January 27th, 1895 — Selden Household

It was incredible what one could do with dark magic, even when one could not find the ritual one actually wanted, or when one was not using a ritual at all. Some of the uses were rather petty — sending a bout of bad luck to a former classmate, or heightening the effects of a party potion. With a few drops of blood and a muttered Québecois incantation, one could even shove some malice into a brick, malice that would continue if the spell was fed some more blood periodically. And if one had found the right brick, that malice could take out a family's floo, often enough to ensure repeat visits, strange enough to ensure that it would likely not be tied back to her. (The malice's other habits — increasing the temperature of the drainage pipe in the scullery, and snuffing out the fire early. Morrigan only hoped there would not be unforeseen consequences.)

The first time the floo broke, their visitor had not been The Woman. This was frustrating, but not a major setback. It would break again, Morrigan was sure. A few weeks passed and she was right, because there was the woman, looking at her floo. Morrigan had born intentions of using her Monday off to leave the house — they were gearing up for an extended visit from Cousin Edgar, and some of the preparation was irritating — but swiftly aborted the scheme, despite keeping her coat on. It would be helpful if The Woman thought she was leaving soon.

She stepped into the parlor and leaned against the doorframe. "This is the second time, you know," Morrigan said, raising an eyebrow. It would not be the last, either.

Effie Clarke Elias Grimstone

The following 2 users Like Morrigan Selden's post:2 users Like Morrigan Selden's post
   Drusilla Pettigrew, Effie Clarke

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set by Bee

Selden. She had seen the name on the incoming outage report, marked as owner of the residence of said private fireplace – and she had wondered whether it was also hers.

But she had repressed that avenue of thought, and started on the problem. Or would have, if she could figure it out – but she hadn’t figured it out from the office, and now that she was here, she was still having trouble.

She was combing her wand through the fireplace, scanning for the source of the fault for the third time. Her brow was already furrowed before the voice, and Effie glanced over her shoulder from where she was kneeling on the hearth. She felt her chest tighten – irrationally, but. Not just a Selden: Miss Selden herself.

She didn’t know Morrigan Selden personally, though after unsuspectingly meeting a friend of hers earlier in the month, Effie had resolved to better avoid Miss Selden’s circles if she could. Not from fear or any such thing – Miss Selden was still a Miss by her own choice, after all, and at Brooks’ expense and particular humiliation – but just because it seemed sensible not to engage.

But she supposed this could not be helped. “Yes,” Effie said, polite – but she was not prepared to apologise when her colleague had evidently fixed it and closed the case before. She had looked over the logs before coming, of course. Miss Selden seemed to have on her way somewhere – and she assumed not the one to report the fault – but since she was here, Effie felt compelled to make inquiries. “And it’s only this fireplace having problems? The only Floo that seems blocked in the house?”

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