June 18th, 1888 - Woodcroft House, Pennyworth
“Three, Mr. Caulfield.” One of the investigators said to him, passing him the paperwork. He didn’t particularly do paperwork but he did read through it on occasion.
“Pennyworth?” He asked, a slight break in his voice.
“Yes,” the investigator responded, “parents and a young girl. He broke in and reports suggest he’s being rather uncooperative. But we’ve already got someone on si-"
Charles didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he interrupted the investigator by shoving the paperwork back into the investigators hand and moving straight toward the station, grabbing his outer-robe on the way out. His wand was with him though he knew it was worthless.
His face was stone-like and bitter.
“Everything alright, Mr. Caulfield?” Another employee said as they sat next to him on the train.
“Same shit.” He said, his gaze out the window; fingers picking at his nails.
After what seemed like an eternity, Charles arrived at Hogsmeade and showed his ID Pass. Without checking out properly with the guards, Charles ran as fast as he could straight toward Emmeline’s house.
Two parents and a young girl. In Pennyworth. He didn’t care about anything else. His mind was too focused on making sure Miss Woodcroft was okay. Since they’d first met, and the second time, the two had exchanged a few letters and he’d found himself rather enjoying her company – however brief it was and in spite of the fact it was mostly through letters.
Turning the corner, he ran up to her house and narrowed his eyes to see if there was any distinguishable lights. No. He couldn’t see any. Without looking, he leapt over a fence and toward her door. He couldn’t knock; that wouldn’t do well. If this wizard was violent, Charles would have to catch him by surprise. So he’d take the door down.
Taking a step back, Charles… walked into someone? What? He stood up and turned around with a confused look. Emmeline? His brows raised, “Miss Woodcroft?” He leaned a little forward, “Aren’t you-“ He turned around. Oh. Well. At least she was okay? He turned back to her and ran his hand through his hair, panting a little, “I thought I’d stop by. How are you?”
“Pennyworth?” He asked, a slight break in his voice.
“Yes,” the investigator responded, “parents and a young girl. He broke in and reports suggest he’s being rather uncooperative. But we’ve already got someone on si-"
Charles didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he interrupted the investigator by shoving the paperwork back into the investigators hand and moving straight toward the station, grabbing his outer-robe on the way out. His wand was with him though he knew it was worthless.
His face was stone-like and bitter.
“Everything alright, Mr. Caulfield?” Another employee said as they sat next to him on the train.
“Same shit.” He said, his gaze out the window; fingers picking at his nails.
After what seemed like an eternity, Charles arrived at Hogsmeade and showed his ID Pass. Without checking out properly with the guards, Charles ran as fast as he could straight toward Emmeline’s house.
Two parents and a young girl. In Pennyworth. He didn’t care about anything else. His mind was too focused on making sure Miss Woodcroft was okay. Since they’d first met, and the second time, the two had exchanged a few letters and he’d found himself rather enjoying her company – however brief it was and in spite of the fact it was mostly through letters.
Turning the corner, he ran up to her house and narrowed his eyes to see if there was any distinguishable lights. No. He couldn’t see any. Without looking, he leapt over a fence and toward her door. He couldn’t knock; that wouldn’t do well. If this wizard was violent, Charles would have to catch him by surprise. So he’d take the door down.
Taking a step back, Charles… walked into someone? What? He stood up and turned around with a confused look. Emmeline? His brows raised, “Miss Woodcroft?” He leaned a little forward, “Aren’t you-“ He turned around. Oh. Well. At least she was okay? He turned back to her and ran his hand through his hair, panting a little, “I thought I’d stop by. How are you?”