The Flesh That Thrives.

Kendall watched the seemingly free cyclical routes of the dust. The dim light from the setting sun gave whatever insignificance they had some form of visible existence. They seemed to have a life of their own. Odd, really. These inanimate substances struggling for some semblance of life. Kendall smirked. He brought his hands up. The palms that stared back at him were full of challenge, stronger than the will in his sick body. The shivers had begun to quell. It could work, then. Sure, it tasted like blood that had been collected for ages. It wasn’t, or at least, Kendall didn’t think that his father would send him some blood in the guise of what was an attempt at curing his symptoms. The weakness in his knees, and the spinning in his head, however, did not overcome him now. He was standing, wasn’t he? Augustus had said not to show weakness, and he did it all well, didn’t he?

Kendall watched the swirling of the dust, with his palm bringing them closer to him; whatever the illusory trick was that made it look like that. And then he crushed them, however insignificant. The boy took pleasure even in whatever illusion that was; crushing even the most insignificant of their lives. He smirked. He needed whatever it was to keep his spirits up. The sickness was taking away a lot of him. He was constantly tired out. But he fought it, didn’t he? Almost. The bloody potion was going to work, he was sure. However Augustus had obtained it, Kendall didn’t question. It was meant to be an elusive owl, and he was going to keep it that way. He knew how to keep up with the appearance of it. After all, that was what the Rookwoods always managed to do – perform.

The boy licked his lips before releasing the fists that were balled. The weakness returned to his hands as he relaxed them. Kendall frowned. He refused to believe in it. Looking away from the dust, he watched the sky darkening rapidly. Dinner was served in the Great Hall. Yet, he continued to stay away. The attack of his symptoms had taken the rose from his cheeks. The pale shadow of his usual self, Kendall had loathed the weakness of his façade. There was no way people were going to get to look at him long enough to notice the change. For the first time in his life, really, he shied away from company. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. But it wasn’t as if he had a choice. He just wanted it all to be over. Impatience had its grip on him, but self-control was helping him hold his own fort.

Kendall turned his attention away from the dim light streaming through the window. The orange had waned. The armoury remained still. That was what he should be. Still, still despite the violent change of light, and the assault of darkness. In fact, the defiance grew as the darkness increased itself. The line of armoured figures stood their ground; the embodiment of passive aggression. Perhaps Kendall was hiding. Perhaps. It wasn’t an occasion to set up the fire and get on with the burning show, after all. He eyed the armoured man closest to him. And then he smirked. The thoughts of rotting flesh entertained him. His imagination was thick of it, the imagery of flesh rotting in the hollow shell of the armoury. Imagine that, centuries of rotten flesh. These men, dead bodies put up on display. Yet, haunting, stronger than anyone rated them to be. The thriving of dead flesh.

Rise was soaking wet, the results of another prank, gone right for the Gryffindors who enjoyed making fun of her. Weren't they supposed to be the good guys? The people who stood up for everyone? Not the ones who dumped water on her head on the seventh floor, and than ran downstairs to the Great Hall to tell their friends at supper. Rise had slowly made her dripping way back downstairs, working her feet to pick up, one foot, than another, her tiredness getting the best of her. She wasn't sick, she was just done.. done with the people who made fun of her, done with trying to fight for her right to sound like she was still human.

After they had splashed water on her.. some Slytherin's had happened by.. and of course, they couldn't just leave her alone.. oh no.. They had surrounded her, grabbing her arms, pushing her against a wall, laughing evilly in her ear as one person punched her repeatedly in the stomach, before finally punching her across the face, and she had landed in a heap on the floor, as they walked off, high fiving each other for the evil they had just done to a Werewolf, laughing the entire way. By the time Rise made it to the third floor, the sun was going down, and dinner was in full swing, but she didn't care.. One step in front of the other.

Turning a corner, she realized she was in the Trophy Room, well, whatever it was, a long hallway with lots of awards and statues, and other random things.. Rise stopped at the door and looked around, watching the speedy progression of night, coming nearer and nearer. She could feel the call of the almost full moon, but she ignored it, instead choosing to focus on something that her puppy side could tell, that she couldn't... There was someone in the room with her.

Rise tensed up, and ducked behind a trophy, closing her eyes and trying to figure out why the smell was so.. amazing. So heavenly, so. beautiful. Rise stood there silently, her wand having fallen into her hand as soon as she had hit the statue she was behind. Her puppy was bouncing around excitedly in her head, and she couldn't understand why, until she went to the edge of the statue, and peeked around it, and saw to her absolute delight.. Kendall Rookwood. "Kendall!" She gasped and ran out from behind the trophy, going towards him, looking absolutely ecstatic.

Quick and early, he recognised the sound of footsteps. Staying where he was, Kendall stayed as silent and as still as he could. He wasn’t pleased. It was the first time he didn’t want people around, shouldn’t it go his way? Shouldn’t everything go his way? Annoyed but composed, the boy fixed his eyes on the almost opaque reflection on the dull shine of the armour suit in front of him. He licked his lips. His guard was up. It was a good thing that he was feeling, or feigning, in more control over his body now, after the potion.

Still, it wasn’t promised to last. The owl had brought more, and Augustus wasn’t sure about the dosage or any other sort of details. The note read “take these”, and that was it. What did that all mean? It was a good thing he knew it as his father’s word. The scent was reliable too. Still, he was so desperate he went ahead with instructions even without questioning what he had consumed. Fortunately, he wasn’t afraid of pain or dying. He was only afraid of weakness.

At the call of his name, Kendall felt his head shoot up to locate Rise. Perhaps, after all, he was okay with company. The boy smirked. Sure, he would have appreciated her presence once again at another time, a better time. Still, why should it matter?

“I must say … I was beginning to feel some sort of disappointment towards the Sorting Hat. Aren’t Hufflepuffs supposed to be loyal, after all? Either it’s losing it, or you’re just … defiant.” And then, with amusement, he continued. “I’ve been expecting you.” Kendall chuckled at the ominous tone he attempted to affect. And then he frowned, stepped back, looked at the girl intently, and relaxed. “Getting wet?” The Slytherin smirked. Then, almost indifferently, he rubbed the semi-reflective surface of the armoury.

“How’s my puppy doing tonight?”

Rise walked towards Kendall happily, and stopped just a couple of feet away. He sounded amused, but his words stung. Did he know about Ryo? It had happened so long ago.. and she hadn't seen him in a while.. she just didn't know what to say about the whole situation. Sure it was kind of cheating.. but were her and Kendall really together? She wasn't sure, and so she just stood there, looking slightly ashamed at herself and how he greeted her the first time seeing her after quite some time. The second he said he was expecting her, her heart leaped into her throat, and she looked up at him happily.

Rise's hand went up to her throat and scratched at it, her mind obviously trying to remind her that she had her scarf on. Kendall had never liked her scarf being on.. but she still hated it, and she had kind of forgotten, so there was the scarf, hiding that horrible looking scar that Kendall loved to touch, when he touched it though.. pain that was completely unimaginable flooded her system, but at the same time, it felt really, really good, and she had grown addicted to the feeling of Kendall's hand, his lips, anything, pushing against that scar in a way that would hurt her, and yet make her feel so good.

Having disappeared for a while from society, from everyone, Rise didn't quite know how to act, she stared at Kendall, taking in his features, and she realized he didn't look to good, in fact he looked really really sick. Leaning slightly forward, it was obvious to Rise's slightly more powerful nose, that he was sick with that weird disease that was going around, the one that made people green. He didn't look green, he just looked sick, and she felt bad. She should have been there trying to help him.... not hiding herself away from everybody because she had had sex with a vampire.

"Getting wet?"

Rise's eyes flew wide open, and she looked at him in shock, before she realized what he meant, and she looked down at herself, smirking slightly. “How’s my puppy doing tonight?” Rise grinned at him, and if she had looked any happier, it wouldn't have been surprising if you had been able to see a tail wagging behind her. "Alright.. Some Gryffindors dumped water on my head, and some Slytherin's beat me up.. but besides that I'm okay.. I was just heading down to my common room.. not really in the mood to eat when I'm soaking wet.." She said glancing down at her clothes before sighing and looking back up at Kendall, a huge grin on her face, happy, once again to see her beloved Kendall, the only one who was nice to her.

Kendall took a deep breath, an endeavour to hold back the potential bout of coughs that threatened to reveal the weakness of his recent frame. The fists that were balled released once again, and he felt the blood rush to his fingertips. The heat of the rush offered him some sense of comfort. Kendall licked his lips as he continued to sustain his composure in the presence of the Hufflepuff girl. It made him sick, the glee on her face. Yet, the sickness of it all drove him, pushed him; made it all the more pleasurable.

There was, unfortunately, a problem. How long was it going to take before he would lose himself to the strangeness of this illness? For the first time in awhile, Kendall thought of Athena, if only to seek for answers. Somehow, it would seem more likely than even his father. After all, if he could only know what was the cause of it all, perhaps there would be a way towards a cure. Uncertain about how long he could keep up with this, Kendall looked intently at Rise, as if expecting whatever he wanted from her to happen quick and fast, so that he could run back to hide after it.

Kendall chuckled coldly, a reaction to his own thoughts. Him, Kendall Rookwood, seeking a way to run and hide. No, that was an awful picture to paint of himself. His displeasure grew. A couple of typical lines to chide himself to get a grip of himself ensued in his head.

“Gryffindors got your wet? That’s not very nice, isn’t it? Clearly ignoring the Slytherin bit, Kendall shook his head, then smirked. “Didn’t do a good job of it, did they? Don’t see you taking pleasure from it, no.” He grinned, taking pleasure from his innuendos. “I’d have done better, but …” He glanced around, then stole a look through the stony frame of a window. “It’s getting dark …” And then, quickly, he looked at Rise, as if a thought had sparked in him.

The stare was attentive, intent, and curious. He was watching, watching for something, the sky had darkened so quickly; it was almost as if it was working together with him, working together for a show, if there was going to be one. At that point, Kendall offered some attention to his body, even as he eyed Rise, checking to ensure that he would last till the end of the show. The chill of the night that even had an effect in the colder parts of the castle, however, did not pass him by. He attempted to master the shivers in his body.

Rise couldn't help it, she flushed bright red when he made the joke about the Gryffindors getting her wet. She tried to stammer out an explanation, but he seemed so amused, she let it drop, but when he showed that he was thinking a lot differently than just teasing her.. well her face went even more red. Her eyes flickered towards the window, and she took a step towards it, looking out at the grounds. A cool breeze came through it, and she leaned forward, meeting the coolness with the heat of her embarrassed skin. She smiled slightly and looked back at Kendall at his words. It was getting darker out, it was getting dark very quick, quicker than she had anticipated actually. The sun went down, and almost immediately it was pitch black.

Looking back up at Kendall, she caught his look, and her breath was halted for a moment or two, she found herself pinned where she was, his gaze almost.. powerful as he held her there, completely captured, she gazed into his eyes, and it wasn't even like she was LOOKING.. it was more, she could feel him, gazing right directly through her, taking in her soul, forcing her to stillness as she stared at him, completely silent.

The night got colder, and Rise felt her breath catch again, she didn't know what to do, he was just staring at her, almost a hungry look in his eyes, she knew that she shouldn't have her scarf on.. he didn't like the scarf being on, but she couldn't move, was struck against that wall, her breath caught, and then she took one deeper one, and she slowly moved her hand up to her scarf, it stopped there, as though trying to bring attention to it, her eyes asking the question she wanted answered. "Do you want me to take it off or leave it on?"