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Slytherin: 0 |
Ravenclaw: 0 |
Hufflepuff: 0 |
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Date: March, Year 2036 (7th Year)
Forecast: Cool with periodic rain Moon: Third Quarter |
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It is now: Time to Grow Up |
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Current Event: ??? |
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In the News: Schools destroyed in the Sisterhood attacks are beginning reparations.
Two Years Later: Brief Summary and What to Expect After the Time Skip Common Knowledge, Recent History, and Rumours Thread |
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Next day: ???
Last Time: End of Term Feast |
| Welcome to Hogwarts Reborn, the second generation of Hogwarts Interactive Role Play! We hope you enjoy your visit. First things first. Scroll all the way down to the bottom of the page and visit our CBox to say hello! You will find that there are almost always people active, and we're a pretty friendly bunch. We do hope you'll stay. If you are having issues seeing the CBox, please see this thread (click me!). If this is your first visit, please head straight to the Joining HIRP Checklist (click me!) for more information on how to register and sign up for the role play. When you're ready, feel free to register an account, and remember to use your prospective character name when doing so. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Sweden vs Japan: Quidditch World Cup Final; Year 4 - Day 16 - QWC - Day 6 - 12pm | |||||||
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| Topic Started: Feb 16 2015, 05:22:29 PM (2,475 Views) | |||||||
| Victor Malfoy | Feb 23 2015, 10:23:02 PM Post #41 | ||||||
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how many secrets can you keep?
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Victor could hear everything behind him, the roars of the crowd and the belting music. There was hardly any pause between the commentators and the singing. It hurt Victor’s head, and he couldn’t really explain why. But in all actuality, he knew why his head pulsed and his body twitched and itched with the beat of the music and stomp of feet. Alex’s question couldn’t have come at a worse time, his eyes darted to her and then he turned away again. “Fine.” He suddenly regretted even coming to the stadium, everything about it had a negative vibe which was hard to ignore. Part of him wanted to find Teddy, but the boy had been missing ever since the incident. “You’d be surprised,” Victor muttered as Alex spoke about how friends would always be there. It wasn’t always the case, and Victor knew that from experience more than anything else. Mags had only Victor there when she was in pain, Charlie came over as well but Victor wondered how many other friends they had who would have turned a blind eye just for the fun of the party. His mind flashed to Daisy Fitzroy and his fingers curled into a fist. How dare she do that to Vera, Victor could hardly contain the rage inside him, it burnt his skin and soon it would be dust between his fingertips. Victor felt sick. “I need to head off somewhere, I’ll find you later yeah?” Victor absentmindedly said as he dashed off into the crowd, maybe he was searching for certain face. Teddy, or maybe even Dolores. Part of him searched for Vera, but the realisation that he wouldn’t find her was crushing. |
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| Alex Dawson | Feb 23 2015, 11:08:16 PM Post #42 | ||||||
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Alex nodded listening to what Victor was saying. "Okay sure." Alex mumbled as he seemed upset and Alex feared that she had only made it worse. Inside Alex was screaming at herself but she covered her insecurities with a broad smile. All she could thing was. ' Shoot...I have no clue where my stupid tent is.' Alex could just imagine her mothers face. Twisted with anger and suddenly Alex didn't know what to do. She took in a deep breath. Why had she even come today? it was oblivious that she would have made a fool out of herself and family. And of course Victor wanted to leave. Alex would have too if she were him. Her heart twisted violently and she took another intake of breath. Looking around she spotted the food stand. God, she was starving. She could probably eat some food to distract herself. From far away she peered at the sign reading it. Unfortunately nothing seems appetizing. Why was Alex even sorted in Gryffindor? She wasn't brave...maybe that's what she was supposed to do...find the real Alex. Alex scoffed inside. Alex turned around and let her mind yet again wander. Alex wasn't suppressed that her mind wandered...typical Alex. She suppressed a laugh as she saw the game about to start Victor probably had to go back to his tent. She didn't blame him. Yet the look on his face. It was anger and pain mixed in one and Alex wanted so badly to help him. It was one of her flaws. Wanting to help others. But, she knew she would only make it worse. I mean she tried to help him and look how it turned out? Alex just wanted to sulk in the tent and eat popcorn with ice cream. She almost laughed at the thought. What a disgusting mix |
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| Daisy Fitzroy | Feb 24 2015, 12:13:25 AM Post #43 | ||||||
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BREAKER OF CHAINS
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A martyr's purpose was not fulfilled until she was dead. A year ago, Precious Lestrange murdered Daisy Fitzroy's father and brother, simply on the premise of their blood status. When she finished with them, she engraved Daisy's cheek with an 'M' - mudblood - so that on every instant that Daisy happened to glance at her reflection, she would be fatefully reminded of the crimes committed against her for her the blood in her veins. A week ago, the blood of Precious Lestrange was spilled. War never changed, because it does not determine anything but who is left. Surprisingly, the Vox Populi had grown in numbers. The whispers that echoed through the ears shattered the illusions of fear; people understood that the Vox wanted to help, not to fight. They were not looking for a fight. Their purpose was to protect. Alexander DeWitt's influence had certainly helped in the influx of members. But who could be trusted? Daisy was not a killer. Every night she trembled with the fear of Vera Wickham showing up at the door, knife behind her back as she grinned wickedly and casted torture spells. She rarely slept, and when she did, she dreamed of Vera's stoic face moments before death, who was, most frighteningly, alone in a room of people. Daisy was not a killer, but she had killed. Returning to Hogwarts was not an option. Staying in one place for too long was out of the question. And although the Vox offered to shelter Daisy in her time of need, Daisy politely refused. They should not feel obliged to aid her when she was the criminal. They should not lose their heads because of her actions. She was prepared to deal with the consequences. As soon as the Swedish national anthem ended, Daisy inhaled shakily. She had rehearsed it, memorized it until she could recite it without much thought. I am a martyr. What I am doing is for the good of the people. I am the voice of the people. |
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| Ioanna MacGowan | Feb 24 2015, 02:09:37 PM Post #44 | ||||||
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Ioanna glanced up as the Swedish team made their pre-game laps around the pitch, but she wasn't really interested in them. She'd only come to the game because she hand't been to one yet, and tickets had been bought for her. Ioanna had to raise her voice (something she was unaccustomed to doing) in order to be heard as the music blared throughout the stadium, saying "It's the Vox, isn't it? I mean, that's what they're afraid of. You don't think they'll do something like that again...do you?" She turned to Rose. Right. Rose wouldn't have known what actually happened the first night of the Cup. The fact that anyone knew was due to highly circumstantial things, and Ioanna didn't even understand most of how Ariella was able to just know that something had happened to her friend. As to the reasons why Ioanna knew, that was practically common knowledge; though those reasons were not really well understood, even by her. "I'm not sure the Ministry really knows what's going on," said Ioanna, "from their perspective, Fitzroy got on the announcer's feed and started rambling about evil purebloods, and then a bunch of teenagers in red started protesting all over the place." Ioanna was about to say "At least no one got hurt", but she knew that wasn't true; though, to anyone else's perspective, that would have appeared to be the case. Did Carmen know about Vera? Ioanna vaguely remembered her being in the DeWitt's private box, but she couldn't remember. Theodore had taken most of her attention, especially when it seemed he was either about to hug her or break her neck when she tried to comfort him with his twin sister's postmortem confession. Can we not think about that? More fireworks rocked the air to signify the end of Sweden's entrance ceremony, causing Ioanna to jolt in her seat again. Please let that be the last of the fucking things. Edited by Ioanna MacGowan, Feb 24 2015, 07:54:51 PM.
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| Carmen Gray-Winters | Feb 25 2015, 11:51:22 AM Post #45 | ||||||
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and I will take what is mine
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Do you always love your first love? That's the problem about falling in love so young and vulnerable, when the world is alive at your fingertips. For the rest of your winding life, others will be compared to the one who first showed you what it was like to feel reckless, out of control and, simultaneously, free from the controls that had bound you to reality for so long. Love, free falling and chaotic, gives you an avenue to stretch your wings and, finally, fly. Carmen wondered if she would always find herself wondering about Theodore Wickham, and she wondered if he even cared about her at all, anymore. Probably not. Why would he? Their histories were woven by nothing but a desperate need to feel like they belonged somewhere – anywhere – and their lost souls had only been misled by the possibility of belonging. No matter how hard Theodore Wickham tried to convince himself differently, he was destined to a life of solitude, up to his forehead into comforting amber alcohol, and Carmen, full of light, would never be able to compete. She would never be able to break through the shadows, thick and winding, that had cemented Theodore to an uncertain future, but she still ached for him, as she would ache for family. She thought of Vera and her wild eyes, only so because they were panicked, reaching out to touch the greatness of her mother, nothing but an imploding star. Carmen glanced at Ioanna, forced a smile, and found herself growing unbearably quiet, but she couldn't stand to speak. She couldn't stand to do anything but stare up at Alexander DeWitt and wonder how, how how he could justify hovering above them, sporting red... Unless there were things that Carmen didn't know. She hadn't contemplated that, but she knew Daisy just like she knew Alex. Vera. Dolly. Teddy. None of them deserved to live in this wild life that they had, somehow, stumbled upon. It took a few moments for Carmen to shove her way free from the nostalgia that had settled around her, thickening the air so that she could have very well choked on it. She jumped as Ioanna jumped against the loud booms of the fireworks overhead, and Carmen managed a tremulous laugh as she winced against the sky's cringe-worthy celebrations of both Japan and Sweden. Japanese singers? Quidditch players? This entire celebration as growing more and more fake by the second. Maybe everything was fake. Forcing a smile, Carmen glanced between the girls, trying to summon the strength to say something. “I'll be glad when this is over,” mumbled Carmen. But it would never be over... would it? |
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| Rosaleen Darcy | Feb 25 2015, 01:22:13 PM Post #46 | ||||||
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Rosaleen listened to Ioanna curiously. She hadn't been at the Quidditch match in question; she'd only shown up for this last one. She couldn't subject herself to a week of the inane game. One match was quite enough for her - for a lifetime. But now she wished she had been there for this interesting event. Who were those in power behind the scenes? Because it was them she would need to seek out - either to join or to destroy. Carmen fell silent, clearly lost in her thoughts, until she finally spoke what was on Rose's own mind. "I look forward to returning to Hogwarts. I hate the summertime. I truly do. Hogwarts is the only home I've ever known." She quickly silenced herself, not wanting to reveal too much to two complete strangers - yet she felt somehow that they would understand. She glanced at the two girls with interest. "Have you thought about what you want to do when you leave Hogwarts?" |
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| Carmen Gray-Winters | Feb 25 2015, 02:03:58 PM Post #47 | ||||||
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and I will take what is mine
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It took Carmen a few moments to realize that she, too, hadn't known a true home in quite some time. Even when her father had been alive, and Poppy was a sweet-natured, unsuspecting child, Theodore crashed into their lives, demanding absolution and a place to lay his head. Carmen's parents, of course, considered him a son; it was their own faulty hearts that accepted Theodore recklessly into their family. But then? Carmen had never known a life where her family was whole – it felt as if the only time she was comfortable anymore was when she was in the Ravenclaw dorms, smiling alongside Imogen. It was a selfish way to think, of course. Her mother and father would have sacrificed everything to make Carmen happy. But she still more at ease, and more loved, by strangers. She still felt more comfortable seeking Professor McKelvey's advice than the advice of her own mother. There was something strangely comforting about being able to return to the castle shortly, if only for another year... and that thought in itself was frightening. What then? What would Carmen do with herself? “I know what you mean,” sighed Carmen. “But I haven't thought about the future much.” It wasn't as if her family didn't have connections everywhere; it was almost obnoxious the amount of strings her mother could pull. Even her godmother, a skilled Auror, was about to rise to power in her own right. Carmen was set for life. So why was she now, suddenly, starting to feel misled? “I could be an Auror. Or a professor,” said Carmen, shrugging. “Or anything at all. I've always wanted to be a mother, so that's on my list, too. I don't necessarily think a woman needs to sacrifice her goals of having a white picket fence just to have a career. I'd like to do it all, don't you think?” |
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| Alexander DeWitt | Feb 25 2015, 05:06:05 PM Post #48 | ||||||
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J A E G E R
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"What an amazing performance - don't you agree Eddie? I've never seen anything with such passion and patriotism." "The Swedish pride themselves in their history and their customs and it just so happens that quidditch plays a large role in their culture." Alexander's focus began to careen off track. The commentators continued talking, their echoing voices bouncing off the hallowed walls of Alexander's skull. He glanced down at his right arm: The crimson band sat wrapped perfectly around his bicep, a bow to hold the present together. He stared for a few seconds before glancing into the distance. The world was watching. What would his mother think? She trusted him too much to do the right thing. "At least you're not as bad as Theodore." She would say, staring at her broken hands. At least? Alexander felt as if he was nearly there, two words away from an unannounced disappearance. Every grandchild of Annik Dolohov was doomed to burn their own paths. Vera was dead. Why was that difficult to swallow? Vera Wickham was dead, and Alexander supported her murderer. They would see. One day, this would make sense. Alexander wasn't used to disappointing people, but he knew it was vital. The world just wasn't a safe place anymore. "Annnnnnnd the match is set to begin in a few minutes!" |
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| Alice Rowle | Feb 25 2015, 05:22:32 PM Post #49 | ||||||
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she is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness
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Up in the cocktail lounge, Alice Rowle sat alone at the bar, contemplatively stirring a virgin apple martini with the tip of her baby finger. She was an angel in white, her lips red with sin and her platinum hair pulled above her head. The longing glances became more apparent the longer she was alone. Waiting for someone? Fortunately not. Company would be pleasurable, but it would have to be with the right person. If she could be honest with herself, she would admit that she stopped caring about qudditch days ago. After the first match, she wanted to return home to America, to her sprawling mansion up in the Hamptons. Her parents denied her freedom. She had made a few friends, but those were through Oliver's kind extension. Among them, she felt like a spy, scoping them out to learn their opinions of Salem and the other schools. They were friendly - too friendly, and it made Alice uncomfortable. Making new friends at Hogwarts was the least of her troubles. There was still the unexplained strange phenomena she experienced - her random bouts of mania, the unexpected murderous burst. Where did those come from? What would she do with them? Alice was terrified that one day she would not retain the control to keep her idle hands off of her wand. Sometime after the start of the World Cup, she had inhaled a hostile ghost and it had settled comfortably in the cage of her bones. It owned her soul. Unimpressed, Alice crossed her legs. Every time Donatella spoke, Alice's eye twitched, almost as if to trigger a deep, unconscious hatred to resurface. I am not myself. I am someone else. Alice thought, kissing the rim of her glass. She swallowed. There is something inside of me that I cannot control. It is a monster. Slowly, Alice lowered her drink, her attention instantly drawn to Alexander DeWitt's face. She wouldn't deny her attraction, but the fact that she found him appealing made her slightly queasy, almost as if it were wrong. Why? Was it because he would never know of her existence? Was it because he was a few years older than her? Or could it be that they were of the same bad blood? A shudder rippled through Alice's spine. |
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| Theodore Wickham | Feb 25 2015, 07:43:49 PM Post #50 | ||||||
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IMPERATOR
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Time is an illusion. Once that fact is accepted, daily life becomes a steadfast dream. Purgatory was not only home, but it was home forever. It would take a while to settle comfortably in a new nest. A few stiff drinks, a few wild nights, and suddenly home was too much, and you just wanted to wake from your nightmare, but you had already dropped too deep underneath the surface, bricks in your pockets, and suddenly you realized what forever really meant. Everything was temporary. Everything. Theodore Wickham was made of broken glass shards glued together. They would shamble and scatter at the slightest breeze, but fortunately, the windows of opportunity were nailed shut. He had endured, and endured, and still endured. Theodore Julian Wickham could bear any pain as long as it had meaning. Meaning? What did it matter? What was the point in anything? Theodore had shut the door to the chamber of reflection long ago; he had learned from the most difficult aspects of life. What he needed to do was to cease behaving recklessly and garner control of the mess that was his life. Unanswered owls were becoming urgent. People asked about him, but he was dismissive about their care, he felt as if he did not deserve their kindness. Death changes people. For his entire life, Theodore believed his family to be untouchable. Vera and Theodore were invincible, because Precious had convinced her children that she was God, and God did not abandon Her followers. And then tragedy struck - quicker than a bolt of lightening, with a resounding thunder that would haunt him until his own death. His twin, the soul that was intertwined with his before birth, was dead. Theodore stared at her ghost. He blinked. He rubbed his tired eyes. Was it a ghost? An illusion? The world continued to buzz passed the lounge's windows: The match was starting soon. But Theodore couldn't see passed the platinum-haired dame that sat alone at the bar, stirring her drink with a disinterested look on her face. Theodore's heart suddenly leaped into life. He walked forward, his spine stiff and his jaw locked. The nightmare was over. He stopped at her side, unsure of how to voice his confusion. Sensing his gaze, she turned, and she looked at him, and as sure as he knew he would die, he knew that he could feel part of his soul in her cold stare. Theodore couldn't speak. They watched, almost as if they had known each other in a different lifetime. He choked on his words - oh God, the world was spinning, she was here! "Vera?" |
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| Victor Malfoy | Feb 25 2015, 08:03:20 PM Post #51 | ||||||
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how many secrets can you keep?
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Victor had pushed through the crowd as the national anthems bellowed out, they rocked the stadium as people rushed around them. They all wanted to get in on the action, watch the game with their own eyes and do it from the best possible views. Victor just wanted a moment or two alone, everything was spinning and he could smell copper in his nose. Although, he could have easily mistaken the smell of copper for something else. The crowds began to thin out as he got to a higher section of the stadium. His hand pressed against a window as he closed his eyes and lowered his head. Victor had stopped to catch his breath, everything around him was beginning to fill with a red light which burrowed into his head and let out an almighty scream. Victor swallowed back the saliva that coated his mouth, his fingers quivered against the glass as he pulled his hand away. There was a squeak, Victor opened his eyes and looked to the window where his hands had left a mark. Beyond the smudged glass was a foggy figure. His eyes narrowed as he stared at whoever was there, but it felt too familiar. But it looked practically empty in there, Victor needed to get out of the noise. He pushed himself to the cocktail lounge door and quietly slipped through. The silence was comforting. It was almost as though the room blocked out the yells. Victor rested his back on the nearest wall and pressed the back of his head to it. It was cool. He sighed. His eyes flickered opened and that was when he saw the two figures, both felt too familiar. Victor almost fell forward. “Teddy?” Victor coughed out, but as he said that it seemed as though Theodore had already called another name. Vera. It was as though the air had been dragged from his lungs, suffocating him on the spot. Victor’s mouth hung open, he staggered forward before stopping himself. He just stood in the background, part of him not wanting to interrupt and the rest of him wanting to storm over there and see if this was real. But it had to be. The walls were cool and the shaking of the stadium was obvious under his feet. Victor didn’t need to pinch himself, but maybe Teddy did. |
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| Alexandra Dupont | Feb 25 2015, 08:06:53 PM Post #52 | ||||||
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monsters under your bed, monsters inside your head...
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Alexandra watched her like a hawk over tired, bloodshot eyes. Her face was crafted of marble, so familiar that it made Alexandra feel sick to her stomach with guilt and pain. She asked for sleep, and begged for it, but nothing came. The sound of Cordelia Yaxley's screams reverberated in her skull, pounding like drumbeats. She was not here for Quidditch, and not here to find hope among a sea of nameless faces, each cheering their hearts out. She was here because something had whispered sweetly into her ear, an invisible thread pulling her forward, through the crowds. It led her here, staring over the rim of a drink at Alice Rowle, a familiar face that now seemed... different. From the shadows, she watched. Theodore Wickham, a handsome man of secrets and darkness, spit out her name first. Alexandra smirked, downing the rest of her drink. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she calmed her unsteady breath. As her eyes reopened, she saw Victor Malfoy stumble over, just as stupefied. Neither man could know the power that Alice Rowle held inside of her soul, contained like a diamond in a golden setting. Despite all reason, Alexandra knew what had led her here. She knew what whispered to her now. I feel you here, Vera. Alexandra stepped forward and cleared her throat, confident in black that hugged each curve of her frame. “Don't be stupid,” said Alexandra, turning to face Alice. She smiled. “You don't even know who Vera is... do you?” |
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| Alice Rowle | Feb 25 2015, 08:29:17 PM Post #53 | ||||||
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she is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness
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Like flies to honey, Alice was suddenly swarmed with an overbearing presence of strangers. Instinct told her to erect walls and spit venom. The ghost inside of her wanted to smash their skulls, blood painted on concrete, their names fading into history like she had. Alice, the real Alice, begged her to submit. Flash that killer smile. Lure them in and close the trap after it was too late. Theodore Wickham was, undeniably, handsome in person. Alice's distant cousin, Oliver Rowle, had mentioned the Wickham boy in passing: "Oh yeah, he's like a brother to me. We do everything together. But he's a dangerous kid, you know? If you want to live to see the end of your seventh year, stay clear from him. I'm not a saint, but he sure is a demon in disguise." Being from America, Alice was oblivious to the important families overseas. In America, respect was earned, not assumed. Alice glanced over him. He looked like death, his eyes bruised, his gaunt face reminding her of a sullen child. And strangely, she yearned to reach outward and caress his cheek. What would happen if she did? He would break her. And as sadistic as it sounded, the thought slightly thrilled Alice. She loved a challenge. She adored tragedy. Vera. Who was Vera? Alice's stomach churned. She had heard rumors. Her mother would fuss up a storm at the dinner table back in their tent, adamantly denying that the child of the notorious Precious Lestrange was dead. However, the first step in the grieving process was denial, and Alice was convinced Mrs. Rowle refused to accept the fact because she was mourning, not because she genuinely believed the Wickham children were invincible. Alice's eyes jumped sharply to the boy behind him. His face was softer, gentler, more welcoming, but when Alice looked into his eyes, she felt her heart burn bright with passion. You. Alice was slightly frightened that she felt as if she knew the boy. Immediately, she craved his touch, his smile. Their hearts were connected by a fading string. The universe was allowing them a second chance. And finally, her attention was pulled by a warm purr. The hair on Alice's neck prickled. Alice remained silent throughout the entire exchange, her calculating mind running through different scenarios, envisioning their faces in a spinning carousel of memories. This felt strangely familiar; a tragic case of Deja vu. Alice looked at the beautiful vixen before her and felt a coil of envy snake around her heart. But there was also a sense of kinship. The girl was a friend. Sometime ago, she was a friend... Alice remained calm and smiled softly. "You know, since the first day of the Cup, people have approached me asking if I was Vera," she said coolly, pausing to sip from her drink. She set it down, her eyes on Theodore. "I'm not her, but whoever she is, she must be very beautiful." |
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| Theodore Wickham | Feb 25 2015, 08:43:06 PM Post #54 | ||||||
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IMPERATOR
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Theodore's heart deflated. He felt his stomach drop, disappointment flooding his chest in a melancholy, drowning sea. If not Vera Svetlana Wickham, then who was she? And, did Theodore actually believe his sister could be alive when he had seen her laid to sleep in her casket? The memory jerked at his heartstrings. He nodded softly, swallowed the lump in his throat. Reality was cruel. He glanced at Victor and was slightly relieved to see a familiar face. Victor Malfoy reminded Theodore of scraped knees, imaginary duels and camping trips in the Wickham estate's forest. And after all this time, Victor was always there. Always. He was deeply rooted to the Wickham twins - behind Ariella, Victor was likely the only person to be connected to both Theodore and Vera. Alexandra Dupont had been a friend of Vera's. And, amusingly, was Carmen Gray-Winters's cousin. She was a startling contrast to Carmen. It was slightly difficult to believe that they were related. Carmen was gentle-eyed and loved with all of her heart. Alexandra was a loaded pistol, an ocean in her hips and a boys on her lips. Theodore's stare lingered for too long. He turned back to the stranger. "My mistake," he grumbled. "You resemble her too much." He had been a fool to think the universe would grant him another chance. Perhaps he had set his hopes too high too soon. "She was well-known around here, wasn't she?" He glanced at Alexandra again. Theodore sighed and bowed his head. He felt like a total shit head for ignoring his friends. He felt even worse for abandoning his mother when she needed him. That was his problem: People needed him too much, and he just wasn't the person to care. He cared from a distance in his own way. He was taught to love differently than others, and people didn't understand that. "Mind if I join you?" He asked, motioning to the bar. His tongue throbbed with desire. Scotch. Whiskey. He would need it to make it through the day. Forever. It was his life-force. Alice rose her glass. "As long as you buy me a drink." Theodore settled comfortably, his heart heavy with sorrow. He almost forgot about his friends. "Join us?" He offered. "I'll buy us rounds. One to celebrate Alexander's success. Another to apologize because I'm an asshole. And another in honor of Vera." |
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| Poppy Gray-Winters | Feb 25 2015, 09:00:47 PM Post #55 | ||||||
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and wide, in a scarlet tide, the poppy's bonfire spread
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There were bouncers near the bar, tough-skinned men with complexes once they were denied an Auror career track. Their hardened gazes melted into pools at Poppy's feet, although she suspected that it had less to do with her sweet, easygoing nature and more to do with the fact that nearly everyone was afraid of her curse and Sally Haze's daddy, Don. Well, not daddy. Just dad. Poppy glanced sideways at her friend, excitement quickening the pulse throbbing in her wrists. Adrenaline pulled her forward, where Poppy skipped, leaned her elbows against the bar top, and widened her eyes at the wild selection of tall, colorful bottles decorating behind the bar. Overhead, crystal glasses were all organized on shelves. Poppy, distracted by the bold labels and thousands of options, let out a low whistle as she glanced at Sally. “I don't even know where to start,” she said, bemused. Carmen always ordered champagne, but Poppy thought even that was a little too prim for her first secret adventure with alcohol. “Say, Sally. What does your dad drink? That's a good starting point, right?” As the bartender approached, Poppy squealed. “Pick, quick something!” she chirped, and then erupted into a fit of giggles. She couldn't have been more fifteen if she tried but the bartender, rolling his eyes, recognized both of the girls' faces. They could thank the Prophet for this round of drinks, anyway. The bartender exhaled heavily, reaching to fill glasses of burning amber jet fuel for them. It was then that a curtain of raven hair caught Poppy's eye. She turned, arched an eyebrow, and her smile widened. “Alex! What the heck! Hey! Sally, you know my cousin Alexandra, right? How funny that we're here, right?” Poppy winked, her attitude pure sunshine. That's when Poppy caught who was beside her. Poppy's smile faltered slightly as she spotted Alice Rowle, fellow Ravenclaw, Victor Malfoy, and... “Oh my actual God,” blurted Poppy. |
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| Sally Haze | Feb 25 2015, 09:16:32 PM Post #56 | ||||||
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LITTLE SISTER
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Young and only fifteen, Sally felt frighteningly calm as she walked alongside Poppy into the bar. Most kids had their first drinks at the Yule Ball - also known as shittily spiked punch that could hardly bring on a good buzz. Sally's father, adoptive father, always kept the home stocked with elaborate labels. They drew her curiosity, but she was terrified of what waited for her if she dared to rip off the golden foil. She had had a cigarette once, stolen from Dean's room. But never a drink. Sally had always wanted to adapt into her family: Don and Dean drank and smoke. Dolly drank occasionally, family parties, and when she became too intoxicated, Sally had to hold her sister's hair above her head while she puked into the toilet. Sally's mother smoked occasionally, but Sally knew that Camilla's dinner glass of wine would start to come at noon if things continued spiraling out of control. Sally followed Poppy's gaze. There was a strange ensemble of students from Hogwarts: Victor Malfoy, Hufflepuff prefect, one whom which Sally only knew through her sister. Alexandra Dupont. Sally's eyes widened at the raven-haired girl's beauty. Wow. Sally thought, her self-esteem plummeting into rock bottom. Alexandra must have had drinks bought for her all the time. And strangely enough, she sort of resembled Sally's sister... And... The Wickham twins? Sally's heart leaped into her throat. No, no. Camilla had sat Sally down and explained this to her. Vera was gone. Gone in the sense of... Forever. She was a gone girl, and Sally knew that she was too young to comprehend what forever really meant, but she knew that Vera Wickham was not supposed to be sitting at a bar, casually chatting with her friends. The same excitement that flared in Poppy's eyes mirrored in Sally's heart. Theodore?! Sally's supposed cousin. Her savior. When night fell upon Hogwarts and had consumed Sally's innocent soul, it was Theodore that had sucked the darkness from her and allowed it to feed onto him. If it weren't for him, she would have disappeared into the darkness. "Ted?!" Sally blurted, unable to contain her glee. She gripped Poppy's wrist. "I-It's him! He's here! I thought Ted was dead!" Sally released her friend and bounded forward, an excitable nymphet with only love in her heart. Beaming, she threw her arms around Theodore and hugged. "Don - my dad - Dolly - we all thought you were gone! Oh gosh, they're gonna be so happy to hear about this. Where have you been?!" She released him, her chinks flushed with color. She smelled of innocence and purity. "I came here with Poppy. We wanted to... See a few things before the game was over." Sally flashed a mischievous look at Poppy. "Didn't we, Pops?" |
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| Victor Malfoy | Feb 25 2015, 09:27:07 PM Post #57 | ||||||
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how many secrets can you keep?
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Victor couldn’t believe what was right in front of him, her head turned and the woman sat there was like the ghost of a former woman. Alexandra slid from the shadows, she was never a true snake. She was from the French school, those were her roots. But she spoke as though she knew so much, Victor didn’t pay much attention though. His eyes were stuck on the woman sat at the bar, their eyes locked together for a moment and he felt his stomach churn. His hand instantly went to his mouth as he felt the bile rise up his throat, threatening to spill out everywhere. Victor swallowed his back, keeping his hand over his mouth as his body shook. The headache was getting worse now, the pounding and the beating with a ghost sat in front of him. But the voice pulled him back. It wasn’t her voice. Victor couldn’t believe the woman was there, how could this be real? Theodore’s voice brought him back further, and when Victor pulled his hand back from his mouth the sickly feeling came rumbling back. His teeth tingled and his hand shook, as though he was stood in the freezing cold. The words flew over his head, only when Theodore asked him to join them did Victor even think about moving. He had to know. Maybe if he went up close to her, she would be different than Vera. Her face would have tiny freckles, or her jawline would curve in a different way. The differences would become obvious, and his stomach could settle. But as he walked forward a loud, annoying voice that grated on his very existence pierced his ears. Victor was not one to yell, but his head thudded and he stomped his foot into the ground stopping himself. He turned around to look at Poppy and Sally. Victor’s eyes would usually soften, but now they were too harsh. Angry. His silent field had been slapped, and these girls could giggle so loudly his head would fall right off his neck. Victor spun back around and walked over to the seat, his glare quickly breaking at the site of Ver-. Alice. “I’m Victor.” He muttered, his fingers itching at the side of his jacket hoping to find a calming potion. His eyes flickered up to Alice, he froze wanting to look for the differences but he couldn’t stare. It hurt. Instead, Victor glanced over to Theodore. “Can we talk later?” He asked. But it wasn’t that he wanted to talk, he just wanted to sit with someone who wouldn’t constantly be asking him questions or screaming in his face about how the tears should stain his cheeks. Victor turned to look at the bar, his back to the rest of the stadium. Sally’s screaming pierced his ears and Victor pressed his palms onto his head. How could a moment with such opportunity be ruined by the screaming of two children? |
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| Poppy Gray-Winters | Feb 25 2015, 09:29:53 PM Post #58 | ||||||
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and wide, in a scarlet tide, the poppy's bonfire spread
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Theodore Wickham was, if possible, even more handsome than how Carmen had described. Poppy felt herself plummet into a thick, churning sea of guilt. Carmen would have loved to be the one standing here, in Poppy's place; Poppy was undeserving of locking eyes with Theodore now, noticing how worn and tired he seemed to be. But Poppy could only feel excitement bubble up inside of her, as if Theodore Wickham was something of a celebrity she had only ever heard about... and she was sure that Teddy, despite never knowing her face, had heard of her curious, tumultuous story. “Right. It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Poppy Gray-Winters, and... I've heard a lot about you.” Poppy smiled, and glanced down to the drink in her hand. The only thing left to do was chug. She lifted the glass to her lips, screwed her eyes shut, and sipped down the fiery whiskey until her brain boiled, fingertips rattled and its quiet, sleepy warmth trickled down her throat, into her stomach, where it sat heavy. This was probably why her mother drank so much, but – blech! The taste of it! Poppy immediately scrunched up her face, lips puckered in disgust. “It's an acquired taste, huh? I'll never be able to drink as much as my sister. She's slowed down now a lot since Elias, though. Hasn't she, Alex?” Elias. Handsome, strong, and friendly, there was a secret behind Elias' light eyes just like Teddy's. Oblivious to any silent tension among their group, Poppy could only focus on the curious buzzing around her head that was throbbing slightly, thanks to her stiff drink. She shuddered, thinking of Orion, and exactly how angry her mother would be if she saw her now. Better drink up while she could. Poppy plucked her glass from the bar and lifted it up to her lips. This time, she tried to feign the primness she saw Alex exude, like a real lady. The alcohol still tasted like car gasoline, but it was better than nothing, and the way it made Poppy want to smile from ear to ear was well worth the burn. Definitely worth it. That was when Poppy noticed Victor brooding, whispering to Theodore like a sodden puppy. Poppy rolled her eyes, but bit her tongue, not wanting to offend her cousin's friends – this, of course, was a new skill. She wasn't exactly used to not shouting her emotions at every opportunity she got, but perhaps she could call it progress as she slowly lifted her drink to her lips again, sipping slowly. |
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| Alice Rowle | Feb 25 2015, 09:58:25 PM Post #59 | ||||||
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she is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness
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"Alice Rowle." Alice spoke strongly and clearly, as if to introduce herself to the entire room. Rowle carried meaning in England, but in America, they were seen as foreign dignitaries. Despite Alice's family living in New York for twenty-three years, the American families continued to view them as outsiders. They were invited to Christmas parties and birthdays, but they were treated as if they were visiting from another country. "Of course." Theodore whispered back to Victor, his fingers tapping idly on the bar-top. He at least owed Victor some explanation. Christ, Theodore had hurt a lot of people. Andromeda would be furious with him if he didn't visit her soon. And Alex? Dolly. There were too many people he needed to apologize to. But why? Alice pursed her lips into a thin line. She watched coldly, her drink losing its flavor with each passing second. She glanced out the window. The screens were flashing with jersey numbers and rigid faces. This felt right somehow, and Alice was concerned at how comfortable she felt with these strangers. They had swept her up in their whirlwind, and she had went with the winds of change willingly. It took effort for Theodore refrain from dismissing Poppy Gray-Winters and Sally Haze. They were too young to be in a bar - where were their parents? Theodore's stomach churned. Where were their siblings? Carmen? Did she continue to support Alexander despite his alliance? Dolores? What poor man had she tricked into her web of lies? "She's slowed down now a lot since Elias, though..." Theodore's eyebrows rose questioningly. Elias? As in, Elias Yaxley? The Third? Elias never let you forget that he was the Third of his name. Theodore had always thought of the kid as obnoxious. He tried too hard to be smart. He thought his sadness was poetic and deep, and Theodore found it presumptuous that Elias took himself too seriously. Was that what Carmen wanted? Teddy's stomach clenched. Where were you when I needed you? He glanced away, this throat tightened as he pulled his hands into fists. He knew that deep down, he never deserved her. But after all this time, a small part of him felt that she was obliged to comfort him in his time of need. But that was not right. He was too late. "You're quite popular here," said Alice, her eyes twinkling with marvel. She smiled at Theoodre, a piece of her heart fluttering with excitement. Her attention darted between Alexandra and Victor, and she tried desperately to read the history between them. Their body language signaled a tangled vine of thorns. Curious, Alice wanted to reach out and untangle it, knowing that in the process, her hands would bleed profusely. "I feel like I know you. All of you." Alice said in a serious tone. She felt Theodore's curious gaze. Her heart began to gallop. "Interestingly, I'm beginning my first year of Hogwarts this fall. I'm a transfer from Salem. My father wanted to move back to England to reconnect with his family roots. You might know my cousin, Oliver," she tapped her nails against the marble, her eyes burning bright. Tell them what they want to hear. Alice leaned back and exhaled loudly. "It's a pleasure to make friends beforehand. Even if a few of you seem..." She glared at Poppy and Sally. "A bit overbearing." |
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| Emma Gray | Feb 25 2015, 10:01:24 PM Post #60 | ||||||
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I SEE A BAD MOON RISING
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Were the fireworks really necessary? Jumping with shock every now and then, Emma glared up at the sky with Addie sitting behind her. They had secured good seats thanks to a “VIP box”, although Emma didn't exactly feel like a very important person. The men in suits guarding the entrance with their wands withdrawn, however, would classify Emma and Addie as surpassing very important. Impatiently, Emma wandered over to the bar in their box, pouring herself a glass of wine. Orion was still missing despite his daughter's birthday party being at midnight, and Orion Black disappearing could only mean that nothing good had happened. A little worried, Emma was wondering where Dave was, too. He had been invited to sit up in their VIP box, along with the Weasley clan, although Emma suspected that both families would rather be in the middle of the excitement, in the stands with their friends. Emma yawned. Quidditch wasn't what was interesting anymore, and most of her was only here to make sure that nobody else went and got killed. She sipped her wine slowly, glancing at Addie. “Don't judge me. It's five o'clock somewhere, or something like that.” After all, if any two women on the planet had earned a drink, it would surely be Emma and Addie. Emma snickered. “Grab a glass. I think the worst has already happened, don't you think?” Although, if Emma had learned anything in her nearly forty years of life, it was that life had a way of exploding in your face at the least opportune moments. |
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Ariella - Sirius - Emma - Tinsley - And More
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1:54 PM Jul 11
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HIRP now has a Common Knowledge, Recent Events, and Rumours thread, which contains all the information that your characters should know having grown up in our world. Please be sure to check it out and feel free to use the knowledge in character. If you have suggestions for minor characters who might be well known, please contact a staff member. |






















































1:54 PM Jul 11