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 Posted: Wed Dec 17, 2014 7:26 pm
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Posted: Wed Dec 17, 2014 7:34 pm
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Posted: Wed Dec 17, 2014 7:38 pm
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Posted: Wed Dec 17, 2014 9:01 pm
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Posted: Sat Jan 03, 2015 12:37 pm
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Posted: Sat Jan 03, 2015 10:03 pm
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Sometimes I feel like I wanna leave this place for good...
Under the ground, I'll live down there without a sound!
And never hear these hissing voices all the same-
I'll disappear, 'cause living makes me feel ashamed.
I must believe there's more above us and below;
I must believe, stranded with this b***h called hope!
It keeps me here when all I wanna do is go;
It keeps me here when all I wanna do is disappear.
 E L E A Z A R
D R A V E N
B R A D L E Y
Ravenclaw │ Fifth Year │ Halfblood │ Adopted
Eleazar was already disoriented from the apparating; combined with the shove his father gave him as he finally let him go, he stumbled and almost fell, but managed to right himself at the last moment. He backed away and looked around. He needed to know where he was if he was ever going to get out of this place, after all, and he'd just gotten here. He was willing to assume they were in Norway. Roald certainly didn't seem overly fond of Britain. Lovely, that just made escaping all that much harder. He didn't even speak the language of the country he was in, or have any idea where any of the wizarding hubs were. They had to be relatively close to one, though... right? Didn't purebloods not like to live near muggles? Unless they were in the middle of nowhere. In that case, he was even more screwed.
He regarded the house elves that appeared curiously, having only ever seen illustrations of them. They were smaller than expected, and he could tell they weren't going to be much help. They were possibly more terrified of his father than he was. So this was the Bjelke home, according to Roald. It seemed like an extremely big place for just one man. Wasn't the whole point of estates like these for large wealthy families to live together? It seemed pretty empty to Eleazar, and because of that the obvious wealth and grandeur surrounding him for the most part passed him by. Just another empty house. Again with the pacing. He wondered if any small way him being here made his father slightly unsure, or nervous. He doubted it, but still. He was so caught up in his own thoughts he realized what spell Roald was casting moments too late. His hand shot out to grab his wand but it was already in his father's grasp. There went another escape route. Well, it wasn't as if he'd have put it to all that good use anyways. So long as it remained intact, maybe he could get it back later. He doubted he'd have been able to effectively curse or hex Roald without the repercussions being much higher than he was willing to deal with. Sure, he had a knack for Transfigurations, but Potions had always been his focus. With his luck any spell he cast would have missed and he'd have paid for it.
He was just going to have to think his way through this mess, he assured himself. He was a Ravenclaw. Just pretend it was a big puzzle. Look for a solution. Take things one step at a time. Don't get too sure of yourself. Have a plan. Listen. He focused on what Roald was actually saying. It'd do him more good than standing here panicking. This was nowhere he knew. London, Diagon, home, he knew those places like the back of his hand. This was entirely foreign to him. Right. Earning everything. He was hardly surprised that was the strategy. Roald was going to make him work his way up for whatever he wanted. Eleazar tried to listen carefully. No wand, no bed, no going anywhere without permission, no speaking without permission. Roald's question seemed to be contradicting that last statement- questions were an open invitation for answers, rhetorical or not. But rhetorical or not, Eleazar still wasn't stupid, so he settled for a nod. He could manage without a bed. He hadn't always been guaranteed one living with his mum, and certainly not after she left. Of course, that'd been a while ago now. He was used to getting decent meals, having clothes that fit him, sleeping on a bed in a room, even if he shared it with his brother. But he'd done it before, and he'd lived.
The pacing resumed and he kept listening. Well, it wasn't like he'd planned on being able to order the house elves around. He'd never ordered anyone around in his life and wouldn't even know how to command a house elf to begin with. Were you supposed to address them in a certain manner? Basically, he had the feeling this was the bit were he was supposed to say "how high" in response to "jump". Beneath everything here. Wow, he was really in for a treat, wasn't he? He was trying very hard not to feel hopeless. He was still for the most part unharmed, though his shoulder was sore. He wasn't in any immediate danger. No one he cared about was in any immediate danger. He hadn't really done anything as of yet to make Roald angry, though he was sure the man would find excuses to assert his authority. People like him always did. He was just going to have to walk as if on ice. He knew Roald, but he only had the vaguest ideas of what set him off or what he really expected. Besides good manners. Probably good posture too. Eleazar decided that for the time being, he was going to have to ditch the slouch and the slumped shoulders his mum had been trying to correct in him for years. "Don't be afraid to look people in the eyes," she always said. "Even if you know you're not going to like what you see."
He looked up, and was glad to find he was so tense his back was already ramrod straight and his shoulders rigid. "Yes... Sir." He assumed a sarcastic "Sure thing, Dad" was not exactly going to be well met right now.
If this is it, all we have and ever will-
If this is it, time is running out and standing still!
I'll leave today, 'cause there's nothing left to keep me here...
I'll fade away; I'll turn my back and disappear.
The city moves: lunges up right from the ground,
The seething Earth, it opens up and spits us out.
This vicious child; nature never wanted us!
This vicious child; a cancer burning black into its heart...
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2016 10:31 pm
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When everything you do
Don't seem to matter.
You try but it's no use
Your world is getting blacker.
 ════════════════════════
Sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ Yᴇᴀʀ || Rᴀᴠᴇɴᴄʟᴀᴡ || Cʜᴀsᴇʀ
════════════════════════
Glynn curled up into himself, trying to block out the sight of the bars to one side of him and what lay beyond. He'd seen her, his only living aunt, being dragged down here by his father, and the screaming that followed after. Apparently she had come to try and help him, and he tried to ignore the fact that his father had decided to show him what was going to happen if he disobeyed. His stomach twisted in on itself as his eyes caught the sight of the fingers scattered on the floor of the cell. There were only two, but the first one had been removed because he hadn't moved fast enough, and the second one soon after because Glynn wouldn't watch. It was like a sick sort of fascination for Roald, and he didn't want to think of what he'd do if Glynn managed to escape. Besides, it wasn't like he had anything in his stomach at the moment. Roald had neglected to feed him, stating that Glynn needed the discipline. Oh sure, he had a wand. He knew he did. However, his father currently had it, deeming that Glynn was not permitted it until he earned it. Apparently he had to earn everything, and that included his own name. It was insane, he knew it was, and Glynn was certain that something was very wrong with his father.
A slight scuffling sound reached his ears, and he glanced over to the side, seeing the once-beautiful features of Frey peek through the bars of her own cell. She had refused to stay silent in the dungeon, and had been beaten for it. Roald had threatened to remove her tongue, and Frey had gone silent, save for those occasional times she had been certain that he wasn't around. Her eyes studied his, and he wanted to scream at her to stop looking at him like that. It was like she knew what was going on in his mind, and she didn't. She couldn't. "I'm so sorry."
"Why?" The word was a hollow whisper, and he looked away from her, not wanting to see what had been done to her hand. How long before Roald decided he was next for that?
"My bror, Roald. He's... he's a monster. It would have been better if he'd never found out about you." He heard a small laugh, and he glanced back through the bars toward her to see her looking at the other corner of her cell, one he knew contained remains. Whose, he didn't know. Roald had never said, but his aunt had broken down when the man had whispered to her about them. Glynn had asked once, but Frey had never said. "He probably should have been killed years ago, or sent to the healers for help, but no one knew."
"Couldn't someone have done something? Didn't your parents protest his actions or try to stop him?" There had to be a reason for all of this. It couldn't be because his father was a complete monster, right? His mum would never have gotten with him otherwise.
Frey laughed again, sounding brittle as she shook her head. "Glynn Llewellyn, meet Agnar Bjelke. Your bestefar, or well, grandfather. I believe he tried." His eyes widened as she gestured to the remains in the corner, and Glynn stared at her again. That was a joke, right? It had to be a joke. "Frida would kill him, you know. Our søster. He's responsible for so much of her heartache. She doesn't know, though." Glynn wrapped his arms tighter around his knees, feeling ill. Was that what was going to happen to him? Just disappear and no one heard from him again? He felt hot tears prickle beneath his lids, and he wondered how he still had any left. "Don't worry. Bjelke women are strong. I can handle whatever he throws at me. You look after yourself." Glynn desperately wanted to believe that, but he didn't know how he could.
════════════════════════
Location: Austratt
Thinking: .....................................
OOC: Ash
I'm running out of time
For me to break this.
I'm tired of feeling like
I'm never gonna make it.
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Posted: Wed Jul 20, 2016 8:48 pm
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When everything you do
Don't seem to matter.
You try but it's no use
Your world is getting blacker.
════════════════════════
Sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ Yᴇᴀʀ || Rᴀᴠᴇɴᴄʟᴀᴡ || Cʜᴀsᴇʀ
════════════════════════
Glynn stared at himself in the mirror, trying and failing to recognize who it was he was looking at. He knew rationally it was him, but he didn't look like himself. He barely recognized the features he could tell was his, but his face was expressionless. He hadn't seen his aunt in weeks, not since his father had caught the two speaking to each other. Since then, he'd been taken out of the dungeon and placed in his own room. An empty thing, barely bigger than a closet. He'd wondered at the time in a delirious daze if his father was going to actually treat him like a human being, but had been proven wrong when the only reason his father had put him there was because it was right above the dungeon room where he could hear the screams of his aunt from the grate in the floor. There was a window, a small tiny thing that barely let in any light, and he quickly learned he couldn't reach it. His father had locked the door, and the only people that he saw come in and out were the house elves, who pretended like he didn't exist.
The last few days had been different. The house elves had come in as usual, but instead of just leaving the daily meal, they had gone about and sized him up. Now he was dressed in clothes that fit better than anything he'd ever worn before, but it felt cheap. Like he was putting on an act. His hand touched the surface of the mirror, and then he retracted it quickly, as though he'd been burned. His father was staring at him in the mirror, and he swallowed thickly. The older man ignored him, deciding to walk forward and look Glynn up and down before nodding in approval. "I see that the clothing fits. That's good. The house elves know their place, it seems. Comfortable, Drittsekk?"
Glynn didn't know if it was a trick question or not, so he just settled for a slight nod. It seemed like the safest option, considering that he knew what would happen if he didn't. More screams from the dungeon. It didn't help that the black of his new school uniform only accentuated how pale he was. He shifted, acutely aware that Roald was scrutinizing him. He bit his lip, trying not to get nervous under the older man's gaze before he couldn't help himself. "S-sir?"
The hand came out of nowhere, and Glynn quickly found himself on the floor, cradling the cheek Roald just struck. He stared up, trying to figure out what he did when Roald decided to speak instead. "I did not give you permission to speak, now did I Drittsekk? Now which hand is you wand hand?"
Glynn hesitated, which was apparently the wrong thing to do. Roald seized the hand holding his cheek and pulled it forward, yanking Glynn around like a rag doll. The boy struggled, and was rewarded with a ringing slap to the face. Glynn sat dazed, not aware for a moment of what was going on before he felt something slip around one of his fingers. When he finally felt awareness return, the ring was glowing briefly with runes in its gem before they faded. When they faded, however, the ring started to shrink to fit around the finger, and then started heating up to the point that he was gasping in pain, feeling as though there was a branding iron where the ring was. It abated after a bit, and Glynn was clutching at his injured hand and started trying to get it off. Only, it wouldn't, and instead heated up again to the point that Glynn was left sobbing by the end of it. "Take it off! Please! O Dduw, mae'n llosgi! Cymerwch 'i off!"
Another hard slap, and Glynn felt like his head was splitting. Then a kick followed to his midsection, causing Glynn to curl up onto the ground as Roald aimed another at him. "I told you to never use that language around me! Do you understand? You also do not speak unless given permission!" He then reached down and grabbed Glynn by the hair to drag him up. Seizing his hand, Gloynn only let out a small whimper as Roald brought the ring up for Glynn to see. "You, however, are fortunate that I am in a giving mood. This ring would have gone to the forbryter, but instead has been passed to you. It allows me to know where you are, and dispense punishments as I see fit. You already know what happens when you attempt to take it off."
"F-forbryter?" Glynn whispered, trying to make sense of what his father had just said. However, Roald looked much too pleased with himself to notice, and instead bade Glynn to clean himself up before he ruined the clothes he was in. When the door clicked shut again, he curled in on himself, staring at his hand. The ring was large, and ugly, and Glynn wished desperately that he could take it off. However, Roald left him wondering who the ring was supposed to go to if not him. Was there another that Glynn didn't know about? Glynn was left to wonder alone until he fell asleep about the implications behind the fact that apparently he might not have been the only one his father had designs for.
════════════════════════
Location: Austratt
Thinking: What did he mean???
OOC: Ash
I'm running out of time
For me to break this.
I'm tired of feeling like
I'm never gonna make it.
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