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[attr="class","ctopline"]And I won't break the commission

[attr="class","cscriptministry"]nothing good ever lasts

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[attr="class","clyrics"]I see you beg for forgiveness[break]
No quarter given, no rust

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[attr="class","cbody"]He had not been having a good day when Van had strolled into the kitchen. It had been a decidedly bad day, actually. He had woken up knowing that it would be. Michael had been exhausted, he had felt heavy all day, and it had felt like blow after blow had kept on coming down on him. It had felt like nothing was going to go his way, and that he might as well have called it quits very early on this Tuesday. There was just no hope that it was going to turn around. It had been a day where he had felt like giving up, a day where he wondered why he didn’t.
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Van had come by because he wanted to invite him to his and Cat’s vow renewal. When he had first heard him, Michael had thought that he must have misheard him, because there was just no way that his brother had come all the way here to personally invite him to his former betrothed’s vow renewal. There was just no way that was why he had come here. There was no way that this day had just gotten worse. He had not thought it was possible for him to feel worse than he had after reading about Jaxon’s injury. It had been like a punch to the gut, it had felt like a hand holding him underwater. It had just felt like this day was riding on him to fail, hitting him with one thing after the next until he had nothing to do except to give up entirely. And then he had heard about the vow renewal.
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He had not committed to going one way or another. He had not said that he wouldn’t, but he hadn’t said that he would either. Michael knew that he should go. He was The Lord Parkinson. People would whisper if he did not go to his brother’s vow renewal. They would speculate and they would gossip, and did they really need more of that? Would their father have wanted him to do something that would fuel the gossip mill like that? Or would he want him to go? To put aside his opinions to make sure that the public saw the Parkinsons as strong and cohesive and not fractured and fighting amongst themselves?
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Michael would have thought that he’d know that answer. He should have known what to do. He was supposed to have these answers. It was his job. The fact that he didn’t know this, that he didn’t know the right thing to do without hurting someone, was proof that he was not made for this. That he was letting himself down, his father down, the entire family down. He didn’t even know what his father would want him to do, and that just was the nail in the coffin on this day. There was no making it any better. There was no fixing this day.
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Every single part of him wanted to go back up to his room. He wanted to retreat into the darkness of his room, of his mind, and just not come out until everything was better. Until he was better. Better at being the lord, better at being a brother, better at being a friend, better at knowing how to deal with the fact that his ex-boyfriend was in the hospital and just… better. Better than what he was now.
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Instead, he had forced himself to come here instead. To do something to help instead of relying on his worst impulses. He had Flooed to his sister’s without even knowing if she was home, and dropped down onto the couch, suddenly exhausted. He didn’t even have the energy to hunt her down to see if she was actually here.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]629 ● @sierra ● outfit awkward, he forgot to change out of pajamas

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

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You told me

you would find another way

don't leave me burn

She was writing another article, and she thought that she was making some headway with it, when she had heard the Floo light up from the other room she didn’t think anything of it. Lassider and Antonin came and went as they pleased, and even if her отец still had his magic, she knew that it was not out of the realm of possibility that he would have stepped through the nearest Floo. There were, after all, some places that you couldn’t get to by apparating. And Sierra knew for certain that there were homes that were off limits to apparation. This castle was the exception to that. You could apparate here, but only if the wards were open, or you were keyed into them.

Still, it did not raise any alarms in her mind when she heard it from down the hall. She thought that whomever it was must have gone about their business. Her отец, most likely, since she figured that Lassider would have at least told her that he was home. And Alexandria knew better than to come and go without saying where it was that she was going, and whom it was that she was going with. Her daughter was clever and had made friends in all of the right places when she had gone to school, but that didn’t stop her from insisting on being told with whom she was spending the day before she left.

It was her motherly right to worry after such things. But it was Mitsy coming into her study to tell her that Lord Michael was here that had her furrowing her brow and pushing back in her chair. That was no good. Her brother was not someone to turn up unexpectedly, and then not come to find her himself. If he had even bothered to look for her at all. Which, her elf seemed to want to report, he had not. And the fact that he was here, but he hadn’t said anything, made it altogether so much worse.

Allowing her senses to open up, Sierra wasn’t ready for the tidal wave that came crashing over her. Upset didn’t even begin to cover it. Whatever her brother was feeling, she knew that she was going to have her work cut out for her before she even saw him. Before Sierra could get out of the study and down the hall, she could feel the weight of it all. The crushing feeling that seemed to be coming at her from all sides. If this was how Michael felt, if this was the hopelessness, and the confusion that he felt, no wonder he was in such a state.

“Майкл…” Normally, the Dolohov family spoke only Russian within the walls of the castle. But there were exceptions to every rule, and the fact that her brother did not speak Russian made this one of those times. And she knew that he didn’t. But still the name fell from her lips in Russian anyway. His name, a name that she had long since learned in every language she may need it in. Because he was her favorite sibling. He was the one that she needed to look out for. The one that she needed to make sure was taking care of himself. The one that couldn’t handle the weight of the world on his own.

And she knew that Kali tried to help him where she could. She knew that their younger sister was going to do her best. But that didn’t change the fact that she was going to have to try and do something about it. She was going to have to try and help him wherever she could. Reading his mind was impossible. She wasn’t a legilimens, even with her magic. But she was an empath. She could read his emotions. And she knew these. She knew the feeling of drowning. She knew that he was suffering. And there were only a handful of people that she thought to immediately blame. But she set all of her hatred for Van aside. She had no proof that it was their brother that had caused this.

Taking him in, she realized that he wasn’t even dressed, and somehow that was even worse. He hadn’t even processed enough to get dressed before he had come over here, and then he hadn’t said anything to her… Sitting down on the edge of the coffee table, she let her eyes roam over him as she took in his emotions, tried to process them, and then sort through them, even as his began to speak. “Michael… What happened?” Physically she thought that he was fine, but if he wasn’t, that was something that they needed to attend to first. Only he didn’t feel injured. He just felt… Everything. He felt everything.

@ Майкл • 805 • sierra's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

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[attr="class","ctopline"]AND I WON'T BREAK THE COMMISSION

[attr="class","cscriptministry"]nothing good ever lasts

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[attr="class","clyrics"]I SEE YOU BEG FOR FORGIVENESS[break]
NO QUARTER GIVEN, NO RUST

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[attr="class","cbody"]His relationship with his brother was complicated. It always had been, though maybe not to this extent. There was just no denying that he and Van had never been all that close. Despite them being the only boys, their age difference had kept them apart, as had their other differences—just in personality and in priorities, he supposed. Even as Michael got older, before Van had been disowned, they had never been close. That was before everything had gone wrong. Part of him wondered if that was why it had been so easy for Van to run off, to leave everything to him. They weren’t close enough for him to care what Michael would think about that. Maybe if they had been closer, he would have cared. Maybe it would have mattered to him, if they’d ever had that kind of relationship—where they talked to each other, where they cared about each other.
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Yes, they were family, but he knew that didn’t mean the same to every single person. Michael would do anything for anyone in his family, despite his thoughts on them and what they were doing. Maybe Van’s mind didn’t work the same way. Maybe it was easier for him to do what he had done, just because they had never been close. There was no way to know, he supposed—and there was no reason to think about it. He knew that. He knew that nothing was ever going to change, that nothing would change, if he put a reason to Van’s actions. Figuring out the ‘why’ did not change reality, and it didn’t change the past. There was no reason for it.
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But sometimes, it was hard not to wonder. Times like this, when he saw Van in person, and it really became clear to him how little Van thought about his actions and what they had done to him. How little he thought about what he had done wrong, or the consequences of his actions. Michael didn’t think that Van spent a spare second of the day thinking about any of that, and it was when he saw him—on those rare occasions, that he was really reminded of that. It was hard not to be reminded of it, when reality was staring him straight in the face.
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Dealing with Van was hard for him on a good day. Even when his head space was exactly where he wanted it to be, even if he’d had a fantastic day, it was never easy to see Van. Sometimes, it was just easier than other days, than the bad days. But today had not been a good day—it had not been an easy day. It had been a day where the hits just felt like they kept on coming. When it felt like nothing was ever going to go right again, and he wanted to just stay in his room until things seemed even a little bit better. Instead, he hadn’t been able to do that. First there had been the news about Jaxon, then there had been Van’s surprise visit, and instead of seeking refuge back in his room, he’d found himself at Sierra’s before he could even think about it.
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Michael did not like to worry his siblings, and the moment that he dropped down onto the couch, he realized that was exactly what he was going to do. He had come here without even a second thought about it—he hadn’t even registered the fact that he was still in his pajamas. He looked in a right state, and he knew that there was no way of convincing Sierra he was okay. And he was going to be. Eventually. Probably. That just seemed like an incredibly far-away concept right then and there.
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His gaze moved to his sister when she finally spoke, not even fully realizing she had come into the room until that moment. Merlin, he probably looked absolutely insane. But what had happened? Jaxon was in the hospital, Van had stopped by the house, those were events that had made this day worse, but it had started off bad—and that hadn’t had a rhyme or reason. That had just been his mind deciding that it was going to be a bad day before he even got out of bed. There was no way to answer that question that would fully explain how he was feeling, not without worrying his sister immensely. His depression was hardly a secret from his family, but it wasn’t something that he talked about all of the time either. “Van stopped by. Invited me to his and Cat’s… second wedding? Vow renewal? I don’t know.” He had stopped fully listening once he’d realized exactly what Van was asking of him.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]795 ● @ sierra ● outfit

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

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