𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙

tw: blood

Kneeling down outside of The Grave Affair, Remus snapped another photo of the scene. Several large pools of blood had formed where the victims had been attacked, some pooling together so closely it was difficult to tell what belonged to each victim.

Remus suddenly felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. 'What if it had been him?' He mused. 'He was lucky to have such good friends.' A voice suddenly made his head turn, snapping up to the person who spoke. "Did you see anything last night?" He asked firmly. "Just trying to get a picture of what transpired."

"hey,"  they  greet  him,  and  though  they're  a  touch  startled  by  his  reaction,  it's  then  that  mary  realizes  the  hood  of  their  jacket  is  covering  most  of  their  head..  when  they  pull  it  back  and  reveal  their  telling  amass  of  curls,  they  place  a  comforting  hand  upon  remus'  shoulder.

"it's  just  me,  don't  worry.  m'sorry,  moony,  but  i  didn't  see  anything.  i  barely  got  out  into  the  mess  of  things  when  the  wolf  ran  off,  and.  all  i  really  saw  was  the  blood,"  they  speak,  somewhat  guilty  that  they  weren't  front  and  center  to  help  or  do  anything  of  use  to  others  because  they  were  too  busy  searching  for  answers  of  their  own.

Despite her attempts to locate all of her loved ones at the scene of the events, Lily hadn't come across Maryse, and even though she knew that her friend hadn't been one of the attacked, she was still too worried to not check up on them. So it was that she stood outside of Maryse's flat at the crack of dawn, waiting for them to open the door. Lily had only gotten a couple hours of sleep and would have to head into work soon, but checking up on her friends was far more important than sleep. When the door swung open, Lily sighed in relief. "Thank heavens, are you okay?"

they're  just  waking,  rubbing  tired  eyes  from  under  the  comfort  of  their  own  duvet  thrown  over  their  head  to  shield  from  the  sun,  when  a  knocking  on  the  door  brings  them  to  alertness  immediately.  it's  telling  that  maryse's  heart  begins  to  race,  aware  of  the  times  they're  living  in  and  with  recent  events  darkening  the  mood  amongst  the  wizarding  community,  they  waste  no  time  making  their  way  to  answer  the  door  after  a  peek  through  the  window  reveals  it's  merely  their  best  friend.

"hey,  lils,"  they  sigh  in  turn,  stepping  back  to  allow  lily  to  come  inside  the  flat.  "i'm  alright,  i was..  nowhere near the chaos, but.  i'm hoping to take up more shifts soon, maybe people will be talking and i can find out some information.  there  can't  be  much  that's  worth  a  knut, but.."  maryse  trails  off  with  a  click  of  their  tongue,  closing  the  door  as  soon  as  lily's  come  in.  "how  are  you?"

He took a sip of the drink once he had permission, humming softly as he tasted it. "Amazing, you should start doing this professionally," he joked. "You must think I'm made of money," he scoffed. He glanced around the room, it not too busy yet and still maintaining a nice ambience. "Are you busy or can you entertain me for a while?" he asked playfully before taking another sip of the drink.

“i accept the bribe of your company, and i am never too busy for you.” they can easily walk around the bar, but instead use their palms to hoist themself to sit atop the bar, gracefully swinging their legs over to leave them now dangling over the bar to the right side of james. “i've been dying to take a break anyways, and who better to spend it with?” a loving grin towards their friend, and maryse gives a gentle nudge of their thumb against his jaw near his ear.

—longing for love

He should have offered to work the entire festival. A particularly dangerous thought, but Sirius couldn’t seem to shake it. Things would have been easier. More specifically, there would have been a counter to hide behind if it came to having to face ghosts of his past head-on instead of having to properly deal with them. Try as he may, there was never any shaking the more negative thoughts that accompanied attending Ministry sanctioned events. It wasn’t anything a little bit of alcohol couldn’t fix but he still wasn’t entirely in the mood for dealing with people. “You know,” He gave a dejected sigh a plopped a piece of fairy floss in his mouth, not bothering to look toward who he was talking to since not getting an answer was something he would have accepted. “One of the muggle bars managed to infuse theirs with enough vodka to get a good buzz. We need to step up.”

the familiarity between the two leads mary without hesitation to slip their hand in the crook of his elbow, linking their arms and resting their head against his shoulder now that they're in his proximity. he seems bothered by something, though they're not certain what, and they can only hope their attention and affection will soothe his afflictions.

“while i don't know the first thing about making fairy floss, i'm certain i could do so at the hopping pot if they give us the necessary tools,” maryse answers with a hopeful lilt to their voice, lifting their head to give him an encouraging smile, “if i can pester my boss enough, convince him there's a need. i'm certain i can make it happen for you.”

nodding as the wix explained, his eyes quickly moving between mary's and the glass in front of him. " well, " he started, lifting the glass closer to his face to better study the lemon peels, " it's certainly the most unique drink i've been served here before. " he lifted the glass to his lips, taking a small, experimental sip.

smile tugging at his lips, " this one top looks like a lopsided dog. "

maryse is always up to the task with requests from patrons of the hopping pot, and there's nothing that sparks their creative juices more than when someone says surprise me. their gaze is trained on his features as he's surveying his drink, tips of their glittered nails tapping melodiously ( impatiently ) against the countertop, waiting for him to give it a taste with a grin spreading at his complimenting it as the most unique ( !! ); something maryse will file away fondly with an immediate favour of the wizard in front of them.

“a lopsided dog?” their features aren't showing taking offense by the answer, but shining with amusement as they lean over the counter with a cant of their head to get a glimpse of what he's seeing.

mischief gleams and glints in the gaze that moves to meet his own, “do you think we'll attract the entire pot's attention if we make our little lemon peel bark?”

But as he got comfortable on the stool he realised Mary was paying less attention to him and more just rambling to whoever would listen. When they finally looked at him and plopped a drink in front of him, James grinned. "They look exactly like bees. Which, luckily for you, is okay because I'm not scared of bees. But - oof - if I was.. terrifying, that's how realistic the bees are." He grinned once more. "Am I allowed drink it or is it just for decoration?"

“i better be your only macdonald,” maryse notes with their lip jutting out in a pout, but it doesn't stay that way long out of pure joy at james' company. half empty glass of firewhiskey out of sight behind the bar, music playing softly in the background, one of their loved ones warming the spot belonging to them in maryse's heart—this is their happy place, run in with a wholly different 'he who shall not be named' be damned.

“i’m a talented little bartender, i am,” they boast with a toss of their curls over their shoulder after a short little bow in humble acceptance of his darling compliments; they are indeed the way to a wix's heart, after all. “of course you can drink it! i made it especially for you. i’m also expecting a twenty percent tip just for my excellent carving skills, by the way,” maryse teases.

he stands a bit taller now than mary remembers him, but merlin help them if he's not just as devilishly handsome, a small heat rising up their neck with each passing moment their eyes are locked—it's anger, flushing their skin, nothing else. it can't be anything else, they've spent so much time ensuring it never will be. striking hues that would watch them so carefully, how they used to gaze upon them with what maryse assumed was love and reverence.. what it truly was in the end, they may never know.

and then he speaks, and it's so familiar yet foreign all the same; a smidge deeper than the voice they've turned over and over again in their memories, and they're left to wonder at the things it does to the version of larkin mulciber they've kept in their head all of these years.

their name on his tongue brings back flecks of their old lover, the one they knew like the back of their hand in the shadows of his underworld castle, the darkness that'd drawn them in so effortlessly. while others only saw obsidian, mary witnessed the golden sheen he became in their sunlight. there's a slight hitch in their breath— the smallest of sounds, and it feels like an eternity between the time he speaks their name and when mary's voice comes back to them.

“what about what i want?” they argue, taking a dangerous step closer. if they really knew what was best for them, they would've turn and run as far as they could in the opposite direction, but tearing their gaze away from him was more difficult than any inclination to flee.

“you can't force me to leave this be.” not again, they don't say. there are so many things maryse wants to say, wants to ask, but this already feels far too exposing; unable to contain the reactions he elicits within them to this day. @larkin-mulciber

"Tequilla honey bee?" The witch smirked giving the drink a light swirl in her hand. Scoffing she added: "Please tell me you've jinxed the jar to sting anyone that touches it, just for the irony alone." Quirking a brow as she took a sip before looking at the tiny little bees. "Are you going to sting me if I say no?" The witched teased, giving a light wave of her wand and watching the 'bee' flutter. "If a bee was squished by a broom-..but that still counts? It's cute- but it tastes even better. Have you tried it? I swear you're really getting the hang of these."

“oh! sad to say i haven't yet, but you're an absolute genius for that idea. best believe that'll 'bee' my next addition when i make it again,” the pun leaves their following words laced with giggles.

“my little broom bees,” maryse speaks proudly, loving glances moving between marlene and the enchanted lemon peel now buzzing around the two. sharing one of their creations with one of their closest friends leaves a warmth blooming in their chest, and they reach out with a shake of their head in answer to her question.

“i haven't tried yet, but i'd kill for a taste if you're willing to part with it, my love,” they give a teasing quirk of their brows, unashamed to admit they never truly taste their own drinks out of utter conviction in their ability to make anything taste irresistable when it's made with love.

TAILORED TO: anyone.

SETTING: the hopping pot, at the bar.

if  there’s  one  thing  mary’s  known  for  at  the  hopping  pot,  it’s  for  their  bounding  creativity  and  having  the  absolute  time  of  their  life  creating  and  testing  out  all  sorts  of  drink  concoctions,  no  matter  how  they  ended  up  tasting.  not  for  the  first  time,  they  would  be  trying  out  a  new  drink  dubbed ever so special by  the  fresh  jar  of  honey  recently  gifted  by  a  neighbor.  it  called  for  special  attention  paid  to  the  drink  as  they’d  made  it,  which  came  in  the  form  of  the  garnishing  lemon  peel  lovingly  cut  into  what  they  thought  looked  like  bees.  they  were  definitely  bees,  from  one  or  two  different  angles–just  not  all  of  them,  maybe–and  in  just  the  right  light.

setting  the  tall  glass  down  in  front  of  the  patron  at  the  bar,  a  satisfied  upper  curve  of  their  lips  brightens  their  features  and  they  set  off  in  a  spiel  describing  the  drink  to  them.  “so  it’s  called  a  tequila  honey  bee,  and  i  made  the  honey  syrup  for  it  all  by  myself!  i  brought  it  with  me,  but  it  has  a  label  that  says  ‘do  not  touch  unless  your  name  is  mary,  you  fuckers’  on  it.”  maryse  was  quite  proud  of  that  one,  they  were.  “and  the  little  lemon  peels,  i  tried  cutting  into  little  bees.”  a  pause,  and  then  the  raise  of  a  brow  was  paired  with  the  slightly  more  demanding  lilt  to  their  voice,  “tell  me  they  look  like  bees.”

their  behavior  is  just  slightly  enhanced  from  their  normal  disposition,  helped  along  by  the  two  or  three  shots  taken  before  their  shift  after  a  chance  run  in  with  the  haunt  of  their  nightmares.

ft. maryse macdonald

A head tilt and a raised eyebrow was the only response Bella felt was needed as they placed the drink in front of her. An unusual sort of mixes, nothing like the luxurious selection she’d have at any other establishment but she supposed for appearances sake, it would do. “Lovely name,” She replied sarcastically, arms still crossed as she stared at the drink as if it was posioned. Though given the company that was at the Hopping Pot, it could very well be. “They look pathetic,” The brunette gestured to whatever it was Mary had seen as a bee design, “A miserable attempt really, though I can’t be surprised given where I am.” Her words were thrown along with a roll of her eyes around the bar, less than pleasant environment but she was here to make an appearance. Not to enjoy herself.

they fancy their occupation at this lovely little establishment just enough to not ruin it by CHILDISHLY sticking their fingers into the drink they've just served her to pluck their little bees from the glass, but maryse hopes that the slight narrow of their eyes and a mock of her head tilt expresses their deep desire to do so. “then why be here at all? certainly the ministry isn't forcing your hand,” mary wonders with an inkling that no one would be able to force the witch ahead of them to do anything; despite their age gap, anyone would be a fool to not recognize bellatrix black, and such familiarity with the not so noble house is enough to keep maryse from saying or doing much more. each of their movements is careful, eyes shifting to bellatrix even as they're readying another glass. “can i at least offer you something more palatable to your taste?”