[There is nothing on the screen at first, no sound. Then the sight of an arm with the sleeve pulled up to reveal a mark. It looks almost ordinary here, the Dark Mark. No magic to power it.
Of course, for those familiar, the sight alone still holds more than enough sway.
The video is switched off and the only thing that accompanies the post is in writing. No voice, nothing to give away the identity of the person who posted this, other than the arm most likely belonging to someone male.]
[ Regulus Black has often complained that his new life in outer space is hell, but the moment he sees the Dark Mark looking back at him from the communicator, he knows he was wrong. Hell has only just started.
He sinks onto a bench in the gardens, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him, and presses a hand against his mouth as he struggles to hold in his screams.
Minutes pass before his trembling fingers manage a reply. ]
I don't know if you have realized it yet, but the people here are from various points in time and space, and even universes.
[ And right now he really wishes he were in a different universe than this Death Eater. But he must know his name, if only so he can judge whether this man would know his.
Would it be too much to ask for someone coming from before his betrayal? Most likely, yes. ]
[ If he were in his right mind Regulus would notice the trap, he's been very selective in what information he gives away for months, and managed to twist the flow of information into a selective, skewed version of the truth.
Unfortunately, Regulus Black isn't in his right mind. More like out of his mind from fear. This is worse than when Anakin Skywalker told him about blowing up space stations like the one they are on.]
Yes! All kinds of people. Mostly from the Galactic Republic.
[ Wild, sudden hope has him breathless again. If he is smart, and careful, he might be able to pass himself off as one of them. At least for a little while. ]
[ Can he claim to be a Jedi without slipping up? It all depends on whether this man has already spoken to them. It might provide him some protection, or at least make the Death Eater more willing to talk. And he needs answers before he learns there is a Regulus Black in town. ]
[So he knows what a muggle is. Barty is already convinced now. But there is so much more to find out and it is entertaining to be on the winning side of a game like this.]
[ It's working! It's actually working! Regulus laughs out loud, a sound that comes out closer to a sob, and if there was a Jedi around he would kiss them.
He barely pays attention what he is typing, mind already steps ahead, trying to puzzle out the Death Eater's identity, and point in time. He wouldn't know how to share his limited understanding of the Force anyway, except by comparing it to his own magic. ]
It's magic. It has a Light and a Dark Side. There are so many universes and each has their own magic. Are you magical?
A little bit. You seem to know a lot about magic. Have you studied it?
[Somebody trying to convince him that he is one from this world. There are only a select few who'd take this approach. Smart enough to be deceptive, not rash enough to confront him. Scared, but not entirely mindless.]
[ A little bit! A little bit! That is not helpful!
The deflection, the ease of it, it rules out many of the more mindless followers, except that Regulus can't think right now. He can't even get his hands to stop shaking. ]
A little bit. There is nothing else to do but talk all day. You pick up some things.
So you've talked to someone from my world. You must have, else why would you know what the word muggle means?
Who did you talk to?
[A very direct question, but there wouldn't be a reason to deny an answer, given what Regulus wants to portray himself as. Besides, it shows him his earlier mistake. Shows him, if he thinks just a little bit, that Barty hasn't bought it. Two conversations taking place, only one in actual writing.
The other is in their minds, but it's clear enough. Check.]
It really wasn't fair, a duel between him and Regulus. The only thing Regulus had going for him was his desperation, but of course that was also what worked against him. Barty's duelling skills had always been up there and even though he had been out of practise for years, he had had opportunity to refresh recently. All he had to do was knock Regulus out and then he could make preparations.
There were many ways to torture someone and Barty excelled in most of them. When he tied Regulus up, it was with knots that were firm and out of reach. Tight, but not restricting the blood flow. His arms behind himself and together, his legs above and below the knees and around the ankles. No way to get much leverage.
He had his reasons for blindfolding him, the black cloth he used blocking out everything, even the light. It was like this that he positioned Regulus in the bathtub, lying on his back. He knew enough about the man's death to find it appropriate to start by filling it with water rapidly. He could remind him of what drowning felt like to start things off.
It took Regulus far longer than it should to to make sense of his immobile body, and the pounding headache that made thinking near impossible, and even longer to make sense of the sound of rushing water.
His heart raced.
Their duel had been furious, no holds barred. Barty had been out for blood, but so had Regulus, and if you had watched them you would have never guessed they had been just short of calling another lovers three months ago.
It hadn't been enough.
He squirmed, desperately testing the bonds and tried to get off the blindfold, but the smooth surface wouldn't let him get anything to catch on, and the water kept rising, it was already up to his ears. "Barty!"
"Yes?" Barty sounded... Not bored, no. His voice was empty of emotion more than that. It might have been just three months for Regulus, but it had been far longer than that for Barty. As he looked down at the desperately squirming body, the memories of holding him, even those of wanting him... They seemed to come from another life. Through some twist of fate, Barty had aged well where his outer appearance was concerned, but the same couldn't be said for everything inside him.
He put a hand on Regulus' shoulder, making sure to hold him still as he watched the water rise. He could have sped up the process using magic, but drawing out was part of the torture here.
He tried to flinch away from the hand on his shoulder, but within the narrow confines of his prison, there was nowhere to go. Just slick walls to both sides, and water rising... A tub?
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but to escape the water.
"Please Barty stop it!" Panic took over his voice as the water rose higher and he struggled, desperately trying to haul himself up to escape the water, but the hand on his shoulder might as well have been a giant's.
The icy water lapped at his cheeks, then the corners of his mouth. He lifted his head as well as he could. "Please don't!"
Definite sign of panic, which wasn't surprising, given the circumstances. Regulus had to know that Barty wouldn't kill him as simple as that, didn't he? He probably didn't have the calm to consider the situation. Which was exactly what Barty had been banking on. He wanted to reawaken his trauma. The begging was a good sign.
"Take a deep breath. While you can." Maybe there was a part of him that felt sorry. It was easy to imagine the scenario. Releasing Regulus and listen to his gratitude. Making him swear loyalty, swear regret, over and over again. Even holding him in his arms and offering comfort.
Instead he watched as the water swallowed him up and he held him down firmly.
He didn't know when it happened, but at some point the blackness before his eyes blurred with the cave, and he couldn't tell anymore if the hand on his shoulder was pushing or dragging him down.
He was fighting for his life again, desperately keeping his mouth shut even as his lungs burned and the water had long since closed over him there was only the icy cold water and death and the pain of the potion burning within him...
He struggled and struggled, the skin of his wrists chafing against the ropes, but he wasn't aware of the ropes anymore, just of being restrained... held down...
Barty watched him carefully, finally tightening his grip on his shoulder so he could pull him up. He only gave him enough time for one breath, then pushed him back under again. The despair was beautiful, the immersion complete. He could see it in his mind, on his face, in his movements. He repeated the process until Regulus was close to fainting, almost stopped moving.
Barty pulled him upright and made sure he was stable before he let go of him. "Up to a promising start. Don't you think so?"
The slap that followed wasn't particularly violent. Mostly something to pull him back into the moment, as well as a gesture that showed who was in charge.
He gasped for air, his burning chest heaved with the effort of trying to pump as much oxygen into his lungs as he could, all with the fear that he would be pushed back into the water at any moment. Still woozy, he swayed, though he wasn't quite in danger of falling on his own.
Water dripped down from his hair and blindfold, his clothes clung to his skin. Although it wasn't exactly cold in the room, the icy, wet clothes combined with the shock had him shivering within moments.
He looked up at Barty, or where his voice came from, though the blindfold still made it impossible to see him. But he needed this connection, craved it, it was the only thing keeping him in the here and now even as cruel as it was.
"We'll have fun for a while. At least I will, but I'm sure you won't be bored either. And then I'll cast Silencio on you and leave you here to rest. If you can do that without drowning." The pleas might as well have been falling onto deaf ears. Barty didn't let them register. Maybe it would have been different if he'd removed the blindfold, but he didn't plan on doing that any time soon. "Are you cold?"
It was a simple question, although there was not even the mockery of caring in it. If there was one noticeable change about Barty, it was that his voice seemed to rarely show any hint of emotion.
"Of course I'm bloody well cold you...!" He cut himself off, clenched his chattering teeth tight enough that it hurt. He focused on breathing, only on breathing. He couldn't make it worse by antagonizing Barty... though he could hardly imagine it getting worse.
Once, a mere three months ago, Barty would have been moved by his pleas. Regulus was certain of it. He may have called himself Barty's prey, but he knew he had been so much more. They had been so much more, or could have been if he'd stopped keeping Barty at arm's length.
"I don't know you anymore," he whispered. His eyes stung, but with his blindfold wet, he couldn't even tell if it was from tears. He wanted to believe it was the coldness of the water.
"Evidently neither of us ever knew the other." Without a warning, Barty grabbed Regulus' hair and pulled him forward, using his wand to cut through the rope tying his arms and hands together. He wasted no time in using a spell to tie them in front of him instead, shoving him back and looking at him. Arms folded in front of himself, as if he was praying. Begging. How appropriate.
Barty ripped one of Regulus' sleeves. It was clear what he was after. The dark mark stood out in stark contrast on his pale skin. Barty held the tip of his wand against it, remembering how he'd received the mark, remembering how he had felt his Lord's own wand against it not that long ago. A different world, but it seemed close right now.
"Morsmordre." Muttered under his breath, but it still came to life, never mind that they were the only ones here. "How does it feel, traitor?"
He gritted his teeth against the pain of the activated Mark, a pain that spread from the tattoo on his wrist and spread out through his whole body. Somehow, somewhere, he found a vestige of strength which permitted him to raise his head and meet Barty's eyes. "Like always," he ground out. "I'm afraid you can't compare to the Dark Lord."
So much for not antagonizing him, but he was a Black. He was the purest of the pure, and he should not be humiliated by a man he had once permitted to have his body, and might have given his heart to if there had been more time to wear him down.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Of course, for those familiar, the sight alone still holds more than enough sway.
The video is switched off and the only thing that accompanies the post is in writing. No voice, nothing to give away the identity of the person who posted this, other than the arm most likely belonging to someone male.]
Who here is familiar with this sign?
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He sinks onto a bench in the gardens, his legs suddenly too weak to hold him, and presses a hand against his mouth as he struggles to hold in his screams.
Minutes pass before his trembling fingers manage a reply. ]
Should I?
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[Just another response that doesn't tell him anything upfront, but he can prod and see if there really is nothing but ignorance.]
It doesn't strike a chord?
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[ And right now he really wishes he were in a different universe than this Death Eater. But he must know his name, if only so he can judge whether this man would know his.
Would it be too much to ask for someone coming from before his betrayal? Most likely, yes. ]
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So there are all kinds of people here, muggles and wizards and such not even familiar with those terms. Correct?
[It's. A. Trap.]
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Unfortunately, Regulus Black isn't in his right mind. More like out of his mind from fear. This is worse than when Anakin Skywalker told him about blowing up space stations like the one they are on.]
Yes! All kinds of people. Mostly from the Galactic Republic.
[ Wild, sudden hope has him breathless again. If he is smart, and careful, he might be able to pass himself off as one of them. At least for a little while. ]
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From the Galactic Republic. I see. Are you a muggle then?
[Let's see.]
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No, I'm not. I use the Force.
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The Force? What is that? I've never heard of it.
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He barely pays attention what he is typing, mind already steps ahead, trying to puzzle out the Death Eater's identity, and point in time. He wouldn't know how to share his limited understanding of the Force anyway, except by comparing it to his own magic. ]
It's magic. It has a Light and a Dark Side. There are so many universes and each has their own magic. Are you magical?
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[Somebody trying to convince him that he is one from this world. There are only a select few who'd take this approach. Smart enough to be deceptive, not rash enough to confront him. Scared, but not entirely mindless.]
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The deflection, the ease of it, it rules out many of the more mindless followers, except that Regulus can't think right now. He can't even get his hands to stop shaking. ]
A little bit. There is nothing else to do but talk all day. You pick up some things.
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Who did you talk to?
[A very direct question, but there wouldn't be a reason to deny an answer, given what Regulus wants to portray himself as. Besides, it shows him his earlier mistake. Shows him, if he thinks just a little bit, that Barty hasn't bought it. Two conversations taking place, only one in actual writing.
The other is in their minds, but it's clear enough. Check.]
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There were many ways to torture someone and Barty excelled in most of them. When he tied Regulus up, it was with knots that were firm and out of reach. Tight, but not restricting the blood flow. His arms behind himself and together, his legs above and below the knees and around the ankles. No way to get much leverage.
He had his reasons for blindfolding him, the black cloth he used blocking out everything, even the light. It was like this that he positioned Regulus in the bathtub, lying on his back. He knew enough about the man's death to find it appropriate to start by filling it with water rapidly. He could remind him of what drowning felt like to start things off.
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It took Regulus far longer than it should to to make sense of his immobile body, and the pounding headache that made thinking near impossible, and even longer to make sense of the sound of rushing water.
His heart raced.
Their duel had been furious, no holds barred. Barty had been out for blood, but so had Regulus, and if you had watched them you would have never guessed they had been just short of calling another lovers three months ago.
It hadn't been enough.
He squirmed, desperately testing the bonds and tried to get off the blindfold, but the smooth surface wouldn't let him get anything to catch on, and the water kept rising, it was already up to his ears. "Barty!"
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He put a hand on Regulus' shoulder, making sure to hold him still as he watched the water rise. He could have sped up the process using magic, but drawing out was part of the torture here.
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It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but to escape the water.
"Please Barty stop it!" Panic took over his voice as the water rose higher and he struggled, desperately trying to haul himself up to escape the water, but the hand on his shoulder might as well have been a giant's.
The icy water lapped at his cheeks, then the corners of his mouth. He lifted his head as well as he could. "Please don't!"
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"Take a deep breath. While you can." Maybe there was a part of him that felt sorry. It was easy to imagine the scenario. Releasing Regulus and listen to his gratitude. Making him swear loyalty, swear regret, over and over again. Even holding him in his arms and offering comfort.
Instead he watched as the water swallowed him up and he held him down firmly.
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He was fighting for his life again, desperately keeping his mouth shut even as his lungs burned and the water had long since closed over him there was only the icy cold water and death and the pain of the potion burning within him...
He struggled and struggled, the skin of his wrists chafing against the ropes, but he wasn't aware of the ropes anymore, just of being restrained... held down...
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Barty pulled him upright and made sure he was stable before he let go of him. "Up to a promising start. Don't you think so?"
The slap that followed wasn't particularly violent. Mostly something to pull him back into the moment, as well as a gesture that showed who was in charge.
"This time you won't die so easily."
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Water dripped down from his hair and blindfold, his clothes clung to his skin. Although it wasn't exactly cold in the room, the icy, wet clothes combined with the shock had him shivering within moments.
He looked up at Barty, or where his voice came from, though the blindfold still made it impossible to see him. But he needed this connection, craved it, it was the only thing keeping him in the here and now even as cruel as it was.
"Don't do this, Barty, please..."
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It was a simple question, although there was not even the mockery of caring in it. If there was one noticeable change about Barty, it was that his voice seemed to rarely show any hint of emotion.
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Once, a mere three months ago, Barty would have been moved by his pleas. Regulus was certain of it. He may have called himself Barty's prey, but he knew he had been so much more. They had been so much more, or could have been if he'd stopped keeping Barty at arm's length.
"I don't know you anymore," he whispered. His eyes stung, but with his blindfold wet, he couldn't even tell if it was from tears. He wanted to believe it was the coldness of the water.
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Barty ripped one of Regulus' sleeves. It was clear what he was after. The dark mark stood out in stark contrast on his pale skin. Barty held the tip of his wand against it, remembering how he'd received the mark, remembering how he had felt his Lord's own wand against it not that long ago. A different world, but it seemed close right now.
"Morsmordre." Muttered under his breath, but it still came to life, never mind that they were the only ones here. "How does it feel, traitor?"
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So much for not antagonizing him, but he was a Black. He was the purest of the pure, and he should not be humiliated by a man he had once permitted to have his body, and might have given his heart to if there had been more time to wear him down.
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