roscxlinda-blog

[roscxlinda-blog]

as my muse for old threads seems to have vanished into nothingness, drop a like for a starter ! i shall hop into your messages for some nice plotting faster than you can say quidditch.

#wizardstartercall

[roscxlinda-blog]

#- ̗̀ ❛ she is soft and totally hurtable and that’s what being wild is. ❜ // mirror #- ̗̀ ❛ i am not a woman. i am lightning and starlight. ❜ // rosalind

[roscxlinda-blog]

- ̗̀ ❛   @jaaybirrd.

    if life had decided to play a practical joke on her, rosalind wasn't enjoying it nearly enough as it thought she should--- between potentially harming peers, to missing her chance at caffeine, the brunette was positive that nothing else could go wrong. there was no way that after an hour packed with tripping, running, bulldozing ravenclaws and missing breakfast anything else could happen to put yet another damper in her already sour mood. her temper was tricky, roz knew that, it was boiling and mean and that was precisely when she kept it on a tight leash--- no one had seen her lose it in years, and she wasn't about to let a bad morning get the best of her. so, instead of cursing the fates, the girl just pushed through--- classes, mindless chats, everything that came with yet another term at hogwarts. despite the headache that her missing coffee left behind and the soreness of the bruise forming on her arm, roz managed to get to the end of the day in one piece : not a happy piece, but solidly together.

   after a long shower, a change of clothes and an hour of sulking ( and her assignments procrastinated for another day ), she felt like another woman entirely--- finally opening the letter from her cousin and making her way back out of the gryffindor common room, only paying mild attention to the buzzing around her. it was nothing important : hayley missed her, missed england, was planning on returning during christmas break, she'd burned through two boyfriends in a month ( ... ) it was as she read about rafael, boyfriend two, that she hit a wall. it was an odd wall--- warm and not exactly feeling like concrete against her cheek, but it wasn't exactly soft either. as her eyes moved up and she recognized the back of his head, roz took a step back and couldn't help a laugh ; a hoarse, throaty sound. unlike the similar situation this morning, the irony of this encounter filled her voice with humour, as much humour as one could have after they'd nearly ran over two people in one day.  " i was going to apologise, but apparently this is how we greet each other now. "

#wizard:thestartofterm #- ̗̀ ❛ events. // start of term. #- ̗̀ ❛ conversations. // jay. #- ̗̀ ❛ jay. // 002. #- ̗̀ ❛ location. // gryffindor common room. #- ̗̀ ❛ date. // september 2nd 1988. #- ̗̀ ❛ i have a soft spot for secret passageways that open into silence. ❜ // writing #- ̗̀ ❛ i'm sorry tonight is not my night but i tried. // ooc.

[roscxlinda-blog]

- ̗̀ ❛   @blythecarlisle.

     it wasn't exactly like rosalind had tried to wake up late for the first day of class : in fact, she'd been very keen on doing the exact opposite of that. but, as per usual, she'd rolled her way out of bed in a mix of panic and dread, thrown long hair into a ponytail to avoid having to wash it and dashed her way down to the great hall, hoping to at least find a way to drink a half-decent cup of coffee before breakfast was over. it seemed like a bad omen, starting her last year at hogwarts as a complete mess but roz wasn't too concerned--- the wasn't the type of girl to sit around and find reasons to be miserable. no, she found the positive and fought for it--- if she couldn't? well, she just learned to live with the problem if there was no solution.

     so, as she nearly tripped over her own feet twice and managed to drop her wand on her way down the stairs, the gryffindor decided that she wasn't going to pay too much attention to a bad start. it was what came afterward that mattered. unfortunately, what did happen next was a head-on collision with someone who had peacefully left the great hall just before roz had bulldozed them.  " mierda! "  steadying the person she'd ran over had been difficult but the brunette witch had managed it--- just barely.  " i'm so sorry, are you hurt? "

#wizard:thestartofterm #- ̗̀ ❛ events. // start of term. #- ̗̀ ❛ conversations. // blythe. #- ̗̀ ❛ blythe. // 001. #- ̗̀ ❛ location. // great hall. #- ̗̀ ❛ date. // september 2nd 1988. #- ̗̀ ❛ i have a soft spot for secret passageways that open into silence. ❜ // writing #- ̗̀ ❛ HAVE A CLICHÉ i'm sorry. // ooc.

[roscxlinda-blog]

- ̗̀ ❛   @xochilts.

" estas por tu cuenta este año. "  it had been months since roz had laid eyes on xochilt, but it seemed like one couldn't walk the halls of hogwarts on the first day of school without running into everyone they knew inside the castle--- which was odd in itself, considering how little the two witches actually saw each other. still, the opportunity had presented itself and the gryffindor tried to keep her face straight as she spoke. it wasn't the first time she'd said this and they both knew it, but this time roz was hopeful that it would stick--- for someone who didn't have little sisters, it sure seemed so when she'd found herself tending to a less than sober xo.  " this is the year where i don't struggle to keep you from flashing everyone. "

#wizard:thestartofterm #- ̗̀ ❛ events. // start of term. #- ̗̀ ❛ conversations. // xochilt. #- ̗̀ ❛ xochilt. // 001. #- ̗̀ ❛ date. // september 2nd 1988. #- ̗̀ ❛ i have a soft spot for secret passageways that open into silence. ❜ // writing #- ̗̀ ❛ this is terrible but i'm not very inspired tonight i'm sorry. // ooc.

[roscxlinda-blog]

#- ̗̀ ❛ the collection. ❜ // vinyl. #- ̗̀ ❛ a little ahead of time and in another language but accurate. // ooc. #- ̗̀ ❛ from the pov of the person the song was written for. // ooc. #- ̗̀ ❛ tl;dr : roz is a mess at love hello. // ooc.

[roscxlinda-blog]

#- ̗̀ ❛ she is soft and totally hurtable and that’s what being wild is. ❜ // mirror #- ̗̀ ❛ i am not a woman. i am lightning and starlight. ❜ // rosalind

[roscxlinda-blog]

I like messy people; people who don’t fit in a box or stay between the lines, but whose integrity is greater than any rule book and whose loyalty is stronger than blood.

Jim Wern (via wordsnquotes)

#- ̗̀ ❛ and silence like darkness can be kind ; it too is a language. ❜ // musings #- ̗̀ ❛ i am not a woman. i am lightning and starlight. ❜ // rosalind #- ̗̀ ❛ laugh at men who tell you you’re pretty. you are more than that. ❜ // about

[roscxlinda-blog]

- ̗̀ ❛  @ccrstcirs.

     " it happened again. "  plopping herself down next to pippa, the brunette let out a mixture of a whine and a sigh--- very few people got to see rosalind ashby like this, and the honor ( or misfortune ) was generally reserved for one phillipa castairs. they'd exchanged owls over the summer as they always had, but this year their schedules hadn't matched : the lack of interaction during their holidays made roz restless, as missing people always did, but right now there was a situation to be handled. well--- when she said situation it was more like yet another mess that she'd gotten herself into. nothing new, but certainly something she'd never been good at handling--- not without pippa.  " do you think i'm cursed? not wizard cursed, just... pretend muggle cursed. "  the train remained still and rosalind let her head rest against her friend's shoulder, enjoying the closeness as much as she did being able to speak to someone she considered close to her--- the issue with having few true friends, she'd come to learn.

#wizard:thestartofterm #- ̗̀ ❛ events. // start of term. #- ̗̀ ❛ conversations. // pippa. #- ̗̀ ❛ pippa. // 001. #- ̗̀ ❛ i have a soft spot for secret passageways that open into silence. ❜ // writing #- ̗̀ ❛ location. // hogwarts express. #- ̗̀ ❛ date. // september 1st 1988.

[roscxlinda-blog]

- ̗̀ ❛  clarabaes.

  “–has anyone seen mildred hawthorne?” claramae’s posh accented voice rung out clear over whatever conversation had been taking place. her hands gripped both sides of the entrance to the compartment as the express hit a miniature rough patch, revealing the nice sized ring on her left hand. her eyes scanned over her audience, her earthen gaze resting on rosalind a few moments longer than they had on everyone else. “she was supposed to be in the prefects carriage an hour ago..”

     roz had barely look up from the book she'd had on her lap, one of the old volumes her grandfather presented her with every year as part of what he called ' continuing the spreading of culture over generations ', before she'd noticed the ring. it was a beautiful piece of jewelry and, frankly, the gryffindor would have appreciated it regardless of the hands that wore it, but she could admit that the attention had been drawn because it currently sat on claramae bagnold's ring finger. oh. subtle enough to shift her gaze smoothly, roz simply closed her book and kept her expression locked in polite friendliness : speaking before anyone else could.  " she was heading to the bathroom last time i saw her, half an hour ago. "

#wizard:thestartofterm #- ̗̀ ❛ events. // start of term. #- ̗̀ ❛ conversations. // claramae. #- ̗̀ ❛ claramae. // 001. #- ̗̀ ❛ location. // hogwarts express. #- ̗̀ ❛ date. // september 1st 1988. #- ̗̀ ❛ i have a soft spot for secret passageways that open into silence. ❜ // writing

[roscxlinda-blog]

- hogwarts houses common rooms aesthetic

#wizard:thestartofterm #- ̗̀ ❛ events. // start of term. #- ̗̀ ❛ beauty like art could only be subjective as magical things often are. ❜ // aesthetics. #- ̗̀ ❛ fortune favours the daring. ❜ // gryffindor.

[roscxlinda-blog]

#- ̗̀ ❛ and silence like darkness can be kind ; it too is a language. ❜ // musings #- ̗̀ ❛ i am not a woman. i am lightning and starlight. ❜ // rosalind

[roscxlinda-blog]

- ̗̀ ❛  jaaybirrd.

       as if her’s were infectious, jay’s smile began to form at the same time as rosalind’s. he jolted back, hand gripping his arm as if she’d actually wounded him; he grimaced dramatically. “yeah, well so does my arm.” he joked. “sorry about that, roz.” he was glad his housemate was feeling forgiving, since not many people would be at being bumped into by the nearing seven foot student– and wouldn’t hesitate to damn well let him know it. jay gave her a once over. “nice threads. you out on the town?” he asked. it was likely she was, but then again, you never knew– he was in wizarding montegreedio on business, after all. as nonsensical as that sounded, it was the truth.

      “if you come here often, maybe you could go to some of my gigs in the future. well, damon and i’s, as in dj. its official.” jay said with an excited grin. “maybe then i could make up for spilling your drink,” he added, his smile now apologetic. he paused to look up at the sky. jay had always been pretty good at telling the time, without having a watch to glance at. he wasn’t sure why, but he’d always been like that, never needing an alarm clock to get up on time. no, no– he willingly chose to be late to class. “actually,” jay smiled boyishly. “i’ve got some time now. could i like, replace your drink?”

     " i would say your arm deserves it, considering the situation. but i guess it's fine, no harm done--- except for the drink, of course. "  there was humour in her voice as rosalind gave a little tilt of her head, the smile still rock solid on her face : she might have given him at least a good shout had he been anyone else, but it felt nice to just run into a friend, especially considering how her night had been going thus far--- she hadn't seen too many people from school over the summer, she never did if she were to be truly honest, and it was then that she realised that she'd started to miss hogwarts again. but, since she couldn't go back just yet, she'd settle for jay's presence.  " my cousin came to visit, and i was physically forced into it. since she got distracted with a handsome wizard i decided to leave them be before i saw more than i wished i had. "

     the information granted the boy with a pat on the arm--- this time a soft, congratulatory one. roz wasn't exactly excited but he was, and she had always considered that if he friends were enthusiastic she was too : even if she wouldn't have necessarily cared much in the first place.  " i'm happy for you, mendina. i can, just tell me when. it should be fun. "  nodding, the gryffindor arched a brow--- there was a second of thought and she moved to loop her arm around his, her free hand gesturing to the mass of people around them ; to the energy and life and music of the street.  " lead the way, i have nothing better to do. and it's my principle to never refuse free drinks--- even if they're replacements. "  grinning, the witch lifted her head to look at her friend, the friendly closeness not bothering her in the slightest. roz had always been a tactile person.  " how's the summer been for you, then? "

#wizard:summerholiday88 #- ̗̀ ❛ events. // summer holidays. #- ̗̀ ❛ conversations. // jay. #- ̗̀ ❛ jay. // 001. #- ̗̀ ❛ location. // montegreedio. #- ̗̀ ❛ date. // august 1988. #- ̗̀ ❛ i have a soft spot for secret passageways that open into silence. ❜ // writing

[roscxlinda-blog]

- ̗̀ ❛   vcsquezz.

    this summer was different for several reasons. the first being that he’d finally passed his muggle driving examination and had been granted his license, a new kind of freedom that he’d been all too happy to accept. he’d been scraping together pounds here and there over the years to be able to afford a car of his own and had been overjoyed nearly three years earlier when his father had offered to help him re-build an antique car they’d found at an auction. it had taken them the greater part  O F  those three years to get it running but it was now with great pride that nix was able to drive through the countryside in a car that he and his father had built from the ground up.  sure, it stalled quite often and guzzled more gas than he’d even believed possible, but it was all his. the only stipulation? he needed a job if he wanted to be able to put gas in said gas guzzling automobile. his parents were all too happy to exchange any galleons he made working odd jobs with muggle money so when he’d heard that there was a gryffindor student in his year looking for some help he’d been none too reluctant to offer to help. 

     that is, until he spotted her sitting underneath one of the umbrella topped tables with her teeth digging into her lower lip and her hands fixated on the sundae in front of her.  oh god, no.  nix was great at a lot of things - he was great at transfigurations, at driving, and at playing mini-golf with one hand trapped behind his back, but spending time around pretty girls without swallowing his tongue and making an ass of himself? that, he’d never managed. while he panicked internally and debated running away, he realized that the girl’s eyes had drifted over to him in his shock-still position. shit. … and now she was staring at him.  busted.  with his anxiety swirling deep within him he sucked in a deep breath, sinking into the chair directly across from her as he summoned up a smile. it was definitely too wide, too much teeth, but he was nervous. he couldn’t help it. “uh - hey, you’re roz, right? or was it rosalind? do you prefer rosalind? i remember you mentioned both in your owls but i can’t remember which one you said you preferred.   I F  you even said that you did. i don’t remember, i have a terrible memory, hah.”  he blanched, realizing too late that his rambling probably wasn’t helping him make a very good impression. double shit.  “sorry, i’m phoenix. but you can call me nix, no one calls me phoenix. well, professors do, but that’s mostly because i don’t correct them. it would just be, y’know,” he made a face, “…awkward, right?”   like this entire interaction, he couldn’t help but think - but he kept that to himself.

     there was nothing roz could do, really, but stare at the most perfect example of word vomit she'd ever witnessed in her life--- the boy had managed to squeeze more information into a minute of speech than she felt like she ever had ; it was difficult to even try to keep up. it did well to make her forget she'd been nervous in the first place, and while she was thankful for that she also couldn't not be amused--- very slowly setting the small spoon in her sundae and raising her eyebrows, fighting the smile that seemed to be forcing itself onto her lips. terrible with names, roz hadn't pinpointed where she recognised him from until just now and her head tilted with recognition, the babbling turning into a bit of background noise as she studied her new tutor. he'd played for hufflepuff last year, and she vaguely remembered thinking he was good--- interesting.

     with a soft clear of her throat and that sneaky smile finally winning out, roz wet her lips and nodded, trying to figure out where she'd be going from here--- the best way to make this situation a tad less awkward ( more for his sake than hers, at this point ).  " let me see if i followed, "  the smile widened and the brunette brought some more sundae to her mouth before she spoke, her tone light with a hint of humour.  " roz is fine, rosalind's a bit of a mouthful, innit? and i don't think i specified in my owls, but my own memory isn't exactly brilliant either, so that's something we have in common. as for correcting teachers, it wouldn’t be awkward--- mutually respectful, i would say. lastly, it's nice to meet you, nix. wicked name. "  roz paused, deciding she liked this guy--- for all his sudden outburst of weirdness, he seemed to be nice enough. and, yes, terribly amusing.  " did i miss anything? "

- ̗̀ ❛  unwanted ice cream sundaes. // nix.

#wizard:summerholiday88 #- ̗̀ ❛ events. // summer holidays. #- ̗̀ ❛ conversations. // nix. #- ̗̀ ❛ nix. // 001. #- ̗̀ ❛ unwanted ice cream sundaes. // thread. #- ̗̀ ❛ location. // diagon alley. #- ̗̀ ❛ location. // fortescue's ice cream parlour. #- ̗̀ ❛ date. // early august 1988. #- ̗̀ ❛ i have a soft spot for secret passageways that open into silence. ❜ // writing

[roscxlinda-blog]

- ̗̀ ❛  fainuu.

                                        𝓕riday, 𝓐ugust 12th 1988

                                                          𝓖lasgow, 𝓢cotland

         𝓑eloved 𝓡osalind,

   𝓘t never occurred to you that making you upset might be exactly what i intended? you just make my mind games way too easy, roz. did you know that premature stress leads to premature wrinkles? you’re not gonna have a smooth face forever. you might want to think about the burden of time next time you consider scalping me. also, i hear azkaban’s not everyone’s favourite holiday destination.n

    𝓐lso, i hardly think you got the best deal in this equation. the sun can also provoke irreparable skin damage. looks like the combination of stress and solar rays will leave you looking like a house elf by the time you turn 40. by the way, everyone here loves you. with the obvious exception of the the writer of this letter.n

    𝓦hat team does your uncle lead, by the way? i haven’t heard of a winning mexican team in decades. sounds like he’s not doing that good of a job. plus, aside from me and aidan, our team is pretty much made up by whoever can sit on a broom for 5+ seconds. i plan on putting together a great one next year. maybe you should join, since you’re so certain that i’m doing such a terrible job. then you could come to the meetings and explain all the things i’m doing wrong. if you prove me wrong, we’ll get back to that broomstick kink.

                                                                   𝓚indest regards,

                                                                                    𝓓uncan 𝓕ainu'u

                                                                                 monday, august 15th 1988    my everlasting nightmare,

   as always, your response has left me questioning whether you found a hobby in chewing on your toxic crib bars as a toddler, as the effects of that potential situation would do well to explain why you are who you are. and, let me add, that if i get premature wrinkles they will be solely based on how excruciatingly your presence in my life has been thus far. furthermore, azkaban would be a small price to pay for the satisfaction of using your neck as my very own squishy, muggle stress ball.

    what is the sudden fascination with my skin? i know it's of superior quality, and positively glowing, but i didn't think you would have noticed, at least not enough to be so fixated on it. i'm glad to know i dazzle you enough for that, sweetness. tell the family that i appreciate knowing that, and that i reciprocate the feeling. counting out, of course, the person to which i'm writing.

   is that an invitation for me to go in-depth about how underfunded mexican quidditch is? because i can, and will, discuss it at length. if we put in a quarter of the money that the muggle government puts into football, i'll have you know mexico would be a force to be reckoned with... but i digress. you don't need to remind me of the god-awful state of the gryffindor team, i watched every match last year. the image is still very much alive in my head. but, at your invitation, i might just very well pay my dues and try out. that would serve you right, wouldn't it?

   i'd start polishing said broomstick, duncan, as i'm afraid its destination is very much determined.

   awaiting a response with bated breath,             roz

#wizard:summerholiday88 #- ̗̀ ❛ events. // summer holidays. #- ̗̀ ❛ conversations. // duncan. #- ̗̀ ❛ duncan. // 001. #- ̗̀ ❛ from the owlery. // 001. #- ̗̀ ❛ i have a soft spot for secret passageways that open into silence. ❜ // writing

[roscxlinda-blog]

- ̗̀ ❛  scyre.

      it seemed like monty was spending most of his afternoons in diagon alley these days. he’d informed his friends that he was managing his affairs, getting things sorted, but in truth? he’d been sitting at a table outside one of the ice-cream shops trying to work up the courage to head inside the wizarding bank. after all, it wasn’t every day you had to hope that your family hadn’t pilfered all of the gold from your vault, leaving you penniless with nothing but a  W O R T H L E S S  name to show for it.  so instead of facing his responsibility, the slytherin procrastinated. he was flipping through an issue of the quibbler when he heard a voice that sent sirens blazing in his head, eyes rolling from behind dark sunglasses where the witch wouldn’t be able to see them. great. just what he needed. 

  monty didn’t acknowledge her call at first, hoping she’d simply disappear if he acted as if he didn’t know her. unfortunately the fates were not turned in his  F A V O R  and his disinterest didn’t seem to dissuade her any.  with a sigh he removed his sunglasses, a look that could have frozen over the most barren of deserts reserved for the woman he’d once called his girlfriend.  it didn’t matter that he’d moved on and was incredibly happy with someone else - there was a  B I T T E R N E S S  only reserved for rosalind that he was sure he’d never be able to shake. after all, the slytherin was known for holding a good  GRUDGE.  

      “…that’s my name.” he replied matter-of-factly, lips curled upwards into a hint of a sneer as he flipped his magazine shut with a flourish.  if he’d much rather be tugging his fingernails off one by one than engaging with her in this inane conversation, he was sure it was written all over his face.                                                                                 “what do you                   W A N T, rosalind?” 

     some women would have shrunk under his cold gaze ; some would have taken it as a clear indication of what was to come and would have spun on their heel and walked the other way— maybe they would have felt intimidated and small. yes, some women wouldn’t have chosen to sit down in front of the blonde, but roz saw no reason not to. he didn’t make her cower in fear, regardless of the sheer hatred in his eyes— she was a woman on a mission and once she set a goal there was no way to stop her. still, it stung : it was impossible not to feel your heart twist painfully in your chest, even if briefly, when someone you once loved cared about saw you as nothing but an annoyance, a mere inconvenience— yet her face didn’t waver, her expression frozen in polite joyfulness as she crossed her legs and sat back in the seat he hadn’t offered her. it wasn’t the first time she’d tried this, and she knew that he knew that it wouldn’t be the last.

     “ i was going to pretend to simply be interested in how your summer is going, but that would be a lie and we both know i don’t engage in small talk often. ” there was a sharpness under her cheerful tone, a razor like precision to her every word that did little to conceal how increasingly irritated she got every time she tried reaching out to him. roz wasn’t a complete twat, she knew why monty saw her through a demonized lense ; in the back of her mind, she could understand how she might have gone about things poorly, how her choices to try and minimise their mutual suffering had missed the mark. still, it had been something she’d thought over hard : what she’d done, the way she’d done it? it had been to spare him, more than her. he might have had questions she hadn’t answered, but she had been the one to lie awake at night and wonder why she couldn’t bring herself  to put her trust in the idea of love. shaking her head gently as to push the thoughts away, a hand brushing dark hair back, roz arched an eyebrow at his sneer— rolled brown eyes instinctively. “ i was wondering if you’d gotten over whatever problem you have with me, reckoned it’s been long enough that you would entertain the thought of ending this ridiculous, one-sided spat you have going on. ”

     for a second, the gryffindor almost started chewing at her bottom lip, stopping herself from displaying a tell-tale sign of nervousness and straightening up in the iron chair— slowly letting her foot rock in the air. bracing herself, breathing in as subtly as she possibly could, she let her words flow with as much relaxation as she could muster. “ it was... just a break-up, monty. ”

- ̗̀ ❛  close encounters of the awkward kind. // monty.

#wizard:summerholiday88 #- ̗̀ ❛ events. // summer holidays. #- ̗̀ ❛ conversations. // monty. #- ̗̀ ❛ monty. // 001. #- ̗̀ ❛ close encounters of the awkward kind. // thread. #- ̗̀ ❛ location. // diagon alley. #- ̗̀ ❛ date. // early august 1988. #- ̗̀ ❛ i have a soft spot for secret passageways that open into silence. ❜ // writing

[roscxlinda-blog]

#- ̗̀ ❛ she is soft and totally hurtable and that’s what being wild is. ❜ // mirror #- ̗̀ ❛ i am not a woman. i am lightning and starlight. ❜ // rosalind