Zane Lucifer Bishop
Slytherin
[green]6th Year Slytherin[/green] Elemental Master of Metal
You people all have to learn. This world is going to burn.
Posts: 483
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Post by Zane Lucifer Bishop on Aug 2, 2008 10:06:02 GMT -5
Hours had passed since the return to the castle from the surprisingly intense attack at the forest's edge. Once they were all safe and had each gone their own way, Zee had returned to the ground floor and the great hall. His exertions had worked up quite an appetite and he ate quickly and in silence. Once through with his meal he rapidly ascended the stairs leading to the sixth floor. Still carrying the damaged sword, he hoped to spend some time in the room of requirement, sitting in the room of elemental metal and finding a way to restore the blade. Unfortunately the door refused to appear even though he'd walked up and down the hall at least twelve times. Apparently someone was already inside, someone who had given the door some condition for opening that Zee did not meet. Growing frustrated, he instead headed for the library, deciding to finish the make up work he'd been assigned.
Losing all track of time, Zee remained there studying until around midnight when the slightly crotchety librarian insisted that he make his way to his common room. Obediently leaving the library, he smirked to himself at the notion of actually heading to bed. He was going the opposite direction, climbing the vast stairs once more. He wasn't sure what exactly D'rorah had wanted to see him about, but he was rarely bored by the older Ravenclaw, so it was with a certain spring of interest in his step that he climbed to the astronomy tower. As he rose through the tower itself he had to rub his eyes, the long hours in the library and the short battle having taken their toll. Perhaps his common room and dorm weren't such a bad idea after all.
As he reached for the latch on the door that would take him to the upper room, an image of the night sky flashed through his head, though the stars seemed dimmer. It was almost as if the vast darkness was swallowing them, not allowing their light to reach earth as strongly as it should have. The correlation between that and the Shadow War was painfully obvious, and Zee's expression was somewhat troubled as he pushed through the door. Seeing that the girl he was meeting had already arrived, Zee approached her as she stared out into space. The stars seemed plenty bright to him now that he could actually see them, though that didn't give him a great deal of comfort. It was the second time he'd seen a vision that his own mind hadn't conjured, and both seemed vaguely sinister. As he came up beside her, he set the sword, still wrapped in his great dark cloak, on the ground, leaning against the stone wall.
"Evening D'rorah. You know this leaves only one Shadow Warrior that I haven't met up here in the dead of night. What will the other Elemental Masters say?"
He tried for one of his crooked, amused grins, but it came out quite weakly, his face quickly reverting to the mildly worried look it had held when he entered.
"All jests aside, I think there may be something wrong with my head."
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Aug 2, 2008 10:33:02 GMT -5
D'rorah hadn't had a moment of easy thought since returning from the edge of the forest. It had only been through Zane's quick intervention that she was alive and uncorrupted to tell the tale. The events of that evening played in her head constantly as she tried to understand them, a constant undercurrent throughout all of her activities. Everything about that evening had seemed wrong... she chided herself lavishly for thinking to patrol without Bryan with her, just in case of such an occasion. But then, having so completely disrupted his entire life so recently, she had been loathe to drag him from his afternoon pursuits. She hadn't planned on a confrontation... her idea was merely to turn wayward students back who ventured too close to the forest. And still... even Silren hadn't gone far enough in to have attracted their attention. They never came that close to the break in the trees... even the weak daylight there at the border was painful to them.
Eventually her puzzlement for the events won out over her translations. She closed the large tome she had been working with noisily and placed it within her locker. As soon as she had done so, the feeling of being cooped up in her dormitory was all but unbearable. She knew she had asked Zane to meet her in the Astronomy Tower, but hadn't specified a time. With an air of resignation, she decided that having at least some destination was better than none at all. She removed her school robes, revealing the floor length black skirt and black turtlneck beneath. As she headed out the door, she slipped her sword belt around her waist once more and grabbed a heavier set of robes that would help with the chill as well as more thoroughly conceal the swords... no, only one now, concealed at her side.
The walk up to the tower was uneventful. Amazingly, students seemed to be more or less obeying curfew at the moment. Perhaps they too sensed there was something dangerous they were being protected from. That would be a welcome change indeed from constantly having to spring off into darkness to defend someone whose curiosity had gotten the best of him or her. A wave of relief washed over her as she made her way into the tower room and took up a sentinel, watching the stars through the window. There were several things on her mind to be worked out and her brain clicked away tirelessly at them to pass the time.
She felt Zane's presence before she heard his approach. His mind was far clearer to her now than any of the other students' in the school... except for Bryan, of course. It would be far more difficult to avoid his thoughts if this clarity remained. She had no idea how long she'd been standing there, but judged that it was not long after midnight by the patterns of stars in the sky. She remained silent and unmoving as he approached her, not needing to turn around to confirm that it was, in fact, him.
A twisted smirk came up at his first statement. She could well imagine what many people might think to hear of this rendezvous in the dead of night... but, even with a vivid imagination, she had little reason to care. The next statement, however, did cause a wave of concern to wash through her.
"[blue]I feared that that might be the case, Zane,[/blue]" she replied, using his first name. She wasn't in the custom of addressing others by their given names... but she saw no reason to keep any distance between Zane and herself now... not when he was already buzzing about in her head. "[blue]I have tried, in the short time since last we spoke, to find some information about how to deal with this or what to expect.[/blue]" Finally, she turned to face him in the pale moonlight, watching his eyes as though some answer might be found there. "[blue]I cannot express enough thanks for your actions earlier this evening... and I do not intend to allow Mister Bane's fate to befall you as well. This new...[/blue]" she paused for a moment, as though confirming the word she wished to use in her mind, "[blue]connection is one of the things I wished to discuss. Along with the matter of Miss Chalis.[/blue]"
Feeling weary from the long day and not having had any sleep, D'rorah settled onto the window sill, knowing they would likely be there for quite some time. In truth, there were also things to talk of like training, but it made far more sense to begin with the subjects which would take the most time.
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Zane Lucifer Bishop
Slytherin
[green]6th Year Slytherin[/green] Elemental Master of Metal
You people all have to learn. This world is going to burn.
Posts: 483
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Post by Zane Lucifer Bishop on Aug 2, 2008 11:21:03 GMT -5
"You'd have done the same for me."
It was horrendously cliche, but Zee wasn't sure what else to say. He was slightly uncomfortable with this level of sincerity, unused to receiving it from D'rorah and certainly not yet accustomed to giving it. In the past he would certainly have taken any opportunity to bask in the thanks and praise of others. Now though he was almost at a loss for how to react when he wasn't actually seeking some advantage. His statement had been true after all. Keaira may have had her doubts, but he was convinced that despite the possible conflict with logic, D'rorah would risk her life to save him were he captured by the Mage.
As she spoke of the late Elemental Master of Wind, Zee began to realize what she was saying, especially once she mentioned a connection between the two of them. It certainly didn't feel like his bond with Keaira, but it would explain the visions and made sense considering his involvement in the prevention of her corruption. It occurred to him then how ironic it was that he, the boy who had taken such care to hide his mind, was now mentally connected to the two strongest telepaths he'd ever known. Not only did it mean they could bypass all his barriers and see whatever they wished, whenever they wished, but it also left him in an arena in which he couldn't possibly win. In a purely mental battle between himself and Keaira or himself and D'rorah he would surely lose, and lose quickly. Not that he thought it at all probable either event would ever occur, but the feeling of vulnerability, of helplessness, irked him considerably. It was almost as if the universe was trying to teach him humility.
And fear. Ever since he had heard of Mallan's fate Zee had written it off as the boy being unstable and weak. He never imagined he would be placed in a similar situation. It wasn't exactly the same, but it was similar. It didn't seem to have any great impact on him for the moment, but how long had it taken for Mallan to lose control? Zee had certainly seen no sign of suicidal behavior. Could it be that a month down the road, two, seven, he would be just as maniacal? In desperation he turned to the one defense he knew against fear.
"Oh thank you D'rorah, but I assure you I have no intention of shoving a piece of metal through my head. Can you imagine the tragedy? For the world to lose not only this mind, but this face? Why it's nearly inconceivable. Though I do see your concern. After all if the mood did take me to skewer my own brain, it's not as if I would have a terribly difficult time in getting my hands on a sharp piece of metal."
Zee looked pointedly at the silver Prefect badge pinned to his chest. It was all too clear that even with a small, relatively harmless piece such as that he could quickly craft a lethal instrument. Rubbing his eyes once more, he drew in a great breath and exhaled in a loud sigh. He was mildly embarrassed at his comments, sure that she saw through his bitter humor to the terror that motivated it.
"Forgive me D'rorah. Things have been somewhat tumultuous of late. I . . . am not yet accustomed to . . . well, caring about anything enough to feel stress."
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Aug 2, 2008 11:45:54 GMT -5
[green]"You'd have done the same for me."[/green]
"[blue]That is true,[/blue]" agreed D'rorah simply. She knew there was no need to embellish her statement or qualify it. It would merely be tedious for both of them. She allowed him to continue afterward, well aware of the thoughts leading up to the words though she attempted not to listen. It felt indecent, to be forced to intrude into someone else's privacy. D'rorah was holding her mind back carefully, but couldn't help seeing glimpses here and there interspersed throughout his conversation. It was unsettling to her... to feel that she wouldn't be able to close off her own mind as well. She certainly had many memories she considered private... she and Zane were kindred spirits in that regard, jealously guarding the privacy of their inner thoughts. A pressing thought in the back of her mind, however, was just how easy they were for her to identify with.
[green]"Forgive me D'rorah. Things have been somewhat tumultuous of late. I . . . am not yet accustomed to . . . well, caring about anything enough to feel stress."[/green]
D'rorah's head shook softly. "[blue]There is nothing to forgive Zane. I understand... better than you might think. Some use humor to deflect, sacasm; others simply appear to the world as though they care about nothing.[/blue]" She closed her eyes for the briefest moment at that poignant self reflection before continuing. "[blue]You will become accustomed to feeling such things in time. I believe that the intensity of our mental connection, once you are accustomed to it, should be easy enough to deal with. Certainly, Mister Bane was a different case in that he completely joined with Miss Collins as a surrogate Elemental Master. She had no other to join to.[/blue]" She could feel her internal regret as the next statement came to her lips. And though it did not show on her face as a result of her customary emotionless demeanor, she knew Zane would sense it as well. "[blue]I have a strong notion that Mister Bane would have been able to endure until Miss Collins had joined with an Elemental Master, if only I had been there with him during his time of stress. I have little doubt that my treatment while... visiting the Department of Mysteries may have also played a rather large hand in his sudden mental deterioration.[/blue]"
She took a deep breath and allowed her head to rest lightly against the cool stone around the window. The day had been so long... and she had been fighting so hard. It felt like years though it had already been... well, she supposed it was just over a year now since her parents had died. And the fight had begun on that very day for her. She opened her eyes and looked back to Zane. "[blue]Though I do worry. You seem to suffer far too much already.[/blue]" The statement was made without the slightest trace of pity or overprotective zeal... merely an observation of fact. D'rorah knew what it was like to be pitied for the damages she had suffered, and even the thought of it brought bile to her throat. Zane had far too much of his own twisted nobility to be pitied.
"[blue]We will work to control this bond. And I shall see whether I can find mention of any way to dissolve it so that it will not trouble you any longer. The other matter I wish to discuss is Miss Chalis... I cannot shake the notion that the occurence in the forest was singularly odd. Also, I find it hard to distinguish whether she is a danger or is in need of protection. Either today was incredibly unlucky for her, or she led me into a trap on the Mage's behalf, or she has some talent the Mage requires and as such is being considered for whatever talents she might have to offer. I would be appreciative if you would oblige in keeping watch over her actions... hopefully something helpful will come of it.[/blue]
She shivered slightly as a cold wind combined with an internal chill. Unconsciously, she moved closer to the wall and pulled her robe tighter around her. Of course, it wouldn't help with the internal chill... but no reason to let it mingle with the external chill, regardless.
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Zane Lucifer Bishop
Slytherin
[green]6th Year Slytherin[/green] Elemental Master of Metal
You people all have to learn. This world is going to burn.
Posts: 483
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Post by Zane Lucifer Bishop on Aug 3, 2008 11:36:49 GMT -5
It was indeed interesting for Zee as he stood there in his place of self reflection to listen to D'rorah's words: words of honesty and empathy. To an outside observer she would likely have seemed just as collected, composed, and perhaps cold as she always did while under the public eye. To Zee, who knew her quite well at this point, she seemed infinitely more accessible and vulnerable. Perhaps it was simply because he'd come to know her so well she was less guarded around him. Perhaps their connection, limited as it was, made her feel as if there was little point in keeping him at arms' length. Or perhaps she was simply too exhausted to care very much. Zee thought it likely a combination of all three. He wondered what she was like when she was alone with Dylan, how open she was then with her emotions.
Though her expression remained as stoic as ever, something in her tone, or perhaps simply because their connection allowed him glimpses of her emotions, told him that she felt great regret and perhaps guilt concerning Mallan's death. He noticed as well that she always referred to him as 'Mr Bane,' perhaps a testament that it did take more than a mental connection to earn any level of intimacy with this girl. Or perhaps she simply used his proper name while speaking about him and had called him 'Mallan' to his face. Coming up beside her and leaning against the stone wall just beside the window, Zee grimaced slightly, the left corner of his mouth pulling out to the side a little more than the right. Whatever the actual expression, his mouth seemed to be crooked as often as not these days.
"I do hope you don't blame yourself for his actions, D'rorah. It was no more your fault that you were captured by the ministry than it was Darko's that he was captured by the former Professor Kade. Not everything is within your control. Besides, with or without your blessing I believe he would have formed the bond with Caitlin. Unassuming as he was, I doubt he would have taken well to being forbidden from helping her. I understand there was something between them."
Admitting that it had not been Alessandro's fault that he had been captured was difficult for Zee. Releasing D'rorah from any responsibility for Mallan while she was forcibly detained also meant that he couldn't logically blame the Elemental Master of Fire for Wysteria's 'death' as he had been essentially captured by his parents at the time. He had more or less come to these conclusions the night of the Valentine's Ball, but still struggled with them. Probably due to simple pride and jealousy of what the other boy meant to Keaira, Zee still disliked him.
Gazing out the window at the night sky, Zee remembered how not so many nights ago in about this same spot and about this same time he had stood with another Shadow Warrior, Susan. And of course there were the multiple meetings with Wysteria and the one with Keaira. A tiny smile came to his face as he marveled at just how many life-changing events had occurred here. The latest, with Susan, had marked the first time he had knowingly received forgiveness for what he had done to Dylan from any save Keaira. Although now, given their connection, he was starting to suspect D'rorah had forgiven him as well and not merely kept him about for practical purposes. It all brought about a curious sensation in him, one that he found he liked very much. Hope.
At that moment she spoke very matter-of-factly, even for D'rorah, saying that she thought he suffered too greatly. This surprised Zee and he showed it clearly, turning toward her looking a little incredulous. He opened his mouth to disagree, to point out that any suffering he endured aside from Wysteria's death had ever been consequences of his own actions. He stopped himself however, remembering how he would always emphasize his own pain when others attacked his actions, whereas now his suffering was being acknowledged and he played the other hand. He seemed determined to disagree with everyone. It brought to mind the last time he and D'rorah had been in the astronomy tower on his first morning at Hogwarts. She had pointed out the intriguing fact that he seemed ready to wholeheartedly agree with her even when he technically didn't. It brought to mind just how very much he had changed, but also gave him the nagging thought that he had indeed traded one dysfunction for another much as he had traded hiding the darkness within him to hiding the light. It was truly maddening.
A shadow of his crooked grin formed at her next words and for a moment he forgot his confusion at her last.
"I don't recall stating that our connection troubles me. Indeed I believe the more irreplaceable I become, the better my chances of not being unexpectedly swallowed by the earth while walking obliviously through the school grounds some day. As for Miss . . . Silren, I'm inclined to believe she could use protection. Though if she knew about it she would loathe any who deigned to consider her unable to protect herself. Almost the quintessential Slytherin, that one. But at any rate, I'll of course keep vigilant. Now, if you'll indulge me, what did you mean earlier?"
It was not a terribly clear question, but Zee trusted in their connection to clarify for her that he was still unsure what she had meant when she'd said she was worried about how much he suffered. It seemed the connection, probably due to the telepathy already present, allowed her to see his thoughts relatively clearly, whereas for him it was almost exclusively distorted, dark images. He had managed to pull Silren's first name out with a moment's focus, but he didn't have anywhere near the access to D'rorah's thoughts that he did to Keaira's.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Aug 3, 2008 17:31:04 GMT -5
D'rorah shook her head as Zane tried to assuage her guilt at what had happened to Mallan. "[blue]I should have had him wait... Miss Collins did not need an Elemental Master at that point. She was in no danger of corruption... she has never even separated from her emotions... never suffered any direct attack from the Mage's minions...[/blue]" she trailed off, feeling a bitter taste on her tongue. Almost certainly that was jealousy. Not that D'rorah wished Caitlin's family might have suffered the same fate as hers, merely that she wished her own family might similarly have been spared. Or at least that their deaths had not been so horrifying and gruesome. "[blue]Though, I realize that having her anchored and available to fight was the most prudent answer at the time... not knowing what we know now, of course.[/blue]"
Seeing Zane's incredulous look at her next statement, she supposed she expected it. Certainly, she had never foreseen herself openly forgiving the person who had tortured Dylan. But then... she hadn't foreseen that it might be someone so very like herself, either. Zane, she realized as she learned more about him, was what D'rorah might have been without her parents' steadfast and firm guidance. Without their love and shaping of her mind... directing her forays into dark magic more academically, it was likely their lives would be quite similar. A wry smile came to her face as he recalled her statement the first day they had met... as they stood in this very tower at the end of a tour of the school.
[green]"I don't recall stating that our connection troubles me. Indeed I believe the more irreplaceable I become, the better my chances of not being unexpectedly swallowed by the earth while walking obliviously through the school grounds some day. As for Miss . . . Silren, I'm inclined to believe she could use protection. Though if she knew about it she would loathe any who deigned to consider her unable to protect herself. Almost the quintessential Slytherin, that one. But at any rate, I'll of course keep vigilant. Now, if you'll indulge me, what did you mean earlier?"[/green]
"[blue]Ah, but you did state that the connection was bothering you,[/blue]" she replied, arching an eyebrow at him. "[blue]You told me not fifteen minutes ago that you think there may be something wrong with your head...[/blue]" She trailed off, a slight smirk coming to her features. "[blue]Or did you merely mean to point out a general condition?[/blue]" Suddenly, she was serious again, all traces of levity gone from her expression. "[blue]As far as worrying the very earth may open up beneath you one day... Korach never asked anyone's forgiveness. I do know that you have suffered since the day you confessed to torturing Dylan. I could see it in you long before we were ever mentally connected... I cannot condone what happened, but I can understand... and with that understanding, forgive.[/blue]"
A dry, ironic laugh proceeded from her throat before she continued. "[blue]You and I are far more alike than I would have guessed. I suspected it before, and I can see it quite clearly now. I have unleashed my share of cruciatus curses... have contributed to what would amount to torture in the name of academia. I always told myself that I did it so others would be better able to protect themselves. All of my research... but then, I never felt the sickening twist in my stomache that my research director seemed to feel.[/blue]" She took a deep breath as she considered the confession she was making... things she had told no one... she hadn't even told Dylan, fearful that there would be no way to make him understand. "[blue]I suppose I earned my moniker at Falstaff's... Demented Dee.[/blue]" Her lips convulsed into a derisive expression, irritated that people would not only take the liberty of addressing her by her given name, but then shortening it and attaching their choice of adjective. "[blue]Not that my research was done where classmates would have gotten wind of it, of course. But apparently I have a certain aura about me that is easily noticed.[/blue]"
"[blue]As far as your suffering is concerned... I must say that Dylan's suffering, if we compare blow for blow, was limited in its duration. Yours, I can tell from the changes you have undergone, will be ongoing. You have suffered enough, Zane. You are forgiven from my side of the table. And I hope that the acquisition of forgiveness will allow you to temper your own inner torment.[/blue]"
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Zane Lucifer Bishop
Slytherin
[green]6th Year Slytherin[/green] Elemental Master of Metal
You people all have to learn. This world is going to burn.
Posts: 483
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Post by Zane Lucifer Bishop on Aug 21, 2008 15:45:34 GMT -5
Silence marked the seconds following D'rorah's proclamations quite conspicuously. Zee's gaze turned from her back to the night sky, his face going blank. The connection however allowed D'rorah to see well enough what he was thinking if she cared to look. This type of romanceless camaraderie was difficult for him. Again he was struck by how easily a veneer of sincerity came to him, and how much he struggled with expressing the genuine article. Though he was capable enough at describing his own suffering, when others acknowledged it and empathized it threw him off. It had happened earlier with Susan, and was now happening again. He was forgiven, and at a loss how to react. His eyes remained up away from her as he spoke.
"Sometimes D'rorah I think my inner torment is the only justice I've ever known. This has been a very good week for me, winning friends and lovers left and right: I now have the forgiveness and well wishes of more of my allies than not; I seem to have secured the affections of my Shadow Warrior; I'm still a prefect and, if you'll forgive my self flattery, the most powerful Elemental Master. If I find myself wanting for anything money can buy, I have full access to my family's vault. I've always been exceedingly wealthy and never desired anything I wasn't granted throughout my youth. I imagine there are few my age who could claim a better position in life than I."
Turning to her, he continued before she could interrupt.
"You're life has been tragedy after tragedy, you're parents brutally murdered, yourself tortured beyond belief, and your cherished one subjected to a similar fate for no purpose beyond the entertainment of the perpetrator. Dylan suffered through that attack, another by his step brother, and a death in the family all within a very short time frame. Darko-"
Here he winced briefly, correcting himself and continuing.
"Alessandro was held captive by his parents and then Dark Phoenix, subjected to torture as well, and then lost within his own mind when he returned, recovering to find that in his psychological absence he'd lost the one he cared about, to none other than myself. Keaira has experienced loss and pain, as you well know. You and she epitomize the catastrophes that are the lives of Shadow Warriors. She lost her grandfather, most of her faith in people, and then lost Alessandro to the insanity of his parents, Dark Phoenix, and finally himself. To top that all off, she has fallen for a monster.
"What have I suffered? I lost Wysteria, much as Caity lost Mallan. But then she was returned. Of course I rejected her point blank, having fallen in love with Keaira. I accrued my own collection of scars at the hands of whatever Kade had become, but you know as well as I that battle scars and marks from torture are hardly the same in anything save appearance. And my parents are alive and well, happily oblivious to everything, still walking about under the imperius curses I put them under before coming to the school. Were I not terrified of the consequences, I would release them, but as it stands . . ."
Here Zee shrugged and turned once more to the stars.
"Show me the justice then D'rorah. You have perhaps committed your share of atrocities, but it was for some purpose, some higher cause. I hurt things because I enjoyed it. Enjoy it still in part. You cannot hold your actions in the same light as mine, and as for the fate of Bryan's predecessor, as you say you did what was prudent at the time. You're psychic in the telepathic sense D'rorah, not the precognitive. You could not have foreseen what occurred."
Letting a sigh escape his lips, Zee's eyes roamed down the the deeper darkness of the forbidden forest.
"I imagine you do not hear this often, but you are simply wrong. I have not suffered enough, not nearly enough."
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Aug 22, 2008 10:09:17 GMT -5
D'rorah quietly waited out the silence, knowing Zane would speak again when he was ready. She tried not to watch his thoughts, but he was far harder to block out now than the average Hogwarts student. She could feel the tension of his thoughts as he rallied for some sort of response, having received an absolution he had never thought he would.
When at last he spoke again, she listened quietly, without interruption. When he was at last finished, she spoke up quietly, her words soft at the edge of the night. "[blue]I am not the only one who is wrong tonight, Zane.[/blue]"
She alternately scanned the heavens, as though searching for something there among the stars, and then viewed the edge of the Forbidden Forest. "[blue]My life, up until the deaths of my parents, was idyllic. I was as happy in my own way as I could be... I had no wants, nothing of consequence to distract me from my studies and academic pursuits. I had a period of being quite happy. And now, to see me through these far rougher times, I have the company of Mister Cooper...[/blue]" She trailed off as, briefly, a genuine smile lit her features.
"[blue]Dylan has endured a great deal this year... but he has recovered from his losses admirably well, considering that they all occurred so closely together. I am rather ashamed of myself to admit that his scars allow me to feel an equality in physical appearance I had found painfully lacking before his attack.[/blue]" She set her expression for a moment, a hard look coming to her eyes. Clearly, she was chastising herself for finding any pleasure in the pain of someone she loved. "[blue]Having to endure so many things at once nearly broke him down... but now that he has recovered, I believe he will begin to see more strength within himself. At least, I hope that he will... he was not raised in any capacity to be a fighter and has little capacity for violence of any sort.[/blue]"
"[blue]And you are not the most poweful Elemental Master. You are the most able to control your Element, and have no doubt spent the most amount of time preparing yourself for the coming war. However, the title of most raw power I must bestow upon Mister Darko. He has not realized it yet because of everything else which has happened in his life, but his power has been with him, growing since he was very young. Unconsciously, he has learned to control it. His fear of harming those around him, however, keeps him from unleashing that power. I have little doubt he could incinerate a large portion of the school if he let himself go... But then, Fire always was a consumptive, powerful element.[/blue]"
She pursed her lips momentarily as her gaze returned to the forest border. She had long considered the need of a second in command. And Zane, with his ability over his Element and his own inner strength, was quickly proving himself to be the most likely prospect. She had thought for a time that it would be Keaira... but Alessandro's disappearance had so wounded her and wounded her still, that she was not certain the Shadow Warrior of Metal would be as effective in a crisis of leadership as her Elemental Master would be.
"[blue]Your parents are likely safest under an Imperius curse at this point. As long as they stay quietly away wherever they are, they have a chance of surviving what is to come. Wysteria...[/blue]" she felt her teeth grind together for a moment at the thought of the girl who had been the only female friend she had ever had... a rather close confidante because the two were so similar in countenance... "[blue]I know she will not remain long in the Forest without you here for her, so I do worry. I pray she is remaining safe out there constantly among darkness... and I wish I could convince her to return to Hogwarts with the rest of us. I know her sense of duty will bring her back to us should the war finally break out... but I do not know if she will be able to return quickly enough from wherever she has gone.[/blue]"
She turned to face Zane, her gaze piercing, hard, assessing. Officially, she led no one. She was the default leader only because of her experience and because she provided a solid foundation for the others to lean upon... now that she had recovered her emotions and had learned once again to keep them tightly under control, she could act rationally and without cracking under the strain of having to make tough decisions the others would shy away from. "[blue]You then, are to be my unofficial second in command. You are the only one capable, and the only one I fully trust to assume leadership in my absence. You have no reserve in making difficult decisions. You will train the other Elemental Masters. Make them realize their powers so they will be useful when the time comes. At the moment, most would be only a hinderance. In the event that anything happens to me... the role of leadership will naturally fall to you because you are the one best suited for it at the moment.[/blue]"
"[blue]You say you have not suffered enough? Well, then I will make you torture yourself. I expect you to make them respect you as they respect me. I do not know what that will entail and I do not care how you choose to go about it, as long as you are successful. You were born to lead. Your troubled past means you will be able to calmly and logically make difficult decisions. I need someone by my side who will not hesitate to make the best logical decision and who will not quail when my orders appear, at first glance, to be cruel. I have found quite a lot to compel me to win this war. And I will not tolerate failure. If there are weak links, we shall ferret them out and strengthen them. Perhaps when this is all over, we will still be human enough to enjoy our reward.[/blue]"
She stood, unmoving, watching for his response. She realized she had thrust quite a burden upon him, but knew he could handle it. Perhaps, with both of them to prepare for this war, they might stand a fighting chance... and the world they all knew might still exist when all was said and done.
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Zane Lucifer Bishop
Slytherin
[green]6th Year Slytherin[/green] Elemental Master of Metal
You people all have to learn. This world is going to burn.
Posts: 483
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Post by Zane Lucifer Bishop on Aug 22, 2008 18:37:08 GMT -5
At the soft admonishment he immediately received, Zee simply gave a small grunt of disagreement. His thoughts however took it a step further, warping her words sardonically and considering that there were indeed very likely many other people in the world who were wrong that night, but he didn't count himself among them. His thoughts quieted however as D'rorah spoke of her past once more. In truth he had a hard time visualizing her as anything other than what she was now. It made him wonder what she had been like when her parents were alive. Had she smiled more?
His expression matched hers as she silently berated herself, his own mind doing the same to him as it often did for being the cause of most of Dylan's scars. He had to consciously keep from reaching up and feeling the large crescent along the right side of his neck. He nodded absently until she mentioned Dylan's aversion to violence. Here he did subconsciously rub his jaw where the boy had slugged him, feeling that he couldn't quite agree with D'rorah's assessment.
His expression only grew more skeptical when she bluntly stated that he was not the most powerful Elemental Master, not letting up when she adorned Alessandro with that title. He had after all battled Alessandro once, and while the boy's viciousness had caught him completely off guard, he had won the fight soundly. Of course that had been while Alessandro's mind was still splintered, and as D'rorah explained the reasoning behind her choice, he remembered the end of the conflict. The Ravenclaw had unintentionally summoned forth quite the inferno, the flames evidently simply reacting to his intense anger. Of course as soon as they'd appeared, Alessandro had panicked, demonstrating his phobia of open flames. Even unfocused as it was, Zee could do nothing at all about the raging fire short of subduing its master. If Alessandro had called it forth purposefully and focused it . . . No, grudgingly Zee had to admit that in the field of pure, unadulterated power, the Elemental Master of Fire did indeed outclass him.
As D'rorah spoke of his parents, he felt a small spike of hope pierce the despair that he'd felt concerning them ever since he'd begun to regret cursing them. Indeed they were safer this way, and under his control they would willingly flee the country in a quick, subtle fashion. He could send them anywhere; they had the money. He would have to remember to do so that very night. Wysteria was another matter. As soon as D'rorah mentioned her, and Zee felt personally to blame for the distraught grinding of D'rorah's teeth as she spoke, his gaze fell to the floor. He was either unwilling or unable to look at her as she spoke of the undying Shadow Warrior of Fire, and turning his eyes to the forest would prove just as impossible. He remained silent and somber until she changed the subject.
His eyes snapping up to her as D'rorah gave him the duty of second in command, Zee's expression held even more incredulity than before. It seemed unlike her to jest so, yet he could see no other explanation. He snorted in blatant disbelief as she proclaimed him most fit to lead in her absence. He had never known her to pursue a joke so tastelessly, but he had never known her for insanity either, and clearly one of the two was occurring. Her final sentences however convinced him of her seriousness, and in a way he could see the logic in her decision. He still doubted very much whether it was a good plan however. His eyes slightly wide as he processed everything, he spoke slowly.
"D'rorah . . . you're not mistaken in some of your claims. I can see that in many ways I am indeed suited to the position you've suggested, but . . ."
But what? Bryan will listen to you, will respect your guidance and advice. Dylan will tolerate it so long as D'rorah asks him to. Alessandro, well, the problems with Alessandro were ever on my end of the relationship. And there is no Master of Water.
Zee's tone as he emphasized 'suggested' held an touch of irony as D'rorah's words had not been delivered in a fashion that could be mistaken for a suggestion. It was a small flaring of his ego, a reminder that while he was perfectly capable of taking direction and could see the merit of her words, he did not overly enjoy being commanded. His thoughts following his attempted excuse seemed to put an end to any logical debate in him however. He did not feel comfortable with this new position, but he found he could offer no real argument against it. He smiled a little, defeated, and sighed.
"Very well. Though if your housemates conspire against me and kill me when they have me alone in the Room of Requirement I'll be severely cross with you."
His smile turned crooked.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Aug 23, 2008 12:24:16 GMT -5
D'rorah listened as Zane began to reply to her charge for him to step up into a leadership role. Her eyes narrowed icily as he deigned to call it a suggestion, of all things. And she could hear the monologue inside his mind as he worked out the logic of her decision for himself. She knew it would be a monumental effort for him to forge the relationship she wanted him to have with the other Lightfighters. She also knew that the slight preening of his ego and the chance to step forward from being yet another follower would spur him on to the job.
At his last statement, she remained deadly serious as she replied. There was no mistaking a certain menace behind her words. "[blue]If, by chance anyone happens to conspire to kill you, Mister Bishop, they will have my own severe anger to deal with... and I assure you that none of you wish to see what that looks like.[/blue]"
Satisfied that he was going to heartily step up to the task that had been set for him, she turned her gaze back to the window and the forest beyond, checking the perimeter once again. Her mind wandered back over the months she had been at Hogwarts, still working subtley to fit all of the pieces together. Unfortunately, she had been more and more disappointed with the allies the war had chosen for her... but always had to take a step back to remember that, as Master Xiu had taught her, many different kinds of people were needed to create the wholeness of their group... of any group. While there were many times when it might have seemed expedient to simply kill off the problematic ones and wait for a more suitable ally to step into place, it would be foolish to do so.
Her thoughts eventually moved back to the earlier events of the evening, remembering that one of her initial intents in having Zane here was to have him watch Silren. "[blue]I expect you will encounter no difficulty in monitoring Miss Chalis.[/blue]" She glanced sidelong at him before continuing. "[blue]And do be cautious about it... I do not feel safe trusting her. The behavior of the Shadows in the forest today continues to strike me as peculiar. I have patrolled the border of that forest many times. Never before have they come so close to the edge when there was daylight about.[/blue]"
Feeling exhausted, she turned and lifted herself onto the window ledge once again, using it as a seat. It had been a very long day and would be longer still if she had her say about it. There were always translations waiting to be done, always the lingering hope of discovering some new and important piece of their abilities or the Mage's weakness enticing her further and further like a carrot on a string. At some point, however, the rushing thoughts of her mind moved from the Shadow Wars to lightly connected string of connections, free association slowly turning into completely random synaptic firings. Before she even realized it had happened, she was asleep, leaning against the side of the window frame--a completely unlikely and odd position indeed. But then, sheer physical exhaustion had a way of making even the stoniest bed feel like down pillows.
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Zane Lucifer Bishop
Slytherin
[green]6th Year Slytherin[/green] Elemental Master of Metal
You people all have to learn. This world is going to burn.
Posts: 483
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Post by Zane Lucifer Bishop on Aug 25, 2008 5:22:45 GMT -5
Zee caught on rather quickly that his humor was not appreciated. His memory brought back something she had once mentioned to him and he considered repeating it to her, but thought better of it. She would likely hear the memory in his thoughts anyway.
'And stop being so serious all the time, you really were much more interesting company when you were able to keep up with my biting banter.'
He also was rather skeptical that Dylan would have aught to fear from D'rorah, short of her going insane with near-corruption again. Alessandro though was a different story. The Master of Fire likely held no more cherished a place in D'rorah's heart than Zee did. Less in fact, or so the Slytherin's ego would have him believe. Despite his silent attempts to cease his aggressive thoughts toward the other boy, Zee couldn't fully suppress a cruel glee at the knowledge that Alessandro's brief stint of insanity had damaged more than one relationship. Perhaps Zee was not the most disliked Elemental Master anymore.
While he would have preferred to keep those thoughts solely in his head, he did appreciate the glimpses he received of D'rorah's thoughts. So he was not the only one who had entertained the possibility of simply executing lightfighters until each position was filled by a capable individual. The imperfect bond however wouldn't give Zee a clear view, and he wasn't sure if he was on the list of people she had considered eliminating. He suspected so.
As she reiterated her concern over Silren and the entire episode that had occurred earlier, Zee simply nodded with a slight smile. He still felt she was being slightly paranoid. To Zee it would make perfect sense for the Shadows to show unusually high aggression around her, knowing how close she'd come to corruption already. Doubtless they would wish to harry her at every opportunity in the hope she would fall prey to the darkness within all Shadow Warriors.
"You needn't worry D'rorah. I'm not exactly unfamiliar with the subtle art of getting close to an individual without them understanding my true intentions. It's done."
Mimicking her movement, Zee slid down to the floor with his back against the ledge. It was very late and the idea of getting off his feet was too tempting to ignore. Wandering into his own thoughts, he reviewed all that had happened that day, all that had happened at the ball, and the commission he'd just received. That would take a lot of thought, figuring out how to get the others to respect his as they did D'rorah. Zee yawned and turned to mention that sleep would be a good idea, but paused as he realized that D'rorah had evidently agreed.
Before he could move to wake her, his vision inexplicably clouded. The dark, cold tower disappeared in a hazy fog of deepest gray. Zee's shock and tinge of fear changed to mere confusion as the fog slowly lifted, leaving him in what appeared to be not the astronomy tower, but a more modern sort of tower, perhaps an upperclass apartment. Though Zee had never been out of the country, he recognized where he must be from the impossibly huge, oxidized copper statue that he could see on a not so distant island out one of the floor to ceiling windows. New York? Why was he in . . . no, why was he seeing New York? The image, so clear for a moment, rippled and grew shadowy once more. His perceptions distorted as everything seems to bend and warp, taking on more sinister appearances. Then the screaming started.
More than just Zee's sight was warped. The screams faded in and out, rose in tempo and pitch and then dropped again. He thought he recognized a woman's voice screaming "Isaac!" The name was familiar, evoked a sensation of connectedness, comfort, but Zee couldn't place it. His vision cleared and things had changed. He was in a closet? His sense of touch was distorted as well, but it seemed as if he couldn't move, that his limbs simply wouldn't respond. There were men in the room, lots of men in dark robes. They blended into the shadowy taint of the vision as if they were part shadow themselves. Two people hovered in the air, held in place with magic not entirely unlike how he had held Dylan aloft. They were calling for each other, their voices seemingly the only parts of them they could use. Unspeakable things were being done to them, the black robed men performing acts that Zee would have amusedly made note of to try if he were at a different stage in his life. It went on for what felt like hours, but he couldn't react, still couldn't move a muscle. He couldn't see the end result, everything went dark again and changed.
For a moment things sped up, shifted around, and then there was pain. There were bonds around his arms, but he couldn't tell what they were made of. They burned. They froze his flesh and melted it off. The sensation was indescribable, like they simply destroyed whatever they touched. His imagination could not have invented more pain than he felt then. He couldn't scream, his lungs and throat contracting from the utter agony. He still couldn't see, couldn't hear. There was nothing but the pain.
Eyes going wide, Zee sat up gasping for air, sweat pouring down his face and chest. He had bee lying on the cold stone floor of the astronomy tower, and now daylight was streaming in through the large window. Without even thinking about it he tore open his shirt, most of the buttons popping off as he rapidly pulled it off his arms, leaving it lying on the floor beside him. In a panic he examined his arms. There were marks yes, but only those he had acquired from his battle with Mordred Kade and had received from Caira as punishment for keeping the other lightfighters from her. There were no scars from the bonds.
Pulling his knees in tight to his chest, Zee wrapped one arm around them, repeatedly running the other hand through his hair as he rocked back and forth trying to breath, trying to slow his heart. Trying to forget.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Aug 26, 2008 1:08:42 GMT -5
Uncertain of how long she had slept and feeling completely disoriented by the fact that she seemed to be sitting mostly upright, D'rorah opened her eyes with a start as she heard a commotion nearby... in the context of the familiar nightmare she had been having, the noise was more worrying than usual. Looking up... or down, rather, she witnessed Zane as he hurriedly discarded the ruined remains of his shirt and made a thorough check of his body. Seeing him rock back and forth, his knees hugged tightly to his chest, she wondered if she weren't still dreaming. Or rather, having nightmares. She paused only long enough to determine that she was indeed awake and then was kneeling beside him in an instant.
"[blue]Zane? What happened? Are you all right?[/blue]" Her brow furrowed with concern as her eyes searched his physical form, looking to see what had caused him such concern over his arms. He was clearly in a state of panic, she could feel the energy radiating through her like electricity because of their connection. His staunch efforts to forget what he had experienced, however, clouded from her the nightmare he had just endured along with her. She reached out and took his face between her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. "[blue]Zane[/blue]" she repeated his name more forcefully.
And then, she felt the haze of her own slumber lift from her. She recognized his terror and the flickering memories of the nightmare that had caused it. Her heart lurched as she wondered just how much he might have seen of that particular memory. The thought of him witnessing her violation by the Shadow Wizards who had brutally murdered her parents wasn't pleasant. For obvious reasons, it was a memory she kept to herself... even having to reveal it in the course of joining with her Elemental Masters had bothered her each time she'd done it. After a moment, she realized that Zane had apparently not only witnessed the events, but had experienced them from her point of view.
At least now she knew what was wrong... that would give her a place to start, at least. carefully gathering up the wreckage of his shirt, she held out a hand to him to help him up, ready to support him physically if his legs refused to cooperate. Having lived through the experience herself and having relived it countless times in night terrors, she was aware of how traumatized and physically drained her must feel. "[blue]You are safe here at Hogwarts, Zane. There is no one here to harm you. Come, you need to rest and recuperate. Take my hand and we will descend from the tower. Apparently our connection caused you to experience my nightmares... perhaps even relive my parents' deaths. I assure you, you are safe here.[/blue]" She kept her tone of voice low and soothing, not wanting to frazzle his nerves any further. It was easy to be compassionate in this instance... she had a good idea of exactly what he had been through.
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Zane Lucifer Bishop
Slytherin
[green]6th Year Slytherin[/green] Elemental Master of Metal
You people all have to learn. This world is going to burn.
Posts: 483
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Post by Zane Lucifer Bishop on Aug 26, 2008 17:06:33 GMT -5
So this is it. This is why. This is what drove Mallan to end it.
Zee was actually mistaken. The voices were what had driven Mallan insane, the three minds in his head. Zee could deal with the voices. He'd been hearing voices telling his to do terrible things for years, and still did occasionally. Keaira's and D'rorah's voices added into the mix didn't bother him any, were actually quite soothing at times. What so disturbed him now were the shared nightmares. Zee had never had nightmares before joining with Keaira, his mind simply unbothered by the horrific images it would occasionally conjure. Keaira's nightmares he'd gotten used to, and hadn't shared in the same way. Perhaps it was the close proximity with D'rorah as she slept that had caused him to experience the nightmare rather than simply observe it. It was a bit much to take, and Zee was truly shaken. His eyes locked onto D'rorah's as she grabbed his face, though it still almost seemed as if he weren't fully seeing her. His voice was flat, dead.
"D'rorah."
His position remained unchanged, though his rocking ceased, replaced by a shivering that had little to do with the cold. The hand that had been mussing his hair lowered, dragging roughly down over his face. His shaking fingers curled into a fist against his lips as he sat there, evidently having grown oblivious to D'rorah soon after acknowledging her. His thoughts swarmed over this latest torturous experience, comparing it to when he'd had a vision of what he'd inflicted upon Dylan, but from Dylan's perspective. That had occurred when he'd lost his battle against Mordred Kade and suffered multiple scarring wounds. Then of course there was his session with Caira, for which he had the constant reminder of the spiraling text carved into his left forearm from elbow to wrist. Reviewing all these, Zee thought it seemed almost as if some higher power was trying to show him something.
Yes, I get it. Torture is bad. Enough.
Starting to come out of the delirium of sorts the nightmare had placed him in, Zee's eyes snapped to D'rorah's offered hand, and after digesting her words for a moment he unwrapped his arm from around his knees and accepted the aid in standing. Once his feet were securely underneath him though, he relinquished her hand and refused any further aid, the feelings rapidly returning to his limbs. Accepting his shirt back, he threw it over his shoulders and stuck his arms through the sleeves, but didn't bother repairing it or collecting the buttons scattered about, leaving it open. In his current mood it didn't particularly matter to hit what he looked like.
"We, none of us, are safe D'rorah. Not here. Not anywhere. You know that."
His words and behavior were cold and rude, but that didn't particularly matter to him either. Sympathy and compassion irked his pride, and he was too distressed to bother hiding it. His mind was still flashing through everything, trying to make sense of it, trying to categorize it and grow comfortable with it. He began walking toward the door and the stairs down, almost entirely unaware whether she was doing likewise.
"I'll see you to your common room. No doubt you'd like to bathe and prepare for the day. I know I would."
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Aug 28, 2008 15:28:46 GMT -5
So this is it. This is why. This is what drove Mallan to end it.
D'rorah heard the thought as clearly as though it had been her own. Involuntarily, her jaw clenched. She'd never had a chance to talk to Caity about Mallan's death, she'd never actually seen the letters or papers sent from China to inform them of his death. All she knew was that he'd apparently committed suicide. How many times had she similarly blamed herself? How many times had she posited that Mallan would still be alive if she had merely been present to do her job, to protect him?
"We, none of us, are safe D'rorah. Not here. Not anywhere. You know that."
She nodded in agreement as zane spoke. "[blue]I meant it from a relative standpoint, of course.[/blue]" She began following Zane down the stairs of the tower room, not bothering to speak. She could tell that her concern had unnerved his stoic sensibilities. And the fact was, that no matter how logically she could dispossess herself of guilt for Mallan's death, she still felt culpability. All of her training with Master Xiu had impressed upon her just how heavy her responsibility was for protecting her Elemental Master.
"[maroon]I'll see you to your common room. No doubt you'd like to bathe and prepare for the day. I know I would.[/maroon]"
"[blue]Of course,[/blue]" she agreed, falling into step beside him. She wasn't sure why he was bothering to walk her to her common room, but didn't really care... if nothing else, it would give her a few more moments' opportunity to keep an eye on Zane and make sure he was really alright. The winding staircase seemed ridiculously tedious at this point... she really did wish to simply shower and get on with her day. Falling asleep in the tower hadn't fit into her plans for the evening... her intent had been, as it usually was, to spend a great deal of the time researching, to exhaust herself until she hopefully had no energy left for dreams or nightmares. It almost never seemed to work though... the nightmares found her, regardless of how little energy she might have for them.
And so, the descent to the Ravenclaw common room was filled with silence. As soon as the hated brass knocker came into view, D'rorah braced herself for its bribing riddles and ire-raising banter. Reaching the door, she ignored the unnecessary parts of the knocker's banter and merely answered the provided riddle, opening the door. She was quite certain she heard rather a few choice things this time, given the current state of appearance of both herself and Zane. Of course, that particular knocker seemed determined to irritate her to death, so she ignored the barbs. Stepping through the door, she led the way inside, still not certain she trusted that Zane was quite well enough to make it to the dungeons on his own after what he had just witnessed.
Making several steps into the common room, she turned to face Zane, looking him over to assure herself that he was indeed alright. She knew how disturbing the memories were that he had experienced... she lived them again and again in her dreams after having had the initial experience. And hearing him blame her memories for Mallan's death had been difficult, no matter how stoic she might be. It had simply hit too close to home. As she looked over Zane and the wreckage of his shirt, paused, thinking something more profound than a simple farewell was in order, but unable to think of anything further she might say.
"[blue]Good day, Zane. Please inform me if...[/blue]" if what? If there was anything she could do to help? How ridiculous and trite and very unlike her. "[blue]Good day, Zane. We should meet again soon.[/blue]" Yes, that would work. They would have much collaborating to do if they wished to ensure the success of the Lightfigters. "[blue]Please inform me when you are free for another sojourn to the tower[/blue]"
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Aug 29, 2008 20:09:26 GMT -5
His eyes beginning to fail him given the late hour, Dylan considered going to bed, the lure of his soft sheets extremely tempting at this point. The fire had mellowed down considerably, now just a small horizon of fire under the mantle before him, and it was ensuring that his sleepiness couldn't be combated all that effectively. Setting his quill down for a moment, his current paragraph of homework finished, he rubbed his eyes tiredly and relaxed himself in the armchair he currently occupied. His mind, despite wishing to trail off, went over the last few paragraphs he had constructed and upon reaching a hiccup, he bent forward to adjust how he had written out a certain concept. His quill scratched out a few sentences before he quickly rewrote them, ensuring that they made complete sense this time.
Sighing and rubbing his eyes lightly once more, he watched the fire for a moment before hearing the door knocker begin its usual snide remarks to anyone who happened by. His brow furrowed in slight confusion as he wondered who could be trying to gain entrance to the common room at this hour, and his ears listened intently for any clues and he settled well into his chair, not wanting to be seen immediately. Of course, he didn't entirely realise that it was largely just D'rorah and himself that the brass handle tended to shoot such barbed comments to, so in turn he didn't seem to understand that it was Dee who walked through the entrance.
Hearing her voice, however, he perked up immediately; shortly before realising who she was addressing. His jaw clenching slightly, he didn't bother to wait for Zane's reply before standing up and turning to face the pair. Noticing immediately that the Slytherin's shirt was in a small state of disrepair, or rather to his slightly paranoid mind looked like it had been ripped open in some fiery passion, his face was set. Of course, he trusted Dee beyond anything, and knew nothing of that sort had gone on between them, but he was smart enough to realise that something had happened. A 'sojourn to the tower' was hardly the most innocent suggestion in the world, afterall, and his eyes met D'rorah's in a small question before he decided that perhaps he didn't want to know, and he turned toward his dormitory stairs.
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