Warming up (Open)

[Dylan Cooper]

The weather today just couldn't seem to make up its mind. One minute it was sunny and brilliant, blue parading about the sky. The next, clouds hovering on the edges of eyesight converged and covered over the entire sky, blocking out all traces of sunlight and casting a dull glow upon the world. Making his way down the main street of Hogsmeade, Dylan was soon to be found turning off of it, heading down a smaller side street.

Reaching his intended destination, he opened the door to Madam Puddifoot's, the sky behind him a deceptively convincing shade of gray. Pulling off his favourite, navy blue beanie and shuffling out of his overcoat, he headed towards his favourite table by one of the windows. It did not provide the prettiest view; merely a large picket fence that bordered the alleyway directly to the side of the window, but Dylan always liked to perceive the persons travelling past. Plus, this window always frosted over the most, and for some reason received the most rainfall. He absolutely loved to gaze at it when the cold of the season caused little circles to form or droplets of rain paced down.

Resting back in his chair, he ordered a simple cup of coffee from the passing matron and received it quickly, as the place wasn't exactly full. Taking a sip of the warming drink, the effects of the chill wind outside quickly evaporating like the steam on the surface of the coffee.

[Susan Matthews]

Out for the day at Hogsmede was a wonderful experience, Susan discovered as she had made her way through the many shops here and there. She had stopped in Honeydukes and Zonko's, to name a few and hadn't planned on heading back to Hogwarts for a while. Though the weather was in a sort-of bipolar state, Susan still enjoyed being out in the open. It was nice to get away from the daily grind every once in awhile.

Both hands holding several shopping bags, Susan searched for a place to escape from the cold for a while. The desired destination would be The Three Broomsticks, she thought to herself. Realizing that The Three Broomsticks was back the way she came, Susan, not wanting to backtrack, found a side street,. She was hoping to find another beverage-serving place to stop at.

"Madam Puddifoot's" Susan read aloud, stopping at the first shop that came into view. She lowered her gaze from the sign to the steamy window below. It took her only a moment to recognize that it was Dylan sitting at the small table on the other side of the glass. A big smile sprouted on Susan's face, and she managed a small wave. This was quite a feat considering the several small bags she was holding at the time.

Susan found the entrance to the small cache and made her way over to Dylan. "Long time no see, huh?" she greeted lightheartedly, taking a seat at the same table as him and carefully setting her bags next to her chair.

[Dylan Cooper]

From the corner of his eye, Dylan spotted an exuberant movement that he interpreted as a wave. He wasn't quite sure, however, due to the extensive range of shopping bags dangling from the hands of the waver herself. Reciprocating the action with a small, brief wave of his own, Dylan watched as she approached the coffee shop and returned his attention to a speck on the table before him. His eyes were unfocused as his ears picked up the opening of a door nearby, and he quickly forced himself out of his little stupour as she sat down, commenting in a bubbly manner as she did so.

Nodding slightly in response, he took another sip of his beverage of choice and replaced the cup onto the table, the impact causing a light tapping sound to reverberate toward his ears. Raising his gaze to focus on her, his mouth was about to voice a small sentence when the matron shuffled over and asked Susan what she'd like.

Choosing to take the simple route and consume another gulp of the warming drink, he held it up slightly, indicating it was about empty, and requested another.

[Susan Matthews]

Susan shrugged off her coat and placed it over her chair. She began to pull her gloves off, finger by finger. Distracted momentarily by a woman, presumably a waitress, given by the frilly apron she seemed to be forced to wear, Susan stopped, one glove still on, and the other laid on the small table. To the waitress asking for an order, Susan murmured with a smile, "I'll have a Chai tea, thanks." Dylan had motioned for another of whatever he had been drinking. The waitress gave a quick nod and went off to pull together their orders.

Susan returned to her second glove, working slowly as not to accidentally turn any of the finger holes inside out. She looked up at Dylan as her smallest finger was freed and the glove was reunited with its pair on the table. He seemed distracted. "How have you been?" Susan asked carefully. She had the fleeting thought that maybe he had been waiting for somebody else, but dismissed the thought, reading his body language. He might have shown some sort of emotion if it was someone else he was expecting.

Susan was glad to have the chance to speak with Dylan. She'd seen him in and out of classes, but things had been hectic lately. They hadn't had a chance to really hang out. She smiled, hoping some of the warmth she was radiating would rub off on him.

[Dylan Cooper]

Barely noticing the actions of the girl seated opposite him, Dylan waited, rather impatiently so, for his coffee. He required something with which he could occupy his hands, and a drink was often the perfect tool for such things. Her words drifted through the haze of his thoughts and his eyes found a spot on the table, only registering what he was seeing before him in the very subconscious of his mind.

"Oh, you know," he began quietly, not sure yet whether he wanted to divulge the events of the previous week. The pair, he knew, were bonded in such a way that Dylan didn't for a moment even consider deception as a viable option. "Not too good, actually. I thought I could handle coming back here, but it appears I was wrong," he muttered. Expecting that perhaps she was thoroughly confused by his choice of words, he sighed lightly and decided to elaborate. "My foster father died last week," he stated simply, his voice barely above a whisper. "I attended the funeral in the weekend, and among other happenings, I nearly died thanks to a lovely fellow I call my foster brother."

Flashes of that night ran through his mind at the mention of it; the struggle on the ground, the bone-crunching impact of John's fists onto his ribcage and the taste of blood that was the last memory of the incident, his head having been pounded into the hard, cold concrete below.

Closing his eyes briefly in an attempt to dispel such thoughts, he then looked up and found her own eyes. His own, he knew, held a sadness and sense of loss that could perhaps never be conveyed through words.

[Susan Matthews]

She frowned in sympathy as she listed to Dylan delve into his feelings and what had been happening to him recently. "Oh Dylan," She said, wishing she knew some way of relating to what he was going through. The immense sadness in his eyes was evident. Susan wasn't used to her usually-happy Dylan in this sad state. In attempt to making things better, Susan moved her chair closer to her friend. Leaning into him, Susan made an attempt at an awkward hug.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered as she gave him a quick embrace. She returned to her upright position just in time for the matron's return with their drinks. "Thank you," Susan said solemnly as she took the Chai Tea handed to her. She didn't move her chair back, but remained just a foot or so away from her friend in need. She recalled the first time they had met, at the lake. After returning to the castle, completely drenched, together they had broken the unwritten rule. They had eaten dinner together even though they were of different houses. Susan remembered the conversations and topics they had discussed. Dylan had spoken of his Foster father with love and caring. It was horrible to think that this man was now gone from this Earth. Even worse it was to think, that one Dylan had considered a brother had attacked him.

She didn't know what else to say. She took a few careful sips of her steaming cinnamon tea, keeping a careful watch over Dylan.

[Dylan Cooper]

Her words largely passing directly through him, he couldn't even conjure the will to nod in response. Suddenly feeling her arms around him, he awkwardly returned the movements. Dylan, while having had quite a lot of physical contact with D'rorah lately, was still quite unused to it around others. Susan was indeed one of his closest friends and they shared a bond most people could never even begin to comprehend, but all the same, the action was incredibly awkward for him.

Receiving his drink with a small word of thanks, he simply stared into the depths of his black coffee, not really seeing a thing. Raising his eyes to meet hers, he put on a half-hearted smile and wondered if she could understand the pain of losing someone so close. Considering she was a Shadow Warrior, it would be assumed that she had, especially given the histories of all others that he knew. However, D'rorah had spoken of the fact that Susan's discovery seemed odd in occurrence, no bloodshed or pain involved whatsoever.

Briefly, he considered whether or not she felt slightly guilty for this fact, albeit quite relieved. He couldn't image that it would be incredibly easy knowing that all of the others had endured some terrible tradgedy in order to get to where they were, and that she had simply strolled along a corridor in the middle of the night. Realising that if he were in that situation he might not feel very accepted, he was absent of pity but held a slight sadness at this thought.

Taking a sip of the boiling liquid contained within his cup, he held it between his hands, longing for the warmth within to affect him to some positive degree or another. Clearing his throat lightly, he opened his mouth to speak before finding that the words would not emerge. And so, he tried again. "So... how've you been?" he asked quietly, this time succeeding in producing sounds recognisable as speech.

[Susan Matthews]

A horrible silence had filled the bubble around their table with the arrival of their drinks. Uncomfortably, Susan racked her brain for something to say, anything to say. There were only so many sips of Chai Tea you could take before the other person would realize that you were holding back. Dylan's overall distant attitude hadn't left after Susan's attempt to make things better. She hadn't expected Dylan to be back to normal with a snap of the fingers. She couldn't say she hadn't hoped though. Taking another slow sip of her cinnamon drink, she crossed her legs. Susan began to shake the elevated foot, subconsciously, and she resisted the urge to bring her mutilated cuticles to her mouth.

At the opening of Dylan's mouth, Susan quickly looked over. He seemed be having trouble finding words, because as quickly as he had opened his mouth, he soon was closing it again. Susan glanced out the window just as Dylan decided to speak. He spoke so quietly, Susan almost missed the words that escaped from his mouth.

How are you, he had asked. It was a simple enough question. Susan struggled for a moment, deciding how to respond. "I've been thinking about you," Susan said truthfully. She had noticed when Dylan had to unexpectedly leave. She hadn't been informed of the details, but she'd worried nonetheless. "I'm not sure if this was before or after your return, but D'rorah has taught me a new form," she said carefully, not wanting to completely turn the focus of the conversation too much toward herself. She was, in fact, eager to show off to Dylan her new moves. The bond between them was so great, though. The immense sadness coming from Dylan was obvious. Now was definitely not the time. Susan looked down to see her foot shaking violently. She reduced it to a light bounce before bringing her fingers to her mouth, and beginning to chew on the closet cuticle. As much as she hated the nervous habit, she couldn't seem to shake it. She shot a glance at Dylan, nervous for his response, if there would even be one.

[Dylan Cooper]

Nodding slightly at her response, he actually managed to feel quite good about the fact that he'd been on her mind. It was a strange thing, to have friends. Dylan had never really been very social, and in fact had avoided such things as if it were the plague. This year had seen a slight turn around in his attitude; while keeping his laid-back demeanor, he had actually made attempts to befriend his peers, most of which had paid off.

Having finally spent enough time mulling over the death of his father and opened up to a few people, he found that he'd just about moved on. While never forgetting his paternal father, the man had previously occupied his every thought, affected his every action. Only recently had this faded somewhat, allowing him more freedom within his own thoughts than he could have ever imagined.

And now, after having finally started to move on, his closest remaining father-figure had been killed. It was sort of like starting all over again, really. Sighing lightly, as if this could force the negative thoughts from within him, he produced a very half-hearted smile, one which by no means reached his eyes.

Only vaguely aware of the fact that she was biting her fingernails, he wondered what to say in response to her last comment. The mention of D'rorah, however, helped his mood slightly. A more genuine sort of a smile rose onto his face at the thought. "You could show me it if you like," he remarked quietly.
Swigging the rest of the coffee, it burnt his throat on the way down and he stood up, ignoring the pain and indicating to leave. He needed something, anything, to take his mind off of things, and the focus of training seemed to instill calm within him no matter his normal feelings at the time.

[Susan Matthews]

Susan let her hand fall back into her lap as Dylan responded to her initial answer. A small smile appeared on her face to Dylan's reaction. He had stood, making the action to leave. Susan glanced down at her half-finished tea, deciding she could convince a house elf to make her another later if she was still craving the cinnamon taste. "Alright, if you're up to it," Susan said following Dylan, standing up as well.

Susan put back on her coat. Retrieving them from the table, she slipped on her gloves. Her fingers quickly found the allotted holes, one by one. Tidying up after herself, Susan pushed in her chair and the other one holding a couple of her bags. Thinking smart, she cast a charm over the lot of the packages and shopping bags, making them lighter in weight. Satisfied that the majority would be less of a burden, she ended by muttering, "Reducio." Upon doing so, causing the larger of the bags to become more manageable.

"I don't know why i didn't think of that earlier," Susan joked as she easily picked up the various packages, holding them in her arms. She looked to Dylan to make sure he was ready to leave as well. It went without saying where they would be heading. The place where they would go to prepare for the dangers ahead. The place where the could train and practice. The place that felt like a second home, of warmth, and nature. The perfect place to regenerate lost energy and hope. Susan had the Element of Earth on her mind as she thought of the Room of Requirement on the lone sixth floor corridor.

(ooc: we went here: www.ragedsyphers.proboards100.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=ror&thread=1194225098&page=1)