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Post by Curse Kameren on Apr 18, 2011 1:07:00 GMT -5
"Give my apologies to Max, too."
Curse smiled, nodding to the man as he crossed his arms. "Pleasure to meet you, Reckony. I'll come by again some time, drink some more of your awful drink." He laughed, checking his watch as he took a step towards the door.
"Wai', Plug yer ears."
"Wha--?"
"THANKS, MATES! THE MOON IS NIGH. GO TO BED AN' COUNT YER BLESSINGS."
"Ah!" Curse's hands went up to his ears a little too late as the barkeep's bellow filled the Broomsticks. He smirked crookedly at the man as he put his hands down. "Bloody hell, mate, you've gotta give more warning than that." He smiled wryly, his face falling when he saw the look on his new friends face as he looked past the professor.
“The rain is pouring like buckets. But the demons are still out an’ ‘bout.”
"The demons are goin' nappy, as are you, Sparkle Cloak. Out!"
Curse just watched, his emerald eyes falling hard on the intruder. He had met him once, Curse remembered. Couldn't remember his name, but he did remember their argument. This was not the type of man you wanted stumbling in your bar at closing time. He stood tall behind Reckony, giving a dark look to the man he pushed. He didn't want to get into a fight, but he also wouldn't leave Pike standing alone if it came down to it. The ex-auror crossed his arms, staring silently over Reckony's shoulder.
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Post by Ralin O'Faerlun on Apr 18, 2011 3:20:50 GMT -5
[[Hope you don't mind me joining in?]]
The door shook from the outside, a resounding boom belying the fact that something had just hit it. Hard.
"Yeowch, who put that there?!" A voice bellowed without regard to the fact that it was late night, however the downpour of rain simply pounded most of the shout into the soil.
Several more clatterings as the newcomer fumbled for the door, finally discovering the latch, and then the storm blew in on the heels of a figure swathed in a heavy green cloak. The roar of the rain shut off as quickly as it had swept in as the door slammed closed again. The figure turned and partially collapsed against the door, a broom clutched in one hand.
"Blisterin' banshees, 'tis...hold up," the newcomer pushed back the hood of the cloak, revealing the face of a young man, about 20 years old. Green eyes, a soaked mop of unruly reddish hair, and freckles. And a lack of height. His brow furrowed. "Wait a blinkin' minute, this isn't Hogwarts."
His lips were blue and his face pale, and he was dripping into a sizeable puddle on the floor. Out of consideration for the floor's dry state, the young man didn't move another step, shoulder's hunched in exhaustion, but his eyes were keen and alert.
Eyes that took in the three men facing him, one pushing another before him, and behind him...
"Oy Curse, this isn't Hogwarts. It's Three Broomsticks. What're ye doin' here?"
He grinned haphazardly at the man playing the role of 'bouncer'. "Sorry t'blow in here like that, but th' wet stuff is fallin' down harder than Bolivia in the World Cup. Hope ye don't mind if I stand here till it lets up a bit?"
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Post by Reckony Pike on Apr 18, 2011 9:14:39 GMT -5
Reckony kept a firm plant on Conan's shoulder as he spied, what looked like, an emerald and auburn leprechaun at his front entrance. A partially-drowned emerald and auburn leprechaun. It was quite a sight to behold and the barkeep wondered whether fate was telling him the Three Broomsticks was not quite closed. This new visitor was clearly younger than most of his late-night clientele and he looked a little worse for wear. Reckony gave a heavy sigh, his conscience getting the better of him.
He threw a thankful look to Curse for the backup and then tiredly called out over his shoulder, "Nelly, be'er put a fire underneath those lanterns again. An' can you please pu' on a cocoa fer the little man. Ta, love."
Reckony's expression calmed as he made eye contact with the boy.
"You, lad, take a chair by the fire. And you", he whispered in to Conan's ear, "have a pleasant evening."[/i] He patted the man's shoulder and thought that that would send the message. He expected the man to leave on his own good recognizance. He gave the man a chance to leave on his own good recognizance.
Reckony spun on his heel, this time his arms were crossed.
"Curse, close yer ears. SERVICE IS CLOSED, FRIENDS, BU' YA CAN STAY FER A FEW MINUTES UNTIL THE RAIN LE'S UP. THANK YA, KINDLY."
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Post by Conan Breandan on Apr 18, 2011 20:17:39 GMT -5
"The demons are goin' nappy, as are you, Sparkle Cloak. Out!"
"Give my best to Baal. Drink an egg." Reckony gave a gentle push to Conan, followed by a very specific glance over his shoulder: that was code for the servers to cut the lanterns.
Conan’s good mood left nearly as swiftly as to be expected, he resisted the larger man’s grasp, managing somehow to twist with wiry dexterity and escape as he was pushed towards the door.
"This isn't a joke!" He snapped. Typical wizards! Here he had gone and put great effort into navigating the buckets of rain (he ignored the fact that the possibility of more alcohol had been a good motivating factor) to warn the damn wizarding elite of their danger, and they brushed him off! In fact, they threw him out of their establishment! He glowered at the taller man, rising to his full, commanding… five foot three inches. His posture said clearly that he wasn’t going to move.
And then he spied the Kameren. “I’m just warnin’ ye, Kameren!” He cried, pointing in the man’s direction. Now, remember to be terrified. He rolled seamlessly into the next portion of his act. He’d been perpetuating this act since he was a child, trying desperately to fit in in a society that wished nothing to do with him. His eyes were wild, only a small portion from the drink as he drew the sopping cloak about him for warmth.
“They suck the life right ou’ o’ ye, they do! Tell yer friend here, I know you’ve seen the demons!”
He drew a deep breath, trembling in the cold and wet. He was about to make another pronouncement when a thud interrupted him and a new person was swept in the door, blowing Conan to one side.
"Blisterin' banshees, 'tis...hold up," the newcomer pushed back the hood of the cloak, revealing the face of a young man, about 20 years old. Green eyes, a soaked mop of unruly reddish hair, and freckles. And a lack of height. His brow furrowed. "Wait a blinkin' minute, this isn't Hogwarts."
"have a pleasant evening."
“Get out of me face.” Conan told the man rudely, leaning away as the man entered his private bubble.
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Post by Reckony Pike on Apr 18, 2011 22:32:32 GMT -5
“Get out of me face.” Conan told the man rudely, leaning away as the man entered his private bubble.
Reckony furrowed at the man as though he were trying to translate his twitterings. The smallish, star-cloaked man was going on a great deal about something, and whether Reckony was simply too tired or too annoyed, he hardly has the mustard muster to deal with it tonight. Any of it.
"Get out of yer face? Oh, I'm sorry. You see, it's just tha' you've come in to my bar to terrorize my guests with your frustrations. Of carse there's bloody demons. They're everywhere. Hell, we even have demons living inside us. It's just tha' when people come here, they don' wan' a think about them. They're here a' half past one in the mornin to escape. We serve hope here, friend," Reckony removed himself from Conan's bubble and started back for the bar, snatching a towel from a table and moving to check on the status of the kid's hot drink.
As he passed Curse, he gave him a small nudge of thanks.
One more note to Conan...
"You can stay if ya sit by the fire and mind yer subject of conversation. I don' wanna hear about demons, darkness or dog biscuits from ya fer the rest of the night."
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Post by Curse Kameren on Apr 21, 2011 1:04:54 GMT -5
And suddenly, before the tension between the three men at the door could amount to anything, Ralin O'Faerlun stepped in and broke it up. It didn't even require any negotiation; he stepped in, remarked on the weather, and smiled. He probably didn't even know what he'd done. Curse's dark eyebrows disappeared into his white hairline, his stern gaze breaking into a smile for the young leprechaun whom he had met back in his auror days.
"Oy Curse, this isn't Hogwarts. It's Three Broomsticks. What're ye doin' here?"
"Night out, for once," He replied, clapping Ralin on the shoulder in greeting to surreptitiously nudge him past the warring wizards. "Can't get enough of the purple shite they have here. Its awful, but in the best way," He smiled crookedly, looking over his shoulder to give Reckony a look. If you need help, I've got your back.
The potions master took a seat across from Ralin by the fire, all the while keeping his green eyes on the two he'd left behind. He couldn't hear the exchange between the two near the door, but he kept an eye out for trouble. What Breandan had mentioned about the beasts unsettled Curse, however; the professor had been obsessively studying the magic-feeding night creatures since his brother's attack. He knew the signs, knew what to look for on a Beast-ridden night. He hadn't heard a thing: but could the storm be messing with his perceptions?
“I’m just warnin’ ye, Kameren!” He cried, pointing in the man’s direction. “They suck the life right ou’ o’ ye, they do! Tell yer friend here, I know you’ve seen the demons!”
The professor didn't voice a reply. He kept his emerald gaze on Breandan, one of his hands falling slowly into his pocket. His fingers touched metal; a small, concealed muggle gun was safety-locked in his jacket, just in case he would come across a beast in the night. Had he seen one, or was the story teller only doing what he did best?
Curse looked back at Ralin, his face emotionless. To anyone that knew Curse, it was obvious he was worried about something. He snapped himself out of the worry, however, his regular demeanor resuming as his emerald eyes watched the rain spatter on the window. "Rain came fast, It was hardly cloudly when I came in." He shrugged, his eyes turning warmly to Ralin. He smiled at the younger wizard, welcoming him again. "Good to see you again Ralin, its been a while. I can't remember the last time we saw each other. Bloody hell, must've been in my auror days..." It felt strange to Curse, referring to his time at the Ministry as 'old days'. It had been near two years since he dropped out of the Ministry.
Curse's eyes caught Pike, cocking his head as if to beckon him over to join them for more conversation. "Reckony Pike, this is Ralin O'Faerlun. Ralin, this is Reckony. Don't piss him off, he runs the place." He smiled crookely in jest at Ralin, relaxing back in his chair as his sight wandered back to the window. "What in Merlin's name brought you out on a night like this? Must be bloody mad. To go outdoors in this weather."
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Post by Fate on Apr 21, 2011 23:21:03 GMT -5
The rain poured heavily out of doors, a heavy deluge of spring rain that had come suddenly out of the north, barraging the small town. Not many humans stirred, the time and the rain keeping sensible folk indoors.
Uneffected by the rain as it ran over and through their slick, only partially tangible bodies, several demons roamed the dim streets, eyes glowing in the rain. They banged against the occasional door or window, but the magic ones they fed on had learned over the months, locking tight their houses and keeping to the safety of the indoors.
One building still cast slim fingers of light futilely into the weather, and an odd trio bumped against it, looking for a way in. Their search lasted a few minutes before they were forced to move on, unsatisfied.
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Post by Ralin O'Faerlun on Apr 22, 2011 0:04:04 GMT -5
Ralin had expected to just turn around (maybe by way of the kitchen, nicking a cookie or two) and head back out into the deluge, knowing the Three Broomsticks' hours. But he was relieved to find a warm welcome, both from the barkeep and from a familiar face. After all, he was dripping more water than a selkie in spring.
However, a quick wave of his wand dried up most of the water and the feeling began to creep back into his toes and fingers. Allowing himself to be ushered over to the fire, he fixed Curse with relieved smile.
"Heh, good t'see yer mug too Curse, tis been far too long," he shook some water out of his ears. "Glad I ran into you, matter o' fact. Sure an' I was headed to Hogwarts, when th' bloody storm decided to tango with me broomstick."
The young man's eyes twinkled. It had been a braw dance in the rain and wind and thunder, riding the whorls of wind and wet, but also an exhausting battle. He'd have to write to his brother and tell him all about it, he'd have a grin about it.
"I've been gone for a couple o' months overseas," he didn't mention why or where, keeping it apparently casually vague. "just returnin', I was given a room at Hogwarts t'stay th' night on me way back t' London, but when this storm hit, guess I got blown off track."
He winked a green eye at Reckony, "Thanks f'not kickin' me out, sorry I dripped an entire loch on yer floor. If yer good with Curse 'ere, then that's good by me too." Ralin held out a calloused hand to the older man.
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Post by Reckony Pike on Apr 22, 2011 20:38:53 GMT -5
Reckony placed two drinks on the table before Ralin and Curse, giving one to the young man before shaking his outstretched hand. He was surprised to see that such a youngin' had rough hands and considered Ralin rode his broom more than just to journey to Hogwarts.
"Pleasure to meet you, Ralin. Drink's on the house. Curse," Reckony slid the second drink over to the Potions Master, his being covered by a small film of blue light. "This is for Max. It's one of the few bits of magic I possess: I call it an EverHot. That seal will keep it warm until he drinks it." The barkeep pulled out a chair, turned it 'round and sat on it backwards, sneaking a peak over his guests' shoulders to spy what Breandan was doing.
Pike couldn't shake this feeling of cold that came over him and made a mental note to check the Three Broomsticks for drafts. It was more than a chill: it was almost like an icy hand found its way around his shoulders. He glanced at the fire - still raging full tilt. Maybe he was coming down with a cold.
"So Ralin, what's your story? You said you were overseas? I have some experience over there. Love the air"
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Post by Conan Breandan on Apr 24, 2011 22:49:24 GMT -5
"Get out of yer face? Oh, I'm sorry. You see, it's just tha' you've come in to my bar to terrorize my guests with your frustrations. Of carse there's bloody demons. They're everywhere. Hell, we even have demons living inside us. It's just tha' when people come here, they don' wan' a think about them. They're here a' half past one in the mornin to escape. We serve hope here, friend,"
Conan tuned the wizard’s long-winded harangue out, instead he turned and went towards the fire, determined to try and dry out a little before the magical elite threw him out. His cloak and soaked being dripped puddles onto the floor as he squished towards the large fireplace. He noted with sour envy as the red-headed lad got rid of the water he was deluged in with a simple flick of his wand. The Irish gypsy’s trembles had grown as his body attempted to throw off the bone-chilling cold of the April rain.
He took a seat on the wide brick ledge in front of the fire and took out a silver flask which he took several large sips from before secreting it again under his cloak. He shifted position, the roar of the fire heating one side of him uncomfortably.
Thudd. Thuthuthud.d.
Something thudded against the door. Conan at first ignored it, served whoever it was right, being out of doors at this time of night. Knowing what was out there. He took another drink, the fire drowning out the screeches that came to his finely tuned ears. But then he heard something that chilled his blood, despite his apathy, despite his familial distance. He bolted for the door, coming to his feet and making it halfway across the room in record time, his hands slipping beneath his cloak and emerging with long silver blades as he reached the door. He knew that voice, even screaming in terror and rage. And he couldn’t let her come to harm.
“Maebh!” He shouted, disappearing out the door and into the night.
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Post by Curse Kameren on Apr 24, 2011 23:03:55 GMT -5
"I've been gone for a couple o' months overseas," he didn't mention why or where, keeping it apparently casually vague. "just returnin', I was given a room at Hogwarts t'stay th' night on me way back t' London, but when this storm hit, guess I got blown off track."
Curse nodded as Ralin spoke to him, but his eyes never moved from the rain pouring on the window. Conan's reference to his nighttime activities unsettled him; there was something off about it, and there was no joking or teasing in Breandan's voice when he had spoken. There was legitimate warning, and Curse had never been known to take a warning lightly. Only a fool would do that, and pay dearly later because of it.
Thudd. Thuthuthud.d.
Curse was up in an instant. He looked out all the windows, his ears perked for another sign. It could have just been the wind. He closed his eyes, going to the window and re-opening them with the cat-like slits of his other form. He looked out in to the dark. There was a form.
And a scream.
The ex-auror whipped around his eyes narrowing on the only non-magical being in the room. Curse practically leapt over tables to the bar, leaning over and grabbing a knife from behind the bar. "Pike! Make sure everyone stays inside. Make sure!" His eyes were entirely serious; the cold-calculating look on the wizard's face told the patrons not to question him. He focussed on Breandan, pointing the handle of the knife in the gypsy's direction. "I need your help." His voice was low and urgent.
He pulled his gun out of his pocket and headed toward the door: he only had five bullets in this gun, so he better make them count.
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Post by Maebh Breandan on Apr 24, 2011 23:25:52 GMT -5
It was as if they were waiting for her. Who knew demons actually had brains? were they evolving? For weeks Maebh had been studying the creatures from inside her little bedroom above the Apothecary shop. They hadn't shown more sense than a blast ended skewt, running around, waiting for those few idiots who ventured outside. It was late when Maebh heard the sound.
CRACK!
The storm had obviously done something to her small rickety shop....or the wagon. Her old dear mum would sacrifice her to the demons herself if anything happened to that old box on wheels. Quickly Maebh ran down stairs to find her door blown off the hinges. This cannot be good. Maebh grabbed a grinding block and carefully went out side to find her door before the demons would see the opening and come inside.
To her horror and perverse amusement, two demons were playing tug of war with the rough wood while another jumped on it as if it were a trampoline. Strange noise emanated from the demons sending shivers down Maebh's spine. Were the demons laughing? Shocked, she didn't notice the other demon waiting in the shadows of her porch. It was difficult to hear the clinking of the claws over the roar of the rain. Wither by luck or something, Maebh glanced out of the corner of her eye and screamed. She threw the stone block at the creatures head and scrambled off the porch and down the street towards the nearest open establishment. The ThreeBroomsticks. As she ran, Maebh pulled off necklaces she had infused with her magic throwing them in different directions. Several of the demons shot after them, eager for the taste of her. It wasn't enough.
She was nearly there when she had to look behind her shoulder to see where they were. Bare feet fought for traction in the mud as she near the stairs. The glance behind had been near fatal and stupid of her. Just as maebh turn back around the side railing of the stairs jumped in front of her. With a loud crash, Maebh collided with the railing, bouncing backwards and landing on her back. A frustrated scream escaped her as she landed on her back. This was no way for a Breandan to act in a fight.
The demons did not waste an opportunity. Before Maebh could sit up properly and actually breath, they surrounded her.
The door opened, briefly shedding light on the situation before fading. Maebh did not glance back. She would not give the demons another chance to kill her.
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Post by Reckony Pike on Apr 25, 2011 9:56:50 GMT -5
Reckony was just about to tell Ralin of the Muggle ritual of "screeching" in the Canadian province of Newfoundland when his thoughts were disrupted by two, very loud, very distinguishable voices and a flurry of activity out the front door:
"Maebh!"
"Pike! Make sure everyone stays inside. Make sure!"
Reckony bolted upright, catching the second voice as coming from Curse. Looking around, he could see that Star Cloak had also disappeared. Taking the threat as legitimate, Pike beckoned for his servers to lock the various entrances from the inside and then clambered across the bar on his stomach to grab a Beater's bat. He pointed at the boy named Ralin and spoke softly but seriously:
"You've been promoted to Barkeep's Assistant. I need you to help the loves manage the crowd.
And then, in a much mighter voice:
"EVERYONE STAY INSIDE. NO EXCEPTIONS OR I'LL TOSS YOU THROUGH THE WHOMPING WILLOW."
Pike was about to take his station just outside the front door when he had a sudden thought. First, he wagered he did not know the nature of the threat and that a bat might be useless. Second, the inebriated Star Cloak man seemed to pinpoint Curse earlier and his agitation at him was palpable. The barkeep considered that this may have all been a rouse to get Kameren outside - alone. Flooded with worry, Pike ignored Curse's order and flew outside with the bat raised mightily.
"CURSE! I'M COMING"
In his adrenaline-fueled rescue, Pike failed to notice the demons. He didn't see the beautiful Maebh on the ground. All he saw was Breandan within striking distance of his new friend. Pike threw the bat, missing Breandan completely, but ironically hitting one demon. He tackled Star Cloak to the ground with a heavy thud.
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Post by Curse Kameren on Apr 25, 2011 20:33:21 GMT -5
Curse was hardly out the door when Reckony barreled out behind him. The bartender had a bat, though Curse wasn't sure how useful that'd be; he was quickly proved wrong when Pike took one out right by Breandan. His impressing feat was short-lived, however; Curse lunged after the bartender as he tackled Conan, his long fingers grabbing for the knife he'd given the gypsy. They couldn't fall with the knife; if the beasts smelled magical blood, they'd go into a frenzy.
"What the Hell are you doing?!" Curse yelled at Pike, gritting his teeth angrily as he looked up at the Demons. They were still hovering over the witch in their clutches, paying no attention to the three brawling men by the door.
Suddenly, a sharp pang of pain reached Curse's brain, and he looked down at his fist. He had grabbed the wrong end of the knife.
Tracts of dark pink blood gushed through his fingers and were washed away by the rain. He cursed, holding up his gun as one of the demons began to turn.
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Post by Conan Breandan on Apr 25, 2011 21:04:20 GMT -5
"CURSE! I'M COMING"
All was going fine: until Curse Kameren charged in, swinging a knife around and throwing his magicness in the faces of the demons. Breandan growled, lifting a long knife glinting with dark blood. He’d shed his cloak, using it as a matador’s cape to attract the demon, who otherwise had no interest in the idiotic human before it. Except that it had very sharp claws. Its low growl turned into a snarl of pain and fury as a bat brained it-- and kept moving, sluggishly, through its body.
Conan was borne to the ground by the force of the bigger man’s tackle, he squirmed, slashing indeterminately with his knives before he managed to extract himself from the clutches of both wizards, once again lunging towards the demons and Maebh. Ah Maebh. He grinned, showing white teeth in his dark face. She was fighting, a true Breandan to the core. Only a gypsy could be that conniving in a battle.
“Gitttraaooff!” He yelled inarticulately (perhaps drunk wasn’t the best time to fight…) slashing at the nearest demon before breaking through the circle to find his sister. “Some fight, eh kid?” He shouted over the rain.
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