Post by Deleted on Nov 2, 2018 1:02:19 GMT -5
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[attr="class","lyric1min"]new blood
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[attr="class","lyric2min"]I had to cut a man down to get where I am
But someone had to tumble
And someone had to stand
But someone had to tumble
And someone had to stand
[attr="class","textbodmin"]Getting drunk was not always the answer. But it was sometimes the answer, and Catrine liked to think it was the answer in that particular moment.
Work had turned into a nightmare. Modifying the Auror training program was an absolute nightmare and it was all Catrine could do keep it together and not threaten to murder anyone. She was teaching a lot more than she used to--a lot more than she should have been. Because not many witches and wizards knew how to handle themselves without magic, but Catrine did. So she was spending an insane amount of time teaching the poor trainees that had lost their magic how to defend themselves from there on out. And when she wasn't doing that, she was logging overtime like a madwoman because she was one of the few Aurors to still have all of her magic. And it was all just a lot. Catrine had never expected her life to go this way. Ending up in England, of all places, had been so far from the plan. Further still was a virus that could apparently render people magicless.
But this was her world now, and it was horrifying. What were they without their magic? What was the whole point to the big secret, at that point? Catrine had her opinions on the whole matter, but opinions were not answers. As much as she liked to pretend that they were, this was one instance where opinions were definitely not answers. Opinions were just how her anger happened to manifest, in the middle of a crisis that Catrine didn't know how to solve. And it certainly didn't help that she was tired and exhausted and sore from all of the training classes she was teaching. Morgana above, she had always honestly hoped for an early retirement. One where she would have enough money to live simply and keep working on her own spells and curses. But in the middle of an epidemic shaking the whole nation to the core, musings like that seemed very trivial.
Catrine downed the rest of her vodka--her second glass of the night already--and flagged the bartender down to pour her another glass with a strained smile on her face, which fell back into its usual glare rather quickly. Catrine turned slightly in her seat, sipping at her freshly poured drink as her eyes scanned the casino. She didn't even know why she bothered with this rubbish anymore. She had picked up an extra shift tomorrow afternoon, and Catrine could already tell she was only digging her own, very deep grave with each sip of vodka that went down her throat.
Work had turned into a nightmare. Modifying the Auror training program was an absolute nightmare and it was all Catrine could do keep it together and not threaten to murder anyone. She was teaching a lot more than she used to--a lot more than she should have been. Because not many witches and wizards knew how to handle themselves without magic, but Catrine did. So she was spending an insane amount of time teaching the poor trainees that had lost their magic how to defend themselves from there on out. And when she wasn't doing that, she was logging overtime like a madwoman because she was one of the few Aurors to still have all of her magic. And it was all just a lot. Catrine had never expected her life to go this way. Ending up in England, of all places, had been so far from the plan. Further still was a virus that could apparently render people magicless.
But this was her world now, and it was horrifying. What were they without their magic? What was the whole point to the big secret, at that point? Catrine had her opinions on the whole matter, but opinions were not answers. As much as she liked to pretend that they were, this was one instance where opinions were definitely not answers. Opinions were just how her anger happened to manifest, in the middle of a crisis that Catrine didn't know how to solve. And it certainly didn't help that she was tired and exhausted and sore from all of the training classes she was teaching. Morgana above, she had always honestly hoped for an early retirement. One where she would have enough money to live simply and keep working on her own spells and curses. But in the middle of an epidemic shaking the whole nation to the core, musings like that seemed very trivial.
Catrine downed the rest of her vodka--her second glass of the night already--and flagged the bartender down to pour her another glass with a strained smile on her face, which fell back into its usual glare rather quickly. Catrine turned slightly in her seat, sipping at her freshly poured drink as her eyes scanned the casino. She didn't even know why she bothered with this rubbish anymore. She had picked up an extra shift tomorrow afternoon, and Catrine could already tell she was only digging her own, very deep grave with each sip of vodka that went down her throat.
@ open | 441 words | outfit
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