▪▫▪ c ε d (docstheword) wrote in valesco,
@ 2013-11-21 23:33:00

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Stoic, and cold, Caradoc slipped through the front doors of Evan Rosier's abandoned home. The location was not ideal, he realized, but with the amount of shit Evan was no doubt cursing his every move with, one more drop in the cauldron really couldn't matter. Evan was going to kill him in the afterlife regardless of whether he kept an unconscious Derek Dobbs in his former home or not, so he might as well use the opportunity that was there while a different plane separated him from his deceased, and previous, best friend.

As usual, he mindfully inched around the piano at the end of the hallway, not needing much of an indication of its presence. Its existence, while not deafening, only reminded him of the past, and set in this run-down setting, very much felt like a powerful symbol begging to be addressed, and noticed.

Caradoc closed his left eye to block the instrument out of view.

Keeping his head down, he glided through the rest of the home until making it to the back, into a room where all those nights ago he'd dropped Derek Dobb's body. It laid like it always had, a bit disheveled and uncomfortably calm. Or, well--- Caradoc looked down at his timepiece. Shouldn't be calm anymore, should be turning more lively right about now. Feeling annoyed (must Dobbs always be this unhelpful?), he stepped closer.

"Wake up."

Caradoc kicked the bedpost, and the bed rattled in such a way that it made him seriously question the frame's structural integrity. Perhaps he should have cared more about Derek's accommodations, per his last promise to Rachel, but he really couldn't be bothered to do more than he already had. Dobbs was lucky to not be slumped on the ground in a corner.

He kicked the bed frame again.

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bigd
2013-12-02 05:11 am UTC (link)

With a choking gasp that rattled of death, Derek's eyes flew open as he jerked violently awake.

Wakefulness had crept upon Derek in the moth-ridden bed he was stashed away in. A flicker of the eyelids, a twitch of the hands, coming out of one of the most lethal draughts of Living Death a person could barely survive on after being forced to choke it down. The abrupt jostling shocked him from its gradual waking, and nausea roiled within him immediately.

His body jerked out of control as he attempted to roll over too suddenly, sure he was going to sick, and violently so.

Though he did not know it, a benefit of being half-dead for two weeks was that nothing remained in his stomach to vomit up.

Magic had kept him alive, but now that he was awakening, his body ached in so many painful ways. His throat screamed for water, his muscles to stretch against their forced atrophying. His eyes were unfocused, and his memory still hazy as he struggled to recall where he was and who he was with.

What remained sharper than a pin, however, was his acute feeling of betrayal, and as the unwelcome vision of Caradoc's face swam into view, Derek remembered his last few moments all too clearly. The dagger Rachel had all but stabbed in his back, and the short struggle that had ensued once Caradoc had shed his adamantine chains and grabbed Rachel's wand. How long had he been unconscious for? How long had he been kept in this dank room?

"Going—to—" he rasped, clawing for purchase to drag himself closer to Caradoc, and thusly illustrate his point. "To kill—you."

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docstheword
2013-12-03 05:06 am UTC (link)

"Shut up."

Caradoc seized Derek by his front, and unceremoniously hauled the other wizard up from him his strangled position on the bed. While usually such a close proximity to Derek Dobbs would most definitely be pushing his luck, he knew there was still a bit of time before Derek would regain his full strength. Caradoc was also the only one in the room with a wand, and that had eaten a decent meal in the past two weeks. But he supposed that detail wasn't as important.

For good measure, he pressed the tip of his wand under Derek's jaw. Well, technically Dobb's wand--- former. Caradoc had won its allegiance on Halloween and while it was obvious that this rowan one was nowhere near as power as his own lost blackthorn, it still got the job done. He shook Derek's dangling body to attention in case there was any confusion as to what the other man should be focusing on.

“And listen to me. I am Caradoc Dearborn." Rachel had suggested, in one of their many talks, that perhaps Derek was simply acting, as they all would have, under the impression that the only viable explanation for a Caradoc Dearborn reappearance was a malicious impostor. This would clear up any confusion.

Not that it would even really matter five minutes from now, but he did want to get some things off his chest.

Caradoc spoke in a quick, dark manner, as if fearing if he spoke too loudly the walls around them would cave in. "I am one of the original Order of the Phoenix members. I was the one that saved James Potter and Frank Longbottom from the Dark Lord six years ago in France. I rescued Emmeline from Evan Rosier in Greenland, I caught Christopher Loftus and made Goldstein bring him to Order, I--" Caradoc's eyes squinted now, taking in Derek's lagged form. "-- was the one Albus Dumbledore brought back to uncover the traitor within the Order ranks before the end of the war. You cannot kill me-- you do not get to kill me." No, on the long list of people that wanted him dead, unfortunately Derek Dobbs had arrived too late to that party to reserve a top spot.

His upper lip curled up in uncontrollable anger at the thought of his next words, but as soon as it had appeared, Caradoc cleared his face of emotion again. His voice turned clipped, and his grip on Derek tightened now, threateningly so. "I took away Rachel's memory of Halloween." A hard line formed on his brow. "As far as she knows, she spent the night irritably lost in that maze. You will not," he roughed Derek enough that his head bobbled, "drag her into this any further than you already have. You will drag no one else, involve no one else--- do you understand me?"

He released Derek suddenly, feeling him loose hold of himself within. Caradoc stepped back, and in those couple of moments, the only sounds in the room were their heavy breaths. "It doesn't matter," he started again, coldly and quietly. His eyes had opened again, and they flashed at Derek. "You aren't going to remember anything anyway. You can't--- I promised Rachel I wouldn't get you killed."

With a heavy sigh, he raised his wand and pointed it between Derek's eyes.

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