The Thrill of a Murder

[rabastan]

[- I’m a preacher sweating in the pews. -]

Rabastan pursed his lips, turning away in a clear sign of his disinterest with the Ravenclaw. But she still stood there ever so persistent and unafraid of his towering statue. How was it possible a little fourth year could hold so much irritation for him? Oh, that’s right – a.) she was indeed a Ravenclaw, b.) she was friends with that little Jinxter gal, and worst of all, c.) she had a thing for him. “Are you always like this?” Vivienne asked for the millionth time, bounding around to his other side and standing on her tiptoes. Rabastan glowered at her, “Why does it make any difference to you anyways? Shove off,” he growled, loosing his patience with her. He probably would have already given her a good kick in the rear if she weren’t so good looking. Vivienne mimicked his own expression, except pouted “No.” She folded her arms sourly across her chest, matching his stance so perfectly it was scary. Immediately Rabastan straightened up and yanked his wand out, poised at her throat in the blink of an eye. Vivienne finally showed the proper fear, that “deer in the headlights” gaze overcoming her as she eyed the length of his wand. “Oh you wouldn’t dare,” she bluffed, her lie almost believable. “Oh yes, I would,” he replied coolly, forcing the tip deeper against her exposed neck.

Vivienne gulped, trying and failing miserably to hide her worry. No one ever seemed to understand that Rabastan was always ready to steal a life – petty fools thought he was lying, didn’t think he had it in him. But truthfully he’d do it in the blink of an eye and shed no tear over the loss of a classmate. “Fine,” she muttered definitely, “Go head – you see if they don’t find out it was you.” She went as far as to arch her neck, giving him a clear shot at death. Rabastan glared at her and then lowered his wand anyways; why waste a pretty face? He didn’t want to deal with this right now. But oh how he did – her predominate smirk ate at him, and without thought the words were out of his mouth and Vivienne fell with a shriek to the ground. It wasn’t anything harmful, no, just a basic defense maneuver but from such a close range it’d had more effect on her then he’d previously thought. He grinned wickedly, leaning over her as Vivienne fought to pull herself into sitting position. “Don’t test me bit-h,” he threatened, tucking his wand away back into his jacket. The fierce but hallow loathing rolling from Vivienne was almost enough to make him laugh, backing off for her to drag herself up. She stood before him for a moment longer and then angrily stormed off without another word. Rabastan shrugged it off, turning the opposite direction to continue what was supposed to be a relaxing walk.

With the little pest out of the way (off to go cry in her dorm no doubt) it was easier to try that whole “relaxing” bit. Rabastan had never been one for quiet, heart felt talks with friends, or telling anyone “how he felt about that” but instead took out his frustrations on those around him. Unfortunately for the little brat she’d happened to find him not at his best. And was it really his fault she was so annoying? Vivienne had a thing of getting in the way just like ever other impure soul at Hogwarts. He sighed in irritation and tucked his hands into his jean pockets; he was likely to lash out at another bystander if he kept them out. But more so now with the thrill of murder coursing through his mind his wand seemed to be burning in his jacket, heavy and weighing him down; very obviously snug against his side. The urge to pull it back out and take aim at anyone, anything was almost unstable. However, he wasn’t in the mood for suspension today so he withheld, instead favoring a walk towards to old banging tree. Rabastan slowed somewhat as he approached, judging just how close he could get before being whacked. The branches were currently still, not feeling the threat he presented. He laughed quietly, continuing towards his left to slump down next to a normal tree. With his back against the trunk, Rabastan pulled up his knees and resting his arms on that. Yeah, so much for relaxing.

[- Reserved for Edgar -]

[bonesy]

{{You'll Never Know, If You Never Try}}

The day was long and time was in short supply. Edgar was busily trying to figure out which drink to consume - pumpkin juice or butterbeer. The choice itself was simply as crazy as one could get - well it had to be for him to have spent such a long time debating the matter. He pursed his lips, eying the two glasses and weighing up the positives and negatives for both. He had been trying desperately to make up his mind for about an hour now, sitting quietly in his common room - both drinks on the table for the world to see and quite frankly, he was positively sure people had started to stare - not that it was of any great threat to Ed.

The clock ticked over, the dull ringing echoed through the common room as the clock stuck twelve. It was noon, the perfect time to consume both drinks - ah now he'd even have a harder time deciding but it wasn't like he could simply waltz up to someone and ask for their opinion, no no that was way to simple, and besides it was his choice not anyone elses. So he stared on, trying desperately to choose. It was one simple baby choice.. it truly wouldnt mean live or death would it?

Edgar weighed up this notion, delicately touching on every single point that entered his mind. He unraveled a new piece of parchment and grabbed a quill from a nearby ravenclaw uttering one word "Yoink". The quill touched his cheek as he thought. Pumpkin Juice or Butterbeer. He just had to analysis the chances of him dying from drinking one over the other.



Upon weighing up the possibilities, Edgar decided that it was in his best and safest interest to drink the pumpkin juice, because, who - after all - wants to be scarred by pink bunnies. No one. He jumped up, snagging the pumpkin juice, chugging it down and then skipping walking merrily out the door waiting to see what exactly he could do for entertainment.

Edgar walked down the hallways, casually searching for anyone or anything that would spark his interest - with the decision of drinks behind him he was lost on ideas! But he was never the less quite positive that he could find something to amuse him - if not he could simply amuse others.

The soft pitter-patter of feet met his ears as a girl rounded the corner and came face-to-face with Edgar. He recognized her immediately - t'was her buddy ol' pal Vivienne. Ed called out to her, but received no reply - he figured she was upset about something and they very thought disturbed him - who in their right mind would try and upset Viv?

Edgar huffed and stalked off to find the person responsible - it was undoubtedly a slytherin - a super sneaky one at that. But who could simply be that slimy.. he thought, raking over the possibilities till he came to but one end. Rabastan Lestrange, he was:

- Super sneaky
- Snake-like
- Evil to the bone

It was quite literally the only logical conclusion Eddy could come to. So he trudged on, asking randoms if they had seen anyone who matched his description - that being the things he listed in his head moments ago. He didn't exactly want to reveal the 'identity' of the person he was after but he was sure that the vast majority of people would realise just who he was talking about.

Ed made his way outside, figuring that his search could be better managed if he checked both inside and out. Out first, in second. He meandered over to the whomping willow and saw a black haired fellow staring at the thing - now why exactly someone would find pleasure in watching the tree carry about, wailing as its branches swung wildly in the air, threatening the people who approached it he would never know, but he did need to find Rabastan - even though he had no clue what to say to him when he saw him - he was quite positive he could string something together.

He tapped the person on the shoulder and promptly cleared his throat "'Cuse me" he started, the man still turned away from him "You seen a guy bout your height, your hair colour and snake-like around lately?" He inquired, rubbing his neck "Oh lets not forget he is super sneaky" He added as an after thought.

[rabastan]

[- For the salvation I’m bringing you. -]

The look on her face had been priceless – he’d been told several times that it was wrong of him to thrive off of other peoples torment, but Rabastan could hear those words one hundred times over and never would listen. Infecting his own suffering on someone else made him feel better about himself; because hey, he could have been the one on the receiving on the curse and the fact that he wasn’t already made his life much better then theirs. Naturally his current situation in life would always be better then those around him: he had a strong family that adored him, and he could always remind his brother that Rabastan was exactly one minute older then him and therefore allowed to call him “younger brother,” and he had friends that any amount of money could buy. They shared similar interests in money, and likewise all sought out the best connections to associate with now that would later insure them a high place in the world. Rabastan took no pity on those who crumbled beneath the pressure and stress of daily life – if you weren’t strong enough to deal with your problem now you’d be no use later on. They’d be doing the world a favor if they went off and killed themselves rather then deprive others of precious air. An act of nobleness, greatness – and it’d just be funny to watch if anything else.

But for now the Slytherin would entertain himself by watching the Whomping Willow instead of a pathetic student scramble for solid ground in life. The tree had yet to really acknowledge him, still quiet and unmoving. In a way he sort of admired the tree; after all, it was the only one on the entire course of the Hogwarts ground with any life to it. You pissed of the Willow or dare to get too close and it could easily whack your head right off. Rabastan had actually experimented with that theory once, calmly explaining to a little first year that if you could get past the tree loads of galleons were hidden inside the base of the trunk. He knew this of course because Rabastan had done it himself, duh – the thought still amused him, watching as the gullible young boy had raced right towards the tree only to be forcefully hit backward and came to a crash against the ground. The end result had basically been Rabastan’s suspension and the boy in the placed in Saint Mungos for about a month to recover from the injury and head trauma. Needless to say his parents hadn’t been so fond of him when he’d shown up on their doorstep seven months early; though not surprising, he wasn’t put on house arrest or anything when he told them it’d been a Mudblood Gryffindor. Rabastan laughed aloud, replaying the scene as he watched the never changing Willow. How humorous it had been to see the kid fly across the grass and look up to see the tree still madly flinging its branches about against the intruder. Maybe he’d pull that prank again sometime; it would so be worth the suspension just to see it one more time.

“Cuse me.”

The words broke into Rabastan’s happy daydream and his eyes narrowed accordingly – who on earth was going to insist upon him gracing them with his presence? Was there some sign pointed at him screaming “Please, come bug me! I’m in need of some company! Go ahead, take your best shot!” or something along those lines? Somberly he turned to look at the individual, instantly that familiar sense of hatred pumping through him – Bones, of all people. Today had gone from bad, to worse, to worst. Still without uttering a word Rabastan pulled himself up to his full height, glaring at the Ravenclaw with mild amusement. Did he realize how horribly in danger his life was right now, with Rabastan so fueled on murderous thoughts and his wand begging to be set loose on an innocent? Maybe he should have tortured that silly girl earlier; might have saved Bones from falling into the same lure. “Five feet, eight inches; black hair; Slytherin; sneaky,” Rabastan rattled of nonchalantly, without interest counting off the requirements on his fingers. He curled his hand into a fist momentarily before dropping it loosely at his side again, “I seemed to fill your agenda – did you need something nimrod?” His lips curled into an evil smirk, waiting for the reply in near curiosity. Whatever had possessed Bones to ask of Rabastan’s attention had been a serious mistake on his part. Well, it had been nice knowing him.

Coolly he chuckled under his breath.

No, actually – it hadn’t.

[bonesy]

{{Good God, Your Dragging It Out}}

Edgar appeared to be taller then Rabastan, he was standing at 5' 11" and feeling mightily grand for it - wait rewind he thought in his mind.. since when was Rabastan Lestrange standing in front of him - ohh since he turned around.. but that wasn't him.. was it? Hm apparently it was. Oh dear.

He backtracked, wishing he could be back with his awesome pumpkin juice, sipping it in peace, but alas he downed the whole glass in under five seconds and rushed out to be Viv's knight in shining armor. Psh what a knight he turned out to be. Well he was there, in front of Rabastan, looking down at him haha so satisfying and for once in his life, he didn't feel short but most definitely felt like an underdog - oh boy. Just what had the ravenclaw gotten himself into.

Rabastan's hair seemed to distract Edgar from his words, it was just so floppy.. and he felt an overwhelming urge to flick it, he had no idea why, but the sensation quickly passed - and he was glad about that. His mind was a very odd place at the moment, and it could perhaps be traced back to the decision he made earlier. Had the pumpkin juice fiddled with his lungs.. his insides as he so feared? His mind as screaming panic! And now was a time he truly wished he had a panic button that he could just press and let the world know that he was on red alert. Yeah attention was indeed grand

All things aside, the murderous look plastered on Rabastan's murderous face was indeed... murderous - and he once again coined the idea of the panic button - oh how he wished it was true. With that thought Ed chuckled under his breath, muttering how perfect life would be with that very button.. it would be like those big red buttons they press in those muggle villain movies. Oh how glorious!

“I seemed to fill your agenda – did you need something nimrod?”

Ed slung his arm around Rab casually and start to walk with him "Well look at it this way.. you don't like me.. and I find you have stinky breath correct?" He took the arm off of him, seeing Rabastan's expression - and i t most certainly would not be a good one! "Well I have a proposition mate.." he started. A proposition? Oh god he couldn't believe he just said that, because his mind was just screaming panic button.. nothing else "Well er actually that is a lie" He scratched his head and saw Rab's composure darken oh he was quite scary.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt, smiling goofily as he looked down into the eyes of rabastan "Well er Lestrange.. I should get to the point? Shouldn't I?" He started, words were just simply flying out of his mouth now. "Um how can I put this so you can understand" He tapped his nose, seemingly mocking Rabastan's intelligence.. he'd sooo pay for that later

"Me no likey you hurting my friends" He made signs with his hands to reinforce his point, making it look like he (Ed) was dealing with a complete bafoon!

Not good in the slightest..

Oh boy.

This was going to hurt...





Badly

[rabastan]

[- I’m a salesman, selling you hooks and plans. -]

Rabastan was easily loosing interest with the babbling idiot – did he not know how to form a decent sentence? As far as he knew, being of spoiled linage hadn’t actually genetically been proven to screw up the mind but Edgar seemed to be living proof. Okay, well, did he know for a fact that Edgar wasn’t pure? Technically, no – but he was a lousy Raven and not only that but even if he were cleared of the bloodlines he was worthless anyways. No one as foolish as he would ever make it under stress from all sides. Not even money could buy you confidence, although it most certainly did help. All the same, Rabastan folded his arms impatiently as Bones fumbled for words. It was during this motion the moron mad a grab for Rabastan’s arm, linking his own with Bones. Sheer repulsion jerked instinct into motion and he shoved Bones back harder then necessary. “Keep your paws off me Bones,” he growled forcefully, such a fierce passion of hatred flowing with each word. How Bones could remain so oblivious to Rabastan’s clear dislike was beyond him. Maybe he was dumber then Rabastan had been giving him credit for all these years. Yes, that seemed likely. Poor, moronic fool.

He was wired now, eyes never leaving Bones as though it were a simple game of cat and mouse. Or, how fittingly, a game of snake and raven. He was well informed about the poison most snakes carried: one quick bite and their prey was doomed. Rabastan had no intention of taking a snap at Bones in the literal sense; he was actually still thinking about his wand, so clearly burning inside his pocket. It was screaming at him to be released, to take out some anger and have a little fun. What effect would the torture of Edgar Bones have on the school anyways? It wasn’t as though he was anyone important. Rabastan wouldn’t even have to own up to the crime; years of practice had taught him how to avoid punishment. And if Bones didn’t hurry up, he was likely to be at the wrong end of Rabastan’s wand here pretty soon. “Damn just spit it out, will you?” he muttered, rolling his eyes with evident irritation. “Yes, you should – get to the point or I’ll have a nice old time messing up your face.” And even if he didn’t, he’d have a nice old time messing up his face anyways. That was the pleasure of being heartless – you could make promises, break promises, and feel no remorse whatsoever. The trait came in handy when you had to deal with idiots – which, let’s face it, was most of the time.

“Perhaps if you just said something worth listening to that might be incentive for me to pay attention?” he offered dryly, eyeing the Ravenclaw without much enthusiasm. “I assure you, if you have any brains about you understanding wouldn’t be an issue: it would just be the matter of deciding that you’re worth my time that presents an issue. Which,” he added in a bored tone, “Is an issue right now I might add.” Was his wand gaining weight or had Rabastan gone insane? The desire to take aim at Bones and end this pointless torment was inviting in every way possible; perhaps he’d fall for the old Willow trick? But no, he’d been here too long – it was a plan doomed to fail with Bones. For another time then, and someone less knowledgeable. Rabastan openly laughed as he finally got to his entire notion of wanting to talk with him: “You’re actually defending that little brat?” he chuckled, not caring to admit he was guilty of the crime. How he’d found out Rabastan didn’t know but he didn’t care either way – that Vivienne girl sure made quick time if she’d already blabbed the story to someone. “Well look, I’ve got a problem with something thinking they can take me on and me no likey being pestered by idiotic Ravens. How about you just save yourself the trouble and bug off before I get a chance to fire at your face. Frankly you’re lucky to be able to stand right now.” Again Rabastan gave Bones the once over, “Because I’m feeling like if you don’t disappear on the count of three I’m liable to commit a crime of…murderous proportions.” Rabastan smiled crudely, slowly reaching into his jacket to retrieve his screaming wand. “One…”

[bonesy]

{{Am I The Type Of Guy Who Means What I Say?}}

Edgar blinked, much more then necessary. Did this guy.. really have any sense of humor at all? Did he lack it completely? Well that really did answer itself now.. didn't it? He was like er.. well what was he like? Oh yes Scar from the lion King.. and Edgar was "cho-Simba" an extremely bad one at that. But never the less he was Simba, sure Simba didn't have that jolly a start now did he? What with Scar killing his father, then taking control of the kingdom.. not to mention being practically booted out of the kingdom.. well ok granted he left but still the underlying meaning was there.

So was this his "simba-licious" moment? The one were he gets booted out of his "Kingdom" and into "Hakuna Matata" or namely the "hospital wing". Well it certainly appeared that way.. but the question was who would be his Pumba and timon? Heck who would be that annoying Rafeeke? He had a feeling that position would be filled by Isabella Swan. Yep she'd surely hit him around the head afew times with a stick.. with coconuts dangling precariously off it.

That much was almost completely certain, in fact it must be the most certain anything had ever been in Edgars life. Well no matter, he pondered, his thoughts taking him back to his current situation. Well it would seem the pumpkin juice would well did lead to his death anyhow.. just not how he imagined it to be from such a thing.. granted his lungs could still evaporate.. and knowing Rabastan it wasn't impossible. Now that was rather scary.

Edgar vowed that he would never ever touch another glass of pumpkin juice if he survived this - granted it was most probably not the juice's fault rather his own stupidity. He stepped back and looked down at Rabastan "Shouldn't you perhaps think about this?" he proposed once again stepping back. He knew that even if he did run, he wouldn't be out of Rabastan's sight before he got to 'three' and anyway if he did turn and run, he wouldn't be helping Viv in the slightest, he would have failed his heroic mission miserably, at least this way, he was still standing up for one of his closest friends and what a better way to go? Helping protect others.

So it all came down to this simple, long moment, waiting for the snake to pose itself, to lash out and strike.. then the fun part. Waiting for the venom to consume his body and slowly.. ever so slowly feeling the darkness elope him.. and drifting finally into a peaceful quiet subconscious state.


This way, he wouldn't be remembered as a coward, rather the simple Joker who was eventually thwarted by the powers of Batman..

[rabastan]

[- And myself making demands. -]

Oh dear – he was even dumber then he had thought after all. Did Bones really think a witty remark of sarcasm was going to help him out of this little dilemma he’d thrown himself into? It was almost incomprehensible to think someone could be that stupid. And yet here it stood, prove that complete stupidity was entirely possible, alive and breathing – well, for the time being anyways. Rabastan’s fingers closed tightly around the wood of his wand, instantly the magic it possessed intoxicating him into mild insanity for bloodlust. How wonderful it would be to watch Bones squirm, cry out in agony as Rabastan tormented him so. Heck, he hadn’t even done anything and already the Ravenclaw was shaking in horror. The idea that someone had finally clued in on Rabastan’s uncontrolled love for causing others pain was almost satisfactory.

“Two…”

Better yet, he wasn’t even running. A head start could serve him well – maybe put enough distance between himself and Rabastan’s wand so that the impact of his curses wouldn’t hurt so badly. Of course the escape route was heavily flawed: Rabastan had good aim, he knew deadly hexes, and no guarantees Bones could run fast enough to get a decent length between them in another exaggerated second. Part of the fun was just watching the victims fear what could happen to them; he could almost see the possibilities running across their glazed expression. How foolish Bones really was, locked into fright as he stared Rabastan down met only by the Slytherin’s cold hard stare. His wand was urging him forward, crying to be used to on the idiot. Lord knows he deserves it; there really should be a law against just idiocy. Didn’t anyone care about the future of their crumbling society these days? Bones had yet to move – apparently not.

“Last chance,” Rabastan offered, carefully withdrawing his wand and fingering it with both hands. Amazing how much power some little stick could hold. He would never forget the day he purchased his wand: the sensation of feeling invisible had gripped him immediately upon first touch – and that feeling had never left it. It was what drove him to commit such crazy crimes; it was what was ruling over him know, telling him using an Unforgivable Curse or two or three on Bones would be perfectly acceptable. But he wasn’t that far gone; he didn’t want to be expelled completely – where would he get such willing victims if he was kicked out of school? Rabastan’s lips formed a menacing grimace:

“Three.”

With a wave of his wand and silently thought curse Bones was sent flying towards the old Willow tree and truthfully, Rabastan couldn’t have planned it any better. Bones must have gotten within a few feet of being slammed against the trunk of the tree when the branches came to life, taking aim right across his ribs and sending Bone’s figure back the way he’d just come. Rabastan’s cruel laughter echoed across the grounds, his past memory reliving itself before his very eyes. The impact appeared much worst then it had been the first time, and my it was ever so rewarding. “What’s the matter Bones? Can’t handle a little bit of nature?” He roared with laughter, hand firm around his wand. “Come on, get up then – this isn’t any fun if you just give up now. Don’t you want to punish the one who caused your little Vivienne so much pain? The girl was in tears,” he gloated, “It was hysterical. I’m thinking you should probably go join her in the Hospital Wing – whadda ya say? I’ll gladly give you an excuse to go there…how about a broken leg?”

[bonesy]

{{We are wild && We are free}}

Ok so this was definitely a simba-scar moment, except now Edgar thought that they had simply skipped the throwing him out and simply moved onto the final fight, but this time, this story was different - Simba would fail and scar would don the happy little lion crown, have cute little babies then rafeeke would be holding his offspring off of that giant rock.

So maybe Edgar was thinking this a tad too far, wait scratch that it was certain that he was taking this whole idea too far. No matter, it wasn't like he was babbling it all to Rabastan was it? So no harm done well.. least on Edgar's end.

“Three.”

Edgar gulped and straightened himself up, determined to not let his emotions get the best of him, unfortunately for him, he was shaking. Not good at all. He took a deep breath and felt himself flying being thrown into the air.

Not good. Really not good.

The next few minutes were all a blur. The tree collided swiftly with his ribs, and his cry filled the air until he finally fell to the floor. His arms bracing his body. He felt like he was on fire as he tried desperately to get up, anything just to move away from the demon tree. His arms wobbled and gave way and he fell flat on his face, his teeth hit his gum and he felt blood escape the new wounds as a pang of pain surged freely up his body. He groaned, clenching his eyes shut tightly as he tried to manage the pain. He simply couldn't and it would seem Rabastan had more in store for him..

“Come on, get up then – this isn’t any fun if you just give up now. Don’t you want to punish the one who caused your little Vivienne so much pain? The girl was in tears,”

Anger drove him to get up. He pushed himself to his feet, and extracted his wand, glaring at Rabastan "You bloody git!" he yelled, he hadn't ever been this angry.. who did Rabastan think he was? Hurting people for no reason what so ever? It was quite simply inhumane! It was scary to think Rabastan would soon unleash himself upon the world - deadly scary.

"Expelliarmus" His spell was weak but yet he hoped it would at least get Rabastan's wand within the fury of the whomping willow. He fell to his knees and held his ribs. Damn him! Damn Rabastan, he was quite sure he had several broken ribs for it hurt to breath. He glared up at Rabastan, he was finally towering over Edgar's frame.. just this once.

“It was hysterical. I’m thinking you should probably go join her in the Hospital Wing – whadda ya say? I’ll gladly give you an excuse to go there…how about a broken leg?”

Rabastan just wasn't worth his precious energy to hurt, torment or mame. Besides Edgar could never do that, even if the git deserved it. He held his ribs and waited for his reaction, Edgar was in far too much pain for jokes now, although he had to admit.. he was envious of Simba.. at least he didn't have to actually physically feel the pain.. he was always as good as new in the next scene. Damn Simba.

[rabastan]

[- When I’m home alone I just dance by myself. -]

Another buoyant laugh roared from his mouth, enjoying Bones’ pain all too much. How sweet it was to watch as his figure went crashing against the ground, and even better as he struggled to right himself. Pathetic he couldn’t even manage to stand – ha, some man he was. Couldn’t even take a little bit of pain to the stomach? Rabastan was forced into more joyous laughter, snickering as Bones made a move to be brave. “Git? That’s the best you can think to call me?” Just for good measure he smirked, a rather lethal grin when coming from him. “How about you just shut up you b-stard?” But Bones was worse off then he had been five minutes, so much more worthless then when he’d woken up this morning. Maybe this would teach him a lesson to never set foot near Rabastan again; he wasn’t anything to the Slytheirn except a nice punching bag. The snake had lashed out and released the poison – now it was just a matter of waiting for the raven to suffer and die.

“Honestly, did you really think you could come after me and be the – damn!” he yowled, his gloating interfering with his defenses. In the blink of an eye his wand, his life source was being reckless tossed aside, landing within range of the stupid tree; suddenly Rabastan didn’t admire the Willow so much. It went through all that trouble to give Bones a good whack across the stomach and then turned it’s back on him, challenging him? He glared at Bones, hating every ounce of him and all he stood for. “You’re going to regret that,” he muttered angrily. In a split decision Rabastan made a dive for his wand, Bones too crumpled to make another move in the time it would take him to get his wand back. The plan was brilliant, his fingers closing around the wood – simply brilliant: until a thick branch came swinging down from his left and sent Rabastan soaring backwards in a mimic to Bones. Hating himself he screamed at the impact and landed not far off from Bones but thankfully wand still in hand – that was all he needed to insure a victory. And heck, if he could manage to snap Bones’ wand in half all he needed was his fists.

Rabastan’s gaze was alight with new loathing; how did that saying go? “If looks could kill” – Edgar Bones would be dead by now. But however much he hated it, the playing field had been somewhat equaled out, Rabastan’s side sore and throbbing – screaming in pain at him to quit while his mind urged him further. If Bones felt like this though, it had been worth it. He groaned with the effort, but shakily pulled himself up, spitting out a mixture of saliva and blood as he did so. “You really shouldn’t have done that,” he growled, wiping one sleeve across his mouth: a long smear of blood trailed the length of his arm now. How morbid this was turning out, both boys with a couple broken bones he was sure and covered in blood and sweat. Rabastan laughed once more, only this time a searing pain reached him as he did so. His nostrils flared: “God, I swear you won’t live to see the light of another day,” he vowed solemnly, raising his wand and fighting the burning pain that it took him to do just that much, “Everte Statum!”


*Ahem: “used to blast the target (person) off their feet.”

[bonesy]

{{good god your dragging it out}}

Not worth it.. so noooot worth it

Edgar's mind was desperately begging him to not just simply slap punch Rabastan very hard right now. He sucked in air - which hurt quite alot, and secretly rejoiced in his little spell working wonders, Rabastan was now in the same position as him, hunched over and hurting like hell.

The oddest thing was.. Edgar did feel bad about hurting Rabastan. Well actually it wasn't his fault at all, rather it was Rabastan's foolish dive he took in a desperate attempt to collect his wand.

Best not dwell.. now what would superman do?

It all really boiled down to this single moment, the one that decided whether Edgar would need weeks upon weeks of treatment in the hospital or more preferably he could use his awesome ninja skills wit to weasel himself out of anymore pain.

Unfortunately for Edgar - this every wish would not be one granted easily. He watched Rabastan rise from the ground, still very much in the "evil-genius-king-of-the-world" mode.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,”

[/i]

Edgar gulped, the hot metallic liquid eased down his throat - swallowing blood, not a very wise move on his part. The stuff tasted disgusting and he was immediately reminded of vampires. Great his mind was drifting yet again and he honestly wasn't paying all that much mind to the snake standing before him.

The eagle was void of flight now, the snake circling its pray finding just the right time to strike. It slithered forward, edging towards the eagle, seeing if it was really void of any escape and when the snake realised that it wasn't moving anywhere fast, it stuck.

The painful reality of Rabastan's spell gripped him, the curling light flew straight for him, hitting him square in the chest. Now the eagle was truly soaring, towards a painful bitter solid object. His body crashed against the hard ground and a loud, painful yell escaped his mouth as h e cradled his arm. It was most definitely broken - another addiction to all the other injuries he held.

Edgars eyes closed as he bit his lip in agony, the pain seemed to ever end as he lay crumpled on the ground. Definitely un -Simba like, in fact he almost feel like the tides had turned and he was now scar.

Butterbeer... if only he drunk the butterbeer.

[/blockquote][/color]

[rabastan]

[- And you pull my head so close, volume goes with the truth.
Signing off “I’m alright in bed but I’m better with a pen.” -]

Rabastan’s side was really beginning to hurt, the throbbing increasing with every ragged breath he drew in. His throat almost felt sore from the effort, caught somewhere between trying to breathe shallow to ease the pain and sucking in deep breaths to keep up with his quickening heartbeat. Nothing the adrenaline of battle to raise your energy level; he was high on murder, coughing up more blood as he laughed weakly. Seemed like Bones was reaching his limit, landing with a satisfactory thud against the ground for the second time today. And this time he didn’t make any move to defend himself, but merely hugging his arm against his chest. “What, giving up already?” Rabastan jeered, the effort to talk causing his ribs serious pain. With his free arm Rabastan wrapped it around his stomach, almost in an attempt to keep himself together. He was going to be sore for weeks on end because of the trouble Bones had caused him. Vivienne wouldn’t have been much more trouble then a couple of hexes and Rabastan would have been able to walk away in one piece. But no, now he was going to half to try and explain to the nurse why he’d felt the need to harp on Bones and how he had come to have several broken bones. Not only that, but how to explain his own injures? They were self inflicting – if he’d moved just a bit faster, perhaps Rabastan wouldn’t be standing on what felt like a fractured calf. He glared at Bones.

No, this was all his fault.

With each step he took burning pain riveted through his body, but he walked over to Bones anyways, standing over him with a look of pure disgust. “Expelliarmus,” he muttered, watching the wand fly. Now that that was out of the way, Rabastan felt a bit surer of his victory. “I’ve been thinking about this,” he said conversationally, smirking as some of his own blood dripped down onto Bones sleeve, “And I have so far come up with no reason to let you live. You’re just taking up space – frankly, I’d be doing this school a favor if I just disposed of you now.” Although his words spoke of contemplations, Rabastan’s voice itself held no sort of debating. He had already decided Bones’ death was necessary – really the only lingering thought that had kept him from doing it yet was expulsion. He really wasn’t in the mood to try and explain to his parents his reasons for not graduating when he’d already come so far. It hurt like none other, but Rabastan knelt down forcefully grabbed a fistful of Bones’ shirt to make him look up and stop sobbing about his arm. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood Bones’,” the Slytherin sneered in his face, “I’m feeling somewhat merciful.”

Yeah, right.

He dropped Bones back against the ground and stood up, moaning from the effort it took him. Angrily he spit at the ground, now a red splatter against the grass. “But I swear, you ever irritate me again, try to play the big, macho hero, I’ll kill you – and if you think I’m joking, say hello to Jason for me when you wind up in hell.” He laughed shakily out of spite: let that keep Bones up all night. He stood there a moment longer towering over the idiot before giving him a good kick in the side, wincing himself for a second. “See ya Bonesy…that is what they call you nowadays, isn’t it?” Another quiet chuckle, another stab of pain. “Maybe they should start calling you Broken Bones instead, it’s much more fitting.” Rabastan’s grip around his wand tightened, glaring down at the Ravenclaw. He considered tossing another hex his way just because, but he didn’t want to break Bone’s leg too – he had to be able to hobble to the infirmary eventually, not lie around here all day where Rabastan wouldn’t get any acknowledgement for his work. “I assume this is where I would tell you that I look forward to the next time we meet,” Rabastan called over his shoulder as he began to walk away and wishing he could cry out from the hurting, “But I don’t – and we won’t.”

[- The kid was alright but it went to his head. -]