With the capture of Verandi Farley and several high-ranking Trossach members, the British wizarding world has finally caught a break. The rate of rogue werewolf attacks have started dropping at a steady rate and, hopefully, things will stay that way. The Ministry is starting to loosen some restrictions, like not arresting werewolves standing on the street for loitering, however there’s still an obvious power imbalance between wizardfolk and werewolves.
The Cotswolds pack are continuing to advocate for the rights of werewolves and petitioning to change the legislation that has been set in motion by the current Minister for Magic, whilst the remaining Trossachs members are trying to stay out of the spotlight and keep a low profile… for now.
Whilst the British wizarding world seems to have calmed down, the same cannot be said for over in Northern Europe where a rebellion of magical creatures has risen. The state of things has gotten so bad that the European Ministry has enacted protocols to protect those under eighteen whilst their adult witches and wizards fight to keep control of their countries.
Students from Durmstrang have been sent to Hogwarts to keep them safe and those not old enough to attend school have been sent to live with relatives or designated British Ministry officials outside of Europe for the time being.
Will the low rates of werewolf attacks in Britain continue? How long will Durmstrang students stay at Hogwarts? Will the creatures usurp the wizardfolk in Northern Europe? Only time will tell.
SEPTEMBER 2019 It's been a very long, eventful summer in the wizarding world. A baby was stolen, several high ranking Trossach members were imprisoned, and werewolf attacks have drastically dropped as a result. What will happen now school has returned?
MAY 2019 An attempt to capture the beta of the Trossachs has been launched. Were the Aurors successful in their mission? Go read more here!
a charming young woman... ...capable of being terrible
GRYFFINDOR
16
SIXTH YEAR
1/2 VEELA
we're not running when the world's on fire/we'll be dancing in the smoke
73 posts
0 likes
Post by LYUBOV KAREVA on Dec 29, 2019 19:23:58 GMT
Things had just gotten way more complex than Lyuba had ever wanted them to.
It went like this:
Hugo, who had attacked the Winter Ball and gotten expelled from school for it, had somehow gotten broken out of the hospital in London and taken to live with some werewolves, who included Rowan's little sister who'd been missing since December and Rodrik's older brother who was supposed to be in France, who had found out that they were cousins, which meant Rowan and Rodrik had been cousins all this time, and why Rowan had told her all of this when he didn't normally talk to her all that often and when Rodrik was right there being his roommate, Lyuba didn't know, but here she was, repeating the whole story over and over to herself to make sure she didn't actually forget any of the details, which she was really sure she was going to do.
It made her need to take a deep breath even without speaking out loud.
She supposed she was meant to tell Rodrik, but, sitting across the common room from him, staring at him studying, she wasn't sure how she was meant to actually go about doing that. Things had been really weird with him ever since she'd explained in what she thought was a polite way that she didn't want to have a relationship right now, because she was only sixteen, which felt way too soon for commitment and all that jazz. But it had made him all sad and gloomy, which she had definitely noticed. So she was certain that if she tried to talk to him, he'd probably just mope even more. But didn't he have a right to know?
And here she thought her own family had enough drama.
She looked at the fireplace in front of her--to Rodrik at the table--to the fireplace again--back to Rodrik. If she didn't say anything, he would probably be confused, when he did find it all out, why she hadn't told him. But then again, was he going to listen long enough to let her say it? Was something like this even believable? Truth was always stranger than fiction, that Lyuba knew, but it didn't make people likely to believe it. Especially when it came through like three layers of owls like it had to her.
Well, she thought, if he doesn't listen, I can always tell Rowan to stop being a coward and tell him himself. So that was an option. With her resolve steeled, she got up off the couch, away from the pleasant warmth of the fire, to where Rodrik looked to be breaking his brain over his Ancient Runes homework yet again.
"Hey, uh, Rodrik?" she said, sitting down in the chair across from him. "Can I talk to you? I heard about something that I think you need to know. Something important."
It was yet another evening spent hunched over about ten different parchment rolls and four textbooks, referencing and cross-checking tables and transcriptions and translations, and all Rodrik could see in front if his eyes were runes - with staves, without staves, short-twig, old, new, Norse, Anglo-Saxon, the list went on and on. Even when he closed his eyes, it was all he saw and thought about. He'd started after his patrol, around curfew, and he'd been at it for several hours now. He couldn't boast with having the most precise sense of timing, but it just had to be past midnight.
His eyelids felt as if they were made of cast iron, or of lead, whichever one of them was denser -- at this hour such triviality wasn't important to Rodrik. But his work was never done and he had to hand it in the following lesson, which left him with about 36 hours to accomplish the task at hand. He was confident that he could do it, if only he was left alone with a large kettle of coffee and some food. Sadly, he had neither.
And, to his great dismay, he had company. None other than Lyubov Kareva, the reason behind his last few months of depression. Rodrik still didn't get it -- what did all the other guys have that he didn't? Why was she so afraid of commitment and acting like a grown adult? Why was all that she thought about frills and entertainment?
A long, slightly dramatic sigh broke out of his chest as the chair across from him moved. He looked up through the few locks of his own curly hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, confirming what he already knew. It was none other than the object of his agony.
"If you're not aware," he grumbled, sitting up and stretching, a dripping quill in hand, "I'm kind of busy here. I wonder, what could be so important? Did you hear about Delgado organizing an orgy? Or is it a list of people I should screw to get 'over it'?"
a charming young woman... ...capable of being terrible
GRYFFINDOR
16
SIXTH YEAR
1/2 VEELA
we're not running when the world's on fire/we'll be dancing in the smoke
73 posts
0 likes
Post by LYUBOV KAREVA on Jan 1, 2020 17:32:58 GMT
Lyuba's eyes narrowed, anger suddenly filling her far more than nervousness. She sat back, crossing her arms. Why didn't anyone ever take her seriously? Especially when it came to something that was very serious? "Didn't I say it was important?" she snapped. "I'm not Valeria, I don't care who you screw. Ask her for that. I said you needed to know it." The dismissive tone in his voice made her want to take the quill he was holding and break it over his head, and she wrapped her fingers around the edge of the table to keep them from grabbing anything that didn't need to be destroyed.
"Fine. I won't tell you that Hugo Hahn--you remember him? Attacked the ball? Yeah, he's found your brother in a forest somewhere in Scotland. Being a werewolf. But I guess you wouldn't think that's important, since all you can think about is orgies. Or at least that's what you think I think about. I don't care. You can go ask Rowan Howard about it, because apparently you've been cousins all along. And he knows everything, he told me." As far as she knew, Lyuba didn't have any cousins, or if her uncle had ever had any kids she'd never met them, but it seemed to her that she would want to know if she'd been rooming with one for years.
"So you can decide if that's important enough for you. I think it's important, but what would I know? I'm just a silly veela girl. Not like I would run to the ends of the earth if that happened to one of my sisters!" Lyuba's voice had raised to what might, for the average person, be shouting volume, but she knew she could still get louder if she needed to. Her breath was coming in angry puffs as she leaned closer to Rodrik and all his runes and the condescending way he was looking at her. "Snap out of it!" she cried, her hand meeting with his face just hard enough that she was sure he would have to listen. With that, she got up, starting to stalk away toward the girls' staircase.
Of course, Lyuba immediately began her offense. At first, Rodrik didn't even bother to look up from his homework. Why would he? 'I don't care who you screw' -- then what the hell do we have to talk about? Don't bring Zoe into this. But as the wall of words rained down upon him, his eyes went wide and slowly he sat back up, placing his quill down and staring right at her, trying to process what she was saying.
Hahn? My brother? Werewolves? What the hell? Has she hit her head against something? Rowan? Cousin? WAIT, WHAT? Why would Rowan tell her something like this? Why would Rowan tell her anything? The what's and the why's and the how's just kept pilling on and on and on, until it all came to a screeching halt as he watched Lyuba get up, and, as if in slow motion, slap him.
As the pain filled his face, his mind went completely blank. There was white noise in his ears and later he could have sworn that at that moment, when Lyuba's hand had reached him, the embers of the waning fire had come alive for just a few seconds.
And then...
Then there were tears, there was getting up from the chair and tripping, there was grabbing onto Lyuba's hand as she was leaving, there was a kneeling Rodrik with a reddened face and tears streaming down his face, and there was ragged breathing and guilt because he'd fucked up, he'd been so far up his own ass, thinking that Lyuba owed him something, there was such guilt--- His tears had nothing to do with the physical pain he was feeling.
"Wait, Lyuba, wait," he sputtered out in between gasps for air, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, okay? I fucked up, just, I'm sorry,". It must have been an entire minute of him muttering it over and over, letting her hand go as he fell to his fours, trying to steady his breath. He hadn't had one of these breakdowns in a long while.
When he finally looked up, Lyuba was still there. Slowly, he got up from the floor and wiped his face in his sleeve, trying to gather himself. His voice was squeaky and trembling, "Wait. Please. Tell me again, from the start. Which brother? Vaughn? Damian?"
a charming young woman... ...capable of being terrible
GRYFFINDOR
16
SIXTH YEAR
1/2 VEELA
we're not running when the world's on fire/we'll be dancing in the smoke
73 posts
0 likes
Post by LYUBOV KAREVA on Jan 2, 2020 3:11:11 GMT
There were only a handful of times over the years that Lyuba had ever seen Rodrik cry. She had the distinct feeling that he had never wanted her to see it, but the emotions had overflowed--and wasn't that a familiar feeling, she thought bitterly, thinking of all the times in her life that her own emotions had gotten the better of her. She never wanted it to be that way, but sometimes things felt so important to say that she couldn't keep her mouth shut, no matter if she was supposed to. Was that ever going to go away?
Despite the frustration boiling in her, she stopped in her tracks when he felt his hands on hers, the mood in the room immediately altered. "Rodrik--Rodrik, it's okay. Apology accepted and stuff. Can you--" No, it didn't look like he was going to get up. She settled for patting his head a little awkwardly while she waited for him to show any sign of motion. When he finally picked himself up, looking even worse for wear than when he pulled one of those stupid all-nighters again, she immediately put a hand on his shoulder, steering him toward the comfier seats around the fireplace.
"You sit down. You're tired anyway. Before I start again." Lyuba's hands were firm as she pushed Rodrik down into a large armchair, making sure he was seated before she spoke again. Seeing him collapse to the ground again was not something she really wanted to deal with. Satisfied with his willingness to stay put-- "don't you think about going back to get your homework, either," she muttered, adjusting his arms--she sat down on the coffee table in front of him.
"It's Vaughn," she said, much gentler this time. She didn't think she'd ever met this particular brother of Rodrik's, but she did remember the name. "He's with Rowan's little sister, Rue--now we know where she is, too." Nobody had wanted to believe that the disappearance of the young Hufflepuff had to do with werewolves, but Lyuba had found out that it was indeed. "We don't know exactly where they are, because they won't say while Grimblehawk is still reading letters, but it's definitely in Scotland. And they're definitely werewolves." Lyuba heaved a sigh, looking into Rodrik's tearful eyes. "I'm really sorry. You needed to know, though."
Rodrik didn't even try to resist Lyuba's gentle demands, letting himself be pushed down into the old recliner by the fireplace. He didn't complain, when she told him that there would be no homework tonight -- he knew she was right. After this he wouldn't be able to tell a rune stave from a table leg. All he did was watch her -- or at least try to, as his eyes were fogged up by the tears still pooling in his eyes, and his head was spinning a little. His breathing was audibly shaky, and no sound came out of his mouth until...
"Oh, Vaughn, Vaughn, what have you gotten into?" he whined, burrying his face into his hands, his body shaking with sobs once more. Vaughn, his eldest brother, the steadfast once-prefect and head boy, the pride of the family (even though the Belanger's claimed to love all of their sons all the same)... His life had been flushed down the drain, Rodrik was sure of it.
"It can't be," he sniffled after a while, trying to take deep breaths. "It can't be, no, he can't be in Scotland. Vaughn is in France, tending to a vineyard near Paris, he's fine, he...He even sent me a picture of him dressed in a fancy coat by the beach in winter! He can't, there must be a mistake!" Denial. Denial was all the boy felt at that moment, trying his hardest to rationalize an explanation that wouldn't involve any of Lyuba's statements as the truth. But Rodrik himself didn't buy his explanation. Another whine accompanied a fit of sobbing, and his head began to hurt, making everything even worse.
"I...I don't know what to do," after what seemed like an eternity, he choked out, looking up at the girl sitting across from him, "Lyuba, I don't know what to do. How do I help him? We can't afford wolfsbane, we can't afford hiding him at home, I don't know--" he bit down on his lip to try and stop himself from bawling for God knows which time now.
a charming young woman... ...capable of being terrible
GRYFFINDOR
16
SIXTH YEAR
1/2 VEELA
we're not running when the world's on fire/we'll be dancing in the smoke
73 posts
0 likes
Post by LYUBOV KAREVA on Jan 5, 2020 16:02:05 GMT
Before she'd started telling Rodrik everything she'd heard, Lyuba hadn't quite thought about what the next step would be. Telling him seemed like a challenge enough. Plus, she thought, it wasn't like she knew what Rodrik was supposed to do about the situation, besides try to connect with Rowan. Rowan would know more than her, anyway. She'd considered herself the messenger, not anything else.
But Rodrik was her friend, yes, even after everything he'd said to her. Hanging on by a thread as a friend, maybe, but still a friend. She wasn't going to leave him to panic and worry all on his own. It was, she supposed, understandable. As she'd said, if it were one of her own sisters, she'd do anything to help. That was what sisters did, and if she had brothers, she was sure it would be the same for them, too.
So she would help, somehow. Even if she didn't know exactly how.
She moved to the arm of the chair, sitting on it and putting her arm around Rodrik's shoulders. "It's all what I heard. I think we can trust Hugo on this, 'cause he's there with them." She frowned, squeezing her friend lightly. "Maybe it was a beach in Scotland, that he sent the picture from. He probably didn't want you to worry." Nobody liked admitting that they had let something bad happen to them. It was a much smaller thing, in the grand scheme of things, Lyuba thought now, but she had felt similar emotions when she'd received her exam scores from last year.
"Let's think about it. He's out in the forest, so he's probably safe from humans. And he's got a pack of some sort, the ones who rescued Hugo." The newspapers seemed to consider it a kidnapping, but Hugo himself implied that it was a rescue, so Lyuba went with that. "Maybe you won't have to get any of that at all."
The gentle weight of Lyuba's arm around his shoulders calmed him ever-so-slightly, allowing Rodrik to steady himself enough to take a deep, albeit shaking breath. "I don't think Hugo can be trusted with anything, not after the Winter Ball, but..." he sighed heavily, "I don't see a reason why he'd lie."
He felt a little bit insulted when Lyuba said that Vaughn might be fine. "Fine? They're probably living in some rotten wood shack with half of its walls gone, if they even have shelter! He needs to- He has to come home! I don't want the Ministry to take him and lock him away like, like an animal!" His hands were moving around frantically as he spoke, "And I'm helpless! I can't leave school, and my family barely have any money to their name, and--," his breathing hitched again, "--And I can't write to my brother Damian, because Grimblehawk is still reading the letters and-- And I'm no good with lying or, or, writing about one thing and meaning another thing and," he was rambling again, and another wave of panic washed over him, making him turn to Lyuba, bury his face into her side and throw his hands around her middle, hugging her as his whole body shook.
a charming young woman... ...capable of being terrible
GRYFFINDOR
16
SIXTH YEAR
1/2 VEELA
we're not running when the world's on fire/we'll be dancing in the smoke
73 posts
0 likes
Post by LYUBOV KAREVA on Jan 5, 2020 19:00:28 GMT
Lyuba considered telling Rodrik that he could, technically, leave school, but decided against it. Just because Nadya tended to threaten it every time she was unhappy didn't mean it would bring any comfort to her friend. She considered telling him that maybe he could write in some sort of code to his brother, or just leave out the exact details, since they didn't know exactly where Vaughn was, anyway, but then Rodrik buried his face in her side, soaking her shirt with tears. It was a situation she wasn't prepared for. Her instinct was always to try and solve problems, to confront them head-on, to make everything change, to make the world right again.
But Rodrik didn't seem to be listening to that, even if Lyuba was sure that what she was saying was true: if Vaughn--and if the girl, Rue, and if Hugo, too, had managed to hold out alright so far, they must be surviving on their own, right?
Maybe it was best to leave that for later. For when it wasn't a shock, for when they could come up with a strategy without Rodrik collapsing onto her. Softly, she rubbed his shoulder, trying to imitate the way Vera used to comfort her after nightmares when she'd been little. "Maybe let's move to the couch?" she whispered. "Then we can both fit. Okay?" Not waiting for an answer that she knew might not be forthcoming, she moved her arm to his waist, pushing until he made it out of the chair and the few steps over to the couch in front of the fire. "You rest. Thinking up ideas can wait until the morning, alright?" Arranging his legs so that he was laying down on the couch, Lyuba sat next to him, placing a hand back on his shoulder. "You'll get through this. All of you." It had to be possible for things to turn out okay, right? For good people to win?
