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.
With the same account, complete eight different threads where your character interacts with eight different usergroups. At least one must be a non-human, and one a student.
Did You Know?
Braces, or suspenders, were almost universally worn due to the high cut of men's trousers. Belts did not become common until the 1920s. — MJ
Byron had been sent off to the Harvest Festival to get some shots for a brief filler piece. It was not even guaranteed to be published. At least if the gripes of the gossip reporter assigned to the article was anything to go by. They had decided they need not stick to one another for this so Byron had wandered off. There were several activities going on so Byron made sure to get a good shot of each. He was thankful for the enchanted camera bag he had that accommodated his bulky magical camera and equipment as well as making them lightweight.
Once he had gotten some shots at the petting zoo, he tucked his things away into the bag and wondered what to do next. He felt something bump against his leg and saw one of the sheep had come to him for pets. He poked its coat (fur? wool? He wasn't sure which it was actually called, he was nof farmer) and found that it was not fluffy like he had expected but rather a bit coarser. "Hello and what's your name?" He asked of it as he gave it more of a pet.
Ara didn't get out very much, and she rarely realized it until she actually made the effort and found she enjoyed herself. Case in point, she was currently enjoying herself quite a bit at the harvest festival, and had already taken part in much of the festivities by the time she got around to the petting zoo. She'd just barely escaped a young goat who had tried to turn her dress sleeve into its dinner when she pet it, and had instead wandered over to the sheep when she came across a fellow petting zoo visitor, talking to one of the residents. "Do farm animals get names?" she wondered aloud. She had no experience with farming, to be fair.
Byron had not noticed the young woman or he would have wandered off elsewhere. Was she talking to him? Byron had to assume so. "I wouldn't know," Byron said. He didn't own a farm. "But if I had a farm, I would name them."
"If you had a farm, that would probably be a lot of animals to keep track of," Ara mused. Not that she would know. Being here now was as far as her experience with farms went. "You'd need a good memory to remember them all."
"Then I suppose I would keep a roster or something. Though not all farms have a lot of animals." Besides, what was it to ,her what he did with his hypothetical farm? He went back to petting the sheeps coat. "It's amusing to me how coarse wool actually is when it is so fluffy in clothing."
Ara shrugged. "I suppose not." She supposed farms were the same as owning anything, when you got down to it--some had more than others. "What are those machines called that they use to make thread? I don't know what they do to the wool, but they certainly do their job well." She certainly couldn't argue with the difference between the fleece on the animal and the product that came out of it.
"I'm not sure but I know one of the machines utilized is called a carding machine," Byron supplied after some thought. He was not fully educated on the subject but he had read news here and there where one might have been mentioned. "I am now a little tempted to look into the process." A passing fancy, probably.
"Hmm." Ara supposed someone really ought to care where things like wool came from and how it got made into something useful. She just didn't think she could ever be that person. "Well, I'm certainly glad someone's figured how to do it, however it's done," she said. "Terribly useful, whoever came up with it."
"I know I'm grateful for a warm knit blanket on a cold, winter night," Byron agreed with a chuckle. He was no longer well practiced with socializing so there was a moment of awkward silence. Or at least it felt awkward as he focused on giving the sheep some pets. "Some people seem to simply brilliant in their inventions, I always feel."
