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[attr="class","ctopline"]'Cause honey it's been a hard year

[attr="class","cscriptquidd"]it seems like we're going nowhere

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[attr="class","clyrics"]You're crying inside your bedroom[break]
Baby I know it's not fair

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[attr="class","cbody"]Date: 9 September 2018[break]
Location: Oighreachd Buchanan
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He had promised her.
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It was just for science, that was what he had told her. It was just to see if it was possible. They weren’t ever going to actually use it on anybody. That was what he had told her and she had went along with it. She had looked the other way, she had acted like it wasn’t happening because the alternative was facing it head on. The alternative was dealing with the fact that what he was doing was scaring her.
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Titania in no way supported the way that Art’s family treated Wendy. It was unfair, and completely uncalled for. Even though she was a pureblood, even though her parents had raised her a certain way, she had grown into her own beliefs over time, and that included thinking that everyone was equal. Regardless of blood, regardless of whether or not they had been born with magic or not. They were all still people.
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The fact that Wendy was a Squib did not make Liza or Kyle better than her. The way that they treated her, the way that their parents treated her, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But getting dangerously closed to obsessed with the creation of a virus that would take magic away from people wasn’t right either. Something like that wasn’t meant to exist. It shouldn’t exist.
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But it had just been for science. Right?
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Right?
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She had wanted to believe him when he had said it. She had wanted to think that he would never unleash something horrible like that on the world, but then Wendy had disappeared. He had gotten even more closed off, even more determined and then people had started getting sick. And she had known what was going on. Vivien had gotten sick, and that had been awful. Horrible. He had let his need for revenge, or justice, or whatever the hell he had thought this was, overtake his senses and his daughter had been the first one to suffer because of it.
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Not that Vivien knew that what was happening to her had anything to do with her father, thankfully. That was the sort of secret she just didn’t want her to ever have to find out about. But Art needed to feel guilty for it. He needed to realize what he had done.
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Titania had been throwing everything into taking care of Vivien while she was sick and taking care of Zemfira. She had told herself that Art would stop. That Viv was sick and there was no way that he was going to continue this crusade, but he had.
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And then two days ago, she had woken up feeling sicker than she recalled ever feeling in her life. It wasn’t an easy progression of symptoms for her. It had hit her like the Knight Bus, and it had only gotten worse over the past couple of days. Today, she had barely been able to get out of bed—in the guest room, because she categorically refused to sleep next to Art when she was this angry with him.
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Instead, she’d been avoiding him and he had been gone so much that she wasn’t honestly sure that he even knew she was sick. Did he care? Did he care what this was doing to his own family? Suddenly, she was so angry that she couldn’t see straight—or maybe that was just because she had stood up too quickly. It was impossible to know for sure.
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She just knew that she’d heard the familiar sound of the Floo and that Art was home. It was only a matter of time until he made his way into the kitchen, though she had no idea what she was going to do when he got here.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]628 ● Artunakara Buchanan ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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Art was very pleased with himself. How could he not be? It was going brilliantly! Truly, the squib flu was spreading so much more rapidly than he could have anticipated. The infection rate was growing at an exponential rate. More and more were pouring into St. Mungo's every hour. They had done it! The wixen world was changed forever. And THEY had changed it. He and Wendy. They had figured out something no one else understood. 

And now--now his family were going to learn just how inferior to his twin that they really were. His father was going to eat every malicious word he had spoken. His mother would learn to bear the glares of disgust and annoyance from the old man. They were all going to be struck down off their high horses. They were all going to fall. 

He had not fallen sick yet, but his parents had. His siblings, too. They were all infected--and he was thrilled to find that none of them had exhibited any resistance or immunity to the virus. Infection rate would not be one hundred percent. He knew that. He knew there would exceptions. He knew there would be those who suffered terribly and others who barely exhibited symptoms. He knew so much, but just the same he had so many questions. 

They still lacked a cure. When Wendy had disappeared, they had not gotten far on the vaccine. He meant to vaccinate his wife. He really did. He hadn't intended to take on that vaccination himself, because infecting himself, which he meant to do, was necessary to avoid suspicion. It wouldn't do for too many in his family to avoid infection. It still hurt, though, to know that Vivien had been the first of them to fall to the virus. Art did regret that. It pained him to see his baby girl sick. 

But he could not regret releasing the virus. This was the single greatest accomplishment of his life. He'd...no, they'd done it. Art had to say that to himself a thousand times a day. Since Delilah had stumbled into the Emergency Room, he'd been excited. When the State of Emergency had been announced, he'd been elated. Even though he couldn't tell anyone... Even though he could not celebrate... he was celebrating on the inside. 

Art kept his smile suppressed at home just as much as at work. He knew Titania didn't understand. She couldn't. She wasn't a twin. She didn't know what it was like to be that connected to someone, to be that close to another person. It wasn't right that Wendy had been a squib and he had possessed magic. He couldn't just let that injustice stand... And when she had vanished, there wasn't time to finish the vaccine. There just wasn't time. 

So, he came home bearing orchids. It wasn't the first time he had brought flowers to his wife since the flu began to spread. He knew she was disappointed. He just hoped she would have a natural immunity to the virus. Then she wouldn't be so mad. She would move past the fact that he had stripped magic from their daughter. He was sure of it. 

The wizard found his way into the kitchen, sitting the pot down on the counter. His eyes went wide when he saw his wife. She looked like shit. Fuck. She was sick. She had contracted the squib flu. Quidditch was done.

576  • outfit 

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[attr="class","ctopline"]'CAUSE HONEY IT'S BEEN A HARD YEAR

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[attr="class","clyrics"]YOU'RE CRYING INSIDE YOUR BEDROOM[break]
BABY I KNOW IT'S NOT FAIR

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[attr="class","cbody"]She had told herself that what he was doing with Wendy had been harmless. It was a way of blowing off steam, a way of making his sister feel better—a way to make him feel better, about the way that the rest of his family treated her. She could understand that.
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After all, it wasn’t as if she agreed with how they treated Wendy. It wasn’t her fault that she had been born without magic. It was just something that happened. It was no reason for her to be treated like she was less than the rest of her family, but that was exactly how they treated her every day. But there were other ways of dealing with that. What they were doing, blowing off steam or not, it had made her nervous. But she had told herself that she had no reason not to trust Art. No reason to think that he would do anything rash because he wasn’t like that. He had never been like that.
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Until now, apparently.
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When people had started getting sick, when Viv had gotten sick, she had known. And now, she was sick too. She knew that it was because of Art, she knew exactly what was happening, and she didn’t know how to come to terms with that. She didn’t know how to wrap her head around the fact that he had been so stupid. So reckless. And for what? What point was he trying to prove now?
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Wendy was gone. There was no reason for him to do something that could hurt the people that he cared about that were still around. No reason for him to do something that was likely going to get him thrown into Azkaban if they ever found out that this wasn’t a natural epidemic. If they realized that it had been created how easy would it be to track it down to him? It would have to be someone smart enough and knowledgeable enough in the field, and he was a magical bugs and diseases healer. That would be enough to look at him—and having a sister who was a Squib, and also virologist? That would just be a reason to look even closer at him.
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What was he going to do if he went down for this? If he went to Azkaban and left his family, for this?
Somehow, even worrying about that just made her angrier—but that time, at herself. Despite everything that he had done, despite the choices that he had made, here she was, still worried about what would happen if he was arrested. If she never got to see him again. Despite all of this, she still loved him.
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Bloody bastard.
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Sleeping in the guest room was her way of keeping her distance from him. She wasn’t even sure that she could be around him without being angry, at least alone. Around the kids, it was easier for her to put on a good face. But once they were asleep, once it was just the two of them, she could barely look at him. It was just easier to sleep in the guest room, to stay away from him, mostly to avoid finding out what would happen if she was around him. Somehow, she didn’t think that it was going to end up all that well.
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But when she heard the sound of the Floo, she knew that it was only a matter of time until he made his way into the kitchen. She had been putting away the dishes—by hand, because for obvious reasons, using her wand was out of the question. She could still get the occasional spell to work but whether or not it did what she wanted to do was something else entirely. The last time she’d tried to put the dishes away with a flick of her wand, it had ended with half the dishes slamming against the wall.
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Then she’d had to go shopping for new plates, and she was not in the mood for something like that to happen again. Though slamming dishes toward the nearest wall to Art as he walked into the room somehow was incredibly tempting for her. But she took a breath and decided against attacking her husband with dishware. For now, anyway.
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That didn’t mean that she wanted to talk to him either. It didn’t mean that she wanted to hear anything that he had to say. She didn’t. There was no explanation that would be good enough. Nothing that could make her feel better about this. No apologies that would be enough—and she did not think that he had any plans to apologize. He didn’t care about who this had impacted, clearly. If he had thought at all about her, about their children, then he would not have done something like this. If he had cared at all, then he would have realized how much his little quest for revenge could cost him. Even being in the same room as him was enough to make her feel sicker, having nothing to do with her symptoms. Anger bubbled under the surface as he set flowers down on the counter. If they were close enough to throw at him, she would have. The temptation to throw things at him was just at an all-time high, apparently. And she thought he knew her well enough to know when that redhead temper was going to come out.
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Instead, she ignored him, continuing to put the dishes away by hand. If she talked to him while holding dishware, she really would have to go and buy new plates again.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]962 ● @ flowers will not save you ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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