veni, vidi, vici

Augustus Rookwood; XVII ❝ Ambition is never content, even on the summit of greatness. ❞ — Napoléon Bonaparte

[ofbrokenbonesx]

“I dunno,” Micah said hotly, still annoyed from the excessive amount of drills – in his eyes, at least – they’d been forced to run at practice earlier. “But like, maybe not wasting all of our energy at practice and saving that for the actual matches might be smart? Just a thought, though.”

[axrookwood]

      He remained impassive, unwilling to cause strife between the two teammates. Already, Augustus knew contention existed to an extent, but to eagles it was and had always been the way of their house, however it hinged on balance and he would not be the one to upset it. Diplomatic in his approach, Augustus simply nodded, addressing the complaint head on with logic.

       “ The point of such drills is to build up your endurance so that when a       match does arise, practice will have prepared you for the rapid energy               depletion. If we are to win this year, we cannot just rely on raw talent. ”  

[friedrichnietzsche]

Do not be deceived! The busiest people harbour the greatest weariness, their restlessness is weakness—they no longer have the capacity for waiting and idleness.

Friedrich Nietzsche (via friedrichnietzsche)

[gustavmalheur-deactivated201509]

art history meme. 4/7 sculptures & other media

augustus of prima porta, ca. 1st century, a.d.

During his lifetime, Augustus did not wish to be depicted as a god (unlike the later emperors who embraced divinity), but this statue has many thinly-veiled references to the emperor’s “divine nature”, his genius. Augustus is shown barefoot, which indicates that he is a hero and perhaps even a god, and also adds a civilian aspect to an otherwise military portrait.

The small Cupid (son of Venus) at his feet (riding on a dolphin, Venus’s patron animal) is a reference to the claim that the Julian family were descended from the goddess Venus, made by both Augustus and by his great uncle Julius Caesar - a way of claiming divine lineage without claiming the full divine status. (x)

[ofbrokenbonesx]

“Rookwood needs to stop scheduling so many damn Quidditch practices,” Micah muttered to no one in particular. “I literally feel like I’ve gone twelve rounds with the Whomping Willow and then had to duel the bloody Giant Squid.”

[axrookwood]

     It was said offhandedly, a casual remark meant as a springboard for casual conversation. If he had thought there was any true weight in the slight, Augustus might’ve been offended, but truthfully he doubted it. His cardinal sin was neither wrath nor pride, though he did occasionally find himself afflicted by them. Careful not to put the other boy on the defense, he then spoke levelly, inquisitive but unaggressive.

      “ Then what do you suggest we do, Bones?                           Truly, I’m curious. ”  

[thelonelestrange-deactivated201]

          The illusion clicked in again, and there he would be, tacitly, narrowed eyes swallowed up in false pretenses while hands dig into empty coat pockets. There was something dominant in his inner workings, something that nobody understands. Comprehension is futile, however, if the victim does not have enough seconds ticking by for survival. Thus, he’d remain as a constant unknown and condemn few to an eternity of misery. Still, hollow limbs cannot generate enough, or any, justifications for him to feel sympathetic of their sorrowful lives. Instead, Rabastan continues his walk forward as distant eyes watched the ground with scrutiny, careful footwork made to avoid any missteps. 

          Passive limbs surged forward while adrenaline seemingly began to vanish from his awakened form. A key they gained, but it appeared they had lost far greater than he’d assumed possible. It seems that even his closest companions, one of three, had their limits to his own iniquities. Rabastan sighed, but it sounded sharp not sweet. Returning screams haunted his ears, but the challenge is denied; he won’t swallow the vile acid burning his throat. The answer was a simple one. “I’ll remain. The sight of it is too entrancing. With the risk of myself involved, I’ll endure its harshness.” 

[axrookwood]

     Eyes cast downwards, Augustus sucked in a breath, keeping the air in his lungs until it chilled his body and time ticked by. Temper flaring up once more like a fire whose ash remnants had been poked and agitated, he stilled himself before more rash words could be said. Truthfully, at this point, he was more vexed with himself than Rabastan. In his desire to win a banal game, he had forsaken a rule he had sworn to abide by: never expect more than one can give. Similarly to Greta, he’d expected too much from the younger Lestrange, believing he’d hold them above his nature, but a hungry wolf would always kill to fill his belly. 

     Augustus’ fists bundled together as the realization hit him square in the abdomen where intuition lie abound. He had been too soft earlier and now he had revealed too much. Although all knew of the pedestal Augustus had set Octavia on, such a knee-jerk reflex had made his feelings quite obvious, a grave misstep he would later pay for. Watching Rab’s figure retreat, he merely shook his head at the snake’s response, vowing silently to never make such a miscalculation again. He had allowed his judgement to be clouded and because of that both he and his sister suffered. He knew better than to underestimate his friends — after all, Augustus had handpicked them.

[pyraliis-deactivated20160806]

     simple memory of dancing, talking with a certain someone the night previous afforded for uncensored delight. how dare he strip her of her every reservation and cultivate this very foreign, very at ease version of herself. it felt sloppy and lacking in her usual manicured grace, but simultaneously bolstered spirits like nothing ever had. particularly where augustus was concerned, the girl had significant regard for decorum– she would not let edgar bones under her skin and into her heart so easily. … not in public, at least. 

         “ or he’s a prepubescent boy, hardly immune to the veela’s pull. either way, i’m so very done dealing with children. it feels stifled, you know? undignified. i’d rather be leered after properly, than ogled by some stupid little schoolchild. “

[axrookwood]

     Propriety, the mask of the affluent, practiced since birth, worn until death, and even then they were buried with it. Such a rigid code of mores — why then did they cling so tightly to it? The answer was simpler than one would assume it to be: it lent structure and gave form. He was most certainly a subscriber to decorum and though some deemed it dated, they underestimated its necessity. Veneered mask sliding on once again, Adelaide’s formerly gleeful expression returned to its usual balance. She too understood the convenience of etiquette. Laughter pushing past his own lips, Augustus shrugged, a planned response.

        “ I certainly sympathize, but as you know, you’ve got at least            another year of this to deal with and even after that schoolchildren                   exist elsewhere. I’m afraid your future’s looking quite glum. ”  

[pyraliis-deactivated20160806]

     absolute loathing for the jovial nature of others, their insistence on butting into her personal affairs, rendered scowl prevalent upon the ravenclaw’s face. how she’d like to instill some real state of fear into the lion, though prefectal presence rendered the girl tame. although not one to flagrantly break rules, she did respect the authority held by one darling rookie; his jurisdiction merited, in the very least, her regard.

          “ – my smiles are not meant for the population at large. those that curry favor may be graced with rare vision; others, however, serve only to drive them away. he was being a prat. “

[axrookwood]

     As the young lion cub padded away, his paws pitter-pattering across the cobblestone floors back towards where his den was situated, Augustus studied the half-veela through hooded eyes, wondering what the source of her happiness was. Balls were certainly of interest to her as she was refined and full of grace, but school dances were not the opulent galas they had both attended in their youth. 

       “ Perhaps that is why he gawked, blessed with               such a rare vision, how could he bear to turn from it? ”        Though, yes, I suppose that makes him a prat. ”  

[pyraliis-deactivated20160806]

     “ it’s called a good mood, you bloody nitwit. surely you’ve seen a smile before in your miserable existence? “

[axrookwood]

     She was sharp where other girls were soft and more often than not she cut without reprieve. This time the person her jabs were directed at quivered in their red and gold robes, chivalry lost in the presence of disarming beauty. A prefect well aware of his duties, Augustus waved him off, a merciful gesture. Amused, he teased, 

        “ Certainly, but I doubt he’s ever seen you smile              which undoubtedly is something altogether          otherworldly, though apparently ephemeral as well. ”  

[thelonelestrange-deactivated201]

          It is a question that naturally rises as to why his indifference, one that burns into internal stoicism as well. Should he feed him the lie? Offer up a semblance of regret, akin to those who normally weep over inexcusable actions. That at a certain point, we all lose control of our bodies, becoming a puppet whose strings dictate every step. He could see a tinge of hurt laying wake behind those eyes, a peculiar sight. But, still, his own vision is illusory as he does not have the answers to remedy ephemeral attacks. And he won’t attempt falsehood, not with one of the few he has deemed an important figure in his volatile life. 

          Uncertain with speech, he pauses in movement to stare down at bruised knuckles. Blood was there, dried, but a continuous reminder of actions that infuriated countless. Why, they all would ask. He doesn’t know. All he understands is the thrill, the rush of adrenaline through otherwise stilled bones. There is satisfaction in each shred, every single wreckage that calloused hands can cause in softened hearts. There isn’t regret, never has been. And so, an apology is still not given, tightened muscles releasing tension as he peers up to the opaque sky. “A storm is certainly brewing,” he muses, a double entendre. 

[axrookwood]

     A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort — perhaps that was why he was so hellbent on destruction. Fists perpetually swinging around his body, hoping to catch anyone brave enough to venture closer, it was a mechanism that was necessary for survival, a reflex taught only by callous experience to the most bitter of disciples and Rab seemed to be the most learned of them all. Truthfully, it would be easy to call him a monster ( he’d probably even welcome it with open arms ), but who was truly more monstrous, he who grappled with demons or he who spoke said demons into existence?

     Wrath fading into its pale cousin irritation, formerly taut features became lax, though his expression hardly conveyed forgiveness. Augustus could not blame him for doing the only thing he knew to do, but to further indulge in it would be foolish at best. Right and wrong, although blurred in his eyes, still existed as two separate entities. Octavia had made sure they remained so. Unfazed by his use of ambiguity, Augustus simply extended its use to fit his means.

                   “ Will you move and take shelter or stand in its tirade? ”

[gretascatchlove-blog]

           Hazy mind but, still, she hears the warning hidden in his words, spoken in a metaphor for her to understand, and perhaps see sense. Instead, she clings ot her beliefs and high hopes as if they are what keeps her alive when the darkness draws closer. Sometimes it is not even naïveté which becomes her doom, but her choice to not see. An active choice made even if it hurts friends ( & herself ) in the process. For if she were to draw a line, would that not eliminate those she cared so greatly about? & thus, she sees light wherever she turns. Specks of light in dark skies, like stars, and she clings to them. Desperately. 

         One step closer, & Augustus’ hands are in his pockets. They are not friends, that she knows. They had once been friends, children running around the Rookwood garden laughing. Now, each step he took seemed calculated whereas she was like the wind. Ever changing course, never truly settling down. & form former want to take that hand, to feel a semblance of what once had been, a friendship, ceases as she looks at him. No, they weren’t friends, but she wold always remember. Remember a time when they were. 

                        The stars can’t be what they’re not, Greta.                Sudden frustration fills the blonde & she looks away.             He speaks a truth she wishes not to hear, and this is her moment               to pretend that his warning is lost to her. Even if it is not. 

      “ Perhaps not, but even stars need someone to believe in them. ”       She finishes the spliff, letting the sweet smoke fill her lungs,      cause her to disappear off into her own world for only a moment longer.      Before she gives him a smile, & starts moving towards the castle. 

                                                                             ( The end. )

[axrookwood]

— FIN

[luxe-pauvre]

Excellence is never an accident. It is always the result of high intention, sincere effort, and intelligent execution; it represents the wise choice of many alternatives - choice, not chance, determines your destiny.

Aristotle (via luxe-pauvre)

[gretascatchloves-deactivated201]

    “ If one more little flubberworm asks me for a dance, so help me Merlin ––– I will RIP out his heart with my bare hands. ”

[axrookwood]

                  “ Convivial as always, Alecto. How do you              always manage to keep such a sunny disposition? ”

[xwndrlusted-blog]

        “ I should think not. Haven’t I done everything that has been asked of me? ”         Even if I haven’t wanted to. It seemed that her tone would make up for the omission of the words. There was bitterness to it. But, she had done absolutely everything that she had been expected to do as the daughter of Julius and Amara Rookwood. For fifteen years, she has played the role that she had been expected to play as the fair-haired princess that was meant to be seen and not heard. It was such a tiring role. It was one that she couldn’t help but to believe that she wasn’t meant for.

[axrookwood]

         “ If you’re hoping for pity on my end, then I’m afraid                     you’ve underestimated both me and your          own worth. You may have a poor hand, but that does              not mean you cannot play to your advantage and win. ”                  Augustus asserted, irked again by her reaction.     

     Although disobedience was not an option, their Father had always made it clear to the both of them that complacency and self-pity damned a person far quicker than the devil ever could. Circumstance shifted as the sands in the deserts did and even if certain aspects were definite, measures could be taken to ensure the best possible outcome. However, sometime ago, Octavia had consigned herself to meekness and it was what she became, allowing her exterior to bleed inward and corrupt what had once been. She accepted her fate as it was and convinced herself that nothing but tragedy could come of it. He could not condone such an attitude.

                “ You are not Atlas and the weight you bear on                       your shoulders is not meant to be a punishment. ”

[pyraliis-deactivated20160806]

 “ i shall claim my prize at a later date, darling. as for your wardrobe, i seek only to present you as the grandiose delight you are. but come– you’ve thrown me entirely off course. let us return to the event, hm? celebratory dishing afterwards. au revour, my handsome friend. “

[axrookwood]

— FIN

[softgrungecersei]

Chapter Thirteen

[thelonelestrange-deactivated201]

               RABASTAN LESTRANGE & AUGUSTUS ROOKWOOD

“You want to know why I did what I did?“ His dark brows drew together as if he were only now allowing himself to consider this question. “Its fairly simple, actually. It’s because, without your bravery in the face of all that’s happened to you, without your constant scheming behind my back, without that fire of hatred and contempt and hope in your eyes when you look at me…” He hissed out a breath. “In the shadow my father has cast over my entire life, you are one of the only lights I can see anymore. And, whatever the cost, I refuse to let that light be extinguished.”

[theroning]

La Pianiste (dir. by Michael Haneke, 2001).