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 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
See your character from sorting through graduation by completing at least one thread each year (10+ posts, 3+ yours) and participating in the initial sorting ceremony.
Did You Know?
Did you know? Before the 1920's, it was believed that the Milky Way Galaxy was the only galaxy in the universe. — Steph
Cash was chain smoking at Angie's kitchen table when she walked in. He waved a hand at her. His jacket was slung over the back of the chair; his sleeves were rolled up. He had a mystery book open at the table — whether she had arrived or not, he had planned on being here for a while.
"Am I in the way?" he asked. When she was out pop town, he treated Angie's lodgings as an extension of his own home — but she was obviously in town, and when she was he was happy to give her some space. (Merlin forbid that she bring someone home for activities when he was here.)
The itch to get the fuck out of London was becoming near unbearable, but Angie was resolutely staying put. She made made a distinct decision to stay the year and not take anything too far from home. There was far too much at play here and she wanted to make sure she was around and available to whomever needed her.
Which was why it was absolutely no surprise at all that she found Cash drinking bourbon at her kitchen table. Angie had an agreement with a wide variety of people who could use her apartment at their leisure as long as they left it as clean and as stocked as they found it. Cash had priority obviously, but others could use the space as well, when she was gone, or when she was in town. She never really knew how often Cash took her up on this, but considering she was home for the time being, it was nice to know he thought of it as a place he could find solace if needed.
"Never," she assured him with a grin as she deposited her shoes and bag at the door with a thud. "And only if you don't care if I strip out into something more comfortable." Despite never having done anything more than cuddle in her bed, Angie was far too comfortable with him to worry; it wasn't like he was attracted to what he saw. Ang didn't wait for an answer before unbuttoning her blouse and untucking it from her convertible skirt. The next thing to go were the few pins in her hair as she unfurled the long brown tresses from their captivity. "Hungry?"
Cash took a sip of his bourbon. His cigarette was getting close to its end. He'd seen Angie undressed in daylight more often than he'd seen his wife; her untucking her shirt was not anything scandalous. "I'm all set," he said, raising the cigarette up to her in salute. He didn't need to take up any of her food, he was determined; he just needed to occupy her space.
Angie pursed her lips, unsure as to how she should take the comment, but decided to let it simmer for a moment as she got more comfortable. She moved into her room, leaving the blouse on, but loosely, as she changed into a comfortable pair of old linen trousers are usually wore in warmer climates. The stay she wore instead of the restricting laces of a corset peeked out at the shoulder and are usually would have ditched that too if she were alone.
"Hi," Ang ran a hand over his shoulders as she moved by him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before starting the kettle for coffee. It was funny, the easy sort of domesticity they could display. This could have been any other day in another life.
Still, she couldn't tell yet if something was off, or if he just needed a little escape. Either was plausible, but she figured she wouldn't press just yet. Instead she just got out the frying pan and started making some eggs.
Her ease could be contagious for him; Cash shifted in his seat and kicked off his shoes. His sleeves were already rolled up, so there wasn't much else to do, but it felt odd to be wearing his shoes when Angie was floating around in linen trousers. He stubbed out the end of his cigarette on the side of his glass. He would have lit another one, but he wasn't sure she'd like it, so refrained and sipped at the bourbon instead.
He flipped a page of his book. "I would take a coffee, though," Cash requested, tone gentle.
She had anticipated that, had already put two cups worth of water into the kettle and as it sounded, she paused her stirring of the eggs to pour the hot water into the French press she had to let it steep for a couple minutes. "Give it a couple minutes, but I brought it home from South America, so it's good." She was a bit of a snob about her coffee and usually picked up enough in her travels to hold her over while in London. Whatever it was they imported here was never quite as good.
Ang tossed some bread into the toasting plate as her scrambled eggs came together. "Needed to get out for a bit?" She prompted lightly. That was what her flat was for, an escape to whoever needed it. Sometimes she just worried about why Cash needed it. With his own home, she'd thought maybe he'd be more comfortable there, now that he was out from beneath his father's roof, but his marriage was a bit of a mystery to her, so she was never quite sure.
Cash had the coffee before, one of the last times she was home — he was pleased to have it again. Angie got to go to so many places Cash was unlikely to visit, because — most of his visits were contingent on the family, and he was not sure that the family had any interest in South America. He stopped himself from sighing at the thought.
"It's quiet here," he said, a mild response to Angie's question. Not entirely the truth, but not not the truth, either.
Well it had been quiet until she'd come home and started cooking, but Ang didn't quite think that was what he meant anyway. Pouring two mugs of coffee she set Cash's in front of him, black like she took it, before she plated up her meal. She'd made more eggs than she'd needed, but figured he might pick at it if it was offered, so put a second fork onto the plate and tossed the toast on the side.
Ang took a sip of her coffee, used to the heat of it and the dark roast of south of the equator. Most people in their place would turn their noses up at the bitterness, but that was what Angie loved about it. "Oh that is so good. I hope I have enough to last me. I'm here until at least the new year." Probably longer. Angie was considering making a full-time move home given all of Cash's upcoming life changes. She wasn't getting any younger, but nothing was set in stone yet. She might hate the winter and flee for a little bit, pending how things settled between now and then.
He could have watched Angie drink coffee she liked all day; he did, before he reached out to grab his own mug and took a sip of it. They took it the same way, mirrors of each other.
"That's if I don't go ahead and drink it all on you," he teased. "You're here until New Year's?" Usually she was in and out more often, but — it would be good to have access to her whenever he needed, as long as he could apparate to London.
Nudging him under the table with her foot, not bothering to move it back from where she made contact, she teased, "If you drink it all, you're buying me more. And it's very expensive to ship in.". Ang was lucky enough to pick it up on her travels, but to get the good stuff here in London took the right contacts and the right galleons for it. As much as she loved it, she couldn't afford to have it shipped in.
"Yeah, the only big thing coming up isn't something I'm interested in." The trip to the Sahara really wasn't something Angie wanted to do, that wasn't a lie. At another point in her life she would have gone anyway because she needed to escape, but right now, she thought she needed to be home. She'd been on the run from life for a little too long at this point. Things were shifting and she hadn't been here enough and now she wanted to start fixing that.
"I think it'll be nice to be home for the holidays, too." She added after a bit of eggs, eyeing him carefully.
![[Image: Angie-New-Sig.png]](https://i.ibb.co/ZgWQ3jx/Angie-New-Sig.png)