Felix Greengrass (![]() ![]() @ 2010-04-22 22:15:00 |
![]() |
|||
![]() |
|
![]() |
|
![]() |
Entry tags: | ! complete, [april 1979], felix greengrass, gideon prewett, greta prewett, igor karkaroff |
Who: Felix Greengrass, Igor Karkaroff, Greta Prewett, guest appearance by Gideon Prewett
When: Thursday, 22 April, 1979
Where: Catchy Creations and Cafe
What: Crucios, cheering charms, slashing, cakes, and a deranged icing hippie clown
Rating: R
Status: Complete
"You look ridiculous," Felix laughed at Igor's expense, his fingers playing with a particularly large hole in the right elbow of his newly acquired frayed robes. Igor beside him looked almost identically dowdy, the two of them having decided to have a bit of fun for their assignment, unfortunately for it to be flawless it meant that they had to dress in the clothing of the poor. It was frightful. Truly. Acknowledged when the two had first sat down to discuss how exactly they were going to 'send a message', they would have to do this without being recognized. Obviously. However, it wasn't like the cupcake woman was going to simply let them into her store if they showed up in Death Eater attire, no matter how politely they knocked. Felix had discovered that he had a particular fondness for the oversized mustache he'd sported when kidnapping Zamira, and the idea had sprung from there. They would transfigure their appearances and resemble completely different people, and if they were seen it could never be traced back to them. Felix sincerely doubted Greta Prewitt would be any help to anyone once they were through with her, but if being punished several times over the past few months has taught him anything, it was to take precautions. And also to kill Selwyn. Of course it had seemed a good idea in theory, now Felix wasn't enjoying the cheap wardrobe so much. "I look ridiculous," he amended, as his smirk dropped of his face and he scrunched up his nose at the reflection in the small hand held mirror he'd retrieved from his pocket. Thick set eyebrows and friendly gray eyes stared back at him, but Felix wasn't convinced. His hair wasn't right, it was black and spongy, but it didn't really go with the elephant ears he'd just given himself. His new sloping nose that settled over a thin mouth, was an improvement to his own though, not like he'd ever admit that to anyone. "Do you think I would look better with longer hair? Maybe waves..." he trailed off as they stopped at the mouth of the alleyway a block from Greta's store. Waves would cover the ears, and he'd always wanted his hair to bounce. The way Felix was carrying on, all Igor wanted was for his partner to shut up. "We are here for murder, not for winning of a beauty contest," he muttered, keeping his voice low on the off chance that somebody might hear their conversation, his eyes shifting this way and that to be on guard, looking very suspicious despite himself. Igor had magically grown a full beard, which he thought made him look like a Russian Orthodox priest, and he ran his fingers along the coarse hair as a nervous habit. Spots covering his face, pair of glasses with thick, but fake, lenses and a pointed hat completed the disguise. "Put that mirror away," and as Felix did, Igor continued, "Remember our plan. You first. I wait, then after, I come in." They'd gone over and agreed upon the plan hours ago, but Igor wanted to make sure it was understood. There weren't many Russian Wizards in London, and he didn't want to risk the possibility of anybody identifying him on account of his accent. Placing the tip of his wand against his own throat, he cast a spell that distorted his voice in such a way that one could tell that it was different, but you couldn't identify it specifically as Russian. When he spoke again, Igor felt strange hearing the change. "She is just a girl. This should not be difficult." Felix rolled his eyes. He got on with Igor, he did, but if the man couldn't appreciate the importance of a well made disguise then they were going to have issues. Nonetheless the mirror slid back into his pocket, and he quickly changed his hair to the muddy brown waves that looked like they belonged in 1972. "She's also the wife of a vigilante," he reminded him, before sliding out into the street nodding for him to follow. Felix would enter first to distract Greta and Igor would follow suit. As the shop came into sight Felix couldn't help but think that the distraction part wouldn't be too difficult. Worthless as the girl was, she definitely looked like she could bake. Turning back around once to catch Igor's eye, he nodded before pushing the door open, a large smile planted across his new face. They'd timed this just as she was closing, and as planned there was no one in the shop except for their intended target. A swath of coloured icing sprawled across the display cases, and Felix gave an appreciative raise of his eyebrow, before turning back to Greta. "Hello," he chirped, coming forward into the store, frayed robes dusting the tile. "I was hoping to--oh no," dismay dropped the smile off of his face and he looked around as if just noticing that there wasn't a soul. "I'm, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize you were...and I promised--" he bit hard into his lip, looking like this could very well be the end of the world. "Are you closed?" came his question, the eagerness in his voice hoping that her answer would be otherwise. Ha. It had been a day like any other, really, and that was a good thing. They'd been busy enough to probably turn a profit, and that always made Greta happy, but she was tired and she really just wanted to head home and snuggle up with Gideon. Ever since that battle this past weekend, Greta hadn't wanted to do much but stay home with her husband. She worried and fretted, probably more than was necessary, but really, the idea of a life without Gideon scared her more than she was willing to admit. But you had to go to work, and she did honestly love her job, so she stayed from open to close, and when someone came in, even if she was cleaning up and planning to lock the door in the next ten minutes, Greta really knew she couldn't turn them away. Besides, the man looked so pleasant, and like he really needed something--he had holes in his robes, poor dear. "Oh, well you're in luck, I was just about to close up, sir. How can I help you?" He seemed friendly, and he had a lovely mustache! Felix did have a lovely mustache, and it took all his self-control not to twirl it as Greta was utterly convinced by his act. "Oh thank you," he heaved a sigh, "it's for my-" for just a second Felix struggled with the word though it was likely unnoticeable to all but him, "wife. It's her birthday you see, and I meant to come in here and get her something special you know," he drew her in with the sincerity in his voice, gesturing to the baked goods throughout the store. "I'm so forgetful, but I really want to make this a special birthday for her. Do you have any specialty birthday cakes?" He had such a hopeful look on his face as he moved closer to her, having chosen an item of food that required her to turn her back on the door in order to better show him her selection. "A birthday cake?" Greta repeated and thought for a second. "You know, I don't have anything super special, but I've got a chocolate cake in the back, I could dress it up with some pink icing and flowers and a few things...give me a few minutes, and I'll see what I can do." She smiled at the man with the very fun mustache and pushed the door that led into the kitchen. There she removed a cake from the icebox and began preparing some ingredients for icing. Once it was mixed, Greta took her spatula and began icing the cake, humming to herself all the while. "What was your wife's name again?" She called loudly as the spatula spread outward towards the edges, painting an even layer of pink frosting. Sure, she was tired, but there was nothing like getting a husband out of a jam to cheer Greta up. Felix had watched her disappear into the kitchen with something akin to an avaricious smile, but was distracted by a raspberry tart practically in front of his face when she called back to him. He hadn't been able to keep much down since he'd started healing a few days ago, and while up on his feet, woozy was one way to describe how he still felt, and a sugary fattening glorious tart would likely fix that. He could just--"What?" he blinked, cluing in to he fact that had been asked a question. Wife. "Gina," he replied automatically, clearing his throat and pushing back off from the counter he was leaning on. "Her name is Gina," he repeated as he made his way around the counter, casting a cursory glance to where he knew Igor was waiting before slipping into the kitchen with Greta. "Oh that looks so great, thank you," he said sincerely, placing himself on the opposite side of the table so that her attention was on him, and not the door behind her. From the street, Igor had casually walked up to the large display window in the front of the shop and being discreet, he peeked inside to see how things were progressing. They were talking, good, good... she was going into the back room, and now so was Felix. This was the opportunity he was waiting for. Opening the door ever so slightly, he'd noticed before that there was a bell situated in such a way that would tinkle to announce a customer had arrived; through the small space he'd created, he pointed the tip of his wand at the bell and cast a Silencing Charm, allowing him to enter, unheard. Closing the door, he sealed it with a powerful Locking Charm and crept quietly around the counter to peer through the kitchen door to estimate the situation, trying to catch Felix's eye over Greta's shoulder. "Oh!" Greta exclaimed in surprise as she noticed the mustache man had joined her in the kitchen. People weren't usually allowed back here, but oh well, he seemed friendly enough, so she let it slide. "Gina is a lovely name." Greta exclaimed happily as she spread the icing around. "How long have the two of you been married?" "It truly is," he agreed, really laying on the enthusiasm. He was watching her with a knowing glance, distracted only when he caught Igor's eyes over Greta's shoulder. "Oh not long," the friendly tone slipping into a deadpan drawl, mouth smug. "She doesn't even exist and I can tell you that we'll be married for far longer than you and your husband." While Greta and Felix were speaking to one another, Igor positioned himself directly behind their victim, with a predatory gleam in his eye and a wicked grin upon his face. The wand in his hand was poised to curse. He placed a heavy hand upon Greta's shoulder and tugged to spin her around - he wanted to see her surprise and horror before he struck. The mustache man's words and then the strange feeling on her shoulder all came together at once, and Greta began to realise that no, this man had no use for a cake, and there was someone else here; she was in trouble. As she turned around, surprise did meet the man who now stood before her, but so did her spatula. The very second that she realised she was in trouble, Greta hit him hard on the side of his head with the icing filled utensil and grabbed for her wand. She looked between the two men, her wand pointed in-between them, but she didn't know what to do. "What do you want?" Her voice shook with fear. Felix's jaw dropped in shock as he watched Greta hit Igor over the head with a spatchula, bright pink icing plastering itself to Igor's hair and the side of his face. There was only a beat of stunned silence before Felix was laughing at Igor's misfortune and the fact that Greta Prewitt had wielded a spatchula like a weapon. "You--" he tried, having to brace himself on the table as his shoulders shook, laughter full and boisterous. "Well that's new," he wiped at a tear at his eye, "I didn't realize they taught defensive maneuvers to the wives of vigilantes as well. 'Death by Spatchula'," and he was laughing again, not at all threatened by the wand in Greta's hand. The laughter confused Greta. She really didn't see what was so funny about her defending herself the best should could, and at the moment, her spatula was her best weapon. Still, she knew she could use the laughter to her advantage, so while the mustache man was laughing, Greta levitated that same cake she had been icing a moment ago and sent it straight for the mustache man. At the very least, it'd give her a chance to run. And that was what she did, she ran to the door until she realised it was locked. With a scream, she pounded against it and tried a few unlocking spells, but it was useless. Momentarily distracted by the unexpected slap and the icing on his face, he glared angrily at Felix for laughing at him, then turned his head quickly to see Greta flee from the room. "FOOL!" he snarled at Felix before rushing out of the kitchen after the girl. At the counter he skidded to a halt, and pointed his wand. "CRUCIO!" Igor held the curse for only a couple of seconds, just long enough to immobilize Greta and keep her from resisting. Clenching his teeth, he stormed over to where she fell and grabbed her by a hank of her hair, dragging her back into the kitchen before somebody outside could see what was happening through the shop window. There was an island table in the center of the kitchen, and it upon this that Igor pulled Greta, pushing aside bowls and cake pans, causing them to clatter upon the floor. "If you are finished laughing," Igor told Felix, still upset, "then we can get to business." There was no better way to stop someone from laughing than to cake them, right in the face. Felix was once again left gaping as Greta made a run for it, pink icing and chocolate completely covering his face in some sort of sugary mask. He couldn't see, and icing was falling into his open mouth. That bitch. He ignored Igor's angry snarl, wanting to snap at the man himself as he clawed the pink from his eyes, accidentally smearing more across his hair and clothing. He was the fool? He wasn't the one who let her get right past him Barring teeth that were covered in chocolate, Felix had swiped the majority of the cake off of his face as Igor dragged the woman back into the kitchen. "Relax," Felix snorted as Greta was pulled up onto the table, "she wasn't going anywhere" Grasping a hand on her neck Felix's irritated scowl was marred by the delightful pink icing, but he gripped hard nonetheless. "Do you know how annoying it is to get icing in your mustache," and slammed her head hard into the island. That felt marginally better, violence did that to Felix. Looking back up at Igor who was sporting matching pink icing, Felix nodded. "I wonder how good of a baker she would be without fingers. Let's find out shall we?" he smiled at Igor, making sure to pin Greta to the table. Pink icing dripped from his face and hair, dotting both Greta and the table in sugar. The second the crucio hit her, Greta screamed. She wasn't like most people who held pride above everything else. No, she was not used to pain, and she didn't care what these men thought, what they were doing hurt, and she had never felt pain like this before...ever. Her screams tore through her throat and the pain felt like it was never going to end, and just as she thought she might pass out, it was released. She fell to the tiled floor and felt tears begin to fall but of course that wasn't it. The other man, the not-mustache one, dragged her, and she screamed again, this time mixed with tears. "Stop. Please." She begged, but that did nothing and then there was a hand on her neck and words about chopping off her fingers and Greta shook her head violently. "No no no no please no." Tears were streaming down her face, but they tasted oddly sweet because drops of the icing that had fallen onto her cheek. "Just stop, please. I never did anything to you." Only after they obviously had the upper hand and their victim was right where they wanted, Igor grinned. "Your death is to punish your husband, who dares to defy the Dark Lord. But we want to let him know that you suffered, first." Holding her wrist tightly in his grasp, with his other hand he grabbed hold of Greta's index finger and with a sharp bend backward, broke the bone, the sound of it snapping heard over her blubbering. The middle finger followed, and Igor gritted his teeth at the effort, both of breaking the bone and holding her hand steady enough to keep her from wrenching it out of his grasp. Felix watched casually as Igor started off small, breaking her bones with methodical ease. It was small compared to what they had planned for her, but it would send a message enough. "I think your blood will be as bright as..." he narrowed his eyes as he looked at the racks upon racks of baked goods on the shelves. "Those strawberry...things," he finished without much eloquence, making conversation as Igor went about disfiguring her. His grip was still tight on her neck, but while her other arm was pinned against his side somewhere, it wasn't exactly immobilized. From his gruesome task, Igor gave Felix an odd look. "Strawberry things?" He almost sounded like he'd been offended. "Is that the best you can do?" Felix made a face at him. "Well I don't know what they're called. Are you some kind of dessert specialist? No? Then do shut up." Looking over his shoulder at what Felix was making reference to, Igor spoke as if this were just any ordinary conversation, and not one made in the middle of torturing somebody. "Tart. I've had one before, but not here. They're tasty." The screams that came from Greta as Igor pulled back each finger were high pitched and piercing, but even through them, she could hear the bones break; the sound shuddered through her entire body, making her cry even more. It hurt. It all hurt so much and it still didn't make sense. These people. How could they hate so much? How could they hurt perfectly innocent people? And why did Gideon have to be caught up in all of this? But the two of them started...bickering, and Greta was finally released from the pain. Although not the brightest girl in existence, she knew this was her chance, but her wand was all the way over by the door. She looked in between them as they argued about tarts and while one part of her wanted to politely tell them that they were mixed berry tarts, she knew this would be her only chance to fight back. Quickly, Greta grabbed for the wand of the bearded man that was situated in his belt and she fired the first thing that came to her mind: cheering charms. You couldn't kill anyone when you were happy...right? Igor felt his wand being pulled from his belt and he quickly turned back to their victim, but before he could do anything to stop her, the spell was cast. Expecting a curse or some other offensive spell, Igor stood in shock, wondering what she had done, but his answer came as he felt a joy rising in his breast that made him smile and laugh, not wickedly as before, but happily, as if somebody had told a marvelous joke. He didn't know the name of the charm in English, but he recognized its effect. Felix had noticed Greta's movement but had been too late to do anything about it. Just as Felix was hit with the cheering charm he could only mutter a small curse before irritation was so swiftly overtaken by pure happiness that Felix's mustache was straining from how wide his smile had gotten. "Spectacular failure with that wand!" he beamed, releasing his hold on Greta's neck as he patted his teammate on the shoulder. "And what a lovely colour that pink is on you!" he chuckled as he marveled at the icing in Igor's hair, hands smoothing down the icing on his own cheeks. The pink really did go with that impressive beard Igor was sporting, the most majectic beard Felix had ever seen. Ordinarily, Igor would've replied with an insult or some other biting remark, but under the effect of the spell, he wasn't able. "It was an honest mistake!" he chuckled. "And you should look at yourself, covered in cake! You're good enough to eat." Turning to Greta, he laughed and said, "She still has my wand!" Okay so now that they were happy and her neck was free, Greta really didn't know what to do next. She'd been out of school for years and she had never been any good at Defence Against the Dark Arts to begin with. She tried apparating out of there, but the pain was too distracting and she could hardly focus on her destination, so she knew her only possible defence would be to knock these men out. That was when she summoned her frying pans and sent them flying across the room and hitting the man with the mustache in the back of his head. Before he could angrily retaliate she hit him with another cheering charm and aimed the tarts they had been admiring at the bearded man. Felix had been prepared to thank Igor for his wonderful compliment (it was true, he did look good enough to eat) when he was suddenly clobbered in the back of the head by something metallic, and with a ringing in his ears nearly smacked his head against the island he'd been leaning on. "What a marvelously painful..." he trailed off as his good mood began to slowly ebb away, catching himself before he faceplanted into the icing on the floor. "Ouch," he grunted, blinking back emotional confusion as he turned to find Greta. Cheering charms were supposed to last longer than this so why...? She had her wand raised again, and reflexively, despite the vertigo and a lingering joy, Felix shot a well aimed "crucio." It had started off strong when the second cheering charm glanced him, and by the time the 'o' left his lips he was beaming again. Overwhelming happiness didn't generally make for a very good Cruciatus curse. The tarts soared from their place upon the shelf and struck Igor, covering him in sticky, sweet confection, which he didn't mind at all. In fact, when he held his hand up to defend himself, he paused to taste a bit of the larger pieces that clung to his sleeve. "This is good!" he said, complementing Greta. When Felix cast the curse upon her, he said, "I'll take this," snatching his wand away from her hand. Greta braced herself for the crucio, but this time it only hurt for a moment, and then it just sort of tickled and Greta didn't know why. She exhaled a sort of whimper that was only magnified as the wand was taken from her. She backed up to the edge of the table, wishing she could escape, but knowing it was utterly useless. The curse was utterly useless, but Felix was unable to feel any disappointment in that fact at least for a few moments. How wonderfully frustrating! The smile was beginning to slacken on his face though as he observed her pathetic form, and again he felt the cheering charm begin to fade. These were really terrible cheering charms. Raising his wand, Felix waited a few moments until he was sure he could get more than a 'tickle', before throwing a slashing hex at Greta's torso. It was still slightly weak in effect, but as soon as blood began to bloom across her chest and abdomen, Felix felt the satisfied grin begin to spread, and he threw another, this one far more violent in thought than the other. Still looking like a deranged hippie icing clown, Felix nodded to a profusely bleeding Greta. "Looks like you're bleeding all over the baked goods" he patted her head condescendingly, finding pleasure in watching someone else bleed from the hexes that had nearly taken his own life. Felix was slightly emotionally exhausted, it was tough going from sunburst happiness, to murderous rage. It was so taxing on one's energy, not to mention he wanted to get this cake off of him. And his mustache itched. "Hands?" he directed to Igor. The Cheering Charm didn't have its usual efficiency due to being cast by Greta from a foreign wand that didn't belong to her. Just as drained and frustrated as Felix, Igor focused his attention on Greta and said, "I'll fix it that she can't grab any more." Concentrating, he swiped his wand in her direction, also using a slashing hex, but one with such intensity that it actually severed her right hand from its wrist. Another swipe, and the left hand followed suit. The cut was clean, and blood spattered everywhere. Glaring at her, Igor was fighting past the residual effects of Greta's spell in order to cast the final, death blow. The screams came one after another as Greta felt her stomach get slashed open. And again the tears began to fall as she struggled to get off the table even if it was to no avail. The words hands garnered an utterly terrified facial expression and Greta begged with tears streaming down her face for them to stop. "No. No no no no no no no no please no" but she was cut off as she felt the slashing hex cut through her right hand. She screamed but it only got louder as the left was next and then she heard the hand fall to the ground. It was a mixture of tears and screaming and Greta could feel the blood quickly leave her body. Even struggling took too much effort and soon the light began to fade in and out as she cried. Gideon remembered the days when wards going off meant very little in the way of instant panic. He'd been poking Butterscotch with a rawhide bone, patiently waiting for his wife, when the alerts for the shop went off. The bone and puppy were both abandoned as he headed for the door to their house. Of course the neighbors had to be out doing a bit of evening weeding and of course they just had to flag Gideon down to ask him a million unimportant questions. Finally he was able to get away, only five minutes lost, and he sprinted down the street and around the corner before he disappeared with a crack. He let himself into the bakery, the actual shop part still fully lit with no one in sight. Of course it only took him seconds to hear the sound of Greta's screaming from the kitchen and his heart stopped. He shoved the kitchen door but it didn't open and he frowned. "GRETA!" he shouted, slamming his shoulder against the door with enough force that it hurt. Gideon knew that there was one spot in the kitchen that he could apparate to and he focused on it with every ounce of his mind, and within seconds he was standing in the room, unprepared for the sight before him. Gideon's eyes fell to the two strange men, neither of which looked even remotely familiar, and he fired off two blasting hexes. "Get the fuck out of here or I will kill both of you." There was a lot of blood, something Felix regarded almost dismissively. There was blood in the icing and cake debris on the floor, and some had splattered on a few displays just behind them. When Mr.Rosier had said that they were to send a message, both had taken it quite seriously. Why kill the witch with a simple killing curse when they could paint the kitchen red? There had better be some tarts without blood in them, he thought with a frown as he watched Igor lift his wand to give them final blow, his stomach was rumbling so loudly. Ugh but what if he grabbed one and then he couldn't tell the blood from the jam? He wasn't lying when he said they were the some colour. As much as food was on his mind, Felix heard the distinct popping sound announcing a new arrival, and he was pulled from this thoughts. Snapping his gaze to the newcomer, Felix immediately recognized him as Gideon Prewitt. He barely had a chance to utter a greetting when he was forced to lunge to the side to miss the blasting curse fired his way. They could stay and fight Gideon as well, but Felix had risked enough in the past few months to know that they'd done enough "Time to go," he announced to his companion, still keeping his eyes trained on Gideon through the frosting decorating his eyebrows and eyelashes. It was a shame they wouldn't be able to kill her, though maybe she'd bleed to death. Igor had her hands, but Felix wasn't willing to leave without a consolation prize. Narrowing his eyes to see what Gideon would do next, Felix risked it and made a dive for the cherry pie cooling on the counter beside him, apparating away in the same quick movement. There was two against one, and Igor, who was already preparing to kill Greta, was sure that they could take this Gideon on, causing two murders instead of one. But then, Felix was gone, and Igor's odds were weakened in a blink of an eye. "Damn it," he growled, and apparated away, himself, leaving Gideon to deal with the bloody mess. He hadn't been working for the DMLE long, but he'd seen enough his time there that this shouldn't have been as upsetting as it was. Of course none of those crime scenes had belonged to his wife, and he was already beginning to fail. What was he supposed to do? Merlin fuck, what did he need to do? Gideon shook himself mentally and hovered over Greta's body on the table. His trainers slipped in the mess on the floor and he tried to keep it together as he gathered up his wife's battered body, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. If Greta died he...no, that wasn't an option. It just wasn't. "Hold on, cupcake. I'm going to get you out of here. You're going to be just fine. Hang on." Gideon thought hard about the apparition point just outside of Mungo's and within seconds he was gone, leaving the shop an absolute mess, though he could not be bothered to care. |