pluto’s comments. first time posting sirius and zanka content! i love them sm i’m gonna explode! im gonna write for them some more soon enough. also excuse any errors pls.

Canis Major, Cão Maior

Nomes que lhes deste são só isso, nomes que lhes deste. Cão Maior gosta da grandiosidade, se lhe perguntarem dirá: é ela que me gosta. Ondas gigantes, grandes feitos, entradas triunfais. Seria mentira dizer que a população de Saint Abbon de Fleury rola os olhos para ele, porque a verdade é que é, sim, adorado. Os anos de ausência, quando deixou a ilha para se formar em biologia, fizeram aumentar esse amor, e não quero usar de injustiça e fazer parecer que ele não o merece. Cão Maior ama a ilha, as pessoas da ilha, cada centímetro de vida e cor e estranheza que só se conhece ali. Seu retorno o fez mais carinhoso ainda, mais presente, mais intenso, porém verdade seja dita: depois de tudo isso, corre para sua casa dentro da floresta de Point-ciel. Não possui vizinhos, só a companhia dos pássaros e o rio que passa no próprio quintal, o lugar perfeito para recarregar entre as histórias de selvas e zoológicos, de festas e fraternidades, e entre os turnos confusos de trabalho divididos entre perambular pela floresta e a sede de reabilitação de fauna da ilha.  

Meet HILDA “ELLIS” DAVIES They are ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY ONE years old and hail from SWANSEA, WALES. Ellis embodies the constellation, CANIS MAJOR and the moon, CALLISTO. They use she/her pronouns. Their faceclaim is EMMY RAVER-LAMPMAN.

Canis Major reminds me of training for a marathon, an extra lock on the door, late night studying, an emotionally closed door, a stray dog curled up by a dumpster in an alleyway, red lips pursed around a cigarette, a rarely used voice, a gentle touch, faint barking in the distance, a rare but melodic laugh, an impeccably decorated dorm, a strong signature perfume..

BIOGRAPHY

TW: abuse, assault, stalking.

Before him, Hilda’s life was wholly unremarkable. It’s hardly worth delving into, but the Reader’s Digest version is this: she grew up in a stable home with two non-magical parents, two siblings, and a dog, who was her best friend. She was born with an odd series of marks on her calf that she would later come to discover as being Canis Major, who did her an injustice by not being louder sooner. As it stood, Hilda had no idea that she was a witch until she was already trapped in a situation she couldn’t escape.

The thing is, at that time, there weren’t a lot of options in life for a young black woman in Wales, so she was sent to London for school and then to find work soon after she came of age. As was to be expected, marriage seemed like the next best step; she met a charming, semi-wealthy man, fell in love, and became a happy housewife–or, well, as happy as she could be, but at that time, again, that’s just what women did.

( TW ) In year two of her marriage, when she was freshly 23, the abuse began. It started off slight, at first, with Jeremy testing his boundaries and Hilda not standing her ground, but quickly escalated to a nightmare scenario. The abuse was verbal, psychological, physical, sexual, and went on for years. Hilda couldn’t leave. It was unheard of, in those times, and it wasn’t as though this kind of thing was uncommon, although not to the severity that she experienced. At any rate, he’d long since isolated her from anyone else in her life, and there was nowhere–no one–for her to turn to for help. She was stuck.

It was under this extreme duress that her magic became more prominent, though she had no idea what it was. She’d had incidents in the past, but ones she could chalk up to coincidence or a trick of mind, but as the nights got worse, these happenings became more volatile. Hilda felt different, too. Like there was something in her, stirring and itching to come out. And then, one day, she shifted.

To say that finding out you could shape shift into a dog was shocking is an understatement. Frankly, at first, Hilda was convinced she was losing her mind. But then it kept happening, at first uncontrollably, and then she finally got the hang of it–and this was it. Her ticket out. The how and the why weren’t as important as the escape, but years of mental manipulation had her afraid, even still, to ever go through with it.

Until, that was, she found out she was pregnant. That was the thing that finally cleared enough fog from Hilda’s brain, and she left him in the cover of night in dog-form. There was nowhere else for her to go aside from back home, so she made the journey on foot (it was easier, shape-shifted, to survive in this way) and returned back to her parents, where she gave birth to her kid and hid quietly away.

It was two years before he found her and their child, and this time, not even home was safe. Hiding proved to be difficult; he always seemed to find her (she later came to find that his own magical abilities aided in that), and being a single mother in those times was borderline impossible. Food was scarce, they were lucky if they didn’t have to sleep on the streets, and there was no safe support system anymore. Hilda knew she couldn’t provide a life for her kid, so when they were six, she dropped them off at a church and left–that was, as she knew deep down, her only viable option.

Hilda knew nothing else of her magic but she did know, at that point, how to shapeshift easily, and she lived the next sixty years in dog-form. Occasionally families would take her in, and she’d revel in that safety, then when it was pushing time where they would start to be suspicious of her lifespan, she’d leave. This was a cycle she’d perpetuate until she was taken in by a family of witches, who, upon sensing her magic, coaxed her out. Go to Polaris, they stressed. You’ll be safe at Polaris.

Eventually, she caved. Considering she didn’t know her ex was a wizard, at the time, her decision to go was contingent upon the idea that he was likely dead; and, if he wasn’t, being a witch meant she might be able to learn to fight back. If nothing else, it was an escape from the mental prison she was in–something to hope for and dream of. Polaris instantly made her feel safe, although it had been decades since she’d spent any amount of time in human form, and even longer since she’d been sure where her next meal would come from. It was a contentious transition; she hardly talked, didn’t want to look anyone in the eye, kept her head down and studied. She dropped the name “Hilda” in favor of her middle name, Ellis.

Years have passed and Polaris remains Ellis’ home. She’s slightly warmer, now, although trust doesn’t come easy and she doesn’t like speaking much, so she comes across stricter and more studious than she really is. With a discovered knack for transfiguration, Ellis applied to be a PA as soon as she was eligible to extend her stay at Polaris. Recently, too, she re-discovered her ex being alive–or, at least, an Instagram profile that looks remarkably similar, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t slowly preparing to kill him. And then there’s the matter of her kid; if she’s a witch, and if he was a wizard, then that might mean her kid is still alive after all these years. So, yeah. She’s got some goals. She’s doing alright these days.

INCLINATION

Canis Major, The Great Dog, is a kind of on the nose constellation in the sense that it sponsors those who are born with the ability to shapeshift into–you guessed it–a dog. Canis Major likes to choose a witch from birth and sponsor them for the majority of their life, making them a fiercely loyal constellation. The current Canis Major also has a knack for Transfiguration magic.

CONNECTIONS

Offspring: The product of an abusive marriage, this kid’s first six years were spent unstable and on the run before Ellis handed them off to a church, where they were far safer than they ever would’ve been had they stayed with her. They’re probably 110ish by now, and brand new to Polaris, and this is likely going to be extra and angsty! We love it.

Trusted Companion: Someone who’s been at Polaris (or near it) for years–could be still a student, a staff member, professor, townsperson, PA, whatevs. This was the first person who earned Ellis’ trust all those years ago, and they’ve been inseparable ever since. (Could be a best friend or a super slow burn love plot, tbh, whatever.)

Unsuspecting Dog Lover: Sometimes, Ellis feels safer in dog-form. A lot of people know she’s Canis Major and she has enough distinguishing marks that they know she’s not a stray. This person doesn’t, though, and likes to leave food out for that ~stray Polaris dog~ and, occasionally, play fetch. Ellis doesn’t care about fetch, but the situation’s kind of amusing, so she’s decided she can have a little fun–as a treat. She draws a line at being dragged to the vet, though, as this person’s apt to try to do.