Did you know?

The Language of the Flowers was a popular method to express feelings where words might be improper, but did you know other means of doing so? Some ladies used their parasols, as well as their fans, gloves, and hankies to flirt with a gentleman (or alternatively, tell them to shove it!). — Bree

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Iola Hitchens for Elladora Black. The Blacks' black sheep.
This boy, then. He wasn't new. Wasn't one of the worst people in the common room, those rotten rich boys - like Mr. Jailkeeper - who could not fathom a world beyond their own farts. Was a good working class lad, so he'd heard. Had a bit of a weird looking face, and a bit of a weird thing for preaching. Still.

Aubrey Davis in The Under-Sofa

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Post at least once with the same character every day for a month.


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  Issue #208 - 10 Bachelors on the Rise!
Posted by: Witch Weekly - January 20, 2019 – 4:58 AM - Forum: Witch Weekly - Replies (5)

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Private Various Things
Posted by: Alexandra McPadraic - January 19, 2019 – 7:48 AM - Forum: High Street - Replies (4)

January, 19th - Import Store on High Street

Alexandra’s week had been made a little more enjoyable with the secret letters to Mr Koch, yet she couldn’t understand why. Perhaps it was the fact he returned them or that she learnt something from them. Either way, she had been disappointed when no more turned up. A part of her wondered what her father would do should he find out, she didn’t want the man to loss his job, but then father probably wasn’t smart enough to comprehend that she would have done it anyway.

Like every Saturday morning since starting at PSYR, their governess came a collected her (and her sister) from the school to spend the night at home. Unlike most mornings, she had pulled along Eleanor and Gareth for the trip, which ended with them in Hogsmead. Apparently the woman had been convinced by Nadia that Eleanor needed to pick out her own German book to practice with. Why the baby had to come, Alex wasn’t sure.

The group made their way along High Street, stopping where need be. Alexandra, with an annoyed looked from her sister and governess had picked up a book on flowers and their uses while they had been within the book story. Not that the young woman had paid them much mind, keeping it tucked to her chest as they continued.

About halfway through the import shop, Gareth had started to make a fuss. With a sigh, the governess had taken him and Eleanor outside after telling Alexandra and Florence to come out when they had finished. Florence had nodded and continued to look over the stores ribbons and silks. Alexandra however ventured deeper into the store, taking the chance to look at things she wouldn’t be able to otherwise.

She rounded the corner into the food section, and into a person. The book she was holding went tumbling to the ground.

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See Inside A Letter to Kumru
Posted by: Armel Koch - January 19, 2019 – 3:41 AM - Forum: Post - No Replies

January 2nd, 1889

January 2nd, 1889

Dear Kumru,

Happy New Year. Here I thought I would be contemplating my existence from Baudelaire’s for years yet to come, but everything changed. Overnight, and quite literally at that.

I reside now as the live-in chef of a famed auror’s estate. I’m still not sure how that happened, but it did.

They’re very British.

Tell me all about your new year. Any resolutions?


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Private Skip The Charades
Posted by: Maximiliaan De Vries - January 18, 2019 – 9:44 PM - Forum: Wellingtonshire - Replies (1)

14th January, 1889 — The Devine House, Wellingtonshire
She was taunting him now. She might have been taunting him before, but she had not said a word since his last - first - sighting of her, and he had not found her since, had almost convinced himself that he had only imagined her, unsettled himself with his own paranoia.

But, no. The letter had come from her, and come in a tone he did not like. The dead did not get the luxury of making interjections - Nicky might have the unusual luxury of walking and talking and living, but Max would be no more generous than that. Whatever it was she thought she was doing, she did not get to exist in his life.

He didn't want to let her think she had gotten to him, though. He hadn't responded to the note. He had waited as long as he could. But, all the same, he could not simply let this lie. Where had she gone, then? Max could only imagine that she had run out of alternative options, and run home. Or as close to a home as she had, these days, with the rest of the Dippets all dead and buried.

He had come to the Wellingtonshire address with the casual pretence of a calling card, glancing at the windows from the street and picturing Nicky behind one of the window panes, a mere heartbeat away, so at a loss in the tatters of her own life that she had encroached upon her younger sister's, beseeching the new Mrs. and Mr. Devine to help her.

Well, if Nicky was here, he would find out soon enough. He had left his card with a servant, only to hear that the mistress of the house was, as it happened, at home. Excellent. If anyone knew where his truant wife was, it would be her sister.

"Mrs. - Devine now, I hear," Max declared, pleasantly, when he was shown in. "It's been quite some time."

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Private Borderline
Posted by: Betsy Cooper - January 17, 2019 – 9:25 PM - Forum: The Augurey Beak Cafe - No Replies

17th January, 1888 — The ABC
Eileen Buchanan
Barely a fortnight into 1889, since the day Betsy had promised herself it would be a very long time before she so much as thought about touching a drink again, she had come to London and, slightly inevitably, found herself in the Augurey Beak. The warm hearth of the people she had found there more than made up for the headaches she had endured in the last year though, and curiously the moment she found herself in certain company once again she forgot all about the grimness of feeling hungover.

“I’ve been thinking about Kieran,” she started as casually as she could manage. She rarely came across the opportunity to talk to Leeny without at least one of the boys hovering somewhere nearby, whether it was Ray serving drinks or Jude trying to talk them into his next endeavour, so she was determined to make the most of it. There was no way Leeny didn’t already know the secret that had been playing on her mind lately, Leeny knew Kieran back to front after all, so Betsy doubted there was any danger of her spilling any beans. Still, it didn’t hurt to be cautious… “About something he said a while ago.” She took a sip of her gin and welcomed the bolstering burn. “About Jude.”

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Open The Troubling Hubble Bubble
Posted by: Florence Jewell - January 17, 2019 – 2:22 PM - Forum: Diagon Alley - Replies (1)

January 17, 1889 - Diagon Alley

With Sherry back in school the house was much too quiet for Florence’s liking. It left her with too much time to ponder the quickly life had passed, how quickly her children had grown, how soon they would all be married and living their own lives. At least she could count on Julep to come to supper as she still was at home. But it was only a matter of time before her little JuJu would be swept off her feet like Mads had been and would be living her own life.

Deciding that she had entirely too much time to think on such matters Florence decided to leave the house for the day, apperating to Diagon Alley for a change of pace. The cold January air bit at her nose and cheeks under the hood of her cloak as she made her way down the street, watching the other shoppers bustle past. Winter was still definitely here.

Seeking warmth Florence ducked into a potions supply shop. She walked along the shelves looking for something she might have run low on when another customer turned quickly, their cloak catching on the bottom shelf and bottles crashed to the floor. Ingredients combined quickly filling the room with a foul smell as it began to bubble and creep across the pathway. That certainly wasn’t good.

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Private No, Go Away
Posted by: Blossom Spinnakers - January 17, 2019 – 6:20 AM - Forum: London - Replies (1)

January 17, 1889 - Spinnakers Funeral Home
It wasn't as if vampires hadn't hovered around the funeral home before. Most were curious, some looking for a job. She wasn't surprised that a lady who appeared to likely be a vampire was hovering near the entrance for a while. But something felt off by this one. After years of meeting vampires, it was fairly easy to tell the decent ones from the chaotic ones. She really did not like the chaotic ones.

Walking over to the door, she opened it slightly. Not a true invite to come in. "Yes? Can I help you?" She asked as politely as she could.

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Open Wanna Don't Wanna
Posted by: Armel Koch - January 17, 2019 – 5:23 AM - Forum: Pennyworth - No Replies

January 9th, 1889

(( Song Prompt for Thirty Song Challenge ))

There he was, at the public owlery with letter in hand. Addressed in both English and Turkish, on his way to get a wax seal to make certain it was not tampered with on its journey.

A vague, upbeat update in the tone his sister Yasemin had long perfected since the family’s first departure into Constantinople. Talk of promise, of opportunity on an overgrown island that was too far from the continent to get in trouble personally and yet just close enough to start it. But there was no war. Their currency could be half the bloody lira and it would still be sort of tempting.

Alright, maybe not that tempting. Galleons to lira was the reason he was in this conundrum. He was making more now that he wasn’t under Baudelaire’s thumb. He wanted his family to have all they needed and more – perhaps they already did.

But he also wanted... more.

Ugh. He’d barely miss it once it was gone, and if he kept telling himself that he might even start to believe it.

He’d gone back to his old post office in Pennyworth, as he wasn’t keen on answering questions like ‘what language is that?’ at the McPadraic Estate.

His shoulder bumped someone on his way, and he paused to look up.


He had an accent of some sort – German, or Prussian, or something similar from the sounds of it.

“Excuse me – philosophical question.”
Look, he’d already bumped into this person so how much worse could their opinion get? “Say you visit a … cousin. Would you rather he buy you a beer first thing or wait and have him arrange for some top shelf wine to send you home with?”

Okay, not quite Nietzsche.

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Private Are You... Board?
Posted by: Blossom Spinnakers - January 17, 2019 – 4:53 AM - Forum: London - Replies (5)

January 16, 1889 - Magical London
It had been ten whole days since the article regarding the funeral home, and since then there had been other rotten anti-vampire news. What a frustration. To be extra cautious, she had issued that all human employees remained in separate rooms from her as much as possible so that they were safe from her loosing her temper and possibly lashing out. Not that she really did that often. But one could never be too cautious.

Right now she was far calmer, calm enough to even be around humans she didn’t know. This lead to her deciding to shop for more supplies for her shop to get things off of her mind. Wooden boards were part of the list.

Carrying that as her last purchase, she hadn’t noticed the person in front of her as she tried not to drop said boards. This lead the poor girl to be bumped into. Thankfully not too hard as to knock her over, but it was still quite embarrassing for Blossom. "My apologies" She stated, disappointed in herself.

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  Daisy Jackson
Posted by: Daisy Jackson - January 17, 2019 – 4:33 AM - Forum: Accepted - Replies (1)

Full Name: Daisy Jackson
Nicknames: [If any]
Birthdate: December 1, 1783
Current Age: 105
Race: Vampire
Occupation: Embalmer at Spinnakers Funeral Services
Reputation: 5: full fledged vampire
Residence: London
Social Class: Working
Family: None, that she knows of.
Hair: brunette

Eyes: brown

Skin: tint of blue

Wardrobe: She ties to keep up with the times, but is almost always a few years behind in fashion. Unless her outfit is in ruins, she won’t buy new clothes.

Dominant Hand: right

Height: 5ft 1in
Daisy has the sharp teeth that comes with being a vampire
1783 | Daisy Jackson is born to a working class pureblood family.

1784-1794 | In the years between her birth and her first year at Hogwarts, she gains three younger siblings and loses her father to illness.

1795 -1798 | Upon going to Hogwarts, she is sorted into Ravenclaw. She excels at her studies and is able to continue on to her second and third year with some financial help.

1798 | One night, while working over the summer to help her family and debate on if she should return to her fourth year or stay and help her family instead, she is attacked by a vampire. The vampire is scared off with some help from a passerby, but the damage is already done. They are Muggle and don’t realise exactly what they’d stumbled upon. A few hours later, she wakes up and is horrified by her new craving for blood. She runs away and doesn’t look back. Forcing herself to forget about her family, she wonders.

1818 | After twenty years of wandering and getting blood from willing civilians (aka ‘human blood banks’), she finds herself in London when she finds out about a funeral home owned by a vampire, who employees other vampires. Because of her young appearance, she isn’t sure if the owner would employee her. While dead people's blood doesn’t sound appetizing, it does sound a lot safer than what she’d been doing. Despite being dead, she is a little squeamish about the job she’s assigned to do.

1821 | Having gotten a little less squeamish, and more used to the idea of blood from a dead person, she is still quiet shy around new comers, and when a new vampire starts working for the funeral home, she focuses on her job instead of getting to know them.

1852 | Miss Kenny, the new vampire, is taken under Miss Spinnakers wing. Which is slightly insulting given that Daisy has been there longer, even if Miss Kenny did introduce something new to the business.

1853-1888 | Business has been steady. Fewer humans work at the funeral home as the years pass. She thinks it’s better for them, anyway, since they’ll probably never leave the business (short of being killed or fired, anyway).

1889 | The funeral home appears in the paper. Miss Spinnakers is not pleased.
Personality: Quiet. Focused. Confident.
Turned | August 15, 1798

Physical Age | 14
Sample Roleplay Post: [At least a paragraph. Only required for first or canon characters.]
Name: Ocean
Age: 22
Contact: u know by now
Other Characters: u know by now
How did you hear about us?: [where or who?]

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