lystrom nott just has a lot of feelings (trawls) wrote in thedept, @ 2013-08-12 16:11:00
WHO Lystrom Nott (with some NPCs) WHAT Lystrom gets down to do some thinking about his life. WHEN Jumps between Friday August 9 to Monday August 12 WHERE Ministry, Nott Household and Lystrom’s flat RATING/WARNINGS Language as always. STATUS Finished TO BE AIRED Some parts, yes!
For some reason, that Monday was met by a lot of cheer.
That is, for some reason, people who knew Lystrom and who Lystrom knew from work just stopped on their way to greet him with a, “Hey!”, a smile, a wave and other similar means. To all of them, Lystrom paused, stock still in the middle of the atrium and flashed his own smile...a little. That is, stretched his lips briefly and nodded and muttered, “Morning.” It was a beautiful summer’s day, a great day for a drive and warm enough to put on a light shirt which was what he had on, matched with his new pair of jeans and his quintessential leather shoes. His backpack was slung across his shoulder and while a senior register officer complimented his pale pink top, he ran his hand down his golden curls.
This was the Lystrom Nott that the Ministry had missed for three weeks, with the kind of Bark who darted off his side and back with a key in-between her muzzle. Lystrom sighed to her as he knelt down a bit to take the shiny little thing from her and she barked with pride, her tail moving with glee. “Good job as always,” he said to her quietly before he rose to leave it with the receptionists and went on his way. He was halfway closer towards the stairwell leading down when he bumped shoulders with a smaller wizard and he stepped back with an open right, showing his palm to the robed man. “Sorry--”
“Lystrom?!”
Lystrom gaped a little. “...Wipples. Right?”
Ben Wipplespurt himself was gaping at the taller man but in a much wilder way as if Lystrom was a star (...well, fine, he was! Ugh...) who didn’t frequent the Ministry at all.
When Wipplespurt refused to talk, Lystrom cleared his throat and slipped his hand inside his pocket instead. Okay... “So umm...last week.”
Wipplespurt shut his mouth, and then suddenly stood readily, closing his feet and jutting his chin up with a firmness to his lips. “Right.”
“Right, uhh...” Lystrom nodded. “Hope you enjoy your last week here.”
Wipplespurt’s jaw fell on him again. “What, that’s it?”
Lystrom took a moment’s pause before he nodded again. “Sure.”
“You’re not going to apologise for slapping me last week?!”
Lystrom’s mouth formed the perfect round shape as he said, “Oh!” and indicated that Wipplespurt had a point with his right hand. “About that umm...” He kissed the pads of his fingers, thinking...
Wipplespurt stood his ground.
“Listen...” he began slowly. “...about that, you...”
“Yes?”
“You umm...”
“Yes, yes?”
Wipplespurt took a step closer and leaned towards the thinking Lystrom.
Finally, after a moment, Lystrom said to him, spreading his hand a little, “You really were in the way, mate.”
Wipplespurt stared at Lystrom who looked at him without remorse. And then as if they hadn’t bumped into each other just then, he sidestepped Lystrom and moved on towards the atrium.
Lystrom sighed a hiss of sorts as he slipped his hand back inside his pocket. He looked down to Bark on her side, licking her paw. “He really was in the way, you know?”
Bark looked up to him and purred in agreement.
“Frankly, I wouldn’t have slapped him, though,” went on his muttering as he proceeded to the stairwell that would lead him down to his office.
But no matter how much Lystrom said that, he never would have been able to help himself when he slapped Wipplespurt out of the way! Because for some reason, for the past three weeks, it almost seemed like...a lot of Lystrom’s qualities was just heightened. His disgust on people, his self-importance, his weariness of the...of just the whole thing, it almost seemed as if those were the only things he lived for for the past three weeks. Suddenly, he desperately wanted a change and so that was what he did: dyed his hair black, made it straight, and dressed in a way that mocked his office and their salaries. A Squib dressing much better than the lot of them, who’d ever seen that? He was unrestrained for once and that was a great feeling in this world of wizards.
All that came to an end after he slapped Wipplespurt and Wipplespurt ran away, traumatized. It was as if all his anger, impatience and annoyance exploded in that one slap and after that incident, Lystrom just felt like walking back to his place and working quietly. His desk, which itself had lost about half of his usual clutter for the past three weeks slowly gained them back as the day ended and when he heard Zurich’s prosperity cat purring, he actually released it from its three week-old prison in his cabinet and set it gently on the corner of his desk.
“It’s already 7 o’clock, mate!” Someone said as he passed him, loosening his tie. “And it’s a Friday! Surprise to still see you here...”
“Well, you know how it is,” Lystrom said easily as he worked methodically through his parchments and folders. “Big case on Monday. Can’t leave this for the weekend, can I?”
“Well, I guess you’re right. Hey, you’ve changed again!”
“What?” Lystrom looked up to him and arched his brows.
“Nothing,” the wizard laughed. “Anyway, you sure you don’t want to join us? It’s Melissa’s birthday, we’re going to celebrate it in the Fox and Hound.”
“Can’t,” Lystrom shook a folder, “Work, right?”
“Not even a drink?”
“Nope,” Lystrom shoved a bunch of folders of his desk and let them float down beside it on his feet. “Can’t. Work.”
“Can’t work?”
Lystrom sighed, “I can’t go, I’ve got work--”
“All rounds on her--”
“Jesus Christ, Mike, do I look like I give a fuck?!” came Lystrom’s explosion as he stared at the shocked man, his hands parted open a little. “Don’t you even see all this work I have in front of me right now? These things need to be filed by Monday and I don’t bloody well think that I can spare a damn for your bloody celebration.” And then when he realized how cruel that sounded, he just sighed and leaned back against his seat and squeezed the part in-between his eyes. “Listen, just tell Melissa many happy returns from me, I’m sure she’d appreciate that.”
“Sure,” Mike said, and it was great that Lystrom’s eyes were closed because he didn’t see that corner of Mike’s lip crawling up. “I’ll tell her that. Well, I won’t keep you from being employee of the month now.”
“Go to bloody hell,” Lystrom groaned.
“I’m going now. Really, welcome back to us, Strom!”
“What?” Lystrom looked at him but by then, Mike was already rescuing his girlfriend from the doorway and leading her to the lift. He groaned and ran his hand down his smooth locks. And then stopped so he could look at his black hair closely and groan for the nth time. “Jesus Christ, what was I thinking?”
He abandoned his work right then and there although the urgency of his physical appearance only struck him when he saw it in the taxi’s rear-view mirror and it was all he could do not to explode with a curse. As soon as he got home, he tore his coat and tie off him, ported to the Yaxley House and brewed a tonic to remove the alien matter in his hair.
He was moaning and groaning in his bathroom when Laika Black appeared at the frantic request of Walda the House-Elf. She announced her presence by calling out to her brother, “Lystrom?” and making herself welcome in his bedroom so she could look at him through the bathroom door. Lystrom was washing his face and sliding it out of his hands, his tap running wildly, when he turned and saw his sister.
Laika gasped. “You dyed your hair?!”
“Laika, what the hell are you doing in my bathroom?!” Lystrom snatched a towel in its ring as he marched towards her and dabbed his face on it. The tap had closed by itself as he proceeded to dry his hair, stomping past Laika who covered her mirth with her hand while he made his way towards Bark in his bed. “I didn’t.”
“Yes you did!”
“I mean I didn’t just dye it now!” Lystrom said as he whirled at her, tugging the towel off his hair -- which now poofed to something more akin to its natural curliness. “I...” he threw his hand to a side, “I dyed it three weeks ago.”
“But why?” Laika laughed.
“I just...” Lystrom pressed his fists against his sides and looked away. “I just...felt like I needed a change. From...” he waved his hand towards his entire room, “from all of this...”
That was when Laika knew that this wasn’t just some sudden sense of adventure that her brother was having so late in his years. A rather uncharacteristic sense of adventure at that...
“Is that why you wrote this journal entry?” she asked him later.
Not long after they met in his bathroom, the conversation moved to Lystrom’s flat, the man changing into a much cooler affair of old shirts and a pair of well-loved pants, a fashion which the black-haired Lystrom would have deemed a disgrace to magic-kind. He sat on his bed with his pillows on his back, his legs folded and his cat within his arms, his right fingers tracing patterns down her fur. His hair was still a wavy black although he knew better than to be impatient for his curls. As for his inborn blondness, there was a potion boiling in the cauldron for that.
Laika, sat at the foot of his bed, offered him his journal and he took it to read the entry.
He snorted and tossed his notebook aside. “Yeah,” he groaned.
Laika giggled, “That’s kind of funny.”
“Bollocks.”
Laika laughed.
Sighing, Lystrom descended further into his pillows like the sulking little brother he was. “So?” he mumbled after a bit. “What do you think?”
Laika nodded, reaching to remove her brother’s socks until he kicked her hands away. “Definitely an enchantment.”
“Shit,” he groaned, looking away, still cuddling Bark who napped in his warmth. “Can’t believe this happened to me.”
“Bark didn’t notice it?”
“She did!” Lystrom spread his hand towards Laika again. “She was barking wildly when we got on that lift, I didn’t realise why! I had too much things in my mind and I just thought it was because there were a lot of us but apparently, it was the enchantment. I can’t believe I didn’t listen to her,” he sighed and looked down to his cat. “I’m really sorry, Bark. You got changed, too...”
Laika twitched her lips a bit to a side. “Well, at least that’s all over now, isn’t it?”
“Is it?” Lystrom said as he rested his head against the pillows again and closed his eyes. “Is it really? You know, it’s a mess in that place. Spiked cupcakes, spilt potions, changing genders and now hidden enchantments...and all for what, fucking screentime? And what’s next? Flying zombies?”
“Lystrom...are you honestly thinking of--”
“--leaving?” Lystrom opened his eyes to look at his sister. “I’ve been thinking about it. But now, I think I’m serious.”
“After all this time...”
“It’s not like I have much of a choice, Laika!” Lysrom sat up in his bed. “Laika, I’m a Squib. And we all know that it’s sheer luck that I got this job and that’s the only reason I’ve been holding onto it. But how do you expect me to survive all these enchantments when I can’t even protect myself from them? I don’t have any magical skills for them and my charmed things can only do so much! It’s not fair for me, I’ll die in there before the year ends!”
“You’ve got friends.”
“I can’t rely on them.” Lystrom shook his head. “Not even Jim, I just can’t keep expecting he’d be there to rescue me like some bloody knight in shining armour! If I plan to preserve myself, I’ll have to go,” he said.
When Laika didn’t speak, he sighed and added, looking to the direction of his cauldron beyond his wall, “And I really am tired about the whole lot. Endless paper pushing, endless gossips, and all for a measly pay...”
“Demand a raise, you deserve it! You’ve been there for Merlin-knows-how-long.”
“Laika,” Lystrom laughed humorlessly as he looked at her. “I’m a bureaucrat. A public servant at the lowest level. What pay raise are you talking about?”
“I don’t know, it just,” Laika shrugged, “...if I were Vineeta, I’d put you up for a promotion.”
“What? And replace her?” Lystrom laughed. “Fuck no, I’d rather die. Besides, it doesn’t work that way in the public office.”
“Well, what are you going to do now?”
After a silent moment, Lystrom shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, “Probably put up my own business like I’ve been saying. I don’t have enough for my starting capital, though...”
“Lystrom,” this time, it was Laika who laughed, “you’re a Nott. And we have money, you’re entitled to all of them--”
“Fuck if I rely on Dad’s money for this!” Lystrom protested, wearing it on his face. “I’ll not be driven to owe that man anything beyond his fucking seed!”
“Don’t talk like that and don’t give me this.”
“Well, don’t give me that either!” Lystrom hadn’t been able to keep the glare out of his eyes although Laika didn’t wither from it, only frowned. “I’ve worked this hard and this long to make my own life, I’m not about to stop now! I’ll make do with whatever money I have and deal with it on my own.”
“Lystrom, don’t be that way,” Laika sighed, now reaching to hold her brother’s hand. “Here, I’ll help you. I’ll lend you some starting money.”
“Laika, you don’t work. Your money comes from Mum and Dad.”
Laika frowned.
In response, Lystrom again groaned and dropped his head back to the pillow. “Laika,” he said, “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad by saying that. I...I probably just need to think of this on my own for a bit.”
Which basically meant that he didn’t want to talk about it now. Okay. Laika wouldn’t push it. Instead, she stood up, gathered some things on his desk, then returned to his bedside so she could rearrange his legs to support his writing mat, a parchment and a quill. “There. I’ll get Nameless ready.”
Lystrom lifted a brow as he turned to watch her leave his room. All alone now, he turned to his parchment and started to write just as his sister said of him. But what came out of his quill weren’t words, they were figures -- sums of money known only to him and with an annoyed groan, he scratched this up and tore the parchment to crumple the part with the large numbers and throw it to his waste bin. He shook his head.
Then with a clean sheet before him again, Lystrom dumped his head on the pillow and sighed.