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Slytherin: 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 (2,470 Views) | |||
| Jesse Lee | Mar 5 2015, 12:16:53 PM Post #141 | ||
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On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man in a dusty black coat with a red right hand
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Jesse cocked an eyebrow. He'd worked with law enforcement before. "Funny story is Mr. minister your aurors seem to think I'm one of them." Jesse hadn't given over the patch. Jesse tilted his head. He and Booker were one in the same. Except Mr . DeWitt was a prime minister and Jesse was a petty criminal. "Treason? Mr. DeWitt, I'm English, and not Swedish. Unless you want to get the international community, between muggles and wizards involved in this... in which case I am sure they will be thrilled to find out that you don't in fact have Fitzroy, and that every game until this point was fixed." Jesse tapped quietly on the table. He knew what he was doing. Walking a fine line between actually going to jail, and having a paid auror arrest him. "I wouldn't be so fast calling the Vox rats, when it's very evident that your own son is one." How was Booker expected to run a country when he couldn't control his family. "You see Mr. DeWitt, your men here can kill me or lock me up, but if your game doesn't end with Japan having an upset, and winning. It would be my own flesh and blood doing the same job." When you take the fear out of death, that negotiation method didn't hold as much weight. Mr.Prime Minister. Had no idea that his gang were being counted on to destroy other gangs in the muggle world. That they were being paid to take over, because the gangs before had grown problematic. Jesse had been in and out of muggle jail, in fact it was his job to hire kids who hadn't, so that the local cops could meet the quota on picking up gang members. "Now if you have me arrested, and I go kicking and screaming about the injustices of pure blood antics yadayadayada. You still have how the to fix the match. If there's anything I've learned from my time here. Mr.DeWitt you bet, and you bet a lot. My guess is this game is a double, or nothing bet for you. Big enough to matter if you lost it. Big enough you are willing to let me sit across the room, and look at me through your men." Jesse hoped up on the table. He could apparate if it wasn't his men who walked through the doors of the suit. They'd each been given letters to be the guards outside DeWitt ' s tent and office at this time. The orders were to let no one in, except of course Jesse. Thinking about it now, Jesse realized he must have paid one of the guards who let him in, in the first place. "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you Mr.Prime Minister. I'm a free agent acting of my own free will, that can't be traced back to you." The same speech he'd given the muggles. Or Nearly The same. There were a few adjustments that were needed to be made. |
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| Victor Malfoy | Mar 5 2015, 12:25:15 PM Post #142 | ||
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how many secrets can you keep?
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Victor found himself actually grinning when Maxwell noticed him from across the room. Victor pushed his way over there, but of course the smile didn’t last too long. It never did recently. But it seemed as though today had brought a lot of unexpected surprises. “I could say the same for you dude.” Victor said as he finally got over to Max. They both stood at the edge of the corridors, there were wild cheers surrounding them. Victor felt ill just thinking about the whole thing. “I am. I need to get out of here. You wanna come with?” Victor wanted to get out of the stadium as quickly as he could, his head was hurting and everything was making hi extremely angry. He could hardly contain himself in that retrospect. Part of him wondered how Theodore was doing, but that thought only lasted for a brief moment. |
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| Maxwell Scabior | Mar 5 2015, 01:07:29 PM Post #143 | ||
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Max nodded slowly, trying to contain his excitement. "Sure. Sure I'll go with you." He gestured for Victor to follow him. Max wasn't afraid to push people, so they'd get through the crowd much quicker if he led the way. After ages of pushing and shoving, the two of them broke free from the stadium. | ||
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| Stephanie McKenna | Mar 5 2015, 08:48:29 PM Post #144 | ||
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Minister for Magic
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"The snitch! The snitch! The Swedish seeker is after the sni—" Eddie's voice rang throughout the entire stadium, but he cut himself off abruptly. "Wait! A large group has appeared on the pitch. It's Minister McKenna, and it looks like she's waving to the referee!" he announced with sudden excitement. "Stop the match!" Indeed, Stephanie McKenna and a group of high-ranking ministry officials were now making their way to the side of the field to join those who had already gone out to talk to the referee. Stephanie's heels dug into the turf as she marched at the front of the pack with her bodyguards in close pursuit, but even they struggled to keep up. Stephanie had originally elected not to attend the final game for safety reasons, but reports of what had gone on so far had pushed her too far. Thus, she had entered the British ministry's box and ordered the officials to follow her onto the pitch. Meanwhile, the match came to a grinding halt once again as the referee's whistle signaled a stop in play. Paterson flew down to ground-level and dismounted from his broom. "M... Minister?" he stammered, obviously shocked at the second stoppage in play. "This has gone too far!" Stephanie raised her voice, though it wouldn't have carried much further than a few feet as the stadium began to buzz with chatter. "Do you hear me? Too far!" she spat. "I want both teams grounded until further notice. Am I making myself clear? I've had enough of this nonsense, and I'm not about to let some foreign minister call the shots when the safety of the crowd is at stake." Indeed. Things had gone too far, and the commentators and crowd were left to speculate as to what was going on. Donatella finally found her voice. "It looks like the players are headed for their benches, Eddie. What do you think's going on?" she asked. "It's hard to say," Eddie responded, "but the minister does not look happy!" "I want every able-bodied person from all offices to sweep the stadium until every inch is clear. I refuse to allow further mockery to be made of the ministry, and so help me, if another person is murdered under our noses I'll have the badge of every auror that's been on duty this week." McKenna's voice was stern and unwavering. She turned to face her assistant, who suddenly looked like a deer in headlights. "Get me Baker, or someone. ANYONE from the Auror Office," Stephanie demanded. Marigold's skin turned ghostly white and her hands shook as she quickly nodded and set off to find whoever she could. Stephanie ground her teeth together, and the chatter around the stadium got louder with each passing moment. "Who can tell me just what is going on here?" she pressed, looking around at the officials that had followed her out of the ministry box. |
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| Atticus Malfoy | Mar 5 2015, 08:59:32 PM Post #145 | ||
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intelligent, strong, cunning
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Atticus had been watching his cousin scream at the players and aurors around her when Eddie made an announcement that caused Atticus' ears to prick up. Minister McKenna had stormed onto the pitch. Atticus sighed a breath of relief. DeWitt’s announcement had taken them all by surprise, and the fact the game could just continue was a shock. Atticus had been consulting the rulebook when the match had resumed. Now though, it was going in another direction. Closing the book in his hands, Atticus quickly walked over to the minister, leaving his cousin seething behind him. As he walked closer he could hear the anger in her voice. She was pissed. Her demands were, of course, met quickly without any objection. When she asked what was going on Atticus stepped forward. “Minister, before the game began Daisy Fitzroy seized the microphone as she did during the America versus England match.” Atticus cleared his throat. “Somehow, even after one of the players draped a flag over the crowds, the match continued. Aurors have been going around and apprehending anyone who was with the so-called Vox. They let off red smoke bombs in the crowd, from what I could tell.” Atticus had seen someone red-stained hands being dragged from the sidelines. |
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| Merida Gottlieb | Mar 5 2015, 09:49:27 PM Post #146 | ||
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"Minister." Merida announced her presence with as much respect for McKenna as could possibly be mustered under the circumstances. The day had been long, and Merida had been forced to back out of a promise to Iso, and to Antoine, so that she could come here and help sort matters out. Not that it had seemed to make any difference. Whatever they had done to increase security had, obviously, been for nothing. Merida resented her job, today, more than she could ever recall resenting anything. All of that overtime over the week, leaving Iso today... What was it for? Now she had been dragged onto the pitch by one of the Minister's body guards to be chastised for something she had no control over - which was exactly the problem. It wasn't Merida's problem, she could hardly be classified as an auror. Everyone else had been too preoccupied, or perhaps, the Minister's spastic assistant had been too unwilling to look for someone else to present to the big boss. |
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| Petra Nefertari | Mar 6 2015, 11:13:45 AM Post #147 | ||
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SAND SNAKE
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On the cold ground, staring at the end of Theodore Wickham's wand, Petra realized she had never felt more afraid for her life. Hellwarts had instilled a fear of the darkness in her. The Sisterhood had merely exaggerated her distaste for purebloods. But in the moments ticking away, in Theodore's eyes, she saw and realized that death was on the horizon, and it lugged onward, a train barreling home. Petra's mind failed to string a coherent thought. She was so scared, she couldn't even cry, as her body had frozen stiff, the ghost of a corpse. Her panicked breaths echoed into the black. Above them, the cheers had fallen silent again, signifying yet another distraction in the match. But Theodore failed to notice. Petra prayed that he would, which would grant her a second, she only needed a second, to steal his wand and to defend herself and Thomas. He demanded a name. Why not ask where Daisy Fitzroy was? He knew it was hopeless to locate the martyr's whereabouts. Petra would never give it up. She was too loyal to betray Fitzroy. "W-We're the only ones left," Petra grumbled, her nails clawing into the cement. Protect the family. Then, she felt a pointed pressure on the center of her forehead. Petra began to tremble violently as Theodore's wand pressed into her skin, almost like a dagger in flesh. Thomas, wake up. Wake up, Thomas. Please wake up. She slowed her breathing, a nauseous feeling creeping up her throat as she struggled to remain upright. She prayed, she prayed and prayed that someone would find them down there, in the underbelly of the stadium. "Avada..." "No, no, no! Please! I-I'll give you a name. You want a name? I'll give you one." Petra pressed her eyes closed and hoped with every fiber of her being that her comrade was already safely out of the stadium. She choked on her spit, the weight of the world upon her shoulders. "L-Louis," she said calmly, her hands pulled into fists. "Louis Moreau." |
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| Stephanie McKenna | Mar 6 2015, 11:22:07 AM Post #148 | ||
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Minister for Magic
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Stephanie continued to grind her teeth together behind closed lips as Atticus stepped up to explain the situation, having already been on the field himself. "At least someone around here is on top of things." Stephanie was impressed with the man's initiative, but now was not the time for praise. "One of the players did what? What flag?" she asked, her voice steely and impatient. She turned to look at the players, who were now sitting at their benches at opposite sides of the pitch. "A Vox flag, Minister," a voice from the crowd of ministry officials answered. Stephanie's eyes narrowed with fury. "And who would be so foolish?" "The Swedish minister's son." Stephanie could have cancelled the game then and there. The Quidditch World Cup was dramatic enough without the addition of terrorist groups and insubordinate quidditch icons. After so many years in office, Stephanie could hardly remember an incident of anger equal to how she currently felt. The world needed a chance to breathe, but the wheels of politics and the plans of evil organizations never seemed to stop. "I need to regain control and re-establish faith in the ministry," Stephanie thought to herself. Internationally-wanted criminals had become the face of the tournament, and that would simply not do. "Auror Gottlieb," the minister greeted the young recruit, who was the first to come back with Marigold. "I want you organize an arrest party to take young Mr. DeWitt into custody immediately. You will not leave stadium without him." Stephanie wasn't about to stand by and allow open defiance in front of the international wizarding community. She turned to her escorts. "Hastings, Isherwood. Would you be so kind as to request the Swedish minister's presence on the field? I want you to escort him personally." "But Ma'am—" "Now," Stephanie commanded. There would be no questioning her orders. Not now. She turned back to the rest of the officials that had formed on the field. "Everyone else, begin the sweep. Communicate with the aurors and follow their directions. This game does not continue until the entire stadium is clear." |
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| Louis Moreau | Mar 6 2015, 11:32:10 AM Post #149 | ||
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Lord, tell my baby sister not to do what I have done. Panicked, Louis Moreau rushed down the corridor, his hair ruffled and his hands stained crimson from the smoke bombs he had unleashed into the crowd. His heart beat like a war drum, a declaration of independence from his controlled thought. Louis's fingers trembled with anticipation and fear, but most of all, he felt pride and security in his alliance. He glanced up and noticed a squadron of aurors sweeping the area. Louis's first instinct was to Disapparate, but that alone would draw more attention. Instead, Louis made a sharp right and bolted into the men's restroom, his breathing garnering in speed as he rushed to the sink. Shit. Shit. Shit. Desperately, Louis flipped on the faucet and attempted to rub the stains from his skin. He glanced up into the mirror. Would his mother be proud of who he was today? Never. She would disown him, if he hadn't already over his brief affair with Anita Salander. And now, he was a member of a rebel group? She might as well have a heart attack on the spot. His father, an auror, would likely take his own son in for questioning. But within the Vox, Louis found solidarity. They didn't look down upon his actions like his parents did. |
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| Isabella Nott | Mar 6 2015, 12:02:38 PM Post #150 | ||
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sisters in blood
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Isabella had been sipping her wine and thinking about her own family troubles when the commentator declared that Minister McKenna had come onto the pitch. Isabella had set down her wine and stood up from her seat, stepping over to the window and looking out. She had been taught by the woman at Hogwarts, she was her potions professor. Isabella could even recall meeting with the woman a few times after her business had taken off, Isabella was a success student. Oh, what the Minister didn’t know wouldn’t hurt. “Players are going to the benches, I think this is all over.” Isabella said with a small smirk. She glanced over to those in the booth, most of them were looking out to the pitch. After a few choice words it seemed that the aurors and ministry workers were leaving the pitch off to search for any suspicious figures. They would be easily found out, after all they were only kids. Stupid kids. Reckless without an idea about what the world was really like. “It’s a shame there is yet another disaster to distract her attention.” Isabella spoke freely. “You’d think she couldn’t do her job.” |
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| Aloisia Malfoy | Mar 6 2015, 12:34:27 PM Post #151 | ||
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everybody's got a little hole in the middle
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Aloisia smiled at Atticus as much as she could manage a smile. Her hands, balled into fists, now felt raw from the indents her fingernails left against her skin. Aloisia didn't seem to notice; she was too busy transfixed on McKenna, a figure of power and structure. If only Stephanie McKenna knew who Aloisia was beneath her careful mask, pink lipstick and powdered cheekbones. If only she knew... Aloisia shoved the thought from her mind and crossed her arms against her chest. “Way to go,” she whispered to Atticus. She nodded as Aurors began to disperse around the pair. “Should we go ahead and search for Cersia and Victor? Ten Galleons says Cersia's hiding in a corner somewhere, screaming.” Squinting against the glare of the sun, Aloisia looked upwards, towards the VIP suites. Booker DeWitt was in one now, biding his time. Surely Lucius was there, too. “I say, we make a far more efficient team than Lucius and I,” added Aloisia. “But Lucius and I are far more attractive.” Edited by Aloisia Malfoy, Mar 6 2015, 12:35:03 PM.
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| Melissa Levander | Mar 6 2015, 12:37:40 PM Post #152 | ||
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It had been a whirl wind of madness, it was something Melissa could hardly keep up with. The way they were speaking, the quick jabs and bouncing of decisions was becoming far more interesting than the match itself. Sweden had a very good chance of winning, but with that little stunt it seemed that Alexander had gotten himself into a lot of trouble. People were booing around them, while others were quickly leaving. Melissa stayed in place, her fingers digging into the railing as she wondered where her brothers were in the crowd. It didn’t take them long to pop up though, she turned as she heard men yelling watch it one by one. Elias and Hugo darted towards her. “Mel!” Melissa scowled, she still hated that damn nickname. She looked between the two of them. Their faces were flushed. “Mom says we have to go soon.” Hugo continued as he gasped for air. Elias nodded along with him. “Why? It’s just getting interesting.” Melissa commented with a slight narrowing of her eyes. She glanced back to the pitch, a crowd of men and women were quickly leaving the pitch. Soon they would be upon on the crowd looking for trouble makers. That was when it hit her. She turned around and looked at her younger brothers. “Is it because of the search?” Melissa quickly asked. Hugo shrugged. Elias glanced to his brother and then shrugged along with him. They were useless. Melissa nodded her head and followed the two out of the stadium, nodding her head quickly at Belle as a goodbye. They got to the back of the stadium and began to climb the steps. People were rushing down them, the stickers and rubbish on the stairs was dropping through the gaps and onto other people’s heads. She scowled as they continued up. But as they got to their own floor Melissa found herself stopping outside of a booth. Inside was the strange woman, someone who Melissa didn’t trust at all. Why would her parents do business with her? Isabella Nott turned her head and the two of them locked eyes. Isabella smiled, Melissa scowled. “Come on!” Elias shouted grabbing his sister’s arm and yanking her away from the window. Melissa went to protest, but there was no point. There was nothing Melissa could do or help ease her mind. So she allowed herself to be dragged away, back to the booth where her parents were situated. |
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| Atticus Malfoy | Mar 6 2015, 12:44:13 PM Post #153 | ||
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intelligent, strong, cunning
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Atticus nodded to the Minister as he stepped back. They all needed to start sweeping the stadium, even if neither of them were Aurors. He glanced over to Aloisia who was speaking about whether they should go and find their family members. He shrugged his shoulders and then nodded his head. “Malfoy booth first, they might be there.” Atticus commented turning around and walking along the pitch to the exit. Aloisia walked by his side. Atticus found himself laughing at Aloisia. He didn’t even know what Lucius did in the ministry, he was probably just a lacky for Aloisia. That was what it seemed like anyway. “If you say so.” He muttered walking off the pitch and making his way up the nearby stairs. His eyes darted over the hands of those around him. Any stains of red would be an immediate arrest. But it was a hard thing to spot, and Atticus found himself watching his fellow ministry officials grabbing students and young adults and turning over their hands with some force. They quickly reached the Malfoy booth and Atticus looked around. “Victor isn’t here.” He spoke loudly, glancing to where Aloisa was. They wouldn’t be able to stay here long. They had a job to do. |
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| Emma Gray | Mar 6 2015, 12:49:05 PM Post #154 | ||
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I SEE A BAD MOON RISING
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Emma glanced meaningfully at Addie as McKenna's presence ignited the crowds like striking a match. Everyone was buzzing with excitement – or perhaps fear – and Emma, surprisingly, did not find herself any different. The vines that had been carefully winding up her arms shuddered and began to slide back into a small slit of skin just beneath her wrists. For many, the sight was unnerving. For her closest friends and family, it was simply another day; Emma was not concentrated on that, however. Her eyes were locked downwards, fixated at the Quidditch Pitch, where small dots were collecting. One of them was their Minister of Magic – former professor, too. Emma remembered her well. She just wondered why she didn't feel calm in her presence anymore. Time? Too much sadness had pushed the idea of McKenna and safety away from each other. Emma's only chance of safety was within herself and, even then, that was debatable. Emma stood beside her daughter, watching carefully. She was only half aware of everyone else in the room paying attention – Titine and Orion at the bar, Lucius and Addie standing just behind them, the others crowded by the door. Emma could hear Poppy sniffling. “She'll handle this,” Emma murmured quietly. |
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Ariella - Sirius - Emma - Tinsley - And More
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| Carmen Gray-Winters | Mar 6 2015, 12:49:50 PM Post #155 | ||
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and I will take what is mine
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Carmen's face grew pale. The tired shadows streaming across her face revealed the exhaustion she was carrying in the droop of her shoulders and smile. She turned, hair reflecting silver from the sun, and stared at her mother for a moment. Her mother did not return her gaze; she was fixated on the ground, eyes squinting to see more clearly. Carmen bit her bottom lip, hesitant. Anxiety was throbbing in her wrists like a trembling pulse. Her mind trudged back in time, rewinding her memories. She saw Alexander, standing over her with a pleased grin spreading across once-stoic features. She saw herself, dancing alongside him at the bar before he disappeared into the shadows, a mystery hanging on the tip of his tongue. She remembered Alexander in the ocean, family vacations spent sunbathing as Alex broke free of the ocean's tide, spitting up salt water. They all laughed. She saw it in his eyes, piercing and luminous – the same ones so broken now. “They are going to arrest Alex,” said Carmen. Her voice broke. Her heart felt too heavy for her chest to carry anymore. Emma reached out, placed a reassuring hand on her daughter's shoulder, and squeezed. They were silent for a moment as Carmen lowered her head, chin pressed against her chest. When her mother finally spoke, her voice was firmer than the steel of train tracks, and just as unwavering. “Maybe he deserves it,” muttered Emma, just before glancing back to the pitch. “But what about Alice?” Carmen said sharply, growing more panicked with each inhale. “What about Dolly? What about Sally, and Lucy, and Lily, and Don – ” Emma's tight grip on Carmen's shoulder tightened dangerously. She spun Carmen around to face her – her face leaned in close, their noses pressed together, and Carmen winced against her mother's hot breath – “You listen to me, Carmen. Those people? They're not your family. They never were your family. Do you understand what I am saying to you? Booker, Don, Dolly, Lily.... and Theodore are not friends of ours. They never will be again.” When Emma released her daughter, she stepped back, moving towards the bar. “Pour me something strong, Orion. And don't look at me like that, Titine. It's gonna be a long day, don't you think? Might as well make it more interesting.” Carmen turned back to the pitch, eyes searching for Alex. She cried. |
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| Emily Pemberly | Mar 6 2015, 01:08:06 PM Post #156 | ||
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put on your doll faces
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It couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be happening. Emily pulled the flower from her hair and looked at it as the words of Daisy Fitzroy rung in her ear. Even though the sudden cheers and sullen boos, she could still feel what Daisy was saying. She wanted to know what it meant, what the desperate older girl wanted with this act of rebellion. They said they were peaceful and loving, unless they didn’t like what you were doing. The posters Emily had seen made her wonder whether they wanted to crush the olden beliefs of the wizarding world and do so with a punch and a stab. It didn’t feel productive to Emily, and she didn’t see the point in many ways. Her mind drifted to her mother, the words from the tape were hurtful and Emily had refused to believe them. Now though, standing in the middle of a crowd with so much confusion Emily felt those words. Was she really unwanted? How could her mother not want any of them? Emily began to think about her sister, her half-sister who hated her guts with a burning passion. Her brother had turned as well, and her half-brother was still a mystery. Emily could see families huddling together and dashing along the steps. Her own had been close, but the bonds were woven with lies. Emily had only just realised this, and the reality of it all made her feel sick. Emily covered her mouth and spun darting through the crowd and pushing her way over to the nearest door. The bathroom. She slammed the door open and rushed inside running to the sinks and turning the cold tap on at full blast. Her throat closed up and her stomach swelled as she cupped the water in her palms and splashed it on her face. Tears mixed with the fresh water as Emily felt a sob rise. She hiccupped, the throwing of the water began quicker and more desperate before she threw some behind her. A gargled sob slipped through her lips and she pushed her hands onto the side of the sink. Emily closed her eyes and lowered her head, slowly lifting her hand and turning the tap off. She lifted her head and stared at her in the mirror. Flushed face, red eyes, tear track lines running down the side of her face, and mangled hair. It was the face of a horrified realisation, and Emily could hardly believe it was her own. |
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| Booker DeWitt | Mar 6 2015, 01:16:15 PM Post #157 | ||
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THE FALSE PROPHET
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It slightly terrified Booker that this stranger knew an abundance of information about Booker's underground system. How had he acquired it? Was there a rat in Booker's organization? Did Booker have to rethink his associates? Not only did it frighten him, it also infuriated him. Booker wasn't going to bow down to some kid just because he knew a few things. Booker was the Minister for Magic, the Padre, he didn't bend at the knee for anyone. Booker stood tall, iron built into his spine as he glowered at the child across from him. Max and Timothy remained as barriers, their wands trained carefully on the intruder. "I'm insulted that you would even consider using such slander against me," said Booker, motioning to himself. Italians, full-blooded or not, always spoke with their hands. "Would you ever speak to Minister McKenna that way? Son, if you think speaking to ministers like this will get you far in life, it won't." Although it was slightly tempting to trust his future in the hands of a stranger, Booker knew that betrayal was a serpent waiting to be tread on. Booker's trust remained in his confidants: People who shared his blood, or at the very least, a deep history. He didn't invest his faith on people who claimed they would help him - the last time he did it, someone lost their life. Booker was a risk-taker, a gambler, but his gut told him not to take the leap of faith. And Booker was a stubborn man. It would take the universe to convince him to change his mind. "Speaking of..." Timothy said, turning his head to peer out of the box window. Down, far below on the quidditch pitch, the Minister of the British Ministry stormed onto the scene, fury and fight and all. It took every ounce of strength for Booker not to roll his eyes. "This is a shit show." Absolutely. Booker agreed silently, bringing his palms to his face. He closed his eyes and breathed. Inhale, exhale. Where had things gone wrong? Booker attempted to collect himself. From the looks of it, McKenna had fired warning shots into the air, meaning Booker would need to tear himself from his haven to play the diplomat. One leader of a nation meets the other. Normally, this would be preceded by an elaborate ceremony, followed by a heavy celebration, but desperate times called for desperate measures. McKenna's aurors were at the door within seconds. Booker's hands fell to his sides. He smiled warmly, the picture perfect Minister. Now, if only he had his wife at his side, things would look better. "I believe you're here to escort me down to the field?" He asked innocently, raising his eyebrows. His eyes flickered to Max and Timothy. "I apologize for the guard dogs. There was an intruder; I don't know how he got passed my aurors." The attention of the room was directed at the auror left standing dumbly on the table. "Arrest him. He's in the Vox." With a parting smile, Booker and his associates pushed passed the aurors in the room, walking firmly with stoic determination on their faces. Booker was, at once, surrounded by a large group of aurors, and carefully they guided the Minister for Magic out of the box and down the winding corridors of the stadium. As Booker neared the field, he felt his heart leap into his chest, tremors of anxiety threatening to still his vital organ. Booker DeWitt paraded onto the field, blinded by the lights and the glare of the stadium's crowds. He felt the pressing gazes of thousands of witches and wizards, some of them who belonged to his home, and felt a panic sweep over him. Flash the killer smile. He glanced at the benched players, and unfortunately, the sight of his son boiled his blood. Two worlds, one power. Booker slowed to a stop just a few yards before Minister McKenna. Smiling, he extended his hand, forked tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth. "Pleasure to see you in such an informal setting, McKenna. I apologize. This entire event has been a misunderstanding." |
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| Alice Rowle | Mar 6 2015, 01:38:38 PM Post #158 | ||
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she is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness
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"L-Louis... Louis Moreau." The name echoed in Alice's head and reverberated into the silence of her skull. She stalked forward, her movements sharp and feline-like, a different soul burning in her heart. Louis Moreau took my life. She said, her voice like a whisper against Alice's ears. Louis Moreau murdered me. He killed me! Now I have... Nothing. His trail was like a lit path. Alice, an apex predator, prowled onward, her eyes hardened into determination as she cut through the corridors in a brisk pace. She aggressively pushed herself passed lingering crowds, her attention focused solely on her prey rather than the continuing crumble of the final World Cup match. She had stopped caring about the game when she died. Everything. Alice forced herself to move faster, evading the gazes of curious aurors as she made sharp turns at the corners. Everything from me. And he just watched. She could feel her connection to Theodore strengthening with each hurried pulse. Again, the sinking feeling of time drawing in flooded Alice with dread, and this motivated her to push onward, a fury in her heart that could not be quelled. Alice caught the tail end of Louis Moreau before he barged into the isolated bathroom. Stealthily, Alice followed, glancing around to ensure that she was alone before she entered the room with him. Have no mercy. "You missed a spot on your arm." |
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| Theodore Wickham | Mar 6 2015, 01:59:35 PM Post #159 | ||
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IMPERATOR
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As promised, Theodore lowered his wand, brought back from the brink of insanity. His eyes lowered upon Petra. He relaxed his jaw, his gaze a steady siphon of hatred. Unable to hold herself upward any longer, Petra fell backwards onto the ground and collapsed into a heap of hysterical sobs. Theodore could see that she was relieved that he had spared her life, but he knew he would have done it if she did not deliver. Almost done. Theodore stepped over her, so that both of his boots were planted on either side of her trembling waist. Petra silenced as he leaned over, his palm reaching outward for her slim neck. He grabbed the crimson scarf tied to her, and with a violent lurch, yanked it from her body. Theodore held it up near his face, his eyes blacker than coal as he met Petra's horrified gaze. "The next time you see Daisy Fitzroy," he drawled slowly, his hand scrunching the cloth into a ball. Petrified, Petra watched as the scarlet from the material faded, and soon red had turned into black and melted into Theodore's fist. Theodore's darkness had absorbed the pigmented color, just as it would feed off any light - any life. "Tell her about what's waiting for her. And tell her to keep running." Ruthless, Theodore tossed the colorless bandanna onto Petra's chest dismissively. He glanced once more at Thomas's still body. Without another word, Theodore turned and vanished into the darkness. |
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| Jesse Lee | Mar 6 2015, 02:45:38 PM Post #160 | ||
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On a gathering storm comes a tall handsome man in a dusty black coat with a red right hand
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Jesse shook his head as McKenna took control of the situation, the exact thing he had thought would happen. His expression showed his thoughts clearly. Jesse disapproved of Booker not agreeing to work with him, and the fact that the English Prime Minister stood up to DeWitt. Jesse waited until Booker was done, before nodding. "You're exposed Mr. DeWitt. You better find the rat in your business before you decide to have people thrown in jail." Jesse raised his hands as if show he had no part in the Vox. For the moment. "Mr. DeWitt, you aren't the first minister I've had the pleasure of speaking too." After all, in nearly a year 60% of the Black Lillies business was legal. The auror stared at Jesse dumbly for just a second to long, before making a grab at him. With the little pause the auror made, Jesse apparated out of the office and out of the stadium. Still not sure what the fuck had just happened.He did however, leave an address with nothing but a picture of a Black Lilly on the table where he'd once sat, in case DeWitt changed his mind. As soon as Jesse left the office, and the stadium he began pacing. There had to be a way to fix the mess he was in. There just had to be a way. "Fuck. Fuck. FUCK." Jesse threw his hat off. Before continuing to pace. He couldn't very well stay here long. The kid in DeWitt's office was hired, and would be facing repercussions of letting Jesse escape, which meant he would have to find a way to pay the kid even more, and not leave him out to hang. One could buy loyalty. Jesse sent word to the Lee's to meet in Birmingham, the muggle district. Then he sent word to all of the aurors on his payroll to fill him in on happened to Jenkins, the poor soul. Via an invisible scroll that Jesse had devised so that the aurors wouldn't get caught associating with a gang member. It dawned on Jesse then, that Daphne would be expected to be in the Vox, since she was seen with him earlier that day. He sent word to his one true friend, an auror. The same one who had given Jesse these connections; to pick up Daphne, and her friends and take her somewhere where no other aurors would mess with them. With that Jesse apparated out of the World Cup. |
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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