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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Mar 13, 2016 20:03:37 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2016 20:03:37 GMT -7
Appearances were important. Both as a Ministry official and a father, Marcus had to work his hardest to keep up appearances. It was part of the reason why he wore long sleeves, and never let anyone know about what had happened to him in his childhood. It was the sole reason why he had told his children that their grandparents were both dead. Knowing that your bloodline was sullied with the taint of Azkaban would wreck his children, but even worse, it would wreck the façade that he had so carefully constructed for the outside world. They would know that he was weak, but weakness could not – would not – be abided by. Even the smallest crack in the wall would let everyone in on his charade, and then what he would be? He would be nothing, because people would rush in to take everything he had, everything he was as soon as they realized he could not fight back. That wouldn’t do.
So when the news of the kidnapping came, Marcus did what every doting parent did; he arranged a visit with his children. The time and place had been handled by the school staff, presumably because there were so many people rushing in all at once, but Marcus showed up with the same brisk punctuality he always did. He sat in a high backed chair with his right ear facing towards the door of the room, his fingers creating a steeple on the table in front of him. He had told Pansy to remain at home (the excuse being they could send news to her should anything change), and she had complied. It would just be him and his children – as it should be.
@dusti
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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Mar 13, 2016 21:41:44 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2016 21:41:44 GMT -7
Dusti knew that her parents, or at least one of them, would be coming to the school after receiving word about Raleigh. They were a well respected, influential pureblood family. They had appearances to keep up. Being the eldest of the remaining Flint children, the staff had approached her to let her know when her parents arrival would be, and where. And she'd agreed to tell her younger siblings.
She didn't tell them.
Dusti kept it from Rosaria for an obvious reason. She'd always stood between her parents and her twin, even when they were barely walking. Her protectiveness towards her younger twin was practically instinct. River though? Well, Raleigh had always protected him. He was gone though, which meant it fell on her. She had to protect both of them.
And so, here she was, standing outside the door to the room that she knew her parents would be waiting in, trying to get a feel for how they might react. Raleigh was the oldest, her father's heir. That was all her father cared about. And her mother was more interested in the influence his arranged marriage gave her, and she was probably getting a lot of pressure from the Rousseaus for the fact that not only had he been taken, but two of their daughters. Either way, Dusti was on high alert, fully aware that she would be walking on extremely thin ice the moment she opened that door. Taking a deep breath, she let all her emotion wash from her expression and body language. She'd always been good at emotionally shutting down. In her mind, it's what made her strong. Slowly she turned the door knob, and pushed the door open.
Only her father was in the room. Closing the door silently behind her, Dusti's expression didn't change as she took several steps into the room. "Father." Her voice was icy, void of the usual attachment and affection you'd expect from a child greeting their parent.
marcus
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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Mar 14, 2016 12:09:57 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 14, 2016 12:09:57 GMT -7
Marcus made a point of looking down at his watch when Dusti entered the room. Three minutes late. He looked at her for several heartbeats, letting it sink in that she had been late, and he was disappointed in her. At least she hadn’t done what Raleigh had and been stupid enough to get herself kidnapped. Pride was not something Marcus often felt, but…maybe he was a little proud of his remaining children. Speaking of which. “Dusti.” He greeted with the same detachment as she did. Maybe she was punishing him for his relative lack of contact since the beginning of the school term, but two could play at that game. Marcus didn’t intend to be bested by anyone, and especially not his own daughter. “I was under the impression that your sister and brother would be joining you.” Rosaria and River were mentioned in the letter that the meeting coordinator had sent him, and he was displeased to find that he had been lied to. What were they doing if not visiting with him? He was the most important thing in their life, bar none. He would write them a note to excuse them from their schoolwork if that was necessary, and their friends would be able to forfeit an hour of whatever trivial things they did. They belonged to him.
Having made his disdain for the situation clear, Marcus stood up so he could be taller than his daughter. He hated when he was shorter than any of his children, because height was power. Height was strength. “Your mother won’t be coming.” He informed her, in case that much wasn’t obvious. He never knew, considering all of his children seemed to have thicker skulls than the average human. “She’s waiting at home in case news of your brother comes.” The statement was a challenge, more than anything else. Tell me your brother’s weakness, and I won’t tell you yours. He still couldn’t be sure whether or not the message had been received, but Marcus had broadcast it as loudly and clearly as he could without coming right out and saying it.
@dusti
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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Mar 14, 2016 17:41:11 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 14, 2016 17:41:11 GMT -7
Dusti could practically feel the disappointment from her father. It wasn't surprising. Marcus Flint wasn't an easy man to please. Dusti met his gaze evenly, her own narrowing just a little. Dusti wasn't like her two younger siblings, Rosaria and River. She'd never back down to her parents, and it was that trait that helped teach her parents, or at least their mother, how to tell the twins apart. Which ever one looked angrier had to be Dusti.
"They don't know you're here." Was Dusti's retort, but the meaning behind it was clear. She hadn't told them, and they wouldn't be coming, whether he wanted it or not. Two could play this game. And out of all the Flint children, Dusti played it the best. In some way, she was the most like her father. An even coldness, with bursts of anger. Raleigh was the second closest, but he was to much of a hothead. His emotions had more control over him then he let on. Rosaria was, in the nicest way possible delicate, and unable to stand up or herself. And River, well... Who knew where he came from, but he was most like Rosaria.
Dusti stood a little taller as her father got to his feet, using his height to his advantage. He was on the tall side, but the twins had taken after him in that regard as well, Dusti and Rosaria only a few inches shy of six feet. The height different was still enough that she had to tilted her head just a little to meet his gaze. "And I just thought she was being fashionably late." was her sarcastic retort. She heard the hidden meaning, the challenge. Dusti just lowered her head a bit, staring intently up at her father with an intense and dark look... and kept her mouth shut.
marcus
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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Mar 18, 2016 19:59:45 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 18, 2016 19:59:45 GMT -7
Marcus had always found it interesting how much Dusti disliked him. She was his mirror in every way but physical, and he could only assume that the source of her anger was the fact that she saw her own flaws in him. It was never pleasant to see all your darkness spilled onto someone else, but Marcus had learned that he was the only one who could bleach away the bad spots. That was actually more accurate in describing why Dusti disliked him – she saw her flaws in him, and was angry when he couldn’t fix them for her. Why did she keep hoping that he would? Life wasn’t meant to be handed to people on a silver platter. Hell, she should be grateful he had given her life at all.
“That’s rather disappointing.” Marcus replied smoothly when Dusti announced her siblings didn’t know he was there. “I’m considering pulling you all from school as soon as Raleigh returns, to take lessons with your mother and myself instead. I’d be interested in hearing their opinions on the subject.” If he was honest, the idea had started out more as a bluffing threat, but as soon as it was out of his mouth, Marcus could see the merit in taking his children home for schooling. It would cut into the time he spent alone, of course, but that way he could insure his children were getting a quality education and weren’t being morally corrupted. Goodness knows the school had taken an even more liberal bent. He hadn’t thought that anyone could be more of a Mudblood lover than Albus Dumbledore, but Neville Longbottom had proven him wrong.
Marcus slammed his fist against the table when Dusti made a crack at his wife. “You will not speak in such a way about your mother!” He hissed. Disrespect would not be tolerated, even if it was the truth. “I have half a mind to send you home right now. Your mother will be waiting in the kitchen.” Marcus stared his daughter straight in the eyes. Did she honestly think he hadn’t noticed? He knew her every flaw. He had to, so he could fix her. He had to, so he could make her strong. He had to, so he could be proud to call her his daughter. Maybe he never could, but he would die trying.
@dusti
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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Mar 21, 2016 21:14:42 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 21, 2016 21:14:42 GMT -7
Dusti's eyes narrowed to slits as her father spoke of his disappointment. No surprise there. When wasn't he? Nothing she, or her siblings did was ever good enough for him. Even when they had made efforts to please their father. Dusti had stopped those efforts a long time ago. As he spoke though, her intense and angry glare turned into genuine shock for a split second. Pull them from school? Lessons from her parents? It didn't take long for that glare to be back, and angrier then effort. Her hands clenched into tight fists, slightly shaking as she tried to contain her rage. "You don't need to hear their opinions. They won't agree. None of us will." she finally managed to hiss out.
Dusti had always had authority issues, so making a jab at her own parents was a common offense. And, obviously, it usually ended badly for her. Still, as Marcus' fist met the table she didn't flinch. Due to bravery, or extreme stupidity, Dusti refused to back down. "Such a way? That's hardly the most insulting thing I could have said." Smart, Dusti. Only when he finished his thought did she realize her blunder and the girl hissed and flinched back in momentary defeat. Of course he knew... Why wouldn't he? How much he knew... she wasn't sure. He hadn't been there. Nor has her mother made it seem like she'd told him.... Dusti wouldn't have put it past the woman. After a deep breath, Dusti stood up straight again, turning back to face her father. She would not be intimidated. "You won't. Because how would it look if the great Marcus Flint sent only one of his children home?" This was beyond thin ice. Making jab at her mother was one thing, and, when lucky, could actually lack a consequence. Make a jab at her father though? "If you pull any of us from school now, you'll be running away like a coward." That was completely unnecessary to say, and would only make matters worse. But she didn't care. Dusti had never carried.
marcus (.... Dusti has a death wish.)
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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Mar 23, 2016 16:08:10 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2016 16:08:10 GMT -7
Marcus had succeeded. Dusti’s glare had broken, if only for a half of a moment. He had seen it, though, and that was all that he needed. Every crack was a place where he could dig his fingers in and pry her apart. Her hands balled into fists, and sick pleasure spread through him. He had gotten to her, just like he always had. As much as Dusti might have liked to think that she was smarter than him, he managed to get under her skin. Every. Single. Time. She could have her petty little dreams, but he would always know how to break her. He knew how to break all of them.
“I wasn’t aware that I had asked your opinion, Dusti.” Marcus said, drawing out the words as long as he could. “And if your siblings are that opposed to that idea, I would have assumed that they would have come here so they could express that opinion themselves. Their absence only indicates apathy.” Oh, he knew that there was no way any of his children could have anticipated him pulling them from school, but it was just too damn rich to see Dusti’s own actions turn around and plunge a knife into her back. She was the cause of her own downfall, not that she’d ever admit it. Little brat.
At least she still sat in the palm of his hand, whether she liked it or not. He had scored another hit with the kitchen remark, that much was obvious. She really made it too easy. His nostrils flared when she made a jab at him and his ‘greatness’. “I could collect the others easily, Dusti. I wouldn’t want any more of you to be taken, after all.” He growled. Marcus could feel the storm brewing in the air, could see it in Dusti’s eyes, but when it began to pour, he could hardly see through the red that blurred his vision. Him? A coward? At least he could stand his ground. At least he didn’t quake at the name of a room of the house. He was not weak like her.
“You seem to misunderstand the basic principles of cowardice, daughter dear.” The ds popped off of his tongue like firecrackers, aimed towards her heart. “Someone has to want to be a coward to be one. That is why you’re so brilliant at it. You've been digging your own grave, Dusti. Don't be mad at me when I bury you in it.”
@dusti
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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Mar 30, 2016 21:22:48 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Mar 30, 2016 21:22:48 GMT -7
Dusti gritted her teeth as her father so harshly stated that he hadn't been asking for her opinion. She was the oldest, next to Raleigh. It meant that she had to protect her sister. That, being the elder, it was her job. That she had to fight back for all of their sake. But as her father was making so clear, she had no voice. She was nothing more then a child throwing a tantrum in his eyes. And then he went on to say how easily he could go get them. "You'll break them if you do this. They aren't like me and Raleigh. They're innocent. I won't let you take that away from them!" She slowly responded as she took a step closer to her father. Trying to stand as tall as possible. To not cower before him like he wanted. She'd also now placed herself between him and the door, to make herself clear. That she'd meant that threat.
And then he called her a coward. Twisting her insult back on her with ease. Her eyes widened a little, but her eyebrows knitted together from the anger beginning to boil. "I'm not a coward!" She almost yelled in protest. How? How did he always do this?! Twist everything back on her with ease? "You don't know anything about me, father."
marcus (sorry it's short! D: )
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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Apr 2, 2016 17:33:34 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2016 17:33:34 GMT -7
Why was his daughter so intent upon the idea that he was doing some great disservice to his children by bringing them home? All he did was push them towards the strength they so desperately needed. He, at least, would be able to protect them from whomever it was that was so intent on kidnapping students. He was a Wizengamot member, and people quaked at the mere name of Marcus Flint. To see him in person would be more than enough to scare the robes off of most of the people who had attacked the castle. When he started hurling curses…well, Marcus was strong. He was strong, and that showed in his dueling. He would not break them if he brought them home – he would heal all of the cracks that being around the Mudbloods had made in them over the past school year. Normally, he only had the summer to do that, but some extra time wouldn’t be amiss.
“I think you’re overreacting, Dusti.” Marcus replied coolly. “And whether you like it or not, your siblings are my children. They're all underage, which places them under my protection. If I choose to pull them from school, that’s my right as a father. As I said, if they wanted a say in their fate, then they should’ve come. You have only yourself to blame.” Maybe it was repetitive, but Marcus wanted to drive home just how badly Dusti had messed up. Recognizing weakness was the only path to strength, after all. He smiled at her when she moved to stand between him and the door. She was delusional if she thought that she could actually stop him if he wanted to get through. At this point, it was just amusing to see how defiant she was of something that was entirely in his hands.
She wasn’t a coward? How quaint, that she believed that. “If I don’t know anything about you, that’s because I don’t consort with people who are unwilling to admit their own faults.” He replied. “And considering your denial of your cowardice, you fall into the category.” Marcus didn’t feel like arguing with her anymore, especially considering her shouted protests were riddled with logical fallacies. He could leave, but that would seem too much like giving up and giving in. The alternative was making her so angry that she stormed away. It wouldn’t be all too difficult to make that happen, given how poor she was at emotional control. “The more I think on the subject, the more evident the answer becomes. As soon as you’ve left I’m going to call the headmaster down and we can head home.” Checkmate.
@dusti (It's all good! I enjoy any Marcus/Dusti I can get. >D)
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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Apr 18, 2016 20:51:08 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2016 20:51:08 GMT -7
"Rusti and I aren't underage anymore." Dusti hadn't meant to throw that at him. Because those were more then just fighting words. It was a threat. To him, to his power and authority as the patriarch of the Flint family. Unfortunately, River wasn't 17 yet, which meant that, while technically Rusti and Dusti could try to get out, he was stuck. But even she knew them being of age meant nothing to her parents. After all, they'd managed to keep Raleigh under their tight grip of control, and he was a year older then the twins.
Her hand shook with anger as he, once again, denounced her as a coward. So that was it, wasn't it? What he thought of her. That she was so inferior to him that she wasn't even worth a second glance. She should be happy with that. Happy that her father didn't feel her worthy to be on his radar. But with her father? It was a verbal back hand. But now she was at a point where words wouldn't come. Her jaw stayed tightly clamped together as she glared daggers that the man known as her father. She hated him. More then any one else (except maybe her mother). And she'd never forgive him.
Dusti turned to leave, unable to stay any longer. She knew it was admitting defeat. That she was basically handing him the victory. Her hand, still trembling with rage, had almost opened the latch to open the door when he spoke again. She froze. Slowly, very slowly, she turned back to glare at him. "I would hope you make your decision carefully before speaking to Professor Longbottom, father. After all, you and mother have secrets you don't want getting out. I might just.... accidentally tell him something if you aren't careful." She threatened, her voice going deathly cold and calm. He thought he'd won. That this was over. But he'd forgotten one thing. Dusti had learned how to play this game from him. Defeat was not an option. "Even a smallest rumor can hurt your precious reputation." She didn't elaborate what she'd tell the headmaster, but that didn't matter. There were a number of truths she could share that could be devastating to Marcus and his wife.
marcus (if you want to end it with your next post, go right ahead. I don't see it lasting much longer. )
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last online Mar 29, 2024 3:33:23 GMT -7
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Apr 20, 2016 17:54:46 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Apr 20, 2016 17:54:46 GMT -7
The twins weren’t underage anymore? “Well, I never would have guessed that, Dusti, considering your most recent actions.” Marcus said, sneering at his daughter. She was acting like a child. She probably knew that already, but was being purposefully thick to annoy him. Even if she was of legal age, Marcus couldn’t ever see her leaving without making sure that all of her siblings were with her. And River was still his for another year. Marcus wasn’t afraid of his daughter, but she was sure as hell afraid of him. He could see it in the way her jaw was set, the muscles wound tight. He could see it in the way she glared at him with so much hatred. You couldn’t hate someone that much if you didn’t fear them a little, too. Marcus knew that firsthand.
She had the gall to insult him, and Marcus just laughed. “All the secrets you think I have aren’t what you think they are.” He said. Shaking his head at her. “You’re not strong, Dusti. You’re not smart. And you’re sure as hell not good at blackmail.” He spoke a good game, Marcus thought, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she had found out. He had been careful not to reveal anything to his children – they didn’t even know their grandparents were alive, or that he was half-deaf. Anything they thought they knew was probably wrong, or something that the world already knew. His secrets were already out, whether people wanted to dig or not.
Marcus rolled his eyes at his daughter, who was standing right in front of his only exit. She was even stupider than he had thought. Marcus stalked forward, shaking his head at Dusti. “You do not threaten your father, Dusti.” He said, seizing her shoulders. “Especially not on matters you know nothing about.” With that warning hanging in the air, Marcus shoved her to the side and stormed out of the room, cloak fluttering behind him like a bird that had finally been scared into flight.
@dusti
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