You flash some fang and I bat my lashes (And we’re back again)

[8lackwidow]

 

It was almost as if the universe had always planned this. To give her, terrible horrible Charlotte, who screwed people up and over like it was a game, something of a happy ending. A perfect ending. With a man who held her attentions like no other, who had the patience she never did, who knew how to speak to her to win her over to his side. It was only ever supposed to be a silly dalliance in University but months had passed and Charlotte had found herself head over heels for the man who wooed her. Who did what no other had been able to do and she had even been happy to give him her hand, give up all others and be his alone. Life had been something like a story, the tale only going richer with Aranea's birth, and then Vriska's and she adores her daughters, such a perfect mix of them.

It was perfect. More than she ever found herself thinking she ever deserved she thinks to herself, deep down in thoughts she'll never voice.

So it couldn't last. It's obvious now, she knows. She should have seen it, should have listened to her mother (Love is for fools and d'Araignée ladies were never fools). But she didn't and now her husband is dead, her daughters fatherless and she is left alone and she can't she can't he was supposed to be here he was always supposed to be here, they were a team he was supposed-

Charlotte has always been flighty in truth. Always a little nervous by feelings, by her hearts whims. So it's easy to run in truth, so kiss her daughters on their brows as she tucks them in before she flees India and their little fairytale. She needs to be away and so she runs and lets her feet carry her without a thought.

Ireland is as drizzly as ever when she arrives but Charlotte moves through the rain without a single thought for her hair and clothes. She's numb, inside and out as the taxi drives, the quaint beauty of the land meaningless and time slips away easily. Before she knows it the car has stopped, the driver clearing his throat with impatience and Charlotte starts at the sound.

It's dark now she realises as she exits the cab, driver left with a generous tip as he he is quickly forgotten as she steps towards the house. Lord she hopes what she's been told by mutual acquaintances is still true, lest she look the fool and Charlotte moves within a daze as she knocks, eyes not truly focused as she waits for him to answer it.

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[8lackwidow]

She had always kept an eye on him of sorts, even with all the distance she had placed between them. Just because it was her nature, she would say if asked, to know everything about everyone, in case even the smallest scrap of information proved useful to her. In truth, a truth she would never admit to even herself it was because she cared. Even if it was buried deep Murdoc still had some claim to a part of her heart, and wouldn't that have delighted the prick to know.

But Gavrill was always someone she could easily get information out of and so she's heard all the stories. Of Murdoc's little wife (perfectly suited to his station apparently, but never her she would think with a sneer.) And two little boys, similar in age to her own little girls. A little family, just like all of hers.

No, not like hers, not anymore. His wife still lived after all, and his children wouldn't be painful reminders of her non existent passing like hers now was.

In truth she's not at all surprised that he tries to shut the door on her. After all, it's been years. Years in which she moved herself far enough away to prevent this from happening. Not like he ever would have, his stubbornness enough to put even her own to shame at times. So not it's not a surprise, this response, but yet it still stings, tight around her heart as Charlotte quickly lurches forward, leaning her weight against the door as she tries to wedge a foot between it and the frame to stop him.

"Murdoc," her voice is soft for once, soft and not a shred of her usual sultriness. No it just sounds weary, her shoulders almost seeming to shake as she breathes in, and her head bows slightly as she tries to hide the wetness in her voice. "Murdoc... don't. Please."

The word, so close to a beg from her, is just another strangeness to this night she supposes and Charlotte swallows again, stiffening her shoulders as she looks up at her old friend but still she cannot appear as certain as she once did. "I... let me in?"

apparently i don't get notifs for this account, whoops

[wwistful]

Murdoc had his doubts about whether Charlotte knew or even cared where he was now. Maybe a few years ago he would have liked to indulge his narcissistic side and believe that she was still watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to swing in and ruin things. He held onto the hope for a while, even when she cut him and everything they had loose for some unwashed vagrant with no future. Eventually, his suspicions faded along with his interest in romantic adventures and endless butting of heads.

Or so he thought, anyway. It's certainly a familiar feeling when all his bitterness flares up and he feels frustration almost pulsing through his veins. Part of him just wants to break her damn foot with the heavy door. He could, easily. She'd have her advantages in a proper fight, but he holds the power here.. sort of. Physically, yes. It sounds like he's more emotionally stable, even. A first for everything. Normally he's the one sounding morose- he thinks normally as if interacting with one another hasn't been off the table for years now.

He's weaker in so many other ways, primarily his curiosity and his desire to be powerful in all situations. The way she looks up at him sends an interesting tingle up his spine, but he doesn't crumble just yet. He doesn't open the door and he hardens his stare, mouth pressed into a tight frown.

"Why the fuck should I?" He snaps, in his grumpy, Irish twang. His accent has strengthened from staying put here for so long.