PR: The Present From Hell... Literally
Date: 14 February 2005, late morning (backdated due to computer demons)
Character(s): Julian, his forge, and another new addition to the family.
Location: The Forge, at Bronze and E
Status: Private hell
Summary: Some people get chocolate hearts on Valentine's Day. Julian gets heart burn.
Completion: Complete... ly unbelievable.
When Julian finally awoke, the first sensation to come to him - well, outside of the throbbing headache, the burning throat, and the general feeling that dementors had chased him for three days straight - was the sound of a fire gently hissing by his ear. It was rather soothing, and he attempted to roll over towards it. That was when those other sensations came to his full awareness. With a croaky groan, he opened his eyes.
Only to find himself faced with a glowing snake.
It's interesting, the things adrenaline will allow you to do that you thought otherwise impossible.
His throat lent itself well enough to a hearty shout, and Julian did his best to roll away from the serpent. For its part, the snake looked just as alarmed and reared back with a startled hiss, before crumbling into a pile of ash. An ashwinder. Which meant...
He felt on the verge of another swoon, but had just enough adrenaline left to pull himself up to lean heavily onto a work table. Glancing to the forge, he found a most wondrous sight. A fire, bright and clean-burning. It was obviously magical in nature. One could feel it in the tingle its heat left upon the skin. You could see it in the way the individual flames danced around each other, and how the embers twirled intricate patterns in the air. Julian could also smell the brimstone wafting from it. He stared, utterly amazed. The ritual had worked, despite that flair up and the untimely closing.
There was, however, a niggle in the back of Julian's mind. Something was not quite right. He stared at the fire, willing the pounding in his head to lessen. Just when he thought he might grasp that vague impression, a squeak, then a couple more, broke his concentration and caused his head to throb again.
"Master Avery should not be up and about! Please, good Master, lay back down!"
Before he could protest, Julian found three house elves hovering about him anxiously. He rolled his eyes, then winced at the resulting pain. "Handy... I'm quite fine, thank you. Just a bit light-headed is all." Bringing his hand up to massage a temple, he froze upon noticing his sleeve stiff with dried blood. Of course, the sectumsempra, but then... Pushing back the material, he saw his palm was healed save for the faintest of scars.
"We elves heard the noise and came right away," the elf named Handy explained. "We found Master collapsed, and took care of him."
Julian cocked a brow. It was an impressive patch up job. "You used dittany?" The elf nodded, then commanded the other two to 'fetch things'. As they disappeared, Julian quizzed Handy about the state of the forge. Toyler was the first one back, handing him Dragon's Breath as the other elf explained that everything was in good working order. That assessment seemed incorrect somehow, but the reason remained elusive. Julian found his eyes stealing back to the fire when the third elf, Thiefrow, appeared with two vials. At his enquiring look, the elf elaborated, "They is potions leftover from Mister Lockhart's illness, Sir. Invigoration potion and blood-replenishing potion, they is. Hardy Master has lost much blood."
Well, he certainly felt drained, of a lot of things actually. He was familiar with the sensation of magical depletion, as the Dark Loon didn't particularly care what it took to accomplish a task, so long as His minions did His bidding. Nodding his compliance, Julian tipped back each potion, grimacing at the aftertaste but generally starting to feel better. Risking a charm for headache relief, clarity began returning to him. It was in that moment that he noticed a... lack of something else.
It was hard to describe. The best he could manage was to say he felt a strange sense of... alleviation. It was as though some burden had been lifted, and his mind was left with room to focus. Likewise, his heart felt a bit... freer. This wasn't Peace - such as he'd ever experienced, anyway - but it was definitely... cathartic.
Julian thought back to those final moments, before closing the hellmouth. Perhaps that had been another form of purification.
It was also at that moment he finally realised what was so off about everything. The hellmouth had been closed prematurely. How in... well, Hell, was the fire maintaining itself?
"Handy, has there been anyone - or anything - in here besides you three and myself?"
"No, Master Avery, not since the summoning."
"It wasn't a sum- wait, what?" Suddenly, he felt his pulse begin to quicken. And double, literally.
Oh shit.
It was as though someone had thrown a timeturner in mud, gradually miring its rings. As the elf began explaining, Julian turned back towards the forge, feeling that second pulse rising along with a dawning comprehension. "No-one else has been here but Master," he watched, transfixed with horror, as the fire began swelling, "we house elves," the flames shot upwards, creating a wall of angry heat, "and your fire demon." There was a shift within the mass, flames situating themselves into what might be construed as a face. Then 'his demon' roared.
Why did things always get so complicated?
Over the guttural din, Julian shouted, "Why in Jove's name didn't you say something? Or do something! This isn't mine."
"RIGHT YOU ARE, FOOLISH MORTAL!" The roar had suddenly morphed into a booming voice. "HOW DARE YOU PRESUME TO CAPTURE ONE SO HIGH AND MIGHTY AS MYSELF!"
For a second, Julian stood frozen. Somewhere behind him, Handy mutter, "We saw that Master had woven a cage. We thought Master wanted to keep it." Keep it? This was one sick idea for a pet.
"KEEP? I AM NOT A PET FOR YOUR AMUSEMENT, FOOLISH MORTAL!"
'Fido' had an uncanny knack for reading minds. Julian was again made aware of that second heartbeat, drumming through his veins as strongly as his own. Oh bloody, bloody, bloody Hell. Uncertain how to approach this nightmare, he fell back on the usual tactics. Bullshitting his way out of things.
"Fire Master, there's been a mistake! My intention wasn't to capture you! I had merely created a hellmouth, in the hopes of collecting some of Hades' Infernal Light." All too easily, Julian dropped to his knees and bowed close to the ground. He kept expecting to hear "Crucio" uttered in a high, thin voice. After all, three months - or three years - was hardly a blink of the eye to Pure Evil.
"FIRE MAS... uh, YES, DAMN RIGHT THERE'S BEEN A MISTAKE! FOOLISH MORTAL!" There was a brief pause, then the demon bellowed quickly, "WHY, THE VERY NOTION OF SUCH A FEAT IS RIDICULOUS! COMPLETELY, RIDICULOUS! A THOUSAND TORMENTS I SHALL VISIT UPON YOU FOR YOUR AUDACITY! I WILL MAKE YOU BLEED! I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER!" There was another pause. "FOOLISH MORTAL!" Julian could feel eyes - magical or otherwise - upon his genuflecting form. "I WILL START BY, SETTING FIRE TO YOUR HAIR! WHILE YOU ARE BOUND, HELPLESS TO PUT IT OUT! I WILL KEEP THE FLAME GOING, LONG AFTER EVERY HAIR IS GONE! YOU'LL GIVE YUL BRYNNER A RUN FOR HIS DOME! AND THOSE DAMN FRUITY EARRINGS WILL MELT YOUR EARS OFF! AND THEN I'LL STICK YOU ON A SPIT AND ROAST YOU LIKE THE FLAMBOYANT MARSHMALLOW YOU ARE! BUT NOT BEFORE I USE YOUR BLOOD FOR CHOCOLATE SAUCE AND YOUR BONES AS GRAHAM CRACKERS!" He thought he heard a noise that sounded like... lip-smacking. "HA! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO SPEND ALL OF ETERNITY AS A CAMPFIRE MORSEL? FOOLISH MORTAL!" The demon then collapsed into celebratory cackling that sounded less like mad laughter and more like... smug snickering.
Well, Julian hadn't a damn clue as to who Graham was and what was so special about his crackers, but he'd spent the better part of two wars groveling before over-inflated gas bags of one sort or another. He knew when one had the bollocks, or the power, to back up their claims. The chief source of what intimidation he did feel was attributed more to the assault on logic and dignity than a threat to his person. Slowly, he stood and glanced up at the entity, which if human would likely be pissing itself with laughter right now. Julian simply watched, arms folded, until it finally noticed.
"OH... ENOUGH GAMES NOW, FOOLISH MORTAL! RELEASE ME, AND PERHAPS I'LL LET YOU KEEP YOUR HAIR!"
A small, knowing smirk came to Julian's face. "No."
"I MAY EVEN - err, what?"
"I said no."
"AND I SAID RELEASE ME, FOOLISH MORTAL! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE! I AM YOUR FIRE-Y MASTER AND I COMMAND YOU!"
"No, you're not. And no, I won't. If you were a Fire Master, you could break free on your own. In fact, I would have already been 'roasted'. Instead, you've not even attempted to break through the wards. Oh, I'm sure you tested them earlier, but since you're still here, it's painfully obvious you lack any real power against them." His smirk grew into something quite smug in its own right, and he concluded in almost a whisper, "That makes you less a master, and more a servant."
The beast had clearly heard him. "Oh shh- SUCH INSOLENCE! HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME IN SUCH A MANNER, FOOL-"
"Oh, do shut up already," Julian groaned in annoyance. His headache was threatening to come back.
The abrupt silence that followed was enough to shock him out of his mood, however.
Eyes snapped to the demon's... face. It looked as though it wanted to respond, but there was a will outside of its own guiding its actions. Well, it was good to know all that bleeding hadn't been for naught. This demon was susceptible not only to the wards and the runes - as it hadn't escaped by reopening the hellmouth - but it was prone to blood bonds as well. As he'd stated, this creature was low in the pecking order. As flattering as it would be to think he had power and will sufficient to bind a major elemental demon, Julian hadn't ego enough for such delusions. After all, he wasn't the Dark Lord, or Gilderoy.
Still, it was rather brilliant to know he had a demon beholden to him.
Julian noticed that the pulse within was fluctuating in intensity, however, indicating that his hold over the demon wasn't complete. Likely, the bond would be something he could pull on for all but the primal urges. Survival - including the need for escape - would be an impulse hard to squash.
At least, in the beginning.
He was no fool about this, though. Julian was aware that he was... well, playing with fire. This, however, was an opportunity he could neither refuse nor ignore. It took little guessing as to what would happen if he released the demon. Regardless of its station, they all were driven by the same motivations, chaos and destruction. Things Julian desperately wished to cut out of his life now.
Besides, he had no ambition to be any sort of morsel.
His plans were still salvageable, if he proceeded carefully. He simply needed time to rethink his strategies. Besides, he wasn't in a position to do more at the moment anyway. The potions hadn't cured him, just given him a boost to sustain him a bit longer. The adrenaline from this latest shock had run its course now, too. Julian would be surprised if he could command a puppy, much less a partially-bound fire demon.
And speaking of unwieldy puppies... He should have been home hours ago. It was amazing Gilderoy hadn't sought him out by now. Paranoid as always, he recalled that there were still three house elves behind him and asked, "Thiefrow, am I correct in assuming you went to my building to procure those potions?"
"... Yes, Master Avery, Thiefrow did."
"Did you see Gilderoy there, by chance?"
"No, Sir, Thiefrow did not. Thiefrow thinks Mister Gilderoy has already left for work. There is smells in the kitchen like breakfast, and an empty box of chocolates in the bedroom bin."
Julian smirked, figuring that was probably his punishment for not coming home. Well, he would just have to make it up to the man with another tasty treat... later. Currently, he wasn't sure if he could walk the distance or even apparate. He did know, however, that he needed to find his Goldleaf.
A suspicious crackle came from the forge. Glancing over, he caught a sort of eye roll from the fire demon.
Well, that settled his plans, then.
"The three of you, I put you in charge of a new task. Starting today, your duties will include making sure our guest," the fire squinted at him and kicked up a few embers, "stays in the comfy little spot we've made for it." He couldn't help a nasty little sneer. It didn't last long, however, as he continued. "Handy, I'll leave it in your capable hands to organise the work shifts. But first... I'm going to need your assistance."
Julian sighed bitterly, but thankfully Handy required no further explanation. He quickly delegated tasks to his companions, then silently offered his hand to transport them both. Julian accepted with a remarkable about of dignity, given the last twelve hours. Before they disappeared, he turned back to the forge and the creature that had usurped it. Hopefully, he'd have it back soon, with a few more perks. But for now, Julian contented himself with a sarcastic bow. Then they were en route to the Gilderoy Shoppe.
Happy sodding Valentine's Day.
Character(s): Julian, his forge, and another new addition to the family.
Location: The Forge, at Bronze and E
Status: Private hell
Summary: Some people get chocolate hearts on Valentine's Day. Julian gets heart burn.
Completion: Complete... ly unbelievable.
When Julian finally awoke, the first sensation to come to him - well, outside of the throbbing headache, the burning throat, and the general feeling that dementors had chased him for three days straight - was the sound of a fire gently hissing by his ear. It was rather soothing, and he attempted to roll over towards it. That was when those other sensations came to his full awareness. With a croaky groan, he opened his eyes.
Only to find himself faced with a glowing snake.
It's interesting, the things adrenaline will allow you to do that you thought otherwise impossible.
His throat lent itself well enough to a hearty shout, and Julian did his best to roll away from the serpent. For its part, the snake looked just as alarmed and reared back with a startled hiss, before crumbling into a pile of ash. An ashwinder. Which meant...
He felt on the verge of another swoon, but had just enough adrenaline left to pull himself up to lean heavily onto a work table. Glancing to the forge, he found a most wondrous sight. A fire, bright and clean-burning. It was obviously magical in nature. One could feel it in the tingle its heat left upon the skin. You could see it in the way the individual flames danced around each other, and how the embers twirled intricate patterns in the air. Julian could also smell the brimstone wafting from it. He stared, utterly amazed. The ritual had worked, despite that flair up and the untimely closing.
There was, however, a niggle in the back of Julian's mind. Something was not quite right. He stared at the fire, willing the pounding in his head to lessen. Just when he thought he might grasp that vague impression, a squeak, then a couple more, broke his concentration and caused his head to throb again.
"Master Avery should not be up and about! Please, good Master, lay back down!"
Before he could protest, Julian found three house elves hovering about him anxiously. He rolled his eyes, then winced at the resulting pain. "Handy... I'm quite fine, thank you. Just a bit light-headed is all." Bringing his hand up to massage a temple, he froze upon noticing his sleeve stiff with dried blood. Of course, the sectumsempra, but then... Pushing back the material, he saw his palm was healed save for the faintest of scars.
"We elves heard the noise and came right away," the elf named Handy explained. "We found Master collapsed, and took care of him."
Julian cocked a brow. It was an impressive patch up job. "You used dittany?" The elf nodded, then commanded the other two to 'fetch things'. As they disappeared, Julian quizzed Handy about the state of the forge. Toyler was the first one back, handing him Dragon's Breath as the other elf explained that everything was in good working order. That assessment seemed incorrect somehow, but the reason remained elusive. Julian found his eyes stealing back to the fire when the third elf, Thiefrow, appeared with two vials. At his enquiring look, the elf elaborated, "They is potions leftover from Mister Lockhart's illness, Sir. Invigoration potion and blood-replenishing potion, they is. Hardy Master has lost much blood."
Well, he certainly felt drained, of a lot of things actually. He was familiar with the sensation of magical depletion, as the Dark Loon didn't particularly care what it took to accomplish a task, so long as His minions did His bidding. Nodding his compliance, Julian tipped back each potion, grimacing at the aftertaste but generally starting to feel better. Risking a charm for headache relief, clarity began returning to him. It was in that moment that he noticed a... lack of something else.
It was hard to describe. The best he could manage was to say he felt a strange sense of... alleviation. It was as though some burden had been lifted, and his mind was left with room to focus. Likewise, his heart felt a bit... freer. This wasn't Peace - such as he'd ever experienced, anyway - but it was definitely... cathartic.
Julian thought back to those final moments, before closing the hellmouth. Perhaps that had been another form of purification.
It was also at that moment he finally realised what was so off about everything. The hellmouth had been closed prematurely. How in... well, Hell, was the fire maintaining itself?
"Handy, has there been anyone - or anything - in here besides you three and myself?"
"No, Master Avery, not since the summoning."
"It wasn't a sum- wait, what?" Suddenly, he felt his pulse begin to quicken. And double, literally.
Oh shit.
It was as though someone had thrown a timeturner in mud, gradually miring its rings. As the elf began explaining, Julian turned back towards the forge, feeling that second pulse rising along with a dawning comprehension. "No-one else has been here but Master," he watched, transfixed with horror, as the fire began swelling, "we house elves," the flames shot upwards, creating a wall of angry heat, "and your fire demon." There was a shift within the mass, flames situating themselves into what might be construed as a face. Then 'his demon' roared.
Why did things always get so complicated?
Over the guttural din, Julian shouted, "Why in Jove's name didn't you say something? Or do something! This isn't mine."
"RIGHT YOU ARE, FOOLISH MORTAL!" The roar had suddenly morphed into a booming voice. "HOW DARE YOU PRESUME TO CAPTURE ONE SO HIGH AND MIGHTY AS MYSELF!"
For a second, Julian stood frozen. Somewhere behind him, Handy mutter, "We saw that Master had woven a cage. We thought Master wanted to keep it." Keep it? This was one sick idea for a pet.
"KEEP? I AM NOT A PET FOR YOUR AMUSEMENT, FOOLISH MORTAL!"
'Fido' had an uncanny knack for reading minds. Julian was again made aware of that second heartbeat, drumming through his veins as strongly as his own. Oh bloody, bloody, bloody Hell. Uncertain how to approach this nightmare, he fell back on the usual tactics. Bullshitting his way out of things.
"Fire Master, there's been a mistake! My intention wasn't to capture you! I had merely created a hellmouth, in the hopes of collecting some of Hades' Infernal Light." All too easily, Julian dropped to his knees and bowed close to the ground. He kept expecting to hear "Crucio" uttered in a high, thin voice. After all, three months - or three years - was hardly a blink of the eye to Pure Evil.
"FIRE MAS... uh, YES, DAMN RIGHT THERE'S BEEN A MISTAKE! FOOLISH MORTAL!" There was a brief pause, then the demon bellowed quickly, "WHY, THE VERY NOTION OF SUCH A FEAT IS RIDICULOUS! COMPLETELY, RIDICULOUS! A THOUSAND TORMENTS I SHALL VISIT UPON YOU FOR YOUR AUDACITY! I WILL MAKE YOU BLEED! I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER!" There was another pause. "FOOLISH MORTAL!" Julian could feel eyes - magical or otherwise - upon his genuflecting form. "I WILL START BY, SETTING FIRE TO YOUR HAIR! WHILE YOU ARE BOUND, HELPLESS TO PUT IT OUT! I WILL KEEP THE FLAME GOING, LONG AFTER EVERY HAIR IS GONE! YOU'LL GIVE YUL BRYNNER A RUN FOR HIS DOME! AND THOSE DAMN FRUITY EARRINGS WILL MELT YOUR EARS OFF! AND THEN I'LL STICK YOU ON A SPIT AND ROAST YOU LIKE THE FLAMBOYANT MARSHMALLOW YOU ARE! BUT NOT BEFORE I USE YOUR BLOOD FOR CHOCOLATE SAUCE AND YOUR BONES AS GRAHAM CRACKERS!" He thought he heard a noise that sounded like... lip-smacking. "HA! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO SPEND ALL OF ETERNITY AS A CAMPFIRE MORSEL? FOOLISH MORTAL!" The demon then collapsed into celebratory cackling that sounded less like mad laughter and more like... smug snickering.
Well, Julian hadn't a damn clue as to who Graham was and what was so special about his crackers, but he'd spent the better part of two wars groveling before over-inflated gas bags of one sort or another. He knew when one had the bollocks, or the power, to back up their claims. The chief source of what intimidation he did feel was attributed more to the assault on logic and dignity than a threat to his person. Slowly, he stood and glanced up at the entity, which if human would likely be pissing itself with laughter right now. Julian simply watched, arms folded, until it finally noticed.
"OH... ENOUGH GAMES NOW, FOOLISH MORTAL! RELEASE ME, AND PERHAPS I'LL LET YOU KEEP YOUR HAIR!"
A small, knowing smirk came to Julian's face. "No."
"I MAY EVEN - err, what?"
"I said no."
"AND I SAID RELEASE ME, FOOLISH MORTAL! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE! I AM YOUR FIRE-Y MASTER AND I COMMAND YOU!"
"No, you're not. And no, I won't. If you were a Fire Master, you could break free on your own. In fact, I would have already been 'roasted'. Instead, you've not even attempted to break through the wards. Oh, I'm sure you tested them earlier, but since you're still here, it's painfully obvious you lack any real power against them." His smirk grew into something quite smug in its own right, and he concluded in almost a whisper, "That makes you less a master, and more a servant."
The beast had clearly heard him. "Oh shh- SUCH INSOLENCE! HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME IN SUCH A MANNER, FOOL-"
"Oh, do shut up already," Julian groaned in annoyance. His headache was threatening to come back.
The abrupt silence that followed was enough to shock him out of his mood, however.
Eyes snapped to the demon's... face. It looked as though it wanted to respond, but there was a will outside of its own guiding its actions. Well, it was good to know all that bleeding hadn't been for naught. This demon was susceptible not only to the wards and the runes - as it hadn't escaped by reopening the hellmouth - but it was prone to blood bonds as well. As he'd stated, this creature was low in the pecking order. As flattering as it would be to think he had power and will sufficient to bind a major elemental demon, Julian hadn't ego enough for such delusions. After all, he wasn't the Dark Lord, or Gilderoy.
Still, it was rather brilliant to know he had a demon beholden to him.
Julian noticed that the pulse within was fluctuating in intensity, however, indicating that his hold over the demon wasn't complete. Likely, the bond would be something he could pull on for all but the primal urges. Survival - including the need for escape - would be an impulse hard to squash.
At least, in the beginning.
He was no fool about this, though. Julian was aware that he was... well, playing with fire. This, however, was an opportunity he could neither refuse nor ignore. It took little guessing as to what would happen if he released the demon. Regardless of its station, they all were driven by the same motivations, chaos and destruction. Things Julian desperately wished to cut out of his life now.
Besides, he had no ambition to be any sort of morsel.
His plans were still salvageable, if he proceeded carefully. He simply needed time to rethink his strategies. Besides, he wasn't in a position to do more at the moment anyway. The potions hadn't cured him, just given him a boost to sustain him a bit longer. The adrenaline from this latest shock had run its course now, too. Julian would be surprised if he could command a puppy, much less a partially-bound fire demon.
And speaking of unwieldy puppies... He should have been home hours ago. It was amazing Gilderoy hadn't sought him out by now. Paranoid as always, he recalled that there were still three house elves behind him and asked, "Thiefrow, am I correct in assuming you went to my building to procure those potions?"
"... Yes, Master Avery, Thiefrow did."
"Did you see Gilderoy there, by chance?"
"No, Sir, Thiefrow did not. Thiefrow thinks Mister Gilderoy has already left for work. There is smells in the kitchen like breakfast, and an empty box of chocolates in the bedroom bin."
Julian smirked, figuring that was probably his punishment for not coming home. Well, he would just have to make it up to the man with another tasty treat... later. Currently, he wasn't sure if he could walk the distance or even apparate. He did know, however, that he needed to find his Goldleaf.
A suspicious crackle came from the forge. Glancing over, he caught a sort of eye roll from the fire demon.
Well, that settled his plans, then.
"The three of you, I put you in charge of a new task. Starting today, your duties will include making sure our guest," the fire squinted at him and kicked up a few embers, "stays in the comfy little spot we've made for it." He couldn't help a nasty little sneer. It didn't last long, however, as he continued. "Handy, I'll leave it in your capable hands to organise the work shifts. But first... I'm going to need your assistance."
Julian sighed bitterly, but thankfully Handy required no further explanation. He quickly delegated tasks to his companions, then silently offered his hand to transport them both. Julian accepted with a remarkable about of dignity, given the last twelve hours. Before they disappeared, he turned back to the forge and the creature that had usurped it. Hopefully, he'd have it back soon, with a few more perks. But for now, Julian contented himself with a sarcastic bow. Then they were en route to the Gilderoy Shoppe.
Happy sodding Valentine's Day.