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 a thread started and set every month for twelve consecutive months. Each thread must have at least ten posts, and at least three must be your own.
Did You Know?
Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
Titus loved the room that he had been able to talk his parents into turning into his research room. He had been peering over a collection of books centered on his latest project. As was usually the case when he was working, he was very focused. His eyes flew over the pages about ancient civilizations and he considered creating a map based on descriptions provided. He could cross-reference with what matched various atlases...
He was so deep in thought that he didn't realize he had company until the large, ancient book he was currently burying his nose in suddenly disappeared and he saw a flash of teeth. He looked around and end up to find the flying tiger had once again taken possession of one of his belongings, the ancient book now between the teeth of a flying tiger that had no business being in this house, let alone one of his rooms.
"HADRIAN!" he yelled out his research room door, uncharacteristically loud as only irritation at his brother and his impractical pets seemed to manage to get out of him. He might have appreciated the tiger most anywhere else but not in the sanctity of his research room!
“You wanted me?” Hadrian inquired, poking his head in the door casually, as if Titus had politely said his name, and not bellowed it from a different room. (Hadrian wasn’t used to being wanted, so – but he knew he was home so rarely that when he did come back, he always suffered the trial of being in great demand.)
But Titus had saved him from his mother’s company, for a moment – and oh, look: “Nezzie! There you are,” Hadrian said (in a baby voice), launching himself at the flying tiger to scratch his back affectionately. “That’s a good boy. Are you trying to make friends with Titus?” he asked the tiger, looking amusedly between his brother and Nebuchadnezzar without much noticing or caring what Nez had in his mouth.
Titus was even more annoyed by Hadrians nonchalance. He grimaced at the baby voice being used and for a menace. "He is no ones friend nor is he a good anything. Look what he has done to by rare edition. This book is more valuable than the both of you combined."
“Oh, harsh and cruel,” Hadrian said, with a melodramatic clutching of his chest in hurt at Titus’ tirade. He might have paused to insist upon his own worth (both as a renowned explorer and collector and a winsome brother, generally), only he could see Nez’s presence was grating on Titus, so he relented, and started trying (unsuccessfully) to coax the book out of Nebuchadnezzar’s mouth. “Look, I’m sure I can save it,” Hadrian assured him cheerfully. Nezzie growled, digging his teeth deeper in.
“Come here –” he instructed his brother, now pulling at the book with all his weight and needing Titus to prove a counterweight by tugging the tiger in the opposite direction (or prove an irritating distraction to the creature, if Plan A didn’t work). “See, if you just hold him down –”
Titus ignored his brothers melodramatics and frowned as Hadrian tried getting his book back. At least, that was what he hoped Hadrian was doing. It would be rather irritating if Hadrian was purposely trying to ruin his life.
"I am not touching that thing," Titus protested, not wanting to be anywhere near the tiger really. Hadrian had ruined the allure of them for him.
“Suit yourself,” Hadrian said, with a roll of his eyes, “but don’t cry about the teeth marks in your book.” He had moved his grasp from the book itself to trying to pry Nezzie’s maw open, prising apart the teeth with force. Nezzie gave him a muffled growl in response. If Hadrian didn’t know better, he’d think the tiger had learned how to scowl.
(Had Titus always been this scowling and crochety, or had that come on with age, Hadrian wondered sarcastically.) “Come on, try scratching him just behind his wings. He likes that,” Safer than his front end; and perhaps it would distract him. “What’s this precious book about, anyway?” Hadrian had not made a habit of keeping up with Titus’ personal interests if they diverged at all from his own. Titus had always been more valuable to him as an assistant, so it was odd to think him his own person with his own interests at all.
"I do not cry," Titus snapped a little childishly. Hadrian had a way of bringing that out of him.
"Ancient civilizations. Ones even older than Avalon!" Titus said as he reached to scratch the tigers ears, distracted from his earlier protests about touching the tiger by divulging his current project.
