rain, midnight rain - Printable Version
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+- Charming (https://charmingrp.com)
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+---- Forum: Knockturn Alley (https://charmingrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=83)
+---- Thread: rain, midnight rain (/showthread.php?tid=16880)
rain, midnight rain - Joni Woodswell - April 3, 2025
April 3rd, 1895 - edge of Knockturn Alley
The weather, Jo has long come to understand, is the same no matter what side of the coin someone lands on; if it was dreary and raining and foggy in muggle London, then it was dreary and raining and foggy in magical London. (And didn’t England love her dreary, foggy days full of rain?)
Cutting through Knockturn Alley, while one of the faster ways to get home and out of the weather, was not a choice many would make; it would undoubtedly be a dangerous venture for most, let alone a woman... but she'd never had much trouble. Not Joni, who towered over the common bloke on the daily; she, apparently, cut enough of an intimidating figure to avoid being accosted (especially, she supposed, with her the hood of her old cloak pulled up all ominous-like).
As she sloshed through a puddle that dank evening, her damp shoes slapping wetly against the aging cobblestone as she turned a corner, it was a combination of the rainfall and her damp, droopy hood that she partially tripped over something. Her palm scrapped against the brick wall as she caught herself, instinctive curiosity getting the better of her as she glanced down over her shoulder.
Well, not something then: someone.
Turning back around, she hesitantly crouched down next to the slumped lump of a person. Were they… dead? This was Knockturn alley, after all…
Carefully (gently), she clasped a shoulder and gave it a shake once, twice – just to see.
Cutting through Knockturn Alley, while one of the faster ways to get home and out of the weather, was not a choice many would make; it would undoubtedly be a dangerous venture for most, let alone a woman... but she'd never had much trouble. Not Joni, who towered over the common bloke on the daily; she, apparently, cut enough of an intimidating figure to avoid being accosted (especially, she supposed, with her the hood of her old cloak pulled up all ominous-like).
As she sloshed through a puddle that dank evening, her damp shoes slapping wetly against the aging cobblestone as she turned a corner, it was a combination of the rainfall and her damp, droopy hood that she partially tripped over something. Her palm scrapped against the brick wall as she caught herself, instinctive curiosity getting the better of her as she glanced down over her shoulder.
Well, not something then: someone.
Turning back around, she hesitantly crouched down next to the slumped lump of a person. Were they… dead? This was Knockturn alley, after all…
Carefully (gently), she clasped a shoulder and gave it a shake once, twice – just to see.
RE: rain, midnight rain - Ivy Sandow - April 17, 2025
Oh, she should have brought in a partner for this one.
The confundus charm had her addled, and she knew she couldn't apparate like that, so Ivy took off at a run — shoes pounding against the cobblestones in the same rapid rhythm as her head throbbed. Once she no longer heard the sound of the dark wizard's footsteps behind her, she stopped to throw up in an alley, and stumbled forwards until she reached the wall.
She leaned against it, sinking until she was squatting, and then sitting on the floor. Ivy wasn't sure that it had just been a confundus charm — she felt terrible, out of control, her hands numbing — but there was nothing to be done for it now. She would stay here until she regained enough of herself to stumble to the hospital, and —
she started at the shake of her shoulder. Despite her state, Ivy couldn't help but yelp at the large figure.
The confundus charm had her addled, and she knew she couldn't apparate like that, so Ivy took off at a run — shoes pounding against the cobblestones in the same rapid rhythm as her head throbbed. Once she no longer heard the sound of the dark wizard's footsteps behind her, she stopped to throw up in an alley, and stumbled forwards until she reached the wall.
She leaned against it, sinking until she was squatting, and then sitting on the floor. Ivy wasn't sure that it had just been a confundus charm — she felt terrible, out of control, her hands numbing — but there was nothing to be done for it now. She would stay here until she regained enough of herself to stumble to the hospital, and —
she started at the shake of her shoulder. Despite her state, Ivy couldn't help but yelp at the large figure.