I am leaving I am leaving, but the fighter still remains

[spindleform.livejournal.com]

*Regulus' London is not the one that appears on muggle postcards. His internal landmarks have never been Buckingham Palace or Piccadilly Circus, and the crosswalk at Abbey Road is no more special to him than any other of it's kind. With his second city and all it's magic, history, splendor and comforts hidden always just behind or in between the muggle world, Regulus' London remains incredibly separated from the people inhabiting the other. So much so that, on the rare occasion Regulus, with all his cripplingly shy superiority and cripplingly wizarding clothing, tries to talk a walk on the other side, his mechanisms of shielding himself from their attention simply don't rate.

They had just been curious, four of them even younger than himself, just been amused by this small and strange one-boy fancy dress party who looked like a prick out of a BBC period drama. When Regulus got away from them, however, with only ruffled hair a missing scarf and a bit of a shove for a fond memory, he may as well have been beaten and dipped in a hospital waste bin of filth for all the shaken up he is. He makes it in though his front door, but no sooner does the lock clank into place does he collapse in familiar familiar anxiety, wilting like an inked illustration of the fairer sex.*

Kreacher-

Comments

[mysonisgay.livejournal.com]

Muggles.

*Orion reiterates for a lack of a better response. With his son and wife both picturesquely wilted and no sign of any muggles afoot whatsoever, Walburga's statement does nothing to aide his understanding of the situation. And yet, somehow, it all seems less madcap than it probably should.*

A reasonable reaction, I suppose. Do tell me when you've had enough of the floor and I'll help you up.

[spindleform.livejournal.com]

There were half a dozen of them, I only wanted to take some air but they surrounded me.

[walburgisnacht.livejournal.com]

*Kreacher has conjured a damp cloth out of nowhere and has been applying it to her forehead, but Walburga waves away the elf's hand, now, sitting up, her eyes wide. As far as she's concerned Regulus has now been infected and crushed and cut up into little pieces, regardless of how unmarked he actually is.*

How awful, shall I send for the Healer?

*This is with a questioning look at Orion, very mildly irritated. She's always appreciated his steadiness but can't he grasp the gravity of the situation? Or, barring that, at least kiss her on her forehead?*