expiationlogs | dead to the power of two

Entry tags:

dead to the power of two | OPEN

Who: celen's boys (aka charles and viktor), you?
Where: viktor's lab, lupin, the farm
What: viktor finally loses the battle against his illness and comes back. meanwhile, charles is learning magic (badly).
Warnings: death and dying, mentions of child abuse

PROMPTS IN COMMENTS.

▷ charles.
▷ viktor.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ rafal had been squinting for the most part. human magic is so odd sometimes. wands and books, staffs and rods. but then magic isn't an innate quality for them as it is with dragons. ]

Long enough, it seems, to be confused.

What are you doing?

What does it look like?

[ he mumbles this not-actually-a-real-question in a somewhat petulant tone, like, yeah, he knows it looks bad, and the fact rafal has to ask is just more proof of that. he pushes himself up to a sitting position, and runs his hand through his hair before he actually answers, ]

Trying to learn magic. It's going... uh, reckon it's going pretty poorly, so far.

What sort of magic was it?

[ it didn't look like anything he was familiar with. ]

Uh, [ says charles, intelligibly, and looks down at the book, still open there on the ground in front of him. ]

The read-out-a-spell kind...?

[ yeah, this is his answer. it's a good thing he's only researching for a specific spell instead of broadly trying to learn, otherwise it might be bad times for aldrip. ]

[ rafal gives him a flat look. ]

I meant, what were you attempting? Elemental magic? Conjuration? A tracking spell?

Uh, [ charles repeats, and scratches the side of his neck. ]

I guess conjuration would be the closest to it? It's like a trap, sort of. Except it only seems to want to trap me and no one else.

Because you are a ghost?

[ he's assuming. [

What are you trying to trap?

Nothing, [ he sighs as he wipes a hand across his face, accidentally smearing some of the soil that stuck on his hand when he fell on his cheek. ]

I mean, I was trying a spell my best mate can cast back home, one that holds supernatural creatures in place... but since it's just tripping me up, I'm calling this a failure.

[ hmm. ]

May I see?

Yeah, please do.

[ he picks up the book and hands it to rafal — he will see that the text is mostly in latin, a spell to be recited, with emphasis on the right pronunciation and stress placed on words, the cadence of speech... none of which charles had exactly right. ]

[ rafal obviously doesn't know latin, but he's read spellbooks. knows his letters. he flicks through the pages for a moment, thoughtful. ]

If this isn't the language you usually speak, then it might be a matter of intonation.

Huh, [ says charles, and blinks — yeah, it's true, isn't it? when edwin's chanting, it sounds different than simply reading it all out. ]

You know what, you might have a point. I didn't think of that. Maybe I'll give it another go. [ though then he looks at rafal and grins sheepishly. ] Later? I don't want it to accidentally hit you.

[ rafal waves off this concern. ]

I highly doubt it can do much to me.

But it's up to you.

Right. Dragon, forgot.

[ alright, so he doesn't need to be concerned... so he might as well try again. this time, he tries to pay attention to the inflection, to the cadence of his voice — trying to mimic what he remembers edwin sounding like, not simply reading out the words.

and though it's still not a complete success, this time the golden cord appears and hovers in the air for a moment before coiling down and dropping, then disappearing in a flash.

charles whoops. ] That was brills! [ don't mind him as he bounds over to rafal to draw him into a side hug, ] Thanks, mate, that totally helped!

[ rafal is so startled that he freezes. ]

What is this, what are you doing?

[ oh, uh, did he fuck up, hold on, ]

It's... a hug? Well, not a proper one —

[ the logical next step is, of course, actually turning so he can pull rafal into a quick, actual hug.

he pulls back with a smile. ] That okay?

Enough of this — touching!

[ he is flustered now, the tips of his ears going pink. ]

Why are you even hugging me?!

[ oh, oops — ]

Oh, sorry — I'm, uh, pretty touchy with my friends.

[ a group of people that includes rafal! anyway, ] To thank you for helping out? I've been fighting with that spell for hours, now, so you really saved me.

I do not need to be thanked. And not with this . . . contact.

[ it's not charles. for rafal, contact used to be something to fear. a sibling puts their arms around you to slip a dagger in your back. a father places a hand upon your shoulder and his magic rots your head. a myriad of death sentences from family.

except nel, of course. but even nel wasn't particularly demonstrative. for the same reasons as rafal. ]

Being thanked isn't about needing it, though, is it? It's about me wanting to do it.

[ but his discomfort is obvious, for whatever reason that is... and charles aims a soft smile at him. ]

But alright, you don't like being touched, I'll remember that. Sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.

It is not you.

[ he pauses, trying to put it into words. ]

Where I was raised, touch was . . . dangerous. My siblings used it to kill one another. Or my father did.

As a result, neither my sister and I are demonstrative about . . . affection.

[ it is as if between one heartbeat and the next, charles' expression shifts; goes blank, something flashing in his eyes, sympathy and a terrible kind of understanding and an anger he stamps down nearly immediately; not at rafal, never at rafal.

but he knows a little bit of something about not feeling safe in your own family — there are scars on his back and in his soul that no time will ever erase. ]

... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you remember that. I — [ he pauses, then, swallows. looks down and away. ] I get it. And I'm so fucking sorry you had to grow up in a place like that.

It is not your fault. How were you to know?

[ most people would never touch a fell dragon to begin with. only here would that be a meaningless title.

he softens a touch at the reaction. ]

And it did not turn out so poorly. After all, I am still here.

[ how was he to know? yes, indeed — and yet, he feels bad regardless, almost as if the fact that they have at least some similarity in their experiences should have been obvious to him, from... something.

still. he aims a soft, earnest smile at rafal. ]

Yeah, you are. [ "so am i," he would say, except he's dead, so. instead, ]

But I'll remember it. I won't touch you without warning, from now on, I promise.

[ hm. he wonders if he should say more but he dismisses it. no need to plague charles with his issues. ]

It is already forgotten. Pay it no mind.

(no subject)

incorrigibles - 2025-03-13 21:17 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

nilhilistic - 2025-03-14 09:54 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only