by Steam filled the room, causing the small dark space to become muggy, heavy. It was hardly breathable. The large bay windows that usual brought light - the light of day, or the twinkling ones of a Paris night - into the room had the curtains closed tight. The man didn't want any light in the room - he hadn't wanted light in the room for weeks, months now. That, in itself, was one of the reasons he was doing this now.
Roul didn't recognize himself any more. He had lost - that was the one thing he knew - but it was more than that. He hadn't just lost, he had given up. Every rule that he lived his life by was gone, warped and ruined. He didn't know where he stood, and he didn't know who he was. The Coeur Noir held himself together, took things in stride and bent with them. There was a reason that he was the hero to thieves young and old. But that wasn't what Roul was now.
Roul was a heartbroken mess, and he wasn't going to stand for it any longer.
Sweat dropped down his face, matting his hair in odd directions, and causing the skin on his chest to glisten as his gaze went over the words in the book in front of him. In a low voice he was muttering them under his breath. For all purposes he looked like a madman. He had a goal, and he wasn't going to be distracted from it. This version of him, this person that he did not recognize all steamed from one point in time - one person. If he could forget all that, then all this would go away.
Roul needed it to go away.
Glancing between the book and the ingredients he had set on his sleek coffee table, Roul was taking great care to measure out what was next on his recipe. He was so focused what he was doing, that his usually alert senses were shut off, all focused on what he was doing instead of the world around him. So much so, that he missed the sharp click of heals on his hardwood floor that only meant one thing - one thing he usually noticed right away, but today didn't notice at all until the dreaded voice caused the man to jump ever so slightly, shaking his usually so steady hand, and knocking more of the herb into the potion than he had intended to do. At the very moment this occurred, his focus shifted from desire to anger, and Roul once more missed something he normally would never miss.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Blanche, outfit sleek and put together, long brown hair expanding almost immediately as is absorbed the humidity, and brown eyes alive with an accusing fire. She had caught her brother in an act that he shouldn't be doing, and the youngest sibling glee was being drowned out by overall concern. She recognized the rash actions that he was taking as unusual for the distant boy she had grown up with.
"Forgetting." Roul's shoulder's were defensive, curled in, the muscles visibly tensing under the skin as he turned back to his book. The fervent glow was still in them - the hunger to conclude his task.
"Forgetting?"
"Yes, the thing that you do every time you remember this is not your house. Don't you have somewhere else to be Blanche?" Roul still hadn't looked up at her, after the first glance he had dismissed his sister as nothing more than an inconvenience, much like she had been his entire life. The tiny voice always getting in his way, wanting to tag along or judge, but not stopping him. Blanche had never, and would never stop him from getting what he wanted.
The clicking started again as the young woman marched her way around the room, ripping the book from under her brother's nose, quicker then he could stop her. Turning her back to him, pushing back the grabbing hands with her shoulder as she skipped the words on the page, her expression becoming more and more grim as her face became equally pale. She shot one look over her shoulder at her brother, before glancing back at the book.
"You've gone insane. You've actually snapped. This is about her isn't it?" Blanche didn't even need to wait for his response to continue. She merely stepped back as his lunge came for the book, causing him to miss but sending a handful of liquids and herbs into the potion, causing it to fizzle. "You're acting like a school girl. You're worse than a school girl. Grow up and get over it."
"Give me the book Blanche."
"Act your age Roul."
He dived again, and this time she spun, her arm knocking things over and smashing glass and spilling more things about the room. The room was already so filled with steam no one could notice the difference between what the potion was supposed to be doing, and what was supposed to be a danger warning.
"School girl's are right. It hurts - I'm simply making it better."
Blanche snorted, shaking her head. The paling complexion from her horror was quickly brightening again with the heat of the room. The next lung her brother made, got a hold of the edge of the book from her, but she tugged violently and the weak hold he had slipped off completely, digging his arm into the glass across the table causing a large gash to appear, blood seeping onto the mess they were creating as well.
"Have you thought about all the other things you're going to forget; magic isn't an exact science - you're erasing your life Roul."
Roul was having none of it; his life wasn't worth going forward with at this point, it wasn't worth remembering. He needed to pick himself up and this is the only way he knew how to do it. He had thought this through and this was his decision.
He had lost once and he wasn't going to let his sister make him lose again. With a growl, he dove across the room faster that Blanche could expect, causing them both to begin to roll around the ground. Just as they had when they were children the two siblings were in a roll around kicking and screaming fight over the book.
Across the floor the two rolled, hair being pulled, elbows, legs, hands, knees crashing into each others. With a forceful yank, Roul came out on top getting to his feet for a moment with the book before Blanche lunged or his leg tripping him up as he tried to take a step. Falling to the floor with a loud thud, the time it took him to get over the shock was all that she needed to move across the floor get up and grab the book for herself. With it in her hand again she began to run. Roul of course, was older and always faster. He was after her and upon her in a few moments. Grabbing onto her shoulders he whirled her around, promptly grabbing onto the book. Stubborn as both of them were - the wonders of sharing the same genes - this promptly turned into a tugging match. Above the cauldron, where he had caught the girl the siblings began to pull back and forth.
Roul. Blanche. Roul. Blanche. Roul. Blanch.
The whole time unnoticed to either of them, the open wound of Roul's was slowly dripping his own blood into the cauldron, turning the formally pale potion into a deep dark black.
One drop. Two drop.
Three.
Four.
Five.
With a sudden tug, Roul over came his sister, tugging her closer to the cauldron, the bubbling black potion, just as the thing erupted, smoke - not steam - filled the room, cloaking them both, and the liquid exploded drenching the girl in hot goo, and before she could do anything about it, caught a mouthful as well.
It only seemed natural to Blanche to swallow what was in her mouth. On some level it was like she couldn't not do it.
When the smoke cleared, Roul was motionless on the floor, the so desired book hanging limply in his hand.
Roul didn't recognize himself any more. He had lost - that was the one thing he knew - but it was more than that. He hadn't just lost, he had given up. Every rule that he lived his life by was gone, warped and ruined. He didn't know where he stood, and he didn't know who he was. The Coeur Noir held himself together, took things in stride and bent with them. There was a reason that he was the hero to thieves young and old. But that wasn't what Roul was now.
Roul was a heartbroken mess, and he wasn't going to stand for it any longer.
Sweat dropped down his face, matting his hair in odd directions, and causing the skin on his chest to glisten as his gaze went over the words in the book in front of him. In a low voice he was muttering them under his breath. For all purposes he looked like a madman. He had a goal, and he wasn't going to be distracted from it. This version of him, this person that he did not recognize all steamed from one point in time - one person. If he could forget all that, then all this would go away.
Roul needed it to go away.
Glancing between the book and the ingredients he had set on his sleek coffee table, Roul was taking great care to measure out what was next on his recipe. He was so focused what he was doing, that his usually alert senses were shut off, all focused on what he was doing instead of the world around him. So much so, that he missed the sharp click of heals on his hardwood floor that only meant one thing - one thing he usually noticed right away, but today didn't notice at all until the dreaded voice caused the man to jump ever so slightly, shaking his usually so steady hand, and knocking more of the herb into the potion than he had intended to do. At the very moment this occurred, his focus shifted from desire to anger, and Roul once more missed something he normally would never miss.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Blanche, outfit sleek and put together, long brown hair expanding almost immediately as is absorbed the humidity, and brown eyes alive with an accusing fire. She had caught her brother in an act that he shouldn't be doing, and the youngest sibling glee was being drowned out by overall concern. She recognized the rash actions that he was taking as unusual for the distant boy she had grown up with.
"Forgetting." Roul's shoulder's were defensive, curled in, the muscles visibly tensing under the skin as he turned back to his book. The fervent glow was still in them - the hunger to conclude his task.
"Forgetting?"
"Yes, the thing that you do every time you remember this is not your house. Don't you have somewhere else to be Blanche?" Roul still hadn't looked up at her, after the first glance he had dismissed his sister as nothing more than an inconvenience, much like she had been his entire life. The tiny voice always getting in his way, wanting to tag along or judge, but not stopping him. Blanche had never, and would never stop him from getting what he wanted.
The clicking started again as the young woman marched her way around the room, ripping the book from under her brother's nose, quicker then he could stop her. Turning her back to him, pushing back the grabbing hands with her shoulder as she skipped the words on the page, her expression becoming more and more grim as her face became equally pale. She shot one look over her shoulder at her brother, before glancing back at the book.
"You've gone insane. You've actually snapped. This is about her isn't it?" Blanche didn't even need to wait for his response to continue. She merely stepped back as his lunge came for the book, causing him to miss but sending a handful of liquids and herbs into the potion, causing it to fizzle. "You're acting like a school girl. You're worse than a school girl. Grow up and get over it."
"Give me the book Blanche."
"Act your age Roul."
He dived again, and this time she spun, her arm knocking things over and smashing glass and spilling more things about the room. The room was already so filled with steam no one could notice the difference between what the potion was supposed to be doing, and what was supposed to be a danger warning.
"School girl's are right. It hurts - I'm simply making it better."
Blanche snorted, shaking her head. The paling complexion from her horror was quickly brightening again with the heat of the room. The next lung her brother made, got a hold of the edge of the book from her, but she tugged violently and the weak hold he had slipped off completely, digging his arm into the glass across the table causing a large gash to appear, blood seeping onto the mess they were creating as well.
"Have you thought about all the other things you're going to forget; magic isn't an exact science - you're erasing your life Roul."
Roul was having none of it; his life wasn't worth going forward with at this point, it wasn't worth remembering. He needed to pick himself up and this is the only way he knew how to do it. He had thought this through and this was his decision.
He had lost once and he wasn't going to let his sister make him lose again. With a growl, he dove across the room faster that Blanche could expect, causing them both to begin to roll around the ground. Just as they had when they were children the two siblings were in a roll around kicking and screaming fight over the book.
Across the floor the two rolled, hair being pulled, elbows, legs, hands, knees crashing into each others. With a forceful yank, Roul came out on top getting to his feet for a moment with the book before Blanche lunged or his leg tripping him up as he tried to take a step. Falling to the floor with a loud thud, the time it took him to get over the shock was all that she needed to move across the floor get up and grab the book for herself. With it in her hand again she began to run. Roul of course, was older and always faster. He was after her and upon her in a few moments. Grabbing onto her shoulders he whirled her around, promptly grabbing onto the book. Stubborn as both of them were - the wonders of sharing the same genes - this promptly turned into a tugging match. Above the cauldron, where he had caught the girl the siblings began to pull back and forth.
Roul. Blanche. Roul. Blanche. Roul. Blanch.
The whole time unnoticed to either of them, the open wound of Roul's was slowly dripping his own blood into the cauldron, turning the formally pale potion into a deep dark black.
One drop. Two drop.
Three.
Four.
Five.
With a sudden tug, Roul over came his sister, tugging her closer to the cauldron, the bubbling black potion, just as the thing erupted, smoke - not steam - filled the room, cloaking them both, and the liquid exploded drenching the girl in hot goo, and before she could do anything about it, caught a mouthful as well.
It only seemed natural to Blanche to swallow what was in her mouth. On some level it was like she couldn't not do it.
When the smoke cleared, Roul was motionless on the floor, the so desired book hanging limply in his hand.
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» HOGWARTS REGENERATED CONFESSIONS
» Character Development
» RL Picture Show Extravaganza
» A Place to Put the Things
» Miscellaneous Poetry
» A poem ^^
» Fail Thread