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
August 22nd, 1890 — Morocco vs. Britain World Cup Match
Howler Stadium
These are hardly the best seats in the house—five long benches, designed to fit seven bodies but ticketed as if they fit eight, are positioned one behind the other without any staging, making the frontmost bench the place to be. Still, you are glad to be able to attend at all, and the seats were a bargain at a sickle apiece.
The only food present is what's been brought in by spectators, and Merlin help you if you need the toilet.
Early in the match, your box catches a glimpse of the snitch and you see this as an excellent sign: even if you struggle to see the bulk of the play, you may well have a front row seat when the seekers are properly in business!
There are 40 seats and 10 unique characters available in this box. In your first post, please update to show how many seats remain available. For example, if your character is there with a family of five, 38/40 would become 33/40.
— This counts as a group thread for camp charming! —
Are your characters stuck in the smalltalk loop?
Does your imagination feel like it just can't perform as it used to?
Mid-thread crisis getting you down?
Unable to get that post up?
Is your relationship suffering because of your inability to satisfy your partner?
SUFFER NO MORE!
With a little intervention from The Suggestionizer your RP life could be back on track in no time!
Known side-effects include: chronic ridiculousness, immense satisfaction, itching, uncontrollable laughter, burning, deep regret, despair, shock, horror, incidental dismemberment, joy, and death. Use at your own risk!
Friendless was glad to have had sickle to spare for a seat. These weren't as good as the ones he'd had in the match against Hawaii but beggers couldn't be choosers. He had a bag of roasted chestnuts as well, enough to share if anyone wished to have some.
39/40
endy's gender is hard to discern from voice and appearance alone
goes by multiple aliases - but mostly by Nico set by mj!
With an unused ticket to his name, Christopher Moony had a little bit of extra room on the bench.
He had not even invited Ned to the match—he had learned that the boy (and Anne, too) had been invited to a private box, and had not wanted to put his son in the position of choosing. It wasn't that he worried the Gryffindor would choose friends over awkward father—indeed, he expected him to—but Kit had not wanted to force the boy to grapple with the decision, to cast a shadow over what ought to have been a delightful afternoon.
And so, he came alone.
He had taken his vantage point at one end of the bench nearest to the action, which afforded him a glimpse of...mostly everything, if he was willing to crane his neck a bit, but he could not help but hope the proper action would drop down a level or two so that it might be more fully enjoyed. Already, the wizard was feeling the loneliness of his solo status, and a distraction would be more than welcome.
Even having snuck her way to the front of the box, and found herself shoved onto on overcrowded bench for her trouble, Verity was having a thoroughly miserable time. She hated Quidditch. Her attendance today was purely a perfunctory one – any incidental happening she could store away in her mind might come in useful the next time she was called upon to take her mistress’ place and Mr Abercrombie had ever given her the money for the ticket.
He didn’t know about the ulterior motive of course, the poor sap, he just thought he was being kind, but Verity bitterly wished he had stumped up the extra for her to have a decent seat for a galleon.
Even the walkways to the box stank to high heaven and Verity’s eyes were fixed on the play, willing it to get a move on.
“Do you think it will be a length match?” She asked of the nearest man who looked like he knew a thing about Quidditch. Hadn’t they already seen the snitch and wasn’t that an indicator that things were nearly over?
Are your characters stuck in the smalltalk loop?
Does your imagination feel like it just can't perform as it used to?
Mid-thread crisis getting you down?
Unable to get that post up?
Is your relationship suffering because of your inability to satisfy your partner?
SUFFER NO MORE!
With a little intervention from The Suggestionizer your RP life could be back on track in no time!
Known side-effects include: chronic ridiculousness, immense satisfaction, itching, uncontrollable laughter, burning, deep regret, despair, shock, horror, incidental dismemberment, joy, and death. Use at your own risk!
"I should be very disappointed if not," Kit answered the woman as Britain made another goal. All the goals in the world, though, would have no bearing on the length of the match—and he had a wager down that it would last between four and five hours—if the snitch wasn't sighted. Based on the performances of the seekers thus far, Kit himself had glimpsed the snitch more recently.
Based on the commentary, you would never know it's a fairly close match. The beaters seem to be, unusually, the real stars today—if stars were violent things hell-bent on kneecapping their fellow space objects.
Are your characters stuck in the smalltalk loop?
Does your imagination feel like it just can't perform as it used to?
Mid-thread crisis getting you down?
Unable to get that post up?
Is your relationship suffering because of your inability to satisfy your partner?
SUFFER NO MORE!
With a little intervention from The Suggestionizer your RP life could be back on track in no time!
Known side-effects include: chronic ridiculousness, immense satisfaction, itching, uncontrollable laughter, burning, deep regret, despair, shock, horror, incidental dismemberment, joy, and death. Use at your own risk!
Craning her neck towards the sky Verity briefly saw a bludger flying towards one of the players but everything quickly became a blur. Somewhere above - a distance that felt like miles from down here - the Abercrombies and their family could presumably see whoever the intended victim was, but she was none-the-wiser. Even the names announced were a mystery to her, with the exception of the MacFusty name that she had seen in Witch Weekly on occasion. Which one it was though she couldn't have said.
"The commentator seems to be rather over-excited. Is it always like this?"
Woe to the person who sat behind Wallace, for he, Eva, and Fergus all sat squashed on one of the benches further to the front of the box. While the other two were short in stature, Wallace was not. However, he was determined that the pair of them would be able to see and had rather aggressively shoved them onto the end of the bench. They'd misplaced someone in the process, but he hardly noticed.
A thunderous laugh erupted when the announcer informed them of another kneecap injury. "These Moroccans are brutal." He sounded utterly delighted and looked to Eva when he said it, but his voice was loud enough to carry to the other occupants in the box. It was interesting to have no stake in the game since neither team represented the country he hailed from. In fact, it was almost more fun.
Wallace nudged his son and thrust a finger out at the field, "See, that's something a little doxy like you can do. Take 'em out by the knees!" He laughed heartily again and ruffled his hair.
Rose could have probably afforded better seats, the quality of her dress, the richness of it's material and fabrics was proof positive enough for that. However, the scandal that her presence might have caused in the box was not worth the hassle. Her business thrived on deniability- no one knew who she really was, or at least no one would admit to it, because that would mean they knew of her business true nature which reflected as much on them as on her. But quiet unspoken scandal was acceptable to most of society - everyone could pretend they didn't know her music hall was a bordello, they could assume she ran a second rate musical venue and bar, while ignoring the fact that their sons and husbands visited her business every chance they got. She recognised more than one person who had ended up in her section however, and as was required, she pretended she didn't have the foggiest idea who they were.
She was really only here so she might be able to make all of the appropriate small talk about the match should the occasion arise, and she had reason enough to believe that either a few of the players, their hangers on, and the more drunken match attendees might find their way to her business once the match was done. 'So very agressive' Rose remarked to no one in particular in her southern drawl. 'They seem fit to kill one another out there today.' she remarked, keeping little more than a passing eye on the match.
Frankly, Kit was amazed the earlier chasers hadn't bowed out of the game—even if their knees weren't literally shattered, it had to smart something awful!
Verity turned a haughty gaze upon the other woman, edging surreptitiously closer to one of the gentlemen in the box as she did so. Those silks were far too fine to belong to a respectable woman and Verity further cursed the game organisers - not only was she confined to a squalid box with strangers but they weren't even the right sort of strangers!
She glanced back at the game, just in time to see what looked like one of their players being hit violently in the knee. Honestly, this was all so terribly beastly! Cassius - for she knew him well enough even if he didn't know that - really ought to get a move on and catch the bloody snitch!
"OH MY — ARE YOU OKAY?! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LACHLAN MACFUSTY'S BLUDGER HAS GONE STRAIGHT INTO THE STANDS INTO ONE OF THE BOXES!!!" you hear the announcer proclaim. From your vantage point, you're not sure where the bludger has gone.
Are your characters stuck in the smalltalk loop?
Does your imagination feel like it just can't perform as it used to?
Mid-thread crisis getting you down?
Unable to get that post up?
Is your relationship suffering because of your inability to satisfy your partner?
SUFFER NO MORE!
With a little intervention from The Suggestionizer your RP life could be back on track in no time!
Known side-effects include: chronic ridiculousness, immense satisfaction, itching, uncontrollable laughter, burning, deep regret, despair, shock, horror, incidental dismemberment, joy, and death. Use at your own risk!
No sooner had the words left the commentator's mouth Verity was out of her seat, craning over the edge to look above, cold dread settling in her stomach.
No, no, no, no - don't you dare be dead!
There were dozens of boxes in the stadium and hundreds of people, possibly thousands, so the likelihood was low but still Verity couldn't reason her heart out of her stomach.
"Did you see which way it went?" She asked the nearest person, panic not far from her voice.
Eavan had let the boys have the first match to themselves, but now, with Wallace and Fergus in tow, (or rather she was in tow thanks to Wallace), she'd been able to see the world cup at play for herself! Even if they were jam packed into small seats, she was beyond thrilled to have finally gotten her way to go. Beau had put up just a small stink about her, though her little tiny baby bump wasn't at all visible under a normal dress like the one she had on today, he was still understandably nervous.
Murph was right though, it was positively brutal, far worse than any quodpot match she'd ever seen and those exploded! The beaters seemed to really have it out for the other players today- and the fans apparently!
The next thing she knew there was a roar of a ruckus above them where the bludger went into a spectators' box and between the screaming and the announcer's voice over the pitch, Eva knew it wasn't good. "Oh, that's not good, not good at all." She winced, wondering what would happen next.
"Above us certainly," She answered the panicked woman's question quickly. "A mid-tier box maybe?" Honestly it was hard to tell.
"Definitely one of the higher boxes," he said as he took note of where the players on the pitch were all staring towards. The best seats were the higher up ones so it was definitely one of the wealthier folk that had likely gotten hit. "Look where all the players are looking towards - that's likely where the bludger went."
endy's gender is hard to discern from voice and appearance alone
goes by multiple aliases - but mostly by Nico set by mj!
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![[Image: aSJQ2Q.png]](https://i.ibb.co/ZY6zQTJ/aSJQ2Q.png)
![[Image: 5caoIZi.png]](https://i.imgur.com/5caoIZi.png)
