Angels and Demons (Cas) CW

[Deleted]

CW: Violence (most likely), miscarriage.

She'd had six weeks to calm down from the uncontrolled rage that had brought her back to life upon meeting with Cas again. Oddly enough the idea that their next meeting was today made Lúthien ecstatic. It was a strange feeling she hadn't felt in quite some time. The last time probably had been during her earlier kill streaks, just after she'd rounded off her divorce. It was good to feel alive, and even better to know she had a chance to renew the feeling. Still, it was a huge risk she was taking and it got her heart pumping. She did not trust Cas, not even a tiny little bit. Okay, she trusted knowing him well enough that he wouldn't easily do foolish things like attempt either a hit on her life or worse, getting her caught to be sent to Azkaban again. Still, not knowing what might happen was part of the fun she felt like she'd been missing out on for years and a satisfied smile had been on her face for the past week. The locals in the village had been glad to see it, as they did not know what it meant. They all hadn't seen the things she was capable of, or they would never have allowed her warm welcome to maintain.

She'd had a drink at the bar that morning with some of her local muggle friends and was pleased they were happy for her, no matter how foolish that made them. She'd gone to the cemetery early that day and had prepared, just in case he'd been a fool after all. She was in no mood to get caught after all. Azkaban had been no fun and if the only thing she could do was plot his demise it would most certainly be more boring than the first time around. She finished her drink then and bid goodbye to her friends and headed to the cemetery, a sense of peace and rest washing over her as it always did. It wasn't good to see start of a meeting with Cas when she was high on her emotions and she had more important things on her mind as her feet walked down the small path that led her to the place she came for.

She kicked off her shoes and allowed her bare feet to touch the damp grass. She barely played, except in nostalgia. Every single lulleby was nostalgia and heartbreak in the only way she ever truly allowed herself to feel it. The fact Cas was coming didn't change that. Her black dress played around her legs as she sat herself in front of the small headstone and started playing her lulleby to her daughter. This was her own little ritual. She played as ever, a story of loss and heartbreak and the pain she felt upon losing the infant. She hadn't been old enough to sustain life, but Lúthien was more than aware she was playing to the echo of the old life she would never have had, even if things had gone better. The melody was haunting and she knew people in the small village often avoided the graveyard, as the music was heartfelt and brought them sadness.

After a while she stopped and put the flute back into the secret compartment in the headstone where it would lie safely until she returned. She could feel a presence with her, and a smile appeared on her face before she turned, her eyes temporarily flashing crimson as she knew far too well who was watching. She turned and a coy smile played on her lips. "You're late Cas. You missed the show." She stood up then, walking back to her shoes and slipping back into them, never glancing back towards the small grave she left behind. She then smiled an almost genuine smile at him. "Welcome home." She said, a suggestive undertone in her voice that suggested many things. Both alluring to the potential for his death and the suggestion that this was the aftermath she'd always leave behind. A cold and empty field of rocks and pain. Still she meant neither, but had all the fun in suggesting she meant both.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff
OOC: Here we go again!

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

1 May 2025

Six weeks had gone by shockingly quickly, but Cas had put the time to good use to prepare. It had always been his style before entering the field, whether for his curse-breaking or as part of his work with Borgin and Burke’s before becoming the owner. He never entered a situation blindly if he could help it, and this assignment, if it could be called that, was more dangerous than most. But he’d taken the most precautions that he was able to given that he was essentially moving from his turf (and the safety of Borgin and Burke’s) into what was undoubtedly her game.

He’d gone home an appropriate amount of time after their first meeting in March in order to avoid detection, although the visit had been short. There were things in Prague that he needed, information and memories from his time in Durmstrang to dig up. He’d visited his family to acquire some materials (although he hoped things wouldn’t deteriorate to the point to make the trip necessary). Family dinner had been painfully awkward, and Cas had only suffered through a few days of it before returning to the United Kingdom. And of course, he now had the Dial Back, only recently acquired and well-disguised to always be with him.

The entire two weeks before, he’d felt a sense of trepidation for the appointment, an uneasiness that fluttered between a tightness in his chest and a racing pulse. But he also couldn’t deny the anticipation he felt, how every nerve was electrified and his blood burned to get back into the uncertainty of the field. He liked where he was now – he had influence, and responsibility, and he was putting it to effective use. Cas wouldn’t trade that for what he’d had before, but there was something undeniably exciting about getting away from his desk and back into the ambiguity and danger of the big wide world. It was where he was at his most natural, in the place he found the most satisfaction – where you could only rely on your head and your guts, and if one was off then you faced the imminent possibility of failure or worse.

If nothing else, Lúthien certainly offered that. But Cas found that the danger in interactions with Lúthien were not about the immediate potential for injury or death, but rather that she awakened impulses within Cas that he had carefully worked to control since his Durmstrang days. She was a temptation in the worst (the best?) way and it disgusted Cas how interested (excited?) he was to see her again. It almost felt like all the preceding years had never happened, in some odd way, and he consistently stopped to collect his thoughts and remind himself of what had happened. He would need to ground himself before seeing her.

As the day finally arrived, Cas observed the opening of the store as usual and the lifting of some of his protective enchantments. Once he was satisfied that his assistant would be able to function independently, he left without stating where he could be found – he expected to be gone for a significant period of time. After some consideration, Cas Apparated outside town and took his time in walking through. It was mostly Muggle-inhabited, and the presence of strangers was more markedly noticed than in most places. That wouldn’t be to his advantage, but then again, nothing about this situation really was. The least he could do was get a good look at the quaint houses and locals before meeting Lúthien in the only place she was almost guaranteed to be. He’d dressed more casually than he normally would in an attempt to blend in – although he hadn’t used Muggle clothing regularly since he left curse-breaking.

He could hear the flute music before he saw her. It had always been her best way of communicating, although it had been years since he’d last heard her play. Cas maintained his distance until the music stopped – it was too personal of a moment and the music made him cautious to approach. Still, he kept his face carefully blank and his stance loose as he closed the distance between them. “Do I usually miss things?” Cas’s tone was emotionless. He knew the answer already, of course, as there was much about Lúthien that he didn’t know and many warning signs he’d missed. But it was a typical probing question of his to dig through whatever the target let slip to such an open-ended question. Even small nuggets of information could mean something later.

Cas slipped his hands in his pockets as he considered Lúth thoughtfully, with a face he finally recognized. Her words were suggestive, and teasing as usual, and he was struck with the thought that she too closely resembled a cat that played with its food before devouring it. He didn’t respond, and instead side-stepped to a new topic. “It seems your word still means something.” He swept his gaze over the empty cemetery. “Is this face still recognized around here?”

@luthien

[Deleted]

There he was, looking normal, common even. Almost like a wolf in sheeps clothing. Hiding between the muggles as though he was one of them. Well two did play that game in this particular village and he seemed more than aware of it. Every single motion was deliberate for her, but he never did anything without thinking about it for as far as she knew. It was great to see him in a place where she had more control than in his shop. It wasn't that she was ever truly uncomfortable anywhere, but some places simply channeled her typical energy patters better than others. She especially loved locations where she felt rooted because it either gave more potential for trouble or more business trying to uproot herself and see how many people it affected as she did. It tended to be many as she'd never gone from a place quietly. The only time she had was the biggest regret of her life. It had completely messed up her chances for a happily ever after on the good side of the road.

Not that it mattered now, she had found her path and loved it. The few regrets she ahd washed away easily enough in the alcohol she tended to consume. Even if it came back, it didn't really matter. She had made her choice and there had yet to be a temptation strong enough to lure her back. Then again, seeing Cas had been the most alive she'd felt in years. He brought back the idea that life was about more than seeing who could hurt the most people in the shortest span of time without killing them. Life was also very much about interactions with others and how they impacted life in ways that you didn't want to miss out on. She could feel her blood ignite with fire, something that hadn't happened in the longest time. Not since Calix, not since Jespice, not since Elijah and the days at durmstrang with the nights at summer camp. She really ought to catch up to a few people from those good old days. Perhaps Sienna would be amusing to visit? They had gotten along well enough that the other woman had attended her first wedding. Perhaps things had changed after Lúthien had fallen off the face of the planet. Callista had taken her place, that much was obvious. She'd never liked that particular hothead. Far too much of an overachiever and reacted extremely to every tiny little detail. A dramaqueen if you might. Then again, perhaps she too, was one.

His tone was very mute, up to the point Lúthien felt a twinge of disappointment. Oh well, she was pretty confident she could elicit at least a small response from him. They went way back after all. She shrugged casually at his question, as smile creeping on her lips. "Naturally." She answered good natured and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Everybody does." She didn't want to hurt or intimidate him really. Just to know that there was still something out there hanging in the air between them that both of them knew they should deny, but neither of them seemed tempted to do. He wanted to see her real face even though he knew the risks just as much as she did. She had enjoyed the interaction up to the point she'd gone for the offer, which also told a lot about her own willingness to take risks. Both were long since due to be betrayed but neither found the reward too low to fail to take the risk it seemed. She didn't stop to think what he might want from her, as that wasn't a priority for her. As long as she could get what she wanted she was more than satisfied.

She couldn't help but scoff and chuckle at his statement her word still meant something. "You have something I'm interested in. You and I both know we wouldn't be here if I'd found you as boring as most people. My word means nothing, but my interest and curiosity mean all that much more for it." She looked around, noting the silence around them and the fact that they did not appear to be watched or have company. She knew every face in this town so even somebody in disguise would have stood out to her. "And luckily for the both of us, your word means as much as my interest does." She said with a slight smile.

He got down to business and she leaned against the headstone of her daughters grave casually. "Business already? How dull." She said and shook her head. He probably didn't even realise the significance of the location she'd chosen. She wanted him to know her loss, but she wasn't about to come clean about it easily. If he earned it, he could get a good story. "You could have considered bringing flowers." She chided him with a strange note of kindness in her voice that only ever slipped through around her little girl these days. Too bad she was far under and nothing but a beautiful reminder of the carefree days. A careful exchange of information always meant you risk putting a target on your back around Lúthien. If he noticed the grave and the drew the right conclusion there didn't have to be a problem. If the grave ever got damaged or used as a trap there would be more than just hell to pay. There would be no place safe for him to hide until she was under the surface of the earth as deep as her daughter was or had blazed in a final fire. Memories had power, as much as words did. If he had any wisdom, he was aware of that and her way of bartering. Nothing good was free, but she didn't take money as a transaction if she had her sights set on other things.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

It was easily apparent how much more comfortable Lúthien was here than when she’d last been in Borgin and Burke’s. She wasn’t easy to throw off her game, but Cas had been in his stronghold there and he knew how to manipulate his clients and work the bargain to his advantage. He was out-of-place here, and she looked right at home. He wasn’t unused to working from a disadvantage, but it required more finesse and subtlety than any other usual transaction. Even if his deals with Lúthien were far from average.

Because he knew what he wanted now. It had been difficult to collect his thoughts when she’d first walked into his shop. That conversation had been about getting through with his cover intact and without letting Lúthien walk away with any incriminating information. Six weeks later, he could safely argue that he had been successful. Now it was about business. He’d identified a use for this lead for Ouroboros, and he had his end goal in mind. The tricky part was the execution, but he was uniquely placed to handle such a difficult task. The only problem… Lúthien’s mind worked similar to his own in the construction and execution of bargains, and her price was certain to be extremely steep.

Cas watched her warily as she closed the distance between them. Her answer was short, straight to the point, and it achieved the opposite effect of what he’d intended. These little questions were meant to slip past the target’s defenses, have them betray little impulses that could assist in revealing some greater answer. But as she leaned in close to whisper into his ear, Cas inhaled sharply at her proximity and took an involuntary step back. Physical contact, or even the promise of it, was incredibly dangerous. Oh, it was different when he’d initiated it – that had been a deliberate move to evoke an incredibly specific reaction from Lúth. He’d been in control then. But when she stepped close, he felt his blood turn to fire and his heart stop for a moment. There were too many temptations there, and he needed to maintain his distance to maintain his composure.

His eyes flicked to the gravestone she chose to lean against. He needed to take a closer look, but that required being close to her again so he stayed planted in place. Her small comments about turning to business matters too soon and flowers sounded almost scolding, but Cas kept his hands in his pockets as he mulled over how to respond. He kept his tone flat as he finally said, “Everything is business, Lúthien. Curb your expectations.” She hadn’t answered his earlier question, but he was less interested in returning to that topic. It hadn’t been serious, and it wasn’t related to what he had come here for.

Speaking of…his expression was grave and his eyebrows had furrowed in concentration. He hadn’t expected to arrive so quickly to her interests and curiosities, but it was worth uncovering her initial price. He could negotiate it down, it was his talent. “I don’t believe you made your interest known at our last sale.” She’d accepted his price, but it had revealed hardly anything he didn’t already know. He itched to be direct, get to the heart of their game and ask her price. But it wasn’t how Lúthien operated, and he was learning her rules. Some clients were like that – and he needed to think about this in the terminology that he was familiar with, in the impersonal perspective he applied to all his other sales.

It wasn’t the right time to ask, so Cas approached slowly and kneeled on the ground to examine the headstones. Lúthien was leaning on one, so he carefully examined another with all the precision he would use to examine one of his artifacts. Lowering himself at such a time might be dangerous, but Lúth had said it herself – her curiosity was too strong to end the game now. He removed his wand and slowly traced a circle in the air to create a small wreath of flowers. “Family of yours?” Cas asked languidly, eyes roving over the names and dates. She’d always been quiet about her family life, but their time at Durmstrang had suggested it was turbulent. Cas himself had never shared details about his parents or siblings. Family was an anchor, and if Lúthien was anchored here, then that was worthwhile information. She’d been playing the flute earlier, and that had always been her own form of communication, so… “What were you telling them?”

@luthien

[Deleted]

Lúthien didn't exactly keep track of who won or who lost a certain interaction. Usually she didn't care too much about the details since it was far more about the pull and push between her and the other. If she could easily do both and the other was more a puppet on the string, there was nothing to be gained from a situation. Now Cas knew exactly how to ensure he didn't give her too much leeway and he usually kept such a strict composure that it only frustrated her that he was being so incredibly difficult to deal with. That made him all the more interesting and boy o boy did she long for it. She wanted the challenge in their interactions and the feeling that every choice she made could be the best or the worst of her life. She desperately wanted to trust, even if that led to being betrayed again. Even if it would destroy herself and everything she'd built for herself. She longed for the interactions that they could potentially share. She might not want to admit it but the positibility that she could fall and die was far more alluring than knowing she was in control of a situation. Power struggles were almost like a drug.

Yet even he was imperfect as he showed when he reacted to her proximity. She could feel the surge of power he gave her and knew he wasn't the only person capable of driving the other to their utter limits for a bargain. She wasn't fully sure what she wanted, but she knew she was going to strike a very difficult bargain.Then again, perhaps there was something to be gained here if she went much against expectations. It was an interesting idea, if nothing else. Maybe she could gain potential and power from swimming against the stream as she always had done. He stepped away and she barely reacted. He'd probably be aware of his mistake. She didn't smile, although the temptation to do so was strong. It was a matter of not showing her full hand before it was time to play. She merely glanced at him, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she calculated the purpose in the distance he'd created. She had gotten him on edge without a single touch, even if she'd been close enough to touch him. What could she gain if she did decide to initiate contact? A wicked grin lit up her face as he said everything was business. Oh she was about to get all up in his business, that much was certain.

"My interest..." She mused softly as she stared at him relentlessly, unblinking. She kept her expression carefully neutral, not quite sure if she had a specific goal outside entertainment and the rush of feeling alive again. Surely there were things she wanted but she never tended to plan ahead, unlike him. It was what made her moves rather difficult to predict from time to time. Impulsive but she followed through on things if she felt it. She then shrugged. "My interests are my own. Your business can easily be my pleasure, in which case my satisfaction might be payment enough." She traced the edge of the stone she was leaning against. "Or perhaps I'll decide what I plan to gain from this......transaction." She said the last word rather suggestively, the hint of a smile with a slightly raised eyebrow. If he wanted to do business he had to keep his mind open for alternative options after all.

Finally they were getting somewhere, as he asked about the graves and placed flowers. A strange sense of peace washed over her in waves as a smile but genuine smile played upon her lips. "If that is what you call it. They were my blood but I got less than a month in total, timewise. My bloodfathers parents." She stated, her voice a strange mixture of disdain and disgust along with love and admiration. She didn't say much else, as any spoken word wouldn't live up to the scenery. The grave clearly was well kept and in a better state than most. Only the very few fresh graves looked better, but these three stood out, as they looked like they had been placed yesterday despite the grass and other few signs of wear and tear to do with age.

His next question showed just how well he knew her, even if he didn't want to show it. She respected that, but only barely. She scoffed slightly as she tapped her wand on the grave she'd been leaning on and took out the flute, studying it with nimble fingers. "If you had listened with something other than your ears you wouldn't need that question, my dear Cas." She said, her voice barely more than a whisper. She looked at him then and smiled slightly as she stepped into his personal space, not meeting his eyes but close enough to be able to feel his breath on her face. She held the flute in one hand on the side of her body as she looked up at him, a peculiar calculation in her eyes. "You wanted business so here's the deal." She said, bringing up the flute between them and softly touching it against his arm. "I'll tell you anything you need to know using my own language in exchange for one singular thing." She then took a small step back, her eyes twinkling as her smile teased and she invited him in with half a playful shrug. "The only problem is that I'm not planning on telling you what I'm after and the wrong guess might lose you all you asked to know." She said and laughed a tiny silvery little carefree laugh. "Is that deal worth anything to you? It's not up for long and the next deal involves a lot more personal interaction and you don't seem to be too fond of swapping stories." She noted with a hint of sarcasm and amusment. Now this was going to be... interesting.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

There was a clear imbalance between the two already. But that was Lúthien’s specialty, in the end – finding her target, bringing him down to her level, and playing with him until there was nothing left. Cas had taken a considerable risk in continuing to pursue these interactions, in traveling to her stronghold and challenging her on her terms. That became obvious enough as he took a step back against his own will – standing too close to the fire, as it was. He’d never been in this particular position before with her, as he’d typically been a lateral attachment to her pursuits. A side character, so to speak, as opposed to her main target. The dynamic had changed, and he needed to catch up.

He was starting to understand his own limits. It was an important quality – he’d seen too many wizards get burned out of an inability to understand their own limitations. Cas mulled her words over in his mind as he looked over the tombstone, taking the brief pause to reorganize his thoughts for how the day would go. He’d come with relatively few expectations, and now the shape of the conversation was starting to form and it was necessary to re-strategize in the split second he gained from reading over the scant information available. Most importantly, her price was becoming clear.

Having gotten what he could from the tombstone, Cas stood up but didn’t move away as Lúth moved closer. The conflicting emotions on her family were present on her face and in her voice, and although the topic was only a cover for the real conversation occurring, Cas gruffly observed, “Family can be complicated.” He didn’t say any more, although his mind drifted to his own family dynamics for a brief moment. His gaze was locked on Lúthien’s, however, and he neither redirected his gaze nor shifted his stance as he watched Lúthien slink closer with her flute in hand. She was thorough in outlining her rules and the skeleton of the deal, in a manner that suggested she’d done this again and again.

It was that recollection – that he was only the latest in a series of games for Lúth – that prompted Cas to take his next risk. It was unlikely to end well – likely leading to an end to their conversation or whatever relationship the two had – but he was a businessman. And he never accepted the first offer. There was nothing that he was going to change about himself for this one interaction with such a troublesome opponent, and if rejecting her rules was what he needed to hold himself together then it was worth the price. She’d put the slightest amount of distance between them, the same type of deliberate move as when she’d moved closer, and Cas didn’t take her invitation to close the distance.

Cas smirked at her and his stance reflected his usual loose posture (he felt anything but relaxed, but he was quite skilled at wearing masks). He shook his head slightly at her. “You’ve become very talented at the game, Lúthien.” Even if the words seemed complimentary, his tone suggested a rebuke. It was how Titus had once spoken to him, and how he sometimes spoke back to Ti. Things he’d needed to hear, even if he’d hated it at the time. Lúthien’s form of lashing out was admittedly more violent than his, but he wasn’t fragile, and he wasn’t as small or as powerless as it seemed sometimes compared to her. If today ended in a duel, then he had his answer. He played a longer game than Ouroboros did sometimes (or even most wizards), and information about Azkaban’s breakout was less important to him than what he’d come here for. “But you still show too much sometimes.” He still had his wand in one hand, and with the other he pulled out a slip of paper from his back pocket to unfold slowly. She was still close enough that she could see the scribbles drawn all over.

“That’s why we spend time around children, isn’t it? No games, no lies needed. They see us differently than the rest of the world, and we can almost imagine the people we could be through their eyes. My nephew doesn’t see my darkness or the immoral things I’ve done. I’m only Uncle Cas.” He flicked his wand and the paper formed into a little paper airplane before coming to rest on the tombstone that was truly the reason Lúthien came here so regularly. She’d never said it out-loud, but he’d known Lúthien, and Calix, and the tragedy of their relationship. If she was as finished with her history as she claimed, then they wouldn’t be standing here. This was one of the largest risks he’d ever undertaken in his life. It was unlikely to end well. But he’d never shied away from danger. His rebuke persisted in the tone of his voice, although he never spoke his disappointment or inner conflict out-loud.

“Is this how you want your daughter to see you, Lúthien?” His gaze never drifted from hers, and while his tone was softer than it had ever been before the words were sharp as ice. The game was a disadvantage for him because she knew him and his impulses so well, but that road ran both ways. He continued ruthlessly, on-edge for however she might respond. “I can make any deal. No price has ever been too high for me. But in the end, even after everything, I don’t believe the same for you. Even wearing this face, you haven’t yet taken off the mask.”

@luthien

[Deleted]

Level the playing field if you want to have fun longer.

It seemed like such a simple rule, but the other team never seemed to have what it took to conquer even a little part of her territory. Cas was different, that much was evident. She merely toyed with the idea that he might accept the deal but she didn't quite expect it. If he was so easy to convince he wouldn't have managed to keep a successful business with people of the underworld. He knew the exact rules and games in a way she'd never seen before and by the Gods she loved it. He was one of the few people that could actually counter her like the intricate game of chess they played was for amusement only.

Family could be complicated, indeed. She had her own back in Austria but she rarely spoke of them. She didn't interact with them, more because she didn't want them to see how she'd ended up. For them she'd change the world and be a better person, if she was capable of it. She thought she had been while Calix had allowed her to keep that faith alive. As that candle dwindled and was blown out by the winds of time, she too dwindled and the belief she could be anything but what she worried she'd become most was blown out. She had embraced her destiny, but somehow people like Cas seemed to think there were still alternatives in the world to death and murder and destruction. She envied that in a casual way, but everything she'd believed was gone. The person she'd once been had gone. The girl that didn't speak, except when she played her flute. That had been her voice and her language for such a time that she felt as though nothing said in that other voice came from her soul. It was the voice on a walking dead that did a convincing job at being alive. The flute drew out her soul and allowed her to speak all the things she would hide without it.

She had intended for him to see the grave and for him to know her story without having to tell it, yet the fact he had caught on froze her blood to the coldest temperature it had in years. He was trying to wake up a girl that died so many years ago. By Hades and by Melody, the Lúthien he spoke to no longer was among them. She had died a very long time, alone in the woods. His compliment stood out, despite the edge. He had acknowledged this was a game to both of them, meaning only one person could truly emerge victorious. He knew what a victory looked like to him. She knew what a victory was supposed to feel like. She wasn't sure what it meant. It simply entailed getting what she desired. But what exactly was that? Did she miss the person she used to be or was she trying to prove that Lúthien was dead?

She heard his words about his nephew and smiled slightly despite herself. Children were the light while they were young, but that didn't mean they were worth saving. She hadn't moved a single muscle as he spoke, not since he'd given away that he'd seen the thing she'd wanted him to see. In the end the paper airplane went largely ignored as her eyes remained on his face, searching for the lines as he expressed his emotion. Even with that tone of voice she couldn't be certain what exactly he planned with this. Every single detail in her own actions had led to this moment, and he managed to make it his own. Nobody had been able to do that since....

She could almost feel her entire body constrict in both anger and agony, although no movement was shown on the surface. The air seemed to change around them, as if a firestorm had broken free, even if nothing showed. Lúthien had to do all she could to keep her abilities in check as the emotions struggled with all their might to break forward. She cast her eyes down at long last so he would not be able to see them. They turned pitch black, even drowning out the eyewhites for a moment as she attempted to collect herself. Her body was completely calm and seemingly very relaxed, much like his own. On the inside she barely managed to hold on to her one secret and her mortality.

"She's dead, Casimir."

Her voice came out void of any feeling and her eyes, now restored to their normal state, looked into his. It would scare anybody, how little of a soul and a person was left in them. It showed the empty shell of seeing many fleeting lives pass and not being able to feel anything, including regret or remorse, sadness or fear. Not joy or disappointment. The only thing left was emptiness and anger. "She'll never see me as anything." She then finally unfroze and there seemed to be a faint sparkle of life returning to her eyes. "Their judgements are ready. Even those of the young." She reached a hand out to him, offering him a singular small brooch of silver and gold. "Do you remember anybody apart from him that would hear what I had to say, and be able to listen?" She closed her hand around the brooch, holding on so tightly it cut into her palm and caused the blood to escape her body and wash over the small little object. "I can make any deal I wish to make." She then said defiantly as she stared at him in a despairing rage. "They already took everything that I wanted."

She took a slight step close to him then, this time not because she wanted to get to him but more because she felt he should understand. "Aut vincere aut mori. Ignis aurum probat. Dum vita est, spes est." She scoffed and tears filled her eyes for the first time in years. They had never mentioned what would happen when life would fail. All hope would fail along with it. She glanced at the blood covered brooch. Then she gently placed it back on the cold rock, not bothered to clean it first or even to stop the bleeding of her hand. "They are insane, Casimir. I can make any deal I wish, since the only thing I truly have left to lose is my own life. You can bet that it'll end with rivers of blood. Fire tests gold and if they force my hand I'll have them burn. I'll take any and all that try to stop me when my day should come and they shall suffer less than I did still. Offer me the one thing I cannot regain on my own and I'll pay in the ways I can." She then smiled and laughed, the insanity and fury shimmering in it like a tempting poison. "Too bad you can't offer me what I want, I suppose." She chuckled. "You saw what you wanted, now name your price, Casi. For once we could choose not to play games, as I'm sure you realise the front is nothing but a facade of humanity to counter the monster without a soul that lies underneath."

She looked him in the eye then, smiling a sick and twisted smile as her eyes slowly started to twinkle in the delight of being freed of pretending to be sane. Pretending she had things left to hope or live for apart from destruction. He had asked to see and she had given what he'd asked. Surely he'd realise by now that she was a danger to everybody, herself above all else. Her life was hanging by a thread in the more careful balance and he had decided to play with the scales. She wouldn't even blame him if he fled. It was the only thing to be expected. Hope? Hope was a game people played with themselves in order to pretend the world would give them a happy ending. She pretended to hope because she hadn't grown bored yet. When that day would come, the world best beware for she would bring hell to the surface of the earth until her dying breath.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

Eye contact could be dangerous. There was so much to learn about a person through their eyes, but you ultimately risked the same fate of being seen in a way that was otherwise impossible. Cas had spent years learning how to make his mind a vault, how to close himself off from the outside world and keep everything hidden safe inside him. But there was much more to read about a person through their eyes than a simple thought, and it was a risk rarely worth taking for someone with as much to lose as him. So he’d learned to be strategic with his body language, to employ just the right amount of eye contact that he could easily look away and keep his secrets to himself.

But now his eyes were locked with Lúthien’s and it felt like being trapped in a struggle that he would surely lose if he looked away. He watched as her eyes changed to an almost pitch black before regaining their normalcy, and he knew – they were at a critical juncture right now. Cas had taken his risk, he’d made his move, and if he didn’t treat every future response delicately than he’d lose. Automatically. The way Lúthien changed after her simple words – she’s dead – signaled the beginning of the end. Whatever mask she always wore, even with her true face, began to fade away and he could see the turmoil within her amid an empty field of nothing.

The Latin didn’t faze him, nor did the brooch, nor did her offer to stop playing games. He kept his eyes locked on hers, barely breathing, barely moving, as he considered how to move forward. All his calculations had to be done in that split second, and he exhaled slowly and thoughtfully before narrowing his eyes. “I can’t offer you what you want, Lúthien?” He took a final step closer to her until there was almost no space between him, and he looked down into her face and the fractured look in her eyes. “You’ve always spoken in absolutes. Ever since I’ve known you. You think you know what you want? You think you know what drives you to make every decision?” Cas clicked his tongue in disapproval and now, finally being on footing he was more familiar with, initiated the next form of physical contact. He tilted her chin up roughly to better study her face. “Life isn’t about want, Lúthien. It’s about need and you have never known what you need.”

He shook his head slightly but didn’t break his gaze away. Eye contact was dangerous, but it was also power. He wasn’t ready to relinquish his yet. His voice lowered in volume as he continued. “You claim to have no soul and yet you come here every year to remember what you had. You claim to have freedom but you’re still trapped here, as surely as if you were buried six feet under with them. How long will it take you to learn that freedom is neither about burning the past away nor idealizing it as your only chance at happiness?”

It had been the hardest lesson he’d ever needed to learn. Cas had spent so long allowing himself to be trapped into his responsibilities by his family. Fulfilling the role they needed of him until he’d almost lost all sense of his identity and who he could be. Defining himself only by the utility he provided to others. It had taken the lucky intervention of many people over many years for him to realize that his future was his and not theirs. It was taking him even longer to learn what that future could be. But it was only after even beginning that journey that he could see how trapped others still were. And for all Lúthien’s talk of freedom and chaos, she continued to allow herself to be trapped by her past. She still allowed the people in her life to maintain their power over her.

His face was stone, his words were cold as ice and tough as steel, but for once he allowed the fire in his eyes to break through to communicate the thought and emphasis behind every word. He let go of her and took a slight step back, this time not out of fear of losing his self-restraint but now because he’d found it. “My price is simple. But it’s clear you aren’t ready to pay it. You can’t pay it until you learn to let go of what you think you want so you can discover what you need.”

@luthien

[Deleted]

It was strange in a way, she'd held on to some of her secrets for such a long time she almost forgot why she didn't share them in the first place. It felt like both a dagger plunged into her chest and such a relief to admit her predicament to another living soul. She'd been avoiding any sort of genuine contact for seven years by now and while she had passing moments that suggested things might happen, they never did. People didn't play her game, or they failed to play it right. Those that jumped on the chaos train got off instantly at the notion of spontaneous that had a huge impact on their life. Those that attempted to fight back to prove just how good they were at the game bored her within moments. She'd kept in contact with so few people over the years that she wondered if she'd ever really allowed herself to grieve for the daughter she'd lost. For her grandparents. For the life she'd once had. She had told herself she'd moved on, but her soul had been as dead as the people that didn't manage to get away from her on time. Those that paid her bills.

Cas was different in the way that his need for the game they played between them was just as strong as her own and he didn't play to prove anything. He played because he had reason to play and had been forcing himself to get good at it. Every bit of chaos she might throw, he either manage to deflect or absorb in a way that had captured her attention and had managed to get her to talk, which was rare enough on it's own. She played games but rarely met those she could consider worthy opponents. Unlike the past person she'd played a lighthearted version with, he played on hard mode. They didn't fence with wooden swords and every wrong move could be fatal. He knew this, and yet he played with her on equal footing in a way that made her feel like not everything was lost, which was more dangerous than anything else he managed to throw at her.

He knew her, almost well enough even. There was a single thing he wasn't aware of, and that was that she knew exactly what she needed, even if she had no idea what it meant or how to get it. She needed hope, but such a thing was a concept more than a tangible thing. How to make it tangible was something that eluded her utterly and drove part of her madness forward. She longed for it. She longed to lose her mind but fought to keep it because she wasn't certain if madness was power, or simply nothing more than an attempt to escape the aspects of her life she felt powerless to change. His question suggested that perhaps he could give her what she wanted, which could be true, if she knew it in a tangible sense. How did one person give hope to another? That wasn't simple. If it was, why had nobody ever bothered to give it to her before? Back when she still believed it might have made a difference.

The absolutes made her breathe. She was aware of the grey, but it offered her no stability. If things were black and white, things seemed to make more sense. Her pain was less, her confusion bound to limitations. If she was evil, nobody could love her. If she wasn't, then why didn't they? He was on several ends, there was no doubt possible. Yet she only did listen and breathe, taking in the scent of his proximity as if to assure herself this was real. That she was actually stupid enough to take a risk such as this one. To allow somebody to get close to her core again. It was probably the most insane thing she was doing, but it seemed impossible to stop herself. She longed for the connection, perhaps he saw that too. Perhaps that was why he was destroying her so slowly and certainly.

His words cut and she took a moment to calm herself physically, allowing herself to drown in his words. They were like cold blades on her skin but the pain it caused felt familiar and welcome in a way she hadn't quite anticipated. She smiled, although it failed to reach her face. This pain was real and the words he tossed around like daggers to her heart were much deserved. The tears stopped, although she wasn't certain when they had started. She was stoic, almost like a statue as she allowed the words to kill her softly. "Sometimes..." She said in a barely audible whisper on the wind. "I wish I was there with her." Burried, in the ground. She didn't need to vocalise that as he would surely understand her meaning if he had realised she meant that she needed hope before. She wasn't sure what else to do, except for the things he suggested. How was she supposed to go forward when the wounds of the past never healed. Those scars would always be with her, be part of her. She was aware there was no going back, but she was stumbling in the dark trying to find a light to illuminate a path in the middle of an open field. She had nothing to guide her and nothing to hold on to. All she had to keep going was the thirst to make others feel her pain, as if studying how they managed to cope would teach her how to do so.

As he stepped away Lúthien had to use everything she had left in her not to show how close to actually collapsing she was. Physically and mentally. Rather than give her hope, he'd taken all she'd had left to stand on. There was nothing but darkness and his words almost echoed in her mind. She didn't care about the price, as she wasn't even certain what deal they'd been trying to make. In a way he had won the battle, or even the war. What did she have left to fight for to begin with? She didn't move, except for eventually looking at him, otherwise motionless as if she could stand there forever like the sculpted angels that kept the graves company. "Maybe." She then said, picking herself back up and refusing to allow him a complete victory. She would fight, because it was the only thing she knew how to do. "But perhaps my interest in the purchase is as lost as I am." She said and she moved, trying to hide the effort that mere shift in weight cost her as she leaned against the stone, seemingly casual and recovered, but he could probably see through it. Like a son of Hades he took after his father, playing with the powers of death like little toys.

Then she sighed deeply and passed a hand over her face. "If what I need exists and you can give it, I'll take out a loan and leave you to collect your bounty as you see fit. If ever I am to be able to pay you whatever it is you're after." She signed and gripped the cold stone a little tighter, as if holding on in order to let go. She would not be the only person aware of the loss, no longer forced to carry it alone. Maybe that would be enough. She couldn't tell Calix, but at least the little girl would have one other person to remember her. That would simply have to be enough. She took a deep breath, allowing herself to say goodbye. It wouldn't be safe to come back here either way. This entire thing seemed like a mistake. A risk she should not have taken. "Tell me, Karkaroff," She said softly to him as she looked at him a little tiredly. "Why didn't you just turn me in when I stopped by? I doubt it was out of fear or loyalty or even friendship. I can't seem to figure out why, except perhaps the game of chess we play, in which case I suspect more moves might follow before the end." She paused for a moment. "If none of those things I can't imagine what is worth the risk you're taking here. We both know that every game we play could end badly for both of us. So what could possibly be worth that? Your ego doesn't seem big enough to need a victory, as those fights are boring. So what could it possibly be?"

Although she would never voice it, she most of all wanted to know why she was worth the risk he took with everything she was and had been. Surely he wasn't here for her but because of something she had he wanted. But what could it be? That was the one thing that bothered her about this all. That she couldn't seem to figure this out. It was easier to allow that to play in her mind than to remember the defeat she suffered, even if she hadn't shown it or admitted it to herself. So what had made him decide she could be of value to him? That was an interesting and potentially dangerous notion....

Casimir Elias Karkaroff

[Casimir Elias Karkaroff]

The dynamic of the conversation had changed, but it was no less dangerous than before. The type of game that Cas and Lúthien played wasn’t one where a one-shot kill could save the day. It wasn’t even a small set of skirmishes where they clashed every time they met, because the game was constant. Never-ending. There were no boundary conditions that defined how they engaged with each other, no time-outs where one could take a breather. That would be too easy, and neither one of them ever took the easier path. No, their dynamic meant that Cas had to be on his guard all the time. If he ever slipped up – if the wrong person was seen entering his store, or the wrong message was overheard – it was game over.

That meant that their few face-to-face conversations were actually some of the safest times for Cas, because it meant more of their cards were on the table. The climax of their conversation had passed, but the possibility of a fatal error was still there and Cas was silent as he studied her. She’d chosen to lean against the stone, ostensibly in a casual move, although he could see the line of tension in her body. He gave a small dismissive shrug at her words – her loss of interest in the purchase. “The one certainty of Knockturn Alley is there’s always another deal to be made. It holds true for most things.”

He still couldn’t shake the feeling that although he’d managed to stay standing, she still held the advantage. Winning one of their little bouts of words was a meaningless victory to him – it didn’t mean anything, in the end, compared to what he still lacked. Information. How had she escaped Azkaban? How was she standing here, able to have a free conversation with him? How much did she know that he didn’t, and what could he do to change that imbalance?

These were the questions he’d been mulling for weeks. Cas wasn’t a rash actor, and he always took as much time as he needed to puzzle out the answer. But he’d spent weeks studying this new riddle Lúthien had presented to him, and it frustrated him to continue coming up empty-handed. His spell of contemplation was broken as Lúth spoke to him, voice softer and more tired than he’d heard from her in years. It was a jarring tone, coming from her, and Cas only moved slightly to forcibly relax his posture as she spoke.

Cas didn’t answer right away. It was a small gesture, one way of showing that he was turning the question over in his mind and giving it the proper consideration. There was an obvious answer here, at least to anybody who knew his secret. It would be easy to argue to anyone in Ouroboros that this was just an assignment, one he was particularly well-suited for. It was certainly what he told himself on the surface-level, that this was only about seeking more information about Azkaban and, truthfully, his father’s current whereabouts. But Lúthien wouldn’t know about Ouroboros, and there was more to it than that. Lúthien’s line of reasoning wasn’t wrong – Cas had a very limited sense of loyalty and the nature of his work meant he feared very few things. But over the last months, over the last years, Cas had begun to change. He had resisted the truth that he needed it, that he couldn’t keep on straddling the fence between the world he’d been born into and the world he’d chosen. But he was starting to settle into an internal sense of peace, that he was what he was and there was a way to accept that.

He gave her a crooked half-smile and settled next to her, mimicking her stance. “I don’t believe that people are fated to meet. Or be constantly thrown together over the span of years.” The benefit of this new stance meant there was still the physical proximity, but he could tactfully ignore her and gaze out into the graveyard instead. “But there is such a thing as a mutually beneficial arrangement. Two people who are in the right position at the right moment to be of use to each other.” She’d asked him what could possibly be worth the risk he was taking. He’d never tell her about Ouroboros or the obligation he felt to the few people in his life who deserved his loyalty.

But it was time for the next calculated risk. He was still uneasy about this one – Lúthien knew his father, after all, and the risk of revealing too much about his own past was a present danger in his mind. He didn’t dare study her immediate reaction, so he kept his gaze locked on the treeline in the distance. “You aren’t the only one imprisoned by the past. And you’re too clever not to have realized that I didn’t turn you in because I see a value to this.” Whatever this was. He finally shifted to look at her and his tone dropped in volume. It was the most direct he’d been in some time, but that’s what was needed to make a deal. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what she wanted, but he had a clear vision for what he hoped to achieve. And for that, she could ask for almost anything. “You must as well, or we wouldn’t be here. It’s time to work out terms.”

@luthien

[Deleted]

Poison and venom met in a single instance every time the two of them collided. There was no harm, nor safety in their meetings with one another. They both could kill with the wrong bite, risk poisoning when taking on the wrong offer. Neither would allow the other the quick path out and every last breath would be excruciating and more deadly than the one that came before. It was a constant dance with death and temptation where the balance was as uncertain as the life of those walking over a tightrope across the abyss itself. The howls of demons and darker things in the depths would offer no comfort and only serve to distract to bring about a faster downfall. Safety was their illusion but both could see through ever so easily. Both had long since ended their old lives where they had known each other and both had chosen a different path to tread. Somewhere in this darkness waited the comfort of certainty but it would only mingle with the worst scenario possible for either of them. It was a dangerous game and neither would probably gain any actual profit, Lúthien knew that much.

The problem was that Lúthien was tired and when she was tired she became less volatile, yet no less dangerous. She began to see the prospects fading that this conversation and this interaction would grant her something that she needed. Of all the things he could give, they all seemed to be material in nature. He did not trust her and he was right not to do so. Lúthien could feel the lethargy closing in on her, the desire to create fading and the will to just move forward start to take over. There was an anger that wanted to lash out somewhere deep within, an anger at the wrongs that had been done to her in her life. She could feel the chaos in her body building up as the calm that Casi offered her started to lose grip. Her patience was fading. A faint smile crept on her lips as he once again mentioned deals and business. Everything was to be gaining something out of nothing, wasn't it? There was no one, no one at all, never would be a friend or a lover that hadn't an eye on, or even relied on, the many tricks they could try on their partners. The hope that their lover would help them or keep them. Support them perhaps or promote them in their way of life. She couldn't exactly blame them, as she was without a doubt the same.

Yet there was a poison slowly creeping into her system that Casi would have a lot more difficulty redirecting if he managed to spot it. The tension slowly changed, more to a relaxed stance poised to lash out when handled wrong. The tired energy was slowly consuming her desire to become a better person. It was no good. She'd seen the darkness and the people in there. Those doing dark deeds but nobody dared to speak up for more reasons than were able to be defeated. Victims left and right that never got to see any kind of justice and found their entire lives hoping for it and chasing it regardless. Lives were destroyed too often and nobody could stop it. She walked among the demons and danced with them in a dance of mutual destruction. This would be her path. She would be the Unforgiving.

Yet the answer to her question was woefully unsatisfactory and her interest dissipated like fog under the sunrise. His silence on the truth screamed their goodbye to her and he was right on the truth that it was time to work out the deal they'd been working forward to. He could keep his secrets, but he would realise that came at a cost in his negotiations. Yes, he probably did not lie about having trouble with his past but she found it hard to believe that a mutually beneficial arrangement was all that stayed his hand. It couldn't be any sort of affection he felt, she wasn't convinced he cared for her person in any sort of way. He clearly didn't quite realise that she never worked for benefit of any sorts as main reason. Naturally that was the reason she wasn't gone yet, but it wasn't what she'd been after. The dance and game of chess had kept her interest, but he'd stopped taking risks that kept the game interesting. Win or lose, the result seemed bland now. As ever, Angels have Faith. She wasn't one of them.

She looked at him with a calculating glance as she tried to decide what she wanted out of this that was worth a price he was willing to pay. He was after something she could give, that much was clear. She just didn't feel like a follow up meeting so whatever it was had to be simple and not require them to meet gain in order to establish the deal had been met. She turned his words over in her head, trying to figure out what it is she wanted to get out of this meeting at this point, except to get out of it. She was starting to get bored and couldn't think of anything she wanted, although she was more than aware that it was in her best interest to lie as much as he did. She took the ring she'd 'purchased' of her fingers and fiddled with it as she considered her next move. Well if nothing else, she could make this interesting for herself. She looked at him as she smiled ever so slightly. "I've decided on my bargaining chip. I wish to know what you want in order to decide if what you can do for me weighs up to what I can do for you." Her smile was pure toxic entertainment as she looked at him. "It better be a high offer, as I don't expect you to take risks for small and trivial things." She said in an entertained tone of voice as she hid her hand that held the ring behind her back. She could feel her innate magic crawling through her skin, sharpening her nails into claws and colouring them a poisonous green in anticipation of the offer she intended to make him. Her secret still belonged to her and she didn't want to give it away. Nobody was to know that she was a metamorph if she could avoid that knowledge going public. Still, sometimes her true nature turned out a little harder to fight than she intended it to be. Best not to flaunt skills.

Casimir Elias Karkaroff