Perenelle's Outfit

Tag: Rhaelle Senya Maenlarys

battlefield i never meant to start a war

The Institute had been trying to recruit her to teach, again, and so she had come, and she had given them their meeting, and she still had no intentions whatsoever about settling into a life of academia in this field as well. Alchemy, of course. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to spend the rest of her life trying to perfect that which was her grandfather's work. She was getting close. When it came to the stone, she knew that she wasn't there yet, but she was getting ever closer, and she thought that finding out that there was something more to go on in the journals was important. The spells that they had been using to restore them were bringing out things that they hadn't even known were there yet. Things that she was going to have to try, to figure out what did, and didn't work. If she was going to make a stone, she was going to have to do so in the same fashion that they had. And she knew that it was possible. It had been done before. Right now, it was only a matter of doing it again.  This place was not for alchemy though, this was for dragons, and dragons were what kept her relatively sane. Well, Nell thought that she was perfectly sane, actually, but that was beside the point. She wasn't supposed to be sane, she was a Flamel. They were all a little out there. They were all that much convinced that they could fix the world. In one way or another, they all tried. Doctors, Lawyers, Aurors, Politicians, Alchemist, Artists, Potioneers. They were a mix of everything, they were everything that they needed to be. And Nell thought that they were more than likely to actually do it. That one day, they would save the world. Because there were enough of them, they were happy, and well liked, and they were a name that people knew. They were a name that people associated with light, and with magic, and with doing some good. They were brilliant, and sometimes it took brilliance to save the world.  Saving the world... Well, saving the world didn't happen over night, and she knew that she wasn't going to save the world by going to check on the hatchlings, but she was going to do it anyway. Honestly she knew that it was a risk. One that she was sure that someone, either Maman or Wyatt, would say was too much. That she shouldn't be going into a mother dragon's space to begin with, but Nell had always pushed the limits of what she was supposed to do, maybe just a little too far. It didn't matter much either way, if she pulled this off, then neither one of them were going to have to be the wiser, and if she didn't... Well they could bond over them being right, and her being a brilliant idiot. Either way, it would be fine. Nothing was going to happen... That confidence was what got her in trouble though, and she knew it the moment that she reached the nest.  Nell had felt the danger before she had seen it. The mother dragon hadn't been with the hatchlings when she had arrived on the far side of the island, something that, on its own wouldn't have been all that threatening, but there was just something in the air. Something that felt electric. Like there was a storm about to start at any moment. It wasn't a feeling that she liked getting by any means, but when she didn't have eyes on the threat, it made it a lot worse. And then she heard it. She had been crouched down at the edge of the nest, as close as she dared to get to observe the hatchlings that she had been keeping records on since they had been freshly laid eggs, when she had heard the sound of the dragon. It was no more than a moment before she felt it. The searing pain across her shoulder as she tried to dive out of the way. Adrenaline coursed through her as she lunged for her notebook, and then her wand that she had dropped. Trying to out maneuver the flames. With one last look over her shoulder, she apparated back to the Institute, landing in what had to be a heap in the middle of the lobby floor.

Battlefield

Better Go and Get Your Armor

Hogwarts was out, and Rhaelle had her plans set for the next handful of years, should she continue to be so unlucky. Lig-Na-Paiste Institute, for the study of dragons, Bangor for Magizoology, the continued position at the Ministry (she had Lord Fernando's permission already), and occasionally seeing Blue, Jin, and Jay. She'd much rather Faroe, but situations didn't look as if they were shifting anytime soon.

So as she had been for years, she was resigned to Ireland. Perhaps in a few years after her graduation, she and Daeron would be able to return under some pretenses. Aunt Rhae's husband's family had been able to keep her, which was well enough. Rhaelle had envied that, though she knew that would never be an option for her. She was Maenlarys, and the dragon need not wed sheep for a pile of rocks.

Rathlin-- Reachlainn-- was the island that her Norse-Gael ancestors had landed, had made merry, raised dragons, and bore descendants. It had been only four centuries they'd been on Faroe, yet the Maenlarys were Faroese in every way that was counted, as much of the islands as pied ravens. Still, what were homelands other than the place one had grown up, ached for, desired? Rhaelle had known only Faroe before she was sent off to Scotland, and much as Shaera might blame their mother, Betha had attended Durmstrang as well as their father, had left Britain young and only returned once they had been exiled.

Rhaelle had done well in Hogwarts, even along Mudbloods and blood traitors, and Durmstrang had none of the first and little of the latter-- none of the mewling about equality and rights they had not been born into. The latter were more annoying than the first, truly. The privilege of being born into families with magic emboldened them, and it made a dull din. Rhaelle was fully aware that her father was rather moderate compared to some and that entire countries were not fully united-- Faroe views were as scattered as the population, after all-- but it was still rather irritating.

After some hours of ignoring her belly's urge for substance, Rhaelle allowed herself to set down her papers. Suileach had been off his usual patterns for the past few days, drifting further into other habitats and less likely to settle in the waters than he usually was. It bore specific similarity to his actions thirty-six years ago when he started growing restless and trying to claim more land, so it was worth mentioning that that was a likely reason. Content with her findings, Rhaelle was on her way to the lunchroom when a black, red, and blonde heap cracked into existence in front of her.

Smoke was still rising, so Rhaelle's reactions was automatic, trained into her by her years growing up-- mostly from Daeron and Duncan, truthfully. A blanket was summoned, doused by an Aguamenti and quickly dropped on to smother whatever embers still lived. The sisal hissed, and Rhaelle refused to flinch at the scent of burning fibres. She could only hoped the blankets here were as effective as the ones she knew, and once she judged enough time, she peeled up a corner.

The victim was one she recognized, luckily. "Perenelle. Madoiselle Flamel. Do you hear me?"

Battlefield

Nell hadn’t decided against the idea of teaching, but she thought that if she was going to teach, it wouldn’t be here. The Institute could have her dragon research, and her brain when it came to that. She would do that part, but she didn’t think that she was ever going to actually wanted to teach here. She could. If she thought that it was something that she needed to do, but she wasn’t convinced that that was the answer. Not yet. She wasn’t convinced that she needed to teach period. And if she did, she thought that she would end up at Bangor. She had graduated from there, and she knew that being friends with the Dean couldn’t really hurt. It would do her more good to be there than here, because while she was very good with dragons, she thought that when it came to teaching, she was better suited to teaching Alchemy. Her father had taught Alchemy at a French university for years, and she had guest lectured for him from time to time. She had covered for him for an entire semester a few years ago. That had showed her that she was good at it, and that she enjoyed it.

There was more to teaching alchemy than just alchemy, and that was more engaging to her than teaching about dragons. Nell didn’t think that you could teach dragons without being hands on. You learned more in the field than you ever would in a class room, and she thought that that was important. She thought that there was something to be said for all of it, something that proved that you really did know what you were doing. You had to know what you were doing, or you were going to get killed. This wasn’t an easy field to specialize in. This was not an easy field to take on at all. And she knew that she had thrown her parents into a minor panic when that had happened in the first place. They certainly hadn’t been expecting that from her, but she thought that they had been okay with it in the end. Maman had taken a little more convincing, but when Nell hadn’t died yet, she thought that she had come around to the idea that she worked and wrote about dragons for a living. It wasn’t even like Alchemy wasn’t dangerous too.

Neither of the things that Nell had chosen to do with her life were easy, or domestic. She thought that it was more complicated than that. Everything about her life was more complicated than that. She was a Flamel. A Perenelle Flamel. Everything about her life was complicated and it had been since the day that she was born. Doppelgängers didn’t just happen. There was a reason for them, even if it was a reason that they couldn’t explain. They couldn’t explain how she was the eighth Perenelle Flamel since the original one that had looked exactly the same. Perenelle had thought that things weren’t going to change when she had died, but she didn’t know. They had no idea if that was the case or not. It didn’t happen every generation. Sometimes they could go hundreds of years without another one cropping up. It wasn’t predictable enough to know where and when to look. They had no idea if it was the magic of the stone, or if it was something in their blood. Or if it was a combination of both? Something about the original having drank the Elixir of Life. Nell thought that there was really only one way to find out, and that was to wait.

Of course, if she had her way, they weren’t going to know, even then… But she knew that today she had had other things on her mind. She had come here, looking to check in with the nests of hatchlings that she had been keeping notes on since they had found the clutch of eggs. She had come here, and she had been in the wrong place. The mother had returned, and Nell had been between her and the hatchlings, and then she hadn’t moved fast enough. The pain, across her shoulders, down her back. She had to have screamed, but she didn’t remember it. There had been the shock, and the adrenaline, and everything else. Nell had no idea how she had gotten out of there. It didn’t make sense. She shouldn’t’ have been able to get herself out. But she had. And now she was here, on the floor… She felt herself collapse and then that was it. The gasp that came out of her mouth at the weight of the blanket on her was enough to have her losing her balance on her one good hand and she crumbled a little more. But she could hear her. “Yes… I’m okay…” She wasn’t, and she knew it. But she wasn’t dying either. That much she knew.

@ rhaelle - 828 - perenelle's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRPHY 2.0

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[attr="class","title1"]Battlefield

[attr="class","subtitle1"] Better gO and Get your Armor

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Consciousness. Awareness.

Those were good, as she knew from both books and experience. Doubt the Apperation had smothered a good amount of the flames, but Rhaelle didn't trust her memory to see if there was Splinching. The bundle of body had seemed to possess nose, and all four limbs. Rhaelle could wager she'd seen hands, though she was unsure about feet. Flamel was no longer smoldering, that was what mattered for now. Besides, if the Splinching was large enough, there would be far more pain. Nails and extremities could be regrown easily.

She waited another moment, a third, removed the blanket and wordlessly Summoned fibers, simply to make sure that there would be none caught in the wounds. Rhaelle frowned at the burn marks-- tricky spot, but the flesh and burns exposed seemed relatively clean. For now. She didn't doubt they'd be hell to pay, and while there were salves that might be applied, they would only numb the pain for some time. Rhaelle would wager that the exposed burns damaged the pain-makers under the skin. The worst areas were beyond their field aid, but the other areas-- no, she knew true procedure. Were she on Rathlin, and it one of her brothers (her breath stole away at the thought), she'd patch him up with what they had. No, the Institute had rules that ought to be be followed, and she was looking to study here. Best to follow them. Her hands itched to apply antibiotic, but officially she was still a student, she wasn't trained, she couldn't administer field procedure more than she already had.

"You're conscious and aware. Can you live through a Side-Along?" Madam Flamel obviously had a strong will, but how much of it had been adrenaline, Rhaelle could not know for sure.

[attr="class","tags1"]☆ @perenelle ☆

[attr="class","credz1"]❤fai

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battlefield

I never meant to start a war

Don't even know we're fighting for

If she were going to teach, she didn’t think that it would be dragons. At least, not at a university. She didn’t think that she was going to want to teach dragons in that setting. She liked being hands on too much. She liked research in the field, and she knew that that was what had caused this. She knew that she had gotten hurt because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She knew that this was her own fault. But Nell couldn’t think about that right now. She had to think about the fact that the pain in wasn’t there yet. That this was not pain. This was shock. This was adrenaline. And this hurt.

It would be so much worse by the time that the actual pain set in. It would be so much worse than it felt right now, and right now she knew that she wasn’t okay. It didn’t matter what she said to the girl, she was not okay, and they both knew it. Her jacket was singed to her back. Scorched into her skin, and she could feel that. She could feel that the fibers of her coat were now burned into her back. She was in pain, and this wasn’t even the half of it. But she also knew that this was part of it. That getting hurt when you were a Dragonologist was not an if. It was not if you got hurt, it was when. And it was how bad.

This was bad. Nell had been hurt before. Broken bones. Burns. But nothing like this. There had never been something this bad hit her before, and Nell knew, on some level, that she was going to have a hard time explaining this one to her maman. She knew that she was going to hate the idea that she had gotten hurt. She was going to hate the idea that anything had done this to her. But she also knew that her mother disapproved of the fact that she worked with Dragons at all. She was Perenelle Flamel. She had a gift when it came to Alchemy. She was her grandmother’s doppelgänger in every way, with the mind, and the journals, of her grandfather.

She had turned out to be the best of both of them, and she didn’t focus solely on that. She liked the dragons too much. The danger was a part of the draw. Knowing that she had to be smart enough to be safe. Smart enough that something like this didn’t happen. At the girl’s words Nell nodded. “I’ve made it this far.” She had lived through apparating herself back here, and she knew that she shouldn’t have. On some level, she didn’t know what it was that had kept her conscious through that. It had to have been the adrenaline. That had to be the only thing that was keeping her aware.

@ rhaelle • 489 • perenelle's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0