#c:marlene mckinnon

[swearwolfx-archive]

Marlene had been left out from this particular mission, the why unclear, but these days a lot of things Dumbldore did were a bit unclear to him. Halting his mission with the werewolves for the moment hadn’t won him any favors with their leader but his friends had urged caution, citing what happened to Peter, worried he was getting in too deep. But it wasn’t like the regular work was really less dangerous, but there at least he had backup, it didn’t prevent injury though. He was sure Marlene had heard about it, though he hadn’t told her as of yet, he had always been used to pain and injury and tended to downplay it, not wanting anyone to worry over him. 

Remus met her at the requested location, somewhere they frequented and was out of the wizarding world’s eye. As he rounded the corner he spotted Marlene seeming lost in thought, grabbing one french fry after another as if out of habit, not even realizing. A soft smile appeared on his lips as he pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. “Careful Marls, might lose a finger like that,” he teased leaning over to take a fry from the basket, popping it into his mouth. “Something wrong? Your owl wasn’t very specific, not that I mind meeting up, you know I'm always happy to see you,” he assured, quickly establishing the focus off himself.

Interventions are not exactly Marlene’s thing- reaching out to others and reaching out to check on them is really not a thing she does. Usually, she is on the other side of it and she is sure that she might need one most times, maybe even now with the fact she has been getting a shift after shift, and barely letting herself proccess what has been happening. Her family’s death has effected her more than she had let herself show it, and even now, she found herself looking for many reason to not be interested in talking about it or processing it in any other form than anger.

There were people that it was easy to be around, and easy to not feel like she needs to keep everything in- and she was the one worried for a change. Turth to be told, she was always worried about Remus- it was never a obvious worry, but innerly somewhere, she had always wanted to make sure he is alright. So, she did what she knew best: with no reason, she had owled him and told him to meet at this muggle restaurant they sometimes meet at. They have the best fries in Marlene’s opinion- so, as she was waiting for Remus to appear, she had a basket of fries in front of her and mindlessly ate one at a time as she waited for him. 

// @swearwolfx​

[xsiriuslyblack]

Location: Marlene's Flat Time: 8pm With: @mck-tt-n

With all that was going on people often seemed to think that frivolity and fun didn’t have a place anymore but they couldn’t be more wrong. You couldn’t be afraid and worried all the time or you would drive yourself insane, you had to be able to blow off so steam and still live your life even through the bad times. People always scoffed at the saying ‘laughter is the best medicine’ but he believed in it wholeheartedly. It released the stress, made you feel lighter and forget your worries even if just for a moment. Laughing was good for your health in his opinion. So were...other methods of destressing. So whichever way tonight went he would be nicely de-stressed.

Sirius showed up at Marlene’s door at eight on the dot the promised fire whiskey’s in hand. He shifted them both to one hand so he could knock on her door, leaning against the frame as he waited hearing her footsteps draw near. A grin appeared on his lips when it finally swung open. “Evening,” he greeted stepping inside as she moved to the side. “So, did you hide my shrine and any other incriminating evidence, or were you just finishing your primping?” he questioned playfully while he plopped down onto the couch making himself at home. “Firewhiskey as promised,” he held up one of the bottles to her placing the other on the table.

[cinders-at-midnight]

"There's no winning this war, not with how the Ministry is so tightly wound around the fingers of those devils and death eaters."

"No, as long as there's someone there to fight, we still got something."

"You're a gambler, Marlene, you know how to take bets and calculate the odds, that something we have is barely anything at all."

"I know."

"So why are you doing this?"

"Because the lower the odds the higher the rewards. The probability of us winning are slim, but I'll take that ghost of a chance, if it means that the reward is a future that's untouched and uncorrupted by the madness that's seeping into our present and has already contaminated our past."

[florencegoldstein]

Cold Wind Whispering [Flashback] | Marlence

O barulho do contato entre o pequeno salto do sapato preto de Florence com o chão de pedra do corredor do primeiro andar, proveniente do andar apressado da gryffindor, ficava mascarado em meio a conversas indistintas dos alunos que terminavam sua última aula daquela quinta-feira e, em sua maioria, dirigiam-se a seus respectivos Salões Comunais. Contra o fluxo de estudantes, era possível avistar os fios loiros e lisos de Florence Goldstein, que rumava para sala do zelador Filch. Devido a um pequeno acidente na aula de Poções, em que se distraíra no preparo de uma po��ão e acabara explodindo o caldeirão, ela e sua azarada dupla que não teve culpa nenhuma no acidente, Marlene McKinnon, foram agraciadas com uma detenção nada agradável: organizar e passar a limpo o registro de detenções aplicadas no ano passado.

Por um lado, seria bom passar o tempo com uma de suas melhores amigas, já que com certeza tinham muito a conversar acerca dos acontecimentos recentes de ambas loiras. Era difícil que ficassem sozinhas, visto que o Salão Comunal sempre tinha algum dos marauders e o dormitório feminino tinha alguma outra garota setimanista, e o assunto que Florence tinha a tratar com Marlene era delicado a ponto de não querer que ninguém mais ouvisse sobre. Já bastasse a confusão que estava em sua cabeça – e tinha certeza que a amiga poderia ajudar com isso -, não queria mais uma voz feminina aconselhando e dando mais ideias. Chegou, finalmente, na sala em que fora marcada a detenção aplicada por Slughorn com cinco minutos de antecedência e teve tempo apenas de recostar-se na parede fria antes de avistar Marlene vindo pelo corredor oposto. – Ao mesmo tempo que sinto muito por ter te colocado nessa roubada que foi culpa inteiramente minha, - iniciou, levantando as mãos em sinal de desculpas, quando a colega gryffindor estava perto o suficiente para lhe ouvir – preciso mesmo de um tempo feminino com você.

[an-arrogant-toerag-blog]

marlenemcknickers replied to your post: How is it that I seem to see you less while at Hogwarts then I did over summer?

And I need my dose of my mop-headed mate! It’s been weird not seeing you around.

Are you admitting to missing me, Marls?

[cinders-at-midnight]

Taking a #mirrorselfie before going out! Prowling the streets of #London for a bit of #fun and then it's off to work. So if any of my lovely followers see me around, feel free to say 'Hi!'

#marleymckay

---

To muggles across the globe, Marley McKay is a 25 year old instagram model who has it all. Thousands of followers, a fun fashion blog, and great taste in everything from books to coffee to restaurants.

They don't realize that this cultivated mask is the result of boredom and the clausterphobic fear that at any given moment the world around her would and could end without warning. These pictures, this life, they're nothing but a lie - a false mirror - that Marlene McKinnon has created to tell herself that one day she could be okay.

#MarleyMcKay was a normal girl living a normal life in London. She graduated from Oxford with a degree in Journalism and freelances for various magazines while managing her instagram and blog.

Marlene McKinnon, on the other hand, was a soldier in a war that was a far-cry from "normal."

[cinders-at-midnight]

"I don't silence my demons. I spar with them. Wrestle them down and push their faces into the dirt while they fight back with their claws, teeth, and every ounce of breath they could muster. But once it's all said and done, the both of us - my demons and I - we get up off the ground, brush the dust from our jackets, and pull up chairs around a rickety wooden table. Each of us would have our pints, maybe a round of cards or two, as cigarette smoke fills our lungs. Then we'd sit in contemplative silence, reviewing each other's strengthes and weaknesses, so that the next time we fight maybe finally one of us would win. But we know, we both know, that winning will never come and was never the point of these fights. Because, you see, I don't wish to banish my demons, my flaws, my sins.

Oh no.

Not at all.

Not when I have learned that my demons are what makes me me and that although the choices I make are what defines my virtues... it is within the sins of my character that I have the sword and armor to fight against the devils that roam the streets of London."

- Marlene McKinnon

[cinders-at-midnight]

Joining the Order of Phoenix meant three things:

# 1. No one's safety was guaranteed # 2. Loving someone doesn't mean being able to see them all the time # 3. Relationships built to last could easily disappear

Marlene McKinnon learned that it also meant a fourth thing:

# 4. The meaning of "home" changes entirely

Because four walls and a roof a home does not make, even if it contains his favorite mug, CDs, and those stuffed animals he won for her at the local fair. Because four walls and a room a home does not make, even if the rumpled sheets of their futon still smelled of his sweat and cologne. Because four walls and a roof could only mean shelter from the physical storms that rage during the London winter, but not from the raging hurricane of shadows lurking in the dark and whispers of a war waiting just beneath the surface of peaceful waters.

Marlene McKinnon learned that "home" for her was the crackle of static as she scanned the radio, searching for a station that no ordinary folks could find. Once she found it, it's sitting back into the seat of her beat up old Ford and closing her eyes to count the seconds before she could hear the sound of his voice on the radio.

"This song goes out to Marley McKay, you know who you are, I love you, babe."

And she'd smile and know that he's safe.

And as long as he was safe, she was home.

[florencegoldstein]

mckinnonns respondeu a sua postagem: Remus beija bem?

Wait a second, you didn’t even deny it. Spill it out, Flor, com certeza é do meu interesse.

I-... Do I really have to, Marley? Será que se eu negar que aconteceu se torna verdade? Já li sobre isso uma vez.

[florencegoldstein]

[Flashback] Fire burn, and caldron bubble. | Florence & Marlene

Mesmo tendo se habituado às aulas nas Masmorras, Florence ainda franzia o cenho toda vez que tinha aula de Poções. Não por ser um desastre na matéria, o que ela não era, mas sim pelo comportamento dos Slytherin no local. Quase sempre, ouvia alguma menção nada educada ao seu status de sangue, principalmente porque, naquele ano, Gryffindor e Slytherin dividiam a sala de aula, o que resultava em algumas horas que Florence aguentava seus nervos para não falar nada que rendesse alguma detenção ou pior, que tirasse pontos da sua Casa. Naquela quarta-feira do inverno de 1977, sexto ano de Goldstein na Escola de Magia e Bruxaria, estava decidida a ignorar por completo tudo que falassem e apenas concentrar-se em fazer corretamente a poção que fora pedida por Professor Slughorn por um simples motivo: o prêmio era um frasco de Felix Felicis.

Não tinha um motivo em especial para querer a tão almejada poção, mas queria ver a diferença que um pouco de sorte faria em um dia normal, como todos que já experimentaram usar a Felix explanavam. Assim que receberam as instruções de preparar a Poção Wiggenweld e também que deveriam formar duplas, Florence logo olhou para a loira que estava sentada ao seu lado, Marlene Mckinnon. Elas se conheciam antes de Marlene ter mudado para a turma de Florence por ter praticamente ter faltado todas as aulas de um ano, mas somente depois que a mais velha juntou-se ao grupo que a amizade realmente firmou-se. Ambas tinham opiniões fortes, não aceitavam desaforos, gostavam de aproveitar a vida e, por isso, se davam muito bem dentro e fora – principalmente – da sala de aula.

Assim, logo depois de ter recebido o olhar de volta da amiga, juntaram-se em uma bancada com um caldeirão de bronze tamanho padrão 2 à frente e Florence pegou o livro Nome do Livro em sua mochila. – Vamos ganhar esse negócio, Marls. – Dirigiu-se à amiga, empolgada para começar logo. Tinha certeza que Mckinnon também queria a Felix – quem não queria? Localizou a poção mencionada e começou a ler os ingredientes – Casca de Wiggentree, muco de verme gosmento, Ditamno, Moly -, murmurando-os quase que inaudivelmente. Aparentemente, era fácil de ser preparada e, portanto, ganharia quem fosse o mais rápido, já que sabia que diversos alunos da Slytherin conseguiam prepará-la com maestria. – Certo, você pega a casca e o musco e eu Ditamno e Moly. – Decidiu, assumindo, inconscientemente, a liderança da dupla. Voltou, depois da visita ao estoque de ingredientes, com tudo que devia à mãos.