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Post by rolandmendraka on Dec 7, 2011 15:58:52 GMT -6
Roland wasn't going to let himself get caught up in history again, and going down his list he knew she was going to be the hardest one to apologize to. Especially since their fling had ended just before he had gone missing in action to find his dead brother. Even if she didn't understand his reasoning, Roland was going to try making this work somehow. The cold, November wind easily blew towards him and there was no turning back as he kept moving forwards. Whatever made him do this was certainly almost like suicide in a way that he never thought possible. Wearing a new black cloak he had gotten with the provisions a few other friends had lent him seemed to be working well for him.
Roland was glad that his second friend hadn't been as prude as his first, who had literally sold him off for dead in the first place. Thinking that this wasn't going to be easy, he had his wand out to prepare for the worst onslaught of attacks as he had to say his name first. Otherwise the knocks at the door would go unheard, but it was also very rare for Roland to even visit his friends in general ever since faking his own death. Turmoil had brought utter chaos and destruction to his family name, and his mother lives on while he never will get to rejoice with his younger brother ever again. Any sympathy he had back then was lost now, and he had already had time to cry out his tears for his lost kin. There had been fifteen years and every year on the anniversary of his death was the hardest time on him.
Roland had to embrace the cold feeling of the wind rushing around his garb as his clean-shaven face brought back his many childhood memories of how he always kept clean-shaven no matter what he was doing. Roland had found the itch of his facial hair to be a pain in the ass, and would always complain to many of his friends about it. Sadly, he now had the opportunity to just use his magic to continually shave so that he kept up a professional appearance. Finally pushing back the hood on his cloak and letting the wind whip up into his face blowing his short brown hair back out of his eyes. Not that was in his eyes in the first place, but it usually felt like it. Green eyes scanned the area in front of him and slowly he walked up towards the house known as the Paxton residence. Only knowing of one that lived here, but she could have found a significant other in the time she had been away.
Roland was just guessing if she was home or not, but if he knew the staff at all the weekends usually were rather freed on her schedule. From what he recalled, Sundays were still a lazy day even for wizards in the Wizarding world these days. Roland soon let his work boots trudge up towards the front step as his blue jeans gave him the appearance of an average traveler just looking for a place to stay. Warm wool gloves accompanied his hand as a headband covered his ears to make sure he was properly dressed for this colder weather. Finally, he knocked three times on the door and waited for an answer while saying his name. Roland had only found out about where Taylor lived thanks to a few references he had visited first of all. Now as he knocked on the door, he basically gave away who it was, "Hello!? It's me, Roland, I know you haven't seen me in a long time and think I'm dead I've got a really good explanation for that though," he said as he didn't stop knocking until she answered the door.
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