Regulation and Control

Who: Rabbit Tuor, Katie Jones, Vi Marlowe and OPEN
What: On the way to a Swivenhodge match in Leominister, the broom breaks down.
When: July 5, afternoon
Where: On the road to wizarding Leominister
Rating: PG for language, at least
Status: Open; in progress


"Goddamn bloody buggering sodding broom!" Katie kicked the handle as she stood on the grass, practically crying from frustration as she stood there, her fists clenched. The Cleansweep had gasped its last, it seemed, as it rested on the grass, completely inert, the straws not even twitching in response to the impact.

Her head craned. There was nothing in this part of England - nothing but cows and roads and no cars to be seen anywhere upon them. It's like breaking down in the Middle Ages, the woman thought to herself, blowing a strand of black hair from her face with an irritated sigh. She clenched her fists, then picked up the broom, slinging it over her shoulder.

"I'll bloody walk if I have to!" She shouted at the sky. As if it made a difference.

It began to rain, dark, heavy drops plinking against her head and Katie opened her palm, holding it flat to watch them fall. Hail. Wincing, she propped the broom over her head and began to walk underneath with a long sigh.

( Tightly warded Owl to Rabbit Tuor )

Who: Seren Fawcett & Marius MacFadden
What: Seren's annoyed and frustrated and wants legitimate answers
Where: MacFadden's house, Scotland
When: Just after noon, 5th July
Rating: PG
Status: Closed; Complete

( MacFadden was beginning to resemble a human being. That was disconcerting. )

Who: Graham and Tristram Pritchard [NPC]
What: Graham finds out that a brother's teasing is based in fact.
When: November, 1991
Where: the Pritchard family farm on the Isle of Wight
Rating: G
Status: Closed; complete

He buried his head in the haystack, weeping hard as his scrawny body burrowed in deeper, ignoring the snapping of the straw against his body, the dry grass that winnowed underneath his jumper. It smelled like cow here - musty and old, thick animal scents of hair and old milk comforting to his nose. The crack of light that hit his arm when the door opened just caused him to dig in deeper, until all that could be seen of the small boy was a shock of red hair just brighter than the hay.

( Why didn't you tell me? )

Who: Severus Snape
What: A story that may not have happened.
When: Snape's adulthood
Where: London
Rating: PG-13
Note: This writing initially began as a drabble project to satisfy Ruth's challenge, but clearly it has evolved into something else.

There were three people who sat down to lunch with him that day in a tea house by King's Cross station, and the fact was that though none of them had conversed together before, one man among them knew the others implicitly. Together, they were two men and two women at varying stages of life, though none of them looked very interested in the conversation that was about to take place.

( I don't know you. )

Who: Vi Marlowe and Ben Dunstan
What: Making a mockery of American accents, Vi getting freaked out, offending people, and a gang of pimp dogs humping pigs. Or, you know, hunting Nogtails.
Where: Scamander Park, then a few farms in York, then back.
When: Saturday, 5th July
Rating: R
Status: Closed; complete

( Have y'all discovered the Lord Jesus as your Redeemer? )

Who: William Burke and Lavender Brown, with a cameo by Graham Pritchard
What: Lavender goes to visit Deputy Capt. Hook
Where: St. Mungos
When: Saturday 5th July, afternoon
Rating: R for language and mentions of cannibalism.
Status: Closed; complete

Sometimes Lavender was slightly annoyed at the fact that she didn't have a proper nine to five job like nearly everybody else seemed to. There wasn't something to keep her occupied during the day, every day. There wasn't anything that needed seeing to instantly, paperwork to be filled in. Sure, she got work but it wasn't steady work and sometimes it didn't really pay all that well. The weekend was slow and that was unusual. It had her slightly antsy, yearning to actually go out and do something but there wasn't much she could do after cleaning the house and the grounds.

After having sat about for what felt like a good half of the day, she eventually just got up and walked out of the house. She didn't have any real place to go in mind; she just walked. And Apparated. Dartmoor had some interesting towns, and shops, but she'd been to them all before. She hated being cooped up for too long in the house and already trawled quite a few of the towns, been in every shop--there was only so many times she could look at a bunch of shoes without wanting to scream, grab one of the stilettos and drive it through the bitchy sales assistant's eyes. It was a fantasy she'd never indulge, no matter how many pointed remarks the woman made at her. So, she avoided the shop, ducking into a newsagents across the road instead. She had no intention to buy anything, but she still did, hovering near the card rack and grinning slightly to herself as she picked one out and paid for it, as well as a bunch of other things from the shelves.

It was only when she exited the shop that Lavender realised what she had done. Staring down at the bag, she shrugged. "Oh, well. Fate is telling me something." It was said with a wry smile and she ducked behind the shop, then, Apparating to London with a sharp crack!

Entering Mungo's, Lavender spent a while trying to first locate somebody to tell her where the bloody room was and then another what seemed like half an hour trying to find it. When she finally got to the right floor, she turned the knob and stepped through saying, mostly to herself, "Please, God, tell me this is the right room. I've already walked into a million wrong ones."

( Highly Warded Owl to the Sphinx )

Who: Morag MacDougal, Alasdair and Iona MacDougal (NPCs)
What: Morag's mother does not approve of her husband's choice of lullabies.
When: December 1980
Where: The MacDougal estate in Dumfries, Scotland
Rating: G
Status: Closed; complete

( That is not appropriate material for a lullaby! )