#she is incapable of 1. not passing judgement on everything and 2. passing judgement without comparing herself and others

[chaos-coming]

I fucking hate that my mom doesnt just have anxiety, she has a compulsion to make everyone around her also share that anxiety and wont stop until you are more stressed out than she is bc that comparison is how she tells herself she is managing it well

[askullinajar]

A Little Help From Your Friends (Part 5)

T/W: Suicide Mention.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Fic Info: Takes place around 2 years before the events of A Merry Little Christmas. Rating: Mature. Pairings: Lucy/Lockwood, Holly/Rani, others if you squint. Ao3 link: here

Stuck in a jar, longing to get out, longing to live again, the skull never thought there’d be a future where he wished he had just stayed dead.

But maybe all he needed was a helping hand from the people who somehow, against their better judgement, cared. A helping hand from each of them. In turn.

Part 5: Rani

“Ah, Debbie, you’re looking stunning today!”

Deborah looked up from her desk. A middle-aged police officer with dark skin, wild hair, and broad shoulders. She looked at Skully, from his bruised cheek to the red-faced McGuire who was gripping his upper-arm so he wouldn’t run. She smiled.

“Not, looking too bad yourself, Jim. Take a seat. What’s the story this time?”

“You know me, Deb,” he said, slouching in the chair as soon as McGuire released his arm.

“Wrong place, wrong time?”

“Exactly.”

She flicked open the file McGuire had passed her. “And you just happened to stumble on some unconscious men?”

“Yep.”

“Any reason you were in the area?”

Skully hummed, thoughtfully. “I do remember hearing a girl scream…”

“Uh huh,” said Debbie, scribbling something down. “And you definitely did not attack these men for trying to hurt this girl?”

“I definitely did not, no.”

Debbie put down her pen and turned to face him, propping her head up on her hand. “Is this anything like the time you definitely did not assault that police officer for beating on a homeless boy?”

“Quite like that time, yes,” said Skully, inspecting his nails nonchalantly. “Nothing to do with it. Wrong place, wrong time.”

“I see,” said Debbie. She paused as McGuire, still stood guard, got something through on his radio.

“The men are awake,” he told her. “They say two people attacked them.”

Debbie frowned. “Two?”

“A man and a woman,” McGuire affirmed.

Debbie gave Skully a thoughtful look. Then she stood and grabbed her bag and coat. “Come on. Let’s go see if any of these men recognise you. McGuire.” She turned to the young officer. “Go fetch DI Malik-Munro. Tell her to meet us at the hospital in about half an hour.”

McGuire nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Debbie made sure he ran off in the right direction, then lead Skully outside towards her car. Technically, this was against protocol, Skully knew. But he figured Debbie was so used to him by now, she’d rather just get everything over with.

They arrived in only a few minutes and were lead to a ward where the four men were all handcuffed to beds, side-by-side. Good, Skully thought, that should make things much easier.

“What do we need to be cuffed for?!” the lead guy was growling to an officer. “We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Sir,” she replied, calmly, “this is just protocol until everything is sorted out.”

“It’s ridiculous is what it is!”

Over in the doorway, Debbie coughed to alert them of her presence.

The younger officer turned to her. “Ma’am, what are you–?”

“It’s alright, Daisy,” said Debbie. “I know what I’m doing.” She took Skully’s elbow and lead him into the room. “Gentlemen,” she said, “is this one of the people who attacked you?”

The men turned to Skully, their expressions turned to fury in recognition. The leader opened his mouth to speak… Then his face went slack. He frowned, confused.

“No,” he said.

Debbie frowned. “Excuse me?”

The other men shook their heads too.

“No,” the leader repeated.

“Then can you describe who attacked you?” said Debbie.

The burly man spoke up, then. “We did.”

“Excuse me?” Debbie repeated.

“We couldn’t decide,” said the wiry man, “which one of us should get the girl first.”

“So, we got into a fight,” the final man finished.

Debbie’s expression turned dark. “And this girl? Was she consenting?”

There was a pause, then, “No.”

“Tsk, tsk, gentlemen,” said Skully. “Did no one ever tell you, no means no.”

“No means no,” the men repeated, in unison.

“Daisy,” said Debbie. “Arrest these men.” Then she led Skully back out of the room.

She took him down to the café and bought them both a coffee, then she sat them both down at a table and frowned at him over her cup.

“How do you do that?” she said.

He feigned ignorance. “Do what?”

She just rolled her eyes and sipped on her coffee.

Skully sipped his too, then paused to pile some more sugar in. His powers did have their perks. Most ghosts could only fog a person’s head with Malaise or Creeping Fear, but he could freely tap into that power. Just make a person a little confused, and make them too scared to testify against him, and he could get them to say pretty much anything he wanted. Put a little more fear behind his commands, and they’d never so much as look at another girl the wrong way again. All in a day’s work.

A shadow fell over the table. Skully looked up and smiled. “Hey, Rani!”

“James,” said Rani, coldly.

“Uh oh,” said Debbie. “She’s mad at you.”

“I’ll take it from here, thanks, Deb,” said Rani, taking Skully��s arm and pulling him out of his chair. “Let’s go.”

“What did I do?!” he whined as Rani dragged him from the building.

“You know exactly what you did!” Rani scolded. “Holly’s been worried sick, not knowing where you were. And where do you turn up? By a pile of unconscious men you beat bloody!”

“Hey!” he said. “It has already been established that I am innocent!”

“And how did you get them to establish that?”

They stood by Rani’s car for a moment, glaring at each other, then Rani threw open the passenger door before rounding the car to the driver’s side. “In.”

Skully obeyed and slipped into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him.

Rani angrily shoved her key in the ignition and started the car, pulling out of the space and towards the road. “Why are you incapable of going anywhere without making a mess for yourself?”

“They were fucking rapists!” Skully cried. “I wasn’t just gonna stand by and let it happen!”

“There are other ways to go about things!”

“Sure there are,” said Skully. “Be glad I didn’t kill them. That would have stopped them for good.”

Rani went silent for a moment, and when she spoke her voice was quieter, “Have you… have you ever killed anyone?”

Skully stared out of the window. “No.”

“You paused.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did!” Rani insisted. “When? How many?”

“Look,” said Skully, “I have never hidden the fact that I wasn’t exactly the nicest guy before I died.”

“But we thought you were joking!” Rani cried. “That you just had a dark sense of humour!”

“I do have a dark sense of humour,” Skully agreed. He paused. “Okay, I can see where the confusion might come from.”

“Holy crap, you actually murdered people.” Suddenly, her eyes grew wide. “Please tell me you weren’t Jack the Ripper.”

“Christ!” he exclaimed. “I’m not some vain arsehole who kills women and brags about it!”

“What do you expect me to think?!” said Rani. “Jack can be short for James!”

“Well,” said Skully, “that was his name.”

Rani paused. “And how do you know that?”

Skully said nothing.

“Oh, my…” Rani started. “Holy… You killed him! You actually killed him, didn’t you?!”

“Okay, look,” said Skully, “Bickerstaff needed Sources. And when there weren’t enough, I made a few extra. Serial killers make the strongest ghosts!”

“How many?” said Rani. “How many people did you kill?”

Skully turned back to the window, watching the cars go by. He imagined one of them swerving towards him, crashing into the passenger side, ending it all so he wouldn’t have to continue this conversation. Then he mentally scolded himself. A crash like that would hurt Rani.

“I didn’t exactly count,” he forced out.

“And were they all murderers?” Rani asked.

Skully shrugged. “Some were old men who looked at my sisters the wrong way.”

Rani didn’t speak. He glanced back at her. Her knuckles had gone white as they squeezed the steering wheel too hard.

“I haven’t killed anyone since I got put in that stupid jar,” he added.

“Thanks!” said Rani. “That makes me feel so much better!”

“And, you know, if I brought him back Sources, Bickerstaff wouldn’t beat me.”

Rani glanced over at him. “Are you seriously trying to get sympathy right now?”

“…Maybe.” Rani just shook her head. “Don’t tell Lucy about this,” he added. “She still has a deluded idea that I’m actually a good person, deep down.”

Rani sighed. “You are a good person, Skull. A good person who’s done awful things. Because people can change, you know. You’ve changed.” She looked over at him for a second before turning back to the road. “You really haven’t killed anyone since then? And only hurt people in defence of others?”

“…Yeah.”

Rani smiled. “Well, there you go. Maybe you were a bad person once, but not anymore. And, don’t worry, I won’t tell Lucy.”

Skully returned the smile. “Thanks, Rani.”

Previous Next

[wagingwar-rp]

Welcome to Waging War, Amanda. The role of Alecto Carrow is now taken.

I fell in love with your interpretation of Alecto. You’ve made her unique and strong in her own right, Especially your details in the Boggart and personality traits section, as well as your para sample, really stood out. You’re very dedicated and I can’t wait to see your Alecto in action. I’m sure you’ll reveal her full potential in no time and wreak havoc with her once we’ve started roleplaying.  I’m glad you’ve applied and there’s nothing I can do than give her into your capable hands. Your FC change to Evan Rachel Wood has been accepted! -- Admin Sass. Please submit your blog in the next 24 hours and follow all other steps on our checklist.

OOC INFORMATION

NAME: Amanda. PRONOUNS: Her/She.  AGE: 22.  TIMEZONE: EST. ACTIVITY-LEVEL: 7 to 8. I’m finishing up my final class to get my degree, moving to a new state and hopefully starting a job. So until my class is over & I’m settled, my replies will probably be limited to what I can get done at night! But by the beginning of July I should hopefully bump to an 8-9.  TRIGGERS: removed by the admin. ANYTHING ELSE: I’m so excited to be applying with you guys because this group looks amazing. I’m hoping everything turned out alright, but the html formatting threw me a bit when filling out the application, so apologies in advance if anything is wrong! Thanks for taking the time to consider my application x.

IC INFORMATION

BASIC INFORMATION

CHARACTER YOU’RE APPLYING FOR: Alecto Carrow.  FACECLAIM: Evan Rachel Wood. REASON FOR YOUR CHOICE: I’ve written Alecto once or twice in the past, and quite honestly when I was originally drawn to this roleplay I’d been planning to apply for someone else. But when her character description was posted I swooned. I’m typically one for OC’s because it allows me inspiration but I almost immediately sat down to write. I think there is a lot of potential for her, and that’s something I’m excited to explore. 

MAGICAL TOOLS 

WAND:  Upon entering Ollivanders, Alecto tried a variety of different wands, but each seemed to send a spell ricocheting off the nearest object before something either burst into flames, or exploded. It was the fifth failure that caused her frustration, and the tenth that allowed her to believe she was broken. Each had felt horribly wrong within her grasp, wrong to the point where she cringed and set them down again before even bothering to test a spell. The outcome would be obvious.

The pattern continued until the thirteenth was finally - and almost reluctantly on the wand makers behalf - placed within her hand. The wand practically purred in delight and despite her earlier frustration, Alecto floated out of the store stocked on pure bliss.

Though it was - at least in her mind - a match made in heaven, mastery was perhaps hell. The wand demanded that she earned the right to wield it, a challenge Alecto willingly accepted. Since achieving that mastery, it satisfies her to know that it is her possession and won’t bend to anyone else’s will without a fight. Just like her. 

PATRONUS:  Though she has tried multiple times, Alecto is incapable of producing a patronus. The light that is emitted always sputters and flickers out within seconds, never taking a real form. Though it frustrates her, she’s determined. But of course the more she continues to try, the more she fails, and the more frustrated she becomes. It’s an endless, vicious cycle but her failures aren’t due to lack of effort. It’s a lack of a good, strong memory and pristine concentration. Sure, she has plenty of memories that light up some sort of spark in her heart, but none that sing to her soul. Even if there were a memory, her concentration is rubbish - interrupted by the thought of an impending future she’s not sure she wants any part of.

Had she been able to produce a patronus, it would have been a lion. Odd, considering her Hogwarts house, but horribly fitting. Protective [of those she cares for], brave [when prompted], a hunter [when desired], willing to fight, and part of a pride [something she currently lacks], Alecto is a lioness. She just needs a reason to prove it.

BOGGART: Alecto hates being vulnerable because it always seems to prompt Amycus into trying to protect her. So when Boggarts were brought into the classroom, he’d watched her like a hawk - fingers curled worriedly around his wand, ready to banish the creature within a moments notice. That needy protection had made her want to cringe. Though countless people before her in line had broken down or frozen up at the sight of their Boggart, she knew she’d be different. While others had been warranted a pass for their behavior, everyone knew her twin would swoop in to save the day. Judgement would shine in their eyes because it would only prove that a lady had no role in the impending war.

Placing herself toward the middle of the line of student, Alecto had carefully observed what those before her had witnessed and quickly made an educated guess on her own worst fears. It was why there was no shock when the doppleganger of her twin came swaggering out of the wardrobe, that confident grin smeared across his face. She’d never been victim to it - to the predatory look - but she could see why it made people want to turn tail and run the opposite direction. The phrases that rolled from his -its- tongue were exactly what she’d expected, and banishing the creature would have been easy - hardly an effort. This was a scenario she’d run over in her head countless times before because Alecto loved her family - would until her last breath - but if they ever thought they could walk all over her or throw her away without consequences, they were wrong. She’d rise stronger then before, and destroy them [and herself] in the process if that was what it took to prove herself. To prove them wrong. But the creature stayed, sneering upon her with clear disapproval. “You’ll never be anything more then a trophy wife - good for breeding. A pretty face and smart certainly - but nothing should pass your lips but a sweet ‘yes dear’ as you address your superiors. Your husband.” She had needed him to see it. Needed Amycus to understand her fears. But the creature rippled and shifted into her body on the floor - battered and bloodied - before disappearing into the wardrobe completely. Hands gripped her face gently, drawing her gaze as concern from her twin reflected back at her. He drew her from the front of the room, reassurances dripping from his lips like sweet honey. But it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

A LAYER DEEPER

PERSONALITY TRAITS:  Coquettish. It was one thing to stay within the Manor and be daddies little girl - to have things handed to you on a silver platter before you even asked for them. It was another to discover the real world didn’t function the way it did within the walls of the Carrow household. To get things you wanted, you’d be forced to get them yourself. Being one of the few females within Voldemort’s ranks, she’s come to the quick realization that relying on her brother isn’t something she can [or wants] to do - but a bit of flirtation can go a long way - particularly when people have no idea they’re being played.

Loyal. When she finds herself attached to something - whether it be a cause or a person - Alecto dedicates herself to it without question. The combined powers of Heaven and Hell could not stop her from protecting or helping those she cares for.

Enigmatic. Everyone has a mask, Alecto is just particularly good at wearing hers. While her personality is outwardly presented as something to push people away, she wants nothing more then for someone to see what lies underneath.

Stubborn. A trait paired with having a strong will. Once set on an opinion, it’s rather hard to sway her, even it it is wrong. She knows that in reality its something she’ll have to change in the future if she wants to appeal to the public eye, but until then she refuses to budge.

CONNECTIONS: Amycus Carrow. Should anything ever happen to him, Alecto would tear apart the world and still not be satisfied. They are two halves of the same whole, but she realizes that at times, she wants to be whole on her own. They’ve spent far to long relying on one another as a crutch, depending on the other to act or feel for them. She loves him, but she wants to stop being considered two for the price of one. Alone, she should be just as valuable, as should he.

Purebloods. Can we talk best friends since nappies? The friends that used to play house and pretend to be married? The friends that go shopping and gossip so brutally they could probably make someone cry? That giggle together? The friends who looks at Amycus and scoffs because he really isn’t that scary? Pft, and what about enemies? Like there has got to be some sneaky stuff going on; families trying to undermine one another, children growing up hating each other but pretending to be friends? GAH! There is literally so much you can do between pureblooded families alone [I mean hell - venture into the world beyond the U.K. and that expands like 1000%]. I think I could probably blabber on and on about how wondrous they could be before I even began to mention anyone else.

FUTURE PLOT IDEAS: Idea One: Alecto isn’t taken seriously; whether it’s within Voldemort’s army, or her own family, people her brush her off because she’s a women. She’s expected to follow orders [her father’s, Amycus, or Voldemort’s]. And it’s likely she only joined Voldemort for one of two reasons. [1] It was expected because of the whole blood purity aspect, [2] if she hadn’t, Amycus would have done so without her and she would have been left within her fathers clutches [can anyone say betrothal?]. Had it been up to her, she probably would have run off somewhere relatively safe with her brother and left the fighting up to everyone else. But it wasn’t up to her, and not joining would have left her unmemorable and unimportant. If anything, Alecto is a fighter. But I want her to take a step back and figure out if it’s what she wants, because I have a feeling no one has never genuinely asked what it is she wants, but rather they just assume they know whats best. What if she wants to travel? Have some whirlwind romance? To have a real career rather then be a housewife or socialite? To venture into the muggle world and actually see what she’s meant to be hating? I have the idea that she’s just so focused on pleasing others and proving herself that she’s hardly taken a breath to stop and figure herself out.

Idea Two: She has potential, but it’s untapped because no one has given her a real chance to prove herself yet. But that untapped potential is matched with unrelenting fury - someone just needs to teach her how to properly direct it. I can see one of two things happening, and they’re largely dependent on her interactions with other people. [1] Someone gives her a big old slap of reality. And by that I mean someone needs to somehow show her that the world is more then pureblooded royalty, and that muggles are actually okay [not that she would EVER admit that]. It would destroy everything her world was built on, and she’d come to a quick realization of why women haven’t been thrown onto the front lines before [lets be real, war would be over and done with in a day, and blood purity would probably not be a thing]. Put her on the opposite side she currently stands because she’s angry and that can be used against anyone. OR [2] Put her behind enemy lines as she tries to “reform” from her prejudice. Make her cuddle up to some muggleborns and halfbloods to do what she’s been taught - gather information and manipulate. Gain trust and destroy. 

SEXUALITY & SHIPS: Canon is cool and all, but I have and always will ship 100% for chemistry. I think it’s incredibly important for two characters [and in turn, their writers] to vibe off one another before anything becomes concrete. For that reason, I’m not going to set a sexuality because I want to leave myself open to possibilities.

That being said, I am a huge sucker for angst. Romeo/Juliet “we-cant-be-together-because-of-blahblahblah” nonsense? It is the peanut butter to my jelly. And I think contrast is beautiful so I’d loveeeee something like that. But again, chemistry all the way.

EXTRA SECTION

Alecto is actually my love, so you can find anything related to her on this mock blog. Most posts are inspo related, but anything that I’ve directly made will be tagged with wwtalk. But if you’re interested, the navi will take you to more direct posts [i.e. quotes, vanity, relationship inspo, etc].

PARA SAMPLE

Lips curled into an elegant smile, a bubble of laughter erupting as if the words from the woman she was listening to were the most intelligent and dreadfully amusing thing she’d heard all morning. Just as everything before that had been. Alecto tried -really tried- not to let it bother her. But each luncheon, or tea, or ladies gathering was slowly chipping away at her restraint. It was for the greater good. At least that’s what they told her. So she put on a dress that complimented her curves, and a dazzling smile before joining the rest of the mindless bimbos who simpered over the idea of winning a pureblooded husband with good standing. Pathetic.

That day, all it took was a singular comment to form the crack, and another backhanded remark to send her rage shattering completely. She’d struggled to conceal it, fingers twitching beneath the table, itching for her wand and instead curling painfully into the folds of her dress as one of the pureblooded women gave her a pitying look. Alecto had wanted to scream. To sneer in their faces and draw a wand because realistically they would have expected men to do the fighting; women were meant for social destruction, not the physical kind. Instead her lips had drawn into a thin-lipped smile - one that visibly unsettled several of the women present, but she’d stayed at the luncheon. She was just the victim of that gathering. It would change next time they met, it always did. But she stayed because it was what they would have wanted.

The moment her feet hit the cobblestone outside of Carrow Manor, the door swung open to reveal her house elf. The rage must have been rolling off her in waves because the creature quietly took her coat without so much as glancing up from the floor. It even went so far as to thank her for allowing it the pleasure of serving her.

She didn’t stop moving, not until the door of her room had been spelled shut and silencing charms were firmly in place. Only then did her wand draw and only then did destruction rain from the heavens. Feathers floated through the air from destroyed pillows, vases shattered, glass cracked.

How dare they shove her into a corner and ask her to play nice with the rest of the pureblooded women. How dare they require that she attend luncheons and teas to “gather pertinent information,” HA! As if it was ever anything useful. Who gave two flying hippogriffs if someone was cheating on her husband with some pool boy-esque younger pureblood? How was that helping their mission? How was gossip doing them any good?

The only reason she’d been offered entrance into their exclusive little club was because of him. Her twin. A two for one deal. “No me, not without her.” At least that’s what he claimed. But she knew better. Knew it was just some excuse to keep her close. To keep her “safe” until their father was stupid enough to marry her off to some other pureblood. But that was the point of the entire thing, wasn’t it? The luncheons, the teas? They had accepted her because of Amycus, but she was nothing more then a joke in their eyes. A joke that would be pushed aside once a betrothal began. After all, a wifes job was to produce an heir and a spare, to socialize with women of her standing and plan get togethers - not fight in a war.

Drained of any remaining fight, she sank onto her bed, head falling into her hands. The only sounds in the room were the quiet dusting of feathers as they drifted to the ground, and a small clock she’d somehow managed not to destroy.