#cherrybomb-witch

Always in style, indeed!

Merry Christmas Thaly! I hope yours has been a wonderful one to make up for the less than wonderful year! It’s always a great time writing with you and I’m so happy you’ve stuck with us for all this time! You are wonderful and I hope you have a good new year!

VI Quote of the Week:

For a minute or two he had tried to remain respectfully incurious, walking from one corner of the room to the other, but in the end his more troublesome side won out. There wasn’t a lot left on the shelves or inside of various cupboards but his rummaging did help the time pass at a quicker pace. He had, even, found several objects that he thought might have been precious to Lily (or someone else who used to live in the house) as they looked either handmade (like a mug obviously coloured years ago by someone with a skill level of a child), or less random like an awfully ugly mixing bowl that could have been Mrs. Evans’ favourite and a book so worn out that he couldn’t even decipher the title.                                                                  -- on-borrxwed-time, To Remember

Admin Picks of the Week:

The baby made some weird baby noise, and Daisy wrinkled her nose. The thing’s presence was a double edged sword. On the one hand, Narcissa wouldn’t be able to make quite as hasty a retreat as she might have otherwise. On her own, Daisy didn’t doubt that Narcissa would swish away or disapparate rather than talk to her, but she couldn’t do that half so easily with a baby. On the other hand, it was a baby. Ugh.                              -- perennialgrace, Afternoon Tea With a Side of Inquisition

Non-combatants.  Her thoughts strayed, entirely unbidden and undesired, to Andromeda.  Their paths had crossed more than a few times and while Narcissa had an inkling that she supported the Order, she did not seem the type to join officially - or so Narcissa chose to believe.                                                                 -- forever-toujourspur, Only Human

Evan had never been a protector. Even as a crusader, he’dbeen…well less than pure was putting it nicely. Richard had been leading a holywar. He’d been enjoying murder and mayhem. It was what had attracted his Sireand changed his life quite irrevocably. He’d certainly never complained. He liked being a vampire. Or he had.

His eyes narrowed as he watched the surveillance footagethat his security have sent him. What was the woman looking for? He had toadmit, he liked her gumption. Breaking into his home took guts. It wasn’t likethe security wasn’t advertised. Apparently eating intruders was frowned upon ifyou hadn’t warned them first. He lifted his phone, “Thank you for the heads up Tolmi. I assume you followed her?”

“Of course MasterRosier. I’ll text you the address.”

“Excellent.” He hung up and reached out to tap the mouse, zoomingin on the girl. Had she been looking for him, or something else?

It had been a while since he’d enjoyed a good mystery. Hechecked his watch, but he’d felt the sun sink beyond the horizon almost hourearlier. He’d be good to go, and he was on a mission. Smoothing a hand down theblack and silver paisley vest he’d donned after his shower, he turned toconsider the keys on his desk. No… he wasn’t in the mood to deal with his car.Besides, he wanted to catch her scent first.

The air was crisp and cool, a sign that summer was finally abandoningthis backwater country. Evan despised the heat—at least what passed for heat inLouisiana. He still wasn’t entirely certain he hadn’t stepped into a hell dimension.Who voluntarily lived in this heat for the entirety of their lives? The factthat it was hot long after the sun disappeared was not a good thing in hisbook. Shaking his head, he slipped down the steps, abandoning the verandah tomove along the carefully manicured flowerbed. He would occasionally pause,lifting his nose as he caught the fading wisps of her perfume and body sweat.

Satisfied that he’d easily be able to identify her, he tookto the sky, relishing the drop in temperature. Even in England, thetemperatures could become fairly unbearable. He was a firm believer in AirConditioning. It was worth every penny—and even at his age, he counted those.He had no intention of becoming destitute. Especially not now that vampireswere ‘rejoining the world’. He liked his creature comforts and safety.

He couldn’t say much for the address that Tomli had directedhim to. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t wonderful either. Maybe she was a thief after all. Well now it was time to return thefavor, in a manner of speaking.

Alighting on her balcony, he perched a shoulder against thedoorframe and peered into the darkened confines of what appeared to be herbedroom. Had she gone out already? He frowned, leaning closer, and was relievedto see a flicker of light and dancing shadows beneath the opposite him. Good.Contenting himself to wait, Evan turned his attention to the surrounding area.It was middle class, and as suburbia as one could get without actually being in a house, and in every window a happymeal.

Or at least that would have been the thinking once upon atime. He had to be more careful now, but in a different way. Humans had ‘rights’.They’d actually made him sign some sort of damned waiver at Fangtasia. Ugh.

The door opened inside and he immediately turned hisattention back to the occupant exiting the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Nice. He smirked faintly, enjoying theview. The woman had legs that went on forever. He folded his arms, intentionallydrawing her gaze. To his surprise, she didn’t scream, but instead dove forsomething off to the left. When she rose back into his view she was holding…was that a stake? Well this night just kept getting more and more interesting.

He tapped the glass. “Itwould be far more civilized to hold this conversation with the door open.”He pointed out dryly.

“You can’t come in,Creeper.”

His smile was all teeth. “I am aware of the rules, but since you spent the afternoon combing myestate, I couldn’t resist doing a little investigating. I’m sure youunderstand.” The stake never wavered, though she paused to shove her armsthrough a fluffy pink bathrobe. He missed her legs, but had to admit she wasrather…adorable. He tipped his head thoughtfully, more intrigued than he’d beenin ages really. He smiled when she refused to meet his gaze. Smart girl. Hestepped back from the door to make her more comfortable when she opened it, andthen couldn’t resist a soft chuckle when she snapped the screen door into placeas if to emphasize his lack of welcome.

That was fine… He had all night, and now he knew where shelived. “Since we are being civilized, myname is Evan.” He added, watching her intently. She didn’t answer, justbacked up, watching him like she expected him to crash into her room at anymoment even though she clearly knew the rules. “Right… so are you going to tell me why you felt the need to break intomy home today?”

“No.” She foldedher arms over her chest. “If you’re soclever, you tell me.”

VI Quote of the Week:

“What do you mean ‘what’s this then’?” She lowered her voice into a somewhat mocking tone, rolling her eyes. “You know what it’s about. I told you not to send those bloody name suggestions anymore. It’s hard enough picking a name without that.” It was a bit silly maybe, but she stood by that. Names were important - she had a personal theory that part of her sister’s problems stemmed from being named Petunia. It wasn’t the prettiest name. Not that she’d say that to Petunia. But with her baby, she wanted to make sure they got it right, and it just irked when people tried to turn it into a game.                                                                           -- thelionheartedxlily, Temper

Admin Picks of the Week:

No doubt a physician would approve of his decrease in whiskey consumption, but just because he’d have to be completely sober for the next while didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to resume his normal habits once he could. He figured that short of death, there was nothing stopping a Scotsman from his drink for long. His missing leg was a temporary setback. Wonder if I could get someone to smuggle something in. He briefly considered the people that might do it; the list was short, but he only needed one person.                                                                    -- head-auror-moody, For Granted

Marlene wasn’t there anymore, her mind had long fled to that Nowhere it ran whenever she went catatonic. It had only happened to her twice before; the first time she had seen her own mother fall into a similar stupor had triggered her to follow, the second time was when she had been attacked by a Dementor. It took extremely harsh emotional situation to knock her out of her mind, and having her own willpower controlled into injuring, possibly killing someone she knew and admired, what just the kind of situation to do the trick.                                                                       -- cherrybomb-witch, Misplaced

@crabbeapple​

“You be good, Gallie, especially when they cut your nails. They’re turning into real dragon claws” Marlene kissed her terrier’s wet snout with fondness, playing with his ears for a second before Kleo, her dog’s veterinarian Healer took him up the stairs to the clinic on the second floor of the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley.

After spending the weekend in Scotland with her grandparents, and having taken Galahad with her, of course, the Jack Russell was in desperate need for a full beauty salon treatment. It actually managed to surprise the blonde witch how a puppy so small could get so fucking messy and dirty. Fur all tousled and dirty, with dry mud and herbs all over his coat, dirt under his claws and even some dried blood around his snout from a bird he had caught. Galahad had been so filthy that she had not even taken him home to her apartment last night, but left him at the McKinnon Manor until she could take him to the vet the next day.

Galahad was young, barely a year old or so. And the problem with puppies like him was that they were just like little children: they hated baths. Gallie was no exception. Marlene wondered if bath predicting was included as one of the assets of the animal “sixth sense” because, swear on Merlin’s grave, her dog had been resisting her the whole way. Marlene was sure she had red marks on her arms even with her clothes between her skin and Galahad’s nails. Even so, it looked like the terrier was nowhere near done with his open rebellion against soap and water.

The vet had only covered a couple of steps when Galahad skilfully nipped at the woman’s forearm, hard enough to startle her but otherwise completely harmless, and managed to wiggle himself to freedom, taking advantage of the woman’s momentary distraction. Marlene gasped as her terrier darted down the stairs, a dirty flash of mud and hair. She launched forward to intercept him, but Galahad, quicker than she could even hope to be, slipped right under her legs and made a dash for the door with a joyous bark. Freedom was only a door away, and more wet earth to roll in awaited at the other side…

“Watch out!”

Of course, the poor dog did not count with the unexpected pair of legs that blocked his race. Galahad bumped snout-first against a wizard who had entered the shop, naturally smudging the hem of the man’s robes with his muddy coat.

“Galahad, no! Look what you’ve done, you rude little mutt!” Marlene groaned with embarrassment and rushed forward to catch her pet, handing it over to an apologetic Kleo who hurried up the stairs. This time, she held Galahad firmly so he would not find other means of escape.

Marlene rubbed her face, feeling her cheeks pinking.

[ Marlene McKinnon Aesthetics Moodboard 1/? ]

“... I Will Not Fold, She's In Control Of Everything And Everyone ... “