Post by Vivienne Levitski on Jul 7, 2009 19:01:30 GMT -5
B E H I N D THE M A G I C
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age
experience
J U S T YOUR W I T C H C R A F T
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gender
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Preferred house
year
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A L L THE W A N D L O R E
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dislikes
strengths
weaknesses
quirks
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H I S T O R Y OF M A G I C
family members
detailed history
Y O U R DARK S I D E
She lightly pushed the door, which removed a long and incisive groan. She stepped on the wood floor, which screeched under her weight. Through the muslin curtains, the reddish light of the sunset filtered the room, drifting on the table near the window and on the carpet. She went closer to the glass and took a look. On the deserted alley in front of the house, a kitty ran after a copper-colored leave. The image made Vivienne smile bitterly.
“He would have liked this, he adored cats” she thought
It was good being home; it was the start of the summer holiday, after Vivienne’s first year. Her sister didn’t return from Beauxbatons yet. Vivienne looked at the clock on the wall and from her calculus, she should arrive anytime soon. Her parents went to pick her up from the train station, just as they did with her the other day.
She departed the window, remembering the flowers she left on the table in the kitchen. She needed to put them in a vase, so they would not wither too quickly. Her mother always loved having a house full of flowers and plants, but sometimes the duty to water them passed to Vivienne, and she disliked that. She was never good with plants, she poured too much water, or too little and the plants were very sensitive. Her sister sometimes took care of them; she liked dusting them off, but never watered them.
She took the flowers, unfolding the lace that was keeping them together. She went in the hall hands and picked up a vase in the form of a bird, with a floral pattern on. Vivienne disliked that vase, it was burdened with too many details, but at that moment it was the only one available. She went back in the kitchen and filled it with water from the tap. After that, she went into the living-room with the vase and the flowers in her arms. She placed the vase on the black piano and arranged with delicacy the flowers in vase, prolonging a little too much the moment, sipping in their details and bright colors.
The house was too quiet. From time to time the crackles of the furniture made Vivienne halt a little. With her hand on the piano, lightly tapping her fingers against it, she departed again, heading for the backside garden of the house. She loved spending time alone in the garden her mother took care of. Now the sun was almost gone, the garden having a dark blue atmosphere, the many bushes and small trees emanating cold air.
Vivienne sat on the steps and bought her knees under her chin. She closed her eyes, taking in the small, summer breeze, taking deep breaths. Somewhere in the distance, a few lightning bugs raised and made tumbles around the flowers. Vivienne heard the front door slam lightly and the hyper voice of her sister, alongside the shuffling of her parents. She visualized her father bringing in Valerie’s trunk and her mother hanging her umbrella.
“Vivienne!” shouted Valerie in a rather whiny tone. Vivienne smiled. Yes, it was good to be home.
“He would have liked this, he adored cats” she thought
It was good being home; it was the start of the summer holiday, after Vivienne’s first year. Her sister didn’t return from Beauxbatons yet. Vivienne looked at the clock on the wall and from her calculus, she should arrive anytime soon. Her parents went to pick her up from the train station, just as they did with her the other day.
She departed the window, remembering the flowers she left on the table in the kitchen. She needed to put them in a vase, so they would not wither too quickly. Her mother always loved having a house full of flowers and plants, but sometimes the duty to water them passed to Vivienne, and she disliked that. She was never good with plants, she poured too much water, or too little and the plants were very sensitive. Her sister sometimes took care of them; she liked dusting them off, but never watered them.
She took the flowers, unfolding the lace that was keeping them together. She went in the hall hands and picked up a vase in the form of a bird, with a floral pattern on. Vivienne disliked that vase, it was burdened with too many details, but at that moment it was the only one available. She went back in the kitchen and filled it with water from the tap. After that, she went into the living-room with the vase and the flowers in her arms. She placed the vase on the black piano and arranged with delicacy the flowers in vase, prolonging a little too much the moment, sipping in their details and bright colors.
The house was too quiet. From time to time the crackles of the furniture made Vivienne halt a little. With her hand on the piano, lightly tapping her fingers against it, she departed again, heading for the backside garden of the house. She loved spending time alone in the garden her mother took care of. Now the sun was almost gone, the garden having a dark blue atmosphere, the many bushes and small trees emanating cold air.
Vivienne sat on the steps and bought her knees under her chin. She closed her eyes, taking in the small, summer breeze, taking deep breaths. Somewhere in the distance, a few lightning bugs raised and made tumbles around the flowers. Vivienne heard the front door slam lightly and the hyper voice of her sister, alongside the shuffling of her parents. She visualized her father bringing in Valerie’s trunk and her mother hanging her umbrella.
“Vivienne!” shouted Valerie in a rather whiny tone. Vivienne smiled. Yes, it was good to be home.
