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He had wanted, just once, to land a hit. Feel something against the skin of his knuckles. Feel it hit back until he was seeing stars and connecting them into Canis Major, gripping the grass so he wouldn’t fall off the surface of the Earth. It would be fine, he’d thought, it was just once, and no one would have to know.
------In which Regulus Arcturus Black attempts to release his pent up negativity alone, in the woods, and ends up creating a fight club in the midst of a budding war.
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Fuck Joanne Rowling, please read the notes. -
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The morning before Hart Plaza, North follows Connor out of the church and demands answers to every question.
This changes nothing. -
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The night of Hart Plaza, when everyone has left. Everyone but Connor.
It begins to rain.
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"In the way the water grows grey, polluted over the years, from clear blue to a murky green sludge, but no one is around long enough to notice. No one pays attention until it's too late, until someone drops a match into the oil drenched water and watches it light up in flame. Smoke fills the sky and no one can fan it away.
A steadily, slowly, increasing itch in the back of his mind, the quietest thought, under the level of unconsciousness until it's nearly comatose. A pounding in his cranium that announced itself at 3 in the morning, heartbreakingly sober and fingertips numb. A sickening weight in his stomach, liquid metal, that evened out as he stood to start the day.
Maybe, he should've stopped drinking before bed.
Most likely, it was just liver cancer. "
An impossible decision, a forced hand, and sins unearthed from the past. There is nothing he can do but watch it fall, and hope this time, it's the last.
Series
- Part 2 of Project Cauldron
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Summary
There is nothing more unstable than a witch without their palisman.
[Major character death is sometimes temporary, chill.]
Being Rewritten, check last chapter
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