Post by Jonathan Partridge on Aug 14, 2010 20:46:20 GMT -8
((OOC: As Jaleth, Jonathan and Kara are my characters, I will be posting this mass post as each account, but will be playing all three of them in each post, just so there is no confusion as to why one acct is using multiple characters...^^))
March 11th, 2011
8:30 P.M.
Tutaminis Manor Corporum Building, Commons
The large, manila envelope stared at him with its boldly written letters. This package was left to Jonathan’s care by the late Lana Lenor. Running his callused fingers over the seal, he popped the envelope open and poured out its contents: a note, a sealed envelope and a locket. He stared at them on the table, feeling a bit of dread wash over him. Her untimely death still haunted him. He could still see her eyes, losing their glow as her life was mercilessly taken by that witch. Jonathan blinked several times in attempts to wipe the image from his thoughts. That was weeks ago, but still felt like yesterday.
With uneasy hands, Jonathan held the parchment in view and began to read:
Jonathan -
If you are reading this, then I am surely dead. All cliché’s aside, I trusted you enough with this letter, knowing that you will carry on this message for me as I have become unable. Enclosed is another letter, meant for my brother’s eyes only. If timed right, you will be able to find him on the rooftop of the building across from the Three Broomsticks at 10:45 P.M. of this date. Take the locket and the letter to him. Whether or not you reveal to him the details of my death is your choice. All that he needs to know is in the letter.
If I trusted you with this, one of the deepest secrets of my life, I owe you my thanks. Know that the time we spent together, albeit brief, was a wonderful time and for showing me there is hope for redemption, and that someone like me could possibly find someone like you… I could have loved you.
May your path be blessed through this life and the next.
-Elana Lenor
His fingers traced the parchment, over her signed name. Jonathan’s pain surged through his body, piercing directly at his heart. The two of them had shared a few adventures together in the short period of time he had known her, and he had grown quite fond of the spitfire known as Elana Lenor. His heart beat fast, throbbing for what he could only explain as heartache for this loss. Jonathan was connected to her, not only by his physical attraction to the buxom blonde, but also indebted to her soul for the mere fact that she saved his life.
She saved my life… he thought. He owed her this much.
11:11 P.M.
Jaleth yawned. It was getting late, far beyond the time Lana had told him to be there. They had set the date to meet up a long time ago, as this date held significance to the siblings. It was the day their parents were married, a date they had decided was a time to be stripped of all transgressions against one another, a day they were to come together as brother and sister and convene accordingly. In the past the two have gone flying, caught a Quidditch match, and even gone out to dinner at a nice restaurant in London. More recently, as Lana’s declared status as a fugitive deemed it impossible and downright dangerous for them to be seen together in the magical world (or some parts of the muggle world), the two settled for a night in, dinner and possibly drinks, just some idle chatter to catch up with each other. Jaleth often tried to tell his sister to live an honest life, start over, and essentially swear fealty to Trevor Williams. She would constantly argue, saying that her cause, the Order and the refugees she’d been harboring was a good cause and things often escalated from there. He was willing to let things go, at least for today, as the flow of their day generally rejuvenated him, and made him a little more optimistic when he could spend time with his baby sister, as they were, or even better than they used to be when they were kids.
He was perched on the rooftop across from the Three Broomsticks, sitting on the edge of the roof with a blanket beneath him to make sure no dirt would come to harm his suit. Jaleth could already tell that Lana would give him flak for the way he was dressed, possibly even tell him to dress down and relax for the occasion and he cracked a smile, amused at the thought. Honestly, this was Jaleth dressed down; he was wearing a dark blazer over a baby blue collared shirt and black slacks. If would be any consolation, the shirt was unbuttoned a bit on the top, exposing some bare skin to show how “relaxed” he was.
In all honesty, Jaleth had been looking forward to this night with his sister for quite some time. He had no solace in the school and couldn’t stand to be home lately--and meeting up with the only family he had left would actually give him some semblance of peace. He huffed, and eyed the sky, finding that the position in the sky meant it was past eleven. She was late. ”Come on, sis. Where are you?” He whispered to himself, hoping that any minute she would come flying in her animagus form and join him.
*
After much deliberation and contemplation, Jonathan bit the bullet and decided to go and follow through with Lana’s request. The weight of being the bearer of bad news versus being alive because of her death was a great and terrible battle, however there was nothing heavier than what was being held over his head. His debt. It was the least he could do for her.
Jonathan arrived on the rooftop just after 11:20 P.M., as he remembered that was the time on the large grandfather clock in the commons at Tutaminis. The inevitable feeling of dread washed over him as he laid his eyes on the dark figure sitting at the edge of the building. That has to be him. He had never met Jaleth before, only heard stories told to him by Lana when something they did would remind her about their days together, when times were better, of course. He gulped, blinked twice, and then proceeded.
TBC…
March 11th, 2011
8:30 P.M.
Tutaminis Manor Corporum Building, Commons
BURN AFTER READING.
The large, manila envelope stared at him with its boldly written letters. This package was left to Jonathan’s care by the late Lana Lenor. Running his callused fingers over the seal, he popped the envelope open and poured out its contents: a note, a sealed envelope and a locket. He stared at them on the table, feeling a bit of dread wash over him. Her untimely death still haunted him. He could still see her eyes, losing their glow as her life was mercilessly taken by that witch. Jonathan blinked several times in attempts to wipe the image from his thoughts. That was weeks ago, but still felt like yesterday.
With uneasy hands, Jonathan held the parchment in view and began to read:
Jonathan -
If you are reading this, then I am surely dead. All cliché’s aside, I trusted you enough with this letter, knowing that you will carry on this message for me as I have become unable. Enclosed is another letter, meant for my brother’s eyes only. If timed right, you will be able to find him on the rooftop of the building across from the Three Broomsticks at 10:45 P.M. of this date. Take the locket and the letter to him. Whether or not you reveal to him the details of my death is your choice. All that he needs to know is in the letter.
If I trusted you with this, one of the deepest secrets of my life, I owe you my thanks. Know that the time we spent together, albeit brief, was a wonderful time and for showing me there is hope for redemption, and that someone like me could possibly find someone like you… I could have loved you.
May your path be blessed through this life and the next.
-Elana Lenor
His fingers traced the parchment, over her signed name. Jonathan’s pain surged through his body, piercing directly at his heart. The two of them had shared a few adventures together in the short period of time he had known her, and he had grown quite fond of the spitfire known as Elana Lenor. His heart beat fast, throbbing for what he could only explain as heartache for this loss. Jonathan was connected to her, not only by his physical attraction to the buxom blonde, but also indebted to her soul for the mere fact that she saved his life.
She saved my life… he thought. He owed her this much.
11:11 P.M.
Jaleth yawned. It was getting late, far beyond the time Lana had told him to be there. They had set the date to meet up a long time ago, as this date held significance to the siblings. It was the day their parents were married, a date they had decided was a time to be stripped of all transgressions against one another, a day they were to come together as brother and sister and convene accordingly. In the past the two have gone flying, caught a Quidditch match, and even gone out to dinner at a nice restaurant in London. More recently, as Lana’s declared status as a fugitive deemed it impossible and downright dangerous for them to be seen together in the magical world (or some parts of the muggle world), the two settled for a night in, dinner and possibly drinks, just some idle chatter to catch up with each other. Jaleth often tried to tell his sister to live an honest life, start over, and essentially swear fealty to Trevor Williams. She would constantly argue, saying that her cause, the Order and the refugees she’d been harboring was a good cause and things often escalated from there. He was willing to let things go, at least for today, as the flow of their day generally rejuvenated him, and made him a little more optimistic when he could spend time with his baby sister, as they were, or even better than they used to be when they were kids.
He was perched on the rooftop across from the Three Broomsticks, sitting on the edge of the roof with a blanket beneath him to make sure no dirt would come to harm his suit. Jaleth could already tell that Lana would give him flak for the way he was dressed, possibly even tell him to dress down and relax for the occasion and he cracked a smile, amused at the thought. Honestly, this was Jaleth dressed down; he was wearing a dark blazer over a baby blue collared shirt and black slacks. If would be any consolation, the shirt was unbuttoned a bit on the top, exposing some bare skin to show how “relaxed” he was.
In all honesty, Jaleth had been looking forward to this night with his sister for quite some time. He had no solace in the school and couldn’t stand to be home lately--and meeting up with the only family he had left would actually give him some semblance of peace. He huffed, and eyed the sky, finding that the position in the sky meant it was past eleven. She was late. ”Come on, sis. Where are you?” He whispered to himself, hoping that any minute she would come flying in her animagus form and join him.
*
After much deliberation and contemplation, Jonathan bit the bullet and decided to go and follow through with Lana’s request. The weight of being the bearer of bad news versus being alive because of her death was a great and terrible battle, however there was nothing heavier than what was being held over his head. His debt. It was the least he could do for her.
Jonathan arrived on the rooftop just after 11:20 P.M., as he remembered that was the time on the large grandfather clock in the commons at Tutaminis. The inevitable feeling of dread washed over him as he laid his eyes on the dark figure sitting at the edge of the building. That has to be him. He had never met Jaleth before, only heard stories told to him by Lana when something they did would remind her about their days together, when times were better, of course. He gulped, blinked twice, and then proceeded.
TBC…