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OBLIVESCENCE
welcome to oblivescence! we are a brand spankin' new marauders' era rpg, and we're thrilled that you've discovered our cozy little corner of the internet. take a few minutes to read through the plot, look over the rules, and explore the board, and if you feel so inclined, please fill out an application! we'd love to have you. if you've got any questions, scroll down to the cbox and ask away; we're more than happy to help you out.

current news: the current time in our rpg is november, 1977. watch this space for updates and announcements.

Update: August 1st! We would like to congratulate KELLY, our new moderator! Please extend to her your warmest and fuzziest welcomes.

Update: July 20th! AN ACTIVITY CHECK HAS BEEN POSTED! We are serious about getting things going again, so please post if you plan to keep your characters. We will be doing a lot of advertising once we get the board cleaned out of all the dead stuff, and we need your help to get things going. Start plotting, threading, rekindling old flames, whatever it takes! Thank you for your dedication.

Update: May 21st! a note has been posted on the bulletin board a hogsmeade visit is coming up! find your parents christmas gifts, buy yourself some candy, or sip on a butterbeer with your special someone. click here for more details on this, and on other important site updates for the months of may and june.

APPARATE







Protego - An HP RPG

 
 

 STUCK ON FUCKING YOU
alecto g. carrow
Posted: Mar 21 2012, 01:59 AM


ELLE
Group Icon

Group: DEATH EATER
Posts: 22
Member No.: 84
Joined: 11-March 12



YOU'LL BE ON STUCK FUCKING
THIS HOOKER WHORE
alecto carrow ran down the crowded road as quickly as she could, a silver object clenched tightly in her right hand, cutting into the skin of her fingers. her feet slapped against the concrete sidewalk as she dashed toward the most appealing place she could think of. it was a gray morning, and the clouds mercilessly spilled rain down upon the muggles, witches and wizards below. her dirty blonde hair was soaking wet and stuck against the sides of her cheeks as she ran, wheezing and struggling to catch her breath. the moisture falling from the sky soaked through her thin top, which was tucked into her waterlogged blue jeans. for some reason, the young witch always preferred to dress like a muggle. for starters, she felt safe enough in her disguise to wander into any surrounding non-wizarding town. because alecto was the type to plan ahead for any sort of disaster imaginable, being prepared to flee her 'home' known as knockturn alley made her feel safe. the girl owned very few articles of clothing and what she did carry with her was wrapped up in a ball and shoved inside the bag she kept strapped to her back at all times, unless she was with a client. everything she owned was inside the black leather bag with the exception of her wand. a witch was never safe unless her wand was at her side, and with alecto being the paranoid type, even that wasn't enough security. she preferred to keep her wand in the only place she could constantly feel: her hand. a thin line of blood from her right hand trickled down her wrist and soaked into the fabric of her sleeve. the cut across each of her fingers from clutching her knife so tightly stung, but the girl didn't stop sprinting. she dashed around corners, crashed into the backs of people holding umbrellas, and jumped over the larger puddles that were collecting in the road. around her, common folk drove cars and screamed at her when she failed to wait patiently on one side of the street for her turn to cross. the girl saw nothing aside from her destination, and judging by the corner she had just sprinted around, she was finally getting close.

silent and emotionless tears began to stream down her cheeks, blending in with the raindrops that crashed against her pale skin and ran down her neck. less than an hour ago, the girl had been sitting in the middle of a pathway between two buildings in knockturn alley. she was huddling under the cloak she only wore for death eater duties, when an extreme impulse hit her square in the chest. the thought collided with her so forcefully, that she remembered jumping to her feet almost immediately, like a heroin addict who had suddenly realized her last bag was gone. frantically, she began digging through the bag on her back, looking for a piece of blank parchment and anything to write with: a quill, a tube of lipstick, anything. the only thing on her mind was getting a hold of her brother, and getting him to come to where she was. alecto was a girl who suffered from the weight of her own extreme emotions. there was no gray area in her life: everything was black or white, very clear to one side or the other, and she was the most obsessive person to ever set foot on the earth. she didn't simply 'like' and 'hate' things. if she liked something, she was obsessed with it to the point at which it would consume her mind and she would think of nothing but that one single thing. if she hated something, her passion for destroying it would nest inside her brain, making it impossible to live life when it existed. unfortunately for alecto, she both loved and loathed her brother, which considering how she dealt with those sort of things, explained why she was never in her right mind. something about her was always off kilter, teetering on the edge of the cliff, unable to jump but begging for someone to push her to her death. there was no balance point inside of alecto carrow. she was always falling, and praying for a bottom that never came.

she ran her left hand across the side of the brick building that she passed, her heart beating with anticipation, and as she broke through the other end of the narrow alleyway she ran through, alecto's eyes lit up with pleasure. she could see st. mungo's hospital from where she stood, and it was a sight for her sore eyes. she remembered being just a girl, sent to spend three days under psychiatric care, and the peaceful feeling the place and brought her. it was the one place on earth she could think of to return to in order to prevent herself from sending a letter to amycus. she didn't want to see him, and there was something about this night that made her think if she did see him, she would do something terrible to him. part of her longed to be the one who severed his head from his body - the one who danced above his remains and stuck her knife into his dead body for reassurance.

another part of her longed to feel his skin rubbing against hers one more time, to hear his low moans and to dig her nails into his back again, breathing in the sound of their pleasure and the friction of their bodies, pressing into each other and begging for the forbidden.

she slowly, in a daze, walked toward the entrance of the hospital and peeled her shirt off her torso, laying it on the cement at her feet. she stared, standing in only a bra and her jeans, momentarily at the beautiful building where skilled witches and wizards fixed people. they cut them open and fixed what was broken inside their patients, and sewed them back up into a nice little package to be returned to their friends and families. alecto was aware that she had no friends and she had no true family, but the idea of being split open and mended called to her like a beautiful, promising songbird. she didn't have the will to turn around and walk away from the hospital when she knew the people inside were what she needed most. something inside of her was damaged, broken, and wrong. something inside of her was spreading like a poison that took away the control she used to have over herself. she needed someone, anyone who could, to dive inside of her and fix her from the inside out.

the thought briefly passed through her mind again; the image of amycus thrusting himself inside of her and whether that would fix what was wrong with alecto or not. she shuttered, and sat down on top of her shirt, spread on the concrete. alecto fiddled only for a moment with the knife that was clutched in her right hand, and once she found her grip on the handle, she dug the blade into the flesh of her left forearm, and sliced herself vertically, a gasp falling off her lips at the initial pain. it was a hit of the most glorious drug she had ever felt, a taste of the most delicious lover she had ever known, a drink of the most potent alcohol she could find. the knife slipped from her hand and fell to the ground beside her as she leaned backward to lay under the rain, the droplets falling into her bleeding wound and sending sharp pains up and down her body. surely someone had seen her, surely a girl slicing her arm open in the middle of the road was a good enough cause to be admitted to the hospital she lay near. that was all she wanted, wasn't it? a warm bed, a kind nurse to care for her, a warm meal and people treating her like she wasn't the twenty-three year old girl her family knew. surely, someone would help her. someone had to help her.

WORDS: 1,360. TAGGED: AMYCUS THE GREAT. NOTES: FUCKING SICK.

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