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First names were most often used by childhood or school friends. If the friendship was made after school age, first names would only really be used by women. Men were far more likely to refer to their friends by their surnames, a mark of familiarity. — Documentation

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Emilia Wright for Jude Wright. Casually alienating offspring since 18882.
Separating was also not a great idea, though they weren't doing great at staying together anyway. If she were to volunteer to be the human sacrifice.. well... Hogsmeade had plenty of debutantes anyway...

Barnabas Skeeter in CYOA: Group D

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Complete threads set in ten different forum locations. Threads must have at least ten posts, and three must be your own. Character accounts cannot be combined.


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Read Only Jots On Parchment Edges
Posted by: William Collins - 4 hours ago - Forum: Journals - No Replies

About This Journal
William does not keep a journal in the traditional sense - the idea of having his innermost thoughts set down in ink on parchment is a complete anathema to him. He values his privacy too much to risk having such a thing stolen or leveraged against him, so though he has been gifted journals in the past they are for the most part used to chronicle educational ventures and notes rather than anything that could be counted as particularly personal.

However, he does keep on his person a small leather bound booklet within which he has painstakingly set down his most important notes. While mostly consisting of herbology notations, ciphers and addresses, there are within quotes from various philosophers that hold particular meaning to him. That book - were it to ever be found or stolen - would not have anything incriminating, persay, though the quotes might grant an insight to who William is as a person and where his values align.

A complete ( and occasionally updated ) selection of said quotes is included below. However what this journal consists of will be short bursts of seemingly random writings - notes William means for himself that would have little meaning to anyone outside of himself. Beneath a split, will be a comprehensive breakdown on what the writing pertains to and a mun analysis of William’s particular position at any one time to grant a meta-based insight while still keeping to William’s character of not giving anything away in writing.  

Quotes Within:

"Mathematics reveals its secrets only to those who approach it with pure love, for its own beauty."
— Archimedes

"Nature and teaching are closely related; for teaching reforms a person, and by reforming remakes his nature."
— Democritus

“Nothing great in the world was accomplished without passion.”
― Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel

"Those who love wisdom must investigate many things"
— Heraclitus

“You have power over your mind - not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.”
― Marcus Aurelius

“Whenever you are about to find fault with someone, ask yourself the following question: What fault of mine most nearly resembles the one I am about to criticize?”
― Marcus Aurelius

"Courage isn't having the strength to go on - it is going on when you don't have strength."
— Napoléon Bonaparte

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.”
― Plato

"Be silent or let thy words be worth more than silence."
— Pythagoras

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Private Please Behave
Posted by: Victor North - 4 hours ago - Forum: Post - No Replies

September 6, 1888
I hope school has treated you well. Are you making friends? How is your owl doing? I do hope you listen more to your teachers than you had with your tutors. Learning magic is very important, and can help you for your whole life. Please right to me soon.


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  A Fishy Situation
Posted by: Silas Wild - 4 hours ago - Forum: The Black Lake - No Replies

Fall had only begun to settle over the grounds of Hogwarts but by god the lake was already quite cold, even oddly cold, Silas thought. He’d donned canvas waders over his tweed pants and half of his camel hair colored barn jacket before leaving his cottage and heading down to the lake to investigate something he’d overheard one of the student’s talking about not much earlier that morning.

What are you lookin’ at?” Silas skipped a stone towards a skeptical looking merman that had popped his head above water and assumed a rather mocking attitude while watching Silas try and sort out his predicament.

The creature disappeared back underneath of the dark waves of the lake before the stone made contact and Silas couldn’t help the smug smile that spread across his face. Nonetheless, he was still no closer to sorting out his problem.

It was not a very attractive sight upon approach; the entire cove was filled with the floating carcasses of dead fish. At least seventy by Silas’s closest count and it smelled like twice as many.

He looked around and it was obvious what happened, what was not obvious was why. The entire cove was cut off by downed trees, shrubs, stumps, sticks…anything that could create a dam. Cutting this area off from the fresh water supply the fish used up their oxygen and died.

Why though? Silas thought to himself.

Could it be Centaurs?

He wondered while surveying the area, suddenly a bit paranoid about being alone on one of the lesser frequented coves of the lake. Then, somewhere not too far away a twig snapped. Silas focused in on the direction of the sound.

Who’s there?” he called out into what remained of the chilly morning fog, the last remnants of what had yet to burn off in the early sun.

Cautiously, he waited for an answer…

Lydia Lockhart

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Private These Are Their Stories
Posted by: Souri Corcoran - 7 hours ago - Forum: London - No Replies

September 21st, 1888 - Daily Prophet Offices

Souri had been working at the Daily Prophet for almost four years now and, in that time, she'd moved from cutting her teeth on barely newsworthy tidbits that got stuck at the back of the paper to writing about stories that actually mattered. She'd worked hard, relentless in her pursuit of whatever truth interested her, and she was proud of the strides she'd made. Still, it wasn't easy being a woman in such a male dominated profession. While her colleagues liked to think of themselves as enlightened, they'd said and done things that had earned them a hard side eye from her. The fact that she couldn't let those things go without offering biting, snarky commentary didn't help matters.

Ultimately, every conflict blew over (more or less ...) and things settled down quickly, but she was ever wary of the men that rotated in and out around her. The new intern was no exception, even as young as he was. Souri wasn't that far off from her own teen years and she remembered very well what boys that age could be like. She had to be professional about it - they did work together after all - but she didn't spare him any skepticism.

The few months he'd worked there had very nearly convinced her that he wasn't a complete disaster, but there was some proving ground for him to cover yet. Like the one she was setting in front of him now. "Nuffer!" She called to him from her desk, covered in papers and quills and other writer's debris, but organized with surprising neatness. "You're not doing anything right now, are you? Even if you are, quit it and come here. I have a job for you."

Ernie Nuffer

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  Sprouting a Friendship
Posted by: Silas Wild - 7 hours ago - Forum: Castle Grounds - No Replies

Silas shivered as he bolted the door to the groundskeeper cottage. A sharp chill had run up his spine as the crisp fall wind blew by. He pulled the collar of his flannel shirt higher and buttoned another button on his jacket as he walked down the stairs of the cottage and up towards the castle. It was shockingly nostalgic, this being his first year back since he’d graduated a decade ago. He’d always loved fall at Hogwarts and this year was glorious as the leaves began to change their hue to reds and yellows and oranges. Not long now and he’d need a much heavier coat for the short walk up the hill to the main buildings.

Today Silas received a note from one of the more neurotic house elves and it was a request from the Herbology professor. Silas was asked to join him for a little maintenance of the greenhouses. Mason Skeeter…Silas turned the name over and over in his head and his hands shook a bit with nerves if only he could have a drink…Silas remembered Mason being older than him during his time at Hogwarts, but they never had much of a relationship. Further, since he’d taken the job for the year so last minute Silas was busy running around trying to catch up with his duties he’d barely had time to meet many of the professors much less catch up with the ones he knew.

Now, standing at the front of the greenhouse, Silas tried to peer through windows which were obscured by condensation and the leaves and vines of various flora. It looked dark inside. He knocked….nothing. Once more he rapped against the door. After another moment without an answer, he retrieved his wand, pointed it at the door, and listened for the almost inaudible click as the locking mechanism turned.

Professor Skeeter?” Silas called out in the dimly lit greenhouse as he stepped forward closing the door behind him.

It was warm, hot even. He didn’t remember the greenhouse being this oppressive when he was a student, but a lot of time had passed.

It’s Silas, Sir,” he called out again moving towards the center of the building.

Row after row of exotic and magical plant passed by him as he sought out the professor. He referenced the note and checked his timepiece. He was on time.

Well, nothing to do but wait, Silas thought to himself while eyeing a large leafy stalk plant he didn’t all together recognize in front of him.

Well hello,” he said to the curious plant leaning forward to inspect the leaves and noticing a small series of brown spots developing…

Mason Skeeter

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  My Heart Hurts for You
Posted by: Finlay Connolly - 7 hours ago - Forum: Post - No Replies

OOC - Not dated, but for reference was written in 1886. Sent on September 18, 1888.

Mrs. Odira Potter —

Dearest Mrs. Potter, the poor girl who has lost her memory and suffered an undeserving tragedy. My heart hurts for you and what you have lost. Your discomfort and confusion is evident from our conversations. You are a patient at my hospital - not my patient, as you are in a separate ward as it seems this is far beyond a magical bug - but I have heard of you all the same.

I have heard about how bright and intelligent you are, about your strength of character and your affinity for books. I know you are married to Mr. Potter - a gentleman who is kind-hearted, I'm certain, but I cannot get your tragic story from my mind. I have thought about it night and day for weeks on end. I know it is utterly ridiculous, but I fancy myself partly in love with you.

My Heart Hurts for You,
Finlay Connolly

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  Frederick Townsend is one lucky bastard
Posted by: Finlay Connolly - 7 hours ago - Forum: Post - No Replies

OOC - Not dated, but for reference was written in 1885. Sent on September 18, 1888.

Mrs. Sarah Townsend —

It is with great shame that I write this letter - to a married woman, no less! I have done my very best to stamp down what feelings I have developed for you these past few days of treating you as my patient, yet I simply cannot will them away. Each interaction we have I am overcome by your genuine kindness, your sweetness - the way you are gentle with everyone and despite your discomfort with your illness, not once did you lose your composure or concern for others. You are likely one of the most amazingly patient people I have had the pleasure to meet and it is with great shame I must admit that I have fallen for you.

Your husband - though I have not met him - is surely the luckiest man alive. I will envy him for the rest of my days. If I were to be at your side, I would return as a ghost just so that I could have every day with you for eternity.

Horribly in Love,
Finlay Connolly

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  Creepy or cute
Posted by: Finlay Connolly - 8 hours ago - Forum: Post - No Replies

OOC - Not dated, but for reference was written in 1876. Sent on September 18, 1888.

Miss Veronica Harkiss —

Lovely, lovely Veronica. I have been distracted from my studies because of my thoughts of you. We've barely conversed, but I can't help but to feel our strong connection. We are drawn together like a moth to a flame, like a rose to the sun. Every time our eyes meet across the room - brief as it is - I feel a shiver run through me, from my head to my toes. Surely, you can feel it as well? I'm hopelessly in love with you Veronica, and I fear that you do not feel the same.

I will pine after you from afar and hope that one day, after our eyes meet and our souls brush, that you will acknowledge our star-crossed paths and meet me beneath the willow next to the lake. We can be the next great romance story.

All my Love,
Finlay Connolly

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  Get well... slowly
Posted by: Finlay Connolly - 8 hours ago - Forum: Post - No Replies

OOC - Not dated, but for reference was written in 1887. Sent on September 18, 1888.

Miss Lucille Flint —

I have been thinking about you non-stop since the moment I laid eyes on you. You had checked into the hospital as my patient. Your beauty and grace radiated around you like an angelic halo - one that had me stuttering and trembling, barely able to hold the file with your name on it in my hands. You likely wouldn't even recognize me now. I couldn't get my name out or ask you questions about your illness, so awestruck was I of your exquisiteness. I had to feign business and switch patients with another healer in my ward - he got the better end of the deal, by far.

Part of me hoped that you would not come to full healthy quickly so that I could just hover near your room and know that you were there - which is problematic, to say the least. Sadly - or thankfully, for your case - you were only checked in for a day. Still, I cannot get over your beauty - or your smile - or the way the other hospital staff spoke of you. Such sweetness and kindness!

It is odd to say since we haven't even spoken to each other - but I believe myself completely and utterly in love with you.

All my Love,
Finlay Connolly

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  The Luxury Of Loneliness
Posted by: Lydia Lockhart - 8 hours ago - Forum: Gryffindor Tower - No Replies

September 14th, 1888 — Gryffindor common area

It was a Friday night and instead of being out and about like some of her friends might be, hanging out in the Great Hall or roaming the hallways with their friends (and chaperons of course!), Lyddie was in the common room looking pensively at the paintings on the wall. There were a few that moved through their canvasses and into others' paintings, but the ones that Lydia was looking at were all sound asleep.

It was easy to forget why she wanted to be a debutante when all of her friends had things to do, but a proper girl wouldn't be out "on the town" as it were, even though the Hogsmeade weekend hadn't come up yet. A proper girl would be studying. Except Lyddie wasn't studying. She had a for fun book on ghouls in her lap, even though she had nothing to do with ghoul studies as a NEWT class. It was, as she thought, just for fun.

But she wasn't reading the book, she was staring at the walls and thinking about her sister. Dolly had had such an adventure in Morocco with their father before she became a Diggory. Was it wrong to want an adventure of her own before settling down into marriage? Perhaps she'd find someone who loved to travel.

That thought comforted her and she smiled at the one painting that was there and awake. "What do you think?" she asked aloud, not really thinking that others might be in the room with her. "Marriage and then adventure with said husband or adventure to find a husband like my sister did?"

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