It's not what you think - Closed

[Tobias Leberecht]

SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD
• to believe there's someone else who could be •
JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME

The expertly steady hands could have only belonged to Tobias, for all of his faults and awkward tendencies, this he was good at. This he was expert at. A large cauldron sat poised in the middle of the floor, with his only about a foot or so away from the flames that headed the bottom of it. Cast iron swizzle stick clinging to the side of the large pot. Tried and true, the smells wafting from the slow boiling mixture was one that he wasn't sure how to put a name to, he wasn't certain if it was like anything else he had ever smelled before in his life. Yet, that was the point, as he was in the process of making something that had never before been perfected. He had no idea if it was going to work, but with each mistake, he learned a little something new. On the desks closest to him were raw ingredients, pieces of silver jewelry placed about, mixed with the rest. Smaller, test vials were in racks under the desks, the more valuable of the things he had, the things he couldn't easily replace were underneath the counters. He couldn't risk them falling off. Behind him, in a pain yellow box were four equal amounts of a paler green fluid. The sort that he had spent the last month preparing for the newest wolf in the castle. They were still operating under the radar, so she couldn't get her potions from Professor Talbott, not that he minded. It was a simple enough of a thing to make. He liked to think that his was just a little bit better anyway, he used cocoa powder to cut the acid. At least it would help keep her in check. It was just about the only thing that she was allowing any of them. Since the morning after she had been turned, whenever she had woken up and found him sitting at the edge of her bed, silently making a sketch of her side for his journal, she had almost bitten his head off. She might have, had she not still been so very sore. Since then, any time that he or Marcus attempted to speak to her at any given time, she seemed to run them off. Screeching things about her reputation, and that she couldn't be seen with them, how dare they. He just considered himself lucky that it wasn't him she had taken to punching. Marcus had been hit in the gut one too many times to forgive it any further, it would seem.

Even with her cruel words, he wasn't intimidated. He had been subject to cruel words his whole life, even from her on more than one occasion. He was fairly certain she had called him 'freak' more than anybody else in this castle. Yet, he had already made up his mind that he was going to help her. Whether she liked it or not. He had finally managed to convince her to meet him here tonight, it was after curfew, but he didn't think that posed much of an issue for her. It was just about the only time that he could find enough space, and enough quite to conduct his experiments. It would seem, that she was only willing to even broach the subject of what she was whenever she absolutely had to know something. He wished that she could understand that whatever had happened in the past, whatever reason that there was for her and Marcus not to like one another, that had no relevance now. She needed to know things, she needed them, whether she liked it or not. At least the wolfsbane potion was going to help her control her urges, make the changes just a little bit better. He had made hers stronger than the other batches, on purpose, given that she wouldn't allow them to walk her through how to make things better. With her dosage, he wouldn't be surprised if she turned into a very sleepy wolf after her transformation, and slept through the lunar cycle. It would be a kindness, keep her and Amina away from one another. Even though they couldn't really damage each other any further, it was better to be on the safe side. The potions he had lured her here to come and get should get her through the end of the school year and into the summer, at the very least. He could make her more, but he wasn't certain if she would even remember who he was after they had graduated. At least then, she wasn't really their problem. She wouldn't allow herself to be.

Tobias' hands flicked through the pages of the book open in front of him. To any onlooker, they would think that he was just looking at an empty, old journal. He knew what he had written, could see it clear as day. Even if it was readable to anybody, he doubted that they would be able to understand what any of the pages contained. The writing was in every which direction, random drawings and tables of ingredients littered in with personal thoughts and ideas. It was his very most beloved possession, even if he was running out of pages to write on. Breaking up a long batch of gillyweed and dropping the bits into the open, clear bags in front of him as he read. He had another seven minutes before he needed to stir his cauldron again, and then he would be broaching the area where he had messed up the last batch, he thought, and was hoping that this one would at least remain the molten silver color, instead of turning the color of sour eggs. He was aware that he was no longer alone in the room, but given that there was no way for her to pick out the potions he was giving her from the rest of the lot, she would have to speak up sooner or later. Dropping the last of the weeds into the bags he reached into his pocket of his one piece outer pajamas and grabbed a bertie bots from the box stashed away there, and set about sealing the bags in front of him. The front of his clothing was unzipped to the waist, the longer sleeves removed from his arms and resting around his waist, exposing the ironically chosen under shirt. He didn't want to get potion splash on his jammies after all.

TAGGED ! kariana
WORDS ! 1,037
OUTFIT ! CLICK
LYRICS ! sometimes by skillet
TEMPLATE ! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES ! finished

[Kariana Gabrielle Travers]

_{Underneath This Skin There's A Monster}

( Somewhere Not So Deep Within )

t h e r e • l i e s • t h e • m o n s t e r  

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

If there had been any way to avoid today she would have done it. She’d woken up, gone to all of her classes for the first time in she couldn’t even remember in how long, and gone out to the pitch to exercise for the better part of the evening… even skipping supper, not that she made it to the dining hall very often anymore anyways. And yesterday had been her day at the pitch… like some fucked up custody agreement she and Gavin had come up with concerning the pitch that both of them so frequently used. It was probably one of the few things she hadn’t given up. She hadn’t stopped running half of the quidditch practices, or executing her own personal workouts. If anything they’d only increased as of late. Where she could hate all of the physical changes her body had underwent in such a short time in the privacy of her dormitory- but out on the pitch? She was free to run. And running was what she did best these days. Every time her feet hit the grass she left behind a little bit of the self loathing that cloaked her throughout the day otherwise, increasing the adrenaline pumping through her now much more agitated system. She’d headed out there straight after her last lesson of the day, ignoring the way both her mind and body had wanted to reject the idea in favor of crawling back between the warm familiarity of her comforter with her curtains drawn and an unlimited supply of alcohol and chocolates- another thing she’d never been overly fond of before her change. But then she could barely stand to snack on the fruits she used to crave so much, not with the all too visual reminder of who had usually helped her finish the lot off. Chocolates weren’t part of her usual regimen… therefore chocolates were safe. For the most part anyways. She wasn’t sure there was any blasted thing that didn’t carry some memory of him with it, they’d spent too many years together too intertwined for there not to be. She hadn’t started with flying as she once might have, had completely ignored her broom and just begun her run, attempting to push her body to its new limits- however unlikely she was to reach them. She’d followed it up with a series of sprints and exercises on the pitch itself; lunging, squatting, and flipping her way up and down the field with an eerily studious precision. She didn’t bother with breaks, not for water or a breath of air, trying desperately to recreate the burn that usually took place within her muscles after such a workout. Push. She had to push herself to keep her feet from leaving the pitch entirely. It wasn’t until curfew was approaching that she finally made her way back to her pile of items she’d dumped at the bottom of the stands, grabbing her broom and taking off forcibly from the familiar turf. She’d barely gotten herself straddling the stick before she was soaring up, letting the wind tear at her skin and hair.

She’d heard the shouting as the wind picked up, assuredly some of the people who had been milling about attempting to warn her that it wasn’t the safest weather for flying. No one from her team assuredly. Even before her recent shift in temperament to the even more volatile they wouldn’t have dared- she and Gavin had gone out one night in the middle of a storm- a fit of rebellion to be sure, they’d both been miffed for different reasons and it was one of the few rules neither had broken by that point. She’d always been an aerial flyer, nearly gymnastic in her very flight. For the most part she kept it low key in games, her flips and twists only served her so well with other players on the field. Not that they didn’t have their moments. It was only when flying just to fly that she truly got to unleash it though, corkscrewing atop the broom in a series of intricate maneuvers that only set off into another stream of them. She worked her body into the wind, as any quidditch player worth anything knew how to, throwing her weight into every move she made. Whatever shouting had started soon turned into appreciative mutters, the occasional whoop threatening to interrupt her concentration. If she’d been paying them any mind it might have. What did they matter though? They were all inconsequential in the end, she had no reason to seek their approval or notice- her anger spiked considerably, broom spiraling at an alarming rate towards the earth only to pull up sharply moments before the collision, tips of her ponytail brushing against the dry earth as she made her way back up into the cloud cover. She could lose herself up here; momentarily forget everything that was wrong with her life, with her body. Up here nothing had changed, her broom fit just as easily between her thighs as it always had, the sky atmospheric pressure cocooned her just as steadily. No one else existed up here; no one else could intrude unless she gave them express permission to. When she was in the air she was a different person, an entity all to herself…

It couldn’t last of course. Too soon curfew was approaching, the few stragglers who had held out to watch her packing up and leaving themselves. She waited until the last had disappeared from her view to drift back to the turf, dismounting easily and gathering her things slowly. The end of her workout signaled much worse coming up for the night, she hadn’t forgotten- not even for one minute, no matter how she’d tried- what she’d agreed to tonight. After curfew. In an empty classroom. She’d avoided the lot of them to the best of her ability since the incident, hurling violence and insults their ways respectively when the two males had tried to approach her in the halls or courtyard. She couldn’t afford to be associated with them, couldn’t afford to let her reputation take that hit. She definitely couldn’t afford for people to take too much notice of the similarities between she and Marcus now. The eye color was unavoidable; she had to be thankful it was different enough to pass with the cover story that had she had so seamlessly slid into without even having to say a word. Cosmetic surgery… it was laughable, the very suggestion that she’d need any such thing. She’d avoided people so successfully up until now she’d almost forgotten what all this new thing entailed. That is until Tobias had informed her, inbetween her denial that she needed to talk about anything with him, that he’d have her potions ready for her to pick up. Potions. Potions to help the transition. Wolfsbane. The reality of it all was nearly too much. Coupled with the fact that she actually had to talk to him. She’d avoided him even harder than she had Marcus, going so far as to leave the room whenever Tobias seemed like he might have any intention of approaching- sometimes well before that. Facing Tobias meant facing whatever connection had been forged while she lay dying in that field, whatever connection had cemented so fully- tied so irrevocably the minute she’d really awakened and looked up at him. She recognized him on a level she couldn’t explain, felt drawn to him in a strange sort of sense she didn’t feel like examining. So long as she didn’t have to speak to him she could avoid it. Anytime she was around him though she felt drawn towards him, felt compelled to somehow get to know him.

She didn’t need to know the freak, didn’t need to try and decipher whatever it was that was coiling within her each time he spoke to her.

She had to speak to him tonight though, or at least be in his presence. Given the area he’d chosen for the designated meeting she’d have to be there well after curfew, something she wasn’t adverse or unfamiliar with… rather she had to do so without raising suspicion among the new scrutiny of her dorm mates… and Avery. Especially Avery. Which meant that she had to get ready for bed as usual, throw pajamas on- throw her hair half up, scrub her face of whatever makeup she’d placed on her face throughout the day… and climb into bed with her curtains drawn. That, thankfully, was hardly a rare occurrence these days. No one glanced twice when she pulled her alcohol and sweets into her curtained bed, curling upon herself to wait until the gentle conversation and giggles turned into snores. Some a good deal heavier than was absolutely necessary and Kariana wondered once more why they hadn’t made the curtains sound proof. It would have solved a good deal of issues at the castle. She spent her time burning through the alcohol, quite figuratively in the end, and staring at the folded canopy of her bed in disgust until the clock she’d pulled in off her bedside table indicated the agreed time. She unfolded slowly then, in no rush to get to the classroom they’d agreed upon. There was no sense getting dressed when it would only make her look more suspicious were she to get caught in the corridors. Being out after curfew was enough of an infraction- if she were dressed looking like she was going out or just getting in it would be way worse than her wandering the castle. She had absolutely no interest in getting caught by a prefect or professor… plus she was so damn hot these days- it was difficult to wear anything at all. She settled with pulling an over shirt that hung off half of her frame over her camisole top, not bothering with rummaging around for shoes before she slipped quietly out the door and down the familiar passages. Damn him to hell. He could have just delivered the potions, or let Avery deliver them to her. There was no real need for this meeting… though even as she went she could feel some of the tension leaking out of her, her feet seemingly taking to the course as if something inside of her needed to get there. Fuck.

It wasn’t until she was in the room itself, hesitating at the doorway. She couldn’t even react to his odd appearance or the situation at all really. So she sat in silence before clearing her throat slightly. “Why are you helping me?”

( It Searches With Claw)

a n d • t o o t h, • h o w l i n g • a t • t h e • s l i g h t 

And With Bloodied Feet It Hunts

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

WORDS! 
WEARING! Jammies  
NOTES! Hurm, ho, hum
TAGS! Tobias Dear
INSPIRATION! OUAT
TEMPLATE CREDIT! Arro @ Caution 2.0

[Tobias Leberecht]

SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD
• to believe there's someone else who could be •
JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME

Tobias' eyes poured over the book in front of him. Taking in each and every word with consideration. He didn't look up from the text to see her, he knew almost anybody else would have. Many men in this castle would have killed to have been in a room alone with her, to be this close to her and not have her yelling and screaming at them. He should have felt more honored, but given her treatment of them lately, he didn't feel like being all ceremonious. It wasn't just that she was turning physically violent toward Marcus, he knew that was bound to happen, she had been physically violent toward him even before the change. It was, something else. She had been steely indifferent toward him, and for some reason that offended him just as much as her numerous comments toward him in the past. All of the name calling and insults. The rumors that he knew she had started because she was bored. All of the ways she had set about to hurt him, and he had forgiven her. He would continue to forgive her, she needed to understand that. Maybe, if she did then she would start to be kinder, stop lashing out just because she was a wounded animal. Though, he did admit that it felt a little good. Her needing him for something. She was forced to come to him, instead of awkwardly approaching her in the hallways or attempting to find her after class whenever she wasn't surrounded by her little gang. Whenever she had no reason whatsoever to insult him, it wasn't horrible. That's for certain.

He had been half tempted to force her to talk to him. After that night, after whatever had happened with the eyes he had wanted to see it again, see more of it, wanted to see up close and person just how the color had ended up. He had been there to see it start anyway. He could have done it, walked up to her, saying things like 'last night' and 'you can't deny it any more than I can' in a loud voice, sure to be overheard and invoke questions. He wasn't that desperate yet, if she had skipped out on tonight, that might have been his next move. Luckily she was here and he didn't have to resort to such things. It took her a long moment to say anything at all, and when she did he couldn't help but scoff. “Why are you helping me?” Slowly, he turned to look at her, his eyes dragging just after he filled another plastic baggie with another handful. He had never been on to conform to the social norms, that women needed to wear dresses or that men needed to be the strong ones. He knew this time, his dislike for make up was founded. His lips parted in surprise, good surprise as she took in her features. Scrubbed free of more than just product, he could see that now. Snapping his mouth shut and whipping his head back around to the weeds in his hands, dropping the last bunch carefully and wiping his hands free of any remnants. “Why wouldn't I?” even before she had been turned, he would have helped her had she asked for it.

Did she really doubt him so much? He knew that she didn't know much about him, he might be a freak but he was better than that. Grouping the baggies together and drawing a small circle of space for her to sit in. He didn't ask her to, when she was ready she would come in. He didn't make any snide remarks about how she could be more grateful. He just waited. His eye drifted to her side in spite of himself, his fingers itching to write down how she was moving, the effects of the potion he had used on her. It was almost overwhelming. “Can I see it?” the words came out, he didn't mean now exactly, but he wanted to draw it, to add it to her page in his journal. He had been getting impatient to document the effects. He knew that it would be painful for her, reliving any part of that night but he desperately needed to know. To copy each and everything down. He couldn't jump on her, she would run. He needed to be patient. He wiggled a little where he was sitting, distracting himself as he leaned forward, peering into the cauldron. It had almost a mirror quality to it, interesting. Grabbing the sprigs of rosemary next he started to pluck the dried leaves off into a velvet lined box, hoping still to detract from the bluntness of his question.

TAGGED ! kariana
WORDS ! 792
OUTFIT ! CLICK
LYRICS ! sometimes by skillet
TEMPLATE ! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES ! finished

[Kariana Gabrielle Travers]

_{Underneath This Skin There's A Monster}

( Somewhere Not So Deep Within )

t h e r e • l i e s • t h e • m o n s t e r  

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

She almost turned back around and walked out of the room as the words fell from her lips, filling the empty space around them and coming back to slap her in the face. There was no reason for her to ask him that, not really. She didn’t want his help. She didn’t want to be in this room period. But the question was still there, hovering both in the air and in her head- repeating itself with incredulity. He had no reason to help her, nothing to gain from it- not now that her blood status had been pushed so unbelievably low- not now that she’d lost everything that she’d ever counted as important or worthwhile in her life. She was, for all intents and purposes now, worthless. There wasn’t anything she could bring him or do for him. There weren’t any favors she could secure for him on her good name alone. Well- that wasn’t entirely true, the rest of the wizarding world wasn’t aware of what she actually was now, of what had actually brought about all the subtle and sometimes not so subtle physical changes. Of what she was now. Technically speaking he could still benefit from whatever her name was worth these days. Though, she knew- however intrinsically- that he didn’t want anything that could possibly offer. If he’d wanted an in to her world he certainly wouldn’t have gone about befriending blood traitors and other undesirables. He would have fought harder against the things that had been both said and spread about him over the past seven years- would have tried to change that image. But he’d let it all roll off of his back, hadn’t ever sought out anything remotely resembling normal. So whatever it was he could possibly want couldn’t have anything to do with that. Which left her right where she’d started when she’d first asked the question- confused. She didn’t like the confusion, didn’t like the urge her body seemed to have to move further into the room, closer to him. Already she could feel the headache building behind her lids, pulsating in a steadily insistent rhythm inside of her skull- thrumming against the boned structure. There was too much here she didn’t understand, too many things crowding her head- making her impulses slower, making her retreat into her thoughts. She didn’t like it, didn’t like the way her feet seemed to ignore her desires and wander further into the room, stopping midway to where he was seated, her fingers curling into fists. Fuck. So long as she didn’t look into his eyes. So long as she kept her gaze otherwise occupied she’d make it out of here okay, would make it out of this room without any further damage to her already skewed life.

She needed that reassurance, needed to repeat that to herself as she waited for his answer, her eyes instantly focusing on the bridge of his nose as he turned his face to her, something impassable moving over his features, something she hadn’t seen on his face before. The parted lips, surprise? She didn’t want to examine it too closely, her eyes drifting quickly from his face to what it was he was busy doing, taking in the bags and things his fingers were moving over. Something seemed to coil inside of her and she turned her eyes quickly from that, a brief flash of irritation crossing her features as she looked just beyond the point of his left shoulder. Unidentifiable. If she kept repeating that she’d be fine. She was irritated with him sure, more for the fact that she needed his help- for the fact that she seemed to need to be around him. For any number of reasons. But she was more irritated with the situation itself, with herself- for needing to be here on any level. “Why wouldn't I?” Her eyes rolled backwards before she could help it, shaking her head slightly as he avoided answering her question. Because he had any number of reasons to, because he made it sound like there was nothing odd about this at all. Like he wanted to be helping her? Somehow she doubted it. Still looking at the point just beyond his shoulder she lifted one shoulder in a jerky shrug, her lips parting to release a frustrated sigh. “Because you aren’t getting anything out of it.” Her answer was short, nearly strained as it passed between her lips. People didn’t do things for free, they didn’t offer anything without a fair trade in mind. Yet he hadn’t approached her about wanting anything, about anything other than this apparent ‘desire’ to help her. She didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way it settled underneath her skin- didn’t like the way it seemed to fit, feel natural. She didn’t like this period. “Because you don’t like me.” And people certainly didn’t go around helping people they despised. Hell, half the time people didn’t help those they claimed to love- she’d learned that lesson the hard way around, still felt the bitter disappointment so close to the surface. Her limbs shook slightly, the strong emotion pooling within her, rising up the back of her throat and under the pores of her skin before she could squash it, dismiss the swirl of negativity. Because that was just what she needed. To shift in a room with the boy who ran around with mutts.

The vibration ceased almost instantly at the thought, leaving behind a wave of surprise. She hadn’t managed to push down any emotion, strong or not, recently like that- hadn’t been able to control it once she lost hold of the admittedly very short leash she’d had on it. She was silent during that time, her eyes narrowing in concern despite herself, trying to ascertain how she’d managed it- how she’d tamped it back down into the cage she held for it so quickly, so efficiently. So focused on it that she almost missed his next question, almost overlooked the implication. “Can I see it?” Her face jerked to him involuntarily, eyes following his movements warily. Of course it only took her a moment to understand what he was referencing, her fingers going to lift unconsciously to the section of her shirt just over the mark the bitch had left on her skin, pressing into the imperfection for a moment as she eyed him sideways, once more remembering that if he turned she could be caught in his gaze. She couldn’t look into his eyes- like a mantra she needed to be repeating it to herself so she wasn’t caught unaware. Could he see it? Like it was some sick fascination. Maybe he needed to know how far it had healed for his potions, she wasn’t sure but she didn’t see what could be gained by saying no. Slowly her fingers drifted down, over the fabric of the two shirts hiding it from view until they reached the hem- hooking the bottom of around the edges of her fingers and lifting- pulling it up until the faint pink lines glared angrily from her bronzed skin- eyes moving to the top of his head as if to block out that someone else was seeing it. Because she was. She didn’t want to think of someone’s eyes on that once smooth skin, to see the mess it had made of her flesh. To see how far she’d fallen into ruin torn into her skin. It was better, she knew, than it could have been- than it should have been. But that didn’t stop the large swallow she had to take to clear her airway, didn’t stop the tightening of her fingers on her shirts as she felt his eyes go to it. “Does it make a difference?” She knew it did to her, knew it changed everything about her body. She knew it looked disgusting against the rest of her skin, knew it marred it beyond recognition to whoever might have seen her torso before. She meant for the potions, for whatever it was he was asking, but the bitterness of her words over the situation, over the bite that had been extracted out of her- her pound of flesh as it were- was evident in her tone.

She didn’t know why it mattered so much, didn’t know why it bothered her more that he should be seeing it than say Regulus or Avery… but it did, it made her feel like she was on display, as if she were being judged and found lacking. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her suddenly dry lips, eyes fighting against closing on the onslaught of emotion. This wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t here.

( It Searches With Claw)

a n d • t o o t h, • h o w l i n g • a t • t h e • s l i g h t 

And With Bloodied Feet It Hunts

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

WORDS!  1,456
WEARING! Jammies  
NOTES! Hurm, ho, hum
TAGS! Tobias
INSPIRATION! OUAT
TEMPLATE CREDIT! Arro @ Caution 2.0

[Tobias Leberecht]

SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD
• to believe there's someone else who could be •
JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME

Whenever he asked Amina to see her scar, he hadn't felt as nervous. Perhaps it was because he never had any reason to be nervous around Amina. They had always gotten along very well, she was so kind hearted that she never made him uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because their personalities just molded so well together. Conversation was easy, and while he knew it made her uncomfortable to show it off, it had helped to bring them closer. He needed to see Kariana's scar to see if he had actually helped her or not. A part of him knew that just because she was alive, it meant that he had to of helped her at least a little. Amina hadn't been kind whenever she had dug into her side. He could rattle off a list of reasons why it wasn't a totally outlandish question if she chose to question it, or call him rude names. He felt like he was prepared for anything at this point. Then again, he had told himself that before and it hadn't ended well for him. He could remember more than a few times where he had sulked off to the Ravenclaw commons until Marcus would come along and manage to cheer him up. Not always as a direct result of her actions, but certainly some of the times. He hoped this would be fairly tame, he had never been with her by himself before. This was technically the very first time that they were alone together. All other times, there had been others at least in the room. He couldn't even count whenever he had camped out at the foot of her bed since she did share a room with four other women.

That realization really shouldn't have hit him as hard as it did.

“Because you aren’t getting anything out of it.” He would have asked her if she only helped people whenever there was something in it for her, but he already knew the answer to that. So he said nothing, but he wasn't like that, it didn't motivate him to only do things for his own personal gain. Did he seem that way? He hoped not. His hands were working on routine, sorting. The prep work was exhausting, but at least he got most of it over, and only had to do it once or twice a year. He liked having his things ready whenever he wanted them, so this helped him have that. At least something would come from this. “Because you don’t like me.” His eyebrows knit together, and it took him a long moment to speak. His hands lowered while he contemplated, a ferris wheels of options rolling around in his head. “You shouldn't assume things,” he said softly as he was inhaling. His eyes lifted to her, though she was still avoiding him, “Helping you is the right thing to do,” he said a little stronger. It was how he felt, she wouldn't be able to do this by herself, he knew that, and even if she didn't want to say it aloud, she had to know that as well. He might not like the things that she did, or how she treated people outside of her house, but he hadn't taken the time to get to know her...and he refused to judge people like she had done in the past. Nodding to himself, confirming that it was he shuffled some of the things around again as she finally moved into the room.

He knew she didn't want to be here, but he wished she had made at least a little bit more of an effort to his that fact from him. He did have feelings. He wanted her to be here, didn't mind spending the time with her, but she was making it difficult, for certain. At least she was humoring him, pulling up the bottom of her shirt, exposing the skin of her stomach so he could see the jagged marks. His hand reached automatically for his journal, flipping it open to the page he wanted and grabbing his pen. He knew to her it would look like he was writing nothing, the words disappearing from her sight the second they were finished, writing nothing on empty pages. The book was heavier than it looked, but he could see everything in it. He knew what it was, what it said. His pen jotted down a few notes sideways on the margin, and started to make a very quick, small, sketch, glancing from the book to her skin.“Does it make a difference?” Hers looked so much more like an actual animal bite. Unlike Amina's which was torn chunks of flesh that looked like it had been pushed back onto her back by luck, or Marcus'...that he had trouble describing. Hers was, almost clean. Though he doubted that she saw it that way. Flipping through a few of the pages he jotted a few other notes. The urge to bombard her with questions was nearly overwhelming, he literally had to bite his cheek to keep from doing it. He didn't look at it with disgust or anything other than abject curiosity, because he was curious. He wanted to know what it felt like, where there any negative feelings, but to do that, to accurately access what she had gone through, she would need an accurate frame of reference, and she had none. She wouldn't allow herself to have one. Amina knew of Marcus, but Kariana, she just wouldn't allow them to help, to openly talk about it. Yet, foolishly perhaps, he just kept trying. Placing his hands on the top edges of the books, holding it to himself, bottom edge pressing into his stomach. “Yes,” he answered, though the word didn't seem to encompass what it was that he was trying to say really. “I don't bite,” he chuckled to himself, indicating once more to the spot that he had cleared for her.

TAGGED ! kariana
WORDS ! 1002
OUTFIT ! CLICK
LYRICS ! sometimes by skillet
TEMPLATE ! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES ! finished

[Kariana Gabrielle Travers]

_{Underneath This Skin There's A Monster}

( Somewhere Not So Deep Within )

t h e r e • l i e s • t h e • m o n s t e r  

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

She was surprised. Not by his outfit or the way he had chosen to conduct this meeting- she had been expecting odd. She was surprised at the way he moved around the ingredients, around everything he’d had set out before him. It wasn’t that she’d thought him stupid; she hadn’t really cared either way, but she hadn’t come into this room under that assumption. And obviously she knew that he was well versed enough in Potions to be in Professor Talbot’s advanced class- she should know; she had the class with him. A class she’d devoted entirely to learning all that she could. She’d never been paired with the boy for any assignments- hadn’t paid any amount of attention to him at all. So it was a shock to see his aptitude here. Which, she supposed, it shouldn’t have been considering that he was the one providing her with potions. That much in itself should have alerted her. It was different thinking you knew something and seeing it in action though, it changed the perspective. Her eyes drifted to the cauldron and back again, fingers at her sides twitching. “You shouldn't assume things,” She nearly started at his reply, one eyebrow raising. It wasn’t an assumption. It wasn’t as if it were based off of inconclusive data. He avoided her most of the time when he could, he wasn’t affected seemingly at all by whatever barbs she chose to throw his way- hell, even when she had first called him a freak he hadn’t seemed to react. No one let things like that just brush off of them unless they had no care for that person’s opinion of them- it couldn’t even just be a casual indifference, because words could still cut- she knew, she wielded them for that purpose often enough. In order to be so totally unaffected one had to dislike that person enough for their words to hold absolutely no power, no sway. She nearly said as much but before she could reply he was continuing. “Helping you is the right thing to do,” The right thing to do. She didn’t know if he seriously believed that or if he was just quoting some ridiculous house belief or something. She wouldn’t be surprised. People concerned themselves so fully with the right thing and the wrong thing. Black and white, as if their moral compass was so much more compelling than someone else’s. It got him nothing. Her eyes nearly drifted back to his, but he’d already looked up once- already tested her resolve. It didn’t matter, she didn’t care what he thought- but she could feel the smallest bit of ascension at the thought, feel her stomach curl in denial. His opinion wasn’t…. The thought cut off, something coiling tight within her- angry, hurt.

She was just so damned tired… Her fingers curled tighter around the fabric as he pulled some book out, pen scratching at random angles on the blank pages… pages that stayed blank. She would know seeing that with the rare opportunity that he seemed fully occupied she was craning her neck to see. Both him and the pages and she wasn’t sure what disturbed her more. A small amount of respect crept into her system as his pen drifted over the pages, nothing appearing beneath the tip. He’d enchanted his book. She knew that she should be disturbed that he could be writing anything about her on those pages, anything. But what could he write about her that was more damning than the truth? Her breath gusted in a small sigh, fingers dipping down past the hem of her raised shirt to run quickly over the scar beneath- flinching back from the contact instantly and removing the pads of her fingers once more. It didn’t feel right. If anything it felt hotter, angrier than the rest of her skin- though she couldn’t be sure if that was just her imagination or if it was some sort of side effect. She could always ask him… but… her teeth clicked together as she swallowed the question into the back of her throat. Too much talking and she’d end up listening to the impulse to step even further into the room- to talk to the boy. To let her resolve waiver and meet his eyes. Something stirred within her at the thought, encouraging in a not very silent manner. She nearly opened her mouth just to ask him to look up… instead her fingers clutched at the fabric tighter, watching him jot things down into his secret book- eyes following him as his movements seemed to become more jerky, the hollow of his cheeks sinking further. She didn’t know him, didn’t know his facial expressions and changes in mood well enough to understand what it was that he was struggling with. Why he felt the need to hold back whatever it was he was wanting to say. Maybe he wanted to say yes; maybe he was asking her to cover the marred flesh again. Her fingers danced along the hem uncertainly for a moment- he didn’t look disgusted though. Didn’t smell it. He was looking at her like some sort of experiment, as some sort of specimen. And she found that made it easier, easier for her to hold the shirts out of the way until he stopped glancing back and forth from the marred flesh and his book, her fingers finally dropping the hem to let it fall back to the top of her sleep shorts.

Her eyes went to the tip of his nose this time, a more difficult target to focus on- making it more difficult for her gaze to accidentally wander. And maybe it made it seem like she was actually meeting his eyes, she knew her refusal to do so would be seen as odd- would call more attention to it than she wanted. She was afraid though. Afraid of what might rest in those azure depths, afraid of what might bind her once more. Kariana was afraid. And she didn’t deal well with fear. “Yes,” Her eyes shifted slightly, expecting further explanation… but there was none forthcoming. ”I don't bite,” She snorted slightly, amusement sliding through her instantly. “Not as hard as I do anyways.” The sardonic reply was uttered before she could pull the words back, the sarcasm riddling the syllables with a curt kind of humor. She could bite him in half now after all… with more than just her words. Without her consent her feet were moving once more, pulling her to the spot he’d indicated and sitting, knees pulling up to her chest and arms encircling them with what was probably more force than was needed. Her fingers closed over one another, tightening with inhuman strength. She was too close to him- it made her feel… odd, off… It made her nerve endings tingle, the hair on the back of her neck rising- though not in fear, at least not the kind of fear she’d previously associated it with. Her head tilted, going to look up at him… only he was already looking to her, his face already turned in her direction. White-gold met the blue with widened eyes, her breath slowing till it almost stilled within the confines of her chest- her heartbeat increasing. It was still there. Whatever force had first torn through her that night… it was still there, so close to the surface. Her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip nervously before her lips opened once more. “What-“ her teeth slammed against the flesh of her lips as she fought back the next few words, reforming her original question with a shuddering breath. “What difference do the potions make?” A safe topic, her own words of her own choosing. Asking him what he was as she had almost done… gave away too much, acknowledged the thing inside of her that shifted with his gaze.

( It Searches With Claw)

a n d • t o o t h, • h o w l i n g • a t • t h e • s l i g h t 

And With Bloodied Feet It Hunts

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

WORDS!  1,323
WEARING! Jammies  
NOTES! Hurm, ho, hum
TAGS! Tobias
INSPIRATION! OUAT
TEMPLATE CREDIT! Arro @ Caution 2.0

[Tobias Leberecht]

SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD
• to believe there's someone else who could be •
JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME

He was a little curious as to why she was still standing here. Of course, he wanted her to stay, to keep him company. A lot of what he was doing was just busy work, it could have been done at any time in almost any location...but he was doing it now. It wasn't what he had been expecting to happen however, he had been expecting her to come in here, demand her potions and then go sulking off to her room, proclaiming a need for beauty rest of something. No doubt, if Marcus had been here with him, that would have been the result. He didn't know how he knew, he just did. He hadn't expected her to comply with his requests or to allow him to write things within his journal about her, as they so obviously were, he had thought that she would have yelled at him, or called him names. Would have demanded to know what he had written about her or to remove it from his page entirely. He had been expecting something far more hostile than the lady that was still lingering in the door frame, like she didn't want to come too close. True, he could have had just about anything inside of the cauldron starting to simmer in front of him, but nothing that would hut her. He wasn't malicious, she had to know that about him. Just like he never lashed out or retaliated whenever she had called him names in the past. He had always done his hurting in private. For most of their victims, it had seemed like if they didn't seem to be effected by their words...the Slytherins would leave them alone. It just, had never worked out that way for him. He was just a different breed of weird to them. His mother had always told him to just...try to be something else. Try to be liked, try to be accepted. Then they wouldn't tease him, then they wouldn't bother him. Maybe then he could be one of them, maybe be accepted by them. Even with all of his 'magics and stuff' he could be friendly, if he could just not try to be himself. He wanted to appease them...he just didn't know how to be anything other than himself.

At least – if nothing else, she had to admit that he was a person now. Not just her whipping post. He had talents and skills, a personality, she needed him for something. She was finding him amusing, at least it seemed that way. His own smile down at the herbs in his hands as she snorted at his comment. “Not as hard as I do anyways.” he nodded, shooting her a smile, laugh still in his eyes. “Maybe, at least not with the same kick,” he did think that maybe, just maybe if she was comfortable talking about what had happened, about what she was then she might be able to accept it. Might not hate it so much, it would make things a lot easier, helping her if she didn't fight them tooth and nail ever step of the way. His thoughts were encouraged by the way that she finally crossed into the room, occupying the space he had made for her and folding in on herself. Still, no hostility on her face...it was a nice change. He noted. She really was quite pretty whenever she wasn't insulting people. Her eyes lifted to his – connecting and that same pull was there that he hadn't forgotten. At least he hadn't meant to forget it, he thought about her often enough. His lips curled into a lopsided smile that he couldn't even feel on his face it was so easy, the herbs he had been working on falling from his suddenly slack fingers onto the floor. “What-“ He blinked. His fingers going to scoop back up the herb before he hoped that she even noticed anything was wrong, not wrong, but different, perhaps. He didn't think that he was uncomfortable, even less so now that she wasn't just lurking in the door. It was better, easier to not have to shout at her. “What difference do the potions make?” hie smile faded into something softer, letting the subject change without comment. Not that it had been a verbal topic on his mind.

“Depends” he started, moving the things around in front of him until they were in the position that he wanted them to be in. “Which potion you mean, anyway. If you mean the one you're here to get....it will make it to where your mind is still your own whenever you change, to help keep you in control. It's not so much to help with the pain....even I can't do much about that...but it will help some.” He stopped, thinking about how hard it had been, how long he had worked on attempting to find something to counter the pain....how hard it had been pumping Marcus full of everything he could think of, and never succeeding, usually having an opposite effect...just to have gotten this far. “Of course, you'll have to tell me how it works with you so I can change it...fix it to you purposely...everybody is different.” he had only gotten Amina's right last month. Not that she ever needed too much, given her freakish control over herself and the fact that she had so much support, allowed them to support her. Kariana fought them while still in this shape...who knew what she would do whenever she wasn't in this form any longer. “I'll have to work with you a little...so it will help if you are as open about it as possible,” he wanted to add that she wasn't going to go through anything that he hadn't heard about before...but it felt wrong to make any connections to anybody not in this room. Like it might scare her off if he did. This was the most civil he had ever seen her after all. “The other...” he referred to the one he had derived from Marcus' blood...the one that had kept her from dying. “Is something new, I've only ever used it on you...and it seemed to have made quite the difference....” he didn't really want to go into what could have happened if he didn't, certainly not without her asking for that knowledge so he let the sentence trail off. “i have all sorts of things to help, if you had something you wanted?”

TAGGED ! kariana
WORDS ! 1086
OUTFIT ! CLICK
LYRICS ! sometimes by skillet
TEMPLATE ! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES ! finished

[Kariana Gabrielle Travers]

_{Underneath This Skin There's A Monster}

( Somewhere Not So Deep Within )

t h e r e • l i e s • t h e • m o n s t e r  

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

She just couldn't wrap her head around it, make sense as to why he was trying to help her- she kept returning to the question, running it over and again in her mind until she felt she'd phrased her own wonder in every way possible- asked of herself every possible synonym for it and come up with every plausible scenario. Only there weren't any. There weren't any situations in which he could use this against her and come out on top. He was just offering her his help. Without asking for anything. And if made her feel uncomfortable- even more so than she already was. Made her feel like she was looking through smoke and mirrors and coming up blank. It made her feel even more as if she'd been thrown into something that her life previously had neither prepared or wanted her for. How could he just... Again, that weird sensation in her ribcage, the pulling urging her to look up at him- she could feel his eyes on her, pressing into her flesh. And it scared her, frightened her to the point of keeping her eyes so solely focused on the bridge of his nose that her eyes nearly crossed for a moment. She didn't like being scared, didn't like admitting that she was succumbing to such a useless emotion. But even more than that she didn't like feeling overwhelmed. The scared, she was sure, she'd feel regardless right now- the overwhelmed she could prevent, could stifle somewhat so long as she kept her gaze off of his. Her exhale was rough, following the movement of her body across the room, her fingers curling in on themselves. The right thing to do. That phrase was used so frequently, had been shoved down the throats of all of her peers since they were little. The right thing to do. The school had its own views on the right thing to do- going to classes, trying to make good grades, helping 'uplift' your peers- professors harked on in lectures about it. Her grandmother, her mother- they'd had a different set of rules, a different kind of right. She'd been raised to believe that there's was the one she should adhere to, surrounded herself with people who felt the same. In their world 'right' would have been dying on that hill. And yet, the boy before her. Right. He seemed to feel as if he was doing the right thing by helping her. Even right came with a price, an expectation. But he wasn't asking for anything- and she didn't have anything really to offer in the first place.

But the longer she was here, talking- the easier it was for the words to escape her lips, no longer quite as forced or harsh in her own mind. And maybe that was scary in it's own right, the fact that her body was so comfortable with a situation her mind wasn't- or at least didn't want to be. But words fled her lips without her pausing to chose them- something that she'd only recently really understood the importance of, had to exercise in its entirety. “Maybe, at least not with the same kick.” She'd made a joke and he'd returned it. She wasn't even sure which part of that made her more aware of just exactly who she was in the room with, but that same bitter smile still pulled at her lips- as if she was unable to banish it from her features entirely. “Bark,” she corrected him again before she could stop herself. It had more bark than his. But she was already moving where he'd indicated, already sitting by the time she could've processed that she once more had injected humor into a situation that should have remained strictly business. Maybe it was one reason her grandmother found her so incompetent to handle family affairs, the apparent inability she seemed to have with removing herself entirely from a situation lately. It was a line of thought she might have followed, wanted to further evaluate, if she hadn't looked up. She'd been so careful. Damningly so the entire time that she'd been in here- which admittedly wasn't that long, but still longer than she'd intended- but she'd slipped. And that instant was all it took for everything within her to ...move. It shifted, churned, came alive inside of her. This unspeakable feeling that seemed to claw its way through her chest everytime she walked away from him in the halls. It was the same part of her that had pushed Gregovitch to the wall the day after she'd found him calling things out to Tobias. She'd buried that, or tried to, her reaction to seeing someone else talk to him- like that. She shouldn't have cared. It shouldn't have phased her. She didn't understand it, didn't understand it in the same way she didn't understand him- but it was there, present in a way that she couldn't even hope to deny as her blood pumped so ardently through her system. It made him other. Made him something else entirely- both to her and from her. She couldn't put words to it, couldn't even put a reaction to it- not when his lips were curling up as if she'd said something just by looking at him. Like they were having a conversation without even opening their mouths. Which, on some level she felt like they were, like there was a part of her communicating with him on a whole new level. The amount of right it felt was... wrong.

She'd seen him drop the herbs of course, just as she'd watched the shift in muscles lining his face with his smile- but she wouldn't- couldn't bring herself to deviate from safe topics again. As it was, she'd already broken the one rule she'd set for herself in coming here- had already seen him. And he'd seen her. Fingers trailed icily down her spine, threatening to push through the flesh. “Depends. Which potion you mean, anyway. If you mean the one you're here to get....it will make it to where your mind is still your own whenever you change, to help keep you in control. It's not so much to help with the pain....even I can't do much about that...but it will help some.” She couldn't help it, now that it felt as if some barrier had been broken, the way she tracked him moving about proficiently as he worked- some abject part of her brain identifying the different herbs as he did so. She understood the logistics of the curse- knew what it was she had to expect if she was looking at it as if she was reading the pages of a textbook. She'd even gone and read up on it since she'd been bitten- quietly of course, but all the same. She didn't feel adequately prepared though, felt as if there were some instruction manual she'd been passed over for. Of course, O'Conner had offered- but the disgust of actually having to sit with him trying to explain to her something that he was so closely related to the fault for... “Of course, you'll have to tell me how it works with you so I can change it...fix it to you purposely...everybody is different.” Her eyes refocused with that, the awareness that he'd been working with two werewolves hitting her in an odd sort of way, her eyes doing quick inventory of his frame as if she were afraid she'd find some evidence of it. “I'll have to work with you a little...so it will help if you are as open about it as possible.” Open. She nearly snorted. Stopped only by his continuing commentary. This was probably the most she'd ever heard him speak... ever. The thought was quick, flashing through her head before his next words could wipe the smile from her face. “The other... Is something new, I've only ever used it on you...and it seemed to have made quite the difference....” The other. The other being the one he'd administered that night. Her lips twisted, pushing the thoughts down to the best of her ability. “i have all sorts of things to help, if you had something you wanted?”

Silence entered the room for moments after he'd finished speaking, her throat constricting so uncomfortably that she actually cleared it, her chin dropping to rest on her knees, expression conflicted. She was supposed to talk, she knew that- but she didn't even know where to begin, didn't know what questions she was supposed to be asking. “I.. don't know what to expect. I don't know what I'll need.” Like a rush the words fell from her after her hesitation at the start, eyes tightening. “I know what the textbook says, and the books in the library,” she'd pulled nearly every one she could find with any lycanthrope reference. “I just...” Didn't know anything else. The confirmation galled her.

( It Searches With Claw)

a n d • t o o t h, • h o w l i n g • a t • t h e • s l i g h t 

And With Bloodied Feet It Hunts

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

WORDS!  1,500
WEARING! Jammies  
NOTES! Hurm, ho, hum
TAGS! Tobias
INSPIRATION! OUAT
TEMPLATE CREDIT! Arro @ Caution 2.0

[Tobias Leberecht]

SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD
• to believe there's someone else who could be •
JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME

As much as he wanted to be detached, to be as plain as possible...clinical if he could manage it. Given the nature of what he wanted to talk to her about, the pretense with which he'd brought her here, he should have been more cold about it. It had always seemed like if he acted too interested in what was going on...then those he was talking to seemed to get uncomfortable. It was painful for them, on some level he supposed that he recognized that....it just didn't come easily to him. They were already dancing around the subject as it was. “Bark,” At least she wasn't outright shutting him down. That was progress, and he could take progress. It was moving in the right direction. He could feel himself grinning at the work his hands were doing, glad that she had joked back. He had always figured that there was something more to her. More than just the sneers and condescending comments. How could she have been so popular if all she was was a pretty face and mean words? Everybody needed something else to go on, he knew that. Even the Slytherins. They had their own pecking order and she had managed to come out on top for some reason. He sort of wanted to know what it was. Not that he could apply it to himself, he was already too far gone for that sort of thing. Still, it made him curious if she really was funny by nature...or just placating him. It would do for now. He eyed her as she sat down, pleased that she had complied as he set about pushing baggiest together, lopping them together with little clips in his own pattern. He was sorting things now, in his own little way, not that it would do much good. They would all end up messed together in less than three days. He could already feel it, the way that he was going to be muttering to himself for not having a better order, his attention span simply wouldn't allow for it.

He wasn't sure if it was just the fact that he was speaking that was bothering her, or the amount with which he was talking, she was hard enough to read as it was. Hard enough without the...distraction of her proximity, of the way her hair feel just down her arms as she shifted. The pointed way that her eyes refused to even look at him. “I.. don't know what to expect. I don't know what I'll need.” He nodded, soothing. That was to be expected, she didn't have the same resources that the other two did. Didn't have the mystery wolf out in the woods to help her. He knew that Marcus had gone to him, knew that the man would be aware...but he didn't know if she would be included, if she would be helped or not. So, Kariana would be starting from scratch he assumed. How could she not be? She had no idea what had happened to her, sure of course she knew that she had been bitten. Had she tried holding onto silver yet, did she notice that her preference in food was going to be wholly different, she was going to have a whole new palate. That she wasn't going to age like those around her, that she was going to stay youthful, aging like time was a good friend of hers. That now, her life expectancy would be doubled. That any children she might have would be...different. Possibly would be different. It was a lot to spring on one person. “I know what the textbook says, and the books in the library,” the snort was out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop himself. “The library?” he scoffed, as if it was absurd to think that she could have found anything useful. “Oh, Kariana.” he said her name like it was a friend of his, playfully chastising her. “Those books don't know anything at all.” “I just...” Didn't know anything else. The confirmation galled her.

A sigh passed through his lips as he raised himself up just enough to flick his finger at the spoon in the cauldron, letting it swirl around clockwise the next set of times. “The library only tells people the horror stories” his eyes rolling, the same glint that always seemed to present itself when talking about her new species mixing with the glint that was byproduct of her closeness. His hands pushing a set of vials into their wooden holders as he spoke. “Even the Ministry only knows so much about the condition, and they certainly wouldn't want all that getting out to the public,” he smiled “It's not a curse, it's merely a shift. The information you need....would come from others of your kind...would come from me,” his head tilted over to look at her even as he was cleaning up his mess. “From those who studied and lived it. What did the library say...full moon, must be killed with fire one single bite and you're doomed!” his voice taking on that over an over tired story teller, like a tale to tell children to play by the rules “It's not nearly so simple as all of that. It's quite manageable.” His hand moved to the journal, fingers playing over the leather bound surface for a moment as if debating whether or not to show her...his research was far more in depth...would help better than any other book she could buy. But then...then, what would she need him for. “Have you tried running yet? At all?”


TAGGED ! kariana
WORDS ! 945
OUTFIT ! CLICK
LYRICS ! sometimes by skillet
TEMPLATE ! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES ! finished

[/font][/blockquote][/blockquote][/div]

[Kariana Gabrielle Travers]

_{Underneath This Skin There's A Monster}

( Somewhere Not So Deep Within )

t h e r e • l i e s • t h e • m o n s t e r  

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

She didn't like not knowing, didn't like feeling as if she were somehow... less intelligent or less adept because of it. She had made it her business- throughout her entire career here at Galaxia to make sure that she stayed... ahead of others in her grades- kept them up to a nearly damning standards. Had pushed herself as far as possible and then some to make sure that she exceeded in every subject as far as she was able to do so. She didn't like being at the mercy of others, no matter the situation- didn't like having someone know so much more than her- it gave them room to manipulate her, to place themselves above her. Even now she could feel it, that niggling reminder that admitting this as she was, acknowledging this weakness could somehow give him the upper hand- could allow him a power over her that she couldn't afford to give. She'd asked him- honestly- what it was that he wanted, what he could possibly seek to gain from assisting her as he was... Had gone over and over again in her mind what it was that could possibly entice him to help her, thought through motive and action alike. Especially since she'd stepped through the door leading to this room. She knew she had, knew that she still was in the back of her head- would be doing so until she found out. Even if he said it was because it was the right thing- even if against her better judgment she believed him... her fingers twisted into the fabric of her shirt, knotting it over and over again the loosely hanging black fabric around her knuckles. Had he not shown such genuine interest- not necessarily in her 'affliction' in particular but the curse itself... she might have worried more over his questions, over this asking him for help. When he'd asked first to see her scar she'd thought it a morbid sort of curiosity- the way he'd sketched it into his little... invisible book though had suggested otherwise... So she was taking a chance. She was asking questions. Because she was aware that she needed to know more- needed a better understanding of what was to come if she were going to be able to handle it at all. The way he snorted at her statement though- the fact that the sound was filling the space at all had her head jerking upwards, eyes shooting to him. Was he making fun of her for now knowing? Or for looking for the answers herself? Something stung within her, burning like acid through her throat. “The library?” Her lashes flickered, blinking twice in quick succession- the only outward sign of her surprise. Not her then, but the resource she'd used. Confusion filtered through her, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Oh, Kariana.” A wholly different surprise overtook her- pupils widening within her lightly colored irises, not Travers. Not Kat. Not any of the many nicknames that had been given her since coming to Galaxia. “Those books don't know anything at all.”

She might have answered that, quipped back that it had been all she had to go to- truth enough in part. The way he said her name, something about it resonated within her, a different sort entirely from how her entire self seemed to respond when they met eyes. She tried pushing it back, ignoring it entirely as she pushed the rest of her words out through her lips- up out of the throat that wanted to swallow them back. More chances. She was taking too many here- too many. But what choice did she have? O'Conner? Unlikely. She refused to take advice, to get any help that she could possibly avoid from the blood traitor. From the boy that had chosen this. She mentally shuddered at the thought- the thought of going from what he had before to what he was now by choice instead of it being pulled forcibly away. It didn't make sense in her mind- she couldn't reconcile it. But then again, she wasn't the same as him. It wasn't as if she wanted to be here in this room with Tobias... Something under her skin seemed to shift, to crawl as her body dismissed the lie, reacted to even thinking it. She wanted to be here. A part of her did at least. Maybe more than one. If it had just been the potions as she'd been insisting the entire way up here she could have easily left already. Her fingers tightened, the fabric within them protesting slightly- small tearing noise indicating that she'd taken some of the stitching out entirely. That was happening all too often lately- movements that would have once afforded no change at all... Her skin seemed to crawl again, eyes following his movements as he set the cauldron to stirring itself. “The library only tells people the horror stories” Her own eyebrows rose in response- holding back the retort itching to flow forth. Weren't they all horror stories? Curiosity stayed her tongue, the disbelief still clear on her face. “Even the Ministry only knows so much about the condition, and they certainly wouldn't want all that getting out to the public. It's not a curse, it's merely a shift. The information you need....would come from others of your kind...would come from me,” Her cheeks suctioned, pulling the right side inside skin between her teeth as she rolled the skin- allowing her teeth to scrape along it as she thought over what it was he was saying. Most of which, she had to admit, made sense. Maybe not so much his view on it... but certainly the ministry. The fact that she needed inside information was a conclusion she'd already come to- and, again, she had to admit that the boy who seemed to run with the wolves was the preferable choice. And not only because of … well... anything else. “From those who studied and lived it. What did the library say...full moon, must be killed with fire one single bite and you're doomed!” It was her turn to snort, lips pulling up slightly again.

“Something like that...” And it had been. For the most part. No more than they learned in classes- and even when it had gone over and above that it hadn't given any ideas how to handle it once you had been, or how exactly the change would effect one on a day to day normal basis. “It's not nearly so simple as all of that. It's quite manageable.” There he went again with the words that she wasn't quite sure that she could trust or agree with. Manageable made it sound... much easier than she felt it was going to be. Than it already seemed to be for her. It was all she could do not to let anyone in on what it was that was going on with her- the changes manifesting so fast and suddenly that she wasn't quite sure how to keep up with them herself. Well, besides staying within the safety of her four cornered hangings, allowing the alcohol to soothe whatever burn this was that seemed to have encompassed her entire body. This... change. “Have you tried running yet? At all?” She couldn't hold it back that time, the bitter laughter that fled her lips at his question. Had she tried running. Her hands moved from her shirt entirely, afraid she'd end up tearing it apart within her fingers- palms of her hands running up her arms until she could wrap her fingers around her own flesh, squeezing just slightly more than she probably should have- feeling the blood rush to the surface of her flesh. Had she run? She still had Quidditch practice- the ones she was allotted to run, that she had to take care of. The fact that she actually kept up her workout routines... her tongue slipped between her lips, running over the flesh as she rememberd the first time she'd tried running- the change in... well everything had nearly sent her flying feet over ass. Her body was different- the way she existed in it even, the way her feet fell upon the ground. She'd almost gone straight back up to her dorm room and spent the rest of her day seeing just how quick she could burn the alcohol out of her system. Almost. “Yes.” Something had forced her to continue though, to see her run through...

It was probably the only thing she could say that she'd liked thus far about these … new abilities. Her eyes, she hadn't even realized she'd looked away from him- her face set in an expression halfway between wonder and disgust before they connected once more with his- widening just slightly with the impact it still seemed to bring before sparking with... an almost pleased kind of excitement. “I'm faster.” Understatement of the year, she'd outstripped her own personal best by a mile. “My stamina is... increased.” Another understatement- which was saying something considering that she'd outlasted nearly every last male and female on her team. She'd been athletic before, had been good at it too- but this was something else... was otherworldly. Her lips twitched slightly at her own word choice, shoulders rolling back into a shrug. “I mean... there have been other changes.” Like the fact that she could smell every damn herb and potion in this room. Or that she could see ever line and hair on his face. And smell him. Him above everything in this room actually. Her eyes darted away from him- tongue running along her bottom lip again.

( It Searches With Claw)

a n d • t o o t h, • h o w l i n g • a t • t h e • s l i g h t 

And With Bloodied Feet It Hunts

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

WORDS!  1,615
WEARING! Jammies  
NOTES! Hurm, ho, hum
TAGS! Tobias
INSPIRATION! OUAT
TEMPLATE CREDIT! Arro @ Caution 2.0

[Tobias Leberecht]

SOMETIMES I FIND IT HARD
• to believe there's someone else who could be •
JUST AS MESSED UP AS ME

“Something like that...” Tobias found himself nodding, laughing to himself. He'd had this conversation with Marcus so many times over the years. He'd made the same mistakes at first, bringing books to Marcus and asking if the things were true with hushed voices and guilty looks. He'd attempted to learn, and of course they had run their own little tests, the wolves wart leaf did nothing. That was total rubbish. Now, whenever one or the other of the pairing four a book with the word “Werewolf” within the pages, it was normally laughed about. The silly stories of the sightings and tales of how the evil wolves took over villages. Mostly conjecture. The really horrible stuff wouldn't ever make the papers. Not with the corrupt system. Not that Marcus was a part of those groups. Tobias liked to think he was a large part of the reason why he wasn't a part of those groups. Why he hadn't needed to turn to people like that when he and Tobias could just work things out together. He understood why she had tried...he supposed. She was horribly stubborn. It shouldn't have been surprising that even though they had offered to help her, offered to show her things and to help, answer questions, to be there for her, she had always just turned them down. Of course she would turn to books. He tried not to be offended by that fact. He was slightly off put, however, by the laughter that came at his next question. How was that funny? She was a runner wasn't she? An Athlete? “Yes.” She had to of felt it them. The way that Marcus and Amina had described running, after the change was something like...relief. The new found sensations that came with it, well...to hear them tell it made him supremely jealous that he only had human legs.

“I'm faster.” His grin moved to meet her strange one, he could feel himself leaning in toward her, even if he wasn't doing it on purpose. This common interest, this was a perk. He wanted her to know, to understand, that this didn't have to all be bad. Didn't have to just be what the books attempted to make it out to be, it could be so much more. With their help, he could help. “You're much more than just faster,” he urged, wanting to hear her admit it to herself, and he wasn't even sure why. For the first time since she had arrived it was easy to talk to her, “My stamina is... increased.” he nodded, waiting for something else, he didn't even know what word he wanted from her. He knew she had to be elegant, he'd seen her run before. Not that she needed to know that. But she'd always seemed very light on her feet, more so than most. Amina was a gymnast and she still wasn't as light on her feet as Kariana was. Now that she had changed, he was willing to bet she was downright graceful whenever she ran, displacing air around her with an ease she couldn't have fathomed before. “I mean... there have been other changes.” Of course there had been, but he didn't stop her there. She was talking to him, really talking to him for the first time ever. Even if they were short, prompted phrases, he was going to take it for what it was. “Like what?” his hands closed off another satchel and stacked it with the rest, flicking his wrist as things started to group themselves into sections, his journal flipping open and one baggie and section at a time, they marched between the pages of his journal and disappeared from sight. Sure, it was going to make the book heavier...but he might have been trying to impress her. Was he? Why would he want to do that?

He didn't want to rush her, didn't want to push her out of the room but soon the only things left In here besides their bodies were going to be the journal, the bubbling cauldron and the box that contained the potions that she was here for in the first place. His legs shifted below his body, pulling them up closer to him as he waited, the herbs would take a little while anyway, they were being polite, filing in one at a time rather than attempting to shove inside all at once. He really didn't know why he hadn't thought of that earlier...that would keep them all organized.

TAGGED ! kariana
WORDS ! 760
OUTFIT ! CLICK
LYRICS ! sometimes by skillet
TEMPLATE ! PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION
NOTES ! finished