Post by Deleted on Jul 11, 2018 19:22:00 GMTrudina greyback WE HAD A HOLD
[PTabbedContent] [PTab=PERSONALITY] OF THE LIGHTNING STRIKES
[/PTab={background-color:#f0f0f0;width:530px;height:290px;padding:10px;padding-top:0px;margin-top:-6px;}] [PTab=BIOGRAPHY] WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN AFRAID OF HEIGHTS It was dark in the forest of Scotland and your mother, Beatrice Willis, had found herself lost. She wasn't a talented witch, nor intelligent, as she had wandered from the spot that she'd got lost. She would have had a better chance of finding her friends if she had never left the area, but she walked too far. Fenrir Greyback picked up her scent nearby and closed in on her. At first, the encounter was kind, though his beast-like mannerisms made her question his intentions. They would soon, however, unfold. Beatrice refused him, tried to fight him off, but it was too late. He raped your mother and then hid her away in his makeshift home, keeping her there until she gave birth to you. He named you Rudina Helle Greyback; your mother had no say in the name. He gave her the choice of living or providing him with more children and she, strong-willed as she was, begged for death. He quickly obliged. You grew up in that shack in the woods with your father. As a baby and child, he had some of his, few as they were, friends watch after you with their own children, dumping you off at their manors - most of them were Purebloods, though they were the not-at-all-good sort who praised the elitist way. You mostly didn't see your father, really. You were tossed around between the homes of sophisticated families, taken care of by their nanny's and growing up with some of the other children. When you got to the age of seven, you lashed out on your father for not taking better care of you. He began staying home more with you, but his adventures never ceased. Feeling wanted was something you never felt as a child. You never felt loved or cared for, you simply felt like a burden. It was at the age of nine that you tried to run away, and that was when your father told you about killing your mother, about how it was your duty to be a faithful daughter and do as he said...or he would hurt you, too. You became distant, not understanding why you had to be put in that situation. You were scared and there were often times you wished you would die. You began begging your father to leave you in the home alone, not forcing you to go to the homes of others, and sometimes you were left behind. Those were your most cherished childhood days - the days that you could be alone. Somehow, someway, you received a Hogwarts letter. Your father was insistent that you not go to school, that you continue the path of the wolf and live in the wild, in nature, but he couldn't stop you. A professor came to make sure of that. He finally agreed to let you go to Hogwarts, with the condition that you returned each summer. You were sorted into Ravenclaw, which was spot on for you. Although you had never been taught the ways of wizards and witches, you picked up on the education very easily. You were very bright as a child and school meant everything to you. Hogwarts was your escape from your life at home. You begged professors to adopt you, to take you in so you didn't have to go back home, but there was nothing anyone could really do. Fenrir, or Fen as you called him, would have lashed out in outrage if you ever didn't come back. And so you did - back to the home in the woods, back to where he growled and snapped at you, where you battled scars both within and out. There was something about you that made other girls dislike you and you didn't know why. They called you Rude-Ina, prompting you to feel more alone than ever. The place you called your real home was beginning to feel like just another prison. The bullying you faced was harsh and plentiful, though you didn't understand why. It was when someone finally explained your father's true nature - though you knew it, just not the details - that you understood. You wished you could change your name, but Greyback was a name that no one could forget. It was a label, and you became an outcast. You became cold and calculating; you learned who walked the halls at what times, what classes they had, and adjusted your own schedule and routine to reflect that. You picked your battles - enough that you didn't land in detention consistently, but enough that they would understand you weren't one to mess with. You weren't naturally special with a wand, but your intelligence carried you and you were able to defend yourself when necessary. Herbology seemed to be your best class; you picked up on identifying plants easily and, subsequently, your skills aided you in Potions, as well. Your least favorite class was Defence Against the Dark Arts, as it seemed more people glared your way in that class than any other. Very few people were your friend despite the fact that you were a kind person. They misjudged you, though you could understand why. Those who were open-minded and didn't judge you on your father realized you were the sort of person they liked. You became confident in who you were, but also a survivalist. You had to make decisions every day that led you to be calculating, the type of person who was always observant of their surroundings and made mental escape plans - just in case. You became paranoid when it came to your father and, really, anyone around you. You liked being around the few people who enjoyed your company and gave you a chance, but you also kept your true self and feelings and struggles to yourself. You hated being vulnerable. Trust wasn't something you could just give away, so those few boys who tried to win your heart failed miserably as you kept them at a distance. They took it personally, but it was in your nature. You knew no other way. Your refusal to let anyone close made for a lonely life - but, you told yourself, it also kept you safe. You freshly graduated Hogwarts but instead of returning to the woods with your father, you became homeless. You're afraid he hunts for you, searching for your whereabouts, but you take matters into your own hands to keep yourself concealed. Deciding not to return to his home was one of the few impulsive decisions you had made, so you had no real plan for after graduation. You took a waitress job at The Hog's Head and flirt your way into tip money, though it's not enough for a real home. Those few people you do trust allow you to stay on their couch from time to time, or you stay in a room above the pub if you can afford it or there are openings in which you can slip into without the owner noticing. And although you live a not-so-great life, bouncing from room to room, it's much better than sharing a home with the man you hate. [/PTab={background-color:#f0f0f0;width:530px;height:290px;padding:10px;padding-top:0px;margin-top:-6px;}] [PTab=PLAYER] WE WERE ONE IN THE SAME
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