RP: Knowing the day of your execution Who: Cho Chang, Marcus Flint When: September 19th Where: Flint residence Rating: Low Warnings: Possible language Summary: The first lambs upon the alter discuss their fate.
Cho stood knee deep in the surf, her skirts sodden and heavy in the foaming sea. She didn't feel the chill that was slowly setting into her skin and raising goosebumps on her flesh. Her eyes were focused on the horizon with a deep and terrible longing. Every bit of ground she had gained on the depression that was eating away at her had been wiped away by the arrival of a bit of parchment announcing her wedding date.
That had been the final, crushing blow. To learn of your own wedding in a mass produced form letter along with the rest of Wizarding Britain was not only an insult the likes of which would once have spawned a blood feud, but a casual type of cruelty that was staggering in its impersonality.
She took another step out into the water. There was a Muggle vessel on the horizon. She could see its radio masts as fine black lines against the gray sky. Even though there was no chance of her reaching it, she was so very, very tempted to make the attempt. Even if the sea dragged her down, would that be any worse than the life awaiting her?