“The dole ‘as been a bit short since ya came of age,” his father complained as if this would somehow sway his son’s opinion. Ephraim was tempted to say that it’d be plenty if he would stop giving the welfare money to the pub but there was no point. He might as well tell the weather to warm up and melt all the snow that was getting in everybody’s way. It had the same effect.

“Then beg, borrow or steal like Elias and I ‘ad to but the answer is no,” Ephraim growled. He should have been surprised by the request but it really bespoke of how bad off his dad must be. Even the thought couldn't sway him. He had worked damn hard for his money, something his father could never claim. Besides, most of it went towards bills or textbooks. It was like he was finally released from a leg locking spell and Ephraim was able to take a step forward. He sat down on the chair his mate had provided earlier. Though, unconsciously, he sat the furtherest away that he possible could from his father.

Burt O’Malley’s face changed from hopeful to the same kind of scowl that was on his son’s face.

“Ya ain’t start crying ‘bout ‘ow ‘ard yer life was, are ya?” Burt mocked, his words prying as if hoping to find some crack in his son’s armor. In response, Ephraim’s spine stiffened and he squared his shoulders as if preparing for an on slot.

“It wasn’t a walk in the park for me either. Eva’ think of that? I was saddled with two squealing brats when yer bitch of mum left. I expected ‘er to come and take the both of you off me ‘ands. But no, guess she’d didn’t fancy ‘aving ya either,”

Ephraim stood up so quickly that the chair rocked back before clanging loudly against the floor.

“Nobody blames ‘er neither, leaving your sorry arse. You’re just mad that she ran away from you with the butcher,” he bellowed. It was rahter a good thing that they didn’t have neighbors because his voice bounced around the bare walls of the flat.

“The butcher? Wot are ya talking about...oh I ‘ad almost forgotten ‘bout ‘im. Nah, they found Bob Docket’s body taking a swim in the Thames. Owed some bees to the wrong people, ‘e did. Just ‘appened to disappear same time she did.” His father shrugged in such a way that the topic wasn’t worth the discussion. They might as well have been discussing the weather from the apathy that was present in his voice. Ephraim wanted to shake him.

“Get out.”

Burt O’Malley raised both hands in mock surrender before slapping his hands upon his knees and hoisting himself up. He did it in such a manner that it made it seem like to do so was the most inconvenient thing. He started to move towards the door, Ephraim giving him wide berth but the older man stopped up short when he was parallel with his son.

“Ya stand there like a self righteous bastard, thinking that yer betta than everyone else," Burt intoned with a curled lip of disdain.

“Only the ones I’m better than,” the wizard sneered looking his father up and down to make sure that Burt knew exactly who he was talking about. The two circled each other, both ignoring Walt.

“But ya ain’t any better than me and deeps down ya know it. We all ‘ave our vices in this family. Yer grandfather couldn’t pass up a dog track, I partake in some drink from time to time, you brover lusts over violence. And ya can’t walk by a pair of tits without wanting a shag. One of these days, you’ll come to the end of yer rope without much to yer name because that is who we are, boy. Ain’t no magic train or some college degree will fix that.”

His father's words stung harder than most of his hits ever had. Since even before he was a wizard, Ehraim had struggled with where he came from and where he was going. As he had gotten older, the doubt had gotten stronger but Ephraim had always manged to keep it locked in the back of his mind where he stored other unpelasant thoughts.

Ephraim and his father faced off, his father overly smug over his statement. He had known he had hit a mark and was gloating over his victory. There wasn’t a sound in the flat save for the clicking of the clock that Ephraim had been repairing on his work desk.

“What’s incantation for ‘aving a body turn inside out again?” He asked his mate in a low cold voice, not taking his eyes off his father.


Last Edited By: sereneLuna . Edited 1 times.