Vic Mulciber (fromdefeat) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-02-01 21:49:00 |
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Vic knew her sister had entered the room before she made any sound to announce herself; it was always that way, Rose had a presence that was impossible to ignore. Vic stubbornly kept trying. “Has it gotten that bad,” her sister’s voice floated over, calm, clear. “You just got a promotion, do you really need to be filching mother’s silver?” From her place by the mantlepiece, Vic turned and glared at her sister, fingers falling away from the platinum picture frames. “If you want to take a jab at my shithole flat, just do it.” Rose gave an amused sigh, stepping further into the room. “Merlin Vict --” another glare, “Vic it was a joke.” The younger woman tossed her hair and turned away as if to make an exit from the room and the conversation. She’d done her duty, had spent two hours at another family dinner having anything she said dismissed with a patronizing laugh or a condescending note of encouragement. She didn’t need more of it. “Vic,” suddenly the tone wasn’t so nice, and Vic hated that she reacted to it as she always had, eyes immediately flying to her older sister’s. “We need to talk about mother’s...situation.” Vic scoffed. “And why’s that?” Rose arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Because it reflects on us too, Vic, and if mother is falling out of favour we need to help her regain her footing.” What, like Vic wasn’t already doing exactly that? She didn’t see Rose offering to help eliminate the Jones problem or look into that bloody wolf. Vic knew Rose was thinking of herself more than she was their family, no matter what she said. She didn’t doubt her sister’s allegiance to their mother, but after wasting away in Azkaban (as if Rose had ever done something so pedestrian as waste away) Rose’s loyalty to the cult lord seemed fiercer, sharper. Rose was so mercenary, unyielding and unapologetic. So like their mother. Vic supposed she wasn’t too far off the mark herself, but Rose had always known where the difference lay; Vic for all her ambitions cared too much about people. Rose had always seen through Vic’s motivations. “Like you’re not pleased,” Vic rolled her eyes and ignored the steady way her sister’s eyes followed the movement, always heavy, a crushing weight. “I know you rolled out of prison expecting to be given your ‘place’” and she used air quotes, “in the Inner Circle. You’re practically drooling.” Rose’s mouth tightened, the only sign that she did not appreciate Vic’s crassness or transparent attempts at irritating the shit out of her. “I sacrificed a lot for our Lord,” Rose corrected calmly, “like so many of our friends have. If I’m worthy I know it’ll be mine.” “So what? You spent the past decade in a jail. Sitting on your ass. Some of us were actually productive with our t— what?” Rose was laughing, an attractive chuckle that sent Vic’s blood pressure skyrocketing. “Do you think you’re in contention? Vic,” the eldest Mulciber sighed almost affectionately, tiredly, like Vic was the incorrigible little sister she’d been at 11. “You can’t be serious.” No, she wasn’t. There was literally nothing Vic wanted less than to stumble further into this mess. Recognition and the few dirty deeds, sure, but ultimate devotion? She looked at Rose and her mother, the Lestranges, and knew they’d take their hearts out of their chests if He wanted it. Vic had sneered once, rolled her eyes when she could hide it, but recent events had driven the seriousness of that kind of devotion home. This wasn’t much of a joke anymore and Vic wasn’t so confident she’d be able to walk the tightrope of her desires without giving what she thought she’d be able to get away with by checking off a few boxes. But Vic rose to bait like all middle siblings with a need to prove themselves did. “I am just as good as you,” she managed through gritted teeth. “I’ve had years to practice, years you spent in that hole. I’m invaluable,” she insisted and also knew this was very much not the case. So? It could be! Rose frowned. “You’re not, and if you keep up with that attitude you’re going to lose something more than your pride or the respect of your coworkers.” Vic’s mouth dropped open and her face burned scarlet. Was that a fucking reference to the Robards debacle? Rose seemed to recognize where Vic’s thoughts went as she exhaled in disbelief. “Oh for Merlin’s sake. That’s not —“ “Confringo!” It caught Rose by surprise, the spell hitting the eldest Mulciber directly in the chest and sending her into the opposite wall with a crack of broken plaster. Vic couldn’t believe her audacity, but there was a rising swell of triumph at beating her sister in just this one little thing. Ignoring the fact that her sister had every right to be surprised at being attacked in their mother’s sitting room shortly after a 5 course meal, when trying to talk to her sibling. Whatever. Rose, of course, recovered alarmingly fast. Hair dishevelled in a way Vic had rarely seen it, Rose merely tipped her head back and with a flick of her wrist the small table between them shot up and pinned Vic to the wall. “That was a mistake Victoria.” Vic sneered once she blinked the black spots from her vision and stubbornly ignored what had to be a cut on the back of her head. Painfully, she pried herself from the dent she’d made in the wall and angrily shoved the table away from her. “Oh but your centrepart isn’t so centre anymore,” Vic sang back and a burst of fire licked its way across the space between them, setting the winged back chair aflame as it reached for Rose. Rose dismissed it with a shield charm and stepped forward, her face for once betraying her annoyance. Mouth curled distastefully, the elder Mulciber levitated the shards of wood from the table and fired them at Vic. “You’re such a child.” Vic deflected most of them, but one lucky stake found itself lodged into her forearm. She gave a cry, half pained anguish, half fury and sent a whip, crackling with electricity Rose’s way. It caught Rose just at the collarbone, defying the anticipatory shield charm by just a hair, leaving a burn stretched across the delicate skin. Rose grimaced through the pain, huffing in displeasure. She blinked dispassionately at Vic’s struggle to get the wood out of her arm, and marched closer, hand extended. She looked bored if not a touch annoyed. Fuck her. Abandoning the stake, Vic suddenly launched herself at her sister, her weight throwing the older girl’s balance off and sending them both crashing to the ground, wands bouncing away on the polished wood flooring. “What are you—“ Vic punched her sister directly in the mouth, satisfaction lasting only as long as it took Rose to shove her knee up into Vic’s solar plexus and flip them over. Rose spat the blood from her mouth and slammed her sister’s head into the floor. Vic gasped, seeing stars, but the hit didn’t lessen her desperate attempt to grapple for higher ground, foot finding enough purchase to shove Rose off of her, enough for Vic to turn and slam her elbow into Rose’s back. Rose coughed, air forced out of her body, and lost her grip on the wood, head coming down hard against the floor. Vic lunged, planning to pin Rose to floor, her sister’s wand only a few feet away, when Rose turned. Vic screamed as Rose caught her forearm expertly and twisted, forcing the wound to widen and blood to spill down where her sister pulled at the stake until the wooden shard clattered to the ground. Rose flipped them easily, one arm a bar against Vic’s chest while the other hand, slick with blood kept her arm pinned to the ground. “This is what I’m talking about Victoria,” her sister shouted urgently, grip tightening on the wound as Vic struggled against her. Rose ignored Vic’s cries of pain. “This isn’t a bloody game anymore, this isn’t about getting Mummy’s attention, or playing for favourites. You act like this doesn’t have any real consequences. Smarten the fuck up.” Vic, breath heaving, eyes burning, stilled in shock at her sister’s tone. Rose stared determinedly back at her, a rage in her face that Vic couldn’t dismiss as self-serving. It looked a little like caring and that wasn’t something Vic, especially in present circumstances could parse through and shape into anything recognizable of their relationship since Azkaban. You can’t be serious, was what Vic heard in Rose’s laughing tones, a condescension and dismissal she did recognize. I’m just as good as you. Vic swallowed and shut out the sudden flare up of the long buried emotions of a desperate teenager hero worshiping her older sister. “Get off me,” she said shakily. “Get off me, get off me,” she snarled. Rose blinked, taken aback by the vehemence of her sister’s tone. It was carefully replaced with a blank mask as she did as requested, shifting her weight back and onto her knees. Breathing hard, Vic scrambled out from beneath her, curtain of hair hiding the expression on her face as she took deep, steadying breaths. Her arm throbbed, blood making her hand slippery where it pushed up from the floor. She stood. The room was a mess, dual imprints of bodies in the walls, plaster everywhere, chair smoking with burning embers. For all the noise they made, Vic wondered how their mother hadn’t come storming into the room, effectively ending a sibling spat grown out of control. Evelyn Mulciber was probably in the next room, enjoying a cuppa, satisfied her girls could sort out their problems like adults. Tough love. The thought made Vic’s fist clench From her position on the floor, Rose watched Vic warily, unapologetic, hand pressed gingerly to the burn that stretched across her collarbone. Her hair, somehow, was flawless. “Vic,” Rose started on a pleading sigh. “Don’t,” she cut in with a flash of barred teeth. With all the imperiousness she faked because she could never master the poise of her sister or mother, Vic stalked over to her wand and snatched it from the floor. It was bent. Of course it fucking was. “I’m not helping you clean this shit up.” And she was gone. |