#latronem:start

[contenuem-blog]

Emmeline rarely ventured into town when she didn’t absolutely have to for work, tending to keep to herself in her house or dive into work at the hospital completely. But her work required experimental potions, and potions required ingredients. So she’d bundled up against the cold, gritted her teeth, and made the venture into the shops. That was how she’d found herself standing in the middle of the potions shop, her grip tearing at the edges of the newspaper she was holding in her hands. Em could feel the color draining from her face, the fear striking through her body as she got further and further down the article plastered over the front page. Her parents were muggles. Fuck, her parents were muggles that lived only a town over from where this attack was. She would have to move them or cast protection charms. Something, anything to give her peace of mind tat they were safe and out of harm’s way. After what felt like an eternity she threw the paper back down on the shelf she’d found it, turning on her heel as she wiped at her cheeks and running straight into the person that was standing behind her. “Oh, I- sorry.” She said quietly, fighting to keep her voice from shaking.

[maledicentella-blog]

Marcella stood silently in the bathroom, her mind racing over the events of the last couple of hours. She could still feel her wand in her hand, her outreached arm slashing through the air over and over as the cold, cruel laugh of her accomplice rang through the air. Their apparent mission was long over, but it was a feeling she found hard to shake. Almost as if she were high from the adrenaline.

She leaned against her hands, rested on either side of the cold sink as she watched the blood she’d scrubbed off of herself swirl around the marble drain. Sure, she could have easily magicked it away like so many other people did when faced with a mess, but she never really felt clean afterwards. It took physically seeing the muggle blood come off of her for her to feel like she was truly back to how she was before. It helped her clear her head, pull herself out of the clouds and back into a sharper reality.

Marcella turned the water off, closing her eyes and leaning forward until her forehead was resting against the mirror. She stayed there for quite some time, listening to the uneven drip of the remaining water and blood  down the drain. Her hands were clean, but she knew she needed to take a shower to get the remainder of herself clean. As much as she knew she should, she couldn’t bring herself to move. She could have stood there for hours, for forever even; until the sound of someone entering the bathroom door startled her out of her trance. “What.” Marcella asked without moving, her voice soft.

[lucindatalk]

        lucinda was on her way to sip her coffee when she noticed there was a picture of her in an inset on the cover of the witch weekly lying in front of the person beside her. she had no idea if it was theirs or if it had just been there when they arrived, but she also didn’t care. “ can i — ” she began, seizing the magazine without bothering to finish her sentence and flicking through it to find what the hell she was doing there. quidditch profiles were fine, but she hardly expected quality journalism from a gossip rag like this.

[lionhest-blog]

❛   i really am so sorry !!!   ❜  hestia continues to apologize, having moments ago crashed into someone and successfully dumped the contents of her fruity drink onto them.   without looking to see how extensive the damage was,   she immediately reached to grab napkins off of the nearby table to dab at their clothes ; in her moment of stress forgetting both boundaries of personal stress and a simple drying spell.   

[theladynarcissa-blog]

Diagon Alley would always be an adventure, even now. Narcissa remembered what it was like when she was younger, brimming with treasures and the promise of a shiny new thing to amuse herself with. And now that she was an adult, albeit a young one, she felt the same. She loved disappearing off to the shopping disctrict—it was even mother-approved, as Lady Black would never begrudge Narcissa some new bauble or evening gown. It let her get out of the Manor and see other people, which was a blessing. Especially lately, when it seemed like her mother watched her every move. She was in such a good mood that when she saw someone drop one of the parcels she reached down to pick it up, hurrying forward a few steps to tap them on the shoulder. “I think you lost something,” she said, a small smile on her lips.