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Charming has a number of lonely plots looking for love. Why not take a gander and see what hijinks your character can get up to? — Kayte ( Submit your own)
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Wallace Bixby for Sloane Bixby.
...tfw your little sister makes the house team before you do.
He has touched my ankle and seen me with my hair down (not intentionally, of course!), so I'm pretty sure I already know what it feels like to be married.Helga Scamander in Helga's Boy Book
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Complete seven threads where your character displays each of the Seven Deadly Sins — Pride, Lust, Sloth, Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, and Greed!

Frida 1, Kristoffer 0
August 1st, 1890 — Diagon Alley
@Kristoffer Lestrange

There were plenty of things worse than spending the afternoon with Kristoffer. She could be dead, or her father's corpse could ascend from the pothole and strike her down on the spot. Seneca could be there for some reason, too, and the two of them could torment her to tears. See? Plenty of things.

Except, realistically, there were few things worse than being left alone with Kristoffer. It would have been easier if they were under Uncle Priam's watchful eye, or even at the Lestrange home where there was always at least one adult on her side, but her uncle and aunt had—somehow—decided that her brother was adult enough to accompany her into Diagon Alley.

He didn't seem to pleased about it, either.

"You didn't have to agree to it," she said quietly, just after he'd complained for the third time since they'd set off from Gringotts a mere two minutes ago.

[-] The following 4 users Like Frida Lestrange's post:
   Aldous Crouch, Elias Grimstone, Elladora Black, Katherine Midford

there are few beauties that compare to a ladyset
“I didn’t,” Kristoffer retorted sullenly, pulling a face. Clearly his sister hadn’t been listening to him; much like Priam and Nephele when he had attempted to protest that trotting his (least favourite? how even to choose, when they were all so terrible to him?) sister around was not on his list of things to do even in hell.

But it had fallen upon deaf ears, he had needed to go to their Gringotts vault nevertheless, and the advantage of keeping an eye on Frida was - it went without saying - an opportunity to torment her a little, so perhaps it would still be worthwhile. (And in any case, he still thought himself a better head of this orphaned branch of the family than Uncle Priam.)

“But if I have to go robe shopping with you I will stick needles through my eyes,” Kristoffer added, (though with the threat-level in his tone and his... general character... it was certainly more likely it’d be Frida’s eyes). He heaved a dramatic, world-weary sigh, despite the fact they had not yet set foot in a single shop, and then rolled his eyes at her, doubting even her basic levels of competency. “Did you even bring your letter?”

[-] The following 1 user Likes Kristoffer Lestrange's post:
   Frida Lestrange

Frida had written an agenda of everything she wished to accomplish that day, but it was now unlikely that she'd finish half of them with Kristoffer at her side. There was no way she could be measured for a new hat, nor could she imagine sitting next to Kristoffer for half an hour while the seamstress repaired the tear her cloak had sustained last winter. If she was lucky, she might pick up her books and the new Herbology and Potions supplies that had been listed in her letter. (Still, she somehow doubted that they would make it into a shop before Kristoffer stormed off leaving Frida to find her uncle in an unchaperoned panic.) He was already in a mood, and being stuck with her was unlikely to cool his temper.

"Walking away with me is nearly the same as agreeing," she snipped, keeping her voice low. Her brother often said she lacked willpower, but he was the one who hadn't been able to put his foot down with their uncle and aunt.

She only  had set funds for her shopping excursion, so she'd wrapped it in a handkerchief and placed it in her pocket alongside her letter. She'd kept it all together, just as it came, fearing that removing even the broken seal from the wrinkled parchment might allow something to go missing. She was lucky she had already gone with Hermia to get her robes tailored.

"No dress shopping. I promise," she said, her eyes scanning the storefronts in search of the supply shop that tended to blend in with its surroundings. She would need new gloves and higher-caliber earmuffs; apparently Herbology got more violent as the years went by. She pulled out the envelope and reluctantly handed it to Kristoffer.

"I have three classes to purchase supplies for. There's a new book for History of Magic, and I'll need a new quill and parchment. I also need Herbology supplies and a new cauldron for Potions class," she explained, watching Kris carefully to make sure he didn't 'accidentally' lose her letter as he held the envelope.
“And walking away from you is just as easy to do,” Kris warned her, because who cared about her reputation when she was so annoying? Let people think she had a habit of sneaking away from her chaperones, and be the next hussy plastered across Witch Weekly covers. Maybe he’d lead her into the depths of Knockturn Alley and disappear, leave her stranded there and hope she got abducted by a freak alchemist. Now there was an idea.

He continued strolling at her side, deep in contemplation and hardly listening to her boring book-list, though he’d asked. He curled his hand around Frida’s school letter without even glancing at it. “Has Seneca written to you yet to gloat?” He asked, almost friendly. He liked Seneca no better than he liked Frida, and although she hadn’t yapped about it to him yet, Kristoffer took it as a given that she - a Slytherin; had an actual backbone - would have gotten the Head Girl badge this year, and he wanted to rub it in his sister’s face.

He wouldn't dare, she tried to tell herself, although she knew very well that Kristoffer cared for her least of all their sisters wouldn't consider how her reputation would reflect on him. The Lord obviously gave her all the patience in their small family and left Kris with his raging impulses. She shut her mouth, just for the moment. If she could quicken their pace, she might finish shopping within the house. The less time spent with him the better.

Of course, Kristoffer had to open his mouth about Seneca, and the subject was not one her patience extended to. Seneca this, Seneca that—she loved her cousin as she ought to, but the constant comparisons had taken a mental toll on her. For how long would she had to defend her self-worth? Her intelligence? Hopefully it would be over the minute they debuted or were sent to Cousin Evelyn's finishing school, for that was a place where she could thrive.

"Whatever would she have to gloat about?" she said, feigning innocence, but suddenly remembered that her badge was tucked next to her shopping list in the envelope. She eyed the letter before her gaze rose to Kris' face. He would figure it out soon enough (although she'd hoped to relay the news through letters for best control over her response).

there are few beauties that compare to a ladyset
God, Frida was slow, wasn’t she? No wonder she’d gotten Hufflepuff; her brains were little better than lumpy porridge.

“Pfft, her new -” Kristoffer began with a dismissive handwave, mostly to make it seem as though he was over his failure to receive the badge owed to him previously, and that Seneca was just as stupid if she cared about it. With his other hand, he had been unfurling Frida’s letter for himself, but there was something tucked in it, and Kristoffer’s jaw lolled open as he laid his eyes upon the fêted object, that which had just been on his mind.

The badge fell out from his slackened grasp, clinking against the pavement at his feet. “- badge.” He finished flatly, falling to a halt. If he had been quicker to digest this - if he had not been frozen to the spot - he would have liked nothing better in the world than to crush it under his foot.

Whereas Kristoffer had come to a halt, Frida did the opposite. She watched the badge hit the brick pathway in front of her brother's feet, and she swooped down to snatch it before he could get his hands on it. She'd rather not have to tell Professor Darrow that her badge had been crushed before she could even wear it in any official capacity. Who knew if they gave out replacements? No, she would not allow Kristoffer to ruin it.

But there plenty of things he could ruin—namely, her afternoon. She eyed him as he stood there, mouth agape, as he tried to process the information. He, like everyone else, had assumed their cousin would receive the head girl badge; but unlike everyone else in the family, he had reason to take it personally. She remembered the summer she received her prefect badge. It was the same year he'd failed to receive the head boy badge, and his attempts to hide his disdain were... poor, to say the least.

"It's hard for you to believe, I know," she said quietly, before he could go on some tirade about how he couldn't believe it. She dropped the badge into her dress pocket and gave it a little pat. "But I suppose I've finally managed to make something of myself after six years. You should be happy I'm not a total disappointment." Yet she knew she was and always would be in his eyes.

there are few beauties that compare to a ladyset
Faster than a beggar diving for a sickle, Frida had the badge back in her grasp. If only Kristoffer could convince himself he had not seen it with his own two eyes.

Hard to believe? Im-fucking-possible. He hadn’t gotten Head Boy, even damned Seneca evidently hadn’t made Head Girl - who was the senile oaf in charge of making these decisions? And it was not even because they were going for some mudblood plebeian for the sake of being progressive: unless she wasn’t as legitimate a Lestrange as everyone assumed, Frida was also a pureblood.

“So happy for you,” Kristoffer spat, conscious of an urge to react to this news as he might have ten years ago: by stomping his feet, punching at things, yelling at the top of his lungs, rampaging -

But they were in public and he was better than that, better than Frida, better than any stupid badge: instead, he said nastily, “And how did you manage that? A few private office hours with Headmaster Black to persuade him?” Or Deputy Headmaster Darrow, maybe. Who knew. She must have been doing something sordid to tip the scales. She had gotten prefect before, but aside from that Frida’s best quality was being eminently forgettable. Ugh.
[-] The following 1 user Likes Kristoffer Lestrange's post:
   Marianne Finch

It was clear that Kristoffer was quite clearly not happy. It was one of those moments where she realized she would never be able to please him; being good and gaining accolades only angered him, and being entirely useless only proved his beliefs about her. It might have riled her to anger a year and a half ago, but Frida had become resigned to his attitude towards his sisters—and her, specifically. That didn't make it any less exhausting, though.

The exact nature of his insinuation was lost on her, but it didn't take hussy to know that he was insinuating that she'd bribed her way into her position. She shot him a nasty glance and shook her head. "No," she retorted, lifting her head a little higher. "But I never publicly humiliated anyone or displayed anything less than a perfectly pleasant attitude. You should try it for once; you may find it makes getting a job a little easier." It was impossible to resist taunting him back. She might not be perfectly clever and smart and everything he valued, but he was everything she didn't. He was mean, self-righteous, bigoted, and judgmental—nothing that vibed well with Hufflepuff house.

there are few beauties that compare to a ladyset

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