Ⱐ°⧠thatâs ALECTO CARROW and SHE seems to look a lot like MIA WASIKOWSKA. according to ministry files, the PUREBLOOD used to attend HOGWARTS and be in SLYTHERIN. now, theyâre 25 and a âHEALERâ AT ST. MUNGOâS. watchful eyes in your peripheral, goosebumps prickling the back of your neck, an obsession you cannot ignore, sickly weak and deathly pale, sadism that could scare the devil are the best ways to describe them. it doesnât say in their file, but word around the street is that theyâre a DEATH EATER.
BASICS
Character Name: Alecto Carrow
Preferred Pronouns: she/her
Birthday: 13 January 1955
Employment: A healer at St. Mungoâs, specifically in the poisons ward. Alecto loves to experiment, but with the accumulated debt her family subjected to her and her brother, she didnât have the means to fund her own projects. At St. Mungoâs poisons ward, sheâs limitless in the ingredients available for her to create both poisons and remedies (not that the latter will ever see the light of day), as well as endless patients she could⌠test her concoctions on. Those she experiments on are patients who are on their deathbeds, those who wouldnât be missed either for long or at all. Should they die after consuming her poisons, then it was simply their time to go. No one is the wiser.Â
Patronus: Alecto will never be able to cast a Patronus, much to her frustration. She hates not being able to do something, feeling limited in inaccessibility, but thereâs no happy memories for her to draw on to bring about a Patronus. However, it would likely be a lynx: controlling in power, individualistic, and sharp-sighted, as well as quiet, intelligent, and curious.
Boggart: She sees an older woman, a much more beautiful woman who stalks around her with an air of authority and privilege that she was never allowed to have. The mug the woman carries is a sickly green, the faint outline of a skull in its ripples, and Alectoâs mother shoves the poison at her daughter, hissing: You are a disgrace to the Carrow name. Drink your poison, girl: perhaps weâll be lucky enough to see you drop dead. She will never have the beauty that her mother possessed, never have the propriety of a pureblood socialite, but at least she can paint her bedroom walls a deep red, courtesy to palette her motherâs open throat provides.
PERSONALITY TRAITS:Â
[ + ] Sly: Save for her expulsion from Hogwarts, Alecto has always found deceiving people to be pathetically easy. She and Amycus had been sickly from a young age, and everyone pities the sick kid--oh, how she took advantage of that. Iâm too weak to do that, sheâd say with a tremble added to her voice. Push the student down the stairs? With these knobby arms? Her expulsion had been a fluke, something she swore wouldnât happen again. Her lies came easier with age, as did her ability to cover up her illegal experiments: who had something to hide when that something couldnât be proved in the first place?
[ + ] Focused: Her ability to sit down and get her work done in record-time is unrivaled, at least as far as sheâs concerned. Anything beyond her task at hand is a distraction, and a distraction is the last thing she wants. Alecto gets to the end goal for both herself and for others requesting favors of her through a sort of tunnel-vision, but thatâs the way she likes it.
[ + ] Curious: She thanks dear mother for this particular quality of hers. It was Mother who introduced her to poisons and their effects on the human body, as well as anatomy so she could really appreciate how a personâs body can convulse when subjected to the Cruciatus curse. She was enthralled then, watching their muscles jump in response to the pain of poison or a curse, and sheâs still just as fascinated, even if her subjects are much less healthy of late. She wants to know how the body reacts to every extreme she puts it through; she may never be fully satiated.
[ - ] Short-Tempered: Another gift from her family, Alecto is prone to bouts of (sometimes uncalled for) extreme anger. She flies into a rage that involves vials being thrown and unfortunate patientsâ bones being snapped when something goes wrong in her tests, only to be healed and promptly obliviated lest a competent healer question them later on. The only person she tries not to hurt is her brother, but if she does then it simply cannot be helped. Afterward, Alecto never apologizes. She just gets back to work.
[ - ] Manipulative: Sweet words donât mean nearly as much coming from a plain face than they do from a beautiful one, something sheâs secretly envious of her mother for. Still, given the nature of her true work and the environment she grew up in, Alecto had to find her own way to get what she wanted, because being a daddyâs girl wasnât an option for her like it mightâve been with another family. She lathered honey onto the tip of her tongue at a young age and since then, sheâs used it to barter and steal and worm her way into gaining friends in high places, even if the proceeding smile has a slightly unnerving undertone to it. She gets what she wants.
[ - ] Sadistic: No one takes dying patients and feeds them poison with a sane mind. Alecto finds joy in the convulsing bodies of her subjects for the few hours sheâs able to have them alone, taking a mountain of notes with each muscle twitch before adding a spell or a curse to just the right spot to inflict more pain. Itâs her favorite pastime, and sheâs certain she knows more about the reactions of human anatomy versus spell casting and ingested poisons than anyone in the ward, perhaps even the hospital; she canât wait to move on to injecting poisons directly into her subjectsâ veins.
BIOGRAPHY; ( tw for abuse / childhood abuse ahead )
She should have been the envy among the pureblood elite, just as her mother had been before her.Â
Her mother had been graceful, charismatic, a beauty beyond compare, and all eyes turned toward the Carrows after she had announced her pregnancy to see such traits reflected in the eyes of any children she bore, doubly so when twins were announced partway into the pregnancy. Alectoâs first familial disappointment was her own birth, entering the world on a sullen January evening weeks before she was meant to and minutes before her brother. Frail were the bones of a newborn, but that risk was multiplied by their premature birth. Thus began one of many hospital stays throughout Alectoâs childhood, surrounded by tutting healers and bright white walls, reflecting fluorescent lights and nearly blinding her by the tender age of five.
There was something off-putting about her, growing up. Being carted to and from the hospital didnât leave much room for proper childhood development, let alone an education among her peers. Her dependency on vials of medicine borderlined an unhealthy obsession, and at home her mother only encouraged her intrigue toward potions and poisons with her own mixes, sickly green liquids filling the vials and tilting into her mouth as she insisted Alecto build up a tolerance from an early age. Mother wasnât careful, however, and Alecto took vials while she was at home and fed them to the animals that dared to approach the Carrow home, watching squirrels and bugs and, later, dogs and cats thrash against invisible foes coursing their intestines until they fell still in defeat. She drew the scenes on the paper the healers provided her when she couldnât be at home, ignoring the horrified expressions the adults wore as she depicted each detail with morbid fascination.Â
Hogwarts saw an improvement in her health, if only just. The dampness that filled the Slytherin common rooms from its dungeon location echoed the sober atmosphere of the Carrow manor, but away from an absent father and an overbearing mother Alecto found it in herself to thrive--particularly in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts (though she scoured the library for the offensive dark arts as well, eager to see what spells and curses she could make tick). Her peers whispered and laughed without much subtly at her, taunting the beauty she would never have, aggravating her nerves until she snapped. One whisper into Amycusâ ear saw an older student shoved down the steps of the astronomy tower, and Alecto couldnât stop staring at the way her bones were twisted into an all-too unnatural angle. It didnât take much convincing to get Amycus to do her bidding, because she knew her brother wanted it too: wanted to see those who tormented them tormented in return, tenfold. The best part was they never got caught, never left enough evidence to lead back to the twinsâ so-called accidents; at least, until they did. One slip-up saw the Carrow twins standing in a snowstorm, blood splattered on their green robes, and professors dragged them away. Not even the Carrow name could keep their wands from being snapped, but it was enough to get another wand and get them into Durmstrang.
To say it truthfully, Alecto didnât give a ratâs ass about the war Lord Voldemort reigned down upon the wizarding world. She knew about blood purity, knew her brother saw muggleborns as a threat to the world as they knew it, but that wasnât why Alecto took the Dark Mark. How did magic pick and choose which muggles got to see their world? It had to be more than having magical lineage choosing the person at random. Alecto wanted to know how it worked, and only the Dark Lord would let her slice open muggleborns and test their blood. Her potions skills, along with a good bit of fibbing, got her into the poisons ward of St. Mungoâs, a place that she had considered home for half of her childhood. Healing wasnât her end goal, though: testing was. So long as the Death Eaters brought her subjects to experiment on, she would do whatever they wished in whatever fashion they desired--and this time, Alecto would not get caught.
