Walburga Black, Cheery Hallows

[bellicism]

The contents of a box found in the attic of Grimmauld Place. The portrait dates back to her coming of age at seventeen, and is the first of five done throughout her lifetime.
Image heavy!

Comments

[blackdasphodele]

OOOO! It's so lovely!

*smiles softly at the pictures of Walburga and the one of Orion*
I am honoured to be a part of such a beautiful family, Aunt Walburga. And I'd nearly forgotten that you played the cello.

[bellicism]

*sniffs*
It does not last. I was the ugly duckling of the family when I was young, you know. Awkward. Odd. Then I blossomed, that's what they say. Then it all dried up and my bones ached. So it goes. I loved the cello, though.

Thank you! :D Much fun in photoshop was had.

[blackdasphodele]

*nods a bit*
You were quite beautiful in your twenties, Auntie. I've always been fond of the portrait you had done then.
*inclines her head*
How old were you when you started playing?

Much talent was exhibited too. :D What's the wee round thing next to the portrait? Or is it a surprise for someone with better eyesight than me? :P
I've been going a bit nuts with photoshop myself for Cissa's two Nov. posts. I really should get one posted. :P

[bellicism]

The artist exhibited that one, once. *chuckles low in her throat* It was everyone's favourite. Orion took to talking to it in his study, later. He hung it over the mantel.

Young. Eleven? I was never as good as I wanted to be.

Hee, thank you. It's a cake of rosin, it's a sort of resin you put on your bow when playing stringed instruments to give the horse hair more purchase. I should probably label it. ;)
Oh you should, I'm all intrigued now!

[kissed_soul]

Damn, but Orion was hot!

*tilts head*
Why do you keep those dolls?

[bellicism]

*graceful smile*
Because they have seen too much to be set free, now.

I figured Sirius and Regulus must have got it somewhere. ;)

[kissed_soul]

All right, but why don't you break them, then?
You know, let them fall to the ground and step on them until they become white powder, yeah?
*teasingly*
After all, they can always whisper what they to anyone going to your house.

[bellicism]

Some of them were broken.
But think of all the things they've seen. Where would it go? Into the dust, to be blown away? Enough will sift away with dust anyway, I prefer to keep some of it.

*low chuckle*
Perhaps I've taught them to lie.

[hexed_gideon]

Clearly, the Black breed for insanity at the earliest possible age. :D Wonderful collection!

Did you get the dolls all at once, or where they given to you one at a time?

[bellicism]

I think it worked out nicely for them with Walburga. ;) Thanks love!

Like rations, to be eked out? Poor darling, is that how you received your toys?

[hexed_gideon]

*a hint of a grin flits across his features*
At times, yes. You didn't, I take it? Is that a form of gluttony, do you think?

[bellicism]

One cannot be responsible for the gifts one receives. Do you think it gluttinous of my parents to give me so many, that they can see me enjoy them all at once? I think it self-serving, but I did not turn them gifts away. Children eat as if each meal is their last.

[ledyanoi_glasa]

How strange it is to remember, to go through old things put aside. I think to look down on my gnarled hand now against a photograph of the young warrior would be somewhat disgusting. Yet you have only become more beautiful. Does it come from saving the past, you suppose, rather than burning it?

[bellicism]

It comes from dwelling among memories. How can one save the past? Only husks to save, and all empty. One can live among reminders, but not the real thing, I suppose.

*quietly, half-amused* I like your hands. I like to think of all the things they have done. You should write me a list, one day.

[ledyanoi_glasa]

How sad that is. That the past cannot be saved. Then we're all doomed to the wheel of fortune and whatever progress the young wish to impose? I suppose I remember now why I have done so many things.

That list would take more than a day. *his smile is sweet but shuttered* Perhaps an abridged version would be more appropriate. Beginning with my father's wand, or perhaps the wolf I killed when I was six?

[bellicism]

Isn't it always that way, Antonin? We all have our roles to play, but I prefer to think I am not quite yet the plaything of the fates. *little sharp-edged smirk* I'm too fond of my own playthings for that.

It would take a lifetime, precious, but it can be begun in a day.
*turns away from the smile, face souring, and rings the bell for tea* How horrible, to kill something so lovely. Did you save the fur at least? That would make it alright, I think.

Lately I've been taking brandy in my tea. Join me, Antonin, and stop hunching in the window.

[exsequeverus]

(loves the cello picture and is made sad by the portrait, thinks the Alphard picture is fascinating, with love writ over his face, the picture of eyes intriguing in the light of past threads, and wonders when the dolls were from, with their plucked hairlines and fake eyebrows)

(also thinks Orion's pretty is a thin veneer over brutal bones)

(is clearly anomalous here) :p

[bellicism]

The portrait is sad! So are the photos, I think.

That's the Blacks for you, though!

Hee. I'm not so sure. ;) Thank you. :D Walburga is incredibly interesting to make posts for.