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Old 01-31-2021, 10:32 PM   #13 (permalink)
BanaBatGirl


Dark Force Defense League

MO & DoM
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Join Date: May 2007
Location: Gotham
Posts: 50,941

Hogwarts RPG Name:
William W. Williamson
Graduated

Student Character:
Bernadette O. Grantham
Sixth Year
Gryffindor

Ministry RPG Name:
Duncan M. Fletcher III
Minister's Office

Ministry RPG Name:
David O. Truebridge
Mysteries
Default
Professor Pink | Mrs. Bruce Wayne | I'm on a Goat | Glitterpuff | Evil Twin | #DancingQueen | BHB

Quote:
Originally Posted by Zoe View Post
The sensation, flicking through memories, it all was more than familiar to Dante. He had seen many glimpses of memories until he feel upon what he needed, though of course under very different circumstances. This was quite different, he had to admit, searching for a memory of someone who willingly let him in, someone he oddly enough respected.

Not much attention was focused on the memories that flicked past. Learning how to fly, running around with some girl, a brief moment with another that he quickly skipped, a potions lab, it all was irrelevant to him. What he needed was something that resembled the Ministry or anything that connected with the few details that Truebridge had shared with him before.

The memories then seemed to happen in reverse and stopped changing the moment he, mentally, was looking down at a pair of white gloves from Truebridge's perspective. Let's backtrack a little, Truebridge, his voice sounded, almost as if he was whispering in the man's ear. Do you remember what you were doing before? What caused you to be in this room originally? It was a starting point they needed so he could pinpoint the exact moment this particular memory started to fade away into nothing until the white gloves became a vivid recollection.
The voice freaked Davie out a little, he had to admit, even though he'd experienced something similar before. Of course, that had been a long time ago, and he had to try not to think of that time now when he was being guided by Zabini. Instead, he hyperfocused his sapphire blue eyes and thought about being in the room at the Ministry.

A book! The memory of his sitting there with a book slowly faded into his mind, though it was hazy, and it wasn't clear if it this memory was from the time when he'd been wearing the white gloves, or...? The memory shimmered and faded like it was floating on the surface of a pensieve and he couldn't grasp it. He tried, his hands clenching and unclenching on the chair in the Leaky, but it was... loose, at best.

So frustrating.

If only he could recall THIS DAY. WHY NOT THIS DAY. David could feel himself starting to berate himself for his brain's own failure.
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in the night I hear 'em talk the coldest story ever told ☆ _________________________________________
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somewhere far along this road ☆ he lost his soul to a woman so heartless __________________

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