- Hogwarts Interactive Role Play - Interactive, "real time" Hogwarts/Harry Potter role play
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Gryffindor: 170 |
Slytherin: 48 |
Ravenclaw: 880 |
Hufflepuff: 1022 |
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Date: January 16th, 2013
Today's Forecast: The air is reminiscent of spring. The snow, turning slowly into a fine carpet of slush, is slowly disappearing after a decidedly warm spell. |
HIRP: Reborn is located here. |
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It is now: Year 7 - Day 4 - Supper/Quidditch Practice
Happening now: Supper Azkaban Trip is now out of time. Feel free to continue all plots as planned. Feel free to finish all plots out of time. |
| Next: Day 5: Valentine's Day |
| Read Today's Daily Prophet: Knights of Walpurgis attack Hogwarts; Belleford steps down as Hogwarts closes until further notice |
| Welcome to Hogwarts Interactive Role Play, one of the net's best in Harry Potter and Hogwarts role plays. We hope you enjoy your visit. Here at Hogwarts our students are currently in their Seventh Year. Last year, the war against the Knights crescendoed into a direct attack against the school. Disappearances are still reported (or not) daily, and the Dark Lord and his Knights of Walpurgis have succeeded in spreading their message of "do as thou will" far and wide across the globe. Magical Law Enforcement, which is now the only authority in the wizarding world under Martial Law, has responded by tightening security, controlling the media, and strictly enforcing curfews and other laws. Their control is damaging to the people's freedom, and their hierarchy is a suspicious lot. It is clear that some members of the MLE like their new found power a bit too much, others see it necessary, but all are in serious danger of being consumed by it. But with the picture of just what Azariah Amaranth is after becoming ever clearer, and a third player in the form of a group called SAVIOR entering the scene, what will the MLE do next to ensure that they've got the situation under control? The Elementium, the Higher Plane that had once been hidden just beyond the veil in the Department of Mysteries, and the Deathly Hallows. The pieces of the puzzle have been identified, but what picture do they make? Today is Day 1 of Year Seven. Students have had time to recover from the Knight's attack, and are beginning to reluctantly return to the walls of Hogwarts. The safety of the school has been diminished, bringing up the question everyone must ask. Are you safe anywhere these days? It's up to each individual to decide their fate, where will you decide to go? You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. If you are interested in joining our forum as a role player, please take a look at the Joining HIRP Checklist (click me!) for an easy-to-follow guide on how to join! Click here to register! Await your email confirmation before you can post. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
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| Brief Respite; Year 6 - Day 6 - During the Knight Attack | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 25 2012, 10:14:19 PM (1,263 Views) | |
| Bannishtar | Jan 25 2012, 10:14:19 PM Post #1 |
Divination Professor and Deputy Headmaster,...as odd as that sounds.
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Banni got in just before the ceiling in front of his door caved in. Dust from the collapse choked the inner sanctum of the centaur's indoor forest domain. The birds in the massive trees scattered, making for open windows through which small amounts of waning light cut into the overcast dimness of the room. The centaur could hear the sounds of battle from beyond his door, but the fallen debris blocked all sight beyond the portal to his forest room. The grass and trees appeared unharmed. The Knights had not noticed this room. Banni deposited Amera and Ian on a thick patch of foliage. Amera was conscious, but unsteady. Ian was still unresponsive, but breathing. As his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, Bannishtar thought of what to do next. With the doorway blocked, there was only one way out, and it would surely take him into the thick of battle. He needed a weapon. His bow and quiver of arrows lay against a tree by the pond. Taking these up, he weighed his options silently. Ian and Amera were practically useless in their current states, and Amera could quickly go from being useless to being a problem. Sunset was growing ever closer. "Amera," said Banni, dispensing with teacher-student formality altogether, "I need to ask you: How long do you believe you have before you change?" |
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| Pale Masked Man | Feb 1 2012, 07:13:23 PM Post #2 |
Dark Wizard
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Alphonse strode casually into the room. He took his time, admiring the exquisitely tall trees and springy foliage which he knew had taken some complicated spellwork to produce and maintain indoors. He whistled. "Very nice set up you've got here, Bannishtar," said Alphonse. He he set his sights on his still-comatose brother. |
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| Brock Baker | Feb 2 2012, 03:06:12 PM Post #3 |
Auror | DADA Teacher | Head of MLE
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Brock considered it pure luck the perpetrator hadn't got very far, otherwise he might have lost him entirely. As this wasn't the case, the man stood in the doorway, his wand trained on the cloaked Knight. "Party's over, pal," Baker uttered, taking in the rest of the room. He couldn't remember ever seeing a forest indoors at Hogwarts before. Some things had changed, apparently. There were also the centaur and two more students from the trial, one of them being the Werewolf-girl. Brilliant. The Auror briefly wondered whether the centaur would surrender her only after she bit his human head of. "Turn around and tell me where he took them," he commanded. (OOC: Heard you wanted someone in here. Let me know if you had someone else in mind. I also think Brock might know Alphonse from Azkaban and vice versa.) |
 " Brock Baker allows the Chuck Norris meme to exist." <3 Eme | |
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| Pale Masked Man | Feb 2 2012, 08:15:43 PM Post #4 |
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Dark Wizard
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"Oh fuck all!" said Alphonse, actually somewhat put off by the auror's persistence. He turned around, slowly, to face Baker. "Long time no see," said Alphonse. Baker had visited a few times while Alphonse had been in Azkaban. He wasn't exactly sure, but it was possible that Baker had been the one that had permanently ruined his face. Alphonse decided to treat him like the guilty party, no matter the case. The same with the other aurors, really. That's why all the aurors at Azkaban--save for Davidson--had to die. "Thanks for the beauty mark," said Alphonse, referring to his now unrecognizable face, "I've been meaning to show more of my appreciation for that. Azkaban is already littered with, shall I say, tokens of my gratitude." Alphonse remained loose, yet poised to fight. He did not want to be the one to make the first move. If Baker did not attack him first, he didn't want to get caught up in a fight that would distract him from Ian. In any case, Alphonse still needed a plan. That stupid boy will come to any moment now. ((OOC: Do whatever feels right for Baker to do. I don't really have a plan for this.)) Edited by Pale Masked Man, Feb 2 2012, 08:16:46 PM.
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| Bannishtar | Feb 2 2012, 08:23:50 PM Post #5 |
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Divination Professor and Deputy Headmaster,...as odd as that sounds.
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In the very instant of Alphonse's arrival, Bannishtar had an arrow knocked and drawn, ready to fire. "I recognize that voice," he said, snarling, "Baker, Pointe du Lac is the one responsible for the centaur uprising three years ago. He manipulated us through one of our own, and he most likely bewitched Dolores Umbridge as well. He started all of this." Sensing a fight was going to take place, Banni waited. If Alphonse were distracted in a wizard's duel, he may not be able to block both his opponent's spells and Banni's arrows. |
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| Brock Baker | Feb 3 2012, 08:50:06 AM Post #6 |
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Auror | DADA Teacher | Head of MLE
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Much like Bannishtar, Baker found the voice behind the mask familiar. "Ah, our residential Scarface. Thought you were quite comfortable in your cosy little room in Azkaban." Despite his smirk and the fatigue craving to take over his body, Brock's senses heightened. This was not the typical lowlife scum or overambitious measly Knight he normally had to deal with. No, Pointe du Lac's records spoke for themselves. Only, he couldn't recall ever seeing any mention of the centaur rebellion within any of them. "Is that right?" Brock asked, doubting he would get a truthful response. The masked man seemed to blame him for his little accident, which propelled one of Baker's dusty eyebrows upwards. Did he remember what had happened? "Oh, I'd love to take all the credit but, sadly, I could only enjoy the show. Though I'm willing to add a few touches of my own, if you like it so much," he offered, taking a few steps into the room, posing his back against a wall. It really wouldn't help if one of Alphonse's henchmen caught him just standing in the doorway. Baker recalled the incident leading to the loss of Alphonse's dazzling good looks rather well. He was there, after all. Had an opportunity to stop the display, even, but why would he had done that? "Contrary to the popular belief among your dear friends, killing people or their families doesn't really make them like you," was all the explanation he provided. Sometimes it didn't hurt letting the men have their revenge. It could do wonders for their morale. Would he do that if it had been his family instead? Absolutely. Despite knowing the correct procedure would be to apprehend the man and question him under Veritaserum, there was one thought that prodded resolutely at the back of his skull. "Now, I'm sure you're dying for a chance to get off on bragging about your glorious escape," Brock said with a tinge of boredom. How did he manage to get out? He should have been under the drug's influence. And... wasn't Davidson supposed to interview him today? His gut clenched with unbidden worry which he swiftly tried to shove away. Edited by Brock Baker, Feb 3 2012, 09:22:41 AM.
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" Brock Baker allows the Chuck Norris meme to exist." <3 Eme | |
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| Pale Masked Man | Feb 4 2012, 08:14:34 PM Post #7 |
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Dark Wizard
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"Oh, I'd love to," said Alphonse, somewhat disappointed that Baker wasn't the cause of his disfigurement, "You see, there's one problem with your drug which you peons didn't bother to discover: It, like all potions, can only affect the physical aspects of someone. Even the brain is meat, so what about the subconscious? The unconscious? Is the brain all there really is to a person? I retreated into my subconscious domain, wherein I kept in contact with my Dark Lord. Though my mental and physical self had checked out, there was a part of me that remained aware. I knew that if I tried to do anything to Ian, the cat would be let out of the bag. He and I have a special..connection, more so than any siblings. So, I had to block him off, thus assuring him and everyone that I was as harmless as a lobotomized puppy. It was in this subconscious domain that I first learned I could harness Ian's elementium powers for my own use." Alphonse chuckled. "I could have crossed over to Ian's subconscious at any point, but I chose not to," said Alphonse, "but I chose to wait until today. I began this morning by feeding my brother some vague premonitions. All day he felt that something magnanimous was going to happen. That was because of me. "As for the escape itself, well, that was a matter of willpower. The dosage of the drug is always reduced before interrogations. Just enough to allow the victim some basic motor control, otherwise they can't answer anything. If Davidson had thought to use legilimency, I would have overtaken her, as my inner consciousness was well in tact, but, as the opportunity never came about, I had to keep the bitch talking long enough for my conscious willpower to flush the drug from my system. It took a lot of mental preparation, some of which came from the Dark Lord himself while I remained hiding within my subconscious from the ravages of your drug on my body and mind. "You see," said Alphonse, in a lecturing tone, "Your problem here has always been your ignorance of the true nature of life. It is what we, the Knights of Walpurgis, have been trying to teach you. But you're stubborn, and require a firm hand. "Once I was done ruthlessly killing every Auror in Azkaban, I simply invaded Ian's mind and used his body to connect a corridor of darkness from there to here. Ian put up a fight, but I was able to bind his consciousness. You see, I had a lot of time to figure out the workings of the inner mind. You should feel really stupid right now, Baker. All you've managed to do is give me time to become even more powerful." |
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| Brock Baker | Feb 5 2012, 03:49:00 PM Post #8 |
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Auror | DADA Teacher | Head of MLE
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Baker opted not to interrupt the masked man in his thorough narrative. After all, the fool was giving him some valuable intelligence needed for the MLE to take the necessary precautions for this to never happen again. But maybe he was just too self-assured of his powers to avoid capture that he simply didn't care. The Auror didn't quite understand how it was possible that Pointe du Lac managed to stay in contact with Amaranth from Azkaban through his subconsciousness, if he was telling the truth, but there was a lot about the sick bunch that went beyond the typical sort of magic as Brock knew it. But, by now he'd already figured out this Ian had to be the boy lying unconscious on the leaves beneath the trees. So that's what the seizure was all about, then. Besides that, Alphonse was now capable of elementium through him; an information that could prove useful as well. As the fugitive went on about the interrogation and his getaway, the sick feeling returned to the pit of Brock's stomach. The last of his hopes of any of his colleagues surviving were quenched only moments later. The grip on his wand became even tighter and a sharp intake of air was the only thing that stopped Baker from lashing out, as he grasped at the last straws of his self-control. He killed everyone. He killed her. Why hadn't he insisted on not letting her go? She was too young and inexperienced to deal with sadistic war criminals such as this one. But it was not the time for this way of thinking, so he pushed all the inconvenient feelings away. "And your time just ran out," Baker smirked disdainfully, narrowing his eyes at the man. Screw the procedures. But despite desiring to make Pointe du Lac pay for every single man and woman he'd murdered today - respectively - he knew there could be no holding back for that. The freak would not get another chance to even think about taking another life if Baker had anything to say about it. 'Reducto!' |
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" Brock Baker allows the Chuck Norris meme to exist." <3 Eme | |
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| Pale Masked Man | Feb 7 2012, 03:42:28 PM Post #9 |
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Dark Wizard
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An ice crystal appeared in mid-air to shield Alphonse from Baker's spell. When struck with the reductor curse, the crystal exploded into a sparkling white powder that littered the floor. Alphonse laughed, toeing the snow with his right foot. "Marvelous," said Alphonse, "the power of the elementium is simply marvelous. Why, something as positively humdrum as water can be made into a versatile arsenal of deadly weapons. For instance, Baker: did you know that a living body consists of approximately sixty-two percent water? Isn't that...thought provoking?" Though a face-splitting smile had appeared on Alphonse's face (all the more so because of his scar), the masked and cloaked figure appeared motionless. Edited by Pale Masked Man, Feb 7 2012, 03:43:57 PM.
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| Bannishtar | Feb 7 2012, 03:59:58 PM Post #10 |
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Divination Professor and Deputy Headmaster,...as odd as that sounds.
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He is too powerful, thought Bannishtar, We need a plan. Something powerful enough fight him. He looked down at Ian, who still stared up at the ceiling with a vacant expression. Gritting his teeth, the centaur slowly eased his arrow out of its firing position and lowered his bow. He looked to Baker, his eyes sharp, hoping to get his attention. Then, he looked to Ian and Amera. Ian was the only one who Alphonse feared here, perhaps, save for Belleford, who seemed unavailable. Why else would he have gone through the trouble of putting him under whatever power to which the boy was now enthralled? But he had no idea how to awaken the boy's mind. The centaur looked back to Baker, his eyes pleading for a distraction. Come on, Baker, thought the centaur, Get the message. I don't care how effective it is, just make a big enough ruckus...I promise I won't let you die. The centaur doubted his expression could say that much, but he had to try. He looked away before Alphonse, who seemed to be enjoying all of this, could notice. |
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| Brock Baker | Feb 7 2012, 05:48:55 PM Post #11 |
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Auror | DADA Teacher | Head of MLE
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Who had he been kidding? Brock just knew it wouldn't be that simple. Although, he might not have expected Alphonse to pull these kind of stunts out of his... mask. And despite not being a fearful man, Baker didn't relish the implications the Knight was making. Not at all. But there had to be something that could stop him. There always was, it was only a matter of figuring out what before the scarred man turned him into an icicle or whatever neat trick he had up his sleeve. The Auror's eyes briefly drifted to the centaur who appeared to want to tell him something. Baker had half-hoped the professor would at least try to help him out a bit here, but it seemed there was another plan forming in his head. Whatever it was, he should probably earn the man-horse some time. 'Great, now I gotta play a decoy, thanks Pony.' Looking back to Alphonse, Brock sighed dramatically. "If you put it that way..." Bringing up his other hand casually, the man proceeded to pull at the cuff of what used to be a white shirt. No magic ever known to man would be potent enough to salvage his suit - that much was apparent. As his fingers moved to the cuff on his wand hand, the man smirked. "Might as well look the part, eh?" His little show had given Baker a few extra seconds to come up with at least some sort of strategy, other than staying alive. He allowed a fleeting memory of his unintended protégée, now lying dead between the cold and murky walls of Azkaban along with dozens of other good men, to resurface in his mind, before raising his wand once more. "Shall we?" Brock cocked his head. With a curt wave of his hand, Baker conjured a wall of bright blue flames before him, creating a barrier between himself and Pointe du Lac. Then the man thrust his wand forth and, obediently, the fiery mass glided across the floor towards his target. (OOC: It's supposed to be a variation of bluebell flames. Also, IF Alphonse went for his husk-making trick, would it be feasible for Brock to use some mind or distracting spell against that?) |
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" Brock Baker allows the Chuck Norris meme to exist." <3 Eme | |
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| Bannishtar | Feb 8 2012, 05:48:51 PM Post #12 |
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Divination Professor and Deputy Headmaster,...as odd as that sounds.
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Banni took the opportunity as Baker summoned a wall of blue flames. He grabbed the two students again, tucked them under his arms, and made for the pond at the center of the forest room. As he galloped, he saw hints of orange spreading across the darkness. The trees had caught fire, and the room would soon become a pit of burning wood and foliage. Having no time to lament for his trees, he pressed on, hooves beating against the cushion of the soft vines and grass which grew miraculously from the stone floor--they, too, soon to be immolated. |
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| Pale Masked Man | Feb 8 2012, 06:00:05 PM Post #13 |
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Dark Wizard
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The wall of blue flames took Alphonse by surprise, mostly due to the sheer stupidity of setting a wall of flames inside and enclosed space full of grass and trees. Already, the blue flames licked at the dark trees' spidery fingers, setting them ablaze in a spreading wave of orange. The temperature rose quickly. Alphonse's robe now clung to him with sweat. He heard the centaur begin to gallop and turned around. "Oh no you don't!" Alphonse called, raising his hand to the pond of water towards which the centaur was heading. He watched the centaur take something out of the tree and toss a cloud green powder on the water of the pond. The pond suddenly glowed green. Alphonse concentrated. The water of the pond began to freeze over as the centuar lunged for it. Alphonse's triumphant smile threatened to split his face as he proclaimed "Got you!" He turned around just in time to be engulfed in the blue wall of fire. His screams could have woken the dead. |
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| Bannishtar | Feb 8 2012, 06:11:48 PM Post #14 |
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Divination Professor and Deputy Headmaster,...as odd as that sounds.
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As Banni lunged forward towards the frozen floo-pond, time slowed--except the blood-curdling screams of Alphonse de Pointe du Lac seemed to move faster, for the pitch was higher than he could possibly have thought. Bannishtar's hooves struck solid ice. He barely managed to remain upright as he landed upon the frozen pond. Suddenly, Ian began thrashing around underneath Banni's arm. He screamed a scream which mirrored that of Alphonse's, the pitch higher than the centaur could have ever thought possible. He screamed and thrashed, and Bannishtar could not hold him: the boy flailed from his grasp and fell to the ice with a sickening smack, but he kept on screaming and wailing. "Baker!" Banni yelled. The Pale Masked Man's screams suddenly died, and Ian, too, was again silent. He did not awake though, but went back to being motionless, no matter how he may have injured himself in his fall. The blinding wall of flame, which seemed to be spreading out and disappearing, and the orange flames which surrounded them, crackled and roared like some monster, and the room filled with woodsmoke so as to rendering the centaur's voice weak. "Baker! Do something!" Bannishtar coughed. Edited by Bannishtar, Feb 8 2012, 06:19:27 PM.
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| Alphonse de Pointe du Lac | Feb 8 2012, 06:58:15 PM Post #15 |
Former Public Servant
  ![]](http://z1.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)
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The pain lasted only seconds, and it wasn't any worse than the cruciatus curse, because the cruciatus curse is the worst pain you will ever feel. But the feeling of Alphonse's own skin cooking, peeling, melting and his muscles beginning to burn and blacken was nevertheless intense. He felt as though he was being eaten alive. He probably blacked out from the pain, more so than the fact that his blood had all but evaporated, hewas no longer receiving air from his lungs and all of his organs having been consumed by flame. When the blue fires cleared, all that was left was a smoking body which kind of resembled a roasted pig...just a bit. It wasn't one of those blackened corpses you sometimes see in muggle television--no, the real thing is at once more familiar and more terrifying, but Alphonse had a bit of a laugh, though, thinking he looked a bit like an overdone pork dinner--not a real laugh, for that would require functioning lungs, and not the blackened things he had now. Obviously, the clothes and mask were now gone for good. If it weren't for the smell of burning hair, hell, the smell might have even been appetizing. Alphonse remembered this one time...one of those events held by sick rich people with more money than they had morals--needless to say that Alphonse and Belladonna went in knowing they were only paying for the experience (and boy did they pay in gold). Worth it, if only for the experience. Alphonse was able to perceive all this because he had tapped into Ian's senses, as his own nerves and eyes were now burned up and useless. Ian's blank stare in Alphonse's direction seemed to go unnoticed in the chaos. Now, thought Alphonse, Ian, I believe I need your help. You need my help, too. You know you can't do this alone. We need each other to open the door. He felt Ian roll over to his side and, with quite a lot of effort, pull out his wand--wand which had been passed to him illegitimately by Alphonse's uncle. Alphonse felt Ian's hand graze the golden dragon's snakelike form which was wrapped about the upper part of the shaft. You can do it, said Alphonse, I'll work the spell through you. Ian began chanting in a low, raspy whisper which could not be heard over the roar of the flames. ((OOC: I should point out that an enclosed space full of fire will produce lots of smoke and carbon monoxide. I didn't think about that, but the room should probably be cleared before everyone dies.)) Edited by Alphonse de Pointe du Lac, Feb 8 2012, 07:21:39 PM.
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| Brock Baker | Feb 9 2012, 12:57:34 PM Post #16 |
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Auror | DADA Teacher | Head of MLE
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"Oops," Brock murmured with a twisted grin as the shrubbery around the masked man caught on fire. He honestly didn't care if the whole castle would have to be levelled to take someone like Alphonse down with it, provided there were no other casualties. But that didn't seem necessary. With the man's concentration drawn by the centaur, he wouldn't be able to defend himself against the inextinguishable blue flames anyway. The screams didn't put Baker off in the slightest, nor did the sickening smell of burning flesh and hair. His focus was solely on the Knight. "Oh, I'm sorry, does that hurt?" he said with a smile that distorted his face. Then his mask of indifference fell and he frowned. "Did she scream when you killed her?!" Baker shouted, his flames growing higher. Perhaps more than was necessary. Only then did he realize Alphonse wasn't the only one shrieking in pain. But it was too late as the boy's cries died out along with his brother's. Satisfied with the sight of Pointe du Lac's charred corpse, Baker buried his nose into the crook of his arm as he rushed to the professor. The smoke was stinging his eyes and for the second time that day he found it nearly impossible to breathe. So much for giving up smoking. A quick Blasting curse through a wall between the two already partly open windows allowed more of the dwindling sunlight pierce the thick smoke. The flames leapt towards their new source of oxygen like a starved man for a smorgasbord but Baker had already proceeded to douse them with a steady stream of water. When only small patches of grass were yet weakly burning, his sight and wand returned to the newly enlarged window. With a silent incantation upon his lips, a great gust of wind blew into the room and out into the corridor, leaving only fresh breeze flowing in its wake. Sizing up the disastrous state the room was in, the black ashes in stead of tall green trees, Brock gave out a slight wince. "That went well." Then his gaze fell to the young Slytherin. Despite his eyes being open, the boy looked as though he was miles away. Kneeling down on one knee and resting an arm atop the other, Baker snapped his fingers before the boy's face. "Hey, wake up, Sunshine." The possibility of the bond between the two siblings being strong enough to kill one along with the other was disturbing. But he could have sworn he'd seen the boy muttering something a while ago. "What's with the fishpond?" Brock asked offhandedly, glancing up at the centaur. |
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" Brock Baker allows the Chuck Norris meme to exist." <3 Eme | |
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| Bannishtar | Feb 9 2012, 11:19:38 PM Post #17 |
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Divination Professor and Deputy Headmaster,...as odd as that sounds.
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The centuar surveyed his once-majestic indoor forest, now blackened and twisted. The smell of woodsmoke had mostly gone, replaced with a crisp, cold air. The forest now seemed eerie--haunted. The forest could be remade, of course. Alphonse's death had been worth it, though the centaur was not up to celebrating at that particular moment. "What's with the fishpond," asked Baker. "It's connected to the floor network within the school," said the centaur, "It was made so that I wouldn't have to light a fire in my room to get around, though I suppose that hardly matters right now. Centaurs are not at their most graceful on the stairs, so Aphelion made this enchanted pond to function just as a fireplace would when one uses floo powder. I was going to use it to escape to the hospital wing, where I hoped to find aid for these two. Once that was done, I had planned on returning to aid you. I hoped Ian would be able to help us, but it seems that is no longer nec--" As he had thought of Ian, the centaur looked in the boy's direction as he spoke of him, only to see the supposedly comatose Slytherin crawling with speed towards the corpse of Alphonse, wand in hand. "Stop him!" yelled the centuar. |
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| Brock Baker | Feb 10 2012, 03:48:01 PM Post #18 |
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Auror | DADA Teacher | Head of MLE
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Brock didn't have to be a seer to tell the centaur couldn't have been overly happy about the state his cultivated forest was now in, but he seemed to be taking it rather well. The man nodded at his explanation, thawing the ice in the pond, because the last thing they needed was a centaur stumbling down the stairs and taking up another bed in the infirmary. He also noted it wouldn't have been a bad idea to check for some Wolfsbane potion in the Hospital Wing, as dealing with a werewolf wouldn't be a welcomed addition to his list of achievements for today. Before he could suggest the next course of actions, Baker was alerted to the Slytherin boy who was now crawling to his dead brother. "What the..." With a thrust of his wand, a tough thin line of rope sprung forth, wrapping itself around Ian's ankle. Now, if they had been one big happy family, Brock would be able to understand the concern for one's sibling, but it didn't seem that Pointe du Lacs had gotten along all that much. Whipping the other end of the rope around his free wrist, Baker held it in place, casting a Reviving spell at the student in the meantime. He knew it wouldn't have worked if the boy was more than just confused but it was worth a shot. "Come on, not the best time for a family reunion," Brock stated, nodding at Bannishtar to take care of the boy as he wouldn't hesitate to stun him if needed be. Given the centaur's earlier show of protectiveness of his students, Baker doubted he would appreciate that gesture. |
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" Brock Baker allows the Chuck Norris meme to exist." <3 Eme | |
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| Ian de Pointe du Lac | Feb 10 2012, 03:53:21 PM Post #19 |
Seventh Year
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The door. We need each other to open the door. Ian didn't even know what that meant, but it seemed important. He wasn't even sure what was going on. The scar on his chest seemed to be pressing on his lungs like a thousand pound weight, the spidery lines that spread across his torso burned hotter than ever before--and yet, it seemed inconsequential. Images flashed before his eyes...Fera's maiming, the death of Blinkin the house elf, Anton falling from the Minister's box, and all those people who died at the Shrieking Shack... All of them died because of you. No. Even as his mind resisted, Ian continued to crawl with speed towards Alphonse. A rope bound his leg, but he crawled against it, trying to get close enough. With a sickening crack and squelching sound that could not have been anything but profoundly painful, the leg Ian had injured in his fall tore from his hip socket, giving Ian the much-needed extra distance towards Alphonse. They died because of your own stupidity, and because you couldn't do anything by yourself. I...I stopped you from getting to the light... And now see who has to die because of it. Ian paid no heed to Baker, Bannishtar, or Amera. Before any of them had realized he was on the move, he had already made it to his step-brother's charred corpse. I... By cursing me and denying your destiny, you have caused so much pain. You have dragged those closest to you into this accursed web of shame. Tinsley's face appeared in the eye of Ian's mind, smiling. Then, her expression became one of shock, then terror before she vanished completely. Only you can end it. Only you can stop the endless cycle of suffering that spreads out around you. Use the spell, and together, we will make everything right. Ian raised his wand and resumed chanting a phrase in latin which was littered with more guttural sounds, making the whole encantation sound like a verbal flowing river littered with trash. Another rope wrapped around his wrist, but it was too late: His wand was already in position, and with Alphonse direction him, he didn't need the precise movement in order to cast the spell. Beside Ian's bound form, a red and blackened hand began to twitch. Ian continued to chant until he ran out of breath, the last few phrases of the spell were forced out of his throat, making the last bit sound glottal and monstrous. Baker cast a spell at him when he had no more air left to speak. Baker's spell seemed to pull him out of his trance and he was able to suck in air under his own power, as if he'd just been underwater. The spell had not broken Alphonse's control, but it did wake Ian up to what was going on, for Ian was in full command of his senses as he gazed in silent terror at the effects of the spell that he'd cast: All over the charred body of Alphonse, tiny bubbles of pale pink began to form. These bubbled spread out, coalescing with each other as they touched, forming a new, reddish-pink casing of skin. Alphonse's arms grasped the floor, and he appeared to be lifting himself up. A raspy sound escaped the shriveled hole that was once his mouth, the sound soon replaced by a gargling noise, and then a moan. Lips formed out from the new skin, and blonde hairs began poking out of the back of his head. Teeth became white again, new fingernails grew, the body gradually filled out as new muscle and fat replaced what had been burned away. As Alphonse got to his knees, his empty eye-sockets began to fill with what appeared to be a white liquid. Ice-blue irises formed from the depths of the white. Alphonse moaned loudly, and that moan became a roar as he forced himself up again to his feet--whole again. Ian remained bound, watching in absolute pain and terror. His chest was burning, making it difficult to breathe; and his leg, oh god, his leg! He felt as though he'd torn it off, which wasn't far from the truth. Edited by Ian de Pointe du Lac, Feb 10 2012, 04:05:05 PM.
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 Thanks Beth! I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin' I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin' I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin' I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin' Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall. --Bob Dylan | |
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| Alphonse de Pointe du Lac | Feb 10 2012, 04:57:44 PM Post #20 |
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Former Public Servant
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Alphonse took his first difficult breaths after having his skin, hair, eyes, organs and most of his nerves and muscles reformed by the spell. His body stung all over, especially his skin, which was red and pink like a newborn baby's. It was also starting to itch a bit. He put a hand to his newly formed face, only to feel the long, deep scar on the side of his face which seemed to stretch and distort his mouth into an uneven grimace. With a sigh of disappointment, Alphonse realized that the scar must have been caused by a curse, and no magic could rid him of it. Despite being very sore, Alphonse had no trouble moving his new muscles, for they were formed exactly to match those he'd once had. Everything about him was the same as before, except, of course, for once small addition: He looked down at the boys dislocated leg, and he saw the spot from where he'd taken a bit of Ian's own flesh and had incorporated it into his own newly-cloned skin. Ian was now bleeding profusely from a gaping wound. "That worked out better than I expected," said Alphonse, gloating as he stood, naked and red before his enemy combatants, "Did nothing for this damn scar, though. I think someone in your group has been dabbling in the dark arts, Baker. I'd ask that you look into that, if you weren't about to be dead. "I have to admit I was a bit worried there," said Alphonse, moving about, testing his newly reformed body with a series of stretches, "Being burned alive is not an experience I recommend, but I couldn't just let you escape with Ian. Luckily, his being here provided me with an excellent opportunity. "You see, what makes Ian special has a lot to do with flesh and blood--his real father comes from a very special lineage, one whose connection to the deep wells of magical power that flow throughout this world the Dark Lord wishes to exploit. Though I forged a connection between us, the Deep Magic saw me as an intruder and so created in Ian a mental wave that could repel or even destroy me if I tried to exploit our connection. Kind of like an antibody that has been conditioned to sniff out and destroy a virus. But that's all changed now, right little brother?" Alphonse crouched low and stared right into Ian's face, his scarred mouth a twisted, lopsided grin that spread diagonally across his face. "I can touch you, now!" Alphonse grabbed Ian by his face, his fingers clamping hard round his jaw and cheeks. Ian screamed. Alphonse laughed. Then, Alphonse reached out with his other hand and extracted from Ian's outstretched hand the very thing he'd been after for so long: The wand of his uncle, brother to his own wand, which was once Alphonse's father's. Willed to Ian illegitimately after Uncle Leon's untimely death (of which Alphonse was the cause) it was hundreds of years old, passed down through the family for generations, and had unique properties in tandem with it's brother, that shared a core of dragon heart cut from the same dragon centuries ago. Wrapped about the shaft was a golden dragon, in the Chinese style, and the tip of the wand was the dragon's own fearsome open maw. Without this, Ian could not best Alphonse again. And lucky besides, as the wand Alphonse had stolen from the auror in Azkaban had burned up in the fire. Rising, Alphonse gave a wave of the dragon-wand, and black smoke appeared about his feet. The shadows traveled up his body in thick flowing tendrils until at least they solidified into robes of the deepest black. Strange runes stitched into this robe stood out, weaved together to form a script full of jagged edges and sharp curves, so that the runes themselves seemed angry and violent. "Are we ready for round two, Baker?" asked Alphonse, raising his wand, "Avada Kedavra! There was a rushing sound, and a blinding flash of green. Edited by Alphonse de Pointe du Lac, Feb 10 2012, 05:03:37 PM.
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