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Post by AURORE LESTRANGE on Dec 31, 2009 21:45:12 GMT -8
OH MY IT'S , AURORE DELPHINA LESTRANGE
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It's Just Me Against The World Today
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HELLO THERE, VERY NICE TO MEET YOU! COULD YOU TELL ME YOUR NAME AND IT'S MEANING, IF AT ALL POSSIBLE? THEN I WOULDN'T AT ALL MIND KNOWING YOUR BLOOD STATUS, BIRTHDAY AND AGE. CHEERS! - - - - - - - - - - -
Aurore glanced up at the interrogator. She sneered, the kid wasn't even over the age of 21 and he was all high and mighty. Did this idiot even know what side he was playing? Did he know that his actions had consequences? Or was this some fucking summer job that his dad signed him up for? "Actually, I'd rather not. See I know you probably think that I was involved with that anti pureblood registration act protest, just because I am friends with those people, but I can honestly say I am not." And she was telling the truth. But the Ministry believed more in coincidence than the truth. Aurore pulled her necklace from her neck and gnawed on the sterling silver in impatience. "Right then, I suppose you -do- already have my name there somewhere, after all. Aurore Delphina Lestrange. It's old french, I believe. Roughly translates to the dawn of the strangers. My father wanted to give me a strong name to make up for the fact that I wasn't a son. He must of been prophetic to foresee that I would indeed be forced on the forefront of this great debate raging in the wizarding world. Or it was just a fucking coincidence, since divination is a bunch of bullshit"
DUDE, THATS INTERESTING - WHAT HOUSE WERE YOU IN? OR WHAT HOUSE ARE YOU IN? AND MY OH MY YOUR WAND - WHAT IS IT MADE OUT OF? - - - - - - - - - - -
"I'm in Hufflepuff. Suprised? Just because I'm friends with a few Slytherins doesn't mean I was involved. I have a lot of friends, I'm a very personable person." She snorted at her own response. Her bad attitude also made her a lot of enemies, but this pencil neck didn't need to know that. "And if that's your way of beating around the bush about father, then yeah. Just because Rabastan was a Death Eater, doesn't mean I am. Both my mother and I were not sorted in to Slytherin at all. I'm sure if you just call Gwenog up, she'll tell you what's what." Her mother would probably go up in an uproar if she heard this. Even though she'd left home a year ago, any news of her in trouble would send her in a frenzy. And Gwenog would try and do something about it too. Sometimes it seemed like she was the wolf in her family and everyone else the lambs. "Now I have a class to get to, do you think I can leave this interrogation room? Or am I going to go out in handcuffs like my father did, for being friends with the wrong people?"
RIIIIGHT SO UHM WHATS YOUR SEXUALITY AND ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN? WHATS COOKING IN THE LOVE NEST? - - - - - - - - - - -
What was cooking in her love nest? She wanted to kick this pea-brain right in the nutsack, but that would be a god damned offense against humanity, just because she was a Lestrange. Aurore glanced at her black and silver wristwatch, she'd be late if she didn't leave now. But of course, the Ministry has ways to send you places faster. And while they are sending you along your way they'll just kick the living daylights out of you to make sure you don't do bad things again. "Don't you have it in that file? Doesn't the Ministry know everything? Apparently not. Loose lips sink ships, I'd rather not let you know who I have...affections for. I won't drag anybody to hell with me when you guys finally get around to affixing the muzzle"
ALRIGHT SO NOW WE'RE CLOSE AND EVERYTHING IS OUT IN THE OPEN I'M GOING TO HAVE A LOOK AT YOUR PERSONALITY. WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME YOUR FEARS, LOVES, HATES ETC.
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He's trying to make me open up. What a dickhead. As if. Last time someone in the family spoke to the Ministry they were practically driven out of the country. See 'Mother: Gwenog'.Silly interrogator. Fuck you if you think you're getting anything from me. "Well don't you have a sweet mouth." Fuck you. That's all I have to say. But of course, again, I can't say it. He probably thinks I'm some future fanatic or some shit like that. "Last time I checked I wasn't forced to be a Ministry supporter or to answer any of these questions..." She paused for dramatic effect, putting a finger to her lips with a quizzical look on her face, then acting as if she remembered something. "OH that's right! I am forced to support them. Well then all I can say is that the Ministry is not at fault for all the problems in Britain. It's those damned rebellious pureblood holdouts." She was going to ride this new kid until he understood what a real interrogation was. Where's the punches? Where's the threats? They'd really gone down hill with the torture aspect.
WOW, YOU ARE INTERESTING MAN. NOW TALK ABOUT A TOPIC THAT IS CLOSE TO YOU IN SOME DETAIL. - - - - - - - - - - -
"I don't know anything about the real rabble rousers. I'm only friends by association. Mutual. I'm not exactly close knit with fanatics. They're too crazy for me. Now let me go, please. I'd really like to go to class." She sat up a little in impatience. She was still nervous, hell even her ass was sweating right now, but any more time spent with this moron and she might make a move that that would get her in big trouble. Bending forward to put her elbows on the table she looked at the interrogator
SO, WHAT ABOUT FAMILY? WHERE DO YOU COME FROM? WHAT IS YOUR HISTORY AND DO YOU HAVE BROTHERS, SISTERS, AUNTS AND UNCLES? - - - - - - - - - - -
"So how do I begin? I mean after being so defensive, I'm sure you have a lot of questions. OK well first thing's first, I have to be honest, I started out supporting the Ministry. But I was like everyone else back then. I thought that we lived in a world free from the ghosts of the past. But I was wrong. Of course I was. The Potter-esque form of the Ministry took hold. Dad supported them. He was rich with money, and after the war, he wasn't. He knew that if he paid lip service, we'd all be better, and better meant he would actually get some profit to fill the coffers.. My mom was different. She was brilliant, my mom. I loved her so much more than my dad, or anyone in the family. She was always telling me about quidditch,telling me stories about history instead of fairy tales. But my mom always had problems, and some of them were bigger than I could ever imagine. Three years ago well, she just kind of disappeared. She was gone.
My dad, he was furious. Even though he knew he couldn't get her back, he still kept me, my brother, and my sister locked in the house and shoved Ministry loyalty down our throats. Even though he hated them for what they did to all of us, he told us that it's better to follow the rules then end up being taken and forgotten. I always knew my dad was a coward, but this time I kind of understood. I'd like to say that I wasn't easily influenced, but I was. I think that's it. That's all you need to know about me for now. Oh and if you ask me about that Malfoy creep, all I have to say is, if that asshole grabs my ass one more time I'll break my wand over his head and round kick his ass to never-ever-land.
I THINK THATS EVERYTHING, IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU WANT TO SAY BEFORE I GO? - - - - - - - - - - -
"The Ministry of Magic are just Death Eaters with different masks, and yesterday's victims are today's tormentors. Let that one stew and keep you up at night"
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THE ROLEPLAYING SAMPLE !
A woman, with strong, striking features and strangely unfitting soft tendrils of red hair approached the graves, booted feet crushing the gravel with her steady purposeful steps. She hadn't been to this place in two years, and she couldn't help but despise the fact that her return had been for all the wrong reasons. She could barely accept what it was she was going to see, for she had never stepped foot near the neat, lovingly tended graves before. She knew the McKinnons had arranged painstakingly to be left alone, to be left at peace.
“Shh, shh, precious, nearly there now.” She cooed over the baby held wrapped tightly in her arms. He was everything to her, little Ron. He was her youngest and was the only one of her boys who didn't know what losing a friend was like. It was the feeling of being completely cut off from the rest of the world. For those who had joined the Order had no one but each other, only grief riddled memories and futile, torturous regret Molly thanked God the child was never to know.
The graveyard was a beautiful place, Rory's tomb stood at the front, a proud, immaculate resting place for the patriarch of one of the only wizarding families to win universal love and respect, that was, Molly considered, from everyone with the prominent and extremely vocal exception of those who followed Voldemort.
She moved on, gasped aloud like an awestruck child at how beautiful everything was, how touching the final gesture as a monument to those who had died to make a better world for their friends. The tombstones were all highly individual, fashioned to reflect the figure who lay beneath the marker, yet they was a touch of uniformity in the gleaming white marble stones that sprouted from the earth that reminded any person to pass by of how they had all fought for the same side.
She passed the names, squeezed her eyes to shut for the tears for their were too many to bear. Too many, too young. She murmured the names to herself as she passed by. Edana McKinnon. A laughing mask cut to look as if it were carved from porcelain jutted out from the top, winking and wolf-whistling over and over – the woman couldn't suppress a reluctant laugh. Rory's wife had always been so full of joy, even if her jokes were a little inappropriate. Darcy McKinnon. Molly paused, nipping her lip to bite back the tears as she joggled the baby in her arms at the sight of a gravestone. A child's toy, a teddy bear, lay at the base, a note tied around his neck that Molly could not bring herself to read. She spoke to herself. “Just a child' feeling close to tears for a stranger but held them back for she had waited to cry and was not to fall at the final hurdle.
She moved on more briskly, before any other names of the family who lay there could ensnare her attention. Then she reached the back row, where tucked in the corner she found what she was looking for
All Molly found herself able to say was perfect, spontaneous nonsense, 'our Marlene wouldn't of liked that would she, eh Ronald? She'd say 'i never did this for any personal glory'' And sometimes, sometimes I'd feel guilty for putting so much pressure on her. For not being right there fighting by her side. But I don't think Marlene would of wanted me to risk my family. I'm sure she didn't mean for any of this to happen”
Sometimes it hurt her to think about her friend for she had a fiery temper that was achingly reminiscent of her own. The woman who lay buried in the ground beneath her. She staggered back, wiping away floods of tears she had kept held back for all the gushing, sympathetic friends, all those who fondly gave thanks and gratitude for people she knew she would never see again.
She felt like she wanted to choke, thought she'd drop the baby as she was overcome with grief and so crumbled to her knees, pressing the child to her breast. All she cared about was the fact that life was cruel, life was achingly bitter and without mercy and had chosen to punish those who were the least deserving, she wailed and mourned for how life had snatched away somebody whose life had only just began.
It was only then that Molly realized somebody else was here, silently screaming with frustration for the officials who had promised her privacy.She clamped a hand to restrain a cry of outrage for the presence of one she had known to fight against them all, eyes accepting the image of a Black mourning as greatly as he ever had.
Molly spoke down to him uselessly clinging to the flowers she had painstakingly collected together for her friend's grave as they began to droop, her voice wavering from shock for sighting an image she had never thought she'd see. That of a Black fully deserving of pity. “I'm sorry Regulus, I didn't know that you even cared about her. Where did you go? Why are you back?” .
Word Count: 915 Tagged: Reg & Molly Music: Slipped Away - Avril Lavigne Notes: So sad
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ALL ABOUT: AISLING/ASHLEIGH/ASHBO !
HEY DID YOU KNOW I AM TWENTY YEARS OLD!? AND I HAVE BEEN ROLEPLAYING FOR TEN YEARS ALSO FOR THE RECORD I FOUND YOU BY VIA THE TWINNIES AND YOU CAN CONTACT ME VIA: MSN BYEEE!
FOR THE RECORD, THIS BEAUTIFUL BABY WAS MADE BY COMMUNIST DAUGHTER?! OF CAUTION 2.0 IF YOU STEAL IT THEN I FEAR FOR YOUR LIFE MATE ;D.
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Post by THE SORTING HAT on Jan 1, 2010 22:49:46 GMT -8
ACCEPTED. -insert applause here- face claim, etc. get to posting.
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