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Who: Rhys, Alistair and anyone who might want to spectate.
What: FIGHT!
Where: Dresden Academy grounds near the guards cottage.
When: 8-9AM, Tuesday 20th of September
Rating: SFW - might be some language though.
Rhys had pulled night shift for the month of September. He didn't much like it. It was, predictably, quieter than the other shifts and the hours always seemed to drag. That wasn't the worst of it though, the truly unbearable part was the fact that night time cases always fell into the same few categories - young love, underage drinking, and the antics inspired by it. Just once he would like to bust someone for trying to brew a controlled potion under the cover of darkness or uncover a gathering of students practicing the dark arts. Not that he wished for the students to be involved in such things, but he was a trained Auror after all, and shooing horny/drunk/high teenagers back to their beds had quickly lost its appeal.
Tonight had been another in a string of entirely uneventful ones, and Rhys had spent it counting down the hours until he could return to the abode he shared with his fellow guards. When this time finally came it seemed to lack the usual feeling of relief. Rhys held onto the lethargy that came from boredom and the general feeling of discontent. After informing his replacement - George - of the fuck-all that had happened over night, Rhys headed for the guards' cottage. It was a crisp morning and he tried to pay little heed to anyone else who might be outside sharing it with him as he shuffled along. He just wanted to get home, and as he crossed the threshold of the cottage door he emitted a little sigh.
He'd had it in mind that a shower might refresh him - there were some things he still wanted to do before retiring for the day, but he'd need to find the energy to do them. Rhys began the process of shedding his clothing on the way to the bathroom - he draped his jacket over the back of the couch and held onto his removed shirt. He managed to make it to the bathroom without stripping further, but now that he was there, Rhys concentrated on removing his socks. That was, until, he noticed a shape in the shower. He jumped at first, before realising it was a cauldron. Due to issues with the fireplace, it had been 'decided' that they would use the bathroom to brew potions - it was contained and the ventilation could be improved with a simple spell or two. Rhys was yet to take advantage of this marvel of a place to brew potions, and was really rather unhappy about it at present. So much so that he pulled out his wand and began to levitate the cauldron. He made sure to slam open as many doors as he could on his way out of the cottage. He moved the cauldron outside near the window of his fellow guard and housemate, and had it spew out its contents before letting it crash to the ground. How well ventilated it was out here! Right. Now it was time for that shower.
What: FIGHT!
Where: Dresden Academy grounds near the guards cottage.
When: 8-9AM, Tuesday 20th of September
Rating: SFW - might be some language though.
Rhys had pulled night shift for the month of September. He didn't much like it. It was, predictably, quieter than the other shifts and the hours always seemed to drag. That wasn't the worst of it though, the truly unbearable part was the fact that night time cases always fell into the same few categories - young love, underage drinking, and the antics inspired by it. Just once he would like to bust someone for trying to brew a controlled potion under the cover of darkness or uncover a gathering of students practicing the dark arts. Not that he wished for the students to be involved in such things, but he was a trained Auror after all, and shooing horny/drunk/high teenagers back to their beds had quickly lost its appeal.
Tonight had been another in a string of entirely uneventful ones, and Rhys had spent it counting down the hours until he could return to the abode he shared with his fellow guards. When this time finally came it seemed to lack the usual feeling of relief. Rhys held onto the lethargy that came from boredom and the general feeling of discontent. After informing his replacement - George - of the fuck-all that had happened over night, Rhys headed for the guards' cottage. It was a crisp morning and he tried to pay little heed to anyone else who might be outside sharing it with him as he shuffled along. He just wanted to get home, and as he crossed the threshold of the cottage door he emitted a little sigh.
He'd had it in mind that a shower might refresh him - there were some things he still wanted to do before retiring for the day, but he'd need to find the energy to do them. Rhys began the process of shedding his clothing on the way to the bathroom - he draped his jacket over the back of the couch and held onto his removed shirt. He managed to make it to the bathroom without stripping further, but now that he was there, Rhys concentrated on removing his socks. That was, until, he noticed a shape in the shower. He jumped at first, before realising it was a cauldron. Due to issues with the fireplace, it had been 'decided' that they would use the bathroom to brew potions - it was contained and the ventilation could be improved with a simple spell or two. Rhys was yet to take advantage of this marvel of a place to brew potions, and was really rather unhappy about it at present. So much so that he pulled out his wand and began to levitate the cauldron. He made sure to slam open as many doors as he could on his way out of the cottage. He moved the cauldron outside near the window of his fellow guard and housemate, and had it spew out its contents before letting it crash to the ground. How well ventilated it was out here! Right. Now it was time for that shower.
He could clearly be the better man too, just make him look like an idiot - that was much more admirable than boils! Alistair eyed his best friend, squinting, sizing him up. Rhys being uncharacteristically serious only encouraged a want to irritate him. “Melofors!” He blurted back after a pause, hoping to catch him off guard enough for the jinx to work.
He was still twitching and whimpering with laughter whilst attempting to breathe when the thought struck him, and he harnessed the Gryffindor manner of thinking. Where you didn’t. “Calvorio!” He nearly spat out, the annoyance in his slightly ragged tone conflicting with the odd bubbling forth of giggles that made his aim poor, before Alistair scrabbled to get to his feet.
But his own laughter was soon silenced. He wasn't sure how Alistair had managed to get the hex out, let alone aim it at him, but both things had occurred. To say Rhys looked horrified would be an understatement. He went white, at first, and didn't dare move. But once the initial shock had passed and he was able to reach a hand up to his hair to confirm that the spell was, in fact, causing all of it to fall out, he became rather red. "Fucker," he said, mostly for his own benefit, before rushing at the other man - spells be damned.
Her arrival at the guard quarters was met with quite the spectacle. A crowd of students had gathered - with their muggle gadgets - to witness her nephew and his fellow Auror engaged in some sort of muggle brawl. Padraigin was already disappointed by how pervasive muggle society seemed to have become in this country, and now she was met by this. Her expression said it all.
The witch pulled out her wand, and with a few expert flicks and flourishes, she successfully diffused the situation. The bald guard had been removed from her nephew and bound. She did not spare her kin the same fate - making sure to bind him as well. She levitated each of them into the cottage and gave the assembled crowd an icy glare - they were done here.
Somewhere between being levitated inside and being released from the magical bonds, Rhys came to understand that this mysterious woman was Alistair's aunt and that she wasn't someone you'd like to cross. So he made his abashed apologies and took leave of the two to clean himself up and get some rest before his next shift began at midnight.
He also knew what her visit meant, or at least what it would mean, she hadn’t sent notice she’d be here, but that was probably safest. Relieved when Rhys left the room of his own accord, Alistair wriggled his shoulders as if loosening up now free of his bonds. “Wasn’t expecting a visit.” He noted lightly with a half smile, as if it was an unexpected pleasure in case Rhys could still hear. “Couple of hours before my shift starts- ..I could shout you to breakfast, perhaps? There’s a Inn that does a decent meal not far?” He offered almost sheepishly, still clad in naught but his pajama bottoms and half covered in boils.
They were seated upon their arrival at Bard's Inn - another quaint establishment. Although it was admittedly nicer than what she had encountered in the city. Still, the most important thing was that they could carry on a private conversation here, and so it served its purpose. She ordered a breakfast tea and nothing more at this stage. Padraigin examined her nephew in silence for a time before speaking. "I assume you understand why I'm here. But firstly, I must ask if you are in any trouble." This wasn't going to work if his 'friends' suspected him. She hoped this was not the case.