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Gryffindor: 0 |
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 (2,471 Views) | |||
| Gwen Montague | Mar 4 2015, 10:13:24 PM Post #121 | ||
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“No idea.” Gwen quickly commented as Max seemed to be explaining his question. She didn’t see the point for the explanation, he didn’t need to act as though he had no concern. Gwen turned back to him and shrugged her shoulders. Herself and Victor were close, but she wasn’t his only good friend. Mags hadn’t been seen since the previous mess that was Sirius Black’s party. Victor had taken her home, and Gwen wasn’t even sure if he would be at the match. “He might not be here. But if he is, then the Malfoy booth is the best bet.” Gwen explained quickly, the booth was only a few doors down. Each of them were full of different types of people, if Victor was here he would have to be in one of them. It was sad how he seemed to be taking Vera’s death badly, she hadn’t expected it to affect him this much. But as she thought about it even more it seemed as though there was no other reaction he could give. They were expected to be together in the end, have blonde children with perfect faces and mischievous grins. One of them was just dust now. A body without a soul, and if there were ever a ghost then it would be doomed to forever haunt the stadium. Who could ever want that? |
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| Theodore Wickham | Mar 4 2015, 10:46:58 PM Post #122 | ||
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A sudden idea streaked across Theodore's mind like a meteor. He removed his arm from Sally's shoulders, unable to trust himself as the darkness curled in his throat like a serpent of malice. First and foremost, he needed to ensure that Sally Haze would be in safe hands. He owed it to the Draper family to protect her as if she were his own. Unfortunately, Theodore had a reputation for fucking up absolutely everything in his life, so his next action was going to be a gamble. He turned to Alice, his eyes hardened into steel. "I know we just met," he began, feeling himself in her reflection, their souls interwoven deeper than just an acquaintanceship. "But there's a favor I need to ask of you. There is something I need to do but - certain limitations - " his eyes flickered to Sally's oblivious profile - "prevent me from following through. Can I trust you?" Alice's eyes lightened with a realization that she would be needed for this task. It was almost as if she had read his mind; she set down her glass, suddenly fully attentive to his words and his body language. Theodore was grateful that she understood the severity of the situation. Most strangers, most friends, like Victor Malfoy and Alexandra Dupont, would have fled the moment tensions began to escalate. But not Alice. There was something about her that seemed to have an undying loyalty, almost like an invisible cord that they could not sever. Theodore turned to Sally, his heart weighed down by the sadness of her large, pleading eyes. "Sally, listen to me please," he began, holding her tiny palms in his large, calloused hands. The hands that had delivered destruction and death. How surreal was it to think that he had strangled someone to death with them, and now he held them for the comfort of another? "There's something - something I've got to do. It's important, Sal, and I can't have you with me when I do it." Sally's bottom lip trembled, her eyes watery and red as if she had inhaled a desert. It didn't take long for the teardrops to drip down her face. "B-But Teddy, I'm so scared," she wept softly, drawing the attention of a few nearby patrons. Theodore hushed her quietly, using his thumbs to dab away her sorrow. "I know, I know you are, everyone's scared. Even I'm scared, see?" Attempting a smile, Theodore held up his left palm, and to his amusement, it was shaking like a leaf clinging to a dead tree branch. Though in truth, Theodore's hand wasn't trembling due to anxiety or fear. It trembled with a bridled fury that could only be quelled with the spilling of blood. "Alice is gonna get you back to your mother. You're gonna see Dolly again - and Dean, don't forget, they'll be waiting for you. They're looking for you right now." "Why can't you do it?" Sally sniffled, rubbing her nose with her sleeve. "I told you Sal. There's something... Important I need to do. It's to make sure that everyone in this stadium is safe. Don't you want that?" He peered into her eyes, giant watery orbs that faintly reminded him of Don Draper. For an adopted child, Sally chillingly resembled her family, but that might have been a coincidence or a good thing. "Do you trust me? I trust Alice. Alice will take care of you. Count to one hundred, and this will all be over, I promise." Sally glanced wearily over Theodore's shoulder, where Alice stood, wand drawn and her hand held outward to the little sister. Alice, in her marble visage, looked extremely intimidating with half of her face hidden by the lounge's shadows, her red lips and her strong hands. And miraculously, Sally found that she could trust her. Wordlessly, Sally took Alice's hand and nodded. Theodore nodded solemnly and moved aside. "The Draper suite is a few floors beneath the DeWitt suite. Take her there. Just tell them that I sent you." And without another word, he strode out of the lounge. |
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| Alice Rowle | Mar 4 2015, 11:02:24 PM Post #123 | ||
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she is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness
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Suddenly, Alice was tasked with the objective of returning the little one home. Sally's warm hand throbbed in Alice's palm, full of life and mystery, and in comparison, Alice's hand felt cold, nearly death-like. Alice swallowed the lump in her throat as both girls watched Theodore Wickham leave the lounge. She could feel it in her marrow: Something Wickham this way comes. "Come on," Alice breathed, walking confidently in the same direction Wickham had vanished. "It might be a long walk. I don't know what floor we're on - it might not be long at all. All I know is that I made a promise and I need to follow through with it." Alice kept her arms glued to her sides, her wand hidden beneath the hem of her dress in case she would need it on a moments notice. The people they passed became a blur. A few were too drunk to notice the blonde duo walking briskly down the corridors. Others were focused on the match - or the lack of, and spewed profanities into the air as they egged the match onward. All of this faded into the background of Alice's conscious. Protect, protect, protect, she must protect the one she held. "Ladies and gentlemen," Eddie Carrow's voice echoed, sounding rather flat and controlled rather than his usual chipper, gay banter. "Please remain calm as last minute discrepancies are sorted out," Alice suddenly broke into a jog. She felt as if the corridor walls were closing in on her, reminding her that time was ticking and she was losing in the race. Come on, come on, Draper suite, where are you? They slowed when a band of aurors appeared on the horizon, stoic and intimidating. Alice's breath drew to a halt. "Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen," Sally continued to count to one hundred under her breath, her eyes lowered to the floor. Theodore's promise. One hundred and that was it. "Have you in anyway been associated with Daisy Fitzroy or the Vox Populi?" One auror stepped in front of Alice and glared threatening at her from behind vacant, gray eyes. Alice stopped in her tracks and pushed Sally behind her, the instincts of a protective mother lioness overcoming her. "No," Alice said breathlessly, her eyes flickering to the aurors lined behind him. "Never have and I never will." Then, on a moments notice, she grabbed Sally's hand again and pushed passed them before they could protest. "The match will begin again in one minute." "Twenty-nine, thirty. Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three," Sally rolled on, his promise ringing in her ears. |
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| Addie Lumineux | Mar 4 2015, 11:14:17 PM Post #124 | ||
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"I don't," Addie murmured simply, a frown creasing her eyebrows. She let her gaze slip from the pitch to Lucius, and back again. "Why haven't the Malfoy's corrected him? Some of you are down there running the show, aren't you?" There was a lot going on under the surface, hidden rivalries, motives, plots... The problem was that she didn't know what they were, and she wanted to. Oh, did she ever want to. Addie hated not knowing what was going on. I've spent too much time fighting an old war to realize a new one has popped up around us. It was good she was returning to Hogwarts. Everything always came back to that school. |
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| Theodore Wickham | Mar 4 2015, 11:27:07 PM Post #125 | ||
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I know where you are. Theodore's eyes were black pools of hatred. He threw open the door to the stadium's fire escape, the fury of wood smacking against concrete reverberating compactly. Heart racing, he tore down the steps, each stomp of his foot gleefully reminding him of smashing Daisy Fitzroy's skull underneath his boot. I know where you are. I know where you are. I'm coming for you. Growing impatient, Theodore gripped the banister and hopped over to the staircase underneath, his ankles screaming in pain as he continued to barrel downward. He landed sloppily, cursing out in pain as he ignored the piercing sensation in his joints and pushed himself forward. He could feel a fire igniting in his chest. One step at a time, and then twice, and then he was moving so fast he was gripped by the fear that he would misplace his steps and fall. But determination carried him through. He would live to see one final battle. Finally, Theodore was certain that he had made it to the underbelly of the stadium. The foul odor of piss and week-old spilled soda filtered into his nose. The pipes dripped from the sewage, tapping against the soaked concrete. Hairy rats scampered across the floor, gnawing on moldy popcorn. The navel of the stadium was a cold, damp and dark place. An ideal location for someone to hide from the crowds. Fortunately for Theodore, seeing in the darkness was not an obstacle, because he was the darkness. A predator in the night, he slowed to a prowl, his panicked breaths echoing against the stadium's metal beams. Up above, Eddie Carrow's voice rumbled the stands, but underneath, it merely sounded like a voice coming from another room. Theodore swallowed the lump in his throat. "Daisy!" He called out hoarsely, his tongue slick with malice. Theodore's fingers trembled with blood-lust. He clenched his jaw and waited for her response. Nothing. He did not expect less from a coward. "Daisy Fitzroy!" Theodore said into the darkness again, the rodents fleeing at the edge in his tone. He drew his wand, though he doubted he would need it, and aimed it at the nothingness that surrounded him. If she was hiding, he would find her. "I know you murdered Vera," he said, pausing to listen for any sound of movement. "You've always had a thing against my family, haven't you? First my mother. Then my sister. What's it going to take to get me?" Theodore slowly walked in a circle, his heart beating, pumping ice through his veins. He knew that with every fiber being, that as sure as night followed day, that as sure as he would die one day, that the moment he saw a flash of dark skin he would shoot a Killing Curse straight at her. No mercy. Martyrs died for their cause, and if Daisy wanted to behave like one, she would die like one. Finally, he found his answer in the sloppy falter of a footstep in a badly placed puddle. Theodore whirled around and shrieked: "CRUCIO!" |
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| Petra Nefertari | Mar 4 2015, 11:42:34 PM Post #126 | ||
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SAND SNAKE
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A pained shriek escaped Petra Nefertari's lips as she fumbled and fell to the ground, her shin bleeding with a stinging pain. Thomas White collapsed beside her, the target of Theodore Wickham's torture curse, and consequently began writhing on the cold floor. Petra began to sob hysterically as she clutched her leg, and in the panicked heated moment, believed that she was going to die within the minute. "We're not Daisy! Please, we're not Daisy Fitzroy!" Petra sobbed, her tears blurring her vision. Before this had happened, she and Thomas were fleeing the area after delivering Fitzroy's message. They had went into hiding between the beams - the aurors didn't bother going too far into the underbelly of the stadium - and were in the process of fleeing when they heard Theodore Wickham's daunting voice challenging them. Petra knew that he was out for blood. She had seen Vera Wickham die under Daisy's wrath, and a boy like Theodore could only grieve by murdering the murderer. That wasn't to say that Petra had enjoyed witnessing Wickham's execution; it terrified her, and it chilled her bones every time she thought about it. But Daisy was right: Vera Wickham's crimes had went unpunished for too long. It was time that she paid her contribution. Theodore Wickham emerged from the shadows, his face hardened and darkened from the atmosphere around him. Petra began to cower violently, her cries echoing through the black as she stared up at her executioner. Please let it be painless. Her spine trembled with fear. Was this how Vera Wickham felt, glaring dauntlessly at her antagonist? Please let it be quick. |
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| Theodore Wickham | Mar 4 2015, 11:55:04 PM Post #127 | ||
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Do it, Theodore. Do it. Do it for me. She did nothing while I pleaded with Daisy. Nothing. She doesn't deserve your mercy. Theodore glowered unsympathetically at Petra Nefertari's trembling body, his hands pulled into fists as he struggled between sanity and pure lunacy. They were housemates. They had been in the Vox together. He left, she didn't, and by the red bandanna around her neck, Theodore could see that she was fully committed to Fitzroy's beliefs. Red. Ted-dy! She killed me. She might as well have killed me. Thomas White continued to wince in agony beside Petra, his face palely reflected underneath the dim light. White was a newer recruit, but Theodore knew that the boy didn't fit in anywhere else and found a home underneath the crimson banners. What had Daisy promised him? Family? Protection? Theodore allowed the boy to suffer. He stole a few seconds to contemplate his next chain of actions. Dead! I'm dead, Ted. Has it ever occurred to you that these people are responsible? Did you ever care about your sister at all? With a wave of Theodore's wand, the pain dissolved from Thomas's beady eyes, but he remained helpless on the floor, exhausted from the mental beating. Nearly breathing. Theodore lowered himself to Petra's level, his knees groaning from his sudden shift in weight. Biting his tongue, Theodore grabbed Petra's scarlet handkerchief and tugged at it until the material dug into her neck. He forced her to look at him, hostility in his eyes. "P-please Theodore," she pleaded, snot dribbling down her lips. She shook her head, her shoulders bouncing with her sobs. "Thomas and I had nothing to do with it. Daisy acted on her own. She didn't leave us a choice." |
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| Maxwell Scabior | Mar 5 2015, 09:00:54 AM Post #128 | ||
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"Oh," Max hummed. He wanted to see Victor before the tournament was over, and since this was the last match, his time was dwindling. Max and Victor hadn't spoken all summer, and by the sound of it, Victor needed a close friend now more than ever. "Well, it was nice chatting with you. I've got to get this wine back to my grandmother before she throws me out the window." He held up the glass of purple liquid and nodded goodbye to Gwen and Anatoli. "I asked for rosé. This is Merlot," Klara scolded, snatching the drink from Max's grubby hands. Max rolled his eyes and sulked toward the door of the booth. "Where do you think you're going?" "Out. For air. I'm suffocating," explained Max. |
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| Klara Enden-Bedeaux | Mar 5 2015, 09:02:13 AM Post #129 | ||
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"No you're not. Sit down. The match is starting again." "I'm hungry. I want a sandwich," Max whined. "I haven't given you any money, Maxwell." "I have my own money." The statement made Klara cackle. Her reaction clearly irritated Max because he swung open the box door and left to find Victor. Klara pursed her lips and breathed deeply through her nose. Why couldn't she have a granddaughter? Angrily, she sipped her bitter Merlot. "It's no wonder his fool of a mother couldn't raise him," she commented to Camille and Isabella. "He's a lose cannon. I'll have a word with him when he gets back. I wish he could be as respectful as yours, Isabella." Klara offered Ezra a motherly smile. |
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| Ehsan Mamadzai | Mar 5 2015, 10:29:12 AM Post #130 | ||
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Ehsan was supposed to move on Daisy's cue, but he hadn't budged from his spot in the stands. He froze. His hands were balled into anxious fists. Sweat collected on the back of his neck, gluing his greasy black hair to his skin. All around him, fans from Sweden and Japan murmured their excitement about the game. Still, apprehension vibrated through the arena. Ehsan's stomach hurt. He should have charged with Daisy and Alexander and the rest of them. He should have been proud of his cause. But he was a coward. Ehsan felt something slip out of his back pocket. He whipped around with wide, fearful eyes. |
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----you may be acquainted with the night, but i have seen the darkness in the day----
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| Maxwell Scabior | Mar 5 2015, 10:29:39 AM Post #131 | ||
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Maxwell Scabior stood holding a red bandana triumphantly over his head "Thought you could get away with this?" Max sneered. "Aurors! A Vox! He's a Vox!" Max waved the bandana at a herd of Aurors to get their attention. People in the stands gasped. "This one here! I found this in his pocket!" "Wait..." Ehsan pleaded. He tried to reason with the approaching Aurors, but they seized him by his skinny arms. They forcefully rooted through his other pockets and found a small baggie tied with string. One of the Aurors squinted to read the label. "Explosive smoke powder... in the color red. Alright, take him." "You killed Vera Wickham," mumbled Max as the Aurors began to shove Ehsan through the crowed. "I didn't. I didn't," Ehsan shook his head. "It wasn't supposed to happen. She didn't mean for it to happen." And then Ehsan was out of earshot. And Max was back to looking for Victor. |
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| Petra Nefertari | Mar 5 2015, 10:56:10 AM Post #132 | ||
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SAND SNAKE
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Petra could not feign control as she stared into the pitch-black glow of Theodore Wickham's eyes. Here, she pleaded at Death's gate, her knees red and swollen from her groveling. Just one more chance, one more chance... Vera Wickham had been so stoic in her hour of death. How could she remain composed when eternity was on the horizon? The mere thought of dying, staying seventeen forever, haunted Petra. She still had much to see of the world. "Theodore, please," Petra felt as if she were talking to a shadow. Her words appeared to have little effect on his empathy. Maybe he had none, which would explain why the entire Wickham clan was a tight-knit family of murderous sociopaths. In that case, Vera deserved it. She deserved all of it, and Petra would gladly watch Daisy Fitzroy murder her over and over and over. "We had nothing to do with it." Daringly, Petra's gaze faltered to Thomas White's lifeless body beside her. Was he... dead? Her eyes widened in horror, her stomach knotting itself and the hope fleeting as she turned and stared God in his merciless eyes. Petra finally quieted. She attempted to breathe, realizing that all this time she had been weeping too hard to try. Softly, Petra parted her lips, bubbles of spit building upon themselves. "I'm sorry, Theodore. I'm sorry." |
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| Alice Rowle | Mar 5 2015, 11:13:39 AM Post #133 | ||
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she is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness
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"We can't let you in without proper identification," drawled the monotonous voice of Auror Fifteen. "No wand, no entry." Alice glanced desperately at Sally, but Sally had already tearfully confessed that she had forgotten her wand in Poppy's suite. How could she be so careless? Alice grew restless with each moment she was kept outside, a fatal glare in her eyes as she attempted to work her way around the obstacle. No wand, no entry. Alice had a wand, but the problem was... "Here!" She snapped dangerously, withdrawing her wand from the hem of her dress. She thrust it forward into the idle hands of the auror. "How dare you question my identity. Do you know who my mother is? She ought to have you detained for working with the Vox." Sally stared, wide-eyed and extremely confused about the sudden change of Alice Rowle's voice. Was that...? Could it be...? The auror quickly inspected the hand by running his fingers down the length of the shaft. He bent it slightly, then held it outward to return it to her. "I apologize, Miss Wickham. Extra precautions are needed. Go right ahead." Alice turned to Sally and spoke in a low voice so that they could not be overheard: "I've done my part, Sally. And now you're home. Don't leave the stadium without anyone but your parents, understand?" The edge had vanished from Alice's tone, and now she sounded more like herself. Kinder. Warmer. "What number did you leave off on?" "Ninety-two." Sally sniffled. Alice smiled. "He doesn't break his promises, does he?" She released Sally's hand and patted her gently on the shoulder. "Go on. I'll see you when the school year starts." Alice watched helplessly, like a parent watching a child board the Hogwarts Express, as Sally walked into the Draper Suite, pigtails bouncing and all. The moment of warmth was quickly over when Alice remembered she had a different task in mind. Biting on her tongue, she turned on her heel and walked briskly down the corridors. |
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| Donatella Vercetti | Mar 5 2015, 11:21:34 AM Post #134 | ||
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The Countess
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Donatella couldn't believe her ringing ears. How could this be allowed to happen again? How could this happen? Why is this happening? She stared, open-mouthed at the pitch below, her eyes watery with tears as she struggled to grasp the reality of the situation. They were in danger. Everyone. And Donatella could do nothing but watch as the horrors unleashed themselves out into the open. When would it ever stop? "And leeeeeet's playyyyy balllll!" Eddie chimed, finally merged back into his colorful and fruity persona. Donatella remained silent, the grip on her microphone tight and frigid. "The game begins again with Svensson on a warpath to Japan's goalpost! Loooook at her go! The Beaters are organizing themselves into formations - ah! Sweden's chaser is making a dart. Can the Snitch be spotted this soon into the match?" Donatella turned her head away, voiceless as the events of the match continued to unfold. She refused to commentate on a game that was not meant to happen. Why wasn't anyone doing anything? Anger began to subside in her sadness, and she realized that despite her title, her voice would have little effect on the outcome on the match. She was powerless. |
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| Booker DeWitt | Mar 5 2015, 11:32:07 AM Post #135 | ||
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THE FALSE PROPHET
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On instant, Timothy DeWitt and Max Rowle drew their wands at the random stranger that had barged into their suite. The air immediately thickened with tension; at once, both Timothy and Max were prepared to kill for their Minister for Magic, their Don, Killing Curses dancing on the tips of their tongues. Both men stepped before the Minister, building a barrier of flesh between their leader and an intruder. Booker took one look at the kid and scoffed. He appeared young: Sixteen, seventeen? Just about the age Booker was when he got involved in the little street gangs down in Yonkers. They would call themselves the "Corner Boys" and would make a profit out of fooling muggles with their magic tricks. Where was his respect? Didn't he know who he was addressing? "What is this kid talking about?" Booker frowned, pacing across the floor, the perfect pretender. "This day's been a disaster. People wasting my fucking time and letting me down. Sorry fella, you've barged in on the wrong Minister for Magic. Remember that next time you go around throwing accusations. I can have you tried for conspiracy and treason." Booker snorted, adjusted his sleeves, and glanced at the door. "Call the aurors. Tell them that there's a Vox rat in my suite." |
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| Alexander DeWitt | Mar 5 2015, 11:40:35 AM Post #136 | ||
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J A E G E R
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Alexander knew that as sure as night followed day, that he would not be able to wiggle himself free from this predicament. The Ministry would want him for questioning. Alexander could picture the cold, windowless cell they would throw him in, charmed so that he could not Disapparate away. They were waiting for him. The only option he had now was to throw away the match, so that his father would forgive him and pardon him from the Ministry. But the gore and glory? It was worth it. "Borg's found the Snitch!" Svenson's voice sounded over the howl of the winds. "Borg's going for it! Suzuki doesn't know yet!" Alexander wound up his arm to prepare to defend himself when the Bludgers came. He and Svenson flew side-by-side, their chest-plates pressed to the necks of their brooms as they bullet-ed through the sky. The finality of it all - the match, Vera's death, the Vox - finally settled in and weighed on Alexander's shoulders. Within the next few minutes, Alexander would be leaving the stadium as a champion or a prisoner. |
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| Theodore Wickham | Mar 5 2015, 11:53:10 AM Post #137 | ||
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"You're only sorry that you got caught." Theodore aggressively shoved Petra onto the floor, his hands trembling with a fury that had been idle for too long. He began to breathe raggedly, his vision blurring as the darkness began to encompass any rational thought. Slowly, the fog curled around his fingers, eating away at his flesh, consuming him down to his rotten core. She did it, Theodore! She did it. Don't spare her. Two birds with one stone. Do it. The cheers of approval rumbled above, and Theodore knew that the match had been allowed to continue. He blinked, nearly distracted by the thought of Alex DeWitt flying crimson colors for the entire world to see. Theodore returned his attention to Petra, a sobbing, hysterical mess on the cold, stadium floor. Without thinking, he aimed his wand at the center of forehead, right where Vera had been struck with the Killing Curse. His movements seemed strange, oddly robotic, almost as if someone had possessed him and gathered control of his body. "Who else is here with you?" He growled. "Give me a name and I well let the both of you go." |
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| Isabella Nott | Mar 5 2015, 11:55:05 AM Post #138 | ||
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sisters in blood
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Isabella watched as Camille took a cigarette out of the little black box she had, Camille lit it up and took a long drag. It seemed as though her and Klara had a high taste when it came to their brands. Isabella had never smoked, she found that she didn’t need to. Her eyes flickered to Maxwell who wanted to leave the booth, and then did so by almost storming out. Isabella let the corners of her lips twitch into a slight smile. When she was addressed Isabella returned the smile. “My boys excel in different fields, it’s a shame that they can’t work together. They’d be unstoppable.” Isabella turned to look at her sons who were laughing with the Montague boy. She noticed Imogen was staring out at the pitch, the frown on her lips was all too familiar. It reminded her of her brother. Isabella felt a pang in her heart, she turned back around refusing to look at the smile again. It was too painful. “And Imogen had grown to be rather respectable in her own right. Thankfully.” Isabella sipped her wine. |
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| Victor Malfoy | Mar 5 2015, 12:00:14 PM Post #139 | ||
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how many secrets can you keep?
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“If you’ll excuse me.” Victor murmured to his own booth as he turned around to quickly leave. He didn’t care about the ridiculous match, he didn’t give two shits about the logistics of what was happening and how they had allowed this to happen. Of course it was going to be a fuck up, it always was. Victor walked out of his tent and felt his arms pulsing, just down the stairs he could see a boy being dragged away. He had red stains on his fingertips, Victor glared. They were worthless. They jumped on the nearest bandwagon and then proclaimed it wasn’t what they thought. If that were true, they shouldn’t have just jumped on and ran along with the crowds. These people were sheep, and their grey useless brains would mean nothing to anyone. Victor turned and stormed along the corridor, his fingers itching for something to punch. The frustration was too much to bare. Somehow though, through the crying children and worried parents Victor spotted a familiar face. “Max?” He called out with surprise. He hadn’t expected to see his best friend at the game, he hadn’t even seen him for the whole of summer. But there he was, walking around and darting his eyes as though he was looking for someone. |
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| Maxwell Scabior | Mar 5 2015, 12:15:35 PM Post #140 | ||
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Max would recognize that voice anywhere. "Victor?" he replied under his breath. He spun around until he finally spotted him. Gwen was right; Victor Malfoy looked absolutely awful, like he hadn't slept in days. He probably hadn't. "Ah, Victor!" Max grinned. He maneuvered around a couple of frantic looking spectators to reach his old pal. "I, uh... didn't expect to see you here. Got lucky, I guess. What a mess." "You look... tired." |
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1:53 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. |


















































1:53 PM Jul 11