With guns blazing - Printable Version
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With guns blazing - Ida Chang - July 13, 2022
July 12th, 1892 - At the edge of Hawthorne Hallow & the Chang family's grounds
Ida went outside at exactly 10 minutes past 7, clutching her capelet to her chin in one hand and her father's hunting rifle in the other.
Weekdays were usually a frenzy of activity around the Chang grounds this hour. But turns out, it really puts a damper on one's import business when no one is allowed in or out of town. Standing now in the slight chill of a foggy summer morning, the silence felt extra eerie.
Her father and brother departed for Salem Square just a few minutes ago. By the sound of it, the town's men of commerce were having urgent meetings to insist on exclusions from the lockdown. Doubtful, but the Changs were nothing if not persevering.
The family had an unusual setup: an expansive parcel of land compared to most in Irvingly, a benefit of being among the first wizarding families to settle the area. At the outskirts of Swallowbury, less than a mile from Hawthorne Hollow, their home presented itself more as a farm than an estate. For one, there wasn't a manicured garden in sight. Instead, a narrow dirt road from the main street wound around several ancient oak trees, all the way up to a short row of utilitarian storehouses. Nearby horse stables and loading carriages were used to bring inventory to the train. A sad-looking vegetable garden had a few chickens loitering aimlessly in it. Their home overlooked it all. Beyond these structures, her father's lost ambition left about two acres of wildly overgrown space. It was hard to distinguish the forest from the trees over there, quite literally.
With the Governess and baby brother still asleep, her brother's two Xiasi hounds kept the witch company as she walked over to her horse's stable. Ida heard what happened, local rumors moved faster than any Daily Prophet. But surely there was nothing to worry about in the daytime? Besides, wouldn't it be better to check in on things, make sure there were no dead bodies lying around in their bushes?
The young woman fed her horse an apple before pulling herself astride with practiced ease. As she settled into a trot along their land's perimeter, the dogs followed suit, sniffing every which way around them.
About thirty minutes into her venture, far into the overgrown bush past the storehouses, the dogs stopped still as stone. They were signaling, noses pointed some 25 meters away at... well, Ida couldn't really see. The witch slowly cocked up her rifle, heart pounding in her ears. It was definitely someone - or something - a branch just snapped.
Acting from instinct, the young woman shot her gun into the air above that space. Be it animal or muggle, that would serve to scare them off. But if it wasn't...
"You've trespassed on private property," she shouted, in a voice that sounded much braver than she felt. "Reveal yourself at once!"
Weekdays were usually a frenzy of activity around the Chang grounds this hour. But turns out, it really puts a damper on one's import business when no one is allowed in or out of town. Standing now in the slight chill of a foggy summer morning, the silence felt extra eerie.
Her father and brother departed for Salem Square just a few minutes ago. By the sound of it, the town's men of commerce were having urgent meetings to insist on exclusions from the lockdown. Doubtful, but the Changs were nothing if not persevering.
The family had an unusual setup: an expansive parcel of land compared to most in Irvingly, a benefit of being among the first wizarding families to settle the area. At the outskirts of Swallowbury, less than a mile from Hawthorne Hollow, their home presented itself more as a farm than an estate. For one, there wasn't a manicured garden in sight. Instead, a narrow dirt road from the main street wound around several ancient oak trees, all the way up to a short row of utilitarian storehouses. Nearby horse stables and loading carriages were used to bring inventory to the train. A sad-looking vegetable garden had a few chickens loitering aimlessly in it. Their home overlooked it all. Beyond these structures, her father's lost ambition left about two acres of wildly overgrown space. It was hard to distinguish the forest from the trees over there, quite literally.
With the Governess and baby brother still asleep, her brother's two Xiasi hounds kept the witch company as she walked over to her horse's stable. Ida heard what happened, local rumors moved faster than any Daily Prophet. But surely there was nothing to worry about in the daytime? Besides, wouldn't it be better to check in on things, make sure there were no dead bodies lying around in their bushes?
The young woman fed her horse an apple before pulling herself astride with practiced ease. As she settled into a trot along their land's perimeter, the dogs followed suit, sniffing every which way around them.
About thirty minutes into her venture, far into the overgrown bush past the storehouses, the dogs stopped still as stone. They were signaling, noses pointed some 25 meters away at... well, Ida couldn't really see. The witch slowly cocked up her rifle, heart pounding in her ears. It was definitely someone - or something - a branch just snapped.
Acting from instinct, the young woman shot her gun into the air above that space. Be it animal or muggle, that would serve to scare them off. But if it wasn't...
"You've trespassed on private property," she shouted, in a voice that sounded much braver than she felt. "Reveal yourself at once!"
Open to anyone who is officially or unofficially investigating what's happening in Irvingly
RE: With guns blazing - Clifford Hillicker - July 13, 2022
Arrested on sight. The damn constabulary wasn’t kidding when they had announced that if anyone was found outside after curfew, they’d be placed in jail for the night. He’d been arrested a few times before - petty crimes, but when he was in a desperate state of mind, he’d do anything to achieve his goals. He meant well. (For his family - other people could go screw themselves and perish for all he cared.) Cliff had lifted his hands in the air when a wand had poked into his back while a voice demanded he turn around because he’d broken curfew, all while repeating the rules they’d set in place that morning. He complied without saying anything, and as Clifford slowly turned around to face the man his fingers curled into a fist before he punched the constable with as much strength as he could muster.
It was enough to make the man stagger back as he cursed and cupped his nose gushing blood, the wand stuck between his fingers. Not wasting a second longer Cliff stumbled away from him toward the woods, shaking his hand out; his knuckles were going to bruise, but he’d rather that than rot behind bars while this whole ordeal was happening. He had to get home. He had a little sister and brother who would be thrilled with the lack of supervision for however long he was held captive in Irvingly, and he was sure there wouldn’t be a house standing if he was gone for more than a day. Clifford had been wandering around the edge of Hawthorne Hollow waiting for an opening to sneak into the woods - if he only went far enough inside, the apparation barrier would have to give.
This was about as good an opening as any, and the man only shouted at him to stop as he disappeared into the woods; a spell shattered a branch by his head but the constable didn’t seem to follow him any further - his shouts for his peers lessened the further his feet took him. Cliff didn’t have a direction to go in, yet every now and then he paused to try to apparate home, with all the attempts being futile. The forest was silent around him as he continued forward, his feet pausing as a building came into view. He must have been running diagonal rather than away from Irvingly this whole time.
Yawning, the brunette brushed his hands through his hair as he eyed the property; it was going to be as good of a place as any to stop and rest for a bit, and even as he stepped onto a branch and snapped it, he didn’t think anything of it. Most citizens would be inside their homes with the doors locked, weary of some beast he hadn’t seen since he’d stepped foot into the woods. It was the gun that shot into the air that made Cliff pause. So maybe this family wasn’t as good as he’d briefly considered them to be. Interesting.
And then he laughed. It was a gut wrenching one and as he stumbled out of the woods at the woman’s insistence, his fingers were sprawled across his stomach. As if he cared he was on private property. It took him a moment to compose himself, and even as he tried to speak, he found himself pausing to catch his breath. Finally the laughing subsided. “And you’re breaking curfew, so it looks like we’re both going to get arrested.” Cliff called out to her as he shuffled forward. “The constabulary is right behind me, and I’m sure that gun shot just gave them a map straight to your home. And if they didn’t hear it, you just invited beastie to eat ya.” Clifford shrugged as he eyed the gun in her hand. Now that was something he was going to need if he wanted to get home.
It was enough to make the man stagger back as he cursed and cupped his nose gushing blood, the wand stuck between his fingers. Not wasting a second longer Cliff stumbled away from him toward the woods, shaking his hand out; his knuckles were going to bruise, but he’d rather that than rot behind bars while this whole ordeal was happening. He had to get home. He had a little sister and brother who would be thrilled with the lack of supervision for however long he was held captive in Irvingly, and he was sure there wouldn’t be a house standing if he was gone for more than a day. Clifford had been wandering around the edge of Hawthorne Hollow waiting for an opening to sneak into the woods - if he only went far enough inside, the apparation barrier would have to give.
This was about as good an opening as any, and the man only shouted at him to stop as he disappeared into the woods; a spell shattered a branch by his head but the constable didn’t seem to follow him any further - his shouts for his peers lessened the further his feet took him. Cliff didn’t have a direction to go in, yet every now and then he paused to try to apparate home, with all the attempts being futile. The forest was silent around him as he continued forward, his feet pausing as a building came into view. He must have been running diagonal rather than away from Irvingly this whole time.
Yawning, the brunette brushed his hands through his hair as he eyed the property; it was going to be as good of a place as any to stop and rest for a bit, and even as he stepped onto a branch and snapped it, he didn’t think anything of it. Most citizens would be inside their homes with the doors locked, weary of some beast he hadn’t seen since he’d stepped foot into the woods. It was the gun that shot into the air that made Cliff pause. So maybe this family wasn’t as good as he’d briefly considered them to be. Interesting.
And then he laughed. It was a gut wrenching one and as he stumbled out of the woods at the woman’s insistence, his fingers were sprawled across his stomach. As if he cared he was on private property. It took him a moment to compose himself, and even as he tried to speak, he found himself pausing to catch his breath. Finally the laughing subsided. “And you’re breaking curfew, so it looks like we’re both going to get arrested.” Cliff called out to her as he shuffled forward. “The constabulary is right behind me, and I’m sure that gun shot just gave them a map straight to your home. And if they didn’t hear it, you just invited beastie to eat ya.” Clifford shrugged as he eyed the gun in her hand. Now that was something he was going to need if he wanted to get home.
RE: With guns blazing - Ida Chang - July 14, 2022
Ida imagined a wide range of outcomes, but somehow this disheveled coyote-looking man emerging from the forest depths cackling like a psychopath was not one of them. He wore twigs and leaves and scratches like accessories, and her wary assessment was that he'd been outside for quite some time. The woman raised her eyebrows impassively as he explained himself, but that she kept her rifle trained on him spoke volumes.
"Curfew is over, you've managed to survive the first night," she put wryly, not particularly impressed by his scare tactics. Growing up, Ida's older brother made threats when he got desperate too. Saying things like I cursed you so if you tell mum your face falls off, or every time you go in my room a kitten dies. That beastie comment earned an outright scoff, however. No one knew the particulars of what happened, but Ida guessed it was a werewolf, which wouldn't pose so much threat in the daytime. ...Unless he was the werewolf, obviously.
Her right hand itched to slip her wand out of her sleeve, but uncertainty nagged at her. If it turned out he was a Muggle, whether he was a convict or not, casting a spell on him would really get her bloody arrested. It was impossible to tell. A scowl of frustration worked its way across her face as the brunette curled her fingers firmer around the gun instead.
"Then perhaps we'll make a bet," Ida swallowed her nerves and willed steady aim, feet pressing down hard into her horse's stirrups for a better angle down at him. "How about I leave you at here as bait, and we see if the constable or the beast makes its way to you first?" She let the question air out for just half a second before what came next.
"Yìzhì!" Mandarin really had its benefits for the element of surprise. The two Xiasi dogs charged forward barking and teeth barred, going for the man's limbs. Their command was to restrain rather than kill, of course. It's not like she was a monster.
"Curfew is over, you've managed to survive the first night," she put wryly, not particularly impressed by his scare tactics. Growing up, Ida's older brother made threats when he got desperate too. Saying things like I cursed you so if you tell mum your face falls off, or every time you go in my room a kitten dies. That beastie comment earned an outright scoff, however. No one knew the particulars of what happened, but Ida guessed it was a werewolf, which wouldn't pose so much threat in the daytime. ...Unless he was the werewolf, obviously.
Her right hand itched to slip her wand out of her sleeve, but uncertainty nagged at her. If it turned out he was a Muggle, whether he was a convict or not, casting a spell on him would really get her bloody arrested. It was impossible to tell. A scowl of frustration worked its way across her face as the brunette curled her fingers firmer around the gun instead.
"Then perhaps we'll make a bet," Ida swallowed her nerves and willed steady aim, feet pressing down hard into her horse's stirrups for a better angle down at him. "How about I leave you at here as bait, and we see if the constable or the beast makes its way to you first?" She let the question air out for just half a second before what came next.
"Yìzhì!" Mandarin really had its benefits for the element of surprise. The two Xiasi dogs charged forward barking and teeth barred, going for the man's limbs. Their command was to restrain rather than kill, of course. It's not like she was a monster.
RE: With guns blazing - Clifford Hillicker - July 14, 2022
So he’d survived the first night - that was a feat in itself. Cliff hadn’t seen any signs of the beast while he’d been traipsing through the woods, although he certainly had one spent a couple hours at most out there. He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Well don’t I deserve a prize for not being ripped in half?” The sarcasm dripped from his words as he brazenly took another step forward, eyeing the gun she had wrapped her fingers around. If she was going to shoot him she probably would have; muggles were known to be trigger happy, and even a wizard wouldn’t be daft enough to use magic in a place that so expressly forbid it. (Or well, most of the magical community, because he had no qualms using magic when it benefited him.)
Scowling at her, Cliff crossed his arms as the woman barked out words. “Well I’m a betting man, but even I know someone wouldn’t be daft enough to draw the beast to them.” He made a point to eye her up and down; he couldn’t outrun a horse, that much he knew, and maybe that was her plan. She'd be hailed a hero for finding the beast and there wasn't a single soul who'd miss him. A witch, he decided, who thought she could trap a beast with magic, or a very daft muggle with a death wish. Cliff took another step forward to taunt her, just in time for her to spew some foreign words he didn’t understand.
The two dogs charged forward at him without warning and Cliff stumbled backward as he fumbled for his wand in his sleeve. One of the dogs moved faster than the other; he made a quick decision to cast a [url=https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Freezing_Charm]spell[url] on the further one first, a burst of blue sputtering out the end of the wood, ultimately freezing the dog in place. The first dog went after his leg in the moments he’d used to cast the freezing charm, causing Cliff to grit his teeth as he felt the dog nip at him; he kicked at it with a flurry of curses against his lips as he finally cast stupefy on it. The second dog collapsed to the ground. He wasn’t the best with magic. Hogwarts had been rough for him despite having left after his OWLs, and without Algernon and Aldridge, he wasn’t sure he would have passed his classes at all.
The spells he did know were ones he used to steal objects.
Anger flared across his face as he glared at the girl. At least he wasn’t dead. “What the fuck! Are you a sadistic worshiper of the beast hoping to find its next sacrifice or just a bitch?” Cliff growled as he stomped forward with his wand raised. He was going to be arrested either way now, so he might as well make it worth it.
With his other hand, he moved to grab at anything he could of the horse - reins, hair, ear, it didn’t matter to Clifford. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t knock your ass out here and now? Drag you into the forest and make you bait.” He snapped at her.
Scowling at her, Cliff crossed his arms as the woman barked out words. “Well I’m a betting man, but even I know someone wouldn’t be daft enough to draw the beast to them.” He made a point to eye her up and down; he couldn’t outrun a horse, that much he knew, and maybe that was her plan. She'd be hailed a hero for finding the beast and there wasn't a single soul who'd miss him. A witch, he decided, who thought she could trap a beast with magic, or a very daft muggle with a death wish. Cliff took another step forward to taunt her, just in time for her to spew some foreign words he didn’t understand.
The two dogs charged forward at him without warning and Cliff stumbled backward as he fumbled for his wand in his sleeve. One of the dogs moved faster than the other; he made a quick decision to cast a [url=https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Freezing_Charm]spell[url] on the further one first, a burst of blue sputtering out the end of the wood, ultimately freezing the dog in place. The first dog went after his leg in the moments he’d used to cast the freezing charm, causing Cliff to grit his teeth as he felt the dog nip at him; he kicked at it with a flurry of curses against his lips as he finally cast stupefy on it. The second dog collapsed to the ground. He wasn’t the best with magic. Hogwarts had been rough for him despite having left after his OWLs, and without Algernon and Aldridge, he wasn’t sure he would have passed his classes at all.
The spells he did know were ones he used to steal objects.
Anger flared across his face as he glared at the girl. At least he wasn’t dead. “What the fuck! Are you a sadistic worshiper of the beast hoping to find its next sacrifice or just a bitch?” Cliff growled as he stomped forward with his wand raised. He was going to be arrested either way now, so he might as well make it worth it.
With his other hand, he moved to grab at anything he could of the horse - reins, hair, ear, it didn’t matter to Clifford. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t knock your ass out here and now? Drag you into the forest and make you bait.” He snapped at her.
RE: With guns blazing - Ida Chang - July 14, 2022
Ida's heart raced as the man took a step closer, index finger quivering on the trigger. It's not as though she expected to one day need to shoot someone. Should she attempt, she needed the resolve to follow through. This rifle only had three rounds in it and one was already gone. It's not as though this maniac would wait patiently for her to reload. Bloody useless muggle contraptions!
The dogs at least would slow him down, or give her a sense of who she was dealing with. Just then, he drew a wand to grapple clumsily with their attack, sending Ida into true flight or fight mode. Local laws be damned, he attacked her first, any Auror could just check their wands now!
The witch swung the rifle to sit in its sling on her back, and whipped out her wand to un-freeze Confucious the dog whilst the madman pansied about in his attempt to stupefy the other. "Ha!" Ida's cheeks flushed red with indignant anger, returning his glower with dagger-eyes of her own. Growing up around their family business, she heard her fair share of sailor talk. But she hated to see her hounds take the brunt of the first lash. "I'm a supreme bitch," she bellowed, a short-lived introduction if you will.
"Yìzhì!" she shouted again, though too late. The poor dog was making a slow and shuddering recovery, and the intruder already advanced on her, dangerously closing their distance. The man made a grab for the horse's reins, though the flurry of spells and sudden movement spooked it. Chestnut hated people it didn't know. The stallion shrieked, raising on its hind legs and taking Ida with it - oh god, at least kick his face, she willed - before it bolted, sending Ida tumbling down from her seat. She'd only just managed to get her foot off one stirrup, but a wave of pain from her other foot brought the girl to her knees as the horse rushed off away from them.
Undeterred, she cast a silent Expelliarmus spell, hoping to fling the wizard's wand away from him.
The dogs at least would slow him down, or give her a sense of who she was dealing with. Just then, he drew a wand to grapple clumsily with their attack, sending Ida into true flight or fight mode. Local laws be damned, he attacked her first, any Auror could just check their wands now!
The witch swung the rifle to sit in its sling on her back, and whipped out her wand to un-freeze Confucious the dog whilst the madman pansied about in his attempt to stupefy the other. "Ha!" Ida's cheeks flushed red with indignant anger, returning his glower with dagger-eyes of her own. Growing up around their family business, she heard her fair share of sailor talk. But she hated to see her hounds take the brunt of the first lash. "I'm a supreme bitch," she bellowed, a short-lived introduction if you will.
"Yìzhì!" she shouted again, though too late. The poor dog was making a slow and shuddering recovery, and the intruder already advanced on her, dangerously closing their distance. The man made a grab for the horse's reins, though the flurry of spells and sudden movement spooked it. Chestnut hated people it didn't know. The stallion shrieked, raising on its hind legs and taking Ida with it - oh god, at least kick his face, she willed - before it bolted, sending Ida tumbling down from her seat. She'd only just managed to get her foot off one stirrup, but a wave of pain from her other foot brought the girl to her knees as the horse rushed off away from them.
Undeterred, she cast a silent Expelliarmus spell, hoping to fling the wizard's wand away from him.
RE: With guns blazing - Clifford Hillicker - July 15, 2022
Supreme bitch. Clifford huffed a laugh at her - at least she was honest, and if anyone cared for his opinion he would whole-heartedly agree with her. In fact, he couldn’t wait to tell Algernon that he’d met the ice queen while wandering around Hawthorne Hollow, but then again, he really didn’t want to explain why he was wandering around, so maybe not. He’d save that story for a drunken night in his kitchen when his friend was trying to force him to talk about his feelings.
His fingers gripped around the reins of the horse, although he didn’t quite have a plan after that. Lead her into the woods? Tie the horse to a tree and wait for beastie to show up and eat it? (Did it even eat animals, or did it have a taste for human flesh?) She would probably just jump off the horse and then he’d have to tackle her. In the commotion of him moving and yelling, he must have spooked the horse. It reared back and Clifford instantly let go of the reins as he scrambled backward to keep himself from being kicked. The girl tumbled to the ground as the horse took off and he stood there with his fingers curling into a fist, wondering if he should help her at least to her feet - but she had threatened him first, and quite frankly, he wasn’t that good of a person.
Cliff’s wand shot out of his hand without much warning, and he blinked as it skidded a few yards away from him, landing in some tall grass that would make it difficult to find later. His eyes were drawn back to her, where he narrowed them. Now he really wasn’t going to help her. She was a witch, and now he was unarmed which wasn’t going to bode well for him; he wasn’t going to be at her mercy. Cliff shuffled his feet against the ground before he finally moved in an attempt to tackle the poor girl. He wasn’t sure what the goal of this was - he wanted the gun now that he didn’t have his wand.
It seemed like a good idea. He could have the gun and she could have her wand. (Until he decided he wanted that too, but that was a future problem.)
His fingers gripped around the reins of the horse, although he didn’t quite have a plan after that. Lead her into the woods? Tie the horse to a tree and wait for beastie to show up and eat it? (Did it even eat animals, or did it have a taste for human flesh?) She would probably just jump off the horse and then he’d have to tackle her. In the commotion of him moving and yelling, he must have spooked the horse. It reared back and Clifford instantly let go of the reins as he scrambled backward to keep himself from being kicked. The girl tumbled to the ground as the horse took off and he stood there with his fingers curling into a fist, wondering if he should help her at least to her feet - but she had threatened him first, and quite frankly, he wasn’t that good of a person.
Cliff’s wand shot out of his hand without much warning, and he blinked as it skidded a few yards away from him, landing in some tall grass that would make it difficult to find later. His eyes were drawn back to her, where he narrowed them. Now he really wasn’t going to help her. She was a witch, and now he was unarmed which wasn’t going to bode well for him; he wasn’t going to be at her mercy. Cliff shuffled his feet against the ground before he finally moved in an attempt to tackle the poor girl. He wasn’t sure what the goal of this was - he wanted the gun now that he didn’t have his wand.
It seemed like a good idea. He could have the gun and she could have her wand. (Until he decided he wanted that too, but that was a future problem.)
RE: With guns blazing - Ida Chang - July 16, 2022
Any satisfaction Ida might’ve felt over her successful spell dispelled immediately. In her mind, one big threat was gone, but any animal backed into a corner becomes even more dangerous. Narrowed, cold eyes caused her heart to skip a beat, and confirmed this.
As the man considered his options, the witch moved up to a slow stand. It’s as though she was trying to not startle him, but really, she wanted to gingerly test out her aching foot. Ida bit back a wince. Damn - not good. This has to end now, before things get… well, even more out of hand. Though she felt confident in her ability to entrap with magic, if it came down to a battle of strength… After several years of duking it out with her brother, Ida had more practice than most girls, but it was a poor match. He was a man, after all, and an athletic, feral-looking one at that.
“You’re not going to fetch your wand?” she inquired defiantly, warily looking on because she was fully aware that this barbarian would do nothing of the sort. “Stupefy!” she cast a well-defined sphere of energy that went right at her target. But it narrowly avoided his head, the man moving too fast and chaotically in something like a crouched zig-zag (a distant part of the woman’s academic mind filed that tidbit away as hm, interesting). Pre-empting his impact, Ida lept aside, but a second too late. He collided fully into her left shoulder, sending them both tumbling down.
“Aughh!” she screamed, clambering to shove him off her. Damn it, was he going for her wand? Even if the wand didn’t cooperate, at that point she’d be done for. “Get off me! Get your hands off me!” she shrieked, hoping to cause enough noise that someone would hear them. Fuck– she needed to find an opening. Brute force is a remarkably mundane and unsightly way to die, really. Think, Ida, think!
But damn it all - she didn’t have the practice to safely transform herself without full concentration, and at such close range, too afraid to point her wand at his head should he pry or break it away. Ida strained to keep her wand out of his grasp, sending scratches and elbows to any surface that came into contact.
Only as they grappled around on the ground did Ida come to a moment of realization that paused her screaming. He wasn’t going for her wand at all, but her gun! She’d nearly forgotten it, sitting on its strap on her back, butt end of it presently digging into her lower back while the top of the rifle pointed diagonally up over her left shoulder. Ida squirmed violently from under him.
“What, do you plan to shoot me?” The question came out more indignant than fearful, primarily over the idea of dying by such a stupid muggle contraption. Under no circumstances will she allow this to happen.
Normal people usually flinch and cover when they’re getting beaten up, don’t they? Or cry and wait for rescue? Perhaps she had a death wish after all. For Ida heaved all her force to surge up at him instead, to take a fistful of his hair in her right hand, still holding her wand, and deliver a decisive knee to what she could only hope was that weak spot between a man’s legs.
As the man considered his options, the witch moved up to a slow stand. It’s as though she was trying to not startle him, but really, she wanted to gingerly test out her aching foot. Ida bit back a wince. Damn - not good. This has to end now, before things get… well, even more out of hand. Though she felt confident in her ability to entrap with magic, if it came down to a battle of strength… After several years of duking it out with her brother, Ida had more practice than most girls, but it was a poor match. He was a man, after all, and an athletic, feral-looking one at that.
“You’re not going to fetch your wand?” she inquired defiantly, warily looking on because she was fully aware that this barbarian would do nothing of the sort. “Stupefy!” she cast a well-defined sphere of energy that went right at her target. But it narrowly avoided his head, the man moving too fast and chaotically in something like a crouched zig-zag (a distant part of the woman’s academic mind filed that tidbit away as hm, interesting). Pre-empting his impact, Ida lept aside, but a second too late. He collided fully into her left shoulder, sending them both tumbling down.
“Aughh!” she screamed, clambering to shove him off her. Damn it, was he going for her wand? Even if the wand didn’t cooperate, at that point she’d be done for. “Get off me! Get your hands off me!” she shrieked, hoping to cause enough noise that someone would hear them. Fuck– she needed to find an opening. Brute force is a remarkably mundane and unsightly way to die, really. Think, Ida, think!
But damn it all - she didn’t have the practice to safely transform herself without full concentration, and at such close range, too afraid to point her wand at his head should he pry or break it away. Ida strained to keep her wand out of his grasp, sending scratches and elbows to any surface that came into contact.
Only as they grappled around on the ground did Ida come to a moment of realization that paused her screaming. He wasn’t going for her wand at all, but her gun! She’d nearly forgotten it, sitting on its strap on her back, butt end of it presently digging into her lower back while the top of the rifle pointed diagonally up over her left shoulder. Ida squirmed violently from under him.
“What, do you plan to shoot me?” The question came out more indignant than fearful, primarily over the idea of dying by such a stupid muggle contraption. Under no circumstances will she allow this to happen.
Normal people usually flinch and cover when they’re getting beaten up, don’t they? Or cry and wait for rescue? Perhaps she had a death wish after all. For Ida heaved all her force to surge up at him instead, to take a fistful of his hair in her right hand, still holding her wand, and deliver a decisive knee to what she could only hope was that weak spot between a man’s legs.
RE: With guns blazing - Clifford Hillicker - July 17, 2022
A spell buzzed just above his head before he could manage to tackle her, and he was thankful. Being stupefied was a rough spell to come back from, and it always made his limbs heavy; she started screeching and Cliff briefly wondered if she was a banshee and not a witch. She was struggling beneath him and Cliff kept making a grab at the gun strapped to her back, all while gritting his teeth together because she was so damn loud. He was thankful when he didn't hear footsteps coming from the house; if he had free hands, he'd press his against her mouth, but he didn't, so Cliff just had to listen to her holler.
“Would you shut the fuck up for one second?!” He yelled over her as his fingers wrapped awkwardly around the top of the rifle by her shoulder; he tried wiggling it out of the strap, but with their combined weight it made it nearly impossible for him to tug it free. The girl was deliberately keeping the wand from his grasp too, and instead shifted his weight in a feeble attempt to give himself some space to pull the rifle free while keeping her pinned to the ground. (It never did cross his mind what someone would think if they actually came upon them in this predicament.) He probably should have thought about how he was going to do this before he went for it, but it was much too late for that thought. He didn’t respond to shooting her; he wasn’t a murderer, even if she thought he was one.
But, Cliff would lean into any sort of foul reputation people had of him. He had to live up to it, after all.
Too busy dealing with the consequences of his actions, Cliff didn’t bother to think that she’d be bold enough to do something more than squirm and try to burst his eardrum with her insistent yelling - the moment her hands gripped his hair and her knee made contact with his groin, Clifford released all of his grip on her, rolling off her as he groaned in agony. He laid next to her on the ground. She was much stronger than she looked and he was going to feel that for quite some time. He should have gone for his own wand in hindsight.
Closing his eyes, he panted for a moment to allow some of the pain to pass before he trusted himself to speak. Cliff loathed the idea of being at her mercy, and he tossed his arm over his eyes. “I’m just trying to get home. I have a little kid there without supervision, and if I can’t fucking apparate or whatever bullshit the constabulary thinks they can impose on us, I gotta find another way.” His little sister would be a terror, especially if he didn’t come home for a few days. She wouldn’t fly to Algernon’s house - much too far - but he wouldn’t be shocked if Meena tried to find her way in and then was eaten by beastie in the process. The Hillickers had shit luck.
He mumbled, then, more to himself than to her. “...and a gun, they wouldn’t come after a muggle…” But they would if he was throwing spells in the forest, especially given how awful Clifford was at magic. Plus he knew a few of the constables and they’d arrest him on sight just for breathing.
“Would you shut the fuck up for one second?!” He yelled over her as his fingers wrapped awkwardly around the top of the rifle by her shoulder; he tried wiggling it out of the strap, but with their combined weight it made it nearly impossible for him to tug it free. The girl was deliberately keeping the wand from his grasp too, and instead shifted his weight in a feeble attempt to give himself some space to pull the rifle free while keeping her pinned to the ground. (It never did cross his mind what someone would think if they actually came upon them in this predicament.) He probably should have thought about how he was going to do this before he went for it, but it was much too late for that thought. He didn’t respond to shooting her; he wasn’t a murderer, even if she thought he was one.
But, Cliff would lean into any sort of foul reputation people had of him. He had to live up to it, after all.
Too busy dealing with the consequences of his actions, Cliff didn’t bother to think that she’d be bold enough to do something more than squirm and try to burst his eardrum with her insistent yelling - the moment her hands gripped his hair and her knee made contact with his groin, Clifford released all of his grip on her, rolling off her as he groaned in agony. He laid next to her on the ground. She was much stronger than she looked and he was going to feel that for quite some time. He should have gone for his own wand in hindsight.
Closing his eyes, he panted for a moment to allow some of the pain to pass before he trusted himself to speak. Cliff loathed the idea of being at her mercy, and he tossed his arm over his eyes. “I’m just trying to get home. I have a little kid there without supervision, and if I can’t fucking apparate or whatever bullshit the constabulary thinks they can impose on us, I gotta find another way.” His little sister would be a terror, especially if he didn’t come home for a few days. She wouldn’t fly to Algernon’s house - much too far - but he wouldn’t be shocked if Meena tried to find her way in and then was eaten by beastie in the process. The Hillickers had shit luck.
He mumbled, then, more to himself than to her. “...and a gun, they wouldn’t come after a muggle…” But they would if he was throwing spells in the forest, especially given how awful Clifford was at magic. Plus he knew a few of the constables and they’d arrest him on sight just for breathing.
RE: With guns blazing - Ida Chang - July 19, 2022
Ida would absolutely not shut the fuck up, even if this meant getting caught in such a compromising position. It’s not as though any of this would play out well for her either, if they were caught. But as a matter of pride, she would die before giving up a fight - and fight she did.
Finding the madman’s, er, metaphorical achilles heel gave the witch the opening she needed. Ida rolled swiftly away from under him, sitting up and scooting back as far as she could. Her chest was heaving, not realizing the way he’d pinned her down had been restricting her breath. Besides this, her foot was in agony from all their struggle, but she couldn’t treat it now. The danger didn’t feel particularly over yet. In a show of warning, Ida kept her wand out and pointed at the man, lowering only slightly to see him struggling. It seemed she bruised more than his ego.
Now on closer look, he seemed much younger than she thought. Not that much older than her brother, though his hands were decidedly stronger and more calloused. If she were not so worried about her imminent demise, she might even have felt bad about the genuinely bereft expression on his face. Operative word might. Nothing about this man that indicated that was trustworthy.
“I feel sorry for your kids,” she said, not an ounce of sarcasm in her voice because it was true, even if it was for a different reason altogether. How young was he to have children already? She wondered, shuddering at the idea of someone like him raising anything. “But you’re not going to get out of here in any of the ways you’ve mentioned. The Aurors have us in a glass jar.” Well, more like a glass bowl put upside down on top of them all, but now was not the time to get technical. She pointed directly above them to the clouds. Any magical being could look at it for long enough to see the slightest shimmer of a distortion -- the barrier at work.
“I’m sorry but you can’t have my father’s rifle. If you take it, you may as well murder me this instant, and spare him the trouble.” The witch sniffed, shaking some leaves absently from her hair with one hand while keeping her wand pointed with the other. It’s not like she was fishing for pity. Ida put the words as blandly and succinctly as someone might describe the size and color of a quaffle. These were simply the facts, and she hoped now that she’d shown him that she was not one to be taken advantage of, perhaps she could reason with him. Or at least buy enough time for someone to find them.
“What the hell were you arrested for, anyway?” Ida looked at him skeptically, wondering how a convict might have his wand, or what kind of runaway didn’t have the constables hot on his heels already. There was a full story here somewhere.
Finding the madman’s, er, metaphorical achilles heel gave the witch the opening she needed. Ida rolled swiftly away from under him, sitting up and scooting back as far as she could. Her chest was heaving, not realizing the way he’d pinned her down had been restricting her breath. Besides this, her foot was in agony from all their struggle, but she couldn’t treat it now. The danger didn’t feel particularly over yet. In a show of warning, Ida kept her wand out and pointed at the man, lowering only slightly to see him struggling. It seemed she bruised more than his ego.
Now on closer look, he seemed much younger than she thought. Not that much older than her brother, though his hands were decidedly stronger and more calloused. If she were not so worried about her imminent demise, she might even have felt bad about the genuinely bereft expression on his face. Operative word might. Nothing about this man that indicated that was trustworthy.
“I feel sorry for your kids,” she said, not an ounce of sarcasm in her voice because it was true, even if it was for a different reason altogether. How young was he to have children already? She wondered, shuddering at the idea of someone like him raising anything. “But you’re not going to get out of here in any of the ways you’ve mentioned. The Aurors have us in a glass jar.” Well, more like a glass bowl put upside down on top of them all, but now was not the time to get technical. She pointed directly above them to the clouds. Any magical being could look at it for long enough to see the slightest shimmer of a distortion -- the barrier at work.
“I’m sorry but you can’t have my father’s rifle. If you take it, you may as well murder me this instant, and spare him the trouble.” The witch sniffed, shaking some leaves absently from her hair with one hand while keeping her wand pointed with the other. It’s not like she was fishing for pity. Ida put the words as blandly and succinctly as someone might describe the size and color of a quaffle. These were simply the facts, and she hoped now that she’d shown him that she was not one to be taken advantage of, perhaps she could reason with him. Or at least buy enough time for someone to find them.
“What the hell were you arrested for, anyway?” Ida looked at him skeptically, wondering how a convict might have his wand, or what kind of runaway didn’t have the constables hot on his heels already. There was a full story here somewhere.
RE: With guns blazing - Clifford Hillicker - July 19, 2022
Finally the pain subsided, but Cliff just laid on the ground, ignoring the girl as she hurried away from him. Part of him wondered why she hadn’t shot another spell at him - it wasn’t as if he had his wand on him, and she had every upper hand against him. She spoke about feeling sorry his kids and Cliff couldn’t help but frown. He didn’t bother to respond to her. She felt sorry for them. He did too. Being a parent wasn’t something he wanted in life, but here he was living the dream, even if it was just as a pseudo parent.
Instead he flicked his eyes toward the sky as she motioned at it, the glimmer of the shield difficult to see against the morning sky; he squinted until he saw the glimmer. Cliff chuckled quietly. “If they’re coming in, there’s a way out. No way someone is standing there, dispelling the barrier for people to walk in, putting it up, and then taking it down for people to leave. There’s a weak point, a way out. And I’m finding it.” He was aware that they may have all come at once, that they were stuck here just as much as he was, but part of Clifford hoped he was right.
Sitting up, he propped himself up on his elbow as she spoke of the gun. He eyed it before he stiffly moved to sit with his legs crossed. “Sounds like you have some issues you should work out with your old man,” he mused with a laugh; it wasn’t as if his life goal was to be a murderer. Knowing that, Cliff silently decreed he wouldn’t go for her gun again, but he wasn’t daft enough to voice that. He’d rather go against himself than go against his word, even to a stranger. He had some semblance of pride, even if it was constantly shattered and bruised when he needed something. He was shocked she hadn’t run yet, and as he turned to face her, he could surmise she’d probably gotten hurt after tumbling off the horse.
Cliff raked his fingers through hair, knocking out some leaves that had stuck in his hair from their tumble as she asked a personal question. He pulled one free and frowned at it as if personally offended by it. It took him a few moments before he cleared his throat. He still didn’t have a wand and just by looking at her Clifford could tell she’d probably damn near kill him if she felt threatened.
So when he opened his mouth, dark brown eyes staring down at a leaf, even he was shocked when the real truth came out of his lips. “My ma-” He winced, calling her that; Cliff had been calling her by her first name since she’d walked out the door. “Left a few years ago to travel the world or some bullshit and left my siblings at home with me. I don’t make a whole lot, and it’s not like I can let them starve. They’re still kids.” He frowned as he tossed the leaf next to him.
He read his sister to sleep. He braided her hair. He depleted his savings for his brother to attend Hogwarts. He stole things when he was short of money. He’d stepped up in ways he’d deny with his dying breath. “They are my kids,” he growled. “So sometimes I steal things so they won’t go without. Doesn’t matter what the goal is, stealing is frowned upon.” Of course sometimes he stole things because he was bored. It wasn’t all black and white for Cliff - he wasn’t a good person and he was fine with that. He was positive he’d find himself in a jail cell for punching a Constable in the face earlier, but he left that detail out.
“And if you feel sorry for them, screw you.” His brain connected to the comment she’d made earlier. Cliff finally made a move to stand, once on feet, he turned toward her with a frown and his hands slightly raised. Being shot with a spell wasn’t on his to-do list this morning. “I’m going home. If you’re up for it because you’re like me and have zero self-preservation, feel free to come with. Show your dad this supreme bitch you’ve shown me. Hell, maybe beastie will be scared of ya too.” Smirking, Cliff kept his hands raised as he began to back up. He needed his wand first.
Instead he flicked his eyes toward the sky as she motioned at it, the glimmer of the shield difficult to see against the morning sky; he squinted until he saw the glimmer. Cliff chuckled quietly. “If they’re coming in, there’s a way out. No way someone is standing there, dispelling the barrier for people to walk in, putting it up, and then taking it down for people to leave. There’s a weak point, a way out. And I’m finding it.” He was aware that they may have all come at once, that they were stuck here just as much as he was, but part of Clifford hoped he was right.
Sitting up, he propped himself up on his elbow as she spoke of the gun. He eyed it before he stiffly moved to sit with his legs crossed. “Sounds like you have some issues you should work out with your old man,” he mused with a laugh; it wasn’t as if his life goal was to be a murderer. Knowing that, Cliff silently decreed he wouldn’t go for her gun again, but he wasn’t daft enough to voice that. He’d rather go against himself than go against his word, even to a stranger. He had some semblance of pride, even if it was constantly shattered and bruised when he needed something. He was shocked she hadn’t run yet, and as he turned to face her, he could surmise she’d probably gotten hurt after tumbling off the horse.
Cliff raked his fingers through hair, knocking out some leaves that had stuck in his hair from their tumble as she asked a personal question. He pulled one free and frowned at it as if personally offended by it. It took him a few moments before he cleared his throat. He still didn’t have a wand and just by looking at her Clifford could tell she’d probably damn near kill him if she felt threatened.
So when he opened his mouth, dark brown eyes staring down at a leaf, even he was shocked when the real truth came out of his lips. “My ma-” He winced, calling her that; Cliff had been calling her by her first name since she’d walked out the door. “Left a few years ago to travel the world or some bullshit and left my siblings at home with me. I don’t make a whole lot, and it’s not like I can let them starve. They’re still kids.” He frowned as he tossed the leaf next to him.
He read his sister to sleep. He braided her hair. He depleted his savings for his brother to attend Hogwarts. He stole things when he was short of money. He’d stepped up in ways he’d deny with his dying breath. “They are my kids,” he growled. “So sometimes I steal things so they won’t go without. Doesn’t matter what the goal is, stealing is frowned upon.” Of course sometimes he stole things because he was bored. It wasn’t all black and white for Cliff - he wasn’t a good person and he was fine with that. He was positive he’d find himself in a jail cell for punching a Constable in the face earlier, but he left that detail out.
“And if you feel sorry for them, screw you.” His brain connected to the comment she’d made earlier. Cliff finally made a move to stand, once on feet, he turned toward her with a frown and his hands slightly raised. Being shot with a spell wasn’t on his to-do list this morning. “I’m going home. If you’re up for it because you’re like me and have zero self-preservation, feel free to come with. Show your dad this supreme bitch you’ve shown me. Hell, maybe beastie will be scared of ya too.” Smirking, Cliff kept his hands raised as he began to back up. He needed his wand first.
RE: With guns blazing - Ida Chang - July 19, 2022
Confucius the dog finally made his way over to Ida after recovering from the Freeze Spell, seemingly a bit disoriented and miffed about his Stupified companion Laozi, though uncertain of what happened or how they got there. So the hound curled up next to her, dropping his head tiredly into her lap.
“You’re right that there may be an opening,” she acquiesced, mind turning over the challenge. “But I honestly doubt that it’s anywhere out here. This is where it’s most impenetrable - they’re scared of what’s in the forest. I bet it’s somewhere hiding in plain sight. Probably out by the muggles.” Maybe the infirmary, she wondered, choosing to not share her hunch lest it make the man charge into the hospital like a raging lunatic. But in her mind, if there was anywhere they’d need quick in and out access, it’d be related to emergency services.
Still thoughtful about the challenge, Ida didn’t bother to acknowledge what he told her about her father beyond a derisive snort of laughter. It’s true, of course. They certainly had some issues, but she had serious doubts that they would ever work through it.
The brunette’s expression remained unmoved as she listened to the stranger speak - probably the most words he’d strung together into a sentence this entire time, which therefore made it the most interesting part of their encounter yet. She didn’t entirely move her wand off of him, but held it in her hand lazily as she propped her chin on her fist, her other hand absently stroking Connie’s head in her lap. Something about his story stung. Maybe because it reminded her a lot about her own, and it made her a bit uncomfortable to realize that they had so much in common.
“My mum left me alone with my brothers too,” she finally relented in some strange kind of quid pro quo, letting the idea marinate that having a father in the picture didn’t help much. Though the stranger didn’t strike her as trustworthy, or sane, or even all that bright, what he said didn’t sound like a lie, and Ida understood that it probably took it out of him to share. It failed to explain why she felt compelled to respond, however. “Sounds like they were both selfish bitches.” The witch finished with a shrug, her calm expression belying the twist in her chest as she thought about how she called herself a bitch earlier. She often wondered how much she and her mum were alike, and the thought scared her.
Upon hearing that he had been arrested for stealing, of all things, Ida could barely repress her groan. She absolutely hated knowing that she jumped to conclusions, even if it was an honest mistake from being on edge about a rampant monster. It wasn’t that stealing was okay, but didn’t the bloody constabulary have other more urgent matters to attend to at this moment, besides keeping a man from his family? Ida could only consider two possible reasons for this: the constabulary was utterly incompetent, or this man wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Of course, these options are not mutually exclusive.
As the stranger stood up, however, Ida immediately straightened to attention, and pointed her wand at him as fiercely as she did before. She didn’t know what the hell screw you meant, but she assumed it wasn’t a positive, and it wasn’t as though their little tête-à-tête absolved him from being a complete ass.
“Take one more step and I’ll jinx the everlasting shit out of you,” the young woman deadpanned, voice so eerily devoid of emotion that it likely made her words sound all the more terrifying. “Don’t think that just because I feel sorry for you I’ve turned into an idiot. How do I know you won’t just retrieve your wand and trap me the first second you get?” Ida didn’t actually think he would, but she was also having a hard time getting up from this spot at the moment, and wasn’t sure how well she could weather a second skirmish.
“Accio wand,” she said, and the man’s wand swiftly sailed from the bushes to the palm of her hand. Honestly, this was a good lesson for the man. Never lose your weapon in battle. “Find me a long stick, I need a bit of help walking. And pick up my dog,” she ordered, jabbing at the Stupefied pup laying a few feet away from them. “I’m not making any promises, but there might be a way we can get you out of here.” We?
“You’re right that there may be an opening,” she acquiesced, mind turning over the challenge. “But I honestly doubt that it’s anywhere out here. This is where it’s most impenetrable - they’re scared of what’s in the forest. I bet it’s somewhere hiding in plain sight. Probably out by the muggles.” Maybe the infirmary, she wondered, choosing to not share her hunch lest it make the man charge into the hospital like a raging lunatic. But in her mind, if there was anywhere they’d need quick in and out access, it’d be related to emergency services.
Still thoughtful about the challenge, Ida didn’t bother to acknowledge what he told her about her father beyond a derisive snort of laughter. It’s true, of course. They certainly had some issues, but she had serious doubts that they would ever work through it.
The brunette’s expression remained unmoved as she listened to the stranger speak - probably the most words he’d strung together into a sentence this entire time, which therefore made it the most interesting part of their encounter yet. She didn’t entirely move her wand off of him, but held it in her hand lazily as she propped her chin on her fist, her other hand absently stroking Connie’s head in her lap. Something about his story stung. Maybe because it reminded her a lot about her own, and it made her a bit uncomfortable to realize that they had so much in common.
“My mum left me alone with my brothers too,” she finally relented in some strange kind of quid pro quo, letting the idea marinate that having a father in the picture didn’t help much. Though the stranger didn’t strike her as trustworthy, or sane, or even all that bright, what he said didn’t sound like a lie, and Ida understood that it probably took it out of him to share. It failed to explain why she felt compelled to respond, however. “Sounds like they were both selfish bitches.” The witch finished with a shrug, her calm expression belying the twist in her chest as she thought about how she called herself a bitch earlier. She often wondered how much she and her mum were alike, and the thought scared her.
Upon hearing that he had been arrested for stealing, of all things, Ida could barely repress her groan. She absolutely hated knowing that she jumped to conclusions, even if it was an honest mistake from being on edge about a rampant monster. It wasn’t that stealing was okay, but didn’t the bloody constabulary have other more urgent matters to attend to at this moment, besides keeping a man from his family? Ida could only consider two possible reasons for this: the constabulary was utterly incompetent, or this man wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Of course, these options are not mutually exclusive.
As the stranger stood up, however, Ida immediately straightened to attention, and pointed her wand at him as fiercely as she did before. She didn’t know what the hell screw you meant, but she assumed it wasn’t a positive, and it wasn’t as though their little tête-à-tête absolved him from being a complete ass.
“Take one more step and I’ll jinx the everlasting shit out of you,” the young woman deadpanned, voice so eerily devoid of emotion that it likely made her words sound all the more terrifying. “Don’t think that just because I feel sorry for you I’ve turned into an idiot. How do I know you won’t just retrieve your wand and trap me the first second you get?” Ida didn’t actually think he would, but she was also having a hard time getting up from this spot at the moment, and wasn’t sure how well she could weather a second skirmish.
“Accio wand,” she said, and the man’s wand swiftly sailed from the bushes to the palm of her hand. Honestly, this was a good lesson for the man. Never lose your weapon in battle. “Find me a long stick, I need a bit of help walking. And pick up my dog,” she ordered, jabbing at the Stupefied pup laying a few feet away from them. “I’m not making any promises, but there might be a way we can get you out of here.” We?
RE: With guns blazing - Clifford Hillicker - July 20, 2022
Tilting his head at her, Cliff couldn’t help the slight grin that spread over his lips. It wasn’t often that people told him he was right about anything (he certainly wasn’t the brightest person by any means), and part of him was thrilled to be able to tell Algernon that maybe he wasn’t the dumbest person on the planet. He didn’t answer her, merely nodding at the strange woman. Out by the muggles was a large enough area he wouldn’t even know where to start, although maybe he could con Algae into being his backup - if anyone knew how much he’d want to get home, it would be his only friend. Either that or he’d lock the doors to his flat and keep him hostage knowing damn well the lengths he’d go.
Happy then, that she hadn’t interrupted him while telling her his most intimate thoughts, Cliff frowned at the mention of her mother leaving her alone. He tried his hardest, put his best foot forward and gave every fiber of his being to ensure Meena and Heath were taken care of, even if he complained the entire time he did it. He’d been freshly eighteen when the farm and his siblings had been thrust in his lap, leaving him to flounder and drown while he figured his life out - it hadn’t helped that he knew every sickle he scraped together would go toward paying for his brother’s Hogwarts tuition the following year. It mattered to Clifford that both his siblings had the better shot at a life worth living than he did. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if they were afraid of him, like this woman seemed to be of her father.
His lips twitched into amusement. Were they bonding over how shitty their moms were? He wished he could feel a hint of sorrow, but it was nice, somewhat, to have someone who understood. “If I had a drink, I’d cheers to that.” Cliff laughed quietly. His thoughts didn’t go to his mother often, yet when they did he could only hope she hadn’t brought another child into this world. If she ever did come back, which he highly doubted because she hadn’t even sent an owl in five years, he’d have a few choice words for her. It was because of her that he’d set himself down a path of lying, cheating and stealing, and because of her he’d never be able to stop. It was refreshing, in an odd sense, that the stranger hadn’t immediately scoffed at him or told him there were other ways of getting things than stealing.
Clifford froze though, when she demanded it, his hands in the air. His eyes narrowed at her, assessing her; he still wasn’t certain she wasn’t a murderer. She didn’t look sweet or innocent, and hell, looked more than capable of killing someone. Her being a sadist worshiper of the beast hoping to find its next sacrifice was still on the table. “Yeah, well if you feel sorry for me, fuck off. I don’t need your pity.” He snapped harshly. This was why he never told anyone the truth - they looked at him differently when they’d realized how much he struggled to take care of his siblings. Clifford hated that look, much preferring the look of disgust when they heard he’d been caught stealing again. He didn’t bother to answer her other question, knowing full well that trapping her was beyond any magical capability he had, but he wasn’t about to offer up any form of weakness on a silver platter to anyone.
We? He cocked his eyebrow in confusion.
The woman summoned his wand and he turned toward her with his lips pressed into a thin line before huffing. He spun around toward the woods and stomped off toward them, briefly wondering how far he could get without his wand. Would beastie find him quickly? Or did he have a few hours? It surprised Clifford then, when he bent down next to a tree to root through some of the branches, his fingers curling around one that seemed long enough. He had to crack it a few times as it was still attached to the tree, and when it finally came loose he stumbled backward a bit, clutching it in his hands. He returned and offered to the woman before he bent down to scoop up the dog who was still trying to overcome his stupefy spell. Absent-mindedly, he stroked the dog between its ears.
Then, thinking of some of the manners someone had beat into him at some point in his life, Cliff placed the dog back on the ground and held his hand out to her. He’d pick the dog up if she decided to take his hand, although as he blinked at her, Cliff wasn’t entirely sure she would. He thought about flinging himself at her, trying for both wands, but Clifford wasn’t in the mood to tussle around twice in the same day. He couldn’t manage a smile. Instead he frowned. “I punched a constable in the face for trying to arrest me early this morning for being out just before curfew.” He casually said, as if he was speaking about the weather. Assault wasn’t a normal thing for him, but he wasn’t about to not protect himself. “So if I say run, I would recommend you, I don’t know, run.” Though he wasn’t sure what she could tell the constable, other than yes, he assaulted me too.
“And,” Cliff cleared his throat as he paused, eyebrows furrowing together. “If we meet beastie out there. We might die. So if you're okay with that, welcome aboard."
Happy then, that she hadn’t interrupted him while telling her his most intimate thoughts, Cliff frowned at the mention of her mother leaving her alone. He tried his hardest, put his best foot forward and gave every fiber of his being to ensure Meena and Heath were taken care of, even if he complained the entire time he did it. He’d been freshly eighteen when the farm and his siblings had been thrust in his lap, leaving him to flounder and drown while he figured his life out - it hadn’t helped that he knew every sickle he scraped together would go toward paying for his brother’s Hogwarts tuition the following year. It mattered to Clifford that both his siblings had the better shot at a life worth living than he did. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if they were afraid of him, like this woman seemed to be of her father.
His lips twitched into amusement. Were they bonding over how shitty their moms were? He wished he could feel a hint of sorrow, but it was nice, somewhat, to have someone who understood. “If I had a drink, I’d cheers to that.” Cliff laughed quietly. His thoughts didn’t go to his mother often, yet when they did he could only hope she hadn’t brought another child into this world. If she ever did come back, which he highly doubted because she hadn’t even sent an owl in five years, he’d have a few choice words for her. It was because of her that he’d set himself down a path of lying, cheating and stealing, and because of her he’d never be able to stop. It was refreshing, in an odd sense, that the stranger hadn’t immediately scoffed at him or told him there were other ways of getting things than stealing.
Clifford froze though, when she demanded it, his hands in the air. His eyes narrowed at her, assessing her; he still wasn’t certain she wasn’t a murderer. She didn’t look sweet or innocent, and hell, looked more than capable of killing someone. Her being a sadist worshiper of the beast hoping to find its next sacrifice was still on the table. “Yeah, well if you feel sorry for me, fuck off. I don’t need your pity.” He snapped harshly. This was why he never told anyone the truth - they looked at him differently when they’d realized how much he struggled to take care of his siblings. Clifford hated that look, much preferring the look of disgust when they heard he’d been caught stealing again. He didn’t bother to answer her other question, knowing full well that trapping her was beyond any magical capability he had, but he wasn’t about to offer up any form of weakness on a silver platter to anyone.
We? He cocked his eyebrow in confusion.
The woman summoned his wand and he turned toward her with his lips pressed into a thin line before huffing. He spun around toward the woods and stomped off toward them, briefly wondering how far he could get without his wand. Would beastie find him quickly? Or did he have a few hours? It surprised Clifford then, when he bent down next to a tree to root through some of the branches, his fingers curling around one that seemed long enough. He had to crack it a few times as it was still attached to the tree, and when it finally came loose he stumbled backward a bit, clutching it in his hands. He returned and offered to the woman before he bent down to scoop up the dog who was still trying to overcome his stupefy spell. Absent-mindedly, he stroked the dog between its ears.
Then, thinking of some of the manners someone had beat into him at some point in his life, Cliff placed the dog back on the ground and held his hand out to her. He’d pick the dog up if she decided to take his hand, although as he blinked at her, Cliff wasn’t entirely sure she would. He thought about flinging himself at her, trying for both wands, but Clifford wasn’t in the mood to tussle around twice in the same day. He couldn’t manage a smile. Instead he frowned. “I punched a constable in the face for trying to arrest me early this morning for being out just before curfew.” He casually said, as if he was speaking about the weather. Assault wasn’t a normal thing for him, but he wasn’t about to not protect himself. “So if I say run, I would recommend you, I don’t know, run.” Though he wasn’t sure what she could tell the constable, other than yes, he assaulted me too.
“And,” Cliff cleared his throat as he paused, eyebrows furrowing together. “If we meet beastie out there. We might die. So if you're okay with that, welcome aboard."
RE: With guns blazing - Ida Chang - July 20, 2022
“Well if you don’t want me feeling so sorry for you, maybe you shouldn’t drone on and on about what a sorry sap you are,” Ida snapped right back. Yet try as she might to prevent it, a small curl of a smile etched its way across her face. The ice queen was thawing? “Just to remind you, I have no way of knowing if any of what you said is true,” she pointed out. “Though if it is, all I mean to say is that I can understand your position. So I’ll try to help you, for my own reasons.” It honestly felt good to say exactly how she felt to a man, especially a complete stranger she never had to see again. Plus, she could never cuss like a sailor this way in polite society, which would proceed to consume the rest of her existence this summer and beyond.
“And finally,” she went on, this time her tone mere syllables from the warning of a cat’s hiss, “Don’t think of my empathy as weakness. Don’t you dare try to trick me. If you can agree to that, then I’ll do my best.”
When she said all this and he stomped off into the woods, Ida’s heart rate picked up a beat. Well, shit. Had she finally managed to scare him off? Was he gone forever? Would he actually leave behind his wand like this?
It was with some surprise that she saw him emerge just a few minutes later, actually holding the stick that she asked for. Ida stared suspiciously as he handed it to her and bent over Laozi. The walking stick was… bizarrely ideal, standing a good sturdy height, and he’d even broken off the sharp twigs jutting from it. The intruder was also… giving her hound a little scratch behind the ears. A little late, Ida finally clocked what happened. They’d forged an alliance.
The next second, this young man stood blinking before her, hand outstretched with a frown. This is as good a gesture of peace as any, Ida decided, returning his frown as she tucked both their wands into its little pocket in her right sleeve. She then used that hand to hold on firmly to the stick while she reached for his hand with the other, using his help to gingerly stand.
“Ah– shit!!” Ida was tough, but this felt pretty bad. A sharp, hot wave of pain from her right foot overcame her balance, causing her left hand to dart from the stranger’s palm to firmly grasp his shoulder. Through grit teeth and tears that brimmed her eyes, the former Ravenclaw honestly felt like trying to hex this bastard all over again. It didn’t help that he now confessed to an unfathomably stupid reason to get arrested and put on nearly every want ad from here to London. Assaulting a constable is a surefire way to get your face on everyone’s shitlist.
Ida huffed out a pained laugh at the idea of running in any situation like this. She decided to not remind him that only one of them is the convict here, and that she’d probably have more luck crying and acting dim. A girl in tears scares off a constable faster than anything.
“Gee, thanks captain,” she said instead, pain causing sarcasm to drip from her words. Once her sway stilled and the initial shock of pain was over, Ida more-or-less shoved the man away and continued to cling to her stick. “But speak for yourself. I have no intention of dying today.” …Of course, their odds would certainly be a lot better if she could walk around properly, but she wasn’t much good at healing work, and the manual to help with injuries like this was in her room back home. So were her books that would help her test out this escape theory. There was no way around this.
“Um, let’s go this way,” the witch decided, pointing vaguely in the direction of her home. “If we’re getting you out of here, I’m going to need a few things. Mind grabbing the dog?” She’d simply have to think up a plan while they walked there. Ida took a few test steps with her makeshift leg, and could already tell this was going to be a huge pain in the ass. They were probably… a mile away? At least it was plenty of time to mentally get her ducks in a row.
“And finally,” she went on, this time her tone mere syllables from the warning of a cat’s hiss, “Don’t think of my empathy as weakness. Don’t you dare try to trick me. If you can agree to that, then I’ll do my best.”
When she said all this and he stomped off into the woods, Ida’s heart rate picked up a beat. Well, shit. Had she finally managed to scare him off? Was he gone forever? Would he actually leave behind his wand like this?
It was with some surprise that she saw him emerge just a few minutes later, actually holding the stick that she asked for. Ida stared suspiciously as he handed it to her and bent over Laozi. The walking stick was… bizarrely ideal, standing a good sturdy height, and he’d even broken off the sharp twigs jutting from it. The intruder was also… giving her hound a little scratch behind the ears. A little late, Ida finally clocked what happened. They’d forged an alliance.
The next second, this young man stood blinking before her, hand outstretched with a frown. This is as good a gesture of peace as any, Ida decided, returning his frown as she tucked both their wands into its little pocket in her right sleeve. She then used that hand to hold on firmly to the stick while she reached for his hand with the other, using his help to gingerly stand.
“Ah– shit!!” Ida was tough, but this felt pretty bad. A sharp, hot wave of pain from her right foot overcame her balance, causing her left hand to dart from the stranger’s palm to firmly grasp his shoulder. Through grit teeth and tears that brimmed her eyes, the former Ravenclaw honestly felt like trying to hex this bastard all over again. It didn’t help that he now confessed to an unfathomably stupid reason to get arrested and put on nearly every want ad from here to London. Assaulting a constable is a surefire way to get your face on everyone’s shitlist.
Ida huffed out a pained laugh at the idea of running in any situation like this. She decided to not remind him that only one of them is the convict here, and that she’d probably have more luck crying and acting dim. A girl in tears scares off a constable faster than anything.
“Gee, thanks captain,” she said instead, pain causing sarcasm to drip from her words. Once her sway stilled and the initial shock of pain was over, Ida more-or-less shoved the man away and continued to cling to her stick. “But speak for yourself. I have no intention of dying today.” …Of course, their odds would certainly be a lot better if she could walk around properly, but she wasn’t much good at healing work, and the manual to help with injuries like this was in her room back home. So were her books that would help her test out this escape theory. There was no way around this.
“Um, let’s go this way,” the witch decided, pointing vaguely in the direction of her home. “If we’re getting you out of here, I’m going to need a few things. Mind grabbing the dog?” She’d simply have to think up a plan while they walked there. Ida took a few test steps with her makeshift leg, and could already tell this was going to be a huge pain in the ass. They were probably… a mile away? At least it was plenty of time to mentally get her ducks in a row.
RE: With guns blazing - Clifford Hillicker - July 20, 2022
Cliff bared his teeth, ready to throw a barrage of insults at her to hurt her feelings, to tear her down and make her feel no better than gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe until he saw the way her lips seemed to be curving into a smile. He hadn’t been teased - not in a friendly way - by someone outside of Algernon for a long while, and he couldn’t tell what angle she was going for. Was she trying to hurt his feelings? Or did she actually have some of friendliness she was trying to show? He bowed his head then, anger bubbling in his chest at himself. Anger was his coping mechanism; people tended to leave him alone and steer clear of him because they didn’t want to deal with it, and yet here she was, selfishly in her way trying to help him. Clifford knew all about that. He shrugged then, not wanting to once again admit aloud how much his siblings meant to him. If he kept putting it out in the universe something would happen, and he knew in his gut it wouldn’t be anything good - his karma wouldn’t allow that.
He nodded again as she hissed at him, trying to swallow a laugh down. It still bubbled out of him and he turned his gaze toward the sky. There were plenty of things Cliff wanted to say to this stranger, but he hardly knew her, didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her and if either one of them was going to screw the other over, it was going to be her screwing him. His eyebrows knitted together as he considered his options before he sighed loudly, finding he had no other options in this situation he’d gotten himself into him. “Fine. I won’t trick you.” The words came out flat and annoyed but he meant them; he just really wanted to go home, make sure his siblings hadn’t killed themselves and give Algae a reprieve from having him mooch off his kindness more. There was only so much he’d put up with before he kicked Cliff to the curb. Losing his friendship would mean losing the only friend he had in this world, which was something he wasn't quite ready to face.
And that was why stomped into the woods and returned with her stupid stick and offered his hand - he needed her. Surprise rippled across the brunette’s face as he took his hand with little fanfare. Most women wouldn’t take it because they thought he was dirty, and taking his hand or touching him in any form would make them dirty too. Damaged. Unmarriable. Marred. He'd heard it all. Dirt was always under his fingernails, but that came with being a farmer of sorts. He frowned as she cursed and settled her hand against his shoulder, before he stiffened with his hand hovering awkwardly in case he needed to grab her. Would she let him?
She didn’t reply either, to his assault which made him frown even more. As he was shoved away, Cliff took a step back from her before finally allowing a smile to tug at the edge of his lips. She was feisty, that much was sure, and he wouldn't have to be worried about dragging a damsel in distress into the woods. But then she was pointing to the house and hobbling along on the stick he’d found her while demanding he pick up the dog. He bent down to scoop it up, once again scratching the confused animal between the ears. When he cast a glance down at it he smiled. A dog was something he’d always wanted, but it was just another mouth to feed.
The girl’s words dragged his eyes to her, and Cliff was once again frowning. Her house? She really was a murderer wasn’t she? The witch was going to lock him in a room, kill him, chop him little bits and use that to in some weird ritual. Or, she was taking a page out of The String of Pearls and was going to kill him and use him in meat pies. Hell, she was probably the one who conjured beastie in the first place, during one of her eerie, murderous rituals! He may be the criminal of the two, but she was certainly the deranged one. Clifford though, wasn’t afraid of her, not in the way he might be if he wasn’t in sheer desperation to go home. Or rather, his self-preservation was still nonexistent as he shrugged and changed course toward the house.
He took a few steps as he eyed the probably-murderer from the corner of his eye, frowning as she seemed to hobble on the stick he’d given her. Falling from the horse had taken more out of her than he'd realized, although he wished he was sorry enough to form some type of apology. This was going to take forever and he hated the idea of a long, slow death march because she was hurt. Clearing his throat, Clifford turned his attention toward the dog nestled in his arms, who had begun to blink and shift a bit. “Do you… want a pig-a-back?” The words came out unobtrusively that even he wasn’t sure he’d said them. She was tall for a girl, but even he had a few solid inches on her.
Cliff stopped abruptly as he finally turned to face her; he could feel embarrassment flush across his face, but he kept talking as if he couldn’t feel the blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m not sure we’ll make it there by nightfall with your hobbling, and you can even keep your wand pointed at me if it’ll make ya feel safer.” If, and that was a giant if, she wasn’t going to kill him, he wanted to get home as quickly as possible.
He nodded again as she hissed at him, trying to swallow a laugh down. It still bubbled out of him and he turned his gaze toward the sky. There were plenty of things Cliff wanted to say to this stranger, but he hardly knew her, didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her and if either one of them was going to screw the other over, it was going to be her screwing him. His eyebrows knitted together as he considered his options before he sighed loudly, finding he had no other options in this situation he’d gotten himself into him. “Fine. I won’t trick you.” The words came out flat and annoyed but he meant them; he just really wanted to go home, make sure his siblings hadn’t killed themselves and give Algae a reprieve from having him mooch off his kindness more. There was only so much he’d put up with before he kicked Cliff to the curb. Losing his friendship would mean losing the only friend he had in this world, which was something he wasn't quite ready to face.
And that was why stomped into the woods and returned with her stupid stick and offered his hand - he needed her. Surprise rippled across the brunette’s face as he took his hand with little fanfare. Most women wouldn’t take it because they thought he was dirty, and taking his hand or touching him in any form would make them dirty too. Damaged. Unmarriable. Marred. He'd heard it all. Dirt was always under his fingernails, but that came with being a farmer of sorts. He frowned as she cursed and settled her hand against his shoulder, before he stiffened with his hand hovering awkwardly in case he needed to grab her. Would she let him?
She didn’t reply either, to his assault which made him frown even more. As he was shoved away, Cliff took a step back from her before finally allowing a smile to tug at the edge of his lips. She was feisty, that much was sure, and he wouldn't have to be worried about dragging a damsel in distress into the woods. But then she was pointing to the house and hobbling along on the stick he’d found her while demanding he pick up the dog. He bent down to scoop it up, once again scratching the confused animal between the ears. When he cast a glance down at it he smiled. A dog was something he’d always wanted, but it was just another mouth to feed.
The girl’s words dragged his eyes to her, and Cliff was once again frowning. Her house? She really was a murderer wasn’t she? The witch was going to lock him in a room, kill him, chop him little bits and use that to in some weird ritual. Or, she was taking a page out of The String of Pearls and was going to kill him and use him in meat pies. Hell, she was probably the one who conjured beastie in the first place, during one of her eerie, murderous rituals! He may be the criminal of the two, but she was certainly the deranged one. Clifford though, wasn’t afraid of her, not in the way he might be if he wasn’t in sheer desperation to go home. Or rather, his self-preservation was still nonexistent as he shrugged and changed course toward the house.
He took a few steps as he eyed the probably-murderer from the corner of his eye, frowning as she seemed to hobble on the stick he’d given her. Falling from the horse had taken more out of her than he'd realized, although he wished he was sorry enough to form some type of apology. This was going to take forever and he hated the idea of a long, slow death march because she was hurt. Clearing his throat, Clifford turned his attention toward the dog nestled in his arms, who had begun to blink and shift a bit. “Do you… want a pig-a-back?” The words came out unobtrusively that even he wasn’t sure he’d said them. She was tall for a girl, but even he had a few solid inches on her.
Cliff stopped abruptly as he finally turned to face her; he could feel embarrassment flush across his face, but he kept talking as if he couldn’t feel the blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m not sure we’ll make it there by nightfall with your hobbling, and you can even keep your wand pointed at me if it’ll make ya feel safer.” If, and that was a giant if, she wasn’t going to kill him, he wanted to get home as quickly as possible.
RE: With guns blazing - Ida Chang - July 21, 2022
Satisfied that they’d both outlined all the terms of their little agreement, Ida forged ahead (or at least tried to, for an admirable 500 feet). Even these few paces utterly exhausted her. Connie walked alongside them with a pretend limp in one of his paws. A show of solidarity, she guessed, but the dog soured her expression nonetheless. Damn it! It didn’t seem like she could put any weight the bad foot at all. What’s worse, the pain made her brain foggy, because she couldn’t wrack up a single stupid charm or something to help.
The young woman paused for a rest, bowing her forehead against the stick to consider her options. As the man came up beside her, her shoulders stiffened - more or less preparing to get berated for going so slow. Honestly a slap in the face would have been less shocking than what she heard instead. Ida looked at him with confusion usually reserved for the most complex mathematical equations. He was offering to take her pig-a-back? “As in… the way we carry around kids…?” She clarified carefully, wanting to be certain she heard right. Judging from the shade of scarlet he was turning, though, she had heard him right.
Ida willed every ounce of her being to not laugh from the ridiculousness of their situation. Oh my god. What a sight this would be, just two steps away from both of them joining a bloody circus! Though the more she thought about it, the more she hated to admit that he was sort of right. Their pace was not sustainable, and at the very least, she might be able to think about other options more clearly if relieved from the exertion.
Still, she honestly couldn’t bring herself to answer him yet, and instead looked at him impassively for a moment before turning her attention to Laozi in his arms. This stupid dog. It was being cradled like a baby, tongue lolling out as he gazed adoringly up to the man holding him. He’s the reason you got hurt, you idiot, she wanted to remind the dog (and herself), though she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Instead, she reached out to give the dog a good bellyrub, which sent him squirming wildly with delight. Neglected Connie whimpered a bit from jealousy at their ankles.
“I guess you can put him down,” Ida finally relented, “He seems… sort of recovered?” The dog could go as slow as he needed to, at any rate. His nose would eventually bring him up to speed with them. This was a good excuse to stall, because Ida still felt incredibly conflicted. The issue wasn’t that she didn’t trust this man – she didn’t, but she could probably choke or hex him if she had to. The real issue was that she needed help, and he proactively made an offer to give it, a fact that both alarmed and bewildered her. This conflicted with the information she’d been gathering about him so far. Was he messing around with her? Planned to drop her and break her other foot? He did say no tricks, but what’s a criminal’s word really worth?
Ida finally turned her gaze up to this stranger with a look of firm resolve that stitched her eyebrows together and drew her lips into a frown. “...Okay. Just for some of the way, I suppose it would help. Maybe we’ll find my horse or something.” Doubtful - it was probably all the way back at its stable munching on some hay by now - but a girl could hope. “Don’t try anything stupid,” she added for good measure, narrowing her eyes at him.
Tentatively then, the former Ravenclaw moved to step up onto a fallen log as a makeshift raised platform. “What’s your name, anyway?” she asked, deciding now was a good a time as any for proper introductions.
The young woman paused for a rest, bowing her forehead against the stick to consider her options. As the man came up beside her, her shoulders stiffened - more or less preparing to get berated for going so slow. Honestly a slap in the face would have been less shocking than what she heard instead. Ida looked at him with confusion usually reserved for the most complex mathematical equations. He was offering to take her pig-a-back? “As in… the way we carry around kids…?” She clarified carefully, wanting to be certain she heard right. Judging from the shade of scarlet he was turning, though, she had heard him right.
Ida willed every ounce of her being to not laugh from the ridiculousness of their situation. Oh my god. What a sight this would be, just two steps away from both of them joining a bloody circus! Though the more she thought about it, the more she hated to admit that he was sort of right. Their pace was not sustainable, and at the very least, she might be able to think about other options more clearly if relieved from the exertion.
Still, she honestly couldn’t bring herself to answer him yet, and instead looked at him impassively for a moment before turning her attention to Laozi in his arms. This stupid dog. It was being cradled like a baby, tongue lolling out as he gazed adoringly up to the man holding him. He’s the reason you got hurt, you idiot, she wanted to remind the dog (and herself), though she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Instead, she reached out to give the dog a good bellyrub, which sent him squirming wildly with delight. Neglected Connie whimpered a bit from jealousy at their ankles.
“I guess you can put him down,” Ida finally relented, “He seems… sort of recovered?” The dog could go as slow as he needed to, at any rate. His nose would eventually bring him up to speed with them. This was a good excuse to stall, because Ida still felt incredibly conflicted. The issue wasn’t that she didn’t trust this man – she didn’t, but she could probably choke or hex him if she had to. The real issue was that she needed help, and he proactively made an offer to give it, a fact that both alarmed and bewildered her. This conflicted with the information she’d been gathering about him so far. Was he messing around with her? Planned to drop her and break her other foot? He did say no tricks, but what’s a criminal’s word really worth?
Ida finally turned her gaze up to this stranger with a look of firm resolve that stitched her eyebrows together and drew her lips into a frown. “...Okay. Just for some of the way, I suppose it would help. Maybe we’ll find my horse or something.” Doubtful - it was probably all the way back at its stable munching on some hay by now - but a girl could hope. “Don’t try anything stupid,” she added for good measure, narrowing her eyes at him.
Tentatively then, the former Ravenclaw moved to step up onto a fallen log as a makeshift raised platform. “What’s your name, anyway?” she asked, deciding now was a good a time as any for proper introductions.
RE: With guns blazing - Clifford Hillicker - July 22, 2022
He wasn’t quite sure why he was being so nice to her. She, after all, had been the one to threaten him first, and if he was as mean as everyone said he was, Cliff would have knocked the stick from her hand and disappeared into the woods, wand be damned. Instead he was trying to rid himself of her. Perhaps she’d be willing to give him his wand back so he could be on his way; the probably-murderer was just going to slow him down. He didn’t need her help necessarily, but she had already made a good point about where the weakness in the barrier might be - someone who lived in Irvingly was surely going to know more about it than someone who just visited. If he could get his wand back, he’d take this new information and force Algernon out to investigate with him. (The poor kid was probably angry at him for slipping out the door early this morning without saying goodbye to him.)
Shuffling his feet at her question, Cliff tossed her a confused look; he hadn’t mumbled yet she was tossing him a look as if he’d grown a second head. A frown settled across his lips as his eyebrows knitted together. “My sister says I give the best pig-a-backs around.” He deadpanned, as if it was the most honest thing he’d said to her yet. Her favorite was when he’d take her around on a broom, where she’d cling to his back like a koala and squeal with delight, egging him on to go faster and faster until the forest around them was a blur; it wasn’t the safest thing in the world but neither of them had died yet.
Silence settled around them and Cliff shrugged. At least she hadn’t laughed at his suggestion or mocked him - he hated it when people laughed in his face, especially at his not-so-bright ideas. The stranger reached out to scratch at the dog’s belly, who then squirmed in his arms. He tightened his grip on him and pulled him closer to his chest before gently tapping his nose. His eyes shifted toward her as she finally seemed to give in to his idea, causing him to scratch the dog behind his ears for a few more seconds. Before he bent down to gently put him on his feet, Cliff nuzzled his face into his fur and murmured an apology for hitting him with a spell - he’d only been protecting himself and it wasn’t personal.
Clifford set the dog down before he moved to stand in front of the woman as she stepped onto a log, ignoring her words of finding the horse or doing anything stupid. His own eyes narrowed to match her own, his lips pursing together in a thin line. He’d already said he wouldn’t, although now, as he slightly bent down for her to crawl onto his back, he wished he would have made her promise not to murder him. Turning his attention back toward their citation, Cliff hitched his arms under her legs to give her support once he felt her weight against his back. She was much heavier - and taller - than his eight year old sister, but he managed to straighten his back and take a few steps without any issue.
“Clifford Hillicker.” He waited for the undoubtedly snort that would sound from her. People always laughed at the ridiculous nature of his name, and it didn’t help if they knew Heathcliff was his brother - mum sure did have an agenda when she was naming them. It was a true shame she didn’t go all the way by naming his little sister Hillary. While he hadn’t been readily willing to give her his name - now she could tell the constable where he’d been or at least smirk that he was her victim when she saw his name in the paper when they discovered his murdered body in the woods - even he wasn’t daft enough to lie about it. He’d done that a few times and it never went over well.
Cliff tilted his head. “And your name?” He hummed. There were quite a few he could call her, but none of them seemed outwardly appropriate.
Shuffling his feet at her question, Cliff tossed her a confused look; he hadn’t mumbled yet she was tossing him a look as if he’d grown a second head. A frown settled across his lips as his eyebrows knitted together. “My sister says I give the best pig-a-backs around.” He deadpanned, as if it was the most honest thing he’d said to her yet. Her favorite was when he’d take her around on a broom, where she’d cling to his back like a koala and squeal with delight, egging him on to go faster and faster until the forest around them was a blur; it wasn’t the safest thing in the world but neither of them had died yet.
Silence settled around them and Cliff shrugged. At least she hadn’t laughed at his suggestion or mocked him - he hated it when people laughed in his face, especially at his not-so-bright ideas. The stranger reached out to scratch at the dog’s belly, who then squirmed in his arms. He tightened his grip on him and pulled him closer to his chest before gently tapping his nose. His eyes shifted toward her as she finally seemed to give in to his idea, causing him to scratch the dog behind his ears for a few more seconds. Before he bent down to gently put him on his feet, Cliff nuzzled his face into his fur and murmured an apology for hitting him with a spell - he’d only been protecting himself and it wasn’t personal.
Clifford set the dog down before he moved to stand in front of the woman as she stepped onto a log, ignoring her words of finding the horse or doing anything stupid. His own eyes narrowed to match her own, his lips pursing together in a thin line. He’d already said he wouldn’t, although now, as he slightly bent down for her to crawl onto his back, he wished he would have made her promise not to murder him. Turning his attention back toward their citation, Cliff hitched his arms under her legs to give her support once he felt her weight against his back. She was much heavier - and taller - than his eight year old sister, but he managed to straighten his back and take a few steps without any issue.
“Clifford Hillicker.” He waited for the undoubtedly snort that would sound from her. People always laughed at the ridiculous nature of his name, and it didn’t help if they knew Heathcliff was his brother - mum sure did have an agenda when she was naming them. It was a true shame she didn’t go all the way by naming his little sister Hillary. While he hadn’t been readily willing to give her his name - now she could tell the constable where he’d been or at least smirk that he was her victim when she saw his name in the paper when they discovered his murdered body in the woods - even he wasn’t daft enough to lie about it. He’d done that a few times and it never went over well.
Cliff tilted his head. “And your name?” He hummed. There were quite a few he could call her, but none of them seemed outwardly appropriate.