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Alexandrine aka Alexandrine Armaine (She/Her) is a 29 year old (DOB: July 17, 1994) pure-blood witch. She wields a 10¼" Mahogany, Dragon Heartstring wand, and a member of the unsorted masses of Hogwarts students just off the train eagerly crowding around the Sorting Hat.
About Me
All secrets are deep. All secrets become dark. That is the nature of secrets.
There is always an interior fascination about the prospect of an eternal life, but even more longed for is that of eternal youth. Youth, like time, ticks away with every second past. A picture painted displays the flesh and soul both, at that exact moment, upon that exact day; a representation of the past which glanced back upon, may present feelings of either nostalgia or disgust. Always yearned for at a backward glance, is the prime and the beauty once possessed, to be forever reflected in a display but never returned to in person. Taunting.
For one whose vanity seeps through their pores, it is obvious a way of clinging to this sense of perfection is constantly sought after. On the other hand is a motive held by a longing for not exactly that permanent 'beauty' but that permanent youthfulness. Either way, it is a desirable quality. To live forever is one thing. To never age is another. They imagine; just imagine if it was possible to preserve the elite living image of themselves. They wish, dream, pray.
Potions and concoctions can only do so much for so long, likewise with spell-work, and with the destroying of the only known Philosopher's Stone in existence after the attempted return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it appears a way to create the ideal is buried away for only the most wanting to discover.
There is another way. Few have ever cast their minds into the very depths of magic to stumble across it. Even fewer have been willing to act in accordance; to risk it, for the price to pay is dear. There is one who did, though. One who lived for solitude and silence; who delved into a type of sorcery barely understood to achieve that most desired. And now it is she who pays the price for her foolishness or stroke of brilliance, for it is still undecided which exactly it is.
"From the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half life... A cursed life."
There is always an interior fascination about the prospect of an eternal life, but even more longed for is that of eternal youth. Youth, like time, ticks away with every second past. A picture painted displays the flesh and soul both, at that exact moment, upon that exact day; a representation of the past which glanced back upon, may present feelings of either nostalgia or disgust. Always yearned for at a backward glance, is the prime and the beauty once possessed, to be forever reflected in a display but never returned to in person. Taunting.
For one whose vanity seeps through their pores, it is obvious a way of clinging to this sense of perfection is constantly sought after. On the other hand is a motive held by a longing for not exactly that permanent 'beauty' but that permanent youthfulness. Either way, it is a desirable quality. To live forever is one thing. To never age is another. They imagine; just imagine if it was possible to preserve the elite living image of themselves. They wish, dream, pray.
Potions and concoctions can only do so much for so long, likewise with spell-work, and with the destroying of the only known Philosopher's Stone in existence after the attempted return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it appears a way to create the ideal is buried away for only the most wanting to discover.
There is another way. Few have ever cast their minds into the very depths of magic to stumble across it. Even fewer have been willing to act in accordance; to risk it, for the price to pay is dear. There is one who did, though. One who lived for solitude and silence; who delved into a type of sorcery barely understood to achieve that most desired. And now it is she who pays the price for her foolishness or stroke of brilliance, for it is still undecided which exactly it is.
"From the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half life... A cursed life."
