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ROSALIE KUROKAWA
Muggleborn Witch
Age
23
Wizfriends
4



Occupation
Professional Quidditch Player
Birthdate
August 3, 1994
Lives in
England
Sexuality
Pansexual
Status
Single
Significant other
None
Alias
Willow

OWL STATUS
Last Active: Jun 11 2018, 02:02 AM
just found out i'm on the American team for the Quidditch World Cup! 😎 💪

i.
It's storming outside when Rosalie is born, which is rare for the arid California climate. Her father always said that rain is a blessing, and Rosalie's birth brought that blessing down to earth. She is named for her great-grandmother, Rosaline Carmichael, on her mother's side, but her last name is legally her father's: Kurokawa.

The Carmichaels, a family of old traditions and even older money, disapprove of their heiress's choice of a husband. He's a Japanese immigrant, a man with a modest income who works at a bank. Felicity Carmichael, caught up in the raptures of young love, eloped with the man secretly before her family convinced her to return.

The family had hoped to arrange a quick divorce that allowed Felicity to keep all her rightful money, but that was before she announced her pregnancy.

Needless to say, Rosalie's birth is not welcome by everyone.

ii.
"Daddy!" Suguru Kurokawa is home from work, and Rosie is running up to him on little legs, arms open for a hug. He smiles and sweeps her off her feet, resting her body on his hip to find his wife in the kitchen.

Felicity smiles at her husband, but it's a tired one. Rosie is a pure bundle of energy, and her grandparents haven't answered her mother's request for rent money. Living in California is not the cheapest thing for the little family.

"We can move," Suguru urges his wife, "I can find work elsewhere. We can finally get away from your parents."

Felicity protests this, for however much she claims to dislike her family, she doesn't want to be far from them. She's holding out for some kindness, some mercy from the Carmichaels.

"Once they see Rosie, they'll love her," she says, stroking her daughters thick brown hair. "They'll come around, I promise."

iii.
Nine-year-old Rosalie is sweaty and out-of-breath as her team scores the final goal. The Southwest Elementary Stingrays are victorious, and she runs over to her teammates to embrace them in excitement.

Soccer is her favorite thing nowadays; she seems to live and breathe it. Neither of her parents were very interested in sports, so it's surprising when she starts to cultivate an interest in foreign teams and cups. She joined a team in second grade and never looked back.

She turns to the edges of the field, expecting to see her father, who attends all her games. Rosie does spot him, but he's not looking at her. Instead, he's talking to two old people in fancy clothing who both look unhappy with their current location.

Later, she walks up to the trio, hair wild and face tinted red with sunburn. She doesn't say anything to the old people, but grabs at her father's shirt to get his attention. He looks down at her and smiles, putting a hand to her back.

"Here she is," he says excitedly, almost pushing her towards the two strangers, "Rosie, meet your grandparents." She didn't know she had grandparents. She'd asked about them before, but Felicity and Suguru always seemed to change the subject. In her imagination, her grandparents were warm, kind people that baked cookies, like in the movies.

These grandparents do not resemble her imagination. They look down at her imperiously, and though her grandma reaches her hand out to shake Rosie's, Rosie doesn't want to take it.

"Come on, say hi." Suguru's mouth twitches in an awkward smile. "She's just shy around people she doesn't know." Rosalie knows this isn't true; she has many friends and isn't afraid to talk to new people. She just doesn't like these new people.

"Hi," she says quietly, and her grandma smiles, at least. "I'm Rosie," she adds (the smile gave her a bit more confidence).

"Hello, Rosalie," her grandpa says, and he steps closer to give her an awkward hug.

She's never had grandparents before. Maybe they wouldn't be so bad.

iv.
The sound of the ocean soothes Rosalie's heated pulse, but cannot soothe her completely. Her bare toes dig into the grainy sand, and she tries to keep digging and digging until her mind stops racing so maddeningly.

She had been visiting the Carmichael's seaside villa, for her weekly etiquette lessons. The lessons had been a requirement by her grandparents in exchange for monetary support, and Rosie had been hating every second.

Forced to quit soccer, Rosalie was wrestled into dresses and fancy chairs and taught how to be a proper lady. There were numerous lessons, all for silly things like walking, talking, and drinking tea. The piano lessons weren't so bad, she supposed, but sitting at that bench all day was boring.

The instructor that taught Rosie food and drink etiquette, who Rosie liked to call the TEAcher, had been forcing her to practice pouring tea for guests. The teapot was large and heavy, and every time Rosalie tried to pour correctly, the instructor would find a flaw and tell her to start all over.

After the sixth time the teacher reprimanded her, Rosie broke. "If I'm so horrible at this, why don't you do it instead?!" She slammed the teapot down on the table, making the teacups rattle in their saucers.

"Miss Carmichael!! You will sit down and listen or else—"

"My name is Kurokawa! Rosie Kurokawa!" The teacups' rattling was raucous, and the noise kept increasing as Rosie kept screaming until suddenly, the teacups shattered.

Shards of china flew across the room, and although the teacher put their arms up to protect themselves, an unlucky piece sliced through their cheek.

The room was silent. Slowly, the instructor put their arms down, eyes wide and frightened. Their hands were trembling, and so were Rosie's. Blood seeped from the cut on their cheek, but it was shallow. Footsteps thundered through the house; people must have heard the screaming.

Rosalie had run out of the room, down the grand staircase, and out the front door without anyone spotting her.

Sitting by the sea calms her, but only so much. How had the teacups shattered? Had that really been her? Were her grandparents going to hate her now?

Rosalie could only dig her toes in the sand and wonder.

v.
Ilvermorny is beautiful, freeing, and the best place Rosalie has ever known.

Far, far away from the Carmichaels, on the East Coast, Rosalie finds her place, finds everything she ever felt was missing from her life.

She learns about magical culture, of all the impossible things she could have been doing throughout her childhood. Ilvermorny feels more like home than her home had felt for years.

And her true love, her unwavering passion, the final puzzle piece to a life that once felt so confusing and wretched, is Quidditch.

In the air, she feels powerful and liberated, like nothing can touch her. The speed and skill with which she uses her broom to maneuver the field and get the Quaffle through hoops nabs her the title of MVP almost every year she plays on the Wampus house team. Schoolwork is fine and all, but everything else matters little when compared to Quidditch. Her teammates are her best friends, the feeling of her hands grasping the Quaffle the best feeling in the world. In the air and at Ilvermorny, nothing can touch her.

During summers and holidays, however, the situation is entirely different. Her father still smiles at her, but smiles weakly, and the Carmichaels treat her coldly. Felicity Kurokawa has distanced herself as well, still hoping for her family's forgiveness.

When Rosie is scouted for a professional team in her seventh year, she doesn't hesitate to say yes.

vi.
The roar of the crowd swells as the Quaffle sails from Rosie's hand through the middle hoop. She brings a fist up and speeds low over the stands, posing on her broom a few times for the cameras. The paparazzi following her around took a bit getting used to, but Rosie loves the attention.

After her team, the Hoboken Hippogriffs, finishes the game with a resounding victory, Rosie is told that someone's waiting outside the locker room to talk to her. As she changes from her dirty robes, her mind races as she wonders who it could be. A fan, probably. But usually security keeps them away from the locker rooms. An old friend from Ilvermorny? Or maybe someone closer...Someone from her family?

No one from her family, not even her father, has attended a Quidditch game of hers. Either they are intimidated by the magical world, or they're just that disappointed in her. Maybe they've changed their minds, though. Maybe they've finally decided to accept her. Excitement has built in her chest at this prospect, and she leaves the locker room with a grin on her face.

An unfamiliar face is the one that greets her by name, and the excitement fades away to get replaced with disappointment. The man's voice is accented as he offers her a position as the highest-paid Chaser on the Appleby Arrows.

"What the hell is an Appleby?" she responds, expression quizzical.

A few minutes later, and Rosalie Kurokawa is the highest-paid Chaser on the Appleby Arrows Quidditch team, based in Appleby, UK.
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