[attr="class","backguni"]

[attr="class","lyric1uni"]machine

[attr="class","lyricbguni"]

[attr="class","lyric2uni"]I've been questioning
When you gonna see
I'm not a part of your machine

[attr="class","textboduni"]Camilla wondered what they would all think of this. As she started at the gravestone in front of her, she couldn't help but think that her maternal grandmother's family would have been mortified by everything going on. The Lowes had been... exceptionally purist. Her Aunt Sinistra had made sure of that--but Camilla's mother had been the black sheep in the family. The one to speak out against the ideals, at the risk of losing the people she called family. She had always thought that one's magical skill was determined by their ambition to hone it, not the name they were born into. It was far too fitting that she had married a Shacklebolt, much to the dismay of her parents. At least he's pure, had always been Camilla's grandmother's words. She had never been close with her namesake, but Camilla Shacklebolt remembered enough about Camilla Lowe to realize that there was a reason her mother wanted to be buried with the Shacklebolts instead, when her time finally came.

Elitist ideals aside, family was family, and Camilla made time to visit both the Lowe and Shacklebolt plots. There was no point in getting caught up in the complexities of it all. People made mistakes, some far worse and more gruesome than others, but life moved on. All mistakes aside, Camilla had always tried to take things in stride and protect the people closest to her. She knew how to make difficult decisions and how to keep a level head. She already had the Shacklebolt name placing a rather large target on her back, after all. There was no point in framing it with Christmas lights, or something like that.

Her grandmother would have said it was disgraceful, wizards and witches losing their magic. That, clearly, the strongest would survive--and then she would backtrack on that statement at the first sign of a pureblood losing their magic and try to frame it on those magic-stealing muggles. She had been far from a kind woman, and sometimes Camilla questioned why her own mother had named her after her--but then again, people had done crazier things for family. This was just one of those things that Camilla decided not to question. It was far from her biggest concern, anyways. Setting down the bouquet of flowers in her hands, Camilla took a few steps back, her gaze unwavering from the headstone. Camilla Manyara Lowe née Akingbade. Loving mother and devoted wife. The generic statements that just about everyone wanted on their headstone. Even a Lowe.

@ open | 418 words | outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF GS + WW

[googlefont=Dancing Script]
[newclass=.backguni]width:410px;background:url('http://www.designbolts.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Black-wood-photoshop-pattern-for-website-background.jpg');border-top:10px solid #644d80;border-bottom:10px solid #644d80;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyric1uni]color:#644d80;text:2px 0px #644d80,0px 2px #644d80,0px -2px #644d80,-2px 0px #644d80;font:30px Dancing Script;font-weight:bold;margin-bottom:-20px; text-align: left;text-transform:lowercase;margin-left:23px;padding-top:10px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyric2uni]font:9px Verdana;line-height:9px;text-align:justify;color:#e6e6e6;text-transform:uppercase;float:left;margin-top:-8px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.lyricbguni]padding:20px;background:#262626;margin-left:20px;border-bottom:2px #644d80 solid;[/newclass]
[newclass=.textboduni]width:300px;font:10px Verdana;text-align:justify;padding:20px;background:#262626;color:#e6e6e6;line-height:14px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred]text-align:center;font-size:6pt;color:rgb(132, 132, 132);letter-spacing:1px;font-family:verdana;[/newclass]
[newclass=.cred a]color:rgb(132, 132, 132);[/newclass]

machine

I'm not a part of your machine

i am the machine

It was well past time that Hali actually made it home for the night, but she had been wandering, and thinking, and trying to work out what it was that she wanted to actually do now. Working for Mare Aloja was giving her a sense of accomplishment that she hadn’t had before. There was something that she could take pride in in that work. And she thought that that was a good thing. Hali didn’t think that she had time in her life to continue to live in her sister’s shadow. Even if she hadn’t ever actually been in it. She had to make changes. She had to do something different. She had to find some sort of answer that wasn’t the same. She had to do something that was going to get her mind off of all of that.

And maybe that meant that she was going to have to focus on what it meant to really be her. And what it meant to live the best life that she knew how to live. If there was something that she was going to do. If there was something that she needed, she thought that this was the moment. She thought that there was a reason that things were going to be harder and harder to let go of. Things were going to be harder to come to terms with, if she wasn’t going to be her. And she wanted to be her. She wanted to figure out who her was now that she was stuck here in England. Because moving about had been easier. Moving about, and helping people, and learning about horticulture all over the world. She knew that that was important.

It was learning what was important here that was the difference. And she thought that there was something unique about learning that on her own. It was partially why she had come up here. It was partially why she was looking for her grandfather’s grave. Because he had been one of the few people that had thought that she was going to be just fine all on her own. That she didn’t need to worry about being someone that she wasn’t. Or at least, that was how she chose to remember him. He didn’t think that there was anything wrong with her, and that was the kind of influence that Hali had needed in her life. The only problem was that he had been taken away from her so early. So soon…

She didn’t think that there was a reason for such nonsensical things. Like death. It wasn’t something that she thought that she could make sense of. And as much as she thought that no one understood it, she was glad that this epidemic hadn’t actually hit anyone that hard. As far as she knew, no one had died, and she thought that she would have heard. Even if it was second hand, she had a feeling that that was something that she would have heard. It would have been something that the pixie would have offered up as a talking point she was sure. Hali couldn’t let herself think about that insufferable blonde right now. Not when she was here for a different reason.

Laying her hand on her grandfather’s headstone, Hali straightened up from where she had been crouching in front of it, and she twisted to the side to stretch. Catching sight of someone else that was paying respects. She nodded to the other woman out of politeness, “Good day.”

@ camilla • 588 • halima's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0