12 Feb 2024, 05:47
The Name Game
September, 2023
@Kit Isabelle Blaine and @Opeila Winters
She'd never admit to how daunting having her name called was. In class. Out and about. In private, between the hum of soft whispers. She feared what they thought. Feared what they would ask. What does it mean? What. Does. It. Mean. Did it even mean anything? The short answer? No. The long answer?
Well.
There wasn't one.
Somehow, Xailah had spent years dodging that one dreaded inquiry (or at the very least, skillfully ignoring it)- up until about one fateful hour ago. She had been in History of Magic, idly watching the time tick away through the lenses of a daydream. Dimly aware of the rustle of papers, only then was she pulled from her tranquil state. Graded homework was being passed back out, and it was by pure chance one of her papers had been sent to another student. This peer was polite enough to return the work to its rightful owner, but not without causing some kind of stir. The lioness would have the misfortune of catching the tail end of a question; a gentle probe that had been entirely innocent in nature. After all, the student had no possible way of knowing about the constant inner conflict Xailah had about her own name.
I like your name, does it mean anything?
Does it mean anything?
Does it-
Class couldn't end fast enough, but once it did she booked it. The question rang in her head, like shrill windchimes, as she fled to the library: the only place she had any hope of finding an answer. Plowing through the faceless bodies in the hall, she was hardly conscious of her beloved Schrödinger's efforts to keep at her heel. Admittedly, she wasn't really conscious of much; only the idea to seek, find, and conqueror. She sought an end to this turmoil. She had to have it. She was going to have it.
She'd be damned otherwise.
The second Xailah breached the Library doors, a change happened; hunt turned to hunger, as her harvest moon eyes flitted about in the soft light. She knew what she wanted- an answer- but she didn't even know where to begin looking. The shelves were so intimidating all of a sudden, making her feel like an ant in a paper maze- and that's really all she was, wasn't she? An itty-bitty nameless ant. Her lips pressed into a thin line while her sights were guided through the first few rows of shelves. There had to be something useful somewhere around here- or at least a book that could point her in a vague direction.
Before me, you rightly tremble. But, fear is not what you owe me. You owe me awe....
Stamina: 12 ~ Evasion: 17 ~ Strength: 2 ~ Wisdom: 16 ~ Arcane Power: 4 ~ Accuracy: 17
Student Account: Martyr Daeva-Lazarus
13 Feb 2024, 16:19
The Name Game
A troubled young lady.
Was that who Kit was? Was that the entirety of her identity? Was it the “lady” that bothered her, or was it really the “troubled”? She told herself she enjoyed it, enjoyed the pranks and practical jokes, enjoyed her own sass and somewhat rude personality. That was what her teachers at state school had always called her, and sometimes she wondered if the Hogwarts professors thought the same of her. Transfiguration class had just ended - surely, surely, Professor Perceval-Phelan didn’t think that of her. At least she was good at transfiguration.
Her feet had carried Kit to the library of their own accord. She wasn’t sure why she was drawn to it. Her brows knitted at her own lack of self-control, at exactly what kind of thoughts she was thinking, and exactly what kinds of places she was going in her leisure time.
Kit cringed as she entered the library, unsure of what she even planned to do. Homework? Unlikely. Reading? Not really in the mood. Relaxing? Plausible. Kit plucked a random book from the shelf to at least create the facade of studying. It was a book on flying, titled Flying for Dummies (a dummy?- was that who Kit was?) Kit paused, for that was exactly the subject she would like to place more work in. If she wasn’t a decent enough flyer, her Quidditch dreams would have to wait. So, Kit buried her nose within the book, flipping to the chapter Raise your Flying Grades.
Kit made notice kit to bump into anyone, but she really couldn’t help it if she did. Nodding along, Kit suddenly found herself slamming into a large mass - someone much older than she was. It couldn’t be Mr. Sáez, could it? No, the figure was certainly feminine. ‘Hey, watch it,’ Kit muttered, with a less energy than she would normally. She frowned, before taking a step back to regard the girl in front of her. Well, girl was nowhere near the correct word. She was a sublime beauty, with moonlight-pale skin and dark brown locks, almost brown. Her eyes were gold, not unlike a cat, but not only in colour, rather also in shape.
‘Sorry. Do I know you?’ She looked vaguely familiar, as if Kit had seen her around some event. A prefect, perhaps? She was a Gryffindor, so Kit really had no reason to know. Her brow creased, finally shutting her newly-discovered book.
@Opeila Winters @Xailah Alphtraum
If you know what’s best for you, call me Kit.