h e l p l e s s

oxanne montegue. 17. order. var sc_project=11171845; var sc_invisible=1; var sc_security="d23f9bbf"; var scJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://secure." : "http://www."); document.write("");

[disguiiises]

duplicitiies:

“It’s not even noon yet.” He countered, his eyes flickering up to the clock on the wall. “It can hardly be qualified as a long day. Unless you are a vampire, which seeing as I have had the misfortune of seeing you during daylight hours I know not to be true.” Don’t judge her? A small chuckle escaped him at that, his eyes rolling.

Severus stoked the fire under the cauldron with his wand, his eyes returning to the clock on the wall. Once ten seconds had passed, Severus removed four sprigs of Valerian add dropped them into the cauldron one at a time, crumbling them as he went. He ignored her comment about music as he wasn’t interested in continuing that conversation further.

Aurora had taken the hint. Finally. He turned towards her, a smirk on his face. “Truly, I would love nothing more than to be able to work without your incessant chatter.”

“It’s been a long day,” she repeated again, briefly remembering the executions that had occurred earlier in the day. It did wonders to bringing her mood back down, and Roxanne ignored the jab at her being a vampire in favor of watching him brew the potion for a moment. She’d always found potions to be entrancing, and she wished that she were back here doing this rather than up front dealing with customers.

Admittedly, she was far more likable than Severus could ever achieve in her opinion. That would be why.

“Didn’t think attempting to bond with my coworker would be an annoyance,” she huffed, looking away from the potion and letting out a small sigh. Roxanne obviously wasn’t wanted there, so to the front she was going to have to go. “But whatever. Guess I’ll call you if I need anything.” With that she turned around to head to the counter. It would be a long day indeed.

[disguiiises]

dcdalusdiggle:

“It might save you a few trips to St Mungo’s down the road, it has to be said.” He commented with a shrug. “I know from experience that they tend to get a little fed up once you’ve been the more than a few times for one thing or another.” The Healers on the spell damage ward were definitely sick of his semi-frequent visits. “It’s no problem!” Dedalus offered her an easy smile. “Oh! Diggle. Dedalus Diggle.” He didn’t sound quite as suave as the spy from the muggle films but he couldn’t help that.

“Can’t really afford more than one trip anyway,” she said dryly, shaking her head. She snorted at the next comment, and Roxanne looked up in amusement. “You know from experience? That’s not necessarily a good thing.” She shifted her book to hold against her chest, offering Dedalus a smile in return and nodding. “Dedalus Diggle. I’m Aurora Schacklebolt. Nice to meet you.”

[disguiiises]

sarciendum:

“I probably would have gone with ‘threatening’ but, alright, ditzy.” He agreed with a short laugh. Something was distinctly off here, but Sirius couldn’t decide if it were him making obvious mistakes or her. Either way, this conversation was edging steadily outside the bounds of what could be considered safe with every exchange. Drumming his fingertips against the wood in a brief staccato Sirius made the decision to follow his instincts and completely ignore all warning signs.

The parchment under his hand slid across the counter top, and he tilted his head towards it in invitation.

“It’s really more of a fuel I need, than an oil.” He admitted in a low voice, watching her closely for any sort of reaction. Theoretically there would still be time to escape if she decided to start flinging curses and calling down the Death Eaters on him. “But I don’t think it’s exactly something a Muggle shop would be able to provide.” Not many flying vehicles out there in the non-magical world, after all. Not a great many in the Wizarding either, truth be told. His bike sat firmly upon the line between the things that could be considered safe anywhere by anyone.  

She chuckled and shrugged, feeling slightly more relaxed when the stranger laughed. That alone was dangerous--she shouldn’t feel relaxed in the presence of a stranger, yet here she was, and Roxanne wanted to yell at herself for it. The guy could be dangerous, extremely so, and she was letting her guard down anyway. Maybe it was the time of night, but she had to try and reign it in. The way he mentioned Muggle shops without distaste, though... 

No, she couldn’t kid herself. She had to be safe rather than sorry.

Roxanne walked closer to look at the parchment that was slid onto the counter, glancing at him once to try and see if she could make out his face in the dim lighting before focusing on the parchment again. “A fuel?” She raised her eyebrows. “What, you got a car or something? Dunno why you wouldn’t be able to find one at those shops. Maybe. Possibly.” She took a deep breath. “What are you working on again?”

[disguiiises]

fletchxr:

“Stole?” His eyebrows hitched upward in feigned bemusement as he settled his back against the tent, rolling the stick around which his cotton candy was bundled back and forth between his fingers as his forehead scrunched as if searching for a memory he didn’t have. “I don’t know who you think I am but who would steal from a child? Perhaps you should go and report it to security instead of accusing honest bystanders just trying to enjoy the festival and all it’s .. delights.”

An expansive wave of his arm encapsulated the festival grounds, smile broadening as he pointed emphatically at her with the stick of his cotton candy, “Anyone would think you had some kind of vendetta against me and I can’t imagine why. It’s not like I ever cost you any very delicate business deals or an afternoon’s worth of earnings now, did I?.”

Twirling the stick absently between his fingers he beamed, offering it towards her with a bat of his eyes. “Cotton Candy?”

She felt her blood boiling. Everything about this man made her not want to touch him with a ten-foot pole, and Roxanne had to wonder why the hell she’d tried to be friendly back at that bookshop. She didn’t have a necessarily great taste in judgement when it came to people, which honestly wasn’t a good thing in this world, but she tried. Boy, had she done something wrong. “Shut up. Honest bystanders? I know it was you.”

It’s not like I ever cost you any very delicate business deals or an afternoon’s worth or earnings now, did I? Well shit. Roxanne took a deep breath and crossed her arms across her chest. So that’s what had happened. “Look, how the hell was I supposed to know that you had some weird business in a bookstore? Drop it, dude. Give me my watch.”

The cotton candy offer made her scowl, and Roxanne just narrowed her eyes.

[legendsinspo]

it’s a holly volly jolly holiday and it’s live like legends secret santa 2k16:

@transfigurare​ gives to @disguiiises and @duplicitiies

[disguiiises]

fletchxr:

It was like the universe was determined to saddle him with all manner of teenagers with no survival instincts lately but that didn’t meant that Mundungus had to play along. He reached for his glass and took another mouthful of whiskey in a salute as the girl finally seemed to get the message and made to leave with a pointed attempt at smacking into him on the way past. 

Teenagers were so moody. 

It was only as he caught a glimpse of his buyer at the end of the stack and watched with slowly growing rage as he was turned away less by Roxy’s insistence that he was a dick (a proven, verifiable fact) than the realisation that their presence had been noted, visions of galleons dancing behind his eyes suddenly slipping out of his reach. He stood frozen at the end of the stacks, reciting an extensive dictionary’s worth of curses before the last of his whiskey was thrown back. 

Sooner or later, that kid was going to cough up for the money she’d just cost him.

[disguiiises]

dcdalusdiggle:

“Well then, it looks as if I will have to accept responsibility for my wounded ego.” He grinned, pocketing his wand and using his then free hand to clutch at his chest. “You just need to practice with cushions or something soft. You’ll get the hang of it one day… maybe. Yes, I have to say that hands are far easier to catch with than faces are.” Dedalus shrugged. “It’s no problem. You know, if I can save one young lady from going to St Mungo’s with a broken nose because she took a book to the face then I consider my day successful.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll need more practice.” Which, in itself, was rather pathetic in her mind. She had years at school to perfect a simple summoning spell, but she always overestimated herself. It was embarrassing, and Roxanne coughed, clinging her book to her chest. “I’d say the same, yeah. And I appreciate it. I don’t fancy my nose breaking because of a book.” She looked up at him. “Thank you again, Mr...?”

[disguiiises]

fletchxr:

“Language,” he chided with a broad smile, chewing slowly on the tufts of cotton candy and licking it away from his lips, “There are wee ones around you know.”

An absent wave of his hand encapsulated the sea of tiny creatures, bounding around hyped up on sugar and the delights of the Ministry’s propaganda machine. Mundungus didn’t seem particularly bothered by the accusation (it was hardly a new one) nor did he seem inclined to address it, instead plucking another tuft of cotton candy off his bunch and regarding her lazily over it.

“Don’t I know you?” he enquired after a moment, tilting his head curiously before popping the cotton candy in his mouth and holding up a finger in a silent request for her to wait, “It’ll come to me,” he added around his mouthful, biding his time with an absently hum as he soaked up the weak sunlight filtering down through the heavy cloud. 

“The bookshop girl,” he concluded finally, wriggling his toes within his shoes and beaming sunnily up at her as if their last encounter hadn’t been endlessly trying for him. “I see you’re still finding yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Did you say you’d lost something?”

The man was infuriating, and Roxanne felt her blood boiling the longer he took to answer her at all. She looked at the children he gestured to, and she just shook her head, glaring daggers at him. “The wee ones you stole from? That’s right, I forgot how helpful that was. How caring.”

She honestly had to breath. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She could yell at this guy all she wanted for stealing her watch (and being a dick in general), but that would get her no where. From the looks of it, he was being deliberately show and obnoxious, and Roxanne wouldn’t let him have that. He had stolen from her, yes, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting on her nerves as well.

That’s what she got for trying to make conversation in a bookshop.

“Is that my name now?” Roxanne asked dryly, eyes narrowing. “Lovely. You’re still a drunk librarian in my mind. A nerd.” Maybe trying to antagonize the guy who had her watch wasn’t the best idea, but Roxanne wanted some sort of satisfaction. “Not lost. Stolen. Give me my damn watch.”

[disguiiises]

fletchxr:

“No,” he replied bluntly, nestling his tumbler of whiskey between the spines of books and raising his eyebrows pointedly as if this time maybe Roxanne might get the message, “I wouldn’t think. There are dangerous people around these parts, you should really learn to figure out when you’re talking to one.”

Charm seemed to be the last thing on his mind today.

He sniffed, digging into his pockets but rather than producing his wand he came out with a battered carton of cigarettes which he lent against his glass. He looked, for all intents and purposes, as if he thought he was still in a pub. There was a brief moment upon which he seemed entirely preoccupied with rummaging further through his pockets before he turned his head back towards Roxanne with a blunt and unimpressed, “Why are you still here?”

It was that phrase, she supposed, that finally let on to Roxanne that she should probably get away from this man. Her intrigued look twitched, and she finally took a step back from the shelf she’d been leaning against. “Alright,” she finally said. “Fine. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” She turned around and shook her head, not really caring if she pushed into the guy on her way out. He was an asshole, that much was obvious. Just as she was about to get to the door Roxanne ran into another, equally shady guy. Mood soured, she jabbed her thumb back toward Mundungus’ shelf.

“Don’t go back there. The guy’s a dick.”

With that she left, and the shady guy glanced in Mundungus’ direction before leaving the shop as well.

[legendsinspo]

live like legends au universes: percy jackson edition ( part three ).

@itsy-bitsy-wolfie, @disguiiises, @duplicitiies, @sarciendum

[disguiiises]

dcdalusdiggle:

“Now I would say that I’m hurt by that implication, but I did kinda bring it on myself, didn’t I?” Although Dedalus liked to believe that he was still young - after all thirty-five was young by wizarding standards - but still, being called ancient did not do a man’s ego any favours. “I’ve got it!” He ducked slightly, his freehand outstretched. Dedalus’ fingers curled around the spine as the book collided with his palm, his arm moving backwards from the force. “Now that wasn’t too hard, was it? You catch with your hand, not your face.” He lowered his arm, holding the book out towards her.

“You did. You’re the one who called yourself ancient first, not me.” She smirked as if that gave her the all clear from the possible insult, wincing a few moments later as she thought the book would hit him. Instead of his face it hit his hand, and Roxanne straightened her posture. “Maybe not hard, but a bit terrifying.” She stepped closer and held out her hand to take the book. “Though hands are much easier to catch with than a face. Thank you, by the way.”

[disguiiises]

duplicitiies:

Severus stared at Aurora, his expression mildly incredulous. “Give better insults?” He queried, his expression scrunching. “Is that really the best thing you could think of to say?” He scoffed. “Pot, kettle much? Telling me to improve my insults is both pathetic and unnecessary. Perhaps I shall liken you to a squib or a flobberworm in future.”

Picking up the bean, he held it over the cauldron, shaking it slightly to get all of the juice out. He placed the stirring rod back into the cauldron and began to stir. “It is drums and yelling. Just ask anyone who has actually graduated Hogwarts. The only people who like his music are hormonal teenagers.” He switched directions. “I prefer books to music, as it so happens.” He commented off-handedly. “But I don’t mind classical music.” Removing the stirring rod and wiping it with a rag he turned his back to her, pretending to look for something on the shelf in an attempt to hide the expression on his face. If only Aurora knew. “Please let there be customers soon.” He mumbled under his breath.

“Look, it’s early and been a long day. Don’t judge me.” Of course, she knew that was something that Severus Prince was incapable of doing; she was positive that all he ever did was judge people. She was certainly no exception, and she picked up a vial to twirl idly in her hands to avoid looking at  him. 

She couldn’t say much to the Hogwarts thing. After all, she hadn’t graduated Hogwarts, but this persona of hers hadn’t gone to Hogwarts at all. She had no house, no experience there, no anything. She was just here, and it made her fall silent for a few (probably blissful, to the man) moments. “Classical music isn’t horrible,” she finally said. “Soothing. Guess everyone has a different taste.” Roxanne glanced toward the door and got off the counter, setting the vial down once more. “You want me out of your hair.”

[disguiiises]

fletchxr:

At the first call of, ‘hey!’ from behind him, Mundungus found a smile cracking wide across his lips, the cheerful whistling that he’d engaged in as he continued on between the twin tents and circled around a Honeydukes stall growing louder as he began to shed his clown costume. Bells jingled as he shrugged out of the garishly coloured shirt, suspenders dropping down his back to thump absently against his knees as he folded it to stuff into the magically enhanced abyss of his trouser pockets. 

‘Asshole,’ registered with slightly more aplomb as he weaved around a cotton candy vendor, snaring a stick along the way without a second glance behind him and reached up smear at the paint slathered across his face with the back of his hands. Less Bozo, more Rambo, a dubious improvement but one none the less. The jingle jingle of his shoes was silenced by a hastily extracted wand, nose wrinkling as the bells vanished as quickly as they’d came. 

The growing sound of disgruntled kids being bowled over and the aggravation of the girl pursuing him were ignored as he eased down the gap between another pair of tents, giving Sybil Trelawney’s stall a wide berth (he had no interest in being told of his impending death today) to settle in the shade outside of the Bounce Castle and pluck a tuft of candyfloss from his bunch. He was chewing happily, settled cross legged in the grass as if he’d been there a while, when she emerged from between the two tents. The echoes of ‘hey asshole!’s past seared into her face. 

He hadn’t noticed her amidst the crowd, in truth, but the girl from Flourish and Blotts looked every bit as peeved as he’d hoped she would the next time he saw her. Maybe now she’d take him seriously when he told her that he was one stranger she should be steering clear of.

“Looking for someone?” he asked cheerfully, sucking the melted sugar off his fingers absently and coming back with the taste of face paint with a grimace.

Running through the crowds was a lot harder than it was in the movies, though she should have expected that really. Why would she though? Roxanne had never thought that she’d get robbed, let alone at a festival. That was her first mistake, of course, because how could she let her guard down enough to let something like that happen? She’d grown too comfortable in her own skin, something that (in her mind) couldn’t happen again.

Growing comfortable in her own skin resulted in the tripping over young children’s feet, followed by quick apologies and the ignored glares of the child’s mother.

The loss of the bells on his feet threw her for a loop, because it had been the most obvious give-away for where he was going in a crowd like the one they were in. She could easily follow the jingle jingle of bells, but trying to follow a head wasn’t as easy. For a moment she lost him, not having seen him duck between two tents, and Roxanne ran past his opening until she realized he was out of sight. A string of curses left her lips, and once again she ignored the glares of parents as she turned back around to try and retrace her steps. Where could he have gone?

Bingo.

Roxanne went between the two tents, anger evident on her face, and she crossed her arms. “Don’t you start with me, you fucker. Give me my watch back. I know it was you.”

[disguiiises]

fletchxr:

“How am I to know you don’t?” he countered, fingers curled possessively around his whiskey glass as he cast a morose glance back up the aisle like maybe his potential customer would get spooked by an overzealous teenager who didn’t seem to understand what cats had a tendency to die of. “Jesus,” he sighed beneath his breath, raising a hand in a hushing motion that seemed designed to stop protests in their tracks, “Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to talk to strangers?” 

Mundungus’s eyebrows inched upward as if to impress upon her that he was precisely the stranger people were always warning their children about. 

"Well, I don’t have some grand scheme against you,” she assured, as if that was all it took for the man to believe her. Why would he trust a teenager? He wouldn’t, and Roxanne knew that somewhere in the back of her mind. She ignored all of his annoyed signals, though, in favor of bugging him instead. It was amusing, and it wasn’t like she was ever going to see him again. “Well, we’ve been talking for quite a bit now, so I’d say we’re more acquaintances than strangers. Wouldn’t you think?”

The annoyed expression on his face was a clue enough to tell her that he probably wouldn’t agree.

[disguiiises]

sarciendum:

Sirius was quite sure that Severus’s handwritting couldn’t possibly be as rubbish as the rest of him, but caught himself before saying so out loud. Figured Severus would work here- always had his oversized nose shoved up some brewing book or another back at school. Suddenly the apothecary felt much less benign. But most of his mind was still on his notes, and so Severus Prince and all thoughts pertaining to him were shoved as far, far back as he could manage.

Approaching the counter, Sirius lay down his parchment along with the bottle. With one palm flat on the surface, he turned his body partially and regarded the witch with an almost dumbfounded expression.  Was this a trap? Was he being hamfistedly lured into revealing himself with a Muggle product as bait? It was strangely exhilarating to think so, though he couldn’t have said why.

The look of bewilderment gradually melted into a wide but closed mouth smile. “Go out to the auto shops often, then?” He asked, tone more impish than accusatory. “I can rather picture you waving a spanner about.”

She could faintly catch his expression in the shadows, and Roxanne shifted nervously where she stood. She’d just fucked up, didn’t she? She’d worked for months to try and get this guise down pact, but her mouth had to run and she’d fucked up. How could a pureblood know about auto shops? They didn’t, or at least she was sure they didn’t. Roxanne expected Death Eaters to go tearing through the place at any moment.

She was more surprised when he kept talking instead, though she was a lot more wary.

“I... I’m not sure how’d I’d go out to auto shops,” she lied, giving him a nervous smile and walking to the counter. With any luck, he’d make the purchase and go, but she doubted it would be that easy. “Not like I have any experience. Of course.” She coughed. “Though waving around a spanner would be a bit ditzy--I imagine.”

[disguiiises]

dcdalusdiggle:

He hummed disbelievingly, his expression teasing. “Sure it was. You were young.” A corner of his mouth tipped up wryly. “You say that as if you’re an old lady. What would that make me, I wonder… Ancient?” Dedalus laughed, his head shaking, his expression turning to a grimace when he caught sight of the disapproving clerk at the front of the shop. “Right, uh.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, shuffling out of view. “Accio one,” He looked at the girl pointedly. “Book of Potions by Zygmunt Budge.”

Roxanne snorted at that and shook her head, watching the stranger in amusement. At least he wasn’t pissy about helping her find her book like she’d expected when she’d asked for help--like that drunk librarian. The man was pretty cool. “You don’t exactly look ancient, but if we’re going by those standards...yes.” She shrugged as if that were simply a fact of life. She shrunk slightly under his pointed gaze but looked about when he summoned it, eyes widening as she saw it fly off the top shelf on the other side of the shop. “Watch out!” she warned, trying to grab it.

[fletchxr-blog]

@disguiiises February 9, 1979 1.33PM Near the Petting Zoo.

Two parts court jester, one part circus clown, Mundungus was beginning to think that perhaps he had missed his calling. There was a truly unnerving amount of children to be found within the bounds of the festival’s grounds but their parents pockets were heavy with coins and their moon-eyes were entirely too preoccupied with the twirling pins hurtling through the air to notice if his hands wandered between daring feats. With a merry jingling of bells the crowds parted around him, either unnerved by the sight of a particularly shady looking jester or concerned they might be hit by one of the pins rocketing through the air (that occasionally, spontaneously would erupt into flame to elicit a soft chorus of, ‘oooh’s) from the children trailing behind him like he was the pied piper.

It was with a final flourish that he caught all of his pins with a deep bow, the smattering of applause from the crowd around him dismissed with the heavy clinking of his pockets as he turned, slipping through the gap between two food stalls to make a hasty exit before any missing items could be noticed. 

[disguiiises]

Roxanne didn’t expect to attend the festival and be robbed, but she supposed that was how her day was going to go.

She wouldn’t have even stopped for the clown if she hadn’t caught the curious gleam in his eyes, stopping in her tracks and moving closer to watch him. The feats were impressive, yes, but the inkling that he was familiar nagged and nagged as she followed after his path. She stopped in her tracks when he passed behind her, not wishing to get struck by a flying pin, and finally started clapping when he seemed to be done. He seemed very familiar, but it wasn’t until he started on his way through the crowd that the pieces clicked into place.

The drunken librarian.

Roxanne scowled and pocketed her hands again, freezing and looking both in her pockets and on her wrists. Her watch, the one her parents had given her, was gone, and there was only one reason she could think of for that at the moment. The librarian. “Hey!” she shouted, running after him and colliding with a kid or two. “Hey, get back here asshole!”