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Date: 2019-04-13 07:14 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

He leans forward in the booth, so he can see properly. He looks excited by it, foot jiggling as Credence works, and when it's done he looks over his shoulder.

"That's cool-- really fucking cool."

Date: 2019-04-13 07:26 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

"Why'd you destroy it?" His eyes linger on it, now-- the title, the rough leather. He bets there's a story there that isn't just I fixed this.

Date: 2019-04-13 07:33 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

He straightens up at that, slowly.

"You fix that, too?" He doesn't exactly need to ask what seeing him had made him feel like, considering the, well, destruction.

Date: 2019-04-13 07:58 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

He nods, stepping forward after holstering the gun again. No sense having it just lying around like this.

"Yeah, lemme see."

Date: 2019-04-13 08:16 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

He stands next to Credence, their shoulders almost pressed together in the small booth as they bend over the book. He stiffens in surprise when Albus looks up at them, tilting his head a little, eyes flickin between the two of them.

That's new. He's going to chalk it up to magic, considering how old the book feels, but it's still weird to see. "Moving pictures," he mutters, to himself, as he looks at him.

"He looks-- regular. Don't he?" Handsome, sure, but normal. He doesn't know what he expected.

Date: 2019-04-13 08:27 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

Now he hisses in a breath through his teeth, bending over further. The way the man carries himself, the way he looks out at them from the photograph-- he knows the actual man isn't in the damn book, but it feels like he's trying to see right through him.

"That's him? The guy who--"

Who, everything. Who tricked him, who used him, who had him in his grasp for far too long. He feels strange, looking at him like this. A little nauseous.

He looks up at Credence, to see what it's like for him, now.

Date: 2019-04-13 08:39 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

Ray isn't looking at the book anymore. He's looking at Credence, at the emotions flickering over his usually stoic face. It's not much, but Ray is good at reading people. He knows doubt and pain when he sees it.

He feels a quick stab of gratefulness to Fraser, for helping him find this. He isn't sure what this will mean to Credence, in the long run, but it means something. Finding what he was looking for.

"What's it say?"

Date: 2019-04-13 09:07 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

It sits heavy in his stomach. For a moment he has a flash of thought, how the hell am I supposed to help with somethin this big, before he stomps that down. It isn't useful. It doesn't help Credence, it doesn't help himself. Believe that you can help and maybe you actually will.

Something good had come out of the chase for Bill, at least. And maybe something good had come out of the rest of the situation as well. Something has changed, Credence no longer talks about Grindelwald like he might have been his saviour, someday.

"He manipulated you your entire life. Took you away from your family, to make you a weapon."

The stone in his stomach is slowly incinerating, turning into anger. Not that that'll do Credence any good, but he feels it.

Date: 2019-04-13 09:18 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

"You haven't been stupid," he says, firmly. Jesus, the furthest from it, as far as Ray is concerned-- he figured this all out, from a book, from a world away.

"You were just trying to live your life. Do what's right."

Date: 2019-04-13 09:38 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

"Because Grindelwald took away your chance to find out on your own. He just tried to put his own ideas on you."

He knocks his hand into the book, raps his knuckles on it. "He ain't here now, though."

Date: 2019-04-13 09:47 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

He swallows and nods, reaching out to squeeze his arm briefly.

"You want me to make the Enclosure into something else on my way out?"

Date: 2019-04-13 10:05 am (UTC)
poetontheinside: (Default)
From: [personal profile] poetontheinside

"No problem, buddy," he says, softly enough.

He'll check in on him that evening, though. To see if he's alright.

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Credence Barebone

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