Mod Journal for Throwing Stones RPG (throwing_mods) wrote in throwingstones, @ 2010-04-17 18:28:00 |
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Severus & Aston vs. Sirius So this was fun, Severus supposed. In a very Death Eater sort of way. He'd never been much for the whole destruction and chaos thing, but he could get behind it now and then; it was a nice outlet for frustration, and it was really kind of liberating to just be able to do whatever the hell you wanted. Of course, the destruction-chaos package was a means to an end today, and blowing things up was a bit less therapeutic when one was simultaneously preparing to wage battle. Not that he'd ever admit it, but Severus was a bit nervous, it being his first actual battle. So he was cautious, hanging back a bit from the thick of the fray, his dark eyes darting about behind his mask. Just waiting. He seemed to remember the point of being there after a moment, though, and flicked his wand toward the nearest building, watching with a detached sort of fascination as it blew up. Okay, yes. He could maybe get used to this. It felt wrong to say that this was the same old, same old, but for all intents and purposes? Causing upheaval wasn't exactly something new to Aston. Yes, he may have usual defaulted to his own sneaky ways of going about it, but the spectrum the Death Eaters worked along was used to their advantage by whatever means necessary. And what was going forth now was in fact necessary. Of course it wasn't as simply as causing destruction, no, but it was thought of as an added benefit. A witch trying to flee away from all of this up ahead caught his attention, a gouging hex sent at her receding back. A small chortle left his lips as he watched it tear a hole straight through the woman's side, her falling to her knees clutching her side with a drawn out scream. That hadn't been fancy, but it would do. Depraved satisfaction gained from the knowledge that the woman would most likely die aside, he knew this was no time to get caught up in the midst of things. Again, they were here for a reason. Pausing a step, he looked over his shoulder as best he could from behind his mask, spotting no vigilantes. Only Severus. Some members of the Order no doubt entered the battle with no other thought in their minds than working to save the innocent, and while Sirius considered it to be one of the tasks he would go about while there in Hogsmeade, his focus was on the Death Eaters and stopping them. That was the reason he had joined the Order, after all. If there were no Death Eaters to cause trouble then they wouldn't have to worry about saving anyone, and their problems would be solved, and so Sirius entered the fray intent upon finding Death Eaters to put out of commission. He happily found not one, but two Death Eaters to keep him entertained, and he quickly cast a set of stunners at the masked figures and followed them up with a double Incarcerous in the hopes that he could knock them out and bind them up. That would certainly serve to keep them out of the battle and they would make a lovely gift for whatever law enforcement officials deigned to make an appearance on the scene, although it was probably pointless for the DMLE to take them into custody. Criminals never seemed to remain in custody for long, sadly. Finally, Sirius threw up a Shield Charm knowing that he would need to defend himself well if the duel remained two against one. Severus raised his eyebrows as he watched the woman his comrade gouged a hole in fall. Judging by his mannerisms, it was Aston. Mulciber had always been a sadistic fuck, and the little laugh that escaped him suggested it hadn't changed. Severus took no joy from hurting people that way, but whatever. He who is without sin, and all. The problem with these masks was that they sort of eliminated one's periphery, and it was thanks to luck that Severus stepped just out of the way of the first of a barrage of stunners. He tossed up a Shield as he turned toward the source, and prepared to retaliate... But he froze. Black. Severus shouldn't have been surprised, really. Sirius Black had always liked to stick his neck out. Vigilante was probably his bloody dream job. Well, the great thing about being a Death Eater was that Severus now had an excuse to test some of his nastier inventions. The ones he'd dreamed of using on this very person, back in school. As he raised his wand, he found he was a whole lot more enthusiastic about this than he'd been just moments before. "Sectumsempra." What? You didn't honestly expect Aston to be allowed to go forth causing destruction to bait out these vigilantes and he in turn using some restraint in this all, now did you? Come now, let's not be silly. There wasn't that much time to revel in the potential death of an innocent, though, as before long another appeared. This one a bit more familiar. And obviously not trying to run away. Aston threw up a shield charm just in time to fend off those advancing stunning spells not a moment too soon, and as for the Incarcerous? Please. There was no way he was going to allow himself to be taken out of the fight so early on, especially not by the likes of a blood traitor like this. He may not have had the same shared history that Severus had with the one now in front of them, but it didn't mean that he didn't know who this was they were dealing with. Obviously betraying the heritage you had been born into wasn't enough, no? At nearly the same second Severus used his own little brain child of a curse, Aston threw something similar Sirius's way. "Scindo!" he bellowed with a wide downward arc of his wand aimed towards the little Black reject. Sectum what now? Sirius knew better than to pause and make faces in the middle of a battle, but unfortunately sometimes things were easier said than done, and the spell from the first Death Eater crashed into his Shield Charm and shattered it. Before Sirius could cast another, he was hit with the second Death Eater's spell, thankfully only in the left arm as he turned to dodge out of the way, but it still left quite the gash, and he hissed, taking a few steps away from the two cloaked figures in front of him. Maybe fighting two Death Eaters hadn't been the best plan, ever, but poor planning had never really stopped Sirius before, and it certainly wouldn't stop him at that moment. He could deal with a cut, even if it was deep, which is had to be judging by the blood he felt trickling down his arm. Throwing up another Shield Charm, he prepared himself for another onslaught of their spells and tried harder to concentrate that time so that his defence wouldn't fall at first impact. Quickly, he ran through a mental list of spells he had learned, and he smirked as Emmeline's spells came to mind. Grinning a bit despite his injury, Sirius cast the Eye Burning Hex at the first Death Eater and the Air Loss Hex at the other hoping to impede them both for a time. Severus deflected the hex dismissively. He hadn't found himself in a duel since Hogwarts, but he'd gotten a lot of practise there, both in actual legitimate duelling club and - what do you know? - thanks to Sirius Black himself. First Lupin had been kidnapped, and now this: two against one, versus Black. Maybe Severus's luck was finally turning around, after so many years of torment at the hands of their little clique. He fired a relentless series of hexes toward Black's figure - all of them designed, in some way, to make the target bleed profusely. Severus found it fitting and ironic that he, the halfblood, was spilling pure Black blood in the name of the Death Eaters. In that moment (and for one of the few times since he'd joined) Severus was absolutely certain he'd made the right choice, taking the Mark. Aston wasn't exactly so lucky, perhaps feeling a bit cocky as his spell hit. Enough so to neglect that shield charm at the wrong moment, then finding himself feeling as if someone had reached into his chest and squoze all of the air out of his lungs. Breaths didn't exactly come easily, and using a verbal spell would probably be out of the question right now. Which frankly was not in Aston's favour; the non-verbal spells he knew being considerably less reliable. But he did have a few at his disposal, and so pointing his wand at Sirius again - his other hand curled at his chest as if that would help - a silent Reductor curse was sent at the mudblood sympathizer. For good measure, he set up another shield charm, though it was definitely not as reliable as he would have liked due to it also being unspoken. Sirius recognised that voice. He recognised it very well, and the memory of the Incident of which the Marauders never spoke these days came rushing back, and anger flared up inside him. Perhaps he should never have directed Snivellus toward Remus on the night of a full moon, but he should have played some manner of disastrous prank on him, and it should have gone as planned, because the Death Eater did not deserve to be standing in front of him. "I wonder how Lily is going to feel when she finds out that we were right about you." Sirius smirked at Snape, but his taunting stopped him from effectively blocking all of the spells that came at him, and one of them clipped his left arm, creating a deep gash that made Sirius hiss and look down to see just how much damage had been done. He made a face at the wound, not liking the looks of it but it didn't matter. He was going to teach this bastard and his friend a lesson. Thankfully while looking down, Sirius saw the Reductor Curse hurtling at him, and he jumped out of the way just in time to watch it go crashing into a window and essentially blow it into tiny little pieces. Good thing it hadn't hit him. Giving Snape a look that said he was clearly going to have to try harder, Sirius cast the Extended Air Loss Hex Emmeline had taught them at the former Slytherin and then turn and cast a flurry of incendios and gouging hexes at the other Death Eater. By the time Severus was done hurling spells at Black, he noticed that Aston was having some difficulty of some kind over there. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but shot a finite incantatem over at Aston's figure before rounding on Black again. Of course he had to mention Lily. Of course he did. But at about the time Severus took in a breath to respond - with what, he didn't even know yet - he found that he wasn't exactly getting any air. He took in a few shallow, experimental breaths, but none enough to get rid of the light-headed feeling... It was annoying, at the very least, and Severus shot another vicious slashing hex at Black - the best sort of spell he could manage with no voice. Had Aston not been struggling to breath, he would have surely smirked at that comment made by Sirius. It appeared he wasn't the only one who had been found out today. Never a good thing was it for any amoung their ranks to be outed, but this little feud that had been long growing between the other two was interesting to watch unfurl. Or again, would have been if he hadn't moved on to taking gasping breaths in an attempt to get the littlest bit of air into his lungs. He hadn't fully been paying attention to Severus, keeping a watchful eye on the blood traitor, but when he found himself actually taking in air, a glance was sent towards the younger Death Eater as if some sort of acknowledgment. Eh, it could be given from time to time if it was due. Had Aston even been set to truly thank the other - trust him, he wasn't - there was no time for that as he saw those spells coming his way. Four quick paces to the left avoided the first Incendio, and the shield he threw up in he process of doing so seemed to ward many of the others off, but it was one of the gouging hexes that broke through, clipping his right calf. It was enough to do a bit of damage, Aston was sure of that, but the pain wasn't so unbearable that he wouldn't be able to walk on it. A limp could seriously slow him down, though. So of course there was only one obvious choice of action, "Crucio!" Sirius quickly transfigured the rubble scattered all over the ground into a shield of shorts, levitating it into the air just in time for it to block Snape's spells, but it fell to pieces with the onslaught of spells meant to slice through flesh and muscle. Focused on defending himself from Snape, Sirius failed to jump out ofthe way of Aston's Cruciatus, however, and he collapsed to the ground, nerves on fire and pain radiating through his entire body. He had to break the spell. He was not leaving himself vulnerable to two Death Eaters, especially one he was sure would love to off him. Shakily pointing his wand toward the Death Eater casting the spell on him, he levitated a rock from the ground and flung it at his face, aiming as well as he could considering the fact that he was in excruciating pain and could barely concentrate. It was that inability to focus that made Sirius consider the battle. He knew Snape knew how to duel, and though he didn't know the identity of the second Death Eater, he wasn't a bad hand at using the Cruciatus Curse. Sirius wasn't entirely sure he wanted to face them both at the same time, not without some sort of plan. Scrambling to his feet once the spell was alleviated, he tossed slashing hexes at both of the Death Eaters and ducked around the corner, hating himself for bailing on a battle against Snape. He was never going to live it down, never, at least not until he finished it sometime in the future, and he definitely had every intention of doing so. This would've been a whole lot more satisfying to watch if Severus could, you know. Breathe. His vision was becoming spotty and he was taking in shallow gasps, swaying a bit on his feet while Black shook under Aston's Cruciatus curse. An idea sparked vaguely in his brain, and he turned his wand on himself, croaking a second finite. Air rushed back into his lungs, and Severus celebrated by breathing a sigh of relief. Black was also making an attempt to get his feet back under him in this battle, and Severus threw a blasting curse at him to disabuse him of the idea. However, their opponent scrambled away, and Severus had to defend himself against the slashing hexes he tossed their way. Still slightly out of breath, he didn't give chase, but he scowled. So much for Gryffindor bravery. Or maybe Black just wasn't as stupid as he looked. Felix vs. Ted Felix was having quite a good time, the previous month’s frustration and anger that had no outlet since he was basically on probation, had gained a perfect proxy with the mayhem he and his fellow Death Eaters were creating now. There was a smell of charred wood and blood, the smoke that was becoming overpowering didn’t affect Felix in least, not when his mask was in place. It served those bloody vigilantes well that they had thought to mess with them in the first place, as if their nobility and fancy training was any match for a large group of immoral fanatics with absolutely nothing to lose. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, Felix thought as he caused another shop to explode into a ball of fire, the glass from the shattered window raining harmlessly on him. As much as Felix absolutely hated the cards life had dealt him, he was quite fond of living, he would deal with the cow of a fiancé, the daily punishments, and the high and mighty sister if he had to. As it had for the past month, the thought of his sister had him narrow his eyes, anger once again swelling up and ruining his mood. What the fuck did she know anyways? Thought she was—he tossed a stunning spell to a group of witches attempting to flee—so smart, telling him that he was somebody, that—a slashing hex to a man who’d had the audacity to go for his wand to defend himself—he could choose what he wanted. She was so bloody naïve. Gritting his teeth so hard his jaw was beginning to hurt, Felix vehemently caused another shop full of people to ignite into flames, the rage of the fire seemed to mirror his own. He didn’t give a hippogriff about this Dark Lord stuff (to him it was just another person he had to dutifully follow), he was raised to hate mudbloods so he did, and he was raised to desire the purity of high pureblood status so he did. A chance at that sort of respect came with the price of being a Death Eater, so Felix would do it, his Grandfather was giving him little other choice anyways. All of his friends were members anyways, and he wasn’t about to go and be the one loser of the bunch. He had the best hair, Aston be damned. He knew that Emmeline was a part of this group, and it didn’t surprise him in the least. She likely had her suspicions about him and his involvements, and the past month was a culmination of her trying to save him. As if she actually cared; as if he wasn’t fine without her misguided sense of charity. He supposed this was poetic, they’d always been at odds, and now the dividing line really was clear cut. What angered him most was that he still cared about her, and hated the doubt she’d inspired in him. She was blinded by her own futility and sense of honour; well she would be seeing the truth of things soon enough, he would make sure of it. Another building, this time a pub, exploded into flames, and the violence of the situation was calming him considerably. Still, it wasn’t as satisfying as physically beating the hell out of another person, and Felix let out a petulant sigh. He was about to turn on a huddle of witches and wizards who had made it out of the pub, but his attention was torn away by the sounds of shouts amidst the screams, and most notably a few pleased cackles from his own teammates. Felix looked up to see that the vigilantes had arrived to “teach them a lesson or two” and it was a smirk that quickly replaced a scowl when he noted a few familiar faces in the crowd. Bloody finally, he was beginning to get robe hair. Ted really did prefer being behind the scenes. He did like to help out where he could - just, far away from actual physical danger. He had a family to stay alive for. The problem lately, though, was that his family's livelihood was rather more precarious than usual. Andromeda had been recognised at that garden party last month, and the Tonkses had been in hiding ever since. Immediately afterward, Ted had entertained the notion that joining the Order had been a huge mistake. Sometimes, he still did. He was still working past the instinct to grab his family and run away from the danger. But it was days like today - days that were happening more and more frequently - when Ted found himself rushing toward it. At least he had the consolation that Andromeda and Nymphadora were perfectly fine back at the Order safehouse, nowhere near the destruction and chaos he had just apparated into. Maybe the point had been to go for the Death Eaters, but Ted's first instinct was never to wage battle. Putting out the flames that were consuming half the town, though, was something he could do; something he'd be better at than duelling, that was for sure. If he ran into a Death Eater on the way...well then, he'd deal with that when it came. But for now, he raced toward an explosion, past a group of hysterical people who'd barely made it out, and raised his wand, attempting to if not extinguish, then at least keep the flames from spreading to the neighbouring buildings. Felix didn't notice Ted run up to douse the flames of his latest explosion, having been too focused on some of the vigilante's in the distance. He made out Marlene McKinnon, and that Evans girl, the one that Mr.Lestrange really hated. His eyes were narrowed in an attempt to make out more when he noticed the flames that had previously been warming his back, weren't exactly doing their job anymore. Turning around curiously it was then that he caught sight of Ted. "What, exactly do you think you're doing?" he asked out in a drawl tinged with irritation. With a flick of his wrist he threw a blasting spell Ted's way. Ted was pretty relieved when the flames began to subside. Less fire was always a good thing, at least, though with the place crawling with Death Eaters, there would probably soon be more. At least he wouldn't have an absence of things to do... Of course, this only worked as far as he went unnoticed, and Ted gave a sharp yelp as something exploded very, very close to him, and he stumbled back. It was then that he noticed the Death Eater that had noticed him. Well, damn. There was no time to be reluctant now, though, and he shot a Disarming spell and a Stunner toward the Death Eater, really hoping that somehow he'd luck out and this would end well. Unfortunately for Ted, it did not. Shielding himself, Ted's spells went ineffective, and Felix stepped closer. "I recognize you," he started conversationally, wand poised, and eyes studying him carefully. He wasn't a pureblood, Felix definitely would have known from a mere glance if that were true. Though these days considering the fact that he wasn't to associate with pureblood traitors, he might not know one or two. They really should have flash cards. Something about Bellatrix, was what was coming to Felix's mind. Ha he must have been drinking. "Bellatrix? Impossible," he voiced his own musings, chuckling, "because you definitely wouldn't be alive if that were true." With precision Felix uttered a bone shattering curse, aiming it at Ted's wand arm. Ted nearly winced. The last thing he needed was for some Death Eater to figure out who he was, not only because it wasn't safe for his family to be associated with vigilantism in general, but because he didn't really want to capture the attention of his sister-in-law. He knew perfectly well that she would kill him with a smile on her face, if they ever found each other. So he didn't clear up the Death Eater's confusion, more concerned with snatching his arm out of the way of the spell the hooded figure had just thrown at him. It only worked up to a point, the light of the curse catching the side of his wrist. Ted felt something in his wrist shatter and he clutched it to his chest, only barely managing to transfer his wand from one hand to the other without dropping it. "Fuck," he swore vehemently. Okay, this was not good. Healing was definitely in order, and it was probably best to get out before the Death Eater actually figured out who he was. Gripping the handle of his wand in his left hand almost painfully - the pain was nothing compared to his other hand - he spun quickly and apparated away to tend to his wound. "Hey," Felix called out as he realized what the man was about to do. "You can't just--oh come on!" he threw his hands up in the air. What the hell was with these people, they come out to play, and then run off when it's just getting good. Honestly. Though with a smirk of pleasure, Felix congratulated himself on being such an imposing figure. It was pity he wouldn't get to make the man suffer... He really was familiar, and that irksome tug at his brain stem about Bellatrix was only serving to confuse him more. The man hadn't said anything, but he couldn't exactly take that as anything committal--wait. Felix remembered only too well the absolute scandal Andromeda Black had caused when she'd gone off to marry that mudblood, what was his name? Tongs? Tocks? Whatever. He recognized him as Andromeda Black's husband, which was a bit of a reassurance because he at least knew he wasn't crazy. Pity he couldn't have served the fool up on a platter for Bellatrix, that surely would have made his month. Walden vs. Lily Walden was fairly familiar with Hogsmeade from his days at school. It was nearly ten years later, but he still ended up in the small village on occasion for a drink or some other order of business. Today it was most definitely business and as he Apparated on site he pushed his mask so that it was pressed against his face snugly. It was a bit exciting to not know exactly who he would be fighting against. He was personally hoping that Caradoc Dearborn was not a coffee drinker, although it would make weeks of stalking completely moot. He decided it didn't really matter who he fell up against and so with a smirk he flicked his wand in the direction of a quaint looking shop and watched as the glass blew out onto the street with an impressive shattering sound. Lily had read the ward to the Order and hadn't wasted time. Yes, perhaps she - of all people - should have wasted time but Lily had never been one to consider her own personal safety before the safety and protection of those she loved. And so instead of her usual glamour charms she'd instead just grabbed James' Tutshill hat and stuffed her obvious hair underneath it, hoping the brim would shield her eyes enough as well. It would have to do. Arriving in Hogsmeade, Lily immediately took account of the chaos, rushing towards a building in order to see if anyone was inside. Moments before she reached it, the shop exploded in a shower of glass and wooden debris. Immediately Lily cast a shield charm to protect her, glancing around for the source of the explosion. That's when she noticed the Death Eater. Using the fallout from the building, and her position slightly out of view, she sent the debris hurtling towards the masked man: glass, and wood and metal panelings. True it would inform him of her position, but she had to do something. Walden was so happy to have someone to duel that he didn't even mind that his first order of business was to defend himself. Her attack did the deed of giving away her position and Walden was able to deflect most of the debris on time. Some shards of glass hit his mask and he clamped his eyes closed, though none of the pieces came close to the eye holes. The moment he knew he was safe from more onslaughts of glass he moved back into duelling position and moved so that he was facing Lily and she could no longer hide as she had been doing. He couldn't identify her with the hat, especially with his mask on, but he didn't care who she was. She had attacked him first and that was all he needed to know. He smirked behind his mask and said "candidus ignis", causing a bolt of lightening to shoot from his wand and straight for Lily's chest. Lily dropped to the ground, feeling the heat of the lightening pass over her head and used the bright light as a cover to cast a series of blasting and stunning hexes at the Death Eater from her place on the ground. How the hell was this guy, bloody Zeus? Who used lightening? Rolling off to the side, Lily pushed herself to her feet and threw up a shield charm to give her a blessed few seconds to get herself straightened out and ready to fight. The last thing she needed was to be disarmed or hit with another bolt of lightening or something while she was trying to stand. Walden somehow managed to avoid both of her attacks, though it involved a bit of fancy footwork and he only missed the stunning hex because he threw himself to the ground. From the ground he was still trying to make out her face beneath the brim of her hat, though failing. Sure, he was wearing a mask but that was a hat and not exactly the most brilliant way of disguising one's self during a battle. He climbed to his knees and cast a blasting hex, a slashing hex, and an incendio in an attempt to take town the shield and then, as an after thought, shot a heavy gust of wind from the tip of his wand to see if he could rid her of the wretched thing on her head. The shield survived the blasting hex, but as the slashing hex hurtled it broke and Lily found herself having to spin out of the way of the fire that blazed past her. Only to be caught in a gust of wind that knocked her onto her backside. Lightening and wind. She really was fighting a wannabe Zeus. Not noticing that her hat had been ripped off her head in the windstorm, Lily rolled to her side and pointed her wand at her masked opponent. "Defluo, Doleo testis, Immobulus lacerum," she called out, aiming for his right leg with the third spell. As soon as the spells left her wand Lily was pushing herself to her feet and tucking her hair behind her ears and out of her face as she faced the Death Eater. The first spell hit his chest and he fell back once more, allowing the following spells to breeze overhead. She was a redhead, that much he had revealed, and he automatically thought of Valere. If this was his redhead, Walden wasn't sure what to do there. Was he supposed to kill her because Valere wanted her dead or was he supposed to incapacitate her and then hide the body until he could come round, pick her up, and deliver her to Valere himself? These were the thoughts going through his head as he tried to catch his breath. It felt like he'd been hit in the chest with a bag of bricks. He was still having trouble breathing and he was trying to sit up, only to fail. So instead he cast a blasting hex at the ground to shake her up a bit and then he whipped his arm, straining to shout his Cruciatus. When his blasting hex hit the ground Lily first though that he just had very bad aim. That was until she lost her balance, the shield charm she had up breaking as she struggled to stay on her feet. Which ended being a completely pointless endeavour as the crucio managed to hit her while she wasn't paying attention. It was possibly the fact that the Death Eater was struggling to breathe, but the curse wasn't quite as strong as Lily'd felt before. Of course this wasn't saying too much since 'not quite as strong' for a cruciatus was akin to saying winter in the Sahara was 'not quite as hot' as summer. It was still bloody hot either season. And the curse still bloody hurt. But as her body convulsed on the ground she had just enough mental clarity to aim her wand in the general direction of the man from her place on the ground, struggling to lift it. And as her arm dropped back hard she used the motion and in the midst of her screaming shouted the incantation for a slashing hex. Whether or not it hit him she didn't care, she just wanted it to stop. It wasn't a strong curse because he was distracted, and it didn't take much to break his connection. It did give him a little more time to catch his breath, though he did still take the slashing hex across the shoulder as he moved to sit. He sucked a breath through his teeth as he dropped the hold on his Unforgivable. It wasn't a particularly deep wound but he was still bleeding and it still hurt. They were still near the shop that no longer had a window and Walden summoned the fully set bistro table from inside and he hurled it in Lily's direction and then used another gust of wind to put a bit of speed behind his projectiles before he pressed his free hand to his shoulder. Still on the ground from the crucio, Lily threw her hands over her head as the table whipped over her, pushed ahead by the wind. This guy just really liked weather, didn't he? Which didn't do much to tell her who he was, but she was relatively sure he wasn't Severus which was a bit of a relief. Her limbs twitching as the former curse began to wear off, Lily used the distraction following the table to push herself to her feet (wobbling as she stood in the tail end of the wind), and threw a blasting hex and prepared to cast another slashing hex. However just as the spell left her lips she felt herself being picked up - as though an invisible hand had gripped her robes - and her body was being flung across the road. Where Zeus and his weather happy wand were nothing but figures in a crowd. The blasting hex hit the ground just feet in front of him and he shielded his eyes from the debris that splashed up from the impact. With a quick movement of his arm he returned the blasting hex, followed by another crucio but when he lifted his eyes he saw the blast crash into empty ground and the red string of light disappeared into the distance. Walden carefully lifted himself up and glanced around, wondering where the hell the redhead had gone. He took the opportunity to use the only basic healing he knew on his arm, just enough to stop the bleeding, and he set off in search of someone else to bother. Constantine vs. James Constantine was always the sort of fighter who threw his entire self into it. He was aware of his own mortality, but in the act of fighting he was not attached to it. In this battle, particularly, unlike ones that had gone before it, Stan was all too eager to prove himself. The memory of his failure at being captured was still fresh in his mind, and he was practically a destructive ball of energy as he passed through the streets of Hogsmeade. He had been practising, plotting for this moment and had visited Hogsmeade in the past few weeks, deciding beforehand what shops he was going to burn, and which ones to lock before he blew them up. As always, he didn't say a word. His non-verbal magic had flourished in his lessons with Sabriel, and he was eager to prove to his mentor that he was not a complete failure like his incompetent son. Constantine spotted a shop owner who he knew to be a Muggleborn with a tendancy to favour the Muggleborn students when they visited the village. Stan had hated him ever since his first visit to Hogsmeade when he served all the mudblood filth before dealing with him. The man was trying to escape, to salvage whatever he could from his shop. Constantine crossed the distance between them and grabbed the man from behind. He let out a little yelp, but before he could scream for help, Constantine snapped his neck like a brittle twig, tossing him to the ground with a satisfied smirk behind his mask. He had wanted to do that for a very long time. A day off from work didn't exactly ensure that you had the day off, James knew all too well by now. Upon receiving word that Hogsmeade was being attacked by Death Eaters, that was all it took to get him to that exact location ready for a fight. What exactly he was going to be up against was unknown going in, but that was another thing you quickly learned when dealing with Death Eaters repeatedly. Even if he tried, he had lost count of all of the times he'd had run-ins with the scum in recent time. With his hair still wet from a shower, James had his wand at the ready as he came upon one of the masked bastards. That in itself would have provoked the response it did, but his immense hatred for these servants of their stupid Lord intensified exponentially as he heard the crack of the older male's neck as his life was effectively terminated. Swallowing a grimace, he pointed his wand at the back of the other. "Alarte Ascendare." Nothing outright offencive about that, but it could definitely cause some damage. Not to mention get the other's attention, which was kind of intended. Constantine was hit in the back with the curse and flew forward, hitting the cobblestone path. He was on his feet in seconds, winded, angry and ready to fight. This was what they were there for, after all, and no one was going to shoe him up this time. Drawing his wand, Constantine walked briskly towards the one who had cast the curse, pointed it directly at him and used a non-verbal Crucio. It wasn't as impressive as it would have been had he cast the spell vocally, but it still packed a punch. A classic. He held it for several long seconds before whipping his wand upwards and breaking the curse, using this opportunity to kick the younger man in the stomach. James was on the offence after using that first spell of his own, expecting that there would be some sort of retaliation. Of course there would be, this was a Death Eater after all. The one thing James hadn't expected was that this person would use a non-verbal crucio! Who did that? Really!? There wasn't much time to ponder this great question in life when he felt that pain he had felt quite a few times over now, the same one that you could never get used to. Okay, maybe this wasn't as intense as certain times it had been used against him before, but that didn't change the fact that it still. Rather. Hurt. Being caught so off guard by it only left him with one option- fall to the ground screaming and twitching. When those few seconds of excruciating pain where up, James gasped for air, only to find it all knocked out of him from a hard blow to this stomach. He grunted, coiling instinctively around himself, though he knew he too would have to return fire or this didn't look good for him. The first spell that came to mind wasn't exactly one he had ever been a fan of. It was a low blow - literally - and he had had it used on him before, not to mention having someone physically do the same to him in the past. But this guy had crucio'd him, so in his eyes there was no room for regret as he rolled onto his back some while forcing himself to move against limbs that said otherwise, directly pointing his wand and, "Doleo Testis!" There was no time to wait for a response as he rolled back far enough, only to scramble up onto shaky feet. Although Constantine vowed to not use his voice unless he absolutely had to in these situations (his reputation as a DJ was just so precious, you see), he could not keep his sentiments to himself when he felt the full force of James's curse. "Fucking shit!" He grabbed his balls in a very undignified way, as though this would make it better. Falling to his knees, eyes watering behind his mask, he tried to push his way through the nausea he was now feeling. "Fucking prick," He muttered. It was the sort of hex you'd expect from a girl, not a guy who would know how it feels. Asshole! Stan had a right mind to get up and kick this kid repeatedly in the nads until he broke him, but as one low blow deserves another, he had something else in mind. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" He whipped his wand from his place crouched on the ground. Clearly, Stan did not take kindly to people damaging his testicles. Part of James really couldn't blame the other's reaction, and it took quite a feat of strength not to cringe when the other hit the ground. The fact still remained that this was a Death Eater, though, and so yet again there truly wasn't that much sympathy lost for him. Especially not with what he pulled out next. He was still shaky and twitchy, but ready to throw up a shield charm when he heard that first syllable leave the lips of the other. Yeah, okay, so not even a really brilliant shield charm was going to block that. There was only one option really- duck out of the way. And QUICKLY. He didn't even really have time to think about where the best place would be to get out of the way, and went with the first he saw. Literally diving into the small alleyway, he swore he had felt the force from that spell-light whizzing past him. While his opponent couldn't see him, James also couldn't see his adversary, which wasn't something he liked very much. Analytic thinking wasn't his forte, but impulsiveness he had in spades, and so when his eyes landed on a wooden packing pallet propped up against the entrance of the passageway, he got an idea. Use your environment to your advantage they had been told in training, and he hadn't really seen how that could truly come in handy until this moment now. Pushing himself up to stand, he quickly levitated the packing pallet that wasn't that large - but hopefully enough to do some damage - and dared to duck his head out long enough to see where he needed to be aiming, then whipping the pallet towards the Death Eater as hard as he could with a deft flick of his wrist. He'd love to watch it slam into the other, but on the off chance it was blocked, he shrank back once more. Constantine stood up just as James dove out of the way, missing where his target went. There was plenty of action going on around them, so much that Stan could have walked away and found someone else to fight, but this little ball-kicking kid had irked him and he wanted to finish the job. Unable to see where the younger man went, however, Stan began to turn to find another opponent. He heard something whizzing towards him, and only had a split second to dive out of the way, causing the pallet to shatter against his shoulder painfully. Swearing again, Stan wasted no time in running quietly in the direction in which the pallet had come from. He pressed himself up against the wall, listening carefully, and there - he heard breathing. Stan dove into the alley, and while he wasn't expecting James to be so near to the mouth of the alley, he still swung out in time to grab the front of his shirt and bring his knee up in between James's legs, not quite hitting the mark. Stan dug his fist into James's stomach and pushed him away from the wall, throwing him into the narrow space in front of them. The knowledge that that pallet had hit the bastard somewhere made him think he should be ready again for retribution, though honestly thought it would come in the form of another spell. Well, they'd already been through a Cruciatus and a Killing Curse, so he was kind of hoping it wouldn't be an Imperius. To his knowledge, he'd never been under the influence of one, but did think it'd be too much fun from his end of the equation. Renowned for his act now, think later approach to life, it was almost odd that he stayed put exactly where he was. Breathing heavily and trying to fight through the twitches and pangs of lingering pain that pinched his muscles, he stood there pressed up against the wall and listened for some sign of the other. When he heard it, though it was in the form of Stan diving at him. Well, shit. James tried to jump out of the way, but found the other had a firm grip on the front of his shirt, though enough years of taunting and harassing Lily helped him to maneuver out of the way of that intended to to his own family jewels. Always a good thing. A fist swung out ineffectively to ward back the other, though before he had any time to really process what to do, he found himself thrown back into the small alleyway. On his back with the other looming over him, he decided he could fight dirty too if that's what this arsehole wanted. There wasn't as much force as there could have been behind it due to a sudden leg spasm, but it didn't stop James from slamming the heel of his right foot into Constantine's adjacent knee. Along with a grunted, "Fuck you," for a little oomph. Not even fully up onto his elbows, he decided it might not be good to leave himself completely prone if that didn't work as he intended. Raising his wand once more, he pointed it towards the other's neck and shot a stream of boiling hot water his way. Stan toppled over when James kicked his knee, collapsing against the wall of the alley and swearing again under his breath. He did not have long to ponder on the pain to his knee when James followed through with boiling water. Constantine yelled when the water hit him, quickly rolling out of the way. He pointed his wand at himself and doused his neck with cold water, but he guessed through the searing, blistering pain that he was already at a second degree burn. The way his voice had croaked out a scream made him wonder if his precious voice was ruined, but he had no time to dwell on what that might do to his career. If he wasn't successful today, he might not even live to regret it. Infuriated and livid, Stan pointed his wand at James's chest and croaked out "Ossis Quasso!" His lack of a voice made it less effective than he would have liked, so he followed it up with a roundhouse kick to the chest, effectively kicking James out of the alley. Stan's anger was ripe, more than it had ever been and he forced another curse out of his raw throat, "Ignis Inflatus!" Well that seemed pretty effective...ish. In retrospect, James was thinking maybe he should have just aimed a little higher directly at the other's stupid, gaping mouth to force him to rely on those non-verbal spells- he couldn't know that many of them, could he? Or not, maybe it was for the best that he could at least still hear what was coming his way being rasped. Okay, fine, perhaps he should not get caught up in the details of the duel and actually focus on THE DUEL. It sounded like a pretty good idea, to James. Even if the other hadn't been having a hard time speaking, he wouldn't have recognized that spell. As for its effect? He could more or less guess it had something to do with broken bones. He managed to slip out of the way so that he missed the full brunt of it, though the wall now at his shoulder wouldn't let him out of the line of it entire. A guttural yell was stuck in his throat as the spell barely grazed him at chest height, and he hoped he was just overreacting with the thought that it felt like his ribs had just been shattered. This arse didn't really want to give him the time to figure it out, but it was kind of rude for him to then deliver a blow to more or less the same area! His breath effectively knocked out of him from the combination of that curse to the ribs and then that kick, James found himself down on the ground once more and it appeared it might take him a bit longer to get up this go round. Oh wait. Nevermind. Fire. Ignoring any pain for a split second, he managed to roll enough into the space afforded by the street so the it was only the edge of his robes that caught that on fire. That was the least of his problems right now, though. Finding himself on his side bearing down on those crushed ribs was not how he wanted to stay for long, but then he had an idea when those hazel eyes landed on that now broken packing pallet. Were it under different circumstances, he would have chuckled at his brilliance, but as it stood all he did was transfigure the two closest pieces of cracked wood into a small, yet considerable, swarm of bees. Then came the fun part! "Oppugno!" With the bees now hellbent on attacking the Death Eater, he hoped he'd have enough time to put out those flames licking dangerously close to his person. Stan's eyes widened behind his mask when he saw the swarm of bees coming for him. Even in the midst of his panic, he was impressed by the transfiguration. Luckily, he was covered from head to toe in robes and his mask covered his head, so the bees merely blinded him for a moment. The answer was simple - he used Aguamenti to drown the bees, then followed James out of the alley. He was in a lot of pain - his neck was getting worse, and his tight robes weren't helping - but he was not going to evacuate. He would have sooner died there in battle than give in and face punishment later. Unlike James, Stan wasn't going for creativity bonus points. He simply wanted to make this kid hurt. Following him out of the alley, Stan waved his wand like a sword, relying on his non-verbal spells rather than use his already ragged voice. He used Scindo, not only once but three times, slashing James again and again in case his non-verbal magic was not strong enough. Damnit, why hadn't he gone with transfiguring dragons or something? Granted that right now he didn't have the time for that, and more than likely would have needed a lot more broken wood, but regardless, that had been mildly anti-climatic. As the now seared and stung Death Eater advanced, James threw up a shield charm because he knew there was going to be an attack back for that. Even he would have been at least slightly pissed to have a swarm of bees thrown his way. The first Scindo bounced harmlessly off his shield, though the second managed to break through and caught him across his right shoulder, though it didn't do that much damage. No, that was the third one that caught him along his left thigh. After having had his arm magically cut into repeatedly not too long ago, he didn't even need to look to know this gash was more than just superficial. It thankfully hadn't gone close enough to anything such as, oh, his femoral artery, but it didn't change the fact that it was deep. And Merlin, painful. He immediately shifted his weight to his right leg, knowing he'd have to heal that as soon as possible, which meant first getting away from or rid of this Death Eater. Hopefully the damage to the properties around this all would be helpful in overlooking what he did next. Hobbling to the side - as he could feel his shoe filling with his own blood - a few steps James kept his free hand applying pressure to that wound with his robes, while his wand was trained on Constantine. When out of bounds enough to pull off what he wanted, he sent a simple enough spell to break the large store window, though before all of the pieces of shattered glass even had time to hit the ground, he launched the majority of them towards the other. And then he took off down another alleyway the fastest he could, which wasn't saying much. He didn't care if the Death Eater had actually gotten hit full force with that, because he knew it would be enough to distract someone even momentarily. That was all he needed to get away so he could tend to this cut. Evan vs Edgar Keeping his wand held out defensively, Edgar was frantically scanning the fighting for a flash of red or blonde hair - or for anyone he recognised - when he was distracted by a Death Eater running through the crowds, hugging close to the line of shops. He immediately struck out with his wand, forcefully striking the Death Eater to send him flying off his feet to knock into the shop door - which happened to be ajar, rather than closed shut, as Edgar had presumed. Damnit. Ducking a Stunner, he ran into the shop where the Death Eater had been thrown. Well that was new. One moment Evan was out looking for another fight and the next moment he was dragging himself up off the floor and leaning against one of the supports for the empty pub he'd landed in. It would be a bruise at the worst but he figured he might as well heal it before tossing himself back out into the fray. His wand glowed as he cast a spell to keep swelling and pain to a minimum when someone came through the door wand up. Edgar Bones. Of fucking course. "Protego! Expelliarmus! Glacius! Diffindo!" One spell to protect himself and three warning shots at Edgar. That was all he was going to get before Evan started with the Unforgivables this time. Edgar flung up his own shield charm, scowling at the verbal incantations for such basic spells - was the Death Eater a complete rookie? The spells smashed into his defenses, rebounding into the adjacent wall and shattering a stray glass left on the bar counter. Wand raised, he cast a silent impedimenta, immediately followed by, "Scindo internum!" Rookie or not, he was not going to go easy on him. If Edgar was one thing it was consistent. But Evan had seen that spell before and had been expecting it. The first spell deflected with his protego, though he hadn't seen it coming and the second he blocked. He very nearly called over to tell Edgar to knock off using healing spells but then realized he could fight with the same game. Evan wasn't incredibly skilled with non-verbal magic but the non-verbal spells he could use were almost entirely surgical. Immobulus lacerum. The muscle paralyzing spell, shot at Edgar's wand arm silently. Evan knew spells, he knew so many spells, but he was still having trouble casting them at Edgar. It was a weakness and if his father or Bella ever found out he would be in massive amounts of trouble, but right now didn't seem like a good time to practice blood boiling. Not yet anyway. "Scindo Internum!" It was only fair to return it, aimed not at Edgar's abdomen but at his thigh, before using his wand to send a table sailing toward him. The non-verbal spell caught him completely unawares. One minute his wand was pointed at the Death Eater, and the next thing he knew it was falling out of his hand, his arm hanging unresponsively by his side. What the-- Of all the Death Eaters, he had to pick another healer. He didn't have time to think before pain was cutting deep into his leg; he dropped down to the ground, clumsily snatching at his wand with his splinted right hand and knocking the table back at the Death Eater. That bought him enough time to counter the paralysis in his wand arm, feeling returning with sharp pins and needles burning up and down his muscle. Swapping his wand into his dominant hand, his right arm burning from being used, he threw the air loss curse at him, the one Emmeline had taught them all, coupling it with a hefty blow aimed for his diaphragm. He quickly turned his attention to his leg, hastily doing what he could to repair the torn muscle and veins; it wasn't perfect, but it would be enough to be going on with. Scrambling to his feet, he slashed his wand down, casting obscuro and incarcerous in quick succession. Evan hadn't been expecting the table to come flying back toward him so though he slashed at it with his wand, separating it into two parts, he didn't have time to duck out of the way entirely and ended up taking half a table to his left arm and shoulder. It knocked him backwards onto his arse and it gave Edgar plenty of time apparently to heal himself up enough to cast more. The air loss curse hit him though the blow to the abdomen missed and Evan's only saving grace as he attempted to force air back into his lungs was that Edgar was having a hell of a time healing his leg apparently. And then Evan drew in a heavy gasp just as he saw Edgar swing his arm up. He was expecting spells when Edgar's wand moved and he blocked the first but couldn't entirely block the second and ropes sprang up around one of Evan's leg, forcing him to cast a Finite Incantatum before trying anything else. But the time for being decent to Edgar had passed, because Edgar wasn't being decent to him and so this time the slicing spells he sent at Edgar were aimed at more varied areas and followed with blasting hexes. Now that Edgar knew he was fighting a healer - and knowing full well how dirty they could fight - he was more prepared by the barrage of spells sent his way; but even so, there were too many to block completely. Pain erupted deep in his right shoulder, as the muscle around the socket was sliced into, causing him to yell out. Even as he tried to deflect the damage, the force of the curses was enough to knock him backwards, slamming his spine into a table, his vertebrae clicking and fuck that hurt. Righting himself, his breathing laboured, he sliced his wand down. "De- Detrimentum lacertosus!" Knowing that the man behind that mask was almost certainly Evan, coupled with the burning cramp seizing hold of his shoulder, caused him to falter in the spell. Evan was surprised by the spell. If Edgar hadn't faltered on his own it probably would have hit just fine because that was a really fucking nasty thing to cast at a person. Nasty enough for Evan to be done with any loyalty he'd been holding on to. He wasn't even masking his voice, how could Edgar not know it was him. So when he cast the next spell, he wasn't fucking around anymore. "Ebullisangius!" Bella's blood boiling curse. With only two practices though and a pang of guilt as he pictured the faces of all three of Edgar's children Evan waved off the hex he'd thrown within a second of it landing. "Crucio!" At least it wouldn't kill him. Edgar didn't recognise that incantation - how the hell was he supposed to go about blocking it? He didn't know what it did let alone how to-- And then it didn't matter what that ebulli-something spell was intended for, because it was replaced with something Edgar did recognise but couldn't block. He barely heard the sound of him screaming; all he could focus on was the agonising pain burning through his whole body, driving white hot knives into every inch of him. Right then, nothing else existed but the pain. Sweat chilling his spine, he lay panting on the ground, not entirely sure how he had ended up there or where the hell he was. As the aches ebbed out of his muscles, his brain sluggishly kicked back into gear, his hand reactively shooting out to grab at the wand he'd dropped. "Some neighbour you are," he slurred, pulling himself up to his knees and casting an uncertain bone-shattering curse at Evan's kneecaps, his wand arm shaking from the after effects of the cruciatus. "You tried to permanently paralyze me!" Evan protested, before he realized perhaps it wasn't the wisest thing in the world to flat out admit it was him. But if he was going to hell he might as well go in a fancy handbasket. "I could have killed you with the other spell but I thought better of it. Your kids faces saved your life, Edgar." Evan managed to deflect the shaky bone-shattering spell and then he raised his wand toward Edgar's face. "We don't need to fight each other. We both have people who need looking after. Lower your wand." "Says the man with his wand in my face," he shot back immediately. He kept his wand up, leaning back against the table and dragging himself to his feet. The pain in his ripped shoulder muscles was growing, perspiration pooling at the base of his spine; he needed to heal the damage Evan had done and then he needed to get back out there and look after the kids. He dipped his wand tip slightly, completely mistrustful of Evan considering he'd just executed a cruciatius on him, and made a move sideways towards the door. "Heal yourself before you leave," Evan chided. He dipped his wand ever so slightly as well, ready in an instant to snap it back up and hex Edgar into the floor if that's what it took. "I didn't let you live just to have you stagger out the door and get yourself killed." He edged in front of Edgar, focused intently on any move the man might make. "And if I find out you've told anyone you've seen me, the truce is off. If you want to believe the worst of me, then do it, and don't think I'm bluffing when I say that things would get unpleasant, and I don't want that. That cruciatus lasted a ten count. That's nothing com--" Evan trailed off at a loud noise and the sounds to screaming outside. "Got to see if that's mine or yours. I'll see you around." Glaring at Evan for the sheer cheek of telling him when to heal himself, he jerked his head towards the door, motioning for him to bugger off. "Hopefully not," he muttered to himself when Evan had left, sinking his weight back against the table. He pressed the tip of his wand heavily into his torn muscles, gritting his teeth as the fibres pulled back together as quickly as he could urge them to. His shoulder working again, he strengthened the splint on his useless arm, steeled himself and ran back into the fray. |