Hestia sighed as she took a slip of paper that was dangling off the poster at the cafe. Looking for jobs wasn’t easy... and looking for a job when she’d so recently and so publicly been fired from her last one was even worse. But sitting at home would only get her so far, and she really did need to start actively looking if she wanted to get anything any time soon. She was considering taking up the job that Andromeda mentioned at the hospital, if things got desperate enough. Putting the slip of paper into her bag, Hestia got in line to order herself a coffee. It wasn’t an expensive way of treating herself, but it definitely helped her feel a little better nonetheless. “Is it crazy to admit that I don’t even miss my old job that much? I mean, besides the paycheck,” Hestia admitted to the person standing behind her, not even sure who they were. “It was exhausting.”

Amelia Bones wasn’t the kind of woman to be treated gingerly. Florence learned long ago that most members of Aversio were not the kind who needed that kind of attentive care. She didn’t need to walk on eggshells when they all were already standing on so much debris. But still, there was something about Amelia that, at times, caught Florence off guard. Perhaps it was that she saw so much of herself in the other woman. She was familiar, and that, in a sense, was unsettling. It was difficult to stare someone else in the eyes and see so much of herself. Or maybe it was the fact that Amelia had already been through so much, lost so much for so little, and yet Florence had yet to experience any consequences for her involvement in the war. That second part wasn’t true. Not entirely. She’d lost plenty of friends and been caught up in the mess herself. But she hadn’t been captured and tortured and held hostage like Amelia had. So maybe it was her guilt, a sense that she should’ve been in Amelia’s place instead, that left Florence feeling so uneasy around Amelia Bones. Sitting down at a table next to the woman in Aversio’s headquarters, Florence rested her arms on the table. “I’d say good morning, but I don’t know if that’s necessarily the right phrasing anymore. So... morning,” she offered. “Be honest with me -- do I look like shit? Because I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in almost a week.”

@unbrokcnbones

;; starter call !

hi everyone! I’m Eliza and I’m so hyped to be writing with you guys! I’m probably going to slide into everyone’s dms but if I don’t get to you first, feel free to message me!

Compromising Position || Rabastan & Open

Winter 1979 London Open

The cold air hit him, and his stomach turned but he kept the bile rising in his throat down. The noise from bar muffled as the door closed behind him. Rabastan took a second, bracing himself against the wall as his eyes adjusted to the street light and the ringing in his ears decreased. 

He could see his breath rising in clouds in front of him but he was hot, as if he’d just run a mile. Perhaps it was the effect of one of the potions he’d taken. His lips quirked at the thought. His head spun. 

Merlin, he needed a piss. 

He looked around and saw an alley across the street. He made a beeline, although it was probably more meandering than he thought. It was like his mind was working ten times faster than his body, making it feel like he was moving in slow motion. 

He reached the darkness of the alley, and unzipped his trousers. He made an audible sigh as he started to relieve himself. Then, above the sound of urine spattering on the concrete he heard footsteps. He looked around and chuckled. The closest streetlight illuminated their face enough for him to recognise them. What a coincidence. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” he drawled. 

The Leaky Cauldron Late August, 1979 Open

Blood was pounding in Marlene’s ears, despite the resting state she was in -- well, if you could call lounging across the bar with a nearly empty bottle of firewhiskey resting. She hadn’t meant to go through nearly the entire thing, had been doing a damn good job of getting sober, but it looked like that was all out the fucking window now. It was a reprieve she needed desperately, something that eased the noise in her head, all the voices that screamed rampantly with little cease. They seemed to be growing louder by the minute, no matter how much booze she downed. Maybe she was finally losing her damn mind, and going just as mad as everyone already seemed to think she was. 

It was coming up on four months since Dorcas was murdered, an anniversary that Marlene was all too bitterly aware of. The image of the woman being blasted into the air, surrounded by violent green rays of magic before collapsing as if she was nothing was burned into her brain for the rest of time. As if being tortured wasn’t fucking enough. It was all one big joke; Orion was set free in exchange for Dorcas’ life, according to Katrina Parkinson -- and yet the bastard that had spent months torturing Marlene had gotten out, an innocent being brutally killed in the process. “’S not fucking fair.” She snapped, the words biting out louder than she expected them to. The Leaky was practically empty, most of the usual patrons either having retired to their rooms upstairs or having stopped coming in altogether. War was stretching into everyone’s active lives now, impacting more than just the paranoia; Tom would have scolded her like she was an irresponsible child were he to know how much funding she was pouring into keeping the bar open for them. He was the closest thing to a parent she had anymore, she would protect him, protect his livelihood. 

Tears stung in her eyes for a moment as she rose the bottle to her lips, taking another long swig. “I loved her and now she’s dead.” They were words she’d been avoiding, not wanting to admit that war had really stolen something from her, someone that had been with her from the age of eleven. “Sometimes I really wish I’d never fuckin’ left Paris.”

August, 1979 Open 

Xenophilius stared at the letter in his hands. His father didn’t know he had taken it. Hell, Obadiah didn’t even know Xeno had seen it on their last trip home. But the Ministry seal was cause to draw attention, particularly when his father was acting stressed out and his mother kept worrying her lip. Obadiah wasn’t the friendliest person to have walked God’s green earth, but his mother? Debbie had never rushed him out of the house before. A quick spell had brought the spell into his hand, tucked out of sight by his leather jacket. They didn’t need to know he knew.

But he could see why they hadn’t told him. An official warning from the Ministry about use of magic in front of a muggle. Plenty of phrasing thrown in about ‘strenuous times’ calling for ‘more conscientious behavior and responsible use of magic.’ From the sound of it, it wasn’t the first letter his father had received recently either.

“He’s always use magic around her,” Xeno said, their ringed fingers picking at their lips. “Always. It’s always been in the house. And they’re married for Merlin’s sake. It’s not like she’ll tell anyone. She loves him. She loves both of us. She wouldn’t tell anyone about the wizarding world, not anyone that doesn’t already know. She’s already kept it a secret for more than two decades, even from her own family. Why- Why are they saying this? Why are they doing this now? They can’t just ... dictate who we act in our own homes.”

Idle Hands || Open Starter

Date: July 29th Location: Lestrange Manor, The Engagement Party Status: Open 

Aidan scanned the crowd of the engagement party, a cocktail glass dangling between thumb and forefinger. For once they actually quite liked the company of the hour. All the best--and only the best--pureblood families had gathered for the event. This was how the world ought to be really. This was the goal they were all striving for. It would be nice if it could last more than one evening, but something would probably much it all up. There were already a few non-purebloods--Aidan had noted Gilderoy Lockheart already, but supposed with someone who’d managed to make a name for themselves like that, an exception could be made. But it was nice. Not to mention Aidan knew full well that under those fancy suits and below disguise charms were plenty of tattoos on forearms that matched their own.

Everything seemed right. Settled and peaceful. Though a bit too peaceful if you asked Aidan. There ought to be some kind of show going on or at least two people getting into some drama based fight. While Aidan believed in blood purity, they did not believe in boredom, especially if things weren’t centered around them. Peace and tranquility were massively overrated ideas that Aidan just didn’t want much to do with if they were being completely honest. It was good to see no one was fucking up this day for their little Emma, but it made it none the less disappointing.

“It’s a pretty part, but a bit on the dull side,” Aidan commented to no one in particular, speaking really to anyone who would listen. “I’m really rather tempted to cook up some fun of my own. What do you say, just a little good fun?”

starter call;

I’m excited to get things going on Lily, so if you’d like a thread or to plot just favorite this and I’ll come to you!

starter call;

I know I posted one of these awhile back and then ~stuff happened, so like for a starter from Cissa!

side effects

OPEN STARTER

Among the shadows of London lurked creatures made of flesh and blood, desperate to taste something copper and foul. They whispered and dealt beneath the fullness of a silver moon, and clawed out at the innocent passersby with hideous intentions. And until a week ago, Cygnus Black had crept within their circles, content to find pain, fire, and mayhem after hours. Those sorts were his family, silent as they were, his drinking buddies and fighting partners and everything between. He lived for their distrust and distaste. His own cold face was no different than their own so they asked no questions, they just traded and drank and stumbled around. Like old friends, he often thought, or brothers. 

But now, now that he did not sleep and could not think, he didn’t return to that brotherhood of darkness. They would sniff out the weakness pouring from his clammy skin. The simple tremor of his fingertips was more than enough of a sign that he had grown old, too old, and that he was not to be feared. Bullshit. Cygnus wanted to scream into the warm night air presently. Fuck that, I’m going to burn the entirety of England to the fucking ground. And then we’ll see who is scared.

He raised his wand to the sky, his eyes squinting at the distant target. To his left was an alleyway he could escape to, should he need a quick exit. To his right sat a small strip of shops. If this were the middle of the day perhaps he would have witnesses. But this late at night - early in the morning, actually - the streets were bare. He tightened his grip on his wand, ready to let the flame fly towards the farthest building - but nothing came. Nothing could. The thought of those orange embers, that blazing heat, had him dropping his arm stiffly to his side. He had broken into a sweat, he was panting from former terror, his heart beating rapidly against his chest. “Fuck!” He shouted, twisting around to slam one open palm into the brick of the alleyway. And then over and over until the fleshy bits were scraped up. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

starter call.

so I’m a problem and I haven’t been around, so this is me attempting to get my shit together. cassius is out here being... well he’s being cassius as usual. so there are lots of different things we could get into in future threads. like this post for a starter or for me to come plot with you. or just pop in my ims and talk to me, if you want.

Hestia wanted nothing more than to eat her croissant in peace. It was a lot to ask for, all things considered. The little cafe in Hogsmeade was busy even on the slowest of days, and it was likely that she would run into at least somebody that she knew. But after days of being cooped up, whether in a private part of the safe house castle where she was hiding from anyone who might comment on her recent firing from the Prophet, or at her room, she needed a breath of fresh air. The table she chose was outside, allowing for her to feel refreshed without being in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the breakfast rush. Feeling someone approaching her table, Hestia put on her best smile, knowing she at least had to pretend to be friendly. All she could hope was that it was someone approaching with an innocent question, and not someone who wanted to speak distastefully of the article that had ended the career she had worked so hard to begin.  “Hey, what’s going on? Can I help you or something?”

Letters to the editor were worthless these days. The Prophet was being run by the Death Eaters -- or at the very least, people who were sympathetic to their cause. Florence knew that wasn’t a fair assumption to make, necessarily. Some of the writers at the Prophet preferred to keep their articles politically neutral, knowing that rocking the boat could lead to them losing their jobs. She’d seen it first hand, with the firing of Hestia Jones and then her being taken in by the Aurors. It was a dangerous time to be a public dissenter. Then again, Florence couldn’t think of a time when she’d been anything else. She sat in the park on one of the benches, trying to take in the sounds of every day life, reminding herself that in the midst of all this chaos, there were still small remnants of normalcy hidden throughout London. It wasn’t until someone interrupted her that she looked up from her book, a stern look on her face.

Hello, friends! So, in the spirit of me needing more threads and in light of the newest plot drop, here we are! I’d love some fresh stuff with Selina, so like this for a starter/to plot and I’ll reach out!

starter call;

Woop, hey, it’s me, and I could use some new stuff on Bella since I don’t have very much at the moment. I’ll probably reach out for plots/etc first if we don’t have anything figured out already, but I’ll be working on these on and off throughout the week, so just give this a like if interested!

starter call;

With the recent plot drop & all of our new members, I figured it was time for some new threads! So if anyone wants a starter/to plot something with Miss Marlene, just give this a like!