Regulation and Control

( Owl to Raphael Crane )

( Warded owl to Graham Pritchard )

Who: Nymphadora Tonks, Lila Tonks, and Bill Weasley
What: A visit
When: Afternoon
Where: St. Mungo's
Rating: Lowish, since there's a kid present

( Never knew the best was yet to come )

((enclosed is the dagger Vokte with his scabbard-thingy))

Who: FREE FOR ALL! (But especially Vi and Katie)
What: Abraxan Races (Malt whiskey drinking horses - does it get any better?)
When: Sunday noon, July 20
Where: Mistley Downs, a wizarding aerial race course in Manningtree, the smallest market town in England
Rating: TBD, minimum PG for language
Status: Open; in progress
Notes: This is a fun open RP. Mon's developing plot around this idea but it won't happen here. People are welcome to subthread or start separate ones. We're going to blithely ignore the conventions of time for those participating - chalk it up to a misplaced Time Turner or something and double-thread as much as needed.


Wizards had conspired for centuries to keep Manningtree small. And to keep muggle animal authorities out of the place - while it was easy enough to place disillusionment charms on the wings, too often in other villages had careless wizarding lads shoved a bottle of malt whiskey into an Abraxan's mouth right in front of the authorities.

As a result, the air itself seemed charged with magic as the crowds began to filter through the Downs, explained away to the muggles nearby as part of a music festival. With pitchforks and brooms, the farmers eyed the passing wizards but allowed them to pass, shying away from the grassy dale where sounds of unearthly music began to echo. Nothing, after all, spoke "leave me alone" quite like the dismal sounds of Mad Martin and the Muggles. Many wizards, also, clapped their hands over their ears during opening ceremonies.

The stands were packed with roaring wizards, each with galleons and betting forms in their hands, many of them with pencils clumsily strewn across the broad brims of hats or tucked behind an ear. Smells assaulted the senses - boiled peanuts, butterbeer, the occasional whiff of popcorn and rock cakes mingled together to create a bizarre aura of carnival. And above all, the horses, hovering overhead as they awaited their orders, grooms angrily swatting pixies away from their mounts' tails.

Who: Everrett Mac and Graham Pritchard
What: Discussion of test subject WH-L-11
When: Sunday, July 20
Where: the breakroom in Mysteries
Rating: TBD, minimum PG for language
Status: Open; in progress

The coffee was bad, but it would always be bad, Graham reflected as he stared down in it. It was the kind of cheap liquid that resembled an oil spill more than a proper cup of java - he could see a sheen of blue capping the top and he hesitated for a moment before slugging it down. But only for a moment.

He'd been in the office all weekend, dealing with Space, dealing with the new capture, and still hadn't managed to go in and speak with the subject directly. No, for that he'd need a glamour - the Space Commissioner certainly did not go into a warded cell with his identity clearly displayed. There had been escapes in his predecessor's time. Investigations. Pritchard wanted none of that.

( Tightly warded Owl to William Burke )

( Owl package to Jaden Dorny )

Who: Morag MacDougal and Fred Holden
What: Morag finds out Mysteries has Fred, and makes a bargain.
Where: Containment, Space Division, DoM
When: Sunday, 20 July, around lunch
Rating: PG-13 for some language and discussion of torture
Status: Closed; complete

( I work with potions, I observe things...but not like this... )

Who: Rabbit Tuor and Jaden Dorny. Cameo by Buttercup Tuor.
What: Maps.
Where: Rabbit’s flat, Liverpool.
When: Sunday, 20 July
Rating: TBA
Status: Closed; incomplete

“Oh bloody fucking hell, Bit! Gag me, why don’t you.”

Rabbit laughed, smirking against Jaden’s mouth, purposely not pulling away after Buttercup’s outcry. As if he hadn’t picked her up two nights ago, drunk and half-naked, after storming into a bar and punching some asshole pervert hard enough to leave him with a bruised hand.

Stepping back, only for Jaden’s benefit, he turned to his sister and said, quite pointedly and sounding more like her dad than was healthy, “You’re going to be late for work. Did you grab the lunch I made for you?”

“Aye,” she muttered, holding up a brown paper bag pointedly before coming over to the pair and clearing her throat loudly.

“Buttercup, this is Jaden , the guy I was telling you about. Jaden, my baby sister, Buttercup.”

“Y’know I didn’t mean it about needing a gag, right?” She offered as an introduction, holding out her hand before turning to her brother and adding, without a hint of shame, “Fuck, he’s cute.”

“Watch the language.”

Who: Nathan Branwalder, Finn MicGill (open to anyone else who may be around, showing up, whatever)
What: Big brother comes to help
Where: Stapleford Abbotts, home of the Holden kids + Finn + Kitties
When: Early evening (5-ish), Sunday, 20th July
Rating: PG-13
Status: Open;Incomplete

A deep red '69 Fastback pulled up the driveway through the trees which largely shielded the property from the road a half mile back. It'd been close to a year since Nate had made the trek down here, usually keeping up north himself and seeing hid younger siblings at their parents' house. The night before, though, Ford had called him and told him Fred was missing. Nate must have growled into the phone for a good five minutes before realising he'd snapped it in his hand. Once a new phone was found he'd controlled himself and gotten information. It had been right before sunset, something he assumed was done on purpose so he could work out most of his fury, which was generally how his worry liked to masquerade. Once he'd woken up Nate had hopped into his car and headed down to Essex, breaking more than a few speed limits on the way.

Out from the car came a towering man. Six-foot-two and very possibly made of muscle. Somehow the red trilby and the loud, red printed shirt looked at home on Nate's frame. He looked more criminal or thug than anything else. Listening carefully, he was sure there was no one outside so he went to the door and rang the bell, wondering if any of them were even home at the moment. Ford knew he was going to be here, though possibly was expecting him closer to sunset. Eventually someone would show up, though.