Dream A Little Dream Of Me
✤ 25 Aug 2024 ✤ English | Spanish | Italian | Portuguese | thoughts |
Outfit ✤ 1080 words ✤ |
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Last edited by Lyanna Oak on 31 Mar 2025, 19:44, edited 2 times in total.
| xxxxx | ⊹✧𝖫𝖸𝖠𝖭𝖭𝖠 ~ ency ☼ 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 ☼ |
⋮ ⋮ |
⊹ Sta 6 | Eva 10 | Str 7 | Wis 4 | Arc 4 | Acc 10 ⊹ ─── ‿︵˓ ʚ♡ɞ ˓ ︵ ‿ ─── |
⋮ ⋮ |
xxxxx |
Dream A Little Dream Of Me
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𝙸𝚂𝚂𝚄𝙴 №. 001 |
?????????????????? | 𝑸𝑼𝑶𝑻𝑰𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑵????????𝑸𝑼𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑺 |
???? | 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙻𝚈 𝙴𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽 |
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banner courtesy of Adeline Spinks═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════
𝙰𝚄𝙶𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝟸𝟻𝚃𝙷, 𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙸𝚂𝚂𝚄𝙴 |
𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 |
𝙵𝙻𝙾𝚄𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙷 & 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝚃𝚃𝚂, 𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙶𝙾𝙽 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝚈 |
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“𝚂𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙱𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈 𝙱𝚈 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃”
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One would think, particularly the shopkeeper of Flourish & Blotts, that there is a muggle child lost in Diagon Alley. Aurelia Margaret Valentine is not lost, thank you very much. She did not stumble here as though it was fate, she was endorsed to Hogwarts to study magic, to enhance the prowess her vessel bottled all these years, suppressed, but it is there. Meek, deep brown eyes scanned the aforementioned shop, her mind expecting of such magical traps she does not know about. Her mother, Cordelia, is off to Gringotts Wizarding Bank and she instructed her daughter to pick all the textbooks she would need for this upcoming school year. Magical. Sometimes she could not wrap her little head around it, half-expecting this all to be child's play. A magic trick. One could not impress all, in all actuality. Gripping her shopping list written on her small notebook with all strength she could, she entered Flourish & Blotts hesitantly like a cautious soldier that is heading to battle. She knows she stands out in the Wizarding World, as upon observation of adult witches and wizards, they sported eccentric robes in all colours, with different indescribable patterns which heavily reminded her of cable-knit sweaters. A natural frown is, of course, a permanent and resting expression on her face but this frown she sported in her young face is all pure uncertainty and bewilderment. Judging and assessing someone's choice of clothing is never an action one would expect from her as she also has distorted sense of fashion compared to her mother, but these wizards and witches do implicates something she might and soon would understand. The prospect of seeing these tacky robes is a horrifying suggestion though, to say the least. She is also aware of the fact that one's fashion choices are their way of expressing themselves, whatever questionable is brewing inside. This, of course, applies to the world she was raised in. The young girl sported a tee shirt with a frog in the middle, no one questions that back in Croydon. The looks she got though, pierced through her as though daggers. Flourish & Blotts, the bookshop in Diagon Alley. The interior made her imagine this instead is a magical scholar's study room, without the clear shop window on the front with a poster that personally announces Magical Me of Gilderoy Lockhart is now 30% off, which Aurelia perceived as something incredible of a bargain, however she knows nothing about business talk and never had a real passion in it, although she very much loves the clink sounds of coins or the indescribable—perhaps old paper—smell of paper bills. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she searched for her mother through the shopping window, overlooking the cobblestone path of Diagon Alley just to see if she has arrived. To no avail, of course, she concluded that the line must be long—like all banks, in particular. They operate so slow and that is a reoccurring inconvenience; something she will talk about in a much later date. A fire hazard, the first thought that comes to mind as soon as she saw the candles sitting on one of the stack of books, lighting this particular area. She figured she would see this sight a lot in the other areas of the shop, procuring a heart or perhaps anxiety attack with this especially for someone like her who is overly cautious and over think things thoroughly as though one mishap will be the first stepping stone of the Apocalypse. Whipping out her list again, although this shoppjng list is already memorised by heart, she once consulted before heading off her way towards one of the towering bookshelves that is labelled Everything About Potions, as Magical Drafts and Potions immediately is on the top of her list. Aurelia loves reading books and learning, in particular, since she was a child. If one expects a summation of her character, a quick summation, it will be concluded that she reads a lot and is remarkably knowledgeable for her age. She never did act like her age at all, all thanks to her self-inflicted independence as soon as she came upon the realisation that her mother needed to juggle around multiple jobs to give her the most of life, or what it could offer in their class—where they inevitably stood. Someone like her, never took underestimation very lightly. She is aware of the maturity she wielded and purposefully sharpen this as she perceived it as her only weapon. Education can never be stolen, can never be coveted by the greedy. The clever always wins, is the perception she always holds dear in her heart. "Fancy a basket, dear? Do you need help with anything?" The young girl was snapped out of her thoughts as soon as the quivering voice of a house-elf echoed within the bookshelves. She whipped around, her long curls whipping with the sudden movement—only to see a little creature before her, within pointed ears and hooked nose, their eyes comically large, the green orbs sitting on it like marbles. Mouth opened unashamedly, she assessed the entirety of the being. They are little and unimaginably skinny, and appeared old with their wrinkly skin. They did not looked mistreated or anything, as their clothing is all clean and looked particularly pressed. Shaking her head slightly, Aurelia immediately responded as she became aware of her manners. "No thanks. But I will take the basket, of course, thank you." Holding the basket with her little hand, it took her no time at all to collect all the books that are going to be necessary for her education in Hogwarts. Seeing that her mother is still not back from Gringotts Wizarding Bank, she decided to stall and look around for interesting books she might fancy to buy, practicing all the begging she would have to do to her mother for this selection to be permitted. She stopped in her tracks as soon as her keen deep brown eyes caught the sight of a girl, sharing the same height as her, and sported a beautiful chestnut brown hair with neat waves that cascaded down her back. Ever since the young witch came upon the realisation that her hair is quite unmanageable and quite big for one's field of vision—an exaggerated approach, of course—the first thing she would notice to the girls her age is how their hair appeared manageable, to say the least. Absent-mindedly, her nimble fingers reached for her large mane and attempted to comb it. When she had gain no results, she started patting down the rebellious curls that unceremoniously stick in all directions imaginable. Aurelia always wondered the prospect of her long curls to be somewhat sentient, as it is quite picky with the weather too. No use, better get on with shopping, she eventually thought and swerved to the next bookshelf. Until, of course, she heard what the girl muttered, involving the matters of the Wizarding World underestimating the wonders "muggle" books offer, associating it with one of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books. A crease can be seen growing on Aurelia's forehead, the term muggle snatched her attention back to the girl. "Whatever do you mean by muggle? What does that have to do with The Great Gatsby?" Aurelia could not help but blurt out a question, her Mary Janes making a clicking sound against the marbled floors along with the decision of approaching the girl. Her eyebrows are knitted together as though she was challenging the girl to answer her question, like it was a confrontation. This brunette girl clearly was raised in the Wizarding World, would also mean that she knows more than her who only barged in here to start studying magic and hone her prowess. A tug in her heartstrings reminded her that she was incredibly behind, and her deep brown eyes flashed with a glint of eagerness, demanding answers. |
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@Lyanna Oak |
𝙿𝙰𝚈 𝙵𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝚂𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝙴𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽! |
@Lyanna Oak |
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memento mori; memento vivere
1,315 wc
1,315 wc
| [ the golden girl; the harshness of such warm light ] | xxxxxx | ★ lucien alexandre de montfort |