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mybeingthere · 4 months

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Emily Kame Kngwarreye (1910 – 1996) is considered one of Australias most significant artists. Amazingly, she only began painting with acrylics in her late seventies but in a few short years became an artist of national and international standing.

Emily was the first female painter to emerge from an art movement dominated by men and did so in a way that transformed Aboriginal painting. Employing a variety of styles over the course of her eight-year painting career, she painted her Country and sacred Dreamtime stories in a deeply emotional and expressive manner.

She was born around 1910 at Alhalkere (Soakage Bore), on the edge of the Utopia pastoral station, approximately 250km north-east of Alice Springs. Alhalkere was her fathers Country, and her mothers Country was Alhalpere, just to the east.

Despite being married twice, she had no children of her own but raised her relative Lily Sandover Kngwarreye and her niece Barbara Weir. Both becoming famous artists in their own right. Other nieces that also became famous artists include Gloria Petyarre, Kathleen Petyarre, Ada Bird Petyarre, Violet Petyarre and Nancy Petyarre.

Well before she became one of its most senior contemporary artists, Emily held a unique status within her community of Utopia. Her strong personality and past employment as a stock hand on pastoral properties in the area (at a time when women were only employed for domestic duties), reveals her forceful independence and trailblazing character.

Her age and ceremonial status also made her a senior member of the Anmatyerre language group. She was a senior custodian of cultural sites of her fathers country. She was considered the Boss Woman of the Alatyeye (pencil yam dreaming) and Kame (yam seed dreaming).

Emily started as a traditional ceremonial artist, beginning painting as a young woman as part of her cultural education. An important component of this education was learning the womens ceremonies, which are associated with in-depth knowledge of the Dreamtime stories and of womens social structures.

This knowledge is known as Awelye in Anmatyerre language. Awelye also refers to the intricate designs and symbols associated with womens rituals. These are applied to the womens upper chest, breasts and arms using fingers or brushes dipped into rich desert ochres.

Aboriginal art outside of ceremonial painting began in Utopia in 1977, when batik-making was introduced to women as part of an extended government-funded education program. In 1978, Emily was a founding member of the Utopia Womens Batik Group. In 1988, the Central Australian Aboriginal Media Association (CAAMA) completed its first project with the Utopia Womens Batik Group. This became an exhibition called Utopia - A Picture Story.

From the beginning, Emilys art stood out from the others. Rather than filling her batiks with Aboriginal symbols, she preferred patterns of layered lines and dots that revealed plant, figurative forms and cell like structures. The 88 silk batiks from this first project were acquired by the Holmes a Court Collection in Perth.

In the same year the CAAMA shop initiated The Summer Project, introducing the Utopia womens batik group to the use of acrylic paints on canvas. Among the 81 paintings completed was Emilys first artwork on canvas, Emu Woman.

Inspired by the many Dreamtime stories of which she was a custodian, Emily employed an extraordinary array of styles over the course of her eight-year painting career.

In her early works, Emily preferred the use of an earthy ochre colour palette, reflecting her experience of using natural ochres during ceremonies. Over time she expanded her repertoire to include a dazzling array of colours found in the desert landscape. Colours are significant in her paintings. Yellow, for example, often symbolises the season when the desert earth begins to dry up and the Kame (yam seeds) are ripe.

Her shifting styles also reveal her self-confidence and willingness to experiment with form, pictorial space and artistic conventions. She drew creatively from the geographic landmarks that traverse her Country and the Dreaming stories that define it. Whenever she was asked to explain her paintings, her answer was always the same:

Whole lot, that's the whole lot. Awelye (my Dreamings), Alatyeye (pencil yam), Arkerrthe (mountain devil lizard), Ntange (grass seed), Tingu (a Dreamtime pup), Ankerre (emu), Intekwe (a favorite food of emus, a small plant), Atnwerle (green bean), and Kame (yam seed). That's what I paint; the whole lot.

This is because she chose to present a very broad picture of the land and how it supports the Anmatyerre way of life. Her artworks embrace the whole life story of the Dreamtime, seeds, flowers, wind, sand and everything. Although her works relate to the modern art tradition, this resemblance is purely visual. The emphasis in Emilys paintings is on the spiritual meaning, based in the tradition of her people.

The evolving styles of Emily Kame Kngwarreyes paintings

Emily started to paint in 1988. Her early style featured visible linear tracings following the tracks of the Kame (Yam Dreaming) and animal prints associated with the Emu Dreaming. Fields of fine dots partially obscured symbolic elements.

By 1992 her paintings were so densely packed with layers of dots that her symbolic underpainting was no longer visible.

Another evolution in her painting style occurred when she began to use large brushes. She worked faster, more loosely and on a larger scale. Sometimes dragging the brush while she dotted, producing lines from the sequential dots.

By the mid 1990s she had pioneered a style of Aboriginal painting referred to as dub dub works. They were created by using large brushes which were laden with paint and then pushed into the canvas in such a way that the bristles part and the paint is mixed on the canvas.

Using this technique, she created wildly colourful artworks and her paintings became progressively more abstract. Different artists from Utopia including Polly Ngale and Freddy Purla have subsequently adopted this style.

During the last two years of her life, she used the linear patterns found on womens ceremonial body designs as the primary inspiration for her paintings. The abstracted sequential dots of colour gave way to parallel lines which were much more formally arranged. She had used lines earlier before gradually submerging them under layers of dots. This time, she created simple, bold compositions of parallel lines in strong dark colours.

The above style in turn evolved to looser meandering lines which appear to trace the shapes of the grasses and the roots of the pencil yam as they forge their way through the desert sands.

In 1996 she produced a body of work in which she depicted pencil yam dreaming using a rich ochre colour palette. In this final burst of creative energy, Emily produced a beautiful body of work known as her scribble phase. In these atmospheric paintings, lines and dots were replaced by flowing fields of colour.

https://www.kateowengallery.com/.../Emily-Kame-Kngwarreye...

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noxtms · 6 months

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THE FULL MOON HANGS HIGH OVER THE CAMPGROUNDS, silvery light cast over the neverending festivities down below. anyone under the illusion that the hogsmeade hippogriffs vs diagon dragons charity quidditch game would wrap up in good time and lead to a relaxing night away was sorely mistaken. in spite of the late hour, the celebrations - and for some, the drowning of sorrows - show no sign of stopping anytime soon. the burren is an isolated spot, even without factoring in the huge number of muggle deterrent charms and protective incantations cast over the area for one night only. wix who traveled from overseas or across the country have a rare freedom and are taking full advantage - it's equal parts loud and unruly, and the best fun that many have had since winter came. put enough people in a place and throw in copious amounts of alcohol ( and in a number of cases, something much stronger ) and you'll have trouble, but robed aurors that wander the crowds are quick to combat drunken disputes they happen across which in turn is allowing the more easygoing of partygoers to enjoy their night all the more. expectations were rather low, but the event is running better than anyone could have expected. MURPHY MCNULLY of the wizarding wireless network is one of the unlucky number to have thrown in his lot with the hippogriffs. a schoolyard crush on rolanda hooch blinded him when it came to the bettering slips, and the modest fortune that he lost had been enough to make this grown man cry - quite a bit, actually, until a kind soul pressed a half empty bottle of firewhiskey into his hands and he started the process of acceptance. he's been making his way from tent to tent ( which is, in turn, like moving from party to party ) all night, accepting the kindness of strangers and moving on when their generosity runs dry. it's no wonder the poor guy needs the bathroom, but when the closest porta potty queue looks much too daunting for him and a quick glance around tells him that no one is paying that much mind to him, murphy darts between tents and heads for the edge of the campgrounds. he stumbles over the uneven terrain of the burren, picking his way to a suitable distance and coming to a stop at an ancient, waist high stone wall. the cacophony of music and laughter and all round good cheer hides the sound of a zipper, and murphy tries to sing along to one of the songs he recognises in the din, as he goes - he's so drunk the words run together, but he's having a mighty good time. bladder emptied, he zips himself back up, now humming, and hears a low grumble. his stomach, he thinks. "too full of firewhiskey," he laughs to himself, too drunk to take much notice of the hairs stood up at the back of his neck, "not enough soakage." he turns to go, and there it is again. the telltale grumble. or… he frowns. a growl? he twists back around, and the last thing that murphy mcnully sees before the world turns wet and red is two yellow eyes glinting in the moonlight and the flash of jaws full of huge, pointy teeth. it lunges, and on a nearby hill another wolf lifts their head to the sky to let out a mournful howl, and the pack descends.

TRIGGER WARNINGS for death, injury, animal death, anxiety, assault, blood, body imagery, fire imagery, gore.

the gathered crowds confuse the first screams of abject terror for more joyful rowdiness, only realising the nightmare they have stumbled into when they catch their first glimpse of the wolves that move with inhuman speed - the teeth, the eyes, the stinking, matted fur. worse, still ( if only because the horror of them is so much easier to digest in the moment ) are the hooded figures that begin to pop up from place to place. as if things weren't already bad, the death eaters have arrived. the smart ones apparate without a second thought. MARCUS, at one end of the campground, is gone with a pop before the situation has fully sunken into their alcohol adled mind. others, like the MALFOY'S, rush out of their tents in their nightclothes, disoriented, and take a second to let it all wash over them. they disappear, too, but only after they've grabbed their peacocks.

it really is just VIKTOR'S luck that he would put himself out there and run into one of the more unfortunate cases of deja vu. bleary eyed when he emerges from his tent, he only narrowly avoids the vivid purple spell that sails over his head and collides with a cabinet inside, sending wood splinters and glass scattering and waking DAMARIS from where they dozed. the next curse draws blood when it grazes his arm and he drops to the ground, the same as his unlikely companion who has slid all the way off his couch and thrown their hands protectively over their head, kneeling in the shattered glass. "what the fuck is happening?" they shout, but viktor doesn't know.

ANDIE, holding her crying son in her arms, abandons the fire pit when a misjudged protective spell explodes into the middle of it, sending sparks flying over all that had gathered around. she gets caught up in the sea of wix stampeding in one direction and can't immediately find an opening to get out or a safe space to apparate.

following their immediate instinct to just duck and take cover beneath a closed up, wooden stall ultimately does TEMPEST no good ; they're smart, but the penchant for utter, mindless destruction that the death eaters have trumps that every time. one of the hooded figures hits the wooden structure with expulso, not even to target them but just because it adds to the growing chaos. they only realise someone is cowering underneath it when the now brightly burning, collapsing structure draws a shrill scream from the wix caught below.

throwing up an invisible block in the doorway of their tent the minute that chaos unfolded was definitely a good idea and saves them some initial trouble, but DUDLEY is the first to realise the other sort of danger that they have landed themselves into when smoke starts billowing out from the rooms at the back of the tent. "GINNY-" he starts, wide eyed and taking several steps back, whatever warning he was going to give interrupted by her shout of "fuck!" as she rushes past him, leaving DRACO alone to hold the barrier in place. her cry of aguamenti does little to douse the flames she can only barely see through thick, black smoke. she tries to put them out in vain while it continues to funnel into the tent, stinging their eyes and coating their lungs with every breath, until dudley grabs her upper arm and tugs her away. "it's no use," he tells her, through a cough, "we have to leave." he's right, of course. arms held over their mouths as they return to the front of the tent, a bead of sweat runs down draco's forehead from both rising heat and the pressure of holding the barrier, alone. "ready to go?" he asks them, to no reply ; ginny grabs a hand each, and they disappear with a pop.

assuming that JUSTIN is close at their heels and with ISMENE holding tightly to her hand, ANTIGONE'S only thought is to get back to her van and get her dog. they were among the lucky ones - they hadn't been caught up at the heart of the campgrounds when everything went to hell, and has instead been hanging around the edges of the parties. they were ready to head back and get some sleep, but unwilling to be the first to leave. they are both so full of hope, so close to where they parked in the carpark when antigone turns to glance over her shoulder that it feels so stupid to stop at all, though of course they were always going to when she realises, with a jolt, that justin isn't behind them after all. ismene tries to tug her on as she opens her mouth to shout for him, but everything moves so fast - a furred body launches itself over a ford fiesta and lands heavy on top of them both, jaws snapping, and what comes out of her next is nothing but a wordless scream.

limping from an ankle that he twisted in his haste to get through the panicked crowd, OSKAR meets ELIZA at the flap of her tent and shoves her all the way back in again. "is elena-" with her fingers now knotted up in the sleeve of his shirt, she shakes her head. it's a relief. her husband appears in a doorway with a barely awake ezra holding on tight around his neck, face buried in his shoulder. "is it-" he begins to ask, but oskar interrupts, "it's bad. we have to go." a ground shaking explosion at that exact moment forces them to quicker action, and eliza pulls oskar towards the rest of her family so that when they apparate, they do it together.

( the explosion itself is one of the stronger cases for a person having 'just downright rotten luck' documented, in recent years. GRACE, dragging ASTORIA by her jacket towards the auror detainment tent with the promise that safety awaits, has no way of predicting the freak accident she ultimately involves them both in - she counters spells she sees zipping past with a quick protego, has barely caught a glimpse of a wolf since it all kicked off, is managing, just barely, to keep her cool… but when a powerful reducto from a stranger in the crowd collides with the gas tanks behind an abandoned food truck, the resulting explosion throws EVERYONE in the immediate vicinity backwards with painful force, searing their eyebrows and knocking them out without them ever really understanding what happened, in the first place )

on the other side of the campgrounds, a stupefy collides with the ground at MINETTE'S feet, only narrowly missing her. she lets out a terrified squeak and twists to face the hooded figure that targeted her, throwing a leg lock curse at them without taking the time to properly aim and parrying the spell they throw back at her with a protego. her shield sends it flying into a nearby tent - not the first casualty, not the last - and though it's luckily empty, her distraction in that moment after it hits is all it takes for them to hit her with a body bind. she falls with a strangled sort of yell, and the next sensation her body feels is blistering pain beneath a vengeful crucio.

finally managing to break away from the crowd, ANDIE darts between two tents and turns left, weaving her way through temporary homes. her mind is blank with panic - she knows she should be apparating, but marco's cries in her ear tell her that it's a danger to do so with him so upset and all she's really trying to do, in this moment, is put as much distance between them and the wolves and the wayward spells as possible. of course, she realises she should've just risked it when the wolf jumps into her path, hackles raised, teeth stripped. she jumps so violently that marco lets out another loud cry, and as she starts to back up, the wolf follows. "please…" she sobs, "please don't hurt us…" the wolf, showing understanding, continues forward. "please-" an explosion of blue sparks from an off course spell cascades over them from where it collides with the outside of a tent, and she seizes the momentary distraction to turn on her heel and run.

"oh, merlin-" seeing TEMPEST struggle beneath the weight of the burning, wooden debris of what was once a stall, MARIETTA rushes into action. her aguamenti does little to douse the roaring, magical flames, so she gives up before she wastes too much precious time and just grabs their hands and starts to pull while they use whatever purchase they can find in the ground beneath them to try and help. the debris doesn't want to let go of them, but after a few long moments of desperate pulling, an almighty tug gets them free - their clothes singed, smoking, actually smoldering from the fire that had been licking so dangerously close to them. marietta, for what it's worth, does more than just force them to roll around. she also violently smacks at where the smoke seems most likely to burst into flame with her bare hands, only stopping when she's absolutely sure the danger has passed.

JUSTIN had gotten caught by the crowd. that was all. he had started hot on the heels of the xu's, but the rushing wix had cut him off halfway along the journey. when he tripped, he was forced to his knees. when he got stuck close at the ground, he was stuck there, unable to push himself back to standing or press ahead, forcefully frozen in place by the sea of wix that were so desperate to get away that they don't realise he's even there. he tries, he tries so hard, but when a knee collides with his forehead, his body folds in on itself - leaving him vulnerable to the heavy footfall of a panicked crowd.

she was lucky enough not to experience the last time a quidditch celebration turned deadly, but she's probably heard all about it, by now. CARA is at a distinct disadvantage to everyone else, lost in the crowd and being unable to apparate out - she's heard stories of werewolves, heard the truth about death eaters, but she's not interested in combating either. she just wants to get safe, and when the going gets especially rough… "mum!" she weaves her way through the crowd of wix, screaming so loudly her voice is sure to go hoarse, "mum!"

"PANSY-" is the last word that she hears before the werewolf that suddenly appears in their path leaps and THEO shoves her out of the way with all of his strength. he makes himself the target, though the wolf doesn't care which one of them it crashes into with enough force to send them both flying backwards into the nearest, wooden stall, a mess of both their limbs. pansy's scream of terror catches in her throat as she hits the ground hard enough to see stars, and she fights against every instinct that she has to just lay there and catch her breath to instead scramble for her wand and force herself back up again, blood running cold at the thought that she can only ever be too late. "theo!" she shrieks, rushing to where they have fallen and taking careless aim - it's a gamble of the worst kind, but somehow, her depulso lands true. the werewolf atop him gets thrown away into another stall as pansy throws herself over him in its place, apparating them away before it can get its bearings and come back for them, again.

another spell that seems to have been fired directly at theme explodes in the fireplace that he had been allowing die, and with a loud "fuck this!" DAMARIS is gone. he can't say he doesn't understand, but with a little bit more of an emotional investment in his tent - and temporary home - VIKTOR doesn't immediately follow suit. still crouched low, a hand held over the gushing wound on his arm, he rushes over to douse the fire. glass cracks underfoot. he succeeds, but his relief is short lived, quickly replaced by the cold rushing of blood in his veins when he hears a snapping of jaws from behind him. to his credit, he doesn't take the time to look it in the eye. turning on the spot, viktor disappears the instant before the wolf's body collided with his own - he can still smell their rotting breath when he lands a few miles away, in safety.

"get OFF-" SEAMUS, an arm broken by a stray curse hanging awkwardly at his side, roars. he was almost free of it all. almost out of the danger zone entirely when he stumbles on the most horrifying of scenes - two bloodied figures, strangers to him in the moment, a lone werewolf stood tall and tearing into them. he rushes toward the danger without pausing to think about whether he even should, if they're even still alive, drawing the attention of the wolf. it turns quicker than he thinks possible, but seamus is quick, too - his powerful expulso fueled by pain and fear sends the wolf flying into the night, crashing over the roof of a car, and though he gives it half a breath before he runs towards the XU'S, it doesn't come back again.

CHO, who had already lost sight of her friends before the campgrounds went full chaos, isn't exactly looking for them - she's just trying to get away, same as everyone else. when a wolf lunges from the darkness and sinks their teeth into a strangers leg, she screams as loudly as they do and turns all the way around, running full pelt in the opposite direction. it is sheer chance that she happens on the same path as MINETTE, more of the same that a glance over her shoulder to make sure she isn't being followed results in her running full force into the death eater holding the other under crucio. their concentration is broken when they fall with cho in a tangle of limbs, but in the scrambling that they both do away from one another, the masked figure is quicker. they slash downwards with their wand and pain erupts, stemming from a large wound opened in cho's chest. she falls to her knees and, realising how exposed they now are, the death eater turns heel and runs.

ANDIE trips over a tent peg. it's as simple and as utterly damning as that. she trips and falls with a cry, her ankle throbbing, and marco goes down with her. she doesn't know how long she has, and she still isn't thinking straight. her mind is clouded by terror, ten times worse for the fact that when she tries to get back to her feet, her ankle protests so badly she knows there's no point. "marco, baby, you have to run," she sobs, tears streaming down both their cheeks, "go. please, marco, go-" unfortunately, it isn't her pleading that he listens to. the deep growl of the wolf still in pursuit sends him running, and despite her terror - and the white hot pain that blossoms suddenly from her leg - andie is relieved.

"ginny?!" ARTHUR shouts as loud as he can, pushing his way in the opposite direction of the moving crowd, making his way slowly - but absolutely surely - towards where he knows she pitched her tent. his robes ripped at the knee and sporting a nasty cut over one eye, he's already seen some of the worst of what's happening here but his main priority, as always, is his daughter. he's close enough, now, to spot a flash of red through the crowd. flames, he realises. flames, licking the sky. his heart feels like its going to burst out of his chest as he pushes through the final wall of people between him and his destination and he comes face to face with the stuff of nightmares. "ginny!" his voice cracks with the force of her name, and arthur doesn't hesitate - he charges forward through the opening at the front of the tent, headfirst into the smoke and fire.

meanwhile, on the opposite side of the campgrounds, MARY collides with her daughter. she wraps her arms around her, protectively, and tugs her out of the still rushing crowd into a relatively safe pocket of calm at the edge of the beaten track, between two different stalls. CARA gives a terrified squeak and then relaxes - total trust in total chaos. "mum-" she cries, but mary knows better than most how little time they have in a situation as dire as this and has already ripped her wand from her shaking hand. "mum?" she asks, and mary holds her closer still with one arm, getting a feel for her wand with her other hand. "this is going to hurt," she tells her, solemnly, and then for the first time in twenty five years, mary apparates. for what it's worth, she's right.

since the events of the derby, MARCO'S mother had tried to instill in him the idea that if he ever got lost like that again, he was to look for the nearest auror and stay with them until she came for him. terrified by what he's seen, tonight, he doesn't do it - but in a manner of speaking, he manages it all the same. it isn't an auror that finds him hunched down beneath the wooden counter of an abandoned food stall, but when MIKAELA finally inches her way into a clearing where once stood a now smoldering tent and comes face to face with ARTURO, she does so with the little boy held tightly in her arms.

"thank merlin-" she gasps, breaking into a short run to get to him faster without a single or second thought. he grabs onto them both, a desperate hug that lasts a few moments longer than is wise, in their current situation.

"are you okay?" he asks, and though she gives a nod, he pulls her back and holds her at arms length anyways to check her and marco over, rambling all the while, "you haven't been hurt? where did you find him? you weren't bitten? the death eaters-"

"we have to get out of here, right now-"

"i know. you're right. we can apparate a few miles out, see if anyone's seen and-" there is a brief flash of red, bright as a flare, over his shoulder. arturo's eyes go blank and his body goes slack, stupefied from behind. she cries out as he loses balance, trying her hardest to keep him upright but finding herself entirely unable to support his weight with a quietly sobbing marco still held close to her. he falls and she adjusts the little boy, taking hold of him better with one arm so that she can raise her wand and defend herself against the death eater that targeted arturo, though instead-

a grey wolf, larger than any of the others that she caught a glimpse of in all of this chaos, stalks out of the shadows, one large paw after the other. intelligent, yellow eyes size her up. its lips peel back from its teeth in a vicious, warning growl, and mikaela is glad for the poor lighting - something viscous hangs from its canines, but if it's all over quick enough she'll never have to know exactly what.

"stay back," she tells it, aiming for bossy even as her palms sweat. she could run. she could apparate, even, risk the splinching just to get away - she'd probably make it, and better they're alive sans a finger or two than hold onto them all and be dead, but arturo… he decides everything for her. she holds her wand higher. "i don't want to hurt you," she says, trying to sound every bit as confident and as frightening as niko does when he puts voice to the horrid thoughts inside his head.

the wolf steps forward again, unconvinced. marco buries his head further into the crook of her shoulder.

"it's your last chance."

it leans in. head low. hackles raised. a low grumble comes from deep within its chest. she's seen dogs like it, before, fighting in the street. she knows it's going to lunge, thinks it'll be faster than i can ever be, and then it DOES, and she shouts "avada-"

she knows it'll be close, too close to call, too close to know until one of them hits the ground-

the sickly green of a killing curse lands true, striking the wolf. it drops like a puppet whose strings have been cut into an unceremonious heap, crumpling to the floor as a man, not a beast. his unkempt silver hair is matted. his shrewd eyes unseeing. it wasn't mikaela's curse.

around her, dozens of figures pop into being. aurors and hit wix, the lot of them, hitting the ground running and rushing towards the chaos of elsewhere, their wands held high and at the ready. some of them slow down as they pass the body of the man, their eyes widening in recognition before they shake themselves from their shock and head off to get a hold of the situation. one girl falls to her knees beside arturo to cast the counterspell ; somehow she is able to manage relief when she sees his eyes, fluttering.

mikaela wraps her other arm back around marco, protectively, and turns to face her father. he keeps his wand held in his first when he closes the distance and performs an almost step by step imitation of her reunion from moments before - pulls her close, pushes her back, takes a good, long look at her, over her.

she opens her mouth.

he cuts her off. "i told you."

ROUNDUP OF DAMAGES, INJURIES & FATALITIES :

by the time the aurors and general do gooders have everything under control, again, and the werewolves and death eaters have disappeared into the night, the campground is almost entirely levelled. anyone who didn't grab their belongings before they got out will likely not be able to find them, come morning, be it because their tent was burned to the ground or because the crowd stampeded over them. the death toll starts at ten, but climbs to thirty one as bodies are found and victims succumb to their injuries over the days that immediately follow. curiously, there are no deaths that can be attributed to the killing curse aside from that of FENRIR GREYBACK, who was killed by the minister of magic himself in defense of his daughter.

andie macnair is found by aurors and taken to st mungo's, quickly ; she was seriously injured and will need to spend a few days on a ward to fully recover. the bite to her leg was treated with dittany mixed with silver which has closed it, but she will be cursed with lycanthropy from this point onward.

antigone & ismene xu are in critical condition at st mungo's. if either survive, they will be cursed with lycanthropy.

arthur weasley had already suffered quite serious burns and smoke inhalation by the time he realised the tent was empty and passed out before he could get out - he would've burned to death had he not sent his patronus out and had it spotted by an auror, who dove in and dragged him out. he was taken from the scene and taken to st mungo's where he will need to spend several days, recovering.

arturo de la rosa suffered some minor injury but is mostly shook by the experience.

astoria greengrass suffered serious injury in the explosion that claimed lives and is lucky to be alive. she is removed from the scene and taken to st mungo's where she will have to spend several days to fully recover.

cara macdonald was badly splinched when she was apparated out and will need to seek treatment in st mungo's, though aside from this, she is mostly just shaken.

cho chang suffered serious injury from an unidentified curse that was thrown at her during the chaos and was taken to st mungo's from the scene, where she will have to spend at least the night having copious amounts of dittany applied to the gaping wound.

damaris vector is more shaken, than anything. they suffered a few minor scapes to their hands and knees, but apparated out before it could get any worse.

dudley dursley suffered minor smoke inhalation but got out quick and is more shaken by the experience than anything else.

eliza fawley ( and her husband and son ) are shaken, but unscathed.

ginny weasley (and draco malfoy ) suffered minor smoke inhalation but got out quick and are more shaken by the experience than anything else.

grace moody suffered serious injury in the explosion that claimed lives and is lucky to be alive. she is removed from the scene and taken to st mungo's where she will have to spend several days to fully recover.

justin finch-fletchley suffered serious injury when he was crushed beneath the crowd and is taken from the scene to st mungo's, where he will have to spend several days to fully recover.

marcus flint apparated out immediately and is unscathed.

marietta edgecombe suffered some minor burns to her hands, but is mostly unscathed.

mary macdonald was badly splinched when she apparated out and will need to seek treatment in st mungo's, though aside from this, she is also mostly just shaken.

mikaela karkaroff ( and marco macnair ) are badly shaken but mostly unscathed.

minette merrythought is badly shaken by her time beneath the cruciatus, but can be treated for shock on the scene. she's advised to have a stiff drink when she gets home, to further calm her nerves.

narcissa malfoy ( and her husband, plus a couple peacocks ) apparated out immediately and are unscathed.

oskar catchlove sprained his ankle in the chaos but can have this seen by an on site healer.

pansy parkinson suffered a minor concussion when she hit the ground, but is relatively unscathed. she's lucky that theo was there.

seamus finnigan broke his arm after he was hit by a stray curse, but has his choice ; he can take a shot of skele-gro on the scene and deal with it himself or seek treatment at st mungo's, where he will be fully observed overnight.

tempest clearwater has sustained minor burns, cuts and bruises from the stall that was collapsed on top of them ; they will need to spend a night in st mungo's to be properly treated.

theodore nott is miraculously unbitten but suffered serious cuts and bruising when he crashed into a wooden stall ; he will have to seek treatment in st mungo's and spend at least one night, for observation.

viktor krum was grazed by a ribboning curse and has suffered quite a serious injury to his upper arm. this can be taken care of with an administration of dittany by healers on scene.

OUT OF CHARACTER :

this marks the end of our charity quidditch game event ! no new event based starters should be posted from here on out, but you can feel free to continue any threads you began over the last few weeks and are welcome to transition to the aftermath.

#nox.plotdrop016 #nox.important #nox.event040 #hp rp #harry potter rp #appless rp #fandom rp #canon rp #oc rp #mumu rp #established rp

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theimmortalsnake · 2 years

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You look at the least threatening enemy you have ever come across. Suddenly, a more dangerous person appears behind them.

Hello weakling.

You see your enemy eyes turn from the sky blue eyes to completely black. They reach for something in their back pocket. They turn to the enemy.

You forgot something.

What is that weakling?

They pull out a gun.

I am legally able to own firearms. *shoots right between the eyes before turning back to you. Their eyes are back to normal.* Hate me now, thank me later.

Victor runs off, leaving you there confused. They just changed their entire personality in a matter of seconds.

@a-pretty-damn-good-narrator @nightingale-soakage

#meet Victor #a new oc that i based off of a game...#i want to rp this with both of you separately.

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marshgrave · 8 months

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hey nice to see you here and everything and ngl I’m impressed that you had the mental capacity AND prolonged focus to actually make this cookie-cutter, one of a billion blog. credit where it’s due. now to get into the weeds, I’ve been thinking. if you actually wanted to do the world a favor and become one with your “rot” (moreso than your smell already implies), would a gun to the mouth do the trick? or maybe a rope necklace? cause I’m starting to get worried there isn’t a single working neuron up there and all you’d do is damage some skull. let me know when you get the chance.

Look at the state in which I live. Look at the unpleasant confectioneries to which I subject myself on the daily, and breathe in the sweet and delicate putridity in which I wallow. Look ye upon my constant suffering which befalls me at my own hand. If you think I haven’t been trying to design myself a suitably permanent demise then clearly you’ve got equalmuch wrong with your capacity to form cognizant ideas about the world around you. Did somebody open up a spigot in your forehead and drain the already-defunct soakage pit in your cranium of any remaining common sense? Did it run down your pathetic face and mingle with your snot and tears and drool? Is anybody going to lick that up for you?

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a-pretty-damn-good-narrator · 1 year

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Hey, sorry I never responded about the rp a while ago, I kind of forgot and the fandom didn't interest me as much as I thought, would you be interested in a rp now? Or anytime soon? (If I am unrecognizable from url if I didn't have it changed awhile ago, I was nightingale-soakage.)

Oh! It's been a while huh? Sure!

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blubushie · 1 year

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"A PICNIC TABLE?" DUDE please like just look at it and blur your eyes a bit maybe you'll see or maybe youre too used to what is ACTUALLY in the picture 😭 i really went and sentenced myself to public blast for that

retaliation! before i go to sleep I will bombard you with all random questions that come to me in this ask

what's your preferred time of day and why? most reliable water sources? how do you usually deal with most common threats you encounter in the bush? which kind of snake would you call the least dangerous? if you could forever abolish one animal from existence, which would it be, if any? best fish? worst fish?

thank you (for reading, answering, remaining fascinated and being my curious ass' main source of giddy leg wiggle during the day)

- most annoyingly, 🧀 anon <3 💥💥💥

Thank you for asking, cheeseanon!!! I really enjoy these. I normally live out in the bush and even in California I live in a rural area so I don't have many neighbours (and those that do know me as that Weird Aussie Bloke that disappeared for 3 years).

What's your preferred time of day and why?

Night! Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night. I absolutely love the stars. My second-favourite time of day is dawn when the kookaburras wake up.

Most reliable water sources?

There's no reliable water sources in the Outback. I collect my water from rain tarps (which I can drink straight) and clear streambeds (which I have to boil before drinking). I have one canteen specifically for collecting water and another for carrying purified water when I'm travelling. Sometimes soakage from native wells is the only way of obtaining water but I've only had to do this a few times.

How do you usually deal with common threats out in the bush?

Staying in Matilda/under shelter during the hottest parts of the day, since the environment itself is the greatest threat in the Outback. As far as living threats go, it usually involves screaming. I've run my voice hoarse through shouting at dingos because they very much hate noise and are generally skittish around people. When necessary I might fire a warning shot into the dirt to make them keep their distance and this usually works. I've only ever had one actually bite me, and that was a lone female with pups (judging by the condition of her teats) who wanted my food. We tussled on the ground for a bit with her teeth locked around my ankle (thank Christ for my leather boots), I cut her foreleg with my knife, and she scurried off. She came back an hour later and decided I was still worth the risk of being killed over, so I took a potshot between her legs to make her keep her distance and chucked her the back half of a rabbit which she scurried off with. Normally I wouldn't recommend feeding the wildlife since it can make them dependent on people which puts people and the animal in danger, but we were in an area with very few humans so it's unlikely she'd ever encounter one again. To her I was a big prey animal and worth the risk to feed her pups. Mutual respect between us and she learned her lesson I reckon.

On the downside, I needed a new pair of jeans because her teeth ripped right through the hem.

What kind of snake would you consider the least dangerous?

The dead kind. That's a joke. Please don't kill snakes, they're really neat and are much more afraid of you than you are of them. Additionally you're much more likely to get bit trying to kill or move a snake than you are just letting him go on his way. I'd reckon that any small nonvenomous snake isn't dangerous. Typically anything in Colubridae is safe. Small, non-dangerous species include:

Green tree snake, Dendrelaphis punctulatus

Common keelback, Tropidonophis mairii

Green tree python, Morelia viridis (they're arseholes though)

Brahminy blind snake, Indotyphlops braminus (invasive)

Woma python, Aspidites ramsayi

Northern green tree snake, Dendrelaphis calligaster

Elephant trunk snake, Acrochordus arafurae (these guys are really neat!)

Pygmy python, Antaresia perthensis

Crab-eating snake, Fordonia leucobalia

Marine file snake, Acrochordus granulatus (really neat)

Bockadam, Cerberus australis

Rough-scaled python, Morelia carinata

Papuan spotted python, Antaresia papuensis

Every blind snake in the genus Anilios

Australia has ~140 species of land snakes and ~30 species of sea snakes. Basically all our sea snakes are highly venomous and can kill you. Of our land snakes, ~100 are venomous. That means roughly 75% of Australian snakes are venomous. That said, the majority of these have venom so insignificant that it can't harm people. Most people won't even realise they've been bitten. So why didn't I count the "harmless" venomous species? People can have allergies! What might bite me and not have any effect could bite you and give you a fatal arrhythmia if you're allergic to the venom. Assume all snakes are dangerous and give them all a wide berth unless you can 100% confirm that they won't harm you. EVERY SNAKE IS THE FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT VARIETY.

If you could abolish any animal from existence, what would it be?

Mozzies. I fucking hate mozzies with a burning passion. They gave my dad malaria twice and nearly killed him the second time. Additionally I'm type O (universal donor) which, just so happens, mozzies fucking love. I get SWARMED. I'm constantly covering myself, my clothes, and Misty in permethrin just to keep ticks off us (and this comes from somebody who fucking hates synthetic chemicals). I don't need to deal with mozzies too.

From an ecological standpoint, FUCKING CARP. I HATE CARP SO GODDAMN MUCH. YOU THINK CANE TOADS ARE BAD? NO! WELL THEY ARE, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT'S FUCKING WORSE? CARP. THEY HAVE RUINED THE MURRAY-DARLING BASIN AND ITS WATERWAYS. WE HAVE LOST 90% OF OUR NATIVE SPECIES' TERRITORY TO INVASIVE FUCKING CARP. IMAGINE THAT. THE SANCTITY OF AUSTRALIA, OUR AMAZING MURRAY COD, LOST TO FUCKING GOLDFISH. I HATE CARP WITH A BURNING FUCKING PASSION OH MY GOD DON'T EVEN GET ME FUCKING STARTED--

Best fish?

Barramundi. I fucking love barra. They're delicious, they're incredibly fun to catch, they're absolutely massive so I guarantee you'll not go hungry. I love barra.

Worst fish?

FUCKING CARP.

#blu whos #bushman

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