vance

When congratulations for an elopement dominates society's conversation over the abduction and abuse of others that don't start with titles of Lord or Lady.

Yes, congratulation. Happy moments.

( Owl to Sirius )

A Whole World in a Nose-Biting Teacup

I listened to our Great King's speech on a magically enhanced Muggle radio who signals comes from a station filled with employees in very much the same manner, doing very much the same jobs, as its Muggle counterpart. I laughed at the irony of His soon-to-be decree of a final segregation between Muggle and Wizard though even hardliners like Americans still live quietly integrated. I laughed as I thought about how the Knight Bus is a magically enhanced double-decker Muggle bus taking His subjects to work. I laughed thinking that the very mode of transportation that takes all of His subjects' children to Hogwarts is that of a steam-powered Muggle locomotive. I laughed because half of British Wizard Music is influenced by the Muggle Music Industry.

I laughed because this nation has always grown up parallel to that of Muggles. We use their things that have been forgotten. The very hospital He spoke of entrance's is a rundown Muggle department store. The Ministry, under another Muggle building. The guest entrance to said Wizard Government, that of a Muggle box. I laughed because I worry that He will have to decree a lot more unearthing than making refugees of His own subjects forced to untangle some very old, deep roots in ancient locations like London because a Muggle city happened to cropped up around them. To be made to shuffle their lives into prefab, quick-build modular homes. Homes that will be magically stacked upon the other to become a tantalizing petri dish for magical diseases to grow, flourish and mutate within a whole world forced to live in a nose-biting teacup.

Regressing is never a wise option for protection or progress.

It's important to do the little things one can within their little worlds to show love in dire times. Love is a bottomless resource; as such, it should be freely given. It has no clearly defined lines and real love holds no expectations. If you have love in your heart, this isn't the time to keep it caged. Love heals. Love protects. Love breaks the strongest curses. It also strengthens. Go out into the world and remember our better pieces are what should define us as a society and that we can't be easily manipulated with fear.

I'll be at Leaky performing the next few nights to raise funds for families who have lost loved ones who can't afford funeral arrangements. Even if you can't give, come. You can't let fear rule.

[Warded to Sirius]

I just want to know you're safe.

[Added later]

[Warded to Remus]

I don't want you at Leaky. Come play a board game with us.

A Christmas Tale

It's morning but the sun has barely found the motivation to break through my mum's old floral curtains. It is on this barely-there morning that I lay in a nest of hair, half finished works, and the best of intentions when a shriek jerks me awake. All hair, paper stuck to my face, and wand at the ready. Are there barbarians at the gate?

The smallest of kinds comes barreling into my room and conquers my bed. Up and down my world shakes by the bed giant. 'SANTA'S COME. SANTA'S COME. COME SEE.' Off my Alexander leaves to conquer other worlds. Blurry and dazed, newly founded Alexandra tries to muster up a national pride but it's more like a funeral march. Mourning for the loss of sleep or time for coffee.

As I break from the hallway, I see it. A veritable mountain of gifts that I had nothing to do it. I choked on my shock and disbelief even as my daughter shows me that it's all real by diving into the center. An avalanche of gifts threatens to take us both.

I am told by a squeaky voice that we are not to leave England because 'Santa brings more gifts here!'

There are more gifts than I have room for. The culprit knows who they are.

[Violently Hexed Against Unwanted Readers]

[Private to Peter, James & Sirius]

I had to read it in the bloody fucking paper. All but a footnote. At the back. Someone needs to concisely explain. Two of you I can easily track down and hex. I'll take two out of three.

A Story About Monsters:
I was arrested on the 8th along with the three other minorities who tried to immigrate out of a bad situation. For having been subjected to institutionalized distrust and then caged, they each still shared their stories with me. Stories on how they'd turned their eyes to the East for hope and new beginnings. To risk everything. Loose everything. To try for something more than what they had.

The UK was their Land of Opportunity.

A land then defined in four by four.

They hadn't heard about the werewolf murders which had made the girl with long, thin braids next to me tighten with fear. Four by four and a then super moon fast approaching, she had made the biggest gamble of all. Her's is a tragedy I can't even express right. She had been born Muggle but nothing about her life had ever been right.( [OOC: TRIGGER WARNINGS- CHILD ABUSE] )

I had looked past my cellmates, asking for more stories and saw I was the minority. 'What are you in for?' Too many were infractions that witch and wizards see no jail time for before making court. Justice isn't blind and the burden of proof falls on the accused.

( owl to Prince Sirius Black )

( Owl to Prince Sirius Black )

( The entry is enchanted to have audio start playing when noticed )

( mix tape for Lee Jordan )

( Magically pasted about on walls and poles in Diagon Alley )

( Owl for Lee Jordan )

( Pasted about in sellect parts of Muggle London )

( i'm going outside to watch the house burn down across the street )

Owls. Muggle Mail. Muggle E-Mail. Muggle Text Messages. Muggle IMs.

( storylines )

( each interaction is an opportunity )