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Sunshower Over Hogsmeade



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Mon Jun 15, 2020 3:12 am
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SirenCymbaline says...



It’s spring, 2005. The Battle of Hogwarts was seven years ago. The world has been saved, and the community is rebuilding. Hogsmeade is bustling once again, and this time, you’re not a visiting student, you’re a part of it. Exams and Death Eaters are problems of the past. Now, you have bills.

On top of this, thanks to the fact that the entire UK has one magic school, everyone roughly in your generation sort of knows you, and might remember your embarrassing teenage phases. Now’s a great time to get to know people who were in the other houses.

How has this world grown, after the evil of the century was destroyed, and the corruptions of the old wizarding government laid bare? That’s up to you.

-----

This is a Harry Potter SB with a focus on adult characters and the slice of life genre, the tone is the cosy day-to-day life parts of Harry Potter with a touch of Ghibli.
Your character can work any sort of job in any canon or original shop or establishment. They can work at the Hog’s Head, a wacky hotel you made up, a magical vet clinic, whatever suits your character.

Please hop into the DT for info and plotting! I’d like to start off with a few links between characters so its easier to get them all talking to each other early on. It’s not necessary but it’d be cool if some of them shared workplaces.


Character sheet-

Code: Select all
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b] Early to mid 20s or up, please.
[b]Sexuality/up for love:[/b]
[b]Hogwarts house:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]


[b]Appearance:[/b]

[b]Personality:[/b]
[b][i] - Strengths:[/i][/b]
[b][i] - Weaknesses:[/i][/b]


[b]History:[/b] Was your character at the Battle of Hogwarts? Did they go back to finish school afterward? What did they do next?

[b]Where are they found?:[/b]tell us their workplace and/or favourite hangouts

[b]Magical Specialty:[/b]


Spots-

1-SirenCymbaline- Robert Griffiths

2-ScarlettFire - Aristaeus Devereux

3-EditorAndPerks - Hablex Yurav

4-JustJasper - Rain Quint

5-winterwolf0100 - Abela Jordan

6-AstralHunter - Raphael Todd-Lockwood

7-Carina - Emmaline Longiflorum
Last edited by SirenCymbaline on Mon Feb 01, 2021 12:12 am, edited 6 times in total.
Bad souls have born better sons, better souls born worse ones -St Vincent





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Sat Jul 25, 2020 8:21 am
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SirenCymbaline says...



Robert Griffiths


Pale yellow light had barely peeked its head over the cold, unholy spring morning when Robert unlocked the door of Dogweed and Deathcap. It wouldn’t be opening time for hours and hours. Typically he showed up only as early as was required, but today, the choice was not his. Today he had been possessed by the vengeful spirit of spring cleaning.

Robert had woken up, and without even seeing it, felt a sudden jolt of productive hatred at the thought of all the outdated catalogs and records of orders stuffing the nooks and crannies to suffocation, uselessly clogging up the back room as though they had a right to continue existing in this world (even though he had willfully ignored them for years up to this point.) No more. It was time for them to meet their end.

He hung up his scarf, threw on a mixtape, and let loose.

Spoiler! :
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...Alright, so the back room wasn’t quite as abandoned as Robert remembered it being.
Abela had recently pushed back the worst offenders among the clutter, leaving the stragglers to flee into the deeper recesses of storage. They would not escape his discerning eye.

Instead, they ended up in sorting piles on the floor. Temporarily.

Robert's productive spirit had left his body at this point. When he heard Abela calling him from out front a few hours later, he was only grateful for the save.

“Ughhh. Rob, the thing,” Abela called from out front.

Robert jumped out and closed the Staff Only door behind him.

“Hi Abela, what’s up?” he said, with the nonchalance of someone who did not care if Abela were to see behind that door.

Thankfully, Abela was too incensed to pick up on anything. She was covered in various pollens of violent vibrancy, and sneezing with equal violence.

“The stupid- HECHOO!...f*ck... Heffytreckles, sprayed pollen all over the damn place, I just breathed vaguely near it, but it- HECHOO...f*ck! and it got all over the- it got the ‘effin Treppernacker sapling all worked up, and now it’s spraying… something… how do I make the bastard stop?”

Robert adjusted his glasses pompously.

“Oh yes, the Heffinitis Trekaleneceres typically blooms in early spring, and the Treperinafericus, a distant cross-species cousin, becomes confused by the genetic similarity, and-”

“I don’t care why,” interrupted Abela, “Just tell me how to make the bloody thing stop.”

Robert took the hint, in theory, but showed no sign of internalisation.

“Move them, for starters. But we have to keep the Heffytreckle away from the Leaping Toadstools, as well, or-” Robert stopped, and frowned. He noticed the trickle of snot that trailed from Abela’s nose. More importantly, he noticed there were seeds in it.

“Actually, I’ll take care of it.” Robert rushed. “You go take some pyrethrum quickly, before you start blooming.” He opened the Staff Only door behind him, and pushed her in, her curls bouncing furiously behind her.

“Blooming- If I start blooming I’m flushing that feckin’ plant down the- hey, did you mess up the- HECHOO!”

Robert closed the door. She knew where the pyrethrum was. She’d be fine.
__
Spoiler! :
phpBB [media]



“Do you have any Lethean Waterlilies?” asked the first customer of the day. A middle aged witch, vaguely visible under a hat, thick glasses, and a thicker pile of scarves.

Robert adjusted his glasses as though had been waiting all week for somebody to ask him that question. Not because he had, of course.

“I'd love to stock them, but they've been hard to find since they were banned in the 1870s when it was discovered that the extracts-”

“Oh yes, I know.” said the witch. “The extract can cause long-term memory loss.”

“It gets better.” said Robert, cheerfully. “A poisoned victim not only loses their own memories, but their touch has a similar affect on those around them, for so long as it remains in their bloodstream. It caused a catastrophic incident in national security when-”

"Shut up, recommend her something else," Abela droned from the counter, not looking up from the labels she was cutting.

“But we do have Mnemosyne Waterlilies," said Robert, returning to Earth. "Similarly beautiful, but, you know, legal.”

(Technically, Lethean Waterlilies were also legal, as the ban had expired several governments ago and never been revisited, but he spared her this fact as well.)

“The yellow sheen is pretty,” admitted the witch. “...But is the Lethean Waterlily really still illegal, three centuries later?”

Robert’s eyes sparkled. His voice remained casually professional.

“The ban expired several governments ago and the matter was never revisited, so as long as you don’t take it back in time anywhere, and don’t start any petitions to get it banned again, you could get away with it. Not that we at Dogwood and Deathcap promote loopholes or the usage of plants for evil purposes.

But we don’t have it here, so how do you like that Mnemosyne?”

The witch looked again at the waterlily. The gold lustre reflected loftily in the thick lenses of her horn-rimmed glasses.

“I’ll take it.” she said. “Maybe I can cross-breed from it…”

“I wouldn't recommend that,” said Robert cheerfully, “Enjoy!”

Then he got to go over all the needy specificities of this fastidiously fussy specimen, and that alone had a good chance at being the highlight of his day. Until Nes showed up later.

Robert liked Nes. Nes had questions.

___


Alas, they made it only maybe half an hour into the 'how's your family' and 'wait I think I was supposed to ask you something' Classic Detective Nes Routine before Abela stormed out of the Staff Only door.

She stomped up to Robert, stopped, relaxed only for a brief "Hey how are ya" to Nes, and then hissed "Wehaveaf*ckingsituationintheback," in Robert's ear.

"What," he said blankly.

"There's a Venemous Tentacula in the wall behind the goddamn rubbish piles you left on the floor." Abela punctuated furiously.

"Oh." said Robert. "Haha. Okay. I'll deal with it. Hang on. Yeah, I'll deal with it, you take care of the shop." He looked back to Nes.

"Hey, sorry I couldn't help, but we'll see if I remember something later- what was your question again-?"

"Move." Abela shoved him in the direction of the Staff Only door.

"Yep. Going." said Robert.
Bad souls have born better sons, better souls born worse ones -St Vincent





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ScarlettFire says...



Aristaeus Devereux


There was just so much clutter in his storeroom. It really needed to be sorted through, which was how Ari had ended up elbow-deep in boxes of junk and whatnot in his home's attic, where most of his junk was stored. Including overflow from the clinic, which was all sorts of expired. Hence the cleaning out.

He was just about to pull out yet another box to join his growing collection when he felt his wards flare and there was a whoosh and a thumping noise downstairs. Ari's head jerked up, right into the slanted wooden beam of his attic. He muttered a curse and shuffled towards the ladder that led downstairs, rubbing his aching head. That had hurt, and whoever it was that had decided to drop in on him via floo unannounced was going to get a scolding.

But Merlin, he missed his friends and his missed school. You know, before it all went Dark Lord and whatnot. And damnit, he missed Robert. What was his best friend doing lately? He should probably stop by and check... He sighed and finally made it downstairs to his sitting room only to stop short. Ari was not expecting his sister to be standing in his sitting room by the fireplace with two full bags and muggle mobilephone. Nor was he expecting her to show up in his home, seven months pregnant.

What. The. Hell.

"Sammy?" he asked, confused and wary. She glanced up and smiled. "Sammy, what're you doing here? And...like that...?"

"Oh, hi, Ari!" She cleared her throat and tucked the phone away into one of the many pockets in her dress. "Uh...sorry to drop in unannounced--"

He just sighed and cut her off. "What did you do this time?"?"

Oh, you mean this?" she asked and patted her belly. "Or this?" And she pulled the phone out of her pocket again, waggling it about. "Or that I'm here, in your house?"

Ari spluttered for a moment, eyes widening. "A-all three?"

Samy quirked a grin at him. "Well, then, that's a long story..."

He stood frozen as she strode over to him and pulled him into a quick hug, still muttering away in his ear, but he was having trouble focusing. His breathing was picking up and he was struggling to focus past the sudden roaring in his ears. Shit, he was having a panic attack! Ugh, why did it have to be now? Of all times? When he finally saw his sister again after her trial?!

Finally, she pulled away and frowned at him. "Oh, shit, sorry!"

Sam guided him into the nearest seat and had him lean forward to put his head between his knees. Merlin's beard, he was a mess! It must have something to do with her damned Death Eater tattoo. It was magical, sure, but still a tattoo and he knew she'd been living in the muggle world for a while...

"Easy, bro, easy," Same murmured, crouching in front of him, one hand resting on his shoulder. "Just slow, deep breaths... Yeah, like that."

She guided him through some breathing exercises and though it took a few minutes, he was finally calm enough to have a proper conversation with her. He did have to wonder why she was there, and why she came to him if she'd been so content in the muggle world. He squinted at her as she straightened up with a soft oof, one hand on her lower back.

"Did you...floo here?" he asked, frowning at her. "At...wait, how far along are you?"

"Seven months," she said, grinning. "And yes."

"You should not be travelling like that!" he exclaimed, concerned and surprised. "Not that far along! Are you insane?"

"No!" Sam pouted and walked off a few paces, sighing. She crossed her arms defensively and glanced back at him. "It's not like I had a choice, Ari. I had no where else to go."

He sent her a disapproving look and leaned back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. Merlin, he didn't have a room ready! And he certainly didn't have enough food in the kitchen and he refused to hire a house elf. He'd grown up with one and it had been a sour-faced little thing that kept putting needles in his bed. He'd never figured out why, but he'd certainly not appreciated that. Besides, wizards and witches relied far too heavily on magic and magical creatures. Sometimes, one had to do things for himself--which is why he'd taught himself how to cook. Sort of. Either way, he didn't have enough for himself, let alone three!

"I have to go out," he muttered, more to himself than to his sister.

"What?"

Ari heaved a sigh and looked up. "I need to go shopping," he explained and pushed himself onto his feet. "My pantry's a little bare at the moment... Is there anything in particular you'd like?"

"Oh, uh...pickles? And gravy?" She flushed, ducking her head in apparent embarassment. "And cream cheese?"

He blinked at her, sighed deeply and then went to find his wallet. "Alright, then."

~ ~ ~


The main street of Hogsmeade was surprisingly quiet as Ari wandered down it, lost in thought. He really ought to catch up with Robert at some point and have drinks or something. Anything as an excuse to be near him. Ari sighed and turned a corner, colliding with someone and stumbling into the wall.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Ow-I mean, pfft, don't worry about it." came the friendly, laidback voice. A too-familiar voice.

It was Robert, customarily unflappable, but peppered with plasters across his wrists, neck, and face. More plasters were implied underneath his coat sleeves. If anything, his calmness was making it look more obvious.

He flashed a smile, and pulled Ari into a quick hug. "Ari, it's been forever, how're you doing?"

Ari blinked, automatically hugging back. "Rob... I, uh... I'm good, I think?"

Shit. Shit. That was not someone he wanted to see directly after a panic attack and he was decidedly not good. He just hoped that Robert didn't pick up on it. Ari grimaced and then pulled back, making a disgruntled face.

"I have an unannounced visitor," he hedged, glancing around. There was hardly anyone else on the street, so he cleared his throat. "Decided to do some shopping. You?"

Robert frowned for a moment. Like he felt Ari's unease. Mercifully, he must have decided that addressing it wasn't the best way to help him at the moment, because he just smiled again, and said, "Ha, I'm just picking up a couple things on the way home. No rush. But who is it? Who would drop in on you like that, and get away with it?"

Then he spared Ari a vexingly knowing eyebrow tilt, but alas, it was still there in his voice.

Ari swallowed and glanced away. "It'smysister," he said all in a rush. Gods, why did Rob always have this effect on him? He couldn't keep his mouth shut around this man if he wanted to. Well, about everything but his feelings for Rob... "She showed up, and just. I don't know, Robbie, I don't know."

Despite having possibly guessed correctly, Robbie was surprised by the confirmation nonetheless. Did I call him that out loud? Whatever, he'll forget anyway! Hopefully... Maybe... Ari tried to stall the spiralling thoughts and focused on his best friend again.

Robbie replied, "Christ, I haven't seen Sammy since--a while...have you?" He was definitely surprised. He was usually better at saves than this.

"Graduation? The trial?" Ari suggested, frowning. "I forget which one you attended last... But yeah, she's here... And she's pregnant." He makes a face and shifts uncomfortably. "I don't know when or who...but I think she might've shacked up with a muggle? She has a muggle cell phone, Robert. A cell phone! I don't think it even...works out here!"

His best only friend blanked for a moment. Then he nodded slowly."Huh. No, that, that sort of makes sense." He nodded again, almost to himself. "That she'd want to try something... new. I hope she went somewhere nice, like Bath, or Bristol..."

"I dunno, Robbie... She never said," Ari muttered, a little darkly. He was endlessly frustated with his sister, but at least he knew she was safe now. He groaned. "Merlin, my sister is going to give me a heartattack before we're thirty!"

Rob looked at him encouragingly. "I think Sammy can handle anything. And so can you. Just call me over if you need a hand, a'right? Anytime." After a moment, he added, "I'm not doing anything important," in a very casual way.

He frowned at him, head tilting to the side. "Um, thanks...I guess...?" He trailed off into silence and stared blankly at the frankly ridiculous amount of plasters all over Robbie. He gestured at his best friend vaguely, squinting at him. "Uh, what's with...all that?"

Ari suddenly felt like one of their professors from the old days because the sheepish, juvenile look that Robert gave him now was the exact same one he'd given to Snape whenever he'd melted through one of his cauldrons. He sighed.

"Would you believe me if..." Robert began, then apparently thought better of it and sighed. "I forgot about a Chizpurfle infestation, and it turned into a Venemous Tentacula infestation and that's gone now but the good news is, those leaves are worth 10 galleons apiece. Unless inflation's changed that... I need to check..."

He always knew Robert was a rambler and he was definitely trying to distract him now. He couldn't even stay made at him for it, and he definitely didn't mind the distraction. Ari blinked once, twice and then snorted out an awkward laughing noise.

"I'm sorry, there was a what infestation?"

Robert gave up. "Venemous Tentacula. I took a--."

"Rob..." Ari said, trying to interupt. Rob kept talking, so he tried again. "Robert... Robbie! Why didn't you come get me?"

There it was again. The same sheepish grin, but leagues stupider. It vanished quickly.

"Well, that's what I would have done, if I had more sense, and didn't keep an extensive antidote cabinet around, and didn't pass all the same subjects as you, and didn't... Didn't think you were..."

The fire in his protest had run dry. He thought better of saying it, but Ari understood. If I didn't think you'd be busy.]

"I thought I knew what I was doing and I'm not dead, let's leave it at that."

Ari frowned and then sighed, moving to tug Robert into a hug. "I'm sorry," he muttered into Rob's shoulder. "I, uh...keep forgetting that? I'm just glad you're safe, Robbie..."

Rob hugged back, tight. "Sorry for what, caring? Don't worry about it." He pulled back, and smiled warmly. There was something distant, nostalgic in those deep brown eyes. "Robbie. That's what my mum calls me."

He blinked, frowning at him. "I, wait... Sorry, what?"

"Nothing," said Rob. "Say hello to your sister for me, okay?"

And like that, he was gone.

Ari stared after him and sighed. "Yeah, okay..."

With that, he turned and headed for the store. Sammy wanted her pickles and gravy and cream cheese, and he intended to get it for her. That, and some more groceries because there was no way she wasn't going to eat him out of house and home.
"With friends like you, who needs a medical license?" - Paimon, Aether's Heart


“It's easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.” - Grace Hopper.





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Fri Sep 04, 2020 11:57 pm
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keystrings says...



Hablex Yurav


Hablex clutched their package close to their stomach, sighing with every step that led them away from their flat.

They made an ill-reasoned bet with their best friend (who was actually them in the mirror because they were rather drunk last night) that in the morning they would donate some of their books to one of the bookstores they spent far too long at.

Today's choice was going to Whizz Hard Books, mostly because they hadn't been there for a week, and wanted to see if there were any other things that caught their eye. To make up for the dozen or so stories that they were giving away.

Hablex wiped away a tear a few feet from the store. With a heavy heart, they opened the door, and heard a quiet greeting from the clerk, whose dark hair had a new blue streak through it.

"Ah, welcome back." Their name-tag read as Percival, but everyone and their grandmother called them Ival for some reason.

Hablex waved their fingers in a sporadic fashion, and decided to finally say the cursed words: "I would like to donate these books."

"What?" Ival gasped at them, their brown eyes widening. "But, you hold the record for the most books being due past date and then having to pay for the copy because it was so overdue!"

They tried to hold back a blush, and pushed up their glasses to break eye contact. Hablex had not known whether to sob or laugh when they received a bill exceeding a thousand pounds at the end of the year. 2003 had not been their proudest moment.

But anyway, that was in the past and they needed a change in their life. Nothing in their mind told them that getting rid of books was a good thing, but they had clicked on a couple dozen advice websites that all discussed spring cleaning and contributing to someone else, so here they were.

"Yes." Hablex could only manage a single word.

Ival blinked some more before reaching for the package. "Alright, I guess."

A better wording would be that they attempted to reach for the package. For some reason, it wouldn't move out of Hablex's arms.

Oh. That was probably because Hablex held a rather tight grip on their belongings and had subconsciously decided to hold on the box forever. They carefully unclenched their fingers, one by one, until it laid flat in Ival's hands.

"Ah, thank you," they said, peeking at Hablex and then peeling back the tape. "Wow, these are some great books to donate!"

Hablex tried for a smile. Judging by the stricken expression Ival wore, it wasn't a grand attempt.

Brilliant. This whole scenario was just brilliant.

In fact, it was so brilliant, Hablex was going to walk out of the store now because they didn't have the strength to watch Ival scan their books in, knowing that someone else would put their grubby, dirty, unworthy little limbs all over them.

Their heart still hurt. Curse their drunk person who decided to involve themself with something they never would have entertained in an earlier time.

Well, at least they could go to their other favorite spot, Magical Menagerie, even if they weren't working today.

Hablex closed their eyes thinking about those rather adorable, little Nifflers, and the fact that they never failed to steal anything they were interested in. One in particular liked to climb into their lap and look at them with his big eyes until they gave him something.

They sniffed once into a random tissue, then walked over to the other storefront, which then announced they were closed. Of course.

Well, they technically still held a key, so their boss wouldn't mind too much, would they?

Hablex was trustworthy after all, and they first started working here years. Plus, meeting the animals was basically their only way to get rid of some of their stress. With that idea in their mind, they pulled out their key and tried to quietly open the front door.

The inside of Magical Menagerie was a lot different than it had been just a few years ago, with many cages that looked to be holding creatures instead of giving them a temporary home like an animal shelter.

Rather, this stood as a careful blend of having creatures ready for adoption, rehabilitating animals that couldn't be adopted, and selling any objects necessary for the care of those mentioned creatures.

Many, many cats crawled over some of the furniture, all designed to withstand the digging in from their claws, while more of the mischievous creatures stayed in wider, more comfortables areas.

Hablex waved hello to everyone, some responding in their own way of speaking, others ignoring them because they weren't there to feed them.

Eh, relatable. If they didn't have to make money, they wouldn't mind being waited on by another person and only having to signal when they were hungry or not.

But with that, Hablex sat back on the couch and decided to practice some of the wordless spells they had been having trouble with. There was no time like the present, right?
name: key/string/perks
pronouns: she/her/hers and they/them/theirs


novel: the clocktower (camp nano apr 24)
poetry: the beauty of the untold (napo 2024)





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Carina says...



Emmaline Longiflorum


Emma had never been a morning person. She had attended gardening seminars and had heard the phrase "the early bird gets the worm!" so many times, but she never understood why. Why couldn't the bird get the worm at night while it was sleeping? Or check the weather and get them when it was raining outside? Stupid worms. Stupid birds.

These grumpy thoughts crossed Emma's mind as she laid in her bed with a thick duvet wrapped around her. Only her head and fingers were exposed to the chilly room, and she faced the only source of light in the dark room: a Nintendo DS at its maximum brightness capcity, with gentle calm music playing as she farmed and socialized with fictional people in the recent Harvest Moon game she bought a week ago. Even though she has a flower shop and keeps up with daily gardening, she found great satisfaction in virtual farming.

She sighed and looked up at her alarm lock. 06:23AM. Maybe she'll do two more minutes of farming some strawberries and petting her cat, and then maybe she'll dial up her computer and add a song in her Myspace profile that no one ever visits, or maybe read what's going on in London...

Oh wait! Cat!

Emma sat up straight. She promised Hablex she would visit them at Magical Menagerie this week and possibly adopt a kitty. She knew the store was overflowing with cats waiting to be adopted, and, well... she could use a companion.

Smiling, Emma saved and shut down her game, gingerly placing it on the nearby nightstand next to her Game Boy Advance and tower of games. "Okay, let's do this," she mumbled out loud, throwing the duvet off her and swinging her legs over the bed, feeling the chills of the cold floor travel up her feet like electricity.

────────── ⋆⋅ ✿ ⋅⋆ ──────────

It was quite a walk from her flat (flats available with internet and cell service come in few numbers here in Hogsmeade), and it took some time to wheel in some fresh-cut flowers from the green house, but it was 08:00AM exactly when Emma unlocked the doors at Pots & Lilies. She used to be open for business at 8AM, but customers hardly ever come in the first hour, so instead she shifted her hours to 10AM-6PM. Still, it was not uncommon for people to come in for the dispensary later in the evening, so she often stayed in the store even longer for a combination of chats and business. Despite now being open two hours later, she still comes to the store at 8AM out of habit, but she uses the two hours to prep and deliver orders. Madam Rosmerta often lectured her about the importance of being on time and presentable, and she'd probably be proud of her for sticking to this habit.

Emma washed her dirtied hands from digging into the garden and then put on a clean work apron with the Pots & Lilies logo on it. The initial gardening part is over, and now it was time time to move on to the presentation: bouquets.

────────── ⋆⋅ ✿ ⋅⋆ ──────────

"Thanks for your business!" Emma said before getting the door slammed on her face. She sighed, knowing that she was still not exactly accepted throughout the town, but it wasn't her fault that there weren't any competitors for normal "muggle flowers." Oh well, some customers may not like her, but at least she was still getting paid.

She crossed the last delivery order off on her list, wiping the sweat away from her forehead. Her delivery "vehicle" was a big bike dolly, and it may not be as efficient as magically trained owls, but it does its job. There were two bouquets on the dolly left to deliver, but the flowers looked more random and less fresh. But no fear: these were leftover flowers from several days ago that no one bought, so they were being gifted.

Emma looked closer at her list:

    Free — Hablex for cat
    Free — Abela just because

Hablex told her that they would waive the adoption fees if she adopted a cat from the Magical Menagerie, and although she smiled and appreciated the gesture, she's been considering it everyday since she had been going back to give the little kitties some love and affection every so often. There was something alluring about these cats—a common creature in the muggle world—stuck in a place marketed as a magical creature store, and not being adopted because of it, and so the store overfills with cats because no one wants to adopt them and give them love... It felt a little close to home and Emma just felt like she had to help out, even if it was just one cat being saved.

The kitty may chew on all her plants, but it'll be worth it if it means that it doesn't have to suffer another day of being alone, wondering if anyone will ever come to adopt them.

She thought she remembered Hablex saying they worked this morning, so visiting them first would be better. That worked out anyways since Abela is always grumpy in the morning working at Dogweed and Deathcap, and Emma would rather she at least somewhat appreciate her surprise visit.

After taking a swig of cold water from her bottle, Emma rode down the street towards the Magical Menagerie.

────────── ⋆⋅ ✿ ⋅⋆ ──────────

Closed?

Hmm, she thought Hablex said they were working today. Awkwardly still holding the bouquet, Emma knocked on the door and waited for a solid minute. She was about to turn around sad that she didn't get to surprise her friend, but to her surprise, the door opened.

"Oh, hi Em," a voice said.

"Hablex!" Emma exclaimed, swiveling around and nearly thrusting the bouquet to their arms. "Oh, umm... surprise?"

So much for trying to be spontaneous today...

"For me? Thank you." Hablex smiled and graciously accepted the bouquet, giving it a sniff. "Smells really nice. This is perfect for the animals."

Something that Emma finds really amusing with Hablex is that they don't seem to care about the frivolous things in life, and also find the squabbles with the Wizarding World so trivial. See, most people buy her flowers because they're pretty and nice to look at, but Hablex seems to enjoy the smell and functionality of flowers. She once caught them feeding the animals the leftover wilted flowers, and some people may find that rude, but Emma finds it rather peaceful and comforting.

"It has a bit of everything in it, but I put some of your favorites in there," she said. "Roses, lilies, dahlias, daisies, baby's breath, and even some fiddlehead fern..." As she was listing the flowers, she peered over their shoulder and into the store.

"The cats will love it," Hablex said. They paused. "Do... you want to come in?"

"Oh!" She started fidgeting with her hands, not knowing what to with them now that they weren't carrying flowers. "It's just... well, I wanted to see... and you know, get to know... some of the cats? I-It's just... I got excited..." She trailed off, lost for words. Honestly, she just wanted to pet some cats and see which one liked her the best and then adopt that sweetie on the spot.

Hablex smiled. "The cats would love that. Come," they said, stepping aside to let her in. "Come in."
chaotic lazy
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Thu Nov 05, 2020 9:59 pm
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winterwolf0100 says...



Abela Jordan


Abela hated this time of year. Springtime was when people expected you to act the cheeriest, and from Abela’s experience, they also seemed to get more agitated when you didn’t act exactly as they thought you would. Sunshine, flowers, life, that was great and all, but if it meant enduring the lazy bees that constantly seemed to want to circle Abela’s head, the continuous assault of pollen on her senses, or Robert’s excessive chattiness (Abela had discovered he was like the sun-- in the spring, he grew out of his winter weariness back into his bright, happy, annoying self, talking for longer periods of time)? Abela would choose fall and winter every time to avoid any one of those things. Not that she had any choice in the matter though, because if she did, she wouldn’t currently be fighting off all three.

“Do you think if we constantly played sad opera music by the Alihotsy trees, then when someone ate one of the leaves, it would cause uncontrollable crying instead of laughter?” Robert pondered aloud. Abela, as usual, ignored him. It was the best way to not egg him on in his conversation. They were in the greenhouse owned by Dogweed and Deathcap, but not at the main location in Hogsmeade. Abela, for whatever stupid reason, had, a month earlier, agreed to help him with the spring cleaning of the greenhouse if he had promised to drop the subject of “What if a mandrake was mute? Could it still kill someone?” She was seriously beginning to regret agreeing to this. They had let this place go far too long without cleaning it, mostly because it was usually out of sight, out of mind for her. There were several bee hives that had somehow gotten inside the greenhouse, so the buzzing around her head was consistent, and she kept having to stop what she was doing to sneeze. Weeds, muggle and magical, had begun to creep up around and encircle the Wiggentree saplings, and it was tedious work, especially when she had to listen to Robert’s music and hear him talk about hypothetical plant situations.

“On the other hand, if we played recordings of comedians for the trees, maybe the effects would last longer!”

“Or maybe-- this is just a thought, so feel free to disagree-- they’re just f*cking trees,” Abela quipped, swatting away a bee that tried to land in her curly hair. It flew away, going towards an open flower before buzzing out of its grasp as the flower shut in an attempt to capture the bee.

Robert simpered and said, “Abela, nothing is ever ‘just’ anything. Trees try to fulfill their purposes in life just like we all do, and in any path to success there is a possibility of failure. If we can be thrown off track and set on a different path, why can’t trees?”

Abela blinked. Was that an intelligent comment-- from Robert? “Now, would you rather talk about ground plants then?”

Abela opened her mouth to respond that actually, she’d rather not talk at all, but when she began to speak, he talked over her. “Fluxweed…” he began to ramble. “When picked on a full moon, it can have healing properties that are used for polyjuice potion. Do you think if it was picked on a solar eclipse, it could be used as a poison?”

Abela sighed in exasperation. She couldn’t take any more of this. “I have no idea, Robert,” she snapped. “You know what? I think this is enough plant work for today. Let’s pick this back up tomorrow or something.” She sneezed as she stood up, shaking her legs out to get a feeling back into them after being crouched for so long.

“But wait, you have to help me with the snargaluffs! Come on, you know it takes two people.”

Abela was absolutely not in the mood to deal with tentacled logs who liked to poke people, but she knew Robert loved an argument, and she wasn’t about to give him one. “Isn’t tonight trivia night at Hog’s Head or something? You should get going or you’ll miss it.”

Robert turned to look at her, absent-mindedly pushing his glasses back up his nose as he stared at her in confusion. “Trivia starts at eight.”

“So?”

Robert looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“You’ll get there early then,” Abela said firmly, grabbing her bag and walking towards the door of the greenhouse.

Robert sighed and followed after her. “We could get this spring cleaning over now if we just spent an extra hour or two--”

Abela cut him off. “I doubt we can even finish this ‘spring cleaning’ by the end of spring, let alone in two hours. I’m tired of listening to your sappy music--”

“Was that a tree pun?” Robert interrupted, his mouth beginning to open into a smile.

“It was not,” Abela said shortly.

“And here I thought you didn’t like trees. But now I see that’s not true. You’re all bark and no bite.” He beamed from ear to ear at his own joke, but all Abela could do was narrow her eyes. She opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again.

“I have nothing to say to you,” she decided. She turned and started walking away.

“What? Was it too acorny?” He called after her. She didn’t respond, but once she knew she was out of sight, a small smile crossed her face.

“Actually,” she muttered as she walked down the path towards Hogsmeade, “it was pretty good qualitree.”

~~~~~~~~~~▽▲▽~~~~~~~~~~


Abela walked up to the steps to her apartment, pulling out a set of keys from her bag and shifting through them to find the correct one. She paused, looking down at the welcome mat to see a bundle of flowers on her. She bent down, picking them up. Abela wasn’t very fond of magical plants, but these were muggle flowers, a chaotic and pretty assortment. She pulled a folded piece of paper out of the flowers and opened it.

Hey Abela!

I couldn’t find you, so I hope it’s fine that I leave this here. There were extra flowers at the shop this week, and I thought you can have some to brighten up your day.

--Emma


It was written in Emma’s scrawled cursive, with a little smiley face at the end. Abela allowed herself a small smile, putting the card back and gingerly holding the flowers as she opened the apartment door, walking in and shutting it behind her. She sighed and dropped her bag and keys on the table by the door as soon as she got in, then called out, “Lee?” As she expected, there was no answer. Her brother had been working late the past few weeks with Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes since Charlie, who had been helping out for a while, recently went back to Romania.

She walked into the kitchen, considering making something, but realized it sounded like too much effort. Maybe she could stop by the shop to see Lee and go get some dinner with him? Then again, social interaction sounded so draining after a day of Robert. She opened the fridge, taking out an apple and biting into it as she walked to her room to grab a jacket.

Once she had tugged one on, she held the apple in her teeth, picked up the flowers and keys, and walked out the door, locking it behind her. She made her way off their street and up the small path that led to the look-over of the Shrieking Shack.

Abela sat down on a large rock, holding the flowers in one hand limply, looking out at the horizon. A strand of her curly hair fell across her face and she lifted a hand to push it back behind her ear. She pulled the card out of the flowers and read it again, a little frown on her face as she tried to puzzle out if there was some hidden message. Emma was sweet and pretty, and she always seemed to be especially nice to Abela, but Abela could never tell if Emma was trying to subtly show she was queer or if she was just trying to be nice. Not an amazing situation for anyone, but for a socially awkward and un-trusting queer woman like Abela, it was particularly frustrating to not be able to interpret the signals.

She sat there for maybe a half hour, thinking, before her anger finally rose and she stood abruptly, walking to the small fence that kept people from tumbling over the side of the hill. She considered throwing the flowers as hard as she could, yelling at the universe to, “f*ck off and stop playing mind games on me!”. She would rather have an infinite number of ‘no’s than the smallest amount of ‘maybe’s. She stopped herself before she could bring herself to throw the flowers though; they were pretty, and it seemed unfair. After all, it wasn’t Emma’s fault that Abela was bad at social cues. Emma was trying to be nice, and Abela couldn’t exactly hold her at fault for it.

Instead, she let out a deep breath and started walking back to her apartment, allowing herself to calm down in the cool quiet of a spring evening. Those stresses could wait for another day. It had taken her long enough to sort out the mess that was her gender identity. She was not about to start trying to untangle her orientation too. Besides, no one would want someone like her, so closed off and stubborn and grumpy all the time. Who would have the patience to unbox all that stuff? Abela felt like an attic, stuffed full of random junk, and she felt like the person who the universe thought was supposed to spend hours of their spring cleaning time fixing her had deserted her, leaving her abandoned like Abela had done to the snargaluffs earlier that day.

Abela wondered if Robert was at Hogs Head, currently engaged in a ferocious trivia argument. Abela wondered if Emma would be there too. Was it even eight yet? She could never tell in the spring; the sun seemed to take its own time setting beyond the horizon, and the winter always left her disoriented, unable to quite make out what time it actually was. For a brief moment, she even wondered what it would be like to be at a trivia night like that; loud, for sure, and definitely busy and packed. Abela would hate it there. Still…

When Abela arrived home, she put the flowers in a vase, then went again to the kitchen, as if expecting there to magically be food already prepared. As usual, there was not. Hogs Head had some good food sometimes… Abela sighed, unable to quite believe herself. She grabbed her jacket, which she had just hung on the hook, and walked out the door. She told herself she was going because of the food, that she would sit in a back booth and have no human interaction whatsoever-- the way she liked it. That was what she told herself.

But her mind was on the flowers.
he/she/they


winter you are an adorable bean and I love your bad social awareness xD ~Omni
omni played robin hood, stole winter's brain cell ~Silver
winter is the only person who would survive the machine uprising ~Europa





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Fri Nov 20, 2020 9:12 pm
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SirenCymbaline says...



Robert Griffiths


Jesus, I was so damn obvious.

Robert went home, accomplished little, and went to bed.

So, so obvious.

He went to work.

Why did I have to get so bloody defensive about the stupid Tentacula thing? That was just mean. Now Ari knows I'm in love with him and thinks I have a complex

Robert met Abela at the greenhouse, and had a pleasant afternoon driving her up the wall with puns and hypotheticals.

Call me over anytime? I'm not doing anything important? That's not what friends say you idiot that's what girls say when they're laying it on thick, Jesus you laid it on thick

Before he knew it, Abela was already gone. Some funny little instinct in the back of Robert's head urged him to call her back, or follow her like a stubborn child.
Instead he watched her turn into a sunlit silhouette and vanish entirely.

It was adorable, how much she needed his company.

___

The Hog’s Head, though historically rickety, and on the dingy side, had earned an influx of new patrons after its public service as a safe haven in the Second Wizarding War. This encouraged the pub to expand the premises a little, add a few more tables, and mop the floor every once in a while, though the dedicated curmudgeon would be pleased to know that the overall ramshackle charm was hardly compromised.

There was Robert and his fellow whippersnapper start-ups, speckled among the veterans and fitting among them a bit too well. One could say this patronage was their way of paying respects, or reliving glory. Or one could say that they wandered back to the Hog’s Head like lost children who’d forgotten where they were going, and routinely defaulted back to the familiar. As a rule Robert ignored this question entirely.

He planted both elbows on the table with a gentle thud, and clasped his hands together academically.

"So, you're turned into a flock of birds, right, with the bird transfiguration spell, say one of the birds goes missing before you get turned back- do you lose something tangible, like a foot, or something metaphysical, like your preference in types of percussion, or your opinion on bagpipes?"

Nes turned their head up from a motorcycling magazine. "Wait, sorry, has the trivia started yet?"

"...Well, no," said Robert, "But consider."

Nes considered.

"I think you'd lose a foot, or a kidney maybe."

Robert nodded. "Sensible. I prefer intangible because it sounds more fun, but both ideas are about as good as each other- for now let's go with tangible, because either way there's still the question of-"

“What dictates what parts are lost, how are they allocated?” Nes asked unassumingly.

Robert leaned forward, interested. “That’s not what I was thinking of, but keep talking.”

“Prolly, a hivemind sorta business?” said Nes, now invested. “And like with splinching, I’d say the loss is randomised, but I bet at least the size of the flock is subject roughly to body mass-”

With a willing participant in hand, the subject derailed quickly, becoming a whirlpool that drew in the occasional take from several adjacent tables.

"What happens if somebody-" Nes began,

"-If there's two people turned into birds at the same time-” continued a grizzled witch to the table right,

-"And they accidentally switch one bird-" mused a crochety wizard from table left-

"Could they end up with each other's spleens?" concluded Robert, eyes gleaming.

A new contender cut in flatly from the table behind.
"It's basically like splinching, so I think you'd just end up with somebody else's' femur in your chest."

Robert frowned. "But that's not as interesting."

Nes shrugged. “Makes sense? But if it was intangible, though, I know we settled on tangible before, but I’d love to know what the intangible equivalent of splinching could even- Oh!”

Nes stopped, and waved joyfully at somebody in the corner.

Robert looked up from his meditations to see who it was. It was Abela! His begrudging but quietly grateful friend, employee, and compatriot in the fascinating world of plants!

“Abela!” he called out, already stealing her a chair from another table.

The atmosphere was perfect. Nes was here, and Abela was here. The actual trivia was going to take place in a few more minutes. The night was young, and boundless.

And then the beers arrived, and some of them were mildly remniscient of the colour of Ari’s eyes.

Jesus, I was so damn obvious.
Bad souls have born better sons, better souls born worse ones -St Vincent





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JustJasper says...



Rain Quint


The blanket draped across Rain was warm and the thought of moving seemed regrettable even after Gizmo started licking her. The fluffy orange cat was hungry and she knew she needed to get up soon. She reached out her arm to pet him resting her elbow on the ground.

The ground?

She must have fallen asleep studying. Without opening her eyes she searched for her wand in the pile of papers and pens around her. Not finding it she groaned and cracked her eyes open. Gizmo’s yellow eyes met her green ones and he began to purr as he rubbed his face into hers. Reluctantly Rain sat up and winced at how tight her muscles were. She slowly changed positions and looked around for her wand again. It was in the center of her newest journal like a bookmark. She frowned and removed it from the page. Last night’s work came back to her as she reviewed the project notes on the page. They were failures of course but that just meant she was closer to a success. She had been trying to brew a potion to cure her lycanthropy again and she could smell the nasty black cauldron just thinking about it.

It’ll work eventually... right?

She didn’t have time for thoughts like that. She pointed her want at a few of the machines in the room and smiled as she began to hear the turning of cogs. The sound of whirs and hum of the metal she had enchanted continued into the kitchen where Gizmo’s bowl was filling with food and her mug was filling with coffee. The cat’s ears perked up and he darted to the door. Rain stood up and opened it for him then turned to the mess on her floor. Books littered the floor and her cauldron still sat on her desk with the ruined potion in it. She sighed and waved her wand over the mess putting the journals in a pile on her too full bookshelf and the spilled ink back into the jar. She made her bed and opened the curtains on her window trying to judge the time. She had enchanted a clock to tell her if she would be late for anything but it was in the pocket of her black coat that had been tossed on the couch last night after work.
The sun had just begun to peak over the top of the buildings across the street so she knew it was at least 6:30 but probably not later than 7:00. Rain tucked her wand into her messy hair and walked into the kitchen to get her coffee. The cauldron would need to be neutralized later and then disposed of carefully. Some of the ingredients weren’t the most legal or easy to acquire so they would look suspicious if she dumped them out and she did not trust the pipes enough to put it down the sink.

That sounds like a problem for future me.

Twenty minutes later she had changed into grey cargo pants she had charmed to be nearly indestructible. She had lost a few too many pairs to burns or acid or rogue scissors for her liking. They could still be damaged but it would take more than the minor scrapes she got in Dervish and Banges. She loved her work charming metal but she loved the freedom to experiment even more. Although that freedom sometimes meant an accident or two. She threw a charcoal colored tank top on over it and a baggy flannel then picked up her coat and scratched Gizmo goodbye.

She stepped outside and frowned as her clock buzzed in her pocket. It was 7:15 and she wasn’t expected to work for another 15 minutes.

What am I late for?

She pulled it out of her pocket and examined it for a moment. It was a standard pocket watch. Nothing fancy by wizard standards but it would have looked a bit strange to muggles. It was silver and it fit well in her palm which is why she had bought it. The clock had three hands, two for the regular hours and one that switched from pointing to the words EARLY LATE and ON TIME. Currently the hand said LATE.

Rain frowned. She reviewed her schedule in her mind but couldn’t find anything missing. It’s not like she had many appointments. Usually it was just work then tinkering and maybe a nap on repeat. Gizmo was the only reason she had a firm sense of morning and was also the only reason she was typically early to work.

Maybe it’s just wrong today?

It has never been wrong. Rain was a talented metal charmer and that meant that a charm was innate to the object once she cast it. There was no ability for spell decay or fault once charmed correctly.

She placed the watch back in her pocket and began to make her way to work. The problem ran through her head and she tried to think of what could be wrong the entire way there but she came up with nothing. She walked into the shop at 7:25 and headed to the back. She could hear whoever was supposed to be at the counter upstairs looking through boxes probably restocking.

Rain pulled out the pocket watch again and the punctuality hand still read late. She closed the door between the counter and her work space and pulled down the list of projects she needed to complete for customers. It’s wasn’t often someone put in a special order and there was only one that had been placed in the last week for a patron named Doriius Flatwood. It was a pocket watch similar to her own and he would be by to pick it up later in the day. She had finished the order yesterday but now curiosity overcame her.

Rain put her watch down on the table and picked the one she had just charmed up from beneath the counter out front. They looked identical but she knew which was hers. She had never had difficulty knowing things like that about her projects or about most other enchanted machines. They just felt different to her. The customer’s watch read on time. She frowned and replaced it under the counter and returned to the back room.

The rest of her work day was fairly uneventful. She fulfilled the orders that came in and didn’t start a fire in the back this time. Her pocket watch vibrated in her pocket a few times but she resisted the urge to pull it out and check. She knew if she did that it would become her new hyper fixation. Instead she focused on her charms and experimented with a mechanical mouse model she had made for Gizmo.

After losing track of time and having to relook the door behind her after the girl at the counter had closed the shop Rain decided to head over to the Hogs Head. It had been a while since she had gotten a second opinion on a charm she had cast and maybe someone she knew from school would be there. If not a friendly face there would at least be a drink in her future and for that she was grateful. She fingered the mechanical mouse in her pocket and made her way there.





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Sun Jan 31, 2021 9:58 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



🍄 Raphael Todd-Lockwood 🍄


It was just one of those days. Raphael had woken without the desire to do anything, not even to get out of bed. So he hadn’t. Axel had checked in to see if he was okay, since they usually did their morning preparations at the same time, but he’d understood. He would never do the same, of course — the ability to carry on despite how he might have felt was one of the things Raphael admired most about his brother. He’d then left, and Raphael had stayed in bed. Only Axel’s later request had spurred Raphael into any kind of action at all.

A sudden, loud crack announced Axel’s return, as if Raphael’s thoughts had summoned him. Raphael started out of his contemplation and instinctively drew his wand, regarding his brother with the ghost of passing fright.

Axel, holding a few paper bags from his shopping, grimaced. “Sorry, El.”

Raphael shook his head, flashing a half-smile to show it was all right. He flicked his wand and sent a dragonfly zooming towards his brother.

Axel chuckled lightly as it landed on his head. He tried shooing it, lowering his hand without realising it hadn’t budged. “Anything happen while I was gone?” Only then did he register the abandoned quill on the empty page in front of Raphael. His eyes then shifted to the heap of red envelopes next to the page. He frowned. “Are those… howlers?”

Raphael looked down at them and back up at his brother, grinning. “Yeah!” His grin faltered. “But I don’t know what to write for the last one.”

He’d considered writing something about not being able to get out of bed, but that didn’t quite have the same impact as the previous accusation. The last one needed to pack a powerful punch.

Axel, still frowning, slowly began moving to pack away the ingredients he’d bought. “And… to whom are we sending howlers?”

“Yours truly,” Raphael replied, smiling brightly.

He stopped and stood frozen for a heartbeat. Only once the dragonfly launched off his head and zoomed off to some other part of the shop, prompting him to track the insect for a second, did Axel regain his capacity for speech.

“El, why would you send howlers to yourself?”

Raphael shrugged. “I needed something to do. The silence was maddening.”

Axel offered a weak smile. “Oh, right. Well, thank you for standing in. But that still doesn’t explain why you chose this particular activity.” He gave Raphael a pointed look before moving into the storage room.

Naturally, that was when inspiration struck. “Well, let me finish this last one and you’ll discover why soon enough!”

────────── ⋆⋅ 🍄 ⋅⋆ ──────────


On the way to the post office, Raphael hummed to himself, hoping nobody along the way would engage in pleasantries with him — or worse still, ask what he was doing with an armful of howlers — but when he spotted a figure clad all in black, regarding a wall with what looked like considerable frustration, he did himself in and approached.

Felix didn’t notice his approach, focused on glaring at the words “THE DARK LORD’S VENGENCE WILL” as he was. The text glowed and writhed in an ethereal, smoky black. Raphael couldn’t tell if the boy had noticed his spelling error or if he didn’t know what to say next (probably the latter), but his scowl was furious.

Feeling mischievous, Raphael cast a cheering charm on Felix by way of greeting.

…Felix did not appreciate the gesture, which is to say he gleefully shouted, “Raphael! I’m so happy to see you! I hate it! What have you done to me?!”

He chuckled. “Given you what I lack today!” He gestured at the Death Eater graffiti. “That’s a bit grim, isn’t it?”

Felix beamed with unsuppressed joy. “You can’t keep me from spreading the truth! But seriously, I haven’t felt this happy in years! Make it stop!”

Raphael had to suppress a severe fit of snickering. After a second’s effort, he sputtered out, “I don’t think I’ve heard you say as many words in the months since we’ve met either.”

“Please! I’ll clean this off myself!”

Raphael waved his wand at the text, making the letters individually shift through the colours of the rainbow. “I don’t think it looks that bad now. People might actually be amused enough to be fine with it there.”

Felix started hosing away the words with water from his wand. The text started hissing and bubbling, but it came away all the same. Raphael grimaced at the multi-coloured mess, not sure how Felix had been creating the graffiti, but also not sure why he chose something that simply washed away with water anyway.

“There! I’m cleaning it!”

Feeling especially impish, Raphael winked at him before walking away. Cheerful and desperate Felix might afford somebody else some amusement, and it really wasn’t hard to figure out that the General Counter-Spell would work. Pointing at most problems and shouting Finite tended to work.

Felix continued pleading as the distance between them increased, his cries becoming ever louder despite the fact that he could have stopped washing away the graffiti at any time.

────────── ⋆⋅ 🍄 ⋅⋆ ──────────


Axel sighed. Raphael had delivered his howlers, enthusiastically instructed the very confused post office worker on when to send each one, and then hastily returned. (He hadn’t simply apparated back to the apothecary because he’d wanted to see if Felix was still at his former spot, and maybe deliver him from his “insufferable” cheerfulness, but he’d disappeared off somewhere. The graffiti, and even the colourful gunk, had been gone too.) He’d already explained the aim of his experiment, so all that was left was for the first owl to arrive. They both sat behind the counter while they waited.

“How much longer?”

On cue, a barn owl noiselessly swooped through the window. It dropped the howler, turned on its wing, and departed just as quickly.

Axel stared at the envelope with mild terror. “I guess that answers that.”

Raphael pointed his wand at what he expected to be his first failure. “Incendio!

Fire leapt from the beech wood onto the red paper. Where a normal letter would have shrinked away at the flames, its message quickly succumbing to the ravenous, razing beast, the howler simply burst open and into a furious tirade, the fire an infernal aura adding to the heat of the words.

“You absolute, blithering idiot! You moronic, brick-headed imbecile!

Axel stared at Raphael with wide eyes, but Raphael merely grinned back and gazed at the howler with evident self-satisfaction.

“Did you actually think something as mundane and uninspired as fire would stop me from yelling your own insults at you? A CHILD COULD DO BETTER THAN THIS! The only thing that can destroy me, you pea-brain, is me!

To prove its point, the howler burst into a cloud of ash, stealing the flames away with it. Raphael burst out in laughter and rang his enchanted bell, which made no sound in the shop yet rang clearly in the post office, but Axel was far less amused.

Raphael!” He stared in open-mouthed shock. “How could you do that?! Scourgify!” Axel waved his wand, banishing the ashes in an instant. “That was in your voice! I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say such dreadful things before, least of all shouting them at yourself!”

Raphael understood that his brother was genuinely upset, so he rose and embraced him. Axel, being angry, lightly pounded his back with his fist, but he then returned the embrace all the same. When Raphael pulled away, he grimaced and said, “I’m afraid there are nine more to come, though.”

Axel gaped. “Nine?

Raphael’s grimace became more severe. “What’s the point in doing an experiment if you don’t include controls? I have an inkling of what will work, so I left those for last and put all the obvious spells people would use to try and get rid of howlers first.”

Scowling, Axel said, “I know! You’ve already said that. But you hadn’t told me how large your sample size would be!”

Raphael shrugged and grinned sheepishly. “I mean, you could have counted them before I left.”

The same owl swooped through the window and repeated its course of action from before.

“Excellent!” Raphael didn’t even wait to hear from Axel before shouting, “Diffindo!” at the howler.

Naturally, a simple slash did nothing but hasten the delivery of the howler’s explosive message.

“That is twice now that you’ve failed, and not only was this attempt less creative than your previous one, which is really a bloody achievement in itself, it’s possibly the stupidest response anyone could have to receiving one of these. Well done, Sherlock!”

The howler ripped itself to pieces, leaving Raphael smiling and Axel still quite unhappy.

“Come on, that one wasn’t as bad. …Mostly because I’d run out of insults to use, and I knew you truly wouldn’t appreciate it if I cursed at myself.”

Axel threw his arms up in exasperation. “You think?!

“Hey, that’s why I didn’t curse!”

Axel shook his head and stomped off to the backroom again, waving his wand and plucking a book out of the aether. “I’ll be reading in here. I’m not going to listen to you disparage yourself in such an awful manner.”

────────── ⋆⋅ 🍄 ⋅⋆ ──────────


And indeed, he had not. Whether he’d cast a spell to block out any sound from outside the storage room, or whether he simply chose to ignore the scarlet scolding, Raphael heard nothing from him for the next four howlers.

All of them had been failures, as expected. Well, maybe Bombarda was a little disappointing, but Raphael was impressed to learn that howlers resisted even the Exploding Charm. He’d chuckled at his choice for that particular howler’s diatribe, but to be fair, he’d resorted to contextual insults for all four of them. Aqua eructo had revolved around water puns, Duro around stone metaphors, Reducto… okay, yeah, that one had been a bit plainer, and then Bombarda had ended with the glorious, “In fact, you could have charmed a troll to eat me and you’d have bested yourself in a contest of subtlety. Really.”

Raphael deflated at the thought that Axel hadn’t been around to appreciate the fittingness of his remarks (even if he’d been appalled, he would have commented on them in the evening, once they were conversing over their nightly hot chocolate), but he brightened a bit knowing that the next one would involve him again.

When the seventh howler was dropped onto the counter — still no customers for the day, unfortunately but luckily — Raphael pointed at the door to the back. “Portaberto!” As soon as the door flew open, he pointed at the howler and followed up with, “Depulso!” sending the wretched thing flying through the doorway.

“El, no!” Axel positively shrieked.

“Oh, relax! I was going to banish this one anyway.”

“What, will it shout that you’re trying to make your problems disappear?”

Raphael winced and chuckled. “No, that one comes later!”

“…What?!

Just then, the howler flew out of the storage room, literally hitting Raphael’s face before bursting open.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”

About halfway through, Axel must have risen from his seat and walked over, because just as the howler stopped and began eating itself, he appeared in the doorway. Raphael had been trying to keep a straight face, but seeing his brother’s extremely unimpressed expression, he broke into a fit of laughter.

“Oh, I’m delighted you found that amusing.”

Gasping for air, Raphael interjected, “No, I find that—” He pointed at Axel’s face. “—amusing!” After a few more seconds of breathless laughter, he added, “And I did try casting Silencio on it, by the way.”

“Your sense of humour disappoints me at times.”

Raphael regained his composure, breathing deeply, and patted the stool beside him. “Come on, sit back down. I’m almost done.”

Axel narrowed his eyes and walked back into the storage room. Raphael’s cheer fell, but it rose again when Axel appeared, book in hand, and resignedly sat down.

“If you insult yourself too badly, I’m chasing you away.”

Raphael patted Axel’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, only the last two are particularly bad.”

Axel frowned deeply. “El, that’s right after the next one.”

“Aww, and here I thought you weren’t listening!”

He summoned the next one. When it dropped in front of them, he beamed at Axel with excitement in his eyes. “All right, I actually don’t know whether this one will work.” He cleared his throat and aimed his wand once more. “Draconifors.

Alas, the howler didn’t turn into a dragon, although it sighed so loudly, it sounded almost like a dragon breathing fire. “I don’t even have the words for this. Dragons are so much worse than whatever misery you’re facing. Are your troubles really so bad that you’d trade them away for a tiny demon that could eat your fingers and murder your child while it sleeps? Roar.”

Axel sighed just as loudly as the howler, even as it burst into shreds and rained down onto the brothers like fireball-confetti. “That’s dark, El. And also pushing it.”

Raphael shrugged with a smile on his lips. “Some Gryffindors and Slytherins I know would appreciate that kind of joke. But I am sad howlers resist even powerful transfiguration spells.”

He simply got another sigh in response.

“What makes the last two so bad?” Axel animated the confetti to fly around like a flock of minute starlings, making a papery shivering sound as it soared overhead.

“You’ll understand when you hear which spells I intend on using for them.”

Axel gave him a concerned look, and when the next howler dropped in front of them, he looked like he might run away.

Raphael was confident, however. “Oh, relax. Evanesco.

The howler disappeared without a sound, leaving an eerie silence hanging in the apothecary. The sound of the mock-birds had faded upon the howler’s arrival, as Axel had lost his focus.

“Is… that it?”

Raphael nodded. “I knew it would work. Nothing can really resist vanishing.”

Axel gave him a very sad look. Raphael couldn’t entirely guess what Axel had interpreted or deduced — the howler’s unspoken message? his skill at the spell being put to such a trivial task? the subject of thoughts he pushed aside when not alone? — but he knew whatever it was, he was right.

Raphael looked away and rang the bell one final time. He disenchanted the item as soon as he placed it down; there was just something suddenly unnerving about a bell tolling in apparent silence.

“What’s the last spell?” Axel asked quietly.

Laughing nervously, Raphael said, “You, err… actually wouldn’t want to know.”

Axel immediately went from softly apprehensive to intensely apprehensive. “Raphael.”

He rose. “If people ask why they heard an explosion coming from our house, just tell them it’s fine and there’s no need to worry.”

Raphael!

Raphael smiled, ready to disapparate. “I shan’t destroy anything I can’t fix. Except for the howler; I’m fairly certain even that won’t survive the Blasting Curse.” He winked, and then he was gone.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.





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Carina says...



Emmaline Longiflorum


cowritten with @AstralHunter

Emma sighed, leaning against the back porch of the shop as she took a smoke break to ease her nerves. The sun was setting, and the back entrance was the perfect view to watch the sunset. Add in the backdrop of the gardens, and it was always a perfect way to end the day. There weren't too many customers today, but she knew next month will have bigger orders since she was the florist for a wedding. It was kind of ironic to be a muggle florist for a magical wizard wedding, but she was just glad to get the extra income.

Sighing, she finished her joint and then set it on a small ash tray on the ground. Emma took a quick swig of water, put on the shop's apron, and then headed back inside to close up shop.

She only needed to put away the flowers on display and then wrap some of them as bouquets to deliver tomorrow. She was about to do exactly that, but one step in the door, and she realized someone was in her shop.

"Oh. Hi, Raphael," she said with a shy smile, closing the door behind her and then sauntering over to the cashier corner. He didn't frequently visit the shop, so she figured he wasn't here for smokes or flowers. "What brings you here this evening?"

Raphael was casually looking around with his hands in his pockets, and he flashed a bright smile at her, but then briefly looked down, looking slightly embarrassed. "Flowers, for once," he said softly.

Emma's smile turned a little warmer at his words. "Flowers," she repeated quietly. "I can help with that." She couldn't help but glance at the clock next to her, but for Raphael, she'd gladly spend extra time to help him pick out flowers.

She exited the cashier area and leaned up against the counter, facing him. "Are you looking for anything specific?" she asked.

"Err, yeah," Raphael began, shifting his weight to his other foot. "I… amused myself earlier, but I think I upset Axel, my brother, in the process. I was going to shrug it off, but…" He grimaced. "I figured getting him something as an apology would be the right thing to do. I was walking past, saw your shop, and thought maybe flowers would work. Is that weird? Does nobody buy their brother flowers?"

If Emma hadn't just finished her joint, she'd probably mimic Raphael's rising anxiety because she wasn't sure how to answer his last question. It wasn't like she had a brother, or any family, really. She just liked giving everyone flowers, and she didn't consider it weird at all.

Instead she kept her gaze on him and nodded in understanding. "I think flowers would be sweet. There are more to flowers than romantic roses, and I think I know just the bouquet that'll work."

She started to walk towards the back of the shop to pull out freshly-cut flowers from this morning, but then stopped to look back before she could. She just wanted to make sure she got this right.

"So, this is like... an apology present then?" she asked sheepishly.

His face lit up. "Yeah! I could just…" He pulled out his wand and produced a bouquet of pink orchids from the tip, which he took and then placed on the counter. "… Do that, but that feels kind of cheeky and insincere." He seemed to remember the flowers he'd just created and then added, "Oh, but you can keep those. They're real, despite the magic."

Emma knew that Raphael didn't mean anything by it, but she couldn't help but feel a little sad that he so effortlessly created flowers out of thin air. Once again, she was reminded she was an ordinary muggle in a wizarding world, and she had to work ten times as hard to obtain the same results. She didn't want to just outright tell him that the orchids were inauthentic, but it felt that way to her. Because, to her, her flowers were different; they were grown out of passion and dedication, deliberately chosen in a bouquet for each person and event. A lot of thought and time was put into this, unlike the few seconds it took for a wizard to re-chant a spell.

"Thanks," she said quietly, trying to shoot him an appreciative smile and hoping it didn't come out forced. "I, um..." She turned back towards the fresh-cut flowers. "I'm thinking something less... pink?"

She looked back at him to gauge his reaction.

Raphael broke into laughter. "Yes, please. Pink isn't really his colour."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm thinking white, then," she mused out loud as she began to pull out white tulips. "Tulips okay? They're pretty good apology flowers, I think."

"They're perfect." He beamed.

Emma smiled back and then wordlessly began to put together a bouquet of the tulips. She figured twenty tulips were more than enough to impress Axel. She knew this wasn't about her; this was about Raphael's relationship with his brother, but still, she couldn't help but feel like she had to prove herself. Prove herself that, yes, she was capable, and could produce non-pink flowers that were better than what wizards could make out of thin air.

She set the flowers on a counter and took out brown matte paper and twine-like ribbon to wrap it around. While she did this, Raphael didn't say a single word, and she glanced up at him to notice that he was staring very intently at some lilies on display. Either he found them strangely fascinating, or something was on his mind.

"Is... everything okay?" she asked, breaking the silence.

He looked up, seemingly confused and lost in thought for a second before refocusing on her and flashing her a nervous smile. "Oh, yeah. You didn't hear an explosion earlier today, did you?" he asked, chuckling softly.

"An explosion?" Emma repeated with wide eyes, staring up at him with panic surging through her. "Was... today, you said? Is everyone okay? And everything?"

The expression of cheer melted away and was suddenly replaced with alarm. "Oh! No, everyone and everything is fine. Some of the town's residents are just…" He trailed off, looking for the right word. "Eccentric. Weird. Bored. Whichever word you think works best."

"Oh," she said softly in response. She hoped she didn't sound disappointed, because she wasn't. But in a way, she was, because wizards often did crazy things in the name of boredom, and it was getting tiring. "Well... I'm glad no one was hurt," she said as she continued to wrap the ribbon around the bouquet.

A small bout of silence passed before Raphael decided to break it.

"Hey, what do you do in your free time?" he suddenly randomly asked.

Emma looked up at him, pleasantly surprised by the change of topics. Unless they were good friends, it wasn't often that people would ask personal questions about her, especially since everyone knew she was a muggle. They probably thought she lived a boring, ordinary life... and honestly, they were right.

"It's probably not anything as exciting as what you do in your free time," she said with a wistful smile. "But when I'm not gardening or in the shop, I'm usually at home, reading or playing video games. I also sometimes surf the web."

His face lit up even more brightly than before, eyes shining. "That's wonderful! Do you have a GameBoy Advance, by any chance?" He could barely contain his excitement.

"I do," Emma said slowly. With his excitement, she had a feeling that she didn't need to ask why.

"Which games do you play?"

It was nice and surprising to have this discussion with a wizard. Did Raphael also play? She didn't want to make any assumptions and be disappointed if she was wrong.

"I recently got into Harvest Moon on the DS since it just came out," she said, adding the finishing touches on the bouquet. "I know it's kind of funny to have a farming life in a faraway town when I'm doing that now, but there's something calming to it. But the console just came out, so I don't have many DS games. For the Game Boy, I got into Fire Emblem, Legend of Zelda, and Pokemon Ruby."

"That's excellent! I have all of those too, except I have Sapphire instead of Ruby! We should absolutely trade some time!" Raphael said with a big smile.

Emma's eyes lit up when he said that, and she couldn't help but beam at him.

"Really?" she said, unable to suppress her grin. "Kyogre is the last one I need for my Regional Pokedex... I would be happy to trade Groudon for it!"

He gasped. "You have all the others already?! Damn, yeah! I'd love to!"

She laughed, but it was a bit out of nerves. Little did he know that she had spent over a thousand hours grinding away at the game these past few years. "Yeah, I got really into it... I have a couple of shinies you can have, too. I have a weird amount of shiny Magikarps and Tentacools for whatever reason."

"Oh, you must fish a lot! I spend more time doing contests than I probably should, but they're just too appealing. A shiny Magikarp or Gyarados would be perfect for something like a Toughness or Coolness Contest."

It was unfortunate that the conversation was taking off right when Emma finished tying up the bouquet and it was ready to go. Still she found herself not immediately taking action yet.

"I'd be happy to give it to you," she said with sincere smile. "I have the cords and everything. I haven't used it before, but um... I think it would work to trade? It would be so cool to have Kyogre."

"Yeah! That would be amazing," Raphael continued on. "I also have a shiny Roselia, and if you don't, I'd be more than happy to trade her to you as well. I think it would be fitting." He grinned and gestured at the flowers around him to emphasize his point.

"Awww..." Emma said softly, finding her face get a little warm from the thoughtful compliment. "I never even thought about that." She let out a small laugh. "I'm not even sure why Roselia isn't part of my team. I should change that."

She hesitated, and then lifted the bouquet up and walked over to hand it to him.

Spoiler! :
Image


"I finished, by the way. I hope this will help your brother. And also... don't worry about payment." She looked up to meet his eyes with sincerity. "The future trading and the conversation is more than enough to pay for this."

He opened his mouth to say something, but then he grinned widely instead and accepted the bouquet. "Thank you so much. Axel will love these." He paused as a thought seemed to come to him, and he chuckled. "You know, Roselia truly does fit you — you're even presenting me with flowers as a gift."

Emma smiled softly, chuckling in response and scratching the back of her head. She wanted to say something witty back, but nothing came to mind, so she said the first thing that popped in her mind. "Well, if only my name was Rose."

She wanted to facepalm herself.

Emma quickly laughed and moved on before he could say anything. "You sure do know a lot about Pokemon," she commented.

Raphael seemed unfazed by her earlier comment, only chuckling in response. "Thanks. I enjoy reading about the things that interest me, and there happen to be many of those. It's quite useful for trivia night." His eyes widened as an idea seemed to dawn on him. "Hey, you should come along! Even if you don't participate, it would be amazing to have you there. Lots of people come just for the company."

Emma leaned back on the counter in thought, hesitating before answering. "It's tonight...?" she asked, her voice trailing off.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "At the Hog's Head... Unless you have plans already? I don't mean to be presumptuous."

"Oh, no, no," she said quickly, waving her hands out in front of her as she nervously laughed again. "I was just going to go home after closing up shop. I just... well, can I even..." She faltered, looking down at the ground in thought. "You know, join? I assume that the trivia nights are for wizards only, so..."

Raphael smiled and waved his hand to the side. "It's for anyone who's interested. You're a member of the community too, so if you want to come, nobody will turn you away."

Emma appreciated his words, more than he probably knew. It was nice to be affirmed by a member of the magical community that was also part of the community. On rough days, she had to constantly remind herself that this was true. Hearing it come from someone else—by someone she didn't know well, too—hit different.

"Okay," she said with a bashful smile. "If you don't mind... I think it'd be nice to join."

"That'd be great!" Raphael chirped. "Do you want to go home first, or do you feel like heading over now already? We can walk together, if you'd like."

"Aw... I'd like that," she said as she removed the apron over her head. "Give me a few minutes to put some things away and I'll be ready."

"Wonderful! I'll quickly pop home to put these away—" he lifted the bouquet and grinned, "—and meet you outside." With that, he winked and disappeared with a loud crack.

After Raphael left, Emma hurriedly put the plants back in the open so they could breathe, and she put away all other items to clean things up. Mostly throwing away any blunts on the ash tray, adjusting prices and the flower "menu" for tomorrow, taking out the trash, and so on.

She also took a small unsold bouquet of lilies that was on display, figuring she could gift it to Aberforth Dumbledore since she was going to give it away before it wilted anyways. She always appreciated how he helped her during The Second Wizarding War when she needed to go into hiding. Flowers were never enough to show her thanks, but at least it was something.

When she finished, she turned off all the lights and then left the store to lock everything up with the bouquet cradled along her elbow. She turned around and saw Raphael standing nearby, as promised.

"Thanks for waiting up," she said, skipping down the steps.

Dusk was falling, and Emma was glad to have someone walk with her to the tavern. Plus, it was nice to be able to talk about things they shared in common. Turns out, Raphael had a lot more knowledge about the muggle world than she thought. The two of them chatted more about Pokemon, and then about other games, and then their favorite websites. He liked to play flash games, which Emma took note of since she hadn't played too many. He also had a Myspace, and she offered to add him as a friend.

Eventually they reached the tavern, and Raphael walked in first. He waved at the people already there and went to sit at the main table. Emma noticed that Dumbledore was busy serving other customers, so she silently placed the bouquet on the corner of the cabinet, figuring he would know it was from her. Turning back around, she saw that Raphael was already laughing and chatting with his friends, and suddenly Emma felt very awkward standing around. She recognized a few people, namely Raphael (obviously), Robert, and Abela.

As if Raphael read her mind, he seemed to scan the room until he met her eyes, and he waved her over. Emma shot him an appreciative smile and walked over to him, sitting on the open spot he patted beside him.
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winterwolf0100 says...



Abela Jordan

Cowritten with @Carina


Abela looked down blankly at the table in front of her, her thoughts whizzing by. She hadn't expected Emma to be here. Of course, if she was being honest with herself, the possibility had been one of the main reasons why she'd... but no. Emma being here was, if possible, more anxiety-producing than her not being here, and without her, it was already a crowded, cramped space with drunk people shouting and laughing constantly. It really wasn't her type of thing... so why had she even bothered to come?

Again, she knew why. She just didn't want to admit it. And so she wasn't going to. As soon as Emma had come in, Abela had lost any of the miniscule interest in participating that she'd previously had. Talking would mean being noticed by the whole table, which included Emma. And besides, all of these questions were already so random that she doubted she knew the answers to most of them anyway. Jack of all trades, master of none... that was her. And it had its uses, but not when you were trying to answer specialized trivia questions. Then, she knew basically nothing in comparison to everyone. Her thoughts drifting were suddenly interrupted when a voice spoke to her.

"Hey," Emma said softly as Raphael, Robert, and Nes were turned away to scribble their answers in the trivia sheet. Abela glanced upwards to see Emma looking at her with concern in her eyes. "Are you feeling okay?"

Abela's eyes flickered from Emma to the person standing a few tables away, discussing the next round of questions. Round five? How long had she been zoned out? She turned back to Emma and said, "I'm fine."

Emma faintly smiled as she nodded once and seemed to slowly divert her attention back to Raphael, but he was far too occupied with Robert and Nes in an intense discussion about magic mechanics.

"Did you, uh..." she said as she peeled her eyes away to look back at Abela. "Did you get the flowers? You weren't home, so I left some extras on your porch."

Abela tried to keep her face neutral as she said, "Yeah, I got them. They're nice." After an awkward pause, she added, "Thanks."

Emma beamed, seemingly relieved. "No problem," she said. "I'm glad you got them." She glanced up at the bar off to their side, which was now open since some sore losers had walked away after losing one too many trivia rounds. "Do you come here often?" she asked, then let out a weak laugh. "I'm not very good at this..."

Abela swallowed, her eyes narrowing slightly to study Emma. She couldn't tell if she was flirting or... Abela pushed the thought away. She couldn't assume things. Assuming things always made things worse when they weren't true. "No, actually. I don't usually come to trivia night, but Robert was talking about it all day at work--" she left out the part where half the time he was talking, they were plant jokes-- "and so I decided I might stop by, just to see what all the fuss was about."

As if thinking about him had summoned him, Robert whipped his head around in the middle of the discussion to butt in. "Abela! Magical plant trivia!" His eyes held a gleam in them as he said, "Should I ask them about the Alihotsy trees?"

Abela felt like she was jerked out of a dream, and she felt slightly disoriented as she turned to him. "What?"

"You know! Sad music! Would it dampen the effects?" He seemed to get more excited as he said, "Or comedians! Maybe individual trees have a preference! Maybe one of them only likes Ricky Gervais, but another--"

Abela interrupted him. "I don't think you should ask about the Alihotsy trees, Robert."

After a pause of contemplation, he said, "You're right. I should probably go with the fluxweed instead. That seems to hold more scientific merit."

Abela was about to reply with what she was sure would be exasperation, when Emma cut in. "Hey, um, Abela?" Emma said quickly, like she had detected the rising annoyance in her voice. "I think there are some drink specials if you wanted to get some space? At the bar?"

Abela let out a breath to compose herself. A distraction would probably be good-- though a drink with Emma sounded more panic-inducing than the absurdly crowded tavern was already. She hesitated, then said, "Yeah, sure."

Emma smiled but didn't move as she glanced between Abela and the bar. For a terrifying moment, Abela realized that she may have only brought it up as an open invitation for her to escape to the bar by herself, but then she spoke up again.

"Okay," she said as she stood up and took a step towards the bar. "I can get something too."

Abela felt the weight on her chest lift. "Yeah... alright." She stood and pushed her chair back in, folding in on herself to avoid all the people around them. She squeezed her way to the end of the table, seeing Emma had done the same. Once they reached the edge of the tables, the amount of bodies seemed to thin and she felt like she could breath again. She could also move farther away from Emma, who she'd been practically huddled against in the crowd, but she didn't move away until Emma did first.

"Sorry, I thought this list was longer," Emma said with a weak, nervous laugh as she handed her the drink special menu. "It's been a while since I've helped out around here. I think they changed the menu."

"You don't need to apologize," Abela said as she studied the menu, then glanced up. Her brain was moving fast, and after a few seconds of debating, she said as casually as she could, "Here, let's get a pitcher of butterbeer. On me." She kept her voice as steady as she could, unable to tell from Emma's facial expression if she was understanding the second meaning or not.

"Aw. Are you sure?" Emma asked with an appreciative smile, tilting her head and leaning closer to the table. "You don't have to do that. I don't really get gifts from others, even from friends... but I guess that's why I have a job, right?"

Abela's brain seemed to freeze for a second. Even from friends. "Oh... Oh! Yeah, but you, uh... you gave me free things from your job, so I just wanted to pay you back. For the..." her voice was strained, but she still tried to put on a small smile. "For the flowers."

"Oh... hah," Emma said with her own strained laugh. "Don't worry about that. They were leftover from yesterday. I like to give it to people I like, and I think Hablex is worried the cats might eat the lillies... but, um, you don't eat lillies, so that's not a problem." She paused, gritting her teeth as her face flushed from her words. "I mean, I know you don't. But I thought you'd like the flowers anyways. It always makes people happy. I mean - did it make you happy?"

Abela faltered slightly. "Yeah, they did!" She tried not to lay on the fake happiness too much, but her brain was preoccupied on the past tense: did. Now, thinking of the flowers, all she could feel was vaguely nauseous.

"That's good!" Emma said too cheerily. "Yeah. That's good. I can bring you more if you'd like? I cut too many tulips yesterday."

"Yeah, sure!" She realized she hadn't even asked the bartender for the alcoholic butterbeer yet, but she didn't feel like she could even stomach it anymore. She must've looked like a fool. Let me buy you a pitcher of butterbeer! Her brain repeated mockingly. Even if it's just from a friend.

"Listen, I'm, uh... I'm actually not feeling very well," Abela muttered. "Maybe we could postpone the paying back to another day? Or I can just pay you." She reached in her back pocket to pull out her wallet.

"N-No," Emma said while waving her hands in front of her. "No, really, don't worry about it. It's okay. I like to see my friends happy. That's enough payment for me."

Hearing the word friend again felt like another slap to the face, and Abela said gruffly, "Alright. Well, thanks again for the flowers."

"Do you have a favorite flower?" Emma asked with a little smile. "I didn't know what you liked so I gave you a little bit of everything... but maybe next time I can get what you like instead."

"No, no, I don't have a favorite. I'll see you around then, I guess?" She turned towards the door and started pushing her way through the crowd without waiting for a response. It was only when she was outside, halfway back to her house, that she finally found the energy to whisper, "I don't even like plants."

When she finally reached her house, she opened the door. She could hear Lee in his room somewhere, but she didn't want to talk to him. She just wanted to get ready for bed and lay down. On her way to her bedroom, she passed through the kitchen, and froze when she saw the flowers in the vase where she had put them. She felt something inside her break. Without a word, she lifted them from the vase, walked to the corner with the trash-bin, and threw them away. For the first half of the day, struggling to clean out the greenhouse and stuck listening to Robert talk nonstop, she'd thought that magical plants were annoying and rude-- when she'd got home though, saw the flowers on the porch, she'd thought that maybe the muggle ones were worth it. Maybe they were pretty and harmless, just like Emma. But now she could see, as she lay on her bed, her mind unable to sleep, that no matter how much beauty they held, the muggle flowers may not look like the magical ones, may not reach out with tentacles and intelligent maliciousness-- but they were just as poisonous.
he/she/they


winter you are an adorable bean and I love your bad social awareness xD ~Omni
omni played robin hood, stole winter's brain cell ~Silver
winter is the only person who would survive the machine uprising ~Europa





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TinkerTwaggy says...



Sari Belspark


It was but a sound, distant and familiar.

Sari awoke from her light slumber, hazel-colored eyes opened to glare at the ceiling above. Yet, when she pushed on her hands to reach a sitting position, an arm over her bed sheet to cover her chest, Sari knew that it was not the ceiling that she was truly looking at.
She also knew that the sound existed only in her head.
Sari inhaled shakily, breathing out a sigh as she closed her eyes again, letting that sound and the memory surrounding it invade her mind, for there was no use avoiding it.

Crush.

It was the word, uttered by Sari in a time past, that came before the sound; the sound of her chosen method of death-delivering. A statue brought to life, and tasked with the duty of murdering her foe. The sound was formed from a desperate cry, the statue’s foot moving up and crashing down, the brutal destruction of the Death Eater’s bones rattling together for a final tune, the splattering of his blood across the decorated wooden floor and, finally, the sudden interruption of everything forced into silence.
A silence as noisy as all that had preceded it.

Crush.

Sari couldn’t help but gently grab the tuft of curly gray that adorned her otherwise brown hair, while she felt a soft squeeze of her hand by another. Sari turned her head, and of course, she was there.
Without hesitation, Sari placed her forehead against her partner’s and kept that position, content.

“Mornin’.” Sari whispered in a singsong tone.

“Good morning, my bell.” Marlyssa replied, completing their ritual.

They opened their eyes and, like the first time every time, Sari contemplated the ginger-haired, dark-skinned face of the one she shared her life with, unused still to its transfigured humanity.

“Can you shower first?” Sari asked, placing a loving hand on her partner’s cheek. “I want to jog a bit earlier this time.”

Marlyssa nodded. “You are troubled again.”

“It’s just Brynden in my head. I need a moment wi-” she paused, thoughtful. “With him.”

Marlyssa poked Sari’s nose with the tip of her free hand’s finger. “Don’t stay too long. Big day.”

A smile stretched on Sari’s lips. “Big day.”

Marlyssa slowly backed away before rising from the bed, unconcerned as usual by her nakedness, nor the slight cold of the dawning day. She casually moved towards the window and swiftly used the handle next to them to lift the curtains up, letting the morning light flow in before moving in the other direction, towards a wooden wardrobe. Grabbing the wand placed on the nightstand besides the bed, Sari briefly kept her eyes on Marlyssa to enjoy the sight of her undulating muscly belly. Then she focused them back on her wand, holding it aloft while waving from left to right with the other.

Piertotum Locomotor.” Sari chanted.

The familiar spell animated the countless statues that decorated the various wooden shelves fixed to the white walls of her room, suddenly turning them into a moving display of perpetual movement. It evolved into a quiet cacophony that appeased her, forming a routine she wouldn’t trade for the world. Sari placed the wand back on the table before spreading opening her hands, catching the clothes Marlyssa threw at her. She smiled again, noticing that instead of the gray outfit, her partner had given her the sea-green colored sports shirt and pants.
Sari’s favorite shade.

Crush.

“Shh. I’m coming, I’m coming.” Sari whispered to the echoing memory in her head, swiftly putting on the outfit before raising from the bed, pushing her lips on Marlyssa’s cheek as thanks for the cheer-up, then moving past the door and down her house’s stairs to head outside, grabbing a white scarf hung to a coat hook fixed to the wall next to the entrance.

“...Shoes.” Sari realized as her hand reached the silver knob. Then, she looked down and noticed a pair of already laced sea-green shoes and folded white socks next to the dolphin-shaped doormat. Sari silently thanked her recent past self for her good work and, after putting scarf, socks, and shoes on, she headed out to begin her morning jog around the private lake on the side of her house.

“Piertotum Locomotor.”

Sari could not see the Death Eater, for she was hidden from him; him, and his imperfect Killing Curse. Two thoughts appeared within her head at that moment. The first was that she wondered if the other Death Eaters that took part in the war possessed an incomplete mastery of the Killing Curse, and if that was why they seemed to miss it so often — or why it could be blocked by experienced Wizards. The second, however, was visual: she was beginning to picture his sadistically joyful face from earlier shifting to that of fearful surprise.


As soon as she’d begin running at her steady pace around the lake, the memory surrounding this moment — so invading when it wanted to be — came flooding her mind. It always started there; at the casting of that spell on her very first personal projects, after mere days of practice. But she was used to this, now: to the spell, and to the circumstances surrounding it. That was why she let the memory flow, never quickening her pace, never allowing herself to think about anything else. It had, like always, come to her naturally: so, she would face it all.
Again.

Sari would forever be convinced that the situation had forced upon her the “desperate calm that preludes temporary perfection.”
Do or die. Kill or be killed. Now or never.
She was, too, convinced that it was why the statue, her beloved Lyssari MkI, began to move at her magical request, and rushed towards Sari’s enemy. It revealed the young witch’s position — as she hid right behind it before casting the spell — but the scream she heard in reply to Lyssari’s sudden run confirmed that it did not matter just yet.


She could feel her face souring. She could feel the frown slowly forming on her face, she could feel the anticipation of her being as she relived through that scene once more, and she could feel something new, too: the bounce of her legs, the push of her feet and the movement of her arms.
Sari had instinctively began to run like Lyssari MkI.

Notebooks, wands, desks and a variety of school-time furniture, they all flew in all directions like they were simply not on Lyssari’s path. The Death Eater plunged under chairs, leaped above desks, doing his best to outrun his behemoth of a pursuer; but the space was too small for him to run far, and he, apparently, was too panicked to even think about casting a spell.
And no Killing Curse would help him against a being that wasn’t alive to begin with.
Eventually, he did shout a spell, but the ray of light that followed simply bounced off the statue’s metallic skin, crashing on the ceiling above.

“Impedimenta.” Sari whispered to herself, watching the Death Eater’s eyes widen in horror before he rolled on the side, dodging the imminent elbow strike of Lyssari. Sari slowly approached the scene, watching as the man ran towards her, his head turn back to check for Lyssari’s position. It was then that Sari drew her wand in a precise gesture, bringing her arm down before moving it back up as she bent her knees.

“Contrarium ancala.” Sari calmly chanted.


Sari gritted her teeth as a familiar, imaginary pain began to assault her knees. She almost smiled, happy to know that her empathy had grown enough that, even through her running, she could feel her knees hurt upon imagining how it must’ve been for poor Brynden to be on the receiving end of the knee-reversal hex while running.
But, well. She couldn’t exactly say he didn’t deserve it.

With a strangled cry, the Death Eater fell face first on the ground, having been surprised by the sudden reversal of his entire lower half, from waist to feet, with his knees pointing behind despite his running forward.

“‘One of Lyssari’s counter-charms is against the Impediment Hex.’” Sari revealed as she knelt before her foe, snatching his wand away from him as he gasped once more, screaming a barely comprehensible “give that back!” in reply. But, as merciless as he had been all throughout the chase that led them to her trap, she continued, as if reciting a lesson: “‘I know, of course, that it is a dark hex. But I learned to perform contrarium ancala because of a special feature I was planning to put on her.’” Sari threw the extra wand at Lyssari, who caught it within her giant hand. Sari then closed her newly free hand into a fist, and her statue promptly copied the movement, destroying the tool in the process.

“Mercy!” the Death Eater shouted. “Mercy! Mercy! I’ll grant you mercy!”


Sari had always found that… impressive. Impressively foolish, but impressive, still. Impressive to think that in such a situation, something within Brynden’s mind had allowed him to think that he… that he possessed control. That his words, that who he thought he was meant that Sari should expect to be granted mercy from him.

“‘At first, I named it the high-order dimensional joint articulated mechanism.’” Sari continued. Then, she allowed a practiced chuckle to escape her lips. “‘But I figured it was too long, even if accurate. To my friends and listeners, it’s known as the omni-dimensional joints. After Lyssari begins to move, I’d use the series of charm that makes the omni-dimensional joint system work to allow her to freely twist her joints at a three hundred and sixty degree-angle.’” Her gaze turned towards Bryndren as she knelt before him and crossed her arms atop her knees, as though she spoke to a child. “‘She could extend her movement capabilities so much, this way. But it’s very hard to control, and I’m fully aware that it will take years of practice for me to complete. However, it’s in its contextual beauty that I deemed it worthy of my time and effort. Using a hex designed to hurt in order to improve the motion of a creation redesigned to move. That idea is fascinating to me, and with all my heart, I hope that it will be to all of you, too.’”

It was at this moment that Brynden, through his ragged breathing, regained just enough focus to notice something about Sari’s sudden speech. “A-all?” he repeated, visibly confused.

“All.” Sari confirmed. “This was the speech I’d prepared right before introducing Lyssari to my teacher. To the class. To… myself, in a way. I don’t really know why I told it to you. It just came to me, right now, at this very moment. But I think I figured something out, while I was quoting.” she smiled a fearsome smile as she continued. “If I die, my life truly ends. If I die, Lyssari’s advancement ends. If I die, I will never see Marlyssa again. And half her name is already part of my life’s work. That means she’s already a part of my life. But most importantly.” Sari slowly rose from the ground, staring down at her enemy. “It means you, now and forever, are not. Lyssari?” Sari took a few steps back and lifted her foot, ignoring the meaningless pleading of the Death Eater as she stomped the ground before him, eyes locked on his. “Crush.”


And there it was. The sound of Bryndren’s death, and the beginning of her rebirth. The Sari of that day lost what remained of her innocence, and had taken the conscious decision to watch it go. She remembered every detail of that death, for it shocked her to her core. But it was a part of her that decided to put in her mind, and never, ever would she regret it.
At some point, Sari felt herself blink, and that was enough to let her gradually focus on the reality of her current situation. She didn’t know how many laps she’d done, but she knew that the fire in her lungs suggested that she’d likely performed a bit more of them than necessary.
A side effect of her time with Brynden. Nothing more.

“See you next time, I suppose.” Sari whispered as she stopped her run, finding it hard to breathe. She’d definitely need a shower, now.


******




There was always this… this tranquil trigger of thrill upon watching the progressive innterest of a potential client.
Through the windows of the LudoLyssari Golemshop, Sari began to watch unfold her favorite happening of professional life, standing behind the counter of her eternally stirred shop — filled as it was with the moving statues she sold under the name golem.
With Marlyssa by her side, Sari gazed at a child beyond her space, hands linked with what appeared to be his mother, and another older woman. Already, Sari loved their sense of fashion: there was the child, dressed with gray sport pants and an equally gray pullover while a massive dark blue scarf draped his shoulders, falling down his back like a cape for the littlest of lords.
The younger woman wore a stylish orange-brown coat attached with tooth-shaped black buttons down to the chest area; after that, it was left open, revealing a white shirt underneath and knee-length black skirt. Below, she had gray-colored tights and black shoes, of the same color as the handbag she carried — her bowler hat, however, was of a purer shade of brown, crowning her blonde-haired, fair-skinned face.
The other lady, though no less stylish, was more simply dressed: save for a checkered scarf of gray and white, she was completely wrapped in black. Her fur coat went down to her knees, from which poked out a pair of trousers and shoes. Even her handbag was black, and although she looked to be in her sixties, her wild short hair was as blond as the younger lady.
The trio passed in front of the Golemshop and, by the child’s will, they all stopped as his head turned towards the moving statues, thus betraying his interest.


“We haven’t had children in a while.” Marlyssa observed. Then, she frowned. “We haven’t had children in a while, here.”

For a short moment, Sari smirked. “Nice save. Your English is getting better.”

“Apologies, still. You could have followed that up with an adoption joke if I hadn’t noticed.”

“Or a tease.” she detached her gaze from the child’s curiosity to give a pointed look at her partner. “With transfiguration, we can most likely make that biological.”

Marlyssa promptly countered with a precise poke of her finger to Sari’s cheek. “Arousing partners at work is most evil.”

“Granted. I prefer my golems, anyway.”

As the duo resumed their observation in comfy silence, they noticed that the adults went along with the sudden stop, chatting together. But the child kept his stare on the golems, or rather, the displays on which they evolved.
There was a set of four tables in front of the windows, each with their own display. One showcased a duo of golems play-fighting with the mastery of martial artists, while two others — much smaller — cheered them on. The two battlers sometimes stopped their continuous action to strike bodacious stances or, in a more comedic fashion, to let their small audience jump inside the box behind them to fetch replacements parts and quickly replace them, only for the action-driven ones to resume their endless bout.

Another table showcased a group of much bigger golems performing music with miniature guitars, violins, and drums, while their smaller counterparts flawlessly break-danced to the rhythm of the changing tunes. Two of them, cross-armed, simply watched the display, nodding their heads and tapping their foot to the rhythm of the music.

Yet another tables showcased an elaborate, wild west-styled diorama in which golems dressed for the occasion stood, facing away from each other while their hands hovered above holsters. Whenever someone passed near the shop, they walked away from each other and eventually fired, mimicking a typical gunslinger stand-off until one of them fell to the bullet of the other, only to be placed in a box behind the diorama by smaller golems. They were then replaced by other actors in an endless ballet of duos that waited their chance to perform the act.

Finally, a final table showcased golems building a variety of different action sets. Once one was over, they all came together and, timed with the passing of a bystander, struck elaborate poses with perfect synchronicity, in the manner of miniature power rangers and magical girls.

Eventually, the ladies that accompanied the child noticed his interest, and one of them knelt in front of him, saying something Sari couldn’t hear while pointing a finger towards her shop. Sari smiled upon witnessing the child shake his head before departing with the pair of adults, his gaze still transfixed on the display that she knew had impressed him.
That was why she showed no surprise when, some time later, the same trio passed in front of the shop from the other direction, only for the child to take back his hands from the two women that kept them within theirs, and finally approach on his own, eventually opening the door while they followed behind him.

“Welcome.” Sari calmly exclaimed upon hearing the entrance bell ring. She offered a smile and a quick bow of her head to the child, keeping a hand on her eight-paneled black baker boy hat while Marlyssa imitated the greeting gesture. The child stopped his march, staring around him to see that even inside, some golems were still in motion — next to those that were locked inside boxes with equally moving images. The entire shop was surrounded by bookshelves of polished wood placed against immaculate teal-colored walls, with those colorful golem and golem cardboard boxes, alongside books.

“Hi!” the child greeted back, finally looking at Sari herself. His eyes then slightly widened, and she let him stare at her sea green shirt and green tie, always decorated with six yellow-colored, flower-shaped buttons. She watched as the child’s eyes moved to Marlyssa’s tall figure, the dark green halter top that partially showed her well-toned abdominal muscles, the necklace of colorful beads around her neck and the ribbon-shaped piece of rope that attached her ginger hair into a ponytail.
Sari couldn’t help but empathize with his sudden hesitation, as she realized that to him, it was as if the word “exotic” was written all over both of them in shiny capital letters.
There was a small pause, during which the child’s eyes focused on the ground. One of the women behind him whispered a barely audible “well, go on!” at him, while Sari simply moved out of her spot, walking straight towards him. Using her hands to readjust the brown suspenders hanging next to her loose, black-colored hakama pants, she knelt to his level and crossed her arms atop her knees. Then, a thought occurred.

‘She could extend her movement capabilities so much, this way.’

Sari’s smile grew tender, as the recently re-explored thought briefly poked her mind. That was true. She had the exact same pose as back then, didn’t she.

“What’s your name, big guy?” Sari inquired.

His short brown hair tussled wildly as he jerked his head up. “Killian.”

“Well, Killian. I’m Sari. How would you like to try one of my golems?”

A timid smile appeared on Killian’s face, while his blue eyes lit up. “Is it okay?”

“Of course. They work very hard to get people to like them, you know. Which one would you like to see first?”

Killian looked around, then pointed at one of the decorated boxes. “Those who fight.” he said. “Like that one!”

The image showcased a red-eyed metallic statue wearing a black bomber jacket, as well as a long, dark purple buttoned dress. Though the golem remained motionless, the dress was opened from the waist down, floating behind it like a heroic waist cape. So too floated the warrior’s knightly plume, of slightly lighter purple than the dress. Its feet had been colored brown to give the appearance of boots, while it firmly held a fighting staff at the end of which rested a double-edged sword blade decorated with a red jewel at its base. A nightly, steampunk-inspired background allowed the golem’s eyes and staff to glow softly, alongside a black choker necklace at the end of which shone a red pearl, appearing like menacing third eye.

Sari nodded. “Then you can play with that one a little. My partner will show you the ropes, okay?”

Killian’s eyes widened. “That means she’ll teach me the basics!” he exclaimed.

Sari gave him another smile. Just for that, he deserved a good day. “Very good, Killian. That’s exactly what that means. Do the exact same thing when you’re with the golems: learn, remember, apply. You’ll do just fine.” she rose from the ground as the boy smiled with the simple pride of little successes. “Lys, please. Fetch me a Takael model. All-Assembled, with blade-staff.” a frown. “Reg-size. Also?” glancing at her partner, she pointed at Killian. “You can take him in the back. He wins a misadventure, today.”

“Misadventure it is.” With a nod, Marlyssa left her spot, opening the back door behind the counter before walking towards Killian and, gently, bent her knees to diminish her towering height and extend a hand for the boy to take. “Come.” a smile appeared on her face. “I’ll make sure you have fun with your oncoming new friend.”

Killian smiled back, timidly taking the hand. Marlyssa gracefully straightened herself, bowing her head towards the two women. “We’ll be back soon enough.” with that, she pulled a key — decorated with shining runes — out of her dark green hakama pants’ pocket as she reached the back room’s door.

“Apologies, by the way.” Sari said as she turned towards the adults watching the scene with unmasked delight. Though her smile had already vanished — as per habit — her tone remained calm and sweet.

“Oh no, please!” the younger lady exclaimed, waving her hand as if to shoo away the apology. “That’s just fine. He did not bother you, did he?”

Sari dramatically lifted a finger. “I’m morally obligated to say no,” she started, making both of them chuckle, “but frankly, no. I’m just happy to entertain.”

“That’s good.” the older one said, nodding twice in approval. “Best if you enjoy this work, since you have it. Fresh out of Hogwarts?”

“It’s been a few years.” Sari replied. “I simply made a business out of my specialty.”

“I’m very glad you did that, because I’ve never seen a shop like this!” the younger woman exclaimed. “Did you make all of these yourself?”

Sari let a ghost of a smile decorate her lips as she slowly bowed her head. “Thank you. Most of them, yes. But I’ve had help from my partner for others. Lys helps me with the field tests, as well.” she raised an eyebrow. “Would you like a quick run-through?”

“Oh yes, please!” a smile. “And pleased to meet you. Sari, was it?”

“Sari, yes. Lys is my co-worker.”

“Right. I’m Lessia, Killian’s mother. And this is Marianne, his grandmother.”

“Pleased.” Marianne added with a nod. “Kid’s already in love, so, don’t worry — we’re buying.”

“That would be great. Not many clients, today — not that I mind the quietness.” Turning back, Sari pulled out her wand and performed the familiar gesture. “Piertotum Locomotor.” Snapping her fingers with her free hand, she used the other to point towards the counter; immediately, five different golems came leaping down from their respective shelves, running towards their mistress before nimbly jumping onto the counter, in front of the two ladies. Sari faced them once more, appreciating their amused surprise.

“Are all those all the sizes?” Lessia inquired.

“Not quite.”

A few stomping thumps later, a two-meter tall metallic golem came marching past the door leading into the backroom, expertly moving down to avoid the ceiling before placing itself next to the counter.

“Made that one, too?” Marianne asked, visible curiosity lighting up her eyes.

“I have.” a brief smile. “They’re the hardest ones to make. To elaborate: they go from Petit, to Regular, to Tall, to Monster, to Minerva.” Sari specified while pointing at the golems one after the other. “Pet, Reg, Tall, Mon and Mi are the abbreviations used to differentiate them when they’re inside boxes. There are also two sets you can buy: All-Assembled or Puer-Puzzlers. These All-Assembled models require no further customization from you; they’re pre-made. The Puer-Puzzlers, however…” Sari snapped her fingers; one of the two Monster-size golems immediately laid itself down on counter, while the two others next to it hurriedly disassembled it in parts: arms, torso, legs and head, with the pairs of limbs placed next to each other. “...require manual assembly. Specifically, a mixture of physical labor and magical knowledge. The point is for the owner of it to exercise themselves in attempting to make their own golem based on these parts, and have a more personal connection with it once it starts moving.” she glanced back at the ladies. “It’s quite satisfying.”

Sari watched as the two women gazed at each other, wordlessly considering the information they’d just be given. Then, Lessia looked back at her, and simply asked: “What would you recommend?”

It was Sari’s turn to fall into a thoughtful silence. I definitely shouldn’t overwhelm them with information. she mused. “Well, there’s five types of golems I can sell you, but I don’t think they matter aside for the one Killian already expressed interest in — the Combaciels, those who fight. Tell me, is Killian an only-child?”

“Yes.” Lessia said with a smile. “At home, there’s just me, him, his father, and my mother here. She sometimes visits.”

Sari nodded. “Alright. I ask because my recommendations are usually suited to the client’s situation. Since Killian’s an only-child, I suggest taking two Reg-sizes, All-Assembled — unless he’s the type who really gets a kick out of puzzles.”

“Those Puer-Puzzlers.” Marianne intervened. “Cheaper, or same as All-Assembled?”

“The price varies based on the materials rather than the type of sets, meaning there isn’t a difference between them. However, Reg-sizes are more affordable than any sizes above them, but also easier to have fun with compared to Pet-sizes. Mostly because it’s easier to appreciate their moves even with untrained eyes. With that, you should add two Martial-type Charm Booklets, for which you won’t need to pay any extras. They’re sold alongside any golem purchase, and on top of that, painting charms won’t be necessary.” Sari casually opened a hand, only for the Reg-sized one still on the counter to somersault its way atop it, landing in Sari’s palm with obvious flexibility. “As you can see, they already come with an assortment of colors. I think you should only consider buying painting charms if Killian really builds a bond with his golems.”

Lessia thought about it. “Well, if it’s just for spectacle’s sake, we could simply buy a Tall-size, I suppose.”

“That’s also doable.” Sari agreed. “I tend to recommend two of them with different Charm Booklets to make sure that children can enjoy the variety of moves they can perform against each other. But if he’s fine with just one, then-”

“We’re done.”

All three heads turned towards the back room door, from which Marlyssa emerged. Killian followed her closely, hand still warmly stuck within hers while the other held the Takael golem model that had caught his eye, earlier.

“Did you have fun?” Lessia asked immediately. “Is this the golem you’re taking?”

Killian grinned, furiously nodding his head. “I’m not done practicing commands yet!”

“That’s fine, darling. Would you like another one to keep it company?”

“...Can I?” he asked, obvious hope pouring from his tone.

Lessia glanced back at Sari. “We’ll be taking your offer, then.”

Sari smiled gently. “Alright.”

“How’d it go?” Marianne asked, gazing at Marlyssa.

Sari looked along, while the latter replied. “Killian has guts, willpower and perseverance.” Marlyssa enumerated. “I think he’ll have fun figuring out how much he can do with golems, and I hope he won’t be frustrated instead. I’m confident he’ll appreciate the quality.”

Upon hearing that last word, Sari remembered its hidden message. She hated sounding too commercial, but she’d have to pull through as tactfully as she could. “Then it’ll be six galleons, twelve sickles and six knuts in total.” Sari gazed at Marlyssa. “Did he already choose his second one?”

Marlyssa nodded. “Shipporae.” As she calmly let go of the child’s hand to go fetch the box, Sari let a sudden frown appear on her face, trained to be natural. “This next part is going to sound too commercial for my liking,” she started, looking back at the ladies with curious eyes, “but I think I should mention it. Would you like to add spare Painting Charms anyway? Not alternate ones, I mean the ones corresponding to the golems’ current colors.”

Oh. You mean in case it goes off to much?” Lessia immediately grasped.

Sari nodded. “It doesn’t usually happen before several months, but it is more frequent with beginners. And not necessarily children, I might add.”

“Is it fine to come back only if we need it?” Marianne intervened, fiddling with her scarf.

“Absolutely.” Sari assured. “I’m not planning to move this store any time soon, so you’re free to take the charms later — or not take them at all, if you’d rather do that.”

Marianne nodded. “How much?”

“Fifteen sickles and eleven knuts per pack. You’ll be at eight galleons, eight sickles and twenty-three knuts in total.”

“Affordable.” Lessia decided. “We’ll take them, if you don’t mind.”

“Understood. Assemble.” with that word and a gesture of the wand, Sari ordered the golems behind her to re-assemble the Monster-size, while the giant Minerva-size simply walked back towards the back room, briefly turning to offer a friendly wave to the family behind it, expertly dodging the door frame on its way out.

“You have a lot of fun with their movements.” Marianne commented with a grin.

“You have no idea.” Sari confirmed, suppressing a giggle as she placed herself behind the counter once more, readjusting her hat alongside the gray tuft of hair below. Once they were done with their task, the golems ran back to their shelves alongside the newly assembled one — just in time for Marlyssa to place two boxes on the counter: the Takael’s and the Shipporae’s, the latter featuring the image of a golem outfitted with a ruby red tailcoat with white epaulets, deep blue legs passing as pants, white boot-like feet with elaborate laces and a rapier held by its left hand.

“Here you go!” the mother said as she placed the money on the counter, which Sari accepted with a “thank you” before placing it in the appropriate drawer below.

“Will that be all?”

“Will that be all?”

It took all of Sari’s willpower to avoid looking at Marlyssa and offer her a loving smile upon realizing that the two had spoken at the exact same time, and her peripheral vision indicated that Marlyssa had somehow survived the ordeal as well.

“Yes, that’ll be all. Thank you so much for your time, you two.” the mother said, grabbing the tiny handbag she wore and casually stuffing the two boxes and paint charm packs inside — most likely thanks to an Extension charm. “You’ve been lovely to us.”

“You’re welcome.” Sari assured.

“Please enjoy your day.” Marlyssa added. Then, she glanced at Killian. “Make them fierce.”

If the young boy’s eyes could spontaneously ignite with fire, they would have at this very moment. “Feerse!” he repeated with passion.

Marlyssa nodded as the family of three left the Golemshop, while Sari’s eyes followed them until they were out of view.

“You’ve made a new friend.” Sari observed, a playful fragrance escaping the solemnity of her tone.

“I refuse to waver in the face of age.” Marlyssa declared.

Sari briefly squeezed Marlyssa’s hand within her own. “A priceless quote right there. Primed and ready to join the list.”

Marlyssa caressed Sari’s palm with her thumb in reply. “Put it next to your future golem designs. Those you will base on the two style queens that graced us with their presence today.”

Sari let out a giggle. “I taught you well.”



******




The might of the evening, eventually, hit.
Cold, but not fresh; the wind was too penetrating to bother being inviting, but Sari remained motionless anyway, staring at her closed shop.
A dozen more clients had followed Killian, she estimated, making this particular day a rather tame one. Sari didn’t remember the exact number, but she did recall that most of them were completely unfamiliar faces. It seemed as though Sari attracted the sort of people curious enough to travel miles and miles solely to discover her ubiquitous uniqueness — which her shop, clearly, was but an extension of.
With a blink and a shiver, Sari left her train of thought. Looking to her left, her eyes met Marlyssa’s, who simply stood there. Waiting.

“You know what I realized?” Sari said. “I was wrong. I was wrong, all these years ago. I was wrong to tell him that he would, then and forever, disappear from my life. Brynden ended up becoming one of the most important parts of my life, and it’s all because I chose to let that matter.” a smile. “I don’t regret it, of course. That Sari was right in her present, but wrong in the future — and all because of herself. I’m just… This… This thing that I’m doing. This contemplation of the past with the knowledge of the future, while remaining in complete agreement with both. I suppose I wonder if that’s what wisdom feels like.”

Marlyssa stared on, unblinking. “I adore the journey that made you my bell.” she declared after a thoughtful silence. “But I don’t believe I’m qualified to echo your concerns the way you can with mine. I speak this tongue well, largely thanks to you; but some of the intricacies of your mind are still difficult for me.” Stepping in front of Sari, Marlyssa bent her knees, gently poking her nose as their eyes met. “Give me time. And keep spreading your thoughts my way.”

Sari felt a vibrant twang resound in her chest as she lost herself within the golden-eyed glare of Marlyssa. “...Have I ever thanked you for allowing me these moments while you stay by my side?” Sari quietly asked.

“Not with your voice.” Marlyssa replied. “But, that does not bother me. I know you appreciate it.”

“I truly do. It helps me function.” silence. “Shall we go? We have an hour before Maiko arrives. Moment for which I know you’d be delighted to practice a little bit more.”

A soul-melting smile took shape on Marlyssa’s face. “Thank you.”

Side by side, the duo joined the moving crowd at last, guided by the stern city lights under which they bathed, making their way back home towards gentle darkness.
"Is there a limit to how much living I can live with my life? How will I know if I've gone too far?
And why did I spend my life savings on sunglasses for a whale?
I shall find the answers... to these questions."








Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream.
— Mark Twain