Post by Rosaliz Hernandez G6 on Aug 14, 2008 0:36:19 GMT
((I know this is a weird situation to put Sadie in, but I need this post for Rosaliz's plot...hope you don't mind.))
Rosaliz was an insomniac by nature - but even so, she did get a few hours of sleep every now and then. Her wand securely stowed within reach of her nightwear, the fourteen-year-old had fallen asleep the night before her departure from the train station, only getting in a few hours of rest. When she heard an object fall she sat upright in bed, her wand concealed within her right palm as she drowsily looked for an offender. Nobody was there but she spotted one of her owls cage not far from the foot of her bed, apparently her bird had been munching on the left over pieces of sandwich Rosaliz had placed an hour or so in her cage. Apparently her flapping of her wings against her cage made the rattling noise. She smirked gently to herself...
an hour later...
Sitting on her own bed, Rosaliz had been reading by way of candlelight. She had found a set of candles within the back of her drawer when she returned back home and used them for illumination, as her room was always were extremely dark in the dead of night. Her mind was engrossed within a read that was actually fictional: Rosaliz hardly ever bothered with books that were not based on facts but she had given this one a chance and was rather intrigued by it. The book itself offered a lot of insight, in a perspective Rosaliz never knew was quite possible. Next: examining the Daily Prophet with a precise and eager eye. She scanned every article on every page, even in the unlikely sections of the paper. She needed information and must keep an eye for any evidence that could point to anything related to: her aunt Margie. It seemed Margie had been keeping a low profile ever since she started having trouble with her so called wonderful niece…yeah right. Rosaliz knew she was trying to hide encase if she took a wrong step nobody would figure it was her….So far, nothing had surfaced in the paper - but this did not assuage Rosaliz's fears any less. She knew that the legal guardian of hers was looking for her, keeping it private and under wraps as much as possible so as to not arouse suspicion. Even though they were legally her guardian, too many questions would be asked of the guardian that might reveal her seedy work and dirty, underground dealings. Rosaliz had not a single doubt in her mind that this was the type of person that was supposed to be in charge of her: the same person as her Uncle, perhaps even worse. Rosaliz needed to work out how she was going to spend this next summer. She was a couple of years short of being an adult witch. What would go on in that time frame? The Gryffindor had no clue but she needed an escape plan, perhaps several. The very last thing she wanted was to fall underneath the guardianship of another dictator, another person to attach a burden to her.
Climbing out of her own bed, Rosaliz placed the wand on her bedside table before quickly changing into a pair of jeans and a black jumper. Rosaliz picked up the wand and replaced it in her pocket before locating her pair of trainers. Slipping her toes into her shoes, Rosaliz , picked up her charmed bag, which was right next to her owl's cage and the last thing she did before leaving her room was running a unicorn hair brush through her light blonde locks. Standing up, Rosaliz made her way through her empty home. She usually could be found in general within the shadows of the dust-ridden attic, her dormitory, in what use to be her mother's old office, or outside in the dead of night. Rosaliz whiled away much of her time in this particular part of a nearby woods. It usually desolate most of the time. People found the woods in a dank and dark state which seemed rather creepy; It was, however, the place Rosaliz spent a good majority of the time, particularly because of the season Great Britain was currently facing. She made her way to her new hiding spot.… Rosaliz found it suitable for her needs. Not only she could stay out of any muggle site, the Gryffindor could think and contemplate here without the worry of anybody probing. Rosaliz was incredibly private and did not let anybody in on her going-ons and what her objectives were in life. Nobody need know about it; it would only cause unneeded suspicion and attention drawn to herself. The Gryffindor had scouted out the this place two weeks beforehand and came across this it after losing in her train of thought allowing her feat to carry wherever they desired. After ensuring that not many people passed through the area, Rosaliz devised a system that would alert her of people making their way down near her hiding spot. She put a spell she learned from one of her father's texts: the ground was magicked so that footsteps would echo in her ears as they drew closer to her. They themselves would not hear the heightened volume, but it would give Rosaliz time to change her train of thought or the spell she might be using at the moment.
After an hour's worth of walking later, Rosaliz was in her usual camp out in the woods, wand at the ready, intense gaze upon a piece of a broken chair several feet in front of her, which she had brought from her past visits. Repeating a spell over and over in her mind, trying to grasp the right enunciation of the incantation, Rosaliz began to run through her wand work. Her wrist astutely whipped back and forth while she kept it pointed at the wooden object, though nothing spurted out of her wand tip. The incantation had not been performed with the action. Finally, Rosaliz performed both simultaneously: stating the spell clear as a bell, no emotion lathered in her voice, she twisted her wrist quickly and with rapid grace, sending purple sparks out of the end of her wand. Watching with metallic hazel eyes, Rosaliz noticed as the spell zoomed directly toward the broken chair, smashing it into smithereens seconds later. Watching as the wood pieces flew into the air silently, eventually making their way onto the cold stone ground. No emotion displaying within her physiognomy, Rosaliz took out a folded sheet of brown parchment in her pocket, reviewing the steps for her next spell. They were mere basics in the next step of her independent training, but used correctly, they could cause much damage.
Why you may ask, Rosaliz spent time at perfecting her spells? She was in training when she were to meet her aunt once more. Her last encounter didn’t go so well and she almost died because of it. She learned her lesson the hard way. But at the same time she was thankful for it. It made her more determined towards her goal. Her metallic eyes standing so intensely within her countenance, Rosaliz began to consider what her new plans were. Overcoming the Patronus. Her addition, greed, was a crux for it encompassed a most selfish and power-inducing position, in Rosaliz's eyes. Her mindset had always run along the lines of what she could acquire next and how she was going to go about getting it, somehow or another. What separated her from the masses of those who had paralleling desires was the cool, hard logic Rosaliz incorporated. She did not act impulsively or without thinking; every thing had a plan and at least three others in case something went on the floozy. Nothing was in concrete at the moment but Rosaliz was forming ideas, ones she hoped would eventually give her the pleasure she desired. What Rosaliz wanted, Rosaliz received. A few moments later, Rosaliz heard echoes of pounding footsteps bouncing from the outside forest into her eardrums, causing her reaction to be sharp and quick. Tapping her wand against the parchment sheet, the ink faded and disappeared indefinitely. Rosaliz had time to slip it back into her pocket, wand twirling within her fingers as her eyes in the direction of sound of the crunching of leaves. She stood wondering who exactly was interrupting her practice.
Rosaliz was an insomniac by nature - but even so, she did get a few hours of sleep every now and then. Her wand securely stowed within reach of her nightwear, the fourteen-year-old had fallen asleep the night before her departure from the train station, only getting in a few hours of rest. When she heard an object fall she sat upright in bed, her wand concealed within her right palm as she drowsily looked for an offender. Nobody was there but she spotted one of her owls cage not far from the foot of her bed, apparently her bird had been munching on the left over pieces of sandwich Rosaliz had placed an hour or so in her cage. Apparently her flapping of her wings against her cage made the rattling noise. She smirked gently to herself...
an hour later...
Sitting on her own bed, Rosaliz had been reading by way of candlelight. She had found a set of candles within the back of her drawer when she returned back home and used them for illumination, as her room was always were extremely dark in the dead of night. Her mind was engrossed within a read that was actually fictional: Rosaliz hardly ever bothered with books that were not based on facts but she had given this one a chance and was rather intrigued by it. The book itself offered a lot of insight, in a perspective Rosaliz never knew was quite possible. Next: examining the Daily Prophet with a precise and eager eye. She scanned every article on every page, even in the unlikely sections of the paper. She needed information and must keep an eye for any evidence that could point to anything related to: her aunt Margie. It seemed Margie had been keeping a low profile ever since she started having trouble with her so called wonderful niece…yeah right. Rosaliz knew she was trying to hide encase if she took a wrong step nobody would figure it was her….So far, nothing had surfaced in the paper - but this did not assuage Rosaliz's fears any less. She knew that the legal guardian of hers was looking for her, keeping it private and under wraps as much as possible so as to not arouse suspicion. Even though they were legally her guardian, too many questions would be asked of the guardian that might reveal her seedy work and dirty, underground dealings. Rosaliz had not a single doubt in her mind that this was the type of person that was supposed to be in charge of her: the same person as her Uncle, perhaps even worse. Rosaliz needed to work out how she was going to spend this next summer. She was a couple of years short of being an adult witch. What would go on in that time frame? The Gryffindor had no clue but she needed an escape plan, perhaps several. The very last thing she wanted was to fall underneath the guardianship of another dictator, another person to attach a burden to her.
Climbing out of her own bed, Rosaliz placed the wand on her bedside table before quickly changing into a pair of jeans and a black jumper. Rosaliz picked up the wand and replaced it in her pocket before locating her pair of trainers. Slipping her toes into her shoes, Rosaliz , picked up her charmed bag, which was right next to her owl's cage and the last thing she did before leaving her room was running a unicorn hair brush through her light blonde locks. Standing up, Rosaliz made her way through her empty home. She usually could be found in general within the shadows of the dust-ridden attic, her dormitory, in what use to be her mother's old office, or outside in the dead of night. Rosaliz whiled away much of her time in this particular part of a nearby woods. It usually desolate most of the time. People found the woods in a dank and dark state which seemed rather creepy; It was, however, the place Rosaliz spent a good majority of the time, particularly because of the season Great Britain was currently facing. She made her way to her new hiding spot.… Rosaliz found it suitable for her needs. Not only she could stay out of any muggle site, the Gryffindor could think and contemplate here without the worry of anybody probing. Rosaliz was incredibly private and did not let anybody in on her going-ons and what her objectives were in life. Nobody need know about it; it would only cause unneeded suspicion and attention drawn to herself. The Gryffindor had scouted out the this place two weeks beforehand and came across this it after losing in her train of thought allowing her feat to carry wherever they desired. After ensuring that not many people passed through the area, Rosaliz devised a system that would alert her of people making their way down near her hiding spot. She put a spell she learned from one of her father's texts: the ground was magicked so that footsteps would echo in her ears as they drew closer to her. They themselves would not hear the heightened volume, but it would give Rosaliz time to change her train of thought or the spell she might be using at the moment.
After an hour's worth of walking later, Rosaliz was in her usual camp out in the woods, wand at the ready, intense gaze upon a piece of a broken chair several feet in front of her, which she had brought from her past visits. Repeating a spell over and over in her mind, trying to grasp the right enunciation of the incantation, Rosaliz began to run through her wand work. Her wrist astutely whipped back and forth while she kept it pointed at the wooden object, though nothing spurted out of her wand tip. The incantation had not been performed with the action. Finally, Rosaliz performed both simultaneously: stating the spell clear as a bell, no emotion lathered in her voice, she twisted her wrist quickly and with rapid grace, sending purple sparks out of the end of her wand. Watching with metallic hazel eyes, Rosaliz noticed as the spell zoomed directly toward the broken chair, smashing it into smithereens seconds later. Watching as the wood pieces flew into the air silently, eventually making their way onto the cold stone ground. No emotion displaying within her physiognomy, Rosaliz took out a folded sheet of brown parchment in her pocket, reviewing the steps for her next spell. They were mere basics in the next step of her independent training, but used correctly, they could cause much damage.
Why you may ask, Rosaliz spent time at perfecting her spells? She was in training when she were to meet her aunt once more. Her last encounter didn’t go so well and she almost died because of it. She learned her lesson the hard way. But at the same time she was thankful for it. It made her more determined towards her goal. Her metallic eyes standing so intensely within her countenance, Rosaliz began to consider what her new plans were. Overcoming the Patronus. Her addition, greed, was a crux for it encompassed a most selfish and power-inducing position, in Rosaliz's eyes. Her mindset had always run along the lines of what she could acquire next and how she was going to go about getting it, somehow or another. What separated her from the masses of those who had paralleling desires was the cool, hard logic Rosaliz incorporated. She did not act impulsively or without thinking; every thing had a plan and at least three others in case something went on the floozy. Nothing was in concrete at the moment but Rosaliz was forming ideas, ones she hoped would eventually give her the pleasure she desired. What Rosaliz wanted, Rosaliz received. A few moments later, Rosaliz heard echoes of pounding footsteps bouncing from the outside forest into her eardrums, causing her reaction to be sharp and quick. Tapping her wand against the parchment sheet, the ink faded and disappeared indefinitely. Rosaliz had time to slip it back into her pocket, wand twirling within her fingers as her eyes in the direction of sound of the crunching of leaves. She stood wondering who exactly was interrupting her practice.
))