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Victorians could hire 'professional mourners' to attend their loved one's funeral. These people would partake in the procession and were not allowed to speak, just look awfully sad! — Rune


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"The Prodigal Sister" for Ophelia Devine. Faked deaths, scandal, and schemes!
Kristoffer was going to be great at this, because he was great at everything. Also his memory was greater than everyone else's, because he bet no one else had ever lost their virginity somewhere exotic like Morocco. Hell, he bet no one else had even lost their virginity. Inexperienced losers.

Kristoffer Lestrange in Shining, Shimmering Splendour


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7 Deadly Sins

Complete seven threads, one where your character displays each of the Seven Deadly Sins — Pride, Lust, Sloth, Envy, Weath, Gluttony, and Greed. Each thread should be at least ten posts, with at least three being your own. Character accounts can be combined.

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Quidditch Superstitions
#1
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May 5th, 1888 — Gryffindor Table

Pru was typically not an anxious person, but when it came to quidditch superstitions, she was a downright anxiety-riddled mess. That afternoon was the match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. The winning team would go on to the quidditch cup tournament. The entire school year had led up to this game and as the sole seeker for her team, there was a lot resting on her shoulders. She didn't want to let her teammates or housemates down. If she failed at this, surely it meant she wasn't meant to be a Holyhead Harpie post Hogwarts and then where would she be? Someone's wife? A secretary at some miserable, boring office?

She'd sat so long at the Gryffindor table that her friends had already left - having wrapped up breakfast at least a half of an hour ago, if not more. Her plate was left relatively untouched and the food had grown cold and soggy. Still, she was unable to pull herself together enough to do something productive. She nervously gnawed her fingernails into stubs and twiddled her hair into knots. It was when she fiddled with a fraying string at the edge of her quidditch robe sleeve that things began to unravel.

Literally.

It wasn't until she felt a cold draft on her forearm did she realized she'd pulled at the thread so much that she'd unraveled half of her sleeve - her elbow was nearly hanging out!

"Bloody hell!" She exclaimed loudly in horror, "What have I done?!"
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   Kristoffer Lestrange
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The quidditch game today mostly served, in Kristoffer's mind, to remind him that his team had lost their last match to Hufflepuff, and that Slytherin were thus out of the running for the quidditch cup. That meant he had no real stake in who won today's game (though wanted Ravenclaw to win, naturally), and also that he was in a really bad mood.

That was, until his eyes drifted across the emptying room and fell upon just the thing to make him feel better by making her feel worse. Prudence Browne, an abnormal specimen of a quidditch player and a young lady, with the height - and grace - of a dazed giraffe.

The beauty of Miss Browne was that Kristoffer didn't even need to try. He barely needed to put her off her game; she had clearly done so already.

He had already swung off from his spot at the Slytherin benches and sauntered slowly around the end of the tables, choosing the aisle by which he would pass nearest to her. He arrived just after her exclamation, and made absolutely no effort to quash a loud laugh at the sight of her sleeve. "By all means, don't stop there," Kris said with a smirk, sitting down on the bench directly opposite her as though he'd stopped to give her some well-meaning advice. "Keep going, and just play naked. Can't hurt your chances," he added, his gleeful look implying that was because her chances were already close to none.

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   Ophelia Devine


#3
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Pru scowled at the Slytherin boy. That was all she needed now was to be tormented by a Lestrange. As if she hadn't been thrown off enough already! And to suggest that she play naked! The impropriety of it had her turning a deep shade of crimson. Pru - despite her given name - was not a girl who could be easily scandalized. When a boy sat across from you and told you to get naked however, it wasn't exactly something she could handle with grace.

"Is that what you did? That'd explain your loss to Hufflepuff then," She shot back hotly, "I'm not sure the nurse handles broom slivers in bollocks. You might have to go home to your mother for that." If any of her friends were in earshot, they'd be even more scandalized than before. She'd said bollocks and she had meant the physical kind! Several of her classmates were so uptight that they'd likely have fainted upon hearing it.


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