Broderick "Brody" Bode

44 | Order of the Phoenix | Unspeakable

[darkxwithin]

Jumping the gun || Rosemary & Brody

[bad-boy-brody]

darkxwithin:

Rosemary stands there impatiently waiting for him to make an appearance. It’s not an ideal situation and one which could quickly escalate. She isn’t stupid though, with rising tensions and knowing exactly where Brody works, she has to be really careful not to bring attention to herself. So whilst she holds little compassion for those who cross her or those who hurt the ones she is particularly fond of, Rosemary knows it’s a dangerous turn of events if they start casting spells at one another.

Her dark hues immediatealy turn to him and her jawline sets into a fixed position. A gentle movement of her right arm is enough for her wand to slip down the inside of her jacket and into her hand.

“Do you really want to go there, darling?…because if anything comes out of that wand of yours, I will make it my lifes work to see you endure the most agonising experience you would never be able to imagine.”

Many many scenarios go through Rosemary’s mind during the day and all of them are very dark and some might refer to them as ghoulish and sadistic–and yes, she does carry the odd one of two out. It satisfies her needs after all.

Fortunately at the moment, she does possess rather good restraint and she is quite internally smug about that.

“Oh things have already gotten ugly.”

She steps even closer to him and her top lip raises a little as she gives a sneer.

“You’re a sneaky little bastard aren’t ya…here and there…nobody really knowing in detail exactly what it is you do…well I have been trying to think of who could be behind the latest incident..the poisoning of some of my friends–and well some of those I really couldn’t give a shit about….”

The small space which existed between them is now even smaller.

“So you talk!…you start explaining what exactly you had to do with all of this!

Rosemary curls her fingers into a fist and throws a punch at him.

“Nothing like a good ol’ fisticuffs for starters, to wake you up and speak the truth!”

He noted the wand which slipped into her hand. It looks like things probably were going to get ugly but he didn’t really mind that much when she’d broken into his home. Brody’s eyebrows shoot up at her threat and he shifts his grip on his wand slightly, watching her warily. “I don’t know, I can imagine a lot.” The words are jovial but his tone is anything but, his eyes deadly serious. Who did this woman think she is, breaking into his house, making demands and uttering threats? “You’ve wasted half your time already.” Fair warning seemed fitting, though she really didn’t deserve it. 

The woman keeps advancing on him and the things she says keep getting crazier and crazier. He keeps enough of a distance between them that he can still see all her movements, enough of a seasoned fighter to know not to let someone to get right up in your face. He frowns when she keeps talking, making more accusations about his job and then, for the cherry on top of the ridiculous sundae, she implies that he has something to do with the poisoning. He’s had about enough of this and is about to tell her that when she throws a punch. Watching her as he had been, Brody saw it coming, so he dodges and fires a spell at her. “Locomotor Mortis!” The Leg-Locker curse was generally pretty effective in at least immobolizing your enemy, so long as it lands. 

“You didn’t listen to me. I said explain what you’re doing here, not make crazy accusations and threats. Merlin’s teeth, I had nothing to do with the poisoning! Every Unspeakable at the Ministry has a mysterious job, it’s in the description. Now, let’s try this again. Who the bloody hell are you and where do you get off making these crazy accusations?” He was pissed, sure, but he also wanted answer so Brody couldn’t let his temper get too out of check, at least not yet. 

[darkxwithin]

Jumping the gun || Rosemary & Brody

[bad-boy-brody]

darkxwithin:

Poisoned?–how the hell dare anyone attempt something on such a magnitude level as this?

Rosemary couldn’t remain at work once finding out these details. Instead, the brunette witch has paced the floor back and forth for the past hour as she mentally chastises herself into not doing something which could jeopardise her place serving the dark lord.

–oh but those thoughts just will not stop circling. They weave in and out of each normal passing moment, enveloping them and making it impossible to maintain the facade she sometimes likes to portray.

A list of names roll over and over–possible suspects of who was behind it all.

There’s a slight hypocritical point of view because if the poisoning would have happened to people she doesn’t really care for—and there’s plenty of them, then Rosemary wouldn’t have been particularly bothered.

She rules out any Death Eater because, until evidential betrayal is present, Rosemary is a believer in thinking nobody would do such a thing to a fellow Death Eater.

One possible culprit does spring to mind.

Broderick Bode…

She’s watched him–she’s observed him and has done a little snooping around where he is concerned. He can have a temper and has been known to act rashly. One major factor though is his damn place of work. It’s too hush-hush and Rosemary is far too inquisitive to be left in the dark over things.

So with the mood she is in and her frame of mind at the moment, she goes marching around to his place of residence, not being too concerned about waiting to be welcomed inside either.

“Broderick Bode…get your bloody arse in here right now!”

@bad-boy-brody

Things had really been going to hell lately. It wasn’t a very wizardly saying, but Brody’d been raised with a certain amount of Christianity before having his eyes opened to the wizarding world so he occasionally fell back on old habits. It was an appropriate way to describe things right now. Granted, they were in the middle of a war so if things weren’t going to hell it would have been surprising but this really took the cake. First a little girl is murdered and then people on both sides (at least, presumably) get struck down by a mysterious illness which turns out to be a poisoning. Who would go after people on both sides? Who even knew who was on both sides and what was the point in targeting only a few people? None of it made much sense and Brody was, for once, not at work or at Order headquarters and found himself in his own flat, ruminating in his study. This really just meant that he was sitting at a desk, staring very intently at a particular spot on the wall and smoking but everyone worked things out differently. 

That was until his alarm spells went off at about the same time his door slammed open and an unfamiliar female voice demanded his presents. What in Merlin’s name? He was up out of his chair in seconds, wand out and pointed at the intruder as he walked into the room. She looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place it at the moment and she was actually lucky she was getting words instead of just a spell. Brody especially wasn’t the kind of person to take kindly to someone barging into his place unannounced and uninvited. 

“You have about ten seconds to explain yourself before this gets ugly. Talk.” He was already in a dueling stance and while he preferred fists, and may well have straight up attacked a man physically if he’d come in here so rudely, he gave women slightly more leeway. Maybe it was old fashioned, but he couldn’t seem to help it. Still, he was mad as hell and wouldn’t give her much more slack if she didn’t explain and fast. 

[bad-boy-brody]

Enough is Enough | Brody & Alastor

[bad-boy-brody]

talldarkandmoody:

Alastor had been in his office for the better part of the evening. His heart was broken, chest raw where the shards now lay. He was exhausted, with the kind that took root in the very marrow of your bones filling them with a lead so heavy there was no chance of functioning. He was far from the right kind of mood a leader needed to be in to face his people and given which office he was seated in, the solitude was best.

His head hung heavy against large palms when the brief reprieve was short lived when a well and truly pissed off Broderick burst in. It was a testament to his current state of mind that he didn’t bother lifting his head. Couldn’t care about the silencing charm, had no energy to dance this tango again… they’d been here too many times before.

The truth was, he had no idea how to stop it. There were no witnesses, no leads, no suspects, nothing. When he finally raised his eyes to look at his old friend, the headline blurred the corner of his vision, the sight of her pinned to that wall forever burned into his eyelids… “By all means, Broderick. Go, go on a rampage to find the sick son of a bitch who did this, pin him to the wall right next to that girl’s body. Go on, leave.” The anger rose in him like bile, this shit wasn’t helping. “Just answer me one thing: Who did it? Who is it you’re going to string by the balls for doing this?”

Brody managed to notice, even with all his pent up rage, that Alastor looked like a balloon someone had deflated. The other wizard didn’t even lift his head from his hands when Brody stormed in which was a fairly clear indication that Alastor was deeply affected by this, just clearly in a different way from Brody. While it registered, Brody didn’t give a shit right now. Someone needed to answer for the death of this child and since Brody didn’t, at the moment, know who’d been directly responsible for it, he was going to take it out on Alastor. Unfair, certainly, but Brody was long passed the point of caring about fairness. 

Though it was delayed, Alastor’s anger did rise to the surface, which was better, really. They could have it out now and Brody wouldn’t feel like he was just beating someone who was already broken down. At least Alastor still had enough fire to get pissed at him which was all Brody needed. “The second I get my hands on him, you can be damn sure I will.” He shook his head at Alastor’s attempts to diffuse him by pointing out that they didn’t know who it was. “I don’t know, but we will find out. Someone has to know something. Make a public statement that her death will be avenged. Step out of the bloody shadows and show the world that there’s a force fighting against this kind of thing! At least that might give people some hope that the same won’t happen to their children!” Brody paced as he talked, gesticulating wildly with his hands, too worked up to contain his emotions or his actions. 

“We go public, we’ll have more resources. People will be able to turn to us, to get information to us. We can cast a wider net. You have to see how necessary that is, especially now.” It was an updated version of an old argument but surely, surely this would force Alastor to see what Brody saw, that they needed to make a statement and show this “Rebellion” that they weren’t just going to run roughshod over the wizarding community, that there was a force fighting back. Brody figured it was about time that side was afraid, for once. 

[bad-boy-brody]

Reconnaissance | Brody & Edgar

[bad-boy-brody]

ehhdgarbones:

It wasn’t often in the wizarding world that fights were a physical thing. With magic at their disposal, they were more prone to duels. Quick draw jinxes and hexes lacked the kind of intimacy easily found in beating someone’s face into the back of their head. Edgar was a better duelist than most, but he still preferred the close quarter combat of fisticuffs.

In spite of what he’d seen or heard of Broderick Bode, it came a surprise to discover that he was also partial to a good fist fight over flourishing wands at each other. If he wasn’t so busy getting his face pummelled by Brody’s fist, he might have appreciated the fact they had that in common. 

There was an audible crack. After several hits to the same surface area, either bone or cartilage gave under the unrelenting assault. He grit his teeth against the flashes of white hot pain, each impact striking hard like lightning with an ache rolling like thunder through his nerve endings. Adrenaline muted the pain, but he’d be feeling it once they’d hashed this disagreement out. 

A shift in position locked Brody’s arm around his neck. His bicep and forearm closed around his trachea and Edgar gripped his arm with both hands, his fingers circled around Brody’s wrist. Instead of trying to pry his arm from around his neck, he hunched forward, crouching low so that Bode would have to bend over Edgar’s back in order to maintain the hold. One side step was followed by a sharp twist of his body, loosening Brody’s arm and releasing him from the choke hold while maintaining his grip on Bode’s wrist.

Edgar used the inertia of his swift movements to unbalance Broderick. When he popped out from the choke hold, he still had a firm grasp on his wrist and the older wizard doubled over from the sudden disappearance of Edgar’s body to hold him up. Taking advantage of his momentarily open position, Edgar kept a tight grip of Bode’s wrist to keep him in his folded position as he brought his knee up hard in his face.

The whole shift took seconds, but when Edgar re-emerged it was with the taste of his own blood in his mouth and ferocious retribution. Every punch Bode had beaten into his face was repaid in kind.

Something cracked in his side from the relentless assault to his ribs and every breath after that sent stabbing pains through him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had cracked or broken ribs before but it was never something he enjoyed. At least the adrenaline of the fight was keeping him functioning for now. Brody’s choke maneuver worked for a time, at least immoblizing Edgar so he could continue punching his face relentlessly before the other wizard pulled a quick trick on him and Brody found himself bent over with his wrist captured and quickly receiving a knee to the face. Brody’s head snapped back, eyes watering as blood gushed from his nose. He tasted the iron tang on his lips and cursed inwardly, even as Edgar kept coming, clearly intent on paying back those punches to the face. 

Brody’s vision cleared after a few hits and he managed to dodge more after that, sure that his face looked like a complete mess. At least Edgar’s did too, he thought with some satisfaction. Ducking under his opponent’s arms, he pulled a move seemingly similar to Edgar’s bull rush and made like he was going to tackle him. Of course, Brody didn’t have the same strength or size that Edgar did and couldn’t be nearly as successful so he suddenly veered around Edgar and swept at his legs with one of his, hoping to bring him to the ground. With the way the rain was making the cobbles so slick, it was a move that should prove successful. 

[bad-boy-brody]

Reconnaissance | Brody & Edgar

[bad-boy-brody]

ehhdgarbones:

Everything was reflex, instinct. Brody closed the distance between them and the world slowed to a crawl as adrenaline rushed to respond. Edgar could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he turned to face the older wizard. Everything else, though, subsided to white noise. There was nothing else. No rain. No cold. Only Broderick Bode and Edgar’s unflagging desire to beat his face in. Here was his chance. There was no time like the present.

A shove sent water splashing as Bode skid backwards some steps. In the slowed state of suspended time, Edgar noticed everything. The anger in Brody’s eyes, the water dripping over his face, his fists at his sides and how he raised them. He knew what was coming. He was ready.

He dodged out of the way of the first swing, leaning back so that Brody swung wide. The second punch was swatted aside by his forearm, deflected and pushed away. Edgar left himself open for the third strike he hadn’t seen coming.

Stars shot across his vision as knuckles met the bridge of his nose and pain stabbed through his face in pulsing ripples. He felt skin tear open and knew he’d be sporting some unsightly bruises under his eyes –among others if things kept up– by the end of the day. His eyes were swimming when he snapped them open again. A grin carved over his mouth.

Edgar roared an angry, thunderous, bestial sound as he bull rushed Bode. His shoulders were low and he tackled his middle, pushing the other man back, back, back until he was slammed hard into the opposite wall. His shoulder pinned him to the brick, the arm wrapped around him held him in place as Edgar throttled his fist into Brody’s ribs again and again and again.

There was a certain clarity that came with every fight, an almost hyper sensitivity where Brody became very aware of not only his opponent but everything around him. It was important to keep your environment in mind in every fight, in case there was something you could use against the other person or, at the very least, to make sure you didn’t leave yourself more open to injury because you stepped somewhere you shouldn’t have. Even as he threw his punches, Brody was aware of the alleyway they stood in in a way he hadn’t been before and the rain was less of a factor and only mattered in that it might make their footing a little more unsure. It was something he hoped to use against Edgar at some point. 

The first two punches missed but the third one hit home and Brody smiled grimly as no doubt Edgar’s vision was clouded and took the opportunity to land more blows. It didn’t last long, however, since Edgar essentially bull rushed him back into the opposite side of the alley. The impact knocked the air from his lungs momentarily and he let out an audible grunt. Getting his breath back wasn’t helped along by Edgar’s relentless attack on his ribs but Brody gritted his teeth and bore it until he could breathe properly again and then was all action. 

In spite of being pinned to the wall by one of Edgar’s shoulders, he could still move his arms relatively freely and took the opportunity, since Edgar had lowered his considerable height for the tackle, to pop him several more times in the face before he wrapped an arm around his neck to try and get him in a choke hold. 

[bad-boy-brody]

marvelousmarley:

“Of course we are, it seems like everyone is.” Marlene’s bitter mood seemed to have simmered down a bit, not wanting to pick a fight with anyone she knew. Her eyes flickered down to his bloodied knuckles, a frown slowly spreading across her features. “I don’t want to be that person, but I don’t think people seeing you with bloody knuckles is going to help them feel any better about the situation.” she understood why he got in a fight. Sometimes, Marlene wished she could do that. Stroll into a place and pick a fight  to get rid of the disgusting anger that literally made her blood boil. Try as she might, she simply could not. Not because she couldn’t defend herself, it was more of a fear of who would see her act out and how word of mouth of the Unruly McKinnon spread around like wildfire.

There was no point to ask if he knew anything. No one did. She also did not want to risk asking the very question a million and one people have probably already done. Things have gone from bad to worse and it seemed like no one had any answers to anything. It was a terrifying thought to know that no one knew what was coming next. Marlene thought it would never get this bad. No, it wasn’t supposed to - but it did and the situation was out of hand. If it happened once, it was bound to happen again. History had a bad habit of repeating itself.

“Come, walk with me.” the sun was beginning to set and Marlene didn’t want to be alone. She wasn’t headed to anywhere in particular, just going until she was too tired to walk back home. In a way she was trying to walk away from the thoughts that seemed to bombard her if she sat alone for too long. “We can be pissed together and I can see if I can fix that hand of yours before anyone sees. It’s not too bad, but I’m sure it hurts.”

“If they’re not, I’m seriously questioning them.” It was too grim to be a joke and Brody would see it as a moral judgement if someone wasn’t righteously upset about the death of a little girl. It just further proved to him just how bad the people they were fighting were and that he was undoubtedly on the right side, no matter how frustrating that side might have been for it’s seeming inactivity at the moment. When she mentioned it, Brody turned his hand over to look at his knuckles and scoffed. “Will anything?” He took another drag from the cigarette and let the smoke out long and slow, almost like a sigh. “You’re probably right.” It was a grudging sort of admission and now that he was starting to get back to an area where people would recognize him, it would become more of an issue. He was getting to a point where he didn’t really care about that, though, the anger still bubbling in his blood. It didn’t seem like it was going to go away any time soon. 

They were silent for a bit, both probably lost in their own dark thoughts, and Brody finished his umpteenth cigarette. He’d stopped counting, just knew that he hadn’t quite finished his pack yet. He probably would before the night was out. He could also go get black out drunk but that was less helpful and he wanted to be alert, now more than ever, so he was just going to have to figure out how to deal with this somehow and still function like a normal person. This was had just taken a pivotal turn and he couldn’t help but feel that there was so much worse yet to come. The thought made him want to scream and cry at the same time. 

Marlene asked him to walk with her and he nodded, dropping the cigarette butt and crushing it under his heel before they moved on. Maybe it would be better not to be alone right now. At least she could share in his anger and grief, they seemed to have similar feelings about it, after all. “I barely feel it.” Brody was so used to having bloody knuckles that the sting barely registered anymore. That didn’t really speak well of his lifestyle, but there it was. He felt desperate questions bubbling up but there was no use asking them because Marlene wouldn’t be able to answer them anymore than he or anyone else could. “We have to keep this from happening again. I don’t care whose kid she was, we can’t let any more die.” He went with a defiant vow instead, because at least he could pretend they could keep that promise, even if chances were good they couldn’t. He’d do his damndest to make sure they did, though. 

[bad-boy-brody]

Enough is Enough | Brody & Alastor

Ever since he’d read the Daily Prophet and seen the images of a weeping mother on it’s pages, a low, simmering anger seemed to have settled into Brody and stayed. It exploded out a lot more than his usual temper and there’d been quite a few bar fights just to get some of it out, but even with that it never really seemed to go away. No one’s child should be murdered, no matter who they were, and even the Travers’ didn’t deserve such a fate. There were people to blame for this, too, and Brody was storming through the Order of the Phoenix headquarters to go yell at one of them. The look on Brody’s face must have been formidable because people were actually scattering as he walked by them but Brody didn’t care. If this wasn’t proof enough that more needed to be done, Brody didn’t know what was. 

A copy of the Daily Prophet was crumpled in Brody’s fist and though Alastor was sure to have already seen it, Brody wanted it with him to make his point. His jaw was clenched so tight it was starting to give him a headache and he could almost feel the rage radiating off him. Their last meeting had actually been a good, friendly one and it was a shame there weren’t more like that, but this one was bound to be another argument. Maybe this time, he’d actually get through to Alastor. 

Finally reaching Alastor’s office, Brody barged in unannounced, closing the door firmly behind him. He waited just long enough to cast an Imperturbable Charm on the door, so people wouldn’t be able to hear them yelling, before he started. He took a few steps over to Alastor’s desk and threw the Daily Prophet down on it. “This is what happens when we don’t do anything!” He practically snarled, pointing an accusing finger at Alastor. “Do you think they’re going to stop at killing kids on their own side? It’s just a matter of time before all kinds of kids are showing up dead and if we don’t bloody well get going, it’ll be blood on our hands for not stopping it! To hell with your secrecy now, Alastor, we need to act and fast. We can’t let this happen again!” 

@talldarkandmoody

[bad-boy-brody]

Reconnaissance | Brody & Edgar

[bad-boy-brody]

ehhdgarbones:

It didn’t seem possible to dislike someone as much as he did Broderick fucking Bode. Yet here they were, with the other wizard near the tippy top of his shit list. The only reason that he hadn’t acquired the number one slot was because that spot was specially reserved for Lucius Malfoy. There were years of contempt to compete with, and Bode wasn’t quite there yet. 

Yet.

Wiggling his toes, Edgar grumbled to himself, cursing about the water that had managed to find its way into his boot. The rain was still coming down hard and not showing any signs of relenting. That his socks were now wet on top of everything else only served to sour his mood even more. Another impossibility disproved. Look at them. They were setting records.

He leered at the house across the way. Even if he refused to say it out loud, Edgar knew that Brody was right. The windows were dark and they hadn’t seen any movement in hours. Either there were underground passages or no one was home. Still, he refused to reconsider his position on the matter. 

At Edgar’s inquiry about whether or not he was planning to contribute something worthwhile to the group, the air shifted around them. The steadily rising tension skyrocketed so fast it broke the sound barrier. Something snapped between them. The other man whirled in his spot and erased the space between them in a furious rush. 

The hairs on his neck bristled. Edgar’s heart kicked into high gear, punching indignantly at his sternum. At last their fun repartee had come to a head. Better judgment had disappeared with the snap of tension. Now all they were left with was their short tempers, foul moods, and serious dislike for one another. This could have only ended one way. They’d finally made it to the breaking point.

Top lip curling back into a snarl, Edgar pushed himself off of the wall he’d been leaning on and turned in place to meet Brody head on. He glared at the older wizard, dislike a deafening whoosh behind his ears that put even the pouring rain to shame. A half step was taken in Brody’s direction, closing what little space stood between them and placing them toe to toe.

“Back. Off. Bode,” was Edgar’s deadly growl. 

If he wasn’t deaf to it already the voice of reason inside of his head would’ve warned him against touching the other wizard. As it was, Broderick had charged him like he wanted to throw a punch and Edgar’s rage couldn’t be stamped with reason. Not until one or both of them were bleeding. 

Both hands lifting from his sides, he shoved Brody square in the chest hard enough to skid him back a step or two. There was a sneer on his face all the while, a challenge for the other man to give him his best shot. A fight with Broderick would be the cherry on top of an exciting and riveting assignment. 

All bets were clearly off now, though Brody had pretty much made sure of that when he stormed over and closed the distance between them. They both seemed to want this fight to get physical, or at least that was where it was inevitably headed, so might as well speed things up a little. At least it would give them something to do that wasn’t just standing in the rain being miserable. It was sad when a recon mission was so boring you had to start a fight with your partner to liven things up. 

Things were, however, definitely livening up, as evidenced by the snarl on Edgar’s face as he pushed off the wall. He had a lot of height on Brody, there was no denying that, but he’d fought bigger (and more) at the same time before, so he wasn’t particularly worried. At the very least, he had years of experience on Edgar when it came to fighting just because of being older and the life Brody’d lived. There were inches between them now and the adrenaline that came before a fight was pumping through his veins full tilt, just waiting for Edgar to make that first move so he could retaliate and then some. All he did was growl, first, but then there was a shove and that was the cue. Granted, he had to stumble back a little from the force of the shove, which really meant he splashed backwards, but it was exactly the excuse he needed to start letting loose. 

“Make me.” He hissed, even as he came back with a couple quick punches aimed at Edgar’s face. Always go for the nose first. It breaks easy and even if it doesn’t, it’s impossible to get hit in the nose without having your eyes water and fucking up your sight, at least momentarily. 

[bad-boy-brody]

marvelousmarley:

It took a lot to make Marlene angry. Reading and rereading the article did nothing to improve on her mood, neither did going downstairs and watching her family whisper to each other, or hear her mother tell her friends with children the same age as the little darling to not let their little ones play outside unsupervised. She knew the family was at the top of The Order’s list, but this…this was unexpected. She didn’t know what was going on and that, of course, made her more irritable than usual. After muttering a quick goodbye to her family she rushed down the street, her mood worsening the more she heard people whispering about it.

What made it worse was the article. Seeing a mother weeping broke Marlene’s heart into a million pieces. She knew they were on the wrong side, she knew they had darkness down in their very cores but…this was atrocious to think they could even go that far. The thought sparked another train of thought: if those who belonged in their group weren’t safe, were others? Probably not. Marlene couldn’t stand to look in the face of people she knew, mothers and fathers with children at Hogwarts that Marlene had once babysat when they were children.

This prompted her to take a longer path. She didn’t exactly know where her destination was headed, but she was alone and it gave her time to sit and let everything run through her mind a few dozen times. Marlene’s train of thought was disrupted when she walked into someone, staggering backwards and glaring at the other. “Oi! Watch it! Pay attention where you’re walking.” she was being a hypocrite and she knew it, but she was not going to apologize.

It really didn’t take that much to make Brody angry. Sometimes, a wrong look in a bar was all it took and he was up in someone’s face. His temper had been a problem for a long time and he tried to curb it but holding things in generally just resulted in a bigger explosion later, so maybe a series of small explosions was really best for everyone. But this, and the implications of it, were certainly deserving of an explosion and a big one at that. Sure, the Travers family were almost certainly Death Eaters, but no child, no matter the family, deserved to die. If Brody was being really honest with himself, he didn’t think any family deserved that either, no matter how evil. Not to mention the fact that if this is what they were willing to do to people on their side, what the hell were they going to start doing to muggleborns and halfbloods and anyone they didn’t deem worthy? It was terrifying but had Brody spitting mad at the same time. 

His bloodied knuckles told the story of what he’d done with that anger. Unless it happened in The Three Broomsticks (which Brody tried to avoid, since it upset Rosie), Brody generally had his bar fights in muggle London. He’d just come from a bar in the East End, where it was always easy to get into a fight, and that had at least taken the edge off his anger but it still simmered below the surface as he chain smoked furiously and walked, like if he walked long and fast enough he’d feel better about things. It hadn’t worked so far. At least in muggle London, no one knew he worked for the Ministry and he didn’t have to worry about upholding that reputation. 

Someone crashed right into him and Brody stumbled a little, eyes flashing and about to snarl an insult (and maybe get into another fight) when the voice that beat him to it a) was a woman’s, and b) was familiar. “I could say the same to you.” It was still gruff, but not as harsh as he might have been had it been a stranger, plucking the cigarette from between his lips and blowing out a stream of smoke away from Marlene’s face. “I’m guessing we’re pissed about the same thing.” 

[maplefiasco]

[bad-boy-brody]

three-course-dessert:

[curiouswildi]

[bad-boy-brody]

curiouswildi:

[bad-boy-brody]

toujours-purs-black:

“That’s a very interesting thesis. Not that there aren’t scholars who agree with you, but it’s hotly contested. You’d be amazed what’s hotly contested in the world of academia.” It was usually best to avoid these kinds of conversations, so Regulus simply shifted the discussion. It was a conversation style that was practically required if you were one of the great houses of the magic community. Just having a party was dangerous, you had to become adept at skirting awkward issues. “He’s … unique.” Regulus’s smile was a little sad for a moment before he banished it. He wasn’t even supposed to speak his brother’s name. He laughed a little at the word ‘shite’ because he’d never heard anyone call Godric Gryffindor something like that before. “He was a warrior and I don’t think he cared much about being kind so much as being great and brave and strong. It was a different time, more dangerous, maybe kindness and racial sensitivity weren’t an option.” Regulus just shrugged. “They all had their faults. None of them were perfect. Rowena was by all accounts a dreadful parent. Helga would side with people she liked over people she knew to be right. They were just people.” Brody seemed sure, in the way of people who thought they were scarier than they were, that he was a sight to behold. “If you say so. I’m sure you know best.” 

“I’m guessing just about everything.” He’d known some scholar in his day, since a lot of his housemates had gone on to become just that. Brody was somewhat familiar with the debates that went on in those circles and he found it funny and interesting at the same time he was glad he wasn’t doing that as a profession. There was a flash of sadness that came over Regulus when they kept talking about his brother and he used an interesting descriptor for him. If he hadn’t talked about his brother in the present tense, Brody might have assumed he was a casualty of the war but that didn’t seem to be the case. “I’ve heard most siblings are, not that I would know.” Regulus could ask him questions now, if he wanted, and take his mind off of whatever it was about his brother that made him sad. At least he was laughing again a moment later. “In my book, the best heroes are all of those things and don’t let one of them slip to be better at the others.” Such heroes likely only really existed in stories, but it was nice to have an ideal to try and live up to, even if Brody himself fell monstrously short. He’d never tried to be a hero, anyway, he just wanted to do what was right. “I guess nobody’s perfect. It’s kind of comforting.” The founders were so legendary that it was kind of nice to find out they had their flaws too, aside from some of the obvious or more well known ones. “So what else do you like doing, apart from extensive research on the Hogwarts founders?” Brody figured it was probably best if they stopped talking about what he was like when he was angry and changed the subject. 

[bad-boy-brody]

After Work | Brody & Arielle

[bad-boy-brody]

bewarethesirenscall:

Arielle cocked a brow but didn’t say anything further. She’d heard of Hogwarts houses but wasn’t familiar with them, or the traits behind them. A thirst for knowledge was clearly one of Ravenclaw’s traits given the way he was talking about his job. At his question, she couldn’t help but stifle a giggle behind black acrylics. “The accent didn’t give it away?” Arielle asked coyly, “I’m from France. Paris, to be precise.” 

She looked almost questioning at the mention of his Hogwarts house but she didn’t ask so he didn’t elaborate. It was hard to remember sometimes that not everyone had gone to Hogwarts, there were other schools, after all, but it seemed more like an exception to the rule. Arielle mentioned her accent and Brody’s eyebrows went up a little. “It clearly should’ve. I’m obviously more tired than I thought.” Of course she was from France, he should’ve realised. “Isn’t Paris just as busy as London? I’ve never been, but I can imagine.” 

[bad-boy-brody]

Reconnaissance | Brody & Edgar

[bad-boy-brody]

ehhdgarbones:

“No one that we know of,” Edgar countered when Broderick argued, again, that there wasn’t anyone inside of the building. Just because they hadn’t seen any activity in or around the structure in all the time they’d been surveying it didn’t mean that it was empty. All it meant was that they hadn’t bloody learned anything yet. 

If he took a moment to reflect, Edgar could acknowledge that he was frustrated over that, too. The unforgiving volley, that was thunderous in its umbrage, wasn’t helping matters any either. He was as wet as he was cold, and it was all he could do to keep full body shudders from making his teeth clatter. But, right that second, the bulk of his frustrations could be blamed almost singularly on the man hunched at the alcove’s opposite side. 

Edgar’s agreeing grunt was drowned out by the downpour. On that at least they understood each other. Sitting in torrential sheets of icy water in present company wan’t Edgar’s idea of a good time either. Not that there was anything to be done for it now. They had a job to do. As long as Brody didn’t flummox it up.

His rendition of facts was met by sarcasm and Edgar bristled. Thick arms tightened around the wide expanse of his chest, and his fingers curled into fists. His palms stung as his nails dug into the skin. With his teeth clenched hard, his nostrils flared and Edgar closed his eyes in an ineffective attempt to keep his temper in check.

Through grit teeth, Edgar grumbled, “We are doing something useful.” He said the words but annoyance far outweighed his conviction. The truth was that he didn’t like standing in the rain staring at a house while nothing happened. He did want to do something useful. But if that meant agreeing with Broderick fucking Bode, he’d sooner get pneumonia.

If only he’d been paired with either Frank or Ted, hell even one of the younger Order members would’ve been more preferable than him. “Do you have any suggestions beyond us going in blind? Or is complaining the only contribution you’re planning on making today?”

Brody felt like he could roll his eyes so hard they’d be in danger of falling out of his head. Yes, he supposed it was technically possible there were people in the building, but they were the quietest people ever and clearly very fond of the dark, since they hadn’t seen any light in any of the windows the whole time they’d been watching. The evidence seemed fairly strong that no one was there and that the best use of their time, then, would be to search the building and see what they could find. But Edgar apparently wanted to stay out here while the heavens did their best to try and drown them where they stood. Great. 

“If anyone’s in there, which I highly doubt, they’re the least exciting person there is unless everyone’s accessing the place through underground passages.” The tension was rising between the two wizards, though it had been fairly high to start out with. Glancing at his unwanted companion, Brody saw how he’d clenched his fists and part of him itched for a fight. At least they’d be doing something, though it wouldn’t be very productive. As long as Brody’d been part of the wizarding world now, he still got into plenty of fights with his fists. It felt more personal, more satisfying somehow. 

Edgar tried to convince him that they were doing something useful and Brody barked a humorless laugh. “That’d carry more weight if you sounded like you believed it.” That was the other maddening part of this; Edgar probably hated standing around as much as Brody did and was just denying his ideas because he didn’t like him or wanted to spite Brody. It was fucking annoying and didn’t calm his mood at all. He’d only glanced back at the still utterly silent and dark building for a moment before Edgar spoke again, accusing him of complaining, and Brody couldn’t help himself anymore, whirling around and closing the short distance between them. “At least I’ve given a suggestion that might be halfway useful. You’ve done fuck all except stand here and piss me off.” Closing the distance was a terrible idea but Brody was too pissed to care, his own fists clenched now under his sopping wet cloak. One more accusation or snarky comment and Brody was going to do something about it, that is if Edgar didn’t start it first. He almost wanted him to. At least then he’d be able to truthfully tell Alastor he hadn’t thrown the first punch. 

[bad-boy-brody]

mayapatil:

She’s only slightly surprised by the fact he’s a Ravenclaw having pegged him for a fellow Gryffindor at the mention of him being quite the fighter for the ability and heart to fight was a quality embodied by many of her former housemates. “I think it’s fair to say every experience we have is mixed– after all, there’s the good and the bad in everything– however. I find that if you take each experience as a learning one, then life or class experience becomes exponentially more valuable,” she offered with a slight shrug. Chuckling as his next words, Maya sighed, “Who knows, maybe a little fight here and there would spice up my life a bit. Days filled with nothing but tea and small talk can get a very boring, very quickly” her words fiercely ironic as she liked to consider her life plenty exciting, it was why she choose the path of work that took her into the shadows, why she reveled in playing with like the undead, things perhaps better left untouched. “Oh, anything really!” Maya responded an nearly devious smile lacing her lips, “Dares, challenges…” she supplied, “I suppose one could say that the options really are endless.”

Most people were a little surprised that Brody was a Ravenclaw, often assuming he was a Gryffindor. He’d been a scrapper for sure but when he’d put the Sorting Hat on, he’d been so in awe of the magical world and so hungry to learn about it that the Hat hadn’t really deliberated much at all before putting him in Ravenclaw. It clearly knew what it was doing since Brody’d been very happy there. “Good point. Besides, if you don’t learn from any experience, what the hell are you doing with yourself?” It was more amused than accusatory, but it was something he believed. He’d definitely learned from his experiences, in and out of the classroom. Brody’s eyebrows went up as she mentioned her apparently long string of boring days and he was on the verge of asking something about the war. How anyone could be bored or even totally at ease in these times was beyond him. “Tea and small talk? Sounds like a nice break, I wouldn’t mind it so much.” If only he could enjoy it, but the war would have to be over for that. “Fighting’s less exciting than it seems, trust me. Mostly you just end up sore and you’re lucky if the only thing you break is a bar stool.” Brody kind of liked the look of that devious smile, more and more interested in this idea of harmless wagers. “So what would you bet on this kind of thing? Say I dared you to charm that guy’s shoes so he’d slowly start levitating, what would you wager on it?” He nodded towards a proper looking fellow seated a few tables away, holding the book he was reading barely an inch from his nose. 

[kaidansalenkos-remade]

[bad-boy-brody]

mayapatil:

“That’s good. I think it’s important to find what your learn interesting,” Maya smiled, “But if I’m being entirely honest, I’m not sure if school was ever really for me. I think I learned far more about myself and the world once I left. There’s something far more practical about learning through real world experiences,” she explained as she took the last sip of her drink and placed the empty glass on the table. “It’s understandable,” Maya shrugged, “I don’t personally tend to spar with my fists or wand, but I very much relate to the feelings.” It’s a bold face lie, for vampire slaying did involve an incredible level of sparing with both her wand and on occasion, fists, but it seemed far from appropriate to reveal such information to a man she had just met at a bar. It was always safer to let people assume she was no more than a helpless socialite, a completely innocuous creature. “Chess is always enjoyable, but I tend to prefer games of chance. Call it the Gryffindor in me but I have a taste for risk,” she chuckled, “I’m not much of a gambler in terms of money, but when it comes to harmless wagers, I’m never one to shy away,” she replied. 

“It helps, that’s for sure, but I was always pretty thirsty for knowledge. That’s a Ravenclaw for you.” He was curious when she mentioned having learned more outside of school. “Practical maybe, but I don’t know sometimes I wish I could take a class on everything. I’d feel more prepared for stuff, I think. I guess my experiences have always been a bit mixed.” He was who he was because of the life he’d lived, after all, and a lot of that shaping had happened outside of the classroom. But he was just as much influenced by his intelligence and the things he learned there. It was hard to weigh in one way or the other but he felt almost obligated to vouch for education in the classical sense. “It’s probably better if you keep it to just relating to the feelings without acting on it.” Fighting had definitely caused him his fair share of trouble but then sometimes there was nothing like punching your feelings out. It was cathartic. Brody finished his drink as she explained what she’d meant by games. “Risk taker, huh? So what would you call a harmless wager?”