caleb figg

the lads‌:

“Oy—hope you brought enough to share,” Wren motioned to Caleb and  his flask, laughing in delight at the excessive nature of his friends’ attacks. He twirled his hand between his fingers, eyes narrowing at a figure approaching Mads from behind. He shot off a quick bone breaking hex, watching the attacker drop to the ground with satisfaction, “Interrupting our fun—some people have no fucking manners, do they?”

The exterior of the shop was now almost fully ablaze, and Wren figured it’d only be a matter of time before whatever explosives were in the shop helped them finish the job. Still—–his wand arced downward and a powerful blasting hex was sent towards the shop, impacting with the large, Weasley-esque figure that graced the ahead above the entrance. A loud crack sounded as the head split from the—quite frankly, gaudy—-puppet’s body, and people underfoot scurried to get out of the way as it crashed to the street in front of the shop.  Wren looked on, bemused, at one unhappy wix whose leg appeared to be pinned under the head.

“Well really—-that’s just shit luck, isn’t it?”

It was like being back at Hogwarts again─ camaraderie and feeling invincible in those few moments of chaos after a brawl. Sweat rolled down his temple and felt like blood; he blinked and saw the Quidditch stands, but they were gone in an instant.

Crack. Was that spell or the bones of the crumpled figure behind him? Mads looked between them, shoving them back with his foot and performing a quick restraining spell sans wand. “Cheers,” he replied, scanning their periphery for any other attackers. Nearly forgot that people with hero complexes exist.

He tilted his head, following the massive weasel head’s trajectory, and didn’t blink when it pinned someone. He looked around again, taking the opportunity to ward off any incoming threats though many seemed to be fleeing.

“Why’re they all running?” Mads whined, pocketing his wand when it shot off a glitter bomb instead of the knee-removal he’d intended.

The combination of both the thrill the fire brought as well as the smell of Caleb’s cigarettes, made Cas take a short break, shaking a stick out of his own pack and lighting it with his wand. With a muttered spell, he let the small flame flicker and grow into a bigger one, aiming it at the fallen puppet’s head with a grin. 

He wished it was a real Weasley that was on fire, not just a hideous statue of one.

“I think it’s more fun when they run,” he noted, the fire in his back, wand aimed at whichever heroes thought they’d be able to stop them. ( And even if they would — the damage was already done. It’d been laughably easy — they had almost been asking for it. )

A hex or three were sent at the more daring people in the crowd, and then a big blast towards a group of huddled people. And then — a whizz, a crash, a boom. Cas turned on his heel, cloak whipping at his ankles, and watched the first bit of firework explode into more clashing colours. And like a child on Christmas day, he let out a roar of excitement.

The glitter twinkled madly against the licking flame behind them and Caleb couldn’t help but loose a chuckle at the whining complaint in Mads’ voice. He took one last swig, casting a glance to Wren and raising it in a mockery of a toast. “There’s always plenty to go around, mate.”

Holding the cigarette to his mouth he fired off a few more curses, a quick protego making a returning hex glance off harmlessly. He instinctively ducked as the fireworks erupted behind him, leaning his head back to laugh once again as they bounced wildly off the other shops and the pavement, lighting up the alley in brilliant colours and striking a few of the more unlucky wix attempting to flee. 

the lads‌:

when: january 5th, 2024; 10:31am where: diagon alley who: the lads! @spltlippd @calebfigg @casworan

The scene devolved quickly into madness; cries and confusion filling the air, and Wren gave a sideways grin to his friends as they spelled their way to their goal. The extended Weasley and Potter families were the most obvious targets, and Wren wouldn’t begrudge his peers who went after them, wands blazing; but his father always said there was more than one way to skin a Kneazle, and there were other ways to wound the Order—particularly, strike at their morale.

And if Wren got to blast that ghastly storefront off the face of the earth while he was at it, all the better.

“Time to put on a show, yeah?” He called to the masked figures standing with him, wand raised. Fire erupted from the tip, coiling in the air as it gathered strength and mass before hurtling through the air to its target—-the front windows of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes shattering upon impact, flames licking at the frames and quickly climbing as a new wave of startled screams rang out.

Elation. That’s what he was feeling, wasn’t it? The same giddiness he’d felt at the punchline of his father’s favorite joke─ how is a niffler like a Sunday roast?─ as dozens of the thieving beasts poured from smoking dams. Bubbles rising to the surface of his skin, scratching to escape. Forgetting to breath. Yeah, that.

It was a bit of the same thing. How is a niffler like a Sunday roast? How is a niffler like a weasel?

You smoke them.

“ Reckon they’ve got the blue fireworks that look like a coiled occamy? ” Mads hummed at his companions. The wind was in his veins, tugging towards his wand. It hesitated and he wondered, for a moment, if it’d do a perfect impersonation of a hose to spite him.

A single massive ball of fire spat out the tip and hurled itself towards the storefront.

“ My bad! ” he called cheerfully to the people his fireball hit on its journey. One of them was well on fire.

Cas imagined – for a short moment – the reactions those wretched Weasleys when they saw their pride & joy ablaze. It made him almost happier than the sight of the first bursts of fire licking at the store. He would pay good money to see them weep and rage and look at the charcoal remains of this … well, he barely wanted to call it a store. 

He twirled his wand between his fingers before letting a rope-like string of fire leave the tip of it, hitting the upper store windows, licking at the orange and purple and he laughed an almost giddy laugh and wondered out loud, “Who decided on this horrific colour scheme?” before aiming once again, now through the broken windows. 

Head turned to Mads for a second, considering his words. “It’s exactly what a day like this needs — a wonderful firework show at the end of it all. We’re giving the people what they want!”

Caleb focused carefully on the smoke perched behind his ear, plucking it gently between his index and middle fingers and placing it to his mouth. Glass shards skittered like hailstones around his feet as the windows exploded from the heat, the light of the fire set them glittering while he retrieved his wand from its holster. He muttered a small lighting charm, a tiny flame springing to life as he took a deep inhale, the perks of evading a full mask. 

The crowing of his boys filled the air amongst the screams. He was a fixed point amidst the chaos, Mads’ ever unpredictable wand hurling a characteristically massive and careening ball of flame after Wren’s, a whip of it curling then from Cas. 

Letting air replace the smoke in his lungs and filling his mouth from his hip flask he stepped forward, closer and closer still till he felt the heat become unbearable. He raised his wand and a huge cloud of flame poured upward from his mouth as the alcohol sprayed through the spell he’d readied, one ridiculous striped arm catching as the fire engulfed it. 

where: outside of twilfitt and tattings, diagon alley when: january 1, 2024 who: open

“Can you believe we’re all stuck here because a few muggle-loving terrorists decided to attack an upstanding citizen like Mr. Urquhart?” Gemma spoke offhandedly, her voice carrying through the alley as she perused the jewelry in the window display, “Who do you think they’re looking for? My money’s on Teddy Lupin—seems like the savage sort of thing werewolf spawn would do.”

“How appropriately barbaric of a display in favour of muggles, no less.” Caleb’s voice was pitched lower than hers, his hands clasped in the small of his back. “I mean these days it could be anyone and you just wouldn’t know. Worrying.”

❝ If I cannot become better, I will become so much worse. ❞ LORENZO ZURZOLO? No, that’s actually DARRIEN CALEB FIGG. Only NINETEEN years old, this SLYTHERIN alumni works as a PURVEYOR OF POTION INGREDIENTS and is sided with THE DEATH EATERS. HE identifies as a CIS-MAN and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be RETICENT, APATHETIC, and SELF-INDULGENT but also REFINED, FASTIDIOUS, and CALCULATING.