Comments | fiery_inception: A kiss, cold as a November rain, kiss of a traitor, cold as a snake-skin

morsus_et_mors in fiery_inception

A kiss, cold as a November rain, kiss of a traitor, cold as a snake-skin

Jul 07, 2006 21:46

Date: Friday, 7 July 2000
Time: Late afternoon
Location: Cobalt Viriconium antique records shoppe, Muggle London
Characters Involved: Montague Morsus and OPEN (Please, ask before joining)
Status: Incomplete
Rating: PG-13 at the very least

( She shuddered in disgust, necrophiliac, necrophiliac! The lilies of her spirits high withered, disappearing into Lethe, leaving a faint scent of their sprinkling colour )

status: complete, status: open, character: terry boot, status: invitation only, character: montague morsus, location: muggle london

Comments 32

terry_schtiwl July 7 2006, 17:19:28 UTC

Feeling almost stir-crazy after spending the entire day in the Hopping & Aperture darkroom, Terry found himself, rather indolent, thumbing through dusty records at a- well, what do you know?- a record shop after work. (Cobalt Viriconium, to be exact ( ... )

morsus_et_mors July 8 2006, 02:20:21 UTC

Wagner - he liked Wagner, the demonic wailings of his violins and cellos, the forthcoming of pending doom, the inevitability of death. Invictus, Homo Invictus, even he would fall someday to the sound of Wagner's prophetic notes, as they heralded the universal annihilation. Montague knew that. It was merely a matter of time (merely a matter of time). And he was there to blaze the trail, a loyal vassal of Darkness - he had the title of an Earl, and in his hands were the fate-threads of millions of people.

What a sublime feeling.

There, there, along with Weber and Verdi, was the much lusted record, and Montague took it in his hands, wishing it would be the Der Ring des Nibelungen - his total artwork, the Gesamtkunstwerk of Romanticism. What was it with Montague and Romanticism? Sometimes he liked to think that Romanticism was merely a mockery of his fall, the spiraling down into depths of madness and evil. To some, it would seem he repented. And only to the very few it would be known - he relished the lack of light ( ... )

terry_schtiwl July 8 2006, 08:03:34 UTC

What're you waiting for? Go! Before he sees you!

Barely able to lift his feet from the floor, Terry took two, very hesitant steps backwards; nearly having a run-in with the racks and bins of records behind him. His feet, he noted rather distractedly, had seemingly, not to mention, suddenly gained a hundred pounds each and refused to be budged.

But, Terry reasoned with himself in an attempt to calm his rapid heart and ragged breath, at least Montague hadn't seen him...

Yet.Perhaps it would be prudent, Terry thought hurriedly, to merely stay back in the dusty shadows while the other man browsed. Perhaps he wouldn't be found out- ... perhaps, being idealistic was stupid ( ... )

morsus_et_mors July 9 2006, 17:43:31 UTC

What an adorable piece of meat. Montague felt a sudden urge for a laughter - liberating and relaxing, as it promised to unhinge the last remnants of order there were still to be found, in the room full of records and one nervous Jewish Ravenclaw ( ... )

Thread 17

morsus_et_mors July 14 2006, 17:47:28 UTC

"Does the spider bother you?" Montague asked, voice barely containing the mocking laughter. Terry was most obviously frightened - although of what, Montague was not completely sure. The spider? But it was Impedimenta-ed and was not exactly two centimetres long - all simple magic, of course. Must have been something else.

Then again - nothing surprising. The boy was a container of all sorts of mental insecurities, clearly.

"You are bothered," Montague said after a few seconds filled with silence - only the small drops of Terry's cigarette ashes making a 'banging' sound against the floor.

It was interesting - watching the other man tremble, very imperceptibly, eyes closed, with random twitches of his limbs disturbing the peace of the moment. Should he let the boy suffer a bit more or release him now? Play or no play? Such an interesting choice. Did Montague feel like a Muggle Messiah or more like their Lucifer? (Such an interesting notion, that.)

It said - in every deed there is an element of play, and there was a firework of ( ... )

terry_schtiwl July 15 2006, 01:11:44 UTC

Terry, figuring the answer to Montague's question was fairly blatant, said nothing. Instead, he merely bit the inside of his cheek, focusing on the unsettling fact that Blitz was being quiet. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the silence- no, it was nice- but such long leaves from the usually constant chatter left him feeling uneasy and jumpy ( ... )

morsus_et_mors July 17 2006, 10:22:24 UTC

"You could try," Montague's voice echoed Terry's words, adding its own idiosyncratic modulations to distort the words beyond their initial meaning. They sounded like a question now, like a threat - like a final threat in an asking voice, with just that smallest nuance of curiosity, detached like the spider's legs from its head - for ever and ever ( ... )

terry_schtiwl July 17 2006, 11:17:43 UTC

Watching the tides turn in Montague's eyes, Terry said nothing for a moment. He merely blinked as the man repeated his words; his left eye twitching annoyingly. Certainly, Montague had his own force of gravity, he reasoned. There was no other explanation Terry could come up with as to why he'd allow himself so close to the man; -or rather, as to why he'd let the man come so close to him.

With eyes slightly unfocused, Terry listened to the heated words that Montague spoke. Madness and Horror. And, as per usual, the boy reacted only with slowly dilating pupils and a look of worry. -Adding in a little eye-widening at the man's finishing words and action- never a kiss. A touch ( ... )

Thread 13

terry_schtiwl July 26 2006, 07:19:14 UTC

Terry looked at the employee girl a long moment, only smiling as he began to take backwards steps toward the front doors. "Sorry," he said softly, sounding only semi-apologetic, before turning and making his way outside, hands inside of his sleeves to push the door open.

The boy stopped abruptly in front of Montague as the man began to speak. Terry bit his lip distractedly; in a vain attempt to pull his thoughts back together- eyes, out of habit, dropping to the (filthy, disgusting, dirty, cracked, stained, discoloured) ground. "I-…"

He paused, his worried expression clearing- a blank one taking its place. "Yes."

morsus_et_mors July 29 2006, 18:18:18 UTC

"Good." Montague nodded and leaned down to look deep into the other's eyes - through those thick eyeglasses that he despised, and yet liked, as they magnified the blue swirls behind. Making them larger than life. Ah, so this was where he could use the phrase.

Wasn't this reminiscent of something from the past? A feeling of deja-vu, that strange sensation of - bullshit, this has happened before, rewind! - creeped over the taller man. He never liked deja-vus. They only meant one thing--

Repetition.

Life had to be new with every new day. (And yet, it kept on plaguing him with the same nightmares. Still, still.)

"Good," he repeated, before smiling - for the briefest of seconds! - and turning around to walk away from the boy. There he was again, adopting that decisive stride of his, the monumental tribute to the unredeemably lost. Lost and masochistically happy about it. It's with that final victorious smirk that martyrs went down.