✘; P O I S O N

- What is your Full name? Include any maiden names, aliases, or nicknames.

- When is your birthday? Do you know where you were born and at what time?

- What is your star sign? Do you know your Chinese Zodiac too?

- What is your earliest memory that you can remember?

- Where was your childhood home? Was it more urban or rural?

- How was your childhood in general? Did your parents treat you well? Did you have a lot of friends?

- How was/is school? What is your favorite and least favorite subjects? What were your grades on average?

- Did you have a best friend growing up? What was their name? Are you still in touch?

- Were you in any cliques?

- Best childhood memory you can recall?

- Worst childhood memory you can recall?

- Name an event in your childhood that has shaped you into the person you are today

- What is the dumbest thing you have ever done to impress someone? Were they impressed or was it all for naught?

- Did you ever have any sweethearts or lovers? Do you have a boy/girlfriend?

- Are you a virgin?

- Do you ever plan on getting married in your life? Do you want kids?

- Would you rather have your own kids or adopt? How many kids would you want?

- Do you think you’d be a protective parent or a relaxed parent?

- How would you prefer to pass away? Surrounded by loved ones and at peace, or while doing something heroic?

- Generally, how healthy are you? Do you get sick or injured easily or are you fit?

- Have you ever been badly injured before?

- What is the worst injury you have ever gotten? What was it and how did it happen? Were you ever close to death?

- How many times have you been to the hospital/doctor’s?

- Have you ever had a concussion or brain injury? Have you ever had amnesia?

- What was the worst illness you ever contacted? Do you know what it was? How long were you sick?

- Ever had any extended hospital stays? What for?

- Have you ever had to give yourself or someone else emergency first aid? What happened?

- Are you employed? Where do you work and who do you work for? What do you do?

- Are you happy with your current job?

- Did you have any previous jobs? What were they and what did you do?

- Most dangerous thing you have ever done?

- Do you consider yourself a more active person or a more relaxed person?

- What is your dream come true? How about your worst nightmare?

- What is the biggest and most important goal you have set for yourself?

- How persistent would you say you are? How much does it take to get you to give up on a task?

- Would you surrender yourself to your enemies or fight to the very end?

- When do you usually do your shopping? What is currently on your shopping list?

- Top three things on your wishlist?

- Currently, what is something you want but do not need?

- Do you like shopping? What is your favorite thing to shop for?

- What is the most expensive thing you have purchased? Was it worth it?

- What would you do if you were suddenly given one billion dollars out of the blue?

- What would you describe your style of clothing as?

- Do you have any hobbies? Name all of them if you can.

- Do you like and appreciate art? What is your favorite piece of artwork?

- Do you like music? What is your favorite style of music?

- Have you ever seen any musicals? What is your favorite?

- What are your top three favorite animals? What would you say your “Patronus” or “Spirit Animal” is?

- What are your top three favorite colors?

- What is your favorite season? Do you prefer hotter or colder weather? Do you like snow at all?

- What kind of flavors do you prefer: Sweet, Sour, Bitter, Spicy, Dry, or Umami (savory meat taste)?

- Can you cook at all?

- What is your favorite dish? Can you prepare it? Do you have the recipe handy?

- What is your favorite fruit and vegetable?

- What is your favorite dessert? What is your favorite type of candy/treat?

- What is the best thing you have ever had the opportunity to eat? What is the worst?

- Do you like to drink tea or coffee? Any favorite flavors?

- Describe your sense of humor.

- What is one thing you are justly proud of?

- Do you have any religious beliefs? If not, have you ever been to a church service?

- What would you say is the worst thing someone has done to you? What is the meanest thing someone has ever said to you?

- What is the worst thing you have done to someone? What is the meanest thing you have said to anyone?

- Share the latest entry in your diary/journal.

- What is the most precious thing you own? Is it valuable at all?

- Talk about someone you know. It can be someone you either like or dislike.

Gilderoy was adamant that he wouldn’t easily trust the woman before him again, yet the willingness with which he followed her to a back room of the dark shop proved how difficult it would be to forget his gullible nature. He needed to talk to her, to tell her how he felt, and above all find the answers the questions that had been endlessly haunting him for past weeks. He was a sensitive man to a specific extent ― simultaneously very willing to be upset about a lack of beauty sleep or new wrinkle and very unwilling to confront emotions that often demanded to be handled before they could be forgotten, like betrayal. He didn’t enjoy the task of acknowledging unsavory feelings that would certainly lead to unpleasant interactions, which was the primary reason why he strived to avoid them. It had been so easy ― too easy to discuss his feelings with Femme Fatale, and as they walked into the dark room, he had to remind himself that she and Cassandra were one and the same. 

The eerie decor of the room reminded him of a scene from a movie that his sisters had forced him to watch when he was young. He couldn’t remember the title and didn’t want to, either, as he vividly remembered going to sleep that night with tears in his eyes and a new fear of all things scary that would only grow as he did. Standing before Cassandra, it was the first time he had been granted the opportunity to be heard yet hesitated to speak. Though Gilderoy considered himself an experienced improviser, that moment proved that he could only do so in convivial situations. “I guess I don’t really know what to say. That’s a first, huh?” The small chuckle he forced out faded into the thick air between them as quickly as it appeared. Accustomed to deflecting the anger of others with humor or charm or pure distraction, it appeared that he had begun to do so to his own feelings as well. He wondered how long that had been going on for. 

“It’s a weird feeling to be talking to you now when just two weeks ago I didn’t know ― nobody knew…” It was easier to be mad at her when she was only a memory. “Nero gave me your letter. I still don’t know everything, and I’m fairly certain that I don’t want to know everything, but… I want to know why you lied to me for so long.” More than that, he wanted to know how she did it. “You could have told me who you were at the Selwyn Ball, or at least before I involved Ed in everything. I didn’t know what to call us but I thought we were friends in the very least, but I didn’t even know you at all. That hurts, you know. I don’t just trust everyone I come across.” 

While standing in her quiet, little shop, Cassandra felt truly at home. She’d completely renovated the old, dusty shop and removed some of the unnecessary skulls and bones that had almost nothing to do with the shop itself. After seeing Gilderoy in her shop, however, she knew she’d made the right decision of removing everything her father clung to. Still it possessed almost the same scary interior accompanied by darkness, old artifacts and powerful, dark objects. The only change were the boneless counter and a bit of red here and there which made Borgin & Burkes almost look like a dimly lit esoteric shop covered in red. But as much as she felt at home -- seeing him like this immediately made her feel uneasy, a bit nervous. He looked nervous as well, tired and torn. She couldn’t blame him after everything she’d told him, but others, such as Amos and Walden, didn’t leave after seeing her memories. Maybe they were just too bewitched or hopeful to see a change in her with the latter hoping to bring out the worst, most decadent in her. 

“I don’t expect you to say anything,” she then cut through the silence, sharp and yet hopeful he’d hear the worry in her voice. “And it was much easier having you believe I’m not the monster Femme Fatale is writing about, the one who has been trained to kill and whose wrongdoings now haunt you.” Cassandra scratched her arm, stood in front of him with with insecurity clearly visible in her body language. She doubted herself, at how much she’d burdened him with and how much of it she should’ve kept for herself. Alas, the letters were like a release, each stroke of ink a weight lifting off of her shoulders because someone knew about how cruel she could be. “Who’s that?” she then asked, masking herself from even knowing Nero, from being him. “Oh, the guard,” a slight chuckle escape her.

“Why?” she stopped as the thought lingered in her mind even though she knew the answer right away. Now sitting down in front of him she began to finally answer “I’ve never a friend and I didn’t want you to hate me. You were fascinated by me, weren’t you? Femme Fatale? A woman who leads men to their destruction and is a common archetype in literature? I knew you, I cared for you -- and I knew you’d listen to me when no one else would, because you are an adventurer. It was never my intention to hurt you by being two-faced.” Cassandra sighed. “I didn’t want to lose you, so I kept this charade alive, but now with me being trapped in pureblood society and my freedom has been a short journey I’ll never forget, it was now time to reveal myself to you, hoping that, after everything, we find some sort of closure. I will die soon, I know I will -- and I didn’t want you to be left wondering who I am. If you want to know everything I will show you everything just like I showed Amos Please, Gilderoy. I never meant to hurt you. Please,” her voice broke 

“If you’re hungry, then eat.” An even smaller amount of sympathy was granted in response to her hurting wounds. “Well, you know you gave those scratches to yourself. They’ll heal soon,” He said. His tone was gentle and yet dismissive, as though he were attempting to convince a child that their injuries were nothing to cry or even speak about. Entering the room further, Walden moved to the small counter top area to pour himself a cup of tea. It was by no means his beverage of choice, especially as of late, but despite the many rules of working at the Ministry he had recently dared to break, drinking while on the clock wasn’t one of them. It was dangerous, given his profession as Executioner and his severe mistrust of the coworkers around him. A part of the man knew, too, that if he allowed himself to drink freely then he may never stop. Addiction ran through his veins, and he had watched too many relatives make permanent fools of themselves by succumbing to it. 

Her praise made him shift on his feet. He had never been one for accepting compliments, especially when the compliment commended him for simply doing what was expected. With his back to Cassandra, he clicked his tongue. “I never wanted you to die,” He countered. Carrying his drink to the table, he sat across from her. “I wanted you to come back, Cassandra ― back where you belong. Now you can be with your family and marry Augustus or Rosier or whoever else wants to put a ring on your finger. It’s possible to have freedom and respect.” There were plenty of people in their community who did as they pleased while maintaining their reputation. He thought her generation in particular was rather skilled at doing so. I don’t expect you to understand that yet. To climb steep hills requires a slow pace at first.” 

Walden easily knew everything Cassandra did, albeit the urge to ask about any information she may have heard regarding Emma Vanity was difficult to ignore, even if only because it had been the first inquiry he asked to anyone else he saw that week. He swallowed a sip of his tea, and with it the question he knew would only be a waste of his breath. “I don’t care much for the others who work here,” He confessed. “If they fear you then they’re fearing a painted devil, for now. Give it time, and they won’t dare to whisper your name.” 

She’d always seen Walden as some sort of predator, an animal, and she was his prey -- and his impulses told him to devour her. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing he approached her, but Cassandra immediately looked away. Closing her eyes, she breathed in heavily, to calm herself down, drown out his words. But his words immediately caused her to pull out her wand and pour herself some coffee into a ministry mug. She still stood up, however, as he moved closer, and grabbed the mug herself, using her own hands to pour in sugar and milk into the black coffee. Simultaneously Cassandra grabbed herself another mug filled with trifle and a few buttered biscuits. She really couldn’t be bothered with eating something healthy, but then again she decided to grab an apple just for good measure. Returning to her seat she mostly ignored Walden, physically at least, but mentally she listened to his every word. 

“I won’t have a say in who I marry or who I want to be, and deep down in your...heart,.” she chuckled, shaking her head “you know I’m right.” She dug the spoon deep into the trifle and scooped out her first bite. Finally, something normal, sugary. “I will never understand -- I’m a woman; I have been taught not to understand and seek freedom from the society I was born into,” she finally looked at him -- and she could feel her entire body paralyze in fear. It wasn’t much his appearance but more the memories of being hunted, of being trapped for a whole month. With her jaw clenched tightly, Cassandra shook her head once again. “Fear me? Like you? I don’t want to be feared. I don’t want to be a subject of the Dark Lord nor of you.”

Biting into the apple she forced herself to be quiet and rather chew. Even the sweet apple left a bitter aftertaste. “We know what we are now, but not what we may become,” Cassandra added, though her words and current emotions evoked in her nothing but pain, thanks to the Imperius Curse, no less. “Wouldn’t it be much easier if I’d just leave and never return? If I’d die or you hand me over so you’re done with me? Or are you seriously getting attached to me right now?” she raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of an executioner sparing a traitor, Walden.”

evening, august 27th, 1979 restaurant, wizarding london. @cassandraburke

            Cassius hadn’t seen Cassandra since April. It may have only been a few months but it felt like decades. When she’d appeared back in the world, returned from wherever she had been, he sent her a simple owl:

            I don’t like the way things were left between us. Meet me for dinner at that fancy restaurant our parents used to always drag us to? I’ll be there at seven on August 27th. I really hope to see you.             -Cassius

            Things had been insane in the time since he last saw her, but there were things they needed to discuss. The timing of her disappearance with Augustus’s release had always bothered Cassius. So many things weren’t settling in his mind with the situation. He didn’t know what Cassandra had done, but he didn’t believe it was anything good. Then again, who was he to complain? He had made a deal with her and she had promised to get Augustus back. She held up her end of the deal, regardless of whatever she had to do to make it happen. 

            Regardless, he still wanted to talk to her and he hadn’t lied in his letter when he said he didn’t like the way things had been left. So, there he sat, at a corner table as far from other customers as possible, hoping that would give them at least a bit of privacy. Now there was nothing for him to do but wait.

She remembered most of her childhood, remained especially fond of her friends and the memories linked to them. Cassandra remembered playing with other children her age and a bit older, playing hide and seek at important pureblood events like weddings or yet another masquerade, all while her father talked to the Rosier’s, the Mulciber’s, the Carrow’s, the Black’s -- she remembered feeling happy, even while surrounded by an abundance of Purebloods whose main desire remained both power and prestige. 

Standing within Rodolphus’ office, Cassandra gazed over to the newest visitor. She’d drowned out the voices and barely registered what they were talking about. Though she’d tried to find any of it interesting or worth listening to, she couldn’t stand Rodolphus’ voice ever since being ‘promoted’ to his assistant. It was only after her owl flew through the opened window and saw on her shoulder that Cassandra snapped out of her trance. Reading the letter, Cassandra couldn’t help but smile. She missed them all, one way or another -- though her happiness was immediately replaced with a weariness. She’d promised Augustus’ freedom, but only later found out about Amos had done to Augustus, what her promise really caused in the end. 

Following his request, Cassandra took a trip down memory lane, entering the restaurant that she hadn’t been in since four years, and looked around. Quite a few people looked up towards her, some with a weariness, some with amazement, some with utter disgust. One didn’t look up at all. Approaching the man Cassandra felt herself walk a bit faster. Luckily for her he’d chosen a rather private corner. Before she could even fully reach him Cassandra started addressing him “Cassius,” Cassandra gushed as she sat down in front of him, already stretching out her left arm towards him. “You are well, I’m glad.” She examined him for just a moment before looking into his eyes. “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing by meeting me here? I’m certainly not good company for any of his followers. Please don’t tell me Augustus is...” she raised one eyebrow “is he alright?”

MYTHOLOGY AESTHETICS: Hades and Persephone (Modern)

The free will to remain isolated from the war and society was the only sacrifice Walden Macnair acknowledged when swearing his loyalty to Lord Voldemort. If anyone asked, they would hear that he was grateful for even the opportunity to make such a sacrifice for their cause. The loss of freedom in one aspect of his life was so easily compensated for in others that it was never dwelled upon. There came a time in every person’s life when they had to decide on their beliefs and character, and in times of war, it was every citizen’s responsibility to choose a side to fight for. As Cassandra would quickly learn, the world was only black and white ― there was always a right and a wrong. One had to be loyal to the community that raised them, and if their alliances betrayed their own blood then they had to be punished. It was the way things had always been ― the simple balance of life. As both a Death Eater and Executioner, Walden felt as though it was his sole responsibility to enforce the rules created by nature itself. “Is that so? I hope you’ve enjoyed it then, because that’s going to end tonight.” 

As the magic coursed through his wand, his blue eyes widened. The corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably and he felt a temptation to laugh. Perhaps it was the adrenaline of performing such a curse that presented him with a feeling of giddiness, but more likely than not it was the sight of Cassandra Burke under his curse. If he were an artist, he would paint the scene before him, her eyes wide and mouth agape, and hang it in a place where only he would ever see it. In a way he did, as the memory wasn’t one he would soon be forgetting. His wand shook with the force of the curse. For the first time since he met the woman, he understood why other men found her so alluring. Her screams clashed with the sudden thunder outside, and he wondered what it would sound like if she were screaming his name, instead. 

When he lifted the curse, he granted her a moment of recovery, watching with hungry eyes as her chest rose and fell. He dove towards the floor to avoid her curse, grunting heavily at the impact on his ribs. His body wasn’t as young and able as it used to be, and it wasn’t until he suffered his injury on the night of the Ministry takeover that he truly began to notice his own limitations. Cassandra’s curse shattered a nearby lamp, a shard of which gave Walden a healthy cut near the corner of his eye. Ignoring the blood that began to drip down his cheek, he bared his teeth at her and pulled himself back to his feet. “I don’t want to kill you, Cassandra. If you die tonight, it’ll be nobody’s fault but your own. Remember that.” The man started towards her, his heavy footsteps further crushing the broken glass beneath them. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep throwing curses like that. I just need you to be a doll and come home with me tonight. You’re good at that sort of thing, aren’t you?”

She’d thought about dying once before in her life, just after Evan Rosier disfigured her Dark Mark and ruined her life, in more ways than that. This whole disaster started and ended with her though, and she knew her love and indiscretions had given her nothing but grief. A Pureblood woman wasn’t meant to love a Halfblood or Muggleborn. Alas, Cassandra always wanted to be free and love had been just an added extra to her desires, to finally push her over the edge. Her following uncertainty and every lie stacked on top of another slowly let her world fall into pieces, leading her to Orion Black’s lake house and her only companion: the executioner. If Orion would come to visit her again? Would he fight Walden for her? She could hardly think right now as her entire body started to ache. The curse had been lifted seconds ago and yet she could feel some of the effects lingering in her tissues and in her brain, like voltage running through her. Cassandra’s body shook and with that her chest lifted in an unsteady rhythm, followed by coughing and panting. The same fear -- the same fear ran through her entire being. With the only option being fight or flight, Cassandra opted to fight, not accept any negotiations like she’d done previously. They’d lead nowhere. “Right,” she chuckled briefly. Standing up slowly Cassandra tried to balance her weight again, find her center to fight him once more. 

Cassandra quickly lifted her hand and ran two fingers over her hair which by now felt rather sticky and wet -- and not from the bath before. Returning her hand in front of her face she saw nothing but red followed by a blurry vision and an inability to concentrate on her target. Still, with him being the only one in this room, she had to try and focus. “Home? I don’t have a home,” she hissed. 

“Expulso!” one swift motion in front of her was enough to let her ebony wand produce a blue glow, though as it reached Walden it abruptly turned into a golden hue, like a visible tether -- did they? “No, no -- you’re supposed to kill him.” but her wand refused to as it acknowledged Walden’s wand as a twin of them and, upon breaking the bond, Cassandra was flung through the window onto the grass. Not kill, only hurt -- how cruel. Her entire body tensed as she desperately tried to keep herself from gasping in pain. A few shards of glass stuck in her neck and shoulder, though it didn’t take long for her to try and keep moving. Simultaneously Cassandra turned around, now pointing her wand at the building, setting at least a few curtains on fire for a little bit of distraction. Now screaming she grabbed the first shards and yanked them out of her skin before healing the worst spots and trying to put as much meters between Walden and herself. “I will not come with you, do you hear me? I am not coming with you,” she repeated, though with less power behind her words as fear started to creep its way back into her mind and heart. I don’t want to die.