May 26, 2019, 03:10:20 AM

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Britain / Re: the first frost of winter [gabriella]
« Last post by Gabriella Morfessa on Today at 02:55:41 AM »
“Of course that would also mean we were both being felonius just by taking the little shortcut...” she grinned softly, pleased with herself still at that little astute observation. Gabriella put the tools away momentarily, removing her hat, and tucking it under one arm, pulling the hat pins out carefully so as not to disturb her crown style braid. The wind was picking up again here, now that they were out of the woods, and seemed eager to lift it off her head. It wasn’t strong, but the hat was light enough that it wouldn’t have taken much. She smiled at him while carefully re-pinning her hat, their eyes meeting as he softly answered her, the petite woman’s heart melting a little at his words. Gabriella had felt lost without him, lately, even though he was right across the hall, and despite the current subject of their conversation, she could tell by his tone of voice that there was more behind them then a simple wrong turn in a maze.

Once done, gabriella pulled the tools back out and pulled the work gloves over her thin leather ones. They were soft enough that it didn’t impede her work any, at the very least. “Unfortunately it's been five years, so even if i did remember, i don’t know if there’s been transplants or plants that have died… though the leaves give away which ones are the Heritage Roses...” she made her way back to the back of the garden, the same place they’d been five years ago, pleased to see that their number had only grown. She didn’t have any of these back at the estate. “I might as well take a cutting from each of them. Have fun and see what sort of unique colors i get come spring.” she smiled up at him before crouching to examine the plants more closely.

It wasn’t hard, at least for her, to figure out what stems to cut for good grafting stock. Her O on her Herbology owl had to pay off somehow. She smiled a little at the thought, knowing full well that over the years it had paid off in other ways, but she’d never really considered a profession, one being forced upon her right out of school with no consideration for her own desires. And now, there wasn’t any need for it. If she wanted something, she had only to ask and dermod would be more than happy to provide it. It wasn’t as though they lacked for money. But she did wish there was some way other than tending to the vast gardens on the estate she could put her various skills to use. “Of course I’ll want to get these back to the estate rather quickly, although seeing as it is almost noon, we should head back soon regardless.”

There were only twenty of the Heritage roses, though from what Gabriella remembered there were several different colors and shades, though these would change based on what she grafted them onto. And that would be entirely coincidental. Some orangey peach colors would be nice, but in the end it would just be waiting for spring to see what she ended up with.  Straightening up, gabriella carefully placed the tools and gloves back in the bag with her cuttings, though her thoughts went back to the greenhouse she’d discovered with Cliona, wondering how hard it would be to find it again… “Dermod. Your sister took me on an adventure the other day, through a secret passage…. But there was a sitting room, with one wall entirely glass, that looked out on a greenhouse. Do you think you could help me find it again?”
Hogsmeade / Re: slow burn [harlan]
« Last post by Honey Bea Flume on Today at 02:47:20 AM »
Honey ignored the food for a minute, trying to figure out Harlan’s thought processes. This was new -- not trying to figure him out, but doing it during conversation -- and quite impossible, it seemed. They were agreeing that this was for the best, though Honey hadn’t fully convinced herself, and she thought -- hoped? -- that he wasn’t convinced either. Of course, sneaking around wasn’t for the best, nor cheating on whoever she moved onto next or going all in with Harlan. There wasn’t a best; if there was, it wouldn’t be limited to dumplings.

She took another large swallow of her drink before picking a dumpling at random, sticking to one of the dipping sauces she knew to be the mildest, effectively distracting herself from watching Harlan’s reaction. She had thought it impossible for men to be done with her if she wasn’t done with them first, even though her present company had ended things (multiple times) with her. He was right to do it then, and he was right when he spoke now. She laughed, despite herself. “I did, didn’t I?” Smirking, she glanced up at him and shrugged. It hadn’t even just been Harlan -- there were others before he had come back into the picture -- but she could only be so honest in one night.

It was worth it, she supposed, and she thought that Harlan was about to say the same as he leaned in; she dropped her gaze as he reached for another dumpling and she hid any disappointment in her glass.

“Oh, I’ve got a date with the Griffins’ better beater next week.” She shrugged, turning her glass around on the table. She wasn’t serious, not really. From what she could tell, @Roxanna Rathbone wasn’t really her type. “And I’ve invited Rita Skeeter as our third so,” she shrugged again and took another drink. “Consider this your heads up.” She was smiling as she set her glass down.

Usually about this time, Honey would start to worry about all the spicy food Harlan was having -- spicy food meant spicy kisses -- but this was not that sort of night. It was for the best, or whatever. “Really, though.” She picked up another dumpling, holding onto it as she continued. “No list, no plans. I’ve been behaving myself.” She popped the dumpling into her mouth with a smirk. It was easy to behave when she lived with her brother, anyway; how quickly she left to spend time with Harlan should have been a bit more concerning to her. “Did that article get you in trouble?” She stopped short of placing any of the blame on herself.
Trey accepted the bottle from him with a grin.  She had been pleasantly surprised that he had actually followed.  It wouldn't have left her too cut up if he hadn't but this was definitely the outcome she preferred.  Now she had whiskey and interesting company.  The witch had no idea where she wanted this chance encounter to end up but was just happy to see how things played out.  She enjoyed such unknown things.  It was exciting!

"Alright, you caught me."  The young blonde half turned so that her profile was facing the Englishman and she could look at him down the length of her shoulder.  Her posture was relaxed; she felt no shame or embarassment about the fib.  Besides, she'd assumed he was smart enough to have not really fallen for it anyway.  "I may have slightly exaggerated my authority to serve drinks..."   Pausing, she gave him a cheeky wink and a smile.  "Although technically, if I do have a bar that I tend, at home for instance, then I am a bartender...  It just so happens I wasn't actually a tender of that particular bar."  Laughing lightly, she took a swig of the stolen whiskey with satisfaction.  Trey thought it might even taste better now that it had been officially looted.

If this man was looking for more of an explanation, he was going to have to work a bit harder than that.  Even if she was inclined to share, the 'why' behind Trey was probably too complicated for casual conversation.  Besides she'd much rather deflect any questioning back on him.  "I think the more important issue here is, what on earth would possess you to follow me?"  Her tone was teasing but her eyes sparkled with real curiosity.  For all that she had encouraged him to follow, the young witch knew that most people wouldn't have done so.

"It was awfully gallant of you to return this to me."  Trey batted her eyelashes with mock meekness.  However, if he was looking to be some kind of hero he was in the wrong place.  The blonde witch was definitely no damsel in distress.  "I hope you realise this now makes you my accomplice though."  Her lips pulled up into a wide smirk as she leant over to offer him the bottle.  It was only fair that they share the spoils.

Laying down on her side, Trey regarded him steadily with light green eyes.  She rolled, arching her back to look at him upside down - as though from that angle the Englishman might make more sense.  Her expression was momentarily pensive as she thought about what to do next.  "I think I mentioned something about fun?"  She finally commented with a mischievous smile.  Reaching a hand down she cupped some water with her fingers and flicked it playfully at him.  "What do you like to do when your not being swept up in the antics of a stranger?  Mr ...?"  She let her words trail off questioningly to indicate this would be a good time for him to provide his name.  It would be nice to have something to call him, other than 'The Englishman' in her head. 

It occurred to her that if he failed to be any fun, she could always push him in the pool...
Barbie could feel her face turning pink with Nell’s praise; “Oh ,” she said, “Thank you.” She was grateful when the conversation turned back to the other girls’ costumes— recalling suddenly that Nell was Muggleborn, she rushed quickly to be helpful. “I’ve never met a vampire,” she said, “But you got the pale right, I reckon.” She didn’t really think a vampire would wear anything like what Nell was— it was dark and modest enough, sure, but very modern— but she wasn’t going to be rude.

She knew little about Síthmaith— they were in different houses and years— but the little she thought she’d heard hadn’t made her and Nell seem a likely pair. Nell’s smile at the words had seemed less like what Barbara imagined her own face to have looked all day, though— less sappy and pleased, and more knowing— and “sure” wasn’t a definite yes. (Wasn’t it? She couldn’t say. But then she could analyse it for the rest of the night and get nowhere.)

As the older students talked around her she busied herself with swishing the skirt of her dress back and forth, staring down at it with some embarrassment. Owain knew the girls far better than she did, and Barbara almost wished that Donna Russell would show up just so they could get back to swapping introductions and pleasantries, something she could do so much more easily than this. Luckily Nell seemed to catch on, belatedly, to her detachment; she suggested pointedly to Owain that the two head off first, and that the Slytherins could tag behind. (Barbie cast a look downward at Síthmaith’s shoes, and understood quickly.) “Alright,” she said, in a small voice; “See you ‘round, then.” She squeezed Owain’s hand in her own, as if to signal him that she was by all means going to take this out.

She hadn’t meant to make anybody feel bad, at all— as she and Owain headed to the first house Barbie tried to determine whether she was right to feel so guilty. (She’d had all afternoon for her date, and it was selfish to be so glad that it would get to sort-of continue, if Nell and Síthmaith stayed tagging behind. But, at the same time, she was still very glad.)

Barbara took it upon herself to knock sharply on the door, since she had a free hand and Owain had an enormous cardboard Chocolate Frog card, and peered curiously over her shoulder to see whether the others were catching up. “Sorry if I scared ‘em off,” she said, less because she was and more because she wanted Owain to reassure her that she hadn’t.
Meredith’s heart swelled with pride as she saw Holden with the Quaffle in hand, making a run straight for the opposing goal posts.  She was not oblivious to his nerves approaching the match and had no idea whether any of her encouragement had gotten through to him.  It was a bold move to try and score so quickly.  The young witch couldn’t help holding her breath as she watched the ball soaring towards the leftmost hoop.  Would it make it in?!  Alas the Gryffindor Keeper skillfully blocked the shot and possession of the Quaffle was passed to Samuel, who had successfully dodged her Bludger.  She hadn’t missed the Chaser’s smile as he’d done so and had returned it along with a little disappointed shake of her head.  Her expression was still like ‘I want to knock you off your broom’ but in the friendliest way possible.  Ultimately Mere would prefer to get through the game without anyone suffering any physical harm but this was Quidditch and she had long since gotten over her squeamishness about bludger injuries.  (Just as long as she didn’t cop one to the face herself.)

Although Holden hadn’t succeeded in scoring, he had just shown that courage was not a trait exclusive to Gryffindor and Mere doubted that they would continue to underestimate her team.  The Hufflepuff players might be a bit younger and less experienced, but she liked to think that their devotion and heart more than made up for any gaps in their skillset.  Having had plenty of opportunities to train alongside professional Quidditch players herself, Meredith felt that she could handle her role with expertise.  The sport was undeniably a huge part of her life, never mind that she had no real aspirations to pursue it as a career.  Age and experience could not be relied upon to judge a players talent though – the famous Harry Potter himself had apparently been a great Seeker, and he had been both a First Year and completely ignorant of Quidditch when he started. 

The young blonde moved swiftly between the other players, able to turn and weave with just the slightest shifting of her body weight on the broomstick.  Although she was holding on with only one hand, the other grasping her bat firmly, she was perfectly comfortable.  Meredith had learnt to fly not altogether very long after learning to walk.  As she flew, her hazel eyes frequently scanned the area for bludgers, trying to keep them in her sights at all times, as well as observing the placements of the players.  Mere’s gaze sometimes lingered briefly on Murray where he hovered in front of the Hufflepuff goal posts but she made sure to watch her entire team.  As such, she was very happy to see Jari successful intercept the Quaffle bringing posession back to Hufflepuff.  They were all trying so hard!

As she was flying, a nearby bludger lined up nicely between Meredith and the Gryffindor Keeper.  Perfect!  Seeing the opportunity to attack, the blonde spun and dove towards the ball.  Taking a steadying breath, Meredith decided to try for a trickier shot.  She felt the vibrations of force running up her arm as her bat struck firmly again.  However, the momentum of her swing caused her to overbalance slightly.  Calmly she rolled with it, letting her action turn into a flip.  Laughing as she came back around to a horizontal position, Mere pushed her braid back over her shoulder and straightened up.  She was then pleased to see her move had paid off!  Having clipped the bludger in just the right spot on the side, it now spun in wild circles as it headed directly towards Janae.  Try blocking that! she thought with a smirk. 
Drawing her hooded cloak securely around her to keep out as much of the driving rain as possible, Aase hurried across the ground to the Greenhouses. She was looking forward to the first Herbology class of the term, even if it meant braving the raging thunderstorm: Professor Ajay was one of her favorites.

Slipping inside the glass doors, Aase pulled off her cloak and held it over a nearby plant as she shook off some of the excess water. Some of her hair had gotten damp regardless, plastering the little baby hairs that framed her face to her forehead, but by the looks of it most everyone was on the same page so she wasn’t too concerned. Following the lead of her classmates, the Prefect hung her cloak on a peg to dry; perhaps she’d hit it with a warming charm before she went back outside.

Gratefully Aase accepted a cup of tea with a bright smile in greeting. Just as she moved to take a place in front of one of the plants on the workbench, a familiar chirping noise met her ears. Aase turned towards the sound in time to see Loomley climbing down the vine from the windowsill and scuttling across the floor.
“Well hello, Loomley!” Aase crooned, crouching down and holding her palm out for the leaf-creature to clamber aboard if he so chose. “C’mon, we can’t have you getting stepped-on!”
She raised her hand to her shoulder and the creature happily clambered off, nibbling the hem of her robe curiously. He’d been a great comfort to her last term when the class had taken a scavenger-hunting trip into the Forbidden Forest, and Aase hadn’t been feeling so brave. Henry Murphy had also helped reassure her; she was thrilled he’d been made Head Boy, he certainly deserved it.

She stationed herself at an empty place at the workbench in front of a rather odd-looking plant that she recognized because of its unique appearance: rather like a sea urchin, in a way, with a dark brown bulb and a plethora of spindly green leaves that looked more like spines.

One by one they went down the line of plants on the workbench. Aase nodded along as she recalled some, and spent a few additional seconds studying those she had forgotten or didn’t remember learning about, trying to commit her classmates’ descriptions to memory.
Aase was next in line, after the two First Years and a few down from her cousin Pixie – and she was ready with her answer.
“This” – she pointed to the sea-urchin-lookalike – “is witch hazel. It’s most commonly used in a diluted solution as an antiseptic, mostly to clean minor cuts and scrapes. It shouldn’t be used more frequently than once per day, however, as it can dry out the area too much and interfere with the healing process.”
Ireland / Re: [MP] Nothing of the Thresher [Death Eaters]
« Last post by Jessica Jonasson on Today at 12:22:35 AM »
Jessica had done her best to ingratiate these people to her and, ultimately, to Nils, but really there was only so much one could say to people of this ilk. They had things in common, of course, but Gaius had made the Death Eaters (honestly, such a ridiculous name – had a child come up with it?) sound a lot more impressive than she had found them to be in person. Had they all been more like Gaius, perhaps she would have been more comfortable. She was beginning to wonder if this plan would really work – but then, what else were they going to do? It sounded like they had been all but disbanded up until now. They needed a cause, someone to fight for. Nils would be that man.

Gaius had barely gotten a word out and Melissa Knox—or was it Morgenstern again now?— had to chime in in her usual fashion. Jessica’s cold smile did not falter. She remained tight-lipped, for now. It would not do to fight back. As much as Jessica despised the woman, Nils had made a point that Gaius and Melissa were two people in this ‘organisation’ who could be counted upon, who could win the rest of them over to his cause. He needed these… Death Eaters… to help with his plans in Britain.

But they were bickering like children. Jessica drew back in her seat slightly, observing the way they responded to Gaius, and to each other. Her hands, folded neatly in her lap, tightened about each other at the mention of Gaius’ ‘high-end Swedish collar’; this was not going to plan.

There was the briefest of lulls in the ‘conversation’, if one could call it that. The eye of the storm. The tall blonde got to her feet following the mention of her name and smiled down the table, trying to ignore the overwhelming sensation that this would not work. It had to work – she could not fail him. “I feel you would all rather us cut to the chase,” she nodded at Gaius, indicating that she would take it from here, “so I will, rather than waste any more of your valuable time.”

“I am here on behalf of Mister Nils Nyström, the Swedish Minister for Magic. Mr Nyström worked tirelessly, and at great risk, to release one of your own, Mr Purcell, in what we hope will be the beginning of an… alliance between our causes.” Nils had told her that Gaius had practically run the British Ministry during Tom Riddle’s coup, but it seemed that even this did not give the people around this table reason to admire him the way they should.

“You lost your leader over four years ago, you have not selected a new one from within your ranks. You have, in fact, achieved very little in this time. If I am not mistaken this is the first occasion in which you have met since, in such numbers.” She could already see more than one person fit to burst forth with some objection, so she held up a solitary finger to halt them. “I, on behalf of Mr Nyström, offer you a chance to finally achieve what Tom Riddle failed to give you – not once, but twice. Mr Nyström would like to enlist your help to make this a better world for us – for the true magical peoples.”
London / Re: meet me in the woods tonight [ashley]
« Last post by Ashley Morigan on Today at 12:01:20 AM »
From the bar, Ashley had been peeking. He had seen Harri fiddle with her clothing and struggle to decide how to sit. He thought it was adorable, and had trouble getting that thought from his head. She wasn’t allowed to be cute and sweet and adorably awkward. He needed to remember, but for a moment he let himself relax with her and enjoy her presence. If only she wasn’t a werewolf. If only she was just a pretty girl he was taking on a date, things might go differently. He would have wanted to see her again, probably. He would have wanted to know her better. When she brought up the topic of him, he considered his words carefully. He didn’t like to give away too much.
“I’ve been here for a few years now.” He admitted. “Remember when that dome went up around Hogwarts? I heard there were creatures inside terrorizing people. I figured I could help and came over to rush in.” He admitted. “My family’s pretty well-known in America for beast hunting. My parents write books about their adventures, which is how they’re well-known. My dad’s brother and sister were both in the game, too, but they’ve kind of retired by now. My aunt spent 20 years hunting a Yeti in the Himalayas, and my uncle is pretty accomplished too, but now he’s paralyzed from the waist down. Nothing anyone can do. He was like a second dad to me, though, growing up. Taught me everything I know.”
He bit his lip, thinking  of his uncle. If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be there right now. He wouldn’t be in this situation. Even so, he knew that he was doing the right thing. He had been taught and brainwashed to think all werewolves were evil. He remembered what happened to Nadia, the girl he had one day hoped to marry. “I reckon I do miss the USA a bit. I travel there sometimes, but I’ve been exploring England for a few years, bopping around from place to place. Even there, I was never at home, it was always one motel or another.” He shrugged. “My parents traveled a lot as a kid. I got used to the idea that home’s wherever I am. What about you? You travel much?” He asked, watching her. He could see her eyes were a little glazed, but she wasn’t slurring yet. He wasn’t sure how drunk he wanted to get her, maybe just enough to make her take him up on his ride home.
Diagon Alley / Re: [MP] darkness at the edge [open]
« Last post by Korrine Ollivander on Yesterday at 11:17:05 PM »
Hearing the young wizard confessed his lack of knowledge, disappointed the well-aged witch. She believed any proper wizard, no matter their social background should make reading the Daily Prophet as part of their morning routine. Other then certain fanciful articles of horoscopes and fan letters which could be skimmed or skipped, every wizard should read it in full. It was in fact an adult wizards’ responsibility to be well informed of the social and political events of the whole wizarding world. Although Mr. Dickinson current deficiency could be overlooked, for it was just past noon and he might have saved the other part of the paper to entertain himself over his lunch. There was also a possibility that the one article of Purcell had disturbed him so much that he could not continue to read the surrounding articles. Taking in account of the state she had found him in, she thought this was the case.

Korrine took a bite of her sandwich and then sipped her tea as she listened to the young wizard as he shared his thoughts on the recently unveiled subject. Please that he at least expressed himself better than some of the figureheads she dealt with. When faced with a question to a topic they should be well informed in, most of them tend to jabber about their personal opinions, some unrelated issue or just regurgitate what was just whispered to them by their aid, all to cover their lack of knowledge. No, at least young Mr.Dickson had admitted his deficiency of the article and replied with an adequate, heartfelt but naive remark.

“I would agree. Peace is always preferable, but it could only be obtained by not only a balance of power and faction but a cohesiveness which only occurs when all the parties are working together towards the same goal.”  As she talked she gave a flick of her wand in the general direction of her house above the Ollivander's store front. Just as she finished her statement the door opened and a news paper which appeared to be reading inself walked out. It flipped a few pages as it made it's way to their table before folding itself up to a nice tiedy rectangle and placed itself between them. The witch gesture to the article in question as she stated, "It is only natural for the faction of Muggles to grow in sympathy and power after the events Britain suffered. This is rather obvious displayed by the Russian muggle party petitioning Wizengamot for 'a new platform of governance' assuming to allow their Muggle-born-Minister Krupin more power. One would hope that he had the whole of the Wizard community of Russian inmind, but the statement by the opposition seem so extreme I worry it may not be the case."

Korrine gave a sigh before continuing in a slightly lower tone as if she was confessing more intimate thoughts. "Then I couldn't help but to notice the paper just opposed this article with the one describing the Japan agreement with Sweden. At minimal, the article is a boast of an alliance and appears to be purely social growth and economical driven. But given the Swedish Ministers actions and willingness to host the non-muggleborn school, it seems the country's factions are swinging the opposing direction of Russia. I know, I know, it is all assumptions and feelings."

Korrine gave a dismissive wave as if she did not want to hear her companions reaction to this statement, but she actually did. She had hesitated to bring these perceptions up to Garrick for fear it might cause more worry or stress that which could potentially reverse his progressing recovery. Yet, she had not been able to shake the feeling that factions were brewing and felt the need to share them with someone. There was also a bit more insight that all of this was stemedform. Last summer, Korrine had a chance to meet, or more accurately TRY to meet the Swedish Minister Nils Nyström in regarding to her humanity efforts to rebuild the Village of Strudelburg. Unfortunately, the Minister proved exceptionally busy at the conference and to occupied by the Durmstrang end of term game to talk. Still watching the young Minister at the two events allowed Korrine to get a sense of his character and she felt more a passion for power from him, then of empathy. Still she was not in any case a diviner, but then was not she sitting across from one now?

"Maybe I am just reading to much into the articles. I am certainly not a diviner, but weren't you one Mr. Dickinson? Tell me, you don't by chance have any insight that could relieve my hopefully unfounded worries?"
Astronomy / Re: [ooc] Class Registration & Gradebook
« Last post by Pixie Clarke-Trickett on Yesterday at 11:11:32 PM »
Name: Pixie Clarke-Trickett
House: Gryffindor
Year: 3rd

journal assignments & point sessions?? Pixie is definitely up for points sessions. I'll probably force her into doing assignments too xD
How proficient in Astronomy is your student? 4. She's repeating her third year...
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