dedgulung "vexed italicizing trouble magnet" black (regulus) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-02-21 20:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1979-02] february, evan rosier, regulus black |
RP Log: Regulus & Evan
who → Regulus Black & Evan Rosier.
what → In response to David Nettles’s refusal at the Diagon Post, Regulus and Evan take justice (or revenge, rather) into their own hands.
when → 21 February 1979; middle of the night. (re-posted -- no, you are not crazy ♥)
where → Evan’s Flat --> David Nettles’s home in Topsham, Devon --> Evan’s Flat.
warnings → A house is burned down, but other than that, no language or explicit violence.
status → Completed log.
The anticipation had been brewing inside of Regulus ever since Evan suggested they follow through with the desire for revenge; Rookwood’s response that they oughtn’t was quite forgotten, brushed aside in favour of youthful ventures. The anger was slowly replaced by the satisfying realisation that David Nettles was going to pay for denying Regulus’s polite and reasonable suggestion. Perhaps Regulus was not the only Death Eater who had failed, but he took failure quite to heart. He did not take denial, failure, and perceived insult sitting down. Although Rookwood had told him it was best to keep his head low and wait patiently, the older man had at least been useful in garnering information on their target. Having an ‘in’ at the Ministry seemed to be useful on a personal level, in this case, and with David Nettles’s address grip securely in his hand, Regulus Apparated straight to Evan’s flat – just as they had planned. “Ready?” he asked when he caught sight of his cousin. His eyebrows were casually raised, as if they were leaving to enjoy a spot of tea. "Ready," Evan replied, buttoning the heavy wool peacoat and tying a scarf around his neck. He was glad that Regulus chose to exact revenge from this Nettles fellow. It'd be better for him in the long run, expelling that negative energy. Besides the fact that Lord Voldemort could reward them (he wouldn't think about the other things he could do) for their trouble, it'd be very fun. “Brilliant.” Regulus held the paper up to read over it once again, though he had done so enough that it was hardly necessary. Nettles lived in Topsham, Devon, and it wouldn’t be too challenging to attack the home undetected. Clothed by the night, it might almost be too easy. “Do you know where we are going, or shall we side-along?” "Let me see the paper -- " he plucked it neatly out of Regulus's hand, reading the address and visualizing the street. He knew where it was; one of those garish development communities with the fake clapboards and the rules against letting your dog piss on the sidewalk. He nodded, offering the paper back to Regulus on the palm of his hand. "We'll start at opposite sides of the street, hmm?" Nodding, Regulus folded the slip of paper neatly and slid it into his pocket. “That sounds like the best plan of action. I suppose I shall see you there, then?” "Yes." Since this was Regulus's personal vendetta, he bowed his head and waited for the other man to Disapparate first. Closing his eyes and picturing the neighborhood in his mind – he had been unable to resist visiting it earlier in the day, and it was quite vivid in his mind – Regulus Disapparated. When he opened his eyes again, no longer was it Evan’s neat and tidy flat that surrounded him. He could see David Nettles house just down the street, and he calmed the rush of anticipation. He supposed he could have gone after Nettles’s Mudblood mother, according to Rookwood, but this seemed more appealing to the part of him that wanted to make a show of his revenge. Casually walked down the dimly lit street, Regulus kept his eyes and ears open for the sight and sound of his cousin’s own arrival. A crack! in the distance heralded Evan's arrival on the scene and he stalked down the street, stopping before Nettles's disgustingly urbane house with his heel in the pavement. "How do you want to do this?" Lips pursing gently, Regulus trained his eyes on the house; not a light was on – fitting for the middle of the night – and he supposed that made it all the easier. Perhaps there was a part of him that wished for a bit more of a challenge, but he was not going to turn away a perfect opportunity. Easy shots were not to be snubbed, and he could imagine that he would feel the same amount of satisfaction either way. “Nettles appears to be either asleep or out of the house, considering the darkness; we can either take the chance of sneaking in, or we can make things more simple and set it ablaze from out here where we are less likely to encounter wards and protective curses. While I do not know if a postal man would think of such things, we do want to avoid looking foolish.” " ... and if you're lucky, he's got a sick granny or an old golden retriever locked up in that house. So," and he smiled, gesturing toward the house rather grandly. "Gentlemen first." “Sweet revenge, hmm?” Regulus replied, the corner of his mouth pulling up into an almost smirk as he lifted his wand. He hadn’t any idea who or what was inside, but it really didn’t matter; he wasn’t going to be ignored and snubbed, especially not by some lowly postal worker. The time had come. After murmuring a soft Incendio, he watched as the flames caught the corner of the house and began to spread quite quickly along the wood. The darkness that had previously shrouded the house and neighborhood was gaining an eerie orange glow, and after taking a step back, he took a moment to admire it. He had not had much experience with fire, and he did not know how long it would take, but he supposed this was as good a way as any to be educated. Evan followed Regulus's spell with a volley of his own to spread across the front porch and lick at the bay windows. He smiled when the flame climbed up a trellis like some kind of exotic vine. "Shall we cast Morsmordre?" he asked softly. “I think it would be a lovely touch,” Regulus replied, his voice just as soft as he admired their handiwork. Already he could see the fire creeping inside, flaring up as it encountered wooden coffee tables and what looked like worn leather chairs. Stepping back another few feet, he lifted his wand again and cast a quiet Morsmordre, watching as the green glowing skull formed in the sky; just moments later, the image of a snake curled out from the skull’s mouth, completing the Dark Mark’s brand in the sky. He stretched out the fingers of his left hand, particularly aware of the brand on his own skin as he stared quite fixated at the sky. Nearly a minute had passed before he shook himself out of it and stepped back from the growing heat. Already the fire had grown significantly -- he supposed they could not stay much longer if they wished to avoid being caught at the scene of the crime. “I suppose this is our cue to leave?” He kissed his cousin on the cheek. "It's lovely wreaking havoc with you, Regulus," was said in a rather amused tone as he stepped back and admired the way that the lurid green pall cast such a sickly shade over the parts of the house not yet ablaze. But he nodded swiftly, even as he heard doors and windows opening with loud exclamations. Wasting no further time, he assumed that Regulus would follow should he wish it (or return to his own home) and so Disapparated before he could be accosted or questioned. Delaying only a moment longer, he stared into the house, wondering if anyone was in fact inside; the ponderings were caught short, however, as he could not stick around to see if anyone would escape the rapidly decaying house. Without lingering another moment, Regulus Apparated back to Evan’s flat to see the other boy was – of course – already there waiting. “I would say that went quite well,” he commented with an air of satisfaction as he stuck his wand back in his pocket. He supposed they could have toyed with the event a bit more, but the goal had been reached. David Nettles had paid for his crime, and Regulus no longer felt the need to spend as much time actively annoyed about the way the post office event had played out. He had fallen upon the sofa, all arms and gangly legs as Regulus appeared in his flat. Breathing a sigh of relief (he had, in fact, made it), he nodded solemnly. "Bellatrix will be sore that you didn't torture him, probably. But I think that we made swift, sure work of it." “Well, if he was in there…then technically, burning alive most likely counts. Assuming that sort of thing would wake a person up,” Regulus responded, somewhat surprised at the nonchalance in his own voice. The idea of torture was not so much what Regulus looked forward to most in his ‘career’ as a Death Eater, but this – this was a strange mix of intimacy and detachment from the situation, in his mind. It was quite personal in its motive, but everything about the act itself was kept at a safe distance: compartmentalized and trivialized. It was safe, and Evan’s encouragement only served to strengthen the feeling of accomplishment. A nod. "Of course." He himself would have perfected an entrail-expelling curse and made short work of it all before burning the house down. But he appreciated Regulus's style, spartan and economic as it was. Despite the hour, Regulus did not feel the siren tug of sleep – on the contrary, their antics had done a wondrous job of banishing all hints of exhaustion that might have lingered within him. This alertness was brushed aside, however, as he once again began to speak. “It is rather late. I suppose we shall call it a night?” "If you'd like," he said faintly, feeling quite the opposite of Regulus. The warm, asphyxiative qualities of the fire had settled deep in his belly and made iron curtains of his eyes. "You can stay here. There's an extra bedroom. And the sofa pulls out." Though it would not be a nuisance to Apparate back to his own home, the decision to stay was not a difficult one: returning home late ran the risk of unnecessarily waking others in the house, and when an alternative was presented, there was little need to do so. “Thank you for the offer. I will stay if it is no inconvenience to you.” "Family - " he briefly intoned, standing and placing his hands on his hips. "You know where everything is so, of course, I expect you to make yourself at home." “Family,” Regulus echoed with a small smile. The one safety net he felt he could always depend on…so long as he continued to do as he was supposed to do, but Regulus Black was not a failure; the qualifier of his perfect son existence was hardly a crisis. “I shall do just that,” he continued. “Goodnight to you, then, and I must say we had a suitably productive night.” "Good night," he said, watching Regulus as he spoke. Wondering over what his cousin was thinking, he walked backward a few steps before turning toward his bedroom. His parrot chattered from the corner, and he nodded as it ruffled its plumage and tucked its head beneath its wing. "Yes. A good night, indeed." Lingering only a moment longer to observe the exchange, he noticed Evan’s parrot for the first time since he had arrived – the bird he had apparently bought whilst convincing the Magical Menagerie that Mudblood filth oughtn’t be accepted in Diagon Alley. It was a lovely parrot, really. Without another word, Regulus turned and disappeared into the spare bedroom to settle in for the night. Quite easily he found night clothes to change into (they had been left inside a drawer), and in only a few short minutes, he was crawling under the covers to wind down his mind. Thoughts continued to plague him until fatigue secured its inevitable grip, tugging him gently to sleep. |