Tilly Armstrong used to be a fox (moonshone) wrote in reduxpitch, @ 2016-08-07 14:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | !game plot, !thread, character: galinda blishwick, character: osgar blishwick |
WHO: Osgar and Galinda Blishwich
WHEN: Tuesday evening, 2 August 2002
WHERE: Blishwick family estate
WHAT: Mourning Together
RATING: Low/Safe for Work, but Sad.
STATUS: Completed in Docs
Life had a way of kicking you when you were down. Or at least pulling the rug out from under you. She had been in the middle of job hunting, with a few promising interviews scheduled and then there were the dreams. Dreams that had felt so real and true that when she woke up in the morning she had to stop and think about where and when she was. Married, with one young child and pregnant with a second, free of lycanthropy. Happy. Stable. It sounded like a life she could only have in a dream.
It had been hard to work up the enthusiasm to get up and go to those job interviews. Those who interviewed her could probably tell, which is why she probably didn’t have any offers after said interviews, but honestly, Galinda could not bring herself to care as she mourned… what could have been? What never was?
She spent a lot of time out in the gardens with her watercolors, unable to express to the elves or her mother what had caused her almost abrupt change in mood. Perhaps this was the one time Galinda did not mind using her mental illness as an excuse to not answer too many questions. Galinda was not so in a fog that she could not help but notice that she was not the only one suddenly affected by… something. Her brother was withdrawn, perhaps more so than usual.
She let him wallow for a few days, knowing what it felt like to want to be left alone, but beyond that… he had gone to her once before to see how she was doing. It was only fair that she do the same. Knocking quietly on his suite’s door, Galinda waited. “Osgar? May I come in?”
Osgar heard the sounds - annoyingly, harshly human - and felt his vulpine ears twitch, an inadvertent reaction to being disturbed. The fox form he currently inhabited was a way he hid from the world, had an excuse to bury himself deep in another existence and away from the pain he felt, whatever that may be. And given that he currently was trying to deeply ignore the result of a poor decision to be dragged out to his late wife’s cousin’s pub, his animagus form was just the solace he needed.
However, his sister didn’t KNOW that he was an animagus. Only their parents and his boss had that information, and he was not ready to reveal it quite yet. Thus, the russet coloured fox stood up carefully, stretched his back by pushing back on his front legs, and took a leap from the bed, landing on all four paws before padding behind the couch.
Galinda was about to turn away, leave and forget that she had ever tried to comfort her brother. She could understand not wanting company and would rather not admit that she attempted and was rebuffed. She was about to and then she heard a thump come from inside the rooms. It was too soft to come from a man of Osgar’s size, but she didn’t think it was Gawain either.
“Osgar?” she called again, this time trying the doorknob. Galinda was surprised when it turned in her hand. If it were her she would have locked it to keep everyone out. Taking this as a sign that she could proceed further, she cracked the door open and peeked in.
The room appeared empty, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be elsewhere. The bathroom or the dressing room for example. “Osgar, I’m just checking to see if you’re okay. If you don’t want me here, just give a shout, but please don’t ignore me.”
There was no way Osgar was going to change back, not with his sister present. That would have been beyond awkward, and he wasn’t quite ready yet to face her anyway. Any sign of family at all was too much for him in his current state, and in an attempt to sneak away further, he padded further along behind the couch, making a leap across the gap between it and the wing-backed armchair. Unfortunately for him, a flash of fluffy white tail was visible as he made his disappearance.
When she received no verbal response Galinda was ready to admit defeat and go. However, just as she was getting ready to withdraw and never mention this moment again something out of the corner of her eye gave her pause.
“Osgar?” Galinda stepped back into the room. “Look, if you don't want me here I'll go, but giving me the silent treatment is just rude and childish.”
Unexpectedly, a snarl escaped his tensed jaws. How dare she? How DARE she? This was his place, his territory, and she had invaded it and called him rude?
The unmistakably blue eyed fox, quivering down to the root of every strand of fur, poked his head around the chair and continued to growl.
At first Galinda didn't know what to think when she saw a furry head stick out from behind a chair. Then instinct took over and she growled back. It was only after a moment or two, where she even realized she was growling, to recognize the blue eyes and vulpine form. “So you are real and just not a figment of my wolfsbane addled mind,” she murmured, staying by the door rather than invade more of his territory.
Staring him down for a moment, Galinda shrugged. “Well then.”
Well. The cat - or should one say, the fox - was now well and truly out of the bag. Haughtily, the fox turned sharply on its heels and trotted back towards the bed where it had been lying, hopping onto the side table to get leverage up onto the blue velvet covers. The Blishwicks, apparently, let a mostly Ravenclaw heritage affect their taste in interior design.
The fox briefly turned its back on Galinda as it turned round, curling its body into a cosy circle. It eyed Galinda huffily, flicking its tail as its beady eyes watched her every move.
The fox hadn't growled at her again nor barked (could vulpines bark, that was something to look up), so Galinda took that as a sign to not immediately leave and forget this ever happened. “I'm not going to come in further until you invite me in,” she told the animal matter of factly. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
She paused, unsure if she should confront him further, realizing that in this form her brother couldn't shout at her. The worst he could do was bite and Galinda estimated that she would be able to get out of the room and put a door between them before he leapt off the bed. “I've been having dreams as well.”
As if I could invite you in in this state the fox thought, giving Galinda a look that was so withering, so unmistakeably *him* that there could be no mistaking now as to his identity. He remained still, though. As his sister spoke, the fox froze, looking down at the slightly pilled patterns on the covers. Then, he whined, covering his eyes with an outstretched front paw.
Galinda rolled her eyes at the dark look the fox sent her way. Yes, Osgar couldn't speak in that current form, but he made himself perfectly understandable. Galinda was about to tell him as much when she just about hear the most heartbreaking sound, giving her pause.
She stepped forward into the room, closing the door softly behind her. If at all possible she did not want either her parents or Gawain to overhear them. “I thought I hurt, tasting something I never could have, but if I'm correct, you experienced what very well could have been if fate wasn't such a bitch.”
The fox pushed its head further into the covers, as if hiding from the pain of the memory. The dream, where his wife and son were alive - sons, given how far on his life had moved - had torn him apart as if a hand had literally pushed itself down his oesophagus and pulled his heart out through his throat. Peering up at Galinda with barely a move of his head, he let out a sad little whine, confirming what she said.
Galinda’s heart broke as she slowly inched forward to take a seat on the couch, closest to the bed. “Where did it all go wrong?” she wondered. “What did we do to not get our happy endings?” To her ears that sounded like a bit of a pity party and maybe it was , but life had a way of battering the Blishwick family.
“I’m sorry, Osgar,” Galinda said gently. Her voice was soft, even in the quiet room, but she was sure that the vulpine ears would be able to pick up her words. “I wish I could do something, say something more, but I can’t.” She gave a small, tight smile. “So I guess the only thing I can do now is to offer you the same comfort you’ve given me so many times. Quiet companionship.”
Later, when she was alone and more involved in her thoughts Galinda would wonder why her brother had never told her about his animagus abilities. Surely they were something to brag about or at least be worthy of mentioning since it was an extraordinarily difficult bit of magic to achieve.
The fox raised his paw to the top of his face, sliding it down his snout and repeating the movement. It was an awkward gesture, reminiscent of a human fiddling with hair or rubbing their face, hiding from the question. He didn’t know why their family had such an unfair share of life’s bad luck, but they did. He married young, but lost his even younger wife - and their son. He’d never been able to cope with that trauma for fear of it happening again. His sister had her own dramas in life, and the two of them had both been forced to live through knowing what could have - should have - been, if this alternate universe had been allowed to happen. It just wasn’t fair.
He was really rather expressive as a fox, Galinda marveled as she watched her brother. Her fingers itched to capture the swipe of a paw, the flick of the tail, the twitch of the ears. No doubt if she was given a chance to stare into his eyes she would be able to read them as clearly as any human, but maybe today and right now that was asking for too much. Their troubles hung over them like clouds threatening to storm. One more variable and a deluge would pour.
“Would you mind,” Galinda paused and thought about what she was about to ask, “would you mind if I got my sketchbook? One thump for yes. Two thumps for no.” She demonstrated by knocking on the couch’s arm, just in case he didn’t quite understand her meaning.
The fox growled instinctively. This shape, this form, was one of his only true ways of maintaining privacy and an escape from the world. He'd already allowed far much more than he ordinarily would by allowing his sister, someone who had never known about this ability, to see him for this long and in such a vulnerable state. To be captured in any form of permanence would be crossing a boundary. He wasn't sure exactly what that boundary was yet, nor what it meant - just that it was too much for him to be comfortable.
Swiping his tail viciously back and forth, he arched his back, watching Galinda carefully.
Galinda stiffened, unsure of how to react. She could understand not wanting to be sketched at the moment, many people did not want to be observed and catalogued for that long. She had offered him a way to say no, with no hard feelings. Instead he had growled at her, making her feel intrusive and unwanted. That wasn't her intention in the slightest. “Alright,” she said slowly, “perhaps another time. Would you like me to stay? Yes or no, same system.”
When one spent time as a fox, one began to act like a fox. The part of Osgar that was still there noticed her reaction and sighed inwardly, regretting letting her see him like this in the first place. It was not an easy part of him to share.
If he had been human, it would have been easier to express his thoughts in a way that was possible to communicate easily. However, flicking one’s tail or tapping the furniture (which made him feel like a performing circus animal, frankly, but Galinda wasn't to know that) was insufficient to state that he was happy for her to stay, but his inherent sadness meant he wasn't going to be much use as far as company went.
He sufficed by hopping down from the bed, closer to his sister, but curling up with his nose tucked under his tail.
She watched as the fox, it was easier to think of him like that rather than her brother, jumped off the bed and came closer. Not close enough to touch, but obviously closer. “Alright,” she said again as she tucked her legs under her and made herself more comfortable, “I'm not exactly a mind reader, but I think I understand enough.”
Galinda patted the seat next to her in case he wanted to make himself more comfortable, but didn't expect him to take advantage. “We can just sit awhile.”
If the fox had known Galinda’s thoughts, he would have explained that that was sort of the point. To not be human for a while - to just have his own brain in another creature’s head - it was enough to dull the pain and distraction he felt when he was fully himself. There were times when he shut himself in his office to transform, purely so that he could narrow his focus and fully concentrate. Almost the opposite to this situation, really.
Settled on the couch with its chin on top of the tip of its tail, the fox looked up at her, quizzically. What did she want to talk about?
Unable to hide her surprise when the fox settled upon the couch, Galinda smiled at it’s expectant look. “If I’m going to be the only one talking this is going to remind me far too much of a therapy session.” She paused. “So instead, let's just sit here like two people who haven’t seen their dreams dashed as soon as the sun rises.”
Galinda hunkered down, leaning her head against the back of the couch. “I don’t really feel like talking, anyhow. I assume you don’t mind quiet company as you haven’t chased me out yet.”
The fox lowered its head at that, thinking mournfully of the wife and child wrongfully living, and the other child who never was. Gazing at the floor, it lowered its face so its nose dipped below the edge of the couch, eyelids occasionally flickering upwards towards the visitor.
Her fingers itched to draw him, to be active, but Galinda was holding herself to her word. She would love to share with the world the small being that had helped to calm her through so many lonely nights, but she supposed she could understand how Osgar might not feel the same. After all, how much did she want to share her lupine form with others?
Smiling softly, she held out her hand, not quite touching the fox, but close enough that if Osgar chose to he could change that. The Blishwicks were never a talkative family, but maybe at least the siblings could understand one another just fine for now.
The fox did not choose to close that gap. The human that lay within was a stubborn beast, and the animal form reflected that. There was no person alive who could get past his emotional walls.
However, unlike before, he did not purposefully move away. Wrapping his tail around him like a blanket, he closed his eyes. This was as most trust as he felt able to give.