Post by Rosaliz Hernandez G6 on Aug 3, 2010 22:18:55 GMT
Revenge. It was a thing nearly everybody heard about but few truly understood. Truthfully one could only grasp the concept if they had a reason to. Others could only look from the outside in; never fully understanding what drove a person to seek out another. Vengeance was a sort of unwritten law for those wronged by another to a degree that living life as it had been before wronged became impossible. Rosaliz, she understood all of this. At a young age she’d been forced upon a reason to, death or rather, murder. It was the gravest of all sins, of all possible indiscretions. She had been thirteen when her father’s life had been stolen by an unidentified killer. Yes, her daddy dearest hadn’t been wrapped up in the best business. He had been the type searching for a way to let darkness take over the day once more. The man himself committed murders but that didn’t mean his own death was justified. No, in the mind of the sixteen year old Gryffindor understood the taking of her father’s life only meant one thing. Revenge.
Rosaliz stood hunched over with her palms pressed tightly against the window sill of her bedroom. Despite the cool cerulean color that surrounded her pupils a cloud had taken over her eyes dark enough to rival any night sky. Underneath her left palm there lay a piece of parchment she’d only moments ago received. After reading and rereading the note the girl no longer needed the physical words in front of her to know exactly what it called for her to do. It called for her to act, for all of them. Even in her life away from Hogwarts Rosaliz had known this day would come. Just because she lived a lavish life of parties mixed with an occasional side of private tutoring hadn’t meant she’d forgotten the promise she had made to the masked demon or herself. She was to find and destroy the people who’d done this to her, the women who’d made her the jaded girl who made even the strongest psychiatrists cringe. Oh yes, she knew any person in their right mind would have found a way to escape the domino effects tonight would no doubt produce. So it was a hell of a good thing that her mental stability stood questionable at best. With a small and infamous smirk on her face, the girl turned on her heel sending a wave of blonde hair cascading as she did so. A tilt of her head directed those devious blues towards her closet where her mask and attire waited patiently. Slowly Rosaliz began to walk towards the open double doors, stilettos tapping steadily against the hard wood. Reaching into the barely there pockets of her dress she withdrew her wand only to wave it thoughtlessly. A hidden shelf of her closet emerged holding one single object, her mask. Grasping the metal in her hands felt amazing. It was about damn time.
For once it didn’t take Rosaliz long to dress. Tight black leather covered her entire body hugging tightly every curve her body had to offer. The outfit fit in such a way that she had to remind herself sometimes that she was wearing anything at all. Moments ago the hair that had been blond now boasted a jet black color. Aside from her eyes she was a person not even her own mother would recognize. One more noticeable look of deviousness spread across her lips before she lifted her right hand and the mask it clutched so tightly. When the metal detected the cool traces of her skin, it began to move accordingly. It pressed perfectly against her features, the black welding into a near second face. The only things visible were a pair of brewing blues, the ones passed directly down from her father. She wanted to look her father’s killer in the eyes if only for a second. That way she’d know the reparations his death brought about. Too bad she hadn’t known upon casting that killing curse that daddy raised a demon. Her gloved hands reached quickly for her wand and an accompanying sword. Both she placed against the fabric of her pants and they too welded into one with only the ends exposed for personal easy access. The next order of business was her broom which those same hands grasped only seconds later. Without so much as a second thought, Rosaliz mounted her broom. The flight didn’t seem to take long. A loud mind provided quite the company while enroute. What seemed like minutes later, Rosaliz caught sight of her destination up ahead. The girl decided to stop short and walk the remainder of the distance. She didn’t know what to expect and wasn’t about to go barreling into an unknown situation. Black hair blowing mercilessly in the wind behind her she quietly stood against a tree nearest the entrance of the garden waiting for somebody else to move first.
Rosaliz stood hunched over with her palms pressed tightly against the window sill of her bedroom. Despite the cool cerulean color that surrounded her pupils a cloud had taken over her eyes dark enough to rival any night sky. Underneath her left palm there lay a piece of parchment she’d only moments ago received. After reading and rereading the note the girl no longer needed the physical words in front of her to know exactly what it called for her to do. It called for her to act, for all of them. Even in her life away from Hogwarts Rosaliz had known this day would come. Just because she lived a lavish life of parties mixed with an occasional side of private tutoring hadn’t meant she’d forgotten the promise she had made to the masked demon or herself. She was to find and destroy the people who’d done this to her, the women who’d made her the jaded girl who made even the strongest psychiatrists cringe. Oh yes, she knew any person in their right mind would have found a way to escape the domino effects tonight would no doubt produce. So it was a hell of a good thing that her mental stability stood questionable at best. With a small and infamous smirk on her face, the girl turned on her heel sending a wave of blonde hair cascading as she did so. A tilt of her head directed those devious blues towards her closet where her mask and attire waited patiently. Slowly Rosaliz began to walk towards the open double doors, stilettos tapping steadily against the hard wood. Reaching into the barely there pockets of her dress she withdrew her wand only to wave it thoughtlessly. A hidden shelf of her closet emerged holding one single object, her mask. Grasping the metal in her hands felt amazing. It was about damn time.
For once it didn’t take Rosaliz long to dress. Tight black leather covered her entire body hugging tightly every curve her body had to offer. The outfit fit in such a way that she had to remind herself sometimes that she was wearing anything at all. Moments ago the hair that had been blond now boasted a jet black color. Aside from her eyes she was a person not even her own mother would recognize. One more noticeable look of deviousness spread across her lips before she lifted her right hand and the mask it clutched so tightly. When the metal detected the cool traces of her skin, it began to move accordingly. It pressed perfectly against her features, the black welding into a near second face. The only things visible were a pair of brewing blues, the ones passed directly down from her father. She wanted to look her father’s killer in the eyes if only for a second. That way she’d know the reparations his death brought about. Too bad she hadn’t known upon casting that killing curse that daddy raised a demon. Her gloved hands reached quickly for her wand and an accompanying sword. Both she placed against the fabric of her pants and they too welded into one with only the ends exposed for personal easy access. The next order of business was her broom which those same hands grasped only seconds later. Without so much as a second thought, Rosaliz mounted her broom. The flight didn’t seem to take long. A loud mind provided quite the company while enroute. What seemed like minutes later, Rosaliz caught sight of her destination up ahead. The girl decided to stop short and walk the remainder of the distance. She didn’t know what to expect and wasn’t about to go barreling into an unknown situation. Black hair blowing mercilessly in the wind behind her she quietly stood against a tree nearest the entrance of the garden waiting for somebody else to move first.