#obscurum.starter

[disasoderstrom-blog]

“Oh, darling,” she said, placing a hand on the other’s arm and turning her body towards them. Her touch was light and teasing, gaze half-lidded. Her eyes, however, were clear as they flitted around the interior of the speakeasy before settling back on the other’s face. “-anything I can do to help you...relax?”

[oclumancias-blog]

orange, yellow and red hues adorned the skies, a hint that soon the sun would set and night would soon come. thankfully, for her, work was done for the day. the scouting for news and reports had not been fruitful. new orleans was mysterious, a detail she did not quite expect from a city so heavily impacted by magic. she hoped news would come left and right, she hoped for there to be activity every single day and yet ––– nothing. she supposed silence did not meant good news. she walked down the back alley, with a plethora of parchments in arms –– one false move and it all landed on the floor. “ merde. ”

[fxnestra-blog]

The French Quarter was definitely different. A peculiar area in this part of the world, though Petra was not here as a tourist. Her job was clear, and not once did she take it lightly — after all, the number of crimes in New Orleans have risen so much so that even the Ministry as well as other organizations were involved in the ongoing investigations. 

She looked from side to side, yet her purpose was not to sightsee. Not at this hour, never in this side of town. Instead, she was on the lookout — anything suspicious, anything out of place. A figure in the shadows, she spotted ahead, and she observed them for a moment before approaching. “Everything alright here?”

[oclumancias-blog]

LE MARCHÉ FRANÇAIS ––– the cradle of sights and smells. it would be impossible to not notice the two quite acute traits it had to offer. for, by simply stepping into its nest, it became evident. she was one to delight herself with the oddities no-majs produced, became even fascinated with some of their customs and behavior. fingers trailed through the dusty, hoarse front cover of a newspaper, as she got acquainted with the many happenings of the prior day and lost she came to be in the no-maj world; even for a few minutes. but, the moment was cut short, as the corner of her eye caught sight of someone and that someone seemed eerily familiar. she could not help but lower the newspaper and finally glance, all while the other was possibly unaware that she simply stared.

[fxnestra-blog]

Following the incident at the fall festival and the recent news that had befallen the French Quarter, a different kind of tension seemed to hang in the air. The headlines at the newsstands looked more alarming than usual and Tommy couldn’t help but worry for those who had been affected. Staring at one of the sheets displayed on the stands, it took him a second to realize that someone stood behind him. “Oh, I do apologize. I didn’t mean to be in the way.”

[disasoderstrom-blog]

“Such a shame, those children,” she said quietly. It was the first time she had spoke of the incident. 

All the while she had been enjoying herself, and when the lights had gone out she thought not of the danger but instead had expressed her annoyance and discomfort. The guilt nagged at her now, although a small part of her insisted, ‘Well, I couldn’t have known!’

“I can’t imagine how those families must be feeling. Truly, how despicable those responsible are.”

[fxnestra-blog]

A raven on her shoulder, Amarantha seemed a strange sight out in the daylight as she fed her pet with one hand, all while holding a copy of The Daily Bayou on the other. Poe needed the fresh air and sunlight, she would say, and so she stood along the back alley, just where a good amount of the sun’s rays passed through thick clouds and reached the both of them. Her eyes scanned the headlines and she clicked her tongue. “Missing children, both no-majs and wizards alike... One wonders what message they are trying to send,” she muttered, mostly to herself and perhaps to her raven as well, though she’d become aware that another person was close by.

[oclumancias-blog]

pots and jars were catalogued one by one, as she sat in the candle lit store. behind the counter, one could only make the top of her head, as she arranged and re-arranged the herbs she had brought from home. powdered asphodel root, wormwood, dittany, among the many she had to offer. diligent and patient she was when it came to her herbs. just beside her lay a wicker basket, her baby wrapped around in cozy blankets as she worked. he slept peacefully, despite the constant noise of the bell that resonated through the room each time the door to her husband’s business opened and closed.  “ what may i help you with? ” she asked, for perhaps the one hundred time in what went of the day. it was not really her job to, but she supposed pleasantries did no harm.