OKAY, coming at all our cutie members with a question !! i work tomorrow evening and mels works ALL day monday, so we’d like to know when you guys would prefer we open for plotting. there’s about twelve of us currently and we aren’t planning on officially opening for interactions until tuesday – buuuuut !! we’d like to know if you’d prefer that we post the accounts now and you’ll have until tuesday to do intros & plot, or would you rather us wait until tomorrow night when we potentially have more members ??
The shots in his stomach were competing against each other, tearing at his stomach lining instead of granting him the pleasant release he’d been looking for, and there was a nagging, ringing in his ears that he’d blame on Melinda–and was only half her fault. He was the one making himself miserable and irascible, putting on expectations he knew would be disappointed and staying where he didn’t fit, time after time. This party was only a small example of a bigger problem.
By the time he and Melinda made it back to Zonko’s, just to the shop before Olivier was stalling in the darkened building, the steps up to the flat above seeming like too much work suddenly, the Frenchman was deep in an angry self-loathing, self-pity, and miserable all the more knowing his need for release for the negative feelings would not be met. Hitting something or even firing curses was a method that made him recoil. Similar violent solutions that were just takeoffs of the same were equally distasteful though a resentful part of him said Melinda wouldn’t care if he started smashing things in the store, since she just wanted to abandon it. He was still too much grounded and thinking behind the fog in his head to yell and scream unless provoked. Trying to mentally pin blame on others only made him feel darker. He was not a crier except in certain rare circumstances. He just wallowed, doing the best he could to just let the bad go by bits and not to hate himself for this too that he usually did so as part of a return to complacency and not a resolve to take action to change circumstances and himself for the better.
His mind wandered and he led his steps away from the stairs completely, not just stalling the climb but detouring as he searched the shelves. “You didn’t get rid of that line of glitter ink Scarlet insisted you carry, did you?”
“So, have you been by yourself since the turn, too?” You asked, sitting in front of the dim fire, facing Yoongi as he cleaned his knife with an even dirtier rag. Without meeting your gaze, he replied, “No. I have a group… We just got separated.” By the tense quality of his voice, you assumed the worst.
Melanie had been undergoing Auror training for a week now, and it was perhaps even more strenuous than what she’d expected. Their instructors and senior Aurors certainly didn’t sugarcoat the sort of work they were expected to master by the time they were officially certified. There was no easing them into anything. And thus, they were having duels and driils and lectures from the very first day.
At the beginning of this week, her and the other small group of interns gathered at the department and were told that they’d be doing mock missions just to gauge what sort of point they were at, and what sort of skills they’d need to work on later in the week. Consequently, they weren’t given any guidance; their only instruction was clear, and it was to follow orders no matter the circumstances. They were then taken to a vacant area on the outskirts of London, void of any Muggles and protected with various enchantments that encircled the space like a bubble so that they wouldn’t be detected. They were grouped off fairly quickly, and her group was told that they were only meant to scope out an area. They didn’t need to recover anything, or protect anything. They were observers and nothing else.
As a result, Melanie found herself crouched behind an abandoned crate in a dark alleyway with her partner somewhere on the opposite end. Her knees began to ache within minutes, though she didn’t dare to move, instead peering out carefully on the dark street in front of them.
The silence that had settled was nearly deafening. She could hear the distant sounds of others in her group who were dueling, perhaps, or whatever it was they’d been told to do; she couldn’t help but feel a bit antsy at the fact she’d been given what seemed to be the least significant job. All the same, she remained silent and still as she was told.
When she heard the shout of a small child, it didn’t occur to her that there was no one else in this area but the other Aurors; she didn’t think about how implausible it would be for an actual child to be there, much less about the fact that nothing was even happening. By then, however, she’d so fully immersed herself into the drill that it all felt real. With adrenaline pumping in her ears, she swore she stopped breathing when she heard it again, this time closer and just at the end of the alley.
Without thinking twice, she’d torn out from behind the crate with her wand in her hand and was running to the end of the alley despite the yells from her partner that nipped at her heels. Within seconds, she was in the street; in less than seconds, she felt something hit her square in the back and her body crumple to the ground.
When she woke up ten minutes later, her orientation leader was standing over her with gruff disappointment in his eyes. “One rule, McKinnon,” he said sharply. “Follow. Orders. That was a bloody ruse. They know the lengths we’d go to to save an innocent, and they pull rubbish like that all the time. You fall into that? Boom. You’re dead. Everyone else’s lives are in danger. And you’re absolutely no use to anyone.” She moved to sit up, at a loss for words as her face burned with shame. The other interns were gathered off to the side, though some were looking over at her. “I expected a hell of a lot better than Owen’s daughter.” Anger and disappointment rolled off of him in waves, and she still couldn’t bring herself to speak even as she tentatively wobbled to her feet. “Go home. You’re finished now.”
She nodded silently, swallowing the lump in her throat. She could still feel the eyes of everyone else on her back as she turned and quickly disapparated with a pop. Given that she hadn’t really been thinking of a specific destination, it took her a moment once her feet landed on firm ground to realize she was at Hogsmeade. Maybe a walk could clear her head.
The opposite became very clear. Panic only settled in more thoroughly the longer she walked down the sidewalk, blind to anyone else walking alongside her. Shame felt like it was branded on her forehead, hot and heavy and Merlin, how had she fucked up like that. She knew better, she did. Her chest suddenly began to tighten and her vision blurred and she immediately ducked into an alley that was hopefully vacant, pressing her palms against the brick wall and gulping at air with tears burning in her eyes.
As softspoken as he was, nobody in Ashworth could deny that Andy Kim had a severe temper. Unless you wanted to be a mutilated mess – with the exception during those lucky times where Daphne or April were by his side to keep him in check – then it would be best not to provoke him.
Andy rammed the man against the brick wall, then threw him to the concrete. “If you have to pick on someone, pick on me,” he said softly, “Daphne’s heart is too gentle. I’m giving you a chance to go because I promised her that I’d be careful of my temper.”
“Fucking demon,” spat the man, “I hope the whole town sees what I wrote on your fucking library. I hope something happens to that whore you sleep wi–!”
Andy’s eyes flashed golden and he’d pounced on the man in an instant, claws raking the other man’s chest. “I’ve changed my mind,” he growled, “I’m feeling hungry.” With that, he opened his jaws wide and attempted to sink his teeth into the man’s throat.
Nights like this makes Rebekah wish she wasn’t a vampire. You’d think that after 1,200 years, and being the first vampire of existance, she’d be a pro at covering her tracks. She told herself she was only going out for a snack, but that one snack ended up turning out into a complete blood bath. The bar fell silent, as most of those who managed to get away probably are stil screaming their heads off. Getting Rebekah pissed probably wasn’t the best decision for the dead guy beneath, but if she had to be honest, he was a total pig. Clicking her 6-inch heels together, she began wiping her bloody hands with the nearest cloth she could find, “Jackass” She muttered to herself, walking over the dead, headless bodies. It was only 4 bikers, she’s killed more than that in an hour before. She probably shouldn’t be justifying her actions, but he was asking for it. They were all harassing most of the woman that passed by them, so Rebekah thought it be best to probably rip them apart. She probably should head home, licking her bloody fingers, suddenly she heard foot steps enter the establishment. She instantly reacted, her eyes turned red and her fangs popping out, “Bar is closed, idiot, if you value your own throat, I’d suggest you walk out quietly and ignore the blood, yeah? Things got a little messy, unless you wanna clean up for me?”
⇝✯「 O ƭ о γ α 」─ ❛ Otoya exited his workplace as he let out a satisfied sigh. His workplace consist of broadcasting in a radio station, and he was glad that he was able to get a job that is somehow related to music.
So after he had exited he went towards the nearest fast food restaurant, ordering a cup of strawberry milkshake and walked out, crashing into somebody else instead.