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Tagged!
Even Layton couldn't help raising an eyebrow, gaze flicking to the wizard who had suggested this. The Gamp. He trusted an Unspeakable about as far as he could throw one - but luckily Hyperion was slight enough to be thrown a little farther than average. And his ideas were delicious.
"Tagged makes sense, dunnit?" he remarked, as if tasting the prospect. "Ministry wouldn't have to worry about where to find them if they break out, and Merlin knows that has happened more than it should!"
"A disgrace," the drunken witch shook her head darkly. "Don't see why they ought not spend the night in Azkaban instead."
Layton shrugged - he could go either way on that idea. He liked to hunt. It would be a shame to be unable to find one here on the mainland.
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| 1. | 17th March - And Miles to Go Before I Sleep |
3
Calaveras / Re: [August 2nd] The Pleasure is Mine
February 26, 2022, 12:26:14 PM
"Joseph, Joseph Leslie."
"But you don't go by Joe," Salvador Falcon laughed.
Layton grinned at the restauranteur, pleased to have finally met him after coming to Calaveras as often as he did. It was a convenient place for their group to meet - especially on a full moon. You weren't going to find any of the Ministry werewolf lot hanging about. The colour and splendour made it light-hearted, in a way, and more welcoming to hesitant supporters of ELF.
His persona Joseph Leslie was one of the more moderate voices at this table. Even as he spoke to Salvador, others at the table were already deep in derisive conversation about werewolves - punctuated by exclamations of condescending pity.
Far from stimulating but he did what he had to do, didn't he?
Falcón left after asking if there were more orders - he disappeared, so at ease in his surroundings that he seemed to blend into the general hubbub of the restaurant. Layton wondered, about that wizard.
In spite of the blatant advertisement, there was no talk on the streets of Falcón himself putting down werewolves. It was possible he was simply opportunistic. Incidentally he wasn't the only one.
"Joseph!" cried a witch across the table, already drunk. "Don't just brood, bloody hell, help me out here. Now do you or do you not think it's too d-dangerous-" (she practically squealed that word) "- for children to be around those things? I mean, Merlin's sake, can't they get their own, you know, little schoolroom until we can solve them or whatever?"
"That sounds extreme," he chided softly, gesturing with his glass. "But you know, they might prefer it? I hear they even have their own night clubs. Why not give the kids their own safe space?"
Layton drank. It was a very fine year indeed.
"But you don't go by Joe," Salvador Falcon laughed.
Layton grinned at the restauranteur, pleased to have finally met him after coming to Calaveras as often as he did. It was a convenient place for their group to meet - especially on a full moon. You weren't going to find any of the Ministry werewolf lot hanging about. The colour and splendour made it light-hearted, in a way, and more welcoming to hesitant supporters of ELF.
His persona Joseph Leslie was one of the more moderate voices at this table. Even as he spoke to Salvador, others at the table were already deep in derisive conversation about werewolves - punctuated by exclamations of condescending pity.
Far from stimulating but he did what he had to do, didn't he?
Falcón left after asking if there were more orders - he disappeared, so at ease in his surroundings that he seemed to blend into the general hubbub of the restaurant. Layton wondered, about that wizard.
In spite of the blatant advertisement, there was no talk on the streets of Falcón himself putting down werewolves. It was possible he was simply opportunistic. Incidentally he wasn't the only one.
"Joseph!" cried a witch across the table, already drunk. "Don't just brood, bloody hell, help me out here. Now do you or do you not think it's too d-dangerous-" (she practically squealed that word) "- for children to be around those things? I mean, Merlin's sake, can't they get their own, you know, little schoolroom until we can solve them or whatever?"
"That sounds extreme," he chided softly, gesturing with his glass. "But you know, they might prefer it? I hear they even have their own night clubs. Why not give the kids their own safe space?"
Layton drank. It was a very fine year indeed.
4
The Three Broomsticks / Re: [Feb 15] Play the Bones You Pull
February 13, 2021, 12:39:19 PM
“You should come!”
He was so caught off guard by the direct invitation, his surprise was genuine. "Oh!" Layton heard it in his voice and hated himself for a brief moment. Then he caught his own surprise and tried to feel as lucky as he knew he was. The wizard had been nurturing this friendship, expecting an invitation somewhere further down the line.
On their trip to Callander or even after, give or take intimacies. Yet she was asking now. There were things he didn't yet understand about Camille - this worried him, he hated not being able to parse intentions.
"No no, I'm in Scotland for a while. Two months from now suits just fine," he gestured good humouredly and reached for her hand on the table. "It's very kind of you to invite me."
Layton squeezed her hand warmly before pulling back with a self-deprecating smile. "Been some years since I attended a big wedding, mind you. Might need to practice my dancing."
He picked up his drink, dark eyes smiling at Camille as he sipped. No, he couldn't quite figure her out. What harm could she do, though?
He was so caught off guard by the direct invitation, his surprise was genuine. "Oh!" Layton heard it in his voice and hated himself for a brief moment. Then he caught his own surprise and tried to feel as lucky as he knew he was. The wizard had been nurturing this friendship, expecting an invitation somewhere further down the line.
On their trip to Callander or even after, give or take intimacies. Yet she was asking now. There were things he didn't yet understand about Camille - this worried him, he hated not being able to parse intentions.
"No no, I'm in Scotland for a while. Two months from now suits just fine," he gestured good humouredly and reached for her hand on the table. "It's very kind of you to invite me."
Layton squeezed her hand warmly before pulling back with a self-deprecating smile. "Been some years since I attended a big wedding, mind you. Might need to practice my dancing."
He picked up his drink, dark eyes smiling at Camille as he sipped. No, he couldn't quite figure her out. What harm could she do, though?
5
Muggle Locations / [March 17th] See Me Stopping Here (Snapshot)
February 02, 2021, 03:37:39 PM
Edinburgh
Many miles away from the burning trees[1] in the wood around Hogsmeade, a gangly looking eleven year old boy appeared out of the blue in a bedroom just off the Royal Mile in Scotland's capital. Layton didn't move at first - he remained collapsed on the plush navy carpeting, breathing hard, staring at the blank ceiling.
He sat up, shedding his coat, and looked down the stretch of his legs, at the foot that had gone boneless. It was hard to tell, encased in running shoes, but it didn't look right either. The angle was impossible.
His heart was still racing. He snorted and then laughed, shaking his head. The Polyjuice would be wearing off soon and he wanted to find some skele-gro before that happened. But he kept on laughing, alone in the suite at the top floor of the small hotel. It was relief, yes, and also joy.
How long since he confronted a truly challenging duel? Murdering and skinning the Dunnigan brothers had been difficult but nothing unplanned had occurred - smooth sailing. Today, however, oh today was... something like fun. Layton planned for interference but not necessarily by Storm. Certainly a part of him wished it had been an easier opponent.
The loss of the twine was a sting; neither did he relish giving up the game of his disguise by throwing out the spells he did. It felt necessary at the time. And he couldn't resist. That chaos, she would have loved it.
Would have even loved that he borrowed her son's face. Would, would, would, if she weren't dead.
Layton sighed lightly - the thought was a familiar one - and glanced around the large room. There was a lavish bath tub by the window, and a table of muggle lotion bottles secretly filled with his stock of various potions. The bed, at the other end, looked much more welcoming.
Rest could wait. He began to drag himself over to the tub.
Many miles away from the burning trees[1] in the wood around Hogsmeade, a gangly looking eleven year old boy appeared out of the blue in a bedroom just off the Royal Mile in Scotland's capital. Layton didn't move at first - he remained collapsed on the plush navy carpeting, breathing hard, staring at the blank ceiling.
He sat up, shedding his coat, and looked down the stretch of his legs, at the foot that had gone boneless. It was hard to tell, encased in running shoes, but it didn't look right either. The angle was impossible.
His heart was still racing. He snorted and then laughed, shaking his head. The Polyjuice would be wearing off soon and he wanted to find some skele-gro before that happened. But he kept on laughing, alone in the suite at the top floor of the small hotel. It was relief, yes, and also joy.
How long since he confronted a truly challenging duel? Murdering and skinning the Dunnigan brothers had been difficult but nothing unplanned had occurred - smooth sailing. Today, however, oh today was... something like fun. Layton planned for interference but not necessarily by Storm. Certainly a part of him wished it had been an easier opponent.
The loss of the twine was a sting; neither did he relish giving up the game of his disguise by throwing out the spells he did. It felt necessary at the time. And he couldn't resist. That chaos, she would have loved it.
Would have even loved that he borrowed her son's face. Would, would, would, if she weren't dead.
Layton sighed lightly - the thought was a familiar one - and glanced around the large room. There was a lavish bath tub by the window, and a table of muggle lotion bottles secretly filled with his stock of various potions. The bed, at the other end, looked much more welcoming.
Rest could wait. He began to drag himself over to the tub.
End
| 1. | 17th March - And Miles to Go Before I Sleep |
6
Hogsmeade / Re: [March 17th] And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
January 30, 2021, 05:35:50 AM
Tenacious twine was, lamentably, expensive. He cursed under his breath as the unravelling net was hindered, first by Grant and then more effectively by the defences professor. Layton hesitated, pressed against a tree trunk out of sight. His original twine had been the one gifted to Feliks[1] last October and he was reluctant to abandon this new one.
“Want it back? Show yourself!”
Well that simply wasn't going to happen was it? Forget the twine, best get out of here. Everything was messy enough as it was.
Not without one last shot at that interfering old man, though. Layton made to jump behind another tree, ready to sling a hex, when something hot tightened around his ankle and pulled. He yelled in surprise - knocking his head in the ungraceful fall - but snapped his jaw shut as he was dragged by his feet across the forest floor.
Blood trickled down his pale forehead; he didn't try to grab anything to slow the retrieval by his resolute opponent. If he were actually Feliks, a metamorphmagus, he would thin his foot to slip the red rope.
But he was himself. "Ossio Dispersimus!" Layton gestured at his ensnared foot and flinched as it suddenly went limp. Boneless. He pulled it free with a sickening, burning squelch and immediately raised his wand to the sky.
He was out in the open now and couldn't rely on Storm's mercy for Spectre. The disguised wizard gestured in a circle[2] at the winter-bare tree tops instead. A loud series of cracks! erupted overhead, from as far back as the burning trees to the hiding place from which he'd been grabbed.
He bared his teeth at Ignan Storm - an expression so full of hate and fury that it contorted Feliks' countenance horribly. Gravity, always efficient, worked its own magic as branches fell heavily from above, concentrated particularly on Layton. As if to bury him.
“Want it back? Show yourself!”
Well that simply wasn't going to happen was it? Forget the twine, best get out of here. Everything was messy enough as it was.
Not without one last shot at that interfering old man, though. Layton made to jump behind another tree, ready to sling a hex, when something hot tightened around his ankle and pulled. He yelled in surprise - knocking his head in the ungraceful fall - but snapped his jaw shut as he was dragged by his feet across the forest floor.
Blood trickled down his pale forehead; he didn't try to grab anything to slow the retrieval by his resolute opponent. If he were actually Feliks, a metamorphmagus, he would thin his foot to slip the red rope.
But he was himself. "Ossio Dispersimus!" Layton gestured at his ensnared foot and flinched as it suddenly went limp. Boneless. He pulled it free with a sickening, burning squelch and immediately raised his wand to the sky.
He was out in the open now and couldn't rely on Storm's mercy for Spectre. The disguised wizard gestured in a circle[2] at the winter-bare tree tops instead. A loud series of cracks! erupted overhead, from as far back as the burning trees to the hiding place from which he'd been grabbed.
He bared his teeth at Ignan Storm - an expression so full of hate and fury that it contorted Feliks' countenance horribly. Gravity, always efficient, worked its own magic as branches fell heavily from above, concentrated particularly on Layton. As if to bury him.
| 1. | 15th Oct 2011 - Spill This Blood for You |
| 2. | Branch Clearing charm |
7
Hogsmeade / Re: [March 17th] And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
January 25, 2021, 02:13:21 AM
People would be drawn to the fire and smoke soon. He would be long gone by then, if he could just--
“There’s nowhere to run to Spectre... I will take your surrender!”
Layton grinned to himself, pleased that they still believed this facade. He wasn't the kind of man who grinned; it was this body, he knew, which was quick and expressive and demanded use. It was made to move. An odd thrill ran through him, to think the boy's frame was a part of Ira still alive. Is this how she felt when she sparred? Like living between moments of almost-death?
Storm wasn't letting up. Layton ducked the first of the hexes as he rolled over to the next tree, a large elm that made for good cover. He deflected the body curse, barely, breathless, just as the older wizard cried out Temple's name.
The stupid girl was charging him unarmed. Layton barked a laugh, countenance twisting into something foreign to Feliks' actual face.
He slung a flash of light, Retrorgenus, at Lucinda and then made an odd gesture with his wand - turning it upside down and dragging towards himself.
"Fossura Pala!" Layton exclaimed.
The frosted ground in front of Lucinda crackled and suddenly collapsed, as if a large claw had dug into it. Soil shoved out in one go, leaving a five ffoot by five foot gash in the forest floor. It was an unusual spell. A spell for desperate men who have had to dig many graves in a short time.
Although convinced Temple would be Storm's priority, he didn't want to take chances. Layton dove back behind the tree. "Accio twine," he muttered. Back in the clearing, the net of Tenacious Twine rose loosely into the air, unravelling.
It was time to make an exit.
“There’s nowhere to run to Spectre... I will take your surrender!”
Layton grinned to himself, pleased that they still believed this facade. He wasn't the kind of man who grinned; it was this body, he knew, which was quick and expressive and demanded use. It was made to move. An odd thrill ran through him, to think the boy's frame was a part of Ira still alive. Is this how she felt when she sparred? Like living between moments of almost-death?
Storm wasn't letting up. Layton ducked the first of the hexes as he rolled over to the next tree, a large elm that made for good cover. He deflected the body curse, barely, breathless, just as the older wizard cried out Temple's name.
The stupid girl was charging him unarmed. Layton barked a laugh, countenance twisting into something foreign to Feliks' actual face.
He slung a flash of light, Retrorgenus, at Lucinda and then made an odd gesture with his wand - turning it upside down and dragging towards himself.
"Fossura Pala!" Layton exclaimed.
The frosted ground in front of Lucinda crackled and suddenly collapsed, as if a large claw had dug into it. Soil shoved out in one go, leaving a five ffoot by five foot gash in the forest floor. It was an unusual spell. A spell for desperate men who have had to dig many graves in a short time.
Although convinced Temple would be Storm's priority, he didn't want to take chances. Layton dove back behind the tree. "Accio twine," he muttered. Back in the clearing, the net of Tenacious Twine rose loosely into the air, unravelling.
It was time to make an exit.
8
Hogsmeade / Re: [March 17th] And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
January 23, 2021, 05:59:50 AM
This was how the man treated first years? Layton flattened himself against a tree trunk as the earth turned against itself, kingdom come in their own little corner of the wood surrounding Hogsmeade.
He gripped his wand and dropped into a crouch, one hand on the ground and mind racing. Storm was speaking - what did he mean he wasn't alone? Layton's eyes raised to scan the trees around him as he contemplated apparating out of here. The idea of running scared from the professor and those helpless little cubs was an intolerable one.
If Storm wasn't alone, fine. People were coming anyway. They will have noticed the commotion. And he could be lying; that would be the kind of thing that might spook an eleven year old. Layton made a decision. Two decisions.
He breathed in, picturing the scene behind him: Storm, standing tall and attentive, the twine dome behind him to his right... no, his left, probably, if he had to guess positioning. Layton turned around and peered out, with one spell ready to leap. The dome was to Storm's left.
With less than a flick of his wand, the dome collapsed on the two girls, a limp tangle of unbreakable twine.
"Incendio!" he hissed, sending a jet of flame towards the trees around the clearing - they caught on fire quickly, the dry and smoky crackling of damp winter wood. Layton rolled to the next tree and laid flat against it, angling his head to the side. "You shouldn't have meddled, old man!" he called out angrily.
The lithe wizard remained crouching, breathing hard, glancing over his shoulder for the possibility of Storm's companion making an appearance.
He gripped his wand and dropped into a crouch, one hand on the ground and mind racing. Storm was speaking - what did he mean he wasn't alone? Layton's eyes raised to scan the trees around him as he contemplated apparating out of here. The idea of running scared from the professor and those helpless little cubs was an intolerable one.
If Storm wasn't alone, fine. People were coming anyway. They will have noticed the commotion. And he could be lying; that would be the kind of thing that might spook an eleven year old. Layton made a decision. Two decisions.
He breathed in, picturing the scene behind him: Storm, standing tall and attentive, the twine dome behind him to his right... no, his left, probably, if he had to guess positioning. Layton turned around and peered out, with one spell ready to leap. The dome was to Storm's left.
With less than a flick of his wand, the dome collapsed on the two girls, a limp tangle of unbreakable twine.
"Incendio!" he hissed, sending a jet of flame towards the trees around the clearing - they caught on fire quickly, the dry and smoky crackling of damp winter wood. Layton rolled to the next tree and laid flat against it, angling his head to the side. "You shouldn't have meddled, old man!" he called out angrily.
The lithe wizard remained crouching, breathing hard, glancing over his shoulder for the possibility of Storm's companion making an appearance.
9
Hogsmeade / Re: [March 17th] And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
January 21, 2021, 09:50:22 AM
He didn't move to pick up the medallion, staring straight ahead at Greer Grant instead. The little cub was angry. So, for that matter, was the other one. Layton smirked at her rude gestures as he stepped closer with wand raised - the coffin would have to be transfigured larger if this touching scene of self-sacrifice was going to take place.
"You almost make me feel sorry for y--" Layton cut off with a strangled cry, stumbling forward.
Never one to let go of his wand, he gripped the twine net with his other hand and quickly stepped back out of either girl's reach before twisting around. Where had that come from? The forest and lanes around them held no answer.
His stance had quickly shifted from Feliks' relaxed one to a duelling position so comfortable it held him like a glove. Layton didn't need much to duel. He didn't even need a clear or predictable threat.
A sliver of Ignan Storm interrupted the view of barren trees. This had quickly become an escape job. With a bold flick, Layton deflected the next hex - and then he broke into a run, dashing for cover behind a tree trunk. He briefly weighed the pretence of being Feliks against eluding capture by Storm.
"Ossa ruptor!" the disguised wizard slung the hex and jumped for cover behind the next tree, trying to put distance between himself and the werewolves.
Layton was counting on the professor's reluctance to be led away from the victimised students.
"You almost make me feel sorry for y--" Layton cut off with a strangled cry, stumbling forward.
Never one to let go of his wand, he gripped the twine net with his other hand and quickly stepped back out of either girl's reach before twisting around. Where had that come from? The forest and lanes around them held no answer.
His stance had quickly shifted from Feliks' relaxed one to a duelling position so comfortable it held him like a glove. Layton didn't need much to duel. He didn't even need a clear or predictable threat.
A sliver of Ignan Storm interrupted the view of barren trees. This had quickly become an escape job. With a bold flick, Layton deflected the next hex - and then he broke into a run, dashing for cover behind a tree trunk. He briefly weighed the pretence of being Feliks against eluding capture by Storm.
"Ossa ruptor!" the disguised wizard slung the hex and jumped for cover behind the next tree, trying to put distance between himself and the werewolves.
Layton was counting on the professor's reluctance to be led away from the victimised students.
10
Hogsmeade / Re: [March 17th] And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
January 19, 2021, 03:31:11 AM
He had to wait.
You needed to, with children. Adults acted right away - a skilled auror would have accepted the handicap of a sealed mouth and either resolved it or wasted no time in adjusting. Children panicked, he thought, watching Temple kick at the coffin. The lid flipped open. He took a step closer and twirled his wand again.
It was empty, save for a silver medallion identical to the one[1] received by the real Feliks Spectre.
"One of you is going into the ground." Layton said, matter-of-fact. "Pick up that medallion and flip it. Heads is you, Lucinda, tails is Greer."
The medallion was blank, save for Ira Almasy's name engraved in Cyrillic, but the girls didn't need to know which side was head or tails. That was his call to make. He had planned on capturing only one witch, planned to make her wear the medallion while he buried her alive. But now one werewolf would have to bury the other, and that was a pleasing turn of events for him.
Layton paced around the dome again; a little too pleased with himself, forgetting how close they were to the lane around Hogsmeade. "Funny, isn't it? Just you two alone. Figures your friends would forget you..." he remarked lightly. "They don't actually care about werewolves."
You needed to, with children. Adults acted right away - a skilled auror would have accepted the handicap of a sealed mouth and either resolved it or wasted no time in adjusting. Children panicked, he thought, watching Temple kick at the coffin. The lid flipped open. He took a step closer and twirled his wand again.
It was empty, save for a silver medallion identical to the one[1] received by the real Feliks Spectre.
"One of you is going into the ground." Layton said, matter-of-fact. "Pick up that medallion and flip it. Heads is you, Lucinda, tails is Greer."
The medallion was blank, save for Ira Almasy's name engraved in Cyrillic, but the girls didn't need to know which side was head or tails. That was his call to make. He had planned on capturing only one witch, planned to make her wear the medallion while he buried her alive. But now one werewolf would have to bury the other, and that was a pleasing turn of events for him.
Layton paced around the dome again; a little too pleased with himself, forgetting how close they were to the lane around Hogsmeade. "Funny, isn't it? Just you two alone. Figures your friends would forget you..." he remarked lightly. "They don't actually care about werewolves."
| 1. | 19th Feb - O Mother Tell Your Children |
11
Hogsmeade / Re: [March 17th] And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
January 13, 2021, 10:13:09 AM
The mouths on these children!
Layton became very still as they launched into threats. He had stepped back when he trapped them in the net and just now he took another step back, entirely out of their enraged grasps. His posture relaxed, growing calmer and more controlled than the easygoing grace of the real Feliks Spectre. The self-satisfied smile drew itself in to something more thoughtful.
"You'll be the only contents once...head into the atmosphere."
Temple was speaking while the other girl examined her hands, patently affected by silver in the twine. He met Greer's gaze with a hint of maliciousness but his words were directed at Lucinda. "The twine won't break, you stupid girl. It's rather brave of you to suppose you'll live to punt anything, much less my head."
These were Layton's words and cadence. He began to saunter around the dome in careful, measured steps, putting the trapped witches between himself and the Hogsmeade lane on the off-chance they were spotted. The icy ground crackled.
"Do you know what Almasys do to misbehaving little girls?" Layton pretended to examine his wand, gaze flicking towards them every now and again. "I could make you guess but that's a dull game," he gave the wand a flick. "Oscausi!"
Greer and Lucinda's mouths snapped close, skin sealing over the lips as if they'd been born without. Layton sighed, pleased. He enjoyed threats and declarations from the likes of Hannah Bombay[1] but not from mere kids. "Much better," he remarked before nodding at the closed coffin behind them.
"Open it," the wizard crossed his arms, tilting his chin lower. "I know much nastier spells, if you can't be bothered."
Layton became very still as they launched into threats. He had stepped back when he trapped them in the net and just now he took another step back, entirely out of their enraged grasps. His posture relaxed, growing calmer and more controlled than the easygoing grace of the real Feliks Spectre. The self-satisfied smile drew itself in to something more thoughtful.
"You'll be the only contents once...head into the atmosphere."
Temple was speaking while the other girl examined her hands, patently affected by silver in the twine. He met Greer's gaze with a hint of maliciousness but his words were directed at Lucinda. "The twine won't break, you stupid girl. It's rather brave of you to suppose you'll live to punt anything, much less my head."
These were Layton's words and cadence. He began to saunter around the dome in careful, measured steps, putting the trapped witches between himself and the Hogsmeade lane on the off-chance they were spotted. The icy ground crackled.
"Do you know what Almasys do to misbehaving little girls?" Layton pretended to examine his wand, gaze flicking towards them every now and again. "I could make you guess but that's a dull game," he gave the wand a flick. "Oscausi!"
Greer and Lucinda's mouths snapped close, skin sealing over the lips as if they'd been born without. Layton sighed, pleased. He enjoyed threats and declarations from the likes of Hannah Bombay[1] but not from mere kids. "Much better," he remarked before nodding at the closed coffin behind them.
"Open it," the wizard crossed his arms, tilting his chin lower. "I know much nastier spells, if you can't be bothered."
| 1. | 18th Feb 2011 - Makes Animals of us All |
12
Hogsmeade / Re: [March 17th] And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
January 12, 2021, 02:37:48 PM
He couldn't help feeling smug, having lured the pair here without resorting to either Legilimency or the Imperius curse. Unforgiveables were especially odious and uncreative to him. To Ira. Layton drew his wand - it was the biggest giveaway of false identity, probably. However, by now he realised these witches didn't know Feliks well enough to clock the difference.
"You're so impatient," he muttered at Greer as he approached the thorny, leafless bush. "Is that a werewolf thing? Tempers? It is, at least in my experience."
The wizard tapped the the bush with his wand. And then, abruptly, it was no longer a bush but a large tangle of Tenacious Twine draped over an oddly shaped pinewood box on the ground. A coffin. A child-sized coffin.
He didn't want to give them time to bolt. "Expelliarmus!" Layton exclaimed, gesturing quick as a cat first at Lucinda, then Greer. Their wands shot away and landed on the frosty earth, out of reach. "Necto Nassa Convexum!"
The web of twine suddenly lifted into the air over the girls, dropping down into a rigid dome-like structure over them. It was a much more complex version of the spell he offered Feliks Spectre[1] in The Lycan. Layton designed it especially for this purpose, a play on how he captured the Dunnigan[2] brothers.
"Sorry," he grinned, still keeping up his pretence. It did not ring as true as before. "I only made the one -" meaning the coffin, "- I didn't think both of you were stupid enough to come."
It had been built to fit Greer but Lucinda might be able to squeeze in instead. He glanced over his shoulder briefly: they were visible from the lane, but the nature of what was happening wasn't immediately obvious. Anyway, nobody was watching.
Layton twirled his wand once, tilting his head to the side. His eyes glittered dangerously in Feliks' face. "We should play a game."
"You're so impatient," he muttered at Greer as he approached the thorny, leafless bush. "Is that a werewolf thing? Tempers? It is, at least in my experience."
The wizard tapped the the bush with his wand. And then, abruptly, it was no longer a bush but a large tangle of Tenacious Twine draped over an oddly shaped pinewood box on the ground. A coffin. A child-sized coffin.
He didn't want to give them time to bolt. "Expelliarmus!" Layton exclaimed, gesturing quick as a cat first at Lucinda, then Greer. Their wands shot away and landed on the frosty earth, out of reach. "Necto Nassa Convexum!"
The web of twine suddenly lifted into the air over the girls, dropping down into a rigid dome-like structure over them. It was a much more complex version of the spell he offered Feliks Spectre[1] in The Lycan. Layton designed it especially for this purpose, a play on how he captured the Dunnigan[2] brothers.
"Sorry," he grinned, still keeping up his pretence. It did not ring as true as before. "I only made the one -" meaning the coffin, "- I didn't think both of you were stupid enough to come."
It had been built to fit Greer but Lucinda might be able to squeeze in instead. He glanced over his shoulder briefly: they were visible from the lane, but the nature of what was happening wasn't immediately obvious. Anyway, nobody was watching.
Layton twirled his wand once, tilting his head to the side. His eyes glittered dangerously in Feliks' face. "We should play a game."
| 1. | 15th Oct 2011 - Spill This Blood for You |
| 2. | 9th Jan - House of the Rising Moon |
13
Hogsmeade / Re: [March 17th] And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
January 12, 2021, 12:14:04 PM
For a second, he thought that Greer was going to ditch them - she was watching some other students down the street. Lucinda's camaraderie seemed to resolve things, though. Dog did, often, travel in packs. Lucky him.
"Come on then," he started down the lane, where the lady with the rancid potion had long retreated indoors. "It won't take long, I have to be back soon anyway."
Layton led them towards the outer lanes of Hogsmeade, which bordered the woods, chatting as they walked. He affected a careless, unperturbed manner. Feliks' body was gangly but his unfamiliarity with long limbs simply conveyed the usual awkwardness of boys who grew too fast.
"It's in the dungeons, comes out in an old kitchen the elves don't use anymore" he explained as he glanced at the girls, who were only a step or so behind. "And OBVIOUSLY I came with someone but I'm not squealing on them. They're at Honeydukes."
The wizard didn't bother justifying why he was out here. Since when did eleven year olds bother? When you were a kid you did things because you weren't allowed to, and then you got bored.
As they emerged on to a very quiet lane by the wood, he didn't slow down but cut across straight towards a slight slope leading into the woods. Many dirt paths led away from the lane - it was clearly a frequented area for leisurely strolls, in better weather. "There!" he stopped to point at a clearing that could be easily spotted from the lane.
There were barren bushes in the centre, surrounded by the tall and naked winter trees. It looked like the thorny bushes might be obscuring something. Layton didn't enter the woods just yet.
"It's a trap door but there's a secret password and a secret knock," he looked at the werewolf witches skeptically. "The knock is complicated. Are you sure you can remember if I show you?"
"Come on then," he started down the lane, where the lady with the rancid potion had long retreated indoors. "It won't take long, I have to be back soon anyway."
Layton led them towards the outer lanes of Hogsmeade, which bordered the woods, chatting as they walked. He affected a careless, unperturbed manner. Feliks' body was gangly but his unfamiliarity with long limbs simply conveyed the usual awkwardness of boys who grew too fast.
"It's in the dungeons, comes out in an old kitchen the elves don't use anymore" he explained as he glanced at the girls, who were only a step or so behind. "And OBVIOUSLY I came with someone but I'm not squealing on them. They're at Honeydukes."
The wizard didn't bother justifying why he was out here. Since when did eleven year olds bother? When you were a kid you did things because you weren't allowed to, and then you got bored.
As they emerged on to a very quiet lane by the wood, he didn't slow down but cut across straight towards a slight slope leading into the woods. Many dirt paths led away from the lane - it was clearly a frequented area for leisurely strolls, in better weather. "There!" he stopped to point at a clearing that could be easily spotted from the lane.
There were barren bushes in the centre, surrounded by the tall and naked winter trees. It looked like the thorny bushes might be obscuring something. Layton didn't enter the woods just yet.
"It's a trap door but there's a secret password and a secret knock," he looked at the werewolf witches skeptically. "The knock is complicated. Are you sure you can remember if I show you?"
14
Hogsmeade / Re: [March 17th] And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
January 11, 2021, 03:51:18 PM
He sensed a kind of scrappiness in Grant, though instinct told him that she was more bark than bite. Layton had learned to trust his instincts - it was why he was more concerned about Greer getting away than the other one. Temple was frank, brash. The turns in her mood would not be subtle. The younger witch, however, was a creature of nuance. If her mood turned he might not be able to see it coming, even with Leglimency.
Pity, considering all that nuance gets thrown out of the window every full moon.
"Add on five sickles."
The wizard laughed. It was a condescending laugh but in Felik's frame, it came across as incredulous. Layton crossed his arms, tucking his hands in under his coat as he looked at Lucinda with a thinking face.
"Fine," he said, as if the choice had been unclear. "Three sickles now and two sickles later, so I know you won't squeal until I'm back in the castle proper. Yes?"
If the girls knew Feliks well enough, they might have detected the way his words tilted in a more English direction than that of the foreign first year. Layton tried to stick to simpler sentences even as they were pulled away by nostalgia. The easy, casual cadence with which he spoke when he'd been a good Hufflepuff soldier.
"And you can't tell anyone else, alright? Unless you absolutely have to." he added, putting on a serious face. "Promise." Layton took out a few sickles from his pocket and held them out in the palm of his hand.
It was such a skinny and pale hand. Ira's arms were like this; long and slender, and sinewy beneath the flesh.
Pity, considering all that nuance gets thrown out of the window every full moon.
"Add on five sickles."
The wizard laughed. It was a condescending laugh but in Felik's frame, it came across as incredulous. Layton crossed his arms, tucking his hands in under his coat as he looked at Lucinda with a thinking face.
"Fine," he said, as if the choice had been unclear. "Three sickles now and two sickles later, so I know you won't squeal until I'm back in the castle proper. Yes?"
If the girls knew Feliks well enough, they might have detected the way his words tilted in a more English direction than that of the foreign first year. Layton tried to stick to simpler sentences even as they were pulled away by nostalgia. The easy, casual cadence with which he spoke when he'd been a good Hufflepuff soldier.
"And you can't tell anyone else, alright? Unless you absolutely have to." he added, putting on a serious face. "Promise." Layton took out a few sickles from his pocket and held them out in the palm of his hand.
It was such a skinny and pale hand. Ira's arms were like this; long and slender, and sinewy beneath the flesh.
15
Hogsmeade / Re: [March 17th] And Miles to Go Before I Sleep
January 10, 2021, 04:42:33 PM
Were these the bumbling pups who shared the same hallowed halls as Ira Almasy's son? Layton sneered at the older girl without meaning to, unimpressed by her convoluted insults. He shoved back his hood, looking from one werewolf to the next. Calm.
"I'm only here to look around," he shrugged, trying to maintain the same earnest and oblivious manner he'd encountered in that bookshop over Christmas. "And nobody let me out. Obviously."
Layton had learned another thing from his encounter. He learned that Feliks was the kind of kid who simply volunteered information, in the chatty way of children. Certainly he'd been more than happy to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger that day. It was bold in a child but it served a good purpose now.
"I found a way out of the castle." Layton gestured carelessly over his shoulder, down the lane he had come from and the woods beyond. "So I can leave anytime I want. Are you going to tell on me?" he narrowed his eyes at Greer Grant.
Then he pulled a face, as if though coming a sudden decision. "If you don't, I'll show you both the way I got out."
"I'm only here to look around," he shrugged, trying to maintain the same earnest and oblivious manner he'd encountered in that bookshop over Christmas. "And nobody let me out. Obviously."
Layton had learned another thing from his encounter. He learned that Feliks was the kind of kid who simply volunteered information, in the chatty way of children. Certainly he'd been more than happy to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger that day. It was bold in a child but it served a good purpose now.
"I found a way out of the castle." Layton gestured carelessly over his shoulder, down the lane he had come from and the woods beyond. "So I can leave anytime I want. Are you going to tell on me?" he narrowed his eyes at Greer Grant.
Then he pulled a face, as if though coming a sudden decision. "If you don't, I'll show you both the way I got out."