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!
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jun 26, 2019 11:13:10 GMT
Yet another hazy evening in another nameless room, a small space packed with bodies moving to the rhythm of another song about sex and all those joys of adult lives that this sea of fools can't wait to indulge themselves in. Guys with their first chin whiskers showing, who think they're all that, girls who've discovered that red lipstick is just as effective as a bribe...None of them older than 18. A 5th year had been unceremoniously kicked out earlier that evening - this was no place for children.
Wolfgang didn't miss even one of these get together's of the cream of Hogwarts society. He was just as bored and hormonal as everyone else here. And tonight the boredom outweighed the buzz of alcohol in his bloodstream. It seemed that there wasn't anyone he hadn't kissed even once in the whole room. Boring. Boooring.
Perhaps it was a good idea to leave this party early. He'd hear Scarlett snicker about it later, but he'd worry about keeping up appearances later, when he would be a lot more sober. He made his way through the crowd towards the door, and his hand was already on the handle, when from the corner of his eye he saw her.
The soft glow of the torches on the wall illuminated a young woman with blazing red hair, making Wolfgang wonder if she was emitting an orange glow or was it the last glass of martini that was making him go cross-eyed. He spun around on his heel, pushing out some pimple-covered Gryffindor out of his way - how did he even get in here? - and fixed his dark purple blazer. After a moment of hesitation he unbuttoned it, showing the light pink shirt underneath, then patted down his hair and let his hand slip down his face, brushing against the 5 o'clock shadow that he hadn't shaved that morning.
Wolfgang set out on a hunt. First, he had to approach, cautiously. He didn't go directly to the girl, no. He went over to the table a few meters away, filled his glass while shooting glances her way, trying to catch her eye. He needed her to step into the light so he could see better - he was drunk and his eyes weren't focusing right - was there a pretty face to go along with that gorgeous hair?
all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 27, 2019 2:42:18 GMT
Isobel Linwood never felt more in her element than when she had a reason to look beautiful. The deep cobalt blue dress she wore swirled around her legs with every step she took, a fabric she'd picked for both how soft it was and its perfect contrast with her red hair. Hers was a brighter shade of orange than many of the others in her family, and the intense blue seemed to bring the color of the curls out even more, a near perfect complementary color, as if she had chosen the colors for herself as she would a painting. But knowing Isobel, she probably had; the girl was always drawn to vivid colors and the ways they matched each other. Her whole ensemble was finished off with gold, another of her color to go along with blue, found in her eyeshadow, earrings, and even her high heels.
This was what made her feel good about herself. When life was beautiful.
Holding her latest cocktail in hand, a classic Manhattan, she leaned slightly against the wall, the cold stone refreshing on the skin of her shoulders, already heated from her previous drink. The stem of the cherry garnish rested on the edge of the glass, and she plucked it out of the liquor, popping it in her mouth and enjoying the sweetness. Whoever had thrown this party really knew how to live well. Finishing the cherry, she took a sip of the drink, scanning the rest of the group.
She already knew most of them, as the party was meant to be for only the classier of the sixth and seventh years, but that only meant she might have better luck finding someone to keep her company for the evening. Stepping away from the wall, she began to make her way over to the center of the room.
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jun 27, 2019 16:51:45 GMT
He slowly moved towards her, taking in every detail. Bright red hair, a long blue dress that screamed 'Pay attention to me!' in the most sophisticated way, and there was gold shimmering and glittering in the torch flames. An impeccable sense of style.
And then there were her lips. He couldn't help but to gawk at the red cherry, the way her lips pursed around the deep red berry, made him think about how her lips would look... in other circumstances.
He was almost next to her, already reaching out his hand to tap her on the arm, when the girl moved forward, leaving Wolfgang grasping at thin air. Goddamnit. Embarrassment rushed to his cheeks, making them turn as red as the cherry as he clenched his hand in a fist and pulled it back. He had to be faster than that.
Without losing a moment, he followed the girl. Wolfgang patted his hair, making sure his fringe was neatly curved and not just haphazardly shoved backwards. A Hollywood smile, inner charm dial cranked up to the max. He walked around her, trying to get in front of her, when...
"Would you look vere you're going!" He exclaimed, his father's German accent slipping through the cracks. The same pimple-faced Gryffindor he had pushed some minutes ago had dumped his entire tankard of beer right on Wolfgang's chest. He was infuriated, stiffening up, breathing heavily, his eyes wide. He quickly glanced at the girl in the blue dress,offered an apologetic smile and spoke:"I hope your outfit vasn't-" he coughed, cursing himself for letting his accent show, " I hope your outfit wasn't ruined. This is not how I intended to approach you. If you would just give me a moment..."
He grabbed the mumbling Gryffindor by his collar and dragged him to the door, pulling it open and shoving him out in the cold hallway. The door locked behind Wolfgang, and the banging of the unfortunate boy was muffled by the music.
He returned to the girl, trying to get himself under control. His breathing steadied, his smile returned, and yet his shirt was still soaked.
"I do not recall signing up for a wet t-shirt contest," he said, "Looks like I'm not competing with anyone though, so can we say that I've won?"
all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 28, 2019 4:25:32 GMT
The abrupt noise of someone yelling behind her made Isobel startle, having to catch herself with a hand on the table in front of her before she could spill her drink. If she ruined this dress, one she'd made for herself, someone would have to pay... But the dress was fine, and she took another sip to steady herself. She turned around sharply, searching for the source of the upset--because as much as he had made her jump, the sound of a distinctly European accent echoing through the room had drawn her attention for a different reason. There was something about men from the continent (or sixteen-year-old boys, as the case may be) that had always attracted Isobel, how the ones she had met always sounded that much classier and more mysterious. She was intelligent enough to know that all sorts of people came from everywhere, but that didn't change her reaction to the accent for one moment.
So when he spoke to her with that voice, she knew exactly what her goal for the night was. Even if his outfit had been ruined by whoever had spilled their drink on him--a shame, really, as the colors looked so good on him. She smiled playfully as he came back over to her. With her shoes, they were about the same height, so she could get a good look at him. He dressed well, even if the poor shirt was ruined, and the sharp angle of his jaw caught her eye as well.
As did his words.
She glanced down at the wet shirt, letting her eyes take in how it clung to his chest, and raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure you'll deserve a prize for winning. But it must be a bit sticky to keep the shirt on, isn't it?"
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jun 30, 2019 11:05:41 GMT
Wolfgang felt a rush of excitement when his target of the night responded with a flirty smile rather than an enraged scowl. He wouldn't have been too upset if she had yelled, it was all the pimple-faced drunkard's doing, but the less time he had to spend on damage control, the better. He'd rather chat her up than calm her down.
He watched her eyes skim over his torso, no doubt checking him out. It made him straighten his back, something reminiscent of a proud peacock, but with a lot more finesse, or so he hoped. When she didn't tear her gaze away from his wet shirt even as she spoke to him, he started to consider if, perhaps, that dumb-ass had done him a favor.
"I do desire to take this shirt off, but what has anyone here done to deserve to see what's underneath?" he asked, looking around. In truth, in the first few months of the school year he'd already taken his shirt off for about a third of the room, but tonight's catch didn't have to know that.
"No, I don't want to give them such a treat..." he continued, making an emphasis on 'them'. As for you, you're welcome to take it off whenever you please.
He took a few moments to study her up close. Her face... He wanted a painting of her. Sharp lines with rounded ends, delicate yet strong, gave an impression of someone who knew what she wants. There were accents of gold, in her earrings and her make up, drawing his attention to all the right places.
As his eyes went lower, his desire to take her away from here only grew. She was wrapped in royal blue, covering up most of her body, making his imagination run wild. The shade perfectly complemented her red hair, which lay upon her shoulders in soft waves. It was like Nature had spent hours upon hours crafting the representation of beauty and blessed it all upon this one person.
"Apologies, where are my manners? My name is Wolfgang, and I would like to know who do I have the pleasure of encountering?" he said, his brown eyes quickly moving back to her face, lest he linger too long on the lines on her chest.
all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 30, 2019 17:21:51 GMT
Deserve? Isobel let one red eyebrow raise as she cocked her head to the side, turning her companion's words over in her mind. And here she thought, seeing the way his eyes raked over her body, that he'd be a little more willing to follow her recommendations. She'd have to work a little harder, or perhaps just get him alone--someone who dressed that well might not want to take his clothes off in front of everyone. It would certainly be a little out of the mood of the party, at least at this time of the night. But this was no reason to stop--there was plenty of fun in the game of flirting.
She smirked when he called himself a treat. Now this was a boy with self-confidence. She'd have to look like she was matching him in that regard, and she pulled her back straighter, tossing her carefully styled curls back to reveal her shoulders. As long as she looked like she was poised and elegant, he would have to believe that she was. Her years of walking around in high heels just to practice making it look effortless would come in handy here. She needed to be just as polished as him--because he certainly must have been before the unfortunate incident with the spill.
"I'm Isobel. It's a pleasure to meet you. I've seen you around, you're in my year, aren't you?" It seemed to her that it was a shame that it had taken six years to introduce herself properly to this boy. She could've been enjoying those sparkling eyes and that accent for years! But maybe it was just as well. The seventeen-year-old Isobel was much more comfortable in this sort of situation than her younger self, and she finally felt herself able to flirt freely among people like him, without intimidation.
And it was just her luck that she'd spent so much time with her appearance today, because it was hard to miss the way Wolfgang's eyes were drawn to her. She put a hand to her hip, showing off her curves. "I can't believe you want to keep the treat all to yourself. Don't you think that's a bit greedy?"
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jun 30, 2019 18:24:31 GMT
From the turn of her head it was clear that Isobel was leaving the party only with Wolfgang in tow. She tilted her head and - Oh, good God, - threw her hair back, revealing her collarbones. If Wolfgang had any less self control, he'd be drooling already. He wanted to pin her against the wall right then and there, latching onto her neck with is lips and teeth, but he mustn't be so base and rush things. After all, she hadn't explicitly stated that he can touch her...yet. Consent was important to Wolfgang - it was no fun if both parties weren't enjoying it, and he didn't want to have that kind of reputation.
"Yes, we are. I cannot fathom how we haven't met before..." he drawled. In truth, Hogwarts was teeming with students, they came and went following their whims, just as the staircases moved as they wished. It wasn't that surprising, and yet some part of him regretted never paying more attention to this redhead. "But I guess there is no better time than now?"
And then... Then she made another conscious effort to catch Wolfgang's attention by moving her hand down to her hip. The shadows and lights of the room played with her figure, emphasizing the curves of her shoulders and hips. She stood there, a picture perfect example of everything he'd ever desired, just out of reach... And she called him greedy for not wanting to share himself.
"Greedy? Not at all," he chuckled, running his hand through his hair, making sure his fringe was still in place. "In fact, I am willing to share all that I have with the right person. They," he motioned at the crowd around, "aren't the right ones. But you?"
"I'd share the treats with you in a heartbeat. Shall we?" He extended his hand and shot her a crooked smile, offering to lead her out of this jungle of sweaty bodies to somewhere a little more comfortable.
all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jun 30, 2019 19:22:55 GMT
Isobel knew she would soon be giving Wolfgang the satisfaction of taking her somewhere more private. Of course, it would be just as much satisfaction for her as it would be for him--from the wet shirt, she could already picture just what he would look like with the shirt off. But she was having so much fun with the flirting. It was great to encounter someone willing to match her with carefully teasing words instead of the usual brutes, those that thought she was pretty but had the rather inept social skills of her own younger sister. Maybe that was why she liked the Ravenclaw and Slytherin boys best. They were intelligent enough to know what to say to a girl.
"Now is the perfect time," she said, a smile playing on her face. "See, even the mistake of a spill can turn into something good. I'll have to thank that guy later for the introduction." Though she realized quickly that bringing up the person who had caused Wolfgang to be so upset might not be the right course of action, and she corrected herself. "After all, it would have been a mistake if he'd ended up talking to me instead of you. You're much more suited to my tastes."
The drink in Isobel's hand was more than halfway finished by now, and she could feel how it made her face flush just a bit, hoping that it gave her the effect of an attractive blush instead of making her all red. There were no mirrors around to check--she'd have to trust that she still looked good. She let the drink be the judge of how quickly to move things along. When she finished the cocktail, then she'd be able to let herself enjoy the evening elsewhere with Wolfgang.
Which meant she needed to take larger sips, if how much she wanted to press her own lips onto that smile was any indication. She put out her own hand, placing it in his. "Let me finish the drink, and then we can make our escape." She wished she hadn't eaten the cherry right away. That would have been fun to enjoy in front of him...
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jul 1, 2019 4:30:15 GMT
He humored Isobel's words about the idiot Gryffindor with a smile, wishing to forget the guy's stupid face and focus on what was important - the girl he'd be taking away from here. Sure, there was some truth in the fact that, perhaps, he had done Wolfgang a favor, albeit in the most crude way.
"I'm sure talking to him would have been a waste of your precious time. I hope I won't disappoint." He answered, waiting for her to accept the offer of his companionship for the night.
Bingo. I've won. Wolfgang had to stifle a triumphant grin as Isobel's hand touched his. He immediately lifted her hand up, at the same time bowing down himself just a bit to place a kiss on the back of her hand. He was testing the waters underneath the disguise of good manners.
The feeling of her skin underneath his lips made him become so much more eager to leave and from the way he glared at the glass in Isobel's hand it was apparent to everyone how impatient he was getting.
"You know, the drinks here aren't that good. I wouldn't mind if you'd toss it over your shoulder," he said, moving his hand in hers to get a stronger grip. "I know of an unused communal common room not far from here. Amongst other things there is a couch and a fireplace, and I can bar the door so nobody gets in."
His gaze went to the door and then back to Isobel, urging her to leave. Perhaps it was a bit too brash of him, but he was aching to get out of this damn party and dive into the night with his newfound companion.
all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jul 2, 2019 3:42:41 GMT
Such a gentleman for someone who's about to be so daring. Isobel felt shivers run up her spine at the brush of Wolfgang's lips over the freckles on her hand, having not realized until now just how much she wanted someone's touch, though she kept herself still, not wanting to give away her reactions until she got him alone. In front of everyone, she needed to be dignified; this would all change when she had more... pressing matters in mind. And with that invitation, that was certainly what she was expecting in just a few minutes.
She let her hand slip out of his, but did not draw back, instead reaching upward to rest her fingers on his shoulder, as if in an imitation of the open embrace of a dance. Her index finger was resting so very close to his neck that she could almost feel the heat from the skin there, a marked contrast to the chill of the dungeons around her, which never seemed to be warm no matter how many torches were lit around the room. She squeezed ever so slightly, a touch of a reminder that she was not about to abandon him even as she still held the glass in her hand.
But that, too, was a problem that could be solved easily. "I'll toss the drink, alright," she said, playfully, as she raised it to her lips. In one motion, she had turned it upside down, draining it. The sweetened whiskey brought another source of heat to her chest, and she immediately felt a little more confident, even as she knew it was far too soon for the alcohol to hit her. The glass abandoned on the table, she moved her hand back down again, this time linking her arm in Wolfgang's elbow.
"Now I've finished. Show me that room?" She really did hope that he wasn't being facetious about describing a broom closet.
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jul 2, 2019 16:09:20 GMT
When Isobel's hand moved up to his shoulder and squeezed, he couldn't help but to swallow hard. It would take just a few seconds and he'd be all over her... But that would just be crude. If Wolfgang Kallenbach would be caught snogging a girl in the middle of a crowded dance floor like some kind of animal, without any finesse or tact, he'd never heard the end of it from his friends. No, he had to stay elegant.
He was glad to know he wasn't the only one getting impatient. Downing a cocktail in one go wasn't the most dignified thing in the universe, but under the current circumstances he'd let it slide. Hell, it even made him chuckle. After all, he'd done the same thing...
She linked their arms at the elbows, signaling that it was finally time. He straightened out his back, gave her a playful smile and lead them through the crowd, his steps slow and firm -- he had no intention of making her trip.
As soon as they opened the door to the dungeon corridor, a wave of cold air hit him. His legs went weak for just a moment, the alcohol making its rounds through his bloodstream. His wet shirt clung to his torso, the hairs on his arms went up, and as he walked he even began to shiver a bit. Yet his mind was clear as day. The sooner I get the fireplace going, the better.
He lead Isobel down the halls and with every step towards the old communal common room his heartbeat grew louder, flickering as a flame in the wind. "Here," he said quietly, reaching a nondescript door. With one flick of a wand he opened it and they entered the pitch dark.
"If you'll excuse me for a few moments..." Wolfgang unlinked their arms and got to cleaning up the place. He moved around in a carefully calculated manner, lighting up the torches one by one, revealing the dark green wallpaper that had faded out where there had once been paintings, old oak bookcases, now empty and gathering dust, a few recliners covered in red embossed velvet, a large couch to match and an empty fireplace.
Then he turned his attention to a wooden chair that had seen better days. It was missing a leg and half of it's back. Another few minutes later it was crackling in the fireplace, providing the two with heat and light. The door clicked behind Isobel, and Wolfgang put his wand back into the pocket of his pants.
He stood there, his back turned to the fire, his face obscured by the shadows, looking straight at her -- granted, he couldn't see much on account of the dimness of the lights.
all i really want is to be wonderful/people in this town, they can be so cruel
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Post by ISOBEL LINWOOD on Jul 3, 2019 4:16:29 GMT
Out of the party and through the dungeon hallways, Isobel let herself be led to the room, peering through the darkness to make sure she knew where they were going. As a Slytherin, she was rather familiar with the dungeons, but it was still important to know how to get back to the dormitory when they were done here—or if the room really did turn out to be a cramped broom closet after all, though at this point, she felt that being in close quarters might not be such an issue anyway. As if the cold inside the party room hadn't been bad enough, the air was freezing out here, and Isobel pulled herself a little closer to Wolfgang as they walked. If it brought more of her side into contact with him, well, that was just an added bonus.
She was pleased to find that there was indeed a room full of old furniture behind one of the doors she'd never entered, and it made her study Wolfgang for another reason besides his body, wondering how many places like this he knew of. That could be very useful, for reasons like this, but also for any other kind of private discussions. Isobel was not the kind of person who enjoyed getting detention, unlike certain sisters seemed to.
But right now, no part of her wanted to think about sisters. She made her way over to the couch while Wolfgang turned his wand to the fireplace, enjoying the view of him from behind, even if he was a bit of a silhouette in the shadows. She looked down at her feet, wondering if she should take off the heeled shoes--but no, it might be fun to leave them on. Smiling mischievously, she reclined across the couch, pulling the hem of the long dress up to reveal her calves, propping her head up on one hand, and waiting for Wolfgang to turn around.
With the fire barely started, it had not had time to warm up the room, and Isobel could see goosebumps already forming on her arms and legs. There was one good cure for that, and as soon as Wolfgang finished with the fire, she was ready for it. "Come over here and warm me up with some body heat. I'm sure we've got to get you out of the wet shirt as well."
Post by WOLFGANG KALLENBACH on Jul 3, 2019 13:14:15 GMT
The evening had reached its highest point. Wolfgang didn't need to be invited twice, shedding his blazer as he walked over to the couch, his fingers shaking from a mix of the cold and the primal excitement that had overtaken the young man.
He dove headfirst into the night, abandoning all logic, his brain only registering the rustle of clothes, their sighs and hands, hands all over. He didn't know how long it lasted, and let's be honest, in the heat of the moment it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, their dignity and grace, nothing.
He woke up in his own bed, only the marks on his neck and the splitting headache telling him that it hadn't been a dream. Where had his shirt gone? Perhaps only Isobel knew.
