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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1892. 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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“Got the morbs” was Victorian slang for a temporary melancholia — Dante
In a panic sort of reaction, she shut the door but neglected to make sure she was on the other side of it.
the thrill of the chase moves in mysterious ways


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The Great Comet
#1
12th June, 1892 — VIP (UC) tent, Lift Your Spirits Festival, Padmore Park
It had to be said: if this nation had one talent, it was for drinking spirits. Yassine ought not to be drinking – not that it had ever stopped him before – but nevertheless he had been, and he had begun to levitate a drink or two ago.

The novelty of levitating without a broom was entertaining enough, he supposed. And this was the VIP tent, so the crowd and the illusions were theoretically better – but at the back of his mind Yassine was still considering changing tack and seeing how the commoners were getting on, sure that he might play witness to a few mid-air brawls as the day wore on, if nothing else. (This was, naturally, more interesting to him than some illusions, however clever they were.)

As he floated, barely feigning interest in the light displays at this level, he glanced upwards to see if anything above was worth drinking more for – and realised something was cascading downwards at a rapid pace, something that was not an illusion after all. Whether in chivalry, or in a drunken challenge to test the speed of his own reactions (fine, almost certainly the latter), Yassine propelled himself sideways in the air, slamming bodily into someone else in the air to hopefully spare them both getting caught in the fall.

#2
Angeline had started early with her bad decision making that day and so it was that she had found herself floating – not unusual, generally – rather higher than most of the other revellers. Raph was supposed to be with her, although whether he was meant to be looking after her or she him was an ouroboros never to be ended, but as usual he had vanished and Angel was left drifting through the air like a woodland sprite.

Albeit one in a tent wearing a dress that would inevitably weigh her down in three, two, one…

And somehow, rather than breaking her leg, she crashed into a warm body and together they reached the ground with something approaching grace. And if she was straddling the warm body in the middle of a packed tent then at least she had done it gracefully.

“Mr Bensouda,” she greeted breathlessly. “My hero.”

[Image: m6ryy4h.png]
time of death: when MJ dropped this heart-stopping set
#3
From what height she had descended, he didn’t know, but she must have been way up there with the speed at which she had come drifting down. He clung on amidst all her skirts; but there was not too far left to go, so as they fell together he almost regretted intervening... until he glanced up again and found he recognised her.

Maybe it had been worth the trouble, after all. Now he felt almost lightheaded at his luck.

“A pleasure to collide with you, Miss Malfoy,” Yassine offered with the curl of a smile, not quite short-winded from it, but still making no rush of extricating himself. She could have done far worse, and he would not have been complaining. He nodded upwards, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Life at the top not to your fancy?”


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