That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
The erupting blast of magic echoed against the walls as the couple apparated within the safety of his loft, guarded severely with magical enchantments and curses to ward off enemies in junction with the loyal men posted all along the depths of Knockturn Alley. The bedroom was spacious and dark, heavy black curtains secured their privacy and shadowed the room and it's simplicity. The darkest hue of oak mirrored against the illustrious bedframe, dresser, and fireplace. Though, a truly magnificent piece decorated the dark wooden floor, a black bear rug, plush with its natural dark glossy and thick fur. Twinkling up above, a candle chandelier suddenly burst to flame at their entrance and cast their dancing shadows across stark white walls.
Rushed, Abigail's fingers found him, and worked effortlessly against his button up until it was torn from his arms and dropped down to the floor. He wiggled free easily, robust shoulders speckled with freckles across long, lean arms were bare and free. Fiery passion sparked to life in gold eyes , hot and hungry, and it spread like wild fire across his flesh and vibrating within his fingertips. A grin kindled of embers as he captured her waist with both hands and then roamed with canal excitement. Clawing her closer and slipping beneath the fabric of her black blouse until his fingers snaked up against warm skin and hit the abiding capture of tightened fabric constricting supple flesh. He unfastened the hooks within a second as his lips captured hers with prevailing ecstasy.
[[Time skip? Or would you like a little banter of dialogue/teasing first?]]
╔══════════════╗ Location: His loftwithAbigail ╚══════════════╝
Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2012 12:51 pm
Whatever our wandering, our happiness will always be found with a narrow compass
And in the middle of objects more immidately within our reach.
Abigail Warstorm
30Years Old►Former Hufflepuff►Wanderer►Single-ish
╔═══════❤═══════╗
The morning sun found the couple sound asleep in Remington's bed. Abigail was pressed close to Remington, her face buried in his neck. The twittering of birds sounded outside the window, and Abigail's warm brown eyes popped open. She briefly felt a pang of confusion at the strange room, then remembered last night and smiled. Rolling away from Remington, she stretched, the bed sheets curving around her delicate form. Running her fingers through her messy hair, she turned to look at the man asleep beside her. He was as handsome as ever, his chiseled features strangely peaceful as he lay in the sea of bedding. Her hand snaked across all of him that was uncovered by the sheets, his shoulders, past his neck, and came to rest on his cheek, gently stroking the fine stubble. Gentle this time, she leaned over and kissed his forehead, wondering what happens now. Will they remain together? Did he feel the same way about her that she did him? Abigail was in love, she knew that for certain. She hadn't been in love since Zachariah, and he cheated on her. She fingered the only thing she still wore, the locket which contained a droplet of his blood. She wore it as a memory, a tribute to him, and everything he had given her. But he had died at her hand, and it was time to move on, on to Remington Nott. She sighed and lay back down, face to face with Remington, waiting for him to wake.
That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
Sprawled freely betwixt the silken sheets, Remington’s chest rose and fell in soft harmony as life wisped in between his lips with every second, absorbing greedily, the intoxicating scent of the woman curled close beside him. Her aura bled a comfort of familiarity into his dreams, so warm and so close in the early bliss of morning sunshine scarcely peeking through the heavy draperies. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t even stirred as the young beauty slipped easily out of the grasp of euphoria to stretch and revel in the memories his dreams were still unfolding—all he could do was breathe.
The lightest touch had grazed over his flesh and left behind a trace of chills, hair rising to the ecstasy of such teasing warmth gliding on his skin. He murmured suddenly, his eyes tensing tight to fight the demons of the morning lights that meant his dreams would soon come to an end. Another symphony of warmth had trickled along his forehead, light and fleeting as an airy harmony. A motion stirred beside him, and, with an abrupt jerk, a massive arm rose and curled around supple flesh, turning over and dragging her close until she was pushed on to her back and he nestled comfortably upon her chest with his arm tight around her dainty waist…
And then his eyes fluttered open, scanning the sight of bountiful curves, delicately placed freckles, and smooth rolling ivory painted skin with a greedy smile. Of course, the realization that she was, in fact, still here, brought an alarm to his mind and it echoed across with a boisterous cackle.
Though he paid it little heed. ”Mmm, morning sunshine,” he whispered in her ear with a low and carnal growl. He could relish once more in her touch, he mused, bask in her delight and treat himself to the taste of her sweet heavenly kiss—but he had the business of pressing issues always rising—or he could make it wait?
He growled in contemplation with himself, though to her, he was sure it would come across as an arousing hum of pleasure. It had crossed his mind, at one point, that he knew barely any more than her name, her affiliation with Kragg, and her affinity for Phelps. Which stirred the thought, could this have been a trap?
As those gold green eyes dove deep into the heat of soft chocolate brown eyes staring back at him… he found he knew even less than he had to start… and what was worse?
He couldn’t remember for the life of him as to why, or what, he was questioning her in the first place.
╔══════════════╗ Location: His loftwithAbigail ╚══════════════╝
Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2012 12:09 pm
Whatever our wandering, our happiness will always be found with a narrow compass
And in the middle of objects more immidately within our reach.
Abigail Warstorm
30Years Old►Former Hufflepuff►Wanderer►Single-ish
╔═══════❤═══════╗
A shiver of delight ran through Abigail's slight frame, reveling in his rough touch. She willingly followed his arm, until she lay on his chest. She nestled her face on his neck, and gently stroked his cheek. A loving smile graced her lips as he greeted her. "Good morning, Love." she replied, running her lips across his neck. She had a question, but she didn't want to ask it. She wanted to know what happens next, but she was afraid of the answer. Too many times, she had been fooled into thinking he would stay and love her. Remington was different, at least it seemed. She hadn't fallen in love with the others, but she had fallen for the golden-eyed stud. Had he fallen for her? Would he come back for her tonight?
Then a thought struck her. Why had she fallen for this one? What made him different from the rest? He was far more handsome then any other man she had met. He had a sort of royal manner about him, the way he carried himself, and went about business. He seemed more interested in her then the others. Many times, she had woken to find herself alone. Yet here he was, nestled with her. "Remington..." she whispered, using his first name for the first time. Unsure of what to say, or how to say it, she simply let lose the first thing that came to her mind.
That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
Her body obeyed his every touch and twirling motion, manipulated by the rough and carnal frenzy his heart had drowned to keep. Robust hands captivated her, controlling with a dominance that sparked to life in glittering eyes of haughty gold. Her lips murmured against his flesh and summoned a spiral of spectral chills racing against the muscles. With a smirk playing at cavernous lips, an insatiable greed of hunger bubbled within him in those silent moments.
But in an instance, it all vanished. Time seemed to falter and diminish, slowing to an abrupt halt and an impassive gaze had suddenly struck like lightning. He pursed his lips and focused his gold gaze upon hers gently, softly, and tenderly. Utterly shocked by her bold statement, though hidden, safe and secure under lock and key.
"Abigail..." he had whispered, desperate and lingering. "I'm dangerous... There are wizards out there waiting for a chance to get me. They'll get you too, if they can..." Silence lingered, but then he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, all the while his free hand traced circles on her flesh on the small of her back absentmindedly..
Haunted memories plagued him, never ceasing their torment or blame upon him. No matter how much he knew he wanted her now, no matter how much he had wanted anyone....
"I had a child once... but they found him, and my grandmother... The mother's of my first three children... All of them, dead." He had never told another soul, and even now, he didn't know why he had told her, despite all he knew of her affiliations; he felt raw, and unbound by the laws he had always adhered to.
He stood suddenly, bare and free as he pushed away the silken sheets and hastened within discarded garments. "I won't bring another innocent woman to her death. I won't." He concluded, his back to her to hide the pompous smile, congratulating himself on such a priceless performance.. The truth was amidst, shrouded, but there, though manipulated and twisted and reckless it may be. All the same, it never hurt to be careful.
╔══════════════╗ Location: His loftwithAbigail ╚══════════════╝
Posted: Wed Jul 18, 2012 12:23 pm
Whatever our wandering, our happiness will always be found with a narrow compass
And in the middle of objects more immidately within our reach.
Abigail Warstorm
30Years Old►Former Hufflepuff►Wanderer►Single-ish
╔═══════❤═══════╗
"No." she whispered, unable to let him go. She couldn't lose him now, after all that had happened. He stood abruptly, and she rolled off of him, alone on the bed. "No, Remington. I'm not scared. I've been through a lot. Very little can scare me. Don't leave, Remington, don't." This wasn't happening. He wasn't leaving her like this. She cared little for his other children or their mothers, but she did care for him. The others didn't bother her, but his disappearance would. Following after him, she too re-dressed herself and darted in front of him, fighting back the tears. "Please come back to me. You can't leave me like this! We can work through everything. We could be wonderful together!" In a desperate attempt to change his mind, she placed her hands on his chest, and stared up into the beautiful golden eyes, silently pleading with him.
That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
Remington Jagger Nott
We could be wonderful together! The pleading cry sent ice rattling down his bones, disconnecting at the fray between every notch of his spine until every ounce of him had been teeming with glacier tenacity, blood simply frozen. How many times had he heard that tired line? How many times had he seen these broken eyes, seeking refuge in a world she did not understand—his world.
The life underground was one restless tirade, no matter where he turned; someone would always be there, watching him. Could he truly stand to bring in one more weakness to unleash upon the world, and hold her upon a pedestal until somebody knocks her down? Of course, knowing all he knew, perhaps this was what he needed? A distraction, an alibi…. Bait.
Too many truths had been uncovered, and too many strings of red began to make connections. There was no such thing as an Icval family, not anymore. Flint’s ties within Hogwarts school—and then Rosier. There was something that the Spider wasn’t telling him, but what?
Perhaps he could force their hands… Perhaps with her.
Settling his gaze down upon his trousers as he clasped the last button shut tight and then quickly slid on his gray silken shirt before finally turning to her, and finally resting his gaze of burning gold upon her. ”Now is not the time to talk, I have much business to attend too before I’m forced to leave again,
“My shop will be in the care of Shawn Sever until I return, though, I won’t be scheduled to leave for another week….” He explained, callous and negligent, all the while fastening his tie around his neck. Curious to note, however, that Hogwarts doors would be opening once more in only one weeks’ time. ”Now isn’t the time for such trivial discussions, my sweet. We both have our troubles, do we not?
“Phelps will be expecting you; I’ll advise you not to leave him waiting.” Piling on his onyx cloak, Remington dared a scarce second to slither to her frame and wrap his heavy arms around her chin, capturing her lips within his own. ”Do be careful now.”
[[[Skip to scene in Spiny.]]]]
╔══════════════╗ Location: His loftwithAbigail ╚══════════════╝
Posted: Mon May 06, 2013 4:10 pm
That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
𝕽emington 𝕵agger 𝕹ott
”Da’, what’s that called?” Two golden little orbs bounced up from the other end of the piano where Remington had sat at. Her small little fingers glided against the gloss black paint where she could see her reflection in.
”Für Elise, my little star, it was written by Beethoven,” Remington whispered gently as he continued to play, humming along softly to the music. Cassandra smiled, wiggling into his lap and winced when he struck a few keys out of note. He continued to play, smiling down on her as her hands wrapped over his to hit every key in tune. ”Do you want me to show you how to play, little star?” He chuckled as her arms stretched to reach the keys.
”Yes please!”
”Let’s start with a song you love, hm?” He smiled and sat straight, propping her closer to the keys as he took his daughters hands and guided them over the keys as they played.”Sing me to sleep…. Sing me to sleep… I’m tired, and I…. I want to go to bed… Sing me to sleep… Sing me to sleep… And then leave me alone….”
alfons marcusflint head potioneer of the most extraordinary society of potioneers
I came to gaze upon the stars, when they were yet unborn And consequently, tear at my old scars, and the mask I had outworn Grow me a garden of roses Paint me the colors of sky and rain but healing doesn't seem to happen when you hide away the seed And so I came across the medicine man, and he showed me what I'd forlorn For if I'm stayed it happens by my own hand, and my own voice full of scorn Teach me to speak with their voices Show me the way and I'll try again
- -The air was thick as the aged wizard stood in front of a door he had never seen before - molten eyes examining the detailing of the wood. A thick coat over his shoulders and a sigh pregnant in his throat he closed his eyes and cleared his mind before bringing his hand up to rap his knuckles on the entrance. He dared not open his tired eyes again until the door opened - if it opened. It had been far longer than he cared to acknowledge since he wasn't absolutely keen on grasping every detail the world had to offer. Every flaw and speck of information he could somehow use to save himself and keep his foot elevated in the spiral of insanity that is reality. To keep his guard up and his focus sharp. He no longer needed this - so quickly and so quietly had the vice grip of constant fear and anxiety left him it was almost shocking. It had been there, so familiar and terrifying, for years and now it was gone. As though it had never been there to begin with - fear of a thing a man should never have to fear. However he knew it had been real, as unreal as it had all seemed, his reminder framed in the same vivid red and sharp mind. But instead of that loathing was now a joy he had never experienced. A happiness he had never dreamed of and a peace he was still uncomfortable with. He wondered if she would arrive to join in this odd visit as he had asked her to. - -
That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
𝕽emington 𝕵agger 𝕹ott
A deafening echo resounded in his ears and all at once, a clash of keys grinded on the piano while the memories of a different time came flooding back to him. For every knock, there was an explosion colliding against reality as if war was greeting him on his door. His muscles tensed and he was frozen, a stone carved in time, until—
”…Da?” She tilted her head back to look up, but all she could see was that thick scruff of hair that always lined his chin. She pawed up at him, tiny fingers grasping the bone of his jaw until he turned to look down at her, but she’d never see the fear cradled in those gold eyes of his. ”Do ya’ think Uncle Will’s here?”
The door; a static cold wave washed over him and he didn’t know if it was fear or relief that drowned him now… Because it was only the door…
”He’s working, little star, you know that.” It was with a chuckle that he plopped her down on the ground and gestured for her to stay in the sitting room beside the grand piano rather than follow him out to the door, after all, who knew what stranger could be lurking at his door unannounced? She obliged, but she couldn’t seem to understand why, so she crawled on her hands and knees until the very top of her head poked around the edge of the door frame separating her from the small foyer.
The door swung open, and silence was all that could be found. Slam the door, his innards screamed. Slam it and run— his heart beseeched, It’s all just a trick anyway.
”Alfons?” For once… Remington had nothing to say. Perhaps the years had stolen his reckless… Or perhaps it was change, that had.
╔══════════════╗ 39 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 194lbs Location: Home At peace with Sophie Home ♛ Office ♛ Island ╚══════════════╝
alfons marcusflint head potioneer of the most extraordinary society of potioneers
I came to gaze upon the stars, when they were yet unborn And consequently, tear at my old scars, and the mask I had outworn Grow me a garden of roses Paint me the colors of sky and rain but healing doesn't seem to happen when you hide away the seed And so I came across the medicine man, and he showed me what I'd forlorn For if I'm stayed it happens by my own hand, and my own voice full of scorn Teach me to speak with their voices Show me the way and I'll try again
- -The door opened, oiled well enough to have the hinges barely make a sound; and as it did so, so did the Flint's molten eyes reveal themselves from under pale eyelids to meet golden irses. And here he found himself confused. He was met with a fear, unhidden and stark in those pits of gold when there should have been irritation. Or disgust or loathing or anything, anything other than fear. Had fear even ever been there before? Alfons found himself waiting mutely to see if the normal - the comfortable - anger would return to them. When it didn't he blinked and tried to step past it, write it off when he knew he couldn't. "Hello Remington, I am sorry to drop in on you with no word after so long. I hope I am not intruding?" He offered with a strong and trained smile that now felt so alien on his thin lips. Strange, it had been the only emotion that ever resided there - forced and proper and everything but sincere - but now, with only a few months, it had been banished. He wondered how much he had changed to those he would see now - how not only his age had taken him but his new companion had enriched him. His eyes, the bags under them, the crinkled by his cheeks from smiling - truly smiling. He wondered if he had changed as much as the Nott before him had seemed to. - -
That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
𝕽emington 𝕵agger 𝕹ott
The wavering reflection in his eyes simmered and cooled as the ghost from his past manifested with life and spoke with air and reason. Remington could not but blink. How long has it been? Four years, surely, at least, because he’d not seen Alfons since he’d became transfixed with Sophie’s mother, Abigail… Eyes of scrutiny transfixed on the man that’d changed, changed with new hope and new daring and unprecedented freedoms. The chains that had held his friend barren were no more, he could already see that. ”No not at all,” he nodded, absolute, quite nearly demanding, though no riddle to behold. ”Come in.” He would gesture with the smallest of nods, but now, he simply stood aside and waited, lingering only to close the door after him.
So much has changed, yes, and he didn’t even know where to begin—it all seemed to have happened so rapidly. His whole life flashed before his eyes revealing everything, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t grasp the key to lock it all away.
”They all said you were dead.” He mumbled impassively as he turned to face the man from his childhood. ”All of you.” He didn’t need to emphasize.
”Da’ who’s is him?” A petite, unfamiliar voice sang from a different room, springing up from her hiding place and hiding behind his leg, gripping the back of Remington’s robes to shield herself with for safe measure.
"Little star.... this is your Uncle Alfons.....
"Al... this is my daughter, Cassandra."
"But everyone calls me Sophie!" She sang, poking out from behind Remington's robes for just the moment before recoiling back again.
╔══════════════╗ 39 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 194lbs Location: Home At peace with Sophie Home ♛ Office ♛ Island ╚══════════════╝
alfons marcusflint head potioneer of the most extraordinary society of potioneers
I came to gaze upon the stars, when they were yet unborn And consequently, tear at my old scars, and the mask I had outworn Grow me a garden of roses Paint me the colors of sky and rain but healing doesn't seem to happen when you hide away the seed And so I came across the medicine man, and he showed me what I'd forlorn For if I'm stayed it happens by my own hand, and my own voice full of scorn Teach me to speak with their voices Show me the way and I'll try again
- -Alfons took to greeting and offer and took the step into the loft, taking in a quick glance of the foyer. "Thank you." He brushed his shoes of any dirty and grime they may be carrying from his travel here and took every politeness as he stepped into Remington home. It was not until that moment that he was suddenly surprised the younger man did not live in the esteemed Nott castle. But with quick memory he was reminded why there ought not be any surprise - instead Alfons simply smiled to the man, hearing his next words. He wondered how he would have responded once, in his old setting, but now he chuckled under his breath and looked away. Seeing nothing in front of him or in reality, instead the thoughts Remmy's words lead him to. The memories and the reliving of just how close they had come to being dead so many terrible times. "We weren't too far from it, a few times," he stated, quickly picking up on Remington's implication and running with it, "But that was also the point - the cover. But we are back now, back home. And it is nice to be back." he ended with a quaint smile and a ponder of whether Remington knew the depths he was meaning. The sudden flash of a golden head and musical voice caught his attention and he looked over, and down. "Oh..." and as Remington explained he simply stared at the small, beautiful thing. Eyes wide and fiery with a sudden need to protect and know everything of this new creature, instead he looked up to its father and tried to grin. Thinking of his own daughter at that age - younger even, with his own wand pointed in her face ready to take her life. Now it all seemed so desperately laughable and so terrifyingly surreal. He could not allow it to be thought of as anything but the hellish truth, though, he could not forget his sins because surely whatever god there is will not. "Remy, I didn't," but before he could finish his breathless sentence, he realized Remy hadn't either. It was so clear that this child had been a secret, now exposed. Like a wound. And instantly Alfons understood his friend's fear all too well. "She is beautiful," he whispered into the open air between the three of them before kneeling down, knees cracking. He lowered himself to the level of the familiar golden gaze the girl had and offered a warm smile and his hand in formal greeting. "It is my pleasure to meet you Miss Sophie, my name is Alfons Flint." his hair had stood at Remy's calling him uncle and he wondered if it had just been a hollow formality or a true title. It made him feel small, just like Phi's gaze and grin always did. - -
That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there
And I know the way I left wasn't fair
I didn't want to be around just to bring you down
𝕽emington 𝕵agger 𝕹ott
Slow mechanical motions whispered life into the world that’d always been dead, arising every hair on end with meticulous passion to dote on every threat that lingered toward his child. The child he almost never knew he had, the child that almost didn’t survive, but she was the one he cradled—he oft times wondered what it would have been like to father the rest of his children that were, at a time, perhaps his. But too much time had passed, too many promises broken. The fates saw to it to be cruel, to steal the only children he’d ever known for a time and hide them away, and only to steal them again. Hildegard and Chase Balford would never know him for the man he was… But Sophie would know. His flickering eyes rose to meet those molten hues, reminding him of the fire and ash he’d wrought with him all those years ago. ”Heh, had I known, I’d come bearing treacle tarts,” he mused with the roll of his eyes, that coy disposition slithering back to him.
A guiding hand safeguarded the small child’s shoulder, warning him more than comforting her, though he knew his paranoia’s were unfounded. When Alfon nearly began to explain, he hadn’t had need to cut him off, but with the small cut of his head, he’d implied it anyway. It was still festering inside of her, the disappearance of her mother. Remington hadn’t the heart to discover if she’d simply walked out, or if she passed away….
He couldn’t bear to lie to her.
Suddenly, wide twinkling eyes had taken an abrupt step out from behind Remington’s shadow. A bold, expressive face of curiosity blinked upwards at the man that had folded down neatly in front of her and she teased the ends of her blonde hair sheepishly. ”Tis very nice to meet you,” she chimed happily, just like she’d been taught to. As her gaze sought out her fathers for approval, and grinned when she spotted his subtle nod, she nearly bounced in place. ”Are you staying long? Do you want to play with me? I have soooo many toys! I can share, too. Promise!”
Remy hardly seemed surprised at all as she literally burst free from her shell. ”Sophie, dear, I think your Uncle Alfons is a little tired after coming all this way, maybe another day?”
She seemed crestfallen, if only for the moment, before her attention fixated on this new piece of information she’d been given. ”If you’re my uncle, ya, than do I have any more family?”
╔══════════════╗ 39 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 194lbs Location: Home At peace with Sophie Home ♛ Office ♛ Island ╚══════════════╝
alfons marcusflint head potioneer of the most extraordinary society of potioneers
I came to gaze upon the stars, when they were yet unborn And consequently, tear at my old scars, and the mask I had outworn Grow me a garden of roses Paint me the colors of sky and rain but healing doesn't seem to happen when you hide away the seed And so I came across the medicine man, and he showed me what I'd forlorn For if I'm stayed it happens by my own hand, and my own voice full of scorn Teach me to speak with their voices Show me the way and I'll try again
- -Alfons chuckled kindly at the short exchange between father and daughter, "I would love to play with you, but your father is right, perhaps another day would be better." So strange was it to be referring such a sentence to Remington Nott. The true Slytherin from Hogwarts in face of lying and deceit and cunning. The leader of the largest underground information center and the man Alfons had so long hated for his flimsiness with women, especially with Krina. A man with dark magic and blood still staining his hands in so many ways. And now it all seemed erased, in a way, because he stood with his body shielding this tiny life that was so clearly a part of his. How people change. How these tiny souls manage to change the most loathsome of humans with only an innocent smile and the simple request for affection. "Of course you do, my dear. In fact, I have a friend who would be delighted to meet you. Would you like to play with her sometime?" He asked with sweet words and the familiar crease in his eyes smiling back at her just as strongly as his lips were. He dared not raise an affection hand towards her and her high spirits in fear of seeing that terror in Remy's eyes again. The Flint never wanted to see it again - not in eyes of gold or those of any other part of the spectrum. There had been enough fear, it was finally time for some peace. It seemed this little star had brought both.
Straightening up from his lowered position, he offered the young girl one last smile and nod before turning his eyes again to the Nott. Watching for a sign of the girl's kind dismissal or some other motion for explanation. - -
