#quitemagic

[vampanik]

     “i seriously can’t tell if i’ve been marked as an equal, or if she’s just over there quietly plotting my second demise. thoughts? opinions?”  @quitemagic​.

[builtofsin]

     “  ––  i didn’t know you were back.  ”   @quitemagic​

[vampanik]

     “okay, so i know this is like top secret, forbidden, life or death intel, but — come on. this is  awesome,  right?” @quitemagic​.

[builtofsin]

          there’s a name for his kind that cowers on the tongue of even the bravest shadowhunter  ––  a name that was meant to have been eradicated millenniums ago.  before the accords,  before the second generation herondale,  lightwood,  blackthorn, or carstairs were ever born.  some days,  it’s a name that even alexander himself dares not to speak.   “  ––  and  you  have?  oh,  my  dear  magnus bane,  what  preposterous  suspicions have you conjured up this time?  ”

[mythscar]

           “you’re stalling.”

           “and you’re quite boring. we all have our niche, it would seem.” 

           “you warlocks,” spit like a curse, like the word is oily and holds weight, the longer it’s held on the tongue, “are all the same, aren’t you?”

           “interesting, i was just thinking i could say the same for you circle members. is that what you’re calling yourselves again? ah, wait, perhaps that question is a little above your pay grade. you’re a toddler - in circle terms, of course. you know what you’re meant to know and nothing else. hand fed from higher ups, rarely from any big man himself.” 

            roman’s jaw clenches and the warlock barely conceals a grin. bait. a test that roman counters.

           “i thought so.” 

           “you’re comfortable in your power. some would say even complacent and unguarded in your boredom, bane.”

           “perhaps, but is that a call you’re confident in making?” 

           they study one another. a long drawn out silence where roman’s left, barely tethered power bristling beneath his skin, begging to be let out in any capacity, but the rune hidden at his neck prevents it. prevents anything. he snarls and the air is electric and alive. the high warlock isn’t to be underestimated, anyone who’s heard the whispers knows. 

           but roman remains, undeterred. 

           “what are you to him?” 

           no answer.

           no answer, just a further pull on that silence. their eyes meet again and there’s a flash of something in the warlock’s eyes. a flash of amber. a flash of something other. roman’s grin is sharp, cutting quick and true.

           and still, he’s quiet.

           “i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

          “sounds like a personal problem.” 

          “yes, usually, but see - by extension, it’s now yours as well.” 

         roman sees the flicker of red, his only warning, before he’s thrown. the tentative air of civility leaves, shrinking the size of the room down to these two beings. magnus is quick, lethal, but roman’s not a shadowhunter fresh from the academy. he’s barely shadowhunter at all anymore.

         the warlock is rendered surprised when they both bleed.

[builtofsin]

     “  hey,  magnus,  i –– um ...  sorry for just  barging in  like this.  is it okay if i stay here and wait for simon?  ”     @quitemagic​

[builtofsin]

     “  wha––hey,  hands off.  i’m not your type,  remember?  ”   a quick rejoinder,  then he turns to follow behind him  (  all the while keeping an eye out for a certain friendly feline  ).   “  alcoholism.  that’s cute.  a little too  mundane,  but whatever.  i’m sure you’re making the chairman proud.  ”     @quitemagic​  /  cont.