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[blackdogstar]

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[pawntakesking]

[He doesn't even complain about "Reg". That's where he's at, right now.]

[He doesn't answer for a moment. He's trying not to answer, not to let everything come tumbling out all at once - trying to get his thoughts in order, and marshalled into something calmer and more rational than he feels.]

The... [When he gestures, shadow follows his movement, afterimages drifting like smoke. Or fog.] The bubbles. The past.

She lied. I believed her. But she lied.

[The room is very cold. Around them, the shadows - there are a lot of shadows, this is a house inhabited by shades and vampires, after all - pulse and shift oddly, as though fidgeting.]

[As his voice rises, just slightly, Regulus is starting to pulse and shift, too. From slender youth to black-cloaked, skull-faced void; from pale to dark; jittering and shifting like shadows on a windy day.]

And it was the same lie! Just like Aunamee, just like...

[He trails off there. He never knows how to refer to Him, these days. Dark Lord is too respectful for how he feels; Riddle too blunt; Voldemort too much like an invitation.]

I keep believing people. Believing in people. And it's always the wrong people, and I should know, because it's always the same lie, and I'm just...

[Without entirely realising it, he's gone intangible. There's a dark mist hanging in the air, vaguely human-shaped, and even that is flickering into the now unnaturally-dark shadows around them. His voice seems to come from a distance, and from nowhere in particular.]

I'm stupid. Was I always this bloody stupid?

[blackdogstar]

[He is so, very, deeply not qualified for this. Sirius fights the urge to answer immediately yes and simply breathes in deep through his nose. His antennae tremble on his head, his wings fluttering nervously behind him. He doesn't know what to do, what to say. He isn't even sure he follows everything Regulus is saying.]

None of us can go around not believing in people. I think we have to just... to be... [He's say human but they aren't that any more, are they?] Just to be. I don't know why you stick to the ones you stick to, I never really understood how you think, and I'm sorry. I could have done more to try, and I didn't. But... it was safe, wasn't it? When we were little. It was safe to believe with we were told, kept... kept you from getting hurt or getting yelled at. You just... developed the habit, I guess.

[He drags his sharp nails back through his hair.]

I'm not exactly free of my old habits either. It's hard. To change.

[pawntakesking]

[The shade reappears, now sitting with his back against the wall and his knees pulled up to his chest. The glow of his eyes, and the sickly greenish skull behind it, is all the clear form there is to him.]

It didn't stop anything.

Mother still yelled. Especially after you left. I think it made Bellatrix worse. And... and it almost got Kreacher killed. It did get me killed.

I should have gone when you did. I should just have listened to you, if I was going to listen to anybody.

[He raises his head, white light from his eyes reflecting on the tendrils of darkness that snake all around him.]

I'm sorry. About the shadows. I'm trying to...

...I can't control it. [I can't control myself, he means. These are more feelings than even he can tamp down.]