wunderkind | (no subject)

wunderkind

STUFF GOES IN HERE

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From:

doggedly

No, it isn't, actually.

[And if he were asked, outright, why he's doing this, he might not be able to say. The answer is unclear even to him. By all rights, he should be glad to be rid of Miles Edgeworth, once and for all--or else rid of his family, no matter what he feels about fitting in, or not fitting in--

But instead he thinks of that stupid memory of breakfast, of a kid smiling at his father.]

You're not going. Quicker wand-hand or no. If Dumbledore's not going to stop you from chucking your stupid life away on this idiotic mission--one that's going to get you nowhere--then someone has to. You're not worth much but you can at least die without embarrassing yourself on some last-ditch fucking effort to play the hero.

From:

jurisimpudent

[It would be more dignified, wouldn't it, to say that he felt confusion? Or annoyance. That would be even better - annoyance at Black's arrogance, at his sudden inconvenient sentimentality. That would be the feeling that an Auror would have, or the freedom fighting hero he's trying to make himself into now - just irritation at this foolish, pointless sentiment.

But he's not a hero. Not an Auror. He's just someone who's been jealous for five years of the people who still had people to worry about them. And so he knows he has to scoff, to reject this...And yet on some level, on some incredibly stupid level, he's - so grateful.

Really pathetic. Really, really pathetic. Especially when the person he's grateful to is Sirius Black, and especially when it's couched in not worth much.

He drops his gaze.]

I'm not sure if you've noticed, Mr. Black, but it's not precisely your place to dictate what I can and cannot do. I cannot envision a way in which you'll be able to stop me.

From:

doggedly

[He snorts, a little roughly. It isn't sentimentality, he would swear to that on his life. It isn't anything that he can put words to or understand, either, it just-- is.

Something to do with being in Edgeworth's head. Something to do with understanding in a way he never wanted to understand. Something about-- that same stupid memory, that kid in the sunny kitchen, the feeling he had. Buoyant, proud, hopeful. And what remains of him, what there is-- it's such a small thing, a little corner of it is the only thing that remains. Why should he care to preserve it? It's nothing to do with him.]

Then you're underestimating me. You're not going.

From:

jurisimpudent

[And Edgeworth doesn't look up, but his lips tighten. When he speaks again, his voice is taut, strained.]

Mr. Black, I will curse you if necessary.

[But it's a weak threat. Maybe it's a deliberately weak threat. Maybe he hopes to be stopped. Pathetic as well, isn't it?]

From:

doggedly

Yeah. All right. Good luck. But standing there saying you'll curse me isn't exactly the same as doing it, y'know.

[He folds his arms over his chest, his jaw set.]

From:

jurisimpudent

[And Edgeworth hesitates a moment - and then his hand goes to his pocket, for his wand. He lifts it out, looks up, meets Sirius' eye - points the tip of his wand at the boy's chest.]

I'll turn you into a dog again. It was easy enough the first time. You know that I'll do anything to catch Dark Wizards. You know I'm capable of anything. If you don't back off, I'll do what I'd planned originally and take you with me.

[But they're staccato threats, ground out one after another, and each one has a faint air of desperation.]

From:

doggedly

[But Sirius simply stares back at him, resolute, his arms still folded over his chest.]

So do it.

From:

jurisimpudent

[The tip of the wand wavers, dips slightly. He forces it up again.]

What business is it of yours, even? You've made it clear you're not going to help us. If you're not helping us, then the only way you'll be involved in the situation is as an enemy, which means I oughtn't be listening to you at all.

From:

doggedly

[He snorts, unimpressed. Something of his haughty air has returned to him, in the way that he keeps his arms folded, and holds his head.]

You're an idiot. That's the only two ways about it, it's really so black and white as all that? I can not help you and make sure you don't get your arse killed.

Call it a favor, since you're a mental at the moment and can't seem to reason anything out or plot beyond 'suicide'.

From:

jurisimpudent

And here I thought the Blacks were only charitable towards the mad in their donations to St. Mungo's.

[Which was supposed to be sardonic, scathing, tough - but it's hard to be scathing when you're highlighting remarkably consistent generosity on someone's part. Even if the people are a bunch of hidebound racists who keep their son in emotional chains, it's still not great as insults go. He shifts, cognizant of his poor showing in the verbal battle.]

Here's the thing: you've still not explained why you care.

From:

doggedly

[He smiles, thinly--as retorts go, Edgeworth's is lacking, and he's not yet cursed Sirius or run off. Not that this is at all unexpected; he'd known nearly from the start of this stand-off that it would end this way.

Not because Edgeworth is a coward. He knows that. But he also knows so much more about him, more than he'd ever wanted to know, why he should prevent him from going--why Edgeworth wants to be prevented, really, somewhere in him, beneath even heroism. Loneliness is a stupid weakness, but Merlin, Sirius knows it.]

I don't have to explain.

From:

jurisimpudent

Yes you do. If you don't, then I'll just...ignore you.

[But his wand lowers altogether, dipping down to point at the ground. His gaze follows a moment later. There's a long moment of silence, then he says:]

It's what your parents would want, you know. Letting a mudblood run off to his death. They'd be proud to see it.

From:

doggedly

[That's the most effective thing Edgeworth has said yet, and something deep within Sirius twists--worse than a knife, like something alive twisting in his chest. His face might pale a little, and perhaps there's some hint of it in his eyes--but his mouth keeps to that firm hard line.]

You're bound to do something else entirely stupid, someday soon. You can get your death then and I'll stand by and everyone will get what they want.

From:

jurisimpudent

So why not start now?

[What's he pushing for? For Sirius to give up? Miles, in spite of everything, isn't actually suicidal. He's got grand plans and ambitions. He's driven by his need to be a hero, to stop all of it, but he doesn't actually want to die, and he doesn't...want to go there, to the party, not really. It's pride, perhaps, that keeps him protesting - and that stupid, pathetic need to hear something better than just...keeping you from your natural idiocy. Which is idiocy in its own right. It's - God, it's using his own life to some unconnected bystander into saying I care, and that's beyond pathetic, it's sick -

And it's that realization that makes him, finally, crumble. He stares down at his feet, disowns his previous challenge with a shake of his head.]

It's...Fine. I - I won't go.

From:

doggedly

[It should feel like a victory, for Sirius; it should feel like a defeat, in the name of his family and all that they stand for. It doesn't feel like anything. Sirius stares at Edgeworth and only feels a curious emptiness, one he can't put a name to.

He looks away, as if he's got to give Edgeworth some privacy. There's a muscle working in his jaw, he can feel it. He swallows, hard, and stares at some point off in the distance, a discoloured bit of stone on the castle wall.]

I'll go.

From:

jurisimpudent

[Edgeworth's gaze snaps up; he says, fiercely, immediately - ]

No.

[Which is a stupid answer. Because he's saying one of two things: either I've decided that following Voldemort is the best course of action, in which case the proper course of action is to not argue but rather to take out his wand again and curse Sirius and drag him before Dumbledore, or he's saying I'll spy for you in which case a celebration is in order, and a thank you, and a jolly good to hear let's get started. In neither case, a desperate and ferocious no, a no that brooks no argument.

He hunches his shoulders a moment afterwards, as if trying to negate that prior knee-jerk reaction.]

For what purpose would you go.

From:

doggedly

[He actually draws back a little at that no--not stung, exactly, but more surprised at the insistence of that no--and he's questioning, too (though he'd never admit it), the reason behind it, what Edgeworth could mean by barking it out like that at him.

Nothing sentimental. You're an idiot, he tells himself, and narrows his eyes at Edgeworth.]

Because I was invited. And if I don't go, they'll notice. Really, Edgeworth, use your head, for once.

From:

jurisimpudent

So they can recruit you.

[A few moments before, Edgeworth might have seemed weary, sorrowful - but there's fire in him now once more. His own fate - that's a topic that's difficult for him to grasp hold of, where it's impossible to articulate what it is that's better. But he knows what he wants for Sirius and knows what he doesn't want. And this - ]

Completely out of the question. Even if you're not going to help us, you're going to make some excuse. Say you've taken ill.

From:

doggedly

Oh, yeah, that's going to work.

[He sneers at him, folding his arms over his chest.]

You don't say you've taken ill to the chance at meeting the Dark Lord, you tit. Not in our circle. I'm going, all right, don't make a bloody thing of it.

From:

jurisimpudent

[He shakes his head in flat refusal.]

You're going, whereupon you'll either agree to serve Voldemort or be murdered. Absolutely not. No, I'm - I'll...

[He sets his jaw.]

I'm giving you a detention.

From:

doggedly

[He stares at Edgeworth a moment--and then he actually laughs, incredulous and tired and sceptical all at once.]

What.

From:

jurisimpudent

You've detention, Black. Starting at five o'clock on Friday evening and lasting until eleven o'clock. You'll be cleaning blackboards. Use of magic not permitted. Punishment for smoking on school grounds and attacking a prefect.

[His jaw is jutting out, and his brows form a stern line over his eyes. His manner brooks no argument.]

From:

doggedly

Oh, fuck you!

[He snorts, half in disbelief and half in outright dismissal.]

You can't be serious. I'm not serving your idiotic detention-- so, no, hang on, so what's your detention going to be, eh, for using magic outside of class--untested magic, a spell you wrote yourself--

From:

jurisimpudent

[Edgeworth, though, stands stalwart.]

You think I'm afraid of getting detention? Go on; tell on me. The inquiries will follow as to why I used it. The result will be the same: you'll still not be able to go.

From:

doggedly

[He would go, and be glad of it, that's the sad disgusting part. Sirius scowls, shoving his hand over his face.]

I'm skipping it entirely, then. I'm not going to-- Merlin, I thought this was what you wanted!