31 Aug 2018, 18:43
The Old Times
[Font= PT Sans] Amaya burst through the dark, silver and green velvet lined halls of the Bourne Cottage, frantically searching for her sister with teardrops building up in her eyes. She hastily blinked then away.
Finally, she reached the large room her sister resided in. The room, always so colorless, had always still been so full of personality and things that caused Amaya to know it was Mazu’s. Now, the posters, the papers, the collections were all stripped away, and it took everything Amaya had to keep the flood of pain and melancholy away.
Mazu was moving away.
Amaya had always known this would happen, especially when Mazu has met a fancy Italian pureblood, full of charming gestures and exotic ideas, beginning to shape and mold into someone alien to her. She no longer knew her sister.
She knew that Mazu wanted to move closer to her fancy little “boyfriend”, to get a job with him in Italy, to spend her days forgetting her parents, her old life, the things who had caused her to rise up and be who she was.
She was running away from her origins.
So no, Amaya didn’t cry. Instead, her head tilted higher, full of pride and blazing fire. “Mazu.”
Her sister turned around, focus leaving the huge trunk she was packing stuff into. Her expression turned soft, pitiful. Her blue eyes, a harsher one then Amaya’s, now seemed so faded. The spark of malice and mischievousness was gone, and it only served to remind Amaya just how much her sister had changed from the sister who used to spend her days attempting to guide Amaya through a world of hurt and pain and loss, relentlessly attacking others verbally.
It seemed her sister was always so full of these life lessons, so much that Amaya knew right then, that she could trust no one. She’d always known, in a way, yet she found it hard to build walls around her heart, to create something that would keep her emotions locked, and guard her secrets, her life, who she was.
“Amaya.”
The sharp tone her sister said it in, had always said it in, was so different from the way others spoke to her as if she knew nothing. Amaya closed her eyes. Embedded in the sharpness was pity, pity, and a small hint of a apology. She would miss the way her sister spoke her name, the way it made her feel as if she were truly just another person, same as all the others.
“You’re leaving.”
Amaya stated it as if it were a fact, as if there weren’t a plead hidden neatly underneath it, as if it weren’t a question filled with so much hurt and pain and loss.
Her sister, so serene and calm and gentle now, someone Amaya couldn’t recognize, didn’t want to recognize, gave a slight nod, as she finally shut the trunk, and smoothly locked it, the soft ping only serving to send more shivers down Amaya’s spine.
Mazu took a step closer, soft eyes searching Amaya’s. Amaya took a step back. What happened to the sharp cruelty in them? What happened to the people she knew? Had she never been living in reality? How had she missed it all? She turned sharply, and taking a sharp breath, was prepared to leave when suddenly her sister was there, hugging her.
Amaya didn’t lean into the warmth like she used to, because it was no longer soothing. It was all a lie, something so fake and so distant.
“Please. Stay with me.”
Amaya closed her eyes, before giving her a sharp nod and pointing to her sister’s large bed, glancing at the soft green silk covering it. Mazu nodded, and Amaya grabbed the familiar brush next to her side, and began to move through her sister’s long, waist-length hair. It shined, glinting tauntingly at her. Amaya no longer felt the pain. The hurt.
Now, it was only numbness.
Amaya began to separate her sister’s hair, moving two sections to the front and leaving the last, large section at the back. In swift movements, Amaya began to work through Mazu’s hair , her long, pale fingers nimbly weaving her sister’s hair into a braid. The sisters sat in silence, fraying bond shattered.
They both knew this.
Yet none made a move to heal it, to save the remains of something that could no longer be. This only served to cement the distance that had grown in between them.
Finally, Amaya finished, moving her sister’s hair back, arranging it into a skillful hairstyle. Taking a step back, she examined her work, nodding in approval, before finally she whispered a goodbye.
“A final braid, for good luck. Goodbye, Mazu.”
And before any other exchange could be made, Amaya fled, her tears reforming, insistent, and once she was safety holed up in the comfort of her room, she let them fall.
Never had she ever felt so alone.
Oh, how she wished to be young again, to be back in The Old Times, where everything was carefree and everything was perfect and there were only mild disputes. [/font]
Amaya Elizabeth Bourne
Finally, she reached the large room her sister resided in. The room, always so colorless, had always still been so full of personality and things that caused Amaya to know it was Mazu’s. Now, the posters, the papers, the collections were all stripped away, and it took everything Amaya had to keep the flood of pain and melancholy away.
Mazu was moving away.
Amaya had always known this would happen, especially when Mazu has met a fancy Italian pureblood, full of charming gestures and exotic ideas, beginning to shape and mold into someone alien to her. She no longer knew her sister.
She knew that Mazu wanted to move closer to her fancy little “boyfriend”, to get a job with him in Italy, to spend her days forgetting her parents, her old life, the things who had caused her to rise up and be who she was.
She was running away from her origins.
So no, Amaya didn’t cry. Instead, her head tilted higher, full of pride and blazing fire. “Mazu.”
Her sister turned around, focus leaving the huge trunk she was packing stuff into. Her expression turned soft, pitiful. Her blue eyes, a harsher one then Amaya’s, now seemed so faded. The spark of malice and mischievousness was gone, and it only served to remind Amaya just how much her sister had changed from the sister who used to spend her days attempting to guide Amaya through a world of hurt and pain and loss, relentlessly attacking others verbally.
It seemed her sister was always so full of these life lessons, so much that Amaya knew right then, that she could trust no one. She’d always known, in a way, yet she found it hard to build walls around her heart, to create something that would keep her emotions locked, and guard her secrets, her life, who she was.
“Amaya.”
The sharp tone her sister said it in, had always said it in, was so different from the way others spoke to her as if she knew nothing. Amaya closed her eyes. Embedded in the sharpness was pity, pity, and a small hint of a apology. She would miss the way her sister spoke her name, the way it made her feel as if she were truly just another person, same as all the others.
“You’re leaving.”
Amaya stated it as if it were a fact, as if there weren’t a plead hidden neatly underneath it, as if it weren’t a question filled with so much hurt and pain and loss.
Her sister, so serene and calm and gentle now, someone Amaya couldn’t recognize, didn’t want to recognize, gave a slight nod, as she finally shut the trunk, and smoothly locked it, the soft ping only serving to send more shivers down Amaya’s spine.
Mazu took a step closer, soft eyes searching Amaya’s. Amaya took a step back. What happened to the sharp cruelty in them? What happened to the people she knew? Had she never been living in reality? How had she missed it all? She turned sharply, and taking a sharp breath, was prepared to leave when suddenly her sister was there, hugging her.
Amaya didn’t lean into the warmth like she used to, because it was no longer soothing. It was all a lie, something so fake and so distant.
“Please. Stay with me.”
Amaya closed her eyes, before giving her a sharp nod and pointing to her sister’s large bed, glancing at the soft green silk covering it. Mazu nodded, and Amaya grabbed the familiar brush next to her side, and began to move through her sister’s long, waist-length hair. It shined, glinting tauntingly at her. Amaya no longer felt the pain. The hurt.
Now, it was only numbness.
Amaya began to separate her sister’s hair, moving two sections to the front and leaving the last, large section at the back. In swift movements, Amaya began to work through Mazu’s hair , her long, pale fingers nimbly weaving her sister’s hair into a braid. The sisters sat in silence, fraying bond shattered.
They both knew this.
Yet none made a move to heal it, to save the remains of something that could no longer be. This only served to cement the distance that had grown in between them.
Finally, Amaya finished, moving her sister’s hair back, arranging it into a skillful hairstyle. Taking a step back, she examined her work, nodding in approval, before finally she whispered a goodbye.
“A final braid, for good luck. Goodbye, Mazu.”
And before any other exchange could be made, Amaya fled, her tears reforming, insistent, and once she was safety holed up in the comfort of her room, she let them fall.
Never had she ever felt so alone.
Oh, how she wished to be young again, to be back in The Old Times, where everything was carefree and everything was perfect and there were only mild disputes. [/font]
Last edited by Amaya Bourne on 31 Aug 2018, 19:52, edited 1 time in total.
Amaya Elizabeth Bourne
31 Aug 2018, 19:08
The Old Times
[Font=PT Sans]Amaya could remember the first memory she had. That she loved.
She still had the shell, a small memento, placed into a box engraved with the two of them, Mazu and Amaya, made by Mazu herself.
It wasn’t perfect, but it held secrets, it held memories, and it held so much value in her life.
Amaya let herself fall back into her past, recalling the beautiful occasion with a smll, wistful smile.
***
Six-year old Amaya ran to Mazu enthusiastically, while Mazu rolled her eyes. Amaya, even then, could judge people’s expressions well, so knowing of what exactly was fake and real.
She smiled to herself, because she knew she’d seen Mazu’s lips flicker up for the briefest of seconds. It wasn’t often her sister smiled, and she wanted to do everything she could to make her smile again. Because she’d always wanted to make her family proud, even at that age.
“C’mon, wanna go to the beach today?”
Amaya blinked at her sister for a moment, staring at her, bemused, before finally jumping up and screaming the word yes over and over again. Mazu sighed at her little sister’s antics, and picked her up, letting her take her spot on her shoulders as they made their way to the board walk. Amaya smiled goofily at the smell of salt.
This would be the memory that would influence her liking of the Great Lake later on.
“‘Azu, ‘Azu, over there! Cot-ton Can-dy!” Amaya pointed with obvious enthuiasm, and gave Mazu a pointed look. Of course, Mazu didn’t see this, and gave Amaya a bob on the head. It was soft, yet it startled her all the same.
“Amaya,” Mazu hissed, “Cotton candy is for muggles. Are you a muggle? Or are you a filthy mudblood? Where’s your sense of pride? We are Bourne’s. We’re close to being one of the Sacred 28.”
Amaya lowered her hand. She knew Mazu was definitely going to be informing the parents of her slip-up. Amaya let out a soft whimper, and set her head down on Mazu’s head. This seemed to placate her, and Mazu sighed.
“I suppose you’re too young...”
Amaya let a small cheer slip out. She knew that this meant thirteen-year old Mazu wouldn’t be snitching on her today. Mazu let slip a amused smile, hastily clearing it to a haughty look, and they (Mazu) ran to the sand, glad to have worn sandals, and together, they rushed to the waves. Mazu deposited little Amaya, and together they stood there, waves brushing their feet, grinning stupidly, watching the sun set and the resulting blend of perfect, soft, pastel colors. (This may or may not have contributed to Amaya’s love of sunset and sunrise.)
On the way back, Mazu even picked up a single, perfect shell, letting Amaya keep all of the shells she grabbed. Amaya had taken all of the shells in sight, broken or whole.
Amaya ended up only keeping Mazu’s. [/font]
Amaya Elizabeth Bourne
She still had the shell, a small memento, placed into a box engraved with the two of them, Mazu and Amaya, made by Mazu herself.
It wasn’t perfect, but it held secrets, it held memories, and it held so much value in her life.
Amaya let herself fall back into her past, recalling the beautiful occasion with a smll, wistful smile.
***
Six-year old Amaya ran to Mazu enthusiastically, while Mazu rolled her eyes. Amaya, even then, could judge people’s expressions well, so knowing of what exactly was fake and real.
She smiled to herself, because she knew she’d seen Mazu’s lips flicker up for the briefest of seconds. It wasn’t often her sister smiled, and she wanted to do everything she could to make her smile again. Because she’d always wanted to make her family proud, even at that age.
“C’mon, wanna go to the beach today?”
Amaya blinked at her sister for a moment, staring at her, bemused, before finally jumping up and screaming the word yes over and over again. Mazu sighed at her little sister’s antics, and picked her up, letting her take her spot on her shoulders as they made their way to the board walk. Amaya smiled goofily at the smell of salt.
This would be the memory that would influence her liking of the Great Lake later on.
“‘Azu, ‘Azu, over there! Cot-ton Can-dy!” Amaya pointed with obvious enthuiasm, and gave Mazu a pointed look. Of course, Mazu didn’t see this, and gave Amaya a bob on the head. It was soft, yet it startled her all the same.
“Amaya,” Mazu hissed, “Cotton candy is for muggles. Are you a muggle? Or are you a filthy mudblood? Where’s your sense of pride? We are Bourne’s. We’re close to being one of the Sacred 28.”
Amaya lowered her hand. She knew Mazu was definitely going to be informing the parents of her slip-up. Amaya let out a soft whimper, and set her head down on Mazu’s head. This seemed to placate her, and Mazu sighed.
“I suppose you’re too young...”
Amaya let a small cheer slip out. She knew that this meant thirteen-year old Mazu wouldn’t be snitching on her today. Mazu let slip a amused smile, hastily clearing it to a haughty look, and they (Mazu) ran to the sand, glad to have worn sandals, and together, they rushed to the waves. Mazu deposited little Amaya, and together they stood there, waves brushing their feet, grinning stupidly, watching the sun set and the resulting blend of perfect, soft, pastel colors. (This may or may not have contributed to Amaya’s love of sunset and sunrise.)
On the way back, Mazu even picked up a single, perfect shell, letting Amaya keep all of the shells she grabbed. Amaya had taken all of the shells in sight, broken or whole.
Amaya ended up only keeping Mazu’s. [/font]
Amaya Elizabeth Bourne
31 Aug 2018, 21:39
The Old Times
[font=PT Sans]Amaya’s next memento was of the year when she’d turned 8. At this point, Mazu was 15.
The mentioned memento was a small page, ripped and cut out of a book.
***
Amaya smirked as she glanced at Mazu, rearranging the pile of goodies on her lap with mild mischievous interest.
Even on the train, with her hand clasped tightly with Amaya’s, Mazu was idly turning the photo of a young Italian man in her photos, sighing dreamily. He had ruffled brown hair, striking emerald green eyes, and a air of elegance around him.
Amaya could already tell that her sister, snarky little Mazu, had a crush on someone. And that someone probably went to the same school(Hogwarts) as her.
“Mazu’s In Loveeeeeee~~”, Amaya teased, poking Mazu. Mazu turned around and gave her a harsh glare, clearing her throat and pocketing it. She gave Amaya a haughty look.
“And what might you be doing, Amaya dear? Bournes. It is not appropriate to do this in public. It is ruining our image,” Mazu growled, a low sound so soft that only Amaya could hear. Amaya stiffened, and moved away from her sister. The sudden loss of warmth was ignored.
Her parents had finally began springing their ideas, their rules, their ideals on her, and she wanted so desperately to live up to them. She and Mazu were growing more and more distant, and as Amaya watched her parents spring so much affection onto her while leaving none for her, she only grew more and more bitter, but she’d learned to keep her expression blank, even beginning to reign her emotions in and fake them. Amaya decided to attempt this on her sister now, as this would be good practice.
As a smile laced with genuine happiness lit up her face, Mazu turned to her. It wasn’t often Amaya smiled, similar to the old Mazu.
“What.”
Amaya’s smile dropped instantly, and she turned to Mazu with a silent expression. “What happened to appearances, my darling sister? Can’t your poor little sister be happy?”
Mazu watched her for a long moment, and Amaya inwardly cringed, knowing a long lecture would be handed out to her and she would be sent to her parents once they arrived home. Yet, to her surprise, Mazu suddenly broke out into a grin.
“My little snake,” Mazu whispered, affectionally ruffling Amaya’s hair. “You’ve grown up well.”
Amaya smiled for real this time, sitting up a little taller. “Really?”
Mazu nodded. “You’re not like the other children of your age. They’re stuck behind foolish fantasies, given perfect little happy childhoods or downright depressing ones because it will make them into the ‘best people’. You’re truly learning well.”
Amaya always saved the small excerpt of the book, among many others, they’d gone out t buy.
It marked the becomings of her mask, (and what they thought of as the becomings of a Slytherin)a mask skillful enough to mold to any situation with ease.
To this day, she’ll still perk up at the words “my little snake.”[/font]
Amaya Elizabeth Bourne
The mentioned memento was a small page, ripped and cut out of a book.
***
Amaya smirked as she glanced at Mazu, rearranging the pile of goodies on her lap with mild mischievous interest.
Even on the train, with her hand clasped tightly with Amaya’s, Mazu was idly turning the photo of a young Italian man in her photos, sighing dreamily. He had ruffled brown hair, striking emerald green eyes, and a air of elegance around him.
Amaya could already tell that her sister, snarky little Mazu, had a crush on someone. And that someone probably went to the same school(Hogwarts) as her.
“Mazu’s In Loveeeeeee~~”, Amaya teased, poking Mazu. Mazu turned around and gave her a harsh glare, clearing her throat and pocketing it. She gave Amaya a haughty look.
“And what might you be doing, Amaya dear? Bournes. It is not appropriate to do this in public. It is ruining our image,” Mazu growled, a low sound so soft that only Amaya could hear. Amaya stiffened, and moved away from her sister. The sudden loss of warmth was ignored.
Her parents had finally began springing their ideas, their rules, their ideals on her, and she wanted so desperately to live up to them. She and Mazu were growing more and more distant, and as Amaya watched her parents spring so much affection onto her while leaving none for her, she only grew more and more bitter, but she’d learned to keep her expression blank, even beginning to reign her emotions in and fake them. Amaya decided to attempt this on her sister now, as this would be good practice.
As a smile laced with genuine happiness lit up her face, Mazu turned to her. It wasn’t often Amaya smiled, similar to the old Mazu.
“What.”
Amaya’s smile dropped instantly, and she turned to Mazu with a silent expression. “What happened to appearances, my darling sister? Can’t your poor little sister be happy?”
Mazu watched her for a long moment, and Amaya inwardly cringed, knowing a long lecture would be handed out to her and she would be sent to her parents once they arrived home. Yet, to her surprise, Mazu suddenly broke out into a grin.
“My little snake,” Mazu whispered, affectionally ruffling Amaya’s hair. “You’ve grown up well.”
Amaya smiled for real this time, sitting up a little taller. “Really?”
Mazu nodded. “You’re not like the other children of your age. They’re stuck behind foolish fantasies, given perfect little happy childhoods or downright depressing ones because it will make them into the ‘best people’. You’re truly learning well.”
Amaya always saved the small excerpt of the book, among many others, they’d gone out t buy.
It marked the becomings of her mask, (and what they thought of as the becomings of a Slytherin)a mask skillful enough to mold to any situation with ease.
To this day, she’ll still perk up at the words “my little snake.”[/font]
Amaya Elizabeth Bourne