Welcome to Charming, where swirling petticoats, the language of flowers, and old-fashioned duels are only the beginning of what is lying underneath…
After a magical attempt on her life in 1877, Queen Victoria launched a crusade against magic that, while tidied up by the Ministry of Magic, saw the Wizarding community exiled to Hogsmeade, previously little more than a crossroad near the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the years that have passed since, Hogsmeade has suffered plagues, fires, and Victorian hypocrisy but is still standing firm.
Thethe year is now 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
Complete five threads of five posts or more where your character experiences bad luck, such as stepping in a chamberpot, losing the rings for a wedding, etc...
Did You Know?
One of the cheapest homeless shelters in Victorian London charged four pennies to sleep in a coffin. Which was... still better than sleeping upright against a rope? — Jordan / Lynn
If he was being completely honest, the situation didn't look good, but Sylvano was not in the habit of being completely honest about anything. No reason to start now.
— Sylvano Capobiancoinyou & me & the war of the endtimes
Today the bet would be settled: who was in fact the fastest on a broom between himself and Jeong Ahn-Bo-ssi? In Rory’s mind, it was an obvious question. He’d been racing around on a broomstick practically since birth and he hadn’t stopped playing or practicing quidditch just because he’d graduated either. He wasn’t sure the same could be said of Jeong-ssi. Sure, ne, fine— Mahoutokoro players were well renowned for being light on their broomsticks and excellent manouverists, but Rory would be damned before he let Hogwarts take second fiddle! So, he’d proposed a bet. They would both enter the Frost Spirit Hunt on broomsticks and the first of the two of them to cross the finish lined owed the other a debt. (They would settle that much once the race had taken place.) It was in this fashion then that Rory found himself in the participants tent, strapping on his quidditch gear and casting a few extra heating charms on his robes.
It was a frigid afternoon/early evening to host such an event. The semi-darkness around less well-lit portions of the track were part of the debacle they’d have to contend with, no doubt. Rory bounced on his heels impatiently, hands already clad in black dragon hide gloves as he blew on them more out of a gesture of good luck and superstition than any real feeling of cold. His broom, laying just nearby, was a few years old now but he trusted it with his life. He knew it had the prowess necessary to beat Jeong if he just kept light enough on his haunches.
Speak of the devil, Rory hadn’t seen his new rival enter the tent yet. He peered around curiously and wondered if - for whatever reason - the other might bail on him. It… hadn’t actually occurred to Rory to double check they were still on for this, their little bet. He’d been so wrapped up in his classes and getting assignments reviewed before the weekend that he’d taken Jeong’s word for granted and at face value. It would be disappointing to him if this had all been for naught, but he supposed he’d still enjoy racing.
Ahn-Bo had been looking forward to this event, which wasn't like him, but flying was different. Flying was his. Even after everything Yeom had taken, he couldn't take the sky. Or at least hadn’t figured out how to just yet. As he and Jin-a walked side by side to enter the tent, he tugged at the borrowed gear, adjusting the straps. The gloves were heavier than he was used to, the robes not quite fitted to his frame, but Carrow had been generous enough to lend him.
He'd explained weeks ago at dinner that he’d left his own gear in Joseon, keeping his voice light like it had been a silly mistake. Carrow had been kind enough to offer his own, and Ahn-Bo couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty about it. It wasn't entirely a lie. He had left his broom in Joseon—Yeom had reduced it to ashes years ago, along with the few belongings Jin had managed to rescue from Mahoutokoro.
Instead of ruminating on it, he shoved the memory aside and grinned at Carrow, sharp and playful. ”Annyeonghaseyo,” He said and gave the appropriate duck of his head in deference to his senior. ”Gamsahamnida for the gear, Mr. Carrow.” It was a little bit of a snug fit given their height difference and body types, but with a little magic from Jin-a (who had always been far better at those types of things), they’d managed to make it mostly comfortable. He rolled his shoulders, enjoying the buzz of adrenaline. With a smirk, he tossed over, ”Ready to lose, Hogwarts?”
At the sound of a Joseoneo greeting, Rory turned on his heel and spotted Jeong - well both the eldest Jeongs, actually - walking towards him through the tent. Immediately a wide, sunshiny grin tore across his features. He inclined his head and made the appropriate gestures of greeting, including a small hand wave of the thanks for letting Jeong borrow his gear, and then did a little jig on his toes. “Lose?!” he echoed in disbelief. “Hah!” (Worse even that he was being likened to his school. The whole of Hogwarts glory rested on his shoulders now!) “Keep dreaming, Mahoutokoro.” Well that was an unpleasant mouthful, even in Joseoneo.
Moving past it, Rory settled a bit. “I almost thought you weren’t going to show up,” he admitted, still grinning. “I should probably have sent along a note to confirm. Mianhamnida,” he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “But I’m glad you’re here! Both of you,” he amended politely with a slight bow in Jeong Seojin’s direction. The eldest merely bowed in return. He was painfully shy, wasn’t he?
“Ahn-Bo-ya, I’ll wait for you in the spectators tent with our brothers,” he said before clapping Jeong-ssi on the back and turning to take his leave. "Jal hae." Rory wondered if he’d said something rude; he wasn’t used to speaking Joseoneo outside of the house and only informally at best. Deciding it wasn’t worth commenting on because he couldn’t be sure, he picked up his broom in distraction.
Ahn-Bo Jeong
* "Do well!" or "You can do it!", here 'good luck' meant for abby
Grinning, Ahn-Bo laughed at Carrow’s reaction. Some people didn’t take kindly to some lighthearted teasing and trash talk. Though they’d only met the once, he’d had a feeling that the professor would take it easily enough. Thankfully he’d been correct, or this could have gotten very awkward—not just for Ahn-Bo but the entire Jeong family. Ambrose Carrow was the eldest son of his family, and it was his father and he that Yeom cared about most. That would cause a ripple effect and put a strain on the relationship with Taesu; both he and Jin-a would be upset with him…
”Gwaenchayo,” he said, this time it was his turn to wave his hand. Just because the wolf had been counting down the days to this event didn’t mean that Carrow had. Ahn-Bo was surprised at Jin’s coldness—the man seemed nice enough, and he usually had a good read on peoples characters. It was likely just the vampire being overly protective of Taesu again. He thanked his ‘hung’ in Joseono, and once he was out of the tent, he turned toward Carrow a bit sheepishly.
”Don’t mind him; he isn’t very friendly,” he did his best to sound reassuring. It was then that his eyes landed on Carrow’s broom, widening in appreciation. ”Aigoo, what a beauty!” He’d been out of the quidditch world for a long while, and though he would eye the latest broomstick models in shop windows, he would be the first to admit he wasn’t up to date on which was the best.
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Ahn-Bo speaks in Korean to his family unless otherwise stated in posts.
He has a noticeable accent when speaking in English.
His apology was waved off and Rory felt some of the concern in his belly abate. Jeong Ahn-Bo seemed perfectly affable and ready to be friends. And although he was still a little squirrelly about the cold reception from Seojin-ssi, Rory tried to focus on the bright side and just gave a little nod at the brother’s excuse. “Gwaenchanseumnida,” he parroted back, dismissively. He wasn’t going to let himself get concerned over a simple interaction. Things had seemed fine a few weeks ago at dinner, and out of five brothers he couldn’t assume he was going to get along with all of them anyway. (But if something in his chest pinched at the idea of Taesu-ssi’s eldest brother disliking him, Rory brushed it aside quickly.)
Jeong-ssi’s exclamation as to his broom soon pulled Rory’s attention back to it and he held the thing up like a prize. “It’s my greatest treasure!” he beamed. “Faster than a wick and impossible to beat.” He smirked in Jeong-ssi’s direction. “But your broom is arguably better than mine,” he added, gesturing to one that rested neatly beside where his own had just been. “One must win fair and square,” he said in English, teasingly. Then, switching back to Joseoneo: “This is my brother’s broom. It’s a newer model with better steering sensitivity.” He gave a shrug and hugged his own to his chest. “But when I beat you, it will be because I’m faster not because I have a broom advantage.” He flashed Jeong-ssi a devlish grin.
Ahn-Bo's breath caught when Carrow gestured to the broom. Newer model. Better steering sensitivity. He moved toward it slowly, crouching to run his hand along the polished wood. It was perfectly weighted. The kind of broom he used to take for granted at Mahoutokoro (although broommaking had come a long way in the last decade or so.) He picked it up and it was as if no time at all had passed. His grip found the right position automatically. Even though it had been years—his muscles knew exactly what to do.
He grinned widely, absolutely thrilled. The wolf was truly grateful that Carrow’s brother had been kind enough to lend him such a work of art. He would take care of it just as well as if it were his own. Although none of that sentimentality came through when he shot back with a laugh, ”If I didn’t know any better, Mr. Carrow, I would think you’re giving me the better broom so you can use it as an excuse when you lose.”
With the cool, polished wood in his hand, that old familiar thrill sparked up his spine. Gods, he'd missed this. ”Gamsahamnida,” he added more sincerely, meeting Carrow’s eyes. ”Really. It's been a long time.” The grin came back, then with a cheeky challenge in his eye. ”But not long enough that I've forgotten how to fly circles around chasers.” That had been the point of his position as beater, after all. Hitting bludgers at chasers to keep them from scoring. And he’d been good at it too. Carrow was lucky there wasn’t any of that involved. Ahn-Bo would have no qualms about knocking him off his broom.
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Ahn-Bo speaks in Korean to his family unless otherwise stated in posts.
He has a noticeable accent when speaking in English.
Jeong’s awe and care as he examined Ignatius’ broom appeased Rory enough that he decided he liked Jeong Ahn-Bo. Not just superficially in the way one was supposed to like others in society, but actually liked him, as a potential friend. It was great that they had things in common, and he seemed to be rather personable. At the responding tease, Rory laughed again. “We’ll see,” he chirped playfully.
Jeong’s gratitude then would have been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so genuine. Rory had half a mind to wave it away dismissively, but as that would feel rude, instead he returned the slight bow as an acceptance of the thanks. “Gwaenchanseumnida, jeongmal,” he confirmed before laughing again at the quip. More to the point of being friends however, Rory decided to blaze forward in what was probably a glaring faux pas that couldn’t be helped. Not if they were ever really going to be friends.
“You don’t have to use honorifics with me,” he responded, decidedly. “I’d honestly rather you didn’t. Rory, or Rory-ya is just fine.” The grin on his face was sincere as Rory said as much. “Anything but ‘Ambrose’ really, that’s what Eomma calls me when I’m in trouble.”
Ahn-Bo Jeong
* It's nothing, really - but formal, for strangers
![[Image: ahnbo.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/ahnbo.gif)