27 Nov 2020, 05:18
both alike in dignity
private thread with @Juniper Yu
timeline September 1st, 2020 - 10:30 am
In fair London where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Platform 93⁄4 always seemed to be a place of great clamour every time it opened. Of course, the train didn't arrive just any day of the year- instead a servant to the clock and year, tumbling forward along shiny train tracks seldom trailed as holiday seasons and term ends and beginnings churn out children with magic whose description rings so absurd to the common ear it leaves muggle parents thinking of fairytales over the truth. It seems that there was never a time in which the Hogwarts Express was allowed to leave with half its compartments empty and red seats unoccupied except for ghosts of the past- perhaps decades ago it had been like that, perhaps half a generation past pleas for the train to forever remain crowded, if only to secure a future for so many.
Ignore the ticking clocks that try to tell you of the red steam train's arrival, ignore the great chasm of empty space between one side of the floor and the other. Instead, think about the platform itself. Walls of brick and a floor of squared concrete, the great skylight windows looming high above and overarching metal bridges. Or if that didn't appeal to you nearly as much as your letter of acceptance, perhaps look around to the people. On a day like September 1st, the platform matched the rest of King's Cross in activity, people of all walks of life bustling around in an attempt to get their schoolchildren ready for most of a year away from home.
Most of a chapter away from home and closer to the jaws of disaster, if you were to ask many a student above first year. From student-caused catastrophe to creature attacks to some overlap between the two, the magical boarding school life held no long-term peace. To those poor unsorted newcomers, get used to the unbridled chaotic energy buzzing around Platform 93⁄4- you're going to need that strength.
In between the crowd of brightly coloured garments of cotton modernity and various levels of confusion, we finally come upon our three targets, their path a parting of seas. From dress and expression alone, it's apparent that this year isn't their first time round the block. Magic-found or born, perhaps that unworldly allure to the young girl would appeal to you, a beauty kept stoic, but forget not to avert your gaze from their path as a strange chill lingered in their wake. If you were one of the lucky high blood, perhaps you could identify Lord Neptune and his heir- by name or by reputation it was one and the same- their postures formal and vaguely annoyed. Do not let the cane in hand fool you, it is a dangerous tool in a pinch and tradition more than neccessity- a mark of family loyalty just the same as the silver crest upon his heir's sleeve cuffs, the marked collar of Lord Liu Wei Neptune's collar. Within fair Astrea's arms sat the family's new catty companion, intelligent gooseberry green eyes unamused by the frantic fussing of certain others. What a peculiar trio. No matter.
A monumentous day it was- the start of third year. Our dear Astrea would never admit to it out loud- but what would she even admit verbally in the first place?- in the face of her father, but September 1st was a day of pooling dread. Of course, she enjoyed the familiar hum of personality to the castle, the comfortable common rooms, the flexible schedule, but the positives always seemed to pale in comparison to the negatives. Even now, Orpheus in arm and under the fleeting protection of the lord her father, her head spun uneasily. She had never been a fan of the flurried noise drenching every corner of King's Cross, instead content to allow her silence-spoiled ears to rest deep within the eye of the storm away from the grating chaos. Her father and feline much the same- arriving earlier was supposed to have curbed such an encounter, but the longer she surrounded herself with such noise the more she longed for the tranquility of the countryside. How others managed a life like this- she did not know. With a bitter wiseness beyond her years, it must also be known that Astrea truely did not know many things, could only guess as others do the same. But you can't predict the future, can you? Nor can you change the past.
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.appearances astrea | lord neptune + cane | orpheus
text colour #274E13
| astrea neptune ... | ... johannes sauer |
| hogwarts wizardry. duellist. | durmstrang. horntail horde. |
14 Dec 2020, 13:20
both alike in dignity
I apologise for the rushed and crappy writing... I just didn't want to leave you waiting any longer T_T[font=times new roman]@Astrea Soleil NeptuneJuniper and Madeline were in no cases late, but the latter was walking extremely quickly as if the train was going to leave half an hour early, while her daughter struggled along with her heavy trunk. It was clear that Madeline knew what she was doing, although Juniper thought she could sense a certain apprehensive reluctance about her, as if her mother didn't want to be here. She recalled what she had said about Squibs and the discrimination she had received as a child, and not for the first time, she felt a pang of pity for Madeline. How awful it must have been for her, finding out that Juniper was a witch, something she would never be despite how much she wanted it. As the eleven-year-old was practically dragged into a brick wall with a yelp of terror and shock, Madeline's hand gripping hers tightly, she briefly wondered if her mother had cracked it and braced herself for the impact and pain... which never came.
A look of dizzying relief and surprise crossed her face as she emerged onto Platform 9 3⁄4 without hurting herself. Madeline had stopped walking, and Juniper used this opportunity to take a look around, brown eyes filled with awe and mind a flurry of thoughts. She looked back at the brick wall, astounded at how she had managed to come through unharmed, and wondered if she was dreaming. She was sorely tempted to reach back through the wall just to check she hadn't just imagined it, but her mother was already walking down the platform. "Wh - Mom - wait!" Juniper ran to catch up with Madeline, panting slightly with the added weight of her trunk. "I swear, has she gone mad?" she muttered to herself.
It was only then that she noticed the look on her mom's face. Pensive and a little wistful - longing for something she never got to experience. Juniper swallowed the snarky remark she had saved about her mother's speediness and looked up at her, unsure of what to say. "I remember standing here with my siblings and my parents," said Madeline coolly, "and watching them leave to go to a magical school I could never even dream of attending. Never thought I'd come back after I ran away, but here we are." She offered a tight-lipped smile at her daughter, who smiled back uncertainly. Madeline wasn't exactly helping her nerves, and maybe she saw the apprehension on her face, because her next words were a lot more helpful.
"Listen, sweetheart," Her mother spoke in Chinese, crouching to look Juniper in the eye. She took her daughter's hand in her own. "I hear Hogwarts is a wonderful, wonderful place, and you'll get to learn everything you will ever need to know in order to become successful in the magical world. It's a beautiful castle, and you'll make so many friends. I know you will."
Juniper swallowed, grip tightening on Madeline's hand. She wasn't so sure. She wasn't very good at making friends, after all - her past two years in London had shown that... and what about all those prejudiced purebloods who hated anything that wasn't pure like them? "What if I run into people like your family? What if they just hate me, just because I'm a halfblood?"
Madeline shook her head and smiled sadly, wistfully, squeezing Juniper's hand gently. "Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. There will always be people like that. I wish I could protect you against them. But what you do is-" she broke off sharply all of a sudden, brown eyes no longer focusing on her daughter's face and hardening at the sight of something behind her, expression freezing over like ice on a lake in the middle of winter as she straightened up to stare. Juniper felt the hairs on her arms raise despite the warmth of the spring day and turned her head to look.
There should have been nothing truly extraordinary about the trio... after all, it was just a man and his daughter, dressed in outfits way too fancy and old-fashioned for Juniper to process. (Honestly, with the train for a backdrop, this looked like a scene from one of Annalise's trashy Victorian novels.) The girl looked a little older than she was, and the eleven-year-old was taken aback at how pretty she was - were all Hogwarts students ridiculously gorgeous? However, lovely as she was, there was something unsettling about her. Juniper cocked her head, trying to work it out, when she noticed the cat in the girl's arm. Well, everything scary about her just went away at the sight of the fluffy feline. The first year was about to compliment the cat and ask if she could pat him when her mother spoke.
"You!" Madeline hissed. Juniper flinched at the venom and sheer anger in her mother's voice even though it wasn't directed at her, and was surprised to see the hatred burning in her eyes. She glanced back at the trio standing in front of her, mouth in the shape of an 'O' as she attempted to piece together what was happening. What had they done to piss her mom off?
"I - er, Mom?" she said timidly, tugging on the sleeve of her mother's coat to get her attention. "Are you ok?"
Madeline either didn't notice or didn't care, because she didn't respond. She was entirely focused on the man in front of her. "You - I - you -" she stammered, cheeks turning red. Juniper tugged on her sleeve again. She was beginning to feel scared, and her mind was still a mess, trying to figure out what was going on. "Fucking hell." Juniper looked up sharply before staring at the ground, suddenly very interested in her very interesting Converses. Her mother never swore.
Fucking hell indeed.
the innocent and beautiful have no enemy but time.
2 Jan 2021, 10:07
both alike in dignity
private thread with @Juniper Yu
timeline September 1st, 2020 - 10:30 am
In fair London where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Satisfied with merely manoeuvring past the yearly crowd of incoming students and their attending family units, there was little to overhear in terms of conversation between the peculiarly dressed trio- and when the Lord finally made the move to speak for the first time since they had left the estate they called home, it was very apparent that any such exchange would not be one so easily deciphered by the monolingual.
"Now, child." Though Astrea's father did not turn to face her, nor did he stop his even gait, it was quite apparent to whom he demanded attention. "I trust you know what your mother and I expect from you by now." There was an underlying sense of heaviness in that simple, repeatable sentence- a recognisable weight of responsibility hefting itself upon Astrea's shoulders just as effectively as a heavy cape. A modern mockery of Atlas, a mistaken mistress of confined misery. She said nothing, but her unprotested silence in the midst of such noise surrounding them seemed to work just as well.
A beat. They continued on, the clicking of their steps blending well into the chaos. "And you are to follow these expectations? You are getting older now." Oh, a reminder unneeded but one given either way. Within a few months, she would cross over into her teenage years, finally growing into a little lady. A steady transition, there would be, from the careful groom of dark chocolate childhoods to syrup-drenched adolescence. Greater exposure to the pureblood crowd and a spoonful higher of responsibilities even from a country away, her parental figures integrating themselves greater along the years as she proved useful. How pressuring, that looming ghost of something bigger than the niche she has carved out for herself since the sproutlings of her youth.
Carefully slightly behind and to the left, Astrea could only see part of her father's side view in her peripheral vision without completely turning her head. An expression as unexpressive as ever- you would think the lord a stone figure before a man considering how often he was inclined to shutter off his feelings. Astrea pointedly chose not to give that any more contemplation, instead readjusting an increasingly irritated Orpheus in her arms. So many people. "Yes sir." She knew already that the unpleasant emotional repression was something she had been passed down- nature or nurture it was both the same in this situation.
Brusque and to the point as always, her father did not waste any time in ensuring her further acknowledgement. "You represent us. Maturing means you are to grow into greater things with time, so do not waste your energy in the trifles of those who cannot keep that pace. Do you understand?" Whether it be the bumbling Sparkless-hailed or close kin, it was more a tightrope than a road to approval. It just so happened that the string tied scaled skyscrapers rather than the playground.
Anything Astrea could have said in response to such an inquiry was suddenly interrupted as her father stilled in his tracks in an uncharacteristic departure from a normally unhindered lecture. A train track turn into the unknown. An awful seething sound erupted from the direction as a stranger in sunglasses glared down the Lord, a syllable in their shared heritage language stretched and spat out with such animosity it was apparent even to the uncultured ear that whatever conversation was to ensue was not to be a pretty one.
A faint line of tension reared back the shoulders of her accused parent past the impeccable stance Astrea herself had cultivated, the fine cut of his suit making him seem so much larger leading his heir. "Madeline." Lord Neptune's voice was cold as steel, a strange glint of familiarity in those eyes as he stared down at the incensed woman. Astrea watched semi-dispassionately from a step behind her stilled father as the grip upon that ceremonial cane tightened slightly, the polished bird impassive even as leather gloves creaked with the motion. The little girl tailing along sounded just as awkwardly confused as she, tugging at Madeline's sleeve nervously in a way that Astrea would never see herself doing. Strange. "I see you have been doing well for yourself." Her father rarely pulled such a tone without good reason- one that Astrea knew the consequences to very familiarly- and to inject such frostiness in conversation so quickly was quite the peculiar feat.
As much as Lord Neptune seemed to acknowledge the two intruders, strangers they remained in Astrea's memory. Clad in muggle clothing, they seemed as unfamiliar as any other Sparkless wandering King's Cross. The woman she had no recollection, that was quite clear, even with an expression twisted with offence. More often than not, keeping the company of her elders resulted in very little personal satisfaction- only a fulfilment of a duty-, a far cry from the strange intrigue of those around her age. But alas, Madeline's daughter she knew not. Neither hide nor hair of the child spoke of memories of Hogwarts' halls, of a house allegiance or even glimpses in the classrooms. Perhaps Astrea was negligent in her drifting observation- ignored in favour for her want for solitude- or perhaps the girl, who seemed far more interested with the ground's matters in an attempt to escape the inevitable clash of tempers, was merely another unsorted incoming first year. The latter seemed more likely.
Judging from the clothing and behaviour of her father's aggressor, it was easy to deduce that the pair were decidedly not pureblood, or perhaps not properly inducted into the court of high society. The age of the girl in front of her made the secondary option seem doubtful. After all, it seemed that such privileges become more exclusive with every passing year as the pool of eligible receded, enough so that it seemed every highborn child of a certain area knew another by word of mouth somehow. But if not of blood purity then how did Astrea's father know of this Madeline woman?
From within her arms, Orpheus gave a haughty sniff at the rising tensions between the two adults, the ever-noble feline staring down her junior warily with all the aloofness of a spoiled prince upon a throne. It seemed that the peculiarity of this year's first of September had stricken even her new companion(s). Strange indeed.
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.appearances astrea | lord neptune + cane | orpheus
all dialogue spoken, unless specified otherwise, is assumed to be in mandarin chinese
| astrea neptune ... | ... johannes sauer |
| hogwarts wizardry. duellist. | durmstrang. horntail horde. |