#crtstarter

Blood was pounding in Marlene’s ears, despite the resting state she was in -- well, if you could call lounging across the bar with a nearly empty bottle of firewhiskey resting. She hadn’t meant to go through nearly the entire thing, had been doing a damn good job of getting sober, but it looked like that was all out the fucking window now. It was a reprieve she needed desperately, something that eased the noise in her head, all the voices that screamed rampantly with little cease. They seemed to be growing louder by the minute, no matter how much booze she downed. Maybe she was finally losing her damn mind, and going just as mad as everyone already seemed to think she was. 

It was coming up on four months since Dorcas was murdered, an anniversary that Marlene was all too bitterly aware of. The image of the woman being blasted into the air, surrounded by violent green rays of magic before collapsing as if she was nothing was burned into her brain for the rest of time. As if being tortured wasn’t fucking enough. It was all one big joke; Orion was set free in exchange for Dorcas’ life, according to Katrina Parkinson -- and yet the bastard that had spent months torturing Marlene had gotten out, an innocent being brutally killed in the process. “’S not fucking fair.” She snapped, the words biting out louder than she expected them to. The Leaky was practically empty, most of the usual patrons either having retired to their rooms upstairs or having stopped coming in altogether. War was stretching into everyone’s active lives now, impacting more than just the paranoia; Tom would have scolded her like she was an irresponsible child were he to know how much funding she was pouring into keeping the bar open for them. He was the closest thing to a parent she had anymore, she would protect him, protect his livelihood. 

Tears stung in her eyes for a moment as she rose the bottle to her lips, taking another long swig. “I loved her and now she’s dead.” They were words she’d been avoiding, not wanting to admit that war had really stolen something from her, someone that had been with her from the age of eleven. “Sometimes I really wish I’d never fuckin’ left Paris.”

Xenophilius stared at the letter in his hands. His father didn’t know he had taken it. Hell, Obadiah didn’t even know Xeno had seen it on their last trip home. But the Ministry seal was cause to draw attention, particularly when his father was acting stressed out and his mother kept worrying her lip. Obadiah wasn’t the friendliest person to have walked God’s green earth, but his mother? Debbie had never rushed him out of the house before. A quick spell had brought the spell into his hand, tucked out of sight by his leather jacket. They didn’t need to know he knew.

But he could see why they hadn’t told him. An official warning from the Ministry about use of magic in front of a muggle. Plenty of phrasing thrown in about ‘strenuous times’ calling for ‘more conscientious behavior and responsible use of magic.’ From the sound of it, it wasn’t the first letter his father had received recently either.

“He’s always use magic around her,” Xeno said, their ringed fingers picking at their lips. “Always. It’s always been in the house. And they’re married for Merlin’s sake. It’s not like she’ll tell anyone. She loves him. She loves both of us. She wouldn’t tell anyone about the wizarding world, not anyone that doesn’t already know. She’s already kept it a secret for more than two decades, even from her own family. Why- Why are they saying this? Why are they doing this now? They can’t just ... dictate who we act in our own homes.”

Date: July 29th Location: Lestrange Manor, The Engagement Party Status: Open 

Aidan scanned the crowd of the engagement party, a cocktail glass dangling between thumb and forefinger. For once they actually quite liked the company of the hour. All the best--and only the best--pureblood families had gathered for the event. This was how the world ought to be really. This was the goal they were all striving for. It would be nice if it could last more than one evening, but something would probably much it all up. There were already a few non-purebloods--Aidan had noted Gilderoy Lockheart already, but supposed with someone who’d managed to make a name for themselves like that, an exception could be made. But it was nice. Not to mention Aidan knew full well that under those fancy suits and below disguise charms were plenty of tattoos on forearms that matched their own.

Everything seemed right. Settled and peaceful. Though a bit too peaceful if you asked Aidan. There ought to be some kind of show going on or at least two people getting into some drama based fight. While Aidan believed in blood purity, they did not believe in boredom, especially if things weren’t centered around them. Peace and tranquility were massively overrated ideas that Aidan just didn’t want much to do with if they were being completely honest. It was good to see no one was fucking up this day for their little Emma, but it made it none the less disappointing.

“It’s a pretty part, but a bit on the dull side,” Aidan commented to no one in particular, speaking really to anyone who would listen. “I’m really rather tempted to cook up some fun of my own. What do you say, just a little good fun?”

I’m excited to get things going on Lily, so if you’d like a thread or to plot just favorite this and I’ll come to you!

OPEN STARTER

Among the shadows of London lurked creatures made of flesh and blood, desperate to taste something copper and foul. They whispered and dealt beneath the fullness of a silver moon, and clawed out at the innocent passersby with hideous intentions. And until a week ago, Cygnus Black had crept within their circles, content to find pain, fire, and mayhem after hours. Those sorts were his family, silent as they were, his drinking buddies and fighting partners and everything between. He lived for their distrust and distaste. His own cold face was no different than their own so they asked no questions, they just traded and drank and stumbled around. Like old friends, he often thought, or brothers. 

But now, now that he did not sleep and could not think, he didn’t return to that brotherhood of darkness. They would sniff out the weakness pouring from his clammy skin. The simple tremor of his fingertips was more than enough of a sign that he had grown old, too old, and that he was not to be feared. Bullshit. Cygnus wanted to scream into the warm night air presently. Fuck that, I’m going to burn the entirety of England to the fucking ground. And then we’ll see who is scared.

so I’m a problem and I haven’t been around, so this is me attempting to get my shit together. cassius is out here being... well he’s being cassius as usual. so there are lots of different things we could get into in future threads. like this post for a starter or for me to come plot with you. or just pop in my ims and talk to me, if you want.