[Healing 2/3]Rage and Possession
|| Just as she had expected them to, her sleep was flooded with nightmares, that thankfully only woke her peacefully. She had to say though, she was glad Damien had stayed, as that made them all the easier to deal with. Eventually she slept peacefully until she woke at a more decent hour, taking a deep breath. There was still pain, very much so, but at least it was getting a hell of a lot better than the original. She could probably walk now, though she knew it would hurt, feet sore like stepping on broken glass. You got used to the pain the longer it lived with you. Heaving another small sigh, she knew what she had to do that day, something she had failed to mention to Damien last night. Something he would never agree to in a million years, and that's all the more reason he couldn't know about it. Walking would hurt, but she had to. Perhaps she'd leave another message for Damien in her final moments, if that's what it came to. But she wasn't one to let a failed plan die. She would see it through to the end, even if it meant her own death. She didn't want to die, no... But if that somehow meant Damien had a better chance at life and happiness, then she was willing to do so. If she could talk to Lucedio at all before he went for a kill. If Damien stayed in the Dagger Manor and trained, without her, until he could properly defeat Lucedio, all would be well. That's all she had to remind herself of to give her the strength to finish off her plan. She shifts a little, before pulling a sleeping Damien closer to her, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead and cheek. It was getting late. "Hey, you. Wake up," she whispers into his ear, resting against him with closed eyes as she waited. She wouldn't leave until he was up and training. That is, if he was willing to leave her side.
|| A yawn escaped from Damien's lips as he moved his left arm around on Chava's face. "Oh, right. Hey, Chava." He sits up taking the time to stretch. Pulling himself out of the bed, to keep himself from falling asleep again. he moves over to the other side of the bed, leaning over and planting a kiss on her lips. "Let me guess, you want me to train?"
Chava returns the kiss with a small grin, keeping him down close to her for a moment so she could brush her fingers along his cheek. "Morning," she smirks, making as if to sit up herself, by habit, a wince escaping her. "I do, yes. Training is important you know, especially since your arm seems to be getting a little better." She keeps her voice as a whisper, grimacing softly. "You don't need to worry about me, I promise I'll stay right here." Would he buy it? Would he be willing to go?
| Damien narrows his eyes slightly, though he tried not to make it obvious. She was planning something, and wanted him out training or something. "I suppose it is." he says giving a half shrug. In reality he knew he probably wouldn't be training today. With the way his arm was going, he doubted he would need it all that much. "I suppose that's alright." No, he definitely wouldn't be training. He leans in for another kiss before walking out the door, closing it behind him. Silently he makes his way to the one of the empty rooms he used for his cauldron grabbing one of the recently brewed polyjuice potions, before walking out the front door, making sure that Chava could hear it being closed. He glanced around at the alleyway, noting one person walking down it. Subtly he went closer to the person, before yanking a hair out from their head. Walking to a bench across from the house, he puts the acquired hair into the bottle, making sure to only drink the bottle /after/ the man had left.
Chava accepted this kiss, smiling at him in hopes of getting rid of any suspicions he might have. She wasn't the greatest actor, obviously considering last night, but she hoped it would be enough to put Damien at rest. Breathing a sigh of relief as he goes, she stays in bed, sitting up, until she hears the door shut below. He was gone, this was good. He must have believed her. Sighing gratefully, she pulls herself out of bed with a groan, clutching her side carefully. Pulling her wand to her from the bedside, she casts a few charms, with whatever energy she had left, to clean off any left over blood or nasty wounds. She still didn't look too great, covered in healing cuts and burns, but she supposed it would be enough. However, she didn't make the same mistake twice, pulling on her coat and tucking her wand into it. She would have to defend herself if absolutely necessary. Waiting a few moments for Damien to get far enough away, Chava pulls herself downstairs and out the door, through the bow bustling street of Knockturn, to finish her plan.
|| Rather bored, was he. His ingredients were low. His house was empty. No screams. No cries. The silence was driving him mad! He could wait for the bloody idiot of a man he associates with to come back and play with him instead, but his associate wouldn't be back for a few more hours. He just /had/ to get out of the house. Deciding to stock up, the man swings his immaculate cloak around his shoulders. His clothes were pristine, as he had to keep up appearances of a "good hearted Samaritan." The man snorts. What bullshit. He was anything but "good hearted." And much less a Samaritan. He found joy out of the pain of others, and out of the use he can take. With his wand tucked into his wand pocket, and his clothes wrinkle and spot free, he steps from his house and apparates to Knockturn Alley. Oh, how he /adored/ this place. It was always perfect suiting his needs, whether it be physical or nay. The man scans the alleyways for anything of interest. It wasn't until he let out a frustrated sigh of boredom at having reached the shop he would buy his ingredients from, and not having seen a single person that could change his darkening psych; that he spotted a woman. He could almost smirk - in fact, he does. No one who knew his facade ever came to this notorious part of Knockturn. This meant he could let himself loose. The man clears his throat, pops the length of his jacket, and makes his was over to the woman. By the devil, did she look like she escaped hell. But that made the man smile wickedly. From one hell to the next. Alive or dead. "Excuse me," he purrs in a melodious accent, dipping his head in greeting to hide his devilish grin. "Do you happen to know of excellent ingredient shops? For potions." He opts to clarify. He'd have to play good if he was to get this haggard women home, and to have some fun with her. ||
|| For once in his life, Damien was glad he looked so boring. Walking through the Alleyways of Knocturn, following Chava, he was never stopped, nor was he ever given any strange looks. He stopped here and there to make sure he didn't seem too much like a stalker. Ripping an abandoned newspaper from the ground, he made his way to a nearby bench as Chava was stopped. He pulled open the newspaper, pretending to read, while keeping an eye out on Chava, just in case. He got a bad feeling from the man, but he figured that he could always bind him with his wand if he tried he'd met quite a lot of Aurors in his lifetime, so he felt he could pass himself off as one.
Chava had attempted pacing around the streets of Knockturn, looking down alleyways and shop windows for any signs. She was there in plain sight, not when bothering to disguise herself, so if Lucedio was around, what would stop him? It was like she was waiting for him, and really she was. She heaves a sigh, turning to head in the opposite direction, before she's stopped by the presence of a man. A very pristine, important looking man at that. She blinks a few times, having almost ran into him, before taking some steps backwards. "Oh! Uh..." she fumbles on her words, curling her arms around herself, before shaking herself out of her immediate shock. "Depends on what kind of potion you're looking to make, I suppose. There are some lovely ones here and down in Diagon." She nods, satisfied, before taking another step back to casually lean against the wall. "There's a shop just down this street that has just about anything."
|| The man managed to paint a sincere, gratifying smile onto his face as he looks up. His head is tilted slightly, in wonderment, at how the woman stuttered. Did he truly catch her in surprise? He had been quite; the man had learned early on that the less noise was better, especially for gleaning victims. His hands twitched, hardly noticeable unless one was looking specifically at hands. Standing straight, and hearing her words, he inclines his head. "If you are not busy, may I ask for your guidance?" He plays well, a sheepish look. His delicate hand - ideal for cutting up his victims, or plucking them clean - rubs the back of his neck. "You see, I'm not too knowledgeable of the likes of this place. I'm afraid I may also be lost." It would work well for him, should the woman agree. He could snatch her and apparate as they walk. And if she were to decline? Well, a catch of a wrist or shoulder shouldn't be too troublesome. If she was to he splinched, well, it would make harming her that much more fun. "A pretty lady like you seems like the best company. Especially in a place like this". Now his smile turned warm and inviting, even though he wanting nothing more to grab the woman and go. Perhaps, he may do just that. ||
Chava tilts her head curiously at the man, trying to figure him out, exactly. She had no trust for strangers, but this one seemed to be somewhat sincere. Not that she could trust that, either, and besides, she had things to do, someone to look out for, and this man meant nothing to her, so why should she help him too much? She plasters a smile on her face, leaning back once more against the brick wall, shoving her hands in her pockets. She shakes her head slightly at his invitation. "I'm afraid I am busy," she says sincerely, shrugging her shoulders. Sure, helping the man wouldn't hurt her- it might even help her cover more ground- but she was never the type to help strangers. Leave them to their own devices and not get in the way. She tips her head to him, before motioning her head down the street. "The place is about five doors down. I promise you'll find what you're looking for."
| Damien had about fifteen minutes to half an hour before the potion wore off, so he would really be pushing it if he were to act. With a sigh he realized exactly why he got a bad feeling from the man. The man reminded him too much of himself. There were some clear differences as well, namely the man looked more presentable, but he recognized the look in his eyes. He got up, placing the newspaper on the bench behind him before walking over to the two. Recognizing what the man was about to do, he rushed forward, grabbing onto Chava's hand.
|| The man could not help the scowl that slowly bloomed across his face at her denial, his smile no longer plastered upon his face. For the best, too. His cheeks were beginning to twitch. "I know about that place," he growls, taking a few steps towards the woman. "I almost walked in it before I saw you." He towers in front of the woman, reaching out to brush his fingers against her cheek, tugging back a strand of her hair. Then his hand clamps onto her shoulder. "I have to have you." His voice was surreal, but gravelly. Before his world twists in darkness, the man sees a plain looking man clutch onto the woman's hand. His snarls, his wand whipping out as they land outside his home. It was big, meant for a big family or a rich man. Like himself. "Who the fuck are you?!" He steps towards the strange man, making to wrap his arm around the woman to pull her away, flicking his wand, casting Flippendo in his direction. He would not have a random man ruining his fun. But he also didn't want to waste his murdering the man unless he absolutely had to. ||
|| A flick of his dagger, which was now more magically resistant, and he deflected the spell sent at him. "I could ask you the same thing." He steps forward, swinging the blade to cut the man's wand in half. This man would not be able to escape him through any means. He wouldn't allow it. "I can't just have some amateur taking what is /mine/." As he spoke, his features began to change, revealing who he really was. He reached out aiming to grab a hand around the man's throat. "I'm not surprised I wasn't recognized, while I was under polyjuice." Without even giving it a second thought, his right arm shot up and separated Chava from the man. "But I'm somewhat known in the underworld." His now steel gray eyes bored into the man's before leaning in and whispering, his eyes looking as if he was barely stopping himself from killing right there, "My name is Damien Thorne." He says as his appearance finally fully takes his own.
|| The second the man had touched her, Chava was already scowling and reaching for her wand, if only to teach him not to underestimate her. What she hadn't expected, however, was the onrush of activity that came next. The man gripped her shoulder and spun on the spot, just as another random man took her hand and came along with. And as weak as she was, apparation /hurt./ It drained her, and she was lucky she wasn't splinched- though it did feel as if wounds were reopening. A gasp, and she tries to knock over the man the second they arrive, before toppling and watching the scene. Who the hell was this random man and what was he doing following them? Perhaps some Auror? It seemed likely. All began to make more sense however when he began to speak. Take what was his? Oh. Oh, she started to understand. And she was right, as his feature started to shift into exactly what she feared, though was also very grateful for. There was still Polyjuice potion back at the Dagger Manor, and of course Damien hadn't believed her. She was surprised it took him this long to come get her, frankly. "Oh Fuck," she groans, moving as if to scramble over to Damien. She didn't say another word, rather worried. But still, she held her wand at her side, determined to help even in her state. If she could.
|| Although his blade was split in half, he was still wickedly skilled at wandless magic. He never felt a need to carry his weapons with him, he had always been able to get his victim into his home with no problem. But then, he never had a third party join before. And not one that could make his reflexes spark, as he hadn't needed them in years. No one had given the man such trouble. As it was, he was hardly able to dodge the reach for his neck. In moving to the side, the woman was free to be pulled away. His icy blue gaze chilled, boring into the male stranger's steel ones. "Damien Thorne?" He snarls. Of all the people. Never did the man think he'd live to see a myth become truth. He mumbles a noise, which loudens to a boisterous laugh. "Surely you jest." The man shakes his head, twisting his wrist, pretending as if he'd punch the other man. But instead he casts Alarte Ascendare, wanting to knock the man up and away from him. He was bored before, but this? This was fun! This was entertaining! The man completely forgets about the woman. He could have her later, after he killed Damien Thorne. ||
| Damien had recognized the punch for what it was, he'd pulled the same move off several times. It was a distraction. The man didn't have any other weapon, so the only explanation was wandless magic. He knocked the fist out of the way, before ducking down to avoid the spell. "Do I look like I'm joking?" He used the position to place a hand on the floor, sweeping his leg out to try and kick the man's leg out from under him. Without waiting another second, he jumps up and backwards, flicking up one of his knives, holding it with two fingers, while the rest holds the dagger, before throwing the knife at the man. "And I'll certainly be having a feast once you're gone." He brings the dagger up, readying himself just in case. "I'd say let this be a lesson to not touch what is mine, but you won't be able to learn from it when I'm through with you."
Chava was thankful the man's focus was diverted, as it gave her a better opportunity to do something, rather than just sit there and whimper in pain. Watching Damien for a moment, she grips her wand, edging backwards, hoping to make it look to the man like she was going to escape. She moved behind the man while Damien had him distracted, her wand held at his back. She wouldn't do anything, not yet, mostly there as a just in case. After all, any strong spells might only serve to hurt her further. But if the man hurt Damien... she wouldn't care what hurt her, she would do it. Perhaps, if the man noticed her and thought she was escaping, she would be a good enough distraction for him to turn around, give Damien even more of an upper hand. If not, she would still keep her wand in hand, ready to strike.
|| He was expecting the Thorne to dodge his attack, since it was so elementary, but he wasn't expecting the retaliation. For a moment, he felt air, then his back thumps against the ground. With hardly a grunt, the man rights himself in time to catch the knife, although hastily. It pierced his palm, he hadn't bothered to catch it correctly. Besides, the pain focused him even more. He adjusts the blade, holding it expertly before grinning. His eyes flick around for the woman, wanting to see her, wanted to see what she though of him. Did she think he was losing? Weak? Did he have to step up? But he couldn't find her in front of him. He growls, turning his body to look behind him. Would she really run? He thought she'd be stronger than that. But, no. She was behind him, a determined, cold look on her face. "Pretty woman," He purrs, moving back so he could see the man and the woman, the knife twirling between his fingers. Attack the man or attack the woman? Looking weak enough, he smirks and lunches for the woman, using his hand to project a shield charm in case Thorne decided to blast him for aiming to touch "what is his." Although he lunches for her, aiming to grip her wrist and twist the wand from her hand, he flicks the knife towards her knee. Perhaps if his aim was true, he could catch her and apparate away from this situation. He had other places to go and have his fun. "Let us go home." He tells her. ||
|| A slight grin appeared on his face as his knife cut through the man's hand, but scowled as it appeared that it didn't phase the man at all. His blade twisted in his hand, realizing that the man's focus had been diverted. He paused a moment to let himself fade fully into the background before noticing that the man was diving for Chava. He snarled and dived forward, before shifting to the side. He expected some sort of spell or shield to be coming at him, so he shifted to the side, aiming his dagger to jab right into the man's side. As if that wasn't enough, he would twist the blade and drag it up. "WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!" He reaches out, his right hand seeming to work as he wanted, grabbing at the man's neck. He'd been spending a lot of time locking his muscles up to practice, so his grip was tighter than it would have been. "DON'T. TOUCH. WHAT. IS. /MINE/!" With this, he sheathed his dagger briefly, before switching his hold to his left hand, using both hands to try and throw the man across the room.
Chava had been a tad bit upset that the man didn't turn completely around to face her, but Damien seemed to make do with what he had. She herself aimed to jab the point of her wand into the man's eye, just as Damien lunged forward. Widening her eyes at his attack, she kicks her legs outward, pushing herself away from the man, and letting Damien do as he pleased. Upset that the man had the nerve to touch her and try to hurt and kill Damien, Chava could have killed the man herself, but figured Damien would want the honors- she was happy to watch. Hearing his words and watching his attack, a smile makes its way onto her lips, thinking her boyfriend was quite a sight to see when he was so angry. She moves closer once more, before almost casually shooting a few curses from her wand in the man's direction. "Mind if I help a little?" she muses, after Damien had made to toss the man. Crucio had never looked so desirable before.
|| Of course he was expecting the man to come after him, but his focus was too centered on the woman. He didn't see Throne get closer until the dagger ripped through his skin, sending white flames in his mind's eye. When twisted and tugged upwards, the man yelps, a long groan pulling from his lips. He goes onto his toes, trying to alleviate the pressure against his ribs by the dagger. His own hands shoot out, trying to cast a Relashio jinx, trying to loosen Thorne's hold against him. "I want her," He growls lowly, straining his neck. His leg kicks out, aiming for the man's knee. But that only allowed Thorne to grip him tightly and throw him across the room. He knocks into the wall, falling to his side. Pain bloomed up his side and across his stomach. He just managed to cast a weak shield charm, blocking all but one curse, causing the man to let loose a frustrated scream. Never had he been this over taken before. He'd never lost. He couldn't lose! The man struggles to his feet, his stare cold and violent. He hisses, but stares at the woman with narrowed eyes. "As much as I wouldn't mind you inflicting pain upon me, I must rather keep that in private quarters." His gaze flicks to Damien again. His hand lashes out, conjuring a cutting spell. He was pissed off now. He flicked three more before he stops, hunching over to take deep breathes. Blood trickled down his side. "Damien Thorne." The man barks, voice booming despite the pain. He had to believe he could live. He's done it before. "Let us end this!" ||
|| A simple shield kept him safe from the relashio that threatened to loosen his grip. Shields were safe, he could cast them without too much of a problem. "You really are an amateur." he sneered after the man slammed into a wall. "WELL YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!" Chava's voice calmed him down slightly, but not by much. "You may, but his life is /mine/" He flicked his hand, casting a shield charm to stop the cutting charms in their path. Two shield spells. They only took a small toll, so he was still fine, for the most part. His arm lay limply again, but he ignored that fact as he walked towards the man, driving his blade down, aiming for the man's chest. "YOU DON'T GET TO SPEAK TO HER LIKE THAT!" He ripped the blade back, before attempting to drive the blade back again two times. "I agree." he spoke softly with a harsh tone. "Let us end this." With that, he yanked the blade back, before attempting to stab the man's neck.
|| Despite everything, a small smile remained on Chava's face, almost flattered by Damien's anger. Most would run, but to her it was kind of attractive. Her grin widened at the idea of helping, all the more pissed off when the man sent cutting curses after Damien. The second they were casted, Chava growled, and send her own curse flying towards the man, angry enough for the cruciatus curse. After she got her own piece in she allowed Damien his, watching with wide eyes. The man stood absolutely no chance next to Damien, he never did. And she always enjoyed watching Damien torture and kill.
|| To be quite honest, he knew he was going to die. Although he hoped the woman would have been the one to kill him. Not this brute of a man. "Someone will take her." He grumbles, breathing a shaky breath. "Or she will be taken from you." The man shifts his body as Thorne came closer, the blade digging into his right breast. The man grits his teeth before snapping his jaw. He caught sight of the limp arm as he was preyed upon, and now he grips for that arm, wanting to yank it with all his might. Possibly whip it and dislocate it. But as he started to do so, white hot pain encompassed his body and he screamed. It had been years since he had felt the effects of this spell. This Unforgivable. His body spasmed, his hands tightening, whether they were still wrapped around the arm or not, he couldn't tell. "You BITCH!" The man grounds out before his body stops, in shock. The last stab was closer to her heart. Da-THUMP. Pause. Da-THUMP. Although it still felt like a thousand knives were stabbing him repeatedly, the man managed to spit out one more thing. "I'll see you in the Underworld soon, Damien Thorne." And that was all he /could/ say. Because, just then, the dagger pierced through his common carotid artery, cutting off blood flow to the brain. Not only did the man start to gasp for air, not knowing how to tell his body to breathe, he was choking on blood. His hands pulled and clawed. His last action of his last dying breath? His hand flicks and he mutters a quick cutting curse against Damien's arm. The man hoped the proximity would mean he hit true and deep. His icy gaze turns from cold to null, and he stops spasming for air. His hands drop to the ground, and blood dribbles from his mouth, and onto the ground. His last imprint on the earth. ||
|| Though his right arm was yanked, with nothing really happening to it, and he was hit with a cutting curse, he focused on neither of these things. No, he kept stabbing the man over and over again, even when blood pooled out of the man, and it was clear he was dead. He had never once been as pissed as he was now, and didn't expect him to get as pissed ever again. "The only way she'll ever be taken from me, is if she leaves voluntarily!" He stands up from the body, having stabbed the corpse enough times for his liking, he sheathed the blade, before reaching for wand. His next act would certainly make him tired, if not exhausted. He aimed his wand at the corpse before casting two explosion spells in quick succession. He puts his wand away, before walking over to Chava. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulls her closer to him, before planting a kiss on her lips. "You're mine." He says softly.
Chava didn't once stop Damien is his demolition of the man's body, instead admiring his want to see it through to the end. She only stopped staring at the charred remains of the man when he walked over to her. She was only slightly caught off guard for a moment, before slipping her arms around his torso, returning the kiss in confirmation. "Of course," she responds, gripping tighter to him. In one way it might be seen as possessiveness or a sign of affection, but she mainly did it to hold herself up- she was completely worn out from the curse she cast, and felt she might collapse right there; everything hurt. She moves one arm to brush her fingers across his cheek, grimacing. "Nor do I plan on leaving you voluntarily, in case you were wondering." She sighs, leaning her head on him. She was just waiting for him to be upset with her, for him to bring up the fact that she had, in fact, lied earlier about staying in bed and instead went out. She was waiting for him to ask her intentions, and she still didn't plan on telling him. "You're cute when you're possessive," she smirks, in some means to distract him.
| Damien sets his chin on top of her head, before a smirk on his face. He wasn't going to let anyone steal her away. Not some pathetic amateur, not his brother. No one. He frowned slightly at her statement of not leaving him, wanting to press the issue, but deciding that this wasn't the right time. He was exhausted, and she seemed to be the same. Not to mention her wounds from last night must have been hurting like hell. "I'm hardly cute." he says leaning back to look at her, his hand still curled around her. "Terrifying, maybe. Evil, definitely. Crazy... well at times. But cute?" he shook his head slightly, before furrowing his brows again. "Let's get you home. You look like hell." He glanced around the home, craning his neck to see out one the windows as if trying to see where they were. He turned his gaze back towards Chava before joking with a wink, "Your place or mine?"
|| A yawn escaped from Damien's lips as he moved his left arm around on Chava's face. "Oh, right. Hey, Chava." He sits up taking the time to stretch. Pulling himself out of the bed, to keep himself from falling asleep again. he moves over to the other side of the bed, leaning over and planting a kiss on her lips. "Let me guess, you want me to train?"
Chava returns the kiss with a small grin, keeping him down close to her for a moment so she could brush her fingers along his cheek. "Morning," she smirks, making as if to sit up herself, by habit, a wince escaping her. "I do, yes. Training is important you know, especially since your arm seems to be getting a little better." She keeps her voice as a whisper, grimacing softly. "You don't need to worry about me, I promise I'll stay right here." Would he buy it? Would he be willing to go?
| Damien narrows his eyes slightly, though he tried not to make it obvious. She was planning something, and wanted him out training or something. "I suppose it is." he says giving a half shrug. In reality he knew he probably wouldn't be training today. With the way his arm was going, he doubted he would need it all that much. "I suppose that's alright." No, he definitely wouldn't be training. He leans in for another kiss before walking out the door, closing it behind him. Silently he makes his way to the one of the empty rooms he used for his cauldron grabbing one of the recently brewed polyjuice potions, before walking out the front door, making sure that Chava could hear it being closed. He glanced around at the alleyway, noting one person walking down it. Subtly he went closer to the person, before yanking a hair out from their head. Walking to a bench across from the house, he puts the acquired hair into the bottle, making sure to only drink the bottle /after/ the man had left.
Chava accepted this kiss, smiling at him in hopes of getting rid of any suspicions he might have. She wasn't the greatest actor, obviously considering last night, but she hoped it would be enough to put Damien at rest. Breathing a sigh of relief as he goes, she stays in bed, sitting up, until she hears the door shut below. He was gone, this was good. He must have believed her. Sighing gratefully, she pulls herself out of bed with a groan, clutching her side carefully. Pulling her wand to her from the bedside, she casts a few charms, with whatever energy she had left, to clean off any left over blood or nasty wounds. She still didn't look too great, covered in healing cuts and burns, but she supposed it would be enough. However, she didn't make the same mistake twice, pulling on her coat and tucking her wand into it. She would have to defend herself if absolutely necessary. Waiting a few moments for Damien to get far enough away, Chava pulls herself downstairs and out the door, through the bow bustling street of Knockturn, to finish her plan.
|| Rather bored, was he. His ingredients were low. His house was empty. No screams. No cries. The silence was driving him mad! He could wait for the bloody idiot of a man he associates with to come back and play with him instead, but his associate wouldn't be back for a few more hours. He just /had/ to get out of the house. Deciding to stock up, the man swings his immaculate cloak around his shoulders. His clothes were pristine, as he had to keep up appearances of a "good hearted Samaritan." The man snorts. What bullshit. He was anything but "good hearted." And much less a Samaritan. He found joy out of the pain of others, and out of the use he can take. With his wand tucked into his wand pocket, and his clothes wrinkle and spot free, he steps from his house and apparates to Knockturn Alley. Oh, how he /adored/ this place. It was always perfect suiting his needs, whether it be physical or nay. The man scans the alleyways for anything of interest. It wasn't until he let out a frustrated sigh of boredom at having reached the shop he would buy his ingredients from, and not having seen a single person that could change his darkening psych; that he spotted a woman. He could almost smirk - in fact, he does. No one who knew his facade ever came to this notorious part of Knockturn. This meant he could let himself loose. The man clears his throat, pops the length of his jacket, and makes his was over to the woman. By the devil, did she look like she escaped hell. But that made the man smile wickedly. From one hell to the next. Alive or dead. "Excuse me," he purrs in a melodious accent, dipping his head in greeting to hide his devilish grin. "Do you happen to know of excellent ingredient shops? For potions." He opts to clarify. He'd have to play good if he was to get this haggard women home, and to have some fun with her. ||
|| For once in his life, Damien was glad he looked so boring. Walking through the Alleyways of Knocturn, following Chava, he was never stopped, nor was he ever given any strange looks. He stopped here and there to make sure he didn't seem too much like a stalker. Ripping an abandoned newspaper from the ground, he made his way to a nearby bench as Chava was stopped. He pulled open the newspaper, pretending to read, while keeping an eye out on Chava, just in case. He got a bad feeling from the man, but he figured that he could always bind him with his wand if he tried he'd met quite a lot of Aurors in his lifetime, so he felt he could pass himself off as one.
Chava had attempted pacing around the streets of Knockturn, looking down alleyways and shop windows for any signs. She was there in plain sight, not when bothering to disguise herself, so if Lucedio was around, what would stop him? It was like she was waiting for him, and really she was. She heaves a sigh, turning to head in the opposite direction, before she's stopped by the presence of a man. A very pristine, important looking man at that. She blinks a few times, having almost ran into him, before taking some steps backwards. "Oh! Uh..." she fumbles on her words, curling her arms around herself, before shaking herself out of her immediate shock. "Depends on what kind of potion you're looking to make, I suppose. There are some lovely ones here and down in Diagon." She nods, satisfied, before taking another step back to casually lean against the wall. "There's a shop just down this street that has just about anything."
|| The man managed to paint a sincere, gratifying smile onto his face as he looks up. His head is tilted slightly, in wonderment, at how the woman stuttered. Did he truly catch her in surprise? He had been quite; the man had learned early on that the less noise was better, especially for gleaning victims. His hands twitched, hardly noticeable unless one was looking specifically at hands. Standing straight, and hearing her words, he inclines his head. "If you are not busy, may I ask for your guidance?" He plays well, a sheepish look. His delicate hand - ideal for cutting up his victims, or plucking them clean - rubs the back of his neck. "You see, I'm not too knowledgeable of the likes of this place. I'm afraid I may also be lost." It would work well for him, should the woman agree. He could snatch her and apparate as they walk. And if she were to decline? Well, a catch of a wrist or shoulder shouldn't be too troublesome. If she was to he splinched, well, it would make harming her that much more fun. "A pretty lady like you seems like the best company. Especially in a place like this". Now his smile turned warm and inviting, even though he wanting nothing more to grab the woman and go. Perhaps, he may do just that. ||
Chava tilts her head curiously at the man, trying to figure him out, exactly. She had no trust for strangers, but this one seemed to be somewhat sincere. Not that she could trust that, either, and besides, she had things to do, someone to look out for, and this man meant nothing to her, so why should she help him too much? She plasters a smile on her face, leaning back once more against the brick wall, shoving her hands in her pockets. She shakes her head slightly at his invitation. "I'm afraid I am busy," she says sincerely, shrugging her shoulders. Sure, helping the man wouldn't hurt her- it might even help her cover more ground- but she was never the type to help strangers. Leave them to their own devices and not get in the way. She tips her head to him, before motioning her head down the street. "The place is about five doors down. I promise you'll find what you're looking for."
| Damien had about fifteen minutes to half an hour before the potion wore off, so he would really be pushing it if he were to act. With a sigh he realized exactly why he got a bad feeling from the man. The man reminded him too much of himself. There were some clear differences as well, namely the man looked more presentable, but he recognized the look in his eyes. He got up, placing the newspaper on the bench behind him before walking over to the two. Recognizing what the man was about to do, he rushed forward, grabbing onto Chava's hand.
|| The man could not help the scowl that slowly bloomed across his face at her denial, his smile no longer plastered upon his face. For the best, too. His cheeks were beginning to twitch. "I know about that place," he growls, taking a few steps towards the woman. "I almost walked in it before I saw you." He towers in front of the woman, reaching out to brush his fingers against her cheek, tugging back a strand of her hair. Then his hand clamps onto her shoulder. "I have to have you." His voice was surreal, but gravelly. Before his world twists in darkness, the man sees a plain looking man clutch onto the woman's hand. His snarls, his wand whipping out as they land outside his home. It was big, meant for a big family or a rich man. Like himself. "Who the fuck are you?!" He steps towards the strange man, making to wrap his arm around the woman to pull her away, flicking his wand, casting Flippendo in his direction. He would not have a random man ruining his fun. But he also didn't want to waste his murdering the man unless he absolutely had to. ||
|| A flick of his dagger, which was now more magically resistant, and he deflected the spell sent at him. "I could ask you the same thing." He steps forward, swinging the blade to cut the man's wand in half. This man would not be able to escape him through any means. He wouldn't allow it. "I can't just have some amateur taking what is /mine/." As he spoke, his features began to change, revealing who he really was. He reached out aiming to grab a hand around the man's throat. "I'm not surprised I wasn't recognized, while I was under polyjuice." Without even giving it a second thought, his right arm shot up and separated Chava from the man. "But I'm somewhat known in the underworld." His now steel gray eyes bored into the man's before leaning in and whispering, his eyes looking as if he was barely stopping himself from killing right there, "My name is Damien Thorne." He says as his appearance finally fully takes his own.
|| The second the man had touched her, Chava was already scowling and reaching for her wand, if only to teach him not to underestimate her. What she hadn't expected, however, was the onrush of activity that came next. The man gripped her shoulder and spun on the spot, just as another random man took her hand and came along with. And as weak as she was, apparation /hurt./ It drained her, and she was lucky she wasn't splinched- though it did feel as if wounds were reopening. A gasp, and she tries to knock over the man the second they arrive, before toppling and watching the scene. Who the hell was this random man and what was he doing following them? Perhaps some Auror? It seemed likely. All began to make more sense however when he began to speak. Take what was his? Oh. Oh, she started to understand. And she was right, as his feature started to shift into exactly what she feared, though was also very grateful for. There was still Polyjuice potion back at the Dagger Manor, and of course Damien hadn't believed her. She was surprised it took him this long to come get her, frankly. "Oh Fuck," she groans, moving as if to scramble over to Damien. She didn't say another word, rather worried. But still, she held her wand at her side, determined to help even in her state. If she could.
|| Although his blade was split in half, he was still wickedly skilled at wandless magic. He never felt a need to carry his weapons with him, he had always been able to get his victim into his home with no problem. But then, he never had a third party join before. And not one that could make his reflexes spark, as he hadn't needed them in years. No one had given the man such trouble. As it was, he was hardly able to dodge the reach for his neck. In moving to the side, the woman was free to be pulled away. His icy blue gaze chilled, boring into the male stranger's steel ones. "Damien Thorne?" He snarls. Of all the people. Never did the man think he'd live to see a myth become truth. He mumbles a noise, which loudens to a boisterous laugh. "Surely you jest." The man shakes his head, twisting his wrist, pretending as if he'd punch the other man. But instead he casts Alarte Ascendare, wanting to knock the man up and away from him. He was bored before, but this? This was fun! This was entertaining! The man completely forgets about the woman. He could have her later, after he killed Damien Thorne. ||
| Damien had recognized the punch for what it was, he'd pulled the same move off several times. It was a distraction. The man didn't have any other weapon, so the only explanation was wandless magic. He knocked the fist out of the way, before ducking down to avoid the spell. "Do I look like I'm joking?" He used the position to place a hand on the floor, sweeping his leg out to try and kick the man's leg out from under him. Without waiting another second, he jumps up and backwards, flicking up one of his knives, holding it with two fingers, while the rest holds the dagger, before throwing the knife at the man. "And I'll certainly be having a feast once you're gone." He brings the dagger up, readying himself just in case. "I'd say let this be a lesson to not touch what is mine, but you won't be able to learn from it when I'm through with you."
Chava was thankful the man's focus was diverted, as it gave her a better opportunity to do something, rather than just sit there and whimper in pain. Watching Damien for a moment, she grips her wand, edging backwards, hoping to make it look to the man like she was going to escape. She moved behind the man while Damien had him distracted, her wand held at his back. She wouldn't do anything, not yet, mostly there as a just in case. After all, any strong spells might only serve to hurt her further. But if the man hurt Damien... she wouldn't care what hurt her, she would do it. Perhaps, if the man noticed her and thought she was escaping, she would be a good enough distraction for him to turn around, give Damien even more of an upper hand. If not, she would still keep her wand in hand, ready to strike.
|| He was expecting the Thorne to dodge his attack, since it was so elementary, but he wasn't expecting the retaliation. For a moment, he felt air, then his back thumps against the ground. With hardly a grunt, the man rights himself in time to catch the knife, although hastily. It pierced his palm, he hadn't bothered to catch it correctly. Besides, the pain focused him even more. He adjusts the blade, holding it expertly before grinning. His eyes flick around for the woman, wanting to see her, wanted to see what she though of him. Did she think he was losing? Weak? Did he have to step up? But he couldn't find her in front of him. He growls, turning his body to look behind him. Would she really run? He thought she'd be stronger than that. But, no. She was behind him, a determined, cold look on her face. "Pretty woman," He purrs, moving back so he could see the man and the woman, the knife twirling between his fingers. Attack the man or attack the woman? Looking weak enough, he smirks and lunches for the woman, using his hand to project a shield charm in case Thorne decided to blast him for aiming to touch "what is his." Although he lunches for her, aiming to grip her wrist and twist the wand from her hand, he flicks the knife towards her knee. Perhaps if his aim was true, he could catch her and apparate away from this situation. He had other places to go and have his fun. "Let us go home." He tells her. ||
|| A slight grin appeared on his face as his knife cut through the man's hand, but scowled as it appeared that it didn't phase the man at all. His blade twisted in his hand, realizing that the man's focus had been diverted. He paused a moment to let himself fade fully into the background before noticing that the man was diving for Chava. He snarled and dived forward, before shifting to the side. He expected some sort of spell or shield to be coming at him, so he shifted to the side, aiming his dagger to jab right into the man's side. As if that wasn't enough, he would twist the blade and drag it up. "WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!" He reaches out, his right hand seeming to work as he wanted, grabbing at the man's neck. He'd been spending a lot of time locking his muscles up to practice, so his grip was tighter than it would have been. "DON'T. TOUCH. WHAT. IS. /MINE/!" With this, he sheathed his dagger briefly, before switching his hold to his left hand, using both hands to try and throw the man across the room.
Chava had been a tad bit upset that the man didn't turn completely around to face her, but Damien seemed to make do with what he had. She herself aimed to jab the point of her wand into the man's eye, just as Damien lunged forward. Widening her eyes at his attack, she kicks her legs outward, pushing herself away from the man, and letting Damien do as he pleased. Upset that the man had the nerve to touch her and try to hurt and kill Damien, Chava could have killed the man herself, but figured Damien would want the honors- she was happy to watch. Hearing his words and watching his attack, a smile makes its way onto her lips, thinking her boyfriend was quite a sight to see when he was so angry. She moves closer once more, before almost casually shooting a few curses from her wand in the man's direction. "Mind if I help a little?" she muses, after Damien had made to toss the man. Crucio had never looked so desirable before.
|| Of course he was expecting the man to come after him, but his focus was too centered on the woman. He didn't see Throne get closer until the dagger ripped through his skin, sending white flames in his mind's eye. When twisted and tugged upwards, the man yelps, a long groan pulling from his lips. He goes onto his toes, trying to alleviate the pressure against his ribs by the dagger. His own hands shoot out, trying to cast a Relashio jinx, trying to loosen Thorne's hold against him. "I want her," He growls lowly, straining his neck. His leg kicks out, aiming for the man's knee. But that only allowed Thorne to grip him tightly and throw him across the room. He knocks into the wall, falling to his side. Pain bloomed up his side and across his stomach. He just managed to cast a weak shield charm, blocking all but one curse, causing the man to let loose a frustrated scream. Never had he been this over taken before. He'd never lost. He couldn't lose! The man struggles to his feet, his stare cold and violent. He hisses, but stares at the woman with narrowed eyes. "As much as I wouldn't mind you inflicting pain upon me, I must rather keep that in private quarters." His gaze flicks to Damien again. His hand lashes out, conjuring a cutting spell. He was pissed off now. He flicked three more before he stops, hunching over to take deep breathes. Blood trickled down his side. "Damien Thorne." The man barks, voice booming despite the pain. He had to believe he could live. He's done it before. "Let us end this!" ||
|| A simple shield kept him safe from the relashio that threatened to loosen his grip. Shields were safe, he could cast them without too much of a problem. "You really are an amateur." he sneered after the man slammed into a wall. "WELL YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!" Chava's voice calmed him down slightly, but not by much. "You may, but his life is /mine/" He flicked his hand, casting a shield charm to stop the cutting charms in their path. Two shield spells. They only took a small toll, so he was still fine, for the most part. His arm lay limply again, but he ignored that fact as he walked towards the man, driving his blade down, aiming for the man's chest. "YOU DON'T GET TO SPEAK TO HER LIKE THAT!" He ripped the blade back, before attempting to drive the blade back again two times. "I agree." he spoke softly with a harsh tone. "Let us end this." With that, he yanked the blade back, before attempting to stab the man's neck.
|| Despite everything, a small smile remained on Chava's face, almost flattered by Damien's anger. Most would run, but to her it was kind of attractive. Her grin widened at the idea of helping, all the more pissed off when the man sent cutting curses after Damien. The second they were casted, Chava growled, and send her own curse flying towards the man, angry enough for the cruciatus curse. After she got her own piece in she allowed Damien his, watching with wide eyes. The man stood absolutely no chance next to Damien, he never did. And she always enjoyed watching Damien torture and kill.
|| To be quite honest, he knew he was going to die. Although he hoped the woman would have been the one to kill him. Not this brute of a man. "Someone will take her." He grumbles, breathing a shaky breath. "Or she will be taken from you." The man shifts his body as Thorne came closer, the blade digging into his right breast. The man grits his teeth before snapping his jaw. He caught sight of the limp arm as he was preyed upon, and now he grips for that arm, wanting to yank it with all his might. Possibly whip it and dislocate it. But as he started to do so, white hot pain encompassed his body and he screamed. It had been years since he had felt the effects of this spell. This Unforgivable. His body spasmed, his hands tightening, whether they were still wrapped around the arm or not, he couldn't tell. "You BITCH!" The man grounds out before his body stops, in shock. The last stab was closer to her heart. Da-THUMP. Pause. Da-THUMP. Although it still felt like a thousand knives were stabbing him repeatedly, the man managed to spit out one more thing. "I'll see you in the Underworld soon, Damien Thorne." And that was all he /could/ say. Because, just then, the dagger pierced through his common carotid artery, cutting off blood flow to the brain. Not only did the man start to gasp for air, not knowing how to tell his body to breathe, he was choking on blood. His hands pulled and clawed. His last action of his last dying breath? His hand flicks and he mutters a quick cutting curse against Damien's arm. The man hoped the proximity would mean he hit true and deep. His icy gaze turns from cold to null, and he stops spasming for air. His hands drop to the ground, and blood dribbles from his mouth, and onto the ground. His last imprint on the earth. ||
|| Though his right arm was yanked, with nothing really happening to it, and he was hit with a cutting curse, he focused on neither of these things. No, he kept stabbing the man over and over again, even when blood pooled out of the man, and it was clear he was dead. He had never once been as pissed as he was now, and didn't expect him to get as pissed ever again. "The only way she'll ever be taken from me, is if she leaves voluntarily!" He stands up from the body, having stabbed the corpse enough times for his liking, he sheathed the blade, before reaching for wand. His next act would certainly make him tired, if not exhausted. He aimed his wand at the corpse before casting two explosion spells in quick succession. He puts his wand away, before walking over to Chava. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulls her closer to him, before planting a kiss on her lips. "You're mine." He says softly.
Chava didn't once stop Damien is his demolition of the man's body, instead admiring his want to see it through to the end. She only stopped staring at the charred remains of the man when he walked over to her. She was only slightly caught off guard for a moment, before slipping her arms around his torso, returning the kiss in confirmation. "Of course," she responds, gripping tighter to him. In one way it might be seen as possessiveness or a sign of affection, but she mainly did it to hold herself up- she was completely worn out from the curse she cast, and felt she might collapse right there; everything hurt. She moves one arm to brush her fingers across his cheek, grimacing. "Nor do I plan on leaving you voluntarily, in case you were wondering." She sighs, leaning her head on him. She was just waiting for him to be upset with her, for him to bring up the fact that she had, in fact, lied earlier about staying in bed and instead went out. She was waiting for him to ask her intentions, and she still didn't plan on telling him. "You're cute when you're possessive," she smirks, in some means to distract him.
| Damien sets his chin on top of her head, before a smirk on his face. He wasn't going to let anyone steal her away. Not some pathetic amateur, not his brother. No one. He frowned slightly at her statement of not leaving him, wanting to press the issue, but deciding that this wasn't the right time. He was exhausted, and she seemed to be the same. Not to mention her wounds from last night must have been hurting like hell. "I'm hardly cute." he says leaning back to look at her, his hand still curled around her. "Terrifying, maybe. Evil, definitely. Crazy... well at times. But cute?" he shook his head slightly, before furrowing his brows again. "Let's get you home. You look like hell." He glanced around the home, craning his neck to see out one the windows as if trying to see where they were. He turned his gaze back towards Chava before joking with a wink, "Your place or mine?"
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