Post by morgana on Aug 26, 2011 17:59:37 GMT -8
20 september, 2011, thursday -- sometime near midnight
"we'll tell each other lies,
like we tell the truth.
[/i]"[/size][/font][/size]like we tell the truth.
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There was a saying that went down from generation to generation, something that made most children shiver, because, what if they had stepped on a crack and broke there dear, old mothers back? For Morgana Penn, stepping on a crack never meant breaking the back of her loving mother. It meant breaking all sanity that was left inside of her. Indeed, Morgana was more then some adolescent witch. She had stepped upon the crack, metaphorically symbolizing a breaking point for her near-death experience and her former glory. She was more then some witch nowadays. Not many people knew it, but she was far from some brave Gryffindor with a bit of spunk and a soft spot for the weak and lonely. She became someone else. Not entirely, but she figured it might as well have been.
She was used to the monthly cycle of the moon by now. She had a calculator for it, a calendar, and so much more. She kept track of it every night, every day. She had too, because if she ever missed a date, well, there would be chaos in Gryffindor Tower, then move throughout the entire school, and she would find herself either killed or worse. For her, certainly, just hearing the word expulsion sent shivers down her spine. She would hate to leave her new home, her friends. But what could she do in a place like this when she was a monster, so to speak? Becoming some carnivorous beast was never what she had wanted, expected. She was jumped by the monster, and how could one escape the jaws of a drooling werewolf without suffering some wounds?
Being bit by them is not like being lashed by a house fire.
Morgana huddled in her stripped gray-and-white sweater, her arms folding across her chest after slipping into the black vest. She liked the feel of the faux fur that tickled her neck as the chilled wind blew by. It was welcoming almost. She shivered as she moved down the muddied path of Hogsmeade. She wore fingerless gloves that did little to keep her hands warm, and despite her long hair falling over her ears, they still felt a little chilly. Despite how urgent it was to get to the Shrieking Shack, she wanted to watch the lights of the shops in the little village before the moon made its way from beneath the clouds. The storm had come much earlier then she anticipated, but the rain did little to bother her. She was cold to the bone, her skinny jeans soaked and her boots covered in mud. But she knew she could make for another few moments.
Thoughts ran through her mind as her feet moved quicker, her pace increasing to a near jog. Her arms shifted slightly from across her chest, elbows bent as she made her way down the somewhat emptied streets. Few wizards and witches stood outside, drinking or gamboling, chatting or laughing about the latest gossip that ravaged the village. It was hard not to pick up a few of the latest news that flashed about.
"Did you hear? There was a fight in the Three Broomsticks about the Order and the Death Eaters. Neither of them were followers, but they seemed pretty offended by the other."
"Let me tell you what I heard on the streets the other day..."
Morgana rounded a corner, nearly colliding into a wizard. She froze for a moment, hands up in surrender as the man grumbled, pushing her out of his way and carried on. she shivered again and picked up her pace to a run. Coming across the Three Broomsticks, her eyes widened with both excitement and a little curiosity. How was there so little people in the pub? Where were the workers? She slowed her pace as she neared the door, staring at the large wooden thing. Her blue eyes focused on the doorknob for a moment, her fingers wrapping about the cold bronze, twisted, and pushed the door open. A gust of warmth from the fireplace hit her hard. It was certainly welcoming in here, she noted as she stood, her fingers curling into balls as she stood awkwardly in place, her eyes flickering from one end of the room to the other.
If she had to, she would lie about who she was, her age, where she came from. Yes, it seemed to be a good plan, no doubt about it. Could she get into trouble for sneaking about as a student? Morgana certainly hoped not. She bit on her bottom lip, tucking a sheet of blonde hair behind her left ear and stepped forward slightly, hesitating. She should turn back, despite how warm it was in here. But then again, shelter seemed rather lovely at this moment. And there was hardly a soul about. They would likely leave, right? She certainly hoped so. Morgana cleared her throat, parting her lips slightly as she spoke. At first, it was almost a whisper, then she cleared her throat again and spoke up a bit more, nearly yelling. "Excuse me, but is anyone working here?"ladies and gentlemen, i have managed to find a lot of words, thanks to the wonderful post from lex. i decided to quote a song from ellie goulding. this is a product of beth, so please do not think of stealing. on another note, i have managed to get some muse after all. yay~