wendyskies

[wendyskies]

@xkilljxy

[wendyskies]

"how do you feel about that?" wendy asked, because, well honestly, she really wanted to know. or maybe she really didn't. she would probably decide when she actually heard. "and just how exactly should I feel about that too? should I be scared?" she let her eyes stray down to the cuff on her wrist again. if his was mocking a potion, what was her trying to say? "does that for some reason mean I can not change it? or are you just into that sort of thing?"

"Scared? Not particularly. I assume my late wife will be here, somewhere." Because this macabre ball seemed to at least have something to do with regrets and loss, ghosts around every corner, it would be foolish to assume that Harriet wasn't here, somewhere. Sitting, smiling, being warm and cordial with anyone and everyone. A good spirit lingering about the bad ones. "I think the mask is meant to be ironic, love. Wolf. Wolfsbane. It's mocking me."

[wendyskies]

was it worse this way? wendy wondered. was it worse when it was your own parents or to be abandoned to strangers instead? it was probably one of those things that could never be weighed properly. the only thing that say heavy and certain was the weight of knowing the people who were supposed to love and protect you, didn't. her eyes lingered on the man that obviously had to be antonin's father. fuck him. fuck all of them. her hand tightened around ant's, and wendy positioned herself between him and the ghost as another book hurled into her shoulder blade.

they could protect each other, at least that is what wren always said, and it would matter more because they chose to. well, wendy hadn't done much protecting back then. she had been far too scared, too unstable, too weak, but now... now she didn't feel quite so frayed. her footing had long been stable enough to start climbing, and wendy had. she knew what she wanted, and certainly all the sorts of people she wanted to avoid. "about as real as one of those portraits that can talk to you. I think these ghosts are just a little off from your run of the mill variety too." she explained and pointed towards the library doors.

would she have stopped to help someone that wasn't a friend of damocles? probably not. so it felt a bit odd to not tell him about it, but at the same time, wendy understood that desire for this specific kind of privacy. these sort of things could not easily be explained with words. "I can keep a secret." she promised and began the process of smoothing antonin's hair back down with her hands. "or I can lie. whatever. just tell me what you want me to say." wendy moved on to straightening his shirt and smoothing out the shoulders. "and pinch your bottom lip to bring some color back into it. it will make you look less flustered."

antonin attempted to take a few steadying breaths but failed, over and over again, pressing himself against the wall as though he could disappear into it, while his fingers clawed anxiously at the fading wallpaper. the wild man in front of him couldn't possibly be his father -- he had seen to that personally -- but his movements, his snarling insults, those eyes, were too real. they threw antonin back to a time when he had no control; attempting to keep his father's rage from the twins and watching his mother turn away, too scared of the man she married to protect her children.

he almost didn't hear wendy enter. and her words registered several seconds after they had left her lips. blinking wildly at the offered hand as it came into view, he felt himself sway on the spot, sudden waves of shame and of self-loathing rising up within him. for being a mess. for being a coward. for being caught. "ghosts are real." the words weren't more than a whisper, a defiant sneer against the undeniable need for help, before he took the offered hand anyway. he allowed himself to be guided away from the raging ghost of his father, because he could not do it on his own and he knew, logically, somewhere deep within, he needed to leave.

his knees gave out the moment his father was removed from his line of sight, and he slid down the wall in front of her, trying to get a grip on the reality around him. "don't tell them." he ran his hands through his usually immaculate hair, messing it up in way not usually seen outside of the bedroom. right then and there he wanted to cut it off. he hated the resemblance. "damocles, winnie, walden - especially walden. they can't know about this." because antonin was supposed to be the tough one. unshakeable. unemotional. willing to do the worst of things, so his friends didn't need too. he almost choked as he added, "please."

[wendyskies]

where; outside the servants quarters with; open

excellent. great. wonderful. awesome. wendy did not know what exactly she was feeling. it was too loud, too much; like the emotional equivalent of radio static dialed up past ten. the past was supposed to remain there and the dead in the dirt. a bit like a toddler in a tantrum, although absolutely silent, she pulled off her heel and hurled it at the ghost's head. "I want to leave."

[wendyskies]

"are you scared of seeing anybody?" wendy reached up and tugged experimentally on his mask, but his whole face pulled along with it. "hm." she pouted, then tried to slide a finger up underneath the edge of it. "oh!" that worked. so strictly speaking, the masks were not technically adhered to the skin. "I could try to just transmute it into a different shape, maybe one that does not block your nose and mouth so very much." wendy wasn't sure she would mind the mask all that much if it wasn't so damn heavy and weighing her down. "I tried to change mine, but I could not get it to work. although shape is very different from matter."

Dam chose to remain quiet at her biting admission, allowing the moment to simply exist, as it was. He didn't feel the need to add to it, though he did squeeze her hand lightly, a small gesture of support as he rested back agains the door. His body sagged with the weight of the evening already, and he wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep off whatever this nightmare was. He pulled her closer, wrapped an arm around her waist securely to keep her there. "I don't think so. Not yet. But I'm not counting it out. It is good to know that the library will likely hold something distasteful. I would really rather just get this mask off. Hard to breathe, as I'm sure you can imagine. I don't care for the idea of suffocating."

[wendyskies]

wendy reached out and took the hand damocles offered. she only hesitated for the briefest of moments when another glimpse of that solid manacle locked to her wrist distracted her. the weight of it grated at some primal part of her that she tried to suppress and ignore, but still brilliantly forced a smile onto her face anyway. he was going to know right away that wendy was on full guard. "oh, I do not think by any stretch of the imagination that I will see any ghosts of mine. none of them bothered to stick around for just the most minimum amount of closure anyway. so why would they care to come back now?" the words were so bitingly, and uncharacteristically, honest that it seemed contradictory to the charismatic and breezy tone of voice. even her former husband made a run for it before being hunted down. wendy leaned forward and nuzzled her nose against the muzzle of dam's mask. "even if just one happens to make an appearance, I have pretty strong reasons to never linger in the past." she shrugged and sank with exhaustion into the security of his presence. "have you? I mean, have you seen any that you know?"

Dam had been fully prepared to be alone for a moment, so the startle of the loud thud somewhere near the window made him jump, though he would be loathe to admit it if ever asked, even under direct torture. His eyes swivelled toward the sound, though the mask obscuring his face made it hard to do without instead turning his head fully. His elbow slammed backwards against the door he still pressed against, and he called out through it. "Library." Before his attention turned back to Wendy and though he wanted to offer her a smile, the maw of this ridiculous mask made it impossible. "Possibly, though I would argue that no one gets off easy with Winnie. Lots of knives involved." He pushed away from his perch finally and moved toward her, extending a hand. "Have you seen any ghosts of Wendy's past?"

[wendyskies]

wendy placed a hand over her mouth and her nose to muffle the sounds of breathing as a wolf masked individual forced their way into the room. her knuckles tightened around the candlestick. it was easy. if they looked her way, she would brain them and run out of the room. she could do it. at least that was what wendy was desperately trying to convince herself of when he spoke. enes and antonin and definitely winnie... the relief was so unexpected that she accidentally released the makeshift weapon which thudded dangerously close to her toes. "if you could maybe direct her attention towards the library instead, there is definitely someone, or something, there that would keep her interest, and I just have a sneaking little suspicious that antonin would appreciate it a lot more than sending her to find him at this exact moment." she stepped out of her hiding spot somewhat sheepishly and with decidedly less graceful movements than usual. it was obvious how physically exhausted she already seemed. "and if she is the only one that is currently haunting you, I think you may have gotten off a little bit easy this time."

The place had grown more and more taxing by the minute. Everything around them was shifting and moving so rapidly it was a wonder they weren't all suffering from whiplash by now, and Damocles had no intention of continuing to play the game without first finding a place where he could stop and try to find something to ground him. He pulled away from Winnie as he shoved open another doorway, waving her off. "I'll catch up with you later, I just want a minute to myself. Go... solve a puzzle or find Enes or Antonin or something." He slammed the door shut again quickly before she could respond, pressing his back and the bulk of his weight against it and blowing out a long breath from under the sculpted wolf mask. It was a sick sort of irony, really, the mask. "Fucking nightmare. No wonder I don't have a ghost running around, I've got her."

[wendyskies]

where; haunted mansion with; damocles || @xkilljxy

"last year's haunted house was a lot more fun." wendy whined to herself as she scurried through the corridor of the labyrinthine mansion. it was a rather bold statement considering last year she had a panic attack in the middle of it, but still. at least the scary parts were obvious, and at least there had been someone with her then. seeing abusive ghosts had frayed the very limit of her nerves. was that why she was talking to herself again? this was just like the stupid orphanage. every step she took felt heavy and unbalanced by this costume. "I looked cuter last year too."

wendy pouted. she wanted to find wren or barty or peter. she wanted to find mina and georgie. where the hell was damocles? who else should she be scared was waiting around the corner for her? from out of sight, the sound of some sort of scuffle startled her. wendy paused. she glanced around for the best place to hide, then snatched a silver candlestick from the table and tucked herself in a corner half obscured by a curtain and a plant to wait and see what happened next before reacting.

[wendyskies]

after wendy had finally given up on the multifaceted attempts to transmute her gown into gold or the shackles on her wrist to gone, she started to scour the mansion for another person, and a living person at that. there was one in particular she was looking for but no matter what, she had absolutely no interest in revisiting the ghosts of her past. the irritated alchemist grit her teeth and began to climb the stairs in relative silence. as she scurried past a room on what should have been the third floor, a familiar voice caught her attention. the door did not creak as it pulled open.

wendy was met with the smell of parchment, leather, ink, and musk. it was a library. she frowned. damocles's friend antonin stood, unmistakable despite the mask, at the end of a grandiose bookshelf. his shoulders were tense and lifted and it looked like the rise of fall of his chest was unsteady and uneven. she recognized that look. a book flew past his head. she gasped. a ghost at the other end of the row was cursing and screaming. somehow it was throwing books and furniture about like a poltergeist. "you are right, antonin." she said clearly between deep and purposeful breathing and offered a hand out to him from where she was still mostly hidden behind the shelf. "that is just a ghost."

at: masquerade, library with: @wendyskies

at any other time, waking up in an unfamiliar location, decorated lavishly for an occasion he must have forgotten about, and wearing a mask that he couldn't take down from his face, would have been a great start to a long night. and it had been, while he had still been in one of the oddly decadent bedrooms, admiring his reflection and begrudgingly, the work it must have taken the individual, whomever they might be, to pull off such an impressive feat. his mind however had changed the moment he had gone to explore the house, stumbled into what had looked like a library and found himself frozen there. it had been years since he had seen those eyes, strikingly similar to his own, staring back at him; eyes filled with rage and disgust towards a family he created, towards a son he had loathed.

and he shrank.

he was ten years old once more, cornered by the man he had been made to call father, trapped without escape, forced to watch as his nightmare threw object after object, insult after insult, not a single one of them landing physically, but he flinched all the same. "you're not real." he muttered, attempting to tug the mask from his face, though it was pointless. it didn't budge. "you can't be."

[wendyskies]

balance.

[wendyskies]

wendy's brow wrinkled. the realization suddenly dawned on her that she did not know for certain if he understood what the word 'literally' actually meant. nor 'survive' since one third of the black sisters, the third which had been her friend, had not done that. she suspected that walden, much like wren, might assert his own definitions when needed. she rolled her eyes. "I really do not like taking away any sort of choice from a poor creature that already does not have a voice. so I would sooner just test on someone that I simply do not like than an animal. there are a lot of people who deserve it more."

it took a few moments to arrange everything in the proper arrangement around her transmutation circle, including plucking a strand of her own hair to lay over it. "the first rule of alchemy: you cannot gain something without giving something equal in return. it is called equivalent exchange. it is a chemical, physical, and magical equation, and you can not cheat the balance, okay? now I just need you to put your hands in the center of the circle and do not move them. this may sting a bit... or a lot." wendy unscrewed the lid of the bottle and took a sip, then poured some over his hands for sterilization. "that is part of the price." she proceeded to prick her finger on a waiting ice pick until a few droplets of blood pooled so that she could drop it into the mix.

she pressed the tip of her wand into the outer circumference of the complicated circle. it began to glow the soft blue aura of magic. steam rose from the open wounds on his hands as the salt whirled grain by grain into them. the edges blackened as ash puffed into a cloud that settled over each laceration and healed them into dark scabs. hair sutured the skin and the proteins began to knit together. soft, new flesh grew back in uneven patches until no one would be the wiser anything had happened at all, except for the bruising. there was not much she could do about the bruising aside from makeup.

"Literally sure, but it's not the same. That's fire with a purpose. You start that fire because you need it. When Dam works, when he's all up in his head about it, there's usually at least one fire he didn't need." Sometimes it was because Walden set it, just to try and get Dam's attention. But that was well besides the point.

He hissed as the water washed over his hands, stinging the cuts and scrapes even as it cleaned them. The aftermath was almost worse than the act of it. Cleaning never had the same zing of relief that went with violence. "Alright, fine, no mice. I do have plenty of pigeons, I'm sure I could part with a few of the less precious ones."

Walden watched her gather the supplies with a vague, bemused sort of curiosity. Had Dam mentioned that Wendy preferred this version of magic? Walden couldn't recall. No matter, he'd never gotten a chance to see anything like this before. "Sadness runs in that family. But it's women are strong. They survive."

[wendyskies]

"it literally is. I mean, that is, by definition, on fire. otherwise it is just combustion." walden was about to learn that winning a word game with wendy thenardier was much harder than one might think. they were her weapon of choice. "the difference of which is quantifiable mathematically. any alchemist could prove it." her golden tongue was afterall precisely the tool of her life's transfiguration. "what if I just asked for one of your little birdies instead?" she snipped sharply and crossed her arms further. "I do not test on mice."

while walden went through his story, it seemed that he was largely ignoring her instruction and between trying to finish her transmutation circle and considering what they had available, wendy took his wrist and pushed his clenched hands under the warm running water of the sink. "oh, that is very sad." parents always seemed complicated. maybe it was better that hers never really stuck around.

she made the last few marks on the circle and then started to grab salt, ice, and a really nice looking bottle of gin from behind the bar. "we got brunch a few times. she had just the best hair." and she served to stoke that rage wendy felt against muggles, whispering often about joining the death eater ranks. besides, it looked good to have a friend with the black name. "sad stories seem to run in that family."

"That's fire with a purpose. It's not on fire, persay." Yeah it was pedantic but he was Damocles' friend for a reason. He could get nitpicky, too. "Amazing. If I could you some mice, could we practice on them? I want to think statue thoughts."

Did statues have thoughts? That would definitely make Hogwarts more interesting. Maybe they could sneak back in the castle somehow and Wendy could interview the statues there. It was easier thinking of this than focusing on the pain in his hands as he washed them, and so much better than thinking about what happened with Narcissa.

"It's hard for me to talk about without losing my temper." He said, both as a statement and as an apology. "Just know that I'm not mad at you, yeah? And I'd never hurt you."

His hands had begun shaking and he could feel the heat rising under his skin. "Her fucking parents. Put her under the Imperius curse, trapped her in her own head. She was," he swallowed against the urge to break something as his finger nails bit into his palms, "She was like a vacant little doll."

Walden made himself refocus. He stood still and recited Thoreau under his breath, switching between Spanish and English. It took several minutes to get himself back under control. "You knew Bella?"

[wendyskies]

oh, she liked that smile. wendy held onto damocles very tightly until he rested her back onto the flat surface of the desk. "you only think that is the best view because you do not know all of your options." with one hand, she pressed into the center of his chest and pushed him back. then held up a single index finger as if to clearly say 'wait'. she untied the belt of her coat with the other hand and let it fall loose from her waist. "I promise I can show you a better one." wendy always had fun with the little cat and mouse games. she rolled up onto her knees, turning to face away from him. she slipped the rest of the coat off and tossed it away. "I am so very fond of that coat." she glanced back at him over her shoulder. "but you can always buy me a new dress."

wendyskies​:

-

a little shiver ran up wendy’s spine. the skin raised along the nerves of her neck in every spot he touched. it seemed fairly obvious she didn’t want him to think of her as some gold digger anymore, but even when she had; he didn’t. still, a lot of little inconveniences for them could probably remain moot so long as everyone else believed she was. “oh?” wendy turned to comfortably straddle damocles in the chair. “as I said, we do not need to leave until tomorrow morning. so we have all night long to just …experiment, if you would like to get hands on experience.” there was almost a challenge in the batting of her brown eyes. she whispered into his ear. “I have seen paris from every single angle, and the very best view of the city will never be from a penthouse. I think I prefer the villa with a tub big enough for two.”

...

“Experiment is my favorite word.” The grin that tugged at Dam’s face was sharp and almost menacing as he nips at skin, finding soft little places to drag sharp teeth in a graze, hoping to leave little stinging marks. Reminders. Memories. And also bright shining symbols to anyone who might be looking. He moved his hands again, this time to rest under her thighs and tug, a silent gesture to have her tighten the grip of her legs as he stood and moved her onto the desktop, knocking things off in a startling cacophany of noise. “I dunno, I think the best view I could ever get of the city would be out the penthouse window while I have you pressed against it for all of Paris to see, but then, I’ve always loved a good view.” He pulled back to watch her face for a moment before he dove back into her neck. “How fond are you of what you’re wearing right now? For research purposes.”

[wendyskies]

"is there not a fire under the cauldron all the time?" frankly, the mansion smelled like there was a fire somewhere all the time. every inhabitant seemed fond of it, including those circling the skies outside. "yes, I could really." she seemed to contemplate her answer. "and theoretically I could turn you back, but it would be complicated and there is no guarantee that you would be living still. I have not experimented with it yet."

she crossed the threshold and ushered walden towards the bar, stopping only to pluck a few charred, used matches from near a tray of melted candles among other things. charcoal was easier on skin than a quill and ink. "wash with soap and hot water and sit down. I need just a second." she murmured, trying to balance the right chemical equation quickly in her head.

"oh narcissa black. actually malfoy now, is it not? bellatrix talked about her a some." wendy forgot that was what people close called her since she didn't seem the type for cutesy little names. "how did you almost lose her?"

wendyskies​:

“he is working right now.” wendy said which both functioned as the truth, technically speaking, but did not say what she actually wanted, which was, of course, yes. a bit of a schrödinger’s answer, really. her eyes lingered on walden’s injured hands and frowned. “it better just stick to the trees, because if you ever lay hands like that on dam, I can turn you into a statue for all your little birds to shit on.” the barb was fast and pointed, because realistically, she knew that it was a rib between friends, but a part of her mind remained lingering on that earlier fear and the trauma which sprang to mind.

“now come on.” wendy turned around and gestured for him to follow her. “we should go inside to the bar.” she started to walk back toward the haunted house on the hill with both arms wrapped protectively around her torso. “I can fix them up, but we need to wash them off first so it does not get infected or anything.” she offered and then asked. “who is cissy?”

--

“If nothing’s on fire he’s probably not really working.” Walden said, glancing at the house. “Or at least he’s not in the zone unless something’s on fire.” His interest piqued at her threat and he relaxed fully. “A statue, could you really? Bloody brilliant. Could you turn me back to normal afterwards? Bet if you could turn me back to normal afterwards Antonin wouldn’t throttle me for trying it out.”

He followed her readily, falling in a few steps away so she could easily get out of his reach if she wanted. Walden wouldn’t hurt her, but he didn’t want to crowd her until she felt comfortable either. Not when she was so clearly sticking around. He didn’t doubt she was, either. Everything Dam said about her (wouldn’t shut up about her) finally formed into the complete person in his mind now. They fit together, his friend and this woman.

“Thank you. As cute as Antonin is when he fusses, I don’t actually enjoy worrying him. Cissy, Narcissa, she’s,” he paused for a moment to try and quantify what Narcissa meant to him, to all of them, “She’s easier to experience than she is to explain. She’s my oldest friend. Even before I knew fusspants up there,” Walden nodded towards the house, “I knew Cissy. I almost lost her earlier this year, and I nearly went mad. Losing Damocles… he’s not allowed to die on me. He’s just— he’s not.”

--

[wendyskies]

notwaldenpond​

Walden watched her with anxious concern. She seemed a bit better now. There wasn’t as much tension in the air at least. “Do you want me to go get Dam?”

“Ah.” His ears went pink. Antonin would fuss if he went home with his hands looking like this. “It’s uh, a little more what happened to the trees? Cissy will scold me for it, probably. The trees aren’t the ones being stubborn and idiotic. But punching trees seemed more productive than trying to strangle sense into Damocles so.” He shrugged.

–

“he is working right now.” wendy said which both functioned as the truth, technically speaking, but did not say what she actually wanted, which was, of course, yes. a bit of a schrödinger's answer, really. her eyes lingered on walden’s injured hands and frowned. “it better just stick to the trees, because if you ever lay hands like that on dam, I can turn you into a statue for all your little birds to shit on.” the barb was fast and pointed, because realistically, she knew that it was a rib between friends, but a part of her mind remained lingering on that earlier fear and the trauma which sprang to mind.

“now come on.” wendy turned around and gestured for him to follow her. “we should go inside to the bar.” she started to walk back toward the haunted house on the hill with both arms wrapped protectively around her torso. “I can fix them up, but we need to wash them off first so it does not get infected or anything.” she offered and then asked. “who is cissy?”

[wendyskies]

xkilljxy​

“You certainly do.” His grin was a bit more wicked as he brushed his lips along her jaw, reaching a hand up to pull her hair away and to the side, exposing neck and allowing him freedom to taste the skin there, too. The other hand rested on her hip, and he tightened his grip there a bit as she continued to speak. “I would like to do more research on your actual level of pliability, personally. I don’t believe you to be disloyal, though flighty seems like a bit of a foregone conclusion, at this point. That last one, though.” As he spoke, he continued to pepper soft kisses against the skin of her neck and what he could reach of her shoulder. Dragging his nose up and along the column of her throat, he chuckled softly. “The biggest bathtub is in the villa, one of those soakers with the jets. I suppose I prefer the villa because there is more space to work in it, but the penthouse has a better view, so it’s a matter of which you prefer. Big tub, or stunning view of the city.”

-

a little shiver ran up wendy’s spine. the skin raised along the nerves of her neck in every spot he touched. it seemed fairly obvious she didn’t want him to think of her as some gold digger anymore, but even when she had; he didn’t. still, a lot of little inconveniences for them could probably remain moot so long as everyone else believed she was. “oh?” wendy turned to comfortably straddle damocles in the chair. “as I said, we do not need to leave until tomorrow morning. so we have all night long to just ...experiment, if you would like to get hands on experience.” there was almost a challenge in the batting of her brown eyes. she whispered into his ear. “I have seen paris from every single angle, and the very best view of the city will never be from a penthouse. I think I prefer the villa with a tub big enough for two.”

[wendyskies]

xkilljxy​

Despite listening intently to her little demonstration, Dam felt himself physically relaxing each part of himself that she grazed over, tension melting out of him like she was casting a spell. He had always been a tense, uptight man, but Wendy was dangerous for that image, sinking into him and easing something in him that even his first marriage had never quite gotten rid of. Wendy was cunning and something about that excited him. His icy showers were far more interesting lately, as well, and he didn’t want to think too hard about it while she was sitting on his lap. The tension in him shifted from anger to something else entirely and he quickly shook his head a little. “So lies by omission, rather than outright statements of untruth. No wonder you’re one of the best little con artists in London.” His grin was devilish as he leaned forward to capture her lips in a brief but searing kiss, pulling back with a chuckle at her pout. “Wendy suits you fine. I’m more curious about how attached you are to the surname, but that doesn’t have to be a conversation for now.” He shrugged, casually as anything, as he nodded once, feeling an unfamiliar thrill at the way her face lit up. I’ve pleased her… And that feeling lingered somewhere deep in his chest. “I have property there, we can stay at the villa or at the penthouse. Do you have a preference?”

-

“london, paris, bulgaria...” wendy listed while feeling an unexpected relief from finally admitting the less shiny aspects of her past. there was a weightlessness about it. it almost scared her. “I have range.” she smirked and leaned into his kiss. “besides I have already planted the idea that I am flighty, disloyal, and pliable to him so the less he gets from you, the more he may try to get out of me.” and she, unlike her romantic counterpart, knew exactly how to manipulate each and every word. they could play into each of their skills. “surname? I have changed it three times so-” wendy paused realizing the implication of the statement as damocles breezed passed it; which she let him, if only because she did not actually know how to process that idea herself. “huh.” she continued to smile. “both sound pretty nice considering my alternative was a cot in a house that smells 500 years old. which do you like more? which one has the biggest bathtub?”