safe (fitzy)

[Logan Andrews]

I am sick of Knockturn Alley.
Which is something that I never thought that I would say, or think, or conclude but it's become the truth over the past however long I've been spending all my time there.
It was okay, before. When it was recreational, when I went there for a reason and that reason was to...hunt, or whatever it is that I do.
And then it was okay when I stopped being a psychotic murderer - or sort of stopped - because it was still a nice, safe haven type place where I could escape to and feel completely at ease.
I'm probably one of the only few people who thinks of Knockturn Alley as 'safe'. How strange.
Not 'safe' as in no harm is going to come to me here, because although I'm pretty sure I can look after myself that doesn't guarantee that I'm going to remain unharmed. It's just...'safe' in another way. A way I can't quite put my finger on...like a retreat, a fall back.
I can always come here and know who I am.

Except that stopped working.
I stopped being able to be comfortable and relaxed here when I lost interest in here, when I got sick of it.
Which, funnily enough, coincides with-...
The thing that I've forbidden myself thinking about, the thing that resulted in a state of not just apathy but anhedonia.
And that's a pretty alien...notion to get my head around.
Lack of feeling, not exactly new to my repetoire.
Lack of pleasure? Yes. Fairly new. Because I'm a fairly simple creature, driven by fairly simple desires that I don't often question, because it's so much easier to just go along with it if my brain decides that I really want to make someone bleed or if my brain decides that hey, it's a really good idea to kiss-...
And it all winds back to her, all over again.
Just like everything else.

So maybe that's why Knockturn Alley isn't safe anymore, because my head's not safe anymore and I can't switch off things I don't like as adeptly as I used to be able to.
So it doesn't matter where I go, what I do, because I'm the enemy. Or my uncooperative mind and the fact that it's turned into a mine field.
I find myself glancing at the floor where I'm walking as this flits through my thought train, frowning briefly at the street as if that's where the mine's are instead.
But this is nice. I like it. If I concentrate totally on the ground like this, keeping my head down as I walk so I can't see anyone or anything around me, then I can very carefully banish anything unwanted and just be totally...shut off for a little while.
Shut off is safe.

[Fitzy Patricks]

"So, what was this anyway, Lilith? Some new method of torture? Couldn't you've left the kids with Arden?"
"Oh, I could've, but I'm not that mean. Didn't you hear? Or are you two still not talking?"
"No, we're still not talking, not until she comes to her senses about that - sorry, your kids are still listening. But what are you talking about? She okay?"
"Not really. Not since she and that... whatever you want to call him split up. She's eating, so it's not as bad as Travis, but she's still a bit upset. So I really hope you're happy now, Fitz. Watching my kids is the least you can do."

Of course, I'm not happy about it. Not remotely happy. Mostly pissed off, actually, at the bastard in question. Guilty, and pissed off at myself. And a little bit annoyed with her too because she shouldn't let him affect her like that. But happy? No. Not right now, and not because my sister is upset.
It doesn't help matters that I pretty much kicked Shell out of my life, so I'm also feeling guilty about that. Or that it's still so twitch-inducing to hang around home and watch my dead best friend's twin sister coo over our daughter that I'd rather be anywhere else - including Knockturn Alley, though it's never been exactly one of my favorite hangouts. I've betrayed people here, told Kyra that I wasn't interested here, and spent an ungodly amount of time here after abandoning my kid. Not what you might call pleasant memories, any of them.
But, on the plus side, it's quiet. Not many people hang around here. And also... I guess that really is the only plus that I can think of, but oh well. I've been wandering for hours, not necessarily intending to be here but not really caring one way or the other. I'm distracted, to be honest, and that's a stupid way to be around here - hence why I've ducked into this nice little crevice where hopefully I can't be ambushed.

[Logan Andrews]

I can't even shut off.
Maybe for a little while, like thirty seconds, but reality comes pouring back in soon enough. Just because I happen to walk too close to someone who's walking in the opposite direction, so I'm suddenly aware again and that's not very pleasant.
So I shoot a brief glare at their back before looking back the way I'm walking again because that seems to be the sensible thing to do.

Inadequacy is something I'm suddenly very aware of, to accompany the total lack of everything else.
Just...lacking.
Of course I've never really thought of myself as inadequate before, spending much of my...life as a particularly arrogant...well, I'm sure there are lots of words for it.
But I guess I am, because I can't even block anything out anymore and I'm not even control in my own head anymore because I keep thinking things that I don't want to. Also because I couldn't pretend to be normal either-...but that is, off-limits. And another sign of my escalating pathetic-ness that I can't block it out and it just slips along with everything else which is bothering me at the moment.

I'm trying out a new tactic - a constant stream of shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup - when I actually look in the direction that I'm facing properly and see someone skulking around in a crevice up ahead and frown because from this angle they just about look familiar.
And it might well be one of my least favourite people in the world and I might well know that it's a good idea to just keep walking and pretend I didn't see him because I really don't want to talk to anyone right now, but that doesn't stop my poor impulse control from deciding that it'd be beneficial to demand, "What are you doing here?" the second I'm close enough.
I don't care what he's doing here. Or maybe I sort of do, because I like this place and I don't like him so it'd be better if he stopped tainting it. But I think mostly it's just that I want to snap at someone and I've got no one to snap at.

[Fitzy Patricks]

Fuck, that worked well.
I don't know how I missed the fact that someone was walking toward me - much less the least-liked person of all those who keep floating around in my head right now - but apparently I did. And that makes me more annoyed with myself than ever... though luckily I have enough fury directed at him to swallow up the annoyance and incorporate it into itself so that now I'm feeling little short of murderous.
"Enjoying the atmosphere. You?" I ask in a quick, clipped tone that will hopefully broadcast what I think of him right now even if the glare doesn't do the trick.

[Logan Andrews]

"Pretty much the same." I reply shortly, despite the bits of conflicted truth and half-sarcasm that probably should be involved in that sentence...voice sounding fairly flat and dull.
I can't be bothered to put any effort into wondering whether he's hating me because he always does, because he thinks I'm still 'distorting' his sister's mind or whatever it is that he thinks I do, or for some other reason.
I'm also wishing I had better impulse control and could have just walked past instead of having to stop and talk.

[Fitzy Patricks]

"Figures," I mutter, considering whether I should actually try and attack him for once and to hell with the consequences, or just walk away and let the authorities know he was there because surely Arden will no longer care if I turn him in. Hopefully, anyway.
Or maybe I'll just fall back on my usual, typically lame attempts to get to him mentally. "So is this where you're spending all your time now? Or did you find someone new to hypnotize?"

[Logan Andrews]

"Pretty much," I answer with an indifferent nod, "I'm sort of biding my time, you know? Before I move on to distorting someone elses mind."
And it's really very hard to remain as casual as this, as uncaring and cold, but I think I manage fairly well.
"And how about you Fitzy? How's life?" How's your sister?
Not that I actually care. How he is, anyway, and I only ask that because I really don't want to talk about anything remotely close to his line of inquisition. I don't think I want to know how Arden is either, but fuck it all.

[Fitzy Patricks]

It's taking every ounce of self-preservation I have - which, given my record, is apparently a lot - not to just punch him, and I think I might anyway.
"Fuck you," I mutter instead, pushing past him and deliberately clipping his shoulder as I do.
Not very witty, not very smart, and not very mature, but fuck that. I don't even recall the last time I felt such a strong urge to literally rip someone's head off.

[Logan Andrews]

It's quite a tough choice between just letting that slide and letting him go, and turning round and oh...hexing him, or something.
Because I really don't feel like hexing anyone, because I really don't think I'd enjoy it. I suppose I can make an exception for Fitzy, can't I?
Or not, because where the hell is my wand?
So after the contemplation, which actually takes less than a second, I turn and shove him back but harder.
"Fuck off."
Not exactly intelligent or anything, and he was sort of leaving anyway, but satisfying and it was retaliation anyway.

[Fitzy Patricks]

I think that was less violent of him than I was expecting, but I don't really stop to consider my good fortune there, just shaking my head at him as I start, again, to leave. "You know, I've been wanting to kill you for as long as I've known you, but this is the last fucking straw. What happened, you finally get tired of your game?"

[Logan Andrews]

I really don't know how to respond to that.
Partly because I'm sure he knows that the feeling's mutual and even though I don't have a solid reason to dislike him, I've really wanted to kill him for quite a while now too.
Then partly because I don't want to talk about 'my game' and whether or not I got tired of it or just forgot how to play.
There's also the fact that I know I should just let him leave and go back to wandering up and down Knockturn Alley and pretend I never even saw him here, because I've lost track of my wand.
I stopped being aware of it during Azkaban because it got taken away and never really got back into the habit of having it on my person at all times when I was out, and now I have no idea at all. So picking a fight with a death eater when I'm unarmed doesn't sound like an entirely sensible idea...even if the death eater in question is one by a very loose definition. It's not quite self-destructive behaviour, but it's also a far cry from self-preservation.
Doesn't stop me from saying after him in a bid to turn him back around, "Fucking coward."

[Fitzy Patricks]

I stop short, even though I know I shouldn't, and turn back around even though I know I shouldn't. Why he still hasn't tried to kill me or anything of the sort, I don't know, but that doesn't mean I've lost my fear of him. It does mean, however, that it's a whole lot easier to convince myself that I'm not insane when I do turn around.
"You know, that's real rich coming from you. Or I guess I'd forgotten how valiant you are."

[Logan Andrews]

"There's no law against hypocrisy," I smirk very briefly, mostly triumphant that I've got him to turn around rather than irritated.
And this is actually vaguely amusing, for now.
But that's only for a few seconds before I realise just how pathetic it is that the high point of my last couple of days has been...this.

[Fitzy Patricks]

"And a damn good thing there isn't," I mutter. "Though at least in my case it would be one of the worst of my crimes. For you, why bother even adding it?"

[Logan Andrews]

I shrug at that, because I don't really have much to add or even a comeback.
And there's really very little point arguing the case when he's right about me, and has already acknowledges that he's a hypocrite himself.

[Fitzy Patricks]

I think I'm a little bit annoyed with him for not responding, though by rights it's a good thing because now I can cut this encounter short and go back home.
It's nagging on me though, the question that I asked him a bit ago, and somehow I don't think I'll leave until I get some sort of answer - or get so incredibly frustrated that I do something stupid.
"Look, in all seriousness - what in the hell is your game? Why her, and are you really gone for good now or do I have to try something else to make sure you never come back? Just answer that and I'll leave."
Ooh, nice threat. As if he likely cares whether you leave or not.

[Logan Andrews]

"There's no game." I say lightly, shrugging.
Honest truth, but I highly doubt he'll believe me there because I'm not exactly known for being honest.
I could probably try and prove it, try and back myself up somehow, but I don't think I will. He can believe me or not - most likely not, which'll be good because I'm sure it'll be amusing and I wonder just how frustrated that can make him.

[Fitzy Patricks]

"Right." I roll my eyes at that, shaking my head. At least he answered, though.
"So all right, why her then? Tell me that. Tell me why you had to pick Arden to play this non-game of yours with."

[Logan Andrews]

I frown slightly, but then shrug, "I am particular about my candidates for my non-game, and Arden fits the criteria very nicely."
And it felt sort of wrong to say that, somehow. As if it really was that simple.

[Fitzy Patricks]

I didn't think it would be possible for his answerr to piss me off even more, but I think that he might have succeeded.
"Oh? And what's the criteria?"

[Logan Andrews]

"That's a personal question, mind your own business," I say disapprovingly, shaking my head slightly.

[Fitzy Patricks]

I give a brief 'huh,' though I'm not really sure what I'm trying to express with it, shaking my head.
"This is my damn business, actually. For those of us who occasionally give a damn about other people, those people and anything that harms them become our business. You mess with her head for years, then finally leave her crying, and I just want to know why."

[Logan Andrews]

I frown briefly again, not particularly liking that...particularly that last part.
Finally, after a seemingly long moment of deliberating how to answer, I just shrug yet again and don't say anything.

[Fitzy Patricks]

I glare at him for just a moment longer, then finally shake my head. Why I even bothered trying to get an explanation, I don't know. I think I'll just go home now.

[Logan Andrews]

I don't know if he's being particularly dull and unentertaining to me today, or if I'm just struggling to enjoy a confrontation that I might usually find amusing, or if it's that he keeps trying to talk to me about Arden and I don't want to, but I've completely lost interest and no longer care about even trying to converse.
Which is a shame. Ah well.

[Fitzy Patricks]

"I'd say, 'see you around' but I think I'd rather not," I say dryly, tipping my head in arewell as I turn, one last time, to leave. "Hope to see you lying in a gutter might be more appropriate."

[Logan Andrews]

"Lovely," I respond amiably, this time not making any move or saying anything to make him stay.
I really don't care anymore.