r ö s l e i n

rosamund astrid blishwick. rose. twenty-four years old and lost as fuck. CURRENT MOON var ccm_cfg = { pth:"http://www.moonmodule.com/cs/", fn:"ccm_h1.swf", lg:"en", hs:1, tf:"12hr", scs:1, df:"std", dfd:0, tc:"111111", bgc:"F8F8F8", mc:"111111", fw:146, fh:63, js:0, msp:0, u:"mc" } phases of the moon

[roseblishwick]

[nikon-volkov-deactivated2017112]

Why would I know? Why do you talk at me?

[roseblishwick]

"I thought one of the other interns might know. Aside from what little information Mr. Ashwinder, there's not really much about Monday anywhere else."

"Are you new? I don't believe I've seen your face before."

[theimpprogramrpg-event]

ROTATION 2: CASE FILE

[theimpprogramrpg-event]

This past weekend a primarily pureblood wizarding neighborhood in Chelsea, suffered an explosive attack that is believed to be the handiwork of the the anti-pureblood group known as the New Blood Order. There were several fatalities and injuries, and while the New Blood Order is the prime suspect of the attack, various departments within the Ministry of Magic and St. Mungo’s are hard at work in settling the chaos that this attack has brought on the neighborhood. 

Interns assigned to the case are reminded that all information associated with this case is sensitive material, and while the media does have a good amount of information from their snooping, please do not comment on any inqueries that the press may present, nor do not share any with anyone without proper clearance (employment within the Ministry or St. Mungo’s). 

Evidence found at the scene of the crime is as follows: 

The main target of the bombing was a memorial statue in the center of the neighborhood of Damocles Rowle, Rowle was the Minister for Magic from 1718-1726, and was a resident of this village, he is also well known for his anti-muggle stance.

Carved into the side of a nearby home were the words, “Those truly of pure blood will rise from their shackles, as those who live in deceit will pay for their transgressions.” This phrase has been used as a signature of sorts from other verified New Blood Order attacks, and it is suspected to be as such.

Witnesses around the neighborhood remember seeing a group of individuals earlier that morning at around 2a.m. Out of all the statements, the group appears to be around ten in number, and presumably they were in plainclothes. Witnesses reported that they were unable to get any good looks at the faces of these suspects, even though they remember no efforts to conceal their faces. It is suspected magic was at work here.

There is one bomb that appears to have been a “dud”, it has been taken back to the Department of Magical Technologies for further investigation. 

There were several areas throughout the neighborhood where bombs were successfully set off, but given the level of damage that occurred, it is suspected that both magic and muggle technology was used. It is suggested that only healing and diagnostic spells are to be used at the scene of the crime. Any other sort of magic may trigger any left over artifacts from the explosives.

Last but not least, while the neighborhood is primarily wizarding, the neighborhood does border along the more muggle part of Chelsea; all with permission to be at the scene should be dressed in muggle attire, and are advised to use the designated apparition points listed on the following page.

[theimpprogramrpg-event]

Blishwick and Belgarde, 

First things first, I don’t like having interns. There I said it, I don’t like playing baby sitter to you lot. You don’t got the training to be of any actual help, and you ask more questions than a house elf in a whore house. BUT, apparently taking you lot under my big shiny wings looks good to ol’ Ira Cromwell, and if I want to make Head Auror by the time I’m thirty-five, then I’m just gonna have to suck it up and do it.

Anyway, so I’m sure you’ve all heard about the incident in Chelsea, bomb went off killed a few folks, major news right now. Well that’s not your case. I’ve been itchin’ to get my hands on anything New Blood Order related too, but oh no some wise ass needed to go startin’ a fuckin’ werewolf fighting ring. So looks like we’re all stuck together, I need to kiss ass to the boss man, you need a nice looking rotation spot on your resumes, and the auror office is spread so thin the annoying rainbow shitting redhead at Ministry Munchies will probably get called in next. But that’s auror work for ya. 

Back to the fight ring case- and let’s get this straight right now, this is my case. Not our’s, mine. If shit hits the fan, it’s my ass on the line not your’s. Though I’ll definitely make sure some shit comes your way too. You two are my assistants for lack of a better term. You’ll take notes, follow me around all day, hell make me tea when I ask. And if you do well I might just let you ask me some questions, maybe.

My grading scale is easy, I don’t kick you out of your spot before the two weeks is up then you’re golden. I run by a strict rule of one fuck up then you’re out, I ain’t here to baby you and I ain’t here to get fired over your asses either. You both can meet me in my office at 8a.m tomorrow morning, I got a couple CIs of mine I wanna track down and see if I can make ‘em sing a little for us.

Don’t forget your NoteBooks. 

- Brendan Monday

[roseblishwick]

"Do you think Monday would kill me if I brought one of Harry Potter's guides to work? It really is very helpful."

[theimpprogramrpg-event]

Intern Evaluation: Rose Blishwick

Weaknesses of Intern: None to report, here!

Strengths of Intern: Very skilled crime scene photographer, especially for a newbie. I barely needed to steer her all that much as far as what to photograph.

Overall Thoughts: It was great having two interns who had so much interest in the case. They didn’t laugh at my jokes as much as I would have liked, but hey you can’t please ‘em all. Both Morgan and Rose were a great help, and I’m sure they’ll do well in the rest of their internships. 

[roseblishwick]

data gathering || self-para

"So I got assigned to the Crime Investigation Unit," Rose said. Breakfast was reheated schnitzel, and when Anthony saw it, he made a face.

Rose had only been in London a little over a fortnight, but the two had already established a routine. Whoever made breakfast had the newspaper first; after several unfortunate attempts at cooking English food, Rose had given up and deferred to schnitzel. Unfortunately, she was an early riser, and they'd had it every day for almost a week. Anthony had left a cookbook for her to peruse, but she hadn't had the time to check it yet. She supposed it ought to be like making potions, but something with all the sautéing and flambéing gave her pause. (Perhaps because it was so French.)

They were sat at the table, picking at their food with the interest of curious cats, leisurely but with purpose. "Really," Anthony said, looking up from his copy of the Daily Prophet. "And how are you finding it?" It was the tone he used when he was teaching: no point in telling me a lie, it said, but I will listen.

"No one knows about...my habits," Rose said, steadfastly looking at her schnitzel, "and the dead body I was assigned to was a wolf." She closed her eyes and shivered. Rose would cry, but she was twenty-four, no longer a child. "Unidentified, young. Heard anything?"

She felt a strong hand pat her on the shoulder. Rose looked up to find Anthony looking away, his mouth set in a line. "They're testing you," he said, furious and sure. "What else can you expect from the Ministry?"

A long pause, tension in the air. "Heard anything, Anthony?" Rose's voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"Richard Provington recently went missing. Author of the academic's version of Hairy Snout, Human Heart. Brave man, really, to come out as a werewolf to a bunch of stiff old fogies." He shook his head then, sighing.

"Castor -- my boss said he might have been in a werewolf fighting ring." She took a bite of her food, chewing carefully and swallowing. "You have those around here?"

He looked her in the eye for a moment, paper forgotten. "I'll look into it."

[mason-belgarde]

Yeah, I guess you’re right with that. And no problem, I can be all ears when needed. Well, not literally, that would take a lot of human transfiguration work, which I’m not up to.

[roseblishwick]

"I would definitely appreciate that. It might help me get through the rest of the work week." Rose laughed at Mason's comment, shaking her head. "If you buy a lot of the Weasley ear things, then theoretically, you could cover yourself with ears and be, on the surface, all ears."

[corner-m]

"Wait, wait..."

[corner-m]

"Not ashamed, no - I think it’s rather cute. There’s nothing wrong with enthusiasm! It’s not a problem at all. I’m not sure he’ll remember much about me, I was never a master herbologist.

Well that sounds rather pessimistic. I think it’s a rather lovely city. There’s still lots to see at night, but I suppose it depends. I don’t mind though, I don’t start until ten tomorrow anyhow. I’ll just stop by my flat to change quickly then we can go. Meet you in front of the Ministry in 5?”

[roseblishwick]

"From what I've read, he doesn't seem the type to forget people. This is so amazing! Certainly didn't expect to make these kinds of contacts so early." 

"That sounds good to me! See you in a while," Rose said before leaving to get her coat.

[mason-belgarde]

"Well, that might end up becoming a problem, considering I was never a particularly good Occlumens." He smiled wider, he’d missed talking like this with other people.

"Oh, some of my friends ended up being reduced to open mouthed dummies around veelas. I wasn’t much better to be perfectly honest. Sounds like a good idea to me, especially with the point of almost being on the same case."

"Well, one sibling was five minutes younger, and the other was five years younger. And to be fair to them, they always acted more mature than I ever did. Twenty seven, so you were close. I’ve heard from some people being pretty adamant on where they want to end up. Me, I’m fine with anywhere in the Ministry, really. I think my father wants me to be an Auror, but he’s biased, being a Auror himself."

[roseblishwick]

"We are poorly matched, then. Should I have mercy on you?" In truth, Rose hated using Legilimency; it felt too much like prying.

"Honest question: does it matter what gender the veela is or what gender the person they're unconsciously seducing is? I've always wondered. And you, speechless? I don't know if I could believe it. Well, I'm sure we''l have a lot to talk about, then. I should write to my mother! She was worried I wouldn't be able to make friends."

"So a twin! How lovely. Where are they now? Ah, it's good thing my father's a book dealer. He definitely wouldn't want me to follow in his footsteps, maybe because I'm terrible at bargaining."

[nadinchaudhry-deactivated201510]

“Wind and rain, huh?”

[nadinchaudhry-deactivated201510]

"Jackets, ha… yes. Now you’ve said that, I’m not sure if I brought enough with me. I do have them, though—a pair or two, I think. Maybe I should get myself some more jackets and cheat a bit with, indeed, a warming charm."

"Born and raised. I’ve lived there for the past 21 years. It’s very different from England so far, but I’ll manage. Ah, I see! Well, since you were talking about Germany’s temperature I figured that was the case. And shi—sorry! I kinda lost track of introducing myself. The name’s Nadin Chaudhry, and it’s a pleasure meeting you."

[roseblishwick]

"Oh, two is certainly not enough. The weather'll be cold for a few months yet, and two jackets for all that time? And from what I hear, the other interns might want to go out to lunch, as well, so we'll really be walking in the crisp London air. I have no idea how the other's do it, actually."

Being here must be exciting for you! It is for me, and I only live a couple of hours away by Muggle transport. It's nice to meet you too! My name is Rose Blishwick, and as you surmised, I'm from Germany.

[morgangreenwell]

A Matter of Murder || Morgan, Rose, Aditi, Mason

[mason-belgarde]

After the flume he had received very early this morning, Mason realised that it had to be something important. So with a coat on, and the strongest coffee he could find, as well as his Notebook and a pen, he headed down towards East End. Obviously to do with the werewolf case he was on with the Department of Magical Folk, but ungodly hours were never really Mason’s specialty.

Reaching the area, he could see that there was quite a crowd. Not a robe in sight, he was glad he had not worn his own. He sighed, Muggles really did have a tendency to stick their nose in where it wasn’t particularly wanted. Taking a look around whilst drinking his coffee, Mason caught sight of who he remembered to be Morgan Greenwell. He strode over to the police tape, and dug around for his ID when prompted by the severe looking police officer. A grunt from the other man, and he was allowed through.

Slowly making his way over to the familiar face of Morgan, he mulled over the case. A dead werewolf. It was a frightening thought, and accompanied by a large question he was sure the MLE CSI group would have as well — who or what in Merlin’s name would be able to kill a werewolf so flippantly? Certainly Mason had learnt about werewolves being shoved to the sidelines of community in the past, but murder?

Before he even reached where the other intern was standing, he was intercepted by a smaller figure for whom he guessed to be Celia Dennis.

"You, must be Mason Belgarde. Right, okay. I should take you over to meet Castor and his interns, so you can gather information. Oh, have you seen Aditi Kapur? I was so sure I flumed her!" Her slightly erratic way of talking already had Mason’s head spinning, and he was hoping she would lead him to do work so he perhaps didn’t have to listen to her. "Maybe she just lives a little further away than you do! Come, come, I’ll introduce you to Castor and his interns."

Mason found himself nodding silently, following Ms. Dennis with a hand in his pocket, and empty coffee cup in the other hand. He guessed he would need more coffee before the day was over.

When the reached other wixen, he nodded a hello to Morgan, before extending a hand and introduction to Castor Harewell. Celia and Castor exchange small words, which Mason assumed were about the deceased werewolf.

He turned to Morgan, and stuffed both hands into his pockets again. “Have you been here long? Or, um, even seen the body?”

[morgangreenwell]

Morgan pulled her blue raincoat around her more closely as she turned the last corner on her way to the crime scene. Rain drizzled lightly from the sky and she squinted, trying to see through the morning fog to the large crowd of people packed into an alleyway ahead. From what she could tell, it was mostly reporters – many of them Muggle.

She elbowed her way through the gathering to its front edge, where police tape crossed the alley. A policeman held up his hand to her and she flashed her ID. “I’m with Castor Harewell,” she said, grinning inwardly. It was like a television show!

But then the policeman waved her through and she wasn’t thinking of television shows anymore. A dead wolf lay on the pavement, his head lolling to one side, fur matted with dirt and blood.

Morgan glanced up and into the eyes of a curly-haired man with bright eyes and a scruff of facial hair.

“Castor Harewell,” he said, striding over swiftly and offering her a hand even while his head craned over her to examine the onlookers. She shook it with a careful firmness and smiled at him, and he refocused his attention on her. “And you are… Morgan, is that right?”

She nodded, knowing the question was most likely a polite pretense. Any man in his line of work must have a brilliant memory for detail, and surely he had looked at her file. “That’s me. Thank you so much for taking me on – I mean, I know you could have just had me running for coffee or something –”

“Oh, nonsense. We need all the help we can get. And, you know, supporting bright young minds and all that.” He winked. “But! On to the case! Have you seen the body? Real werewolf, haven’t had one of those in ages.”

Morgan flashed back on the mention of excitement in his note and had to work hard not to glare. A man was dead, couldn’t he care a little more? But then, she was sure he had his reasons. And he saw these things all the time, right?

“All right, you stand over there and write down what I say, got it? And the other one – Rose… is she here?”

Morgan glanced around, looking for the other girl.

“We’ll need her for pictures, we’ve got to get this documented and move the body before the Muggle press runs away with it,” Castor continued. “Wolves in the East End. Ha.”

[roseblishwick]

where: crime scene when: rotation one who: morgan, rose, aditi, mason

Rose had woken up early that day; London was just so different from home, and that made it difficult for her to sleep. She'd gone to work, hoping for a chance to work with the camera before they were assigned to check the body. She'd had enough time to figure out the basics when she decided to check her flume. It seemed she'd gotten a message to go to the scene of the crime.

Reading the coordinates, Rose concentrated and Apparated to East End She hated the feeling, but getting to the crime scene was urgent. It seemed she was already running late, and she would hate to disappoint on the first day of work. 

She ended up beside one of the wixen she'd seen around the Ministry during her interview. There was a crowd of Muggles surrounding them, but given the charms that were in place -- she could sense a light one placed, else they would be panicking about the dead wolf -- it was unlikely they'd noticed her appearance. 

Camera in hand, she walked to where the wixen were crowding around. Spotting Mason, she moved toward him slowly, wanting and not wanting to see the body. She was a few feet away from them when she saw it.

Gruesome and bloody, the body shocked Rose to the very core. It had only been a few days since the last moon, and to see someone of her own kind so mangled, lifeless, was terrifying. Rose nearly whimpered, but held herself together when she saw Castor Harewell waving her over. 

"There's a girl! Rose, I hope you've met your fellow interns, Morgan and Mason? And you're acquainted with the body, of course." He grinned at her then. Lächeln, Rose, she thought to herself. If her returning smile was a little strained, no matter. They had work to do. 

Castor wasted no time. Pointing at the man's shoulders, he said,  "If you take a look here, you'll notice the bite marks. Note how the scratches match up to claw marks? These don't seem to be his, given the direction of the strokes." He looked up at them. "I want you two to document this thoroughly. Our wolf here appears to have been attacked by another of his kind." 

Rose steadied herself behind the lens, willing herself to ignore the sudden waves of nausea she felt. Not only was the person dead, but he was a werewolf, hurt by another of his kind. Meine Verwandten. Brüder des Mondes, Rose thought. Her hands were shaky, but she managed to get the job done. 

"Well, this is strange," Castor said. Gloves on, he was examining the victim's mouth. "I can't seem to find anything of our buddy's enemy. With the wounds on his face, I'd have thought there'd be some evidence of a fight." 

[loyal-lionheart-blog]

I, uhm, I got babysitting the Minister’s kids.  Which, y’know, isn’t too bad, just… not what I was expecting.  At all.

Yours sounds interesting, though!

[roseblishwick]

"Are they nice? They seem like lovely children in the pictures."

"Yes, interesting, but I didn't expect they'd assign us something so intense so early. I've never seen a dead body before."

[joaquinportico-blog]

Mind whirling around at the speed of a small bicycle about to tip, he accepts the offered tart and takes a huge bite. Seriously, how long had he been in the program? A few days. And to think, everything he’d built up was about to crumble down like a fine pie crust.

J.P chewed vigorously, using the stretch of silence to frantically assess his options–– hex her and run away? No, he was in the Ministry, for merlins’s sake! Pretending he had no idea what she was going on about obviously wasn’t working, she had the memory of a sphinx. There was only one option left, only one thing he could do in this corner the blonde ––What had her name been, Rhonda? Rosalind? Rose?–– had painted him into.

After he swallowed he abandoned the rest of the tart and, wiping his hands on the frilled apron he’d been forced to wear over his robes, reached for the girl’s wrist. “Come with me. Quick, before someone sees.”

[roseblishwick]

Something in the air shifted; not even freshly baked goods could hide the stench of a secret about to be spilled. Rose hummed as Joaquin chewed, watching his facial expressions change She thought she saw something in his eyes when he glanced at her, and the sudden thought of death entered her mind. She shook her head. What was wrong with her?  

He grasped her hand , and she was dragged along to a secluded room, a broom closet. It was more spacious than the one at home, but its sterility made it seem scarier.

Rose looked up at him. "What is it, Joaquin? Something must be bothering you." 

[nicosolanos-blog]

old geezers || nico & rose

[nicosolanos-blog]

Well, on day one they gave me these wicked cool antlers and some like, glowing green sort of eyes. That was pretty cool. Recently though they’ve been working on like, I don’t know how to describe it, but like, trying to accomplish what gillyweed does without the gillyweed. That one’s been a touch and go one. Been doing that for a couple days. …Although now that I think about it, I’m probably not supposed to tell you about that one. So… Keep your mouth shut.

[roseblishwick]

"Doesn't it make you wonder how on earth these would even work, if used in the real world? I certainly want to know how antlers could be a suitable disguise. My lips are sealed, though I may pop in there next time to see what you're doing."

[monocromeinaugust-blog]

whitehall | gus & rose | january

“Whitehall.” He breathed the word to no one in particular. Octavius did not make it a habit of speaking aloud, not even to himself, but he could smell something stirring today. Something about the conclusion felt right enough to voice. He seemed not to notice there was anyone else in the corridor and gave the explanation to the ceiling and walls as if they had requested something further than the statement.

“Normally I would say Richmond to Westminster and venture off from there but no…today is a long sunset of Whitehall, I think.”

[roseblishwick]

Rose had gone back to headquarters to pick up her things. She'd left them behind, thinking that she would have time to return. It was later than she'd expected, almost dark, and she  still had to walk home; she was afraid to Apparate in these streets, strange and beautiful all at once.

The closet was empty, the rooms quiet. Leaving early was  a blessing, and everyone else had taken it, except Rose and that disembodied voice muttering about  something white, then sunsets. 

She follows the voice to someone familiar. "Are you alright?" she says, concern lacing her voice as she looks at her fellow intern.

[oliverparkinson]

"I suppose. Sugar does make people happy."

"You are very beautiful if you do not mind me saying."

[roseblishwick]

"Glad we agree on that, at least. Are you fond of sweets?"

"How nice of you to say! You're quite lovely, as well. I haven't seen an ugly intern yet."