Ring around the roses, a pocket full of posies (Complete)
WHO: Belladonna & Rangiku
WHERE: Charms classroom
WHEN: Before the Great Hall/Library/Hallways threads
WHAT: Playercest, violence, Rangiku being taken out of commission for this event.
We are talking harsh violence. I talked to mods about this first, so it is done with permission, and only out of necessity for this event to not kill me.
It had been a sudden delight, on atop another, realising all the dreams that could come true. Even as she took the Charms professor by surprise, wrenched her wand from her hands before she could strike and slammed her head against a wall, she could still scarce believe the reality of it. The joy of it. As the whore breathed light, feeble breaths, it was like a chorus of brightest song.
Belladonna sighed contentedly, and inspected the wand. Mmm. Fairy hair, willow. She chuckled. "Even your wand lacks strength," she whispered, savoring the feel of it in her hand. Cool. Her body held Rangiku flush against the wall, though it really didn't take much, the blonde wretch clearly suffering the aftermath of the blow to the head. A wordless murmur escaped those temptress lips, and Belladonna wanted nothing more than to stop it, crush the air out of that pretty neck. Her fingers had almost wrapped around it unbidden, spidering up and ready to strike-- but she held herself back. Not enough to save her from bruising. There would be marks enough.
Oh, yes, the whore deserves a muggle's demise. Violent, free of any magic. Just as the rest of her life should have been. Just as the rest of her life would be. "We'll see all that you should have never had taken back," she murmured. "Ashes, wood and fairy lock. Stolen magic, in your blood."
Belladonna drew back her hand. Drew back, smiled and plunged it back, delighting in the sudden, conscious pain that ripped across the whores face as wood pieced skin and flesh, hot blood covering her hand, pain ringing in her ears.
"That, my sweet. That is what you get for taking that which is not yours." She turned, paying no mind as Rangiku slid down the wall to slump on the floor, paying no mind to the polished, pale wood still lodged in the woman's abdomen.
"I'll look forward to Ashelia's thanks," the Widow said with a smile, closing the door to the classroom behind her, and heading down the hallway.
What a fine day it would be.
WHERE: Charms classroom
WHEN: Before the Great Hall/Library/Hallways threads
WHAT: Playercest, violence, Rangiku being taken out of commission for this event.
We are talking harsh violence. I talked to mods about this first, so it is done with permission, and only out of necessity for this event to not kill me.
It had been a sudden delight, on atop another, realising all the dreams that could come true. Even as she took the Charms professor by surprise, wrenched her wand from her hands before she could strike and slammed her head against a wall, she could still scarce believe the reality of it. The joy of it. As the whore breathed light, feeble breaths, it was like a chorus of brightest song.
Belladonna sighed contentedly, and inspected the wand. Mmm. Fairy hair, willow. She chuckled. "Even your wand lacks strength," she whispered, savoring the feel of it in her hand. Cool. Her body held Rangiku flush against the wall, though it really didn't take much, the blonde wretch clearly suffering the aftermath of the blow to the head. A wordless murmur escaped those temptress lips, and Belladonna wanted nothing more than to stop it, crush the air out of that pretty neck. Her fingers had almost wrapped around it unbidden, spidering up and ready to strike-- but she held herself back. Not enough to save her from bruising. There would be marks enough.
Oh, yes, the whore deserves a muggle's demise. Violent, free of any magic. Just as the rest of her life should have been. Just as the rest of her life would be. "We'll see all that you should have never had taken back," she murmured. "Ashes, wood and fairy lock. Stolen magic, in your blood."
Belladonna drew back her hand. Drew back, smiled and plunged it back, delighting in the sudden, conscious pain that ripped across the whores face as wood pieced skin and flesh, hot blood covering her hand, pain ringing in her ears.
"That, my sweet. That is what you get for taking that which is not yours." She turned, paying no mind as Rangiku slid down the wall to slump on the floor, paying no mind to the polished, pale wood still lodged in the woman's abdomen.
"I'll look forward to Ashelia's thanks," the Widow said with a smile, closing the door to the classroom behind her, and heading down the hallway.
What a fine day it would be.