Charming is a Victorian Era Harry Potter roleplay set primarily in the village of Hogsmeade, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the non-canon village of Irvingly. Characters of all classes, both magical and muggle — and even non-human! — are welcome.

With a member driven story line, monthly games and events, and a friendly and drama-free community focused on quality over quantity, the only thing you can be sure of is fun!
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    01.11 I've got a bit of a reputation...
    01.06 AC underway, and a puzzle to solve!
    01.01 Happy new year! Have some announcements of varying importance.
    12.31 Enter the Winter Labyrinth if you dare!
    12.23 Professional Quidditch things...
    12.21 New stamp!
    12.20 Concerning immortality
    12.16 A heads up that the Secret Swap deadline is fast approaching!
    12.14 Introducing our new Minister of Magic!
    12.13 On the first day of Charming, Kayte gave to me...
    12.11 Some quick reminders!
    12.08 Another peek at what's to come...
    12.05 It's election day! OOC, at least.
    12.04 We have our PW winners for November!
    12.02 New Skins! In less exciting news, the AC is underway.
    11.27 AC Saturday and election next week!
    11.21 A glimpse at post-move changes.
    11.13 This news is not at all big. Do not bother with it.
    Don't They Know It's The End Of The World?
    Private Thread 
    December 1883

    Paul had been excited when they first discovered the Mayan temple. Finally, a thing in this never-ending wilderness that he was the expert on! He had come on this trip in order to discover such buildings. At least his journey with the Sycorax hadn't been for nothing.

    It had been fun and games at first. He had symbols and runes to study. Then, the mysteries of the temple became clearer to Paul.

    He now knew that the world would end one day.

    Maybe it was his mother's influence. She believed that there would be a Day of Reckoning, that The Evil One would one day take over the world, those sort of things. Paul had also witnessed too much death and doom in the past year.

    He could hear John Darrow calling him from upstairs- probably because Paul had been hogging the wand all morning. At present, he was shedding light on a wall, trying to make up what the symbols were trying to convey.
    [Image: m26IMP.png]
    worship this set by lynn
    Alfred had no intention of going down there if he didn't have to, particularly when the one wand remaining to the three of them had already been swallowed by the darkness of the floor below them. It was dark enough a dozen meters from the entrance, where the slanting sunlight didn't reach down the corridor, but the bottom floor was an entirely other matter. If he went down there with one of the makeshift torches (which he had gotten rather good at making, since the shipwreck) and some sudden draft or a stumble on his part caused the fire to go out, he might be stuck wandering around in that dark abyss forever.

    Well, no, not forever; only until he starved to death.

    He had grown accustomed to the wilderness, but at least outside there was a sky, and the promise of sunlight and moonlight, and all in all Alfred much preferred it to this damned tower. That being said, he had decided somewhere in the back of his mind that it was his responsibility to ensure that Paul did not become so obsessed with his runes that he ended up dying (a real possibility, if he was left to his own devices and allowed to skip meals), and it was dinner time. He'd hollered for him from the top of the stairs for a minute or two, but with no response, so now it was time to go down there.

    With a flaming branch in one hand and Ringo back at the entrance smoking the meat from what he'd caught today, Alfred descended into the unknown. "Paul!" he called out as he started down a hallway. "Pull your head out of your arse for a minute--the food's nearly done!"
    [-] The following 1 user Likes J. Alfred Darrow's post:
       Paul Pince
    Paul only half heard his friend say something about dinner because he had made a discovery.

    He had suspected that the symbols in front of him were numbers. He had been trying to decode them all day and now he was pretty sure that he had done that. If his estimation were correct, the world would end very soon.

    Two thousand.

    It didn't occur to Paul that the Mayans didn't track the time the way Paul did.
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    worship this set by lynn
    Alfred knew that Paul could hear him, wherever he was. The thing about walking around in what was essentially a long, hallway-shaped tomb with stone walls was that when you made loud noises, they echoed. Unless Paul had been attacked by something and was dead, or had decided to take an impromptu nap and was sleeping very heavily, Alfred was fairly certain he was being ignored.

    He glanced back at the stairs with an irritable sigh. He really didn't want to go out of sight of them, but Paul, it seemed, was being difficult, and the fire wouldn't last forever.

    "Paul!" he called again, trudging off into the dank corridor. "I know you're down here, mangy pedant!"
    Paul was trying to grasp what he had discovered in the symbols. It all pointed to one thing: that the world would end in a little over a century. Or that it would change for the worst. There would be a new order of things.

    He had reason to believe that the people who had built this temple were wizards and that some of them had the Sight. It was a snobbish opinion in the magical historian circle, that the ones responsible for architectural wonders such as this one had magic. How could a muggle build a pyramid such as this one, after all?

    John called for him once more.

    "John!" Paul called back this time. "Come! You have to see this!"
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    worship this set by lynn
    Oh, finally, he'd decided to answer. Alfred trudged off in the direction of the voice, wondering what it was that Paul wanted him to see. Something exciting, certainly? There were things, however, which would be exciting to Paul that might not necessarily excite Alfred--like another staircase down to yet another impossibly dark dungeon. On the other hand, it might be something objectively interesting, like some artifact from civilization that would perhaps prove they weren't the first people to come through this way. That would be exciting to Alfred, because that would mean they could speculate on when the last people had been there, and where they'd come from, and where they'd gone--and maybe follow them to some sort of city.

    What he saw when he finally found Paul, though, wasn't any of those things. It was just a section of a wall with a bunch of symbols on it, much like every other. "What?" he asked, glancing from his friend to the wall. "What's so exciting about that?"
    Paul didn't expect his friend to be excited or even interested to the runes in the temple. They were only meaningless symbols to him. In all honesty, some of the symbols were sort of unimportant. There was a difference between describing the people's agricultural habits and the prediction of the world's end.

    "I am confident that these people were wizards," Paul said. He'd shared this theory one too many times already. "And this proves it, John."

    "Now, I figured that these symbols counted days, these ones days, months and years." He had found a wall which seemed to be describing pregnancy and other similar time-involving scenes.

    The Doomsday symbols involved people looking at a flaming round object that seemed to be coming from the sky. Next to that, the world seemed to be ingulfed in flames.

    "That looks like hell, John," Paul pointed out. "And if they are correct, hell will come upon us on the year two-thousand."
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    worship this set by lynn
    Alfred didn't really care whether the people who lived here originally were wizards or not, unless they'd left behind something useful. If there were storerooms full of healing potions, or something of that nature, he might have been inclined to care. Stories did him no good in a practical, survivalist sense, whether they'd come from wizards or Muggles or talking beasts or space aliens.

    Predictions of the end of the world or not, these were, at the end of the day, just stories. It wouldn't make a bit of difference as far as their lives were concerned, particularly since at present Alfred didn't really think they would ever have someone else to share them with.

    "Well," he said, not wanting to be entirely dismissive of something Paul was clearly interested in but finding it hard to muster up much actual enthusiasm, "I don't really expect to be around in two-thousand." He wasn't even really sure he expected to be around in three years, if things continued as they had.
    Paul actually laughed at his friend's words. "I suppose you have a point. Unless you live long enough to rival Armando Dippet's years." The thought of Armando Dippet living long enough to die in the Doomsday was all too amusing and Paul laughed once more.
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    worship this set by lynn
    Oh, good. Paul was laughing. That meant he probably wasn't taking this entire thing too seriously, and Alfred wouldn't offend him by reminding him, gently, that he needed to stop this nonsense and come eat something. He could tell them the rest of the doomsday story over food, if he wanted. Though Alfred wasn't particularly enthused by the idea of listening to Paul ramble about the ruins over dinner, he'd come to expect as much since they'd started staying here.

    "Right. Well. Dinner," he said rather unceremoniously, nudging his head back the way they'd come.

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