Regulation and Control

Who: Draco Malfoy and OPEN
Where: London's National Gallery (map)
When: Sunday 25 May, around 4
What: Wandering around the gallery for some civilised alone-time.
Rating: TBR
Status: OPEN; incomplete

The man rolled up the little visitor's map in his right palm, one of which he had many a copy of at home already, stuffed between the old newspapers he kept tucked away underneath his glass coffee table. He had no idea why he repeatedly picked up a new one every time he visited the Gallery - it was a habit, but it wasn't a particularly comforting habit. It just was - he felt a bit ridiculous wandering around empty-handed, like he had something to hide.

Draco cleared his throat and walked up one of the many stone staircases that lead into different gallery rooms. While the sound of people constantly shuffling around and coughing randomly got on his most sensitive nerves, it was better than listening to his co-workers during the week. It was peaceful, and if he stopped at the edge of the stone steps and tried to picture the place empty, he could almost imagine that he was back home at the Manor. Or in Italy, at some fabulous dinner party hosted by one of his mother's friends. Draco did just that - he propped an arm up on the wrought-iron balcony and glanced up at the ceiling, tracing the intricate patterns with his eyes. It was amazing how much the building was, itself, a piece of art. A lot of people tended to forget that.

Who: Dexter Cadwallader, Seren Fawcett, Euphemia Borage and OPEN to any Regulator who might be working on a Sunday (yep, it's a free-for-all crack fest)
Where: in front of the door to the breakroom at Scamander Park
When: Sunday night
What: Heartfelt revelations SUCK when they're directed at the wrong person.
Rating: Who knows?
Status: Open; in progress

Euphemia took a deep breath as she touched the door, trying to think of everything she could say to express how she was feeling, the things that had come to mind when she'd had the dream. It felt like standing in front of the entrance to a cave and not knowing whether there would be a way out or if she would be blocked in, crushed by the things over which she had no control.

"I need to talk to you," she said to the door, hearing the shifting of someone inside. Him. It had to be him. "I... I can't do this, I can't bloody go through with getting married - I can't. And I need to explain that to someone but you - I really shouldn't be even talking to you about this. It- it's not right."