s c a r l e t t (rabastans) wrote in valesco,
@ 2008-12-19 21:44:00

Entry tags:

amery wilkes, christopher loftus, corner conway, death eaters, eliza diggle, emmeline vance, fabian prewett, grayson wilkes, group, order of the phoenix, peter pettigrew, priyaranjan patil, rabastan lestrange

St. Mungo's Invasion --- everyone!
Rabastan was in a bad fucking mood.

He'd been in a bad mood for about a week, probably a bit before then because he'd somehow been dragged into decorating the entire bloody manor with his mother. She'd guilted him, to be honest, crying about how she didn't have grandchildren and he snapped that he'd help her put the bloody garland up if she would stop her ridiculous attempts at getting him to procreate.

St. Mungo's was ridiculously obnoxious with its brightly lit corridors and bustling employees. How could anyone possibly be jolly all the fucking time? Rabastan supposed it let him slip in and out of the crowds a bit easier, but still. When you were trying to create a bloody scene to save a man's life (not something he found himself thinking--ever), it became irritating, quickly.

He turned a corner and pulled out his wand, extracting the spell from the walls of the hospital that kept it lit so brightly. Rabastan grinned as the light flashed and turned into darkness, his wand spinning once in his hands.

Well, then.

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rabastans
2008-12-21 09:12 pm UTC (link)

Rabastan turned and smirked, wand flicking up to his face to make his mask disappear. The green of his robes dissolved into a dark black, and while Rabastan always felt smug and confident, his uniform quadrupled that sensation and now he was enjoying this.

It really just made things messy, when you went on a job in a bad mood. Rabastan knew that Grayson found much joy in that, but he liked to handle things with deliberate and clean precision, and would rather avoid the splatter of blood when he could.

Though, sometimes it was simply necessary.

"I don't think," Rabastan said as he swished his wand, sending a strong spell of wind toward the healer who decided to get in his way, "I give a damn."

He quickly followed up with an equally productive, quiet spell, "Imperius!"

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healers_leap
2008-12-22 04:04 pm UTC (link)

On of the great advantages to being a specialist in Spell Damage is that in order to properly heal the damage you had to know what curse caused the damage and how it worked. Andre ran through a list of defensive and offense spells as he walked closer to the man.

Andre caught the subtle motion of the other man's wand and prepared himself for some kind of nasty spell when a strong gust of wind blew around him. He almost laughed, wind? Was that all?

He was in the process of sending a binding curse when he was hit by a spell he didn't notice. Suddenly overwhelmed with feeling of not having to think or do anything, Andre immediately reconized which curse it was, just a little to late. He tried his best to ignore the growing feeling of 'Oh shit' and focus on remember the best techniques of fighting it off, but Defense Against the Dark Arts was so long ago.

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rabastans
2008-12-23 12:50 am UTC (link)

A thing his close acquaintances knew about Rabastan, was that he hated to waste time. He needed to get up to the Minister's room, and he could have tried to talk his way out of the very small issue he had, but that would just lead into more questions and accusations, and honestly? He had no patience for that. Most days he could slowly torture his victims to his desire, but today he actually had to stick to a schedule.

He flicked his wand toward him, making the healer walk slowly in his direction. Rabastan lazily twirled his wand again, and looked the healer up and down, noting his name on his lapel.

"Jordan?" he sneered, snapping his wand down to the ground to push the healer down to his knees. The tip of his wand traced across the back of Jordan's neck, "That sounds like a mudblood name. Are you a mudblood, Jordan?"

When there was no response, as Rabastan didn't allow one, he slowly lifted his wand again, lifting Healer Jordan's face again, "You're supposed to answer when a superior asks you a question. Crucio!"

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healers_leap
2008-12-23 11:34 pm UTC (link)

Andre felt his legs moving forward, walking towards the man that he had no real interest in being near in the first place. If he had any control of his actions, he'd be looking very annoyed (and angry) at this point. He really couldn't think of anything more annoying or degrading than being force to spin then, ugh, kneel in front of a man didn't deserve any respect.

Although Andre never really cared about blood status, he was a proud man. So having this man spit out his name while he was knelt in front of him didn't settle well with Andre at all. He smirked on the inside as asked him about his name, asking a question required a response, that didn't necessarily have to be polite or kind.

Just as he was to respond he was hit with unbearable pain and when it finally subsided, Andre was barely able to hold himself off the floor. "Actually," he said between his gasping breathes, "Jordan is a pureblood name, not that it really matters." he finished off smartly. Shows how much that bastard knew.

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