Post by gemma on Aug 7, 2012 23:14:11 GMT -8
[Note: It was my idea. (see Quinn's note) XD Also, thanks to this awesome song for letting me listen to it on Repeat about a thousand times while I wrote this post.]
For a moment, Gemma thought she'd actually won, or at least come close. The Cruciatus Curse was more effective than even she'd imagined, and she found herself smiling ferally -- without even really knowing why -- as Alistair suffered, his face and hands contorting in agony. She dug her fingers harshly into his chest, forcing the strength of the spell through them into him, her breath coming faster and faster, more and more harshly. This was like a purge... a purge of emotions, of fear, of all the pain she herself had suffered... and all of it was going into the man before her.
It was liberating.
"Does it hurt?" she snarled at him, her dark eyes lit with an unholy light, "Does it burn?" She was reaching for her wand, hoping to cast the spell again with it and achieve even better results, when Alistair's wrist flicked.
“Petrificus Totalus!”
She fell.
All the fear, the pain, came rushing back from her prey, back into her, as she found she couldn't move. She couldn't even breathe, somehow... how was it that she was alive, then? She'd never felt the effects of this spell before, and it was all her nightmares of being bound, being unable to fight, all rolled into one. She lay at Alistair's feet, her dark eyes huge in her deathly-pale face, completely at his mercy. He lunged for her, making as though to strangle her, and Gemma screamed... or tried to. No sound left her; her mouth couldn't even open... only her eyes could move, and they rolled in fear like those of a spooked horse.
If she could just get past her fear, though... if she could just focus enough to break this spell... she could be free.
You've got to try, Gemma! Focus!
“Obscuro!”
Her fear tightened like a noose as suddenly she couldn't see... or hear... She couldn't even taste. Everything was... blank. She had no idea what was going outside of the frozen, masked prison of her own body, but it couldn't be good... nothing could be good, not in this private hell within her mind. Adrenaline spiked. Her unseeing eyes opened wide, stretched to their limit, as though sheer size would enable her to see. The internal feeling of her body spasmed, fighting against the spell-made stiffness, trying to break the spell through physical strength alone.
It won't work... I have to fight with my mind, not my body...
But her mind was in utter turmoil, her emotions crowned as the agonized queen of her own self. She wrestled with them, but it was like wrestling a dragon: all sharp scales and fire and endless size in comparison to her small frame.
You have to win! You have to! Because if you don't...
Her mind strained, cramping almost, fighting to the limit of her strength...
... if you don't...
Had she been able to move, she would've been thrashing about as though burning...
... you'll never see him again...
... Orion...
And that was what gave her the key. Her husband, the man she loved, the one who had rescued her so many times before, many times without even his knowledge. Only this time, it was something she'd learned from him, a tool he'd given her, rather than any physical saving on his part.
Occlumency, Gem... she seemed to hear him say, The ability to control ones emotions. Now... put a stop to that emotional waterfall of yours, and do what I tried to teach you.
Yes...
The sharp pain against her leg startled her terribly, and for a moment she lost the resolve to use this new method of fighting. What in the world was happening outside of her own mind? Why was she in pain? But the little frustrated sigh from within the depths of her mind refocused her.
Don't pay attention to that fool, Gem, her mental Orion murmured to her, Ignore him. Don't focus on anything but your goal.
Yes!
Her eyes squeezed instinctively shut, blocking out light she couldn't even perceive. She couldn't breathe deeply to calm herself, the way she'd been shown, but she managed to perform the mental equivalent: soft flutters within her mind, waves that slowly but surely pushed her maelstrom of emotions out of its whirlpool and into the corners of her mind. There they were soothed, petted, and boxed away for later use, gradually leaving her mind empty of all but her determination.
Good. Now. Get yourself out of this.
Finite Incantatem!
She could breathe again. She could move again. She could see again... just in time to see Alistair's boot come down on her forearm, shattering both fragile bones there. Gemma screamed in agony, her body arching upwards as though to escape... but somehow, the very ability to make sound again was beautiful, even though the pain destroyed the cages that held her emotions in one blow. She was back in the hurricane... she had left the eye of the storm and returned to the destruction.
Her maimed arm flopped uselessly, on fire with pain, even as her other hand, her left -- had Alistair destroyed her right so that she couldn't do the very thing she was doing? -- reached across her curled body, fumbling as it slid her wand out of her other stocking. She had it up and between her and Alistair in instants, her dark eyes burning the air between them even as they poured tears of agony.
"Expelliarmus!"
The Disarming Charm definitely wouldn't stop him from physically harming her again, but for some reason it was the first spell that popped into Gemma's head. She had a sudden memory of Professor Blackthorne telling the class in Gemma's sixth year that it was an under-appreciated spell, one that could stop one's opponent without harming them. A noble spell.
Well, that won't do at all, then...
"Incarcerous!"
Thick ropes flew from the end of Gemma's wand, right at the Disarmed man above her.
That's more like it...
For a moment, Gemma thought she'd actually won, or at least come close. The Cruciatus Curse was more effective than even she'd imagined, and she found herself smiling ferally -- without even really knowing why -- as Alistair suffered, his face and hands contorting in agony. She dug her fingers harshly into his chest, forcing the strength of the spell through them into him, her breath coming faster and faster, more and more harshly. This was like a purge... a purge of emotions, of fear, of all the pain she herself had suffered... and all of it was going into the man before her.
It was liberating.
"Does it hurt?" she snarled at him, her dark eyes lit with an unholy light, "Does it burn?" She was reaching for her wand, hoping to cast the spell again with it and achieve even better results, when Alistair's wrist flicked.
“Petrificus Totalus!”
She fell.
All the fear, the pain, came rushing back from her prey, back into her, as she found she couldn't move. She couldn't even breathe, somehow... how was it that she was alive, then? She'd never felt the effects of this spell before, and it was all her nightmares of being bound, being unable to fight, all rolled into one. She lay at Alistair's feet, her dark eyes huge in her deathly-pale face, completely at his mercy. He lunged for her, making as though to strangle her, and Gemma screamed... or tried to. No sound left her; her mouth couldn't even open... only her eyes could move, and they rolled in fear like those of a spooked horse.
If she could just get past her fear, though... if she could just focus enough to break this spell... she could be free.
You've got to try, Gemma! Focus!
“Obscuro!”
Her fear tightened like a noose as suddenly she couldn't see... or hear... She couldn't even taste. Everything was... blank. She had no idea what was going outside of the frozen, masked prison of her own body, but it couldn't be good... nothing could be good, not in this private hell within her mind. Adrenaline spiked. Her unseeing eyes opened wide, stretched to their limit, as though sheer size would enable her to see. The internal feeling of her body spasmed, fighting against the spell-made stiffness, trying to break the spell through physical strength alone.
It won't work... I have to fight with my mind, not my body...
But her mind was in utter turmoil, her emotions crowned as the agonized queen of her own self. She wrestled with them, but it was like wrestling a dragon: all sharp scales and fire and endless size in comparison to her small frame.
You have to win! You have to! Because if you don't...
Her mind strained, cramping almost, fighting to the limit of her strength...
... if you don't...
Had she been able to move, she would've been thrashing about as though burning...
... you'll never see him again...
... Orion...
And that was what gave her the key. Her husband, the man she loved, the one who had rescued her so many times before, many times without even his knowledge. Only this time, it was something she'd learned from him, a tool he'd given her, rather than any physical saving on his part.
Occlumency, Gem... she seemed to hear him say, The ability to control ones emotions. Now... put a stop to that emotional waterfall of yours, and do what I tried to teach you.
Yes...
The sharp pain against her leg startled her terribly, and for a moment she lost the resolve to use this new method of fighting. What in the world was happening outside of her own mind? Why was she in pain? But the little frustrated sigh from within the depths of her mind refocused her.
Don't pay attention to that fool, Gem, her mental Orion murmured to her, Ignore him. Don't focus on anything but your goal.
Yes!
Her eyes squeezed instinctively shut, blocking out light she couldn't even perceive. She couldn't breathe deeply to calm herself, the way she'd been shown, but she managed to perform the mental equivalent: soft flutters within her mind, waves that slowly but surely pushed her maelstrom of emotions out of its whirlpool and into the corners of her mind. There they were soothed, petted, and boxed away for later use, gradually leaving her mind empty of all but her determination.
Good. Now. Get yourself out of this.
Finite Incantatem!
She could breathe again. She could move again. She could see again... just in time to see Alistair's boot come down on her forearm, shattering both fragile bones there. Gemma screamed in agony, her body arching upwards as though to escape... but somehow, the very ability to make sound again was beautiful, even though the pain destroyed the cages that held her emotions in one blow. She was back in the hurricane... she had left the eye of the storm and returned to the destruction.
Her maimed arm flopped uselessly, on fire with pain, even as her other hand, her left -- had Alistair destroyed her right so that she couldn't do the very thing she was doing? -- reached across her curled body, fumbling as it slid her wand out of her other stocking. She had it up and between her and Alistair in instants, her dark eyes burning the air between them even as they poured tears of agony.
"Expelliarmus!"
The Disarming Charm definitely wouldn't stop him from physically harming her again, but for some reason it was the first spell that popped into Gemma's head. She had a sudden memory of Professor Blackthorne telling the class in Gemma's sixth year that it was an under-appreciated spell, one that could stop one's opponent without harming them. A noble spell.
Well, that won't do at all, then...
"Incarcerous!"
Thick ropes flew from the end of Gemma's wand, right at the Disarmed man above her.
That's more like it...