Skull de Mort Ch 5: All a game of cat-and-mouse
OK, so, after the disaster that was the last chapter, I've made some changes to the way this story is going to go. It'll move a little faster, and, hopefully, will flow better into the rest of the story.
In happy news: I've now got a Beta! The lovely blood-elf101 has agreed to help with editing and fleshing out ideas for this fic! Which means, for you guys, no more of the disaster that was chapter 5.
I hope you enjoy this chapter, and remember to review please! ^.^
~~~OOO~~~
There were many aspects to becoming one of the Arcobaleno. A candidate had to be thebest in their field (be it scientist, stuntman or even artist). A candidate had to be the strongest of their flame class. A candidate must have a strong resolution, because upholding one third of the Tri-Ni-Sette was nothing to laugh at. A candidate must have something that made them unique, that made them more than just another ordinary mortal. And finally, a candidate mustn't have any major attachments to the world in which they lived.
An Arcobaleno candidate had to have all of these qualities, and that was only for the initial selection. They would then go through months to years of team missions, some with everyone, others with only two or three, however long it took to develop the relationship needed to survive under the Arcobaleno Curse, not that the candidates knew that.
This is why the Arcobaleno were so rare. Not every generation got a set, so, often, the Tri-Ni-Sette would be split up between the Vongola, the Giglio-Nero and Checkerface nurturing the pacifiers, with his own flames, until the right people were able to once again take up the curse.
The current Arcobaleno generation was the first in roughly 200 years. This had both benefits and disadvantages. In the 200 years since the last generation, the Mafia world had managed to convince itself that the Arcobaleno were nothing more than a legend, a myth passed down through the years to scare the misbehaving Mafia Children. This meant that, when Arcobaleno re-appeared, no one believed it, just dismissing it as bored Mafia members trying to stir up trouble for the rest of them.
The current generation of Arcobaleno took 10 years to warm up enough to each other to even think of considering themselves a family. Of course, Checkerface was desperate by then, and gave them the curse after only 3 years of team building, his flames having been depleted to dangerous amounts.
In an attempt to speed up the team bonding, Checkerface assigned six of the seven Arcobaleno a research mission. They were all given the name of one teammate, and they had to work together to find out as much as possible about him or her. The one they were researching, had to do their best to hide as much as possible, creating a game of cat-and-mouse that went on for almost 50 years.
And as for the person they were researching, well, Skull had always been a master of hiding in plain sight…
~~~OOO~~~
When all of the Arcobaleno, with the exception of the Cloud-Candidate Skull, were summoned to a meeting in the café where they first met 6 months ago, they were confused to see a man with an checker-board patterned mask sitting in the lackey's spot.
Shooting him some weird looks, but sitting down in their "normal" seats, despite only having gathered there 3 times previously, they tried to ignore the strange person intruding in their space.
The atmosphere was quick to become awkward, and, after 5 minutes in which no-one had said anything, the stranger finally spoke up.
"OK, now that you've all settled in, you're curious about why I've called-"
The stranger was cut off by everyone, all shouting variants of "What do you mean, 'You called'?!"
Waiting until everyone settled down, again, the stranger began again.
"I've called you all here to give you your only long-term team mission. It's a research/reconnaissance task. All you have to do is find out who Cloud Candidate Skull de Mort really is. It won't be easy, and he can't know that you're snooping into his history. Use any tools you have access to, and take as long as you need. Good luck. You're going to need it."
With that somewhat ominous farewell, the stranger left the café.
~~~OOO~~~
"So, all we have to do is find out some secrets about the Lackey? Pssh, this'll be the easiest mission we've ever completed." Reborn, is his typical style, had completely brushed off the stranger's, or "Checkerface" as they'd decided to call him, vague attempt at a warning, convinced that the Lackey was no more harmful than an annoying house-fly.
Fon just looked at Luce, trying to see what she thought of the new task, and was quite startled. Luce's eyes were glazed over, half-shut, and her face was quite slack. It looked like she'd…. died… in her chair. He jumped out of his chair, and quickly began checking her vitals…. Which were all fine.
Everyone else, shocked by Fon's out of character fussing, looked over, trying to figure out what was wrong. When they saw what he was doing, they too began to panic, not that they would admit it if asked.
Reborn and Fon carried Luce over to one of the booth chairs, laying her down, looking at her confusedly. She appeared dead, but she was alive? How did that work? They resolved to sit and wait, constantly monitoring her vitals to make sure she stayed alive, but, other than that, they couldn't think of what else to do.
An hour later, Luce woke up, looking as though she'd seen hell.
~~~OOO~~~
The day had started out normally for Skull. Wake up at a ridiculously late time (usually around lunchtime), go to the near-by mountains to let off the magic that had built up (being the Master of Death meant that he had a massive power increase, one he could barely handle), the go to Luce's house for a cup of tea and a gripping discussion of some ethical topic. Last week it'd been abortion, Luce was pro-life, Skull was pro-choice.
That's where the day turned weird. Luce wasn't in her home. Her right hand man, Theta, told him that she'd gone to a meeting, and didn't know what time she'd be back, but it wouldn't be for a while.
"OK. Thanks for the help Theta. Sorry to bother you."
"It's my pleasure, Mister De Mort. Shall I pass a message to Madam Luce that you'd dropped by?"
"If its not too much trouble. Have a good day!"
Feeling mischievous, Skull, quickly darted in for a hug, dodged the resulting bullet and ran off, cackling like a hyena.
~~~OOO~~~
"*Huff huff* Why, *huff* is the, *huff* town, *wheeze*, so far, *huff* away?!"
Skull, in a moment of hyperactive-ness brought on from bullet-dodging adrenaline, had run all the way from Luce's mansion to the local town. An effort that he was now severely regretting. Stuntmen just needed to be light and flexible, stamina wasn't anywhere on the job requirements. Therefore, the last time Skull had done any lung-burning, rib-stitching exercise had been during the Blood Wars, and he wasn't about to go dredging up those memories from their murky depths.
Shaking his head to get rid of the depressing thoughts, 'Don't think about that, don't think about it and it'll go away like everything else', he ducked into the nearest café to hopefully sooth his painful throat.
Sitting down at a random table, he didn't see the other Arcobaleno candidates in one of the booths behind him.
~~~OOO~~~
"Luce! What's wrong? You look like death warmed over!" Exclaimed Lal, worried about her fellow female teammate.
Luce had just 'woken up' from her weird dead-alive moment, and her scared expression worried all the others, who had never seen her appear anything less than pleasant.
"The one born with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives… the one born with the power to vanquish the Dark lord approaches…"
Somewhere near them, a shocked, sharp breath and the sound of shattering glass could be heard, but they paid it no mind.
Luce wasn't quite sure what happened. One moment, she'd been listening to their new mission, the next, she'd been barraged with images of a War, people launching brightly coloured lights from polished sticks.
*flash* Another image
A bald man with no nose and piercing red eyes facing off with a… a boy with black hair and emerald eyes.
*flash*
The same boy, crying and screaming at some curtains in a giant black room, a weary looking older man holding him back.
*flash*
The black-haired boy being held in a basement… 'dungeons?', screams in the background accompanied by the sound of mad cackling.
*flash*
A graveyard. Rows up rows of freshly dug and marked graves. The black haired boy, no, man, because no boy could go through what little she had seen and remain a boy, knelt in front of two in particular, shoulders shaking and tears dropping onto the Earth beneath him.
Here lies Ronald Bilius Weasley. A good brother, and trusted friend. May he finally see the Chudley Canons win the Quidditch World Cup. 1980-1997
Here lies Hermione Jane Granger. "Books, cleverness, there are more important things, like Courage and Bravery". 1979-1997
*flash*
Little, ugly, creatures sneering as they watched a document being signed, the words too blurry to make out past "Identity change ritual: Permanent".
*flash*
Purple everywhere.
~~~OOO~~~
Out in the main dining area of the café, Skull was enjoying his iced chocolate when he thought he heard Lal, of all people. Looking around, just to convince himself he was hearing things, 'It wouldn't be the first time, would it, Harry?', he spotted all of his fellow teammates in a private booth slightly to his right.
Drink in hand, he made to walk over to the booth to see what had Lal's panties in a twist, when he heard the worst thing that had ever happened in his life.
"The one born with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives… the one born with the power to vanquish the Dark lord approaches…"
Everything shuddered to a halt. Skull, caught up in the fact that someone knew the prophecy!, didn't notice when his drink slipped from his numb fingers, or when he started screaming. All he knew was that he had to get out of there, and hopefully get home, before his magic, which still had the tendency to lose control with his emotions, caused something disastrous to happen, and him to be found by the mages who were surely looking for him (he was once Harry Potter, after all).
~~~OOO~~~
"No! No! NO!"
Luce didn't know what was going on. One moment, she seems to be watching someone else's, Harry Potter's, life, and the next, she can hear someone screaming denials, and the sound of tables and chairs being hastily pushed around.
A wave of exhaustion washed over her. Suddenly receiving someone else's memories took its toll, and Luce gladly shut her eyes, falling into a deep slumber, ignorant of the hysteria surrounding her.
~~~OOO~~~
Even as Skull managed to half run, half stumble out of the café, he could feel his magic instigating a sudden redesign of the interior. Knowing that this huge, and unexpected output of magical energy would be setting off alarms in the Italian Ministry of Magic, the Ministero della Magia, Skull gave up running and collapsed in the middle of the road. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the realization that all of those years of hiding, of denying his past, denying himself, had been for nothing set upon him.
Skull didn't look up when a large series of bangs, like cars backfiring, filled the air. He didn't look up when he was grabbed by his arms, and hauled to his feet by one of the Italian Hit-Wizards. He didn't look up when he could hear people calling his name. He did, however, look up when there was another series of loud cracks, and people with British accents began yelling at the Italian Hit-Wizards, screaming about him being "Harry Potter" and a "British citizen, and therefore under British jurisdiction".
Thrashing around, desperate to escape his impending capture by the British Aurors, Skull doesn't see the red light streaming towards him. All he knows is that the world is turning black, as he slips into unconsciousness.
~~~OOO~~~
Even from within the private booth of the café, the gathered Arcobaleno could hear the noise from the street. Colonello and Mammon, bored now that Luce had fallen asleep, went to see what all the fuss was, expecting it to be a thief that'd been caught, or something similar.
They were not expecting to see their Lackey surrounded by people wearing the strangest clothes, all holding sticks flashing bright red, blue and green lights. They were not expecting to see their Lackey grabbed by one of the strangers speaking English.
They were not expecting to see their Lackey, their Cloud, abducted in the middle of the street, and all of the strangers vanishing into thin air directly after.
~~~OOO~~~
Blinking his eyes blearily, trying not to give into the nausea that the stunning spell caused upon waking, the first thing Skull noticed was white. Everything, from the smock he was wearing, and where were his clothes?!, to the flowers on the desk next to him, was white.
Then the smell hit him. The overpowering smell of disinfectant, bleach and potion residue that was unique to Magical Hospitals.
Turning his attention into himself, Skull began the tedious, and drawn out (for him) task of checking every nook and cranny of his own body for signs of tampering.
Starting with his feet, and working his way up, he began with the obvious checks. Bandages, cuts, new scars, anything that wasn't there when he was unceremoniously kidnapped was recorded. His wrists freaked him out though. Rather, the new, heavy, silver cuffs on his wrists freaked him out. A closer look revealed that they were heavily engraved with all sorts of Runes.
'I'm really regretting taking the easy way out at Hogwarts. Why didn't I study Ancient Runes instead of divination?' Skull lamented.
He spent the next three hours trying, using every method he could think of, to remove the cuffs. Simply tugging them only gave him an electric shock, which he ignored. Biting them, and trying to pry them apart had no results either. Flooding the bands with his magic got a reaction, though. A very painful one.
Shaking from the pain, Skull eyed his cuffs warily. He didn't know who put them on, he didn't know why they were there. He did not know why they hurt him. He only knew that they weren't going to be coming off any time soon.
He looked up at the sound of curtains sliding across, and saw a man who was the dead ringer for Rufus Scrimgeor standing there.
"Hello Mr. Potter. I'm Minister for Magic Arthur Scrimgeor the Second. I see the Aurors finally managed to find you, and bring you home. You've been gone a long time. Many think you're a legend now, a story to tell the children at night."
Skull tuned him out, focusing back on his cuffs. There had to be some way to remove these blasted things!
"Ah! I see you've noticed your new cuffs. Fascinating things, aren't they. We found them in the Black family vaults, after we seized them when you were declared dead. Such a lucky find, slave bands. They'll keep anyone exactly where you want them. I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this, can't you?" He leered, chuckling slightly at Skull's rapidly paling face.
"Oh you can! You are a smart one after all! Now, I'm sure you've worked it out, but, while wearing those bands, you'll have to do everything I tell you-"
"NO! You can't do this! I'm Skull de Mort, the world's most famous Stuntman! I'm the Cloud candidate for the Arcobaleno! I'm-"
"You are Harry Potter, the Ministry's new poster boy." Arthur hissed. "You are Harry Potter, my new puppet. Your life is now mine to do with what I wish, so you will be silent when I am speaking!" He roared.
Skull kept trying to yell, to scream, to say anything, but at the Minister's command, it was as though someone had cast a Silencio on him. For all he was moving his lips and tongue, not a sound made it past his lips.
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Cloud attuned flame holders are like that which they are named after. They cannot be held down, cannot be trapped, cannot be caught. What the minister had done was unnatural, but he had power, and power can do many great things. Terrible, oh yes, but great.
~~~OOO~~~
And, that's the end of this chapter. So, the story is finally beginning to move along. I was not expecting it to turn out this dark. Don't worry, there won't be any slash, or sexual actions of any kind (because I don't know how to write it, mainly).
Hehe. Arthur Scrimgeor the Second. I wanted his initials to represent his base character. Don't ask, it was written with no planning.
Anyway, I hope that this chapter is better than its previous version (because that had been My Immortal worthy, honestly).
I have no excuse about why there was such a long delay, so all I'm going to say is life.
In case anyone is confused, "dead ringer" is slang for "spitting image" If you were to say "She's a dead ringer for her mother" you're saying "She looks exactly like her mother". I'm unsure if that's just Aussie slang, or if everyone uses it, so yeah, the little explanation ^.^
Have a great day everyone!
Until next time.
Love-Is-Cyanide