Post by Shadow Clearwater on Nov 17, 2007 15:47:40 GMT -5
((just posting this because I'm bored, and because I amd actually really proud of it))
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The hooded figure walked slowly down the dark streets of Drakborough. The night was young yet the stars seemed not to shine, as the mist shrouded them from view. All was silent, except for the soft sound of a footfall against the cobbled ground.
From beneath the hoods rim, two icy-blue eyes stared out. Bright, yet their aura was cold and confusing to read. They were watching the alley-ways closely, for any sign of life. But the figure seemed to be the only living matter around.
The figure knelt down on the cold floor, silent and in mourning. The hands lifting back the hood to reveal the saddened face. A young man, dark, messy hair and pale skin. Shadonious Clearwater. He was well known around these parts; not for the good he had done, but for who he was.
A follower of the serpent, the house of Salazar, the fallen dark lord. He was a death-eater non-the-less, and the blood running through his veins was sinful because of that.
Yet, as he knelt on the ground-he dropped his head into his hands. If one was to look close they would see the pain and hurt in his expression. His pain was spiritual, emotions not physical actions. But Shadow would not cry, he would not.
Shivering, he felt his muscle tense. The cold was intense. He stood up, drawing his wand and pulling the hood back over his head with his free hand. He lowered his wand in confusion, he could see no-one. Shadow snarled softly, gazing upwards as he heard another noise.
His eyes widened, his heart beating furiously against his chest. They've found me... Raising his right arm, he pointed his wand into the sky-but-there was nothing to aim at. Breathing deeply, he slowly began walking backwards, keeping his stare at the sky and his wand ready.
"No, no, no...!" he stammered, falling back against the wall. From the pale glimmer of moonlight he could see the shapes gliding along the air currents. The beasts that had no emotion, once like Shadow himself had claimed. He had been wrong. Dementors...
They've taken my everything....I have no more for them!
Fear was tickling his throat, making its way slowly through his body. All his life, he had been training for this-preparing himself on what to do. He couldn't even remember what he was suposed to do. These creatures of darkness had taken everything from him-his whole life. They were the reason he felt like this, they were the reason he was alone...
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Shadow yelled, as the largest dementor swept down towards him. Nothing happened. The silvery wisp of light blew away with a non-exsistant breeze as the cold around him intensified. It felt like he was been captured, like all the hope and warmth in him was been sucked out and replaced with ice.
Shaking in fear, he tried again. His spell MANLOVED once more. His breath was heavy as though he was trying to compose himself. Yet, he knew he could do nothing.
A sudden scream in his mind deathened him inside. His life played before his eyes like a movie. His beatings as a child passed on, each hit from his father as real as it had been. The death of his mother, and of his sister Lily. Each memory distraught and lifelike. And then the worst one came. The new memory still haunted his daily life, now it was replayed back to him as clear as crystal.
He watched again, as the familiar cloaked darkness swept down upon someone. He watched as it stole his love, she meant more to him than anything. And she had been killed, for they were after him-not her. The sight of her corpse killed him emotionally. Gwen...
Opening his eyes, he attempted to produce his patronus again. STill, only a whisper of sound came from his mouth. The dementor was upon him, bearing down upon his head. Feeling dizzy, he tried to swipe at it-yet he could never reach it. Stay awake, Stay awake!
The silvery light drifted from his open mouth as he exhaled deeply. His eye-lids fell heavy over his orbs. He was too weak. They had won.
'Dark wizards never were good at conjuring a patronus.'
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The hooded figure walked slowly down the dark streets of Drakborough. The night was young yet the stars seemed not to shine, as the mist shrouded them from view. All was silent, except for the soft sound of a footfall against the cobbled ground.
From beneath the hoods rim, two icy-blue eyes stared out. Bright, yet their aura was cold and confusing to read. They were watching the alley-ways closely, for any sign of life. But the figure seemed to be the only living matter around.
The figure knelt down on the cold floor, silent and in mourning. The hands lifting back the hood to reveal the saddened face. A young man, dark, messy hair and pale skin. Shadonious Clearwater. He was well known around these parts; not for the good he had done, but for who he was.
A follower of the serpent, the house of Salazar, the fallen dark lord. He was a death-eater non-the-less, and the blood running through his veins was sinful because of that.
Yet, as he knelt on the ground-he dropped his head into his hands. If one was to look close they would see the pain and hurt in his expression. His pain was spiritual, emotions not physical actions. But Shadow would not cry, he would not.
Shivering, he felt his muscle tense. The cold was intense. He stood up, drawing his wand and pulling the hood back over his head with his free hand. He lowered his wand in confusion, he could see no-one. Shadow snarled softly, gazing upwards as he heard another noise.
His eyes widened, his heart beating furiously against his chest. They've found me... Raising his right arm, he pointed his wand into the sky-but-there was nothing to aim at. Breathing deeply, he slowly began walking backwards, keeping his stare at the sky and his wand ready.
"No, no, no...!" he stammered, falling back against the wall. From the pale glimmer of moonlight he could see the shapes gliding along the air currents. The beasts that had no emotion, once like Shadow himself had claimed. He had been wrong. Dementors...
They've taken my everything....I have no more for them!
Fear was tickling his throat, making its way slowly through his body. All his life, he had been training for this-preparing himself on what to do. He couldn't even remember what he was suposed to do. These creatures of darkness had taken everything from him-his whole life. They were the reason he felt like this, they were the reason he was alone...
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Shadow yelled, as the largest dementor swept down towards him. Nothing happened. The silvery wisp of light blew away with a non-exsistant breeze as the cold around him intensified. It felt like he was been captured, like all the hope and warmth in him was been sucked out and replaced with ice.
Shaking in fear, he tried again. His spell MANLOVED once more. His breath was heavy as though he was trying to compose himself. Yet, he knew he could do nothing.
A sudden scream in his mind deathened him inside. His life played before his eyes like a movie. His beatings as a child passed on, each hit from his father as real as it had been. The death of his mother, and of his sister Lily. Each memory distraught and lifelike. And then the worst one came. The new memory still haunted his daily life, now it was replayed back to him as clear as crystal.
He watched again, as the familiar cloaked darkness swept down upon someone. He watched as it stole his love, she meant more to him than anything. And she had been killed, for they were after him-not her. The sight of her corpse killed him emotionally. Gwen...
Opening his eyes, he attempted to produce his patronus again. STill, only a whisper of sound came from his mouth. The dementor was upon him, bearing down upon his head. Feeling dizzy, he tried to swipe at it-yet he could never reach it. Stay awake, Stay awake!
The silvery light drifted from his open mouth as he exhaled deeply. His eye-lids fell heavy over his orbs. He was too weak. They had won.
'Dark wizards never were good at conjuring a patronus.'
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