she was born wild and curious. a cage is no place for someone like that.
"i play with the fire of my own truth," she told me, "i will burn for the things i love." ailyn wilkes. twenty five. historian. lipstick enthusiast. neutral.
the hair she’d tied at the back of her neck was a frayed mess by noontime. it was the only sign she’d ever leave on her that she was less put together than she’d forced people to believe, that she’d bitten off more than she could chew. but she would not let her coworkers taunt her for taking any time off after the hospital attack. they already did it without the extra cannon fodder. bunch of twats. she nibbled on the already gnawed bottom of her pen with another unused one tucked behind her ear, avoiding eye contact with the flutter of movement around her desk until she heard a clacking on the marble flooring that signified the coming of a woman. one of the only other ones that was ever around her neck of the ministry. and it was one of her favorites. as soon as she opened her mouth emmeline slammed down the file she had been working on onto her desk among the leaning towers encroaching in on her. the ones the bunch of twats had laden her with the moment she had gotten back. funny how they thought she was so incompetent but came running to her as soon as they had too much work they didn’t want to do themselves.
“you had me at treat and lunch. i’m thinking mimosas. you’re thinking mimosas, right?” she didn’t wait for an answer as she grabbed her bag strap from the back of her chair and slid it back so she could stand. “going out roberts, don’t wait up,” she said, quickly rounding her desk and heading for the door, ignoring the way the man behind her stammered as his head whipped up from his own desk. “if we’re talking smack, i’m starting with him,” she added as soon as they were clear of the threshold and headed towards the main lobby of the building.
ailyn was so very glad that she hadn’t started a ministry a career all those years ago. SURE, it would have given her more stability and status, but she knew that she’d not be able to deal with all the shit emmeline had to deal with. she already admired the other a lot -- as she did with most of her female friends, really -- but the fact that she plowed through these amounts of paperwork and dealt with so many horrid colleagues? it was amazing to her. “of course i’m thinking mimosas, who do you think i am? someone who drinks plain orange juice when going out for lunch?”
ailyn was actively avoiding the topic of st mungo’s for now, knowing where emmeline had been during it. she worried about the other, yes, and was curious to hear how she was doing, sure, but it could wait. these halls were hardly the right place to discuss these kind of things. in stead of bringing it up, she just waved at emmeline’s colleague with a fake smile on her lips and linked her arm with the other’s once they’d turned the corner. “ugh, what has he done this time?,” she asked, letting out a long sigh. “i mean, besides all the obvious stuff --- breathing too loudly, being an annoying presence, etcetera.” she was quite sure that if she had to work with someone like roberts every day, she’d silencio him after three hours, at the least. “please, complain my ears off. i want to hear it all.”
sturgis sat in the same stool he often took up when at that specific bar, a little bit of consistency he liked to think as ‘taking control over my life’ and not ‘having a regular seat at a bar is a clear habit of a drunk’. he’d remain in that denial for a lot longer than what was ideal. “ definitely. “ he looked at the woman next to him with slightly glazed over eyes - he’d had far more than one stiff drink, and likely would stay in his seat for many more hours, long day of work blending with long night and soon, with long morning, full of sleep and headaches and a sick feeling in him. such was the norm. “ can you believe some people get from work to home and that’s it ? they like, watch tv or read a book and sleep. fucking boring. curse me when that happens. “ his social skills after a fw glasses never ceased to surprise him. “ what- what’s your long day like ? what do you do ? NO, no, let me guess. “ he took a sip before dropping his glass somewhat ungracefully back on the counter, face focused really intensively on her. “ you’re an unspeakable. wait, wait - i’ve seen you at the prophet, right ? you don’t work there. i’ve… yeah. “
the other was clearly more inebriated than she was. ailyn’s tolerance was high, as was her self control, and she wasn’t the biggest fan of getting drunk in the first place ( it always triggered memories of her dad, and she’d feel incredibly gross the day after because of it ). she didn’t it too much, though ---- she recognised him as sturgis, after all, and she knew he was a good guy. there weren’t many of those, these days. “that’s a terrible way to live! i mean, i love my job, and everything, but for my job to become my entire life? i’d never want such a thing.” she shivered, dramatically. “i’ll bring you to the psych ward at st. mungo’s if that were to ever happen, promise.” ailyn took a sip from her drink, laughing a little as he tried to figure out her job by looking at her intensely. “i wish i had the skill to be an unspeakable.” she’d still not choose to do that job if she had the skill, but still. “i kind of work for the prophet, i guess? i write background articles, sometimes. i’m a historian --- my own boss, and all.” a pause. “and you’re one hell of a reporter.”
lazily lounging on the midnight blue sofa opposite her friend’s marlene gazes up at ailyn, studying her movements throughout the room as she takes another sip from the glass in her hand ( vodka on the rocks ). ❝ gossip? ❞ smirk playing on soft lips, yet another sip taken from the glass when her gaze is diverted to the ceiling. voice humming along to the tune playing briefly as thoughts carefully touch on sirius’ hands exploring her body. the smirk currently on her lips turning into a soft smile momentarily before she waves away the thought. but the telling warmth that spreads through her limbs a tell-tale sign, should the other have known of it. ❝ my life is hardly much more interesting than yours, A ❞ she lies, it comes easily to her now even if they tasted sour on her tongue. this was breaking age old loyalty that had been forged when they were children. ❝ there’s the flint situation and then there’s the other trail of handsome suitors that follow me around. other than that? not much gossip worthy. ❞
“bullshit.” ailyn sits up a little, eyes narrowing. she has caught the slight smile on marlene’s lips. she can read body language quite well, thanks to her parents, whose lies were easily spotted by everything they didn’t say, but did in stead, and she’s not planning on letting it go. she doesn’t speak for a moment, though, in stead pours herself another drink, eyes flashing to marlene every now and then. “come on, mckinnon, you don’t look the way you do without having loads of gossip to share.” she takes a sip from her glass, leans back onto the sofa, a grin appearing on her lips. “tell me about the flint situation, then. those twins are ... certainly intriguing.” mind flashes to lemon, her grin turning into more of a smile. “and these handsome suitors ... DO enlighten me. or amuse me another way, whichever you prefer. i just need some light entertainment.”
she was swaying slightly, and was glad that she had decided to take off her heels a few moments ago as she walked back into the living room. “M, i absolutely love vodka,” she spoke, letting herself fall on the sofa again. eyes fell on marlene ( @mxrlcne ) as a lazy smirk curled her lips, her intoxication clear from the way her gaze lingered. these nights she cherished most --- the ones with her girlfriends, drinking expensive bottles of liquor and chatting until dawn hit the windows. “but enough about that. tell me --- what kind of mischief have you been getting up to? there must be plenty, and i need some gossip. i’ve been working TOO MUCH.”
the thing she liked BEST about the ministry was the way her heels sounded on the floor. click-clack-click-clack. it made her feel powerful, somehow, and it wasn’t like there was much else to like about the ministry. if you asked her, the british wizarding community could use a bit of a revolution when it came to their political system, but not many had listened to her so far. their loss. at least the institution wasn’t exclusively filled with morons ( though there were a lot of them ). ailyn had plenty of friends and acquaintances who roamed the ministry halls on a daily basis, and seeing them was probably the thing she liked best after the floors. she’d just gotten out of a meeting, and was feeling a bit cranky ( if only people listened to her a little more closely! ), but as she moved towards emmeline’s ( @aceincharge ) desk, she felt at least a little lighter. “lunch. you, me, now. it’ll be my treat --- i just need to get out of here and talk smack about all the people here.”
“ugh. i cannot believe you work here every day,” said ailyn, taking a long sip of her water as she gave rita ( @queenofquills ) a look. she was, once again, endlessly glad that she had her own office ( meaning a small desk in the same room that was her bedroom ). “i mean, it’s nice and all, sharing a workplace with your colleagues, but it’s ... i don’t know. there’s a WEIRD smell.” she wrinkled her nose, laced her free arm through the one belonging to the journalist. “anyway, i’ve dropped off my article for review with your lovely chief editor and i’m ready to get out of here. how do you feel about getting some cocktails? i want to hear all the dirt you’ve been gathering.”
her workdays often consisted of a lot of lonely work. ailyn was good at being alone, though, had learned how to deal with silence a long time ago, liked it even, but still — she was human, and needed to surround herself with other humans every once in a while. that day, she needed it especially. she’d been bend over books and spiral notebooks ( she’d ditched parchment a while ago; why stick with stuffy traditions when there were better alternatives?) for days on end, most of her conversations having been with her owl. her head was spinning. she needed a conversation that was not about patterns in wars and how to break them.
and so she was sat at a bar, a glass of scotch in front of her, her shoulders still tight from all the work she’d done. she turned to the person next to her. “nothing quite like a stiff drink after a long day of work, hmm?”
[ 9:08 AM ] liam -> ailyn: not only did you rap a voicemail to me last night…. but it lasted so long that it cut you off so you called back to finish….. never do this again
[ 9:09 AM ] liam -> ailyn: you’re lovely lyn, but i’ve got to draw the line somewhere. and bad rapping is that line.
[ 11:32AM ] AILYN >> LIAM: please tell me you didn’t delete that voicemail, because that sounds amazing and i need to hear it
[ 11:32AM ] AILYN >> LIAM: also, i can’t promise anything. drunk me is irresponsible and iconic. besides, i don’t do bad rapping, because my rapping is AMAZING. you just don’t have any taste!
[ 9:02 PM ] Em -> Ailyn: If he flies out here I will sleep with him. I have morals, but not when it comes to southern accents
[ 9:04PM ] AILYN >> EM: are we talking southern accents as in american, european or british? because i have a southern accents, if we’re talking british, and i have to agree: they’re sexy.
[ 9:04PM ] AILYN >> EM: let’s hope he flies out here, then!! fingers crossed
[ 3:08 PM ] maya >> ailyn: that’s a really good way to look at it
[ 3:09 PM ] maya >> ailyn: even as the best bi i still prefer girls to guys because wow girls are goddesses
[ 3:05 PM ] AILYN → MAYA: right? i’m doing god’s work here
[ 3:05 PM ] AILYN → MAYA: i mean, that’s super understandable. my gay ass will never understand the appeal to pasty boys except for a fun time bc girls? are goddesses indeed
she LAUGHED, removing the pins from her hair and letting it fall out of the intricate bun it’d been in for the event, shaking it out and brushing a hand through it before reaching out and lacing their fingers together, squeezing tight. ❝ oh hush a, you always look mad ——— resting bitch face and all that. we should start a hashtag for that, bring awareness to the issue because LOOK i’m sure a ton of people have the same problem and like it’s a real issue you know, something like hashtag nice bitches with resting bitch face or something, no that’s horrible i’m ——— sorry. off topic. ❞ she leaned over and placed a sloppy kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek, pulling back and giggling at the purple lipstick stain she’d left. she was a little DRUNK, had more than a few glasses of champagne after the red carpet, had a tendency to get tipsy at these kinds of things, had always hated this part of being a celebrity. ❝ yeah fuck what they say. you look AMAZING, as always. i cannot believe i landed such a babe, ❞ she tugged her closer, free hand coming to cup her face, ❝ i love you. ❞
lemon spoke a few words, and ailyn found herself chuckling at her silliness --- sure, this was a problem, and something to be angry about. but not now. she was standing in an elevator now, with her gorgeous girlfriend. to waste her energy on tabloid reporters would be nothing short of a WASTE. “i do, don’t i? i cannot help it --- the world’s just sooo enraging. and we should, that’s actually a really good idea.” she got out her phone, opened her notes and ticked in a few words. “but we can do it tomorrow, or the day after that ... or the day after THAT.” ailyn wasn’t any more sober than lemon, but she often slipped into the role of being an angry drunk ( probably because she was just quick to anger in general ), but she felt herself slipping out of it. her fingers reached to her cheek to rid her skin of the stain, but she decided against it at the last moment, leaving it there. “and you look even MORE amazing. if you don’t get best dressed, i will start a riot.” she was beaming, snaked her arms around lemon and gave her a kiss on the lips. “i love you too.”
ailyn was sipping on her diet coke, eyes focused on liam mackenna’s movements on the stage. it was as if she was finding a whole new appreciation for music as she stood backstage. “he’s so good,” she said, not turning her eyes away, even though her words were directed at leo ( @leonardoflint ). “i mean, i knew he was, but he’s like, real good tonight.” ailyn let her eyes travel to the other, a wide grin on her face. “you ready, to get up there? you’d better not overshadow lem, because i’ll murder you.”
ailyn was beaming, tears burning in her eyes as she watched OMEN perform their encore. how LUCKY she was, to have a girlfriend so absolutely magnificent --- how she had ever been afraid to fall in love, to be fragile enough to get that close with someone, she couldn’t comprehend. lemon ( @lemcnisms ) was everything, and more, and once she and her twin got off the stage, she wrapped her arms around her. “you were amazing!” she squealed, kissing her on the cheek before pulling back. “sorry --- you probably want to, like, BREATHE for a second, but ... wow. i mean, i’ve seen you live before, but that really was something, lem.”
i am strong but also destructive. i’m restless and harsh and hopeless.
though i have love inside myself. it’s just that i don’t know how to use love.
AILYN WILKES is NEUTRAL in the war, even though HER official job is as A HISTORIAN the TWENTY FIVE year old PUREBLOOD is known to be INTELLIGENT and STEADFAST but also INDIFFERENT and HAUGHTY. some might label them as THE WISEACRE.
INSPO: pinboard and stats page.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: emotional and physical abuse/manipulation, (parental) alcholism.
hey gang! this is an updated intro for ailyn! i changed some of her family background and basically went back to my original setting for her.
history.
ailyn’s youth was filled with lies. her parents were skilled liars, pretenders, people who bended the truth because the truth was something nasty. her father said his business was booming, while unpaid bills kept piling up, and he kept reassuring them with alcohol on his breath and an unshaved face, that nothing was wrong, that he was fixing it all. when ailyn turned ten, he had gone bankrupt and visited the pub every day, rather than his job, and when his mother kissed him on the cheek every morning and told her kids that she loved him, she was lying, too. she smelled of others when she came home, and she was having not one, but two affairs.
and so ailyn learned that truth is a relative thing, something to bend to your own will. she learned it from her parents and continued it when she went to hogwarts, where she spoke of her father’s wonderful business and her parents happy marriage as if it was nothing but truth. she learned of their secrets before she left (and they weren’t that hard to figure out, in all truth, if you looked well — all it took was following her dad to work one day and bursting in her mother’s bedroom out of nowhere) and kept them, but added in some aspects of her own. if she had to live a lie, why not make it a good one?
besides, her family was doing a good fucking job at keeping the truth quiet: her maternal grandparents supplied enough money for them to continue living in their home, to afford the bare necessities, to make sure that ailyn and her brother would not show up at hogwarts looking like the poor kids they were without their grandparents. gotta love that classicism! :)
her parents had been supporters of tom riddle for a long time, but her father losing his riches and business, kind of made him an ... embarrassment. he still joined the death eaters, when the time came. he used his power as a death eater to steal money and get some of that money that they’d lost because of him, not bettering his reputation among other death eaters, but regaining some of his pride.
[ abuse, alcoholism tw ailyn’s dad was furious at his wife, at the world, at himself. he hated that he relied on his parents-in-law for money, hated that it was his fault, hated that his wife was fucking everyone but him. he drank too much, lashed out at his wife when intoxicated, both verbally and physically. his anger turned to his kids at times, too, but was mostly aimed at his wife end of tw’s ]
going to hogwarts was good. ailyn got to get away from home, and surround herself with others, with people who came from different places, who weren’t stuck in purist beliefs. ailyn was sorted into ravenclaw. a booksmart kid, she found herself more interested in the library and all it offered than what her classes tried to teach her. besides, ailyn found out pretty soon that she was rather bad at practical magic; she was soon behind in charms, transfiguration and DADA. she wondered if something was wrong with her wand, for a moment, wondered what was causing her to perform so poorly.
it took a while for her to accept how it was; she was brainy, not brawny. she wasn’t good at magic, but she was good at analysing texts and understanding motives and looking at things objectively and writing killer essays. ailyn kept her grades up by using her brain, planning to drop most practical subjects once she could --- who cared if she wasn’t able to tickle someone with a charm when she was one of the best in ancient runes, and was one of the only people who could impress binns? she knew where her strengths lied.
it was during these realisations, during her time away from home, that she started to step away from the purist idealisation she’d been raised with. she’d never subscribed to them much, to start with, but she hadn’t distanced herself from them, either. being away from home, surrounding herself with muggleborns, halfbloods and ‘blood traitors’, as well as her whole journey with ... being rather shit at magic made her realise how fucking stupid it was.
history was her favourite subject. sure, the subject could have been better, had there been a better teacher, but binns wasn’t the worst if you paid proper attention and actually read the material. ailyn found herself staying up late in the common room, learning about muggle history, but also delving into obscure parts of magical history.
ailyn graduated with five newts and sought out bathilda bagshot, wanting to intern under her so she, too, could become a magical historian. and she did! while she was researching with bathilda, she also worked at the ministry for a while, mostly filing away in a back corner, wanting to earn some money for herself. ailyn wasn’t planning on turning her back on her family or pureblood society, but she wanted/needed independence.
finished working with bathilda after a few years and started making a name for herself, then. she had a good name, ties to the ministry and proof that she had a good brain, and so it didn’t take long for ailyn to become known as a historian. she currently does some freelance consulting for the ministry and besides that freelances at the prophet and wwn when they need some Commentary from a Professional ( cue ailyn smiling smugly as i type this ). she mostly sticks to writing about the war, though, and has published a book at this point. besides that, she does a lot of research. SHE WORKS A LOT BC SHE LOVES HISTORY SHE’S A NERD!!
takes a very neutral position in the war, allowing her to provide objective commentary and to look at things wiht a clear head. does have her opinions, though ( mostly: voldemort is just another white dude ruining a whole country, what a surprise wow ) but shares them with a fair few.
ailyn also hasn’t distanced herself from her family publicly, nor does she publicly voice her feelings on blood purity. this is a war, and she’s not here to fight, nor to become a martyr and die. her relationship with her parents is very much strained and there’s a lot of shit there, but she knows better than to become labeled a blood traitor at this point in time. self preservative as hell.
[ emotional abuse tw it’s only been recently that ailyn has allowed herself to realise how toxic her family is, how her parents used clever, manipulative ways to influence her. still sticks with them publicly, yeah, but has cursed them out and let them know that she wants nothing to do with them if she can help it. end of tw ]
personality & rambling.
ailyn is a true neutral, powder pink lipstick lesbian who will drag your ass through the mud while speaking to you sweetly with a :) smile :). or she’s just charming and chill, depending on who you are tbh.
anyway. ailyn is very outspoken on certain topics, like racism, sexism, homophobia, etc --- she’s generally tired with the men of the world, too ( her studying history is mostly her sighing at men ).
hyperfeminine & unapologetic about it. think elle woods!!!
kind of really selfish when it comes down to it? like. ailyn is just self serving as hell. there’s exceptions, of course, and there’s room for more people to be added to that list, but still: she’s not here to be the hero, nor a martyr. she’ll save herself, and if she has the time to save you, too, she might.
loves mythology a lot, but it’s more a hobby than something she’s interested in for her career.
feminist af.
likes red wine a LOT??? will gladly drink with you and badmouth people for a whole night because? it’s fun.
her morals are a mess, so dont even ask me about it?? she’s very indifferent on the surface, and to a certain extent she really is indifferent about a lot of things, too. still, ailyn isn’t cold or heartless, either? very emotionally driven? she hardly understands her own motives and morals tbh, so neither do i!!! it’s a mess!!
