Unspilled Ink
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| x | mentions ; @Korinna Nightshade | 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓯𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓹𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓭. |
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XXXXX𝕲et the butter, Brookline, the young Quinn sat there at her table, her iries trained on the pale gold creamed potatoes, Stop staring and grab the damn butter dish.
Late in bitter November, the Ravenclaw girl was picking at her potatoes, during the most pathetic supper in history, in severe cogitation, as she mentally spoke to herself. Brookline might have been goggling at her plate as well, as lusterless, cerulean pupils created foolish scenarios in the skull.
Brunette eyebrows arched, she sighed, the Ravenclaw girl didn't wholly fancy have people to have the impression that she was deep in thought or that she was quite unintelligent. Realistically, Brookline was yelling negatively in her head. Recklessly grabbing the crock of butter, causing her pointy elbow to knock in her neighbor's empty glass. Mouth stretched wide in a extreme ‘O’, she quickly snatched the goblet before it tumbled gracefully off the table.
“Sorry, lad,” Brookline practically hissed at the fellow Ravenclaw as she handed the glass to the other student in the next chair at the table.
Scooping a small tablespoon of butter into her mashed potatoes, Brookline swirled the sliver utensil around in a lopsided circle in the mash, trying to melt the golden shortening as quickly as the young girl could. The pure-blood twiddled around a heart-wrenching moment before she spooned a mouth-full and delivered it to her lips.
Brookline finished, and hopped out of her spot, making sure to shove the chair back in with a high-pitched clattering sound as the wooden chair clashed with the edge of the table. She grimaced tightly, teeth crashing against the lower set as she muttered suppressed, pitiful apology to those around her, the second eldest grimaced as she fled the scene, escaping to the safe Ravenclaw Common Room. She just desperately hoped she didn’t run in anyone she knew in the common room.
People she didn’t know? That would be okay. She could lie through her teeth and fib and deceive and fabrication. Only because strangers didn’t know her and didn’t know she could fib.
People she did know? Alarm. Those people knew her and she would be busted within three seconds. And the only thing they would feel would be pity.
Pity.
Brookline hated pity. It was the worst thing on the world. She hated when people thought bad for her, and went out of their way to help her. That just adds more weight on their backpacks on their backs. Brookline wouldn't wish that on anyone.
Inside the safe haven of her dorm room, Brookline sprawled upon her bed, and she exhaled as Tigeress leaped into the bed. The tabby kitten curled up at the base of her nape, the graceful feline had careful eyes as she loafed in a position where she was not lying painfully on Brookline’s fragile hair. At least her brunette locks were spread around like a silly lion’s mane.
Rolling over in a fury, Brookline felt a crinkle and paper-like crack from underneath the thick duvet. Unearthing a peice of rolled-up, ripping, faded parchment from underneath the bed's covers. Anger bubbled and decreasd as she relized what the slip of paper really was. It was Lizy's last letter sent in early November and it caused Brookline such distress when she read it, she had crumpled up the letter in a ball, and threw it underneath her covers.
The Welsh Ravenclaw needed to send a letter back soon. Even if she wasn't going to fulfill Lizy's wishes. God, of course Brookline was not going to take the train home. She wasn't going to add more stress upon her shoulders. Everything she went home, in gorgeous Wales, her father (and mother in that sense) always did something that sent her to wet tears.
Christmas: He announced the divorce, and just left. She shoved herself in her room, absent and invisible yet visible to her children, then when Brookline hid a stash of her friend, Sage's letters in the cupboard, and her mother found it, asking why Brookline didn't talk to her. @Sage Willows
Easter: The blasted man brought Brookline home and then freaking left again, racing out of the accursed house. The woman did nothing about it, and then Brookline almost set the house on fire.
Christmas 2025? Brookline was going to spend it in Scotland, no where near her father nor mother. Of course the young girl wanted to see her older sister and younger siblings but it was just not going to happened. Perhaps Easter, yet, just not now. Perhaps never, honestly.
Groaning, Brookline grabbed a flimsy quill and parchment stored in her trunk as Tigeress froze and scurried off the bed. Starting to scribble a response with horrible, terrible chicken scratch, the Ravenclaw girl started to cry as she used to have such beautiful handwriting. Her tutor taught her perfect as she could printed and then cursive, as she realized the intense change.
***
Envelope and letter in hand, Brookline gritted her teeth, her palms rubbing frustratingly at her arms, as she skipped around owl feces, trying her hardest not to breathe in the repulsive and abhorrent redolence. Cranium cocked up the high ceiling of the Owlery, she tried to seek a suitable winged-creature.
As she tried to look for a messaged owl, her phony braid whacked her in the face, her blue eyes now singing. Brookline groaned and rubbed quickly at her eyes.
Right in the blind-spot of her eye, Brookline caught a slightly smaller figure in the corner of her iris. A gasp flittered from her chapped lips, as she skidded out of the way of the oncoming student. As she hopped out of the way, her envelope slipped right through her small fingers, and drifted slowly and carefully to the floor. Unfortunately, the envelope that held her scrappy letter, was not quite sealed, and the letter slid right out.
If the other girl should glance at the letter, or even bend down to pick it up, she would see tears staining the paper, and scrawny cacography etched across the small page of parchment, along with a few scratched out words.
Brookline Quinn
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Scotland, UK
22nd of November, 2025
Elizabeth Quinn
Quinn Residence
Ferndale, Wales, UK
Dear Lizy,
I can not come home for the holidays. A good friend of mine cannot go home for Christmas so I’ve decided to stay with them at Hogwarts. Give my best wishes (and hugs) to our mother and siblings.
I only wish I could expose such details to you via owl. Yet, I’m not even sure I should tell you of my situation. How do I stop it? How do I stop the voices?
You’re my older sister and I know you look out for me, I know you still think of me as that wee baby. But I’m not that little kid anymore. In fact, I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’m not sure how I’m going to survive a Christmas here at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is suffocating me!
Please tell me how my little siblings are doing without their big sisters. I’m sure they’re going to be happy to see dear Marie and Minnie. Tell them not to be upset that I didn’t come; tell them that it was not their fault I didn’t come. It’s his and hers.
Anyway, Minnie and Marie have done an amazing job here at Hogwarts, (all O’s!) and thinks it’s amazing to be here, instead of there. I only wish you were here too, yet, I only fear that would only split our family apart. As Mum’s too emotional and Dad Father’s gone, we would have to send Cash and Chase to Mum’s grandparents or Father’s brother. What I mean to say, is that thanks so much for looking after our little brothers.
Before I go on and on in a unnecessary ramble, I wanna let you know that I love you and Mum. Just try to get Mum out of her bedroom once in a while. She needs the fresh air and you do too.
Love,
Brookline
“S-sorry! Did not mean to almost bump into you. Guess I was not paying enough attention. Sorry!!” A little shaky mess, Brookline trembled as her neck turned round to find where her letter had dropped. She just had to find that letter before someone else did!
In another part of her brain, all it felt like she’d said today was sorry. Why sorry? Sorry had to be the worst word in the whole entire dictionary. Fingers quivered ever so slightly as Brookline turned back to the younger student.
Awkward silence enveloped between the two girls like unspilled ebony ink, as they stood in the Owlery. Deciding to fix that, shivering Brookline plastered a little smile on her face, and words tumbled out of her lips, “Uhh, I guess I should introduce myself. Brookline, Brookline Quinn.... And your name is?” Studying the other student, Brookline took in the girl’s tumbling midnight-dark tresses, and vivid chocolate-coloured eyes. There was something just a little familiar to her. The Ravenclaw girl just couldn’t put her finger on it.
Oh wait!
Isn’t this girl a Ravenclaw? Brookline could have swore she’d seen this student with whispy bangs around the eagles’ house tables. Perhaps she was or was the other student a visitor?
“Hey, aren’t you a Ravenclaw, huh?” Brookline asked, her eyebrows knitted as she gazed into the girl’s brown eyes, trying to figure out this stubborn thought.
[ coded by elena clark ]
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occ notes: sorry about the late starter! feel free to pick up the letter and read it.
Last edited by Brookline Quinn on 10 Jun 2026, 01:56, edited 2 times in total.
Unspilled Ink
Word Count: 610/200 | Mentions: @Brookline Quinn | Speech: >w<
𝕿he dark quill tumbled out of the ravenclaw's hand, splattering to the ground in a pool of starry ink. She blinked for a good minute, gazing around cautiously as she - oh so very slowly - reached down for the quill.
The writing continued.
Korinna must have been sitting there for hours, her head pounding as she crumpled up letter after letter. There wasn't much time left before the winter holidays - the quill - the harsh, broken words that had been twisted into her very being...
The crumpled up letters stared at her forlornly from the corner, the still-wet ink dripping from the words like black tears.
______
Now the owlery was nearly always noisy - what did one expect when keeping feathered birds all in one place? But there was something strangely soothing about it, being alone with no one but the winged critters to keep you company. It wasn't until she heard a pattering of wooden footsteps and the door creak open that she began to panic. What if it was a prefect? or.. even worse... someone she knew? Maybe she should just keep her head down and then they wouldn't notice or they'd leave or -
She stole a glance behind her, breathing a sigh of relief. A stranger. Though perhaps she'd seen this brunette girl around the castle, as she seemed oddly familiar.
The girl hadn't seen her yet. That was good.
Korinna couldn't help but notice the letter that had slipped out of the other girl's hands and had slid underneath her. She quickly bent down and picked it up - not to read it, but to give it back to the girl when she turned around - but couldn't help but scan the first few paragraphs and see that it was stained in ink and tears. She had several questions. Voices..? What voices?
Of course, she didn't except butterflies and rainbows... but she felt horrible even holding this personal letter...
“S-sorry! Did not mean to almost bump into you. Guess I was not paying enough attention. Sorry!!”
"Oh!" Korinna panicked, hastily shoving the letter in the folds of her robes. She didn't want the girl to see that she had been reading the letter right off the bat... or reading it at all. What a horrible first encounter that would be! She had to figure out a way to give it to her somehow.. ack. "I- that's okay." she let out a small laugh. "I think I may have been the one accidentally bumping into you! A bit all over the place today."
She stood there albeit a bit awkwardly as she scanned the girl in front of her. She was sure she'd seen her around the castle - and from her midnight blue robes, it was obvious she was a ravenclaw, too. The girl was absolutely certain they'd never met before, yet she had a rather strange familiarity to her that Korinna couldn't quite place a finger on.
The younger ravenclaw startled when the girl started speaking again. A name hastily tumbled out of her lips. Brookline Quinn. It was rather pretty. Melodic, almost.
"Nice to meet you! Korinna Nightshade." she answered more casually, forcing a smile to her face. "Yes, i-i'm a ravenclaw. I think I may have seen you around before."
She hadn't meant to start a conversation. How was she supposed to just hand over the letter now, without Brookline seeing that she had read it?
The more she talked, a feeling of guilt and anxiety began to seep through her spine, butterflies squirming around in her stomach. And the girl was looking for the letter too! Oh dear.
Unspilled Ink
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| x | mentions ; @Korinna Nightshade | 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓯𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓹𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓼𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓭. |
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XXXXX𝕭rookline stared as the letter drifted out of sight, probably on the chipped floor. She just had to find and retrieve it before the other did. Lord knows how horrible it would be if someone picked it up and read it! Scattered with tears and personal words, someone has to be smart enough to see through the Quinn’s facade. Perhaps she could just find it.
Words and half-hearted apologies tumbled from her sinful lips. Brookline wanted to cry now. The only word in her head was sorry. It was overwhelming and she couldn’t see straight.
Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.
Is that all she had uttered today? One sorry after another? Sorry sorry sorry. God. Brookline wanted to sink into the floor. She had to be seen as a pushover by others. Embarrassing. Shaking her head, she narrowed her dark blue eyes as the other witch bent down as if she had to tie her shoes. The girl quickly straightened, and she seemed rather panicked as she waved the Ravenclaw girl off, saying that she was a little bit all over the place today too. Brookline tried to make her seem less nervous by backing up a little bit. Wait, no! That probably seems like I’m being rude and impolite! Shitttttt... She could already hear her mother’s and sister’s voices, morphing together and chastising her for being quite ill-mannered. Perhaps disrespectful too. Brookline was just trying to give some personal space... Damn it all. Mentally sighing, the Welsh girl wanted so bad to slap herself in the forehead.
Brookline gave a little smile to the underclassmen. She introduced herself and asked for the girl’s name. Hopefully this girl isn’t so shy. As the Welsh Ravenclaw did her best at being patient, silence sparkled in the air. Now she wasn’t going to second guess herself, as she observed the other girl. Brookline knew this underclassmen. Even if they were just acquaintances. Before the other witch could respond, Brookline asked if the girl was a Ravenclaw. Then, along with introducing herself, the girl also answered the question, proving the young Quinn right! Of course she was.
Korinna? Oh! Korinna Nightshade. Brookline’s teammate. She bounced to the tips of her toes when she remembered. “Oh my God! Korinna! You’re one of my teammates.” She smiled. Brookline recalled that Nightshade was the newbie this year. “Remember, last week we went up against Slytherin? They kinda kicked our asses but we’re getting them next time, I swear it to you. We are.”
Despite the grimace on her face, Brookline knew they were going to win next race. The Snakes’ seventh year that crossed that finish line was leaving this year, so that meant the Ravens were definitely beating them next year. At least she really did hope so. Merlin, racing meant a lot to her. Even thought some days she didn’t feel like going out to practice or getting up to perform in a race, she rather liked the sport. Broom racing was a lot and Brookline loved racing. She especially liked the competition.
Brookline froze when she realized that she still had a painful letter to search for. Hopefully it was around here somewhere. She glanced over to Korinna, crossing her fingers that the Ravenclaw didn’t have anything else to say. She waited a good second for Korinna to answer her word blurb before she would lapse into thinking. How would she find her letter? It could be anywhere. A owl could have picked it up and could have ripped it to shreds. Or someone else in the Owlery could pick it up when she left, reading everything that she scrawled in hopes that her oldest sister could understand. And oh mercy. Her name and address was on it. Oh no. That means whoever reads it will know who she is. By reading this letter. It does have its white lies, but it also has the truth scratched out. All she could hope is that the person who picks up the letter doesn’t make out her horrible handwriting. Chicken skin slid up her neck in panic, and her breathing became harsher, faster. That person who picked her letter up will have the time of their life reading about her personal insights. What if it slid out the window and falls onto someone’s head? Even if a owl picked it up in their talons, what if they delivered it to the wrong address? What if? Panic set in, and her fingers started to shiver and tremble like a volcano. What if a close friend of her reads her letter and comes to her, asking what happened? What if all they can feel is pity? Would they come up to her and try to help her? Oh no. What if an adult picks it up? That would definitely be the worst. An adult can show it a professor or head of house and say, yep, that’s Brookline Quinn of Ravenclaw, third year. Go fetch her and see what’s wrong. Oh God, she hoped that no one finds her valuable letter where she poured out her literal heart and completely fibbed. What if?
What if what if what if what if?
Brookline told herself to shut up. There was no sense in panicking and having her anxiety scramble and spiral to the freaking roof. She had someone right here she could ask. Ask Korinna if she could help her in searching for that letter. Perhaps without letting the girl read the contents.
“Say. You haven’t seen a letter on the floor? I might have dropped it when we almost bumped into each other. It’s for my sister and I kinda need it to response to her. Could you perhaps help me search? Unless you need somewhere to be.” Brookline grins, her smile lukewarm and forced. “Then, no worries,” she finishes easily as if this letter was just harmless and a I miss you and I hope to come home the next holiday letter. Not a letter that explains all her issues and had salty water embed in the extra parchment.
Even though her words were calm and unfazed, her mental space was freaking out. Brookline’s hands uncomfortably grabbed the ruffles of her pale skirt, fidgeting with the soft cotton. That at least grounded her a little bit. She tried to breath more easily. It would be such a nightmare if this escalated. Brookline wasn’t sure of she’s ever had a full-fledged panic attack, but she knew she’s been pretty darn close. Fortunately she knew when to tell her body and mind to halt and cease. When this heartbreaking anxiety would disappear, she didn’t know. All she knew is that she had to pretend to be fine and listen to Korinna. Even though she was flipping out inside.
She needed to remain calm. Brookline could do that, couldn’t she? Right? Yeah. She has got this. The Quinn can do this. She can remain at peace, all she had to do was remain calm and remain a semi reasonable reputation. At least she wasn’t in the holy presence of a upperclassmen or a third year. Brookline didn’t know how she can keep such a excellent facade. Merlin, she needed help.
All of this acting and pretending is fricking exhausting.
[ coded by elena clark ]
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occ notes: i’m terribly sorry for such a late response:(((