(no subject)
I felt since I put a sample of rpness of Luna up then I might as well share one of Tempest as well. *shrugs* This is typical postage too...I'm such a DORK.
Warm yellow beams of sunlight filtered through the heavy drawn curtains leaving only a few pale sparse streams scattered about the lightly decorated bedroom. Apparently a start of another bright and beautiful day that was determined to make sure that everybody knew it and would wake up and enjoy its offering of sunny whether and light breezes. Somewhere, in another part of the house, a door closed and footsteps echoed down the hall leading towards the main staircase. The occupant of the bed merely rolled over and buried their head beneath one of the extra pillows and tried to ignore the sounds. Unfortunately at the exact moment a bird, of unknown genus (since the windows were drawn so there was no visual reference), began singing its morning anthem right outside the bedroom's closest window to the bed.
Tempest lay for long moments listening to the shrill but pleasant bird's debut, giggling under her breath as she imagined the lark, or whatever the bird was, was sent by her parents to make sure she woke up and would get out of bed. It was a weekday after all and no one should really sleep in on a weekday. "That's what weekends were for," She'd once heard her father laugh over the breakfast table one summer. She'd always remembered being woken up at a decent hour every weekday before and since the words had been uttered so it was obviously true about the bird. . .or so she liked to imagine. Perhaps it was a charm one of her parents had cast on all their beds so that they wouldn't sleep past nine thirty during the summer and seven sharp during any other time. The girl reminded herself to ask her mother when she tumbled out of bed and down the stairs for her morning tea and sweet bread.
A delicate groan issued from beneath the pile of pillows before an arm snaked from the covers to push away the extra weight atop her head. Slowly, oh so very slowly, she pushed away the comforter and swung her feet over the edge of her bed. She couldn't quite remember where her slippers had gotten off to so Tempest decided to just hoof it barefooted to her closest. Thankfully a rug stretched just far enough under her bed that the very edges just caught where she placed her feet onto the ground every time she got out of bed. Her toes scrunched against the surface a moment before she added her full weight onto her feet. It was truly a lazy day if she still felt the urge to fling herself back into the warmth of her covers and try to eek out another fifteen minutes. Of course she knew the result of that little endeavor would be a cold glass of water tipped over her head on the last minute of the fifteen so she didn't even bother.
Getting dressed took only ten minutes but she didn't leave her room for another twenty. Her hair was always a smattering of tangles and took the longest to get tame. She asked her mother repeatidly to let her use just a tiny bit of natural magic to ease the pains of her hair but she was refused at every request. She couldn't really blame the woman from stopping her, it was against the Ministry's rules. Though Tempest held quite firm beliefs about where the Ministry could stick that lame little rule. It was so silly, but then again for those witches and wizards that came from purely muggle family’s needed that rule so little bits of magic weren't displayed to those that didn't know about the wizarding world. With a sigh and a final swipe of the brush through her thick hair, she put away the brush and looked for her socks. Once found she tossed on her pennys and headed out into the hallway then down the stairs towards the breakfast nook in the kitchen.
Warm yellow beams of sunlight filtered through the heavy drawn curtains leaving only a few pale sparse streams scattered about the lightly decorated bedroom. Apparently a start of another bright and beautiful day that was determined to make sure that everybody knew it and would wake up and enjoy its offering of sunny whether and light breezes. Somewhere, in another part of the house, a door closed and footsteps echoed down the hall leading towards the main staircase. The occupant of the bed merely rolled over and buried their head beneath one of the extra pillows and tried to ignore the sounds. Unfortunately at the exact moment a bird, of unknown genus (since the windows were drawn so there was no visual reference), began singing its morning anthem right outside the bedroom's closest window to the bed.
Tempest lay for long moments listening to the shrill but pleasant bird's debut, giggling under her breath as she imagined the lark, or whatever the bird was, was sent by her parents to make sure she woke up and would get out of bed. It was a weekday after all and no one should really sleep in on a weekday. "That's what weekends were for," She'd once heard her father laugh over the breakfast table one summer. She'd always remembered being woken up at a decent hour every weekday before and since the words had been uttered so it was obviously true about the bird. . .or so she liked to imagine. Perhaps it was a charm one of her parents had cast on all their beds so that they wouldn't sleep past nine thirty during the summer and seven sharp during any other time. The girl reminded herself to ask her mother when she tumbled out of bed and down the stairs for her morning tea and sweet bread.
A delicate groan issued from beneath the pile of pillows before an arm snaked from the covers to push away the extra weight atop her head. Slowly, oh so very slowly, she pushed away the comforter and swung her feet over the edge of her bed. She couldn't quite remember where her slippers had gotten off to so Tempest decided to just hoof it barefooted to her closest. Thankfully a rug stretched just far enough under her bed that the very edges just caught where she placed her feet onto the ground every time she got out of bed. Her toes scrunched against the surface a moment before she added her full weight onto her feet. It was truly a lazy day if she still felt the urge to fling herself back into the warmth of her covers and try to eek out another fifteen minutes. Of course she knew the result of that little endeavor would be a cold glass of water tipped over her head on the last minute of the fifteen so she didn't even bother.
Getting dressed took only ten minutes but she didn't leave her room for another twenty. Her hair was always a smattering of tangles and took the longest to get tame. She asked her mother repeatidly to let her use just a tiny bit of natural magic to ease the pains of her hair but she was refused at every request. She couldn't really blame the woman from stopping her, it was against the Ministry's rules. Though Tempest held quite firm beliefs about where the Ministry could stick that lame little rule. It was so silly, but then again for those witches and wizards that came from purely muggle family’s needed that rule so little bits of magic weren't displayed to those that didn't know about the wizarding world. With a sigh and a final swipe of the brush through her thick hair, she put away the brush and looked for her socks. Once found she tossed on her pennys and headed out into the hallway then down the stairs towards the breakfast nook in the kitchen.