The Margins Collective — Prologue club pv finished

xxxxxxxx𝓐 light tune whistled through the willows as Evpraksiya hummed Rachmaninoff’s Vocalise absentmindedly, the lace of her white dress just barely skimming the flowers leaning upward to face the glorious midday sun. The dress, a confection of gauzy fabric layered over soft silk, seemed almost too fine for the grass beneath it—its bodice trimmed with delicate embroidery in clean silver, the sleeves sheer and gathered neatly at her wrists with satin ribbons. A wide sash of pale green cinched her waist, its bow falling in long tails that fluttered faintly in the breeze. The ensemble, finished with a sun hat of ivory straw resting against her back on a silken cord and kid-leather slippers peeking from the hem of her dress, made her into a figure plucked from a pastoral painting.

It had been a few weeks since she’d listened to Elena speak about her ideas for the club, the meeting structure, the color schemes (if nothing else, she could certainly appreciate how thorough her friend was), and the posters that had been neatly scattered throughout the school. After all the effort the Ravenclaw had put into it, Evpraksiya decided the very least she could do was show up to support her—and if she’d invited a few more people then it was no one’s business but her own.

Finally catching sight of the other blonde, Evpraksiya approached with unhurried steps, her resplendent hair catching the breeze as she settled herself beside the Ravenclaw to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Elena’s anxieties were as plain to her as the daisies scattered in the grass, and though the shade of the willow’s leaves flickered across the girl’s face, Evpraksiya could see the strain in her friend’s posture, the way her fingers worried at the bark of the willow tree.

“Elena,” she said softly, her voice carrying the calm assurance of someone who had already decided there was no cause for embarrassment. “It’s lovely. You’ve thought of everything—the books, the sweets, even the quill. Anyone would be charmed to sit here.”

Or they would, if they knew what was best for them. Evpraksiya had spent the entirety of her first year building up her social networks just for them to fail her now. Dear, that would be embarrassing.

Settling her skirts neatly, she gave her friend a reassuring glance, her smile subdued but genuine. “You needn’t look at your watch so anxiously. I'm here, and others will come. And if they do not, then you and I shall have the books to ourselves—I for one, cannot imagine better company to share them with.”

In the back of her mind, Evpraksiya sighed at the idea of having to openly invite people to an event hosted by a half-blood—she’d have to explain that to Nadezhda later, but if it ended up being a success, she found no reason her sister would scold her for it.

Her hand drifted toward the overflowing basket, fingertips deftly picking up the quill. “Now,” she continued, her tone brightening with a touch of gentle curiosity, “tell me—what role do you need me to fill?”

september 20 2025 | daytime
banner by elena clark

english | french | thoughts
gif by ava winchect

Staring into the void was probably not the best way to appear welcoming. Then again, neither was glaring at the castle's archway. Or doing nothing. AH. Why on earth did I think this would be a good idea again? The raven was halfway between the dreadful thought that no one would show up and she'd sit here like the foolish girl she was, and the dreadful thought that people would indeed show up and she'd have to actually talk to them, and smile, and lead a godforsaken club meeting. Inwardly praying one of her friends, or at the very least an acquaintance, would have the good idea to arrive early, her fingers were frantically scratching her inner forearm in an attempt to soothe herself. Lost in thought, she stifled a breath when navy eyes spotted a figure looming behind the arch. Heavens. Please don't be a stranger, please don't be a stranger—

A breath she immediately released when ivory-blonde hair peeked out, Sacramento eyes finding her own in seconds. As if her presence had an innate impact on her, Elena's shoulders let go of the tension that had inhabited them a few seconds prior, and her fingers relaxed, raising in the air instead to wave at the newcomer. Relief wasn't a strong enough word—she felt an overwhelming urge to hug her until every last thread of air escaped their lungs. Evpraksiya, undoubtedly aware of the tension engulfing her, settled by her side and placed a delicate hand on her shoulder, a soothing gesture that only slowed further the frantic beating of her heart. Squeezing it in return, Elena gave her friend a grateful smile, focusing solely on breathing in and out while the doll by her side spoke comforting words. Whatever awaited, she knew she could face it if Evpraksiya stood by her side.

A chuckle escaped her, and she leaned into her friend's embrace, resting her head on Ev's shoulder for a second—a soft nudge, akin to that of a cat. "I can only agree," she nodded, plucking a stray thread from her chocolate-brown sweater. "Thank you," she added after a second, sincerity permeating every inflection of her voice, "your presence means a lot to me." Few knew how to appease her the way she could—it was almost uncanny how keenly aware of Elena's every thought she was. A light laugh rose as she bent to snatch the quill away from her friend's grasp before setting it neatly back down. "None, is your answer. You are to simply rest and enjoy." She patted her friend's arm the way one would with a puppy, but before she could continue, she sensed a presence approach, making her heart rate quicken again.

Smoothing down her pleated skirt, she took a breath and flashed what she hoped was a welcoming smile at the looming shadow. Messy brown hair, a slightly awkward posture, and deep blue eyes—a familiar sight, which took her a few seconds to place. "Damien," she waved back, gesturing for him to sit down. "I'm most pleased to see you again! How have you been since we last talked?" Taking note of the strange object he dragged behind him yet restraining herself from inquiring about it, she looked up as another figure approached.

Short hair, brown skin, emerald eyes—the warmth of a sunlight-bathed forest and the gentle waves of a lake. A freckled girl was standing before them, lips curved in a friendly smile as she started talking. It took Elena a few seconds to process, as she was still lost in the bliss—someone I don't know just came to my club!!! Me!! My club!! And I don't know them!!!—of learning her ideas were actually heard and appreciated, and some unknown students had answered her call. "I am, and it is," she responded, beaming, "I am delighted to meet you, thank you for coming." Gesturing for her to take a place, she nodded, "Absolutely! It is a book club after all. And thank you for asking, but just settle and enjoy! I am still waiting for the rest to arrive before I really dive into the matter. May I ask your name?"

Spotting another person arriving behind, she squinted slightly, trying to make out their shape in the sun’s brilliance. Long brown hair, with two white strands that framed striking hazel eyes—the stranger evoked slow mornings, warm tea, and rose petals to the raven. Lingering on the side, she seemed too shy to walk in, which the honey-haired could perfectly understand. Waving back at her, Elena flashed a serene smile and called out, "Hi there! I am Elena, are you here for the club? Please, settle in, there's plenty of space."

Before she could inquire her name, yet another girl with brown waves and hazel eyes appeared. Quiet and subtle, her soft features reminded her of water lilies in full bloom gently floating away, or those morning dew pearls of silver water. Settling quietly at the edge of the blanket, she caused a slight frown to crease the smooth forehead of the raven, worried she might feel set aside. "Hi," she reached out, waving gently. "Thank you for coming, could I ask your name? I'm Elena. Nice to meet you."

Feeling beyond content to see even more people arriving, she tilted her head up to face a cascade of silver-blonde hair framing two electric blue eyes—lilac butterflies and polaroid cameras, with a dazzle of… raspberry? Noting her interest in the baked goods nestled at the center of the layer of blankets, Elena returned her smile, gesturing for her to come closer. "Hello! Of course, take any spot you'd like. I'm Elena, and you are...?"

The next person arrived so silently the raven barely noticed it. He was sitting fairly close to her own spot, yet seemed to have chosen it precisely for its distance from the rest. The golden and olive hues of his eyes were darkened by the blatant disinterest in existing he wore, absentmindedly running his slender fingers through the remarkably long brown waves framing his face. He seemed akin to a tortured poet—late-night walks, a crow taking flight, and ink dripping down a thought-filled journal—and Elena was hesitating to reach out. "Hi," she smiled, speaking softly. "My name is Elena, glad you could make it."

The blonde was feeling slightly overwhelmed by the little crowd that had begun to form, and questioned whether or not she should start right away. Would it be pretentious to wait a little more, should more readers arrive? Glancing at Evpraksiya, she tilted her head slightly. "Do you reckon I should begin?" she whispered in a low tone, glancing at the arch to try and see if more people were coming through.

「 O P H E L I A date • 20 sep 2025 507 • word count speech • #427c9a italics • thoughts 」

Ophelia, antisocial as she was, had somehow made her way into a couple of literature centered clubs and student led organisations during her time at Hogwarts so far. A coincidence? Definitely not. The girl had been careful about the announcements on the bulletin board that she'd paid attention to, making sure to spend her time wisely on activities that were of interest to her, and anyone could tell that the young Northwell was nothing if not an avid reader and focused writer. She'd been telling and hearing stories since she'd been but a little girl toddling around in her family's Dublin home, and those habits she carried with her still.

But eventually, whether it was Ophelia's own interest in the club fading over time, or the organisers realising that they had much else to do rather than to plan and keep up with meetings, most clubs had faded from the Ravenclaw girl's life. She'd been weary of joining more since her first year, afraid that they would all disappear. But something about this particular organisation had caught the girl's eye from early on. The organiser was a Ravenclaw herself, for one thing. Her house, Ophelia had come to learn in the three years that she'd spent here, was reliable, familiar. They were her people, and she could count on them. Beyond that, it seemed quite well organised, and seeing all the posters around the school had made her curious of the happenings, if nothing else.

So here the girl was, making her way to the informational meeting located at the Great Lake. She'd dressed nicely, wanting to make a good impression on whoever all it was that she was about to meet. A grey knit sweater and one of the nicest pairs of denim pants that she owned. The walk over to the lake was spent in the usual distress that Ophelia experienced before doing something that wasn't approved of by her social anxiety. The spiraling questions, the slight hesitation in her step. But she made it, finding that the meeting spot described had been set up quite nicely as a little picnic, complete with sweet treats and, of course, reading material! There seemed to be a few people already present, and Ophelia began to worry whether she was late. She hoped not, arriving late would not be a good impression for the first meeting.

Ophelia approached hesitantly, ready to run back to the castle at any moment. But once she was far enough, she knew she couldn't head back anymore. Surely someone must've sighted her approach by now. The Ravenclaw made a quick assessment of everyone present. She recognised some, others she only knew the name of, and a few, she couldn't even place at all. Deciding that she'd play it safe for now, Ophelia smiled at one of her summer camp tentmates, Elisa. She took a spot next to the girl in question, and then tried to pay attention to what was going on.

Had the meeting begun already, or were they still doing introductions?

interactions • @Elena Clark @Elisa Wagner + open!