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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1894. 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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Okay, But Can We Keep It?
#1
November 19th, 1892; Evening — Avalon Glen, Wales

To call the day she had had eventful would have been a dire understatement, but upon returning to the Glen, Gwyn had given Howell only an abbreviated version of events, with the promise of more detail once she'd had a chance to sort out her thoughts—proper mature of her, if she did say so herself, even if it was only a stalling tactic. After all, she had told the gruff head dragonkeeper she had something to show him, and she did not wish to play her hand so soon.

The creche was a little-used stone building with a greening copper roof and heavy iron door. Both were necessities, as barn-sized structure bore one purpose: housing young dragons in the event they could not be in the wilds—usually because they were injured or rejected by a parent. Fortunately for the Welsh Greens of the valley, it had been vacant for the better part of two years.

"Now," she prefaced as she stood outside the door, "it is important that you keep an... an open mind," Gwyn settled upon. The stubborn old bear was not one for whom open mindedness was considered instinct.
Howell Howell


The following 1 user Likes Gwyn Conway's post:
   Howell Howell


WELCOME TO AVALON GLEN - Here Be Dragons
mj is an artiste
#2
Gwyn ought to know by now how he felt about surprises.

“How about I open my mind when you open that door,” Howell contended, still staring her and the building both down, arms folded.

Anyone left their mind too open and all their bleeding brains might as well fall right out of their skull.



#3
"Promise?" she asked, a cheeky smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Howell Howell




WELCOME TO AVALON GLEN - Here Be Dragons
mj is an artiste
#4
“No,” he acknowledged, less than graciously. “But I’m not standing here all day.” So she could keep pussyfooting around, or she could out with it already. Her choice.

(Howell sorely hoped this mystery presentation of hers was what it looked like, and was only a creche-sized problem at most, rather than a gateway to full-blown hell in a smaller disguise.)


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   Gwyn Conway

#5
The sigh Gwyn emitted reeked of "long-suffering", never mind the fact that, on balance, she was far more vexing to Howell than he to her. Still, the young witch knew she was unlikely to get any more out of him, and so, without further ado, opened the door wide enough to admit herself, then a little wider to allow for Howell's larger stature.

"Come on, then," she directed, slipping through the gap.
Howell Howell




WELCOME TO AVALON GLEN - Here Be Dragons
mj is an artiste
#6
Gwyn might be near twenty – or nearer sixteen, maybe, to be honest he couldn’t remember – but at her melodramatic sighing Howell had half a mind to tell her she had yet to outgrow the creche, herself. But they were making progress at last, so wearily – and blearily – he stepped into the dimly lit building after her and narrowed his eyes as he scrutinised the place.

“What,” he said, so flatly it couldn’t be mistaken for a question. “Explain.”


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   Aldous Crouch

#7
This was the moment of truth. Gwyn Conway was as stubborn as an ox, but Howell could be as stubborn as the very stones that built the mountains around them if he put his mind to it—and if she didn't make her case before his inevitable No,  there would almost surely be no recovery.

"She's one of the dragons from the Hogsmeade... incident," Gwyn offered by way of explanation tone almost convincingly nonchalant. "Oh, the Beasts Division transported the rest, however, but as it's altogether a new species of dragon—" she assumed, at any rate. The biology of the genus* had never particularly been her skillset "—it seemed rather a wasted opportunity not to obtain a...a sample."

As the young witch spoke, that creature in question remained upon her perch by the grace of a dainty, charmed shackle, but did punctuate Gwyn's little speech by hissing sparks in their direction.

* Indeed, Gwyn herself does not actually know the word "genus".
Howell Howell




WELCOME TO AVALON GLEN - Here Be Dragons
mj is an artiste
#8
For a long minute or two, Howell remained entirely silent, his eyes not straying from the miniature dragon on its perch. (Mostly because he didn’t want to see Conway’s no-doubt-annoyingly-hopeful expectant expression.)

What Howell wished he could say was something akin to and what will Mr. Yarwood say about that on his dragon reservation, hm?, but his hopes were dashed inside, because he knew full well that Madoc Yarwood, that overgrown boy of a man, would be summarily delighted by the surprise addition.

His eyebrows drew a little closer together, searching in vain for a rational argument. Finally – “And who do you expect to get the permit for it?” Howell growled, because – however it had been ‘rescued’, it would have to be legally kept. And that meant petitioning the Ministry for it, and filling out a great deal of paperwork, and naturally they would say yes, because if anyone was equipped to study a dragon like this, it was them. (And Howell already knew who would be expected to make the case, and he wasn’t much looking forward to it.)


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   Gwyn Conway

#9
She simply beamed at him by manner of response.

Lack of immediate "no", in Gwyn's experience, was almost certainly an eventual "yes".

"If you're worried about the care and keeping of it," she added helpfully, "I will of course take that on in addition to my regular duties."
Howell Howell


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   Howell Howell


WELCOME TO AVALON GLEN - Here Be Dragons
mj is an artiste
#10
Oh, like that made it any better.

“I’m more worried about leaving the two of you alone unsupervised,” Howell grumbled back. The miniature dragon was as yet a scientific unknown – and Gwyn, well.



#11
"To be entirely fair, though, we've been alone for a matter of hours now," Gwyn pointed out, still beaming. "The creche remains intact, I remain intact, and neither one of us has given you even the tiniest bit of a headache!"
Howell Howell




WELCOME TO AVALON GLEN - Here Be Dragons
mj is an artiste
#12
“To be entirely fair, a matter of hours does not inspire me with confidence,” Howell parroted back sarcastically, with a dark look to suggest he absolutely had a headache coming on. “It’ll be your luck she lives eighty years,” he added, in warning. One would imagine a miniature, clearly experimental species would have a contracted lifespan – but Howell, who was very good at expecting the worst, fancied this might be a headache that sustained him for a few decades at least.

Still, it could be Gwyn’s problem, until she, like everyone, inevitably fucked off somewhere and foisted the duty onto him.

(It was lucky he was a little curious about the tiny dragon before them.) “Is she settling yet?” He didn’t know how or when Gwyn had transported her, but dragons were capricious creatures.


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   Gwyn Conway

#13
It’ll be your luck she lives eighty years.

There it was. Oh, it was no doubt intended as a warning, but Gwyn had spent her life in Avalon Glen, and had stalked the Keepers relentlessly since adolescence. She knew Howell's assent, however reluctantly given, when she heard it. Her face broke into a broad grin.

"She's a feisty one," Gwyn admitted ruefully, "but so am I, so we should get on well enough. Once she's more... adjusted, I'd like to take her out and see what she can do. Chain on, of course," she added hastily. Gwyn was bullheaded, occasionally reckless, but she was not stupid.
Howell Howell




WELCOME TO AVALON GLEN - Here Be Dragons
mj is an artiste
#14
Howell pretended he didn’t see her horrifically big grin.

“You’ll send for me first, when you do,” Howell instructed, wasting no more time or energy on the grumbling about this situation. Gwyn could have primary responsibility for this specimen – it did match her in size, after all – but he’d be damned if he didn’t take an interest in it too. “And keep a good Keeping Log. She have a name?” Howell usually gave all the keepers a turn in naming rights when a new dragon was born here – some of the oldest dragons here had been his – but it seemed only fair that Gwyn choose it for this devil.


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   Aldous Crouch

#15
"Connie," she answered brightly. "After m'self, of course—men are always naming things after themselves, after all, and she nipped at me when I tried Gwyn. Connie, though, seems not to offend her overmuch!"

His other instructions were ignored as a given, at least in her mind.
Howell Howell




WELCOME TO AVALON GLEN - Here Be Dragons
mj is an artiste
#16
“Connie,” he sighed, though he didn’t protest to the choice. There were worse names to have. (He said so himself.)

“Mind she doesn’t turn out too much like you,” Howell added, entirely deadpan, but the pat he gave her on her shoulder as he turned back for the creche door might almost pass for fond.

“And I’ll come to find your body if you’re not back by seven sharp, alright?”


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