Entry tags:

character: savannah monroe, unused: cassandra trelawney

RP: Cassandra's Arrival
Who: Cassandra Trelawney & Savannah Monroe
When: 11:32am, precisely.
Where: The entrance courtyard
What: A headache worth 100 or so years.

Warnings: None expected



The vision the week before had been short on details but confirmed by every method she could think of, including reading her own palm. It had changed since the last time she looked at it - something that was expected with age and experience but never so dramatically. She would be taking a journey - a very long one, to a distant place, and yet one that was very familiar. There was no suggestion of what would happen there or whether or not she would return. It simply was. What most people didn't understand about prophecy was the frustrating lack of details when it was important. She could pinpoint where a child had lost a ball with startling accuracy but as things became bigger, details became muddied.

And so Cassandra had decided to act on the suggestion that she might not see her little Hogsmeade cottage again. She had cleaned up, straightened things out, shrunk and hidden the extensive collection of journals she kept of the visions she could remember, and gotten her other affairs in order. She had hoped to hold off as long as possible, not knowing exactly when she was going to have to leave. Traveling on a Sunday was lucky while leaving on a Friday was sure to bring ill-fortune. As it was, neither of those things would happen. It would, in fact, be a Saturday which was neither one thing nor the other.

She had planned it well, in her nicest white dress with a high lace collar (the only one she owned) and her wild hair was carefully pinned in a bun as was the style. And then she sat. And she waited. With her eyes closed, she breathed and she waited, trying to not let her fear of travel get to her. Without her willing herself to do so, she stood and calmly as she could, she walked out of her cottage and into the unknown--

---

Or actually, all too familiar grounds. Well, they would have been familiar if she hadn't been absolutely slammed by a shift in time itself. Wherever she had gone, it was such a difference that her knees buckled underneath her and it took all her effort not to be sick in the grass. Her head was swimming and the pain made everything go white behind her eyelids. Her body was wracked with sobs for a moment as she tried to block everything out, putting up the walls that she could barely manage in the first place.

Cassandra curled over into a ball, making herself as small as possible, her hands on the back of her neck with her fingers interlocked as she just tried to keep her brain from melting out of her ears. As if she actually had control over that. There was a ringing in her ears which usually came after one of her more intense prophecies so she didn't actually realize just how loud she was crying. But how could one really be expected to stay silent and demure when one's head was absolutely throbbing?