ii.

FULL NAME:   PINKSTONE  ,  carlotta  avery KNOWN SOBRIQUETS AND/OR PSEUDONYMS:   little  lottie,  in her school years and still used by some.   carla,  post graduation.   lotta. REGISTERED BLOOD STATUS:   HALFBLOOD. KNOWN LANGUAGES:   ENGLISH  ,  welsh ,  french ,  gaelic ,  latin . BIRTHPLACE:   CARDIFF  ,  wales .

FAMILY:   PINKSTONE  ,  clifford.     PINKSTONE  neé  clarke  ,  evangeline.    MARITAL STATUS:  unmarried    SPOUSE, IF APPLICABLE:  —    OFFSPRING, IF APPLICABLE: —

ORIENTATION:   pansexual. DATE OF BIRTH & AGE:   april 1st, 1922   & 28    WESTERN ZODIAC:  aries.   leaders of the pack, first in line to get things going. whether or not everything gets done is another question altogether, for an Aries prefers to initiate rather than to complete. the leadership displayed by aries is most impressive, so don’t be surprised if they can rally the troops against seemingly insurmountable odds—they have that kind of personal magnetism. an aries sign won’t shy away from new ground, either. those born under this zodiac sign are often called the pioneers of the zodiac, and it’s their fearless trek into the unknown that often wins the day. aries is a bundle of energy and dynamism leading people along with its charm and charisma. the dawning of a new day—and all of its possibilities—is pure bliss to an aries.

PROFILE:

   EYE COLOR:  hazel .    HAIR COLOR:  chestnut brown .    BUILD & HEIGHT:   short in stature, not physically strong, but dexterous  —  5′3″ .          IDENTIFYING MARKS & SCARS:  the outsides of her wrists have a single dark scar from magicuffs that were pressed too tight into her skin; a scar on her right knee acquired from falling out of a tree during childhood. 

SCHOOLING:   HOGWARTS  ,  school of witchcraft & wizardry .          HOUSE, IF APPLICABLE:   HUFFLEPUFF.          N.E.W.T.S:   defense against the dark arts · o   ,   history of magic · o   ,   muggle studies · e  ,   study of ancient runes · e   ,   and   charms · o

OCCUPATION:   ACTIVIST.   previously liaison of muggle relations in the ministry of magic.  bankrolled by the old money of her mother’s family and the pity of both of her parents, carlotta is an activist in her own right. with no official group behind her, there is no one else for her to drag under when she inevitably pulls another stunt to land her in azkaban. her legacy would be sewn in the beginnings of connections between those with and those without magic, she would see the world begin to become a better place than she found it.

REGISTERED WAND:  alder wood, unicorn tail hair core, 10 ¾’’   —   carlotta was never considered to be a stubborn child, always kind and considerate of others. she tended to be soft spoken and shy. when the eleven year old child walked into ollivander’s, her fingers clutched in her mothers, she sought out her wand. by any typical standard, the wand chose the caster, but not this time. at least, that is what carlotta likes to believe. this wand served her well during her school years, becoming an extension of herself during her sixth and seventh years when learning non-verbal magic became her solitary goal. now, she keeps the wand as memorabilia, a reminder of where she’s been and where she wants to be.

AMORTENTIA:   amortentia smells of crackling fireplaces when cozied up with an old book, it smells of the moments she stands by the sea in cardiff with the mist spraying her face, and it smells of ink freshly written across a piece of parchment. 

BOGGART:   for a long time, her boggart didn’t have a true form, it would shift between people and things all with an underlying sense of dread. now, her boggart torments her in the form of bindy, disappointed and angry that she died for naught; that dread is amplified one thousand fold and she nearly drowns in it. 

PATRONUS:   non-corporeal,  though if caught at just the right moment,  looks to be a large red kite. it is a bird that is native to the cardiff, wales; a place that she’s spent most of her life when not in the wixen world. 

KNOWN AFFILIATIONS:   FORTESCUE  ,  florean .   SHAFIQ  ,  rowan .   &&      WEASLEY  ,  septimus . 

CURRENT MAILING ADDRESS: ◊ 613 ¯˘ greengrief court , second floor , third door on the left .

LAST SEEN LOCATION:   being released from AZKABAN and returned to the wixen world.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:  not applicable currently.

“ALEKSANDR  DMITRIYEVICH  TIKHOMIROV.”  then,  a  beat  later,  “sasha.”  he  accepts  carlotta’s  proffered  hand  and  uses  it  to  tug  her  forward,  the  momentum  just  enough  to  turn  the  supposed  handshake  into  a  small  twirl  that  allowed  his  free  hand  to  grab  that  heath  bar  he’d  been  coveting.   “it’s  very  nice  to  meet  you,  i  think.  would  it  be  very  terrible  if  i  asked  what  you’d  done  to  earn  that  visit  down  in  the  ministry’s  cell  holdings?”  sasha  released  her  hand  and  folded  his  arms  across  his  chest,  brow  raised  and  head  canted  in  the  direction  of  the  chocolate  that  she’d  grabbed.  “was  it  your  chocolate  preference?  choosing  wafer  over  toffee  IS  a  crime,  after  all.”

the full name left her blinking, trying to digest the name beneath the lilt of his accent. a heartbeat of her trying to force her tongue to properly follow his pronunciation of aleksandr when he offers her an out — sasha. she can manage that.   “ always a pleasu — oi! ”   the exclamation is out of her mouth as he tugs her forward, the momentum forcing her into a spin, shoes squeaking on the linoleum, and then she’s stopped on the opposite side of him. cheeks are flushed after the motion and she finds herself smiling back at him — oh, he’s dangerous.

there’s a mimic to her gaze, brow raised as he asks what exactly she’d done. it’s almost surprising that not everyone had heard the horrors that the infamous miss pinkstone had caused,   “ exposing magic to those without it, ”   she answers nonchalantly. it was not something she was ashamed of, there was very little she would change about that day.   “ waiting for sentencing. i’m sure you know how it is in the ministry. ”   the memories are solidifying, the auror in black coming to drop off his latest catch. at his mention of her preference, she tears the packaging open with a mischievous glint in her eye before breaking off a piece,   “ you can choose to have toffee in your teeth t’rest of the day, that’s your preference. ” 

кого: @wandlessfortune​ где: timestamp 008. MIRRORS когда: october the 24th, 1950, 11:31 hrs.

THE  TINKLING  BELL  signifying  that  the  door  had  been  opened  now  also  served  as  a  cue  for  every  figure  standing  within  a  six-meter  radius  to  stare  daggers  until  he  slammed  the  door  shut  behind  him.  sasha  grimaced,  leaning  back  just  enough  to  lift  up  his  boot  and  survey  the  state  of  his  sole,  which  was  smeared  with  no  small  amount  of  a  ghostly,  slimy  substance.                                                   ECTOPLASM.                                    

                                                                                                 GROSS.   of  all  the  beings  he’d  encountered  in  his  line  of  work,  the  undead  were  far  beyond  his  least  favorite  to  contend  with.  admittedly,  most  of  his  distaste  stemmed  from  the  mess  that  inevitably  followed  a  neutralization.  sasha  grumbled  under  his  breath  as  he  scraped  his  boot  against  a  mat  near  the  door,  then  headed  further  into  the  grocery  store’s  maze  of  aisles.  it  wasn’t  long  before  he  found  what  he  was  looking  for    ––      the  candy  and  sweets  section    ––    but  the  semisweet  chocolate  he’d  hunted  down  was  obscured  from  his  view  by  a  brunette  who  looked  a  far  cry  close  to  giving  atlas  a  run  for  his  money.  was  she  single-handedly  supporting  the  wards  around  tesco’s?   sasha  blinked  and  stepped  closer,  fully  intending  on  simply  asking  her  to  take  a  step  to  the  left  so  that  he  could  grab  a  heath  bar,  until  something  about  her  face  tugged  at  his  memory.  he  lit  up,  a  smile  of  recognition  unfurling  across  his  features  “––it’s  you!  i  must  say,  this  is  a  much  better  look  for  you.”

we won’t say that carlotta pinkstone had seen better days because that gives the implication that this is the worst she’s ever looked which certainly wasn’t the case. she was standing in the middle of the candy aisle in a tesco with her brunette locks swept up into a haphazard bun, her wand plunged through it to keep it atop her head. it was practically useless for her magic anyhow, might as well give it a different purpose. hands on her hips as her eyes roam the shelves for what — she wasn’t sure. all she knew was that she needed sugar, was craving chocolate, and there were far too many options for her sluggish brain to keep up. 

the reason, apart from her outfit which was rather disheveled at this point, that she looked so exhausted was that she was currently sharing the wards around tesco with one other person. even two people on the job didn’t feel like enough to keep the people inside protected and so carlotta gave the effort almost everything. the sugar was to keep her going as much as it was to satiate her chocolate craving. she’s about to reach out for a kit-kat when a voice that is only vaguely familiar speaks, triggering a memory from days she liked to keep hidden. 

with hand halfway to the chocolate bar, she closes the distance to grab it before turning. her breath catches at the smile; merlin, she’d forgotten he was handsome. in return for his smile, she offers a smirk,   “ yes, keeping the monsters from coming in is much better than being thrown t’them is a much more in style look these days. ”   a beat of silence before her empty hand is offered to him,   “ i don’t think we got t’do this the first time; carlotta pinkstone. ”

  timestamp :   ——,  october 25th, 1950     location :    tesco’s,   public  &  unwarded tagging :      @wandlessfortune​

                it  had  been  a  day  since  things  had  changed,  and  they  were  still  waiting  from  word  for  the  ministry.  with  his  broom  back  at  his  apartment,  thaxter  had  decided  it  was  safer  to  simply  stay  put  until  the  situation  changed.  he’d  spent  the  night  in  the  tesco’s,  and  was  currently  situated  atop  one  of  the  shelving  units  closer  to   (  though  not  directly  next  to  )   the  entrance.  legs  crossed  under  him,  head  just  inches  from  the  ceiling,  wand  within  reach,  and  on  his  lap  a  pack  of  oreos  he  had  been  using  a  charm  to  increase  the  quantity  of  whenever  the  packet  dwindled.  it’s  in  this  position  that  he  notices  her,  and  he  isn’t  sure  if  she  had  arrived  recently  or  if  he  had  somehow  missed  her.   ‘   oh  m’  god,   ’   he  says  aloud,  mouth  falling  open  slightly.   carlotta  pinkstone  was  in  the  tesco  with  him.   he  realized  the  situation  beyond  that  was  somewhat  severe,  but  he  was  trying  not  to  focus  too  heavily  on  that  and  that  didn’t  change  how   cool   it  was  that  she  was  here.  frankly,  he  thought  she  was  a  badass.   ‘   pinkstone,  right  ?   what’re  you  doing  here  ?   ’

it seems only appropriate for carlotta pinkstone to be stuck in a tesco when the world was ending. a comforting piece of home rather that the stuffy, arrogance of the wixen world. if she’d had a choice, she preferred to be here amongst those with and without magic where she was not the strangest or the most dangerous, according to the ministry, being. it seemed a good enough balance. currently, she’s was on a self proclaimed guard detail though from the causal observer, it looks more like snack time. she’s sat on the customer service counter, legs crossed under her with a bag of granola  and an open box of plastic spoons at her side as well as a cup of yogurt in her hand. she was starving — she’d been trying and failing to keep overlapping protective wards up around the building — and had decided that this was currently a better use of her time. 

her eyes follow the sound of her surname, head tipping back to meet the gaze of ... oh, merlin, who was that again? big quidditch star, scandal recently just like the rest of the world it seemed ... thaxter wood, that was it! at his question though, she quirks an eyebrow and glances between him, the door, the shimmer of magic just beyond, and then back to him.   “ oh, just thought i’d pop by the shops; run a few errands before the end of the world, y’know? be prepared an’ all that. ”   she quips, scooping another spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. 

the best part of diagon alley was and always would be madam puddifoot’s. there were teas made of every herb that one could imagine and even the ones that seemed like a stretch. carlotta’s favorite was the small section, tucked far in the back and hardly touched, of muggle teas. black tea was a particular favorite of hers, if only for the nostalgia the flavor brought forth. add milk and sugar, it was heaven. she’s in the middle of ordering a tea when she sees a semi familiar head of raven locks.    “ rowan, ”   she pipes over the general din of the busy shop, needling her way through.    “ aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? ”

carlotta hadn’t been to the ministry since she was being taken away in magicuffs. she’s not really sure what brings her here today. since she’d come back to london, there was this ever present hollow feeling in her chest. the young witch hadn’t much time to mourn her cousin before she was whisked off to her punishment. as though losing a family member wasn’t punishment enough. she stands in front of the building, burning bright even if her disposition doesn’t show it. the movement of a figure climbing the stairs to the building catches her eye, the shade of hair the woman has. carlotta knows her or, at the very least, recognizes her.    “   ms. hyslop.   ”   the name leaving her mouth is neither excited nor displeased, rather neutral actually. helena had undone the chaos that she and bindy had created, but the obliviator had also taken away the memories of those without magic who had shone no fear in the face of something different.