Judgment.

Hela Kvalheim

Member
Messages
8
Sexual Orientation
Demisexual
Age
11/2025
There was no reason why Hela Zhefarovich should be in Bleak Street. While her aunt was shopping at one of the local stores here, Hela was given permission to walk around. Standing at five feet seven, with a hood draped over her head, the Bulgarian and Russian girl slowly made her way through the dark alleys. Rayna had been the mother that Hela always hoped for, and even with the father figure, it was still different. Her mother was killed by an auror long ago, and she once vowed vengeance upon the auror that was responsible. That is until her grandmother told her about the auror, and how he was related. How could she even try to get rid of an uncle on the mother’s side? It was a complicated situation. And it brought up so many questions. Hela paused her walking while she tied the black ribbon around her single braid. It became loose and she needed to fix it. Her light blue eyes that she apparently inherited from her father looked up to make sure that no one was going to try to mess with her. The last thing she wanted was to waste her energy on someone that was inferior.

She tugged on the hood and continued her walk. Her heeled boots lightly tapped the concrete as she made her way toward the lighter area of New Zealand. Hela kept her hood concealed, before she felt a slight bump, as she accidently side swiped someone. Her head turned over her shoulder to apologize to the person she bumped into. She took a moment to say anything, while she focused on speaking English, "My apologizes." Hela's tone was very soft, almost gentle. It wasn't that she didn't lack the coldness that the family carried with her. She could sound like a lady if she wanted to. It would be a useful skill when she was able to cast magic outside of the school.
 
Matthew had not set foot back in Bleak street since his run in Chaos almost a year ago and he hadn't planned on returning, not wanting to run into Chaos or any of his family, the ones who knew who he was at least. Circumstances however had brought him back to the less than reputable street. In his new job not everything he needed was readily available in the shops of Obsidian harbour. So far that was the only draw back of his new job, it was some freak coincidence that just as he graduated hia mother began dating a guy who knew people, a couple of conversations a hand shake later Matthew was studying dragons. He still couldn't quite believe how quickly everything had happened.

As with the last time he was in Bleak street Matthew was drawing looks, even now, and with a reason to be on the street the young man was out of place with its inhabitants and regulars. Thankfully Matthew had already secured what he needed and was on his way out of Bleak street. He hoped his work wouldn't bring him back to Bleak street often. As he made his way upbthe street he felt someone nudge last him, he turned to see who it was. It was a girl, pretty, young, maybe around Alana's age. No good could come of talking to a girl that young now he was out of school. "No no, my fault, I wasn't exactly looking whereI was going,"
 
Hela slowly lifted the hood off of her head and revealed the entirety of her pale face. From where she has been, it was clear that she did not see the sun much in her life. Her skin was almost as white as snow. Her eyes were bright, but curious. Who was this fellow? He looked interesting to say the least. She moved her braid over her right shoulder, and wondered how old the boy was in front of her. Luckily, she was tall enough to be considered older, but her eyes said something different. She was young. A simple teenager. She gave a small smile, before saying, "I had my hood down so much, I could barely see." Hela took a step closer to the stranger, but still being on her guard. After all, a Death Eater did teach her how to hold her own. "My name is Hela Zhefarovich. This is my first time visiting this land. Can't understand why such a small faction of my family chooses to live here." Hela would never understand that. She loved Bulgaria so much. Her heart rested there, and she only left it on occasion, such as now, when her aunt and adopted mother decided to travel.
 
New Zealand, and more specifically Bleak Street, was Araxfell's home now. It had been just over a year since he stepped food on Kiwi soil, and for the simple fact that it was a place he'd chosen to be, he loved it. Living with Yevheniy Kharchenko was quiet and relatively peaceful, so long as he got out of the Ukranian's way when he'd been drinking. Nothing about the dank, twisting alleyways of Bleak repulsed him after he'd come to know the area, and he'd taken to drinking firewhiskey in the tavern six doors down from his flat and making useful friends. Some days, like today, he sat outside on one of the rusty 'cafe' tables and people-watched, and occasionally he glimpsed a situation like the one unfolding before him.
A slender but tall figure in a hooded cloak swept up the street purposefully, inexpertly dodging other walkers and generally sticking out like a sore thumb. Araxfell watched with mild interest as another figure approached from the opposite direction and made to pass him or her, but failed as the cloaked person nudged them with their shoulder.
Arax was less apathetic to the scene once the hood came down to reveal what was quite possibly an angel. The man and the woman looked like night and day, one dark haired and the other with hair so blonde it was almost white. He took a sip of his drink and slowly closed his eyes long-sufferingly as the gist of the conversation drifted to his ears.


"-looking where I was going."
"-barely see ... Hela Zhefarovich ... first time visiting ...can't understand why-"

This was not the first time Araxfell had had to play rescuer to a 'damsel in distress' (to a damsel who should've known to be distressed). No man of good character would stop and talk to a girl that young in a place like this, though Arax estimated her to be only a few years younger than himself. The man's back was to him so he couldn't be sure of his age, but the Danish man was not impressed, regardless.
Shaking his head at himself inwardly, Arax wondered why he always had to get involved. It was probably his mother and sister's influence- good young men were quiet, steadfast, and always ready and willing to defend a lady, he was taught.
"Hela!" he called out with as much familiarity as he could muster, abandoning his firewhiskey on the table. "We were supposed to meet in half an hour- you've gone too far down the road," Araxfell told her as he approached the two. Merlin willing, the girl would play along so he could usher her into Obsidian safely. "Let's go back to the Harbour before it gets too late to walk any more."
OOCOut of Character:
Sorry about the length, I'm always over exuberant when scene setting. It'll be reasonable after this.
 
It was her name that stuck out the most about her. Zhefarovich. Of all people, he seemed to be making a habit of bumping into members of the Zhefarovich family in Bleak street. He would do well to avoid the street in future. That being said, the girl seemed rather pleasant, a far cry from Chaos. Her use of the word faction suggested that she may not even know Chaos, she clearly wasn't from New Zealand and didn't seem particularly keen on her new surroundings. When she said she hadn't seen him because she had her hood up he smiled at her, "It's ok, we're both as bad as each other," When her hood had come doen Matthew was quite stunned by how beautiful she was, but it was not something he would dwell on. "You can't have seen much of New Zealand, it's a beautiful country," Matthew was a big fan of New Zealand and he was happy that he had got to see so much more of it since graduating Hogwarts. Before long they were joined by someone else who appeared as if he knew the girl but he was a little uneasy about his sudden appearance, "Friend of yours Hela?" He asked the girl.
 
Hela listened as the man, not even being polite enough to introduce himself. Quite rude, in her opinion. She blamed on the fact that she was absolutely gorgeous. Hela knew this, and was not vain about it. Before she could comment on how she agreed with the country and demand for the man's name, someone else called her about her own name. Hela turned her head toward the other stranger, not recognizing him and not exactly hiding it from her eyes. Hela looked down at the ground before she wondered if this boy that she talked to first was dangerous. Hela couldn't decide on what she wanted to do. The other one was obviously listening in and heard her name from it. Hela bit her lip as her brain contemplating on what she wanted to do. Hela suddenly smiled, "Yes, he is. We played together all the time growing up. In fact," Hela walked over to the other stranger and placed her lips firmly on his for a moment. "We adore each other." She placed her hand upon the stranger's smooth cheek. Inexperienced. She got that from the kiss. "Although, I would like to know your name, mister." She was looking toward the man that first found her.
 
Araxfell knew he was in over his head the moment the enchanting young lady placed her lips upon his. She'd prefaced the kiss by playing along with his little story, but the fact that she took it a step further proved to him that she'd not gotten the warning beneath the improvisation. He tried to look as though he'd been expecting her affectionate greeting, but he only succeeded in looking stunned.
Arax looked at the other man, his brown eyes wide with bewilderment, and finally said "You'd best give the lady what she asks for; she will get what she wants one way or another."

Araxfell took it for granted that his statement was true despite not knowing her as well as he was starting to want to. For some reason that was beyond him, she'd decided on a kiss, and she'd gone and done it. Overall, Arax did not approve of non-consensual kissing, but that was where the truth of his words came in. Hela had gotten what she wanted and the two men opposite her were being swept along by her whim.
 
Matthew wasn't completely sure that the two in front of him really did know each other, though why the girl would play along with a stranger he didn't know, but in truth he didn't care that much. He was quite surprised when Hela kissed the other guy and by the look on his face so was he, so much for knowing each other. "She clearly does," He muttered to the guy before turning his attention back to the girl. "Sorry, I was distracted, my name is Matthew Cosgrove and I must say you're a lot more pleasant than the last Zhefarovich I met on this street," He grimaced thinking back to his run in with Chaos. That felt like an eternity ago.
 
Hela knew how to get what she wanted, and was glad that this one man knew that just by how she acted. Hela was gifted in ways, but she was also young at heart. She gave a little smile toward the one that said his name when she asked. Hela was more than happy to go with the inexperienced one, until Matthew said something that sparked her interest. He met someone in her family and lived? It must not have been an adult then. Or someone with a kinder heart. He was lucky. Hela inquired, "Which one of my family members did you meet? It wasn't a sibling of mine because I don't have any." That bit was true. Her mother only had Hela because Raisa hated children and never wanted any. Her father died months before she was born, but all she knew was that she hailed from a Russian family. Hela looked toward the other man and her smile vanished, "As for you, I do hope your blood status is worthy enough to have received affection from me." Hela was like her aunt Rayna. She sought after wizards with only magical heritage. What she meant was that she had better not just laid her lips on a mudblood.
 

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