β§Ό Β alycia debnam carey, cis female, she / her Β / Β vices - mothica + darling, you are a bird. your eyes narrow in confusion - what does that mean ? what KIND of bird? / maybe you are a mockingbird. all they do is sing, never mind if the song is not one of their own. you are so good at what you do. you ADAPT, you transfix, you do what you know how to do and you do it with grace. you dedicate yourself to this notion, time and time again for the sake of your life. REMEMBER, IT IS A SIN TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. / you know, a raven is a songbird too, though they are not met with the same tenderness. you havenβt been shown that either, have you? many consider their presence an omen - a sign from death itself, decorated in dark feathers. among the most intelligent of all, but one would never know it. theyβll never be able to escape their namesake. CRUEL BIRDS, RAVENS, BUT WISE. CREATURES SHOULD BE LOVED FOR THEIR WISDOM IF THEY CANNOT BE LOVED FOR THEIR KINDNESS. / could you be a phoenix ? beautiful just as much as they are powerful and often found alone - their story is so similar to yours. they are born from ruin, you were born INTO it. they are able to be reborn from it, but what about you? it all has to be for something - you were not dealt such troublesome cards over and over again for nothing. IN ORDER TO RISE FROM ITS OWN ASHES, A PHOENIX MUST BURN.  ⧽ Β ββ Β hey, isnβt that MIKAELA KARKAROFF? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the THIRTY-TWOΒ year old half blood WITCH is a RAVENCLAW alumnus who has gone on to be anΒ INTERIOR DESIGNER. iβve heard they can be quite ADAPTABLE & CHARMING, but i donβt knowβ¦ they came off very RETICENT & CALCULATING in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isnβt it? Β [ Β lex, 25, est, she / her ]
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an abbreviated intro ! i have a fuller one that i will post when im not feeling <3 so insecure about my writing <3
a twin, mikaela was born shortly after nikolai to anton karkaroff. she has no memory of their mother - she left not long after their coming into the world. her childhood was not filled with warmth ( which is what she wanted more than anything ) ; she and her brother were passed along from nanny to nanny, no friendships that ever quite stuck.Β but it WAS filled with privilege. a roof over her head, food to eat, the knowledge that there was very little that money couldnβt buy - including the assumption that she was a PURE BLOOD witch when she was not.
at hogwarts, nikolai was sorted into slytherin and she was sorted into ravenclaw. it raised eyebrows, but made sense. despite all of their similarities, they were also both WILDLY different. the warmth she sought after in childhood she did not quite find here either - her surname preceded her, and was written off by many before she could make any sort of impression of her own. kaela was in her mid teens when she started to struggle with her mental health ( that feeling of loneliness never escaped her ), and her coping mechanism was drinking, and itβs a vice she hasnβt overcome since.Β
her professors always regarded her as a bright and TALENTED witch, but lacked the ambition she needed to reach her real potential. she was also regarded as reckless, though she was more mild compared to her brother, but a handful nonetheless. just as much as she was talented, she was also troubled.Β
kaela has a very strained relationship ( if one can even call it that ) with her father. from a young age she resented him for the way he wasnβt THERE in the way that she desperately wanted. there was never any real improvement, and despite the negative feelings she had towards himΒ and all he aspired to BE, she sort of thrust herself into pureblood society after graduating hogwarts.Β
itβs LIKELY she tapped into karkaroff money before she made it on her ownΒ as an interior designer - only serving those that could really afford it, and lives quite comfortably at this point.Β
she did not participate or even take a side during the second wizarding war. mikaela sat pretty, as she often did, and let the events play out. that luxury was not as readily available when the whispers of bellatrixβs return made it to her. this time around, she joined the death eaters - not because she SHARES their ideals, but because of a twisted loyalty to her family. it didnβt quite matter, she could play the part despite her differences.Β
nikolai is, as cliche as it is, her reason for being. there is no one else that can relate to her like he can - theyβre both cut from the same cloth, after all. for a bulk of their lives, they really only HAD each other. at the end of the day he is likely the only person sheβd willingly take a bullet for.Β
wanted connections !Β
clients - this one is obvious ! people whom she has previously worked for ! anyone who has money !
ex-flings - ya girl loves to do the do ! sheβs bi, this could apply to anyone ! give me awkwardness ! give me a messy falling out ! give me one night stands and things that never amounted to more !Β the world is our oyster !
friends with benefits - you know how it is. this doesnβt need explaining. no feelings just h*rny vibes.
enemies - maybe they just never vibed together ! maybe your character fights for the *good* and thinks her family is f*ckin sus - they ARE ! kaela is a bitch and i love her so much give her someone who could rival that <3Β
drinking buddies - this is so self explanatory as well ! regulars at the bar she frequents. people she invites over to get wine drunk on her couch. at the core theyβre just surface level friends, butΒ βfriendsβ nonetheless !
surface-level friendsΒ - speaking of which, people sheβs only really friendly with ( and when i say friendly i donβt mean. . . overwhelmingly so ) because theyβre family friends or ran in the same circles socially, whether that just be in the *wizarding world* or even just like. hogwarts houses.Β
an enabler/crutch - i think the idea of someone who saw perhaps some resistance from kaela when she first aligned herself with the death eaters and sort of. . . took her under her wing ( or tried to ! ) could be an interesting thing to play out. someone that in some way makes her. . . more comfortable ( though not overly so ) choosing the side that she did. alternatively, maybe someone sub-par that she fell into being friends with at some point that really does *no favors* in regards to just. . . improving her overall being !
a this is my baby and ainβt nobody is gonna touch them - this is so cliche and mikaela has not a single maternal bone in her body but she maybe has one in her big toe when it comes to this one person. maybe its a baby death eater she looks after. maybe itβs just !!! a regular anyone !! it could truly be anyone !! by no means is she nice but will hex someone for them <3
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"shut the fuck up," kaela retorts ( in the way that only two women who have been friends for decades can get away with ). nail taps against her screen, scrolling through all the photos that didn't make it to the instagram grid, before getting to the screenshots in question. "i want to go here. this summer. do you think you can get off of work?"
"i can't say i haven't thought about it. there was definitely a time where the answer would have been a firm 'no'. i have enough people to worry about without a child being in the mix." kaela's lips press together in contemplation. "but there's also no trial run for being a parent and that scares me. i had these moments. . . sometimes, with theseus, which. . . obviously i'm not any kind of a mother - but where i thought i could maybe figure it out. where i did the right thing. but then there were others where i wasn't sure where to even begin. i think in another world in a different set of circumstances, i could want it, but i don't know if i would be any good at it."
what of the 'typical' growing up experience do you wish you had been given the most?
there's a sort of absent look in kaela's expression that's most noteable when she's asked about her upbringing. like she's trying to recollect something that never really existed. she tries find something tangible to hold onto but truthfully there's not a lot that she can grasp. she can't remember moments like when she was happiest attached to anton's hip because the memory of it is gone. she doesn't know a father that isn't like who she knows today. no memory or knowledge of a mother. not a lot cements prior to her years at hogwarts, just her time with niko, but she doesn't recognize that experience as atypical. in her adulthood she has only begun to recognize that maybe there were things missing. "i don't know."
if being happy with arturo meant denouncing your entire family for good, would you do it?
"that isn't fair." gaze falls as her lips twitch downwards - this isn't the first time she's pondered this question. would you give up everything you've known ( everything you've had ) for everything you want? "i reckon i would be better for it." she's doing her best to be evasive, but, alas, that's not the name of the game. "i don't think i could ever do that to my brother."
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if you had to pick one, who's your favourite weasley? (other than ned for being hot)
"you said it. it's ned - perfectly hot and sad. doesn't say much. owns a bar." and the only one not on her dart board. "though if i had to pick another, i guess it would be rumpert. that's his name, right?
πΏππΎπΌπΏπ Β : Β you don't even know what to say, do you ?
ππ΄πππ΄πππ΄π³ π±π Β : Β @taciiturns Β !
π»πΎπ²π°ππΈπΎπ½ Β : Β ministry of magic !
to be fair, everyone suffers in some way, shape, or form when the ministers daughter chooses to haunt the ministry offices. fleur is no different, though kaela did have to take a beat ( or two ) before materializing beside her and subjecting her to pointed commentary. time does not heal all wounds, nor is she the forgive and forget type. kaela tends to her grudges like a garden, keeping them as prickly as roses. though this one is an easy one for her to maintain - she remembers the sting of rejection all too well. "do i seem like the communal coffee type?" she maintains her cold indifference - from level tone to expressionless features as she glances, only to reach over fleur for one of the wrapped protein bars in the communal dish of snacks. "i'll let you enjoy yours, though. wouldn't want to be a bother."
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ππππππππ: level eight, the atrium.
ππππππ: closed to mikaela karkaroff ( @taciiturns )
a small flute of champagne is dwarfed by pax's hand as he observes the minister from the drinks table, a look of smugness almost forcefully placed upon his features as he watches the older karkaroff schmooze and act the minister the wixen world waited for. he'd laugh if he weren't surrounded by those blinded by his act. "i'll bet you 5 galleons he boasts about you during his speech, kaela," playfully elbowing the younger karkaroff, pax smirks.
"i don't know that you should waste your galleons like that. it's fiscally irresponsible." it might sound like hubris to a nearby ear, but it is anything but that. she just knows her father and how his mind works. i'm thankful to my family, she thinks. my daughter kaela, who if things went differently a few short months ago, wouldn't be here. it would tear at the heart strings, despite how curated his story is. "me, personally?" her voice drops to hushed tone, "would be more interested in betting on how long into his speech he makes a promise of things being under control."
maybe it was chance that theseus was staying with her dad, tonight, and he had tomorrow off. maybe he'd just decided on a whim to get his place in order, a swish of a hand here & a bit of elbow grease, there, all to be able to say that for the first time in a while, his house was in an acceptable condition for guests to visit. he'd bought a bag of ice for the freezer / lit one of those ridiculously named yankee candles, in the living room / changed his bed, for good measure. maybe he'd been expecting it, all along. arturo can't quite bring himself to admit it, not even to himself, but maybe he'd been hoping. maybe that was the point. there was 'being nice' and 'being romantic', and the difference lay in that grey area between whether he was being a good friend because they were amicable exes or whether he was being a good friend because they were amicable exes. he wasn't fully sure which it was, but when the moment comes to answer the door, he isn't slow to do it because he's busy elsewhere - it's cause he got stuck at the mirror in the hallway, making sure he looked put together. "some guy, huh ?" bemused and playing it cool, the fact that he pushes himself close to the wall and opens the door that much wider for her to pass says it all, "do you think he had that in mind ?"
she's not the hopeful type, but for the few moments of waiting she certainly comes close. gray hues study his features and for once in a long while there isn't concern etched into them. a win. she'd gotten so few of them lately. "you tell me," she quips, passing through the now wide open space in front of her. "if i recall right . . . you're wearing the cologne i got you . . . two christmases ago?" one of the handful she'd forced upon him during all of their years of familiarity. she moves through the entry hallway with an ease and confidence that one might never see from her in the house that bares her surname. after all, there was a time where this was destined to be their home. she knew where the glasses were, already, for the champagne they were due to consume. where arturo's keys always ended up if he didn't toss them onto the dish that lives on the center island. which corner of the couch was theseus' favorite to curl up in. she gives pause before pressing further - "that being said, i hope so."
when: june 1st, approx. 11:00pm
where: arturo's home !
who: @iustitiias
cautionary tale: you can light the match and throw it at something you love, convince yourself it is for everyone's own good, but what do you do when that fire is done burning and nothing has turned to ash? you end up on their doorstep, apparently. perhaps knowing better, but ignoring that thought all together. lit only by the porch light stands kaela - in her arms is the gift bag received earlier that day. when the front door finally breaks open, she smiles ( a far cry from how she was the last time she found herself in this same spot ), reaching for the bottle within her bag. "some guy bought me some birthday gifts and i'm in the spirit of sharing, if you'll have me."
HER HUSBAND IS DEAD. when narcissa gives herself those few & far between moments to try and digest this unacceptable truth, the fathomless chasm that threatens to swallow her whole is so uniquely terrifying that she immediately steers herself towards something she can control. kingsley tells her, 'he didn't suffer,' his voice wavering on the lie, and she clicks her fingers for an elf. lucius is gone, but that's no reason for bad manners ; he should have a glass from that expensive bottle in the study, he looks as if he needs it. a mediwix informs her, 'we can have him transferred by saturday,' her eyes trained upon the sickly tile, and she pulls out her cheque book. what's left of him lies in the depths of st mungo's, and she won't stand for it ; they'll have him moved to their home by sundown, or she'll pull their very generous funding. draco remarks dryly, 'it's not as if it's wrong', the prophet lying between them at the dining room table, and the force with which she hits the surface sends her glass flying. he watched it happen, she knows, and grief makes monsters of them all, but that's no excuse to speak ill ; she'll send an owl, she'll send a thousand, they'll pull the rest of the issues from newspaper stands today or she'll give them hell to pay.
HER HUSBAND IS DEAD. when narcissa gives herself those few & far between moments to try and digest this unacceptable truth, she's startled at how little she really feels. it's meant to hurt. she figured it would, but then, she also hadn't - even when they were farthest apart, she doesn't think she'd ever imagined a reality in which they were actually separated by a lungful of breath & a steadily beating heart. she isn't even remotely prepared to confront it, now, so it's little wonder that she keeps herself so caught up in these meaningless moments, so as to avoid slowing down. she is, as ever, a perfect host. moving through the crowded room of faceless wix, she's unforgiving when she spots even the most miniscule of issues. "if you're going to set your glass down on my antique mahoghany, i'd appreciate it if you'd use a coaster," she tells them through a venemous sort of smile, not waiting for them to respond before she has already given her wand a wave and conjured one, "i expect better of guests in my home. i'm sure you understand."
if life is a spectrum of emotions, kaela is not sure she's ever felt grief. maybe for an old version of herself, or for an unfortunate circumstance, but never prompted by another. kaela didn't know lucius well - didn't care to. there were enough men with big personalities and questionable morals that she never bothered to welcome another. . . but the same could not be said about his wife. there's a certain fondness kaela holds for narcissa that she can't quite explain and a twisting feeling in her chest as she watches her float through a home that surely feels emptier, now, to her than it did a few days ago. even despite all of the mourners.
kaela mentally kicks herself for not catching the glass of one of the visitors earlier. she fails to intervene before words are exchanged - hand lightly landing on the backside of the culprit. narcissa's smile coupled with her own cautionary glance to go literally anywhere else, coaster in tow, was luckily sign enough to remove themselves from the situation. "i can find a replacement side table for you if the damage is done. just say the word." lips press together to offer the closest thing to a sympathic smile that one kaela karkaroff is capable of mustering up. "anton. . ." it was her idea, but she'll give him the credit. "anton is having someone drop by with some meals from my favorite restaurant. hopefully we share more than just similar taste in furniture."
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" i think you know exactly what iβve been up to, kaela. " said ezekiel ! @hoggleswart
if looks could kill zeke would likely be a dead man ( and she is sure he'd probably have been dead long before she even came along ). gray hues turn to daggers at his response to her pushing a question. "that's probably true," she agrees. here's the thing with zeke - if not for. . . well, the everything of it all, she probably wouldn't have such strong feelings about his existence. but alas, the two are sums of their situations. "between licking my fathers boots and canoodling with my best friend. . . i'm not sure how you'd have time for much else."
