sortinghat_logs | Stop and smell the grass

WHO: Kurloz Makara
TONE: somewhat macabre
RATING: PG-13
WHEN: 13 October, early evening
WHERE: Library
WHAT: Kurloz is taking advantage of Hogwarts' massive library and delving into the medical biology section. (btw he's not wearing his makeup, just his eyeliner)
STATUS: ONGOING

Kurloz had decided to spend the majority of his Saturday sketching. Not completely unusual, and some of the sketches had even been lighthearted ones of the outdoor scenery. He'd even bothered to collect one of the autumn leaves and draw it out in exquisite detail, but then he'd gotten lost in the veins of the plant. Veins had led to thoughts of blood, and blood had led to here, the library, in the shadowy section on biology. He hadn't bothered with the general Healing tomes - he'd gone straight for the titles regarding the transformation and distortion of anatomy through spellwork, staring fascinated at the images depicting various gruesome twisted creatures and failed experiments.

He sat at one of the desks, several of the books piled at his arm as he scanned through one in front of him, eyes fixated on the detailed water-coloured painting of two wizards that had been merged to share one spine, both of their faces in agony as the writer noted that the subjects had not lasted long under the pain.

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Kurloz's eyes were riveted to the page and his hands began to sign out slowly 'there's more?' before he realized who he was signing to. He snapped out of his reverie and glanced up at Rhys with huge eyes, wetting his lips nervously before writing his previous question on the notebook. Slight apprehension mixed with keen hunger for knowledge were battling it out in his mind but he let none of it show on his face, only his eyes barely showing signs of the emotions as they kept flicking from Rhys' face to the picture of the woman.

There wasn't any genuine fear there, at least not of him. Rhys has a fine sense for that sort of thing, and the lip licking made the nervousness obvious, but Kurloz wasn't frightened of him, the way many other students would be. No, he thought more that the boy was actually curious, and wondered how he'd gotten Sorted into Slytherin, of all places.

"Yes. Much more. Subtle magics and brutal traumas and everything in between. Is this something you're interested in learning about, Mr. Makara?"

Kurloz took a moment to think on that, a faraway look entering his eyes that grew heavy-lidded with quiet contemplation. His jaw worked minutely to lightly bring his teeth over the tip of his tongue and he withdrew into himself. He lowered his head and focused on his hands, expression growing haunted as he remembered Meulin's screaming, fingers curling into white-knuckled fists that prevented him from responding to the question.

"Or something you have personal experience in?" Rhys asked, his voice quieter, but nonetheless probing. He clearly had no problem with personal questions, and not in the way Dolores Maryam had, of kindly interest or a need to soothe. Rhys was a man who was used to his questions being answered, and that was clear from his tone - there was nothing aggressive or pushy in it, there simply didn't have to be.

Kurloz's shoulders jerked and he continued to stare at his hands, a low tremor going through him as the memory of that incident rose up. Fear, anger, determination, sheer adrenaline, it was all too easy to taste on his tongue. He distantly felt his jaw moving, ready to bite down, and his hand flew up, jamming his knuckles between his teeth. The sharp pain was just enough (not the same, there shouldn't be bone) and he collected himself, taking a breath and lowering his hand again.

The look he gave Rhys was bland, even if his eyes were a bit wild, a bit eager. He calmly wrote:

maybe

Edited 2012-10-14 03:19 (UTC)

Rhys smiled, and there was something wolfish in it. "You should remember for the future, lad, that 'maybe' is always a damning answer."

But though the look on Kurloz's face was bland, it was impossible to miss all the other blindingly clear body language - the shoulders, the knuckles in the mouth. If he was trying to hide, he wasn't trying very hard, and the Potion's professor thought this was something he was more ambivalent about. Perhaps he wanted to explain, but was sensibly cautious.

"But it was hardly a question I needed to ask, was it? Tell me, Mr. Makara, what did it do to you?"

Kurloz's eyes narrowed, just a tad, and he slowly wrote:

i think you're not one of them folks who'll up and damn me so quick.

Perhaps it was insolent, but something about the way Rhys was nudging him made Kurloz feel sure that this was something he and the gigantic man could connect on. It might have been that which then coaxed him to respond to the question in a rather... incautious way. The dark little part of his mind that he'd repressed since it'd made itself known with the incident was uncurling and lazily spreading, if only for an instant.

His lips slowly spread into a small, secretive and wolfish smile, eerily similar to Rhys' own without Kurloz realizing it.

Edited 2012-10-14 14:54 (UTC)

"And what makes you think that, m'bach?" Rhys asked, not accusingly or disapprovingly, but curiously. He wanted to know this boy's thought process, why Kurloz seemed to trust him.

The smile quickly vanished and Kurloz gave Rhys a measured look before writing his simple answer.

you gone and be bothering to show a brother this instead of sending me right on over to the hospital wing.

He tapped the open historical transfiguration book before him, indicating the picture of the woman with metallic legs.

"Why would I send you to the hospital wing? You're not ill. Merely possessed of a more open and inquisitive mind than most children your age. And it is my job to educate, after all."

He glanced down at the book again. "Even if it's a bit off curriculum."

The man straightened again, and tapped one long finger against his lower lip thoughtfully. "Are you interested in lessons? Or is this a merely idle curiosity?"

Kurloz stared up at him with mild confusion before writing out:

you can get lessons on this stuff?

Then, just because he was a tad wary of the enigmatic Potions professor, he hesitated before adding:

why're you so up and interested in m this?

Rhys considered the boy for a long moment, thinking. Then he shook his head. "No. I think not. You'll have to take a leap of faith."

"If you're interested, you should be aware of the location of my office and the hours I keep, Mr. Makara. I inform all my students at the beginning of term. Avail yourself of them or not, as you like." He smiled again, then, that predatory grin, full of teeth, that Kurloz's own smile was such an echo. "Good day to you, my lad."

Kurloz stared up at that vicious smile, absently thinking in the back of his mind that he should be terrified of this man, and on some level he was, but for all the wrong reasons. That face itself didn't scare him - it was what he was being invited to do, to take the dark knotted rabbit hole deep into the part of himself that he'd been shying away from for the past year.

Conflicted, he nodded mutely, expression devoid of emotion as he slowly lifted his hand to flap-out in the sign for farewell, mouthing out 'good day' automatically.

Stop and smell the grass

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