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Post by balthazar on Feb 22, 2012 15:48:15 GMT -5
It was cold, of that there could be no doubt. The icy wind swirled through the streets, chasing the edges of the robes most wizards wore to protect themselves, penetrating even the most lovingly-knitted scarves before retreating, only to come back again a few minutes later. Many of the students would enjoy this weather, their laughter mixing together with the sharp weather to create an almost cheery, Christmasy effect, even though the holiday itself had passed months ago.
For Balthazar, however, the weather was nothing but a hindrance, and he could hear Lucifer's laugh in his mind as his cousin chastised him for being out on such a day. What Lucifer didn't understand was that he needed to be out here, not on some delusional attempt to enjoy the weather - Merlin forbid he ever become stupid enough to do that - but on business that just couldn't wait.
His footsteps muffled by the noises of the crowd, Balthazar pulled the black scarf he wore tighter around his neck, raven-like eyes scanning the crowd before he merged into it, blending in with the rest of the dark cloaks and coats. His own had been a gift from Lucifer, a flattering style that Balthazar couldn't have cared less for, though he would admit that it performed its task of keeping him warm quite admirably, and it was better than a cloak in that it wasn't constantly getting blown about, taking him with it.
Scowling, Balthazar pushed his way out of the crowd, surfacing next to a shop that sold books, already enjoying his freedom from the others.
His life had been nothing short of hectic lately, with the Unbreakable Vow, Headmaster Snape being a prick (and no, Balthazar wasn't being hypocritical at all, thanks), having to watch Helen Jones, as well as keep up with his own work and the... well, the things he had to take care of, as a legal adult in the wizarding world. Not to mention the new dilemma that the surprisingly perceptive Lorcan d'Eath, of all people, now presented to him.
"Evans."
Balthazar spun around, one hand curling around the spine of the book he had been carrying around with him as another hand curled around the top of his arm, pulling him into the space between the two shops.
"There are other ways to get my attention," Balthazar snapped at them, raising his chin. The man who had grabbed him laughed, but it was a cruel sound, one that made him repress a shiver.
"Where's the money, Evans?"
"I'd imagine you'd have spent it all by now," he replied primly, black eyes raking over them with haughty disapproval. "As you did the other payments."
He was prepared for the spell that sliced open his cheek, though it still hurt more than he would have liked, and when he tried to raise his hand to catch the blood that was quickly dripping down his face it was quickly snatched and pressed painfully against the stone walls.
"I'll try this again," the man across from him said darkly, and Balthazar was aware of the other two that flanked him. "Where is the money?"
"I don't have it," Balthazar snapped. "I haven't had the time!"
"Well that's just too bad then, huh? Your poor mother - what would she say if she saw you in this position?"
"I imagine she would curse you back to the hovel in which you crawled from," came the chilly response. "Certainly she wouldn't want you hassling her only son for it."
"Then she should have thought of that before borrowing the money from us, eh?" the man said smugly, and Balthazar's lip curled at the smell of firewhiskey that clung to his breath.
"I don't have it," he repeated simply, and promptly found a hand at his neck, his head cracking against the back of the wall and he let out a pained yelp before he could stop himself, his book falling to the slushy floor of the alleyway as he raised both suddenly free hands to claw at the hands around his throat.
"Then we'll just have to rough you up a little and take what we can find."
His thoughts swam and echoed within his throbbing head, and he could do nothing but stifle screams of pain as a gash opened against his shoulder, slicing through the clothing he wore and ending just before his hip.
"Not too loud, boys." The man's voice was distant, but Balthazar could hear the boredom in it. "And please, for Merlin's sake, don't kill him."
Balthazar barely had the time to hiss out, "Expecto patronum!" before his world faded to black.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 22, 2012 21:08:29 GMT -5
Seff sighed as he poured some water from the tap into a kettle. It'd been nothing short of a horrible day, being too busy at weird times and unruly customers that were had to handle on his own. Grace had just gotten back from London, and he'd given her the day off.
She'll be working all of next week, he thought irritably to himself, before shaking off the accusation. It wasn't her fault; he had chosen to take today on his own. He grimaced, setting the kettle down on the stove.
He huffed out a sigh and sprawled across the counter to watch. Loosely crossing his arms and leaning them on the surface, he set his chin down over his sleeves and watched his face in the reflection of the kettle. His green eyes stared back at him, crotchety and bored. Subconsciously he made a face at his reflection, something only a child would do, and grinned when it was contorted in the smooth, bent surface.
The water was just starting to bubble when he heard something thrown against the wall out back. His amused expression immediately went sour, and with obvious annoyance he shut off the burner and made his way to the back of his flat.
Grabbing his coat and his want--just in case--he slipped open the door and stepped out.
Three men were huddled around another, lying on the ground with his blood already snaking through the spaces between the cobblestone. Seff felt his blood begin to boil and his lip twitch in a snarl.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he shouted to them, earning their stares and attention.
He took their shock of being discovered to his advantage, and assessed them all in his head. They weren't complicated, nothing more than your average thugs. The leader of the group--a large, burly man--murmured something to his companions, and they started to walk towards him. Seff felt a grin begin to pass his face. Confidence was always fun.
"I wouldn't come any closer," he growled, an untold threat lingering coldly in his words.
The large man grinned. "You're outnumbered," he pointed out.
Seff looked around in faux fascination. "Oh my, it would seem that I am. I didn't notice that before, thank you ever so much for telling me! Not that it's much of a problem for me." His sneer took over his face once more, and he saw one of the grunts bristle and take a step forward. Seff rolled his eyes. "Don't take that so literally, I wasn't talking to you. Unless you're so brainless you can't function as an individual and instead operate as an extension of him." Seff gestured to the leader with an indignant shrug. "Though I wouldn't doubt that."
That got him, and with a cry the man leapt at Seff.
Without missing a beat, Seff brought up his wand. "Stupefy."
The man fell, his expression blank and his body still. He wasn't dead, but he was out for the count.
Seff grinned at them, baring his teeth in a wild sneer. "Any more takers?"
Of course he expected them both to come at him at once. That much was obvious. He ducked a swing from the leader, driving his own fist into the gut of the other man. He got in close as the first swung again, using his momentum against himself to hit him square in the sternum. As he fell Seff turned around, kicking the other in the chest to keep him down.
He turned to face the leader, choking for breath on the ground, and pouted. "I told you three against one was unfair," he said, his bottom lip out and making his words sound almost sympathetic. He laughed, grinning again, and left them there on the ground.
Running to the man on the ground, he felt to make sure he was still alive before hoisting him up by the arms. "Let's get you inside," he murmured to him, dragging him back gently across the stone to reach the flat. The three baddies had already fled.
Seff cursed under his breath as he worked to open the door, a chilling breeze making it's way through the alley to bite at his face. When he finally got the door open he brought the man over to the couch, frowning at the ugly gash across the man's side.
Luckily for him he'd been through enough first-aid and basic medical courses (none of them licensed; but did it really matter?) to know how to patch someone up. He brought out his medical tape and sterilizing pads, first working on the cut on the man's cheek.
"Oh shut up," he grumbled, his words distorted from the scissors in his mouth, when the man hissed in a breath as he cleaned the wound. After placing a very pretty, very pink bandaid over the cut, he set to work on the laceration running down the man's side.
It was long, but not deep, and it didn't require much attention. Seff growled to himself when he noticed blood smearing across the pillow the man's head was set upon. He grabbed a wet washcloth, wiping the blood from his hair and muttering something about how he was going to have an awful headache when he woke up.
When he was done he sat on the couch opposite and picked up his harp, watching him intently as he waited for him to wake.
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Post by balthazar on Feb 25, 2012 15:18:39 GMT -5
The odd thing, Balthazar thought numbly, was waking up to warmth. His own apartments were always so cold, the chill unrivalled, seeping into his very bones and certainly past the thin clothing he wore. Sometimes the ink in his inkpots would freeze, and he would be forced to put aside his work with a huff of irritation and indignation, as it needed to know just how much it had inconvenienced him.
So waking up to such a feeling was alien to say the least. Not since his days with his mother in the mansion had he experienced it.
Of course, it also tipped him off to the fact that no, he was not in his apartment, so where the Hell was he, and why was he not dead?
The "why was he not dead" part was kind of important.
Black eyes opening, Balthazar groaned lightly, cursing those men with every aspect of his being, his hands flying instantly to the wand he had shoved back into the case on his wrist, relieved that it was still there and not being pawned off somewhere, as he had initially expected it would be.
Of course, his attention was soon drawn to the man with a harp, and he felt the surprise and the suspicion appear in sync on his face. It might give the wrong impression, but men of his family were generally untrusting people, Balthazar even moreso than his cousin Lucifer, though last he had experienced Raphael was keen to shutting himself as far away from them as possible.
He would start with the basics.
"Where on Earth am I?"
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Post by Deleted on Feb 26, 2012 3:42:21 GMT -5
Seff grinned, temporarily taking his hands off the strings as he turned his attention in the general direction the words came from. Which happened to be from his new visitor. He would have been offended by the look on his face, but for the love of Merlin, the man had just been beaten unconscious. Not much else could have been expected of him.
"Still alive, I see," Seff said, eyeing him carefully. "You're in Hogsmeade. In Tomes and Scrolls...well, in the same general building as it, at least."
He grimaced, jerking his head towards where the door was. "Not the brightest bunch that was sent after you. Horribly predictable, and very, very stupid. Seriously, did they not expect someone to come help? At all?" Shaking his head, Seff leaned forward and pushed himself up.
Standing to grab his kettle, he began filling it with water. "I wouldn't try to move yet if I were you, you took an awful thrashing out there. It's been at least half an hour since I brought you in here." He set it on the stove, lighting it. "How are you feeling?"
Finishing his task for now, he leaned against the counter, giving the man his full attention.
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Post by balthazar on Mar 24, 2012 22:15:20 GMT -5
"They wouldn't have expected anyone to intervene," Balthazar said in a voice laced with both anger and pain, even as he let out a small groan and leaned his head back, eyes fluttering shut as he let his breathing even out for a few seconds.
He could hear the sounds of the strange man moving around, his actions mundane and domestic, and he knew that if Lucifer were here his cousin would have made a remark by that point. Luckily, he wasn't, and Balthazar's muddled mind was left to stew in relative peace (and pain).
"I feel awful," he said bluntly.
ooc;; sorrysorrysorry
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2012 11:47:57 GMT -5
With a noise of agreement, Seff curled his lip as he thought of the men. Their sheer stupidity was boring to him. "Obviously," he scoffed, looking back to check the water. Though he could easily have it boiled and ready with a simple spell, he preferred going through the Muggle process--what he had grown up with, despite having half wizard blood. It was relaxing, and gave him something to do.
He gave the man a quick glance, making sure he wasn't in any serious danger, and once he was sure he wasn't Seff took to examining him instead. In his current state he couldn't tell much, but he didn't like not knowing what exactly he was dealing with, should the man turn out to be a threat.
Something told him he wasn't, however, despite his sharp tone. He'd just had his ass handed to him in a fight against three men; who wouldn't be at least a little bit pissed off?
"I'd be worried if you didn't," Seff remarked, giving up with his plight for now and turning to grab the water from the stove. Quiet life as good for him after the rough beginning he'd had. "Not that I don't enjoy your company, but is there anyone you could contact to come get you? You're welcome to stay the night if needed, but I just thought that someone might be worried as to where you are." Another critical glance, since the man had his eyes closed and wouldn't be able to see him anyways. "And no offense, but you don't quite seem fit to go anywhere in the near future anyways."
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