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 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
With the same account, complete eight different threads where your character interacts with eight different usergroups. At least one must be a non-human, and one a student.
Did You Know?
Braces, or suspenders, were almost universally worn due to the high cut of men's trousers. Belts did not become common until the 1920s. — MJ
September 27th, 1894, Whitby Printshop, after hours
Tess had come up not too long ago and disappeared almost immediately. Sage knew that meant it had been a long day downstairs and as much as she would like to check in on her sister, she knew that she couldn't overstep. Tess would let her know if she needed something. Instead, Sage headed downstairs with a glass of wine for herself, and for Declan, along with a plate of the dinner she'd made. It was her day off, and so therefore her turn to cook, even if she hated it. They took turns and made it work, but it didn't make her cooking skills any better.
"Busy day?" Sage had worked well past midnight last night, handling what she needed to, in order to make it through the shift, but even after sleeping late, she was still tired. "I didn't want you to go home hungry." As if Decks couldn't have just come upstairs and gotten whatever it was he wanted. He wouldn't, but he could, if he wanted to, and nobody would have said anything. He was as much family as she was at this point. Sage took care of her own as fiercely as she could, and Declan, whether he liked it or not, was corralled into that group.
Sage perched herself on one of the nearby counters, hopping up with little effort after she set the wine and food down. She collected her own wine glass easily, taking a long sip. Last night hadn't been too bad, but exhausting both physically and mentally. If she weren't trying to learn from her mistakes, she would have sworn she just needed a good outlet of the pent up energy, but she couldn't exactly mention that to Declan.
It had been a long Friday. Deck thought things would slow down now that the Season was over, but some of the academics had gotten their prints to the shop towards the beginning of their respective school years, and academic print jobs were long. At the end of the job, he found himself sitting down next to the printing press, leaning back against it. He should get up, go home, and lock up the shop — but he wasn't in any particular rush, because he was exhausted.
He was still in this spot, trying to find the will to walk home, when Sage appeared. Declan smiled gently at her. "Thanks," he said, staying in his spot. He took a sip of the wine she'd brought. "You didn't have to."
Sage cast a knowing smile at him. "Of course I did, seemed like a long day." She had slept for half of it, the whirr of the presses below the flat upstairs always, unironically, helped her to sleep a little better. Of course she had worked just as long yesterday, it seemed like all they did was work these days. Sage couldn't really complain however, her work was her everything and she enjoyed it immensely.
"I can't guarantee it's anything spectacular, but just some roast chicken with vegetables." She had at least managed to get it cooked all of the way, so she wouldn't have to treat anyone for food poisoning in addition. Swinging her feet idly as they dangled from the counter, Sage took a sip of her wine and eyed him carefully. "Is that it, just a long day?" She wasn't sure if she was seeing something that wasn't there or not, but it wouldn't hurt to ask. He didn't have to tell her.
"Doesn't have to be spectacular to be good," Declan said, taking his first forkful. Kenna and Deck could not afford any help at home, obviously — and neither of them were particularly good cooks. Deck knew his way around, sure, and so did his sister — but it wasn't the same as a meal someone else had cooked, either at another home or at an inn.
"Just a long day," Declan added with a shrug, after swallowing his mouthful of chicken. He didn't want to articulate printshop drama — Fabian drama — to Sage if Tess hadn't; that was Tess' business.
"You guys were at it for a while." Sage nodded over her wine glass. She was sure she'd hear about it after Tess decompressed, or maybe it wasn't that big of a deal in the end. "I'm glad it's edible, at the very least." Sage chuckled in self-depreciation. The vegetables were almost overcooked, but it had been a while since she'd had to roast carrots and chicken at the same time without burning anything or things coming out at drastically different times.
Getting comfortable in her seat, Sage drew her legs up to cross them beneath her, arranging her skirts haphazardly to allow for the movement. She'd barely gotten dressed today, there wasn't much need to when she was sleeping for half of it and at home for the rest, but the soft blue cotton dress was at least one of her favorites. Resuming her wine, she eyed him again. "You know you can sleep on the sofa if you don't want to trek home." Sage wasn't sure if he'd leave his sister in their flat on her own, but it was late and she'd worry about him getting home safe.
Sage always poked fun at herself, or — Declan felt aware of all the times that she poked fun at herself. He wanted to correct her, because the chicken was certainly more edible than anything he made himself, but was too conflict-averse to try to bother her.
He had to swallow more of the chicken and vegetables before answering her. "I know," he said, because he did feel confident that he was welcome at the Whitby household at any time. "But I'll head home tonight." He always went back. It was important to check in on Kenna — and he wasn't actually part of the Whitby family.
"Fair enough," Sage chuckled over her wine glass, eying him with a glint in her eye. "That sofa isn't very comfortable and since I don't have my own room, I can't offer my bed to share." Ahh sisters. Sage had slept on the sofa before, sometimes by accident, sometimes because she was too tired to drag her ass up to her bed, but whenever she did, it never ended well for her. A crick in her neck or a sore back.
She was just teasing him about the bed thing to get a rise out of him, waiting to see if she could make him blush or not. Sage didn't often get to employ any flirting and sometimes she just liked to see how far Declan would let her go before she had to reign it in again and leave him be. Poor guy, always stuck with one Whitby or another giving him a hard time.
Sage grinned as her comment was rewarded by that adorable flush that seemed to color him from the buttons of his shirt to his brows. She passed him a knowing look. "Too easy." Merlin it was just so adorable though. If a man of Declan's attractiveness could be called adorable. Sage had a healthy appreciation for the male form, and if she were to admit to having a type, tall brunettes with blue eyes were it. Unfortunately for Declan, he not only fell into that category, he was also someone she felt wholly comfortable with.
After taking a sip of her almost-empty wine glass, Sage tilted her head to the side, looking at him a little more intently. Surely he wasn't blushing because she made him that uncomfortable? Or was he innocent in sharing a bed with a woman? "Come now," she finally continued. wondering if the wine had conjured a similar rosy hue on her own cheeks. "A handsome gent like you, surely you've shared a bed before?" Maybe she was being a little too forward now, but the wine was making her tongue loose and he probably wouldn't hold it against her.
It wasn't possible for his blush to get any deeper, but it would have if it could. "Sage," Declan said, aghast — the Whitby girls weren't proper, but he was still hoping to weasel his way out of the question without answering. (Merlin help him — all of the girls were stubborn, but Sage was not nearly as bad as Tess was.)
He was going to turn as red as a tomato and pass out on her if she kept this up. "Alright, alright." She held up her free hand in surrender, smile softening to something more genuine than the smirk of a moment ago.
Still, "Really, though?" There was no way... It was none of her business obviously, but now she was insanely curious.
He wasn't going to get out of this without answering her, was he? Declan, trying to steel his nerves, drained his wine glass. He held the empty glass out to her, because if Sage was about to make fun of him, then the least she could do was give him more wine. "Haven't shared a bed," he admitted, voice gruff with embarrassment.
If she was being honest, she was a little surprised, but not completely shocked. She supposed she wasn't supposed to have as much experience as she did, but other than her whirlwind affair with Locke for those few months, she had only dabbled in a couple of one-off nights before that.
She chuckled as he held out his glass to her. She reached for the bottle with her free hand, having set her own glass down, but with her other, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him closer. "I feel like that's a shame, Deck." She murmured, making eye contact as she filled his glass. Sage didn't have much of a goal here, other than to tease him, but she was enjoying herself. Perhaps a little too much.
Sage was flirting with him! Declan had an impulse to protest that this wasn't fair of her, because she ought to know how easily-embarrassed he was. But he knew that the heat in his cheeks and the prickle of sweat on the back of his neck was probably what she wanted, and he looked down at her hand on his wrist to try to break the eye contact between them.
"Sage," he protested, his tone more shrill than usual. "I didn't say I was a saint." It wasn't as if he was entirely celibate, he just — hadn't done the thing she was asking him about.
It occurred to him that in protesting, he had possibly dug his own grave.
Maybe she'd had too much of this wine, but that blush on his cheeks was far too adorable to let go of it now. She let him go and leaned back only a little, shifting her position so that all of her focus was on him. She let her legs fall from where she had them crossed beneath her earlier, skirts stuck, exposing her stockinged calves as she swung them idly.
Sage caught her lip between her teeth, trying to hide the smirk as her eyebrows raised at his retort. Not a saint. She was well aware of what that chest looked like under that shirt, having had to stitch him up or check bruises and broken ribs and she was sure any girl would love to get their hands on him. "My comment stands; it's a lot of fun." That may also be giving too much away, but this was Declan, she hardly though he was going to hold it against her. And well, if he did, she thought he might not know her as well as she thought he did to begin with. Sage knew how to keep those worlds separate. There was nothing to keep apart now. She had learned her lesson the last time, but if there was, she would be smarter about it.
Finally Sage let go of his wrist, and Declan leaned back with his fine, relieved for the space. It hardly counted as space, though, because she was looking at him and smirking and kicking her legs. Declan looked down at his wine, because he very much did not want her to catch him looking at her calves.
It's a lot of fun. Of course it was a lot of fun, lots of people said it was a lot of fun, and the things that Declan had done were certainly fun. He huffed out a breath at his wine glass, sending ripples through the red wine. "You're the worst," Declan said, because he wasn't sure what he could say that would get her to stop teasing him.
![[Image: Sage-Sig94.png]](https://i.ibb.co/gtRGfGX/Sage-Sig94.png)
