Post by Brigita Litvak on Apr 30, 2011 17:19:30 GMT -8
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September 9th 2011
11.05 am
For the part veela witch who had spent her whole childhood growing up in Diagon Alley, Brigita's knowledge of the muggle world was fairly limited. Despite the fact she had (according to her mother) a muggle father, Brigita had never spent any real time there. Why would she when she lived somewhere as amazing as the Alley? The rest of London seemed so... boring in comparison. And yet... It had become her new bolt hole. A few of the members of the Order had suggested it. Right now the Muggle world was the safest place with her. It also helped that the Ministry still thought she was abroad. That would never last though unless she stayed indoors for 24 hours a day and Brigita was just not that sort of person. She refused to be chased into hiding and become useless to the people who'd pretty much saved her ass. Merlin, Brigita dreaded to think what would have happened if she hadn't smashed into Malcolm Steel. She'd be back in Ministry hands for sure, but whether she'd be in a collar again was debatable. With everything the ministry said about her, the lies that had been spread through the Profit, she would bet on the fact she'd be made an example off. What that meant could be anything and honestly? Brigita didn't want to find out.
But she wasn't stupid, she wasn't out for no reason. No... Brigita has a plan. She hadn't told anyone in the safe house because they'd call her reckless but the nineteen year old inside her wanted nothing more than her mother. Agata Litvack had returned to Russia without her daughter after being injured in the Diagon Alley attacks. Brigita just wanted to get word to her, just something small, promising her mother she was alright and alive. Easier said than done. She couldn't very well send an owl, or anything normal like that, though she had come up with an idea which seemed safe enough.
Muggle mail.
The envelope, with a hap hazard address and around eight stamps was shoved into her jacket pocket. Now all she needed was a post box.
As she wandered down the street she was dressed in some muggle clothes she's borrowed from others. Blue jeans, light brown ankle boots, a tshirt that was slightly too big and a leather jacket with the hood firmly up. Honestly Brigita couldn't remember the last time she'd worn muggle clothes, they felt odd. But she couldn't exactly walk down the street in a robe and cloak without causing attention. Mind you she didn't need odd clothing to gain unwanted looks and advances. No her 25% Veela did that did that on it's own. That's part of the reason her hood was firmly up (along with hiding her face from anyone who had perhaps seen her face in the Profit) because she didn't like the stares and advances. Hiding her face was honestly the easiest way.
Brigita turned the corner without paying much attention to where she was walking. She wondered, not for the first time since stepping into the muggle world how hard it could be to find one of those huge red mail boxes, they seemed everywhere unless you actually needed one.