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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 20, 2007 22:47:25 GMT -5
Seeing Dylan's eyes finally meet her own, and feeling the grasp of her hand reciprocated, D'rorah smiled as Dylan pulled her into an embrace. Her arms wrapped around him readily, holding him close. Content to simply stay there, holding him close, she allowed her hands to rest at his back. He did feel a bit different, somewhat diminished from the self-assured young man he had been. But then, she herself had been a bit different after her own attack. Nothing major had changed, she was the same D'rorah she had been before, but she had been quite nervous and jumpy... and even more reluctant to trust than usual.
.Hearing a small pop, she pulled back from the embrace and looked toward the source of the sound. Standing next to them, bearing a large tray covered with luscious cut fruit and cheeses and two breakfast plates76, was the same small house elf. He looked up at Dylan with large eyes and set the tray on the table next to the bed. "Is there being anything else Miss or Sir needs from Cammie?" he asked hopefully.
"No thank you, Cammie," replied D'rorah. "I believe we have everything we need right here." She took up the first of the plates and began playing pieces of fruit on it, along with several cubes of cheese. "I thought it might be prudent to include something a bit more substantial than just fruit," she said, explaining the cheese. "I almost asked for eggs, but realized that I was unsure of how you like your eggs." With the plate covered with fruit and cheeses, she passed it to Dylan. "I suppose this is a good beginning."
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Nov 21, 2007 1:36:51 GMT -5
Rejoicing in the feel of her embrace, he found his mind traveling back to the times they had shared that had been so similar to this. A lot of things might have changed, but the feeling such intimate contact gave him remained exactly the same. The calming sensation of both feeling and being so close to the woman he loved, her particularly pleasant scent running through his mind and dimming every negative thought to some degree or another. Sighing in the most contented manner that had resided within him over the past few days, Dylan felt her pull back as, presumably, their House Elf had reappeared. Surprisingly, he had not been alarmed or nervous as he’d heard the small ‘crack’ produced by the apparition of the small creature, something which he readily attributed to D’rorah being at such a close proximity. He knew he needed her now, more than ever.
His eyes found those of the helpful little elf as she placed their tray of ordered food onto the table neighbouring his bed. Casting his eyes back down to his hands, he neglected to answer Cammie as D’rorah did the honours. Dylan truly believed that they indeed had everything they needed right here as his gaze reverted back to Dee, his eyes studying her soft features in what he hoped was a relatively discreet manner. Not for the first time, he resisted the urge to nod at her comments. “Scrambled,” he remarked quietly, unsure if she even heard him but not particularly minding either way.
Receiving the plate she extended to him, he selected a few bits of fruit to nibble on. He figured that while Dee would surely ensure that he ate, he might as well take advantage of that and gain some fuel. Struggling to swallow properly, he wondered at that. His neck didn’t appear too damaged. In fact, apart from one slash across the center, it was untarnished. He had a slight inkling, however, that either that one curse had affected his ability to swallow solids properly, or he was just reluctant to eat. His eyes shutting briefly at the slight pain caused from swallowing, he sighed and allowed his eyes to slowly re-open.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 21, 2007 13:15:52 GMT -5
D’rorah watched as Dylan selected a few pieces of fruit from the plate she held out to him. Seeing him shut his eyes as he swallowed, followed by a sigh and the reopening of his eyes, her brow quirked in concern. Of course, after such an attack, even the mere energy expenditures required to keep one alive seemed like so much. Nothing had been easy in those first days. Dylan was already faring better than she. She had refused to speak to anyone except to relay the particulars of her physical damage to the healing team which had attended her after her attack. Those first days she had been silent about her own emotional status… but then, there had been no one there to ask after her other than a psychiatrist who was apparently overworked and had little time to spare for something as blasé as the stress of the attack she had endured. Yes, she was quite boring when compared to the many other patients he must have had to attend to, certainly.
Though she had been in the hospital for two months following the attack, she had received only one visit. That visit had been from her research mentor at Falstaff’s, delivering a copy of her newly-published research on Unforgivable Curses to the hospital. He, of course, was not a terribly compassionate person himself and had not asked after her well-being at all, except to inquire what she might begin researching next. She had not minded the absence of visitors, preferring to work out her emotional problems for herself… but the quiet of her room had pressed home with vehemence the fact of how isolated she had been after losing her only living human connections to the world around her.
She pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on Dylan. She kept the tray held out, silently urging him to eat more. Surely, he had not had enough yet to ensure that his energy levels were maintained at a level which would allow him to heal properly. She reached for a piece herself, hoping he would eat more if she joined him. Certainly, Cammie the house elf had provided enough for at least three people, possibly four, so there was no need to worry that her eating would lessen the amount available for Dylan. “This is not quite as good as breakfast in Tel Aviv,” she remarked, a teasingly suggestive tone to her voice, “but I suppose it will do quite well for now.”
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Nov 21, 2007 18:32:59 GMT -5
Deciding that the smaller bits of fruit were a slightly better option, he struggled to consume a bit more before largely giving up. He didn’t even feel that hungry, anyway. Normally he’d be the first at the dinner table, eager to whoof down whatever delicious meal was presented before him, and while that was not a difficult feat with his mother at home, it certainly was at the blacksmiths where he’d spent most of his years living so far. Him and John had a few things in common, afterall, like incredible appetites and determination. It was just that Dylan tended to put his willingness to achieve great feats toward a more positive outcome than beating up a little kid.
Thinking of how injured he’d been following his most recent beating, he found that whoever had done this was just as much of a bully, but with far worse methods. John was a Muggle, and while Dylan didn’t consider himself above that level by any means, it represented the simple fact that there were far worse pains to be endured from any amateur wizard than from a schoolboy bully. While in the end he accepted that perhaps you could deal just as much damage and pain with conventional methods as with dark magic, perhaps excluding the Cruciatus Curse, he knew that at the basic to intermediate levels, wizards by far had the advantage over another if they were without a wand or the ability to use it.
Hearing her lightly teasing words, a small smile rose onto his face. “I don’t recall actually getting much food down whenever we attempted to have a meal,” he remarked quietly, his eyes finding hers. Though his own were not lit by any interior happiness, he at least felt such a thing creeping through him as he considered that she was still here, still with him and laughing with him. As he considered that he was still alive to have her be with him in the first place.
Thinking back and once again berating himself for not having used the materials of the room against his disillusioned attacker, he blinked and tried to force the thought away. It would do him little good now; all he could really do was hone his instinctive use of his element, or at least remember he possessed such power the next time such an incident occurred. And indeed, he was sure there would be a next time, whether by the same wand or not. With a quick thought, he haltingly reached for his wand and stared at it for a moment. “Priori Incantatem,” he muttered quietly. Nothing happened. Grimacing, he tried again, this time managing only to produce a hint of a shadow. If one blinked, one would have missed it.
Knowing he needed to focus, not to mention use his energy wisely, he tried once more. Concentrating on the task at hand, he spoke the incantation in his still relatively weak voice, but there was a slight power behind his words. At once, a string of ghostly images were produced from the tip of his trusty wand; the wand given to him by D’rorah, no less. The first shape showed what appeared to be some sort of healing spell; the boils upon a body, which he could only recognise because he remembered experiencing each and every painful curse added to it, slowly receded. The bleeding also appeared to have stopped somewhat. Feeling rather sick at the image, his eyes remained unable to look away as he was both stunned and levitated into the air, before being disillusioned himself. He could only assume that this was the point in which they departed the Room of Requirement. He saw next the increasing and decreasing of volume, which he could only manage to associate to the summoning of Nurse Aku. After that, there was only a shadow of his own patronus, the one he had created last night to translate his need for D’rorah to be with him.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 21, 2007 22:40:11 GMT -5
Hearing Dylan mutter a 'priori incantatem', D'rorah watched to see what would happen. The spell seemed to fizzle out, offering only a few shadows. She was just about to remark that he should probably simply allow himself to rest when he cast the spell again.
This time, the spell was cast successfully and she watched as a parade of images passed before her eyes. The sight was easily as horrible as some of the things she had seen in the course of her own Dark Arts research, but took on an even more hideous quality given that Dylan was the subject of the attack. It was as though she could feel each spell as it was cast. What stood out in particular was the fact that this attacker was very smart, and very careful... he had used Dylan's wand instead of his own... he had taken care to disguise his appearance... had gone to the trouble of assuring that Dylan was quickly found by the school nurse...
She trailed off at this last thought. Why in the world would the Mage do anything like this? It had not been an attempt to corrupt Dylan, or it would not have ended so quickly. No actual Shadow Magic or Shadow Blades were used, he would surely not have been brought to the infirmary before the corruption was complete had that been the goal. It wasn't someone simply trying to kill Dylan as a means of getting back at him. It didn't even seem to be very personal... it was like... whoever had done this was merely playing an incredibly painful game. He had toyed with his prey, even healing Dylan so that he could extend his fun longer.
As the images faded, she blinked her eyes several times, as though the action might dispel the remnants of what she had just seen from her mind's eye. Unsure of what to say, of what she could possibly say that might be of some help, she chose to remain silent, but gave Dylan's hand a soft squeeze.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Nov 21, 2007 23:29:15 GMT -5
Reluctantly absorbing what he had just seen, Dylan made sure to keep his eyes averted from D’rorah’s. He didn’t want to see whatever he might within them, whether it was horror, sympathy, or simply love. He didn’t want to feel close to anyone when he felt so revolting. He attempted to pull himself away from such thoughts, such feelings, however. Feeling the small squeeze provided by Dee, he resolutely shoved aside his feelings of self-deprecation, knowing that if he lingered too long in that realm that he might never come back. Choosing, while he was still even vaguely willing to do something about this depressive stupour that had settled over him during the course of the past few days, to focus on the positive, Dylan turned his mind to happier times. Then he realised, that despite his current condition, this could be one of those happy times. Well, perhaps not happy persay, but it didn’t have to be terribly despairing, either. He was alone with the woman he loved, with someone who was willing to stand by him despite his appearance, despite his trauma, and despite his slight change in personality.
Appreciating fully the fact that she was here, he reciprocated her squeeze to the fullest extent that he was able. “I love you, D’rorah,” he remarked quietly, finally gaining the nerve and will to gaze into those eyes that he loved so. Society often associated such an eye colour with cold detachment, and while he recognised that Dee did portray such an emotion, he knew that something much kinder and much more loving lay beneath it. He found within those eyes exactly what he needed.
Swallowing lightly, for once all thoughts of the perpetrator of such terrible actions was pushed to the back of his mind; insignificant for the time being. All that mattered was that she was here with him, standing right beside him as he hoped she always would. Indeed, if anyone could even remotely understand what he had gone through it was her, and he knew that she had endured far worse in only the past few years. Gaining a new-found respect for the remarkable young woman before him, he also realised that she would not have had anyone beside her during the recovery, no-one to talk to, no-one to simply care. The only people to ever really love her had just been lost to the shadows. But now he was here, and he fully intended to make up for that as much as possible. “Come here, my love,” he requested quietly, tugging lightly at her hand and struggling to pull her into an embrace once more. Once he had managed to do so, however, he held on.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 21, 2007 23:56:43 GMT -5
Feeling the squeeze she had offered reciprocated, D'rorah smiled. "I love you too, Dylan," she replied happily, pushing away the mixed emotions which had coursed through her being after witnessing the priori incantatem. She felt his tugging and moved into Dylan's embrace. She smiled at his request and placed a light kiss on his cheek. Her head came to rest in the crook of his neck and shoulder as her arms wrapped securely around him. "Thank you for allowing me to stay with you," she murmured softly, understanding that it could be difficult to have others around when one was in such a precarious emotional state.
There were a million concerns in her mind. He should eat more to keep his strength up; he should rest more; she should be tending to his remaining wounds. She forced her mind to be silent, knowing that at the moment he needed exactly this. Just the feeling that someone was here, not pushing or judging, simply being here to support him and be with him. She had offered all the help she could think of for the moment, so she hoped he knew that he was free to avail himself of it at any time.
She shifted her body into a more comfortable position, hugging him more securely. She attempted to convey silently her love and support for him in that embrace. Though, it was somewhat difficult to hold back a recommendation that he should rest and recuperate. She rather hoped he would sleep again soon, while she could be there to guard his sleep. Even on night of pleasant sleep seemed to have had a rather dramatic effect on him. Remembering what she had done, she cringed inwardly. She would have to tell him what she had done at some point... she only hoped he wouldn't be angry.
For now though, she would let it be. There was really nothing to gain beside her own peace of mind with such a confession and she was here to assure his peace of mind, not her own.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Nov 22, 2007 0:51:48 GMT -5
Feeling the soft touch of her lips against his cheek, he sighed contentedly as he felt everything restored to how it should be; his arms wrapped around her as much as he was able and such an action reciprocated to a rather more significant extent. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replied softly, one hand coming to run through her hair lightly. At the action, he recalled the many times she had done such a thing with his own dark brown strands and had to stubbornly fight down the now-familiar feeling of extremely lowered self-esteem.
Images of that night, unbidden, were flowing through his mind, invading every corner, sweeping over his every emotion and replacing them with something darker. The feelings of helplessness, so aggravating because he knew now that something could have been done about it; he had not been helpless, swam to the surface of his mind along with the real-life doubles of what he had seen with priori incantatem. Everything seemed slightly surreal in such small, shadowy forms, but when one held the true memories, it was a significantly more ominous and painful recurrence of feeling. Never quite wishing to let go of the woman in his arms, he simply clung to her as if she were his last hold on life.
Finally pulling back after a long, seemingly comfortable silence, Dylan smiled lightly. One might care to note that, despite everything, his eyes still remained without the glowing happiness that was usually present around D’rorah, or indeed even when he thought about her of late. Deciding that perhaps it would be prudent to avoid summoning the plate of food, or in fact attempting to produce any spellwork, Dylan sighed lightly, though not in an unhappy fashion. Finding the food, he took a few more of the smaller pieces of fruit and some cheese for good measure. As he took a good, long look at her, he began to grow curious. “Dee, have you had any sleep lately?” he queried in a small voice, consuming the food contained within his hand with some effort.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 22, 2007 6:51:38 GMT -5
D'rorah studied Dylan's smile briefly, wondering if his eyes would ever again look as they had before, if he would ever regain the warmth that had seemed to radiate from them when she looked into them. She rather hoped that, with time, it would return. Of course, he was still the same person, warm eyes or no... but she always found the sight incredibly captivating. She exhaled softly as he sighed, her smile perking a bit as he took more of the fruit and cheese which the House Elf had brought for them. Yes, apparently not nagging him to eat more was working alright so far. Besides, she couldn't hope to accomplish much with constant nagging anyway.
As he studied her, she returned his gaze evenly, not shrinking away from it. And then, she heard him ask a question. She debated for a moment. The thought of lying to Dylan just didn't seem at all like something she wished to do. And her own guilt over entering his mind was playing a part as well, making her feel as though she should simply come out with it... She raised her voice to speak softly. "I remained awake last night so that I would be available immediately if you needed me." She squeezed his hand softly. "I will attend to my own needs before they become of a pressing concern," she reassured him. "I believe you could do with a bit more pleasant sleep anyway," she added. As the words came from her mouth, she mentally smacked herself. Thinking he might think she simply meant that he needed more sleep, she didn't elaborate; she really did want to wait until he had recovered a bit more before she actually made that confession. How would he react to her being in his mind anyway? Thinking to change the subject, she focused instead on his nutrition. "Is your breakfast alright? Would you care for anything else along with it?"
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Nov 22, 2007 22:17:31 GMT -5
Having assumed that she had stayed awake, Dylan was hardly surprised with her response. Failing to return the squeeze her hand provided his own with, he accepted without a word her explanation. It made sense, afterall, and he had no tendencies whatsoever to doubt anything she said. Once again finding the urge to nod rising within him, he suppressed it. Nurse Aku had told him to refrain from moving his head too much, ever since the night he had been brought in. Remembering the pain of having to rip the sticky skin of his scalp from the pillow on which he’d lain, Dylan would have given anything to look away from D’rorah at that moment. Settling for the closest alternative, shutting his eyes, he forced them to remain that way until the memory had simmered down; which, in the end, was actually quite a long time.
Re-opening them but failing to meet her eyes, he sighed lightly, despite the heavy thoughts that resided behind it. Thinking that he would only wish for more sleep if it would mirror that he had most recently experienced, Dylan knew that he wished to stay awake as long as possible if the outcome was to return to his nightmares. Always the same, going over and over the series of events of the night and everything that led up to his capture; the ever-present stench of burning flesh residing throughout his dreams. Tensing his jaw slightly, an action that would be missed by perhaps everyone except for D’rorah, he decided to answer her question. “No, it’s fine… I’m not very hungry,” he commented quietly, unsure of exactly what he was saying, his mind still lingering in the world of dreams.
Assuming that D’rorah’s presence set him at ease in both his sub and conscious mind, he hoped that he was right as he resigned himself to the idea of resting a bit more. It was reasonably safe to assume this, however, considering that the first night she had spent with him, he had actually had pleasant dreams; already today he had felt more revitalised than usual. Albeit, he hadn’t felt much more revitalised, but it had had a slight affect; anything was better than nothing, or in fact a decrease in his state, anyway. Hoping some more sweet dreams would improve his mood further, not to mention the extended visit of Dee that continuously made him feel better, he kept his eyes pertinently averted from her own. “I think you’re right,” he replied softly, feeling his acceptance of imminent sleep causing his eyelids to become heavy already. Vaguely wishing that he could acquire the closeness they had reached in Tel Aviv, he knew that it would not be approved of if anyone were to find them sleeping in the same bed together, no matter the complete lack of activity that would come of it. He simply knew that having her to cuddle into would set his mind far more at ease.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 22, 2007 23:49:35 GMT -5
D'rorah watched as Dylan's eyes shut. She noted that he didn't meet her gaze when they reopened. She wondered if perhaps he had picked up on her slip about pleasant dreams... perhaps he knew and didn't appreciate the fact that she had been in his mind without his permission. He kept his eyes averted even as he remarked that he wasn't particularly hungry. Had she eaten after her own attack? Had anything normal happened in her life during the following days? Perhaps not. Well, she certainly wouldn't deny him the right to whatever strange and tangled emotions he would almost certainly be feeling at this point. Her plan was to support him, and that didn't include very much nagging... perhaps a bit, but not too much.
He seemed to settle down a bit more though, as though preparing himself to sleep as he agreed with her statement that he wished to sleep. "Well then, sleep. I will be here again when you wake." She smiled softly on the off chance that he might look up. Her hand moved once again to his cheek, stroking it softly before her fingertips came to rest discreetly at his temple. She eased in very carefully, making sure to pay particular attention so she would not be detected as he was obviously still awake. "Sleep," she added, her voice particularly soft and soothing.
She would be ready when he fell asleep to move in to protect his mind from the newly-found demons which had nested there. She was somewhat awake again after having a small break... and she figured she would sleep again once he was a bit better. Certainly, she could hold out; she would hold out for his sake.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Nov 23, 2007 1:14:37 GMT -5
Contented with her comment, he continued attempting to force his mind to shut down. He had a habit of having an incredibly tired body and a too active mind when it came to trying to sleep; something which continued even now. While his body was quite exhausted from only the mere exertions of his brief period of activity, his mind continued to run over the events of the past few days. It never got him anywhere, but his thoughts seemed to be unable to reside on anything else. Feeling the soft touch of her hand on his cheek, he smiled inwardly, the movement giving him a slight sense of contentment and putting his mind somewhat at ease. As much as it probably could be at this point, anyway.
The effect was rather ruined, however, when he felt her hand move away from his cheek. Slightly discontented, he subconsciously shifted his head slightly; an action which, in itself, caused a small discomfort to arise at the back of his scalp and made him aware of her fingers upon his head. Slightly confused, he re-opened his eyes. “Dee?” he murmured confusedly, unsure as to exactly what she was doing. A nagging suspicion developing in the back of his mind, he pushed it back in an annoyed fashion. “Dee? What…?” he repeated, not even sure of what to say.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 23, 2007 1:30:04 GMT -5
D'rorah's fingers pulled back a bit as Dylan's head moved. She could hear the confusion in his voice and cursed herself internally. She should have put up the barrier without using touch to aid her as long as he was stil awake. That had been carelessness on her part, plain and simple. Her mind raced for a moment, trying to think of some way to explain away the wanderings of her fingertips. She wanted to smile in what would hopefully be a reassuring fashion, but found her face unwilling cooperate. She had become defensive, and as a result, her face was locked in its characteristically neutral expression.
"I only thought," she began, trying to explain. "I wanted to be certain you slept well..." she trailed off. "Normally, I would never do anything of the sort but... you were so tired... and your nightmares... I could feel even as they began that they would be rather horrible." I know that mine were, she thought, but didn't speak the last part aloud.
"I only wanted to help as much as I could... I did not look into your thoughts, I swear. I only put up a barrier against unpleasant thoughts so that you would be able to sleep. I respect the privacy of your thoughts... of the thoughts of everyone around me, in fact." Her voice had take on the slightest hint of a pleading tone, something no one else would recognize; but she was certain Dylan would hear it. She could only hope he wouldn't be too angry and that he would allow her to continue. "You slept so well while I held the barrier... I know how terrible the nightmares can be after the sort of thing you have just endured. I could not bear the thought of you losing sleep over it while you are still in such a crucial stage of recovery."
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Nov 23, 2007 2:30:48 GMT -5
Seeing the expression she often adorned during classes and when she was busy with something, he attempted to find her eyes instead. Completely lost for an idea as to what he might expect, he was therefore surprised at her tone of voice. The effect was subtle; so subtle that most would not have picked up on it, in fact. To Dylan, however, he could hear quite clearly the traces of defense, and of pleading. His eyes widening slightly as she continued to explain her actions, he remembered the thought he’d had previously, of trusting her every word. Slightly hurt that she would actually lie to him, he felt his temperamental new nature rising to the surface. Previously being a fairly laid-back individual, things appeared to have changed significantly after being attacked.
“You what?” he asked quietly. His voice usually maintained such a volume; this time, however, it was not due to him simply wishing to raise his voice, it was merely the fact that his anger was rising. The words he spoke were laced with a barely detectable resentment, one which he severely hoped she noticed. “You lied to me.” It was not a question, and he felt a desire for wrath building by the second.
Finally finding her eyes, however, his own lost their fury and softened considerably. He realised suddenly just how differently he would have reacted before being attacked, how perhaps his actions and thoughts would have been different if he’d already discovered who had perpetrated such a crime against his body. Feeling ashamed of himself, he lowered his eyes away from hers, unable to retain her gaze. Of course, he understood exactly why she had done it; to ensure a peaceful sleep for once in a mind that was so in turmoil. Feeling a lot of emotions that he didn’t fully comprehend threatening to overwhelm him, he quickly brought his hands to his head. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” Apparently, he wasn’t even sure of what to say anymore.
After a few moments of pause, which were evidently greatly needed, he felt both exhaustion and feelings which he wished to cringe away from still coursing throughout his body, relentless. “It’s okay, Dee, don’t apologise,” he muttered quietly, his voice quite back to normal but bearing a completely apologetic tone. And while he realised just how much of a favour she had done him, he felt slightly upset about the fact that it meant she had to lose sleep that she quite obviously needed. Feeling as if it was useless to try and deceive the presence of nightmares from his mind, he felt another brief flaring of anger. Suppressing it quickly, he told himself that D’rorah had acted with the best of intentions, and indeed had not really done anything terrible. He regretted the fact that she had felt the need to lie to his face, but he also understood it. Even now he was reluctant to allow her to continue blocking his mind, when she herself appeared exhausted. Not knowing what to do and the debate creating a large headache to manifest within him, his hands found his head once more.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 23, 2007 13:04:50 GMT -5
She could hear the resentment in his voice, the anger. Of course, she likely would have felt much the same had someone invaded the sanctity of her thoughts. And she wasn’t entirely certain he understood that she had felt the nightmares even while she hadn’t been touching his mind… they had been so strong that she could feel them anyway. Her heart broke at hearing the tones of his voice; she knew she shouldn’t have lied, but she really had intended to tell him when he felt better.
“I do apologize… I should have asked first. Only, I felt the emotions after you had begun to fall asleep and I did not wish to disturb you.” She could feel a lump steadily rising in her throat even as she was scoffing at herself internally. D’rorah Philosophy—practically pleading for forgiveness. Have you become so weak you cannot stand by your own decisions? Now you apologize for exercising your judgment?
The rational part of her was scolding her for feeling the need to defend her actions. She was so accustomed to doing what she thought was best and not particularly caring what anyone else thought of it, as long as the decision was logical and the other person did not have a solid argument against it. Now however, at least in Dylan’s case, she truly cared what he thought of her decisions and she didn’t want to hurt him or make him angry.
So few understood what it was truly like to be a telepath, how difficult it was to put up barriers and still feel the thoughts and emotions of others, to learn to tune it out. It almost felt inhuman sometimes. Though his tone was apologetic, he hid his eyes as though he couldn’t bear to look upon her anymore.
“Please, I was sitting here… and I could not bear the thought that you were in pain, that you would have to live the nightmare over and over again, when I could do something about it.” And this, this was exactly why she had been trained to ignore the thoughts which practically invaded her mind… no one would think twice of using a hug to comfort a friend in need, but… unable to silence the thoughts racing in her mind, she stood and walked to the window. She had to get her own emotions under control before her mental barriers became completely ineffective. As Keaira’s exit on her way to China proved, a substantial dropping of those barriers could be dangerous, even fatal for a telepath… Keaira had planned carefully, making certain Dien and D’rorah were on hand to put up barriers for her as she began to lapse into unconsciousness, lest the thoughts of those surrounding her overwhelm her, causing delicate neurons to fry from the overload of bearing the thoughts of so many others.
She gazed out the window, onto the grounds. She was slowly bringing herself back into a normal emotional state, reasoning out what had happened. She had been wrong to invade Dylan’s mind without his permission; but she would have done so again to spare him the pain that no one had been able to spare her from. If only she could find someone to similarly barrier her mind for even one night as she slept, she might appear more rested. The dark circles which had begun to grow under her eyes might diminish a bit; the streaks of silver hair which had begun to mingle with her blond tresses might retreat. Of course, such thoughts were completely and utterly useless. “If you wish to have your nightmares, I will not interfere again,” she said finally, just loud enough to be heard by Dylan. It would be increase his recovery time and would mean that an Elemental Master would be out of commission that much longer, but if it was what he wished, she would cede. She would not have given in, had it been anyone else she would have argued and made her point understood by force if necessary; but she could not do so with Dylan.
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