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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

Where will you fall?

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Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
What she got was the opposite of what she wanted, also known as the subtitle to her marriage.
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sleeping on the job
#1
January 12, 1895 — Library

Lucy didn't generally leave things to the last minute, but she found herself on Sunday evening in the library, a half-finished Charms essay in front of her, and a feeling of shamed embarrassment. The worst bit was, she was only half-way through the required length, and she'd already run out of thoughts to put to parchment. Homework wasn't usually this hard for her, which made the whole the exercise more frustrating. And as time marched on toward the time when she'd have to go back to the dormitory, she was also battling a tiredness borne from the stress she was putting on herself.

So, it probably oughtn't have been such a surprise when she dozed off. One moment, she'd been staring blearily at her essay, and seemingly the next someone was shaking her awake. "Huh?"


#2
Hauke made a terrible habit of combining a late-night stroll with a good book. He ambled, one slow step at a time, watching the floor for obstacles over the top of the book as he idly skimmed the page. At this late hour it wasn't usually a problem. Students were meant to head for their beds, by now, or at the worst lingering about the Great Hall with the remnants of their suppers, so Hauke did not expect to stumble upon any in the deepest corners of the library.

The strap strap of a bag pulled Hauke from his half-present reverie. He looked up from the tome in his hands and stuttered to a stop. Nonplussed, he stared for a moment at the stooped back of a sleeping student-- parchment for a pillow and quill still close at-hand. It seemed terribly early in the semester for that. Not that he had ever been the sort to judge another's sleeping habits. He had no right, given the hours he kept most nights.

"Miss-" he started, then hesitated. He did not know the girl-- not one of his First Years, certainly-- and felt half-bad for waking her. Clearly she needed the rest, but he could hardly leave her with curfew creeping upon them. Gently, he closed his book and set it on the nearest shelf. "The library will be closing soon," he kept his voice low, hardly expecting her to hear but hoping it would somehow ease the start when he gave her shoulder the gentlest shake.




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