Little Rabbit
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| xxx | Lottie had started the day perplexed, and since then hadn't been able to shake the feeling. Well, really, she had started the day tired. She had spent the better half of the night prior engrossed in a particularly fascinating book on muggle philosophy she had managed to stumble upon in the Hogwarts library. It shouldn't have taken her so long to plow through it, but there were some mighty big words taking up the long pages, and it soon became necessary to enlist the help of a dictionary as well. By the time she had managed to get to sleep, her mind had been swimming with an entirely new vocabulary as well as a violent headache induced by so much concentration. She tossed and turned for a few hours, rose for water, and then finally passed out cold. It wasn't much long after that the sun woke her from her slumber, and she sluggishly pulled herself together and prepared for the long day ahead. The perplexion had only arrived after she was finished showering, washing her face, brushing her teeth, putting on her robes, fussing over her hair, and then finally stepping out of her dorm for the last time. It was perhaps a lucky thing that she was such a slow riser. She would have otherwise missed the small mechanical rabbit that lay on its side right at the base of the dorm stairs, abandoned by the now-departed mob of Slytherin students. She examined it closely, her fingers gingerly curling around its small frame and lifting it up. It was an ornate little thing, an elaborate collection of cogs and springs and little pieces of scrap metal bent and cut to form ears, a nose, arms and legs, and a tiny little tail. Lottie gently traced the lines and divets that made it up, before looking around confusedly. Surely someone would have noticed if such a precious little trinket had gone missing. She narrowed her eyes and glanced back at the rabbit. And thus the investigation began. The first thing she had deduced was that this little creature belonged to a young wizard by the name of Hana Bakir. She had not met a Hana Bakir, nor did she have any memory of hearing the name in passing. She went first to the sports section of the profit, where she found that this Hana character was not on any of the sports teams. Then, she checked the staff listing, just to confirm it wasn't a prefect or stray professor. When all options failed, she had to turn to what she dreaded the most: asking around. From that point on, the line of individuals that led her to the fabled Hana was long and winding. A first year Slytherin who directed her to a second year Gryffindor who directed her to a prefect who directed her to a portrait who directed her to a professor who finally directed her to a second year Slytherin who informed her of the exact class Hana would be exiting next. After a particularly uneventful Divination lesson, Lottie bolted down the hallway and counted the seconds as she rushed to the supposed location of this Hana. Pushing past protesting students, Lottie clutched the little rabbit to her chest and protected it from prying eyes. Finally, miraculously, she made it to the Transfiguration corridor. Glancing around hurriedly, she attempted to pin down Hana using the cobbled together description provided by the various students. | xxx |
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Little Rabbit |  |
| ✦"You better start walking. Love takes miles."✦ STA 8 │ EVA 8 │ STR 6 │ WIS 6 │ ARC 6 │ ACC 7 |
Little Rabbit
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| xxxxxx | xxxx xxxxxx𝕳ana Bakir was never known to physically express herself; the young girl hilariously lacking in countenance or intonation—a genetic trait evidently passed down from her mother and her mother before her. Despite the monotone disposition, the eldest Bakir daughter was quite the sentimental creature, hording a treasure trove of keepsakes within the dark corners of her bedchambers: a slew of letters from her now-deceased childhood friend, the arrow her younger brothers had successfully shot through an apple perched on her head (she attempted to preserve the apple itself, but it seemed the sands of time didn't ceased to halt for the sake of sentimentality), and her very first training bow gifted by her cousin... amongst other things. One of most importance was a small rabbit gifted by her father dearest. Hana looks back on the day with fondness. Wide eyes watching as a hand reached into his pocket to retrieve a "small gift," a small rabbit—one built of metal scraps and squeaky gears. "You children serve as my most beloved muses," he spoke, eyes twinkling with the same sentimentality he'd ingrained in his daughter. Eyes flickered between the rabbit and Hana, head cocked to the side in observation, "Meticulously crafted, my bitter flower, just as you were." As soon as he placed the gift in her palm, his hands had already relocated themselves—meat hooks latching onto his daughter's gaunt cheekbones. Offering her a maniacal, yet amused, grin, he swayed her face from side to side whilst verbalizing his many contemplations he was having for the day. She missed her father. Greatly. His eccentric yelps had been dulled to rambling words on a page since her departure to Hogwarts. And while the man would send a plethora of letters exhaustively detailing the affairs of the Manor in attempts to extinguish the flames of homesickness, the stories done nothing but stoked the ever-present fires. Oh, how she missed the Manor, the occupants of Hogwarts's obtuse behaviors a stark contrast to that of her family. But, no. Despite outsider perceptions, Hana still consisted of flesh and blood and whatever constructed her brain matter. She was capable of feeling and expressing emotions as any other of her kind could; she wasn't the machinery her father loved to engineer in his spare time. In the most extraneous of circumstance, it expressed itself in overwhelming waves—something Hana was always ill-equipped to handle. She hadn't quite tipped off the edge yet, but she could slowly feel herself stepping closer and closer to the edge of her mental fortitude. Owlishly blinking her eyes, Hana hastened out of her last class. Black heels clicked against the linoleum floors of the castle, quickly taking her into an empty corridor. After a near collision with the wall, Hana collapsed into a puff of black frills and lace on the floor. The young girl heaved, clawing the Slytherin robe off her body—leaving her in nothing but the rest of her uniform. Balling her hand into a fist, she slotted it into her mouth to serve as a pseudo-muffler; it would be rather unfortunately if someone were to discover her in her miserable state. Insincerely, Hana Bakir ────────────────────────────────── xxxxxOOC Notes: Banner made by Fire Davies :> Hi @Charlotte Winfield, sorry this took a bit to get out to you! Hope you enjoyed nonetheless 
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Little Rabbit
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| xxx | In all truth, Lottie didn't understand sentimentality in the same way that most did. She understood it objectively, the fact that some things held more value than others to certain people if only due to certain events or memories those objects may hold. She had her letters, of course, and perhaps her books, but these were fleeting things. She didn't display her letters on bookshelves or sleep with her books clutched to her chest. They were material things, nowhere close to the true hold of her sister. But, factually, undeniably, there was a certain note of memory that sentimental objects held. When she clutched the fragile little rabbit to her chest, she could feel years of age in the sharp lines and rusty metal. There was a weight of importance that it maintained, so strong that Lottie couldn't imagine how one couldn't notice its disappearance. As she weaved through the steady flow of students and staff, she wanted to hold it up in order for the mystery girl to perhaps catch sight of it, but she feared that removing it from where it was safely snuggled into her chest would harm it. She kept having to remind herself that it wasn't a real rabbit, but her heart spoke otherwise, frustratingly so. By the time she made it to the end of the hall, Lottie's hope was running thin. Students had already mostly filed out, and the corridors had become a sudden wasteland of gentle flames and stone walls. Lottie turned down to the left, sighing softly. She pulled the rabbit away from her carefully, examining it with a pitiful expression. "Sorry, little rabbit," she whispered softly, pressing a slender finger to its nose, "Seems you're all alone." That was when she heard it. A muffled, nearly indiscernible sound that echoed once off the hollow walls. Slowly, Lottie retracted the rabbit back towards her and crept forward, eyes glancing carefully along each crevice and corner until she startled into a girl, tucked against the wall with a fiercely devastated manner to her. Lottie opened her mouth to say something, anything, but words escaped her. She just stared for a heavy moment, gnawing at her bottom lip, clutching the little metal rabbit like a lifeline. | xxx |
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Little Rabbit | |
| ✦"You better start walking. Love takes miles."✦ STA 8 │ EVA 8 │ STR 6 │ WIS 6 │ ARC 6 │ ACC 7 |