#nox.start

[dearlumos]

location : parkinson & flint III wedding ( event 046 ) open to : all ! ( @startertms )

events with her family were not part of her favorite past time, sure she was well practiced in it but she did not choose to begin splitting her time between worlds solely to please her fawley family. so, instead of arriving with her family as a whole like they intended, nisrine opted to arrive separately. even with all that considered, she would be lying if she’d voiced any distaste for this event — she hasn’t, of course and would save said words for the special couple to hear personally, if she had any. instead, she plans to observe and enjoy as much as she can — they do have a free bar, right?

just like that, the universe had answered her silent question, with a small turn of her chin — there it was. . the bar. her eyes lit up, her smile matching as brims etched upward at the sight. perfectly manicured digits drummed lightly against the bar top. ‘ espresso martini, please. ’

her attention draws to her side as she awaits the martini, eyes drawing towards the person standing beside her. “ are you here for the bride, the groom or both ? ”

[burnedglory]

location: outside of brigg’s brooms in diagon ally, london

open starter, anyone is welcome to reply!

if anyone were to ask him why he was here, ron wouldn’t be able to come up with an answer. he’d likely fumble over his words and his cheeks and ears would tinge red with embarrassment. he had no reason to shop for a new broomstick. it wasn’t like flying was a hobby of his, and he hadn’t played a proper quidditch game in ages. plus, he had his old broom stuffed in his closet at his flat. ron used to have harry’s as well, but he gave that back to his friend after he returned from the dead. still, he had been strolling down diagon ally’s streets, and seeing brigg’s brooms brought back so many memories.

memories as a child, tagging along as charlie, then percy, then fred and george, and finally himself, got to go to diagon ally and pick up school supplies . . . he’d always run straight over to brigg’s brooms, where he was standing now. he’d press his face and palms right up against the glance, his eyes comically wide as he observed the best, fastest new brooms on the market. for the rest of the year, he’d talk about it constantly, until the next visit where he saw the next broom. it’d been a simpler time . . . at least for him . . . until things with voldemort got really serious. now, everything was a mess. he was a mess.

ron was so deep into his thoughts that he didn’t notice that there was another person heading his way until they bumped into his shoulder.

[chacswins]

Tap. Tap. Tap.

All Damien could focus on was the gentle tapping of his fingers on the bookshelf. He was looking for a book in particular, one for research, yet he completely forgot it. Physically he was there, mentally he was a million miles away. His eyes had a thousand yard stare until he managed to feel the presence of someone around him.

"Don't bother." He says after collecting himself. "It's all shit picks here, anyway."

[rebuildeds]

LOCATION : hogwarts grounds TIME : just after the speeches, may 2nd FEATURING : open ! @startertms

it's  a  sting  to  be  back  here.  clementine  had  come  every  year,  stayed  for  the  full  length  of  the  memorial  weekend,  until  they  lost  judith.  the  last  couple  of  years  since,  she'd  stayed  for  a  day  but  somehow  it  felt  disrespectful.  both  to  judy  and to  those  who  had  been  lost  before  –  for  the  former,  it  felt  like  no  one  had  the  space  or  will  to  acknowledge  her  loss,  and  for  the  latter  it  felt  inappropriate  to even  want  to  mention  judy.  it  was  a  lose-lose  all  around.  this  year,  well,  she's  trying  to  do  better.  the  solidarity  that  went  into  this  event  was  so  vital  in  the  first  few  years  after  the  war,  and  there's  a  part  of  her  desperate  to  re-capture  that.

the  final  speech  is  finished  up,  and  the  crowd  is  slowly  moving  towards  the  great  hall  for  the  feast.  clem  walks  slower  than  usual,  her  body  filled  with  fatigue.  her  eyes  are  pinned  to  the  grass,  but  she  still  manages  to  not  fully  watch  where  her  feet  are  going  until  she  realises  she's  trodden  on  the  back  of  someone's  shoe.  it's  a  talent  !      “  oh  merlin,  sorry.  ”   she  calls  over  their  shoulder,  forcing  some  pep  into  her  voice.   “  should  be  looking  where  i'm  going.  ”

[veriidicals]

the job was simple enough. even if it was only ever contained to the businesses around diagon and itʻs connecting alleys, for the businesses who could afford for gringottʻs quality cursebreaking. the easy thrill of it was enough to have bill looking forward to it all year long. it was like clockwork: someone or other received some sort of heirloom for christmas and immediately following into the new years—with all it’s resolutions and cleaning—foisted it on some unfortunate pawn shop to spare themselves the hassle of trying to match great aunt hildegardʻs vase with their current furniture. the fun of it was when the vases weren’t just vases. ❝ iʻd be careful if i were you, ❞ he warns, voice mired in amusement even as he nimbly plucks a rather unfortunate looking brooch out of hand-reach, just in the nick of time. the dragonhide gloves are his only saving grace, and even those start steaming at the places of contact with the silver of the jewelry piece. not so pretty an end result. ❝ nasty bit of anti-theft warding. banned now, but probably not when this little darling was commissioned. ❞ he explains, not bothering to hide any of the interest that leaks into his consonance. it was the habit, the vice, to dig his teeth onto the exciting bits of magic, especially when those bits of magic bit back. the brooch gets slipped into an acromantula silk-lined bag, with all the nullifying properties: a specialty of the goblins, who knew how to manipulate magic in ways that wixen could hardly grasp at. ❝ might i suggest those lovely little earrings over in the corner ? they should be in the clear. ❞ the grin that crosses his face is an honest attempt at trustworthy: sales associate charm for all that heʻs never actually been in sales. ❝ checked ʻem myself. promise. ❞

[oncebluemoons]

open location: diagon alley @startertms

the late afternoon light stretches long shadows across the cobblestones of diagon alley. lisa walks around with no real purpose, hands tucked deep into the warmth of her coat, the familiar hum of the street washing over her. she used to come here with intent, with lists, with plans. now, she just wanders, a little aimless in her steps. she slows in front of a window display, gaze settling on the robes displayed behind the glass. the laces and the satins catching her fancy for a brief moment. her breath fogs the window, a momentary veil before movement shifts in the reflection. she turns, meeting the other's gaze. “nice to see you here. anything in particular you’re looking for here?” her voice is softer now. “or just searching for something you haven’t named yet like me?”

[acciodreamland]

Gail Ollivander (Starter) 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: diagon alley. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: open ( @startertms ) Gail had sat down for a drink in the leaky cauldron, eyes cautiously scanning the room. They’d already been greeted by a plethora of names and faces that they somewhat recognized, all greeting them warmly with the familiarity of being old friends. They doubted any of the patrons of the bar knew them as friends, but responded to them in a manner that didn’t immediately send them away. After all, having fans was a big part of their role as a musician, and they knew that anything they did would go to the press if they made a mess of it. Sliding into a seat at the bar, they took their butterbeer and gave it a short sip. 

“Do you come here often?” they asked the person next to them, trying to hide their disgust at the drink. Not everyone knew they were a vampire, and it typically caused a panic when they were recognized as one. Of course, there were rumors, but they hadn’t been proven. A manicured hand tapped the table, nails sharp and painted a maroon red.

[med1rigby]

𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: st mungos. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: open to all ( @startertms ) !!

whilst most holidays were quiet upsetting for gwendolyn, she always found new life during the christmas period - often seeing the end of another year as a new start from the year's troubles and tribulations - even now as she continues with her work. placing down her clipboard on the reception desk, the veteran mediwitch reaches over to the pot of candycanes to sneak one out for a momentary sugar-spike - she was entering her ninth hour of her shift and was simply counting down each minute now. "nothing beats the refreshing sweetness of a candy cane, hm?" a satisfied hum passes by her lips before smiling at the nurse at the desk, spinning only to be met with a potential patient, a candy cane hanging half out of her mouth. "oh, hello there."

[hcldmybroom]

𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: the campground, post game !! 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: open !!

celebrations and commiserations alike were spread out after the game, whether privately or around the campgrounds, and minette was never one to turn down a good party. her throat was already hoarse from the screaming and hollering she had done during the match, but who needed a voice when your skills on the dancefloor spoke for themselves (not great, but having a good time). in the moment, minette grabs the hands of the nearest person and pulls them to her, bringing them into the throng of the makeshift dancefloor. "come on! get movin' will you!"

[hopcflowered]

𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: st mungos, interior !! 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: open !!

"don't touch that." her voice is firm yet hoarse as she stirs from her sleep, the footsteps that approached her bedside pulling her from the dreamless slumber the medi witch had induced hours prior. the wound on her head throbbed as she made to move, features scrunched up in a mixture of pain and confusion and anger as her body carefully shuffles up the bed until she is sitting up. pressing slender fingers to the bandage wrapped around her head, eyes willing to open as her other hand gestured to the crooked crepe paper flowers in the cleaned out soup tin. "s-sorry. i thought you were gonna take them as well . . . basil made them."

[amarcttos]

* 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘: open starter ! * 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: simmer & shimmer apothecary !

"⸻ i'll be with you in a second," the soft voice can be heard from the distance, prompted by the chime of the door bell. it takes only about a minute for them to walk out the backroom, customer service smile already in place as they greet the potential patron. "anything i can help you with? wolfsbane potion bottles are fifteen percent off at the moment, included with its own chaser of your preference" all in light of recent events, her personal way of helping while still making some galleons. "...and calming draughts are almost done brewing if you don't mind waiting a couple minutes."

[dearlumos]

open to anyone @startertms

Nisrine sat at the bar, the soft clink of glassware and quiet hum of conversation in the background as she took a slow sip from her drink. She'd arrived early to meet her aunt for drinks— besides, it gave her a chance to savor the quiet before the evening's inevitable energy kicked in. She glanced at the clock on the wall, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. It wasn’t unusual for her aunt to be late, but Nisrine couldn’t help but smile to herself, wondering how many more minutes she'd have to kill before that familiar face appeared. The door opened, and a figure slid onto the stool beside her. Nisrine turned, the corners of her lips curving upward. "Was starting to think you'd forgotten about our little drink," she said, only to blink, her smile faltering slightly. "Oh, you're not—" She paused, raising an eyebrow, as her gaze shifted, trying to place the person next to her.

[bemyhcro]

𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: leaky cauldron. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: open to all ( @startertms ) !!

a day off was rare for paxton, but with the arrival of winterfest and the overarching theme of christmas, he opted for a day of annual leave to work through his deafening thoughts. to keep himself fresh and awake, he sits with his third cup of black coffee - he's sure he will be cut off any minute and will have to sneak off back home for an extra fix - in the corner of the leaky cauldron, a tattered book spread out in front of him on the table. the surface of the table is covered from clippings, letters and photographs pulled from the book. the pictures show a variety of people, from a young paxton and his mum to a girl with a toothless grin being lifted onto a teenage paxton's shoulders. his sister. the cause of all his current mental war. the pub was fairly quiet for midday, yet he spots a hand in the corner of his eye reaching for the chair opposite him and he looks up finally, flicking a hand lazily towards the seat. "take a seat."

[chacswins]

"Oh, what the fuck." Is mumbled with the eloquence and subtlety of a bull in a glass shop. Damien Graves is not one for good decision making. Figures he would show back up into town just in time for the love holiday, the universe had a knack for that hilarity. Shops decked out with hearts and so much red and pink - so much - his head hurt. "How ridiculous."

[parvatiip]

location: a café nestled somewhere in diagon alley status: open (@startertms)

Parvati lingered quietly before taking a seat at the corner café table, quill, ink, and empty parchment practically tumbling from her arms as they splayed out in front of her. Words continued to evade her today as her mind settled into the sounds of buzzy conversation and the gentle clinks of floating coffee cups settling at their proper table. After inspiration had largely failed to strike while at her stuffy desk at at the Prophet Office, Parvati was hopeful a change of scenery might inspire a more promising pitch for her Sunday article.

Glancing around the café, Parvati’s eyes land on a figure sitting at the nearest table. Amidst the bustle, she arches an intrigued brow, eyes locking in on their every move. She'd learned early on in writing career that inspiration for her best articles came from a place of truth and more often than not, truth seemed to be found hiding in plain sight.

When the figure catches her eye, Parvati doesn't look away, but rather breaks into an soft, albeit, inviting smile, "Don't mind me. I was just trying to figure out what to order." She shakes her head, "Any suggestions? I promise I don't judge."

[fortnas]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽:  diagon alley   !

emotionally, he handles the charmed birthday card about as well as one would expect. after tearing into the envelopes of four bills and two advertisements best classed 'junk mail', the heavy parchment covering on it is a welcome change, a flood of relief that quickly evaporates when he opens it up and it begins to sing - shrilly. he closes it. it doesn't stop. he opens it again - long enough to read that he had george to thank for his new hell, but taking in nothing else of the paragraph written inside - and in one, angry movement, lip curled, tears it into several pieces. when it still doesn't stop its singing, the bin where half of his other letters ended up is where he aims for, though he's so flustered by the noise ( and the attention he's now self conscious of it attracting ) that a number of the sections end up scattered on the cobble. "bollocks-" he huffs, bending down to grab them and taking the slowing footsteps of another as an immediately bad sign, "- i'm picking it up, alright ? give me a bloody second-"