Private Roleplay between Anastasia Beckett and @Amara Dragamior

Her Hair, Makeup, and Outfit

Ana didn't want to be on the train. In fact, she had intended to just not go back to school this year until her aunt and house-elf had practically dragged her here. It felt so wrong, going back to her life like everything was normal. It wasn't. Her mother had been murdered and her father was in jail for it. What was worse, Ana couldn't remember anything about that night other than the green flash. She knew that the human mind had odd ways of dealing with traumatic events, so she assumed her brain was trying to protect her from something, which made everything worse. If she couldn't remember that moment, it meant that there was something she had wanted to forget. That didn't bode well.

She had purposefully avoided all of her friends since she had stopped writing everyone mid-July and didn't have the energy or the inclination to deal with any of the reconciling that would need to take place. Hell, she wasn't certain that she wanted anything to do with anyone, much less her friends. Emotionally, she was a bomb, and it was only a matter of time before she blew up and destroyed everyone around her. It was bound to happen, which it was her remembering what had happened that night or something else.

The girl's entire demeanor and look were different too. Her girly skirts and pinks and pastels were gone. Her hair was in a ponytail that rather looked like it been involved in a brawl, and her dark eye makeup was rather startling against her porcelain skin. The most noticeable difference was the leather jacket wrapped around her. In her mind, the jacket and overall look were akin to armor or a mask. Something to protect her by hiding her. For the first time in her life, that was all she wanted. To hide, to be unseen.

She had managed to find an empty compartment towards the end of the train. She didn't love the idea of it being empty, since that meant people might feel like they were allowed to join her - they weren't - but it was a better option than joining a compartment full of terrified first years, which were the only ones left with much space.

Her aunt had already dealt with Ana's massive amount of luggage, sent it ahead or something, Ana neither knew nor cared. The only piece with her was a medium-sized trunk, packed with her school things and some books so that she wouldn't have to worry about unpacking everything right away. She shoved the trunk under a seat before sitting and stretching out to make sure nobody could sit next to her. She rested her chin on her fist and gazed out the window, praying that some sort of peace would come, anything to replace this pain and emptiness she felt. As she absently watched the platform, she suddenly found herself back to the last time she had been on this train. Her ride home from Hogwarts. Had that really only been a few months ago? Ana felt decades more tired and decades older. After a moment of watching the crowded platform, she shook her head slightly. She couldn't think about that platform, since it made her think of her parents, made her think of what had happened when she had gotten home, made her think of how this was all her fault. She couldn't let herself be weak going into the year or she would never survive.

She pulled her trunk out from under her and removed a school book. She could throw herself into her studies since that was probably the only thing that actually still seemed to matter. As she reclined and began to read ahead, an onlooker might make note of her regal, almost queen-like air. A heartbroken and disheveled queen to be sure, but a queen nonetheless.

September 1st, 2020
Hair/Makeup and Outfit
PV thread with @Anastasia Beckett
Mentions @Rafael D'Spacito as Hanzo

@Amara Dragamior

Of course the universe didn't see fit to let Ana have a compartment to herself. It hadn't considered her wants or needs this summer, so why the bloody hell would she expect it to now? God, she would have thought that after everything that had happened, she was entitled to do exactly what she pleased and get whatever she wanted. The universe could give her that much, it was just being an asshole and choosing not to.

Ana rolled her dark eyes at the girl's question. While this was something that she had always done and had never exactly been subtle, it was exaggerated by her scowl and dark eye makeup. "If you must," she sighed, as the girl seemed set on entering regardless of what Ana's reply was. Sighing audibly in distaste, she shot the girl a withering glare as she began to pass judgment on this blonde as to whether or not she was someone worth any more of Ana's time. She had an obscenely short skirt that made Ana seriously question her upbringing and some seriously questionable looking shoes. Normally, she took a bit longer categorizing people, but she honestly didn't see a point.

First off, the girl was clearly not someone that Ana would choose to spend more time around, and secondly, it just didn't seem to matter much anymore. Who cared if Ana thought this girl was worthless or her new best friend? All of her characteristic mean girl antics seemed stupid and immature considering what had happened. Instead of worrying about gossip and silly little school girl spats, Ana was worrying about making sure that the Beckett family kept up appearances and other stupid adult things that no 13-year old ought to concern herself with.

Turning back to her book, she tried to ignore her unwanted companion, but the scratching of her quill seemed deafening. Maybe it was from the months spent alone, but she didn't think she had ever heard anyone write that loudly. In the past, Ana would have snapped at the girl, probably kicked her out of the compartment, but again, she just felt an overwhelming sense of pointlessness. She was almost fourteen years old and had achieved next to nothing in life beyond having perfect grades and bullying the majority of the Hogwarts student body. None of that seemed to matter anymore. What she was left with was trauma and confusion of all that had happened, and her parents' back-breakingly heavy legacy to shoulder. It was more than a child should ever have to handle, but Ana was determined not to fail. She couldn't. It was all she had left now.

@Anastasia Beckett
Mentions- Hanzo/Rafa

@Amara Dragamior

Well, it seemed the girl wasn't quite utterly loathsome. The scratching seemed to annoy her as well, based on her sudden abuse towards the scrap of parchment she was writing on. Ana lazily arched an eyebrow at the tearing and crumpling as she tried to focus back in on her book. In any event, the scratching was stopped, which meant Ana couldn't just hate this girl. Not yet anyway. Pity, as she would have dearly liked to have someone to direct all of her anger and sadness towards with a well-aimed curse. She considered disliking the girl for not being dislikeable, but again, that wasn't something that actually seemed very important to Ana. Also, possibly a tad unreasonable, but that had never stopped Ana before.

The younger girl silently handed the brunette a chocolate frog, which earned a second eyebrow arch, although this one was slightly less judgmental and almost confused. Did this girl think Ana was someone to be pitied? Could she tell what was going on? Doubtful. So then what? Was she trying to bribe Ana? Ana wasn't certain she was someone to be bribed. Not for something as small as a chocolate frog anyway. That left one option, which happened to be Ana's least favorite. This girl was doing something just to be nice or make peace. That seemed the most likely, which Ana found the hardest to stomach. Nobody was genuinely kind, and there wasn't any such thing as a gift. If Ana had learned anything from her traumatic summer, it was that.

Still, she accepted the peace offering and began to pick at it without paying any attention to the card. Hr companion shifted in her seat and opened a book. "That's my favorite Jane Austen book," Ana mused, her voice faintly raspy. That stupid rasp had been there since the blossom ball, although part of Ana wondered if it was from the endless crying she'd done that summer. Her words could be taken several ways and Ana honestly didn't care which. They could be taken as an observation, or an invitation for conversation. Ana was rather hoping that the girl chose the latter. Mostly because she was hoping for the girl to give her a reason to dislike her, then Ana's ignoring her would be acceptable. Not that she would admit it, but there was also a small part of her hoping that the girl didn't turn out to be awful. Ana hadn't spoken to anyone outside the family since she'd been so terrible to Ivy, and the extroverted girl would be lying if she said she wasn't dying for human contact. It confused her, since, simultaneously, she didn't want to ever speak to anyone ever again. It was an interesting combination.

@Amara Dragamior

Ana sighed slightly when the girl closed her book. Part of her was glad, since she wasn't able to focus on her book, and would really rather not spend the entire train ride contemplating the utter and complete failure of her life and subsequently having a mental breakdown. That wouldn't do, having a mental breakdown so early in the term. She would try and wait until exam season came around, then everyone else would be having their mental breakdowns with her.

Ana nodded in agreement, considering the girl's words for a moment. "That she is," Ana mused after a few seconds. It was surely a cliche, being a headstrong well-read girl and enjoying that particular novel, but that wouldn't stop Ana. After all, cliches had become a cliche for a reason. Her parents disdain towards most muggle things oddly did not extend to Muggle authors. They had once said something along the lines of that was the only thing Muggles were really any good for since wizards were too busy doing consequential things to write novels or paint or sculpt. Ana disagreed a bit with their line of reasoning but didn't argue their conclusion. Muggle art was quite lovely, and if Ana had limited herself to only reading books written by wizards, she would have run out of reading material a long time ago.

She really found the girl's good taste in literature fairly pleasant attitude to be almost irritating, since she still really would have preferred to foster a deep disdain or dislike for this girl. "I'm Anastasia B-" she stopped herself. For some reason, she couldn't introduce herself the same way she had for her entire life before the moment. Beckett was the name that connected her to her dead mother. To her possibly murderous father. Ana just couldn't get the word out. It also didn't help that she was sure there were all sorts of rumors about the Beckett family flying around in the wizarding community, so if this girl was anything other than a muggle-born, she would have likely heard something. Not that Ana cared about rumors - people were bound to talk about you when they were bored with their own lives and you were as amazing as Ana - but she was absolutely not in the mood to hear about or deal with any of the nonsense that people had spun up. "-by the way. And you are?"

She recovered quickly, making the slight slip unnoticeable to anyone who didn't know her. Just the way she wanted it.

@Amara Dragamior

Ana vaguely recognized the other girl's last name, which didn't mean much to Ana. She knew most Pureblood family names, but she honestly neither remembered nor cared to remember whether or not Dragamior was an acceptable family to socialize with. A part of her felt guilty about that since it was like she was completely ignoring her entire upbringing which was all she had left of her parents at the moment, but more of her just felt like devoting energy to something so pointless and silly was a waste.

The girl's first name was unusual but elegant. Ana found it rather odd that a girl whose name clearly marked her as a Pureblood of at least a decent upbringing would be dressed in such current Muggle fashion. Then again, Ana's current ensemble was hardly what was expected of a well-bred Pureblood girl, so she really wasn't one to judge right then.

The other girl's hands suddenly and violently squeezed the armrests but disappeared so quickly that Ana almost thought she had imagined it. If she wasn't a self-absorbed overdramatic adolescent, she would have considered the meaning of this motion. But, she was most definitely a self-absorbed overdramatic adolescent, so she moved on from the motion after a moment. "What year are you?" Ana asked, her tone not exactly eager but not entirely disinterested. Since the girl had so comfortably approached Anastasia, she likely wasn't a trembling little first year, and Ana was fairly confident they weren't in the same year either.