Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

James Weatherby XIV (night_rhythm) wrote in st_margarets,

James' look of confusion gradually smoothed from his features. Mr. Farrowe knew, and James knew how he knew. More importantly, Mr. Farrowe knew that James knew to what he was referring. Continuing to pretend otherwise would be a waste of time. There was still a way to play this to his advantage, and since Valentin had already thrown the first punch, James would follow suit.

A sigh of exasperation that was almost sincere was released from his lungs and James sat heavily on the chair, rubbing his brow. "I was hoping he wouldn't try to smear my name like this. I thought he was different, a good person... but I should have known, shouldn't I?" James looked up at Mr. Farrowe with a half smile like someone might look at a person they were confiding a shared frustration with.

"I did approach Valentin in the restroom while he was showering. I was concerned for him after a very brief and dismissive conversation we had after he returned from Germany. I was also a bit hurt that he acted so coldly towards me. I know something happened to him while he was gone, and I thought, as leader of the support group, that I should try to reach out to him. What else is the support group for but to offer its support, yes?" James shook his head. He leaned back wearily.

"But he was so... defensive. So closed off. I understand that whatever happened to him, whomever he attacked," James' eyes narrowed slightly, "was his story to tell, but he's a friend of mine. We're in the same House, we're both in the same year, we're both vampires. I like to think that friends reach out to each other and press in times of need. I pressed. It's not something he would have done for me, clearly, were our situations reversed, but I pressed because I cared."

James shifted again, leaning forward to clasp his hands together, rub them against his thighs, summon emotion into his voice and avert his gaze from Mr. Farrowe. "He became increasingly agitated when I persisted in extending help. He said some... horrible things about me." James shook his head and looked down at the floor. "I'm sure you are aware of some of the things I struggle with because of what I am, the things I've done I can't undo, my brother..." James closed his eyes tightly and went quiet for a moment.

When he spoke again, his voice was strained. "Valentin doesn't know me. He doesn't want to know me. He sees what he sees on the surface, in the media, and he makes his judgement. They all do. But he had no right to callously called me a killer. There I was, offering my hand in friendship and brotherhood, and he spat in my face and told me in no uncertain terms that he wanted none of the group's help. And so..." James shrugged and pulled a cloth handkerchief from an inner pocket of his jacket to quickly wipe his eyes. He sniffed.

"It was with great hurt and sadness that I had to accept his rejection of help and withdraw. Whatever happened to Valentin changed him. I'd be afraid he'd unleash his vitriol on another member of the support group if I gave him another chance. He might judge them like he judged me and instead of supporting our universal struggle as vampires, turn his back and belittle other members of my group and I can't allow that. Some of them are on very thin lines of control and my group of their peers is their only safe haven from the judgement of the world. Valentin would mock them for having tasted human blood, as though it's a moral sin, and..." James straightened up, shoulders back and resolute. "And I will not sit back and let that happen. Valentin is your problem now. My group has washed our hands of him."