Post by Yasmina Reza on May 28, 2009 23:32:16 GMT -5
{I CANT BELIEVE THE NEWS TODAY}
{AND THE BATTLES JUST BEGUN}
FULL NAME: Yasmina Alaoui Reza
AGE: Twenty three
YEAR or OCCUPATION: Divination Professor
BIRTHDAY: January 21
SCHOOL/FORMER SCHOOL: Beauxbatons & Hogwarts
HOUSE/FORMER HOUSE: Ravenclaw
FAMILY:
Mahmoud Reza - Father, 52, works for the French Minister of Magic
Genevieve Reza - Mother, committed suicide ten years ago at the age of 37, author
ANYTHING ELSE:
Yasmina was born in Marseilles, France to an Iranian father and a French mother. Her father worked very closely with the Ministry of Magic while her mother was an acclaimed French author. At the age of eleven, Yasmina began school at Beauxbatons - her mother's alma mater. She flourished there and at the age of twelve had her talents were recognized. All of her life, she had seen things. She attempted to tell her parents a time or two, but they claimed that their daughter had an avid imagination. Her mother saw this as a sign that she might one day be a writer as well. However, during the Christmas holiday during her second year, she had a vision so vivid that it shook her from her sleep. She saw her mother looking directly at her, begging for help - her mouth open in a silent scream. And then there was nothing. She was staying at a friend's home and when she awoke sobbing, her friend ran for her grandmother, who happened to be a seer. The wizened woman explained to Yasmina what she was and who she was. Her life has never been the same sense. A year later, her mother drowned herself. Genevieve had always been a troubled woman and between a daughter who kept seeing her death, a husband who did not seem to care for her, and the inability to conceive again, it was all too much. Yasmina did not even need to be told that her mother had died, for she had seen it in her own mind. Her father, ill equipped to handle a child on his own, sent his daughter to live in England with his relatives, transferring her to Hogwarts. Her keen intelligence landed her in Ravenclaw with Divination as a favorite subject. She has now returned to teach the subject. There are times when she sees her ability as a curse, but she knows it is part of who she is.
PB: Nicole Trunfio
{WE EAT AND DRINK WHILE TOMORROW THEY DIE}
It had been a little more than an hour since the Rajastani caravan had left Littlebury. It was more than enough time for Amirah to get over her irritation at being insulted by a mere lady of the court and to draft a letter to her brother stating the infraction. Things such as utter disrespect towards a royal simply did not happen in Rajastan. As she had mentioned ever so subtly to the girl - in Amirah's country, she could have lost her tongue.
All of that aside, however, Amirah was nothing but thrilled to be growing nearer to Primrose Palace. While she enjoyed traveling to other parts of the world, she despised the actual act of getting somewhere. She was not like many women she saw in these parts and kept to her carriage rather than saddling her own horse. She was an able horsewoman and had a beautiful Marwari mare, Kala, who was currently being housed in the royal stables. Still, being inside a carriage had always seemed more dignified. The late spring air, however, had left the inside of the carriage stifling for most of the journey. Even now, nearing dusk, it seemed sticky inside. For the third time that day, Amirah thanked Bhagavān for her sari rather than the cumbersome dresses of these women.
The gentle rocking of the carriage came to a stop and Amirah waited for the doors to be opened. As was customary in her culture, Amirah would not exit the finely gilded carriage until someone had come to greet her. For all her knowledge, there could have been someone outside already, but it was dark and her red silk shades were pulled clothes and she did not dare peek outside. Instead, she adjusted the piece of cloth that draped over her shoulder. Waiting patiently, she studied the sepia toned designs all over the palms of her hands. The henna designs were starting to fade a bit and would need to be replaced soon. Perhaps she would have her maids try a different pattern - more modern this time rather than the traditional designs that stretched over her skin at the moment.
For the first time, Amirah felt a pang of nervousness as she waited. This was the first time she had been sent to deal with a matter of foreign affairs rather than her brother. It was not that her father did not trust her abilities. Amirah ruled over her late husband's province with authority and grace. She was what kept Haveli afloat during uncertain times. Still, she could not help but be a bit apprehensive. Remembering the woman in the market square, she briefly wondered if all courtiers of this duchy would be so rude. It could not be the case. The royal palace was settled in this duchy and, even only being here a fortnight, Amirah had found most everyone to be quite pleasant. Still, whether the Duke and his daughter be kind and welcoming or cold and rude, this was an important venture. Rajastan did not make ties with just any nation - especially not any particular region. Her father must think very highly of Devonshire to have sent her here. She would do Rajastan proud. Suddenly, she regretted her arrival at sundown. Her entourage would have been far more impressive during the day. Her golden gilded carriage would have glinted in the sun. She doubted that anyone here had seen a carriage in such a particular style. Here, people traveled in such large and spacious coaches and had all of their attendants with them. Amirah had her own chariot that no other would be allowed to ride. It had curtains all around that could be removed if she wished to see the public. Off of the back was a marvelous peacock tail made of gold and bejeweled. It had been added for the trip to Devoveo. The coaches that carried her servants were not as nice, but still quite extravagant. Each was pulled by a team of Marwari horses. Each horse was adorned with festive jewelry. They certainly were a sight to behold.
Finally, Amirah heard the voice of Ranbir, her personal body guard speak from the outside. Someone from the palace must have arrived to greet her. She straightened the veil that covered her head as she heard her name announced. Rani Amirah Kandhale of Rajastan and Haveli. The man's deep voice bellowed. It was a rare occurrence that Ranbir allowed Amirah to be more than fifteen feet away from him and his presence reassured her. She felt her nerves leave as the carriage door was opened. Ranbir's rough hand was extended to her and she took it as she exited. Steadying herself on the ground, she looked up to see who had come out to meet her.
hi, my name is Anhele and i joined because I enjoy the Riddle Era.
{AND THE BATTLES JUST BEGUN}
FULL NAME: Yasmina Alaoui Reza
AGE: Twenty three
YEAR or OCCUPATION: Divination Professor
BIRTHDAY: January 21
SCHOOL/FORMER SCHOOL: Beauxbatons & Hogwarts
HOUSE/FORMER HOUSE: Ravenclaw
FAMILY:
Mahmoud Reza - Father, 52, works for the French Minister of Magic
Genevieve Reza - Mother, committed suicide ten years ago at the age of 37, author
ANYTHING ELSE:
Yasmina was born in Marseilles, France to an Iranian father and a French mother. Her father worked very closely with the Ministry of Magic while her mother was an acclaimed French author. At the age of eleven, Yasmina began school at Beauxbatons - her mother's alma mater. She flourished there and at the age of twelve had her talents were recognized. All of her life, she had seen things. She attempted to tell her parents a time or two, but they claimed that their daughter had an avid imagination. Her mother saw this as a sign that she might one day be a writer as well. However, during the Christmas holiday during her second year, she had a vision so vivid that it shook her from her sleep. She saw her mother looking directly at her, begging for help - her mouth open in a silent scream. And then there was nothing. She was staying at a friend's home and when she awoke sobbing, her friend ran for her grandmother, who happened to be a seer. The wizened woman explained to Yasmina what she was and who she was. Her life has never been the same sense. A year later, her mother drowned herself. Genevieve had always been a troubled woman and between a daughter who kept seeing her death, a husband who did not seem to care for her, and the inability to conceive again, it was all too much. Yasmina did not even need to be told that her mother had died, for she had seen it in her own mind. Her father, ill equipped to handle a child on his own, sent his daughter to live in England with his relatives, transferring her to Hogwarts. Her keen intelligence landed her in Ravenclaw with Divination as a favorite subject. She has now returned to teach the subject. There are times when she sees her ability as a curse, but she knows it is part of who she is.
PB: Nicole Trunfio
{WE EAT AND DRINK WHILE TOMORROW THEY DIE}
It had been a little more than an hour since the Rajastani caravan had left Littlebury. It was more than enough time for Amirah to get over her irritation at being insulted by a mere lady of the court and to draft a letter to her brother stating the infraction. Things such as utter disrespect towards a royal simply did not happen in Rajastan. As she had mentioned ever so subtly to the girl - in Amirah's country, she could have lost her tongue.
All of that aside, however, Amirah was nothing but thrilled to be growing nearer to Primrose Palace. While she enjoyed traveling to other parts of the world, she despised the actual act of getting somewhere. She was not like many women she saw in these parts and kept to her carriage rather than saddling her own horse. She was an able horsewoman and had a beautiful Marwari mare, Kala, who was currently being housed in the royal stables. Still, being inside a carriage had always seemed more dignified. The late spring air, however, had left the inside of the carriage stifling for most of the journey. Even now, nearing dusk, it seemed sticky inside. For the third time that day, Amirah thanked Bhagavān for her sari rather than the cumbersome dresses of these women.
The gentle rocking of the carriage came to a stop and Amirah waited for the doors to be opened. As was customary in her culture, Amirah would not exit the finely gilded carriage until someone had come to greet her. For all her knowledge, there could have been someone outside already, but it was dark and her red silk shades were pulled clothes and she did not dare peek outside. Instead, she adjusted the piece of cloth that draped over her shoulder. Waiting patiently, she studied the sepia toned designs all over the palms of her hands. The henna designs were starting to fade a bit and would need to be replaced soon. Perhaps she would have her maids try a different pattern - more modern this time rather than the traditional designs that stretched over her skin at the moment.
For the first time, Amirah felt a pang of nervousness as she waited. This was the first time she had been sent to deal with a matter of foreign affairs rather than her brother. It was not that her father did not trust her abilities. Amirah ruled over her late husband's province with authority and grace. She was what kept Haveli afloat during uncertain times. Still, she could not help but be a bit apprehensive. Remembering the woman in the market square, she briefly wondered if all courtiers of this duchy would be so rude. It could not be the case. The royal palace was settled in this duchy and, even only being here a fortnight, Amirah had found most everyone to be quite pleasant. Still, whether the Duke and his daughter be kind and welcoming or cold and rude, this was an important venture. Rajastan did not make ties with just any nation - especially not any particular region. Her father must think very highly of Devonshire to have sent her here. She would do Rajastan proud. Suddenly, she regretted her arrival at sundown. Her entourage would have been far more impressive during the day. Her golden gilded carriage would have glinted in the sun. She doubted that anyone here had seen a carriage in such a particular style. Here, people traveled in such large and spacious coaches and had all of their attendants with them. Amirah had her own chariot that no other would be allowed to ride. It had curtains all around that could be removed if she wished to see the public. Off of the back was a marvelous peacock tail made of gold and bejeweled. It had been added for the trip to Devoveo. The coaches that carried her servants were not as nice, but still quite extravagant. Each was pulled by a team of Marwari horses. Each horse was adorned with festive jewelry. They certainly were a sight to behold.
Finally, Amirah heard the voice of Ranbir, her personal body guard speak from the outside. Someone from the palace must have arrived to greet her. She straightened the veil that covered her head as she heard her name announced. Rani Amirah Kandhale of Rajastan and Haveli. The man's deep voice bellowed. It was a rare occurrence that Ranbir allowed Amirah to be more than fifteen feet away from him and his presence reassured her. She felt her nerves leave as the carriage door was opened. Ranbir's rough hand was extended to her and she took it as she exited. Steadying herself on the ground, she looked up to see who had come out to meet her.