InsaneJournal

RP Narrative; Emmeline.
Who: Emmeline Vance and a Portkey.
Where: Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Transportation - Portkey Office. Then Iceland.
When: Early morning (office hours) of 20 November 1979.
What: Breathing space.

Rating: PG for mild language.
Status: Complete.

She had plenty of oxygen. Logic dictates that a room full of other individuals breathing properly that she too should be able to breathe properly. Yet Emmeline felt as if she had to force air into her lungs, taking tremendous effort just to keep breathing. She should know better than to do this. She knew that. But her steps led her to this office, unknown faces peering at her curiously as she asked for a Portkey to Iceland. (She thought of France but she never really wanted to run away to somewhere too familiar to everyone else. She always thought that if she ever ran away, it would be someplace where no one knew her at all. Maybe she would be able to start with a blank slate for once.) "Iceland? Interesting place for a impromptu work break," the man from behind the desk said conversationally as he signed off on a request form with a flourish. Emmeline barely managed a wan smile before replying, in what she hoped was a very uninteresting and generic way, that she had always wanted to visit the Eyjafjallajökull glacier. She didn't really. Truth be told, Iceland was a stop. It would be easier to Apparate from there to America. Or maybe Canada. Perhaps she should just abandon the whole thing and ask for a Portkey to Australia? That country was as far as she could go from the UK. Emmeline fidgetted with the small travelling bag she managed to charm to fit most of her belongings before nervously pushing her hair from her face. This was the right decision. It was the rational decision. This war was going nowhere, people end up dying on both sides--no one really winning or benefitting. Just blood. Blood everywhere she set foot on. God, the smell of it still stings her nose-- No. Emmeline had to focus. This was important. She was not panicking, she was making an informed decision. Especially after what Pepper wrote, it was a relatively logical decision to make. It wasn't easy. Fuck. It was never going to be easy. She was barely eighteen when she pledged to join the Order, vowed to do anything in her power to stop them. Emmeline had not spoken to any member of her family for the past two years and she was beginning to feel these negative emotions that she should not, in normal circumstances, feel for her parents, or her brother, or her sister. She lost someone she loved. She lost friends. And to what end? Death still plagued everyone, clinging to every single piece of news and information. People continued to cower and fear the unknown instead of facing it and breaking all the mysteries down (like they should be). What was the use of all these sacrifices when the community didn't want to be saved? Or if they refused to help save themselves? And this organisation that promised to spur change? It was breaking apart before her eyes, fragmenting into groups that bickered and fought instead of working towards a common goal. There were victories. Of course there were. They were bound to get something right after a while. But the consequences? What of the murder of innocents? Collateral damage. Emmeline thought she was more pragmatic than this. One death for the good of many. Hadn't she had a conversation with Sirius about this before? Well, her answer at that very moment (while the man behind the desk was happily writing several other slips of paper) was that she was not at liberty to decide who lived and who died. In the end, someone else died as a direct result of some "act of good" they have done. In the end, really, what was the point when they were all going to die eventually? Either they die in battle; they die when all reasoning and common sense flees from them and they decide to storm a Death Eater's home; they die in the crossfire; they get sucked dry by vampires; they get mauled by werewolves. They die. Tears prickled at the edges of her eyes and Emmeline wiped at them absent-mindedly before sucking a breath in. She had to get away. Put things back into perspective. She needed to see where her actions had led her and why she was still doing this; why she was still fighting if all was really that futile. And within this mess, amidst all the fighting and the news, and the deaths, perspective wasn't something that came easily. Therefore, Emmeline reasoned, this technically wasn't running away. It was--it was searching for another place to think. "You alright there?" the man asked as he rummaged inside one of the many desk drawers before pulling out a rusty watering can, "You seemed out of sorts. Quite sure you want to travel today?" "Quite sure, thanks," Emmeline said firmly. "Your choice," he shrugged and handed her the watering can, "It'll be leaving in approximately ten minutes. So if you would kindly step out into the Atrium, there should be spots where you can Portkey out safely." With a perfunctory smile, he ushered her out of the office and into the lifts. She just needed some time, is all. Dorcas probably needed to know where she was but that would make her have a reason to come back. She needed to have no ties for now. Perhaps an owl? Then go off the map for a while, probably rent a house in the middle of nowhere and... think. Maybe this was why Emmeline found this decision so daunting, she wasn't entirely sure how she would end up choosing between a new life and this continuing resistance. Perhaps she was scared of choosing incorrectly (who wasn't?) and she would end up regretting the outcome or the rest of her life. Maybe she would regret not staying to fight; maybe she would regret not getting out when she had the chance. Both option were plausible, both realistic--all the more reason why she needed the time to think. Emmeline stood in a corner of the atrium, staring at her feet and looking as blank as ever. How did people manage to decide these things within the space of a minute? A second? She could never understand how impulse accounted for decisions, especially ones as important as these. There were morals, she knew that. But morals weren't fixed, material things; they were changeable and fluctuated along a continuum. So how would she know that she made the right choice? She breathed in deeply, finding it more easily done now that she was in a much bigger space. After another look around the Ministry, Emmeline took in one last glance at the Fountain of Magical Brethren, blinked, and she was sucked into nothingness.