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[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

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[adriana_winters]

Adriana Winters hated being bored. Very much so. Almost as much as she did Mudbloods.

This committee for the Minister was proving to be no fun at all, and a waste, in her eyes. Nothing of substance was being done, and she was left 'patrolling' the hallways for nothing at all. It, ironically so, made her feel like an Auror, and left her to almost sympathize with how bored they truly must have been last year

[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

[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.