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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 9, 2008 15:02:05 GMT -5
D'rorah made her way quietly up the stairs of the tower. Every step was silent, but her feet felt as though they were made of lead. At one point she paused, thinking that perhaps she would prefer to just go to bed. She couldn't remember the last time she had visited her bedroom, in fact. The little sleep she had gotten over the past two weeks had been had sitting in her chair in the alcove of the restricted section of the library. It seemed even the librarian didn't think to check the space for students before locking up for the night... or perhaps she'd simply given up the futile exercise of trying to chase D'rorah from the library when it closed every day. She was a considerate library patron--never bothering anyone and always returning used books to their precise places on the shelves when she was finished with them.
After the evening Alessandro had apparently died, however, she felt a need to extract herself from her books, at least for a few hours. She wasn't certain where Dylan was. Likely, wherever he was, he would be at least somewhat put out that she had sequestered herself in the library for such a stretch of time. When she thought about it, it seemed a bit odd that he hadn't at least come by to see her... but then he had his own research to attend to and homework and such to take care of. All of the turmoil in his own life had put him further behind in his studies than she.
She missed his presence... he completed and complemented her in so many ways. But she needed quiet right now. And, if she hadn't seen him lately, perhaps that indicated that he needed some time to himself as well. She would have to make a mental note to check in on him tomorrow, to see if perhaps they could arrange a weekend to get away. If not, at least she could make herself go to the Great Hall for breakfast in the morning so they might have breakfast together. Certainly, the House Elves would be happy not to have to supply her with sandwiches in the library for one day.
She stepped onto the landing of the top room in the tower, already feeling a slight draft in the room from the windows. Knowing how very popular the tower room was, she was more interested in the roof. Up there, it was far less likely anyone would intrude upon her solitude. Though the windows had alarms to keep students from leaving the castle at night, she had found a window higher up that had been overlooked somehow. Most likely, it was left for messenger owls to come and go, as it was far too high for a student to reach with a broom... and it was too small for someone on a broom to fly through. It was just big enough for a person to squeeze through. Of course, she had no intention of going through as a person tonight. Checking to make sure no one else was in the room, she transfigured into her animagus form and flitted through the window as a sparrow. Once she was on the roof, she perched herself carefully before changing back to her human form. It was a precarious position, sitting out on the steeply slanted roof. There was no guard rail... nothing to stop someone who fell... at least, not until the reached the ground below. Fortunately, unlike most students, she could fly when the need arose, so she didn't worry about the height.
She hugged her knees to her chest as she looked up at a sky, partially scudded with wisps of cloud. A bright spring harvest moon shone in the air above her, providing a fair amount of illumination. The grounds were so beautiful in this soft light... as though they were lit by an ethereal glow. The stars shone through the canopy of night like tiny pinpricks. D'rorah sat regarding the scene around her with her arms wrapped around her knees. She felt alone... which was odd considering that she pretty much always was alone these days... but something about tonight made her wish someone else was there. Too bad she couldn't find Dylan to ask him to join her. Suddenly resigned to solitude instead of embracing it as she had expected, she exhaled deeply and rested her chin on her knees.
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Kerridon Paradox
Ravenclaw
[blue]6th Year Ravenclaw[/blue]
One loss locked me in the heart of misery... but you had the key to set me free
Posts: 317
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Post by Kerridon Paradox on Nov 10, 2008 13:47:37 GMT -5
((If you think she’d have noticed him and reacted to him sooner let me know and I’ll edit))
Kerridon was not very happy with his dorm-mates at this moment in time. He was trying to read a book he had picked up from the library just that evening, before it had closed and he’d been ordered out of the place by the librarian. Not wanting to be seen reading such material in plain view of the rest of his house, Kerridon had an early dinner and retreated up to his dormitory... only to find that it was already occupied by two of his housemates. They had stayed there, talking for hours on end as he read a book on a more mundane subject than that which he would wish to. Then, when he was sure they were both asleep, he had retrieved the other book and gotten out his ever-expanding private notes. The first chapter had gone fine... then one of the boys in the room had shifted and started snoring. Shortly after that, the other had began to toss and turn. When he started to murmur things in his sleep, Kerridon had had enough.
He didn’t want either of them to wake up and find him still awake, reading this book and taking notes. Although the majority of it was written in Hebrew which he doubted either of the two Ravenclaws would be able to understand, his notes were in English. Of course they had some Hebrew in, in case he wanted to refer back to a specific translation, but anyone just glancing at it could work out that the subject matter was not exactly one accepted as a study topic for a 17-year-old at Hogwarts. It was his previous research, which had had the primary aim of developing a series of spells for acquiring information from people when asking nicely failed. It was a mixture of torture and breaking mental barriers, and he had successfully created the spell, although with a few side-effects that hadn’t been fixed... but the problem was, Dark Phoenix would have had access to all of his work when he had been in her presence due to her highly developed mental abilities. He himself had explained the theory behind it to her. So now he was faced with the trouble of having his own weapon being used against him, and hence attempting to develop a defensive spell. The original spell was so complex that only someone who had access to a fair few pages of notes would understand how exactly it worked and thus how to cast it. Because of this, he had never bothered with a defensive spell against it. His notes were protected by a huge amount of curses when he wasn’t working on them so that it would be near impossible for another person to get their hands on them without him knowing.
Quietly he took a small bag from beneath his bed and put quill, ink, spare parchment, book and notes in it, making sure to restore a few of the protection spells on his notes. Slinging it loosely over his shoulder, Kerridon made his way out of the dormitory and upwards. He had found in the past that outside air helped him work, and since he couldn’t actually go outside due to curfew and alarmed exits, the only place where he would be truly out in the open was the astronomy tower.
It did not take long to make his way up to the top floor of the castle. The one prefect he did see he easily evaded, and soon made his way up the stairway. Up here it was so much more peaceful... the breeze was chilly yet refreshing, and there was much less danger of being interrupted. Sitting with his back against one of the stone pillars, he reopened the book to the chapter he had been reading and was quickly scratching away on the parchment. The book was one he had originally used for getting the necessary knowledge for creating the spell and now he was re-combing it for anything he might have missed the first time. There were some nasty diagrams and descriptions, but he was so used to seeing that kind of thing that it really didn’t bother him.
It was five minutes before he heard anything that alerted him to someone else’s presence in the vicinity. A heavy sigh sounded from above and Kerridon was on his feet. From above? What – was someone on the roof? With a quick wave of his hand and a murmured word, the curses were restored to the notes. Anyone who touched them would regret it. Moving silently, Kerridon made his way to the edge of the tower. If he looked down, there was a very long drop. But the excellent thing about this tower was that the stone bricks were particularly rough – easy for handholds. And whoever was up on the roof had most likely climbed to get up there to start with, so it couldn’t be impossible. The first few metres were relatively easy to scale; in his younger years Kerridon had been an avid tree-climber when he wanted somewhere quiet to be alone. There were plenty of trees on both the Paradox and Taylor estates and often he had sought out the tallest and most difficult as a challenge. Taisy had always been able to find him if she wanted to – one of his feet slipped and suddenly Kerridon had to hold his weight on his arms as he regained a foothold. Luckily it hadn’t made too much noise that might alert whoever was on top that he was there, but he made a mental note to not allow his mind to wander too much.
A few minutes later and he was there, reaching both hands up to pull himself onto the slanted roof. Taking a moment to regain his breath, he crept up the tiles until he reached the crest and could see over at the figure sitting on the other side of the roof. In the dark he couldn’t make out who it was but raised a hand in readiness. If they did happen to turn around and see him without a wand, whoever it was would be likely to underestimate how well he could fight back. But also, he had his hand up just in case he startled them so much as to make them slip. “What are you doing up here?” he murmured in a low voice, tensed up ready for whatever reaction they would give. The figure did look familiar, but the lack of light meant he couldn’t quite make out who it was. All he knew was that it must be an older student – that much was obvious from the height.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 11, 2008 8:32:48 GMT -5
Not expecting anyone to climb up the wall of the tower in order to get to the roof, D'rorah hadn't been keeping watch quite as vigilantly as she normally might have. That, coupled with the way the March winds swept sounds away from her, was enough to ensure she didn't hear Kerridon's ascent up the tower wall. She didn't feel the slight vibration as the soles of his shoes landed on the edge of the roof, because the slatted tiles practically hummed in the wind themselves. And so, he managed to catch her completely off-guard.
"What are you doing up here?"
At the sound of the voice, D'rorah was quickly on her feet and turning to face the newcomer. The maneuver would have been a complete success, had not one of the wooden shingles beneath her left foot chosen that exact moment to give way. Losing her balance, she had time for only a brief yelp before toppling over the edge of the steep incline. Reacting instinctively, she transfigured and caught an updraft, bringing herself back up with no effort. As soon as she cleared the edge of the conical roof, she felt supremely foolish... the intruder had only been Kerridon. She landed carefully on the roof next to where he stood, transfiguring back so that her feet touched down with hardly a sound.
"[blue]I might ask you the same question, Mister Paradox. What exactly are you doing here? Or do you simply make sport of startling women who are precariously perched on roofs?[/blue]" She summoned the energy for a wry smile to indicate that she was joking, but didn't put forth the effort to maintain it for very long. "[blue]I was attempting to find an unknown place for a bit of quiet reflection, but seem to have fallen short of that goal.[/blue]" Resuming her recently vacated seat, she gestured for Kerridon to take the spot beside her. Her eyes looked out into the heavens, as though she might find some key to understanding everything that had happened of late written among the fickle stars. "[blue]I do not know whether you have heard of Mister Darko's apparent recent passing[/blue]" she remarked quietly. "[blue]I have been nursing my own hope that somehow my eyes have deceived me.[/blue]" She looked over at Kerridon, feeling tonight as though she were closer to 70 than 17. Certainly, she could look the part, considering how grey streaks were still heavily present in her hair, and considering the tiredness in her eyes that never seemed to go away these days. "[blue]I cannot help but see a failure in my leadership of late... though I cannot discern exactly what it has been...[/blue]" her words trailed off as she thought again on the matter, something she had obviously been doing for quite some time now. "[blue]And I worry that I have not seen Mister Cooper of late... I have a notion he is rather put out with my recent sequestration in the library.[/blue]"
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Kerridon Paradox
Ravenclaw
[blue]6th Year Ravenclaw[/blue]
One loss locked me in the heart of misery... but you had the key to set me free
Posts: 317
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Post by Kerridon Paradox on Nov 12, 2008 15:35:35 GMT -5
As the figure spun to face him Kerridon immediately recognised D’rorah... except a moment later, he saw one of the shingles give way under her foot. Eyes widening, he was unprepared for her to slide quite so quickly from where she had been sitting and before he could summon a spell to his lips she had gone straight off the side of the roof. Mere seconds later he had slid down what space remained of the roof to open air and had to use most of his strength to take hold of the edge of the roof slates to stop himself going head first off the side and following D’rorah. Clenching tightly with his left hand, he let go with the right and looked down, ready to perform a spell to slow her movement... and realised he couldn’t see a falling body. In fact, the only moving thing he could see was a blue and grey sparrow that was flying back up from the direction where D’rorah had just fallen. Putting two and two together fairly quickly, he pushed himself away from the edge and got back to his feet, taking a few steps back so she could land safely.
The sparrow had apparently caught an updraft and flew easily alongside where he was standing before transforming back into the Ravenclaw he knew. Well that was a revelation... she was an animagus. He wondered for a moment whether she was registered or illegal, but quickly dismissed it. He was not fighting against her anymore; did not need to discover information that could be used against her. In some ways it was a relief, but that didn’t satiate his curiosity.
A wry smile appeared for a moment on his face to mirror her own. He understood her dry humour, whereas various other “humorous” antics and jokes out there were far too crude and blatant to procure even a hint of a smile from him. ”My dorm-mates were making noise, so I chose to make my way up to open air to read. I heard noise above and wondered who would have climbed onto the roof – but flown, is apparently the method you took to get up here.” He paused for a moment before asking, just to satisfy his curiosity. ”How long have you been an animagus?” In truth he had considered it himself at one point, but had eventually decided that his other research would benefit Dark Phoenix more. Perhaps it was something to consider now...
She gestured for him to sit and he did so, making sure to keep alert for the sound of anyone below. Although his work was protected, it was not hidden – and he would rather not deal with the consequences of someone setting off one of the curses set in place. “I am sorry... I had heard that he was missing, but not what truly happened. How?” he asked shortly, turning his head to face her and searching her eyes for... something. He wasn’t entirely sure what he set out to find, but certainly found an exhaustion there that he was sure hadn’t been there on previous meetings with her. He didn’t know how close she had been to Alessandro Darko, but he at least understood what it was like to lose someone important to you. Really there were only a handful of people on this earth that he could say he would emotionally regret their passing, if they were not already dead. One of them was the girl sitting next to him now – even while he had been serving Dark Phoenix, he had been reluctant to imagine her death. “Deceived you?” he questioned, curious as to what she might mean by that. D’rorah did not seem the type to nurse false hope if there was truly no chance of it.
She was apparently in a mood to voice her thoughts tonight, because shortly after she continued. Doubting herself... that also seemed unlike what he knew of the Ravenclaw prefect. Unless he was much mistaken, she had been badly shaken by the death of her ally... of his ally, too, he reminded himself. But he felt the need to reassure her. He surely didn’t know of any other lightfighter who might take over her position as leader if she fell or stepped down. “You convinced me that the side I had chosen was not the right one, even while I was trying to do the same to you,” he reminded her, tilting his head a little to the side as he watched her. “That does not seem like a failure in leadership to me. And I truly do not know who else I would prefer to lead,” he told her truthfully, adding as an afterthought, “although I suppose I do not know of the other lightfighters’ prowess’.”
As she mentioned not seeing Dylan, Kerridon recalled that he had not seen the younger boy either recently, although it was not as if he was particularly looking out for him. Still, he was observant enough, and would remember if he had passed the other Ravenclaw in a corridor. Remembering the tiredness he had seen in her eyes earlier, he pondered for a moment before continuing. “Excuse me for asking... but when was the last time you slept properly?” He was hardly one to be lecturing on the amount of sleep she was getting, considering he had been planning on reading and taking notes all night. But at least the night before he had gotten a decent amount.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 13, 2008 11:36:22 GMT -5
"[blue]I believe I was thirteen when my father first began teaching me the transformation technique... and nearly fourteen when I finally came to the point where I could perform it reliably on my own. That would be four years then...[/blue]" she trailed off, realizing that she had completely missed her own birthday back in February. But then, she'd never been good at remembering such things and the past several months hadn't exactly been ideal for any of the Lightfighters.
As Kerridon took a seat beside her and enquired as to what had happened to Alessandro, she shook her head slightly. The mystery of it all ate at her, nagging that something wasn't quite correct. "[blue]Apparently he fell from the Astronomy Tower... this tower,[/blue]" she corrected herself, "[blue]and burst into flames. Nothing but ashes remained to strike the ground.[/blue]" It made no sense to her. How could the Elemental Master of Fire die in a fiery blaze? But then, she did recall that Alessandro's parents had gone to rather great lengths to see that he had a deep-rooted fear of fire. She had thought that fear was well behind him... but what if it had lingered enough to cause him to panic or hesitate? "[blue]It just seems as though he, of all people, could not possibly suffer such an end. I have encountered nothing of the like in any of my reading...[/blue]"
As he moved on to her leadership, she shook her head slightly. "[blue]I thought was performing at least adequately. But apparently some of the others do not agree with that.[/blue]" Her face turned to stone as she recalled what Keaira and Zane had said to her that night. Keaira seemed to think that she was the only one who suffered any loss... that she was the only one who had seen battle. The thought of it irritated D'rorah. She had spent years training as a Shadow Warrior. She had been battling Shadows long before any of the others had known what Shadows even were. She had fought without an Elemental Master even, having had to develop a mastery of her own emotions in order to keep herself from tumbling down into that dark abyss of corruption. In fact, she was certain that that experience was the only thing that had enabled her to survive the loss of three Elemental Masters and torture by the Shadow Mage. None of the others had any idea what it was like to be singled out by Dark Phoenix... to be the one who held the group together... even when they all bickered and bit at each other like children. Dylan, intent on hating Zane. Zane intent on hating and feeling superior to Dylan, Alessandro, Caitlin, and Susan... none of them could see her vision--that they all had to come together to have any hope of victory. "[blue]It is frustrating and infuriating to attempt to bind together a group of individuals who are all convinced that each is better than the other.[/blue]" D'rorah shook her head, forcing herself to quiet. She couldn't begin complaining about the other Lightfighters now. She knew that each person's strengths and weaknesses would be necessary to win against Dark Phoenix. "[blue]I have read the history. And in each generation that has defeated one of Yang's Mages, they have had to overcome many personal, physical, and imposed obstacles in order to band together. That is the strength in unity that Yin saw that Yang refused to. It is that strength that was won previous wars each time. And those Lightfighters were able to enjoy hundreds of years of peace afterwards in their realms...[/blue]" She breathed deeply, as she could see once again in her mind the reward for their victory. She wondered if she could ever again live as a normal person, if she would be able to enjoy that life. A brief smile came to her lips as she thought of Dylan... they would have so many years together. She knew that whatever was bothering him now, they would work through. They always managed to see the other's point of view. And certainly, they had both been through worse than her locking herself away in the library. She only wished he would come out of his own hiding and speak to her about it.
Kerridon's question about sleep caught her slightly off-guard. For someone who was typically ready with an answer, she wasn't certain of an answer this time. "[blue]Properly? Are there improper ways of sleeping, Mister Paradox?[/blue]" she asked, thinking over the past few weeks and realizing that all of her recent sleep had been gotten while sitting at her table in the restricted section of the library. And she hadn't allowed herself much... just enough to keep going. "[blue]Actually, I suppose there are...[/blue]" she trailed off with a smirk. "[blue]What were you reading hearing me on the roof threw your entire night into turmoil?[/blue]" she asked, shifting the focus away from her own lack of sleep. There would be years to sleep in later... for now, there was too much to be done.
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Kerridon Paradox
Ravenclaw
[blue]6th Year Ravenclaw[/blue]
One loss locked me in the heart of misery... but you had the key to set me free
Posts: 317
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Post by Kerridon Paradox on Nov 15, 2008 20:42:27 GMT -5
Kerridon nodded in response to D’rorah’s answer, thinking back to the little amount of research he had done on the matter before leaving it. It was unlike him to just leave a research topic unfinished, but he wasn’t really sure what had happened with that one... If he remembered correctly (and he usually did) then he had also been about thirteen at the time he’d started reading about the subject of animagus. Then... ah, that would be it. It was around that time that he’d killed that muggle to prove to his father he could. That had distracted him plenty, and he had started taking up new types of research topics just after, in an attempt to impress his father further.
But it was always something he could pick up again now. His original notes would likely still be at Paradox Hall. Assuming his room had been left untouched – and the house elves had always had firm instructions to do nothing more than keep the dust from settling in there – the filing system he’d had for as long as he could remember should make them fairly easy to find again. ”How difficult is it to learn?” he asked curiously.
Again he listened intently as she spoke, ignoring the wind as it whipped around the both of them. Without the walls around them as they were for everyone else at Hogwarts right now, there was no protection from the night breeze. “He was killed... by his own element?” Kerridon checked, frowning slightly. That surely didn’t sound right... ”Is that even possible? I have never heard of such a thing either,” he agreed. It was a nasty blow to the lightfighters to lose one of their Elemental Masters. And technically, he was a lightfighter now... but when he heard it in his head, it didn’t sound right. It was just so... alien, thinking of himself as one of the good guys... one of the stupid, misinformed guys as he had always thought before. But apparently that had been him all along.
His frown turned to a barely disguised scowl when she mentioned that some of the others thought D’rorah was not doing well as a leader. Of all the lightfighters he knew of, he did not believe for a second that any of them could do a better job than the eldest Ravenclaw. “ ‘Some of the others’,” he parroted her again. “Who? And why?” He did not think they had been against her leadership before, so why the change now? He guessed it must have been as a result of the Fire Master’s death. That was sure to set them off kilter. “Perhaps they are just having trouble adjusting to Mister Darko’s apparent death?” he suggested. When she continued on about the history he did not say anything, just let her talk. By the time she was finished, he was relieved to see a hint of a smile on her face. At least she had not completely lost faith, which was reassuring because her amount of trust in winning was partly what had convinced him in the first place.
“Yes,” he smirked with her, continuing when she paused. “Let’s see... I believe improper sleep might consist of sleeping in a library rather than a dormitory, and say, only for a couple of hours rather than the eight we’re all supposed to have every night,” he mused aloud, eyeing her to see her reaction. He was fairly sure his description had encapsulated the majority of her sleep patterns in recent days, but was just not sure how far back this went. “I... created a spell, before, that Dark Phoenix knows about and how to use. I was attempting to create a defensive spell against it. So I was reading a Hebrew book I originally used to help create the spell, refreshing my memory. And I do not believe you answered my question about sleep, Miss Philosophy,” he finished, attempting to change the subject for himself this time.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 16, 2008 8:41:05 GMT -5
"Perhaps they are just having trouble adjusting to Mister Darko's apparent death?"
"[blue]Perhaps,[/blue]" she agreed, realizing that the questioning had come directly after Alessandro's death at a time when they were all vulnerable. "[blue]In truth, they may have a point. As a classmate once pointed out to me, I have always been more of a... loner than a leader,[/blue]" she smirked at the colloquialism. She didn't answer the question about who had brought up the issue or why the disagreement had occurred. There was no point in sowing any more division within their group than there already was. What would be would be... as long as the end result was victory for the Lightighters, she didn't really care who took up the mantle of leadership. As always, her skills and knowledge would be readily available to anyone who wished to take advantage of them. "[blue]And, certainly, the things I have endured recently have done much to change the person I am.[/blue]" She arched an eyebrow at herself. "[blue]For one, I recall not being cold all the time...[/blue]" her words trailed off as irritation tugged the corners of her lips downward briefly. As though on cue, she shivered again... her constant brushes with corruption had left a coldness inside her that never really seemed to dissipate. Futiley, she wrapped her arms more tightly around her knees in an attempt to warm herself.
At his remark about sleeping, she arched an eyebrow and peered at him from the corner of her eye before turning her head to regard him more fully. A smirk pulled up the left side of her lips slightly. "[blue]One might imagine you had been spying upon me, Mister Paradox. Or am I simply so predictable?[/blue]"
As he briefly mentioned his Hebrew spell before moving on back to the topic of her sleep, she shook her head, the smirk reappearing. "[blue]It would appear, Mister Paradox, that neither of us wishes to discuss the particular matters at hand. You, your research for the evening; and I, my deplorable sleeping habits.[/blue]" She paused, shifting slightly so that she was turned slightly toward him. "[blue]Though, of the two matters, I find the issue of developing defensive spells far more intriguing than the fact that I have not slept, properly, by your definition for the past several weeks. In fact, if the standard is to have eight hours of sleep...[/blue]" she pursed her lips as she thought, "[blue]...I would say I have not met your requirements in several months.[/blue]"
It was the one area her parents had had to chastise her repeatedly on throughout her childhood, an unwillingness to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Isaac Philosophy had set a bad example himself, often spending days closeted within his own study when he was working on something particularly important... or even particularly intriguing. D'rorah, following right along in his footsteps, had developed her own strong propensities for workaholism. Her mother, Shoshanna, had often gone to bed and woken to find husband and daughter both working away through the wee hours of the morning, earning them both a bit of chastisement. Though, Shoshanna never fought too hard, knowing it would have been a lost cause. Those had been happier days indeed... it was a quiet happiness. The Philosophy's had never tended toward ostentatiousness or wild displays of emotion, but it had been a full happiness. Thinking of sleep reminded her of her father, which reminded her of her mother, which reminded her far too sharply of the night they had died. Unwilling to allow her thoughts to linger there for long, D'rorah turned her attention back to Kerridon. "[blue]So, what would you care to tell me about that Hebrew spell?[/blue]"
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Kerridon Paradox
Ravenclaw
[blue]6th Year Ravenclaw[/blue]
One loss locked me in the heart of misery... but you had the key to set me free
Posts: 317
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Post by Kerridon Paradox on Nov 17, 2008 14:21:22 GMT -5
Kerridon was well aware that D’rorah had not answered all of his questions, but this time let it go. Perhaps it was wise to not tell him who was going against her; factionalism always seemed to cause trouble, from what he had read about the matter in general in history books. The European royal courts had suffered especially badly from it. And since the whole point of splitting the light was to show the power of people working together, sowing more seeds of dislike was likely not the greatest idea if they were to defeat Dark Phoenix. That idea still seemed quite impossible to him, but the more he read, the more hopeful he became. Strange, that... hopeful. He hadn’t allowed himself to entertain any serious hope for a long while.
And obviously he was not the only one changing. The Ravenclaw prefect was saying how her experiences had changed to, mentioning the constant cold. That curious feeling of concern scratched at him again as she tightened the grip around herself, apparently in an attempt to warm herself somewhat. ”Would another jacket help prevent the cold? Or is it more internal that cannot be cured by outside layers?” he inquired. The jacket he was wearing now was warming, but she looked colder than he felt. To be honest the cold didn’t bother him an awful lot, because he was so used to it from the Shadow Realm, but putting on a jacket was just habit. Something else that had changed about him though... It was something he’d noticed since she had broken down that one particular mental barrier. He was seeing how others felt and actually had a desire to do something about it, rather than be living so passively when it came to other people’s needs and wants.
Seeing her smirk, he let a full smirk of his own appear on his face, not hidden as it usually was so that only the corners of his mouth would show his amusement. “Simply predictable. I would not dare to spy on one who would discover me so rapidly and then firmly disparage me from ever doing such a thing again. And perhaps I am not changing the subject, simply concerned for your welfare,” he mused allowed, the smirk still pulling on one corner of his lips. ”Which accordingly is in need of concern being placed on it. If you work yourself to exhaustion you will have no energy left to fight this war, let alone lead it,” he warned, the humour all gone from his face. He was well aware of just how hypocritical he was being by saying these things since he himself had not had a “proper” night of sleep by his own definition in a while himself. In fact... that last time he had slept properly had been the night after his change in allegiance, when he was sure D’rorah had done something in his mind to prevent certain nightmares coming through to disturb him.
“The Hebrew spell... its aim is to retrieve information from someone’s mind who will not provide it willingly,” he admitted. The idea of it being used against him or his now allies made him uncomfortable, because he knew just how bad it would be. “It is a mixture of pain and mental assault... it could break through the barriers you created to protect certain thoughts and memories.” he explained briefly. If Dark Phoenix became suspicious of him for any reason she could use it against him and it would show her all she wanted to know about it. The beauty of the spell was that it sought out memories and thoughts with a certain mental signature on them that labelled them as secrets, or in need of protection. He wasn’t sure exactly why that signature occurred, but could only assume that the brain had that signature so that every time the memory or thought came to mind, you knew it was precious. Or... something like that. He mostly understood it in his head, but it was difficult to explain to outsiders. The book he had below was one written about aspects of the brain, and had a section on the theory of ‘signatures’ being attached to particular types of thoughts.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 19, 2008 12:15:06 GMT -5
D'rorah looked down at her clothing as Kerridon asked whether another jacket would help prevent the cold. "[blue]Alas, Mister Paradox, I fear no amount of external clothing will assuage this chill,[/blue]" she replied, a hint of resignation creeping into her voice. True to form, D'rorah was wearing her customary all-concealing formal garb with the addition of a woolen coat and a thick scarf. She never noticed much difference now, no matter what she wore... but it seemed foolish to eschew the practice of adding clothes in the hope of achieving warmth. At the very least, there was the possibility that people would notice and would begin asking annoying questions.
She nodded at his admonition that exhaustion would leave her with no energy to fight or lead the war. "[blue]It feels like a crime to sleep when there is so much still to be done,[/blue]" she replied. "[blue]I am accustomed to long days and short nights... and knowing that there is an end somewhere in sight makes the imperative of pushing through right now feel that much stronger.[/blue]" She stole a longer glance at Kerridon. It was an odd feeling to have someone actually voice concern for her in a manner that didn't sound selfish or condescending. Dylan tended to take a more silent role on the matter, having seemingly resigned himself to D'rorah's nearly self-destructive tendency to overwork. He would ask if she was alright... or at least, he had in the past. Lately, he had seemed more and more distant. Though, that was likely D'rorah's own doing. She had always pushed people away, and that trait had become more pronounced considering the danger that knowing her seemed to bring to others. Those found to associate with her openly seemed to fall quite keenly under Dark Phoenix's view and became her targets... a fact which was clearly evidenced by not only the deaths of her parents, but of her Elemental Masters as well.
She pulled her gaze away as Kerridon began talking about the spell for which he was working to develop a defense. Anything that allowed Dark Phoenix more facility in accessing the minds of their allies was something it would be of paramount importance to develop a defense for. She wondered if the spell had ever been used against her... she knew she had certainly been tortured enough that nearly anything could have been slipped into the mix. "[blue]If I can be of assistance in any way, please do not hesitate to ask,[/blue]" she offered. Even as she offered it, she was fairly certain that Kerridon would never make use of the offer. He struck her as a very solitary and independent individual... much like herself.
"[blue]How have your nights fared of late?[/blue]" she asked, certain Kerridon had suffered some mental backlash from the memories she had accessed while re-building his mental barriers. Any weakness within the group could be detrimental, and nightmarish dreams were a most unpleasant way to spend the night.
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Kerridon Paradox
Ravenclaw
[blue]6th Year Ravenclaw[/blue]
One loss locked me in the heart of misery... but you had the key to set me free
Posts: 317
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Post by Kerridon Paradox on Nov 21, 2008 19:31:11 GMT -5
Kerridon nodded when D’rorah said she did not think more clothing would do anything to help; she was experiencing it, she knew what it was like. Then he was reminded that trusting what he was told was what had got him into a mess previously. But still, he could hardly hand over the jacket after being specifically told that it wouldn’t help. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t have a lot of layers on anyway, judging by the woollen coat and scarf.
”Crime or not, I am sure you would get more work done in long run, and of better quality, if you were not just going through the motions of working. Who knows if you have missed something important due to exhaustion.” Perhaps suggesting her work was not as meticulous as it could be was not the best method to go about discussing this topic, but it should at least get her attention. Even the best researcher in the world could not perform at their optimum standard while running on minimal rest and sustenance. He had found that himself several times, and although he did not get as much sleep as he should, he was normally aware enough to realise when he was starting to miss things. If she was not doing this, or had too much motivation to stop, then it could easily be having a detrimental effect on the research she was doing, and thus on the lightfighters’ knowledge. And it had not taken him long to realise that while knowledge was power, falsified knowledge could cause someone to fall very quickly from whatever powerbase they might have acquisitioned with it.
Looking out at the night sky rather than at D’rorah as he finished talking, Kerridon looked down at the forest below them. From so far up it looked smaller, but the darkness was still there. His eyes were drawn to the clearing where he had seen the congregation of dementors and shadows so long ago, having just met D’rorah and accompanying her on a prefect patrol. He never had discovered just what such a gathering was doing there, and was unlikely to now. The breeze had lessened slightly now, and he hoped it would reduce the chill D’rorah was feeling, although it was doubtful.
He did not hesitate for more than a second before replying to her offer of help. Working with her on this spell would involve her seeing some of the previous work he had done, especially the test subjects he had used, that he was not too keen on her seeing. She had shown him the light, so to speak, and there were plenty enough reminders of his less savoury past already for her to see. There was no need to show her more evidence than she might already have of his young test subjects.
“Thank you, but it is okay. I shall work out the spell soon enough, and I will let you know when it is complete. You may want to teach it to the other lightfighters.” He certainly would not volunteer for that himself. Not only had he not yet been trusted with all of the names of the current lightfighters, but some of those he did know were hardly in the list of people he liked. As usual, one name came to mind, but he tried not to think it too loudly. He knew D’rorah was a telepath, and even if he wasn’t convinced that she would invade the privacy of his mind on a whim it was still a precaution. It was also habit; he knew how easily a stray thought could be picked up by those around him.
Despite having just refused her own help, Kerridon still spoke up offering the same service. ”And yourself? If I conducted some of this research for you would you sleep more? Then the same amount of work would be done.” There was no hint of a smirk on his face now, simply seriousness. He had suffered from chronic fatigue before due to the mixture of stress and exhaustion from not sleeping properly and his sister’s death. It had not been a pleasant experience and had taken him some time to recover from. Although he based the majority of these thoughts on logic, he could not deny that there was a fraction of true concern buried in there somewhere. D’rorah was one of the few people he could be himself around and not feel as if he was too different. He didn’t have to lower his speech so that others understood it, and frankly it was quite nice. And even besides all that, D’rorah had been the one to convince him that he did have a choice on whose side he was on in this war. Simply put, he owed her.
Her next question caught him off guard and he turned his head to look at her again, a slight wariness in his eyes. She was right in her ideas that he had been suffering from a mental backlash; mostly at nights when he was asleep and it was harder to control his thoughts. The revitalised memories came back to him and attacked him in his sleep at whatever chance they could get. And there were also new fears that plagues him; thoughts of Dark Phoenix finding out, and suddenly he was trapped in the Shadow Realm. Nightmares that she had won, and that the lightfighters were all dead, and he was just running from the shadows because every time he got too close, visions popped into his head. Visions of Dark Phoenix breaking through the barriers, finding out about who the rest of the lightfighters were from his mind, then killing them one by one.
And also, darker dreams... of a darker self. Where he hadn’t changed sides, where he was the one torturing and killing other lightfighters. And then he suddenly changed, the barriers in his head broke like they had done when D’rorah had entered his mind, and he realised what he had done and backed away from whichever lightfighter was lying on the floor. It soon followed on with that gruesome memory he had acquired from his father’s mind a year and a half ago, while practicing his legilimency. Before he had buried it deep because it was just so nasty, but it wasn’t until the barriers had become slightly dislodged due to D’rorah’s mental workings that it had resurfaced, and he had realised that the blonde girl in those memories was one he actually knew. A younger D’rorah, soaked in blood and screaming, held down by dark bindings that pierced her skin as she struggled. He watched through his father’s eyes as she was attacked and assaulted by each man; some joined with shadows, others not. Sometimes he’d wake up before it got to his father’s turn... but sometimes he wouldn’t. Either way, he never got back to sleep again afterwards.
And since he wasn’t too keen on telling D’rorah any of these dreams, especially the latter, he didn’t give a direct answer to her question. He didn’t want to discuss any of it, and if that attack had truly happened, and he was fairly certain it had, then he really did not want to bring that subject up. ”Why do you ask?” he said softly, redirecting his gaze away from her as he spoke so he did not have to meet her eyes as he said it.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 22, 2008 5:49:22 GMT -5
”Crime or not, I am sure you would get more work done in long run, and of better quality, if you were not just going through the motions of working. Who knows if you have missed something important due to exhaustion.”
D'rorah nodded slightly. "[blue]It is a possibility I have considered and have taken steps to prevent. I would welcome the opportunity to sleep a bit more... but sleep is never an easy proposition, even when one wishes ardently for it.[/blue]" Given her nightmares, sleep was an unpleasant activity at best; and was nearly impossible at worst. She had never liked the effects of sleeping draughts and potions. They too easily inserted themselves into one's routine as necessity, rather than aid. And the sleep the provided never seemed to be quite as restful as the sleep she'd remembered from before all of this had happened.
"[blue]Yes, I will certainly wish to teach it to the others,[/blue]" she agreed as Kerridon rejected her offer to help with his research. Ironically, he turned directly around to offer his own help in her own research. "[blue]I do appreciate the offer; however, I feel your time may be more wisely spend in adopting defenses for the spells which are not in my own research. You have a more inside knowledge of the Mage and her methods. My research is largely historical... searching for information in texts, searching for mention of spells among the history, searching for ways to identify potential Lightfighters.[/blue]" Admittedly, most of the reading she worked her way through was of little help... the previous generations had never been able to make it even this far. Having so many Lightfighters gathered together was a major breakthrough. Even though their training was rather inconsistent, just the fact of so many of them being together greatly increased their chances of success in this war.
After having asked about Kerridon's sleep, D'rorah allowed her mind to wander a bit as she surveyed the night sky. So absorbed, she did not catch the wary look Kerridon cast in her direction. Instead, she could feel the whispers of the sleeping minds around her in the castle brushing at the edges of her consciousness. For the most part, she made an effort to remain unaware of the thoughts of those around her. She considered it a misuse of her abilities as a telepath to read a person's mind without his or her approval first... except for rare and desperate situations. As her mind wandered, the memory of the night her parents had been killed rose into her thoughts. Only... after just a few moments of the memory, she realized that the perspective was all wrong. It was still the same scene, but these eyes looked down upon D'rorah as she was brutally attacked. She felt her body tense at reliving it all once again.
It wasn't until Kerridon spoke, asking why she was concerned about his dreams, that she heard the thought of the words echo with the actual sound of the words and realized that the memory she was seeing was Kerridon's memory. Her eyes opened wide and she swiftly swiveled her head to regard him. Seeing that he wouldn't even look at her, she opened her mouth to speak and found that no sound issued forth. Closing her mouth again, she closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. "[blue]You were there?[/blue]" she questioned finally, forcing her own memories to go back to that day. She didn't remember Kerridon, and she was certain the face of every being that had been there was permanently etched in her mind. No, it couldn't be... she would have noticed that right away... she would have known the first time she had seen his face...
The left corner of her lip twitched slightly and she felt her body tense. It was a great effort to resist pushing her way into his mind and tracking the memory down herself. But, knowing that no matter what he had done in the past, that he was now an ally, she forced herself to be calm. It took a lot of willpower. "[blue]I suppose I ask because we all have memories of horrible things which plague us until sleep becomes an impossibility. How do you have that memory?[/blue]" She cringed inwardly a bit. Was she sure she wanted him to answer that question honestly? What if she was wrong? What if he had been there? No, no, there had to be another explanation, any explanation. The fact that Kerridon would know though, that he had the memory of a direct witness to something she never spoke about, wasn't a pleasant thought for her. Only her Elemental Masters knew the scene with that amount of detail because she'd been forced to re-live that awful night each time she had joined with one. Even Dylan knew little about that night... she had told him of the attack, of the physical damage it had caused to her... but never did she talk about it in anything other than ascetic, detached terms. And here was a boy she hardly knew who seemed to have first-hand experience... Did she want an answer to this question? Would it make any difference? Unable to remain still, she was on her feet as soon as they question of how it was he had the memory had issued from her lips. Her arms were crossed in front of her as she walked closer to the edge of the roof. Her head was bowed and eyes closed as she took a series of slow, steadying breaths. And yet, for all of her carefully cultivated self-control, she could do nothing to stop the couple of tears that had worked their ways free from her eyelids and slowly trailed down her cheek. There was an explanation for him having that memory, there had to be. And, though she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to hear what that explanation was, her ears were open as she lifted her head and stared out into the depths of night, refusing to be further cowed by the awful events of the night her entire life had changed.
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Kerridon Paradox
Ravenclaw
[blue]6th Year Ravenclaw[/blue]
One loss locked me in the heart of misery... but you had the key to set me free
Posts: 317
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Post by Kerridon Paradox on Nov 23, 2008 10:19:57 GMT -5
Not really knowing what else to say on the matter of D’rorah sleeping more, Kerridon did not reply to her response. He himself had never been a huge fan of sleeping potions or draughts. He hated being dependent on anyone, let alone just a material thing. And a magical item... that must be even harder to break the addiction from. It would just be too easy to lose control.
Also, he was unsurprised by her rejection of his help. And her logic made sense – he was, after all, quite experienced in creating spells. Except they were normally of a more offensive nature; defensive was a new area for him, and he was finding it quite difficult. ”I have the basis of it done... but there some undesirable side-effects that go with performing the spell. I am not certain how long it will take to work them out, but I will let you know once it is complete.” Defending yourself from this spell was all very good, but blacking out due to the pressure it put on your mind was really not very helpful, even if no one could get into your head while you were unconscious. And there were several other spells that he had created which could do with defences against, but this seemed the most dangerous and potentially disastrous at the moment.
His lips thinned a little as the thoughts of his own nightmares pierced the otherwise serene atmosphere. He saw her turn to look at him but kept his gaze averted for now while the memory of her torture was still fresh in his head. Having the knowledge of what had been done to her by the Mage’s minions... he was still uncomfortable acknowledging his father’s part in that attack, so he used the collective term... but anyway, that knowledge gave him a fair idea of just why D’rorah would never convert to Dark Phoenix’s side. Why would she obey someone who had not only tortured her when she was practically still a child, but had also killed her family?
When the irony of that struck home, Kerridon ducked his head a little, staring down at the ground below rather than out at the forest. He was slowly coming to realise just how severely he had been brainwashed into thinking he had no choice, that anyone else was foolish if they couldn’t see the inevitable outcome of this war. He had wanted his dad to accept him, be proud of him, so he had just accepted all that he was told and done as ordered. He had taken the punishments without much fighting back because he had done wrong, he deserved it... he needed to be taught a lesson. After his father was reported dead he had been too numb to think much for himself, to get the idea of maybe changing. But Dark Phoenix had still been there, controlling his actions. It was not until he’d come to Hogwarts that he had enough freedom to do such a thing, but then he was too stuck in the ideas forced into him that he hadn’t. At least, not until he had been shown how misinformed he had been all these years.
When D’rorah spoke his immediate reaction was panic, and his actions reflected that. ”What? Get out of my head!” he exclaimed, turning rapidly to stare at her in disbelief and a little anger. So much for her asking permission before delving into another’s thoughts. And he hadn’t felt her enter at all, which frightened him. How could he defend against a mental attack when the person didn’t even give any sign that they were inside? If Dark Phoenix could do the same then he had no chance of preventing her from finding out.
She was right about how horrible things could prevent you from getting any sleep if you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about them. As soon as she asked the next question she was moving, away from him and towards the edge of the tower. He calmed his anger a little, clenching his fists in an effort to dissipate it more quickly. It did fade and he stood slowly, looking over to where D’rorah was now standing with her head bowed. The wind, angled as it had been before to prevent her from hearing him as he climbed up the tower, now brought the sound of several steadying breaths to him. He closed his eyes for a few seconds then reopened them and stepped forward until he was standing a few feet behind her.
”I wasn’t there,” he confirmed first, in a quiet voice. ”But... I think my father was. I was practicing legilimency on him one time, about a year and a half ago, and I came across that... memory. I did not realise it was you until recently; I believe when you were constructing the new barriers, you dislodged a previous one that was suppressing it. I saw no reason to bring the subject up... I did not think you would look into my mind again.” Although there was a hint of bitterness in that last comment, it was barely noticeable even to him. He took another step forward and hesitantly put a hand on her right shoulder, hoping it wouldn’t surprise her too much and cause a repeat of earlier, when she had slid off the roof. ”I am sorry,” he told her honestly. ”If it is any consolation, my father is dead now also...” He had been told by Dark Phoenix that lightfighters had killed him, but really, it could just have easily have been her for messing up on that last mission with Taisy. In fact it really had been the Mage who had him murdered, but Kerridon had no proof or knowledge of this, just conjecture that it was possible.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 23, 2008 13:10:47 GMT -5
D'rorah felt Kerridon approaching behind her and tensed slightly. Would she really want to hear whatever he had to say? She had heard his angry command to get out of his head a moment before with only half an ear. But now, she could feel him standing behind her and wasn't sure how to act. She didn't want to look at him at the moment, to see a look of pity in his eyes for what she had endured. She had seen too much of that in the hospital while she recovered. Ever since that day, she had felt almost as though she were marked in some way... that the events of that night were written on her face like a large flashing sign. It had taken careful work on her part to realize that, for everyone else in the world, life was going on just as before.
When Kerridon spoke quietly that he hadn't been there, she felt a small amount of tension release. As he explained what had happened and offered news of his father's death as consolation, she shook her head slightly. "[blue]I am finding, these days, that no one's death is a consolement of any sort. Death is merely a necessity of war... a person's death can never undo the evil he or she carried out during a lifetime.[/blue]" She felt her emotions coming more within her control; the couple of tears that had trailed down her cheeks were all that had managed to escape during the initial shock of realizing that her own private memories were not quite as private as she might have liked or imagined.
"[blue]I did not enter your mind, Mister Paradox. I make a point of ignoring the thoughts of others around me so that people may have their privacy. My parents taught me that sanctity of the mind is a human right that all should be able to expect.[/blue]" She turned to face Kerridon, slightly ashamed that her face looked sad, rather than detached as usual, but unable to find any way of conjuring the appropriate emotional distance at the moment. "[blue]Being a telepath is not merely having the ability to engage other's minds at will. Everyone's mind is open... at any moment, I can hear the whispering of hundreds of thoughts around me. They are always there, always plucking at the edges of my own consciousness. It took time before I learned to block them out. The most difficult part was learning to distinguish between what were my own thoughts and what were the thoughts of those around me. When I first saw that memory, I thought it was my own... I had no reason to realize,[/blue]" She breathed slowly, even now the thought of Kerridon having a first-hand account of that night was difficult for her to digest. "[blue]As far as I was aware, there were only two people nearby with knowledge of that might... myself and my Elemental Master. I was, however, confused as to why the perspective would be off. I did not realize that the memory was yours until you spoke and I heard your words echoing in your thoughts.[/blue]"
She took another deep breath. "[blue]I apologize for my intrusion. Had I realized at the time that it was happening, I would have prevented it.[/blue]" She was moving closer to being annoyed with herself... she had spent years, years learning to control her abilities. She should have realized right away that the perspective was entirely wrong to be her memory... she had allowed herself to be thrown off by her own possessiveness of the memory, certain that no one she knew at Hogwarts had been present that night, and thus, could have no way of having the memory. "[blue]Until now, I did not know any of the attackers' identities... your father was an exceptionally horrid person. I had some notion of tracking every one of them down in an attempt to prevent what happened to me from happening to another... but Master Xiu helped me to see that I could better serve that purpose by preventing Dark Phoenix from conquering the realm.[/blue]"
With a small sigh, she made her way back to where she had been sitting before and sank gracefully into a seated position. A night of quiet contemplation had already been filled with far more suprises than she had expected. But then, the surprising things were often some of the most helpful. "[blue]It would seem you know far more about my history than I am comfortable with, Mister Paradox,[/blue]" she intoned resignedly. "[blue]For what I hope are obvious reasons, memories of that night are not something I share with others.[/blue]"
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Kerridon Paradox
Ravenclaw
[blue]6th Year Ravenclaw[/blue]
One loss locked me in the heart of misery... but you had the key to set me free
Posts: 317
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Post by Kerridon Paradox on Nov 25, 2008 14:39:44 GMT -5
Kerridon felt D’rorah tense and could hardly blame her for it, but winced nonetheless. He felt a small amount of relief when he saw some of it released in the surreptitious movement of her shoulders, but found he didn’t truly agree with her on the matter of his father’s death. Consolation may have not been the correct word in the context, but still, he was hardly mourning his father... vindictive satisfaction would probably be a better phrase. ”But it can prevent them from performing any more evil. Which he continued to until he was killed,” he replied quietly.
In his mind there was no doubt that his father would have continued to perform such acts in the service of Dark Phoenix had the lightfighters not killed him on his last mission – or the Shadow Mage, if it had indeed been her. D’rorah’s attack and assault had not been the only one he had come across in Raziel’s head; there were others just as horrific. It simply stood out now that barrier had been dislodged, because he knew the person involved. Having that man out of the world was a luxury for everyone who had ever met him or was destined to.
When he heard that D’rorah had not actually entered his mind, he frowned a little in confusion. How had she come across that memory then? She turned and he dropped his hand back to his side with her movement. He could see the sadness in her face, and faintly... ever so faintly, he saw the tear track on either cheek. It was strange – he had never seen her lose her composure like this... at least, seen for himself. She didn’t have much composure in that memory either, but that was a younger D’rorah he did not know. She began to explain how she had discovered it and he waited, listening patiently to the elucidation. He was not overly happy with the idea of his mind being open to whatever telepath came along, and determined to find some method of protecting his thoughts from the skill of telepathy. There had to be some protection against it...
The slope of the roof meant he was looking down on D’rorah a bit as she spoke, so he took another step forward, but to the side this time, so he was on equal footing with her. He glanced down at the ground so far below for a few moments, taking in the edge of the forest, the water lapping at the side of the lake and then just the grass below. The occasional lone tree was dotted about as well, with an owl or two swooping in the air as they hunted. When she said about his father being an “exceptionally horrid” man, a twisted grimace made its way onto his face for only a second before he smoothed it away. He knew that... he had dreams of what he’d done every night. It wasn’t pleasant.
She made her way away from him and back to where she had been sitting before, but he stayed where he was for a short while longer, staring downwards. He had never intended for her to discover he held that memory, but now she knew... and he would just have to deal with that. He heard her voice once more and didn’t turn to face her as he replied. ”If I had known beforehand what I had found, then believe me when I say I would not have delved into his mind. Yours is not the only attack I found a memory of, it simply... sticks out.” Another grimace twisted his face and he turned while clearing it, returning to the spot on D’rorah’s right side and sitting once more before continuing. ”You are the only living person who knows I possess that memory, and I plan to keep it that way.” Letting out a small sigh similar to the other Ravenclaw’s sitting beside him, he waited in silence for a while before speaking up again.
”I should like to meet with Master Xiu at some point,” he commented. The mention of him had made Kerridon curious about the mastermind behind the lightfighters, who had convinced D’rorah not to seek revenge. He could not help but wish that she had disobeyed him... if she had tracked down and killed his father in enough time, then his sister might have survived. She would have escaped that last evil act. At least, final that he had witnessed. There could well have been more afterwards that he did not know of. ”Would that be possible without alerting Dark Phoenix?” he asked after another pause. The logistical problem of getting to China in the first place was made even more difficult due to the fact that the Mage would want to know exactly why he was heading over to the country where the lightfighters had their HQ.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 26, 2008 7:26:10 GMT -5
"[blue]Yes,[/blue]" she agreed, "[blue]I suppose he can commit no more atrocities now.[/blue]" She had fought so hard against Master Xiu as he explained to her why she could not track down the individuals... it would take her focus away from the larger war, give Dark Phoenix more of an opportunity to succeed. It would stop the actions of those few while possibly enabling the actions of many more. Selfish. And yes, it had been a selfish desire... the selfish desire of a fifteen year old who had had everything viciously ripped from her in one night. Master Xiu had gone on to argue that killing them would dehumanize her... though she rather thought that her later missions had been dehumanizing enough...
Seeing Kerridon's twisted grimace as she mentioned his father, D'rorah also saw that it quickly melted away. If he'd been having to endure those nightmares often, he was well-enough versed in the horrors his father was capapble of. She herself couldn't imagine what the feeling must be like, to know that one's own father could commit such repugnancies. It was not unnoticed by her that Kerridon placed himself on equal footing as they stood on the sloping roof, and she appreciated the subtle signal that he thought no less of her than he had before... but then, he had known of these nightmares for quite some time.
"[blue]Sticks out...[/blue]" she repeated quietly, her voice trailing off. Briefly, her mind set to wondering what about it might have stuck out. She quickly reigned in that curiosity, however; knowing that any answer she received on the matter couldn't possibly be something she actually wanted to hear. She looked over to Kerridon as he took his seat beside her. "[blue]I appreciate your discretion. I know it is not solely for my sake, but it is good to know we have a shared goal in keeping it secret, nonetheless.[/blue]"
She had taken to looking out into the night as they both sat for several moments in silence. It was a peaceful night... one might almost call it beautiful. D'rorah had to admit, there was something deeply restful about leaving her books for a while. In a war like this, especially with the deaths of so many people she knew, it could be difficult to forget exactly what they were all fighting for. Emerging from her sequestration from time to time was a useful exercise for renewing her commitment to the war that was ravaging the lives of everyone around her. Even now, she wondered how Katherine was faring, sleeping alone in her bed, now the sole heir of Knightswood... she worried about her team. Caitlin was obviously heartbroken over Mallan's death, and her gentle spirit seemed to despair more every day and with every loss that was endured. She had lost her Elemental Master, though fortunately the overall affect of his death was relatively minimal, as they had never been joined. Mallan... D'rorah felt as though she'd only barely begun to know him. She she have been there to protect him from himself, rather than locked away in some darkened Ministry basement as so-called Aurors "interrogated" her. Wysteria had been betrayed and had become a full vampire... a quite painful process, as she understood it. And now faced the difficulty of attempting to redefine and rework how she lived her entire life. Susan seemed fine for the most part, but she was also quite clearly distressed by the loss of allies as time moved forward... D'rorah read her as having been mostly an optimist her entire life. No doubt being constantly surrounded by fighting, death, and pain was causing some painful alterations to her worldview. Keaira, too, had endured to loss of an Elemental Master and had nearly been killed herself as Dien reached out to her... she had been the one to lead the ceremony to pull D'rorah back from the edge of corruption and leach the blackness from her veins while the others chanted and watched. Alessandro... it seemed that most of his misfortune came somehow at the hands of his own parents, his step-father's obliviate causing a mental schism which had turned him into a completely different person and had subsequently caused him to lose Keaira to Zane. And then there was Zane himself... trapped by the deeds of his past and slowly coming to feel as though he would be better off outside the group. She worried about that from time to time... he had enough information to devastate them if he ever defected to Dark Phoenix. No doubt she would reward him handsomely enough to make a very attractive offer... but she had read the histories. After a war was won, no Lightfighter was ever spared. Even those Shadow Warriors who had been corrupted and turned to Shadow were killed in a manner than extinguished their sparks of Light. Once victorious, no Mage ever risked losing her realm again. The histories were extensive... many other realms had already been captured. Some had been victorious in defeating Yang, but many had not. All of those worlds now were wastelands where nothing but wraiths, reapers, and the like moved about in the malicious half-lives. It was a fate she would fight against until there was nothing left of her...
She looked over at Kerridon quickly as he mentioned wanting to meet Master Xiu. "[blue]Master Xiu would be quite intrigued to meet you as well,[/blue]" she replied. "[blue]I had hoped I would convince all of our allies to journey there over the summer holiday. It would be an opportunity to train, to come together as a team. It may just allow us the edge we will need to achieve victory. I do not know how easily you will be able to move about though... Dark Phoenix always seems to have spies in the most unexpected of places.[/blue]" She thougth for a moment. "[blue]Perhaps, if you restrict your travel to simply mundane means, she will find it difficult to have anyone follow. They would be more likely to expect something like apparition or broom flight... even using a floo network to get nearby. However, if you can summon faith enough to trust in muggle technologies,[/blue]" here she smirked as she pictured Kerridon boarding a muggle airplane, "[blue]it may be a possibility.[/blue]"
Apparition directly to the monastery where Master Xiu and the other masters and monks lived was just as impossible as it would be to Hogwarts. Some form of mundane travel might work best for all of them... and traveling in twos or threes would probably be safest. Though, traveling amongst muggles included an assessment of the very real dangers they would face if Dark Phoenix tried to attack any of them... it was a tricky proposition all-around.
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