please allow me to introduce myself

[nexmosnonlucror]

Characters: Tom Riddle [nexmosnonlucror], Raphael [expunger], Lucifer [outsidewindows], and Severus Snape [snarkypotions]
When: Sunday, December 11.
Where: A street in the city.
Rating: R for violence.
Summary: Tom stole something precious to the angels. The angels have come to get it back. It's too bad Tom isn't planning on going down without a vicious fight.

Comments

VS LUCIFER.

[nexmosnonlucror]

Tom was silent as he stared down at Raphael, lowering his wand with a quiet gasp of breath. He was tired -- and that had taken more out of him than expected -- but he was alive.

And she was dead.

Good riddance. Filthy thing.

[abrotherlikeyou]

It had been the sudden blow that alerted Lucifer to Tom's presence. If he hadn't tried to kill Raphael, the little cockroach might have gone on hiding under the fridge for another week. Lucifer came the second he felt it, and by then Raphael was already gone. He could feel her Grace, pulsing as weak as a sparrow's heart, but she was still alive.

And so was Tom.

Lucifer walked very calmly toward him, never mind the odd shatter of glass when he passed the rare in-tact (or semi-in-tact) window. "Tom. We have a date. You weren't thinking of running again, were you?"

[nexmosnonlucror]

Gone was the mask that Tom wore for the public. His eyes were cold, dark, and lifeless -- his posture was straight, perfect, and he stared down upon the ground, the ashen wing-prints spread across the snow.

It was almost beautiful, if Tom appreciated such a thing.

To him, it only symbolized the failure of death.

"Don't be foolish," Tom said softly, his wand in hand, not moving a muscle. "If I were intending on running, I would already be gone."

[abrotherlikeyou]

The Grace was safe, wherever it had gone. That was what Lucifer let his mind focus on, because far be it from him to show any other reaction. Even with his sister's ashes before him.

The pulse had to be Castiel, then. His Grace.

Lucifer straightened, and held out his arms briefly in a mocking, welcoming gesture. "Well, good."

And something sharp and invisible hooked like a fishing spear behind Tom's jaw and yanked him forward.

[nexmosnonlucror]

The moment Tom felt that energy -- that uncomfortable pulse -- and then the sharp pain of being dragged forward, but Tom did not cry out loud.

This pain was nothing compared to tearing his soul in half and shoving it into another vessel. This pain was manageable. And so, instead of giving in, Tom immediately swept his wand arm upward, a sudden explosion being cast with a silent command within Tom's mind:

Bombarda.

And then Tom swept his free hand in front of him, his fingers curling around an invisible spot in the air, as he narrowed his eyes. An immeasurable force of magic pushed forward with a slight flick of his wrist, and another silent command rang loud and clear within the mind of the wizard.

Protego.

A wall of magic, to protect the caster. And then, Tom immediately thrust his wand forward, and this spell, he said out loud, with a quiet hiss:

"Crucio."

[abrotherlikeyou]

The Curse came as a split-second of beautiful luminescence. It hit Lucifer squarely in the chest, but he didn't flinch, didn't even look down to watch its light vanish. He strode forward until he was flush with the Charm wall, and he ran a finger over it, as if searching for a seam.

He stopped directly in front of Tom, looked at him a second, and then slammed his fist against the magic. Any lesser wizard, any lesser mortal wouldn't have been able to set up a wall this sturdy. Lucifer felt a dim sense of...not admiration, but surprise. He'd faced gods and other angels less powerful than Tom Riddle. Such talents were wasted on an arrogant little ape.

Another blow, this time with Grace behind it, and it was like squeezing through latex--like clawing through a balloon.

[nexmosnonlucror]

A worthy adversary, much like Morgana -- and there was the tiniest flash of appreciation in the bottom of his chest, but he had no time to contemplate it, as Lucifer was clawing through his dense shield of magic, and he had little time to ponder the mysteries of admiration.

There was a low hum in the back of his throat as Tom vanished -- pushed backwards by a Banishment charm, uttered silently within his mind, but the shield remained in place, though it was bending underneath the power of Grace. His coat fluttered as Tom allowed his magic to envelop him, his eyes fixated on the Devil as he, for the first real time in Adstringendum, allowed his magic to go.

Control was the first thing he had learned, at the school. Control of himself, control of his magic, because magic unleashed without a firm hand was dangerous. That was what Dumbledore had taught him -- idiot. Why put a leash on something so wonderfulThe moment Lucifer's hand shoved through the shield, it cracked, splintering at the seams, but Tom was ready -- and, without a

[abrotherlikeyou]

But this, too, seemed to have no effect. Lucifer withdrew his hand from the ruined protection shell, and looked at Tom, head tilted in a way that actually made him resemble Castiel.

"You warned me about what, Tom? This?"

The reality was very different from the show he was putting on, though. The magic was incapable of hurting him worse, but it sank into portions of his Grace that weren't yet ruined and tarnished them. It stoked Hellfire embers in Lucifer had been controlling for years.

His Grace rushed to heal it, and Hellfire made it worse, spreading it little by little. And in his mind it began to erode restraints he'd built up centuries ago.

No word, no gesture. He sought out Tom's fractured soul and yanked on its bonds with the boy's body, wanting nothing more than to put his hand into his chest and rip out his heart.

[nexmosnonlucror]

Fracturing one's soul was a unique experience -- one that should never be attempted, or so that had been what Professor Slughorn had told Tom. He hadn't listened, of course -- but Tom felt the effects of what he had done every day. His soul was unstable, held on by simple threads, and when Lucifer reached inside his being and grabbed it -- Tom felt it.

There was a snarl as the blood from his already pale cheeks vanished and Tom stumbled backward, his free hand pressed against his chest as he ground his teeth together, refusing to scream in pain. He had endured when he had forged the first Horcrux -- he would endure now.

"How uncreative," Tom gasped before he lashed forward with his wand again, delivering another blow of deep purple energy toward Lucifer's Grace, before thrusting forward with his free hand, to cast another Protego, in an effort to get Lucifer to let go of his soul.

[abrotherlikeyou]

Lucifer was on him though, the effects of the Curse from earlier whisking away control. He tore through the second Protego--still not easy but it was the difference between lifting a car with adrenaline or without. And then he grabbed Tom by the throat and slammed him head-first onto the ground to stun him.

[nexmosnonlucror]

The catching him by the throat was a surprise -- and as Tom slammed into the ground, something cracked. Probably a rib, the wizard thought dazedly, but he pushed it aside as he shoved his free hand forward to slam into Lucifer's chest, snarling the old Latin underneath his breath as he twisted Lucifer's angelic form with an invisible fist, his wand hand coming up to send a series of spells to slash at Lucifer's vessel, creating large gashes.

Attacking on both levels.

[abrotherlikeyou]

The wounds to the vessel were easy to ignore. He barely felt those and hardly cared about them no matter how deep they went. But the touch to his Grace caught his attention--it stunned him for a few seconds.

And then he reversed the hold, like unleashing the metaphysical equivalent of white phosphorous onto Tom's soul via that link. Touching Lucifer's Grace was never a good idea, even for other angels; it literally melted and ate away at anything it touched, including vessels.

[nexmosnonlucror]

Tom snarled Latin and twisted viciously underneath Lucifer's grasp, the sheer pain and agony of his soul being manipulated in such a way causing the very edges of his vision to go black -- but the wizard refused to give up. He refused to bend over and die. Dying was for weaklings, for failures, not for a being such as himself -- and Tom, instead of sobbing in pain, began to laugh.

"Pain is pain, Lucifer," Tom gasped as he continued to shred at the portions of Lucifer's Grace that his magic could reach, vicious, unforgiving, beyond control and sense and reason. "You can feel it as well as I do, you can't rip what is already tattered."

And, with that last choked word, Tom slammed another burst of Dark magic into Lucifer's being, his wand slashing and cutting and burning as hard and fast as he could.

[abrotherlikeyou]

"Don't I know it. Why are you fondling my Grace?" There is absolutely nothing new that Tom can do to that, or to Lucifer's being.

The Dark magic this time glows and absorbs. The only sign it does anything at all is the twisted expression just before Lucifer lets loose on Tom, beating him so hard bones would be like jelly against the blows, organs worthless.

He telepathically severs Tom's lungs, and reaches up, fingers pushing up at his eyelid and then diving in abruptly. He grips Tom's eyeball like a plum, and yanks hard, reinstating the lungs just so he can hear Tom.