bait_backup | Sit back now, let me tell you a tale where justice does not prevail (Reply)

*The little ziploc baggie has seen more in the past twenty-four hours than most wizards have in their entire lives. The eyeball inside it sees nothing at all. It's slightly squished, like a half melted gummy. A slickness coats the inside of the bag and an optical rapture has caused salty juices to create small, cloudy lakes on either end. It lies on Reg's end-table, unexplained and protected by Barty's firm and slumberous orders to leave it be.

He'd wanted to put story behind it of course, raise it up dramatically on a pedestal of words and regalements. But Regulus had been a ball of fretful limbs and furrowing brows and why-did-you-run-off-like-that-I-was-worried. There was even a general ushering towards a bed and general usherings are very difficult to resist after adventures with unnamable devices, hitwizards and a ziploc bag. Sleep had come to him near instantly, turning unrealized words into ash in his throat before he even had a chance to taste them on his tongue or slide them victoriously across his teeth.

He awakens suddenly, his words reignited. Sitting up with his eyes wide and alive, Barty looks like an entirely different boy from the one who had languished in this very same bed only several days ago.*