Antonin Dolohov (ruskie_business) wrote in unforgivenrpg, @ 2010-09-13 21:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | c: antonin dolohov, type: narrative, type: thread |
Who: Antonin Dolohov; Patrol C (tag in if you reply or it can be a narrative); NPC Muggles
When: Sunday, September 13, late evening - Backdated
Where: Ireland
Rating: R
Warnings: Car crashes and cold blooded murder
Summary: First night of patrol, Dolohov wants to 'train' the younger members of his team the art of killing Muggles
"I knew we should've left earlier. It's going to be past midnight by the time we get back home. I have to go to work in the morning."
"Stop yer complain'. You had fun, didn't you?" the driver responded, getting irritated at his friend in the front passenger seat. Another couple of their friends were in the back, and he could see them sleeping through the rear view mirror. The lonely route home was dark and he was concentrating on the road. He hoped to God that a fucking deer wouldn't jump out in front of them.
"Are you tired? I can drive for a while." The passenger wasn't very confident about his friend's driving abilities.
"I'm okay. Just stop bugging me, yeah? Put on some music or something."
As the one guy started rummaging in the side pocket of the door for a CD, the driver suddenly shouted, "FUCK!" as literally, out of nowhere, a man appeared directly in front of their moving vehicle, standing perfectly still.
"WATCH OUT!"
The driver swerved to miss the man and the car went out of control, going off the road and crashing into a tree. The airbags were deployed, but the two in the front were in shock, moaning, on the brink of unconsciousness. Their two friends in the back had not been wearing their seat belts and had lunged forward, knocking themselves out upon impact.
Dolohov took crisp steps toward the car, his wand already in hand. When he got close enough, he shouted, "Alohomora!" All four doors to the car flung open, simultaneously. The driver turned, groggy, with blood trickling down his forehead, and Dolohov ruthlessly grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. A quick slicing spell cut the Muggle loose from his seat belt and Dolohov ruthlessly dragged him out of his seat and onto the grass. Putting the heel of his boot down hard upon his throat and keeping his wand pointed, Dolohov gestured with his other hand and called for the others on his patrol.
"Come! It is time for practice."