nexmosnonlucror | Entries tagged with i split my soul seven ways

I seem to have discovered the art of making cider.

I also have eight bushels of apples packaged and prepared according to size and type to anyone who would like to trade for them.

I require a lamp that burns oil in return. I've also seem to run into the problem of my magic interfering with the electricity within my flat -- and I've blown quite a few lightbulbs as a result. Should anyone have these in stock, it would be much appreciated.

( [Filtered to Raphael // Private // Unhackable] )

[Tom is a perpetual night owl. A shame, really -- but he seems to be in his bathroom, in front of a mirror, head tilted slightly as he presses his fingers against his chest. Something is not right -- and the furrowing of his brow indicates that -- but the question is what.

There is a silence, before Tom murmurs something to himself. It's inaudible, but there is a slight tinge of concern on the very last syllable. His fingers dig into his shirt abruptly and the teenager exhales, forcing his dark eyes to look at himself in the mirror.

It only lasts a moment before he pushes himself away from the sink.

The feed turns off shortly after.]

ooc; Replies will come, icly, after Tom has gone to sleep and woken up -- around 10:00 AM.

[There is a rather ungainly thud as a figure lands, hard, on the ground. Pale trembling fingers sink into the soil to push the boy -- no more than sixteen -- onto his hands and knees. He is breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat covering his handsome face -- but that glint in his eyes shows a tremendous amount of life.

Thin lips purse together as the boy lifts his head, black hair falling into his eyes as he forces himself to look around his surroundings. One hand is curled around a thin piece of wood -- thirteen inches long, made of yew, to those that are truly paying attention -- and the boy pushes himself back to sit on his heels, laying the wand in the palm of his hand, dark eyes fixated upon it as he whispers:]

Point Me.

[The wand does not move. There is the slightest twitch in his cheek as the teenager hisses it again:]

Point --

[But from behind the teenager, there is a louder hiss -- a snarl, actually -- and Tom Marvolo Riddle twists his body around to stare at quite the large rabbit, which is baring his teeth towards the teenager in question. His eyes narrow and he raises his wand quickly, flicking it slightly with his right wrist.

But, again, nothing happens.

Tom's grip tightens on his wand and, this time, he adds the incantation, and with each spell, his voice becomes more and more of a feral snarl.]

Relashio! Stupefy! Impedimenta!

[The rabbit lunges. Tom instinctively lashes out with a hand, slamming his wand against the side of the animal, before diving for a rock -- which he brings squarely down upon the skull, killing the creature instantly.

The movements have Tom gasping for breath, though, and a pale hand presses against his chest, and he hisses:]

What did they do to me? Where is it, where is my --

[And his body convulses as he doubles over, arms finding his midsection as he retches.]

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Tom Marvolo Riddle

The Dark Lord Voldemort.

Entries tagged with i split my soul seven ways

8 [Text]

7 [Accidental Video] Forwarded to 12:45 AM.

1 [Accidental Video]

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