(no subject)
WHO? Abraxas Malfoy
WHAT? Talk about something you lost
WHEN? A lifetime ago.
WHY? He's Abraxas Malfoy and he doesn't have to justify himself to you.
I will never understand this modern obsession with mewling and puking over one another. It's reminiscent of children who have done something wrong who rush in and confess to the deed in hopes of a lesser punishment. But unlike children--their adult counterparts receive no rewards for their confessions.
What precisely is gained from tirelessly recounting our losses? Surely it doesn't ease the pain associated with the loss--because I can assure you there is no force on earth that can recapture what has been lost.
...no. Strike that. It's possible to regain what you've lost. That moment when you hold what is most precious to you in your arms once again is--bliss. It defies the telling of it. There can be no greater joy than having what was lost returned to you. No greater determination than the determination to keep it safe forevermore in the future...and no greater sorrow than knowing you have failed to do so.
...his hands automatically reached into the stroller even as his mind was processing the fact his son was not there. He'd been speaking to an old friend for a moment--it was just a moment--Lucius had been sleeping in the stroller while Abraxas made plans to see Robert Goyle next week.
No more than five minutes. That was all. Five minutes and his son was gone...
Have you ever measured time in ten second intervals?
Ten seconds was approximately the time it took to draw each breath through the heaviness in my chest down to my very soul.
Ten seconds of observing the second hand sweep the face of my pocket watch until it felt perilously close to madness.
Ten seconds was longer than I could meet my wife's gaze.
For the three days I was crushed by time.
...as quickly as it began is was finished.Lucius was watching him through cool, wide blue eyes as he stripped off his gloves and with tremling hands lifted him from the makeshift crib in the center of the office. Alive and whole... his son was alive. His hands combed over Lucius' white-blond hair repeatedly as he carried the boy from the warehouse he'd been secreted away in. When they reached the main room, Abraxas tucked his son's face against his shoulder by cradling the back of his head with his palm. There was no reason for Lucius to see just how far a father would go for his son. As he stepped over the mutilated bodies of his son's kidnappers, Abraxas hummed under his breath...
Lost and found.
My son was restored to me and I resolved to never lose him again.
I never did.
Until the night, twenty years later.
...they'd been discussing an ancient text written by a distant descendant when Abraxas noticed the sudden set of his son's jaw, the squaring of his shoulders and the flicker of something akin to fear in his eyes. That was when he caught a glimpse of dark sludge moving beneath his son's skin. Before Abraxas could open his mouth Lucius apparated out of the house.
Once more, in a matter of minutes my son was gone.
That's not strictly true. Lucius did not disappear in minutes. It took hours, days, weeks, months. Only there was no returning him.
In a perfect act of symbiosis--my son took the Mark and the Mark took my son.
OOC: Braxas isn't in TM but YOU try telling him he can't do as he damn well pleases. Go on. I'll wait.
WHAT? Talk about something you lost
WHEN? A lifetime ago.
WHY? He's Abraxas Malfoy and he doesn't have to justify himself to you.
I will never understand this modern obsession with mewling and puking over one another. It's reminiscent of children who have done something wrong who rush in and confess to the deed in hopes of a lesser punishment. But unlike children--their adult counterparts receive no rewards for their confessions.
What precisely is gained from tirelessly recounting our losses? Surely it doesn't ease the pain associated with the loss--because I can assure you there is no force on earth that can recapture what has been lost.
...no. Strike that. It's possible to regain what you've lost. That moment when you hold what is most precious to you in your arms once again is--bliss. It defies the telling of it. There can be no greater joy than having what was lost returned to you. No greater determination than the determination to keep it safe forevermore in the future...and no greater sorrow than knowing you have failed to do so.
...his hands automatically reached into the stroller even as his mind was processing the fact his son was not there. He'd been speaking to an old friend for a moment--it was just a moment--Lucius had been sleeping in the stroller while Abraxas made plans to see Robert Goyle next week.
No more than five minutes. That was all. Five minutes and his son was gone...
Have you ever measured time in ten second intervals?
Ten seconds was approximately the time it took to draw each breath through the heaviness in my chest down to my very soul.
Ten seconds of observing the second hand sweep the face of my pocket watch until it felt perilously close to madness.
Ten seconds was longer than I could meet my wife's gaze.
For the three days I was crushed by time.
...as quickly as it began is was finished.Lucius was watching him through cool, wide blue eyes as he stripped off his gloves and with tremling hands lifted him from the makeshift crib in the center of the office. Alive and whole... his son was alive. His hands combed over Lucius' white-blond hair repeatedly as he carried the boy from the warehouse he'd been secreted away in. When they reached the main room, Abraxas tucked his son's face against his shoulder by cradling the back of his head with his palm. There was no reason for Lucius to see just how far a father would go for his son. As he stepped over the mutilated bodies of his son's kidnappers, Abraxas hummed under his breath...
Lost and found.
My son was restored to me and I resolved to never lose him again.
I never did.
Until the night, twenty years later.
...they'd been discussing an ancient text written by a distant descendant when Abraxas noticed the sudden set of his son's jaw, the squaring of his shoulders and the flicker of something akin to fear in his eyes. That was when he caught a glimpse of dark sludge moving beneath his son's skin. Before Abraxas could open his mouth Lucius apparated out of the house.
Once more, in a matter of minutes my son was gone.
That's not strictly true. Lucius did not disappear in minutes. It took hours, days, weeks, months. Only there was no returning him.
In a perfect act of symbiosis--my son took the Mark and the Mark took my son.
OOC: Braxas isn't in TM but YOU try telling him he can't do as he damn well pleases. Go on. I'll wait.