sortinghat_logs | Dragged you down below

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Dragged you down below

WHO: Rhys and Kurloz
TONE: Surreal, disturbing
RATING: Up to R, possibly, for violent imagery
WHEN: March 1st
WHERE: Rhys's office, Kurloz's head
WHAT: Rhys wants to introduce his protege/son to a particularly disturbing form of magic
STATUS: Ongoing

Rhys sat opposite his son in his office, as they had done weekly since he'd first approached the boy. It was time for the next step. The thing that could bind the boy to him, no matter where his mother took him, no matter what happened later. The thing that could open Kurloz's mind to a whole realm of possibilities previously unavailable to him.

"I think you're ready, m'bach," Rhys told the boy. "It's time for your first test."

(OOC: This was posted in the wrong comm, responses there are c&p'ed to here so it could be moved to the right one.)

Kurloz perked at that, looking eager and leaning forward slightly in his chair. The quill on the table between them began scribbling:

what is it being, sir?

"We've talked of your dreams, and taking control, and you've had some success there. I want to see for myself what you can do, and how you respond to certain ... scenarios," Rhys explained, steepling his fingers. "I'd like to come into your dreams tonight, if you'll allow me."

Kurloz's eyes widened and for a moment he looked mildly conflicted.

it's not a nice place in there.

"Lad, I've lived through two wizarding wars. I believe I can manage in a teenager's head, no matter how dark, and if you wish me to continue teaching you, I have to know certain things," Rhys said, gently.

The student fidgeted some more, needing a moment to consider it. This wasn't just his sketchbook with a few dark drawings, this was t heart of it all, the centre of his mind that he often shied away from with horror.

But, as Rhys said, if the man had survived two wizarding wars...

Mutely, Kurloz nodded, dusky skin a bit pale but eyes determined.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Control when I'm let out," he spat out, sneering in a way that pulled the stitches tight. "YOU THINK THE COWARDLY FUCKER'S GONNA STOP AT JUST UP AND CHOOSING WHEN THE MOTHERFUCK I GET TO RUN LOOSE!?"

"I think your premise is flawed at the core," Rhys said. He grinned suddenly, and the smile wasn't pleasant, though it was full of secret knowledge. "Since you seem to believe that you're two different people. That's what needs fixing."

"He wants it that way," he muttered. "That there fucker's the one who MADE THIS WAR."

The branches shuddered around them and the boy's eyes darted around for a moment before fixating on Rhys' face again.

"Let me show you something."

Rhys raised his hand, and the fingers were now tipped with long, wickedly sharp claws. He set the tip of one to the corner of Kurloz's mouth, and then ripped inward, slicing through the stitches while tugging roughly on the boy's lips.

The boy snarled with the sting of the the stitches tearing off, his own nails sharpening into claws that dug in deep at Rhys' arm.

After a short pause, he thoughtfully licked his torn lips, leaving streaks of purple blood. He then grinned, fangs visible now that his lips could spread easier.

Rhys smiled back, displaying a set of remarkably similar, albeit considerably larger, fangs. "Are you going to be stupid, now, lad? Or are you going to be smart?"

Before he could respond, the vines around them lashed out, wrapping around his body and stabbing in with thick, long thorns, one branch fastening over his mouth before he could shout. The other Kurloz appeared, lips undamaged but fingers stained indigo from how he'd been sewing the other boy's mouth shut. He shoved at Rhys' chest, pushing the gigantic man back and out of the thorny cocoon, expression livid as he yelled, "GET OUT!"

Rhys was stronger than the child. He could overwhelm Kurloz's mind if he chose (though he suspected, with some pride, he'd have a fight of it). But that wasn't the point of this, the point had been to see what the boy would do, when confronted with something like this - a deep terror of himself. So he did not fight being shoved back, he didn't argue. He simply nodded to the blood stained boy, and then faded back, into darkness.

The cocoon roiled and tightened into a crushing ball before Kurloz snapped awake, throwing the covers off and clapping a hand over his mouth to stop from yelling. Shoulders shaking and chest heaving, he took several deep breaths to calm himself, staring at his dream journal, wordlessly charming the quill to quickly write out what he remembered from the dream turned nightmare... which was to say everything.

He didn't even try to get back to sleep that night, spending it drawing pictures from the dream into the wee hours of morning. To say he was exhausted would be an understatement, and when his dorm-mates began to get up for the day he finally felt mind-numbingly tired enough that he slipped under his covers and fell asleep, not even bothered to think about going to classes that day.

When he did wake, he would find a note from Rhys, directing the boy to meet his professor in his office at his earliest convenience, or, alternately, he was invited to the man's chambers, if it was after seven.

Kurloz read the note and hesitated before burning it to ash, and didn't do as he was told for once. The next day he kept his head down as he attended his classes, doing his best not to be noticed.

Rhys, of course, noticed him in Potions immediately, but he didn't single him out for attention during class. What he did do was cast a subtle spell, just before the period was over, that snagged the hem of the boy's robe to one of the table legs, forcing Kurloz to spend the time to free himself as his fellow students filed out.

Which also gave the towering Potions professor time to approach him, of course. "I'm not accustomed to being ignored or disobeyed, lad," he said in a mild voice. "I thought to give you some choice in when we had this conversation, but it seems you would prefer to be cornered."

Kurloz froze as Rhys came up to him, glancing up with wary eyes as he finished freeing his robe from the table. His fingers tightened a bit at his bag strap but he held his ground, staring up at the tall man.

"Come with me. I'll write you a note for your next class, if this takes awhile," Rhys said, heading for the classroom door and then waiting for Kurloz to follow.

Kurloz tensed his jaw for a moment before following, one hand tucked in his pocket and the other still holding his bag strap tight.

Rhys led the boy to his office, closing the door behind them. He indicated the seat in front of his desk, then slid over ink and parchment before sitting down himself. He regarded Kurloz inscrutably for a long moment, then asked, "What did you expect would happen?"

He stared at the parchment but made no move to get his wand out, sitting silently and completely closed off in a way he hadn't done since perhaps the first time Rhys had approached him directly.

"Lad, you are doing no one any good with your silence. I recognize you are upset - clearly you weren't as prepared as I thought you might be. But we cannot address the problem if you won't even tell me about it," Rhys said, tapping one finger lightly on the desk top. "You told me you trusted me, but you obviously do not. If we're to proceed, you must explain why."

Kurloz's eyes narrowed and he reached out for the ink, not bothering with a quill and writing over the parchment with his fingers:

TRAITOR

"How?" Rhys asked calmly. "How was anything I did betrayal?"

Still glaring, Kurloz jerked his thumb across his lips to indicate how Rhys had torn out the stitching in his dream.

"I told you I would teach you control of your urges. The path to that it not muting them and binding them utterly. Does caging and chaining an angry dog suddenly make it more docile during the times you do release it?" The professor asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I also said you would not find this test easy. These are your deepest fears, not simple, childish anxieties." Rhys felt impatient, but he controlled it, did not let it seep into his voice. He had a suspicion that words would not be enough, that he would have to show the boy, and that was a big gamble. It could frighten Kurloz away forever. But it might be a risk he was forced to take.

CAGED CUZ CAN'T CONTROL YET

"But you will have to learn, and you can't learn by leaving things the way they are." Rhys regarded him gravely. "Nothing I could do in a dream can change you that much. You're not running around wreaking havoc on the school right now, are you? These things are your choices. But your reaction to that encounter told me a great deal about how you're managing, and I- "

The older man stopped, his gaze briefly distant as he stared at the wall behind Kurloz. "I wish to show you something. Will you permit me?"

He was still wary, but he nodded slowly, wiping the excess ink off his hands with his black robes. He couldn't be sure what Rhys would show him, but surely it wouldn't be anything he couldn't handle.

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