London Bridge is Falling Down

To say that things had not been going Ariadne's way as of late would be an understatement. Corvus was still avoiding her, she no longer dared to see Cygnus or even respond to his letters, and Lilith was as infuriating as ever. And as usual, there was no one at all to whom she could go with all of her problems -- no one who would listen to her with sympathy, pat her on the shoulder and tell her it'd be all right. Because, as she knew well, there was no one who loved or cared for her. Oh, Corvus would be bothered if something happened to her -- if she died, he would certainly miss her with something like regret. But he didn't love her, she wasn't nearly as self-decieved as those like Ms. MacDougal would believe. If something happened to her, she would be replaced, in time, and eventually forgotten. But that didn't mean she didn't have a way to leave her mark on the world, make people fear her even if they never knew her name or even saw her face.

The scene she chose for its high population of muggles -- completely unprotected, of course, and by the time she arrived, most of them were in a high state of drunkenness. The task would not be a difficult one, but she hadn't chosen it for how impressive it might be. No, what it would be was destructive. The most chaos in the shortest amount of time possible -- and then she could sit back and enjoy the spectacle.

It was, in short, a football match, where thousands of muggles were currently watching their beloved side lose badly to a rather untalented club, courtesy of a couple of well-placed Confundus spells to the home team's first-stringers. The crowd was in an absolute uproar, and really, Ariadne didn't have to do much: the stage was set, the players in motion. Almost casually, she finished the beer in her hand, and with startling precision, threw it forcefully into a group of particularly unruly fans. The result was instantaneous; no one seemed to be able to see where it came from, and so the group started attacking anyone nearby who so much as looked the wrong way. It quickly spread, and she was soon well-pressed to keep ahead of the mayhem -- but not before setting fire to a rather large gas tank she spotted in the main concourse, presumably to fuel whatever grilles were being used.

The fire spread even more rapidly that the rioting, and that soon was running out into the street, where rioters mingled with the crowds, spreading mayhem and devastation in their own panicked rush to escape the fire. Ariadne alone was calm in the sea of destruction, a simple Muggle-repelling charm maintaining a distance of two feet between her and anyone trying to get near her, who curiously found themselves taking a different route than intended in their efforts to leave the stadium.

From a block away, she surveyed the increasing disruption; the riot was not fully underway, and several more structures were burning, other than the one fire she set with her own hands. Smirking in a self-satisfied way, she leaned against the wall of her little alleyway, and watched, her blue eyes an ocean of contentment.

Bloody drunks was all Aileen could think of as she was being jostled around by a crowd of panicked muggles at the footie game. She would have immediately apparated when the tank of gas exploded, but Cameron had disappeared into the crowd ahead of her. She wasn't about to leave him to fend for himself in the throng of crazed football fans, no matter how much like them he was. Her usually mild mannered cousin was crazy for football and dragged her to many of the games when she was free. Apparently this was one they shouldn't have gone to. The explosion was luckily on the opposite side of the area to her seat and so the crowd nearest her was not in danger of being burned, only trampled by others.

"CAM!" Aileen shouted through the crowd, but she could barely hear her own voice. She was pushed against the tide of people out the area entrance way and found herself on the street outside of the burning buildings. CAMERON! She called, hopping up and down, hoping to see his hair peek out from in the crowd. Aileen turned and tried to look the other way, maybe he had left before her and was waiting in a less crowded area.

A man rammed into Aileen's chest as he ran from the stadium, his jacket was singed and smelled of ash. Aileen made an oof-ing noise as she was pushed several feet backwards. She stumbled to catch her footing, but with a suprisingly comfortable fall, ended up laying face up on the ground.

As she got up, she realized it was comfortable for only one reason. She had smashed into, and knocked over a very beautiful woman who had been standing at the edge of an alleyway. "Sorry." Aileen said offhandedly, her eyes still on the crowd to find where Cameron might have gone.

It was almost like it happened in slow motion; one moment, Ariadne was snorting derisively as she watched an awkward little slip of a girl get jostled around in the crowd, and the next, the girl had actually fallen on top of her in the least graceful manner possible. Her enchantments has worked perfectly, she knew. The girl in question was clearly not a Muggle -- and judging from her attendance at the football match, she wasn't of pure blood, either.

"Get off of me you filthy mudblood!" she snarled, shoving the strange girl away none too gently. Ariadne couldn't have cared less if the stupid cow got trampled to death -- unless it was to feel pleased she'd assisted in ridding the world of one more worthless Muggleborn.