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America vs England; Year 4 - Summer - WC Day 2/First Round
Topic Started: Dec 3 2014, 01:47:36 PM (3,347 Views)
Caitlyn Weasley
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Caitlyn smiled as Quinn came back with popcorn, which she quickly grabbed a little handful while giggling. "Thank god! Fooood." Laughing, Caitlyn watched as a boy sat down with them, who introduced himself as Charlie. She was about to introduce herself when Quinn introduced the both of them, though it seemed the boy already knew Billie. Looking at him, Caitlyn decided he seemed nice enough, and noted that she could slightly recognise him as an older grade from her own house.


Caitlyn laughed as petals started to fall, giggling when Quinn put some in her hair. Charlie handed out a petal for the young Weasley, who gladly took the petal and arranged it neatly in her own hair.
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I also play Haylee Smithee
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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

In Carmen's memory, Richard Gaunt was a man whose name was whispered behind giggling palms. Years ago, before Theodore Wickham had smashed into Carmen's perfectly normal life, Carmen found herself a proper little girl with braided hair and optimistic smiles, much like Poppy had shaped herself to be. Carmen walked primly, a haughty tilt to her jaw; she was the smartest girl in their year, and professors loved her. She didn't have many friends, of course, but she had enough, especially the ones that paid her to do their homework. Richard Gaunt was not one of those people. A young Carmen was plagued by stabs of guilt whenever she saw people stare openly at the grotesque, misshapen half of Richard's broken face.

Once that Prefect badge had been properly pinned to Carmen's chest, she went on a rampage like a nun with a ruler in a Catholic school. She apprehended any whisper, finding them all as quickly as her patent leather Mary Jane's could carry her. Now, the badge was scuffed, hiding at the bottom of her trunk in her room at home. As an adult, the fiery desire to right the world's wrongs had mellowed into a general feeling of complicity. There were certain evils that Carmen could, in theory, stop; for example, if Jordanna Bauer tried to explode the World Cup arena at this particular moment in time, Carmen could summon Light and probably do a damn good job of trying to save the day.

But her girlish need to rescue the downtrodden stepped-on feelings of the forever underdogs had dissipated, as it usually does when someone realizes their total lack of control. Carmen's guilt seemed conspicuously missing as she grew into a woman and, in its place, she experienced a morbid curiosity. Up close, Richard's didn't seem awful at all. It was just another face, at least from one side. He was just another person like this, despite the mumbles that left his mouth, as if he wasn't quite used to speaking with others.

“Our fault, then.” Carmen paused, trying to catch Richard's eye, but it seemed determined to remain locked on the ground, despite its eagerness to glance at her face every so often. “Alone? Oh, me? Er – yeah, I am, actually.” Quietly, Carmen stepped forward, a summer breeze brushing her long mane of white past her shoulders. Her fingers, lined with golden rings, brushed stray hairs from her face. “I'm sure you're not, though. No one buys three butterbeers for themselves all at once unless they've got a serious problem.”

Carmen forced a laugh, as if to punctuate her sentence. “Richard, right? I'm Carmen.” But he probably knew that, didn't he?
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Auror | Training. Elementium.
Long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell

leads up to Light
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Theodore Wickham
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IMPERATOR

”A toast!” Collin Wickham echoed Dean’s suggestion as England tied the score. A few spectators flinched in response. ”Everyone gather around, we’re going to toast to the match, even if it’s already begun. It’s never too late, am I right gentlemen?” A gentle murmur of laughter rippled through the room. Outside the double-paned windows, players zoomed across, electricity on their fingertips, animals in a show who were eager to please.

Theodore watched his father with a glint of false admiration. Collin Wickham was afraid, and though the others could not see it, Teddy could sense it like a shift in the wind. They were fearful of Booker DeWitt’s calculating gaze, a cold invite to the grave. Theodore remembered when he had watched his uncle chop a man to pieces with a wood axe without a hint of remorse. Ruthlessly, the limbs were thrown overboard to the alligators that waited patiently in the bayou.

”I want to say that it’s been an honor,” piped Max Rowle as he hoisted his champagne flute into the air. The room fell silent again, a sharp inhale of breath as the spectators permitted Mr. Rowle to continue. ”To all of you that have wagered on America: Good luck. You’ll need it.” Laughter echoed against the walls. Theodore began to guzzle his drink without waiting for approval. ”To the World Cup!”

“To the World Cup!” The guests echoed in unison. Sparkling glasses of gold liquid and well-manicured hands rose into the air.

Max turned to the Minister for Magic. ”And to you, Mr. DeWitt. Without you, this could not be possible.”

Theodore watched his uncle’s expression: Stoic, but the corners of his lips twitched, as if to acknowledge Rowle’s praise. He had a smug expression painted on his handsome face as if to say: ”That’s right, you shmucks. You wouldn’t be here without me. Kiss my ring.”

Half done with his drink, Teddy rubbed his eyes and turned to Oliver Rowle. ”Didn’t you send Richard out for something? Where is he?”
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T.J.W

there's something about you, it's hard to explain...
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Andromeda Wickham
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IDOL OF ROSES, ICONIC SOUL

”Did you see that? Oh, it’s happening so fast!”

”The quaffle is back in America’s hands, ladies and gentlemen!”

”It’s a Christmas miracle: Anna Montgomery has managed to pull herself back onto her broom - whoopee! That’ll be on the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow.”

”Annnnnnnnd Frank Jennings pulls the quaffle from John Buchanan’s grasp! Things are getting tense on the field --”

”The word is ‘heated’, Donna --”

”Eddie, they’re not about to engage in a steamy makeout session --”

Daniel Turner knocks the bludger out of the zone! Is it heading to Ethel Turner? I can’t see!”


Like a lost doe, Andromeda navigated her way through the stadium, drinking in the sights and sounds as if she would never live to see them again. The collectivist feeling of pride and adoration for one’s team filled her with a passionate patriotism that she thought had been extinguished along with her pureblood pride. She was wrong however, and consequently purchased a pin of the England flag to wear proudly on her baby-doll dress.

Finally, Andromeda found the familiar entourage of aurors posted near an intimidating door. She pushed her shoulders back and batted her hopeful eyes. ”I’m a bit late, I know,” she answered their thoughts with a soft smile. ”Andromeda Black. My name is on the list? I was Theodore Wickham’s plus one.”

”Of course, Miss Black.” The auror answered, and then he stepped aside and allowed her to enter, as if he were the gatekeeper and she an angel.

When she entered the DeWitt suite the celebration was in full-swing: Champagne bottles were popping, people were chatting and swapping jokes as if it were currency. Jazz music cackled from a retro music player in the corner. Andromeda often wondered if she could ever adapt to the dapper lifestyle. Brimming with confidence, she pushed her dark hair behind her ears and noticed a familiar handsome face at the bar. It wouldn’t hurt to drop in, would it?

Andromeda slipped into the seat beside him. ”Hello Don,” she greeted him sweetly. ”It’s a relief to see you here. I don’t really know anyone besides Teddy - well I mean, I do know them, but they’re more associated with my parents or my sisters. No one really has business with the younger Black sister.”
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ANDROMEDA NYMPHADORA BLACK

I loved you the first time, I loved you the last time...
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Richard Gaunt
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the last thing you never see

Richard snorted at Carmen’s observation. She was right, and Richard felt guilty for wanting to lie to her. What was he supposed to say? Those three were for my friends and I - Oliver and Theodore. He could picture the hurt on her face. The ”Oh” that would slip from her lips as she realized how much she was missing; Teddy rarely discussed his past with Carmen, but when he did, Richard couldn’t help but flinch at the razor-sharp spite in his tone.

She didn’t seem too bad, but he had to remind himself he was only grazing the surface. Richard remained guarded as well, skeptical, unsure of whether he was treading behind enemy lines or if he was doing himself a favor. He wanted to be nice to her, he really did, but she didn’t understand the kind of person he was. Not many did. It wasn’t that we was missing half of his face, it was that his actions in private often conflicted with his reflections and he often felt deserving of the malice speared at him.

Because all Carmen saw was a boy wearing plastic, but she didn’t know about the men Booker DeWitt had ordered him to dispose of. Take care of. Whack. There were many terms for it, but it held the same final, dead-weight feeling.

”Mmm...Pleasure to finally meet you, Carmen,” he said, staring directly into her face. He hoped she wouldn’t grow impatient with his slow, deep and guttural voice. The mask made it difficult to speak. Half of his lips were sewn shut, meaning his words needed to be spoken carefully and enunciated properly. ”I shouldn’t… Speak of the... obvious. I mean…” He closed his eye. ”I’ve heard...A lot about --” No. He had backed himself into a corner.

”I mean…” Richard swallowed the lump in his throat. It was easier to aim a wand at the back of someone’s head. ”Can you forgive me?” He finally managed, hoping that at any moment Oliver Rowle would appear out of the crowd to the rescue. ”That wasn’t… My intention. There’s a lot of bad blood going around.”

He stopped himself and motioned to the spilled butterbeer. ”The least I could do...Is take you back to the suite with me. There’s a party,” his heart began to ram rapidly against his chest. He was aware of the fire he was about to spark. ”It’s… Up to you.”
Posted ImageRichard James Gaunt // Half Face.

Do not go gentle into that good night; Old age should burn and rave at close of day. Rage, rage against the dying of the light!

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Pandora Abel
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Don't be delicate. Be vast and brilliant.

Pandora's eyes were on the sky. And the bleachers. And pretty much everywhere else.

Her parents were not into Quidditch. At all. So Pandora had never actually been to a World Cup before. It was completely magnificent.

Pandora had always admired Dave and Morgan's relationship (or Dave and Charlotte's, for that matter), and today was no different. Half an ear found teasing words, and though she appeared to be somewhere else, a chuckle betrayed that she was listening.

Immediately after they stepped into the box, Dave was swarmed. Pandora smiled. "Hello James, Sirius, Remus, Amelia." She'd seen them already this World Cup-- after all, the McKelveys and Weasleys were sharing a tent. Though Pandora wasn't a McKelvey. She wasn't exactly an Abel at this point, though, either.

Another pang ripped through her. It would take a while before she was used to that, even if she had been prepared. She couldn't imagine what it would have been like had she been someone who belonged. Not the white sheep.

As an unrelated mental note, she had to make a stop at the Elliot tent at some point and say hello to Hazel and Cy.

She was proud of him. Was proud the right word? Perhaps excited for him. Being Head Boy would be great for him. The revelation that Amelia was Head Girl was exciting as well. They were troublemakers, but Pandora knew Amelia didn't stand for fools much. "Congratulations." She said. Pandora's eyes drifted back to the sky, but the revelation had led her back to thoughts of 7th year, how it would turn out.

Pandora was not disappointed. "Come on, come on, come on....YES!" She leaped up with Dave when England scored.

Nice one, England.
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Thank you to Jenn who is awesome <3
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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

Carmen had never been so transfixed by someone before.

She watched as Richard's slackened mouth tripped around syllables, struggling for a chance to exhale the nervous energy building in his throat. Instinctively, Carmen's spine straightened, a pillar of her supposed good will; she leaned in, hoping to catch each word that grumbled out of Richard's lips. The sharp line of his jaw jerked as Richard waded through sentences, each sentiment growing thicker than the last, like speaking through a mouth filled with cement. Carmen was uncertain of his intentions, and suddenly found herself edging back from him, her pout twisted into a frown; it wasn't until he apologized that she mentally scolded herself.

It was easy to grow hesitant around others who knew Theodore Wickham and his family as friends. Carmen supposed she had never been a friend; she was a nobody, the Ravenclaw girl Teddy smirked at in class. She was the girl spat viciously at, Dolores hanging on his arm like a sad-eyed doe. Somewhere between tea leaves and rumors, Carmen became the mystery. She became a magnet, silver-haired question mark looming over Teddy's head.

And then she was everything. Carmen didn't know how to be his friend and, therefore, she didn't know a damn thing about Richard, either.

Who would Teddy trust now? Would he trust anyone at all? Carmen swallowed her questions, although her eyebrows arched at Richard's invitation. What was his intention? Who was at the party? A sick part of Carmen envisioned herself sipping from expensive glasses, mingling with the elite while Theodore looked on, his narrowed eyes seething jealousy. That was the sick part of Carmen. The part of her with a functioning conscience grew nervous at the thought of being near him again.

Carmen tried to smile, but it was a sad one. The sadness was always there, just behind her blue eyes. She envisioned herself saying “I don't think I could go” and grew pale – look at him! Richard probably hardly ever asked girls out to parties, let alone random girls he hardly knew. She was sure he was just doing it to be polite, but he didn't even have to be that polite. Richard was putting himself out there.

And for God's sake, the kid had half of a fucking face. How could Carmen smile and lie about having somewhere better to be?

“I, uh... sure. If you think that's an okay idea, I'd love to go with you,” said Carmen, a part of her regretting the words as soon as she said them. “Lead the way.”
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Long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell

leads up to Light
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Don Draper
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Mad Man

Whiskey and Coke danced on Don’s tongue like water and oil on slick asphalt. A Draper did not have a reserved throne among DeWitts and Lestranges, Rowles and Yaxleys. As far as Don knew, he was allowed to attend the celebration because Booker DeWitt had extended an invitation personally. They had been through so much together - they had been married to wives who had shared a womb, and from there spawned a close-knit brotherhood that would never sever, despite the number of times Don had plied at the cord with a haggard saw.

He sat alone at the bar as per usual, a cigarette between his fingers, clutching a tumbler like it was the hand of his wife. He felt like an ominous cloud eclipsing a bright day. He felt like he didn’t belong among crooks and gangsters - it simply wasn’t his crowd anymore. Men like Booker DeWitt lacked empathy. DeWitt was a monster in human skin, but Don’s monsters lingered like an approaching storm.

Andromeda Black’s shrill voice drew his attention. He looked up from his reflection in the glass, eyes half-lowered in a buzzed haze. She was his progeny, his creation, a last effort to right the wrong he had brought into the world. Sometimes Don found himself comparing Dolly to Andromeda, the what ifs and what could have beens if he had done this instead of that. Andromeda was determined, a beacon who knew her calling in life. Dolly was…

Well, he didn’t know Dolly enough to list off her qualities.

And that was something completely depressing to mull over. ”That’s good. You don’t need to be in business with them,” he said, glancing warily at Charlotte Yaxley’s head of copper hair. He lowered his voice: ”Everyone in here is a liar. Everyone here at one point or another has put a knife into someone’s back to get where they are currently. You remember that the next time Collin Wickham invites you over for dinner.” He rose his glass in a salute before finishing the contents of his drink.

”Waiter? Why don’t you bring my friend a drink here? She’s with me,” said Don as he pushed his empty glass aside. Then, he turned to face Andromeda. ”What have you been up to since we last spoke?”
Posted ImageDonald Richard Draper Auror House Draper "Tread lightly here."





"Kids today have no one to look up to, because they're looking up to us."
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Allison Kennedy
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Duchess of Bay Ridge

Allison was a smear of red among black dresses and gray suits. She clutched her flute heartily, like a cross on a rosary, and watched with mild interest as Dean Draper and Jane Holloway bumped lips and giggled bubbles of champagne. She tapped her French-manicured nails to the beat of the music, but she maintained an amused expression on her face as she watched Dean Draper lie to his girlfriend with every fiber of his being.

Do I want to know?

She elbowed her way through the crowd, a snake slithering through the leaves, and found with each step closer she felt her heart threaten to explode. ”Hello Dean,” Allison purred, an innocent smile on her glossy lips. She forced herself to play the oblivious friend: Oh, Jane’s his girlfriend? For how long? Nice to meet her, even if they had been potions partners back in fourth year. Allison had no idea they were dating, what a small world!

In fact, she was so oblivious, that when Dean had approached her to slip cartons of booze into the Gryffindor common room, she had accidentally kissed him. A few days later, they had went out to dinner. Business and romance woven together like a tragic story, and the climax was yet to come. ”Jane, right?” She asked. ”I didn’t think I would see anyone from Hogwarts here. My dad is an associate of Mr. DeWitt’s - they’re in business together, you know? The Americans want a piece of everything.” She paused to sip her wine. ”I assume we’re all rooting for America here.”
Posted ImageAllison Roxanne Pattyn Kennedy. All American Girl.

Location:

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"We remember..."
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Oliver Rowle
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"Jimmy Blue Eyes"
”Yeah, I did actually,” Oliver agreed. The realization suddenly hit him: He had dispatched Richard over twenty minutes ago. Oliver blinked. Richard shouldn’t have been longer than ten, not unless the lines were longer than a basilisk’s tail. He rubbed his hands awkwardly. ”I’m a little worried. Should I go out and look for him? What if he got lost?”

Theodore swallowed the rest of his champagne and shook his head as he set the empty glass down. Richard wasn't a child. He would find his way.

Oliver was quick to change the subject. ”Everyone’s on edge right now,” he observed as he leaned against the countertop. Oliver’s father, Max, was quietly whispering into Booker’s ear, likely details about the remainder of the match. Unfortunately, Oliver knew who was going to win, and a handful of people currently in the suite were going to lose a fortune of money tonight. That’s the way the world works. Money makes it go ‘round.

”Hey,” he nudged Teddy’s arm with his knuckle. ”Does your dad know that your mom is here?”
Oliver James Rowle of House Rowle, Sacred 28. "Never resting."
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Richard Gaunt
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the last thing you never see

”Lead the way.”

Richard had never been easily granted such power in his life. He felt as if he were leading a horse to water: Although it might have been a necessity, it didn’t mean the animal would willingly drink from the well. People often handed him objectives and expected them done, which he did with an eager heart. It was rare that Richard was ever in full-control of the scenarios in his life. ”This way.” He grunted, hands deep in his pockets, praying Theodore would forgive him for the scab he was about to rip from the wound.

He carelessly left the mess of butterbeers to be cleaned up by stadium maintenance. Together, Carmen and Richard walked from the snack stands to the back-corridors of the arena. Richard’s long legs fell into step beside Carmen’s short limbs, and he couldn’t help but feel as if he were approaching his doom. Booker wouldn’t have a problem with it - the more women the better - but Theodore was bound to feel a stab of betrayal at the sight of Carmen’s electric white hair.

The roars of the crowd filled their silence as they moved. Richard wanted to change his mind. Perhaps he could pretend to get lost, or pretend to have to use the bathroom and apparate out in a flurry. But he was too loyal to abandon a stranger. She trusted him, and it wasn’t in his nature to abandon promises. Instead, he continued to lead Carmen toward the door guarded by an army of aurors, all sworn to protect a man who wouldn’t piss on them if they were on fire. ”I’m back.” He alerted them.

”Yeah, with a plus one?”

”It was a favor.” Richard said. The auror snickered and shook his head, but stepped aside anyway to allow the two to pass. Richard and Carmen entered the DeWitt Suite, the scene still a painted picture, just the same as he had left it. The match resumed outside of the window and people were partying as if they were counting down to 1920. Richard prepared the apology on the tip of his tongue. ”You know… Some of these people, right? It’s not a dramatic change of scenery.”
Posted ImageRichard James Gaunt // Half Face.

Do not go gentle into that good night; Old age should burn and rave at close of day. Rage, rage against the dying of the light!

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Charlotte Yaxley
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the woman behind the man

Charlotte watched admirably as the men held puppet-strings and forced their puppets to dance to incredible numbers. She preferred to be the woman behind the man, a cold, calculating driving force who was loyal until the very end. Unlike many of her associates, she preferred to be a matriarch, a goddess in her domestic sphere instead of forging chaos. Women like Precious Lestrange and Tinsley Carmichael were admirable and dangerous, but Charlotte was wise enough to know that they would never be taken seriously in a man’s world.

Her eyes were like icy daggers piercing into Booker DeWitt’s finely-pressed suit. The million dollar man had killed many with his ruthless antic, one of those being Charlotte’s first son, James Prewett, may he rest in peace. Today, he would have been among the crowd, a handsome sapphire-eyed boy whose wits would cripple DeWitt’s empire. Camilla and Cordelia would have had a brother to protect them from the cold advances of the world.

She glanced at the bar and noticed Oliver Rowle, a boy who resembled her beloved deceased son too much. She felt a stab of anguish in her chest. How could she stand idly when her son’s murderer reaped money from her bloody, trembling hands? Charlotte looked longingly to Oliver and Teddy again, and could only help but feel yearning as she realized they might have been her last hope.

Charlotte crossed the room and approached Richard Gaunt, a vile smile on her red lips as she looked the boy over disapprovingly. ”Did you bring the parchment that I asked for?” She demanded. One plus of being associated with Mr. DeWitt was that she reigned power over his associates. Oliver, Theodore, Richard and Timothy were hers to order around as she pleased.

Richard shook his head.

Charlotte scowled. ”Of course,” she laughed bitterly, and then directed her attention to the silver-haired girl beside him. Charlotte’s eyes narrowed into slits. She had seen her before, likely pouring over books in the Hogwarts library when exams rolled around. The Hogwarts Librarian saw many faces throughout the school year. ”Sometimes I forget that he’s not a real human being.” Charlotte said dismissively before she turned and walked away.
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"Unflinching."

Wife to Daniel. Mother to Camilla and Cordelia.
Black Magic Witch.
Salem Alumni.


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Bradley Bhodhsa
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I am Tyler "TJ" Jekyll

Michael stood in one of the best boxes within the whole stadium; it wasn’t just luck that he managed to get there either. Michael had been working with the information he had been given and somehow ended up in Booker DeWitt’s VIP box, surrounded by powerful team owners all with the same goal in mind. Or at least, it seemed that way. Michael stood with a pen and parchment in his hand; he needed this for notes during the game. As a so called PR manager, Michael had to be ready to make notes in case any slip ups happened.

Frank Jennings seemed to have lost the quaffle to Owen Thompson, who began to fly up as high as he could. However, he was followed by Mabel Garrott and the two chasers ended up swirling and turning in the air wanting to get possession of the quaffle. Owen Thompson threw the quaffle and John Buchanan swooped over to get but then…

“THE WHISLE HAS BEEN BLOWN! JOHN BUCHANAN WENT OVER THE BOUNDRY LINES AND THE QUAFFLE MUST BE GIVEN TO ENGLAND!”


Michael almost rolled his eyes at this, it wasn’t a surprise though. The American team always darted into things too quickly, while the England team got too aggressive and got their own penalties. “At least the referee knows when to call.” Michael mused to whoever was around him.
faciem mutate[
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Carmen Gray-Winters
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and I will take what is mine

Carmen blanched at the razor-sharp edge in Charlotte Yaxley's voice. She was used to the sting of her words in the mismatched aisles of Hogwarts' library (being both the Deputy Head's daughter and a prefect with a top of silver hair made Carmen easy to remember). She was not used to being regarded passively, or seeing someone be totally dismissed like a peasant. Instinct told Carmen to defend Richard, but she bit against her tongue painfully. She could taste the bitterness in her words as they struggled to break free.

"Are you..." okay? The words shuddered in her mouth, afraid to be spoken. Questions, to be left unanswered, buzzed around in her brain, but she merely looked up at Richard with wide eyes.

She didn't need to be rescued, but she suddenly felt chained to Richard. He was a safe place. As Carmen looked around, she spotted Don and Andromeda. Her heart warmed at the site of Don, a father figure for her, and a friend of her father's before his passing. Carmen spotted Oliver. She spotted...

"Oh no," gulped Carmen, panicking, as her eyes locked on Theodore Wickham.
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Auror | Training. Elementium.
Long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell

leads up to Light
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Theodore Wickham
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IMPERATOR

”No one knows, that’s the point.” Theodore snorted, motioning to the bartender for another drink. Although Precious’s decision to disguise herself as a long-forgotten relative was clever, it was also predictable. People were bound to notice the way Jax hovered near Orion Lestrange’s side like a creepy uncle. But they were all friends there. Everyone had a little blood on their hands. ”My father wouldn’t peep. Not with how deep he is in with Booker.”

Everyone was up to their necks debt. They wanted favors, and unfortunately Booker DeWitt was the CEO of Favors Inc. He had enough money to fill every bank in Gringotts and possibly more - or so, those were the rumors that circulated. He was a wealthy man, but dangerous, and somehow Theodore had landed directly under his wings. Theodore cleared his throat and glanced suspiciously at the door. He was beginning to worry about Richard.

Booker kept his band of young men in hopes of grooming a better future. Oliver was loyal, strong and unquestioning, just the kind of soldier needed to take an Unforgivable Curse if attempted. Although Theodore’s motives were questionable, he knew how to force alliances and knew on whom to call favors on. Dean’s presence was obvious - the guy was an excellent bullshitter. He could sell hippogryph shit and still make it sound like gold. Richard was lethal with a wand, the fastest cowboy in the west, and Booker needed just that kind of protection if the others failed. Timothy DeWitt? He was around just enough to step up to the plate should something permanent happen to Booker seeing as Alex wanted nothing to do with taking over his father’s empire.

DeWitt’s brothers helped run things. Max Rowle was DeWitt’s advisor, the consigliere. Every thing they did was pure business. It was clear to Theodore from the start that a profit was to be made. The Kennedys, the Yaxleys, the Carmichaels - they were only allowed a share because it would help generate wealth. Otherwise, DeWitt would have shot them into the ground to eliminate competition.

”Fucking America, come on!” Oliver cursed, slamming his fist onto the table. Even if he knew who was going to win, it was fun to act out the excitement. Theodore watched solemnly as the bartender slid over a glass tumbler filled with whiskey. Oliver whipped a cigarette from his silver case and lit. ”Hey look, it’s the man of the hour,” Oliver exhaled smoke from his nostrils. His face turned ashen as his eyes landed upon Richard and the silver-haired girl beside him. Jesus Christ. Is he serious?”

Oliver’s tone forced Theodore to pause. Slowly, Theodore downed a third of his drink, set it upon the bar and discreetly peeked over his shoulder at the debacle at the door. A lump of dread cemented in Theodore’s stomach. Really? Theodore loved Richard, but sometimes he wondered if the kid was missing half of his brain too. Theodore turned back to face Oliver and prayed Carmen hadn’t seen him. ”Well, looks like it’s my cue to leave.”

”You gonna run with your tail between your legs every time she shows her face, Ted?” Oliver asked, stabbing the air with his cigarette.

Theodore snickered. ”No,” he spun the glass with his fingers. ”It’s not that. I think she’s in denial.”

Ohohoho, Oliver chuckled as he brought the cigarette to his lips. ”Crazy attracts crazy.”

”I trust you boys are staying out of trouble?” Charlotte Yaxley cooed as she approached the bar, hips swinging with each feline-like step. She inserted herself between Theodore and Oliver, the red meat between a blonde sandwich. Oliver instantly stood up straighter at Mrs. Yaxley’s presence. Any mention of Carmen was long-forgotten.

”Of course, Mrs. Yaxley,” Oliver grinned, turning his head to exhale smoke so that he did not blow it in her face. Charlotte looked over the younger man with a yearning in her eyes. She smiled coyly, and with the tilt of her head, she reached out and adjusted his collar. ”You know us. Just waiting around on your every order.”

”We’re eager to please, Mrs. Yaxley.” Theodore chimed, never lifting his eyes from his drink.

”It’s Charlotte, boys. I’m not your mother.”

”Yes m’am.” Oliver and Theodore said simultaneously.

”You know where my favoritism stands. It’s Richard I’m worried about. Sometimes… He just doesn’t follow through, you know? I send him out for parchment and he comes back with this poor-looking girl.” Oliver’s face pinked as he suppressed his laughter. Theodore smirked and shook his head. ”Poor thing must be lost. The boy’s got a big heart, I can’t blame him. I mean, he must have had a terrible childhood, right? He’s so fortunate to have you two. I think of the three of you as long-lost brothers.”

”Well, it beats having Vera Wickham as a sister.” Oliver said before he took a drag.

”Hey,” Theodore said sharply, raising a defensive finger, ”you watch your fucking mouth before I blast it off of your fat face.”

”Theodore!” Charlotte scolded. ”Manners! Please!”

”Only a joke, Teddy Bear,” teased Oliver.

”I’m not the type to clown around.” Theodore fired back. ”I’m sorry Charlotte. Vera’s my sister, you know? I don’t like when people shit on my family.”

”It’s understandable.” Charlotte nodded slowly. ”You come from a very respectable lineage.”
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T.J.W

there's something about you, it's hard to explain...
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Imogen Nott
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Imogen Nott never thought she would be allowed into such a high class place, she had grown up in the clutches of a guardian who was nice enough but also hovered over other snotty bratty kids. Imogen rolled her eyes and showed a different attitude to them, slowly becoming annoyed by their wails in the night. She would have once joined them, if she hadn’t forced herself to come to terms with what happened. To almost harden herself and show that she could be independent.

But then she realised she did have a family, and now her world had opened up. But she still craved to be independent. However for now she was with the Nott clan, with Ezra and Ronald and the head of the family, Isabella. Imogen had slipped away from the trio; she never really did feel a part of them. As she slipped through the box she looked at where Carmen was stood, surprised to actually see her in there. Imogen was ready to call out, but then her body clashed with another. “Oh god, sorry!” She called out turning to the Slytherin boys who stood in front of her.

That was when she noticed Charlotte near them as well, a woman who she had spoken to a few times due to her friendship with Isabella. She smiled at her but wasn’t sure that she would get a good response, Imogen bit the inside of her mouth and waited to hear what any of them had to say.
Posted ImageImogen Nott
Pureblood
Ravenclaw

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water elementium

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Andromeda Wickham
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IDOL OF ROSES, ICONIC SOUL

Don Draper’s words were laced with venom and alcohol. He seemed to have pented up a lifetime’s worth of grudges over his past experiences. Andromeda’s doe eyes flickered across the suite: What could have Charlotte Yaxley done to lose Mr. Draper’s trust? Collin Wickham? Max Rowle? They all seemed to be reputable adults, and all of them had always spoken kindly to Andromeda. She couldn’t imagine them holding bloody, rugged knives behind their backs.

Andromeda flushed with pleasure as Mr. Draper introduced her as his “friend” to the bartender. She had always looked up to him, a man of fine prowess and ambition motivating his every move. She firmly believed he was the right mentor to choose in her path to the auror academy. Sometimes however, her feelings disregarded the professional barrier she had forced herself to erect.

”I’ve just been studying,” she shrugged her shoulders. ”I spend the summer at the Black Manor. Sometimes I go over to Valerya Malfoy’s house for a sleepover. Teddy’s taken me to some interesting places in America. We went to the boardwalk - you know, the one in Atlantic City? It’s in a state called Jersey I think.” The waiter gently laid a martini glass filled to the brim with pink liquid and a juicy lime clinging to the edge. Andromeda stared questioningly.

”Ooh,” she whimpered softly, unsure of what to do with herself. That looks like a very adult drink. Can I handle it? A tumbler loaded with whiskey was set near Don’s hand. Andromeda glanced up and realized Don was watching her with interest. Her face began to burn scarlet as soon as they locked eyes. ”I don’t drink often. Jordy doesn’t like it. This is new to me.”

”You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Don reminded her.

”No, no. I don’t want to let it go to waste.” She reached out and clamped the stem. ”I’m an adult, right? There’s a first time for everything.” Narcissa would be so proud! Jordanna would understand, and Bellatrix wouldn’t care. Andromeda was her own person; just because her surname was Black didn’t mean she couldn’t act on her own.

Briefly, her eyes flickered upon the sight of Carmen Gray-Winters and Richard Gaunt together. Instinctively, her eyes shifted to the main bar where Theodore sat with Mrs. Yaxley, Oliver, and Imogen. She wondered if he had noticed. Not just Carmen’s presence, but Andromeda drinking with Don Draper rather than with Theodore as she had promised. He would understand, right? But she couldn’t help but wonder why Carmen. It was all beginning to look desperate.

”And ENGLAND SCORES AGAIN! Donatella’s voice echoed through the stadium.

America: 10
England: 20


”Well, cheers to that.” Andromeda rose her glass.

”Cheers.” Don clinked his against hers in celebration.
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ANDROMEDA NYMPHADORA BLACK

I loved you the first time, I loved you the last time...
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Precious Lestrange
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UNDESIRABLE NO. 1

”And thankfully his calls are smart.” Orion Lestrange replied to the mysterious stranger’s statement. She wore a tight, body-clinging dress, the perfect disguise to seduce the male gaze. She had wandered away from Jax’s side as he was busy debating the quality of quidditch broomsticks with Max Rowle. All nonsense that bored Precious Lestrange. She wanted to discuss money, power, glory, but doing so openly would prove her disguise to be useless.

She held a martini glass in a ringless hand. Gently, she swirled the contents of the clear liquid in a clock-like motion, brewing a storm at her fingertips. Her icy eyes remained focused as the players zoomed by on their broomsticks. It was quite the pleasure to experience the match up close. Some people were down in general seating seated among degenerates and filth. It was a privilege to be included.

She glanced at the pen and parchment in his hand. ”Are you making sure he’s doing his job correctly?” She asked, shifting her weight to her right leg. ”Or do you really like quidditch? You wouldn’t be the first. Some people get very passionate about the game,” Orion turned her head away from him. ”Especially when they funnel money into it,” she added under her breath. It was only a matter of time before people began flipping tables and fist fights broke out.
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House Lestrange | "Malum in Se." | Tyrant of the Northeast
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Bradley Bhodhsa
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I am Tyler "TJ" Jekyll

Michael looked up from his writings and turned to look at a blonde girl who had responded to his comment. If he were Bradley he would have given her the once over already, but right now was not the time. Maybe if she did go to that party later… Michael pushed the thought out of his mind and smiled at her. He turned to look at the match which was taking place in front of him, nothing major had happened yet. It was good for his ‘job’ line.

“Bit of both I suppose.” Michael responded calmly, his winkled fingers clutching the pen tightly. He wrote down a few more notes before turning to the much younger girl. “I make my money from it; need to make sure there isn’t too much of a mess to clean up out there.” Michael nodded towards the pitch, if anyone said anything too major or offended any fans he would have the papers on his ass asking for statements galore. That was the worst situation to be in, especially when all eyes were on these Quidditch matches.

“Managing the players has some good aspects though, I still make money whether my team wins or loses.” Michael let out a small laugh; he turned to look at the rest of the box. He was surprised at how many people could actually fit in here; the sea of people became too confusing at times. A few rumbles could be heard in the corner of the box; Michael knew that if he was being his true self he would be over there threatening the lot of them. But that wasn’t who he was today, not yet anyway.
faciem mutate[
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Jane Holloway
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he loves me with every beat of his cocaine heart

It was all fun and games until the fun had to be shared. The smile quickly vanished from Jane’s face, leaving behind an expression of stoic envy. Allison Kennedy was the All American Dream Girl, America’s Sweetheart, the red-haired patriot of the west. And not to mention that the Kennedy name held a heavy meaning. Kennedys were muggle presidents, presidents of the American Ministry itself. Holloways were bootleggers and then dwindled down to lawyers and accountants.

The action on the field continued and Donatella Vercetti’s excitable announcements fell upon deaf ears. Jane forced a warm smile as she pushed herself against Dean’s body, rightfully claiming what was hers. She didn’t take to competition kindly, even if Kennedy’s intentions were purely friendly. Jane had one good thing in her life and she was determined to not lose it. Anything and anyone could snatch Dean from her hands in the blink of an eye.

”Of course we are,” Jane’s Boston accent clashed startlingly against Kennedy’s New York linguo. ”We’re flying the colors of the American flag, aren’t we baby?” She turned and planted a wet kiss on Dean’s cheek. He chuckled uncomfortably and laid a hand on the small of her back. Suddenly, he became rigid, as if Jane had made a bad joke. She looked over Kennedy with a guarded disapproval.

I know what you are. I know what you do.

Jane sipped from her drink. ”I guess I can’t ask you the same. Weren’t you going to transfer out or something? I remember reading in the newspaper that your family had plans to transfer you to Salem. That didn’t work out? Guess you love getting your fill at Hogwarts, huh?”
Posted ImageJane Megan Holloway

One for the money, and two for the show
I love you honey, I'm ready, I'm ready to go
How did you get that way? I don't know
You're screwed up and brilliant,
Look like a million dollar man,
So why is my heart broke?


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