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 Memento Mori, Jacian/Nadya <3
Helene Aquila
 Posted: Apr 20 2017, 08:40 AM
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Mari
7th Year
Halfblood
Ravenclaw
Seventeen YEARS
86 posts
Offline
Why is my reflection someone I don't know?

Rep: 1 pts [ + | - ]
Helene AquilaRavenclaw
Awards: 6



Helene stared at the summons on her bed, Tybalt pawed at the piece of parchment and the ravenclaw girl paced back and forth in front of her bed. She’d dropped the piece of parchment as if she had been burned and sprang to her feet; her heartbeat had been sent spiraling erratically out of control. The braid bounced against her back and unconsciously she reached back and draped it over her left shoulder, letting her fingers play with the soft strands of its tip. Professor Jacian Turner had not summoned her in a couple of months - which felt like a very long time to Helene-, but memories of that first time she met him came flooding back. The skeletal and hollow, haunted girl sitting opposite of him still woke her up at night, sometimes she could see her staring back from the bathroom mirror. Helene had improved since then, the weight she may have lost came back gradually, but some part of her had remained fragmented; still stuck back there in her overwhelming grief at the death of Sybil.

No one knew just how much her sister’s memory haunted her how relentlessly that specter walked beside her, still chasing her through the darkness and the aisles of the greenhouse, peering with her overly large eyes through the leaves. STOP! The mental reproach shut down all of her senses, clamping down tightly on her imagination, her fingers had twisted the hair around them, suffocating the veins and cutting off circulation as if she could stifle the ghost or the scream building in her throat with the simple action. Taking a shuddering breath Helene picked up the parchment and tucked it into her robes, feeling uncomfortable but knowing she needed to talk to someone or she would go mad. There had been few good days, she’d managed to sleep here and there for more than a few hours, but she still couldn’t venture into a greenhouse without feeling an oncoming panic attack. “Let’s get this over with, shall we.”

The pair made their way through the winding and intricate hallways of Hogwarts; they managed to be led astray by the changing staircases and eventually reached the fifth floor where the teacher’s offices were all situated. Helene felt her mouth go dry and Tybalt seemed to be stuck in his own thoughts as the cat offered no comfort while he stood beside her feet, his tail stroking the ground leisurely as he waited for his witch to muster up the courage to knock on the door. It wasn’t until Helene’s fingers rose up and rapped on the door that Tybalt turned tail and bolted, causing Helene to turn around and hiss after him “Tybalt?” the question sounded a little panicked towards the end but the message was loud and clear. She was on her own on this one, and Helene knew better than to question the decisions of her feline companion. It wasn’t often that Tybalt left her to fend for herself but when he did there was usually a reason behind it, still the dread that was settling in the pit of her stomach made her queasy and her hands begun to shake.

I don’t want to know what’s waiting for me… When there was no answer, Helene was torn between leaving or trying again. The part of her that was used to following orders immediately sprang to life, flooding her with guilt if she so much as turned away. Instead, she knocked again and then after a few seconds opened the door and allowed herself inside with a questioning look around Professor Turner’s office. “Professor? I received your summons.” Desperately her mind worked to remember the last time they had had a session and whether or not that had yielded any results, but everything from years or even months ago was covered in a thick haze and if she lingered too long on the past a headache would form and yield no answers either way.

“Professor?” she queried again, thinking the office was empty.

@Jacian Turner

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Jacian Turner
 Posted: Apr 22 2017, 06:49 PM
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Nadya
Counselor
Pureblood
Gryffindor Alumni
27 YEARS
77 posts
Offline
n/a
Can't we give ourselves one more chance?

Rep: 3 pts [ + | - ]
Jacian TurnerHogwarts Staff Beginner
Awards: 13



Some swearing.
The counselor's mind was temporarily numb, like the center of a hurricane, he knew it was only a momentary sort of shock that would all too soon throw his thoughts into shredding circles. Jacian wasn't sure how long he'd sat, head in his hands on the bench in the still thawing garden, chilled slightly by the end of winter breeze that was moving through the Highlands, before he realized that time had indeed continued to pass around him. "Ah shite!" The former lion jumped to his feet, gingerly picking up the journal that had been abandoned to him, and heading off at a sprint. Of course, and the session he was dashing to - late, he was sure, but not certain by how much - was the one he'd been asked to schedule by the Headmaster.

The Scotsman let loose a barrage of unspoken internal swearing as he ran through the halls, up stairs, around a turn or two, until he slowed to a jog once he was to the hall with his room. He did notice a cat darting by which was a little odd, but certainly not unheard of at Hogwarts. From a bit down the hall he could see the door to his office was open, which caused him to raise his brow faintly. Sure, he wanted students to feel comfortable with him, however just walking into his office was a little odd. Still, he was the one that left it unlocked when he headed off for his walk. His hands shook faintly, as between the events in the garden and his dash to his office he was all anxious adrenaline - honestly, he felt like a fucking wreck.

As he peered into his office, Jace tried to take calm even breaths, and focus on his work. He'd read over the files he'd been given as one of his first cases when he'd started in September and the notes from their initial session. It was a bit alarming, honestly, the state the young woman had been in, a haunted look in her eyes that was similar to a sort he'd seen reflected from his own before. The kind that wasn't fully focused on the here and now, like they were staring at everything through a haze and not really comprehending what was presently in front of them.

What she'd gone through was horrific and had been this immediate reminder to him of why he'd had the life dream that had been snatched from him. These were the sorts of horrors he'd wanted to stop. And that her brother had been hauled away for casting an unforgivable curse...it was a clear example of the gray space between the choices that seem black and white, good or evil. Did he agree with what had happened, in all honesty, no, not really. But that wasn't in his control and the moral dilemma wasn't likely to ever be put in front of him anyway, as being an Auror was no longer an option and never would be.

After the exchange with his brother that had him so shaken, thinking of siblings was not easy - mostly, it made him feel even further like a piece of shite since here was a girl that had both siblings cruelly torn from her, meanwhile he'd turned his back on his brother when all it would have taken was some effort and careful planning and they could have been part of each other's lives. Tristan's words were still whirling in his mind and he tried to shake them. It was fairly immediate that he noted the figure already in the room, and he cleared his throat as he stepped through the doorway. "Ay, I'm so so sorry that I'm late," he sighed as his voice wasn't nearly as composed as he'd intended, a short cough, running both hands through his hair, and he tried again.

"I ran in'te a bit a'unexpected. But I'm 'ere now. Feel free to take a seat, would ye care fer some tea?" The young woman before him certainly was a change to the state she'd been in last he'd seen her. He only hoped internally it was likewise, though that was unfortunately not always the case. First, he set Tristan's journal on one of the bookshelves - sliding it on top of the old wooden box that held his small collection of childhood mementos - before the former lion removed his coat and scarf, draping them over the chair just inside the door, then he walked over to the table with his tea things and poured himself a cup and a second if she wanted one. He tried to ignore how his hands were still shaking, tensing the muscles to try to still them. He needed to pull himself the fuck together.

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[Outfit]
@Helene Aquila

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Helene Aquila
 Posted: Apr 24 2017, 03:31 PM
Quote
Mari
7th Year
Halfblood
Ravenclaw
Seventeen YEARS
86 posts
Offline
Why is my reflection someone I don't know?

Rep: 1 pts [ + | - ]
Helene AquilaRavenclaw
Awards: 6



Usually Helene wouldn’t let herself into a professor’s office but her nerves had been shot and somehow they had prompted her to think that maybe the professor had fallen and injured himself, so she’d scurried in but not past the threshold of the door. She hadn’t ventured anywhere else but instead was rooted to the spot just inside and to the right, her eyes moving to take in the room and possibly find all the possible exits should she need one. There was still no sign of the professor, no feet sticking out from anywhere, no other sound but that of her labored and agitated breathing bouncing back at her.

She flexed her fingers open and shut, open and shut to keep from twitching or outright bolting and saying she came and no one answered - which wasn’t an outright lie, but she couldn’t do that. Instead she decided to wait for a few minutes, not moving from her spot regardless of what her gaze absorbed or the panic that was starting to crawl up her throat. Helene wanted nothing more than to get back to her room where she’d pick up her books and bury her face into them, letting her mind drift over text and sentence structures, then eventually wander as was bound to do when she became absorbed in the world her eyes devoured.

Just when she thought of giving up and walking out never to schedule - or come when summoned - ever again, Professor Turner cleared his throat and Helene started; head snapping in his direction as he crossed the threshold and the window of opportunity to run away closed right behind him. She watched him stride into the room, his nervous twitched as his hands ran through his hair right after a short cough. He looked ruffled and not entirely here, which prompted Helene to wonder if she should come back another time. Her gaze was questioning as it settled on him, watching the way his body moved, assessing and calculating what the session would bring this time around. Her palms were sweaty.

“Tea would be great,” she said a little distracted, turning around to close the door he’d left open before taking the offered seat, hands folded in her lap after rubbing them against her knees to clear them of sweat. She watched as he poured tea, his hands trembling slightly though she couldn’t remember if they had done this before. The last session was still more or less a complete blur to Helene; she just remembered that there were questions asked and somehow from some place deep inside her own headspace, she had answered them. She also remembered the professor, whom she thought looked a lot like a bird of prey, and though she had never told him, her reminded her of an eagle. “I’m sorry about coming in, I thought something might have happened to you when I didn’t receive an answer.”

She felt guilty even though she had literally done nothing but stand there, waiting for the judgment to fall and someone to come collect her for the punishment. “Professor, are you alright? I can come back if you’re not feeling well…” she trailed off, hoping that he might take her own offer as his own personal escape and therefore granting her a reprieve of her own. Curiously her hazel gaze wandered towards the book he set down on the bookshelf, then they lingered on all of the written words she had no access to and felt the dread of the meeting start to dwindle a little as she breathed in deeply, the smell of paper and books mingling with the scents of the tea he had been brewing and pouring. This had a calming effect on Helene, who closed her eyes and smiled faintly as she lost herself momentarily to the smells. A flash of her mother in the kitchen of their house had her eyes snapping open again, swallowing thickly. Despite Professor Turner’s mannerisms and the ease with which he calmed his students, she felt nervous and too big for this small room.

“Have my roommates complained about my nightmares? Is that why I am here?”

@Jacian Turner

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Jacian Turner
 Posted: May 12 2017, 06:44 PM
Quote
Nadya
Counselor
Pureblood
Gryffindor Alumni
27 YEARS
77 posts
Offline
n/a
Can't we give ourselves one more chance?

Rep: 3 pts [ + | - ]
Jacian TurnerHogwarts Staff Beginner
Awards: 13



"Ah, no worries. That - ah, doesn't usually happen. Honestly, I am sorry fer leavin' ye waiting." Carefully, Jacian poured earl gray into each cup, the scent further defusing into the air of the room, asking how she took her tea and altering one cup as such. Her question had him breathing deep, in and out, silently, letting himself close his eyes, as his back was mostly to her while he faced the tray of tea things. Internally, his mind gave a bitter laugh but outwardly he tossed a smile that didn't reach the blue of his gaze, over his shoulder. "Ah, no, it's fine. I'm fine, 's not a problem."

Picking up one of the cups in each hand, the counselor walked over to offer one to Helene, then before he took his own seat, he rolled the wooden desk chair to a position that he could see and speak to her properly, picked up his small book full of notes and a fountain pen out of a drawer. Thankfully, his hands had mostly stopped shaking, so his reassurance wasn't immediately betrayed as slightly less than true, and he felt his heart running at a much calmer rate - though still faster than the norm. Settling in his chair, with the cup of tea in one hand and his notes and pen being held at his knee with the other, the scene from the garden started playing out in his mind. The sound of the two Scottish brogues, one rough and growling, the other smoother and with a posh air, both were raw and biting, the play back started trying to fill the momentary silence of his thoughts. What the bloody hell had he been thinking. He knew so many better ways he could have handled that situation, but he'd just reacted - the way he used to, in anger and raving - and he was better than that, wasn't he?

Taking a moment to blow across the surface of the tea, the steam warming his skin as he brought the edge of the cup to his lips, the former lion silently berated his wandering thoughts. This was his work now, the personal shite of his ridiculous life had to be shoved to side, stuffed in a dark corner of a forgotten room like all signs that he'd existed had apparently been back at the Truman manor, though unlike those, these were only to be temporarily forgotten, he know all too well that he'd return to tear through it all over a bottle later. This wasn't about him, he was here for the students, and what this girl had gone through put his pains to shame. That thought was sobering enough to shake him from his churning emotions.

"Yer roommates?" he replied, lowering his tea without taking a sip just yet and while it was spoken as a question it was more rhetorical, "not that I know of. I was asked t' follow up and see how you've been doin'. So you've been havin' nightmares?" it was asked calmly, with a tinge of concern mostly in the way his head tilted to the side and his brows rose slightly. It sounded a bit ridiculous really, and the irony wasn't lost in the echo of his counselor way back when asking him the same - 'how d'ye bloody think I've been doin'?' he could hear the answer of his younger self. It felt ridiculous, asking, however, that was in fact why they were present and talking, there was little point to convolute the words unnecessarily.

It was true, he hadn't really gotten much more information about the girl's state when he was told to send the summons. All he'd gotten was an expressed wanting for any more information for the Ministry's investigation, as there were apparently aspects that still lacked clarity. It saddened him a bit and made him wonder if he should have taken it upon himself to check in on her before this. It was up to him to advocate and focus on the concern for his students' welfare while others could focus on any other aspects of their situation. At this time though, he wouldn't let his mind wander to would-should and all that mess. Finally raising the cup, he took a sip and allowed the young woman a moment to answer.

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@Helene Aquila

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Helene Aquila
 Posted: May 22 2017, 08:47 PM
Quote
Mari
7th Year
Halfblood
Ravenclaw
Seventeen YEARS
86 posts
Offline
Why is my reflection someone I don't know?

Rep: 1 pts [ + | - ]
Helene AquilaRavenclaw
Awards: 6



"Thank you." Helene's hands reached for the offered cup of tea as it was offered. The surface of the teacup was smooth against her fingers and from within it radiated the warmth, slow burning as it gradually turned into a scalding lick against the pads of her fingertips. She settled further back into the chair as if it would provide her with some form of barrier, some kind of safety measure that would buffer the counselor's questions from chipping away too roughly at her walls. It hadn't even occurred to Helene that she was volunteering information until he asked for confirmation, like what she had said hadn't been confirmation enough.

Helene flinched involuntarily and for a moment her gaze moved away from him to take in the room again, the chair seemed to shrink around her, gripping her tightly against it, the arms working as a restraint; two sentinels ready to coil around her arms or torso and keep her there until she'd answered every question he'd asked. "Yes, I've been having nightmares lately. They've..." a rough swallow, fingers bringing the cup of tea up towards her mouth. She took a sip of the liquid without blowing on its surface and the hot liquid scalded the tip of her tongue, snapping her out of the slow consuming daze. "I've always had the nightmares, they've just never been this bad before. Each... each night they're different and sometimes I can't go back to sleep. In some I'm muttering an unforgivable curse, enjoying it as it kills a blood stained man. In others I'm on the receiving end or Sy-" A shuddering breath drawn out, the inhalation of the ether cloying her lungs, making it difficult to breath. "Sybil is sometimes on that receiving end."

The tea she just drank feels sticky against her throat and suddenly the soft smell of tea and paper, ink and the faint smell of feathers is overbearing. Slowly it starts to turn into something other, a familiar smell and feel and taste she experiences shortly after waking from a night terror. Her grasp tightens on the teacup's handle and slowly her gaze tracks back to Professor Turner, her eyes a two-way mirror. Many of the locked doors in her mind seem to creak open in the dark corners of that haunted corridor, the fear is present in the way her body stills and tightens. It's as if the thought is just in the early stages of birth and the realization is yawning awake like some great dormant beast which after four years of hibernation has deemed it time to wake and prowl the world again.

They shuttered closed again before anyone could glimpse at those black claws trying to force the doors open wider and the rooms gazed through her eyes vanished from sight again.

"So I suppose I am doing as well as can be," she replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. This time when she sipped from the tea she made sure to blow on it first. "Professor... did I kill my sister? Are they asking you to investigate because they think I killed her?" This wouldn't be the first time such a thought has occurred to the eagle, in fact it has been a recurring nightmare of hers; buried so deep in her psyche that sometimes she's tricked herself into believing that it's true. "My father can't stand to be around me, and my mother no longer tells stories on the cold Romanian nights. Both Pa-Pater and Syb-Sybil's rooms have become untouchable... we have two tombs inside our house. Is it because of me? Did I kill my sister?" Tears welled up in her eyes and threatened to overflow and spill down her cheeks, but she blinked them away. There was raw guilt weaving into her quavering words and yet her hands and body were so still, as if asking about the nightmares had prompted whatever life had been imbued into her bones and muscles these past few months to exit upon every breath.

There was nothing more that Helene wanted to do than tear that old wound open again and probe its depths with her fingers so that she may pry the answers from each strand of flesh. She wanted to burst the atoms open and make sense of their hidden words, their hidden truths splayed out before her. If she cold pull her veins out and sprawl them out under a magnifying glass, would they be a tangled incomprehensible message?

@Jacian Turner

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