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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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 Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2016 9:25 am
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Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2016 9:26 am
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2016 9:27 am
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Posted: Sat Dec 31, 2016 10:08 pm
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A mind as clear as a cloudless sky...
No room for rust, no room for settled dust.
A waning wild thrown to bygone days...
No room for rust, no room for settled dust.
I’m growing black mud up around my veins;
And I’m going backwards, shutting out the name.
D I A N T H A
S I Â N
W A R L O W
ravenclaw chaser │ sixth year prefect│ halfblood
Di had only been officially home for the summer holiday for a few days and she was already at her wit's end. Maybe it was just her getting older and wanting more and more privacy, as well as having less and less patience, or maybe it was just her younger siblings getting older and thus becoming more and more irritating. That wasn't quite fair, she amended slightly, since Lena was rather sweet, for a hyperactive six year old, and Steffan, being only two, really wasn't much of a pain at all. It was mostly Treva and Madoc. However, at the moment they were amusing themselves in the back, probably breaking a window or two in the garden shed, and Di was reading on the porch. She didn't have much time for casual reading during the school year, and her literature intake this past year had especially suffered, given her OWLs and all. She'd started Mrs. Dalloway on the train ride home, and was nearly finished already.
There was a slight crisp chill in the air, as it was late afternoon and the sun was no longer at its highest point, and Di shifted slightly in the porch swing, ignoring the creak of the wicker. Nearby bees returned to their nest in a corner of the porch, humming mildly, and there were distant shouts and screams and swears that were always the natural result of Treva and Madoc 'playing together', but she only looked up when she heard a familiar crack at the end of the winding dirt driveway. It was about time for Tad to be coming home, anyhow. She felt like she'd barely seen him at all, and she had so much to tell him. Her OWL scores would be in soon enough, and she was hoping- Di forgot what she was hoping, because it wasn't Tad but another man, starting down the driveway in a hurry, and she stood up, setting aside the faded paperback.
"Wnwcl Roddy!" she called, waving as she came down the porch steps- it was hard not to recognize her father's eldest brother, who was tall, thin, and vaguely resembled a scarecrow, albeit a sharply dressed one. She hadn't seen the man since Christmas, and last she'd heard he was in Syria, curse-breaking and tomb raiding. His face was very pale, even paler than usual, and something in her flared slightly in alarm.
"Diantha," he said formally, which wasn't a surprise, as her uncle was known for being rather formal, almost laughably so, but there was something about the look in his eyes- "Where's Isolde?"
"Inside," Di answered automatically. "Cooking- what is it?"
He brushed past her up the steps in one long stride, and she was on his heels like one of his hunting dogs. Rodric hesitated, then turned back to her. "Is everyone here? All your siblings?"
She swallowed hard. "Treva and Madoc are playing out back-,"
"Go get them."
"Is it Taid or Nan?" She knew it wasn't, she knew exactly what it was, but-
He shook his head. "Do as I say, Diantha. Go get them." His voice was cold but wavered slightly.
There were two more cracks at the end of the drive. Di turned, saw, and said, "Oh no, no, no no," in a very small, childish whimper of a voice.
"I have to tell your mother before they do," he muttered, almost to himself. "I'm his brother, it's my-,"
She was no longer listening. Di was sitting on the steps, her head in her hands, shaking. "No, it can't be, he's just- he's at St. Mungo's?" She did not look up.
"No, Dian- Di," Rodric said as gently as he could, stiff as the man was by nature. "No. He didn't- It was very quick."
He went into the house, the screen door swinging shut behind him. The two people in Ministry robes were still walking down the drive, and by the time they reached the porch, Di was gone.
But it’s spiraling, spiraling into something bigger-
Is there something bigger?
Wide awake, but I am sleeping...
No room for rust, no room for settled dust.
I’m lying naked, drunk and dreaming-
Would it all work at all?
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Sun Jan 01, 2017 8:55 am
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Welcome to my world; now you can stop believing-
All the lies you think are true, so cunning and deceiving...
A gift I've made for you, wrapped in love and misery!
My confessions far from used; I've only died sometime last century.
Demons walk the Earth, while angels stay in heaven...
Some might say it's worse; I don't care how you fooled ten million.
T R E V A
A N N E S T
W A R L O W
slytherin │ second year │ halfblood
Mad was furious with her for being gone all year, and the only way to appease the brewing monster inside her younger brother was to play by his rules. However, as per usual, Mad's rules were pissing her off. Treva dug her bare feet into the soft dirt, angled her body slightly, and nodded. The rotting crab apple whipped past her face and hit the back of the shed with a wet splat.
"Rhy araf," Madoc jeered, pushing his lank hair out of his freckled face. It was nearly past his shoulders, and soon enough Mam would force him down in a chair and chop it all off so that her eldest son looked slightly less androgynous, but for now Mad looked almost girlish, with his delicate features and thick dark hair.
The cover did not fit the book, as always. "Dyna oedd un drwg a ydych yn ei wybod," Treva hissed, adjusting her grip on the stolen cricket bat. "Again."
Another small, wrinkled apple flew her way. For his small frame Mad was wiry, with a mean throwing arm. This time, the bat connected, and with a satisfying smack the apple shot forward, hitting the younger boy directly in the stomach. With a muffled groan he doubled over while Treva cackled, throwing the bat down in celebration. Neither noticed Di coming around the side of the house as if in a daze.
When Madoc straightened up he bull-charged his older sister, head ramming into her stomach, and threw both of them to the ground with a shout. "Get off," Treva gasp-screeched, clawing at his exposed throat, and dodged the first punch but not the second, which caught her in the chin. She gagged slightly, locked both of her hands on her brother's skinny shoulders, and wrenched him up, while shouldering him in the chest. He fell half off her with a yelp, and Treva slapped him, hard, in the back of the head before scrambling to her feet, examining her sunglasses. "Rydych wedi cael nhw i gyd aneglur, nhin!"
He did not respond, because he was looking behind her, suddenly as silent as a monk.
Treva wheeled around and knew something was very, very wrong the moment she saw Di. Childishly, she clapped her hands over her ringing ears. Mad sat in the dirt, scuffing at with a worn down trainer. Di held out her arms as if to pull her sister into them, but did not. "Treva, he's-,"
Treva jerked away with a shriek that sounded more animal than human. "No, he's not, stop it, he's not, I know he's not, he's going to be alright-,"
On the ground Mad began to claw open a scab on his leg, watching the trickle of blood run down onto the earth.
OOC: "Too slow."
"That was a bad one and you know it."
"You smudged up my glasses, a**!"
This gift I've made to haunt, while searching for infinity;
Some might say I'm wrong; I say it's my own destiny.
Let's take a chance, let's take a chance-
Let's all take a chance on something strange!
Hate, this culture I don't see...
Hate, this culture I don't breathe in.
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Posted: Tue Jan 03, 2017 5:04 pm
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A mind as clear as a cloudless sky...
No room for rust, no room for settled dust.
A waning wild thrown to bygone days...
No room for rust, no room for settled dust.
I’m growing black mud up around my veins;
And I’m going backwards, shutting out the name.
D I A N T H A
S I Â N
W A R L O W
ravenclaw chaser │ sixth year prefect│ halfblood
When Di woke up, someone was crying. This wasn't very surprising, as someone was always crying now, and not just the littlest ones, but it was the sort of ongoing wail that gave the impression that this had been going on for quite some time. She rolled over, bracing her feet on the cool wall beside her bed, and forced herself to take several deep breaths. She was going to get through today. She was going to get through today. Then she sat up, glancing over at the bed across from her own, which was empty, the covers a disheveled mess on the ground. Treva was usually up at the crack of dawn and out of the house with Madoc until the sun started to sink down low in the sky. Di couldn't say she blamed them for wanting to not be home.
Lena was sleeping in Di's bed, still, as she had been for the past week since the news. She had horrible nightmares, and Di found it a bit disturbing that she now knew how to shake her younger sister awake with one hand while still half-asleep herself. At least she wasn't still wetting the bed, which she had done the first few nights, afraid to leave the room at night because Tad wasn't there to protect them. Rationally speaking, there was absolutely nothing to fear, but even Di could agreed that living in an old house in the middle of nowhere, and now missing a parent was probably a potent combination in the dark. She looked down at Ilene, wishing she had more mothering instincts, as she wasn't that good at any of this, and brushed the little girl's dark hair out of her face.
Steffan was howling from the boys' room. He might have been deaf, but that didn't mean he didn't cry, and at two, he was still in a crib that was supposed to convert into a toddler bed. The bars were up, of course, and Di reached in and picked him up. Steffan babbled something incomprehensible but all the same very upset, at her. She grabbed one of his flailing hands in an attempt to remind him to sign, but he swatted at her instead, so she sighed and instead signed Mam sleeping blearily. Steffan swatted at her again, and Di moved him onto her hip, angling him away from her face while he worked himself back up towards a screech.
The usual surge of I can't do this I don't know what I'm doing hit her like a small tidal wave, but Di forced it back. Like it or not, she was the oldest, and it was more trouble than it was worth to try to force Treva and Madoc to help her look after Lena and Steff. Isolde was barely eating- barely sleeping, from the circles under her eyes, and when she did come out of the master bedroom walked around as if in a daze. Di had no idea how to comfort the woman, whom her relationship had often been tenuous with to begin with, when she felt as if she'd been hit by a truck herself. Tad was dead. He was not coming home to make any of this better. He was not going to be there to see her graduate from Hogwarts, or even see Madoc off for his first year. He would never get to see his two youngest grow up, or grow old with his wife. This was it. She'd had sixteen years with him, and it felt like even less, given the fact that she'd been away at school for the last five or so years.
Di was not sure she believed in any higher power, much less the concept of heaven or hell, but she wanted to believe her father was at peace. It was better that he die doing what he loved, and to have died in an instant, before he likely even realized what had happened, then to succumb to some drawn out injury or illness. He likely hadn't been afraid. He hadn't been worried for them. That was better than some of the alternatives. That didn't mean it hurt any less. She was an orphan now. She'd lost one parent at six, the other a decade later. She still had a home and family, of course, and she wasn't a little girl anymore, but that didn't mean it didn't make her feel alone. Neither of her parents would be at say, her wedding. If she ever had children, they'd never know their grandparents. It was jarring, to realize that. She had her siblings, of course, but they still had their mother.
Not really at the moment, though, she reflected a bit bitterly, giving up and setting Steffan down. He'd calmed down to regular crying, and was playing with a stuffed cow. Di stepped out of the room and walked down the hall. It couldn't hurt to try to see if Isolde was feeling any better today- the idea of caring for her siblings like this, being the one to ensure everyone was clothed and bathed and fed and healthy- was terrifying her. It wasn't as if she had no idea how to care for children, but there was a difference between looking after her siblings and essentially being their parent. At the moment, she was the latter, and if Treva and Mad had little respect for parental figures in general, they had even less for her. She could not do this until September 1st. She'd lose her mind. And what happened when she and Treva went back to school? Madoc was entirely out of control, and if Isolde hadn't at least gotten a bit better by then, it'd be a disaster.
She knocked on the door quietly. "Can I come in?"
There was no response. Di waited a moment. Still none. The sudden, clawing fear that Isolde had done something to herself seized her, and she rattled the doorknob, before realizing it was unlocked and rushing into the room. Isolde was sitting on the edge of the bed, seemingly in no danger at all, although the look in her eyes was completely blank, and her hands were knotted into fists in her dressing robe. Her hair was a matted, tangled mess, and she looked younger than her thirty four years in the pale morning light, with no makeup on.
"Isolde?" Di approached warily, as one might a feral animal.
"Get out," the woman murmured, not even looking at her.
"Steffan's upset, and I don't know-,"
"Out, I need you out-,"
"He needs his mother," Di snapped. "He doesn't want me, he wants you."
"I can't," Isolde whispered. "Not right now. I can't-,"
"I'm grieving too," Di said in a forcibly calm tone. "It's not- I can't do this all by myself, I'll be back at school in September, you've got to try-,"
"I lost my husband!" The brunette suddenly shrieked. "My partner! You have no idea what it's like to have that ripped away from you!"
"He was my father. I only had him after my mum died and you know it." Di was so angry she could barely speak. How dare she. It was like Mum dying all over again. How dare she act like she ought to be suffering less-
"I took you in! It wasn't just him! He asked me first and I agreed because you were just a child."
"I'm still a child! I can't raise other children for you while you lock yourself in here to waste away! Do you think that's what he would want?!"
"I was his wife," Isolde was suddenly on her feet, moving faster than Di had seen her move in days.
Di happened to glance down, and suddenly saw what was in her hands. She blanched, and suddenly felt as though she might vomit. "Is that-,"
Isolde crumpled. "He didn't even know; I wasn't sure so I waited, I shouldn't have, I should have told him-,"
"Oh- Isolde-," Di gingerly took her by the shoulders; Isolde was a small woman, and at 5'6" Di had five inches on her, barefoot.
Her stepmother sank back down onto the bed. "I can't- how am I supposed to be happy, when he's-,"
Di swallowed. "You don't- you don't have to... to go through with it, if it's too much..." Isolde straightened and slapped her across the face. Di blinked as her eyes watered in pain for a moment, and it took everything in her not to respond in kind. The older woman began to sob, and Di walked out of the room, closing the door behind her, and sat down on the floor in the darkened hallway, listening to the dull chatter of the TV someone had left on downstairs, wishing she was anywhere else.
But it’s spiraling, spiraling into something bigger-
Is there something bigger?
Wide awake, but I am sleeping...
No room for rust, no room for settled dust.
I’m lying naked, drunk and dreaming-
Would it all work at all?
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Tue Oct 10, 2017 7:34 am
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I see what I wanna see
Misery looks good on me
I see what I wanna see
Oh sweet misery
Take what you want from me
T R E V A
A N N E S T
W A R L O W
slytherin │ fifth year │ halfblood
For once in her life, Treva didn't particularly want to be right. But she had to know either way, and morphing into her mother was so easy it was almost ridiculous. She already looked like Isolde to begin with; they had the same naturally dark hair and eyes, same skin tone; they were even similar in their petite build. It was just a matter of hairstyle and clothes. Besides, it wasn't as if she planned on pretending to be her mother for very long. Just long enough to trip her uncle up. With that in mind, she lingered in the garage/work room that had once been her father's, staring at the dusty tools, as she heard the tell-tale crack of Edric apparating down the driveway.
It didn't take very long. Her uncle looked enough like Tad that it was sometimes disturbing; he was Tad but leaner and slightly shorter, with dark hair instead of fair, and his eyes were green instead of blue. "Oeddech chi'n colli fi?" he greeted Trevolde, and she smiled blandly. He laughed with a somewhat rueful, charming grin. "Ailsa oedd cwyno eto; mae'r wraig yn hoffi na fyddech chi'n credu, Iz."
"Ydi hi'n gwybod?" If Trevolde sounded slightly odd to him, he didn't seem to react.
"Wrth gwrs ddim. Peidiwch â phoeni, rydyn ni'n ddiogel." He moved to embrace her, and Trevolde side-stepped his arms with a small frown.
"Edric, beth am y plant?"
"Ni fydd yr hyn nad ydynt yn ei wybod yn eu brifo," he promised her, and reached out to her again. "Isolde-,"
Treva let her mother's face melt off her like a mask, revealing the furious teenager underneath. "Treva," she hissed in response, and would have gone for her wand, but there was an appetizing piece of plywood lying nearby, so she threw that instead.
Her uncle stumbled backwards in shock, which turned into reddening with fury and cursing, and Treva matched that word for word.
"Rydych chi'n gaeth! Beth oeddech chi'n meddwl-"
The door burst open and her mother came down the steps, white-faced. Madoc was not far behind. Treva knew Ilene was at a friend's house and vaguely hoped Steffan was playing upstairs with Winnie. Then her sisterly concern vanished in the face of the rage bubbling up at her mother. "Rwy'n eich casáu chi," she seethed. "Sut allech chi? Rydych chi'n drueni, y ddau ohonoch chi!"
"Beth sy'n Digwydd?" Mad demanded angrily. "Mam?"
Isolde had begun to break down and cry.
"Peidiwch â siarad â'ch mam fel hyn," Edric sneered. "Nid oes gennych barch, un ohonoch chi. Dim ond oherwydd eich bod chi'n blant Owain yn unig y mae'r teulu hwn yn ei wneud-,"
Treva did pull her wand then, and her uncle's green eyes widened in surprise. "Peidiwch byth â dweud ei enw eto, rydych yn darn o gac rheng," she snarled.
He apparated away, Isolde continued to cry, and Mad continued to demand to know what was going on. Treva told him, reluctantly. What she hadn't expected was for him to push their mother back into the tool bench. He was easily as tall as Isolde now, if not stronger, and she stumbled and fell back.
"Mad," Treva said sharply; she was furious with her mother, even hated her mother, but that didn't mean she was about to hurt her mother. Her younger brother said nothing for a moment, shoulders heaving up and down in anger, before running out.
Isolde remained where she was on the floor, and then said, in a low, painful voice, in English, as if the words would have been too difficult to get out in Welsh, "I just wanted to feel like someone loved me. How do you think I feel, dealing with you and your brother acting like I'm some monster all the time? I'm sorry, Treva. I'm sorry you think I'm a b***h and a whore and an unfit mother. I'm sorry your father is dead and that I couldn't handle it. I'm sorry you feel the way you do. But I was a person before I was your mother. And Edric was the only person who treated me like- like I was still a bloody human, not some living corpse."
Treva said nothing and just shook her head, jaw clenched.
"I had nothing," Isolde said raggedly, "Before I met your father. No parents, no home- I grew up being told no one wanted me, no matter how good I was. But he did. He wanted me. His family accepted us, eventually. And I was so happy. And I was even happier when I had you, because you were ours. To have that ripped away- that is hell on Earth, to be so happy and then have it all disappear in an instant."
"I hate you," Treva muttered again, with less passion this time, and went outside, pulling her hair out of the ponytail her mother kept her own hair in. It rippled silvery grey with grief in the sunlight, and stayed that way for a long time.
OOC:"Did you miss me?"
"Ailsa was complaining again; the woman nags like you wouldn't believe."
"Does she know?"
"Of course not. Don't worry, we're safe."
"Edric, what about the children?"
"What they don't know won't hurt them."
"You b***h! What were you ******** you! ******** pervert! What the ******** are you doing?"
"I hate you. How could you? You're disgusting, the both of you!"
"What's going on?"
"Don't speak to your mother like that. You have no respect, either of you. This family only puts up with it because you're Owain's children."
"Don't you ever say his name again, you rank piece of s**t."
It's the right way in the wrong direction
I pray but there's no connection
But fame, always such a waste
Oh sweet misery
Take what you want from me.
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