sortinghat_logs | Private eyes

WHO: Rhys Rhydderch and OPEN
TONE: Varied, but probably some element of creepy
RATING: PG-ish, unless something weird happens
WHEN: Throughout the day and evening, Novermeber 15
WHERE: All around Hogwarts
WHAT: Rhys has some questions about one of his students
STATUS: Ongoing

Rhys had to admit - Hogwarts didn't disappoint when it came to interesting things happening. No, it wasn't anywhere near so high stakes as the Wizengamot, but then things were more chaotic and he appreciated that about the environment. The volatile mix of teenage hormones, children's bad judgment, and a staff that seemed prone (and least some of them) to interpersonal drama made for a constant source of amusement, anyway. He was part of none of it, of course, knowing better than to get his personal life mixed up with work, but he did enjoy how incredibly unprofessional so many of his colleague could be.

But lately, something had started to engage him personally. Or someone, rather - the older Makara boy. The younger one was talented at potions, certainly, but it was the elder that had that intriguing edge, that intellectual curiosity and inherent darkness that made him stand out. But he had to know more, and that meant doing more than just examining school records. That meant questions.

He knew Kurloz was close to Dolores, so he'd start with her. But he thought it might be good to talk to some of the other students he'd seen hanging around the boy, as well. Of course, he'd have to be discreet about it. Take them aside after class, or speak to them briefly in the hallway for those he didn't teach, and depending on the conversation, possibly a little memory charm to modify things just slightly. It wouldn't do to be seen as too interested, after all.

[OOC: Essentially this post is open to anyone, teacher or student, who might have ever interacted with Kurloz. They don't have to be pals - Rhys doesn't know which students are friends and which have just talked to him in passing.]

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[An interesting interpretation.] That's one way of looking at it. The power. But there's more. What can you tell me about fire?

[Blinks and cocks head to one side as he re-examines the picture, the quill slowly writing out:]

it'd melt or burn off all the weak shit, wouldn't it? only leave the pure and proper tough stuff behind?

[Smiles a bit and his shoulders shake with silent laughter as he adds:]

or a really well-cooked side of long pig ready for the chow-down.

A bit of both. [agrees, with a dark smile] Fire is more than a destroyer and more than a force of life and rebirth - it is an elemental thing that cannot be controlled, only shaped momentarily. But in that shaping, we change everything. Fire birthed the world and it creates the dust of stars, because it must consume. And because of this, we see it as evil and we see it as good, though it's truly neither, but its own thing.

You must never think of chaos as a tool, m'bach, but you can use it just the same.

[Watches with rapt attention, nodding slowly in understanding. He then hesitates before asking:]

i be getting that it's not a tool but... can a fucker still learn how to control it? i mean in the sense of how to control when to let it out, not how to control it.

[Sighs and runs a hand through his hair, smiling sheepishly.]

this here brother's not making too much sense, huh?

No, the question is exactly to the point of what I will teach you. You can control when you let it out, if you learn properly. Never one hundred percent - when one chooses to use chaos, there are no guarantees, this is the price we pay. But to an extent.

It's one of the reasons the fae will never truly rule this world, or even make a truly significant impression on more than a few people. They are of the wild, old magic, which gives them power, but they are mere gateways for it. On and off, you see? Like a faucet. Whereas we can be channels, we can take that magic and create. The fae cannot, not truly.

[Tilts his head to one side, curious now.]

but how do we fuckers be getting to that stage of letting the power through like that? if it were so easy, every motherfucker out there would be as fucking powerful as anything and we wouldn't have much of a shithole to stand on with all that destruction going on.

You are correct, and the power would be meaningless, were it so simple to obtain. Getting there is extraordinarily difficult, and it requires sacrifice. [His expression is very serious, even grim as he regards Kurloz.] And the complete dismantling of who and what you are, m'bach.

[Pauses and considers that, glancing down at his hands, the quill writing as he thinks.]

is there anything left what needs to be taken apart anyway?

Oh, yes.

[There's something in the way the man says it, an almost sensual pleasure and anticipation, that of all the little hints he's dropped is one of the clearest flashes of his true self, and it is not safe or sane.

Last chance to run, boy.]

[Glances up at him and stares, expression completely devoid of emotion for a long moment.

Then that creature inside coaxes him, and he lets a small, expectant smile curl his lips.]

Are you willing? [The question has the heavy, formal ring of ritual to it.]

[And such a formal question requires a proper response. Kurloz wets his lips nervously and answers, voice soft and broken from disuse, far deeper than he remembers:]

Yes.

[He has to fight with his body's now instinctive response to using his voice, gritting his teeth to stop his jaw from working to bite out his tongue, fingers white as they grip his chair to stop from cramming his knuckles into his mouth to keep his tongue safe. He keeps his eyes on Rhys though, refusing to look away.]

[Ahhhh ... Rhys rolls that voice through his mind, savoring it, and he wonders how many people have heard it since Kurloz went mute. Not many, he'd wager, not many at all. Such a response, in turn, requires something more than simple acknowledgement.]

You're strong enough, I'm sure of it. [And he reaches across the desk, lays a hand on Kurloz's shoulder. If the boy is who he thinks he is ... he has no doubt he'll come through the trials, not only intact, but so much more powerful.]

[Kurloz's smile is thin and tight though his muscles seem to relax as the large hand comes to rest on his shoulder. He's not game enough to try speaking again so soon - it was hard enough fighting back from biting his tongue with just one simple word after all. The quill picks up and writes:]

guess we'll just have to see about that.

We will, indeed. [sits back and steeples his fingers] After the holidays, when you return to school, we'll move on to the next step. For now, I want you to continue with the dream journalling, and we will continue to meet and discuss the content of these dreams. You're doing well, and I expect extraordinary things from you, Kurloz.

[Ducks his head with a pleased smile before glancing up and asking:]

what's the next step, if you don't mind a brother asking?

That will depend on your progress. But if you're doing as well as I think, then we'll start with some of the trials. I need to see where you are in your ability to shape your mind. Once that's established, I'll know what's needed. [Explains.] It will make more sense once we've started.

[Doesn't pretend to understand all of what Rhys says and just shrugs, completely trusting.]

sounds like a plan.

I look forward to seeing what you've got.

a fucker will try not to be getting no disappointments happening here. should i get going sir?

Mm, I will see you in class, later. [sliding the sketch book back to him]

[Smiles and tucks the book and charmed parchment away in his bag along with the ink and quill. He stands and gives Rhys a small salute, grinning as he turns away and walks out, closing the door behind him quietly.]

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