out · cast

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  outside slug & jiggers, diagon alley  !

the apothecary hasn’t reopened since the attack. that’s what she’d heard, anyway, and from the looks of it, that was about right - the many bouquets and bears and candles that have been left by well meaning wix have formed a memorial that has clearly gone undisturbed by regular business. antigone isn’t sure whether it’s a staffing issue or an undeniable sense of doom, about the place ; then again, she’s not sure whether she’s making the latter part up, based off what she knows. in one hand, she holds argos’ leash and keeps him from barging through the sea of tokens, and held securely by her other arm is the wreath of gerbera daisies she had wanted to lay closer to the door, though it’s going to be a bit of a trek. she’d made a mistake bringing the german shepherd with her, but she hadn’t wanted to leave him behind. with an air of desperation about her, antigone turns to the nearest to ask, “would you mind holding him, a second? he doesn’t pull, or anything- he’s very good.” 

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

answered here

☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?

not particularly. lavinia is much more likely to stay up until the sunrises than wake up with it. it’s not a habit from azkabam, where she had to be up early, but a side effect of her job. she’s a janitor and relatively new at st. mungo’s so she has the night shift more often than not.

🌙 MOON - what is your oc’s greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

when she was younger, lavinia used to dream a lot more than she does now. she had a life planned out and so many hopes and dreams pinned on her shoulders. of course, it’s been a while since she was that hopeful if that makes sense. nowadays her biggest wish, her biggest realistic wish, is to just be able to move on from the horrible thing she did in the past, to settle into a life where she’s at least comfortable and getting the past settled in the past. 

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem? (murder tw)

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

lavinia doesn’t have the best volume control, never really did. she was loud at home, the downstairs neighbors in their apartment building always hitting their ceiling with the broom. growing up nor going to azkaban changed that, she’s still the sort of person who’s always gonna be shushed.

🌟 GLOWING STAR - what do they think about when they look at the night sky? is there someone they want to star gaze with??

the only times that lavinia could really see the night sky, without the light pollution of the city encroaching, were hogwarts and azkaban. two places were she doesn’t have the best memories attached to anymore. she can recogonize that beauty of the night sky, of the infinite promise of the galaxy, but she ignores it really, tells herself she really doesn’t care.

💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it?

lavinia wasn’t always a planner. her teen years and early young adulthood was spent in a haze of chaos with her friends, the only structure in their lives coming from the orders that they got from the DE. but she got used to structure and having her days planned out when she. you know. locked up. her days now are very structured, planned out to the minute. she doesn’t always follow that but she does have to at least fall back on.

OPEN STARTER : @startertms. LOCATION : anywhere in wix london.

“ mon dieu… ” fleur mumbled to herself, burying her phone in the back pocket of her jeans quite harshly. it was near useless to her since it she was convinced it was taking her to anywhere but where she needed to be. it could almost be seen a humorous to anyone that knew just how many years fleur had been residing in england — only to be found like a mind boggled foreigner struck with culture shock. clearing her throat a little too loud, also an attempt to grab the attention of the person closest to her. “ pardon ? i’m so sorry to disturb you, but would you know know the quickest way to get to hogsmeade from here ? ”

“I…” He trails off as he witnesses someone drop their drink and the staff just watches it happen with little regard. “Wow.” If his coffee wasn’t an obscene amount of money, he would’ve just left it and gone somewhere else. He did develop his mother’s frugalness anyway. “Why charge all this if none of it is even going toward cleaning the damned place?”

—

“the price is for the experience.” honestly, lavinia didn’t even think the coffee was too expensive but she’d opted for one of the drip coffees with cream and sugar instead of the more expensive espresso drinks where they added fifty cents for every pump of whatever syrup they added. “ya know, that classic, grimy and dark coffeehouse experience. the sticky floor is what makes it different from those chains.”

It’s only distantly that Otto processes she’s being spoken to, like a light through the fog of her mind. There’s something there, trying to push through, but it takes a few moments for it to register. Cleaning. Right. That’s– “S-sorry.” She stutters out the word, side-stepping a moment before she opens her eyes. The hall tilts and turns around her, but the part of her that is determined not to be be an inconvenience is fairly certain that she can at least make it down the hall before stopping again. Her legs, however, seem to disagree.  

She makes all of three steps before her legs wobble dangerously and she’s forced to drop the chocolate in favor of grabbing onto the wall. “One second. And then I’ll–I’ll be out of your way. Promise.” 

  — 

tragedy did not stop the day to day work of the hospital, made it even more vital. blood and dirt and whatever else visitors tracked in were not things to be left to stain the floor. maybe there was a world where lavinia would know how to handle this sort of thing. but that lavinia, that brilliant and whipsmart girl who hadn’t left school only to be whisked away to azkaban a few scant months later, wouldn’t be in the halls of st mungo’s, breathing in that stall and sterile-scented air. no, and as her sister liked to remind her, she'd squandered something great, squandered that magic-tinged brilliance, squandered that chance to reach for more than the run-down apartment in muggle london that the sisters still called home long after childhood. 

“right.” she couldn’t lose the job. not when she’d barely been able to get it. but she stood there, no rush to get back to work beyond the awkwardness of watching someone cry in the hallway and the boredom the grew every moment she stood there. she gave otto a once over. “you aren’t bleeding all over the floor right? that would make my afternoon suck, you know?”

the feeling of being watched becomes half the problem. keira can’t think straight under the weight of someone else’s gaze, hating to be the centre of attention for even ONE moment, even when she’s the one putting on a show. she didn’t have much of a plan to begin with, but the prickle at the back of her neck that tells her she’s drawn someone’s direct attention is enough for her to abandon sense & stretch her arm to point of hurting to try and reach the lock, only stopping when lavinia’s voice rings out, loud & clear. “my cats in there,” she says, miserably, grateful for the offer but aware that ‘life or death’ mightn’t mean the same to her as it does the other. “i might…- maybe-” still attached to the door, she digs around in her jacket pocket and pulls out a rather bent paperclip ( along with a few other tiny junk items of no concern ), “it’s broken. will that work?”

Alexander snorts, he regarded the sticky floor with the utmost annoyance.  He had a fear that he would lift his shoe and the bottoms would just stay there on the ground. “It feels like it, doesn’t it?” He half-heartedly replies, just eager to get his coffee and leave. “You would think they’d know better.”

—

“honestly doubt they even mop in this joint. some kid drops their iced chai and they just leave it there to dry.” lavinia shrugged. “maybe even throw the used espresso pods on the ground to make everyone takes a bit of the coffeeshop home.” she raised her foot then, looked at the bottom of her shoe and examined the tread for some grounds stuck there. “i think i see some caramel stuck on there. that’s gonna be a bitch to get out.”

The  outburst  is  enough  to  catch  Seamus’  attention,   hint  of  a  smirk  tugging  at  the  corner  of  his  mouth  while  fork  takes  another  stab  at  fried  breakfast.   He  can’t  pretend  he’s  noticed  the  floor  during  his  time  here,   but  then,   there’s  a  DULL  THROB  of  a  hangover  looming  over  him,  clouding  senses.   Turns  out   (   according  to  this  Finnigan  at  least.   Don’t  quote  him  out  it.   ),   the  best  cure  while  recovering  from  a  Death  Eater  attack?   Flaming  sambucas.   It’s  not  quite  what  the  Healer  ordered,   however,   still  effective.   Until  the  next  morning.   Now  he’s  in  twice  the  amount  of  pain,   with  twice  the  amount  of  exhaustion,   tucking  into  food  that  might  be  about  to  give  him  twice  the  nausea  if  Lavinia’s  keen  observations  are  ANYTHING  to  go  on.          ‘     Can’t  say  ‘ve  really  noticed  the  floor  that  much.      —     But  then  ‘m  probably  used  to  the  stick.   You’d  be  amazed  how  much  beer  and  shots  a  group  of  people  can  spill  on a  Friday  night  down  the  pub.     ’          And  when  he  says  people,   he’s  only  partially  including  himself. 

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  commoratio alley, london  !

she’s not actually going to be able to unlock her front door. even if her arm was long enough to reach the deadlatch, the thin slot her mail gets pushed through doesn’t provide nearly enough give for her to grab the little handle and pull it down, and she knows she’s nowhere close even as she desperately pushes herself against the wood and tries. she’ll be lucky if she doesn’t get STUCK there, but she can’t do nothing when her cat sits on the bottom step inside and yowls as if his life depends on it, surely playing up his hunger but with such conviction she half believes him. she cuts a rather pathetic picture to passersby, and the keen awareness of that - and the sinking, hopeless feeling the more she struggles - combines unpleasantly as she begins venting that on them, muttering beneath her breath as she continues to try reach her lock, “just keep walking- totally fine, here- it’s not as if it’s life or death or anything- you bastards-” 

𝓁𝑜𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃: a hallway of st. mungo’s hospital 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓉𝓊𝓈: open ( @startertms​ ) 

Strictly speaking, she’s not sure how it got there but as Otto meanders down the hall, stressed and slightly dissociative but deemed physically fit by the healers, she’s got a chocolate bar clutched in one hand. The other remains clenched tightly at her side but otherwise empty. The effects would wear off, they assured her, she’d get back to feeling normal sooner rather than later and ultimately it would all be fine. But the healers’ expressions had been pinched and tense and she really can’t blame them because everything has gone to shit. The good part is: she’s free. The bad part is: she doesn’t know where anyone other than Justin is. Or if they’re okay. Or where to even start looking. And it’s that sort of anxious distortion of possibility, the kind that has the hall stretching out longer on either side of her like a fucking funhouse, that has her leaning back against the wall, eyes closed, forcing herself to breathe. 

In. Hold it. Out. 

Again.

In. Hold it. Out. 

“Shit…”

—

“i’m, uh, mopping, kid.” lavinia stood there, her cart full of cleaning supplies pushed up against the wall and spell still active on the mop in question. “cleanliness standards don’t stop just because of tragedy, you know?” the kid probably didn’t know, really, but that didn’t stop lavinia. “still gotta clean and shit. you’d be surprised how quickly gunk builds up here.” she looked around the hall, looked around for some sort of nurse or healer to wave over, to hand off the young woman to, and came up empty. “i can’t make you go back to your room.” mostly because it was outside the bounds of their job, probably some sort of malpractice thing if she even tried. “but can i get you to at least stand somewhere else.”