asgardeventide | o1 video

Entry tags:

o1 video | day 415

[ There are some people in the world who really shouldn't be given any sort of technology or utensil without first receiving some hands-on instruction. Well, even more than is standard upon arrival. Peter Pettigrew, unfortunately, is one of them. The video jolts and even falls to the floor before it rights itself, but upside down. ]

Hn. Owls really would just be easier.

[ It rattles again, and really, wearing a bracelet should not be so difficult. ][ A sigh. ]

Merlin, this is -- well. I... I was just wondering if maybe anyone played chess? I... I don't know.

Something to do, maybe? Besides... well, this thing.

[ He gestures to the bracelet, which only serves to make the video fuzzy and flicker out. Sorry, he's never been very good at introductions, and certainly no good at making many friends. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The last time he'd seen Peter Pettigrew was at an Order meeting. It was nearing the end of summer. Half the Order was out on missions, and Sirius had said something to Peter--something stupid and ill-thought out, he couldn't remember exactly what, but Peter had laughed anyways, the way that he always laughed, and then the meeting had ended and they'd all gone separate ways.

Seeing him now is a little like being punched in the chest. It's the same Peter from that Order meeting, who is the same Peter who'd sat next to Sirius in the Great Hall in first year and then had quickly stood up and switched sides to sit next to James instead. The same Peter who had helped Sirius drag a bag full of dungbombs down into the dungeons in third year, who had stood watch in fourth year when Sirius and James were rigging up the Sticky Corridor prank--and then there was the Marauders Map, and all those full moon nights, Peter darting ahead of them, transforming first so he could get the knot on the Willow and lead the way in to the Shrieking Shack--

And by all accounts, the same Peter Pettigrew that sells out James and Lily. Peter Pettigrew, who betrays them all, who passes information to Voldemort and gets James killed. Since finding out about the future, Sirius has done his best to think as little as possible about it, but here, with Peter in front of him, he can think of nothing else. His stupid face and his nervous smile. How long has he been passing information to Voldemort? When he can't sleep, that's one of the questions that plagues Sirius. A year? Half a year? At that Order meeting, when he'd jabbed his elbow into Peter's side and muttered his stupid joke--had he gone home from that and rang up Voldemort to whisper a few more secrets to him?

Merlin. Sirius goes on staring at Peter's message for a very long time, his fingers tight on his device, his knuckles so white they look like candlewax. And then, all at once, almost savagely, he flips into a reply.]

Where are you.

[More furious than friendly. Peter's seen him like this. They're friends, they go way back. He'll remember first year Sirius, brittle and sneering and smiling only a little. He'll remember his temper. He'll know, what this glare means, and if he's a traitor now, if he's been selling his secrets, then he'll have to work it out: Sirius knows.]

[ For a moment, when Peter hears the voice he isn't sure what to think. Instantly, he feels a small jump of excitement, because it's a voice he knows, but it's the tone, it's the smile that doesn't quite reach Sirius' eyes that frightens him and he blinks. ]

Padfoot?

[ Because any thought of changing, any thought of turning his whole life around here is different, somehow, under the scrutiny of Sirius. James had been cautious, but welcoming but this -- this was something he forgot about, locked away into the horrid experiences that had been First Year, before he had Friends. ]

I'm... I'm in my room.

[ He's afraid, and it likely shows too much in his expression, but he had always feared them in some way. Merlin, they knew. That Barty fellow was right, after all. And what could he say? That he's only just joined, that he felt afraid and unsure and desperate to try and save them? That maybe being in league with some of those horrid people would somehow spare his friends?

He doesn't know how wrong he is, not yet. Peter, still blissfully unaware of the horrible things that Voldemort will ask him to do, thinks perhaps they only think he is a Death Eater, that he's trying to play from both hands. It makes his heart beat a little faster, and no doubt Sirius has seen this face before. A scared, weak young man, without a direction.

He manages to right the video and looks into it -- he's never felt farther away from his friends in all of this life. And they were all he had, right? ]

[Scared and weak and a traitor. Sirius stares at Peter, hard, like that's going to do something, like he's going to be able to read out of his face when he's from, what he knows and doesn't know.

And if he could, what would he do then? Because he knows what he wants to do. This is Peter Pettigrew and Sirius would still smash his face in for betraying James, or worse. Because it happens that way. He's been told, by James, by Remus, who heard it from Harry and Hermione: it happens just like this, with him looking at Peter and judging him worthy of his trust, because of everything they've been through, everything they've done together. Because if loyalty means nothing to Peter, then he's not going to waste his time being loyal in turn.]

What house, Peter, what house. [He spits it out between his teeth.] Tell me, because you and I have some things to talk about and the sooner we get it over with, the better.

Edited 2014-03-14 15:15 (UTC)

[ But, merlin if only he could see he didn't want to be that man. He didn't want to be what he feels they all think he is. Why couldn't they listen, why won't they understand? Surely they will. They're his friends. ]

O-oh. Loki. I... yes. Ah, room 305.

[ Because now he knows that Padfoot is upset -- no, Sirius -- is upset. He can feel the fear rising in his throat, forming a lump. He was wrong about this place, as likely many are. There would be no redemption here, no chance to start anew and forget that horrible, horrible past.

Maybe he was evil, after all. Yet it still leaves a sour taste in his mouth. ]

[Loki. He barks a short laugh, entirely without humour. Of course, it would be Loki. The association rankles at him, but he fights it down as quickly as he can.]

Stay there. I'm coming.

[Coming for Peter or to Peter, and even he doesn't know if he could make the distinction between the two right now. He shuts off his communicator, and he won't be answering; he leaves the house without saying anything to anyone, headed for Loki's district.

It still feels strange, to walk without his wand. He knows the way to the district well enough--he lived there himself, didn't he--and it doesn't take him long at all, though he barely remembers the trip once he arrives.]

Oh. Okay, I'll... okay.

[ And maybe that's the difference right now. Peter won't run -- he still loves his friends, where as a few years? He would run from any of them, hide from them and never look back.

His heart pounds in is chest, and he can hear Sirius coming, so he just opens his door. He clenches the doorknob tightly, because he's afraid. And maybe he shouldn't be, but he is absolutely, utterly afraid. Sirius Black hated him. That's what it felt like and it makes his stomach twist.

What point was there to anything, when he had no one? When he was truly, utterly alone? ]

I'm -- it's just here, Padfoot...

[ The name comes easily, without a thought, and he winces the moment he says it. Maybe he shouldn't assume their friendship is still in tact, maybe he should treat him like a stranger.

Peter just wants to hide. ]

[It's familiarity and revulsion that vie for dominance in Sirius, just at the sound of Peter's voice alone. He was headed down the wrong way, but he glances back when he hears the door open, and he stops entirely when he hears that it's Peter.

And then there's quiet, between them, this quiet that's rife with tension running just beneath it, like this constant humming. Or else that's his blood that Sirius is hearing, maybe, the quick pulse that comes with getting ready for a fight. He's not good in fights. He's not disciplined enough to be calm and competent, he gets too caught up in it, gets too angry too quickly.

He stares at Peter for a long moment. The fingers of his left hand tingle, like he's missing his wand the way a maimed man would miss a hand.]

Let's start this out right, Wormtail.

[He answers with his nickname, but there's not any fondness to the way that he says it.]

Let's start with you swearing to me that you're not going to tell me any lies. And I'll try to believe your word, worthless though it is. Think you can manage that much, to start with?

[ Peter's heart pounds in his chest and he cannot hear his own thoughts over the sound. There's Sirius, and already Peter knows this will never end well. He often wondered why nothing worked in his favor, when he always tried so hard.

Maybe the Dark Lord was right. Maybe Barty was right. Who was he to think they would even care about him? Who was he to think that he mattered?]

A-ah.

[ Wormtail. How many times had he argued with them to not have that nick name, to beg for something different? And yet they had laughed and said it was only because he was a rat. It made his stomach twist. ]

I swear I won't. I won't lie to you, Sirius.

[ He wrings his hands and steps back, letting the other wizard in and he looks as though he could break. ]

My words are worthless. [ He tries for a rebuttal but there isn't much he can say. They all believed he turned against him, believed he was nothing more than the very rat he became to help them so many years ago. ]

I don't want to lie.

You're right. They are worthless. I'm not even sure I can believe you when you say you swear you won't lie. Because you've already lied to us, haven't you.

[He doesn't want to go into Peter's room. It feels too familiar, a threshold a friend might cross. And they are friends, aren't they? When he looks at Peter--even Peter like this, cringing a little--he sees his friend, Pete, a little worthless but in a way that Sirius has grown to find sort of endearing. You can't define a friendship of ten years in words, it's all in feelings, and when Sirius looks at Peter--Merlin, it's nauseating, the sick pitch of betrayal with the familiarity of recognition.

He smiles, grimly. Vaguely he realises that he's clenched his hands into fists. He can't remember when he did that, but now he couldn't work his fingers free if he wanted to, they're locked, tight.]

But I'll pretend I can believe you. You don't want to lie. So then you can tell me when it started, right? When you decided that the Dark Lord was better company than your friends.

[ Merlin, that hurts. It makes his stomach twist uncertainly and he cowers back, warily. ]

I didn't decide that, I -- I never decided that. I don't want to -- I did it because if --

[ Was there a point? Sirius won't listen to him, he can already tell and it makes his heart break. There was no point at all, was there? He was useless, and there was a reason he was. ]

I was pressured, but I don't -- I don't even go to those stupid meetings. I don't -- hn. Ah. I just thought if maybe... maybe I was there and part of their... whatever it is, then... then they wouldn't hurt you or... or the others. Because you'd be... I just wanted--

[ he takes a deep breath, the air catching in his throat. And he knows, he knows he won't be heard but he desperately wants Sirius to hear him. ]

I thought it would save you all. That none of you would be touched and then... then maybe I'd mean something. I'd be... I'd belong again. I didn't want anyone to die.

[ He nearly crumbles, his shoulders slumped but there is a determination in his expression that wasn't there before. ] It's not been long. A few months. I swear. I... hm.

A few months?

[He repeats that, incredulously, but there's a cut of sarcasm in his tone as well, as he takes a step closer to Peter. Already he's cringing back, and Sirius is ready--to hit him, at least, because that's what this is leading up to. His fists are already bunched tightly, muscles coiled; he's been ready for this since he saw Peter on the network.]

A few months, and what d'you think happens in a few more months, Peter. D'you think you just get to coast along, pretending? On his side, on our side--and no one the wiser? You know who he is, Peter. You know what he demands, you know what he does--we were all ready to stand up to that, so what exactly was your plan? What were you going to do, Peter, when he turned to you and told you to kill me? Or Remus?

[He can't say James, or Lily, he can't even think of the night that's like a fucking blot on the horizon of their lives.]

Or any of us? You'd defy him then? We both know you wouldn't. You wouldn't dare.

What you're telling me, now. All of this. It's got to be a lie. You wanted to belong? You did belong. To us, to the Order-- Merlin, Peter, a few months? A day's too long!

[ He stares at Sirius, because he honestly can't believe any of this is happening. His hands shake and he takes another step back from Sirius, wishing he could honestly curl up and hide. ]

I wouldn't do it. Why would I do that? [ Sirius believed he'd kill them, didn't he? He stares incredulously. ]

A-and he won't! That's why I d-did it! I joined, because... if I did that then nothing could happen to any of you! Because he won't do that -- he hasn't to anyone else so why me? I wanted to protect you all.

[ He doesn't know how he can be more honest, and he's trying desperately not to cry. ]

I'm not lying! [ And that's when his strong resolve cracks and no doubt Sirius sees the shattered remains of the awkward boy he knew in school. ] I'm not lying, I don't know how to prove it, I don't.

Sirius, please -- please. I don't want to -- I won't be it anymore. I thought -- I thoguht I could help, I thought I had a way to -- to be...

[ He seems to run out of steam, completely defeated. ] Nothing I say matters to you anymore, does it? [ He frowns, his voice small as he speaks. ] You and the others... you're all I have. I don't have anything, anyone else. I thought I could do this, and succeed at something.

I thought that if ... if I joined, he'd never touch you.

[ He stares at his feet, shoulders shaking. ] I'm sorry. I won't be it anymore -- I... I don't know how to do that but I won't go back to those meetings or... or anything. I... I don't know how to change it but I will. I'll change it.

[He should feel something more than he does--this is Peter, and he knows that, logically; when he looks at him he sees Peter, hears his voice. But it blurs too easily, the Peter from Hogwarts and the Peter at the Order meeting and the Peter standing here in front of him--and the Peter that he's imagined, going to some Death Eater party, standing at the back, saying the right words right along with everyone else. Peter, telling Voldemort himself--because how else would something so important be done?--about James, and Lily, and Harry.

Peter stammers through his explanation, but Sirius hardly hears any of it. He goes on staring at Peter, his ears ringing--and then, as he looks down at his feet, Sirius moves, suddenly, grabbing for Peter's arm.]

Show me.

[The Dark Mark. He'll know what Sirius is asking. If he can get a grip on Peter, it will be tight, too tight, and there's a muscle working in his jaw and he doesn't know what he's going to do, he doesn't know what he should do. Nothing I say to you matters anymore, and it doesn't, because Sirius can't let it matter. He can't. Not if it risks James.]

Show it to me now, Peter.

[ He's seen Sirius irritated, but never this angry, this sort of hateful anger that seems to have taken over his friend. He doesn't know what else to call it, but it scares him, terrifies him, and shakes him to the bone.

He can't react fast enough when his friend reaches for him, and Peter lets out a cry of surprise and pain alike when his arm is seized. He struggles for a moment, the fingers digging into his arm but it quickly sizzles out. He can't get out of this - Sirius is bigger and stronger than he is, after all. ]

T-that hurts. [ He is shaking beyond measure now, his whole body trembling uncontrollably and his heart thumping madly in his chest. What could he do? How could he make it out of this with some semblance of a friend left? He couldn't, could he?

Show me. There it is, and he lets out a sob, unable to control what he feels as he yanks his sleeve up, bearing the new, but stark image on his arm. He stares at the floor, but puts up a fight again, struggling against his arm in desperation. ] Please, Padfoot, please. Just listen to me, just once!

[ Because it's true. He followed them, did some of the assignments so they could chase girls and play quidditch, he was teased and yet -- did they really know him? Did they know him at all? ]

I don't want to hurt anyone, I don't want to be this anymore and I just -- please, help me. Please.

[ He'd hate himself if he could see it -- he always awnted to be stronger, wanted to be just like them and now there was no chance. He won't make it out of any of this with any friends. ] I don't understand... I don't understand why you're this mad! If I can change still, if I can turn back and not be this, I can do that. I can! I don't want to be what they are so -- so isn't that enough?

[ Because he doesn't know about what he does, doesn't know about the Potters and how they're killed. He doesn't know, and it's apparent in the way he shakes his arm, tries to get free. What would Sirius do if this were James? If it were anyone else but him? Peter thinks it would all look very different.

Then again, didn't it always? He was no one.]

[It's not a pain that he has to bear long, because Sirius drops Peter's arm as soon as he's pulled up his shirtsleeve, like it's something diseased, his lip curled in a sneer. He drops Peter's arm and he shoves away from him, turning aside to push his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenched tight.

Fucking hell. Fucking hell, he thinks it again, and there's a sick feeling in his stomach that combats all the anger that's working on him, too, everything twisting in him, and that ringing is still in his ears, so he can barely hear Peter--or at least, so he can barely pay attention to what he's saying. There's an edge of shrill panic in his voice, desperation--please, he says, please, and Sirius wants to be sick.

Instead, he shoves that feeling down, fights past it. Anger is the only thing waiting to take its place, and Sirius turns back to Peter at last, tense and grim--]

Shut up.

[He bites out those two words.]

Shut up, Peter, or I swear, I'll-- [He can't finish that threat; he doesn't know what he'll do. The possibilities are too many. Instead, he barks a laugh, again, short and sharp.]

You've got the nerve to ask me to help you? Help you what, exactly. Help you betray us all? Because that's what you've done. You don't get to change back, Peter. And what'll you do, when he asks you to kill us. What're you going to do then? Are you going to ask him 'please', and that'll just be enough, he'll sponge that little tattoo off your arm and pat you on the head and send you home?

[And he's taken a step closer to Peter now, his hands clenched into fists again, so tight his arm feels shaky.]

Do you even know what you're doing?

[ The anger scares him, shakes him to his core and he stumbles backwards, his back hitting the wall. He knows that Sirius is capable of many things, much more than he, and that is the most terrifying realization of them all. ]

He won't ask -- I won't do it. I know now, I know.

[ Except he does, doesn't he? He can tell by the accusation that he does indeed do it and he feels like he will be sick, like he will fall and never wake up in this very place. ]

I...

I don't want to be this anymore, I can change here, I can be -- I can be who I was. I haven't changed, I haven't. I thought it would help, I thought if I had say somewhere else then -- please, just...

[ What is he begging for now? He doesn't even know and he merely sinks to the ground, back against the wall, burying his face into his arms.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

o1 video | day 415

video; dumps stuff on you sorry

omg my heart

my heart too :c

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

I AM SORRY I AM SO SLOW ;o;

DON'T BE SORRY i would wait a thousand years!!!

i am so glad we actually get to tag even though it's hateship

ME TOO me too but sorry these tags take longer :<

omg don't apologize, i understand!

<33

no subject

no subject

sorry for the wait, rl was kicking my butt.