nora m. peakes (melindicate) wrote in valesco,
@ 2013-10-27 23:23:00

Entry tags:

adian rosenberg, arista sykes, caradoc dearborn, charles spinnet, charlotte sweeting, delilah spinnet, derek dobbs, galvin gudgeon, giada dorny, glenda prewett, graeme dorny, greta catchlove, group, howell williams, jake bexley, kalista borgin, larkin whitby, louis bonaccord, matthew summerby, nona pepper, nora peakes, octavius pepper, oliver comstock, penelope fawcett, rose knightley, rupert brookstanton, saoirse mullet, seth wadcock

Halloween Haunted Castle Event! Open to Everyone!
While she wasn't particularly keen on parties, she was set on saving wildlife. Everyone else seemed to rake in the galleons by throwing large events, no matter the scandals that erupted from them, so why couldn't they? Nora had conservatory's committee for quite some time now, and being the youngest by a good forty years, had devised this plan as a new and fresh way of funding. It helped greatly that she had friends that had access to some of the best party planners (or that she could twist Charlie Spinnet's ear until he helped her out), and things seemed to have turned out well. So far.

For the brave at heart, there was a grand maze that made its way throughout the haunted castle. Guests would be offered clues to get themselves to the ballroom, and if they were truly lost (as Nora was sure was to occur), for just a small donation (it's for charity), any money dropped into a clue box would light up a blue path down the correct route to lead the way out. With all the Gryffindors that Nora had put on the guest list, she was sure they were going to triple their goal.

There was a simpler route than the maze, which was simply to walk through the double doors to the dance floor. Nora was currently wavering between the two, having run out of pamphlets to give out at the front entrance therefore giving her no excuse to join the festivities. She felt rather exposed, as Delilah had stolen her cloak, and when someone tapped her shoulder she jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"Bloody hell!" she let out, spinning around. "You scared the life out of me!"

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ROUND TWO

docstheword
2013-11-07 01:14 am UTC (link)

Despite appearing wholly stoic, Caradoc experienced nothing but smug satisfaction as he watched Derek Dobbs trip and nearly topple over for the third time in the last ten minutes. Smoothly, as nothing of it, Caradoc retracted his foot from under Derek's heel, and waited only a beat before quickly jamming his elbow into Derek's side as the other wizard went to straighten his giant self of a body.

It was rather trivial, yes, but after the last twenty-four hours, it was the very least form of entertainment Derek could provide. After all, he had been a piss-poor host, one that Caradoc, frankly, was simply dying to repay all efforts to. He had already shown his ferocious gratitude by redecorating what could have possibly been the most delicately feminine flat in the UK (its floor had been far too clean. All contents within said home were overdue a bit of dismantling and relocation to the ground at once). But what else could he due to reciprocate Derek Dobb's hospitality?

Oh, Caradoc had a few select ideas. But they were for a later time, when a wand wasn't currently fixed to his spine, his hands weren't restricted, and he wasn't being dragged through what he could only assume was an outdoor charity event.

Dobbs had obviously lost his mind. What good he thought it would do to drag him, Caradoc Dearborn, into public, he had little care to discern. Mind-numbingly obtuse mistakes like that only made his job, in due time slipping out from underneath Derek's grasp to then go on to destroy everything and everyone Dobbs loved, that much easier. Caradoc supposed Derek might have thought it would keep either of them from making a scene, which he was partially correct about; Caradoc couldn't afford bringing any kind of attention to himself. It was the only thing that kept him relatively quiet and going along with this charade parade. It was within his best interest to go along as long as possible, he believed, until the right opportunity presented itself.

That opportunity being overpowering Dobbs for his wand, knocking the bloody tosser out after erasing his memory, and then apparating to his home to burn it to the ground.

But he digressed.

The ground had become soft under his feet, and Caradoc could hear rustling of the flora kind around him as they trudged along. No immediate people, only vague voices in the long distance. It was coming.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you for this," he hissed, delightfully murderous, and promptly wedged his foot underneath Derek's again. Caradoc couldn't see much over the cloaked hood Dobbs had forced on him, just enough to continue to be hindering. "Is this something you really want to die for? Me?"

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bigd
2013-11-11 03:54 am UTC (link)

Derek merely grunted and braced himself, using his tight hold on Caradoc's chains to anchor himself against his captive's inability to walk in a straight line. The beauty of the restrains meant if he tumbled, so did Caradoc, but the point was to not attract attention to themselves and not invite any accidental releasing of the restraints in the event of a nasty spill.

"You're such a brat," he hissed back, tiring of the fifth tripping attempt and jerking the lead in his hand so Caradoc was forced to lean in, where Derek could wrap his sizeable hand around the back of Caradoc's considerably lean neck and squeeze. "Don't make me muzzle you."

Derek had debated that very action, of course, but Caradoc seemed to understand that unless he played his cards exactly right, attracting the attention of fellow party-goers could end a lot worse for him than Derek. Who had to of course be vigilant about any escape attempts, but with the adamantine chains locked around his hands and feet, there was no chance of Caradoc using magic to further complicate the already horribly complicated situation. Though, somehow, simply by virtue of being Caradoc, the restraints hadn't kept him from thoroughly trashing the flat where he was being stowed. Derek was silently grateful that after the girls had moved out, he had seen fit to retain the lease. And change the locks.

There were so many risks associated with moving Caradoc, that if Derek sat and thought about it, he could call himself an idiot for going through with this plan. But it wasn't about reasoning, because he needed—he needed to someone to know, he supposed. Keeping secrets and bottling everything inside was still his inclination, but after what happened with the Order spy, he knew the risks associated with secretive and hermit-like behaviour were just as high if not higher than whatever damage Caradoc saw fit to wreak.

This person… though unconventional, might have been the only one he could rely on. The only one who could suss Caradoc out for what he really was (or was not, as Derek remained cautious) and still lived. And, hopefully, the only one who was in a position to both understand Derek's motivations and assist him. If all went well, Caradoc wouldn't be returning to the formally prettiest flat in London.

Speaking of which, they were quite late, navigating to the meeting point inside this confounded maze.

"Veering left," he said, turning a hard right around a hedge.

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docstheword
2013-11-12 04:11 am UTC (link)

First, he would break Dobbs' legs. After, of course, he had properly conquered his wand from him. Then, Caradoc couldn't decide; should he dump Derek Dobb's body in the English Channel, or transfigure him to live out the rest of his short life as a toad? It was such a toss up, one included the extra step of erasing Dobb's memory of this entire affair, while the other did away with it naturally...

It would feel so fulfilling to watch Dobbs slowly drown. It would also be a bit difficult to keep tabs on a random toad that would most definitely carelessly meandering about England. What a difficult decision to make.

Caradoc's thoughts had just turned to when specifically burning down Dobb's house to the ground would fit in to this building sequence of events when he was forced to make a hard right. His chains (CHAINS!) rattled and swung heavily, and suddenly an indescribably burning rage filled him. He had been wearing these ridiculous things for almost a day now, with disdaining failure of breaking out of them, and he simply felt like this was enough. He supposed he had been relatively subduing his anger under the guise of waiting 'for the right moment' to do away with them, but now, he frankly didn't care. This was it, he was done playing along with Dobb's medieval and magic-less game.

"Oops," Caradoc let out casually, and then proceeded, after suddenly turning on his heel, to swing his clad wrists directly into the side of Derek's face. Such an act did not come with a price, however, and it was because of that swing that Caradoc lurched forward and fell to the ground. The lumbering giant had at least fallen with him, and it was with a frenzied mentality that Caradoc scrambled to tug off the cloak Dobbs had put on him. Fresh air filled his lungs again, and it was in a strangled position and manner that Caradoc dived toward Derek again, kicking his feet up to allow his hands the necessary leverage to attempt ripping Dobb's wand out of his hand.

He didn't make much progress, as Derek was being irritatingly resistant, but more significantly a voice from behind froze Caradoc in his movements (attempting of breaking Dobb's index finger) a few moments later. He had not heard that voice in many years--- Dobbs had brought him here to see her? His hands stayed locked on his hold on Derek as his mind raced. Dobbs wouldn't have been stupid enough to involve... she hadn't even been in the Order...

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malengled
2013-11-18 02:22 am UTC (link)

If she felt irritation at the calling of this inconvenient clandestine meeting, her face did not show the emotion.

Though Rachel's mood had been soured on parties for quite some time, socialites, even married ones, had little choice in way of attendance, as supporting charities and attending galas and functions and all manner of events became a job in itself. She had reason to believe, however, her fortunes (metaphorical, of course, as her bank vaults would remain full as ever) would soon be changing.

Nonetheless, the reason she was here was because of Derek Dobbs and his ever-increasing (and frustrating) need for privacy and caution. Rachel could appreciate his past life events and occupation bred a morbid paranoia that plagued him in his every day life, but certainly there could be no foe waiting to jump out from behind the hedges or slink around the corners of the castle corridor to warrant this much secrecy. She could not imagine what he wished to discuss, which might range from his alcoholism to a strange method of inquiry about the lives of their friends, but she would, as always, come to his aid as he had done countless of times for her.

It was a simple matter to excuse herself from Gabriel's side and a simpler matter to set a small, unnoticeable trail for the Hit-wizard to follow, a trick which had come in handy many a time in her youth to lead suitors where she pleased. A little alcove in the outside portion of the maze was suitable to her purposes, no doubt the hiding place of a juvenile nasty that was unleashing terror on unsuspecting maze-goers. She stood motionless until she heard the messy tread of unsteady footsteps and transfigured her mask away.

Sounds of a brawl echoed outside, and Rachel stuck her head out in time to see two large figures sprawled on the floor, grappling with one another.

"Derek, honestly!" she snapped, pushing the veil of her crown away from her face. "What is the matter with—" Rachel caught a glimpse of the second face and faltered. "With—"

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docstheword
2013-11-20 03:34 am UTC (link)

Caradoc stared up at the witch before him, finding that it was twice now in the past twenty-four hours he found himself caught off guard. Dobbs had carted him out here to her? Her, her, the one that should be the farthest away from all of this-- her. Distracted by Rachel's presence, greedy to take her in with these eyes after so long, Caradoc fell limp against Derek's grip.

It wasn't he felt his back pinned to the ground and a wand jutting into the side of his neck that his stupor broke, and Caradoc snapped back to life. Silently, he was relieved to have his attentions forced elsewhere.

"Idiot!" he cried out, and promptly began to struggle against Derek's lumbering weight again. Must Dobbs be so bloody gigantic and fat? Caradoc's lip curled upward.

"Bringing her here!" he hissed, attempting his very best at drawing his own knees up to unbalance the sack of cauldrons weighing down on him. When that failed, Caradoc's hands shot up to claw at Derek's face. "Isn't there some rule in your ratty hit-wizard bible about involving innocent bystanders in---"

And, again, for the second time in twenty-four hours, Caradoc found himself knocked unconscious in the care of Derek Dobbs. Albeit a bit differently, he supposed he could say being stunned was a bit more humane than being choked, but Caradoc still found being knocked unconscious when he had select things to execute incredibly exasperating. His body finally relaxed with a great sigh.

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bigd
2013-11-21 02:47 am UTC (link)

"What are you doing?" Rachel screeched, lurching forward. The guise of Caradoc Dearborn faced her, laying still on the damp ground, and she found looking away from him impossible though she wished with all her might she could. When the was the last time she had seen that face? That face people had decried as a Death Eater, that face that was supposed to have been dead. That face which had ruined her. Derek staggered up to his knees and caught her before she could reach the body, restraining her flailing limbs easily.

"It's not him," she choked out, fighting numbly against Derek's iron grip. "That's not Caradoc, it can't be, he's supposed to be—they said he was—"

"Well, he's not," Derek interrupted her, tightening his hold on her. "Or at least, his body is fresh enough to sustain Polyjuice Potion."

The words, delivered matter-of-factly, were akin to a slap on the face. Stilled, Rachel peered over Derek's shoulder at the chained Caradoc. Bruising coloured his neck and dotted his face at random. There were small cuts and blossoms of blood, a mirror image of what was on Derek's own face. Hope, in the face of all the sad memories she had of Caradoc, in spite of the times she had cursed his name and wanted both, either of them, him, to die, had awoken within her. "It has to be him," she said softly. "It must be." The Polyjuice Potion would have run out sooner or later, and a Metamorphagus would surely not be able to sustain the disguise for so long without breaking.

Getting to his feet unsteadily, Derek loosened the chains around his own body so he could stand straight, then pulled Rachel up with him. "That's part of the reason I asked you to meet me here. Rachel, you're one of a few that know him as well—better—than I do. We need to be sure that this is him."

She pushed away from Derek and walked around him to stare at the body. With a fixed stare, she regarded the body on the ground detachedly. The moments passed in a long silence before she stirred. "And what is it," she asked, cool composure regained, "that you plan to do with him? Should this in fact be Caradoc Dearborn. Or if, in fact, it isn't."

Sighing, he rubbed his temples. "What is there to do?" he asked heavily. "We all thought he was dead. I thought he was dead, since he and Dor—" Breaking off, Derek shook his head, unwilling or unable to speak the name. "He was supposed to be gone. So what has Caradoc Dearborn been doing all this time?" Beginning to pace, he continued, "Who has he been consorting with? Death Eaters? He was accused of being one, after all. He was one."

He stopped suddenly, looking at Rachel with a hunted look in his eye. "We can't let him go. What if he's reporting back to someone? What if more will follow? If I arrest him, turn him in, there'll be a trial. Then too many elements can go wrong, can't let that happen—" Derek ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. "What is there to do?" he asked again.

Raising her eyebrows, she cupped her throat with one hand, lifting her gaze from Caradoc to Derek. "You mean to kill him?"

"Do I have a choice?" he demanded.

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malengled
2013-11-21 02:48 am UTC (link)

Rachel turned away from him, dropping to her knees next to Caradoc. "Most people might call you mad," she said softly. Derek made no reply, but she could feel waves of frustration, anger, fear, rolling off of him. She did not recall the transformation of Derek Dobbs. Much as she had tried, Rachel had never been able to recover the memories that had been stolen from her. The Derek she most easily recalled was not a war-hardened Hit-wizard that had lost his fiancée, but a carefree boy just on the cusp of manhood, starting out on a career he resented having to join. She found the present Derek infinitely more tolerable, but there was a darkness in him that did not allow her to predict his future actions. "Why is it you've brought me here, exactly? Surely for more than identifying a body. To absolve you of the act you're about to commit? Stop you, perhaps. To give you my blessing? To aid you? Or to report you."

Derek breathed in, a noise that sounded strangely like a choke, before he answered. "I needed—I just needed someone to know… Someone to see, that this wasn't all—" He trailed off, before adding softly, so softly she nearly didn't hear, "Someone to tell me this couldn't have been all in my head again."

The last time Rachel had ever seen Caradoc, he had left her to gallivant about Europe, deserting her without much more than a word. She'd thought, some day, they might marry, have some kind of life together. It had never come to fruition, and while some of her memories might be missing, she remembered perfectly well how much of the blame she placed on him for the way at least part of her life had turned out.

"You're one of the only people left that I can trust, Rachel," Derek said, a tender sort of desperation in his voice.

She watched the subtle rise and fall of Caradoc's chest, a motion she couldn't say how much longer would go on."Do you remember the last time I saw him?" asked Rachel tonelessly. "Do you remember what it is he did to me?"

"I do." Derek turned to face her, a kneeling, ghostly figure in all white, lit by the moon and stars. "It's another reason why I wanted you here. I cannot risk sentimentality concerning him, it's too dangerous. This must be dealt with efficiently. I know the strain, the danger, it places on you and your family, but Rachel, if I could have done this without involving you, I would have. If I had any other choice—"

"We rarely have a choice that serves us," she murmurred. Her hand rested on Caradoc's chest a moment before trailing away. "So you understand why I have to do this."

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docstheword
2013-11-22 02:00 am UTC (link)

A significant slip of warm wood slid into his curled fingers, and it was with a determined solace that Caradoc's hand twitched to grip it. His thoughts did not pool (though they very much wanted) to how wrong Derek had been bringing him to Rachel, Rachel, but instead darted toward the endgame of it all. Magic was returned to him; Rachel had not only roused him right under Dobb's nose but given him her wand as well. He could defend himself, now, finally put an end to this life or death dance with Derek Dobbs.

His eyes flashed open with Rachel's last words. A surprised and quite obviously betrayed Derek stood still for a moment, which was all Caradoc needed to conquer his wand and overpower him.

His tall body thudded unceremoniously to the ground.

Quickly, in an effort to ignore how heavy the other wizard's final words hung the air--- HOW COULD YOU-- Caradoc moved to free himself. A swish, and his restraints broke apart. A flick, and they were banished completely. Rachel's wand felt odd in his hands, like it knew its true partner would never execute such crude magic. It made him long for his wand.

Somber, he stood up. Again, Caradoc was grateful for a distraction, something more glaringly obvious to attend to than the witch beside him. For--- his brow furrowed as he bent down silently to pick up Derek's wand. In his hands, it felt vaguely less foreign, but still not at all familiar. For, while there was the world and more he had wished, and did wish, he could say to Rachel, it didn't quite feel... he already knew how this would end. Now, it was just a matter of how complicated the journey getting there would be.

When his eyes locked with hers, and he delicately extended his arm out to return her wand to her, he knew it would not be complicated, but instead painful. He took a gentle step toward her, speaking only after she had taken it.

"I have to go," he said suddenly, breaking his gaze to deal with the slumped body that needed propping, and support, if he were to disapparate with it properly. But--

"I'll come back," Caradoc promised, his eyes steady, but at her feet. "Come back. Meet you. Explain everything. I just can't---" He gave a weary look to the figure hanging off his shoulder. There was only so much time. "I'll come back this time. Rachel---" His eyes finally flickered back up to hers; she, of all people, would be able to detect the genuine sincerity, fear, and gratitude on his face.

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