(Untitled)

[homely_illiad]

 Date/Time: Talking to Strangers/ Sunday, October 15th, 2006/ 2:32 PM
Location: Slythering Common Room
Open to: Adriana
Currently Involving: Illiana-- I mean, Illiad

There was no way he was going to be able to focus.

This fact hit him suddenly, in the chest-- so suddenly, that he felt his knees moving against his will to shut the Arithmancy book sitting

Comments

[adriana_winters]

There were several other descriptions Adriana could suggest for the Cruciatus, really. It was a twisted means of a curse, in the end. Twisted -- just like her.

Probably made sense that it was her specialty.

"Yes, it does," she agreed, clear seriousness in her tone as she kept her gaze across at Illiad, expression almost as blank as stone. "You have to feel it, need to cast it. Simply wanting to is not enough."

Ah, devotion to evil. Well put, indeed. Sinister, twisted ways had followed Adriana along her whole life, an absence of love, even more so! Adriana had made her choice a long time ago; finally becoming a Death Eater made hardly a difference in her mindset. She knew what she wanted, and she set after it.

"One of the most exhilarating experiences," she replied, needing no hesitation to think of an answer. The first time she actually fired a full-on Cruciatus... stopping an Auror from escaping during a fight. Thrilling. Adriana's eyes seemed to flash as she sat there, recalling the complete power rush she felt every single time. "Not something one can truly ever explain. You've only casted it on yourself, I gather?"

[homely_illiad]

The need to cast it. The need. Her words stung Illiad-- he knew exactly what she was talking about. It frightened him, to be honest. While he had always liked Adriana and admired her for her wit, her talent and affinities with the Dark Arts was never something that impressed him, nor something he longed to share with her.

And where they did share the absence of love, instead of ignoring those feelings completely, Illiad chose to chase them and cling to whatever he got so hard that to break it away might mean a tragic death of soul for himself or the person he was clinging to.

"Yes," Illiad said. "I haven't... I wouldn't have done it to another person," he said, suddenly feeling very weak compared to her. He wouldn't have done it to someone else-- it wasn't within his power. Even Andrew Frazer, who he hated more than anything, hadn't been on the recieving end of anything but a couple of silencing charms and more than a couple of punches.

"I mean-- I'm not... I don't do that...group," he said. He didn't know what to call it, although he knew of its existance, if not vaguley. Brinley had all but informed him that there had been a group he'd been with when he'd witnessed the murders taking place.

"I've only ever wanted to do it to myself."

[adriana_winters]

Illiad needn't worry himself about feeling weak in her presence. She'd be happy to put him at ease and assure him that it happened to lots of people, older females and authoritative males alike. A particular talent of hers that she was quite fond of.

Clinging to someone for love? Just the mere word made her feel the need to choke. Clingy... was not something she'd strive to be. Ever. The notion of love itself, was hardly in her books of believable items. It couldn't be forgotten, however, that Adriana had never actually witnessed love first-hand, so her thoughts on the matter were purely an outside perspective that it did not exist. Who knows - maybe someday she could have the chance to make the choice for herself.

"Ah, yes, the 'group'..." Adriana rose an eyebrow curiously, putting emphasis on the lack of name to said group for particular reasons that she hoped Illiad would get. "Regardless, and this is certainly just hypothetical, I doubt having status in said group would be the only way you could ever find yourself in use of the curse."

Adriana smirked lightly, watching Illiad try to find the right words. It was almost a pity, as she in fact believed he did have some potential deep down. "Don't count yourself out just yet, Illiad," she offered, shrugging her shoulders lightly as she sent her gaze in front of her towards the giant stone fireplace. "You're young, and there's a first time for everything."

[homely_illiad]

A first time for everything?

Illiad didn't want it! He didn't want to be a Death Eater and he didn't want to kill anyone, or put the Cruciatus Curse on them! The very thought terrified him. He'd seen, after all, a sight no one in the world besides him had been allowed to see-- Brinley Watson, in tears, so disturbed by the small part he had played in killing the students at the Great Hall. That had disturbed Illiad to his core, shaken him, and been the greatest arguement for him, in favor of Dumbledore's cause.

"Maybe," Illiad replied, looking very uncomfortable by the entire topic. He was not a killer-- a hater, yes; there were some people he did hate and he hated them beyond words. But to kill them?

To honest to God torture them and kill them?

And yet he could do it to himself. Of course, that was easy. The pain... it released him, sometimes. Released him of guilt he had pent up against himself, or frustrations he had about the world in general.