InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Insane in the membrane"

Old Man (modusmutandis) wrote in refreshrpg,
@ 2015-03-27 10:12:00

Entry tags:

! log, 1998-march, x-character: hallam selwyn, x-character: marcelia selwyn

Who: Hallam and Marcelia Selwyn
What: After battle healing.
Where: Selwyn Manor
When: Sunday, March 22, 1998, (backdated)
Rating: TBD
Status: Incomplete

The night spun around the Selwyn manor as it always had. The dark sky had opened up to show off the slice of the pale moon in the sky. A group meeting with a singular woman had been a poor decision to begin with, the childish way she handled things previously, any of them should have guessed she would twist the meeting the way she did. Her late arrival had been more surprising than the immediate clash between the Order and the ex-DeathEaters.

Hallam was tough skinned. He had a naturally high pain tolerance like the alligator his patronus would take the form of. Enchanted sigils tattooed across his shoulders and down his arm allowed for extra protection in a duel, but had their own drawbacks. Depending on the spells cast at him, there were delay times. Experiencing pain over a period of days could be a lot easier to handle and stop a poor shift in a duel. Hallam took the good with the bad as anyone could.

Having finally made it home, DeathEater mask and glamour long gone, Hallam stumbled into the drawing room and laid down on the couch. If blood was to stain the fabric he laid upon, he would have the furniture reupholstered. The woman he had fought could have been better in the duel, Hallam lived to have someone give him a run for his money, but he'd dueled his ex-girlfriend and his wife on different occasions that would have put the little the other woman had managed to shame. Of course, that did not mean that he did not have injuries or was hurting, only that he could have kept on going.

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bankedinterest
2015-03-27 03:29 pm UTC (link)

Marcelia had opted not to attend the meeting with Lady Noir. Really there was no reason to, she had enough on her plate and they didn't need both her and Hallam to be there, one would be enough honestly. So once Hallam had left, she'd taken some of her files from work over to his office to sit in the armchair and wait for him while she read them over. She had no idea how long this meeting would take, but as time ticked by she began to wonder what was keeping him. Really he should be back by now, had they all gone and done more after the meeting? Or had the mysterious woman pulled something? Who knew. But as it got later it only confirmed for her that something unplanned was going on, and Marcelia liked things planned.

Finally the wards that alerted them to arrivals went off to signal Hallam being home. She closed her book (having long since finished with those files) and waited. He always went by his office, she knew that he'd come in shortly and tell her all about it. He'd come join her on the armchair and they'd discuss what these new developments meant and plot future plans.

Except he didn't come up. At least not right away like he should have.

That was significant enough for her, and Marcelia was on her feet in a sweep of robes, nearly knocking over the house elf who'd come rushing in to tell her the master was hurt and in the drawing room.

She didn't even let the wretched creature finish, apparating off with a crack and showing up not far from the couch before rushing over to him. Someone had hurt him, it didn't matter that he no doubt still won against whoever it was and he had great tolerance for pain, someone had hurt Hallam. Her Hallam. "Who did this to you?" There was great concern on her face, yes, but also a cold kind of restrained fury in her eyes as she looked him over, hands deftly moving aside robes to see where he was hurt and just how badly. People who caused that look in her eyes never tended to last long, or if they did it wasn't much of an existence.

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modusmutandis
2015-04-09 04:03 am UTC (link)

Blood stained the dark robes that draped over Hallam's body and onto the floor. His eyes had been closed but they opened abruptly at the apparation coming into his presence. The fight had put his subconscious in self-preservation mode. His fingers twitched toward his wand and then relaxed at the sound of his wife's voice.

"Always on point, aren't we?' He asked. Blue eyes closed once more and voice strained with pain, yet still controlled. of all the pride Hallam had, he held his constant discipline on the highest pedestal.

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bankedinterest
2015-04-09 04:15 am UTC (link)

Marcelia shook her head at him but quickly sat on the edge of the couch, her hands already moving his robes aside to see where he was hurt and just how bad it was. "Would you expect any less?" She looked over her shoulder at the house elf behind her, glaring the poor thing into skittering away to get supplies. Really how could they be so useless in an emergency?

"Love, you'll need to talk to me during this. Start with a name, who did this. Then tell me what happened." She snapped her fingers impatiently as the house elf came back with towels to help stop the bleeding for now. She'd found the slashes he'd suffered already, some of the burns too, and while it could've been worse, it was bad enough in her opinion.

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modusmutandis
2015-04-09 04:33 am UTC (link)

The hum of pain that passed through him, ever rotating through his system, exhausted his muscles and mind. The tattoos glowed with a silvery light, ebbing bright to dull and back again. Hallam sucked in a breath. His robes had partially clotted into the wounds. Instinctively he grabbed her wrist to stop her, only to let go as quickly. If anything could stop his instincts to fight it was his wife.

Hallam opened his eyes to look at Marcelia. "The Order of the Phoenix." He pressed his head back into the rest of the couch to adjust how he was laying. "Bloody half-blood thought she could match me." A smirk curled the corners of his mouth, only to disappear a moment later. Hallam raised his hand to Marcelia's face, running his thumb over her cheek. He was not a man of many regrets, but there were a few that made his life difficult. The most important regret was Delilah and the part of him that was in pain blamed the mudblood for him not being able to kill the woman after her glamour had faded. Delilah was at fault and yet it poked at the small unfrozen section of his heart, that would later make him send an owl to his adopted daughter.

He licked his lips. "I did not kill her though, and you shall not either."

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bankedinterest
2015-04-09 04:53 am UTC (link)

While he spoke she used her wand to carefully undo his robes, get them out of his wounds and at least enough out of the way so she could survey the damage properly. Marcelia pursed her lips as she looked over his injuries, she hated seeing him hurt, his wards had done their job but there still was plenty to fix.

Once the towels had been put on the slashes that were still bleeding and the house elves had been sent off to get some numbing potions along with some pain relieving ones, she took a moment to give the hand on her cheek a squeeze. "She did this to you Hallam, I would kill people for far less. You'll need to give me a better reason not to see her dead," she said softly, giving his hand a kiss. She was humouring him a little at the moment, most of her mind making a checklist of things to do for his injuries, and a little of the remaining part thinking of how she'd like to see this half-blooded woman die for this.

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modusmutandis
2015-04-16 04:30 am UTC (link)

"In time, love. We do not strike until the most opportune time." He sucked in a breath in pain. Hallam hated above all else, being injured in any manner. A little pain could be enticing, and really it was not the pain that made him hate injuries, but the weakness that came with it. He saw himself as better than others. The Selwyn name could be traced back to the beginning of time and the only other rivals in heritage were the Blacks. He was a part of the purest bloodlines and therefore should not ever be seen as weak.

The thump of his blood through his veins could be felt in every inch of his being. Exhaustion weighed on him. He wanted to kill something, since he missed his meal in the Potion's professor, but his body could not make it to a seated position even if he had a target.

Hallam pulled Marcelia's head down to him and kissed her gently. He knew her mind was on his wounds and healing him, but the healing would work better if he had a kiss from his love.

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bankedinterest
2015-04-16 08:12 am UTC (link)

When he clarified that he simply meant they wouldn't kill the woman yet, Marcelia smiled. It was a slow and sinister smile full of ideas behind it. "And when have you ever found me to act rashly darling? Naturally we bide our time. When you feel a bit better we'll plan how to toy with her and draw this out. I don't plan on giving her a quick or sudden death."

No, a quick death was too merciful and she wasn't much for mercy when it came to these things. Besides, the two of them were good with patient revenge. Timing was everything after all.

While Marcelia could've gently waved Hallam off, she could see the house elf scurrying over with the potions and there were things to do, she let him pull her down for a kiss. She was distracted, yes, but she knew it'd make him feel better and she was worried about her husband. She smoothed his hair out and kissed him again before giving Hallam a long look. "Love, as much as I would prefer to kiss you better, I do need to deal with your injuries. Now take the potion for me and do try to move too much. I promise you'll feel better shortly." She took one of the other vials the elf had brought and began pouring drops of the numbing potion onto his wounds. "It should feel better in a minute dear. I do need you to stay awake though. Tell me about what happened, did this Lady Noir even show?"

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modusmutandis
2015-04-21 09:07 pm UTC (link)

There was a part of his mind that wondered if the professor could be turned to their side; not necessarily the Death Eaters, but maybe a useful toy. Regardless he wanted to toy with the woman for now and maybe have another duel with her when she was more on par with him.

The sigils glowed bright once more bringing a roan of pain from Hallam. Blood dripped over his bare torso onto the clothes that had been moved aside. The robes would be burned later. It was unfortunate as they were beautiful. He reopened his eyes to look at the potion his wife was holding. With a shallow breath, he grabbed the potion and drank it.

Hallam's eyes had closed once more as she put the numbing potions on his wounds and he did not open them to answer her. "She was there, I think... but not until the fighting had already started. If I see her again I may turn her insides to dust. Neither group seemed aware that the other would be there, by the way it all started..." Hallam stopped talking, unconsciousness taking him for the moment.

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bankedinterest
2015-04-22 07:42 am UTC (link)

After the potions had been poured on, Marcelia had her wand in hand as she waited a minute for them to start to take effect. It wouldn't take long, but she was inspecting the deepest slash while she waited and listened to him. There were various ways of doing this, but she preferred to be slower and more precise. The potions had stalled the bleeding and this way he'd heal better and scar far less.

With one hand on him to keep the edges of the wound at least far enough apart to see how deep it went, she went to work magically stitching together the deep layers of fascia and moving up to the shallower layers as she worked her way down to wound. She had such a laser focus on the task at hand that it almost looked as if she wasn't paying attention to his words, but she was still listening. And so far it was sounding like this Lady Noir had set them up. When partway through stitching the first slash up he stopped talking, she paused for a short moment, still at work, to give him time to pick it up. "Hallam?" When he didn't respond in any way, she suddenly stopped and leaned over him. "Hallam? Hallam, love, you need to stay awake," she said while shaking his shoulder a bit, a note of urgency creeping into her voice.

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