Sasha Blake
Jul 17, 2014 9:52:45 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2014 9:52:45 GMT -5
Sasha Luisa Blake
NAME: Sasha Marie Luisa Blake
AGE: 20
SOCIAL CLASS: Lower-class
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single
OCCUPATION: Tailor at Gladrags Wizardwear
PLAY-BY: Nina Dobrev
BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood
EYES: Chestnut Brown
HAIR: Dark Brown
SKINTONE: Olive; it never burns from too much sunlight, but instead tans and turns just a few shades darker than her natural tone.
HEIGHT & WEIGHT: 5'6" & 120 lbs
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: A birthmark in the shape of maple leaf below her left knee, a faded, white scar on her lower back from an incident involving a hot poker and the fireplace when she was very young.
OVERALL PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Sasha is of average height with a feminine build. She has almond-shaped eyes the color of chestnuts. Her thick, curly, brown hair is worn in an array of styles. She has a small mouth, elegant nose, and high cheekbones. Her clothing is usually quite new, as she receives discounts at Gladrags and uses fabric and material to craft her own clothing.
NON-MAGICAL SKILLS: Baking; although she hasn't quite mastered full-course meals, Sasha's baking skills are topnotch. Sasha isn't so proud of these talents as they make her seem too 'domestic', in her opinion, but she has a knack for quilting and embroidery, as well as playing the harp.
MAGICAL SKILLS: Charms was always an easing subject for her in school and she continues to practice charm spells with ease. Though she denies it, she does sometimes have minor prophetic dreams, which derive from the seer blood coursing through her veins on her father's side of the family. She is skilled at growing magical plants.
WEAKNESSES: Oblivious; mostly when it comes to romantic matters. Reckless; acts without first thinking. Stubborn; once she'd decided on a matter it is very hard to change her mind. Cocky; she is loud and boisterous, not caring what anyone thinks of her (or so she says). She can be pushy and overbearing, almost controlling when it comes to what she believes is best for those close to her.
STRENGTHS: Caring; she genuinely cares for those that are important to her and will show her care through both actions and words. Devoted; if there's something she cares about, she'll put her all into it rather than acting halfheartedly. Honest; it is brutal honest rather than gentle honesty, however. Loyal, protective, and resilient; she's a very dependable person.
QUIRKS & HABITS: Believes in gender equality; carries around a locket everyone, as it is her 'lucky' item; refuses to wear any color of clothing she doesn't believe will look well on her; saves a portion of her earnings inside her pillowcase; embroiders, plays the sport of badminton, writes in a journal; is afraid of snakes and heights to a certain extent; nearly always exactly on-time to every event; sleep-talks.
OVERALL PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION: An outspoken, determined individualist who has flair to back up her confident attitude, Sasha has that intangible quality that draws people in. She’s society's rule-bender – the girl that doesn’t listen to what she’s meant to do and breaks all the rules. By the way she talks, one might think she’s a naturally unkind person, but she’s not. She simply speaks her mind without caution, only thinking of what she's said after she's said it. If you're her friend, it's probably for life; enemies always get one chance at redemption, unless there's no hope for them, before she writes them off for good.
BIRTH PLACE: Tinworth in Cornwall
PARENTS: Kyril Heinrich Anton Saxe-Coburg and Gotha and Joan de Clare
SIBLINGS: Ludwig Karl Philipp Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Eudoxia Augusta Maria Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Audrey Lillian (twin)
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: N/A
CHILDREN: N/A
OTHERS: Ethan Blake, son of the Blake family, who own and run the orphanage Sasha was raised in. He was a close friend and confidant to her before their Hogwarts years, and is now someone she cares about deeply and is admittedly in love with, but won't say it.
CHARACTER HISTORY: Born September 17th, 1962, Sasha was neither a wanted nor expected child. Her mother, Joan de Clare, was staying with a relative for a year to attend court in Bulgarian rather than go to court back home in England, when she met her father, Kyril Heinrich Anton Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. The young man was only a year older than her and her aunt had made it very clear to Joan that he was not a marriage prospect, because even though he came from a prominent family, he had yet to establish himself on his own. This did not deter Joan from walking in the gardens of her aunt's home the night after she'd met the young man, nor the several other private hours the two spent together away from prying eyes.
When Joan returned home after having spent a year at court in Bulgaria, her parents were disappointed to find that she did not make a nice match while there. The reason, Joan had explained to them, was because none of the Bulgarian men had interested her, though the truth of the matter was that she'd been too blinded by Kyril to focus on any other suitors. Her mother pointed out that she'd put on a few pounds as well while away and guessed that the few extra pounds might have deterred better suitors. To better her daughter's chances, she ordered the cooks to fix lighter meals for her and serve smaller portions on her plate. Joan didn't protest because she'd also noticed the small belly that had formed over her abdomen and was frightened enough in her early girlhood of becoming as large as her Aunt Margaret, who'd ended up married to a man widowed twice over and carried around with him a lingering smell of alcohol.
Her health began to deteriorate, though a physician was not called to see about her until she was so sickly she was unable to leave bed. When it was revealed that Joan was in fact with child, her mother fainted as her father stood to the side, the disappointment he felt in his child etched onto his features. The physician also found Joan to be dehydrated and the baby she carried to have a very weak heart-rate. She still had a month left to her pregnancy, he surmised, but both baby and mother would not survive another month. The baby needed to be removed from the womb as soon as possible to preserve it and the mother's life. Mrs. de Clare began to prep her daughter's bedroom for birthing as Mr. de Clare issued an order to all the servants; that order was that they were never to speak of Lady Joan or the baby she had carried in her womb.
Within a fortnight, the physician began the operation to remove the child, though Mrs. de Clare had begged her husband to allow her to call for a Healer. He'd dismissed her pleas, never having cared for the magic that he'd been born with nor the world that came along with it. As soon as the baby, "a girl", the physician had muttered softly, was removed from the womb and placed atop her mother's chest, the old man began to clean and stick up all the delicate pieces he'd cut apart. Mother and child rested together, the fitful cries dimming into nothing as the small baby adapted to the rise and fall of her mother's chest. Once he had finished his work, the physician left the room quietly. There was a lull of silence before the hurricane that followed once the door opened once again and Mr. and Mrs. de Clare entered.
Mrs. de Clare removed the baby from her daughter's chest, despite the pleas from her daughter, begging her not to take the child away. Having already hardened her heart to what she was going to do, Mrs. de Clare was able to turn away from her daughter, walk from the room, and then downstairs, outside into a carriage. The wailing newborn in her arms - her grandchild - knew not where she was being taken, but only that she had been snatched away from the warm bosom of a person whom she would have one day called 'mummy' had mother and child not been separated. After a short while into the drive, the infant stopped wailing in her grandmother's arms, resigned to staring up at the older face sleepily, her eyes closing only to open moments after several times before they closed and did not reopen again.
The carriage stopped outside a mansion of a home, one that Mrs. de Clare had only ever heard of in pleasant speak and never been to in person herself. It looked nice enough, from what she could tell with it being as dark as it was. With careful steps she made her way to the large, double front doors, knocking loudly twice before one was opened by a young maid with tired eyes. After being allowed inside the mansion, Mrs. de Clare waited in the foyer with the newborn until a man and woman, who introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Blake, entered the room. Both were still wearing their nightgowns and for a brief moment, Mrs. de Clare felt regret for awaking them from their slumber. But her reason for standing before them was much more important than slumber and the regret did not linger very long. She explained the situation to the couple before handing the newborn over to Mrs. Blake, who held the baby so gently one would have thought it was her child and not Mrs. de Clare's grandchild; this struck the old woman with brief jealousy, to see another woman so lovingly hold the child she had ripped from her own daughter. But it was brief and she was soon gone from the orphanage. The child she had left there would become a distant memory.
Or not. Hours after delivering her first child, Joan had given birth to another daughter - she had given birth to twins. It was but a year later that Mr. and Mrs. de Clare learned that their daughter could no longer have children due to the trauma her womb had sustained from the first childbirth. Joan would forever remain both a barren woman and a childless mother.
The name Sasha Marie Luisa had come inside a letter with no return address, simply signed with the initials K.S. when the child was three years of age. An assortment of names had been used to address the child by workers at the orphanage up until then, though none had quite fit. The name in the letter though, fit quite nicely. The child was no longer nameless or with too many names that did not fit. The little brown-haired child with curls became Sasha; sometimes Sasha Marie Luisa Blake when she was in trouble with the Matron. It was common for children of the orphanage to take the surname Blake when they were not given one, though all, once they had exhibited accidental magic, were free to choose a new one if they wished. Most did not. Sasha, though at the age of eight decided that Blake was too boring of a surname, and that she should like a surname that stuck out from the norm, did keep the surname in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Blake, who had been like parents to her. And because it made her feel part of family, with all the other kids bearing the surname as well.
With the help of sponsors, the Blakes were able to send all children under their care to Hogwarts when the time arose. And unlike other low-class children, those from the orphanage were afforded a tutor growing up, and were this equipped with basic knowledge, such as reading and writing. Sasha was sorted into Slytherin house, though the hat had considered Hufflepuff before Sasha herself made a comment questioning the ability of the hat to truly know where to place a student. Though initially brushed off by other students of Slytherin house that saw themselves as above someone with such low standing in the class system, Sasha found herself a group of friends, one being a fellow Slytherin, and disregarded all comments made throughout her five years at the school regarding her blood status, living situation, or class. After taking her OWLs, instead of continuing school for another two years, she chose to leave. She'd never had a penchant for studying and she had enough OWLs to grant her a position at St. Mungos, if she had wanted to work there.
Together with the Matron, she went to Gladrags Wizardwear and applied for the position of seamstresses' assistant, slowly working her way up to Tailor in the years that followed. Though she had protested to be allowed to leave the orphanage a month into her new job, she was reminded by Mr. Blake that she was not yet of legal age to be out in the world without a guardian. When her legal age did come and pass, Sasha still did not leave the orphanage, choosing to continue living there. Mr. and Mrs. Blake did not ask her to leave and were truthfully very glad she had continued to live with them (most girls that left the orphanage wound up on the street or working at the parlour). They didn't even ask for rent, though she insisted on paying a small sum for her board and keep.
When not working, Sasha always spent time with the Blake's only son. She'd thought of him as something of an elder brother when they were children, but that had turned into infatuation when she was a teenager and later, love. It is no secret among staff at the orphanage or Sasha's circle of friends what her feelings toward the young Blake are and what his feelings towards her are, though neither of the two are able to recognize the feelings of the other. On Sasha's part, she would very much like him to stay oblivious to her feelings. She believes it would only cause the end of their friendship, which is the only relationship of theirs she will ever have to cherish as her class standing makes her unsuitable for him.
NAME: Paige
AGE: 19
YEARS ROLEPLAYING: About 5
DO YOU AGREE TO THE RULES OF LOVE?: Yes
DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE RP TERMS UNDER RP: ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW?: Yes
HOW'D YOU FIND US?: One of the helpers that created this site
DATE: 07/17/14
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
AGE: 20
SOCIAL CLASS: Lower-class
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single
OCCUPATION: Tailor at Gladrags Wizardwear
PLAY-BY: Nina Dobrev
BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood
EYES: Chestnut Brown
HAIR: Dark Brown
SKINTONE: Olive; it never burns from too much sunlight, but instead tans and turns just a few shades darker than her natural tone.
HEIGHT & WEIGHT: 5'6" & 120 lbs
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: A birthmark in the shape of maple leaf below her left knee, a faded, white scar on her lower back from an incident involving a hot poker and the fireplace when she was very young.
OVERALL PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Sasha is of average height with a feminine build. She has almond-shaped eyes the color of chestnuts. Her thick, curly, brown hair is worn in an array of styles. She has a small mouth, elegant nose, and high cheekbones. Her clothing is usually quite new, as she receives discounts at Gladrags and uses fabric and material to craft her own clothing.
NON-MAGICAL SKILLS: Baking; although she hasn't quite mastered full-course meals, Sasha's baking skills are topnotch. Sasha isn't so proud of these talents as they make her seem too 'domestic', in her opinion, but she has a knack for quilting and embroidery, as well as playing the harp.
MAGICAL SKILLS: Charms was always an easing subject for her in school and she continues to practice charm spells with ease. Though she denies it, she does sometimes have minor prophetic dreams, which derive from the seer blood coursing through her veins on her father's side of the family. She is skilled at growing magical plants.
WEAKNESSES: Oblivious; mostly when it comes to romantic matters. Reckless; acts without first thinking. Stubborn; once she'd decided on a matter it is very hard to change her mind. Cocky; she is loud and boisterous, not caring what anyone thinks of her (or so she says). She can be pushy and overbearing, almost controlling when it comes to what she believes is best for those close to her.
STRENGTHS: Caring; she genuinely cares for those that are important to her and will show her care through both actions and words. Devoted; if there's something she cares about, she'll put her all into it rather than acting halfheartedly. Honest; it is brutal honest rather than gentle honesty, however. Loyal, protective, and resilient; she's a very dependable person.
QUIRKS & HABITS: Believes in gender equality; carries around a locket everyone, as it is her 'lucky' item; refuses to wear any color of clothing she doesn't believe will look well on her; saves a portion of her earnings inside her pillowcase; embroiders, plays the sport of badminton, writes in a journal; is afraid of snakes and heights to a certain extent; nearly always exactly on-time to every event; sleep-talks.
OVERALL PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION: An outspoken, determined individualist who has flair to back up her confident attitude, Sasha has that intangible quality that draws people in. She’s society's rule-bender – the girl that doesn’t listen to what she’s meant to do and breaks all the rules. By the way she talks, one might think she’s a naturally unkind person, but she’s not. She simply speaks her mind without caution, only thinking of what she's said after she's said it. If you're her friend, it's probably for life; enemies always get one chance at redemption, unless there's no hope for them, before she writes them off for good.
BIRTH PLACE: Tinworth in Cornwall
PARENTS: Kyril Heinrich Anton Saxe-Coburg and Gotha and Joan de Clare
SIBLINGS: Ludwig Karl Philipp Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Eudoxia Augusta Maria Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Audrey Lillian (twin)
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: N/A
CHILDREN: N/A
OTHERS: Ethan Blake, son of the Blake family, who own and run the orphanage Sasha was raised in. He was a close friend and confidant to her before their Hogwarts years, and is now someone she cares about deeply and is admittedly in love with, but won't say it.
CHARACTER HISTORY: Born September 17th, 1962, Sasha was neither a wanted nor expected child. Her mother, Joan de Clare, was staying with a relative for a year to attend court in Bulgarian rather than go to court back home in England, when she met her father, Kyril Heinrich Anton Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. The young man was only a year older than her and her aunt had made it very clear to Joan that he was not a marriage prospect, because even though he came from a prominent family, he had yet to establish himself on his own. This did not deter Joan from walking in the gardens of her aunt's home the night after she'd met the young man, nor the several other private hours the two spent together away from prying eyes.
When Joan returned home after having spent a year at court in Bulgaria, her parents were disappointed to find that she did not make a nice match while there. The reason, Joan had explained to them, was because none of the Bulgarian men had interested her, though the truth of the matter was that she'd been too blinded by Kyril to focus on any other suitors. Her mother pointed out that she'd put on a few pounds as well while away and guessed that the few extra pounds might have deterred better suitors. To better her daughter's chances, she ordered the cooks to fix lighter meals for her and serve smaller portions on her plate. Joan didn't protest because she'd also noticed the small belly that had formed over her abdomen and was frightened enough in her early girlhood of becoming as large as her Aunt Margaret, who'd ended up married to a man widowed twice over and carried around with him a lingering smell of alcohol.
Her health began to deteriorate, though a physician was not called to see about her until she was so sickly she was unable to leave bed. When it was revealed that Joan was in fact with child, her mother fainted as her father stood to the side, the disappointment he felt in his child etched onto his features. The physician also found Joan to be dehydrated and the baby she carried to have a very weak heart-rate. She still had a month left to her pregnancy, he surmised, but both baby and mother would not survive another month. The baby needed to be removed from the womb as soon as possible to preserve it and the mother's life. Mrs. de Clare began to prep her daughter's bedroom for birthing as Mr. de Clare issued an order to all the servants; that order was that they were never to speak of Lady Joan or the baby she had carried in her womb.
Within a fortnight, the physician began the operation to remove the child, though Mrs. de Clare had begged her husband to allow her to call for a Healer. He'd dismissed her pleas, never having cared for the magic that he'd been born with nor the world that came along with it. As soon as the baby, "a girl", the physician had muttered softly, was removed from the womb and placed atop her mother's chest, the old man began to clean and stick up all the delicate pieces he'd cut apart. Mother and child rested together, the fitful cries dimming into nothing as the small baby adapted to the rise and fall of her mother's chest. Once he had finished his work, the physician left the room quietly. There was a lull of silence before the hurricane that followed once the door opened once again and Mr. and Mrs. de Clare entered.
Mrs. de Clare removed the baby from her daughter's chest, despite the pleas from her daughter, begging her not to take the child away. Having already hardened her heart to what she was going to do, Mrs. de Clare was able to turn away from her daughter, walk from the room, and then downstairs, outside into a carriage. The wailing newborn in her arms - her grandchild - knew not where she was being taken, but only that she had been snatched away from the warm bosom of a person whom she would have one day called 'mummy' had mother and child not been separated. After a short while into the drive, the infant stopped wailing in her grandmother's arms, resigned to staring up at the older face sleepily, her eyes closing only to open moments after several times before they closed and did not reopen again.
The carriage stopped outside a mansion of a home, one that Mrs. de Clare had only ever heard of in pleasant speak and never been to in person herself. It looked nice enough, from what she could tell with it being as dark as it was. With careful steps she made her way to the large, double front doors, knocking loudly twice before one was opened by a young maid with tired eyes. After being allowed inside the mansion, Mrs. de Clare waited in the foyer with the newborn until a man and woman, who introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Blake, entered the room. Both were still wearing their nightgowns and for a brief moment, Mrs. de Clare felt regret for awaking them from their slumber. But her reason for standing before them was much more important than slumber and the regret did not linger very long. She explained the situation to the couple before handing the newborn over to Mrs. Blake, who held the baby so gently one would have thought it was her child and not Mrs. de Clare's grandchild; this struck the old woman with brief jealousy, to see another woman so lovingly hold the child she had ripped from her own daughter. But it was brief and she was soon gone from the orphanage. The child she had left there would become a distant memory.
Or not. Hours after delivering her first child, Joan had given birth to another daughter - she had given birth to twins. It was but a year later that Mr. and Mrs. de Clare learned that their daughter could no longer have children due to the trauma her womb had sustained from the first childbirth. Joan would forever remain both a barren woman and a childless mother.
The name Sasha Marie Luisa had come inside a letter with no return address, simply signed with the initials K.S. when the child was three years of age. An assortment of names had been used to address the child by workers at the orphanage up until then, though none had quite fit. The name in the letter though, fit quite nicely. The child was no longer nameless or with too many names that did not fit. The little brown-haired child with curls became Sasha; sometimes Sasha Marie Luisa Blake when she was in trouble with the Matron. It was common for children of the orphanage to take the surname Blake when they were not given one, though all, once they had exhibited accidental magic, were free to choose a new one if they wished. Most did not. Sasha, though at the age of eight decided that Blake was too boring of a surname, and that she should like a surname that stuck out from the norm, did keep the surname in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Blake, who had been like parents to her. And because it made her feel part of family, with all the other kids bearing the surname as well.
With the help of sponsors, the Blakes were able to send all children under their care to Hogwarts when the time arose. And unlike other low-class children, those from the orphanage were afforded a tutor growing up, and were this equipped with basic knowledge, such as reading and writing. Sasha was sorted into Slytherin house, though the hat had considered Hufflepuff before Sasha herself made a comment questioning the ability of the hat to truly know where to place a student. Though initially brushed off by other students of Slytherin house that saw themselves as above someone with such low standing in the class system, Sasha found herself a group of friends, one being a fellow Slytherin, and disregarded all comments made throughout her five years at the school regarding her blood status, living situation, or class. After taking her OWLs, instead of continuing school for another two years, she chose to leave. She'd never had a penchant for studying and she had enough OWLs to grant her a position at St. Mungos, if she had wanted to work there.
Together with the Matron, she went to Gladrags Wizardwear and applied for the position of seamstresses' assistant, slowly working her way up to Tailor in the years that followed. Though she had protested to be allowed to leave the orphanage a month into her new job, she was reminded by Mr. Blake that she was not yet of legal age to be out in the world without a guardian. When her legal age did come and pass, Sasha still did not leave the orphanage, choosing to continue living there. Mr. and Mrs. Blake did not ask her to leave and were truthfully very glad she had continued to live with them (most girls that left the orphanage wound up on the street or working at the parlour). They didn't even ask for rent, though she insisted on paying a small sum for her board and keep.
When not working, Sasha always spent time with the Blake's only son. She'd thought of him as something of an elder brother when they were children, but that had turned into infatuation when she was a teenager and later, love. It is no secret among staff at the orphanage or Sasha's circle of friends what her feelings toward the young Blake are and what his feelings towards her are, though neither of the two are able to recognize the feelings of the other. On Sasha's part, she would very much like him to stay oblivious to her feelings. She believes it would only cause the end of their friendship, which is the only relationship of theirs she will ever have to cherish as her class standing makes her unsuitable for him.
NAME: Paige
AGE: 19
YEARS ROLEPLAYING: About 5
DO YOU AGREE TO THE RULES OF LOVE?: Yes
DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE RP TERMS UNDER RP: ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW?: Yes
HOW'D YOU FIND US?: One of the helpers that created this site
DATE: 07/17/14
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
Sasha sat upon the round stool, her legs crossed at the ankle as she awaited the deliberation of the sorting hat. It was a shock to hear the voice suddenly enter her ears, though she now had an answer as to why all the students before her had seemed to jump ever so slightly shortly after the hat was placed upon their heads. "What do we have inside here," the voice asked, and she wondered what it meant exactly. Older students from the orphanage had only briefly described the sorting ceremony, and she could remember one very clearly saying that the hat could see inside your mind. She wondered if that meant the hat could see what she was thinking at that very moment or hear it, however it worked for it.
"Curiosity killed the cat," the voice said, and it seemed to chuckle for a moment afterwards. She still wasn't sure if the hat was actually reading the thoughts that were crossing her mind at that very moment, but it certainly seemed to be. "Not a very willing student. Loyalty...there's some ambition, I see. You want to find your parents? Raise yourself up from your low-class standing?" the hat asked. 'No', she thought defiantly. That wasn't what she wanted. Or was it? Was it that the hat could see deep inside to your inner thoughts that even you didn't know were there? Either way, she decided it did not matter.
The hat was wrong. She did not wish to find her parents, though she could not help but admit to herself that not being looked down upon for being 'low-class' was something she had fantasized about on occasion. "I don't need any parents," she mumbled, trying to assure herself that she did not want to seek out the two mystery figures like the hat presumed. "I'm fine just as I am, low-class and an orphan," she continued, her fingers curling around the wood of the stool she sat on, gripping on tightly as she denied the accusations.
"No? Then perhaps not so loyal. Loyalty in blood...no, no. Hufflepuff might do, but Slytherin seems a match more so," the hat mused to itself. Sasha fidgeted on the stool, tempted to remove the hat and forget the sorting altogether - to just return back to the orphanage where she felt most comfortable. "And you're sure you'll be able to pick the right house for me? You're just a hat that reads minds. How does that really help you pick the right house? And you're quite old," she told the hat, the words slipping from the tip of tongue before she had time to shove them back down her throat and not speak at all.
She was sure she'd made the hat angry with her question of its' ability. The long pause filled with nothing but silence spoke for itself. But then, a long shout of 'Slytherin' was heard, followed by cheers and clapping. The hat was removed from her head by the Deputy Headmaster and she was directed towards the Slytherin table, where a blond-haired boy who'd been sorted before her already sat and was scowling. Ignoring the scowl she was receiving, she glanced back towards the hat, watching as it was placed upon yet another student's head. It seemed to wear a devious grin, if hats could have devious grins. Turning once more to face the students at the Slytherin table as she took a seat among them, Sasha thought that the hat had most definitely been angry with her.
"Curiosity killed the cat," the voice said, and it seemed to chuckle for a moment afterwards. She still wasn't sure if the hat was actually reading the thoughts that were crossing her mind at that very moment, but it certainly seemed to be. "Not a very willing student. Loyalty...there's some ambition, I see. You want to find your parents? Raise yourself up from your low-class standing?" the hat asked. 'No', she thought defiantly. That wasn't what she wanted. Or was it? Was it that the hat could see deep inside to your inner thoughts that even you didn't know were there? Either way, she decided it did not matter.
The hat was wrong. She did not wish to find her parents, though she could not help but admit to herself that not being looked down upon for being 'low-class' was something she had fantasized about on occasion. "I don't need any parents," she mumbled, trying to assure herself that she did not want to seek out the two mystery figures like the hat presumed. "I'm fine just as I am, low-class and an orphan," she continued, her fingers curling around the wood of the stool she sat on, gripping on tightly as she denied the accusations.
"No? Then perhaps not so loyal. Loyalty in blood...no, no. Hufflepuff might do, but Slytherin seems a match more so," the hat mused to itself. Sasha fidgeted on the stool, tempted to remove the hat and forget the sorting altogether - to just return back to the orphanage where she felt most comfortable. "And you're sure you'll be able to pick the right house for me? You're just a hat that reads minds. How does that really help you pick the right house? And you're quite old," she told the hat, the words slipping from the tip of tongue before she had time to shove them back down her throat and not speak at all.
She was sure she'd made the hat angry with her question of its' ability. The long pause filled with nothing but silence spoke for itself. But then, a long shout of 'Slytherin' was heard, followed by cheers and clapping. The hat was removed from her head by the Deputy Headmaster and she was directed towards the Slytherin table, where a blond-haired boy who'd been sorted before her already sat and was scowling. Ignoring the scowl she was receiving, she glanced back towards the hat, watching as it was placed upon yet another student's head. It seemed to wear a devious grin, if hats could have devious grins. Turning once more to face the students at the Slytherin table as she took a seat among them, Sasha thought that the hat had most definitely been angry with her.