Darcias hummed. A half-roll of her eyes followed to accentuate her disagreement. Her hands were laced together in her lap, but white knuckles revealed the strain of effort to resist arranging more things upon her desk. A nervous habit, but nervous habits were not regal.
"Your idealizations that Julianna is somehow special are what's making this so difficult for you." Her tone remained so light and pleasant that the sound of it was more insulting than her words. Darcias could praise her sister and damn her all in the same breath, masking her true feelings. If there was any sort of organic familial bond between the two of them it was wildly difficult to find.
With a bird-like shrug of her shoulders, feathers ruffled as she briefly turned her face away from him. "You can only do so much for someone who doesn't want to be helped," she explained, ignoring the storm that was brewing inside her company. She inhaled, as if steeling herself for something as she turned her gaze to Owen. Looking him in the eyes as he demanded.
"I was at your funeral," she admitted. "It rained, but it was a lovely service otherwise. Julianna cried the entire time, though she promised everyone she was okay," she cocked her head, but her eyes never left his, cold and near unblinking she stared him down. "But we both know that Julianna was never a good liar."
Julianna. The headmaster seemed to use the name deliberately. They both knew of the near privilege it was to call the woman in question by her birth name.
"First, Cain left. Off to college, and once again, she promised everyone she was fine. Then, it was Anita, running away and leaving her alone. Then, the Covenant came. They took everything and ruined your home while she watched." Darcias paused, with a small sigh, finally breaking her unfaltering stare. "We both know Julianna does not do well on her own," she explained, softly. "When she attempted to kill herself, is when Kama and I decided to step in."
Darcias stood, a tower of gauzy blue robes and blonde curls. She looked down at Owen and the small downward curl of her mouth was enough to convey her displeasure. She leaned forward, mimicking his attempt at a threat, wings flaring out behind her as she placed a hand over his; the one still resting upon the weighted bauble. Magic coursed from her hand into his, a pulse of cold that was uncomfortable but not painful. The paperweight beneath their palms was slowly incased in crystalline ice while his hand remained unmarred.
"I have no reason to lie to you Owen," her tone was low, teetering on the edge of impatience. The eye in his hurricane. "All of this means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me."
She kept her hand upon his as the ice began to crack the surface of the glass paperweight. Owen would feel the biting temperature by now. With the other, she pulled open a drawer and produced a small, unmarked box from within it.
Finally, she released his hand, but only to grab him by the wrist and turn his palm upwards. From the box, she dumped three rings into his open hand. An engagement ring and two wedding bands. "I cannot change what I have done," she repeated, a subtle emphasis revealing what she wouldn’t admit before.
A glimmer of possibility if he choose to recognize it.
Straightening, she crossed her arms. "The best I can do is remove your memories of her as well. Honestly, they don't seem to be doing you any favors."
"Your idealizations that Julianna is somehow special are what's making this so difficult for you." Her tone remained so light and pleasant that the sound of it was more insulting than her words. Darcias could praise her sister and damn her all in the same breath, masking her true feelings. If there was any sort of organic familial bond between the two of them it was wildly difficult to find.
With a bird-like shrug of her shoulders, feathers ruffled as she briefly turned her face away from him. "You can only do so much for someone who doesn't want to be helped," she explained, ignoring the storm that was brewing inside her company. She inhaled, as if steeling herself for something as she turned her gaze to Owen. Looking him in the eyes as he demanded.
"I was at your funeral," she admitted. "It rained, but it was a lovely service otherwise. Julianna cried the entire time, though she promised everyone she was okay," she cocked her head, but her eyes never left his, cold and near unblinking she stared him down. "But we both know that Julianna was never a good liar."
Julianna. The headmaster seemed to use the name deliberately. They both knew of the near privilege it was to call the woman in question by her birth name.
"First, Cain left. Off to college, and once again, she promised everyone she was fine. Then, it was Anita, running away and leaving her alone. Then, the Covenant came. They took everything and ruined your home while she watched." Darcias paused, with a small sigh, finally breaking her unfaltering stare. "We both know Julianna does not do well on her own," she explained, softly. "When she attempted to kill herself, is when Kama and I decided to step in."
Darcias stood, a tower of gauzy blue robes and blonde curls. She looked down at Owen and the small downward curl of her mouth was enough to convey her displeasure. She leaned forward, mimicking his attempt at a threat, wings flaring out behind her as she placed a hand over his; the one still resting upon the weighted bauble. Magic coursed from her hand into his, a pulse of cold that was uncomfortable but not painful. The paperweight beneath their palms was slowly incased in crystalline ice while his hand remained unmarred.
"I have no reason to lie to you Owen," her tone was low, teetering on the edge of impatience. The eye in his hurricane. "All of this means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me."
She kept her hand upon his as the ice began to crack the surface of the glass paperweight. Owen would feel the biting temperature by now. With the other, she pulled open a drawer and produced a small, unmarked box from within it.
Finally, she released his hand, but only to grab him by the wrist and turn his palm upwards. From the box, she dumped three rings into his open hand. An engagement ring and two wedding bands. "I cannot change what I have done," she repeated, a subtle emphasis revealing what she wouldn’t admit before.
A glimmer of possibility if he choose to recognize it.
Straightening, she crossed her arms. "The best I can do is remove your memories of her as well. Honestly, they don't seem to be doing you any favors."
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RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - by saronym - 10-28-2015, 06:11 PM
RE: Fool's Rook [Closed] - by megs - 11-14-2015, 01:06 PM
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