∇ a gift to the gutter ∇

regulus black, pureblood, sixteen years old, slytherin. away; that's where you should be going. ∇ "I asked the water, our long lost friend: ‘Water, take us, we’ve gone astray’" ∇

[mister-fabian]

Black - Toujours Pur Sirius and Regulus Black

[royaltyofdarkness]

coffee shop - 17th of july, 1978.

[revolution-caradoc]

  [It seemed to Car that Regulus was very much in his own head, thinking about a decision first before acting. The slight stillness before the handshake and the apprehension of a smile, it unnerved Caradoc. The ‘I hope’ didn’t help and Caradoc held no particular expression on his face. He really didn’t know how to react, especially with how similar he looked to Sirius] I hope? [He chuckled lightly] I think I’m quite a friendly lad. I recognized you quickly, you look a lot like your brother. We went to school together although he was a few years younger than me. 

[royaltyofdarkness]

Yes, I hope. It's a positive thing, really. { He gave a small nod before taking a sip of his coffee. He thought it to be too early for mentions of his brother, but there wasn't much he could do to prevent it, apparently. He merely raised an eyebrow at the table and gave a nonchalant shrug. } Mhm, nice to know. 

[foundersofhogwarts]

Or perhaps in Slytherin

you’ll make your real friends.

[volchitsacarrow]

  "And I suppose you’re right. All skin and bones— he would not enjoy such a meal. Perhaps we should feed your brother to him instead?" Hollow smile cracked her face, half-hearted words aimed to dig under his skin. 

[royaltyofdarkness]

{ Somewhere in his gut, cold rage cut through him; in appearance, he let out a light puff of breath supposed to serve as a chuckle. Untouched. Uncaring. So used to pushing down the anger that he wasn't sure he remember what it was like to experience your emotions. }

I do believe even dogs have a better taste than that.

[mashallahmangoes-deactivated201]

The brothers share a sense of stubborn pride—heroic, in many respects, but also dangerous. Despite his best efforts, Sirius failed to protect his friends and Regulus’ theft of the Horcrux was in vain. It didn’t make any difference. Indeed, his decision not to inform Dumbledore about what he did (whatever his reasons may have been) contributed to Dumbledore’s death, weakening the fight against Voldemort by taking out one of his strongest opponents. This is Regulus’ tragedy. A boy with talent and strength spends most of his life not fully utilising his abilities, and when he finally does, it costs him his life. It’s also the tragedy of the Black brothers, so alike and yet so different, each the product of an aristocratic and unforgiving upbringing and each damaged by it in different ways. By the time Regulus realised how much he had in common with his brother, perhaps realised that Sirius had been right about Voldemort all along, it was too late—he was already facing death. And Sirius, who was so bitter and disappointed about his brother’s choices, would have undoubtedly been proud and thrilled by what Regulus had done, but died without ever knowing anything about it.

A Much Better Son: Character Essay on Regulus Black (via littlestarkbird)

[balistarius-hp]

The Black Lake

[royaltyofdarkness]

can you hear the gutter calling? ♛ 19th of june, 1978. ♛ regulus + open

[black-the-brave]

  What was it about summer rain? It tasted somehow sweeter, felt that much warmer on his skin. The days had been so long and hot as of late. Dusty. Not that he was complaining, but for a bloke who practically had his leather jacket and biker boots welded to him, the cooling temperature was a welcome relief.

Walking through the winding streets of London, Sirius was in a rather jovial mood. It’d been a while since he’d felt his spirits lift, but perhaps that was because he’d managed to get his paws on a limited edition vinyl of the Sex Pistol’s ‘God Save The Queen’ from a grimy little record shopin the heart of Camden. A purchase from a Muggle store meant he had to use Muggle money, which was an endless source of entertainment for him. If you folded a note at a certain angle, you could flip it up and down and make the Queen’s expression change from happy to sad.

-

"I’d still shag her, y’know."

"Who?"

"The Queen."

James blanched, almost spitting Butterbeer all over himself. Wouldn’t be the first time.

"What is WRONG with you? Merlin…you’re lucky your knob hasn’t fallen off from some sort of venereal infection."

Sirius shrugged a shoulder, finger tracing down the Monarch’s cheek as she smiled (coquettishly, he felt) up at him from the underside of a five quid note.

"She has bedroom eyes. Plus you know that prim and proper thing is only for the public. In private, I bet she’s one dirty bird.”

Peter shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.

"Sirius…I’m not sure you can say things like that. Isn’t it treason?"

Rolling his eyes, Black snorted.

"Please. I don’t want to kill her. Unless, y’know…she cums so hard she-"

Lily shot him a look that was akin to a quirt of lemon juice right into the eye.

"Don’t make me get out the spray bottle, eh Pads?"

"…Sorry, Evans."

-

Even the memory brought a grin to his face. That night, just a handful of days ago, had been the first in a long time when he’d felt that (in spite of their somewhat dire circumstances) everything might be alright after all. At least they could still laugh.

Making a right into Hyde Park, hair sticking to his forehead, he stopped short at the sight of a young man hunkered over on a bench as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Frowning, he drew a little closer. These were uncertain times, true enough, but this seemed like a soul in pain. Besides, it never hurt to share a good mood, right? That’s when the stranger looked up. What Sirius saw written all over him made his heart split into what felt like a million little fragments.

His baby brother, Regulus Black, was soaked to the skin, an expression plastered all over his face that Sirius knew only too well. It was the same one he’d worn for close to a week after taking his first life.

"M-Melin, Reggie…" he choked out, voice small, strangled in his throat "What have you done?"

[royaltyofdarkness]

His ears picked up one something, a certain twist of the sounds surrounding him. He didn't turn his face towards the incoming sounds, but his eyes flickered to the side. Him. Okay. 

Not okay, but he could deal. He didn't move.

His muscles were suddenly magnetic and gravity had never been stronger; he looked so frail, like a mere hint of a wind could blow him away, but in reality he couldn't think of a harder thing at the moment than movement. Like he was rotten inside, physically as much as mentally.

What have you done?

What have I done?

A slight shiver overtook his body and the water soaked his skin. He couldn't realise whether he was shaking because he was cold or was it something else.

He had taken that last step, that is what he had done. Took a leap over a cliff, severed all ties to morals, waved to them as they boarded the train and drove off to lands he will never see again. It had been exactly seven days and it gets worse with each passing second, he had signed the contract with the devil. His soul for...for what? What was in this for him, anyway? He wasn't too sure anymore, even though he felt like he used to have this knowledge. A certain sense of obligation, perhaps. He had a hard time connecting the dots in his head, what had led him here, what had he done about it, when had he decided to throw it all away, when had he said that it was okay?

He hadn't.

There had been no need, apparently. 

Murder and offered submission to a lunatic with followers seemed to be enough of an okay.

He blinked, stare still blank as he moved it to his brother's face. Only after a minute passed, he truly processed the words that had rang our previously. Such a scared tone in Sirius' voice, like he knew. What do you know, brother, do you know anything?

But you left. No, you were chased away. Would you have stayed with me if you had had the choice?

Perhaps things would be different, perhaps Sirius would leave, but Regulus would leave with him, perhaps he wouldn't be here now, a murderer, a Death Eater, a person on the brink of sanity...

Perhaps not.

What have you done?

What have I done?

I have killed a person. Watched him get tortured for a while before that. I am obeying, following, being the good son, being the heir, being a Black. Help me, get me out of here, I want to leave.

But it's too late now, isn't it?

He wanted to say it all, wanted to sob and hug his brother, cling to him like he was the last stable thing in his life. Truth was, he used to be. Now it hurt to look at him. Betrayal. Sirius was never the true blood-traitor, that was Regulus. He was the one to turn his back so quickly on his own flesh. There was something so amusingly twisted about that.

He cracked a smile, broken and bitter and empty.

"I guess I am the one that should have been disowned in the end, aren't I?"

[royaltyofdarkness]

18th of July, 1978.

My mind makes my skin crawl. I want to puke my thoughts and bleed out my doubts.

Apologies and goodbyes.

[royaltyofdarkness]

can you hear the gutter calling? ♛ 19th of june, 1978. ♛ regulus + open

It was summer. It was also a downpour. 

Rain dived to the ground, giving off loud thumps as it hit against the ground; the noise felt like silence, drowning out the natural chaos of London as it twisted the city to its own advantage. It was a magical thing in a way no actual magic could ever be -- it was so regular, so stunning, so extraordinarily ordinary. It made people run with broken umbrellas over their heads, made them seek shelter in shops and cafes, made them act as if something so beautiful could be something hideous, something to hide from.

Regulus sat in a small park just next to the road. He would rather not hide, at least not from some water falling from the skies. He was already drenched, his clothes hanging tightly from his body and his hair stuck just above his eyelashes, but there was a certain comfort in that. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, perhaps he didn't need to, but the cold water trickling down his skin felt like more of a warm blanket. His eyes closed. A serene expression painting his features and a truly relaxed demeanor were such a rare thing on him, but there he was, calm and unguarded in the middle of London, where anyone could come. But it was as if the worn down swing set and broken slides served as his palace, a bastion no one could break.

Amidst the silent noise, a scream rang out from down the street. Regulus' eye flung open as his whole body shuddered as if he had just been electrocuted. It was a child's scream, it was children playing, it was a game, it was a --

It was him. The man. On the floor. Screaming and shaking and pleading and,

and dying.

Dead.

Murdered -- he was a murderer, he had killed him, it was his lips that shaped the words, his magic that sent the curse, his soul that would pay.

His mind that would crack. His mind that cracked, like a porcelain doll with lines running all along it, warning others of how fragile it was. One touch, a graze and it would be gone. He was hanging by a thread and every new thought kept making it thinner. 

Please, no! Don't!

Avada Kedavra.

Silence.

The rain kept drumming against his skin. It sounded dull, like he was an empty.

He kept his stare in front of him, looking at something, someone, but not seeing it.

A touch, he needed a breeze, a graze, a push; he almost longed for it.

[volchitsacarrow]

  "A mere warning, dear Regulus." Amusement dwelled in those glacial eyes at the Black’s words. "It would be a pity for you to become the mutt’s next meal." 

[royaltyofdarkness]

{ A hint of his trademark half-smile played at the corners of his lips, giving off the impression of a sort of absence as always, an eternal lack of interest, while maintaining a somewhat polite demeanor. It was perhaps an odd combination, but such a typical one for him that hardly anyone payed attention to it anymore. } 

I suppose he would disagree, wouldn't he? Ah, well, I do not think he would find me too appeasing, anyway.

[royaltyofdarkness]

coffee shop - 17th of july, 1978.

[ravensdeception-deactivated2014]

  { The distinct lack of politeness didn’t bother her as her words suggested, but she couldn’t help but point it out to the better raised boy. Getting a sorry from him, alas one laced with exasperation, tilted a smile on her lips as she lifted her coffee for a sip. }

It’s a free country, or so I believe. If it wasn’t I’d curse someone out of another seat, like those who are chatting without actually drinking.

[royaltyofdarkness]

{ Nodding almost absently as Septima spoke, he brought the bitter taste of black coffee to his lips. His apology had been only a matter of manners, but he was glad to see it accepted nonetheless. }

This place tends to be next to empty; while I am pleased to see that the only cafe I find acceptable is safe to stay in business, I would rather have most of the people leave, as well. The morning is hardly a time to be so painfully loud and coffee shops are hardly a place to stay in with empty hands, I'd say.

[gaelachilyalive]

You there...

[gaelachilyalive]

  Cute. 

Was wondering if you fancied catching a drink.

[royaltyofdarkness]

Why?

[royaltyofdarkness]

coffee shop - 17th of july, 1978.

[revolution-caradoc]

  Oh, no, it’s alright. I’m Caradoc Dearborn. Graduated quite a few years ago, though it feels just like yesterday. [He extended his hand, although not certain how he would react. He really knew nothing of Regulus but Caradoc did like Sirius so he went for it]

[royaltyofdarkness]

{ An appraising stare and a few moments after, Regulus shook the offered hand, firmly like he was taught to do. } Nice to meet you, Caradoc, I hope. { An another moment of silence passed before he gave a smile -- something that looked both pleasant and unnatural on his youthful face. It was a rare occurrence, but it was morning and he hadn't slept last night, so there. }

[gaelachilyalive]

You there...

[gaelachilyalive]

  Could’ve fooled me.

You busy?

[royaltyofdarkness]

Doesn't seem like it's a hard thing to do.

Depends...what are you planning to say next?

[royaltyofdarkness]

coffee shop - 17th of july, 1978.

[ravensdeception-deactivated2014]

  It was a rare thing when Septima stepped out of her shop during the day, she usually had no need for caffeine highs or socialisation. It came to a surprise to her when she had come to her lunch with a need for the bitter taste of coffee on her lips, and even more of a change to run into Regulus at the cafe she’d chosen. "That’s no way to speak to a lady."

[royaltyofdarkness]

{ Regulus' attention sharpened on the speaker only for him to realise it was Septima and feel almost ashamed of his lack of manners. He was raised quite differently, after all. Still, as he spoke again, there was a tired tone to his voice, idly making him sound like politeness was a bother. }

Oh, I am sorry. Feel free to take a seat...as it is one of the rare ones that is not taken, it seems.

[volchitsacarrow]

“I wouldn’t pet that dog if I were you.” A warning accompanied by wry smirk. How unfortunate it would be for them to lose their fingers. “It hungers for blood.” 

[royaltyofdarkness]

And I won't pet that dog, as I am me. { A casual glance and an unimpressed tone. He was more of a cat person, anyway. }

[royaltyofdarkness]

coffee shop - 17th of july, 1978.

[revolution-caradoc]

  [It was only after Caradoc sat, quickly gazing over the boy in front of him that he realized he looked strikingly familiar. He was obviously years younger than Car but after a few more minutes of a lingering stare, he realized he was a Black. Even more so, Sirius’ younger brother. He didn’t know much about the relationship but gossip traveled fast and it traveled even faster when you were an Order member, therefore he knew the basics of what went on with Sirius and his family. He nodded politely, his large hands almost swallowing the coffee cup placed between them] Thanks. Um, Regulus, right? 

[royaltyofdarkness]

   { Regulus kept a slightly absent gaze on the man in front of him, idly twirling a spoon around his cup of coffee. He had a name somewhere, in the back of his mind, but he didn't even bother to hope bringing it to his mouth. }

Regulus, yes. I apologise, I am not familiar with your name.