Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2011 4:00:24 GMT -5
(A few days after the British Ministry assigns Anil to his post in Spain...)
“Anil,” Ilmar began deliberately. “I realize that I was the one who suggested that getting a job would do you some good. However,” The bespectacled wizard paused, carefully dodging a flying trunk that passed only inches from his head. “I do believe you’re taking this the wrong way.”
The room’s contents swirled about in a tempestuous storm, drawers and cupboards slamming open and shut as his brother’s various belongings raced in and out of them. A few ink bottles had opened and spilled in the melee, staining the carpet in splats and puddles. Ilmar had trodden in the mess earlier, marking the floor with his footprints, and his socks had become stiff from the drying liquid. The sticky substance had seeped through the wool, and felt cool on the bottoms of his feet. Sighing as Anil ignored him, Ilmar watched as the man persisted in tearing the room to pieces and funneling the aftermath haphazardly into his luggage. At that moment, he felt very much like an eye centered in a hurricane.
“Anil.”
There was no response from the older wizard.
“Anil.”
A pair of socks landed on his head. Ilmar absently plucked them off and tied them in a knot. “O fair brother dearest.” Ilmar walked up to him, and beaned Anil over the head with his new sock-flail.
His brother seized it with a free hand. “What?” Anil snapped. The rest of his clothing drifted uncertainly about the ceiling, their frenzied whirling coming to a jerking stop.
Ilmar gave him a pert smile. “You forgot these,” he said impassively, tugging on one end of the captive socks. Anil snatched them roughly from his hands, flinging them towards his open trunk. They bounced off a corner and onto the floor, where they rolled under the bed.
“Get out,” he said flatly.
Ilmar’s hands moved to his hips. “No.”
“Tch,” he snorted. “Suit yourself.” Anil whipped his wand towards the wardrobe. The doors flung themselves open for a brief moment before Ilmar slammed them shut, leaning casually against the front to keep anything inside from escaping. The contents rattled around, ricocheting within the oaken cupboard, searching in vain for an exit. “Ilmar,” the older wizard growled. “Geroff.”
Ilmar ignored him, loosely crossing his arms. The wardrobe shook under his weight against the doors. “We need to talk, Anil,” he said firmly.
The two brothers stared each other down, stormy and clear green gazes locked. For a few tense moments, neither brother moved. Its valiant efforts producing no results, the wardrobe made one last half-hearted struggle before giving up. A muffled crash indicated that the objects inside had stopped moving as well, quite literally dropping what they were doing. It was only then that Ilmar straightened up. “Well then, about this Spain thing.” He raised an eyebrow. “Care to enlighten me?”
Anil scoffed. “Mind your own—”
“Finish that sentence and I swear to Merlin, I’ll make your ears shrivel so far into your head you’ll have to puke them out.”
“Listen, I’ve got to meet the Apparator in an hour,” Anil snapped. “So sod off.”
“No, you listen,” Ilmar countered swiftly. “You’ve been locking yourself in this room for nearly a whole bloody year and Merlin knows you’d still be in here if I weren’t around to drag your sorry bum out. I finally get you to leave the blasted house, and soon as you walk back in the door, you give us this ‘Oh, by the by, I’m popping off to Spain for a quick vacation’ rubbish. So why don’t you go ahead and try using that line on me again?”
“A vacation? Is that what you think this is?” Anil bit back, eyes flashing. “Yes. A bloody vacation back where I took leave without notice after attacking the school. Brilliant of me, isn’t it?”
Ilmar threw out his arms in exasperation. “Then why on earth are you going back?”
“Why?” he rounded on him. “I’m trying to keep the aviary from being run to the ground, that’s why. Or haven’t you noticed, Ilmar? We’re in it deep, and if we don’t pay this off—”
“Anil, don’t make yourself out to be some martyr, this isn’t about the aviary!”
“I don’t see you doing anything about it!”
“Oh bang the galleons, Anil!” Ilmar burst out in frustration. “It’s not as if we’re going to be put out to the streets if we miss a payment or two and you know it. If money really was the problem, any other job would do just as well,” he retorted fiercely. “The real question is what you think you can run from by escaping to Spain.”
“Just shut it, Ilmar.”
“Come off it already! What are you trying to accomplish back there? You can’t keep pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist! We’re still here, you know. Mother, Father, Avis, Aidana, me; it’s about time you realized we’re all dealing with this as best we can, same as you. So quit acting like you have to take on everything alone, get it?”
“It’s called responsibility, Ilmar. But I don’t expect it’s something you’d understand.”
“Oh for Merlin’s sake—” Before he could finish, Anil raised his wand again and the now freed items zoomed out from the unhindered doors of the wardrobe. Ilmar ducked as the projectiles soared over his head and dove into the trunk. The lid snapped shut. “Anil!”
“I’m leaving.” Anil strode past him to the door, his trunk obediently floating behind him out into the hallway, leaving the younger wizard standing silently in the room they used to share. Suddenly, Ilmar yanked out his wand and burst into the hallway after his brother. “Locomoto—”
Anil immediately whipped around, his own wand drawn. “Expelliarmus! Pertrificus Totalis!” Ilmar’s wand ricocheted off the ceiling of the narrow corridor as the younger wizard fell forwards, stiff as a board, his face planting firmly into the floor.
Even when the plush carpet all he was able to examine, Ilmar could feel Anil’s gaze boring through the back of his head. His footsteps as he walked toward him made tiny vibrations in the floor. “Mobilicorpus.” Ilmar lurched upwards, hovering for a moment before being dumped unceremoniously back into the room’s wardrobe. The last thing he saw was Anil’s face before the click of the lock shut him in. The after image of his expression burned in front of him, floating in the sudden darkness as Ilmar’s eyesight adjusted in the dim lighting. Anger, sadness, weariness were drawn in his brother’s features. But when those faded, there was only one thing left: doubt.
He seemed to hesitate, but it was only a passing moment. “I’ll see you, Ilmar,” he said, and Anil’s silhouette disappeared from the crack of light between the wardrobe doors. As the sound of his brother’s footsteps moved further and further away, Ilmar allowed himself a mental sigh. He’d lost the battle. However, the war that Anil was waging within himself was far from ending. And Ilmar had made it his mission to make sure that he won. Someone would find his inky footprints and let him out soon, though by his guess, it wouldn’t be in time to stop Anil. After all, if no one else could see it, then it fell to him to keep everything from falling apart.
“Anil,” Ilmar began deliberately. “I realize that I was the one who suggested that getting a job would do you some good. However,” The bespectacled wizard paused, carefully dodging a flying trunk that passed only inches from his head. “I do believe you’re taking this the wrong way.”
The room’s contents swirled about in a tempestuous storm, drawers and cupboards slamming open and shut as his brother’s various belongings raced in and out of them. A few ink bottles had opened and spilled in the melee, staining the carpet in splats and puddles. Ilmar had trodden in the mess earlier, marking the floor with his footprints, and his socks had become stiff from the drying liquid. The sticky substance had seeped through the wool, and felt cool on the bottoms of his feet. Sighing as Anil ignored him, Ilmar watched as the man persisted in tearing the room to pieces and funneling the aftermath haphazardly into his luggage. At that moment, he felt very much like an eye centered in a hurricane.
“Anil.”
There was no response from the older wizard.
“Anil.”
A pair of socks landed on his head. Ilmar absently plucked them off and tied them in a knot. “O fair brother dearest.” Ilmar walked up to him, and beaned Anil over the head with his new sock-flail.
His brother seized it with a free hand. “What?” Anil snapped. The rest of his clothing drifted uncertainly about the ceiling, their frenzied whirling coming to a jerking stop.
Ilmar gave him a pert smile. “You forgot these,” he said impassively, tugging on one end of the captive socks. Anil snatched them roughly from his hands, flinging them towards his open trunk. They bounced off a corner and onto the floor, where they rolled under the bed.
“Get out,” he said flatly.
Ilmar’s hands moved to his hips. “No.”
“Tch,” he snorted. “Suit yourself.” Anil whipped his wand towards the wardrobe. The doors flung themselves open for a brief moment before Ilmar slammed them shut, leaning casually against the front to keep anything inside from escaping. The contents rattled around, ricocheting within the oaken cupboard, searching in vain for an exit. “Ilmar,” the older wizard growled. “Geroff.”
Ilmar ignored him, loosely crossing his arms. The wardrobe shook under his weight against the doors. “We need to talk, Anil,” he said firmly.
The two brothers stared each other down, stormy and clear green gazes locked. For a few tense moments, neither brother moved. Its valiant efforts producing no results, the wardrobe made one last half-hearted struggle before giving up. A muffled crash indicated that the objects inside had stopped moving as well, quite literally dropping what they were doing. It was only then that Ilmar straightened up. “Well then, about this Spain thing.” He raised an eyebrow. “Care to enlighten me?”
Anil scoffed. “Mind your own—”
“Finish that sentence and I swear to Merlin, I’ll make your ears shrivel so far into your head you’ll have to puke them out.”
“Listen, I’ve got to meet the Apparator in an hour,” Anil snapped. “So sod off.”
“No, you listen,” Ilmar countered swiftly. “You’ve been locking yourself in this room for nearly a whole bloody year and Merlin knows you’d still be in here if I weren’t around to drag your sorry bum out. I finally get you to leave the blasted house, and soon as you walk back in the door, you give us this ‘Oh, by the by, I’m popping off to Spain for a quick vacation’ rubbish. So why don’t you go ahead and try using that line on me again?”
“A vacation? Is that what you think this is?” Anil bit back, eyes flashing. “Yes. A bloody vacation back where I took leave without notice after attacking the school. Brilliant of me, isn’t it?”
Ilmar threw out his arms in exasperation. “Then why on earth are you going back?”
“Why?” he rounded on him. “I’m trying to keep the aviary from being run to the ground, that’s why. Or haven’t you noticed, Ilmar? We’re in it deep, and if we don’t pay this off—”
“Anil, don’t make yourself out to be some martyr, this isn’t about the aviary!”
“I don’t see you doing anything about it!”
“Oh bang the galleons, Anil!” Ilmar burst out in frustration. “It’s not as if we’re going to be put out to the streets if we miss a payment or two and you know it. If money really was the problem, any other job would do just as well,” he retorted fiercely. “The real question is what you think you can run from by escaping to Spain.”
“Just shut it, Ilmar.”
“Come off it already! What are you trying to accomplish back there? You can’t keep pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist! We’re still here, you know. Mother, Father, Avis, Aidana, me; it’s about time you realized we’re all dealing with this as best we can, same as you. So quit acting like you have to take on everything alone, get it?”
“It’s called responsibility, Ilmar. But I don’t expect it’s something you’d understand.”
“Oh for Merlin’s sake—” Before he could finish, Anil raised his wand again and the now freed items zoomed out from the unhindered doors of the wardrobe. Ilmar ducked as the projectiles soared over his head and dove into the trunk. The lid snapped shut. “Anil!”
“I’m leaving.” Anil strode past him to the door, his trunk obediently floating behind him out into the hallway, leaving the younger wizard standing silently in the room they used to share. Suddenly, Ilmar yanked out his wand and burst into the hallway after his brother. “Locomoto—”
Anil immediately whipped around, his own wand drawn. “Expelliarmus! Pertrificus Totalis!” Ilmar’s wand ricocheted off the ceiling of the narrow corridor as the younger wizard fell forwards, stiff as a board, his face planting firmly into the floor.
Even when the plush carpet all he was able to examine, Ilmar could feel Anil’s gaze boring through the back of his head. His footsteps as he walked toward him made tiny vibrations in the floor. “Mobilicorpus.” Ilmar lurched upwards, hovering for a moment before being dumped unceremoniously back into the room’s wardrobe. The last thing he saw was Anil’s face before the click of the lock shut him in. The after image of his expression burned in front of him, floating in the sudden darkness as Ilmar’s eyesight adjusted in the dim lighting. Anger, sadness, weariness were drawn in his brother’s features. But when those faded, there was only one thing left: doubt.
He seemed to hesitate, but it was only a passing moment. “I’ll see you, Ilmar,” he said, and Anil’s silhouette disappeared from the crack of light between the wardrobe doors. As the sound of his brother’s footsteps moved further and further away, Ilmar allowed himself a mental sigh. He’d lost the battle. However, the war that Anil was waging within himself was far from ending. And Ilmar had made it his mission to make sure that he won. Someone would find his inky footprints and let him out soon, though by his guess, it wouldn’t be in time to stop Anil. After all, if no one else could see it, then it fell to him to keep everything from falling apart.