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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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Ester Montgomery for Thomas Montgomery. The one that got away (with the pornographer...)
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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The Journey Home
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November 24, 1888 - Edges of Hogsmeade near Pennyworth
Billie Farrow

Dry leaves crunched under Galina’s boots, the dry root of the forest crumbling by her slight pressure, raked behind her by the edges of her cloak in a continuous rustle as she moved. A twig snapped underneath as she continued on her way, warning whatever might come near that something moved in the forest. The noise she made did not bother Galina in the least for after all she was the predator here. If she felt like stealth she was more than capable of moving silently between the trees, but here in the muggle forests just south of Hogsmeade Galina had no need for silence, no prey to stalk only her thoughts to pursue as she continued on her way home.

For the past few weeks she had traveled to London to visit Ishmael, in part for a change of scenery, but mainly to take her mind off her missing sister. It was likely that by the time she returned Mari would have settled back into her forest area (the caverns shunned by the older vampire in favor of a rocky almost clearing) and so Galina’s mind was indeed off of Mari. But what remained was thoughts from her visit. It wasn’t something Ishmael had said, it was something she had heard on the streets of muggle London as she passed through to leave, the hood of her cloak pulled up so her face was buried deep in its folds. A vampire ran an establishment. It was a rumor, but rumors like that were oft true and Galina had found her curiosity piqued. The establishment was a funeral home, fitting given their nature, something that would likely blend into Ishmael’s argument for their feeding habits, but it was an establishment nonetheless. Not only that but it was one that was working a healthy business from what Galina could see.

A tendril of jealousy had wound its way around Galina’s mind as she watched from outside, but more curiosity. She had never known a town well enough to try and settle a permanent business into it - or perhaps that was only what she had told herself. Mari had always wished to leave after a year or two in any civilized city and Galina had kept her skills to limited jobs and no store fronts. But perhaps…. the thought that remained replaced the jealousy with something else. A pragmatic evaluation of the idea at hand. Mari and herself had stayed on the edges of Hogsmeade for over a decade now, she knew it chafed at Mari, but Galina found herself liking it. It had its annoyances of course, but what didn’t. Perhaps Mari could be swayed to see the ingenuity in starting a shopfront for Galina’s creations. Not likely, Galina was aware, but always worth a try. The shopfront of another idea that Galina would need to consider, it didn’t even need to be a shop yet, but she had worked as a seamstress for other towns before she might be able to do so again. The sewing had been to help them blend in, when she had first learned, but now it was out of boredom that Galina sewed the elaborate and fashionable gowns she made for herself and Mari. If they were to stay in Hogsmeade perhaps Ishmael was right in trying to live in a place not just visit, perhaps this was the way to do just that.

With hurried steps Galina continued hardly paying attention to her surroundings. Her mind formulating arguments for Mari - for surely Mari would be back by now. Around her dusk dappled the sky as she skirted the edges of Hogsmeade, absent-mindedly passing by the edges of the trees and watching the town as she moved. It wasn’t until she smelled blood that Galina was brought out of her thoughts.

Ahead of her a young boy with messy brown hair and almost respectable clothing was holding his arm. She couldn’t quite make out the blood just yet as the final strands of yellow and orange sky began to dip below the treeline, but she could smell it. An old concern rippled in Galina as she approached, glad for the child’s distraction of their arm as she pulled the hood of her cloak up to hide her face. She’d eaten recently on the trip back, but she didn’t like to give anyone the chance to notice anything if she didn’t have to.

Are you alright?” Galina called gently to the young boy as she approached him with careful grace, not wanting to hurry and startle the poor thing. Each step closer giving her a greater chance to inspect the young thing and try to make out what had happened.


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an amazing bee work of art
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Billie sniffed pathetically, her arm cradled against her chest. She didn't like to cry. It always seemed to make one stick out like a sore thumb, and nobody took little babies who weeped seriously. Not to mention, it showed others you were weak, and then they realized they could hurt you even more. Even in ways that weren't physically painful.

However, she was alone, so she allowed herself the moment to permit a few tears to escape from her eyes as she worried over the gash on her arm. What was more concerning was how she was supposed to explain it to Gideon. She didn't want him to have to patch her up all the time. When she'd gotten into scrapes in the past, her mother had been furious. Often, it was easier to just hide it than to admit anything was wrong.

But the blood that seeped into her sleeve was telling, and she was ashamed to think that perhaps she had ruined it. She loved her new clothes. She never felt as though her limbs were about to freeze off. Maybe she could wash it. At least, nothing had been torn since she'd rolled her sleeves up prior to the altercation.

All the while she anxiously debated what to do, she hadn't quite realized she wasn't alone until Galina was nearly upon her. When she spied the woman heading in her direction, she hurriedly swiped an evidence of crying away. Though, it was impossible to conceal the puffiness to her eyes or the pink flush that lingered in her cheeks.

Billie dropped her arms down to her side with a grimace and forced a smile onto her face. "Yeah, I'm okay. Jus' out for a walk is all." She fibbed, not wanting to admit anything had been wrong in the first place. She squinted at Galina, unable to fully see her due to her hood. She assumed she must be cold, though the fact she couldn't view her completely made her a bit uneasy.

"That what ya doin', too?"


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Awesome signature by MJ!  Thank yoooou!


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