“yes, but you’re a very pretty wedding cake.” pandora replies easily, without even a moment’s hesitation. the contrast between their two dresses is a stark one, but it honestly makes pandora feel like she’s actually having fun for the first time tonight. she tilts her head and wonders at sybill’s words, innterested in what she’s saying. “i hate to break it to you, Sib, but I’m one of the people here who doesn’t know what you’re talking about. whatever tie dye is it does sound very pretty though. a tie dyed Trelawney sounds like some kind of remarkable butterfly.” and her smile then is a bright thing, because pandora loves compliments, and soaks them up, turns toward them like a flower might turn toward the sun. “why yes, i know. I’m incredibly beautiful and incredibly precious. Perseus Selwyn told me so himself just an hour ago.”
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — sybill gasps in fake horror, though her eyes are clearly overflowing with amusement. ❝ well, now you just gave me a perfect excuse to give you a tie dyed dress. some would argue about pretty, but it is quite striking. ❞ that is quite a good description for most of the things sybill likes, after all. once her father said she was stubbornly odd, with a fond smile on his lips. she tries to remember that smile when odd starts to become too much of a burden. ❝ i would like to be a butterfly. just fly away from this city and spend my very few days surrounded by flowers. sounds like a good bargain. ❞ she drains her glass with the ease of someone accustomed to far stronger and far cheaper liquor, but grimaces at pandora’s words. ❝ well he is right, but eugh. i’d rather be hanged than listen to these holier than thou pure blood men complimenting a girl. i’m pretty sure one of the rowle boys tried to ask me for a dance before i scared him away. ❞
Regulus gives a tiny shake of his head. It’s a gesture of minute amusement, and outside the ranks of his close friends it’s something that might as well be akin to riotous laugher. He lets out a soft hum of agreement, however. The sound surprises him even as he makes it. But damn it all, he does want a cigarette. “Oh, go on.” He says in agreement, “A little less tension sounds like exactly what the doctor ordered. Though honestly, it might take a little more than a cigarette to unwind me.” He arches a brow as he takes the offered cigarette from her, fingers slipping into the pack to remove one. He lights it with a snap of his fingers, a showy bit of wandless magic. His voice, coming from lips wrapped around it as he takes a puff, is a wry thing. As bland as if he was telling her the weather. “The bacchanal is tomorrow night, actually. I’m afriad you didn’t quite make the cut. Maybe next year I’ll talk them into letting you come along.”
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — sybill can’t stop herself from giggling at the remark, choking on the smoke for a second. ❝ merlin, you sound like the sick protagonist of a victorian novel who needs to go to the sea for their ailments. ❞ truth be told, sybill has fantasised about the sea many times, her grandmother’s little cabin in cornwall, away from all wizards no matter their side. she is still not sure if staying is an act of courage or cowardice. ❝ maybe you should try opium and orgasms. top notch victorian medicine. ❞ she adds with a smile, taking a last huff of her cigarette before putting it out against the window. the ashes look striking against the perfectly polished glass. sybill knows there’s a metaphor in that, but doesn’t bother to think about it. ❝ oh, that’s a shame. they were created by a seer, did you know? the bacchanalia. sometimes i think that causing trouble is all we’re good for. ❞
Alecto had to admit the ball was more fun that she had thought it would be. She mostly disliked these things because she couldn’t stand most of the people here. But she’d been managing to avoid her mother for most of the evening, and so had avoided the many suitors her mother would find for her. She hadn’t really been intending on speaking to Sybill, but then she’d ended up next to her, and now the woman was speaking. “You really believe that horoscope shit?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she took a glass of wine too. “Really?”
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ❝ well they can’t be worse than whatever else they’re publishing in the papers nowadays. ❞ she said innocently, swirling her wine before taking a big sip. she should have probably left it at that, but unfortunately sybill was addicted to two things: bad decisions and getting a rise out of people (and, arguably, the alcohol. and the cigarettes. and... oh well, maybe not just two things). ❝ don’t worry, i wouldn’t expect a capricorn to understand the intricacies of it. ❞
listening attentively to the other witch’s words, alice responded initiating with a smile, “well, I’ve already worn this dress to two other events. i’m sure the tailors of the women in this room make them a dress for every party they attend,“ her words exuded certain dismay. "i’m sure i’ve seen one of them with a different dress at the same party,” a chuckle came out of her lips in resonse to her own comment. “i’ve always found astrology to be an inexact science, so i find it curious that there are people who got it all figured it out. but i admit it’s considerably interesting.” alice was quite sceptical of horoscopes, and that depending on what position the moon was in at the time of your birth would run your whole life, but she was still going to listen to anyone tell her everything they knew about it. “that’s why i don’t read the prophet anymore, any section. but at least the horscopes i could have a laugh with it.” despite being the most widely read newspaper, alice tried not to pay much attention to it. “how come? never say never so soon. it’s not that bad… right?”
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ❝ i like to think they have a high society rule book. never wear the same dress twice, always accept a dance from a guy that’s rich, be awful to everyone you deem to be below your station… those kinds of things. ❞ the words were bitting, but sybill maintained a playful disposition, eyes gleaming with some type of mirth. she could find enjoyment from almost anything, and right now, under classical music and red dry wine, riddle’s bunch seemed more comical than they would in daylight. ❝ oh, i don’t have anything figured out! i suppose astrology does have its rules, but i’m much more of a go with your gut person. ❞ she shrugged, thinking about the many times when her gut was completely wrong. and worse, the times when it was absolutely, perfectly right. “i don’t trust any wizard newspapers. isn’t that funny? there’s nothing of interest to me in the muggle ones and i still get more information from them than the prophet.” a shadow passed through sybill’s face, just a split second of rage before her mischievous smile took over again. “i don’t think i’ll be invited. i’m really more trouble than i’m worth.”
The sound of footsteps approaching sent Barty scrambling back against the column he was leaning against, heart rate pounding in his ears while he cautiously peered around the corner. He visibly relaxed upon realizing he wasn’t face to face with his father or someone similar.
“Oi, I know. Nasty habit and the smell,” The words escaped before the other person had the chance to say anything but Barty didn’t heed whatever warning he was expecting them to give, opting instead to take a particularly long drag from the joint that was between his fingers. “But I took the liberty of using the garden,” His words were accompanied by a lazy exhale. “Surely Walburga can appreciate my thoughtfulness instead of tainting the halls with the bloody thing.”
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — sybil knew someone was hiding around the corner. she should probably let it go and find something else to amuse herself with, as you never knew the type of character lurking around the black household… but even though she was incredibly clever, she had never been particularly wise. ❝ oh trust me, i’m not one to judge. ❞ she said lightly. ❝ i’m sure their walls are tainted with much worse. ❞ sybill skipped towards the column carelessly and extended her hand, making a grabbing motion. ❝ give me a hit and i promise not to ask why you’re hiding out here. actually no, i might still ask. but i promise not to be annoying about it. ❞
“yes,” calypso answered lazily, finding it absurd how a pureblood witch didn’t have, or was not aware of, a modiste. then she remembered that the usual circle of purebloods weren’t the only ones invited, and she had to hold back any look of judgment. thankfully, callie’s expressions were far practiced, and she smiled sweetly at the woman. “this mrs. sewingkit is a good dressmaker?” callie asked, because she has never heard of a designer dressmaker by that name. though perhaps she ought to have. at least this witch’s dress was a far upgrade from the others she’s seen in the past hour. she looked down at her own dress and beamed. “oh, thank you. i would have preferred a lovely kimono tonight, but my mother insisted i dress more… british.” she sighed before taking a sip of her drink. the drink was a bloody good one, at the very least.
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ❝ she is the very best! though a bit mercurial at times. never seems to get anything done until the last minute. ❞ sybill had spent the entire morning trying to fix a slit with embroidered lace, after all. someone with more sense would have probably given up, and an actual modiste wouldn’t have bothered in the first place, but the young witch could be incredibly stubborn when her pride was on the line. ❝ oh you should have worn that! i’m sure it would have made you the belle of the ball amongst this flock of silken birds. ❞ perhaps individuality was not as important as money, class and status for the crème de la crème of the pure bloods, but sybill had always been a slave to her whims. and she couldn’t help but appreciate when someone else followed theirs.
Regulus watches Sybill with something like slow amusement spreading in his eyes. He has to admit that the guest list of this particular ball has made the night more interesting. He wouldn’t usually find himself speaking with Sybill Trelawney. In that moment he was a little bit fascinated with her. “Ah, nothing but the finest for our esteemed guests.” He says, with a gesture toward her wine glass. “And now that you mention it, I would very nearly use some of that vast wealth to get you to harrass her, if I didn’t feel the need to make a good impression tonight.” He slips just a tiny bit closer, smile wry. “You see, mother and father are much more likely to let their sons throw as many afterparties as they please when their guests have been on their best behaviour. You got your invitation for later tonight, didn’t you Sibby? I would be heartbroken if you couldn’t make it because mother made the house elves chase you off.”
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — sybill laughs freely, tipping her head until it’s touching the wall. she notices that even the ceiling of the ballroom looks luxurious, bathed in light and shadows. or maybe she is just tipsy. ❝ well, if you need my services i’m available seven days a week. our professors did call me impossible several times, so i have a great resumé. ❞ she tips her head back, raising her eyebrows at regulus’ wry smile. ❝ i run faster than a house elf. but i pinky promise to be on my bestest behaviour tonight. ❞ sybill twirls the lit cigarette around her fingers with practised ease before taking another hit. she blows a bit of smoke in regulus’ direction before offering him the pack. ❝ want one? you could probably do with a little less tension. this is supposed to be a party after all. ❞ she doesn’t really think balls are made for fun, but no one could blame her for trying her hardest. ❝ and here i was thinking high society people had good entertainment. like... bacchanals or blood sacrifices. ❞
calypso was positively beaming in her pretty midnight blue dress that shimmered like the stars every time she moved. she absolutely loved balls, and she was absolutely thriving in this sort of environment. she had already made her rounds, gracefully greeting the hosts, then catching up with some of her friends. or, well, some she may consider valuable connections, more than anything. her fiancé had gone off to greet his own set of friends, and she was momentarily left to her own devices.
she had just been plucking a drink from a tray when another witch taking from the same tray spoke. her gaze immediately fell upon the witch’s dress, and she grimaced when she saw the stray string. “that simply won’t do. you should have a word with your modiste.” callie tutted at her disappointment before taking a sip from her drink. “not only would i sue, i’d have them return the galleons i would have spent on it.”
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — sybill couldn’t help but chuckle. ❝ my modiste? ❞ telling the witch she got that dress for five pounds in a muggle yard sale would probably earn an interesting reaction, but sybill was trying to fly under the radar that night. and she did have enough foresight to know that pure bloods were too easy to mess with if she was not careful with her tongue. ❝ oh, that’s too much trouble. I’ll just take it to mrs. sewingkit and she’ll have it looking as good as new. you really can’t trust anyone with your clothes today. ❞ she smiled cheekily, putting on just a tad of a posh accent. ❝ though your dress does look wonderful. ❞
– the lights are so pretty tonight, pandora can’t stop looking up at them. she knows it isn’t proper, but it still takes a great deal of effort to tear her eyes away. which is why she’s glad she’s standing next to sybill right now. sybill won’t judge her for getting distracted by the pretty lights, or the way the whole world seems to glimmer around them. she’s also glad its sybill, because she finds it easy to talk to her. “oh, don’t fuss.” she scolds, taking sybill’s hand and pulling it away from her dress. “you’ll tear it. and it looks so terribly lovely on you. it would be a shame if you caused a rip.” a more pointed smile, finally looking over at her friend. “or if you spilled wine on it. then i would really have to scold you.”
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ❝ i feel like a wedding cake. ❞ sybill wrinkles her nose, but drops her hand. pandora is a comforting presence, a safety net amongst all the sharks that deal in a language libby never quite learned. bluntness and whimsy are not crowd pleasers amongst the pure blood society, but despite her last name pandora never seemed bothered by it. ❝ but the colour would be so interesting! very tie dye… though i suppose half of the people here don’t know what that means. ❞ she says the last part quietly while sipping on her glass, amused at the thought of walburga black wearing a cheap tie dye shirt. after another sip, she finally turns to smile at pandora ❝ and it’s easy for you to say that! you look as beautiful in a fancy dress as a crystal in the light. ❞
even though the night had just begun, alice wasn’t feeling awful but neither brilliant. the witch wasn’t one for balls, but here she was. she shook her head from side to side, denying what the witch on her side had said. “i don’t know what i’m more surprised about, hearing someone talk about horoscope or that you don’t feel good in that dress.” alice uttered with a low voice, examining sybill from top to bottom. “because look at you, – you look splendid regardless. purple does suit you.” the blonde witch copied what sybill did, and reached for a glass of wine, raising it. “should we toast to a better dress for next time?” she enquired.
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ❝ oh! thank you! this one was quite last minute i’m afraid. ❞ sybill was sure most people waltzing around the ballroom had spent an inconceivable amount of money on their silks, jewels and feathers. it was a bit like stumbling into a kaleidoscope, the way they shined and twirled under the atmospheric lights. ❝ astrology is actually fascinating, you know. though however writes the predictions for the daily prophet should get a stern talking, they have the horrible habit of misinterpreting venus. ❞ her voice had a hint of mischievousness, and she clinked her glass into alice’s happily before taking a long sip. ❝ i’ll drink to that! though i’m not sure i’ll be attending many other fancy events in the future. amazing wine, but horribly stuffy. ❞
Place: Outskirts of the ball room
Time: Mid-party
Status: Open
His thoughts are consumed by other things tonight. Tom Riddle and his slow, slick smiles, his hand on Regulus’s shoulder when he asked a few weeks ago to borrow their house elf. The wind torn cliffside where he brought Kreature, and the condition his elf had been returned in. It made his heart bleed, which was an annoyance. It was hard to focus on anything but that, on anything but the meeting they would hold later tonight to discuss it. Still, here he is, in attendance. Playing the perfect son once again. It’s hard to put a smile on his own face, but he’s making an effort to keep up appearances. All he has to do is tell himself that the night will be short. It’s a lie, but it’s one he can live by.
“If you’ve come to tell me how nice the party is, that compliment should rightfully be passed on to my mother.” And then, just a hint quieter. “Not that I would doom anyone into conversation with her.”
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — sybill slips to a quieter corner of the ballroom with the ease of someone used to being ignored. she opens a window, hoping no one will notice, and holds her cigarette precariously, letting a bit of ash fall into the organza of her dress. her eyes track everyone, the rich fabrics and fake smiles, all playing by their own rules. high society politics really are a bore. ❝ not really, though your liquors are pretty nice. my compliments to your family’s wealth, i suppose. ❞ her smile is playful, but sybill soon abandons it in favour of drowning whatever’s left on her wine glass and perching it on the windowsill. ❝ do you truly think i would have a harder time with her than she would have with me? i’m heartbroken. ❞
☾ ˙ ˖ ✧ — the first thought sybill has when entering the glistening ballroom is that maybe she can get away with nicking a bottle of expensive wine. the second is that she can get absolutely shitfaced on said expensive wine. after all, sybill has a crippling suspicion this will be a long, dreary night (even more so than her usual long, dreary nights). ❝ you know, my horoscope warned me about unlikely enemies, but i hardly imagined it was talking about this goddamn dress. ❞ she says brightly, grabbing a glass of wine from a nearby tray and plucking a string from her purple dress.
did you hear that SYBILL TRELAWNEY will be attending the black ball during the coming weekend? they recently arrived in london for the social season and we will be excited to see if they make a splash this year. i heard that they are currently working as a WAITRESS and that they have been quite successful. they always reminded me of FADED TAROT CARDS, COLORFUL HANDKNIT GLOVES, HALF LIES HIDDEN WITHIN HALF TRUTHS and i heard that they can be CLEVER + FANCIFUL but also PRIDEFUL + SELFISH. rumor has it that they are WORKING AGAINST tom riddle, but you know that you can’t believe everything you hear. as far as i know, they are a model member of pureblood society
FULL NAME: sybill cassandra trelawney
NICKNAMES: libby, lib, that weirdo over there
AGE: 23 years old
GENDER: cis woman
PRONOUNS: she/her
SEXUALITY: bisexual
SUN SIGN: pisces
FORMER HOUSE: ravenclaw
pinterest
THE FOOL - in tarot, the fool card can be numbered either as 0 (the first) or XXII (the last), representing its unlimited potential for better or for worse. it depicts a young man on the edge of a cliff, carefully looking at the sky and unaware that he is about to fall into the unknown. the fool is associated with folly, mania, extravagance, delirium and frenzy, but when reversed it becomes a symbol for absence, carelessness, apathy, and vanity.
in mythology, the gift of sight is inextricably linked to tragedy. cassandra, cursed with the knowledge of future doom while no one believed her. laocoon, strangled and killed by giant serpents when his foresight displeased the gods. even cassandra trelawney, the most famous seer of the wizarding world, tried to run away from her destiny only to find it in a great fire if the legends are to be believed.
sybill’s story didn’t begin with tragedy. in fact, she was a perfectly normal kid. she talked a bit oddly, sure, and always seemed to know what her mother was making for lunch hours in advance, and was never able to make any friends her actual age... still, those were perfectly acceptable childhood quirks she would grow out of (or grown into). she was raised in muggle england, in a small country house near london where her mother would bake homemade pies and sing old folk songs. this is one of the only memories sybill still has of her mom, with the blonde hair shining in the sun.
amelia trelawney left the country house when sybill was barely five years old, and died a couple of years after. her husband never kept any bitterness, though sybill would occasionally catch him staring out into the darkness in their front porch, clutching a bottle of whisky. she sometimes wondered if he had seen amelia left even before the woman decided to.
hogwarts was not exactly a dream for sybill. she always felt a bit too strange to be a normal witch. she also felt a bit too normal to be a proper seer, in the way the legendary cassandra trelawney had been. she had very few friends, and the bad habit of either keeping them too close or pushing them away entirely. her grades were always perfect, but also meaningless. in the end, sybill clutched to her oddities like a lifeline. the future was much easier to deal with when they only included badly written zodiac predictions and tarot cards she could just ignore. it gave her far fewer nightmares.
as soon as she left hogwarts, sybill was left directionless, especially after her father died just a few weeks before her graduation. she was a seer with no foresight, and certainly no job offerings. she started doing little jobs on diagon alley, and even worked in a muggle psychic store for a while, twisting tarot cards and gut feelings into tales that left her clients happy and her pockets full.
sybill is against tom riddle’s politics not out of some sense of justice, but because it would be counter intuitive for a half blood from a disgraced family to support him. that being said, her moral compass is completely broken and based on 1. vibes and 2. whatever would benefit her most at the moment, so you never know.
libby currently works as a waitress in the leaky tap and as a mostly fake but occasionally true psychic. if you want an absolutely unhinged tarot read she’s your girl.
all in all she’s my poor little meow meow, she’s sooo pathetic, she’s literally insane, she has visions of man-made horrors beyond our comprehension, her moral compass is based on vibes alone and she WILL lie for fun and for profit.
snowghoul
vaporwave
romaincrisis
baratheonpilled
jacobvanloon
