Welcome to Charming, where swirling petticoats, the language of flowers, and old-fashioned duels are only the beginning of what is lying underneath…
After a magical attempt on her life in 1877, Queen Victoria launched a crusade against magic that, while tidied up by the Ministry of Magic, saw the Wizarding community exiled to Hogsmeade, previously little more than a crossroad near the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the years that have passed since, Hogsmeade has suffered plagues, fires, and Victorian hypocrisy but is still standing firm.
Thethe year is now 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
Complete a thread started and set every month for twelve consecutive months. Each thread must have at least ten posts, and at least three must be your own.
Did You Know?
Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
I had just been hoping to visit Irvingly in the next week - it's been a fair while since I have seen you, and besides that, I was rather keen to try my hand at fog-navigation - but according to the Prophet at breakfast today the fog is making people lose magic?
One might say the mystery is thickening just as fast as the fog! I am still tempted in part to come, if only to get away from my useless brothers and an Ireland that suddenly seems duller than ever, but that would probably be foolish. So! Instead: you must fill me in on everything that is happening in Irvingly, from your own perspective. Have you been out in it? Are the magical folk of Irvingly hapless without use of their wands? Have you stumbled across any more mysteries in the fog?
Otherwise, I hope you are well, and I am still hoping to
Indeed, it appears that the fog has taken away magic abilities. I find it has affected me rather little other than making it difficult to navigate, but my staff complains quite consistently about it. I admit, I believe you would fare rather well at fog-navigation, although even I myself have found myself lost.
Indeed, you ask of my own adventures, I shall begin to endeavor to write them here.
The first day of the fog, Marlene and I were out at the store. It was quite lovely and I had wished for a walk, you know that I often feel cooped up in my cottage despite my love for my solitude. We stepped outside believing it still as beautiful as it had been when we arrived, but the fog had rolled in. I became helplessly lost and had to enlist the help of a gallant gentleman to help me find Marlene and the store!
Beyond that the fog seemed to impede me little until a few days ago. I've grown use to it now, and don't seem nearly as agitated at the fog as my staff. I had ventured out again. Only this time I was accosted by a gentleman lost in the fog! Imagine my shock when my breasts were quite firmly grasped. For a moment I was unsure if the gentleman were honest or not. But I suppose I shall leave you in suspense until my next letter to ensure a speedy reply.
As for the magical folks, I can not rightly say if they are handling it well. My staff, as I have previously mentioned, are quite agitated at the lack of magic. Indeed, I've rather found myself helping out around the house to simply make sure we can get things done. I do wonder what other households must look like if my staff have conceded to allowing me into the kitchen to help with dinner.
The muggles seem equally bewildered by the event and struggling to make sense of it. But to my knowledge they have rather thought of quite magicless ways to deal with such a situation - such as lanterns and matches. I admit I rather enjoy seeing to their solutions when I am out and about.
You and your cliffhangers, damn it! And the very idea of an 'honest gentleman', pah! I take no stock whatsoever in that. However, since his accosting you has still left you the ability to write to me, I suppose I shall safely assume that he did not leave you for dead in a gutter. (I hope you left him for dead in a gutter? No one would know it was you, in all this fog. You might as well have. It sounds as though it was well-deserved.)
I suppose I'm not surprised about your staff, and the rest of magical Irvingly. The magical world is rather set in its ways, and most wizards nothing without their wands. At least the fog is serving to shake them out of it, I expect. Breaking the spell - quite literally. Apparently it is spreading to Wellingtonshire, now - not that this makes any difference to us, of course, only that it shall probably be keeping yet more of society apart. (What an utter tragedy, I'm sure you'll agree. Not.)
And how accomplished are you at making dinner now, then? I do hope you didn't manage to poison anyone. I'm joking, obviously - but I am pleased for your letter. Try as you might to lead a quiet life, Nimmie, you're not as shy of tales as you might pretend. One can always count on you for some sincere amusement!
Once more, I hope you murdered that man, or I shall be
You will be sorely disappointed in me, I assure you. The gentleman, the muggle innkeeper, was quite helplessly embarrassed. It seemed that he thought walking through the fog like it was a game of blind man’s bluff was the best way to proceed. I assure you he has quite figured out the error of his ways. One might even say I killed him - with kindness as the old and overused adage goes. We did part quite amiably.
I admit, on a side note, I am quite concerned about your concept of my abilities. While I may have been able to commit such an act in the fog on the mere idea of concealment, I have no idea where I might have learned such skills in my lessons. I did not think my education lacking…. I am beginning to wonder now my friend if it was indeed lacking.
I am inclined to agree with your sentiments on the matter. Perhaps it shall shed a new light on them (literally when the time does come), yet I find myself doubtful. Society hasn’t changed in centuries, why should it now? I do not find myself missing society, and yet, if I did need a reason for not participating in this year’s season, I feel I would have found myself quite at ease with this turn of events. I do hope you aren’t suffering too many stuffy drawing room teas and endless balls without my company.
Now accidental poisoning is certainly something I feel I might accomplish over intentional murder. Sadly it seems that cook feels the same way. The closest she’s let me to the food is steeping tea and setting out bread and jam for a lunch. No, they’ve rather been flustered enough to allow me to dust and straighten up. Perhaps I shall ask cook for some lessons if this fog holds out - she may be at loss enough to agree.
And I am glad for your letter, for you indulge me such tales. Even if you do not indulge me in my delusions of a quiet life.
Parting amiably, after that! He might have at least dropped dead of mortification! Are you sure he was not some sly (read: desperate) cad, trying to make the most of the weather in abetting him and simply feigning innocence after he had copped a feel? I'm sure I've never met the man in my life, but I shan't think that too far a cry from possibility.
Nimiane, darling, you are quite right to say your education was lacking; I am sure every woman's is. What use is all etiquette to us? What is a girl expected to do, pour some tea or curtsy to rogues and murderers? What are fans or parasols or bouquets of flowers for, if not to prettily conceal the sword? Some of us may have duelling to our advantage, you might say, but it does not do to leave any young lady out on such a front! And besides, one must have alternatives, when one's wand is not in easy reach. (You might be surprised what a friend even a lowly quill can be in such circumstance as that.)
Well, I say we shall see, on the matter of society! On the matter of suffering in society, I admit I have done my fair share, but occasionally there are bright spots among the bleakness. But I do look forward to getting to see people I actually like - and you among their number - eventually once more; I am not sure I could be sustained without it. On the other hand, I must say, imagining the musty shroud of all that fog is good for the poetic brain, at least. I have been keeping quite busy in that regard.
And you, dusting away! How very revolutionary your household has become. You must harass your cook for more - I am sure it would shock the next dinner guests you ever had, if you were to claim credit for a meal. One might not need poison after all, if only one can be shocking enough, and startle people to death.
In fact, I would say that is a rather grand philosophy all round.
The thought of the man’s nature had crossed my mind at the beginning of the encounter. But he was much too abashed for me to consider the prospect too closely. Unless of course he is an excellent actor I rather believe he was just misguided in his approach to this predicament.
Perhaps you shall have to show me the other talents my quill might possess as I find myself lacking in such a realm of knowledge. As I have no dueling that I can fall back on but only my own written words, this may prove useful if any brave soul thought of taking further advantage of this fog.
Then let us hope this expedition they have proposed shall find itself successful, for while I have no desire to be in society I do lack the companionship of a friendly face. Perhaps I shall even attempt to shock you with my first attempt at pudding as Cook has finally relented out of sheer frustration.
