Mod Journal for Throwing Stones RPG (throwing_mods) wrote in throwingstones, @ 2010-04-17 18:30:00 |
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Rooky vs James James was immensely relieved to have gotten away from that Death Eater, and couldn't help but wonder in passing if those glass shards sent his way had done any damage. He really, really hoped so considering the injuries he had sustained. His ribs on his left side were aching something awful, as well as he figured there might be some bruising from that kick to the stomach. The most paramount of his injuries at the moment appeared to be the gash across the middle of his left thigh. It was bleeding pretty profusely, and James was no Healer, but did know this could definitely do more ban than good in the long run if he didn't get it taken care of soon. The alley he had gone down forked, and he soon again found himself nearly out in the open as it quickly led to the street, again. No, no he didn't really feel like risking another duel while in this state. Backtracking a bit, enough so that he could however keep an eye on the entrance to the alley, he leaned back against brick wall and began to use that healing spell they had all learned at Eddie's impromptu Healing meeting. This was easier said that done seeing as he was still shaking and twitching from being crucio'd, and wouldn't you know it? It was actually not as hard to perform this while listening to Alice taunt him, rather than being equally distracted by the pain wracking his body now. A thoroughly pained laugh left his lips at the irony of it all. Augustus was generally not terribly interested in duelling. He was perfectly willing to fight and kill for the Cause, but it was far from his strong suit. So as it was, he was perfectly content with wandering around the back alleys of Hogsmeade, killing civilians almost indiscriminately as he moved on the periphery of the battle. The Outer Circle could deal with most of the idiots that insisted on defending the town. The boy he found attempting to heal his own leg was no different. Augustus was almost bored, really. He found massacres generally tedious, better left to the enthusiasm of the younger generation. He did not actually have the patience and energy for this. So he almost sighed his twentieth Avada Kedavra of the evening. Having to rely on his own healing know how for the first time in battle was quite the feat, but thankfully he managed to get to this wound soon enough. And thankfully, this spell appeared to be working fair enough considering his shaky hand. And-- shit. Maybe he had heard the Death Eater coming, or maybe it was just some ability to sense danger coming into play, but thankfully James looked up just in time to see the hooded figure come into view. None too soon before he saw the flash of green light. Okay, yeah, he still wasn't a fan of Killing Curses flying at him. It may not have been under the best circumstances, but there were really other no options as James abandoned healing that gash and threw himself down to the ground, narrowly missing that curse. He yelled from the pain of those shattered ribs driving further into the muscle underneath, but there was no time to act like a poof now and bitch about injuries! Working through that pain, he directed his wand towards the one that had just tried to kill him. It was never something you got used to. "Expelliarmus! Flagrate!" Two spells for the price of one, oh you lucky, lucky Death Eater. Augustus felt a small amount of exasperation. How he hated it when he was in a hurry and people simply wouldn't die when they were told to. Fighting was so messy. Nonetheless, he was resigned to his fate - for the next couple of minutes - and he bypassed he spells that were directed at him (honestly, the boy had practically screamed them). Now that he was here though, he supposed he might as well have fun with it. He put a shield around him just long enough to take a good look at who was so insistent on staying alive, immediately finding weak points. The leg of course. And he'd screamed when he'd hit the ground, so something was hurting him. Oh and those glasses. He could deal with those right now. With a simple flick, he vanished them right off of the young boy's face. And for Salazar's sake, he couldn't have been any older than his own youngest son. Idiot boy. With that out of the way though, he cast a blasting hex at him. Or near him, as was more the point. He wanted to make him move to see just what he could exploit. James had nothing against a good duel, but honestly would prefer for it to be under much more controlled circumstances. He'd gotten pretty banged up in practice, but then at least had the assurance that even Caradoc more than likely wouldn't be trying to actually kill him. It did come in handy, though, when it came time to duel a Death Eater. He would rather hate to have found himself in this predicament before he'd had nearly a year with the Order. His spells may not have hit, and he may have been in pain, but he wasn't just going to roll over and take this. Of course it couldn't be simply as easy as that. Bloody fucking Death Eaters... Without his glasses, James really couldn't see more than a foot or so in front of his face clearly. As was now the case as he found they hadn't simply fallen, but they were completely gone. This did nothing for turning the tables in his direction. Especially when that blasting hex was sent his way, or rather near him. Relying more on his own athletic prowess than a shield, he managed to push himself up on one knee, but that appeared to do more harm than good in the long run. The force of the spell was enough to push him over, his left side slamming hard against the wall that hadn't been to far from where he'd flung himself. His shoulder caught the brunt of the force, sending a wave of pain down his arm, but it was his abdomen that followed through. Each hit sent those fragments and shards of what had been his ribs closer and closer to vital organs, and what had been a "nuisance" was quickly becoming something that was slowing down his movements. Each breath was hell, but it wasn't going to stop him from playing tit for tat as he'd taken to with these fuckers today. Again he managed to get to one knee - his right - before sending a raspy Reductor curse towards Augustus (who really looked more like a black blob set against the backdrop of brick red), as he was now using the wall more for support than anything. Augustus's eyes were critical, observant as he watched the young man push himself into some sort of fighting stance. Not that he would call standing on one's knees fighting in any form. Perhaps there was a problem with his feet or legs. Oh, no, it wasn't terribly sportsmanlike to make the child fight from the ground, but Augustus wasn't always one to play by the rules. The fact that he hadn't simply tried to kill him again was more than generous. Oh, he did have the occasional urge to play with his food. It was the curious scientist in him, really. He was still looking when the Reductor Curse sped towards him, and Augustus was admittedly a bit slow. It shoved him backwards, and with a grunt, he tripped on a stray bit of rubbish and promptly fell on his bottom. Pain shot up his hip and back, and he was not terribly pleased with the fact that he'd ended up on the ground as well. Augustus internally grumbled, cursing his age and reflexes - which was a poorly drawn excuse and he knew it - and cast a bone-shattering close at the boy across from him. At the very least, maybe it would give him enough time to get back on his feet. You know, James really wouldn't have had anything against being on his feet during this duel, but that did seem to be quite the herd feat, all things considered. Any glee that might have come about from the knowledge that his spell - he might not have been able to see all that well, but could still hear just fine when combined with shoddy vision - had tossed the other back on his slimy arse disappeared when the chance of him getting up became impossible. Dragging himself up to almost be on his feet with the help of the wall, it was all for naught when that bone shattering curse hit him directly in his right hip. He still had no idea what exactly was being done to his skeleton with that curse, but remembered the still present pain that also existed in his battered ribs as he cried out even louder than before. For the split second he continued to bear weight on his splintered hip, he was in so much pain that James swore he may have momentarily lost consciousness. The aburpt fall back onto the ground shocked him back into reality. His leg should not have been bent like that. He'd seen broken bones contorting his anatomy before, but this... just... No, there was no time to think about that. Well, not that he was entirely capable of such a thing like that at the moment. There wasn't much more abuse his body could take, and it was apparent by the way he was starting to shake. Still, he wasn't going to simply give up. It wasn't as if he was dead. Squinting, he could make out that the Deather eater was also floored. In that case, it sounded like a good idea to fucking crush the twat. "De-Deprimo." Between how he was shaking and the near flub of the incantation, James wasn't even sure it'd hit, but he hoped so. He really, really hoped so. And if not, as many slashing hexes as he could get out in a single breath - four weaker ones to be exact - were sent towards the other, as well. Augustus did finally manage to get to his feet, rubbing his hip with his left hand. Once again, he found himself distracted and not quite paying attention - he'd saw his spell hit, and really, he wasn't expecting the boy to get up again - and it was only at the last moment that he realised there was another hex flying at him. He moved to dodge out of the way, but he was slow in his reflexes, and the spell collided with his hand. He couldn't help but cry out under the force of it, several bones splintering and breaking in his right hand. His wand fell to the ground, and he moved as quickly as he could to scoop it up. Somewhere behind him, he heard a vague commotion, a cry of Dumbledore. Augustus's eyes narrowed behind his mask as his gaze flicked to his old Transfiguration teacher. One after the other, the slashing hexes hit him across the chest and abdomen, and it was then finally, that Augustus turned his attention back to boy. "Pulsus Latus," he snapped finally, giving an awkward sort of slash with his left hand. It was unsteady, and though purple burst from his wand, there was no guarantee as to the actual strength of the curse. Augustus didn't even bother to see if it hit it's target. He couldn't carry on fighting - especially not Dumbledore - without his wand hand, and he apparated with a short pop. James heard that shout too, but wasn't exactly in any place to rejoice at the arrival of his old Headmaster. His eyes had closed momentarily to grit his teeth as he heard that cry from Augustus, and quite hoped another Killing Curse wasn't going to be pulled out. Or a Cruciatus, that would smart, though it might be preferable to the former. What the Death Eater did whip out was not something James had ever run across before, and for that he could thank his lucky stars. Or maybe not seeing as he was going to endure that chest-crushing curse, however reduced, right this moment. If he had thought breaking a few ribs was bad, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his entire rib cage trying to become best friends with his spine. James' first reaction was to try and get a deep breath, but found he could only wheeze as those newly cracked ribs, sternum and all joined alongside his previously shattered ribs to make breathing extremely difficult. Trying to shift his shoulders against the wall only caused him to groan, missing that tale-tell sound the disapparating Death Eater had made as he exited the scene. Okay, maybe a Killing Curse still wouldn't have been preferable, but it had to be less painful than this! Each shallow breath sent waves of pain shooting throughout his entire body as he leaned his head back and tried to figure out how the hell he was going to get out of this mess. Well, if he still had a chance to get out of this mess as his hand fumbled towards his pocket for his portkey. Sabriel & Severus vs Remus A break. That's all he needed -- just a moment to catch his breath, and he'd be ready to get back in the fight. But that was the problem; Remus was having trouble getting enough air after whatever it was that Evan had done to him, and as he ducked into an alley he was wheezing and gasping, clutching at his chest. He wasn't sure he should keep fighting, but then, he also wasn't sure he had a choice. The rest of the Order was still out there -- he couldn't leave yet. Not until they drove the Death Eaters out. When he started to cough again he brought the sleeve of his robes up to cover his mouth, wet blood soaking into the cloth around his arm. When he felt like his breathing was under control again, he pushed himself back out into the fray, eyes scanning the streets for the nearest man in a mask and dark robes. When he spotted a Death Eater near the building just in front of him, he slashed his wand and manipulated the vines plastered against the brick wall, lashing out like thorny whips toward the Death Eater's back. Once Black was gone and Aston had skipped merrily off to cause more destruction and mayhem, Severus found himself in search of something more entertaining than watching the town burn down around him. He supposed he was supposed to be finding and taking note of vigilantes, so he set off in search of more people. The town seemed mostly vacated of any but his comrades and those who cared to fight against them by now, anyway. Passing by an alley, Severus stopped abruptly when he felt a sharp stinging at his back. He swore and jumped aside. Great, was he bleeding? Severus didn't stop and reach back to check, not before he turned his wand on and incinerated the flora that had attacked him, rendering the vines nothing more than ash. And when it was gone, Severus noticed who, exactly, had been puppeting them. Well, now. First Black, now Lupin? Severus's day just kept getting better. They never did seem to grasp the concept of complete destruction, though bless their hearts they did try. Sabriel would chalk to it up to experience as the factor, so it was with a combination of frustration at their incompetence and pleasure in the prospect of duelling, that he apparated along with the rest of his fellow Inner Circle, to help their young ones move this along. Within moments of apparation Sabriel's gaze was caught by one of their own nearly bound by an attack of vines sent by someone Sabriel did not recognise. "Well done," he applauded, as he observed the Death Eaters defencive move, and stepped closer. His eyes strayed from the mask so like his own to the young man who was breathing heavily, the wheezing sound too telling. "My, you are in a bad way aren't you?" He lifted his wand and with loftiness, tossed a well aimed Incendio towards Mr. Lupin, it's target the wound already on his arm. He studied with careful ease, really having no recollection of the young man. "Are you acquainted?" he asked to the other Death Eater, a pleasant conversationalist. The aim was right on target -- but when Severus had not attacked immediately, Remus had been given enough time to react to the second Death Eater's arrival and his spell. He deflected the flames with a shield spell and retaliated before the heat around him from the fire had gone, sending a blasting hex at Sabriel before turning back to face Severus, although unaware just who it was he was duelling with. With a forceful flick of his wand the door of the shop next to them splintered and snapped off its hinges, and then he sent the heavy wood flying toward Severus, following it up with an incendio of his own. Severus's eyebrows raised behind his mask, when he was joined by a member of the Inner Circle. Save Rodolphus, he generally only spoke to the higher-ups when they required his services, and hadn't ever interacted much with Aston's father. He seemed very...congenial. Which didn't mean Severus wasn't slightly wary of him nonetheless. He nodded slightly in response to Sabriel's query, but was distracted from further conversation by Lupin retaliating to his companion's spell. Finding a rather large and fiery object being flung toward him, Severus ducked instinctively, even as his wand pointed toward it, blasting it into smaller pieces and then tossing up a shield to keep any of the debris from connecting. Severus scowled, and then turned his wand toward Lupin, sending another blasting curse his way. Sabriel was expecting the young man to lash out, it was as any cornered animal would do, but the vigour with which he did caught Sabriel momentarily off guard. The blasting hex hit him in the shoulder, and while it did not propel him backwards, it did cause him to pitch sideways onto the ground, a dull throb told him that there was likely a tendon or ligament torn. Irritation had him gritting his teeth. He would forgive the boy his tenacity, but he was unimpressed. Shards of wood rained down upon him, and Sabriel dismissed them as he righted his posture. As soon as Severus had parried back a blasting hex, Sabriel followed with a quiet "Crucio" using the young man’s distraction to his advantage. "This won’t do," he stepped closer, his impassive tone betraying the violence of his thoughts as he directed them to Remus. Without breaking eye contact, Sabriel called to his colleague, "who is this man?" Remus, although he tried to keep his attention on both of the Death Eaters at once, knew he was outnumbered -- especially in his injured condition. He was already reconsidering his thoughts of retreating, but now that he had drawn the attention of these two men he knew that was going to be difficult. While he had heard the question the older Death Eater asked his ally, the werewolf had been unable to see Severus' response through the debris of the burning shards of wood -- he was still unaware just who the younger Death Eater was. The next two spells flew toward him faster than he could react; he had only been prepared for one, and as he heard Severus' spell first it was the blasting hex he deflected with another shield charm. He tried to take in another breath to protect himself from the second spell, but his lungs betrayed him -- and he barely had enough breath left to scream when the Crutiatus Curse hit him. Remus collapsed to the ground, his wand rolling just out of his reach and magic the last thing on his mind; there was only blinding agony, and all he could do was scream and gasp for air. Severus stood up straight, watching Sabriel torture his old classmate, his heart pounding with adrenaline. For a moment, he just stared at Lupin writhing on the ground, marvelling at how surreal this situation was. How often had Severus longed to see him and his friends get what they deserved? Any satisfaction was dulled with some sort of shock, though. He was just a bit numb, somehow. He stepped closer to his superior, his eyes not leaving Lupin's figure. Well, it didn't matter, even if Lupin happened to have enough presence of mind to recognise his voice at the moment. Black had recognised him earlier; he was caught out already. "Remus Lupin," Severus replied to Sabriel's question. Sabriel's eyebrows rose in interest at Lupin's name, recognising him not only from the poison testing but by the fact that he was now orphaned. He'd posed among the more consistent vigilantes that they'd encountered. Sabriel did find Severus' almost captivated staring rather interesting as well, perhaps he knew Mr. Lupin more personally. Hm. The cruciatus curse ended with a powerful burst of violent thought and Sabriel watched for a moment as the young man regained his sense. "Up, Mr. Lupin," Sabriel ordered and kicked Remus' wand closer to him. "Another opportunity for your life," and he nodded for Snape to begin. He was dimly aware of the wooden wand rolling across the ground to stop against his hand through the haze of pain; Remus had heard the younger Death Eater speak, the voice sounding so familiar -- a voice he was certain he'd heard once or twice when he was visiting Marlene at Slug and Jiggers Apothecary. A voice he knew from Hogwarts. He grit his teeth together as he grabbed his wand and struggled back up to his feet, forcing his body to keep moving despite how much he just wanted to lay there. He didn't understand what the pair of Death Eaters were playing at, giving him another chance to fight back, but Remus took the opportunity he was given. "Severus?" Remus sounded unsure when he said the name, not completely positive he had heard the man's voice accurately during the Crutiatus Curse, but he supposed it didn't matter. Regardless of who it was, they were still a Death Eater -- and that's all he had to know. But, this was someone who had been in the same year as he had in Hogwarts. They had grown up together in the same school, even if they hadn't been friends. And now here they were, in the middle of the streets of Hogsmeade engaged in a duel that could possible cost his life. Remus almost didn't want to keep fighting. He almost wanted to just run. But then he remembered that Severus had likely been involved in the kidnappings. What else had he been involved in? Had he killed? The hesitation was gone. "Usto Oculus! Deprimo!" he cried hoarsely, wand aimed at Severus, before he whirled his wand back on Sabriel and cast several slashing hexes in his direction. Severus did not respond to Lupin's tentative call of his name, but it did snap him out of the amazed sort of daze he was in. With Black, he'd just been angry - Black had that effect on him. But here, given time to actually think about this... But he didn't actually have time, because Sabriel was expecting him to do something and he wasn't exactly sure what. What, were they going to duel for his amusement? Did he want to pop some fucking popcorn and watch them try to kill each other? Come to think of it, that might be what the Inner Circle did for amusement; it seemed suitably sinister to Severus's imagination. His shield charm flew up just a millisecond too late, and he was hit in the face with some charm that made his left eye feel like it was on fire. Severus hissed in pain as both eyes watered up. Blinking away the tears from his right eye and keeping the other clenched firmly shut, he dropped his shield long enough to fire at Lupin again. "Confringo! Sectumsempra!" Sabriel's shield was up too quickly for the first few slashing hexes to get through, but on the last he faltered. With a grunt Sabriel could feel blood begin seeping through his robes where the slashing hex had hit his side and shoulder. It was nothing a healing spell couldn't fix quickly enough so it went unnoticed, though his right arm felt limp against his body. He'd wanted this to serve as some sort of lesson, though the amusement was there. He didn't want to simply kill the boy, Snape deserved his fair chance. Though he was hardly going to accomplish that whilst being blinded. Casting "Glacius" at the ground of Remus' feet, Sabriel then aimed a blasting hex at the wound that was still ripe on Mr. Lupin's arm. It would go faster this way. Severus' first spell was just barely blocked -- it came so close that Remus had flinched when the spell hit his shield charm. And then he felt something cut deeply across his chest, another across his thigh, skin splitting open erratically across his body as blood quickly began soaking through his clothing. He nearly lost his footing as the ground became slick beneath his feet, but it was the blasting hex that did it; Remus was sent flying back off his feet to hit the ground hard. He tried to keep hold of his wand this time, but he felt it slip away from his fingers anyway, and as he tried to reach for his only weapon and means of self-defence he quickly discovered his arm had been broken when sharp pain shot through his body. Attempting to stand up did not seem any easier -- the slight shift of movement caused a moan of pain, and the world around him seemed so far away, a hazy place that almost made him feel like he was in a dream. When he flexed the fingers of his good hand he could feel the warm, slick blood pooling around his body, and with another violent cough he could taste it now, too, trickling down the sides of his mouth. His eyes still watering - and one still burning - Severus could not admire his handiwork as much as he might've liked. He didn't need both eyes to know the effects of his spell, though, and knew that Lupin wouldn't be getting up anytime soon, especially with Sabriel's spells thrown into the mix. He wondered how he felt about the fact that Lupin might die here today - even if he and the other Death Eater didn't finish him off, he could very well bleed to death if nobody found him. Severus wondered how long, exactly, Lupin had. Kneading his left eye (it only made the pain worse, and Severus dropped his hand quickly), he turned slightly toward Sabriel as though looking for orders, but his attention was caught by shouts and commotion coming from the other direction. He heard the name Dumbledore, and he froze at the thought of his former headmaster here. As much as Severus had never liked the man, he never wanted to face him in a duel. Severus might not, but Sabriel certainly did. Sabriel gave Lupin a cursory look, noting with satisfaction that the young Death Eater had done an impressive job of making the young man bleed. It was clear that he was not needed here anymore, and his interest in the two had waned considerably at hearing the Headmaster's name. Sabriel wasn't angered easily, murderously unsympathetic, but rarely enraged. Albus Dumbledore's ability to hinder Sabriel's attempt to control the Wizengamot, was one of those rare instances. "Do as you like," Sabriel held Severus' stare. He couldn't be bothered to wait and see what the young Death Eater would do, though he'd be interested in hearing of his choice afterwards. Though even if Snape simply left the boy, Mr. Lupin would be dead soon enough. "But do not make a mistake," he finished with a warning, weighted down by the suggestion of punishment should the outcome be unsatisfactory. Flashing an insouciant smile at the sight of a hemorrhaging Remus, Sabriel turned on his heel and departed. Severus nodded vaguely at Sabriel just before he departed, unsure if the older man even caught his acknowledgment before he left in search of more battle. Do as he liked? He supposed that was permission to kill him, if he felt so inclined, but... He just stood there for a moment, watching Lupin bleed. Really, he should just kill him, Severus thought. One less werewolf polluting society. His knuckle kneaded his eye again before he remembered how bad of an idea that had been, and he swore under his breath - not just because of the pain. Dumbledore was here, and his eye bloody well hurt, and okay fine, so he didn't know if he could actually kill Remus Lupin. If he just left him here and Lupin bled to death, he'd have as good as done it. So, finally looking away, Severus cursed a final time and turned, apparating out of Hogsmeade. Constantine vs Edgar & Gideon With his boss in the hospital, Gideon had more secretarial work than normal. He wasn't running about on errands but there was plenty of paperwork to sort and owls that were either answered or left for Gawain to deal with. He'd fallen into his routine fairly quickly and was spacing out and thinking about what he and Greta might be having for dinner when the call came in. Hogsmeade was under attack. There weren't many DMLE members that could actually report to the scene but the healthy ones did, leaving Gideon unattended. He flipped through his journal, saw the ward to the Order, and quickly decided that he would be more helpful in battle than he would be sorting mail, so he quickly followed suit. By the time he arrived there was already mass destruction and spells being flung around. He recognised everyone fighting, both DMLE and Order, and he pulled off his Ministry badge, shoved it in his pocket, and jumped straight in to the fight with a blasting hex aimed for a taller looking Death Eater. Stan had just cut James mercilessly and was about to bear down on him when James shattered the window, sending the shards of glass down on him. He hastily waved his wand to deflect the glass, but a large chunk tore through his robes into his upper arm. Stan hissed at the pain and was reaching to pull it out when Gideon's hex hit him, and he was knocked sideways onto the road. Who the hell did these kids think they were? Constantine ripped the shard of glass out of his arm and used a basic first aid charm to stem the bleeding, or at least slow it down. He was getting angry at the sheer nerve of these vigilantes, thinking they had the right to try and stop them. Stan hopped onto his feet, ignoring the pain in his knee where James kicked him. His throat was only getting more and more painful with every passing minute. He wanted to find Evan to get his assistance, but after his failure at the Prewett garden party, he felt more eager to fight until he passed out. At least he could not be called a failure. A quick glance told him that James was nowhere near, so Constantine turned his attention to whoever thought it would be just brilliant to blast him off his feet. He paused in his step when he saw the man in question, automatically thinking it was Fabian Prewett. He narrowed his eyes behind his mask, but then reassured himself that it must be the other Prewett, and wasn't that a wonderful piece of information. Since he had relative success with cutting James non-verbally, and since his voice no longer had the necessary strength to carry a curse, Stan decided that one good turn deserved another. His throat was really starting to burn now, he could almost feel the blisters forming on his neck, but he pushed past the pain and whipped his wand twice, sending a Scindo in the direction of the other Prewett brother. Trying to ignore the fact that he had just fought Rosier, Edgar was desperately trying to figure out where he was most needed, but it was utter confusion. Where was Lily? Or Emmeline, for that matter? He knew they were both competent at fighting, but the battle wasn't going well; the Death Eaters had them outnumbered and the Ministry were as useless as ever. He needed to find them and protect them. He ducked down as a red Stunner came his way, the spell ruffling his hair, and caught sight of Gideon fighting on his own. Jogging over as quickly as the pain searing through his broken arm would allow, he slashed his wand at the Death Eater's side, casting a non-verbal defluo and quickly glanced at Gideon; he didn't seem to be badly hurt, which was something at least. "You all right?" he asked tightly, his breathing heavy. His attention back on the Death Eater, Edgar struck out again, this time with an obscuro and incarcerous. Gideon carefully deflected Constantine's attack and then Edgar was standing next to him and though he wasn't in any real danger yet it was nice to have a team leader at his side. "I've only just arrived," he responded, taking a step closer to the older wizard. "The remaining DMLE got called in so I waited a beat and then sneaked out behind them. Thought I was more useful here than stacking the boss's mail." The moment he was done talking to Edgar he waved his own arm carefully and followed Edgar's spells with a stinging hex, the white light erupting from his wand and straight for Constantine's wand hand. The Other Prewett was quickly joined by a bushy browed man who Stan did not recognise, but who he instantly disliked. If it wasn't bad enough to have his throat burned and his voice compromised, this tall man decided to knock the wind out of him too. Stan gasped for breath, but it passed quicker than he had thought. A smirk crossed his face from under his mask - perhaps he was weakened. Even if he was weak, it seemed he wasn't going down easy. Stan had to think fast to block the hexes that were aimed at him, and he didn't have time to ponder over his two-against-one fight before The Other Prewett hit him with a stinging hex to the hand. Stan hissed and had to scramble not to drop his wand, cursing in his head. How juvenile! What sort of person above OWL level uses a stinging hex? Stan did not know who to attack first. Times like these, he wished he had two wands and was ambidextrous. He didn't even have time to play with his food, he had to act now. "Impedimenta!" He rasped at Edgar, his lip curling at how mangled his voice was. At least it wouldn't be recognised, and his career would not be in jeopardy. He followed this quickly by whipping his wand in the direction of Gideon, "Ossis quasso!" Edgar had barely caught his breath before he was knocked off his feet and hurled backwards. He landed on his right side, his shoulder and splinted arm taking the brunt of his weight. Involuntarily shouting out from the pain, he rolled as best he could onto his back, struggling to catch his breath. The white hot agony in his arm was unbearable. Hoping that Gideon could hold his own for a minute, he snatched at where his wand had fallen and pressed it into the crook of his elbow, numbing his broken arm as best he could manage. Pins and needles replaced the blinding pain, his swollen fingers seizing up with cramp, but it was tolerable. Scrambling to his feet, he directed as fairly hefty eye burning hex towards the Death Eater, shakily closing the distance between them to stand by Gideon's side once more. Edgar was thrown back rather quickly and Gideon glanced over his shoulder to make sure the older wizard was all right. He barely whipped his head back in time to see the light coming him, though he did manage to protect himself with a quickly muttered shield charm. Gideon wasn't sure what the Death Eaters spell did and he was fairly certain it was painful and so that was more than enough to make him not want to find out. Edgar was back at his side before long and Gideon was glad for it, so he dropped his shield and prepared for their next round of attacks. He concentrated for a moment and then used avis to conjure a murder of crows, which he then forced at Constantine with oppugno. The birds then formed into a tight group and dove for the Death Eater in an attempt to mildly harm or even just irritate the masked man, because while Gideon did believe the Death Eaters were the enemy and that they deserved to be punished, he was still grappling with the idea of inflicting pain on real people that stood only feet from him. Stan jumped out of the way of Edgar's hex just in time, but he felt like he had underestimated The Other Prewett as he deflected all of his advances. Frankly, he was tiring of Gideon's repeated efforts at evading him, so he did not put too much thought into his next move. Just as the crows were bearing down on him, Constantine put as much effort as he could behind his ragged voice and conjured up his second fireball of the day, shouting Ignis inflatus! As the birds burst into flame, screeching and crowing to death, the smell of their burning feathers filling the air, Stan decided to do to Gideon what he tried to do to him. He flicked his wand and directed the dead birds at him, flinging their dead carcases at the two vigilantes with a raspy, sinister laugh. It hurt. He stopped laughing. They were conjured birds, but birds just the same, so Gideon felt his heart stop as the birds caught on fire. You could be a Death Eater and not kill animals and Gideon was slightly offended and fairly certain he was going to have nightmares for weeks. Quickly Gideon threw up a shield to protect him and Edgar from the flaming birds, but he wasn't fast enough. Gideon felt the weight of one of the birds against his left arm and then there was heat. Lots of heat. The sleeve of Gideon's robe ignited and he flapped it wildly for a moment, not helping his cause at all, and he could feel his skin burning underneath the fabric. With a quick swipe of his wand he threw a slashing hex at Constantine and then brought the wand back to pour water over his flaming left arm. Edgar could quite honestly say he'd never seen ignited birds used as missles before today. A sudden barrage of shouts behind him instinctively made him look, and found himself staring at the intimidating figure of Albus Dumbledore. The division in reactions that his arrival had brought was almost comical to watch - those in masks instantly began shrinking away, whilst the bruised and battered Order stood tall once again. Dragging his attention off Albus as the Death Eater Disapparated with an alarmingly loud crack, he glanced down at Gideon's saturated, charred sleeved, taking it in his hand. "Reckon you could hold on for me?" he asked; the burn would be painful, there was no doubt about that, but Edgar needed to assess the damage they had taken, his eyes already darting around, desperately trying to work out exactly where to begin. Gideon gave Edgar a slow nod as he favoured his burned arm. He watched the healer for a bit and all that worry that had swirled through him earlier was now fading that Dumbledore had arrived. The Death Eaters were leaving, or most of them were, and after Edgar gave him a quick once over and at least dealt with the pain of the burn, they decided to split off to see what they could do as upright Order members. The battle part was over but there was still a lot of work that had to be done. |