Screw The Rules

Magnus

As high warlock of Brooklyn it was Magnus's job to tell the warlocks when the had to leave and to organise when they were going to attack the institute. So he got out of bed and clicked his fingers, pulling the sheets up and making the bed with his magic. He sparked his fingers and changed from his glittery pyjamas to a blue, glittery coat with black pants with a lot of things dangling from them. He slipped on his rings and went to the bathroom to do his hair. He snapped his fingers and spiked his hair with his magic and then, this time doing it by hand, sprinkled the glitter in his hair. That was always his favourite part. Magnus loved glitter. He opened a portal and went to all the warlock's who were always involved with the attacks. Magnus thought this was right, no he knew this was right. The Shadowhunters always thought they were so much better than warlocks all because they had angel blood. Maybe after another year or so of attacking they would finally stop treating warlocks as if they meant nothing. He had never understood why having half angel blood gave you the right to rule over them. He just couldn't see it as logic. After he had gathered all the warlocks outside the institute he gave them the usual debrief
"Remember you do this at your own risk" he told them just like he did at the beginning of every other attack for the past year. They all got into place. Forty three in total all in lines of about five.
"Ready?" He shouted
"Yes" they all chanted and they all clicked their fingers and began throwing balls of magic at the walls and windows of the institute. He knew perfectly well that the spell that had been put up to shield the place from their attacks could not be put down by anyone but the one who put it there. He also knew that the one who put it there would never reverse the spell for him. But he blasted none the less. He heard the distant sound of  the alarm wailing from inside the institute. God that sound was annoying he thought. All around him the warlocks blasted their magic. Gathering it in their hand and pegging it at the institute. He stopped firing for a moment to take in the sight of them; the sight of all the colours hitting the wall and exploding and crackling. Nothing happened of course. He spotted a window, and unlike all the rest of the windows this ones curtain was pulled back a Shadowhunters standing there looking at them. Magnus looked at him. He wore a black shirts and black pants. Not very sparkly at all. Magnus thought. But before he could think to much about it the Shadowhunters had thrown the curtain back across and closed it. Presumably to join his friends in talking about how much better they were than the warlocks.