Post by Gwyneviere Pendragon on Jul 18, 2012 23:46:36 GMT -5
Gwyneviere Pendragon adjusted her smooth, dark hair, ruffling the ends of her short bob to make it flatter her neck. Her fingernails, decorated as if by a muggle Bedazzler, brushed against her glittering necklace.
She straightened her red sleeveless shirt (silk and form-fitting) and ruffled her frilled black-and-red Spanish skirt. Ruffles, ruffles, ruffles!
She loved them.
With one last spin in front of the mirror, a quick glance at her makeup, and the click of her expensive stiletto heels, she gathered her bags. (Yes, despite being a witch and enchanting her belongings, she used multiple bags. After all, how else would she show them off?)
As she had already sent an owl to Morgana before the sun set a couple hours ago, Gwyneviere's long frame turned as she visualized her alma mater.
As her not-so-beloved twin had actually acquired the title of headmistress, Gwyneviere, of course, had toruin her life give her a very pleasant visit as soon as possible! It wasn't as though Morgana was more successful than her or anything; it's just that Gwyneviere had been busy socializing and making connections, that was all. For some reason, though, she had yet to find a possible husband who would actually stay with her for more than a few months... The thought made her sigh. Why were men so fickle?
She disapparated.
And apparated right into the entrance hall of a castle that seemed to be about in the right place but was clearly not her school.
"Well, that's strange," she mumbled--no, she did not mumble--muttered to herself. Her amber eyes took in the... rather dark and ancient... and... dirty?... construct. Honestly, the servants here could try using a few cleaning charms every once in awhile.
Surely, someone here would offer her hospitality, right? She set two of her bags on the floor, holding one to her chest. She didn't feel like apparating anymore tonight. She squinted down a hallway.
My, oh, my, it was dark here.
The glitter of sprinkles pecked at the ground and castille exterior.
She straightened her red sleeveless shirt (silk and form-fitting) and ruffled her frilled black-and-red Spanish skirt. Ruffles, ruffles, ruffles!
She loved them.
With one last spin in front of the mirror, a quick glance at her makeup, and the click of her expensive stiletto heels, she gathered her bags. (Yes, despite being a witch and enchanting her belongings, she used multiple bags. After all, how else would she show them off?)
As she had already sent an owl to Morgana before the sun set a couple hours ago, Gwyneviere's long frame turned as she visualized her alma mater.
As her not-so-beloved twin had actually acquired the title of headmistress, Gwyneviere, of course, had to
She disapparated.
And apparated right into the entrance hall of a castle that seemed to be about in the right place but was clearly not her school.
"Well, that's strange," she mumbled--no, she did not mumble--muttered to herself. Her amber eyes took in the... rather dark and ancient... and... dirty?... construct. Honestly, the servants here could try using a few cleaning charms every once in awhile.
Surely, someone here would offer her hospitality, right? She set two of her bags on the floor, holding one to her chest. She didn't feel like apparating anymore tonight. She squinted down a hallway.
My, oh, my, it was dark here.
The glitter of sprinkles pecked at the ground and castille exterior.