entrancelogs | VALENTINE'S DAY CATCH ALL 12th-17th

VALENTINE'S DAY CATCH ALL 12th-17th

Who: Anyone and everyone who wants to participate
Where: Literally every corner of the known universe
When: Again with the questions...
Rating: BIG BIG HORRIBLE WARNING LOTS OF DEATH AND FIGHTING AND GRAPHIC EVERYTHING I think you might need an adult...
Summary:

THIS IS A CATCH ALL LOG FOR THE DURATION OF THIS SITUATION

Here's what happens. If you want interaction with HARRY OR TOM, if you want to have a short thread with someone discovering a BODY or someone who is WOUNDED or generally just want some blood and guts it happens in here.

THAT BEING SAID if you want to write a log? Do it. I'm just trying to control the madness in one place...as if that might be easier to manage. It also means the community isn't TOO flooded with bodies and boxes of chocolate so those wanting to bypass this event will have less to look at.

IF YOU ARE A VICTIM, YOU MAY POST YOUR DEATH POST IN HERE
I mean, you can if you want but also feel free to make an independent post. Up to you.

Comment in with a header including date and place for whatever situation you're doing so we can just keep track. I'll do the same.

Questions, comments, plurk or aim or pm me. x

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James knows they aren't supposed to be out alone, and it's a good idea. It really is. It's the best way to keep everyone safe, but he doesn't feel particularly bound to it himself. There's a murderer on the loose, but James fully expects to be able to catch him if they cross paths. From what he understands, it's a Muggle and while Muggles can be strong in their own right he still has his wand and he's not expecting it to be much of a struggle to restrain the killer if he's attacked.

But, that's not why he's out.

The truth is, Remus has been missing for several days. His room is empty and any sign that he was ever around is gone. James has been here many times before though, so often that it's become routine. He waits, because if Remus comes back within a week or so he'll remember everything. It's been almost that long now, but the full moon will be tonight. He can't imagine how hard it would be to suddenly be pulled back to Wonderland and be forced to immediately deal with the full moon, no matter when in the month it was for him at home. So, he's doing one last sweep of the mansion, to make sure Remus hasn't turned up again and to ease his mind, though he knows he'll be tempted to look again when the moon comes out.

As he makes his way up the stairs, he catches something in the corner of his eye, down one of the halls. It's not Remus; it's a dark figure in gear James doesn't recognize, wielding a pickaxe. James freezes and stares, watching for a moment at the figure walks away. That's the murderer. It has to be.

He raises his wand, but before he can wonder if he can manage something non-verbally, the man stops.

And he turns.

And James is standing there, wand raised.

He can feel his blood run cold, and immediately regrets not taking his invisibility cloak with him, but it's a little late for regrets now. Instead, he hardens his expression and casts with a quick and swirled wand wave. Meanwhile, the stranger, now his attacker, is running toward him, weapon raised.

"Expelliarmus!"

It misses, though it does manage to knock some decorative things off the wall. But ultimately, it only shows exactly what his wand can do, and it doesn't slow the man down. James staggers backwards and up a couple of stairs, hoping to put some distance between them even if it has to be up and not away. It all happens very quickly though, quicker than James could have ever anticipated.

He raises his wand to try and disarm him again, but the stranger swings hard and the pickaxe digs into James' arm, at the elbow. The accompanying noise is sickening - bone being cracked and forced apart as the joint is separated with a quick twist. Sharp pain shoots through him and he cries out, dropping his wand as his hand goes limp.

The pickaxe is yanked away and James drops himself down to make a quick grab for his wand with his other hand, but with that move he loses any height advantage he had. This time when his attacker swings, the pickaxe strikes his shoulder - deep into his shoulder. Along with the crack of bone there's an audible pop, one James is familiar with from Quidditch accidents. But the pain is entirely different when there's an object lodged into the socket, forcing the separation from inside. And then it's ripped out and James feels something tear and it's agonizing. He sees blood when the axe is near his face.

He's breathing hard now, gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles are white because he can't lose it, not when he can't get another one. And this man in the strange uniform is looming over him, pickaxe raised.

For a moment, James is certain he's going to die.

But then in a desperate move, James shuts his eyes tight. There is a loud CRACK and then he's gone and the pickaxe is being swung at empty air.

The noise is equally loud when James appears suddenly in his room, but since he had originally been low to the stairs he appears in a similar position near his desk. It actually wasn't a bad attempt - he only missed sitting in his desk chair by about six inches, but he's far enough away that he quickly wavers and loses his balance. The chair knocks over and on his way down he tries to grab the desk with his uninjured hand to keep from falling. He can't do that and hold onto his wand though, and his efforts just make him scatter half the desktop parchment in the air.

He lands roughly, with a loud and pained groan, but then he just lays there and breaths heavily for a minute, still reeling from the adrenaline of the last minute or so and silently marveling in the fact that he's alive.

Frankly put, Sirius nearly pees himself.

It's not that he's not used to the sound of apparition, it's more the fact that there's a muggle murdering spree going on for whatever reason and James though that meant it was a great time to go on a stroll.

Well, look for Mooney, which IS IMPORTANT, he isn't denying it, but they have ways of keeping in contact. They have plans and protocols. Sirius hasn't been in Wonderland long enough to feel like he owns it (something that might eventually change). He doesn't know the dangers that present themselves here. This isn't like school, this isn't dodging teachers and detention and the occasional troll.

This is people dying left, right and centre and he really doesn't appreciate James out in the middle of it.

But it had been Stay here, Sirius, someone has to be here if Mooney shows up, Sirius. No sense in us both being out there, I'll be right back, Sirius. The anxiety had built to a level he is barely able to contain. And so he'd spent the short time James had popped out for a quick look pacing figure-eights into the floor boards, wand tightly clutched, jaw locked, body tightly wound and ready to spring.

This isn't who they are. They don't hide and wait. They don't go off alone, this is madness.

And so when James comes crashing in, not by way of the door but by way of magic, the sudden shock nearly pulls Sirius from his own skin. He even lets out a little noise and whips around just as his dearest friend sends a flurry of parchment into the air.

It takes him a moment to realize James is falling, and another to see that's he's hurt.

He's across the room in a heartbeat with a gasp, and scrambles down to his knees.

And there's blood. THERE IS SO MUCH BLOOD!

"James!" No time for nicknames.

"What happened?" He goes to grab him but recoils on the chance he'll do more harm than good.

"Answer me, say something-"

It hadn't been the best of plans, no. And James hadn't wanted to leave Sirius alone, though admittedly that was more of a concern for Sirius' safety than his own. And if Sirius had suggested the same thing, he would have protested just as much.

But it wasn't a full patrol. He was going to be gone ten minutes, twenty tops. He wasn't covering the whole grounds; it was just a quick sweep for any sign of Remus. He would be right back. Stay here; he'll be right back. He'd said all of these things in an effort to ease Sirius' mind, even though James knew exactly how bad it was out there. He'd nearly been sick when he heard about Martha.

He had passed all of the information he had to Sirius. It was probably an event, but the killer was a Muggle. If anything happened he'd be able to restrain him, and when the recklessness of that hadn't satisfied Sirius he went on saying he would be able to get away before anything could even touch him. He would be okay. James had been so sure, and he needed to be just as sure that Remus hadn't turned up again.

In retrospect, it had probably been more than a little selfish.

When James opens his eyes, Sirius is above him, looking appropriately panicked. He blinks a couple of times before he can find words.

"I'm fine," he blurts out. "I'm fine, I-"

He tries to get up and winces, settling back down immediately. He'd tried to push himself up with his dominant hand, but he couldn't even feel it, much less move it. His injuries are much worse than he had imagined when they were happening. His sleeve is dark and wet from blood and torn in the places the pickaxe struck him. But even without those cues, there's something visibly wrong. At the two wounds, his arm is noticeably out of place, bent just slightly the wrong way from dislocation. He's not going to be able to use it any time soon.

"...'m alright; I'll be alright," he says. "Bastard came at me with a bloody pickaxe; that's what happened..."

He's stubborn though, and he starts trying to prop himself up on his other hand, finally letting go of his wand to do so. It becomes obvious that his wounded arm is limp and any time his shoulder or elbow comes close to moving even slightly, he screws his eyes shut from the pain and stills.

So no, he's not really alright. But he's also not dead, and that's still a great accomplishment as far as James is concerned.

Sirius reels back for a moment, fingers hovering inches away. He wants desperately to gather his friend up, or do something about the wound or something but the fear of making it worse stops him from getting too close. James is, decided, very much not okay.

"What, you've been stabbed?" He asks, taking a shaky breath - voice high and stressed as he tries to suppress the urge to scream and get as far away as possible. James, friend, your arm looks twisted and it's making his stomach turn. But his instinct is to grab up the closest piece of clothing up from the ground and press it to his friend's arm, desperate to control his own panic and somehow stop the bleeding.

Concise questions, right? Isn't that what you're supposed to do?

"Shite, okay, what do I do? What can I do?"

He winces when the pressure is applied and makes a pained noise, but before Sirius can pull away, he puts up a hand. It's hard - James is someone who talks very animatedly with his hands, so to only have one is a bit of a struggle.

"No, that's good. I...I think that's what you're supposed to do," he says, uncertainly. "I know it's still bleeding. ...You're doing good."

He's pretty sure that's more important than what it looks like, or if the pressure hurts. He doesn't know very much about it though, so it's entirely possible it could be hurting him more, but it's not like they can go to the hospital wing and have him patched up in a matter of minutes.

Though...that's not a bad train of thought.

"...I think we need a healer," he says. And then he holds out his hand and curls his fingers, gesturing Sirius over. "Help me up."

It's probably not wise to be trying to get up, but he sure as hell isn't letting Sirius go alone after all that. It's been proven pretty clearly that that's a terrible idea. ...Though, he's not sure exactly how he would stop him from going alone, but he'll figure that out when his head isn't swimming so much.

Edited 2014-02-16 03:51 (UTC)

Right. Right, a healer, of course.

Sirius doesn't even think about it and does exactly what is asked of him, pulling himself up first before extending both hands to haul James to his feet by his good hand.

"Here, just. Sit in the toilet over the sink."

Stop him from bleeding all over everything and he can sit down if he needs. Sirius would put him on the bed but the bath sounds like a much better option. Or his head is spinning too fast for him to make concrete decisions.

He doesn't really think, he just reacts, guiding James towards the bathroom to where he tries to wordlessly guide him to either sit on the toilet or get in the tub. Contain the blood. Contain the carnage.

"Who is a healer here? Who do I get? Where do I go?" Rapid fire questions but he doesn't know anything. And making James think will keep him conscious, right? Distract him from the fact his arm is practically backwards.

Standing up is excruciating. No matter how he goes about it, it requires moving his wounded arm and he can feel the bones move a bit further out of place just from gravity pulling them down. Also, upon standing the room spins a little more than James was expecting it to. He wonders if that's just the adrenaline wearing off, but no - there's a large puddle of blood on the floor that explains it.

It catches James' eye briefly and it actually horrifies him. All of that came from him. That's all his blood and he's losing more of it; he can feel it running down his arm until just past his elbow, where he's stopped being able to feel much of anything.

He can walk alright for the moment, even if he's a little dizzy from standing. Having Sirius guide him definitely helps with that though, and his legs are fine. It's just his arm that's the problem, and that's just James trying to rationalize it to himself, and make it seem less bad than it actually is.

He leaves a trail of blood behind them as they go.

He stubbornly doesn't sit on the toilet or get in the tub, because he's pretty sure if he does either that Sirius won't want to let him up again - for good reason, of course. Instead he stands over the sink, trying angle himself so that most of the blood goes in it without moving his arm much. It's actually a bit harder than James was expecting it to be, only because the sink was just slightly too high for it to be convenient.

Luckily, he doesn't have to think long on the question of a healer.

"...Souji," James says. "He'll do it. He's-"

He's done it for him before, but suddenly James suspects mentioning he's been hurt before is probably going to make Sirius worry more than he needs to, even if it was only a sprained ankle then.

"...He's a good friend of mine here," he says. "He's about our age, but he's definitely a healer. It's different magic I think, but it'll do. You'll see what I mean."

James shifts a little, to stand more upright for the next bit, knowing he's not going to be taken seriously if he doesn't look like he can make the trip. He's really starting to not feel well, but he's not so far gone that he can't still at least try to fake it.

"He works in the diner, so he's probably there, but take me with you. It's exactly one floor up from us; it's not far at all. I can do it. Really. ...I can do it."

God this is actually just..disgusting. And, as someone who considers themselves relatively solid and not at all squeamish, that's saying something. And, admittedly, there is a part of him wanting to poke about at the wound and see what's going on, but this is James they're talking about and so things are entirely different.

He listens, nodding quickly though the instructions sound a bit like they're underwater and he's not sure he remembers them all but okay this is a plan. This is a good plan.

"Prongs, mate. Half of you is backwards.. I think you should stay here.."

Even if it's not too far, they are infinitely safer staying inside.

"Unless we apparate. Are you good for that?"

If James weren't feeling so rotten he would want to tease Sirius about the squeamishness, but this really isn't the time or the place for that. He's trying to look at his arm as little as possible, so he doesn't have to acknowledge how disturbing it is. He doesn't want to look down and see his arm mangled and out of place.

It'll be fine. It'll be fine because they'll find Souji and he'll fix it in less than a minute, and it'll be like it never happened and he'll never have to look at his twisted, limp arm again.

When Sirius first says he should stay behind, his face falls. He opens his mouth like he's about to protest - he can't stay here and let Sirius go off alone to find someone he's never met when that madman could be anywhere. This was different; there was a real danger out there now. But then apparition is brought up, and that sounds just perfect.

"I am. I'm good for that. I mean...just did it five minutes ago, so. Think I'll be alright."

Of course, that was five minutes of blood loss from huge gaping wounds he'd endured since then. Apparition required a lot of focus and he was really starting to feel light headed. He's never apparated under conditions like that before, and it's entirely possible he was only able to apparate before because the situation was so dire. It was either apparate or let the killer put a pickaxe through his skull.

But it has to be alright, because Sirius is not going alone.

"I'm good," he says again, more firmly. "I'll be fine."

Edited (I hate typos that make the sentence say literally the opposite of what it's supposed to AUGH) 2014-02-18 16:20 (UTC)

Sirius is having a hard time believing that his friend is anything near okay but what choice do they have?

"Alright..hold on, then."

He nods and gently tries to find a way to get a good grasp on James, so they can travel together. And it is with a loud CRACK that they do, appearing exactly one floor above in the diner.

In the diner covered in blood and broken glass.

In the diner covered in blood and glass with a body laid on the counter and oh Merlin is that a body!?!

Like a real dead body?!

"James.." Sirius says quietly, blood draining from his face, mind racing with all the possibilities of what could be happening and what might happen, eyes locked on the sight ahead of them.

"Please tell me that's not your healer friend..."

Apparating was not the best of ideas, but again, what choice did they have?

It's easy enough to focus on where they're going, but for the most part James relies on Sirius. He has an infinite amount of trust in Sirius and knows he won't splinch them together or anything. But apparating is dizzying and while that's normally a thrill he loves, the room is still spinning when they arrive. James staggers and holds onto Sirius as well as he can, leaning heavily against him so he doesn't fall. His stomach tried to drop all the way to the floor when they arrived and for a minute James keeps his eyes on the floor, trying to will himself not to be sick.

It takes him a moment to notice the glass, and the blood. Blood that isn't his own. He slowly, slowly makes himself look up.

He stares. And he grows far too quiet.

He can feel himself tremble, and he grips Sirius' shoulder tighter than necessary, hauling himself upright. For Sirius it was some stranger, an unidentifiable body with candy hearts shoved inside. But for James...for James it was Souji, dead on the counter and sliced open like a piece of meat. It's a nightmare. It's worse than a nightmare, because it's all right there and too real for words. Sorrow builds in him until he snaps and lets it out.

"No. ...No, Souji! Souji!"

There's no response. He moves like he's going to pull away from Sirius and rush over, but as soon as his weight shifts it becomes apparent that he's still very unsteady on his feet so ultimately, he doesn't. He hovers there, unsure of what to do. He's still wide-eyed and horrified and paler than he's ever been.

He looks at Souji the way he would if it were Sirius or Remus there, or even Peter.

But then, he can't look anymore. With a shaky breath, he shuts his eyes tight and tries his hardest to keep from outright sobbing.

Nothing about this okay.

Nothing about any of this is okay.

The moment James moves as if to pull away, Sirius tightens the grip on his shoulder - which is just as well seeing as James decides to stay where he is.

Something dark and ugly wretches up in Sirius' stomach and he instinctively moves closer to his friend, other hand white knuckling his wand. They're out in the open now. They're exposed and James is bleeding out and there is a dead bloody body in the counter and none of this is okay.

"We're going back."

And that's all there is to it. Less than a minute upstairs and already he's seen more than he ever has and hopes he will ever have to see again.

Alas, if only, but still while we're on the subject? Muggle murders are so vulgar. All murder is, but this? Carving each other open and stuffing chests with-

He's going to be sick.

But they have to apparate back because he is sure as shit not taking another step anywhere upstairs.

Sirius can see the toll it's all taking on James, even just from a physical perspective. He's very hurt and his strength is draining by the second, and now, on top of the sudden emotional trauma..he's really not fit to travel but they don't have a choice.

"We have to do it again, I'm sorry. Just trust me."

And it's a good job Sirius is any good with his abilities because he's pretty sure James doesn't have the strength to carry himself. They land back in their room with an unceremonious collapse but they're not spliced together and it's safer than going outside so rough as the ride had been it remains the better option.

Still, now they're back in the room, that still begs the question of what are they supposed to do. and it seems to be, in that long stressed moment, a saving grace that the device Sirius found on his person when he arrived (the muggle phone or whatever that he hasn't really used) makes a noise from it's perch on his bed.

Network updates, voices of panic and proclamations of blame, accusations, apologies, chaos, panic, fear, death-

But it reminds him that it exists, that he can contact people without going looking for them, and he scrambles for the thing as quickly as he can, thumbing through for anyone, anything useful.

"Prongs, stay with me, okay?"

There's a very nasty something swelling up in his chest, fear and sorrow and rage. What if that had been one of his friends laying there...what if...what if!

"Hey-" He says sharply and returns to his friend's side. "Hey, do you remember that time we went to see the Falcons play Puddlemere United in Falmouth? Do you remember?"

Edited 2014-02-19 12:21 (UTC)

At first, James looks like he's going to protest. They can't just leave him here, not like that! They can't leave him behind!

But...there isn't much of a choice, is there? James can barely stand, and Souji is already dead. They can't change that; they can't make him less dead somehow by moving him or bringing him along. James hates to leave him sprawled on display that way, but...he has no way to move him.

It occurs to him then that his wand is still on the floor of their room, where he landed. He only had one working hand at the time so he'd let go of it so Sirius could help him stand. So not only does he have no way to move him (even if he would have to use his other hand to do so), but he's entirely unarmed. And who knows where the killer ran off to?

"...Right," he finally nods. "Right, okay. It's okay. I trust you."

He hangs onto Sirius even more tightly. His whole body is already protesting because although it's easily been the longest minute of his life, it's still only been a minute since the last time and there is not a single bit of his being that actually wants to apparate again so soon, not now. But they have to go. There's no time to waste, not when their own lives are at stake.

The ride is rough and the landing is rougher. They collapse together and James cries out when they hit the ground. He tries to stifle his reaction for Sirius' sake, but it hurt so much he actually saw white this time.

But, his overall affect is different now. He doesn't make any moves to try and get up this time. He still feels a little like he's swaying, even though he's laying on the ground, but knows that any other position is going to be infinitely worse. He feels sick to his stomach, but it's a very peculiar sickness - if he keeps himself still he's fine, but even the thought of moving makes him want to gag. If he does, he's very sure he's going to throw up.

He's a bit too quiet there.

It's very hard for him to think now. There's a fuzz in his head that's difficult to push through. He's paled considerably since he first turned up wounded, and he's lost a sense for exactly how long ago that was now. But it's a very sick and ghostly pale. His breathing is heavy and quick, and he's cold to the touch. He feels shaky, and he can feel his heartbeat pounding through him, as his body tries desperately to get whatever's left of his blood where it needs to be.

He's still bleeding out. His wounds are leaving a new puddle in the carpet and he can vaguely feel it forming under him.

Suddenly, he's pretty sure he might actually die. He hadn't thought the injuries were serious when he'd received them, but he's bled so much...bled so much it's hard to think now, hard to stay conscious. He's exhausted. He wants to go to sleep, he really wants to, but he's trying to hold on. Even if they revive, the thought of dying still terrifies him. What if...what if he doesn't...?

Prongs, stay with me, okay?

Sirius sounds far off, and James isn't sure if he actually heard him or if maybe he just dreamed it. Maybe he really did fall asleep there, but no - no, he still feels more tired than he's ever been.

But then Sirius is right next to him and so clear and how long has it been since that last conscious thought? He cracks his eyes open and lazily looks up at him.

"...Huh?"

He's got just enough energy to give him a look, not because he doesn't recall but because he can't put together why Sirius would be talking about Quidditch of all things right now. The logical leap that it's to try and keep him awake and thinking is just not coming to him at all.

But he answers anyway, slowly, and nods very slightly.

"Yeah...yeah. Mm. ...I remember."

Edited 2014-02-19 19:38 (UTC)

Nobody is dying. James is not allowed to die, that isn't a thing that can even be considered because it is beyond the realm of Sirius' comprehension.

"Who won? I always forget." He asks, still thumbing through the news feed, quickly scanning each entry, fumbling through the mechanics of the device, itself.

Ah-

Finally, he finds something useful and hits reply. It's some kind of recording, which is fine, and he holds the device low and close.

"Hello?! I need you're help." He asks and fumbles the device, trying to figure out just what, exactly, he is doing.

"I don't know how to-- bollocks. Hello?! Seventh floor, room one." There are no pleasantries, no introductions because there just isn't time. There is barely time to even speak and he turns the thing around to highlight just why that might be.

He turns the device back on himself and begs for help, "Please-- Please come now!"

His dearest friend in all the world is close to death and Sirius has absolutely no idea what to do. He can't help, he doesn't know the first thing about healing and even if he did, he can't remember a single spell in his panic. A single spell. It all just blindly mushes together and none of them are healing spells and shit- how can he be so useless that he doesn't know a simple thing like that?!

"James..." He's scared to touch him but he needs to keep him awake. Needs confirmation, anything. Fear is tugging tears into the corner of his eyes but he can't- He can't let it consume him. He's stronger than this and he knows James is as well. This won't be the end of him. It can't be.

"Healer is coming.. He's almost here, okay?" He hopes. Prays.

"Tell me, who won the game?"

Edited 2014-02-20 01:31 (UTC)

"Um..."

He shuts his eyes again, and tries his hardest to think. His thoughts are so far away from that day, from that match. It requires more concentration than he possesses - most of his strength has been going toward not passing out. He's very aware of the feel of carpet under his good hand, the weight of his body, anything that might ground him and remind him he's still here. Still alive. That heartbeat is still pounding in his head, through his whole body.

It all leaves him quiet a little too long though and his focus drifts away. He can hear Sirius but he can't really see what he's doing, so he carefully lolls his head in that direction. Sirius is still there, right? He sounds close but like he's talking to someone?

"Who's...?"

Who's that? Who are you talking to? But he strays before the sentence is over and leaves it trailing off. He's answered quickly enough though - it was a Healer; there's a Healer coming.

...Wait, there's a Healer coming? But Souji's dead, and Martha's likely still dead, and he...he really can't think of anyone else. Souji had been his last hope - so who could this possibly be?

He doesn't argue though. He's too tired to argue. How could he possibly argue when he's lying on the floor breathing hard like he's run for miles. He trusts Sirius with his life, so there must be a Healer coming. Somehow. Sirius said so, so there must be.

Then Sirius is asking him about Quidditch again and oh, right. The game. Who won that game...? It takes him a minute, but then -

"Pud...Puddlemere."

No, come on. Breathe. Full sentence.

"...Puddlemere United won. It...it was close though. Really close."

Edited 2014-02-20 07:16 (UTC)

[[Continued HERE]]

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VALENTINE'S DAY CATCH ALL 12th-17th

2/14 | James Potter | Closed to Sirius

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