rvliance:
istudythem:
@rvlianceâ | @gravefateâ
Newt is patient, has to be patient, in waiting for an answer of some sort from the older wizard. He wanted to be fully prepared for any sort of answer he could get, and the unrestrained magic could have just as easily been aimed at himself or Credence if they had surprised the man. Intruding would have only made it all worse, and so itâs nearly easy to wait.
When they are invited in though, he releases an invisible breath of relief and is first to do so. He still keeps himself between Graves and Credence, and he still moves slowly, but there is no hesitance or uncertainty in his steps.
âNo need to apologise, magic has to go somewhere when everything else is overwhelming,â Newt gently assured, offering a small smile despite the other not looking him in the eye. Give it time, Newt. His hurt is still fresh, he reminded himself.Â
âMister Graves, this is Credence, and he and I would like to talk to you for a bit. Is that alright?â
Heâs careful to make it clear by his tone there isnât any judgment for lapse of control, and he doesnât look at the wounds or shaking hands Percival has, keeping the majority of his focus on the otherâs face in a mix of curiosity and cautious optimism. Credence remained close enough that Newtâs fingers were still touching his hand, ready to offer comfort at a breathâs notice if needed.
@gravefateâ | @istudythemâ
Fingers tighten around Newtâs fingers when he sees Graves. The real Graves. Something dark shudders inside, and crawls up. Itâs not the same man, he has to remind himself that. He has to do a double take, unlike Newt he canât help but look at the damage thatâs been done. Thereâs something broken in the man, and now Credence canât help but see the difference now. Grindelwald would never hold himself in such a way. It makes him sad, to see how much one man could make them both suffer. His stomach turns, heâs endured nothing compared to Mister Graves. Blue eyes are cast downward to his and Newtâs hand. He lets up gently so he makes sure he isnât hurting the other, itâd not been a concern until now. He swallows back the feelings of betrayal and hate, those were for another man. Not this one.    ââŠH-Hello, sir.âÂ
@rvliance | @istudythem
Hearing the name Credence made Percival freeze. That name. It echoes in his head and suddenly itâs almost as if Percival is back in the freezing darkness hearing Grindelwaldâs voice, hearing the man taunt him about using the boy to help him find the obscurial. But the boy was the obscurial. He should be dead but he wasnât. Itâs all so confusing, so overwhelming.
Percival doesnât realize he was making the room shake until a nearby vase fell over and smashed on the ground. It jolted him from the memory and he clutched his head and closed his eyes, trying to breath and calm down as he was told to do by the healers.
It seemed to take forever but his mind eventually quieted down. Percival wonders if he had already scared both of them away. He opens his eyes and finds a tiny bit of courage to look towards the two people in his room apologetically, âIâm sorry...â The apology seems weak even to his ears. He was a mess indeed and it only made him feel more useless, more embarassed.
âYes, we can talk....please...sit down...â He gestures to the chairs nearby, âHello...Credence...â







