September 22, 2018, 10:18:54 PM

Author Topic:  sorry isn't an option but maybe forgiveness is [tag; nazreen]  (Read 226 times)

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Dominic Regan [ Professor ]
2006 Posts  •  38  •  Straight  •  played by Katya
He had run. He had turned and left her standing there waiting for an answer he couldn’t give, then. He paced, wearing and invisible path along the length of the door leading out to the grounds. His burgundy sweater was unbuttoned and the sleeves were pulled up just enough to keep a reminder of his past hidden.  He knew he should have stayed that day and answered her questions but he hadn’t been ready. He hadn’t known the answers then and now he still hung on to the notion that speaking to her again would be a bad idea. Dom lifted a hand to push his hair back from his face, sighing as he did so, before he opened the door and stepped out in the gentle breeze.

The sun was hidden in the clouds so the day was cool rather than hot. Slowly he walked, trying to milk the minutes, out towards the Greenhouses where he was sure she would be. The summer had been long and he had thought of all that had happened during their last moments together. He knocked this time, peeking his head inside the open door. “Professor Ajay?” He stepped into the building, swallowing loudly as he looked around. “Nazreen?” He looked around for a moment, could she be out back? Once more he paced, taking this moment to gather himself. “You can talk to her Dom, she wants to listen so tell her.” He whispered the convincing words to himself.

The man stepped back out into the fresh air, looking from side to side before he moved to lean against the outside wall. He gave a sigh, looking down at his feet as he waited. He hadn’t been sure why he had gone to see her last term; maybe his fear had gotten the best of him. But now, now he wanted to tell her what she wanted – no needed – to hear. Revealing those secrets would be hard for him, speaking about his father and how he was woke in the middle of the night. Dragged in front of hooded men and stood just inches from the Dark Lord himself. He would hate to tell her of the man he needlessly murdered to get the mark on his arm.

She might ask of the terrible things he did during the war. He might have to speak about the Muggleborns he’d turned over to keep from blowing his cover. He wished, hoped that she would understand why he had to do the horrible things he’d done. Brown eyes lifted, startled by her presence. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there because he’d been lost in the echoes of his thoughts. “Hello….” His voice was gentle, his gaze not directly on her. “I apologize for leaving without answering you last term. I wasn’t ready then…” He looked off towards his right. “But I am now..” He sighed, dropping his gaze as he pulled his sleeve up to reveal his scar for her to properly see.

“My father woke me…I was 17 and I had just finished school when he came into my room…” A chill slid up his spine as he thought about it. “I chose…in the hopes that my father would love me because of it.” It was just one answer, but she had asked two questions that day. Still it was hard for him to say why he had done the things he did. At least this was a start.


@Nazreen Ajay

Nazreen Ajay [ Professor ]
2036 Posts  •  32  •  pansexual  •  played by Samm
Re: sorry isn't an option but maybe forgiveness is [tag; nazreen]
« Reply #1 on: October 15, 2017, 08:23:56 PM »
Keeping busy was never difficult in the beginning of a new term and Nazreen was sweating from the weight of it. She hated when she had to do things on a schedule, had to adhere to the strict timelines of academic pressure, it didn't suit her well. The witch never wore make up or really even bothered much with spells on her hair and that was showing especially well today. Her long black hair had turned into a frazzled mess of tangles and frizz, she was fairly certain there may of been a spider or two nestled in the webbed leaves she'd walked through earlier too but that didn't bother her much. Nature never bothered her, not even the creepy bits.

People on the other hand... sometimes made her nervous.

And Dominic Regan was at the top of that very short list. When she heard a knock at the door followed by his deep unmistakable voice her jaw dropped slightly. "What do I do..." She mumbled both to herself and to the plants she spoke to like they were family and ducked behind one of the larger of the pumpkins she had on medical pot-rest because they had turned a strange purple tone last week. Before they could offer her any sort of advice (which naturally she would of listened to) the door was opening and she had run out of options. Instead of tucking tail and running though the strong witch willed herself to face him. She heard his words and they did nothing to calm her own nerves. Her cheeks were red both from anxiety and exertion and her naturally tanned skin was speckled with bits of dirt from her nose to her knees. She wiped her hands awkwardly on her apron and came out from behind the pumpkin that easily weighed twice as much as she did.

The way he spoke made her take deep, purposeful breaths. She believed what very little he had confessed to her during their last meeting but that hadn't made the memories of everything less painful. He had helped her, that was true, but it was hard to let that excuse the position he had been in during his assistance. Good deeds not withstanding he had still been a death eater. It was with an acute terror that she wondered just how many he had helped and how many he had not. She sucked in a harsh breath when he rolled up his sleeve, she knew it was there, but seeing it brought back all of the things she spent so much time (and so many specially prepared herbs) trying to forget.

"May I?" She asked, approaching him even though every muscle in her body was telling her to run. Like a worm recognizes a bird she knew this was the opposite direction she should be headed. It was ingrained in her memory now, and not just hers, in the world's. Death Eaters killed Muggleborns. It was like a mantra that was playing on repeat in her mind but she forced it down with a hard swallow, she couldn't be that person, she wasn't that person. She couldn't judge him so severely without anything more than a mark on his arm for proof. If they were merely speaking in actions she knew more good things about him than bad, the largest of them being that he had quite literally saved her life. His story rang inside of her mind and she took a moment to think about it, probably longer than most would have, probably long enough to make him squirm a bit, before finally motioning for him to take a seat.

She lead him to where the bean bag chairs were scattered unevenly at the back of the green house and used her wand to summon a pot of tea for the two of them to share. "I understand." She said simply before continuing. "I do not like it, but I understand that need." Her own father put entirely too much pressure on her as a young witch as well. Maybe it was just something every parent did, she didn't have children so she couldn't know. "I spent a year talking to the tigers in India when I had to chose, but to each their own... I suppose." Her words were not meant to sound insulting, or like she was comparing their struggles and saying she had done better, this was just how Nazreen spoke. She gave strange details at stranger times but some how it all seemed to come around full circle at some point... though, sometimes not for a long while. She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she poured the tea, using it as a distraction as a new question bubbled out of her nervous lips.

"Did you ever meet.... him?"

Dominic Regan [ Professor ]
2006 Posts  •  38  •  Straight  •  played by Katya
Re: sorry isn't an option but maybe forgiveness is [tag; nazreen]
« Reply #2 on: July 03, 2018, 11:57:04 PM »
He could understand her apprehension, knowing what she knew about him Dom would have expected nothing less. He stood still as she moved closer and the man nodded, "Yes, you may." No one had ever touched his mark before, had ever come close enough to something so personal. He wasn't sure how it would feel to have the heat of another person's fingers against the skin there, it had been years since he allowed such a thing. Her silence was worrisome and Dom realized it had been a long time since he had been worried about what another person was thinking of him. He couldn't be sure what thoughts she had swirling in her head but he knew that she was unsure of him. Who would know for sure if the Slytherin alum had good intentions or not? It could all be a ploy just as many who had held positions of power had played in those dark times. He wanted nothing more than to help her see that not all that took the mark were terrible people, even if, they were people who hurt people out of circumstance. The worse of it all was if he had to choose again Dom would make the same choice, knowing the future would mean nothing compared to how certain choices in his life had shaped him.

He relaxed just slightly as she invited him for a seat. She was giving him a chance which if he was honest the Irishman didn't think she would do."I wish I had true reasons other than that...but parents have a way of showing us the best and worst of ourselves. We choose who we become...the blame rests nowhere else." He had spoken those words in his mind countless times. The man had shifted through those moments in his life he thought were weighted on his father's shoulders in unexpressed guilt before the man died but Dom knew the truth, he had barely made the man proud. Being marked had been a step in the right direction but Dominic had lacked the devotion, the unwavering faith that his father held in his eyed unashamed when he spoke of the Dark Lord.

Her question caused him to swallow and Dom shifted, "Once hooded when I was 17...I can still remember how chilling the sound of his voice was. How it roamed up my spine as he spoke as if he were controlling the feeling." He instinctively reached to rub the mark as if it burned as if he were being called. "Then during the war..." The man paused as the image flashed before him, "I saw what lurked behind the shadows of the hood..." His eyes closed and he took a deep breath, "I don't fear many things as I've seen far too much to ever truly be afraid." He looked over at her, "But," he started and Dom turned to look around as if someone could overhear this moment the two shared, "when he looked at you the air it stilled and it felt like the gaze boring into you was the last you would ever see. That, I was afraid of as any sane man would have been." Dom reached for his glass and for a fleeting second the liquid slushed and rose over the sides as his hand trembled, shook by his own words.

"Back then things were different, there was so much to prove on both ends. You had to pick a side...had to be smarter than the man next to you or you could die." He had lived through two wars and it seemed in each he had lost something he cared for beyond measure. The first had stolen away his father even if it was how the elder man had always dreamed he would leave the world. The second has nearly ripped his humanity away instead it shattered the delicate lines of trust he had built with those closes to him. He had nearly lost his children because of his darkest secret. "My father thought he had chosen the winning side." He lifted his glass to have a sip as he contemplated his next words and found six that plagued him.

"Why haven't you turned me in?" 

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