Post by Cedrella Kelly on Dec 31, 2007 21:14:54 GMT -5
Or so they say.
This time, it was green with Cedrella. Though her hair was normally green, with a few silly waves that fell just above her shoulders, tonight, as she stood in front of the mirror, she had it grown far longer, down the middle of her back. Next came the curls. Loose ringlets and nice wavey curls. Tonight her hair was controlled. Tonight her almost everything was controlled. The mirror smiled at her as she did to it, and for once she was proud of the dress she wore. It was a halter-neck with a not-too-deep 'V' line (since she was only thirteen) with some magical sequin embroydered from top to the small of her waist. There, what looked like a belt, began the falling waves of fabric, sitting wonderfully well on her hips. [here]
"Oh, deary," began the large mirror as Cedrella settled the mask on her face, "pull a curl down just in front of your ear. That'll set it nicely." Chuckling, she did so, and it fell into place, a single curl not restrained.
"Thanks," said the Hufflepuff as she left the room, strapping her black heels on at the same time.
Wandering through the hall on new years eve, hardly knowing anyone other than students in her classes that she didn't talk to, Cedrella's eyes waved over the crowd of colour. There were masks that no one could have even imagined without seeing. She was either one to grab everyone's attention, or be simplistic. Tonight was a simple night for her, and having removed the glasses that were set in the mask in front of her eyes, her irises were shining a brilliant green. Through the crowd, she could see Thomas Lucre handing a girl a drink that she didn't know, and a boy she was sure was called Felix with a girl. Other than those two, and the professors, she didn't recognise anyone with a name. Perhaps it didn't help they were all wearing masks.
This girl, this green-haired Hufflepuff, wasn't one to wait for a partner to dance. As others waltzed around her on the floor, she waded into the middle, and began to dance fluidly, almost matching the music in the most unusually working way.
The night was young, and the old year was about to die.
This time, it was green with Cedrella. Though her hair was normally green, with a few silly waves that fell just above her shoulders, tonight, as she stood in front of the mirror, she had it grown far longer, down the middle of her back. Next came the curls. Loose ringlets and nice wavey curls. Tonight her hair was controlled. Tonight her almost everything was controlled. The mirror smiled at her as she did to it, and for once she was proud of the dress she wore. It was a halter-neck with a not-too-deep 'V' line (since she was only thirteen) with some magical sequin embroydered from top to the small of her waist. There, what looked like a belt, began the falling waves of fabric, sitting wonderfully well on her hips. [here]
"Oh, deary," began the large mirror as Cedrella settled the mask on her face, "pull a curl down just in front of your ear. That'll set it nicely." Chuckling, she did so, and it fell into place, a single curl not restrained.
"Thanks," said the Hufflepuff as she left the room, strapping her black heels on at the same time.
~
Wandering through the hall on new years eve, hardly knowing anyone other than students in her classes that she didn't talk to, Cedrella's eyes waved over the crowd of colour. There were masks that no one could have even imagined without seeing. She was either one to grab everyone's attention, or be simplistic. Tonight was a simple night for her, and having removed the glasses that were set in the mask in front of her eyes, her irises were shining a brilliant green. Through the crowd, she could see Thomas Lucre handing a girl a drink that she didn't know, and a boy she was sure was called Felix with a girl. Other than those two, and the professors, she didn't recognise anyone with a name. Perhaps it didn't help they were all wearing masks.
This girl, this green-haired Hufflepuff, wasn't one to wait for a partner to dance. As others waltzed around her on the floor, she waded into the middle, and began to dance fluidly, almost matching the music in the most unusually working way.
The night was young, and the old year was about to die.