acrimsonking (acrimsonking) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-02-09 10:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | #october 2017, anthony, anthony x caius, caius |
Who: Caius and Anthony
When: Early evening, Sunday, October 1st
Where: The D’Onofrio Management Offices (near the marina)
Status: Status
Despite the fog induced chaos from the last week, the people of Point Pleasant came out to celebrate Oysterfest in record numbers, something Anthony attributed to the desire to get outside now that the weather was clear and the violent urges had quelled. And while Caius was officially in charge of overseeing Oysterfest, Anthony stayed close by, either wandering through the crowds as a ‘patron’, or working in his offices that overlooked the marina and pier itself, keeping an eye on things, even at a distance. He had been intrigued by the fog that had rolled in the weekend before, fascinated by the way it settled and then silently attacked those brave enough to venture out into it. The news had reported multiple injuries last Tuesday, and a few fog related deaths. Anthony wondered if anyone would be charged, or if the ever incompetent police force would chalk them up to accidents.
He had to admit it had been entertaining to watch the fog roll and the town unravel. To watch them try to make sense of it, for the “EPA” to dummy up a believable report and then ditching town before anyone could question them. But Anthony was quite convinced that no one in Point Pleasant truly wanted the answers to what was going on. Most had lived here long enough to be quite content with burying their heads in the sand until the next catastrophe, and then struggling to survive long enough for it to pass.
But today Anthony had other things on his mind than unnatural weather disasters. Oysterfest was winding down, and he knew Caius would be returning to the office any moment now. Given it was Sunday, the office itself was quiet, with most of his employees enjoying themselves down at the marina. They hadn’t had much time to talk one on one since Caius returned from Anguilla with news that he and Reagan were engaged, but Anthony decided now was the time to get things out in the open, before his relationship with Reagan went any further.
To say it had been a trying week would have been a massive understatement. The fog itself had caused enough problems for business -- Caius had been fielding more calls than he cared to think about in regard to boats losing their way to the marina, unable to dock -- and then catastrophe had really struck. His injuries from Reagan’s violent outburst outside were nearly healed, thanks to her considerable skills, but the ghost of a red handprint was still lingering on his left cheek, and he would have scars on his body from the magical slices. Some concealer took care of his face, at least. Reagan didn’t seem any physically worse for wear from his retaliations, but Caius kept thinking he saw more shadows around her eyes than usual. Things had been a bit tense and sad between them, but Caius didn’t know how to even talk about what had happened, not in any way that mattered.
Oysterfest hadn’t allowed him to take the weekend -- or the days leading up to it, for that matter -- off to think about it, either. So as usual, he threw himself into work to keep his mind off of everything else. The event had been going off without a hitch, with even more money than they were accustomed to rolling in. It was good for business, and Caius was glad to have at least one positive thing going on. After he’d finished up with a few of the last vendors to leave, he headed up to the marina office, ready to close the books for the day and go home.
The lobby was quiet and seemingly deserted when Caius walked in, shrugging out of his coat as he made his weary way toward his office. Thinking he was alone, he let his shoulders slump and the air of competence slide off of him, weariness moving into his face.
Anthony had been inside one of the conference rooms overlooking the water. He could see the marina from where he stood in the dark, watching from a distance as the pier grew considerably less crowded. People were dispersing, heading home, or to one of the local bars to continue the party. He heard Caius enter the office, but didn't call out to him. Instead he waited until he heard the door to Caius's office open down the hall before he moved away from the windows, walking from the conference room toward Caius's office, his hands slipped casually inside the pockets of his slacks.
His steps were quiet and he didn't speak until he was settled in the doorway, noting how tired his son looked, thinking he was alone. "Seems to have been a success," Anthony said in lieu of greeting. He might startle Caius, but it didn't bother Anthony. Caius knew to always aware of his surroundings, even when he thought he was alone. "I'm looking forward to reading the final numbers this week."
Anthony’s voice did indeed startle Caius, but he didn’t let it show. It manifested just as a jerk in the middle of his chest that he kept well contained. He recognized his father’s voice, of course, and it wasn’t so bizarre that he would be in the office as such a big event wound down, so it wasn’t too much of a shock. Caius just felt jumpy lately. There had been too much turmoil. He hung his coat up on the rack near the door, giving Anthony a nod in greeting. “Me too,” he agreed as he turned to make his way to the other side of his desk. Caius sat down with a sigh, running his hand through his hair and opening up his laptop. He wasn’t going to ignore his father, but he did want to get done with everything so he could go home. “I should have them all to you by Tuesday at the latest.”
Anthony nodded, watching Caius from the doorway for a moment or two before he stepped into the office. He didn't sit, but wandered over to the windows to glance outside again. The sky would be getting dark soon, and the lights would come on along the pier. People were still walking along the marina. Families. Back to normal. It was an easy façade. "How are things with Reagan?" Anthony asked, watching some lights flicker on in one of the boats docked at the marina. He was well aware that Caius probably wanted to finish up and go home, but unfortunately, Anthony had other plans. His wife probably wouldn't agree with them, but Anthony always did what he felt was necessary for himself, and his family... or at the very least, Caius, given he was Anthony's son and heir.
Caius glanced over at Anthony’s back, a line appearing between his eyebrows. His parents often asked about Reagan, that ‘how are things’ question a refrain that threaded all throughout his adult life. But it was kind of odd without any segue between business and relationships. Caius had to quickly re-calibrate his thinking, since he and Reagan were only engaged as far as their families knew, and they were keeping what had happened in the fog just between them. “She’s doing well,” he answered, sounding as casual as he could about it. “We’re doing well. Just settling back into work and life right now. No real wedding plans to speak of yet, though I’m sure you’ve heard about it endlessly from Mother.” Caius sounded vaguely bemused about it.
Anthony hadn't heard it endlessly from Miriam. His wife was too concerned about this engagement to even pretend to be excited about planning a wedding. In public, of course she was ecstatic, but in private, the two of them were more focused on how to stop this. Anthony breathed in through his nose and exhaled softly before he turned to face Caius. "You're doing well," Anthony repeated, taking a few steps toward the desk, his hands still in his pockets, still casual and unconcerned. He tilted his head, studying Caius for a moment before he cocked a brow. "Is that Reagan's handiwork on your cheek?" It was faint, the outline of fingers barely noticeable. But Anthony could see it, could recognize that Caius hadn't used magical means to cover it up. He doubted it was the first time Reagan had hit his son. The woman was fire, full of temper, like her mother, Veronica. He couldn't recall ever seeing evidence of Reagan's element left behind on Caius's body, however.
Goddammit. Caius took his fingers off of his laptop keyboard and sat back in his chair, releasing a long quiet sigh of his own. Of course Anthony had noticed, there was nothing that didn’t escape his father. Very little, at least. It was part of what had made growing up under him so difficult and exhausting. Caius turned to face him more fully, aware that a lie would fall apart right then. “There was an incident in the fog on Tuesday,” he said, his tone soft and even. “It wasn’t her fault.” Granted, there had been doubts flickering in his mind every so often, wondering if that fog had just brought out anger and violence that already existed ... but entertaining those doubts also meant looking at himself. He’d tried to kill his wife right back, in a more horrible way than she’d been throwing at him. That didn’t square with how he really felt about her, so it had to have been more from the fog’s influence, didn’t it? But of course Anthony would be unhappy about it, Caius was his son.
Anthony cocked his brow, not terribly surprised by the explanation, but wondering if Caius really believed that it hadn't been Reagan's fault. "What happened in the fog," Anthony asked, since he was sure there was far more to the story than the fog had simply forced Reagan's hand. He wanted to hear the full story before he decided how to respond. Anthony supposed he wanted to make sure that this was indeed the fog, or part of it, and not the curse starting to take effect. "And please don't lie to me," he added simply, because he wouldn't put it past his son to try and sugar coat the truth.
Caius thought back to the panic that had taken over after they’d gotten back inside the house, the fear that he’d fatally damaged Reagan with the Obscurities, and the urge to call his father for help. How Reagan hadn’t wanted him to do that, she hadn’t wanted any of their parents to know. He felt his loyalties torn, not for the first time, but for the first time between his father and his wife. He was silent for a moment, his eyes drifting to somewhere past Anthony’s arm before they came back to his face. “I was at her house. I woke up to her yelling for me from outside. I went out there, it was impossible to see much of anything, but she’d called up some fire, so I followed the light. She was angry, irrational. She slapped me with the hand she’d conjured in,” he said, gesturing vaguely at his cheek. The next part came out of him slower, all of it much harder to admit to. “By that time I ... wasn’t myself either. We exchanged some magical blows. I got cut a few times. So I sent the Obscurities after her.” Caius tilted his head to one side and rubbed at his brow, obviously still perturbed about that. “It’s nothing but dumb luck we didn’t kill each other,” he muttered.
Anthony listened with a calm expression throughout the entire explanation, not entirely surprised to hear what had happened. They weren’t the only people in Point Pleasant who had turned violent in the fog. Perhaps they were the only witches to do so, but Anthony didn't know for sure. He couldn't quite help the way his jaw tightened, however, when Caius mentioned sending the Obscurities after Reagan. No, he didn't like hearing Reagan had cut Caius, because he understood how dangerous magical injuries could be. But the Obscurities were a different matter completely. Obscurities were not some tame, magical weapon. He could already imagine Veronica's reaction if she found out. She would go after Caius without a second thought. "You sent the Obscurities after her," Anthony repeated, his tone tight as he stepped forward. "You say it so nonchalantly, Caius. What did you have them do to her? Is she all right?"
Caius’s nostrils flared as his temper did too, and he stood up to be at eye level with his father. “Don’t mistake composure for nonchalance,” he said, his own tone tight. “I was not in control of myself. And don’t think that I haven’t agonized about that every second since then, and spent every spare moment poring over the books you gave me, looking for anything to reassure me that I didn’t do any permanent damage. Because she’s ... she seems okay.” His voice shifted from defensive into concerned, and Caius ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted them to kill her. It was the most horrible feeling,” he murmured. He pressed the heel of his hand to one eye and scrunched his face up a bit.
Anthony exhaled through his nose, realizing that his criticism wouldn't be welcome in that moment, or acknowledged. Caius seemed to know he had made a mistake, a big one. Sure, there was a small part of Anthony that felt pride. Pride that Caius had been able to conjure the Obscurities, pride that he had gone head to head with a rather powerful witch and... well, Anthony couldn't say he was victorious, given the circumstances, but Caius had been able to wield some pretty powerful magic with very little consequence to himself. "You still have a lot to learn about them," Anthony said. "The fact that you were able to call them off before they killed her is impressive." Clearly that wasn't the part to focus on. Anthony sighed. "Are you sure she's all right? Physically? She's been acting like herself?"
Caius would be a liar if he said there wasn’t a small part of him that was proud of his performance, especially under that kind of pressure. That was his ego talking, the compulsion to be the Best, to gain as much power as he could. While most of him was disgusted by what he’d done, that part was focused on all the potential he’d gotten a glimpse of. “Physically, yes, she seems fine,” he said, letting his hand drop. “She coughed up some blood at first, but that passed.” Caius sat back down and pulled open one of his bottom desk drawers. He pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses to pour them a drink. Anthony had a wet bar in his office, but Caius preferred to keep his stash quieter than that. “The rest of it ... as far as I can tell, she’s herself, but things have been understandably tense.” Caius nudged one scotch toward his father, then tossed the other one back before he refilled the short glass.
Coughing up blood, even temporarily, was never a good sign. It meant internal damage somewhere, but Anthony had to imagine the damage itself was minimal if Reagan had recovered already. Anthony moved to sit down in one of the chairs in front of Caius's desk. He reached for his scotch and sat back, but didn't immediately drink it. Instead, he watched his son for a moment, his wedding ring tapping idly against the glass before he spoke again. "Keep an eye on her," Anthony suggested. "If you notice any... extreme changes in her personality, or even her physical appearance, call me. Not Veronica. You said you wanted them to kill her, but then you called them off. That's dark magic, Caius. There are consequences to dark magic, even the most temporary use of it, especially with Obscurities." Caius knew all of this, of course, but it felt important to stress the fact. Christ, he could only imagine the turmoil if Caius had succeeded in killing Reagan, or if they had succeeded in killing each other. Had it been solely the fog? What had prompted Reagan to go outside in the first place? Anthony knew he shouldn’t chalk up every decision the two of them made to their family history, but it was difficult not to, especially now that Reagan and Caius were engaged.
Caius nursed the second round of scotch instead of drinking it all at once, sitting back in his chair to look back at his father. Or at least the space around his father. He was finding it hard to meet anyone’s eyes who truly knew him in the past few days. He and Reagan had had fights before, some of which had even gotten a little physical, but they’d never turned their magic on each other. He was grateful to be alive, but if the Obscurities had hurt Reagan any worse, Caius knew he’d be wishing she had hit his jugular with the first swipe. “Reagan doesn’t want her parents to know anything,” he said. “So if Veronica finds out, it won’t come from us.” He knew that Veronica Kelly was a force to be reckoned with, and he doubted she would be very understanding of the circumstances, so that was good for him. For now, anyway. Caius took a small swallow. “I know there will be a price,” he continued quietly, dark eyes dropping to his glass. “Perhaps I even owe them a life. I just have to make sure it’s not Reagan’s.”
Anthony knew it was a risk, leaving Veronica in the dark about what had happened. But he felt like he could handle this situation without her getting involved. Anthony drank his scotch and thought that maybe he wouldn't have to say a word. Maybe this fog related incident was truly the beginning of the end for these two, and a different kind of magic would be what pulled them apart. And yet, at the same time, there was the suspicion that this was much larger than that, that fate was already at work and Anthony was running out of time. It drove him crazy, being unable to take complete control of the situation. Anthony was used to having control in everything and he felt it slipping out of his hands. "Caius," Anthony said, leaning over to place his near empty glass back on his son's desk. "This engagement is a mistake. Marrying Reagan will be the downfall of you both." He realized how dramatic that probably sounded, but Anthony was in no mood to sugar coat. Was he ever?
Caius had been caught up in a thought spiral, wondering if he would have to kill someone to placate the Obscurities, or if they might attack Reagan again in a way he couldn’t control, or if they might end up eating him from the inside, but his father’s words abruptly pulled him out of it. He looked up, thick brows drawing together. It wasn’t just a ‘are you sure you want to make this decision’ sort of statement, there was additional weight to his voice that went beyond parental concern. “What ... because of this?” he asked, making a vague gesture before he took another sip of scotch. “Isolated incident. And I’ll deal with the fallout somehow.”
"It's not really that isolated, if you think about it. It was extreme, yes, but just another incident between you and Reagan. The both of you have been experiencing incidents since you were teenagers. You've just never tried to kill each other before... that I know of." Anthony cocked a brow and settled back in his seat again. "Caius, there's a lot you don't know about your history, and about Reagan's history. We've all done a pretty decent job at shielding you both from it, but some magic is so powerful that it's damn near impossible to destroy, even with the use of blood magic. I understand you believe this was the fog that prompted the both of you to act in the way that you did, but I tend to think it was more than that. I didn't want to have to tell you the truth, but I'm starting to feel like it's necessary."
Caius’s jaw had clenched, and he’d been about to defend his and Reagan’s relationship when Anthony kept talking. What he said took precedence over defensiveness, and Caius sat forward, his eyes narrowing at his father. “What truth, what are you talking about?” he asked sharply. He almost asked who ‘we’ was too, but Caius was pretty damn sure he already knew that covered both of his parents, at least. Whatever the truth was, it sounded bad and like something he needed to know a long time ago.
Miriam wouldn't be pleased with Anthony telling Caius something they had both worked hard to keep secret, but his son was a grown man now, and he was planning his future. He and Reagan were no longer hormonal teenagers and there was only so much Anthony could manipulate before it worked against him. He had pushed Reagan into buying a home of her own, but she still had an engagement ring on her finger. It was time. "Our families are cursed," Anthony began, his tone calm and casual, as if they were discussing the weather rather than the tragedy that had followed their family around for centuries. "Ours, and the Kelly's. I'm not going to give you a history lesson, Caius, but the reason why our ancestors became two of the Six is because they were in love. Another witch in this town was jealous of their relationship and cursed their bloodline with dark magic. She went to the Reverend Burroughs and whispered accusations in his ear... not that he needed the encouragement." Burroughs had been something of another world, Anthony knew that much. He fully expected to see the "man" again in Point Pleasant. The question was just when.
"The curse didn't end with their executions. It's continued through the years... with a son or daughter from each family feeling drawn to one another, falling in love." He purposely used air quotes around love. "Their relationship is doomed from the beginning. It destroys them both. Nothing can break this curse… so many have tried and failed. Veronica and I knew as soon as you were both born that this would happen. We've tried to keep you apart, to keep you both safe. The magic is too powerful, even for us."
To anyone else, it might have sounded like an insane fantasy, something to tell kids around a campfire at night. But Caius knew his father didn’t bullshit, not about magic, and especially not to him. He sat there and stared at Anthony, feeling stunned and numb at first and like he wasn’t quite in his body, hearing these words. Cursed. Destroys them both. Doomed. He could hardly believe it -- he didn’t want to believe it, that was for damn sure -- but Caius had never questioned his father’s honesty when it came to something like this, and he didn’t feel capable of starting now. It was shocking, like hearing someone he loved was dying. Which might be completely accurate, judging by the sound of things.
There was a long stretch of silence while Caius tried to digest that information. He couldn’t even be angry about the sarcastic air quotes, because the rest of it was too overwhelming. They were cursed, he and Reagan. It may have been aimed at their whole families, but it came down to the two of them, didn’t it? “You knew when we were born,” he repeated quietly, his lips feeling clumsy around the words. Caius’s heart had started to pound, and he wished now he’d gulped down half the bottle of scotch before Anthony opened his mouth. “And you still let us grow up together? You didn’t think to tell me, to warn us? You didn’t deem this as information maybe I should fucking have?” His voice grew in volume and intensity through the questions, and Caius rose up out of his chair again. A breeze from nowhere blew through the room, and he felt like dark clouds were rolling over all of his thoughts.
"You were too young," Anthony said simply, watching Caius stand with a calm expression. His son's magic didn't scare him. Anthony could incapacitate Caius with a snap of his fingers. And he couldn't blame Caius for getting angry, and when witches got angry, it was harder to control the magic simmering inside. "You were going to be drawn together no matter what we did, short of one of us leaving town. The curse didn't trigger until your magic triggered. That was when you and Reagan began dating, if you remember. If we had told you then, you would have tried to change it, to fix it like so many had done before you. It would have been a fruitless effort. We tried to keep you apart, and most of the time, it worked... but then you wouldn't be able to stay away from each other... we seemed content with the cycle, only because we knew we could work at keeping you apart again, albeit temporarily." Anthony sighed, tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair he sat in. He felt the breeze in the room and moved to stand, eye to eye with Caius. "I'm telling you now," he said simply. "You're engaged and now you've tried to kill each other, fog, or no fog. It needs to end."
The breeze wasn’t intentional, it was just magic leaking through his metaphorical fingers as his emotions took over. Why hadn’t one of them left town, with this over their heads? Their families had deep roots in Point Pleasant, but they ought to have been living on opposite sides of the fucking globe for their children’s sake. But no, they stayed and tempted fate over and over again, already knowing the forces at work. They hadn’t even tried to reason with the two ill-fated lovers, hadn’t tried show them how impossible breaking the curse was, or tell them they needed avoid one another. Caius had been a smart teenager, he thought he could’ve handled it then.
Caius didn’t think he’d ever hated his parents with the intensity that he felt in that moment. They’d killed him and Reagan, both of them, if all this was true. Feeling cold and pale and a little trembly with rage, Caius lifted his hand and dipped his thumb into his collar, catching the chain that was around his neck to pull it out from under his shirt. His amulet was there as always, and now his wedding ring was with it. He let it drop against his chest where Anthony could see it. “It’s too late,” Caius said through his teeth. “We didn’t just get engaged in Anguilla. It can’t just end.”
Anthony tried to tap into some empathy for his son. He had managed to avoid misery, had used his magic to make something of his life, to gain power and success. Love had never been a priority for him. He did love his wife, and he loved his children, but they had always been second to his magic, and he had no trouble admitting that to himself. It was difficult for him to put himself in Caius's shoes, to feel that kind of desire for another, and the grief. He had never wanted what Caius and Reagan had and a part of him felt like this would be the best thing for Caius. Not only to save his life, but to re-prioritize his ambitions. At the moment, however, his son was angry, and Anthony supposed he could understand that emotion.
His gaze ticked to the ring hanging from Caius's chain and he stared at it for a moment before his eyes reached Caius's again. They had gotten married in Anguilla. How had he not seen that coming? How had he missed the signs? Anthony's temper rose swiftly, but it flashed only once in his eyes, revealing itself in the flaring of his nose. Idiots. Even if there had been no curse, Anthony would have felt the same. Love made fools of everyone. Including his son, who had so much potential. "Marriages can be annulled. I can see to it."
“No,” Caius barked, more color rising in his neck and cheeks. He had had plenty of occasion in his life to feel betrayed, mostly centering around his relationship with Reagan and their various revenge affairs ... but that had been nothing compared to how this felt. His father, his own flesh and blood, the man he tried so hard to model his own life after, probably the person he trusted the most in the world had kept something so huge from him. Something that could’ve completely changed the course of his life. Anthony and Miriam and Veronica had all just assumed they knew how their children would react, that they couldn’t be reasoned with and had to be handled instead, well into their twenties ... and now here they all were. “You’ve done more than enough. Get out.” He had never ordered Anthony around before, but Caius was shaking with boiling emotions, and he honestly couldn’t stand to look at his father for another second longer. One of them was leaving, either way.
There was the instinctual urge to respond, to reach out across the desk and take Caius by the throat and remind him who he was talking to. But through Anthony's anger was a calm sense of understanding that this was not the time to force his power on his son. There would come a time for that, but this was not it. So Anthony turned away to leave, waiting until he reached the door before he paused. "Take some time... cool down. We'll discuss this when you're ready to accept it." It was up to Caius whether or not he wanted to tell Reagan, but Anthony supposed she would find out eventually. This marriage would have to end, one way or another. "Don't do anything stupid, Caius."
Caius was too angry to feel surprise that Anthony actually listened to him. His father owned the building, owned the whole company, owned Caius’s life, just because Caius’s name was on the office door didn’t mean anything. But Anthony was going, giving him space, and that was probably best for everyone right then. Caius couldn’t think of a response for him that wouldn’t prolong this encounter and maybe burn bridges that he couldn’t afford to burn. He had to analyze this, he had to figure out his options, he had to talk to Reagan. She deserved to know what had been kept from them for so long. So Caius just stared at his father in the doorway, saying nothing at all, and willing him to go away now that he’d had the last word.
The space wouldn't last for long. Anthony would allow Caius to sleep on it, but then they would have to talk about this, and figure out what to do. He didn't trust his son to think clearly about the situation and it would be unwise to leave Caius to his own devices for several days. Especially if he told Reagan. All he could really do is hope his son and his son's wife didn't do anything stupid before the families could figure out the means to end this without anyone getting hurt. Anthony nodded once at Caius before walking out of the office to return to his own and gather his things. Miriam was going to be upset when he explained what had happened, but Anthony could handle it. There were more important things to worry about now.
Caius waited until he couldn’t hear Anthony’s footsteps anymore, and then slumped back into his chair. He covered his face with his hands, trying to breathe through all of the anger and hurt and more worry than he was used to handling. He could’ve tried to pump his father for details about the curse, try to figure out the ins and outs of it, demand to know what they’d actually done about it, what they’d tried and given up on. How hard could they have tried? Three of the most powerful witches in Point Pleasant couldn’t break it? That meant Caius had to find a way. He had to.
He pulled himself together enough to down the last of his second drink, then pull his phone out. He had to talk to Reagan, she had to be involved. Caius knew that was a risk, that maybe she would blow up and confront her mother and maybe this would all get out of control, but he couldn’t keep this from her. It had been kept from him and he wanted to murder someone, and he was the more level-headed of the two of them. If he didn’t tell her about this and she found out about it? It truly would destroy them. They had to have a game plan, because he knew his father wouldn’t waste time making one. Be at home asap, he texted his wife, standing up again to gather his stuff. Omw. Important.