Welcome to Charming
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
Maybe a choice shade of grey - the closest thing she had to mourning clothes - as a symbolic marker that her relationship with Victor was dead.
dining is pageantry

shells sink and dreams float;;
Sept 1, 1892 - Hogsmeade Station, nearing boats to make way to Hogwarts Castle
As Callum disembarked from the train, he must have somehow gotten separated from the others because one second he could hear Mirren chattering away, and the next he was much more alone, and very aware of it. Looking around in the chaos of what was many students milling about and going their separate ways, Callum frowned. He didn’t know the tiny red-head that well, but already he was starting to grow rather attached to her. Oh well, he supposed he’d see her back up by the castle eventually… whenever and however they got there.

Mama had told him stories about little magical boats that shepherded the students in their first year up to the castle so they could be sorted. If he was honest, the prospect of magical boats was much less interesting than it normally might have been due to the cloud of anxiety induced at the thought of being sorted. Callum swallowed a growing lump in his throat. Both Papa and Grandpapa had been Gryffindor, but Mama had been in Hufflepuff. Theoretically Cal knew that wherever he was sorted wouldn’t matter so much to them, but… well, he hated the idea of disappointing anyone, even by accident.

As he tried to shake the thought from his mind, Cal looked out over the heads of his many shorter peers. He couldn’t see Mirren, or even Tao or Max in the crowd and, as they were called to move on, he figured he was on his own for this part. Running a hand through red bangs and brushing them aside, Callum made his way through the crowd in what he hoped was the right direction. He didn’t notice as someone just before him came to a quick stop and, nearly plowing through them, the red-head’s eyes widened. “I’m terribly sorry!” He said, reaching out to grab at the girl’s sleeve before she could land on her rear. “I didn’t see you there.”

Their parents had dropped them and their brother off a ten or so minutes before the train had pulled into the station. Their brother had already given his obligatory goodbyes and good lucks and rushed off to stake a carriage for him and his friends leaving the twins alone with their goodbyes to their parents. They’d gotten the very typical ‘don’t do anything stupid, write home, watch out for each other, and we are proud of you’ lecture. Eventually, ready to make their way up to the boats the girls departed from their parents - and frankly, Rowan was pretty sure if they stayed any longer she’d get too nervous and just want to go home, and this? Hogwarts? It was a now or never kind of thing. They wouldn’t let her come back. She spun away, unadorned robes flaring out as she marched towards the boats, refusing to look back. She’d write home all the time and she’d see her parents for Christmas. She was eleven now - that meant she was a big girl.

Except she hadn’t realized that Lucy wasn’t with her. Where did her sister go? Stopping, she looked around, but suddenly instead of watching the sea of people, Rowan was watching the platform get closer and closer. But then there was a jerk on her sleeve and the ground abruptly stopped moving a few inches from her face. She huffed, flexing to propel herself back up off the ground upright again.

“It is fine,” the brunette amended, “You caught me and I’m not hurt so I guess no foul. You’re okay, right?”
Callum released the small brunette quickly and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He wasn’t used to touching people, especially girls, and he knew it wasn’t appropriate. Still, mama would understand considering he’d almost knocked her over! It was better to help someone than follow silly rules, right? Right. Eying the girl, Cal was surprised by how familiar she looked. Maybe he’d seen her on the train? Her easy reply gave him some respite from his anxiety though and the red-head breathed out a sigh of relief. “Right,” he replied quietly. “Er— sorry again.”

Students continued to mill about them and, anxious he was going to be late for something, Callum gestured in the general direction they’d both been walking. “Are you a first year too?” he asked. Maybe she would get the hint and they could walk and talk. If not, that was fine too. Mirren had to be around here somewhere and Cal was sure with his height he could probably find her.

He’d let go of her sleeve with speed that would make one think she might have been on fire. Or maybe she was just far too accustomed to touching other people's clothes - a proper consequence when one spends her life helping her ma and aunt in a clothing shop. Or maybe it was an etiquette thing. The speed at which he’d pulled his hands back reminded her far too much of the boys in the schoolhouse yanking their knuckles away from the teacher’s ruler. "I already said it was fine, you don't need to keep apologizing," Rowan stated bluntly, though assured that he was alright as well, she let her attention drift, half here and half somewhere else.

No, no, and no that wasn't her either.

With her half-filtered attention, she easily missed his gesture and barely caught his question as well. “Oh, um, yes we - I am. Sorry, have you seen another girl around? She’s got brown hair and looks, well, just like me?”
Callum winced a touch at the girl’s tone as she informed him to essentially stop apologizing. It only made him want to apologize again, really, but he refrained. This was an endless cycle that they could easily become trapped in. Instead, he watched the girl as her gaze drifted out over the group of students milling around them. She seemed distracted a touch, and he wondered why. Deciding it was best to probably leave her to her devices and try to find Mimi, Cal was about to excuse himself when the girl spoke again.

He was confused at first by her comment. There were a great many girls around with brown hair and it seemed a silly statement considering as much. But a girl that looked just like her? Did she mean a sister, or a twin perhaps? Callum scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Er— no, sorry.” he replied. Then, looking around as well, he supposed he might as well try and see if he could spot someone from his height. “Oh,” Callum said then, squinting a touch. “Is that her, over there?” Standing a little ways away there was a girl that looked exactly just like this one. So they were twins, after all.

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