Remington's Private Island

[Essy ze Ninja]

Feels like I’m waking from the dead
And everyone's been waiting on me

’Least now I'll never have to wonder
What it's like to sleep a year away

But were we indestructible
I thought that we could brave it all
I never thought that what would take me out
Was hiding down below

Remington Jagger Nott and Cassandra Sophie Nott

Days had passed, too many days to count, to be true, since he’d last docked his ship and perused up the steps to meet Dahlia hidden away in this whitewashed sanctuary. His fingers coiled around the handle of the ships power gear and spurned it down to a slow speed, the waves crashed at the break as he plowed through the treacherous and shallow waters where the rocks begged for wreckage. In silence, his daughter, Cassandra sat with one foot tucked beneath the other to cross her legs, her hands folded neatly in her lap while blonde hair sprayed behind her.

It wasn’t long before their echoing footsteps coiled around the steep stairway and then clung to the villa walls. A wave of Remington’s hand had unlocked the door and he slithered within, and behind him, his daughter was silent as a ghost. ”Dahlia, I’ve good news for you.” He smirked, eyes dancing with Fiendfyre, delighted by the skeletons he dug and the secrets he harnessed. Enraptured by the power, by the upper hand thrust to him once more by lady luck, and he wasn’t going to gamble it all away so easily.

”But first—I—“ Remington paused to take a side step, to reveal the golden little angel that was hidden behind his thick, wide robes that curled around robust shoulders. She smiled daintily, ever so quiet as she bent her knee and lifted the hem of her long dress for a polite curtsey. His hesitation lingered on his face, however, it was clear he didn’t intend for this, didn’t want for this. But he had no one to care for her, and he needed to see Dahlia. It’d been too long. ”I have someone for you to meet, Dahlia, this is my daughter, Cassandra Sophie Nott, and Sophie, this is Miss Dahlia.”

”Ever so lovely to meet you, Miss Dahlia,” Cassandra spoke gently, innocently. She was lying, of course, lying through her gritted teeth fashioned into a perfect smile. But a lie, nonetheless.

”Now run along outside, my sweet, go play in the gardens.” Remington suggested once introductions were over on each end. Without debate, she nodded her head and turned on her heel, dainty steps towards the outside world and the door closed firmly behind her.

╔══════════════╗
40 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 172lbs
Home ♛ Office ♛ Island
╚══════════════╝

Lost the battle, win the war

I'm bringing my sinking ship back to the shore

We're starting over, we'll head back in
There's a time and a place to die but this ain't it.

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Cara MiaKitty

 

[MJ Spooks]

Dahlia is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Wearing Alluring at the Islandspace
CURRENTLY // separated from Wesley Edgeworth // 'loving' Remington Nottspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // No onespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Lonelyspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'It's been a while since he's been by... Perhaps today.' spacespac
You belong to me, my snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over it.'
═════════════════════════════════

Dahlia, still seated, not caring to stand for him or his brat, could barely contain her annoyance when she saw the child on her father's heels. Really? He spent so little time with Dahlia so that he could always be there to tend to the her, and now he was even bringing the brat on his visits? Her eyes flashed dangerously. She stared down at the child, not bothering to smile or even pretend. The child might do so, but she was young, and it was obvious she was lying. It seemed she hadn't yet acquired the knack her father possessed. She would, in time. But, at the moment, Dahlia was pleased to know exactly where she stood with the child. She didn't like little Cassandra one bit. And it seemed little Cassandra didn't care for her either. Good. So they were on the same page, then.

When the little doll wandered off to the garden at her father's request, Dahlia turned her eyes to him, glaring. "Really, Remington? You couldn't part with her for a few hours? Far be it from me to tear you away from your perfect little angel... who lies through her teeth, just like her father." This was hissed through gritted teeth, an accusation and an insult. Dahlia had never cared much for children. Her own inability to bear more than a single child had been, in her eyes, a blessing, because it saved her the trouble of dealing with them. When her one successful conception resulted in a boy, she'd been perfectly happy, because she'd known that she would never have to even attempt having another. She'd hardly bothered to raise that boy, leaving him to the Elf... which had been a mistake, she admitted. But when the alternative was to handle his diapers, dirty her clothes with his food and spit-up... perish the thought. She had not bent herself to the whims of a child then, and she didn't appreciate being forced to do so now.

Her eyes narrowed on Remington. She set down her book, finally, but remained in her chair. If he could hardly deign to clear a moment of his time for her attentions, she should hardly be expected to stand for him. Or appear enthusiastic at his visit. Particularly when she was clearly not important enough to warrant a true visit. His child was young, she required attention. If she were here, Dahlia could bet that she would essentially be playing host to the brat. "I know I'm hardly more than a dalliance to you, but you could at least offer me a shred of respect and not force me to share what little time I have with her. Since she gets so much of it to herself. My pride might be shattered, but the shards of it are all I have left." For once, the air of seduction was absent from her anger. She was well and truly offended. She'd been slighted by her husband for the foolish desire of their foolish spawn, and now her... whatever Remington was, would do the same? Would she never be granted the attention she deserved? She might be older now, no longer the young prize she'd been when she'd wed, but she was still beautiful, desirable, and of exceptional breeding. She should be cossetted and spoiled, not made to play second fiddle to a child!


═════════════════════════════════
Soon, I know you'll see you're just like me.'

(( OOC: ))
...

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Essy ze Ninja

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

Nothing ever stops all these thoughts and the pain attached to them
Sometimes I wonder why this is happening
It's like nothing I can do would distract me when

I think of how I shot myself in the back again
'Cause from the infinite words I could say I
Put all pain you gave to me on display

But didn't realize instead of setting it free I
Took what I hated and made it a part of me

Remington Jagger Nott

Amiability was caught at its throat and thrown out the window, there was no place for it here, it seemed. The sardonic slide of his lips broke into a mirthful smile, poised with poison. Wretched eyes wrought from gold and hammered under iron held a steely glint, he dared her to provoke and she did not disappoint. Tongue thrashed against chiseled teeth. Silence enraptured him, it rattled him deep in his bones as he stood stock still and weathered through her storm unfazed. Hell lurched from his throat, black tongues slithered, dying to escape the confines of ravenous teeth and rape her sanity, what little left there was.

She hadn’t the dare to rise, to bequeath him with the delight of a smile that belonged to him. By every means, she was his. Her disputes were no longer hers and her wellbeing lie on his shoulders, the responsibilities were astounding but he did not shirk them. Remington may never admit it, but it was the control he needed more than anything; far more than the love any woman might offer, and far, far more than any sparkle of gold could glitter. In his crumbling world, both hands burned to hold the reins tight, tighter, and all the while hoping the leather won’t just snap.

Her tongue clicked callous and greedy. The whims of a child, she was, with her dignity’s hands outstretched and fingers clawing. A growl reverberated in the chasm of his chest, the thud of his heart rasped against the bones of ribcage just begging to be freed. Slowly, the mechanics of his arm churned to rise and his fingers slipped behind the breath of space in his robes. For a moment, it was almost as if he meant to brandish his wand. His eyes screamed punishment. But a black velvet box was protruded, and he carelessly tossed it in the air, his precision careless and lacking and he wouldn’t have been surprised if it slid down her dress and clattered to the floor with the jewelry scattered. ”Oh, yes,” he agreed, wholehearted and flushed with compassion. ”You must forgive me,” Remington begged, and for that split second, the earnest sincerity could almost be counted as just that, but it withered and tarnished and bled with ridicule as it hung in the air. He snarled. ”How foolish of me to poise my daughter into a young lady, foolishness. Mayhaps I ought send her away and hope she’ll end up just like your darling son!

“How is he anyway? Still with that Aldred girl, isn’t he?” His words meant to stab. He knew the girls’ parents, and he knew them well. Their blood, their ideals, their journey through Hogwarts; he’d followed in two years behind. But he’d heard of the devastation of the mother, but back then, she was still only known as Willis. Whatever it was that had happened, had tainted her soul, he felt it before he ever really knew.

”Hold your tongue, before it’s too late.” He warned through steely eyes, narrowed in glare. ”Or need I remind you exactly why it was that you’ve been ‘shattered,’ in the first place.” His fingers curled into a fist; he’d never struck a woman before, but there was a first time for everything.

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╔══════════════╗
40 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 172lbs
Home ♛ Office ♛ Island
╚══════════════╝

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Cara MiaKitty

 

[MJ Spooks]

Dahlia is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Wearing Alluring at the Islandspace
CURRENTLY // separated from Wesley Edgeworth // 'loving' Remington Nottspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // No onespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Lonelyspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'It's been a while since he's been by... Perhaps today.' spacespac
You belong to me, my snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over it.'
═════════════════════════════════

Dahlia sneered at him. Within the deepest recesses of her mind, warnings sounded, but she could hardly hear them over her own indignation. The jewelry box cluttered to the floor, its contents spilling. The vain, shallow part of her was exceptionally pleased with his offering, but the green-eyed monster was in control now, and he was insulted. He thought he could buy her forgiveness? Give her a few baubles and she'd ignore the fact that he'd brought her his brat? He'd stolen everything of her, was all she truly had left in the world, a position that she'd placed herself in, true, but then, that was logic speaking, and she cared little for logic when she was in such a state. The point was, she despised having to share him, having nothing to call her own, aside from the trinkets he offered, the clothes she wore. This was not her home, nothing in this home belonged to her aside from that which he'd given her. So, she sneered at him, even as her hands clawed in their place, as if they would at any moment betray her and grab up those emeralds and diamonds. "Oh, by all means, teach her civility, teach her to lie with such a sweet smile... but I'd advise you ensure that the lessons have been learned before you send her out in public, Remington dear. She's rather transparent in her deceptions."

Her words were scornful, full of a sticky, sweet tone of superiority. All that fell when he brought up her own offspring. At this, finally, she stood, staring into his eyes with hate she'd shown no one, not even her fool of a husband. Wesley was merely weak; Remington was b*****d if there ever was one, manipulating her plying on her weaknesses and her shame. Her gaze narrowed, her expression full of contempt and fury, though the briefest bit of pain could be seen in her eyes, just for a moment. "Don't you dare speak of him to me! I will not hear it! That weak little fool is dead to me! As if I could care less about what filth he courts, what abominations his father allows in his home!" At his warning, she stood closer, rising up to him so that her chest was almost touching his. She didn't see the warnings, didn't hear the voices screaming that this was madness. As if she needed the reminder as to what'd positioned her in his merciful hands (and wasn't that a joke if she'd ever heard one!) in the first place!

Her lip curled and her fists clenched. She had no thought of her wand at this moment, no she was beyond that. Even knowing that it wouldn't end well for her, she wanted to strike him. To hurt him, as he'd hurt her. She tried, truly tried, to contain that urge, but it was a losing battle. "Do not think to order me about! Do not think that just because I need you that I am your slave, to be treated like dirt beneath your feet! I am of noble blood, the same as you! You shall not command me about as if I were one of the House-Elves! I will not stand for it!" Her hand reached out to strike him across the cheek, punctuating her words. She knew as soon as she began the action that she would regret it, that she had never made such a mistake, except perhaps the day she first entered her store. But it was too late. The move was made. Even if she could stop it, her intention was unmistakable. He would seek retribution. She could only hope that some shred of affection would stay his hand enough that she would escape relatively unscathed.


═════════════════════════════════
Soon, I know you'll see you're just like me.'

(( OOC: ))
See how much I love you, Essy? ;3 Have fun!

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Essy ze Ninja

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

Nothing ever stops all these thoughts and the pain attached to them
Sometimes I wonder why this is happening
It's like nothing I can do would distract me when

I think of how I shot myself in the back again
'Cause from the infinite words I could say I
Put all pain you gave to me on display

But didn't realize instead of setting it free I
Took what I hated and made it a part of me

Remington Jagger Nott

Gold fire flashed in the forge; red, orange, and yellow flames greedily licking at his iris, until the iron core pupil burned black as night and the rim flashed white. Hammer and anvil clashed, the crash echoing in high pitch as her words burned him fiercer than any smelted metal could. Veins burst, rising to the surface of his flesh in his neck as the tension in his muscles were taut as the strings of the devil. Her sinister words coupled with a voice so bittersweet reminded him of someone, someone he cared not to remember at a time like this. The accusations of his daughter could no longer be ignored when they dripped so maliciously from her lips, their origins forever oblivious to him. ”How dare you—“ He began defiantly, but she cut him off all at once. Dahlia had raised to her feet; her pride and honor insulted and drug through the dirt behind her every purposeful step.

He stood firmly, statuesque against the storm. Her madness raged high overhead, a tempest brew in black clouds and red waters. Her insults hurled forth, striking down to the ground with malice, one tornado after another. Remington didn’t dare recoil. He didn’t dare to breathe. Oxygen was curled at his throat, caught in the chaos. Dahlia fought a losing war. Her hand surged through the air, and struck the bone of his cheek with devastating force, the collision snapped his head back and the sound echoed loudly throughout the room.

He froze for just that moment, complete and utter shock painted his features as the rush of swelling red was already faintly brushing his flesh. His vision bled black. Motions blurred and colors thrashed with lines and shapes as he threw himself forward and latched his fingers tight around Dahlia’s neck, cutting off her airway with a heavy hand. Wind burst around him as he rushed, she was gliding on the heels of her feet backwards until he slammed her back up against the wall. She was looking down at him now, several inches high above his head and his fingers digging into her trachea. ”What do you have to say now?” He taunted her, his own voice deceptively sweet as honey while her lungs struggled. ”Hmmmm?”

And then, just over his shoulder, he heard her voice.”Daddy… What are you doing?” Little Sophie could barely see the top of Dahlia’s head above Remington. His back was turned to her, and she couldn’t understand what was happening.

Remington didn’t respond at first. He waited, his eyes locking into Dahlia’s, cementing this moment in his memory before he dropped her without warning. ”Sophie, my sweet, it’s time for your lunch.” Airy voiced, he turned his back on Dahlia to smile down at his daughter as if nothing had happened before taking her hand and guiding her into the kitchen. He left her there, once for and all.

╔══════════════╗
40 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 172lbs
Home ♛ Office ♛ Island
╚══════════════╝

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Cara MiaKitty

 

[MJ Spooks]

Dahlia is...spacespacespacespace
CURRENTLY // Wearing Alluring at the Islandspace
CURRENTLY // separated from Wesley Edgeworth // 'loving' Remington Nottspaces
CURRENTLY WITH // No onespacesp
CURRENTLY FEELING // Lonelyspacespa
CURRENTLY THINKING // 'It's been a while since he's been by... Perhaps today.' spacespac
You belong to me, my snow white queen.
There's nowhere to run, so let's just get it over it.'
═════════════════════════════════

Dahlia hardly had a moment to realize what an error she'd made before his entire demeanor changed. Something had snapped, she could see it in his eyes. Where before, he had been cold, offended but still in control, as soon as her hand made contact, it all went away, shattered under the force of her hand. She took a step back, cowering from the monster, no longer a man, before her, trying to apologize, whimpering like a dog, but it was too late. His hand curled around her throat, and he slammed her into the wall. Her hands went to his, trying to pull it away, to get him to release her, but she was weak, and he was oh, so strong. She could feel her body choking on the sudden lack of breath and could do nothing but await the end. His mocking words scarred her almost as much as the hand at her throat. She sputtered and groaned but could make no words, couldn't force air either in or out. She closed her eyes, sure that it would be over soon, and...

The voice of that dreadful child rang in her ears, but this time, Dahlia was thankful for the girl's presence. Later, she might think that the entire scenario would've been avoided had the child not been there in the first place, but at this moment, she was the only thing that saved Dahlia. The look Remington gave her, his eyes locking onto hers, chilled the woman to the bone. His voice, pulled so sweetly from his lips, seemed to come from somewhere else entirely, for they were so at odds with his horrible visage. She crumbled to the floor when he dropped her, hands going to her throat and her wand, grabbing hold of one as if to protect it from another attack and the other for some way of defending herself. It was unnecessary, though; he turned his back on her, and, without even a look over his shoulder, walked away.

Dahlia stayed there for a while, her porcelain skin ashen, her eyes glazed. She breathed slowly and deeply, and each breath hurt her throat all the more. She could hear him and his daughter, acting for all the world like she wasn't mere yards away, clutching at her own throat and fearing for her life. Eventually, Dahlia stood on shaky legs, clutching the furniture to move. She saw the jewels on the floor, and took them, eyeing them almost sadly, wistfully. She was such a selfish creature... of course she would take them. They were beautiful, after all... like she. But she was broken, and they were not. She stumbled from the home, down the walkway, to the dock, and summoned the boat, as she'd seen Remington do dozens of times. For a moment, she'd feared it wouldn't come to her, but it did, and she was glad, for she had no idea what she would've done if she'd been well and truly trapped here. She climbed into it with some difficulty and had it take her to shore, where she apparated away, never to return.


═════════════════════════════════
Soon, I know you'll see you're just like me.'

(( OOC: ))
** Exit; End Scene **

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Essy ze Ninja

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

It is frightening what a smile can h i d e. ______

𝐶 𝐴 𝑆 𝑆 𝐴 𝑁 𝐷 𝑅 𝐴 _𝑺 𝑶 𝑷 𝑯 𝑰 𝑬 _ 𝑁 𝑂 𝑇 𝑇
__ 𝒢𝑟𝑎𝒹𝓊𝑎𝑡𝑒 _ 𝑜𝑓 _ 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 _ 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙
`•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´ `•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´ `•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´ `•.¸¸.•´¯`•.¸¸.•´

[Summer of 2032]


Hellhounds howled to the half-moon, thunder and lightning thrashed like wild beasts in the night as the onslaught of rain poured down from them like sweat. Summer storms weren’t an unusual occurrence for the Northern Irish lands, but it might as well have been a curse. "Of course it starts raining right after Willow falls asleep," Sophie murmured to herself, and to Ava, if she was even still in the room. Sophie was painting, and all sense of time was thrown out the window once she had dabbed her paintbrush and splashed it across the blank easel. It’s been years since she last painted, and it showed. Her colors were muddling together, her proportions were off and her hands clumsy from lack of practice. Still, the light silhouette of a sprawling shipyard reached across the canvas, rich hues of blue contrasted the sea and the overcast sky of clouds.

Scattered around her workspace, several leather trunks had taken up residence in the living room. Because no, the canvas, paintbrushes and acrylic paints couldn't be where she left them; they had to be put up in storage. Shay had levitated most of the trunks down stairs but Sophie shooed the house-elf away to dig through it all herself. The first chest had nothing but antiques; artifacts that her father had either left behind for a purpose, or had just simply forgotten about. She shoved that black leather trunk aside and continued her search until every painting tool she had found was scattered somewhere beside her. Which lead to the collective mess of tubed paints in a rainbow scatter at her feet, the paint stained rags and empty glass mason jars half-filled with murky water.

The thunderstorm began slow, at first, and she had only begun outlining the deepest shades in her painting when blackest cloud had finally rolled over the island and a wall of rain slammed down. It thundered and echoed against the roof as lightning streaked through the windows. Sophie suspected if the room hadn’t already been illuminated by candles, the electricity would’ve cut out with the sudden crack of thunder. ”Bloody hell,” she breathed out in a whisper, the winds were picking up, pebbles and branches drummed against the walls of the house like gunfire. Another howl of hellfire split the skies, and just over her shoulder, Sophie heard the very distinct ”sniffle, sniffle,” of a baby and froze. Oh no. Oh please, no. Sophie closed her eyes and cringed. But it was too late. Willow was awake and all at once, the storm crashed in on them. Wind and water thrashed together, ripping apart and coming together in cyclone spurts, as if a tornado had just crashed in their living room. Sophie was swept off her bench and hit the floor; the easel and canvas flung apart and swung in separate directions. One of the windows must have broken, she rationalized. Blue, red, green, and yellow paint splattered all across the room, then small picture frames, couch cushions, wooden chairs, and broken pieces of glass flung across the room in scattered chaos. The black trunk dragged across the floorboards and hit the coffee table, both launched upwards into the ceiling. The table thrashed into pieces; the chest broke into two halves and the lid ripped from its hinges. Sophie never knew what hit her. But she sucked in a deep, stifling breath, then her body went limp. Her back hit the floor and the gray of her shirt thickened into wet, blackness right where a dagger had plunged in her gut.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
____◆◇◈ Remington's Island
_____ ◆◇◈ Painted Tragedy
_______◆◇◈ 18 Years Old, 5’6”, 135lbs
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

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Devlyn Maycry

 

[Devlyn Maycry]

A V A L O N ▼ C A T L I N

Jobless Because ******** Family
Ie: The Three Broomsticks

Avalon had been resting in a hallway halfway between where Sophie was and where Willow was. She'd finally gotten her to sleep and Sophie had wandered off to paint. Ava didn't want to interrupt Sophie's work, and so she rested in the hallway somewhere between sleep and awake, drifting in and out. She had just barely drifted into an actual sleep when a giant crash of thunder sent her bolting to her feet. She heard the soft sniffle of Willow as the thunder crashed her awake, and went running to the child.


The newborn was officially screaming her head off by the time Ava got to her, and picking her up did nothing to calm her. She heard chaos coming from the other room though, and couldn't take the time to calm Willow right now. She raced across the hallway to the living room to find it in chaos. She stared in horror as everything spun around in circles and banged against cielings. It was like the storm had somehow made its way into the house. She ducked and turned, protecting Willow, as a mason jar came blasting through the air and shattered against her back. Ow? What the hell was going on. She turned in time to see the black chest go flying into the air and snap in half. The dagger came practically out of nowhere, and before Ava could do anything or call for help, it plunged into Sophie's gut.


"NooooO!" Her scream echoed out, a half sob, half screech. Her voice cracking as her friend tumbled to the ground limp. At her terrified scream, Willow suddenly stopped screaming, and everything in the room froze exactly where it was. Ava froze and stared down at the newborn in her arms. Barely even a month old.... but she was technically a pureblood.... a pureblood witch.... It was magic.... Ava took a slow deep breath and held the child close to her. If anything scared the baby again, there was no telling what would happen. The thunder still echoed around the house, but the child seemed calmer now. She was no longer staring at her mother, but instead, she was staring at a wall splattered in Sophie's paints. "That's it Willow. See mummy is here. Nothing can hurt you in my arms." She whispered soothingly to the baby. All the while, she was making her way over to Sophie's crumpled form. She gently place the baby in a safe area on her back, making sure she could still see the paints. They seemed to be keeping her calm, and Avalon really didn't need another whirlwind of catastrophe to hurt her as well.


Her fingers reached to the blood soaked body of her best friend, and slowly removed the dagger, before pressing her fingers against the bleeding wound. It didn’t look like a normal wound though. "SHAY!" She screamed, sobs choking into the shout, and her voice cracking again. The house elf appeared almost immediately and got to work trying to help Sophie, shooing her out of the way to work, before finally turning to Ava defeated. ”I can’t do anything Lady Avalon. Tell me what to do” Ava stared at the creature for a few very long moments. Her mind blank. Her best friend was going to die? She started shaking her head back and forth. Her best friend couldn’t die. No no she wouldn’t let it. She would not let Sophie die. They were barely even adults. She couldn’t raise Willow without Sophie!


Suddenly her mind flashed back to one of her dad’s stupid pureblood parties. The man she’d met there. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out what he was. He was the undead. The walking undead. She had gotten close to merely because she amused him she thought. Or maybe because she was different from all the other stuffy purebloods. But he…. He could save Sophie. She knew it. "Shay go find a man named Pestilence! He’s a vampire. Pureblood. He can save her. Tell him…. Tell him if he saves her…. He can…. He can have me as well…" She whispered the last part. She knew he wouldn’t save Sophie for no reason at all… but he would if he got her too. He was always looking for new clan members. Pureblood ones. And with both Sophie and Ava in his ranks… he was all but guaranteed Willow in the future. "HURRY SHAY!" She sobbed out, as the house elf disappeared with a crack. She pulled Sophie’s head into her lap, and pet her hair gently. "It’s going to be okay Soph…. it’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay." She wasn’t sure if she was reassuring herself or Sophie anymore. She turned and gently picked Willow back up and cuddled her against one shoulder while she pet Sophie’s hair with the other hand. Shay had at least attempted to stop the bleeding so she wouldn’t bleed out before Pestilence got there. The dagger must have been one of Remington’s cursed objects that he just left laying around like an idiot. He’d regret it when he realized it’ had almost killed his daughter.

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Essy ze Ninja

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[Essy ze Ninja]

William Nott the Second
Keeper of the Nott Castle and Estates
Head Hit Wizard
╔════════════════════╗
【WHEN:: Summer of 2038 】
【WHERE:: Remington's Island 】
【WITH WHO:: Remington 】
╚════════════════════╝

”This was all my fault, wasn't it?” He sighed, long and sad. Deep wrinkles creased his features with guilt and contempt, the years had caught on to him at last, but they had been much kinder to him than his baby brother, who looked almost ten years William's senior. The trauma, the stress, the paranoia and depression and anxiety, and all of that alcohol, it just caught up to Remington like a freight train. The younger man had peppered hair, more white than gray, an unkempt beard and bags under eyes that were open but could not see. ”I should have... I should've listened to you. I should never have let it get this far. I could have stopped it, and I didn't... Remington, I'm sorry. Just... talk to me, please.” But he wouldn't, or he couldn't, Will didn't know and the healers could only speculate: the brain might have been too badly damaged from lack of oxygen, or maybe it was just trauma and grief manifesting in akinetic mutism.

”What do you want me to say? That I would do anything? That father and I will welcome you back with open arms? ...Because I don't think that's going to happen. Even now. I don't even think father's visited you once since you've been here. How long has it been, anyway? At least you're safe now...” Will scoffed and laughed, realizing how pathetic that was.

”And not home, with that wife of yours. She's worse than Guiseley was... At least you tried to protect me. I never believed you, even when I did believe you, I couldn't."

"Father seemed so sure that it was all your fault. Only Tay wanted to believe you... and I just couldn't have that, could I? Now everything is a mess.” Every breath felt like a sigh, the guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders the longer he sat in isolated silence. His brother was propped against pillows, blank eyes gazing out. Sounds would seem to stir him, and if Will talked long enough, Remington's eyes would eventually drag across the room to find the source, but would never speak. Most of the time though, he would blink at the wall until speckles of drool dribbled down his chin.

”He was the one who took your son, wasn't he? I never wanted to believe it at first but... if he did... why? What happened between you two?... I'm ashamed to say it, but I'm afraid to ask him. Even if I did, would I believe him to tell the truth?"

"....You're still going to make me do it, aren't you?” Will watched Remington shift his gaze, staring into one eye and then the next. ”You're right. This is my fault. I have to do it. He is my son and I have to know. But first...” Will had to consult his father.