The Approaching Curve || Evan

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?Cassy?

Slytherin


Posts: 16

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 29, 2014 11:51:27 GMT -8

Post by ERIC WYATT ROSIER on Jul 29, 2014 11:51:27 GMT -8

Eric Rosier never had much to do on the weekends except for brood, if one were to be perfectly honest. Brood, have a little black out rage, and hole up and brood some more. However, he wanted to get away, get out of hogwarts and just be somewhere quiet where he wouldn't be bothered by anyone. Home is was then. His parents were there, of course, but neither have them had so much as acknowledged either of the brothers existence in years. They tended to make themselves scare anytime he was there anyway. And as an added bonus...Evan wouldn't be there..

He loved his brother dearly, but as much as he tried to make an effort to be some part of his life again, though small as it was, it tore him apart. There was only so long one could be around the person they cared most for in the world, around family, and be nothing more than a friend. No matter how close they were becoming, he was still not seen as his brother. And it killed him inside.

As he walked into their house in Poole, it was as it had ever been. Dusty, cobwebs lining the corners of the walls. Decrepit and empty. Uncared for. Forgotten. The house itself reflected the relationships of those inside in almost every way. Eric cast his bags on the floor near the door, and started busying himself with the fireplace. A few days of solitude would do him good. He may not lash out quite as badly as he had been. He'd nearly had it out with Erebos the past few days, not because he was angry with him, as Erebos was one of the few people the boy actually talked with, but in general. Erebos had simply been in his crossfire.

Silence filled the house save for the quiet crackling as the wood caught flame. That was, until he heard the front door creak and groan open. He slid his wand from his sleeve and turned around, aiming throat high at whoever was standing there. But the person standing there was the last he'd ever have expected to see there..

"....Evan..?" he whispered to himself, his hand dropping in almost an instant in shock.

EVAN WILMONT ROSIER

?Vel!?

Slytherin

SEVENTH YEAR

	Plotter
Posts: 34

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 29, 2014 13:37:31 GMT -8

Post by EVAN WILMONT ROSIER on Jul 29, 2014 13:37:31 GMT -8

Home at last. It's been far too long as he tried to remember. Finally, something snapped in the head of Evan Rosier, be it the misfired spell toward Ezra by Erebos, or the consistent interaction with Eric as a friend. But he remembered.

Blood dripped down his arms in a mixture with mud and sweat. Evan was hard at work ridding this island of all parasites, and he was just beginning to think of how nice it would be to have a small break. Reaching the front door of his and Eric's home, he adjusted the large duffle over his shoulder. The contents making an irritable sound, a sound you might hear in a horror flick.

The door had creaked open, and a demon among men stood in the entry way. The light illuminating his features. Met with the point of a wand his eyes scanned up the length of arm to the eyes. "Good evening, dear brother." The once jagged thought process was replaced with a quiet, more sure course. "What brings you all the way down here?"

ERIC WYATT ROSIER

?Cassy?

Slytherin


Posts: 16

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 29, 2014 17:53:50 GMT -8

Post by ERIC WYATT ROSIER on Jul 29, 2014 17:53:50 GMT -8

He was still in shock. Cold, electrifying shock that Evan was standing there. He was certain it had to be some sort of dream. Or maybe someone had slipped something in his drink before he got home. Something, because there was simply no way. Evan could scarcely recall his name at times let alone where they lived. Yet there he was. Standing right there as clear as an azure sky of deepest summer.

Time had seemed to stop momentarily. There he was standing like a dumbstruck fool, as though he had just lost a game of hide and seek he hadn't known he was playing. Everything frozen in an instant before going right back to normal speed the moment his brothers lips parted to speak. He was not prepared. At all. In the slightest for what came out. There was nothing that could have prepared him for it, and because of that tears pooled in his eyes before he could process.

"Br..." the word caught in his throat like a mass and he swallowed, blinking a few times before letting out in a stunned and quiet tone. "Just...needed a weekend home." he wasn't even sure if Evan was really there, or if this was another hopeful fantasy all in his head. He stepped forward, clearing the space between them slowly until they were a mere foot away, looking him over.

"W...what are you doing here..?"

EVAN WILMONT ROSIER

?Vel!?

Slytherin

SEVENTH YEAR

	Plotter
Posts: 34

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 29, 2014 19:54:24 GMT -8

Post by EVAN WILMONT ROSIER on Jul 29, 2014 19:54:24 GMT -8

And there he stood watching his little brother freeze at the sight of him. A smile curling up at the ends of his lips into his cheeks with the brightest grin. The look on his face stuck between stunned disbelief and crossing the threshold of pure adoration. Soon they were within a foot, maybe less, of each other and Evan's lips began to part.

"The weekends are getting nicer down here aren't they? Getting warmer still." It was simpleton conversation that came from the Slytherin's lips. Seventh year, having just become lucid before NEWTs exams. What they hadn't know was that ever since he was dating Integra early into his third year, all memories were completely empty and void. He put his all into that woman. Since losing her, he had to deal with the excruciating pain of realization that something was missing. Eric.

There was the question. What was he doing home? Slowly Evan brought his hand up caressing Eric's cheek and brushing away a stray tear with his thumb, smearing a strip of red across the bone like war paint. "Dear Brother." His words are soft as he looks on at the younger boy. "I've only come to take care of some spring cleaning. Seems this place is becoming decrepit and old. I can hardly build an empire without a headquarters. This will be the least likely of places they'll investigate." Evan's words flowed out smoothly and unhindered with thought, every piece of the puzzle was in place and he remembered the world.

Last Edit: Jul 29, 2014 19:55:52 GMT -8 by EVAN WILMONT ROSIER

ERIC WYATT ROSIER

?Cassy?

Slytherin


Posts: 16

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 29, 2014 20:17:15 GMT -8

Post by ERIC WYATT ROSIER on Jul 29, 2014 20:17:15 GMT -8

"Yes...yes they are. Unseasonably so sometimes." And just like that he'd fallen right into the conversation, a grin mirroring on his face involuntary at his brothers own, as though it were something they'd done everyday. In truth it had been, but years ago. Eric didn't count the conversations they'd had recently, as...it wasn't really Evan. Not the Evan he knew anyway. Those were with the lost Evan..the misplaced and confused. But looking at him now, with the blood and earth on his skin, he was his brother. The one he'd grown up with, the one he admired and adored. The one that had been so very lost to him.

The movement took him quite by surprise, making him take a breath in at the tangible feeling of his hand, his own reaching up as if to secure the truth that he was real and he was truly there. His eyes looked around softly, nodding as Evan spoke. "They don't take care of it, mother and father. They've let it fester. Ignored it. " he agreed.

While Eric had a million and one questions. How Evan had remembered, why, what made him...he wasn't going to squander the time he had now obtained with him with silly questions. He didn't care how it happened. Nor why. He had his brother back and he'd wanted that more than anything.

"Empire? What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

EVAN WILMONT ROSIER

?Vel!?

Slytherin

SEVENTH YEAR

	Plotter
Posts: 34

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 29, 2014 21:02:50 GMT -8

Post by EVAN WILMONT ROSIER on Jul 29, 2014 21:02:50 GMT -8

A soft chuckle escapes his pale and soft lips as he looks on, listening to every word his brother has spoken. Eric, he had always been there for Evan and now he wanted to make sure that it stayed that way. Though Evan would most definitely take up a higher roll in it all. "Good ole mum and dad." The sarcasm in his voice was just dripping from the words.

The warmth from Eric's hand radiated through the skin of his own, stroking his thumb over the apple of his brother's cheek again and again. "Well now, what say you we take care of them? Let them fester, rot and decay? I know you've always wanted to know if mother's heart was real. I can't help but think it's not."

The empire built upon a wasteland, a smile spread across his lips as he leans in and presses their foreheads together. "I plan on constructing a castle of bone. Destroying this world until every last human being is on their knees begging for mercy. I will soak my hands in the blood of man and paint upon a canvas for you. I will manufacture a crown made only from the finest of specimen, I will build two thrones in a great hall of death, and we will rule supreme over the unworthy." Evan paused for a moment and closed his eyes sucking in a deep breath, but keeping their foreheads connected. "And I want to crown you king of our paradise, but we must start somewhere. Why not create our foundation upon those who created us both?"

Last Edit: Jul 29, 2014 21:04:08 GMT -8 by EVAN WILMONT ROSIER

ERIC WYATT ROSIER

?Cassy?

Slytherin


Posts: 16

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 30, 2014 12:34:01 GMT -8

Post by ERIC WYATT ROSIER on Jul 30, 2014 12:34:01 GMT -8

Eric would follow his brother anywhere. Though many had only seen him in his anger and resentment towards him, what no one was around to see was when he was there. Always in the background waiting patiently but not so. Always there in some way to make sure that as lost as Evan had been, that he was still okay. For some time he had felt like the big brother. Lashing out at anyone who had an unkind thing to say about him. But now it was back to how it was, and Eric once again felt like the little brother, with someone to look up to and rely on. Something he had quite dearly missed.

As the words left his brother, a dark smile creeped on the younger boys face. To say there parents had been negligent would have been the kindest way to put it. Once they had been old enough to very basically survive on their own, their parents acted as though they hadn't any children. That Evan and Eric simply didn't exist. It only got worse once Evan had changed if that were possible. In the beginning Eric had pleaded with them to help, to try and fix whatever had broken in him, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Perhaps that was why the youngest Rosier had been so hurt and broken at being forgotten by Evan. They had never had the love of their parents, only each other. And when Evans mental state had declined and he was left behind, something in him had snapped. Evan was all that he'd had, and he'd lost him. There were now no words for how he was feeling, nothing that could explain the feeling of being whole and somehow repaired.

"Mother has no heart. But I would like to see what's been residing in it's place." he nodded with a sickly smile. Evan, as many knew, loved bones. The skeletal system and all it's joints and components. Eric however, had always been more intrigued with what was inside,,beyond the bones and what made people walk and talk and feel. And in particular, hearts. One tiny little chunk of meat that without it, was death. One small little thing that held life, and supposedly all feelings. That's what fascinated him the most. The way it worked. How they all looked different but much the same. Words could cripple one beyond repair, while punctures and ruptures could be healed just fine. Their mothers however, he was certain was nonexistent. In it's place had to be something shriveled and black, twisted and gnarled with decay at its core. How he longed to find out..

As their foreheads pressed together, Eric looked at Evan with the admiration he had always held. His big brother had always had a brilliant mind. Dark and creative like no other. And as he spoke of the kingdom they would create, made from the bone and death of the weak and pointless, a twisted smile graced his gentle features. "I would love nothing more, dear brother.."

EVAN WILMONT ROSIER

?Vel!?

Slytherin

SEVENTH YEAR

	Plotter
Posts: 34

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 31, 2014 9:57:49 GMT -8

Post by EVAN WILMONT ROSIER on Jul 31, 2014 9:57:49 GMT -8

Finally he felt at home, everything about the siutation was right again and there was no turning back. He was going to stay this way for the rest of his life. Perhaps his acting abilities were amazing, but he wasn't going to put his brother through that pain and agony ever again. Evan smiled as he listened to his brother speak. Eric had been his world before his mentality slipped, and here stood the epicenter of all thought. Though younger, Evan relied on Eric more than anyone should have, but then again Eric had relied on him as well. It was the constant ebb and flow of their relationship. Where one was the other was and they worked in a mysterious balance.

"Aye, mother doesn't have a heart and we can gladly find out what sits in her chest cavity. As for father, I think she absorbed his soul like the Succubus she is." Evan allowed his eyes to flit all across Eric's features. Suddenly he didn't feel so lonely in this world. Softly he closed his eyes and continued to brush his thumbs across his brother's prominent cheek bones. "Then let us begin." His voice was nothing more than a soft whisper as he focused in and pulled apart.

Licking his lips, Evan allowed his hands to trail down and capture Eric's. "When we're done, I can preserve whatever is encased within their ribs. It will be my gift to you for dealing with our tragic turn of events. I'm so sorry I forgot you, dear Brother. It will never happen again. Of that I promise." Taking a step back, the older boy tugged his little brother along toward the stairs with an excited fiery smile.

ERIC WYATT ROSIER

?Cassy?

Slytherin


Posts: 16

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 31, 2014 11:48:15 GMT -8

Post by ERIC WYATT ROSIER on Jul 31, 2014 11:48:15 GMT -8

The balance was no longer shifted, but back to the synchronicity it had held once before. The abandonment and hollowness that Eric had felt all disappeared. His loyalty and connection to his brother now re-strengthened and unyielding. Time had been his biggest foe in it all, but he had bested it, waiting without hope and now finally, his harrowing trial was over and all was well.

His smile dark, he looked on at his brother, his hand still overtop his. "It will be poetic to say the least. To be killed by the very children they tried so hard to ignore." If there was any one thing that had wounded the brothers deeper than any blade, it would be the very ones who gave them their existence. And now, it was high time they payed the piper for their sins.

As Evans fingers grazed over his cheeks, and slipped to take his hands, Eric let out a much needed breath of relief. The simple action had stilled any unrest in the boy. Things were as they should be, they only had one task to complete before they could bring the world to its knees. The first to fall that should have fallen years ago. The decaying souls that poisoned their home, and treated them with such indifferent distaste . Dear old mum and dad..

He squeezed Evans hands gently and smiled at the offer, truly touched. "They would be my prized possessions." at the apology and promise, Eric was left with no words. Nothing that could portray his gratitude by any proper measure. Instead he pulled Evan back to him as his brother tugged, leaving little space between the two. For a long moment he just looked at him, as if taking everything about him in. He reached up and brushed his thumb over his brothers cheek with a soft smile, mirroring Evans earlier movements almost completely before finally breaking the comfortable silence. "...All of our toys are in the basement. We nearly forgot them."

EVAN WILMONT ROSIER

?Vel!?

Slytherin

SEVENTH YEAR

	Plotter
Posts: 34

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 31, 2014 12:16:09 GMT -8 via mobile

Post by EVAN WILMONT ROSIER on Jul 31, 2014 12:16:09 GMT -8

"And there is no one in this world that creates such tragic poetry other than us. We are the epitome of poetic. We are the very core of this world and without us, it is nothing. We will right upon the walls of our kingdom in the blood of our creators." A sinister chuckle exploded from Evan's chest and he looked back just as he was pulled to Eric. It was such a fire filled gesture that Evan let out an unexpected and soft gasp. Closing his eyes as such skilled fingers moved across his cheek. There was no turning back now, there was no need to live a fruitless life when their livelihood was as axe and scalpel. There were so many options to reap and sow.

Evan flicked his tongue out to dampen his dry lips, still caked in mud. Eric was what he needed to whet his appetite, without his brother at his side Evan was insatiable. He lacked the obvious control and needed the boy before him to keep him tied down to the ground and focus. The smile that creased his lips was one of grateful excited, he leaned forward, lips nearly touching and parted to speak. "Nearly forgotten, but alas they've been remembered and they will be used." there was a peak of sadistic glee lingering behind Evan's words and he wasn't going to stop there.

The grip on his brother's hand tightened as he leaned into the soft graze against his cheek. A perpetual longing lingered within his chest as their eyes met and locked. "Shall we? I'll even give you the honors on mother, Dear Brother. It will be a treat for me to watch you soak her world in red. Have you the shackles? We can lock father down and he can watch."

ERIC WYATT ROSIER

?Cassy?

Slytherin


Posts: 16

The Approaching Curve || Evan Jul 31, 2014 13:16:17 GMT -8

Post by ERIC WYATT ROSIER on Jul 31, 2014 13:16:17 GMT -8

"Shakespeare himself could write no finer tragedies then what we will carve in the flesh of man. " he chuckled back, pushing back Evans mud streaked hair and holding him there. Evan was all he needed. Just himself and his brother for the rest of time, carving and slicing their way through the world, leaving a trail of corpses and death in their wake.

His hand slid softly from his cheek, thumb running over Evans lips to away with some of the mud, chuckling softly as he did. His brother always had a way about him that he adored. The fury and violence that made him now look like a paint splattered masterpiece. Such ferocity he'd missed.

As Evan leaned in close, Eric's eyes closed and he grinned, pressing their foreheads together. "We'll use them all, everything we've got. It should be made a memorable event." he grinned, keeping less than inches between them as he swayed their way to the basement door. A dark glint ran across his eyes at the mention of the honor of doing their mother in. And even more so at making their father watch. He nodded softly at the words, and grinned, running his fingers through Evans mud matted hair, their gaze unbreaking.

"I've made new ones since you've been away. Stronger and shorter. And...I've made ones for after. We can string up their bones when we're finished. I know you've always wanted them in your collection. "

EVAN WILMONT ROSIER

?Vel!?

Slytherin

SEVENTH YEAR

	Plotter
Posts: 34

The Approaching Curve || Evan Aug 2, 2014 11:13:24 GMT -8

Post by EVAN WILMONT ROSIER on Aug 2, 2014 11:13:24 GMT -8

There were men, and then there was Eric. The reckless nature of man was abhorrent compared to the ceaseless skill his brother possessed. Eric was a king among men when the trade of a knife was involved. Countless times the disaster out duo had gone into the woods, only to come back with a finely gutted creature and a perfect skeleton. It was an art form, the constructs they would create. The massacre that would lay in their wake. They were true masters of the art, perfectionists in death. As it stood death was their calling and soon they would abide by it's wishes, releasing the souls of the damned to the darkness itself. Only to reap what it was they ached for most.

"The arsenal is great, Dear Brother. Do you think they'll live long enough for us to implement our devices and bury the spikes within their flesh. Pray tell you've kept the scalpel spotless. I would just hate to use a rusty blade." Evan chuckled darkly as they moved with ghastly ambition toward the basement door. The rattle of chains echoing as the wooden panel was pulled open. A soft breeze lifted up to their skin. What lie in this basement was the things nightmares were made of. And it's been far too long that the instruments of mutilation have been handled.

A fire rekindled within the belly of the beast roared to life again. "Now now, perhaps we shall save the stronger ones for post operation. I'd hate to see you with something so fragile and weak around your wrists. As for them, we will use what we have until they snap." Keeping their hands locked together he led Eric down the steep staircase. Fingers entwined and comfortable. The ease Evan felt around Eric was remarkable and he wanted nothing more to build him that castle.