everything now

Rodolphus felt it the moment Nick breached the outer edge of his thoughts — clumsy still but persistent. Determined. Dangerous, in the way any weapon becomes when wielded without full control.

The thing that both was and was not Nick inside Rodolphus's mind ran its fingers through the smoke. He knew rooms like these, had a few in his own mind. Places to hide the things civilized society deemed uncouth. Places built for filthy secrets and the macabre. If he could grow older to have a mind like this, well then Nick would die happy.

"I did, yeah." Estelle had enjoyed her time in France, had enjoyed the ocean and the way summer seemed to flow differently down in the south in comparison to London and the area. "Don't have to tell you about the amount of redecorating I've done in my home afterwards, do I?" Each time the blonde had gone to France she'd come back with the need to change up her life at least a little bit.

"How the fuck are you not tripping over everything all the time in your house?" Nick asked. He only redecorated when forced, and even then he still tripped over shit on occasion. People who did it all the time must have some bruise-related death wish. Sure he'd played Quidditch back in school but that didn't mean his dexterity had stayed up to snuff.

"Maybe I just want to have some fun." He said with a shrug. This was quite the joy already. Riling up Mary's friends was always good for a laugh. What an excellent use of his free time. The look on Marlene's face was good enough to frame. "Are you sure about that, McKinnon? I'm fairly certain Mary has a bit of a crush on me, has for a while. Ask her and find out."

Evan smirked, letting out a low, mirthless chuckle. He tapped the rim of his glass, sending tiny rings of amber across the counter. “Complacent, you say? Oh, absolutely. One would almost forgive them for thinking the world still made sense.” He leaned back, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, though the grin never left his face. “But really, Nick… it’s almost too easy, isn’t it? They run about, screaming, thinking someone might save them. And we? We just… watch the theater unfold. Deliciously predictable.”

"You'd think He would want more chaos, to keep them all little trembling mice." Nick said wistfully, longingly. While he would certainly never question the Dark Lord's will, absolutely never, but he longed for more chaos in the streets. More bloodshed, more death, more terror. It called to him.

It felt like the world she built around Nick and herself was crashing down around her. Mary's mind ran with theories that punched through walls of what she thought of Nick before this. Nick had been trustworthy, helpful even. He had been someone Mary turned to in regards to her thoughts on the war and some of her friends. Mary lifted her wand to deflect whatever he would send back. When nothing came, she feared she was being tested. This time, it was not practice. Mary threw another spell, one that could slice through his skin like a papercut. "I trusted you," she said through a voice that shook harshly. "You were my friend. Why are you doing this?"

"Ah, there we go. Now we're really fighting." He said, his grin vicious and delighted all at once. How glorious this felt. This was almost as good as the first time he kissed Matt. The joy of it sang in his blood.

Marlene gave an exaggerated little sigh, as though he’d just confessed the most tragic thing in the world. “Plenty of hobbies, and yet somehow you still manage to be so tragically boring? Tragic, Nicky, really.” She lifted her glass and tipped it toward him in mock toast, a sharp smile tugging at her mouth. “Maybe try gardening. I hear it does wonders for people with control issues.”

"Gardening?" He asked with great disdain. "No thank you. If I'm going to get my hands dirty, I'd rather it not involve plants." Of course he knew she'd meant it as an insult, control issues dig and all that. Nick was insulted. She really thought he'd get all his nice clothes dirty like that? That he had the patience for a greenhouse? Absolutely fucking not. If he went somewhere hot it would be a beach.

"I don't understand," she said with apprehension, taking a step back. Nick had been her friend for many years and she couldn't think of a reason why he would be acting this strange. Mary felt a cold instinct crawl up her neck and like her heart was taking an icy run down to her stomach. She didn't even know where they were and she could feel the wind blow through an open window. There was some height to the building and Mary didn't feel safe. The two had been holding practice duels and she could easily excuse this as being an elaborate rouse for more action, but her gut told her this was something different, something more sinister. Nick was a skilled fighter, the one who had taught Mary most of the spells she could throw now. "Why are you doing this? I don't want to fight you," she managed to say as she pointed her wand at him. The first spell Mary sent was a disarming spell, taking a strong stance before she threw Stupefy.

"Sweet, gullible Mary." He said, genuine care in his voice. It was almost a shame to bring it all to an end. How on earth would he ever find another toy quite like her? She was a special breed of Mudblood, and he was fairly certain she'd developed a bit of a crush on him somewhere along the way. Adorable. She may have stood a chance if she wasn't born to the wrong stock.

where: evan's betting shop who: @nick-mulciber

Nick laughed, toasting his friend. It had been a sight to behold truly. All that beautiful panic and terrified screaming. It had made his blood sing. There was nothing else like it, nothing could compare. He felt giddy with it.

She snorted into her drink, nearly choking from laughing at his melodrama. “A hole to rot in? Please. You’d last five minutes before clawing your way back out just to whinge at me about how damp it was.” The blonde reached over and flicked his sleeve. “And for the record, if you ever actually asked me to hold your hand, I’d frame the moment. I’d make it art.”

"I could dig a hole somewhere nice and dry." Nick argued back. "Like the desert, or in your sense of humor. Might make an improvement in your jokes. What do you think?"

"I hope it's something real. That's all I really want."

Agatha’s smile widened, her eyes catching on the boyish sincerity in his words. “Stolen or not, Nicky, it still belongs to you,” she said gently. “That’s the trick of it —love doesn’t get handed out by accident. If he’s giving you those moments, it’s because he wants you to have them.”

Nick could feel himself blushing. It was the sort of thing he'd been doing quite a bit more often these days, now he had Matthieu in his life. The man wasn't even here to embarrass him and he still managed to make him blush by proxy. It was for the best Matt hadn't met Agatha or Charity.

Rodolphus didn’t so much as flinch when Nick pushed forward, though the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth could almost be mistaken for amusement. Almost. Behind the steel in his eyes and the lazy way he leaned against the table, there was unmistakable tension. Not fear — never fear — but a coiling, ready kind of curiosity.

Nick hadn't meant to find anything he shouldn't, not really. All the noise and the blood and the terror in Rodolphus's mind had been overwhelming, yes. But he also knew blood, noise, and terror. He could find a home in them. They wouldn't destroy him unless he let them. Some day his mind could be full of this much of it too.

Mary didn't know what it meant as the letter had been something about the Prophet, but Nick was here? Why was Nick here? A voice hidden in the back of her mind had the answer and it felt like a twitch inside of her that was trying to be flipped on. "I'm confused," she said, taking a step back when he walked forward, unsure what to do with this eclipsed side of him. Mary knew about his reputation and had guarded the good parts to show her friends who doubted the trust in the friendship. "Why would you send me a letter? Why are we here?"

"The letter was mostly for fun, I'll admit. If I'd asked you outright I'm sure that you would've shown up." But where was the fun in that? He liked the reveal of it, the thought that she'd expected someone else and gotten him instead. The last time he'd done something like this with her, he'd asked her in person. Now he'd gotten a different side of the experience. "Let's have a fight shall we, little dove? You win, you get to go home now and find something new to write about for your paper. I win..." Nick shrugged. "Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Charity barked a laugh so loud a couple of heads turned their way. “Oh, my Godric. That is not the visual I needed tonight, thank you very much. I’ll be scrubbing that image out of my brain with firewhisky.” She fanned herself theatrically, then leaned across the table with a wicked grin. “But also? Good for you. Truly. I’m proud.”

As much as he deeply hated to admit it, Charity had a point again. As usual. It was almost infuriating how much better she was at all of this. She wouldn't have these sorts of problems, Nick just knew it. At least he'd gotten her back a little bit, with that fucking comment. That did make him feel better.

Peter huffed a quiet laugh, more out of nerves than amusement, and busied himself straightening the gloves again, giving his hands something to do. “Multi-tasking. Impressive,” he muttered, not quite meeting Nick’s eyes this time. “Maybe write that down somewhere, so history remembers the day you mastered it.” He stepped back from the counter, gesturing loosely at the shelves lining the shop. “Everything’s on display. Curses, charms, trinkets that bite back if you’re not careful. Take your pick, or don’t. Up to you. But if you’re just here for the commentary…” Peter gave a thin smile, his tone still even but firm, “I’ve got work to do.”

"They really let you talk to customers like that?" He asked, doing his best to squash his sparking temper. Nick wasn't used to getting taunted by store employees. Most of them didn't have the nerve. How this little peon gathered enough of it was beyond him. "Fine then, your customer service is absolute shit. You mentioned biting things, which direction are those in?"

"It's actually genuinely concerning that you truly believe yourself to be funny," the witch remarked with a brow raised. She was definitely not in the mood to deal with the wizard's clear bad intentions, but she couldn't allow it to pass either. A light chuckle left her lips, shaking her head slightly. "Ah, dear, I suggest a new hobbie."

"I have plenty of hobbies." He said, flicking a piece of paper napkin at her. She wasn't falling for his jibes and that was simply heartbreaking. Yet another reason he preferred Mary. Mary fell for almost anything. It made spending time with her more amusing. Marlene was just frustrating.

"That's progress." Estelle let Nick take the bags from her but kept the one containing the snacks. Those had to be handled carefully. "I don't expect you guys to build Rome within a day. Even magic couldn't make that happen. So long as you're moving, hm?" The blonde moved toward the couch. "As for the weird part, knowing the two of you, it might just be new for one and the other - no names attached - might be worrying too much." A shrug. "I could be wrong. Not going to assume anything with you."

"Yeah yeah, suppose you're right." He said, shrugging one shoulder as he headed to the kitchen to put things away. Matt was here most nights and it was... odd. Not bad, but odd. A different version of having the dorm back. "Are you calling me a worrywort? Because, rude much." He flipped her off around the corner of the kitchen door, just so she could see it happen.