April 19th, 2098

14:54:39 Cyrus`Valen “For what it’s worth, I really wasn’t the one who killed your mother,” he tossed absently over his shoulder. Multiple incantations kept Gloriana bound to a chair via chains and magical means, including an invisible barrier that extended six feet in every direction from where she sat. His back was to her, currently, and he was working on some sort of potion or another…a few cauldrons bubbling slightly, and he was working a mortar and pestle, “I loved her, I really did. It’s a shame that you grew up to take everything from me. All of you. The students, Kaust…” he closed his eyes for a moment, fighting back the homicidal rage that threatened to overtake him. Her imprisonment hadn’t been pleasant…but he hadn’t used the Cruciatus curse on her again, at least. He’d used the sewers until he was far enough away from the barriers to apparate, doing so several times until he’d gotten free of the city. And though she’d been unconscious and had no way of knowing, they were out in the countryside, the nearest civilization a few dozen miles away. From the outside, it appeared to be nothing more than a dilapidated barn. Unfortunately, due to his poor skills with charms, he hadn’t been able to do much as far as creating an illusion, but he’d at least roughed it up some more, transfigured parts of it to make it look as though it were in danger of collapsing. As it was, they were nestled in a subcellar of the structure, and he’d set multiple traps should anyone unwelcome come knocking.

15:10:05 [Gloriana] She struggled against her binds, weakly. Only a few short minutes ago she’d woken from an extended form of cataplexy to find herself here. Where was here? Her eyes danced around the room to find no discernible trace of their location. Just a dark, dank cellar sporting cobwebs and the echoed drip of some long-forgotten leak (that didn’t seem to faze Valen in the least). Muscles tensed and loosened under the chains that bound her, until she gave up the fruitless effort of wriggling her way out of them (as if anyone would allow a captive the chance, let alone Valen.) He spoke of her mother, but she found herself too drowsy to spit out the years vitriol backed up in her system. “Why are you doing this?“ As if he needed a motive. Crazy was reason enough. And Cyrus was certainly that — if her current situation was any proof.

15:23:17 Cyrus`Valen He still didn’t turn to face her, finally resting the mortar and pestle and raising his arm to a shelf above the table, fingertips tracing over hand labeled vials. Dragon’s blood, phoenix tears…both of those selected. Clearly, he’d raided his supply closet at Hogwarts before turning in his resignation. Clutching the vials between his fingers so that they poked up between his knuckles, he clenched the corks in his teeth and yanked them free, spitting them aside before dumping their contents into the cauldron with a rush of smoke and a flash of fire. While the flame still burned, he moved quickly and dumped the contents of the mortar in, the flame becoming a deep, brilliant green for a moment before extinguishing. Curiously enough, whatever potion he was making gave off a scent like roasting pork, sweet and smoky. He turned to face her, propping another mortar in the crook of the stump of his left arm’s remains and shoulder, the other grasping his wand, “I just told you. To make all of you pay for the suffering you put me through. And to take back what you all stole,” he stated simply before kneeling in front of her. A soft murmur, and the tip of his wand glowed with a fierce silver light. He placed the mortar against her ankle, and then drug the wand down her leg, from her knee to her ankle. The incantation whatever it was, was much like a blade, splitting the flesh (though not so wide or so deep as to cause death or serious injury), and he rose as blood trickled into the bowl, before making his way back to the table, letting it slowly fill. He put his wand away and grasped something beneath…a large bone, still caked with dirt in places and yellow with age, “My father’s,” he showed her…and placed it on the table, grasping his wand again to begin breaking it into chunks with a series of low-powered cutting spells. When he’d completed this, he emptied it into one of the many mortars, and began to grind it to a fine meal, “You have your mother’s eyes…and her attitude as well,” he reminisced on some of their altercations at Hogwarts, “She was the loveliest woman I’ve ever known. Your father didn’t deserve her. And I think she knew that…which is why she turned to me.”

15:43:26 [Gloriana] “We didn’t steal anythin’!“ She began to struggle again as he came toward her. Hair matted against her sweaty cheek as she rolled her head to one side to watch him. “What’re you—“ she cut herself off with a barely restrained growl of pain, accompanied by ground teeth and tears that pulled at the corners of her eyes. Her muscles clenched painfully, already-exhausted body forced to endure more strain, and it didn’t stop when Valen’s wand left her calf. She had barely enough attention to keep from passing out again, but she managed enough to keep listening. A bone? What kind of potion required human bone… and someone’s blood? She didn’t know, though she surmised it was dark magic. Cyrus really had gone off the deep end, hadn’t he? He kept on about her mother and she found herself wishing she could let go and pass out again. “Please let me go,“ she cried, and tears streamed down her dirty face in ribbons.

15:55:59 Cyrus`Valen “Crying…always with the FUCKING CRYING!” he snarled, before grasping an empty bottle and lobbing it at her, the glass zipping just past her head and missing by scant centimeters before crashing and shattering against the far wall, “Shut the FUCK up with the crying!” As he grew angrier, his own accent was thickening. And then he was across the room, practically straddling Boulstridge’s waist as he loomed over her, his hand rising to grasp her by the jaw, squeezing as he snarled down at her, “I want revenge, lass,” In an instant, he’d gone from a roaring rage, and now he was quite again, practically murmuring, “I want to see all of you. Broken. Stripped raw, like I am. And then I want to watch you die. Kaust, though…she’ll get something special, she’s last,” he sneered. And then he dropped his grip and knelt down to grasp the bloodied bowel, dumping it in with the bonemeal and beginning to grind the two to a fine paste. It appeared that the former Potions Master was truly gone and whatever this pitiful, crazed thing was before her had taken over full swing. One final ingredient besides the mixture…a vial of lizard eyes, and then the paste. Thick, black smoke roared from the cauldron, and he finally turned to just stare at her, letting it simmer. His eyes were dull now, as if he’d been drinking, and his voice thick, “They took Charlie, you know. They took her, and they tortured her, and then they killed her….or, rather, they made her. Used the Imperius curse, and they made her cut herself wide open, arm to elbow, and then her throat.”

16:10:59 [Gloriana] Glori flinched, jerked her head away at the flung vial with a simultaneous gasped sob. She was still craning her head over her shoulder to view the damage (that could have been my head) when he swung in and took her by the chin. Her neck strained against the harsh pull of Cyrus’s grasp, as if he were trying to remove her head from her body using the only hand he had left. Her toes dug into the ground to push what she could of her out of his choking grasp. She spluttered and coughed, “I can’t breatheI can’t breatheI can’t breathe.“ He finally let go and she began to gasp and choke for air again. Glori threw her head back and closed her eyes, catching her breath. Eyebrows knit together in a silent prayer - Please, someone please. Cyrus was still murmuring, something about Charlie. She tried to place a face with the name, but came up short. Whoever she was, she’d meant a great deal to Cyrus… enough for him to take it out on Glori, on Mop, on all of them.

16:23:46 Cyrus`Valen “That boy…Porthman, the one they call Mop? Your partner in crime?” he spoke softly, “I’m going to make him do the same thing. In front of you. But he won’t get off as easy as death, no…I want him to watch what I do to you. Keep him alive with necromancy. And then you’re going to finish him for me,” he murmured. He grabbed a flask from the table and took a long drink before beginning to scoop the contents of the cauldron into a large, crystal decanter, “And then, and only then will I let you die,” he muttered. He was slow, deliberate…careful not to spill a drop of the nefarious concoction, “This is it,” he mused before beginning to murmur an incantation of some unfamiliar tongue. As if responding, the potion in his grasp began to bubble violently, popping and splashing inside the decanter, and then he was drinking back, gulping and gagging on the noxious taste.

16:36:22 [Gloriana] Mop. His name caught her attention, and she was lifting her head to look at him again. She’d begun to shake her head long before words finally poured out of her mouth. “No, you do what you want with me, but don’t you dare touch a hair on his head!“ Or she’d what? Cry until he went mad? Brilliant plan. However, if there was one thing that fueled her hate fire for Cyrus more than his constant referral to her mother and her death, it was any threat he dared make at Mop. Mop was all the family she had in the world… more. She’d murder Cyrus a hundred times before letting him so much as breathe on Mop. Glori began to rock the chair she’d been bound to, “I’ll fucking kill you!“ Her struggled slowed to a halt when she saw him drink the potion, but only for a precious few moments and she was at it again, working against the chair to topple it over. Then what? She’d be more useless on the floor than she would be upright. It was obviously a brilliant plan…

16:45:16 Cyrus`Valen He sneered, reaching for his wand, preparing to fire off another Crucio…when it hit him. Intense, and unyielding pain, like his entire body was on fire. He stumbled first, releasing a roar, turning…knocking everything from his workbench with a sweep of his arm, before stumbling about the basement. He was colliding into things, and his body was bulging quite inhumanly in places…and then returning to its normal shape, until he was finally collapsing in a far corner of the room. His cloak settled about him, and guttural chokes emitted from the bundled pile of Cyrus, the sound of gagging and vomiting…and then something else, like a squelch, and thick black ichor spewed from beneath the cloak, and it went still, save for heavy, ragged breathing. Where his table had been, a small fire had burst onto the scene, though at the moment it was of no concern. He sneered, reaching for his wand, preparing to fire off another Crucio…when it hit him. Intense, and unyielding pain, like his entire body was on fire. He stumbled first, releasing a roar, turning…knocking everything from his workbench with a sweep of his arm, before stumbling about the basement. He was colliding into things, and his body was bulging quite inhumanly in places…and then returning to its normal shape, until he was finally collapsing in a far corner of the room. His cloak settled about him, and guttural chokes emitted from the bundled pile of Cyrus, the sound of gagging and vomiting…and then something else, like a squelch, and thick black ichor spewed from beneath the cloak, and it went still, save for heavy, ragged breathing. Where his table had been, a small fire had burst onto the scene, though at the moment it was of no concern.

17:03:35 [Gloriana] She shifted her weight this way and that, only managing to pick up the chair a few small inches from the ground before she settled back into place. Her gaze dropped to the floor, to the pavestone beneath her chair. If she could only manage to use one of those cracks for leverage. In the background, Cyrus caused himself quite a scene, a scene Glori was scarcely privy to with her attempts at breaking free. She used her weight to drag the chair over until it ran aground against the crevice and then, with all of her might, pushed the chair over on its side with a jarring crash. Cyrus was huddled in the corner, and now Glori was lying (still roped and chained to her seat) on her side with nowhere to go. A fire burned several feet away where the table once stood. And not far away were the shards of glass leftover from Cyrus’s tantrum. She began a long, arduous, and likely doomed attempt at scooting herself toward the glass while Cyrus was still vomiting on the other side of the cellar.

18:04:26 Cyrus`Valen Shook his head in disgust, “That’s all you can muster for me? I give you a chance to make good on your threat, and this is what you give me? Crucio! he snarled, unleashing a volley of the curse at her. His wand lashed, he was flinging spell after spell at her…nothing deadly, but mostly aimed to cause pain. Stinging hexes, hexes that raised boils and welts that were instantly popped by other hexes. Assuming she couldn’t muster the strength to counter them, his fury would finally diminish, and he’d just sneer before putting his wand away, “Come here.” And he was across the basement, grasping her throat…and apparating, once to drop her at the steps of St. Mungo’s, and then again. To the Leaky Cauldron. Surely the Ministry would begin receiving calls of his presence, given he was plastered across the very Daily Prophet he was reading now. Ordering a drink, he propped in a corner of the pub to wait, feet kicked on a table, whistling.

18:18:19 [Gloriana] She barely managed to shove herself out of the way of his second cruciatus curse, and it worked. The only drawback was, she’d gone and knocked herself into another painful carousel of headaches. “Hnng,“ she held her head. But before she could try to move again, he was cursing and jinxing and hexing her with every spell in his repertoire, boils and swelling and pustules and burns, scrapes and slashes and bone-breaking awfulness the likes of which she had never experienced before in her life. But all of it was rainbows and puppies compared to the unforgivable curse she has scarcely escaped moments before. She was still writhing in agony when he heaved her up by her neck and they were gone. At the foot of St. Mungo’s, Gloriana crumbled into a heap, twitching in agony. A mediwitch caught sight of the wizard who’s familiar face was now plastered on every corner in Diagon Alley (Leaky Cauldron included) and sent out a caterwauling charm that echoed through Diagon Alley, loud and clear. Cyrus Valen has been found!

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