Through the Looking Glass (Verrell)

SIXTH YEAR

17 years old

Second Order Pureblood

Rebecca

49 posts

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Through the Looking Glass (Verrell) Feb 10, 2014 20:44:10 GMT -6

Post by Alice Marie Parker on Feb 10, 2014 20:44:10 GMT -6

Classes were slowly coming to a close as the month of December began to fade into the holiday season. There were still things to wrap up and most were scrambling to finalize work or make plans for the actual break itself. Her plans were already set in stone without even a moment of her consent. Like always there were parties to attend, dresses to be worn, and people to impress. The typical schedule for her winter break and Alice knew what to expect the moment that she stepped off the train. However there was a kink to the plan that no one knew about. It was completely out of character but she made plans with a Hufflepuff boy to run off to France and just do normal teenage things. It was no secret that she was speaking with this boy though, it was decent gossip around the Slytherin house. It was the sort of gossip that made the purebloods go silent whenever she walked into the common room, ending their conversation because it involved her as the main topic. Whenever someone whispered and giggled then Alice felt that twinge of fear as she knew that her actions would soon make it back to her parents. How they would deal with it was beyond her yet she felt strangely calm. No matter what they said it did not matter anymore. Alice had taken on this attitude of not carrying but she still walked with her head held high as she always did. Nothing mattered to her anymore. Her school work was slipping because she couldn't keep track of it anymore, nor did she care to. Her pristine appearance began to slide as well. Her uniform shirt was never fully tucked into the skirt, hair placed in a messy bun instead of brushed out, and once she found herself wearing a knee high sock and an ankle sock. The truth was that Alice was going insane and starting to accept her fate.

Dinner time had come and gone and Alice spent the remaining time before curfew just wondering aimlessly around the castle. No one seemed to pay her any attention as she slipped through the hallways and down the staircases until one of the prefects sent her back towards her house. There was no sense in fighting so she turned and began to her decent into the dungeons of Hogwarts until she came across the familiar entrance into the Slytherin common room. It wasn’t quite empty yet but it did lack its usual amount of people, which left Alice opportunity to grab one of the empty chairs by the fireplace. Growing numb to the cold had become a part of her daily life but when the chance emerged for her to sit by the fire she took it. She held her frigid hands up towards the blaze to feel the circulation begin through her fingers. It tingled at first before it began to hurt yet her blue eyes started into the flames as she ignored how her fingertips hurt. A few long moments passed before she pulled her hands back and began to toy with the strands of hair that hung over her shoulder. Slowly and methodically braiding them together, only to undo the style and start over again when she finished. Alice wasn’t even paying attention to the others in the room or even how quiet it seemed to get as time passed. For her it seemed like things were standing still as she continued to avoid sleep out of the lack of desire to seek it. Even if she were to return to her bedrooms and try to find it, sleep would never come. Not without help. The sort of help that came through a potions bottle that left her feeling worse the following morning.

Her petite frame slowly leaning back against the back of the chair as she drew her knees up towards her chest and wrapped her arms around them to hold them in place. Loosely she held onto them as she laid her head to rest against them. Her gaze held onto the sudden movements of the flames, yet she slowly found herself looking back up towards the room. Who was left sitting there avoiding sleep as well? Not many and no one that Alice thought would speak to her even if she was in the mood to talk. Without anything to interest her in the common room she turned back towards the fire to enjoy the warmth of it. Perhaps jumping into it would be a good idea. With that idea in mind she unwrapped her arms and help her hand out towards the flames, as though to warm it again. Only this time she moved her hand closer until the flames began to dance closer to her skin.

Verrell Thierry Chevalier

SEVENTH YEAR
head boy

17 years old

First Order Pureblood

Crushing

Edward

20 posts

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Through the Looking Glass (Verrell) Feb 10, 2014 21:51:02 GMT -6

Post by Verrell Thierry Chevalier on Feb 10, 2014 21:51:02 GMT -6

Sufficient to a midday rapture the train stopped by the station in its habitual gait, slowing down gradually until every single engine detained from spinning and the steam leaked through the front pipe, clogging the machinery with its frothy essence. Verrell’s gaze downed to the newspaper he was holding ever so impatiently. Visits often decayed the French’s mood for amusement, as the soirées he attended consisted of a thronged place with slum interspersed all over the field, as though they needed to span each centimetre of the building, and with no single trace of regards to any of them, as either being conceited to a level of narcissism, it was odd to encounter a decent person to commute words with. The Slytherin was worn out from the toils and he was pretty disgusted with the overall of trysts and reunions. Viviane, his sister, had shunned each of the events, in her old fashion with puttering on her column for the Daily Prophet – he had begrudgingly agreed on joining the festivities, following his mother’s bid. Verrell sighed, although the sigh was flooded with intense rage that exuded through his bearing by the flushed cheeks that seemed to redden his features in an almost inhuman manner.

Clad in his finest clothes, he had nothing better in mind than sneaking into a gal’s abode in the dorms of Slytherin, resorting to a few choices before actually intending himself to it. A white scarf wrapped around his neck, some wool emerald sweater underneath and a pair of impeccable fit jeans clinging to his shape was the perfect attire for a welcoming session by the entrance. He strutted nonchalantly through the threshold in his usual pace, tramping hastily, still wary of keeping all elegance to it. Since the bloke had pretty much devoured everything harboured in the cabin, he was satisfied and he was heedless on skipping supper. Close to evening, it was uncanny he would leap to bed without aliments, though this exceptional occasion was more urged by lust and the throe to have his senses ensnared again. Verrell swerved his path at the usual corner and carried on until the very entrance of the Common Room within the dungeons. The portrait door opened with a crack and he slipped inside in no delay.

Verrell let his lids parted and permitted the dimmed light to prod his pupils, having a whit or so for them to adjust to the obscurity engulfing him. The scent of roses impregnated his nostrils, coming from the tousled golden tresses cascading behind the gal’s nape. Uncertain of the time, he slipped off the bed and reached for the mattress verge, clawing it firmly before stepping on solid ground on his shoes as he began shuffling through the room into the very exit. Shutting the door closed behind, he tossed the shoes away and strolled bare-feet through the stoned flooring, quite careless on the move. However, the flickering shine from the grate reached out for him, summoning his presence to the very staying room where an absentminded loony was seated on the hearth, so close to the fire it seemed as though she wished to char herself. The bloke stared with disbelief as he contemplated the scene, believing it was more of an illusion than an actual happening.

With the rest of his garments, except for the jeans, ditched to the nearest furniture, the bloke scurried hither, with a completely bare torso, exposed to the nearness of flames as he enclosed the girl in a sudden and hectic embrace as he pulled her away from her actual stance. “Longing for death, uh?...” he muttered at her ears, having her held in his arms with strength to prevent her from moving, “…there are less hazardous and painful ways to it…” he mentioned quite brusquely, he tightened the squeeze to calm her down, attempting for her to regain some sanity to her wits.

Last Edit: Feb 10, 2014 22:14:35 GMT -6 by Verrell Thierry Chevalier

Alice Marie Parker

SIXTH YEAR

17 years old

Second Order Pureblood

Rebecca

49 posts

0 likes

Through the Looking Glass (Verrell) Feb 11, 2014 21:15:17 GMT -6

Post by Alice Marie Parker on Feb 11, 2014 21:15:17 GMT -6

This was the first time that the pureblood actually found herself longing to feel the lick of the flames against her pale and delicate skin. The self harming actions were only taken because she lacked the control a sane person should have. Her decent into madness was a slow one but as she thought back to her control during the first year at Hogwarts, she was really able to see the transition from who she was then to who she had become these last few weeks. Ignoring the letters that her mother and father sent her, laughing at her brother when he tried to put her in his place, and participating in self destructive habits. For example she left the castle without a coat about a week ago yet she was able to find comfort in the kindness of a hufflepuff who seemed content to make her happy. It made Alice wonder about the life she would lead once she left Hogwarts. Would there be a kind husband waiting for her at the alter of a chapel or would he end up being the same sort of person that her father was? Then she wondered if her antics would get her thrown out of her family and disowned by the entire community. How awful life would be without the family parties and the smiles that were fake. It sort of made Alice chuckle. Part of her couldn't image how life was supposed to be lived without the falsehoods that she was forced to display while the other part of her did not know how she would endure another moment of it. Another dress made of the finest fabrics to touch her skin but the thought made her flesh crawl under the standard uniform sweater that she wore. The momentary urge to rip it off and throw it into the fire overtook her. Like all things it passed quickly when she felt the heat growing stronger under her hand. The flames grew as the found another source of fuel to attach onto.

Honestly Alice had been too engrossed in her own thoughts to notice that anyone had entered to left the common room. She did not even notice any sort of passage of time so keeping track of people became a chore. Either there were people there watching her and everyone was getting a kick out of her actions or she was alone. A third option of someone standing by about to intervene had not registered either. As her hand moved closer she heard the shuffle of movement that alerted her to the presence of another. His touch only confirmed the gender and that he, unlike others, had no interest in watching her burn her fingertips any further. However the moment that he grabbed her, Alice felt her muscles tense up as though she were ready to fight. Ready to pull away from the stranger that held her close to his chest. There was just a moment where she struggled to free herself and return to the warmth of the fire. However in her weakened state she was only able to hold on for a moment before she grew calm in his grasp. "I am not trying to die." She whispered. Her body going limp as she removed herself from her thoughts and placed herself in the reality. "I am just trying to be warm. Its really cold in here and... and I can't get warm." Her rationale sounded sane enough while the actions she took seemed to prove otherwise. Reality was cold, even wrapped in the warms of another. Slowly she glanced back over her shoulder to take in the face of the man that held her against her will from the flames. Alice was smart enough to know his name and that he was a pureblood like herself.

"Please let go of me Verrell." Her whisper had become a soft plea as she begged for the freedom that she was a moment ago denied. All she was able to do was stay close until he deemed her ready for freedom. Slowly her gaze drifted down ward towards the arms that held her still and then slowly moved up along the way until she reached his shoulders. "Please." Her tone less pleading and more weakened by the realization that outside of his body was the cold that awaited her, which seemed less appealing. It was hard to really know what she wanted when she was at the mercy of someone else entirely. The feeling of conflict was not fun although she was used to feeling torn between what she knew was right and what she actually wanted out of life. And honestly there had been more to the story that her desire to be warm. She always wanted to feel the pain that came with the touch of the flames against her skin. Pain meant that she was alive and right now Alice only felt half alive.