warning: — a v annoying individual trapped in blood purity power struggles
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' in paradise there are no stories, because there are no journeys. it's loss and regret and misery and yearning that drive the story forward, along its twisted road. ' — atwood
Hogwarts — Dec 1943
"I'll be supporting you from the crowds. You know I can't handle too much," she waved her hands in emphasis, "Social pressure."
"Twy, rehearsals would've been so much more enjoyable if you were around." Casimir crossed his arms as the group waded down the Hogwarts' corridors, engulfed in idle chat.
"Hey! I'm there half the time. How insulting." Thierry scoffed beside the pair.
"Well, you're constantly behind the stage, preparing the bloody props we encounter. There is nothing to do during breaks, scenes I have no lines in, the intervals..."
"You say that as if Lestari isn't around every practice. Can you believe this guy, Star?" Twyla nudged her friend as they crossed the courtyard. They spun around at the absent response.
"Star?"
The girl lifted her head at the call of her name, rather startled. She brushed the hair out of her face to see who it was, so concerned. She furrowed her brows at the sight of her friends watching her impatiently, the shadow suddenly created by the large red curtains behind them cast over their faces.
"It's showtime, come on! Beery is waiting for you to the left of the hall." Thierry clasped her shoulder, shaking her vigorously, "Don't tell me you have stage fright the moment before you step onto stage!"
"—You, what? The play is starting now? The crowds— they're already out there??" She rubbed a palm to her forehead.
There was the rustle of the costume rails, the chatter of rehearsing actors and commands of the backstage crew whirling around the girl from multiple directions of which she couldn't place. Her conscious was bombarded with clinks of hangers, the prattle of incoherent voices and the Goldstein heir's countenance was sharper and more vibrant than she recalled. Quickly stepping back she inquired, "The chamber with all those portraits?"
At the boy's nod of confirmation, she strode away from the lead actor, Casimir, dressed head to toe within a knight's armour, and Thierry, who adorned a black robe and was toying with a fray of rope in his hand.
Lestari slipped out from behind the red curtain, sauntering off the side door and down a couple stairs before facing a girl crouched on the floor — Professor Beery was pacing beside her, likely having ran out methods to reassure her.
