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Svensson, Alva Virva
, PB: Clemence Poesy
|ALVA VIRVA SVENSSON
i think you think you've caught me
Member No.: 207
Joined: 4-August 11
(ALVA VIRVA SVENSSON)
But God put a song on my palm that you can't read - I'll be embalmed with it long before you'll see. - Yoni Wolf
Legal Name || Svensson, Alva Virva.
Preferred Name(s) || Alva.
Birth Date|| 1/22/89
Gender||_x_ Female __ Male
Academic Interests ||
- Creative writingCareer Interest || Writing fiction.
Do you intend to apply for need-based financial aid? || _x_Yes __No
Do you intend to apply for merit-based scholarships?|| _x_Yes __No
Do you intend to be a full-time student?|| _x_Yes __No
Do you intend to enroll in a degree program your first year? ||
Do you intend to live in college housing?|| _x_Yes __No
Major: Creative Writing
Intended Date of Graduation: 06/2014
Citizenship Status || Student visa.
Non- US Citizenship || Swedish citizen.
Years Lived in the US || One (her freshman year of college).
Birthplace || Pajala, Sweden.
First Language || Swedish.
Primary language spoken at home || Swedish.
Are you proficient in any other languages? __ No _x_ Yes || Fluent in English, every-day French.
Marital Status: Single.
Are you Hispanic/Latino? _x_ No __ Yes || from where?
Regardless of you answer to the prior question, please indicate how you identify yourself (Check all that apply) ||
__ American Indian or Alaska Native
__ Asian (Including Indian subcontinent and Philippines)
__ Black or African American (including African and Caribbean)
__ Native Hawaiian or Other Pacific Islander
_x_ White (including Middle Eastern)
Answers may be written in either third or first person. In 200-300 words describe which person, dead or alive, you would spent a day with and what you would do.||
Swedish author Hjalmar S÷derberg. Not only was he one of the most important stylists in Scandinavian literature but he also dealt with some difficult and philosophically relevant questions. In a time when morals were fixed and discussion of values was frowned upon, he dared to ask questions about the many grey nuances of love, lust and murder. He is one of the few interesting people I don't now that I think I would actually have a conversation with rather than just listen to.
Actually, I think the one I would rather meet is one of his characters, Doctor Glas, although I've always seen him as a fictional version of the author. That's what a well written character should feel like; inseparable from the original source, his voice aligned with that of his creator. We would walk, I think, because there's nothing like a good stroll in a changing scenery to keep a conversation flowing to new places. Also, I think styrofoam coffee cups would amuse him.
Answers may be written in either third or first person.Tell us about yourself.||
QUIET - PRIVATE - WATCHERDescribe how your background has influenced who you are||
Since arriving at Dane, Alva has learned a few things about herself, the most important being that she is not only quiet but unusually so by American standards. A lot of people write her off as shy because she isn't the loudest of girls. She isn't a timid girl as such - Alva just keeps her opinions and thoughts close to her skin, preferring to observe rather than be the center of attention. Swedish social codes are quite different from American and although she was considered quiet there as well, it wasn't to the same extent. In fact, Alva had started to come out of her shell in high school, becoming more vocal and taking up more social space. The fact that she is still considered strangely quiet is one of the many things Alva has had to adapt to since moving to the US. She has still become more open since arriving in D.C., partly as she has matured and is more sure of herself but also as a strategy for social survival.
At the same time, it is important to know that Alva isn't bugged by her own reclusiveness. A lot of people who are truly shy wish they were more outgoing and try as hard as they can to be more social and more vocal. Alva is, as we now know, more private than shy and would therefore be quite happy with remaining in the outskirts of social circuits. She's not discontent with this, although it turned out to be next to impossible to make friends at Dane without changing a little. She once heard someone say that it's good for a writer to feel out of place - it keeps them alert and their eyes open. Alva cannot only relate to that idea but it appeals to her.
IMAGINATIVE - EMOTIONAL - SENSITIVE
Every social circle has a quiet, quirky girl and Alva plays the part perfectly - well, almost perfectly. She has her flaws and can be very down to earth when she needs to be but for the most part people think of her as up in the blue, floating around in her own world. It comes with the territory, being the Plathesque girl with writing aspirations and a vivid imagination. It's not wholly without merit. Alva has always had a tendency to let her mind run away with her. It has its perks; she is able to appreciate the smaller things in life because she sees the magic in them. A grove of trees can be a mystery and the morning walk home after a night working the bar can be more than throbbing feet in heels and the makings of a hang over; it can be the perfect time to watch the sun rise.
The main benefit of having such an overactive imagination is the many ways in which Alva can channel it. She is obssessed with translating the images and ideas in her head into something tangible. More often than not she does it in words - fiction, essays, poems, lyrics. Sometimes, however, the idea of words seems to literal for her and she'll turn to visual arts, dancing or sometimes music. Not exactly proficient in either, Alva sees it as more of an outlet or an informal sort of exploration of a subject before she writes about it. She grew up in a creatively free family where every possible form of art was encouraged. While she's always known that writing is her forte and main passion, she doesn't shy away from using all possible means in order to communicate what's going on inside. She might shy away from sharing these efforts but she keeps at it, seeing it as a need on the same level as food or sleep.
Of course, her tendency to project emotions into every aspect of life has its cons. Alva is also an extremely sensitive person and things that pass most people by without leaving a trace affects her intimately. She can feel elated and alive by the smallest of things but also depressive and pessimistic beyond what is called for. This obviously makes personal relationships very difficult for her to maintain. Most of the time, someone will make a joke or say something in passing and think no more of it. With Alva, it not only sticks but spreads. Because she tends not to speak her mind when she is offended, the bad blood can simmer for quite a while before it explodes and a lot of the time she prefers to simply walk away rather than dealing with the problem, leaving others to wonder what actually happened.
PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE - MISTAKENLY MANIPULATIVE
When angry or cornered, Alva shows off some of her less pleasant qualities. Because she spends a lot of time watching rather than acting, she is good at reading people and finding out what buttons to push. This makes for rather manipulative tools of vindication. Alva doesn't like to admit her own failures and weaknesses and the passive aggressive side she displays in arguments is a product of the desire never to be wrong once she's formed an opinion. She'll twist your words around and become the epitone of a guilty conscience, making people feel like it's their fault rather than her own. Alva doesn't take pride in it, as opposed to a lot of other people who have the same manipulative streak. When she does it it's rarely on purpose but afterwards she'll be painfully aware of the fact that she might have used her silence or a few small words in a way that was just as harmful as a slap in the face. She can be quite vindictive and once a grudge is formed she will hold onto it. Her relationship with Moore is perhaps the most prominent example of this.
On the other hand, when things are good it's almost as if she's on drugs and if you get past the invisible line between the people that are accepted and the people that really matter, chances are she'll make you feel that way too. Alva has a way of making people feel good about themselves when they're on her good side. Just don't be too sure she'll stick around for long - Alva is a true Aquarius. It isn't that she isn't a loyal person, her attention is just easily swayed by new people. One minute she'll be completely absorbed by a fling and the next she'll direct all of her attention towards a new friend. This, paired with her reserved ways, makes it unusual for Alva to form truly close relationships to people. Most people don't realize this because of her quiet nature and once they do feel the interest swaying they might be offended by it.
DISCIPLINED - LOYAL
There are a few big exceptions to her fleeting attention - the people that have gotten under her skin. This is mostly family members - Alva would do (and has done) just about anything for her brothers and parents. She is especially close to her brother Elis, who she lived with during high school and who has been having problems with money for the last six years. A few of her friends from Sweden can also be counted into this group - the best clue is to look for the ones she sends handwritten letters to every once in a while. Very few, if any, people at Dane have so far managed to make such a mark on Alva but there are one or two who would be prime candidates.
As most of the students at Dane, Alva is a hard worker. Her head might be up in the sky but her feet are firmly planted on the ground. Her upbringing has led her to keep a practical perspective even on those high flying clouds. She knows that her parents, especially her mother, have high expectations and she wants to live up to them. Alva has no illusions about the work required to reach her goals and is prepared to do it. When she decided, at the ripe age of thirteen, that she would not stay in Pajala she laid out a plan that eventually took her all the way to Washington DC. When she needed more money than the financial aid she received, she bit the bullet and took a job she despised in order to make ends meet. Some might call it a morally grey area but for Alva sees it dealing with the consequences of life.
At the same time, Alva likes living life slowly. She's not the one to keep a thousand things one her plate just for the sake of it. You wouldn't know this from looking at her life, of course - rigorous school work, constant writing projects, dance classes when she can, working nights. Alva follows her passions to where they take her, even if this means a hectic life. However, there is always a part of her that longs for the quiet forests she grew up in.
With her pale skin and light blonde hair, Alva looks like an incarnation of her birth place. She was born in the dead of winter and in the heart of the deep, Swedish North. Her mother, Aili, was a beautiful woman of Sami heritage with high cheekbones and strangely lined eyes. Her father, Didrik, looked like an incarnation of the old Vikings, tall and squarely muscular with strawberry blonde hair. They were both born in the north but met in their early twenties in Stockholm. Aili had left her family home for the capitol to pursue her dream of being a writer. From an early age she had showed a lot of promise and after high school she moved south, working the grave yard shift at a news paper and taking the occasional waitressing job in order to make ends meet. Didrik, on the other hand, came from a family of Laestadians, members of a strict Lutheran church who frowned upon everything that could be labeled as worldly. His parents were not pleased when he told them that he wished to study in Stockholm but begrudgingly agreed as they couldn't very well stop him. One night while some friends from his psychology class, Didrik found himself being waited on by a blonde woman with strangely lined eyes and a prominent dialect similar to his own. Not long after that they were spending more time together than not.
Life in the big city was lonely and strange for someone who had grown up in a small town where almost everyone you met were related to you in some way or another. Both Didrik and Aili, while enjoying the new found freedom felt at odds. Aili realized that while she met people who might help her in her career, she had less time to write than she wanted to. Still, they stayed in Stockholm for another five years while Didrik finished his master's. Meanwhile, Aili worked on what would become her debut novel as well as her big break. It was published shortly after the birth of their first son, Gustav, and was an immediate success. Not only did it land the family a sizable check but also lead to Aili receiving funding in order to spend more time writing. When Didrik received his license and was offered a placement as a doctoral candidate, they relocated back north in Luleň near Didrik's birth place. By this time, he was estranged from his family who rejected his worldly ways. During the next few years, Aili kept writing and Didrik combined working on his dissertation with shifts at a local clinic for depression. They had two more sons, Elis and Alexis, one closely after the other. Shortly after this, they bought some land close to Aili's family where Aili could take care of the children and write. Didrik still worked in Luleň and spent most weekday nights there but made sure to come out to his family on weekends. And then, one January morning, Alva was born.
Growing up, Alva and her siblings were instilled with a sense of pride of their heritage. Aili made sure that they spent time with their Sami relatives who still lead a traditional life, breeding reindeer. She would tell them the old stories she herself had heard as a child. At the same time, they had next to no contact with their father's family, even though they lived only a few hours away. It was also a creatively free environment - the children were encouraged to express themselves. For Aili it was a given - she had always been creative herself and believed that everyone had it in them, provided the right environment. Didrik. who was't always so good at separating his children from his research and his patients, saw creative outlets as a good way to prevent teenage drama. This helped Alva develop her writing at an early age and become more sure of her ability through the encourgament of her parents. Two of her brothers, Elis and Alexis, also chose creative career paths later in life (painting and journalism, respectively) and were supported by their parents the entire way.
Both parents worked a lot. Didrik spent his weeks in away during most of Alva's childhood and as she grew older he started travelling more, conducting research on cognitive and emotional development in adolecense in other countries. Aili, while she did take good care of the kids, worked a lot and was visibly annoyed when she was disturbed in the middle of a good flow. As a result, Alva was partly raised by her older brothers. She tagged along for everything they did - be it hiking, fishing or building tree houses. They teased her a great deal for being a girl but they always stood up for her and took pride in teaching her everything they knew. There was a competitive spirit between the siblings, making Alva more eager to prove herself to her older brothers. This is probably the key to understand her tenacity and tendency to push herself as far as she could.
At an early age, Alva realized that she did not want to stay in Pajala. Her mother would make her a part of her stories, telling them as she made them up and reading aloud from the various drafts she had going. The idea of the world that waited outside of the one that she knew appealed to Alva and while she was happy in the little bubble that was Pajala, her imagination couldn't help but run away and she couldn't wait until she could compare it to the real world.
When all of the siblings were old enough and attending school, the family moved back to Luleň full time so that they could attend a larger and better school. Both Aili and Didrik were doing well in their respective fields and could afford to keep the house in Pajala for weekends and school breaks. The transition wasn't easy. Alva had always been more quiet and reserved than her brothers and her parents were worried that she might have a problem adapting to the larger school and the strangers. Luleň was no different from most other small towns, where people know each other well and react towards outsiders. The Svenssons might not have come from far away but they were still new and as such easier targets. The siblings were teased for various reasons - if it wasn't their Laestadian and Sami roots, it was Alva's shyness or Gustav's large nose or Alexis's freckles.
Gustav and Elis, the oldest, reacted by acting out and getting into fights. Alexis and Alva, who had always been calmer, took the change quietly. Alexis was fine for the most part, always wise beyond his years and carefree. Alva took it more personally. Her classmates would giggle when she walked by and she always had a sneaking suspicion that it was her stick-like legs or her big front teeth or the boyish clothes she always wore that made them laugh. She took to writing instead, scribbling stories about the lives of the people around her. During that first year, Alva also started taking ballet classes, something she discovered she had a knack for.
It got better through middle school and junior high but Alva was still a secluded girl. She hid behind her long tresses and rarely spoke to anyone. The few people she became friends with didn't manage to make her more talkative but they got to see her good sides - the way she always did what she could to make them feel good about themselves even when there was no special reason to. Even so, she always felt out of place with them. Very few of her friends had interests that consumed them the way writing and dancing did Alva. School was easy enough - for a kid that grew up running wild with her brothers, Alva took well to sitting still in her desk and paying attention. Even so, Didrik and Aili worried about their children. While they had always been a close-knit family, the parents didn't seem to realize that once their children reached adolescense, the rules of the game changed. Fights ensued for the first time, most notably between Didrik and Elis. Didrik had believed that he would be as prepared as anyone could be for the rocky teenage years, given his occupation. Elis, as well as the other siblings, felt almost suffocated by his incessant need to talk things through and his insisting that they keep the same dynamic they had always had. It got better again as the siblings grew up and moved past their respective phases of rebellion but the rift between Elis and the parents never fully healed itself. This affected Alva particularly, as she had always felt especially close to her second oldest brother.
A few years before high school, Aili and Didrik got a first peak of just how stubborn Alva could be when she wanted something bad enough. She had always been an easy kid to deal with but when she started talking about attending the Royal Ballet School, a no would simply not do. They weren't too pleased with the idea of sending their baby girl off to a big city on her own at the age of sixteen but Alva kept on nagging. She even recruited her ballet teacher to come around for dinner one night, talking up the quiet girl's talent and pleading her case. It wasn't that dancing was Alva's main passion in life. Like her mother, she had always had an almost unnatural love of words and nothing could truly rival that, but she enjoyed it and it was a way for her to take her first steps out into the world.
When Elis decided to move down south the summer before Alva entered her last year of junior high school, Aili and Didrik softened to the idea. Aili went with her for auditions - five days of nerve wrecking classes and constantly waiting for announcements of who had advanced to the next day. Alva was nervous but took the ordeal quietly, not letting the anxiety show on the surface. When she got the news that she had been accepted, she smiled and retreated to her room where she proceeded to jump around and squeal in excitement.
It took about two months after the move to Stockholm before Alva lost touch with all but one of her old friends. Not that she mattered - for the first time, she felt at home with the people she spent her days with. She was still the quiet one but at least she had some common ground with her class mates. Almost half of them had come from other cities on order to pursue dancing and they understood that drive and passion. Alva found more room for herself in an environment that encouraged artistic inclinations and instilled discipline than in small Luleň. She came out of her shell more, perhaps not being the most talkative person but speaking up in situations where she would have found herself silent before. Her technique developed more quickly with the many classes a day and the progress she made in dance class made Alva more sure of herself socially. Elis always had friends over for dinners and parties, the kind of people Alva had longed to spend time with during the years back in Luleň - painters and writers, photographers and models; the kind of people who had more than a good salary and a nice family in mind for the future. Even though she was several years younger she felt at home in their company.
During her first year, Alva also met her first boyfriend. Ludvig was in the class above her and a promising dancer. With his decidedly pretty face and his talent, he was one of the most sought after boys in school (a position that, admittedly, wasn't that difficult to obtain considering how few boys there actually were). Alva was just as surprised as anyone when he walked by in the hallway after class, turned around and asked her if she wanted to catch a movie - so casual, so certain of himself but with a playful spark somewhere in the back of his eyes. After that first date, things seemed to settle fast. Before she knew it, Ludvig was holding her hand in the hallways, kissing her in passing in the mornings and spending nights at her and Elis's place. He fit in nicely with Elis's crowd and was always politely curious about her family and other friends without being overbearing. Alva had a sneaking suspicion that she liked his attention more than she liked him. Ludvig made her feel good about herself and was clearly in love with her. Alva still found her eyes wandering and, to her surprise, often to the other girls in class. She had never really though of herself as someone who was attracted to other people romantically, let alone sexually. For a month or so, Alva managed to convince herself that she was probably a lesbian and that she was breaking Ludvig's heart. At the same time she was decidedly attracted to him and after agonizing over it for a while she realized that the answer was just as simple and it was obvious - she was bisexual; no more and no less. She dated Ludvig for another six months after that, clocking in at about a year before they called it a day when he left school early to work for a company in France.
After Ludvig left, Alva found herself feeling more depressive than ever before. She might not have been head over heels for him but he was a solid rock to lean on when things got tough. She missed her family and their home terribly, even though she was living with Elis. He was having problems of his own; he had come down south to try to make it as a painter, thinking that it would be easier in a larger city. He had talent, no doubt, but it was still a hard life and he started staying out longer, partying away what money he made. Alva, ever the loyal little sister, did her best to cover for him with their parents. Aili and Didrik may be great people but they expected a lot from their children and when something went wrong they were not always the best at handling it. Used to seeing every problem through a big microscope, Didrik was prone to pressure his children into dealing with things openly when they would rather not. Not talking about it and taking care of it yourself was not an option unless you kept it completely to yourself.
As an artist, Elis also found it hard to live in the shadow of his mother. Aili had risen to prominence not only within the Scandinavian literary community. By now, her books were being translated into several different languages and she often came down to Stockholm to meet with publishers. She'd bring Alva along whenever possible, which helped her to get some of her short stories published. While Alva liked having her mother around, Elis struggled with living up to her reputation. It didn't exactly help that Aili had high hopes for him or that his girlfriend of two years, Maj, was starting to break through as a freelance photographer. He didn't like to admit it, but Alva could tell that he found it difficult to deal with her success when his own career was stuck in one big roundabout. It also didn't help that she kept asking to meet the famous Aili Svensson. Elis would sour visibly and shrug, telling her that it wasn't a good idea. They eventually broke up and Elis dedicated a week to mourning the end of their relationship with the help of whiskey. He didn't bring other girls around for more than a night or two after that.
School also took its toll. In order to get the full credit she needed to apply to university, Alva studied harder than most of her classmates whose aspirations did not reach into the academic realm. Her days and nights were spent sweating in studios, slaving over home work and trying to get enough time left to channel her feelings and thoughts into words. Ever so private, Alva refused to admit to any kind of failure and if anything worked even harder, determined to show that she wasn't some shy little girl who couldn't take care of herself. She emerged from high school thinner and more worn than ever but with new plans and more resilience than before.
During her second year of high school, Alva started looking at foreign colleges. She knew she wanted to go abroad but didn't want to settle for anything less than the best, so she started gathering her letters of recommendation and looking around early. Dane caught her attention as it hosted one of the most prestigious creative writing programs in the world. She applied for a scholarship with the Swedish-American Association and received help with her application. When they heard that she had her sights set on Dane, the review board told her not to hold her breath. Alva smiled, nodded, and kept on going.
When she got the acceptance letter, Alva knew that it was mostly because of factors she couldn't control - her mother's work, her father's research and her Sami heritage were crucial in getting her in. Of course, it didn't hurt that she herself had been published or that she had displayed other talents and an iron-clad work ethic during her time at the Royal Ballet School but Alva still went to Dane with a sense of having something to prove. The first semester was difficult - Alva's personality doesn't exactly blend in well in an American setting and her slight accent, though hardly noticeable, made her even more reluctant to speak up.
The first few months she was mostly lonely and lost, wondering why she was there at all. To top it off, the financial aid she had been counting on wasn't enough to make ends meet. That was when Moore stepped in - sleek, silver-tongued Moore who could sweet talk his way into and out of anything. They had barely spoken before he offered her some work. Alva was repulsed at the idea at first and flatly turned him down. However, Elis was doing worse. While both Gustav and Alexis were doing fine in their respective fields - Gustav following in his father's footsteps and Alexis starting out as a journalist - Elis had yet to get catch a break. Instead he caught a taste for something a little bit more expensive and illegal than the affection for alcohol he had developed during the years he and Alva had lived together in Stockholm. He didn't like admitting it to anyone in the family but if there was someone who could understand and support him, it was Alva. When she realized just how bad things were financially, she started sending him some money. Little at first and then more and more. It came to the point where she could just get by herself and after much debating over the issue, Alva decided to take Moore up on his offer.
Moore's circle was hardly something that appealed to someone like Alva. She'd never been much of a party girl herself, too caught up with her training and her words, and the blatant debaucery of Moore's crowd did little to warm her up to the idea. It was far from the boozy but warm crowd Elis had hung out with during her high school years - the fights were violent and the people more often than not revolting. The money was good, though, so she kept going. It helped thinking about it as a social experiment, just another way of getting into the minds of other people and find more fodder for fiction. It also helped accepting some of the many drinks she was offered every working night. After a few months of serving drinks, Moore suggested that she use her physical talents for some extra tips. By then, Alva was desensitized enough to the job that she let herself be manipulated into adding stripping to her resume.
As sophomore year comes rolling in, Alva is realizing that Elis's situation isn't about to improve. She can't give up her night job just yet but at the same time she's not sure where the road ends. She's seen the way some of the girls she works with disappear off with seemingly random guys, she's heard the stories and she can't shake the feeling that Moore will be approaching her about another "promotion" soon. Even more so, Alva's not sure of where she would draw the line. For the most part she likes her life at Dane but it has also been confusing. She's both felt and seen herself change, pushing the boundaries of what she thought was right further and further.
She shouldn't have been surprised at Bellatrix's reaction and in truth, Andromeda wasn't. Even so, it hurt, somewhere beneath all that logic and all of those predictions. She cleared her throat, putting her books and her bag down on the bed next to Bellatrix's. A quick look around - Madame Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen. Andromeda knew she should go look for the nurse herself but for some reason she remained by her sisters bed. She stuck her hands into the pockets of her robe, the right one brushing against the forgotten ball of rolled up parchment Flitwick had handed her. She clutched it with her fingers. The dry sensation made her stomach fall into place again - possibly only by her imagination but even so, it helped.
"Are you alright?" It was a stupid question. Bellatrix was obviously in pain, her face wrinkled up in something akin to half-suppressed agony. And even if she was, Bella would never admit it - especially not to Andromeda. It just wasn't in her. "Nevermind," Andromeda added in a murmur, positive that Bellatrix wouldn't hear it or perhaps just ignore it and go off on one of her tirades. "Do you want me to get Madame Pomfrey?"
At Bellatrix's question as to what she was doing there, Andromeda faltered for a second. She wasn't about to tell Bella about her troubles with sleeping - it would give her sister some sick sort of satisfaction, she was sure. But the way Bella had automatically assumed that everything was about her irked Andromeda to no end - as if there wasn't an entire world without the black-haired girl lying before her, as if Andromeda's life consisted of nothing other than waiting around for the sister who wanted nothing to do with her. She opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the sound of Madame Pomfrey's heals across the shining marble floor. The sharp clicking reminded her of the way their mother would drum her fingers against the table while listening with an air of disapproval to the futile excuses they used to make when they were little and Bella insisted on dragging Andromeda into trouble.
"Miss Black!" the woman called in surprise, obviously indicating Andy. Andromeda tried for a weak smile, mostly out of habit. Madame Pomfrey made her way over to them, clucking with her tongue, a small frown between her eyebrows as she looked down at Bellatrix. "How are we doing, young lady?"
"I, uh, there was an incident in class," she said lamely, handing the note Flitwick had written to the nurse. Andromeda watched closely as Madame Pomfrey read through it quickly and then gave her a small nod, her entire demeanour that of a brisk sort of efficiency.
"I keep telling them," the nurse informed her, "not to pressure you students too much. Very well, the only proper remedy to sleep deprivation is sleep. It's just as well, then your sister will have some company." She motioned for Andy towards the bed already occupied by her things and Andromeda obliged, not knowing what else to do. Should she have told the nurse that she'd rather spend the day putting mandrakes into new pots than a day in a bed next to her oldest sister? The idea seemed like a one way ticket to a conversation Andromeda would do just about anything to avoid. Madame Pomfrey told her to stay put while she fetched a sleeping potion.
"Thank you," Andromeda replied and then hesitated - Bella would hate her for this. "I think Bellatrix might need something too, Madame."
The nurse nodded with a small sigh. "It's like I keep telling them - those plants are not for students to --"
Her voice died as she disappeared out into the outer room. Andromeda pulled her robe off, avoiding Bellatrix's face as she did so. Leaving the rest of her uniform on, not even removing the thick socks that would undoubtedly be pulled down and tangle around her ankles, she laid down across the bed, her face turned upwards, eyes glued to the ceiling. The infirmary felt like a tomb without the talkative nurse - full of thick air and quiet, apart from the rythmic ticking of the clock on the wall above the door.
"How did you get yourself into this mess, then?"
(LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION)Name || Felicia but it's mostly Felis.
Age || 22 (dear lord I'm old)
Member Title || i think you think you've caught me
Play-by: || Clemence Poesy.
Time Zone || GMT +1.
Where did you find us?|| RPG-Directory, baby.
Years of Experience || On and off (although admittedly mostly off) since I was 17.
Other characters? || None.
Magic words || The Fall.
Anything else? ||
In my defense, that RP sample has to be at least three years old by now. And I like commas too much for my own good (but you probably already figured that out).
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