Post by Broderick Caitiffan on Jul 4, 2009 16:37:11 GMT -5
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BRODERICKARCHIBALDCAITIFFAN
[/color]BRODERICKARCHIBALDCAITIFFAN
ALL THAT ICING AND ALL THAT CAKE
I CAN'T MAKE IT TO YOUR WEDDING,
BUT I'M SURE I'LL BE THERE AT YOUR WAKE.
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OKAY, SO GIVE US THE BASICS !
SORRY, NOT QUITE. SO WHAT ARE AND AREN'T YOU INTO ?
HOW ER... INTERESTING. EVER LOOKED INTO THE MIRROR OF ERISED ?
WHAT MAKES YOU SHAKE IN YOUR BOOTS ?
EVEN YOU HAVE TO HAVE SOME GOOD QUALITIES, RIGHT ?
AND IT'S QUITE OBVIOUS YOU HAVE YOUR BAD, HUH?
LET'S GET DIRTY. WHAT TURNS YOU ON ?
DO YOU LOVE YOUR FAMILY ?
WHERE YA FROM, BY THE WAY ?
THE DEMENTORS ARE HERE. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ?
BETTER GET UP A PATRONUS. WHAT ARE YOU REMEMBERING ?
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HI, I AM SEVAPHINA AND I AM 26 YEARS OLD.
I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS SHIT FOR YEARS AND I AIN'T
QUITTING ANYTIME SOON. WELL, I GUESS I NEED TO SHOW YOU I'M THE SHIT,
SO HERE IT GOES.
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HI, I AM SEVAPHINA AND I AM 26 YEARS OLD.
I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS SHIT FOR YEARS AND I AIN'T
QUITTING ANYTIME SOON. WELL, I GUESS I NEED TO SHOW YOU I'M THE SHIT,
SO HERE IT GOES.
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The door to his office slammed so hard that he had to lunge forward in time to catch the lamp from toppling off his desk. Normally, such a display from Jareth would have made Brody's temper flare to the nth degree, but at the moment his head was too swarmed with questions to care.
He didn't approve of Jareth's kink, never had, but Jareth was his brother, so the two usually went with the unspoken "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" approach. It worked, for the most part, allowing sanity its place in the household. But Jareth had broken that unspoken rule by apparating right into his office, nearly scaring the piss out of Brody. Dripping water and mud on his area rug, with bits of grass and dirt clinging to his clothes and skin, Jareth had paced like a mad man, describing an encounter with some unknown woman that had ended up with Jareth being flung twenty feet away from her like a flea from a spinning top.
Once Brody had pushed a strong cup of tea into his brother's hand, equipped with a cup of his own, he was able to ask some questions about the incident, but every answer Jareth gave only opened up new questions. Somehow this girl, this unknown entity, had performed wandless magic. If Jareth was being truthful about the effects of the spell, which Brody believed was the case, then it was too strong to be the common defensive magic that every witch and wizard had. Wands channeled a wizard's powers, made it stronger, more precise. Wandless magic was usually vague, capable of achieving its desired end but not spectacular by any means.
Whatever this girl had done, she'd done it without her wand in her hand and in the throes of a blind panic. It should have been nothing, just a little defensive charge, not a "fecking thunderclap," as Jareth kept saying. The only thing that Brody could think of as an explanation had made him go all cold and clammy inside. If this was old magic... well, it was impossible, no one really studied the old ways anymore. Even Brody wasn't sure exactly how old magic worked, or if it was all just myths cooked up by bored housewitches to scare children into obedience.
But if it was... the Dark Lord would want to know about it, but Brody couldn't see a way of informing the Dark Lord without incriminating his brother. The girl had done nothing wrong, and she was a witch, for Merlin's sake. If Brody only knew who she was, he could investigate her lineage, and hope like hell she was just a half-blood or muggle born. But he didn't know who she was, only that she was young, blonde, blue eyed and timid. He might as well have described 25% of the witches in London.
Frustrated, he sent Jareth off to give himself time to think. After rescuing his lamp, he leaned back in his chair, rubik's cube forgotten on his desk. He would have to do some investigating. Find out who the girl was, who her great-great-great-great-great fecking grandparents were on both sides, where her loyalties lay, and most importantly, he'd have to bury himself in books to make sure that what Jareth had described was old magic in the first place.
Sighing, he massaged his temples, breathing in the fragrant steam that rose in coils from his cup. After he had learned everything he could about the girl and the magic she used, he would spend his energy on finding a way to bring it up to the Dark Lord without getting his brother into deep, deep, DEEP shit.
He didn't approve of Jareth's kink, never had, but Jareth was his brother, so the two usually went with the unspoken "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" approach. It worked, for the most part, allowing sanity its place in the household. But Jareth had broken that unspoken rule by apparating right into his office, nearly scaring the piss out of Brody. Dripping water and mud on his area rug, with bits of grass and dirt clinging to his clothes and skin, Jareth had paced like a mad man, describing an encounter with some unknown woman that had ended up with Jareth being flung twenty feet away from her like a flea from a spinning top.
Once Brody had pushed a strong cup of tea into his brother's hand, equipped with a cup of his own, he was able to ask some questions about the incident, but every answer Jareth gave only opened up new questions. Somehow this girl, this unknown entity, had performed wandless magic. If Jareth was being truthful about the effects of the spell, which Brody believed was the case, then it was too strong to be the common defensive magic that every witch and wizard had. Wands channeled a wizard's powers, made it stronger, more precise. Wandless magic was usually vague, capable of achieving its desired end but not spectacular by any means.
Whatever this girl had done, she'd done it without her wand in her hand and in the throes of a blind panic. It should have been nothing, just a little defensive charge, not a "fecking thunderclap," as Jareth kept saying. The only thing that Brody could think of as an explanation had made him go all cold and clammy inside. If this was old magic... well, it was impossible, no one really studied the old ways anymore. Even Brody wasn't sure exactly how old magic worked, or if it was all just myths cooked up by bored housewitches to scare children into obedience.
But if it was... the Dark Lord would want to know about it, but Brody couldn't see a way of informing the Dark Lord without incriminating his brother. The girl had done nothing wrong, and she was a witch, for Merlin's sake. If Brody only knew who she was, he could investigate her lineage, and hope like hell she was just a half-blood or muggle born. But he didn't know who she was, only that she was young, blonde, blue eyed and timid. He might as well have described 25% of the witches in London.
Frustrated, he sent Jareth off to give himself time to think. After rescuing his lamp, he leaned back in his chair, rubik's cube forgotten on his desk. He would have to do some investigating. Find out who the girl was, who her great-great-great-great-great fecking grandparents were on both sides, where her loyalties lay, and most importantly, he'd have to bury himself in books to make sure that what Jareth had described was old magic in the first place.
Sighing, he massaged his temples, breathing in the fragrant steam that rose in coils from his cup. After he had learned everything he could about the girl and the magic she used, he would spend his energy on finding a way to bring it up to the Dark Lord without getting his brother into deep, deep, DEEP shit.
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