Dorian Montoir
January 07, 2019 9:07 AM
Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck on a ferris wheel by Dorian Montoir
Summer had been… different. In some ways, it had been pretty good, although that was largely down to the fact he had spent so much time with his friends from Sonora. Tatya had come over, and been introduced to his sister, which had gone well (if noisily), and they had all met up at Vlad’s and finally celebrated his birthday together, which had been great fun. And there had been Jehan. Since Dorian had admitted to his friend what was going on with his brother, there was no need to try to control Jehan’s visits so carefully to ensure they avoided each other. Which meant more Jehan. However complicated Dorian found his feelings for his best friend, there was nothing like being in the presence of the one you loved. Even if Jehan didn’t reciprocate, he got to talk to him, and look at him, and see him smile and all those things made his heart do somersaults - a feeling he wouldn’t change for the world.For friends, summer had been excellent. For family stuff it had been… problematic. It always was, to a degree, with Matthieu. That he was a problem was totally expected. But it had gone beyond that and… And other people were so damn complicated.
Now he was back, he was desperate to see the one person who always made it easier, rather than harder. The one person who had been notably absent from his summer. And it was understandable - it was what he had expected. He and Professor Brooding obviously weren’t going to see each other, and nor were they going to write. It broke the boundaries of a teacher-student relationship. But for all that it had been expected, it had still made him unhappy. He had missed her. He had needed someone to talk to. And, as the holidays wore on, the sadness had shaded into anxiety. Teachers left all the time… What if he came back and she was just… gone? He could not quite believe that she would do that to him. Deep down he believed that if she wasn’t coming back she would flout convention - or rather, no longer be bound by it, not being his teacher - and let him know. But he couldn’t stop turning over the ‘what if’ in his mind, culminating in him having a horrible dream two nights before his return, in which arrived not only to find her gone but in which he got blank looks from everyone when he mentioned her, and Professor O’Malley was still there or was back and everyone acted like Professor Brooding had never existed and he couldn’t tell if he was going crazy or if everyone was conspiring against him… He knew that last part was stupid. He wasn’t worried that she had never been real (he had the book, which he had held firmly in his hands, running his fingers over her writing). He wasn’t even really worried that she was gone. But he just… needed to check. And so after exchanging hellos and hugs and having a quick catch up with the friends he’d already seen during the holidays, he had left to go in search of the one that he had not.
The sign on the office door still read ‘Professor M. Brooding,’ and his worry lessened. It wasn’t going to go away completely until he had had a chance to see and talk to her though. He knocked on the door, and was further reassured by what sounded like a very familiar voice calling him to come in. He pushed open the door, and his face broke into a huge and joyful smile as he saw the potions professor, and he threw his arms around her in an enthusiastic hug, of the type only Jehan had ever received before, the kind that squeezed just a fraction too tight, expressing not only happiness but intense relief at being back together.
“I missed you,” he greeted her, utterly unnecessarily. There was only a certain amount of time he could hug her before it became inappropriate, and he knew he would have to let her go, although he very much didn’t want to. However, he was spared having to make that call by an intense and pitiful wail from near to his feet which simply demanded that he divert his attention. He broke apart from Professor Brooding to look down at Ailuros who, on seeing she had his attention, threw herself dramatically to the floor with several more plaintive mews. Dorian suppressed a smile. After all, it would never do to mock a creature who was clearly suffering.
“Duì buqĭ ” he apologised, kneeling down and running a hand along the kneazle’s soft fur, “Nǐ hǎo xiǎo dàolĭ māo,” he greeted her properly. He had come up with the greeting last year, which translated as ‘Hello Little Principle Cat.’ He was quite sure that wasn’t really the Chinese word for kneazles, which was probably some unimaginative attempt at mimicking the pronunciation, like Ni-Zuh-Le, but he thought it a much better term, especially given how nicely it fitted into a rhyming greeting. He scooped her up into a hug, continuing to murmur in Chinese, showering her with apologies for being so rude and so negligent and assuring her he was pleased to see her too. “Xiǎo Ài is not so xiǎo any more,” he observed. “Do you feed her growing potion?” he asked. Of course, she had grown during the term he had known her, progressing from the tiny little fluffball that had initially been brought back, but that had been too gradual to notice. Weeks apart made him notice the startling degree of difference to the little kitten he had known. There was every possibility that Professor Brooding was thinking the same about the teenager in front of her. Dorian had grown plenty during the year she had known him, again by degrees that might have been imperceptible at the time (though had certainly been commented on when he got home). He had not really stopped over the summer though, and in spite of still being overall really rather small for his age, he was bigger than he had been, bigger than his professor if she was in flats (and, more significantly, his mother) and his face had lost some of its childish roundness. “My mother accuses that you do this to me,” he added with a laugh.
“How are you both? How are your summers?” he asked brightly, his worries eclipsed for a moment by just being so happy to see them both and by having a purring Ailuros rubbing her head against his chest.
OOC - summer plans etc approved by friends' authors
13
Dorian Montoir
Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck on a ferris wheel
1401
Dorian Montoir
1
5
Professor Mary Brooding
January 07, 2019 10:30 AM
No matter what, you're always above the horizon line. by Professor Mary Brooding
Mary was a ball of feelings upon her return to Sonora. They were all good feelings, but her office almost seemed surreal now. Having spent the summer enjoying her new engaged life and meeting people and making plans and taking big gulps of the fresh air of happiness, Mary was more than happy to return to the simpler things of life as a professor. Of course, it helped that her lovely fiancee worked at Sonora as well.With classes not yet officially begun, Mary was more relaxed in her office than she might normally have been. Of course, relaxed for Mary Brooding still meant a neat gown, today of a summery blue color. Her usual buttons up the front were exchanged for a lacy exterior over satin of the same color. The whole ensemble was still modest -- flowing sleeves that extended to her elbows, baring her forearms to her inky desk, and a high neck that swooped across her shoulders -- and was tied in the back with a wide ribbon. She was comfortable and enjoying a breeze from the open window. It still felt like summer.
When a knock sounded on the door, she couldn't stifle her excitement. Either it was someone she loved dearly, or it was someone she loved peripherally. There was no one else at Sonora. So when it was Dorian, someone she loved dearly, she was particularly excited. Summer had meant no contact, by simple virtue of their dynamic and roles, and it had irked her terribly. She felt confident he had felt the same when he practically attacked her with a hug as she stood up. He was taller now, and Mary was in her casual flat shoes making the difference more noticeable. Her heart welled up with mama bear tears at the thought.
"I missed you, too," she laughed gently, allowing the hug to continue longer than she might've usually. "It's so good to see you again," she added as he let go. Whether Ailuros was actually pathetic or just acting that way didn't matter much, as the little furball was going to get her way regardless. "You spoil her," Mary chuckled, watching the two engage. The quiet plural of the 'you' stood in her head, as she'd watched the little kneazle -- although Dorian was right, she was not so little now -- very neatly get Tabitha wrapped around her little paw as well.
"No, if I had my way I'd give her a shrinking potion and keep her small forever," Mary said, raising an eyebrow suggestively at Ailuros who grumbled a little at the idea. Mary laughed again. It was so easy to laugh around lovely people.
"We are quite well. I want to tell you some news because it was a lovely summer, and then I want to hear about yours," she said, smiling. Normally, she would've answered quickly and then turned the subject more quickly to Dorian, but she felt that he wouldn't mind a little self-centeredness for a moment. He was likely to be almost happier than she was about the whole thing.
From behind her desk, she withdrew a large garment box wrapped in a white ribbon. It was simple and perfect and probably going to be okay, right? Mary hadn't yet spoken with Deputy Headmistress Skies about any of this, as it would be moot if Dorian didn't agree first, but Tabitha was supportive and that was good enough for her.
"For you," she said, proffering the box. Inside was a simple red sherwani, an garment that looked a bit like a short men's dress robe if she was honest, but that would've been customary for her brother to wear at her wedding. Since Mary's own father was not Indian, it was unlikely he would've worn one himself, but Mary thought her mother would've appreciated the gesture and since she planned to dress in a way that reflected her family's heritage, she thought it was only right.
As Dorian opened the box, Mary offered a short explanation. "It's a sherwani," she said, explaining what she'd just reviewed in her head. "And it would be customary for a man to wear to a traditional Indian wedding." She let that sink in for a moment. "Such as my own wedding." Quiet again. She was more terrified to tell Dorian than she had been to meet Mrs. Hawthorne, and the woman's reputation for being terrifying far exceeded Dorian's. "Tabitha, Professor Hawthorne, and I are getting married. I wondered if you might walk me down the aisle?"
OOC -- Tabitha's author and I have only spoken briefly about the wedding, so I didn't want to comment on the color of the sherwani just yet. The wedding will be reflective of their multicultural experiences and friends though.
22
Professor Mary Brooding
No matter what, you're always above the horizon line.
1424
Professor Mary Brooding
0
5
Dorian Montoir
January 07, 2019 10:11 PM
One minute, I'm on top of the world by Dorian Montoir
She was here. And she was pleased to see him too. And everything felt comforting and familiar and safe again."You gave her the name of a god," he pointed out with a smile when Professor Brooding accused him of spoiling Ailuros. He wasn't sure whether it had actually been her idea or Professor Hawthorne's but it could be considered the plural 'you' because even if it had been the Defence professor, they still bore collective responsibility. There was no censure in the teacher's voice and he knew she didn't really have a problem with how he treated her pet. And, as he had pointed out, he was merely meeting the expectations that Ailuros' mistresses had set for her.
Dorian's eyebrows quirked inquisitively at the mebtion of news. That sounded excitng, and from the tone of her voice positive (his heart clenched slightly, hoping the news was not that she would be leaving - he trusted her to know well enough how he would feel about that to at least sound sorry rather than excited if that was the case, even if the news was that she had been given the most perfect job in the world). He was more than happy to put aside his own summer, which had had bits of this and bits of that but nothing he was call 'news' and to hear about hers. The next thing she did, however, was pull out a parcel.
"Strange looking news," he commented.
"Thank you," he replied, when ahe revealed it was for him, polite but more puzzled than ever, both of which carried in his voice. He set Ailuros gently down, a fate which she accepted in exchange for "helping" as he began to undo the tantalising ribbons on the parcel.
The garment inside the box was beautiful. And Dorian was just drawing breath to say this when Professor Brooding began to explain. Only, to start with, her explanation left him more confused because why would he need traditional Indian wedding clothes but then-then-
"You're engaged?!" he echoed, almost shouting it in excitement. "Félicitations," he beamed, pulling her into another hug. There followed a volley of further French and Chinese which, whilst likely largely unintelligible, contained discernable words such as 'fantastique' and were reeled off in such an exuberant tone that, between that and the fact that he was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet and continuing to hug her, could leave Professor Brooding in no doubt as to how he felt about that news. He broke apart from her, still grinning widely.
"Congratulations," he repeated, this time in English. The gift lay not exactly forgotten but definitely put aside in favour of the more important matters of being happy and excited. He had not really had a chance to process everything Professor Brooding had said. If he had thought about it, the dress robes would have seemed an elaborate way of telling him that she was engaged but he was thinking less about that and more about the fact that she was getting married, she was getting married! And that it was perfect and lovely and wonderful, and it meant that dreams came true and people really did get happily ever afters in the real world, and that everything he had ever believed about love was right, even if it wasn't happening to him right now.
"How did- wait, who proposes when..?" he trailed off, his eyes sweeping Professor Brooding's hands in search of a ring.
13
Dorian Montoir
One minute, I'm on top of the world
1401
Dorian Montoir
0
5
Mary Brooding
January 08, 2019 10:03 PM
And the next you're hugging it. by Mary Brooding
Mary laughed, surprised by the reaction although she really shouldn't have been. "Oh, you're excited?" she laughed, bouncing and jostling with the hug and the umpiring and the hug and the shouting.Dorian really was such a sweet boy and seeing him be so excited for her, particularly when he'd previously seemed a little uncertain of the idea that she was with a woman, was moving. Mary found herself wiping her cheeks to dry the happy tears. This was what her brother should've been doing, her mother should've been doing, her father should've been doing. To have Dorian instead was a beautiful turn of whatever cosmic powers apparently loved Mary quite a bit and she couldn't help feeling a bit overwhelmed by the goodness of it all.
"Thank you," she murmured, trying not to make him uncomfortable. "You're so sweet," she laughed. "Does that mean you'll walk me down the aisle? You don't have to if you don't want to, I'd like you to come either way. But only if you want."
His question about the process of proposing was so sweet and innocent and Mary laughed. It felt nice and she was glad that a summer off hadn't ruined her relationship with at least this one of her students. She'd always appreciated Dorian's ability to separate Professor Brooding from Mary, and this was a happiness that was for them both. It was easy to be Mary when Tabitha wasn't the only person in the world who got to see a piece of it, even if Tabitha got much more than anyone else.
"I think you can do it either way, whether it's two women or two men or a man and a woman, or something else," Mary said, considering it. "I proposed first, but we wanted to think about it some more. Tabitha proposed again when we'd thought about it," she said. Her eyes glazed thinking of it, happy memories filling her vision. Then she refocused on the boy in front of her and she pulled out the locket that had been tucked into her dress front. "Tabitha gave me this," she explained. "She knew I would have to keep taking a ring off for potions and she's ever the practical one," she laughed.
With a dazed smile, Mary gestured to the more comfortable seats near the window. "Now," she said, taking one of them and waving her wand for some lemonade glasses and lemonade. "Tell me about your summer!"
22
Mary Brooding
And the next you're hugging it.
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Mary Brooding
0
5
Dorian
January 09, 2019 7:49 AM
The next... by Dorian
This time, Dorian had more of a chance to focus on the request Professor Brooding was making. Walk her down the aisle. He blinked in confusion, not really having heard that part the first time. He knew those words, on their own. He thought he knew their meaning in a sentence relating to weddings or he had done until a minute ago. But the image those words conjured up in his mind did not gel at all with a student-teacher relationship. Even a very fond one. Maybe it was just a turn of phrase about being at a wedding."You want me to come to your wedding," he clarified, starting with what he was certain about, "And wear this - and this is so beautiful and thank you, and you did not have to do this," he added hastily, remembering the manners that had been so thoroughly drilled into him. And then things started not really adding up because Professor Brooding really didn't have to have done this if she was just asking him as a guest and it really sounded like she was asking him to do something, because she had said he could just come as a guest if he didn't want to do the thing but... but what thing? "And you want me to... help, at the wedding?" he said it questioningly, feeling like even this strayed into the seriously presumptuous.
"That's beautiful," he commented, regarding both the locket and all the information that came with it. His mind spun with the information he had acquired too. In some ways, her assertion that women could propose to men was the strangest. He couldn't see why that would ever be necessary. The only thing slightly more perplexing was the idea of "something else" and he had no idea what she could possibly mean by that, the relevant portions of Professor Hawthorne's lecture the previous year having gone somewhat over his head. The important bits, however, stuck. He had pictured the future as being with Jehan, but only insofar as the the things they had now - each other, a place of their own, affection. The place was bigger than the MARS room and the degree of affection a lot more intense but... But that place had looked very lonely in his head, until Professor Brooding had started talking to him about her relationship. That had made him realise that there would be other people who understood. And now there was a model for his future. He could ask Jehan to marry him. Or maybe one day, Jehan would ask him… Or they would both ask each other. Although if Jehan asked him to marry him, there was no way he’d need time to think about it. He hoped to Maugris that Jehan wouldn’t either. If he asked Jehan to marry him and got anything less than an emphatic ‘yes’ he was sure his heart would break.
"And-" he began, wanting to ask a million more questions but stopping himself. He had so many more things he wanted to ask. So many things he was curious about. But they were supposed to be focussing on her now, not the wedding for which he didn’t even have a fiancé yet… "Am I allowed to ask you questions?” he asked instead. “I worry that I'll say something wrong or be rude by mistake. It's just... at home... At home there's all these rules. Some are actual law, and some just what everyone thinks. Good Pureblood boys marry good Pureblood girls and…” And he had always dreamt of getting married to the perfect person. And that had always meant someone who loved and understood him, but it also had always meant someone his mother was happy with - someone she was pleased to see him marrying. He had pictured her and Émilie there, celebrating with him, loving whoever it was almost as much as he did… And that part was still in jeopardy. He wished he could think about them, two of his favourite people in the world, without it feeling like someone had stabbed him in the heart. “I can’t imagine that something like this would happen there.”
OOC - as we are soooooo not done with the wedding strands of conversation I’m opting to pretend that last paragraph of yours didn’t happen. Hope that’s ok.
13
Dorian
The next...
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Dorian
0
5
Mary Brooding
January 09, 2019 11:58 PM
I think you get to decide. by Mary Brooding
OOC -- fine by me! XD. IC:Mary considered Dorian with a careful gaze. He was obviously excited, but she wasn't sure whether his reluctance to accept the proposition was due to his uncertainty that he was understanding correctly, his own self-esteem, or not being sure how to politely decline. There were thoughts spinning behind his eyes and she wished terribly to be able to fish them out and talk to him about them.
"You know that my family passed away when I was young?" she asked, confirming context before she continued. Her voice was even, proof that she had long since accepted the deaths of her family members. "Normally, my father or brother would walk me down the aisle at a wedding. Without them here, it should be someone that . . " Someone that what? It was inappropriate to say that they loved each other, even if that was true in an appropriate sense, and someone I value sounded clinical. "It should be someone that is important to me, and I'd like if you wanted to walk me down the aisle."
She wondered suddenly if Dorian's confusion was related to the fact that it was two women getting married, and he wasn't sure how that worked with an aisle. "Tabitha is going to be at the front, and I'm going to walk down the aisle, just like other weddings you've maybe seen before." She smiled warmly, hoping to settle any concerns. The nerves she'd had in asking Dorian this at all had steadily increased and she was feeling a bit like she'd like to hide her face.
Then he surprised her.
Am I allowed to ask you questions?"
She wasn't sure exactly what his concern was but the fact that he seemed so worried about asking questions at home made her feel nauseous. At the same time, she felt all sorts of warm that he trusted her and was comfortable. She was a safe adult for him, and that meant so much. A possible future, with little children in hers and Tabitha's home seemed desirable and she almost laughed at herself for thinking of such things so soon. That would've made Dorian uncomfortable though, so she settled on a smile instead.
"You can ask me anything," she said genuinely. "If there's anything that you say that I don't want to answer or that feels offensive, we can talk about that too so you'll know. But you can ask anything." She wasn't sure whether his questions were about her or about himself or about something else, and she was hesitant to push the issue. "Boys and girls don't have to marry each other," she added. "You know Professor Hawthorne's halfblood, but her family is very involved in politics and things. It doesn't matter who you are, you can love anyone." Mary smiled, hoping that it was a generally applicable comment.
22
Mary Brooding
I think you get to decide.
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Mary Brooding
0
5
Dorian
January 11, 2019 8:42 AM
The next, I'm at rock bottom. by Dorian
You know that my family passed away when I was young?Honestly, the answer to that was no. He had not known that. He couldn’t remember ever really talking much with Professor Brooding about her family, beyond them being like his, a bit, and her having a brother. He had thought she didn’t really talk about them because she was a grown up, not because they were gone. All of them? Even her brother?
“I did not know,” he admitted, because honesty was important, “Maybe… maybe you said something before, but I didn’t notice or understand… I’m sorry,” he added, mostly apologising for his own lack of linguistic aptitude if he had missed something in their conversations, but glad for once that English was strange enough that the one word could express both his apology and a degree of sympathy, even it didn’t seem like something Professor Brooding was outwardly upset about. He wasn’t sure that was the kind of hurt that ever got totally better. And she’d said it had happened when she was young. How young, he wondered? He had never thought about the possibility of anyone younger than a great-grandparent dying and it was terrifying. Even if grown up Professor Brooding was alright he was still sorry for Small Pre-Professor Brooding, who must have had a very tough time.
With this context, and with the repetition, the detail of the explanation, her request sunk in.
“I-” he began. He wanted to say I’m not that important. He didn’t really think he could possibly be, of all the people someone as lovely as Professor Brooding must have in her life, he could not possibly be the best choice. But she was asking him. He was her choice. She needn’t have even invited him to the wedding, not really. And that meant there was no way she was doing this for him. It was for her. She wanted him to stand in for her family. And once he looked past the shock and the surprise of that, was it really so strange? People were supposed to, more or less, love you like you loved them - it would be strange for one side to consider someone a close friend but the other to see them merely as an acquaintance. He had not had much luck with that lately. He loved Jehan, and he had no idea if Jehan loved him back in the same way. He loved his Mama and Émilie, and they said they loved him but they didn’t know everything about who he was and if they did, they might not. But maybe, here, finally, was someone who loved him back exactly the way that he loved them. Because if he had been asked how he felt about Professor Brooding, he would have said she was like family to him.
“I would love to,” he told her earnestly. “Yes,” he added, because even though the phrase sounded right he also thought that ‘would’ indicated the conditional and he did not want to leave any doubt. “I will do this.” The thought of her getting married was exciting enough, and that she wanted him there at all was special but… Everything about Professor Brooding’s life right now, and his part in it, made his heart swell with happiness.
Everything about his own made it feel like he was drowning.
“Mm,” he nodded to her assertion that Professor Hawthorne’s family were in politics. Politics could mean a lot of different things. There were a lot of different viewpoints in the world. It didn’t really seem comparable, especially if they were fine with her marrying Professor Brooding. Not that she had exactly said that, but he felt it was implied. If it had been Professor Brooding’s family, he might have asked, sought the confirmation that they approved, which he desperately wanted to hear could be true. But, even though she had said he could ask what he wanted, he still felt funny asking questions about Professor Hawthorne. Her assertion that ‘you can love anyone’ was… complicated. There was ‘can’ and there was ‘may’ and they were different, but he wasn’t even sure English speakers really used that distinction properly. And every thought he formulated about it all - about the politics, the philosophy of it all, the fine distinctions between types of people and auxiliary verbs - seemed convoluted. He found that all his questions had rather dried up. The hope she had given him had not been extinguished. It was nice to know that it worked out, sometimes, for some people… He knew he would cling to that, privately, desperately, trying to believe it could work out for him. But he was no longer burning with the desire to ask a million questions to help him plan his perfect wedding to Jehan, or even - selfish though he knew it was - talk much more about hers. Because everything he had said had brought his home life rushing back into the room. The world of expectations and pressures he was under, and all the fear of potential consequences. The conversations he didn’t know how to have. He had always been so close with his sister and his mother. Had been honest and open, telling them all his thoughts and fears. And now… Now this very important and very complicated and utterly elating and totally crushing thing was happening, and he couldn’t talk to them because their reactions were half the reason it was terrifying - Jehan’s being the other half. He felt cut off from all the people who mattered most to him.
Except one.
“I know,” he said quietly, “that you cannot choose who you fall in love with.” He knew it wasn’t a proper way to sit, but he found his knees had crept up towards his chest and he hugged them there as he took a deep breath and said… “Because I’m in love with Jehan.” His chest felt tight. He knew that it was fine to talk to Professor Brooding. She was not going to hate him, or judge him. But it meant making it real that everyone else might. “And…” his pitch rose and his eyes filled with tears. “And I - I don’t know what to do,” he continued, the fear evident in his voice as several tears spilled over, the final sentence disrupted as his breath kept hitching in his throat, “I - don’t- I don’t - know - know whether - whether anyone else will understand.”
13
Dorian
The next, I'm at rock bottom.
1401
Dorian
0
5
Mary Brooding
January 11, 2019 11:41 AM
I had a pet rock once. by Mary Brooding
Mary grimaced at the realization she had perhaps field to mention her family members' deaths before. It was a morbid topic and not one she preferred to spring on people. Her grief ran deep but it had been a long time - over a decade now - and she was accustomed to its weight. Her resignation often made others uncomfortable."I might not have mentioned it," she admitted sheepishly.
She watched as understanding slowly appeared across Dorian's face, followed by a sincere blossom of emotion. "Thank you," she said, trying not to let her teary eyes be too obvious. She had a distinct mother bear feeling in her chest, and that didn't seem like the sort of smothering affection Dorian might appreciate. For a boy fighting so hard to be a person, to be independent, and to figure out what all of that meant, a second mother was probably not what he came to her office hours for.
When his expression changed, it was like watching a storm cloud roll in. It was like standing in a grassy summer field and watching the rain race towards her, barreling inevitably and unstoppably towards her. There was no way to a void the onslaught, and there was nothing to do to comfort that beautiful summer cloud. She wondered if mentioning Tabitha's family had been helpful or not. Perhaps it made things worse. She opened her mouth to say something (or at least to remove her foot from it), and found Dorian sinking instead. It was the clearest panic attack she'd ever seen someone have in front of her, and she found herself sinking with him.
"Dorian?" she asked as his voice rose and his face contorted.
His admission of love for his friend was more surprising than she thought. There was no denying the looks between them, then the coldness, then the glances between them, and Mary had long since made it a priority not to start by assuming people were straight until they said otherwise. But to hear Dorian, who suddenly seemed very small, sound so heartbroken over it was more surprising. To her, it seemed that Jehan felt the same way as Dorian, if not a little more gruff about it all. Was that not the case? Her memory flooded with images of her own school days, before she had been out, and before she had known who she was. Before Michelle or Tabitha or anybody else. The world hadn't just seemed big, it had seemed oppressive and crushing. She had gotten through it alone, despite the odds, and it seemed like she was looking in a mirror of the past to see Dorian now. A hard lump rose in her throat as familiar anxiety, remnants of feelings she'd learned to manage but never learned to let go of, swelled in her stomach.
Before she was quite aware of what was happening, she was sitting on the floor as well, crouched on her knees. She was glad they had fairly comfortable halls and rooms and floors here. She'd heard the potions master at Hogwarts had a dungeon for an office, and that seemed terrible.
Moving slowly so as not to disturb him and so she could keep an eye on whether she should pull back instead, Mary extended her arms around Dorian and drew him into the warmth of care and concern.
"Oh, Dorian," she cooed, pressing her cheek against his hair and holding him. She found herself rocking and whatever she was planning to say hitched in her own throat as well. Her mother used to do this for her. It had been a long time. "My poor, sweet thing, I'm so sorry you're hurting. Love isn't supposed to hurt, is it? It always sounds so easy until you fall in it."
She waited until there were fewer tears and slower breaths, although whether she was waiting for stillness to find herself or her young friend was unclear. In any case, words eventually came out without strangling her. "It doesn't feel okay now, and it might not feel okay for a long time," she admitted, not wanting to lie to him. He was smart and didn't need her false comforts. "But I can promise you with one hundred percent certainty that it will feel okay eventually."
Mary considered the last of his words before tears had overtaken him. "I understand," she promised. "I don't know what it's like to be Dorian Montoir," she clarified, not wanting a single word to be untrue. "But I know what it's like to love someone you think you shouldn't, and to feel small and alone." She looked closely at his face, wanting him to know she meant every word. "I see you," she said. "You aren't alone."
Silence crept through the office that suddenly felt too big and too much for the little girl who worked there. She couldn't possibly have become a grown up, could she? She couldn't have become anybody. She had spent so long not mattering, but here she was.
"I was twelve the first time I had a crush on a girl, and sixteen when I fell in love with one," she murmured quietly. "I had so many questions and fears. You can ask me anything, or you don't have to ask me anything."
She let her comment drift into the air, not wanting to pressure him. Not wanting to pressure herself. Sitting on the floor of the potion mistress' office, they were just two scared little kids. And that was perfectly okay.
Or at least it would be.
22
Mary Brooding
I had a pet rock once.
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Mary Brooding
0
5
Dorian
January 11, 2019 9:38 PM
Over and over, all day long by Dorian
OOC - oops realised I never specified him sitting down and then suddenly he was. I pictured him more having taken a seat at some logical point, rather than collapsing to the floor in a miserable heap.IC
“I know,” he nodded miserably, when Professor Brooding described exactly how he was feeling, “I… I thought falling in love would be wonderful. But so far, mostly it’s scary.”
He held onto her gratefully, his arms around her, his face resting on her shoulder but turned outward, trying not to breathe too much of the smell of her jasmine perfume, which reminded him so much of his mother. He focussed instead on the tickle of her hair on the back of his hand, on staring at the things around the room that made it Professor Brooding’s office - the potions bottles, the clutter of the natural world; shells, huge leaves, even a pair of fairy wings, all oddities his mother would never have displayed at home - even though they blurred in and out of focus through his tears.
She promised it would be okay. And Professor Brooding had never been an adult who told sweet little lies however comforting they were. When things were bad or could go wrong or she didn’t know the answers, she admitted it. Dorian was not totally sure that she was right… He had questions about if this, and if that, and how it would be ok if they happened… But he knew she meant that. She believed that. And he had her, and he always would. There was only one thing she’d got wrong, so far.
“I do not feel like I should not love him. I do love him. Therefore… I should.” That sounded like a logical fallacy when he put it like that, like very circular reasoning, “Even if it was possible to wish to un-love someone…. That would be something you should never do. I want to be in love with him. I just… I want that he loves me too. And I want it to be okay with my family,” his voice cracked on this last sentiment, because that seemed by far and away the most impossible part of the whole problem. And with that, the floodgates opened, on every fear, every angle of the problem, every dark little corner that his mind had strayed to in the last twelve months, accompanied by a solid wave of tears.
“What if… What if I tell Jehan how I feel, and he doesn’t like it, and he doesn’t want to be my friend any more? And what if he tells everyone else, and then my other friends don’t like me either? Or people like- or mean people start hurting me? And what if my family finds out, or if I tell them, and they don’t love me anymore? Or they think, if this is how I behave, that I cannot be at Sonora, and they take me away? Am I…. Is it too much- is it crazy to worry about all these things, or do you think they really could happen?”
13
Dorian
Over and over, all day long
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Dorian
0
5
Mary Brooding
January 13, 2019 2:58 AM
This too shall pass. by Mary Brooding
Mary considered quietly and carefully. She was loathe to frustrate or embarrass Dorian, but he was a rational boy and she doubted that comfort would help him any. She couldn't use Tabitha as a perfect parallel since she obviously liked Mary back, but the idea was similar."If we tell Deputy Headmistress Skies that we are getting married, that I am marrying a woman," she clarified with a pointed raise of her eyebrow. "And I lose my job, is that because I am bad? Or if we tell the other professors and none of them talk to us? Or if I announce our engagement in class and students leave the room or refuse to take class with me?" She let Dorian ponder her questions for a moment. "Would you tell me it's my fault? Or that those people were not very nice?"
She found herself making small circles on Dorian's back, providing a distant comfort. "You are right. If you love somebody, then it is right to love them, so long as you are not hurting them." This wasn't the right conversation to bring up stalking, but she didn't want to just leave it at love always being okay. Not that stalking was love, but being a teenager was confusing so the thought came out of her mouth. "If you tell Jehan how you feel, and he doesn't want to be your friend anymore, then he is not worth being your friend and he is rejecting a very beautiful gift. If he doesn't love you the same way that you love him, he can still love you very much. If your other friends don't like you, then they are not really good friends, right?"
Mary took a steadying breath, feeling very unfit for this conversation. How could she possibly help when everything Dorian was feeling was exactly what she had felt, and sometimes still did? How could she make the world a better place for him? She supposed that was exactly it.
"I wish that I could make everything in the world better, and I wish I had any words to make everything easier," she murmured, her voice small. There were tears leaking out of her heart and into her throat, and her voice caught there. "You will not be taken out of Sonora and you will not be alone. I promise that because those are things that I can make sure of myself. You are not ever going to be alone or unloved. And I don't think your friends or Jehan will stop caring about you Either," she added with a small smile. "It is not crazy to worry, but I also do not think these things will happen. You're never crazy for feeling things, just like you're not crazy if you don't like spiders or something. You have spent a lot of time feeling different, and I know that makes this even harder for you." She searched his face, hoping to identify his emotions as she spoke. "I'm different just like you," she added. "And Tabitha's different in some of the ways that we are. And there are other students who are different like you too. I like to think that I'm doing pretty okay," she said with a chuckle and a wink. "You are going to do okay too."
Somehow, the world felt very large all of a sudden. It was no longer just the office here, but the whole realm of possibilities. Ailuros must have felt it too because she approached then and provided Dorian's face with a loving lick.
"Do you have any questions or anything I can do to help you think about things that are happening?" Mary asked.
22
Mary Brooding
This too shall pass.
1424
Mary Brooding
0
5
Dorian
January 13, 2019 7:10 AM
But how much is it going to hurt along the way? by Dorian
“Can she do that?” he asked, in a frightened voice when Professor Brooding talked about the risk of Professor Skies firing her for marrying Professor Hawthorne. He knew people could be mean but there was a difference between meanness, the kind that someone like Matthieu engaged in, and the example Professor Brooding had just given. “She should only be able to fire you if you’re a bad teacher. And you’re not. Does that mean she can expel me for liking boys?” he asked. He understood that this was not particularly the point she was trying to make, but it just opened up a whole other realm of things for him to worry about. “A-are those things going to happen?” he asked.“I don’t know if you can stop them,” he replied, when she promised he would not be taken out of Sonora. It was the first thing she had promised that he had really doubted. “I… They are legally in charge of me until I am seventeen. They can make choices about my life. About my education. If they decided that I can’t come back… how would you change that?” There were nice things in what she had said. She wouldn’t let him be alone. He knew she really could help with that, and he appreciated the steady stroke of her hand against his back. And that she thought his friends wouldn’t be mean.
“I… I sometimes think so too. That it would be ok to tell them… But once I say it… I can’t take it back. I lose control. And…. anything could happen. And then, on top of everything else, I feel bad that I don’t trust them. That makes me a bad friend…”
He wished she could make everything better too. He wished she could have promised him that none of the terrible things he thought would really happen. But she had confirmed that they might. Everything he was scared of was a real possibility, and the adult he trusted most in the world, who normally fixed all of his problems, couldn’t make sure that none of his worst fears came true. He freed up a hand to stroke Ailuros and adjusted himself slightly so that she could join the hug, appreciating her care concern.
He noticed that Professor Brooding hadn’t mentioned his family, particularly. She had said that if people were mean to her, they were not good people. And he agreed. If people did the things she’d said, he would fight them. Even Professor Skies, if he had to. And she had said that if his friends rejected him they were bad friends… That was harder to take on board. He could see that was true in that if someone was unkind that was being a bad friend, but he found it harder to believe he would just be able to shrug his shoulders and accept it. And there was a big difference, wasn’t there, between Professor Brooding having to put up with some horrid teenager she barely knew (Simon Mordue sprang to mind) being mean to her and his family rejecting him? Horrible as it was, wrong as it was, it was easy to write Simon off. He didn’t matter.
“My family aren’t bad people,” he explained, his voice small and sad - for all that it was a protest at what she had said, it simply sounded lost and upset, “My Mama is sweet and kind. My sister too. She is my best friend before I came to school. I love them. And I’m supposed to be a good son.” He struggled, not feeling up to trying to explain about rén, and feeling lost and alone, sad that she wasn’t capable this time of simply understanding the way she usually did. He wondered whether Professor Brooding was picturing his family as cold and cruel based on what he had said. If so, he had done them an injustice, one which he now sought to correct. And one which made writing them off as bad people an impossible solution to the problem. That was not going to work. If they had all been like Matthieu, it would have. He could see that his brother was a horrible person, and what he thought didn’t matter, so long as Dorian stayed far enough out of his reach. But Mama and Émilie were not like that. “It’s important to me to be good to her,” he tried, so she didn’t start pushing the idea of how what he wanted mattered and how he had to make his own choices. He wanted to please his mother, and could not see what was strange or unnatural about that. She had brought him into the world. She had raised him. “You said it’s wrong to hurt people you love,” he pointed out.
13
Dorian
But how much is it going to hurt along the way?
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Dorian
0
5
Mary Brooding
January 14, 2019 6:45 PM
Undo! Backup! Reverse! Abort! by Mary Brooding
Mary grimaced, realizing with a big lump of dread that she shouldn't have used the example that she did. This wasn't exactly the time to admit that yes, sometimes people of non-normative sexual orientations were discriminated against in the work place. At the same time, she didn't want to lie to him."Deputy Headmistress Skies wouldn't do that," she said honestly. "I made that sound worse than I meant it. I'm a professor and I would not work at a school if I thought they'd kick out students for being human beings," she added. "I can absolutely guarantee you won't be without a place at Sonora, no matter what happens."
Mary was contemplative, and well aware of her own sad heart coming to the surface. There were bubbles in her chest that threatened to come out as long-dried tears or as awkward giggles. Neither was appropriate.
"You are a lovely person," Mary said, smiling at him. "You are not a bad person for being scared. This is a big change in your life and a new part of who you are. It's okay to feel everything you're feeling and when this all settles down, you'll look back and know that you never had to worry about some of these things. You're so brave and I really do promise that everything is okay.
Think about this. I say that if your friends stop being your friends because you like boys, then they weren't very good friends, right? You say that they are good friends and it's hard for you to think of them that way? Well, then that won't happen!" She took a moment to consider her logic and decided that it was pretty sound. "That doesn't make it easy if someone is mean to you," she said, "but it also means it isn't your fault. You haven't done anything wrong."
The part about family was harder, as she had very little to relate to on that level. Tabitha's family wasn't totally awful, and it sounded like Dorian's might not be quite as kind in some member. "You said that your mama and sister are kind, good, loving people? They will have no problems then. That doesn't mean they won't be surprised, maybe, and they might even be worried about you, but they won't be disappointed in you."
Mary sighed to herself and sort of shrank into her chest. Leaning away from Dorian to look at him more wholly and separate herself from the kind side for a moment.
"I cannot promise that this will be easy," she said. "I can promise that it will be okay. Some people are mean, some people are kind, just like with anything else. You never owe anybody any part of your identity. If you don't want to tell somebody, even your family or friends, you don't have to. If you want to tell them, but don't want to tell them yet, that's okay too. And if you ever need any help, you have a lot of people here that are happy to talk to you, hug you, and answer any questions they can." She cocked her head at him. "Do you know that you are cared about, Dorian? Because you really truly are."
22
Mary Brooding
Undo! Backup! Reverse! Abort!
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Mary Brooding
0
5
Dorian
January 15, 2019 8:40 PM
Come back! by Dorian
"Ok," Dorian nodded, when Professor Brooding assured him that he wasn't about to be kicked out. "And are any of those other things going to happen? To you?" he asked, noticing that she had only really answered regarding his fate.It was nice to hear that he was brave. It was even nicer to hear that it was ok to be scared, because that definitely felt much more like something he could relate to right now. He did not feel very brave, avoiding admitting his feelings and sitting here with tear-stained cheeks. 'Scared of absolutely everything' seemed a much more accurate description than 'brave' and it was nice to know that Professor Brooding thought there was nothing wrong with feeling that way, and some of his fear was reasonable.
Her logic about the rest of it seemed somewhat circular. There will only be problems if they are not good people. You think they are good people, so there won't be problems... And yet, if it was that simple, why was he so worried? He wasn't sure of their reactions. He could see certain reasons to be hopeful, but he could also doubt those would be enough. He was fairly sure his mother would be disappointed, in spite of what Professor Brooding said. What he needed was a world view that allowed for a negative reaction but still let him view his mother as a good person. Or some way of making sure that, when he told her, it would definitely be ok. Or some way of dealing with it not being. He could keep telling himself bad things would not happen but it was small comfort when he was fairly sure they very much could. Professor Brooding kept saying it would be ok. It would definitely all be ok in the end. He wished they could skip to that point. Or at least, he could know when it would be, so he could count it down, know how much more pain and turmoil he had to deal with.
"I know," he assured her earnestly, when she assured him he was cared about. "And I am very glad to have you both," he assured her and Ailuros, giving the kneazle a little scratch behind the ears. He did not want Professor Brooding to think he was unappreciative, and he knew how it hurt his own heart when he couldn't comfort the people who mattered to him and make them happy again. "It will be ok" he repeated, managing a weak smile. "I...I just wish it was all ok now. Or I at least knew when..."
He weighed up the options Professor Brooding had given him. It was reassuring to have options but also somewhat scary. When there were choices, you could make the wrong ones. He would much rather someone handed him a recipe, like they did for Potions, of definite steps with definite results. Of course, even with Potions, there was the risk you would get it wrong, and that it would blow up in your face... But at least you knew what you were supposed to be doing.
"I need to have a plan," he articulated out loud. His tone was a little calmer. This was not the wild world of crazy wishes, like wanting to know when it would all be over. Going with the flow, waiting and seeing what happened were valid options for some people but were being ruled out here. Dorian needed certainty, as much of it as he could grasp at. He tried to weigh up the things Professor Brooding had said, but his thoughts kept swirling around in the realm of if and then.
"If you were me, what would you do next?" he asked.
13
Dorian
Come back!
1401
Dorian
0
5
Mary Brooding
January 23, 2019 9:51 PM
I'm always here. by Mary Brooding
Mary allowed her shoulders to relax, surprised by how much tension they'd in carrying through this conversation. She was certain that she was projecting, or possibly just confronting some of her old demons, but Dorian seemed so familiar today that she was sure they could be the same person. She hoped that she'd be as kind as him someday, which was an odd thing to hope about a child but still. He was hardly a child these days."Definitely not," she reassured him, confident that she'd remain at Sonora at least. She was less positive that no one would think less of her for her sexual orientation, but that hardly bothered her anymore so she saw no need to worry Dorian over it. What was definitely true was that she had loving, kind, wonderful colleagues who were probably decent people too.
One time, Mary had terribly botched a shrinking potion and managed only to tightly pack the rags she was trying to fold small instead of actually shrinking it. When she'd remedied the mistake with an enlarging solution, she'd watched as the rag slowly took shape, growing and warming and relaxing. Watching Dorian's expression was either very much like watching the rag shrink or watching it grow, and Mary thought there was poetry in each.
"I wish I did too," she admitted when Dorian explained how nice it would be to know how things would turn out. Her thoughts turned to Michelle and JJ. Would she or Tabitha have liked to know how things would turn out before they had? Would it have changed anything? She only knew her own answer. "I like to think of life a bit like a good book. Even when parts of the story are sad or hard, I never ever want to turn ahead to see what happens. Part of the beauty in life is the hard things, even if they are hard, and the story is best left unspoiled."
As Dorian pondered what he needed to do next, Mary reminisced herself and mulled over what she knew of the other players in Dorian's life story. Before she could come to any one particular thought about any of it, he asked her a question that she was pretty sure she shouldn't answer. There's too much power in answering a question like that, especially when her role naturally placed her in a position of authority over Dorian. It wasn't appropriate to suggest anything because there would simply be too much weight behind it. He had to make this decision himself.
"I am not sure what it's like to be you," she began, speaking carefully. There was a thoughtfulness on her face that belied her conflicted feelings, even if there was no sadness or heartache there. She was just thoughtful. "But I think a plan is a good idea. It's hard to say what's the right plan for you because anyone else would do it differently." She wondered how much she could help, though. It seemed worse to leave him hanging. "I think that I would want to know what I could live with. Whether I would rather live with questions and uncertainty, and risk not knowing how the object of my affection felt about me, or whether I would rather live with the sadness of unrequited love, but know precisely how things were. What will help you sleep at night?"
She pondered for a moment to consider whether her next words were true. "The absolute worst thing that can reasonably happen if you talk to Jehan is that nothing changes," she said simply. "Jehan is a good person, and I think you know he wouldn't gossip about you or tell your family. Maybe that means he's a good person to talk to first, or maybe that means you can wait a little longer until you're sure of what you want to do."
22
Mary Brooding
I'm always here.
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Mary Brooding
0
5
Dorian
January 26, 2019 10:39 PM
Good by Dorian
Nothing bad was going to happen to Professor Brooding. That was one less thing to worry about. Well… that was one thing to worry less about. He wasn’t sure he could stop worrying altogether. He didn’t know whether this meant she didn’t plan on announcing her engagement to the whole student body or whether she just had more faith in them than he did. He hoped it was the former, but he knew he couldn’t have input into those decisions.“That’s a good way of looking at it,” he smiled, when she compared life to a book. He would write that down when he got back to Teppenpaw. The notebook Tatiana had brought him in second year had been put into service to write down things he wanted to remember. He found that, when he wanted to recall conversations he had had with people, he couldn’t call to mind the exact words and phrases they had used which had pleased him - a side-effect, perhaps, of having to operate in his less confident language most of the time. Given the musical notes on its cover, it had started as thoughts from him MARS room meetings with Jehan. Opinions of Jehan’s he had liked, or nice thoughts he had shared about Dorian or their friendship or their future. When Tatya had called him brave, that had gone in the book too. Last year, more and more of its pages had been dedicated to the wisdom of Professor Brooding. And when he felt unsure or worried or just didn’t like himself very much, he was finding more and more that there was usually something in the book that helped.
When she began her next answer with a tactful comment about not being in his shoes, he felt his insides clench. He didn’t want her to side step this and just remind him how it was his decision. He wanted help. He wanted to know. He didn’t want to make his own choices because there were too many and they were frightening and sometimes he spent what felt like hours stood in front of the library shelves almost wishing all but one book would just vanish because making decisions was just really, really hard. But then, she started putting it into questions for him to answer. And whilst a part of him wished she could just hand him a simple ten step plan for not screwing his life up, that had always been a fairly unlikely possibility. At least she was willing to point him in the right direction.
“Sleeping potion?” he suggested with a smile, when she asked what would help him sleep at night, “Not really. I don’t-” he had been about to say ‘don’t not sleep’ but that sounded so clumsy, and even though he thought English might allow such ugliness it still sounded messy and potentially confusing, “I am sleeping ok. The rest… I will think about,” he decided. He wasn’t sure what his actual answer was, and each possibility that ran through his mind, each comment to her comment was sprouting more, faster than heads on a hydra. But he needed to appreciate the advice he was being given, to slow down enough to actually think it through and have answers to those questions rather than to just throwing more and more panic her way. It wasn’t fair to do that and to not listen to what came back to him, especially as her advice was usually good.
He sat back a little, returning to the room at large, rather than the claustrophobic space of his own head, and the little bubble he had shrunk things down to, of him clinging to Professor Brooding. His eyes came to the open gift still on the desk beside them and he was jolted back to where this conversation had started, and wasn’t quite sure how they’d ended up here instead, with him crying and panicking, when they had been talking about something so warm and lovely.
“Sorry…” he apologised, his eyes on the red robe, “We… were supposed to be being happy. I didn’t mean to… “ he wasn’t sure of the correct phrase in English, “to steal the conversation,” he tried. “That was selfish.”
13
Dorian
Good
1401
Dorian
0
5