Did you know?

Victorians could hire 'professional mourners' to attend their loved one's funeral. These people would partake in the procession and were not allowed to speak, just look awfully sad! — Rune

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"The Prodigal Sister" for Ophelia Devine. Faked deaths, scandal, and schemes!
Kristoffer was going to be great at this, because he was great at everything. Also his memory was greater than everyone else's, because he bet no one else had ever lost their virginity somewhere exotic like Morocco. Hell, he bet no one else had even lost their virginity. Inexperienced losers.

Kristoffer Lestrange in Shining, Shimmering Splendour

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7 Deadly Sins

Complete seven threads, one where your character displays each of the Seven Deadly Sins — Pride, Lust, Sloth, Envy, Weath, Gluttony, and Greed. Each thread should be at least ten posts, with at least three being your own. Character accounts can be combined.


Too Much
Could I make it more clear?
Could I give you more time?
Did I say enough
Or maybe I said too much?
Let me in, let me wonder
Let me worry where you've been
Let me in, you can find me
When you find me we begin

April 3rd, 1888 — Rare & Exotic Imports, Cairo
They were going to die, they were going to die, they were actually going to die! This was all that Yasmina could think as she threw herself into the broom closet and held her breath waiting for her aunt to follow, preferably without the fire crab joining them. Fire crabs, generally speaking, weren't that bad but this one was not only sizable, but incredibly grumpy and eager to demonstrate its ability to burn the place to the ground. Apparently someone had thought it was a large bejeweled pot when it was really a heavily sedated fire crab.

Sadly, it was no longer sedated - it didn't even seem groggy!

Why was this sort of thing always happening? That she was recovering from a mild hangover did nothing to improve the overall experience she was having that morning - that she hadn't been able to sleep in should have been the first sign that her day would only get worse. "Auntie!" she hissed, unable to stop herself from yanking the woman by the shoulders backwards into the broom closet in her urgency to put the door between them and the infuriated crustacean. Were fire crabs even crustaceans or were they like seahorses in that they were no relation to actual horses?

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   Reva Khatri

Flicking her wand in the direction of the front door Reva first made sure that it was locked. They might lose customers for the day but if somebody came inside and got their hands burnt quite literally then Merlin only knew how quickly word would spread and soon enough they would not be welcome. Such thoughts were hers and hers alone, and Reva knew it, as the rest of her staff - family, she altered mentally, though she was less eager to claim them when they were running around like idiots trying, and failing, to catch a bloody crab! - well, the rest of them didn't worry about such things. Probably because they knew she was here to do it for them.

What she was not here for was to subdue a fire crab, or to be chased around the shop by one and yet both things were happening to her at once as she randomly shot spews of water over her shoulder and prayed that the flames were not going to light up the curtains. She heard a voice cry out as she ran but before she could turn arms were wrapped around her and she was pulled into the nearest cupboard, the door shut fast against the crab, whose scuttling feet could be heard beating against the door.

Letting out a sigh she blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark.

"Was bringing it here your bright idea?"
The door slammed shut and apparently not a moment too soon for there was suddenly a barrage of violent scratching noises as the fire crab attempted to gain entrance. How long would the door hold? Yasmina hoped long enough for one of the others to distract or disable the vile creature.

"My idea?!" she repeated incredulously, even a touch defensively. "Do you think I'm suicidal or just an idiot?" She'd never admit it now, but she would have thought it a valuable artifact if she'd come across it and she certainly hadn't suspected it to be anything but a gaudy ornament. Despite being a Khatri by blood, her adopted siblings had a better eye for such things than she did. It was exactly the sort of thing she'd bring back if she deigned to obtain things for the shop.

Feeling momentarily emboldened by the closed door now separating them, she yelled after the fire crab, "Piss off, you tacky freak!" She chortled for a moment and felt her boldness fizzle out as quickly as it had come to her. "I swear it's not normal to have things like this happen all the time, even for wizards." Not that there were frequent fire crab rampages but it felt to her as though some sort of ridiculous chaos was always taking place. Usually she was as good a sport as anyone else and often found it amusing either at the time or shortly after. However, she often found herself wishing they could be more like the rest of the magical population whom she had to assume lead far more normal and less tumultuous lives. Perhaps she'd have been able to do something more than hide in a broom closet if she'd been sent to an actual magic school.


If they were left to rely on the ingenuity of her young charges then Reva feared they might be here for some time – at least she hoped they would. Having to be patient was a much better fate than being burnt alive by a rogue crustacean, though she didn’t fancy doing the former with Yasmina screaming in her ear.

“When has anything in this place being normal?” She asked sardonically, taking a step away from the door but still keeping a wary eye on it. She doubted the crabs could understand Yasmina’s outburst – she refused to be complacent, in this job it was easy to get burned by making assumptions about something’s sentience – but they definitely knew their human prey were in here.

“When I get hold of those boys…” she muttered darkly, already striking a temporary line through Yasmina’s name in the ever-replenishing list of possible perpetrators of the various disasters that made up her day to day life. Pulling her wand from her pocket Reva conjured a trio of luminescent baubles to hover above them and she squinted as her eyes adjusted. “What’s in here anyway?”

She had known everything in this shop once, but keeping up with her lover’s hoarding, the boys’ extremely limited grasp of what constituted tidying up, and her own attention being commanded all over the place, things fell through the cracks. And apparently landed in this bloody cupboard.
Yasmina shrugged despondently in the dim light that had been conjured. "Don't ask me."

Wasn't this just typical? Was this going to be her life in ten, twenty years time? As much as she loved her family, her life didn't feel as though it was her own. No one had ever asked if this way of life was what she wanted, no one had ever given her another option. Her she was squatting in a cupboard with her aunt who'd seemingly spent her entire life moldering away in the stupid shop. Was she going to become her aunt? A childless spinster without ambition, content to settle with the shop passed down to her like an inheritance, collecting outcasts to fill the void and bury the realization that her entire life had been a waste and she was desperately unhappy? Perhaps it was unfair to her aunt, perhaps she really was content with her lot but Yasmina couldn't fathom how.

"Probably something equally unpleasant as what's out there." It'd be a nasty surprise, albeit not really a surprise at all. She lowered herself to the floor and prepared to get comfortable there. She wrapped her around around her knees, groaned, and buried her face in her arms. It was probably the hangover making her feel so morose.


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