ataraxionlogs | ( mostly closed ) when we were young the future was so bright

[It's unprofessional of him, of course. It's unsporting, too. He's spent every day for the past year and a half training assiduously for security; Edgeworth has become strong, and is certainly stronger than this thin, sickly-looking man. So to use force is simply unfair, but Edgeworth's patience is so thin, and that feeling of hatred in him so consuming, that he steps forward and grabs Snape by the upper arm and yanks him back.

And he snaps at him:]

Don't you dare walk away from me.

[ Edgeworth is stronger than him, likely by far. Severus is not frail, but his strength is wiry and underutilized-- he's jerked back and he pulls against it, almost wrenching his shoulder in the immediacy of his instinct to get away, but doesn't break free.

He is livid. The look he gives the other man might as well be sending flames shooting out of his eyes. ]

You're just alike-- [ he hisses, furious, ] Let go of me.

[And Edgeworth shoves him away. No matter his anger, he isn't a bully, and won't ever be; this was to get Snape's attention rather than to rattle him around.

But there's also no apology. He bites out in return, matching fury for fury:]

No. You will hear me out.

[ The force of it sends Severus back into a table, almost tripping over. ] Go to hell.

[ It's immediate, almost growled. Never. He's never listening to a thing this man says, ever again. Whatever possibility there was - if any existed - has evaporated completely and permanently. Severus looks like he'd like to spit on him or curse him or anything. Looks like he's liable to, as well, right hand (wand hand) seizing into a fist and not leaving his side. It doesn't have to, though - wizards don't throw punches. ]

Edited 2014-05-20 03:58 (UTC)

[But Edgeworth doesn't respond to that curse. Instead, he raises his index finger, and he directs it right into Snape's face.]

Sirius has proven himself here time and again. He's saved the lives of a dozen people on-board this ship, myself included. You've done nothing except snipe at his back. Leave him alone, and stop trying to sabotage his friendships out of spite.

[ It doesn't matter what Edgeworth is saying. As soon as his hand flies in Severus's face, he reacts. He's wound tightly now, and what happens when someone who's spent over half the years of his life either in training for or fighting a covert guerrilla war gets pressed into a corner like this and suddenly feels distinctly threatened is that he goes on the defensive. And for a Slytherin, the best defense is a good offense.

His own hand jerks up and an invisible force snaps between them, shoving Edgeworth away like a physical push harder than Severus ever could with his slight frame and slim muscles. It stings, too, like foil over his nerves and leaving his head dry and brittle inside.

It's a warning shot, but it's far from a miss. ]

[That show of magic - it brushes against something irrational and terrified in Edgeworth. It's stupid - it's stupid - but the last time he had something like this used against him, it was in the dark hold of that dark house, people all around him, unable to help them...

So he stumbles back, tripping over his feet, in response to that force. But his retaliation (spurred on by fear rather than spite) comes a moment later; a burst of telekinetic force slams into Snape, hard and brutal and unfocused. It's less an attack than a blind strike, and so depending on where it lands it might do considerable damage to him or very little.

Edgeworth himself doesn't look up when it happens. He's barely even cognizant of the exercise of his power. He's staring down at his feet, trying to get his bearings.]

[ If Severus were expecting that, the effect might not be so dramatic. As it stands, it comes like a cheap shot - Edgeworth knew ahead of time that Severus is a wizard, but in turn he's completely unprepared for whatever the hell that was. He was already in the process of stepping back and preparing to bloody leave when something invisible crashes into him like a moving vehicle.

He hits the wall and his head slams back against it, rendering him immediately disoriented. Vision swims, he tastes blood in his mouth where his teeth have cut soft membrane during the impact. His shoulder, so recently repaired from having splinched on Arima, twinges deeply in protest of the sudden rough treatment.

Severus collapses to his knees, hitting hard with his full weight, coughing through the wracking tension that's arrested his lungs with the wind knocked out of him. Anger wells in him, but it's cold. He snaps his head up and ignores the way it hurts, gaze locked onto the other man. He doesn't say anything, and he doesn't point his wand. He doesn't have to. Severus is an adept, articulate in his magic before he ever attended school, he is potion-making and no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations and old, old things taught to him by someone very, very mean.

Crucio.

He thinks it, directing it like a bullet. Pain, horrific and deep and without center or origin, cast by someone who knows how to hurt. ]

[Miles finds that, suddenly, his knees have gone out, and he's on all fours; it doesn't fully register why. The pain is so exquisite, so utterly world-alteringly intense, that for a moment he doesn't feel it; perhaps his mind simply shuts it out as impossible and refuses to recognize the reality of it. One heartbeat, his stubbornness saves him from it, and a second...

And then his mind crumbles and acknowledges what his body has already reacted to. That every nerve is alight with agony, like each individual strand of sensate material is being threaded out of his skin by whatever has hit him. He's overlaced by a lattice of scalding wire - he's being torn apart, and suffocated, with his fingertips burning with the lack of oxygen. He's back there, back there, tied up again, legs cramped, wrists aching, terrified, terrified -

When the spell hit, Miles dropped to all fours; slowly, now, he curls himself into the fetal position, trying to protect himself from the pain that's coming from every part of him. He's a pathetic sight. But he doesn't make a sound; there isn't even the smallest noise that comes from his lips. It's all swallowed down within him.]

[ It won't last forever. Once the first wave is over it'll subside - unless Severus pushes again, but he doesn't. The fact that Edgeworth just flops over registers as fine, because it means he doesn't have to do anything else to him. If he were thinking clearly he might remind himself to be concerned over whether or not the other man is still alive, but thanks to the ringing in his head, he's not thinking clearly at all. So, no checking. Be dead. Who cares.

Instead he staggers to his feet, still coughing. He can take a hit just fine, he's used to it in a pathetic way, but it's never pleasant.

He hasn't done that - used that spell - for years now, and doing so feels both very natural and slightly repulsive. It should feel the other way around, but Severus is who he is.

One hand raises to touch the side of his head; he thinks he has a concussion. He should leave and immediately, but his bearings aren't all together yet. He can't Disapparate, not like this. ]

[It goes away. He doesn't know how long it takes (years, he thinks, or seconds) but it goes away, fades with no lingering effects. No damage done. One moment, Miles is tensed, throat clamped closed on any noises; the next, his muscles relax, and he collapses bonelessly against the floor.

His first thought, once the pain is gone, is that he should just stay down, close to the floor, so that he won't be noticed.

His second thought is that that was, of course, the Cruciatus spell Sirius had described, once; the use of it would send someone to prison. So Snape is a criminal, it seems.

His third thought is the simplest: get up. And it's the third thought he acts on, slowly pushing himself to his hands and knees. He reaches up, finds his face wet - quickly scrubs at it with the back of his hand to hide the signs - and then, shakily, grabs at an armchair to use to lever himself to his feet.

He wants to make some cutting remark. He wants to say something biting. Instead, he just looks at Snape, a mixture of fear and anger and defiance and - most of all - exhaustion on his face.]

[ Severus was invited under false pretenses to a secluded area, attacked, then attacked again when he fought back. Edgeworth, now, is also a criminal.

And Sirius Black is in prison.

Maybe they can all get matching t-shirts.

Severus stays where he is, leaning with one hand on the edge of the overturned table he was recently pushed by some preternatural force into. As soon as the other man moves his gaze is on him again, unwavering and almost unblinking. He is wary and on alert, but obviously still in pain - his posture is hunched, there's blood between his lips. The look he's giving Edgeworth is disdainful, hostile, but also slightly confused.

He says nothing. ]

[And one moment passes, and another, and then, finally, Edgeworth asks:]

How do you live with yourself?

[His voice is quiet; the question is not scolding, and is not idiomatic, but is instead genuine speculation. But it's hardly left his lips before he's shaking his head again, looking away. Instead of waiting for an answer, he says:]

If you ever use that spell on any other passenger on this ship, I will come after you, and you will never see the outside of the jail cell you've been put in.

[ For a little while, he's quiet. He considers several things. ]

If you ever do what you just did to me to any other passenger on this ship.

[ That's it. That's all Miles gets.

Because he started this one. ]

[Edgeworth narrows his eyes in response to that.]

What, if I ever grab their arms and ask them to listen to me? Yes, a terrible trespass I've committed. Certainly warranting a spell of torture.

[But even so, the accusation strikes him with guilt. He firms his chin, and glares even more ferociously - but one cannot accuse Edgeworth of having done harm and not have him suffer guilt.]

[ Severus holds his gaze, expression unreadable.

Calmly, ]

You just threw me across the room with your mind. I have a concussion and I've probably at least fractured a rib. If you did that unconsciously, you need to be in that jail cell. Right now.

[Certainly, that hatred Edgeworth feels for Snape doesn't fade. The man is a torturer, a Dark mage, and one does not just...forget that. But for a moment, Edgeworth stiffens, and remorse and fear wash over his face; he stammers a moment:]

I - That's -

[He wasn't aware. And even though he tells himself, firmly, that an accidental use of defensive powers does not compare to the deliberate employ of torture on someone, the guilt for his deeds -

Stupidly, foolishly, he finds himself suddenly dropping into a miserable bow.]

Please do not move. I'll fetch medical treatment.

Sit down.

[ Quietly, still. Severus is in pain, but pain is something he's very used to. Comes with the whole abusive childhood thing, then the shit kicked out of him every day at school thing, then the war thing. Pain is just something that happens; he's not actively bothered by it at the moment.

Finally, blood pools at the corner of his mouth and Severus wipes it away with the back of his hand, leaving a bright red stain. ]

I will answer your question.

[ How do you live with yourself. ]

[He straightens. When he meets Snape's eyes again, there's a fierceness to his expression. Not kindness - there will not be any kindness in him towards this torturer, this manipulator. But there is ferocity.]

No. I'm going for treatment. Stay put.

[And then, on shaky feet, he goes for the door.]

I am not inclined to press charges, but if you do not sit down, I will report you to your superior.

[ Severus has an infuriating habit of carrying on like he isn't bothered by things, his voice constantly even. ]

[Edgeworth's brief glance over his shoulder shows how utterly unimpressed he is with that threat; his only response is:]

I will be back in a moment.

You can't hide from what you just did, [ calmly floats after him.

If Edgeworth does leave, returning won't do any good. By the time he gets back, the room will be back to a pristine state, and Severus will be gone.

He's yet to decide whether or not that threat was empty. ]

[And Edgeworth turns back before he goes, because he's not going to let that be uncommented upon.]

Report me, then.

[ Aiight. He will. Severus coughs, his ribcage tightening painfully.

But also: ]

Professor Charles Xavier, in my department, works with people who have supernatural abilities and are still learning about them. If you need help.

[ :) ]

[That takes him by surprise enough that he shrinks back, flinches instead of going. And he snaps out, defensively:]

I don't need help.

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