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Post by Dorian Michael Humbert on Jan 24, 2018 5:39:21 GMT
 I promise to keep you safe always and forever
The face. Dorian was completely unaware that he made “the face” that Dorcas found so entertaining. For a man so aware of his surroundings and so observant of everyone else, he really was rather obtuse when it came to things about himself that others saw easily. Dorcas enjoyed when Dorian’s jaw tensed, his lips pursed slightly, and he ran his tongue over his front teeth in annoyance. Paris had made mention of the fact that he played with the ring he wore on his right hand whenever he thought or spoke of his mother and father; the ring having been his father’s wedding ring. Was he always so easily read? Clearly his little tells had not interfered with his undercover work, but then Dorian was fairly methodical when it came to going undercover. He had yet to be partnered with Dorcas on a case of any significant length, but if the opportunity ever came up she would certainly make a point of mentioning any of his little idiosyncrasies should they emerge. “Are you trying to turn on the dark wizards with that face, or just me?” he could hear her saying. She claimed to enjoy “the face” but Dorian was certain she was simply trying to get a rise out of him. He tried his damnedest not to play into her games.
“That is not the way to get ahead in life, Dorcas,” he replied, looking over his shoulder at her. He quietly prayed she was joking but he had a sinking feeling that she was not. It was not uncommon for people to use manipulative tactics in the Ministry to get what they wanted, whether it be promotions, pay raises, or a suspiciously timed lost file but Dorian would never sink so low as to participate in such behavior. Rules were rules, and laws were laws. Manipulating either to one’s benefit was wrong, no matter the reason. He would not judge anyone, Dorcas include, for playing into office politics as they were but would not partake and he could only hope that the people he respected at work had enough decency to do the same.
Dorcas let out a swear of shock which pulled Dorian’s attention away completely from the radio stations, leaving the channel to play an old jazz instrumental that sounded like something from the forties. “What is it?” he asked curiously, not able to see what she was looking at from his position. Dorian moved around the chair then the coffee table to stand at her side as the mortifyingly embarrassing picture came clearly into view. Well, it would have been mortifyingly embarrassing, had he any insecurities about that sort of thing. “The day I interviewed at the Ministry and enrolled in the Academy. I wore one of my father’s suits.” His father was a tad larger than Dorian was at the time, and even now were the man still alive. Dorian was leaner, muscular but not overly bulky. Karl Humbert had much wider shoulders and he stood a good two or three inches taller than Dorian did now. “Handsome chap, wasn’t I?” he asked, the humor evident in his tone. It was, by all accounts, not his best look. Before that day Dorian had been in the habit of wearing his school uniform and on weekends and school holidays he was far more relaxed in his attire than he is now. A nice button down top, jeans or a more casual trouser. He even wore sneakers and, yes, in the sixties he had long hair. Times were different then. Dorian was different. The lad in the photograph, standing proudly in his father’s suit and smiling at Dorcas was far from the man who was two bottles into a prematurely interrupted wine-soaked depressive state.
Tags: Dorcas Amilie Meadowes // Word Count: 628 // Outfit: I probably won't find pictures later *lazy* // Notes: Short one again |
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Post by Dorcas Amilie Meadowes on Jan 24, 2018 8:29:34 GMT
 No. That was not the way he got ahead in life and it was taking him bloody forever to become head of the department ... well not quite. He was well under 35 still so he had plenty of time to become head of the department and at one of the youngest ages. Still it was something he more than deserved and she couldn't see why he wasn't really going for it. If you didn't make it known that was what you were striving for then you were going to get overlooked and if you didn't make a big enough fuss about it then people didn't think you were all that serious about it. Dorian was about the most serious person Dorcas had ever come across. He hadn't always been that way but he was what he was now and that was the Dorian that needed to kick up some kind of fuss about heading the department someday. "So I'll take that as a yes then." It wasn't a question, she'd bloody well yell at Peterson, calling him all sorts of names if she had to. She'd probably get a slap on the wrist for speaking to a superior like that but it wasn't like they were going to kick her out of the department by way of firing or demotion.
It was so strange seeing Dorian like that. It was plainly Dorian but so not. It almost sounded to Dorcas like his parents just took pictures of absolutely everything. Her's were the same. There were pictures of her in so many albums it was unreal and she had a feeling Rodolphus had seen every single sodding one of them when he'd visited her mother for tea and chats. He was such a creepy sleaze sometimes, stalking about her life like he was actually some considerable part of it. The only way he was any part of her life was because of the screwing around. He was a fantastic fuck and while he could have possibly been a pretty ideal guy he just wasn't. Despite regularly screwing her he still got married, he still had a child with his wife and he remained married. Dorcas wasn't jealous of his wife, not even in the slightest, but there was most definitely a possibility that had he not decided to get married then perhaps she would have had feelings for him on some level and wouldn't have minded that he'd been shown pictures of her butt-naked on a furry rug with a lace background as some kind of newborn baby picture that made no sodding sense.
Dorian made mention of him being a handsome chap. He was, there was no denying that he was one of the best looking guys she'd ever come across and despite his comment being in humour she looked up to where he was standing, looking down at the picture and smiled, "Still are." She pointed out. Dorcas looked back to the picture and closed the album. That was enough for one night and she needed more wine. This whole not drinking for a whole ten minutes was going to sober her up if she didn't rectify it immediately and that wasn't acceptable, not right now. Perhaps when she was drunker she'd come back to the album, perhaps Dorian would even be so kind to give her commentary on each picture, especially if they were all like that last one, but she doubted he'd ever be drunk enough to be that much fun. "That was pleasantly horrifying. I loved it." She grinned, leaning forward and slipping the album away in the draw beneath the coffee table, making sure it was all shut up incase she spilt or threw anything else this evening. They were probably safe though. Reaching forward Dorcas took the bottle of wine she'd brought over and topped up her freshly cleaned glass, emptying the bottle and setting it down she then picked up the wine and leant back into the sofa, taking a mouthful of the red drink that would ensure that at least she would have a bloody good time tonight, even if Dorian would keep that stick of his buried well and truly deep within the cavern that was his arse.
Tag: Dorian Michael Humbert
Words: 707
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Outfit: Awww!
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Post by Dorian Michael Humbert on Jan 28, 2018 19:12:56 GMT
I promise to keep you safe always and forever
Dorian did not need the compliment and he did not particularly want it, either. While he greatly disliked Dorcas’ overtly flirty comments about wanting to get him naked and do Merlin only knew what with him, he had grown accustomed to such remarks. He wished she would stop but and they continued to make him uncomfortable but not nearly as uncomfortable as they had when she first started tormenting him. That was what it was, really. Tormenting. Even though she knew he disliked it, and despite his praying that she would grow out of such an aggravating personality flaw, Dorian had come to accept her come ons as simply part of what made Dorcas an endearing part of his life. Compliments without the intent to make him uncomfortable, however, were most definitely unDorcas-like and he brushed off the remark without a word, simply looking anywhere but at her or the photo album and turning away.
Two bottles down, Dorcas finishing the third. It would have been a logical move to suggest they stop with the drinking, turn to water and get something to eat so that they did not end up with a migraine in the morning. Dorcas, of course, would be feeling her hangover from her own home, if possible, and if not, then she would be on the sofa and Dorian would be tucked away in his room until he was certain she was awake and completely clothed, having learned his lesson about Dorcas’ preference for sleeping in the nude after she appeared on his doorstep in a drunken mess some months back. Yes, it would be logical to stop drinking now but Dorcas’ sincere remarks, the slow, melancholy tempo of the song that had just come on the radio, and his self-loathing for the young man in the photograph wearing his father’s suit and thinking he could easily balance his future work with a family all urged Dorian to the kitchen where he opened another bottle and poured himself a hearty glass.
“Do you dance, Miss Meadowes?” he asked as he turned back to face the lounge, his words not yet slurred but his inebriated state clearly evident in his tone.
Tags: Dorcas Amilie Meadowes // Word Count: 364 // Outfit: I probably won't find pictures later *lazy* // Notes: Short one again |
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Post by Dorcas Amilie Meadowes on Jan 28, 2018 22:21:02 GMT
Dorian was off in the kitchen, opening a new bottle and Dorcas sighed, relaxing into the couch with her glass of wine, thinking Dorian's apartment was rather interesting. She'd been quite a few times over the course of the last few months and she wasn't afraid to let herself in. She presumed Dorian didn't much like her having a key to his place that she used as she liked but it hadn't bothered him enough to speak up on the matter, something she'd expected the first time she'd used it. Or just about any time she used it. Letting herself in she always expected him to try as politely as he could to ask her to please not do that any more but it never came. Either she wasn't a big enough pain in the arse or he didn't mind. She refused to think it was either of those two. Perhaps he was just lonely and rather liked that someone was comfortable enough and safe enough to let them in. Or perhaps because so few people could let themselves in that when it happened in the middle of the night, he could probably about 68% assume it was a drunk Dorcas and properly clothe himself before leaving his bedroom. Probably none of those. Maybe if he got drunker she'd ask.
Dorian spoke and Dorcas understood the words he was saying, but rather uncharacteristically her mind did not jump to any sort of far off conclusion, she took his question as simply that and shrugged her shoulders a little. "Only if there's someone worth dancing with." She said, about to take a sip of her wine before she remembered that that statement wasn't exactly true. She moved her wine glass away from her mouth, "Or I'm in a good enough mood but that usually involves a lot of alcohol." Dorcas wasn't much of a dancer but she was able to do it. Bounce and wiggle to the rhythm of whatever was playing, how hard was that? Rodolphus had tried getting her to dance "properly" by teaching her some kind of fancy waltz dance or something in one of her larger apartments, not that it had been all that large to him, he always found something to complain about which could be tiresome if she wasn't in the mood for his dragonshit but he could usually read her moods well enough now that he didn't step over the lines. Usually. Dorcas took a mouthful of her wine, rather relaxed in Dorian's apartment and thinking he didn't much have personal stuff. Everything might have had some significant meaning to him but it was so unlike her parents home. There weren't pictures of loved ones scattered everywhere, there weren't piles of books, or anything just tucked away in a corner. The place always looked like it was up for sale and as though there were going to be people passing through, looking about, trying to decide if they were going to purchase the apartment. Even with a child now, Dorian still managed to keep everything beautifully clean but then it wasn't like Ariel was on the move yet, perhaps once she was moving Dorcas would sit down on the couch and find a half eaten cracker shoved down the sides.
Tag: Dorian Michael Humbert
Words: 546
Notes: <3
Outfit: Awww!
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Post by Dorian Michael Humbert on Feb 8, 2018 19:28:15 GMT
I promise to keep you safe always and forever
Someone worth dancing with. Dorian had that once. It seemed so long ago and yet he could remember it as though it were yesterday. “Paris and I used to dance,” he sighed wistfully, his thoughts falling out of his mouth without much consideration. Paris would share her favorite records with him, and his with her. They would dance under the stars on his rooftop garden, the light and noise of the city banished with a complex charm Dorian had used to shut out the eternal hum of the busy city below. There had been a few missteps at first, coupled with polite apologies and gentle laughter, but they easily fell into a rhythm together. His rooftop in the city, her garden in the countryside of Hogsmeade; Dorian loved dancing with Paris whether it was slow and romantic or more fast paced and completely out of his comfort zone.
They still danced in his dreams. He and Paris still did everything they had done when she was alive when he dreamt. They went to the cinema and she rested her head on his shoulder trying silently to get him to pay more attention to the film than the exits and the people coming and going in the dark. They ate Chinese take away in her cottage with the windows open to let the smoke out from the fire she’d started in the kitchen trying to impress him with a home cooked meal. They sat in the garden and read silently, enjoying each other’s company without needing to speak. And they made love in a tumble of white sheets in the early morning light as he kissed her soft skin and he whispered his affections into her ear. They were happy in his dreams, usually. Sometimes, on difficult nights, he would see Paris’ face illuminated by a green light and he would wake in his bed in a cold sweat to the cries of his infant niece in the cot near his bed, but mostly they danced.
His glass clinked as he set it down on the coffee table in front of Dorcas, having taken one large sip before considering letting go of his drink, and extended his hand to her. “Perhaps you’ll consider me worthy for tonight?”
Tags: Dorcas Amilie Meadowes // Word Count: 376 // Outfit: I probably won't find pictures later *lazy* // Notes: All the short ones |
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Post by Dorcas Amilie Meadowes on Feb 10, 2018 23:24:01 GMT
It wasn't easy losing someone you loved and for Dorcas it was strange territory. There had been plenty of deaths around her in her time but no one she actually loved, no one she was actually close to and cared about. Throughout her entire life she'd never lost anyone she cared about so much so to lose Paris was a whole lot of uncertainty on what to do next and Dorcas still had moments where she forgot Paris was gone. She still had those days where she'd walk in to a room and just expect Paris to be there. Straight after her death she had those days more often than not. A few months on and those days were rare but they still happened. Sometimes it would take her a while to recall that actually Paris was gone and she was definitely not coming back. Which was fine. Dorcas could deal with that. People were dying every day, she wasn't special for also having lost someone. At least that was how she tried to reason it within her mind. It never made anything easier though.
Dorcas drank her wine as Dorian set his down on the table and extended his hand to hers. She'd been a little lost to her thoughts, thinking of nights out with Paris, Geralina and Tersha. Dorcas never really went out all that often, but when she did it was those three dragging her out, not that Geralina ever did much dragging, she was often dragged but by Merlin's hairy balls could she get wild. Dorian on the other hand didn't seem as though he could possibly have a wild bone in his body but he had something she supposed, a slight edge of fun perhaps because right now he was asking her to dance and she was leaning forward, placing her wine glass down. Standing she extended her own hand in to his and shrugged her shoulders, "Only one way to find out, I guess." She had no idea what kind of dancing Dorian was suggesting but going by the music it was going to be something jazzy, not exactly something Dorcas was good at. She could dance in night clubs which didn't take a whole lot of skill to be fair, and she was able to do one sort of fancy dance that she'd had to learn for Tersha's wedding but that was about all. There was a good chance Dorian was going to get his toes stepped on but Dorcas was willing to take the risk, after all it wasn't her toes that'd be getting stepped on.
Tag: Dorian Michael Humbert
Words: 434
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Outfit: Awww!
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Post by Dorian Michael Humbert on Feb 13, 2018 1:53:16 GMT
I promise to keep you safe always and forever
Dorcas set her wine glass down on the table and then placed her hand in his. His fingers lightly closed around hers as she got to her feet. Dorian noticed almost instantly that Dorcas’ hands were small and childlike compared to her cousin’s. Paris had long, elegant fingers and there were still nights when he dreamt that he had slid a ring around one of them when he had had the chance. It was one of the more unbelievable dreams he had about Paris and unlike some of the realistic ones he was accustomed to, Dorian never woke afterwards thinking for just a moment that it had been real. They had not known each other long enough for that but more importantly Dorian, despite truly wanting a family of his own, would never have asked her to spend the rest of her life wondering if he would be returning from work each day or whether one day it would be her having disappeared like his parents had. But when they danced, sometimes after those dreams he would wake up early before the sun had fully risen and he would roll over to his side, resting his hand over Paris to pull her in closer to him only to have it fall to the mattress in her absence.
Adjusting her right hand in his left, Dorian placed his right hand just above the small of her back and began to move her around the minimal open space of his lounge room. She did not seem the sort of witch to know much about formal dancing, in fact Dorian assumed that if such lessons had ever been suggested by Andre or Emily that Dorcas would simply laugh in their face. Luckily, the added movement was working the wine through Dorian’s system much faster than sitting on the sofa wallowing had done and he was beginning to truly feel the effects of his binge drinking which meant that if Dorcas were to step on his feet – ouch, yes like that – then he would probably not notice too often. The music was slower but with a discernable beat that made it easy enough for the inebriated Auror to lead.
Tags: Dorcas Amilie Meadowes // Word Count: 366 // Outfit: I probably won't find pictures later *lazy* // Notes: All the short ones |
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Post by Dorcas Amilie Meadowes on Feb 13, 2018 4:49:12 GMT
This was so strange but heck, there was no way she was going to pass up any sort of opportunity to be close to Dorian, who knew where it might lead! Probably not were she was hoping but still it would be interesting at least to dance with him for a bit, even if it was the sort of dancing she herself was not exactly familiar with. What she really needed to see was Dorian out dancing at a night club. She wanted to see a wilder side of him that had to exist somewhere. He was only a few years older than her and it was bloody depressing to think that he was all grown up and stuff at such a young age, because to Dorcas, who had once thought thirty was old, no longer saw anything below forty as old. Once she neared the big four-zero, she was certain she might just change her mind to 50 but for this evening she hoped to pull Dorian at least a little out of his shell.
Dorcas really wasn't used to talking about Paris. Paris was a subject she often avoided when the name was mentioned. Her parents still talked about her a far amount but Dorcas would casually mention her from time to time but any more than that and it hurt too much. She didn't like the pain associated with mourning. She had no way of expressing her grief like normal people did so it was easier to suppress thoughts and feelings that arose about Paris. She was certainly much better ignoring her emotions and locking them up rather than confronting them. But dancing with Dorian now, one hand in his, the other on his shoulder, she felt as though she could actually make mention of Paris. Perhaps only once but something in her wanted to tell him what she'd done. "A couple of weeks ago I spotted a pair of shoes she would have loved." She said as she put forth a conscious effort not to tread on his toes while she was speaking, "Ended up buying them for her. Wasn't until I walked out the shop I'd realised what I'd done." It had been one of those rare moments when in Dorcas' world Paris had still been alive. She wasn't comfortable talking about it much and she wasn't going to go on about it. She'd spoken to some twit at work about her emotions over Paris' passing and managed to convince them she only needed the bare minimum sessions to get through it all. Apparently death of a loved one was something that could impede your work but Dorcas felt she was travelling along the same as ever with her capture numbers.
Tag: Dorian Michael Humbert
Words: 456
Notes: <3
Outfit: Awww!
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Post by Dorian Michael Humbert on Feb 13, 2018 5:59:06 GMT
I promise to keep you safe always and forever
Hearing Dorcas speak about Paris was a rare treat and not one Dorian took for granted. The irony in his worrying that she did not permit herself to honor her emotions was not lost on the Auror who had shut himself away from most every connection he had once had simply to stop himself (and others) from getting hurt again. Dorian was well aware of his faults and while he did not particularly care to correct his issues – at least not before Ariel was thrust into his life – it did not mean that he thought it was in any way healthy for anyone to be so closed off. Dorian had been sent to see a therapist after Paris’ death, too, and he found it very helpful though nothing was quite as helpful as a good physical training session and pounding a few holes into the walls of his flat.
Listening to Dorcas retell her story of the shoes gave Dorian mixed feelings. It was good to know he was not the only one still missing Paris so much that for a moment in time she was not dead, she was just simply not in the room. A heaviness pressed on Dorian’s chest as he gave Dorcas a sad smile. “I’ve done something similar a time or two,” he quipped, but he did not elaborate.
Dorcas was not as bad a dancer and Dorian had expected her to be, though in all fairness he was not actually following the steps of any real dances. He led them around the open space of the lounge room in a modified box step but mostly they were just swaying back and forth. Paris had stepped on his feet far less when they had danced together but Dorcas was not half bad if one took into account how low his expectations had been of her. The younger Auror was not the typical “girly girl” by any means, though she was definitely still feminine in her ball-busting way. She was like a less subtle version of Paris and that realization coupled with the wine, Dorcas’ story, and the all too somber start to this weird evening in suddenly became too much. Dorian waited until the song ended before he removed his hand from her back and brought the hand he had been holding up to his lips. “I appreciate your keeping me company for the evening but I’m afraid I will need to retire.”
His eyes wandered over to the empty wine bottles and their glasses still resting on the coffee table. She should not be apparating in her condition, despite having had far less to drink than Dorian himself, who was certain to have a blinding headache come sunrise. “Should I fetch some blankets for the sofa?” He did not particularly fancy Dorcas staying the night but if the alternative was her splinching herself he would of course choose the option that was safer for her, even if it did mean he was risking having a naked colleague walking about his lounge as if she lived there.
Tags: Dorcas Amilie Meadowes // Word Count: 512 // Outfit: I definitely am not finding pictures later // Notes: </3 |
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Post by Dorcas Amilie Meadowes on Feb 14, 2018 13:29:08 GMT
Dorcas knew it was common to do these sorts of things. She'd caught her mum mentioning Paris coming over for Sunday but then she'd stop, laugh it off and carry on with what she was up to. Her dad too thought about Paris quite a bit. Since Paris' own parents and family had turned their backs on her when she was eighteen, Emily and André had basically become her new parents. Dorcas had grown up pretty close with most of her cousins, it wasn't until she was away at Hogwarts there there became more of a divide with her aunt and uncle gravitating towards a lifestyle that Dorcas' parents and other uncle and aunt most certainly didn't approve of. Since then Dorcas hadn't seen any of that side of her family. Amelia, Daniel, Kingston, Vienna and London weren't her family any more, they didn't even exist to Dorcas any more. Paris had been better than every single one of them combined.
The music came to an end and Dorian brought her hand to his lips. It was weird. It was very weird and if they weren't going to be screwing each other senseless in a second it was going to be super weird. Okay, it was super weird, he wanted to retire for the night and he wasn't inviting her into his bed, he actually wanted to sleep, but bless him if he didn't just offer up his sofa and blankets to her for the night. Dorcas chuckled lightly, shaking her head knowing there was no way Dorian, no matter how drunk he was, would want her sleeping on his couch. She'd only had a bottle of wine, she was buzzed, tipsy even but she was good enough to get the Knight Bus home without throwing up everywhere. "Dance with a girl and then you don't immediately throw her into your bed?! I think I'll catch the Knight Bus home." She smiled, she was of course only messing with him and wanting him to be a little uncomfortable but here was no telling how two-bottles-of-wine Dorian would handle such a comment. She kind of hoped for the face but she didn't hang around to see if he pulled it, or any other sort of look because she grabbed her jacket from where she'd left it and put it on, zipping it up and then picking up her bag to cross over her chest.
Tag: Dorian Michael Humbert
Words: 403
Notes: <3
Outfit: Awww!
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Post by Dorian Michael Humbert on Feb 25, 2018 2:53:49 GMT
I promise to keep you safe always and forever
A sense of relief swept over him – though not before his jaw tensed at her implications that they should be shagging after a single dance – as Dorcas refused the offer of his sofa for the night and instead suggested she would take the Knight Bus home. Dorian ran a hand through his hair and straightened the bottom of his shirt while Dorcas got her things together. “I’ll escort you out,” he said, moving to the front door as she pulled her jacket around herself. He was glad that she did not want to attempt to disapparate in her condition, and even more pleased that she did not seem to want to stay the night. He did not question her decision in the slightest, and simply opened the door for her once she appeared ready to leave.
The hallway was dim, a florescent light flickering noisily down the hall behind them, closer to where his half-brother Julian had taken over the lease from old Mrs Weatherby, an unpleasant surprise for Dorian only a few weeks prior. The rest of the lights seemed to be in working order, and Dorian scanned the hall quickly to see that they were alone. They were, and he discretely and swiftly pulled out his wand and fixed the flickering light. He pocketed his wand and guided Dorcas out. The hallway was not a long one and they passed by the other apartments rather quickly as he and Dorcas made their way to the exit. “I would appreciate your discretion regarding tonight’s events,” he said softly as he held open the door at the end of the hall and waited for her to pass through before exiting the building himself.
Stepping out onto the pavement, Dorian extended his wandhand and hailed the triple decker bus which zoomed up the street after only a few moments, weaving wildly between the muggle traffic of London and coming to a trembling and sudden halt right in front of him. “Please be careful,” he advised her, though she would probably take this as some sort of challenge and attempt to ride on the roof of the damned thing just to prove she could.
Tags: Dorcas Amilie Meadowes // Word Count: 362 // Outfit: I definitely am not finding pictures later // Notes: </3 |
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Post by Dorcas Amilie Meadowes on Feb 25, 2018 13:24:36 GMT
Dorian escorted Dorcas out of the apartment and down the halls and stairwells of the building. She smirked a little, hovering at the door he was holding open for her that lead to the main street as he asked for her discretion. He was such a sceptical arse. He really needn't have asked. Just who was she going to run off and tell about tonight? It wasn't as if he'd been in his right mind when she'd showed up. He was drinking, alone, and listening to Blackbird on repeat. It did not make for a healthy evening in the slightest but she didn't really care what kind of state she found him in, she'd always be willing to help him out and lift up his spirits. Not that lifting his spirits had been what she intended to do, she just didn't want him drinking alone and possibly hanging himself with one of his ties. Especially not the purple one. That was a damned lovely tie and would be a waste if it got stretched out by his fat neck. "As if I'd tell a soul," She scoffed, looking at him and then passing by, "But if you need such verbal confirmation then fine, I promise not to breath a word of this evenings events." She said, looking back at him and then carrying on as he joined her and hailed the bus for her.
In the dead of night the bus arrive. Blink and it would have seemed as though it had appeared out of nowhere. Dorcas took a step towards the purple monstrosity, figuring that would be the end of their evening but he showed a little concern and Dorcas sighed. Turning towards him she closed the gap and slipped her arms around him, placing her hands on the middle of his back as she hugged him. They weren't talking about tonight anyway so she figured a hug was safe, "Stop being such a worrywart." She told him, leaning back a little to look up at him. She wasn't usually the hugging type and she felt Dorian was entirely the same but she'd been drinking, admittedly only enough to get her tipsy, but drinking nonetheless, and a drinking Dorcas was a a happy, occasionally too handsy Dorcas. "I'll see you on Sunday." She told him, stepping away before stepping up on the bus, paying her coin and stating her destination. It wouldn't be long before she was home, there seemed to be a few riders of the Knight Bus but with its speed it wasn't too long of a wait before she was using her wand to unlock her home, stepping inside and sending her patronus off to Dorian. She had no idea if he knew she could cast a corporeal patronus but he would now and what he'd hear it say in her voice, just as she was climbing in to her own bed, was a little thank you for his company this evening and letting him know that on the way home she met an exceedingly drunk gentleman that was after her address so she gave his instead. Of course that wasn't true in the slightest but she couldn't let Dorian go to bed without pulling the face.
Tag: Dorian Michael Humbert and Julian Astraeus Blackthorne, whoever wants to go first I guess! xD
Words: 541
Notes: <3 Patronus would probably arrive about twenty minutes after seeing Dorcas off I'd guess!
Outfit: Awww!
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Neutral
Heterosexual
Sexuality
desperate for Dorcas
Relationship Status
Slug and Jiggers assistant // sexiest werewolf alive
Occupation
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izzy
Offline
Tag me @julian
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Post by Julian Astraeus Blackthorne on Mar 5, 2018 16:28:25 GMT
 Blackbird Julian was exhausted. Last night had been the full moon, and he had only gotten home this afternoon, only to sleep until the stars came out again. It was strange having a home to come back to at the end of a transformation, he was used to heading to one of the safe houses with some of his pack, getting his head down for a few hours and then carrying on. This whole having an apartment and privacy was strange, strange but good. So far. He missed the company of his fellow wolves, especially when he was feeling so ill. It was nice to be surrounded by others who felt just as you did, tired, sick, weak. Becoming a monster for the night was something that never ceased to leave a person floored and unable to perform at any kind of functioning level. His head pounded despite the elixir for pain that he had taken... four hours ago. Oh. That would be why it hurt so much, then, he was due another dose. Crossing to his kitchen, he opened the top cupboard, reaching back to the highest corner for the vials he kept tucked away there, and without hesitating he drank the whole thing down, crinkling his nose at the horrid taste. Getting himself a glass of water, he crossed to the window, pulling his tatty blankets tight around his shoulders to protect him from the icy wind as he cracked the window open a few inches, instantly regretting it as the sound of voices from the street below hit his sensitive ears like thunder. Cringing, he cursed under his breath and peered through the curtains to see who was there, wondering if swilling them with his water was an overreaction. Probably, but he was pissed off that people were being noisy at this time of night when he had moping and recovering to be getting on with, it was just rude. Cloudy blue eyes settled on the back of a man's head, dark hair blending into the night, and Julian tried to focus on what was being said as he watched the man hug a small brunette woman. "Waiiiit..." he grumbled, ducking back out of sight again, but then readjusting himself so that only his eyes peeped up at window level, the rest of him not in view of the couple below. He didn't care what they were saying, but the hug was all he needed to feel jealous, angry, and very concerned. His brother, the rat of a thief, and his hot little girlfriend hugging in the street late at night. Was this a normal occurrence for the two? Did Ariel often get abandoned in the apartment while her guardian smooched his little whore on the front step? How fucking incredibly out of order! Julian gritted his teeth, wanting to storm out of his apartment and down the hall to Dorian's, blast the door open and take his niece to safety, but he knew it would do him no good. For a start an Auror wouldn't leave their home without protection spells and wards, so he'd never get in, and second, he'd only just begun his game of getting the man to like him. It wasn't in Ariel's best interests to let anger get the better of him right now, plus he'd probably fall on his face and kill both himself and the baby trying to run for it in his weakened condition. Yet she was alone. Alone right down the hall while the thief and the whore kissed goodbye, and what had they been doing in the apartment? Screwing each other's brains out while the baby slept? His hand was now trembling on the cup and he knew he was overreacting. It was the moon making him crazy, enhancing every feeling that flitted through him, but he couldn't stop it. He watched the Knight Bus speed out of sight, and his brother returned back inside the building, and no sooner did he hear the click of the front door to the building closing behind Dorian, Jules threw his glass of water out of the open window as hard as he could with a growl of frustration, watching as it smashed to a million pieces on the floor where the couple had stood only moments ago. He slid to the floor, tears gripping him as he leaned against the wall beneath his window and gave into the sobs. Sobs of anger at his incompetent new brother, sobs of grief over River, sobs of exhaustion over years of enduring the agony of becoming a wolf once a month, and sobs for his beloved little niece and what she was having to go through. Julian sank further, curling himself up into a ball on the floor, his whole body shaking from the rage and sadness, and the cold that seeped into his bones from the open window. This was supposed to be a fresh start, a new life with a beautiful new person around to brighten it, it was supposed to be something good, but all he could feel was devastation and confusion. This wasn't how things were supposed to be! It wasn't meant to be this way. Julian sobbed until sleep claimed him, and he dreamed of his son, his boy, his everything. _______________________ tag: Dorian Michael Humbert and Dorcas Amilie Meadowes notes: <3 [googlefont="Dancing Script"] |
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Order of the Phoenix
heterosexual
Sexuality
Wishing Dorcas would take his declarations of love seriously
Relationship Status
Auror
Occupation
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Slither
Offline
Tag me @dorian
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Post by Dorian Michael Humbert on Mar 18, 2018 5:28:42 GMT
I promise to keep you safe always and forever
Of course it wasn’t the dancing that Dorian hoped Dorcas would keep to herself, though he would regret such actions in the morning when the wine that currently clouded his head had cleared and left him with a headache. It was the state in which Dorcas had come upon him that Dorian did not want made public. He was still grieving the loss of his girlfriend and it was a very personal and intimate thing to the man who had shunned all social contacts for the better part of a decade. He had loved and lost, and there was no getting around that fact. There was no solace to be found in the comfort of his new family, for they mostly had gone now too. The only remnants of the people that should he was supposed to have loved unconditionally, and who were to have loved him without question in return, were his orphaned infant niece and a distant brother who had not yet made his intentions fully known. Ariel, for her part, seemed fond of her uncle Dorian for the time being, but he knew one day she would ask the question Dorian would never be ready to answer, and then she too would turn her back on him.
When that time came, Dorian knew he would be alone again, and for that, too, he grieved.
The walk back to his flat seemed endless compared to the short trip he and Dorcas had made only moments before. The stairs seemed to climb higher than the building itself and the hallway stretched out in front of him appearing to grow longer with each passing step he took. His footsteps sounded heavier in the empty hall and he became acutely aware that his aim was not completely straight but he reached the door to his flat without incident and was soon returned to the emptiness that was hit sterile little apartment. Two empty wine glasses still sat on the coffee table, an empty bottle between them. Another empty bottle on the counter in the kitchen. The cushions of the couch were askew slightly, and the radio had begun a new song, something – if it were possible – that caused even more anguish to rise up as the Auror looked around at his sad excuse for a life.
Glasses washed and resting on their rims in the drying rack, and the wine bottles in the recycling bin, Dorian determined the kitchen to be tidy enough for the evening. He upturned the cushions on the couch so that there were no imprints of when he or Dorcas had lounged casually on them, and he lifted his suit jacket from the back of the chair where he had left it some time ago. When Ariel arrived home in the morning there would be no sign that her uncle had ever succumbed to the emotions that he bottled up inside of himself. He would be strong once more for her. Shutting off the lights, he made his way through the lounge and into his bedroom in the dark, guided only by the pale light of the night’s sky that taunted him through the window until he was dancing again in his dreams.
Tags: Dorcas Amilie Meadowes // Word Count: 536 // Outfit: I definitely am not finding pictures later // Notes: Scene. |
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