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Charming has a number of lonely plots looking for love. Why not take a gander and see what hijinks your character can get up to? — Kayte ( Submit your own)
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A Governess for Leo Lupin.
The most pitied woman in all of Britain. Possibly all the world. He's awful.
"I'll bleed wherever I damn well please!" She shouted, scowling at him. As if to prove it, she uncovered her nose and shook her head back and forth like a dog attempting to dry its fur of water. Little droplets of blood rained on the sidewalk all willy-nilly. Billie Farrow in A Good Dusting
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Shadows on the Wall
June 14th, 1890 — Hogsmeade Slums
With Miss Scott returned safely to her lodgings (if they could be considered that), Cyrus began to make his own way home. The pair had worked late into the evening; it was not yet midnight, but the healer suspected it must not be far off. Their patient had been a woman of a certain occupation who had tried a homebrewed remedy to rid herself of a developing pregnancy. In his former life, both her profession and this particular decision would have been things he looked down his nose at her for, but since his initial transformation, Cyrus Westerman had grown increasingly sympathetic to the lower echelons of the world.

The pair had done their best, but the woman had not survived the ordeal. Before departing, he had reminded her friend, who had fetched them, to procure such tonics only from trusted midwives in future. 

He was perhaps three blocks from Miss Scott's current address when he noticed a shadow dogging his own and his hand moved to rest upon his wand; four blocks later, the wizard chose to confront it.

"Are you following me?" Cryus asked, tone annoyed, rather than angry, as he turned to face...whomever (whatever?) it was. His wand was in his hand properly now—one was unwise to take chances in this part of Hogsmeade.

MJ is pretty nifty @ graphics, if I do say so myself!
Rose had only seen him out of the corner of her eye, when she was leaving the old seamstresses' house.  She was a misty-eyed old thing, soapy and degenerate from an over-reliance on drink, but she could sew like the finest atelier in Paris.  Rose kept her supplied with food and drink, even paid her rent, in exchange for sewing work and costumes for the girls of her music hall.  She had been dropping off fabric and had been just shutting the door behind her when she saw him exiting another house on the row, looking grim.  The darkness in the alley hid all but some of the detail of his face and form. 

She was sure it was him! Healers bag and all! It had been nearly 10 years since she had seen him, they had both changed a great deal since then, but she had to know for certain.  She had tracked him and the lady he had been with down the alleys and the darkened streets of Hogsmeade.  Could he possibly be here in England? After all of this time? 

She had thought herself subtle and well hidden, up until the moment he stopped and turned to face her.  Cursing the fact that she had forgotten her wand, she fished a small switchblade out of her purse, a lady should never be entirely unprepared- it was dangerous in her line of work and London especially of late. It had been less than 6 months ago since another Ripper victim had been found.  Although Hogsmeade wasn't London, and the man had a wand, not a blade. 

'What are you doing here?' she asked her tone icy but vaguely controlled, what little threat a woman, albeit one with a blade posed to a male wizard who was armed.


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Stef made this and it's beautiful!
Even with only the dimmest of lamplight to aid him, Cyrus could tell the figure was a woman before she even spoke; at her words—or rather, her tone—the healer could not help but bristle.

"I do not know what it is you are doing or why you have elected to follow me," Cyrus spoke, ignoring her peculiar question altogether, "but if you'll not be forthcoming as to an explanation, I suggest you be on your merry damn way."

MJ is pretty nifty @ graphics, if I do say so myself!

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