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Hair is dripping, hiding that I'm terrified But this is summer, playing dumber than in fall Everything I say falls right back into everything I'm not in the swing of things

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@fracturcs !Ā
date: may 5th 1979 location: ministry galaĀ
Ā Ā Ā wrapped in glittering dress and nursing a spirited drink, she is something of a force; andromeda spends her time chatting, listening, dancing the night away, having arrived as an extension to her parentsā guaranteed appearance. the blacks wasted no opportunity to show their support to yaxleyās party, but andromeda herself weaves between supporters of both sides, choosing mostly to flutter about bagnoldās people if only to turn heads and charge whispers. the buzz that galas provided were next to none -- she had grown accustomed to a life spent rubbing shoulders with the opulent and powerful,Ā and even more so with the atmosphere so politically charged.Ā
Ā Ā Ā dromeda almost finds her way to another pocket of what seems to be very interesting conversation when a ghost of the past enters her peripheral -- it takes her a moment and a string of skipped heartbeats to recognizeĀ thabit colton, whom she had tried ( and failed ) to erase from her memories for almost a decade. there is a wall of repressedĀ history and regret that should prevent her from seeking him out, but she does just that, crossing the sea of guests to make her way to him. thereās a stride in her step (Ā fuelled by the liquid courage ),Ā ignoring the racing heart in her chest as she draws in close.Ā
Ā Ā Ā ā word around tells me that you arenāt one to leave your office often, ā dromeda swirls the contents of her glass nonchalantly, voice smooth and poised as though they were simply perfect strangers, ā should i consider myself lucky to have stumbled upon you tonight ? ā
RABASTAN !Ā
Ā Ā theĀ hitĀ wizardĀ isĀ abstracted;Ā cerebralĀ intuitionĀ targetingĀ theĀ priorĀ eveningĀ ofĀ anthraciteĀ linens.Ā theĀ raven-tressedĀ witchāsĀ mouthĀ parts,Ā inquisitiveĀ syllablesĀ tumbleĀ fromĀ herĀ tongue,Ā andĀ heĀ failsĀ toĀ discernĀ them.Ā enchantedĀ teaspoonĀ twistsĀ aĀ minusculeĀ whirlpoolĀ inĀ blackĀ tea,Ā drownsĀ aĀ cubeĀ ofĀ sugarĀ withinĀ itsĀ tartĀ vortex.Ā theĀ silverĀ utensilĀ sustainsĀ itsĀ sphericalĀ evolution,Ā saccharineĀ particlesĀ disintegrating,Ā spellĀ driftingĀ needlesslyĀ onward.Ā sheetsĀ warpĀ intoĀ roughlyĀ lainĀ kisses,Ā intoĀ proclamationsĀ thatĀ lingerĀ throughoutĀ Ā obsidianĀ hours.Ā theĀ elegantĀ visionĀ acrossĀ fromĀ himĀ capsizesĀ aĀ pageĀ āĀ peripheralĀ glimpsesĀ anĀ embossedĀ headlineĀ declaringĀ MURDER,Ā sprightlyĀ debrisĀ envelopsĀ MISSINGĀ witch.Ā elladoraāsĀ misplacedĀ silhouette,Ā heĀ affirms,Ā lacksĀ Ā deathĀ eaterĀ affiliation.
andromedaĀ blackĀ priesĀ mericĀ mulciberĀ fromĀ sinfulĀ encephalon.Ā herĀ laugh,Ā deceivinglyĀ honeyed,Ā startlesĀ hisĀ internalĀ confessional.Ā ā Ā ā Ā what ? Ā āĀ Ā hazelĀ irisesĀ focalize,Ā newfoundĀ awarenessĀ accompaniesĀ theĀ columnĀ ofĀ currentĀ perusal.Ā theĀ possessedĀ teaspoonĀ ceasesĀ itsĀ dizzyingĀ motion.Ā Ā āĀ Ā shameĀ ifĀ sheĀ wereĀ toĀ goĀ missing.Ā Ā āĀ heĀ proffersĀ further,Ā Ā āĀ ifĀ iĀ knewĀ sheĀ wouldnātĀ beĀ soĀ bloodyĀ thrilledĀ toĀ makeĀ theĀ frontĀ page,Ā iādĀ seeĀ itĀ happen.Ā Ā ā
Ā Ā Ā she wonders if life has always been this blissfully complicated -- she, andromeda, halfway PARIAHĀ of the sisters black, sitting across the younger of the lestranges at an upscale tea shop on a sunday afternoon, seated in the more lavish section among others of societal elite. clasped between her fingers is a newspaper brandishing yet another darkness come upon their world -- missing, murdered, general upheaval and unrest. yet she sits comfortably, legs crossed and a laugh trailing on her lips over the rumour mill and pettyĀ gossip, as though the world wasnāt falling to ruin for other witches and wizards -- those unlike her, unlike them, without the luxury of spending galleons on and precious timeĀ in a private seating space in an ornate tea shop. andromeda thinks ( knows ) she shouldnāt be so comfortable, so relaxedĀ with a man that stood for everything she wants to get away from ( first the arranged marriage, then outright involvement with the deatheaters ) -- and she doesnāt know whether or not sheās disappointed by the lack of a sinking feeling or moral pull.
Ā Ā Ā IT CANāT BE HELPED, is what she tells herself ( is it such a crime ? ) -- itās the weak way around, a temporary conclusion rooted in unwillingness to give up yet another piece of her life, herself in a way.Ā ā i want to tell you that itās incrediblyĀ rude to wish going missing onto someone --Ā ā and she should, but dromeda elects instead to roll her eyes and neglect the part where rabastan suggests to take it upon himself,Ā āĀ -- but itās skeeter, andĀ iām positive that thereās an entire litany of people waiting to give her a piece of their mind. shame that my exposĆ© is the dullest of them all.Ā ā
it's a good thing you never feared flames because suddenly you're burning alive
@fracturcsĀ
Adelaide Kane photographed by Jordan Harvey (2018)

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@rosetamed !Ā
date: spring 1979 location: the rosier household
Ā Ā Ā andromeda appears at the grounds with a muted pop, hailing her arrival via apparition -- the first things her eyes land on are the flowers, beautiful and well-tended to as she last remembers them to be. she resigns herself to basking in their loveliness later; for now, she crosses the grounds in half-hurried strides towards the front door. the bag slung in the crook of her arm houses gifts for the children and the whole family ( her family, too -- but this one in particular is too good, too pure for her that andromeda almost feels like she is trespassing each time she is with them, but also finds herself unable to resist the want to be and spend time with some of the only completely happy parts of family she has ), hoping that if there was a celebration or birthday of sorts sheād be prepared, and if there was no festivity, sheād have a reason to visit.Ā
Ā Ā Ā blood traitor, this cousin of hers, the patriarch of this household, had been named -- curious it was that his erasure from the maternal side of her family only brought her closer to him. domitius had been brave in the ways andromeda could only wish she could be. in a way, by being around him, she envisions and vicariously lives a life ( so intricately idealized ) that she could have been immersed in had she just been able to break free.Ā
Ā Ā Ā she is swept out of her thoughts when the door swings open, smile instantly lighting up her features.Ā ā i come bearing gifts ! ā itās the most jubilant her voice has been in weeks, the closest incident itās chimed this sweetly was in passing conversation with cissa.Ā āĀ and i know itās early, but i wanted to slip away as soon as i could -- i do hope iām not intruding. ā
Where is the real you? All of you? Too much here. Too much there.
Marina Tsvetaeva, Bride Of Ice: New Selected Poems
Read more at wordsnquotes
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@mericmulciber !
date: early spring of 1979 location: the black family manorĀ
Ā Ā Ā itās an art form, the way andromeda flits and flutters about with well-mannered grace in a room filled to the brim with the very same people she would rather not associate with. appearances are everything, however -- this was a lesson ingrained in her from a young age, taught to perfect a fake smile and present herself with polite decorum regardless of the thoughts and feelings brewing beneath the surface. so she does just that, making rounds through the guests ( criminals, miscreants, deatheaters -- the kind of company her family hailed as honourable and respectable, the kind of company that made disgust sink her stomach and held her down like a ball and chainĀ ) when she would much rather be anywhere else but in the thick of the party.Ā
Ā Ā Ā a glass of champagne is held between deft fingers as she takes carefully placed steps through the ballroom, sipping every so often in a vague attempt to mellow her spirit and to keep her skin from crawling even more than it already did.Ā Ā
Ā Ā Ā figure approaches in time for her to halfway drain her glass, a brow raised upon recognition of who it is -- mulciber, whom she knows only by extension of dearest bella. ā i do believe youāve come upon the wrong sister, ā soft chuckle tumbles from equally soft lips, contrast to the tongue-in-cheek comments to bracket it, ā and in any event you might ask, no, i am not aware of bellaās whereabouts. ā
@jamcsi !Ā
date: april 29, 1979 location: the leaky cauldron
Ā Ā Ā andromeda finds herself ducking into the pub needing to breathe -- the manor has proven itself far tooĀ suffocating for what seems like the hundredth time this week, the catalyst having been a row at the dinner table. itās almost laughable how at twenty-six bloody years old, her mother can still make her feel so small and broken, and that the household feels more like a dungeon than a home -- so she removes herself from it all, if only for the rest of the evening, and resigns herself to a goal of chasing away the anger with a string of strong drinks.Ā
Ā Ā Ā she had originally planned the night to be spent alone -- after all, dromeda abhorred the idea of anyone seeing her shit-faced and emotional to boot -- but she finds herself looking for a familiar face, hoping to satisfy a craving for company while still sober and coherent. dark eyes scan the bustling pub floor and land on a certain james potter. andromeda had lapsed him all of six years in school and much relies on siriusā take of the boy, so there are a few holes in the image and perception of him in her mind -- but what she does know is that he has become siriusā refuge, having given him the love and family her own had failed to provide him with. for that, she is grateful.Ā
Ā Ā Ā ā -- and here i thought iād find sirius here with you. i was always under the impression that the two of you were conjoined at the hip.Ā āĀ the greeting is halfway between serious ( ha ha ) and a joke. andromeda nods toward the bar stool next to him.Ā ā is this seat taken ? ā
helloooo my loves ! i know finals are kicking our collective asses, but if anyone is interested in a STARTER from dromeda, then feel free toĀ likeĀ this post ! iāll be assuming connections for the most part but if you have something specific in mind, IM me!!Ā

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Adelaide Kane photographed by Luc Coiffait (2017)
TASK 001 : ASSOCIATIONS !
ROUGH: touch HIDE: away FOOLISH: self SAD: repress HATE: angerĀ LIGHT: chandelier DARK: world MOTHER: strictĀ FATHER: iron CHILD: protectĀ MARRIAGE: commitment LOVE: want SOFT: music PET: cat DREAM: safety DIVORCE: necessaryĀ WATER: drown LOUD: scream ANNOUNCEMENT: bethrothed POWER: imbalance FIGHT: quietly SMACK: punishment WHITE: purity SICK: ideology KISS: stolen HUB: meetingĀ HURT: feelingĀ HAPPY: freedom
Home doesnāt exist for girls like me.
Fox Brown, from āIĀ Am Asked to Surrender My Things,ā published in Winter Tangerine (via lifeinpoetry)
date: april 25th 1979Ā
location: ???
slender fingers peruse through the prophet held in her hands but truly only one section catches her eye -- amidst the reports of terror and upheaval in recent events, the gossip column finds itself a frequent visitor in andromeda black. she spots names that intrigue her, ādetailsā on family and acquaintances alike, bits of so-called information filed away in her mind for later investigation. dark eyes scan the list up and down, expression somewhere between perplexed and strangely amused.Ā ā can you imagine making a living out of gossip, prying into peopleās lives ? ā the query is posed with a slightly daring lilt, as though an invitation for whoever to jump in and defend or refute the apparent sightings.Ā
andromeda flips the page if only to appear interested in the other contents -- quidditch statistics ( sheād only ever been halfway interested while in school, if only to bat eyes at players ! ), a report pertaining to her line of work that she decides to dwell on later; it is an issue for working andromeda. for now, she is settled in her social skin and abuzz with petty interest. unsurprisingly, she eventually flips back to the page entitled sightings by skeeter.Ā andromeda knows itās all stretched truths and embellishment ( for the most part ), meant to stir the pot and create friction drawn away from the war, entertainment for people who have nothing better to do than live vicariously through the scandalous lives of others.Ā
ā i might have to start looking over my shoulder more often. perhaps i may even need to double check the loo, the trash bin --Ā ā out comes a laugh that is as sweet as it is biting, and a shake of the head,Ā ā -- skeeter isĀ everywhere. ā
( damn reyna, back at it again with another disaster daughter ) -- but HELLO itās me again, this time with andy black herself. donāt be fooled by that sweet face, thereās a storm brewing beneath her skin!! andromeda as a character is very close to my heart ( she was one of the first muses i ever wrote for ! ) and iām very excited to pick her up & put my own spin to her this time around. i welcome all the plots, come love us !!
* ā³ ā the dark lord has targeted [ ANDROMEDA BLACK ] ! Ā the muggles say Ā she holds resemblance to [ ADELAIDE KANE ]. the [ 26 ] year old [ CIS FEMALE ] was [ WARM & FAMILIAL ] before the war, but have now become [ SECRETIVE & DETACHED ]. though they were once a part of [ SLYTHERIN ], they have now taken up the position of an [ APOTHECARY POTIONEER ]. whispers throughout the ministry claim that the [ PUREBLOOD ] is actually a [ NEUTRAL ], but i wouldnāt report that to the daily prophet.Ā

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QUESTION: why do we mortals love icarus so? Ā ANSWER: because he flew, darling. he fell, yes, but first he dared to soar. we are all trying to learn from him.
sunlight & other impossible things | myths reimagined #6 | inkmagician (via inkmagician)