Who: Jaynedora, Cecelia Capper, Zarkin Frood What: Enjoying the chaos, and collecting another memory Where: Hogsmeade (streetside and in Bobbin's Botanicals & Provisions) When: November 12, 3 PM Rating: There be deaths ahead Pandora walked the streets of Hogsmeade, a smile upon her face as she watched the chaos that ensued around her. Witches and wizards ran screaming as her living inferi destroyed whatever they could put their hands on. Some of the people tried to combat them, but the inferi kept going. She spotted one falling up ahead, suddenly encased in ropes and struggling madly. The spellcaster - from the look of him, an Auror or a hit-wizard - stepped over to the body just in time for it to tear its way through the ropes and lunge after the man.
She chuckled in amusement.
She stopped in her tracks, however, when she felt the irresistible pull of one of her memories. She was standing in front of Bobbin's Botanicals and Provisions, and through the open doorway she could see the shop was a complete mess. Smashed bottles and vials, pooling liquids of various colours, powders caking every surface, and shelving units collapsed, all leaving no surface untouched. She stepped inside carefully.
"Hello? Is there anybody there?" she called out in Jayne's most helpful voice.
"Over here," a pained voice called out to her right. She looked in that direction and saw little but broken wood. With a wave of her hand, she transfigured the loose pieces into a solid bridge upon which she could walk without damanging Jayne's precious body. Finally, after stepping halfway across the room, she spotted two women caught underneath the wreckage. "Oh, thank Merlin, please help me," the woman pleaded as Pandora approached.
"Is she dead?" she asked curiously, referring to the other woman whose eyes were closed.
"Yes, she died an hour ago and I've been stuck here with her all this time," the live woman spoke in disgust. "Now help me!"
Pandora tsked and sat down upon her bridge, looking down at the woman. "What a way to speak about a fellow witch, or to the person who could save your life. For someone who's been suffering from nightmares, I would think you'd have more compassion."
The woman visibly froze. "How- how did you know?"
She smiled. "Because I'm the one who's been killing people for them. You see, your nightmares are actually a memory, and I would dearly like them all back. Unfortunately, the only way to do that is to kill you." She was amuzed at how the woman's eyes grew wide and fearful. "Unless, of course..."
"What? Whatever it is, I'll do it! You don't have to kill me!"
She lifted an eyebrow in query. "Really? Would you be willing to kill someone else if I asked you to?"
"Of course not!" the woman replied defensively. "But I have connections, I could do things for you. My name is Cecelia Capper and I'm of a good family that-"
"Silence!" She shook her head in disappointment. "You would be of no use to my service. Now, for our business." The woman continued to protest but she paid her no mind. She reached inside her robes and pulled out the box, opening it in anticipation. "Now, how will you die..."
The woman's pleas were beginning to annoy her, and so she thought to silence her as best she could. With a twist of her hand and wrist, the woman's neck was snapped. She sighed in pleasure as the dark smoke came out and poured itself back into her box. Standing back up, she snapped the box shut and slid it back into her robes.
"You!" came a voice from behind her. She turned, spotting an aged dark-skinned man that looked very familiar. "That's not your face, but I know you! You made me eat my child!"
"Ahhh," she replied with a smile, walking back down her bridge to face the enraged man. "Now I remember you. You were so amusing in your reactions. So, you have found your way here. Perhaps you didn't run far enough, Mister Frood."
Zarkin Frood backed away from her with every step. He was trembling from a mix of rage and terror. "You killed someone. I know what you've been doing."
"Yes, I did," she replied matter-of-factly. "In fact, you tempt me to do it again. Perhaps I should have killed you the first time."
At that, the man turned and ran out the door, leaving her laughing to an empty room. The fool. If he was here and nobody had found her, then they must not believe what he had to say. It pleased her to no end. She stepped back out into the street, once again off to enjoy the fruits of her labour.