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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Oct 3, 2007 20:38:49 GMT -5
(ooc: we're coming from here www.ragedsyphers.proboards100.com/index.cgi?board=rboydorm&action=display&thread=1191378590&page=1#1191461157D'rorah smiled in return and quietly made her way to her dormitory. She spent several minutes gathering her texts, pulling a runic text along with the lexicon she had borrowed from Professor Choi as well as three rather large Hebrew texts... one from her father's library and two from Master Xiu in China. She looked at her bed for a moment, almost tempted to lie down, but knew she should press on to the end of the day if she ever wanted to finish. Arms laden with several rather large texts, she descended the stairs to the common room. Spotting Dylan at one of the tables by the fireplace, she made her way over and deposited the stack of texts carefully in the middle along with a few of her own notebooks. She took a seat and set to work straightaway, quill scratching against parchment almost as soon as she had finished turning pages to where she had left off from her work before. The scratching of her quill was occasionally interrupted as she searched for something in her notes which correlated or when she had to turn pages. Other than that, the noise was a constant light scratching. She made her way through quietly, without looking up. |
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Oct 3, 2007 21:01:46 GMT -5
Observing that his favourite leather armchair was vacant, he smiled and sauntered over, the fire warming him nicely as it crackled and burned. The table before him was soon occupied by several large texts and a few smaller books. Watching D'rorah for a moment, he smiled contentedly and retrieved the German text from beside him, flipping right to the back of the book and beginning to work immediately.
Quickly finishing the large text, he placed it on the floor above the French one, and selected an ancient Hebrew text from the table. The faint scratching of quills was practically the only sound in the room, any other inhabitants remaining relatively quiet. Dylan found himself extremely grateful for this; having only just learnt Hebrew to an intermediate level, he required as much concentration as possible. Even with focusing all of his efforts on it, he'd not travelled far in an hour. Finding it was a lot more tedious when he had to continuously reference the Hebrew dictionaries and language books he'd borrowed from the library, he ploughed on, irrespective.
Gradually finding that his pace quickened through the text, his quill paused momentarily and was about to recommence writing when he heard a tap. Looking in the direction of the odd noise, he saw an owl at the window. Recognising it from the other day, he got up and opened the window, retrieving the letter. The small thing quickly escaping into the night, presumably for a good rest in the Owlery, he saw that it was addressed to himself. Unfurling it slightly, he made his way back over to the armchair and planted himself in it once more, his eyes flicking speedily through the letter and his expression growing steadily more negative.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Oct 3, 2007 21:11:32 GMT -5
D'rorah had been working steadily away through the runic text, consulting the lexicon often while being careful of the magic embedded in the text. Professor Choi had warned her about it when she had loaned her the lexicon... and she was rather certain that she would not be able to retain her text again, should Janet decide that it was a danger to her or the other students.
She had been working quietly with Dylan for some time when a tapping sounded at the window. Her own eyes followed Dylan's eyes to the source of the noise to see a small owl. She watched him as he read it. Whatever it was, it was clearly not good news. She set her quill down and rose from her chair. "Dylan, is everything alright?" she asked quietly, watching him with concerned eyes. She glanced around the common room. The other students had apparently left for evening meal, so they were the only two there at the moment. "Of course, you do not have to tell me," she added hastily, not wanting to pry into his personal affairs.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Oct 3, 2007 21:36:35 GMT -5
Only faintly hearing D'rorah's voice, he looked up at her with an imperceptible expression on his face. Meeting her eyes, he held them for a moment. Brushing aside her last comment, he opened his mouth to speak, his eyes falling as he did so. "My... Aiden died," he said simply. As he spoke the words, he found it extremely difficult to grasp. Many people, while accepting that grief was inevitable, would think he was overreacting to the death of someone he'd barely seen over the last four years. Knowing that D'rorah would have no comprehension about who he was speaking of, he elaborated in a small voice. "The blacksmith..." he said, hoping he would not have to particularise on who he was. He had told her previously of his apprenticeship there after the death of his father and did not particularly relish the idea of going over it again.
Looking back up to D'rorah once more and not quite meeting her eyes, he continued quietly. "The night before last... he was murdered," he said, wondering who would ever hurt the nice man. As far as Dylan had been concerned, everyone had loved the blacksmith and his wife.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Oct 3, 2007 21:51:05 GMT -5
D'rorah was having trouble placing the name until Dylan elaborated, stating that he was the blacksmith. She remembered that Dylan had apprenticed to the man, though he had certainly not gotten along with his son. Coming around the table to his armchair, she knelt on the floor beside him. "My sincerest condolences," she offered quietly, seeing that he was obviously upset.
At hearing that he had been murdred, D'rorah's gaze saddened. Losing a loved one due to violent, senseless death was certainly a subject to which she was no stranger. She leaned up and hugged him close. She knew better than to press for details at the moment. Those would come as they came. She knew Dylan well enough to know that he would reveal the information to her soon enough, without her pushing. At the moment, she was more concerned for him anyway. "If you need time away from school, I will help make the arrangments," she offered quietly. Immediately in her mind she wondered if the events could have any relation to the Shadow Wars... but that seemed unlikely considering that Dylan had only recently been discovered as the Elemental Master of Earth... besides, why would the Mage attack a muggle blacksmith? Answering her own question, she knew the Mage would make any attempt that might weaken their group. Her arms still around him, she laid a light kiss on his forehead.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Oct 4, 2007 1:23:20 GMT -5
His eyes were downcast, and had D'rorah been able to see them, she would have seen the sadness behind them. Who in the entire world would want to hurt such a lovely man? He wasn't a rich man; there was no money to gain. He had a decent reputation, but he never rubbed it in anyone's face. He was a talented, useful member of their society. And what was more, his mother had said that a local of the village was suspected. Dylan's home town was so small that everyone got along with everyone else, and everyone relied on everyone else. It seemed so utterly pointless. "Pointless..." he muttered, thinking out loud, his eyes still pained.
Feeling her arms around him, Dylan reciprocated the hug, savouring the close contact in such a time. She kissed him lightly and his head buried itself into her shoulder and he closed his eyes. It was as if it were an attempt to rid himself of the images that had begun forming in his mind; images of a faceless evil brutally attacking his foster father. While he had not been a biological relative persay, the man had served as a father-figure in his life ever since the death of his paternal father. Being the closest thing that Dylan had had to a father for the past seven years, the pain cut like a knife through him.
Thinking about D'rorah's proposal briefly, he declined with a small "no." He would still attend classes; he often found that the regular continuation of days helped with grief and any other stressful or saddening occurrence. It often helped to instill a sense of 'moving on'. "The funeral's on the weekend," he said quietly, his voice sad. "I'll go home then," he said, not having to even make the decision.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Oct 4, 2007 1:41:58 GMT -5
The pain in Dylan's eyes was nearly heartbreaking for her and D'rorah held him even closer for it, wishing there were something she could do to take some of his pain away. When he declined her offer, she did not push. "Whatever you would like," she replied softly. She was quite glad at the moment that the common room was uncharacteristically quiet... she could only imagine how difficult it would be to receive news of this nature amidst a roomful of screaming younger students.
"If you change your mind," she offered gently, "I will see to all of the arrangements." She was debating at the moment whether it would be best to offer to accompany him over the weekend as a show of support or whether she should simply allow him whatever grief he might need.
The books and texts were momentarily pushed to the back of her mind as she focused her attention on Dylan. She wasn't sure what to offer next, what words might be helpful, whether she should tell him they could stop for the night or if such a statement was even necessary. In the end, she settled for holding him quietly as his emotions unfolded.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Oct 4, 2007 3:24:05 GMT -5
Through his strongly depressive emotions, Dylan managed to be appreciative of her comforting words and actions. He was extremely glad that he had her with him right now. His jaw clenched slightly and his eyes were unfocused. He nodded absent-mindedly at her comment. The texts lay before him, but didn't even register within his mind as it wandered through a string of suspects, revenge on his mind. The pain of the incident, however, remained utterly paramount to the little fire of fury within him.
"Dee..." he said, his voice slightly croaky. Pausing for a moment, he struggled to string the words together. They seemed to need to be plucked from the back of his mind, one by one, in an attempt to be coherent. Climbing slowly out of the chair, he turned and gave her a solid embrace, his arms wrapping around her. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes. He knew how exhausted she was; he could see it. Somehow, D'rorah's wellbeing still seemed to occupy a small part of his mind. "I'm okay... I... Let's get some sleep," he said quietly, knowing she wouldn't believe his weak attempt at reassurance for a second. Quite frankly, he had no idea what else to say.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Oct 4, 2007 7:19:52 GMT -5
D'rorah nodded and gathered up their books and texts into a satchel before she took Dylan's hand. It seemed she was spending at lot of time in the boy's dormitory lately, but she knew her own intentions were nothing wholly inappropriate for school. Leading the way up the stairs and to his dormitory, she kissed his cheek softly, bidding him to remain still for just a moment.
Using her wand, she summoned a pair of comfortable pajamas and with a second flourish had him changed into them. Then, she carefully turned back the duvet on his bed and grasped his hand yet again. She led him into the bed and curled up beside him quietly, stroking his hair in a comforting manner.
"I cannot remain long," she whispered. "But if you need anything at all, I will not be far away." Quietly, she began singing in Yiddish, a song she could not remember the origin of, but that seemed appropriate nonetheless, waiting for him to sleep. She was certain the others were currently in the Great Hall for Breakfast and that his dormmate, Alessandro, would not say anything against her if he happened to come upon the dorm before she had left.
Di zun vet arunter geyn untern barg,
vet kumen a shtile di libe tsugeyn.
Tsum umet vos zitst oyf a goldenem shteyn.
Un veynt far zikh eynem aleyn.
Di zun vet arunter geyn untern barg
vet kumen di goldene pave tsu flien,
un mitnemen vet zi undz ale ahin,
ahin vu di benkshaft ve tsien.
Di zun vet arunter geyn untern barg,
vet kumen di nakht un vet zingen lyu lyu
ariber di oygn vos faln shoyn tsu,
tsu shlofn in eybiker ru.
She would wait until he had fallen asleep, she decided, and then would make her way to her own dormitory for a bit of sleep. As she gazed at him during her song, she couldn't help but feel pain at the thought that someone would cause him so much hurt... pain and anger, but she pushed both aside for now, hoping he would find her a comfort at the moment.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Oct 4, 2007 16:50:39 GMT -5
It would have come as a great surprise to him when D'rorah led him up to his own dormitory, fully intending to join him, had his emotions not been so focused on but one at the moment. Surprise, appreciation and anger were all found in only trace amounts through his system, his mind and body dominated by grief and the pain of loss.
Not even realising that his clothes had changed quite considerably, Dylan allowed himself to be led to his own bed by the woman with her hand in his. Somehow managing to function, he slipped under the warm duvet and felt D'rorah join him. Again, the surprise would have been much more pronounced had the situation been different. A small nod was produced in response to her comments and deep down he felt glad that he would have D'rorah to turn to. Had she not been such a major factor in his life now, he would have no-one neaby whatsoever.
As a soft song hit his ears and seemed to calm his emotions, somehow, he wrapped his arms around the wonderful woman lying beside him and rested his head on her shoulder. His legs colliding with hers gently, he made a small, sleepy sound and closed his eyes. Images of his foster father ran over the back of his eyes. On Dylan's eighth birthday when he'd done the best job possible, holding a small gathering for the small boy in an attempt to sway his mind from thoughts of his paternal father. When Dylan was ten and he'd been taught patiently how to forge a sword, grasping the process quickly with his fast mind. His gentle smile and big, weather-worn hands. His caring and happy manner of living, his generosity and open personality. Whoever had dared to hurt that man was in serious trouble.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Oct 4, 2007 20:45:25 GMT -5
D'rorah kissed Dylan's forehead as the song finished and continued gently stroking his hair, waiting for him to fall asleep. He had not said much about Aiden, but she could tell by his reaction that the man had meant quite a lot to him. She tried to make her presence calming, willing him to drift off to sleep. She found herself angry on Dylan's behalf... the murder of a loved one was a terrible thing. Whoever had done this, had caused him such pain, she wanted to find that person and cause him to feel the pain that Dylan was feeling now. She pushed aside that anger though, focusing on making her thoughts calming, on infusing a calming feeling into the room so that he might sleep.
Her own eyes were beginning to slowly slide close as she hummed. She reopened them at intervals, promising herself that she was only closing them for a moment. She leaned forward and kissed Dylan's forehead again, seeing that he appeared to be asleep. Carefully, she began slowly disentangling herself from his arms, not wanting to wake him. She knew she could not allow herself to fall asleep here... the last thing she needed was to be expelled from Hogwart's, away from the other Lightfighters... away from Dylan.
Checking one last time to see that his breathing remained slow and steady, she planted a soft kiss on his forehead and made her way to the window. She quietly opened it and climbed through, whispering a soft spell to secure the window when she was on the other side, she transfigured to her animagus form and flitted round to the window of her own dormitory, intent on continuing her research.
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