valesco ; a harry potter rpg

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OOC: Cards/Gifts from your characters to their loved ones can be posted here!! Have fun!

This had been a very weird night.

Charlie had noticed the helicopter first, and had immediately slipped back to sit in the middle hoop to watch it land in awe. This was the weirdest, weirdest thing he had ever seen! Quidditch was--it was such a magical institution that any thought of the muggle world was stripped from his mind, so to see...it was almost like a dragon had decided to make Caerphilly Stadium its new nest. The Kestrels had watched in shock as the two pilots jumped out and onto the pitch, looking frantic and confused. Hell, wouldn't you be if you were flying over an usually empty moor, and saw a stadium full of hundreds of people?

Axe had instantly commanded them down to the ground once the authorities made it onto the pitch (and the bloody choppers stopped spinning), and the Kestrels ducked down the tunnel that led to the opposing team's locker room. Charlie checked over his shoulder to try and get a glimpse of what was going on, and frowned at the sight of Griffiths seemingly having a panic attack. He made to head back, but Odette had surprisingly swooped in.

What a weird night.

Charlie couldn't get out any words as they moved to the lockers, and he was the first to push through the door, thinking it was going to be a long time before any of them got out of there. He turned around to walk backwards toward his locker and face the rest of his team, but was grabbed around the neck by a figure in the darkness. Charlie's hands went up, back and knees bent, and he let a strangled sound.

"What the fuck is going on?!" the muggle shouted, twisting one of Charlie's arms behind his back. Charlie winced before he shut his eyes at the feel of something cold and metal pressing against his temple, and it emitted a loud click that bounced off the walls of the locker room.

It had been a very simple question: 'Are we drifting apart?'

And Rose hadn't... it occurred to her that... even though she asked Axe idly (it had truly been out of fear), she realized she already knew the answer. They had, of course they had. Things... weren't like they were before, they weren't like they used to be. He didn't... always stay with her at night, which was understandable considering Guy's sudden and violent reappearance, and she, in turn, had begun to... she didn't feel the need, the pull, to... be close to Axe. At first, Rose had thought herself proud for providing Axe the space she thought he properly needed. She thought it a mature response, something that showed how they had grown. But it hadn't... been that, had it? It should feel differently, this should feel differently.

She felt a bit cold. It was a cold, hollow feeling that spread within her upon realizing the relationship she fought so hard to maintain had very well may begun to splinter before them without even their realization. Looking down at her hands, Rose took the steady silence between the two of them as almost deafening.

They were.... breaking-up, weren't they? That was what this silence meant? A kind of... muted defeated in the face of something that... they had tried to avoid. Her hands fell to the couch cushion beneath her, her fingers playing with the fabric as she thought of what to say. What could she say?

"I don't... know what to say," Rose admitted, desperate to keep talking to him. Perhaps--- it was just a bump, perhaps... the shift, from being apart from so long, a... reflex? But even Rose knew she was lying to herself. They didn't... she didn't.... a hard frown settling on her face, as she looked up at Axe, feeling that her heart was on the cusp of breaking. But had it already? Had it already begun to? She swallowed, and pressed her hand to the side of her face in unwilling discomfort.

WHO: The Brookstanton boys
WHAT: Some rushed feels before Ron enters the deadzone!
WHERE: Philippe and Jack's place
WHEN: A few days ago!

( I am sorry I let them do this to you )

"No no, non non," Philippe hissed, waving his hand adamantly back and forth at Jack. Yes, he agreed that most likely the arm would have to go, but that should not happen yet. His jaw settled hard, and he thought back to what he knew.

He knew the night before had been a long one. Philippe couldn't say he had been expecting his best friend to show up, fanatical, with his younger brother unconscious in his arms. That had not been... what he hoped to see a year after smuggling Gui out of the country. But Philippe had training for these kind of situations, so he did not allow himself to descend into the near madness that had clearly already taken Axe. They had put the youngest Brookstanton brother down on the kitchen table, to which Philippe had thought he could quickly (or painstakingly like before), put a stopper to whatever emergencies that need to be addressed, but---

There had been too much. Too much spell damage, too much infection, too much of important body parts mangled for him to heal and keep his friend from losing his mind beside him. Thankful, heureusement mon Dieu, his urgent owl to Jack hadn't been for nothing, and with the both of them present, they had been able to fix almost all of Gui's ailments. Except one, one that was presenting a most significant problem if Little Brookstanton did not wake up soon.

"We wait as long as possible." Philippe's brows rose, and he glanced away from his flatmate to peer through the closest open door to the kitchen. He stared at Axe's back, flicking a glance even further the darker blonde hair laying beside him very still on the bed. Axe would trust him to allow whatever necessary to save Gui's life, but that did not change Philippe's hesitation to permanently change Gui's life should he go on to live beyond today with no knowledge in the matter.

"Little Brookstanton cannot wake up to one less arm."

WHO: Axebanger Brookstanton??
WHAT: YIKESTOWN
WHERE: His place!
WHEN: Now!

( Something was wrong. )

Knocking her head back against the locker behind her, Rose let out a great sigh. It was a relief, an encompassing release, that filled her, but it was not as long-lasting as she had hoped. In fact, the high that came with Axe's grip fell almost as fast as the resurgence to her foremind all the problems they had expertly ignored here tonight. They had not seen each other in a very long time, and yet--- she slowly, because now a painful feeling was beginning to settle in her heart, began to untangle herself from him.

The match tonight, of course, had been a disaster. The Catapults had lost, Carys had yelled at her four times for being a bloody idiot, and Rose couldn't even find it within herself to feel surprised. Her thoughts and focus, as they had been for a while now, were centered solely around the blond wizard pressed up against her, currently attempting to extract one of his hands from within the complex folds of her braided hair. The stark quiet of the room when it so hadn't been just moments ago was almost deafening, and to help break it, she purposely pushed her palms against the lockers for support as she wordlessly slipped off him.

There were many things that she wanted to say, wanted to say to him, and they flooded her thoughts all at once. How she had missed him, what had he been doing, where was he staying, had he missed her? Was he alright, how had he managed to look so--- together? Was this--- was this the end, was this their end? But Rose found that she couldn't find the words, couldn't force herself to evoke what she knew neither of them wanted to touch. So instead, she dropped her hand from his neck, cupping the back of it briefly before shifting to readjust her disheveled game robes. Her brow furrowed as she suddenly realized she couldn't look at him, an utter contrast to the hours before when she couldn't stop looking at him.

He had to hand it to Adian; when his friend said he was going to throw the biggest party ever, he certainly meant it. Louis was quite sure that he didn't know half of the people there, most of them one or two or perhaps six degrees of separation from him. He didn't mind it, he constantly had a drink in his hand, and nowadays it felt quite necessary. Louis could not deny that he enjoyed the attention, and his cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling too much for the camera. Maybe it was because he had not smiled too much in recent weeks, but it felt good to do so when so many times the thought that he'd never smile again had drifted through his mind.

Snatching a particularly pink and fizzy bottle off the table, Louis twisted and moved through the crowd on the tips of his toes. There was of course a very important person section of couches set up in the best corner of the flat, and only if you were deemed worthy were you allowed to pass through the shimmering wards. Those worthy of such titles included the birthday boy himself, the best friend of the birthday boy, the girlfriend of the birthday boy, and a few other handful like a sister, close friends, and a quidditch player that they owned the jersey of. It was a very elite group.

Passing through the wards sent a warm sensation through his body and he plopped down next to Penelope, presenting her with the fizzy pink drink.

"I heard it tastes like rainbows," he said with a smile, kicking his feet up. Louis put his own drink out for a cheers before putting it to his lips.


ooc: Biggest party ever!! Wear green or get donkey ears and speak in limericks all night THE GREATEST SHAME. Try to have some degree of separation to the boys, but every little connection counts lmao. Happy Early St. Patrick's Day!!!

"What happened?" Liddie asked curiously, perhaps with a bit of a smirk as she settled herself suddenly on Charlie's lap. He had been half way through drying his damp hair, dress robes haphazardly tossed back on, but that was no matter to her. No, instead she tilted her head, rested her arms on his shoulders, and wondered idly how long they would have until someone came looking for the either them. Thirty minutes, at least? That was certainly enough for a proper story time.

Forty minutes, perhaps. This was a large castle, and the door to their private room was unmarked.

When Charlie made a strained face, Liddie laughed. For even now, after the wedding was over and the reception about to begin, he seemed guiltier than ever over his late arrival this afternoon. Charlie had been... well, she should say, Charlie and Michal had been---

Charlie had been just a little bit late to the ceremony, arriving about half past four. But that had been no surprise, because even before that, Ewan promptly announced that both Charlie and a certain final Lynch brother were no where to be found. After a bit of silent breathing and proper thinking, Liddie realized she knew exactly what was going on and had no problem waiting patiently for what was undoubtably going to be a very good story for the future.

When Charlie swept into her dressing room disheveled, a manic look in his eye, and tasting like rotten fish, Liddie felt quite pleased (and relieved, if she must admit) with herself. She would only be content with torturing him about this a little bit for the rest of their lives. Picking at the ends of his mouth to turn them upwards into a smile, she smiled too.

"You smell much better now than you did before," she teased, nodding seriously. Distracted only for a moment, she looked down at the fine intricate work of her white dress; it looked so beautiful against the dark tone of his robes.