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last online Mar 28, 2024 19:12:57 GMT -7
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Nov 14, 2016 7:24:34 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Nov 14, 2016 7:24:34 GMT -7
The sound of a plate shattering echoed through the Great Hall.
Desirae was dead. And Cecelia hadn't even known. There had been no magical snapping feeling inside of her, when the Vow was broken by Desi's death. Desirae was dead, and Cecelia was expecting to feel relief, to feel happiness, to feel something. When Braelynn had died, Cece had felt hollow, but this was something different. Now she was alone. There was no one left on this earth who could claim to know Cecelia Rousseau, no one who had loved her as hard or as long as her sisters. Even her parents were...distant. They hadn't known who Cecelia was for a while now. And with Desi gone, with Desirae dead...
Cecelia's fire had been snuffed. Everything that she was had been broken in one instant, by one line in one newspaper on one day in one week of one year of one life that was not turning out anywhere near the way Cecelia had expected it to. She looked at the plate she had slammed against the floor, blinking at the shattered remnants spread around her, a halo of brokenness. She didn't know what had possessed her to break the plate, what had possessed her to move at all when she felt like she could hardly breathe because the air was so heavy, but she had done it. Now, staring at the destruction she had wrought, Cecelia knew one thing: she was Desirae's sister. She was just like her, just as angry and just as destructive and just as evil, and now, with Desi gone, Elaine would expect all of those things of her. Cecelia had thought that Desirae being gone would free her, but that was never the truth. She had just moved from one prison to another. Maybe Elaine would try to break her, or maybe try to fix her, mold her in Desirae's image, but Cecelia wasn't sure either of those things were possible. Elaine couldn't break her, because she was already broken, and she couldn't fix her, because this was the last straw; Cecelia was shattered beyond repair.
@ramsey
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last online Mar 28, 2024 19:12:57 GMT -7
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Nov 28, 2016 10:53:25 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Nov 28, 2016 10:53:25 GMT -7
Ramsey had just been entering the Great Hall for a bite to eat when she heard a plate shatter. The sound stopped her dead in her tracks as she looked around for broken pieces of the plate. She saw the spot on the floor just ahead of her where the plate had fallen, at the Gryffindor table, at the feet of... Cecelia. Remembering their last encounter, Ramsey did not hesitate another moment before she was at the brunette's side with a look of concern. Ramsey assesssed Cecelia first, looking her up and down to see if the plate had cut her anywhere. It didn't seem to, luckily, and then Ramsey met Cecelia's eyes. "Cecelia?" She asked her, the brunette's name rolling off of her tongue. "Cecelia, what is the matter?" She placed one hand on Cecelia's left arm consolingly.
@cecelia
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last online Mar 28, 2024 19:12:57 GMT -7
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Dec 3, 2016 20:07:29 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Dec 3, 2016 20:07:29 GMT -7
If there was anyone that Cecelia would have wished to see her break a plate, it was Ramsey. Ramsey, who was so caring. Ramsey, who was so kind. Ramsey, who Desirae couldn’t hurt anymore. Cecelia felt something leap inside of her, a spark of some sort. Almost…happiness? The Gryffindor felt awful, but it was not yet five minutes that she had known that Desirae was dead, and she had already found a reason to be happy about it. Cecelia turned her head to look at Ramsey, and then slowly extended her hand, showing Ramsey the headline of the Prophet. “Elle est morte, Ramsey.” Cecelia said, voice barely above a terrified whisper. “Desirae est morte.” And then, in English, if the words hadn’t sunk in the two times Cecelia had said them in French. “My sister is dead.”
@ramsey
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last online Mar 28, 2024 19:12:57 GMT -7
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Jan 12, 2017 21:54:07 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Jan 12, 2017 21:54:07 GMT -7
Seeing Cecelia in any sort of distress, Ramsey realized, was not something she liked. So her dropping the plate came as an awful shock to Ramsey. She wanted to wrap her arms around the shocked looking Cecelia but she stopped herself briefly, biting her lip as she watched the brunette. Then those words. The French words. Of course, Ramsey understood Cecelia the first time she spoke, but it didn't really set it until she said it the third time. "W - what happened?" Ramsey was at a loss for words. She didn't exactly know what to say just yet.
@cecelia
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last online Mar 28, 2024 19:12:57 GMT -7
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Jan 12, 2017 23:13:43 GMT -7
Post by Deleted on Jan 12, 2017 23:13:43 GMT -7
Seeing someone staring back at her, just as lost and helpless as she was, made Cecelia feel many things. She didn’t know what those things were since most of them were just echoes of what they were actually supposed to be, bouncing around inside her chest and ricocheting against the cage of her ribs for a few moments before actually making their way to her heart. Cecelia let out a breath when Ramsey asked her what had happened. Cecelia had stopped reading as soon as she had seen the headline, but it wasn’t hard to guess what had happened. “Someone found her. And she…she would never come alive.” Desirae would duel to the death, and that was probably what had happened. “And she paid. For what she did. To B-B-B…” Her twin’s name stuck on Cecelia’s tongue, and eventually she gave up on saying it. Ramsey would know, or she would figure it out.
@ramsey
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