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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Aug 30, 2008 1:49:01 GMT -5
D'rorah needed to get away from everything. Her stress level seemed to know only one direction lately, and that was up at an alarming rate. Her new connection with Zane was causing problems with her and Dylan. He was trying not to admit it, but she could see that it was often on his mind. And then, after her strange appearance with Zane after their night in the Astronomy Tower... well, the conclusion was easy enough to draw, even for her. Mixed with the disagreement they had had a few nights before and Dylan's apparent mental block against physically enjoying her as much as he previously had... it was a whole new crop of worries for her. And there was the constant strain of translations and keeping up her own physical training.
She hadn't seen Dylan since that morning in the common room, hadn't been prepared to face whatever it was that was on his mind. She hoped that distance and a bit of time apart would give him time to quell whatever conclusions he might have jumped to and perhaps to realize that he trusted her too much to accuse her of something as heinous as cheating on him. Even so, she knew how things had looked. And quite likely, waiting to face him would have done nothing to dispel his suspicions.
Letting herself into the modest cottage in Hogsmeade, she made her way down the hall to her study, her favorite room. She had considered going further, perhaps apparating to New York or even Tel Aviv, but she knew that it would be foolish to put herself so far away from Hogwarts and the other Lightfighters. The cottage she had managed to shield at least modestly so that she'd have time to get away and call for help if anything happened upon her. She thought it unlikely, but was taking her own safety with far less bravado these days. She knew from the constant chills she experienced that there was more than a passing likelihood that another close brush with corruption would be far too much for her.
Not even looking at her books, she lay down on the couch in the study. She pointed her wand at the fire place and commanded a hearty blaze into being. With every breath, she could feel the warm, musty scent of pages bound in everything from canvas to leather wafting over her nasal passages. One arm draped across her torso as the other rested against her forehead, as though shielding her face. Her legs were crossed at the ankles and propped at the other end of the couch. Yes, all alone here she could certainly allow herself to be as free as she wished. There was no one to support, she didn't have to worry about how her appearance might affect anyone's impression of her... she could sag for a few minutes under her burden rather than have to bear it alone without complaining.
She worked specifically at relaxing her mind along with her body, attempting to meditate and instead falling asleep. The past several months had not been kind to D'rorah. She could tell that she had lost a rather significant amount of weight from the extra room in her tailored robes. Her hair, still streaked with grey nearly corrupting, had lost a bit of its luster; and the dark circles under her eyes seemed to daily conquer new territory. And, of course, there were the ever-present chills. It was nearly impossible to function when she felt constantly frozen... instead of setting the fire in the fireplace, she nearly wished she could have set herself on fire, just to experience normal body temperature again.
She fell fast asleep, her dreams winding and twisting their ways through the dark corridors of her mind. It would only be a matter of time before the nightmares started. And all too soon, they did. Her limbs occasionally jerked voluntarily as they remembered the day her parents had died. And, occasionally, disembodied screams would gurgle from her throat. They weren't loud, merely the emphatic moans of a night terror. When the real screaming started, she would invariable wake up, sitting bolt upright in the bed with her heart pounding and face flushed. For now though, she merely slept fitfully in her haven of repose.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Aug 31, 2008 7:30:08 GMT -5
Having given up the prospect of doing any further homework a long time ago, Dylan had decided that he needed some rest from the world. Steadily, his mind and body had begun to deteriorate under the pressure and stress put upon him. One of the few places that he felt he could relax, that was not located in the castle of Hogwarts, was his destination of the day. He could have chosen one of the many spots located within the confines of the castle; the Room of Requirement, the kitchens, any one of them. But today he had the freedom of being able to visit the neighbouring village of Hogsmeade, and he would pounce upon that chance while he had it. Given that he hadn't seen or heard from D'rorah since the night she and Zane had meandered into the common room, he didn't know whether or not she was using the weekend to visit her cottage. If he met her there, it could always be a chance to talk things out, or he could simply leave again. It was a nice walk anyway.
He was not, by nature, a jealous person. A multitude of factors, however, had begun to manifest in his mind that night; only a few nights previously, they had been in a rather nasty little argument, and that fact in itself had stored enough doubt in him for any further fears to feed off. Given that particularly confusing fact, seeing his girlfriend with another man who was extremely good looking and had his shirt ripped open had not struck a particularly good note within him. At the time of course he had shrugged it off, a typical reaction for him, but later on it had caught up to him quite badly.
Of course, perhaps visiting his girlfriend's cottage in the all-wizarding village wasn't the best idea when he perceived that a decent amount of his current worry could be attributed to his relationship with her. It had always been a place that he felt comfortable, however; felt at home. He didn't suppose that had changed much. As he approached the entrance, he let himself in quietly and didn't immediately notice whether or not she was already here. There were plenty of other places she could be, of course, but it was entirely possible that she had chosen to use the free weekend to recuperate.
Wandering through the rooms just to check whether or not she was around, he passed by two before finding a roaring fire and an occupied couch in the study. His eyes resting on her with no particularly harsh feelings, but nor with any of the tenderness he might usually possess, he rested against the door frame briefly. The fire was pleasantly warm against his skin, and given the overcast and slightly chilly day outside he was glad for it. He wasn't all that warmly dressed; some jeans and a t-shirt that fit snuggly against his torso didn't offer all that much protection against the wind outside.
With a sudden childlike desire to curl up in her lap and have everything be alright again, he moved on soft feet over to the couch and set himself against it, his back resting onto it while his face was directed toward the fireplace. With a small indecision, he turned himself so that he was facing her, running his eyes across her tired features and unable to keep his expression from furrowing in slight concern. He had a brief desire to lay a small kiss to her forehead but after a moments hesitation, decided against it and returned to looking toward the fireplace, exhaling deeply and resting gently against the couch once more.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Sept 1, 2008 2:02:46 GMT -5
D'rorah was suffering from a familiar nightmare--the deaths of her parents followed by the attack on her. In her mind, she could feel the bindings on her arms again. She could feel the bindings on her arms, could feel the disgusting touch of her attackers on her flesh. And the dream wasn't content to play out one time in her head... she would relive the event time and time again during the course of one night, the terror building to a crescendo in her dreams. In comparison, her days were numbed and deadened.
She was on the second cycle of the dream, right at the point of watching her parents mercilessly, slowly, and torturously pulled to pieces when her mind ripped from sleep. She sat up on the couch, a scream echoing from her lips. When she stopped, her breath heaved from her chest in ripping gales. Seeing another figure close to the couch, she started, pulling her legs underneath her as though to pull back from danger. It took a few moments for her to realize that the threat was no threat at all, but rather was Dylan.
"[blue]Dylan,[/blue]" she panted, feeling her heart rate slowly return to normal. "[blue]How long have you been here? Why on earth are you sitting on the floor?[/blue]" She sat up, pulling the blanket draped across the back of the couch to cover her as she shivered again. "[blue]You know... nothing happened the other morning in the tower of course?[/blue]" The statement was a question, a hoping question. She wasn't certain she could stand the thought of being doubted... not when Dylan already clearly had some other sort of problem that seemed to be distancing him from her, keeping them from connecting as they usually did. She had a feeling it was largely to do with her connection to Zane... but she had found no way to sever it. And now that he had become her second in command, it seemed beneficial that they share a connection anyway.
D'rorah hadn't yet told Dylan about that either, and she would well imagine how it would go over. Deciding it would be best to have everything out in the open right away, she steeled herself for a negative reaction before speaking. "[blue]I suppose you may as well be the first to know that Mister Bishop has taken the role of my second in command. Of course, I have no official leadership, but I seem to serve as the unoffical leader of our group... I required assistance with training and other duties as we move forward in our preparations for the war.[/blue]"
She watched him, waiting to see what kind of reaction he might have, hoping it wouldn't be the sort of reaction she feared.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Sept 2, 2008 19:00:13 GMT -5
His eyes lost in the fireplace, avoiding the direct light of the blazing fire but still catching enough of it to lull him into a dull state of nothingness, Dylan's mind wandered. Thoughts and memories flitted through, held by the most fragile of connections as they merged and shifted, forming a very life-like film behind his eyes. D'rorah had not yet stirred into wakefulness, merely twitched or shifted positions a few times, appearing to him as if she were experiencing her usual nightmares.
He recalled a few happy memories where things weren't so complicated; the biggest issues of his life had been hurrying to get study over with so that he could rush into the backyard and hop on his broom. But that was before everything... Before his father had left, his mother had become lost to the world. Before he had even begun his life at Hogwarts, or had true friends. Before he had met D'rorah or known about this war. Everything had been so straightforward, so simple and black and white. Now the world was a sea of greys and uncertainty, of doubt, and he wasn't sure if he liked it very much. Of course, he had survived this world fine before he had met the woman lying behind him, but since meeting her he had realised that life had eluded him at Hogwarts, or anywhere since his father had died.
Jolted out of his musings by a scream, his head swivelled a bit too fast so that he could see her. A small pain in his neck, he turned his entire body and saw her start, pulling back from him. Faltering slightly in his movements and expression, he raised his eyes to her when she spoke. Choosing not to respond to her instantaneous questions, he instead focused on the latter. She drew her blanket up around herself and he chose to phrase his words as best he could. There wasn't really all that much to it. "I know..." he replied, his voice quieter than usual. He left it hanging, because though he simply knew that his little formation of doubt was probably paranoia, and that he trusted Dee beyond belief, he still had encountered a very strange situation.
What had they even been doing in the middle of the night, let alone together? Training didn't seem to fit, because neither had looked very beaten up, nor had D'rorah been wearing her training clothes. Perhaps she had gone to stir up her thoughts, unable to sleep as per usual, and just happened to encounter the Slytherin? All of these thoughts and possibilities ran through him; he had gone over them a million times before.
He was slightly surprised, though perhaps not as much as he might have thought, at her next words. He had assumed that perhaps Keaira would be the natural choice, but thinking on it she seemed to have gone through a lot lately, and though she was strong, Zane did indeed fit the bill for being able to make the calls a second in command might be forced to. He would not let emotions get in the way of his decisions, Dylan knew that, and ill feelings swam through him at possessing that knowledge. He knew that Bishop was the best, most logical choice. But that didn't mean he liked it.
Simply nodding in acceptance of the fact and not allowing his ego to realise that the one he trusted least out of the lightfighters was now virtually in charge of him, Dylan was lost for words. He didn't really like to overuse them anyway. Maybe there was just nothing to say, in this case. D'rorah was, as she had said, the unofficial leader, and she had made a decision and taken the action required of her; if she fell in battle, they could very possibly turn into a headless chicken of a group. Everyone would be isolated into their little formations; Masters and Warriors separated from all other pairs, friends sticking together and forgetting the rest. Keaira and Zee would be on their own, perhaps involving Alessandro somewhere along the line. Caitlin would largely be on her own, he suspected, or else with Susan if he himself decided to go on some murderous rampage to get himself killed. With a second in command, they would hold some form, and stand some kind of chance, and with Dee in increasing amounts of danger, it was an extremely important station to hold.
Not knowing what to say, or rather not particularly wanting to say anything, he crossed his legs and allowed his increasingly long hair to flop in front of his eyes. His hair really did always grow quite fast. It was nothing like it used to be, but it was getting there.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Sept 3, 2008 5:02:29 GMT -5
"[blue]For someone who knows, you do not seem very certain of your answer,[/blue]" replied D'rorah. She waited for some sort of normal reaction... even anger or jealousy would be better than this... apathy... It was almost as though he simply didn't care anymore. Had she done this to him? His smiles seemed to grow fewer and farther between as the wearying calendar marched ahead. All of his reactions seemed to dull and sputter... she could deal with anger, with curiosity... at least if he showed some emotion, she would have something to respond to. But this... this quiet acceptance of whatever would be, it worried her. She wanted to explain herself, but she didn't want to seem overly anxious to prove her innocence. She knew that those who fell all over themselves to prove how innocent they were were typically the most guilty of all.
Was she guilty of something? Nothing had happened... but would Dylan see her apparent forgiveness of Zane as a betrayal? She remembered, right after the attack had happened, vowing that she would find the person who had committed such unspeakable atrocities to the closest person she had to family in the world, and vowing that she would find some way to exact payment. But, in the heat of the moment, things had seemed so much simpler. How could she ever have guessed that the guilty party would turn out to be one of their allies? How could she explain Zane's own self-imposed suffering as he attempted to mold himself into a new person... one who didn't torture others for fun? She wondered if this wasn't the final push for Dylan. Perhaps he was distancing himself from her in preparation for leaving her completely. Surely there were many other females at Hogwarts... and nearly all of them lacking D'rorah's problems and baggage--women who were capable of having children and starting families and living normal lives, women who didn't feel compelled to put upon themselves the duty of keeping the entire world safe from corruption. She could see it clearly now; if Dylan were smart, he'd move on. He'd find some other source of happiness... one that didn't bring so much misery into his life.
Even at the news that Zane had been made her second in command she received no reaction. Just a nod. No questioning look, nothing but the barest hint of surprise on his features. She felt as though she were losing her mind waiting for some sort of reaction. Certainly she'd given him news enough to squeeze some sort of response from him? He had to be thinking something, and she wanted more than anything to reach out and rip the thoughts from his mind. Abuse of her telepathy was extremely tempting at this moment as she wanted to hear what Dylan thought in response to all she had said. Her words had been few, but they had been a mouthful.
"[blue]Will you not at least say something?[/blue]" she asked, allowing her despondency to show in her voice. "[blue]I could take nearly any reaction at all... but no reaction? What am I to do except assume that you have given up and no longer care? Have you no questions? Is there no piece of the events of the past days you wish to have clarified?[/blue]" She wouldn't allow herself to cry; even though her emotions felt jangled from the remnants of her nightmare, she wasn't that far gone in her self-control.
"[blue]Did you come hoping I would not be here? Or did you come hoping to say goodbye?[/blue]" she asked, certain that one of the two was the only correct answer in light of Dylan's emotionless response. "[blue]Have you no reaction at all to the fact that I slept with Zane in the Astronomy Tower? Or to anything that has happened lately?[/blue]" she prodded, leaving the term ambiguous. Of course, sleeping had been the only thing that had happened... she had dropped off quite unexpectedly, her exhaustion finally catching up to her.
Suddenly, she wasn't certain she wanted an answer. She didn't want to explain herself. She didn't want to feel this awful twisting inside her anymore. She wanted peace. Hadn't she earned it? Hadn't she fought long enough and hard enough for light to earn just a small bit of respite for herself? Couldn't things go back to the relative simplicity of Falstaffs and of her research and of working herself to exhaustion because she enjoyed it, rather than because her life depended on it? "[blue]Nevermind, Dylan Cooper. I shall make the decision easy for you. Your whole life shall be happier for it... happier, and simpler, and far more normal.[/blue]" She stood up, placing her legs firmly on the floor, though they felt as though they were made of rubber. "[blue]I am leaving. I will be happier for knowing that my existence is no longer a source of torture for you... and you will no longer have to sit there in silent doubt of everything in your life.[/blue]"
She tensed her jaw, willing her feet to move one in front of the other and began to walk across the floor without looking back, destined first for the door to the study, and then for the front door of the house. She stopped in the doorframe of the study, pausing for just a moment. "[blue]Goodbye.[/blue]" Just that one simple note of farewell. She didn't have the strength in her to look back. She knew that if she tried she'd lose all of her resolve and would stand there like a monument. Her goodbye said, she continued on her way through the door and down the hallway.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Sept 3, 2008 6:54:40 GMT -5
Not expecting her reaction to be so... hostile, Dylan's eyes widened slightly as he raised his gaze to D'rorah. What exactly had she expected him to say? Did she expect him, quiet old Dylan, to start yelling without thought, to trail off endlessly in some ridiculous rant that would ultimately be a waste of everyone's energy. As she continued to speak, clearly aggravated in some way, he narrowed his eyes slightly. She was, in his eyes, acting quite childishly. All he did was muse things over himself, reason things out in his mind and avoid a largely unnecessary scene, and now that was all she was creating.
His eyes narrowed even more as she flung off the callous exclamation that her and Zane had slept together in the tower. It could be taken literally or quite obviously to mean that she had cheated on him, and he didn't appreciate that she threw it in there so carelessly. He was settled in trusting her, more than perhaps he even trusted himself, and she was throwing it in his face. Raising himself from the floor, he knew that she was just aiming to get a reaction, and he would certainly give it to her, as well as let her know that it wasn't appreciated in the least. At least, that was the plan.
Taken aback, his eyes showing how suddenly overwhelmed he was that she would even suggest leaving, Dylan found himself stunned into both silence and a statue-like state as she began to leave. As she stopped in the doorway, he was spurred into action, stepping toward her. He followed her a few steps down the hallway before taking her arm lightly, intending to have her swivel to face him. "You want me to be sorry for looking at this logically?" he said heatedly, though anger was not a main factor in his voice. "Because I don't see the need to complain or get upset, I suddenly don't care about anything?" His voice was rising, and he knew it; it rarely did. Yet here he was... Finding himself speaking quite loudly, though still not yelling.
"I came here because this is one of the few places that feels like home to me anymore," he said, his voice lowering slightly as he admitted that fact. "And how could you ever think that I would want to say goodbye?" he added, his voice softening considerably. "D'rorah, you are not a source of torture... You're the exact opposite, my love," he whispered quietly. "You're the reason that I get up every day and keep going, the reason that I smile, or laugh, or enjoy any moment of my life. You are my everything," he said softly, moving to place a small, soft kiss at her lips. "Plus, when is normal ever any fun?" he added with a small smile, while his heart was torn with grief at the idea she would leave, but conversely filled with love as he produced his feelings for her.
Deciding that this had all started for his lack of reaction to the events with Zane, he chose to offer some feeling afterall. "Seeing you and Zane, I just... It was just the wrong time for me to see that. I love you, I trust you... but it was just fuel to the flame, despite the hope that you would never be with him. I just realised in that moment that everyone around me seems not to have any problem with him, nor do they see a reason to; he's handsome, charming, good with words... What do I have?" Not particularly leading that off for a reply, he expected he might get one anyway. His heart in his eyes, he cast them away from hers.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Sept 4, 2008 11:15:34 GMT -5
"You want me to be sorry for looking at this logically?" he said heatedly, though anger was not a main factor in his voice. "Because I don't see the need to complain or get upset, I suddenly don't care about anything?"
"[blue]But you are upset, Dylan,[/blue]" replied D'rorah. "[blue]It is so clear to me that you are upset... but then you act as though you do not care at all. This bothers you, I can feel it hanging in the air between us. I feel the slightest hesitation whenever we are around one another lately. It was never there before.[/blue]" Her voice trailed off sadly. As he began to speak again, her eyes were focused on Dylan, following every word intently.
She accepted his soft kiss and found her lips twisted into a crooked half-smile in response to his quip about normalcy. As he moved on to speaking about Zane, however, that smile slowly faded from her face. She had been right in her assessment... it was the closer inclusion of Zane within their group that was causing him difficulty. As he turned his eyes away from her, she stepped in closer and brought a finger to his chin, gently bringing his face back around as she searched for his eyes.
"[blue]You have compassion and an untainted sense of justice. You have so much more light in you than Zane... or even than I, for that matter.[/blue]" D'rorah watched his eyes for a moment as she realized something about Dylan... she could feel her heart twisting throughout the conversation. It had been so easy to realize ever since meeting him that something in him stirred her emotions. Through all of her habitual control and typical cool countenance, none of that ever seemed to apply around Dylan. And it wasn't entirely to do with the fact that she didn't feel the need to put up barriers against him... no, this was something more uncontrollable than that.
As if there was something in him that drew forth her emotions.
That had to be it. How else could she possibly explain her own irrational behavior whenever they seemed to disagree or have tension between them? How else could she explain how his presence seemed to have helped her stave off corruption in the times when she had not had an Elemental Master to assist her with pulling back her emotions. It explained why he had not been able to tolerate her presence when she had been so near corruption after Mallan's death and after being rescued from the forest. She wondered if the talent was his... or theirs.
Even now, with the uncertainty of things between them, she would feel uncustomary tension within her. She remembered back now to their argument over bringing Katherine Knightswood within the umbrella of the Lightfighters, remembered so many times when she had reacted otherwise than she might have expected of herself while in Dylan's presence. Shaking off her incredulity at the realization as it hit her full-force, she continued. "[blue]And you are handsome and charming as well,[/blue]" she added softly. Craning her neck forward, she placed a light kiss at his cheek as she expanded her own mental sphere, enveloping Dylan in the realizations she had just had. When it had all played through, she brushed back a strand of hair from his face. "[blue]You see? No one would ever be capable of connecting with me as you have, Dylan Cooper.[/blue]"
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Sept 4, 2008 21:42:00 GMT -5
His eyes avoiding hers as she mentioned the small tension between them lately, he knew she was right. Things just weren't the same as they used to be... And he was almost positive that everything with Zane was most of the reason. He had intruded so fully onto Dylan's life recently, and then merged into the lives of his friends and acquaintances. He hadn't even bothered to notice the Slytherin all that much before he'd burnt his hair off, and now he was everywhere. Everyone seemed all too willing to include him, too, and now he was even a part of Dee; his thoughts merged with hers, his feelings. They had connected in a way that her and him had not, and that made him angrier than perhaps even he realised; it also made him feel largely estranged from the woman he loved, and he didn't like it one bit.
Feeling her hand at his chin, he turned his head to oblige her wishes. Staying silent as she spoke, he met her eyes and returned the offered kiss softly. Dylan felt the changes in him, knew that she was merging her thoughts with his, and he lowered his eyes aimlessly as the ideas ran through him. With the new-found realisation, he wondered why then would she consider leaving him? Clearly she didn't want to; had only said those things out of desperation or guilt or something similar. He himself had thought about it recently, but to actually suggest it? Maybe... No. Of course she didn't really want to leave... Did she?
Feeling slightly anxious about that train of thought, he pushed it neatly to the back of his mind, though parts still leaked through, bothering him endlessly. Feeling a strand of dangling hair pushed back from his face, a sensation he absolutely loved in combination with her soft touch, he raised his eyes to meet hers once more. Choosing not to respond to her last comment, he wondered if she would get frustrated again and demand a reaction. He supposed not, but then again he hadn't expected it in the first place. "Don't leave me," he said suddenly, dwindling on the concept, his voice light as a feather. He honestly didn't know how he would survive this war without her as a beacon of hope at the end of it all; even if they seperated with the idea of not being as hurt should the other one befall some evil, he knew that he would still be just as lost and hurt whether they held the title of boyfriend and girlfriend or not. He loved her more than he could express, and that would not change anytime soon. All he could do was his best to make her happy, to keep her safe. And that would have to be enough.
Niggling just beyond the forefront of his mind, a thought spurred forward suddenly. "Why were you two in the Astronomy tower?" he questioned, unsure as to the reasoning. "What were you doing?" he added, simply curious. He knew, of course, that she had not cheated on him, but it caused him to wonder at the phrasing 'slept with Zane'. It implied that she actually physically fell asleep, something she usually only really did when she was at ease. Zee didn't seem to inspire that, or perhaps he was just too blinded by past events to realise it. Was she really that comfortable around him, though? The idea stung a little, but he kept that inside for now, hoping for a somewhat substantial answer.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Sept 6, 2008 8:29:10 GMT -5
"Don't leave me,"
D'rorah smiled sadly in response to his sudden request. "[blue]Dylan, I would never wish to leave you. However, the picture of you facing some unbearable torment on my account was more than I could bear. I only began to leave because I believed it was what you wanted... even if you were not prepared to admit it. If, however, you really wish me to stay so that we can work through these issues... well, nothing would make me happier than to heal the rift between us. As long as we are both willing to be open and honest in the process. You must tell me when you are hurting and allow us to work on it together. It hurts more to see you in pain and be excluded than to simply be a part of the pain in the first place.[/blue]"
"Why were you two in the Astronomy tower?" "What were you doing?"
Here was the question she had been expecting for so long. She knew Dylan would naturally be curious to know what had transpired that night, especially given Zane's bedraggled experience the next morning when he had walked her to her common room. Her mind played back over the night, wanting to remember completely what had happened so she would relay it accurately.
"[blue]Well, earlier that afternoon and evening I was patrolling the border of the Forbidden Forest in the hopes of preventing any students from wandering in and needing to be rescued. I encountered Silren Chalis, coming out to collect samples of an herb for potions class. She only touched the very edge of the forest... but for some reason was attacked by a swarm of Shadows.[/blue]" D'rorah shook her head, mentally chastising herself.
"[blue]I realize now how foolish it was to patrol alone, but I have never encountered Shadows so close to the forest's edge... the entire series of events still strikes me as rather odd, though I have no idea as to why. In any case, I was able to fight off the Shadows, but of course, with no Elemental Master with me to pull back my emotions, I had quite squarely doomed myself to corruption. Mister Bishop was the one who happened upon us and saved me from corrupting completely by gathering my emotions. Had he been any later, I would not be here now. Mister Kelley arrived some minutes later, sensing my distress, and was able to complete the task. By then, of course, the connection had already been established. I asked him to meet me in the Astronomy Tower so that I might ask him to observe Miss Chalis. I cannot tell whether she is being sought by the Mage for some ability she possesses or is somehow an agent of hers, and thought it best to have him keep watch over her. And then, of course, there was the issue of going over our connection... making certain that Mister Bane's fate would not befall Mister Bishop as well.[/blue]"
She trailed off, obviously still feeling great sadness and guilt over Mallan's death for many reasons. Most largely, for her inability to protect him at a time when he had needed it. Shaking it back, she cleared her throat lightly and began speaking again. "[blue]Zane and I spoke for quite some time.[/blue]" She paused, remembering the moment in which she had confirmed that Zane's mind was much like her own, recalling the research she had been doing at Falstaff's... and realized with more than a bit of trepidation that she had never told Dylan about it at all. And now she felt trapped under her own condition of being completely open and honest with one another. Though, of course, she had always striven for that. It simply was something that had never come up before.
"[blue]I do not know who fell asleep first, but I believe it was I. Mister Bishop's bedraggled appearance is a result of his experiencing my nightmares through our new connection. In a great fright, he ripped away his shirt, convinced that he had been tortured. He was looking for the scars on his arms.[/blue]" She gestured to her own arms weakly, feeling ill with the confession she was still debating to make.
It was true, Dylan had never had darkness within him. He was prone, on occasion, to anger. But it was always in response to some monumental transgression against him, and usually in self defense. D'rorah knew he'd never been an innately violent person and knew that he identified all too well with other people's suffering. He had wanted to be a healer when they had first met, she recalled. And, of course, he had a staunch distaste for Unforgivable Curses... especially now. But then, now that she had realized her ommission, D'rorah's mind would never be at peace until she confessed. Even if she could bear the inner turmoil, there was the likelihood he would find out anyway... and she knew his reaction was likely to be a good deal more painful if he found out from someone other than her.
"[blue]Dylan... I must tell you something about my past that has never come up before. I know you wonder how I can stand to have Zane in my mind... and that is partly because I understand him very well. He and I have a few... commonalities...[/blue]" Her mind was screaming at her to get on with it, to just have out with what she would say. She was already steeling herself for Dylan's look of revulsion, knowing that would most likely be his reaction. "[blue]You see, when I was at Falstaff's, my research was in the field of Unforgivable Curses. We strove not only to find defenses against them, but also to strengthen them... an academic pursuit to broaden the spectrum of magical abilities. In the course of that research, I used Unforgivable Curses quite a bit myself... we tested on ourselves occasionally... or, I should clarify, each researcher used another researcher as a test subject. I recall one professor who went mad with the effects of a modified Cruciatus.[/blue]"
She cast her eyes down suddenly, as though there might be further answers on her feet. "[blue]There were times when I... found some enjoyment in it. It was always done in the name of academia, and the published results were quite prestigious in America. But... that experience gives me an odd insight into Zane's mind...[/blue]
She looked up into Dylan's eyes again, watching for his emotions. She dared to hope for acceptance, though she knew it was far from likely. She was certain this would be her own moment of finally receiving some sort of justice from the Universe. Dylan would see nothing before him than a female version of Zane Bishop... and knowing that Zane was in her head would likely only compound Dylan's feelings of revulsion.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Sept 10, 2008 17:45:38 GMT -5
Knowing that the only way for him to make it through any torment in these dreadful times was to have her close, he wondered how she could believe that distancing herself would be the best option for either of them. In his eyes, it would simply leave both of them miserable. He nodded solemnly in response to her suggestion that he not exclude her from his pain, and though he believed he had not truly taken any damage when he had seen the two of them together, he suspected that at least on some level he had. He did have rather a lot of self-esteem issues, afterall, and Zane appeared almost the perfect man to most who encountered him. Shaking his head slightly to rid himself of such thoughts, he flicked his eyes back up to hers as she attempted to explain what had happened in the tower.
Dylan's eyebrows creased into a small frown of worry as she stated that she had patrolled so close to the forest on her own. He supposed it was only natural for her, especially if she had never seen Shadows so close to the border, but he still cringed inwardly at the idea of losing her simply because she preferred to patrol alone. He also suspected that something was extremely odd about the whole thing... Why had they ventured so close to the border if they had not done so before? Perhaps something was happening in their ranks... Phoenix was moving. Or maybe there was just something incredibly strange about Silren.
As she referenced Mallan, he was sure that she believed her connection with him and the memories and feelings it brought about to have in some way, at least, caused Mallan's death. As she gestured to her arms weakly, his eyes sought out nothing at all, drifting off into space for a moment or two before returning to the present. He simply wasn't sure how to receive this information, mainly because of how intimate the connection between her and Zane clearly was. He did not like it, and he didn't think he ever would, but there was no way he could deny the relieving cause of it all. If it wasn't for Bishop, D'rorah might not have survived her excursion; her body may well have, but her true self would have been gone forever, and he was unswervingly grateful to Zane for that fact. Dylan was definitely not one to let his pride get in the way of his feelings most of the time, especially when it came to situations similar to this.
His eyes moved to hers as she continued, and he stared in a slightly anxious manner at her as she tentatively began. When she mentioned that her and Bishop shared things in common, he assumed she was not meaning their taste in music or opinion of Quidditch, and his eyes turned to the ground as he braced himself for whatever it was that she so clearly needed to say. He wondered where she was going, briefly, when she mentioned her old school in New York, but found his jaw clenching almost imperceptibly when she stated that she had used and sought to strengthen Unforgivable Curses. His eyes certainly avoided hers and trailed off themselves, images of stark white walls and fire jumping before his eyes. Of course, the fire had had nothing to do with Unforgivable Curses, but it had certainly been the most notable event of that night and drew him inevitably back to the Curses that had been used upon him.
He had known, of course, that she was devoutly interested in the far reaches of academia. He had not imagined quite this far. Completely and utterly lost for words, a million things rushed through his mind all at once. Did this new knowledge change who he perceived her to be? No... It couldn't. She was still the same woman, and that was in her past. He was sure many people had made bad choices in their history; done things that the person they were today would not. Was that the case? Or had she simply toned it down a bit since she had met him?
Just about his only form of expression was the very clear tightening of the muscles in his jaw, and though his eyes shone with confusion and almost a kind of disbelief, they were clouded over and hidden by the drooping strands of his hair. He dared to flick his eyes up as she finished, and her eyes held his for a second before he pulled away again, turning to face back toward the study. He simply didn't know what to make of this, what to do, and the last thing on his mind was how worried she might be about his reaction.
The chord that had really struck home was that she had enjoyed it. She had enjoyed giving merciless pain, and no matter the reasoning behind it, he was sure that he was not okay with that. Zane had enjoyed himself, certainly. He had taken his time, allowed his mind and wand to run free with desire, and the idea that she had cast those spells knowing full well what the results would be, caused him to frown in slight disgust. Then again, a professor had gone mad... Perhaps she hadn't known the results, and to him it was even worse. Anything could have happened. Anything. And she had done it anyway.
Not bothering to comment or make any observation, he moved down the hallway and back into the study, the simplicity and warmth of the roaring fire giving him a small comfort. Curling up onto the couch, he watched the flames dance mercilessly, wondering about everything all at once and beginning to have a headache form.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Sept 13, 2008 15:40:08 GMT -5
It was as D'rorah had feared. Dylan could hardly stand to look at her as she made her confession. So many things must be running through his mind at the moment, so many unpleasant memories triggered. She caught his eyes for a moment as he looked at her. Though she searched desperately for answers to the questions in her own mind, his gaze left hers much too quickly for her to receive any satisfying answers. She stood by helplessly as he moved away from her, drifting into the study, curling up on the couch she had so recently vacated.
She watched him for several long moments, trying to decide whether to follow or leave him be. He hadn't run out of the house screaming... surely that was a positive sign? Of course, he also hadn't spoken to her and seemed intent on not looking at her. She couldn't decide what he might be thinking... but almost certainly none of it was good. Was his leaving the room symbolic of leaving her? Did he need space to think? Not knowing was threatening to drive her insane. She paused for several moments, trying to decide what to do. Finally, deciding that it was her house, she wasn't going to leave. If he wanted her to give him space, he would have to ask for it. Until then, unless he left, she would assume he intended to stay and talk this through with her.
Gathering her courage to face him, she began the short walk from where she currently stood into the study. Each step strengthened her resolve. She had nothing to apologize for or be ashamed of. Her research had accomplished a lot of good in the area of defensive magic. She had earned recognition for her work and her theories in many prestigious academic circles and could go nearly anywhere she pleased after graduation. And not one of the researchers who had participated had been forced to do anything he didn't wish to do. She had been on the receiving end of her own fair share of Unforgivable curses. No one had begrudged the necessity of testing theories. That had been the largest inhibiting factor in developing defenses for Unforgivable Curses up to this point--no one was willing to work directly with them.
Feeling a new resolve and even slightly irritated now at Dylan's passive agressive lack of response, she placed herself on the couch directly next to him. "[blue]So, is this how we will communicate?[/blue]" she asked quietly, "[blue]I confess and you abandon me to silence? Surely you must have some opinion of what I have told you.[/blue]" There was no hint of anger or malice in her voice. She was careful to keep her tone quiet, afraid that Dylan's ability to stir her emotions would cause her to once again overreact and would cause the conversation to deteriorate into something destructive once again.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Sept 13, 2008 18:39:20 GMT -5
Seeing her emerge into the doorway from the corner of his eye, Dylan made no move to acknowledge that fact. Feeling her place herself next to him on the couch, he became slightly irritated in his confused state that she would spring this on him and expect him to either hate her or love her, to be completely one-sided and clear in his thoughts. All he had right now was the knowledge she had provided him and the overwhelming confusion that had come with it.
True, he had never been one to be completely open about his emotions; most of the time, he hadn't had anyone to be open with. After having so many wells to spill into when he was younger, at Hogwarts everything had changed. He was no longer used to opening up and revealing his thoughts to those he was close to, and if he would realise that perhaps he might also realise how unfair it was on D'rorah. But while he himself wasn't sure how he felt about it, how was he supposed to communicate that exact fact?
His eyes remained cast down to the fireplace for a moment after she spoke. Gathering himself as best as he was able, he would obey as she wished and divulge everything. He did not want another fight, and perhaps she was right in getting at his lack of communication. "I'm torn," he said quietly, his eyes not leaving the fireplace. "If I understand right... You did what you did for academia, for research. But what I don't understand is how you enjoyed it, because to me that simply associates very well with Zane." He didn't have the capacity at this point to refine or second-guess his words; they were what they were. "And Zane... is not the best of topics where I'm concerned, despite how impressed everyone seems with him." His last few words were said without the bitterness he felt, as usual a slight understatement of his feelings.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Sept 13, 2008 19:01:09 GMT -5
D'rorah listened quietly as Dylan finally began to speak, his eyes riveted to the fireplace. "[blue]I understand how difficult this was for you to hear. It was difficult for me to tell as well.[/blue]" She sighed quietly. "[blue]I do not want a decision or judgment or any of the like right away. I just want us to talk this through together. I see now that it changes the dynamic of our relationship. I am not Zane Bishop. We have some similarities, that is why I can identify with him. And I do not know that everyone is particularly impressed with him.[/blue]"
D'rorah settled back in her seat on the couch, trying to pick her way through her words. Why did it feel so much like every small word and action in her life had the power to undo everything? Why did everything seem to constantly be hanging by a thread? Dylan had been her constant ever since she had met him. However, it seemed they were slowly finding more and more things about each other that might drive them apart. She wished he would look at her, that they could simply talk... it seemed like they had always been able to talk so easily before.
"[blue]Everything I do for research tends to be something I find exciting. Any pleasure I may have felt was at least partially related to the boundaries we were pushing in the work that was being done. I would never cause anyone pain simply for the fact of causing pain... I know you must believe that. It was a very logical process for me, weighing the good that could come from the research against the pain being caused. And, if I had to cast the spells anyway, it makes at least some sense that I would find some sort of enjoyment in it. The work was difficult enough without having to make myself feel guilty about it.[/blue]"
Determined that she would see his eyes as he spoke to her again, D'rorah shifted slightly closer on the couch, hoping the shift in the couch cushion would direct his attention toward her. She didn't reach for his face, thinking that would seem too forceful. She merely hoped closeness would pull Dylan's attention away from the dancing flames.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Sept 15, 2008 16:20:58 GMT -5
Taking in her response carefully, his eyes flicked down to the ground when she came to the topic of Zane. He supposed it was uncharacteristically narrow-minded of him to group D'rorah with him so, but it was nevertheless his automatic reaction. His history with her, however, stopped him from being completely disgusted or from avoiding her altogether from now on. Despite what he knew, he would not change a thing and he would not lose her. That concept made him feel slightly better, both from the comfort of not having to separate himself from Dee and from the relief of finally having one solid thought to hold on to.
She was quite right of course; she was not Zane Bishop. He had tortured Dylan not for academic pursuits, and certainly not with his permission. Not only had there been no valid reason, but it had been done out of simple malice and for entertainment, of all things. D'rorah, he knew, could not rightfully be compared to what Bishop had been and might still be. He was also intelligent enough to realise that her intentions had been for the greater good, or at least for the sake of research. While he could take the high road and resolutely object to any such action, he chose instead to accept that some things needed to be done for good, some things that most people would be too afraid to do. Her knowledge would most likely help the Lightfighters at some point, could even save a life, and whatever had to happen along the way he would be just as glad for it.
That realisation, and only that, turned his eyes back toward her; he searched for hers and found them not difficult to locate. Dylan felt a small patch of guilt creep into him as she announced that it had been hard enough for her without making herself feel guilty. Then again, he reasoned that his reaction had been validated, and pushed the guilt aside. He was still, however, apologetic about the fact that he seemed not to open himself up fully to her. Slipping one hand surrepticiously into hers, able to do so more easily now that she had moved closer on the couch, he brought it to his lips and kissed it softly. "I'm sorry, Dee," he said softly, his eyes finding hers once more. "I'm just not used to opening up about things this... intense," he said with a small, apologetic look, clarifying his reasons of apologising. "I'm not used to anyone really caring what I think." At this small admition, his eyes told quite clearly how grateful he was that she was not one of the uncaring mass.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Sept 19, 2008 10:45:40 GMT -5
D'rorah felt a small amount of her tension drain away as Dylan took her hand and kissed it softly. Her eyes met him with a slightly hopeful expression. "[blue]Of course I care what you think,[/blue] she remarked softly, offering a slight squeeze to the hand which held hers. "[blue]You are the closest thing I have to family. I love you. There are very few people whose opinions I value at all, and you are foremost on that list of people.[/blue]"
Rarely one who could simply allow herself to relax and enjoy a moment, D'rorah found herself pressing on to the next concern which would likely be on Dylan's mind. "[blue]As for my appointment of Mister Bishop as my second in command, I can understand you will have reasonable concerns regarding that. Our mental connection gives me a reason to trust his ability to lead and make decisions that the rest of you may hold little confidence in. However unlikely you may think it, he has changed. We have enough enemies in the Shadow Mage that it would be unwise to cultivate enemies amongst our allies.[/blue]" She took a deep breath, certain that her next request would likely not be well-met. What Zane had done to Dylan in the room of requirement had been horrifying and inexcusable, but they had to be able to move on from that now. "[blue]I need you to work on forgiving him, Dylan.[/blue]" Her eyes were locked with Dylan's as she spoke, as though she could convey the necessity of her message through the intensity of her gaze. "[blue]I know that it will be very difficult to do so, however I have confidence that you are able. In truth, did not the experience in the end bring us closer together? He will be training all of the Elemental Masters going forward... leading us to be as prepared as we possibly can. I have extremely limited facility with Elemental Magic, so I would not be as effective. I will work with the other Shadow Warriors to prepare them.[/blue]"
She shifted slightly closer still. "[blue]I need you to do this not only for our group, but for yourself as well. Allowing bitterness and hatred to fester within you will only lead to an eventual degradation of your own character. You will be unhappy. Finding some means of forgiveness will lighten your own heart. Your facility with magic has returned to nearly its full ability... all of the stress before was obviously affecting you. If you wish it to return in full force, you will either have to forgive or move on... or find some wellspring of energy to tap into.[blue]" She pushed a strand of hair back from his face. "[blue]So much of your magical ability comes from a basic optimism and faith in humanity... that is why you were so affected after being attacked by Zane and John. Find your faith and optimism again, they will be strengthened by the adversity you have endured.[/blue]"
Having said all the felt was necessary to say for the moment, D'rorah shifted slightly further back on the couch and allowed herself to lean lightly against Dylan's side. She could feel the conflicted emotions within him and knew that he might even be angry with her for expecting him to forgive Zane. But she also knew that they would weather whatever tempest she might have stirred together. She was trying very hard to resist the urge to pull away, to share her thoughts and perspectives openly. It was difficult, but her faith in them kept her where she was, allowing her to draw comfort from Dylan's presence and look forward to times their mutual strength growing as all of these issues were resolved.
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