the door, wrinkling her nose when the edge of her robe singed and started smoking. Fucking books, couldn’t even burn reliably. She batted at the embers and sighed. “Why did he invite you over to weed his garden in the first place?” “Just to be clear here, that wasn’t a euphemism,” Layla shot back in case the emphasis on her companion’s words meant her mind was going places in the gutter. “I joined in on an entry mocking his wife.” Vic winced. When they were out of the building and into an alley, Layla pointed her wand skyward. “Morsmordre!” The Death Eater watched the floating skull and snake for a few moments before speaking again, “They’re so sensitive, it’s kind of cute, actually.” “Cute like toddlers about to throw down in the playground over a bloody daisy crown. I take your ‘cute’ and raise you ‘head-splitting’” Vic drawled, the lifelong resentment of pureblood perfection never too far away. These people might be family of sorts, but they also threw tantrums like children. Not that Vic had a leg to stand on in that regard… “Cute because they’re flailing over the fact they’re desperating trying to prove they’re kings in the sandbox,” Layla mused aloud. “Sounds to me like they’re threatened by a halfblood.” Vic made a clicking sound against her teeth, obviously pleased. The flames from the bookshop behind them roared higher. “Camden?” Behind her mask, Layla smirked, her posture becoming more relaxed after channeling the feelings needed to conjure the Dark Lord’s make up in the heavens. “I held back, I should have just told her that I wasn’t the one with my wand confiscated and sitting at home in July. So yes, I think they do. Prickly shits, aren’t they?” With no particular allegiance to kissing the asses of Purebloods, Layla wasn’t really about to start now. Merit mattered to her. “What’s in Camden, or just because?” “There's a muggle record shop there I despise and want to burn to the useless ash it's worth.” Something called...EDM set on a loop, blaring from outdoor speakers. If the Death Eaters needed any further ideas for torture, surely EDM was it. Layla snorted in amusement. “Good enough for me.” “So are you telling me that there's now a war between the Malfoys and you? Are you expecting more invitations to weed Lucius’ garden?” “Or a war between the Malfoys and others over me, maybe.” The grin on Layla’s face likely was heard in her voice. “Oh, I’m sure.” She turned her masked face in Vic’s direction. “And stop saying it like it’s a euphemism before I hex you.” She’d use the bat bogey hex, she knew. That said, and twirling her wand in her hand before Apparating away with a CRACK, Layla materialized in Camden in an alley. “Maybe when it stops sounding like one. I’m not so sure it isn’t,” Vic smirked when she materialized beside Layla. “And as entertaining as this obviously is going to be -- thanks for that, truly -- I’d be careful. It’s always about bloody family, and family makes you do batshit insane things.” Okay maybe a touch too much self awareness for tonight. “Yeah,” Layla responded simply, sounding a touch somber for a brief moment. That was certainly true for her too, and she could have sworn her arm itched at that moment. Across the street was the darkened, seemingly innocuous muggle record shop. ‘Spin Doctor.’ Vic nearly hissed. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed, and Layla tutted. “Sounds like there’s a story you’re not sharing.” “I pass by this shithole to get to…” Vic’s vehemence faltered, and the older girl shifted a moment, clearing her throat before she started across the road. “That ice cream place there, and -- shut it, this shop insists on playing something that could only be played in some hellscape, on repeat, outside, with no regard for the individuals who are just trying to get through their day with London’s best bloody ice cream.” She sniffed, pointed her wand and barely flinched when the glass blew out in an explosion of sound. “When I politely suggested that they burn it, they told me to ‘be cool.’” Vic inclined her head. “So I suggest we burn it down for them. Anyway, continue.” The sounds of unconstrained laughter came from behind Layla’s mask. “I love it,” she answered, and stepped forward up and over the ledge through the window Vic had shattered. The broken glass crinkled under her boot-clad feet as she entered the building. How very muggle it all was inside. “There’s nothing more to say. I don’t plan on purposely making this worse or anything, but I’m not going to hide away from them.” Layla fixed her eyes on a wall of weird muggle records being displayed, and pointed her wand. “And people say Gryffindors have pride. Incendio!” “People say a lot of things about Gryffindors,” Vic said tightly. With an unsettling amount of satisfaction, she watched the black discs bubble and warp under the fire. She turned, noting the oversized speakers lining the walls. “Confrigo” she drawled, and they exploded in a flash of sparks. “Looks like you have Bellatrix in your corner.” The flames danced and crackled while Layla smiled. There was something comforting about just burning things down. Her concentration broke when Vic decided to massacre the speakers that had played the offending tunes. “Of course they do, because they’re idiots.” If nothing else Layla did have a lot of pride for her house. She hadn’t grown up in a purist household or anything of the sort. “Yeah, well, Bellatrix actually just cares about people getting shit done rather than puffing out their chests trying to play games.” Vic hummed in agreement and watched the fire climb. This was nice, Vic rarely had the opportunity for girl chats. “Have somewhere else in mind?” She pointed her wand to the sky, eyes still on Layla as the snake and skull loomed over the offending building. “I want to hear about Fawcett and I feel I’m at least two destroyed shops short of satisfied.” “Besides,” she smiled. “I’d love your opinion on what I have planned for Corner.” Layla didn’t bother looking at the dark mark this time. You’d seen one in the evening, you’d seen them all. “The only thing I have in mind is shedding these robes and grabbing a pint.” She smirked deviously behind the mask. “I’m excited to hear it.” |