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Here is a world where Death Eaters roam free, and muggles are off to fend for themselves.
"He Who Must Not Be Named Killed by Infant, Now Missing"
"The Minister of Magic Murdered"
"Dumbledore is Dead"
"The War is finally Over!"
In reality, there is a resistance that is still fighting for the rights of themselves, muggles, and muggleborns alike.
It is January 1981, and it is one of the coldest winters London has seen in quite some time.
We are open!!!
Due to just opening we have no site-wide events at the moment.
But in the future they will be posted here and in the announcements.
For now get those applications in, and get ready to submerge your character into the dark world that will be developed by you, and our other members. Let's let the magic begin.
Member No.: 11
Joined: 21-November 09
get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
Of all days, she thought in a rare moment of irritability. Of all days, the café had been closed. Typically, this would not have been so much of a bother, but after the earlier morning’s happenings, all Adelaide wanted was an easy trip to her favourite spot on the corner of Whidborne and Cromer for a cup of tea and a good hour of studying. This is how she liked to spend most of her Sunday mornings… Quietly, undisturbed, and in a comfortable and familiar place.
The morning had commenced at the ungodly hour of five AM. Her raucous neighbors from across the street must have been leaving on a holiday and were making quite a show of doing it very loudly. They were muggles and had in their entourage four vehicles and the full families with which to fill them.
Adelaide, not usually one to sleep till afternoon, had at least wanted to get a small bit of shut-eye after the previous night’s activities. The firm at which she’d been interning had kept her very, very late in order to finish reviewing a case and Adelaide was not a night owl. And so, after only four hours of sleep (and that was generous), she resigned to being unable to fall back into her slumber after the crack-of-dawn party across the way and proceeded to begin her morning… Albeit quite groggily.
It was then she found out that she’d received a letter stating she was expected back at the firm later that evening for a last-minute acquittal filing. As she was despairingly reading the summons, she noticed her loaf of bread had expired….
Adelaide had never, in living memory, eaten anything expired. What a horrifying notion…
With a sigh uncharacteristic to someone so rarely annoyed with anything, Adelaide resigned herself to no toast and jam and readied herself to venture out into the biting cold with her paperwork and textbooks, hopefully to enjoy her studying over a cup of her favourite earl grey and a soft orange scone. But as she apparated there and brushed residual snowflakes from the front of her cloak, she looked up at the store front and almost cried out in frustration:
Closed for inventory.
Darnit! She had no desire in her state of fatigue to make a trip to the market for groceries. All she wanted, for the love of Merlin, was to sit down and eat a stupid scone and study affidavits. So far, this weekend, did not feel like a weekend. At all.
Adelaide sighed once again and looked about the street for an alternative and nearby location in which to relocate, rising and falling on the balls of her feet to keep warm. There was a restaurant just adjacent from her, but the grungy feel of the exterior made the place look more like a dirty pub and she was not about to settle for that. She squinted over the heads of the passerby and saw what appeared to be a bakery….
That might suffice… It looked cozy without appearing too dingy… It was even quasi-cute, she thought to herself.
She absently tucked her hair behind her ear and sidestepped the oncoming pedestrian traffic, apologizing absently for being in the way. She made her way across the road towards the little place, and tried to ignore the eyes on her as she went.
This was why she didn’t like deviating from her routine. She could apparate there and back with ease and not have to worry about the discomfort of being around all these muggles and their lack of knowledge of who or what she was… She didn’t like the stares at her clothing, so minutely different from their own getups but just enough of a change to warrant notice. The questioning stares at the large tomes held in her arms brought a colour to her cheeks as she discreetly attempted to cover the titles on the bindings. She hated being stared at. It was something she tried to avoid… But really… she did want a scone.
She slipped inside the door once she arrived, grateful to be off the street, and heard the small tinkling of a bell as the door clicked closed behind her. The place wasn’t busy at all; a few patrons scattered about the quaint tables and mostly keeping to themselves. This seemed well for her business here… It would definitely due whilst her usual stop remained closed for the day.
Again, she brushed the snow from her front and placed her things at a secluded corner table. There was something comfortable about the place and she didn’t think twice about leaving her things momentarily unattended while she proceeded to go and place her order. It was true she had to forcibly look away from the run in the curtains or the fact some of the tables were slightly askew, but Adelaide allowed a calming thought to enter her in the form of knowing it was just a temporary solution.
That was Addy; always a constant battle within herself. Always overthinking. Always having to check herself.
Member No.: 16
Joined: 26-November 09
half scared to death
can’t catch my breath
Growing up little children dreamed about what they would be when they were older. Little boys often wished they were firefighters, policemen, mailmen, and even superheroes. Kenneth had known from a young age that he was destined to work at, and eventually take over his family's bakery. It wasn't something that many boys would be proud of, but Kenneth Donley knew it was something to be proud of. His father and mother had built the bakery from nothing, taking recipes from both of their families and combining them for some of the best bread you could find in London.
You could say that early mornings were something that Kenneth was used to. He had to be at the bakery at precisely 4:30AM, no earlier and no later. To do this, he had to get up at 3:00AM. He would brush his teeth, take one ten minute shower, make himself toast from a leftover loaf of bread from the day before, take another shower (this time fifteen minutes), brush his hair, get his clothing on starting from socks and ending with his shirt, brushing his teeth one final time, and then he was ready. It wasn't a long walk from his flat to the bakery, which made timing everything much easier.
But today was different. His parents had told him to show up to the bakery later and to sleep in. Kenneth didn't know what to do with himself. He still woke up at 3AM, and went through his usual routine. He even walked to the bakery and got there at precisely 4:30AM, but his parents both told him to go home and take some time off. He reluctantly left the bakery, and walked home. He sat at the edge of his couch, staring blankly at the wall for a half an hour, until he walked back to the bakery.
Although the appearance of the bakery wasn't completely perfect, Kenneth attempted to shove the thoughts of it out of his brain. The hardest thought to push out of his brain was the fact that he had a bit of flower on his pants. But he knew if he was to try to brush it off it would result in more of the white powder on his pants. This is the precise reason he had certain clothes he wore to the bakery, and brought clothes in a plastic bag inside another plastic bag that he would change into before going home and after washing his hands exactly four times. But his day was just starting.
He gave his parents a nod to say "hello," and was pleased when they didn't' tell him to leave. He looked around the bakery at the few people that were sitting at the tables. There was Rosie at her usual corner table, with her usual scone, and Timothy at his table in the middle of the room with his bagel, and Adelaide Joiner at he--wait. She wasn't usually here. Kenneth's cheeks immediately turned red as he stood behind the counter staring awkwardly at his former classmate. He had not seen many of his former classmates from Hogwarts since he graduated. Part of this was to protect his own family from the war that was going on, but part of it was also because he was too shy to keep any of his former relationships going on.
His eyes were glued to her, wondering if she would even remember who he was. It wasn't like they were close friends, they were acquaintances. The possible reason for their lack of close friendship could be the shyness that came from both sides. He wondered if she would even speak to him. His first reaction was to go to the back to kneed some dough, but he knew that wouldn't be polite. Instead, he grabbed a plain scone, placed it on the center of a plate, and walked in her direction. "Hello Adelaide," he said holding the scone out at her. "Have you tried our scones? This one is fresh out of the oven." He was focused on his blinking, one blink precisely every ten seconds. He had to focus on something to avoid turning around and walking away before she even had the time to answer. At least she couldn't hear his thoughts.