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We'll Be Revolutionary
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April 6th, 1889 — Diagon Alley
For Conundrum Roulette

Whether it was your intention or not, your Saturday sojourn in Diagon Alley saw you wrapped up in the midst of a protest outside Gringotts—something about "the treasures of the vaults of the dead being left to rot". Regardless, the local authorities—a hodgepodge mashup of bank security and local constables, but no aurors at least!—were quick on the scene to break things up, corralling several parties they believed to be ringleaders in what can only be described as a makeshift cattle pen to await formal questioning. So that's a fun way to spend your afternoon.

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@Verity Travers/@Elladora Black @Jude Wright/@Elias Grimstone @Armel Koch/@Marmaduke Warbeck @Jonathan Lawrence/@Billie Farrow
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Merlin, she fucking hated London. It was grim, grey and overcrowded and whenever she had to visit for her mistress' sake Verity was in a foul mood for the rest of the day and most of the next. True, she would make every effort to keep that from Mrs Abercrombie but anybody below stairs had long since learnt to swerve clear of Verity until she felt clean of the city once more - usually a bath and a good night's sleep did the trick. Today she had woken with a sinking feeling in her stomach that had not abated as she floo'd and waited at the milliners for fabric there was every chance she might end up wearing herself to the May Day Ball, and frankly she wished she had trusted her own gut.

"Let go of me you bastards!" She spat like a feral cat as she was manhandled none-too-kindly into a holding pen that already contained three other people, all men, all much more likely to actually be involved in this nonsense than she was. "You've got no right to do this!" She shouted after the constables, taking several angry steps towards the gate and promptly having it slammed in her face.
If there was a demonstration about social inequality in magical London, Jude was unlikely to be far away. Granted, he hadn't been one of the organisers - "ringleaders" - today, but he couldn't quite fault the constables' logic in connecting the dots as soon as they'd seen his face. Which was not to say he wasn't irked by it - oh, he had plenty of rage today - but he couldn't call himself surprised.

So he was perhaps a little calmer than the woman who had just been hurled into the pen with them, her anger justified enough (even presuming she was part of the protest, as Jude had been with everyone). "They won't listen," he advised, a little thickly given the split lip he'd gotten in the struggle, when they had wrested his wand from him for non-compliance, as they said.  

"But there's no sign yet of the Aurors, at least," Jude pointed out. They'd be out faster if the constables and the bank authorities thought they had the matter well in hand - although, bad as the Aurors would be for arrests, the better it might be covered in the press...

Jude wondered idly if Kieran would get called out to cover this. (Fortunate, though, that Kieran didn't still work as Gringotts security, or this would have been... interesting.)

Watching the constable’s retreating back Verity was forced to conclude that the voice behind her was speaking the truth and she drove her boot forward in a swift kick against the bars, making a satisfying rattle but hurting her foot in the process. It didn’t surprise her. This was a bruised toe sort of day.

She growled her fury and swung around to take in her hopefully temporary cellmates. Two seemed to have given up any kind of struggle and were sat on the floor close to one another, both seemingly undisturbed by her jostling their cell. But the other looked like he’d put up a fight if his split lip was anything to go by, though Verity didn’t think she had ever seen anybody who looked so handsome whilst bleeding from the mouth.

“Well what would be the point of them now they’ve caught us hardened criminals?” Verity asked sardonically with a roll of her eyes, folding her arms in a huff and leaning back against the bars. “Assuming you’re not the one behind all this?” He might be, but she had more faith in his innocence than she did the constables competence.
It was laughable that the local constabulary had chosen him, an American, to be ushered into a makeshift cattle pen under the suspicion that he was some sort of protest ring leader. He had just been out, hoping to check in on an old friend who ran a shop in Diagon Alley, when he'd spotted the urproar. Jon was quick to turn away, and it must have been that action that had spurred two men to grab onto him. Perhaps, they had thought he was fleeing.

The wavy haired man had been quick to settle himself onto the ground, intent on waiting out the confusion. Why would he, a traveler who wasn't even born this side of the ocean, be concerned with whatever social justice war was going on? He knew he wasn't guilty.

Jonathan watched on as two of the other occupants conversed, one of which looked as if he'd been in an altercation. Maybe they were the real guilty parties. "As far as I see it, I think we are meant to wait it out until this is all sorted. The more we fuss, the more they'll think they have a case against us."
"No comment," Jude said, almost blithely - it would be what he said to the constables if they asked - but he also shook his head slightly, to express that no, he was not behind all this. He was inclined to return the question, but every time he opened his mouth the bleeding started again - so Jude pressed his hand up to the cut, for a lack of ice to set on it or his wand to conjure some, and settled for surveying the other people in the pen with an inquiring eyebrow. While the woman seemed infuriated by their situation, the man looked as though he was in completely the wrong place, like he had spontaneously been summoned from somewhere, a mixture of serene and bemused.

"They'll do their best to find one, whatever we do," Jude said grimly - a case against them, however unwarranted. "I overheard a group talking about storming the place - trying to break open some vaults - earlier." (Which was both too foolhardy and too illegal to even attempt, even on a day when there weren't constables and security out rounding people up. Regardless, if there was any real damage done, they'd want someone to pin it to.)

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