InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Life needs things to live."

Jayne Dough (jayne_dough) wrote in pandorarpg,
@ 2012-02-07 21:06:00

Entry tags:

!status: complete, ^date: november 15 2003, character: dean thomas, character: jayne dough, npc: pandora zurlo

Who: Jaynedora & Dean
What: Torturing like torturers do!
Where: Jayne's flat
When: November 15, 10am
Rating: Pirate (R)

Jayne finished nibbling on her toast as Pandora did her best to convince her that it was time to get started on the boy in the bedroom.

"I think it's about time you took a little initiative, my dear. You don't have to start big, just a little something."

I'm not going to kill him.

"I didn't say you had to. I prefer not to kill anyway. When you leave them alive, you get to torture them again whenever you like."

You're not making it sound appealing.

"Just try something. Don't worry, I will make it worth your while."

Jayne wasn't cruel or heartless by nature. In fact, she'd been the target of far more than she had ever done to others. In the end, that was where she drew her inspiration. All right, I'll go wake him up.

She went into the closet and took out a bucket, using an aguamenti to fill it with water, then using another spell to reduce the temperature to just above freezing. As she picked up the bucket, she could remember being in her second year at Hogwarts and being woken up by the feel of freezing cold all over her body. Someone had thought it would be 'funny' to play a trick on Jayne, to make her entire day miserable. Now, as she held the bucket and stood over the prone, sleeping body on the floor, she felt a strange sort of vindictive power, as if he was one of the ones who'd picked on her when she was younger.

The image strong in her head, she upturned the bucket and sent the small flood of freezing water over the young man's body.

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artisgratia
2012-02-12 02:21 am UTC (link)

Dean didn't know which was worse. The pain of his arm, still sore and throbbing, suddenly on fire, the smell of his own flesh burning or the thought that his arm was being destroyed. Absolutely destroyed. The tears slipped out then, as much as he tried to hold them back.

He couldn't look at his arm, terrified about what he'd see. But she had come closer. He didn't see it, but he heard it, heard the creak of the floor, felt her hand on him. She was right there. If only he could move, throw his full weight against her and...something maybe hit her with something heavy. Knock her out. Get out.

A plan was there, however fragmented and desperate. but it was something and he had to try, once he could move, while she was still gloating over the pain she was causing him.

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jayne_dough
2012-02-12 02:31 am UTC (link)

Before her very eyes, every inch of flesh turned black and charred until, finally, she pulled her hand away and ended the spell.

She began laughing, as she was so happy that she simply couldn't contain the emotion. "Oh, I've missed this so much," she said fondly with a shake of her head. "When you have to kill, you often miss out on the true joy of torturing someone. Like the Potter boy. He could have suffered such great pain, but unfortunately I had not my power back yet, and all I could do was slit his throat. Such a shame, such a waste..."

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artisgratia
2012-02-12 02:41 am UTC (link)

Dean felt like he was suffused in a sea of red pain. It was almost as though everything hurt so much that it could hardly hurt anymore.

He was wrong. He'd only suspected that this woman had killed Harry. He didn't know for sure. But she admitted it, gloried in it, told him what she did...

Dean's eyes opened, rage in them. Penny, Seamus's mum, Harry - they were all dead, because of this witch. With a growl and a burst of sheer adrenaline, Dean pitched himself forward, trying to ignore the pain in his left foot and right arm.

He flung himself at her, the full weight of his sizable form behind the movement and took her down. Behind her, on the floor were shards of broken glass, and other bits of debris not to mention the legs of the furniture around them. he could only hope he hurt her enough to gain a brief upper hand.

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jayne_dough
2012-02-12 02:54 am UTC (link)

It took a lot to surprise Pandora, and yet the boy managed to do just that. She should have paid more attention, but she had simply gloried so much in the torture that she'd forgotten how some were capable of great feats under the right circumstances.

One moment she was glorying in the boy's pain, and the next she was lying flat on the floor, her head having hit first the bed frame then the glass covered floor, and her vision playing havoc with her. She defensively shot out a stunning spell at random, unable to see or even think straight, but nevertheles nowhere near defenseless.

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artisgratia
2012-02-12 02:59 am UTC (link)

It worked. Dean would take the time to revel in that later. For now he was still moving, barely dodging a stunning spell that despite her reduced functionality came all too close. Dean reached with his left hand and grabbed the nearest thing he could: a lamp.

Half-straddling the witch now, Dean lifted the lamp and brought it down hard, striking her head. The angle was sharp and while his left arm was clumsy, the force behind it was heavy. He had an advantage now and he was going to take it.

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	jayne_dough 2012-02-12 03:13 am UTC (link)
	The dizziness was starting to go and she could see the boy moving closer. Unfortunately, before she could reach out, something struck her on the head. And then blackness. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

artisgratia
2012-02-12 03:19 am UTC (link)

The sound Dean made then was a sob of relief and a release when the woman beneath him fell limp. He dropped the lamp and dragged himself off her, leaning heavily on his left arm to pull himself up. With sheer force of will and determination, Dean hobbled, right foot still working, left foot in pain, left arm still working, right arm useless.

He managed to get out of the room and found himself in a living area. With a fireplace, and above it, a container he prayed was floo powder. He hauled himself over, and awkwardly took off the top with his one hand.

Reaching in, he pulled out a handful of powder and threw it into the fire, nearly sobbing in relief again when it flared up just right. He fell forward into it, calling out his address as he did.

And he was gone, leaving the nightmare of the witch and her terrifying dual personality behind him.

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