Ash Sapworthy (sunshinespun) wrote in praesidio_rpg, @ 2018-06-10 17:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | apollo avery, perseus avery iii |
WHO: Perseus Avery and Apollo Avery
WHAT: Cousinly Care
WHEN: Satuday Evening / Early Sunday Morning, June 9/10
WHERE: Streets of London / Royal Palace
RATING: Mild / Low
STATUS: Completed in Docs
The night had not gone as planned, at all. Perhaps the current climate warranted a fair bit of caution but then, when had Apollo ever truly applied caution to his life? His ribs hurt, as did his cheek and lip. But he was rather proud of the fact that he had fended off a few blokes, even as a prince out of practice with dueling. The small gathering of old friends from Hogwarts had ventured to a pub for a few more drinks when the state of the kingdom came up. One thing lead to another and-- before he knew it he was being called out. Hiding behind the crown, using his power to avoid any real effort for the war and-- he hadn’t thought about the after when he drew his wand.
“Oh come on,” He groaned as he pulled the now limp wand from his jumper pocket. It had broken in the fight. His friends busy trying to keep the rest of the crowd from turning into a riot. Thank Salazar he’d remembered to bring his glasses. The charms had fended off the majority of patrons recognizing him and those that did were too busy hurling spells at him to care at that point. Drunken duel at a dive pub. He could check that off the list. With a wince he glanced toward his wrist at the snake band he wore without fail. The thought crossed his mind to portkey to Rin’s place and endure the lecture. But then, he would have other things to worry about.
“Please be awake.” He gritted as he pulled a folded sheet of paper from the back pocket of his jeans and muttered a few words to activate the charm. The paper folded in a hurry into the shape of a bird that perched itself atop Apollo’s finger. “Trip, if you’re awake. Do your favourite cousin a favour and come pick him up?”
Apollo sent the origami bird off aware it would find his cousin without fail. His words would appear upon the charmed parchment once Trip and only Trip touched the bird. A one off spell he had devised to reach his cousin in case of emergency. Though the late hour worried him Trip would already be asleep, he figured his eldest cousin was the least of all the evils he could invoke to return home outside the ever watchful eye of the media. Leaning against the cool stone of the nearby wall he hid himself from view, Apollo pulled the warding glasses from his face with a wince and slid against the wall until his rear hit the ground.
It was going to be a long night.
**
Trip wasn't sleeping. He should've been. He had an early morning meeting with his father and the King's war council. Though he'd finished going over the notes hours ago, his mind wouldn't settle enough for him to consider sleep. So he sat at his desk, a snifter of Scotch at hand, and tried to set some of his thoughts on paper. He kept losing track of his code key, and the runes on the page weren't making sense.
Swearing under his breath, he closed his personal journal and reset the wards on it. Trip stood and stretched and nearly jumped out of his skin when a paper bird hit him square in the chest. He quickly opened the paper and read the note. That time, his swear was louder, and he cast a tracking charm on the paper. It showed him where the charm on it had been set. Trip opened the wards on his room to include his cousins, then he disapperated.
Landing in a hidden spot a block away from where the note told him Apollo was, Trip looked around to be sure the way was clear. He was prepared for an ambush, though was glad when one didn't come. He spotted Apollo slumped against the wall and sighed. "I know our world is small," he said quietly as he squatted by his cousin, "and there isn't much we can do about anything, but letting them beat on you isn't going to fix anything." Trip gripped Apollo's arm. "On your feet, coz. We're walking till apperating won't make you vomit on my carpet."
*
The sound of footsteps had Apollo reaching inside his jacket pocket, his fingers pressed hard against a pouch full of marbles he hoped he really wouldn’t have to use. It had taken him a year to get the layering right so they didn’t explode in the bag but desperate times called for-- the sight of his cousin loosened his grip and pulled a sigh of exasperation from him. “Thank Salazar,” He muttered with a wince as a chuckled followed his words.
“Wise words from the future king,” Apollo teased with a tired grin. “I’ll be sure to have them set in marble.” With Trip’s help, he grimaced into rising to his feet. Truly, he’d had better moments and not even Quidditch hadn’t prepared him for the sharp reminder that taking a spell to the side was not in his best interest. Still, he grinned through the aching pain at his cousin. His cheek a dark purple and the corner of his mouth a dark red with dried blood.
“That only happened once,” He joked even as his face scrunched when he straightened to his full height. “And I was six.” Though he hated the idea of walking more than he had to, Trip was right as was the case most of their lives. Apollo was unsure if he could disapperate without being sick upon arrival and while he was keen to get home, the less people that knew about his loss of temper then better. With a slight pained expression, Apollo reached into his jacket pocket to pull out the warding glasses and offered them to his cousin with a frown.
“Here,” He sighed in resignation. “No sense in the world catching a glimpse of you if they’re stalking the shadows.”
**
Trip took the glasses his cousin offered him and clipped them over the collar of his shirt. He wasn't really worried about anyone recognizing him. If they did, and if they caused trouble, he could turn into a panther in under thirty seconds. He was also good at memory charms, but no one needed to know that more than they didn't need to know he could turn into a big cat. "If I see any camera flashes, I'll leak the photographs of me at the beach last summer. They'll be more interested in the pattern of my chest hair and my choice of trousers than of how well you bruise." He would leak those pictures anyway, just in case the press needed the distraction. He didn't have all of the details of what put Apollo in this state, but it was better to cover their arses before the air got to them.
He kept his arm around his cousin's shoulders as they walked, offering him support and keeping him upright when it seemed like he was going to fall. Once they reached the spot where Trip landed, he paused and made Apollo look at him. "How you doing? Do you think you can make it with side-along?"
*
At the thought of his cousin’s taste in swimwear on the front page of several magazines, Apollo couldn’t help but give a snort of amusement that turned into a wince afterward. So, bruised ribs weren’t fun. He could check that off his list of things to experience as well. He felt a sudden memory press against his thoughts, of Trip coming to collect Apollo after a fall from his broom. He’d been too confident then but the feeling was the same. And part of him felt guilty that he still needed his cousin to rescue him even as a grown wizard. “To be fair, it is a funny pattern.”
As they walked, Apollo found a stride that didn’t want to make him hit the bottle of firewhiskey he had been saving for a special occasion back in his room. Small blessings, he was sure and after a moment of rigid glances to see if any cameras were indeed going off, gave up at the soreness that warned him against too many sudden movements. “I’m a bloody prince,” He started with an airy grin. “I’m not going to throw up, if that’s what you’re asking.”
*
Trip didn't argue, and he didn't give Apollo a chance to think about what was coming next. Dropping his arm to his cousin's waist, he tightened his grip and apparated them home. When he felt the soft carpet beneath his shoes, he quickly stepped behind Apollo. His grip on his cousin remained firm, but he didn't want to be in the splash zone in case the night caught up to him.
*
A quip ready on the tip of his tongue, Apollo’s breath caught as he was pulled along with his cousin and felt the bile raise in his throat. He lurched forward, a hand over his mouth and a deep grimace but stilled after a moment. A soft groan sounded as he attempted to right himself, the taste of his almost accident clear as he turned the hand that had covered his mouth to wipe at it absently, a wince as it brushed across the edge of his cut. And with a stubborn will, he turned to glance at Trip then, a defiant look of, “I told you so”.
“You’re an ass for doing that without warning, you know.” He muttered more to himself than to his cousin. The familiar sense of home rushed him at once as he glanced about the room. It had been quite some time since he had last seen it but the room was definitely Trip’s. Now in the safety of the palace, the tension that had wracked Apollo’s frame began to ease as he slumped in the slightest.
“It was a bar fight,” He murmured. “Someone saw through my glasses. Started talking a load of shite and--” The shrug that followed was met with a wince. “It was supposed to be a fun night out with the boys. Maybe get a few of them into convincing their parents to make more donations toward the services. I didn’t mean for it to-- well, you know.”
**
"Didn't want to give you a chance to think about it," he replied before pointing at the chair closest to Apollo. "Sit." With a flick of his wrist, his wand dropped from the holster on his arm, and he summoned his first-aid kit. He learned early on that it was better to learn how to tend to these things on his own than have one of the staff get news of injuries back to his mother. Apollo's parents would be less forgiving than the queen, and she was not one to trifle with by any means.
He listened to his cousin's explanation as he handed off a pain potion with a command to drink it all, a salve with essence of dittany for his side and lip, and, "Witchhazel for your cheek. Don't get it in your eye. It'll burn like a bitch." With everything handed off, Trip moved behind his desk and took the glasses from the front of his shirt and setting them on top of his journal. "Time to update your disillusionment charms," he muttered as he took out a piece of parchment and sent a note to his valet to spread the story of seeing the princes slipping out of the billiards room a little more sloshed than normal and to knock over one of the suits of armor between there and his suites.
"You ran into a suit of armor," he informed his cousin as he charmed the paper into the shape of a broom--better for slipping under doors--and locking it to only open for his friend and valet's touch. "It landed on you enough to cause the sore ribs, and you hit your face on the floor when you went down." He leveled his cousin with a look he'd gotten from his father, but with less ice. "You gotta learn to control that temper, mate."
*
Apollo followed his cousin’s directions, wincing at both the taste and action of taking the potion. The aid and story made him snort in amusement and only at the look he had seen so sparingly did he sober. Gaze to the ground, he held it there in silence as he let the night and Trip’s words sink in. He sighed as his eyes lifted to the glasses on the desk and glanced toward his cousin.
“You’ve a point,” He moved to shrug but paused as he thought better against it. “I can’t just do nothing though. And if I can’t fight I might as well use some old friends to garner support for the servicemen.” The tingle of the pain potion earned a small hum of relief as he leaned forward with less of a wince an moved a hand over the side of his face.
“Charms aside,” Apollo began. “How do I do better, Trip? Because I just keep getting angrier thinking about all the things I can’t do and--” He looked away with a long sigh. “It's hard to be sidelined.”
**
Apollo looking at the floor told Trip that he had, in fact, mastered his father's look. That was good and a little terrifying, and he felt bad for using it on his cousin who likely saw worse looks from his own parents. He understood Apollo's words and need to do something, to be productive and make things right since they couldn't actually go out and help. "I know, and I don't know. It's more of a mess than I think we realise, and I'm working on a way to figure out exactly what I don't know."
That answer was vague and unhelpful, but his thoughts were half-formed and as unhelpful. "You find something you can do. You keep yourself busy. You subvert the rules quietly and subtly. You need someone you can trust, whether explicitly, implicitly, through an unbreakable vow, or all of the above. You get them on your side, and they are your cover and excuse for getting out and doing something."
*
He found the corner of Trip’s shelf rather interesting as the older wizard spoke. His answer only drew Apollo’s brew further into a frustrated concentration and as he finished the younger of the two shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It wasn’t quite like being lectured by his parents, Trip had always been a protective older brother figure but-- well, Apollo wasn’t a child anymore. Even if he did still look up to his cousin he had accepted a long time ago he would never master the life they lead like Trip had. And the war only made it even more clear. Regardless of his own lessons and training, he still needed his cousin to come to the rescue, further highlighting his own need for improvement.
“Its worse? Even more reason to actually be out there doing something. Trip we-- ugh, there are servicemen younger then me out there with half the ariel experience and no where near the skill with a wand-- I could,” His Mother’s words rang out then. A damning voice that cut his words and kindled his frustration. And Apollo fell once again into a annoyed silence a long while as Trip spoke again.
“That,” He turned his attention toward Trip and from his thoughts, his expression softening into a mixture of curiosity and tired. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Apollo thought of the friends he had, the few he thought he could actually trust were fewer than the fingers of one hand but-- there were three that came to mind. “Thank you,” He muttered quietly gaze still locked with his cousin’s.
**
"There are whispers." Trip stood and moved to the bookcase to the left of his desk. Pressing on the corner of a group of alchemy books, he revealed the bar hidden there. He didn't have a reason to hide his personal alcohol except that doing so amused him. He poured two healthy measures of Scotch and handed one glass to Apollo before continuing. "There're grumblings of discontent among the merchants, the people who enlisted because they didn't have a chance to go into the careers they actually wanted." They were the whispers that Gwendolyn Ollivander had mentioned to him; ones that Tobias had confirmed.
"Don't spread that around. I don't know the extent of how much we and our way of life is hated. I'm looking into it." Trip leaned against the edge of his desk and stared into his drink. "So it's not just the war and our seeming uninvolvement. It's everything we stand for." He finished his drink in a single gulp. "I know it's hard feeling like your hands are tied when you know you should be able to do much more."
He nodded and shrugged. "Yeah. We all need an outlet that doesn't involve getting beat on." He sighed and plopped down in the chair next to his cousin. "I don't want to sound too much like our parents," he said, sounding tired. "So I'll just ask you to find me when you feel like you're going to explode from the need to do something and you're feeling reckless."
*
Apollo took the glass without hesitation and sipped at it, the sting against his mouth a fresh reminder of the night’s events. It was a shame really, he was becoming quite accustomed to pain. He listened as Trip spoke, his brow narrowing further and further until his cousin was sat next to him looking just as tired as Apollo thought he should have when he had arrived to collect him from his night out. With a slight smile, he chuckled at the sight of it and shook his head slowly.
“You look like Uncle, tired and in dire need of a drink.” His words were quiet and teasing though appreciation shown through his words and Apollo downed the rest of his drink in a single go as Trip had previously. The information, the whispers and growing hatred, it all needed to sink in and worry blossomed in his heart at the thought of something like what happened at the pub, happening to his sister. Her and that barmai--Fiona, would be a great target and the thought soured his expression for a long moment. He was going to rather busy. Well, once his wand was repaired.
Apollo leaned back in his chair and turned his attention back toward Trip. The sour look gone in place of a small smile and clear amusement. “Of course, dear cousin. I kept my first promise didn’t I? To send for you if I were ever in trouble? Oh,” He paused as his smile grew a little wider. “Sorry if my charm caught you off guard. I figured it was the only thing capable of slipping past your wards without much trouble.”
*
Trip made a face at his cousin. "Just what I need. They say we all become our parents eventually. I didn't expect it to happen so soon." He waved his wand and the bottle of Scotch came and re-filled their glasses. He drank this one more slowly. "Don't worry about it, coz. I was awake still, and it was the best way to get through the wards." He laughed, pushing his hand through his curls. "Makes me think, though, about what else can slip through them. This paranoia and need to have secrets is ridiculous, but that's our world, and we have to live in it the best we can."
He clapped his cousin on his shoulder. "Let's see to those wounds, Pol. Make sure your mum doesn't catch wind of any of this."