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 Posted: Tue May 20, 2014 5:58 pm
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 ๐๐ช๐ค๐๐๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐ค...spacespacespacespace CURRENTLY // single // widowedspace
CURRENTLY // Looking Insane at the Estatespaces
CURRENTLY WITH // Avaspacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Furiousspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'His fault, all his fault...' spacespac โ โ โ 'And you might say it's self-indulgent,
you might say its self-destructive.' โ โ โ โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
spaceLysandar smiled at the sound of the crack when Avis landed, eyes wide and mad, his grin that of a madman. He heard his father's voice in his head, scolding him for enjoying this. Duty was not fun, the old man said. Duty was duty, and that was it. You were not supposed to enjoy it; if you did, you weren't taking it seriously enough. But, Lysandar couldn't quell the elation he felt welling in his chest. He'd waited so very, very long to do this... he approached the child, rolling his eyes a bit at the tears. What, really? He wasn't even enough of a man to try and maintain the illusion of dignity? No, he was going to be shameful even now, even at his death, weak. Pathetic. Lysandar forced the Squib's back to the floor of the woods with his foot, standing squarely on his sternum, and clicked his tongue. "So, you're done fighting, then? Given up already? I'm disappointed... usually you at least try," he said, gritting his teeth with the last word, forcing his foot down, down, until he heard the crack of a rib, maybe two. Oh, that had to hurt... or so he assumed. Lysandar hadn't known pain for a very, very long time... his father had beat that out of him as a child, of course. Pain was an illusion... you just had to understand that. Control your body. It wasn't so hard...
spaceThe former Slytherin crouched down then, lowering himself to his knee, foot still planted firmly on the boy's chest, and pointed his wand at Avis' face, the tip prodding his cheek. Lysandar muttered a spell, and a line of blood appeared on the cheek. He repeated the action a few times, to the neck, the arms, the shoulders... each crimson line made his eyes grow brighter. This was it... he would kill the Squib, slowly, oh, so slowly, and then he'd return home and set everything to rights. Nikolas and Camille would be taken care of, either by controlling them until they understood, or by killing them if they refused. It shouldn't come to that, though. Surely they couldn't love their son so much to continue this farce once he was dead? Perhaps it was merely the obligations of parenthood that made them so; perhaps once their child was dead, they would be free of that curse and return to normal. It was a nice thought; Lysandar found himself thankful that his parents had been far too wise to fall victim to such foolishness. Yes... he was fortunate, indeed. His hand encircled Avis' throat, and he squeezed, the pressuring increasing slowly, a tease almost. He'd never suffocated a person to death before... he wondered what that was like, to watch them struggle for air under his hands, to watch the life leave their eyes...
spaceSuddenly, Lysandar was thrown back, away from Avis, his back slamming hard into a tree, head knocking against the trunk, making his mind rattle. He stood, dizzy for a moment, eyes searching through the distorted vision of the trees for the person who had done this to him. When things righted themselves, he saw his brother standing between him and his nephew, the boy's mother crouched over him, both their wands at the ready, pointed at Lysandar. The eldest Tempest son growled low in his throat, pointed his wand at his younger brother. "Don't be a fool, Nikolas. You've heard... you've heard it! He is corrupting this family, he is making us weak! He must be gotten rid of!" Lysandar's eyes were wild, furious. How could his fool of a brother be so... so... so damned stupid?! "You're not going to hurt my son, Lysandar! Whatever insanity's gotten into you to think that anything your son has done is somehow his fault... it's fallacy." Lysandar hissed at Nikolas' words, gritting his teeth. "He is an abomination! An insult to our lineage! And he has corrupted my son, is doing the same to my granddaughter! Think of Persephone, Nikolas! Would you have her grow up to... to be sorted into Hufflepuff, to sit with half-bloods and mudbloods at her meals and think of them as friends? Would you have her marry a muggle?!" This was said with a voice more akin to a roar, the very words making Lysandar's skin crawl. Nikolas opened his mouth to speak, to argue, but Lysandar had disarmed him before he had the chance, and was backing him into a tree. "Will you make me kill you, brother? Because I will; everything I do, I do for this family, and if you must die for them... so be it," he hissed, and then the curse left his lips, and Nikolas' body fell to the floor.
spaceCamille stood then, eyes wide and afraid, hand shaking as her wand pointed at her brother in law. She fought to keep her eyes on Lysandar, to keep her attention focused on protecting her son, and not think about her husband, lying dead against a tree only a few feet from her. "Lysandar..." Her voice was shaking, afraid. But she stood her ground. "Don't... don't make me do this, Lysandar. Don't make me hurt you... You need help. Let me help you..." From the corner of her eye, she saw movement, saw Lysandar's son come upon the scene. She turned to him, eyes desperate. Antony wasn't like his father, he would help, he could help... "Antony, take Avis! Take him and Persephone and leave! Go somewhere safe! Go-" Her words were cut off with a flash of green light, and her body fell to the ground, eyes vacant and desperate. Lysandar made eye contact with his son for only a second, and then there was a loud crack, and he and the Squib were gone. Lysandar howled in frustration; they were gone! He stormed back to the house, looking for his granddaughter, desperate now. They couldn't take her, too, he couldn't let them have her... but it was too late. She was no where to be found. HIs brother and Camille were dead in the woods, and that miserable Squib was alive.
space"Lysandar." The former Slytherin turned to see his father, standing at the top of the stairs, his expression unreadable. The old man was clearly displeased... Lysandar would've been worried if not for the fact that he knew it'd been a very, very long time since that man could take him. However, at his next words, he felt his blood run cold.
space"Lysandar, the authorities have been notified; I'd make myself scarce if I were you." Edgar Tempest's mouth was set in a grim line, and Lysandar realized; this was a mark he would not tolerate on his record. He'd been sloppy; it wouldn't be hard to trace the murders at the muggle bar to him, wouldn't be hard to prove he'd been the one to kill Nikolas and Camille. Edgar couldn't allow that sort of disgrace to befall their family... so he was being written off. Removed. He curled his lip at the old man. "Who will you leave your fortune to now, father? That harlot you allow to pretend to be your daughter?" He snorted, thinking it would never happen, not knowing that was exactly what his father intended to do, and disappeared with a crack. Later, when he would try to return, he would find himself unable to Apparate onto the grounds, or even step foot there. He'd been barred from the premise. As he stood outside the gate, Callidora stepped out onto the porch and offered a sarcastic wave. He glared; his 'sister'... what would she do with it all, anyway?
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
โ โ โ 'But, you see, it's more productive
than if i were to be healthy.' โ โ โ
 (( OOC: )) ** Granted permission from Lady Pom for this because PLOTS ** |
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Posted: Fri May 30, 2014 10:30 am
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Posted: Wed Nov 26, 2014 3:20 pm
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โ๐โโ๐ผโ๐๐๐ โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ Married to Lenore Tempest
Looking Distinguished at Home with Lenore, Callidora
xxxFEELINGxxx
Furious
xxxTHINKINGxxx
โ ....................! โ โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
Dies irae solvet saeclum in favilla. โ โ โxxx
Mors stupebit c** resurget creatura. โ โ โxxxxxx
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
spaceEdgar frowned as he walked down the hallway towards the stairs; he'd seen Callidora sneaking about again. The woman was hiding something, and he wasn't having it. She had no business keeping secrets from them. They'd taken her in, allowed that damned Nott to concoct this scheme to 'protect' her (though Edgar was certain the man's reasons for doing so were significantly less charitable than he'd tried to make them sound), and she was sneaking about, hiding from them, keeping secrets. He hadn't seen more than a glimpse of her in months - she was literally hiding from them. Lenore had informed him at supper a few nights before that she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the woman since early Autumn. So, naturally, when he's spotted the fall of raven hair slipping towards the Entrance Hall, he'd followed. Whatever was going on, she was going to tell him, now.
spaceHe was thankful that though the house was old, it was in excellent repair, otherwise he was certain a creaking floorboard would have given him away. He couldn't just call out to her, she'd simply run away, he knew. Instead, he had to move swiftly and silently, which was far too taxing on his old bones for him to bother with it if it weren't so damned important. She was going to pay for this inconvenience, he decided, noting a twinge in his knee as he approached her back. Once she was within reach, just as they reached the balcony overlooking the front door, he grabbed her arm, hard, tugging to turn her around. "I need to have a word with you," he hissed. "Where exactly do you think you're-" His words were cut off by his own shock when he took her in. The old man had to blink to ensure that he was, in fact, seeing what he thought he was seeing. As soon as he was convinced, his vision turned red.
spaceThe damned slut was pregnant.
spaceHis jaw set tight, what little color he had draining from his face. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, though it was a foolish question. Word of her affairs was wide-spread, it shouldn't have been such a shock to see she'd managed to get herself in such a state. Though, he'd thought, apparently mistakenly, that he wouldn't have to worry about this. From what he'd heard of her life from before she'd entered his home, she'd spent a decade trying to give her husband a child, and nearly died in the process. That coupled with her age had made him feel safe, certain that the odds of her ending up in such a situation were so slim it didn't warrant worrying about. And yet, here she was.
spaceCallidora cocked an eyebrow at him, her lip curling up, and attempted to yank her arm from his grasp. His hold on her tightened, to the point that he knew it must be hurting her. It hurt him, too; his hands didn't really have the strength for this. But he was just furious enough that it didn't bother him at present. "You filthy harlot," he snarled, pulling her closer, so she was mere inches from his face. He expected her to flinch, but instead, she straightened her spine, and smiled. "Do you think this is funny?" he asked, hardly able to believe that she had the gall to smirk at him right now. "I have given you everything you needed, I have allowed you to take my name, come into my home, offered you my wealth. I named you my damned heir. And you repay me by dragging my name through the mud, and coming up pregnant with some b*****d?" His eyes narrowed. "Gods, you don't even know who the damned father is, I'd wager. Don't think I haven't heard... you don't bother with any man more than once, do you?" He sneered at her, disgust evident on his face.
spaceHis anger deepened when she laughed, actually laughed, at him. Movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye, and he watched as she turned to see Lenore approaching, concern on her face. As his wife drew closer, he saw the exact moment she noticed Callidora's stomach. Her hand went to her mouth, a small gasp echoing through the hall. Callidora took advantage of the way his grip loosened to pull her arm away, stepping back so that there were a couple of feet between them. Lenore went to stand beside her husband out of habit, arms crossing. Her mouth was drawn in a thin line; he could feel the fury radiating off of her. If anyone in his home would be bothered by this turn of events, it was Lenore. Those who enjoyed gossip always hated to be the source of it more than anything in the world. But, she knew her place; she wouldn't speak. Edgar's eyes turned back to his 'daughter.' "What. Is so. Damned. Funny?!" He demanded of her.
spaceShe responded with another smirk, tossing her hair over her shoulder, eyes cruel and amused. He hated to admit it, but, had she been raised in his household, as his daughter in truth, she'd have made a decent heir, woman or not. As it was, her behavior was unacceptable. He waited for his answer, knowing whatever she said would only make it worse.
space"Edgar, I know exactly who the father is," she told him, drawing the words out slowly, mockingly. "Actually, you know him. Not as well as he knows you, of course..." The way she trailed off made a sick feeling settle into his stomach. He knew the answer before she gave it, couldn't frame the question because he didn't want to hear her say it. Dammit, he should have known better than to truth either of them. He should have known the chit wouldn't stay away from Nott. "Remington," he uttered finally, hating the way she smiled in response. His mind was whirring. He had to fix this. His house would not suffer the indignity. They'd been through enough, his name was covered with enough dirt that it might never be clean, he would not accept this. He refused.
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xxxโ โ โ Requiem aeternam dona eis,
xxxxxxโ โ โ Et lux perpetua luceat eis.
 (( OOC: )) ...
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Posted: Wed Nov 26, 2014 6:30 pm
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โ๐โโ๐ผโ๐๐๐ โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ Single... Sort of
Looking Better Than She Feels at Tempest Manor with Edgar, Lenore
xxxFEELINGxxx
Strained
xxxTHINKINGxxx
โ Damned old bats, getting in the way... โ โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
I would kill to make you feel. โ โ โxxx
I don't mean kill someone for real; โ โ โxxxxxx
I couldn't do that, it is wrong. โ โ โxxxxxxxxx
But I can say it in a song. โ โ โxxxxxxxxxxxx
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
spaceIt took all she had within her not to show how tired she was. She hoped that, before he'd grabbed her arm, Edgar hadn't noticed the slump of her shoulders. She hoped that the spells and makeup that she'd painstakingly applied were holding firm, so he couldn't see her pallor. Callidora knew what she looked like under it all... death. She could see it, every time she looked in the mirror. Even with the spells in place; it was in her eyes, a dull, listless glaze over them. In spite of Remington's best efforts, there seemed to be little he could do to improve her state. She thought he was doing enough that she might live, but it wasn't making the pregnancy easy by any means.
spaceWhen she'd felt the cold hand wrap around her upper arm, icy to the point she could feel it through the thick cardigan she wore, she immediately stiffened her back, adopted her usual haughty expression, even though it took more effort than she would ever care to admit. It was part of the reason why she'd been hiding from him and Lenore; she didn't need them seeing how ill she was. They wouldn't lose another heir, she knew, and they would've wondered what was wrong with her. It would have been too soon to tell them (hell, it might still be too soon). She had no doubt that Edgar's answer to her current state would be to get rid of the child, by any means necessary. He wouldn't have her birthing a b*****d under his name. So they'd had to wait until it was too late... Remington had planned on her appearing in public, stomach plainly visible, to prevent them from being able to deny the truth of what had happened. Then, they would be engaged, and Edgar would have no say in the matter. He wouldn't be able to change anything, manipulate his way out of it.
spaceExcept now, everything was ruined. She saw the instant he realized, softly cursing in her head, though her expression remained unchanged, her demeanor intact, in spite of the effort it took. As he ranted at her, she fought the urge to scowl or flinch. She needed to stand her ground... this would require a level of delicacy she wasn't sure she was capable of.
spaceParticularly not of late, she thought, remembering a week ago, when she'd hurled an antique vase at Remington's head for an imagined slight. Her moods were not entirely within her control. Hormones coupled with exhaustion and the horrible mood she was always in due to the pain meant that she had a tenuous grasp on them at the best of times, and this was not the best of times. She'd been on her way to the floo to see Remington, so he could give her the potions and things he'd been using to try and help ease her through the months. If they worked at all, she hadn't noticed, but it didn't stop her from going to him every day like clockwork for the dose, so strong was her fear of the repercussions. The scheme her lover had concocted was perfect in every way she could imagine, so long as she survived. She was so close to everything she'd wanted (or, most of it... Remington was hardly her first choice of husband, but then, her first choice hadn't turned out all that well either, now had it?), she wanted to see this through. His promise that if things had gotten too hard, they would handle it and find another way, had ensured her cooperation. He could have laid claim to the wealth with just the child, after all, given that there were no other heirs to the Tempest line. If that had truly been his only concern, he wouldn't have promised her such. This was for them. Not just him.
spaceThat Edgar thought she didn't know the identity of the father actually managed to kindle a small spark of amusement somewhere within her. His expression when he realized that she did, and exactly who it was, was priceless. But, she braced herself for his anger; the man moved to slap her, and she barely dodged the strike. "You'll not bully me right now, Edgar... it's not just my health I have to be concerned with," she mocked, and he snarled in response. "This is unacceptable," he said, and she rolled her eyes, trying to look bored. It was so hard... she was so tired. Everything hurt so much. "Oh, don't worry, Father," she sneered at him, hoping that her eyes held their usual arrogance. "We're going to legitimize the b*****d. Remington's thought it all out. I don't think you give him enough credit." Her tone was dry, but she was disgusted to hear the hint of exhaustion in it. Dammit, she needed to get away from him. She needed to get to Remington's, so she could relax.
space"This was the plan from the beginning," Edgar accused. She started to argue, but found she couldn't. It hadn't ever occurred to her... but could Remington have actually planned this out from the start? Perhaps she was the one who hadn't given him enough credit. Though, he'd had his own schemes to concern himself with when the whole thing had begun, so perhaps not. Or, perhaps this had been his Plan B?
spaceShe was drawn from her musing by Lenore, who had finally decided to speak up. "You'll put it up for adoption," the woman said, her tone cold. Callidora narrowed her eyes at her. "You will remain in this home, you will not see Nott. You will be locked in your rooms, you will see no one, have the child, and it will go to the orphanage. And we will not speak of this again," Lenore declared, and Edgar smiled at his wife, the cold expression as close to affection as Callidora had ever seen him offer her. "An excellent idea," he praised, and Callidora rolled her eyes. "You assume I'll acquiesce," she reminded them. She had nothing to gain from their plan. More to the point, their plan would kill her; she needed the potions from Remington to live, after all.
spaceEdgar's smile turned cruel as he looked to her. "You won't have a choice," he said, grabbing her arm again, harder this time, yanking her towards him. The raven-haired woman winced in pain, hand reaching out to strike him. He grabbed her hand. "Be careful, Callidora," he mocked. "I am being generous by even allowing you to have the child. It wouldn't be so hard to take it from you," he sad, and she snarled at him, struggling to get away. He frowned as he tried to contain her flailing. She was filled with a sudden rage, his mocking tone inciting her anger, the idea that he might try to take the child from her making her blood boil.
spaceLenore stepped behind him, trying to offer support, to steady him, when Callidora freed herself from his grasp and shoved, hard. She didn't know where the strength came from, but somehow she managed to get him off balance. She readied herself to make an escape, hoping her sudden energy would last long enough to carry her to the fireplace. They were both old, but she was ill; it was anyone's guess whether or not they'd have been able to catch her. But, a sudden shout drew her attention, and she looked back in time to see the pair topple over the edge of the balcony. The crash that sounded after made her wince, suddenly feeling sick. She didn't know what had happened, surely she hadn't shoved him that hard? Se had no way of knowing that it had been Lenore who had knocked Edgar off balance, the man tripping over her as he attempting to regain his footing. The pair had been too close to the edge, and when he'd fallen, he'd taken his wife with him. Callidora stood, frozen, afraid to look. When she got up the courage, she regretted it instantly. A glance over the balcony assured her that neither had survived the fall, their bodies bent in unnatural angles on top of one another. She turned away, falling to her knees and retching.
spaces**t, s**t, s**t, what was she supposed to do?! She'd effectively just murdered them both, accidentally or not. She wasn't sorry she'd done it, not really, but she was in no state to cover it up...-! Remington! Callidora stood, legs shaking, and willed herself to manage the trip to the fireplace in the parlor. She stood before it, tossing the powder into the flames. She hastily informed him of what had transpired, fearing his anger but hoping that he would see it as nothing more than a slight bump in the road, and a convenient one at that, if bumps could ever be considered thus. After all, with Edgar and Lenore dead... all they had to do was ensure that Callidora wasn't suspected of committing the murder, and handle the estate. Then, she would own everything...
spaceShe would own everything.
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
xxxโ โ โ And I'm saying it now, I'm saying it so
xxxxxxโ โ โ Even if you never hear this song,
xxxxxxxxxโ โ โ Somebody else will know.
xxxxxxxxxxxxโ โ โ I just can't explain how good it feels.
 (( OOC: )) ...
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Posted: Mon Mar 16, 2015 8:54 am
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c ฯ
r r e n ั l y โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ โก ััะผฮนะธgัฯะธ ะธฯัั โกLooking Tired at Home with No onexxxาeelฮนngxxx Annoyedxxxัะฝฮนnฤธฮนngxxx โ Why should I be stuck at home when he's the one that wanted it? โ โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
ฦั c ฯ ฯ
ฮท ั ฮน ฮท g ัฯฯ
ั ะฒ ฦ ั ั ั ฮน ฮท g ั ัฯฯ
ฯฮนฮทษ ฯ
ฯ ฮน ฮท ษ ั ะฒ ั โ โ โxxxxxxxxxxxx
ฮนั ััฮฑััั ฯฮนัะฝ ัฯฯ
ั f ฮฑ ะผ ฮน ฦ ั ฮฑฮทษ ัฮทษั ฮนฮท ัฯฯ
ั ะฒ ั ษ โ โ โxxxxxxxxx
ฦณฯฯ
ื ั ะบ ั ฦ ฦ ฮฑฮทษ ะฝ ั ษ ั ษ ฯะฝัฮท ัฯฯ
cฯฯ
ฦษ ะฝฮฑฮฝั ฦัั โ โ โxxxxxx
ฦณฯฯ
ั g ฯ
ฮฑ ั ษ ษ ฯ ฯ ฮท ; ัฯฯ
ั ษ ั ั ั ั ฯ
ฯ - ัฯฯ
ะผฯ
ัั ะฒั ฯ
ฯ ั ั ั โ โ โxxx
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
spaceCallidora frowned as she half-fell back into a chair, not bothering to correct her posture or even make an attempt at her usual composure. She was still not in the greatest of health overall, and caring for a child was exactly as awful as she'd remembered it being, if not worse. She hadn't quite decided yet; Damien had been a bother, certainly, but she couldn't determine if Edric were worse or not. Presently, he was tucked away in his bed, out of sight, out of her hair, and out of mind. It was the first real quiet she'd had since waking that morning, she thought, clicking her tongue in agitation.
spaceA loose lock of hair fell in her face, and she eyed it, noting the blonde color. It seemed her potions had worn off; she considered for all of a second going to her chamber and downing the next batch, but decided against it. It was too much trouble, and really, what was the point? No one within the walls of this house was going to tell anyone what they'd seen. Indeed, the only people currently home were herself and Edric, and the infant couldn't even speak. She supposed there were the House-Elves, but they were hers, after all, so it wasn't like she was at any risk of them running their mouths. If they even saw her in such a state; they were fairly good at staying out of her way, so she couldn't really even guess if they saw much of her at all. She liked to pretend they didn't exist, after all. More trouble than it was worth to constantly glare at them. She didn't have the energy for such trifling matters.
spaceCold eyes narrowed and turned towards the clock, noting the time. Remington's hours were erratic at best. She had no doubts that the devil was doing it on purpose, staggering the times he returned home just to needle her. She hadn't quite ruled out that his perfect little vision of his perfect little future didn't include her. In fact, sometimes she wondered if perhaps he was only keeping her around long enough to rear the child to an age at which he could take it under his wing. He seemed determined to do better with Edric than he had with his daughter, which was almost laughable, if only because she doubted if he was very much a fault for what was wrong with the girl. Clearly her mother had passed on less-than-favorable genetics, ones which manifested both in a poor attitude and a lack of magic. Callidora honestly couldn't stand that the thing was her stepdaughter, and still didn't understand why Remington insisted on keeping her close. But she wasn't about to say anything on the matter; the last time she had, it'd not ended well for her.
spaceBells chimed, announcing that it was presently 10 o'clock, and she couldn't help but wonder what had him out late tonight, business, or pleasure? Probably both, she thought with a derisive snort. Typical. A soft fury began to simmer beneath the surface, and she found herself tapping out a staccato rhythm against the wooden armrest of the chair. He was the one who'd wanted the damn child, who'd wanted the marriage, who'd wanted the house and the money and everything that came with it. Why was it, then, that she was the one spending her days trapped in the damned manor, caring for the damned infant? He couldn't let go of that damn shop, in spite of having more money than he could know what to do with (and she would know; it wasn't as though she hadn't tried to spend enough to provoke Edgar before his death, with no such luck. She hadn't even made a dent). What the hell was the point of it all, if he still spent his days sitting in that idiotic shop, peddling cursed objects like some commoner? It was uncouth, and he should've been above it, and yet apparently not.
spaceOf course, part of it was that he couldn't let go of his seedy under the table operation that he ran in the basement. She narrowed her eyes, staring off at nothing in particular. She was stuck here at home, raising the child he'd forced upon her, while he spent his days gossiping and socializing with people who weren't fit to lick his boots. She didn't really care to think of what else... or rather, who else, he was doing. It seemed like a fast way to drive herself mad, and wouldn't that just be perfect? End up a nutter so he could have her committed, the b*****d. She'd rather not, thanks.
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
xxxโ โ โ ฦณฯฯ
'ัั ฮฑ c ั ฯ ฯ ะบ ; ัฯฯ
'ัั ฮฑ f ฮฑ ะบ ั
xxxxxxโ โ โ ฦณฯฯ
'ัั c ฯ ะผ ะผ ฮน ั ั ั ษ ;
xxxxxxxxxโ โ โ ฮนf ัฯฯ
ษ ฮน ษ ฮน ั ัฮฑั ัฯฯ
ษ ฮน ษ ฮน ั
xxxxxxxxxxxxโ โ โ ฮนf ัฯฯ
ษฮนษฮท'ั ั ฯ
c ะบ ฮน ั ฯ
ฯ ฮฑฮทษ ัฮฑั ั ฯ ฯ
ษ ฮน ษ
 (( OOC: )) ...
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Posted: Wed Apr 01, 2015 2:15 pm
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All good things must come to an end,
While all bad things are here to stay.
๐น๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ต๐๐๐
๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ข ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐
[Summer of 2029]
At approximately a quarter to six o' clock that evening, Remington had locked down The Spiny Serpent far earlier than usual, pocketed his keys and cast on the hood of his black robe. The sun had just rippled over the horizon and lazily painted streaks of rose and gold had brushed the night sky as, one by one, the stars began to blink and shine. The heel of his boot sloshed through a puddle where the cobblestone had cracked and splintered, the fresh rain scent still lingered in the air as he strolled by and the droplets of rain sparkled against the waning sun. Golden rimmed eyes darted behind him, and not just once. It seemed every half minute, those perilous eyes would dance over each shoulder in tempo and not once had he missed a beat. He dared not risk it. He would have floo'd but he didn't want to be tracked, would have apparatedโbut what if she were watching him? He didn't doubt that Callidora, through the unlimited resource of their vault, had acquired her own contacts to do her bidding. She'd never deign herself to spy on him personally, and for that, Remington blessed her arrogance.
This was an affair he meant to keep secret after all, one he would take to the grave. If she knew... If she ever knew... No... He refused. (But the seed had been sewn, hadn't it? One day the harvest will reap, the paranoia will ripen, and the insanity shall surely follow.) He descended down the avenue, simmered through the crowd of Diagon Alley until he was just another stranger in wizarding robes, then wandered near the dead end of the wizarding district before he pivoted toward the road. As he extended a bent wand of walnut, thirteen inches, and infused with fox fur core, headlights glared in the distance, an engine roared as a purple, triple-decker bus halted at the corner and peeled open it's doors. โThe Rosier Estate.โ After barking his demand, Remington maneuvered the stairs skipping a step at a time until he perched against the window of the third floor. The vantage point was high, but narrow, he could spy out the windows as they departed the alley and disappeared down a maze of streets.
The high iron wrought gate squealed on its hinges as it swung open at his presence, meanwhile, the triple-decker bus had reversed and peeled down the boulevard, a cloud of dirt and smoke billowed in its wake. Weeds had overgrown the estate, the manor reduced to squalor in the near decade that had passed since the last known Rosier graced the ancestral home. Vines crept along the manor, shadowing nearly every inch of the mossy, discoloured weatherboard, but still, the path along the old stepping stone walkway remained well-trodden despite the years. The moon crawled over the treetops as Remington rounded to the edge of the estate, beneath the stone arched entry way flanked by square tapered columns which connected low granite walls around the cemetery where she had been buried; where he had buried her. Grass had grown over the mound of dirt, the tombstone shrouded in moss and a rusted shovel leaned against the back, but her name had been carved in deep and it would never fade. โIt's me... I'm here...โ Baited breath caught in his lungs like an iron maiden, he waited, hoped, prayed, somehow, he would hear her voice again. A long minute had passed in silence; even the wind refused to whisper in his ear. Remington unbound the robe from around his neck, folded the fabric neatly in a pile on the ground, then unlocked the leather and clasps from his breastplate and pauldrons, assorted the armor in a row on the field until he was left in his bronze surcoat and dark trousers. Gloved hands grasped the shovel and a heavy boot hammered the spade into the dirt. Six feet deep, but still, so far away. Over and over again, he plunged the shovel into the dirt, tossed the loose gravel and clumps of grass over his shoulder, then continued. Over and over again, until the clunk of metal bounced off one another. It was a hasty moment of crawling to escape from the depth of the grave, then a single utterance to levitate the coffin to rise to the surface and settle gently beside him. Remington dropped to his hands and knees, shook away the dust and debris until the smooth grain of wood froze his fingers through his glove. As he unlocked the hinges and pried the lid open, her frozen body, suspended in time, had hardly a stain of decomposition besmirching her preserved features. If only he could touch her, if only it wouldn't burn. โIt's almost been seven years... I don't know if I'll ever bring you back Krina... I'm sorry...โ But empty words fell on deaf ears, his teeth chattered, lips swollen with a blue tinge the longer he sat, exposed. โI'm a father now, again.... You should see him, Krina, he's everything you would've wanted. He's perfect.โ She should have listened to him all those years ago. She should've trusted him! โI don't know what to do with Callidoraโshe's Dahlia, really, but that's...that's a long storyโโ He mused, a ghost of a smile flickered on his lips until it disappeared down the stygian depths. โShe's not like you... Perhaps that's for the best.โ Even in her silence, the tickle of her tongue grazed his ear, mocking him in death as she had always done in life. โI love her, I do,โ though he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, the rotting corpse, or himself. โYou would've hated her, 'as though I could do better,' but what did you care? You never left Flint. You were never going to... Perhaps it's fitting... you're death... By the hands of the daughter you never wanted, the daughter you sought to drown....โ Bubbling beneath the surface, tension boiled in his blood even when his breath froze in a white wispy cloud. โI would have done it. I would have killed her. I would have done anything for you... Did you know that? Is that why you...? Erggghh...โ As he exhaled a long sigh, his shoulders slumped, the anger subsided and the guilt had taken it's place. โThey're expecting me soon...โ But he made no effort to move, no conscious decision to shield himself from the subzero degrees. โI promise, I will bring you back. I promise.โ
____________________________
Barely half an hour until midnight, the unmistakable roar of the hearth in the parlor had cackled and a visage engulfed in green flames sauntered through. Not a hair out of place or a smudge of dirt had marred his hands, nothing, but the cryptic depths hidden in the veil of golden irises. He, if only on a guilty whim, had half a mind to shower his wife in rose petals and lilies. But her suspicions would have ruined any hope of spontaneityโcould he truly blame her though? Unfortunately, he hadn't expected to be greeted upon arrival; and nothing good would come of this, he was (almost) willing to bet his life on it. A huff of air flared past his nostrils as he descended from the mouth of the hearth, arms spread open wide. โMy sweet wife,โ he began expressively, emphasizing each emotion like a canvas at war. โSo lovely to see you,โ he acknowledged her anticipation. She'd been waiting, that much had been clear by the monotonous echo of her nails clacking against wood. But how long has she been here? Siting. Stewing. Waiting.
He advanced, knelt down on his left knee and noted the dried, caked mud on his boots; how could he have missed that? Limited on thoughts, Remington aimed to redirect her attention. โAnd how was your day?โ He inquired, so committed to the performance of a beloved husband, but he knewโthey knewโit wouldn't last. How could it? She'll only berate him for leaving her here, so pitifully alone, with an infant she didn't even want, to have to care for as it cries, mocking her. He's heard it all before! Or how he's still in that hovel of an establishment, (dare it even be called such, in her opinion.) Or perhaps, he debated, she'll spit the poison of accusations; call to question his long hours and early mornings. He didn't dare wonder how she would react, when and if, the illicit secret becomes unburied...
After all, this was an affair he meant to keep secret, one he would take to the grave.
[OOC:]
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
47 years old โ 6โ3โ โ 189lbs
Home โ Office โ Islandโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Sep 30, 2015 5:00 pm
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It is frightening what a smile can h i d e. ______
๐ถ ๐ด ๐ ๐ ๐ด ๐ ๐ท ๐
๐ด _๐บ ๐ถ ๐ท ๐ฏ ๐ฐ ๐ฌ _ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐
__ ๐๐ก๐ข๐๐๐๐ก __ ๐๐ __ ๐๐๐๐ฆ๐๐๐ข๐๐ก __ ๐ผ๐๐ก๐๐๐๐๐ก๐๐๐๐๐
`โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด `โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด `โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด `โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด
[Summer of 2031]
"I'm not in her way," she said, cool as the summer breeze tickling her sun-kissed skin, neither rising her gaze or inclining her head to greet the shadow that had eclipsed the sun behind her. โAnd I'm not in yours,โ she carried on, pausing only to turn the page of the leather bound novel in her hands, โSo what do you want?โ
โYou were summoned, were you not?โ Remington grimaced; he had the tone of his father, and he wasn't keen on welcoming the old man's presence in his estate, not even in memory. โAnd yet, here you are,โ but he was cut off rather quickly. โHere I amโare you going to call me an insolent little girl now, too?โ Honestly, the thought probably hadn't crossed his mind, but he certainly didn't seem opposed. As Sophie had lain her book upon her lap, it was clear silence wasn't the answer she was looking for. Remington either didn't seem to notice, or rather didn't care. She could rarely tell the difference anymore. โNow is hardly the time, you need to pack.โ
Springing up from the carved wooden bench overlooking the estate grounds and garden, the clatter of her book and cellphone bouncing on the ground was only a fleeting afterthought. โWhat do you mean? I just got home and now your sending me away! Again?!โ She hardly felt like she was screeching, but her father recoiled with a quick step back all the same. โNo, I don't want too. Just let me stayโI can watch Edric!โShe'll never even know I'm here, father, I swear.โ
โSophie, calm down, I'm not shipping you overseas.โ The older man couldn't hide the surprise still construed in his brows; maybe it was just regret. โYou remember the Rhode's, don't you? From the Spring Charity Gala for Orphaned Wizarding Children?โ If the lackluster silence and the '******** you' face hadn't given him a hint, then nothing would. Luckily, he continued on without a sharp lashing to do so. โYou and Brandon Rhode shared a dance?โ He was still fishing; probably hoping for a spark of recognition or maybe even a smile.
โNo,โ she said, so final and resolute. โNo. No. No, no, no, no... No!โ She finally cracked, ripping away from him when he leaned in to comfort her. โYou promised.โ And he did. He probably didn't think she'd even remember, but she did. She would never forget. โSophie, don't. Not this, not nowโand don't hold your breathโlook at me!โ Her bottom lip was trembling and after searching the ground for the closest, sharpest weapon; deciding then that a rock could work just as well in a pinch if necessary until finally rising her gaze to meet his. โThis is not an engagement. Callidora and I have simply arranged for you to spend one month with the Rhode's, just one, for proper courtship.โ
โAnd if I don't like him?โ She spat. โThen we'll find another match for you.โ
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
____โโโ Serpent's Ascent
_____ โโโ Sandalwood Skies
_______โโโ 17 Years Old, 5โ5โ, 132lbs
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Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 8:33 pm
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A V A L O N โผ C A T L I N
Jobless Because ******** Family
Ie: The Three Broomsticks
When Avalon had found out about Sophieโs eventsโฆ. Sheโd rushed right over. Well kind of. Sheโd had to take a few moments to prepare herself for her own news. Maybe her news were cheer up her traumatized friend even. She was still pretty shocked about it herself. She had kind of known and been in denial. The throwing up, the weird food cravings, the fatigue, the soreness, the cramping, the mood swings, hell even the lack of a period could be written off to her alcohol and drug abuse. When she actually started showing though, she realized that she was indeed pregnant. She had thought about terminating it so many times. Hell sheโd already spent a good part of the pregnancy drinking away her worries. The kid was probably screwed already. But in the end she realized that her family was ********, and she didnโt want it to end with her. She wanted the baby more than sheโd ever admit out loud. She didnโt know how she was going to do it. She didnโt know how she was going to quit her addictions for the rest of the pregnancy. She didnโt know much of anything about babies. But she wanted the little girl inside of her so badly, that sheโd find a way. Sophie would help her. She knew that.
When sheโd decided to keep the baby sheโd gone to a free clinic and had a prenatal examine and all that jazz. Sheโd spoken with the doctor in length about what she needed to do and how the last 4 months of abuse could affect the baby. She had given her some contacts if she needed help quitting and had schedule another visit in a couple weeks. In general Ava hoped that with just Sophieโs help sheโd be able to quit for the next 5 months. Thatโs all she really wanted to do. She didnโt care about staying sober afterwards. She was already twitchy just from a few days clean so she was pretty sure she was going to go through hell and back before this kid was born. Itโd hopefully all be worth it though. The doc had asked about the father, but Ava slept around so often, she wasnโt even sure who the dad was. Based on the timing it was probably that pureblood bloke her da had tried to arrange her a marriage with. Sheโd banged him and then snuck out a window, like a ******** lady. Her father would never learn, but she didnโt really care anymore. She definitely wasnโt telling him that she was pregnant.
She sighed and glanced up at Sophie. They were sitting in the garden of her best friendโs home, far away from any listening ears. "You look like s**t Sophโฆ" She muttered, giving her friend a teasing smirk. Honesty was the best policy right? She shrugged and toyed with the hem of her dress. She had purposely worn something to cover her baby bump in case she chickened out, or if Sophie just wanted to talk about what had happened. "You wanna talk about it? Or do you want some goodโฆ or well at least shockingโฆ.news to distract you?"
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Dec 26, 2015 3:11 pm
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It is frightening what a smile can h i d e. ______
๐ถ ๐ด ๐ ๐ ๐ด ๐ ๐ท ๐
๐ด _๐บ ๐ถ ๐ท ๐ฏ ๐ฐ ๐ฌ _ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐
__ ๐๐ก๐ข๐๐๐๐ก __ ๐๐ __ ๐๐๐๐ฆ๐๐๐ข๐๐ก __ ๐ผ๐๐ก๐๐๐๐๐ก๐๐๐๐๐
`โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด `โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด `โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด `โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด
[Summer of 2032]
Sophie sat on the wooden bench hugging her knees against her chest. Despite the warm, sunny afternoon, she was buried under a heavy knit cardigan and cloaked in gray. She stared at everything, stared at nothing. Green grass sprawled into a manicured lawn, rainbows of flowers in every color lined the marble stone paths and blue rippling waters crystallized under the sun. But she saw none of this. Only shadows. Darkness lingered, she could still smell the corruption of rotten flesh, could taste the iron blood on her tongue. When she closed her eyes, she could see them. Meat and gristle clung to dirty yellow bones, ripping apart the earth from underneath her feet trying to pull her down. When the breeze trickles through her hair, she could almost feel the hot, stickiness sliding down her scalp again. "I feel like s**t," she admitted, though her unblinking gaze never wavered. Another stretch of silence divided them but Sophie was so scared to turn and look, as if Ava might disappear.
Hallucinations werenโt unusual, the healer had told her. But even so, she very much wanted Ava to be real. She didnโt want to wake up from this dream, even this was all it was: sitting by the garden on a sunny day. It was better than the alternative. Better than the nightmares, better than the demons. She was just so tired of running. Ava spoke suddenly though softly, but still Sophie jumped. โNo, noโฆโ she choked. She couldnโt talk. She had to run. But instead, she made herself sit there as her friend continued on. โTell me,โ she said, or demanded rather. Anything was better than the voices in her head. โWhatโd you do this time?โ Sophie said as she finally turned to face her. For a second, she almost felt the flicker of a smile touch her lips but couldnโt decide if it had just been her imagination.
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
____โโโ Serpent's Ascent
_____ โโโ Knitted in Gray
_______โโโ 17 Years Old, 5โ5โ, 125lbs
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
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Posted: Sat Dec 26, 2015 6:33 pm
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2015 2:13 pm
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It is frightening what a smile can h i d e. ______
๐ถ ๐ด ๐ ๐ ๐ด ๐ ๐ท ๐
๐ด _๐บ ๐ถ ๐ท ๐ฏ ๐ฐ ๐ฌ _ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐
__ ๐๐ก๐ข๐๐๐๐ก __ ๐๐ __ ๐๐๐๐ฆ๐๐๐ข๐๐ก __ ๐ผ๐๐ก๐๐๐๐๐ก๐๐๐๐๐
`โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด `โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด `โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด `โข.ยธยธ.โขยดยฏ`โข.ยธยธ.โขยด
Coiling her fingers around the hem of her sleeves, she sought to bury herself so deep inside her jacket sheโd cocoon herself from the outside world. It seemed easier. Her father, for once, had enabled her at every turn. She practically barricaded herself in her bedroom. Let herself rot beneath the blankets with only the company of the maggots feasting inside her brain. It was very hard to hold her attention on any one thingโit always wandered into nothingness. But it was hard to miss her friendโs dramatic gesture when she hopped up on both feet and as a child would, hiked her dress high over her head to reveal a curved pot belly and widened hips. โAva!โ Sophie gawked, her chin dropped to the floor and she wanted to flail her arms but was too awestruck to even move. Honey gold eyes blinked rapidly, and realizing now that she hadnโt been breathing, sucked in a sharp wind of oxygen. While her best friend was too busy cackling like a hyena, Sophie couldnโt stop from looking like a gawking bird. What the bloody hell is she thinking?! She wanted to scream. Her friend wasnโt prepared for this! Avalon could barely look after herself, much less a child! Sophie knew very well the number of hours sacrificed for a newborn child, did Ava? She spent night and day caring for Edric, if only to stay on tolerable terms with that dreadful woman. Avalon had no idea what she was getting into, and her addictions would only make matters worse. Sophie was miserably failing at trying to be happy for her friend, she could see how much Ava wanted this; she knew how scared she must be, even if she tried to play it off with that โI donโt give a rats arseโ attitude.
โAva, Iโฆโ she said, shaking her head slowly trying to find the words and courage to muster up a smile, โWhy do I have to be the da? Why canโt she have two mums?โ Sophie didnโt quite know it yet, but it was too late. She hadnโt even met the little baby but she was already in love. โI am here for you, whatever you need. We can do thisโฆ You donโt have to worry.โ The reassuring smile was the hardest part, but she mustered one up for Ava. โBut you know this means you have to stay somewhere, you canโt keep bouncing around from place to placeโฆ Itโs not good for the baby. Iโd offer for you to stay here but I donโt think thatโs wiseโฆ My da has a place, somewhere secretโฆโ Sophie said, almost hopeful, until she paused and suddenly remembered, โBut weโd need magic to get thereโฆ Maybe one of my daโs house elves could help? If you're interested...โ The island was abandoned, her father has no reason to visit the home, too many ill memories for him. Itโd be the perfect place for Ava to restโand stay out of trouble.
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
____โโโ Serpent's Ascent
_____ โโโ Knitted in Gray
_______โโโ 17 Years Old, 5โ5โ, 125lbs
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Posted: Sun Dec 27, 2015 3:24 pm
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A V A L O N โผ C A T L I N
Jobless Because ******** Family
Ie: The Three Broomsticks
Avalon waited quietly as Sophie went through a range of emotions. She could tell the smiles were forced, but she also knew that Sophie was just as excited as she was somewhere deep down. She knew it was crazy. She was 17 and thought she could have a baby? But she was going to do it. She wanted to do it. She needed to do it. She grinned when Sophie finally said something besides her name.
She stuck her tongue out teasingly. "Babies need a father and a mother figure didn't you know Soph?" She said solemnly, before snorting and bursting into laughter. "Anyways its great to see people's faces when I say the baby daddy is you. They get so confused." She was always such a prankster. She just loved to watch people squirm. It was the best thing ever. Besides the future she could already picture with her unborn baby. "Its a girl by the way. I found that out when I went to the free clinic." Of course it was a girl. Her and Sophie and a baby girl. It would be the perfect family. Ava just knew it. She wasn't really sure how hard a baby was to care for, but she figured that the two of them could figure it out together and well... they were alone in the world, and now they'd have a family together. That was all Avalon had ever wanted. A real, good, family. One that didn't scream and fight and hate each other.
She nodded her head when Sophie started going over details. She was right. Avalon was never anywhere long, and she sure as hell wasn't going back to her father. Her father would either make her abort the child or marry the stupid bloke who was the real father, and Ava wasn't doing either. She'd just started to freak out about what she was going to do when Sophie offered her father's secret island place. Ava had of course heard of it from Sophie, but never been there or anything. "I think that'll work perfectly Soph... You're da won't mind or you know find out about it?" She asked curiously. It wasn't like Remington was awful. He had a soft spot for Sophie of course, and he kind of just let them do whatever. He'd never bothered Avalon much. He wasn't nearly as bad as her own father. "Can we go like now? I mean I don't have much crap to pack or anything. Everything I can call my own is shoved in my car which is parked near by.... "
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun May 22, 2016 2:58 pm
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All good things must come to an end,
While all bad things are here to stay.
๐น๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ต๐๐๐
๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ข ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐
Liquor swam thicker in his veins than blood. Smoke clouded a thick gray fog around him exuding from the hundreds of cigars that had been smoked down to nothing. Ashes gathered around his feet, on his shoes, and even sat in clusters on his lap where they burned holes through the fabric of his clothing. Remington Nott had not risen from his lounge chair at the bar in the basement of his home. Not in weeks, maybe months. Eyes were bloodshot from alcohol and fatigue, and the circles under his eyes seemed to darken like the shadows of the falling sun. And he drank, and smoked, and drank again. Bottles that were decades old were uncorked and chugged by hand; their glass reflected meekly under the torchlight.
His children were gone. Both of them. One kidnapped, the other a runaway. What had he done to deserve this? Remington would've laughed at that if his lips weren't so chapped and his throat so dry. Instead, he puffed absent mindedly on another one of his cigars which caused a chunk of ash to fall on his shirt.
Sophie ran away. And it was all his fault. He should have never tried to arrange a marriage for her. That had to be why she left. It had to be why he walked in her room one day to find it had been emptied out of all her clothes and belongings with nothing left but a note. He tried to find her, but... Then, Edric was gone.
During the first month of his boy's disappearance, Remington had been so determined. He fought tooth and nail to search. Every lead and every contact lead to nothing, he was running in circles and someone out there was laughing at him and it made him sick to his stomach. Nothing the ministry was doing had helped, and he nearly cursed his brother and father into oblivion the moment they stepped on his door to offer their condolences. Remington hadn't wanted empty promises and rubbish apologies; he wanted answers! He needed help! And he argued and blamed Callidora from the very beginning; she should have been watching him! Never mind that they were both home when the boy went missing, and that he had been taking a nap besides. Despite all of the enchantments, all of the safeguards, all of the defenses, nothing had worked.
The second month, he began to lose hope. Less people were talking about the missing Nott child, less people who would be willing to sell any information they'd heard. Everything was quiet, and he was running out of places to search, people to interrogate, enemies to confront. All he could do was wait... And drink. Months have passed and Remington hadn't left the basement in weeks save to relieve himself, then continue his drinking. Often times, he would wonder if his son was okay. Or if he was even alive. And every once in a while, he found himself staring upwards at the ceiling wondering just what his dear wife has been up too during all this time. No doubt, enjoying herself. He scoffed at the thought then ran his fingers through his thick, unkempt beard. Over and over again, he found himself wondering: is life really worth living without the ones you love?
[OOC:]
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51 years old โ 6โ3โ โ 172lbs
Home โ Office โ Islandโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
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Posted: Tue May 24, 2016 9:11 pm
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โxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxยป wะฝere ยซxx
xxxBasement
xxxxxxxxยป wฮนัะฝ ยซxx
xxxxxxxxxRemington
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxยป าeelฮนng ยซxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAnnoyed
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxโ
ฦั c ฯ ฯ
ฮท ั ฮน ฮท g ัฯฯ
ั ะฒ ฦ ั ั ั ฮน ฮท g ั ัฯฯ
ฯฮนฮทษ ฯ
ฯ ฮน ฮท ษ ั ะฒ ั xxxxxxxxxxxx
ฮนั ััฮฑััั ฯฮนัะฝ ัฯฯ
ั f ฮฑ ะผ ฮน ฦ ั ฮฑฮทษ ัฮทษั ฮนฮท ัฯฯ
ั ะฒ ั ษ xxxxxxxxx
ฦณฯฯ
ื ั ะบ ั ฦ ฦ ฮฑฮทษ ะฝ ั ษ ั ษ ฯะฝัฮท ัฯฯ
cฯฯ
ฦษ ะฝฮฑฮฝั ฦัั xxxxxx
ฦณฯฯ
ั g ฯ
ฮฑ ั ษ ษ ฯ ฯ ฮท ; ัฯฯ
ั ษ ั ั ั ั ฯ
ฯ - ัฯฯ
ะผฯ
ัั ะฒั ฯ
ฯ ั ั ั xxx
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spaceCallidora had been pacing a dent in the floor of the living room the past several days. At first, she had been sympathetic to her husband, though not immune to the slight mirth at being free of the burden of his child. What it was with men and their offspring, she would never know. Wasn't it supposed to be the mother that couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her child? Calli wasn't sure she'd ever cared for her first son, even before she'd realized how defective he was. She'd tried to play the part, but she'd never cared. And had always resented him, for nearly killing her and then for needing her. Edric, she'd resented more, though she blamed the boy's father more than the child, so there was that, she supposed. Still, Remington had been distraught, and while she didn't care about Edric, she did care about her husband, at least a little. Loved him as much as she were capable of loving, which wasn't much, but it was all she had in her. Seeing the man in such a state pained her, and she'd waited for the boy to be found, if only to ease his suffering.
spaceBut, days had turned to weeks had turned to months, and there was no sign of the child. Remington's obsession with finding him had turned depression as the chances of finding him, and finding him alive at that, plummeted. Callidora only had so much sympathy in her soul, particularly when Remington had blamed her, and made his opinion on that matter quite clear. Shouting and shrieking and throwing things, mostly on her part, but he was far from innocent in the fighting. Eventually he'd retreated to the basement, and she'd hardly seen hide nor hair of him since. She'd left him to it, thinking that perhaps she'd be better off if he rotted down there. He'd nearly killed her for that child, and he couldn't even keep the boy safe? Ridiculous. And then, to blame her? Her apathy towards Edric wasn't so great that she'd have simply left him unattended, to be abducted from their own home. She hadn't allowed it to happen, it had slipped past her notice the same as his own, and in this matter, he was equally to blame, if not more so. It was his enchantments, his curses, his security that had failed. Not hers. Her only crime was that the boy hadn't been in her sight, which she could hardly be faulted for; he wasn't a toddler to be under his mother's constant surveillance. And she'd been saddled with him day in and day out since his birth, she could hardly be faulted for taking a break now that he should have been old enough to be without her for an hour or so. Particularly when she'd never wanted him, and his father had been so desperate for him that he'd nearly killed her to get him. Remington's supposed love, she thought, wasn't worth much. Except suffering. To her knowledge, no one he loved had ever benefited from it.
spaceAs she descended the stairs, she braced herself for whatever she might see. For all she knew, he was dead, having drunk himself into a coma or fallen in a stupor and cracked his neck. Though, she reasoned that if he'd died, the house-elves would've alerted her. Except that they were terrified of her, and knew better than to approach her. Her nose wrinkled, noting that the room certainly smelled like someone had died... She approached him, slumped in his chair, and announced her presence with a swift kick to his shin. "Nauseating," she hissed, her face a mask of pure disgust. "When was the last time you bothered to bathe, Remington? Honestly. Wallowing in your own filth won't bring him back." She resisted the urge to slap him across the face to see if he was even sober enough to realize she was there. It was rather hard to tell, after all.
spaceHer lip curled, and she crossed her arms. "You're delusional," she told him. "And a narcissist. The slightest tragedy and suddenly you can't cope, can't even function like a proper man. As if you really care about the boy; if you did, you'd have paid him more attention. And I don't mean when he was stolen, I mean period. But no, you were content to leave him with me, knowing I hated him, and hated you for forcing him on me. Face it, Remington, you couldn't care less about the boy, you only wanted an heir. A second failure, and your pride breaks, and you're nothing but a shell. Pathetic." She wasn't entirely sure what she was playing at; inciting him to anger, to try and raise him from his stupor? Or was she simply taking advantage of it and saying everything she believed was true. Because, by her reasoning, it was. He'd not cared about Edric enough to help raise the boy. Even once their son was old enough for his father to being teaching him, that had been the extent of their interaction. It'd fallen to her, to care for a child she had never wanted.
space"You nearly killed me for him," she whispered, voice dark. "But you didn't care enough about him to pay him any mind, you left me shackled to him like a taunt, a reminder of how little you cared about either of us. If it's an heir you want, Remington, just have another. Go out and ******** harlot after harlot until one of them comes up pregnant. We'll hide her away and say I carried it if you really need to pretend it's legitimate." She narrowed her eyes. "But you'll not get another from me; when you come out of this, if you try your meddling again, I'll kill myself and it just to spite you. I'd die anyway, and I wouldn't hesitate to take the boon of your betrayal with me."
spaceNot for the first time, she wondered if that's what she should've done the first time, anyway. Her jaw tightened, and she did slap him then. "What is the matter with you?!" she screamed, furious and confused and a million other things she couldn't name. Wouldn't name. Because she refused to admit she was worried for a man who'd been so willing to see her in the grave. She'd been laid up for months after Edric, and close to death for most of them. It was a miracle she'd recovered, and all for what? A child he didn't want, but insisted he deserved. "Trusting the ministry to find him, as if they'd see fit to piss on you to put out a fire. Your father and your brother, with their false condolences and condescending tones. You pride yourself so much on that little underground network, and it's failed you, and here you sit, defeated and useless. Man up."
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xxx ฦณฯฯ
'ัั ฮฑ c ั ฯ ฯ ะบ ; ัฯฯ
'ัั ฮฑ f ฮฑ ะบ ั
xxxxxx ฦณฯฯ
'ัั c ฯ ะผ ะผ ฮน ั ั ั ษ ;
xxxxxxxxx ฮนf ัฯฯ
ษ ฮน ษ ฮน ั ัฮฑั ัฯฯ
ษ ฮน ษ ฮน ั
xxxxxxxxxxxx ฮนf ัฯฯ
ษฮนษฮท'ั ั ฯ
c ะบ ฮน ั ฯ
ฯ ฮฑฮทษ ัฮฑั ั ฯ ฯ
ษ ฮน ษ
xxยป โณ โฅ โณ ยซxx xxยป oฯ
ั oา cะฝaracัer ยซxx speak now
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri May 27, 2016 5:21 pm
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All good things must come to an end,
While all bad things are here to stay.
๐น๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ต๐๐๐
๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ข ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐
Remington almost thought he heard footsteps. But he was imagining it; he had to be. At least there weren't voices this time, he thought with a sigh. But the echo grew louder, and through half-lidded eyes Remington had to wonder if he was asleep, awake, or somewhere caught in between. Where a lit cigar had once hung between his fingers, now only the filtered mouthpiece and its debris remained. Perhaps he had fallen asleep? Night and day blurred together. Terrors of utter ruin staved him from sleep just as the bitter cold and isolation begged for rest. And then, โHnggg,โ Remington groaned in response to the sudden strike of pain in his leg. Eyelids fluttered open as he watched on; detached and blooshot. He didn't answer her question. How could he? For all his hallucinations; she might not even be there, standing right in front of him. It could be no one. Nothing. And besides. He didn't know the answer to this ghost's question anyway. Instead, he brought the cool glass of a bottled brandy to his lips and swallowed.
โYou're delusional,โ she said, โAnd a narcissist.โ Perhaps this was Callidora, he tried to reason in his drunken stupor. Not even she had been this cruel in his worst nightmares, but perhaps, maybe those weren't dreams either. Tracing the length of her skirt until his gaze fixed on the floor at her feet, Remington chose silence. 'Maybe she's right,' the thought repeated. 'Maybe... Maybe..' Then she spat the word, โPathetic.โ He didn't flinch. Just craved another cigar. When the silence grew, he closed his eyes and waited for the end. For the cool kiss of iron at his throat, or the warmth of a wand at his temple. Would this be his embrace with death? But no, a chilling whisper haunted him and he opened his eyes once more.
'You would have been proud,' he wanted to say. 'It would have been worth itโI did it for you,' but he turned away in spite of this. It didn't matter, he has no heir, no lay to claim, no castle and no vaults to gift his wife. Every last speck of hope was gone. Even if by some miracle Edric was found, what would it matter? If he couldn't even protect his own son; how could he be entrusted with the responsibility as Keeper of the Nott Castle, Estate, and Vaults? Ha! He can't! And now? He never will. He wanted to laugh, but it was strangled in his throat with the threat of a choked sob. So he held his tongue again, and opted for silence. "But you'll not get another from me,โ he heard, so he shrugged.
His head snapped to one side when she struck his cheek and she screamed, โWhat is the matter with you?!โ In that moment, he only focused on the bittersweet sting plusing against the side of his face where her ring had caught his cheekbone. Slow gold eyes turned to stare, deadpanned and waiting. As the last spit of acid struck him, Remington shook his head. โAnd what,โ he said, slowly slurring his words, โwould you have me do?โ Eyes locked deliberately, his pallor complexion and sunken features reflected under the torchlight. โDeclare war?โ He ask rhetorically, snorted, then turned to look away.
Several minutes passed and all too calmly, he began with a simple date,โ... May 1999.โ He was only seventeen. โOberon Nott was my firstborn.โ Breathing slowly, he carried on in a low voice, one you'd have to struggle and lean in just to hear. โNovember 1999, he was murdered.....
โ2001, Chase... 2003, Hildegard... Despite being hidden. They're both dead now too.โ
โ2014, Sophie. Alive... but she left. And now....โ He didn't know why he was saying these things. He'd never told her of his previous children. Never wanted too. But now... Remington turned on her, this time, rising from his seat to tower over her. โAnd you dare think this is my second failure?โ He shook his head again, hissing between clenched teeth. โMy dear wife, you are sadly mistaken.โ His fists clenched at either side until blue veins popped and protruded through muscle. โWould you care to know why I've been so busy? Why I was never there. Because of you. I was trying to sell the shop that you hate so much. I was dissolving my assets underground. I was going to quit. And I was going to take that castle. For you, for us.โ He hissed, narrowing his red and gold eyes as he wavered in place, trying to keep his balance as the liquor swam through his senses. โI was going to give you everything,โ he began with a shout, then turned to mocking, โbut of course all you have ever ******** cared about were the chains that kept you shackled to a child.โ He snorted and spit on the ground.
โAre you ******** kidding me. You had house-elves, you had Sophie, you could have hired a bloody nanny why the ******** are you still beating the same dead horse. Bloody hell Callidora, if you mean to come down here and insult me, find new material!โ This time, he did stumble. He wavered just a little too far to the left and only barely caught his balance on the back of the chair.
โWhy are you even down here?โ He asked her, exasperated, leaning dependently on the chair while the room was starting to spin. When he looked up at her, he was seeing double. โYou have everything you ever wanted... What's missing? Why could you possibly be so unhappy?โ
[OOC:]
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
51 years old โ 6โ3โ โ 172lbs
Home โ Office โ Islandโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
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