Seven

[phoenix-seven-tales]

@anthclogy

“I’ve kept notes.” 

Details. Records. Journals. She did have memories. Vials of them. She was fastidious about her collection, and in the light, all of the silver seemed to gleam and move as if containing a living thing than a relic of the past. 

She had a pensieve, of course, by necessity. She would never use it herself. Something inside of her revolted against the idea of the tangibility of her own memories. It could be she didn’t want to lose something: her perception. She didn’t want to see a difference outside of herself, lurking in that murky mess. 

“I had them charmed but don’t worry. You can read them now. Your fingers won’t fall off.”

She kidding for the most part, and she continued to un-thread the tapestry she had torn from the wall. 

“Records of all the crimes that aren’t reported to the Aurors. Family secrets. The huge power imbalance that happened after the fall...of the Dark. I’ve had a lot of time on my hands, I guess.” 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

@draconicn

from here: 

 Delphi had had this entire scenario planned out in her head….

And already, it was going wrong. The two wizards were trailing them, and while she felt a tinge of unease (fear), she kept it at bay, examining any new possibility to escape. Nymphadora Tonks was an Auror, besides—

Then she saw pure white at this revelation.

“What? No, I…”

How long? How long had Tonks known? How long had she really been the one being played for a fool? Because this was foolish. Being a metamorphmagus was her armor, her one chance for escape if she ever needed it. No one but her was meant to know! Suddenly her cards of ideas were falling down around her. She felt like pulling away but she was too numb at the moment.  An abhorrent wave of disgust rolled through her, and instead of the constant pressure of unease in her very skin, now she was afraid. Something was happening, piling up inside of her, and as Tonks gave directions and changed effortlessly—

Delphi knew she was caught out. She was suddenly too upset to think.

“That might be a problem now!” she hissed.

She forced her eyes closed and focused, focused. Her hair changed, she knew that, and she grew a bit taller. But besides that, and she began to shake–

“It’s not working.”

[chandelyer-deactivated20241003]

Everything I am, everything my sister is, comes down to this. My mother was sold, age 10, to a bawd who put her to work as a whore, Lydia Quigley.

[phoenix-seven-tales]

@ahamartia

“I’m like your teacups now.”

Delphi thought that was the right way to say it. She woke up and felt the furry ears on her head, her own gone, and she had jumped out of the bed. Rushed to the mirror. 

And screamed...

With delight. She skipped down to her mother’s bedroom but decided to wait. She went about talking to the House-elves who didn’t seem to want to look at her head. They were unnerved, she supposed, and maybe they didn’t like teacups. 

Finally her mum came down and while she wanted to act as if it were natural, she had to point to her head proudly. 

“I can turn into a kitten too!”

[phoenix-seven-tales]

@poorlittlejoseph

from here: 

Three am was always a haunting hour. 

It was always in the early morning hours that decided life and death. Delphi didn’t know why it came to be that way but she had learned the hospitals despite their massive new technology and proudly clockwork service, were less than decent in this city. She had learned that they could be a true death trap and partly--she was one of the reasons. 

She had looked at his wallet beforehand. She was one of the reasons but to those not chosen by the shadowy mafia figures for death, she was anyone’s best chance to get out of this monstrous place. 

With the drug trade and the new whispers, being in any hospital in Krimson city was a quick ticket out. She opened the door and already knew him, read him. A true stoic, after taking such a wound. She had been in the operating room, studying his unconscious figure and counting his scars while she handed the doctor the sutures. So many scars. So many self-treated scars. 

“Oh wonderful. I can tell you are on the upswing, Joseph. You can always tell in the witching hours how someone’s health will turn out,” she said. The paused, wincing. “Sorry. Once you’ve helped stitch someone up, it’s hard to be informal.” 

She looked at him, quietly for a moment. 

“How are you feeling, Mr. Oda?” 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

[ patience ] your muse telling mine to be patient . (for delphi!)

Delphi looked at her hands, thoughtfully. She had her suspicions, already, as a child. Perhaps she wasn’t what he thought she would be. Rowle had said that before, hadn’t she? 

So many times it seemed like a running stream in her head. 

“You don’t have to come for me,” she said. “If it’s ....”

She was too young to find the word and she was stepping back, rapidly. 

“Too hard.” 

Too wrong. The light in her heart was breaking and fading, and she shook her head. He didn’t want her, then. 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

@antolcgias

from here: 

“I’ve found true excellence is often both,” Delphi said, her gaze appraising. She took a drink herself, and she too could sense the room. But she could tell instantly this woman was something special. She had to wonder: did the thoughts from others (most certainly a few dark) disturb the woman more or did this silence? Delphi knew that answer, of course. 

“I used to be terrible at it,” she said. “Something clicked one day. But you --you were born with this gift, right? I can tell.” 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

@knxw-your-mxster

from here: 

Kly’tem would be the first then, to see her as her own person, and Delphi didn’t entirely know what to do with that. Her goals would divide them, but she had begun this line of questioning to know ....why. 

Now she didn’t wish to. She stared across at the open land, time flowing on by, and she tucked her cloak around her more tightly.

“You know, most people--don’t seem real to me,” she said. That wasn’t the right way to describe it. It was that word again, divided. Apart. She was staring at them from far away, feeling their emotions and knowing their pain, but she wasn’t close. She imagined young, that they all had roles. Parts. That this was a grand story instead of a dim reality. Rowle was an angry god, with all her counting of gold and she imagined all that gold could be used to weigh her down. Crush her. Her father, glorious and powerful and defeated, with the symbols of nightmares for most but not for her. She had pure love for him, but it wasn’t the same as loving a real person, with blood and pain and fear and...some good. 

“You’re the first one,” she said, “that feels differently.” 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

ahamartia:

He was keen to agree. The situation was already uncomfortable. She was playing with his hair.

Kuroh was happy to speak of Master Ichigen, despite the twinge of sadness associated with these memories. It was his first birthday without the man, and the emotions accompanying the thought were not easy to shake. There was an odd contradiction however, despite his sadness, thoughts of the man always rendered an unique sense of peace within him.

“He was one of a kind…” Unusual, even, by some of his neighbor’s accounts, regardless there remained this shared sense of respect. When he passed the entire village was in mourning. “I want to honor his lessons. I doubt I will ever equal him in skill, but so long as I remember what he taught me I will be satisfied.”

But would that not imply sharing the lessons?

She’d keep that advice to herself. This brief peace was too-well seized and yet unplanned. It was strange in her head to think about the isolation of that master and student. Was he the man’s only student? After Kuroh, no one would know about this strange man who seemed to call such respect. Oh, know the name but the actual content of the man’s life...

“How did you meet him? What made him decide to teach you?”

[phoenix-seven-tales]

ahamartia:

There had been one incident in his youth. In a life full mistakes, there was so much to regret, but this particular incident had served as a wake up call. He’d lashed out at a girlfriend with his brute strength. A coward in those days, he’d been the one to leave, unable to face her after that.

It was more than swearing to never lash out again.

He’d grown, after training and becoming the Question, fully embracing that mantle. He couldn’t claim that he was a better man now, but the tug of war inside of him was easier to control. He was less likely to lash out at the outside world, at least. Except, he’d narrowly missed Delphi.

Her fingers were ice against his over heated skin, and it felt nice. Vic was still realizing that it was a different day. His head remained bowed.

“Bad dream,” he explained, though his tone was not so convincing. “I’m okay.”

Somehow she read him, the way his head was bowed--she ran a hand through his hair. 

“I always thought I’d accidentally curse you first,” she said. “I’m glad that didn’t happen. Also changing my hands to claws. That sort of thing.” 

It was a bit off, joking, and her heart was beating quickly nonetheless. There was something she was dancing around, how love could lead to such danger. Another passing nightmare. 

She wouldn’t focus on that, and she didn’t know if she should ask the underlying dream. She would never tell if asked. 

“Bad dreams, bad memories....it means you finally fell asleep next to me.” 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

ahamartia:

“You have a long way to Master Ichigen,” he said somewhat defensively. That he couldn’t help, Ichigen Miwa was sacred. The wisdom and beauty of his words remained unrivaled. 

It would be all too easy to pull out of her reach. In the end he was taller than her, and more physically fit. Something compelled him to sit still.

“I couldn’t tell by your appearance that you knew how this is done–” Kuroh backtracked immediately, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Not that yours looks bad, I just meant… It’s…”

Wild was a good word. Like her spirit.

“Let’s move forward on that note,” Delphi said, lightly. She understood what he meant, and at the same time, it was the usual, casual near-miss of understanding. She still continued, now working to the point of perfection. “My mum has quite long hair, you know. Always up, but--.”

She shrugged. 

“I get the impression we are all a long way to Master Ichigen,” she said, and she meant it in a good way. Well, the only way she could. It was true in his eyes. “Do you want to become a Master? Like your teacher?” 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

ahamartia:

“Hmm,” he contemplated. “I can sympathize with that problem.”

A missing brain, would that be a blessing or a curse?

Despite her efforts, he was settling back into the mattress. Granted, it was chillier without the blankets, but he was far from falling back asleep. Vic was an alarmingly light sleeper when it came down to it. If she wanted him awake, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

“Looks like an FMRI scan.”

He took the book from her, sighing while examining it a little closer. 

“They scared this poor bastard, then took a picture of it,” he want on to the next image. “On the other hand, this guy doesn’t seem very scared at all. He’s thinking about something, though.”

There was a beautiful array of lights in his brain. Vic was nowhere near specialist enough to understand the specifics.

Delphi’s gaze darted to him, and she would share the blankets if tempted. But it seemed as if he would actually answer her question. She had learned not to show her frustration at being this lost. An old habit. She had been kept away from the wizarding world too, and she was beginning to accept this sliding feeling was a permanent note of her personality.

Except with him. 

So she was more patient and more free to ask questions. She did, this time, think he was joking. She touched her finger to the picture again. She did understand--as most did--that an energy did exist in the body, a sign of mysterious life. A basic defense mechanism, in fact, for many witches and wizards if attacked. But it was when they were young and rudimentary.

She also knew how potions affected the mind and senses....

However.....the implication here....

“Are you saying this shows his fear? How that emotion affects his brain, or is it how it manifests?” 

She pointed again as if for emphasis. 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

@ahamartia

from here: 

It was inevitable.

 It was something she had worried about, laying next to him with such power. She could lash out. She had before, and so sleep was an eternally difficult struggle. She should be surprised he was the one to finally make the inevitable happen. She heard his cries and when she turned in the covers, she moved just in time. His fist sailed past her and she was still caught in her own half sleep state. 

She sat up, staring at him, on edge, shocking, disbelieving...

Then she realized what had happened and reached a hand out to his shoulder. She felt the shudders, the smell of sick sweat, and she wrapped her arms around his back. 

“Vic,” she said. “Vic, you’re all right. You’re here with me. No one can get you.” 

This movement was second nature, and she took a second to understand what she had done. Simply gone to him without thinking. 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

ahamartia:

His library was diverse, some of that was attributed to personal interest. Then his good friend Aristotle Rodor had run out of space on his bookshelf, and donated the second, more impressive half of his collection. Vic had read it all, following the recommendations of his old college professor. It was fascinating stuff when he could wrap his mind around it.

More often than not it just left him with more questions.

He liked to sleep next to Delphi. It was an interesting state, only half aware of her presence, but feeling her beside him none the less. It had taken some getting used to, an acquired taste he would certainly miss if it ever went away.

He groaned sleepily, not far from consciousness when she called for his attention.

Sleepily he raised his head, hair poking out in every direction. 

“Looks like an almond.” 

…

“That’s the amygdala… What the hell are you reading?”

“Not a cookbook,” Delphi said, dryly. 

She had her foot against his, kicking at him in order to wake him up faster. 

“And I know what a brain is, Vic, I even know the anatomy of it,” she said. “I did work at a healer, you know. I needed to identify the brain in that rare case someone misplaced theirs.” 

She was kidding, of course, but she wouldn’t let him know that. Now she was working on taking the covers, bundling up in them as she propped the large book in her hand. She was tempted to balance it precariously on his head at this rate. 

Satisfied that she had captured his attention, she pointed at the signals going back and forth. Looked like bits of lightning to her. 

“What is that?” she asked. “I mean, the light colors in the brain? What is this picture implying about said almond?” 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

@ahamartia

from here: 

“Your hair is always in your face,” she said, cheerfully. The light caught on his hair and she simply reached out, and began to braid. Her hands were nimble although she never braided her own hair. She once braided her mum’s and she preferred this to a spell. 

Her own hair was wild, of course. 

“Better to see what is in front of you than the split-ends of the past. Ha! That equals any saying on your old recorder.” 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

@ahamartia

For the longest time, Delphi had held off the books in Vic’s room. She would wander by the long-winding and color-coded shelves, with a determinedly dismissive attitude. And he usually left her alone. There were times when there was too much effort for kindness or sociability in the verbal sense....but there were other ways to communicate. 

When she finally opened up one of his books, she had been showy and mocking....and then very intrigued. He was the most morbid man she had ever met, judging by this reading material. She laid besides him, looking through the forensics books first. 

Muggles had applied something called psychology to learning about those who committed murder. She read these things with a detached eye, disagreeing here--agreeing here. Ruined face? Knew the person and was personally wronged.

Had to agree there. He shifted in his sleep. 

She had moved on to methods of murder and saw the effects of some chemicals in the brain--and something really ignited her attention. She rolled over, kicking the covers aside and using them to pin him. 

“What does this picture mean?” 

[phoenix-seven-tales]

ahamartia:

She had come this far, Vic was certain that she wouldn’t abandon him so easily. In the end, she’d put their children at risk for his sake, and she would nurse him back to strength all the same. 

He wondered about what she would expect in return for this. Was it kindness? Delphi had never put much value in kindness. He’d saved her, and she dammed him out of selfishness.

 Vic smiled softly, touching her chin.

He hand’t seen anything. Emptiness. There had been pain, despair, heartbreak, isolation and then finally silence.

“My mother,” he said emptily. A woman in black retreating into the void, nothing of her face, just a blank slate.

He turned to her, she was lively, he could feel it in her, that force of life flooding through her body. It was not the same in him, not anymore.

“Was it despair you felt?” he asked, still smiling. “Did you doubt you power, even for a moment?”

Doubt. Despair. 

There had been a time when her magic wasn’t her own. She was horrible at everything and Rowle pointed that fact out gleefully for a time. It wasn’t until she discovered who she was, at age seven, and then it was as if the knowledge had unlocked a key. What she had been so afraid of was actually .....her right. 

Despair. Doubt. He was playing a game with her, now. She couldn’t believe anyone had come to greet him, and she didn’t understand the lie. She swayed a bit on her feet, a sense of dizziness overtaking her. She steadied. 

“No.”

She would have held on, no matter what happened. She wouldn’t let him slip for a minute. And that was somehow more horrible than doubt. So if they were lying now, and she didn’t want to tell the truth--

She didn’t want to let go. 

“Not for a moment.” 

Everything she had learned had been leading to this point, this single moment--right now, in this room. And what was it then?