some wave-swept gold drips from y o u r mouth; the HAZEL hounds move s o u t h to meet you here. sky gone a certain shade of blue, the kind that H E A V E N ' S fixin' up for you. boy, that sure-fire desire is true; raw hands heart-beating to the s m o k y view. Warm glow morning soaked in pastel tea, Arm's length, shoulders wide Looking for a fight Peace sign, getting by People, we'll be alright
the definition of “innocent” was up to interpretation when it came to rita, but she swore that she was in knockturn alley near dusk for purely innocent purposes. she had been tailing someone for an article inconspicuously when she lost track of them and decided to go window shopping instead. rita sauntered over to the nearest store where many dark, yet subjectively beautiful, artifacts faced the path. to her left someone was looking inside the window at the objects on display and she couldn’t help but have some fun with them. leaning up against the window next to them, she drawled, “shopping for a loved one?”
despite not drinking herself, tia had never been the type to hinder another’s fun. so per her duty, she kept a charming smile in place as she poured out refills and offered an ear to the drunken patrons who needed to rant. it was easy to morph into bartender hestia mode. but once it was time for her break, the tiny brunette couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief as she swiftly slipped out of the side door, emerging to some fresh air outside of the three broomsticks. with a tired yawn, tia reclined against the brick exterior, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. it wasn’t until she heard footsteps when she jumped back to alertness.
‘ – merlin ! sorry. didn’t see ya there. ’
blue was the most fitting color for the evening - for her to wear at least. the color of the sky, of calm and of the cold. maybe it was a cliche get up but she preferred it against the darker hues that loomed hogsmeade at this hour. her head was held high as she pretended - no, became a lady of highest class. it was yet another game of show don’t tell. a familiar voice crackled the wisps of air next to her. “you look dreadful hestia, but i suppose that’s a given for you.” rita said with a touch of amusement, eyeing the brunette witch.
RITA SKEETER is AN NEUTRAL in the war, even though HER official job is as A JOURNALIST. the TWENTY FIVE year old PUREBLOOD is known to be RESOURCEFUL and AMBITIOUS but also DECEITFUL and MANIPULATIVE. some might label them as THE NEFARIOUS.
sylvia skeeter, played the role of the loyal wife, loving mother, and charitable philanthropist. yet, away from prying eyes, the woman was a conceited alcoholic and gossip-monger. spending every waking moment with each other, it seemed only natural that rita was destined to become a replica of her mother.
her father was never in the picture, he had fallen out with her mother when she was six and she hasn’t heard from him since...in hindsight it was probably for the best, he wouldn’t last a day in their toxic household
both her parents were elitists but not “in your face” about it. they were strategic with whom they align themselves with.
she’s showed much promise during her time at hogwarts and displayed a natural talent for spell work. she never honed her skills however, finding herself more occupied with hearsay in the halls than any of the schoolwork she received
rita has a slight knack for understanding people (beyond the simplistic linguistic approach), she’s keenly observant. the twitch of a lip, the curl of a hand…all these emotions flash together to tell more than words ever could. she has come to realize that most people can not control their physical instincts and by picking up the patterns of their habits, she can read them ever so slightly.
she’s the residential bitch and she owns up to it. the former ravenclaw is dominant, unremitting and pitiless. not because she's a devil in human skin though, but mostly 'cause she genuinely enjoys the challenge and the crosstalk that comes from the shit she stirs.
although rita has often enough shown real interest in other people, and would even say of herself that she loves people, she never honestly cared about them on a personal level. most people are nothing more than stories to her, and she loves them like she loves her favorite books; she enjoys their company, their information, their stories, but she doesn’t care much for their well being, seeing them as nothing more than pawns in her game of chess.
she never had any genuine friendships at hogwarts and that’s followed her into adulthood. rita wouldn’t be rita without her deep self-interest and self-involvement, now would she?
she has always valued the finer things in life, an appreciation that is never more apparent than in the way she styles herself. after all, she has a reputation to uphold!!
currently working as columnist for the daily prophet and witch weekly
